Pushpa's daughter

Pushpa's daughter

So, I am working in this Government Hospital in Delhi which leaves much to be desired. I have been working for the Delhi Government  for close to two decades now and for over a year and a half in this particular hospital.

I would like to just do patient work and not worry about setting up the clinic and fighting to get mundane things done. But here I am , after 20 years, back to square one. Starting afresh in a new place .Things move really slow-like really really slow in our set ups. There is too much paper work involved and too many channels to go through before you can get  anything done. I know I am looked down upon disdainfully for fighting to work when I can jolly well get the pay cheque home without doing anything at all. It’s sad but that’s how it is!  My tolerance levels are lower now than when I had started out 20 years back and plain and simple ,when you get used to working in somewhat comfortable conditions and then have to revert to a place where you have to handle teething problems, it’s not easy.

So I don’t like the room I sit in(it’s claustrophobic) ,there aren’t enough facilities for the patients, I have to refer patients to other places for small little things because I have no space, manpower and equipment. I am only able to do 25 percent of what I can do for the patients. I feel very helpless and frustrated and tell myself I should not give a damn and just find ways to pass time from 9am-4pm to get that pay cheque. Then I talk myself out it and tell myself I can’t give up. And so life goes on!!!

And, nothing keeps me more grounded than my rendezvous with my poor patients. I give myself the luxury to listen to their stories and get carried away sometimes. The lower middle class and poorer gentry of patients that come to me live a life which is quite unlike the lives we live. Each one of them would probably have a story of human endurance and most of them are so busy just trying to earn the three square meals a day and have a roof over their heads ,that they would find it preposterous that someone in my position should have anything to complain about at all!!!

But that’s how we are –never satisfied!!

I am sitting down this morning  to count my blessings again ,not to  complain. I am typing to stop myself from the downward spiral of thoughts. I am remembering Pushpa’s daughter and smiling!

Yeah that’s Pushpa’s daughter!

I just opened the door to call out for my nursing orderly yesterday and found one lone human being sitting in the patient waiting area. This little human being,sitting there eating a banana. It was such a wondrous sight. I was told she was Pushpa’s daughter( wuteva:)) and Pushpa was with the doctor in the next room. Well pushpa’s daughter is already super independent, taking care of her mom’s belongings, eating that banana and waiting for her mom just like she was asked to.No fuss!! Just look at her hiding her face when I tried taking these pictures.And then when her mom was back,you should have seen the resplendent smile on her face. I backed off thereafter !!

I am so so grateful for my patients and for my connect with them. All these people I don’t know ,all these people who make me feel more human every single day!

  I hope , one day , I can tell you about my state of the art clinic in this hospital ..... when I get there!!! Amen!

Pep Talk

Big time pep this!

On days that I feel low, I often tend to curse my luck, even though I know very well that believing in luck is being really naive. Where I stand in my life today is all thanks to the choices I have made till date.

So I cannot disregard all the choices I made, absolve myself of all responsibilities and blame Ms Luck.

I am fully aware of the possibilities that are open to me. I know, by believing in luck, I only disempower myself immensely.

Sitting on my comfy couch and waiting for Lady Luck to shine on me or perhaps waiting for a fairy to appear with a magic wand is probably the silliest of fantasies I indulge in.

So, I am rambling just now to administer myself a dose of self pep on this working day, when tooth troubles are troubling people less, thanks to the festive season. Wise old owl that I am, all I want to do just now is get out of the thought process that makes me want to think in lines of “I wish I had done that when I was younger and the opportunities were there...”

Who am I kidding? I may be on the wrong side of the forties, and my hormones may be playing dirty tricks with my mind and body, but I am still not doing enough. It’s not like opportunity is a once in a lifetime lucky lottery that swings by .Opportunities come my way every single day, doors open all the time. I just choose not to walk through them so many times and then take the easy way out of blaming my luck.

I am aware that I have been given everything and promised nothing. So I have to stop taking things for granted and just get my act right. I accept that I am not really in control of this journey of life. I don't know how much time I have. But it’s my choice to believe, work towards and eventually achieve my dream/goal.

It’s my choice to sacrifice some things-tangible or intangible, to achieve what is more important for me. It’s my choice to stretch my comfort zone and know that I have to do a little bit extra everyday even if it makes me trifle uncomfortable. Because, I see no other way to grow or move forward really.

It’s my choice to live with passion-the secret ingredient that keeps playing hide and seek with me. Living with passion would mean throwing my heart and soul into everything I do and living in total gratitude for all that comes my way. Luck definitely figures nowhere in the scheme of things.

Yes, I need reassurance about the resilience of the human spirit as much as everyone else. I believe in certain things and see things from a certain perspective because it suits me to do so.

Sometimes, I cry while running errands, or when I am being driven from one place to another by my driver (the sunglasses are a boon!), sometimes I cry in the bathroom at work. I hold back tears and get overtly emotional so very often. But I know I am brave like a warrior. I hit all time lows and then I bounce right back to rebuild joy for myself and my dear ones. So, I’m strong yes.

Being emotional and sensitive has given me the opportunity to cultivate my other characteristics.

Even when I feel broken and desolate, I choose not to be bitter, angry or resentful. I choose to be brave, smile and move forward. If you take away my sensitive side, maybe you will take away the very essence of me, my conscience, my ability to empathise, my deep appreciation of the little things and keen awareness of others pain.....!!

So, it’s solely my choice how I engage life. And I hold no one responsible for the choices I make.

I choose to harness my humility, sensitivity and gratitude.

These are my “strongs”.

The Psychia is pepped enough for now. Bring it on life ;)))

                                                      

What always works!

Today

                                                                  

 

 

 

 

 

This morning I dropped my son off to the bus stop as usual. I teased him, cracked lame jokes, made conversation with some other kids at the bus stop to his utter chagrin(don’t bore them, ma!!),begged him for a peck in the cheek and irritated him no ends, till he finally gave up and gave me a resplendent smile. That smile said a lot. I could see and feel his love for me. So what if he keeps saying I should behave normally, like a regular mother. I don’t know why he keeps saying that to me often. I am the only mommy he has anyways!

So OK,maybe he thinks I don’t act my age. But how am I going to make him understand that I am game to monkey around and make a fool of myself to get that smile from him? How am I going to make him understand how precious that smile is to me?

I am also happy to make a fool of myself to get a smile from my really apprehensive paediatric patients or the really old patients. I am ,in fact, less self conscious as I am getting older.

 

Time is flying. I realise I have to completely let go of being affected by pettiness in order to be peaceful. I have to restrict myself to doing the things that make me feel alive and chuck the rest. Do no harm, take no shit, die without regrets. Period!

 

No whiling away my days. No living a life according to the opinion of others. No getting bogged down by people judging me like it is their right to do so. My life is mine. While we all spend a lot of time and energy thinking about what others will think, the truth is that no one cares. Maybe that isn’t entirely true. People who love you care and then there are others who care a little too ,but definitely not as much as we might think. Most people are busy thinking about themselves and it is a really futile exercise being self conscious and censoring ourselves because of what others might think.

 

I need to find my own peace because I am the only person I have any control over .For my peace, I know I have to express my feelings, keep my conscience clear and not prevent happiness from entering my life. If someone compliments me, why think they are trying to kiss ass. Why not just be grateful, say thank you and move on?

 

I can’t keep postponing what I want to do today till my son is older and self sufficient, till I get my next raise, till I save some more money for my retirement....that list is unending! How do I know if I will live till that day? What if I die of cancer or a heart attack, or meet with an accident on way to work ,long before my retirement?

 

I realise that I censor myself all the time because I don’t want to offend people. So I rarely express my true feelings even to the people closest to me. I am a highly emotional person and I need to connect to my close ones. Yet, even with my loved ones, I temper down what I say, to not offend them or to avoid getting into an argument. Is it worth it? What if all these bottled up emotions just explode one day?

 

I don’t want to be afraid. I want to face my fear, punch it in the face and bare my heart. There is already enough stress in our lives. Why then resist the happiness that tries to enter our lives? I am letting in the happiness and counting my blessings just now. I am grateful for my son’s laughter, I am grateful for the smile of that old patient whom I tease, I am grateful for the mischievous smile of the young patient, I am grateful for the coffee this afternoon, I am grateful for the friend who stood next to me when I took my househelp to the emergency for stitches in his head this evening ( he fell in the washroom-yeah, it has been a long day),I am grateful for this househelp who makes it convenient for me to pursue my interests while he takes care of the chores at home, I am grateful I can run, I am grateful for having sight and vision, I am grateful for having survived this day and being alive!!

 

I want to live a life without regrets, squeeze the marrow out of life and live each day like it is the last day of my life. I know it will be a Herculean task for me to be in this frame of mind at all times because I am only an average human being. But I will try. I will try to live each day to my personal maximum and go to bed without regrets every night.

 Please say AMEN!

 

P.S-On way to work this morning I saw a man on the road, oh so covered in blood and so dead, his car toppled over next to him. He must have left home/family to earn his bread and butter like every day. How was he to know what destiny had in store for him? I wonder if he got to live the life he wanted. I was really shaken at the sight and it got me really really thinking. R.I.P stranger!

 

 

                                                             

Random and ordinary me!!!

Have you ever felt lost? And lonely? Have you ever felt like the whole world is against you? Like nobody wants you happy? Like nobody understands you? Well, you are very  lucky if your answer is no to most of these queries. Because I firmly believe that EVERYONE goes through these thoughts,in lesser or higher degrees! I feel so so many times and yet I am not a lunatic  and I am not a misfit. I can adjust to any given situation and take it in my stride IF I want to . It’s all under my control. Can anyone get me out of my misery if I don’t want to help myself? No way! I am my best friend, I am my worst enemy! My life is how I choose it to be! I can blame the world,   circumstances, and all and sundry, just because it is convenient for me to convince myself if I put the blame on the external .But ,in the end, my life is just what I have made of it. I have none to blame for it!

Life is a gift and all the things I take for granted are no less than luxuries for so many in this world. Yet I am pompous enough , vain enough to complain and think I deserve better.

Long years of existence in this world and I have seen so much and yet I keep blundering and  thinking I deserve better! Better than whom? Better than what? I don’t have the answers. Yet I choose to be naive  ,yet I choose to be stupid, yet I choose to hope for something better!!!

Yes, I know you got to keep improving, and learning  doesn’t  end till the day you die. So clichéd all of that!!! Nobody knows who derives motivation from what, but we keep saying the mundane because it’s the said thing!

Why? I have only one answer. Because we are human! Personally, because I am an average human being ,living my life like most people do ,not making a vast difference in stalling the climate change maybe, but living an honest life nonetheless, being true to myself and people around me, loving and relishing the little things in life and trying to be happy despite all the things I can be sad  about. I am not special, I am not hugely talented,I work hard even though I may not be the best in anything as per statistics. I live a life which I so many times find worthless,yet I strive to be the best I can be. I want adulation from people around me, I want to think people around me like me for what I am, I want to know I am making a difference in a miniscule way , I want to be appreciated, I want love ,I want to have someone in my life who will love me just the way I am-flawed and wounded , happy and sad, judged and ignored, happy and sad, right and wrong! I want to feel worthy! Nope, I am not special. I am just a regular woman wishing for regular things! You cannot take me to task for feeling thus:)

Everything in this world is temporary and the only truth in life is that nothing lasts forever and no one knows if tomorrow will come. But we plan for our future, we have post retirement plans, we ALWAYS have future plans!!Why? Because we are human and  it’s just this one life we have. So we try to make the most of it, live it up and not think that today could well be the last day of our lives!

Before I say what I am going to say  next, believe me you, I am not crazy, I am just another ordinary human being! The day I am very happy with someone or about something, the day I feel very loved and wanted, the day I am in sync with everything  around me, the day I feel content...I want that day to be the last day of my life. I don’t want to die unhappy!!!

Again, the day I am sad and desolate, the day I feel too lonely and convince myself that the world is cruel and unfair, I want that day to be the last day of my life. I don’t want to live unhappy!!!

I don’t know how many of you find time to think these random things, but if you do, I think you will not find me so weird:)))

My thoughts are so damn random, so unconstructive..that the more ambitious may label me a lazy loser. But I know I am not one. I HAVE touched some lives in a small or big way, I have been extremely  sincere in my profession, I have tried my best to be a good mother, I have let go of things when I have had  to, I have been fair to people around me mostly! I don’t consider myself a loser. I am not religious, but I am not  a non believer( I believe in goodness, I believe in love,I believe good people exist). I have people around me who love me despite my frequent ramblings of this kind. Naah, I am not a loser!Just that how one measures success in life is relative, like everything else!

 I make mistakes. Yes,I do. That’s the whole essence of the average me! But I try to make amends and not repeat my mistakes. So I’m good! So,I’m as special as you or anyone else!!

I ramble when I’m sad, I ramble when I’m happy. Either ways I’m happy when I can think aloud. If someone near me has the patience to hear me out, good for me!!! If not, I now have a so called blog of my own where I can write my heart out. And I know I will find some kindred souls out there who will read this and understand what I am trying to say! It ALWAYS helps to know you are not alone. You don’t know my story and I don’t know yours,so I  will believe your life is as good or bad as mine!!! Now, don’t tell me you don’t have a story!!!!!

Pet Therapy

Buddy and Ishaan!

When my son was but 4.5 years old, I noticed classic O.C.D symptoms in him. He would go to the washroom every 5 minutes , he would wash his hands compulsively and he would have me worried like nobody’s business. I tried cajoling him and talking him out of it, I scolded him and I felt super frustrated. 

Not relying solely on my own diagnosis, I took him to the paediatrician and further to the urologist and they ran multiple tests on him and prescribed medicines and said it could be a urinary tract infection and they scared me further saying it was uncommon in boys.

 I tried telling them in vain that his washing his hands repeatedly wasn’t normal either. My fears fell on deaf ears.Doctors, family,everyone thought my concerns were unfounded as long as he was declared medically fit.

So Google came to my rescue. I read up about Obsessive Compulsive Disorder.

Symptoms of childhood-onset O.C.D vary widely from child to child. Some common obsessions experienced by children and adolescents with O.C.D include:

·    exaggerated fears of contamination from contact with certain people, or everyday items such as clothing, shoes, or schoolbooks

·       excessive doubts that he/she has not locked the door, shut the window, turned off the lights, or turned off the stove or other household appliance

·       marked over-concern with the appearance of homework assignments

·      excessive worry about symmetrical arrangement of everyday objects such as shoelaces, school books, clothes, or food

·       fears of accidentally harming a parent, sibling or friend

·       superstitious fears that something bad will happen if a seemingly unconnected behaviour is done (or not done)

·       Compulsive washing, bathing, or showering

·       Ritualised behaviours in which the child needs to touch body parts or perform bodily movements in a specific order or symmetrical fashion

·       Specific, repeated bedtime rituals that interfere with normal sleep

·       Compulsive repeating of certain words or prayers to ensure that bad things don’t occur

·       Compulsive reassurance-seeking from parents or teachers about not having caused harm

·       Avoidance of situations in which they think “something bad” might occur

Holy cow! Ishaan had at least 8 of these symptoms.

I knew my baby wasn’t faking anything. He just couldn’t help doing what he was doing.The next logical step was to find a child psychologist for him,I guess. But ,after a year and a half of going through this nagging trauma, I decided on something else first.On the lark, I decided to get a dog home and see if it helped. I had read somewhere that pet therapy works wonders. And I wanted to try the magic.

So , Buddy came home one summer day in 2009 . A small vulnerable little thing,forever hungry for love. He made a mess of the house,he peed and pooed everywhere till we got him potty trained and he was an absolute handful.My little one was ecstatic and believe me you,his O.C.D was a thing of the past in two weeks flat, from the time Buddy arrived home.Dogs and their loyalty and unquestionable affection to their people is something else. Only folks who have owned pets and loved them would understand it, I guess!

Both of them grew fast!

Buddy grew fast and became an integral part of our lives. My son doted on him and vice versa.

Last September, without giving us much notice, Buddy left us for good. He was unwell just for a day and died the next day. He was just 6.5 years old. My son,now 12 years old, struggled not to show his emotions, was heartbroken, did not want to be consoled ,did not want me to say anything at all to try and make him feel better. He told me categorically that nothing would make him feel better.So I let him be and I let him grieve on his own as I did so myself too.

Cut to the present. Buddy’s picture and his favourite ball sit on my son’s study desk and sometimes I still feel he might be around in the house.

Last month, a friend’s friend was looking for someone to baby sit on their puppy as they were travelling for a month and a half.When the offer came to me, I asked my son, if he would like to have a  pup home  for sometime since his summer break was round the corner and he would have all the time in the world to care for the pup.He readily agreed and we’ve had Zoe at home for over a month now.

Zoe and me

 She is such a cute little ball of fur. She is so delicate, so naughty and again has the magical powers to make us humans happy. It’s another thing that I have referred to her as Buddy so many times. But we are in  love with her now. Zoe has slept with us,licked us off,nibbled on all the furniture in the house,has stolen food from my plate,tried drinking out of my cup and generally made me very very happy. My son complains that Zoe likes me more . Well, maybe she does.

It’s time for Zoe to leave now. We are preparing ourselves for the same. I am seriously mulling over getting a pup for us again. I am talking to my son about it. But the poor kid is not over Buddy yet. He doesn’t want another dog . He is so torn between his love for Buddy and his desire to have another pup at home.He is so scared to lose his pet again! I’ll give him his time to decide.

my baby with Zoe

As for me, I have already put in a word with people and friends for a Cocker spaniel pup, I have googled options and places to buy one and I was almost decided I’ll get one next month.

But last evening,during my run (because that’s when I seem to have maximum clarity of thought), I decided to postpone getting a pet for now. It’s scary the way we get attached to things/people/pets so soon. I am not going to get a pup now as an offset of having Zoe at home for sometime. It was good to have Zoe around. Like a friend told me, Zoe was ours as long as she was with us .

 Damn! Love and affection should come with a shelf life maybe. Out of sight should be out of mind! And healing should be instant. Makes things easier. You hurt less!! If only things were that easy.

Pet therapy worked wonders for my son and it works great for me too. Life goes on.

Happy us!

love unlimited

Best Buddies!

Quiet please?

This morning I woke up desperately wishing for some quiet in my life. I can’t turn a deaf ear on the noise around me obviously. Yet, even as I absorb that noise, I don’t want to reciprocate with equal force. I just want to take a deep breath and not let any of it affect me.

I like to believe I have always led my life from the heart and I don’t want to change much of that.The heart feels heavier in the process many times, but I don’t want to live and think too clinically.

My head makes me think through the pros and cons of things, makes me feel fear, makes me fear change and controls my life only because all my so called rational thinking comes from the head!

But somehow, I like the landscape of my heart better. It makes me feel for the stranger, makes me want to cry when I see cruelty, despair and sorrow, and makes me want to hug that old patient of mine who sheds a tear of joy just because I spoke to her kindly. It’s what makes me get those goose bumps ever so often.

I can’t deny that my head and the monkey residing within makes it difficult for me to hear my heart sometimes. When I am busy being busy, the head rules.

But, when I have the quiet I seek, I can hear the music in my heart better. I can feel more. Period.

On the face of it, making choices in life is probably the head’s prerogative. But all I want to do is, pause in my quiet space , be sure of my values and then just function around those values. 

A couple of years back; I lived a life where I said yes to everything. There was a lot of social stuff to do, a lot of chores to take care of and a generally crazy amount of things to do.

I realise that only recently have I learnt to say no to social invitations unless I am sure I am going to have a really good time or I believe that interaction is something I have been really looking forward to. I may have lost a few so called friends in the process,but learning to say no is a virtue I learnt trifle too late in life!

I was rushing through everything. I am trying to take things easier now. All that needs done, is still getting done. I am not shirking from my responsibilities. It’s just that I am following my heart more. I am doing things more my way than the way I am expected to do!

I probably socialise more online now instead of in person. Like everyone else, I have the need for social connection as well. At the same time, I also clearly see the sheer addictiveness of it all, to the point where there’s no quiet in life.  Detox time is so vital. I need to be spending more precious time only with me!

My wish is to just smile, breathe and go slowly , like the Zen masters say. I want to consciously stop myself from multitasking and do just one thing at a time. I don’t want to be superwoman. I want to put space between the different tasks in hand for me and do one thing at a time. Enough of this rushing through things. Where am I going anyway? I want to be mindful of the things that make me happy and just focus on them instead of making me busy with the mundane.

My head talks down to me , makes me scared, yaks away constantly till I want it to just shut up. What if I let it go yakety yak till it was tired of doing so? And then let the heart rule. I want to get out of situations that make me clench my fists and tighten my guts. I want to make my choices without being wishy washy about them. Maybe tomorrow I won’t like the results of the choices I made today. But I would still have the option of making a different choice then. I don’t want to procrastinate no more!

I know I cannot bid adieu to practicality forever and just keep following my heart.

Even so, I want my quiet; I want to let go of my unrealistic expectations; I want to take a deep breath and relax. Smile ,breathe and go slowly.

I don’t even want to worry about what you will think about what I am writing here, because that will muddle with what I feel like writing just now.

It’s amazing how jotting down my thoughts de-clutters my mind, by the way!

I've been feeling a dull ache in my heart for a couple of days now. I feel the ache diminishing even as I type here.

Some mornings, you wake up and despite all the self pep you can't will yourself outdoors for a run,so you convince  yourself you are under the weather and then well......

I guess, the head and the heart would have to strike a deal and live in tandem. Can’t do with or without either.

Why do I run?

“I run because it is therapeutic for me. Because every time I run outside, around my home, I am reminded of the beauty of the world, of which I often forget. Yet, at the same time, I am fully aware of beauty, it simply saddens me because of reasons I have not yet conjured up. I suppose I am sad. But at the same time, I am happy, and miserable, and joyful, and stressed out, and calm and everything in between.

I am everything. Every emotion rigged in every format, and developed through every machine. I am numb, but I am not.”

A kindred soul forwarded me an article some months back. I can’t even remember whose words these are. But this excerpt from that article is  on my desk and I read it every day. It never fails to strike a chord with me. How does one sum up in one sentence as to why one runs?

At least, I cannot do it! On days when I am feeling under the weather, facing extreme Monday morning blues and feeling very lonely, I can simply cry reading this. Like today! I hate myself for being such an emotional buffoon, I tell you! But trying to change myself has not gotten me too far. So I am kind of giving up on that.

Most of the times, I want to run all alone, whether I am happy or in despair, whether I want to boost my spirits or generally feel good at a particular time. Then I don’t care how fast or slow I am running. All that matters is that my feet are pounding the ground, my heart rate is accelerating, I am out of breath and am pushing my limits and the rest of the random thoughts are fading from my mind. I am meditating and running is definitely sacred. I have cried on a few of my solo runs, because of the relief I feel while running. The endorphins should make me high isn’t it? I tell myself often that it’s a little wonky to indulge is such solo runs too often.

So though I like me wonky, I try to go out and run with all the awesome runner buddies I have- every now and then. I feel all enthused meeting them. I seriously do. All the paraphernalia, the glamour, the competitive spirit and the never ending talks around running are quite amusing. I do feel like one of the herd, the pack, the family-if I may say so!

Then again, when I am alone, why do I feel like the black sheep of the running family .Well meaning people, who think more highly of me than I deserve, often ask me-“ What’s your next goal? Which is the next big race you are running?”

Damn, I don’t know! I need to set me some goals. I need to get real. I need to get out of my make believe world. It gets lonely out there many times.

But I want easy. No, no don’t ever think I shirk from hard work. I am a true blue worker bee. I am just wary of technique, and going into the science of running. Give me the philosophy of running any day, and I will buy it! 8 out of 10 days, the technique and science of running don’t catch my fancy. Of course there are those two days, when I do allow better sense to prevail. Why?

Because you see, I am yet to run a 100 kms at a stretch. I am yet to run a H.M I can boast of to my grandchildren ! I want to keep pushing me till the day I die.

But when I started running half marathons and longer distances, the distances that hurt and make you happy at the same time, they uncomplicated my mind and freed my spirit. Now sometimes, I can’t help but think that the entire business of running has got complicated. I just want to maintain the sanctity of my favourite feel good thing. I want it to remain my go to thing. I don’t want to stress over my runs and running goals. I want my running to keep de-stressing me. That’s all!

Do I make any sense at all?

I dunno.

I just ramble from my heart!!

Egoistic me

Yes, I am egoistic. I put my needs before those of others. I do believe self interest inspires every human action-yes, even feeding that poor hungry child on the road. I know, when I go and give my old clothes to the poor and homeless or feed a few of them every once in a while, I do nothing to better their lives. I do nothing for the betterment of humanity. But, I do feel good about it for some time. So, basically I do it for myself. So, I am egoistic! And it’s okay. If I don’t feel good about myself, I will accomplish nothing any ways. So, all is well!

Here’s one side of the coin. I know my ego is here to stay. I will feel bad over petty things, thanks to my ego. I will always think I deserve better,I will always feel bad if my friends and family don’t understand things from my perspective. I am too ordinary to think I will attain higher enlightenment in this lifetime. People will judge me whether I like it or not. They’ll criticise my actions without knowing half my story. And I will feel bad about these things. I have to learn to use my ego to my advantage and be happy. I don’t want to free myself of my ego.

My ego is merely the evidence of my fragility. If I didn't have an ego, I wouldn't feel bad if someone yelled at me, my feelings wouldn't be hurt by rejection, I wouldn't wish for any tender love and care from anyone. I wouldn't wish to be treated thoughtfully –like I am some important being who matters. I wouldn't even despair if my plans didn't fall into place. Basically, I would become superhuman!

But here’s the other side of the coin. I have an ego of considerable size - yes. You could also call it a measure of my self esteem. My ego is my pride. My ego helps me to not go all downhill. I wouldn't mind a bigger ego really. It would help me win some more battles in life, I believe. Don’t you think all champions and winners have big egos? Why would they want to win all the time otherwise? How can you compete and win without an ego? I do believe the desire to win at all costs is what drives champions. Because, losing is not acceptable to them. Losing is too damaging to their egos. I wish I had an ego of a champion. A champion ego!!!

In your fight to excel and to be the best, you and your ego have to conspire and join hands. Would that mean winners have no humility? I don’t think so. You just have to nurture the positive ego and keep a check on the part of your ego that behaves like an immature child. You just have to strike that balance.

I only recently learnt the word braggadocio. It means  ‘boastful or arrogant behaviour’. So being a braggadocio, being arrogant, being an empty boaster and bragging on is not the same as being egoistic.

I am not a braggadocio. But I don’t want to be a loser either. I don’t want to be happy coming 10^th among 10 in anything. I need to keep trying to get better and keep climbing the ladder of my self esteem. It’s all up to me.

So I am keeping my ego-as a measure of my fragility and as a measure of my self esteem. I like to be as human (e) as possible!

Imperfectly perfect!

Life can play all sorts of games with us without us even knowing. Maybe destiny is underrated. Maybe what’s happening in our lives was planned from before and just maybe the best way to be in peace is to accept things rather than being a refrained recipient.

I know I am just an imperfect girl still trying to fit into an imperfect world. There are things that are beyond my control. Come to think of it, what IS under my control? My own attitude is probably all I can try to control. Positive thoughts, self discipline, self restraint, self belief. I can only change myself really. So clichéd!

Seriously, I can sow a seed, water it, add some fertilizers, and even plough the field-but I have to wait patiently for the fruits and flowers to grow. I cannot force sunlight to shine brighter or turn the direction of the winds and rain. There is only so much I can do. Tell me something new !

Perfection really is too lofty a goal to reach. I am mostly reconciled to being imperfect. I just want to respect and indulge in all the imperfections around me. Rather, all that I think is imperfect. All around me I see that success really is measured by materialistic things you have , the recognition you have in society and the easiest thing to do is succumb to the mirage of perfection. There is no Utopia. Why then should I beat myself up everyday seeking what does not exist at all? So many times in a single day, why do I let my perception of perfection rob the very potential for joy that I have in my life.

I am getting older every day. Time is flying past me. Days at end, I still feel empty inside and am forever looking for something to lift my spirits. Sometimes, I wonder if the trivial chores that I run around doing on a daily basis, aren't they also supposed to balance out the complicated and painful thoughts that haunt me ever so often. Am I not to be grateful for the mundane too, then? Yes, I am. I guess I am supposed to be grateful for everything in my life-the good, the bad and the ugly. If I did not learn the right lesson from each life experience, who can I blame for that but yours truly?

I have to learn to be content living this anonymous life. (Yeah, you know my name, you know how I look, but do you think you really know me?)I remember when I was a kid, I actually believed that the moon followed us everywhere. It was such a great feeling. Somewhere along the line, life just got too darned complicated.

I know this is as random as it can get. I was supposed to be out running with friends just now. But sonny boy is feeling under the weather. He looked at me imploringly with his puppy dog eyes and asked me  to stay. So I did. And now he’s fast asleep . Brat!

Here I am-rambling on. Thank heavens it’s time to get to work now. Working on Saturdays ain't that bad!

Seriously bad day!

I can’t remember my dreams.Literally! I sleep less. So, maybe I don’t dream at all. Sometimes I wake up with the feeling that I dreamt something nice may be. But for the life of me,I can never remember my dreams.

I do get nightmares though. I sleep less. That could be why I get these nightmares. Give me a nightmare and voila-I remember! I ruin my mood ,I rewind it in my head umpteen times and I just have a bad day! Like today. I woke up distraught. Couldn’t jump out of bed when the alarm went, finally willed me to start my day after an hour or so. 

Even went for a short run. It did nothing to cheer me up . Endorphins be damned. The fact that one young fella , tried  to outrun me for 300 m or so everytime I crossed him on that short 625m loop of my neighbourhood park,panting and thrashing mother earth like he wanted to break into her-did nothing to make me happy!

I came back home grumpy. I hugged my son tight to make me feel better. He was in deep slumber .I woke up the poor fellow and got him annoyed. I lost my cool with the househelp for the same stupid things he does every day,the same things I laugh about on a better day.

I got to work late. My patients , wouldn’t understand ANYTHING I said at one go. The paediatric patients today seemed to be kicking more and creating a bigger ruckus on the dental chair. Now as I type this ,I know my patients are always like that. On a good day,I laugh when they speak neither Hindi ,nor English nor Assamese (the only languages I know)but some dialect from some part of the country and I threaten to explain treatment in my mother tongue as well.Today,I had no patience with them.I was curt and to the point.I did not have it in me to help them unwind.On a good day,I don’t mind if the kids literally bite off my fingers as I do their extractions and I have to explain the same thing a 100 times over .Today,I was the bad doctor auntyL

Today  I went to work with my wings broken,halo bent and horns showing loud and clear!

Back home ,I was supposed to do a short workout. Instead, I tried napping in vain,binged on a lot of junk and ended up more miserable.

I generally let an abstract something rule my day and mind today! I shamed me yet again! AAARGH!

I’m going to kill that creepy guy from my nightmare –in my mind! I hate him. And then I am going to skip dinner and crash early! Tomorrow,I'll be a good girl!

Talk of a bad day!

A magic wand please?

A young boy ,all of 16 , comes to my O.P.D room just as its lunch time for me. He has visited  some other O.P.D in the hospital and has been referred to a higher centre for Psychiatric counselling.The hospital I work in doesn't have a psychiatry department.

He has come to me to tell me that his teeth strike against each other and dance when he walks.

I am taken aback. One look at him and I know he is not kidding. He is in utter distress.

He says he needs his “Brain”  checked too.He says he gets palpitations and keeps thinking negative and feels scared.

I ought to look at his teeth and tell him all is well in his mouth and that he doesn't in any way, need a dentist’s intervention. That’s about it.So I look at his teeth and mouth in all earnest. I already know he has good teeth and I tell him that his is the best set of dentition I have seen since morning.(I have seen 60 patients today and I am NOT lying to him)

He has come to the hospital alone-no grown up with him to whom I can explain that he probably needs just some tender love and care to start with,he probably needs “not” to be alone. My heart goes out to him. He looks healthy otherwise .He looks like he belongs to a family that gets the three square meals a day definitely.

Now I  talk to him for quite sometime. Its lunch time. I can afford to.His father works in a dye factory,his mother loves him ,one elder sister who is married,one elder brother who is studying. They stay in Haryana but they belong to U.P . And so forth. His father wanted him to go to school.He wanted out.Left home and came to Delhi to find work here. Works as a waiter somewhere now.(Who employs 16 year olds?)

I ask him why he is unhappy if he is doing what he wanted to do. I know he is not telling me everything obviously.I tell him so.He smiles.He won’t tell me more today. I tell him to quit his job and go back home ,to be with the family who he says cares for him and is willing to provide for him yet.I tell him I am here to listen to him if he wants to come and tell me anything more. I don’t have time during O.P.D hours ,can only afford to talk to him during my lunch hours.

My own son, the one I dote on ,the one I am fiercely protective about is just 4 years younger than this young man sitting in front of me. This young man who won’t look me in my eye, who sits with his  head drooping down. I am dying to give him a hug and tell him everything will be okay.The world is a good place to live in. Insecurities come and go. You have to hold your head high and spirit higher. You gotta be brave. Everyone gets by!

Anyway, I write him some placebos. He goes to fetch his medicines from the pharmacy, comes back twice to my room under some pretext or other. Only, I can’t give him more time . I have patients now. He needs a shoulder to cry on. No one likes to feel  lonely.

I have to learn not to get emotional about my patients.

But I could do with a magic wand. Any leads?

Okay, Gaurav is 5 years old, he is super cute. I plonked him on my table post treatment and he told me his ( girl)friend’s name is Kaya. He also graciously agreed to take a selfie with me. He got two candies from me. He is saving one to give to Kaya at school tomorrow......

Life goes on!!!

Cheering squad and blues!

You wake up in the wee hours of the morning because you have to be at the aid station at a race  5 am to cheer for your running buddies . A few amazing friends join you in the effort and we have a really good time at work.The entire race energy is infectious.

Some of us were volunteering at the aid station because we are nursing running injuries and could not afford to run,some of us just chose not to run this race. But we were there today solely because we love running and  did not want to miss out the opportunity to feel the energy of a most talked about race in town.

I am glad I did not spend my Sunday morning sleeping,I am glad I was out there.It was a great experience.I actually shouted myself hoarse and my hands hurt from all the clapping! I am happy I knew so many of the runners and could call out their names and cheer for them.The smiles and thumbs up we got in return from them were priceless.

Having run a bit myself,I know it feels great when someone calls out your name and cheers for you while you are racing ,be it against time, distance or yourself! So it was good to be on the other side and cheering today!!!

Having said that,I'm back home and I realise all over again “damn,I miss running L”.I promised not to mope over this in public or in private but “Hell,I feel really sorry for myself L;I want to run too- yesterday,today,tomorrow-soon!!!” You can’t wring the honesty out of me just because I want the world to think I'm okay. I'm NOT okay! I want recovery and rehab period over!!

Anyways, I have tried hard to snap out of my misery and catch a nap ever since I got back home-all in vain!

I finally made a SOS call to a pal to accompany me for an afternoon ride.Off I go-I shall overcome!!

You win some ,you lose some-ALWAYS!

Go get a life Psycho!

I see sleep giving me a miss tonight. So ramble a bit I will. Last evening I told myself I would not think too deep about anything and just go with the flow.I told myself I would live each day like there is going to be no tomorrow and not lament over anything at all. I told myself I won’t be upset with anyone or anything and just be thankful for what I have.

Yet when I went for a walk this morning my mind was absolutely restless. What I hate most about walking is that you cannot “not think” while walking!!!! And there's no guarantee that you'll only get positive thoughts!

I didn't have the energy to will myself to think only positive this morning.I tried though(I always do) and ended up being angry instead of sad.I like the angry me better than the sad me,mind you!

The little bit of running that I have enjoyed in the last few years made me realise that running is good for me because I can level out my feelings while running. I am a slave of my mind otherwise-I fight it day in day out.

So I miss running. It’s just over two and a half months that I have not been able to run and I have been lamenting about my silly injury long enough. I have consciously or unconsciously ensured people sympathise with me because I’m grounded just now.

And tonight I feel stupid and petty for lamenting about my injury at all. 

There are so many people with genuine problems, so many who are less blessed than me. I work in a set up, where most of my patients are the poorest of poor. I always use my interactions with them as my sounding board. They make me realise that my life is actually a cake walk.

And yet, at my no longer young age, I am silly enough to lament over something as mundane and ordinary as a running injury! A running injury??? Who cares! I feel embarrassed and petty. Alternately and at the same time.

I’m packing up the topic this very moment-no more talking about my injury. Life goes on and I live on. It’s not like I have races to win, points to prove to anyone  or a career or living to make out of my running. It’s not the end of my life. When I run again in the future, I’ll be happy to be levelling out my mind again. And if I don’t ,I’ll discover something else to make me happy. The possibilities are endless and I’m one lucky woman!

So no more pep talks for me-I am not pepping myself or expecting anyone around me to pep me up over this.I don't categorize this as one of my problems anymore.

Thanks for bearing with me! 

I’m going to go get me a life tomorrow! Hear hear:)

Ma Psychia

I finally put sonny boy in the school bus this week. All this while,  he has had the luxury of sleeping that 30 minutes extra in the morning and getting back home 30 minutes earlier because he was chauffeured in my car. I thought he would grumble about it a couple of days at least-but he’s being quite a sport about it.

Now, I have been on leave from work the last two weeks and have had the opportunity to spend some real quality time with him. We have watched movies together, taken long walks together, talked about all things under the sun-books,"our" insecurities, puberty, sex....you name it!

I realise how grown up he is now.

This morning after seeing him off to school,  I went for a very long walk. All of  those two walking hours I spent reminiscing my “ma” journey!

I went back to work 3 months after he was born, leaving him to the care of two maids .It was a guilt trip all the while , leaving the tiny soul and going to work. So moment I got back from work, it would only be momma and baby time!

Every milestone he crossed as a baby was such a big deal- his first word, his first tooth, his first smile, his first step..... 

When he went to play school, it was a tough time.

 My son only spoke in our mother tongue Assamese and I was worried he would not be able to communicate. But kids being smart as they are, I did not have to worry on that count for long.

I remember sending his class teacher a letter the first day-the same one written by Abraham Lincoln to his son’s teacher when he started school.

It goes like this-

"World take my son by the hand-he starts school today. It's all going to be strange and new to him for a while, and I wish you would sort of treat him gently. You see, up to now, he's been king of the roost. He's been the boss of the backyard. I have always been around to repair his wounds and I've always been handy to soothe his feelings. But now things are going to be different. This morning he's going to walk down the front steps, wave his hand, and start on a great adventure that probably will include wars and tragedy and sorrow.

To live in this world will require faith and love and courage. So, World, I wish you would sort of take him by his young hand, and teach him the things he will have to know. Teach him, but gently, if you can.

He will have to learn, I know that all men are not just- that all men are not true. Teach him that for every scoundrel there is a hero; for every enemy there is a friend. Let him learn early that the bullies are the easiest people to lick.

Teach him the wonder of books. Give him quiet time to ponder upon the eternal mystery of birds in the sky, bees in the sun and flowers on a green hill.

Teach him that it is far more honourable to fail than to cheat. Teach him to have faith in his own ideas, even if everyone tells him they are wrong.

Try to give my son the strength not to follow the crowd when everyone else is getting on the bandwagon. Teach him to listen to all men, but to filter all he hears on a screen of truth and to take only the good that comes through.

Teach him to sell his brawn and brains to the highest bidders, but never to put a price tag on his heart and soul.

Teach him to close his ears on a howling mob-and to stand and fight if he thinks he's right.

Teach him gently, World, but don't coddle him, because only the test of fire makes fine steel.

This is a big order, World, but see what you can do. He's such a nice little fellow."

 I still get goose bumps when I read Lincoln’s letter .Somehow it touched a chord with his young teachers too.

He was treated like royalty in his play school and that short span in play school did wonders to his confidence. I remember one of his teachers, Shuvinder, with whom I had lost touch by then, pleasantly surprised me by calling up on his 7^th birthday to wish him and said she always remembered his birthday. And when I put sonny boy on the phone, he only responded in monosyllables and Shuvinder said she was good with so much because she remembered he always spoke very less. That was how much love he got from his teachers in play school.

Then suddenly big school happened. That very year, they changed entry level to big school(nursery) from 4 years to 3 years.

So I was more unprepared than him for that sudden preponement. But big school it was. 

Now, in big school, he got this real stern lady for his class teacher and my introvert kiddo started hiding in his shell further.

 After a few months, I was asked to see the child counsellor and told he was a slow learner. I was surprised because I spent a lot of time with him and knew his grasp of things was perfectly normal. 

However, on the school’s advice, I remember spending a day in class with him, because his class teacher wanted me to see for myself how he lagged behind in class.

 That day as I sat next to him, he felt reassured and there was not one thing that he didn’t get right in class. I rested my case hence with the teacher . Mommy win! Sweeter than the biggest victory.

      

He was choosy in the friends he made and remained a lad of few words .It took a couple more years and an angel of a sweet class teacher in 2^nd grade ,to make him open up bit by bit.

The first time I was told in a Parent Teacher Meeting that  he is not paying attention in class or keeps talking in class, it was like a battle won for me. I would be so happy to hear the teacher complain.

The mommy journey is not all rosy like all mommies know. The times he has been unwell, the times when I just could not drive home my point, the many many times I have lost my cool.......and so forth! But I don’t want to dwell upon those times.

I only regret the times I have vent out my frustration about other things by yelling at him because I have taken him for granted, like I own him.

I hope he will be able to erase those memories and love me always like he does today.

From the little toddler , he is now grown enough to tell me to cross the road carefully, to be careful about my running so that my injury doesn't flare up again, to remind me to take my medicines, to correct my pronunciation.

It’s been a wondrous journey!!

Sometimes when I barge upon his thoughts and am able to correctly guess what he’s thinking, we both smile!!We call it the umbilical cord connect J

He still speaks very little with other grown ups and takes time to open up with people. But my kiddo talks a lot with me...I know he is more mature for his years and I always selfishly hope he’ll find time even when he is an adult to share  and talk about things with me.

I know so many times he does things just to make me happy. I don’t know how long I’ll remain this all important person in his life.

I know things will change every day as he grows up.I just hope I can be a good mommy as long as I live.

By the way, my sonny boy is 12 years, 3 months and 27 days old today J
He is the world's bestest son and I would like to believe Ma Psychia is the...