Posted on by nikita

Reborn — The X-factor

‘Why don’t you buy a pet?’ comes one recommendation. 

Pets are adorable, but I prefer to be at arm’s length from pets and pethood.

‘Why don’t you adopt a child?’ That’s another.

At that moment, all I could hear in my mind’s ears was the beautiful song from the movie ‘Maachis’ — Chhod aaye hum woh galiyan … Gone are the days of potty training, teething troubles, and midnight burping. At the menopausal stage, managing my moods is somewhat challenging for me — how do I summon the elon to babysit a child as the trolled President Mr. Trump unintentionally did at the Oval Office? 

While Father Musk, an X-DOGE, was addressing the reporters regarding the scope of the Department of Government Efficiency work, Grandpa Trump was unexpectedly seen babysitting Musk’s X. Mind you, it’s not an Ex, it’s just X. Confusing naming trends, much like the language itself. After all, names are born out of a language.

The world is not unknown of the fact that Elon Musk takes his little X to almost every meeting, disregarding criticism — is it a gesture of parenthood or for creating some public perceptions? Similarly, many women across Brazil and the UAE are spotted taking ‘Reborn Dolls’ to different places, making me wonder for a nanosecond — How about adopting a reborn doll?

For those who are unaware, these dolls are gaining attention globally due to their life-like realism and intricate craftsmanship. A hobby turned into a million-dollar business for many craftsmen, and an adorable collection for art lovers. These dolls have also proven therapeutic benefits for women who struggle with infertility or infant loss.

Sifting through different options and on conscious pondering, I realize that I can’t adapt myself to adopt either a pet, a child, or even a reborn doll. I ain’t that adept. 

And seemingly neither is the LOP in India. Considering the current political status of the INDI alliance, they need to be adept enough to Modi-fy their weak and outdated narratives  — not just with slogans, but with substance — or it might cost the party more senior leaders (one could be Mr. Shashi Tharoor) who appear to be modi-fying themselves. The party may want to learn a different RaGa and reinvent itself from its threadbare political structure. It needs to become more realistic in its approach to fill the void of a strong opposition in a democratic nation, akin to the hyper-realistic reborn dolls, which fill the void in the lives of many women across the globe. 

Because Modi — a political figure who consistently and effectively redesigns his vision for a new India, for better or for worse? — doesn’t just believe in surgical strikes when needed, he also has the acumen to strike the spiritual chord of global citizens, as seen in his introduction of the Indian practice of yoga on the Global stage. From local to global — a shared vision for a healthier and more conscious world. 

Inspired by such initiatives, I decided to incorporate a few more yogic postures into my simple exercise routine, and in no time, the universe conspired to help me achieve it. In a couple of days, a good friend of mine shared information about an online yoga session. My third eye, meditatively trained to remain alert, immediately captured the message of the universe. Without much ado, I registered myself for the session. And in a couple of days, in harmony, my body and mind — which are not mine as per the spiritual concept of Sadhguru —  revealed to me that my not-so-younger tissues and muscles need to be reborn. 

All said and done, aren’t we all trying to reborn ourselves in one way or another? Be it at a personal, professional, or spiritual level.

*****

Friend: If given a chance, what would you want to be reborn as?
Me: The grass in my garden is sufficiently green.


Posted on by nikita

A visit to a hospital – Putting things in perspective 

When we were young, we used to get essay topics such as – ‘A visit to a zoo’, ‘A visit to a hospital’, ‘A visit to a museum’, and so on. As these were places I had never been to, extending my imagination beyond a certain limit wasn’t easy. 

But if I were to write an essay today on a visit to a hospital, it would be very different, of course. It would be more philosophical than sheer imagination. 

*****

When friends and relatives visit a hospital, they come with the ‘WH’ questions for the family members sitting there in the waiting area. Questions like — ‘What happened?’ ‘When did this happen?’ ‘How did this happen?’ ‘How and when did you come to know about this illness?’ ‘What did the doc say?’ ‘How long will it take to cure this disease?’ and so on.

And the family member(s) is left with no alternative but to tell his/her story. The patient’s father, mother, sister, brother, wife, husband, son, or daughter is expected to narrate the ordeal like a film script. The family member is made to relive the entire painful experience. It starts with the time, the day, and the date when a particular illness invades a body of the loved one. The irony is that the more they want to forget about distress and suffering, the more they are made to experience it by replaying the same account for every new visitor. It’s exhausting.

Sometimes, the visitor already knows the story, yet he/she will still ask questions seeking confirmation of the known details. It could also be a sincere attempt to connect to the family’s emotional burden.

Also you may come across some family members who seem to find comfort in verbalizing distressful episodes. Generally, they are well-versed with voice modulation. They know which words and phrases require emphasis, and when to pause. They seem to enjoy being the center of attraction, even if it’s momentarily or for the unfortunate circumstances. And with every new visitor, the narration slightly differs since one can’t remember the exact words and phrases. 

And when there are too many visitors at the same time, which generally happens in a big family, the same experience finds various narrators. Even the visitors become storytellers for the just-arrived visitor. They also seem to enjoy sharing their part of the story, with some improvization in the script. They like playing the cameo role of a comforter in the family’s tragedy because, after all, sharing is caring.

An observer and listener, sitting in a corner wonders — Aren’t people tired or bored relaying a story repeatedly? Do they find solace in retelling a tale of affliction? Are their actions out of love and care? Or is it to gain attention, acknowledgement, and sympathy? Or an attempt to make emotional connections?Are they waiting for some validation of their feelings and emotions? Or is it a cathartic moment for them? 

*****

I was waiting for my turn to meet the patient. This hospital was like any other hospital. For me, hospitals look somewhat like railway stations. The only difference is that at the station, we see people with baggage in a literal sense; in the hospital, they carry mental and emotional baggage. 

The hospital I visited also had hurried faces walking briskly towards the medicine counters, lifts, emergency wards, inquiry desks, or doctors on the move to have a quick word with them. The burdened faces of the relatives of patients sometimes appear oblivious to the world around them, like the people at the railway station. 

While waiting for the visitor pass so that I could cross the threshold guarded by security personnel, an unpleasant conversation hit my attentive ears. The man, who seemed to have lost a family member to death, got infuriated when he was asked to show his visitor pass. The fact that the security man hadn’t recognized him even after regular hospital visits seemed surprising to him. With intense displeasure and ire, he blurted, ‘There’s a death in the family and you wanna see my pass! Where will you end up after death!’ 

Once the angry middle-aged man left the scene, the agitated security guard vented his anger in front of his supervisor wearing a black safari uniform. His face and his uniform were uniformly creased. 

This incident made me wonder — Was the security guard at fault for following hospital protocols? Did he even know that there was death in that man’s family? Was the behaviour of the relative of the deceased acceptable? Would it have been difficult for him to follow a simple protocol despite whatever happened in his personal life?

I stood there thinking until the visitor pass was passed on to me and I went to meet the patient.

*****

Teacher: Raga, what’s your essay topic?
Raga: A visit to America. 



Posted on by nikita

An order that brought disorder to an odd-er mind. What if…

colorful drawings on wall

‘Hello! I am Tarun. I am here to assist you today. Hope you are doing good. Please tell me how can I help you?’

My communications – chat and telephonic –  with agents of the largest online retailer would start with these professionally pleasing words. For almost a week, every time I had to narrate the same story to different agents. Almost 9-10 agents. (I would get calls from their Customer Care Service every other day. Thus the numbers:)) At one point I wanted to tell them badly – Please, change the narrative. Let’s just get down to business. No pleasantries. No formalities. But, still, I hadn’t lost my sanity to the point of being disrespectful. 

I would just repeat the same question – Where’s my order?

No sooner had these words left my partially cracked winter lips, than I was bombarded with a volley of counter questions.

Ma’am, could you please tell me the date when you placed the order for these two items? Ma’am, could you please confirm your mobile number and address? Didn’t you get any call from the delivery agent? Did you call him on the sms-ed mobile number to track your order? Ma’am, could you please share the tracking ID of your order?

And every conversation ended with empathetic words from them – I can understand.

Did they really?

Is it possible to feel empathetic at all times? 

I pondered, what if – 

A man tells a woman I can understand your frustration when your pics on IG do not get ‘likes’ in 2 digits along with some positive comments. 

A woman tells a man I can understand the relief you feel when you shed a few tears you are accustomed to holding back. 

A teacher tells the parents I can understand the hopelessness you feel even when your child’s indefatigable endeavours do not give the desired result. 

A wife tells her husband I can understand your annoyance when even on Sundays you are deprived of peace of mind due to the mayhem around. I witness it daily.

Akshay Kumar tells Ranbir Kapoor I can understand that unspeakable disappointment when your films turn out to be a massive failure in a single year.  

Jacqueline Fernandez tells Nora Fatehi I can understand the mental trauma of accepting expensive gifts from a con man whose criminal background we are not aware of. 

Rahul Gandhi tells Kejriwal I can understand the embarrassment you feel after losing the political battle by a huge margin against the BJP in Gujarat. 

Putin tells Zelensky I can understand your feeling of nationalism even when the ramifications of our decisions have brought destruction and death to many.

Heal the world
Make it a better place
For you and for me, and the entire human race
– Dangerous by MJ

2023 – I am feeling scared. In a year my life will come to an end.
2022 – I can understand. 

Merry Christmas
Wish you a Happy & Happening 2023

 

Posted on by nikita · 2 Comments

Agneepath Agneepath Agneepath

flare of fire on wood with black smokes

‘MAKING WARRIORS, NOT WORRIERS’

This is the tagline of one of the coaching institutes in Surat. Whenever I happen to pass by the hoarding with an advertisement for this institute where I see a boy with a sweet smile, his hands folded at the chest and a tagline that states with pride that they are creating future warriors by preparing them for competitive exams, I wonder, why not make them Agniveers? A very recent and new career option. Let them apply to the Agneepath Scheme by the government which is recruiting youngsters from the age of 17.5 to 21 years. Let them join any of the three services of the armed forces and serve the nation. Let them be warriors in the real sense.

If they are not willing to do so, it should be a worry for parents that their children are on the path to becoming warriors for marks, universities and the best job placement in or outside their country. Parents should become Worriers. The institute’s claim of creating Warriors constitutes the notion that writing an exam is like fighting a war. The very idea of education being a war instills fear and anxiety in children, thus making parents anxious enough to consult a counselor. Not a career counselor but a wellbeing counselor. A mental health therapist. So, it’s like such institutions and therapists are thriving and students are striving.

Why do we want our children to become warriors simply to gain the highest score in competitive, nerve-wracking examinations? Are we not audience to wars around us, around the globe, literally and metaphorically?

I understand that for a bright future, one’s career is important. But the smiling faces of students we see on hoardings across the city with their scores or percentage mentioned below their photographs are just for that particular advertisement. Otherwise, most of the time, their faces seem to reflect tension, pressure, and stress. Why are we making academic life so competitive for students?

And I am not just talking about those preparing for such exams. I am also talking about children whose parents send their kids for tuition even at pre-primary and primary levels. As adults, we start instilling in them titbits of fear and reluctance for education at a very early age. We want them to become fighters at a very young age itself.

In any case, they will have to fight wars once they are out in the real world. Not just fight outside, but there will be battles within too. Don’t we all fight some sort of battle within us every now and then? The intensity and gravity might be different for different people, but we all fight battles in our day-to-day life. So, instead of letting children become warriors at an early age and expecting them to fight (compete) with others, why not teach them to fight with their own fear, anxiety, stress, failure? Why not teach them values like patience, respect, compassion, faith, gratitude, courage, discipline, and the like.

Aren’t the wars in the name of religion, culture, race, politics, and position enough for us? Today the youngsters in many states are at war with the government because of the Agneepath Scheme. I am not sure how many of them have actually weighed the pros and cons of the scheme. If these people feel that the scheme is a sham and it is unjust and unacceptable, they have the right to protest. Agreed. But protest without being disruptive. How sane is the idea of disrupting public property in fury, rage, and ignorance? 

We are a nation of Gandhi. The Mahatma. We take pride in his philosophy of satyagraha and non-violence. Then why such uproar and unrest?

यह महान दृश्य है,
चल रहा मनुष्य है,
अश्रु स्वेद रक्त से,
लथपथ लथपथ लथपथ,
अग्निपथ अग्निपथ अग्निपथ।

On the one hand, we have the youth fighting against the government, and on the other hand, we have politicians like Uddhav Thackeray who was fighting a battle within his government, against the Sena rebels along with his son Aditya Thackeray. The drama has finally ended with his resignation as the CM of Maharashtra. And as if this is not enough, in the northeast, we see people battling against nature. It has been almost one month and the people of Assam are still fighting against floods and rains.

And how can we forget Russia and Ukraine?

Making warriors simply for achieving the highest score is not enough. It is a subject of worry. Children need to be prepared for the exams of life because the real world is going to be different and challenging. At such times, marks and merit won’t matter. What will matter the most will be the will to survive. The patience to persevere in the battle of life.

तू न थकेगा कभी,
तू न रुकेगा कभी,
तू न मुड़ेगा कभी,
कर शपथ, कर शपथ, कर शपथ,
अग्निपथ अग्निपथ अग्निपथ।

– Sri Harivanshrai Bachchan

Posted on by nikita · 4 Comments

What’s Your Ikigai?

Let me begin with an example. My job required me to wake up at 5 in the morning and leave home to be at my stop five minutes early. While waiting for my bus, I would see mendicants sleeping peacefully on the footpath, amidst the chaotic honking of the passing vehicles. It was still a good-night-sleep-tight sleep for those people. The parity between us could be the feeling of joy – doing something we enjoyed : the disparity would be the purpose of life. (I doubt if mendicants have any purpose.)

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