The Art of Balancing — Is it for real?

“NJ, you are an inspiration for the other team members regarding work-life balance”.

These were the words of one of my colleagues during my farewell. While I was at my job, many co-workers admired and respected my inclination for work-life balance.

But the recent statements by Infosys co-founder Mr. Narayana Murthy and the chairman of L&T Mr. Subhramanyan have not only shocked me but also compelled me to rethink my work habits and even question my capabilities. 70 hours a week? 90 hours a week? Was it possible for my brain to work sanely beyond an 8-hour job?

And to add to this melancholy, I don’t even have a spouse to stare at me. At least, it would have taken away a bit more of my remaining 16-hour day, in addition to cooking and cleaning.

Of course, Mr. Murthy’s and Mr. Subhramanyan’s approach to work is their corporate way of enjoying life, which is different from mine. To each their own — just like families, friends, and relatives at a marriage, each with their own expectations.

One of the most common scenarios in Indian weddings is the helplessness of the bride and groom in maintaining a balance between their in-laws’ excitement during photography. It’s like a tug-of-war — which family will click photographs first with the newlywed? It’s amusing to watch both parties in constant tussle trying to prove who has the upper hand. Who is superior? Because it doesn’t stop with a single family photo; they gather a crowd of relatives and friends on their sides, each waiting for their turn to be clicked with the couple —  proof of their attendance at the wedding.

Hardly anyone cares about the comfort of the couple in question. No one notices their efforts in balancing the weight on their heads — the groom with a heavy headgear in the form of safa (turban) and the bride with the stiffly and densely pinned pallu to her hair-do.

The newlyweds aren’t the unusual Kumbh Mela babas who seem to have mastered the art of balancing: like the one with a 45 kg tower of rudraksha beads on his head, and another with a pigeon perched on his head. (I thought only Sooraj Barjatya was fond of pigeons who could get his lyricist to compose a hit song on a pigeon in the 1990s.) Such an ability to balance can be achieved only after years of practice and penance, which the newlyweds lack.

This brings me to an understanding that balance isn’t everyone’s forte — whether it’s physical, social, or mental. Whether on the head or in the head. Take YouTuber, Ranveer Allahbadia, for instance, who is all over the media for his inappropriate comments. His apology seems to convey that there was some chemical locha in his mind during a reality show appearance.

Did the chemicals in his Beer hit him so hard that he lost the ability to distinguish between ‘pure humour’ and ‘putrid humour’?

Apparently, at this point, even his Biceps can’t help him fight the backlash he’s facing. And that too for copying the content from an Australian reality show, Alan Vs Sam.

We don’t know why he said what he said.

Whatever the reason, the art of balancing isn’t as easy as giving advice — whether in work, personal life, or maintaining a public image.

*****

An afterthought: What about environmental balance?

*****

Husband: You should have been vigilant about the stuff our child watches.
Wife: I have a WFH (Work FOR home) job. Just like you.

From peri to post, the bells are ringing

Jingle bells, jingle bells, 
Jingle all the way,
Santa Claus is coming along,
riding down his way…

Why am I singing the Christmas song before Christmas? It’s still time for December. Christmas is still away. Of course, I know. I am just trying to keep up with the ‘pre’ trend. 

Nowadays, many things happen ‘pre’ to the event or festival. Like a pre-Diwali lunch or dinner. Pre-Diwali parties. It’s understandable though. You can’t be at different places simultaneously on the same day. You aren’t the omnipresent and omniscient God; you’re simply god-like. And to become a god or be considered God, you should be able to do godly things for real. 

Like the way, women can do certain things akin to god. For example, enduring pain in all its forms – mental, physical, and emotional before and after giving birth to a new life. They create a new life on earth. Isn’t it godly? 

Or even enduring pain every month from the age of 12 or 13 (it could be early/late for some) till the age of 40 (again, the age could vary).  And the painful cycle (many theists might consider it a Karmic cycle) doesn’t seem to end. Appears eternal. Because she still has to go through the stages of menopause — perimenopause and postmenopause. (Premenopause isn’t the correct medical term though people use it quite often.)

In keeping up with the pre-trend, I stumbled upon an amusing idea of connecting these prefixes to different stages of marriage.

For example, peri-wedding — the joy around marriage. It could be the courtship period once the wedding bells are rung, alluding to the likelihood of marriage between two people. There’s joy, excitement, fun, and jingling bells all around. The would-be bride and groom become Santa Claus for each other — giving gifts and surprises to each other, dashing through the metaphorical snow to meet each other. 

Then comes the pre-wedding aspect — the pre-wedding photo shoot. Quite in vogue currently. It’s like helping couples get comfortable with the photographer before they can get comfortable with each other — I mean, getting them to become more confident in front of the camera before the wedding day. 

The photographer gives lessons on the real-life application of math —  what should be the width of their smiles, the space between their lips, the distance they need to keep between them, the angle at which they hold their hands, and so on, so that the couple is thoroughly prepared for the day of marriage. 

And then there’s marriage. There’s music — the dhinchaak music during the procession— filling the air in a literal sense. There’s a Santa-like figure in white attire, the white beard replaced with a black beard (or no-beard), with a garland of flowers or currency notes around his neck, riding in a sparkling horse-drawn carriage. Sleighs can’t run on bumpy Indian roads, I suppose.

For the first few years of marriage, there are flowers, stars, moon, poetry, and everything that sounds and feels romantic under the sun. You are still Santa Claus to each other, but the size and the type of gifts begin to change. The pleasant surprises gradually lose their charisma, along with the hormonal changes. And sometimes you feel shocked not to receive those once-upon-a-time-lovey-dovey surprises. Your reactions are so much similar to hot flashes during menopause. 

But since you are in a karmic cycle, life continues. Until one day, you begin demonstrating post-marriage symptoms. This is the phase when you get used to each other, taking each other for granted, and the jingling bells transition to resting bells used in Buddhist meditative practices. You start considering the sound of everyday music therapeutic in nature. Sometimes, the absence of it brings discomfort and disquietude. The sonorous sound and the wave-like vibrations created by striking a gong (read kitchen plates, here) make you feel like an eternal celebration of the ritual of marriage. 

Whatever the stages be, you live happily ever after.