Tag Archives: #parents

Thathastu to Thesis

How often is writing the observing of the observed and the observer? I wonder about the process and now the tumult that is in my head as I am trying to make sense of my research and getting to start to write my thesis.

I have been fence sitting to be honest, going around in circles of a task that is incumbent upon me. It is like I am always thinking about writing but not writing.

It sure worries my guide, and I see that in her.

It sure worries me too, yet I stand and watch how the process unfolds to get me to the stage of putting it out on paper.

A task so humungous that I am surprised I have come this far. A subject so dear that as I go about talking and reading I am caught deeper in its whirlpool and seem to meander about clueless of where I am heading.

It has been frightening, as if this last leg of the journey rather than being exciting, has been intimidating to me, scaring me of something I am not very sure of.

And the incessant call of the stories swimming around in the air I breathe, asking me to listen, just listen and speak, as if there are myriad souls wanting to find an intermediary, a voice, but am I good enough for that? And the work of course, with multiple excels that need submission almost on hourly basis, and my fear of anything numerical compounding my worries to no end.

I feel tossed and turned like a pendulum swinging against extremes, trying to hold my stance, worried, yet somewhere a feeling of satisfaction creeps in, as if the process painful as it is is also one of deep joy, that I should have the comfort of worrying about writing and not perhaps putting food on the table, that’s is a state of achievement in itself. A feeling that the worst is behind me keeps the smile stitched on the face.

Knowing the paths that have led me this far, I know of the learnings that have stood me in good stead and the friends that I have found on the way, and if death had to stop by and call, I would say happily, come, let’s go, I have done my part though of course, I could do more. Which of us can’t or won’t want to do more.

I seek the comfort of knowing that the the universe, sits by my side and eggs me to complete the learning process that I started before I jump headlong into the next.

I seek the presence of a soul for whom my learning was a ticket to a better life, though he chose a different path and left too early to another home, perhaps a better one, and gave me enough fodder to keep learning forever.

I look at my parents for whom my efforts at learning is a validation, being taunted for not learning enough in life, and living in a certain shame, which try as I do, they cannot seem to overcome, ‘after all we didn’t study beyond 10 th std’ is now replaced with amma’s constant crib, ‘if only I had the opportunity to learn’! to which I have no answer.

I look at her wilful spirit that recites a poem now and then, that learns sanskrit shlokas and talks with pride of the book I brought out and I have to smile, living as I do carrying the dreams of two in one life, that of my brother and mine, and sometimes tiring out in the labour of it all, yet finding strength as if from above.

I look at my daughter for whom it is ‘important to see you happy, ma and I know you can do it’.

So long, to my PhD Thesis writing, I bow and seek blessings from the universe and somehow deep down know that she says, ‘thathastu’.

Winding up

A sense of winding up has entered me and a restlessness that comes with it. Perhaps it is the reality that its time to get back to work or that I have to move out of this island of tranquility here at Kopparambil, away from the pouring rain, the orchestra of crickets and the sweet clamour of birds chirping away in a life of great busyness.

I am drawn to this place more than ever and to its ambience of calm remoteness, that the very thought of it is soothing to my heart.

Yet, work is there to complete. The research has to be wound up, completed, processes to be followed.

Then, perhaps then, a life here of writing, training, some travelling and of making ice creams, yes, loads and loads of ice creams,home made and ready to be sold, hmmm… that sounds inviting somehow, very appealing and it is just early morning and I am back to dreaming!

That picture sort of appeals to me. A few years back I fancied being a cab driver, that should be great fun or so I thought, to whiz past the city and have some good conversation, will it be good always, hmmm maynot be so, still it is worth a try. I was tempted really, still am.

Then it was to sell cookies and coffee, which I kind of do well I guess. So, a cafe with books to read and a lady of some reading as company should be a cool idea. So I thought and I still do.

Now its the ice cream that I want to make, loads of it, then dance classes to run and to attend too, lots of writing, some training and the birds chirping and the crickets busy at their orchestra, sounds interesting…. well, life has always sprung surprises, so I can merely give suggestions, after all its is for Him to dispose!

But the break has been good. It was great to be the kid who appreciates the blessings of pampering by parents. It was great to be allowed to sit and read and write and be taken care of. It was great to listen to stories, my childhood, his childhood, what they did, how they did, there we went, there we did not go and how it all happened… stories galore!

Mostly the abundance of a village home, of plenty of jack fruits, mangoes, guava, tapioca, all sorts of berries and greens which cross fences and reach your dining table, in an eagerness to be consumed and well appreciated for being who they are and the constant jostling of parents, ‘look at him’, ‘see, this is how he is’ and then the little things you do that seem to make their lives easy, add this contact, shut this noise, book that, visit the atm, buy this medicine, call that person, somehow making you feel somewhat useful and rather important.

But now its is time to pack up!!!

And I am hugely reluctant!!! Life!!!

Out of a time capsule

The all consuming role of a mother so entranced me that I had no clue of a world outside for over 2 decades. Life went by swiftly and I woke up with a shock and a surprise when I saw my lil girl all packed and ready to move.

Oh! dear me! what am I to do now? My heart cried out when my bestest pal and the only one on the planet sought permission to move ahead in life. I struggled to keep calm and maintain my composure as tornadoes broke out swinging my heart like a pendulum. I lost appetite. I imagined worst diseases that awaited me. In fact I decided to be a renunciate and move out of the city to the calm of a faraway ashram. What is there in life any more? The purpose of living is now moving out.

Strange but true, I hit the rock bottom from the happy space I had found myself in but I worked on myself continuously. When an incurable sudden pain appeared on my left arm, I realized it is nothing but manifestation of my emotional baggage.

I decided to look around and reconnect to people, colleagues beyond the so called utilitarian purposes, it was difficult and it still is, for a recluse like me to step out of my comfort zone but I did and took some chances on the way.

The experiences have been mixed and I am navigating a new territory yet the learning has been immense. I discovered world anew, changes I had not noticed, people who I did not know existed. The trepidation is still there, the fear or the doubt and the hesitation but there is also a willingness to understand and not to distrust at the first instance.

Mostly I look at my parents and learn resilience everyday. I find what power good intentions and a good heart can bring to lives, theirs and to those who they interact with.

As I start my research work and connect to new people and listen to them and make notes, the universe seems to have stitched the threads of all goals into one, seamlessly, by connecting faraway dots and allowing me to watch new patterns emerge.

I look on in wonderment and hope, eager for a brighter morrow and hear its approaching footsteps.

What is Success to you?

What is success to you, asked a student? Me? I asked surprised, perhaps feeling a little important.

Success is taking out the 2 wheeler after having sold the car to buy a laptop in a time of emergency, (now who does that?, well I did) and riding it after 10 years to college, with a heart crazily thumping out of fear and being startled every time a new gen motor bike whizzes past me!

It is reaching home safe and getting a sweet sleep, by far my bestest friend ever!

It is being able to pay the bills and being able to be there for those I love and sometimes for those beyond my small circle.

It is walking out of a classroom with a smile of satisfaction and being greeting with happy, cheerful faces in the classrooms and the corridors.

It is sky, who seeps into my conscience to clear doubts, fears and always promising new hopes.

It is a brother who sits far, very far and looks over in love.

It is having achan and amma and ammu in life with Andrew of course.

It is a few friends who ask how are you?, do you need something, can we go out together and so on.

It is a purr and a fragrance and a knowledge that life experiences have been good and being grateful is the only thing to do.

It is being able to write and speak your mind when you want.

It is being able to be there for your parents and being able to do what they ask you to do, despite your misgivings, for success is happiness and nothing beyond that.

Success is new learning of what is not known and a sense of wonder at living and that life is love in bits and pieces and a hope for a bond of a lifetime.