Home. Sweet Home!

A habitual drunk staggered up to the front door of a home late one night, and kept rapping loudly until a lady in pyjamas came to answer.
“Par’n me, ma’am,” he lushes, “this is an emergency. Can you tell me where Mulla Nasrudin lives?”
“Why,” she exclaimed, “you are Mulla Nasrudin yourself!”
“I know, I know,” he replied, “but that still doesn’t answer the question — where does he live?”

I much find myself in that situation often. Like a driftwood. Not knowing where I belong and where my home is. Even after four decades of living.

As a Palakkad brahmin in Kerala, I always felt that I was a outsider there. (no, nobody contributed to that feeling, it’s self-made). We talk tamil at home (if you can call that tamil) and outside everybody talks malayalam. We siblings as soon as we step out, spoke only in Malayalam – to feel a sense of belonging? I do not know. Then when I came to Chennai to live with my parents, I felt people think us rather as Keralites. I used to joke that we belong neither to Kerala nor Tamilnadu. May be my sense of not belonging started there.

This was further enhanced by the shifting of houses (my aunt who brought me up, was a nurse and she shifted places whenever she got a transfer) and the change in people with whom I lived with – sometimes with grandma, sometimes this aunt, sometimes with that aunt, at an uncle’s place, sometimes in hostel, sometimes with a third aunt. And finally with my parents. That is till I got married . All this made me feel like a flotsam and jetsam. All those places were temporary halting places so much so that even after coming to live with my parents I never felt I was home. This was a constant irritant in my life. My worst nightmares is the one where I am standing on a road for a bus to arrive but so afraid that I do not know which direction I have to go and where my home is. Though, of late I’ve not got that nightmare for some time.

In my search for a home, I found that some places (like a wood, river banks, some temples especially Guruvayur and Tiruvannamalai) and people made me feel at ease. I constantly went to those places to just rejuvenate myself. To fill myself with energy and peace.

After marriage, I got my own house. Oh, we shifted houses (my husband is in a bank) and finally built a house where I’m staying the past five years. That is a permanent dwelling as of now. However when I think about it, I really do not consider it as home. So what is a home? I know it’s a place where I feel at ease and secured and feel as if I do not want anything more. So why is that I don’t get my nightmare these days?

I realized that it’s not a place, a building where I stay. It is about the people you are with. The way they make you feel. I feel at home when I wake up and find my husband near me and I know everything will be fine with the world no matter what. No matter where I live, if he’s with me I feel comfortable. At home.

However, ultimately, I know even that is not real. I can say I have arrived home the day I feel comfortable and at ease with myself. It’s all in my mind. It’s me who is not comfortable and not others. So I am waiting for that flash to strike bhagya so that sheaccepts herself completely and start respecting and loving her. Till then her search is on…

Time to go Home
Late and starting to rain,
it’s time to go home
We’ve wandered long enough
in empty buildings.
I know it’s tempting to stay
and meet those new people.
I know it’s even more sensible
to spend the night here with them,
but I want to go home.
We’ve seen enough beautiful places
with signs on them saying
This is God’s House.That’s seeing the
grain like the ants do,
without the work of harvesting.
Let’s leave grazing to cows and go
where we know what everyone really intends,
where we can walk around without clothes on.
– Jelaludding Rumi. Translation Coleman Barks

Posted in Uncategorized | 2 Comments

An end heralds a new beginning.

an end heralds a new beginning

Image | Posted on by | Leave a comment

My room is full of pink elephants

Mulla Nasrudin complained to the health department about his brothers.
”I have got six brothers,” he said. ”We all live in one room. They have too many pets. One has twelve monkeys and another has twelve dogs. There’s no air in the room and it’s terrible! You have got to do something about it.”
”Have you got windows?” asked the man at the health department.
”Yes,” said the Mulla.
”Why don’t you open them?” he suggested.
What?” Yelled Nasrudin, ”and lose all my pigeons?”

That was one of Osho’s jokes about Mulla Nasurddin. 

Just take a look at my day! 

The morning comes too soon (me cursing: “God, I wish I could sleep a bit longer, can’t even sleep a little longer”). 

My son is not getting ready (“see son, when I was a kid no one stood behind me for everything, I did everything on my own and went to school on time” and worse “God, what did I do to deserve a disobedient son”).

My husband says “why can’t you get up early so that you don’t have to rush like this.  If you had slept on time instead of reading some stupid book till 2.00 am you could have got up earlier?” (“he can’t help me in the morning but can just criticize.  I decide when I sleep and when I get up.  Why can’t he be like the heroes of the books I read? Reading is something which I do for myself how can he comment on that?)

My mom asks, “you are not smiling these days.  You always have a scowl for me”.  (me thinking “what do you think?  I am so unhappy about my blessed hurried life, you want me to smile?  What do you know about managing home and office when you never had to step outside the house”)

My travel to office (“oh these share autos and the traffic jams. How can I live a healthy life if I’m to navigate thru this smoke and dust”?)

This grumbling goes on and on… My thoughts are always how unjust it all is and how unreasonable everybody is towards me where I’m being so Perfect (yes, with a capital “P”. :D)

I remember this line by one of the characters in a book I read recently : “I would not wish to live with me if i had a choice”. 

My Sir, in one of his classes, told us to look at our behavior from the other person’s point of view before judging anybody.  That day was a revelation for me.  When I thought about myself, my behavior, I did wonder how people live with me!  How unreasonable and crazy they will find my behavior. 

Take my husband – for example.  He would have expected a wife like the heroines in the movies – docile, sweet, obedient (hah!) etc etc.  And what am I?  Sweet, docile, obedient – I don’t think those words have passed my horizon even.  I don’t get up early in the morning.  I cook whatever can be cooked fast and don’t enjoy being in kitchen.  I don’t like cleaning or washing excepting when I can get it done through others.  I don’t fuss over him or my son unnecessarily.  I just take the view opposite to his just for fun even though I am neutral either way.  I refuse to accept his point of view just to please him.  Though I don’t fight I tell him firmly that he’s a right to have his view like I have a right to mine and I refuse to change that moment.  May be, tomorrow I might change my mind.   It could be really frustrating for him.  Some days I tell him “I absolutely agree with you” and some days (sometimes on the same issue) I tell him I don’t agree with him.  You get the idea?  I really pity my husband and his life with me is really an example of forbearance and tolerance :D.

And here I crib about my married status and men in general!  Of course, these days, I have decided (magnanimously) not to blame him for my state.  I told him in a lofty manner, “after all, men and women are not meant to live together.  If they live together, there can’t be any peace.  You see, it is their nature.   So it is not your fault or my fault.  So let us forget this issue”).  Another time I told him, again, when I was in a good (?) mood, “see husband.  There is nothing permanent in this world.  Everything is flowing towards an end.  You can’t touch something and the next and say it is the same again.  May be, that is why man has invented so many institutions like family, society, nation, etc etc – looking for permanence where there is none.  When I say I love you, it just means that I love you this moment, I do not know about tomorrow or the next moment.  I might like to throttle you next moment but then that will also pass”.    I do remember asking him another time, “husband, do you love me and will you love me forever?”.  One day I said “I love being married to you” and another day “I am sure a man would have invented the institution called marriage!  That explains the unreasonableness of it.” I must say he was shocked and is yet to come out of it. Ha.. ha..   No wonder he has lost all his hair within eight years of marriage.  I only wonder it took eight years!

My son is another question altogether.  Eight years with me has confused him mightily.  He, being a kid, asks me openly, “amma, I don’t understand you.  Why are you like this?  Sometimes you are the best mom.  Sometimes you are rotten”.  I tell him “son, even I don’t understand myself”.  We just deny kids doing things which we don’t feel right or just because we don’t find it convenient.  Has anybody thought about it?  Being kids they are not in a position to rebel either.  While we know certain things are dangerous (like not allowing them near fire, acid etc), we deny many other things just because, well, we don’t like it.  Like, once my niece asked me, “mami, why do you allow your son to go out with her especially when you know she doesn’t like you”.  I told my niece then “just because she dislikes me doesn’t mean that I shouldn’t allow my son to go with her.  He is an individual and has a right to decide whom he should go with or without.  I don’t want to impose my ideas on him”.  Mind you, i am not that clear headed always and do restrict him as per my standard of “can do” and “cannot do” ideas.

Parents are to be worshipped – no doubt.  Just imagine them tolerating us!  We reserve all our dark nature to them.  We are not ashamed to show our worst character to them just because they can’t throw us out.  I don’t have to give any example – all of us (well, many of us) know what I mean.

Well, even I wouldn’t wish to live with me if I had a choice.  When I was never a model daughter or wife or mother or friend or anything, how can I blame others for what they are?  How can I blame them for my delusions and eccentricities.  I only can make things correct for me.  The only person who can change the state of things for me is me.  The day I can say confidently that “I would enjoy living with me” is the day I enjoy living with this world.  Till then…

Mulla Nasruddin and one of his friends had been drinking all evening in a bar. The friend finally passed out and fell to the floor. The Mulla called a doctor who rushed him to a hospital.
When he came to, the doctor asked him, ‘Do you see any pink elephants or little green men?’
‘No,’ groaned the patient.
‘No snakes or alligators?’ the doctor asked.
‘No,’ the drunk said.
‘Then just sleep it off. You will be all right in the morning,’ said the doctor.
But Mulla Nasruddin was worried.
‘Look, doctor,’ he said, ‘that boy is in bad shape. He said he could not see any of them animals and you and I know the room is full of them.’

Posted in Uncategorized | Leave a comment

Knows not. Knows naught.

Of all the stories about Socretes, I like this one best.  Socretes was in prison condemned to death.  The evening prior to his death, he hears the guard of his cell playing a musical instrument. Socretes requests him “teach me how to play that”.  The guard was surprised and asks “tomorrow  morning you’re going to die, what is the use of learning how to play this now”.   Socretes replies “I can die richer by that knowledge”.

 Whenever I feel frustrated about my ignorance or feel lazy about my lack of passion for learning something new, I remember that story. 

 Another person who inspired me by his thirst for knowledge was my father.  He was just an eighth standard.  I do not know pass or fail – have never asked (my mom used to tease him that he’s 8th fail whereas she is 8th pass).   Whenever he made a mistake in pronunciation while talking in English, I used to correct him.  And he made sure that I repeated it again and again till he got it correctly.  Whenever he came across a new word, he used to ask me for the meaning of that word.  Which has led to some very embarrassing situations for me.  For e.g., one day he was reading newspaper and asked me suddenly, “Kannamma, what is a ‘condom vending machine’”?  He was pronouncing the word ‘condom’ wrongly and hence he did not know what he was asking about.  For a moment I did not know what to tell him (I was may be 18 years then).  I somehow made up my mind how to answer that and told him the correct pronunciation for the word ‘condom’, and explaining the rest was easy :D.


Many a times, I had to read extensively myself to answer him.  When internet became popular, his questions ranged from, What is LAN?, What is WAN? What is internet and how does internet work?  After explaining the theories, I made sure I took him to an internet café (there was not computer at home those days) and gave him hands on experience.  Any new word, any new subject, he was curious.  I learnt from him that one is not too late to learn anything and one can learn from even your own kids and you need not be ashamed of it.  In contrast, if I correct my mother, she always will say “I’m old and have survived so far without knowing it.  Don’t correct me now”.  I’m not saying my father is right and my mother is wrong.  Somehow I prefer my father’s attitude rather than my mother’s.  So, when my son corrects me sometimes (how his teacher pronounces a word is the unwritten rule for him) I do listen to him.  It is fascinating to know his view of things. 


My learning journey has passed through many embarrassing, enjoyable, enlightening and hilarious terrains.


Like when I was fresh from a village in a town, I was very scared.  After my graduation through correspondence, I went for my first job in a concern who were wholesale dealers for batteries, pet bottles and ceramic wares.  Most of the times I was left to manage the showroom.  Here I was expected to talk in English while answering the calls and while attending customers.  I was not at all confident of talking in English.  To be frank, I never used to even utter one sentence in English.  And my Tamil was pathetic too (my Tamil was Palakkad Tamil, which was mostly Malayalam words with a few supposed to be Tamil words thrown in).  We had two managers and both of them used to tell me that I have to try and talk in English and that I can do it if I try.  They made me attend telephone calls and forced me to speak in English.  They used to sit and listen to my conversations and correct me (at that point in time, I did not even know how to use a telephone so the learning started with how to answer a call and what to say after one picks up the receiver).  One of them suggested me reading English books – especially P.G.Wodehouse (I used to read a lot – mostly in Malayalam and I was familiar with most of the English classics as I have read their translation in Malayalam :D).  I still remember the reaction when I voluntarily uttered my first sentence in English to one of the managers.  There was this red sports car parked on the other side of the road and this manager saw that and called me “mami”  (he used to call me ‘mami’ because I used to wear only sari with pallu pulled over to cover both my shoulders – like old movie heroines – and with a big bindi).  He called me and said, “mami, look at that car.  Don’t you want one like that?”.  I looked at that and told him “I don’t fancy”.  He gave a whoop and jump and called the other manager, “KSK, come here fast, hear what mami told” and both of them were beaming.  I can never forget that.  From then onwards, my life has been a series of corrections and revisions. 


Another instance I remember clearly happened when I was working in a hospital as a secretary to a doctor (my second job).  By this time, I had learnt to speak English reasonably well and I was half-way into Hindi (which helped me speak to North Indian patients) and was struggling to learn Telugu.  I must say I gave up on Telugu after learning a stock of few necessary phrases – five lines to be exact – to say ‘doctor is in his rounds’, ‘doctor has gone home’, ‘please wait outside’, ‘no appointments today, come tomorrow’ and ‘I’m going home’ – to get me through the Andhra patients.  My boss used to dictate letters to the doctors who referred patients to him giving his diagnosis and medication.  In one of his letters I typed he told me that one medical term was spelt wrong.  So I went and checked the medical dictionary and found him to be right.  I went and told him he’s right and I’ll redo the letter.  He just threw the file on the table (a habit of his) and told me “stupid secretary, it’s high time I changed my secretary”.  I did not say anything as I knew I was wrong.  After a few months, looking at another letter, he told me that a word is spelt wrong.  Now, this time it was a normal English word – I think it was ‘maintenance’ – and I was confident that I spelt it right and told him so.  He wanted the dictionary and I got it for him.  He checked and said “yes, you are right” and signed the letter.  I picked up the letter and was about to go out.  I remembered then and turned and told him sweetly, “I think it’s high time I changed my boss”.  He was shocked for moment (may be confused) and then burst out laughing and said “yes, you can”.


It’s not just words and language, mind you.  Even before my first job, I worked for a month as a casual employee, in a multinational company.  I had not completed my graduation then and was pretty scared of the people there – especially ladies who I thought looked down at me as if i was a mosquito :D.  One of the ladies gave me  a sheet of paper and asked me to take a Xerox copy.  Now, I have never in my life seen a Xerox machine (remember, I’m a village girl :D).  I went in the direction she showed and went inside a small room which had a box which I assumed was The machine.  A man was just leaving and I asked him how to go about.  He told me you place the paper there and press the green button and you’ll get a copy.   I placed the paper, prayed to God and pressed the green button.  Now, in that machine, the lid moves all the way as it scans the paper (these days everything happens inside) and comes back (I did not know that then).  When the lid started moving I got panicky.  I thought I pressed something wrong and the top is about to fall down as a result.  I grabbed the lid and tried to pull back.  As me and the machine were battling someone else came to take a copy and shouted “what are you doing?”.  I was about to cry, I told him “I did something and the top is going to fall and I’m trying to pull back”.  To be fair, he did not laugh, he just told me “leave it, that is how it copies”  (you may laugh… I am).


In my next job, I developed my fascination for all gadgets.  It started with a telephone (I must say I was always confident of using a screw driver.  While in hostel, the only one who could change a fuse wire was me.  No one, not even the watchman knew how to do it.  Oh, when I did that for the first time, I never told them it is the first time I’m changing a fuse wire and I’m learning it as I’m doing it :D).  My boss, who was the financial director, wanted me to  find somebody to connect a new telephone.  There was no easy plug and use phones then.  You have to connect all the wires inside the junction box.  I promised him that I’ll get it done by the time he returns.  But then, I couldn’t find anybody.  I did not want to  say that I couldn’t do it.  So I thought “why can’t I try”.  So I obtained a screwdriver from somebody and went on doing it.  I just opened the junction box and looked which colour wires were connected where and then went on removing the old ones and connecting the new ones.  As I was closing the box my boss came in and I sheepishly told him I tried connecting it since I couldn’t find anybody.  He picked up the receiver and it was working.  He was surprised and asked me how I learnt it.  I told him I learnt it then :D.  My next job opened up the world of computers and then onwards there’s no looking back.  I am fascinated by any new technology and don’t lose an opportunity to read about anything new.  My husband can never understand why I keep a set of tools at home and try repairing anything first before calling somebody else (he swears that he’s never touched a screwdriver in his life and is not going to either).


Though most of the above instances are more than 20 years old, even now I realize that I do not know anything.  Imagine the scientific and technological advancement.  Imagine the number of subjects one can study.  Imagine the amount of knowledge available.  One can never learn enough and one can never say “enough”.  One can never stop learning, can one?


To sign off, I have this mulla nasruddin story:

One day  a young village teacher who was a seeker for knowledge told Mulla Nasrudin that he had decided to travel across the world to seek additional knowledge.  

When the young man asked Nasrudin what kind of people he should look for, Mulla Nasrudin recalled some wise words he had once heard from his elders: 

 He who knows not, and knows not that he knows not, is a fool.  Shun him. 

He who knows not, and knows that he knows not, is a child.  Teach him. 

He who knows, and knows not that he knows, is asleep.   Awaken him. 

He who knows, and knows that he knows, is wise.  Follow him. 

Then Mulla Nasrudin paused for a moment and said: “But you know how difficult it is to be sure that the one who knows, and knows that he knows, really knows.” 


Posted in Uncategorized | Leave a comment

…in the end one always blows one’s nose!

I was reading the Harry Potter series for the nth time and I read this somewhere there: “It is our choices, Harry, that show what we truly are, far more than our abilities.”

Something, very interesting happened y’day when I went to the rest room in my office. We have two toilets inside the rest room. When I went in both of them were empty and one girl was standing in between. I asked her which one she’s going inside so that I can use the other one. She smiled and told me that is what she is confused about :D. She can’t decide which one she wants to go in. I waited for a couple of seconds and told her “you go in there and I’ll go inside the other one”. She complied. I wanted to laugh. I was thinking what if there was only one toilet available. There wouldn’t have been any confusion. And wouldn’t life be simple if, at any given point in time, we have only one option. Then will there be any guilt or regrets? I do not know as it is not so many a time.

Mulla Nasruddin is chosen an honorary magistrate. The first case appears. He hears one side and declares to the court, “Within five minutes I will be back with the judgment.” The court clerk could not believe it — he has not heard the other side! The clerk whispered in his ear, “What are you doing? Don’t you see a simple thing? You have heard only one party, one side. The other side is waiting, and without hearing them you cannot give any judgment.” Mulla Nasruddin said, “Don’t try to confuse me. Just now I am absolutely clear. If I hear the other side too, then there is bound to be confusion.

At any given point in time, we have choices; to do or not to do, to speak or not to speak, to act or not act, to choose this or that, to drop this or that…. Life gives us endless potentialities and choices. Yes, it’s our choices that make us what we truly are! It just means that I am what I am because of my choices. And I have the freedom to select a different kind of behavior next time.

This is exam time and my son, as natural to any kid of 8 years, wants to play and not study. I am not there to make him read as I reach home ver late and very tired. So far, I have never bothered about whether he studies or not because he’s been scoring very good and even if he scores a little less, next time he catches up. But this year, his scores have been very erratic (either full marks or zero 😀 – “amma I know the answers but I just didn’t write!”) and so I decided to teach him myself. He wants to play with me and his choice is not to study. My pressure shoots up as I shout at him and I end my day miserably. This went on for a week. Then I thought. Why am I spoiling my mood? Yesterday, I decided not to shout at him. I decided I’ll be patient no matter what. And yes, I managed to do it. This morning he asked “amma, why didn’t you get angry yesterday”. I told him “I decided not to spoil my health by getting angry. But do not think this is going to be my standard behavior – I might or might not shout but you have no choice but learn”. The thing is he knows all the answers but he leaves his answer paper blank. His choice :D. I can only hope he feels like writing when he has a test. It becomes hilarious after you try to react differently.

It’s worth seeing the face of others when they expect you to behave in a way and you do the exact opposite. You know once I told my husband “I am angry with you”. He asked me why. I told him there is no reason. I just want to be angry. If he wants a reason he can offset it against anything he does in the future which is supposed to make me angry. He just looked at me (I know, I know. He knows it too :D).

There was a time when I was very rigid. I used to walk on the same side of the road always; go to the same shops, cross at the same place, eat the same things…. These days I just behave as I feel at that moment. . The same question if asked at different times, I might give different answers. For the same activating event, I give different behavior different times. This just looks like a play. And there are times when I look and laugh I myself for taking me so seriously.

I may regret some of my choices. But not for long because:

“Whatever tears one may shed, in the end one always blows one’s nose. —HEINRICH HEINE, 1797–1856

Posted in Uncategorized | 2 Comments

Perfect 10

I recently told my wife she should be happy I married her — I’m the perfect “10″. This seemed to surprise her just a bit. I explained that I am perfect 10% of the time. Let’s face it, we all put pressure on ourselves sometimes to be perfect. We all want to do things “just right”. There is a certain pride in accomplishment that just can’t be denied. We can be our own harshest critics. But nobody can be or should be perfect all the time. If you can be perfect 10% of the time, you are doing great! And the next time your spouse, a parent, your child or a friend criticizes you, just tell them they should be happy to have you – you are perfect 10% of the time. Courtesy: http://self-help.thehappyguy.com

This morning, my son was refusing to get ready for school. Usually, my husband gets him ready while I work in the kitchen. This morning, my husband got angry at my son and walked out saying he can’t ready him. My son has to start at 7.50 and me before 8, only then I can reach office by 9. I requested my husband not to be an ass, but he won’t listen. My son also was running around not listening to me. When my BP shot up, I shouted at both of them, especially my son (poor kids, you can get away with shouting at them, but not your husband). My son started crying and after some time my husband relented and came down to ready him. Anyway both of us were ready on time and before seeing my son off, I gave him a hug and kissed him. He asked me, “amma, why are you like this”? I asked him, “like what?”. “You scold me some time and other times you are sweet”. He really sounded confused. I told him “son, I am sweet when you behave and I am angry when you don’t. it’s very simple”.

Well, it was not that simple. I feel miserable that my mornings run ahead of me. I feel miserable I am not able to manage my work and my home together. The thing is I want everything to go smoothly according to my convenience. Whereas life is not that way. People have their own agenda which need not fit with yours. As told by Khalil Gibran in Lazarus and his Beloved “Everyone looks through everyone else to see someone else”. I have an expectation about my son’s behavior, I want him to behave in a way. But he is another human being with a different agenda. He does what he wants to do. And I get irritated because it is in conflict with my agenda for him. Most of our conflicts with other people are because they do not act according to our perception of how they should behave. Remember, they have a conflict with us because we don’t behave as they wish.

Whenever I heard about other women managing both home and job efficiently (my husband enjoys enlightening me ), I used to feel miserable. Why am I not able to do that? There was a time when my self-esteem was at rock bottom. When I sat and thought about it, I realized it is because I wanted an A+ in everything I do. That I wanted to be best in whatever I do. Then I decided enough is enough. I am not a super woman. I am not perfect. So what? There are many things which I can do better than some. I do what I can. That day onwards that burden of not being a perfect wife/mother etc. disappeared.

It is very difficult to be perfect in whatever you do. If you ask me, I would love to be perfect in whatever I do. However, I realize it is not possible. I end up a mess when I try to be perfect. These days I do whatever I do to the best of my ability. I don’t expect a perfect 10 in everything. I know I am not a perfect. But I do try to better myself every time I do something. Though doubt about my efficiency peeks out at times, majority of the times I am contented.

I guess this mullah story makes a perfect sign off:

There’s the story of Mullah Nasruddin, who was asked why he never married and answered, “I was looking for the perfect wife. I went to Damascus and met a wonderful woman but she had no spiritual side. Then I went to Cairo and met a woman who was deeply spiritual, but we didn’t communicate well. I went from place to place looking for the perfect woman, then finally I found her and she was beautiful and spiritual and we communicated well. She was perfect.” Then his friend asked why he didn’t marry her, and Mullah Nasruddin replied, “Unfortunately, she was looking for the perfect man!”.

Now you know why there are no perfect wives !

Posted in Uncategorized | 3 Comments

marking it with clouds!

Donned in felt,

I commune secretly with the blooming bush,

With feelings peculiarly my own.

Just this day, my hairs have begun to turn white:

Last year, the flowers looked redder than these.

Their tender beauty is going the way Of the morning dew,

Their fragrant breath is evaporating Into the evening breeze.

Why must we wait for their wilting

And falling before we can realize

The evanescence of life?

– Fa-yen

A friend of mine is staying with me for a couple of months. As children do, my son, likes her very much. So much so that these days he’s shifted his bed to her room. My mom, who takes care of him when he comes home from school till we reach from office, is upset and jealous that he is closer to her. I must say that the first day he said he’ll sleep with her, I tried to make him sleep in his usual place. But then I told myself, he’s just a kid and it’s better to leave him on his own. There is no point in troubling myself. After she leaves in a couple of weeks, he’ll resume his routine.

Afterwards, I thought about it and started laughing. My hubby asked me with concern why am I laughing suddenly (he always has his doubt that I’m a little off my onions). I told him about my reasoning of my son’s behavior and my logic that he’ll be back once she leaves. He asked me what is there to laugh about in that. So I told him the humour is in the assumption that I am permanent in this world. Just think about it. He has to move away some day or other. He might have to go away for studies, job and then he might get married…. I could die…. And here I’m thinking that once she goes he’ll come back to his routine 😀

If we think deeply, what is there to worry about? Whether we like it or not, accept or not, we are here only for so many years. At some time or other we have to leave whatever we hold dear. I am not saying that we should not hold anything dear. What I’m saying is that why can’t I leave them when they go away? Why all this melodrama? We want whatever/whoever we hold dear to be near us. We don’t even want others to touch it or have it. Why this mentality of poverty? Most of my problems are because something comes to me (which I don’t want) or something goes away from me (which I want to stay). If we just allow things to come – and go – as they do, our problems can be more than halved.

Somebody told me recently that she is unhappy with her husband. The main reason is that she wants to be kept informed where he is each moment and he doesn’t. I asked her in what way it helps her? Just imagine… Why would I want to know where my husband was the whole day? Honestly, I believe ignorance is bliss many times. People. Things. we cannot hold on to anything. That is the universal law. Things come and things go in our universe. Come on, we are also coming and going in somebody else’s universe each day. How can we freeze one moment? It is not possible.

We can’t always hold on to one thing. Just imagine! We might miss out on something else. The trick is to hold and then release, hold and then release.

There is this mullah story. A man noticed Nasrudin digging a hole, and asked him about it. The reply was, “I buried something in this field last month, and I’ve been trying to find it all morning.”
“Well,” said the other, “did you have some kind of marking system for it.”
Nasrudin said, “Of course I did! When I was burying it, there was a cloud directly over it that cast a shadow—but now I can’t find that cloud, either!“

The more we open the grip, the more happy we will be. I would like to sign off with a quote from one of the characters in some book I read. “There’s troubles enough come in life, milady. No need to marry them”.

Posted in Uncategorized | 2 Comments