Blah!

Some of my recent reading (and listening) has made me think about "my generation". Although this may come off as a gross generalization, I have observed in me and around me that we are all overwhelmed. I know that I might be getting an eye roll for using 'overwhelmed' instead of 'lost', but I really do think that we are not as lost as we may appear to be. We are just overwhelmed. In our defense (God! this sounds like the opening of a debate) we all just have too much thrown into our faces. First of all, we were brought up to believe that we could achieve anything we wanted to achieve (that's probably because our parents met each other in the 70s). As feminist Courtney Martin puts it, we were raised as precious little snow flakes. We all inherited, to a certain extent the uber-progressive-liberal ideologies of our parents. I still remember how blissfully  unaware  I was of the caste system in India, until I changed schools and was confronted, by the group of popular girls in my class who asked me about my caste. I came home and asked baba what caste we belong to and he told me to go back and reply, "I am a human being and that is enough". I was innocent enough to do it. I spent two lonely years before I was finally accepted as one of the popular girls in my class. :D

In my travels abroad, I met many men and women with a similar (or even a more left leaning)upbringing. People who grew up in communes, who lived in communes themselves, people who knew more about Yoga than I did (You don't really have to think liberal to be liberal. All you need is a headband with a peace sign on it, a $100 Yoga mat slung across your shoulders and a bicycle), people who could trace their ancestry back to about seven different countries and people who did not really care about social structure.

Of all of these, I have always found it very difficult to agree with the last kind. Some of my friends have blamed it on my Indian upbringing (which also came from the stereotypes for India they grew up with) or my personality (I come out as a strongly judgemental type on the Myers Briggs test). Being Indian and preferring order over chaos, were apparently my 'undesirable' traits when I was in the company of  liberals. But when I traveled to America, I realized that there were many twenty five something people around me who actually preferred a clear social structure, had faith in the institution of marriage and family and were also very progressive on issues such as women's health, education and immigration. It really messed with the black and white parts of my head. Jonathan Haidt explains it better than I can.

Some of us in our zeal to change the world, forget what we really owe to all the religions. It is true that we have grown up in a world which has a potential to induce a severe identity crisis in us, depending on how far we let our guards down. We have perhaps witnessed the fanatic and divisive side of religion to a greater extent than our parents. But by not opening up to religion, we also deviate from the basic quality of being liberal -- being open minded.

Another common practice of my generation is to associate freedom with actions. Maybe we have inherited this from the previous generation. From people like Kerouac. We think that traveling will set us free. We think that preserving the habits of our youth, all life long, would keep us young and set us free. I was fascinated with On the Road, by the sheer span and the events of the book. But I was also filled with resentment for the life that Sal Paradise lives. Particularly to the slightly begrudging allusion to the women in the story line. Somehow, women seem like an obstacle in men's way to freedom. The road is more enticing than setting up a home, a resting place on your way. Perhaps that is why my generation has also witnessed an age of long lasting female friendships. Maybe someone could come up with a feminist version of On the Road!

Whatever we "do" to become free ties us down in some way or the other, maybe as emptiness, loneliness and insecurity. Too much choice has the potential to at best slow us down, or at worst, lead us astray. And an overarching structure if not social, emotional, would perhaps put our lives into perspective. So it is not surprising that I have always met people who think like I do, in Yoga or Meditation sessions. Why do we need it so early? Why do so many of us seek peace of mind at such an early age? Is it because there is pressure to constantly display the best of us? Is it because our existence is so virtual that we never log off to face the seemingly ordinary yet essential activities of everyday life (watering the solitary plant in your room every day, at the same time?).

Maybe we seem overwhelmed now. But at this pace, I think we would end up either as perfectly balanced fifty year olds orstubborn lunatics. :)

 

Epilogue

I recently watched this Israeli film at the Pune International Film Festival (PIFF), which is happening in Pune from January 10th through 17th. The festival opened in a sombre mood with Epilogue, directed by Amir Manoz. This film has already been showered with many accolades in other film festivals and it certainly speaks for today's elderly across the world.

Hayuta and Berl reside in a tiny, decrepit apartment, in a low income neighborhood of Tel Aviv. Their somewhat painful, yet comfortably familiar routine is disturbed, when a welfare officer visits them to assess their "fitness levels", by conducting a short but humiliating exercise. Although the incident itself is small enough to ignore, Berl and Hayuta's pent up frustrations get ignited by this one event and both express it in their own ways. The movie is open ended but the beauty of this film is in the details.

In his youth, Berl has been the follower of the romantic Jewish socialist movement, which in spite of its failure, is still alive in his heart. He remembers himself as a revolutionary. But the couple find themselves lost and ignored, and in Hayuta's words, irrelevant in the new wealth consuming world. They grow older with an expectation that people would care for each other in the end, but find themselves left alone. In addition to the grief of failed dreams, now in their eighties, they also have to face the reality of failing health, and not enough money to cover the cost of medication. In a touching scene, Hayuta slowly takes off one item at a time from her list at the pharmacy, to fit the most urgent medicines within her budget. She has to let go of her insulin in the end, but the young man at the check out takes pity on her and brings it to her outside the shop as she is on her way out.

Another outstanding element of this film is the use of humor, even at the saddest turns in the storyline. The humor transcends the nationality/cultural background of the actor-directors  because it comes naturally, as it would between any couple who has spent their entire life together. And the plot also goes beyond the film as it is our reality too, especially in the developed world, where the populations are aging. Social welfare looms over many European economies as the next big peril. However, when you are in the prime of your life, it is hard to imagine just how lonely and helpless you could become when you are sick and helpless towards the end of your life. These people often end up being an election statistic but it must be a very emotional period of their lives, when they look back with happiness, pride or regret and look forward with apprehension, as they go through the aches and discomforts of their present.

PS: For some reason, Google doesn't let me save images on my computer. Is it me or Google?

Keep scrolling, I am Pinterested!

About five months ago, as I was finishing lab work and settling into manuscript writing, I started feeling really old. It had been a while since I had tried to "keep up" with the times. For example, I did not know what Instragram was and why everyone on my newsfeed used it. Plus, I found one grey hair comfortably hidden away under my side fringe. So in retaliation to all these panic attacks, I decided to find out what Pinterest and Instragram were. Two weeks into it and I was extremely Pinterested.

In the beginning, I was sure that Pinterest was going to be another Twitter for me. I have not been able to get Twitter. I tried to study how others use it but I still prefer Facebook. Over time, I accepted that I am not a Twitter person. When I first read about Pinterest, the description "time waster" stayed with me. Three weeks into getting a Pinterest account, I could see how it lives up to that nickname.  What I really like about Pinterest is that it is all about images. Originally, it was a hit among fashion followers. Big clothes and shoe brands have a "pin it" option if you want to share your find with friends and followers. It pins the image of the merchandise you liked on your board, which brings me to the point where I should tell you how this works.

You can create boards on your page (similar to a story board, which is a common illustration technique used in the fashion industry). You can pin various images on your board and you can organize your boards according to their utility. For example, you could have a dedicated 'recipe' board or a 'quotes' board. You can also use your creativity and make boards on a specific theme that reflect your taste. If you click away, the pins lead you to the original source of the image and this is precisely what makes it a big time waster (and a money waster too if it leads you to shoes). No wonder around 80% of its user base is female. :)

Some users desribe the Pinterest experience similar to that of leafing through a magazine. And perhaps that is also why it is so popular with the girls. Maybe, we associate it with the time we spend getting our nails done or getting a foot massage, as we browse through the latest gossip. But it is not just that. It is relaxing also because it is an entirely visual experience. It doesn't involve the opinionated Facebook and Twitter chatter. It does not involve direct interaction with other users. It gives you the opportunity to browse and escape in what grabs your attention.

It also gives you an insight into what interests people who are not like you. For example, even though I have sufficiently long hair, I had not thought about braids until I saw a board dedicated to, yes, braids! You can also see very inspiring boards dedicated to various causes. Right now, I am back home in India, taking a  break before I decide what to do next. My day goes by effortlessly, managing the diet food I need for my weight loss program, watching NatGeo and Comedy Central on T.V., spending an hour or so browsing through pins, reading a book, and spending my evenings with friends. I should write this down now because some day in the near future I am going to be jealous of this past me. :)

Silent battefields

After my dismal performance in the 12th grade exams, my mom took me to a counselor because I was depressed. During our sessions, the counselor was mostly sympathetic but at times, he also reminded me of the trivial nature of my problems, in the face of the bigger picture. Then, he recommended that I talk to more people, outside my social circle, which at the time consisted of highly competitive eighteen year old kids. My anguish had two layers: the first layer was my disappointment with myself;  the second layer was my anger at God or whatever operating force there was, for making me least successful in the set of around four friends.

Since then, I tried to trivialize my mental blocks and struggles to see if indeed, I was the product of the "rich kid" syndrome. One of the biggest differences I found between developing and developed countries was the nature of emotional struggles of  the people. But over time, I have realized that  trivializing "rich people problems" by placing them against the apparently larger struggles that the less fortunate go through, is not exactly being fair.

One such example, is the issue of female beauty and body image. I read this article in Huff Post on the 24 best moments for women in 2012. Out of those, 3 focus on body image related issues. The most prominent being the war Lady Gaga declared against people of the media who criticized her for her recent weight gain.It also features 12 body image heroes including Adele and Stella Boonshoft, who writes the Body Love Blog. There is of course, Aishwarya Rai, our own body image hero, who walked the red carpet at Cannes gracefully in the face of YouTube videos of her overweight pictures with elephant sounds for background music.

The problem again is two layered. First, it is our own struggle trying to maintain a healthy weight amidst crazy work schedules, motherhood, slowing metabolism and sometimes, just taking it easy for a bit and not hitting the gym. The second layer is always the bench mark we are compared to, or at least women in the entertainment industry are compared to. Sadly, most of the benchmarks here are airbrushed before they are published. You don't even need to be Aishwarya Rai to get criticized for gaining weight. It happens to everyone at some point. What with all the skin lightening creams and diet pills being sold in the market! Every Fair and Lovely advert on T.V gets on my nerves, not just because it tells us that having a darker complexion is an unfortunate predicament, but also the fact that the ads are so well accepted by everyone.

But above all, it is the critic within us that is the harshest. There is a point where we tend to echo what we see around us and what we put up with. Sometimes, the opinion of a few or even a single person matters so much to us,  that we turn blind to ten others who think otherwise. And when one Lady Gaga challenges her fans to fight for a cause, we can see thousands rallying for it. It is important to know our limits and to take care of our bodies with compassion. But it is equally or perhaps more important to surround ourselves with people who do not make us feel ashamed or helpless about something we may not have complete control over. Becoming aware that you are unique and you cannot be a "standard" anything is not easy. And standing up for yourself after that realization is an empowering experience. In the end, it is a silent battlefield but I am sure that it is one of the most significant victories for the woman who goes through it and comes out triumphant.

Conversations

Invisible children that fill the empty space
Between us, in a cold, gloomy pub
I start sketching first, sometimes,
And then everybody helps me dress them up.

And slowly, the attention shifts from me,
To these delightful invisible people
They have their own identity, created
In collaboration with a lot of  collectively inebriated,
Hence more flexible minds

Sometimes, it is the child of the present
Born out of a snide remark
Sometimes, it is the baby of future
Emerging from an impossible dream
Sometimes, it is the clingy fat kid
That refuses to let go of your foot
As you try to go to the next room
The child of the past, how typical!

You try to be a proud parent
Driving it in the right direction, as
It jumps up and down on the social
Trampoline that the group creates..
Sometimes, you try to influence others' kids
Sometimes, you just don't want to believe
That you created it, as it goes out of control
Right in front of your eyes!

Whatever the outcome, my friends
You have to  know that I am not interested
As much, in the attention I get
As I am in dressing up my conversations
Using your ideas.

So don't blame me for taking all the attention.
Because,
If I don't talk,
No one has a good time.

 

What makes you happy?

Whenever I ask this question to any of my friends, they go blank. I don't know why. Perhaps because everyone is looking for a larger, loftier goal that would eventually make them happy. Happiness is usually in something that is yet to be achieved. But what about local happiness? I have found out that the things that make me happy are really insignificant in the larger context. But they have the power to make me happy instantly, and keep me happy for a long time. Those things are like the complex carbohydrates of the world of emotions. :)

For example, the other day, I collected fall leaves with my flatmate. Then I googled the recipe to preserve them and I spent a part of my afternoon pressing them into a wax paper and immortalizing them. Sometimes, after Yoga, I cook myself a very light dinner and usually go to bed thinking about breakfast (Nutella on toast). I wake up feeling really happy on those occasions.
There is a lot of happiness in watching birds. I often spend my Sunday mornings watching the social patterns of the geese that flock around the lake outside my apartment. Watching the sun kissed sky in the American Midwest has also been a source of joy. I don't know what it is about the sky here, but it is exquisite. The sunsets especially, make me want to cut out a piece of the sky and use it on a quilt.

There was a time when "living in the moment" was a mission. I remember being very regimented about being in the moment and I remember failing very badly too. It was during my PhD when I was really obsessed about having a plan for everything. I remember trying meditation and being utterly exhausted at the end, trying to control my mind. And I can't fathom why it was so difficult to control it. I don't know what scared me so much. I think my fear was mostly related to other people and my failure in their eyes. But it is really hard to define what failure is. Or for that matter success too. Because sometimes, failing makes us happier than sustaining success as defined by someone else. Sometimes, the fear of failing is more crippling than failure itself.

There is also this feeling, which can be described as I-don't-want-to-trade-my-life-with-anyone-else. You suddenly become genuinely grateful for your journey. It happened to me during my France trip. The whole trip sort of happened in a haze (mostly because I did everything last minute). One day, when we were in Paris, my best friend (and flatmate) Elodie and I were crossing subway platforms to change lines. At the junction where all the stairs meet, there was a chubby accordion player. We did not have much time but Elodie decided to let the next train go and requested that he play "Bella Ciao" for us. He did, and we danced together on that filthy, crowded subway station. That was a bitter sweet moment. Mostly because I knew I cannot do anything about it once it is over. I knew it was going to hurt just as much as it made me happy. But above all of that, it made me grateful. It is only in moments like these, when you know that the only "reason" this is happening to you is to make that little groove, that notch, that scar of memory on your mind, so you never ever forget that you have been loved like this.That you have been this lucky.

Then there is also this question that is often overlooked. How deeply can you fall in friendship? How honestly can you sustain it? How many times do you have to distill your emotions to get rid of envy when you are friends with someone? How many times do you have to ignite little dynamite cylinders to get rid of the barriers you build in friendship, to protect yourself from an honest opinion? Sometimes, our friendships go through a loop and we return to innocence. But we have to stay and fight until the end of the loop. The ends of these loops are important not just in friendship, but also everywhere else. Somehow, as we simplify ourselves, we can manage a better performance with each of these small avartans. It is our expertise as dancers on our own stage, with no one else but ourselves as audience. I guess the happiness also comes from impressing ourselves, by not making the mistakes from the last time we looped (pun intended).

And I guess, when you are grateful, every little joy is happiness. Happiness doesn't stick to deadlines or public performances. And then probably, the answer to that question would eventually be "I make myself happy". :)

Happy Birthday PurpleMoon

Another year gone by and I can see how I am losing my enthusiasm to write here. :)
But that said, I would like to wish my blog another (hopefully more interesting) year of posts.
And Thank YOU for visiting.