Tu Naa Jaane Aas Pass Hai Khuda: Faith in the Times of Corona

Corona Virus

Just as I thought we had surmounted the Covid curve and wrote a blog post on how to beat the lockdown blues, we got it. The entire family. Scattered over three apartments in the same area, we were fighting our own battles with the monster eating our vitals from the inside. 

Father had to be hospitalized twice - once for Covid and later for post-Covid care. He battled like a hero. He still battling various symptoms and side effects that are eating him up even now. It's been a month and a half since he tested positive. I have always looked up to him. He has shown time and again the qualities I would like to imbibe, a strong will to survive, seeking help when needed and an impatience to start over forgetting the problem and looking for solutions. 

Despite all my effeorts, being alone in my home, mother in hers, father in hospital and sister's family huddled in hers all fighting didn't make it easy. 

Everyday began and ended with news of death and loss. It was as if no one would be spared. I thought for a few days that my time was up too. Darkness in my head and the smell of burning wood in my nose kept haunting me. 

Corona Mural

I lost and lost and lost - a brother-in-law who sang beautifully, an uncle who was a quiet and benign presence and my WhatsApp friend for political satire and memes and finally, my brother and best friend, uncle's son - all within 15 days. 

I was overwhelmed each time a friend said they needed oxygen for their brother or hospital bed for their mother or an uncle or aunt - most of these people never made it.

There weren't enough beds in the Capital's hospitals, oxygen was being smuggled and sold at skyrocketing prices at obscure places and medicines and injections were unavailable even online. Private hospitals with next to no facilities were charging anything for a bed in an isolation ward where the patient often died all alone. They died in the big, fancy hospitals as well when oxygen supply would suddenly stop and ventilators would stop working. They too died all alone. No one knew if they would ever see their loved ones once they were taken to these isolated wards. Often they emerged wrapped in plastic body bags and their last rites were being done haphazatly without proper rights or rituals because of Covid protocals and because the lines outside the crematoriums and graveyards snaked like a railway track. People were now scrambling for contacts in police, administrative and even political circles to find a space for their loved ones for their last rites.

Lines for cremation

They died struggling and finally, accepting that death was the only truth while all of us scrambled around trying to find at least oxygen, or unavailable injections being sold at five to 10 times the original price in the black market. We didn't know anyone in the political circles or in the judiciary or bureaucracy who could help us jump the lines and get us a bed in a hospital with ICU facility.

When all else failed, we would scroll through the social media sites seeking help from strangers. The help would come but, often too late.

I was sad, I was helpless, I was ill and very, very angry at everything. All strong emotions on an empty stomach with infections in liver and kidney and a strong bug wrecking my guts. 

It was much easier to give up taking the steroids that were allowing to keep my oxygen above the 80s where it had fallen for a couple of days. The other options would be hospitalization or, getting medical care like, IV drip for the severe dehydration and oxygen at home. It was near impossible to get it the virus had peaked and people were dying outside and inside hospitals either waiting for a ventilator bed or, because the hospitals were running out of oxygen.

It was as if there was no end to the relentlessness of the situation. Friends and family, neighbors were trying their best from outside. I was getting tired of being prone on my stomach and thinking morbid thoughts as blood dripped from my nose and my ribs hurt, I knew that this is one enemy that's going to have me for good. 

I wrote to a couple of people I consider as my older sister and brother from other mothers to say how much their support and love had meant for me over the years. I didn't dare write such messages to the family and older people though. Most of them were either battling the disease or would be really scared by such morbidity. 

My friends from school and college kept calling and messaging me. Neighbors scurried around getting medicines, steamers and nebulizers as no pharmasy was picking up the phone or, if they did, they simply said, the medicine I wanted was not available. Some even refused to deliver since I don't use any money transfer App and they couldn't accept money from a Covid patient. I don't blame them.

Meanwhile, the people I had messaged my goodbye to also started messaging and calling me to boost me up and push me to take medicines. They tried their best to get a hospital bed or oxygen but, didn't succeed. But, seeing them try so hard for me along with my college friends scattered all over the country and the worls, I started feeling an urge to live. To meet each one of them and thank them. To hug them and laugh with them. 

My next door neighbor, an elderly person kept calling me three or four times a day wanting to know how I was doing or if my stomach was good enough to take some food. On days I said, 'yes I think I can manage a little food', he'd make a meal and not caring I had Covid, would slide a disposable pack of nourishing meal at my door. But, he'd never leave it outside on the staircase. 

On days when I wouldn't pick up, he'd knock on the door and keep waiting till I opened and said I was okay. Such kindness is rare and overwhelming coming from so many people - some cousins I had not spoken to in years because of our busy schedules were calling up regularly and boosting my morale and checking on me. 

Faith

A strange thing strated happening around this time. While mourning the loss of near and dear ones as well as thanking the universe for filling up my life with so much kindness, I started talking to God pretending She was there in the room with me. She became my mother and caregiver. 

I ate, slept and took medicines knowing She was around. I was overwhelmed when I felt her presence all through the nights when I couldn't sleep because each time I closed my eyes, my breath would choke and wake me up. I was begining to be drowsy all the time. I had the same problem sleeping even through the day. 

Divine Mother 

She would guide me through the scary thoughts into a more happier place or memory. When I worried about my father all alone in a hospital full of other patients or, about my mother who was very ill though not with Covid, She told me that they were getting better and if anything happened to me they would lose all the ground they had gained. I believed Her.

On some days She'd not answer my prayers all day but, come over at night and tell me She was very busy because there are so many people who need Her. It was true.

It all sounds crazy now but, it was Her presence in my life that saved me. In an empty apartment full of dark corners, the faith that She was there and holding my hands was enough for me to start healing. It maybe my faith or belief but, I need to tell this story to everyone - we will sink without faith because the virus enters the brain and takes the patient to a very dark place. 

The only thing that pulls you out is your will to live. I got mine from a warm presence that egged me on to make an effort, to surpass all negative thoughts and start eating, take my meds on time and wash and change my bedlinens every couple of days, to clip my nails, comb my hair, take baths on time - small things that we take for granted.

I realized that the virus had taken away the functions that that I was born with, hunger and breathing. It was  wrecking havoc in every organ including my brains. It was making me take a cocktail of drugs and still bypassing most. 

With the realization came a will to fight. Her presence filled me with courage and I started boiling vegetables and rice and started eating again. It took me a month for me to climb out of the vicious hole I had slipped into but, I crawled out inch by inch, buoyed by all the prayers I had been getting from all those people on my phone who I could not see but, who wanted me to win. 

It's been a couple of weeks since then and I have been hit by another bout of stomach troubles - post Covid problems according to the doctor. I have been fighting it for several days now. Sometimes I get tired and despair but, then I remember my struggle for a month with the monster and go about taking care of my basic routine. 

I know that this too shall go eventually but, till then, I am going to give it a fight. Bleak times sometimes last a long while but, it can't last forever. Nurture yourself to fulfill your destiny on earth. 

This is my most personal post till date. I have opened my heart and spilled my rotting guts here but, I wanted to do this because, it's an experience I wanted to share with everyone. Don't despair and don't give up on yourself. When in doubt, pray for yourself and you will find the way out of this viral mess called, Covid19.

Take care, stay healthy and say gratitude everyday. _/\_

Aas Paas Hai Khuda

Finding Joy in the Times of Corona

Happiness has become a premium product in 'Corona Kaal' or in 'The Age of Corona'. Simple things like, hugging and talking to someone face-to-face has become taboo for an year now. I won't lie that it has been easy for me either though I am a self-confessed loner. I have tried everything to keep myself gainfully occupied even when work became scarce and family members needed to be taken care of and the best way was to take them in.

Gainful employment took various meanings for me - cook, clean, shop, chop and drop (dead at the end of the day.) Also, I went back to art and writing by hand, keeping journals, diaries and doodle pads. I tried to go back to my childhood looking for things that made me happy and dug out board games and old Doordarshan shows on YouTube.

The only time I took the camera out of the house was last month when it seemed that the virus was on the wane but, it has made a comeback this month and how!

One whole year later, I can honestly say that non-deliberate slow living is a killer.

Don't take me otherwise, I am a great believer in slow living and must confess that it has been great for me when I had been practicing it deliberately. Not when it was enforced upon me last year by a pesky virus.

The top 10 things that kept me going during Corona Kaal were simple things that mostly included - but of course, human interaction.

1. Spending time with my family in my home (that would never have happened under normal circumstances.) At one point I had both my parents and then, I had my mother, sister and niece staying with me. It was hectic and physically taxing but, such happy times. I am really thankful for the six months my house was open for my family.

2. Spending winter afternoons at the building terrace chatting with neighbors, playing board games, watching flashy migratory birds in the nearby clump of trees, singing, drying launtry in the afternoon Sun and enjoying bonfires in the evening. It was a piece directly out of my childhood memories. Full of warmth and smell of burning logs.

3. Sharing food with neighbours and exchanging recipes. Don't even get me started on this one. The last year was the year of extensive and experimental cooking till most people started getting dreaded words like, cholestrol, uric acid and what not in their yearly blood reports! 

4. Going out once in 10 days to buy groceries and chatting up with the vendors. Talking to the shopkeepers and roadside vendors and listening to their stories and issues are highlights of my week. The market days are full of local news and political discussions. I really look forward to them over the ease of getting everything delivered at my doorstep.

5. Finding out shops that sell art and craft supplies and spending whatever leftover money from the groceries on paint and paper, brush and pens. It was so therapeutic. Creative outlet is my go to psychiatrist these days. Or, at least an instant pick-me-up.

6. Meeting known faces on the road and passing them by because of the mask has been crazy but, upon realizing who it is, it's the best feeling to be able to spend a few minutes talking and exchanging news however mundane. Just saying 'Namaste' or 'hi' to someone I am used to talking all the time before, never fails to make me emotional in a happy kind of way these days. 

7. Gardening. Can't explain what the sight of a thriving plant that I had foraged or a new leaf coming out of an old plant makes me feel. I must confess that I have cried at the sight of a new leaf - go figure!

8. Writing by hand. It made me so happy that I had stopped blogging altogether till today. Enough said.

9. WhatsApp maybe a curse and have broken up old friends with new political differences but, the video calls were highlights of many a days when there was nothing to look forward to but, long winter evenings that were really hard. Family and friends from different cities and other parts of the world were there to reassure that I was not alone. Many of my uncles and aunts and also my mother learnt how to use the video calling facility and it made them feel so happy to see each other and talk like they were in the same room. Warmed the cockles of my heart.

10. No thanks to mainstream media with its made up news but, YouTube's the hero all the way. Truth found a new space here though it is under government scrutiny these days. But, with videos on myriad topics from food to lifestyle, DIY, art, culture and 'real' news. I think YouTube's slayed it for me. 

I won't say that was all but, these were defintly the things that kept me sane and grounded. I also re-started Yoga since my annual blood report fared no better than that of the rest of the world. 

Mainly I learnt that my happiness is totally dependent upon me. I alone am responsible for keeping it sane and healthy. I am not ashamed to say that I did touch rock bottom several times and lost some loved ones and spent sleepless nights praying for recovery of others. But, through it all what kept me going was faith that, 'this too shall pass'.

Despite the shelved life plans, scare of even a single sneeze or running nose or inability to make rotis that are soft and fluffy everyday or, not being able to plan for the future, the things that keeps me going are, kindness of random people, smiles of complete strangers and a strong belief that this is not the end and life will be back on tracks - soon.

Do share your experinces as well. Because, together we will get over this too. 

Take care and stay safe.

Picture Credits: Shoma Chakraborty

Standing Still

There's a life 
Without rush.
I want to be in it.
To stand still
And look at the 
World passing by.
I want to stare at the clock.
Count the minutes.
Lie down.
Watch the clouds.
Taste water 
On my tongue.
Close my eyes.
Count my breath.
Feel the breeze
On my arms.
The goosebumps.
The heightened sense,
That makes me alive.
I want to be,
In that life.
Uncluttered,
Unfettered,
Uncensored.
I want to be
In that life 
Without rush.
~ Shoma 

Artwork: Shoma Chakraborty

The Lost Song of the Soul

The soul, knotted, frozen,

A leviathan waiting for winter to end.
Wakes up with a start.
Lost and disoriented.
It opens its eyes.
I shudder.
It cries.
The noise shatters my eardrums,
Chokes my breath.
I stop breathing,
Fearing the intrusion.
It thrashes, threatening to break free.
I shudder and clutch my heart.
My hands get drenched in blood.
Warm and gushing.
But, wetness of its tears weights it down.
Turns it cold.
Its transparency drowned in salt and water,
Senses nothing.
Just the numbness of a cryogenic winter.
I push it further down,
My fists covers its face.
Making it unfamiliar.
My limbs climb on its back.
Choking it into submission.
Tired, it slumps into a dark hole.
Cold, hungry, sad.
Its fight muted into submission.
I take a small breath.
Unclench my fists, crack my knuckles.
Hearing familiar sounds.
I lie to myself.
Life moves on.
One baby step at a time.
But, my heart still bleeds.
It knows,
That its only a matter of time.
~ Shoma

AI – Rule Changer of the Future's Here

The future is going to be right out of the fantasy sci-fi that you grew up reading. Why? Because with the integration of Artificial Intelligence (AI) at workplace the basic manual jobs will most likely become redundant.

Not just that, even traditional trades are going to be taken over if they rely too much on data and analytics. In time perhaps creative ones that need twisted thinking could also go.

Age of Computers

Imagine your child reporting to a robot CEO 20 or 30 years down the line. Sounds like Doomsday Prophecy? It’s actually as real as the bitter cup of coffee that wakes you up every morning.  

Remember the scare when computers invaded offices in the 90s and mountains of files started gathering dust in the corners? Those who were unable to pick up ‘computer’ were shown the door or had to go through the indignation of learning ‘how to type’ at computer training schools. Only it was much more than typing.

The youngsters who came straight out of college took over and the old school, straight-backed wooden chairs were thrown out for recycling. Most people thought job markets will take a plunge but, it turned out differently. With the help of computers and human intelligence innovations were churned out every day. New jobs happened because new businesses came up. Jobs that were difficult to explain to traditionalists came and people quickly adapted to the new demands and grabbed them with both hands.

Birth of eLearning

With the new age jobs came the need for training. The elearning market took off like a kite that refused to come down as companies shifted every task on computer.

Soon, words like simulations, decision tree and enterprise learning became jargons that we threw at each other at the speed of light. At first reluctant of taking elearning as a serious training tool, most organizations soon changed stance when faced with the daunting task of retraining their existing staff that held so much collective knowledge plus brand loyalty. But, putting everyone into a training room to upgrade would brought production on its knees for days. Elearning turned out to be the only way to close the skill gap and not lose production time.

So, Subject Matter Experts who had all the knowledge in their heads were searched within the company, found and aligned with learning development organizations to help create a single platform of learning for both the new and the existing staff. Everyone was happy and productivity shot through the roof.

Rise and Rise of AI

But, for the last few years as we were getting cozy with Siri in our phones and starting to rely more and more on her for decision-making, AI crept into our computerized, file-free offices. It was faster than people had anticipated but, not altogether a surprise because everyone was already using various apps on their smart and savvy phones.

In the age of start-ups, many smart and young men and women realizing the potential of the new unicorn, started experimenting with AI and getting results. They found godfathers in technological giants who had ridden the computer wave successfully.

Microsoft announced publicly that it will be nurturing AI startups and Apple was a pioneer always thanks to its progressive thinking and future-predictive founder, Steve Jobs.  

Keeping Jobs in the Times of AI

As learning development experts we need to up our game. There is no time to sit and wait. Why? Because there is no clear indication how organizations would integrate AI into their systems.

Like no one had predicted that a traditional job like law would go to an App. It was recently reported that JP Morgan had invested in an AI-based software that can read and correct legal documents thus saving them 400,000 lawyer hours! Imagine what happened to the army of lawyers on retainership with the company. 

They mostly became redundant because a much cheaper system that has analyzed and stored knowledge of all old contracts that JP Morgan had made for clients over several years. Lawyers would now be needed to come down once the draft is complete to give it a once over. All small tasks like tweaking language and changing names on the contracts that used to be billed by these individuals would not be required to be done by them anymore.

What Next?

So, if the corporate lawyers have no job what will they do?

Good question. How about learn a new skill that doesn’t so much need data analysis as creative or mental skill for example, a surgeon or a medical professional.

Sounds bizarre? That’s because it is. But, breathe easy because that was just a guess.

There is no knowing what would hit us in the future and we as learning professionals have to keep that in mind. Innovation and forward thinking are the only two skills that will set us apart.

Reinvent and Reengage

There is a popular adage, to beat the enemy, infiltrate the enemy’s camp. It’s time to do just that.

Learning professionals should start unlearning and re-engage with the new technology. If you want to experiment then, this is the time. Learn all you can about AI. Get familiar. Read, ask questions and understand how it works.

The knowledge you gather now, will help you become tomorrow’s leader. Because when AI invades office space and all the organizations will again be thinking of how to retrain their loyal staff, you would be able to guide them smoothly through the transition.

Clue: This transition will not be much different from the initial days of elearning and mobile learning when the machine that was supposed to eat up jobs became the host for retraining.

So, don’t wait. Get cracking!

Time to Write Herstory

Love me not for I cannot be what you want me to be.
I cannot let you do it anymore.
I will not be the woman you want me to be,
Docile, subservient, voiceless, sacrificial.

It is time for me to unfurl the flag and shout out.
I am bleeding because of your cruelty.
I am suffering because of your indifference.
I am dying because of the gag you put on me.

I have to do this, reclaim my own.
For myself and for those who are at the tip of your gun.
Hanging from the broken ceilings they weep blood.
Their lifeless feet swinging in the fog shout for justice.

I will fight for them.
I want to see them live, to thrive.
They are all mine - women, farmers, tribal - my tribe.
I want to do whatever is taboo because you say so.

I will stand in the front of the line,
Face the bullets of those like you who fear me.
I will bathe in my own blood and fall lifeless on the asphalt,
With cracking sound of broken bones.

I will be dead but, unvanquished.
I will win because, you will finally see, 
the blood on your hands.
I will fall from the pedestal, lay crushed on ground. 

I will not let you live without a conscience.
History will judge you.
Generations will spit on your face.
It's time you knew what's coming.

Innocents will take what's their own.
They will take the bricks from the home you paid for.
The fire from the kitchen you ate from.
The love that you took for granted.

I will start the fire that will burn your fear.
The fear that makes you so vulnerable.
The fear that makes you forget that you are not alone. 
Fear that makes you put me up on a pedestal.

I want to be in control.
I want to decide destiny.
Away from your shaking hands holding a gun.
I will write my story on my own.

I am not afraid of those you doubt my ability.
I will rewrite history.
It will no longer be yours.
It will be Herstory or mine.

~ Shoma

In which I Pardon the Universe and Seek Forgiveness

Letter to the Universe

Dear Universe,

I am really appalled at your insensitivity. I fail to understand why you have to pick up only the negative strands and stupid things said in utter innocence in the heat of the moment and manifest them. It is mighty daft of you if you ask me and has played havoc with my life.

You seem to be like the matron in this super-strict boarding school that listens through the keyhole and hears only the absolute worst and then, takes action. It's totally unfair.

Often I say a whole lot of things just for effect - never meaning it to actually happen but, you seem to latch on to just those. Out of these also you seem to pick up only the absolute worst of the lot and go about making it a reality. Come on!

What about the zillion times I wanted great things for myself directly? Wait. You were not listening. You were busy listening through other poor victims' closed doors. Why would you listen to something that's not dramatic like, problems, miseries and heartbreaks. 

Like when I asked for fame and riches you were totally deaf to my entreaties but, the moment I said - for effect, "I need tragedy in my life to hone my craft," you were right there jumping in to fulfill my most gigantically stupid utterance till date. 

Sometimes you make me feel like we'd be better off without you making the wishes of the most vicious of villains through history come true while overlooking the collective conscience of a million victims. How do they get to you when the hordes of innocents like me go through life partially - read selectively or whimsically - unheard?

Listen, I believe sincerely that you are super-busy and therefore multi-task. But, you must understand that Shakespeare must not win. You know, the Brit guy they call the Bard of Avon. He said in his play written during Elizabeth's era (1500s!), about a delusional father who suffers for his own ego, 

"As flies to wanton boys, are we to the Gods,
They kill us for their sport."

I sincerely hope that you are not trying to make that quote by old man Shakespeare come true. I am sure it was not a wish he wanted inflicted upon mankind.

Listen, I know you are overworked with this surge in population and taking care of innocent babies in the war zone that's the world today. But, I'd really appreciate it if you read this and not just listen through the keyhole when I am crying out that, humans need to be exterminated from the face of the Earth because they are killing the planet. Believe me, it's just a rant. What I really mean is that they should mend their ways and try save the environment.

I need you to read this post because I am going to do something really nice for you here - I am going to forgive you for all the sins you have committed against me.

Dear Universe, I understand your limitations in understanding anything indirect and covert. I also understand that you must be flooded with serious prayers everyday and the numbers are only rising. I also get it that with rising wars, terrorism, crime and wanton fly killing activities that humans are indulging in with more and more frequency as their numbers increase exponentially, you are becoming stressed and hard pressed to pay attention to  peaceniks like me who really don't matter because, "hey! I am not trying to poison the water tank and wipe out a whole town any day in like, ever."

So, I want to do something nice for you today. I want you to remember this when you do the Shakespeare thing on me next. I want you to feel good about all that you do and have done for me keeping my "wishes" in mind. I want to thank you for them. I want to thank you for family and friends and neighbors who care and love. I want to thank you for all the blessings that you have conferred on me like, good health, sharp mind, compassionate heart. I want to thank you for unconditional love that I get and for the roof over my head and food on my plate. I thank you for the education I received and continue to receive till date.

With this, I want to absolve you of all your past misdeeds and say, "I forgive you."

There. I have said it. I pardon you for all the hurt that has come to me because of your poor listening skills. I understand that it was also due to my poor communication skills. 

The fault in my stars is actually a two-way street and I am also not without a blemish. I promise to change my ways and void out all stupid and irrational utterances as soon as they leave my mouth. I will try and be more of a Zen-ist than a Satirist. More direct than dramatic. I hope you will also stop listening selectively once I do that.

I promise to think before I speak and treat myself with more respect and behave with more caution when it comes to you. I also promise to work hard on my communication skills to be able to improve my relationship with you.

Here, I want to let go of my anger towards you - whatever little there is of it and give us a fresh start. I know that you do not do emotions so, I am sure you are neither angry nor upset with my ranting which should be good for our future partnership. I plan on putting all the mistakes we made together behind us when I publish this blog piece.

I also most humbly would like to apologize for my own limited understanding of you and my frequent bursts of anger / frustrations at you for getting it all wrong. In so many ways the fault also lies at my own doorsteps. It's my own communication skills that make it so difficult for us to understand each other. I promise to work on that in the future for a more profitable partnership going forward.

Dear Universe, I am sorry and with this I want to turn over a new leaf in our partnership and start afresh. Please accept my humble apology and my absolve-sion of you for all the past miseries you have unknowingly inflicted upon me. 

From this day forward, let us live as best friends who communicate well and react to each other favorably.

Thank you for everything good in my life and lots of love to you.

Yours truely,
Shoma

Practice Self Love to Slay Moodswings

In the last few years I have had to stand face-to-face with sadness and depression a few times more than I would want to. While it turned out not too alarming but, it can. I have lost a few friends to it already.

I think the trick lies in understanding your feelings and being in touch with yourself. The minute you start feeling the downward gravitational pull, just hit the panic button.

Meditation has helped over the years with hightened awareness but, it also makes me vulnerable at times because it has pulled a whole lot of walls down from around me in a world that wears armor at all times.

Depression 

Depression is the gnawing in your soul that makes the skin under your hands and feet crawl even when you sleep. That kind of sums it up for me. Depression is nobody's friend. I can vouch for that because I have lost more than a few happy friends to it.

Art 

Every time I feel sad, I turn to creativity even if it has to be by force. For me art and words are the two tools that bring stability in chaos. It may not be true for all. But, throwing yourself into serious work or even cleaning the house just makes it worse for me.

Food

I love to cook when I am alone but, when I feel sad, I just think of eating. Pushing myself to cook works because eating the end result is always an uplifting experience.

The DIY Managing Life Changes List

Reading

May or may not work always. I try choosing reading material that promises happy ending or a solved mystery.

Films

Movies also fall in the same genre as books. They sometimes work too well and push me into a creative mode but, at others, they push me into darkness and mistrust.

Sleeping

It works like a dream but, in the long run, it is a downer. Avoid sleeping. Instead binge watch a sitcom or all the seasons of Sex and the City (if you can lay your hands on it).

Exercising

In my case, aimless walking works but, exercising behind closed doors makes me lazy afterwards. I love to think I am moody but, I know now that it is not true. I tire easily in structured environment and it is highly probable that the lethargy I feel is more mental than physical. So, choose your exercise regime with care.

Stay Healthy to Stay Happy this Winter

Planning

That works amazingly well for me. I plan itineraries and make up speeches I am going to give when I am famous. It immediately changes my mindset, lifts my mood.

Social Media

Is lethal unless it is a space / platform like Pinterest that allows creation of boards full of things you would like to do one day. I would put it under planning. Under any circumstances stay away from WhatsApp and Twitter - they are toxic mostly.

Family

It works like magic. Sleeping next to your mother at night, no matter how old you are are a sure way to feel happy but, it could backfire as well. Remember parents love to make things "right" for you and seeing you unhappy can pull them down as well.

Beat Stress without Breaking Sweat

Hobbies

That's another lifesaver but, I have to push myself to get things going. Journal writing helps immensely because it allows venting as well as planning. 

The idea behind writing this digital post is selfish. These posts act as reminders every time I feel the force of gravity on my mood. I have gone back to writing physical journals. I use pens, colors and imagination on diaries that I can read later and feel proud of. 

Yes! Self love is absolutely important and we must keep patting our backs at all times. It's the surefire secret to a lifelong high.

Anatomy of Depression

(Images: Pexel.com)

Memories of Ma's Guru of Knitting

My mother is the most graceful and ladylike person I know. There is not an iota of tomboy in my ma. She is always poised and has the right expression for most occasions except when she is scolding me for being the exact opposite of her.

Portrait of my mother
Photo: Shoma Chakraborty

My mother is also a very complex person to understand. A child of the partition she had spent all her life telling us stories about their ancestral home in what is now Bangladesh. Though I could never imagine the sheer magnitude of that house but, the house in north Calcutta that she grew up in is a huge thing covering two lanes with openings on both sides. All her girlhood and early youth was spent in that cavernous building with latticed varandahs and stained glass windows and green Venetian blinds surrounded by family and relatives. She had scores of uncles, granduncles, aunts and grandaunts not to mention a zillion cousins. 

From a joint family of eight siblings where everyone was good at somethings and would help the others with their skills from school syllabus to culinary and fine art and knitting/ sewing she was married and had to start her own household in Delhi all by herself.

Suddenly in her late 20s my shy mother realized that she was knocked out for a six. Married and moved to a city where no one spoke her native language, she started from scratch to reinvent the proverbial wheel. From learning to cook with the vegetables and fresh produce available in north India to learning how to explain even the smallest of things in sign language to hoards of people everyday who were mostly uneducated like the vendors, cleaners and shop keepers she decided to learn everything from the language to sewing and taking care of one overweight and over-indulged over-energetic toddler (moi).

By the time she hung up her spurs, she was teaching Hindi along with Social Sciences in school. 

Her stories of how she picked up the skills are not always cute. Some reek of helplessness and others were sheer grit. Some like reading and writing Hindi happened because she had to help us with homework. Cooking is something she was always great at and her cooking was always healthy even before it became a fad. As an old school friend recently told me, "your tiffin was always great tasting with no oil running even when it was okra and your rotis were thin and even." She should know because she is a food Nazi these days.

But, it explains why all of us have stayed the same size through the decades.

Anyway, a few days back we recalled this really cute story about her learning how to knit - a skill she puts to great use every year though her skills are absolutely rudimentary - no purls and chains in her stuff but, lots of practical cover and tonnes of love.

Here's the story of her learning knitting.

As a young woman with a leaky toddler in the 1970s she needed a lot of sweaters because even at age -1 I was always hungry and ever eager to either throw up or pee and since there were no modern diapers, it meant her changing my clothes several times in a day.

So, my poor parents were buying mini sweaters by the buckets to keep me warm and clean because my ma couldn't knit. 

The house we lived in was divided into four flats and there were two more Bengali families with five teenage kids who were always taking turns to pet me like I was a little furry animal. Not to say that I did not lap it all up. Till the age of five we stayed in that house and I was the cynosure of all eyes - the happiest toddler ever.

However, among the five was this young boy who was very sweet, slightly crazy, artistic young man with a golden heart and a wicked sense of humor. He was in sixth standard and was very attached to my mother because she allowed him to eat from her kitchen all day. He too - like me - was always hungry.

He also had a soft corner for me and my mother and so would keep an eye on me when my ma was busy with chores or had to take a bath or use the toilet. He would bring his books and sit next to me doing his homework while ma finished her personal chores and tasks. I remember spending a lot of time with him even as a toddler. My ma also helped him with his studies because he was not too good on his own and there was no one else to help him because all the other elders in the house were working. 

So, the legend has it that one day he asked my ma in confidence why she was buying so many sweaters because all the other women knit for their children. It was the done thing and he himself had never worn anything off the rack. He was really outspoken for his age and no one minded it because their was no use asking him to mind his own business.

Hence, my mom broke her silence on the taboo subject and let him into her little secret. She told him in strict confidence that she didn't know how to knit. 

That sad confession must have really touched his heart. Imagine a mother who cannot knit for her child! It was a huge scandal. He had fodder for a big gossip but, his kiddy heart was not inclined to abuse the trust of the elder who was actually helping him with his studies and who trusted him explicitly to let him look after her infant and fed him scrumptious stuff everyday.

Instead he decided to change the situation. He could because he had the power to do so.

So, the next day - weekend, he asked her to meet him at the rooftop in the afternoon and leave me with my father.

My ma agreed without asking why thinking maybe he wanted to learn new English words like always.

The next day they met on the terrace. Everyone else was enjoying a siesta after a mutton lunch - those were the days without TV and Internet!

So, the two co-conspirators got to work. He had stolen a ball of wool from home and had brought it up with a couple of sticks from the bathroom broom. 

He had learnt how to do basic knitting watching the women in the house and since he was a little guy who was always crafting  something they never even bothered to tease him. Most were scared of pulling his leg because his sense of humor would tear them to pieces. 

With that one stolen ball of wool and two coconut leaf sticks from the broom he initiated my ma to the art of knitting and taught her whatever she knows today. Hence becoming her knitting guru.

My ma who learnt quickly never looked back, though she didn't try increasing her repertoire by adding designs and styles.

Just last week, when my mother was knitting a small yellow sweater for my toddler niece who wants - "verrrrry loooseee sweateee!" My father suddenly looked up and chuckled, "each time you pick up the knitting needles, you should take a few seconds and thank and bless your guru."

They both laughed and I felt warm without a sweater.

Memories are the most beautiful things and this one melts my heart. 

A Piece of Sky and a Roof Over the Head

It is a truth universally known that you have not arrived if you do not have the key to your own home in your hands - at least here in India.

I do not agree that an arrival of any kind is heralded by the ownership of a house but, I do concur that it feels damn safe to have a place to call your own when you retire and want to hang your boots up and not worry about eviction or bankruptcy.

Unlike many countries in the West, where the rents are so high that it is better to buy, we in India have it the other way round. The rents are not as crazy as the EMIs that you end up paying for a gazallion years - not unlike farmer's local loans in old Hindi films. Like in those farmers in the ultra-Left black and white films, the homeowner lives in the fear of eviction if - God forbid - a few EMIs are missed because of a loss of job or limbs. 

On the other hand, posh private banks that fall over themselves to graciously offer exorbitant amounts on a platter to mega-rich industrialists with almost zilch (if you consider the amount borrowed) collateral are not even interested in considering you although you have no intention of skipping the country using the same money that they gave you in all gullibility and glibness almost throwing it at you so that you can run and apply for a foreign citizenship thus, never paying even the amount borrowed forget the interest. 

Also, as it has happened with a lot of my friends, they bought a house in a city thinking of settling down happily ever after but, soon found themselves living far away in another city because, job and paying rent as well as EMI for the aforementioned house. 

The crux of the matter is that with no joint-family to fall back on and no fixed incomes due to 'safe' government jobs, buying a house on single income is almost as scary as volunteering to be a wanna-be knife thrower's assistant for a middle class person. 

Renting is a nightmare for single women who are often denied rentals because of their singlehood (for lack of a better expression). If she is a divorcee or a single mother then the stakes could be worse or none. Airhostesses and hotel staff or even call center employees who keep odd hours have it difficult too. 

Bringing in friends and even siblings to stay over is often looked upon with a frown and even prohibited.

Since our country has the second largest population in the world and considering that every 7th person in the world is an Indian I assume that all that is because the vigilantes don't want more kids to be born (tongue firmly in cheek) - at any cost because to be honest, even single men face the same firing squad when they go looking for a place to stay.

Anyhow, the truth is that I never stirred up courage to buy a house and as a result I pay rent every month for a shelter from where I can be evicted at a month's notice at any time and where I have to increase the rent after every 11 months - just like that - whoever came up with that clause had no idea what a disservice they were doing to the rental market. Today, spaces on rent command prices that have nothing to do with the situation that the property is in either in terms of maintenance or area it is situated in. As a renter you have no choice but to cough up whatever the "going rate" is and it gets worse for women because, they need some modicum of security where they live - hence more money.

Recently, I started wondering if this phenomenon was native to India or are there people across the world who were struggling with this problem.

I started looking up sustainable living ideas and budget homes on the Internet when I came across this whole world of Tiny Homes. It is a great concept and a tiny home does not always have to be trailer trucks. I have seen small houses that are built in as much square acreage as a two bedroom apartment but, built efficiently to allow it to have tonnes of natural light and fresh air. Some of them allow the owners the freedom of hooking their homes to a truck and move if their job moves or they want to go and try living in some other town!

What I found amazing was that it was a movement that is prevalent across the West and up to New Zealand but, bypasses Asia!

In India where shanty towns take up millions of acres of land and illegal constructions with no ventilation provide housing to millions of people with voting rights we need to look at the reason why it just does not suit those with vested interest to allow something like that to be taken up by the middle income group. 

When my sister had gone on a holiday to Europe some years back she came back pretty depressed because she realized that our so-called expensive flats were actually tiny compared to Western homes. It took me many days of taking her through our Colonial history and systematic plunder to pacify her but, her point remains that if we are paying through our noses for accommodations that are small and not even properly ventilated then why do we have to pay mega-bucks and enslave our entire working lives to own one.

And frankly after having seen the size of single bedroom apartments in Bombay, I think they are no better than glorified tiny homes and the same can be said of the Janta flats in Delhi.

Here, please don't start blaming the population. I have personally seen gigantic apartments in Gurgaon that are weekend homes for couples who live in Delhi. These houses are fully furnished and functional though seldom used. 

Also, the majority of the population that lives in super tiny rooms in Delhi and Bombay and in all other cities across the country has ration cards, Adhar Cards, Election Cards and live in illegal colonies that get 'free' electricity and water and please don't ask me how? We all know how.

Going by the fact that houses have been getting smaller and smaller by the year, I think, I don't mind retiring in a tiny house far away from the city lights and growing organic vegetables in the corrugated tin-enclosed backyard. 

Now consider people with farmhouses - which are no more legal than the slums - who are holding large tracts of land in what is now within the cities. They should be allowed to be cut off into small pieces and sold legally and only using white money. Same for the umpteen plots sitting for prices to rise in industrial areas - we all know how many of the 'offices' or 'factories' have fully running homes in the upper stories where families live lavishly defying every norm in the books.

It's about time Leo Tolstoy's story, "How much land does a man need?" After all, with all its propaganda of 'dumb' declarations of 'equal opportunity' socialism is not as 'demonically' against economic progress as capitalists would like us to believe. 

Why when the Republic of India that has millions of 'nationalists' staking claim to it cannot retrace its steps back and seek another bhoodaan movement? Why not fix land ceilings and usher in land reforms that are not mired in red tape? I say, why not make it an agenda and a reform to help everyone buy a home of their own and not just the "poorest of the poor" because, I am not saying free housing here but, affordable housing or low cost housing. Even sustainable living in communities. Why not seize assets of the unscrupulous builders who have run away or declared bankruptcy after collecting money for building flats and let those whose money they have usurped get a roof over their heads.

The answer to affordable homes is a transparent system that wants everyone to live safe from the huffing and puffing big bad wolf but, wait... Here I would like you to look up who are these builders, dig deep and check who holds the property business and I assure you that you will know why the people with "below the poverty line" cards and the super-rich industrialists will always be the beneficiaries of 'schemes' and 'deals' and why the tax-paying middle class will always have to enslave itself to put a roof over its bowed head.