Author: Rishi

The Tangential Line

~ Rishi ~ 1 Comment

A line is one of the most basic shapes in our life. And it’s straight.

Last I checked, straight still remains the shortest path between two points.

And yet, there’s this macabre pleasure people get in real life of forming lines which are tangential or don’t follow the rules of geometry.

As if, that tangent is an art form in itself. And the waviness of the line makes it more appealing!Sort of like , I will do this because I can.

But what about folks like me who like it straight?

I thought this phenomenon was restricted to India and parts of the developing world. But boy, was I wrong. Under duress, most people break! The line…

At Paris airport last weekend, I witnessed this first hand.

With a highly confusing design, the Paris airport is a study in itself. Transiting through it for the first time, I had expected it to be better organized. It wasn’t is an understatement.

Owing to multiple pathways and too many checkpoints, I saw people breaking lines everywhere. At the terminal interchange, at the passport control, at the bus boarding lines, and at the security gates.

Having to scamper through the length of the airport, within the short time span I had to catch my connecting flight back home, I first thought I will follow the rules as everyone does and will get through fast enough.

By the time I realized that wasn’t to be, there were already ten people who had overtaken me in trying to gain faster access. I had to cajole and request some of the airport staff, to make it just in time for my flight!

As I settled down into my seat, and relived my hour at the interchange, I heaved a sigh of relief. I was trained enough in the vagaries of India to find my way through that chaos.

Fresh from this dramatic experience, over this weekend, as we went to watch a movie, looking around, I felt that I needed those same instincts to get my tub of popcorn.

Thankfully, my straight common sense prevailed and I saved myself from going tangential…

Don’t let it be!

~ Rishi ~ Leave a comment

Ketan was sitting down in the balcony. Lost in his own thoughts.

His face was visibly unhappy and he was frowning every now and then. It appeared that he was alone.

At this age of his life, he was mostly homebound. That morning, his wife had gone to meet her friends and so he had no one to share the moment with.

Not that he didn’t like to go out. He went for his morning walks and for some other errands. But he didn’t like to go out during the busy hours, when everyone was rushing out.

He had lived his life and had retired to be in a peaceful state of mind. The last thing he wanted was to go out in the traffic when not in a good state of mind. So, he kept sitting and thinking.

About his kids, who were now in different cities and busy with their own lives. About his siblings, who had also retired in different towns and met only during some marriages or family functions. How there weren’t many friends around him.

This was the reason for his sadness. He was feeling lonely…

When he was working, he always thought he would have all the time in the world to do other things later on. Then, as he kept rising up the ladder, his life only became busier.

Before he could realise, he had lost touch with most folks from his home town. His friends. His extended family.

Then, when he retired, he had nowhere else to go. So, he remained in the place he had been in the last part of his working life. It was a good town, with warm people and some good friends. The only thing it lacked was folks from Ketan’s past.

As he sat in the balcony that day, he understood that the real reason for his sadness was that he was missing his old connections. After much brooding, he decided to change that.

He got up. Mustering courage, he called up his siblings. And promised to himself that he would talk to them more often.

Next, he called some of his old friends. They had a hearty laugh and he felt better. And he promised to himself that he would visit them at least once a year.

Lastly, he called his kids. He talked to them more often than everyone else, but told them that he would like to spend more time with them. They were obviously happy, and he promised to himself that he will book his tickets soon.

With all these promises made, he never realised it was evening. The bell rang. His wife was home.

He got up, opened the door, and before she could enter, hugged her tightly. For, she was there with him always, his constant companion! And he had promised to himself to take good care of her!

No Hangups

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It is so easy to say this. But so difficult to process and practice!

We adults struggle with this most of our life. There’s always something that bothers us so much that we get hung up about it.

Children, on the other hand, are amazing! They somehow have this gift of letting go. And not holding onto feelings for long.

They teach us so much…

This last week, there were a couple of instances which literally opened my eyes.

My nephew has been around our place for a month. Just six years old, the boy has had to contend with me, the disciplinarian. And while that’s not been easy, he has displayed good character being away from his parents.

One of the days, he got a good scolding from me. His natural reaction was to cry, and even after consoling him, he didn’t feel like talking to me. Eventually, he slept off without a chat.

I was feeling quite bad about it. I could have gone soft that one time. Or I could have tried harder to normalise the situation. Because he slept off without talking, I couldn’t sleep well.

The next morning, I woke up and he came over. I thought he would still be sad about the previous night. But he was absolutely normal!

I couldn’t believe it. But for him, it was as if nothing had happened. Or it was something he had taken in his stride and moved on.

I could not have…

In another instance, I saw my daughter getting distraught at him for something. She was pretty miffed and it seemed they wouldn’t play together that day. But after an hour, things had normalised and they were back to their usual selves.

As I reflected on this behavior, I realized that kids just live in the moment. Neither do they harbour any ill feelings, nor do they think too much about the past. It is we who teach them to do so.

Only to regret later that they should have remained the same all their life…

Content and Happy

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Seems a rarity! Specially, in today’s world.

This week, during a lunch time conversation with colleagues, we ended up talking about how our parents’ generation behaves. There was an interesting observation about how most of our parents are not as enamored by money as we seem to be. Still, they are quite content with what they have and are happy about their place in life.

Then, I watched a couple of movies where, the theme of struggle played out. How, even though everyone has some or the other struggle, only a few of us find happiness in that journey. And how happiness is what liberates us from feeling as if we are in a struggle.

These two aspects are in some ways related. Contentment leads to happiness, and when we feel happy we generally feel more content.

As I thought about these dense topics, I realized that there is no easy answer.

We all appreciate what contentment and happiness looks like and feels like. We have examples in front of us, in our families or known circles. We too want it for ourselves.

On the other hand, we also know that we are trapped in the vagaries of life. We go through different kinds of struggles. We try our best but also fail in our endeavors sometimes.

So, if we understand what contentment and happiness can do for us, why is it that we still end up being discontent and unhappy? Or is it usual that our goal posts shift once we get to the point we were aiming for?

Should we just strive for that ultimate feeling? Or should we enjoy those micro moments when we get that fleeting sense?

Perhaps, it is a mixture. We try finding contentment and happiness always but experience it sometimes. We come out on top from a struggle and feel good about ourselves, to be shown the floor the next time.

Maybe, that’s what life is. Jostling between what we want and what we have; oscillating between these feelings. Or maybe, there is an unrevealed mantra to seek contentment and happiness forever.

What I am sure of is it doesn’t lie in just the hustle. It is at the intersection of purpose and effort, combined with self-awareness of having found the way out through that maze called life!

Narratives

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“A spoken or written account of connected events”.

It’s what we tell ourselves and sell to the outside world. It’s how we are viewed or perceived. It’s how we co-opt ourselves into the world we want to be a part of.

It’s, however, an often misused and misunderstood term!

Last few weeks, these thoughts kept coming back to me. Only because I started paying more attention to how people around me are coming across. Including myself.

What I noticed was conflicting. Both for myself and for others.

We often try to come across as someone we are not. Or we build a story around ourselves to suit what we want to tell.

What if, instead, we chose to be our authentic selves? Would people around us stop accepting us?

And if so, are those the right people to be around us? Or are we merely the product of our choices and limited by what we already chose?

As these thoughts ran in my subconsciousness, I reflected back on my own behavior and choices. What I found wasn’t surprising.

When I chose to be my authentic self, I grew the most and was the happiest. The friendships I built in those days are strong. The bonds I cemented have lasted the test of time.

In those periods or moments when I waivered to subscribe to a narrative I didn’t feel natural with, I suffered. My relationships and friendships suffered too. That suffering wasn’t however evident to me while in that moment.

The funny thing is, even though I know this, it is difficult to not fall into that trap again. As a social animal, I am bound to get influenced. And bound to get disappointed again.

Maybe, the trick is to break the fall by doing a reality check frequently. Or when the narrative is changing.

Who said breaking the pattern is easy!!!

Values and Principles

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…and the price we must pay for them.

Didn’t want to end up with such a big title but that’s what this post is about.

Most of us have some values and principles that we hold dear and are ready to go to any lengths to uphold. Yet, many a times, we don’t realize that there is a price to it, something we may need to pay for.

Today morning, I was faced with a similar situation at home. Having decided that I will stick with the principle I held important, I had to then forgo my morning sleep to finish some household work.

At first, I was irritated. I had stretched the previous night, watching a movie. And had plans to sleep till slightly later in the day. But as the principle was dear, I got up.

Then, as I was going through the motions and getting the work done, it sink in that I was doing this out of choice and not because of a compulsion. I could have chosen to step back from my principle and taken the easy route. But I didn’t. Because I didn’t want to.

As that feeling sunk in, it actually made me feel much better than I had anticipated. Suddenly, I started seeing the brighter side of life and decided to make the most of the day.

I spent time finishing my exercise routine in the morning, had some good conversations at home while eating, read up on a few pending articles that had been open on my iPad for a while, thought about a new story idea to pursue, and found time to play a board game.

As the day is drawing to a close, I have a feeling of having accomplished something.

Of having turned around the situation which had started with a negative thought into a positive day and outcome for me and the family.

Of having spent time doing things which made me happy. And thinking through on a couple of nice ideas.

And above all, of having stood by my principle and then taking care of the fallout without any fuss.

There are only some days like this and they come about once in a while but leave us enriched for a longer time!

Backseat Driving

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It’s surprisingly vicarious! Does it help, though?

I have been driving around for all my adult life. As soon as I turned 18, with the help of my dad, I learnt to drive a car.

It was fascinating. To drive around and control a machine as sophisticated as a car. Something more than 2 wheels.

With time, I became more and more adept at it. I drove for long stretches and started appreciating the mechanics of good driving vs bad.

Over the years, this skill has only honed, what with the massive increase in the magnitude of traffic in Bangalore.

However, owing to family’s (read my wife’s) suggestion, we now also have a driver. For everyday commutes to our offices and other errands.

It is actually relaxing to not grapple with traffic every day during the rush hour. It’s also frustrating, with the natural tendencies I have as a driver.

Often times, when I am not caught up in my thoughts or doing something else, my eyes are on the road and judging how the driver is driving. Many a times, I offer him suggestions from the backseat.

Surely, not a great way to delegate work. Poor chap, he takes it mostly without any objection. Perhaps, he doesn’t want to show his displeasure at my behaviour?

Having noticed this for a while, I am actively trying to curb it. Letting him drive, focusing on utilizing my time sitting idle.

But it’s not easy. I have to make an effort. Trusting him to do his job. Well. Not offering any suggestions until asked for guidance.

And when there’s an urge, learning to suppress it for the sake of my own peace of mind. Instead, observing and learning from what others around me do, so that I can do better when I am behind the wheel.

But old habits die hard. Today morning, tossing the keys to my wife, as I sat besides her, I resolved not to do much.

As you can guess, five minutes into the drive, I had heard a couple of stern warnings to be a good passenger…

#TheBestParent

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We all want to be one. It’s almost like a badge of honour to be declared “The Best Dad” or “The Best Mom”.

We still falter. In some way or the other. And end up with a literal sob story.

What is it about parenting that is so complex? Last couple of weeks, I have grappled with this question.

My daughter, for the record, believes I am doing better than before. Yet, there are times when I am sure she wonders if everything is alright with me!

We both, father and daughter, have our highs. We agree on most things, give each other space to express ourselves, and respect the other’s opinions. When those moments pass by, I am left wondering how did we manage it.

We obviously have our lows. Which usually end up in I getting frustrated or angry, and she getting sad or upset. They happen randomly at times and almost seem orchestrated on other occasions, leaving us baffled about what just happened.

With a growing kid, it’s always a struggle to achieve these highs. It was far easier when she was younger, would just look up to us before doing anything. Now she has her own opinions and sometimes we end up clashing.

Back to the question: as I reflected on the last year or so of my behaviour, I realised that the root cause of the complexity stems from the fact that I have lived my life with a different framework than what is needed today.

It is easier to say this than to change myself or to adapt to changes I am expected to consider normal. After all, the frameworks I have were built a couple of decades ago!

What worked then doesn’t work now. So, we are constantly working on changing the paradigm and our frameworks. But this change takes time.

On the other hand, our kid’s expectations from his or her parents keep on evolving. Every few weeks.

And then, when we haven’t changed enough or are barely getting to the agreed upon expectations off us, the kid’s expectations have moved on. Goading us to catch up.

On some days, we win over this change or at least manage to overcome the chasm. That day we are the best parent.

On the other days, well…

Childhood Friends!

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This weekend was special, spent with my first and closest friend from my childhood days.

Special not only because meeting a childhood friend is precious. But also because we met after a longish gap. Last few years were lost to Covid and then my US stint.

Much water passed under the bridge in those years. We grew a few more strands of grey, our children became older, and our parents younger in spirit!

Even then, what was unmistaken was our bonding. We still got each other instantly. It didn’t feel like we were meeting after so long.

We were aided by the comfort of spending time with each other without hurry. It didn’t feel rushed because it wasn’t just for a few hours. We were staying in the same house, with our families, doing things together.

Those are the best things that I cherish about all of my childhood friendships. The bonds, the comfort, the trust, and the ease of being around.

It doesn’t feel shaky ever. Even if we don’t meet often.

It doesn’t feel difficult to continue being in touch. Even if we haven’t talked on the phone for a while.

It doesn’t feel that we have moved apart. Even though we have come a long way.

And it doesn’t ever feel like effort. Seems like our own self.

Sometimes I think if someone had told me all of these things when I was growing up, I could have formed more such friendships.

Then, I realize that I am lucky I have a few of these friendships from my school and college days still going strong.

Thankfully!!!

Lost in Translation

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Aamir was excited. It was his grandparent’s first visit to the US.

His parents had migrated to the US when he was six years old and he had grown up in the developed world.

They had travelled to India in the last five years only once, for a short trip. His grandparents had never been outside India and ran into some visa issues, which prevented them from coming over earlier.

As their arrival inched closer, his anticipation grew. He had some fond memories of spending his early years with them, while still in India. And while they had kept in touch through video calls, most of those conversations were for a few minutes only.

He planned for their trip with much anticipation. There were quite a few places he wanted to take them around to. And wanted them to meet his friends.

The day they landed, he made sure to finish all his homework and be ready for receiving them. When he first saw them, he ran over and hugged them. They were also elated to see him and held him close.

Over the next couple of days, as their jet lag veered off, Aamir got more time with them. He realised that while they were fine with talking in English for short sentences, they weren’t very comfortable.

He had barely used his mother tongue, Hindi, over the last few years! Even at home, his parents hadn’t bothered talking in Hindi and so, he had lost touch with the language.

This fact troubled him. It wasn’t just that he couldn’t talk to his grandparents fluently but also because most conversations had no meaning without either of them understanding the other well.

At first, Aamir withdrew into a shell. He deliberately avoided long chats, instead using short words or signals and head nods. It got him past most things and was the easier way out.

A week into the practice however, he realized that this wasn’t going to help him. It would also reduce the joy his grandparents would experience. Resolving to remedy the situation, he hit upon an idea.

The next day, as he woke up, he loaded a translation app and started using it to frame questions and replies for his chats with them. At first, it was awkward. But then, observing that his grandparents were visibly happier talking to him, he persisted.

He also requested them to help him with common words and phrases, and to teach him in his spare time. With the help of the app and his grandparents, things became much fluent and simple.

Over the next few weeks, as his grandparents’ trip progressed, Aamir executed his planned itinerary for them. He became their local guide and also took them around to meet with his friends, acting like a translator for those small chats.

By the time his grandparents left, Aamir had earned two things. Pride of his grandparents and a small vocabulary of Hindi words to use when needed…