Labour of Love…

There are passion projects. And then there is labour of love.

Something that is not just pursued only because you’re passionate about it but also because you want to see it come to life in the best way possible!

This weekend, as we stepped into our own home, this feeling stuck with me.

We had been at it for the last three months. Countless discussions, innumerable iterations, and a few sleepless nights later, here we were. Standing on the front door, ready to enter after the rituals got over.

I looked at my wife. It was her labour of love.

She had given it her all. Despite a very busy schedule at work and the madness around our household.

She hadn’t complained once and had patiently kept at it. Selecting materials, finalising designs, negotiating prices, navigating deadlines, and maybe a few things I couldn’t notice!

Ready to enter the new abode, she was awash with a certain calmness and pride.

In getting past everything and in how the vision had come to life.

In acknowleding that her unwavering commitment to getting what she wanted for the place had somehow serendipitously been rewarded.

And in accepting the fact that it was finally over…

There are yet many things to accomplish, as we move in and settle down. But hopefully those will involve less efforts and commitment for the same satisfaction…

Disagreements…

Father and daughter disagreements are common in our home. There are quite a few petty things that we both don’t agree with each other on and argue about!

Like, how much time can one watch television. Or when is the right time to sleep. These are fun.

Then, there are the more serious ones. Like, how much should one eat. Or how much should be individual contributions to household chores.

And finally, there are the critical ones. Like, which colour combinations to wear or not. Or how much time can be spent outside home in play.

Which of these happen at what time of the day is a compeltely random phenomenon. It could be triggered by an event like getting back from school or getting back home after play. Or could be triggered while we are sitting together and spending time doing something…

Whenever we have one of these disagreements and an eventual argument, I think I am right but maybe my daughter has a point. My daughter thinks she is right but maybe there’s something I am stating that may be important. And both of us believe this completely.

During the peak of the argument, it seems like we may stick to our individual stance. However, most of the arguments end with one of us agreeing to the other’s point of view because we started with the belief that maybe the other person has a point of view that is right!

Sometimes those conclusions are reached amicably. Sometimes there is a struggle and after much pulls and pressures, one of us bows down. And then, there are a few times, when we agree to disagree and move on to deal with other stuff.

In either case, these disagreements rarely lead us to a place where we don’t talk to each other. Even when we agree to disagree, there’s reconciliation by way of hugs, kisses, or holding hands.

And while it doesn’t take us long to get into another disagreement, we rarely get into an argument about the same thing the same day. Unless, of course the trigger event recurs. Which is, quite possible!!

Eventually, these situations are making us tougher. To continue disagreeing with each other with respect for the other’s ideas. And with the tacit understanding that an argument is just that, an argument…

I have arrived!!

What makes us think that? And is it really ever true?

This last week, I was incessantly scrolling my Google app feed. There were a lot of articles related to financial advise, probably owing to my recent searches to identify certain investment decisions and taxation.

As I went through some of those articles, I ended up reading a detailed review of the data on income distribution in India and the US and how that’s becoming more lopsided over the years.

Consuming the laid out information, my mind went to how do I fare in these distribution models. As an individual and as a household.

I quickly began to think about what it means to lie in the top x% of the population and how we associate our success to how we have moved up that ladder through our lives. Except for maybe a few who were born with a silver spoon!

Figuring the progress from the start point felt like a self congratulatory realization. A pat on my back for what I have been able to achieve till now. Good while it lasted.

But as my mind raced in that direction, the next question that occurred to me was what was a target to seek? Am I happy with where I am or do I need to strive for more? And where to draw the line of satisfaction?

Thinking deeper, I also came to terms that financial success couldn’t be the only metric on which I can decide whether I have arrived or not…

There are many things that make up my life and existence. And while money is an important aspect of it, it’s not the only one in that list.

My relationships and my association with my family and friends is critical to my functioning. My health is important for me. The contribution of my work to a bigger cause matters to me.

So, while I may associate my success momentarily with how much money I make or what’s my net worth; but in the scheme of life, all those other things matter almost as much as money.

The only difference is that money is probably the easiest to quantify and hence the most exciting of the lot. Their value and importance in life only comes to the fore when there’s something specific happening.

That, however, shouldn’t be so. A good reminder to myself…

Native connection

I am a big proponent of using our native languages in regular settings. It’s a big part of our culture. And identity.

There have been quite a few discussions at the workplace and at home, where I have taken the side of the native language.

I feel it is incumbent upon each one of us, as an inheritor of our rich culture(s) and traditions, to embed them into our daily lives. So that we carry on with the torch before passing it to the next generation.

Naturally, we have enrolled our daughter to learn Hindi as the additional language of choice at the school. It’s one way to provide her a structured environment to grasp the details.

This week, when we visited her school for a parents-teachers meet, I expected her Hindi teacher to talk to us about how we should encourage her to do more in Hindi. She did that but she also talked about another important aspect that stuck with me.

She talked about how through our native language children connect with their roots and how it shapes their association with the family, especially as they grow through teenage into adulthood.

While I was quite impressed by what she said and how she did so, what stuck me more was that our mother tongue forms a core part of our identity.

As I looked back at my own childhood and teenage, I realised that my tryst with Hindi, the times spent listening to stories from my grandmother, reading Hindi comic books, the countless fun conversations we had around the house in our mother tongue, all of them helped shape me.

More importantly, they connected me to my roots. To my family. And that has stayed with me all my life.

I don’t feel the same level of connectedness when I talk in English today. Not that I consider English to be a second grade citizen, but it doesn’t have the same effect. It feels neutral.

I know it’s not easy. The environment today around us in Indian cities is geared towards English. Our kids have multi-cultural influences and friends, and therefore English becomes the common ground to connect.

But if I don’t make the effort, at least at home, to use our mother tongue, the native connection that I built with my roots may not happen with my daughter.

So while I do want her to be fluent in English and be ready for the future, I also want her to be connected to her roots, natively…

Life’s a race…

Life’s a race. That’s what most of us have been taught or are made to understand during our early adulthood years.

But what if it wasn’t? What if it was meant to be lived on our own terms, without any race to prove ourselves to anyone?

What if it was just us living life on our own terms? And taking things as they come?

I think there is merit in this thought.

I have been on both sides of the fence and when I have done things on my own terms, the results have always elated me. On the other hand, when I have run someone else’s race or in a direction I wasn’t sure of, I have mostly faltered.

Another thing I have noticed is when I have taken my time and space to do things, I have done a much better job at it than when I was out on a deadline or trying to impress someone.

Does that mean we live life in a dull manner? Or don’t ever hustle? I don’t think so and definitely don’t mean so.

What I believe is that we should be the decision maker of our own destiny. If that means walking slow at times, so be it. If that means doing things contrary to popular perception or wisdom, so be it.

And if that in turn results in a tougher life, so be it. After all, that’s the challenge we chose to accept…

Lonely.

Living alone isn’t something that I desire for. But there are times when I have to do that for a period of time, and it is never easy…

The last two weeks, I was away on a work trip. Traveling away from the family, it was my usual routine. The only difference – I didn’t have anyone to meet during the weekend. I had not planned anything. And I was all alone.

I had things to do. There were quite a few items on the shared shopping list with wifey! But that amounted to chores – you have to do it because you have to do it. Even if there are some fun moments, it feels like a chore.

Once I was done with the shopping and the ensuing walks around the city, I was left with a lot of time to kill. I went to the theatre and whiled away some time. But there still was half a day left and I didn’t have anyone to catch up with!

I just decided to pass that remaining time of the weekend on my own. Tucked away in my bed, I read a book and then watched a few episodes of a new TV series.

But all of that only made me more miserable. I had not met a friend or family member throughout those two days and it wasn’t a great feeling.

So, the next day, as I walked into the office and spent time with some colleagues, it was extremely relieving. I also had some office meetings, so it was a great way to catch up with others.

Doing all of this reminded me that I crave companionship. When I don’t meet with enough people for a stretch of time, it sucks energy from me. It is as if I draw energy from others!

Maybe, I am a by-product of the times I have lived in, yearning for a good conversation and familiar faces. Maybe, it’s just my way of taking solace in the known. Or maybe, it is an affliction that makes me better.

Whatever it is, I resolved that moving forward, I will avoid going through such unplanned and lonely time spans. As much as I can…

That empty feeling

I was standing in the corridor, stuck on my feet!

While my friends were walking away towards the after party, I felt stuck. The event was over.

It was the early months of 2009. Peak of global recession, in the aftermath of which, most people were still smarting about what turns life will take.

We all, having joined our MBA just post the Lehman Brothers collapse, were gingerly going through the paces.

However, as was our wont, we couldn’t just accept things to meander. We needed to take some control of the situation. Make some noise about ourselves.

In a country like Singapore, where you’re not a big brand, you need to figure out creative ways to do stuff.

So, we decided to organize our first inter-college fest. It was a tried and tested method to do something inclusive and network effectively, and we decided to give it a shot.

A small committee of students was formed, with I leading it. Our role was to figure out the entire program, engage with other colleges, and run the show. Pretty much everything.

We of course had some assistance from our professors and administrators, and from the larger group. But that group of 5-6 students did the heavy lifting.

As we got to the deep end, alongside our classes and the numerous tests, it wasn’t easy. We had to scramble on many fronts.

But so we did. We came out as a team and did ourselves proud. Everything started falling into place.

Eventually, we managed to get things done with a good turnout. Participation from other colleges, well organized events, fun banter, good food to go around.

As that day drew to a close, I felt a lump building in my throat. I had breathed at this frenetic pace and lived the moment for so long, that seeing it all come toward a close, my mind didn’t know what next to do.

So, as others walked toward the after party, I felt rooted to my place, smiling from the outside but feeling an emptiness inside.

A few of my friends noticed and asked me to join, I waved to them as if I was going to follow. But I didn’t. I couldn’t.

I just needed to be by myself. To feel that emptiness and relish the memories.

I wept in the open air. It was as if a chapter of my life had closed.

Later, the next morning, as I woke up, I realized that the heady feeling of the last few days was gone. It was replaced by a question – will I get to experience something similar again!

Rewinding the clock

It all began a decade ago. I was holding you in my arms for the first time.

It was such an overwhelming moment for me that I couldn’t help but cry. To memorialize that moment, I even wrote down a post.

This year, you turn 10! You arenow on the cusp of teenage.

These ten years seem to have gone by with a lot of fun and emotional moments with you, but also a few filled with guilt and remorse.

There have been times when we have wondered when will you grow up. And then a lot of times when we realize that once you grow up, we will miss the days we have lived through your childhood.

At this decadal juncture, I thought it’s a good milestone for me to reflect back on how I have done as a parent. And what would I do differently if I went back ten years. So, here are some things I would like to change.

I should have been more expressive. About my love for you. I say it often but not enough times. I have subconsciously thought of it as an evident phenomenon but it needs to be reinforced more than I think.

I should have been more patient. With you. And with myself. There have been times my impatience has led me to actions that I have instantly regretted. An angry moment, an unnecessary scolding. Some of those could have definitely been avoided.

I should have been more sensitive. In trying to get you to be disciplined, I have sometimes jumped the gun and forced the matter. I should have handled those moments with a lot more maturity.

I should have assumed more ignorance. Even on things I know enough about. Because, the joy of discovery and exploration is unbridled. And I, as your father, ought to nurture it at all times and give you more chances than I probably gave.

I should have been more specific. About my intentions in a given situation. Sometimes, I have come across as overbearing, without realizing that my intention isn’t clear to you and instead, has hurt or irritated you.

There are many more, I am sure.

Although the time that’s gone by, won’t return. Those deeds and memories I can never forget. But the times to come, can change.

So, dear daughter, when you do read this, now or later, remember that your dad is trying his best to be good at this parenting stuff. It’s my first time doing this.

What I ask of you is to hold me to these commitments for the next ten years. And the next, and the next…

Connecting the dots.

Steve Jobs famously mentioned these words during his address to a graduating class at Stanford.

Watching him orate his experiences and how they helped him in his life have been an inspiration for me.

Primarily because it spoke of how nothing in life is ever wasted. Even a small experience can at some point in time light a spark to take things forward!

As time has passed, I have also come to appreciate that all of us are wired differently and connect dots differently. So even though we may have shared experiences with others, the way we perceive and recall them are different.

This weekend, as I took a couple of days off and spent time reflecting on a few things, I realised this point again.

I was thinking of the various things I have done in my life till this point. And which of those have given me joy, made me learn, and pushed me forward.

Sifting through those memories, I could see some of them connected with each other in ways I had not thought of before.

Maybe, my perspective has matured. Or changed. Or perhaps, it’s just that those dots weren’t connected before in my mind, but now are.

Anyways, I am happy to have connected those dots. For they spoke of paths I am uniquely privileged to have been on.

As I reflected back on this time spent in solitude, I couldn’t have chosen a better time. I had not done this over the past couple of years and needed this reconnection with self.

Not to mention, the calm around me also helped heal the general overload from always ‘doing’ something…

Values and Principles

…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!