Values and Principles

~ Rishi ~ Leave a comment

…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

~ Rishi ~ Leave a comment

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

~ Rishi ~ Leave a comment

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!

~ Rishi ~ Leave a comment

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

~ Rishi ~ Leave a comment

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…

Dance on…

~ Rishi ~ Leave a comment

It’s strange how we sometimes open up to the world!

In the first twenty five years of my life, I always saw my mom as a serious and devoted person. Always very conscious of herself and her surroundings.

She would always want to ensure she was at her best in whatever she did. But what others think of her mattered a lot to her. So her behaviour, when in public, was in some form and shape guarded.

Then, as me and my brother settled down into a life of our own during college days, I saw her get out of her focused shell that was built around us. She started doing a few more things freely.

Later, as life progressed, the instances when she would prioritize herself went up. We started seeing her less worried about others.

Over the last ten odd years, I have observed how she has come out of that cocoon. And be herself more often.

The most surprising thing about it is the form she has chosen. Dance!

I never thought she was interested in dancing earlier. But over the last few years, that has given her a chance to express herself and do it with a feeling of abandon that I hadn’t experienced.

Today, as she performed at a cousin’s wedding, in the middle of some great performers, she held onto her own. And delivered an amazing rendition of a popular song. With just a couple of hours of practice!

I am still stunned. Both because she was able to pull this off and because I could sense that she was really enjoying performing.

As I mentally saluted her and appreciated her dance in person, I couldn’t help but think about some of those things that I am living with, not yet able to express myself as freely on those aspects.

Maybe, another post on those some other time…

Being Grateful

~ Rishi ~ Leave a comment

Being grateful is often something we talk about. How it’s an important aspect of leading a happy life.

And yet it is so difficult to feel that way constantly!

This weekend, I was speaking to my daughter about how wonderful a life she has and how she should be grateful about it.

While discussing the subject with her, I was telling her to look at the bright side of life always. As I gave her some examples of things she has, which others don’t, I realised the same holds true for me also.

Then, as the conversation progressed, and I was telling her about the numerous problems in the world and how we should be thankful that we are relatively better off, it occurred to me that this was applicable for me too.

Finally, we chatted about the notion of positivity and negativity, and how it is upon us to look at the bright side of things and lead a happy life. While she nodded, I felt like nodding too, to acknowledge this in my heart.

As she agreed with my reasoning and to keep these perspectives in mind, I couldn’t help but remember how I had had a similar conversation when I was young.

And then in a few years I had to be reminded of them again. Not because I had forgotten but because I had chosen to not remember.

It happens again and again. Every few months, I have to keep reminding myself of these truths.

Something so simple but so difficult to follow…

Retired…

~ Rishi ~ Leave a comment

When I was 30, I thought I should do something so good that I should be able to retire at 40! Then, life happened…

I dived into my own business, tried my best to scale it and then when it didn’t work, finally decided to close it down.

It’s been ten years since then, and almost fifteen since I had that first feeling of retiring at 40. I am beyond 40 now.

And I feel, it is better I didn’t succeed in my mission then!

I will come back to this and explain in a bit. But first, a slight detour.

This week, one of my army batchmates took voluntary retirement. After serving the minimum mandatory twenty years. He had a good run and decided to move on to do something new and more interesting for him.

I and a couple of other batchmates posted in Bangalore got together to celebrate his retirement. During the party, we talked about life after retirement. My biggest observation – all of us are planning to do something post retiring.

As I came back home post the party, I was thinking of my father, uncles, and a few other elders I know. Most of them took to doing something even after they retired.

I remember, when I had naively asked one of my uncles about why he continued to work still, he told me it’s better to continue doing than sitting.

I didn’t understand it then but I do now. Because retirement is hard.

It is difficult to just sit around and not do much. It is also not the best use of time when most of us have about twenty or so years post retiring to fill our lives with.

Coming back to my statement about being happy failing at my mission to retire at 40, I think it taught me innumerable lessons. But most importantly it allowed me to view life as a large continuum, a marathon, and not a sprint.

I realized there’s more to life than just earning enough money and putting your feet up.

Well, I still want to earn enough money. But not to put my feet up. Rather, to do things I would have the freedom to try. And not having to worry about failures or getting into a tight situation.

I don’t know if it makes sense to you. To me, it does…

Relieved.

~ Rishi ~ Leave a comment

Fatima was sitting down, holding the side of the bed. The same bed where her beloved husband of over forty years, Zafar was lying still, never to get up again.

She kept sitting in that position for a good hour or so. Re-living all the memories of their past.

Theirs was an arranged marriage. But they had fallen in love with each other soon after meeting for the first time, and then multiple times over those forty odd years. It was a match made in heaven!

Over the years, as they fulfilled their familial responsibilities, they had built a beautiful home for themselves. They had a daughter, married and happily settled close by in the same city. Their son-in-law was a gentleman, ensuring that he prioritized their well being in all cases.

They had grown old together and especially after Zafar’s retirement from the bank, had established a daily routine to spend more time together. Morning walks, long sittings over crossword puzzles and old film music, evening tea with friends from the neighbourhood, and their love for movies kept them busy. Their daughter and son-in-law would come over on the weekends and sometimes they would all go out for a meal. Life was going on in a fulfilling fashion.

Then, soon after his sixty-fifth birthday, Zafar started complaining of some headaches. He was a health conscious man, so without taking any risks, he consulted the doctors. And as unfortunate it could be for the family, he was diagnosed with an extremely rare condition which was causing tension in his brain’s blood vessels.

It wasn’t a very good sign and the doctors told him that he could either get operated or otherwise had little time left. The chances of success were low and they were non-commital about the after effects of the surgery.

Zafar had seen his father pass away after a prolonged cancer and knew that his case could end up with he being bed-ridden for the rest of his life. While the doctors were suggesting surgery, he also knew that post-surgery recovery would be prolonged and may not even happen. He didn’t want to be left in a vegetative state towards the end of his life.

He consulted another doctor in a different hospital and the findings were the same. The doctor confirmed that there was a low chance of success. He did tell him that in case the surgery doesn’t succeed, he could be much worse-off.

That evening, Zafar had sat Fatima down and explained to her the second opinion. She already knew about the health condition, so had started preparing herself mentally for anything. When Zafar told her that he had decided to let things play out naturally and not go for an uncertain surgery, she wasn’t surprised. After all, he had taken many unemotional but necessary calls during his lifetime and was doing the same at this juncture.

Their daughter and son-in-law did try to persuade Zafar otherwise but he saw no good reason to put the entire family through an ordeal no one understood, including the doctors. Convinced that he could not be moved, the family decided to make his remaining time as good as it could be.

The routines thus resumed. No one around him was told of his condition, so that they behaved normally with him. Only the family knew, and they kept it at the back of their mind, but without showing off their emotions, continued to live normally.

It was hard for Fatima. Knowing that she could soon be staring at life without him. She ensured that from that day onwards, she wouldn’t leave him for long. And over the next couple of years, she spent as much time as she could, soaking in all that she could with Zafar.

He had not shown much but she knew how painful those last few months had been. And how he had continued to live his life normally, ignoring it.

That day, as she got up after her afternoon siesta, she saw Zafar wasn’t moving. He lay still. She sat down beside him and checked. He was gone.

All those years of togetherness were over. He would be around no more. She would just have his memories to carry along.

She was crying. But it wasn’t just because she had lost him. It was also because he had been relieved! He had embraced death and death had come slowly, allowing her to hoard as many memories as she could have…

Pain Tolerance

~ Rishi ~ Leave a comment

How much pain can we tolerate? Literally. In both our mind and our body.

Having suffered a serious injury that led to leaving the armed forces, and having gone through other health issues, this is not just a figurative question. It is a personal one.

Every time something happens to me, my pain tolerance behaviour kicks in. At times I take things in stride and go on without worrying. But at times, it makes me avoid anything that could cause more discomfort.

It is interesting because my mind behaves randomly on the same topic. Strange too.

This Friday, as I took a flight back home and landed with not just a jet lag but a muscle spasm around my shoulder, my mind started to work. It told me to take things easy. So, I have been. Applying ointments and eating painkillers while avoiding any strenuous activity.

What if I had something urgent to attend to at home? I am sure, my mind would have told me to forget about all the pain and instead focus on the urgent matter. I may have still needed the ointments and painkillers but those would have been taken to continue.

Reflecting on this behaviour, I was wondering why is it so? Is it normal? Is it something only I go through? Or am I being unnecessarily paranoid over something not worth its while?

My reflections led me to my earlier experiences when I had either taken heed of my mind and succumbed to the inactivity or when I had pushed the discomfort aside to focus on other important things.

What I realised is that it is all dependent on the motive. Do I have something on my hands which I am so engaged in that nothing else matters? Am I so charged up that a niggle doesn’t bother me?

If I don’t have a strong reason, my mind tends to take things easy; almost as if it is telling me not to bother because there’s nothing more important than myself. Well, that isn’t completely untrue! But it also cannot be true every time because then I wouldn’t be able to grow.

Perhaps the balance is in allowing the mind to let the body slack a bit when needed. After all, the mind and the body know better than us. Interspersed with elongated periods of acute focus and activity when nothing else matters. Something that has worked for me in the recent past.

Again, not generally applicable, but maybe it is a good practice to check on where we are in life when such a signal comes. What do we do in those moments could very well define how much fuel power we have to persevere and continue running.

Because while life is short, it is long enough to play in the balance…