Memories

Reliving a lived experience.

~ Rishi ~ Leave a comment

There are moments in life which we relish and often remember. In the hope that we could relive them again or at least feel the same way again.

And then there are experiences which shape us. They may not necessarily be in the earlier category but are important to us as an individual.

This last week, I had an opportunity to relive a lived experience, one that fundamentally shaped me.

It was a visit to the Indian Military Academy, which I graduated from more than two decades ago. Those were the most formative years in my life, joining the Academy as an eighteen year old.

Thanks to a course mate, who was able to get a tour arranged, I visited the institution along with my family. As the assigned staff member took us around, I recounted some of my experiences to my wife and our daughter.

It was poignant to walk the same corridors once again. Now as a civilian, but with the same proud feeling of being able to walk there.

It was nostalgic to visit the rooms and stand in the same place I spent countless days in. And feel a little bit of what I went through in those days.

It was reliving memories filled with bitter sweet moments as I saw other parts of the academy. The playgrounds, the practice areas, the places I used to go past every day.

It was a reminder of how much things have evolved. The staff member was kind enough to detail how many things had changed from those days to now, and we compared them with what we used to do. They ought to be, in two decades.

It was fun to recall some of my experiences and share them with my family, as we zipped past some of the best and worst memories of the days lived there.

Finally, as we completed the tour and bid farewell to the staff member, driving out on the main road, I felt a tinge of sadness within myself. For the entire tour had ended in a couple of hours and my journey of reliving the lived experiences had ended.

I was overwhelmed thinking about how much time had passed since those days. At the same time, I was thankful that I got this opportunity.

Enough for me to carry fresh impressions of my days spent in that place so many years ago…

Toddler days…

~ Rishi ~ Leave a comment

There is a child within all of us. I have heard it often but got reminded about it quite strongly this week…

The last time I had a toddler in my arms was when I spent time with my niece earlier this year. But as it was during my cousin’s wedding, those moments came and went, not completely registering themselves.

This week however the experience was more absolute. We had my brother-in-law and his family over for a few days. His younger son, all of fifteen months, was the center of attraction.

I was meeting him for the second time. The first one was for a short while and he hadn’t started walking then. This time however, he was raring to go.

Having adjusted to the surroundings quickly, he was on the lookout for fun. And I, eager to make friends with him, started playing along. The next three days, as he spent time with us, I grabbed a lot of opportunities to become a child again.

It was amazing. Doing things not worrying about how it looked. Talking in a childish accent or playing kids games with him felt normal. And liberating!

It reminded me of the days I spent with my daughter when she was younger. How I would spend time with her doing things which only made sense to the two of us. How we would find joy in little things, not worried about others in the world around us.

It also reminded me of my own early childhood days. I don’t remember a whole lot of those moments but whenever I hear anecdotes about my childhood, those days feature prominently. Perhaps a reflection of how the memories of early days of our kids get imprinted in our minds.

My daughter, observing the fun I was having, commented that she wished I could be so with her too now. Her feelings touched me deep inside and brought out my guilt.

That guilt prompted a number of discussions around the memories we had when she was younger. Leaving us all laughing and reliving those days.

While I was able to assure her that I was as playful with her as she was observing me being, I also realised that in the flow of life, I have probably become too drab with her generally.

Time for me to change then. She is all of ten, so I still have time to do a lot of fun things with her. And hopefully create many more fun memories for her and us to relive later in life…

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…

Nostalgia and Guilt

~ Rishi ~ 1 Comment

There are many a times we suffer from nostalgia, when we recount the days passed by. Either with friends or family or in a particular setting.

There are also things that we have done or decisions we have taken, which at some point in time come back to us and result in guilt.

This past week, as I landed in the Bay Area and spent a few days in Foster city, these two feelings hit me simultaneously.

We spent a year and a half in this place, before we moved back to India 6 months back…

When I had booked the trip, I planned to stay in the vicinity of the office and some other folks I wanted to meet. So, foster city was a natural choice.

It didn’t occur to me much until later, when a colleague asked me if I will feel nostalgic upon my return. Even then, I brushed it off, thinking it will be fine.

However, I was surprised by the intensity of the feeling. It’s been six months but as I walked around the same paths I used to pass by and went around some landmarks we used to visit or our life revolved around, it felt like those days were flashing past me.

I and my wife going for a walk. Our daughter going into the school or we picking her back. A couple of supermarkets we used to go to quite often. A couple of restaurants we frequented.

The list could go on. But you get it. There was heavy nostalgia in revisiting those recent memories. And a heavier sense of guilt!

Guilt because, it was our choice to move back. And for having pushed the family out of this setting.

I lived with questions for a couple of days…

Did I take a hasty decision? Should we have stayed here longer, perhaps we would have found more friends and a life! Why did I give in so easily and not fight it out?

Those couple of days were spent in a lot of self introspection and questioning myself.

Then, as I was reflecting on my days passed by and recounting to a friend what we have been up to ever since going back to India, it struck me.

It may have been a decision taken too soon. But it wasn’t in haste.

We would have definitely found more friends here, but we have so many in Bangalore. And a lot more family around, shorter distances away.

I could have fought on living here but I didn’t want to miss a chance of living life more fully with people I really wish to spend time with.

And so, as I flew out of the city, it became apparent to me that the nostalgia I was feeling was natural but the guilt that had been brewing inside could be put aside.

Maybe, I will still get these kind of questions both inside my head and from my wife and daughter, when we compare something between the two places.

But I hope my head will be able to handle those feelings better and not leave me confused as I was these past few days!

After all, the nostalgia means we had a good time, although it lasted a short while. Perhaps incentive to plan a family trip sometime later on.

And without any feeling of guilt left over, I could happily say that the one and a half year we spent here was some of the best times we spent as a family!

In the moment!

~ Rishi ~ Leave a comment

We were at a school event. Our daughter and her classmates were going to perform in front of their parents.

Seated slightly far away, we were observing the kids performances relatively calmly. When our daughter’s turn came to perform, we took out our mobiles and captured it customarily on video.

Post that day, we haven’t looked at that video even once! And I am not sure if we will ever look at it again.

Except for maybe when the photos app throws it as a reminder, about what happened that day or month back in 2024. Which will be nostalgic and a memory worth preserving.

Or so it seems…

What about the actual event and why we had been there? What about capturing that memory in our hearts when it was actually happening?

That day, as well as every now and then, when there’s something happening worth watching, I see everyone zoom in on their phone cameras. Strategically positioned in front of their eyes or just above, to avoid the swarm of heads in front.

Trying to keep our hands stable, so that the video doesn’t shake, we strive to capture the happening for posterity.

But in that process, I haven’t seen myself enjoy the actual show as much. As much as when I don’t have my phone camera switched on.

Maybe it’s me. I don’t like to double task.

Or maybe it’s my rational mind. Why waste phone memory when I have the actual event captured in my mind and heart?

Or maybe it is the pressure of not doing what everyone else is doing. And how can I not follow societal norms!

Or maybe, it’s the anxiety of losing out on this moment once it’s gone and so capturing it makes more sense.

Or maybe (the last one), I do care about posterity and nostalgia and do want to save these memories forever, for some AI to notify and auto generate albums and slideshows somewhere in the distant future.

I don’t know which maybe is the correct one here. Genuinely.

Maybe (ah!), I ought to think more about when to capture and when to just enjoy what is happening in front of me. My own AI (active intelligence)!!!

The good ol’ days!

~ Rishi ~ Leave a comment

We all have those people whom we spent some good days with. Family, friends, colleagues.

Often, when we meet, the conversations turn toward the days we spent together. How it felt and how it continues to give us joy even now.

This weekend, as I spent time with cousins and then a couple of childhood friends, the time together allowed us to feel the vicarious pleasure of living those golden moments again.

There’s something about spending time together. In person, with other human beings…

Just the other day, I was reading and then chatting about loneliness and how we are becoming distant from others. Today, as I settled down to write, this appreciation dawned on me.

That I am someone who needs to be around people I enjoy being with.

That I want to feel the voices and touch the feelings of togetherness across different relationships I have.

That I crave talking to people who I am friends with, even if it is whiling away time in small talk.

That I am much more happier and satisfied with a day well spent in a group rather than a week of being alone.

That I must take out time to do so, as often as I can.

For, there are very few things more enjoyable than sharing moments which you can remember and feel fresh again reminiscing about those good ol’ days later!

The joy of little

~ Rishi ~ Leave a comment

We celebrate abundance. But don’t respect it enough.

On the other hand, we don’t like having little. But sometimes it gives us joy like nothing else.

Yesterday, on a hike with clear bright skies, I spent time talking to my daughter about a few things. She was getting tired in between and I was trying to divert her mind to something else.

In that effort, I came across this rather true juxtaposition…

I was narrating to her how in my younger days, holidays happened far and few in between.

We were mostly occupied with playing in the neighbourhood and only went on longer holidays once in 2-3 years. We did do shorter one-day trips to nearby places but the longer ones were what I remembered.

I still remember my trip to Darjeeling, a hill station in India’s north eastern region, when I was ten. Or when we went to Jammu and surrounding areas after I finished my tenth standard.

Those trips were a lot of fun. We were with family friends or cousins and celebrated through the trip.

Even after returning, we used to reminisce about those days for months altogether. Although such trips were very few, the pleasure we derived was immense.

Contrast to today. We take a lot more holidays. And often. Almost twice a year.

Yet, only a few of those are really remembered long after. Most of them fade away after a few months.

So the abundance of holidays isn’t helping with more memories. They are helping with getting away from the everyday bustle of life but maybe that’s it.

That’s why we try and go for these holidays now, to seek a breather from our non-stop lives. And therefore, only a few of those really are worth remembering!

Perhaps, true for other things in life as well…

The things I will miss…

~ Rishi ~ Leave a comment

There’s a saying I’ve heard many a people say, “Enjoy your time with your children until they grow up”. One of my colleagues even relayed a scientific study that quoted how we spend almost two thirds of our entire time with our kids during their first ten years.

This weekend, during a casual conversation at the salon while getting a haircut, the owner was relaying to me how her daughters have grown up now and they hardly have time for her. She was talking about it in a humorous manner but I could also sense a tinge of sadness behind her voice at times.

As I stepped out and walked my way back home, I was reflecting on what I will miss with my daughter as the years pass by. She is eight currently, so I have technically spent more than half of my entire lifetime’s worth of time with her already!

I will surely miss her innocence. How she can ask the most simplest of questions without any prejudgements or implying anything. How she means only what she says and nothing else. And how she accepts any apologies with an open heart.

I will miss her laughter and the unbridled fun she has right now. How she goads us to tickle her, just because she likes it. Or how she finds joy in the smallest of things around her and reminds us of the beauty around us.

I will miss her curiosity and ability to grasp things. How she asks all kinds of questions because she genuinely wants to know. How she believes in things someone has told her and we have to then make efforts to prove it otherwise, in case she has learnt something wrong. How she is able to make sense of things so rapidly, while sometimes we are at sea.

I will miss her banter with us and the endless conversations she initiates. How she can strike up a chat on random things and go on about them for a long time. How she tells us everything, whether good or bad, because that’s how she feels like.

I will miss a lot more. I maybe don’t know yet. But what I do know is that as she grows up further, some of these things will go away from her behavior or change over time. She will surely have lesser time for us then.

Hopefully, I will be able to make the most of the times we have with her now and conserve all these memories while we still have the time to make them…

Cravings

~ Rishi ~ Leave a comment

2009, Singapore. A bunch of us, together in the MBA program, were discussing about good options for having Indian food.

Someone in the group suggested we try out a restaurant called ‘Annapurna’. It literally means the goddess of food in Hindu culture. The place offered a buffet and trusting the reviews we got from a couple of other friends, we headed downtown.

It turned out to be just the place we were looking for. Craving for good Indian food, we had found a gem. Needless to say, over the next few months we visited the restaurant quite a few times. Every time we craved for Indian food and even when we didn’t.

2018, Bangalore. I had been in the city for a few years and had been used to the piping hot idlis, crisp dosas and filter coffee that the many darshinis (fast food restaurants) had to offer.

Then, someone suggested ‘Taaza Thindi’ in Jayanagar. I had never been there. But again based on online reviews decided to try it. And it turned out to be a revelation. Ever since, we went there at least once a month to satisfy our cravings.

Craving for an ice cream today, I remembered these instances and they instantly bought a smile to my face…

I am sure all of us have similar stories. Where we found something that appealed to our senses and the craving for that experience led us to the same place multiple times.

What’s interesting to note though is that it is very difficult for something to appeal to us in a fashion that it draws us time and again. Out of the many places we have been to, only a few really earn a recall or even compel us to visit again.

I may be speaking from a short-sighted stance but it is almost always a place or thing which has character (age-old traditional one, new-age but very differentiated), or has a unique offering done right that we can’t find anywhere else. Because only when we associate with that character or uniqueness is when we crave for more of that experience.

I may be talking about food here but the same can apply for other things as well.

Interesting, because when we build something, we never think about this aspect deeply. In most cases, we try and conform to the trends – to what others are doing, or what they want, or what we see elsewhere.

What if instead, we started with a focus on differentiating ourselves in terms of what we stand for and how we do things. And then continue to do it day in and day out. Until we gain mastery over it and it becomes second nature. Enough to compel others to be drawn to our work – be it cooking, writing, or what we do in our day jobs!

Love and Longing…

~ Rishi ~ 2 Comments

It was the summer of 1999. I had just finished my 12th exams and was awaiting results.

With my eyes clearly set on joining the Armed Forces, I had not been preparing for any other competitive exams and therefore wasn’t too engrossed in the coaching classes as my other friends were. With a lot of free time to kill, I had gone to my hometown to stay with my grandmother. My Dadi.

She was my first love.

My parents tell me that she absolutely adored me from the day I was born and took special care of me. And I was so fond of her and attached to her that I would rather stay with her than go to any other place, even with my parents.

As I grew up a little and my parents moved to different places, owing to my father’s transferable job, it was because of her that I stayed back in my hometown. It was also my parents confidence in her strength and character to nurture and bring me up without having to uproot me at that tender age.

So, while my mother shuttled between two places and my father stayed alone at times, I was sheltered under my Dadi’s watch. She just didn’t take care of me but also taught me a lot of new things. Those formative years that I spent with her are forever etched in my memory.

Once I turned into a teenager, my father finally decided to move me from the hometown to a new place where he was posted. Although it was a difficult decision for both me and my Dadi, it was perhaps the need of the hour for me to have new experiences and learn new things.

The next few years we stayed in 2-3 places, and during all that time, we constantly visited our hometown for important festivals, special occassions, or simply over the weekend. In that period, as I made new friends and moved through middle and high school, I realized the importance of the lessons she imparted to me, which helped me grow as an individual.

All this increased the respect I had for her, multifold. While we were not staying together, I used to still cherish spending time with her on our frequent visits or whenever she came over to stay with us. We used to talk about myriad things, I used to tell her about what is happening in my life, tease her for her constant fixation with all things pertaining to running the house, play board games with her, and take care of her as she was growing old.

Naturally, in that summer of 1999, when I had nothing better to do after my exams, I decided to travel and stay with Dadi for a few days. During those days, she was constantly worried about the next steps in my life. I tried to explain to her my choice and the reason why I had chosen so. I also tried to assure her that she needn’t worry as I was a grown up boy now. It was finally my father who patiently explained to her my choice and convinced her about it. Finally, as she reluctantly calmed down, I heaved a sigh of relief, almost behaving as if I was through the selection process.

That evening, as I waved to her on my way out, something strange churned within me. We had both always been sad about parting, even if for a short while. That day, however, I felt high emotions. I remember thinking about it on the way and feeling uneasy. We eventually reached our other home, a hundred kilometers away, at nightfall. Winding down after dinner, I remembered her sad face and slowly settled down to sleep.

It was alas, the last time I had seen her alive. For that same night, we got news of her demise. We packed again and went back. I recall seeing her still body lying on an ice slab and everyone around crying and sobbing. Strangely, there were no tears in my eyes. Just plain sadness. I sat down beside her and prayed for a few minutes. There were enough people at home, although it was early morning, and a lot of them were consoling us.

But I had absolutely no tears. I was dumbfounded. It was my first experience of seeing someone who wasn’t alive. And that too, my beloved Dadi.

As a couple of hours passed in that trance, I kept rethinking about the last few days I had spent with her and various memories kept flashing across my eyes. It felt as if sitting across her, I had just been watching her sleep, like I used to do at times in a mischievious way to spook her. The only difference being, she could not respond now.

That’s when it hit me. That I had lost her forever. And that she would never be back. Realizing that, my dam burst, and it must have been for 30-40 minutes that I couldn’t stop my tears. Finally, I gathered myself and we performed her last rites later that day, bidding her body the final goodbye.

It has been almost 23 years. And yet, the memories still linger on. Her body may have gone but her soul persists in my concious and sub-concious mind. I remember her in my thoughts, in my dreams, and in my stories to my little one. And I am sure, she does too, somewhere in the universe. For as much as I loved her, she loved me much more!

Happy Valentine’s Day, Dadi. As we celebrate the week of love, I must call out to you again, love you forever…