Life Lessons by a 4 year old : What kids teach us

How many days a week do you feel like life is just too complicated – Be honest? I guess even if it isn't, it doesn't take us long to make things complicated by our own free will. We human beings just have this inherent capacity to ramp up everything to the next level.  

For the past few months, I have been a stay at home mom – yet again. I do miss my working days, but spending time with my son seems like a big consolation prize for this trade off. Some days have been overwhelming in fact – settling in a new place – a new country with no knowledge of their language. It’s natural to feel lost at times. However, I have my son – to teach me simple things about life.

Don’t we teach our children everything we can think of? From tying shoelaces to crossing the road safely to ride a bike or not to talk to strangers. But have you ever pondered on the ways our children inspire us? Here are some, that I could think of – even if you try one per week, it will be a good start – trust me on that.

Start Afresh!

Do you recall that wonderful feeling at the end of a term at school or the summer break – didn't it always feel so final, so finished? The holidays between May and July seemed like a lifetime. Because when we are young, each day feels like an infinity and a new day means new prospects to make new friends, discover new adventures, learn new things. Children don't carry baggage from one day to the next. They start fresh, always. My son has been made to first leave his friends in US and then in India. But he seems to have no qualms. He already has a “BFF” here in Germany. See? It’s easy to always start afresh.

Creative quests are fun

How often do you see children losing themselves in a creative project for hours at a time? My son spends hours in drawing, coloring, building his garden of dinosaurs, constructing a sandcastle in the play area with scrupulous attention to detail. I wonder why, for some odd reason, as we get older, we stop seeing creative activities as worthy? How many of you, leaving aside if you are an artist, draw regularly – or sometimes maybe? How many of you play with clay or finger paint just for the fun of it? How many of you pursue your hobby? I recently began my buried love for painting.

Be brave

My son sings out loud when he wants to. He dances when he feels like. I guess his life feels unbounded. This is because unlike us, children are not confined by fears of failure or embarrassment. They march forward with confidence and fortitude because they don't know any better. They haven't been beaten down, they haven't undergone failure. They embrace life and all it has to offer with open arms.

Laugh – a lot!

My son laughs – and laughs a lot. He tells me a funny story and expects me to laugh with him. But he doesn’t care, even if I don’t. He can laugh on the same joke a million times saying “Mamma it’s so funny!” .Children have the beautiful gift of finding joy all around them. I mean, as adults what is it that you would find funny in a smashed cupcake or hide and seek game every night before you go to bed? They see madness everywhere. And I guess it’s better to be mad sometimes – or perhaps always?

Cherish friendship

Like I mentioned earlier, my son spent only 2 and a half years in USA, but he made lots of friends whom he misses even now. Then he made new friends in India, after which we moved to Germany. While he misses his friends, but it took him just a month here to make new friends. He hasn’t even started school yet. Children find true joy while playing with friends and they love making new ones. They join football teams, go to a birthday parties, and start new schools. These are all ways that children make new friends. They adhere to the motto, "the more the merrier," and adults should, as well.

Be the hero

Have you ever noticed that when a kid tells you a story about his school or a conversation with his friend, or the play area, they are usually the hero of their story? Seems like the entire world revolves around them. As we grow old, we don't want to be snobbish or egocentric, so we often modulate our accomplishments and successes. We don't want to boast. At least some of us don’t want to? But in doing so, we often slip to the side of self-disapproval. We put ourselves down to make others feel better or to be more relatable. Humility becomes an admirable trait and we start to persuade ourselves of our own mediocrity. Learn from the wisdom of a child. Be the hero of your story.

Scars are symbols of honor    

Remember, when we were children and broke a bone, everyone we knew signed the cast? We become the superstar of the class – or better put - the “survivor”. I notice the same with children today also. If they fall down and cut themselves, everyone wants to see the scar, they wear it pompously. As we age, we hide our scars, our injuries (and I am not referring to physical wounds) become our secrets. We are scared to be seen as feeble or commiserated, so we tell no one where it hurts and how much it hurts. However, what I learn from my own son is to recognize is that scars aren't signs of weakness, a scar is in fact a sign of strength and survival – utmost endurance. A story to tell. An achievement.

Try new things

Children are never afraid to play a sport they have never tried before. They will jump on a trampoline, dive into a pool or ski down a mountain even if it is alien to them. As grown-ups, we fear the unknown. We stay securely entrenched in our comfort zone and seldom venture out. Adventure stimulates us and awakens the spirit. Sky diving and bungee jumping still remain to be on my bucket list, thus.

Observe and cherish the little things

My nephew loves watching the waves of the sea run back and forth at the water's edge. He notices how fast his feet get buried in the sand, as the water moves along the sand. Something simple that we take for granted brings him immense joy and he could spend hours playing with those waves. Ever wondered how and when did we stop noticing the petite miracles that surround us daily?

A trek in the woods overpowers the iPad any day!  

The latest gadgets and video games simply cannot replace the natural visuals, the full-sensory experience, or the relationship of a family walk through the forests. Never have, never will. And for that matter, nothing else produced on television can compete either. So turn off that 42 inch LED TV. Go outside. Live life, don’t just watch it on your little iPad.

Maybe children are in this world because we as grown-ups have so much left to unlearn and relearn.

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Why do I Write

Of late, I have often been asked this question – Why do you write? My prompt answer to that 

question normally is – Because I do not know anything else! However, it made me ponder and here’s what I feel.

I love writing because every story I weave is like opening a beautiful gate to the mysterious.

I love its ambiguousness, its capriciousness, the way it has taught me about life, about joy, about people.

I love discovering an innovative voice to compose in. At the outset this voice is just a murmur, a flicker inside your mind. But then the murmur cultivates and gains a clout all of its own. And then you perceive the voice even when you’re doing laundry, washing the dishes or slipping off to sleep.

I love exploring newfangled worlds, new characters that don’t originate from me but from somewhere out there, way out there from some place out of my control.

I love the way characters express to you and communicate to you what they want.

I love the manner in which writing digs up the bygones and discovers the prospects of future.

I love the way writing helps you figure yourself. Wish to discard emotional baggage? Then write about it.

I love writing since I have met so many compassionate and magnificent people through it.

I love writing because it loves me back.

I love writing because it liberates me.

I love writing because it sets me free.

I love writing because that’s the only thing I know to do.

I love writing because it’s my love.

I am driven by the power of writing – as a device for expressiveness, for healing, for inspiring, for bringing transformation. That is exactly why I write – to express myself, to restore myself, to test myself and to transform myself. If in the course of writing, if someone else is healed, challenged or driven to change, that is a surplus.

Why do you write?

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With each other or half a world away ?

I gaze at you but I fail to see you there
my senses and eyes are sealed over
dashing obliquely
petulantly looking at my phone
anticipating an alert for notification of
A comment, a tweet, a like, a status update.

I hear you however I fail to listen
my senses and ears are tweaked into music
from a distant land
Intermingled with ting-a-lings

Those convey it to me that I have an unread message waiting.

I am with you but my brain is elsewhere
with somebody more fascinating
more likeable
Somebody whom I am yet to meet
Somebody I am yet to talk to in person
Somebody, whose name I barely know

I relish the manner we snuggle in front of the television
while I celebrate in the limelight
from co-Facebookers, co-tweeters, co-Instagramers
and chortle mutely when my opinion is liked
retweeted or climbs the popularity charts.

I treasure our time with each other
I see your face shining with love
and mine in the light of my
valued device.
We seem picture-perfect for each other.

------------------------------------------

It’s astounding how much has evolved ever since the late 80s and early 90s when Zack Morris (a TV show character) was given a mobile phone the dimension of a sandwich, and antennae and phone boxes were fitted in cars so that people could enjoy a “car phone.” 

It has virtually fully converted to a different world since then. And what’s also most interesting is how much the world spins around their smartphone comrades — phones like Droid and iPhone. Debate between which one is better is another story.  These smartphones are now hardly used as just phones – you know the kinds we used a few 10 years back – the kinds which could make and receive calls and send messages?, These smartphones are rather portable computers. The propensity for people to detach has considerably amplified, not because it’s preferred, but because it’s just too simplified now. There may still be the yearning for a relationship, but it’s become tougher to get driven when it’s easier to self-distract now.

The Internet and smartphones have fundamentally become a lifestyle in an alternate reality. How much devotion and focus is invested in playing a game on a smartphone or cell phone rather than spending that valuable time with family or friends, or making sociable banter in queue at the grocery store, or on bus stop?

Understandably, the solution isn’t to surrender our social media devices. The concern seeps in when our dosages of alternate reality and real life become imbalanced to the stage where the alternate reality conquers us. We find ourselves relating more with the technology in front of us — even if there’s a living person on the other end.

Finally, a slight disconnection expectantly will lead way for a reconnection to those epitomes and objectives that are most imperative to you, even if those epitomes were formed in a world massively diverse from the present-day.

Don’t have a smartphone? Don’t fret! Because you have what others do not have – Time for yourself.

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Open your mouth wider for M-A-N-S-I

You ask, what’s in a name afterall? I say “Everything”

So I clarify virtually for everyone.

It is  pronounced as ‘Maan-see’.

Yeah, you got it right, open your mouth really  wide and pronounce the ‘s’  just the way you would pronounce it in a ‘miss’ ,’piss’, . It’s not “Fizz” like a ‘zee’ sound, it’s the “c” sound

And no, it is not called  in any other modified or improvised  manner. When I explicate and spell it “M A N A S I “,  for you, don’t interpret it as  Nancy, Monsey or mansingh?

Regardless of  how many times people at various coffee outlets here,  understand assume and write  it that way, or sales people at various store and especially callers from doctors’ office  repeat it such -  My name is not  Mansingh or Nancy. It does not sound like any of those and I am certainly not changing it to those!

Just so that a few people find it tricky to pronounce it — and the majority get an innovative way to botch it — I am not altering my name – certainly not!

How would you prefer it if I pronounced your name as  Kaatey instead of Kate ? Or Jaani instead of Jenny?

How about that? Those are easy to pronounce names there, right?

So you see -  so is mine.

And my name has a meaning too – and a good one too there.

It means “everything you can desire” and in Sanskrit it means “a sound mind” while historically it means a lady.

I am sure  you did not know that?

To many folks,  it isn’t a big deal afterall? They’d rather just call out for David or DJ at a coffee shop — all they want is their cup of coffee, so who cares?

It isn’t really worth investing some odd 30 seconds making the individual across  the counter get every syllable correct.

But it matters to me. It’s my name- it’s my identity, remember?.

Although I know I’m squandering my time explaining the pronunciation to one person when the one at the other end will eventually mess up again.

“So a skimmed milk caramel café mocha  for uhumm….Man- what??!?”

How difficult is it to hear and pronounce it really?.

So, here’s your carry away message: my name is called and pronounced as — Maan-sea - (yes, you got to open your mouth wider) and I my brain is technically tuned to not respond to any other names like “Mansingh, Nancy, and Monsey” etc

Additionally, it is not open to modifications and I don’t want you to get creative with it.

By the way, incase you are wondering,   my last name is pronounced as : “Chitt-raan-shee!” .Err, forget it!

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Small Joys

And then life is full of some small joys that never cease to make you smile.

• An unprompted hug from your child without asking for one.

• Getting an unexpected call from a friend when it’s not your birthday.

• Discovering a long lost thing unpredictably while cleaning your closet.

• Realizing that you are in someone’s thoughts and prayers always.

• Waking up early on a weekend and discovering you can go back to sleep

• Devouring hot pakoras, made by someone – especially for you on a rainy day.

• Gazing at the dazzling sun high above the clouds while seated in an airplane, when it’s grey and cloudy on the ground.

• Sand swarming from under your feet at the seaside.

• Gazing at the vermillion, golden tinges of sunset, while the sun fades away in the ocean.

• Your child’s hand clasping your finger tightly while he sleeps.

• Finding a fresh new green leaf in your plants.

• Leaning on a welcoming shoulder when watching a movie.

• The house smelling of food someone else cooked when you return home from work.

• When the radio plays your favorite song unexpectedly.

For happiness is never stopping to think if you are. Experienced any unanticipated small joy lately?

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Do you know what you want?

I wish my leading eye-opener this year is that I don’t actually know what I want.

Let me explain.

We grow up believing we recognize what we yearn for, but we’re mistaken. We all begin with the erroneous thought about it. Your entire life, society has guided you about the things you want in your life. Others recognize what they want you to want. Your relatives, family, your spiritual societies, your politicians and your bosses know precisely what they want you to want. You’ll acquire everyone’s idea except for your own, but these unfamiliar ideas will amass, and in the deficiency of your own they get you pursuing things.

We are not born being aware of what we want, either. Society presupposes they ought to know routinely what we want, which happens to be whatever the caucus it is in our traditions. For few it could imply marrying off to “a great provider”, for others it could imply striving for a higher management position, for others it could mean to earn money.

Then we grow to be adults and, if we’re fortunate, gradually discover that no one can train you about what you want. You trip upon it on your own- provided you do a lot o tripping over that is. Your parents weren’t aware what you wanted, they presumed it’s the same as what they wanted. The solitary thoughts they can offer you of what you must want are the needs they can recognize. Advertisers, for instance, do not know what you want, they look for it. The sole idea they can offer you is what they expect you want, which is to purchase their product or service from them.

Your individual idea emerges only when you have the real familiarity of what you want. You can’t distinguish until you experience it.  How promptly that happens depends on how frequently you do what you’re not accustomed to doing. That implies travel accelerates it, and habits repress it. Doing scary and unfamiliar things hastens it, doing comfortable things stifles it.

I’m gradually learning what I want, and I just started to learn, actually learn, once I found out that I don’t already identify what I want — that the things I’ve been pursuing all this while have infact been other people’s needs.

Some things I recognize I want, even if no one else wants me to want them are:

I would like more driving with the windows turned down and music turned off

I would like lesser time on smart phones and more time talking

I would like extra one-on-one coffees and brunch outings with friends

I would like more walking, less driving

I would like more relishing and less guzzling

I would like more floras

I would like to dress in outfits that let go of my inhibitions

I would like more time with a paint and brush in my hand and less time with a kitchen spatula

I would like more conversation and less thinking

I would like color synchronization

I would like baths with ambient melody playing in the backdrop

I would like to surprise people as much as I can

I would like to modify plans without worrying about it

I would like to transform the way you ponder about the significant things in life

—-

So what is that you want in life? Tell me, but don’t respond too hastily.

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Open Letter to People Who Do Not Reply to Emails.

Dear People who don't reply to my emails,

I'd want to trust that my first email to you got misplaced, never went through or wretchedly fell victim to your spam box. The reality is some people just don't care enough to exchange electronic communication with me which just tempts me to want to email you people all the more.

Miserably with all the communication technology out there we are sanctified /loaded with never-ending reasons of why we do not reply to emails : "my phone has been acting up lately" or  “ I haven’t been able to check my mails for days now” ( Oh yeah! I can see how you got time in between to be online on Facebook though) “Oh, you sent an email to me? when? “(Just when you were busy ignoring my mail, sweetheart!). I mean what kind of people would not reply to mails? And no, I am not referring to those foolhardy forwarded mails. I am talking about mails which pose a question, discuss a plan or are intended to be replied to.

When some people don’t reply to my e-mails, I always believe, maybe something catastrophic must have happened - Like perhaps they got smacked by a meteorite or maybe the aliens abducted them.

I believe I must understand that maybe you all have much better things to do (like investing one full day stalking people on Facebook) than to be online all day replying to my emails. You probably have better things to do in life – like assisting Obama on his political decisions that can change the world, or maybe you are the invisible Spiderman, on his/her way to save the world.

I hope that in the coming days,  I comprehend that the world does not in fact spin around me and that “you people” aren’t going to form a unison to all mark me as spam. As in, it’s not like you are even thinking about me to the extent that I think about you?

But if you are reading this post right now – and you know who you are - my blog – the lines ahead are for you.

I wish that the days ahead fetch you nothing but an inbox overflowing with Nigerian bank hoax attempt, body part enlargement ads and messages that your ex-girlfriend /boyfriend who caused you a heartbreak lately, got wedded to someone much better looking.

Additionally, please send me your address so that I can send you a book on “Easy to follow E-mail etiquettes “along with a pet pigeon that you can use to carry forward and back, some important messages.

Yours Sincerely,

Potential Spammer

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On Inflated Egos and Excuses

Each dreadful exam score, blown cut-off date and botched venture offers a brand new prospect to try out fresh excuses. It was an explosion at home. An ailing dog.  An urgent situation at work. Not to forget the roadways: if only they hadn’t been so frosty.

This type of conversation is so common that majority of the people hurriedly dismiss it, even when it comes out of their own mouth.

This is the primary cause that valid excuse artisans — and there are zillions of them — don’t hang around until after choking to carry out their expertise. They shuffle themselves, in intense, prior to chasing an aspiration or delivering a performance. Their excuses come pre-glued: I didn’t get enough time. Luck didn’t favor me. I was given a fair chance at the interview. I had no clue what the college application actually required.

We all know them – extremely self-assured, bigheaded people with overblown opinions of themselves. They swagger and strut, ostensibly unreceptive to critical views, intimidations of failure or the glare of self-consciousness.

These are the people with a big fat ego, which is fed only by their illusions – about themselves. The "ego" is an invented mental state, a delusion. Your ego is something that consents you to think that you are superior than who you really are; it’s a disguise, a band aid cure for a lack of self-confidence. This is the self-doubting feeling will always cause roadblocks for you.

Let's be frank. If you go and approach and you face refusal, there is a rationale behind this. You most probably are deficient in the expertise and experience and your insecurities conquest and clutter you up.

To have self-confidence is to have neither too soaring nor too squat an opinion of oneself. It is to value one's veracity, to be competent of humiliation if one fails to stand up to one's own outlook of what one should do and how one should be.  Self-esteem is the basis of value for others. One of the most adverse consequences of an inflated ego and prejudice is that it leads to lowering the sense of worth.

In the end, it’s always about the choices we make. Discern and value your strong choices. You can opt right away - to think about a stimulating idea. The aptitude to choose is what differentiates us from animals. Nobody else can do this for us—no psychotherapist, counselor or medication. So bestow yourself with some soul food today instead of feeding the inflated ego.

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I AM

We all have an Ugly Betty living inside us. A flawed woman, an imperfect woman fanatical to make herself more ideal for someone else, to be what somebody else expects them to be, somebody who is at times swamped by the traits/features she doesn’t own  but longs to live a more satisfied life and feel more comprehensive. As frequently as a woman we live our life indefatigably fighting what is expected of us and what we envisage of ourselves. But more frequently, I have learnt how to value the imperfections, the flaws that make me the woman I am today. There is something organic, unadulterated and inspiring about accepting the flaws that make you who you really are. But it’s even more triumphant to stop trying to be perfect; to stop evaluating yourself with the yardstick of another woman’s splendor, body, accomplishment, recognition, prosperity, success or peace.  Being a flawed woman is living a complete contended life.  It is so much like plunging your fingers deep into the jug of life and licking each emotion off, one finger at a time. It’s accommodating the tang of bitterness, enjoying the flavor of serenity, resisting the flavor of spite, teasing yourself with the whiffs of victory, savoring the cracks of unselfishness, swallowing the seeds of trepidations, biting down the crumbs of prejudice. I am an imperfect- a flawed woman and I don’t constantly manage myself with equanimity and composure. I go awry, I fail, I get angry, I feel scared, I cry, I snigger and I brawl and I am happy accepting that. Given that, it’s all these flaws, imperfections and blemishes boxed up together that make me, the unique me.

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The Plunge

Isn’t there constantly something?
A target to be achieved
a cut-off date to be met
a promotion to be earned
one more tread to be mounted.

A wedding, a birth

A home

Responsibilities, obligations

Worldly wise ambitions

Purposes, roadmaps

Activities

Awards and praises.

Isn’t there constantly something?

An assessment to get ready for

a car purchased or sold

an itch fulfilled

a mirage — the conclusion of the road.

It never seems to end

The constant and ever going rat race

Or the social commitments

Who you really are

what you really do

where you really go

is decided

not by things around you

or those who are around you.

The start

is now

The hope and the future

is ahead

Take the plunge

For if not now…

then when?

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Where are those Days?

Wondering...

Where are those days
when we could
put an upturned
container on our heads
and act as if to
we were a fireman
or a dreamer
or robot?

Where are those days
when we could
giggle absurdly
and roll on the ground
accredited to a
fart or burp
or other bodily sounds which seemed so funny.

Where are those days
when droplets
enthralled us and
the famous “Chanda mama” excited us
no end; when a
fountain was all
we required to
make our world complete.

Where are those days
when everything was
new-fangled and held a hope
when we didn’t know
what tomorrow will bring
but we knew it
would be as happy
as today?

Where are those days
when we candidly
hugged
and kissed
those who made us
feel loved and unique.

Where are those days when
the loss of a favorite pencil
was life’s leading catastrophe
of our lives
and the acquirement
of a new one
our biggest victory.

Where are those days when
we could chuckle
and weep wantonly
when we could
love with
paramount fervor
when we could
pick ourselves up
dust ourselves off
and continue
with the same
zeal.

Where are those days when
we didn’t know
the significance
of intolerance
goal
aspiration
principle
remorse
hate
sorrow
envy
or adversity?

Where are those days
when our life
was uncomplicated
our requirements fundamental
our wishes
confined to a chocolate
and one more ride
on a giant wheel.

Where are those days
when we were
actually, really, truly
contented.
When we lived
the meaning of
contentment
and didn’t just
read superficial quotes about them
on internet, to post them on Facebook.

PS – This post is a consequence of a nostalgic frame of mind, while going through some of my random lines that I wrote in a diary – The days, when we actually knew how to write with a pen.

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The Big 30

Okay. So this post has been delayed. I intended writing and posting this around my 30^th Birthday, so sooner or later, its here.

I have never feared turning 30. A few years back, I use to infact look forward to take a leap into the Third Tier, anxious to abandon the immaturity, self-distrust of the 20s.

As I mentioned earlier it’s been more than a month now that I turned 30. “I don't feel like an old duck. Infact, I don't even feel grown-up,” I said to myself on the morning of my 30th birthday when everyone wishing me was asking me “So how many years?” I don’t think I have arrived, still time to reach there. But I can see the target. It's still on a hill, and fortunately I no more look from the bottom of the valley any longer. I can shape a comprehensible trail if I stay focused.

So, in to celebrate a much awaited milestone in my life, I jotted down a few things women should be acquainted with by the time 30 comes knocking. This is the (half-done) list:

*Love is a verb. Love devoid of emotions, feelings etc means absolutely nothing and can stand null and void.

*Rage does not equate to being stronger, it equates to being angry. Loud does not mean right and wont set anything right.

*If he is The One, he will be The One. When you're being pushy and compelling him to be the one it, you’re not doing it right. Take a break and search for the Next One to be The One.

*Discover treating people with the same perceptive and understanding you would like to receive. You're cannot be perfect. Neither can anyone else be.

*Be a globetrotter. Go around exploring the untouched places, food, cultures etc. Learn how to greet in a native language, and especially learn to say “Thank You” with a smile in their language.

*Enjoy your company. If you don’t like your own company, how do you suppose anyone else will? Begin with a film at a theatre; then move on to lunch, then dinner, all by yourself. And then maybe someday graduate to going to a destination all by yourself.

*Begin trusting yourself. A billion people will narrate you a billion stories -- few factual, few fabricated. If it sounds like a lie, it more often than not is. If it sounds right, it could be. Give credence to your gutfeel.

*Mistakes are lessons in disguise. You’re allowed to make mistake, even blunders but if you learn from your mistakes, your mistake is not useless. Avoid saying sorry for the same thing more than once

*Welcome old age with open arms. There can be nothing worse for a woman who doesn’t age charmingly. If you’re envious of the youth, take comfort in that – By rule of life and God’s grace -- young people ultimately age too.

Most of the above mentioned things, I have accomplished. Some I need to.

What else do you feel should be on the list of what women need to know by 30? Share with me.

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