Lessons of youth...

The lessons we learn as kids are something that stick with us for the rest of our lives. As I grow in life, I find that I am what I am because of what was inculcated into me as a child. Whether it was by my parents or teachers or simply by life, my current value system is largely based on what I learned in the first 16-17 years of my life. It is amazing how such a short span of your life has the power to decide half a century of your life. I know it's never too late to change, but I also know that it's not easy to embrace change once you have become set in your ways.

In that sense, it can be said that parents end up shouldering a lot of responsibility because 9/10 times, their kids are what they make them out to be. Of course, that is not to say that parents are responsible for the poor choices their kids make as adults, but they are primarily responsible for their child's inability to make the right choice as an adult. May be that's the reason why we find harrowed parents supporting adult children who never seem to grow up or constantly make poor choices. Because somewhere deep down in their hearts they know that they should have done a better job at parenting. 

Parenting is not a thankless job, just one where the stakes are high...really really high...

What Really Counts

I'm reading a blog titled My Unemployed Journey these days which talks of the trials and tribulations of a 40 something TV producer, once successful, but now laid off owing to the big R (that's recession). He talks about how this is a blessing in disguise in some ways...like him getting to actually watch his kids playing soccer, him being able to steal moments with his bipolar mother, him able to help out his wife with the stuff at home. But, his blog DOES NOT glorify unemployment. He makes no attempt to hide how he feels being the - oh-once successful-now-unemployed guy, but he does manage to drive home some bits about the things that really count in life. Reading his blog this morning, sort of sent me into flashback mode to something that happened 2 years ago. My company was going through a tough time and there was a meeting held for a couple of us managers. I being the pessimist, assumed the worst and my head was reeling as we sat there in the conference room, waiting for the MD to come in and brief us. Finally, I said to myself, 'What's the worst that could happen?' The answers were--1. I lose my job 2.Get one that pays much less and that was it. I'd still have a supportive dad, loving mom and a sister who would make me laugh--those who'd treat me the same even if I earned a few grands less. And then...I waited for the MD to come in and brief us--about whatever it was.

Those few moments in the conference room, changed my perspective towards life and what really counts. That is not say I'm any less committed towards my work, or don't value money, just that I now do what I'm doing because I enjoy it...

And the briefing that day...was about something so inconsequential that I don't even remember it anymore!

Push, Shove, Elbow--Beg, Borrow, Steal

Anybody trying to get an entry in the elevator at CBD Belapur's 10th Tower between 10-10.15 a.m. knows it's a herculean task. In fact, the common joke doing rounds among people at CBD complex is that the elevator is more crowded than the trains arriving around that time. If you stood there you'd notice that people push and shove to be able to enter the elevator...sometimes, it's so bad that persons are not allowed to alight. The same thing happens in the 9.43 PL and 7.11 CST. This attitude of one-upmanship is further carried into our workplaces and sometimes even into relationship (When was the last time you were truly happy for a friend who did better than you?) Worse still, we're pushing this line of thought into the newer generations (Oh...xyz's kid got 98 percentile, why couldn't you?) So, the kids learn to push, shove, and elbow their way into school buses, exam halls, placement camps, offices, relationships et al...and somewhere along this trudge to the ultimate destination (whatever that is, nobody knows) they forget to enjoy the journey called life...

Travel Light...Travel Long

I have always been an advocate of minimal luggage when traveling. As 18 years of realization passed me by it slowly dawned upon me that this concept of traveling light can help you travel through life's rocky terrains better. A lot of people I know would grapple for support across slippery slopes of life, nimble footed, fearing a fall; (I was one of them too...) the reason being our excess baggage which weighs us down. My mother, a wise woman, has always advised me not to hold grudges. She always backed it up with the following reasons-

• Holding grudges only reminds you of the wrong done to you. 
• Holding grudges makes you unhappy because it constantly reminds you of  the above
• Holding grudges prevents  you from living your life to the fullest because you hold back a portion of what you really are
• Holding grudges prevents you from celebrating the many other good qualities a person may have
• Grudges=stress=heart diseases=short life=grieving loved ones, while people who are the root cause of this are not affected

As a teenager, these things never made any sense. I mistook her for being weak willed and 'unworldly'. But, as I said, the last 18 years of realization have told me she was right on this account.  So, I've pretty much learned to ditch the excess baggage and travel light through my journey of life. I'd be lying if I said I travel empty handed all the time because, sometimes do find a bit of baggage lurking around in my heart, yet none so heavy that I can't unload when I think of my mom's words.

Ring out the old...

It's time to embrace another new year with open arms. However, I have never been able to fathom the reason for being excited about January 1st. How come we are so happy to push out the year we welcomed only 365 days ago? Are we tired of it already? Or is it because we believe that things would be different in the next year, and that the next year will bring with it the joys we seek...a bigger home, a faster car, 'true' love, a fatter paycheck? How is it that we think when the needles of the clock huddle together at 12 am on December 31st, our fortune will undergo a major spin?
Alarmingly, this fad to ring out the old and ring in the new spilling over all facets of our lives. We are constantly trying to rediscover ourselves, losing our basic identity in the process of etching a new one. Why not start celebrating what we are, rather than who we want to be? Why not raise a toast to the moment we are living in and appreciate what we have with us here and now...rather than celebrate in anticipation of something which may or may not happen.

My world in a bottle

There's something about nostalgic about perfumes. Every fragrance takes you back to those days when you used it first...that point of time when you'd dab a bit of it on your skin for the first time, when the smell was still novel to you...the time when you'd brag about this new fragrance to your collegues or friends. Then days pass, that bottle is almost empty...there are a few more sprays left, but you think, what's the point. If you are like me, you'd walk into a store that weekend and purchase a new one with a different fragrance. But months or even years later, you happen to walk to the store to buy yet another bottle of perfume, then you see the brand/fragrance you used long ago and think, "Hey that was nice! Let me get that again." The next day, when you spray it, you'll notice that there is a strange sense of familiarity, you are transported to the time when you first sprayed the mist.

It been 13 years since I first used Yardley Rose, which was a gift from my dad, when he returned after a week long trip to London and even now a whiff of Yardley Rose reminds me of the days when my bedtime stories were all about London. 12 years have gone since used Pears cream, yet another gift from my dad who returned from a short trip to Kenya, but even the thought of that fragrance brings to my mind the excitement that I felt as a 12 year old child, whose father was back home from a faraway land, laden with gifts! Eight years later, using Royal Mirage Day, takes me to the USA, which is where I first opened that maroon bottle. The smell of Tommy Girl brings sweet sorrow. That too, was a parting gift from 2 of my very good American friends. I used it during my trip to Paris and sprayed on liberally on the first day of my college in India. The MTV series perfumes were gifted to me by my cousin when I graduated. Using them reminds me of my first real job.

Funny how a few mili liters of liquid trapped in a small bottle, has the capacity to infuse nostalgia, transport you back in time and take you on a trip down the memory lane.