The need to multitask

The need to multi-task; what a popular habit!  I am not sure about you but I have this habit of multitasking. It started with demands and expectations from my various roles and work and before I realized, it became a habit, a compulsion. To be honest, I have always taken pride in it. (What a kick it is to boast about getting everything"done", achieving things, in no time!) 

Last month, I got a wake up call when my health deteriorated making it difficult to even carry on with daily routine and simple tasks like pinching a pot at the pottery studio. I had to take a very painful decision to leave all the activities including my pottery course half way and take rest. For a restless soul like me, there can't be more severe punishment. Life has been bit more dervish since we shifted the house making me scatter in all possible directions.

It is interesting how we often find our truths in least expected spaces in the least imagined ways! I feel there is a lesson for me in this experience no matter how painful. Offlately, my focus has been "no agenda", relaxing completely, listening to my body, cater to its needs, pamper it and bring back rhythm of my life that has somewhere been lost in crazy pursuit of "achievements" whether personal or professional.  

Speed is a natural high and attempt to multitask is a modern way of life. Whether we call it sheer need of the day, compusion or unavoidable evil we all are paying price for it in some way or other. In the era of giving our brain's multitasking hot spots an appropriate workouts, there is nothing new about being pulled in zillion directions, with constant distractions and demands. The question is, how involved are we really in every task that we try to aaccomplish? No matter what all we do but what really matters is whatever we do, we really do it with 100% integrity and involvement. 

When I look back as the days wander off to eternity, I realize the burden of years passed by! These days, when I contemplate on a languid day, listening to music, reading books, mediatating, I realize how sometimes making simple choices are hardest things to achieve in life!

I am currently reading a book and a quote from the book sums up what I am going through:

"All pain is a reminder that we have strayed from the natural rhythms of life."
From "Path of practice", A woman's book of Ayurvedic healing by, Bri. Maya Tiwari  

I have not worked or achieved anything since last few days. My phones are mostly switched off and I have almost cut off from outside world to focus on my health and guess what? The earth has not stopped rotating around the Sun. Life has not stopped. I am still alive and much happier...note to self! 

Flicker of hope - Malala Yousafzai

* Picture of Malala, taken from google

In October 2012, when a teenage girl, Malala Yousafzai was shot in Pakistan, I struggled hard to find coherence of thoughts in my deeply enraged state of mind to write about that barbaric, inhuman attack. I confess, I could not succeed then because it was beyond my comprehension to grasp how could any religious belief condone a fourteen year old child being singled out for a deliberate execution-style assassination? I am dismayed that a young girl could end up being shot at point blank range because she dared to insist upon her right to education in her very own country! 

How can anyone, in name of religion lose basic human instincts towards fellow human beings turning depraved and savagely cruel, in order to exhibit supremacy over others? Why does one need to explain need for right to education as an equal opportunity in 21st century? 

It is shocking that the government that claims to have democratic principles does little about extremist organizations that flourish on its soil; turning blind eye to the blatant truth that those organizations are controlling entire regions of the country, exerting their orthodox dictate over people, vanquishing them against their will to a life of fear and repression! 

Fortunately, Malala has survived and become a global icon of courage, hope and woman power. Her innocent eyes and wisdom of simple words are haunting. Last week, when she addressed the U.N, one could feel beauty of her soul! Her profound words are reflection of unflinching determination, forgiveness, deep understanding, maturity, compassion and kindness. I am completely bowled over by her speech at the U.N and feel so proud of her! There is a lesson to learn for each one of us as we live in politically turbulent times and are subjected to climate of unrest and violence that creates vicious circle of hatred and negativity. Malala's words bring great hope and faith in my belief that goodness always wins.

Time will tell if this tragic incident of attempt on Malala's life would serve as tipping point to change anything in Pakistan and its politics and future. Malala's speech at the U.N is worth reading and deep contemplation without forgetting the fact that those are words of a young girl, barely sixteen, from a country where anyone who suggests reform of the draconian blasphemy laws risks death! Isn't it difficult to believe that someone could even think of harming a beautiful soul like her? Here are some gems from Malala's speech at the U.N:

"I do not even hate the Talib who shot me. Even if there was a gun in my hand and he was standing in front of me, I would not shoot him. This is the compassion I have learned from Mohammed, the prophet of mercy, Jesus Christ and Lord Buddha. This the legacy of change I have inherited from Martin Luther King, Nelson Mandela and Mohammed Ali Jinnah.

This is the philosophy of nonviolence that I have learned from Gandhi, Bacha Khan and Mother Teresa. And this is the forgiveness that I have learned from my father and from my mother. This is what my soul is telling me: be peaceful and love everyone."

"One child, one teacher, one book and one pen can change the world. Education is the only solution. Education first."

Malala said that the Taliban's attack on her nine months ago changed nothing in her life, except that "weakness, fear and hopelessness died."

Malala Yousafzai, salute to you girl! Thanks for being candle in the wind and igniting hope! God bless you! 

Shifting our nest

Past two weeks have been immensely crazy, bustling with activities making me scatter in all directions. We have shifted our house, yet again and I am busy setting it up. Its immensely exhaustive, frustrating and yet creatively gratifying experience for someone like me who absolutely loves decorating house. Well, its like having a huge blank canvas waiting to be painted!

Friends are surprised that I am not on shopping spree for the new house as it has bigger and better space and scope for "designing" . Well, its an office accommodation hence there is no point in investing in it beyond certain point. And for me, home is never a tool to flaunt an image. Instead of a show stopper house that boasts owners'"success" and "wealth", bearing stamps of the latest trends, I prefer a more personal space that resonates essence of the people who live there, even in most unstated corners.

What is the point in having a cold designer space, a "perfect" house from a photo shoot of some design magazine with the most impressive brand names if it is devoid of warmth? I love my home to be inviting where people feel welcome and absolutely cozy, at  ease with the spirit of the home. My home for me is a reflection of who I am and it holds charm of my understanding and aesthetic sense. Its a space that mirrors splendor of my heart and soul; a space where I am just happy to BE. The real embellishments are the little acts of love, care, sharing and lot of laughter of people that bring grace and beauty to the aesthetic of our home. 

As I try to decide places to keep objects gifted by loved ones and stray memorabilia that evoke personal stories, the real nature of who we as people really are is beautifully evoked. The scratches and marks on furniture that have not faded even after getting them polished, are the marks of the history very dear to heart. The glow of simple paper lights or aroma candle, the serene tidiness of the home  adorned with heady fragrance of fresh flowers or Auroville incense, a bigger "rangoli" at the entrance  transform a seemingly ordinary day into something remarkably spectacular, making family togetherness much more delightful. 

Fortunately, our previous house is in adjacent building so I am not going to miss out on the huge trees from the garden and lots of birds singing songs in gay abandon. I still wake up to the divine fragrance of fresh flowers and birds chirping at early mornings. And guess what, the new home allows great view including endless opportunities for star gazing! But more on my star gazing experiences, some other time. The carpenter has just arrived to mount some paintings on the wall. Its time to sign off.

They say change is good and I am so loving it!! 

Reconnecting with the roots

Many of us would know and might have experienced what connecting with one's root is like. Especially, if you live in a city and your native is in some remote village that was left almost half century ago by your forefathers and all that is left to it is nothing but remnants of history that once was part the family and a relative or two from the extended family who remained anchored there. The feeling of knowing that your bond is built on blood and history but no longer shares habit, context, values or enterprise is difficult to put in words. The encounters with those extended family members despite the warmth remains bit vague and uneasy for a simple reason that you realize you are neither a foreigner nor a stranger but mere misfit by design. 

At a social gathering recently, everybody was immersed in prolific conversation on various topics, enjoying the flow. The moment subject of native place was touched the discussion took an interesting turn striking an emotional chord. Out of all the people present, a very few had been to the places where their roots were. So when I narrated our experience of visiting hubby's native place in Gujarat, last month, there was lot of excitement followed by questions and awe. Everybody had some stories to share about their native place that they had witnessed/heard and that made rest of the evening a bit sentimental.

Isn't it amazing how we relate to the places of our roots when we visit them? Native place is something that peeks through one's memory of abstract connections forged years ago through strange things, associations that feel very distant, through endless stories told by grandparents about the world so different and far away yet in some strange way our very own. 

There is something about visiting our roots that leaves a compelling, indelible mark on one's psyche. And that is what I experience every time I visit my native place or that of my hubby. Last month, we paid visit to Tikar, a yearly visit for thanksgiving to the family deity from hubby's side. Since last two decades, I have been visiting this place regularly and the village still seems to stand still in time despite the subtle traces of urban influence that has fortunately not robbed soul of the place. 

Withering under half empty, lonely homes, whose younger generation has long gone in search of better livelihood, the village has managed to carry on with its problems and adding a few more with great élan. There is immense potential residing within the village yet in its weave and warp, it has remained almost unchanged. 

It is a home to simple, loving people with far less needs than most of us living in cities can ever imagine and still the people are much happier and have a pure, innocent smile! Life is strongly bound and playing quintessential host is an honour no one likes to miss. 

While hubby was busy with people gathering around him at every corner inviting him to their homes with great reverence, I lugged my camera to capture the moments pregnant with great stories. Here are a few stories of the small village Tikar. So what if the world is not even remotely aware of its existence?     

A small shop from where hubby's grandfather started his cotton business and flourished

Back door of remnants of the family ancestral home

Beautiful, colourful clothes adorned by the women here can give run to the fashion designers for their money!

A "chowk" in the village is the meeting place for everybody

Kids, in awe of the lens of my camera,  posed happily  and chased me everywhere

A visit to the village without having witnessed any marriage is incomplete. The village belles in pre wedding procession

One of those stunning scenes of a typical small town/village where one feels time standing still and understands meaning of silence

Every corner of the village can boast of such picturesque scene

Looking at Zen-like peace on face of the shepherd,  on the peak summer noon, one is tempted to ask him tips for Nirvana!

The elders in the village sit outside the house and talk to every passerby

A family of farm workers heading for  work in  scorching heat

Known as "deri" built on outskirts of the village as mark of respect for martyrs from Zala community who fought against the Muslim attackers

Kedarnath, the lonely shrine!

As I sit on my couch, watching deeply painful visuals streaming out of Kedarnath tragedy, my mind is transported back in 2001 at Ahmedabad; when earthquake shook my life and I faced Death for the first time! That traumatic experience made me realize how fragile and vulnerable our life is at any given moment! 

Watching people searching for their family and loved ones, numb with disbelief, crying while the television journalist focuses camera on them to capture that perfect moment of utter helplessness can make an indelible mark on your mind. Despite the heart wrenching pain, I can't stop watching the news in hope that somehow life at Uttarakhand would come back to normal and everybody stranded there will reach home safely. 

It is not easy to comprehend the impact, dimensions and magnitude of the destruction caused by flash floods, landslides and cloud bursts. Pilgrim sites are always vulnerable with overload of devotees and become potential venues for the tragedies when such calamities occur. The saddest part is our lackadaisical attitude of "sab kuch chalta hain" that is accommodating of just about everything. Everything is justified, even the most painful events and its outcome as "destiny". We accept all situations no matter how grave, as part of the HUGE chaos that India is and move on with life without any conscience of the irresponsible wrongs contributed with tokenism of endless rhetoric. Death, in India does not always find meaning or dignity it truly deserves.

Nature's fury is not the only cause for Uttarakhand tragedy. Many a lives would have been saved if we had well-oiled disaster management department that could act promptly without having to worry about political tug of war. It is understandable how challenging it is to handle disaster of such a magnitude considering the fact that there was no specific timing or warning of impending tragedy from Indian meteorology department or any other body. The contribution of Indian army as always is absolutely commendable! But what pains me most, is deaths caused due to sloth and criminal negligence in handling this calamity. I agree, a catastrophe of such a scale is very complex to deal with and is a nightmare for even the most advanced nations but for a nation like India that boasts of its nuclear power and space programmes, tragic lapses like complete lack of coordination in handling rescue work, delay in reaching out to the people who were stranded, lack of systems in place to predict weather and send the alert, unchecked and unplanned development are some of the issues that are unacceptable. 

Since the day this tragedy occurred, the pictures of unleashed rains cascading away human bodies, cattle, vehicles, homes and everything that comes in its way scroll on my mind. Picture of solitary Kedarnath shrine for me is yet another reminder of how fragile our life is. It is also a reminder that it is high time we purge whatever debris we are surrounded with literally and metaphorically.