It was Christmas, some nine years ago, that I wrote about finding hope in Frodo's arduous journey and Sam's unwavering loyal companionship. It was a phase of life that made me relate to Frodo's declaration of "I can't do this".
It's another December, not too far from Christmas too, that I watch and write about trying to figure out how to trudge through more I-can't-do-this situations in life. Over the years, I've watched the Lord of the Rings trilogy more times than I can remember. This evening, the phase of life I am in makes the the re-watching experience add proof to that well-know phrase 'life comes full circle'.
Yeah, life's come full circle and how.
My battle with personal hardships then had my parents and siblings be the Sam to my Frodo. Now, I have an addition to that company. I could not be more grateful and thankful for my real-life Sam - my life partner - who matches Samwise Gamgee in support, loyalty, companionship and encouragement. It's still a battle with personal hardships - new ones this time around, because what is life with all sun and no clouds every now and then? As we navigate my I-can't-do-this situation, my Sam reminds me of our love for each other, our taking care of each other and our lasting partnership for life. There's strength that you draw from knowing you are loved and cared for and that a trusted someone close to you has your back.
Sam stood true to his character and word. He made a promise to not leave Frodo and did just that. Frodo allowed and accepted Sam's loyal effort in helping him through the journey. To Frodo's every gloomy "I don't suppose we'll ever see them again", there was Sam's balancing "We may yet, Mr. Frodo. We may".
And so, yeah, there come points in your life every now and then when sometimes you become your own Samwise Gamgee and help yourself through your perilous journey. Sometimes, you allow a Samwise Gamgee - be it your family or a film or an author - to help you change the I-can't to an I-can. And other times, when you get lucky, it's you and that special someone that you choose to share the rest of your life with that complete the perilous trip to Mordor and back together, successfully.
Saturday, 22 December 2018
Monday, 22 October 2018
We shall overcome
'...Ruthi taqdeerein toh kya,
Tooti shamsheerein toh kya,
Tooti shamsheeron se hi,
Tooti shamsheerein toh kya,
Tooti shamsheeron se hi,
Kar har maidan fateh...'
Learning from parting
Life has a way of testing you repeatedly in similar ways.
But hey, Life, I can beat ya this time!
The absolute hardest test of my life was leaving home, hearth and loved ones (which included, most definitely, my cat) to begin life on foreign shores. Losing a parent followed soon. Strangely enough, the act of cutting physical ties and moving from home steeled me for successive life tests like no other. I probably would not have been able to make it through the loss of a parent in as stoic of a manner as I did had it not been for going through the pain and torment of that first real test life put me through.
And then, life has a curious way of coming full circle.
I face the same test - again. With the looming prospect of travel, albeit short-lived and temporary, I feel the old pain making a revisit. Never in my wildest dreams did I imagine it would be the other way around - that a piece of my heart would get left behind on those very same foreign shores, the journey to which had shattered my heart into smithereens. And that that piece of my heart would cause me the same ache as that first journey across the seven seas.
But yes, this time, Life, I've learnt. I've learnt resiliency from the very lessons you taught me. I will be fine. That magnificent being, to whom that piece of my heart belongs, will be fine. The proof lies in the pudding, Life, the proof lies in the pudding. Where earlier, Dickinson's tragic 'parting is all we need to know of hell' would have reverberated in my soul, today, Gibran's more pragmatic 'ever has it been that love knows not its own depth until the hour of separation' and George Elliot's 'only in the agony of parting do we look into the depths of love' resonate with me.
Here's to learning and growing.
But hey, Life, I can beat ya this time!
The absolute hardest test of my life was leaving home, hearth and loved ones (which included, most definitely, my cat) to begin life on foreign shores. Losing a parent followed soon. Strangely enough, the act of cutting physical ties and moving from home steeled me for successive life tests like no other. I probably would not have been able to make it through the loss of a parent in as stoic of a manner as I did had it not been for going through the pain and torment of that first real test life put me through.
And then, life has a curious way of coming full circle.
I face the same test - again. With the looming prospect of travel, albeit short-lived and temporary, I feel the old pain making a revisit. Never in my wildest dreams did I imagine it would be the other way around - that a piece of my heart would get left behind on those very same foreign shores, the journey to which had shattered my heart into smithereens. And that that piece of my heart would cause me the same ache as that first journey across the seven seas.
But yes, this time, Life, I've learnt. I've learnt resiliency from the very lessons you taught me. I will be fine. That magnificent being, to whom that piece of my heart belongs, will be fine. The proof lies in the pudding, Life, the proof lies in the pudding. Where earlier, Dickinson's tragic 'parting is all we need to know of hell' would have reverberated in my soul, today, Gibran's more pragmatic 'ever has it been that love knows not its own depth until the hour of separation' and George Elliot's 'only in the agony of parting do we look into the depths of love' resonate with me.
Here's to learning and growing.
Saturday, 22 September 2018
Exercising and Mother Abbess Wisdom
Exercising is more mind over body than just body. There's that saying - where the mind goes, the body follows. Like any other achievement in life, exercising needs a combination of will power and effort. And that's easier said than done. It takes nothing short of Mother Abbess' exhortation to 'climb every mountain, search high and low, follow every byway, every path you know...ford every stream' to find a dream that 'will need all the love you can give every day of your life for as long as you live.'
Granted, it may be a bit dramatic to apply this score to the slightly mundane goal of getting yourself out of bed at six-thirty in the morning to put yourself through an hour-long gruelling workout. And what is gruelling anyway? It's probably just a perception - your mind telling you that your body can't do those sixteen squats asked of you. But hey, isn't the song about overcoming whatever holds you back from getting where you want to be? And if bigger wins start coming your way because of these smaller wins you're trying hard and achieving by being all fired up from a song, what's so wrong about that?
The Sound of Music is one of my favourite-est movies. Growing up, watching this movie on video cassette a million times with family is now one of the loveliest memories I have and makes up one of the best experiences of my life lived. Last evening adds to those memories. It was a peaceful, happy three hours watching the movie for the million-plus-one-th time with Mom. Throughout the movie, I kept grabbing pen and paper because I just had to write down a line spoken here or a lyric sung there that made me go, "I love this!". Each of those lines meant something to me.
Here's that collection:
'I always try to keep faith in my doubts, Sister Berthe.'
'To laugh like a brook as it trips and falls over stones on its way...'
Maria: 'And what's worse, I can't seem to stop saying things. Anything I think and feel.'
Mother Superior: 'Some people would call that honesty.'
'Well, when anything bothers me and makes me unhappy, I try to think of nice things.'
'The thing to do nowadays is to get along with everyone.'
Granted, it may be a bit dramatic to apply this score to the slightly mundane goal of getting yourself out of bed at six-thirty in the morning to put yourself through an hour-long gruelling workout. And what is gruelling anyway? It's probably just a perception - your mind telling you that your body can't do those sixteen squats asked of you. But hey, isn't the song about overcoming whatever holds you back from getting where you want to be? And if bigger wins start coming your way because of these smaller wins you're trying hard and achieving by being all fired up from a song, what's so wrong about that?
The Sound of Music is one of my favourite-est movies. Growing up, watching this movie on video cassette a million times with family is now one of the loveliest memories I have and makes up one of the best experiences of my life lived. Last evening adds to those memories. It was a peaceful, happy three hours watching the movie for the million-plus-one-th time with Mom. Throughout the movie, I kept grabbing pen and paper because I just had to write down a line spoken here or a lyric sung there that made me go, "I love this!". Each of those lines meant something to me.
Here's that collection:
'I always try to keep faith in my doubts, Sister Berthe.'
'To laugh like a brook as it trips and falls over stones on its way...'
Maria: 'And what's worse, I can't seem to stop saying things. Anything I think and feel.'
Mother Superior: 'Some people would call that honesty.'
'Well, when anything bothers me and makes me unhappy, I try to think of nice things.'
'The thing to do nowadays is to get along with everyone.'
Wednesday, 12 September 2018
All the Different You's
It's so interesting to observe the 'you' you are now compared to you a few years ago.
Growing up, spicy food was an integral part of life. The more fiery, the better. Our family had a pretty high threshold for hot food compared to our relatives who were often left surprised at the amount of heat in our meals. I remember our family as being right up there with, or perhaps just a couple notches below the spiciest-food lovers in our region who enjoyed Andhra cuisine - a cuisine well known for its ability to set your mouth aflame. Back then, I could barely imagine eating more than one meal in a day that was bland in taste. Now, I cannot eat more than a few morsels of food that are as hot as the food I grew up eating.
Today, what I would have considered mildly-spiced food, set the insides of my stomach on fire. This stomach-in-flames feeling is not entirely new to me. I've experienced it when I ate food that exceeded the already high levels of heat I was used to in my growing-up years. However, I had a far higher tolerance for that burn too. I could go about my daily chores and be functional despite the discomfort.
Now, all I could think of was a way for someone to use a fire extinguisher in my stomach to put out the blaze immediately! My mind knew that I got through a lot worse than the current situation; that I have it in me to get through this one too. But, something in me didn't want to do it anymore.
I attribute this change to a couple of things. First, as I've gotten older, I've found I've begun having a lower tolerance for s*** in life, in general. (My writing too is undergoing change - I now incorporate profanity when earlier there was none!). Second, life is all about perception. Maybe in that cocooned world of my earlier life, my limited life experiences placed the spice level I was used to at the top of the spicy-food hierarchy. Now, having travelled about and experienced more - maybe the perception of having grown up eating really hot foods was just that, a perception. Maybe I always only ate medium-spiced food all the while thinking that my palette was used to and could brave highly-spiced food.
Well, my changing palette makes me love the fact that I'm having it all. I experienced one end of the food spectrum and I now I get to experience the other.
Growing up, spicy food was an integral part of life. The more fiery, the better. Our family had a pretty high threshold for hot food compared to our relatives who were often left surprised at the amount of heat in our meals. I remember our family as being right up there with, or perhaps just a couple notches below the spiciest-food lovers in our region who enjoyed Andhra cuisine - a cuisine well known for its ability to set your mouth aflame. Back then, I could barely imagine eating more than one meal in a day that was bland in taste. Now, I cannot eat more than a few morsels of food that are as hot as the food I grew up eating.
Today, what I would have considered mildly-spiced food, set the insides of my stomach on fire. This stomach-in-flames feeling is not entirely new to me. I've experienced it when I ate food that exceeded the already high levels of heat I was used to in my growing-up years. However, I had a far higher tolerance for that burn too. I could go about my daily chores and be functional despite the discomfort.
Now, all I could think of was a way for someone to use a fire extinguisher in my stomach to put out the blaze immediately! My mind knew that I got through a lot worse than the current situation; that I have it in me to get through this one too. But, something in me didn't want to do it anymore.
I attribute this change to a couple of things. First, as I've gotten older, I've found I've begun having a lower tolerance for s*** in life, in general. (My writing too is undergoing change - I now incorporate profanity when earlier there was none!). Second, life is all about perception. Maybe in that cocooned world of my earlier life, my limited life experiences placed the spice level I was used to at the top of the spicy-food hierarchy. Now, having travelled about and experienced more - maybe the perception of having grown up eating really hot foods was just that, a perception. Maybe I always only ate medium-spiced food all the while thinking that my palette was used to and could brave highly-spiced food.
Well, my changing palette makes me love the fact that I'm having it all. I experienced one end of the food spectrum and I now I get to experience the other.
Saturday, 4 August 2018
Mamma Mia
It was the most glorious time today, watching Mamma Mia, Here We Go Again with Mom. Such a carefree vacation! The theatre was mostly empty. Other patrons were family people just like us - a retired Mom and daughter and retired couples. One kind patron, Angel, thanked us for sharing the viewing experience with her. We oooh-ed and aaah-ed together after the movie, delighting at the beautiful scenery, pretty clothes and timeless Abba music. She told me to make sure I took my Mom out for further expeditions. Her daughter does the same for her and she said, “you young people are the ones to take us out.” Mom liked that she gave me her dua, “God bless you.”
There were times through the movie when the audience in the theatre erupted into joyful clapping. It was an audience that had assembled together ready and open to be moved to exuberant highs and low lows.
Oh! It was all so glorious.
It’s the simplest of days doing simple things that bring the most pleasure.
Wednesday, 4 July 2018
Family
The older I get and the farther away I am from them, the more I value family.
For the first time in a long, long time - some seven years - the majority of my family got to spend some time together. It was good, it felt like the cliched 'old times'. Family brings so much variety to life, to the dinner table, to shopping experiences and to perspectives.
It's a good summer. There's sun, warmth - or, heat, maybe! - food, family and, I feel like getting back to writing again. I've found that my writing impulses are triggered most during phases of life when I feel emotion stronger than usual. This summer, my heart's soaring.
Shukrana.
For the first time in a long, long time - some seven years - the majority of my family got to spend some time together. It was good, it felt like the cliched 'old times'. Family brings so much variety to life, to the dinner table, to shopping experiences and to perspectives.
It's a good summer. There's sun, warmth - or, heat, maybe! - food, family and, I feel like getting back to writing again. I've found that my writing impulses are triggered most during phases of life when I feel emotion stronger than usual. This summer, my heart's soaring.
Shukrana.