Lighthouse Day

A moment of enlightenment. A moment of inspiration. A moment of pride.

This is what my final induction day was like. Lighthouse Day she said to call it. This woman, the epitome of women's empowerment, not through acts that scream feminism, but through acts that have made a difference. And truly she made a difference on this fateful day.

I have heard many orators, and a great proportion of these have had the ability to move me. But none, to this day, have moved me to tears. And this astounding woman hit two birds with one stone, when she evoked the greatest sense of national pride I have ever experienced.

This woman, whom I have insufficiently praised, is the one and only Dr. Kiran Bedi.

Her speech consisted not just the most awe inspiring words, but were delievered with the utmost passion and poignancy. Look at yourself and believe that you are the world. And that moment, I believed it more than anything else in the world.

So great an orator, she was able to elicit two very different emotions from this audience of fledging university students. She not only managed to raise our self confidence, but simultaneously humbled us. Living in a country where a great proportion of the population live under the poverty line, she advised us to remain sensitive to pain. She never asked us to donote monetary funds or materials, but told us to go and live amongst the poor - to clean the floors and care for the sick. Only the realization of the pains of those less fortunate than yourself will humble you.

She described the people as the heart of India, and introduced me to a stream of thought that I had never encountered before. In this period where I adjust to this change of environment, I awaited the moment where I would fall in love with this country. Yet never had I once fathomed that perhaps I should allow this country to fall in love with me. Never had I once strived to earn the love of my country. Never had I once believed that it was up to me to work for that love. I had always been the first to critcize the shortcomings of the land of my ancestors, yet refused to acknowledge those of my own. And I lay disppointed at my lack of sensitivity.

I will always remember these words as I reminisce upon this day. And I will remember the way I felt. Proud to be part of this Symbiosis family. Proud to be an Indian.

A Penman's Handicap

Often, in our lesser mastery of the English lauguage, we are unable to give due justice in our description of one of the greatest moments in our lives. I feel handicapped at this very moment, having typed the beginning of a blog I so desperately want to write for the third time now.

But I believe writing is a product of inspiration, and is at its best when in moments of such inspiration. To await this ray of sunshine too is time well wasted.

Therefore I search desperately for means to fuel this inspiration.

Gloomy Disorientation

It's gloomy outside. Transferred epithet comes to mind for inside I feel just as gloomy. Maybe staying at home the entire day isn't helping, however the view outside isn't really the Devil's temptation either. My view consists of wild green grass touched by areas of ungroomed trees, scattered rocks and pools of rain water. A flatmate just left the house, two huddled together in one room, and I alone listening to Five For Fighting's 100 years. And I stare out the window.

The clouds above are a palette for the shades of grey. And some of the buildings join in the display. The puddles ripple as rain drops patter on its surface, once again reminding me of the reason I refuse to step outside.

The cold seeps through the windows, and I shiver.

I can't seem to decide what song I want to listen to. I wonder if people ever do feel the emotions so profusely described in all songs. Aerosmith sings with convincing passion.

I don't wanna close my eyes
I don't wanna fall asleep 'cause I miss you baby
And I don't wanna miss a thing..

I look out the window once again. I contemplate my refusal to step outdoors. Perhaps it is a lack of invitation. Yet I believe the ability to go out lies in my own hands. And it is a willful decision, one that I will ponder over no longer.

I let the soothing strains of music calm me..

Air Indian Alcohol

An observation that struck me the most, even as I was still on the aircraft, was India's obsession with alcohol. Perhaps I am more aware of this owing to my Manglorean heritage. It is tradition for the men in the family, and sometimes the women even, to have a 'peg' every night. And more often than not, the singular form tends to the plural.

I first came upon this thought as I sat on my three hour journey to India on the national carrier - Air India. As the air hostess came to pass around refreshments, I noticed her enthusiasm at doling out large amounts of alcohol. Three glasses of whisky were offered to one person if they wished to have it and beer in equal quantities. When a single wine was asked for, she generously placed two miniature bottles. I refuse to believe that Air India is so profitable that it wishes to give off this much alcohol. And I wonder if the management has concoted strategies to get the passengers intoxicated. Perhaps once they are, they will not focus so much on the terrible food or service. Or perhaps they would no longer notice the aunty-looking air hostesses aboard the aircraft. That too can be the topic of a whole other blog. Whatever it may be, I found the need to intoxicate their passengers on a five o'clock flight highly amusing. I was very eager to voice my amusement, however refrained from doing so, only out of politeness. It sure did make up for the awful inflight movie, though. I remember it was called 'Lucky' but the large screen in the centre isle showed various explosions so perhaps it was meant to be ironical.

Air India sure does know how to entertain.

And perhaps it just introduces its passengers to this Indian tradition of consuming large amounts of alcohol. Realistically thinking about it, people all over the world drink. But let me substantiate India's obsession with it a little further.

As I jumped off the escalator and headed towards Passport Control, I caught the first sight of the Indian Duty Free. Without exaggeration, alcohol bottles of a variety of brands lined all the walls of the Duty Free. It appears that alcohol is the only good that is worth purchasing free of duty, for in this captalistic state, the large supply must only be to satiate large demand.

Continuing this trail of alcoholic amusement, it is most definitely amusing that a commodity I detest the most is the one that greets me at the entrance to the life I'm dreading the most.

Missing The Fantasy

I had no idea that the longing to go home would be this strong. I try desperately to be optimistic. Yet each time my thoughts drift back to Dubai and I know I am fighting a losing battle.

Optimism swoops in once again and I think perhaps I will lose the battle but surely not the war. But I do not know if it is the war of my life that I aim to win or the war of change.

I look out my window to see a place I never thought I would live in. Sure, India was home for a month once every two years. But being away from this place for three years has not made me long to be here.

Facing reality that I will have to make this my home, atleast for the next three years has made me rebellious. I was never the rebellious kind, and therefore when I say 'rebellious' I mean that smidgen of resentment that is etched in the corner of my mind and heart. I refuse to make this my home. It will never be home. Dubai will forever be my home and I will go back to it. These are the thoughts that possess me these days. And I strive to run away from them. Fighting a losing battle.

I hope this is only a phase. And I guess I'm following Nature's Process of one that has been moved from its habitat. I hope some day in the near future I can look back on this day and laugh at these thoughts that plauge my mind at this moment.

Upon reaching India, I found myself constantly comparing every little detail. Complaining may be a way to vent out that frustration. I never do like to build up frustration.

Everything is different here. The roads, the people, the weather, the buildings, the food, the beds, the homes. Every thing I see and touch is different, so different that I remember how it used to be. I remember the comforts. And my mind, body and heart ache for familiarity.
I've written before that my friend described India as 'real.'

But if this is reality, I'd opt for the fantasy any day.

My Last Night

The hullabaloo experienced prior to any journey has materialised in my home today. A picture of chaos it truly is: clothes strewn around desperately attempting to make their way into an overflooded suitcase; a laptop being fed with all the necessary files; KFC buckets filled with paper plates and plastics waiting to be chucked into the garbage bag; plastic covers and pieces of rope spread across the floor, to cover boxes in what can truly be referred to as 'Indian Packing'.

And I, a lonesome figure, try to grasp a smidgen of sanity.

The wee hours of the night crawl by and my attempt to find some inner calm feels so futile. One of the best ways out is to find that friend who you can chatter on endlessly with, allow him to drive you to some corner of city you never knew existed, and just sit. Just sit. And watch the city lights. And the occasional car pass by. Talk about the good times in the past, and the times ahead. Listen to the radio. And just allow yourself to be washed over by the calmness of the dead night outside. And you feel yourself relax.

I came home late at night feeling this extraordinary sense of gratitude. Perhaps it is directed at the Being seated in the Clouds of Heaven. Or perhaps at the people in my life.

I am grateful for the life I have had till this day - for the good and the bad. I am grateful for every single person in my life. But most of all, my gratitude lies for the times ahead. Once percieved as the bane of my future, it is now that opportune door.

My mind sometimes attempts to pull me back to 'reality': Are you just trying to see the silver lining?

My heart begs to differ: There's not a dark cloud in the sky.

Post Change Period

What is required of oneself in a Post-Change Period is adjustment. And, unfortunately, this isn't the easiest of tasks.

It is said familiarity breeds understanding. Perhaps this is the canyon that has been gouged between a bunch of close knit friends this past year - the lack of familiarity.

The concequence? Misunderstanding.

Relationships take work. It takes effort to get accustomed to being around a person once again- to remember their old habits and make room for their new ones.

What should be remembered is the destination. A little bit of effort produces a lifelong friendship, one that you can square your shoulders, stand tall and say has survived the distance. Believe me when I say, the effort is worth it.

A Reason, A Season Or A Lifetime?

Before you leave a person, there are often so many things you want to say to them. You have made a difference to the person I am today. Thank you for the laughter. Thank you for the fights. Thank you for the memories. Many sleepless nights have been crawled through with thoughts of the impending separation. But when you are right there, at that moment, the rehearsed thoughts refuse to metamorphose into words. And your mind resembles a blank piece of paper, while a War Of The Emotions wages deep in your heart.

I detest goodbyes. Last year I faced a succession of goodbyes in the span of a week. And I was weak.

A year and many, many moments of tears later, I feel stronger. The tears had come from fear of the future. But I have learnt that with sufficient work, friendships do last the distance. The necessity for fear and the subsequent tears therefore no longer exists. And I am glad.

A really wise friend of mine, who has a knack for saying the most perfect words at the most perfect moments, said to remember that friendships are for 'a reason, a season or a lifetime.' I am just hoping our relationship is the latter most.

I remember saying that insecurity is a bitch. And after you are screwed over a couple of times, insecurity sets in faster and trust slower. But it is in moments like these, when you realise that you have been a significant part of somebody's life, that you feel completely secure.

Tonight, I shall sleep well.

Talking About Relationships

What I like most about relationships, any kind of relationship, is getting to know the other person. There comes a point where you can instinctively envisage a person's reaction to a particular incident - what he or she will say or do. And there's a tremendous amount of joy, atleast for me, in knowing someone so well.

Sure, it's not an overnight process. In my case it has taken me 13 years. Some have been much quicker. But only time lays the foundation to strong relationships.

Being in a very reminiscent frame of mind, considering these are my last ten days in Dubai, my thoughts have been of my intentions for my future.

May I have the wisdom to segregate the real from the deceptive. And may I have the strength to hold onto what is real.

Money Matters

I guess we can consider it luck when a person is born into a rich family and their life's path laid down for them in advance. Good education, good jobs, good money - all set in stone. And then there are those 'unlucky' ones, who have to cut out the tall grass and scrape a path for themselves.

With money you have no problems.

It is difficult to gauge the truth in the statement. It is rather relative. But as I see it, it's untrue. Life's issues will always surface. All the money in the world didn't save a woman's life from an infection. All the money in the world will not buy you the happiness you get when you hold your little nephew in your arms. Sitting around a table and laughing with your friends cannot be bought with money.

Sure, wealth brings about a certain degree of comfort and security. But what is life without a bit of struggle? How boring is it to walk a neatly paved path as opposed to deciding the stones and direction of your path yourself? My friend's comment that life in India is real comes to me once again. And I feel blessed.

At this point, where a great issue of the world is the income chasm that exists, a more appropriate distribution of wealth is required. Live 8, held a few days ago, aimed at creating awareness of the poverty levels in Africa. Bono, U2's lead singer, articulated Live8's theme as 'making history by making poverty history.' He then probably got into a stretched limo and perhaps stayed at one of the priciest hotels in London.
Poverty cannot be eradicated. There will always be people who have more money than they need and those that do not have enough.

I made a comment last night that earned me a 'yeah right' look. I don't think I ever want to be that rich. My intentions may be right, however when the fantasy of Prada, DKNY and Gucci is within reach, morals take a backseat. Greed is infact one of humanity's greatest flaws.

I hope I shall be able to hold true to my intentions. I hope I accumulate a fair share of wealth and live with the knowledge that I am not the reason another person is deprived.

Love: An Illusion

Until our first heartbreak, I feel most people bask in their own naviety, that there is one person out there for them and that the one true love is as magical as it is in the movies.

My first love was that movie love. All the songs you hear suddenly make more sense and every enchanting fairytale emotion is yours. And the greatest traitor of all, your gut, tells you that this is 'so right' for you. So astounding a feeling can only be real, right?

Love can sometimes be magic. But magic can sometimes just be an illusion.
--Unknown

So apt, isn't it?

The Real World

It's nice when you get together with a friend and talk about Life. There is a certain comfort in knowing that there is someone else out there who views the world in a similar way.

A couple of weeks away from embarking upon my university life, I asked her what India was like. Her reply, I believe, can only be applied to India. Real is what she said it was. Life in Dubai is a fantasy. And only after stepping out of the comfort zone that we live in, will we know how big the world really is.

Running out in the rain, crashing into an auto with your bike and just getting up and going on with life, standing in an overcrowded train - things you can do only in India. In addition, there will be those new 'being independant' experiences - washing your own clothes, cleaning your own bathrooms, cooking. It's overwhelming sometimes. And sometimes it's scary. And sometimes, it even seems like fun.

Anticipating university life is truly one big melting pot of emotions. I've been told to enjoy it all though - the good times and the bad. To enjoy the experience. To enjoy living in the real world.

Looks Do Matter

Looks do matter.

This is not a belief of my own, but a nuance that governs the mind of many. You have advertisments on television for products that will enable you to 'look good.' The focus is on externalities. I guess that is why we have religion. To remind us that life is not just skin deep.

Tomorrow I will go for Mass and believe that I am beautiful.