Loss

Recently, a childhood friend of mine lost his father. This friend is one of the most eccentric, funny, loving men that I have known. We went together on our first day of school. He grew up an introvert, me an extrovert. Somewhere along the way, we lost touch, then again, we found each other. One of those people you can open your heart to. You could meet him after years and feel like you saw him yesterday.
He grew up a nerd, did everything differently. Today, he works at CERN.

He told me last week he lost his Dad. His Appa.

I was stunned. His father was young and in good health. But life is such. This one is for you Achintya.

Achintya, I wish there was a way I could make it better for you. I know you miss Appa. I wish it wasn't meant to be this way. I wish I could hug you till the pain went away. It pains me when I see you smile through your pain, making sure others are comfortable. It hurts when I see that you can't grieve easily. I wish you would. I know how loss feels. There are still days when I wish my grandfather was here to see what I've grown to become. He taught me all that I know. There is an empty feeling. He passed away in front of me, and it hurt so much.

We all have to move on. We all don't want to.

I just wish you'd let yourself go.

I love you and will be here always.

Hugs,
me.

The existential dilemma

In the process of writing the above essay, I've had to force myself to do a fair amount of self introspection. I was struggling to write the essay forever, every time I managed to write something, it lacked conviction. Day before yesterday I couldn't sleep restfully. I was squirming in bed all night, tossing and turning. Then yesterday it struck me. I realized the reason I was struggling with the essay was not because I didn't know what to write, it was because I truly didn't have any idea of where I wanted to see myself three years down the line. In fact, I have no clue about what I want to do in life. I'm goalless. The classic existential dilemma.


I've always wanted to know what my true calling is. What is the one thing that I can do day and night, tirelessly, with full enthusiasm, that will make me feel like my life has purpose? The question occurred to me when I was sixteen. I had finished my board exams, and had to take my first big decision. Science, arts or commerce? One part of me wanted to chuck it all and pursue a diploma in Indian classical dance. But I was afraid of treading off the beaten track. After very little thinking, I decided I would continue in the science stream because it had maximum flexibility. I could switch anytime I wanted. First mistake. I should have forced myself to think properly then. After twelfth, I found myself sitting in a microbiology class, not understanding one syllable of what the professor was saying. I bolted after a month. First time I realized that I could figure out clearly what wasn't working for me. I joined electrical engineering, again I must admit without much thought. But it turned out to be a good decision. The first class I sat for, even though I hated the subject and the teacher, I felt I was in the right place. By second year, I developed a liking for electrical subjects. I'll even go so far as to say some of the subjects fascinated me. There were days I read Boylestead all day, and realized the time only at night.

My single goal in engineering was to get a job. I wanted financial independence. Clear and simple. I realized that money was what I wanted. Sad in many ways, but there it is. Not that I didn't have interests. Fabrics fascinated me. I guess I got that by looking at my mother's saris. I dreamed of my own store, where there were reams of silk, muslin and all sorts of exotic cloth, and people could come and create their own personalized dresses with the help of a designer who worked with the store. But I knew nothing and nobody in the field, and after making detailed notes on the idea for a month, I gave up.

Third year, I got into student placement. Most memorable time of my engineering days when Jobin and me sat in the placement cell, collating data, discussing about companies. Great fun.I got into L&T and thought it was a big deal. Finally, financial independence was within reach.

I started work. My first group was nuclear power plants. Great people, good fun.Spent four months there. Then, rather unceremoniously, I was chucked out. I found myself in submarine design. Not bad, it has the cool factor. But here I am, after almost three years in submarines. I'm not saying it's boring. It's actually quite interesting. Fascinating really. But my heart isn't in it.I was just going where life took me, never taking control in my own hands. Never realized I could.

When I started work, I also brought some craft supplies and started making bookmarks. I actually got pretty good. Stick man managed to start a small enterprise. World of muffet's designs I called it. Stick man calls me muffet. I think we made all of five hundred grand rupees. I'm positive I spent more than that. To cut a long story short, it fizzled out.

I want to break free now. I think it will be interesting to do an MBA. Management as a subject has always interested me. It is the one skill that can make or break an idea. I am itching to sit in a classroom again, and learn. Take notes, study how business models failed or made it, stuff like that.

What I really want to do in terms of a career? Well, I'd like to start a small cozy cafe. There'll primarily be desserts, but also coffee and savories. I'm happiest when I'm making a chocolate cake or a pasta in the kitchen. I could do it for hours and hours and then sleep with a smile on my face. I may not be a great cook, but I'm willing to do what it takes.

I can't very well write that in the essay. I have no capital or expertise to start a cafe. It will fall flat. And apart from that, what can I do that makes me happy? I don't know.

Do I need to know my path from this moment itself? Is there not some joy in discovering things one step at a time? Is it so important to have a goal? There seem to be infinite possibilities. I'm unable to pick one right now.

What's my career goal, the essay asks me? I don't even know what my goal in life is, dammit. I'm facing an existential dilemma. I never asked myself what I wanted, where my heart was, that sort of stuff. Too much introspection makes me nervous because it makes me aware of my shortcomings. I've always run away from introspection. Now, to solve the existential dilemma, I must confront myself. God help me. Someone help me.

GOING BACK TO COLLEGE

So, for the last three years, I've been building submarines. Damn cool innit? Yes. Damn cool.

In so many ways it still is. But I guess I've been doing the same thing for some time now and feel like a change. I want to sit in a classroom, be naughty, learn. LEARN. 

That's what I remember most about college. That knowingly or unknowingly, I was ALWAYS learning. In class I was learning about motors and transmission lines. Outside class, I was discovering myself, my likes and dislikes, my strengths and weaknesses. I was a sponge, aware of everything and just drinking it all in. Not a day passed by in four years when I didn't learn something new.

When I was in college, I looked forward to going to work. I wanted to be a woman of the world. I wanted financial independence. I wanted to take big decisions, change things. I wanted to create, I wanted to destroy. I thought that's what people who work do. 

I wasn't entirely wrong, but I was disappointed. I got the opportunity to work and be part of India's second indigenous nuclear submarine. I was proud to be part of that team. I still am. Immensely. But I realize it is not so for everybody. There are people for whom its just a job as any other. People who are too busy blaming each other for delays. No one sits up and says, " OK, we screwed up and the project is delayed. Lets pull our socks up and get going. This is a question of our country's security."

Do they not realize, this is not a regular job? This is different. Here we are building something that will guard us and country's coastline from those who do not care for us. This submarine will be the reason we sleep peacefully at night.

When I look at those people in our team, I wonder whether it is right of me to be so judgmental of them. Someone I respect very much at work once told me, that in time, all jobs become just that. A job. Routine, monotonous, boring. You can't help it. Yes, I can't blame them. After all, did they also not join this department with stars in their eyes? Did they also not feel proud that they were contributing towards the country's needs? Did the system not kill their enthusiasm, slowly, just as it does mine now?

Yes, I've seen bright people, intelligent, people who wanted to make a difference. People who saw beyond trivialities and realized this job was different. People, who got crushed by the system and eventually left. I'm not just talking about the people at my workplace. I know a naval commander and a lieutenant commander I met only once. I barely knew them. But in that brief encounter, I sensed their helplessness. They wanted to do so much, and they tried so hard, and the system beat them every single time. Both men retired from the forces early. I know bright young engineers who joined my department, and wrote programs and implemented systems and processes which are indispensable today. They've all left. No one recognized them, or their effort.

I still find submarines fascinating. I'm really lucky to be in this field. There is so much to do. But I distinctly feel myself growing dull, rusting. I'm not learning. Its becoming like any other job. 

I want to go back to college. Learn new things. Arm myself with knowledge, with the ability to change things. I'll come back to submarines, I'm not done with them yet. But I hope college will make me someone who can make a difference. I hope I come back to the submarine industry to be pleasantly surprised. Countries like Pakistan and China seem to have an assembly line for submarine manufacturing. The problem with India is that each of us is too caught up in our own problems. We need to change our perspective, see the bigger picture.

I need to become that adventurous, free spirited, thirsty for learning girl again. I need to find myself again. Its the only way ahead. The only way. I need to go back to college.

wake up call

As i stepped into this new year from the old, I wondered at how much had happened in my life. Rather eventful, I must say.

There were dreams and hopes I had last year that got crushed just as I was welcoming the new year. I was experiencing the sweetest dream of my life, and I had to wake up.

There are now new dreams, far more important, that I must now focus on.

I've been a child far too long now. I must grow up. I need a crash course in maturity. Right NOW.

I have been blessed with so many friends who love me more than I really deserve. They travel for hours in hot dusty trains to see me. They meet me just to ask how I'm doing. They come from Chennai, Gujarat, Andhra Pradesh, everywhere.

They carried me through my school years. They loved me no matter how difficult I was and have been.

They are my pillars of strength. And I've abused that to the hilt.

So, if you're reading this, then know that i love you, all of you, immensely, and always have. All the time you worried about my happiness and I never once asked how things were going with you.

All of them had far more important things to deal with, emotionally and otherwise, yet I never bothered once.I have been selfish.

Everyone who loved me, I took them for granted.

Someone recently made me realize this, and I shall be ever grateful to him. Every minute I spent with him has taught me something new, and I shall cherish all those wonderful moments. He is a most wonderful person.

He put me back on track. Where I should be. And I do hope I shall not wander again.

I must introspect again.

WHAT DO WE WANT?/ GROWING UP

I've spent a whole five minutes wondering how the hell to start. Dunno if the title is ok. So here goes nothing.

 

Childhood is very simple. Everyone takes decisions for you. You aren't aware enough to care whether these are good or bad for you, so you accept everything that is given with faith and happiness.

But we can’t afford to be children for too long, you know. Someday, we start wanting things of our own accord. "I want to live alone, I want a car, I don't want people to meddle, I want to travel the world, go to the Himalayas, be Richard Branson and Audrey Hepburn, all at the same time". So we start taking our own decisions.

 

Some decisions are easy, some are not, but they have to be taken. With freedom and money, responsibility also comes along. But it does so very, very quietly. Most of us don't realise its presence. And when we refuse to do so inspite of knowing, it puts us through hell and high water...

Sometimes our elders refuse to allow us to grow up and be responsible. No father ever wants to lose his daughter and no mother wants to let go of her boy. But these are the very people who do their children more harm than good.

I've been very lucky, because I had the opportunity to grow, I got freedom at the right time, I got hurt, I made friends, I fell down flat, then got up, dusted myself and moved on to learn better. Every experience I've had has contributed to me becoming more responsible, a more complete person. I'm still discovering myself and I've barely scratched the surface, but the journey is simply brilliant. Sometimes it’s exhilarating, sometimes it almost kills me. But I’ve learnt that I must allow myself every experience to become who I am. Who I can be.

Today, I have all the freedom I want. Sometimes it scares me crazy. Totally creeps me out. I am all too aware of the responsibilities that come along with it, and I’m afraid I may not live up to myself, forget others.

I still have trouble picking out a pair of jeans or ordering from the menu when I go out with friends. I barely know what I want, and i DEFINITELY DO NOT KNOW what’s good or bad for me.

Sometimes I wonder, what the hell am I to do with so much freedom? I don’t know what I want! There are some people I’ve met who seem so cocksure about what they want in life, and I feel jealous of them. Really, if we all had all the freedom we wanted, would we know exactly what to do with it? I've even met someone who has all the freedom, but wishes there were something/ someone to hold him back, because he feels his freedom is slowly losing its value.

Growing up. Freedom. What we want and what we don't. All intertwined in one great unending, messy, bittersweet web that we all call LIFE.

PS: tintin is getting to be a really good pal. I’ve found my hero in the department kinda sorta wish i could be a bit more like him:) i've taken over tintin's seat. Full kabza!:) vendetta takes a lot of nonsense from me, poor thing will be bald soon! Feels good to talk to stick man. Have to call calculator man. It’s been a long time. Have to make more bookmarks to avoid expedition and be happy. And I want a big yellow book instead of a gaudy screaming pink book!

trying to stay afloat :)

On the 11th of january, i was transferred from my happy job to my sad job. "Underwater?" , I asked. "Are you mad? I dont even know how to stay afloat, forget swimming".

"Oh it'll be great!", they said. Bloody HR guys, so out of touch with any human emotion.

So, for the first few weeks, I resisted. I fought with myself, I screamed from inside. I went mad. Then, suddenly, one day, I gave up. Simply. Just like that. I came home and started making bookmarks. I decided that my job did not dictate my life.

And well, to my surprise, when I stopped resisting, I started floating. I slowly am finding myself again. I smile in the mornings. I read coelho, discuss his theories with like minded people. I'm reading a lot now. Something I never had much time for in college. Feels nice.

I'm finding things to be happy about.

I call stick man and smile when I hear his voice. I found someone who can write really good mails for the bookmarks. Stick man says its part of the bookmarketing :).

Right now, life is mixed. There are undercurrents, but the surface is smooth. And I dont mean this in a sinister way. All I'm saying is, when I stopped worrying, everything fell in its place. Things took care of themselves.

Sometimes I forget that god is there. I forget that he's the one taking the decisions, and guiding me. I'm his child, his precious child, and he will take care of me always. I pray now that even if sometimes I forget to hold his hand, he must hold mine.

When I was under a torrent of worries and emotions recently, I kept trying to find solutions. Then I remembered him. I simply poured it out to him. To my mister god. And I know i'll be ok. Simple, blind, unswerving faith. I'll be taken care of. God simply wont let go of me.

I must never ever forget him.Ever.

cherished practices and some realisations

I love the music flowing into my ears, (I realised this just two days ago) like a rippling river, while my eyes are closed. I feel light, my spirit lifts. Its almost like I'm flying.
The above is, of course, subject to the music being good.(read: no rock/heavy metal/death metal/ any other type of metal or minerals)
I love soft, lilting classical music.(read: Kadri Gopalnath's saxophone, Morning Raaga).

Every morning, during my bus ride to office, I pass the lakes at Airoli and Powai. The sight fills me with a deep sense of calm and peace. Its lovely and well.... quite indescribable.

I'm grateful and thank god everyday for giving me such a wonderful bunch of people at work. My seniors and my bosses (rocker J and Drummer J), they allow me to still be a college student, indulging all my childish and immature whims and fancies, never berating me even once. They dont even raise their eyebrows in dissapproval.

I love roaming the markets and streets aimlessly with my mom on fridays and saturdays.

I realise that i'm basically a very intense, passionate person, in all respects. When i'm sad, i'm deathly sad. When i'm lonely, I can literally hug trees or kiss my pillow for keeping me company. When I dance, I can go on till I drop dead. When i'm happy, I can literally clap my hands in glee like a kid who got her favorite icecream. When I feel peace, i'm the Dalai Lama.

I'm looking for substitutes for clapping my hands.( I sense its not very becoming of me).

I LOVE ICE-CREAM.

I type with two fingers.
I'm mellowing down in many ways.

I love having pasta and sizzlers for lunch with stick man, calculator man, and ice man for company.

I love having pasta and sizzlers, for dinner with my school gang of girls who are practically my soul mates now.

I'm afraid, nay, phobic about commitment. This has a few exceptions, understandably. but then again, you cant expect Milind Soman, Richard Gere, or Mickey Mouse to fall for you.

Making bookmarks makes me feel contented and peaceful.

I love playing "mendikot" (a card game) throughout the night into the wee hours of the morning with my college friends. Even though I lose almost always.

I love reading and devour books with an unbelievable ferocity. They transport me to another world, make me lose track of time.

When a certain "honey" flavoured person I just met for a few minutes, remembers me enough to search me out with great effort, it makes me feel nice. Heck, who does'nt like attention and wooing? I'm pleasantly surprised though, I always thought I was a plain jane.

Shit, I still haven't finished the specifications for distribution boards, LT switchgear, and LV cables.