You never outgrow the need for love

Recently I had the revelation that one never really outgrows the need for love. The yearning for love from parents is such a fundamental need. How then am I to plod on when this need can no longer be met?

While going to bed the night before my trip to India, I sent an update to my mother saying that I was ready to leave the following morning. She responded by saying that "Have a safe flight kannama. Looking forward." Those simple words of endearment (kannama means darling) really struck my heart. The thought that these endearments will expire in a few months or years highlighted the preciousness of these remaining few. Grief bubbled up while thinking that I will outlast these endearments. I realized that I very much wanted to continue listening to them forever and to continue receiving their love.

This is not to say that I am lacking in affection or that I am unloved by others in my life. In fact, I have had so much support from my husband, brother, niece, and friends who have showed up and gone the extra mile during this period. And still, reality brings with it new wisdom.

Restart

 

5RF

Five random facts about me. Not all that random, but facts.

1. I love Fashion TV. It really amazes me the things that the designers come up with! I also love polka dots and mango motifs.

2. As much as I believe in the power of science, I believe in the power of religion (I'm not talking about the power of God).

3. When I was a kid, I used to pull the cheeks of all my younger cousins and would be so confused as to why they would cry!!! And naturally I would also cry to prevent anybody from scolding me :D

4. I don't like too many flowers or vases in the house. I prefer ashtrays as decorative pieces.

5. When I was a kid, I always used had an acute sense of deja-vu when I used the bathroom on the top floor at nights. This feeling would scare me and I would do my job only with the bathroom door open. Even today, I never shut any bathroom doors when I leave them. I keep the doors wide open. My mom hates this habit of mine.

In relation to bathrooms I've had another terror. I always used to wonder how the hell I would run out if an earthquake struck and I was having a bath!

December 2024: This post started out as 8 random facts about me and it was a draft dated August 2015. Since I will never recall what I did write back then, I have decided to publish it.

Signatures

It's been quite some time since I've written anything, but now I've found something that has inspired me - one of my newest passions, driving. I feel, it is one of the biggest advantages of being over eighteen years. Although it's been more than a year since I got the licence, I began having fun only when I was given a brand new car, one that nobody else drives. Driving it gives me a unique experience not because it is new but because it is exclusive.

Initially, I was terrified because there was no one to guide me, and to make matters worse, I had to learn to drive on a new car and if I made a single scratch it would show. There was only my mother who would sit beside me "instructing" me to slow down, although ending up just distracting me. Because of her ceaseless talking, one day I hit the tail-lights of three motorcyclists (or bikists) at three different signals on the same ride. And, understandably, I was shaken by the end of the ride and cried real hard out of sheer exasperation. That was when I really began to LEARN to drive. There is nothing really that can be TAUGHT about driving except changing gears and applying brakes, but to learn to drive is different. It requires experience and, more importantly, careful observation. I began to listen to my car and understand it, I observed every response it gave to the inputs it got. I slowly learnt how much to turn the steering wheel during a U-turn, how to ignore every other passenger in the car, and most importantly, when and how much to brake. I also learnt to go easy on the accelerator, how to change gears smoothly, drive on slopes effortlessly.

And there is one other important thing. Although this might sound repetitive, it is absolutely essential to be able to predict the movements of the vehicle ahead of you. To predict when it will brake and how much. Every city has its own special rules and norms, for example, how much the average distance between two cars at a signal is highly dependent on its population. The more the traffic, the lesser is the gap. Similarly, every city is characterized by its own traffic discipline. It is not possible to drive the same way in each city just as it is not possible to drive each car the same way. One needs to constantly observe and respond. It is beautiful in its dynamicism.

And, that's the reason I think signatures are very very special. Each one is unique, dynamic and ever-changing. And, I begin to feel that every object we come in close contact with, every user-object relationship has its own signature stamped on it. I doubt if even a single commodity can be said to be created to perfection. The ones that last long are the ones that are most out of shape, the most battered yet they can be applied to perfection. There's nothing as imperfect as a new object and nothing just as amenable. We lend a flavour to the objects we exclusively use - our toothbrushes, our rooms, our shoes, our homes, our guitars, our notebooks, our fountain pens, our computers, our gadgets, our cars, and of course our CITIES!!

Dancing with the Gods

This piece has got to do with a lecture I attended – “Dancing With Gods” by writer, Anita Nair. It happened over six months ago but it has left a lasting impression on me. She was not good at capturing the audience’s attention for most part of it because she was droning in a monotone, reading out from a script. Yet, the theme caught my attention.

Let me give you the whole picture. I have been learning dance for the past thirteen – fourteen years going through a whole array of stages. There are two people I revere as gurus – one, my elder brother and the other, my dance teacher. Dancing is not easy – it requires discipline, and large amounts of it. I joined, or rather; my mother put me into the dance class at the age of five. I don’t exactly remember. At that age, it didn’t matter to me at all. I just went there and whiled away my time paying no attention to what my teacher would say and just doing things mechanically. It was difficult to understand why we were dancing in the first place. But it didn’t bother me too much because it was just another thing to do!

The next phase was anger and complete indignation. As I grew a few years older, my teacher started getting strict. She used to shout at us, make us do long and demanding steps unrelenting to our pleas. She first wanted to build our stamina before correcting us and teaching us about the more intricate part of the dance. I used to curse my mother every time I went to class and even more, on my way back. Yet, somehow I was so used to going to dance class and seeing the teacher’s face that I never dreamt of stopped going to class by throwing a tantrum. I was successful in doing that with my music classes though. I began accepting it as my fate. And she succeeded in instilling basic discipline. And, she began telling us short stories, giving us bits of cultural background. I simply absorbed the whole thing without being aware of it!

The next phase was the Salangai Pooja. It is the first time a teacher presents the student with salangai, which is the first prerequisite that an aspiring dancer must fulfil. But, she wouldn’t let anybody and everybody do the pooja. “You must have a certain standard”, she would say. Mine happened in the sixth grade. That was when she taught us about the intricacies of the dance. We were taught about body posture, the way to walk, the way to look, etc. We were still too young to emote so she let that aspect go. We had to perform without error, she would say. A small mistake on the stage would result in a firing the next class in front of everybody. With the encouragement I received from my parent’s quarters and the patience that my teacher had, it went smoothly without a hitch. Great! After that, all my cursing stopped. My confidence built up and I began admiring my teacher as she used to tell us more and more things, small things that we picked up along the way.

The next milestone to be reached was the Arangetram. That is done when the student learns all the forms of the dance and can emote considerably on stage. It means that the student has learnt everything and that further there is only improvisation. It is a grand event and requires at least two months of devoted practice. Thereafter, a student is qualified to perform on stage. That happened in the ninth grade. And I gave a few public performances. So, she kept correcting us, improvising, etc.

By this time, we were all grown up to understand the dance and to enjoy it; the science behind it. To help us understand, she would make us teach our junior students. It is a very refreshing experience. You really get to see the mistakes and the right postures, expressions, etc. Then, I entered into my eleventh grade. And had to discontinue my classes because I joined coaching classes for JEE and the timings clashed. Then, I cleared the exam and joined the hostel at IIT. Being too lazy to travel home during weekends, I did not resume my dancing.

And then, the revelation happened at Saarang 2006. There was a western music workshop that I just attended. You might find it totally unrelated. The lecture was on some of the advanced techniques of drumming. It was then that I realized that rhythm was a part of me just like blood. And every drumbeat urged me to stand up and dance. I made up my mind then and there. That come what may, as long as I am in Chennai, I would attend dance classes during weekends. So I resumed going to classes. In the beginning, it was quite rusty and I was nervous too. And slowly I got adjusted. And dancing is an eternal experience. From the stage that I had left, the science of it, our teacher introduces us to the world of creativity and choreography. It is not at all easy. A single minute of song may take hours to choreograph. The music, the rhythm, the expression, the context should all blend in.

Coming back to the lecture, its title was dancing with the gods. I found that peculiar. Most of the songs that we dance for, praise the virtues of God or we depict instances or situations from the everyday world. The lecture began with her experiences as a Kathakali student, a course she did spanning a few months. The way her teacher taught her, about the nuances of the dance form; those little details that give it the grace that one can learn only from a guru, things that can’t be learned visually by being part of the audience. And after the course, Anita Nair never got around to dancing. She never became a professional dancer. Yet, it was a worthy experience that she had had – the relationship she shared with her teacher. The whole process of learning is a step-by-step process and each stage is a revelation. There is no point hurrying the whole process at all. It may take a whole lifetime and it is worth every moment of it. And also that, to learn an art does not mean that one has to become an exponent, a performer, a genius; but to enjoy every moment of it, to respect it, to understand it. Whether or not you DANCE FOR THE GODS, with all the bhakti, devotion and dedication, you must always be elevated by it, like the way you feel admiring nature, when you feel you are in unison with the world around, and gives you the feeling of DANCING WITH THE GODS!!

Expressions

OK. So, I am finally writing. And, here is where I begin. Apart from writing essays in school, I haven't ever written without being told to. Writing was never my form of expression. To me, it has always been a tool of communication and an art to admire, but I never imagined myself writing something spontaneously or after careful planning, and open to every one's scrutiny.

Let me give you a background to this whole writing business. Many of my close friends maintain blogs. I used to find this practice queer! Not just one or two, but a whole bunch of them wrote. Did everybody have the flair for writing? Did they enjoy it as an experience? And I used to wonder how they wrote such long pieces with so much patience. And, I never thought of expression as important for one’s well. To top it all, my friends used to send me tiresome mails and reminders urging me to read their updated blogs AND comment on them! So, this set me thinking. Why was it that almost everybody wrote and not I?

First of all, I was not very amiable to the idea of my writings being open to all under scrutiny. Secondly, I felt pressurized to write, peer pressure, and wanted to resist writing. Finally, I realized that writing is a form of expression, like many others. I don’t want to call it an art, because I’m really not sure what the meaning of “art” is. But yes, music, painting, dance (I shall delve into this more deeply), drama, cinema, photography and a countless other unnamed actions are forms of expression.

I had never liked the idea of expression. I am a sort of closed person, one would say. Not wanting to impose my ideas on others, not having my ideas ridiculed, not daring to expose my feelings, etc. Expression does two things – it purges emotions, experiences, etc. and it contributes to the whole world in general by sharing. I used to be scared because what I might have to say may turn out to be wrong and might evoke ill feelings from others. But then, I began to realize that we are all human beings and live in an interconnected world. Everything affects everybody and nobody is solely responsible for any occurrence. There is no such thing as right or wrong in this world. Truth is relative – to the mindset, to the frame and to the context. Nothing I can say will affect the world around so much. And that remaining silent can cause more damage than being expressive. As long as things can be forgiven, nothing can really go wrong with the world! Expression is not a problem anymore. In fact, expressions make the world more lively and enjoyable, from the basic colours of flowers (gene expression!) to the most sophisticated forms of art. Without stimulus, there is no dynamism, no joy. Where there is expression, there is experience also. And what I experience today at this moment, I will never experience again. What I do may spark a thought or suppress an idea but I shall believe God’s in his heaven and everything is right with the world. Expressions are what make the world beautiful again and again, no matter how many times before you have marvelled at it!

Ithaca

Ithaca…. A wonderful poem by Constantine P Cavafy written in 1911. It presents itself with so much meaning and optimism, and about religion! Belief in God is optimism in itself. The text goes like this:

When you set out on your journey to Ithaca,
pray that the road is long,
full of adventure, full of knowledge.
The Lestrygonians and the Cyclops,
the angry Poseidon -- do not fear them:
You will never find such as these on your path,
if your thoughts remain lofty, if a fine
emotion touches your spirit and your body.
The Lestrygonians and the Cyclops,
the fierce Poseidon you will never encounter,
if you do not carry them within your soul,
if your soul does not set them up before you.

Pray that the road is long.
That the summer mornings are many, when,
with such pleasure, with such joy
you will enter ports seen for the first time;
stop at Phoenician markets,
and purchase fine merchandise,
mother-of-pearl and coral, amber and ebony,
and sensual perfumes of all kinds,
as many sensual perfumes as you can;
visit many Egyptian cities,
to learn and learn from scholars.

Always keep Ithaca in your mind.
To arrive there is your ultimate goal.
But do not hurry the voyage at all.
It is better to let it last for many years;
and to anchor at the island when you are old,
rich with all you have gained on the way,
not expecting that Ithaca will offer you riches.

Ithaca has given you the beautiful voyage.
Without her you would have never set out on the road.
She has nothing more to give you.

And if you find her poor, Ithaca has not deceived you.
Wise as you have become, with so much experience,
you must already have understood what Ithaca means.