Turning good when I chose to be bad

There’s a war always going on inside our heads, between the good and the bad. Between being selfish or selfless. Between sin and holy. Between what’s right and what I want.
Seemingly simple choices like chosing pizza or a salad for lunch showcases which side is winning. Are we being self-destructive because we don’t (want to) care OR we’re being loving and caring to our body. And the tough ones like partying or going home to family.

The choices are not always personal or affecting-personal. There are times when you have to chose between happiness of self or loved-ones.

After struggling with sacrifices and dealing with hurt, or being selfish and dealing with guilt later, I made a choice. I decided I’m going to stop trying to be a good girl. I’m going to chose myself and what seems right to me than pleasing others. There’s no certificate given at the end of the life for being good. Rather, you often end up hurting or making a mistake too often, when trying to be good. When you’ve stopped trying to be good, people happily accept whatever good/favors you do. Once you learn to say No it’s lot easier saying No than a Yes.

So, I do things that please me. I do things that suit my or my family’s best interests. And I don’t try to make everyone happy.

A few years into this, when I look back at my choices, I find, I haven’t done anything sinful. I have always ended up chosing what’s right than chosing immediate happiness. I chose selfish and yet that selfish is all-encompassing. And there’s no burden of ‘sacrifice’. It’s my choice. It’s my life rules that I’m creating for myself because I chose them, not because of parents, husband, society or upbringing. Simply because I find this meaningful for me.

And that has made all the difference.

Hope

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Take me away to a place,

Far and wide.

Where the mind is silent,

And heart is full of glee.

Where there is no self-doubt,

Or worries of hurt.

Where I can be,

And set my soul free.

Stop parenting your kids

When Anay was born and was perhaps, a few days old, I realized something. I found how a ball of mass, with a drum beating inside him, with every pulse, has been put into my hands. A gullible, innocent, extremely fragile thing who’s my responsibility to protect and to care.

And, I found myself immediately incapable.

It was easier protecting him when he was inside me, still in womb. I just needed to take care of 100 things to take care of my body. But now, it was outside me and the 100 had multiplied 100 times over.

What all can you take care? Food, Poop, Mosquitoes, Vaccines..sure. But, what about dangers like people, accidents, unawares. There’s a caring physically but what about the emotional care. How do you save him from all the world hatred and hardships that we’re inevitably going to follow? How do you ensure he never falls off the bed while sleeping because you went for a leak mid-night? How do you guarantee that no bully ever set his/her hands on him? How do you make sure that he never falls sick? How do you ensure that he’s never snatched away from you….

The answer is no matter what you do, you can’t.

And in that moment, I realized something else. He’s God’s child and God’s to protect him. I’m nothing but a medium that was to bring him into this universe. The incidents, the experiences, he’s destined for, in his life, are his own. You can stand and be witness to those. You can pray for God to be gentle and kind to him. You can hope to be there and help him out of any situation but you cannot be in control of it, anytime.

So, after that moment, I don’t try to control his life. I don’t try to control what he’s becoming or what he’s chosing. I let him chose and just try to make him aware, wherever I can. I stand witness. I stand just around for him to hold in case he needs me. Just so he knows I have his back at all times. But, I don’t believe, at any point of time, that I’m in charge of him. I dont believe that I’m in charge of his fate.

And, hence, I selfishly take. Than worry about giving. I enjoy whatever time I get with him. Cherish it, knowing it’s timed. He’ll grow up and have his own life, and move on. I enjoy spoiling him, giving him all of my unadulterated love. Kiss him as much as I can. Tell him uninhibitedly in long passages/monologues on how beautiful a child he’s and how fortunate I’m to be his mother. I enjoy the difficult dramas he throws at me because I know it’s part of growing up and I’ll miss it when he grows up. Enjoy the shenanigans. Enjoy the manipulation. Enjoy the tantrums too. They won’t last forever.

I just want him to know, at all times in his life, whether I’m by his side or not, that he was/is loved. Unconditionally. Not for his achievements or good habits or good looks. Just for being himself.

And with that, I think, he can conquer any situation, any world that comes his way.

Dear God, please be with him at all times.

-Hope

Beautiful in my own way

Dear Diary,

I’m sitting at the PDX airport, waiting to start my long journey back home. But the mind is hassle-free, relaxed. Too many thoughts crossing it. Let me try just pen them down.

1. Love thy city. I can’t pen this for my own city but Oregon City speaks this to me:

Love me when it rains endlessly and you feel gloomy because there’s been no sunshine.

Love me for the tall trees which make it so green that you get sick of green in the end.

Love the icy-chilly winters.

Love the emptiness. Love the quiet riverside opposite. Love the bustling downtown too with all the buildings under-construction.

Love me in all forms. Love me like you love your lover. Because I’m ‘your’ city. And I’m beautiful in my own way.

2. Books are the best friend but they’re not best while traveling. They take away the experience of quietly enjoying the surroundings. Instead of absorbing the new place I’m visiting, I end up getting absorbed by the book. So, I rest my book for a while and let the surroundings and thoughts take over me .

3. Paradoxical: I often have the thought that by the time I reach the end of my life, I would have reversed my personality. I love who I am right now. Outgoing, social, talkative, meeting and befriending new people. But, when the crest of an experience/wave passes, I feel silly. The quiet takes over and I feel that’s ‘the real deal’. Being an introvert. No people. Just you. Being like a river. Everything from the light breeze to a storm touch you but you remain same. Unperturbed, in the end. Same way, be a river. Meet as many people as you may. But don’t let it move you- whether positively or negatively. Know your truth. Stick to it. Believe it.

Speak less. Observe more. Absorb as much as possible.

4. After a long spell of downward spiral, I find myself rising again. I feel much lighter, happier, doing things I want to do. Not worrying about the world or consequences, per se. My current being reminds me of myself in school days. Dancing, studying hard, center of attention. Lively innocent girl, with the world ahead to conquer.

I find the people around me wondering, looking at me in awe, maybe snickering at me behind me. But I don’t care. I love myself this way. I may not be the best version in a role I partake, but I am happy being this version of Hope. Myself. Alive. Living every minute of my life. Doing exactly what I want to.

And I intend to do exactly this for the rest of my life. Let this be my life’s mantra.

Love,

Hope

Hearty heady mixtures

I must be mad! Or really desperate. I just find a new muse every week. And each one makes my heart play a different tune. Sometimes, it’s a heady margarita burning my throat, some other days it’s like a cold lemonade belching my thirst. Some make my heart jump up crests and mountains. Some make me feel like a twirling ballerina.

But each one fades away. Some are a day’s worth. Some last a week. I don’t remember which one lasted a month. But that’s probably the maximum expiry date.

And the best/worst part is it’s all in my head! Nothing actually happens. I enjoy the feelings my head and heart spin out, while it lasts, till it lasts. And then, like a cherished book which reaches it’s last pages, I savour it and put it down to rest.

Returning back to the book called reality.

Role Play between Anay and Tarun

Dear Diary,

We went on a small getaway trip recently. There, Anay and Tarun played a role-play activity where they write to each other. Anay is going/gone to Moon on a mission while Tarun is writing to him from Earth/India/Noida. Read on, my 7-yr old’s thoughts.

Anay: I am going to Moon from India not for US side. But I need a Good Luck. Can you please give me an idea from who I can take?

Papa:

Dear Anay,
It was lovely and surprising to get your message in middle of night. I am really happy to know that you are going to Moon missing from India.
Dear Son, my best wishes are always with you. But, I want to tell you that, not only me, but whole India is looking at you. They all are praying for your take-off and waiting to hear your success stories.
I am sure that my son will make it big.

Love,
Papa and Mamma 🙂

Anay: Okay, I already have a trip to Noida on the coming Friday.
Papa: That’s wonderful Dear!
Anay: Yeah! My Mission was great. Have you got the news of me?
Papa: Dear Anay, Yes of course I saw the news. I was on TV the whole day. God bless you! Waiting to see you soon.

By the river Ganges

I’m out on an office off-site. The resort we’re staying at is right next to the river Ganges.

This trip has been a lot of firsts for me. I’m out without family, with office folks. Usually before this, the families were invited so it became more of a family trip paid by the company. If team-building is the agenda, it has to be sans family.

I’ve never been so close to a serene water body. Beaches and oceans is a very different experience than rivers. I’m so addicted to the sound of river water gushing, the view of ripples, the expanse of water – the thing a river is, the feeling is profound and awakening.

I recently finished reading Siddhartha by Herman Hesse and it has a long passage of experience with the river. I can so feel it flowing through my veins, through my breath. The view filling my soul, cleansing it, hopefully.

I went for nature walk and I saw quite a few types of vegetations – rice, bottle gourd, bhaang, phali… I found an open ghaat where the locals come for some quiet and general chit-chat in the morning. This is as early as 6 in the morning. I saw jugnoo lighting up the night together with the Stars.

Ohh, and the birds! How can I forget the birds. Chirping, flying around finding twigs for their nests during the day, and then drifting away to their homes at dawn. The parrots, the swans, the mynahs, the helicopters, the crickets, the unidentified, so many and yet so few.

I sang songs at karaoke, danced like a maniac wearing a onesie in front of my team-mates, played cards, flirted with the newbies, ran top-speed while playing with the team without wondering where the body parts (ahem!) are! Who’s watching and who isn’t.

Bedazzled the people. Throwing caution to the winds. Just being myself without thinking of consequences. Or that I’m a girl. Or that I’m a manager.

These two days have been magnificently beautiful. Liberating. Free.

And while I type this, watching over the Ganges, let me take a deep breath of fresh air, and live it a moment longer. Before I return to reality.

-Hope