It's The Small Things

The last few weeks have been a reminder on how it is the small things that really help make or break just about anything - relationships, work processes, safety of people and security of assets. The big things everyone takes care of, but it is the neglect of the small things that adds up to create that one big event that maybe could have been prevented. 

I will not be cryptic anymore. To start with, I will take a personal example. Walking with my sister on a particular day I felt a twinge in my ankle. We were out to run eraands and I was in New York, not where I live. So I ignored it as I did not want to be a burden. The next day, out for lunch the ankle really started whining so I told her to slow down and then again ignored it. When we reached home that evening for a dinner with cousins I opened my shoes to find the darned joint swollen. It was at this point I remembered the suffering of an old ankle ligament tear and the six weeks I had spent in case. So mortified of being there again, I started to ice, elevate and took anti inflammatory as I have never been prescribed before. Fortunately in this case it was not too late but it did take some joy out of the trip. Only if I had paid attention on day one! And while my doctor back in India has given me a clean chit he has also advised to stay away from the heels. Now you see, I do not know if that is a BIG thing or a small thing. Till I make up my mind I am going with three days a week with heels. Vanity may just get me but what can I say....

The above is probably no harm no foul. What I faced next is major. So I had lent a mobile to a friend who was visiting India. Not a sim card but only the mobile. Data was erased and it was practically empty. As he was leaving the country he said he would leave the handset with the conceirge at the hotel and I could pick it up. When I did, I strangely found that the handset was unlocked. I enquired and he mentioned that as this was a temporary device and not his, he had not warranted to create a digital lock. Not what I would have done but ok. I once again erased the phone and put it away. A couple of days later the same friend called telling me that he was getting lewd emails with India contact numbers. I was stunned. We were trying to understand how someone got his email address when I realised that his phone, out of his custody was with the conceirge. Was there any chance that his mail ID had been active on that? Bingo! There. A small act of oversight created nuisance for him!

This still is potentially being left a little too easily. I think its the next one that is keeping me awake this Sunday night. Sunday before last was our building had its AGM followed by lunch. As this clashed with a pooja at home the AGM had to be skipped. However, after the AGM I insisted on finishing my work and then going down for lunch. Well I would miss meeting those who would leave early but at least I would meet the others. So I attended to what I thought was important and then made my way to the lunch. It was a delightful event and it was so good to be meeting everyone, so freely, after all this time. What I did not realise was that I had lost my last opportunity to meet with one of our residents, a jovial individual who would always smile and have a conversation. Suddenly yesterday he passed away due to a heart attack! Within thirty minutes it was all over! And I had the chance but I lost it. 

It was a small thing to have met my neighbours but it became a big thing today. The big thing of two weeks back I now realise I would have anyway taken care of as it was BIG. But in the bargain that I made the small thing cost me more. So as I am trying to sleep, I am trying to tell myself that maybe its the small things that really do matter and I need to be more attentive towards them. 

Adios amigos and may you all have a great week ahead!

The season of festivals

It's that time of the year when the festivals start coming one after the other, bringing in loads of childhood memories and wisdom of adulthood. Typically festivals are associated with revelry, food and prayers. I enjoy all that and the beautiful flower arrangements that adorn temples and entrances. Yet as the years have gone by, it's the learnings of the festivals that has stood out most for me. 

Let me start with Janmashtami, the festival that marks the beginning of all major festivals of the Hindu calendar. This festival falls in the Hindu month of Shravan on the eighth day of the waning moon cycle. I am smiling as I am writing this, because this maybe confusing even for those who follow Janamashtami. The Hindu calendar is a lunar calendar and has two halves of a fortnight each - the waxing moon cycle and the waning moon cycle. The month of Shravan is the monsoon month put very liberally and it's so apt as legends have it that Lord Krishna was born on this day to be welcomed by a torrential downpour. 

Before I get into the learnings of Janamashtami, let me share the revelries around this time. As children we would begin celebrating eight days in advance by preparing unique and diverse tableaus each day. Usually we would use vegetables on day one, fruits on day two, colours on day three, our toys on day four, fabric on day five and ultimately flowers on day eight. It was a community affair. More recently my paternal grandmother used to lay out a tiny swing and on it she would get her little Krishna to sit and swing him gently while singing sweet bhajans. Her devotion was unparalleled. She was the one who regaled my childhood with the glory of Kanha, as Krishna is fondly called. 

The Benevolent One was the one to acquaint me with the learnings from Krishna's life. He called him जगत गुरु, or the Guru of the Universe. As a Guru, Krishna showed how to navigate the most complex and tumultuous situations in life with grace and dignity. He was born in a prison where his parents were apprehended by his maternal uncle, he grew up away from his biological parents, had multiple attempts at his life from infancy, had to kill his own maternal uncle and was cursed that his entire lineage would vanquish. Yet, despite all these extremities he maintained his grace, fought for righteousness, helped all those who came to him and ensured that he kept his promises. In fact it was to enable the reign of righteousness on the planet that he imparted the knowledge of Bhagwat Gita to Arjun and impressed upon him that his duty was to fight a war with his own cousins. It was this war that got him cursed by the mother of slain Kauravas, who while in the wrong all the while were nonetheless a hundred dead sons of a mother. The grief of losing a hundred sons pushed Gandhari to curse Krishna that the Yadu dynasty would perish and so it did. Krishna paid a price for his life's mission from infancy, a price that was too steep. If only we could stick by our ideals and our values to even ten percent of this, the world would be a better place...

Closely following Janamashtami is Ganesh Chaturthi, a beautiful celebration of communities and families coming together to pray and bond. To be honest this is more of a tradition in Maharashtra, Goa, Andhra Pradesh and to some extent in Karnataka and Gujarat. In rest of the country it's a low key pious festival. This fourth day of the Shukla Paksh (waxing moon phase) of the Bhadrapad month marks the birth of Lord Ganesh, the God of clearing all obstacles and the giver of all joy, intellect and spiritual powers. In 1893, the great Lokmanya Tilak or Bal Gangadhar Tilak, organised the large public celebration of Ganesh Chaturthi as an attempt to unite Indians in the fight against the British. So on Ganesh Chaturthi, Ganpati idols were installed in large pavilions and for ten days communal prayers were performed and a strong atmosphere of oneness was formed. On the tenth day, a day before full moon, the idols were immersed in water marking the disappearance of all obstacles. 

This tradition has continued and expanded in the states mentioned above to the extent that no political rally, no other procession, no celebrity and no occassion can ever see the huge disparate crowds as those that gather for bringing of Lord Ganesh into the pavilions and then taking the idol for immersion. Today the idols are made of clay once more after less environmental friendly materials ruled the roost till a few years ago. Climate change is foremost on minds of those celebrating and it's not just Hindus but people across religions who invite people home as their special friend graces homes on his annual retreat! There is no other festival that exemplifies unity even today more than Ganesh Utsav. There is no other festival that gets people to pray and thank together like these ten days. There is no other festival that humbles the soul with devotion as this. If only we could stay as united, grateful and grounded the whole year round, the world would be a better place...

Soon after we bid goodbye to Ganpati with a promise to see him next year, the time to celebrate the nine form of feminine supremacy arrives. Navratri, literally the nine nights, is the most important festival in the east and the west of the country where the Goddess is the prime deity. Nine forms of the Goddess are prayed to over a nine day period with nightly dance offerings, cultural events and food being cooked, served and eaten in large public gatherings. This time these gatherings are colossal and grand in West Bengal, Gujarat and Delhi with some grandeur being seen in cities with large Gujarati and Bengali population. Each day has a colour that goes with it and devotees attempt to adorn finery in these colours. Preparations for cultural performances in West Bengal and with Bengalis across the world start months in advance. In Gujarat and with Gujaratis it's time to buy their best ethnic wear and win in the large dandiya (a traditional dance) competitions held across the globe once again. In Mumbai I have seen large markets selling traditional wear in a range of colours and all dandiya revellers buy these anew, each year, every year! 

For a country that the world sees as not women friendly, this season is the season when we not only worship the feminine but also acknowledge that without the feminine the masculine is incomplete. That it's Shakti (the feminine, energy) that nourishes Prakriti (the masculine, nature). That while the feminine can procreate and sustain, it can also challenge evil and destroy. There is nothing that the feminine cannot attempt and succeed at. Each of the nine forms of the Goddess are prayed to provide the devotees with the nine boons to live a complete and fulfilled life. It's true that we have come a long way in our appreciation and empowerment of women, but it's equally true that a lot still needs to be done. If we could only see ten percent of the Goddess in the women around us, the society would be a better place...

The day after Navratri ends is the day of Dussehra, a day that marks Lord Ram's victory over Ravana and hence the day that celebrates a victory of the good over evil. Through Navratri, while the east and the west have their celebrations, in the north of the country there are preparations for Dussehra that are also underway. One of the biggest features of this is the enactment of the story of Ramayan at large public gatherings on open stages, called Ramleelas. Contrary to the ethos of Navratri, the Ramleela troupes have men playing the role of women. Of course this too is slowly evolving. As the troupes are not professionals most often the Ramleela rehearsals once again bring communities together, and even where professionals perform families go together to view the play through out the nine days. On the tenth day the character of Lord Ram burns an effigy of Ravana, marking the demon's defeat. This is an event where as children we would clap, jump, hoot and celebrate. Candy floss was eaten at the Ramleela ground and story of Ramayan told again and again. 

Ravana was amongst the most intellectual beings of his era. Whether it was the scriptures or music, whether it was the art of war or economics, whether it was architecture or medicine; he was a know it all. He was the foremost devotee or Lord Shankara and so accomplished that the Lord entrusted him with composing the Vedas to ragas. Sadly, his accomplishments were shadowed by his lust, arrogance and greed. It was this that led him to kidnap Goddess Sita who was married to Lord Ram. While the Lord made attempts to convince him to release the Goddess, Ravana believing that he was immortal challenged the Lord and that led not just to his downfall but that of the entire Kingdom of Lanka. If only we could all recognise our shortcomings and just ten percent of the times not give in to avarice, cravings and our ego, the world would be a better place...

The season of festival finally ends with the grandest of all festivals, Diwali or Deepavali. This is the festival of lights which marks the return of Lord Ram to Ayodhya with Goddess Sita after a fourteen years exile at the end of which Ravana was killed. It is celebrated twenty days after Dusshera and falls on the no moon night of the Hindu month of Kartik . In the south of the country the day is celebrated one day prior to mark the victory of Lord Krishna's consort Satyabhama's victory over the demon Narkasura. While both underlying reasons are different, the festival is celebrated by lighting of lamps, cooking feats, buying of new clothes and cleaning of homes. Gifts are exchanged both personally and professionally, and this is a public holiday across the nation. Offices and homes in the north also start their new financial year with prayers offered to the Goddess of wealth Laxmi. It's my absolute favourite festival and one that since childhood has involved flower garlands, rangoli (colourful patterns created on the floor outside homes and temples), lots of diyas and best of traditional Marwari food. I wait every year, even today, for Diwali to arrive. 

Diwali to me marks the day where the Lord kept his promise to his father at great personal discomfort and suffering. It marks the day when his younger brother relinquished overseeing the governance of the kingdom as the rightful ruler was back. It marks the day when all personal differences are forgotten and families come together. If only, through the year we could have ten percent of the integrity, honesty and dedication that Lord Ram and his brothers had, the world would be a better place...

These festivals are not just learnings and celebrations but they define a way of life that has been handed down generations. There are underlying deep associations with each one. In our more modern lifestyle we choose to overlook this and get consumed in our own materialistic pursuits. I do believe that a step back and a thought given will help us realise the value that we have been handed. It definitely will help us enrich our lives and in the process maybe leave a better planet for generations to come. 

On that hopeful note, this is an end to a long post and wishing everyone a happy weekend. 

Finding Faith

“When we give in to love, we take charge of our lives. When we give in to fear, we lose control of our lives. So do not fear but continue your journey and you will find your destiny.”  At a very young age, when I feared venturing into the unexpected, a teacher had told me this. It helped me on a journey where I began to understand myself more and could spend the time when I had very few friends with great ease.   But then as years went by, I began to understand the deeper meaning of this phrase.

The starkest moment when this phrase became the tipping point in my life was in the early 2000s. I had been struggling to find a job. Many an interview had come and gone. I was working hard, and I was persistent. Yet fear had started to get the better of me; what if I had to return home…what if I had to lean on the family to find a job…what if…My confidence had taken a beating and I was at the lowest of the low points in my life. At that point in my life, I was the recipient of the generosity of two friends who had kindly allowed me to share their living space even though I could not contribute to the rent. Having grown up in an all women house, this was a new situation for me and added to that was my job situation. I was miserable and for the first time in my life I was not sure where my dreams and heart had led me to. Maybe I was just being a romantic!

In a tormented state of mind, I walked along the Thames, and stared across at the lit Westminster. As dusk turned into night the reflections of the Parliament suddenly made me remember what the teacher had told me long ago. It got me thinking and I began to feel some pride. I had been brave to move to a completely unknown country and work from scratch to find myself a job. Just as I was starting to feel a bit worthy, L called. She was going to visit her mother and I was free to stay at her apartment for the weekend. What a blessed opportunity of privacy! I grabbed it with both hands!

I will always be grateful to L for she was the third person to support me through that tough period. Anyway, Friday evening I entered L’s cosy and warm apartment intent on soaking in a hot bath. But as I started to run the bath I desperately desired a book. That evening I just wanted to read and listen to music as I pampered myself. Walking over to L’s bookshelf I came across The Alchemist, a book that has been my go-to for almost ever now. I grabbed it and in the bath opened it at random. As I read the words in front of me, I felt as if they were meant only for me. The following is what I read, “before  a dream is realized, the Soul of the World tests everything that was learned along the way. It does not because it is evil, but so that we can, in addition to realizing our dreams, master the lessons we’ve learned as we’ve moved toward the dream. That’s the point at the which most people give up. It’s the point at which, as we say in the language of the desert, one dies of thirst just when the palm trees have appeared on the horizon. Every search begins with beginner’s luck. And evert search ends with the victor’s being severely tested.”

Munching my dinner of grilled halloumi and corn I remember feeling grateful for those words to have appeared. I had given in to fears and had forgotten what it was like to be open to love and opportunity. The following Monday I had the interview which I converted into a job and as they say the rest is history.

But why am I writing this today? Because I woke up with a feeling that the world is becoming an unsafe, unhappy and intolerant place. What with the Copenhagen mall shooting, the assassination of Padma Vibhushan Shinzo Abe, the Russia – Ukraine war etc. The family health issues have been a nagging worry for some weeks now and it seems that since Little Springsteen had his accident, health of family members has needed attention. And then there are other issues that have been simmering at the back. These past weeks, for all of the above reasons, have been now I realise more focussed on my fears than the love and faith that has always helped me navigate and find happiness.

The most recent example is my strong belief that Little Springsteen would make it back home. Yes there were many touch and go moments and there was all the agony that my little angel went through. And yet he is home, now even writing with his feet, already! His treatment is not over but this is the time for him to gain strength and then we go to the prosthetics but what victory! He was in the hospital for sixty days and of that forty in the ICU having undergone multiple surgeries! But I was always confident he would make it and he did! So today I am closing the doors on my fear and inviting my love and faith to guide me once again. As said the Alchemist, “Everything is written in the Soul of the World and there it will stay forever.”

 

Roe v Wade - Half a century of efforts drained

I am terribly sad; that is the only word I can think of that describes all the emotions I am going through. I also know that my sadness, in this case, will impact no one and is not of consequence as such. Yet as a woman, as someone who believes everyone should have the right to self preservation and privacy, I am saddened by the overturning of Roe v Wade. What is far more flummoxing is that this decision comes from the highest court of a country that is a self declared champion and moral authority of human rights. 

Motherhood, the word itself evokes smile, joy and nurturing instincts. But that is when it is a cherished desire or a choice. Anything forced is a burden and motherhood even as an elected choice is a life altering experience, so the forced option probably is more chaotic than one can even imagine. 

In the most extreme cases I am thinking of women like Norma McCorvey (who got Roe v. Wade in place) whose pregnancy is the result of an assault. A victim of a crime, forced to give birth to the consequence of the attack, can have multiple physical and mental health issues; her chronological, economic and aspirational circumstances not withstanding. Then there is the debate on nurture vs nature that has claims on both sides of whether genes pre dispose individuals to a life of aggression and crime or not. Even if nurture was to be the winner, who is to say that a tormented individual would be able to nurture a young life ably...

Reality could be completely anti a life born to a poor, socially isolated and traumatised rape victim. So at the end of the day are we saying that it's ok roll a dice to decide the fate of a new life? Of course there is the argument that a roll of a dice gives the life a chance vs abortion that takes away any chance at all. However, who are we to play the game of probability when the person who will be responsible for changing the odds potentially is an unwilling participant? Denial of self preservation in these instances is a crime in itself in my view. 

There are those who will say rape pregnancies are a small percentage. Reluctantly, but still let me accept that data point without having any facts to support or deny this claim. The thoughts steer towards to young couples not ready for a child, couples who do not want children ever and single women not wanting (yet or ever) children. This is a subset that does not want children and no contraceptive is a 100% foolproof. So what happens when they conceive? We take away their right to lead lives as they would like to? And who is the state, in a democracy,  to dictate how a couple should structure their family or to a woman or her life choices? The counter argument to this thought is that the state is speaking on behalf of a life that cannot speak for itself. Well that is why there is the so desired separation between the church and the state! What about atheists? How can the state impose religious beliefs on those who have none? Once again this set of citizens is forced into a life that is not theirs by their choice and a choice that is not creating harm, injustice or unrest to the society in any way at all! 

As I am writing this, I am reminded of a story. Before I pen that down I will state clearly that I am spiritual, I believe in life, after life and rebirth, and I am also a moderate Hindu. The story is from the Hindu epic Mahabharata and talks about the decision of nurturing a life resting with the mother. Santanu was a Kuru king who fell in love with Ganga, the river goddess. When he asked for her hand in marriage she hesitated and then before she accepted she only requested that he trust her a hundred percent and not question any of her decisions. If he did question her, she would leave him. Drastic condition by today's standards and by my own belief in transparent communication! That not withstanding and given that love is blind, Santanu crazy about Ganga accepted her only condition. Soon after marriage, Ganga conceived. But as soon as she delivered she took the infant to the river and drowned it. A shocked Santanu could merely watch. This happened seven times over and each time a devastated Santanu became a tormented bystander but did not break his vow. The eighth time he saw Ganga walking with the infant towards the river he could not contain himself and questioned her ghastly actions. Patiently she explained to him that she had promised these souls salvation and hence agreed to be their mother. Given that Santanu had questioned her motives, the vow to the last such soul was broken and the last child would live. Also as per their prenup she would leave him. The legend has it that this was the seed that planted the tree that bore the fruit of the epic battle of Mahabharata between the Kauravas and Pandavas. 

The reason I narrated the story above is because if we were to turn a blind eye to the absence of separation of the church and the state, church being used symbolically for religion, then there is merit in looking across the spectrum and we will find there to be enough advocates of mothers' rights and the saying that mother knows the best. 

Steering back to a fact based discussion, my attention is also drawn to the disabled. What happens to those women who are either physically disabled and conceive by force or those who soon after conceiving become physically challenged. How can someone unable to take care of themselves, a hundred percent independently, be forced to take care of an infant who needs to be attended to day and night! Will state provide means for these mothers and if yes who will fund that? 

Of course, at the moment it's twenty six states that will rejoice in the acceptance of this ruling. Which means there are twenty four options for the thirty six million women impacted. But to access these and the international options they will need to have adequate financing or else they will need to go to courts where their right to privacy will be shred into rags. For a capitalist country this works I think, if one has the money one has the solution. And yet it seems so inhuman and unfair. 

As a woman I love children and I believe that their innocence brings hope and learning in the crazy times we live in. I believe that we should bring children in the world but also that the world should be a safe and happy place for them. As a woman I also know the challenges that a female mind and body goes through to be able to bear children. It is not a journey that everyone may want to undertake. As a woman I do feel for the victims and the disabled and what their mental makeup could be due to their own agony. How can we force a way of life on them ! As a woman I feel that this is a pre-conceived judgement that is not just unfair and reeking of inequality, I also feel while women have silently and patiently nurtured, loved and sustained life for generations this is just putting them through a fire test they did not sign up for.

I do hope a constitutional amendment at some point will come through and on that optimistic note I sign off for this time. 

Love - Emotional and Material

 As I listen to "बेकस पे करम कीजिए" yet another time, my mind drifts from the music to the context of the song. My chest sort of starts to cave when I begin to think of the fact that Anarkali was sentenced to be buried alive in that brick wall; all because she happened that fall in love with a man who was also the prince! How could that one emotion that every religion, every Seer, every God in the world defines to be pure and supreme get this punishment! Why would a ruler not understand how compassionate and authentic his son was if he loved a commoner! What could be more painful for Salim and Anarkali than knowing they loved but could not live that love! These are not questions but jarring emotions that have now caused my chest cavity to cave totally...

Well Anarkali lived and Salim ruled as the story says, and whether fact or fiction, there are many real tales like this one that abound. But my shock and bewilderment have no answer or atonement to be found. 

The epitome of love in my view are Lord Shankar and Devi Parvati. A king's daughter, she married the Yogi living in the hills. In her previous life as Sati, she married Lord Shiva even though her father was not a supporter. When she immolated herself in the fire of the yajna, Lord Shiva was bereft and Sari was born as Devi Parvati to bring about the worldly balance that had been lost. So when love can surmount the obstacles of life and death why can it not survive the economic differences that Salim and Anarkali faced? 

Of course this is a philosophical post and thought. One that is not accounting for practical implications. I could understand opposition if one person was a criminal, or dishonest and lacking integrity, or  mentally and physically abusive. However, aside from these, at least I cannot comprehend opposition to love based on caste, religion or economic standing. Naive as it may be, it is my truth. 

I continue to dig deeper and see a strong correlation between economics and such heartless and indifferent decisions. As the human race has progressed materially we have regressed emotionally. Power, stature,  wealth, physical attributes and personal gains dominate the decision making frameworks that we deploy even to take life shaping decisions. And I saw that up, close and personal at a very young age. 

There was a reasonably good friend who had decided to tell the man she was dating that her heart was probably not entirely in the relationship. There was no one else but there was a hope for someone different. She wanted to be honest. However, before she could voice her feelings, he proposed to her with the information of a double promotion and a move overseas. She saw this as her ticket to a life overseas with someone paying for her Masters. The marriage was solemnised. They remain married to date but I am no longer in contact. This was not opposition but proposition because of material factors. I was younger and more idealistic. It played with the circuitry of my brain and so I never spoke to her again. Lack of integrity was unnerving personally. Today I do think that maybe her circumstances drove her to take the path of least resistance and maybe I can understand at some level why she did what she did. I am hoping to reconnect, at leat in this case one heart was overjoyed...

A few years later, older and wiser, I was visiting a friend who was totally devoted to his Christian fiancee. While he was born into a Hindu family, he counted himself as an atheist. His was a family of privileges and hers was of limited means. But their love for one another was real and they were ok to work their way through life's hardships. However, on that visit, my friend mentioned that he would call off the engagement because his parents could not fight the society on both the economic and religious fronts! I was appalled! I had hoped that he would work with his parents to get them to come around. He is intelligent and super well educated. If not him, who else could convince the family. However, the pressure got to him. For a few years after that he was miserable and then met someone who fit the criteria and who he cared about. But she did not light the spark in his eyes as She did! He got married and has a good life. Not sure if it's the happiest he could be though. Of course I am very much in touch with them...

And while I have seen a number of examples of the kind mentioned above, my absolute favorite and fondest story of love surmounting obstacles is that of Mr Pea and Ms Key. I love these two friends to the moon and back. Their journey was not easy. But straying away from the post, their journey was difficult because Ms Key was OMG so difficult. For Mr Pea it was love at first sight and I would love to be able to have a great Bollywood director direct the scene of when they first met! Smitten and swooning, I would have endless hours of phone conversations how Ms Key was the soulmate. She on the other hand was absolutely disgusted with this knowledge. So I was getting polar opposite feedback from two people and I could tell neither who felt what. My cauldron boiled higher each day! Then Ms Key decided to spend two months in Dubai. I took Mr Pea for coffee and explained to him that there were "other fish in the sea" and he should move on. While he told me he would, he did not. This limbo continued for at least three years and then one fine day I was summoned by Ms Key. If I wanted her friendship I had to drop everything and go to her place. I ran, metaphorically that is. 

Reaching her place I found a pensive Ms Key unable to comprehend how she had not recognised true love for all these years. She now wanted to pour her heart out but knew not where she stood. While he had not explicitly spoken to me post that coffee, I knew where he stood. Yet, I could not give any guarantees. I wanted to protect her, just in case. So I told her that she had no down side in meeting him that evening and having an honest conversation. She was scared and hesitant but agreed that this was the best course of action. So we took the bus that went to Mr Pea's house. Dropping her there I continued home in the same bus, with every moment becoming an eon of waiting. Those days there were no mobile phones. So I had to get home to know the outcome. 

The bus stopped about half a kilometre away from home. I jumped out and ran, like literally ran home. Panting and perspiring I desperately rang the door bell and as soon as the door opened the landline started ringing. I pounced on the phone as if my life depended on it. And well it was a very cool and calm Mr Pea on the other end. As much as he was elated, his voice was expressionless. I had no joy speaking to him and so just asked for Ms Key. When she came on the line and I could hear her smile and I had tears of joy. They got married years later and for ythat wedding I flew down from London. Would not have missed it for anything at all. 

That story makes me smile, always!

Love is divine and love is what makes the world go round. It may not be deep emotional love, it may be love for wealth, power, stature, physical attributes and personal gains. But it is love that makes the world go round. I just wish that we would all recognise pure, authentic, unadulterated emotional love and respect that emotion. The world would be a better place...

A New Flight

In this topsy-turvy time, the one thing that has remained steadfast is the daily sunrise and sunset. In these uncertain times, the one thing that gives hope is the unrestricted and uninhibited flights of the soaring birds. In these strange times, the one thing that brings familiarity and comfort are those who you can be with. And that is what I saw as I walked this sixtieth evening of the corona quarantine times.

As the phone clicked to capture this image, I could not help but smile in gratitude and humility. Both the emotions came from three very different angles, three that I thought of sharing.

The very first one is in gratitude of nature and in humility of how even today, after humanity has plundered so much of it, nature seems to be working constantly to sustain humanity. The sun still shines to give us food, the rivers still flow to give us water and the wind still blows to ease the heat. Nature may want to reclaim its glory, but it is not blazing Armageddon. The warning shot may be with rage but not in revenge. It is those open spaces that have not been plundered to be populated by mankind that are sanctuaries of safety, and ready to take those who will accept the unfamiliar ways of life. Such love, compassion and tolerance are the most prominent traits of mothers and it is no wonder that from time in memorial we have been taught of the beauty of mother nature and mother earth. I bow down to the greatness of these mothers who are trying to forgive us and help us find a new way of life that may be more of collaboration and co-existence.

The second one is in gratitude of the untiring and heroic service of the front line workers, and in humility of the unrelenting human spirit.  These have not been easy times even for those who have comfort of a roof on their heads and food in their stomachs. And in these times when you want to be with the ones you love the healthcare workers are rallying day after day to ensure that they can help as many recover as possible, not just from corona but from other ailments as well. All the while being the most vulnerable to this so far incurable infection. Just as them, it is the law enforcers who hear the brickbats and the criticism and yet are out there to ensure that they can maintain discipline which is the first line of prevention in the current times; even if it means they catch the virus. Joining these brave forces are the city sanitation and cleanliness workers who are ensuring that the spread of other diseases is curtailed, the public transport employees who are getting all of the above to their stations of duties, the logistics teams ferrying medicine and food globally and locally to make sure everyone has enough, those who are getting the essentials to you and me putting themselves at risk and then there are the volunteers. There are so many other segments who are working to keep life as uncomplicated as it can be, that I cannot name them all here, but I sincerely salute them all.

And last but not the least I am in gratitude of the those who told me I was being a romantic, forcing me to see the other side of the coin and I am humbled by their acceptance of the stark reality. At the start of the pandemic, as India went into a lockdown, I said India would never be the same again. Of course, the world was never going to be the same again but the romantic in me theorised that this was the nation’s second world war moment. The moment where the millennials stopped to spend and started to save, where the entrepreneurs stopped to cut the pie and started to cooperate to grow the pie, and where the politicians forgot their differences and adopted bipartisanship to sail us through to the other side of the storm. What the last two months have highlighted though is while the millennials may be seeing a new way of life, our industry and political system is far too hard wired to bring in the shake that we need. It has been disappointing to say the least!  We could have done a lot more and for a lot less! We could have done for a lot more with a lot less! There truly have been some great decisions but the setback is when we look at some of the more recent decisions. They are not just confounding but incomprehensible. I want answers and have reached out for them but am but a mere ordinary citizen and hence received only what I deserve: silence. My balloon deflated, I feel defeated because probably naïve as it was, I overinvested in the belief of good and the judgement of the wise.

Yet in this defeat lies victory: victory of the human spirit of which mine is a part! I may have learnt a lesson but I am ready to embrace this new normal, ready to embody the sun daily and do my part, ready to hope again and fly with the birds and ready to stand with those who are mine because they are the ones who I answer to and who understand.

Be well and stay safe!

Shades of human

It had been a long day. A lot had transpired. I was filing my thoughts and planning for tomorrow. Other passengers had probably had their share of efforts and gratifications. And so there was very little activity at the boarding gate. An occasional cough, a soft murmer or a silent large yawn were the only distractions. 

All of sudden he came running down the escalator and frantically started searching; for what or whom no one knew but his panic was visible. As sudden was his appearance was his total pause, right in my face. He bent forward and from the back rest of my seat retrieved a scarf; a ladies hand woven scarf that I had kept there when sitting on the only empty seat I saw. With a smile and immense relief he walked away with his (or her) possession. Others went back to what they were doing but I kept staring at him.

What had caused his panic? Who did the scarf belong to? Why was his smile wider than the extent of his relief? The answers and the ensuing permutations and combinations can create myriad, very interesting tales. I could venture into some conjecturing but it may spoil, or stray your own storyline that has started taking shape, and so I am refraining. 

But if I can restraint myself from some momentary harmless conjecturing, then what causes me to bucket people in types and their behaviour in solid hues when a longer interaction can reveal otherwise... Just like numerous possibilities exist as cause of and context to the reaction of the man I encountered, there are as many circumstances and experiences that shape each one of us. Add to that individual desires, ambitions and hopes; and we have only shades of the spectrum and no single colour standing out. 

I hope that some day I will be able to solve the mystery of what drives the hearts and minds but until then let this be a resolve that I will enjoy the shades of the spectrum, even when I am keen to find one solid colour to paint the situation with. 

Signing off and hoping for a now delayed but not further postponed take off. 

True to myself

Those who know me probably also know that jewellery and makeup are two areas where I have limited interest. Not that I don't wear either, but more that my use of both is limited. Of makeup far more than that of jewellery. Hence it was no surprise that I was resisting my sit down with the makeup artist pre the corporate film shoot. But well I also realised that the shoot was not about me and I had a responsibility to ensure that it was a success. So, I gave in, with caveats though. 

Oh, I am all for good grooming, pleasant presentation and smart appearances. Personally, what is tedious about make up is three fold - time consuming application,  ponderous procurement and elongated post use care rituals. All that takes up mind space and useful time. A gloss and a mascara, in my view suffice for most occasions and are my staples. I admire those who use makeup well, though as I lack the skill.

Anyway, back to the main discussion. I was quiet through the process and spoke only when I felt too much was being applied. Post, while the experts clearly said it was natural and colleagues were generous with compliments, when I saw the mirror I was frowning. This minimalistic makeup also looked caked up to my naked eyes. This was not me! The carefree me was worried about smudges. The easy me was listing the don'ts. The me was getting used to the layered me. 

What struck me was how the situation was similar to human interactions. A small veering away from the true self can be so energy consuming that it becomes exhausting. Focussing largely on what the other person may want or expect creates responses which may shadow the original and then keeping up becomes wearying. And just like no foundation and no concealer can completely cover the blemishes, no amount of put on behavior can hide the original attitude forever. 

So why is it that we are afraid of being who we are? Why do validations become so important that we let the true self hide behind masks? When is it that we will happily acknowledge that it is alright to be different and yet hold on to our dreams? Every colour has its own place in the spectrum, every flower is beautiful in its own way and every single star adds to the brightness of a dark night. If all these have their places secure why are human beings so insecure?

The tug of Life

I am but one individual, yet I have multiple roles to fulfill. I am but one person, yet I have many different dreams. I am but one human being and I guess that is where I have one responsibility and one reality - to acknowledge and appreciate my mortaliy. It is my responsibility to acknowledge it, so that I never get complacent or inhuman in my dealings with others. It is my reality to appreciate, so that everyday I can enjoy the beauty that the world brings my way. And only with this realisation will I be able to do justice to all my different roles and achieve my varied dreams. This truth of life, the one that will finally decide if it was a life worth lived, gives meaning to all that I struggle for. 

A few years ago, walking along the holy Ganges in Benares, the Benevolent One told me that everyday one should cross a crematorium. A much younger and a less wiser me was stunned and a bit taken aback by his statement. He for one has always known my thoughts before I have, and so instantly he said it's because that is where your Lord Shiva resides. I took heart and smiled in relief. Today, older and wiser I understand what he actually meant - everyday we must acknowledge our mortality, because that is thought, which destroys all our sorrows and unwanted agony. I have not been able to achieve that level of calm yet, but now whenever I am troubled by my ego or arrogance in personal interactions I turn to this thought. In the long run if it won't make a difference, holding on to that ego or arrogance is not worth it. So I try to drop it. I am only trying and I will keep trying. In time my success or failure will be there for my inner circle to assess. 

At work though it is a different approach. A little aggression is needed, at times, to get just that most important but that last amount of work done. I have been known to have felt extremely guilty after having been tough at work. At times I have even spoken to friends asking if they have lost their patience because someone would either just not do what was asked or would not understand and keep repeating mistakes. And at that point, not taking a tough stand could result in missed deadlines or unmet performance targets; both of which can cost the company and other colleagues very dearly. So I may be guilty of seeming to be unkind and harsh, but in the long run I believe it to be a requirement. 

A few years ago, at a leadership training session, all attendees were asked to write their own one line obituaries. It was probably  the toughest assignment I have ever done, but one that I will never forget. I wrote my tombstone that read, "The change maker, hand holder and smile provider." I was a banker then, but nowhere did the words deal maker, money spinner or go getter, appear in the shortlist I put together. It was an exercise that made me think of what I really wanted from life. The answer emerged - to create something, to positively impact lives, to minimise suffering and struggles and to be there for the ones I love. As the answer emerged, so did the opportunity; and I moved to manufacturing. 

The last three and a half years I have probably grown, learnt and contributed the most in my short life so far. But when I look ahead I have so much more that I would like to do, understand, and give, that I do not want to lose a minute of this precious life. I don't want to waste time agonising over what I missed, but I want to cherish and build on what I have. I don't want to ponder on the what if, but I want to seize the moment and see if it is where I find my treasure. I don't want to have to regret, but I want to say what I feel.

I have never lived a life that would conform to a type. I have borne enough burdens of expectations of stereotypes. I can only live if I can stay true to my unique style. And just for that I will have to remember that just like life, every moment is transient. It will all only make sense when it all comes to an end. But before the curtain drops, I need to play my part, say my lines, sing my songs and laugh out loud. Only then will there be an opportunity to stand up and ask if I did justice to the role I was handed...

The Frequented Roads...

I am not sure how or when it happens, but at some point in our lives we need to take one of the two roads; turn into the one being treaded by a small group of optimists or take the more crowded one, the one popular with the cynics. The paths run parallel for most part, converging at some points where once again we have the option of making a choice. However, it is not in our hands to change the course as and when we desire. It usually turns out that those who start as optimists, at some point or the other turn into cynics. Thus the road travelled less always keeps on the lookout for more travelers but it remains disappointed…

The road less travelled, at the beginning of the journey, lures the excited adventurer with its greenery and beauty. What the traveler does not realize is that just as the spring does not remain forever; neither does the beauty of the road less travelled. Soon autumn sets in and the bare trees surround the weary paths. This is not what the explorer signed on for. Feeling cheated, at the next fork, he takes on the other road.

With crowds along the road, it is understood and acknowledged that beauty will be rare. The previous experience conditions the mind to accept the fall weather and not to look forward to the spring. But then if suddenly, for a mere stretch for a hundred yards, there is a blossoming of flowers; the traveler’s memory goes back to the starting point of the road less travelled. At the next fork, does the traveler change his course? Depends on how adventurous the traveler is. But most us we get accustomed to the fractions of beauty on the barren path. Fearing that we would want more, we leave the thought of revisiting the road less traveled.

It is sad yet it is true – the easier path is always to be with the crowd. There is no certainty that the road less traveled will ever reveal its beautiful spring and summer gardens again. For all one knows, the autumn may be followed by a severe winter; one that chills the bones and forever erodes the memory and desire of spring. So while there may be hope left, it is best to curb expectations. It is best to follow the tried and tested path and stick to the path where you know what you will get. Then if you chance upon a miraculous garden at a fork, maybe you can go ahead and savor the beauty; but remember to return to the ways of the most. There is safety there…

Second Chance

Each one of us deserves a second chance; a chance to make amends, to travel the road not taken or just to be what we can be. When life repeatedly knocks at our doorstep with that chance and gives it to us not once, not twice but over and over again and we do not take it; what should we call ourselves? If we see this happening, how do we awaken the other person; or do we at all? If we want to give that chance, then should we? Are second chances as exciting, as enticing as the first timers?

The New Nomadic Life

A recent article in the Financial Times (http://msittig.freeshell.org/articles/FinT_TribalWorkers.html) labelled the current generation of ambitious achievers, “Tribal Workers”. It was not a belittling tag nor was the phrase used derogatorily. The author was only attempting to describe, how today’s youth, just like their tribal ancestors wants to have as little roots/commitments as possible. However, while the tribes were nomadic to hunt for food to satiate hunger, today’s youth is looking for greener pastures to satisfy intellectual curiosity. Be it relationships or be it jobs, all is meant to be transitory, teaching one in the process.

I happened to discuss this with a friend, a bright and successful hedge fund manager, and he did not accept the point of view that myriad experiences are necessary to satisfy intellectual curiosity. In his words “there is more to life than a job”. I was surprised, as in my interactions hedge fund professionals are probably the most ambitious, driven and intelligence seeking individuals around. Clearly this person, despite his life and education on three continents, seems to have a different view. I tend to agree with my friend when he says, “God has been gracious and given us a lot. It cannot just be a free lunch that we are supposed to eat and forget”.

So if I hear my friend; we need to have a life outside of the work place. But what is that life? Is it a cause that we are committed to (but that is again sort of work right?)? Is it a hobby that we are devoted to? Is it a family? Is it friends? What is that which will make life wholesome? As the weekend draws to a close slowly, I think I am starting to look for the answer leisurely.

The Truth...

The last few days have forced me to think once more. Think about what I value and what I want out of life. There have been different people that I have met in different parts of the world, yet the message seems to have been loud and clear – power, money and sex are the motivations and desires of most people. It seems strange to me that intellect and honesty have not figured on most lists. Actually I should rephrase that. Intelligence and truth are not deemed “in fashion” in their purest forms. Wisdom is thought to be of use only if it generates cash and truth is attractive only if packaged with some sex appeal.

While majority of the people are telling me this, the silly me is fascinated by Gandhi’s autobiography – My experiments with truth. My little brain reasons; Gandhi did not accumulate wealth for self nor was his honesty sold with physical pleasures. On the contrary, this man who believed that “nothing is impossible for pure love” actually secured the treasure of freedom for the nation at the cost of his own family. He gave up physical pleasures (not just sexual but even those of taste and the touch of silk) in his quest to test his own endurance. The world holds him as an iconic example of a model human being. So was Gandhi wrong, am I naïve or is the world just hypocritical?

Unable to find the answer, I am confused and agitated. Why does everything boil down to sex, money and power? Is it worth believing in love, having faith in a supreme power, valuing knowledge and astuteness and dealing with integrity and sincerity? Or is it wiser following the world, seeking pleasures and hoarding materialistic gains? Will there ever be a time when mankind will cherish the pure values that Gandhi promoted and true love conquer the current and future generations?

I take a deep breath and close my eyes. I do not have the answers and fear ridicule with this post. However, I am interested in knowing the world’s view and the truth. So I am risking this post, putting myself out there and being who I am; because there is no other way that I know how to live other than being honest with myself at least...

Regaining the Lost Balance

I cannot help but wonder why some people are just so important in our lives. How is it that they leave marks which are hard to erase? Why do they say things which are impossible to ignore? Why is it that their dreams become ours? These people are parents, siblings, friends, betterhalfs and then at some point our own children.

Ever since my return to India I have been absorbing the love of all my relationships. It has suddenly made me feel that the world is a little vase filled with the water of love with flowers of relationships blooming. I love this feeling and am grateful for it.

With these relationships come obligations. Not all of them are imposed; most of these are self impositions as emotions are hard to ignore. Accustomed to skating on the ice of life with freedom, suddenly maintaining the grace with the additional weight to pull is becoming tricky. Even though I use the word weight, I do not imply burden. I am just unable to describe what I have in tow; it is a voluntary baggage that I not only have selected but I need. I am a people’s person and those who are close to me are more important to me than everything else. So when I neglect them for work, I am taken over by guilt.

Calvin and Hobbs waited for an hour and I met them. One has been my lucky charm for years together and the other my absolute best friend in this whole wide world. The two of them together with me, it is happening after 3 years. It is a dream come true and yet not only did I make them wait but was on the phone with work for a long time after we met. While they repeatedly kept saying, “Tanu, its just work, relax,” I know they understand. Still I did not understand my own priorities. This is probably the most important time in both their lives and yet I was preoccupied.

Why are choices in life so difficult? Why is it that with the increase in sophistication and progress of technology, the availability of time for all that truly matters is becoming scarce? Why cannot feelings be just feelings and be felt? I wish I could regain my balance and poise; and glide and sail with all the love, emotions and career progression in tow. Is it too much to ask? If it is then I think I have prioritized, not in action yet but in words already.

Wish I had just some more time!

Yesterday I stormed into the hospital room and opened the curtains. He was lying on the bed and smiling. His smile made me feel warm. It gave me the confidence that I could probably be a little stern and get my way with him. All I wanted to do was to make him sit on his own. And he did albeit with a little bit of coaxing, some cajoling and yes even some emotional blackmailing. Yet I achieved my aim and hence was eagerly hopeful.

Today I walked into the room and found him in pain. The surgery and the anaesthesia had disoriented him more than his illness already had. I gently walked up to him and he took my hand into his. He clutched it tight and motioned me to sit by him. His grip was firm, despite his age and the wretched Parkinson’s, and that said all he wanted to but is unable to – he wants me close. His only grandchild in the city and I am not there for him for more than just a few hours in a week.

I can recall numerous evenings of umpteen summer vacations when I held on to his hand to cross the road and go horse riding. He never let go of my hand till I was on the horse. If I accompanied him to his morning walks, he would hold my hand as I stepped on the rocks by the sea and urge me to be careful. He would even hold my hand as I threw the grains to feed the pigeons on the terrace. Today, it is he who is holding on to my hand; and expects nothing but some time. Time to sit by him and talk to him not waiting for a response. Time to help him say all that he is feeling. Time so that he can be a grandfather once again. But alas! It is time that I do not have.

So caught up am I with the responsibilities of my own life that I have to ration it for the person who is responsible for the life that I have and I lead. If not for him I would not have had parents that I do. If not for his insistence, education would not have been valued like it is in my conservative family. If it was not he who encouraged not only his granddaughters today but also his daughters forty years ago to have a career, I would probably not be independent. So if not for him I would have not had the chance to know myself. And today that I do, I am too caught up with myself!

Ironic! He helped me be where I am today and I am unable to help him today. He stroked my head just a couple of years ago as I lay with my head in his lap. Now, I cannot even stroke his hand for long enough to comfort him. He was the one who was most eager for me to return to India. And my return seems to have disappointed him the most!

If such is the compromise required where I need to forsake emotional fulfilment for financial independence, not fully undertake my duties because I choose to endorse other responsibilities and where my ideals constantly clash with practicality; then I question if we as a generation are on the right path of growth. With the growing availability of resources, are we becoming more efficient or just more complacent? Or am I just being overly sentimental?

Convicted of Indecision

“I tarried in indecision a moment too long….” says Jane Finch and throws me into thinking whether I am guilty of the same. I stand accused in my own eyes, but maybe I do have a defence. Hesitation and over analysis. Insecurity and lack of confidence. Fear and worry of appearances. All these powerful and legitimate emotions contributed to the indecision, snatching away the moment to act.

Its a few days later and my indecision has come to haunt me. If only I did not swing like a pendulum taking an eternity whether to act or not, and given in to the first instinct to act, I would be absolved from this position of the accused.

The deed though is done and I cannot change what occurred. However, I can apologise and hope that my apologies are accepted, with the knowledge that the indecision was not deliberate.

Question still remains – why do we human beings tarry in indecision only to regret later? Is it ok to be decisive even though one might appear to be outlandish?

I ask this even though I would like to believe Taleb when he says - “To be honorable implies not fearing the appearance and consequences of being outlandish.” Convicted of indecision once again!

The Commitment of Unconditional Acceptance

There are always two sides to a coin and each one has its own sheen and appeal. There are always two roads to choose from and each has its own allure and value proposition. Life is about choices and at some point, each one of us needs to make one. Perhaps the most important of binary decisions in life is whether to stay single or enter into a union.

Single existence can be hassle free. It brings with it a certain amount of freedom which enables an individual to make spontaneous decisions and live life at an exciting pace. There is a sense of belonging to oneself without having to bear the burden of responsibility. Opportunities to satisfy varied curiosities can be taken full advantage of in existing as a single person. Human craving for a social interaction can also be catered to via friends, colleagues and other relationships.

However, there is one key aspect of life that is missing from the lives of single people and that is unconditional acceptance. There are just two sources of such acceptance in my view – one is the love of God and the other is the true love of a fellow human being. Unconditional acceptance, because of love for someone, does the work of fuel in the fire in the life of a single individual.

Love does not add responsibility but it shares burdens. Affection does not restrict spontaneous decision making but adds to life’s excitements with another like minded individual’s spontaneity. Commitment does not restrict sampling opportunities but provides a comfort zone of satisfying curiosities without being judged. Togetherness with one individual, who can become a best friend, complements interaction with every other friend or colleague and ensures that individual weaknesses are turned into strength.

Companionship with the right individual is probably the only window which provides a view of both the east and the west. It is the only avenue where the two sides of the coin meet to create brilliance that each side cannot imagine on its own. It is the cross roads where the value propositions of both prongs come together into a pool of abundance.

There is no right or wrong in any decision that an individual makes. However, there always is a better proposition for the one who is well thought, well read and more aware. Then the choice to make is only hinging on hesitation and resistance to change. Is that the choice of an intelligent individual...

Tug of War

On my way back to London this afternoon, I was sitting on the train seeing the French country side pass by. The lush green fields and bright blue skies had me smiling through the journey. The pristine landscape had me day dreaming – what would it be like to sit in the fields, jot down the myriad thoughts in my mind and listen to soft music playing on a piano. At that moment, in all sincerity, I wanted to float on the clouds and see the world, have a camera and capture the beauty of nature’s creations, take a pen and describe every passing moment and save it all for posterity. The child in me wanted to spring out and run wild. Is it just me or does every one feel the same at some point or the other? If not as crazy as these, everyone must have some tugs and pulls for adventure? Or maybe there is only a fleeting thought, yet a thought, of trying something new, something different from the routine?

Maybe, maybe not. Personally, over the last twelve months there have been a few occasions when I have felt the urge to switch lanes. Maybe do a PhD in behavioral finance, take up guitar lessons or maybe even spend some time traveling over the world. However, I love what I do at work. I enjoy having the opportunity to establish a business practice in India and learn more about the Indian economy, capital markets and regulations. Now I have discovered that I enjoy writing. I might not be great at it, but I still like being able to communicate and in return train my mind to think through one issue at a time. (Otherwise my mind has the tendency to wander in ten different directions simultaneously!) As they say, so much to do and such little time. Life is too short and too fast. This does not seem fair! Does it?

However, is it really just the love of work that is binding me to my desk? No, and I am sure everyone is intelligent to guess the same. If I am being honest, it is also because I am used to a certain lifestyle. I am scared to give up the regular pay cheques that afford me my standard of living. It is this fear that curbs my temptations and pushes me towards achieving more professionally. While it is a blessing in disguise that my so called fear pushes me ahead professionally, I think in the long run it would do me good to sit down and take a stock of where I want to be and what I want to be doing. Without this clarity after a few years, I might find myself in an unhappy and unfulfilling situation. Hence I have decided that my next vacation will be dedicated to some introspection.

I am not going to bore you all with my introspection (I guess I already have to some extent so let me qualify the statement by adding “further” before the word introspection). What I would, however, like to share with you is a conversation that I had with Chandler a few nights ago (for those who do not know this absolutely adorable individual please read my post on Beer). After a few glasses of wine and some absolutely scrumptious dinner (cooked by the master Chef, Chandler, himself) Chandler was geared up to discuss “life and the choices we make in life”. In his view, every individual lives a life based on the choices he makes. From education to profession to relationships, at every turn of life, each individual makes a decision on the road he wishes to traverse. However, my contention is that in today’s fast paced life, not every individual sees the road forking at points where the choices present themselves. I think in some instances the realization of having an option does not even dawn upon people until much later. Or as it is my case, the realization of the existence of options might exist, there even might be the ability to take the road less traveled, but the fear of unknown can keep individuals away from trying out something new. So while we all might have choices I am not convinced that with our lives as they are, we acknowledge the presence of these choices.

Is it us, is it the pace of life, is it social pressures and expectations or is it just plain simple capitalism that is driving our generation? While I am trying to answer this question myself and analyze why we opt for the alternatives that we do, I would love some assistance and views. At the same time I would like to leave you with a poem, from one of my favourite poets, Robert Frost. Do let me know what you think.

Until next time, Auf Wiedersehen!

The Road Not Taken – Robert Frost (1920)

Two roads diverged in a yellow wood,
And sorry I could not travel both
And be one traveler, long I stood
And looked down one as far as I could
To where it bent in the undergrowth;

Then took the other, as just as fair,
And having perhaps the better claim,
Because it was grassy and wanted wear;
Though as for that the passing there
Had worn them really about the same,

And both that morning equally lay
In leaves no step had trodden black.
Oh, I kept the first for another day!
Yet knowing how way leads on to way,
I doubted if I should ever come back.

I shall be telling this with a sigh
Somewhere ages and ages hence:
Two roads diverged in a wood, and I—
I took the one less traveled by,
And that has made all the difference