The Alchemy of Pain

 Ever since I was  6 yrs. old,  I have been sketching pages after pages ..books after books of just two drawings -  an eagle and a Unicorn with wings.

Why?  - I do not know.

So, when Tattoo came up as an option  - many years later – I knew what I wanted. I had already got the eagle on my arm – it was now time for the Unicorn.

After a lot of research and discussion with my tattoo artist friend, Swapnil, I decided on the perfect (according to me) unicorn – and I also decided I wanted it on my nape. This was a birthday gift from me to me.

Excited I went to Swapnil’s  studio, and he traced the Unicorn on my nape – it was quite big  - I was excited – and could not wait to get started.

In all this excitement of  - finally!! – I  had forgotten one thing about me – I had a very low pain threshold – just getting my eyebrows done is a 40 minutes – wet eyes and lot of tissues  - ordeal.

So when he stared with the first curve – I literally had goose bumps from the excruciating pain (all those people who, when they see a tattoo – and ask  - “does it hurt? “  - the answer is  f#$%^ …YES . and on the neck ..It hurts even more)

I had to ask Swapnil to pause – while I could breathe – He let me have my time -  I was ready and he started again … the pain was so intense that it shot through my very core and involuntary tears rolled from my eyes – I pulled away from him instinctively – he saw my tears and started laughing …

It was funny. I was also laughing at the silliness..after all I was the one who asked for it... but on the very inside. Outside -  the pain was real and white. The humour was lost on it's way out..

I realized that the Unicorn was big – and would take many “strokes” – I had no idea how I was going to get through this…

My rational mind kept kicking me in the head  - why did I have to select such a big picture – could I not do with a ‘small’ one? - so much pain – and tears… 

Because THAT is what I wanted – nothing else – I had just not bargained for the price.

And now there was no going back.

I figured that I would have to walk through this …how? - I had no idea.

I went back and decided to be “wilful” and courageous ..he started again .. I bit my lip and clenched my fists and sat- forcing myself not to whimper or pull away – I was all wound up.

This way.. it worked a little – I got through 5 minutes this time before I pulled away again…

Swapnil grumbled kindly , that this whole tattoo was going to take non stop 2 hours and if I kept stopping every 5 minutes we would take forever…

I was dizzy with all the pain -  holding back and not breathing…

It felt like I had reached the pinnacle of pain

There was nowhere to go - to hide . What I was running away from, had fully caught up with me.
I realised I could not  - now,  mid way turn back.

Turning back was NOT an option.

And then..  something shifted inside me…

I realized that the Pain was inevitable – the delicate skin was scratched by three needles at the same time.. blood oozed .. it was going to happen - I could not wish it away - there was no choice.

But… suffering was in my mind.. and therefore ... I had a choice.

I decided to separate the pain from suffering.

With this new perspective and strategy I went back . I still didn't know if this would work..but I had to find out .

Just getting this clarity and seeing this choice - I felt calmer and in a different place on the inside.

No longer – clenched and closed

This acceptance of the inevitable pain somehow had allowed me to become soft and open once again…

Swapnil started – and the a shaft of pain went down my spine – I stayed and just breathed in the pain – and relaxed into my body… in my mind instead of running away from my neck - I went there and stayed there - as a few minutes went by with more strokes  - my breathing became more steady and then dropped into a normal pace.. the sensation of pain on my neck was there – but since  I had decided not to suffer – I could “watch” the pain and not be in pain.

I decided to “see” the pain more closely just to amuse myself  – I started to hear the buzz of the needles and the change in the rhythm as Swapnil changed the direction of the needed – it was a surreal experience – like I was watching a  slow motion movie – It felt like it was happening somewhere far off and my mind kept doing it usual wander -  nothing forced - no rejection – even when I kept coming back to the process deliberately   .

Swapnil would stop for some rest on his own every 20 minutes or so…But for the rest of the duration I didn't so much as flinch .

I realized I had had an epiphany – I realized in a real situation and not intellectually – that suffering was a choice.

Years later going through Vipassana I realized that the sanskrit word for Pain was "Vedana" and research told me that the root word for Vedana  was "Ved" meaning Wisdom. When I blocked or ran away from pain - I was also blocked the wisdom that would  come from it. 

It's so beautiful the way nature attaches the most powerful wisdom and lessons to an experience of pain so that we are 'fully' alive in that moment -like birth - like the caterpillar .

I keep remembering this lesson – especially when I am going through physical or emotional pain. That  all I need to do is just these 3 things:

Accept

Breathe

Choose

And this too shall pass - My unicorn is my teacher.

Food for thought.

I never realized house hunting could be such an enriching experience. It’s not over ..and neither is the merry-go-round.

I was waiting for the agent in the wrong (or maybe the right after all) place…I decided to make the most of my wait.. and casually asked a shopkeeper if there were houses on rent in that area, that he knew of– turns out this guy himself was an agent – and  - “would I want to see a house in that very building ?,  how synchronous I think, –that was about to go on rent? – Of course I said – and went with this person to the 6th floor flat – obviously unannounced.

The lady of the house was unapologetically annoyed with the agent for “barging in on a Sunday”  and refused to allow anyone in.. I stood there just watching all this heated exchange – at least this was something different from watching the busy traffic go by noisily. She caught me looking at her and softened – I look away, slightly embarrassed, I didn't particularly want to go anyway – she addressed me and said she was sorry and it wasn't about me  and I could go in and see the house – but the agent stayed out.. I smiled ..a little amused..

She was de-shelling green peas with her 20yr. old son watching some TV show – no wonder she was annoyed – I thought. I went around the house -  it was ..well..messy and crowded and I already didn’t like it . In 2 minutes I had made up my mind….I went to see the kitchen last .same thing ..crowded.

But then I noticed the unmistakable biryani pot on the gas - with the heavy grinding stone kept on the dough sealed lid - ..simmering with promise.. and the delicious  aroma of  Hyderabadi  biryani (the best kind) reached me.. so I casually asked her if that is in fact what it was.. she was delighted and her eyes lit up as she confirmed and also added that she had made it...pause...she asks  if I  would like to eat some ..I,  of course said no.. she insisted - even as I was leaving the house after 3 minutes.... I smile and agree without too much thought or further ado.

She goes to the kitchen takes a fancy plate and I get the privilege of getting the first cut .. her maid working in the kitchen watches –unsmiling and confused.. I am after all a stranger….

I sit and eat the really delicious biryani which, Naz, my new friend has made and we talk about her kids and what she is planning to do after she moves – her pride and concern about her older sons job interview - her husbands business of interiors etc. – interjected with her very generous  - “please have some more" – and .. "I am sorry there the raita–(salad) is not ready"

As I am relishing both ,the food and the conversation, - I think of at least half a dozen friends who would give me a, well meaning, earful about my “Irresponsible behaviour” – and how can I just walk into some random house – and sit and eat a full meal…. I think about…how trust is such an effortless act and feeling in most cases.. and while the world may be turning topsy-turvy with all kinds of crimes etc.. it has not yet fallen apart. The reason, I suspect  - are these pockets of kindness and trust and connection that still exists…that underneath all the fears and prejudices people want to trust and connect.

I breathe in deeply after my last morsel.. nourished in my body and heart.

I am done with eating and ready to go now..Naz tells me that she will speak to few people about my requirement and make sure that I don't end up paying the high agent fee.. I am touched by her concern...we hug – slightly longer than what you would a -“stranger”. She assures me I am not alone in the new area should I choose to move. I smile – we exchange phone numbers and I come down .

The street is still crowded – but the strangers  have a familiar face now. I am filled with a deep sense of security and gratitude,

Anandi

It was a hot afternoon in Mumbai, the kind of hot that has sweat running in rivulets and annoyance in truckloads.  The fact that the agent ( I am house hunting) had made me wait there for over 15 minutes didn't help. I  stood and watched and  from time to time looked up in the direction I thought the agent would come from, Since I was new to this area.

As I stood there being annoyed and also looking for more reasons to justify it.. a little girl of about 8 , dusky clear complexion, sun bleached hair parted neatly  in the middle and tied into a pony, wearing a green skirt and matching top, crossed the street to my side and began picking random bits of paper . She was a rag picker .. I watch her ..with this white bag, more than half her size and certainly not empty, slung on her thin shoulders like Santa Claus and yet.. she had a rhythm in her movements as she deftly “fished” a stray piece of paper and put it in her Santa Claus bag..

She passed me by ..and our eyes met.. briefly.. I didn't smile.. I was just ..well...indifferent. She didn't smile either… she went ahead and suddenly stopped and looked back straight at me.. and we held the gaze for 3-4 seconds and then she initiated the smile…a dazzling radiant smile. It was like she was ascertaining if she could trust me ..and had decided she could., all in 3 seconds. Having now decided .. she retraced her steps and walked up to me.. I was beginning  to be slightly curious and less irritable..

She came and stood a couple of feet  away from me ..and asked, in that non presumption direct tone, that only kids can,  “what was I doing here” in Hindi.. I smiled., an amused smile,  again remembering , what was I doing here…waiting for the agent I said.. pause…for the last 25 minutes(I emphasised – complaining tone and all) ..

It crossed  my mind that she may not know what agent meant – but I wasn’t in a mood for conversation – and wanted to stay irritable – “Oh”,  she  replied. – paused and looked like she was thinking  - I waited - then she went on to tell me that she didn't have a house , they lived on a street near by – and that she earned money by picking rags.

I was a little taken aback - did she understand that implication of what waiting to meet an agent meant? That I was looking for a house and she told me her reality?? It was possible - she had that wise street intelligence– I was now fully engaged in this conversation.

She was not done.. she stood there ..Waiting for more conversation, creating a broad groove in the invisible sand on the pavement with her bare foot.

So, I asked her  name , “Anandi” she said – The foot stopped and the smile came again.. wider this time - she liked her name, I could tell…. She asked me mine – “Rhea” - I told her – She smiled and said that It was beautiful name – I smiled – wide  (I also like my name) - I told her I liked her name as well, and that one of my friends name was Anandi also – She looked up, almost choosing to not register this -  and asked – "do you know what my name means?  - I was about to answer , but saw that she really wasn’t asking ..but waiting to tell me.. so I said no, I din't know.  - and then, just as I had suspected -  she launched into a very proud rendition of “Anandi” – one who is always happy – I was now genuinely in the conversation and watching Anandi talk and live the meaning of her name... I watched with rapt wonderment, how Anandi was creating her own reality of choosing happiness along with all the other facts of her life...everything else around me melted into silent oblivion...  Her grandma who lived in Hyderabad had named her she ended – slightly out of breath.

About 4  minutes of lessons on Anandi by Anandi.. My agent showed up.. and I was once again reminded of why really I was there – She saw him – and I saw a glimmer of disappointment in her brown eyes – It passed quickly – she looked at me with a goodbye – I didn’t want to go. I offered her the strawberries I had in my bag, in a feeble attempt to stretch this encounter – she took them  - smiled and said,  “we will talk later”  - and she walked off, while I was still deciding whether to leave her or not. She looked back once again and waved – I waived back – and my new found friend, who , I will talk to later, when and how I have no clue– walked away leaving a piece of her ”happiness” with me.

It struck me, how little it took to connect and share – and how often conversations happened from behind a laptop or a phone screen – or while flipping TV channels – and what must it to do our hearts – not really connecting as people who have no other motive. The Joy and wonder of an honest interest in another human being and being fully present in that moment...and most importantly choosing happiness. I was reminded of the lines by Khalil Gibran, "We choose our joys and sorrows long before we experience them" - Anandi had certainly exhibited this truth.

I looked up at the scorching sun and the dripping sweat , the cacophony of traffic and the agent who was just standing there – and smiled – he must be having his own story – and a very valid reason to be late. After finding happiness -  connection and compassion from “Anandi”  - I went off on my search.