Earth

I will scream from the rooftops;
And you will adjust your earphones.

I will go in yet again;
And you will continue the conversation.

I will tell you have trampled my heart;
And you will look at your shoes in wonder.

I will bring destruction sometimes;
And you will make a movie about it.

I will tell you of my soil erosion;
And you will make gods out of it.

I will get stained many times, from all the blood ;
And you will sing a National Anthem

I will stand in front of you ablaze;
And you will say you smell smoke.

Until……

~ Rhea


Last two days there is acute water shortage in our area.. When there is no water..Suddenly.. somehow..everyone was equal.. the building and the people in the slums both were pushed into a survival mode... Kids that I have seen play every day .. last night I saw them physically fighting and abusing each other.. over a bucket full of water.. and I am struck witnessing how little it takes for us for forget our humanness.. and I am hurting with two questions : 

Is the Veneer of our humanity really this thin..that a little threat to personal survival and we forget our humanity?? .. 

The way we are continuing on this earth very soon we WILL get into survival mode...will the annihilation of humanity happen with wars like this??

Integrity on wheels

After finishing a two days workshop, I was on my way home in a TAB cab,  a private cab services company.  The Cab driver, a middle-aged courteous quiet guy smiled and welcomed us. I was tired and ready to doze off, Until the Driver started sharing his story.

The Driver, Satish Rawale’s  story has two parts. One a personal story of perseverance  and Integrity. The other a successful homegrown business model..based on human goodness and ingenuity.

On a personal note, Satish who ran a successful business in his village had to leave his family , wife and two young kids, Khushi and Piyush, “who always slept on my arms, he said with a heavy voice,  and come to Mumbai to earn money. He had not studied beyond class 3. So he started working as a peon earning Rs.3500. He had a driving license but was too scared to drive on the crazy Mumbai roads, he mentioned unabashed.

Soon he realized that this 3500 was not going to suffice his and his family's needs and that he will have to move beyond his fears. So he started driving. Satish spoke in a voice that was matter of fact.

Moving ahead one step at time,  he moved to a tours company,  to a call center and then eventually to TAB cabs.. He mentioned how,  he once helped a young newly joined accountant, who used to be bullied by his lady manager, He “Guided” that young man till the truth saved him. I told the lady manager, he said, “ that Education was not everything.. being Kind was”

I was touched at just how much empathy this person was capable of, given his own dire situation, he was able to rise above that and stand up for another human being.And that the hardships and the tough city life had not dislodged his Kindness or hardened his heart. 

Satish’  other story, is where around 2000 cab drivers, in the city of Mumbai, have come together and have created a “System” on Whatsapp – where there are about 20 “groups” based on the different locality. And when  anyone gets a “request” for a cab, and in case he is not able to service it, he leaves a “voice Message” on that particular group and whoever is willing has to send an “OK”. The admin of the group then decides who has sent the first OK and the ride is assigned to him. The Admins decision is final.  

They have some rules as well: You can Only say yes, if you can reach in 15 min or less, so it'  Once you have said OK – You HAVE to service that request. If you don’t that you are barred from the what’s app  group for 8 days. “Bad service” creates a Bad name for everyone- he said”.  And then, If you have received a request from someone, you cannot “directly” contact this Customer in the future, it is NOT ethical, and after all money is not everything , says Satish, relationships are.

so important that you estimate the time properly. He told me of an incident, when one of the referred client turned out to be someone from his village, and needed a regular pickup and drop, so so 'naturally' he said  he would rather Satish was his driver instead of the other person who send him to Satish. Without a pause Satish said, "I told him clearly that, he would like to stay in touch with someone from his village, But not to contact him directly in the future for his Cab requirements, as that was not the 'right' thing to do. Again, we have a code of Integrity and strong relationships among the 2000 of us he said, matter of factly.

So, the curious me, asked, in my old way of thinking, how much “commission” does one get for referring a client., Satish told me after an awkward pause, that the commission is the faith that the others would also do the same for him in the future. No one makes money by referring, they just build a transparent good service based model that benefits everyone.

Collaboration and not Competition as  a business model that is working.  Holocracy in action - 

Self-managing , self-governed system. On the Pillars of Integrity and Trust in Basic Human goodness.. in the economic Capital of India.. Working seamlessly.

And a bunch of Happy people because they are also “Helping” others. .and in fact THAT is the basis of the model and it’s  success.

There is Hope. and certainly some lesson in lived integrity as a competitive advantage. 

A Ride to remember !! for Sure.

Rhea

Annie Miss

Some words ..at the right time go a long way..and so does Faith. !!

I was studying in class 1, in Little Angel’s High School, Sion - Bombay, (India)  My dad worked with Air India at that time. And my class 1 English teacher Annie Miss would tease me all the time about asking my dad to give her a free ticket. English was my favourite subject, by elimination.

This was a time I was to go on an “Aeroplane” trip for the first time. There was still more than a month for the trip. But I was so excited. I went announcing from the roof tops. In addition to jumping around all the time.  I was also very fond of books, stars and collecting Shiny stones, coins, cards, flowers..and memories.

So, as was inevitable, the, not-so-little, “Rumour” that I was going on a trip reached Annie Miss. And in her English class she asked me, in front of the whole class, what was I going to get for her from “Foreign” (Anywhere in an Aeroplane was foreign, by the way)

And I looked at her...I really liked her…she had hair like my doll…and I wanted to get the BEST for her. So I said, “I will the Stars for you Miss” – and not in a poetic way..(I didn't know what poetic way was ..then) . ... Because I really thought when I was in an aeroplane and going through the sky... I could just put my hand out and ‘pluck’ some stars out. Simple!!, That was my plan anyway..just an added note to self to get some for her as well...

She said thank you, smiled at me and then asked me to see her in the staff room at recess. (I have to tell you  ...Being called in the 'staff room' isn’t the most exciting thing, even when you like the teacher)

Anyway, Mustering all my courage, and my best ‘Brave face’ – I walked to her in the staff room. 

The walk to her chair which was toward the end of the long..noisy, humm.. teachers also make a lot of noise, room..dodging other teachers their chairs and inquisitive looks...

When I reached her, she smiled, bent down and removed a zippered transparent plastic bag out of her  handbag, and gently gave it to me.

I looked at it quizzically, not really knowing what to make of it... Annie Miss smiled, as said, “When you pluck the stars that you are going to get for me...Put them in this bag...and lock the zip. That way you can also see them…and they won’t fall off your hand” .. Ok??

I nodded, thought it was good idea, took the bag and left the room.

Just like that, with a smile and a plastic bag; my teacher…gave me a whole ‘other’ world.

Years later…when I think of this incident, I realise that I came out of that room to a new me…Someone who believed she could do ANYTHING!!! …get the stars even,  if she wanted…there was not an iota of doubt in my heart about whether it “possible” or not.  

It was of course possible. Annie miss said so.

She didn’t scorn at my childish idea... she didn’t laugh and just baby me… she didn’t give me a long lecture on how... Stars really are very far off….out of reach... and, of course you can’t open the windows in the airplane... Because the flight is pressurized…No Logic.

Nothing.

She just showed faith in what I said... and just went along… Anyway…

I have grown up to be a person, who can jump off a cliff and NEVER doubt that I will be held...or be taught how to fly...

I have grown to believe in Magic… in Stars...and that I can do anything my heart wants...

I grew up with Faith and belief...and ALL because my teacher believed in me...and my wishes..Well, maybe not all..some of it was also because of my grandma and Unicorn.

I know this will always be a part of me... the wonder of it all... While on one side, logic plays a part, there is a lot that science cannot explain…there is whole other world full of possibilities...and stars, which for some may seem out of reach… for some.

My Annie miss told me...That I can get them if I want.  And so I will.

Born..Still

A few years ago... I met a boy about 16..when I worked with NASEOH (National Society for Equal opportunities for the Handicap)  ..an NGO that did just that .. gave and asked..No, demanded Equal opportunities for their children..not sympathy. 

The director, Mrs. Sudha, a formidable lady ran the place like a well-oiled large corporate entity where timelines were adhered to, and, I can't see or walk..could not be used as an excuse for mediocre work. She also asked that the "Volunteers", like me... have a time table and stick to it. And once in a month we would have a review... and 3 times miss mark(late coming or no show) was the limit. After which, you were asked to (sometimes Not so politely) go. She was very clear that her children could not be used as an excuse for someone to feel good. They, kept to their time lines and who ever worked with them ..needed to be in integrity as well. 

I learnt a lot from hey way of Being..

I have digressed...

The Story I want to tell here is of this boy, Shrikant..a quiet shy lanky chap..who would keep to himself most times. He had lost his right leg in an accident and refused to wear prosthetics. Shri, was way too old for his 16 years. I used to teach "Basic Computers" to them so that they would then be able to get data entry job work from leading IT companies..

Shri would sometimes just linger on after the class.. and after a few weeks, I realized he wanted me to initiate conversation..which I did. He was very cynical about most things..and a rebel. He had a natural inclination to the subject, but it seemed like he didn't want to succeed or go ahead. He refused to move ahead..and knew that he was refusing. He was fighting on the inside ..demons that only he could see...and I could sense. He would, on some days,  look long at me..silently beckoning me to understand ..read his mind... get him out .. fight him, for him... I remember feeling extremely helpless..

So we would sit in silence..and then he would make some random comment and the conversation would build one tiny scrap at a time...till after a few months I began to see the story forming....and begin to understand  some of Shri's demons. These stories that he told me..kept moving between past, present and future, like wisps of black smoke, on an unpredictable windy day, and sometimes..as he spoke I got this feeing that he could see beyond this lifetime... he would have a faraway look..of anguish..in his eyes..

Shrikant was a child born out of a brutal rape. His mother, was abandoned by her family and society and left to fend for herself ... with Shrikant. She became a domestic help and eventually when Shri was 6, she died of untreated tuberculosis. Shrikant..had been drifting ..from friend to social homes.. till he landed at NASEOH when he ws 14.

I could understand his angst for the unjust world that behaved unjustly with his mom and him..how unwanted he felt.. judged, for no fault of his...

and that is when I wrote this Poem .. as I Imagined him..

Born..Still.

Splash, burst

White light

Blinding pain

Wet sticky dark,

Oh No!

Not again.

Fast forward

A Long, a very long journey

Source -Non-initiated

Destination-Not interested

Voices-Loud

Whispers.

A dark shroud.

What are they talking about?

Speak louder.

The whisper is deafening

It reaches me.

And my yet,

Not numbed consciousness

I remember now

Memoirs

Managing to pierce through

My self-inflicted anesthesia

Of time gone by

Days, Years,… lifetime?

What difference does it make?

It is still the same out there

People clinging to life

In a dead world

Relationships twisted with meaning

Waiting for death

Lie Shriveled an curled

Communities and Countries

All fighting for the same space

Actors, beggars, Authors, clowns

Crying behind the painted face

Hey! People

It's the same door in the end

The same old race

So predictable -so shallow

So false-So narrow

The minds of people.

Don’t want to do down that road again

I have yet to erase the past tracks of pain

Time grotesquely bloats

Space expands

Screaming, Shouting

A lot of unrest

Resistance Suffocation

Acute discomfort

Thrown
Pulled
Dragged

Against his will

Humiliated 

Bleeding 

hurt

In pain

He is born

Still.

...........


I was with NASEOH for 2 more years after that ..and Shri gradually started looking up..and not away. He started taking more interest in his work..and by the time I left, he was in the running for a Team leader position. Still  quite shy ..but now somehow ..straighter.

Sometimes...our own stories have the power to transform us. ..not to mention the one who listen to them..

I am struck by the power of bearing Witness...and the privilege of doing so.

Rhea.

Under One Sun

I went for my run today.. as usual in the afternoon.

I love the sun..even though I come back with uneven skin tones..sometimes I am grateful for the non-uniformity ...at least It makes me feel... part of ........ Uneven... Not smooth.. not equal...


I live in Mumbai.. a crowded Island, the irony of the oxymoron is not lost to me...and on a Sunday the roads are pretty crowded.. as if, like the rest of the week, most people make "enjoy my holiday" as a task on their task list ..and many I presume successfully tick that off their imaginary list as well.

So here I was feeling happy and running..Listening to Alanis and dodging the random pile of poop ..and rubble.. and once in a while pausing ..much the  annoyance of my "running" app .... to click abstract pictures of nature that catch my creative ..wondering ...fancy...and post it with some spontaneous, sometimes quirky insight..which of course happens often..and affects my average pace..

As I approached a particularly busy roundabout .. with 8 roads leading towards and away from it.. and people in their cars..bikes.buses.. waiting..honking...busy in their own worlds... I saw a sight, not unusual in a city like Mumbai..but yet.. somehow,  today it made me feel suddenly cold....even under the scorching sun...

In the middle of the crazy traffic and crowd.. was a woman..maybe about 20 yrs old.. a slum dweller... struggling to bathe herself and her small approximately 4 yr old daughter.. with the trickling water from a burst pipe... struggling for a 'normal' day...maybe,  even feeling 'lucky' that the pipe burst.. she now had water...  to keep cool.. to be clean.. struggling to keep her dignity... struggling to play her role ..

and struggling and hoping that the world did not see her .... on that front she probably did not need much effort..

The struggle..and different "definitions" of the word..by differet sets of people..All humans .. somehow felt ilke a punch in my gut...and it took my breath away..

As I ran past these two girls... trying very hard to not look at them...I found that my speed had somehow ... increased... and I wondered If I was running away... The thought of capturing this moment on my phone...crossed my mind ..but very briefly... I realised how I would feel if someone did that to me...I could not bring myself to objectify this intimate personal human act...The Respect ..The dignity..was tender.

I moved on... but the image still burns in my mind...and stings like the tears on my cheek.... that simple tings like this should be so difficult for some people....under one sun...

How did we end up in a world like this???
How are we sleep  walking like this....
What more will it take for us to wake up..
to see .. to feel.. to know...

Maybe we need to also take a bath..
In the open..
Become naked for once.
and let the sun scortch..
and create uneven tones....

Rhea

Contemplation

I was Sitting by the sea side at Kerala  - Kovalam beach...The sun was going over to the other side..and I guess so was I.

I watched at the horizon started turing a deep ink blue...and the dark...the waters...looking deep... and unfathomable.. Much like what was going on inside me.. so much was going on that it look dark and think almost...viscous.

I decided to stay with the discomfort.. The sea has often been my guide..when I could not really understand what was going on inside..it provided a great canvass.

In the reverie..I suddenly noticed something..

The rough waves that kept crashing on rocks that I was perched on ... were White.
Pure .. clear white..

Every time..The wave "Broke" ...it transformed from the dark viscous black ..to a frothing ..moving Clear.. Pure...White.

The Wave was in celebration....at breaking !!!

How amazing was that .... I thought.. and suddenly I didn't feel all this heavy and gloomy...

That was the lesson the sea taught me that day...
To break with panache..in all it glory...and to unleash the White.

I Woke up. got up. and walked away..

with the wave inside me.

This lesson and moment was so profound..That I wanted to capture and treasure it. As so
on as I came back Iw had thins inexplicable urge to paint it. (Although I have never painted)

and this was it.

October Wind

October Wind

It rose,
Suddenly.
Uninhibited
Unbridled

Unchecked
Unfamiliar

And spread
Like warm honey
Effortless.

Not holding back
Not asking for permission
Unapologetic
Celebrating the courage

Loud for words,
Quiet for the world.

My eyes wet, with wonder
Breath held pregnant
Mind deliciously suspended

I felt it.
I felt Shy.

Water

I was the wind

Once

Going where ever I felt like

Carrying grains of stories

From one place

To another.

Sometimes gentle

Sometimes a whirlwind

Flirting with tree tops

Changing my mind and direction

on a whim

Not caged

Of no fixed address

I was Free.

Then I grew up

And became fire

I was angry

And believed in the myth of Independence

And self righteously

Burned to purity

What I though was wrong

Creating separateness

It took courage…

I was Proud.

I stood still

The lava solidified

Became the Rock.

Made peace with the wrongs

Consolidated

Reached some ”conclusions”

Created an identity

Gulped the tears

Hard contours

Immovable - Dependable

I was Rigid.

..and then,

One day

On the periphery of my mind

I caught a glimpse

Of the dew drop

Glistening…Still.. fragile

Immaculate.

I saw

The whole world reflected in it.

The illusion of ‘Separateness"

Started to melt

I closed my eyes

And tears flowed

Breaking all barriers

Like a tsunami

Washing away

My carefully build identity

Leaving me happily with the debris

Of what I was ..

Words start dropping

Compassion arises.

Meaningless

Form less

Identity less

And yet,

Free to be Anything.

My journey

Is now

acceptance

Holding up a ship

Slipping through fingers

Flow.

Gentle

Peace

I am water.

-Rhea 

The Wave

As I sat on the rocks..
And watched the waves
I was struck by the raw power
The resilience

The Celebration

The Journey.

The joy with which the Wave ..Rushed

To the edge

With a Symphony

With a War Cry

To End

To Break

To Begin

To Merge

With the Ocean

As I watched..

The Wave…

I notice something else

Just at the point where the wave starts to turn

On it journey towards the end

At the curl

It  turns a transparent Blue white

At the Center..

At the Heart

The Eye.. of the wave.

The spot where,

The “light” reflects

The soft bright center

Momentarily

It becomes the light.

And then

It rolls

And loses itself

Not sad

Not apologetic.

Grand…Head held high.

The churn..is all White.

My eyes

Trail at the dark grey waters behind

Pregnant ..Deep

Full of stories

The many lives this wave lived.

Silent teacher.

This wave.

Touched Deeply by..

The Unapologetic purity of its Being

The Effortless dropping of its identity

The Humble willingness to merge.

Sigh.

A Lesson in graceful dying.

Rhea.