No Compartments

I don't like travelling by trains.
This is a moment to collapse the illusion of Cause  and effect, because my statement has nothing to do with the recent rail saga, sad as it is. It's  just the sheer..every man or woman for himself (or herself) syndrome.

This view of mine was challenegd yesterday, as I tarvelled to cross maidan for the Indo-Greman festival..I think it was the heat..I didn't want to be in traffic for any longer that I had to and hence the train option (yes ,. I agree it is very convinient)

As I sat, nonchalant, with my ear plugs plugged and listening to "O re duniya"..from gulal..Ironic as it was..(well its a song which says what use is this self absorbed world?)
The other reason why I sometimes venture into a train is the sheer joy of browsing through the cheap wares that the women/boys sell..even if I never use those things, that and the fact that it also gives me something to do.

This day, as I sat ..not particulary noticing anything..In, rushed a mother of two..very young childern..who just coudln't keep quiet. That and about 4 bags, each about half the size fo the youngest child.

As she sat, rummmanging throiugh the bags to get something for the kids to eat...In breezed one of my favourite people in the train..a lady selling 'gajaras' - jasmine flowers stringed together meant to adorn your hair (or whatever is left of it)

Our tired; yet enthusiastic mom..somehow manages to surface from amidst the bags and the children..to look up, as the sweet frangrance of the jasmine flowers wafts into  our compartment..and like the sole bright ray of sun peeping from behind a trall concrete building..she beams...( I swear she looked like she would have jumped for joy, had she not had the  bags, the kids and the the learnt ability to act grown up)

The lady selling the gajaras ..catches the beam..these women can read signals , I can tell you that...our sales people should learn a thing or two about prospecting from them;  but that is another subject.

I watch with peaking interest as the transaction happens , complete with bargaining ..and an extra flower thrown in..Our mom..buys 4 gajras (yes..it was a deal after all)..and after the woman selling getsoff ....reality dawns..and the fisrt sign of realization starts showing on our moms face..What is she going to DO with the gajras..because she does not have the ONE thing that is required to wear it...yes a  Bob-pin ( I know we have almost forgotten words like these - but the trains  are a good reminder).

Disappointed and dejected..the sun again gone behind the concrete...   just as she was about to brutally shove the deliacte flowers wrapped in green leaf...something amazing happened !!!
another lady , possibly a regular working woman..from diagonally opposite side , happend to see  all this and did something that took me and our mom by surprise ...

She got up and walked to our side and just took out  a 'bob-pin' which she was wearing..and handed over to our mom with a smile... gave it without too much explanation or talk and walked back..quitely to her seat...barely acknowledging the confused..grateful thankyou smile...of the estatic recipient.

Our mom, took the pin put the gajaras , all four, in her hair and the sun and the smile - was back on....
and so was the overall spirit in the compartment on this hot sultry day..I looked up at the faces of other women ..most of them had a faint...almost knowing smile... each possibly  rembering a random act of kindness..or thinking of oppurtunities of doing one....

I went back to the fragility of my judgements..and deep sense of satisfcation..that despite evreything that the newspapers say is happening wrong with the world...Humaninty exixts..in these small pockets...of a  train without compartments.

The heat and train somehow bother me less.

All is well with the world.

Before Memory Fades

Before the memory fades
Let me remember

The moments where
I was the prayer
I was the answer

My tree swing
My bed on the loft.
….Of my grandma's house

My solitary moments
When I found faith

My feeling of abundance
When I found 4 popsicles
Where I expected one

My joy and glee
When my red gumboots filled with rain water
And made a funny noise when I walked

My times of confusion
When my struggle for clarity
Made a thinker out of me

My goose bumps on the cold mornings
When I was a humble witness to
the new proud bud blooming

My unforgiving moments
When hurt hurt more
and Ask for forgiveness

My primitive judgements
and humbly Forgive

My feeling of security
When my mom went about her chores
Humming and talking

My wonder , echo and Silence
When I helped my gran clean the church
For the next days Sunday Mass.

My deep gratitude
For all the people who loved me as I was.
For all these little moments of magic
For all the struggles and strife's
For all the tears and tests
For all the celebrations
For Me.

Let me remember
Before my memory fades…..

The Lone Sweeper

 

It’s 3 am
The street empty
Shutters down
The Market
Sleeps.
It’s a small town.

The roads they
Turn in their beds
Sometimes groan..
Shuu…it’s a dream

And there I see the lone
Guy with his long broom
Quietly silently
Cleaning the Market
Of it’s day long
Debris

Of Pretenses fallen.
Of Joys wrapped;
in ice cream wrappers.
Of worries people brought here
And left – Refreshed.
To start living again – Hopefully.

And he whistled softly as he swept
No one in the daylight will stop to wonder
Where , all the rubbish went
No one will know his name
No one will recognize him in daylight.


And he is happy with that
Just doing what he is meant to do
Oblivious to – The philosophies of life
And just content living it.

The rhythmic sound of his broom stops just a bit
And I am pulled out of my revere
I look up …
Oh!! A piece of chocolate wrapper stuck under the wheel .

The humming and sweeping begin once again
My heart jumps up and applauds loudly …
Giving him a standing ovation.
And I go back – to another clean day.

Peaceful Warrior

 

The story of a Man, who was made a Villain by a Single Story.

Pre Amble:
The danger of a single story exists. It is dangerous because it has power. Power to influence – Perceptions – Beliefs – Behavior and even Faith. Influence to cast the wronged person as the wrong person.

Background:
Ravan, the Man, was a devout disciple of Lord Shiva, an avid Learner, a Musician and an accomplished warrior. When he played the veena..the birds joined in chorus

Ravana, the King, was an admired king. Who understood. Listened and cared for his people and respected their dignity. The well being of his subjects was the subject of most of his silent contemplations, which he got into many times

There was abundance and joy all around and the people rejoiced in the peace and safety that was their king’s top priority.

The Episode:

The huge garden, behind the king Palace… was lush and peaceful. Froth with the gentle evening breeze. The deep green grass…taking on a warm tone..glistened in the rays of the setting sun… The huge trees surrounding the garden..bore witness to the solitude..swayed gently..rocking the many young birds nesting in their arms…allowing the stray rays of the sun to paly peek-a-boo with them.

The air, filled with the sweet fragrance of multitude flowers and humming of grasshoppers… and the cacophony of birds returning happily to their homes. Punctuated by an occasional chime of the far away temple bells…and the steady deep rhythm of Ravan chanting…”Om Namah Shiva”… “Om Namaha Shiva”

Ravan, Sitting in deep meditation, under his favorite Banyan tree, oblivious to the yellow butterfly flitting gently on his shoulder.

Suddenly, the tranquility is pierced..mercilessly …by the soul shattering ..shrill scream of Suparnakha, Ravana’s baby sister…

Brutally pulled out of his reverie, Ravana is stunned …as he watches his sister soaked in her blood..covering her face and screaming his name…”dada” (Big Brother)…running towards him…

After what seems like and eternity..she comes and collapses in her brother’s arms..and wails. The wails that would wake the dead. Her Hot tears mixed with her cold blood are all over Ravana, and the once pristine white dhoti , that Ravan Always wore..is now screaming red.

Amidst the sobs..Ravans manages to pull away the hands that are still covering his sisters face…a face that he knows so well…he is the reason for so many of it’s laughter lines…reluctantly as Suparnakha..lets her face be seen… Ravana inspite of himself recoils at the sight… His sisters nose, ears and breasts have been chopped off..and the anger now mixed with disbelief and pain..washes over him ..and he wails and takes his sister in his large arms…and cries with her., gently rocking her back and forth….the shame..the humiliation..the pain…is all the world has come to , at that moment…

Getting his bearing …when Ravana manages to ask her the Silent question..”Who did this and Why?”… Suparnakha…now also fearful..of the consequence…manages to tell him, it was Laxmana who did it, on the orders, of Rama, to whom..Suparnakha has confessed her foolish love.

Hurt..and disbelief...standing still!!

Ravana..shaking with rage ..hurt and justified revenge…Gets up with a roar…after asking the palace maid to take Suparnakha away ..he is finally able to find his voice…

The dilemma that faces him is huge.. Should he just go ahead and kill Laxmana and Sita with the same, or maybe more brutality…so that Ram knows the pain??..should he wage a war on Ayodhya??..and them know that he is not a people who will take injustices lying down..What should he do??? …This is not just a humiliation of his sister ..but also an insult to his people…what is he do as a Brother..what is he to do as a king???..yes an eye for an eye…ear for an ear.. that is justice!!!

But….

What will it result into??.... More Blood…more innocent people dying..more families ..brothers..sister ..crying for their loved one..just like he was crying for his sister…No This will lead to an avalanche of revenges..and the streets and history of Lanka..and Ayodhya will be smeared by blood forever…… More Blood cannot be the answer….
There are already many people fighting and dying in battles that are not theirs ..all over the world…..Revenge cannot bring peace….for anyone… ever.

War does not discriminate. Nobody wins in a war.

So..then should he just sit here and do nothing??What kind of a brother will he be.. What kind of a king??? No he can’t do Nothing….
He can almost hear the echoes of his people asking for Justice…Justice…Justice….

The Mighty Ravana…is Silent…in his quiet moment of seeking divine wisdom.. listening to his inner voice…..

After what seems like an Eternity....

He looks up. His mind is made up..his heart quietened..his eye steady once again….

He realizes, Ram has to repent his wrongdoing..so that forgiveness can happen…so that healing can happen..so that Justice is served…so that peace prevails..
The answer…Sita.

(Ravan..came up with this though..knowing fully well that he himself cannot ever touch sita, and for all the duration that she was in his captivity..she was given a royal treatment..and Ravan made sure that Sita purity was not even touched by his shadow.
He treated her as any lady should be treated..with respect.)

What Ladakh can Teach the World

LADAKH means 'Land Of High Passes '. however it’s a metaphor for much more.

It's an innocent world, where a four-year-old trusts a stranger enough to hitch a ride.

Unlike denizens of other impoverished regions, Ladakhis reverse migrate to their land after having gained better education. One such fine example is Dorjee, a graphic designer from NID , who after having been out of Ladakh for 20 yrs studying and working, is back . Doing what he does best ..designing ‘elemental’ spaces.

They value their cow and goat more than a regular job, and thus live on in remote villages. Before starting to plough the land..the entire family sits around the field and praysfor 3 days for the inhabitants of the soil that they are about to disturb and make provisions for their food.

Ladakh being a land of such scarce resource ..has learnt to optimize their meager resources to the fullest.. They had (untill very recently ..zero wastage..everything was recycled including human waste). Even now Leh, one of the more populated places in Ladakh , what with one tourist for every 1.5 ladaki, it is one place where you don't see plastic.. You see instead good old brown paper bags ..and some other semi cloth bags.

Water, a very scare commodity, (since it doesn't rain at all) is very efficiently used..Water channels are created and water is ‘directed’ to a patch of vegetable till required..and then the channel is closed with mud and rags. Water used for cleaning dishes is fed to the animals. Everyone in the family knows how to do this.

Families are close knit, (what with having to spend 8 months of winter together) and there is a lot of “Touch” and everyone is very comfortable displaying it.Stories play a very important role in their lives..that is what they do most of the winter...

Display of Anger, temper or ‘pride’ is a vice and is looked down upon with the greatest contempt.

“Chi Choen” - means “What’s the Point” - is a favorite phrase of Ladakis.. when practiced it is a great way to maintain internal equilibrium..and laugh at things which may otherwise trigger you.

You see people waking about doing their chores with the prayer wheel silently turing in their hands... Peace and Prayer is a way of life...and not something which is ‘scheduled’.

Ladakhis greet strangers and friends alike with a cheerful Julley and A hot cup of tea or teas

No Ladakhi is a stranger. We just haven't had the time to meet them all.

Living with Peaceful Compassion and a connectedness with Nature, and respect for environment and all beings is what Ladakh and Ladhki have to teach and offer the world.

It's what we need the most

..otherwise.....Chi Choen?

What partnership and collaboration look like (in Maltby)

What partnership and collaboration look like (in Maltby)

April Fool

This morning as I sit sipping tea ..reading the newspaper…With the morning sun streaming from behind And watch the playful shadow of my Plants With my maids humdrum in the background 

Some snippets of conversation while she tells me about her Life as usual…

Three daughters and mother.. Husband who is conspicuous by his absence. .And oh! And By the way

Three school going sons of her sister who passed away 2 yrs. ago…again no husband.

Her oldest daughter, class 3 student is an amazing dancer..(can she join the shama dava class didi?) . Second one is down with Jaundice … Some property fight back in the village…And an occasional fight in her basti ...the regular drunk- husband- beating-wife drama, Which of course, she gets in the middle of... choosing not to be one of the crowd that is standing and watching ; and … gets a black eye. Punched rib.. as a take away.

I listen...because that is all I can do really... as Neelam, my Maid...rants off all this...punctuated by

Giggles. Or .. A matter of fact “what else could I do? … I couldn’t not help her  - na"

As I think about theses 10 minutes conversation with her ..I end up most days saying a quick prayer for her…and for me..I count my blessings..

This morning. She is early….

She has to take her jaundiced daughter to particular place for some medicine before the sun is up.

And suddenly my quiet morning is abruptly broken by her …”didi..didi.. jaldi Aao” - Come quick

I rush to the kitchen.. to see..

And find Neelam burst into uncontrollable laughter… as she is squealing ...”April Fool” “April Fool”

And I laugh as well..

She then goes on to tell me her master plan where she and her friend, Manisha have hatched about “Who should we fool this year..”

You see.. she does this every year - and with no less fervour than preparing for Diwali…

And amidst her past stories of April fool.. and also some plans that didn’t quite go down well with the ..victims… 

Neelam suddenly asks me

So..who will YOU fool this year didi ?..

A Very matter of fact question.. very serious .. like everyone does this… and ..I am sure you have thought about this - kind of a tone…

I am silent…

And not because I am quiet.

I am asking myself the same question

Who will I fool this year?? ..Who am I fooling every year.. Who are we fooling every day ???

and not just on April 1st….

When was the last time you took such efforts to plan ..an April fools day

What happened to all those fun times…

I know …some will say ..”Well we grew up. We are not children any more” -- too bad actually..

But then so has Neelam… How come she can still do it?? I go back to ..Count my blessings…

And I am wondering… for all the comforts that we have… all the great thoughts we read.. all the intelligent discussion about the world and its state…

Neelam- without all this seems to have all the fun.. Doesn’t quite add up, does it?

Wonder what could a “World conference” of strategies and Innovative methods ..of being silly an bring more joy to people around.. would look like??

Are we really privileged?? Or are we missing something??

Something that is called …. being in the moment...sharing...conversations.. being silly.. really planning for joy.. maybe

Or Just smiling and being the Fool…

Cracked Pot

“Oh You are a crack pot” ..

Eyes rolled ..hand on hip

And with a huff and a puff

She walks away.

My aunt.. that is.

The Crack pot – is me

I have heard variation of this as I grew up

You must be Mad

Out of your mind

Crazy

What’s wrong with you

And time to time

I sat down

And

Asked these things to myself

And Thought. Deeply!!

And then just got up dusted my pants..

Generally white...

“Oh!!! What’s wrong with you...” I hear one of these voices

White?? Really?? On a wet rainy day??

And my search ..For what’s wrong with me..

Always got me to a confused ..Puzzling. Bewildered

Nothing.

So..then

I asked; when all, do I get to hear this?

When I refused to copy in class 6

When I questioned the pastor..and said I would not say what I didn’t believe in

When I crossed over form one balcony to the other on 3^rd floor..

Because a neighbours’ small kid had somehow locked himself in.

Or

When I advised my best friend in school

To confide in her mother about her boyfriend

When I fought with the ‘management’ of the place I worked in

To stand by one Student ...who was asked to leave because he refused to go by unfair means

When I walked out on a Partnership because I refused to bribe.

Yes..

All those times when I followed my heart

When I was all alone because of what I stood for

When I defined growth as being a happy person and not necessarily more money in the bank.. or more employees

If following my inner voice is being crazy...mad...out of my mind...crack pot

Then I guess

I am guilty as charged

And to think of it..

A cracked pot,

Let’s the light in.

Nourishes the bottom..the roots

Things not visible on the top

Yes.

I am a cracked pot.

And proud to be one.

Rhea D’Souza

Completion - My Lessons from the Rubik Cube

The Center – That’s where you start
The core..
That's what decides
The colour of that surface.

Then you align the CROSS - around the center
Then …
You get the corner pieces in place
How??
Simple.
Just by turning and turning ....
Till you come round right

And..
It's not just about the colour on One side
It has to align with the ‘Neighboring’ pieces..
Otherwise it’s not “Right” …
Even when you do get the colour right
'Coz sooner or later you will be up against that fact.
....when the other pieces stop aligning

With one side “done”
You turn the whole thing upside down..
And what was initially the top..
now becomes the base.

And you start working on the ‘middle’
And .... again
A Set of algorithms….turns ..rules, if you will
And more turning and turning ..
till you come round right..

And just when you think you are getting it..
with all, but one side aligned
You have to make moves that will throw ..'Everything’..
out of place
Un-coordinated..
All mixed up..

And it will freak you out..
And all your instincts will tell you NOT to do it..
I mean ....come-on..5 sides out of 6 are good ..
Right ?
Why disturb all of them to get the one side right..

Leave it ..leave it..Leave IT!!!
Bask in the glory of all your effort thus far….
Life is not ALL about Completion.
Right?
.
.
.
But..
You will realize ..like I did
There is NO other way of completing it.

No matter what story you tell yourself..
You will yearn for completion…
Almost completed is not the same as Completed.
And of course you can't take an almost completed cube
and jump around Smiling..

With a Sigh..!!!
You start moving…
You will mess it up…
And create what looks like chaos

Destruction
Of a carefully put together puzzle ..
Piece by piece
Literally.
So much thought has gone into it..
And time…and focus…and energy
Phew!!

Trepidation
Fear
Uncertainty
Reluctance to let go
Inner dilemma of choosing..
between comfort and completion

But..
You will also realize .. as I did
That if you keep at it..
Slowly …ever so slowly
It will start falling into place .
Without you knowing how..
Almost magically !!!

Just as long
As you follow the algorithm..
And keep turning and turning ..
till you come round right..

And come round right you will.
to
Completion.

No ..I wasn’t talking about life.
These are my lessons
From the
Rubik Cube

Pretty Close don't you think?

PS: You know I solved the cube, right?? ..The next challenge ... do it quicker next time !!

Rhea

Brand 'YOU'

Brand "YOU"

“A Brand is not what you tell customers what it is..It’s what Customers tell each other.” - Procter and Gamble

In the consumerist society that we live in..the word “Brand” has become synonymous with a lot of this…

Worth..Special..Expensive..Taste..Fulfillment..Value..Self-Expression !!

There are a lot of people out there who have made a thriving career out of linking these ..’words’ back to whatever the product..

Because as we all know..”People make buying decision emotionally and justify them rationally”

I want to stop here for a minute and look at Brand YOU .

What does Brand YOU say…?

How is Brand YOU ‘Talked’ about by others to each other?

What Value does this brand bring to whatever ..Association you have.

and.....

WHO is doing the Brand building??

Have you given this a though at all??

Well if you haven’t then it may well be time to stop and look at this most valuable Brand..a Brand that you are ALWAYS endorsing…(and you may not be getting paid for it either :) ]

Here is a short exercise:

A BRAND has to have the following 3 Components

It has to be : A.B.C

Authentic

Believable

Communicative

1.> If you were a brand ..what would be your commercials punch line..Your USP, if you like (Hint: Make it in 7 words or less)

2> And WHY should somebody pay ..anything ..for

3> HOW would you like to leverage this Brand,,in ways that you are NOT currently doing??