November images

This one post-a-month ramble is good discipline for me. It records my days in the sun for later reading. Writing adds perspective when you are honest enough to observe and record. A human mind goes through so many fluctuations in a day; a mind has a capacity to hold contrary views and even contrary emotions at the same time. This is getting a bit abstract, let me focus. At Abu Dhabi, even six months back, I only thought about Mohan and Adline team for 90% of my waking hours. Now I don’t waste even a second, time in its run adds and subtracts many things. Your life flows in directions and paths you’d never imagine!

            2014 has been a good year. One word strikes the mind, workmanlike. I came back from UAE at the end of May knowing fully well that it would months before I would get another job offer. So I went on Vipassana retreats in Chennai, Hyderabad, Bangalore and Kolhapur. Those were real gains. The hours of meditations have definitely eroded my negative emotions of fear and depression substantially. I feel a lot tranquil and less rebellious about my lot.

            Then those transcriptions on http://spiritualsathya.blogspot.in/. I added over 30 posts this year. Believe it or not, in the last six months fourteen strangers across the world have written to me applauding my efforts.

            Earlier I would transcribe just three posts a year: Swamiji’s talks on New Year, Sivaratri and Gurupoornima. This year I worked on Sandhyavandanam and Bhagavad Gita summaries. I resolve to take one topic each year apart from these three special talks. 2015 should be Bhaja Govindam. This is a small thing but look at the sense of purpose it gives to the mind.

            2014 would have ended an average year but for http://damienbosses.blogspot.in/ getting active again. I have done very little creative writing this year. But each time I get those creative juices going I feel alive and kicking. 14 posts so far and I plan to add at least 30 more before the clock heralds the New Year.

It is not that everything I write I jump with joy. Out of hundred things I write, may be only 5 or 6 would fill me with pride. Last year I loved the eight part Nagarjuna Sagar series. It flowed without perspiration! This office humour series is short 500-600 words range; it needs vivid mental imagery and deftness in crafting. Besides I am not labouring for a smart line or a laugh in the end. I am more than happy if a tale is nicely told. And that’s never easy!  

            My father’s ceremony was on 7^th November and mother and sisters attended. This is only time in a year we gather. My relations with both my sisters are cordial; we don’t gush but neither do we turn our faces away. It is unlikely they would help me when hospitalized or when my money runs dry. Neither do they force their issues on me. But when we meet we smile and engage in small talk and that suits everybody.

            I met Ranga after three months and had a wonderful time at Maris. It is a bar and that’s where we quench our whiskies. I was cribbing about my loneliness to Ranga. The wise man reasoned: It does not matter whether you live in a family of hundred or you are alone. You can always be popular when you are willing to talk on other’s terms of reference. Like you may want to talk about Led Zeppelin, while they insist on talking about Billy Joel!  Sathya, you talk on your frame of reference and that’s not a bad start. Besides not all people who live in close-bound families relate with one another, this gave me some solace and food for thought.

            I asked Ranga another question: you are such a wise person and why do you interact with chaffs like me?  I was having a dosa at the restaurant and Ranga explained: look, you have got to pay for this dosa now or later but there is no avoidance. Similarly when any situation or people are thrust before me, I consider them as God’s will. I don’t avoid them; if I do then I have to pay the bill at a later time. I try to do my best in all honesty. I really fortunate to tap into this level of wisdom; Ranga is a university or those large banyan trees that never run of knowledge and shade.

            Ranga recommended me “Outliers, Malcolm Gladwell”. This is my first read of 2014 and the book helped me revisit some of my past notions. Simply put, a person is a factor of so many things like family and also opportunities that nature sets along in the way. It is a sequence of dots and there is wonderful rationale to it on hindsight. I enjoyed the book.

            Six months of unemployment is butterflies in the stomach. The mind feels washed out. I wrote to Zaidi my IMT batchmate for assistance. He spoke to me from Tokyo and followed by a mail: Sathya, we are this job hunt together. I will access all my contacts and even people I don’t know on the cause. Then he writes: Don’t you realize that the world is existent only for YOU and everybody else are stage-managed and a prop. What a liberating thought.

            Right now, my attention is on those http://damienbosses.blogspot.in/ posts. I have extensive notes of the times when Mohan grinded us to the ground as a betel crusher. I still have more than 30 anecdotes to capture. Writing is so whimsical a whore that I have often felt my mind go blank. Creative writing needs a state of mind; fresh, daring to experiment and in a mood to have fun with words.

            I end this month’s rambling with my Sunday Vipassana sittings at T-nagar. Arvind Dikshitdar is truly a dhamma brother. He said,” Sathya, come regularly and be a partner. Please come early and help me set the sound system.” I have known him since my Vipassana initiation in 2008. I get affection each time I see him.

The penny drops

Some title to start a line of thought!  A belated realization after a prolonged confusion is what the phrase means. There is a reason why I hunted for it.

            I am the most diffident creature among the bipeds. Being in and out of jobs and staying alone and managing a house on your own steam for decades is not likely to make anyone spray and of good cheer. Such an abandoned wastrel of an existence feels a noose round the neck.

            The weather in Madras in the last three weeks added to the mind’s gloom as hell. This is the start of the North-East and the season of storms and cyclones. The skies get almost pitch dark throughout the day mandating electric lights to be switched on. Besides in this blessed city it rains right through without taking a break to a wretched monotony. So sitting at home, a bit of cold around the knees and arthritis, the wet clothes that don’t dry, the mind is prey to melancholy.

            The grey thoughts in the mind burgeoned like poppies before I realized; I have been on my own since I stepped into adulthood and I have not come worse off. There is only person who saw me through all the plights – my story reads such a tragedy that even Greek epics like Iliad comes a tame whimper -  and yet I stand  sturdy and on my feet. I should give that person a lot of respect and love. In fact worship that person and sing his tales. That’s when the penny dropped. I must treat myself a lot more regally than the habitual self-pity and put me downs. The spin-off is this; if you have to go through a painful stretch of experience then why add sadness to it and make the monkey heavier on the shoulder?

            Such ennobling thoughts don’t jump on you at random. This might be the result of my monthly Vipassanas for at least 40 days of 4:30 to 9:00 pm schedule sitting cross-legged and watching my breath. Then I fill up the day in Besant nagar with these Bhagavad Gita transcriptions. The Gita starts off with this thought: The intensity of sorrow is directly proportional to the intensity of dependence. Grieving over expectant pleasure in the future not coming to fruition in the present is just as bad as one-sided infatuation. Then I got into this mode of thinking – I am as strong as a bull chewing the cud as the storms are emptied out. It is a picture of stoicism and not even bothering to take cover. Have I not outlived my storms too?  I respect my resilience. And if this is the lesson I have learnt in this five months of unemployment it is well worth such idleness.

            2014 has been an excellent year; the first half in Abu Dhabi and the second half in Chennai. Did the rich supply of money make me happy? I don’t think so. The mind felt a lot insecure having to cope with a mad buffalo like Mohan Natesan at work. And even on holidays and after office hours my mind would be plunged in sorrow. .

            I remember telling the waiters and other friends at Al Naeem quarters when they enquired about my family. I learnt to say this with a straight face,” I have a wife and two daughters back at home.” I had to hide my embarrassment and pinning insecurity on my sleeves in a foreign country is never a wise thing at all. Now four Vipassana retreats and 38 posts of transcriptions of Swamiji’s talks later, my mind is growing in mental strength. My mouth is a lot quiet and the heart does not feel a raging fire. I feel a lot tranquillity and stillness.

            There are three people I am obligated to in these times when the clock seems as stretched for a wanderer lost in the desert. My sister calls every day; Manisha for her mails and Vivek who calls frequently to enquire,” What’s up, Sathya?” This inclement weather and dark skies forbid any walking jaunts to the Eliots or the Theosophical Society. I must record Manisha’s mother’s optimism. Whenever I feel my sorrow flows like a raging river I speak to her for solace and she calms down the fears every time. It is a genius mind who can offer a balm to me. This time she said,” Sathya, you are such a fine writer. Yesterday I was watching Sri Sri on television and I couldn’t help recollect your story on spiritual gurus and their over promotion and marketing. I read your book from cover to cover and you are very talented. Just have patience and the Lord will show some way. It won’t remain the same. I am sure you’ll go back to UAE to a better job and better work environment.”

            I might have spoken less than half a dozen times to her and now I know where to go when the nerves are bubbling up as in a pressure cooker. Of course I have to thank my cook, the ever wise and reliable Thangam too. She has been this pillar of normality for me as she presents herself at 9:00 am on the dot at the kitchen to a friendly word and cheer. 

            I feel a lot better as November gets under-way. In fact I have not hunting for a job with any fervour. Moreover editing and content jobs they have their own recruitment process time. It also needs someone batting for me unlike other jobs. So I buzz old clients and friends for reference and try to get a toe in somewhere. I am firm too on this score: I hate to work for any ass and moron. More than money I need respect at work and humourous colleagues. My skills are first rate, in the last 7 years every client or manager I encountered had nothing but lavish praise on the merit of my work.  Most realize I am in a different orbit altogether. I have never doubted my abilities even for a microsecond; I know I just need a good work environment and my train will run smooth on the rails.  

            Dr. Rajaram is excited with a word I tossed around last month. So each time we meet he’ll say,” Badonkadonk”. I chanced this word on an American channel and since then we bandy it across. By the way this is an American slang for a woman with a voluptuous back and so you can imagine the amount of fun we squeeze. Badonkadonk sounds great as you roll it off your tongue.

            Come 7^th November it will be the 25^th shardham of my father. I have lived for a quarter of century without people and without festivals and without anyone fussing over me. My mind is still young and willing to learn despite the regular storms, hurricanes, depressions, cyclones, tornadoes and more.