SPARRC & STRIDES

#112 Post

This post should be interesting for I have some outside events to report and analyse; most of the time I keep psychoanalyzing. 

SPARRC INSTITUTE

Dr. Kannan Pugazhendi is regarded as a maverick doctor who gives excellent results for knee pains. I consulted him a fortnight back and it was some experience: he just pressed my knee muscles and the calves and the spine and kept rattling names like “this muscle is weak; that needs strengthening” as his assistant kept taking notes. Dr. Kannan sees over 100 patients in three hours and no patient gets to open his mouth for a ONE MINUTE examination. The consultation fee of Rs. 700 is worth its weight; soon his team take over and advise for “Therapy and Rehab” sessions.

            This man sees patients at Alwarpet centre while I do the therapy sessions at Besant nagar centre. Rs. 25 k for 24 sessions is value for money; I would have been happy to pay twice that sum.

            Venkatesh is my physiotherapist and he is hardworking. He spends an hour massaging my abdomen, knee and calf muscles where I am reduced to agonizing oohs and aahs. At times it gets so painful as I ask him to stop; the muscles are treated as Thangam my cook kneads wheat for making chappatis. He explains this mode of treatment, “Sir, there are muscle trigger points which we are trying to relax. This way the pain comes down in a couple of sessions before we teach you strengthening exercises for each particular muscle.” At the end of each session there is ICING the whole structure and I definitely feel an improvement in my knees.

            Venkatesh went on leave and the therapy sessions are done by females. This is a real back-breaking work. They press the fingers hard on the skin, at times using their elbows to add pressure at those conjoint points. I feel nothing but gratitude. Truth be told, Suganya is better masseur than Venkatesh; she has an intuitive sense of the pain points and goes attacking them with pressure and elbows that reduce me to biting my tongue to suppress a yell.  There was another very young therapist, Protima, who said, “Sathya, your muscles are now free but your mind is not registering the healing.” She added, “You are used to a limp walk, try lifting your knees for each stride.” I followed her advice as she taught me how to walk. I had really forgotten the gait and good news is my knees are on the mend.

            I walk to the beach and regulars at Eliots say, “You sure have a funny gait with a half limp and half bends, It sure is sexy for a visual.” As for me, I recommend SPARRC to anyone with any kind of pain. They sure are effective as hell. Besides very decent people. 

STRIDES CONSULTING

            I had a three days Soft skills training at St. Joseph Engineering College at OMR and it was a fantastic experience to watch other trainers in action. Over three days, I attended the sessions of 13 trainers and I learnt an ocean of a lot. I am glad that this company is kind enough to put me on as a SHADOW where my job is only to watch others in action.

            One learning I had was “Soft skills is a career and of course you will be impacting lives but  that should not be your primary focus at this first year engineering students level, this is a career for you. Your objective should be to get a good feedback at the end of three days.”  I can aim for glory at the corporate level or when the audience is matured where there is scope for daring experimentation.

            I must thank Priscilla Joseph for her kindness in taking me under her wing. I am so fortunate to attend the sessions of high quality trainers that I feel a sense of liberation and feeling right. Now I am mentally prepared for this role.  Strides Consulting has enriched me both on content and delivery for an very important insight: there is no such thing as a perfect content or a preferred delivery style. You walk your way through and the course content will take you to the destination.  It is such a pleasure to see tongue-tied students open up and speak so fluently on a public platform on day-3. Another insight is: You need a team of trainers, the lonely bird does not get the contract. This is an interesting space; you only get paid for "working on for the day" and you are free to work for anyone on idle days for a daily labour kind of feel but what the hell, there is never a dull moment on the WORK days. 

            On Monday when I came back from the day’s labour of 9 to 6, my head swooned in dizziness. I am used to fever, cough, knee pains but this head dizzy spells got me in a panic. I kept vomiting – threw up the entire dinner in the closet – and felt the Yama was riding his bulls in the vicinity. The next morning when I told Venkatesh of these faints, he said, “Sir, it might be due to high BP or even vertigo.” He took my blood pressure and said that at 150 it is a bit too high, “Sir, avoid salt and oily foods.” That morning assurance felt divine and timely, He really is gifted with a good mouth and a great heart. Thank you, man.

Miscellany

I am fortunate having Pandian as the buyer of my apartment. He said, “Sir, I don’t intend moving in. You can reside here as long as you wish by paying market rate rentals.” I told him,” Thanks man, I don’t intend staying for more than 6 months here.”

            I will turn 50 by April end and I wish to celebrate it in a new home. I don’t want to purchase any apartment and I feel it is better to live on rentals. I am investing over a crore in mutual funds and equity market and hopefully these can fetch a 15% return on year to year basis. As for as my next residence, I am planning a Abu Dhabi visit for December (hoping that I will be jogging fit by then) for a job search. Sabeesh, my ex-colleague at Adline, said, “Sathya, I will arrange you the best bed space in town and near your favourite Sangeetha restaurant.” I must make 50 k  in Chennai but I am doubtful. If Dubai shows an empty harvest, I plan to settle down in Bangalore for 2019. I don’t think I will miss anything leaving Besant nagar except the friendly expertise of my cook, Thangam Mami. She truly was as reliable as a clock in the last 8 years and I plan to give her a good purse as a parting gift.

            And as for me, I am happy with life. I am slowly winning caring friends like Neetu, Lalit and Ashish Bansal. There are quite a few who care for me from my IMT circles. TH Iyer mama supports me unconditionally and he says, “Sathya, mad fellow, don’t leave Besant nagar at any cost. This is paradise on earth and I like to see you daily at the Beach.” Then there is Dhamma Mani Sir, Deepak called from Dubai to advise on investment basics and so many really. Yesterday was my dad’s 29^th death ceremony and both my mother and Viji were here. I was telling my sister, “Of the three, I am the smartest and most intelligent. Even if I die today, I have a body of work that will be read and respected by the next generation.”  She nodded heartily as I said, “If I ever have a publishing contract for an autobiography, what a tale that would make. Very few know how to heal childhood traumas and bipolar and I have done that. It’s a story that could be of interest to millions of readers. I will pitch for a contract in Europe or USA and trust me I will die both rich and famous.” I also replaced all the guitar strings and it sounds divine as I spent at least an hour on it. The fingers leap across the frets with a new found expertise. Sathya is great, Sathya is genius much like my heroes Sherlock Holmes and a very real Alexander the Great.   

Post Script: I must work on a blog on "Alexander" which I have been putting off for over a year now. Another must be on Sherlock Holmes, Granada Series which had Jeremy Brett in the lead. Actually I grew up on Arthur Conon Doyle's works, Star Trek and so many beautiful things in my school days. Doordarshan was splendid those days with Lucy Show, Yes Minister that I go nostalgic even today. Someday I must also attempt a blog on Vadivelu, a Tamil comedian I admire a lot. 

Finally life comes to this

Life the ever cruel bitch.

This festival season and incipient winter weather screws my moods every year. These are dark months I write off knowing well over the years that this is a season with not a ray of sunlight for me. Even my writing takes a backseat; I try to fill them with Vipassana retreats.

            I sold my apartment to a gentleman for small mercies. At least the process has been smooth so far. I will be happy to receive the final cheque and clear out. It’s a strange feeling to a definition of mixed emotions. On one hand I feel that I am a consummate failure as to sell dad’s property for survival, on the other hand I feel a sigh of relief. Leaving Besant nagar should bring store good tidings for me; this place vibrates negativity and sickness. M90 suffers from bad neighbours and a stray dog problem; besides it never got me one ounce of growth or happiness even as a fleeting sensation for the mind for decades.

            I was speaking to Dr. Rajaram today saying, “I don’t see myself ageing to 60s or 70s for a desolate existence. I don’t particularly love myself to wait for a God given death. I must fall in love in the next 5 years; it can be a woman or a dog or even some new hobby. Otherwise I don’t see myself lasting further. No life is a bigger burden than having nothing to look forward to.”  I narrated him my cousin’s life. That man is stinking rich, a widower, he can’t stand his son and daughter-in-law but loves the grandson. You need some blooming thing to hold on to.

            He said to an instant understanding, “Sathya, I know being you is so difficult. Hopefully you will find something to immerse yourself in.”

            My blog posts always refer to good friends but I realize that at the core, or when it comes to the test where I am having heart seizures or even death, no one will involve themselves from registering at the hospital or to rush to the Corporation for a death certificate. I must arrange everything before-hand and that makes my life so meaningless.

            The world outside is a callous one. It is friendly and it will offer you the right words but anything more, you are will be disillusioned ten times out of ten. Same thing with falling in love. You never fall for a woman because she is virtuous or good looking or great in bed; you only fall if you feel a love in the air. Love means caring and caring in our times translates to “waiting for you at the clinic when sick; hovering around a hospital ward when incapacitated and giving you a funeral when your time is up.” These few months I have grown cynical of life. Living in India is a huge karmic sentence where you are condemned to inferior people and living in an ant’s colony. This is one place where mediocrity will drown you in inches; a death by drowning in the Pacific or even the dirty polluted Adyar River is swifter and kinder.

            I start my Soft Skills training with a firm tomorrow. I pray these activities fill my mind with fresh winds. I guess I have one more month of stay in Besant nagar and I am just as eager to get out. I am planning for a swimming course as a distraction and a respite from the monotony of idle living.  In this murderous mood, if I had a gun I would have blasted myself.  But for now, I have this clarity that I need a purpose to living. It is something I cannot plan for, either it descends down on my plate or there is always that stupid gun.

Failed Relations & Forgiveness

Besant nagar chapter of my life comes to an end. The parent family took possession of the apartment in 1989 under trying circumstances with my father on his last legs. His cancer had ravaged the body beyond redemption and he wanted to die in Besant nagar than in Hyderabad and so it was.

            I loved Besant nagar from day one despite the jolt of losing a father not even reaching 60. Then two miserable years at IMT and these were desperate “moodswing” years. Thankfully I had a heart surgery for a divine intervention and a miracle and life stabilized a wee bit from daily THEOSOPHICAL SOCIETY walks and weekend Swami Paramarthananda’s lectures in Vidyamandir in Gandhinagar.

            There are four people in my life I call BIG BAD FOUR. My MOTHER was hopelessly sick and she is the prime cause of my suffering. If I am bachelor and in perennial hunt for jobs, then all credit goes to her. Strangely I have never felt an atom of angst and hatred. She is simply a naughty kid who refused to grow up despite my pleadings a million times. LESSON from her life is that you don’t marry and procreate if you are mentally so tangent.

            Then the Gujarat Sindhi for sheer OPPORTUNISM. Even my heart is extremely vast and willing to forgive will hesitate. I thank my MINDFULNESS lessons for sizing this female and finally slot her as a JACKAL in my memory. We were never ON as a couple; her values were from nether regions of hell. LESSON that her life teaches is it never pays to be so self-centred beyond a point. I am convinced she will suffer but I am far too gracious not to make a song and dance of it.

            Then my two SIBLINGS who failed big time. A little affection and this property could have been saved. They never invited me for festivals and so I have not celebrated one in three decades. My knees need treatment and it would not cost more than a 20 k which I cannot spare in today’s earnings. A little support here and there, maybe I could have come through the fires of life better. They never got it in their heads that I need some LOOKING AFTER, that the family owed me some care in a terminal illness and run my cremation show.

            I used to HATE my sisters intensely since my MINDFULNESS initiation which at least showed me how deep these lapses are. But as I let go of Besant nagar, I realize that I have become a saint. I really have hated them so much that there is no more energy in the tank. The heart and minds have hardened, there is no wish for a rewind button and our relations ever correcting itself. I certainly don’t owe anything to this family except impending cremation duties to my MOTHER when she croaks. Otherwise the well-being or deaths in my sisters’ families is of no concern to me just as much as my illness, hospitalization and death are news that will not reach their doorsteps.

            One of the best things I am learning these days is to burn the book of negative stored up scars. I have no one to love me nor do I love anyone; so hating someone corrodes my mind from that base zero. MINDFULNESS taught me this lesson: ACCEPT REALITY however dark it is and then work around it for some solace. There is a deep clarity nay a DISCERNMENT of these BIG BAD FOUR. I feel sad that as human beings they were ignorant of BASIC HUMAN VALUES and in their failure these LESSONS impinge on my mind deeply which is JUST CARING for another being. CARING such a beautiful yet most don't get it. At a cosmic level there is no male body or female body except that all BODIES are matter; similarly there is no MIND of a BIG BAD FOUR or saints. It is just MIND which is an arena for THOUGHTS that is a deliberate action and its resultant FEELINGS and EMOTIONS. My forgiveness is complete as I learn these lessons when others violate them with impunity and a devilish glee.

            Of course I am sad that Besant Nagar goes under the hammer. I can still salvage it but there is a weight of this sentimentality attached that this apartment gave me no happy memories. This is verily a paradise on earth but my life got stuck like those car wheels on desert sand and no traction on the ground. Besides money in SAVINGS grow faster than a PROPERTY VALUE and I should survive from here as I always have. Besant nagar brings a curtain to the BIG BAD FOUR as I find many things in my mind to love and live for: meditations, guitar, and quality friends.  Maybe it is time God wrote a better script for me, better still let me get my knees treated and go on a America trip that I have always lusted. Let me live and let me learn and let me forgive and let positive people come into my life is a prayer as this phase comes to a grinding halt in agonizing slowness. 

October Octopus

This is one of the blog posts I start on a blank mind. Usually I am driven to write for outlets of the mind to find a landing place but today I find the mind numb and dumb. But I plod to capture this state of mind too.

            Usually the winter months find me grumpy with life as they accentuate my loneliness. This is the best part of the year with the city taking a break from surfeit of the sun and these four months the scales are perfect; the migratory birds find the city a haven from the harsh winters in Europe.  The Nov-Dec music season washes the city with mellifluous music as the North East monsoons empties out a few storms and depression usually landing on Machilipatnam coast for some oddity.

            As I near my 50, I realize the whole weight of loneliness. Even if I had a loving brother or sister or even a nephew or a niece, this weight of my shoulders would have mitigated a lot. But then I am orphan and going into a fifties feels as though reaching a dead-end street. I am a recluse like no other; I don’t involve or even go near crowds as in family weddings or cremations. Those occasions and festivities psyche me out, I come home and mentally conked out for a couple of days before I get my breath back. It’s a poor life that has no one to care and embrace for. But god is great. If there is one person I am totally indebted to in the last three years it is TH Iyer mama. He is 86 and we either meet each day at the Beach or he calls me for the news of the day. He is extremely well placed in life; his children are all over the globe and on matters of money and people, he is extremely well-off in contrast to my penury. Today I asked him the reason for his affections and he says, “At times I am guided by Lord Krishna who goads me into keeping an eye on you.” He feels my plight (not many do, infact I can’t think of anyone who puts himself or herself under my skin) and affirms for a hearty encouragement, “Sathya, you are going through a passing phase. You have struggled for survival so hard that one day you will blaze the skies with your intellect. Fame and money are just round the corner. You have everything now, it’s just a matter of someone discovering your skills.”

            That someone discovering me or giving me a PLATFORM is what I have been hunting for decades. I am mighty glad of my stint on earth. Born of lousy parents whose only gift to me was scars and messed up psyche; I also realized even in my teens that I am not a regular 9 to 5 Joe. At times I get caught in the peak hour traffic and that affects me to the roots. I can’t for the life of me understand that is the daily diet of a common man regular on the streets. The traffic snarls are a mile away; trudging 3 kms can at times take an hour. Our generations don’t give credit to ourselves for we are saints on the wheels. Life is worse than a dog’s yet people keep at it for decades to feed a family and have a pretense of a lifestyle. Not for me. I am much too brainy for this rat existence; urban life is worse than a gutter rat race. When my father died, I resolved that I will die with head held high and no corporate slavery. I will discover my god given gifts and I have: over 30 short stories, over 1000 blog posts and these will certainly outlive me. Then there is my love for music which is more than my penchant for words. By God, I have lived and I am lived much on my own terms. I never kissed anyone’s ass and I have come this far for which I am mighty grateful and glad.

            I also found my mind FORGIVING my siblings. They did their best, they never wanted to associate even a shred with this family and who’s me to find fault. They see this family worse than a rotten apple and so give it a wide berth. I am now more philosophical. Let them go their own way, let me not ridicule and find fault. There is no homecoming here; our relations are buried in the sands of time. I have hardened my heart and attitude and there is no rewind button in my mind.

            I heard Radha sold her M91/4 for 1.25 crores and mine should fetch that price. In today’s mood I will take the money and shift out of Besant nagar for good. Three decades of living here and I have experienced it to the full. Time to put my tent in another locality and hopefully for a better menu; frankly I don’t see myself touching a 70 or 80.  At my today’s state of mind, I will do myself in before my 60^th birthday. A human needs some calories of affection and without it life is a marathon no one can run forever. God and providence and destiny be damned, I will write my own sentence and time my own death. I have earned that right; orphans always have that say.

            A soft skills company has signed me on and so finally I might see a 40 or 50 k earnings in a month. I am looking forward to this; maybe this will be one adhesive force for me to cling on to. I will strive to be a good trainer and I should find myself in this domain.

            It’s cold outside, raining throughout the days and the sun hiding beneath the clouds for a muggy light. That more or less describes my life. I am talented and almost genius on any calibration but life has not given me its dues but then it never owes anyone any favour. My life has not even reached a level shore and I guess it never will but mine is a tale of raw courage and honesty. I have soldiered for decades and warriors know when to write the climax for their stories. But if there is a tailwind, I will be grateful. And if I ever were to find love, I will be saved. But there is no faith or hope for Gods forsook me even at birth. I am much like Gandhari cursing Krishna, “ I spent my whole life worshiping you yet you did not spare even one of my hundred sons. For that cruelty, I curse you to infamy and a cruel death.” Sathya in 2018 is not much dissimilar to this steely lady. We march on; one more year without festivals and this is the 29^th year. Even bulls would have croaked down but not me. I am still sturdy.