Bathroom - the Temple of Human Awakening

Not everything in Bathroom is sh!tty..

I am serious. Seriously.  

It is bathroom where it all starts. Please stop laughing. Am not kidding. 

Ok, what's the similarity between mom's lap and bathroom- you find solace at both the places/ you feel the most comfortable to cry. (And you are not embarrassed to have/ have had sh!t there).

Isn't it the bathroom that has mostly been responsible for all the life changing decisions?  It's here where you always get your doze of determination.

Zero interference. No compulsion. Purely voluntary and absolutely personal!
A place of complete withdrawal from the world and a complete surrender to self.
Is there any other place in the world that can be so customized (imagine not even your girl friend/boss will bug you here if you stay here longer. And look at the availability- home/office/trains and available internationally).

Is there any excuse in the world more convincing for not answering your call than to say that "Sorry, I was in the Bathroom". (Tip- You can even use this excuse every day without sounding absurd. Even Murphy's Law doesn't apply here).

Bathroom - where you get to look into your own eyes and "say" things with such sureness that you have never been before.

I think I owe it to the Bathroom for all the times I realized that it was a high time to make or break  things up in life (Mostly breaking though).

While your hands play with water in the basin, and you gaze at the mirror, You begin the intellectual tête-à-tête with the You inside. And Voila! you hit the bulls eye.  You get replies. You find long lost affirmations and the bridges between your doubts and possibilities.  

An important business meeting or a difficult exam- bathroom is the place for the pre-run.

Moving forward. Public toilets- epitome of human creativity and prose. Remember the school toilets and not to miss the ones at the railway stations and the super graffiti.

When you are caught between the chicken-or-the egg theory, suddenly someone pulls you and hands over a chicken wing and that’s when your Thought flight takes off. (Einstein had an omelet though).

Only if your questions are simple, your answers will surprise you.

P.S. So now you know why Prime Minister Modi wants "Toilets for all". 

Are you too suffering from Trustlessness

Each time I crib like housewives, everyone around me acts like my husband telling me that the problem lies within me.

I have always been accused for not ‘trusting’. People. Situations. Life. Love…etc. Sub-consciously, I think I started self-accusing myself too.

Well, I am not the only person on the planet who has learnt the lesson (the harder or the hardest way) of not so easily trusting others. But probably I took this too seriously and made everything around me revolve around it and be based at it. If Trustlessness is that strong, imagine how Trust would be.

I thought of giving myself an opportunity of ‘being heard’. I found that my ‘Trustlessness’ had been misunderstood. My Trustlessness had been charged with a crime of discharging its duties. Because it always sounded rude, it was framed.

Trustlessness can never exist without Trust. Your Trustlessness in one is a result of your Trust in another. Each time I did NOT trust anyone, I had been trusting myself. Each time I rejected an outsider, I had been accepting a wider possibility of Life that I was choosing for myself. Each time I withdrew myself from others, I had been walking a further inch towards myself. Each time I disallowed others, I was allowing myself to fit in a superior role in my own Life.

Every Trustlessness reflected back a larger amount of Trust in myself and prepared me to direct, choreograph, write and play a larger role of myself composed filmy Life. 

P.S.  But actually all the problems lie with Housewives.


P.P.S. Moms are exempt from such interpretations.

Acting Opposite to Your Emotion

I live to eat. So when I don’t feel like eating, I know I am in deep sh!t. I have started to mold back in my earlier shape after Mom has left- irritated, grumpy, impatient, annoyed and resource-less. See…at least I am honest in describing myself.

"I have not been meeting friends or going out. I just stay at home. All alone. Best part is, I am not scratching others with my eccentricity."

This is exactly where I am wrong.

I read somewhere that we act consistent with how we feel. We behave according to our mood and try to justify our attempt. For example, if I am fussy about something, I stay at home and remain fussy. Unfortunately which, consequently increases our depression. So the key is to act opposite to your emotion. So if the natural reaction is to concentrate on your failures and worthlessness, the opposite action has to be to treat yourself with love and kindness.

I was happy in the morning because I could fit in the pink skirt I bought from the sale and then cranky because my landlord threatened to increase the rent and hence the day went for a toss until I reminded myself of reversing my mood. So I went out, bought flowers from the old man on the street from whom none buys, complimented a stranger in the lift for wearing a beautiful perfume and another woman for her hair cut. This is the beautiful thing about compliments- they please the receiver as well as donor equally. Result- I am happy again. 

So I guess it’s time to eat!!

P.S. There is no such thing as 'complimenting men'. Everything else is an ego massage. 

That Color

And that color is getting sprinkled everywhere..

A stranger leaving that green of his footprints

A road-side bar playing that golden velvety song

The Sun casting that yellowish shadow on the sharp edge of a junk boat

That turquoise glimpse of the vast ocean caught between two shoulders across a bus window

This is not the change in season….this is the change in you!

P.S. This is my blog. I am free to write all the BS I wish to.

Promise to myself

I don’t feel ignominious to say that am dreading that moment.

After Mom boards the flight and I leave the airport, I am scared to come back to see the home become a house again.

I had been acting smart. I had been planning all escape routes- to see Navpreet, to go for night hiking/ camping or to just go for a sleepover at some friend’s place. I didn’t want see the sight of a warm home turning into a cold house.

I have been doing this since ever. To run away from that ‘moment’. To just avoid and let it pass, to change my way in order to keep off the sight where you see turning yourself weak. Probably I had been living under the illusions of my 'strength' since. 

And then I realized that unless I meet the demons of my fear of loneliness, I can never fight with them.

So this time, I have planned a bigger event. After airport, I’ll go straight to home, open the door and meet the monsters awaiting me. And, look into their eyes. I don’t say that I will be strong to fight with them or win but now, I have decided to confront them.

I want to see myself fighting. I want to see myself protecting myself, even if I die the next moment. I want to see myself counter this.. even if I fail. 

Here is my promise to myself- I’ll face everything that I have been avoiding. Each time I see a wall, I’ll not pass through side but bang my head into it and wait for one thing to crack- the wall or the head. 

Two Women

"Both of us, respectfully accepting each other’s individuality and silently admitting our restricted roles in each other’s life..."

It’s beautiful the way I see it-

Two women. Born in different timelines of a Century. In different families. They lived under different circumstances and yet same society. They didn't know each other until they met for the first time. After this meeting, their lives changed but got connected. This was me and my mother.

------~-----

I am not sure but quite confident that the old ill-tempered I will be back soon (I already hear the foot-steps) and I’ll have to spend the rest of days with this grumpy woman inside me.

Mom is set to go back to India soon, leaving me loved, taken care of and fatter. I have not let her pack the luggage yet. The same I, who had been forcing her to pack her bags a month before she had to arrive.

Not that I am not used to staying alone or that staying secluded has been my nature. But that my emotional organs have comfortably become numb in the past few years.

Not that I am scared to stay alone but that I will miss her. I’ll miss the fragrant kitchen. I’ll miss being asked “what do you want to eat today”. I’ll miss my wardrobe full of colorful Indian dresses. I’ll miss getting up and seeing same pair of eyes, lips and same sound of snoring. So, it is not back to square one in my case. Certainly not.

I had discussed the natural emotions of attachment, bondage with my meditation teacher much before I was to get into this but his reply was beautiful- “Stay real. It’s your mother’s pure love. There is not an inch of falsity in it. Feel it without restricting yourself”. And I allowed myself to enjoy every moment of it.

And, there is a shift. The point that I have hinted before…

I was not the daughtery daughter this time. Yeah. And she wasn’t the motherly mother as she always has been. Both of us, respectfully accepting each other’s individuality and silently admitting our restricted roles in each other’s life.

She did what she has never done- ask (not force) me about the decisions I had made about my life. And, I did with her what I had never done- to force (not ask) her to turn of Facebook/YouTube and sleep :) 

As usual Richard Bach’s words become the most appropriate – “We were two boats met mid-ocean, each changing course to sail for a while in the same direction over an empty sea. Different boats on our way to different ports, and we knew it.”

P.S.  Mom has no access to my blogs