Gratitude diaries- 11
Just like that, the first month of the new year is over! and I'm woefully short of my target of writing 40 thank you notes before my 40th birthday! Now I'll have to write two notes a day to meet my target. Doable? Probably. If I'm sincere and diligent, not lazy.
Aban is my other BFF, apart from Kash. It would be impossible for me to choose or prioritise between the two. They are both equally special to me. Three of us have been BFFs for 25 years and counting. This three-way friendship is one of the major blessings of my life and I'm really grateful to have these two very special ladies as my friends.
Aban is probably the only person with right-wing views who is so very dear to me. She and I do clash over our views at times, but back off from any full-blown confrontations. Aban has always been a straight talker and believes in saying it like it is. I appreciate her honesty even though it may sting at times. She comes across as a no-nonsense person but is a real softy at heart. I remember one particular instance in college. She was marching down the corridor with a fierce war like expression on her face. One of her friend's boyfriend had been making the friend cry, and she was on her way to give the unfortunate fellow a piece of her mind. Then she saw me and her expression softened. She came over to give me a hug (congratulations were due, I had just received interview calls from IIMs) and told me how happy she was for me. Then she continued on her mission with the war-like expression resumed.
We have a common pool of so many fun memories. Like the time we went to the Bon Jovi concert and had to push the car which broke down on the way. Like the time we went to 1900s. All the times we had breakfast in CCI and went for walks on Marine Drive. Numerous shopping trips.
I feel comfortable telling anything to her and need never fear being judged. Spending time with her and Kash is my favourite thing to do. In some ways, I rely on her (and Kash) for emotional support even more than on my own husband.
Thank you Aban, for your friendship, unwavering support and all the fun times over the years and I hope to have these for the rest of my life.
Monday 30 January 2017
Gratitude diaries- 10
It would be quite unfair to write about Amaya and not write about Shaayra. But poor Shaayra is always playing second fiddle to Amaya and guess will continue to do so. My second niece Shaayra (spelt Shaira officially but I prefer my own spelling) was born in 2009, seven months before my twin boys. Being close to them in age, they play well together. Shaayra is not as drop-dead gorgeous-looking as her older sister. But she does remind me of her mother anyway. In many ways though, she reminds me of the childhood me. I haven't spent much time with my nieces, but the dynamics i have observed between them remind me of the dynamics between my sister and I when we were kids. I see in her behaviour the same sensitivity, moodiness, tendency to escape into books and insecurity that I used to have. But at the same time, there is also a streak of silly humour which I did not have. That streak makes me feel relieved. I hope she is able to retain it, and not become all serious-like, which she can appear, especially with her spectacles (at age 7!) and determined little chin. With the benefit of my experience, I can tell you, Shaayra, though you won't believe me, that things will change with your big sister. She won't always be mean to you. You will be able to have her as a best friend once she starts treating you as an equal, which she will when you are both older. Having an older sister is the best thing in the world. You will need to be strong, to withstand the comparison with her beauty but I think that you will be more than equal to this task. I am glad that you are there to make us laugh with your silly dances, your rhymes and your jokes. I am glad that you will be there for Amaya when she grows up because she will need you- you are the stronger of the two- though you don't know it yet. I am as proud and privileged to be your aunt as I am Amaya's. Thank you for being you.
Gratitude diaries- 9
Amaya
The first child to be born in my immediate family was Amaya. In 2006, I became a proud aunt to this little baby girl. My sister was a little bemused at first at how besotted my father appeared of this baby. She confided in me that at times my father seemed to care more about the baby's welfare than hers, a definite first! It was a similar experience to mine, where I was a bit surprised to see my sister being more tender towards another human being than towards me- a first! Now I have learnt firsthand at how kids turn everything topsy-turvy in the world, and the above two recollections no longer seem remarkable to me. Amaya has been a gorgeous girl since she was a baby- she has clearly drawn on the genetic lottery of having two good looking parents. We all feel fiercely proud that such beauty should be part of our family, but there is so much more to her than her looks!
It seems incredible that our family, which was living in villages just two generations ago, is now represented by this golden child, who straddles two nationalities with ease, has travelled to several countries and had such varied experiences- all before the age of ten. Fortunately, she is pretty well-behaved for all that, not at all spoilt or blasé which one could have expected her to be. Thank you child, for all the joy you have brought to our lives- especially to your grandfather. Your accomplishments (which are legion- horse riding, piano, ballet) are a tremendous source of joy and pride to your grandfather and mother. I am glad that you are attached to your grandfather and care a lot for him. You are a good big sister to Aseem and Sasha and listen to me in front of them and are a good role model for them to follow. Thank you for the free child labour you provide, whenever you are around (which isn't too often, sadly). I look forward to you growing up so I can lecture you on all sorts of topics and do your make up and make you look even more beautiful than you already are. I hope that you will be able to confide in me and feel safe with me and that I will be able to get through to you when your parents won't be able to. I feel really lucky and privileged to be your aunt. Bless you.
The first child to be born in my immediate family was Amaya. In 2006, I became a proud aunt to this little baby girl. My sister was a little bemused at first at how besotted my father appeared of this baby. She confided in me that at times my father seemed to care more about the baby's welfare than hers, a definite first! It was a similar experience to mine, where I was a bit surprised to see my sister being more tender towards another human being than towards me- a first! Now I have learnt firsthand at how kids turn everything topsy-turvy in the world, and the above two recollections no longer seem remarkable to me. Amaya has been a gorgeous girl since she was a baby- she has clearly drawn on the genetic lottery of having two good looking parents. We all feel fiercely proud that such beauty should be part of our family, but there is so much more to her than her looks!
It seems incredible that our family, which was living in villages just two generations ago, is now represented by this golden child, who straddles two nationalities with ease, has travelled to several countries and had such varied experiences- all before the age of ten. Fortunately, she is pretty well-behaved for all that, not at all spoilt or blasé which one could have expected her to be. Thank you child, for all the joy you have brought to our lives- especially to your grandfather. Your accomplishments (which are legion- horse riding, piano, ballet) are a tremendous source of joy and pride to your grandfather and mother. I am glad that you are attached to your grandfather and care a lot for him. You are a good big sister to Aseem and Sasha and listen to me in front of them and are a good role model for them to follow. Thank you for the free child labour you provide, whenever you are around (which isn't too often, sadly). I look forward to you growing up so I can lecture you on all sorts of topics and do your make up and make you look even more beautiful than you already are. I hope that you will be able to confide in me and feel safe with me and that I will be able to get through to you when your parents won't be able to. I feel really lucky and privileged to be your aunt. Bless you.
Tuesday 24 January 2017
Gratitude diaries- 8
I didn't really have much of grandparents' presence in my life. Although three grandparents were alive when I was a child, we could really have them (or any relatives, for that matter) around, because of my mother's illness. Mrs Sivaramkrishnan was perhaps the closest I had for a grandmother figure. She was the wife of a senior of my father. She loved kids and young people and loved having them around. When we moved to Bombay, I was a part of a group of kids she liked and often invited home. We all enjoyed going to her place, because she lived on the 19th floor, which none of us did. There weren't that many skyscrapers in those days (early 90s) and we certainly didn't know anyone who lived on such high a floor. It was fun to go on the balcony and look down to see tiny buses and people and cars moving around. Also, she could always be counted upon to give us something nice to eat. She has a signature drink which we made for us- it was made from strawberry crush and we loved it. She had many young friends like ourselves, of various ages, but I think I was her favourite. She really made it a point to make me feel like part of her family. She called me over to hang out when her sons were visiting with their families. She took us out on some occasions. She asked me to come to the airport to see her off when she was travelling to the US. She enjoyed my company and would get upset if several months went by without me dropping in on her. She was very well travelled and I enjoyed hearing of her experiences.
She was very supportive when I came back after my first term in Ahmedabad in tears, saying that it was too difficult and that I couldn't cope. She made me wait while she disappeared outside her home. She came back with a young lady, who was another of her friends. This girl was an alumna of IIM and she told me that it was really difficult for everyone and that I should hang on.
When I was getting married, I invited her for the reception because only family was being invited for the ceremonies. She asked me if she could attend the ceremony because she wanted to be part of it. She was there with me for much of the wedding day, right up there on the stage with my family and closest friends and then later again in the evening for the reception. She called me the day after, to check if I was doing fine, when I was at my in-laws place- the bride surrounded by new relatives.
I was heartbroken when she was diagnosed with cancer later in the year. I didn't realise how fond I was of her till it was time to lose her. At first she didn't want to see or talk to anyone after her diagnosis. I kept track of her health by calling her husband frequently. In a couple of months, she let her husband know that I could drop by and see her. She underwent a surgery and chemotherapy. I did not go to see her in hospital as I was really busy with work and anyway I dislike hospitals. My sister went. Being a doctor she is stronger and more used to things like these. She reported back to me that auntie looked really ill and was not able to talk, so it's better I did not go to see her as I would have probably howled. No doubt I would have. For a time, she recovered well and it seemed like she had beaten the cancer. i went to see her at home and she did look well, though she was a lot thinner. She told me that she understood why I hadn't visited in the hospital, that it would have been too much for me. But in some time the doctors discovered new spread of cancer. She told me over the phone that it was bad news. I went to see her for what turned out to be the last time. She knew at this visit that she was dying but still acted as normal as possible, apart from a short breakdown. She died soon after. I cried buckets when I heard.
I loved her. She is the only person that I have loved who I have lost to death. I'm sure she looks down on me with fondness and love, wherever she is. Thank you aunty for your love, affection, friendship and company for several years.
I didn't really have much of grandparents' presence in my life. Although three grandparents were alive when I was a child, we could really have them (or any relatives, for that matter) around, because of my mother's illness. Mrs Sivaramkrishnan was perhaps the closest I had for a grandmother figure. She was the wife of a senior of my father. She loved kids and young people and loved having them around. When we moved to Bombay, I was a part of a group of kids she liked and often invited home. We all enjoyed going to her place, because she lived on the 19th floor, which none of us did. There weren't that many skyscrapers in those days (early 90s) and we certainly didn't know anyone who lived on such high a floor. It was fun to go on the balcony and look down to see tiny buses and people and cars moving around. Also, she could always be counted upon to give us something nice to eat. She has a signature drink which we made for us- it was made from strawberry crush and we loved it. She had many young friends like ourselves, of various ages, but I think I was her favourite. She really made it a point to make me feel like part of her family. She called me over to hang out when her sons were visiting with their families. She took us out on some occasions. She asked me to come to the airport to see her off when she was travelling to the US. She enjoyed my company and would get upset if several months went by without me dropping in on her. She was very well travelled and I enjoyed hearing of her experiences.
She was very supportive when I came back after my first term in Ahmedabad in tears, saying that it was too difficult and that I couldn't cope. She made me wait while she disappeared outside her home. She came back with a young lady, who was another of her friends. This girl was an alumna of IIM and she told me that it was really difficult for everyone and that I should hang on.
When I was getting married, I invited her for the reception because only family was being invited for the ceremonies. She asked me if she could attend the ceremony because she wanted to be part of it. She was there with me for much of the wedding day, right up there on the stage with my family and closest friends and then later again in the evening for the reception. She called me the day after, to check if I was doing fine, when I was at my in-laws place- the bride surrounded by new relatives.
I was heartbroken when she was diagnosed with cancer later in the year. I didn't realise how fond I was of her till it was time to lose her. At first she didn't want to see or talk to anyone after her diagnosis. I kept track of her health by calling her husband frequently. In a couple of months, she let her husband know that I could drop by and see her. She underwent a surgery and chemotherapy. I did not go to see her in hospital as I was really busy with work and anyway I dislike hospitals. My sister went. Being a doctor she is stronger and more used to things like these. She reported back to me that auntie looked really ill and was not able to talk, so it's better I did not go to see her as I would have probably howled. No doubt I would have. For a time, she recovered well and it seemed like she had beaten the cancer. i went to see her at home and she did look well, though she was a lot thinner. She told me that she understood why I hadn't visited in the hospital, that it would have been too much for me. But in some time the doctors discovered new spread of cancer. She told me over the phone that it was bad news. I went to see her for what turned out to be the last time. She knew at this visit that she was dying but still acted as normal as possible, apart from a short breakdown. She died soon after. I cried buckets when I heard.
I loved her. She is the only person that I have loved who I have lost to death. I'm sure she looks down on me with fondness and love, wherever she is. Thank you aunty for your love, affection, friendship and company for several years.
Sunday 22 January 2017
Gratitude diaries- 7
Today's gratitude note is directed to a language rather than a person- French
I've always known I am good at languages because I scored well, at times, extraordinarily well, at languages in school- Hindi, Marathi and English. When I moved to Bombay in 1991 and started going to St. Anne's, I thought it so cool that most of the girls were studying French. I had never studied a foreign language before. Unfortunately, since I had not taken French in eighth and ninth standard, I could not suddenly take it in tenth. I did think that it was a bit unfair that the girls could score really high in French (like in the nineties out of hundred) but I could only score in the eighties at the most in Marathi. I made up my mind to rectify this disadvantage as soon as I could and I got the opportunity in my first year of Junior college where I had the option of taking French and did take it. But unfortunately, there were few teachers in the college who actually bothered to teach. There was a lady for French but she was rather lousy. I soon realised that I needed help and then I started going to for tuitions at an old Parsi lady's house. She was competent but utterly boring and though her teaching would help me to pass my first exams, it was with low marks. Then I found out about Alliance Francaise. I did a comparison of cost per hour of Alliance vs French tuitions and realised that Alliance was much more cost effective and intensive. So with an aim of scoring well in my second year of junior college in French, I joined Alliance Francaise.
I was immediately stuck by how different this was from tuitions. The contrast could not be more stark. The tuitions relied on rote but Alliance approach was fun and organic. At first, I was shy and inhibited at the group work and public speaking the course demanded. But as I realised I was getting good at French, I became more confident and started enjoying myself. The right type of teaching makes all the difference in the world. Before I started going to Alliance, I was way behind my peers, who had three years of studying French under their belt. By the time I finished my second three month course, they were all far, far behind me, in every respect- oral or written.
In hindsight, it was very good that I was part of Alliance during those years in college. I was utterly wasting my time and not learning anything useful. Picking up French helped me use my time and the interactive method of teaching forced me to meet people and interact with them. Also, it opened a window into another country- it's culture, poetry, food, art.
It was stupid of me to not continue studying with Alliance Francaise once I finished with French at college. Had I continued with it, it may have opened other doors, which may have led to other places. Anyhow, my relationship with French has continued. I went back to Alliance Francaise in 2004, after 12 years for another couple of courses. And have returned to Alliance again now, after twelve years, here in Dubai. Each time, it has fulfilled my need for mental stimulation and creativity, besides giving me a chance to interact with people from different walks of life, of different ages and at different stages in life. That's what makes Alliance interesting. and of course, the fact that I am really, really good in the class, never fails to give me a huge ego boost. Who knows, maybe I will get my diploma in French this time around, and finally start speaking fluently, like I speak English.
I've always known I am good at languages because I scored well, at times, extraordinarily well, at languages in school- Hindi, Marathi and English. When I moved to Bombay in 1991 and started going to St. Anne's, I thought it so cool that most of the girls were studying French. I had never studied a foreign language before. Unfortunately, since I had not taken French in eighth and ninth standard, I could not suddenly take it in tenth. I did think that it was a bit unfair that the girls could score really high in French (like in the nineties out of hundred) but I could only score in the eighties at the most in Marathi. I made up my mind to rectify this disadvantage as soon as I could and I got the opportunity in my first year of Junior college where I had the option of taking French and did take it. But unfortunately, there were few teachers in the college who actually bothered to teach. There was a lady for French but she was rather lousy. I soon realised that I needed help and then I started going to for tuitions at an old Parsi lady's house. She was competent but utterly boring and though her teaching would help me to pass my first exams, it was with low marks. Then I found out about Alliance Francaise. I did a comparison of cost per hour of Alliance vs French tuitions and realised that Alliance was much more cost effective and intensive. So with an aim of scoring well in my second year of junior college in French, I joined Alliance Francaise.
I was immediately stuck by how different this was from tuitions. The contrast could not be more stark. The tuitions relied on rote but Alliance approach was fun and organic. At first, I was shy and inhibited at the group work and public speaking the course demanded. But as I realised I was getting good at French, I became more confident and started enjoying myself. The right type of teaching makes all the difference in the world. Before I started going to Alliance, I was way behind my peers, who had three years of studying French under their belt. By the time I finished my second three month course, they were all far, far behind me, in every respect- oral or written.
In hindsight, it was very good that I was part of Alliance during those years in college. I was utterly wasting my time and not learning anything useful. Picking up French helped me use my time and the interactive method of teaching forced me to meet people and interact with them. Also, it opened a window into another country- it's culture, poetry, food, art.
It was stupid of me to not continue studying with Alliance Francaise once I finished with French at college. Had I continued with it, it may have opened other doors, which may have led to other places. Anyhow, my relationship with French has continued. I went back to Alliance Francaise in 2004, after 12 years for another couple of courses. And have returned to Alliance again now, after twelve years, here in Dubai. Each time, it has fulfilled my need for mental stimulation and creativity, besides giving me a chance to interact with people from different walks of life, of different ages and at different stages in life. That's what makes Alliance interesting. and of course, the fact that I am really, really good in the class, never fails to give me a huge ego boost. Who knows, maybe I will get my diploma in French this time around, and finally start speaking fluently, like I speak English.
Monday 16 January 2017
Gratitude diaries- 6
Sonal
I can remember having 'best friends' since second grade. Since I shifted so many schools, I had a different best friend in each school- so many best friends over my school life. But the one that stands out from all my school years is Sonal. We were friends through the ages 12 and 13, which i suppose are tumultuous- we had just attained puberty and were becoming teenagers. Sonal was probably the first person I confided in about my mom's illness, outside my family. She was terribly sweet and sympathetic. She loved me a lot and would feel my pain acutely. Through her, I also got a different perspective on my family. I'd always felt sorry for myself in the family department, but through Sonal's envious reaction on witnessing my father kissing me after returning from a tour, I realised that I was perhaps not so unlucky after all. We were extremely comfortable with each other and could talk about anything and everything. It was a first for me. I was not really used to being so open with people outside my immediate family. I am grateful to Sonal for introducing me to that, for teaching me that I need not always be so guarded. She was very much my champion, cheering me on for my intelligence and proud of my good grades. She was luckier than me in the guys department but she never rubbed it in my face. She was very encouraging about my looks and always tried to make me feel good about myself and to make the most of my looks. She was very rich and lived in a huge house, but she was extremely kind hearted and generous and never let me feel awkward about the differences in our station. I practically lived at her house and ate majority of my meals there, and the food was so yummy! I am really ashamed for falling out of touch with her during my MBA and afterwards and for forgetting to invite her for my wedding. Thank you Sonal for being my most special school friend and for your love and generosity and friendship. Gosh, we were so lucky to have each other and I, especially was really lucky to have you.
I can remember having 'best friends' since second grade. Since I shifted so many schools, I had a different best friend in each school- so many best friends over my school life. But the one that stands out from all my school years is Sonal. We were friends through the ages 12 and 13, which i suppose are tumultuous- we had just attained puberty and were becoming teenagers. Sonal was probably the first person I confided in about my mom's illness, outside my family. She was terribly sweet and sympathetic. She loved me a lot and would feel my pain acutely. Through her, I also got a different perspective on my family. I'd always felt sorry for myself in the family department, but through Sonal's envious reaction on witnessing my father kissing me after returning from a tour, I realised that I was perhaps not so unlucky after all. We were extremely comfortable with each other and could talk about anything and everything. It was a first for me. I was not really used to being so open with people outside my immediate family. I am grateful to Sonal for introducing me to that, for teaching me that I need not always be so guarded. She was very much my champion, cheering me on for my intelligence and proud of my good grades. She was luckier than me in the guys department but she never rubbed it in my face. She was very encouraging about my looks and always tried to make me feel good about myself and to make the most of my looks. She was very rich and lived in a huge house, but she was extremely kind hearted and generous and never let me feel awkward about the differences in our station. I practically lived at her house and ate majority of my meals there, and the food was so yummy! I am really ashamed for falling out of touch with her during my MBA and afterwards and for forgetting to invite her for my wedding. Thank you Sonal for being my most special school friend and for your love and generosity and friendship. Gosh, we were so lucky to have each other and I, especially was really lucky to have you.
Saturday 14 January 2017
Gratitude diaries- 5
Keshmira
I just met Keshmira on Thursday, We did something we'd never done before together- grocery shopping! and then had tea. Here is a friendship that has endured for twenty-five years, starting from the first day of college in 1992 in Mumbai to the here and present in Dubai in 2017. My friendship with Keshmira and Aban has been a rock for me to lean on for most of my adult life and I count myself as extremely fortunate to have both of them in my life.
Kesh is extremely easy to talk to- not just for me, for any one. She is always ready to lend a sympathetic ear, which I have no doubt I have chewed off with many a rants over many a telephone conversations. Thanks to her, I have been able to get insight into the Bohri culture. I have always been impressed by how cosmopolitan and modern her family is, and it gives me ammunition to counter the people who tend to dismiss Muslims as conservative and backward.
We share so many memories together- of being young and carefree, having fun, experimenting with new things. It is really heart-warming to be able to go over the memories together and re-live them together. We've comforted one another through heartbreaks and disappointments and depended on one another for advice.
Kash always puts up with my excesses- I can be quite annoyingly know-it-all and arrogant about my intelligence sometimes, but she never tries to put me in my place. She is my big admirer and champion and I can always count on her for praise and cheering.
She is also very forgiving. I remember when I was upset with her in college, even called her a 'bitch' but she never held it against me.
I know that at some level my sister must be envious of the deep bond that I share with Kash and Aban, because in spite of her numerous close friends, she doesn't have this deep and steadfast friendship with another woman.
Thank you Kash, for being my friend, for always being there for me whenever I need you. Our friendship is one of the great gifts of my life and I cherish it deeply.
I just met Keshmira on Thursday, We did something we'd never done before together- grocery shopping! and then had tea. Here is a friendship that has endured for twenty-five years, starting from the first day of college in 1992 in Mumbai to the here and present in Dubai in 2017. My friendship with Keshmira and Aban has been a rock for me to lean on for most of my adult life and I count myself as extremely fortunate to have both of them in my life.
Kesh is extremely easy to talk to- not just for me, for any one. She is always ready to lend a sympathetic ear, which I have no doubt I have chewed off with many a rants over many a telephone conversations. Thanks to her, I have been able to get insight into the Bohri culture. I have always been impressed by how cosmopolitan and modern her family is, and it gives me ammunition to counter the people who tend to dismiss Muslims as conservative and backward.
We share so many memories together- of being young and carefree, having fun, experimenting with new things. It is really heart-warming to be able to go over the memories together and re-live them together. We've comforted one another through heartbreaks and disappointments and depended on one another for advice.
Kash always puts up with my excesses- I can be quite annoyingly know-it-all and arrogant about my intelligence sometimes, but she never tries to put me in my place. She is my big admirer and champion and I can always count on her for praise and cheering.
She is also very forgiving. I remember when I was upset with her in college, even called her a 'bitch' but she never held it against me.
I know that at some level my sister must be envious of the deep bond that I share with Kash and Aban, because in spite of her numerous close friends, she doesn't have this deep and steadfast friendship with another woman.
Thank you Kash, for being my friend, for always being there for me whenever I need you. Our friendship is one of the great gifts of my life and I cherish it deeply.
Thursday 12 January 2017
Gratitude diaries- 4
Back after a few days of absence. Since it was Alka's birthday yesterday, in honour of that (her 40th), I'll write about her.
Alka and I have been friends since 1998, the year we both entered IIM-A. I had very few friends on the campus and she was one of them. We've had good times together and shared some bad times. When I wanted to drop out of the course because I found it too tough, she was supportive and encouraging and helped me to hang on. She could be tough when needed. I still remember her words to me, when I was ranting about how I could not do this- meaning study late into the night, survive on few hours of sleep, eat this horrible mess food. She said, 'who doesn't those luxuries? Everyone who is here wants to sleep late, eat good home cooked food, not slog so hard. You're no different from us in this respect.' This made me understand that I was not a special case. Others were suffering too. if they could stick it out, perhaps so could I.
Alka's free spirit, boldness and joie de vivre is something I truly admire and want to emulate, but can't. But I do think it's great that I could see her example from close at hand.
I've always appreciated the fact that she keeps in touch. It is easy for me to keep in touch with my friends because I can count them on one hand. She however has dozens of close friends, yet she always calls, and tries to meet whenever she is in the same city, inspite of the fact that she lives in another country.
Whenever i have asked for help, whether for contacts for finding jobs, or for moral support or advice, she has always been there and helped if it was possible for her. Her support especially meant a lot to me during the traumatic incident in New York in December 2013.
I am grateful to have such a steadfast friend, whom I can look up to and admire and with whom I have a lot of shared memories. Thank you for everything, Alka.
Alka and I have been friends since 1998, the year we both entered IIM-A. I had very few friends on the campus and she was one of them. We've had good times together and shared some bad times. When I wanted to drop out of the course because I found it too tough, she was supportive and encouraging and helped me to hang on. She could be tough when needed. I still remember her words to me, when I was ranting about how I could not do this- meaning study late into the night, survive on few hours of sleep, eat this horrible mess food. She said, 'who doesn't those luxuries? Everyone who is here wants to sleep late, eat good home cooked food, not slog so hard. You're no different from us in this respect.' This made me understand that I was not a special case. Others were suffering too. if they could stick it out, perhaps so could I.
Alka's free spirit, boldness and joie de vivre is something I truly admire and want to emulate, but can't. But I do think it's great that I could see her example from close at hand.
I've always appreciated the fact that she keeps in touch. It is easy for me to keep in touch with my friends because I can count them on one hand. She however has dozens of close friends, yet she always calls, and tries to meet whenever she is in the same city, inspite of the fact that she lives in another country.
Whenever i have asked for help, whether for contacts for finding jobs, or for moral support or advice, she has always been there and helped if it was possible for her. Her support especially meant a lot to me during the traumatic incident in New York in December 2013.
I am grateful to have such a steadfast friend, whom I can look up to and admire and with whom I have a lot of shared memories. Thank you for everything, Alka.
Tuesday 3 January 2017
Gratitude diaries- 3
My father
Pages and pages could be written about my father without them doing justice to him. He is a public figure, a minor celebrity and an inspiration to many people in our home state of Maharashtra for his rise from humble beginnings to great power and influence. To me, he is more the father who sacrificed personal happiness and comfort to give my sister and I a stable home. He is hero for having lived with a schizophrenic wife for his entire adult life. My sister and I are bound to our mother by blood and could never abandon her. But he is not and could have, easily. It would have been far easier for him to walk away and start a new life with someone else. But he stayed for our sakes. and even now, when my sister and I live away, in our own homes with own families and can give limited time to the well-being of our mother, he is the one who is her rock, her support and main care giver. I can never be grateful enough.
I am lucky to have a living example in him of grit and determination, of trying, failing, never giving up and of being courageous. Unfortunately, I have not internalised these traits as much as I'd like to have, because my personality is fundamentally different from his. But at times, I've tried. My values, ethics, sense of social responsibility and empathy towards the poor and weak, comes directly from him. I modelled my behaviour on how I saw him behaving. How many people have the opportunity to have such a strong role model in their lives? I lucked out.
He has always been extremely supportive in everything we set out to do. Even now, I know I can count on him any time of the day or night, if I need his help, whether emotionally, practically or financially. His love is unconditional.
I have often in the past lamented about my difficult childhood and family life in my early years, but now I can look back and see that inspite of the difficulties, I was very lucky indeed to be surrounded by love. And looking at each of the three main figures in my life- mother, sister and father, I realise that I could not wish for anything other than these three people to have lived my life with.
It is no small thing to be thankful for, that they are all alive and in good health. What more could i want from life? May God keep them well and happy, all into ripe old age, along with me.
My father
Pages and pages could be written about my father without them doing justice to him. He is a public figure, a minor celebrity and an inspiration to many people in our home state of Maharashtra for his rise from humble beginnings to great power and influence. To me, he is more the father who sacrificed personal happiness and comfort to give my sister and I a stable home. He is hero for having lived with a schizophrenic wife for his entire adult life. My sister and I are bound to our mother by blood and could never abandon her. But he is not and could have, easily. It would have been far easier for him to walk away and start a new life with someone else. But he stayed for our sakes. and even now, when my sister and I live away, in our own homes with own families and can give limited time to the well-being of our mother, he is the one who is her rock, her support and main care giver. I can never be grateful enough.
I am lucky to have a living example in him of grit and determination, of trying, failing, never giving up and of being courageous. Unfortunately, I have not internalised these traits as much as I'd like to have, because my personality is fundamentally different from his. But at times, I've tried. My values, ethics, sense of social responsibility and empathy towards the poor and weak, comes directly from him. I modelled my behaviour on how I saw him behaving. How many people have the opportunity to have such a strong role model in their lives? I lucked out.
He has always been extremely supportive in everything we set out to do. Even now, I know I can count on him any time of the day or night, if I need his help, whether emotionally, practically or financially. His love is unconditional.
I have often in the past lamented about my difficult childhood and family life in my early years, but now I can look back and see that inspite of the difficulties, I was very lucky indeed to be surrounded by love. And looking at each of the three main figures in my life- mother, sister and father, I realise that I could not wish for anything other than these three people to have lived my life with.
It is no small thing to be thankful for, that they are all alive and in good health. What more could i want from life? May God keep them well and happy, all into ripe old age, along with me.
Monday 2 January 2017
Gratitude diaries- 2
My older sister. I am so grateful to have her in my life.
The bond between sisters is special. My sister and I are probably even closer than most sisters, maybe because of the difficult childhood we shared.
Growing up, she wasn't always very nice to me. She surely resented the special place I occupied in our mother's affection, being the youngest. But by the time we were adolescents, we were as thick as theives.
We shouldered the burden of our mother's illness together and it was a comfort to have someone to share the load with.
She was always super proud of my academic successes, never resenting them even when she looked poorer by comparison. She always encouraged me to do better.
She had the superior social skills and tried to draw me out of my shell, make me more sociable. She gave me beauty and fashion advice and made sure that I made the most of my looks. Her dress sense continues to be impeccable and inspirational to me to this day.
She never shut me out, always included me with her friends and continues to do so today.
She has always supported me and given me courage when I was going through difficulties or stressful periods. I am so lucky to have someone who I can always count on, no matter where or when I need her.
She inspires strength through her personal example. She has suffered from a lot of public opprobrium, but has never let it shake her confidence and faith in herself.
when her daughter was born, I was a bit taken aback by the tenderness which she showed towards the baby- she had never shown that depth of feeling for any other person than me!
I am really, really grateful to have her in my life.
My older sister. I am so grateful to have her in my life.
The bond between sisters is special. My sister and I are probably even closer than most sisters, maybe because of the difficult childhood we shared.
Growing up, she wasn't always very nice to me. She surely resented the special place I occupied in our mother's affection, being the youngest. But by the time we were adolescents, we were as thick as theives.
We shouldered the burden of our mother's illness together and it was a comfort to have someone to share the load with.
She was always super proud of my academic successes, never resenting them even when she looked poorer by comparison. She always encouraged me to do better.
She had the superior social skills and tried to draw me out of my shell, make me more sociable. She gave me beauty and fashion advice and made sure that I made the most of my looks. Her dress sense continues to be impeccable and inspirational to me to this day.
She never shut me out, always included me with her friends and continues to do so today.
She has always supported me and given me courage when I was going through difficulties or stressful periods. I am so lucky to have someone who I can always count on, no matter where or when I need her.
She inspires strength through her personal example. She has suffered from a lot of public opprobrium, but has never let it shake her confidence and faith in herself.
when her daughter was born, I was a bit taken aback by the tenderness which she showed towards the baby- she had never shown that depth of feeling for any other person than me!
I am really, really grateful to have her in my life.
Sunday 1 January 2017
Gratitude diaries- 1
As part of my private fortieth birthday celebrations, I have decided to write thank-you notes to 40 people, or places, or institutions or experiences.
This is the first one.
Thank you note to my mother.
Mother-daughter relationships are complicated, so I've read. My earliest memories are of me and my sister competing for my mother's attention, and me coming out on top. Perhaps it is natural for a mother to be extra fond of her youngest. I certainly find that in my own case. I know my sister was jealous of the spot I occupied and felt vaguely guilty about that when I was a kid.
I have been aware since my childhood that my mother was 'different' and not in a good way. Her mental illness was the most dominant influence in our childhood. I often feel that my tendency to be negative, melancholy and unhappy can be traced to growing up with a mentally ill parent. But this is probably partially true only. I see shyness, lack of confidence and a tendency to bottle up emotions in my youngest as well and I lament that he has inherited these from me. I think that I must have inherited these from my mother, and coupled with the stress of my childhood environment, these would have got exacerbated to the extent that being unhappy is simply a habit of mine. Sasha has a happy childhood so he will probably be spared.
Hard though it was, growing up with a very vulnerable adult has instilled a strong sense of empathy in me. It has made me sensitive to the pain that dysfunctional families suffer.
When I look back, I am overawed by how well my mother managed, given her circumstances. I don't think I'd have been able to do half as well as her. To manage a household, often complicated by a large number of servants (thanks to my father's district postings) and frequent moves and to bring up two daughters seems like a heroic achievement to me, when your mind is full of voices. She never neglected her motherly and household duties and gave us as normal a life as possible in terms of practicalities. We were always as well-fed, well-groomed as any other kids and had everything we needed in our day-to-day school lives. Although she did not supervise my studies or involve herself greatly in them, she always made sure that we knew we were supposed to do well at school and we always did.
Now that I know firsthand how crippling depression can be, how easy it is to shirk all your responsibilities because you don't have the mental energy, I think that my mother was heroine in that she never shirked hers. She is incredibly strong in that respect, to this day.
At times when I expected her to break down and be weak, she has remained strong and given me strength instead. I recall two specific incidents. The first one was when I was leaving for Ahmedabad to do my MBA. This was the first time I was leaving home and though I was excited and happy to get away, I remember the pain and anguish I felt at the doorstep as I was walking out to go to the airport. I broke down and fully expected my mother to break down even more. But even as she was crying, she hugged me and said, 'you need to do this for your education. Even your cousin Vinaya went to IIM Calcutta for her education, didn't she?'. And with those encouraging words, she sent me on my way to become an adult.
The second occasion was when I was married. When the wedding reception was over and I said my good byes to everyone and it was time for me to go to my marital home, I again felt the pain of separation from my natal family and fear of the future and burst into tears. Again, I expected her to break down at the sight of my tears. But she didn't. She didn't even cry. She admonished me instead, 'go with joy, not tears.' I know she must have cried later after my car left. But on these two occasions, she gave me strength when I most needed it.
Thank you, mummy for everything you've ever done, all the sacrifices you have made for me and my sister. All children, once they are old enough, understand the sacrifices their parents made. You parented with the heavy burden of your illness as well as you could. Today, you are unselfish and undemanding, content with whatever time we can spend with you, never making us feel guilty of not spending more. You ask nothing of us. I hope that I can be as unselfish with my kids when I am older.
I do not believe in reincarnation. But at some level, I hope for it for you. I hope that you are born again, and born whole, normal and that you enjoy a life without the burden of mental illness, so you can fulfil your ambitions and reach your potential, which you couldn't do in this life.
This is the first one.
Thank you note to my mother.
Mother-daughter relationships are complicated, so I've read. My earliest memories are of me and my sister competing for my mother's attention, and me coming out on top. Perhaps it is natural for a mother to be extra fond of her youngest. I certainly find that in my own case. I know my sister was jealous of the spot I occupied and felt vaguely guilty about that when I was a kid.
I have been aware since my childhood that my mother was 'different' and not in a good way. Her mental illness was the most dominant influence in our childhood. I often feel that my tendency to be negative, melancholy and unhappy can be traced to growing up with a mentally ill parent. But this is probably partially true only. I see shyness, lack of confidence and a tendency to bottle up emotions in my youngest as well and I lament that he has inherited these from me. I think that I must have inherited these from my mother, and coupled with the stress of my childhood environment, these would have got exacerbated to the extent that being unhappy is simply a habit of mine. Sasha has a happy childhood so he will probably be spared.
Hard though it was, growing up with a very vulnerable adult has instilled a strong sense of empathy in me. It has made me sensitive to the pain that dysfunctional families suffer.
When I look back, I am overawed by how well my mother managed, given her circumstances. I don't think I'd have been able to do half as well as her. To manage a household, often complicated by a large number of servants (thanks to my father's district postings) and frequent moves and to bring up two daughters seems like a heroic achievement to me, when your mind is full of voices. She never neglected her motherly and household duties and gave us as normal a life as possible in terms of practicalities. We were always as well-fed, well-groomed as any other kids and had everything we needed in our day-to-day school lives. Although she did not supervise my studies or involve herself greatly in them, she always made sure that we knew we were supposed to do well at school and we always did.
Now that I know firsthand how crippling depression can be, how easy it is to shirk all your responsibilities because you don't have the mental energy, I think that my mother was heroine in that she never shirked hers. She is incredibly strong in that respect, to this day.
At times when I expected her to break down and be weak, she has remained strong and given me strength instead. I recall two specific incidents. The first one was when I was leaving for Ahmedabad to do my MBA. This was the first time I was leaving home and though I was excited and happy to get away, I remember the pain and anguish I felt at the doorstep as I was walking out to go to the airport. I broke down and fully expected my mother to break down even more. But even as she was crying, she hugged me and said, 'you need to do this for your education. Even your cousin Vinaya went to IIM Calcutta for her education, didn't she?'. And with those encouraging words, she sent me on my way to become an adult.
The second occasion was when I was married. When the wedding reception was over and I said my good byes to everyone and it was time for me to go to my marital home, I again felt the pain of separation from my natal family and fear of the future and burst into tears. Again, I expected her to break down at the sight of my tears. But she didn't. She didn't even cry. She admonished me instead, 'go with joy, not tears.' I know she must have cried later after my car left. But on these two occasions, she gave me strength when I most needed it.
Thank you, mummy for everything you've ever done, all the sacrifices you have made for me and my sister. All children, once they are old enough, understand the sacrifices their parents made. You parented with the heavy burden of your illness as well as you could. Today, you are unselfish and undemanding, content with whatever time we can spend with you, never making us feel guilty of not spending more. You ask nothing of us. I hope that I can be as unselfish with my kids when I am older.
I do not believe in reincarnation. But at some level, I hope for it for you. I hope that you are born again, and born whole, normal and that you enjoy a life without the burden of mental illness, so you can fulfil your ambitions and reach your potential, which you couldn't do in this life.
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