Perspective: April 2015

Tuesday 21 April 2015

Look Up

Look up, they say! Be optimistic, they say! Think positive, they also say! But what happens when this” looking up” makes you come down a cropper? Does every cloud, however dark, hide a silver lining?

Recently I was literally following this “look up” maxim to the “T”. Deciding to give in to the cajoling of the head of the house (HOH) , i.e. husband dear and darling daughter(DD), I ventured out for a brisk evening walk with them. I had donned my walking shoes, put on my headphones, and sailed forth at an energetic pace. It was getting dark but I was determined to enjoy my walk! The HOH and DD quickly outpaced me and, bent upon enjoying my walk, I too continued, chin up, making the most of my walk, in tune with the latest music.

One round of the rugby ground’s periphery was over and I was blithely one-fourth way of the second round when I suddenly stumbled-stars danced before my eyes, my spectacles flew and my front teeth met the uneven gravel path with a sickening crash! I had literally come a cropper and lay splayed flat, face down, on the walkway!!

Some intuition made my DD turn back suddenly to sense something amiss. It was pretty dark by this time but some sixth sense must have made her turn around just then. She rushed to help me but I brusquely asked her not to touch me. My front teeth had borne the brunt of the fall and felt completely and strangely numb around my mouth – numbness so profound that it seemed that my teeth had been knocked out with the impact, or got fused into my nose. The sensation was horrible. All the other bruises which I may have got did not seem so important but I did want to make sure that I had not broken any bones – my knees, or my elbows.

I gingerly balanced myself on my palms and knees and held the sidewalk boundary stones to haul myself up. DD retrieved and put back my specs on my nose and immediately rang up the HOH who was striding far ahead. He came rushing back and took in the awful sight of rivulets of blood flowing down my gums and lips. By this time I was pretty sure that though my bones elsewhere were intact, all my front teeth had gone – I couldn’t feel them at all!

What was to be done at this time of 8 pm? The nearest hospital, Fortis, referred us to Max hospital which was pretty far, so my husband immediately drove us to the emergency ward of the Army hospital dental Centre. En route, DD rushed home to get my essentials plus lots of ice cubes to soothe my injury. Throughout the entire drive to the hospital the three of us looked aghast at this sudden and unexpected turn of events.

Face still numb, I placed myself in the dental patient’s chair, waiting with bated breath. What would they do? Remove all the four front teeth from a face which God had already made in somewhat of a hurry? My nose had been further flattened and the furrow between the nose and upper lip had disappeared. I was now looking like a true disciple of Shree Hanuman (by the way, it was a Tuesday too).

The doctor, (bless him), tried to shake the affected teeth to check their mobility. With bated breath, we waited for his verdict. He pronounced that there was a crack in the root of one of the incisors. The rest were okay (Yippee!) but would require a splint and a wait of six weeks when a Root Canal would be done. I’ll let you into a secret-one of my upper incisors had always jutted out slightly, giving me a Bugs Bunny look from a certain angle when I smiled. That tooth had automatically aligned with the rest to give me a perfect smile! A cosmetic procedure had been granted by circumstances, suddenly, with some pain.

My fingers are crossed, waiting for the 6 weeks period to be over so that the splints can be removed and I can dazzle the world with my perfect smile. This cloud certainly had a lovely and unexpected silver lining so I’d advise everyone to look up – you never know what good things are in store.

Sunday 19 April 2015

My New Start

Twenty –five years is a long time. A flash-back: rushed mornings, tired evenings; life consciously and neatly segregated into two compartments- office and home. Work rarely came home though the workday often stretched up to 7pm.

Those days Bank jobs were as coveted as they are now. After an Economics honours degree from a leading Delhi college, the logical aspiration was a Bank Officer’s job. Marriage to a dashing Air Force officer, a darling daughter, a sunshine son and transfers pan-India from Bangalore to Pune, Allahabad to Nasik, meant staying in and imbibing the culture, cuisine and ethos of India’s richly diverse states.

Life was fast, life was fun, but the madness of rushing around, trying to do everything left some part of my soul wanting - something was missing. I wanted to be able to stand and stare. Drawing and painting were my childhood passions. I had also loved writing. Now my writing was confined to the “notes for approval of the Competent Authority”. I was simply doing what I had to do, not what I wanted to do.

Cut to 2001: Banking changed; computers came, as did the banks’ Voluntary Retirement Scheme (VRS), since less manpower was needed. Should I, or should I not, opt for VRS? I was nowhere near the retirement age. VRS meant doing with much less. There would be a vacuum, I knew.

My heart won over my head. I boldly opted for VRS against advice to the contrary from well-meaning people. The initial days were a struggle- from being a “somebody”, I felt reduced to a “stay- at- home nobody”-no entity, no personal identity. I did get my time to stand and stare and slowly realized that there was still much more to life.

I loved the English language and made my rounds of publishers to get work, then got into an organization teaching “spoken” English. Soon I was training school children, working professionals, housewives, foreigners, the nuances of the English language.

It became a win-win situation for me- I was interacting with people from diverse backgrounds and also honing my own skills. I graduated to taking Communication Skills and Personality Development classes and from there to online editing of manuscripts of students seeking admission to foreign universities.

I have been more than adequately compensated in non-materialistic terms- my time is my own, I’m doing what I love, at my own pace. The respect and adulation of my students, the satisfaction of having made a difference to those (who come with aspirations but find expressing themselves in English a stumbling block), cannot be matched with the biggest pay cheque.

I’m glad I took the bold step of opting for VRS. My life has changed for the better and I have not looked back even once.

This story is about the start of my new life #StartANewLife. Check out the latest housing at https://housing.com/

Wednesday 15 April 2015

Eternal Circle

Have you seen the new leaves on Delhi's trees these days? Delhi has the unique distinction of hosting Spring and Autumn together. The shiny, coppery green new leaves of the Jamun, Banyan and Peepul trees, the lime green shoots on the branches of others are breath-taking.

The Gulmohar, which in some months will be a riot of Orange is bursting forth small tendrils of its new foliage from branches which the sunless bleak winter had laid bare.

The Morning Glory on my balcony grill greets me with a burst of its trumpet-like flowers every morning, heralding the start of a beautiful spring morning.

In contrast, heaps of yellowing leaves line the lanes where some trees have begun their Autumnal Spring dance. These contrasts reinforce the eternal truth that beginnings and endings are both a part of an eternal circle.

Tuesday 14 April 2015

Youth and Old Age

(image source)

Two sharply etched images remain in my subconscious after today’s outing to the Bank and the Post office. One is of an old man, struggling with his walking stick, a bunch of papers in his hand; his thick glasses perched on his nose, straggly sparse grayed white hair, totally engrossed in what the bunch of papers hold.

As usual, my imagination runs riot-has his monthly income scheme matured? Like my mother, is he crediting his grandchildren’s accounts or is he barely able to eke out his sunset years from his carefully saved retirement benefits which he has tried to maximize with his very frugal existence?

Behind my car, there is urgent honking from a white City Honda. As it overtakes me, I see a young lad of around 20 something behind the wheel looking very dashing and impressive. I think of my son driving the family car, rushing ahead, with not a moment to spare.

Wonder whether the child driving the City Honda owns it, or it is papa’s generosity? Also regarding the old gentleman, do his children have time for him? More pertinent is the thought of who is really more dignified and impressive of the two-the one carefully handling his hard earned money or the one dashing about in his fancy car? Just give it a thought!!