Medicine for the soul

My Buddha sat perched delicately on the mattress
With the cat near his feet oddly resembling the lotus of The Buddha
He quietly summoned me with a slight nod
The lines of distress on my face suddenly seemed to ease with that motion
Today's dose of soul medicine was made exclusively for me
A dosage so pure and powerful that it be tasted only once in a fortnight or so
His prescription involved wind in my hair to soothe the knot in my lungs
A drizzle of an hour long rain to shed away high pressure in my blood stream
Holding hands with a friend long enough to stabilize my heart rate
Untasted and unknown food to boost my mental immunity
Letting my hair loose to wash away the stiffness in my joints
Will this cure all my maladies?
This medicine is only a substitute for his presence I concluded

Here's to the normal

I have a story
An ordinary one, a normal one
Knights in shining armour and castles of grandeur do not form the main parts of it
My story is one about the soft, worn rugs
Of coloured, awkwardly shaped pebbles picked up in the playgrounds
Larger than life sacrifices don't dominate my story
Mundane, kind, imperfect friendships do
Love that makes all the butterflies in my tummy go wild builds my story
My stories aren't defined by the hardest adventure or the steepest climb uphill
But tempered by the sweat and blood behind countless small feats
They ask what is so special about your story
I say nothing, it's normal
Sorry to disappoint you
Forgive me for my recipes don't titillate your ravenous hunger
Excuse me that my stories can't be the reason for your adrenaline rush
Or the ache in your cheeks due to uncontrollable laughter
One thing I'm not sorry for is having a story
A story anything but normal
One that floods me with the pride of owning a unique identity
One that gives my name enough reason and enigma of its own
One that helps me weave hundred other stories into my own fabric
One that is a cause enough for me to smile every day!

When I grow up...

When I grow up
I told you, "I will be stronger"
Strong meaning I will not need you to hold me
To guide me, nourish and applaud me
Weakness I guessed would be in reaching out to you for help
Timid assuming you wanted me to stand tall without the scaffolding that's you
Being the flowing sea I tried to touch as many shores as possible
Little did I know that I carry the shiny sand that's you, all through
But grow I did
Not to realize that strong was perfect and alone
New epiphanies struck me to reveal that strong is US
US - so strong as the thunder and lighting that appear to be separated by seconds
Nonetheless both of which do not have an existence alone
Strong as yin and yang, not completing or complementing but just being

Life happens

Life happens
When you fall in love with someone you are not supposed to
In those travel plans that weren't planned
In that extra mile towards a downhill in a trek
With a friend that is too wild for your style
In the crumbs of all the little rules you've broken
In that fifth drink that made you a bit more than tipsy
In the folds of that joint you had under a big tree
In the skipped meetings and lectures
In the money saved by cooking a meal or two with your loved one
In the lucrative career path that you threw away for a lesser one
In your first public dance, the cacophonic karaoke
In those tears at the live poetry festival
In the wrinkles of your favourite book
In the coffee stained Sunday t-shirt you wear while gardening
In the sunny afternoons you spend waiting for a friend
In the magical moments where a stranger transforms into a lifeline

#wonderingwhatlifeis #writingpoetry #adaybeforeexams #whenicantstudyanymore

My superpower!

Through the various stages of growing, I have attributed different strengths to myself. Sometimes I thought I was intelligent and the other times I have described myself as determined. 'Compassionate' is a new addition that I am proud to have in my reserve. However, lately I feel the two things that have predominantly stayed with me in all my journeys are 'resilience' and 'grit'.

During bouts of self-bashing internal dialogues I have struggled with associating myself with these labels. I have been ashamed of setting high expectations for myself, the source of which has been internal as much as it was external. If I strip down my feelings to bare minimum, I see only resilience and grit remaining. I have put myself through very tough situations and taken high risks in spite of knowing it will only cause me discomfort in the going.

When the happy butterflies of getting my first paycheck and having my first alcoholic drink at parties faded away, I realized I have to radically shift the direction my life was going in. I didn't have the skills, contacts, knowledge of working in public sector. I just persisted. My 'sent items' in Gmail from 6 years ago will weave a story of a scared yet stubborn girl approaching every single person that she could lay her hands on and asking them for advice. There were rejections, embarrassments and pure stupidity in many of those interactions. But I was ready to swallow it all just so I get to make a career shift. I have read the shittiest 'self-help' books and hung out with the most boring and arrogant people just so I could learn a little more from them than what I already knew. Backing down was a scarier option than discomfort.

Once I got into doing what I really wanted to, I was scared as s**t. The most critical skills of working in public sector evaded me. My language, common sense and relationship building capabilities were sub-optimal. I wrote exams that I couldn't ace and dreamt of places I couldn't be at. Still I persisted. I took one day at a time. When I finally was at a place that would magically transform me into everything I ever wanted to be, I withdrew. I didn't make friends easily, my professional relationships were strained and there was nobody to take care of me when I fell sick. Still I persisted. I took the effort of staying back for that one extra chai, that one unplanned visit to the mall, that extra 500 bucks on food and drinks, and that one sleepless night conversation which is famed for building lifelong relationships. Slowly but steadily I met people, people who were beautiful and different. So different that I could learn a thousand things from them just blinking my eyes. So beautiful that their presence filled my life with endless love. I grew. One day at a time. I learnt to listen. I calmed down to talk. I flew to love.

Eventually I started flirting with the universe. Telling it ever so lightly in whispers about the deep desires I held in my heart- desires for myself and for others. And as is always the case with universe, it started responding but not slowly and timidly like me but exponentially. Whatever I sent to the universe came back in multiple folds into my life. If I made sure I practiced a few acts of compassion, universe blessed me with the company of numerous big-hearted people. If I showed an ounce of courage in doing a difficult task, universe provided me ladders of support in the form of mentors who allowed me to shine while standing aside as onlookers. It hinted me that it was time that I invested some of my energy in gaining wisdom. Wisdom that seems light to roll on our tongues but morphs into a band of great resistance when applied to action.

I screwed up big projects. Unmet important deadlines. Burnt bridges on important islands. Let down prominent relationships. But I didn't give up. I am everything that I wanted to be and a bit more today.  

What sets apart good ideas?

In one of our strategy classes we happened to discuss this paper by McKinsey that talks about the revolutionary courses of action required to usher in an entire business makeover. Once you study the paper it all seems to be common sense, so much so that it isn't common anymore. The paper lists that the players in a business setting need to come up with unprecedented strategies to gain a strong foothold in their respective sectors and/or to wipe out competition. 

Everybody knows that 'thinking out of the box', 'being unique' and striving creatively do bring out windfall returns in any game. However, why do these articles and books that assert received wisdom stand out in the clutter? Discounting for the common factors such as good writing, critical examples to augment the claim and good language what really sets apart certain presentations of the good ideas? 

In my opinion it is the confidence one has in ideas. History has proved that excellence, wisdom and grandeur can prop up in the most unlikely of situations and people and that they are not limited to a select few. Why then only few privileged few in the society get to take away a big share of the pie? It is because they are willing to believe in themselves, their ideas and are ready to dedicate time and efforts on realizing their ideas. They are blessed with more or less the same capabilities as the next person but their differentiating factor lies in them taking the game ahead on their shoulders. 

This confidence doesn't only come with repeated practice of applying one's ideas but also through reinventing oneself in every trying situation. Complacency, monotony and self-doubt are the biggest foes of confidence. If you have an idea, work on it. Action pays more than mere intellectual rationalization. 

Snaky

One of those days
The only movement you make is to crawl from one end of the bed to the other
The sun shine dims
The thirst, the hunger all wait to knock until you are ready to receive them
The phone calls have more pauses than words
Videos run in tandem with the stories that flow through novels
Sleep beckons you yet you are wide awake
Tomorrow seems further apart while today is a story of your slumber
A leaf rustles, a bike horns, a cat cries
Golden hues of the day light are arrested in the orange of your drapes
You plot a poem, novella and are waiting for the first word

That. Is when you seek yourself.

Hiraeth

'Hireath' is a word I newly learnt. It means "homesickness for a home to which you cannot return, a home which maybe never was; the nostalgia, the yearning, the grief for the last places of your past".

I just finished reading " The Prophet" by Khalil Gibran. It is one of the most acclaimed literary giant ever written. The reading was an act of mindfulness for me. Those 3-4 hours that I read this book were reflective, contemplative and unencumbered. I am left with such a pleasant sense of being. A certain peace has washed over me. Is it the prose poetry, my most favourite form of literature that affected me? Or was it the effortless philosophy rendered in the most naturally possible simple way?

This reading took me to places of deep conversations I've had with strangers. To the sweet pains of the failures I've had. To the humbling life lessons I've endured. To the lost love and care of close ones. To the bliss I obtained by sharing laughter with children. To the friends who travelled long paths beside me. To the gentle warmth of my beloved and to his irrational ways too. To the irksome thorn of societal conventions, to the callous religion and the tender humanity.

Hireath is the word that I'm left with. This book took me through moments of intense mindful awareness. I cannot say what really stuck me about the book. It just flowed. It's one of those books you read only to realise you've known this all throughout and that the poet/writer gave ink to your thoughts.

Plight of a bibliophile

Due to the pressures of my academic study,work and wedding preparations I did something unthinkable this time! I had willingly decided to not indulge in reading apart from my academic and work related ones. Although there wasn't a dearth of intellectual stimulation (as part of my sociology, curriculum and pedagogy courses I read famous sociologists, linguists and revolutionaries) I felt a nagging void in my life.

So after 2 long months of refraining from reading for pleasure I picked up Gloria Steinem's title 'As if women matter'. This is one of the essential feminist reads that was recommended to me strongly.

It's a delight to loose myself in this book. Bus stand, coffee breaks, bed, loo - I have taken this reading everywhere. But you would then think that this book makes for an excellent read. Frankly, no. It doesn't. I have read better authors who have a balanced approach to delicate matters, who give both the sides of a narration, who keep strong emotions at bay while convincing readers about their theories.

However, I certainly am enjoying responding to a book and engaging with it by employing all my mental faculties. It is a cheap thrill to Google about the greater matters that a book has to offer. Reflecting on one's own life through the lens of the author is a highly desirable act. Gaining new perspectives, analysing one's current mental makeup and accommodating new knowledge is what makes for an exciting learning opportunity.

I can never run away from being what I am- a bibliophile.

Gender equality and safety

As part of my work, I happen to travel to interior villages and not so forward minded taluks. On one such visit when I was delivering a training at Gubbi taluk, I felt threatened in a very long time. For the past few years, I've been blessed with the company of rational and egalitarian individuals. I've revelled in conversations that challenged, refined and pushed me to be a better individual. As a result of these exalted opportunities I've come to strongly believe in a society that celebrates free and equal individuals. But this recent experience violently woke me up from my slumber.

Upon finishing the training, I sat with my team to have lunch. One enthusiastic participant who held respect for me came to serve food to the place where I was sitting with a big vessel. A young fellow in my team discarded the entire scene as one that of patronising a girl. He rashly commented that all those people who complimented and showed respect to me in various trainings (there are about 10+) did so mainly because I was a girl. He felt that people admire me only for me being a girl. In the process, this young villager belittled my expertise in content, public speaking and interpersonal relationship in one single statement. Not only was my pride hurt but I felt extremely inconsequential. There were few others in the team who enthusiastically agreed to this man! This interaction highlights the following facts in villages:
1. After all that a woman does, her gains of the game are associated to society's tender feelings for a girl
2. A woman is expected to fill in the shoes of the stereotypical girl

I still believe there is merit in me being me because:
1. Upon seeing a girl who doesn't fit the traditional roles of a girl, the people will take notice of the progress society is making in gender equality
2. If I deliver good results irrespective of gender, the villagers will have a fine woman role model
3. My gender atypical actions might inspire someone who is trying to break free of gender stereotyping

Women do not highlight such subtle discrimination in their day to day life. A typical reader might now feel that I'm coming out too strongly by stating the above pointers. But I see my role beyond the confines of my job description. I'm not there to just provide guidance to village teachers about curriculum and pedagogy. I see every human as a potential force to alter the mechanism of this world. If my stubbornness to defy stereotypical roles brings about a subtle change, then I believe I like many other people in the world hold a power to influence others. And as Spiderman says "with great power comes great responsibilities". I will not allow any one experience to kill my spirit of achieving equality. I demand equality and thereby hold the responsibility to deliver equality myself.

On the same day I had to halt in the town to deliver one more training the next day. After a tiring visit to the village (35km away from the town. A village with no running tap water, electricity for 1-2 hours of the day, food still cooked on firewood) of the same young man mentioned above, all I wanted was to crash on bed and nourish my tired body with a good night's sleep. The hotel I decided to stay at was a newly constructed, comfortable and clean one. I was immensely grateful for this! But the whole experience was uncomfortable. A male colleague also decided to stay back, although he confessed much later that he did so to ensure my safety. And guess what! I was glad for that gesture since I was the only girl to stay in the entire hotel, which had about four floors and some 10-15 rooms on each floor and my colleague's presence gave a soothing assurance of safety. Where ever I walked that evening in the hotel I had different eyes set on me wondering what exactly I'm doing! When you have so many people looking at you trust me it is not a welcoming feeling outside your home city, in a strange small town.

In my opinion, nobody should  feel unsafe just because of their gender. I might be comfortable walking travelling alone in the cities I've lived in. But it's disheartening to accept that I don't feel safe travelling alone in small towns and villages, particularly at night. Will this condition change? Yes. I'm definitely hopeful of that. Whether that change is going to be one at high speed or at a snail's pace is left for the villagers to decide!

Crippled

There is an attitude commomplace in everybody's mind that "I help others because I want them to grow". This belief was violently shaken and shattered to bits through my journey in Teach For India. I came here thinking that I will put my life to good use for these 2 years of fellowship by uplifting a low income community. I couldn't have been more wrong. That weak thought process in my mind is now crippled for heaven's sake.

The kids I directly taught and those whom I interacted with only on a partial time basis opened up a vista of learning for me. They pushed me to be the best person I could be everyday for every moment. Authenticity of character was demanded at such purity and quality that I had to be on my toes at all points of time. I was tried, tested, teased, mocked, questioned, pushed and transformed all at the same time. Compassion, my biggest weakness was the most required skill on the job. Kindness to self was what killed me but my kids demanded I be kind to myself and them at all times. Goal setting and planning became second nature to me. While in my pre-fellowship phase, I struggled with orderliness and effectiveness, during my fellowship they became the religion I practiced.

I stumbled heavily in my fellowship to find the real value of open and honest communication. I let my strengths and weaknesses be seen naked by strangers, trusted in Seva, rejoiced in giving for I now know that I always receive back in abundance.

The last leg of my fellowship is proving to be just awesome. Winding up everything that I started and chalking out a next step for myself are exciting ways to end the fellowship. If I had any notions about "helping" others then I am glad that I don't hold any such frivolous thoughts anymore. You receive more by helping and hence in true sense you didn't help at all but got helped.

“The Simple Path
Silence is Prayer
Prayer is Faith
Faith is Love
Love is Service
The Fruit of Service is Peace” 
―Mother Teresa

What teaching is at TFI

Today is a day on which my belief, pride and joy about my profession is restored - it is Teachers Day. I would like to add to the celebrations by writing a small reflective post on what it is to be a teacher at Teach For India.

• Achievers quit their high paying jobs to teach. 
• Rich adults lead a lower middle class life out of choice. 
• Teachers spend on kids from their pockets. 
• Fellows ignore fever, cold, headaches, body aches to be in class each day, every day.
• Socially active folks give up on going out and partying. First comes the school and then everything else in life. 
• The conversations always revolve around the kids. 
• These leaders give up on a few personal relationships to just be here to teach. 
• The fellows undergo a substantial, accelerated personal change; their spirituality grows immensely.
• Money becomes the last thing on one's mind. 
• Fellows assess themselves on how well they are able to spread the love rather than how much material wealth they are able to acquire. 
• All stigmas about caste, financial status, religion and language get shattered. 
• One becomes highly reflective about one's actions.

All the above mentioned affairs occur not just once in the duration of fellowship but repeat everyday. I am grateful for getting this opportunity and humbled by all the learning I have had in the past 1.5 years. 

Electrified!!

I have mostly used this blog space to lament on my experience of reading. I have doled out formal reviews of the wonderful books that I've read. And mostly, all this was done in public eye; my blog was very much in the public space through social media, shares in email chains, back links from other bloggers, guest entries, correspondence with the authors etc,. But I have grown beyond that stage. I am going through an immense personal metamorphosis and the blog hasn't been a reflection of that at all. I felt estranged from this passionate lover from the past. I no longer wish to have that estranged relationship with writing. I want to chronicle all the beloved learnings and experiences I face through this blog. It will be a mirror to my self-journey.

I am currently reading Salman Rushdie's "Joseph Anton" and moved by the bare authenticity of the work. To see a book's realization through the creator's eyes is electrifying. As I have a deep connection to books and experiences, I am able to relish in all the details that the author has provided. A book is so much more than just a work of imagination to an author. An author leaves behind his personal self in the pages. A book is a glimpse into his mind. A book is a piece of author's soul left behind for all the posterity to enjoy. I cannot thank enough the book sale, where I bought this book. Lost in the world of education sector, I had temporarily departed from writing although I read many life altering bits. I am connected to my element whenever I am reading.

I am an engineer by training and an educator by choice. But the world of books has a strong calling. I cannot put my finger on what role I will play in the world of books but I just know that I am here to stay.

There is no friend as loyal as a book. - E Hemingway 

Kind to self!

It's been long since I penned down my thoughts. I  recently had a wake up call that I absolutely lack work-life balance. I enjoy my job immensely and in such a scenario, my work has become my life. It is the ideal condition everyone aspires to be in. I am never exhausted mentally and I have the energy to do six days' work at once. Nevertheless I consciously choose to take a step back and relax a bit. I need a respite from workaholic schedule.

Today I was faced with a situation where there was a minor mishap in my work. It occurred due to a combination of faults from 3 people but I had to face the consequences. I was chided by my superior and fell into the guilt trap immediately. My mind was clouded with the self-abnegation. I just couldn't forgive things going on a any path that is less than perfect. I was cruelly judging my preparedness, dedication and capability all at once. It took a colleague's soothing moral support and my own reflection to bounce back into being happy.

What makes it so hard to be kind to self?

• Ego
• High expectations from self
• Societal expectations
• Fear of failure
• Doubts about one's own capability 
• Locus of control lying outside of your mind
• Less energy to stop the penetration of external influences into your mind
• Lack of clarity on one's efforts and the outcome
• Circumstantial pressure
• Self-criticising 

All the above reasons are daunting to tackle at once. But all it takes to overcome them is self-awareness. Being extremely conscious of one's own thoughts and emotions is crucial to practising kindness on self. We find it easy to help a friend at times of distress but to muster the will power to help oneself requires practice, confidence, resilience and grit. High degrees of honesty plays a major rule in accepting mistakes and turning them into learnings. One more underestimated tool for practising kindness on self is humour. Being able to laugh at your mistakes is the most courageous thing to do. Standing up to an enemy (your brain) who knows you very well is outright intimidating. First line of defence is to empathise with self. Then the below cycle follows:

• Take notice of the mistake
• Observe your emotions towards the mistake
• Embrace your weakness
• Be vulnerable and stop playing perfect
• Analyse the growth points
• Do damage control
• SMILE
• Go back to the arena being vulnerable and ready to make another mistake

“Today you are You, that is truer than true. There is no one alive who is Youer than You.” 
― Dr. Seuss

Interesting blogs that I came across

A friend of mine always keeps telling me that reading should be a social thing for adults as well as children. So keeping with her philosophy I am going to share some of the interesting things I recently came across that are worth mentioning.

The blog wander is a site I stumbled upon while browsing FB (funny thing how FB has been the source of some of my very good reads). Five 20 something girls share their views on life, travelling, love, friendship, self identity and lot of other things that really matter to 20 somethings all around the world. Few of my favourite articles are:

• http://wanderonwards.com/2013/12/30/23-things-to-do-instead-of-getting-engaged-before-youre-23/ 
• http://theblogwander.com/2013/12/07/is-beauty-really-skin-deep/
• I am sure you will add your own favourites to this list - keep browsing

My partner and I have this habit of reading about interesting people from all walks of life and we mostly come across mind blowing people and their head turning lives in TED videos. One such amazing person I know about now is Raghava K K from Bangalore, Karnataka. He is a guy who quit schooling at 16 to become a caricature artist and life made him don many more titles such as cartoonist, painter, reformer, celebrity show manger etc. Here are a few of Raghava's videos that will inspire you beyond wits. 

 

Not to mention, Raghava has a very interesting life partner too- an accomplished western classical music composer Netra Srikanth. 

 

New reads,new lessons

Owing to ill health and professional creative writing I had resigned from publishing any article in this blog. It haunted me many nights that I wasn't sharing any of my reviews for the books I read. But it slowly dawned on me that what I missed the most was not sharing the formal book reviews but the stories and learnings I imbibed.

In the past two months I struggled to keep up a living (read job for outsiders) I am madly in love with. I chanced to read quite a few good books:

• Asura - Anand Neelakantan
• How I braved Anu aunty and cofounded a million dolalr company- Varun agarwal
• Jonathan Livingston Seagull - Richard Bach
• The Ugly Duckling - Hans Christian Anderson

Varun's book was a delight for me, a Bangalorean. Any Indian will love this casual book, more so if one happened to be a Bangalorean. This is a story of yet another engineer who "came out" (:P) of the boring rut many Indians get into - life of a techie. He braves many odds against him and becomes a successful entrepreneur. This book is a peek into the lifestyle, language and attitude of a typical Bangalore guy. I was actually impressed by the courage this guy shows in meting out all naysayers from his life and achieving his dream of doing something on his own. 

Asura was a dark shade of Ramayana for me told in the voice of the antagonist - Ravana. There are few books that are not delightful reads in themselves but which make you end up opening a new window of thought. Asura led me to read many of the famous versus in original Valmiki Ramayana and I can now point out so many outright male chauvinistic views in our age old holy classic. It sickened me in a funny way. 

Jonathan Livingston is the dude. This seagull goes above and beyond the normal societal conventions imposed on a seagull and flies away his journey to glory and inner peace. It's a breezy read of 85 odd pages and a quickie when it comes to inspirational books. I got inspired and went out to watch a movie all alone on a weekend! Ha 

The Ugly Duckling is a oh-so-cute kind of children tale that has messages on identity crisis and finding oneself going through a tumultuous journey. An ugly drake is hatched out of an egg warmed by a duck and for the one single fact that he is an ugly misfit he is rejected by many of the other animals. But he ultimately finds out that he is a beautiful swan and thereafter finds peace in his new found identity after a long struggle of trying to fit in all the wrong places. 

A new update in my reading habit is the use of kindle :D although I am using it through an app in my cell phone, it is a welcome change. 

Happy reading :D 

A lovebird's musing!

A blush on my face and my futile efforts to wipe them off from there!
Heeding to the curiosity of people wondering when, why and where?
Do I have to worry about them or even care
When all I should think about is how lucky I am to have him here. 

All the blues vanish into a blossom pink
When he spells love with a lip sync 
Should I ever open my eyes I often think
Lest he vanish again when I blink

- Harsha 

My favourite articles!

On the account of my blog anniversary I want to share a list of articles I wrote that are very dear to me:

• http://harshahappi.blogspot.in/2012/09/harsha-or-happiness-is-aim-of-every.html - My first article
• http://harshahappi.blogspot.in/2012/09/sudha-ajji_22.html - An article that talks about my Mom
• http://harshahappi.blogspot.in/2012/10/not-book-review.html - A rather funny article that came out when my manager was breathing down my neck for a deliverable, heights of my creativity in a testing time
• http://harshahappi.blogspot.in/2012/10/out-of-frying-pan-into-fire.html - An article that won me my first ever online blogging prize
• http://harshahappi.blogspot.in/2012/10/woman-of-content.html - Article that got published in my company newsletter
• http://harshahappi.blogspot.in/2012/11/book-review-happier-at-home.html - Article that came under notice of my favourite author for writing about her book
• http://harshahappi.blogspot.in/2012/12/book-review-steve-jobs.html - A book that blew me away
• http://harshahappi.blogspot.in/2013/02/victory-of-simple-dream.html - An article that brought tears in my bestie's eyes
• http://harshahappi.blogspot.in/2013/03/belated-valentine-thought.html - A writing dedicated to my love
• http://harshahappi.blogspot.in/2013/05/why-teach-for-india.html - The "WHY" of my current life as a fellow

Hope I continue to keep this dear hobby of mine close in spite of the hectic schedule I work in.

Victory of a simple dream

The fine lines around my aging eyes were more pronounced when we laughed the same careless laughter we did a decade ago. When my best friend was next to me, it didn't matter how silly I sounded. My heart was at peace with the serene knowledge that I was at Mysore viewing those palace lanes I longed to walk as a child. The splatter of rain drops complimented the typical neighing laughter of my best buddy. As she animatedly narrated the recent takeover of by her company I couldn't help but admire her journey to this day. I was startled to look at the confident woman sitting next to me who once crumpled down with tension not able to bear the career path she was in.

She dragged me with all might towards her stall in the world famous Dasara exhibition. She couldn't contain her excitement when she wanted me to choose from the intricate, embroidered accessories she owned. I could only marvel at her designs with muted appreciation. Words deserted me when I realized how famous her accessories brand had come to be. Is this the same silly girl who believed circuits and labs were her destiny until one fine day she froze to bed in the morning not able to carry herself into the office? It took her mighty 5 years post-graduation to realize what she truly desired and another 5 years to put together the business she so desperately worked to build strongly. Today people see her business, nay art as an effortless enterprise built over night. But only a couple of us really know what conviction she displayed and what hard work she put in to make her life count. When she was shouting instructions to the buyers to not rush around the counter, the flashes of colors in the beautiful earring I held unknowingly  took me to our graduation days.

Wasn't my bestie the one to come up with the most visually pleasing presentation for an assignment in the environmental subject? This geek who aced every test in our class, built an entire set of costumes, masks and posters for a dance show in our second year. How did I encourage her to indulge more in her artistic activities only to be put down by her lack of interest! Wasn't she stitching all her clothes herself and complimented them with her simple yet innovative embroidery? How did she even think that a life of electronic engineer with it's loss of colors and art, can render a satisfactory career for her interests? She graduated holding a 5th rank in the university and went on to fulfill her dull self imposed work life of an engineer. Even when the boredom in her job gnawed on her happiness from within, she didn't retire to introspect on her deepest desires. To compensate for the missing excitement in her job, she augmented her educational qualification with a post graduation degree in the dreaded electronics field of 'Signals and Systems' because as the conformist society expects that is what intelligent people choose to do. Her inner energy was not wasted in going against the current but letting herself carried away with the current. Loss of the pleasure that arises from creating beauty, pushed her to give away all that she built by 9 years of education and working.

The pride I felt when she decided to quit her current career for something that came natural to her was overwhelming. She started by creating simple designs on her computer (the by-product of her tryst with IT industry was the knowledge of presentation and graphical tools) and gave life to them on the clothes. She opened a boutique with the savings she had and quickly started owning a strong foothold in the local fashion market. Her simplistic designs won her many loyal customers and soon she started designing ethnic clothes for the local fashion events and along came money, recognition and a structured organisation with buzzing employees and clients. In 5 years of her business she has expanded from her 20*30 sq.ft boutique to a three storeyed stitching factory and a lavish boutique in the heart of the city. Recently she acquired an informal family business in a village near Mandya that produces rare accessories made of richly embroidered clothes. She gave industrial touch to the age old techniques and now produces fashion of high demand in the cities. She has taken the women of destitute homes and orphans under her wings and trained them in many of the new designs she has come up with. Today she is responsible for the sustained income of 2500+ underprivileged souls in the Mysore city. Recognizing her growing fame and talent, the Department of Art and Culture of the Karnataka government has paired up with her to revive the lost embroidery skills of the village life around Mysore district.

Speak to her of the further business plans, she lights up with a tinkle in her eyes and gushes out the details of  jewellery design course she has undertaken and how she plans to bring out her own series of gold jewellery designs. The rut and morose life she was leading as a high paid electronics engineer are replaced by the joy of creation and helping people. When once she was tired and irritated by the slightest change in her routine, now she literally jumps at the prospect of doing something new each day, every day. She lights the heart of many people around her with a simple laughter and ample love. She delights by leading a life she is proud of.

Our dream, the desire that is in our soul, did not come out of nowhere. 
Someone placed it there for a reason.
Paulo Coelho 

Mr.Loner

Be yourself. Because everyone else is already taken. 

-Oscar Wilde

The loner

      My recent joy of creation

      Inspiration: Milind Mulick