Girl , Interrupted ..

No, am not talking about the junkie Angelina Jolie plays in the above titled movie. Am talking about a more real-life heroine - ahem - me.

Let me not hog all the lime light - its about us all - all happily-married-moms-of-two-kids girl folks.
So, here we were, the darlings of our dads (and moms too) , brought up uninhibited - happy to pursue our own thing. Whatever we chose, studies, career, life partner - was supported. Well, they trusted their daughters to do the right thing :)
We were the girls - just like the boys of our age.
We went on trips, we ate in restaurants, we watched movies. We played indoor games, outdoor games. We swam. We cycled.  We biked. We hiked. We drove cars. We had sleepovers. We laughed hard. We cried our eyes out. We sang, We danced. We shopped. We volunteered . We  soaked in rain. We tanned in the sun. We studied hard. We excelled at schools and universities.

Life was a whirlwind, a flow from one stream to another. Gushing, gasping, frothing, bubbling away.

And now, how is it now? Are we sad? Are we unhappy? No, we are not!
But are we flowing? Are we gushing, gasping - crusading un-interrupted? No, we are not!
Now some are like calm lakes  - still, cool, deep. Happy with the lotuses growing in. Supporting an ecosystem unnoticed. Happy with the reflections of the trees and mountains and the skies.
And some are even stagnant puddles - dark, dull, muddled. Nothing to show, nothing to reflect. No stimulation from inside, and none from outside.

Where are the girls gone? Where is the laughter, the spirit?
Here they are, all grown - all turning into women. What happened? and why?

Are these the same girls? Yes they are, but they are the Girls - Interrupted!

Back To Work

Times Of India has started a story writing competition, panning over 11 months. Each month a published author will give a theme in the form of a paragraph.Contestants are to spin a story around that. You can read more about it at 'Write India Campaign'.

I wrote one for the September contest.
The paragraph was by Ashwin Sanghi. This is how it read.

'I observed him carefully as he walked to the door. I knew that time was running out but suppressed the urge to check my watch. I took a deep breath and started counting in reverse under my breath. "Ten, nine, eight, seven...". '


And this the story I spun around it.

" BACK TO WORK "

It had been about four months. Going back to the same office where I worked for the past 3 years still felt strange. Even alien at times.
People were polite, but cautious. Their courtesy suppressed their impatience. Or may be it was just my imagination. These things happen. They are bound to happen. I some times reasoned with my unsure mind, some times reprimanded the impatient brute.
My mind worked strangely these days. It was always busy thinking about him. It played the same images again and again. Some times it made me smile. Some times it made me chuckle out loud. I drew strange looks from my colleagues then. Some times it made me grab my phone and rush out for a call. And it made me tap my feet or drum my fingers in the middle of a meeting - letting every one know that I longed it to be over.
"Is this how things are going to be from now on? " I asked Maya, my senior colleague and now designated agony aunt.
"May be. May be not. Once this happens, life is never the same." she replied with a knowing smile.
I sighed. I was good at my job. At least I was, till now. But now everything seemed changed from the time I was away. It was ruffled and rattled.
I felt like I had been thrown into rough waters and I was struggling to recall how to swim. Was it the hands first? Or the legs? Or was it together? And when do I breathe? Now? Later? Or everything at once?
Can't I just float? Just be like a log? I was so tiered already.

I tried to shut my mind off. I stared at the computer screen.
I was suddenly aware of the small box flashing there. '3 minutes overdue' it said.
I dismissed the  reminder and reached out for the phone.
I waited as it rang. And rang some more. Panic started creeping in - slowly, very slowly. And a hint of anger just mixed in.
What is she doing? Where is she? Why isn't she picking the phone?
I wondered where he was. Is he with her? Or is he sleeping?
Suddenly I heard her voice on the other end of the phone. She was in the kitchen, she said.
"He ate, and he is sleeping. He is fine."
"Anything new?" I eagerly asked.
"No. But don't worry."
I hung up after a bit of small talk.
"Yes I had lunch. You eat. Ok. Bye."
What did she mean by don't worry? Should I be worrying? Does everyone start worrying by now?
11 months is not very late. But not very early either.

There were about 15 messages from Jayesh. Half of them were just hearts and roses. I smiled. He never forgets to send these. Five years is not such a long time after all. May be, everything does not change completely as Maya had said. I opened the calendar and clicked around aimlessly the date three weeks from now. Three more weeks. That's a long time. He should travel less. Isn't he missing so many things? I made a note to myself to discuss this with him once he was back.

"I will be working from home tomorrow". I mentioned as I picked my bag to leave. I tried not to sound apologetic.
Maya smiled. "Sure.Everything al right at home?"
"Yes. Regular doctor's visit. Jayesh isn't back yet, so have to go on my own this time."
I knew I won't be in for the rest of the week. A day at home and my resolve melted - I wish I was at home always.
I felt guilty. Didn't I always assure myself that work won't suffer?
A moment later defiance flashed within. Things have changed. They should support this phase. All employers should.
Why am I left feeling guilty? I shouldn't. And I won't.

As I cleared the dinner table, I watched them from the corner of my eye. She looked tiered. I noticed the slight limp as she walked across the room.
He sat on the floor with his legs stretched before him. He pointed to something under the sofa and screamed for it.
Before I could reach there, she laboriously bent forward, clutching her left knee.
"He always wants this one." she smiled.
I watched as they sat on the floor rug together.
Did he notice me? Does he even want me?
Again the familiar guilt crept in. She is old. May be she should not be doing this. He needs me. What am I doing?

"It's a day trip. The whole team is going. What do you say?" my colleague asked.
I smiled politely. The offsite event was a week away. May be I will go.
"I will let you know." I said. My colleague nodded knowingly. Or did I just imagine he did?
A whole day away? How can she manage?
I always enjoyed team outings. Everybody seemed to come out of their shells.
Everyone transformed into normal human beings as the armours of titles were cast away.They spoke freely and laughed loudly.
It would be good. I can mend a few broken bridges if I can go along.

"I am logging in from home today. She is not feeling very well. Same knee pain. And I can't join for the trip. Sorry." I told my manager, and hung up.
I resented her. Why me? Why now? I wonder what they all are doing. She is done, they must be saying. I can't believe I missed it.

I dragged myself to work that Friday. A whole week at office. And so much work done. I think the week had gone well. Am back in the game! I smiled smugly to myself.Can't wait for the weekend. Just then the phone beeped. She had sent a video clip. My smile vanished.

I played the video clip once more, probably for the 100th time now. He looked so small, so vulnerable. On all his fours, face going red with effort. He won't give up. He just won't. Tottering on three limbs, he lifted one hand to grab the chair near him. He pulled himself up and clung to the side. He turned towards the camera and smiled.I could hear her clap and cheer. I couldn't see her. I wanted to be there. I wanted to be her. I could feel jealousy rising up in my stomach, I could almost taste it in my mouth. Why aren't there two of me? One here in the office and one there at home?

"Hummmm.." I said absent mindedly.
"Are you there? Are you listening? " Jayesh asked at the other end of the phone.
"Yeah. Look, am exhausted. I think I will sleep. Aren't you getting late for office? Do text me your flight details." I said.
I closed my eyes. I could feel tears welling up. Why am I crying? What is wrong?
I woke up with a sore throat. Another sick leave. I switched on the kettle and waited for the water to boil.
For once, I didn't feel guilty to be home. I was home for a valid reason. For a real reason.
Many people fall sick , many people apply for a sick leave. This was no special case. I was taking off just like any other colleague of mine.
Strangely, I felt equal to them. Tomorrow I will login from home, but today was my day off, for myself.

I observed him carefully as he walked to the door. I knew that time was running out but suppressed the urge to check my watch. I took a deep breath and started counting in reverse under my breath. "Ten, nine, eight, seven...".
A few more steps and he will reach the door. Though I was working from home,I had to get into this call. But my phone camera was recording every little move. Hidden,un-noticed. He should not see it. Not now.
'six, five four...' God ! Oh God! Please. Please.
He stumbled. I almost gasped. I skipped a heartbeat. Just a few more steps.
'...three, two, one!'. Yes, Yes! He did it. He held the door and turned back to smile at me.
"Aaaannnnd Cut !! Daddy, your little boy has started walking!!!! You missed it , but I didn't !!" I smiled and spoke into the camera, and then stopped the recording. Wait till Jayesh sees this one - hah!
I rushed and gathered my baby in my arms. I kissed his hair and hugged him closer. We did a little jig together.
"Look Grandma - who just walked all by himself! 5 whole steps. From here till the door!" I called out to my mother in law.
She walked into the room and smiled. I beamed at her.
"Not even a year old yet, and already walking. How much more will your old grandma run after you? " her words dripped with unconcealed pride.
Grandparents! I shook my head in mock exasperation.

"I need to get back to work. Please take him." I handed him over to her, and closed the door behind me, ready to take the office call.

Invictus

I watched Invictus starring Morgan Freeman (as Mandela) and Matt Damon (as) on a flight I was on. The movie is directed by Clint Eastwood. Am a fan of all three of the above mentioned guys, so I quite enjoyed the movie. It is based on the events around 1995 Rugby World Cup in South Africa, around the time apartheid was dismantled and Nelson Mandela was the first black President of South Africa. Springboks, the rugby union team of South Africa, is an all white team, except for one black player. Post-apartheid, there is a strong racial under current between blacks and whites, and the blacks don't look at Springboks as their national team, and don't support it. Mandela wants to change this, and wants the team to have full nation's support - making a World Cup victory the point to unite and inspire black and white sentiments as one nation. He gets in touch with Francois Pienaar, the captain of Springboks, and expresses his wish that they win the World Cup. He shares a poem called Invictus with Francois, and tells him that this poem inspired him for 27 years in the prison and continues to inspire him today.

In the movie, Francois takes his team to the prison where Mandela spent his first 18 years of the 27 year term. He marvels at the fact that in such a tiny cell, a man could be unbroken for 27 years, and still come out to forgive the people who put him there. It fills him with determination, and he drives the team to an improbable victory.

Below is the poem


Invictus
By William Ernest Henley

Out of the night that covers me,
Black as the pit from pole to pole,
I thank whatever gods may be
For my unconquerable soul.

In the fell clutch of circumstance
I have not winced nor cried aloud.
Under the bludgeonings of chance
My head is bloody, but unbowed.

Beyond this place of wrath and tears
Looms but the Horror of the shade,
And yet the menace of the years
Finds, and shall find me, unafraid.

It matters not how strait the gate,
How charged with punishments the scroll,
I am the master of my fate:
I am the captain of my soul.

Still Alice and Alzheimers

I watched the movie Still Alice on my flight to Melbourne.
This particular speech in one of the scene moved me to tears. Sharing it here.
Every spoke word rings true.
I cannot imagine how life can be for someone who knows what lies in front of them as Alzheimers progresses.


The Poet, Elizabeth Bishop, once wrote:

"The art of losing isn't hard to master..."
"so many things seem filled with the
intent to be lost..."
"that their loss is no disaster".

I am not a poet. I'm a person living with Early Onset Alzheimers.
And as that person, I find myself learning the art of losing... every day. Losing my bearings, losing objects...losing sleep, but mostly...losing memories. 
All my life, I've accumulated memories. They've become in a way, my most precious possessions. The night I met my husband...the first time I held my texbook in my hands...having children... making friends...travelling the world.
Everything I've accumulated in life,everything I've worked so hard for...now all that is being ripped away. As you can imagine, or as you know, this is hell.
But it gets worse.
Who can take us seriously when we are so far from who we once were.
Our strange behavior and fumbled sentences...change others perceptions of us...and our perception of ourselves.
We become ridiculous... incapable...comic.
But this is not who we are.
This is our disease.
And like any disease, it has a cause...it has a progression, and it could have a cure.
My greatest wish, is that my children...Our children, the next generation...do not have to face what I am facing.
But for the time being I'm still alive. I know I'm alive.
I have people I love dearly. I have things I want to do with my life. I rail against myself for not being able
to remember this.
But I still have moments in the day of pure happiness and joy.
And please do not think that I am suffering.
I am not suffering. I am struggling. Struggling to be a part of things.
To stay connected to who I once was. 
So live in the moment I tell myself.
It's really all I can do.
Live in the moment.
And not beat myself up to much.
And not...beat myself up too much for mastering the art of losing.
One thing I will try to hold onto though, is the memory of speaking here today.
It will go... I know it will... it may be gone by tomorrow.
But it means so much...to be talking here, today....like my old ambitious self who was so fascinated by communication.
Thank you for this opportunity.
It means the world to me.
Thank you.

After a Long Time

I have started another blog Many-Minded Me - which is a sort of a diary I am keeping.
I have embarked upon a 'Yell Free' journey and am chronicling the days as I try to yell less at my kids and family and be more patient, one day at a time.

Through this I also want to keep this blog active, with  other musings from day to day.

Like today, on my cab ride to office, i got chatting with the cab driver. He described how he sticks to an 8 hour day for his heath's sake. "Too much pollution, smoke, diesel, dirt "he said. "And people are always angry when they are in traffic, it spoils my day and it will spoil my health " he added.

He rued about some areas not adhering to the green belt option and allowing too much of construction. " No roads, no signals - but new houses are coming, new offices are coming. Where will their cars and scooters run? On same roads! The first make roads bigger, then make more offices - simple no? " he asked.
"I was an auto driver earlier, and always worked near railway stations. Easy to get fare there. But the traffic is too much. Now I have my own A/C car, from past 6 months am very happy" he confided.

As we drove through a huge premise still partially under construction , he pointed to a few tankers and said  " people build houses with lakhs of rupees, and then they buy water from tankers for their daily needs. Bisleri for everything . But where is natural? No natural. All natural destroyed by builders."
His idea of progress was simple - "people should be happy, nature should be happy. So many floods, droughts, earthquakes - nature is showing its anger. We should slow down till there is a balance ".

We reached office by that time and he said his goodbyes. But the wisdom coming from him set me thinking, if every man or woman cared their little bit for nature, may be we will leave a better world for our kids.