Archive for the ‘My experince’ Category

The blue mist- A year that was…. is and will be   2 comments

What the caterpillar calls the end of the world, the master calls a butterfly- Richard Bach

What some call the end of another year; some call it a new beginning

Flash back and forward

Having walked 364 days and now standing at the end of the calendar I turn back and reminisce and look back at the various emotions felt through the year. Not events, emotions. Events in life are meaningless if we do not feel any emotion around them. All this stirred in me for two reasons. One which is more glaring and obvious- we are at year closing and we dedicate this time to look back and hopefully have some smiles some tears and look forward with a silent secret wish that the coming year will bring a renewed hope of happiness. Somehow we believe that the minute a digit on the year changes, something will change. Wish we could all have these renewed hopes every time a digit on the date is changed. Somehow, change in year is of more significance to most of us. Guess it’s a rarer occasion and a daily occurrence makes a change in date attenuate

The second reason being what emotions came to me as I watched the news a couple of days back. I came across an interview of Sanya Mirza, who has been on a winning streak of lately. In the interview she spoke about this year being a good year for her. It’s lovely to hear when someone can say that with a smile and nostalgia. That sentence however got the machinery connecting my heart and head moving. And I realised it’s a statement I would not say for any year of my life. At least none that came to mind instantaneously. Did I not cherish all that I had achieved or did it not matter? Was there no particular year that could be engraved in my memory? This cogitate was accompanied with a twinge of sadness. Its then that I had a eureka moment. Almost immediately I realised something meaningful. Though I may not be able to say in an instant about a good year I could not even point to the other end of the spectrum, a bad year of my life. And for that I am thankful. There was no epoch of my life where I could say that life took a turn. I realised that I am a person who lives her life in the balance of things. Nothing is extreme for me. No emotion or situation is definitive. Just the way Gary, George and Matt don’t get enough of the sentence “It’s the balance of flavours that matters in dishes you cook” This is a balance of flavours of life. So as the projector of my life’s film goes on in my head, year after year, I reminisce some sweet some sour moments with the attention spearing towards times which I would could point and say ecstatic or non-ecstatic

And hence this year gone by became another year with few memories to cherish and some perishable hopefully some lessons learnt and some changes made and above all some moments to be grateful for. In all an eventful year with an array of emotions to fill in the memory bank

This piece would be incomplete without due respect given to the coming year. I do not have temerity to ignore 2016 and the renewed hope in our hearts. Looking forward to experience the realisation of our dreams and add to the existing memory bank with various emotions

Creating and wiping a portion of the slate clean for 2016 to write a new story, a new chapter. In anticipation…..

The future is better than the past

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Posted December 31, 2015 by nidhi khanna in My experince

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Liberation in a cell-experience is a brutal teacher, but you learn   Leave a comment

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We’re all sentenced to solitary confinement inside our own skins, for life

I’ve lived my entire life on my own terms. At an early age I was taught to make my decisions. And take responsibility of those decisions, in its aftermath. If I don’t want to live by the rules of the society, it’s my decision. Up until now I have been an unconventional person, living a life which does not even come to being a cliché. And that was my decision and the aftermath of the decision mine. Of course I was not born liked this. Situations made me like this.

That’s what my parents taught me. So if I say that I am a person of my own mind that would be accurate. And yet it was as far from the truth as it could be. Not that I pretended all along. I didn’t know it all along. That’s the blind spot of my life, until something changed

Now, having been an adult most of my life I asked my childhood friend “what have I achieved in life”. She had no answer or may be that was her answer. “Go for vipasana” I blindly agreed with the hope of magic and secretly hoping that I had the option to cancel last minute. The last minute cancellation never happened

So here I was at the center for what was a 10 day course. A lot of people thought I would be able to do it. A few thought I should come back in case I can’t handle it. I was advised questioned as to how I would stay silent for 10 days, live on vegetarian diet without an occasional drink or a book or newspaper, considering I do like my regular dose of current affairs and human interactions. Above all, the dilemma for others was, how would I live entirely detached? No one lives in your head and hence no one knows what you really are going through and what you are capable of. Truth is, “things to be done need to be done, not justified for they never will be” What I wanted was exactly what others thought I could not do. Leading an unconventional life is not simple. And I have my share of oscillations. At the point which I felt was a special low in my life I wanted to escape. I wanted to get away and see what something like vipasana could offer. Of course the search as for most of us is some peace, some awareness some calm and loads of magic. I needed magic!

I was ignorant to the world of vipassana, and did not even know how to meditate. But yes, I was willing to have something written on the blank canvas of my mind, even if it was just graffiti. I did want to know how something like viapsana and its teaching could help me improve the quality of my real practical life and would it really apply in the rough outside world, but I was ready to find out

Changing myself was like a Sisyphean, but I was not about to accept that

The prettiest part of this experience was in the unknown. As the days progressed and things began to unfurl, we slowly moved on various levels of the technique called meditation or vipassana. Starting simple moving on to a level which metamorphosis every pore of an individual

It was the moment of my clearest thought. It was liberation in one and a half feet by three feet cell with nothing but raw unpainted walls. As I sat there meditating for the allocated hour, I realised the existence of life somewhere far way via the chirping of birds. Staying in a city like Bombay, one tends to miss these nuances. As the hour progressed, something stirred in me. I was acutely aware of every sensation that I felt, emotionally and physically. I tried to shrug away the unknown feeling. Aspects of life and its learning became profound. Everything that I had heard and learnt all my life now showed me a dimension of vision I was missing. Since childhood I had issues with anger which stayed with me as I grew older. The minute I was not in a happy place my reaction to most things became anger and irritation. This was not reactive, since I was acutely aware; it was ultimately my Achilles heel. There is no witness so dreadful, no accuser as terrible as the conscience that dwells in the heart of every human- Polybiuus. I just did not know how to change this about me and what emotion I could turn to instead of anger. All along I was looking for a replacement of feeling and feeling responsible for it. However life was not only about making those decisions and facing the aftermath. It was about feeling every feeling and then living with it instead of battling and craving to feel another feel. We are addicted to certain feelings and are averse to a few. That is all that contributes to the unrest of our minds. In what seemed like an avalanche in my mind it felt as if every pore in my body was torn open and something extremely dark, polluted and heavy was exonerated, suddenly leaving me light as I had never felt. There was a sudden calm inside me I did not know existed. It was like an exorcism of the mind and body leaving behind calm in which there was an awareness of all senses. It was a tectonic shift within me. Everything was awake! That minute I knew I had changed forever

Accepting is as simple as it sounds

It doesn’t take a lot of strength to hang on. It takes a lot of strength to let go and I was ready to let go

I was ready to take life as it was. Deal with the emotions as they were. I had realised that what lies in our past and what lies in our future is minuscule compared to what lies within us

On my return and back into my routine life I realised I was ready to let karma take some responsibility. I started to not only believe in what Wayne Dyer said but also imbibe it “How people treat you is their karma, how you react is yours” and I did not want karma doing a full circle on me

Don’t run away from pain, walk through it

This journey was like the journey of life. Beginnings are usually scary and endings are usually sad, but it’s everything in between that makes it all worth living. I was scared and I was sad it ended but everything that I got in those days was worth a lifetime!

Nothing like present to turn a new leaf

Kintsukuroi- Golden repair The art of repairing broken pottery   Leave a comment

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Kintsukuroi- Golden repair

The art of repairing broken pottery

Heart and its beats- from the outside

I read a book a couple of days back in which the author described an out of the body experience. Reading that made me think of how we almost always look at situations and things outward and not inward. Also, having experienced it myself at one point in my life made me think of this in a slightly different perspective

I am going to look at something which is within me from the outside and see what I see. Sitting protectively and cuddled in the arms of rib cage. The heart!The heart is graphically represented very differently from what it actually looks like. Juxtaposed to reality, we love changing its shape while we draw it red in colour with an arrow piercing through it. When it looks nothing like that, with a soft pink colour around it connected via major arteries having huge responsibilities towards the entire body. All this, while sitting lopsided in the rib cage. There are various theories about the graphical representation of the heart but that’s a paradox for another time

In all it’s an important organ which rules our life, physically as well as emotionally

Physically, it is the single most important organ that keeps us breathing. It tells us that we are alive. Emotionally, it takes the lead in deciding for us at all stages of our life and in all relations. It takes the burden and beating of those decisions. As we grow we become acutely aware of the abilities and capabilities of our heart. We crown it with being solely responsible for all the feelings we feel. Weather they are happy or a sad or nothing at all

Today when I step out of my body and cradle my heart in my hand instead of the rib cage it’s accustomed to, I am supposed to see what I see. I would imagine that I would see a perfectly healthy heart with a smooth pink covering the four ventricles, the arteries et cetera. But instead I see something disheveled which look like a bandaged sieve. This is not what I had learnt in my biology class in school. This is also much juxtaposed from the so called real pictures. I wonder why my heart looks like a bandaged sieve. This condition of my heart tore everything inside of me, all through the core of my body. And I did not know how to react. I experienced a new low in my life;a level which I did not know existed

A large number of these wounds were covered with band aid to stop their presence from being constantly felt. I held my heart tenderly, starring at it for a while and decided the best thing to do was to put it back in the not so safe rib cage. Just as I was about to do that a thought crossed my mind. I wanted to see what was under the band aids. If there was a chance I could see where they came from. I started ripping the band aid, one at a time. I should not have. The first wound sprouted like a faucet of blood. I dint try to stop it. I could not stop it. I was too numb for any reaction. It sent me spiraling down memory lane to the time when this wound had taken a permanent place in my heart. Some memories need to be forgotten. This certainly was and ripping the band aid bought back all the memories associated with this wound. The pain was so numbing that crying would have seemed like ecstasy. Sometimes tears are just not enough and this was one such instance

As I continue to rip the band aids I realised something unnerving. These were piercings which were made by the people in my life, all of who were close to me. My confidants. Every piercing left behind wound that did not go away. Some were light scars, some were deep wounds and even though they were dated way past in my life, they felt like as fresh as now. The pain had not subsided. When I looked at such wounds they still had the capacity to expel the air from every pore of me. I had thought I was over these instances. But in reality all I was doing was applying anesthesia by ignoring them and concentrating on frivolous things in life. Is this my survival instinct or escapism?

Every hurt, every pain, every shenanigan, every betrayal given to me left a wound on my heart.Some were self-inflicted too. Every moment of life in which my heart hurt, was embossed, may be for life. At least most of them were. Suddenly nostalgia was not what it used to be to me and I began to wonder the reason of my existence and reason for my life. Was it all about the suffering? Was this that was meant to be and how it was supposed to be? Is this how things end? Since I didn’t have an answer to those zillions of thunderbolt questions nor a solution the only thing left was to put my heart back in its place and forget it existed and go back to ignoring it- ignoring what it felt, ignoring what it said. An art I had championed in the course of my life. There are some haunting memories that refuse to die their own death, driving us towards our own insanity

I wonder if I had situs inverses my heart would not have been the sieve it is today and people would miss the mark

The truth is that we hurt most when people we love most hurt us, leaving scars that go with us to the grave. And most often it is about betrayal and then survival

Just when I thought that was my only option a thought crossed my mind. Buzzinga!! The band aids. What about all the band aids carefully placed on each of the wounds, which ensured that there was no constant reminder of scars. Where did these band aids come from? As I sat thinking back in time I realised something beautiful. For every wound given there was someone that reduced the pain and increased endurance. Every individual that left a band aid was trying to make my life easier and happier leaving me stronger

Life is all about choices, some we make some are made for us. In the end what is served to us is the residual of our choices. This auto bend of my mind’s eye makes me choose the soothing sensation of the band aid

This is the reason for survival of life. Logotherapy- every life has a meaning

Our survival depends on a lot of things, people, relations, our love, support system and a whole lot more. Ask a child and they say, because my heart beats. Wish that is all the heart did. As we grow older our heart beats start taking a lot of beating. Mine did too. But it also got a disproportionate amount of pampering it needed to heal and overcome the hurt dished out to me. It was not in ignoring that I experienced the anesthesia, it was in the love, support and care that made it all worth the while. Sometimes from the same people who were the owners of those wounds and sometimes from different

So my heart even though hurt was also bandaged. So why is it that I was scared to listen and feel the feelings my heart had? There is no better time to change and accept all feelings with grace and let them pass

In the end, all I can say is “find a place inside you that makes you happy. Visit it every time you feel pain”

Today. The day that was!   Leave a comment

Every morning when we wake up, for most of us a thought crosses our mind. What’s the day going to be like? What are we going to do today and what’s the plan? My plan today was simple. Simple, but not easy. I was going to execute a decision which I had been contemplating for over a month now. The today was intended to be not so ordinary. And the things were not so pretty things or happy. Even though we all have an idea or perception of how the day will pan out, the reality often that we face is totally different. Premonition of reality is just a delusion. Well mostly. As today was one such day

I did nothing that I envisaged. Did not clear the clutter from my life and yet the day was, as one could call it a smile. There was nothing was special or out of ordinary that prevented my decision nor anything extraordinary. And yet it was day… a smile. A smile that lingers on your lips when you lie in the darkness and bid goodnight to the world.  You know it’s a nice day when you go to sleep peacefully. With a clear head and nothing to worry about

And just as I do that, I flashback on the day that in this moment becomes the day that was. It becomes a yesterday

So my yesterday was spent with the usual platitudinous work. Along with that getting some good news and going totally crazy sharing some giggles with a cousin and some laughs with a colleague turned friend. Being a Wednesday making a plan, as always for some chicken biryani with another. Though that plan didn’t work out a movie called masaan did get my evening. A movie which seemed like a snippet straight out of someone’s life. It was a simple movie with some painful moments, some moments which put a slight ache in your heart. The movie depicted how even a stranger capitalizes on another’s fear. The more one fears someone or something, the more one gets pushed into a corner. How it all sounds like a story of so many life’s! Mine most certainly, well at least at this point. And sometimes there is no redemption for the supressee as in this movie. But the subtlety in which Motwane and  Kashyap have shown the possibility of life coming a full circle for the suppressor is commendable

But in all, it was a movie with hope. Hope that even when all is lost it actually is not. It was a movie which showed that there is light at the end of the tunnel even in adversity. It brings with it the possibility of hope even when all it lost. And moving on when all is lost. It’s sometimes important to lose to gain and that’s the step. A start. It sometimes seems like a juxtaposed situation but then all we need to do is wait for the hindsight vision to come into focus. That clears all illusions

Hope is a big thing and so is moving on. And that’s the headline. And that’s how it all ends. Well at least the day that was. Yesterday today

The future is better than the past

Posted August 6, 2015 by nidhi khanna in My experince

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A tap on the shoulder   Leave a comment

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Accidents happen in a heartbeat, in a single flash, a throbbing moment

I am going to initiate this with a cliché. Bombay; a city of dreams.  That statement has been said septillion times and still does not sound insipid. A city so bipolar in nature that it harbours the Queen’s necklace and Dharavi, the Worli sea link and Golibar; having a portable cigarette store to a mall like High Street Phoenix, it’s all in its heart. It’s a city where people travelling in suave cars sometimes take longer to reach their destination versus the people walking the streets. That is Bombay

And yes… I call it Bombay

It’s a “go to city”. A city that people come to make a life, build a career. Most of them manage to achieve their dreams, but sometimes in all this they lose themselves. People come to Bombay city from small and big towns alike, with a common thread of dreams in heart. They dream to make it big. Some make it big some manage a survival and some more than that

This city is multifaceted, bipolar. But the one thing this city lacks is in the variety of seasons. The only season change Bombay ever sees is hot, less hot and then the most awaited and generally avalanche of monsoon. What is mentioned below is just one such day….

Bombay city…. A scene straight out from the diary of a rainy day

Rains light up Bombay city. The freshness. The smell of wet mud. The traffic snarls. The indignified potholes. The sudden sparkle. The shine the blaring horns. The multi-coloured range of umbrellas. The thundering. The beautiful and calm grey sky. And above this all the sudden romance in the air… it’s all the result of the avalanche called Bombay rains

It was one such a rainy evening. One of the initial showers that my city experienced.  The initial shower also brings with it the unpreparedness for Bombayaites. On a “business as usual” day everything becomes different with a special mention to the evening traffic, which comes to an expected stand still. And if we are lucky, it would be a tortoise’s pace

This evening was no different and there was no dearth of traffic on the roads. I slowly edged towards the fluctuating and sometimes meaningless signal light with the hope of managing to beat the red colour every time I saw the green. However reality sometimes has nothing to do with hope and wishful thinking

I let the clock tick sometimes by just twiddling my fingers on the steering wheel of my car or sometimes humming and sometimes going ballistic with the music playing from the collection of the close to 200 songs from various genres. But mostly I looked out and enjoyed the site of rain drops on this crowded street. As I did this, I noticed the person on the bike in front of me. He sat on his motorcycle in that downpour, wearing a jacket while waiting for his turn against the odds of the red signal to turn green. He juggled from one foot to another as he balanced his motorcycle while the rain busily feel on his broad shoulders, which did not seem to be of any worry to him. Juxtaposed, he seemed to be enjoying it. Occasionally looking up, not to see the patter of rain drops, but the newly launched metro that was running overhead every three minutes

Unlike him she was dark and lean with a smooth skin, not even close to being rugose, she stood at the corner of the road. Her rain drenched hair falling almost to her right bare shoulder. She was prudent. She looked at her signal and waited for it to glow the green man. Her eyes were expressive and large. They evidently had multiple stories to tell. Wonder if there were any takers to listen to her story. As she waited patiently with her bag held close to her chest, suddenly the red man vanished and gave way to green. As this happened she carefully started to cross the road in front of the hefty biker, who was still awaiting his turn. As she crossed him he juggled his bike to the other foot and adjusting his jacket his hand brushed her shoulder accidently almost like a tap. She turned her large eyes towards him; now fear in them out of the sudden touch and doubting his intent at the physical contact. He seemed to apologise with a nod and she slowed her pace until she almost stopped to stare at him. Evoked by this reaction he reached for his wallet and removed a twenty rupee and handed it over her. She gratefully took that piece of paper which evidently was of higher value to her than to him. The look in her eyes was more of gratitude now. He nodded again as his signal changed colour and put his bike in gear and crossed the signal to inch closer to his destination while she crossed the road and walked to what may be construed as either her temporary or permanent destination and sat under the depleted building which currently sheltered her from the pouring rain

The ephemeral interaction between the two may not be remembered in the next moment, but in my mind it raised a question- does a tap on a shoulder mean anything at all? Does a human interacting with another have a prewritten destiny and fate or it is construed as just another interaction with no repercussion or influence in our being

Was this just an incident that occurred on a rainy day in Bombay or something else??

My personal belief is in a theory of moments and it goes such- who we are and what we are is defined by small incidences that occur in our life, people that touch us in our life span. We are like molecules and these moments our atoms

We all take away something unique from all such moments and I did

“Everything you can imagine is real”- Pablo Picasso

Posted September 29, 2014 by nidhi khanna in My experince

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