Back Attack

I put my back out for no particular reason other than a desire to wear socks this morning. As the tell-tale pain crept down my spine, I sighed irritably. I knew the symptoms of my finicky lower back. I also knew that the pain though mild now would get worse before it got better and if I so much as lifted a water bottle I would feel that lance of pain stronger than ever. So I gently took my hungry self downstairs and just sat uselessly. S had to deal with breakfast and sending Mahi off.

He then cleared out a cot and spread a mat on it and made me lie on that so that my back would ease itself out. I did as instructed but soon got bored. I looked at the unmade beds. I listed out in my mind the things I had to do but couldn’t.  I was literally twitching in frustration. And then I decided to let it be. I let the sun streaming from the window warm me as settled in with a book in the position I found to be least painful. I was soon lost in the simple story and relaxed quite naturally. Appu came to check on me. He massaged my head thinking that that was the key to solving all problems. He also got me a bottle of water and climbed on the cot for a hug and a cuddle. The kid has so much empathy it amazes me.

S and Appu left for the centre and to run errands. S insisted on telling me clearly to not take a shower till he was back so that he could help if need be. I nodded meekly enough but had no intention of listening to all of that. So I waited till they left and managed to walk infinitely slowly to the shower and douse myself in enough hot water to parboil my poor back but it did leave me feeling much better. I then steam ironed my clothes even though all I would be doing was lying down. I hate being shabby even if I am merely lounging about the house. My partner Aks usually makes fun of me by asking if I look impeccably ironed even when asleep and I tell her of course I do – it’s the way I am!

I managed to keep myself from doing anything much the rest of the day. I needed to be sure to not miss work at the centre the next day. It was a new feeling to get so pampered. The kids were vying with each other to bring me little snacks and they kept checking to see if I needed anything. I felt so touched.  My little ones have grown up and they are acting more responsible than I ever believed they would.  

As the day draws to a close and I get back to my laptop for a little while because it is really too tempting to not get some work done, I realize that a day off occasionally is not too bad to take. I have confidence in my kids now – they can manage even when their mom is not at her best – such a reassuring feeling.

 Just before I get to bed I see that S has ironed the clothes the kids have to wear the next day since he was off on a business trip and wouldn’t be around to lend a hand. The sight of the clothes kept ready so that I would be spared one task moved me like nothing else. True, my husband was not one for showing his affection too much but in so many small unpretentious ways he left the signs of his care – not to be thanked but just to make us feel that he would always be there even for the little things. Sometimes it takes a bad back and a view of the ceiling to make you see things in a clearer light ….

Being grateful...

Some days I am filled with an inordinate sense of gratitude. The feeling comes about naturally on certain occasions but some of the time it needs more than a gentle reminder. If you think about it, most of us have plenty to be grateful about. Most of us are reasonable healthy individuals with some ability to earn enough to meet our basic requirements. Provided we live in an environment that does not curtail personal freedom, we can go after whatever it is that we think will enrich our lives. Most of us therefore, have absolutely no right to feel ungrateful for life and the blessings it brings.

I have been prone to place conditions on happiness and gratitude. I postpone those feelings because for me everything is conditional on my son progressing or gaining in learning or mastering skills or any such achievement. I forget to be happy about the support that I get from well-meaning friends and family. I forget to be grateful that I have the health and will to fight for my child and others like him. I forget to be thankful for the ability to be creative and to write down words that just might touch another’s heart and bring joy or hope.

Then I see a video of a woman who is supposedly the world’s ugliest. She is 24 years old and weighs a mere 64 pounds. She suffers from some rare syndrome since birth. She has the most amazing parents who tell her that she is beautiful and strong and nothing should hold her back. Despite an illness that would have debilitated another, she managed to pursue all of her dreams. She is currently publishing her third book, just finished college and is a wonderful motivational speaker. What shines through is her positive outlook on life despite seemingly insurmountable odds. What I loved best about her speech on TED was her response to a comment someone made on a video of hers that went viral on youtube. The person wrote that she should do the world a favour and just shoot herself because she was far too ugly to live. She got hurt at first not knowing why her mere existence was reason for such hatred. And then she thumbed her nose at the naysayers and the idiots and used the negativity as a fuel to go after all that she really wanted in life. Truly an inspiring figure and one that taught me how much I have to be grateful for.

Today another friend posted a video of a girl with only one leg dancing in a talent show. She danced like an angel. The loss of a leg after a nasty accident had left her and her family devastated. Her father had passed away years ago. Her mother and two siblings were all she had. They looked like regular middle class folk. Her mother was crying throughout her performance. At the end of it all, you could not help but applaud the simple woman’s strength and willpower that encouraged her daughter to do things that seemed impossible. The girl herself went through unspeakable pain but her fighting spirit was definitely fostered by her mother’s belief. Here was more inspiration that left me in tears. There is no limit for the human ability to endure.

I sit back and think how I want my son to be when he grows up. He will be slightly eccentric. He will be happy and with some luck he will be loved intensely as well. I want him to know that he can do anything at all and that despite his mother’s inability to be strong always, she can still teach him how to fight against all odds and how to smile when things seem hardest. I want him to know that he can make it in this unfriendly world. I want him to learn to be grateful for himself. With gratitude alone will come the blessings he needs to grow as a person.

Abrupt in love...

In love or in life, nothing happens abruptly. Things may apparently happen abruptly but there are always long simmering reasons behind what seems to be a sudden change of normal behaviour. People wait endlessly for something to happen or for people to notice that they have had enough of being treated like they can be left on the back burner always. It is possible to continue to mask one’s true feelings for quite a while but when one has one’s guard down as you do when you try to sleep after tossing and turning for hours, the truth has a way of poking its hard cold nose into your consciousness and you look at the face of the truth and have not the choice of looking away.

Again in relationships when you see the truth, you have no choice but to act on it. There is only so much of self-delusion that is possible after all. When people then see your action, they wonder what the trigger was for something so out of character. There is never one trigger. There is always more than just the tip of an iceberg even if others choose not to see it. But once you have committed to a course of action, it would be a serious mistake to back away. For that would begin the cycle all over again. Some truths do not go away. The others you can dress up for the world so you look perfect. I can’t not act on what I believe is right. It may not be the best course in life but at least there is some dignity in not lying to yourself.

My friend had recently gone through and is currently yet going through a really hard phase in her life. I talk to her often but I cannot help. I can only listen. She has lost the love she was counting on having for all time. She lives in a shell with a brave face but with the hollowness of silence echoing deeply within. Her life is about little things now and centred around her child. I admire her for having the courage to continue after being sucker-punched in more ways than one. To those who know her, the change in her seemed abrupt but I know that whatever sparked the loss had been brewing for more than a decade. Love is painful both in its presence and absence.

I read an article about seven reasons why people choose not to fall in love. They range from fear of being vulnerable to being unable to deal with the pain that comes along with the joy and to feeling that the love of the other is unequal to yours. I think the main reason why people shy away from the act of falling in love is because it complicates your existence beyond belief. Why would anyone want to lay themselves open to being manipulated or changed or judged? Why would anyone in their right mind want to be taken for granted? Why would anyone choose to go hang around past the days when you actually mattered to the other?

They say love is the single most beautiful feeling one can experience. I think that it is truly overrated because while you feel on top of the world for a short while, for the longer period of time all you feel is doubt. When intensity fades, when caring is reduced to superficial exchanges, when you do not even have a clue about how the other feels, then it is far better to admit that there is nothing left to fight for or hang on to. Maybe love can be of different kinds. Certainly the less tumultuous everyday kind of love seems to survive much longer than the kind that is feted in movies. 

But how would I know anyway? All I have as fodder for writing are the stories I see unfolding around me – one day I will write them as they are supposed to be written instead of how they are made to appear. One day my words will flow as they ought to – they will not be held back by anything at all.

For my little one...

The slim tall chocolate-hued little girl has eyes that twinkle like diamonds. She is gangly but not awkward. Her hair is silky with a little wave at the end. Her neck is slender and the collarbones stand out because she has to flesh out some more. Her cheekbones are well defined and the cute button nose twitches in irritation when her mother puts her foot down a bit too often. Her teeth are all over the place and so her smile is shy and a tad hesitant. Someday a friendly dentist is sure to make a lot of money. Altogether she is a pretty child who will look absolutely stunning the day she comes into her own.

Why do I adore this child beyond anything else? Why does her smile light up my heart so? Why do I feel such a strong sense of gratitude whenever I think of her? The answer is simple really. She came into my life when I was at one of my lowest phases. I had lost my father two years previously. My son was hyperactive and while I knew something was out of place, he was not yet diagnosed with autism. I was just about to get started on a new job when I discovered I was pregnant again. I was devastated. I wanted to work so badly. I wanted to get away from a child I knew I was not a good parent to. I wanted to feel like a person again. And how could I do that when I was wracked with nausea and losing weight in kilos. So I was blue. I had to be hospitalized for dehydration. I was put on medication so I could hang on to some weight. It was an unhappy pregnancy.

But when I gave birth to a little girl, I was transformed. The little thing was underweight – just 2 kilos, not surprising since I weighed exactly 49kilos just before I delivered her. In any other country she would have been placed in an incubator. But they gave her to me to keep by my side and the entire night in the awful clinic, I lay awake despite the pain to make sure she was okay. She was so small that I was scared to hold her. But she was my daughter. 

Thus grew the bond that was so strong it took me by surprise. This was a child who would cleave to me always. She would suckle heartily and sleep through the night. She never cried. She would get angry but mostly she was sunshine itself. I felt honoured to be her mother. It is not like I do not love my son – he is my firstborn after all but he never showed me that he loved me unabashedly and though I know now it is his partly his autism and partly my ineptitude that kept him from doing that, it was just easier to let the little one flood me with her affection. For my son I stretch myself thin. For my daughter, I have dreams. 

If there is anything I can do to ensure that my children learn the lessons of life without going through pain, I would do it. But I can’t do that and perhaps life’s lessons will not be valuable enough if they do not go through pain to learn them. On Mahi’s tenth birthday, I feel grateful and proud to be her mother. I hope that she always stays true to her spunky self – I hope I do right by her.

On this new year.....

Every year I write about how the hoopla over the New Year fails to impress me. It is just another day. Some years I feel like celebrating and do celebrate. On other years I stay aloof from all of the revelry and continue to be with my thoughts as is my wont. Most of the time its just S and me, talking and sitting up late to ring in the New Year in our own special way. Last year I had been through a really difficult phase just before the New Year and decided to celebrate the fact that even in the worst of times, one could find the inner strength to cope and emerge battle-weary but in one piece. This year I decided to spend time with family back home in Kerala. There would be no raucous celebration or revelry - just a simple holiday listening to stories and talking about hopes and dreams and falling under the languorous spell of the slow pace of life in Kerala.

I wonder why there is such importance given to the passing of an old year and the ringing in of a new one. Most people take this time out to think of what the year before has taught them and hope that the year ahead brings more of what they want. I think of it all the time. Introspecting is a way of life for me – in fact I overdo it. So at the end of a year, I do not keep looking back or wonder what life has in store for me. I have learnt to take one day at a time. It is good to keep in mind the experiences that made us better or worse in some way but it is more productive to do that constantly instead of at just one point in time where you feel duty-bound to do so.

Gratitude for life’s miracles and vicissitudes should be an everyday emotion. We are all incredibly lucky to just exist and those who are capable of true appreciation will make some effort to use it to make the world a better place in some small way.  If there is anything I have learnt in the last 365 days, it has been that a doughty spirit enriches life like nothing else. I started a vocational centre for special needs children and youth with my wonderful partner  and pal, Aks and feel a quiet sense of satisfaction that we are fighting against autism in our own way. We are blessed to have wonderful parents and friends who support us in our fight. 

Last year, I had also decided to focus on family more than ever because I now know how important is the happiness that comes from having a family that is held together by real connection.  I am also very proud of simply being me – a fact that I have never celebrated before. One of the standards for true worth is how you react in the face of extreme provocation. I had one such experience and even armed with more than enough facts and as flexible a tongue as anyone could desire, I did not stoop to the level of the benighted creature who tried desperately to spew venom in the worst way by vilifying my innocent children. Targeting those who cannot fight back is a particularly low form of cowardice. However the lesson I learnt there is that rising above is always the higher road.

I also learnt many lessons on the value of love. How it is possible to love in difficult circumstances, how it is possible to see very clearly the imperfection of love that demands changes always and how it is impossible to understand why anyone who says they care can silently be complicit in causing you hurt. But then love is an oddity – it comes upon you when you least expect it, it shakes you up and changes you forever , it makes you cope with things when all else looks bleak. In order to live your best life though, it is essential to love yourself completely first.  And above all be honest with the person in the mirror.

The year ahead I look forward to with eagerness. I have lots of plans for the centre. I have great friends both old and new. I have a husband whose face still lights up when he sees me. I have kids who are blessings in every sense of the word. I have siblings whom I can count on no matter how tough things get. I feel immense gratitude for the chance to see the birth of another year and pray for the ability to live life to the fullest. Have a blessed New Year my friends!