Of families, love...and life.

We all hear of the good old days, when life was simple, people lived a content and happy life, had people who loved them, and they loved people, and they shared wholeheartedly, wished good things for people, and so on.

I'm a person who lived my whole life in various cities. I grew up watching my dad wake up very early, get dressed in a hurry and rush off for work, only to return late at night, when he hardly had any energy to even talk. My mom would single-handedly manage the cooking, cleaning, washing, paying the bills and taking me to the various extra curricular activities I was involved in. Where I was concerned, my childhood was a blur of a million things to do, between school, after school practices for any events and my other extracurricular activities like Bharathanatyam(a dance form), Chinmaya Mission classes (a class where we were taught religion and values),  elocution classes and a number of other things I got into, and the homework we get from all of those, exams, more exams and then stage performances and God knows what else, there was hardly any time for anything at all.

We have a family tradition, in which on birthdays and festivals, my mom's side of the family gathers at my grandma's place to celebrate. Although this used to be fun when my mother and her siblings were just ordinary people living their lives, as time went on, it became an imposition. The reason being that the competition, jealousy and a million other things filled the air with so much tension that the cozy, homey environment was lost. As the children(my cousins and I) grew, the tension mounted steadily until, recently, it peaked.

In their childhood, my mother had been the slightly above average daughter academically, whereas she was an excellent actress, and took part in various school musicals and other forms of literary drama. She was also an active participant in all the school's activities, and was therefore, the pretty and popular daughter who became the head girl. Her sister, on the other hand, was the nerd. My grandparents however, supported the obedient daughter who gets all the academic prizes.

My mother's rebellious streak only grated on their nerves, and so the sibling rivalry never completely subsided, even in their adulthood. My mom continues to give in where her sister continues to manipulate things to get her way, as she always has been doing. Since her plans have mostly fallen through, she continues to do that to everyone, myself included. She makes her opinion so important, that we all tend to follow in a daze. Well, there is a point at which we realize that we've been sweet talked into doing or saying something we shouldn't, right.

My realization was shortly after my 21st birthday. I had started actually maturing, and looking at things with a better, more honest and mature perspective, and so, the first thing I saw was what a forced thing those gatherings we had were. There was no easy humor, no happy talk. Hardly anyone was enjoying the fact that all of us were together on that day. Lots of gossip and much of what I would call, small talk to escape addressing the elephant in the room. Everybody was doing it. They were smiling and roaring with laughter, but none of it reached their eyes. There was constant talk about their children, when they were unconsciously marketing and praising their own, in a way that would seem like they were putting all the others down.

I was honestly very put off by what I was seeing, but I kept it within me, caz I didn't want to ruin what little was left of family bonding. She, being so used to being the "Alpha male" of the house, demanded her way, or got it anyway. She planted herself in everyone's lives, made their decisions for them, and took the credit for being so charitable. Later, my aunt started to directly attack me. She used to indirectly make me seem less than her children, when I was at least 6 years their senior, and there need not be any comparison anyway.

I used to smile it off at first, but her little jibes started becoming increasingly conspicuous, and my polite tolerance soon transformed into annoyance, though I fought it, and strictly kept it under wraps, caz a confrontation was the last thing I wanted - I didn't want to complicate things.

She was, however, relentless. She continued to prod and poke the annoyance I was keeping shackled down, and the beast started responding, rearing its ugly head, nostrils flaring. Annoyance turned into barely contained anger, and anger into such fury, that it shook the very roots of my being. I was still managing to contain the enraged beast, that was literally heaving itself onto it's cage, demanding release. I was furious, but I didn't want to act prematurely. With time, my fury started to look for an outlet. I used to let the beast have it's way when I got home, and my parents grew very worried at my vehemence.

There have been times when I've been that furious, that I tend to even forget that I'm a human being, not a beast. I would be sweating profusely, and my blood would boil, and my head would feel like an over pressurized balloon, ready to explode. I literally felt that pounding in my head, and an awful headache and the desire to pummel her into the ground, so deep that she would have to be dug out. I used to literally focus ALL my energy into stopping myself. I mean, I couldn't just blow my top when there was no apparent reason as to why I was doing so.

I told my parents about it when I was getting annoyed about it. They initially told me that I was getting worked up over nothing, but my mounting fury alerted them to what was happening while it was happening, and then, they couldn't be so nonchalant about it either. However, my restraint paid off, because her constant prodding soon became obvious for everyone to see. My lack of reaction brought to light her efforts to push me off the edge. In trying her best to make me lose my cool and react to her provocation, she lost hers. She took it out on her daughter for a non-issue. My cousin and I were having a fun moment in which she was trying to get my phone, and I wasn't letting her, and she was chasing me in circles to get to it.

My aunt blew her top as everyone watched in shocked surprise, wondering what was so wrong about being a little playful. When her little outburst didn't merit a response from me either, she finally gave up the prodding and poking, and started behaving like the victim, making it look like I hated her, despite her best efforts to make me happy and comfortable. What she's talking about is her constant so-called expression of love by way of giving me overwhelmingly expensive gifts. Although nothing could be further from the truth, and I was neither happy nor comfortable with getting any of those things, I still didn't respond to any of it, since that seemed to be the best mode of defiance.

The other people in my family aren't all that different. They're all the same, only varying in degrees of being so self-absorbed and materialistic.
If at all, the expensive gifts have no value to me, because I'm a person who would appreciate a simple rose and a warm hug much much more than anything that money can buy. Honestly, I'm not just saying that - it is a belief that resonates with my true being.

In saying so, I'd also like to tell you about an old lady I knew, who used to wash toilets for a living. She was illiterate, but the most pleasant, happy, content and the most beautiful person I have ever known.

She used to come to my room every morning, bright and early to empty our dustbins into a garbage bag, and wished me "Good Morning"  with that bright, happy smile of hers. So endearing was she that I used to miss her on the days she took a leave of absence from work. She used to do her job so conscientiously, taking care to clean each bathroom so well that every surface was scrubbed and brushed until it shone. None of the cleaning ladies before her used to even bother to do half the job she did, and so, I used to appreciate her, and talk to her and listen to what she had to say. She used to respond by taking care of me when I was ill, making sure I was alright, checking if I had eaten and just being a well wisher, even though there was nothing more than a friendship and a language that we shared.

What continued to pleasantly surprise me was how nice a person she was, how positive, happy, loving, concerned, honest and pleasant she was, and I feel that she  deserved the world, but she had barely enough to eat, with 7 mouths to feed.

I soon had to move out of that place, and am now nowhere near where the little old lady lives, but I still think of her fondly, from time to time, and I hope that wherever she is, she remains the happy, beautiful person I once knew.

So what I was getting at was, how family is no longer what it is defined to be, no more white picket fence and the whole sitting down to a quiet, cozy dinner thing - if at all, it is very, very rare. If you have it, treasure it, but if you don't have it, don't worry - all hope is not lost. We still do have a life ahead of us. In my belief, I'm going to try and make my family, when I have one of my own, one filled with genuine love and happiness. I continue to pray that my husband, who I am yet to meet, will not be averse to it. I wish to have 3 children, only to teach them to love each other, and support each other, the way real families are expected to.

Of Intelligence, wit and less used brains :)

I was just thinking of the importance of actual intelligence and wit in our lives, and when I got a multitude of ideas, I thought the best way to analyse it is by putting it down.

Intelligence, in my opinion isn't just a photographic memory, but the ability to sort out, process and apply knowledge and information acquired from various sources appropriately, exactly when it is needed. Not just the presence of mind, but the ability to think out of the box, and survive any circumstance, eventually.

Wit, on the other hand, is the ability to come up with cleaver lines, comebacks or innuendos at just the right moment. It is the ability to be amazingly funny, but in a cleaver, not-so-geeky way. Most witty people just come up with things instantly, in response to some situation or just something said, and it cracks up the whole crowd.

I particularly appreciate those who manage to be witty and non-offensive, because that's an art too, to be funny and still nice, caz most jokes tend to be about someone or something someone does, and can seriously hurt someone's feelings.
The reason why the other forms of comedy don't usually appeal to me is because they're either offensive, dirty, disgusting or just plain dumb. A person tripping, slipping or falling seriously doesn't make me laugh out loud.

So, although I feel that intelligence and wit don't necessarily go hand in hand, it definitely is a treat to see intelligence meet wit in some people. Not only is the world a brighter place when I meet such people, but I also feel calmer, much more relaxed and happier than I ever was. There's a renewed sense of freedom, and mobility, like when you wear that nice and airy dress on a hot summer's day.

Apart from having so much to discuss with such people, my brain feels like finally, it's had a good, refreshing workout, as opposed to the usual caged, sedentary lifestyle it leads, making small talk with small minded people, discussing insignificant ideas and obsessing over trifles. It is the same refreshing rush of energy I get when I write, like now - the happiness this gives me is just undescribable. It is essential that I do this when I get a head full of ideas, for when I don't, I feel dull, exhausted and useless.

Whatever the reason may be, the brain needs a full work out a few times a week too. Monotonous jobs, living the same old life, adhering to a set routine is most annoying because it gets so boring, and your life and brain becomes so stagnant that it definitely begins to reek in a while. When you notice the stench, and still continue to ignore it, it becomes terribly overwhelming and you lose hope that the situation can be reversed.

It's a little like the whole idea of becoming morbidly obese. You take to eating more and more, for whatever reason, and ignore your expanding waistline. In a while, you will need new clothes every now and then, which can be exciting at first, but then, you run out of choices and sizes caz all you can fit into now are huge, shapeless costumes. Nothing makes you look nice, and you feel that all is lost. You lose not only your shape, but with it, your self esteem, your freedom, your joy and your comfort. People around you don't help much either, making snide remarks, and constantly advising you - badgering you with what you've already heard from the first million people. You stop going out, stop meeting people, stop looking in the mirror, and you become a bitter, miserable person, and stagnate all the more - and then, once your body starts giving up on you, you are just too far gone.

This is how your brain gets too, out of sheer disuse. It gets morbidly obese, then rusty and ultimately unhealthy. It no longer has the vitality and vigour it once had. All you can think about is how miserable your life is, at present and utterly insignificant things like that, and then you wallow in self pity that eventually transforms into self loathing. It is at this point that people give up on life, and stop living. Peace and joy become misery, and life becomes a mere dull, insignificant existence.


However, true intelligence that lacks a sense of humour will lead to utter neglect too, because with a head full of ideas, no outlet, and no comedy, one becomes like one possessed, no longer a member of common society, no way of gelling in, no way of sharing any kind of life or idea, and end up in a state of much more neglect. That's the reason why some scientists go mad.

So, where intelligence meets wit, wisdom, compassion, consideration, humility and recreation, it has spawned the ultimate individual, who lives a beautiful, happy, and wholesome life, with the hope and belief that tomorrow is gonna be still better. When they face problems, the add a little humor to it, softening the blow.

Like Scarlet O'Hara  so rightly said, "After all, tomorrow is another day."