Restless Routine

Riverscapes

A river flows some little way out from my home. At least- I call it a river. After each dam that blocks her way has claimed a part of her for itself, she is little more than a trickle by the time she finds her path to freedom. Some have even taken to calling her a stream... or ‘Naalaah’. (But we meander… and we will go far afield if we do! :) )

It is to this river I often head when I’m seeking a quiet evening to myself. My usual trajectory takes me up one side of the river, across the bridge, and down the other bank. The river is always playing witness to a diaspora of human emotion and conversation. All along the bridge are faces as similar and as distinct as pebbles on the river bank.

Walking along, I catch snippets of conversation… glimpses of a familiar emotion on an unknown face. It is strange how we reveal a little bit of our deepest emotions to an unknown pedestrian, simply through the connection of being human. A couple seated on the stony steps- her head bowed; he seated next to her… ready to comfort her, yet giving her the space to recover her strength. I walk on in haste lest I intrude into a private moment; but the briefest picture reveals the entire story.

Groups of youngsters animatedly discuss the day’s events. It is quite entertaining how each of us imagines that all that we think, feel, experience is brand new and unique to us! It is- in a way. So when a 19 year old holds forth eloquently on her life plans and sees no possibility of them not working out, the confidence is only slightly amusing and a lot more inspiring. For that moment, a fresh energy surges through the mind cleaning the slate for some brand new drawings! For a moment one becomes 19 again, forgets the exhaustion and disappointments and smiles a real smile.

Looking away, my eyes rest briefly on a mother and daughter in earnest conversation. The words are few, the emotions many. The young age of the girl, the flowers in her hair, the shiny new Mangalsutra (Hindu equivalent of a wedding ring), and the expression on her mother’s face make for a poignant picture. Youth bubbled over to express itself; Age looked on with patience - recognizing similarities, noticing differences, and coming to terms with a growing, independent reality. Such a moment -what more could one ask for in one's pursuit of the picturesque on the banal landscape of routine.

And yet, the river flows on. She doesn't pause to eavesdrop. She doesn't whisper her own advice. She does not mock the futility of it all.  Somewhere along its banks lovers whisper… somewhere a debate flares… somewhere two friends enjoy a dialogue of perfect silence… and somewhere a lonely heart tells the universe its sorrows. Next time I visit my river, I shall listen closely- for I might hear an unexpected gurgle of mirth… I shall look closely, for I might just discern two recently shed tears joining the tide.

An unlikely path towards Nirvana...

For some time now, I have been trying to ‘arrange’ my marriage. I’m not sure how this is done elsewhere in the world, but in India, we have ‘marriage bureaus’... what the West euphemistically calls ‘Dating Services’ or ‘Singles Clubs’...

Like all young persons forced down this way, I spent quite some time agonizing over ‘being reduced to this’… and seriously thought of venting my frustration using the written word… had even considered some titles: ‘Close Encounters of the Arranged Kind’, ‘Single at <<insert appropriate age>>’, ‘Being unmarried in India’ –for a measure of Desi-ness… can’t you see one of these titles next to the latest Chetan Bhagat! :P

But then came my first spiritual breakthrough! Positivity, closely followed by Perspective. After all, the ‘arranged’ way is just another way of meeting someone, right? So statistically, you’re only increasing your chances of meeting someone. Of course, no denying the fact that there will be ‘suitable matches’ that are so far removed from your ideas of all that you imagined that you will want to despair! But only remember that jerk you went out with in college who used you as a dinner ticket; in case of guys, the chick who habitually drank your money, but danced with another; and you will be reminded, that it is not the system, but the incident that sucks!

Moving along the path of spiritual growth, it is of vital importance to shed pride… and trust me, nothing is as humbling as the feedback in the arranged marriage system! Giving complete strangers a right to judge you is one rude eye-opener! Pretty much a case of ‘Arranged Marriage- the great Leveler’ (Sorry James Shirley)! (Of course, it is important to remember that the judgment is without context; so no reason it should hit your self-esteem!) You may be smart, but you are not pretty; you may be pretty, but you’re not tall; you may be tall, but that may be too tall!! So, rather early in the process one realizes that whatever it is you pride yourself on, it may not be enough, and it is definitely not all!

As a corollary to the above, one also gets some valuable lessons in Tolerance- for judgment, for opinions… you see, in the great Indian Arranged Marriage- everyone has a say (and they will say it :P)! But you must be the larger person, and learn to pardon the pitiful ignorance that makes them blind to your many qualities; ‘Forgive them Lord, for they know not what they reject’! :P

Having learned humility and tolerance, the next lesson the arranged marriage aspirant learns is- ‘to see something to admire in all’; we never really realize how we scorn differences, do we? The well-read intellectual looks down on the pretty girl who knows her cosmetics… the city girl will look askance at the ‘newbie’ who can’t drive… we all have our criteria for judgment! Most of us function by set parameters- guy is a loser if he doesn’t earn this much, girl’s a dud if she can’t throw lavish house parties … but through the experiences in and around my sphere, I’ve realized how narrow this view is. That guy earning half your salary is probably in a relaxed job so he can devote his spare hours to making great music (true story!)… and the girl who is a bad hostess may be an intellectual author in the making! It’s rather interesting to see the story of a person and understand the life choices that shaped it. So basically, ‘Baalak, har insaan mein badapan hai… use dhoondo’!! :P

And then of course, there’s Patience. You will go into the ‘Market’ with the confidence of a distinction student applying for an MNC job… only to realize, it really isn’t that simple. There’ll be girls you fall in love with but who may not return your affection, guys who will appall you and refuse to quit calling, and ‘prospects’ so very different from what you imagined, that you will almost give up on the whole deal! But the point is- you won’t. :) When the next ‘match’ comes along, you will hope, and you will aspire, and you will give it your best shot… and if you can keep your temper and your smile through this- trust me, you’ve come a long way!

And while you are being patient, you will also learn that this does not in any way make a case for the much-advertised ‘Compromise’! What is ‘on your list’ is important to you, and under no circumstances should you let yourself be bullied. Let me tell you, this needs resilience equal to a Yogi! There will be well-intentioned aunties, well-married cousins, and Mommy going ‘Tick-tick-tick’ with her Body Clock imitation! But do not let these deter you, and bear on with your Chase! :)

So while my tryst with the ‘Arranged Marriage’ continues… I am yet to discover if I have ‘Wife-Skills’, but I’d like to think I’ve made rather good progress on ‘Life Skills’!

The Loss of Naivette

A few days back I found myself sifting some thoughts… and on an impulse put them on paper. I expect this is a part 1 and will go through much improvisation… but felt like sharing it for whatever it is worth in its first cut…

The Loss of Naivette

Life robs you of innocence. The shining faces and glowing hearts with which we set forth into this world soon become tarnished by the harsh, acidic realities of life. We give these realities the name of ‘Experience’; and what we lose in the soft warmth of innocence we gain in the hard, cold armor of self-preservation. This is the obvious; the not-so-obvious is the cyclical nature of this ‘evolution’ …a constant revolution if you may. It almost seems like we let loose a chain reaction every time we open ourselves to a new experience! In corollary, is it in order to reclaim our naïveté that we crave the novel?

The taking up of a new hobby to overcome heartbreak, the buying of an object to get over an intangible loss …a fresh start is almost always an attempt to feel once again the purity of hope, the squeaky cleanness of a fresh slate. A fresh page comes with no guarantees… but in opening it, in opening the doors for new people, we try to find the trust we lost in our old relationships. In finding a new place, we search for proof that our beliefs will be rewarded by a change of circumstances.