Notes to self

A set of reminders for a better everyday.

1.) Focus on being present in the moment . This has been a recurrent theme in my blog of late too. Learning the art of doing this from 14-month-old D.

2.) Set apart time for fitness. Work out at home, resume yoga, meditate for a while, go for a walk. Was regular with this but been lethargic ever since I got home to be with parents.

3.) Read good books. And read more often.

4.) Listen to music. Surprised that this is on the list because this is the one thing I used to do all the time. Now, though, my phone’s always on mute but I do play music in the background when D is eating or playing. But it’s mostly devotional or classical music, thanks to my family. Maybe pick different kinds of music too, so D is exposed to more variety.

5.) Mindless social media surfing needs to stop. My fingers and wrist hurt after a point!

6.) Start driving your car. Enough with the excuses and the baseless fears.

7.) Wear sarees more often, and learn to drape with more finesse. On a similar note, wear good clothes, give away stuff you don’t wear. Been doing this in regular intervals but wardrobe optimisation is a life-long process.

8.) Focus on self care. Seriously. It’s about time. Treat yourself to a good hair cut or a pedicure every few months at least.

9.) Practice patience. Easier said than done especially for someone like me who’s most impatient. But, but, I’m already doing a lot better than the last few weeks ever since I felt myself spiralling out of control. Point number 1 , aka, mindfulness, has helped.

10.) Get on top of your finances. Pending PF withdrawals, invoices, investment status, mutual fund returns, SIPs… get them all sorted one by one.

11.) Pick your projects. I’ve been turning down out a lot of work that’s come my way these days because I realise it’s not important now. Maybe it’s a good idea to say an outright No rather than reeling under the pressure once you’ve agreed to take on said work and then opting out. I want to spend more time with D. She’s my number one. Work scene seems more manageable now.

12.) Ask for help. You can’t and don’t have to do everything yourself. I can count on family and friends to help with babycare and more or just talk.

13.) Stay in touch with friends. And get out more to meet them. Also don’t shy away from forging new friendships.

14.) Do things you love. Sing, bake, cook, paint, photograph, write, work, laugh, play with abandon, with passion and zero expectations. And don’t think about how you’ll be perceived or if you’re good or bad. Treat everything as an opportunity to learn. Try it without holding back. Without seeking validation.

15.) stay grateful and positive. You are in a god place.

16.) Cut yourself some slack. It’s all right.

New year, same me

I’m not big on New Year Resolutions, but the last year has revealed several aspects of my personality I hadn’t encountered in a long time. Anger, frustration, anxiety, also unbridled joy and love – having a baby brought a whole lot of big big feelings and emotions to the fore. So I really feel the need to sit back, take stock and put it all into writing. It’s my version of therapy. So here’s a laundry list to help get myself back on track.

Exercise

This tops the list for various reasons: I need the endorphins because baby care drives me up the wall on some days. I quite enjoy working out but haven’t done any hard core exercises so far, so this might be the year of high intensity strength training work outs. God knows I need all that physical strength and endurance. Surgery has left me with a weak back and there have been times when I’ve hurt my legs and back sleeping or just standing or sitting. I kid you not. I toss from sleeping on one side ( night time nursing is no fun but slightly bearable this way) to getting flat on my back and my body literally creaks and goes: whoa, easy there! Literally a wake up call ( pun intended). When sleeping has turned into an injury-causing activity, you know it’s time. I do not like gyms so I’m just going to resume my runs and work out at home. Any good YouTube channels and app recommendations are welcome.

Self care

I spend my day in atrocious clothes, my skin is dry and scaly (why you do this Hyderabad) and my hair is messy, wiry and has a mind of its own. My self care aspirations are hence very basic – moisturise every day, oil hair, use good conditioner, brush hair. Yes, the bar is set really low. If I manage to have a consistent night skin care regimen (cleanse-tone-serum) then I’d have outdone myself, but I’m the least disciplined when it comes to stuff like this. Moisturising seems like a chore to me, that’s like five minutes of my time I’d rather have spent scrolling through my Instagram feed. But I need to muster the self discipline to do this because I kind of care about how I look. To some extent. I’m always such a mess so it seems like I don’t give a damn but I do. So this year, I might be putting in more effort into looking like a decently turned out human being, because I don’t want to look like I stole someone else’s baby.

Declutter

I’m passionate about cleaning up and sorting out the house; I get wildly excited about it, and rub my hands in glee just anticipating the whole process. It started when I was still in school, this obsession with cleaning, sorting, purging, rearranging, and it’s still going strong. M probably thinks I display serial-killer type tendencies what with the mad glint in my eye when I talk about spending the weekend tidying up the home.

But despite this, my house is full of stuff. I can never be a minimalist because I live with a hoarder and a baby. M’s strategy involves buying anything and everything that’s on sale irrespective of whether we need it. We have multiple shelves lined with toiletries that’ll probably last us a lifetime. A cabinet full of single malt bottles. A cupboard full of glasses. A bag full of old credit cards. Drawers filled with cables, endless loops of wires, cardboard boxes, batteries, remote controls, screws. I’m perhaps marginally better, but the home decor section is my kryptonite. Can not resist pretty kitchenware, bed linen and the likes. And also cannot stop buying cute dresses for D. Time to channel my inner Mary Kondo and give away things that don’t spark joy.

This year, I vow to buy less and give more.

Don’t judge

Im prone to making snap judgments about people without knowing zilch about them. This has to stop. It might help to get to understand them better and be more accepting of different points of view. This judging thing is coming directly in the way of my other goal of making new friends and rekindling old friendships.

Nurture friendships

I really thought it’d be easy to nurture friendships but it takes effort. I hadn’t really thought of it, maybe even took my friends for granted at some point, but it dawned on me after I hit 30 that things aren’t quite the same. People change, they grow, evolve, and your friendship must provide that space for it to sustain and remain healthy. At the same time, it’s equally important to put yourself out there and connect with newer people. I thought of myself as an introvert but I kind of thrive in the company of like minded people, so I must make it a point to engage with my friends – both old and new – because it makes me happy.

Develop a hobby

Raising a baby leaves me with little time to do anything else of merit but I realise that when I’m overwhelmed, even ten minutes away from the offspring helps. So it makes sense to use my breaks wisely instead of staring at my phone. I used to be clued into the music scene, now I hardly know what’s going on or who the new artistes are, so time to reacquaint myself with new music and old favourites. I must also read more. And bake more. Do a bit of gardening. Give my attempt at painting another shot. Resume music lessons. Take online courses. Get into yoga. Or photography. Take up interesting freelance work. The key is to stay inspired, maybe D will pick up my vibe too.

Stay calm

I cannot tell you just how angry and frustrated I get if D doesn’t calm down or if she refuses to sleep no matter what I do. Most of that anger is kind of directed at myself for failing at such a simple task, and at that point it’s hard to see that I’m asking too much of a ten month old baby. It’s ridiculous. I must absolutely calm the fuck down! It’s true that as babies grow older, they feed off your energy, so it’s important that you pass on only good vibes. This year, I’m going to focus on letting go of anger, resentment and guilt, and aim to be a much calmer and positive person. Maybe give meditation a shot once again or develop my own strategies to cope with negativity. Time to get my zen mode on and be a much better version of myself this year onwards.

And you, what are your personal goals for the new year?

Ten years is a lifetime

A friend of mine shared a pic of the two of us from almost ten years ago. It was taken at another dear friend’s beach house just outside Madras and we’re both grinning like Cheshire cats. My hair looks unusually curly and teeth look gigantic in the pic, yet I’m smiling and we both seem relaxed in the way only two close friends can be when together. This set forth a wave of nostalgia and had me pining for the good old times – post work shenanigans at Zara, inside jokes and pop culture references at office, weekends with M, impromptu coffee sessions with friends, random house parties, beach house nights, fun concerts, and Madras, that beautiful seaside city which made it all possible.

But nostalgia can be tricky because it warps facts and sugar coats real life events from the past. Ten years ago, I was a complete mess. It took me a while to actually start talking to my own team mates at work. I was actually intimidated by all the seemingly cool, progressive people I went to college with. It was my first proper stint in a big city and while I’d always liked the idea of Madras as a small town girl, it was not exactly a piece of cake. I was going through trouble in the personal front right from 2008 – right after I made the rookie mistake of telling my mom that I was dating a guy and would like to marry him someday. I said it innocently enough within weeks or months of meeting M, but boy! Did my folks throw a fit. It assumed violent, disturbing and traumatic proportions in the years that followed and at 25, I was contemplating suicide. Like very seriously.

I was battling my own demons, struggling to sleep, struggling to wake up, eating too much, not eating at all, experiencing panic attacks, high blood pressure, extreme anxiety, and through it all, I envied my friends who had saner parents and normal lives wherein they did not go through a nervous breakdown when their folks called them to say hi on the phone. At work, I’d put on a facade, and joke about my situation but there have been times when I’ve broken down at office too. I did not, however, shut myself out; I did the opposite, so I was out a lot, because I couldn’t bear the thought of being alone with my thoughts or worse, with my mom, who decided to stay put with me in Madras and torture the fuck out of me every single day.

Ten years ago, the only thing that mattered to me was my career and my friends; M figured in it too I think, but only much later when family drama intensified. I was not invested in family at all, and I was sure I did not want kids, because my folks had scarred me enough and I did not want to pass it forward and screw up the genetic pool. I was ambitious and driven but never realised that I was very very depressed and anxious too. I was trying to piece myself together and just cross the bridge when I got there because thinking about my future and how I’d work things out would get me frazzled and wound up.

Cut to today, I’m married to M, mother to a delightful ten month old baby girl, I’ve come to value family more than anything else and I’m on a break from work ( something that was unimaginable even 3 years ago). Several bridges were built and compromises reached, a lot remains unresolved and I’m ok with that. You cannot really get complete closure and that’s all right as well. I choose my battles and let things go. I’m also a lot more self aware, I’m not as awkward with people, I cook pretty well and make excellent coffee. I’m more practical, more confident, stronger than earlier, more accepting of myself and other people and more acutely aware of my flaws; some of them I choose to work on, and some are simply an intangible part of who I am.

A picture can be deceptive and you’re free to interpret it any way you like. So while it seems like a happy pic, I’m honestly in a much better place now, emotionally and otherwise. I’m still smiling in the picture despite all the trouble I was having then, because I think somewhere deep down I knew things would be better. I was hopeful then just as I am, today, ten years and many battles and setbacks later. Some things don’t change.

Ghosts of blogs past

I spend a large part of my ‘work-time’ these days dealing with a severe case of writer’s block. Of course, once I start with the lede and the first few sentences, the rest of the article flows easily. But I constantly find myself looking for that elusive perfect start. Which is why blogging is so much more relaxing. I ramble on with little regard for grammar and good writing, and I find it really satisfying, especially when I’m sharing personal stories I wouldn’t normally do when I meet someone in person.

So today I was going through some cringeworthy stuff I wrote more than 10 years ago. I’m talking about 2003 here. Since I’m more than willing to embarrass myself, here is the link to my ‘wannabe’ profile on this forum – with links to 5 articles I wrote – called mouthshut.com, which was quite the rage back then, along with Orkut.

http://www.mouthshut.com/rubbermouth/

Also, this earlier blog where I wax eloquent about Camus, absurdism, holidays in Bangalore (the post was featured in the Bangalore Mirror apparently) and other deep stuff.

http://philosophycomescheap.blogspot.in/

I’m re-reading them to get an idea about how much – or if at all – I have grown over the last ten years, emotionally and intellectually. Also, trying to gauge my writing objectively to see if I’m doing any better now, after a decade. I suggest you read them too, for pure entertainment, if nothing else.

Pet peeves -2: Humblebragging

There’s a new crop of people I have been coming across of late. I couldn’t quite explain their type articulately until Urbandictionary came to my rescue with the genius term ‘humblebrag’ which, in my opinion, best describes this species. Here’s Urbandictionary nailing it:

Subtly letting others now about how fantastic your life is while undercutting it with a bit of self-effacing humor or “woe is me” gloss.

“Uggggh just ate about fifteen piece of chocolate gotta learn to control myself when flying first class or they’ll cancel my modelling contract LOL :p #humblebrag”

Well, the above example is just a mild case of humblebragging. And as you might have guessed, there are various degrees, depending on your tolerance levels. And my tolerance for fake, pretentious people has hit an all-time low. Which is one of the perks of growing up, I guess.

But I must admit that when some of my friends ‘humblebrag’ on social media and outside of it, I often wonder if I must call their bluff or just let them be. Like this girl who just wouldn’t stop talking about how incredibly busy she is, now that she has a new job and ends every phone call with, oh I have to go for a party now. Or some of my single friends who complain that every guy who talks to them is hitting on them. Or this girl I know who serves average food at parties and gracefully accepts compliments on her cooking skills that come her way, even when the food is clearly not worthy of praise. Okay, I’m majorly nitpicking now, but you get the drift right?

What baffles me is that these ‘humblebraggers’ get appreciated by people more often than people like me who are actually good at stuff (yeah, I’m not humble by any stretch of imagination). Maybe it’s a case of you-scratch-my-back-I-scratch-yours. I don’t like this phenomenon, and I do not wish to participate in any backscratching exercises. Because I am a doer. No, honestly. I mean it in a very matter-of-fact way, as someone who knows myself really well.

I believe in letting my work do the talking. I’d rather bake you an amazing brownie than talk about how great I’m at cooking. I don’t go around publicising my work (or even my blog posts) on social media for the same reason. See, if you are good at your work and other things, it shows. People will recognise it, and appreciate you where it matters. It shows that they trust you and your abilities; that they respect you as a person.

They are aware that you know your shit and you’re not full of shit. Sorry, couldn’t resist it. So you owe it to yourself to churn out work of more epic awesomeness every single time. That’s the kind of brand I want to build for myself – someone who’s great at whatever she does, someone who is reliable and hands-on. I want to be known as someone who gets work done, not someone who simply talks about how cool she is. And I’m proud of myself for getting by without ‘humblebragging’ and ‘backscratching’. Ah, sometimes it frustrates me to no end that I almost want to shake these humblebraggers in my life and tell them: ‘You know what, you suck. You are flattering yourself, you poor delusional soul.’ But I try to be civil and more socially appropriate.

I wonder why we are stuck up on praise, sympathy, compliments? Are we doing things to please people and hence, gain their appreciation or are we doing it for ourselves, irrespective of whether we are noticed or not? That’s another internal conflict. On one hand, I don’t want to brag about my work and skills; but I also want people to notice me and compliment me. But they’ll never know I’m good at something until I publicise it, which contradicts my first point. You see the problem there? Clarity, I need clarity.

In other news, I almost ran into a pole while on my evening walk today, because I was staring at an airplane in the sky, trying to figure out which airline it belongs to. I catch myself staring at people on the road randomly. I’m constantly knocking over furniture and dropping things – mostly my phone. I am worried for myself. I checked the most reliable source in the world – Google – and realised that I have probably had Huntington’s disease all my life. Or even dyspraxia. Also I took a Buzzfeed quiz which confirmed that I have OCD. Well, turning 30 is clearly not going to be a breeze for yours truly.