The Laws of the Jungle

Every territory however bound or unbound is governed by a set of laws. What one must always remember is that the unsaid laws are often more stern in nature than the ones that are clearly laid out. While entering a jungle, it is very important to be cognizant of the laws of the jungle and be as abiding as one’s inherent candor may permit.

In my opinion, I believe that most millenials have a basic understanding of the above since we watched varied versions of ‘Mowgli’ growing up. I think the mind has thrown this analogy at me today, since I believe there are quite a few parallels that can possibly be drawn between the two wild arenas, the tame woods and the wild corporate jungle.

Mowgli was an unusual boy; he was born in a situation which literally spelled out a different chosen path for him. To him the ideal world was one with a shrewd and aged panther, a wise and conniving python and a knowledge filled Grizzly Bear mentor. One of the pros that he definitely had in his life was the lack of a parallel world he could draw; to him the woods were the world.

People also say ‘When in Rome, be like a Roman’, but must one forget the original essence of the soul? The analogy of the fittest surviving through thick and thin is also an interesting one. In a world plagued by competition, do we end up discovering different facets to our own personality? Shall we term this as modern evolution, the ability to be a chameleon without the true understanding of my true blue hue?

While one can step out of the cocoon with the realization that life will no more be mollycoddled, must one expect flying axes coming one’s way and react in an unperturbed candor? To adapt is a virtue, but to be completely lost and out of the given path can be quite a bane. Water flows effortlessly essentially, but the climate can lead it to a stationery state of being and with the passage of time when one becomes like an iceberg, only a gargantuan Titanic set against it can make the picture a romantic one.

The ultimate question to be answered is, till when must one construct to constrict and when is the move for disruptive disaster to be made?

The Bigger Picture...and why its so beautiful

The first time I heard about the bigger picture was as a design student. In theory and practical application, the bigger picture somehow almost seemed to be the focal point, without ever being seen. Without having fully understood what it stood for, I started disliking the bigger picture, for making all us small ones look so bad.

When it is always about the bigger picture, then why are we earthlings struggling so hard with our little pixel? As a person who had just begun taking her first wobbly stepson the road to adulthood, the struggles within my tiny bubble were real.  Forgetting my phone charger was a hindrance, not knowing how to travel alone in a new city was a big challenge, looking for a comfortable seat in an alien canteen was terrifying and learning to allocate funds was probably one of the most testing experiences of the 19 year old me. While I was waging my wars, one triviality at a time, I subconsciously grew more aware of the larger picture.  The question seemed to trouble me more with each usage of the phrase. At one point in time, I remember understanding it contextually, which at that point translated to ‘an umbrella concept’ which enveloped many bifurcations under itself. The understanding was quite one sided and for the longest time I was complacent within my one dimensional vision of the concept.

As I attempted to truly understand what this invisibly big picture was all about, I felt even more confused with the multitudes of small pictures I came across. I met so many diverse types of people, came across such strong energies, hung out with people I was overwhelmed; amazed; amused; motivated; influenced and peer pressured by, and in this process of interacting with the world, I realized there was more to the world, there were things beyond my tiny pixel of existence.

There can be no fair judgment about a journey, each may be fruitful to the traveler in a unique way. While an obstacle always presents itself in front of the traveler, it is completely upon the traveler to decide the next course of action. While some choose to stagnate, some choose to continue flowing and what must be remembered is that each journey continues to be beautiful in its own way.

Today, I stumbled upon a picture of two of my best friends sitting together in a foreign country. While one had been in love with the other, the other was able to offer only friendship in return. Over these years their bond grew cold, staying limited to brief social media greetings. When the lover got to know of the other coming to his country, after seven long years of strangeness, he was unable to decide what the right thing to do was. Must he face the friend whom he longed love from or must he behave coldly, like nothing happened at all?

The fact that he decided to go and see the friend made me smile thinking of the larger picture. It is when we see things beyond our periphery of existence, it is when we decide to sync our energy with something beyond our self, it is when we see beyond our impulsive reactions that we begin to see the haze fade. The bigger picture starts becoming clearer the moment we decide to let go of selfishness, the moment we understand that there is more to life than just taking and asking for our self. When we do things, that do not lead to immediate self gratification, but more of a feeling of ‘investment’ for loved ones, it is then that we see the bigger picture.

There will be people who will never be able to see the bigger picture, and there will be people who will be able to. For the ones who are able to, shall be seen smiling just a tad more, shall have a few more nights of peaceful sleep, and shall lose out on some angry battles over the course of time. What shall make the battles worth fighting is the vision of the bigger picture, and how truly beautiful it is to be a part of it.

Please don’t make any sudden rules, you don’t know half of the abuse

While ferociously reacting to a domino in motion today (metaphorically of course), I realised my reaction had deeper roots than I had thought.

Before I go and add the self-deprecating humour to the sad part, I would definitely like to highlight that fact that each reaction according to my philosophy has not one stimulus but a series of stimuli to trace back.  So what happened twenty minutes back was quite a colourful concoction of my deep love and affection for the city of Pune, my behavioral pattern which is very similar to that of a control freak, the long list of disappointments that I have faced as a child and the fact that I am overtly self-dependent leading to a severe lack of reliance on anyone else.

Why I must do this is quite clear, because expression definitely helps in healing, ‘self’ healing to be extremely precise since yet again I try to emerge as the one woman army that I have been functioning as for the past 2 decades or so.

Let’s commence the elaboration upon the ingredients, number one being my deep love for Pune. Back in the day ( 7 years ago to be exact ), I had just left my super cocooned life and come to the city of Pune with beautiful preconceived notions in my mind ( not being sarcastic at all here ). I had heard it was a cosmopolitan city, with a young and dynamic demographic, and upon realising that it was true,I had my 'yabadabadoo' moment. Year one turned out to be a mixed one where I shed a few tears in memory of the long foregone 'mollycoddling', but a series of awkward bonding activities and drinking sessions help me discover new people who were not so bad after all. By the second semester, I had fallen for the new territory and I knew the fall was hard. Festivals and birthdays no longer seemed important enugh to book a flight back home, phone bills suddenly went low and the little Alice in me finally felt a sense of belonging in the big bad world. Six years later there was a natural progression of my feelings, quite a rare phenomenon, and I knew in my heart if it was anywhere that I could get a minuscule amount of peace, it was here. Elaborating upon the magnificent surprise that Pune turned out to be is another story for another day, but to sum up it was the place where I found some of my best friends, where I discovered facets to my own personality which were hidden under layers of consciousness, lost some very important things and gained things which have now become integral to my existence.

The second ingredient is actually a distant family relative of the third ingredient. My transformation to a control freak happened when I was a child. Perceiving the family adults as the ones who were always on top of their game led me to push myself and compete with the world, to seldom give myself the credit and more often beat myself down for not having emerged as top of the class just like the others did. Little did I know that my heroes were just as broken as an average human being, and the fact that they had their own set of flaws came as a tough reality check to me. By that time it was too late and the 'competitive' gene had developed abnormally to transform me into this person who just had to perform well, and stressing out was the only way to achieve. Failure WAS NOT AN OPTION, because nothing below 90% was ever acceptable. The following guidelines defined me as a teenager and in the most rebellious phase of human existence, I spent time schooling myself to become the geometric shape that everybody applauded as opposed to the abstract art piece I was born as. 

-TRY AND TRY UNTIL YOU SUCCEED
-THE INTELLIGENT ACHIEVE JUST BY PERCEIVING SIGNS
-THE AVERAGE ARE SHUNNED BY SOCIETY AND SOCIETY IS THE KING OF THE CASTLE
- THE GOOD REMAIN PURE EVEN WHEN TESTED BY TIMES, PEOPLE AND TEMPTATION
- WE ALL MUST LOVE GOD ( Only the Hindu ones ) AND HIS WILL TRANSLATES TO CUSTOMS AND TRADITIONS

There were more, but I have clearly let go of some and my healing process has thankfully begun.

The third ingredient is something, which I can't fully understand because I don't know who invented it or who is to be held responsible for it. Having a single mother who took her own natural time to get over her tween wounds did not pave a very smooth path for me as a child. Her healing process was of utmost importance, and that meant all my emotions; feelings; thoughts; questions had to be suppressed because she took precedence over me, always. I loved her and all I wanted was to help her be happy. Each outing which resulted in a cancellation of plans led to severe disappointment internally, which was never ever vented out. Each festival where the neighbours and their children celebrated with a lot of gusto was sometimes acknowledged with howls and fights in our house. I can remember being very confused, and distracting myself with my drawing book and colors.

The fourth ingredient, very interestingly, is a combination of the second and the third factor. In Pune I realised that I could be happy, it was possible and I then began my journey of absolute self reliance. Starting with scouting for houses, shifting in, finding suitable boys, looking for job opportunities, getting admission in universities, calculating monthly expenses to shifting cities, figuring out the way of life in the concrete jungle called Bombay, finding a new job here, struggling to feel complacent, nursing one's own fracture and last but not the least dealing with cops for an elongated period of almost 30 days was all a one woman job. I was alive, and as the saying goes I was stronger, almost metallic.

Today when I look back, there are so many things that haven't received closure, a 'must-do' according to most movies that I watch. While in most situations I have found distractions, I failed to notice how this subconsciously turned me to an escapist. While I was running away from most things, looking to find a better place which would be as satisfying and delightful as Pune had turned out to be exhausting. My face had aged, my soul had broken down and my body had become thin.

I know I have gone through a lot, and it is now that I am finally finding peace with the person that I am. At this age, I have come to accept myself the way I am, with my twisted traits and psychotic thoughts. For the very first time in my life, I have finally started putting myself first before anything or anyone else ( this happened a month back ). While the people who have been the latest additions to my life may feel it's a tad selfish, what I have learnt till now is the following-

- IT'S ONLY A BIG DEAL IF YOU MAKE ONE OUT OF IT
- THOSE WHO MATTER DONT MIND AND THOSE WHO MIND DONT MATTER
- THE HIGHER YOU GO, THE MORE LONELY YOU SHALL BE
- MUSIC IS THE TRUE ESSENCE OF LIFE
- IF YOU CAN FIND JUST ONE PERSON IN THE WORLD WHO GETS YOU, YOU ARE HOME

So here I am, in a pickle yet again to understand what I can do to make things better ( a battle I love to wage on a daily basis ). While I write my own destiny and define my own Universe, I have decided to let go of NONE of my traits. I shall be as beautifully flawed as I am, stubborn to the point of challenging the most patient human being, as blunt as this life has been to me, as child like as I was at kindergarten and as brave as my grandmother taught me to be. I will laugh with my wide jaw, let my frizzy hair fly with the wind, drink and make merry to forget everything the next day, and jump with joy upon conquering the corporate world one day.

Happiness has become an obligation and needless to say the conformist in me MUST OBLIGE !

The State of Complacence

On one of my pensive sprees that random thoughts trigger me towards, I had an interesting conversation about ‘complacence’ a while back. What activated the conversation was a question which was defining in nature, very focused on boundaries. It aimed directly at placing ‘complacence’ within the boundaries of right and wrong.

Complacency

noun: complacence

a feeling of smug or uncritical satisfaction with oneself or one's achievements

While most conversations which drive emotional reactions can be safely called subjective, what I failed to understand was the consequences of complacence. The state seemed very comfortable, a place where one is satisfied with one’s own being and achievements. Satisfaction directly relates to a feeling of being without anxiety in a general landscape- if you are satisfied, you are at ease aren’t you?
However, in my last few months of working at this place, I have been thoroughly observant of the ecosystem, leading me to be very impressed with our head honcho. Hence one of the conversations I had with her just made me distance myself from ‘complacence’- the comfortable place. I remember her introducing the company to me, which she had built from scratch over the last 6 years. She said she never wanted to become one of the giants, the big players become ‘too complacent’ she emphasised and lose their hunger.
I remember a few things very precisely in my life, maybe those are the most impactful moments which shape and mold my personality with the passage of time. The above incident left me feeling hungry, and the thought of not becoming complacent somehow subconsciously seeped into my mind. What puzzled me a few days back, was remembering how I was quite complacent a few years back, and how being so comfortable in my complacence brought me so much mental peace. I remember living a cocoon life, and restricting all of my touch points with reality to the least minimum. College life until a certain part was filled with crystal clear smoke, each puff defining a path rebellious and unprecedented. Being fooled by the clarity was perhaps an error, clarity never remains, its beauty becomes multifold as escapism becomes its second name.
Was complacence a peaceful state? Was it an ignorant one too? Was it a fertile place? My mind was boggled by the blurry and fluid nature of complacence. It somehow seemed like I had been chasing a settled state of mind for long, but I was quite ignorant of its side effects. In the absence of complacence, my mind raised a storm of thoughts wild and destructive, questioning the lack of definition or direction, making every action seem independent and random. I would feel restless, and gradually and in-evidently, being restless became a ‘normal/usual’ state of being. When behavioural changes take place, almost always does it happen in an unnoticeable manner to the host.
What makes this entire thought a chain is the fact that every feeling ( stress or complacence ) must not be defined within a ‘right’ or a ‘wrong’. Feeling either is not something to worry about as long as it does not impact one’s life in a major way. While self-counselling mostly comes to practice during these panic struck epiphanies, what also helps is the fact that come hell or high water, one must aim at forward movement. Complacent or not, stressed or not, forward movement must continue without stagnation becoming synonymous to either. One can be complacent and still move forward with an equilibrium of the inner being, and one can be overwhelmed by stress and still move forward in an undefined yet consistent manner. So it kind of boils down to this one statement- the comfort zone is a beautiful place, but nothing grows there.

Suppressed words

In each of us burns a fire; strong, deep and bright which serves as the driving force of life. Suppression, incessant and repetitive, is a feeling of your inner fire being slowly but noticeably getting wiped out. Is it the calm before the mighty storm, or is it the silence after the fire has consumed and burned down one’s being from the inside?

I like to believe every boy who ever came into my life, left with a impactful gift. Maybe it’s just me trying to focus only at the silver lining real hard, and maybe it’s just the spree of gratitude that I have suddenly decided to embark upon.

My very first crush in school was the vocalist of a boy band with the highly sexy initials of RA. While I clearly and smoothly fell into the bracket of clichéd teen girls, I felt myself being overtaken by an overwhelming feeling. To me the feeling was love, which it clearly wasn’t- a realisation 100% clear by now. The idea of infatuation and of the chase of something almost unattainable was a romanticised one. Life felt like a movie, where sequences were emotionally and 'hormonally' charged.

I like to believe RA exited my life, giving me the gift of rock. With the coming in and passage of his presence, I discovered introspection. Teenage angst coupled with feelings close to love was the perfect combination to make me delve deep, into a pool I was just experiencing for the very first time. While anthems of Linkin Park, Three days grace, 3 doors down, Nickelback, Green Day and Slipknot became the rush giving substances, the iPod succeeded the Walkman and helped me continue my newfound addiction. As RA slowly became devoid of my mental space, the genre latched onto me like nothing ever before. Maybe Matt Walst was voicing my inner feelings, feelings which had become used to suppression and lack of acknowledgement. Hearing the loud sounds was like a release, each drum beat a hit, each guitar string echoing wails of helplessness, each head bang a united cry of all souls sad and broken by their troubled teenage. The rock bands probably instilled us with something we had been craving all this while, but had no idea how to instil and conquer. They gave us power to know and understand what freedom and expression meant, the rebels in us had started a mental mosh pit already, getting rid of all that was inside.

To this day, almost 10 years later, I find myself returning to my world of rock music, closing the mild sounds of the world outside, and concentrating on the sounds banging at the doors of my eardrum. Music has not only helped me create my fool’s paradise, it has helped me say and convey many things which the tongue has failed to. My best bet in life till date is my word, and even my best bet has failed me sometimes, falling prey to deaf audiences. My word is my weapon, my word is my shield, my word is my cocoon, my word is my offering.

I would like to quote my younger and troubled self to conclude- I stopped talking because no one was listening, I started writing because maybe someday someone would read. 

The Pupil’s Wandering Thoughts

As a child when one is brought up in a very conventional way, listening to morning prayers by the house elders, learning about morals and manners at kindergarten, going to the best educational institutes to imbibe the best that books have to offer, it seems like it’s all a preparation for a smooth life ahead.

Teachers repeatedly tell their beloved pupils- all must be kind, all must be giving, all must be grateful and polite. Being in a convent throughout my school life just meant that all those lessons were imparted at a deeper level by teachers and nuns whose thought process was as pure and pious as the Virgin Mary herself. “Sharing is good, waiting for your turn is must, and being truthful is everyone’s calling in life”. The teachings became pillars of strength for the future, the biggest support coming in the form of words, “ The Universe is just, and as my heart breaks into pieces, the Universe is taking care of me”.

Skip to 15 years later, the same pupil with a tag stating she’s an adult, in the big bad city trying to understand where the people around are from and where they have imbibed their values from.  It seems like everybody is impatient, everybody is out there for the upper hand and no one knows what kindness or gratitude is. The pupil tells herself, “The world is big, the people are many in number and diversity is beautiful. Not everyone comes from the same place and the same school as her, it’s natural and realistic.” The same logic is reiterated with every introspection that happens in the next few years, at least five to six times a day. Life goes on, she is still breathing and care has thus been taken.

Then comes a day comes where she feels cheated, she is unprepared for what the world has to offer, her cocoon seems far-far away from where she is, and the voices of her teachers echo in her mind, “Be kind, be grateful, be truthful”. The others seem to be so alien, so strange to her ways and the world she belongs to, a feeling of being alone is experienced for the very first time. During childhood, looking up to her elders for taking lead was a reflex, where each time they have all come and wrapped her around in a warm blanket of familiarity, protective boundaries and walls of defense so high that even the world’s biggest disasters seemed miniscule. Today she looks around in all directions, knowing very well that her heroes are not around, some lost in ashes in time, but still desperate to hold on to even a little piece of the same familiarity which she may stumble upon by luck. Where is the Lord’s mighty hand, I need it she thinks, Holy is His name, His kingdom cometh, His will is being done on Earth as it is in Heaven. Will I be given my daily bread; will I be forgiven for my sins as I forgive all who sin against me? My Dear Father, will I be delivered off all the evil?

The Universe is generous, what goes around, comes back to us and if our palms are open spreading love to all, will we get the love back? The pupil who’s now an adult thinks of her father for the very first time, where is he , would he protect me, would he be my savior today? The pupil wishes to wage a war against the ashes that have stolen her elders, where is my Grandfather she asks, is he around? I know he is, the winds and waters tell me so. The pupil seems stuck in a place where going forth or coming back doesn’t seem like an option, independence of thoughts and actions seems far away where she can’t reach and going back is not realistic the home she misses is no longer a home. The sharp mind often gets caught in a siege laid by its own existence.

Celebrating Independence the Millennial Way

It’s been almost 70 years since the nation was set free of the rule of Britishers and we have since enjoyed the term and celebrations that have come along with it. What continues to still perplex my senses is the fact that the word ‘independence’ holds different meanings to different people, especially in a colorful nation as ours. The interpretations go much beyond the three colors which compose the flag, stretching from literal to philosophical to ethereal to experiential and beyond.

What is true freedom/independence?

I grew up seeing Independence Day as being synonymous to flag hoisting both at school and at home. The school ceremony also involved skits each year where senior students would enact the story of freedom fighters, which the teachers hoped would instil us with love and pride for the nation. We also had a marching competition among the four different houses yellow; red; green and blue, ending with a prize ceremony for the excellently done march by the respective house.

At home, we would sometimes take part in the talent competitions that would be organised by the colony heads, comprising of art; elocution and poetry where each child would show utmost enthusiasm and a zest to win. As I delve deep to understand the kind of emotion the aforesaid filled me with, I am a little confused. Yes I was educated well about the turn of events as it took place, knowing about the heroes and their sacrifices, but I do not think there was more to it back then. Well yes, it was not possible for me at 12 to understand and think of independence as freedom the way that I am thinking of it now at the double figured age.

Today, to the millennial mindset, freedom means so much, beginning with embracing one’s own self in the weird moulded shape that we are, along with embracing the others in their true evolutionary manner as well. The digital media to most provides a liberty to express and impress and get rid of our distress, the keypad making us all feel like warriors in a textual world. Freedom includes understanding what the constitution has granted each one of us- freedom of expression & speech; of assembly without arms; of forming associations; of moving freely throughout or Indian territory; of residing anywhere and of practicing any profession. Once the understanding comes, acceptance and interpretation follow and then comes the practice.

Our generation struggles with so much, most of it with our own kind, the previous generations to whom we seem utterly rebellious and non-conforming. As the generation gap widens, we see the beauty in difference and they see the distance growing bigger, scaring them of what lies beyond the narrow limits within which they have lived their entire lifetime. We the explorers trying to discover the unknown, our thoughts wandering off the edges of the world; our dreams coming alive in a parallel universe and our souls mating in kaleidoscopic dimensions. The taboos of the older times have become the bible of some today, the unsaid or curtailed from before has now become a popular topic of debate and what scared earlier has now become worth sharing only to pave paths of growth for future.

As we gradually move forward, in our mundane lives, almost unnoticeably we millennials are bringing about a revolution. We are coming out in the open, honestly displaying the many colors beyond the black and white, craving more and pushing ourselves to achieve that and creating new meanings to terms like independence and happiness that were once perhaps only flat and 2D in nature.  We are asking questions, unafraid of the answers, getting hurt and standing up again, and yet going on unperturbed because that is what liberty is.  The freedom to move on or stop, the freedom to choose, to be there for ourselves and each other, to be vocal and let go, to get angry and tear down monuments of stone, to be ecstatic and build castles of candy and believe that everything is possible.

We are not idealists, we know how the world has functioned in the past, we are just people who believe it’s not too late to create one of our own and escape sometimes. We are travellers, traversing and creating stories of our own, not giving up but trying to create something as close to Utopia as possible, with the knowledge that Utopia is a fantasy.

Weekend getaways, flower bands during gigs, tattooed hearts and our lives in poetry are what make us today’s millennials – free to celebrate who we are. We are afraid sometimes, and we do break down, we laugh until our heads spin and we always do is- GO ON !

So here’s wishing everyone a very Happy Independence Day ! Power to all who are one of the aforesaid, celebrate your freedom and go on doing what you are, it's unique and beautiful and free just the way it's meant to be.