Mid-life Crisis or Chutzpah?

I don’t know if it’s because I’m nearing forty and have many friends in the same age group, that the term mid-life crisis keeps popping up in many conversations I’ve been part of. Whether it’s watching Kevin Spacey’s brilliant portrayal of a forty-two-year-old American going through mid-life crisis in the movie American Beauty, in a recent weekend movie binge, or accidentally looking at the wallpaper on a friend’s computer (image of a Harley-mounted silver-haired 40-something man riding off into the sunset with a younger partner), my friend himself being above forty, that got me thinking about this crisis or change that I may probably experience.

After a short introspection that lasted for about two minutes, I couldn’t help but laugh out loud at the thought that I may experience anything like this. Let me tell you why. I’m a moderately good-looking woman raised in a fairly forward thinking family. Yet, knowingly or unknowingly, I was raised in a bubble, a world of privilege especially attributed to my good looks. Everyone around me made me believe that if I’m this good looking I could be a frontrunner at anything I attempted, be it 800m running race, glass painting or acing math tests. Believing this made me good at somethings but, oh boy, imagine my shock when my drawing of human brain in biology class looked like a plate full of spaghetti, or when I couldn’t hit an ace the first time I played tennis. For most part of my teenage years and well into early adult life, most decisions that I made were rooted in vanity.

When I see others going through the same bubbled existence for one reason or the other especially in today’s digital world, I keep thinking how old should one be for the brain to mature to a level to acknowledge the reality about one’s abilities and life and make peace with it. Like a hitchhiker in the galaxy, I was looking for an exact number for an answer and voila, it is thirty years or somewhere close. There exists quite a brood of others who get there faster as well. May be mid-life crisis is for them.

After dilly-dallying in the bubble for long and eventually facing reality and standing up to it thanks to some wise company that started showing up in my life, I can only say that life has gotten much better in the last few years. I, being a creature of habit, do sometimes still think that I can be a great singer or one day become a Nobel prize winning author or become as tall and thin like Shilpa Shetty. I don’t dwell in this bubble long though. For me it’s not mid-life crisis, it’s mid-life chutzpah. Well for the most part, I’m ready to see it as is and grow from here on and walk into that sunset with grace, rooted in reality. 

Comicosphere

Comicosphere

The Office Delivery

It was an ordinary day at work. I reached office around 8:30 in the morning after the tiring long journey from the place I lived to the place I worked. As usual, I set my huge bag filled with food for the whole day, on the table. I then turned the page in my Dilbert calendar to today's date. With a long sigh I counted the number of days left for me to go on maternity leave. Well, there is a whole week stretched ahead. I sat on my swivel chair and opened my mail. There were a number of mails from our on site coordinator which needed immediate follow up. Soon, I got caught up in work. It was one pm when I looked up the time. The gang with whom I lunched were waiting for me in the hall way. We went to a cafeteria bustling with people. We couldn't find a table which could seat all of us. We had to wait for somebody to leave. We kept waiting patiently, talking about happenings at our respective homes the previous evening.

It took about fifteen minutes for us to get seated. I was exhausted from the standing and all the din in the room. I could feel a slight shooting pain in my pelvic region. I assumed that the tiredness would have caused it. We shared our meal and talked about different things- movies, books, colleagues :) It was almost 2 when we went back to our cubicles. I was a bit overwhelmed from the heavy meal. I felt like taking a little siesta, but our office building did not have a nap room per se :) I could feel the pain again and again coming back at regular intervals. Could it be labor pain? Nay! There was almost a month for my due date. I had decided to work till the end of 36th week to save upon on my maternity leave. I thought I would take a short walk and then the pain would go away.

I walked on the corridor outside our bay for sometime. I started feeling better and got in. It was almost 3. I had plenty of work to do before calling it a day. I plunged myself in work for almost two hours. My back started hurting badly when I realized that it was almost 5. I had worked for two hours at a stretch. I had to go to the restroom. I got up and started walking out the door when I felt a moist feeling on my churidhar. I rushed to the loo when I realized that my water had broken! And that I was feeling contractions and the labor had already started.

I felt a cold shiver from fear and the sheer unexpectedness of the whole thing. It was my first pregnancy. I did not know what to do. I stood leaning on the wall for a moment to assess the whole situation. There were tears in my eyes. My hands were shivering. I took out my mobile and contemplated whom to call at that time. I started picturing the scenes that were to follow. There would be total chaos. I took a deep breath and started browsing the numbers and made up my mind to call Girija who was a manager in our team who recently had a baby. There was no point calling my husband at this time. I needed help immediately. I started the conversation with much hesitation, but felt at ease by the end of it. It was not like I had planned for it.

Girija came running to the restroom. She asked what had happened and I told her that I was in labor. She asked me to come out. She had brought with her the lady who was in charge of cleaning our floor in the building. They asked me to walk slowly out of the room. Meanwhile Girija informed the center head of our team Mr. Hariram of the happenings. They immediately called for an ambulance. My immediate team and manager were informed about the situation and in minutes the whole floor caught wind of the news. I was taken to one of the conference rooms which had no see-through panels. Couple of lady colleagues who were experienced in this area :) were brought in to help me. I was huffing and puffing from embarrassment and pain.

One of my closest friends in the team meanwhile had called my mother and my husband and conveyed the news. They were on their way. But it would take at least an hour and a half for them to reach my office at this peak traffic hour. While I was lost in thoughts and pain, Girija came and informed me that a doctor had been brought to check up on me. The doctor came in and asked everybody else to wait outside. I was asked to lie on the floor. The doctor assisted me. She checked my condition and told me that I was already in labor and there was no time for me to be taken to a hospital. I was sobbing quietly. She told me things would be alright and that she was there to help me. I silently prayed in my mind for my mother to reach there pretty fast.

I could vaguely remember the rest of happenings. A soft cotton bed was spread on the floor of the conference hall. Sheets were spread on it. Hot water and plenty of towels and other things were brought in. Girija was standing next to me holding my hand. The doctor was examining me. After about ten minutes the doctor asked me to start pushing. I prayed out loud this time and gave it my first try. I felt exhausted and tried it again and again all the while Girija held my hand.

It felt like eternity before I heard the cry of my baby. I had almost passed out from exhaustion. I heard "wows" outside the conference room. The doctor was cleaning up the baby. She told me that it was a baby boy. I could hardly get up. She took the baby out of the conference room to the big crowd that was waiting outside. She handed the baby over to Mr.Hariram. I was told that my family was not there yet and they were about to reach pretty soon.

What followed was quite a bit to say. My husband and mother reached my office in another half hour. This time they could get in with out the temporary security badges. They were elated to see the baby after all the anxiety they had to go through. I and the baby were taken to a hospital in ambulance. My husband kissed me on the forehead and said everything was alright.

Well, my child birth story was the first of its kind in Bangalore where I lived. The story had made headlines in the local newspapers in the days that followed. I had hoards of people visit me in the hospital. There were many reporters who wanted to hear the story from me directly. My husband had to keep vigil outside my room all the time to make sure I got rest. Me and my newborn had become accidental news makers :) Among the visitors were our Managing Director who happened to be in town for a conference during the time. I did not it was him until my husband introduced him to me. I was taken aback by surprise. He handed me a bouquet of flowers and quipped that I ought to name my son after the organization.

Well, all is well that ends well.

PS: This is not a true story. Names of characters have been changed to respect their privacy :)Well, I am pregnant and am in my last trimester of pregnancy. I am still working. This was just a nightmare I had the previous night. My friends had a ball when they heard about it. One of them mentioned I should blog about this and hence.....

The ever enchanting bliss of poetry

Ain’t it a heaven to curl up on a sofa (or hammock even better) and read some good old poem? There’s nothing that is more nostalgic than reading good old poems that we used to by heart in school, with grudge :) Well, most of the kids today would think that as really boring. Leave poems; it is hard to get them to read a book even. May be it is the generation gap :) But I am sure all those who had to memorize Keats and Wordsworth in their schools, cribbing about them that time, would sure be missing them this time around. Recently, I was trying to recollect all the ones I learned at school. Found a bunch of them. When u read them now, they seem all the more meaningful and beautiful. Here are a few of my all time favorites. Some are obvious choices, but still I like them-

1. W. Shakespeare – Sonnet 18

This is the most beautiful verse anyone can write in admiration of anyone. This has always been on the top of my list. Will sure is a lady magnet J. Whenever I read this, I think “whatever happened to the good old times when men wrote beautiful poems about their lady loves”. I can’t even get my husband to open the car door for me always :) Anyways….here it is…

Shall I compare thee to a summer's day?

Thou art more lovely and more temperate.

Rough winds do shake the darling buds of May,

And summer's lease hath all too short a date.

Sometime too hot the eye of heaven shines,

And often is his gold complexion dimmed;

And every fair from fair sometime declines,

By chance, or nature's changing course untrimmed.

But thy eternal summer shall not fade

Nor lose possession of that fair thou ow'st;

Nor shall death brag thou wand'rest in his shade,

When in eternal lines to time thou grow'st,

So long as men can breathe or eyes can see,

So long lives this, and this gives life to thee.

2. W. Wordsworth – Daffodils

Daffodils always remind me that we should take time to enjoy the beautiful often ignored things in life. It’s a beautifully written poem on the flowers daffodils and the happiness that their company brings to the poet.

I WANDER'D lonely as a cloud
That floats on high o'er vales and hills,
When all at once I saw a crowd,
A host, of golden daffodils;
Beside the lake, beneath the trees,
Fluttering and dancing in the breeze.

Continuous as the stars that shine
And twinkle on the Milky Way,
They stretch'd in never-ending line
Along the margin of a bay:
Ten thousand saw I at a glance,
Tossing their heads in sprightly dance.

The waves beside them danced; but they
Out-did the sparkling waves in glee:
A poet could not but be gay,
In such a jocund company:
gazed -- and gazed -- but little thought
What wealth the show to me had brought:

For oft, when on my couch I lie
In vacant or in pensive mood,
They flash upon that inward eye
Which is the bliss of solitude;
And then my heart with pleasure fills,
And dances with the daffodils.

3. John Hay - The Enchanted Shirt

The Enchanted shirt never fails to enchant me. It a very clever, sarcastic and funny poem. It is an inspirational poem too because I am a big time cribber :) Read on and you will understand why it is inspirational -

Fytte the First: wherein it shall be shown how the Truth is too mighty a Drug for such as be of feeble temper

The King was sick. His cheek was red
And his eye was clear and bright;
He ate and drank with a kingly zest,
And peacefully snored at night.

But he said he was sick, and a king should know,
And doctors came by the score.
They did not cure him. He cut off their heads
And sent to the schools for more.

At last two famous doctors came,
And one was as poor as a rat,
He had passed his life in studious toil,
And never found time to grow fat.

The other had never looked in a book;
His patients gave him no trouble,
If they recovered they paid him well,
If they died their heirs paid double.

Together they looked at the royal tongue,
As the King on his couch reclined;
In succession they thumped his august chest,
But no trace of disease could find.

The old sage said, "You're as sound as a nut."
"Hang him up," roared the King in a gale,
In a ten-knot gale of royal rage;
The other leech grew a shade pale;

But he pensively rubbed his sagacious nose,
And thus his prescription ran,
The King will be well,
if he sleeps one night in the Shirt of a Happy Man.

Fytte the Second: tells of the search for the Shirt and how it was nigh found but was not, for reasons which are said or sung

Wide o'er the realm the couriers rode,
And fast their horses ran,
And many they saw, and to many they spoke,
But they found no Happy Man.

They found poor men who would fain be rich,
And rich who thought they were poor;
And men who twisted their waists in stays,
And women that shorthose wore.

They saw two men by the roadside sit,
And both bemoaned their lot;
For one had buried his wife, he said,
And the other one had not.

At last as they came to a village gate,
A beggar lay whistling there;
He whistled and sang and laughed and rolled
On the grass in the soft June air.

The weary couriers paused and looked
At the scamp so blithe and gay;
And one of them said,
"Heaven save you, friend! You seem to be happy to-day."

"Oh, yes, fair sirs," the rascal laughed,
And his voice rang free and glad,
"An idle man has so much to do
That he never has time to be sad."

"This is our man," the courier said;
"Our luck has led us aright.
I will give you a hundred ducats, friend,
For the loan of your shirt to-night."

The merry blackguard lay back on the grass,
And laughed till his face was black;
"I would do it, God wot," and he roared with the fun,
"But I haven't a shirt to my back."

Fytte the Third: shewing how His Majesty the King came at last to sleep in a Happy Man his Shirt

Each day to the King the reports came in
Of his unsuccessful spies,
And the sad panorama of human woes
Passed daily under his eyes.

And he grew ashamed of his useless life,
And his maladies hatched in gloom;
He opened his windows
and let the air Of the free heaven into his room.

And out he went in the world
and toiled In his own appointed way;
And the people blessed him, the land was glad,
And the King was well and gay.

4. Robert Frost - The Road Not Taken, Stopping By Woods on a Snowy Evening

I couldn’t pick one out of two of Frost’s poems. So am putting them both down. Both are fantastic and make you think and dare you to make different and bold decisions.

The Road not Taken

Two roads diverged in a yellow wood,
And sorry I could not travel both
And be one traveler, long I stood
And looked down one as far as I could

To where it bent in the undergrowth;
Then took the other, as just as fair,
And having perhaps the better claim,
Because it was grassy and wanted wear;

Though as for that, the passing there
Had worn them really about the same,
And both that morning equally lay
In leaves no step had trodden black.

Oh, I kept the first for another day!
Yet knowing how way leads on to way,
I doubted if I should ever come back.
I shall be telling this with a sigh

Somewhere ages and ages hence:
Two roads diverged in a wood, and I—
I took the one less traveled by,
And that has made all the difference.

Stopping By Woods on a Snowy Evening

Whose woods these are I think I know.
His house is in the village though;
He will not see me stopping here
To watch his woods fill up with snow.

My little horse must think it queer
To stop without a farmhouse near
Between the woods and frozen lake
The darkest evening of the year.

He gives his harness bells a shake
To ask if there is some mistake.
The only other sound’s the sweep
Of easy wind and downy flake.

The woods are lovely, dark and deep.
But I have promises to keep,
And miles to go before I sleep,
And miles to go before I sleep.

5. Rudyard Kipling – If

This is also a very inspirational poem. I had a plaque that had selected lines of this poem that hung in my room when I was in my school.


If you can keep your head when all about you
Are losing theirs and blaming it on you,
If you can trust yourself when all men doubt you
But make allowance for their doubting too,I
f you can wait and not be tired by waiting,
Or being lied about, don't deal in lies,
Or being hated, don't give way to hating,
And yet don't look too good, nor talk too wise:

If you can dream--and not make dreams your master,
If you can think--and not make thoughts your aim;
If you can meet with Triumph and Disaster
And treat those two impostors just the same;
If you can bear to hear the truth you've spoken
Twisted by knaves to make a trap for fools,
Or watch the things you gave your life to, broken,
And stoop and build 'em up with worn-out tools:

If you can make one heap of all your winnings
And risk it all on one turn of pitch-and-toss,
And lose, and start again at your beginnings
And never breath a word about your loss;
If you can force your heart and nerve and sinew
To serve your turn long after they are gone,
And so hold on when there is nothing in you
Except the Will which says to them: "Hold on!"

If you can talk with crowds and keep your virtue,
Or walk with kings--nor lose the common touch,
If neither foes nor loving friends can hurt you;
If all men count with you, but none too much,
If you can fill the unforgiving minute
With sixty seconds' worth of distance run,
Yours is the Earth and everything that's in it,
And--which is more--you'll be a Man, my son!

Well the list goes on… There’s some more in the list like Keats’s “La Belle Dame Sans Mercy”, Byron’s “She walks like a beauty”, some of translated works like Ommar Khayyam’s Rubaiyat, Tagore’s “The Gardener”. Well, enjoy these beauties while you can…