A Few Good Men

"To be called a daughter...that's the biggest honour a girl ever
receives, even if it is from a stranger."

My father.A coach. Two or three uncles. A professor in one city. One more in another. A neighbour. The list is not endless, but it is impressive, at least in my eyes.

They understand me for who I am. Understand that while I am ‘officially’ nineteen, I am also thirty-five, and at time even five. Understand that I need a semblance of order in chaos. That I need periodic confirmation that my beloved ideas and ideals,do hold true.

It is from them that I learnt that respect is not demanded, it is commanded. That men can be gods, and even the gods are not infallible. That we do not stop dreaming even if the dreams do not come true. That honesty, integrity and honour may go out of fashion, but will never go out of favour among people who really understand the world.

I learnt that that there is greatness in the everyday work, beauty in the plainest face, wisdom in the strangest of places and a story behind every person. I learnt that everything happens for a reason, even though we may not understand it right away. That the world works in ways you and I know nothing of.

I learnt to have faith. In me, and in those around me.

I learnt to listen, because I got listened to.
I learnt to see people for what they are, not what they have.
I learnt to value opinions, because mine were valued.
I learnt to stop complaining, because I saw greater burdens cheerfully carried.
I learnt to believe in miracles, because I saw them refuse to acknowledge life any other way.

I learnt that success can have many forms. That a quiet “well-done” can mean more than all the marks in the world. That the good opinion of honest people is as satisfyingly earned as the shiniest of medals.  That laying up blessings instead of money is a rewarding investment.

I learnt that no matter what the world tries to convince otherwise, at the end of the day the only person answerable for me, is me.

It didn’t matter where they were from. It didn’t matter that they were busy, or it was simply not their job. It didn’t matter that I haven’t been able to give them anything in return, except perhaps reverence.

If kindness could kill, I would have been long dead by now, many times over. Each of them was inexplicably kind, each in his own style. Not because they had to, not because they needed to. But simply because they could. That’s one more thing that I learnt.

And most importantly, I learnt that no matter how full the world is of jackals and jackasses, there still will be a few good men. To know, revere and work under some of them, has been a delight and an honour. To be their “little girl” is a privilege. So to all those who prove that the race of father-figures is not dead, thank you, and wish you a very happy Fathers’ Day.

Dedicated to all those father figures who have made me who I am today, and who will always be there for me, no matter what road I walk on.

Don't We All

The woman parked in front of the mall, wiping off her car. She had just come from the car wash and was waiting for her friend to get out of work. Coming her way from across the parking lot was what society would consider a bum. From the looks of him, he had no car, no home, no clean clothes, and no money.

There are times when you feel generous but there are other times that you just don't want to be bothered. For him, it was one of those "I don't want to be bothered times." "I hope he doesn't ask me for any money," she thought. He didn't. He came and sat on the curb in front of the bus stop but he didn't look like he had enough money to even ride the bus. 


After a few minutes he spoke. "That's a very pretty car," he said. He was ragged but he had an air of dignity around him. His scraggly blond beard kept more than his face warm. She said, "thanks," and continued sitting quietly inside the car. He sat there quietly too. The expected plea for money never came. As the silence between them widened, something inside her said, "Ask him if he needs any help." She was sure that he would say "yes" but still she yielded to the inner voice. 


"Do you need any help?" she asked. 


He answered in three simple but profound words. She had expected nothing but an outstretched grimy hand, instead, he spoke the three words that shook her (and me, when I first read this story)
 
"Don't we all?" he said. 


We feel high and mighty, successful and important, above the bums in the street. Until someone reminds us those three words. Don't we all? We all need help. Maybe not for bus fare or a place to sleep, but we still do need help. She reached into her wallet and gave him not only enough for bus fare, but enough to get a warm meal and shelter for the day. 


We often look for wisdom in great men and women. We expect it from those of higher learning and accomplishments.But sometimes we stumble upon the most profound of thoughts from the most unexpected of sources.Five years after I heard this story from our school janitor, those three little words still ring true.

The Story of Moths

Moths never arouse in us the same feeling of happiness as butterflies do, do they? And why so? Because they are plain, and grey and brown, and do not look pretty. Right? Here is a story about moths that I read long back and has stayed with me ever since.

Moths are the most beautiful animals in the animal kingdom. At one time they were more colourful than the butterflies. They have always been helpful, kind, and generous creatures. One day the angels up in heaven were crying. They were sad because it was cloudy and they couldn’t look down upon the people on earth. Their tears fell down to the earth as rain. The sweet little moths hated to see everyone so sad. They decided to make a rainbow. The moths figured that if they asked their cousins, the butterflies, to help, they could all give up just a little bit of their colours and they could make a beautiful rainbow. 

One of the littlest moths flew to ask the queen of the butterflies for help. The butterflies were too vain and selfish to give up any of their colours for neither the people nor the angels. So, the moths decided to try to make the rainbow themselves. They beat their wings very hard and the powder on them formed little clouds that the winds smoothed over like glass. Unfortunately, the rainbow wasn’t big enough so the moths kept giving a little more and a little more until the rainbow stretched all the way across the sky. They had given away all their colour except brown, which didn’t fit into their beautiful rainbow.

Now the once colourful moths were plain and brown. The angels up in heaven saw the rainbow, and became joyous. They smiled and the warmth of their smiles shown down on the earth as sunshine. The warm sunshine made the people on earth happy and they smiled, too. Now every time it rains the baby moths, who still have their colours, spread them across the sky to make more rainbows. 

There are many moths around us, who do there bit to make others’ lives colourful, and never ask for anything in return. We, on our part, hardly notice them, until the helpful presence is gone and the small things that made the days pleasant add up and show the magnamity of the work done.

The plainest among us have the brightest of colours inside, and there are many who give it away to those whose days are dark. Remember it the next time, show your appreciation. And do the same for people around you. Add a little bit of colour to the lives of those around you, and you will find your own suffused with multitudinal hues.Thanks for stopping by, and see you again!

p.s. I have nothing against butterflies! but this story just warms my heart :-)

A small celebration

"The more you celebrate life, the more there is in life to celebrate."

And today, you celebrate.

Dance in the rain and sing in the shower. Skip stones and chase squirrels.

Play hopscotch on the pavement. Turn somersaults on the bed.

Get flowers. For yourself. For your best friend. For the girl in the flat above yours.

Smile at a stranger on the road. Say thank you to the cab driver.

Laugh at yourself. Never repeat mistakes. There are too many new ones to be made anyway.

Treat yourself to the double sundae that your diet does not allow. Buy the candy you haven’t had since 6^th grade. Try out the new Korean food shack at the street corner five blocks away.

The guy at work you find cute? Tell him. The weekend holiday you wanted to take? Get the tickets.

Feed the pigeons in the park. Adopt a stray. 

Dream. Don't just smile, grin. Ear to ear. Fall in love all over again.

Remember you can die a thousand times, but you live only once. And for one day, live to the fullest. One day, when you are not scared to make a fool of yourself, because no matter what other’s say, you are having fun. One day, where you keep aside the darkness and the hurt and pain and simply be happy.

You can go back to "normal" tomorrow. Or perhaps never again.

Let it be today. Today, that you celebrate yourself.

Celebrate that you are a limited-edition, one and only version of you. Celebrate that you are alive.

In this celebration called life, join in. Today. 

Making a Difference

Act as if what you do makes a difference.  It does.  

-William James 

 

The Starfish Thrower is a famous adaptation of a story written by American anthropologist and nature writer Loren Eiseley. I feel in love with the story ever since my father read it to me a long ten years back. Most of you probably know it already. But I can say from personal experience, this is one story where it does not matter if you have read it previously or not.

“One day, a man walking down a beach early in the morning, saw a human figure moving like a dancer. He smiled to himself at the thought of someone who would dance to the day, and so, he walked faster to catch up.

As he got closer, he noticed that the figure was that of another man, and that what he was doing was not dancing at all. The young man was reaching down to the shore, picking up small objects, and throwing them into the ocean.

He came closer still and called out "Good morning! May I ask what it is that you are doing?"

The man paused, looked up, and replied "Throwing starfish into the ocean."

"I must ask, then, why are you throwing starfish into the ocean?" he asked, somewhat startled.

"The sun is up and the tide is going out. If I don't throw them in, they'll die."

"But, do you not realize that there are miles and miles of beach and there are thousands of starfish all along every mile? Then there are beaches all over the world. You can't possibly make a difference!"

At this, the man bent down, picked up yet another starfish, and threw it into the ocean. As it sailed in one wide arc and met the water, he simply commented, "Well, it made a difference to that one."”

Every time I read it, I get new courage to move on in life. Because I understand what it means to make a difference to a life. I do not need to change the world. But if can positively affect a single person in my lifetime, in a way no one else could have, I think will die a happy person.

Touch someone’s life today. You never know how small a gesture can have how big an impact. Stay happy and thank you for stopping by. See you again! 

Passion

 Passion  /ˈpæʃən/ noun  strong feeling of enthusiasm or excitement for something or about doing something.

A learned friend recently gave me a Latin word to translate. Ardate. A little bit of thought lead me to the word ardent. And a little bit of research showed that I was pretty close. The Latin word root is ard, and ‘ardate’ literally translates as “to burn”.

As in to have passion. To be passionate.

Passion is to love something so much that it becomes a part of you. Something, which plays the rhythm of your heart beats and the music of your soul. It is something you will die for.

Passionate means you will live for it, as well.

Passion is something, which gives you heaven and hell in equal measure. Heaven, because it’s who you are. Hell, because you will always be left with an insatiable craving for more.

Passionate means to be unable to decide which is it, your sweetest dream or your worst nightmare.

Passion is to realise what you are passionate about. Then go out there and give your heart and soul to it.

Passionate means to know you can give some more when you have nothing else to give.

Passion is to live a lifetime in the space of a few moments. Because your passion is the reason for you existence. Not because you are the only one. Not because you are the best in it. But simply because you would not have been complete without it.

Passionate means to know neither would it have been complete without you.

Passion is to know that your number one enemy is Ridicule. And number two is You. It is to know that sometimes one and two can even swap places.

Passionate is to know how to ignore one of them, and reassure the other.

Passion is to realise that you are among a handful of blessed people lucky to have a passion. It is to realise that there is a majority who do not believe in passion, mainly because they don’t have one themselves.

Passionate to know that you can be simple with a passion, but you will be mediocre without one.

Passion is your shot at insanity in a world that is too cruelly sane.

Passion is to inspire others. And yourself.

Be passionate.

In Love

"Come, Philander, let us be a marching, Every one his true love a searching..."

                                                                   -Louisa May Alcott
An Old Fashioned Girl

A friend of mine is walking around dreamy-eyed. Yes, it’s the usual diagnosis. He’s is in love. Literally drowning in it. Well, almost. Considering the minor details such as he does not know whether the lady in question is even aware of his existence or not. And the fact that given his current state in the affairs (he blushes violently at the mention of her name), he will probably need a few shots from the bottle just to have enough courage to say hi to her.

Being “responsible” friends, we gave him a verbal douche bath. To bring him back to earth, we said. And to remind him of those small, afore mentioned details. I liked the way he took our words with infantile meekness, turned around, and went on mooning over “his girl” with undampened ardour. We gave up after 30 minutes of hearing him praise her. Actually, it was when she walked past our group lounging on the stairs, that we knew that we had lost the battle.

Looking at the beatific expression that that suffused his face suddenly made me realise a very hard fact. I miss being in love. I miss the heady feeling that comes with it. The automatic gut-wrench when the object of your admiration is near. My last encounter with this aspect of human emotions had not really been a great one. We had ended with a lot less love than what we had started out with and from then I had been on a self-imposed sabbatical from the pink-heart-shaped stuff. That is why perhaps it took me by surprise. The fact that I actually miss it, that is. The plans, the dreams (and the merciless ribbing, yes, that too!). The intricate designs and last minute change of routes just so you can catch a glimpse or have a word. I miss the utter silliness of it. I miss going around with a stupid grin on my face, as if the entire sunshine of existence is on my shoulders.  But most of all, I think I miss the fact that it takes you out of yourself into some other plane that people in love (like my friend right now) seem to exist in. The wonderful way it beautifies everything around you. The warm fuzzy feeling that seems to tell you, that everything’s all right with the world.

My friend is suddenly finding the April skies bluer than usual. For his sake, I hope that they don’t turn grey for a long, long time to come. For mine, I am kind of hoping my turn comes again, soon. Blue skies and pretty flowers or not, I just want to get back to the times when the world seems to revolve around a single person. And as of now, I must go and see to a hapless Romeo who wants to know how to ask a girl for her number.

(Oh, one more thing, when she passed us on the stairs, she waved, which solved the million dollar question on whether she knew that he existed or not.)

Stay in love, people, nothing beats it. In the meantime, stay happy. See you again!