Friends

I’m sure I have written about this earlier… but considering the depth of my literary exploits over the last decade or so, I can’t find one of this topic….

You know you have a good life when two things happen – one you are alive and two you are loved. Now the "being loved” bit may come across as some dopey theory that you would not expect – at least not from me. But in retrospect if you think of your life, no matter what your circumstances were, things were always ok when someone who loved you was there; just being themselves. And if you do reflect on your life and you mind fills with myriad images of when you experienced such love and kindness, then consider yourself lucky. You have a life worth living. So when I indulge on one of my guilt trips, which I have been doing quite often now a days, it is good to sit back and count my blessings.

I am a very loved person…. Now some may say that is a narcissistic thing to say. But I truly am. Just saying that makes me smile. Apart from the obvious people who should love me (but whose love I have never taken for granted) there are my friends. If you have known me long enough, you know that I don’t have many friends - could count all of them on the fingers of one hand and maybe even have a finger left over.

I, at some point used to be an introvert. Over the years profession and circumstances have turned me into an extrovert – at least visibly. I come across as a friendly person, easy to talk to, decent sense of humour – mostly self-depreciating, fun to hang around. But those who have stood by me through the years know that not much has changed over time. Most of my friendships are old - the oldest one is around 16 years old and the youngest one is around 4 years old. It’s those few who I depend on to pull me out of the depths of depression and self pity when it strikes. Friends with whom the barrier of time seem to lose significance. Connections which have been dormant for 7 years, 7 months, 7 weeks or 7 days…all get picked up where I last left it. I can literally start a conversation with these friends after months of total radio and email silence. No awkwardness, no searching for a topic, no dearth of topic, no tapering of conversations - even the silence is comfortable. Then there are the names.. you know they reserve that name only for you... chotta shakeel, mandu, babli, kutty; even the names are enough to conjure up happy images. Sometime the conversations are pure crap… shooting the breeze and still the cathartic effect  that it has on me is immense. The only reason for that being that the friend knows that I need to shoot breeze and if I had something to discuss I would – at my own time, at my own pace and at my own terms. They are just there for me. Sometimes it feels selfish. Do I do right by them as they do by me? I don’t know. Maybe I do and that’s why they still stick with me; or maybe I don’t and they stick with me inspite of that. That’s what friendship is all about, right.

I have been separated from each of my friends at differnet points of life. Life just happened – circumstances changed, events occurred, time passed and people moved. At each instance, the pain of not being able to see them each day, meet them, talk to them face to face, share food with them and most importantly not being able to hug them – it’s just as unbearable as the pain of not seeing my kid for 4 months straight. But then as you grow older and wiser and you revisit some of your friends and their lives – while there a little part of you which wants time to turn back, sometimes with more intensity that you could imagine, there is another part of you which wants to get back to your life as is. You think practically and then you see how your lives have gone different ways and you are just lucky to stay in each others life with a belief that if you really needed one another, you would be there. No matter what.

The belief keeps me going – never have I felt such gratitude towards my friends, than at this hour of the night sitting alone in my apartment. The memories of the times we spent together are enough to last a lifetime and in my deepest and darkest hours, I draw life from them… you do mean a lot to me…..

Choices

This is an incident which evoked extreme reactions in me.

Someone from office wanted to quit. So what you say, people quit every day, why get so worked up? The reason is the reason for getting worked up - The reason for quitting.

This girl was quitting to stay at home and cook and clean. And yes, she wanted an industry job – which is euphemism for a 9-5 job. Who in today’s world has a 9-5 job??? She felt guilty of her husband doing house work and her inlaws were not too happy with the hours she kept. Even her parents sided with her inlaws. So instead of trying to work things out and keeping a job in today’s economy she decides to quit. What a screwed up mentality!! Who in the 21^st century or better still which educated woman in the 21^st century feels guilty about sharing housework – sharing life means sharing everything in life – house work included and childbirth excluded due to obvious reasons. And what kind of parents spends money and educates their daughter and forget to instil a sense of independence and pride in her? When asked why she couldn’t look for options to rejig her current work profile by either working from home or by leaving at a fixed time and then finishing off left over work at night, she came up with the lamest excuses I have ever heard. She can’t work from home – she doesn’t have internet at home. Even if she got internet access (which is not impossible considering she lives in Bangalore and not the bottom of the ocean), she apparently doesn’t have a comfortable place to sit and work – maybe where she comes from she hasn’t heard of tables and chairs. She needs to cook daily – the couple kind of whizzed past the era of refrigeration and she obviously has to wash clothes – they haven’t heard of washing machines either I guess. One way of looking at this situation is to say that they are newly married and really can’t afford a lot of luxuries. Another way of looking at it is – haven’t you heard of EMI’s and financial planning? And if you can’t afford these essentials (fridge and washing machine are no longer luxuries), then what the hell are you doing quitting a job that you already have? Have you gone bonkers??!!??  I actually thought that the best way out of this situation is for her to quit, sit at home for a couple of months, get frustrated with life, not get a better job, get pregnant and see her life ebbing away in front of her. Are we going backwards as a generation?? Most professionals in today’s world quit for better prospects or for a better life.

While I wrote that statement down, I had to pause. Pause and reflect on what I had written.

Then I read all that I had written and realized how judgemental I sounded. Here I was forcing my views and opinions on someone. Forcing to an extent that I was wishing this girl ill. I was actually characterizing an individuals right to peace and quiet and her prioritization of family over career as a backward idea. Where did that come from? Came from my upbringing, I guess. I have descended from a line of alpha females – we do what we want to do the way we want to do it and the rest of the world can live with that. Is that a bad attitude? I’m sure I have brushed people the wrong way and bruised a few egos and hurt a few feelings along the way. But does it mean that I love my family any less than this girl did? Nope. I love my kid and miss her as much as the next mom. And while I am not cochicoo and all dolled up doesn't mean that I don't like coming back to my husband or taking care of him (as long as the feeling and action is mutual). But here I am thousands of miles away. Is this how I show love? I view it as making a short term sacrifice to get long term benefits. Does the rest of the world see it that way? How many people mutter behind my back – that female, all she cares about is herself and money and career. Poor husband of hers – what a good guy for putting up with her and how damaged would her kid be, after all that she has put her through. Now do I think these thoughts? The fact that I am writing about these obviously means that I do, but do I really feel guilty? Sometimes pangs arise, but in such cases logic prevails – the head rules and placates the heart.

So if this works for me, why wouldn’t quitting from a high stress job, getting a 9-5 job (if there is something like that still out there), cooking and cleaning for her family (like her mom did all those years back), getting pregnant in the first year of marriage and taking care of her family work for her?

 

London Chronicles - The last blog of 2013

The title needs to be rewritten… it is not a London chronicle.. it is a life chronicle – an account of one of the most happening years of my life. There have been multiple mile stones in my life – hard not to have them when you are on the slow path from early thirties to mid thirties. I remember a few big ones – they are all the good ones; the bad ones, I learn from, change direction or self and move on. 2002 when I cleared CA, 2004 when I got my first corporate job and made a couple of friends for life, 2006 when I made my first trip outside India and made a few more friends for life, 2007 when I got married, 2011 when Nandu came along and now 2013 which has drawn to a close.

This year has been a mixed bag of life events – have had a lot of good moments, have had a few not too great ones. When I decided to catalogue the year gone by, I decided to give into temptation and did what consultants now a days do out of sheer habit (I am not talking about checking FB updates); I opened an excel sheet. Agreed that an excel sheet is not the most apt form for literary expression, but old habits die hard. Then I started filling out the excel sheet and found that it truly is an accountants tool – only facts no feelings. So the next best thing – a power point presentation. I could jazz it up a bit with colours, smart art etc to make it funky and put loads of feelings and expressions into it. But then how effective would it be on my blog? Not very, I realized. So I defaulted back to the standard writers tool – word. So here goes – Renu’s life in 2013.

The first day of the 2013 will always be memorable for me. Woke up in a colleague’s friend’s apartment in Sydney. First person I saw was my colleague with whom I had shared the bed – my husband knows about this, so please readers (all four of you) don’t turn this into page 3 material.  The view outside was Sydney harbor and it was surreal.  A half an hour walk through Sydney centre on  the first day of the year – watching strangers walk back from parties, the deserted streets, thinking of my family back home. Then I geared up and jumped off a plane at 14000 feet. Awesome adventure and I was alone, no one to share it with in person, no one to hold my hand, no one to hi-five after I landed. Alone. I did a whole light and dance show the next day in office and I published it all over facebook…. At least many “friends” knew.

I was back home by the end of Jan.

February we were a family again… work load was light, I was patient and life, for a moment looked good. I started writing articles for a regulatory magazine. Enjoyed the creative freedom, but it was restrictive. There is only so much passion that one can bring to the exciting world of compliance and corporate governance

March was training month – I attended a couple of leadership trainings at close intervals. They were good, thought provoking and ones which inspired introspection.

April had Vishu – Nandu in a salwar suit looking adorable. April was also Nandu’s and Mom’s birthday. We hosted our first party as a family. Not too shabby – could have gotten a professional photographer, but we didn’t. So no pics of the function, except for some that I took.

May was when my Nano came home. It was also my birthday, but was one of my most neglected birthdays in recent times. May was also when I attended a face to face job interview for the first time in over 5 years. The interview taught me three things – one, I was still employable; two, I was happy with my current job and three, I needed to get my priorities sorted out.  It was also the time when I started considering something radical – I wanted a big change and I was going to make it happen. I wanted to move countries - continents if possible.

June was when I got official confirmation of my move abroad – all I knew was it was either London or somewhere in US – most probably London, but could be US. The suspense was a bit too much for home life – my poor hubby needed to know where I was uprooting the family to. Then finally word came in – it was London. June was also hubby dearest’s birthday and my very first attempt at cake making. Not sure if I would want to try that again – for sure hubby doesn’t want me to try that again. I also became a regular driver in June i.e. I started driving to office everyday.

July was spent in house hunting and information gathering for my relocation. July might also have been when I started taking on more work, calls which started showing at home. Short fuse, no family time et al.

August, we jumped through hoops to get our first instalment of home loan towards our new home paid. Everything about the process was painful and made us reconsider our decision a hundred times. But finally it was through. August was also when we took Nandu to Mookambika for her Vidyarambham. It was a good trip. My first trip with my family ever. Enjoyed most of it. She enjoyed it too, I think. Things at home were not so hunky dory, lack of communication was hurting badly. I desperately wanted to get out of the country and to be alone.

September was Onam – my parents were with me. It was a special time. Nandu was decked up in new clothes everyday. Formal approval for my move came through. I was going to London for three years. The visa process could start.

October was busy and tense. There was a lot going on with my parents – their life in Mumbai was ending and a new one in Kerala was starting. There was a lot of packing up and unpacking to do. 35 years of life is not easy to lift & shift. There was no one at home to take care of Nandu. I didn’t want to sit at home, nor did my husband think he could make that choice. What great parents were we, right? Anyway, my parents had to struggle with two establishments and the journey that they ought to have undertaken together – from Mumbai to Trissur – they did it separately, with a lot of mental and physical stress. Something they could have done without and could even have been avoided if the rest of the family chipped in, but obviously you need to care about someone other than yourself to do that. It is not a quality easily found in people. So anyway, things happened as they were bound to and life moved on.

November 5^th, I said my good byes and left Bangalore. I was happy and sad at the same time. Happy that I was getting out of the depressing environment that my home was becoming. Sad that I had saddled a whole lot of responsibility on my aging parents. They didn’t deserve it. I started chronicling my life in London, so not rehashing it.

A couple of business trips to Europe, some starting trouble at office, house setting and DIY adventures, a heart warming Christmas in Amsterdam, a case of a lost and found laptop bag with my passport and truly rotten British weather on the last day of the year and here we are – 2 hours from year end watching Law & Order SVU alone…

With all the excitement and events, don’t know whether the year should be described as good or bad. I chose to be thankful. Thankful for being alive, healthy, having a loving family wherever they are, having friends who respond with warmth irrespective of whether the gap in communication is 6 months or 6 years, having a decent job, having some sense of safety and security and having enough hope in my heart to ring the new year in with enthusiasm.

So happy new year to me…..