Gift of Eavesdropping

Its impolite to eavesdrop on a conversation that does not intend to include you. Or so I upheld until now. Turns out that it "depends".

I recently participated in the introductory tour of the Maitrimandir at Pondicherry. It was a beautiful experience and I was in relaxed, peaceful state. As I walked out of the compound, I overheard a middle-aged man giving what sounded like an exclusive talk about the place to a group of middle-aged Indian couples. Some seemed to be listening with interest, the others out of compulsion. Am not sure what compelled me to stop as I was passing by, the politely confident quality of his voice or my hunger to learn more about this unique place. Quite likely that it was both.

I stood rooted at a respectful distance from the group and lapped up every word of what he said. It turned out that he was a senior civil servant who was sharing the story of Maitrimandir and Auroville from the lens of the Indian Govt.'s role (or deliberate lack of it) in the whole project. He seemed well-informed yet humble and I got some great insights into this 40+ years old work-in-progress project called Auroville world city.

It probably lasted no longer than 10 minutes. I could sense that his talk was coming to a close and it was time for him to steer the group forward to continue their round of the premises. I looked at him to express my gratitude, only to find him looking back. I smiled and nodded at him in a expression of my heartfelt thanks and he reciprocated with a very similar nod. It was over in 3 seconds.

It struck me later that maybe he was thanking me too. For listening with a curious and respectful ear.  For giving him the gift of eavesdropping.

A Heart Brims Over

Sometimes a heart can brim over with love.

Like when you drop your 2 year old on his third day at nursery school. You tell him you'll be back at 11:30 and we'll ride back home together on the big bike. He looks at you confidently and says his trademark "OK". He nods at the teacher and joins the morning group of children in their signing session.

You ride away on your bike and as you cast a final glance, you see him stomping his feet happily to a song.

And just like that, your heart brims over.

Get well soon

Setting: Our favourite Mexican restaurant. Husband, son and I enjoying our food at our table. A group of 2 guys and 2 girls in their thirties enjoying at theirs. 

My son decides to start kicking me under the table for no reason. I ask him to stop. No luck. I pinch his leg to let him know he really has to stop. He is taken back. Decides to throw a bout of crying to register this affront to his dignity.

The guy at the adjoining table turns to face him and aggressively makes a shooing gesture and sound at him. Husband takes son out to pacify him.

The guy starts sharing a new policy by Singapore Airlines (?) where you can buy a special ticket that ensures there will be no kids seated in your vicinity. The merriment at their table continues.

I am seething with fury. What gives this guy the right to be aggressive with my 2 year old ? I want to retaliate.

First thought - "F*** YOU"

Second thought - to the 2 girls at the table seated with him  - "you don't want him to be the father of your child"

Third thought - "F*** YOU"

Fourth thought - "Wish you good luck being a Dad"

Husband and son have returned. Son is back to being his happy self. Seeing him smiling and happy, I no longer want to make an aggressive comeback at the guy. But I can't let it pass either.

We settle our bill. Husband and son walk out as I am taking the last couple of sips from my drink.

I collect our bags. Walk up to the other table. Lean over to the guy and say -

"I wish you a speedy recovery. Get well soon."

Dumbfounded expressions at the table. I walk out with the pleasure of a job well done.



p.s. thankyou Munnabhai :)

Dear Kabir - Of Hugs

Today I hugged the root of a 130 year old Banyan tree.

At first, I was hesitant to even lean back against it, as some others in our group were doing. Once I leaned, it felt like I was turning my back on it. So I wondered how it would feel to hug it. Hug a tree root ? That seemed weird and surely no one around was doing it.

So then I thought about you, put my arms around the tree and closed my eyes.

The tree pulled me closer into the hug. My palms cupped the root softly, my cheek rested against it and I surrendered.The breeze became cooler. I no longer cared about being the weird one hugging a tree. And the tree hugged me right back.

I hope, dear Kabir, that your life will be rich in hugs. Including those with old trees.

Especially those with old trees.

Meditating by a Fish Pond

Something pulled me to that small fish pond. Made me sit down and look closer.

At first I saw the big fish. I noticed how smoothly they swam, barely using their fins, gliding through water with the slightest swish of their tails. Then I saw the tiny fish. How some of them seemed to be tailing mama/dada fish.

Then I noticed how clear the water was, how rare this opportunity to be able to see fish to clearly and closely. Then I saw the thick bushes of tall grass underwater. All of a sudden there appeared a big frog, wading through those bushes. But hey ! how come this frog had six legs, four big and two tiny ? Oh no ! It was a baby frog riding horseback on mama frog. Holding on to her shoulders with his front legs and using the rear ones to practice swimming. They would surface up, eyes darting out of water and then dive back into the grass bushes below. And repeat, in their own slow rhythm.

Then I saw the pink dragonflies. Two of them, engaged in their own dance around a plant growing out of the pond. Then the two dragonflies became five. Some time passed and I felt the dragonflies approach me. Two of them came close and circled me, hovering close enough to inspect me closely and then going back to their business.

Then I noticed a slender and long yellow insect which seemed to hanging out with the dragonflies.

Then I noticed the ripples in the pond and saw that they were being caused by a trickle of water dropping at the one edge of the pond from far above.

Then I heard the wind chimes. They were melodious and loud. Surprising that I had only just heard them.

I felt my eyelids drooping, they seemed too heavy all of a sudden. Then I noticed how tired I really was.

Then I realized that this was meditation. Being present in the moment, at one with your surroundings and with yourself.

I went back after two days and all I could see were a few ordinary fish. No trace of the dragonflies, yellow insect, baby-mama frog, small fish, chimes, trickle of water. Maybe if I had sat down by the pond side without expectations, they would have all come back with some more friends in tow.

Where have the ladybirds gone ?

My son's first and most favorite animal since he was 20 months old was the Ladybird. He would spot it in the most unlikely places. On logos, playmats, toys, toddler cars, books and, most incredibly on the packaging of a green tea bottle. I could never understand why he was so drawn to this particular bug. But I wanted to fill his life with ladybirds.

I found myself looking for ladybird themed board books, stickers, backpacks,  beanbags, placemats. Until it struck me that he had never seen a real ladybird. That we don't see ladybirds anymore. Sometime early in my childhood, I have seen ladybirds, the red and black ones.

I no longer wish to cram his life with ladybird things. Now my only wish is for him to meet a real ladybird or two.

Have you seen them somewhere recently? 

Khruu Sican: Thai Language

To me, she is the definition of grace. In the way she holds her posture, picks her clothes, conducts herself, goes about her job.

I learnt with her for just one month but she left an imprint on me that will last much longer.

She is teacher extraordinaire, passionate about helping you learn the language well.  She is thorough, yet sensitive. Graceful, yet fun (not slapstick fun). She tailors her questions to you effortlessly, helping you learn better.

She is thoughtful and good at the reading the unsaid. She in honest and unfraid to expose her vulnerabilities without trying to earn sympathy votes.

She is real. She is grace under pressure.