Home away from home

 It’s a beautiful day. I stand in my balcony with a soft breeze caressing my stress away. The cacophony of traffic does not diminish the songs of multiple birds. The peocock, the bulbul, the koyal, those tiny birds I barely catch sight of - all enjoying their space, all voicing their own songs. All, in my opinion, being Hyderabadi. 

Friends have asked me how I am happy when I stay away from my piece of heaven in Orlando.  I miss everything and everyone at home there, and cannot even begin to put words for the gratitude I feel. But there is a different energizing peace here I cannot articulate. 

There is an infectious joy in the energy of life here. This morning, I see children walking happily, and some unhappily, to school. I see my banana-seller wave to me as he pulls his cart away. The vegetable-seller increases the decibel of his sales-cry trying to catch my attention. Scooters meander on the road as they make way between moving and haphazardly-parked cars. 

I think it is the human connection here, in my city, that is unique. It is not just the neighbor you know, it’s not just the family you love, it’s not just the friends you cannot live without.  It is that traffic-cop who smiles back even at his thankless job, it is the onion-seller who puts two extra onions in your bag, it is the autowalla who nods an apology for almost taking out a headlight, it the valet at a restaurant who recognizes your very-ordinary car and runs to greet you. Then of course, there is the food. That is an entirely different topic. And could be the sole reason for anyone never to leave. 

I know that, here, there is so much to improve, to clean, to fix. But there is also so much that never should change. And while I do long to be back home, I do need to be in my birthplace for a time too - just to remind me who I am. 

Trauma

 

I was reading an article on post-traumatic growth. I have not heard such rubbish before. Its startling what ridiculousness gets published nowadays. Any idiot saying anything that sounds like a soundbite gets their day in digital ink.

 I never did give such supposed growth any validation for the simple yet glaring reason – no one wants to grow like that. No normal being at least. “Hey, let’s lose all your money, so you know, you can handle your feelings better next time you lose your home. Think positive.”

 I can’t even joke about losing someone you love. I have talked about it before here.

In the 19^th century, ‘philosopher’ Nietzsche came up with the ridiculous idea of ‘what does not kill you, makes you stronger’. And somehow, everyone has gotten on that bandwagon. People still walk around spewing the same illogical aphorism. Those, I believe, have not seen real adversity or fear.

If you have survived a life-changing, soul-killing loss, it changes you. You carry the hole in your being forever. You learn to live, softer maybe, but weakened forever. One goes through weakness of faith, of hope, of ambition, and even of physical and mental health. There is no ‘renewed appreciation’ of life; there is a reduced importance of everything in this ephemeral life. There is no new, uplifting gratitude for friends and family. You just understand, and are grateful for, those who stood by your side. 

What psychologists spin as ‘growth’ is just people dealing with the past and trying to get to the next day. It may be resilience, but I am certain that resilience was always there. It is not something the trauma created within them! Poverty, ill-health, oppression – is all ongoing, continual trauma. The strength is already there in people suffering through it. And it weakens them every day. How many spiritually flourishing refugees have you seen during the crisis?

The article clearly states that there is no proof, even anecdotal, of anyone getting better, in any way, because of undergoing a trauma. The best we can expect is for the trauma to wear off. If you are fortunate, you will still have the same friends, and the new fork in life will be pleasant. You will have a sharpened awareness of another’s pain. You will adapt, find meaning, even joy. But you will change forever.

That is not growth.

 

Thought for the week- ( posted on Facebook 7/13/23)

It seems to me sometimes that you cannot get away from lizards. And 'religious' people. People using distorted, and not-so-distorted tenets of religion to justify their laziness, their own biases, their own insecurities. That is of course fine; everyone has the choice to live and believe as they will. But I draw the line when they use that to preach, to alleviate their own guilt, to raise themselves by stomping others.

But preaching does not impress. Only practice does.

To show what you represent in its best form, you must be that. Whether we represent our faith, our community, our country, or our family, we simply have to be the best version of ourselves. It is not an on-occasion behavior, it is a developed constant habit. It is conscious decision to be and do what you really believe.

Kindness if the only way to teach anything, especially about our own belief system. And that is not possible without understanding and accepting another's. There is no way someone you look down upon will ever look up to you.

Heaven within grasp

 'A man's reach should exceed his grasp, or what's a heaven for?' Robert Browning's insight has always touched my heart. Ah, heaven within reach, with effort and faith.  Heaven of course, being anything that we aspire to. That state of being that gives us peace and security. Or rather more of it. Something better than what you already have.

But, today, I look at it differently. The heaven we seek may seriously always be outside our reach. By definition, it probably is something we cannot get to. Unless striving for it is a joyful pursuit, maybe enjoying what is already yours is much more worthwhile. 

Ambition is always marketed as a positive attitude. It is not. The nobility of trying to do better, to be better, applies only to those whose circumstances are strained, who need to break out of shackles of injustice, oppression, or poverty. 

The one surety of life is that it ends. What is of paramount importance is that we live it in the now, with whatever it is that we have or don't. Moving ahead is great, but not at the cost of losing out on enjoying the present. Don't miss out on the joy of a cup of tea because you're waiting for the right biscuits (this weird example because I have done that).

Sometimes living in the present itself is act of faith, of gratitude. Definitely of strength. Our effort is always for the day; so should our reward be, and so should our focus.

We may exceed our grasp tomorrow, and find heaven for that day - only when it becomes our present. But it's so much more sensible to not try to reach for that unpromised future at the cost of the contentment today. There may be heaven already within our grasp.

The past has not passed

 I cannot deny I have a tremendous amount to be grateful for. Even right now, at this moment - the chai in my cup, the view from my window, the faculties that allow me to enjoy it,  the amazing people as neighbours (for that is a major blessing) -  I should be kneeling in awestruck thankfulness.  

But I am not. This was not the goal, as I never thought it possible, and the path to this point in time was never actually clear. Its strange how we move in life towards something we are certain of, and land up somewhere else entirely.

And that is the point of living - the path. My path, like many others I assume, was rife with doubts, disappointments, fear and pain. Whatever peace I have now, thank God, it has come after traversing difficult trails. So it is coloured with the trials of past. How can it be otherwise?

The past can never left behind because living it has made us who we are. What we have gone through, good or bad, defines what we think of the future. And how we react in the present.

I do not believe in letting go of the past (it is quite impossible). I believe in accepting it, by cherishing the good and dealing with bad. It is not a 'lesson to learn', it is an experience you have lived. Period. 

The brain does not differentiate between what is real and what is perceived, so every memory flash is actually happening again for you. Of course you can delight in happy memories anytime, but the bad ones sneak up too.

And sometimes they stay. When my daughter and I moved into this home, we realized after a year we were furnishing it only half-heartedly: not doing anything 'permanent' like putting nails in walls (so no wall décor) or finishing closets. After how our lives changed radically after losing my husband, both of us were working under the assumption that this would not last. That nothing nice stays forever. 

But it does. It is always there in your heart and mind. From the joke that made you laugh uncontrollably and does not anymore, to the breakfast with family that has dwindled with time, it is all there. For you, and for everyone who remembers - that breakfast happens anytime they want it to, in their own unique remembrance.

And so does every slash on your heart that should have killed you.  Nope, it does not make you stronger. A word, a situation, a smell, can bring that cascade of memories that recreate the trauma. You just keep getting better at dealing with it.

I do not see how the past will not matter in this world or the next. It happened. It may have passed, but it will always be there in your past. As much as you were there. Even being in Heaven is not going to undo it. Maybe there in the Hereafter we will be able to see beauty in the bad as we cherish the good parts again.

Quick thought

 Unseasonal, yet so soothing, this rumbling thunder.

Unbelievable, yet so lovely, this sunlight in the clouds.

Unreasonable, yet so real, this troubling lethargy.

Unassailable, yet so dampening, this pervasive peace.

Where you are is who you are

 

Who you are is directly tied to where you are. I feel that more strongly every time I come home to Hyderabad.

Very little is spoken of the rootlessness immigrants feel. However well we adjust, however grateful we are for our homes of choice, that indefinable sense of loss is always there. The loss of dreams and aspirations one always has with their place of birth. I will not even attempt to verbalize what refugees must feel- that pain of losing all semblance of a home must be devastating. I can only speak of what I feel. I am blessed to have homes in my two countries. And yet I don’t know where I actually belong. It takes a few months in one to start missing the other. The political situation in both countries just makes things more difficult. Which is worse? Where can still *stay* my home?

This restlessness is exacerbated when I travel back from one home to another. It takes a while for those roots find their way from my heart. It takes a few days to adjust looking for pens or spoons in places that exist in the other home. It takes another few days to get into the clothing, driving and behaving of the place. Takes a week to become the individual that belongs there.

It makes me think of how blessed are those who live their lives calling one place home. To grow and change with their city of birth, connected to all friends and family; and may be become the focus point for those that have moved away. I don’t think ‘aloneness’ is something they would identify with.

‘Aloneness’ has been a distressing development for me. It is the realization that your situation is so uniquely yours – your hopes, attachments, fears – that you are alone in dealing with them. Visiting family and friends I have grown up with is essential to my mental health. Yet each visit here seems to bring new sorrows now. Change marches on, slaughtering anything in its path. Styles die, rituals become outdated, connections fade away., loved ones pass away leaving an unfillable void. Even traditional homes that had brought that stab of joyful memories are cleared away for some mammoth eyesore. For those who live here it is the endemic growth of a city. I come in a year and see a stark change, and struggle to belong to this rapidly changing society. The comfort of people and conventions you have known all your life seems to be whittling away. Hyderabad was my default setting. The peace that I would feel once I stepped out of the airport is still there, but I find myself counting days to be back home in Orlando. Even with its very real, all-encompassing aloneness. So, is this still where I should be?