The White Shirt

"Clumsy!" Kavya heard her mother's voice in her ears as she spilled coffee on her shirt. She looked at it in dismay, wondering when she would learn to be less messy. And why did she have to wear white!

The waiter very helpfully offered her tissues. But though she knew she should try to wash off the stain, getting a white shirt wet in a cafe!!!

She controlled the tears of frustration as she paid up and came out. She checked her watch - 10. Her house was in one direction, and her venue for the appointment in another. "Damn!" she thought. There was no time to go back home and change her shirt. She would have to buy another shirt. White shirt. Which idiot thought of making white the uniform at her workplace, she wondered for the nth time!

She looked across the road, wondering if she should just walk into the meeting with the stained white shirt and pretend it was the latest design!

She sighed, knowing that was not going to work. She was about to hail an auto when she realised there was a mall next door. She headed there, thanking gods for this little mercy on her. She entered her favourite shop. She looked for her size in her preferred brand and was disappointed to see they were out of stock. There was S, M and XL but no L.

Reluctantly, she looked for white shirts in other brands, and even in other shops in the mall, giving herself just 10 minutes to complete the survey. She didn't even need so much time. The stores in teh same floor didn't have white shirts. In the next floor, the only store that had didn't have her fit. Either they were too tight in the chest or too loose around the waist.

She recollected her mother's lamentation, "I can never find ready made clothes for you. Why can't you fit the mould?"

Ever since she turned adolescent, she had to opt for tailor made clothes. While for Indian she didn't mind that, getting a good tailor for western wear was a challenge. Now that at the workplace she had to wear western clothes most of the time, shopping was becoming a nightmare. Was it only she who had a problem, she wondered as she finally opted for an L size in an inferior brand and tried to get it to mould to her shape.

She reached the venue 20 minutes late, and not even feeling good about her purchase...

Who decides what a woman's body should be like - the thought wouldn't leave her. Was she abnormal? Was she misshapen? She started looking at herself closely every time she crossed a mirror. She started assessing the expression in the eyes of the people looking at her during conversations. She didn't see ridicule or even surprise in their eyes. Sometimes she even detected admiration and desire...

Then why couldn't she find a simple shirt? She went back, again and again, to try out different western designs and found the same problem. She spoke to her friends, acquaintances, wives of colleagues. It was heartening to know she was not the only one, but she wondered why no one had thought of all the other women who did not fit into the standard sizes.

Finding a solution became her only obsessive thought in the next few days. She searched the web, and all she came up with were tailor names and addresses abroad. Or high end fashion designers...

Her quest took her to e-commerce sites. Nothing much for women, but it gave her an idea.

It took her two years and much talking to her parents to convince them to back her. When she successfully commissioned western wear to fit her shape, she felt liberated. But when she launched a site for women to buy made-to-order wear, she was the first one to order the kind of clothes she had fantasised about all her life!

"My ugly duckling turns a swan," her mother said fondly, kissing her daughter. "Can I order some for myself too?" asked she, surprising Kavya. She thought her mother preferred the regulation uniform she wore. "I never found what I wanted in the shops," her mother confessed and the two had a hearty laugh.

(This story is a creative twist based on an interview I did for a management magazine about a woman who started a portal for customised western wear. It may differ in actual points as I do not know much about the person. The actual article on how her entrepreneurial journey turned out will appear in the next issue of the magazine.)

Armed Against Anger

It was like a battery of bullets being discharged, a sten gun in action. Ta-da-da-da-da she went. Anger bubbled. She felt so wronged at her wishes not being given due respect, of being forced to do something she did not want to year.

Fighting Fears

My seven-year-old started crying whenever we asked him to take bath. He would want me to sit in the adjoining bedroom. This, after two years of taking bath by himself!

Used to the independence of not having to monitor his bath, I fought against his tears and pleas. Anger, cajoling, indifference, nothing worked.

And then I slowly found the reason. A Tamil movie, 'Kanchana', which I thought was a comedy and allowed him to watch in his friend's place, turned out to be a horror-comedy. The ghost comes in the bathroom, and hence his fear!

I tried to fight it through logic. I showed him the pictures of the actor and also how I found him handsome. I told him other stories to distract him. I even made him say Hanuman Chalisa and other slokas.

But while the lip moved, while the ears heard, while the eyes saw, the mind kept returning to the image that had caused the fear in the first place.

This couldn't go on! Bath sessions were becoming a melt down time - too much water in his eyes!

So then, I sat with him in the puja room. I told him to focus on his breath and slowly painted a scene with greenery and lake and serenity. I don't remember how long it took, but the Drama Before the Bath stopped and calmness returned.

It is never too early to teach children to focus on their breathing to deal with troubles of any kind. Solutions may not present themselves in any miraculous fashion. But they will be less stressed about it and that in itself may resolve half the problems.

Soon to follow: Armed Against Anger.
Also read:  The Child-Like Mind

Not As In...

"How did your day go?" Vivek asked when Sadhana returned from work.

"Mmmm..." she replied noncommittally.

"Is that a yes or a no?" he asked, more from masochistic intentions of needing evidence to lament later on.

"It was good," Sadhana answered, but her tone did not reflect 'good.'

Mars is the Next Earth

Suddenly, my older one burst in on me with this theory - that Mars will be the next earth.

Photo courtesy: Srikant Ranganathan

In her words:
"Kalki avataram is the last of the incarnations after which the earth will be destroyed. Mercury and Venus are going to merge with the Sun, and earth is becoming the next Mercury - hot - as it is getting closer to the sun. Mars will come to Earth's position. Already snow capped mountains, underground water and atmosphere conducive for life have been found on that planet. So that will be the next earth. Then after sometime, that will also move closer to the sun and the next planet will become the earth, and this will go on till all are consumed by the Sun."

I listened with a thoughtful smile, thinking how close she is to the theory of expanding and contracting universes. I quoted:

ॐ पूर्णमदः पूर्णमिदं पूर्णात्पुर्णमुदच्यते
पूर्णस्य पूर्णमादाय पूर्णमेवावशिष्यते ॥
ॐ शान्तिः शान्तिः शान्तिः ॥Om Puurnnam-Adah Puurnnam-Idam Puurnnaat-Purnnam-Udacyate
Puurnnasya Puurnnam-Aadaaya Puurnnam-Eva-Avashissyate ||
Om Shaantih Shaantih Shaantih ||

Meaning:
THAT (BRAHMAN) IS WHOLE, THIS (CREATION) IS ALSO WHOLE 
FROM THAT WHOLE (I.E. BRAHMAN ONLY), THIS WHOLE HAS COME OUT (CREATION)
BUT EVEN THOUGH THIS WHOLE HAS COME OUT OF THAT WHOLE
YET THAT WHOLE REMAINS WHOLE ONLY

In 'Vashishta's Yoga', the idea that the whole cosmos begins from a mustard seed  - a complete circle, that expands in creation and contracts in dissolution - seems to be indicated. What she told me, not based on any scientific fact or even with any understanding of what is given in the scriptures, seemed to reflect this same thought. Though this will mean that the sun will also move and so the relative cosmic distances with other stars, planets and galaxies will change, it is quite possible that in a contracting world, earth will eventually go back to its progenitor - the sun.

We will not live to see this, but I was pleased to see the radiant smile on her face when I explained what little I understood to her. And I was glad of the opportunity to give this self-generated nascent thought a direction.

The Child-like Mind

An unexpected statement, and my mind flared up. A root thought went round and round in circles, taking over my mind and emotions. My hands went about their work, but the thoughts - a thought, in fact - split into different hues like light passing through prism, scattering into a million other thoughts.

One hue resulted in a debate; another pulled up past offenses; a third imagined a friend to whom I poured out my heart; a fourth thought objectively and judged itself petty for the frenzy it was getting into.

These further splintered into a myriad subthoughts. And, oh, a part was getting bored and sought to distract itself. So wave dipped and peaked, dragging the mind down while another sought to remain neutral and a third tried to boost it up.

The thoughts fueled the morning chores, which got done early due to the anger energy flowing with the blood. A refreshing bath changed the direction of the thoughts. A brief yoga session later, the mind started singing a song and presto! the mood had changed. Like a child that saw a new toy and forgot its tantrum, the mind now easily flowed to other, more pleasant thoughts.

'Dil to bachcha hai ji' - suddenly this line flashed through my mind (the very same, the very same). The mind is indeed a child, pretending to be mature and adult-like, but really a child that sways with whims and fancies. It throws tantrums, becomes stubborn and clings to its views without any rationale sometimes. The ego stands like a guardian - a short-sighted parent - assuring the mind of its perspicacity and encouraging it in its rash and unreasonable behaviour that becomes self-destructive eventually.

A little bit of sugar can distract a crying child. A little focus on our breath can distract our child-like mind. But just like the child enjoys the tantrum, we enjoy our spiraling thoughts.

I bow to our ancestors who identified the gentle guide, the guru - our breath- that calms us, guides us, releases us from the vice grip of our thoughts and emotions without much effort.

The One who gave us problems gives us solutions too, it is said. Most of the times, problems are of our own making. And yet, we have been given a solution in anticipation. Let's at least use that well.

Do problems go away? No, but they cease to become a problem - just a situation that needs to be faced and will pass... A child needs its games. Let it have its fun. Like a mature parent, smile and watch but don't get too involved. The next fancy will change the direction of the thoughts in any case.

Also Read:
Fighting Fears
Armed Against Anger

A Prayer, O Mother

Rising sun, shining forth
Spreading light, and hope
Colouring earth with saffron hue
Riding in the sky ever so blue

White, pure and bright
Filling hearts with divine light
In the middle a blue dot
Representing the Ultimate Truth

The lush, cooling green
And the trees, life-giving
For farmers who toil
Shedding sweat on my soil

The three stand out
And yet are ever together
Fluttering proudly in the wind
Making my heart sing

My eyes well up
When I look at you
Sometimes with pride
Sometimes with regret

May we be worthy of you
May we make you proud
Every day, every year
I offer you this prayer.