Expecting a Sunday feast, I went to the dining table eagerly looking forward to the best of my mother’s cooking. I lifted the lid on the big casserole and found pulao with corn. I didn’t know what to make of it. I believe my mother makes the best peas pulao. But to have corn replacing green peas? I approached the dish with a lot of trepidation. It didn’t sweep me off my feet. Nor was it exactly the best surprise combination dishes from my mom’s kitchen.

My reaction had a lot to do with the fact that I had already decided that I would dislike the dish. My mind had already rejected the dish and placed it in the “do not like” part of the brain.

So I didn’t help myself to a second serving and, instead, had more of the side dish and finished the meal with a large bowl of mango slices.

Food is that part of our lives that has the ability to elicit rather strong reactions. The very thought of certain foods can inspire extreme desire to extreme dislike. Over the years, certain foods moved from the ‘dislike’ bracket to the ‘desire’ bracket (brinjal is one such vegetable). This was mainly due to my experiments with cooking.

Cooking is an art and science. It is also an essential ritual in which we engage all our senses. When all our senses are engaged and the act of cooking becomes the sole focus of our energies, it moves from being an act of necessity to a spiritual practice. It opens us up to various experiences that we do not otherwise pay attention to, in our rush to simply get a job done.

The smell of garlic as it’s being crushed; the hissing-crackling sound of chopped onions as they jump and dance in the hot oil; the beauty of turmeric powder as it blends in a pan of cooking vegetables; the feel of boiled potatoes between our fingers as we mash them in preparation for a dish; and above all, the satisfaction of sitting down to a simple yet lovely meal that we have prepared for ourselves – it competes with little else in the world.

Many cultures give a lot of importance to the ritual of cooking. It’s a Zen practice to clean the kitchen thoroughly before starting to cook. Many Hindus believe in cleansing oneself with a ritual bath before preparing meals. These physical rituals lead to the higher, spiritual aspects of cooking. Sending out and thinking positive thoughts while cooking is important in order to not only enjoy the process of cooking but also for the food to have healthy benefits.

According to an Ayurveda master Bri Maya Tiwari, one should use one’s bare hands to massage food as much as possible while cooking. It’s also recommended to play soft soothing music while cooking or chant mantras for a positive effect.

The arms and the hands are horizontal extensions of the heart chakra. While using the hands and the arms in cooking, the vibrations from the heart get infused in the food. Therefore, it becomes important to think happy thoughts and wish well for the world during the act of preparing food.

We know we love ourselves when we’re involved in the kitchen and take pleasure in the process of cooking — from chopping to frying to kneading to blending. This process has the ability to bring many dishes under the ‘desire’ list.

Cooking for oneself is important also because it teaches us to love ourselves and our bodies – a commitment to the self that’s one of the most important.

On a narrow city bylane last week, a motorcycle was parked rather carelessly. It was obstructing the smooth flow of traffic. At one point, there was a major jam with cars from either side nudging for space to get ahead. The two-wheelers and cycles took up every inch of space between the larger vehicles, making movement even more difficult.

Those in the jam stuck their necks out and yelled abuses in the air. It had become very difficult to move in any direction because the traffic kept piling up from behind. One man decided to do something about it. He got out of his car and moved the motorcycle to make way for the line of two-wheelers. This eased the space for the cars and they followed his direction and moved in a coordinated line. Soon, the traffic had eased up.

This is the difference between simply reacting and responding to a situation. An interesting theory called the cockroach theory of self development talks about the importance of responding to situations and not just reacting to them.

The cockroach theory goes something like this. A woman was a restaurant with her friends for dinner. A flying cockroach came straight at her face. The woman instantly screamed. The cockroach kept circling her table. The woman screamed louder and louder. There was panic in the restaurant as the other guests’ attention was drawn to this incident. Out of fear, the other women at the table also started screaming.

The cockroach sat on the lap of one of the women at the table. She started moving her arms in the air frantically wanting to get rid of the cockroach. She stood up suddenly, the table shook and some of the glasses on the table fell, spilling its contents – water and

wine – everywhere. The cockroach then flew again. This time, it found a waiter’s apron. The waiter, who was watching these scenes from a distance, slowly lifted the cockroach between his fingers and threw it out of the window. This calmed everyone down and they got back to their dinner with something to talk about.

While it looks like the cockroach had created a lot of panic and action at that restaurant, was it the one really responsible? Was the cockroach the real culprit? If it was, then it does not explain the behavior of the waiter who eventually threw it out of the restaurant.

The cockroach was only a trigger. But the real ability to deal with situations lay within those who were affected, namely the woman and her friends as well as the waiter on whose apron the cockroach fell. The women were incapable of handling this situation, which was stressful to them. So they reacted to the situation without really thinking about ways to deal with it. However, the waiter “responded” to the situation by, firstly, being calm, and secondly, by doing the smart thing one can do when faced with such an issue.

Often in life, when we think about whether we are merely reacting to something that is happening around us or if we are responding to it, we can make the right decision. The traffic jam was an obstruction that none on the road were pleased with. Yet, only one man had the presence of mind to respond to that situation in a way that it reduced the inconvenience for everyone around.

Do you respond or react?

]]> http://postnoon.com/2013/05/11/do-you-react-or-respond/124770/feed 0 http://postnoon.com/2013/05/04/those-mystical-eclipses/123533 http://postnoon.com/2013/05/04/those-mystical-eclipses/123533#comments Sat, 04 May 2013 07:14:57 +0000 Sumaa Tekur http://postnoon.com/?p=123533

A number of eclipses are taking place during the months of April and May this year. The spring eclipse, which is a lunar eclipse in the Swati Nakshatra, happened on the night of April 25. The annular solar eclipse will happen on May 10 and the penumbral lunar eclipse will happen on May 25.

Will these affect us? Yes, at a deeper spiritual level. Eclipses are reminders from nature for our need to connect with the cosmos and know that we’re part of a larger flow that we have little control over. Eclipses are also ideal times to re-connect with nature and with our inner selves through yoga, meditation and any other way that balances the various motivators within us. It’s a good time to get spiritual and think about the larger good of the universe and not just ourselves and our personal life goals.

Eclipses are surely mystical times. They lend us the opportunity to commune with nature. It’s nature’s way of setting the calendar to cleanse ourselves of negativity and power forward with a more positive outlook towards life.

Here are some notes on what to expect from each planet during this period. It doesn’t matter if you’re a believer of astrology or not. These are general guidelines for anyone looking for a bit of meaning in the ebb and flow that is life.

Swati Nakshatra: This is a great time for those in the creative field. The Swati Nakshatra gives us the insights and the power of understanding to make sense of the various changes in processes and systems that include technology and machines. It enables us to see it all as a whole and not just as an individual part of something larger, which we cannot comprehend.

Lunar eclipse: This is the time when we get in touch with our emotions, whether we like it or not. Expect emotional outbursts and some period of turbulence.

Solar eclipse: During this time, our false ego is cut to size. We begin to see situations and people in new light. But when this happens to an extreme, it can also be at the cost of our own ego.

Sun: It makes us listen to our intuition and to our callings of the soul in ways never experienced before. At the other spectrum of this influence is the possibility of the renunciation of what we’re here for in the first place in search of that eternal peace and bliss. It can be tricky to navigate this path during this time.

Saturn: Saturn brings us face to face with our dharma as well as our karma. While there are some experiences in life we cannot avoid at all, it also teaches us the importance of going through it all with a stoic understanding. It helps to stop thinking about ourselves for a change, and think about the universe and where the world is heading.

Ketu: Guard against over thinking about the past, especially about relationships and why they didn’t meet your expectations. The journey down this road can stir up other emotions, and without a real need.

Venus: Accept the fact that there are going to be inconsistencies in the way you look at relationships. Rein in your expectations and let this time go by smoothly, without your having to make any big decisions.

Mars: On the one hand, you will gain the willpower to complete a job you have taken on. On the other hand, Mars will also make you restless, and will likely take away the anchor of your relationships. Stay calm. Accept it as it comes to you.

I just finished reading the third installment of the Shiva trilogy, The Oath of the Vayuputras, by author Amish. Plot, strategy and clever references to mythological stories apart, what struck me most about this much-awaited book, which sold millions of copies, is not what the book blurb says: Evil has risen. Only a God can stop it. But it’s the fact that the very idea of evil and good keep changing with time, and the real trick to survival is to quickly identify what harms us and re-fashion our belief systems, ideologies and our lives according to this new information.

The subtext about changing perspectives – that what was good at one point can become evil and what was perceived as evil all along may actually be good – is at the very crux of the book and its philosophy. The Oath of the Vayuputras underscores the need to constantly revisit our own ideas and to check the systems we’ve put in place hoping they would promote good for eternity. Truth is that they never really do. The truth changes with time, and so does our understanding of truth.

It’s the same way in which we consume stories and ideas. Hindu Gods and mythological stories lend the best example. The same stories of Gods and princes and their subjects, when read at different points in our life, communicate very different meanings. How we understood them as children when our parents or teachers narrated these stories to us, is not how we understand them when, as teens, we read comic book versions of these. These very stories take on a different meaning, hue and colour when, having experiencing several shades of life, we re-read them, and find new meaning. The stories stay fresh, insightful and new each time we read them.

This is perhaps why my grandmother never tires of reading the Bhagvad Gita or its many different versions. She read them over and over as though it were the very first time she was reading about these philosophies.

One of the most prominent physicists of the twentieth century, Paul Dirac, is another example of this shifting perspective. Dirac made some very significant contributions to the quantum theory. There is conflicting information

on where and when he said these things about religion. Some say that he said this at a conference in Brussels in 1927 when he was invited to talk about religion. Some others say that this was in a private conversation Dirac had with other physicists and scientists, including Einstein, Pauli, Schrodinger, etc. Dirac said: “I cannot understand why we idle discussing religion. If we are honest—and scientists have to be—we must admit that religion is a jumble of false assertions, with no basis in reality. The very idea of God is a product of the human imagination. It is quite understandable why primitive people, who were so much more exposed to the overpowering forces of nature than we are today, should have personified these forces in fear and trembling. But nowadays, when we understand so many natural processes, we have no need for such solutions. I can’t for the life of me see how the postulate of an Almighty God helps us in any way.”

Later in life, Dirac changed his mind about religion and God. As a 60-year-old scientist, when invited to contribute an article in the 1963 edition of the Scientific American, Dirac wrote that God (the Big Guy) was a super-mathematician who’s fashioned the cosmos on mathematical principles that we, as budding arithmetic and geometric pupils, are only beginning to comprehend. He wrote that nature is so constructed and we simply have to accept it.

A business visit to London last week took me down memory lane. Over the weekend, with work behind me, I set off to explore how much central London had changed. To my relief (and not so surprisingly), it hadn’t changed at all. Just a few new buildings had altered the landscape, only a little.

I took the opportunity to wa­lk down to the university, where I had studied for a year. I was returning to London after almost seven years, and the memories bubbled up in my mind from all its hidden recesses. There, the bench where my friends and I sat during lunch break. And here, the shortcut we took to reach the adjacent building for class. Being a Saturday afternoon, there were few students on campus milling about the café and bookshop. They may not realize it yet, but a few years later they, too, may walk down this campus with many memories of their student life.

I walked to my department and looked around. Even the empty seats and tables had many stories to tell. And these sprung from my own mind. When I stepped out onto the park in front of the main university building, the light drizzle and winds transported me to another time when London was home, and the friends I made here became family.

Nostalgia is a wonderfully strange thing. Money cannot buy it although people are willing to spend a fortune to get a piece of yesterday. They want a part of their past to stay the same. In this uncertain climate, where relationships have become fleeting arrangements of convenience and time is perceived more as money and less as a faithful companion through life, nostalgia slams the brakes, if only for a bit, on change. It’s warm and comforting to think of all the pleasant memories from the past. Nostalgia is also wonderful because not only does it highlight the positive memories and emotions, it also has a unique way of converting even the negative emotions of that time into positive ones when one looks back. The hardest times and the most difficult circumstances begin to look more like challenges when one has successfully overcome them and get the opportunity to reminisce and review their actions.

It’s not just the old who crave memories from the past. Even the young, these days, as young as thirty and even twenty year olds, are looking back and thinking: It’s not the same. This has spawned a whole new industry that caters to consumer craving for vintage goods. With these, the intention is to revive those bittersweet memories. These goods also cater more to people, who feel lonely in an increasingly fragmented society. Social isolation in a tech-connected world, ironically, is also the reason we crave a time when things were simpler and more in our control.

Although adjusting to a foreign culture in a new country, and meeting academic expectations were big challenges for me at that time, when I now look back, they seem like a great learning period, which shaped who I am and how I think today. And that is the beauty of nostalgia.

Walking down memory lane on that damp, cold Saturday afternoon was most valuable to me during that entire week-long business visit to London. And it didn’t cost anything!

A weekend trip to a jungle retreat was not just an unwinding pleasure trip, it also ended up being an exercise in overcoming fear. The weekend experience helped me in understanding how to deal with what the body and mind take to be foreign, unknown and therefore to

be feared.

Now, this was a jungle retreat in the Nilgiri forests, which gave the true experience of being out in the wild and as close to nature as one can possibly be. It meant after dusk, tuskers could walk by your door, leopards could have wandered into the land in search of food and water, and mountain bears could be passing by. The man who runs the retreat told us that as per government rules, they were not allowed to put up fences for the property because the land was supposedly in an elephant corridor. So his retreat was open, and guests experienced wildlife up-close.

Food and drink was only served at the restaurant, which was about a half-a-kilometre from the various cottages, tree houses and rooms. We were not allowed to carry food into the rooms because they would attract rats, and rats, in turn, would attract snakes. Post dinner, we would all be escorted back to our rooms by experienced guides, who knew the forests like we do our homes. On one full moon night, my friends and I assumed that there was enough light to spot any wild animals. But they told us that the elephants stand behind trees and in the night it’s difficult to spot them.

The guides flashed their powerful torches on the pathway as we walked back to the room each night. We asked them if the animals didn’t find the light annoying. They said that the animals were used to it. They knew that this property belonged to people who cared for wildlife, and that they would be caused no harm if they were walking by it.

The proprietor of the retreat showed us a video of the animals that were spotted at the property. They set up camera traps at night. These traps would record for one minute if it sensed any movement. They had videos of leopards, bisons, elephants, snakes, etc. As the guests watched the videos in silence, some were intrigued but many others questioned their safety. The reason they show these videos to all guests is not scare them, the proprietor later told me. It’s so that guests are careful and don’t get too adventurous to venture out by themselves at night, which might lead to incidents.

Fear has many faces and knowledge is that powerful light, which can overcome fear. If we knew what action needs to be taken when trouble knocks on the door, we wouldn’t be as scared.

Fear emerges from deep-rooted ignorance. We don’t always put things in the entire context and tend to see them as isolated issues that we magnify in our heads and label them as problems. All it needs to tackle these issues is light. Light from our inner vision and our instincts can light up our physical consciousness and make us see things differently. It’s necessary to awaken our inner beings to bring this consciousness to the fore.

There were many lessons to learn from this weekend with wild animals for company. I also became acutely conscious of the need to restore balance in life at regular intervals.

After all, we have taken away the space that belonged to the animals. We can at least learn to coexist.

Nothing lasts forever. Not friends or foes, as the Ambani brothers have shown us this week. Not good times or bad, as Sanjay Dutt’s verdict and his reaction to it have shown. Not even staying out of trouble all the time, as Olympic medal winning boxing champion Vijender Singh’s alleged involvement in the heroin case has shown.

This theme was more pronounced for me when I received a phone call from my mother that an extended family member’s financial troubles were about to end.

A part of my extended family had struggled with months of uncertainty and confusion over their business. This family had built the business over the last 50 years, with the son taking over the father’s business and growing it to even greater heights. But suddenly, almost out of nowhere, their business was under threat by some external forces that they had no control over.

Being close family members, we shared their anguish, too. We prayed and hoped for the best. That’s the best we could do. My mother said that they’re now on the road to recovery.

Not everything is always hunky-dory for anyone. Nor is anything always sad and depressing either. Imagine what life would be like without these highs and lows. Don’t we all look back at the tough times and its role in helping us discover our own strengths? We cause ourselves a lot of stress when we ignore the impermanence of life. Everything is constantly changing and constantly moving. That is the law of life. What is born has to die some day, and what is blooming will wilt sooner or later. But we want things to stay the same when we’re content and happy with it. We resist change. We feel insecure when something unfamiliar takes over.

This is not an attitude we are born with. We acquire this attitude over time due to social conditioning and our expectations from ourselves. Children, perhaps through their keen instinct and their willingness to surrender to their feelings rather than their thoughts, are more tuned in to this all important mantra of life.

The best example of kids’ attitude and openness to change is in the way they sit to build sand castles on the beach. They build the castle with love, care, attention and a lot of thought to detail. But their most delightful moment comes when they get to stamp on it, walk all over it and destroy the castle. They jump in glee, and in the celebration of this understanding of impermanence.

Tibetan monks, too, do the same. They are known to build sand mandalas by painstakingly taking grain by grain of sand and putting it together in intricate designs. Once done, they happily destroy it and move on to something else.

Buddha said that impermanence is the nature of the human condition. We know it in our minds but wish from the bottom of our hearts that it weren’t so. Resisting change makes us fall into either denial or depression.

For all their ego clashes and the desire for one-upmanship, the Ambani brothers perhaps accept this truth all too well. Even if it made the soundest business sense to partner with each other again, their egos would allow it only if they knew that nothing lasts forever anyway.

I grew up in a spacious old bungalow in a part of old Bangalore that was known for its greenery and quaint charm. The front courtyard of my house had a few trees, one of which was the parijata tree or the coral tree. During season, which extends from August to December, parijata flowers filled the tree adding to the beauty of the surroundings.

The parijata flower is small and has a flaming red stalk, holding on to which are five shapely white petals. The tree has Hindu mythology significance, too. It’s believed that Lord Krishna brought this tree to earth. Both his wives Satyabhama and Rukmini wanted the tree. So Krishna planted the tree in Satyabhama’s courtyard in such a way that the flowers, when they bloomed, fell in Rukmini’s courtyard.

Parijata flowers bloom only at night and drop from the tree when the first rays of sunlight hit them. Yet, this is the only flower that Hindus consider sacred to offer to the Gods, even when picked up from the ground. The puja room at my home was filled with parijata flowers on most days.

But, one year, for a few months during the tree’s peak season, it stopped blooming. We wondered what could be done to have the flowers bloom again.

A maternal uncle visited us and commented on how wonderfully the tree had grown. My mother told him that it’s of no use because there are no flowers. My uncle stood in front of the tree and yelled at it for five minutes, nonstop! He spoke to the tree as if it were a person and he was reprimanding it for not completing a task as promised. We joked about my uncle’s behavior that night at the dinner table and forgot about it. A week later, my mother walked into the courtyard in the morning to find the ground filled with parijata flowers.

Talking to plants is scientifically proven to improve the quality of their growth. It’s said that it doesn’t matter whether the plants are spoken to gently or in a harsh manner as long as they’re spoken to. Perhaps the parijata tree felt ignored?

When we narrated this story to a gathering of uncles and aunts, most of them in their sixties and older, they didn’t seem at all surprised. An aunt said that in the village where she grew up, she along with her siblings, walked around the garden every morning talking to the plants. In the Indian faith, she said that by scolding the parijata tree, my uncle may have removed an evil eye that prevented it from blooming to its full glory.

A TV episode of MythBusters once aired an experiment on this very phenomenon. They had three sets of plants in three different, controlled environments. They played soulful, rhythmic music to the first set of plants; a recording of swear words and shouting and yelling to the second set of plants. The third set was left to themselves to grow with no sounds or intervention. The first two sets grew equally well, and better than the third set. This proved that talking to plants, nicely or not, does help them grow better.

Why, Prince Charles admits to talking to his plants! My uncle may not have had a science project to back his behavior then. But his native intelligence sure did the trick. And a beautiful one at that!

]]> http://postnoon.com/2013/03/30/talk-to-your-plants/116997/feed 0 http://postnoon.com/2013/03/23/holi-moley/115668 http://postnoon.com/2013/03/23/holi-moley/115668#comments Sat, 23 Mar 2013 08:56:38 +0000 Sumaa Tekur http://postnoon.com/?p=115668

II was 16 when I had my first brush with Holi. In the 80s and 90s, this largely North Indian celebration had not yet percolated to the Deccan region. For a South Indian, the closest experience of Holi came from Hindi movies, in which actors and the sidekicks wore pure white and splashed each other with coloured powder and aimed water guns to take it up a notch.

I knew that groups of boys in the neighbourhood were using the festival to get playful with the girls, but I didn’t think much of it. So when I was riding my moped to college and they threw a handful of coloured powder on me, I was livid. They hid behind a tree although they knew very well that I would not react to this intrusion. Holi was this kind of festival.

Over the years, when the festival became increasingly popular, thanks to a growing North Indian population in most Indian cities down South, it became a fad for everyone – North Indian Hindu who celebrates Holi or not —to participate. I attended a couple of such gatherings with my friends but have to admit that I didn’t enjoy it much. Holi is about letting go of all inhibitions and I found it difficult to do that.

Earlier this week, I was chatting with my colleagues from the US and UK. They asked me about the preparations for Holi, and I said that I only like to watch the celebrations from a distance. One colleague commented: “Yes, it looks too messy”. This set me thinking about the tone and flavor of the festival that have been designed for it to be “messy”.

This is the one festival in the Hindu calendar when anything goes. Strangers can act goofy with each other and neighbours can splash colour on seniors, all in the name of Holi. This act of letting go is for us to give up control and experience the joy of living in the moment without fear of consequences.

Of late, new commercial forces are adding structure to this festival, which is created to avoid just that. Big scale, ticketed events with DJs playing international music, food and drink varieties to pep up the energy has become part of the celebrations. Letting go is, ironically, getting more organised.

Not just Hinduism, other cultures and religions, too, made room for this human need to cease control. A day before the Eastern Orthodox Lent, Christians in the small town of Galaxidi in Greece, throw flour on each other. They dance in gay abandon on the town’s streets and paint their faces with charcoal. Not just in Greece but also in Thailand and Tibet, the Thai New Year of Song Kran is celebrated by flour and water throwing. Flour is a symbol of good luck for Tibetans. In the tiny South American country of Ecuador, too, natives celebrate by throwing flour and water in coloured dyes at each other, much like Holi. There is also food, drink and dancing associated with the festival in the country’s Bolivar province.

In the control-freak lives that we lead today, it’s not easy to let go. This perhaps explains the morphing of the festival to sit well with the modern times. There’s colour that doesn’t stick to skin, low-fat foods for the festivities, designated areas to play Holi so that we can return to the orderliness of our lives as quickly as possible. Wonder if we’re just moving with the times or defeating the very purpose of this celebration.

In the era of high-speed internet connectivity, white smoke from the chimney atop the Sistine Chapel in Rome’s Vatican City became the main medium of communication on Wednesday. About 1.2 billion Roman Catholics from around the world, and millions more who were curious about the change in the Catholic faith, waited for white smoke to emerge from the Sistine Chapel as a signal that the new pope had been chosen.

The process for the selection of a new pope is full of rituals and ceremonies. It’s also a reminder that we respect a choice much more, especially if it went through a process of rituals, even if those rituals didn’t always have a logical explanation. The world may be changing and moving rapidly towards making human life easy and more convenient. But the rituals in the Roman Catholic Church, and for every other religion in the world for that matter, have stayed the same.

We find comfort in familiarity. Religious rites and rituals, on the surface, provide that familiarity by telling us that no matter what else changes or how our lives turn, religion will be the one where we can always find solace. Go deeper and look beneath the surface of religious rites and they give out stories of why rituals offer peace and calm to followers. Some of these rituals may have a scientific explanation but the bigger idea of making these rituals mysterious is to uphold the structure of religion and to use this mystery as a magnet to keep faithful followers together.

Every major religion in the world works on this mystique to also perhaps tell followers that they will not know everything, all the time, in their lives. They have to be open to not knowing (most of the times) why something happened or what they did wrong, and be willing to accept this uncertainty – both of the present and future.

About the centuries-old smoke ritual that is an integral part of the pope selection process, the Vatican spokesperson said that the Catholic faith has no intention of changing the tradition to suit the current-day communication speed. Rev Federico Lombardi said: “A little suspense is good for all of us. Don’t expect Swiss watch precision.” A big part of this process is that the Holy Spirit guides the cardinals to vote for the right pope.

In ancient India, when political power and religious power were both held by the king, there was no separation of church and state. Public ritual played an important role in creating the ruler-subject relationship. A king had to use public rituals to prove to the people his strong relationship with his predecessors and also the Gods. Almost always, kings were appointed as the high priest of religion and it was their duty to the people to carry out all the responsibilities of the high priest.

Today, this role takes on a more modern hue, and a complex one at that. The pope, while upholding the rituals and ceremonies that define the papal office must also reach out to the masses of followers to offer solutions to the modern world’s problems. If the papal office is unable to discharge its duties in the light of the modern expectations of followers, it would have less and less relevance. The mystery of the Catholic faith can be more charming only if it can provide simple spiritual solutions in line with modern-day needs. It’s a wait and watch to see how the new pope will deliver. He surely has the work cut out for him.

Isn’t it an idea that we fall in love with? And when we come across someone who tantalises our eyes, we attribute all those characters to their physical form and get attached to that idea: A figment of our imagination that we begin to live with, dream and aspire for and build an existence around.

One of the top stories this week was that Andrew Mason, the CEO of Groupon, the darling of online social buying, was fired. But as the week went by, what became a bigger story than his being asked to leave was his goodbye letter to his employees. Hailed by many as the best resignation letter ever and critiqued by some as too brutally honest and not in keeping with corporate culture, the letter became the centre of a debate on leadership communication styles.

Many leading newspapers and media websites reproduced the letter in full, simply because it was fascinating to read an honest letter from a company boss. Mason starts his letter like this: “After four and a half intense and wonderful years as CEO of Groupon, I’ve decided that I’d like to spend more time with my family. Just kidding — I was fired today. If you’re wondering why … you haven’ been paying attention.”

There’s humour, honesty and authenticity in his letter, which makes it refreshing in an environment where B-schools teach executives to uphold the corporate structure and ensure that all communication protects them and the CEO who is leaving. When a company’s top boss is fired, rarely is it publicly admitted. It is in the interest of both the leaving CEO and the company to stoically maintain that the executive is leaving to “pursue other opportunities” or “spend time with family” or “medical reasons”. It’s interesting how Mason uses that very peg to start his letter and pokes fun at the expected leadership communication style.

On the other hand, we have our political leaders in India, including the Gandhi family scion Rahul Gandhi, who hesitates to give media interviews or talk to the masses in the country. I was watching a mid-week TV debate a day after Gandhi’s decision to not marry made national headlines. The TV show panelists tried to decode the mystique and mystery of the Gandhi family. The very reason they’re able to hold on to that mystery is because they communicate so less with the masses. So it’s difficult to tell what their stand is on various issues of social, economic and national importance.

While Mason’s honest letter to his employees comes as a breath of fresh air in a corporate world full of doublespeak, will employees always look up to a leader who is an honest, inspiring and motivating communicator? More importantly, is this enough for a leader to bring out the best in his employees? What employees really want is for their leaders to help them connect with each other to work better within the company. Although communication style matters to a large extent in achieving this, it does not, alone, determine employee mood and performance.

Open and honest communication has a refreshing ring to it. It has the ability to take the masks off, get out of the role we’ve been given in the office, even if only for a brief period. But if all communication were this honest and straightforward, would a system function as efficiently? B-schools teach certain communication styles in order to maintain hierarchy, uphold the organisation’s values, respect its structure, and ensure equilibrium. A different communication style ruffles feathers and prompts corporates to work harder at protecting its structure. Perhaps, this didn’t matter to Mason, who found relief in his letter to employees.

Last week’s twin blasts in Hyderabad have, once again, reminded us of our weaknesses and vulnerabilities. There’s much anger even as political mudslinging and blame-shifting make a mockery of the precious lives lost and the irreversible damage to the city, and everyone directly and indirectly involved in the blasts of February 21. However, there is something each and every one of us can do to conquer fear and to prevent our minds from being terrorised.

Noted author Salam Rushdie said: “How do you defeat terrorism? Don’t be terrorised.” However insensitive this seemingly motivational remark may sound at a time when victims’ families mourn their irreplaceable loss and many injured lie in hospitals waiting for their bodies to heal and their minds to shake off the terror, it urges us to draw on our inner strength to deal with this difficult time.

Just like the mind has the power to fight bodily cancers, the mind can also fight the cancers of the soul, such as negativity, fear, worry and anxiety. Here is a list of things you can do to stop fear from taking over your mind.

1 Meditate: This may sound like the magic pill that’s given as a solution to any human problem. Fact is, it IS a magic pill. Those who practice meditation regularly can vouch for it with a lot of confidence. Get the discipline to meditate every day. It will sweep your mind of impurities just like a shower sweeps your body of dirt.

2 Monitor your intake of news and current events: The 24/7 news culture in India thrives on keeping the insecurities, fears and uncertainties of viewers alive. It becomes an addiction to watch on TV everything that can go wrong with our lives. To crown it, talk show panelists validate those reasons with their ‘expert’ opinions. Switch off. Or better still, switch to something happier.

3 Watch comedy films, listen to happy, healing music: Be careful in your choice of popular culture consumption. Avoid the movies that show bombs exploding, cars flying off roads, people running for their lives — anything that perpetuates the very fears that trigger those negative memories.

4 Work out: Like meditation, this also may seem like an oft-repeated solution to everything from a broken heart to bad health. Truth is, it gives you the opportunity to balance the energies in your body by relieving stress and anxiety by expending physical energy. Meditation and working out are complementary in many ways.

5 Eat healthy, get good sleep:

A bad diet, lack of nutrition and inadequate sleep can negate all the positive effects

of anything else you may be doing in order to restore balance and calm in your life. It’s always best to get back to the basics to maintain balance and ensure that the body and mind respond correctly to the environment.

6 Covert all negative thoughts into positive thoughts immediately. It all boils down to how well we are able to train our minds to think in a certain way. There are times when the mind needs more of help and assistance. It may need more active stilling and calming. Make every negative a positive to win over your mind and defeat fear. Hyderabad has a fighting spirit, which it must draw upon at this time and show the world that it will not cower down to terrorism.

AA close friend’s birthday party earlier this week was the cause of both excitement and dread. Excitement to the die-hard Bollywood fans amongst the invitees, and dread to those who were caught up in the more serious issues of life, including work and such like, who couldn’t indulge their desires. The Bollywood-themed costume party was an ode to the power of role play, especially for those who made the effort to find just the perfect costume and the right accessories to complete the look.

There was Vidya Balan in Kahaani. She had a pillow tied to her belly under her printed dress. She carried a water bottle, and walked into the party with a suitcase on wheels. There were other Vidya Balans, too, with Kanjeevaram and silk sarees. There was Babli from Bunty aur Babli. Her colourful kurti, baggy salwar, bangles and flowers in her hair, made her a conspicuous figure on the dance floor. There was Shilpa Shetty in her trademark animal print dress from the song, Churake Dil Mera, prancing around trees with another Bollywood hottie Akshay Kumar. All to say that the enthusiastic dressers outdid the others.

There was loose creativity, high imagination and the opportunity to get social, even with people one had just met. The relaxed atmosphere, music and ambience helped the cause. But the theme served as a conversation starter, breaking the ice with the most reluctant guests. Role play is powerful in helping teams develop social skills in a non-intimidating, fun environment. There’s escape, enjoyment and relaxation all rolled into one.

Role play gives one the opp­ortunity to be someone else for those few hours and play out hi­s/her dreams and aspirations. The hugely popular video game, Second Life, plays on this very concept of giving users an identity contrary to their own, so th­at they can experience being an­o­ther character and doing all the things they cannot otherwi­se do. After all, the entire wor­l­d’s a stage and we are but actors.

Role play gives us an escape from the daily humdrum of life. It allows us the luxury of going beyond the personal boundaries we have set for ourselves and to be someone we cannot be everyday of our lives. We can ditch the comfort zone within which we operate, in order to explore a wilder, more fun side to ourselves. When there’s too much control in the other areas of our lives at all times – controlling time, controlling relationships, controlling work, controlling daily tasks – role play allows us the freedom to get away from the clutches of control to explore another terrain.

Becoming someone else for a short period of time gives us the opportunity to bend the rules and test out limits in how far we’re willing to go. It’s all about living in the moment and having a laugh at seriousness. But this fun side is only possible when there is a social exchange, when there is a communication with someone who understands the naughtiness of the role play. We do it for ourselves, at the end of the day – to indulge our desires and to express our sub-conscious motivations in a non-threatening way. Needless to say, the guests who made the effort to dress up in a costume had a lot of fun. But the observers had their share of laughs, too. For, without the observers, part of the humour would be lost.

News of Pope Benedict XVI resigning has elicited a mixed response from around the globe. Some groups used this opportunity to bring to light the child sex scandals that rocked the religious structure. Other groups have praised the Pope’s decision born of his ability to recognize his limitations and take such a difficult stand. The Pope is, after all, a man and not a superhuman who can afford to pump strength into his being against the will of nature. The Pope’s resignation has also been hailed as a modern decision, especially since he became the first Pope in six centuries to voluntarily give up office.

Not everyone can work for as long, or as hard, as they want to. It takes a combination of luck, health and circumstances to make this happen. I’ve known people who work till their very last day – not out of necessity but because they know no other way to live. A Tamilian neighbor, N Sitaraman, from many years ago is one such inspiring example. He retired 20 years ago but hasn’t stopped working. He took up many consultant and voluntary work assignments. These keep him busy all the time. His infectious enthusiasm, his curiosity to learn new things and gain new experiences aid him in his continued quest for good quality work. He has even started his own companies and sold them off to find something more challenging.

He’s not easily intimidated by new technology, as many others his age (he’s well into his mid-80s now) are. He learns how to operate a new gadget – a cellphone or tablet – with the same enthusiasm of learning how to cook a new dish. His child-like curiosity and his eagerness to discover, explore, learn and grow, have all made him a storehouse of knowledge and experience, technical or otherwise. His wife has been his biggest support through all his crazy experiments. So has his health. He has been able to control his health largely through a strict vegetarian diet and also a good exercise regimen. Despite that, his age could slow him down but it hasn’t. His health has stayed with him through his plans and intentions for big ideas and work.

Unlike Mr Sitaraman, there are many others who aren’t as lucky with their health. Like Mr Sitaraman, they may have many plans for their retired lives and old age, but their bodies just don’t keep up. There’s only that much one can push nature. It takes a lot for a person in a top post to give it all up. It’s also very frustrating. The Pope’s spirituality is being tested at this time. His decision to give up office has perhaps been his response to a growing inner conflict of performing his duties versus giving in to his health concerns. The latter has won. But the bigger winner is the positive decision of Pope Benedict XVI, which makes way for a new Pope and new hope for followers of the Catholic faith.

There’s a huge sign in this for seniors who hold on to their posts when younger able bodies are waiting in line. Indian politicians should perhaps take a cue from this and gracefully step aside to make way for a younger leadership. They could focus on voluntary social service. Amen to that!

No matter how hard we try, it is difficult to escape the commercial trappings of St Valentine’s Day on 14 February every year. Closer to Valentine’s Day, the radio plays mushy songs all day; reruns of the most soppy romance movies of all time dominate practically every TV channel; cafes and restaurants dress up in passionate reds, soft candle glows and heart-shaped balloons; gift shops stock up on greeting cards and gifts for courting lovers of all ages, both married and unmarried; salons offer age-defying beauty treatments so that their clients can look their charming best when out on a date on V-day; travel companies announce holiday packages for a quick romantic getaway with the loved one…. there’s really no escaping the numerous reminders of this day of love.

It can also be nauseating for singles, especially if they’re uncomfortable with their relationship status. When this western import started making an impact on young couples in love in the land of the Kamasutra, religious fundamentalists saw red (not the shade of the rose). They attacked gift shops and commercial establishments that promoted this day dedicated to love.

In the last few years, the Hindu festival of Karva Chauth, in which the wife fasts for her husband to pray for his long life and wellbeing, became romanticised into the Indian version of Valentine’s Day. Valentine’s Day may have had something to do with it to some extent. Bollywood movies centred around Punjabi characters definitely had a lot to do with it. Teen girls started fasting for their boyfriends.

And in a reversal of trends, with the aim of going mainstream, gay couples are reported to have started fasting for each other. However, this hasn’t affected the enthusiasm for Valentine’s Day. It continues to get media airtime and the consuming public’s attention.

I’ve seen my single friends frown upon the idea of Valentine’s Day but celebrate it with enthusiasm anyway once they find a romantic partner. Resistance to the temptation of this festival lasts only as long as one doesn’t have a reason to celebrate it. Then again, what’s wrong with celebrating love, even knowing very well the commercial forces that guide such a day?

We’re a busy people. Either we’re genuinely busy or we pretend to be busy because it’s cooler to tell society that we’re stressed out and have little me-time or relationship-time.

When we’re constantly trying to balance all the aspects of our lives — career, money, home, relationships, family — shouldn’t such a day dedicated to the romantic interest come as a relief to force us to take out that time?

Why not make it a ceremony? Forget the cards, candlelight dinners, titillating lingerie, aphrodisiacs, perfumes and the long love notes. Use this as a day to say thank-you to your partner for all the wonderful things he/she has done for you till date. Let it be a reminder to you that you need to be grateful. Use it as a day to renew your vows. Think of all the reasons you’re with each other. Send out positive vibes. Think of the fun times you’ve shared, and the goof-ups during your initial days of dating/marriage.

There’s nothing more wonderful than getting nostalgic and going back to a time and place when you felt secure and more in love. It’s a stress-reliever like no other. Make V-day your personalised ceremony. Rituals anchor us and remind us of our roots and existence. Celebrate in your own way, even if it’s just sitting in front of the TV to watch an old black-and-white favourite show. Just, let the energy exchange on this day be positive.

Can a dip in a river wash away all your sins? It can, if you believe it can. Millions, who gather at the Maha Kumbh Mela in Allahabad for the greatest spiritual spectacle on earth, believe it can. These scores of believers fight all odds to visit the Kumbh Mela to bathe in the Ganges.

Faith does not discriminate between the rich and poor. If there were believers who travelled in overloaded trains and buses, there were saints who chartered private helicopters to the Kumbh Mela.

There were sadhus who couldn’t afford a meal a day and there were sadhus who brought along a troop of assistants to make the experience comfortable. Some believers put up in makeshift tents and survived the cold with blankets donated at the mela. They warmed themselves around campfires set up randomly across the mela venue. Some others got cosy in their private quarters with hot food, a clean place to shower and retire for the night. Rich or poor, the believers all eventually take a dip in the same waters.

Age is no barrier to faith either. Though media images perpetuate the old-sadhu-in-ochre-robes-with-flowing-white-beard stereotype, there are many believers young in biological age (but perhaps older in soul age) who undertake the rituals that they may not necessarily have been taught by anyone. They go by the intuitive feel of the ritual and somehow know deep within that it will benefit them in some unseen ways. Faith doesn’t have a rural-urban divide either.

Though curious tourists are known to have visited from urban areas, many were not any less of believers. Faith has little to go with being educated or uneducated.

Faith can move locals and foreigners alike. It is that unflinching belief in something sublime. The tourist camp is said to have hosted over 1,000 foreigners at the Kumbh Mela this year, from Europe and South America. Many of them were first-time visitors to India while others were repeat visitors who came back for the cultural experience that only a country like India can provide. They were thrown out of their comfort zone to such an extent that it became spiritual because they had no choice but to deal with the change. The Kumbh Mela has no dearth of experiences for the novelty seekers.

Devara Baba, a saint who is believed to be over 200 years old was a tourist draw at the mela. Devara Baba is said to be a celibate yogi who has lost count of how many years he has lived. He says that he bathes only in the Ganges and drinks only water from the Ganga. And this is his secret to long life. He is a strict vegetarian and believes in soaking the sunlight during the day. Many walked the long walk to his ashram to get his blessings or to just be photographed alongside this old baba.

All visitors to the mela, whether tourists or devout believers, travelled with the same intention of getting something out of visit. Some wanted great photographs and stories to enrich their cultural experience. Some others wanted salvation, which they believe can be theirs with a dip in the holy river. The desire to rid oneself of bad karma is universal. If there was a sure way to do it, who wouldn’t want to?

In 2010, when champion golfer Tiger Woods made a public apology about his troubled marital life and all the pain and hurt it caused his family, friends and professional associates, I thought it was very brave of Woods (though it was choreographed and scripted to the T). Most achievers in public life would have pushed themselves to the top aided by their narcissism and their ability to attract attention and keep it.

For a man of his stature, it must be so difficult to face all those cameras and a billion-plus people to say sorry. But he did it, and with that apology, he made a new beginning.

Last Friday, when I sat to watch the first of the two-part interview of cycling great Lance Armstrong by American talk show host Oprah Winfrey, I didn’t get the same feeling. Armstrong’s admissions were far from being even a half apology.

He remained defiant through the interview and added conditions to any admission of wrongdoing. That itself defeats the purpose of an apology because the very first step in apologising is to acknowledge the pain and hurt you’ve caused another person.

I’m not so sure Armstrong is yet fully aware of the extent to which his misdeeds have ruined trust, confidence, others’ sporting careers and relationships.

It’s true that a person in public life finds it hard to apologise or even admit to have done anything wrong. While his fans and followers thought that an unconditional apology may set the tone for a fresh start, and waited to hear it during the interview, it ended up being an anti-climax. Maybe because his deeds had crossed all limits that an apology could repair to even a small extent.

He may have survived cancer, fought the odds and won his daily battles. But by lying, cheating and bullying his associates, he has undone the respect he earned over the years.

People apologise because they want to mend relationships. It’s true for both personal and public apologies. In public apologies, the stakes are higher because social trust would have suffered a great deal.

In the case of Armstrong, it suffered the most considering that the Livestrong Foundation was based on Armstrong’s personality and his life principles. When that foundation crumbled, the damage was too huge. It might be too early for a turnaround and for serious repairs considering how hurt people are.

But, going by the interview, Armstrong didn’t seem like he was at that stage yet where he wanted to initiate those serious repairs in relationships.

Many sportswriters who had idolised Armstrong over the years wrote that the interview and his so-called admission to doping and the so-called apology were an epic fail.

The control freak in him simply wouldn’t allow him to surrender to a sincere apology. He expressed regret but the remorse in his tone and voice were missing.

To say sorry the right way is not everyone’s cup of tea. I sincerely hope that Armstrong surrenders himself to the truth first before he can even begin to make amends to his life. When he surrenders to his truth, he will be in a better place to apologise and be sorry.All that his fans and the people he wronged want is not his apology, but for him to be sorry.

]]> http://postnoon.com/2013/01/26/lance-armstrong-and-the-art-of-apology/104853/feed 0 http://postnoon.com/2013/01/19/power-of-acceptance/103275 http://postnoon.com/2013/01/19/power-of-acceptance/103275#comments Sat, 19 Jan 2013 08:13:09 +0000 Sumaa Tekur http://postnoon.com/?p=103275

It’s the people that make a place beautiful. People make a culture meaningful, and people make an experience memorable. During my recent travels, I met an interesting man, who knew how to live in the moment, value relationships, fight the odds that life threw at him and balance his desires and aspirations. That Chaminda S Leelan is a PADI-certified scuba diving instructor in the island nation of Sri Lanka perhaps has a lot to do with his unique characteristics. He knows how to navigate life in the deep end, and values the opportunities that come his way.

Between managing the daily chores at the dive centre and comforting first-time snorkelers and divers, Chaminda is a walking example of how travelling can change one’s worldview. He has been a diving instructor for the last 14 years and took over the reins of his father’s diving school, Poseidon Diving Station, in Hikkaduwa and Trincomalee, Sri Lanka. Like a fish taking to water, Chaminda admits that he’s most comfortable in water. He can stay in water, swimming, diving, snorkeling, or just floating, for as long as he can. On one evening, when dark grey clouds broke into sheets of rain, the rest of the swimmers rushed to the shelter by the seaside but Chaminda went in the opposite direction and dove right into the sea for a swim.

It doesn’t take a lot to get Chaminda talking. You only need to express and honest curiosity to get to know him through his experiences. He has travelled the world, diving in different seas, different environments and with different groups. The main life takeaway from all these rich experiences, he says, is to be true to yourself and to whoever you’re interacting with. From a distance, it looks as though his life is one big vacation day after day. He does enjoy the travels, meeting people and the diving world with its inherent nature of enjoyment and exploration of another world. It reminds him every day that there’s also another world out there, and perhaps many more that we aren’t even aware of. This has, to a very large extent, shaped his worldview – as also the tsunami of 2004 that wreaked havoc on the coastal areas of Sri Lanka.

Chaminda’s eyes reflect the horror, the depth of which only he can ever understand. He lost his diving centre to the wrath of nature. He remembers vividly that the black t-shirt and an underwater watch he was wearing at the time was all he was left with. This, to Chaminda, was the life-changing moment. He directed all his energy and motivation to re-building his father’s diving centre.

He picked up new skills and learnt how to manage people and businesses. Post this experience, his life has been one big discovery — of people and experiences. He’s more alive every moment, opens his heart out to people more easily, is more curious to learn about other countries and cultures, is committed to preserving nature, and is eager to live in the moment always.

It’s not what happens to us but how we react to it that makes us who we are. Chaminda has made nature his best friend and he’s ever ready and willing to be part of the ebb and flow that is nature’s way. This is the true meaning of acceptance and the power of a meaningful existence.

The island of Sri Lanka is full of surprises and has its own unique brand of identity, although Indians are always tempted to draw parallels to parts of India. The beach destination of Hikkaduwa is a lot like a mix between Kerala and Goa. Kandy is a lot like the lush Nilgiris, etc. On one cloudy afternoon during my annual vacation, I stepped out of the resort in Hikkaduwa to take in the beauty of the rain-swept roads and the freshly cleaned leaves quivering in the gentle breeze.

Much to the frustration of my friends, I lost my way in the winding roads and spotted a sign with an arrow that said ‘Buddhist temple’. I followed the narrow road, passed a stream by which was a huge boat under repair. I saw monks in ochre robes stepping out of the temple. An old monk got into a tuk tuk (the Sri Lankan word for autorickshaw). Fascinated by the scenic surroundings and the monk in an auto, I requested for him to pose for a photograph. He smiled and willingly agreed.

Another monk who saw him off and was headed back to the temple struck up a conversation with me. We walked together up the flight of stairs to an openi­ng, which housed a pagoda and many small structures with id­ols of the different avatars of Bu­­ddha. It was the most peacef­ul and quiet temple I had visited in a long time. A young boy, a student who was training to be a monk, showed me inside the temple and explained its history.

A large bodhi tree stretched out its branches at the centre of the temple. A young Sinhalese couple offered their prayers un­der the tree. They lit incense sticks and sat down to enjoy the peace and quiet. I wasn’t carrying any incense sticks and ask­ed the temple caretaker for dir­e­ctions to the nearest store whe­re I could buy some. The couple immediately offered some ince­nse sticks for me to use. I said my prayers and sat next to th­em. The lady opened a small prayer book, from which she started chanting mantras. I whi­spered to the man if the langu­age was Sinhalese. He nodded.

I didn’t understand a word of the chants. But I sat there listening till she finished the entire prayer. The tone of the chants and the lilt in her voice were soothing. Mantras can be used for healing, even if we don’t understand them at the conscious level. The sound vibrations have a way of reaching out to our sub-conscious mind and alter the way we feel.

There’s a difference between chanting mantras by knowing their meaning and chanting without understanding the meaning. In the former, the health benefits will be more because emotions and expressions in the meaning of the mantras invoke the devotee’s intentions more strongly. However, being a listener or bystander and taking in the new sounds also have advantages. This overtone chanting emits vibrations and energies that heal at a deep level without necessarily going through the listener’s mind. I was the recipient of these benefits and will be grateful to the smiling, devout couple who allowed me to sit next to them and listen to their prayers.It’s true that new places and new experiences often have the ability to give us the joys that familiar people and surroundings may not.

I’m often asked to do Tarot readings on a good time to start something – a diet plan, a new job, an exercise regimen, the process to quit smoking, etc. My answer, without consulting the cards, would first be to start now. Then I check with the cards, and for most readings, the answer is the same. Why put off till tomorrow what you can do today?

Another New Year has already begun. Add new thinking to this fresh start and it has the potential to reward you with something you haven’t experienced before. Here are a few things you can put on your bucket list for 2013.

1. Travel well: There’s a difference between simply travelling and travelling well. A popular saying goes that the best travelers are those not intent on arriving. Enjoy the journey and the destination will unfold before you in new, exciting ways. Visit at least one place you haven’t been to.

Talk to people you wouldn’t otherwise speak to when travelling. Collect the experience rather than travel brochures and picture postcard-perfect photographs. Collect memories and stories. Spend some time in the main marketplace. Feel the energy, its ebb and flow to get a sense of the real culture of the place.

2. Make new friends: ‘No time’ is often our refrain for making the effort to meet new people. Sign up for a class, any class. It could be music lessons, painting classes, pottery, or anything where you have the potential to meet interesting people. Get to know them — not just where they work, where they live or how they spend their weekends.

Get to know the real person behind these social constructs. Ask them what they like, what bothers them, why they are attending these classes. Make at least one new friend this year.

3. Meditate: If you’re already meditating, try different relaxation techniques. We’re in the New Age, where humans are increasingly finding new ways to connect with the self. Meditation can be in listening to soothing music to painting to cooking to gardening to playing badminton or even playing with a pet.

Find your comfort zone and make an effort to connect with yourself or a few minutes every day. This is needed for long-term cleansing of the mind and soul. This may not seem urgent but it most certainly is important.

4. Learn a new skill: It could be a new language, baking classes, management techniques or classes on how to ride a motorbike. Do anything that is not connected with your job. And do this with no motive to utilise this for profit at a later date.

Learn a new skill for the joy of learning. It will open up your mind to another world you aren’t too familiar with.

It is an important reminder that we need to center ourselves frequently so that we don’t get too caught up in defining who we are based on our job designations or our family roles.

5. Spend time with kids: Kids can ask the most creative questions and make us wonder what if the world was truly that crazy. They motivate us to remove ourselves from the daily routines we build for the sake of convenience, and continue to ask pertinent questions.

Real education, after all, is about being able to question everything. We learn truly by asking lots of questions. And who better than kids, untouched by the expectations of the harsh adult world, to teach us to realign our place in society.

]]> http://postnoon.com/2013/01/05/now-is-a-good-time/100622/feed 0 http://postnoon.com/2012/12/29/to-a-balanced-2013/98494 http://postnoon.com/2012/12/29/to-a-balanced-2013/98494#comments Sat, 29 Dec 2012 09:41:13 +0000 Sumaa Tekur http://postnoon.com/?p=98494

The world didn’t end. What it did was to restore hope and shift our focus to the present. As we get set to enter 2013, there are a few takeaways from 2012 worth revisiting from the prism of daily news and trends from around the world.

1. CONTROL: Some things remain the same. Nature remains unpredictable. As Hurricane Sandy devastated parts of the Caribbean, Mid-Atlantic and North-Eastern US, we are reminded, yet again, that we are small and helpless when faced with Nature’s fury. It’s a leveler, and also a reminder that the Control Freak personalities in us can only go this far.

2. COMPETITION: Compe­tition remains a powerful human instinctual drive. Take the US presidential elections, for example, where the intellectual debates attempted to show how the competing parties are so non-competitive. Towards the end of the elections, this desire for competition threw up its other face — cooperation.

3. POWER: The numerous walkouts and games played by stalwarts in Indian politics while debating FDI in retail in the Parliament were equally entertaining and frustrating. It gave us a glimpse of just how low our elected representatives are willing to stoop in order to get their own way. It was also a shameless display of the hunger for power in the name of the country’s progress.

4. HARMONY: Never mind the girl in the red sweater waving to the crowds at the opening of the London Olympics 2012. India got its biggest medal haul yet at the games. But the bigger story was one of harmony and community feeling. No matter how high nationalistic sentiments ran, or which country they call home, the games showed us that money is not everything. Values like integrity, honesty, honor and fairness weigh more heavily.

5. AMBITION: Felix Baumgartner’s supersonic freefall from the edge of space reminds us of the human desire for breaking records and creating new ones. This jump was a salute to the human motivation to be the best, to be the first, to push the limits and to redefine the possible.

6. FUN: In entertainment, there are no rules to what clicks and what doesn’t. The only formula is that a formulaic process rarely ever works.

Last year, it was Kolaveri Di. This year, it was Psy’s Gangnam style. Socio-analysts have unsuccessfully attempted to box it into a genre and style. The only things that worked are that it entertained people, made them smile and distracted them from their daily troubles for a bit.

7. JUSTICE: People Power is here to stay. The 23-year-old Delhi gangrape victim was flown to Singapore for treatment. On the ground, youth and police clashed in a head-on collision of not just ideas but also deep-seated anger. It started as a women’s issue but snowballed into one of the biggest protests in recent times seeking justice.

8. COMPLETION: An era came to an end. The cricketing world’s master blaster Sachin Tendulkar hung up his boots, retiring from the one-day format of the game. His fans and friends bid goodbye to Tendulkar, dubbed the God of Cricket.

This loosely put together list has a sprinkling of different values that motivate us. Step back a little and you’ll notice a balancing of various factors.

It’s never too much of one thing. Every bad has a good countering it. And every negativity has a positivity to tilt the scales. And so goes the Wheel of Life.

Here’s wishing you a very happy, and balanced, 2013!

Charmingly decorated Christmas trees of all sizes are popping up on the timeline of social networking sites that I subscribe to. The cheer is in the air. Christians and non-Christians alike are putting up Christmas trees at home. It’s such a universal symbol of life and hope.

The tree, any tree and not just the Christmas tree, teaches us many things. It tells us that it’s important to be flexible with our choices and decisions in life where key friendships and relationships are concerned. Just like the flexibility of the branches and leaves of the tree, we should compromise and adjust our lives to make room for important people. But our principles and values are like the roots, which are firm and strong. If we compromise on those, we stand to lose. When life’s winds blow at us, we will most likely bend than break. The initial years of education and nourishment, both for the body and mind, will ensure that our roots are strong.

The tree also teaches us to adapt to our surroundings well and be part of nature. Our lives are full of worries — of everyday needs, desires and concerns. But a tree always takes pleasure in being a part of its environment. It enhances the surroundings and also takes what it can from whatever’s around it. It gives in the form of shade, beauty, fruit, shelter, etc. It’s a part of nature without making a fuss. Our lives would be so much more enriching if we could connect with our environment and grow with nature in the most steady and natural way without worrying or clamouring for more.

The tree is a metaphor for eternal life and an analogy of the family tree. The roots are our ancestors. As the tree grows and many branches stretch out, the family grows.

People who come into our lives can also be classified based on the different parts of the tree. There are some people who are like the leaves and branches. They are seasonal. When the wind blows, they move in the direction of the wind. They’re unstable. When the season changes, they wither and die. Many of the people who come into our lives fall in this category, including our hundreds of friends on Facebook and any other networking site. They’re there because they want to know something from you or they want to tell you something.

But they’re not the all-weather friends.

Some people are like the branches of a tree. Some are very tricky because they give the perception of being strong but when you step on them, they break. Depending on such type of friends can be harmful.

These are the kind of people who will promise much but give little when push comes to shove.

Few people in our lives are like the roots of a tree. Each of us is lucky to have a few friends like these but we should identify them and treasure them well. They are there with us through thick and thin. They’re not with us for a purpose. When in need, they’re always around to help without asking for anything in return. They anchor us and make us feel special. They’re not keen on showing off the friendship.

In our lives, there are many leaves, some branches but very few roots.

The tree is a reminder of all the things that need reminding. What better time to revisit the people in our lives than at the end of another year. Who are the roots in your life? Maybe you should thank them.

]]> http://postnoon.com/2012/12/22/the-tree-of-life/96748/feed 0 http://postnoon.com/2012/12/15/top-five-pandit-sutras/94823 http://postnoon.com/2012/12/15/top-five-pandit-sutras/94823#comments Sat, 15 Dec 2012 08:00:48 +0000 Sumaa Tekur http://postnoon.com/?p=94823

Sitar legend Pandit Ravi Shankar’s 92-year rich and fulfilling life is an inspiration for anyone wishing to get a few tips on navigating the tricky twists and turns that life often throws upon us. He aged gracefully, gave his last concert with an oxygen mask on, enjoyed life’s downs as well as the ups, and never shied away from hard work and perseverance. No doubt, he was chosen to receive the gift of talent. But by the way he chose to live life, Pandit Ravi Shankar created his own unique brand of spirituality. Here’s a pick of the top five life mantras that set him apart.

Don’t take life, or yourself, so seriously: One of the reasons Pandit Ravi Shankar’s greatness only grew with time is because he never let success get to his head. He once said: “People say that I’m great. Most of the time I don’t believe them.” He had grown beyond the trappings of instant success and material wealth. Life is about cracking a joke in the present moment, about smiling and making people smile. Even his concerts had an element of fun. Between renditions, he would often resort to humour to lighten the mood.

Travel well, meet people, forge friendships: Almost all of Pandit Ravi Shankar’s education has been outside of the structure of formal learning. He spent two years in school in Banaras and then a year and half in Paris learning French. The rest of his education came from travelling, meeting people, learning about the world through them, experiencing life in the here and now. It was while travelling that he made some amazingly famous friendships that only further enhanced his position as a truly global musician. One must either read a lot or travel a lot to learn about life. Panditji did the latter well.

Youth is a state of mind: Time and age showed on Pandit Ravi Shankar’s face. The wrinkles were testimony to his experience but his eyes belied his true age. His eyes expressed a youthful charm, a naughty smile and a curiosity to learn more and engage with youngsters to rediscover his own youth. He once said that he was lucky to have two young daughters. Through them, he saw the world in new, youthful light.

Perseverance is precious: Tough times make us stronger. How a person manages stress is a good indicator of his mental strength. Pandit Ravi Shankar, too, went through his share of turbulent times. It’s no secret that he experienced the toughest emotional time for 7-8 years with his daughter Norah Jones, who wanted to sever ties with him. During this time, he didn’t know where Norah was or how she was doing. He never gave up. He was patient and Norah eventually came around, he said.

Follow your curiosity: Pandit Ravi Shankar would have stayed in the traditional realm of classical Indian music had it not been for his immense curiosity and hunger to experiment. He wanted to push the limits of his versatility and try different combinations. He wasn’t afraid to get out there and experiment but he always stayed true to his tradition. He tried new fusion, new sounds, new instruments and new collaborations, but was always rooted to Indian music and all that it gave him. He never strayed from his roots to ever corrupt the music form.

]]> http://postnoon.com/2012/12/15/top-five-pandit-sutras/94823/feed 0 http://postnoon.com/2012/12/08/a-spiritual-connection/93052 http://postnoon.com/2012/12/08/a-spiritual-connection/93052#comments Sat, 08 Dec 2012 07:12:54 +0000 Sumaa Tekur http://postnoon.com/?p=93052

We often participate in a prayer or a puja without really knowing the significance of all the rituals. We just follow them because we’re asked to. With another year coming to an end, my parents decided to perform the Ganapathi homa to invite good luck, health and prosperity for all at home and outside. Hectic preparations were on and we sat for the puja. A young priest from the temple, a techie by profession and a Hindu temple priest by hobby, decided to give us a short lesson in Hindu rituals before we started the puja. Those words made the rituals so much more meaningful that even the Sanskrit verses that I otherwise didn’t understand made sense.

Creation of the idol: While preparations were on for the puja, the priest drew a perfect, colourful rangoli of Ganesha. An image to look to for worship gives our prayer focus and direction, he said.

The unique appearance of Ganesha is also rich with significance. The large elephant-head signifies wisdom, understanding and intellect. These, according to Hindu dharma, are necessary in order to strive for perfection in life. The large ears signify that one must be willing to listen more than one speaks. It’s important to hear other people out before drawing conclusions. The trunk symbolizes twin qualities. One is the power of the human mind. The mind must be made so strong that it can face any obstacle and inconsistencies in everyday dealings. At the same time, it must also possess the delicate intuition to deal with the spiritual side of everyday life. The two tusks denote the yin and yang, in a way. The right and left sides of the brain must be equally balanced. There must be place for both emotion as well as intellect. All decisions must be taken by keeping in mind a balance of the two. The broken left tusk indicates that too much emotion can also be detrimental to smooth living. One must conquer one’s emotions through intellect in order to attain perfect balance.

Bell: The bell is common to almost all religions of the world. In Hinduism, it takes a prominent place. The ringing of the bell invokes the attention of the Gods. It also drowns out any noises and inappropriate environmental sounds so that the priest can focus on the prayers. The ringing of the bell produces the Om sound, the universal name of God.

The havan: This invokes the Sun God in the form of Agni (God of Fire). A havan has neutralizing effects. It kills anger, tension and any other negative emotions not just within us but also in the environment. It re-energizes the body’s chakras and invigorates the mind by bringing peace and calm. An invisible protective shield is formed around the place where the havan is performed. It’s also an opportunity to get rid of any bad karma for those performing or participating in the puja.

We may not know the meaning of the Sanskrit verses but the priest’s explanation gave us motivation to simply be ‘here and now’ at the havan. Our presence, and more importantly our faith, was enough to benefit us. It’s a physical way to re-tune the mind towards peace and tranquility.

Meditation, no doubt, serves a similar purpose. But with the physical tools of fire, water, bell and verses, we perhaps find it easier to make that spiritual connection.

A recent news report about an act of magnanimity reassured me that the world has not all gone to the dogs. The Sri Venkateswara University in Andhra Pradesh took the decision to postpone its engineering exams by an entire week in order to enable the students of one of the colleges affiliated to it, to collect money to save a student’s life.

The report first appeared in the ‘Star of Mysore’, and was then reproduced in the blog, ‘Churmuri’. Esther Preethi is a final year engineering degree student in NBKR institute of Technology in Nellore. Esther was recently diagnosed with liver complications, which later led to liver failure. She was recommended liver transplant at the earliest. Esther is the daughter of a taxi driver in Madanpalli, Chittoor district, Andhra Pradesh. Her family could not gather the Rs 50 lakh required for the transplant. Esther’s classmates and college friends decided to seek donations from many different sources to help Esther and her family.

About 540 students from Esther’s batch in college approached the college director, V Vijayakumar Reddy, asking for permission to stay away from classes in order to go out and collect the required funds. The college was touched by the students’ determination to save their friend’s life, and not only agreed to their absence from class but also made a donation to the Esther fund.

The students then organised themselves into 30 groups and spread out to every nook and corner of Nellore town. They even went to nearby villages to seek donations. Now, the students’ examinations were also around the corner. So they again approached the college management to request the university’s vice-chancellor to postpone the exams so that the students can make up for lost study time. In a perhaps unprecedented decision, the university agreed, showing that true education goes beyond bookish knowledge.

It’s heartening to find an education system get out of its cloak of discipline, structure, attendance, exams and mark sheets, to show students the importance of more humane values, such as compassion, kindness, helping and sharing. The university, by this simple act of giving its students more time to study and showing that they were on the students’ side, would have no doubt won the students’ hearts and given them a reason to help fellow human beings when they can in future, too.

Esther Preethi’s story is one of People Power, of different groups getting together for a common cause and pitching in with what they had – time, willingness to help and the power of group effort.

Our souls are craving to see more of the old-world goodness. Most of us miss a world where strangers smiled at each other more often, youngsters offered their seat to seniors in the bus and we allowed someone who’s in a hurry to break the queue because his urgency was genuine. We live in a very uncertain world, in which we constantly look for stability, reason and profit to make up for all those fragmented areas of our lives that are out of our control. One certain way is to give back, to create a legacy that’s worth emulating. The student, along with the college and university’s support are surely on the right track.

As India woke up to the news of the hanging of Ajmal Kasab, the lone surviving gunman of the 26/11 terror attacks in Mumbai in 2008, citizens, especially Mumbaikars and those who experienced irreversible personal loss during the attacks, were again forced to deal with a mix of strong emotions that resurfaced. There was hurt, anger, grief, disgust, sorrow, and now, after hearing of the news of Kasab’s hanging, maybe relief.

The 24/7 breathless coverage of TV new channels repeatedly mentioned the concept of ‘closure’. Kasab’s hanging, they suggested, would make the kin of those who lost their lives in 26/11 find at least partial relief in the justice they believe had been served. One such survivor of 26/11 said on national TV that she “erupted with joy” at the news she woke up to, on Wednesday. She was happy and wanted to celebrate, and then she broke down. Had she found her closure?

Although Kasab is the face that came to be associated with the enemy who perpetrated the terror attacks on innocent Mumbaikars for four relentless days, it’s difficult to imagine that the families of those 166 victims, and many other survivors, would be hinging on Kasab’s fate to deal with their own agony and hurt. Four years is not a very long time when it comes to dealing with the loss of a loved one. But in four years, those who were affected would have taken their first steps toward healing and moving on and away from the painful memories of the attacks. So did Kasab’s death bring relief and closure?

Closure is usually a process, and hardly a one-time emotional investment that improves a situation. The mixed reactions of the kin of victims and survivors of 26/11 suggested that they were all at different stages of that crucial process of closure. Those who invested emotionally in Kasab’s trial and felt that avenging him would bring them peace may have experienced the most relief on Wednesday. But those who disconnected themselves from Kasab’s trial and dealt with deeper spiritual issues of forgiveness, compassion and love tended to speak of the larger problem of terrorism and how Kasab’s hanging doesn’t end the problem.

That said, all of us have our own unique mechanisms to find closure to situations that are beyond our control, and to which we have no choice but to accept and move on. Some of us secretly expect an apology though we may say we don’t. Those last words of Kasab promising in the name of Allah that he will never do such a thing again, would have been like a flood of relief washing their troubled souls.

Every one of us finds a spot for emotional and spiritual closure in which we release the pain and toxic memories that prevent us from forming new, positive relationships. We unload the burden and set ourselves free. We can do this by asking for forgiveness, or by forgiving or by coming to terms with a difficult situation through constant communication. We know we have found closure when we remove ourselves from the process and let fate decide the future course.

In doing this, we end the cycle of karma related to that event. To many Mumbaikars and Indians, Wednesday was perhaps the day a karmic cycle ended. It might have also brought them closer to their goal in the pursuit of emotional closure.

]]> http://postnoon.com/2012/11/24/kasab-closure-karma/89805/feed 0 http://postnoon.com/2012/11/17/the-wheel-of-fortune/88428 http://postnoon.com/2012/11/17/the-wheel-of-fortune/88428#comments Sat, 17 Nov 2012 06:55:30 +0000 Sumaa Tekur http://postnoon.com/?p=88428

It’s hard to tell what Vijay Mallya is thinking these days — harder to gauge how he’s feeling. Merely days after he adamantly said that he wouldn’t be selling his family silver to save his grounded Kingfisher Airlines, he went ahead and did just that. His associates, rivals and friends made clucking sounds and offered sympathies, no matter how they actually felt about the liquor baron’s decision. Some said, a national newspaper reported, that Mallya is very rational and would not have made this move unless it made sound business sense. In the same breath, they also said that Mallya is very passionate about all the businesses he builds — a dichotomy that’s difficult to understand.

British spirits giant Diageo bought 53.4% stake in Vijay Mallya’s United Spirits for over $2 billion. United Spirits is India’s largest liquor company, which has 55% market share. Mallya insisted that the deal was cracked in order to better his liquor business and that it has nothing to do with giving a lifeline to Kingfisher Airlines. The timing of this deal has made everyone believe that it will eventually save Kingfisher Airlines. But only Mallya knows (or maybe even he doesn’t) what will come next.

The deal, and people’s reaction to it, brings to light the ebb and flow of the wheel of fort­u­ne. Nuggets of wisdom like ‘No­thing lasts forever’, ‘What goes up has to come down’, ‘Cha­­nge is the only permanent thing in the world’ found new meaning in this context. Karma, apparently had caught up with Mallya. Even the masses that didn’t personally know Mallya felt this to be correct. It somehow rang true with the stereotype that all businessmen use crooked ways to become suc­cessful; that they put profit above all else and ruthlessly march ahead to amass wealth. So when the hardworking middle classes see them in trouble, they tend to take the righteous position of: “It serves them right”.

Mallya was being judged for his action. It was seen as a giving up of sorts. It was seen as nature’s way of ensuring balance. It was seen as the stripping of some of his flamboyance. But we’ll never know what’s on Mallya’s mind. A recent tweet suggested that he’s as vulnerable as any of us; as human as any of us. Except, he deals in billions and we, in hundreds and thousands. The tweet read: “Thanks to the Almighty that Forbes has removed me from the so called Billionaires list. Less jealousy, less frenzy and wrongful attacks.” Almost the same middle class troubles plague him; the intensity may be even more in his case.

We may envy someone his flashy car or his billion-dollar house. But like all things — good and bad — that have to come to an end, all this will change, too. This is not to say that Mallya’s not on top of his game. Just the fact that he’s keeping his plans secret goes to suggest that there’s something up his sleeve. He may as well spring a surprise on us like only a good businessman like him can. After all, the wheel of fortune has to keep turning.

Being away from the hustle and bustle of city life does not necessarily guarantee peace of mind. Also, sitting in a boardroom may not always mean high stress. My friends and I got away for the long weekend to a hill station nearby. The aim was to relax, put the phone away and enjoy the company of the hills. We tried, not quite successfully.

For starters, we wouldn’t have reached the place without using GPS on our phones. It was surprising that about 10 km deep into the forest, we still managed to catch the mobile signal. Once we reached the home stay, we ended up spending the first half hour finding the spots where the phone signal comes on. We were physically in the (to use a cliche) lap of nature, but our days revolved around the phone, watching movies on the laptop and long car drives. Technology was never too far away in the four days we spent there. Though the eye could take in the green beauty of the verdant valley, the mind never stopped thinking of the to-do list marked on the phone and the packed calendar for the coming busy week.

The human mind is powerful. It is through the mind that we perceive, feel, understand, contemplate, learn and grow. With the numerous distractions around us, it has become increasingly difficult to still the mind and live in the moment. We are constantly living in another time – the future or the past. Technology has enabled us to bring the future and the past into the present. Not just time, we’re also increasingly uncomfortable with slow pace.

We met a localite during our weekend trip. Now, this coffee estate owner had given up a coding job in a multinational company in the city to return to his home town to manage his estate. Over lunch at the local club, we talked about his plans. His typical day started at 11 am with a visit to the coffee plantation, a long lunch, another visit to the farm and then evening entertainment at the club. His day ended at 2 am.

It bothered my friends that this perfectly intelligent, smart, young and able man had given up a fast-paced lifestyle in the city to work in this remote part of the country, where his only entertainment was a game of cards in the club with the same people every evening; and his source of intellectual stimulation would be a retired farmer who would narrate tales of his visit to the US a decade ago.

My friends repeatedly asked him: “So what do you do?” This question had multiple layers to it. It’s not just the physical ‘what do you do to earn a living’ or the more immediate ‘what do you do to fill your time in this boring town’ that bothered them. It had also to do with the larger question of being comfortable with the decision he had made to lead such a lifestyle.

Indeed, to be able to still the mind and control it to go at a slower pace after having experienced the fast pace and its promise of instant gratification in the form of business, money and intellectual stimulation is challenging for most yuppies in modern India, especially those fed on smartphones and broadband internet. The mind can be a friend or foe depending on how we train it. This young man from the hills looked like he had trained it well.

This uncle was the extremely social sort. He managed to crack jokes in the few minutes that we met at family gatherings. He always enquired after us but also knew when to back off in a world where family ties are increasingly drifting apart. He wasn’t particularly my favourite uncle. In fact, I have no favourites. I endure most family occasions with stoic bullheadedness – like it were another bad day to get through. But there seemed to be something about this particular uncle. After he passed on, he started appearing in my dreams.

The dreams didn’t have anything to do with him. Yet, he would be starring in a side role in a way I could vividly remember his presence. I once dreamt that I was back in London. My parents visited me there and we were walking around Central London. And there was this uncle tagging along with us. Another time I dreamt that he was sitting on the couch in my living room enjoying a cup of tea.

Over the past year, these dreams only increased and I couldn’t figure out why or what incident had caused this connection. Last month, my mother told me that the uncle’s first death anniversary puja was being organised. Busy at work, I dismissed it as just another family function I could easily give a miss citing work engagements. But then, I sat to think about it that evening and wondered if it might help to attend this puja. Maybe if I sent my prayers during this puja, where we supposedly make a connection with our Other Worldly ancestors, we find peace here in this mortal world. I decided to give it a shot.

I attended one ceremony among the varied rituals and observances organised over three days. It was supposedly the most sacred ritual, in which the connection is made to those who have passed on. I didn’t know what to pray for. So I simply prostrated and sent a silent prayer for peace. I don’t know if my weird dreams will stop. But I do know that I felt calmer and more restful after that ritual. I didn’t feel agitated with the presence of so many relatives around me. I ate lunch in quiet contemplation and even offered to drive a few relatives back home. It’s too early to say if this ritual worked. I haven’t dreamt of this uncle since that day. Maybe it was a ritual for me to overcome my restlessness and not so much for him (wherever he is) to know that we’re thinking of him. Our connection to the Other World reminds us of our mortality and helps us deal with death.

Halloween also serves the same purpose. It’s a bridge between the material and spiritual planes. It’s an opportunity to acknowledge the paranormal world and know that we’re perhaps not alone. The departed may be using our dreams, thoughts and memories to let us know they’re thinking of us. In fact, it wouldn’t baffle me or bother me so much if my uncle continued to appear in my dreams.

This year’s Durga puja pandals were clichéd and a replica of the previous year’s puja and the one before that. Though a South Indian, I make it a point to visit at least one Durga pandal every year. My Bengali friends dangled the idea of good food, festivities and cultural programmes to get me, a claustrophobic, a few years ago to visit a pandal. I got hooked and drop by at a pandal every year, with or without Bengali friends.

It’s the same story every year. Outside the pandal venue, there are huge traffic jams, quarrels over parking space, stressed out policemen whistling madly at no one in particular, and long queues of well-dressed visitors hopping over mini pools of slush on the badly maintained grounds. Yet, year after year, the crowds swell with the repeat of this tradition.

Tradition, rites, rituals and dharma apart, there was something else that made scores and scores of believers gather to add value to their community gathering – an emotional connection. Goddess Durga is believed to make Her annual four-day sojourn to earth. The Bengalis – and, more recently, anyone who partakes in this Ma Durga tradition – has a strong and deep emotional connection to this event, which they may or may not be able to articulate. Many express this connection by being present for the puja. They beehive in large numbers, share, belong, participate and network among their own. All this, with the Goddess with fiery eyes looking down benevolently at her devotees. The Goddess presides over these gatherings and gives the communities a reason to share, a reason to be there and a reason to connect with their roots.

In a hyper-connected world, isn’t it strange then that an other-worldy being gives us the grounds to commune? Those at the pandal used their cellphones, smart and not-so-smart, to take photos, find friends and record videos. At any given point, a sea of phones was up in the air pointed at the Goddess. It was as though the phone were a social crutch, a device that prevented people from falling with a thud while trying to reach the other dimension. Having a phone to look at, play with and fiddle with perhaps made them less squeamish about the process of connecting with their tradition. I hardly saw anyone without a phone even when the impressive Chhau performance, the tribal martial art dance, was on.

With culture becoming increasingly homogenized (and Westernised), these are occasions to celebrate our distinctness. We should be celebrating variety – in culture, dress, food, art and religion. I witnessed that tug of war between tradition and modernity at the pandal this year. The struggle to stay raw in the face of rapid modernization and change was visible in every young woman who had draped a lovely Bengali cotton saree (however awkwardly) and in every family that spoke only Bangla. I also saw love in its purest form – young couples, some dreamy-eyed, some in the magical flush of new love, making memories at the celebration.

Like they say, the more things change the more they remain the same. I will brave the traffic jams and the crowds every year to watch this ray of hope for tradition. And, of course, the food should be good, too.