JUDGE ME NOT!!!!!

I feel that one thing I have always despised is judging anyone. But over time I also realised that even though I thought I was not probably judging most but shelfing a few who were not my types. I was only pronouncing that our temperaments and inclinations were a little different; I hate to admit that it was in fact my JUDGEMENT.

I don’t like apple products, cars like Audi for the simple reason that I have never appreciated flamboyant spending without any functionality. So, there I was, conveniently remarking that each person holding that apple icon and driving a grandiose car was pretentious.

I would also take pride in explaining that to my kids as to why I made that choice. In trying to instill real values, did I teach them to judge others wrong and judge me right?  Now that is a guilty question which I am afraid to or I should say I don’t even want to address.

To make my children responsible individuals, I preach them moral values like honesty, loyalty, respect, self- reliance, discipline, patience, gratitude, forgiveness and courtesy. But while I do so, I take the liberty to correct them and also sometimes end up judging them. There is a very fine line between a comment and a statement. And I don’t even know when that line stands crossed. Am I supposed to parent them ( which by the way entails judging the kids all the time) or am I supposed to let them be? I have no clue.

Interestingly, I did not consider analysing is the same thing as judging; not until recently when I realised in the game of, I judge this-I don’t judge this, I had started pigeonholing myself too. I had started putting myself in such high standards of touchstone - to not be allowed to be wrong, not be allowed to make mistakes, to be not allowed to fall weak. And there I was - trapped in my own judgement. How could I be wrong when I am so meticulous in making choices with reason? How could I be forgetful when I am planning every little detail? How can I be so okay with such average results? And lots more!!!!  Phew! I was sooooooooooo tired.

I needed a breather. I needed to understand that there is no right or wrong honestly. And this simple lesson came from my own daughter. Even though whenever she tries to challenge what I stand for, its never kind of  easy but Last week it was a little different. The other day, when I stopped her from wearing a yellow dress which to my understanding was just not suiting her, she pointed out that she wants to wear it because she is just loving the feel of it. I will not deny that I wanted to exercise my supremacy over her choice but I held myself back and decided not to let her feel judged- not by me at least.

Honestly, there is no judgement needed; no barometer required. Neither for those who spend extravagantly over a phone nor over me who was being so self-righteous taking pride in not using the same. Its just a matter of personal choice. Having an opinion is important but only to the extent that you want to make choices for yourself not to button down others into a statement.

Its okay if one gets happiness by wearing whatever they like, by leading their lives in whatever manner, by setting their own benchmarks. Often people who are meticulously giving so much of thought to each and every little breath they take, end up judging themselves the most and drain themselves.

We should try to live each day so fully, so alive that we are so pleased and content with every minute that went. We are hard on each other because we are using each other as a launching pad out of our own perceived deificiency. So, lesson well learnt -

"Never waste time explaining yourself to others who are bound to misunderstand you and stop typecasting the ones who are not like you."

 Wow it feels good to have said that and even better to feel inspired to practice that.

All one should judge is how happy they are and how happy they can get!!!

GLENORCHY HIGH

Glenorchy high

  It had only been hour before
She wished something more majestic to explore.
Not knowing what awaits her day
She was bracing to fly away.
Amidst the mountains so high and tall
But no fears, no apprehensions, no jitters at all.
Romancing with nature it seemed
Holding fast to her dreams.
Love for this vastness so intrigue
Feeling alive, calm and complete.
A mind at peace with all below
She put her foot on the snow.
Facing atop its sunlit summit
Feeling something in her spirit.
Strength of its zenith and air so thin
She will always carry within.
Comfort in the quiet lingers on
Fragrance of its beauty settles on.
She wore the strongest posture now
Knowing she can walk in the clouds.
Halfway to the very sky
Never had she been this high!!!!

THE PERSONALISED TOUCH!!!

I have seen lot of people recently asking me about my whereabouts. And I wonder in amazement …..Have I stopped socialising or meeting people? Or is it that I have stopped being chatty? or Do I forget to greet people when I see them? What has changed? And Then I hear them reveal the ethical duty that I have missed to perform assiduously – “I have not been so active on the What’s App group and no Instagram yet and blah blah blah.”

This may sound a bit discourteous but frankly I do see see myself saying “ Ah! A sigh of relief.  It’s not my physical presence or actions that are missing. It’s actually my virtual presence on the social media group that is being talked about.”

Honestly, no matter how much I despise being very diligent on What’s App, I can’t deny that it has made life simpler, people more accessible and communication faster. I know I am in touch with more folks because I have What’s App. It’s so much more effortless to organise my daughter’s birthday party as there is this facility of What’s App groups.

My only concern here is that are we really socialising here? What happened to those personalised invitations?  To the birthday wishes that were given in person or to those calls that you made to thank someone. I see more images of those feelings on my phone than actually sensing the sentiment individually.

Have we not started doing some formalities more than ever only because it’s so easy to write a thank you on What’s App and haven’t we started shrinking from genuine efforts only because a sorry on What’s App is less difficult?

Are we not missing out on something? Sharing on What’s App sounds cool to me but caring? Really? Is that going to replace our way of bonding and demonstration of our feelings ?

A message embellished with emoticons, with smileys, with LOL is considered PERSONALISED. Texting has replaced letters; visuals have replaced reading and the Emojis have replaced expressions.  It doesn’t surpise me when my children prefer to learn on YouTube than reading a book.

I am still the old intellectual tradition. I still feel that I remember things more when I touch them, read them and feel them. I still haven’t progressed to a Kindle. I must admit I still like to pick up a thick book to read no matter how inconvenient it may sound to a few. I still have  a birthday card given to me by my parents and I can tell you it is so precious to me that I keep checking on it. And opening and closing it again and again gives me such satisfaction which I can’t really put in words.

I have my college scrapbooks and hard copies of the photographs organised in albums. I love posting pictures on Facebook but I still make an effort to take prints of them. Flipping the album is a very different feeling.  Happiness found again.

The other day I was asked by my sister as to why I hardly wished our relatives on the family group?   “ It sounds a bit rude, you know.”She mentioned.  Candidly, I thought to myself and realised that I am happy to be a part of this group on which I actively participate but only for those things for which I don’t feel the need to call one on one. I still try to make time to personally give a ring if I can. That sounds real. When I meet them after months I have memories of my last call and not my last text. And I truly like that.

One interesting observation that I always love to make when I post a picture on facebook.  It’s amusing. I get at least 100 likes if it’s a photograph but when I post something otherwise I hardly manage a few. (Gosh! I just found myself looking for a sad emoji and realised this is not FB or Whats app…Hahahaha!)

Interestingly, I just googled “personalised calls vis-a-vis What’s App” and it doesn’t surprise me what Google found out  for me” 7 whats app settings to personalise” That’s the most ironic thing I have read and indeed most hilarious.

Anyways my point is that even though we are progressing to a visually driven world in this Tech savvy era, these punctuated and decorated messages can never replace a face to face conversation, our moods, our emotions in our voice. Let us use this technology for less important things because as human beings we can use our own emotions to express more intelligently than computerised icons.

Let’s build relationships even though fewer and not chat histories.

THE LESSON IN FALLING

Are we all not so proud of our kids? Haven’t we found ourselves elated at their eloquent manners, lucid expressions, “A” grades, prize winnings and the star credits they have got at their dazzling performances? Even though they are still so young; No matter how many they get, one more would still make us histrionic. Truly, have we never caught ourselves eyeing them to be the next one to be recognized at whatever possible opportunity? I will not lie. I have. Even though I have never expressed that to my kids but silently yes whenever they are, I feel brilliant.

And why shouldn’t we? It is a great thing to achieve, to perform, to step out and learn. It means more exposure, more confidence, more fun and more medals on the superior parenting tag too.

But are we forgetting something. In trying to help them reach for the stars, are we forgetting to tell them about falling before rising. In our process to making them the best, are we forgetting to bring out the best in them? In trying to teach them to outclass are we forgetting to build compassion in them for the less competent in class?

We only taught them how to achieve wherein all of us know the fact. One life doesn’t come with only good bunches of happiness; second, how uplifting and crucial it is to fail. We all know we have faced more struggles than success. Success is just an end result to all the bottlenecks that we crossed and to all the collapses that we decided not to give up on and to all the let downs which we refused to be content with. It is the courage to continue that counts.

I remember when Ananya won the third prize in an Inter school painting competition two years back, I was totally elated. That is the first time I realised what it feels to be a parent when your child is recognized. I have been a frontrunner all through my life but suddenly this one seemed like the best one ever. So as thrilled as I was, I asked my darling as to what it was to go up on the stage and bagging the winning trophy. And what I heard from her was very humbling.

“I liked going on the stage”, she said “But I think i truly loved making the painting”. All that she talked about was her first bus ride to the venue where the competition was held and how bad she felt for her friend who was crying for no reward. Isn’t that so uncomplicated? So here I was meekly reminding myself to not ever transform the reason of her delight from “ The Painting” to the “The Prize”; from “The Journey” to “The Goal”.

I often remember reading such quotes but got a glimpse of the truth in her words. Earlier, I used to share my achievements with her a lot time and again. But from that day onwards, I started sharing my failures, more of my fiascos and experiences of my foolishness too. I must say, besides the fact that she was learning to know that it was absolutely fine to have slip-ups in life; she was really having a good time laughing and chuckiling at all the mistakes that her so called perfect mom made.

I remind her often now that she must say yes to the idea of adventures that she will be facing in life and that it’s okay to cry and make mistakes. And I hope I taught her the most important credo in life – the Lesson in Falling.

In the words of Thomas A. Edison,” I have not failed. I have just found ten thousand ways that won’t work”. 

THE ROAD TRIP- ALL YOU NEED IS GOOD FRIENDS AND A FULL TANK

Even though I have been to Europe before but I feel Europe is made for a classic car journey. It was quite an experience travelling six countries in 17 odd days- number of languages, Several alphabets, Architecture both old and new, Few border checks, a great network of international highways and infrastructure and perhaps the richest amount of preserved history anywhere on Earth. Road trips can turn a rational being into an unstoppable travelling maniac.

When we planned this trip in March on a Sunday afternoon, little did I know about Lake Bohinj and Lake Bled in Slovenia. It’s a large lake situated amidst the Julian alps in Triglav National Park. Until I visited these mesmerizing blue green waters, I always conveniently escaped noticing ‘SLOVENIA’ when scanning the map of Europe. A cute little chalet next to the lake amidst the mountains enclosed by forests added to the enthusiasm on day one. I read this somewhere that “Agatha Christie used to come here. But she never set any of her works here. She said it was too beautiful a place to set any murders.”

Anyways after a lovely start to the trip, we headed towards Croatia(country of 1000 islands, they say) passing through the capital Zagreb, situated along the Sava river and eventually to the coastal town of Split. It’s easy to be impressed by the town as you approach it - From highway to high waves. Famous of course for its night life and lively streets, the city respires with the party spirit wherever you go especially midnight. KRKA National Park  and its magnificient water falls are a delight. Best of all you can swim in these fresh waters.

If we talk of what I found most striking- the drive along E65, a Mediterranean fantasy with balmy days with terracotta-roofed ancient houses carpeting the hillsides around its cosy harbour. The road almost hugs the coastline.

From Croatia we proceeded to the magnetic, romantic and the metropolitan city of Florence. My prime fascination to visit this city was to experience a striking adventure among secret passages, astonishing paintings, and lush gardens like Robert Langdon would have in the Dan Brown novel “Inferno”. One of its most iconic sites was the Florence Cathedral, with its dome engineered by Brunelleschi and bell tower designed by Giotto. Of course, I don’t remember these names very naturally. Ponte Vecchchio with its outlandish shopping street needs a special mention. It beautifully brings out the sumptuousness of the town. Even if you are not a Dan Brown fan, I assure you are bound to be spellbound by the vast world class art that the city has to offer.

Humans make mistake and no human is perfect. This is exactly why I wanted to visit the Leaning Tower of Pisa. When I reached this little eight storied white marble tower, famous maybe not for the reasons its original architects would have wanted; I saw a bunch of tourists posing for the same photo: hands outstretched towards the tilting structure, as if they are supporting it with their sheer strength. I tried too unsuccessfully though, I would admit. 

Despite the super hectic day, we frantically managed to grab hold of our overnight ferry from Genoa. And it was a welcome change to be on board after a very long drive all the way here. On the other side of the magnificient deep blue sea, awaited the mountain jewel of Mediterranean in the corner of France- Corsica- The city where Napoleon was born.

Prominent for its beaches though, but I simply fell in love with the old port of Bastia which is where our ferry landed. Bright and sunny, narrow streets and many restaurants promenading along the water-fronts with classic yachts was a charming day to remember. And not to forget the Palace and the Citadel - an adoring place to stroll around the idealistic island. I wasn’t surprised when a restaurant owner approached me and asked if I had seen the Indian movie shot in here.

From Corsica, we were all set to enter the French Riviera more fashionably called Cote De Azur.  We began with Marseille, France' s second largest city, also known to be a bridge between Africa and Europe. In a beautiful hilltop location, its Notre dame church stands on the summit of the city giving a 360 degree view of Provence, visible from afar. This basilica is inspired by Neo byzantine architecture which has a monumental statue of the Madonna and Child made of copper gilded with gold leaf.

On the way to Nice, we stopped at Cannes for an elaborate Indian lunch.  Money is what it is about. Wealthiest of people are known to have holiday homes here. Nice is the largest city on this stretch and its airport is on an area of partially reclaimed coastal land. The vivacious squares and breezy pebbled beaches sounded like the perfect holiday destination. Much tempted to sleep after a late night, I still couldn’t miss the opportunity to sit down, coffee in hand, and watch the day away as I walked along the serene coast on Promenade des Anglais. 

It was a lucky coincidence that we went to Monaco, a small sovereign state, on the day the Grand Prix races were to take place. Honestly I am not a fan but the deafening sounds of the racing cars zooming along the street is bound to intrigue you. So i definitely was glued until the competition finished. What was astonishing was that it is still ruled by a prince and although independent, it is run as a piece of France.

From cote de azur, we moved to Avignon - popularly known as city of popes; where the Pope lived for 70 years approximately. Once in Avignon, you won't want to leave, and the town is too interesting to let you go. It is an ancient city full of history that you could wander the narrow streets inside the fortified walls. The unfinished bridge spanning half of the Rhone river, Pont du Avignon is very interesting. It was built to connect Avignon with the town of Villeneuve-les-Avignon. However, due to war it remained incomplete and has remained a Unesco world heritage since then.

 A must mention is Châteauneuf de Pape, a medieval village where you have an outstanding view in all directions, mostly of vineyards, of course. This is where we took the wine tour knowing on the way how grapes are grown, fermented, stocked up in oak barrels and finally bottled in to the fancy wine bottles. Gigondas, meaning 'rejoice' is by far the prettiest village have ever been. The apartment at Avignon was very sweet but guess the appeasing vintage of the town overwhelmed me too much to have enjoyed it.

Pont du gard only 40 km from this place was the most interesting 2000 years old structure to my knowledge. This yellow limestone roman architecture masterpiece is 50 km long three-level aqueduct standing 50 m high, it allowed water to flow across the Gardon river to supply water to Nimes. Remarkable!!!!!! Isn’t it?

Next came Fontainebleau surrounded by 200 Sq km of forest. The town grew up around its magnificent château(Palace), one of the most beautifully decorated and furnished in France. Although it’s less crowded than Versailles, it was rightly called the sumptuous home of the king. I totally agree with that after having seen the latter one the next day.

 Paris, I wonder why it's called the most romantic city in the world.. I can say so too maybe but for a different reason. It was amorous to spot the gigantic structures like Arc di Triomphe, Notre dame , Pont du arts and of course the Eiffel tower in the gentle rains. Louvre definitely was the newest experience for me as I have never really been fascinated to appreciate original pieces of art ever before. I had shot listed about 15 masterpieces. For the reason that I had read a bit, I was able to comprehend slightly. Too amateur to comment but I simply loved “The wedding feast at Cana”- painted by Paolo Veronese. Large is an understatement when I looked at it, totally astounded.

Next on our itinerary was Amsterdam, while skipping Belgium being quite late on our way. Historic canals, Van gogh museum, lively cafes were eccentric to the town. I would not forget how I would panic when the trams would come just behind our car and we would wonder if we were on a wrong road. But thankfully we weren't. This city has small battery operated rickshaws, people cycling all over and two very lively squares - Dam square and Rembrandt square.

A must go is Delft blue pottery. I managed to buy the KLOMPEN, a pair of pottery Dutch shoes,a vintage Delftware traditionally meant to use for ashtrays.  And though ‘Madurodam’ at Hague, tells stories of Holland entwined with miniature buildings; it only brings some weird funny memories of the crazy time we had there.

Subsequently, we travelled to Cologne; the precious gothic cathedral is the most visited landmark in Germany and it's magnificence is jaw dropping for sure. From cologne we drove via baden baden, the much appreciated belt of black forests in Germany.  The black forests are in fact a scenic drive through the dark green hills.

On the way to these forests, we criss-crossed through the Rhone valley, running between Klobenz to Bingen.  At St. Goar, How I really wished that we had time enough to cherish this antique town. The slow paced river with a story book Germany was indeed a romantic location.

Neuschwanstein Castle, which King Ludwig II built on a rugged hill against a backdrop of picturesque mountain scenery is truly a fairy tale castle. This was a dream come true not just because it was shortlisted amongst the 21 wonders of world but because it is truly intriguing to see only an imagined Cinderella story. A bell tower just like Rapunzel would have let down her golden spun hair for the prince to climb up.  No wonder, this story is originally from Germany. This place was inevitably the best in the entire trip and I would definitely come back.

That almost brought us to the end of the trip as we crossed the scenic alps to Innsbruck, Salzburg and finally to Vienna. In Vienna we took a short cruise on the Danube river.  Flowing through six countries, the Danube meanders for nearly 1,800 miles — from Germany’s Black Forest through Austria into the Balkans before dumping into the Black Sea. The canal was conceived by Charles the great to connect the North Sea with black sea via Rhine -maine- danube channel to facilitate trading.  The most interesting part was when ship finally sailed into the lock and the back door to the lock was shut electronically, and for a period of time, it seemed as  if nothing will happen. Slowly the water was pumped out of the chamber leading the ship up and finally crossing to the other side.

And thats it!!! Like they say that all good things must come to an end. The trip finally was over and we left back for India with a mixed feeling; unforgettable moments with forever friends Shikha and Ankit on one hand; and the adrenalin rush to meet the kids and cuddle them after so long. Missed them big time.

Live your life and not record it!!!!!!

When I write about this topic, I would like to admit that I am a photography enthusiast, granted ' an amateur one' though. Still and all, I haven't clicked a selfie ever, but yes when it comes to captivating moments I can't deny I  am a pro.

It has always been pleasurable to flip over my prized possession -the carefully  organised and chronologically placed pictures every now and then. It is most amusing to watch the boisterous recordings of my kids and reliving their early  childhood. These videos suddenly seem the most priceless gift i could give them by sharing how charming they were. With each elated giggle as they watch it, I  definitely feel the effort was worth it.

Yet, on the other hand, I can't resist the feeling of condemning the people who are obsessed with clicking. I do find that act of theirs very vacuous. Last year when I was travelling, I happened to see some of the most marvellous scenic beauties and of course the most astonishing selfie lovers who captured the spectacular vistas much more than us with the best of cameras and not to forget the most handy selfie stick.

Did they really see it with their eyes too is my question? Or was it just the camera? It's sad that we are so busy posting and sharing the bestest pictures that photoplaying has become an obsession rather than a passion.

I remember my dad clicking pictures while I was young from an old time kodak camera which allowed only 36 clicks including the tainted ones. And strangely though,  I think I still have great reminiscence of those trips. And  guess what he managed to cinematize the panoramic views without knowing what pixel it is.... Though I am still very angry at him sometimes for sidelining me in the pics for want of the spectacular landscapes. Just saying :)

But the point is does this obsession make our memories more precious? Will we able to engrave the paramountcy through just a click? Will taking a shot have preponderance over really experiencing it? I am not sure and I rather not  comment .As of now I  am myself so keen on using an dslr camera.

But I really hope I always remember that cameras and videos are a way to cinematise memories and not a way to eventuating them.

So, walk, look, see, experience and then photograph it. Smile please.

WHY DO I FORGET?

Yes, really!!!!! Why do i forget? All these years, I have led my life with a strong conviction that God has a plan for me and that is all i need to know and that there are some questions that can never be answered except by Him. And yet as I get on with age, growing in this fanatical besotted world, I forget. I let myself be persecuted by these bizarre thoughts and off the hook anxieties as if I hold sway over situations. That isn’t true.

I forget that I trusted Him for every single move in my life. I forget that all I have is because He wants me to. I forget that I had faith in His faith for me. I forget that He has been really good and sometimes exceptional. I forget to show any appreciation or thank Him. I just conveniently forget.  Period.

I overlook that he helped me accomplish my childhood dream of going to the stage just once. I don’t recall that he fulfilled that dream not once but so many times. I don’t remember thanking him for making every single birthday so very very special. I fail to remember that He helped me get my dream college just like a cake walk. I don’t revisit the thought He gave me a treasured family and my beautiful daughters. I don’t remember that he gave me His strength all through.  Was it just a twist of fate? No, I know that and yet i find it decorous to forget.

Isn’t that so easy? We never forget to check our what’s app or reply to an email or go out on the weekend but yes we always forget to look back and thank God. More importantly we persistently disregard to trust what He is doing for us, despite knowing that he has been doing so always and forever so well.

It happens. We take the nice things for granted. Don’t we? Dint we take our mom’s caring for granted and our dad’s support for certain? Did we not take it easy when our sister asked us to do her homework and yet we didn’t.  Because we knew they will always be there and they will always be nice and their presence in our life is undeniable. No matter what!!!  That’s how God has been in my life. His presence has been most unswerving and incontestable.  And I have always truly taken Him established until the end of time.

But imagine what happiness we create by thanking our parents and doing our sister’s work.  The smile we bring on their faces and the delight in our heart. Guess you cotton on what I am aiming to articulate. Saying thank you is more than just good manners. It is spirituality. And when I do so to my life force, it’s a remarkable feeling. There are ‘n’ number of things that I am sure didn’t come my way in a flash. They came because they were skilfully laid out through my journey which i have travelled with effort and His no ordinary blessings.

'

 I would want to recollect this little story I had read as a child.

When I was a little boy, my mother used to embroider a great deal. I would sit at her knee and look up from the floor and ask what she was doing. She informed me that she was embroidering. I told her that it looked like a mess from where I was. As from the underside I watched her work with in the boundaries of the little round hoop that she held in her hand, I complained to her that it sure looked messy from where I sat. 

She would smile at me, look down and gently say, "My son, you go about your playing for awhile, and when I am finished with my embroidering, I will put you on my knee and let you see it from my side." I would wonder why she was using some dark threads along with the bright ones and why they seemed so jumbled from my view. A few minutes would pass and then I would hear Mother's voice say, "Come and sit on my knee." 

This I did only to be surprised and thrilled to see a beautiful flower or a sunset. I could not believe it, because from underneath it looked so messy. Then Mother would say to me, It was a design. I was only following it. 

Many times through the years I have looked up to my Heavenly Father and said, "Father, what are You doing?" He has answered, "I am embroidering your life." 

I say, "But it looks like a mess to me. It seems so jumbled. The threads seem so dark. Why can’t they all be bright?" The Father seems to tell me, "My child, you go about your business of doing and one day I will put you on My knee and you will see the beautiful design."

Yes indeed. After reading this, there is only one thing i want to say ‘Trusting God? Best decision ever.’