The best we can be

“How do you find the answer so fast”, asked my son in wonder when I mentally calculated the long division he had been struggling with for the last several minutes.

“Practice. Nothing but practice”, I replied.

“But you still did it so fast”, he said. “Did you know the answer from before.”

“No, I calculated it right now.”

“But how could you do it so fas?”, he asked. “Are you the best in the world?”

“No, Sweetheart, I am not.  But I do try to be the best that I can be.”

Isn’t that what we should strive for, always?

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Flashback 2011 - December 

I would probably call this the "Best" Sunrise I witnessed during the year, but there have been other memorable sunrises too. In fact, truth be told, Every Sunrise IS the Best, in its own unique way. Taken in December during our holiday in Goa, this photograph forms a part of my Pictoral Flashback of 2011.

Shades of grey

When we think back on the year, we remember supreme successes and frustrating failures. We remember events that made us giggle, and things that made us cry. We remember the people who went out of their way to be nice to us, and the ones who were nasty.

But is that what the year was? Ups and downs? Crests and Troughs? Wasn’t most of the year, just normal? One day merging into another. Chores performed, hugs exchanged, deadlines met. Survival from day to day.

Why do we focus always on the black and white. Isn’t life mostly shades of grey?
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Flashback 2011- November

This monochromatic photograph was taken in November when I was visiting my mother. Crappy camera phone, no editing, yet, it was my unanimous choice for the month of November, when I was working on my Pictoral Flashback of 2011.

Are Festivals worth it?

There was a time when I used to celebrate all the major festivals at home. Not necessarily because I believe in the rituals, but because I thought it was good for the kids to have a strong cultural foundation, so they could take their own decisions later on life. I would drive myself crazy putting up appropriate floral decorations, making sweets, dressing the kids in traditional wear.

Till I realized nobody really enjoyed it.

I’ve now decided not to celebrate any more festivals at home. At least I no longer wear myself out, and them scream because I am tired.
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Flashback 2011- October

The photograph was taken on Diwali, the Festival of Lights- maybe the last time I celebrate any festival at home. The picture, taken in October, forms a part of my Pictoral Flashback of 2011.

A livelihood at home

Over 20 million people squeezed into a tiny city. Extended families living in houses smaller than a garage- every inch of floor space covered with sleeping bodies at night. No running water, nor dedicated sanitary blocks. A road network so inadequate it takes hours to commute 20 miles to work. The most overloaded public transportation system in the world- it is a miracle how so many people squeeze into so little space. And yet, people keep migrating to Bombay.

Will a time ever come when people from rural India aren’t forced to migrate to cities to earn enough to survive?

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The Bandra-Worli Sealink is an architectural delight. But the toll is so high, and the approach so crowded, few people even think of taking it. Couldn't the money have been used better? This picture forms a part of my Pictoral Flashback of 2011.

You can't do both

“But it’s raining”, is the excuse we hear constantly during the monsoons. Everything is put on hold because you presumably can’t step outdoors in the rain.

And yet, few things beat the pleasure of running in the rain. Raindrops falling on your head. Feet splashing through puddles. Newly washed leaves on trees. Wildflowers that bloom only for weeks. The smell of fresh earth. The cool air hitting your face, caressing your bare arms. Bliss.

This year, I’ve learnt. You can either make excuses, or you can do what you want to do. You can’t do both. The choice is yours.

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Flashback 2011- August 

The photograph was taken in August at a colonial bungalow where we stayed during an outstation run, and forms a part of my Pictoral Flashback of 2011.

What a child wants

“Don’t tell anyone, but you know what happened today…”. Every night, thus start my son’s everlasting tales.

But a year back, it wasn’t so. A year back, he was withdrawn, defensive and unhappy. His grades were poor, he was clearly not happy in school and I had no way of reaching out to him. All I could do was wonder what went wrong….. till that day when the dam broke, and he articulated his fears.

My son’s far from perfect, but he’s friendly, happy and confident.

Sometimes, all a child needs is for his mother to be there for him.

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Flashback 2011- July

A rolling stone gathers no moss. Moss, to me, is symbolic of parents who are there for their kids. Of parents who give their all for their children. Of my parents. And of the parent I wish I could be. This photograph, taken in July, forms a part of my Pictoral Flashback of 2011.

Courage is....

The eye-surgeon with a flourishing practice, who returned to his village and set up an eye-hospital for the poor. The retired bureaucrat who runs a school exclusively for boys from a community that has been shunned for generations. The articulate woman who’s dedicated her life to rescuing and rehabilitating victims of the sex trade.

They could have led comfortable lives, but chose to do something meaningful. They may not flaunt the material trappings of success, but they are the richest people I know.

Gandhi said it best. “Seek not greater wealth, but simpler pleasure; not higher fortune, but deeper felicity.”_____

Flashback 2011- June 

When it rains, the dry bed turns into a gurgling stream. In the dry months, it could be mistaken for a trail. Water comes and goes, but the rocks stay on forever. This photograph, taken during a trek in June forms a part of my Pictoral Flashback of 2011.

Not the real India

The treasured only child of her parents. Someone who was encouraged to soar as high as her wings could take her. A person who held her own even in a not entirely equitable world. All these years, I genuinely believed that India allowed a woman to attain her potential.

The country I grew up in is not the real India.

In India, girls are killed before they are born; they are allowed to starve through neglect; they sold into sexual slavery; they are denied a voice at home; they are invisible in the community.

How long can such extremes co-exist?

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I visited rural Maharashtra in May. Saw women struggling to assert themselves, to claim their position in society. Change has to come- but how long will it take? This photograph forms a part of my Pictoral Flashback of 2011.

Giving it my best shot

Three summers ago, I had the crazy dream of registering for a marathon. Fate took over, and I landed up at the start-line untrained and unsure. I couldn’t do it, walked the distance, and swore never to attempt it again.

But unfinished business rankles. I decided to try one more time. I have trained many months for it. I am as ready as I’ll ever be.

Whether I achieve my dream or not, I would have given it my best shot. I am satisfied.

“Courage is not absence of fear, but the judgment that something is more important than fear.” 

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Flashback 2011- April

A former treadmill junkie, I had to start running on the road if I wanted to pile up the kind of mileages that I needed to attempt a marathon. Luckily, I found a place I fell in love with, and this photograph, taken during my first ever training run in April forms a part of my Pictoral Flashback of 2011.

I had savoured the beauty

“DOOONNNN’TTttttt….”, the word was still in my mouth, when it happened. My son’s hand swung out, knocking the stem off my plumeria plant. A moment earlier, I had been gazing proudly at 17 buds poised to spread their perfume and beauty outside my bedroom window. Now all there was to see was the stump of a stem, bleeding milky white discharge.

These would have been my first flowers in four years. I would have seen their perfection first thing in the morning on waking up. I wept.

And then I stopped weeping. In my mind, I had savoured the beauty.
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Flashback 2011- March

These flowers bloomed on the same plant, but not as easily visible as the other ones would have been. Would I have even seen them had the other lot not been tragically lost? This photograph taken in March forms a part of my Pictoral Flashback of 2011.

Turning Forty

If I meet my 30 year old self, what would I tell her?

Would I tell her that 2 children and 10 years later, she will be fitter, stronger and slimmer than she dreams possible? Would I tell her that every difficult choice she makes will only lead her to yet another one, but that the journey will be well worth it? Would I tell her that she’ll not recognise who she will eventually become?

I would tell her all that. And one more thing I would tell her- to cherish who she is, because she is worth being cherished.

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 Flashback 2011- February

The photograph, taken on Valentine's Day never fails to remind me that while diamonds may add to a girl's charms, nothing makes a woman as beautiful as experience. This photograph forms a part of my Pictoral Flashback of 2011.

If I had the year over....

If I had the year over, would I have done things differently? Would I have put my foot down earlier and more firmly? Suffered fools a lot less? Would I have spent less time with that person who proved a false friend, and been more sympathetic to the one who genuinely needed me? 

Would I have abstained from ordering that takeaway that gave all of us an upset stomach?

With the benefit of hindsight, one can always do things better. But I wouldn’t really want to change too much; I am happy with the way things turned out this year. 

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Flashback 2011- January

On a cold winter morning in one of the most inaccessible parts of rural India, I watched the sun go down behind a temple. As the colours faded into black and white, for a moment, I could see my entire life in stunning clarity. This photograph taken in January forms a part of my Pictoral Flashback of 2011.