The world in a hurry!!

 I read somewhere in the news that there has been a sharp increase in mental health issues ever since COVID broke out. Of course, this is now the new normal, I guess.

I want to understand why mental health issues seemed negligible in our previous generation. What made them more suited to adapt to situations, and what involuntarily goes wrong with us, Gen Z, and so forth?

Is it overexposure to data, which makes it a tough challenge for the human mind not to compare itself with others? Or is it because people are becoming more money-minded in comparison to our previous generation? Is it because of FOMO or YOLO? Everyone seems to be in a hurry to achieve, to gain experience of everything. Patience and tolerance are reducing over time. And it's not just my generation, but I see a sharp decrease in our previous generation's ability to harbor patience in old age, too. They sometimes seem to be comparing themselves with us.

Change is the only constant, yet accepting change is the major problem. Everything from infrastructure to the environment is rapidly changing. Things are turning very different in just a span of five years. This rapid growth is also the cause behind our inability to accept the change. Five years seems too soon for the human mind to adjust to all these changes.

When you go back to scriptures, they talk about a time that was slowly changing, but now the situation is very, very different. The safety net people had back then in the form of mental support is no longer available in today's world. Who really bothers about you? You seem to be fighting all alone always. Although you might be surrounded by many, there are very few who really understand you and are willing to make an effort to be available to just talk to you when you need them.

I read somewhere that it just takes eight minutes to console anyone in need. When someone is anxious, just listening to them for eight minutes can make a lot of difference. Yet, no one seems to have those eight minutes. Maybe that's why we now live in modern societies with lots of amenities, yet we suffer alone.

खालीपन!!

 

क्यों मुझको इतना खाली रखा है तुमने?

जब मेरे अरमानों का कुछ होता ही नहीं,

तो इस खालीपन को मैं कैसे गुज़ारूँ?

हर साँस, हर पल, ये कैसा सन्नाटा है?

जीवन की बगिया में, बस सूखा ही छाटा है।

जब भी दिल से कुछ चाहा मैंने,

तुमने वो छीन लिया, कह कर कि वो मेरा नहीं।

क्या मेरा वजूद, बस एक झूठा सपना है?

क्यों हर खुशी पर लगा है तेरा पहरा?

बस इस ज़िंदगी से मुझको इतनी भी चाहत नहीं,

कि तुम इसे मुझसे छीन लो।

मिट्टी का पुतली हूँ, मिट्टी में मिल जाऊँगी,

क्या फ़र्क पड़ेगा, गर आज ही गुज़र जाऊँगी।

Unsealing the past: A letter to my future self!!

Today, while sifting through my wardrobe, I stumbled upon a forgotten letter – addressed to my future self, with strict instructions to "Open only in 2029." Of course, my curiosity got the better of me. Perhaps it was an after-effect of watching "P.S. I Love You" one too many times, but I couldn't resist.

What I found surprised me. It was a blueprint of my ambitions, penned just before I decided to leave my job. It’s peculiar, how my life often takes a complete U-turn precisely when I become too serious or ambitious about something. Things rarely unfold as I meticulously plan. This letter laid out exactly where I envisioned myself by 2029 – professionally, personally, spiritually, and in every other sphere.

Reading it, a wave of irony washed over me. I couldn't help but feel like writing back to my past self, saying, "That's a bit ambitious, isn't it?" Especially since I quit the very job that was supposed to be the launchpad for these dreams. 

What good will come of this detour, I don't know. But I've learned to practice the art of letting go, even of things I deeply desire. Maybe the universe is nudging me to master detachment in this lifetime, even while keeping me firmly rooted within a family, surrounded by all kinds of attachments.

Later in the day, we found ourselves in Hitech City. It's an area I know well, having witnessed its incredible growth firsthand.

I first arrived in Hyderabad with my family around 2000 or 2001. Back then, Cyber Towers, inaugurated in 1999, felt like it was on the city's outskirts. Hyderabad and Secunderabad truly felt like two distinct cities, with far fewer flyovers connecting them.

My next visit was in 2009, this time to join an organization housed in Cyber Towers. I remember that train journey from Bangalore – alone, with three ridiculously large trolley bags. My friend, who was supposed to pick me up, wasn't answering her phone right before I boarded. I was a nervous wreck, imagining myself stranded. Thankfully, she called back at 11:30 PM, having forgotten her phone at office. Can you even imagine someone forgetting their mobile phone nowadays?! When I finally landed early morning, taking an auto to Madhapur where she lived, I was struck by the sheer number of new flyovers from Secunderabad to Madhapur.

Working in Cyber Towers, I remember thinking how it looked so imposing in pictures, yet seemed less grand in person. There were only a handful of IT parks back then, easily countable on one's fingers. Inorbit Mall opened in 2010, and slowly but surely, the space between Cyber Towers and Inorbit began to fill in. The arrival of IKEA seemed to ignite an even more rapid development. It's hard to believe that this entire area, now teeming with towering IT parks that make it feel almost un-Indian, was once just a landscape of boulders.

And yet, despite this rapid growth, I had to quit my job.

Today, I truly missed it. I found myself wishing I could still walk from Cyber Pearl to Inorbit, just like I used to when work got a little too monotonous. Those days are gone.

And it feels like many of my dreams have gone with them. I only wish my life had experienced a steep upward trajectory, mirroring Hyderabad's infrastructure boom, instead of the steep downward curve I've felt.

यह नज़र भी उसी को ढूँढती है!!

 यह नज़र भी उसी को ढूँढती है,

जो कभी उसका था ही नहीं।

दिल की गहराई से निकली चाहत,

जिसकी कोई मंज़िल ही नहीं।

तन्हा रातों का वो मुसाफ़िर,

जिसकी कोई हमदम ही नहीं।

ख्वाबों में भी जिसकी परछाई,

हकीकत में जिसकी आहट ही नहीं।

यह नज़र भी उसी को ढूँढती है,

जो कभी उसका था ही नहीं।

Beyond the fairy tale: Family dynamics!!

Following up on my earlier post today, I want to share something deeply personal that has weighed on me. My upbringing was quite unusual for its time. I grew up in a nuclear family, a rarity in an era when large families were the norm. My grandfather was an only child, and I never heard of him having any siblings who might have died at birth, which was a common tragedy back then. An only child was quite the opposite to families with more than six to eight kids. 

My father’s family also faced its share of loss. He had two elder siblings; one passed away shortly after birth, and another at the age of eight from an illness. This left my father and his sister as the only surviving children. Tragically, my grandmother died while giving birth to her fifth child. What was truly uncommon was that my grandfather chose not to remarry, despite being young enough to do so in a society where it was expected.

After my aunt got married, our household naturally became a nuclear family. To add to this, my grandfather passed away the year before I was born. This meant my mother never experienced living with in-laws, nor did she ever have to navigate the complexities of a relationship with a mother-in-law.

When I got married, my understanding of handling in-laws was purely fictional. I had no practical experience, having never witnessed such dynamics at home. It was just what I heard from others, never saw it happen before my eyes. I was genuinely eager to learn how people managed large families, picturing them as vibrant hubs of activity and fun, with endless family functions. And yes, many functions do happen, which is wonderful! But what I hadn't anticipated was the undercurrent of "kitchen politics."

With no interaction with my husband before our wedding, I struggled immensely in the beginning to understand the unspoken rules and navigate who to say what to. Perhaps my innocent demeanor or my ignorance of this family led people to believe I can be easily manipulated, because my expectations of a large, joyful family quickly clashed with the harsh reality I faced. I found myself with a number of mothers-in-law, all seemingly ready to critique everything from my posture to my clothing to every word I uttered or even when I didn't speak at all. 

I have to admit, I now despise the "kitchen politics" so much that I've retreated, choosing to say nothing to anyone. It feels as though I've stagnated in building new relationships within my married life; my closest connections remain the same people I had before marriage.

A growing sense of isolation and loneliness consumes me daily. As a woman, there's an unspoken expectation that my primary attachments should shift from my birth family to my in-laws. But how can I achieve this alone when I'm consistently made to feel like an outsider, even after years of being a part of this family? Can I truly make everyone my own if they're unwilling to embrace me as one of them?

It's easy to hear advice like, "learn to leave the baggage behind if it's burdening you." But the truth is, I often wonder, how much, and what exactly, am I supposed to leave behind? Am I simply a solo traveler on this journey of life? Was it a fault to accept challenges head-on instead of trying to run away? Was it a mistake to hold onto positivity, even when a part of me knew things might not be as ideal as I hoped?

Life often feels like an endless series of problems to solve. Yet, it's those meaningful relationships that are supposed to provide moral support, offer new ideas, and inspire us to explore our abilities. Sadly, in my current situation, this feels unfulfilled. I've come a long way from being positive and believing that divine help would guide my every step, to now feeling quite the opposite. I've reached a point where I've had to accept that many of my dreams may simply remain out of reach.

I've found myself replacing my own aspirations with what was offered to me, even when it didn't truly resonate. Perhaps the first time I did this set a precedent, leading to a recurring pattern. I feel like a fool for understanding this cycle, yet feeling utterly powerless to change it.