The Five People You Meet in Heaven

Ever since I read this book by Mitch Albom, my brain was in a tizzy. I wondered who my five people would be ? 

I thought I would do this exercise for fun, but what seemed simple turned out to be a very difficult task. You might think it is easy to identify the five people you will meet in heaven, but try it....it is an uphill task. 

I made a list of people I thought should be on my list. My list comprised of  family, friends, colleagues , enemies, and random people even. And I wrote against each name what they had done to impact my life.I set myself a simple benchmark as I tackled the list- did this person do anything that changed me as a human being , or make me take decisions that have shaped  the person I am today? 

An important bewildering lesson - I realised that the people who have influenced my life the most, are not necessarily the ones who have impacted it. 

For instance-my parents. They have shaped and moulded me - and given me the tools to go out into the world and be independent and do my own thing. But have they changed my life? No. Parents shape our lives and make us what we are - there is no point in thinking what we might have been if we had another set of parents!! Or a different set of circumstances - because these are givens. 

Likewise for Praneet - my life changed when I married him - but has he changed my life? Not necessarily. Even Linda Goodman - we all grew up reading what she had to say about sun-signs and relationships - and like all young girls I also swore by her. But there was no change in my life because of that influence!! 

Ofcourse there are small changes that happen to us because of social interaction. Friends influence us and we take on some of their characteristics . We behave differently with various groups of friends. Family members also influence behaviours and we mould ourselves to make them happy. For instance, my mom-in-law likes me in suits - so I will please her by dressing up in indian attire when I meet her . But those are not life changing events. 

The names I finally ended up with on my list shocked me initially! I had not thought of some of these people in years  - but yet, when I did the exercise, the whole experience came in sharp focus for me. And I realised that they had impacted me the most in my journey till now!

I wrote letters to each one of them - telling them how my interaction with them had been life changing for me. It connected my dots for me....

Fortunately for me, my journey has been a happy one. So when my boss, whose blue eyed girl I was, refused to take me back after my child, he set the course for change for me. I was angry and determined that I would not go back to work in a chauvinistic environment. That led to my indulgence in content , writing and education and I have not looked back since. When I screwed up an assignment and made my company lose a prestigious client, I was terribly ashamed of my laxity. That has given me huge insecurity about my work.Even today, I constantly ask my self -Is this good enough? Or can I do more? What can I add to make this worth the while? So when I take on any task today, I know I push myself till I am sure that I have done the best.

While including family members in the list sounded terribly cliched, one person has impacted my life and changed it. That has to be my first born - and I have learnt to be patient and less selfish, learnt to be politically correct and to befriend the devil and tried to become a better human being so she could look upto me! 

I also realised that all the stories are interconnected. And there are many people who touch our lives - whether we are aware of them or not. All these people bring richness to the experience and help you perform the tasks you are meant to perform on earth.

I would recommend that everyone try doing this exercise. It has huge positives. This  has been the most cathartic thing I have ever done and it helped me make meaning of my mad life. 

It set into perspective all the random experiences I have had till date and how there was meaning in all of them. It  taught me how I stupidly whine and stress about inane things, and it helped me sift the wheat from the chaff. I have learnt that there are no mistakes in life and there are no experiences that are not worth having. There should be no regret - because life was meant to be such for me!

It taught me gratitude -that my life has been one full of blessings, happiness and love. 

Ofcourse, in my list of more than a hundred people, I found only four people who have impacted me enough to change my life...I still wait for the fifth one to reveal him/herself!!

Being Indian

At the Club Mahindra property in Goa over this week, we were a noisy bunch. Like any group of 60 men, women and children will be. We asked for a separate enclosure for ourselves so we would not disturb other people at meals. And we were given a separate enclosure. None of us noticed an elderly couple sitting here, until the lady walked up to us to tell us we were ill-mannered and needed to behave. 

Later in the morning, her husband, an elegant looking gentleman, walked up to three of us to have a chat. As soon as he came over, we apologised to him for the noise we had created. Very soon, the gentleman told us what he thought of us Indians. That he had traveled the world and never seen such rowdy behaviour. We told him politely that everywhere in the world, where there are large groups there will be noise and that’s the reason we were sitting in a separate enclosure. 

Ofcourse, he promptly let us know that he knew the Family and that’s why he got an upgraded suite at the hotel, and special service from the hotel staff. And that our enclosure had been ‘his‘ special enclosure for breakfast. 

So far so good.

And then the gentleman told us that he had very less faith in Indians and in their ability to take care of themselves. That we destroyed everything. That we respected nothing. That there was no hope for Indians or the country!

This - from an Indian gentleman, whose name might mean something in the Banking circles coz he had once headed the Standard Chartered Bank. 

And the three of us he had accosted said nothing to him. I looked at him, with diminished respect.

We are Indians and respect our elders -that is the reason we entertained him in the first place. None other in the world would have heard him out. He is possibly my Dad's age so I did not want to be rude to him. The other two women with me also kept quiet for the very same reason. 

He is clearly an Indian who has made it big. That’s why he pulls favours (or is Jugadu as we would say) to get the best suite in the hotel,  gets special service and is fawned upon. Where else in the world would he have gotten such impeccable service? 

I felt no anger at him - the feeling was one of sadness. 

 At 72, when you are so resentful of the country that helped you become big, of the people in that country who gave you respect, and who indulge you still - what can I say? If, after heading up an International Bank, you feel that your Indian brethren are so incapable of handling themselves and need a white man to do it - what can I say?If you continue to milk the country dry by currying favour because your social status allows you that access, and yet are critical of all other Indians -what can I say?

I did not lead his journey, so I cannot say why he hates his country men so. But I only felt terrible that someone so senior, who many Indians must have looked up to, is so uncomfortable in his skin.And I hope my journey will not be like his....that I will continue to be a proud Indian - whether I live in India or abroad. That I will continue to have faith, that despite corruption and inspite of people who abuse power for personal gains, this country will pull through.That being Indian means being resourceful, gracious, large hearted and forgiving.

Thats the reason we all chose to keep quiet- when we were all seething with anger. 

Is There A God?

As a kid, I did what I believed in God -  I prayed to Him , recited my prayers and went to the Gurudwara. When I wanted good grades, wanted to get out of trouble or wanted things badly , I prayed vigorously . I bribed, I made offerings, I promised a zillion things. I don’t really remember if God listened to me, because I don’t recollect doing any of the things I had promised. 

I know what everyone says about keeping the faith - that when things fall apart, things go wrong - then pray, believe that God is there for you. And I have tried to keep the faith. But it does not make sense to me. I mean where is He when  you need Him? When you are in trouble? When you are sick? When you desire something intensely? 

He is not there.

And we explain his absence by saying God is doing this to make you stronger. Or that He is giving you only that much suffering as you can bear. Or that He is there - his Hand is on you. Or that there are better things in store for you and He is merely testing you.Or that you are part of His bigger plan. 

Bullshit I say. 

There is no-one except for you. You make choices - you reap their benefits or repercussions. You are the one who learns to handle the problems, to handle your pain. You are the one who seeks and finds a solution. You work towards improving your life, getting your self esteem back, learn to fight your demons. You are the one who makes peace with all that bothers you. You are the one who is eventually in-charge of your Karma. 

Then why place your faith on someone who is not there? Who, in my mind, does not exist. If there is a God, and you His child, would He not try to ease your journey ? Why would He be avengeful? And frankly why would He try and make you learn ‘lessons’? 

The only entity I need to have faith in is Me. Because only I have the strength to deal with all that I go through. When I have cried, felt pain , been helpless, I have found the strength within me to become strong again.When I felt I could not go on any longer, I have turned the corner on my sheer will power.  My journey may not have been what I wanted it to be, but I made it by myself. 

There has been no God, except in my prayers when I have been most distraught. And there was no God to give me strength when I needed it most. He was not there when I needed answers and He was not there to make me better when I could have done with TLC. So for me, God does not exist. I have given up the ritual of going to the Gurudwara to offer prayers to a non-existent thing. 

The Guru Granth Sahib makes sense to me, because it contains simple tools for living. 

But God - NO. 

For me, there is no power bigger than what is within me. So I choose to Keep the Faith in Me. 

Rude Kids

‘Maji Satak Li’, ‘Panga Mat Lena’....these hoardings greet me everywhere in Mumbai these days. They are for a new reality show (is that what these are called?) to find India’s Dramabaaz kids. 

And these hoardings anger me. As if we Indians are not rude enough, we want to now also showcase how obnoxious our kids can be.I have never quite understood how parents don’t control their kids on flights, and look on indulgently as the child talks loudly, messes around, kicks the seat in front all the time. Or when kids run around restaurants, call the stewards again and again with innumerable demands or when kids push and shove for a turn at the swings. Or when parents are amused that the kid talks like an adult with all the expressions and drama! I can’t stand kids who act too big for their boots, and their parents horrify me even more. 

And much as we are mistaking our right to expression in the democracy, I think we are missing the boat on allowing kids the freedom of expression too. The right to express yourself does not mean being rude, being precocious and unmindful of people’s feelings. It does however mean letting people know how you feel, in a manner that is age-appropriate and in a language that is civil . It means being mindful of how others might receive it. And being prepared for the repercussions if someone is offended. 

I don’t think kids can process all that at an early age. They don’t have shades of grey like adults do - for them things are pretty much in  black and white. So when we indulge their rudeness in our love, they don’t understand that the same behavior can appall someone else too - and they may become outcasts or clowns in their peer group. Over time, most children learn to modify their behavior in peer groups or with superiors but it is not a happy situation. And it  does not ever leave them - rude behavior rears its head in crisis situations. 

Rude kids make rude adults. And really parents are responsible for this - not the media, not the extended family and not the peer group. 

I allow my kids to express themselves - often I am told that I am way too indulgent with them and talk about too many things with them. But I would be appalled if they were rude to me or to anyone else. That is not part of my liberalness. 

For me polite behavior is not about saying ‘Sat Sri Akal’ or touching someone’s feet (though that is nice too). But politeness is about not deliberating hurting someone, of having the courage to apologise if something inappropriate has been said or done, and about not showing off what you possess. It is also about keeping quiet in situations that will not benefit from your input. It is being nice to people who are not as privileged as you or whose needs are greater than yours. 

Good manners are not about being fake. They determine the sense of wrong and right in all human beings. They are one’s way of making the world a better place.

So if a kid ever tells me ‘Maja Satak Li’ and the parents coo with delight  -trust me, my brain will also go for a toss, and I will pinch the kid hard when the parents are not looking. 

Cancer Etiquette

Rano’s weekly chemotherapy schedule was to change to a fortnightly one and she was quite relieved about it. 12 weeks of constant in and out of the hospital, and feeling sick all week is quite exhausting and she was looking forward to not feeling so sick. 

And I walked into her house one evening and told her about a friend who could not get out of bed for 10 days post her fortnightly chemo coz it made her so sick. Little did I know the impact it would have on my sister. She was stressed all night and inconsolable. And I got the dressing down of my life from my Mom and bro-in-law. 

I am not alone in putting my foot in my mouth (atleast in this case for sure)!

Cancer brings out the best in most people. Strangers help each other and try to make life easier for the cancer patient. They step out of line to let a cancer patient go ahead, they will pay money if the person runs short while buying medicines and will commiserate.

And one way of commiserating is to tell stories of other cancer patients. Sharing their stories becomes one way of trying to reduce a cancer patient’s fear. So when someone narrates the story of how an aunt had cancer, and only lost a breast,  or that a relative developed a lesion in another part of the body, or that a neighbour died because the cancer came suddenly , it is meant to allay the patient’s fear. It is a way of making the patient understand that they are blessed and that others have had it worse.

But it comes out all wrong. The moment a person realises they have cancer, it creates an unimaginable fear. The dreaded C is something to be combatted and the treatment is almost as bad as the disease. Ask cancer patients, and they will tell you that they have nightmares about their mortality. They worry about themselves, about their kids and their loved ones. And then to hear stories - and most of these end badly- trips them big time. 

So what do we do? Clearly we care...and want to show the patient that we are there for them. So here is what works (atleast in my experience).

• Telling someone ‘you have the good cancer’ is not funny. Cancer is cancer...and scary in any form for the patient. 
• If you don’t have the courage to visit them or are not in the same city, it is fine. But let them know you are there. Rano’s friends would call her, sms to her and put stuff on her FB or BB to let her know that they were there for her and were thinking of her.’Not knowing what to say’ is not an excuse. 
• If the patient is looking really sick, there is no need to tell her she looks fabulous. Tell her that you can see she is feeling awful and ask if can you do something for her? Maybe cook up a favorite dish or read something funny or watch a stupid movie together so the beast is forgotten for sometime. 
• Give the patient an opportunity (if he wants) to talk about how he is feeling. So when you ask ‘How are you feeling?’, be prepared for the patient to detail to you exactly that. They need to vent, they also need validation and support. 
• Most of the patients feel more depressed when they lose their hair - be gentle, not patronising. They look different, not bad or weird. And tell the patient that. And don’t wear the ‘pity’ eyes. They are fighters and survivors and need no pity. 
• Don’t get offended if the patient takes off on you or says something nasty. Their bodies are full of chemicals that play havoc with their emotions. They go through too much turmoil and therefore get angry and hysterical. They may not respond to your messages or take your calls. They need energy to get well - it is not their time to make you feel special. 
• Above all, don’t give gyaan. They don’t need it. They don’t need to be told what diets are good, what treatments work, why they are feeling sick and so on. Remember, they are processing all that information from their doctors - so refrain from imparting your knowledge. 

A smile that tells them that you care about them, a deep felt hug and your genuineness are all they want. 

My Maruti and I

I don’t have a thing for cars. I couldn’t care less if I sat in a Skoda, Mercedes, Lamborghini or Rolls. The other day, my kids were discussing cars  they want Praneet to buy, and one of them said ,‘the car I hate the most is the Maruti 800.’

And I thought to myself - Little do they know! What the original Maruti 800 meant to a whole generation of middle-class Indians.

When we were growing up, Dads had scooters, and as they moved up the corporate ladder, a company or self owned car. The world then was divided between people who drove Fiats and those who drove Ambassadors. And both of them considered themselves superior. We were Aamby drivers and scornful of  the Fiat owners. They looked cooped up inside those matchbox cars and the steering wheel seemed to move a lot more than it steered the car! The Fiat was slower than the slowest cycle on the road and god forbid if you got stuck behind one. For us, it was always the fuddy-duddies who drove the Fiat. The Aamby was the King of the Road - strong and solid with loads of leg space. Ofcourse, many a morning (esp in the winters)  the street would be full of cars that owners were trying to start up desperately. And it was common, and fun , to push cars to help them start.

And then came the Maruti. I remember the pride on my Dad’s face that we were the first few hundreds to receive our Maruti in Oct’83.People would stare at the red car with envy and admiration as it hit the road. 

Our red Maruti was a dream! It was fitted with an original engine and had all imported parts . The car was so silent that Dad would check it at the traffic light to ensure the engine was still running. It had great mileage compared to both the Aamby and the Fiat and it came in funky colours too. My parents had lived abroad so we were used to various cars, but all of us loved our little red Maruti. 

Marutis changed the way young Indians drove their cars. It spawned a whole generation of cool dudes. It was the done thing to roll down all the windows, put blaring music and cruise through the GK 1 market, and pretend you did not know people were watching you. At night, loads of Maruti cars at the ice-cream carts at India Gate had the hatchback open with people sitting in the boot, feeling important! 

I used to be delighted when I was given permission to drive the car to college. It was thrilling to overtake every car on the road and zip up and down the flyovers in Delhi. The whole day we would drive around CP and other favourite haunts.And like all good ‘Indian’ things, we ‘please adjusted’ in the tiny Maruti car too. My bunch of pals used to fit into the car, without a complaint, and tumble out when we reached our destination. 

When I think back on my college days, it was the Maruti car that gave me a sense of safety. I was super confident that the car would never stall. That its tiny-ness and pick-up would help me escape any unsavory event. The Maruti car liberated me - it enabled me to travel anywhere , at anytime of the day. My cousins and I would sneak away regularly to grab a quick bite at those dirty chinese vans, do a recce of the current crushes’ houses and pick up stuff we did not want parents to know!

Ofcourse, we all moved on to other cars - bigger, better, more expensive ones! But today if I could hunt out the Maruti we owned, I would buy it back and preserve it forever!! 

That was the only car I truly loved!! 

Rude Indians

A note in the papers stated that Indians are getting ruder. And that parents are to blame for it. There is some truth in the statement, and is reflective of the rapidly changing India and  behaviors that are undergoing a sea change too. Indians are in a rush to become an economic power and aspire to lifestyles of the west - but there is little civic sense , dignity of labour or genuine respect for human beings. What we have is an abundance of false pride, arrogance and superciliousness. 

New money

Most of us earn more than our parents, and the markets are flooded with things that were objects of desire for us when we were kids. Simple things like Toblerone chocolates, Barbie dolls or Hi-Street shops for clothes. We want it all. We want everything our money can buy - and for the rest, there are credit cards. So fancy cars, big homes, great clothes, great toys - we have them all. And once we have these things, we earn the right to be rude. I demand the better parking, a better table at the restaurant, better service in the airline - and if I don’t get it - well I will throw a tantrum. I will not stand in a line - I am filled with my own self-importance! 

Look around you and you will see that rude behavior is the highest in people with new money. And in their kids. I have heard school teachers complain that some parents look down on them because they must earn less!  And are therefore inferior on the social scale!! 

In this whole game of one-upmanship and assessing people based on their cars, houses and jewelry, we are missing a critical detail.  All that we have earned is through sheer hard work. We grew up in a competitive environment with a scarcity mentality and were determined to succeed. Our kids will have to work doubly hard to support these current lifestyles.  Instead, we are bringing up kids who have none of that hunger we had, and have killer attitudes and arrogance. That is not going to help them. 

Rudeness with the staff 

The class divide is the strongest in our houses and teaches our kids a thing or two about rude behavior. Most of us grew up in households where there was help , but we were compelled to make our own beds, lay down the table and help Moms with chores. New money has brought with it the independence to hire more staff at home. And none of us want to lift a finger to do stuff anymore. We are callous to our staff and tick them off at the slightest infarctions. It is OK to be rude to help of all kinds or to not treat them as equals. Most kids I see are extremely rude to their maids and drivers - whether in hitting them, making jibes at them, or in simple things like asking them to wait outside while they have fun with their friends in the room. 

And they learn similar lessons when they see our behaviors with stewards on airlines or in hotels, with banking staff, with vegetable vendors - anyone who provides us with a service. And this undoes any lessons they are taught in equality. 

New fangled ideas on parenting

Most of us grew up in strict middle class households. We were taught to greet visitors and relatives with a Namaste or Sat Sri Akal. We were not encouraged to indulge ourselves when we went out with parents. I remember my mom’s nails digging into my wrist whenever the host asked me if I wanted a Coke - and I had to (disappointedly) say no. We were seen, not heard. And got the occasional spanking too. 

So when we became parents ourselves, we decided to correct the wrongs. We decided that our kids would lead fulfilling lives and have the confidence to tell us what they wanted. They would have the authority to take their own decisions.That we would be ‘friends’ to our kids. 

 I fail to understand parents who let young  kids decide what they want to eat , who they want to play with and whether they want to go somewhere or not! Or parents who are helpless that their kids drink or smoke under peer pressure! Or parents who say their kids don’t listen to them. Or parents who smile indulgently when there kids are downright cheeky and rude -all in the name of being witty!

You give kids authority when they don’t have the emotional bandwidth to decide right from wrong - then don’t complain when they refuse to listen to you and throw tantrums. 

Really - we need not fool ourselves. We are not our children’s best friends. We are their parents.And it is our moral duty to guide them, bully them in order to help them separate the wheat from chaff. 

The class divide only gets stronger, and  there are pressures that the have-nots have too. They aspire to better lifestyles and our behavior tells them that we are privileged and more important than them. Our arrogance sets them on the edge too and therefore, at the slightest provocation, there is a flare-up - on both sides. These flare-ups then get reflected in crimes against women, older people , road rage and a host of other acts. 

All of us need to learn - to make India a better place.