Mindfulness

On the suggestion of a newly made friend, I am driven to write after ages. Something which I had observed during my recent business escapade to Maastricht.

To totally recuperate myself from the age long sabbatical, I have helped my mind with dimly lit room. Thanks to Christmas lights in the living room. To top it all, I have just switched on the radio station ‘Purani Jeans’ on Gaana.com. In recent days, I have started playing it again. Apple music subscription has really made me forget about this gem. I think it was almost two weeks ago; when I accidentally remembered about this app on my phone and jumped with joy on my home-office chair. Although I had some 400 clauses to answer and comply with, yet I took a break to feel the old songs on this radio station. I think the song was ‘Tere Bina Zindagi Se’. This song has always poked something wounded inside me which I could never believe, existed inside me. Listening to this song again made me forget about my tender responses and the deadline. But soon, I found my pace and worked in the shade of good oldies.

Even right now, ‘Chala Jaata Hun Kisi Ki Dhun Mein’ is playing on the lowest volume. Somehow, finding my writer self in this dimly lit, powered by low volume old hindi music (and Turkish neighbors’ chatter) is quiet comforting.

Silence and solitude have been great friends to me. Let it be the solo business trips or working from home. Still, it has been enormously difficult to achieve mindfulness. So many interesting and entertaining observations went in vain.

Now when I had the opportunity to share one of such observation with a friend, she advised me to put it in my blog. And I got a hit. I had completely forgotten about my blog.

On the afternoon of Christmas eve, this friend and my husband had a very healthy and a passionate debate around Europe’s war history and impact on other countries. Of-course, the focus was on Britain and on India. If one thing which my marriage has taught me, is that I can never win an argument with my husband which involves history or science fiction or geography. Ten minutes into the debate, I realized, I should not care to give my two cents in this debate because, he anyway will win this. I just felt sorry for my friend. She did not know what she was getting into. On the other hand, I could really see my husband in gladiator armor, lifting his sword. Gladly I accepted the facetime call from home and moved my sweet arse into the bedroom. When I came back into the room, it was a bloodshed. My friend was panting with frustration or was that a desire to kill; I don’t know. But debating history with my husband does that to people. You end up exhaling a lot because you are searching for right words but can't find them.

My friend went out for a smoke and I decided not to join her thinking she might need some alone time to collect herself. Rest of the afternoon, I spent with her chatting about our past love lives. Soon the discussion led to being independent and to being of a substance in life.

And I vaguely remembered this conference hall scene in Maastricht. I had to go there to attend a conference which was attended by around 60 other people. Account Managers, VPs from big IT firms were in attendance. My colleague and I drove there. We were late hence were sitting in the last row. Before I could focus on the presentation, I found 30-40 partial bald heads staring at me. No women in sight. It was hard to believe that it was 2017. Among those 60 people, it was only 3 women. Including me. Other girl was also an Indian and an account manager. Suddenly a series of thoughts struck me. Why women are not making it to the top of leadership? Are they not ambitious enough? Is having an ambition not important? Are they scared to take risks? Does every woman want to make babies? Even if they do, they don’t want to work hard enough to reach high posts? It took me some time to get out of this cycle of thoughts and focus on the slides.

And during the break, I reflected upon my actions too. How it was really an uneasy task to make an eye contact with the other people in that room during the tea break. Still, I was able to meet and greet the right person. But having felt the scare of taking initiative, I could really feel all the women being scared to take an initiative or to take a risk or fear of becoming a laughing stock in office or in their own home. One of the helping routes; which I have found is to allow myself to make mistakes. And to forgive myself when I make a mistake. You will never be perfect, in-fact perfection is not something I should even aim for. Be the best version of yourself. Make mistakes but be intelligent enough to not repeat them. Make your "own mistakes". Do not copy others’.

In the end, game of mindfulness remains.

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Even though you did not experience a great tragedy, it should not stop you from enjoying a great sad song. Aptly radio station is playing ‘Mera Jeevan Kora Kaagaz’.