THE YEAR IT WAS FT. FINDING MYSELF

Hours to go.

Hours to go for 2016 to end.

Hours to go for a fresh start, or so they have us believing.

I don’t believe in fresh starts anymore. I don’t believe in life changing lines, days, moments or speeches; and I don’t believe in the people who preach that. Life doesn’t hinge on a one specific mind blowing moment, that one girl who responded to your ‘palat, palat, palat’ or the guy who said the right things or one soul searching trip with your friends. Life is much, much more. Life is too long to fall into place because of a single event. It’s a long process, and 2016 was the beginning of this process for me for which I am so grateful for.

People have been cursing 2016 for the fiascos that had been happening in the sociopolitical world, but since I measure a year by my self growth I would say 2016 has been a pretty wonderful year for me, a personal best.

2016 has helped me connect to myself and I think that’s the best thing that can happen to you. I think we have got it so wrong – life in general. We have laid our priorities on superficial things forgetting our roots. What people say, what they think, what they perceive – once in a while we should let it go and try to pay attention to our needs. People lay too much stress on relationships and forget to nurture the biggest and the longlasting one – with self. There’s something about this relationship with the self that makes most of us guilty to indulge in, but can be extremely satisfying in the required amounts.

A lot had been happening in life before that, a lot of downs, so 2016 made me get over that and accept the life the way it is and most importantly love it no matter what.

I have this habit of clicking random things while my mother wants me to capture the interesting lion. Some zoo at Shimla.

I gave up accumulating regrets. I did or at least made an effort to do everything that I wanted to do and the things that I couldn’t I learnt to let it go. I picked up the gifted guitar gathering dust in the corner and tried learning to play it. When the chord F effed up my patience, I strummed it randomly pretending to be the best guitarist ever and creating a ruckus in the house. But hey, at least I tried?

On the professional or college front – God, fourth year has been so awesome – community medicine postings, hospital duties, interacting with patients, learning and absorbing it all. From being the camera shy person ( still am) to enjoying the occasional selfie with my buddies. From being the bathroom dancer ( I sing publicly) to dancing to my heart’s content in parties and concerts. From letting events slip by to participating. Letting the world see what I write *shivers* and knowing that even though a few, people look forward to reading me. From being tensed about every exam to realising that grades really don’t define you in the long run. Building up an awesome set of friends cum support system who love me, got my back and are my loudest cheerleaders. You tell me I am great when I know I am not. Thank you. Love you. You guys. *melts into a puddle of tears*

Batch picnic at Pradhanpat Falls. My friend & I roamed every corner of it with me trying to get the perfect shot of the beautiful place. 

 

My streak of travelling continued into 2016 for which I am so grateful. I visited 9 places this year and carried a bagful of memories back. Travelling has changed me but most importantly I have changed towards travelling.

My last trip of 2016 was to Puri. The people, the chaos – for the first time the cacophony in the Puri Jagannath temple welcomed me, and I embraced it. The hustle bustle of the Ananda Bazaar inside ( That’s a huge, huge exclusive marketplace inside the temple compound where they sell prasaada of different kinds, those brahmins offering tankapani at nominal rate, khajjas – oh my god – I wish they allowed us to click pictures), striking up a conversation with the vendors and knowing that all the prasada  was sourced from the common kitchen having 752 cooking areas ( W-H-A-T?).

The beaches, oh my, Puri and the adjoining areas have the most pristine beaches – they are absolutely soul food. I got over my fear of water and played with the sea – which was a huge deal for me – cause that’s a first in, hold your breath, 22 years. So, if you have been following me on Instagram that explains all the me with the sea videos. Watching dolphins in Satpada was the highpoint of trip; I wish I could have captured the slithery, elusive cute-to-bits animal. To go off the designated route to wander off into the uncharted areas (do that with care guys) has brought in a new perspective. I have been to Puri before, but the change in me reflected in the way I perceived it.

I want to write more about each place I visited but I’m afraid it would turn into a long travelogue. So, down with that.

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Letting go of criticism has been a hard but a necessary thing that I’ve done. From the day we are born we are made to listen and obey – sometimes things like this seep into our conscious and we forget our individuality relying on what others perceive of us.

I had been to an alumni meet recently where the people had gathered after 30 years or so from the days of being college mates to now occasional how have you beens. I observed how they narrated their children’s achievements and snubbed the ones that were not UpTo the mark or in some field that wasn’t engineering or medical by going on and on about this foreign university, that IIT and some IIM. I couldn’t help but muse, here they are – people who have led successful lives, wanting to live through the their children again by imposing their desires. 

Where does the want end? Where do we find the satisfaction? Where do we be content with who we are than how we look on the paper and on a virtual profile? 

I have faced enough unjustified criticism in my life; people who wanted me to be a certain way, dress up in a way, talk in a certain way, do what they want and be someone who I am not. To all these people I gave my indifference and continued to work hard at doing what I love. The day you stop trying to please everyone and living for the limelight is the day you become a contented person.

I am halfway there but I am trying to be more content by – not looking forward to a milestone but the moment. To love someone not for what they can become but who they are. To breathe in life. To exhale positivity. To complimenting people than putting them down for petty reasons. To grow above superficialty.  To making a difference in other’s lives be it an animal or humans.

I have been doing more, learning more and changing more; all the while trying to keep the essence of my soul alive. I have embraced life, and the ice on its heart has started thawing.
2016 has been such an amazing year, and believe it or not, I had no hopes or wishes from it. So, here’s a repeat telecast of wishes for 2017 – not hoping much but just expecting peace and good vibes – internally hoping it turns out as awesome as 2016 or even better. And as for 2016,

Thank you for giving me, Me.

I’ll miss you.

I want to write more but I got to go and live some more.

Love,

Parnini.

Clicked it at Satpada at the mid-way stop – an island where we had lunch and then walked over from these waters of Chilika to the other side to be greeted by the sea.

Birthday gift, marigolds and a 100rs note.

The title can seem quite misleading considering the current state of events, where the government’s sudden breakup with 500s and 1000s has led to people valuing the humble Rs 100 note again. Though, nah, that’s not what this post is about.

My sister’s birthday is tomorrow, for which the dear little kid about to enter her teens took me out on a last minute save-your-life shopping spree. You know how kids can be these days, eh? We did a cruise of mega marts, supermarkets, shops upon shops to cross all the elusive things on her list – “Apa, I want, I want, I NEED A CHOKER; like all those girls in school had been wearing on their birthdays”, not bothering to explain her the difference between want and need, I focused on the next attainable one, ‘Black stocking’ –eh, I know where I can get them. So, I went on another tirade of shop-hopping, to be turned down by 6 different shops. I cussed under my breath. There we were, not yet done with the list and I had to get her a birthday gift too, which would take god knows how much time to find.

Just as I was about to back my scooty to leave I noticed this old couple sitting on the road on a faded, almost tattered towel. Infront of them was a plastic sheet on which they had arranged neatly a pile of marigolds, which looked ignored and almost faded, dooba patra (can’t translate from Odia, sorry!) and mango leaves. The old couple looked dejected, the kind that just tugs at your heart, and I just couldn’t help but buy some even if I didn’t need it. I bought 20 rupees worth of flowers. Normally I do not talk to strangers even if I want to, but I couldn’t help myself.

“Ajja, eii phula kouthu anucha?”, i asked. (Grandpa, where do you get these flowers from?)

“Hei neiaase aama chinha jane. Buddha loka kemti kouthu anibi.”, he replied. (I ask someone to bring with his lot. I’m too old to do that.)

At this point the old woman tried wrapping her almost bare body with the loose end of her sari, and I remarked, “Apana maane emti thanda paaga re eithi basichanti, deha kharaap heijiba.” (It’s so cold yet you’re sitting out here, you’ll fall sick.)

The old man sniffed and replied, “Kaama na kale paisa kouthu asiba, jhia”. (If we don’t work, where will we get money from.”

Finally, I found the thread I was looking for.

“Apanka kehi pua jhia nahanti ki?”, I enquired. (You don’t have any children?)

“Pua jhia katha na pacharile bhala. Kehi amaku pacharibaku nahin”, they replied. (Better to not ask about them. We don’t have anyone who cares about how we are doing.)

I didn’t give up and tried probing them a little more.

“Kouthi achanti se? Kan kaama karanti? Apana tanka paakhe rahu nahanti?”, I fired a set of questions (Where are they? What do they do? Why don’t you live with them?)

The old woman broke down and started to explain. They have two sons, both left them to go and work in Gujarat in some clothing factory. Even though they earn, they do not support their parents; leave alone sending money, they didn’t care to come meet them. The old couple sleep near the Jagannath temple and sell flowers to support themselves. On the days they sell something, they have something to eat while on other days they go hungry.

I got misty-eyed, and so did they. 

The old man mustering up his dignity requested me not to ask him more of his sons who had left them alone to fend for themselves, but I didn’t feel like leaving it at that, afterall what is 20rs worth these days? Not even a proper meal. I didn’t want to hurt their self-esteem – after all instead of begging they had chosen to work and earn – but I couldn’t think of a way. Then I got an idea and whispered in my sister’s ears giving her a 100rs note to give to the woman.

She agreed to it and went up to the old woman and recited what I had asked her to say, “Aae, mora kaali janmadina, eita niantu aau mate aasirbaad diantu.” (Grandma, tomorrow is my birthday, please accept this and give me your blessings.)

I was afraid the old woman would see through my lame ploy ( I’m not a genius at these things) but she gratefully accepted it; her eyes welled up and her lips broke into the widest of smiles. My sister touched both of their feets and they blessed her. Then we bade them goodbye.

As my sister got on the scooty behind me, I tried suppressing my smile and asked, “I gave away the last 100rs note, now I only have a useless 500 one. No stockings?”

She replied in a contented manner, “It’s okay Apa, I don’t need them anymore.”

 

I guess I had given her, her birthday gift.

 

PS- When I was returning I didn’t feel satisfaction or gratified at having done someone good, all I could feel was polluted – at the thought that there are kids who neglect their parents. Who forgets the womb that held them, the hand that clasped their finger till they were strong enough to push it away? Who turns back on the one relation that would never turn on them? Who lets them shiver on the road trying to sell wares that no one buys, sleep in cold abandoned places, starve and lament?

What bigger tragedy, than the thirst of a loved one?

PPS – I didn’t capture their faces but my mind has captured their smiles at the end.

PPPS – My sister just found a pair of stockings she had bought last winter.