Nani

I had an accident a week ago. A hot water bottle burst on me and I got 2nd degree burns on my leg and stomach. While this experience was new, unwanted and unexpected, it left a bucket of learning for me. I was/still am at my lowest. No amount of conversations, counseling and care for self helped in lifting my spirits up. I felt lifeless and joyless and lonely. Because I was physically restrained and unable to go to work, move around, in bare terms, I was room arrested for a week, I compensated by making my mind run. Did it serve me well? I don't know.

I thought, I over thought and thought some more. Amidst all of them, there was one particular chain of thought that disturbed me, shook me, made me weep.

My Nani was this adorable, soft spoken, religious lady who left parts of herself in each one of the members of my family. She physically suffered a lot during this lifetime of hers. Having rheumatoid arthritis for over 35 years of her life, she had restricted physical mobility. From arms to legs to most of her body, we helplessly saw her getting deteriorated and it tore each one of us to see her going through this pain. As a child, I saw her doing just some of the tasks with little difficulty. But in spite of her physical condition, my childhood was filled with pinnis, paath and pyaar, all my Nani special. As I grew up, I learnt how her body had more limitations now. Some and more of the tasks were taken up by others in the house. Nevertheless, if there were less of pinnis from her, there was more time she would sit in that corner of the house and do paath. Relentlessly. As I grew up, she grew old. My achievements meant more of data points than a fully understood story that she would have remembered. The last couple of years before she passed on to a higher life were immensely difficult for her. From turning around in her bed to going to the washroom, she needed help for most of the things now. Each of her children and grandchildren patiently helped her with chores big or small. But irrespective of how tough the night would have been, she still spoke to me every morning, blessing me and wishing me a good day ahead. No matter how difficult walking even 4 steps were, she would still join us at the lunch and dinner table every day. Filling my memories with her presence, in her own way.

I love her and miss her just like my favourite toy from childhood. So close in my memory yet so far. Today, when I am in this utter pain, I take each step with difficulty and crib, I think of her.

How did her self-talk look like with all that pain? How did she find courage from within to carry out normal tasks of the day? How did she still continue to do paath and have so much faith in Akaal Purakh?

I thought I was an empathetic human. I thought I fairly understood how human mind functioned. Then how did I just focus on her physical pain? Was I even empathizing all along?

As I continued to feel sad, sorry, helpless, I couldn't help but appreciate the fact of how she was such a strong woman who not only fought a long physical battle but an even arduous mental one. I wonder how inside of her mind looked. And I believe, if I can tell myself even an iota of positive things she would have told herself, I will sail through this physical pain of mine.

She indeed left parts of herself in each of us. It's just a matter of time until we discover them. And once we do, there is no turning back. There is just before and after.

12.5 Hours Apart

A while ago, I boarded a flight and came over to a country that's 12.5 hours apart from all the people I love. And vice versa. How do I feel? I don't know. Even though this while has been days by now. The days have turned into months and will eventually turn into years. I guess, I may still not know how this move makes me feel. But it's okay. Or may be I am learning to be okay with this state of mind.

Apparently, the rate at which things changing around and within me is far more than I can process or capture. For now, I am going to pen down couple of things I'd want to preserve from my still being a new comer in this country, still being able to look around with that silly wonder on my face and while I still can get excused for not knowing how it is 'supposed' to be for most of the things. All of this without being judged, rather being embraced with wide, virtual, open arms by my folks as much as it has been by the strangers that I am beginning to familiarize myself with. So, here am I giving the tangible form to what inside of my head looks like right now.

1. 'I am grateful for the unspeakable telepathy of loved ones and strangers alike'

Someone I was talking to the other day mentioned how I might be super scared and unsure right now but I will be just fine. These Canadian Rockies take care of everyone eventually. Of course, that was just the symbolism of the higher power that's going to make sure I get to experience the rose petals along with thorns on my path. One of the strange ways I have found that happening is in the low moments of my trying to push through, there have been external knocks reminding me, I am not actually alone. Even though the days and nights might be reversed or I may not know even a single soul in this city, there have been times when I am in tears and a random guest in the house I stay in has asked me to come watch TV with him. Or it's in the middle of the (Indian) night, I'd get a Facetime call. There are these unique ways that make hopping over that moment easier. And it's only a moment that is usually the most difficult to go past, right?

2. 'Just do the next 24 hours well'

In between swinging from past to future to past, I feel torn apart. Because my past in no aspect is going to be in comparison to my future. From seasons to culture to food to experiences, it's all new. Better or even better? I don't know. But it's in fact, strange because I don't have a reference point for any of the comparatives. I hear people saying, the warmer winter, the tastier Wendy's burger, the better Sale season. I'd usually just pass on a smile in such conversations because there is still some time before I start living my life in comparatives here. Until then, shall we just do the next 24 hours well?

3. 'Give me reminders of the way life carries on'

I am intrigued and in awe of how gracefully people carry small talk in this country. My conversations with them have been during my Uber trips, train rides, coffee shops, office pantry. Each person, in their own unique ways have shared their life stories, heard mine, or the least given me these tiny reminders that irrespective of what happens, the people you lose, the miles you travel away, the faith that shakes up once in a while, life carries on. And it is extremely important to remind myself of that, right?

4. 'It isn't a unicorn'

When I was back in India, everything about this faraway world would fascinate me, lend a twinkle to my eyes, as if everything on this faraway land is going to be perfect. No doubt, it's pretty and fancy but it's no unicorn. I experience real emotions of jealousy, gluttony, self-doubt, exhaustion, just like I would back home. There are adult and mature things of taxes, laws, politics, weather and all things that aren't as pretty but just real. But yes, if I just dust off that realness, the sheen of the unicorn does make my 6 year old self, my folks back home happy. And if that doesn't fulfill my purpose then what does, right?

5. 'Notice the easy to miss moments'

I have fallen prey to the human tendency of trying to convince myself that nothing's changed even when everything around me changed. So, it's usually in these tiny moments that pop up, subtly yet loudly remind me of this change. Sometimes for good, others may be not. But here's a reminder to catch onto those easy to miss moments the next time I hold a Tim Horton's coffee or I pack blackberries as my mid morning snack. Or when I casually walk around the house in my pajamas while it's -23 degrees outside. There is enough warmth in those moments. And if I can let that warmth give me company (until I'm alone here), I should be fine, right?

Until next time, onward and upward! :)