My 5 point template to deal with failure.


The cool shades of the Drone’s club, the rustle of leaves, the waft of very strong Coffee and Golibhajje. This is the right time to contemplate.
Actually Siddaramaiyya Bellad and his wife Sarasvati (Sid and Sara to you and me) had got me into this thing called Landmark Forum, a place where seasoned coaches would pull out the roaches from the deep hidden annals of your forgotten inner self, air it, and let go back to that blissful state of being unperturbed with happenings outside, with the gratifying knowledge that you have done your best and are now a better version of yourself.
One of the exercises we had there was to ask 10 people to share what they think is the best trait in you. When in Rome do as the Romans do… I put the Bolo on that one and the majority of my friends and family seem to think when it comes to bouncing back I could give the rubber ball a run for its money, mind you not a boomerang.
By this time my second coffee had hit and the spirit of that fellow Socrates must have seeped in, I kind of contemplated … Here is an excerpt from that internal conversation.
“How do I deal with failure or disappointment?”
“What do you mean by failure or disappointment?”
“I dunno.”
“What does Merriam-Webster say?”
“About failure… ” my conscious mind needed to ponder,”omission of occurrence or performance, lack of success, falling short.”
“What about disappointment?”
“It is failure to meet a hope or expectation.”
As this conversation was going on, for some unearthly reason I remembered a priest telling us about snakes, how the deforestation and construction work has confused the snake, their paths are blocked and destinations inaccessible. Many snakes have perished because they do not know how to find their way to their destination, while many snakes survived because they could navigate through a new path.
It was a like a thunderbolt…without the third shot of coffee…I had an epiphany that is what disappointment or failure meant to me… not reaching my destination and what I did was to find the new path.
Let’s be honest, at that moment I was only fit for the loony Dr.Glossop’s diagnosis of “Denial”. According to him, there are stages like denial…
Anger of course; in my teenage years I have planned elaborate execution procedures on people who got better of me.
Bargaining…I shall light 12 candles at mother of all sorrows if I can sit on my butt with out it hurting.
Depression… the sun will never shine again since the love of my life has gone away.
Acceptance
I think Dr. Glossop has taken a franchise on this — he doles it out for handling grief and what not — but we being groomed at the Drone’s club acknowledge that failure and disappointment are matters of grief. Each of those have been effected only when I took the next step…this was handed down to me by my immediate ancestor, my grandmother … she would brew me a great cuppa of Theobroma. I think she put in a drop of brandy and let me sleep it over next morning. She had a ritual called “Stock taking” which began with putting down on paper:
  1. What is the result I am looking at?
  2. What is the current state?
  3. What have I done that has worked?
  4. What are the other options?
  5. Take that step right away.
Somehow the process of grieving, shedding tears, venting my anger, would drain me, and it was as if the hot chocolate triggered the rejuvenation and I am back navigating.
And sometimes during the candid stock taking the truth hits you: your destination is warped.

This is written for Indispire#187

 

 

The Nations within the Subcontinent.

Yes it is time we understand and accept that India that as we know it today is only yrs old.

Yes we are a land of diversity, of food, culture, thought. Time and again we are told of the great tradition that we come from. But history is always the story of the winner. It the narrative of the most powerful or the loudest bully in town.

When it comes to India, I do not know when we will understand that we are not ONE nation or ONE country we are a subcontinent ofnationalities. There are multiple identities and layers, multiple loyalties.  Sometimes I wonder if “my country” is only a place I make up in my mind. Something I dream of and sing because it is being marketed to me full throat. More

A Peek Into The Past.

If I could bring back someone from the other side of the rainbow bridge just for one day would I do it? and who would it be…?

Haa! A tough one, imagine being peaceful some of them even in new bodies and hey presto, I decide to bring them back, it would be like the Harry Potter spell ridikulus!!  JKRowlings didn’t attempt it either, she talked of the stone bringing people back and they being shadows of their old selves. Maybe it is a better to invite the ghost.

After all ghosts are energies of the people no, actually ghosts are the energies of people as we have perceived them. so here is where I come to death… when does a person really die when he is forgotten when there is no one to remember them. Those are the very people who come alive in their astral or energy form in my clinic.

Like Neville poor guy was not even aware that he was dead, he was living in Mr.S’s life for almost 15rs. Mr.S could only feel the burden, in the trance when requested any presence other than Mr.S to come up Neville said hello, his language was crude and he was very rude and aggressive, eventually he trusted us to guide him to the light. but the entire hour was quite difficult.

When NR was dealing with health issue it was time to look into her space, there were no extra energies, but hallelujah it was her own past life we had call from beyond the rainbow for about 2hrs. We had to understand her life and journey as Channa, who witnessed a murder at the Haldighat war, it resulted in her being thrown into a well and the consequences of that she was dealing with a estranged marriage and poor physical health.

Then there was SG again the story of estranged marriage and poor health, here we had to go into her past life, invite her own avatar as a warrior, who was awaiting his lady love, to apologize to, in that life she had chosen war over her spouse, that was scary.

Yes these are people we got back from the beyond and guided them to where they had to go. Despite of understanding that the souls leave the earth when their journey is over, it is best to leave them at peace, if they are not at peace we need to guide them to a resolution blah!blah! in my secret wishing well I have a person that I would like to call from beyond the rainbow, but I do not know who , I am not even sure if this person is male or female, this person holds the key to a story narrated by two of patients who do not know each other and are from absolutely different locations.

It is the story of temple in remote hinterlands of Goa when the Kadamba kings were on a conquest there was a cave temple where fire worship and rituals were going on, the Brahmin priest was very devout. The first patient saw the priests wife going to the river that flowed by as she filled the pot, she saw somebody swim by or so she thought, it turned out to a body floating she saw six more, when she tried to investigate, she saw an royal looking woman on the other side, who spotted her and shot her with an arrow, the last thing she could see was the woman scrambling up.

The other patient, said, he was on the banks of the same place, but on the other side he was the Kadamba Prince and he was awaiting his lady love a princess who belonged to this mysterious land. He called the princess Kamala, though he did not know her real name. The princess had given him access to the secret pathway which lead to the cave where the royal family was doing the fire ritual.  He had sent his soldiers ahead they had entered the cave and beheaded the priest and the royal family there were seven bodies in all that were thrown into the river.

The realized there should have been eight, the priests wife he could see her at the river bank, she had spotted Kamala, the princess to keep herself safe killed the woman. She scrambled before the defending soldiers could arrive,

At this point he came out of trance, but I would definitely like to know more both about what happened to Kamala, for the Kadamba Kings ruled Goa for long the royal family still resides at Ponda. It would be interesting to track this story.

written for indispire 179 edition, prompt by Nabanita who blogs at http://eatwithnabz.blogspot.in/

Revisit Destination

This weekend really seemed idyllic with MrD in far away Bhubaneswar attending one of those events where people with cranial cavities enriched with grey matter met, to let other people with similarly filled cranial cavity know how much more they know and of course intercepted with loads of food that is created by fusion of local food and the Punjabi cooks know how learnt when his mother dandled him on her lap. So at the end of the day all food across the country tastes the same.

When Anita from BNLF club decided to whip some frenzy about the place that I would like to revisit… like all Indians who have had formal education my English is challenged and so is my kannada, I have no recourse other than to consult Messrs. Merriam-Webster and then Messrs. Wren and Martins.

One does miss Jeeves at times like this when I could get all feudal and ask for his opinion or instead of “leave it Psmith” I do the normal Ekta Kapoor daughter-in-law and proclaim, “Leave it MrD” well that is not to be either, so I have to answer this..

Place I would like to visit.. What do I answer? At one point in my life I used think I know all the answers, and then I thought maybe a few answers, and now that I have finally reached dotage I am not sure I understand the question… Nobody seems to know anything… okay lets take a grid analysis that might help me answer the question.

To revisit is visit again  it could be a place, an incident.

While place is like an onion with many layers, when to add revisit to a layer we might land up with different flavours, I know I have the look of Stunned Simple Simon, well it is just because Messrs. M-W have let me down rather badly I am placed in such a situation that I do not want to revisit the homepage of M-W for a while.

Sometime back I met up with a friend who told me about a Buddhist writer, who lived of course after the Buddha but BC—I mean before Christ and not Before Coffee who said reading a book for the second time is a new experience altogether, for the second experience comes with the your first experience, like wise no matter where you go, and how you go that is walking or going by train the experience is different beginning with the journey seeming shorter the second time than the first… and you realize that we are measuring distance by time and miles and yards.

Through my life I have been to lot of places, some historic places, some romantic places, some depressives places, then are places full of new developments with double car garages and characterless flats with its underground parking and over head pools, surrounded by pastorally trimmed lawns and dotted laughing children, the town have lost their unique identity.

Then when we revisit a place there is this confusing development in the geographic expanse called “Development” things that changed seem out of place, and the things that have remained the same make us feel out of place!

We’ll make mistakes but one of our biggest mistake is continually to revisit the past, for when we revisit a place we are revisiting our past in that geographic expanse, at is bound to change, for we have we are older, the town is older too.traveller

If you ask me the place I would like to revisit, well there can be no other like the Castle of Blandings, the residence of Lord Emsworth and his prize Pig the Empress Of Blandings.

Like Dejan Stojanovic —

“I visited many places,
Some of them quite
Exotic and far away,
But I always returned to myself.”

written for Indispire edition 175 proposed by Anita

 

Kuwabara —

Incandescent rains, warm cup of coffee, a plate of banana chips, my feet firmly tucked under the cushion of the living room, I was lost in the land of intrigue and murder,

My right eye began twitching; now every blighter and blighteress in town knows that the right eye twitching means stressful situations ahead.  That’s when aunt Rajini’s favourite black cat crossed Paddamma’s path, and Paddamma the resident authority divination screeched….”apashakuna!!!” again apashakuna as all diligent viewers of Hindi TV series know is a bad omen.

One can’t help feeling sorry for the black Cat, I don’t mean the commando’s I mean the four legged feline, having to check out for screeching Paddamma’s before they go anywhere, I like to keep it simple,

If your nose itches it means it wants to be scratched there

if a black cat crosses your path its going somewhere.

I was told by relevant authorities that old wives tales need not be superstitions, for old wives tales sits deep in folk wisdom, while superstition emerges from ignorance or fear of the unknown.  I have the authority of Bertrand Russell to say so, not to mention the stringent training by Merriam-Webster.

Now there is Stuart Vyse PhD actually calls superstition, Magical thinking , you check out his book Believing in Magine: Psychology of Superstition. Back to his authority, most people touch wood, believe in witches and ghosts, daayan’s and chudail in India. I do some unguarded moments, when thoughts like what is the psychology behind magical thinking, is it good or bad, do  we suffer more when we don’t understand or is understanding in itself a challenge!! Touch wood those moments pass over quite fast.

Taking a deep breath before I start doing something is a ritual that calms me, If I take only six deep breathes with counts in place then that becomes obsessive compulsive disorder,(OCD) and if I believe that my work will be doomed if I do not do the ritual that becomes superstition.

Probably the need for certainty is the driving force behind most superstition.  At times I wonder if keeping my fingers crossed, is just positive re-enforcement and an affirmation that I have placed my faith universe, maybe the sheer discomfort of keeping the fingers crossed keeps me focused on the goal.  This maybe an emotional placebo that allows for belief enhancement.

Then there are those superstitions that trigger phobia, if hand a broom to someone you will have an argument with that person ; of course you will, I doubt if any one will appreciate being asked to do a clean sweep… or clean dirty bins superstitions can lull you into false security ask the gambler who lost the last poker game… I know of girl who stayed indoors an entire day because she sighted a single mynah when she went out and the school ditty was

One for sorrow

Two for joy

Three for a letter

Four for a boy

Guess as we grow older, along with elves, and Santa we lose faith in superstitions.  Vyse is gender biased he says women are more superstitious than men. What I understand is– People prone to anxiety disorders tend to attract superstitions. People who believe they are He-man (he is the master of the universe) tend to be less superstitious, as compared to the “Oh! The World is out harass me” believers.

Just because you rub the feet of John Harvard statue at Harvard for good luck does not make you the next study material for Sir Roderick Glossop, chill,  it could just be your source of comfort,  a way of connecting with the greater community, your loved ones whatever

When my  right twitches I know it time to quit, that is quit worrying for  my stress level are probably heading to the nearest Kanchenjunga or at least Sonsogor (highest peak in Goa.) but of course if the twitching persists, then into my mind creeps the monster called “What-if” and we are back on our way to Sonsogor, then I deliberately identify something that is out of balance in my zone, attribute the twitch to the that, cut cords, thank  Archangel Gabriel for the annunciation and move on.

But again when afflicted by the thinking disorder, I do wonder what sustains the superstitions to linger generation after generation…I have recently been told by Emma Goldman that, patriotism, is a superstition artificially created and maintained through a network of lies and false hoods, a superstition that robs man of his self respect and dignity and increases his arrogance and conceit” it’s time to ponder on this Kuwabara1superstition

Kuwabara is the Japanese/Chinese slang for superstition. Kuwabara actually means Mulberry tree forest and it is believed that the Mulberry tree cannot be struck down by lightening so saying Kuwabara; Kuwabara protects the speaker from being struck down by lightening.

This blog is written for the #172 Edition of Indispire prompt put forth by R.Ramesh who blogs at http://ramesh-randomrambling.blogspot.in/

When You are Happy and You Know it

I am happy when…

After consuming dollops and gallons of Sir Roderick Glossop’s books and detailed gossip sheets that he calls case history of patients, I am at crossroads, what is it that want to know, unlike Amitabh Bacchan on KBC I can give you two options, do you want to know how do I know I am happy or do you want to know what makes me happy.

When people are sad they seem to recognize a coldness within themselves, and a heaviness and lot of other Monster-Ness, but when it comes to happiness one has to follow the path of Don Quixote and go on a quest in the ashram of  Swami Instantjoymixs,  we were told that when we are truly happy, that is the time we connect with out higher self, the great spirit and the universe.

I actually saw images of my silhouette, rhombus shaped radiating powerful waves into the universe, it was too tiring the image fades a mite too quick.

My understanding is if I need to Castlerock I need to recognize Castlerock and like most of humanity, I do not know how to recognize happiness, after closely observing the antics of Pop Glossop one bright way I realized was to put together all the words that could lead to the state of no agitation or helps to tame the Monster-Ness, here is what I learnt from Guru-Glossop

Happiness is elusive; because there is no Betty Crocker telling you add a dash of cinnamon and a pinch of pepper, we go quintessential… we know when it happens.

Of course happy ancestors make happy progeny this what the Gregory Mendel guy proved, the fellow who rolled the stone up the hill, said it was a moment before the stone rolled down, the wicked stepmother of snow white claimed it was the moment of relief when she was sure that snow-white was history. My nephew tells me it is the moment before we walk into ice-cream parlour and my mother tells me it is moment when someone massages her scalp. To Charles M. Schulz happiness is a warm puppy, while for George Burns it was having a large, loving, caring, close knit family in another city.

After all this serious fact gathering of society and real and fairy tale I can say I am happy when I have one of these symptoms.

Amused Joyful
Anticipated Kindness
Awestruck Lively
Balanced Love
Blessed Mellow
Celebrate Motivated
Cheerful Optimistic
Confident Peaceful
Content Playful
Giving Relieved
Helpful Satisfaction
Honourable Social
Hopeful Spiritual
Humour Thankful
Inspired

Of course nature wants us to be unhappy once in a while, so we remember to thank her for the joys of life.

PS Sir Roderick Glossop the who adorns the Drone’s wreath of top-notch loony-catchers, and the slayer of happiness snatchers recommends  a safe method of dealing with Monster-Ness,

  • Print the 31 symptoms of happiness.
  • Tick all that happened to you during the day.
  • Repeat for next 21 days.

I am assured by the experienced clientele of Sir Roderick Glossop that with each passing day, the things we are happy about increase…

As for what makes me happy… well someone to love, something do, and something to hope for.

It’s a BlogAdda WOW post

 

 

 

To Decree or Not?

When people Judge, they are going through a process of forming an opinion or evaluation by discerning and comparing. That is quite an acceptable process, isn’t it a scientific process to come to a logical conclusion. There is also a capacity that guides these judgments.

Maybe what we are talking when we say people judging us—we are talking about utterance of an authoritative opinion, there is a decree that is pronounced… a label that gets attached. This label could influence the way people react to us.

Yes people who have judged me in the past do adorn my hall of monsters today. I did walk to through the corridor saying I don’t care a fig about what you call me, “Noodiswami naavirode heege” despite that deep within it did count, I felt victimized, until I attended the landmark curriculum for living where I realized people may judge you or may not judge that is their prerogative, then others may accept that judgement or not that is their prerogative, the only bit that you can control is your reactions and your judgement.

It does however take tremendous effort to forgive myself for being affected by those judgements, but EFT, cord-cutting does help me over come my belief in a judgement decreed upon. Sounds clichéd right that is how this works though.

I remember my mother and her friends talking about Mrs. Talbot, who used be quite bizarre by those days standards she wore sleeveless blouses apparently had affairs with prominent powerful men, would not cook, and make her young kids do the house work etc. etc. thirty years later during a casual conversation her daughter lets on that Mrs. Talbot was diagnosed Bipolar and was under medication.

There is this beautiful concept in the Landmark forum it is called already always listening, that is I pass a judgement on a person, let’s say I take a stance that Dr.G   thinks I am dumb blonde, then all my  interactions with Dr.G will through this filter, no matter what communication he puts I will tend to wrap it in the Dr.G thinks I am dumb filter!! The minute we take that filter out the quality of the interaction and communication varies.

To me judgements says more about the labeller than the labelled. It is not about what they call you it is about what you answer to.

Coming to do I judge people, I must be how else will I interact with someone, even when I say I am judging it means I have relevant information, I have come to a conclusion the conclusion may favour the person in question or may not but I do go through the process, what I mean is I will not label you. And I may not depend on this set of information and conclusion for any other interaction we may have in the future.

It is an effort each time, to step back and take a call, when I am dealing with people my labels for them does pop out, what helps is dialogue, an opportunity for people to communicate from outside the limitations of their points of views, when we enter a circle of dialogue, judgements could alter, labels could falter, only humans are in the conversation.

Before I declare,”it is like that only” have you noticed, people who talk about detachment, and religion tend to point their fingers instead of extending a helping hand? I am being judgement here am I not?

written for indispire edition 172  #judgingpeople

Posted by pranju chakrapani under Memoirs

Yer ur busted.

“Wow, Auntie Sammy has outdone herself” … the lilting voiced Leela seemed to say.

Well, what now?

“Andy she has written for Nostalgia”

“So what I have written for the magazine Back To The Future

“You idiot, she has written about the adventure she and your mom had, they tried to bake a cake.”

“So what lot of people do?”

“Well they did it illegally”

“what do you mean” Andy had visions of his mom and aunt breaking into the neighbourhood grocery store to steal the ingredients.

“Grandma had not given them permission.. You Savvy?”

“so”

“the prognosis was they could not sit for the next week.”

“OOH! We learn from history, I bet we can bake a cake and auntie would be clueless.”

Andy was sceptic but he did not want to pass up a chance to impress the lilting voiced Leela, out came the laptop, the template for baking a cake. After a lengthy debate, and quick look at the ingredients available the kids settled for eggless, vanilla cake.

“You need Maida, Lee and not roti-wallah flour”

“You mean they are different, ”

“of course, “Andy could see the appreciation in Lee’s eyes,  with his superior knowledge being recognized they zipped through the cake baking quite quickly.

Sifting the flour with baking powder, adding in the butter and sugar.

Three drops of vanilla.

Milk and vinegar and they prestige hand mixer helped to bring it to a smooth paste.

The idli tray was greased and the batter poured in, and mixture was baked at 175degrees for half an hour, while cake baked, the other kids got chips, and coke and the impromptu party took place. Andy never felt more thrilled.

You know those days when you have had unexpected joys bestowed on you like an cool party at home, and the Lilting voice Lee batting her eye at you, one does feel blessed and one can also anticipate the dull ache on the Butt from distant memories, without wanting to trigger a what with the handbag from mom, Andy started the cleaning procedure,

he brought in extra flour to replace the used flour, vanilla essence didn’t matter, baking powder mom would not notice, sugar replenished from the main stock, butter again mom would not notice as she does not eat butter, vinegar went right back to its place. Hand mixer washed and its slot on the wall.

Plates washed and returned to its places, the chips packets and cola cans right into the trash…Andy congratulated  himself on his foresight for he actually took the dry trash to the main bin so awkward questions would not be asked.

Vacuuming the living rooms and tidying the books, after all a gang of half a dozen of teenagers does get rowdy.

Done and dusted,

With a besotted smile Andy snuggled into his bed, he knew that Lee was sufficiently impressed, in his dream  she had decided to go out with him, “Not because you bake like a dream, but you were ingenious enough to fool your mom.”

Yup his mother was a star at the mom’s college though she did not dole out the standard stuff, she didn’t need a good stare did it all.

Just as he was about to present Lilting voice Leela the rose, “Whack”

He wondered if the chair hit him when he knelt to give the rose, but when opened his eyes, it was his mom, nostrils flaring, deep breathing,

“Where is the cake?”

“Cake what cake!!”

“the one that you baked here,”

“How did you know” he stammered, he didn’t even consider stout denial, there was something about lean mom brandishing a handbag that the truth would blurt out as if having a power of its own,

The stare just continued,

“Sneaky Sid,”

“No, go on”

“Snitch Sheila…No…well I give up”

He had to know, so he tried again,”I think mom, it only fair that you prove that I did it,”

“well” sighed his mom, “You confessed on the first whack, but the too clean a kitchen and hall, and lingering fragrance of Vanilla, they were the clues my son, You should have opened the window the smell would have diluted.”

Well with a super-sleuth for a mom, it’s done and dusted it is done and busted!!

This post is a part of Write Over the Weekend, an initiative for Indian Bloggers by BlogAdda.

Chill and Heal

This year I am “Indi-spired “ to increase my vocabulary as much as possible, so I looked up the  dictionary for the meaning of vacation. We’ll look at it along the way.

Once upon a time Vacation began on April 11th and would be over on May 22nd.it fixed, and Bhima-ajja my grandfather’s brother would come home riding on the Java motorcycle he owned and we would zoom down the dread perampalli forest, ambagilu, over the Kalyanpur river, and turn right into Kolagiri to Belmaar, where all of us would collect, and vacation meant sugarcane fields (mouth ulcers due to over eating of sugarcane), mangoes off the tree (a challenged intestine due to over-eating again) cashew apples, and sore throat due to binging. Vacation meant stories from Kittadoddamma and Padmavati-amma. Jaggery coffee with Melmatta ajja, We would walk distances of 7 -10 kilometers, without bothering about the heat, while today I cannot think of stepping out without my two-wheeler.

We would move from one cousins house to the other, entire battalion  of cousins,  it was a peak into the adult world that was shut to us during  school.  The politics of  Jayanthi who came to milk the cows, the romance of kitta and lakki who tended to the sheep and worked as farm hands. The proposed alliance between Mala aunty and the third son of Neelavara Udupa so things went on.  there were weddings to attend, and Jatre to go to, night long Yakshagana it was a respite.

The rest of the cousins had absolute freedom, while my mother would insist on holiday homework of one page each of English, Kannada and Hindi copy writing and revision of maths exercise of the year gone and tables one each written five times. Of course we did learn how to bend these rules, yet we did finish the homework.

October holidays were shorter 3rd October to 28th October we visited some out of state relative or went for a conference with dad, that meant we got to see new places and meet a different set of people. That was fun in its own way.

By the time we reached college vacation took a different meaning, though it still meant travelling like true Indians we went to places where we could avail home hospitality and catch up with cousins our peer group. These were the days before summer camps and holiday “personality building” and “talent grooming”. We really relaxed, recuperated, and were rejuvenated.  When we returned to school we were thoroughly bored out by the fag end of the vacation and were rearing to meet our friends and plan new horrendous activities to harass the teachers.

With motherhood vacation came to mean  intermission and respite or time of respite from something, like the morning rush of packing two lunch boxes before 7.15 am, rushing to pick thick the kids from school, dropping them to classes, handing the cooking, laundry, tidying, dusting, de-cluttering, and my clinic  I would just drop the kids at my mother’s place. While I interacted with other kids, as resource person for various workshops. that was my vacation time.

Since I seem to reporting instead of storytelling or narrating, its time I vacate this slot, that is leave this space until the storyteller returns… the last meaning of vacation in Merriam-Webster the act of vacating.

On Siblings

Siblings are people born to the same parents.

I remember my mother talking of two of her cousins, when they were young they would for every be playing chor-police and then it would end in a fight Dewar style, my mother’s irate aunt yelled can’t you do role play about brothers, the boys immediately obeyed and decided to play Vali- Sugriva.  It is kind of sometimes you love them sometimes you hate them scenario.

The intricate tangle of love, duty and resentment that ties the siblings’ together is amazing. The glances exchanged the complicated balance these were having established over decades. The rules of the game played are something that someone who does not belong to sibling circle may find it kind of difficult to understand.  Maybe that is the key, I mean this is a natural group it makes others feel remarkably singular in comparison. Over twenty years now has shifted out of the country and we have drifted, when I see other siblings it brings home the I’m missing.

Yes he does drop in once in every two years, but between visiting his in-laws, the numerous puja’s sight-seeing and shopping on his side and my work and family commitments on my side it we probably meet for half a day.

I hear this very commonly expressed and rather romantic notion of “Rakhi-brother/sister” let’s get real; the fact is we might be better served to accept that we are all siblings. After all siblings fight pulls each other’s hair, steal stuff and accuse each other indiscriminately. But siblings do know the undeniable fact that they are the same blood, with same origins and are family, even when they hate each other that put a lot of things into perspective.

Probably just as famous as the sibling bonding is the it’s sibling the sibling rivalry happens due to the toxicity created by parents comparing one sibling unfavourably with another, the target child feels he’s not doing enough to gain parental affection. This motivates the child to do whatever the parents want to regain their favour, this divide and conquer technique is often unleashed against children who become a little too independent threatening the balance of the family system.

Despite rivalry most siblings have this acceptance…he/she is my sibling…my blood, she/he annoys the hell out of me, most of the time but when it comes right down to it I want see him/her graduate from college and have a little annoying mini-Ram’s and mini-Seeta’s running around in the future. When I look at my mother and her siblings I realize that sibling relationships outlast marriages, survive the death of parents, resurface after quarrels that would sink any friendship, they flourish in a thousand incarnations of closeness and distance, warmth, loyalty and distrust.

Certainly people do get along without siblings, single children do and there are people who irreparably with their siblings who live full and satisfying lives, yet to have siblings and not make the most of that resource is squandering one the greatest interpersonal resources one could ever have. Between you and me siblings that say they never fight well, are definitely hiding something.

“We Love, We Fight!
We feel Proud, We envy!
We Support, We Differ!
But whenever someone else tries to talk against anyone, we are always together.
And whenever we have any reason to celebrate, we are together.
Yes, we are siblings!”
― Pankaj Gupta

 

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