mind – Adulting Without Manuals

Mum’s The Problem.

All of us know the impact our parents have on us. More often than not, their needs become our needs, their insecurities become our insecurities and their baggage becomes our baggage. In this whirlwind of emotions, it is easy to forget that parents themselves have learned these behaviors and are empathic human beings who may be willing to unlearn it for the sake of their children.

kidsaregifts

Recently I have met a Professor of Psychotherapy, a Consultant Psychiatrist and a GP – all parents of children lost to mental illnesses. Here’s what one mum says:

“Whenever I have seen a therapist, they have gone straight to my childhood, my up-bringing, my parents and their parents. All my behaviours and feelings seem to be explained and understood based on their behaviours, however ‘normal’, for their times. I am encouraged to think of all the ways in which they could have directly or indirectly damaged me.

By that principle, all of my child’s behaviours and feelings should be explained and understood based on the behaviours of his parents. Half of them is me. I agree. I must be part of the problem. My profession is perceived as a bigger problem. ‘High achieving Asian’ parents are assumed to put a lot of pressure on their children. So much so, the…

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What Does It Mean To Be A Wannabe?

I don’t know how many of you really remember what it was like to be in high school, but I’m sure most of you can relate to this: Remember the times in school when kids used to want to be a part of the popular group? I bet the popular kids themselves had their own insecurities to deal with. Now that I sit back and think of it, I’m realizing how influenced we were by our self-image and the labels that were attributed to us. I remember being different labels at different points in time. I believe I transitioned between the loner, the nerd, the sweet kid, the popular one, the distant one, the friendly/charming, all at different times. And I’m comfortable with all of them; Because, of course, I felt like that at different points in time. There were kids that were popular- kids that I liked very much because, irrespective of the status quo, they were nice people! I remember not caring as much about wanting to be a part of the label- I had issues of my own. Depression and anxiety are exhausting to deal with! But I remember struggles around the same issues of self-esteem while I yearned for a sense of acceptance and belonging as well.

Adolescence is the time children need the most amount of validation in their life. They are most vulnerable, everything’s changing, that their need for acceptance is the highest at this point. I remember destructive labels such as ‘desperate’, ‘wannabe’, ‘lame’, ‘easy’, ‘slutty’, ‘bitchy’, ‘creepy’, ‘needy’ being used to describe people. I kinda feel bad for being a part of it 😬 Anyhow! Those days are long gone behind us! We are all mature adults now. Right? Or, are we? 😅 As I and my roommate got into a spirited discussion about what being a wannabe means, we uncovered a very amusing trail of thoughts! Her point of view was: “But everybody is a wanna be right?”
“Wut?!” I blinked confused. This woman clearly had no concept of what a wannabe was or what it meant to be called one.
“Dude! A WANNABE is Someone who wants to be something they are not. Like they try to act famous when they’re not or they try to be cool when they’re not.”
Then she says:
“But nobody’s famous until they are. And how do you know they are not cool? In their minds they are! So how can you be the judge of that?!”
I blinked some more. This was getting ridiculous.
“Dude… You’re not getting it!! A wannabe is someone who does something because it is trendy. They are only into it because it is popular. They don’t know anything or know very little, about what the trend is. At the same time, they will talk a big game and make it sound like they know what they are talking about. That’s lame right?”

She casts me an annoyed look as if wondering why I’m this shallow while I frantically rammed my brains to understand what I was getting wrong. Then she slowly says “Dude. Everybody’s a wannabe, right? You may think that that person has no fashion sense, but in their mind, they’re doing their best to learn about makeup and explore their own style, and there’s no rule against that. Is there? And that kid who’s trying to be a social media influencer- maybe at this point he doesn’t seem to be gaining publicity, but he has his own ideas and innovation. How can you propagate individualism and creativity when you cannot accept that fact that there are going to be people better than you or worse than you at the task that you are trying to achieve. And till the time that you don’t achieve it – that title, position, career break, whatever – you will be a wannabe, right? A wannabe athlete, a wannabe model, a wannabe film star, a wannabe artist. You’re also a wannabe writer, aren’t you?”

I stared at her open-mouthed as words refused to escape my wannabe face.

So I slowly clapped at her instead!

I Think I Want To Be A Therapist

I think I want to be a therapist. Because:

I want to work with people, but in a way that I feel involved with their lives.

I want to have a personal relationship with my clients.

I want to work with them in a way that touches their lives.

I remember when I was a really small kid, one of my aunts(Bebo Mausi) got diagnosed with schizophrenia. I had gone to Delhi for my internship and was staying with my aunt and uncle for the summer. They dropped me off at my relatives as they were going out of town for the weekend. Bebo Mausi was visiting these relatives at the time. I had seen a lot of her when I was younger, and I remember what she was like before she got diagnosed. I was excited to see her and the others but I didn’t really know how to be around her. As we approached the house and kept ringing at the doorbell, we felt annoyed that no one was opening the door. After a couple of knocks, I see Bebo Mausi opening the wooden door on the inside but she wouldn’t open the front door. She kept peeking at us horrified. “Hi Mausi!” I said. “Kaise Ho?” (How are you? In Hindi). “Kaun hai?!” (Who is it?) she says. I look at her amused. She knows me. She’s met me. MULTIPLE times! I say “Shruti!”, she says “Chale jao! Mujhe nahi pata!” (“I don’t know you! Just leave.”)

Now, this was getting ridiculous. After a decade of playing Uno and chit chat, that is NOT the way to treat someone “Are Kya hua! Darwaza Kholo Na!” (What happened? Open the door!). “Nahi! woh log mujhe chor ke chale jaye. Tum jao. Mujhe nahi kholna.” (I don’t want to open the door! They left me alone. Please leave!) Again, I looked a her annoyed at the absurdness. I hung around some more but my uncle had to leave. “Usko bolo jane ko!”(Ask him to leave) she kept yelling at him- which I found really rude and annoying because she’s known him practically all her life! “I think I should go,” sweet uncle says. “It’s okay, I’ll be fine” I reassured him.

Apparently, my relatives had to head out for a family event and had left my aunt behind because she gets angsty around a lot of people. As I hung around, kicked at my suitcase and hummed songs, waiting for my relatives to come back and let me in, dear aunt and I got to chatting. It was funny to talk through the netted outer door to her, but I thought it was kinda fun. I started asking her what she was up to and she told me she had been watching her favorite series and making some coffee when the lights tripped temporarily. Now, given her condition, worry for us is full-blown paranoia for her. She was alone and scared and panicked really bad. She tried calling them multiple times but as they were in a function, they did not hear her frantic cries. She was thus really scared and annoyed and couldn’t bear to let anyone in. In that moment of manic, it was hard for her to recognize people and think. I melted slowly inside.

“What other series do you like?” I asked. She named a string of Hindi series that I had no idea about but I smiled and laughed at her descriptions and kept egging her on to talk about things she likes anyway. After a couple of minutes, she says, “you must be hungry right??”. “I kind of am…” I say. “Do you want to come in? I can make you a sandwich.” “Only if you’re okay with that! I would love to eat some sandwich”. She opens the door to let me in as I strut towards the living room with my luggage. She makes a dash to the kitchen, prepares a really nice cheese and vegetable sandwich and makes some of her famous coffee as well! We sit down at the dining table and chat like we used to while I eat. I smile at her fondly as she animatedly tells me about her life, wishing that she wouldn’t have to live with moments of terror and pain like she did. Even though so much has changed, I still love her I guess. She’s my aunt! You know? ❤ And she’s a wonderful person!

Two days later, when my uncle came to pick me up, he asked me how I’d managed to get in that day. Impressed, he says “you’re really good at this. you should do this for a living”. “Be a therapist?” I smirk, amused. “Think of all the people you’d help,” he says. I breathe slowly, wondering how I seem to be talented at everything apart from my engineering degree ALthough, I have been in therapy for almost three years now, in the past few months I’ve experienced some shifts that have felt truly powerful. And for that, I’m grateful. It’s like a change in my lense, and now I can see better! 🙂 Having had some immensely vulnerable sessions with my therapist, I have been grateful to experience the growth I did. People think you need to be ill to go to therapy. Cliche as it sounds, do you need to fall ill to go to the gym? No, right? They why wait for your emotional muscles to wither and strain before you decide that its time to take care of yourself? The mind and body are connected, more than we’d like to admit. In fact, emotional pain often hurts much more than physical pain. It’s a fact! Your psychological health alters your brain chemistry, which in turn is bound to impact your energy levels, sleep cycle, temperament, and much more.

It’s so sad to see that something so basic as emotional hygiene is not taught to us in school. We can learn integral and differential calculus, but nobody wants to help us to understand our emotions better. They’re there for a reason so that they can guide you towards being true to yourself. Dismissing them or suppressing them does not help. It only makes matters worse. In today’s day and age, there are so many engineers, doctors, writers, artists. But not enough mental health professionals. It makes me sad sometimes. The power of therapy is phenomenal. The healing power of our minds is commendable. Trust me, I know. I’m one of those people who was blessed with guidance and help at the right time. I love working on myself. I’m obsessed with it. My therapist calls me a ‘good student’, cause I study and make notes and hang on to every word of professional advice she shares. It has changed my life entirely. I feel a sense of health and vitality that I haven’t in years. And often in the light of day, when I’m writing or working on a mental health workbook or trying to convince a friend to go to therapy, I quietly wonder to my self: Could this really be my ‘calling’?

Who knows ¯\_(ツ)_/¯

We’ll find out I guess. All ‘I’ know is…

Hotel Mumbai

I did not plan on writing this post. I’m not going to edit it. I’m not going to design it. I’m going to write because I need to- I’d hate myself if I didn’t. This is not a movie review. I do not write movie reviews. Please don’t read the post if you haven’t seen the movie as it may have spoilers. I’m writing this post because I need to get it out of my system. I’m mourning and I feel a wave of word vomit I can not control.

Almost ten years ago on the remorseful fay of 26/11 Mumbai was subject to a brutal terrorist attack that took a jab at all of our hearts in a way that still hurts. As the survivors and loved ones of the demised mourne and heal from their losses, it still feels like yesterday, what happened a decade ago. Watching the attacks reported live on television was one of the most horrific things I had experienced. Have spent a large part of my childhood in Mumbai, I remembered the busy city for its life and vibrance. Watching it subject to such assault was a painful experience. I exhale slowly as I remember it. My parents spent a large part of their life in Mumbai. We moved out when I was in middle school but still have close friends and family there that we visit yearly. I remember wondering when the CST station was bombed if my creche aunty was there. I was relieved to know that she wasn’t. My childhood friend – Nikita Dabale, who I’ve known my entire life- from the time we learned to walk and ran around in pampers, still lived in Mumbai for years after. Although Santacruz was not targetted, at the time the blasts were happening, nobody knew where the next target was going to be. I was so relieved to know that she was fine. People called their friends and family for assurance.

The movie Hotel Mumbai did a stunning job of showcasing the traumatically gripping events that occurred in the bombings. They concentrated on the three out of twelve coordinated shootings that happened across Mumbai which showed a series of interlinked events. They started with the CST bombing, onto Leopold Cafe and then Taj.

The scene where people rush from the station and cafe into Taj, beating at its doors and begging for entry was the start of a scared shudder. The hotel staff heroically let the people in to protect them and as the shootings proceed the staff tried to call all the guests to warn them to stay in their rooms. I thought this was a very important part to show how devoted the staff felt towards their guests. Since Taj is one of the most exorbitant hotels in India, a vast majority of guests were larger than life public figures, businessmen and international clients.

As the day proceeded, the terrorists moved from floor to floor, luring out guests and brutally mutilating them in the name of vengeance as the staff tried to sneak as many people out as they could. The scene where Anupam Kher, a famous Bollywood actor who plays head chef of the hotel in the movie, collects his staff and informs them of the security concerns, extending them the empathy of staying to help the guests or leave if they wanted instead was a very dignified way of showing compassion and vulnerability in the face of danger. The painful story of the Indian-American family who gets

separated because of the painful events also got the audience teary-eyed. Armand Douglas Hammer, an American actor who played a lead role alongside British-Iranian actress Nazanin Boniadi in this Indian-American pair stole hearts with his piercing blue eyes and passionate valor towards protecting his family. In the entire movie, he and his wife try to work their way out of the hotel with their friend who does her best to protect their baby boy Cameron. The scene where he gets shot right in front of Nazanin while she is screaming traumatically only to look at the shooter in the eye and recite prayers over his lifeless body was the most intense scene in the movie.

This scene with Nazanin and her husband’s shooter was particularly important because: Throughout the movie, they show the terrorist attack being planned by a group which sought vengeance in the name of religion. At this point when the shooter comes face to face with Nazanin, who is Indian and also Muslim, he is conflicted about whether he should shoot her not. In his fight for his religion, the terrorist does not find it in his conscience to shoot her as it would feel like a sin. But his mentor, the lead terrorist who has brainwashed the entire troop to believe that this attack has an ulterior holy motive, tries to coax him into shooting her because she is an abomination. In this moral conflict, the terrorist decides to listen to his inner conscience and leaves her alive; showing that he is only human. Another powerful scene when one of the terrorists calls his father in the midst of the bombing attacks to tell his family that he loves them and hopes that they have received the money the ‘lead terrorist’ has promised them shows that at the end of the day, they were the very flawed and misguided boys they were shown to be; They were brainwashed into going to unspeakable lengths for their religion and to provide for their families.

The courage exhibited by the hotel staff that stayed back to help the guests spoke volumes about the bravery and dedication these people had. Both central characters Anupam Kher and Dev Patel played a crucial role in helping the hostages out of the hotel. Anupam Kher is the head chef of the hotel and ensured safe refuge for the guests in the secret harbor. He sported nerves of steel in the face of mass hysteria and panic and consistently strived to keep the guests safe and protected from the attackers. He did so by taking them to a secret chamber and keeping their location hidden. Dev Patel, on the other hand, played a crucial role in supporting Anupam Kher by being his steady right hand through the crisis. He put his neck on the line to save injured victims and guide stranded hostages to the safe haven of the chambers. His devotion to the safety of the guests helped pacify the hostages and contain the panic. The sentiment with which he was ready to put his life on the line for his country and people really spoke volumes to the songs of Sikh valor we have heard about. It takes pure passion and patriotism to perform a feat so heroic.

As the movie went on through the second half I found myself covering my face to stop my self from gasping at the apathy within the shootings. I dug my nails into the back of my neck as I felt my self overwhelm and panic at the turn of events so that I don’t let out a terrified scream. As the climax comes around where they gather the hostages into one room I find my self slowing praying ‘Allah rehem’ (Lord have mercy) under my breath (which is odd because I’m agnostic and I’m not Muslim). I broke down sobbing into my friend’s mother’s arms as the hostages were shot down one by one and couldn’t contain myself from the trauma of the events that occurred until the credits rolled in.

I’ve Got Your Back

Let’s talk about Brocode. Bromance. Broism. Bromide? I don’t know! All of the above. Except for Bromide.
I failed Chemistry 😀

We all know the famous brocode that is honored among bros. These are the obvious rules or guidelines among bros that are religiously followed in order to show loyalty to the pact.

Examples:

#1 Sisters are off limits
#2 Exes are off limits
#3 If a guy is chasing a girl, let him have her
#4 Do not in any way, be that guy
#5 You always watch the game
Etcetera…

We often see guys follow these particular guidelines and stick by their bros no matter what. Women are often put in this mold of stereotype, where they are expected to backstab and claw at each other.

While this is far from the truth, stories of sisterhood support are like urban myths right now. Nobody is ready to believe that women can be there for other women, irrespective of caste, age, religion, and culture.

Allow me to share with you a story from my sisterhood band:

I had a very sweet and naive roommate, who used to try to look at the best in people. She had just moved out of her home and had lived

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in the protective shell of her parents her whole life. There were two gentlemen whose company she frequented. One very loud and obnoxious and the other of the creepy sorts. I tried to politely imply that they may not be the best kind of company. But starry-eyed with her new found freedom, lovely roommate did not heed to my warnings. Summer came, summer went and she was still the best of pals with them. “Maybe they’re not so bad!” I thought. So the next time we hosted a dinner party for Diwali, I suggested that she call them along with our mutual friends.

Lots of food and games and laughter was what that evening entailed. Lovely roommate was forever engrossed in her conversation with friends ‘loud and obnoxious’ and ‘creepy creeperson’. She seemed Happy! And I felt a little guilt for having judged them so harshly. By the end of the evening, I felt quite elated to have found a set of people who felt like friends in a new strange city.

But alas! My friendly musings were short lived. We all gathered together to take a group photo that marked the end of the night. Squashed between lovely roommate and her creepy friend, I tried my best to plaster a smile for the group photograph. As we huddled together, I felt a hand wrap around my waist in a very inappropriate and uncomfortable fashion. Creepy creeperson here was trying to cross a line! Flustered, I tried to nudge him away but he kept trying to hold on. Angry, I elbow jerked him into moving away and marched over to the kitchen with my roommate while he yelped in pain. I animatedly told her everything that happened. She was aghast.

My roommate told another roommate who told another roommate who told a friend. Within 5 minutes the girl squad was ready to throw this pesky beast out of the house. We pushed him out into the cold to figure his way back home and barked behind him to never return again! Teary-eyed, lovely roommate apologized for her friend’s behavior as she felt responsible. We hugged it out, and from there on she always made it a point to protect me from such leeches, even though she didn’t have to 😂

Thank you lovely roommate for having my back 🙂
The sisterhood still survives…

I thought long and hard about how I could best define sisterhood. A conversation with a fellow sister brought clarity to what sisterhood means for me. Sisterhood to me means belonging to a pact where you feel understood and cared for. Having a free space – where you can be yourself and you know you’re not being judged. Having someone to come back to after a tired day in the cold, and find something nice and warm cooked for you. Having the security that this person understands when you feel vulnerable and is ready to help you through tough times. Having the assurity that you can go out in that dress you were so shy to wear for so long. Knowing that your sisters will have your back, encouraging you with nods and smiles through the evening. And when the dress backfires, they’ll be with you in the washroom, brushing your hair and redoing your make up to make sure you look good. Having someone be kind to you when its ‘that’ time of the month and say “Hey, it’s okay, why don’t you lie down and I’ll make you hot chocolate!”

It could be a bond between sisters or a group of close friends. It could be a close relationship between a mother and her daughter or a niece with her aunt. It could be a teacher and a student or two neighbors who feel a connection.

A sisterhood bond is not superficial. It’s not parties and makeup and gossip like most people think. Strong sisterhoods are forged from years of togetherness where you feel seen, heard, understood. Where your principles valued and your aspirations adorned. We talk about things that matter and take a stand for each other.

Sure, we don’t have a book of sisterhood rules. That’s because there is only one rule:

Come what may, you have to have your sister’s back!

This one is dedicated to all my sisters.

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Boggarts are Buggers

I’m so excited! We had a very interesting defense against the dark arts class today, and once I left I just knew I had to write about it! We have a new teacher called Professor Lupin this year. Honestly, I’m kind of relieved that maniac Lockhart’s out of the picture. I really hope the new guy is better. It’s weird as it is that he’s rumored to be a werewolf, which I think is a tad bit ridiculous. I mean, what’s next? “Vampires”? The “Loch Ness monster”? Silly, I tell you. I bet he’s any day better than that self-absorbed scamming bimbo. It’s kind of sad how things ended for with him the basilisc though.

Anyway, so we were in class with Prof. Lupin who was standing next to what looked like a wardrobe that was wobbling! It was all very confusing because It looked more like he had a giant rat locked in that trunk. Finally, he told us what it was. A boggart, it seems! They’re supposed to be shapeshifters that take up the shape of whatever it thinks would frighten us the most. He said that in the darkness it does not assume a form, but when let out he would immediately become what each of us fears most. The idea was to confront this boggart and Prof. Lupin lined us up and asked us to come forward one by one.

Neville went first. The poor thing was trembling to pieces! When asked, what his worst fear was Neville admits it’s PRofessor-Boggart-Snape Professor Snape. Lupin asks him to picture his grandmother’s clothes, and when he faces the boggart, to picture Snape in them. Neville does so, and Snape appears in a vulture-topped hat with a red handbag and a lace-trimmed dress. the entire class burst out in howls and laughter! Ron went next, and suddenly the boggart turned into a huge spider that could touch the roof! My gosh, It was so scary, but thank god Ron didn’t freeze like he always does. He cast the spell and the spider was slipping on rollerblades. It was the funniest thing! I knew my turn was next and honestly, I didn’t want to go, cause I didn’t want to know what it would turn into, but I went anyway.

It’s hard to know what it feels like until you’re faced with your worst fears. The minute the boggart was leashed on me, it kept changing shape – turning from one loved one to another. Each person saying the most brutally painful things to me such as –

“I’m only putting up with you because I have to”,
“You’re going to lose control of your life, and there’s nothing you can do about it”,
“Don’t kid yourself, you’ll never get out of this”,
“It’s just a matter of time. Everyone you care about will find out you’re not good enough”, “You know they don’t really care about you right?”

It was a chilling experience like no other. Being gripped by an insidious voice that crept up inside my head… and there was nothing I could do about it. I stood there paralyzed by fear and anxiety when the panic spirals began. I could just not stop thinking of all the horrific things that could happen with people that I cared for. They could abandon me, turn against me or worst of all, they could just die and I would lose them forever! Or maybe I would die because I can’t bear the thought of losing them! Who knows what my mind was construing when it was busy twisting my reality into a fictitious nightmare that was never going to happen.

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Anyway, all this death and destruction really got to me. I felt like I couldn’t breathe and if I didn’t do something about it I’d lose my mind. A calmer voice in the back of my mind said “It’s okay. It’s just anxiety. That’s the nature of it! It’ll twist things around and try to scare you but don’t be frightened of it. None of these things are actually happening, it’s just your mind playing tricks on you. I whistled slowly and tried to think of something funny. I imagined all the people the boggart kept turning into popped in a Ton-Tongue Toffee (a rainbow-colored sweet invented by Fred and George) which made their tongues the size of slugs! As I yelled the spell and the shape-shifting boggart had turned into Hermione and was hiccupping with an oversized tongue hanging out of its mouth! The whole class started laughing at a mad Hermione, who seemed like she was trying to yell but obviously couldn’t, and then Lupin laughed and asked the next person to come forward.

Humor can be a powerful tool to change perspective and let go of toxic ways of thinking. I’ve been keeping that one close to me! Every now and then my real life boggarts creep up on me in the most unexpected ways, agonizing me and twisting things around. But as you know, I shall not be fooled no more!

So to them, I quietly smile and say…

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Note: I remembered my aunt talk about anxiety and how it was a learned thing. It could be a critical parent, a strict teacher, an intimidating sibling or a toxic friend – we all rub off on each other much more than we realize. But like any other skill that can be learned and unlearned, anxiety can be unlearned as well. Through meditation, therapy, exercise and/or medication, you can challenge your toxic thought patterns and change them to a healthier way of thinking.

Declutter

This is a very amateur attempt at trying to answer this particular question I saw on Quora, and in all probability is utter rubbish, but I’m still going to try.

Declutter your mind:

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I had a very random and unexpected moment of realization on the way back home today. I was taking an auto back to my place. Now, there are two routes to get to my block. The first is the main road, which is my preferred route simply because it has lesser traffic and people in general, while the second is a shorter one because it follows the inner lanes but tends to get jammed often.

I was perfectly aware of the possible nuisance the shorter route could cause, and since I am a person of negligible patience, I would usually stick to the main road… But today I was slightly distracted with a call and I absolutely forgot to tell the autowala to continue on the usual route. The resultant of this absentmindedness was that he took a right instead, thinking that he would take the shorter route and we would reach faster, which in turn resulted in him driving right into the hurly-burly of that lane. And at that point, amidst all the chaos and a throbbing nerve, did I realize that this is exactly what MY state of mind mostly feels like! :’D

Our minds are in such a constant state of unrest with everything that’s going on that we don’t even realize the amount of traffic all those thoughts are causing; I’m not even sure if I can call it a train of thoughts, because at least a train has a certain order and sequence about it..This just felt like a death race between trashy cars! Most of it was just noise! Other people’s noise! Noise that you don’t even need, and would gladly do without. Only when you declutter your mind and reduce the traffic will you finally have the whole lane to yourself. Only then will you really be able to sit back, listen to the music (Your thoughts, your emotions, your ambitions, and your motivations) and only then will you really be able to enjoy the ride!

Apologies for only listing out one, but if and when you do get the time and patience to ponder over this answer is when you will likely realize that this particular ability is most possibly of paramount importance.

To view the rest of the answers to this question, please navigate to:

https://www.quora.com/What-are-2-things-I-can-start-doing-today-to-be-happier-in-life