#NaBloPoMo Day 30 - And the challenge ends!

The 30 day blogging challenge comes to an end today. After 27 posts in 27 days, I skipped the last 2 days due to travel. So did I miss the perfect 30 day streak at the fag end of the challenge? I don't think so. 27 posts in as many days has been great enough for me. Sure, I could have done the perfect 30 but perfect is so boring. Who's interested in perfect! It's the I-just-missed-it-and-yet-I-am-happy stories that are human. It's the vulnerable that we connect to. It's the imperfect that makes us feel better about our foibles and weaknesses.

Also, I think it's fun to break rules sometimes. It's liberating to take on a 30 day and do the unexpected - not do the perfect 30. I kept for all these days - through insanely busy days and pretty tiring nights. But if I tried to do it just to make a perfect 30, it wouldn't be me. I knew I couldn't have blogged during the weekend because of logistical issues and so I let go. It's great to take up a challenge. But it's also important to be able to let go. To not make things matter so much to us that we lose perspective. So what it's worth for, I thoroughly enjoyed the blogging challenge. This is definitely going as an achievement in my writing life. Stay tuned for the wonderful things doing this challenge has taught me - coming up soon.

I'd like to thank everyone who inspired me to write, left comments on my blog, shared my posts on social media and made this enjoyable journey even more delightful! Thank You!

(Btw, I am writing on a train from Delhi to Mumbai with limited connectivity. But I had to write this post and express my love for this wonderful blogging month of my life)

#NaBloPoMo Day 27 - What is your passion?

For the post today, I decided to borrow one of the daily challenge prompts - Do you think it's better to be a recognized expert for one thing, or known to be really good at lots of things? I think being an expert in one thing is important. You may know a lot of other things or have other interests. But there should be one thing that defines you because you are the expert in it. Here's why:

Expertise in one area, for me, is connected to your passion. It could be anything. A sport, movies, music, academia. A lot of us have a profession but our passion lies elsewhere. We are really good at something that's a hobby. And so we know pretty much everything that is there to know about it. If your passion is your profession, you hit jackpot in life. So, I feel it is important to be passionate about at least one thing in life. Knowing that passion gives a lot of energy to keep going in life.

It is important to have one thing you want to be known for. Practically speaking, you need to prove your expertise in one thing to be able to get a job or promote yourself for. If you can do a lot of things well, it is great but might get confusing beyond a point. There has to be one thing that you can do the best. And the other things become transferable skills which bolster your passion.

Being the best in one thing also adds to credibility. I could pursue a lot of hobbies - sing, dance, read, write and play an instrument. But I wouldn't be able to do well in all of them at the same time. There will be one thing I am better at and also love doing. Focus on one (or two at the most) will help me have a command over the skill/subject giving me confidence and credibility in the eyes of others.

What do you think? Have you had many interests which you have pursued successfully? Or you, like me, believe that expertise in one thing is important? Share your thoughts and I'd love to hear them.

#NaBloPoMo Day 26: Are we safe?

No, this is not another post paying tribute to people who gave up their lives during the terrorist attacks. I am too small to do that. Neither is this an indignant backlash about how irresponsible the govt is. When I think of the attacks, the first thing that comes to my mind was the initial shock. And the lingering feeling of insecurity after everything was over.

I was at home and I got a message from a friend which said there was firing in CST and it wasn't a good idea to venture out. I messaged a few of my other acquaintances who might be on their way back from office. I was just a year old in Mumbai and wasn't familiar with the places or the implications of it. I told my spouse, who was at home, and we sat glued to the TV late into the night. For the next 3 days, we'd tear ourselves away from the news at 2.30 am and rush back in front of it by 8am. It was shocking to see every morning that it had not ended yet. The casualties were many, it was definitely a black letter day in our history. And it also showed we have people who laid down their lives for their country and the staff of Taj did it for the guests!! We know the rest of the story.

For days after that, every time I stepped out of the house, the only thought that came to my mind was anyone could jump out of corners and start shooting at us. That's what happened at Leopold, at CST, at Taj. There was no safety anymore. There was no guarantee that people who stepped out would come back home safe. Walking through CST after the attacks felt strange. I looked at the platforms and thought this is the very place where a normal day like this turned ugly. Defenceless people just shot dead! It was hard for a long time to go to Marine Drive and not think of what happened there. The recent Paris attacks have fanned this feeling further. People just ventured out to watch a concert and little did they know that they'd encounter something like this!

Terror has no face anymore. It's hard to say who the next victims are going to be. And like I said yesterday, I am not a political commentator and have no authority to analyse who's fault it is or what could be done to make things better. Blame game doesn't help either. When high profile places like Taj become the targets of attack, we know that the enemy is quite powerful. And the danger looms large, still.

The question that comes to my mind now is, after so many years, the feeling of danger has faded but are we safe? Yet? Aren't we still as prone to step out one evening and probably never come back? Or never see our loves ones again? I know this sounds really morbid but remains a fact. Is there something that we can do to make this world a better place? To promise to our future generation that they'll have peace and love instead of blood and gore? Any answers? Anyone?

#NaBloPoMo Day 25 - Are we intolerant?

Going by the debates on social media for the last few weeks, it seems so! But aren't we against Aamir Khan because we think we are tolerant? So, are we tolerant? This is so confusing! I'll need to take this argument apart to make sense of it.

I am not a political or social commentator, I don't follow the news and do not want to read up on every controversy. And no, I am not going to run you through the whole Aamir Khan episode again. But using the word 'intolerant' even in the right context makes me conscious. The word has been used a million times in the recent past that it seems to have acquired a different meaning altogether.

According to Google, intolerance means:

unwillingness to accept views, beliefs, or behaviour that differ from one's own.

Let's look at a few things in the light of this definition. Please bear with me since my memory isn't very sharp either. I remember writing an article in college about the furore over the film, Fire - the first Indian film to portray lesbian love. The theatres screening it were attacked and all shows were stopped. The debate was something about this being against Indian culture. The film wasn't filmed anymore due to these protests. This means we Are intolerant.

Another wave of protest that I remember was Shiv Sainiks bashing up couples on Valentine's Day. The argument here also was that such festivals were not a part of our culture. Later, the improvised threat was that if any people of the male and female species were found together on 14th February, they would be forced to tie Rakhi. I don't know if this was actually enforced. But all people were doing was to just sit down by the sea or amidst nature in a park for a peaceful chat. This means we Are intolerant.

Pardon my lapse in memory when I jump to recent times. Pornography was banned for about a month or so. 50 Shades of Grey never got released in India, thanks to the censor board. You can't see kissing onscreen. Or hear the cuss words in films anymore. Not just that, that state decides what you are permitted to eat. Beef and Maggi are out of the menu. (Maggi, after political motives were fulfilled, has been allowed to make a come back). This means we Are intolerant.

Our morality is protected. Our health and nutrition in monitored. Now, watch out for what you say. Oh! But this time it's not the government. The people of this country have learnt to sit in judgement of other people. We decide whether what someone said was in tune with our beliefs or not. And if it wasn't, how dare someone say it? Only we have the right to lash out at people and make an issue where none existed to begin with. Only we have the freedom of speech. And only we can use it. Criticism is unwelcome. And arguments won't be tolerated. Just stick to cliches about the country and you are good. You cannot feel or perceive on your own. Let alone talk about it. Even if it is about your own country which is as much yours as the next person on the street. This means we Are intolerant.

If we go back to the definition on top, I think we are highly intolerant of what we feel people should not feel. As a woman, if I feel unsafe on the streets of this country, I should be able to say it. That's how I feel and perceive my country's safety standards. Someone else cannot tell me what I should feel. And if I am not allowed to do that, this means we Are intolerant.

But then what's wrong when Aamir Khan said it. Our reaction to his statement proved him right.

#NaBloPoMo Day 24 - 6-word stories

I recently attended a writing workshop by Blogadda as part of Social Media Week, Mumbai. The session was in one of the classrooms of Indian School of Design and Innovation (ISDI). And after the session, I noticed one corner of a wall that had 6 word stories posted by students of some course. I took pictures of some of the interesting ones. (Most were too high up the wall to take pictures). It also interested me as a concept because we did an activity around this in our session. We had to introduce our partners in just 6 words. I have never participated in flash fiction activities which involve writing stories in 6 words. But I think I am going to try doing that now.

Have you tried to write 6 word stories? Or express what you want to say in just as many words? Go on and try writing some thoughts in just 6 words. Share them in your comments and let's get this started.

#NaBloPoMo Day 23: Can I confess?

I am scared. Shit scared at times. Life feels like an empty zone where I can't make sense of anything. The future seems dark. What did I do wrong I wonder. But then I think the world changed too. And too rapidly at that. Garbled thoughts whirring through the dull ache in my head. (Yes, these frequent, dull headaches. Stress? lack of sleep? Tumour in my brain? I should find out soon). It's like nothing I know or did all these years matters anymore. I am suddenly thrown into this alien, fast paced world that I can’t seem to make sense of most of the times. I think it's the difficulty in relating to the world around me. The change is so rapid. The rate of new information rapid. I schedule my tweets to stay in the race. I revamped my Feedly thrice to make the content relevant. I have 13 years of professional experience. But kids a decade younger are challenging the beliefs I have held all my life. And they are succeeding, aren't they. They are born in this world. They can move at break neck speeds. I am just thrown into this world because there isn't any other. The feeling deepens as I sit with a 24 yr old revamp my modules for me by making them more appealing. Just information isn't enough, he says, people want to have fun. In training programs which will give them important life skills, I ask? This is how things work now, he says. I feel old sometimes because these youngsters have better ideas and so attuned to today’s world. I decide to jump into the bandwagon hoping it will make sense soon. I am smart and intelligent and educated. How hard can it be? These kids do it! I tweet, write updates, set up a blog. I read for hours for months to make sense of this new world. I think I am making good progress. But then what dents my belief in my capabilities? In my confidence, in my courage and strength to fight on?  I do a great job at projecting that calm, tough exterior while I am making sense of this world. No one can see the struggle that goes into it. It’s all ‘social’. We just project what we want to, not our real selves. I look at the opportunities of the new world. I frantically swim to keep up with the tide. I can see that I can do anything I want in today's times. But then I find that they are doing it better than me. Am I obsolete? Am I old? Does my experience count? Do I stick to what I do? Do I become like them in the new world to be accepted? And there is nothing new left to do in this world. There's no 'unique' anymore. Anything worth doing has been twisted so badly and done to death that my simple ideas look mundane in comparison. The world is so used to tinted glasses of fancy marketing that my sane voice of reason seems out of place. So what is left to do. I look down at what I have been working on and wonder will there be any takers for this? The treats at others' stalls look so much better. And that's what we do when we buy stuff - we decide based on how things look. I am not sure how good my treats are. And I am filled with self doubt. I still put on a brave front and decide to plough through life. Come on! I don't believe in giving up, I tell myself. Let's do what I do best and things will work out. Edison too failed 10,000 times and this is my favourite mood lifter! I get online, start connecting with people. They say they know their work and have done great at their jobs. I go out there and talk to them. But soon I am left standing at the periphery of a crowded room where everyone knows everyone else. I am the only outsider. And I thought it was a 'community' to help people out. Why isn't my voice heard then? Why am I invisible? Why did people promise to help and then forget about it? Is it because I don't know the right people? Connections matter, you see. But then I don’t understand their conversations either. The communities are closed. Successful competitors talk about marketing and money. They seem to be achieving milestones after milestones. Their life is so sorted, I think. And I am still missing something. I can't seem to find a method to the madness. But not someone to be disheartened with this, I tell myself that I will make it - with their help or without them. I spend days, months building my presence brick by brick. I pause, often, to think what I want. I ask, frequently, what do I want to be? In my quiet moments of contemplation I realise that it's an identity I am looking for. Who am I? is what draws a blank. My school friend is an Asst VP with this MNC bank, I tell my spouse. He just grunts knowing where I am going. I could have a full time job and a successful career, I think aloud. You are successful, he says. But in a unique way like no one else is, he reiterates. I am still not convinced. I go back to contemplating about it. Turning words around my tongue. The things that I think I am. Some terms sound familiar to my tongue when I say them aloud. Some sound even more exciting. But I not sure which one of those I really am. None of them fit the conventional roles. I go out and meet people. What do you do, they ask. I am a corporate trainer, I say though not very convincingly anymore. There are other exciting things in the world that have begun calling out to me. And I have realised I can be so many other things. And this only adds to the confusion. I share my dilemma in my conversations with friends. I eagerly wait for someone to say - you are fine as you are. I secretly wish someone will take this burden away from me - the burden of not knowing who I am. Some people wonder why do I need an identity of my own. Your husband earns well, they say. Why do you need to be someone, they ask. You don’t ‘have’ to do it. I tell them, No I don’t but I love doing what I am good at. They shrug their shoulders, roll their eyes and move on. I go out and meet people as a wife. That’s an identity. And I like it. But what do You do, is the emphatic question. Do I need an identity of my own, I wonder. I am a strong support to him, I venture. Come'on, you are more than that is their answer. And I wonder what is it that they are looking for. No, I still don't have answers to my question. You can be whoever you want to be, my spouse says as I melt into his arms with tears of frustration in my eyes at desperate times. He pats me and says, just do what makes you happy. That's the most important thing. That does feel a lot better. But the quest for an identity continues. Some days are bright with ideas and I love what I am doing. Some other days bring along waves of self doubt. But like I bounced back so many times in the past, I know this too shall pass. 

#NaBloPoMo Day 22 - Why I hate Whatsapp groups

Whatsapp is like the most fashionable place to be today. People who do not understand social media in general say - I am very active on Whatsapp and feel better for not being on other platforms. I thought Whatsapp was bloody good because one could send messages free of cost. No more paid SMS. But then came along Whatsapp groups and there was chaos in my paradise.

The tech-challenged person that I am, I was blissfully unaware of groups on Whatsapp for sometime. And then I joined a Zumba class which had groups for each batch. My notification alerts used to be on at that time. And the phone started beeping incessantly at night and early mornings. When I checked to see what was being shared, it was mostly each member saying - Good morning, Chirag or Good Night, Chirag and the others wishing each other the same.

(Chirag was this 20 something Zumba trainer of our class and the kiddo was surprised to see one of us turn up in salwar kameez for a session obviously due to exposure to spandex covered chicks in his training classes. I wanted to inform the shocked kiddo that this is our national dress and he would have seen it being commonly worn if he were born about 2 decades before he actually did. But I digress here)

I had an instant dislike for this Whatsapp group business right from the word go. I was like why do I have to be notified of a message which is not even for me! Well! Times moved on, other people caught on to the trend. And I was added to my Yoga class group. Which was worse because most students were older, Gujju ladies (no offence meant) and more often than not the conversation would be in Gujarati - a language I do not understand to this day. It was just a nuisance to stick around for an occasional announcement about class schedules which I would anyways get on my personal message too. I quit the group. (And I was surprised that people were surprised that I quit!)

I guess I had a happy life for a bit since I did not anyone who may want to add me to a group. Nor did I want to be in any. And then started training groups which I chose to join hoping to meet like minded people and get into some stimulated discussions about training. Fat chance! People in one group argued for 2 days if new members should be asked to introduce themselves!! We are joining a virtual group to become a part of the team, not planning to bombard Paris for ISIS - why would you not want to introduce yourself?? I almost doubted if these people could even be taken for intelligent trainers! And there is something about herd mentality that makes everyone argue - whether right or wrong. Silence is so underrated in today's times. So I have quit pretty much every group where people have added me. Especially groups where people have added me, without asking me. Sometimes more than once. I quit. More than once.

So why am I so allergic to Whatsapp groups? Now I remember this was supposed to be where I start my post. But I guess writing is so cathartic that sometimes it's hard to stop the flow of thoughts.

1. I am more of a one-to-one person. It is hard for me to form connections with invisible, faceless people on a phone chat group.

2. The phone is too small a device to scroll down an entire discussion or to hold one in the first place.

3. Ironically, the inspirational messages all day long is what gets my goat the most. I have had someone post entire chapters of a book each day on the group. Why??

4. The inspirational images will clog your phone if your auto download is on. I had to just disable the feature before my phone was full of these messages/images.

5. I prefer chats with individuals where there is a point to it. Almost all my chats on Whatsapp are with individuals I have something to talk to.

6. By the time I manage to look at chats, the zillion notifications make it impossible to respond to any of the conversations, most of which are over. And I salute people who contribute to those zillion messages! It's as if some people are paid to yap on Whatsapp or how can people keep messaging all day long!

These are a few reasons off the top of my head for not liking whatsapp groups. So if you need to reach me, please send me a message directly. I will seldom see anything addressed to me in a group.

PS: These are my personal views about my dislike for whatsapp chats. No offence meant to people who love being in groups and have found a happy social life there.