Author: novumlorem

Overcoming Fear: A Personal Journey

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What is it about fear that is so paralysing? It could be something like a spider or cockroach, or fear of someone or a situation. Whatever it may be, for people living with fear, there is nothing small about it.

All it takes is a mention and it’ll cause your hearts to start beating so erratically, just like they do when you see someone to whom your heart belongs to, but this is the exact opposite. There’s sweat and palpitations too, but nothing feels romantic. It’s debilitating to the point that either you freeze in your place, or run far far away in the opposite direction so that it doesn’t catch up to you!

I had such debilitating fear of people who birthed me until recently. That is 36 years of me trembling in my boot straps and girding my loins to face them, even for a voice call. My husband of 8 years has supported me no matter what, even though he tried to get me to understand that they no longer have any power over me, I refused to listen to him or understand; I could barely stand him talking to me about them, such was my fear and disgust.

A year ago, I had a breakthrough; an epiphany if you will. I finally realized (about time) that these idiots have no power over me; not any longer, that whatever power they had, had been broken off a long time ago.

By this time, my long suffering husband, had quite given up explaining and being understanding. During the realization, I had a word vomit conversation, where all he said at the end of it was “Thank you God!. You truly are remarkable”. He was growing weary of propping me up at the most inconvenient times, times when he required me to be a little bit stronger. In no way was he getting tired of me or thought I was weak, not at all. But I think there are times when the other half in a relationship requires and expects a little more strength from their partner.

There have been setbacks where I thought it would be a cakewalk, like having a realization was enough for me to break free. I was sorely mistaken. There was an incident this year, where during a family members wedding, I watched the brides family, especially her mom dote and pamper and the family come together in harmony and love to celebrate their child. I swear, my heart broke again. Where I had been sure of being on the path of healing, this one incident pulled me back from the progress I was sure to have made… everything in me just splintered. I had a severe crisis of faith and in my self in identity. I wallowed in it for months.

Who am I?

Who AM I?

I have never felt more like an orphan than I do now.

Now, again, I’ve taught myself that the fault was never in me. It is a lacking in them. It was never me. I had never given them a reason to hate me. Never. In fact, I bent over backwards, made myself more invisible and only did what they told me to do. I thought and hoped, maybe, just maybe, if I did everything just the way they wanted, I would be loved. Such was my greed to be accepted.

Thank God they don’t love me. Because now, I know what love is. Love of parents; my friends’ mothers’, my wonderful in laws. They have shown me what an elders love is and it definitely isn’t fear inducing.

As I write this, I write with hope and prayers that this will reach the people who needs to hear this, those who are lonely, alone, hurt, abandoned, abused… you were never the problem.

And I also want this will be a reminder for those who have overcome such fears, Bravo!! You are all heroes!

Remember, no fear is too big or too small.

Until the next time…

The Guernsey Literary and Potato Peel Pie Society

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This is one of my favourite books, and like all bookworms, I think most books I’ve read are awesome; there are very few books I’ve read that I do not like at all.

This treasure was found in a book fair in Dubai around 10-11 years ago. My friend recommended it to me thinking I would like the narration, and she was right! The story-telling was unique to me; I had never read a book where majority of the narrative was in the form of letters.

I enjoyed reading the writing style we rarely indulge in nowadays.

Situated in the aftermath of WW2, the protagonist, Juliet Ashton (a writer herself), slightly off track in life receives a letter from Dawsey Adams, a resident of the island of Guernsey informing her as being the new owner of one of her books. What started as a hello, quickly morphs into story telling sessions between Juliet and various other residents of the same island; about life under the German occupation, what they did to survive and how they came to form the reading club.

This book is extremely small, but packed quite an effect. It reflects on quiet strength people are forced to draw upon when faced with scarcity of basic human needs; food, shelter, safety.

Though this book was written on a slightly cheery note, it struck a chord with me. It forced me to think how people are forced to survive in war times, which is more common now than it was before. The impoverishment; the fear; the uncertainty; the fight for survival by any means possible.

Has anybody else read this book? Are there any other books like these which you think should be read?

I’ll leave you all here, my tea and book wait for me…

Good night Moon

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This was the second book I purchased and read for my little one. And this one was a doozy, because my kid and I both fell asleep reading this book the first week; the wordings were like tongue twisters and I had to read real slow to make sure it made sense in my head. Did any one else do that?

But after week one, my kid was more engrossed in looking at the pictures and babbling to the book. He would only let me read a couple of pages and then he would take the book for himself to do his thing. Eventually I just started naming the objects in the book and describing the pictures to him instead of reading it. After he turned a year and half was when he allowed me to read it to him properly. Do you think its because he knew it was putting him to sleep? Did his tiny brain figure it out?

Now looking back, I think picture books would have been more better than full on reading. It’s difficult to get them to be still, even when they are tired during bedtime.

Funny thing is I’ve read this book so many times, I can now recite it with my eyes closed in the dark… Do parents ever forget the books we’ve read for our kids?

Do let me know.

Until next time….

When proximity = Unwanted familiarity

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I don’t understand human nature… are we always selfish and gossipy and judgmental? Why? Like what pleasures do we derive from this? Not that I haven’t gossiped or bitched! Of course I have! But I hope and I try to remember the good deeds they’ve performed and always, always try to give them the benefit of the doubt before I try to say something negative about them.

I had stayed with my in laws for a couple of months last year. My sister in law was about to give birth and asked for my emotional support, to which I readily agreed to (she’s my friend too). I knew what she was about to go through; the sheer physical and mental exhaustion; alongside the people who would come with a whole lot of unwanted and useless (at that time) advices and critiquing the methods of parenting, yada yada (you know what I am talking about).

So the baby was born, named and brought home. We tried to support her the best we could; staying up nights, waking up early, the endless diapers, the hormonal meltdowns, the feedings, we helped as much as we could while also paying attention to my 4 year old.

Three months later, thankfully, my sis in law had recovered quite well from the birthing journey and had been managing the baby quite well when the above mentioned crap starts! Not from her at all! She’s a sweetie! But, from other people, about my own parenting.

A little back story; my kid is extremely active. Like he’s an energizer bunny who’s sweet, naughty, intelligent, caring and kind. My in laws are slightly elderly people who can’t keep up with him. So in the initial times after the birth of the baby, I used to put him in front of the phone to distract him after I played and gave him attention and all. In the beginning when I was fully involved in helping out, nobody said anything. Then came the lashings, apparently he’s in front of the phone too much (not true); I am not feeding him properly (not true again); he just doesn’t like to eat rice and curry all the time, and fruits have become a picky contest. He loves his fresh juices though. He just doesn’t want to chew them. And I am spoiling him by not feeding him fish, spices or variety. Oh and my personal favourite, he’s too malnourished!!! Again not true, his paediatrician is quite happy with his growth and (let’s knock on a lot of wood) he’s a healthy child! On and on the hamster wheel had started to run.

Nobody tells you that the hardest part of parenting is not the child themselves, it’s the other people and their unsolicited advices; the judgment! Why can’t people just shut their traps? Why can’t they leave you alone? When does it stop? Why did it start? Who thought dissing parents was fun?

Am I being too sensitive or has it become normal that people don’t even recognize how much of a bad behaviour this is?

The Very Hungry Caterpillar

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Written by Mr. Eric Carle, this is the very first book I read to my child when he was around 8 months old. And I remember in the beginning, my kid would just touch the pages, looked at the illustrations for the first 3 boards, and then tried to gnaw on it to find comfort for his aching gums. Poor kid, teething had been difficult.

The first time I actually read it to him was about a week or 10 days later, and being a novice reader to a kid, I made the mistake of using my happy voice, which resulted in me having to read it 3 times before I gave up, switched off the lights, hoping he would fall asleep. Spoiler, he didn’t. I just had wound him up, his sleep chased away and there he was, bouncing like a newly minted coin on his bed. Whoops!

The next day had been a little better, but a trial still as he was not happy with the way I was reading. Then slowly but surely, he got the hang of being read to during bedtime.

Even now, 5 years later, this is the story I narrate out loud whenever he’s had a difficult day or just wants comfort and familiarity (yes, its been imprinted in my mind).

Reading before sleep is one of his favourite rituals even now, though he has progressed to much bigger books. But I’ll talk more about that in the coming blogs.

See you soon.

Children’s tales

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Hey everyone! I hope everyone is doing well and have been reading and writing and sharing your thoughts well online, unlike someone (me!).

I have decided to start a reading blog, since that is actually something I love and do not miss regardless of the daily grind.

I’ll be starting off with books my child (5) and I have read and are reading. This is not a critical review, just a blog talking about books, bedtime or otherwise.

Hope you all will find it entertaining and informative.

Have you?

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I recently started therapy after long, long deliberations! One was time; the others were getting to an actual office, and/or getting the right fit.

But thanks to covid, interactions have become really easy online, even therapy. So I signed up for online therapy, where I met my counsellor SD, a really smart and lovely individual, who has really helped me break down my issues and outline what we can we can do for some of them, within 2 sessions.

They mentioned something called my “inner child”. They said that my anger and frustrations are not because of my adult self, but my inner child, who was subjected to atrocious behaviours. My inner child is, basically, throwing a tantrum because I have not and will never get the apologies required to make peace within myself, to soothe that anger. They told me that I am still holding on to that hope that I’ll receive that acknowledgment. The funny thing is, in the back of my mind, I knew this was not possible as one that the top characteristics of being a narcissist is that they never think what they’ve done, said or believe are wrong. They genuinely believe that they’re always right. Always! But alas, my inner child still holds a ray of hope that they would give me the acceptance and love that I had a right to, not what they dished out.

So, now, I am trying to come in terms with these revelations as this has actually blown my mind. I thought I had made peace with everything; tolerating them when they come to visit, listening to them whine about silly matters. I thought I was ok. But now, digging deep, I am not!

Emotional and mental abuse is such a roller coaster! There are no physical signs for other people to notice or discern; no bruises or broken body parts, only the loop-de-loop that’s in our brain! All of the damage is imprinted on your mind, heart and brain. And that is so much more dangerous, because it is invisible to naked/untrained eyes, it is so extremely easy to mask the pain with a smile.

Another thing that shocked me is that no one, nobody, is safe from abusive predators! Even those who grew up in safe, secure, stable backgrounds can be targeted and be susceptible to this; that this is not confined to high risk individuals, those who grew up in broken or abusive places themselves.

Abuse, I believe, is really one of the worst forms of cruelty one can impart on another. It bleeds into every aspect of your life. In the beginning it, very slowly, subtlety, takes away your choices in the smallest matters; what you eat, how you eat, if the colour of the dress you’re wearing suits you or not etc, till reaches a stage where you’re almost housebound, and having to provide accountability for every breath you breathe. The worst and most dangerous stage is when you decide whether you should even exist in this world, where you are nothing but a burden to those who “love and take care” of you, even though they may be the ones who put you in this situation. Or even worse, is to act out their anger, sadness and resentment against others who’ve done no harm to them. Such is utter helplessness and hopelessness! So much so, that even with professional help and a supportive clan, very few people come back from this stage to live a happy and fulfilling life.

Such is abuse!

How many of you have dealt with your inner child? Have you all made peace with the abuse?

Have you forgiven yourselves? Have you all realized that you were not at fault?

Have you?

Freedom of Rights

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Quite some time ago I saw a short of a south Indian serial/telenovela on YouTube during the mindless browsing, post bedtime rituals. There, two individuals were discussing the freedoms “given” to women, and I paraphrase; Individual B told Individual A that he has given enough freedom to his partner to do whatever she wants! A scoffs and asks “what do you mean you’ve given enough freedom? When did she give you her freedom/rights, that you can pinch it off but by bit and present it to her whenever you think it is right to do so? Freedom is an individuals birth right. It cannot and shouldn’t be given or taken away as and when required. 95% of the men think like this and then wonder why are our woman not happy!”

It stayed with me. I’ve never come across that short again, and though I know the name of the show, it would’ve been too much of a hassle to comb through 300+ episodes to find 2 mins of this.

This is a statement I grew up with; “I’ve given you enough freedom, don’t cross/misuse it!” Like what?! I used to question these statements before I was broken down and preferred to shut up and put up for my own mental health. But I realized that I was just one of the millions of women who face this dilemma, not just in India but worldwide! We are taught from birth that our rights and freedom belong to a third person! It belongs to our fathers, mothers, families, teachers, bosses, in laws, husbands, kids, etc. Why? Why? How do we have such extremes in a scale from having woman who have broken the patriarchy chains in our country, like Kiran Bedi, Indira Gandhi, Sudha Murthy, Helen, Mithali Raj on one side to women being chained by such baseless “traditions” on the other?

We need permission to be born; to grow; go have friends; to go out and play; to wear certain types of clothes; to be educated; to wear or cut our hair a certain style; to be able to chose our subjects for higher studies; to choose the colleges we go to; to go away from home; to choose work over marriage or higher studies; to choose our careers; to choose type of work; to accept a promotion; to choose between kids or careers, the list is never ending!

Each and every decision is taken by everyone else other than the woman who wants to take it! Why? The most common answer I’ve received is so that we don’t go out of hand, and bring shame to the family. Why is the honour of a family only the burden of the women? Why are men not given equal responsibilities of this crown? Why are men not taught to respect and honour a woman’s wishes? But that’s another topic for another day!

Women who have actually gotten their education and reached top positions make up probably 1% of all the women work force, may be worldwide. But those women who are working “menial jobs” like vendors, farmers, food stalls, transporting etc. make up almost 99%. Then there’s the housewives who are told that they do nothing, “you’re just sitting at home and enjoying free time”. These women, who, labour quietly without expecting any return, any paid salaries, nor given any recognition or awards and don’t even get praises for making houses homes, how will they reach anywhere? They don’t even expect the right of a day off, just because they don’t go to office to work!

Everybody loves giving big talks about deciding your own destiny and fate, but when push comes to shove, these very “advisors” will pull others back from the precipice of greatness! They will say, be careful, don’t aim too high, you may get burned; or what about your family/kids? what will happen to them? yada yada!

It frustrates me!

Granted, there are not many opportunities for women to prove themselves (thank you patriarchy), but even if they did come across one, the chains of fear, disapproval, failure and resulting taunts, lack of confidence always is a road block. What if women were told that they are capable, they can do it, their rights exercised, or even given the opening, imagine where they would reach!

So people, let the women in your lives the right to choose the opportunity! Even if it them wanting to start her own dhaba, or wanting to continue their education, going away for a job, starting a venture, anything, let them fly. Their freedom is their own. Let them decide if they want to shove those doors and windows open or close. Forget what society is going to say! The women in your lives come first. If they’re flying, they’ll take you along for the ride. And when they return, make sure they have a safe place to land. They would definitely do the same for you!

Be happy for them, don’t be insecure and jealous. Just accept the fact that they probably can do so many things better than the you. You can advice them, you can teach them, you can guide them, but they’re allowed to have their own thoughts, they have the right to take your advice or leave it. But don’t just encourage them with words, give them the support by taking up the chores they usually do around the house, be their village. Light up the path to their dreams, clear it of roadblocks and objections. Let them be!

Their freedom is their own. It does not belong to anyone else!

Love: Partnership or Compromise?

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I once read somewhere that love is like a thick rubber band, it doesn’t have to be taken from one person to given to another. It’ll stretch out enough to include everyone who resides in your heart. But this is for all the other relationships, not the ones between lovers, I believe. Love is a whole lot of things, this is what I’ve understood…

Love is not selfish, there’s no I, me or myself; it is us, we and ours. It is compromise, it is a promise, it’s friendship, it’s fun, serious, laughter and tears.

It’s a 50/50 partnership.

Love is not a reason to hold someone so tightly that they’ll feel trapped. Love is such that you’ll hold them just tight enough for them to feel your love, trust, warmth, support and the assurance that when they fly towards their goals and dreams, there will be a safety net to catch them if they fall, or a hand to lift them back up.

It is pride in each other.

Love could be a flash bang that blinds or it could be a simmering warmth that glows. It’s constant, rigid, unchanging. It is the comfort of a prayer; it is a ride on a roller coater as well a Ferris wheel.

It is not ego.

Love is not constantly testing your partner of their worth, questioning their actions or keeping track of their every move. It is support for their endeavours; advice when they are faltering. It is the little pushes towards the alternate ways to their goals and unmoving belief in them. It is being in each others skin, and also space when needed. It is cheering on for their smallest achievements and encouragement when disheartened. It is taking decisions together and being independent.

It is trust. It is faith.

It is glass of cold water on hot summer days, and a mug of hot chocolate on cold winters. It is a shelter from stormy days or the pool on muggy days. It is passion and comfort; it is a trampoline and a soft bed. It is as fierce as a gale and soft as breeze. It is support and being a team. it is safety and risk.

It is home.

If and when you don’t feel anything like this, let that person go. Most of us stay in relationships that don’t make us feel fulfilled or happy because were scared of being alone. We tell ourselves and others that compromise is the essence of any relationship. I disagree! There are compromises, but it shouldn’t be to the extent that we lose ourselves or resent being with the other. It is not about losing our individualities nor is it moulding someone to an idea or image. It should be for growth and lessons, not to be stuck in mire or confusions. It is showing them the way, and holding their hand but not spoon feeding them what to do or say or how to act all the time.

I’ll conclude this with one of my favourites verses from the Bible, 1 Corinthians 13:4-7, which, I think, says it all.

“Love is patient, love is kind. It does not envy, it does not boast. It is not proud. It does not dishonor others, it is not self seeking, it is not easily angered, it keeps no record of wrongs. Love does not delight in evil but rejoices with the truth. It always protects, always trusts, always hopes, always perseveres.”

What are we waiting for?

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Like all kids of the yester years, we were lead to believe that women had to wait for prince charming to come and rescue you. All we had to do was wait and pass time. I now know that we, (women or men), can and need to rescue ourselves first. We need to write the plans and follow the road to our own destinies and goals.

We need to stop waiting! Waiting for acceptance, for love, for opportunities; for approvals; for doors to be opened for us! We need to break out of the bonds society has caged us in; break down doors and windows; tear up the boxes we’ve been put in! We need stop following examples (or take the best from it) and be the example. Make your own paths!

We can listen to advices and hints and outright judgments, but we should decide which ones will help us grow and which to ignore. Stop thinking what others have taught us to think and do it ourselves, because when we think like how we’ve been taught to think, there are always limitations. We have been given our own brains and minds so that we can be our own individuals with our own thoughts and goals and wishes and dreams.

Push through the barnacles and thorns and choking weeds; prove our worth to ourselves then to others.

There may be detours, road blocks or even outright dead ends and cliff drops but, keep going, keep growing, keep learning! Listen, look and learn. Never ever stop learning or growing. Decide our own destination. Work hard! And cut out those who keep pulling us down or keeping us chained up.

Value oneself first, be kind to yourself; respect yourself and expect no less from anyone else. Remember that respect is a two way street; treat others how you would like to be treated.

Strive to achieve you goals and dreams but don’t step on others. Lend a hand, an ear or a shoulder. Find good mentors, be a good mentor. Know when to be rigid and stick to what you know and when to be flexible so that you can seek or learn something new.

Dreams and goals are not confined to any religion, caste, tradition, country, age or gender. Every one us has the right and freedom to be whatever we want to be and do what ever good we want to do.

What are we waiting for? Make the universe our goal, not the stars!