Am I a Loser?

Changing the Script of my Life

I have started writing the morning pages. Every morning I jump straight out of my  bed  to my desk, where I start scribbling in my diary. I have committed to writing three pages every day . My pen furiously captures my stream of consciousness in these pages and I never review anything that I have written. 

I have been appalled at the themes emerging in these pages. One of the issues that came up in the pages was my recent struggle to wake up early in the morning and follow my morning routine like the good old times. And for some time now I had been failing miserably at this endeavor. My mind said that I should not make a big issue out of something so insignificant. However, the reality was that since it had been appearing prominently and consistently in my morning pages, it must have been a big deal for me somehow.

I wrote in my morning pages about how big a loser I was . The voice in my head kept telling me, “You are a lazy fart who will never move beyond these basic struggles in life. Forget about the big things, you will always be bogged down by the baggage of these un-necessary things.”. The voices would start a vicious cycle  in my head that would pull me down further and further during the day.

A few days back I came across an excellent piece of writing. I decided to follow the wisdom carried within that piece and take a reality check on my life. I discovered that I was anything but lazy. I was sincere to my work, I  was working out regularly in the evenings, I was involved in community service, I was fulfilling my responsibilities at home, I was catering to my own self expression needs, I was taking care of my pets, and so forth –  I was anything but lazy. This was reality substantiated by hard evidence. 

My feelings had been giving me a false signal, far separated from reality. I decided to take corrective action by changing the script in my head. I decided to confront the voice of doom with the voice of reality. The script changed from  “I am a lazy loser” to “I am a hard working and industrious person. It is just that I have not been able to wake up early lately.”  And such a small shift in the script has brought immense relief to me. There has been peace in my head and in my life since then. Very soon after going through this process, I have been able to wake up early every morning without any struggle.

The whole process made me realize that these negative voices that go straight for my jugular, are not the reality. They are the critical voices carried and internalized from my childhood. They are the critical voices of my mother, grandmother and other significant people from my childhood. These people continue to live within me through their voices. And it is time that I reclaim myself by changing the script in my head.

The Sutta Diaries

My struggle to Quit Smoking

It is now proved beyond doubt that smoking is one of the leading causes of statistics - Anonymous

My love affair with cigarettes began several years back while on a trek with some friends . The first puffs were a disaster with me ending in a coughing bout . It took a little practice before I could exude the confidence of the chic, liberated female smoker who understands well how to hold the banal cigarette between her lips, inhale the smoke with a deep breath and then exhale it through the nostrils in a perfect orchestrated fashion . It was a feeling of great empowerment and liberation. 

Ten years later, I am struggling with trying to quit smoking. The doctor has informed me that I suffer from mild bronchitis and that every cigarette for me is equivalent to four cigarettes. My teeth are badly stained. I am full of fears. I am scared that I might end up contracting a deadly disease like cancer or that I might just die of a sudden heart attack. Or that I might just forget a lit cigarette around in the house at night resulting in me peacefully burning to ashes in my sleep.

Hence, time and again I have tried to make a commitment to myself – to try to quit smoking. And I have tried hard. 

One of the first motivations to quit smoking was to escape the bone chilling feeling of getting my teeth cleaned. It made me decide that I would not get my teeth cleaned again till I quit smoking. I thought the desperation of living with bad teeth would eventually be a motivating force powerful enough to make me quit smoking. Well, I was wrong.  I find myself in the position of having to cover my mouth with my hand while conversing with people and later on rushing to do my smoking Pranayama exercises.

Few months back, I made up my mind to quit smoking again. I decided to take the help of the wonder drug – the Nicotine gum. Hallelujah!  It worked – for a day. On the second day, I found myself enjoying a double dose of Nicotine – from the Nicotine gum as well as the cigarettes. 

 I am not a quitter. Last week I decided to give it another shot. I managed to trim down my consumption to two cigarettes a day. Every morning, I would send the maid ( who comes to clean the house) to buy one cigarette for me. After three days, she got tired . She suggested  buying a larger quantity together and hiding them inside the house. I advised her against it, educating her about my dog-nose for smokes. She refused to believe me and ignored my good advice. As was expected, I played detective and after 15 minutes of the treasure hunt found the cigarette pack neatly buried inside the rice sack in the kitchen. Luckily, she had bought only five cigarettes. The next morning, she was shocked to find them gone. I had the look of, “I told you so” on my face. 

Being a persevering person, she decided to give it another try. The next day, I discovered the cigarettes lying under the pile of old newspapers in the lobby. She gave up on the third day.

Last year, my grandmother made several big bottles of my favorite Namkeen mix for me. As she put one on my bedside, she urged me to use it as a substitute for cigarettes. I ended up smoking and putting on weight.

Two years back,  I came across an advertisement in the newspaper– “Hypnosis for Quitting Smoking”. I went for the treatment for three days in a row. For the three days, I was very hopeful, and on the fourth day , I was smoking double the usual. On a friend’s advice, I even attended a 12 step support group for quitting nicotine. The group shut down after few months due to limited membership.

I have even tried herbal stuff like St John’s wart and calming tea. My mom bought me a book  filled with ghastly images of people suffering from various kinds of diseases contracted due to smoking. I just made felt sad for these people. 

I have spent days on introspective writing , putting down things like “Why I want to quit smoking” and “Quit Smoking plans and timetables”. I thought if I had the motives and plans in place, everything else would be simple.

I am sick and tired of being sick and tired of smoking.

I seem to have tried everything under the Sun to kick this disgusting habit. Any new ideas and suggestions are welcome.

Moral of the Story :  Do not pick up that first smoke; it ain’t cool !!!

Genitals do not exist in India

It is quite ironical that the organs responsible for the perpetuation of human life, and a source of great pleasure to us all are treated as non-existent in our culture. And this is in a country, where images and statues of the ling proliferate homes, temples, markets and minds.

A therapist friend of mine recently held a month long workshop for bright and intelligent college students who had opted for a training in sexual abuse. She asked them to take turns in drawing the human body on a blackboard, labeling each part. While all of them displayed great drawing and labeling skills, each of these bright students conveniently forgot to point out the genitals. Is it that genitals do not exist in India, or is it that they are a vestigial organ that we have been taught to ignore.

I was at a Vipassana retreat recently. Mr Goenka’s voice bellowed from the tape recorder, “Feel every part of your body – the ankles, the calf muscles, the thighs, the back, the chest, chin, ears, forehead, head, etc.” At the end of the sermon , I felt very confused. He had instructed us to feel every part of the body, and while he had mentioned each of these parts, he had forgotten to mention the genitals. Was I supposed to feel the genitals or not? It was perplexing. At the end of the meditation session, I walked up to the teacher, and asked her in a hushed voice, ‘Are we supposed to feel our genitals as well?” She whispered back, “Yes, he said very part of the body.”  Damn it! Why did he not mention it then!

The Trauma of Peeing

Disclaimer : The theme has been picked up from TheLadiesFinger.com, but the stories are my own

I once asked a female friend, How an orgasm feels like to her? She replied. “have you ever held your pee back for very long, and then got an opportunity to pee? That feeling is very similar to feeling of an orgasm.”  I totally agree with her.

Being a woman in India,  I have gone through the intense trauma of holding back my pee for hours many a times. Some of my pee adventures have left a permanent scar on my brains as well as my kidneys:

1)      I was driving back from a meeting in West Delhi to our office in South Delhi, with my boss, a  male chauvinist of moronic proportions. After accepting that I could not bear the pee- withholding trauma any longer, I informed him coyly about my urgent need to pee. The bastard responded with a big smirk on his face, “Aah, but there is no place we can stop. You will have to wait till the office.” After this he unleashed a repertoire of disgusting pee jokes.

2)      My two female friends were in urgent need to pee. We were on the service lane next to Deer Park. There was not enough time to look for a civilized loo. I parked the car in the service lane, and opened both the doors of my car on the side facing the park. My friends squatted between the open doors, while I kept a strict vigilance on passerbys. Luckily, I had toilet paper in the car. As soon as the job was done, my friends dashed into the car and I lost no time in pressing the accelerator. We joked about the incident for days.

3)      New Years – 2012. A female friend, my boyfriend and I were headed towards Defence Colony for dinner on New Year’s Eve. The female friend announced that she could not hold her pee back anymore. We stopped the car in a dark corner, and the friend peed just as the clock struck midnight, and the world moved into the New Year. What a unique way to start the Year.. with relief!!!

4)      2013- Bus trip to Jaipur for the Literature Festival: I was dying to pee. I knew the bus would not stop for another 2-3 hours as we had already made a stop. The pee pressure however lent me enough courage to wake down the aisle to the bus driver, and order him to stop the bus. The driver stopped the bus a few yards ahead. All the passengers looked surprised as I raced down the steps and into the fields, looking for a private spot. A little while later, I climbed back into the bus with the look of nirvana on my face. I could see the passengers staring hard at me. I did not care.

Alice in Wonderland

My latest adventure has been a travel of different sorts... I have been traveling into the world of business and entrepreneurship... and man ain't it a tough one!!!
At the beginning of this year, I set up a small outlet doling out specialty Kashmiri cuisine. Now while I do appreciate gastronomic delights from time to time, I have no background in either business or hospitality industry. This new endeavor has put me on a sharp learning curve. I am learning about economics and accounts, about taxes and licenses, about marketing and promotions,about customer service, food packaging and logistics, about employee motivation and retention, about product pricing amongst many other things. This is "World B", and these are its virgin peaks, meandering paths, narrow valleys and fragrant flowers.
It is all about perspective. On some days when the going gets tough, I sit and blame myself for making this foolish choice. On other days when my mind is in a brighter place, I look at myself and my world as 'Alice in Wonderland".

Feeling or Real?

A friend of mine and I keep ourselves constantly amused with intellectually stimulating arguments about science vs. belief. He is an atheist and I am a believer. If I quote something from metaphysics, his answer is a simple, “Where is the evidence?”

Recently, after having spent a few hours on my warm electric blanket, he complained of burnt ass. His ass was not really burnt, but he just had the “ass-burn” feeling. My answer to him was, “Show me the evidence! How do I believe your feeling? You could feel anything?” His was silenced for once.

Why I became a CouchSurfer?

I was planning a backpacking trip with my mother for two months across Europe. Since, I was on a shoestring budget, I was scouting around for ideas to save and pinch every penny. That is when a friend suggested, “Why don’t you try couchsurfing.com? It is the largest volunteer-based worldwide hospitality network connecting travelers with members of local communities, who offer free accommodation and advice.”

I checked out the website that night. It seemed like a great way to save an awful lot of money that we would have otherwise ended up spending on expensive yet shoddy hotels in shoddier locations. I immediately signed up and paid up the 5 dollars that was required as a reference check.

The idea sounded exciting but my Indian cynicism of foreigners and travelers set in. I called up my friend who has been a member of the couchsurfing project for last two years. He assured me, “Most of the members are verified and have references and feedback from other members on their profile page. Even if you do not want to stay over, you can ask them to share with you some local insights over a cup of coffee.”

That set me at peace. I started scanning the profiles and restricted my e-mail requests only to female members. “Hallelujah! I received quick and positive responses.”

That led to me to check other similar websites such as globalfreeloaders.com J but with names like that I decided to stick to couchsurfing.com

Unfortunately we had to drop our Europe plans. Instead, we decided to tour South-East Asia. The hotels in that part of the world are not too expensive, so we decided to just meet up with some members in a few places over coffee. Learning about the local culture, economics and customs from these members was a whole new experience. Some also got us to experience the local flavor by taking us on a tour of the city.

In Yogyakarta, we met a member who explained how the Indonesian natural resources had been drained by foreign companies, as a result of a local corrupt Government. In Kuala Lumpur, a member took us to the best place in town to savor the local delicacies - Nasi Goreng and Nasi Kampuk and then dropped us back to our hotel in ChinaTown in his BMW. In Bangkok, a member explained the local politics and issues to us. In Vietnam, a member spent an entire day explaining the history of Saigon, and the recent strides that the country has made. In Singapore, a member took us on the romantic river cruise and accompanied us the next day to the shopping zones, driving hard bargains on our behalf.

When I was back in Delhi, I said to myself, “Travelling is a passion. Most times people are not able to travel due to budget constraints. I have a spare room. So why not make good use of it by letting couchsurfers stay over.”

I have turned into an avid couchsurfer. So far, I have had females from Europe, US and South America stay over. The interactions with these members has opened a whole new window of experiences for me. I get to learn so much about the culture and economies of their native places. I get important instructions from these people in the art of traveling and making friends. I get to hear exciting, adventurous tales of visits to far and exotic places. Besides, I also get to visit some historical monuments and famous joints in Delhi that otherwise in the busyness of Delhi life tend to get ignored.

A close friend of mine is immigrating to UK sometime soon. He has been anxious about finding a decent, budget accommodation in London, and is full of frivolous questions like, “What kind of business suits to buy? Should I buy only black and grey? Should I buy Oxford shoes? Should I buy the train pass?” I directed him to couchsurfing.com. Nowadays, he spends quite a few hours everyday chatting with Londoners on couchsurfing.com getting the answers he desperately seeks.

I am definitely looking forward to staying with a few couchsurfers on my next international trip. The experience is unparalleled especially if you are a travel addict like me.