No Regrets...?

Whenever I hear of the phrase 'No Regrets' it either reminds me of the Robbie William's namesake song or the question-answer round in beauty paegents where hopeful beauty-queens give boilerplate type anwers when posed with the question 'Do you have any regrets? and why?'; their answers always seems to be an overwhelming 'No' and the reason being that they do not regret anything as it helped them to become a better person and taught them important life lessons. I do agree with them on the latter, there are important lessons to be learnt from each of the crests and troughs of life, but having no regrets is quite surprising.

I have my own bagful of regrets. Like the majority of people my regrets have to do with things I will never get a shot at again. For me that would have to be talking to my grandparents, asking them about their childhood, their favourite food or what their favourite colour was...

You see, my regrets have to do with people and not taking the time to enjoy their presence in my life. I regret getting so caught up with my studies that I did not make the time to visit my maternal grandad for 7 years, only to make the journey for his funeral. He was a wonderful man that I knew of, but knew nothing about. There are so many questions that I would've loved to ask him and stories about his experiences that I would've loved for him to tell me. This taught me how fragile life is and how someone can be snatched away from you in a second. There is no notice period in life...

I became resolute in my desire to learn more about my surviving grand parents. I spent time with my surviving grand father to learn more about him but unfortunately that was short lived as well. His Alzheimer's took effect overnight and he no longer remembered who I was. It broke my heart to see that this man no longer knew who I was. His memory was wiped clean, how was he to tell me about himself?
These are my biggest regrets.

I think it is natural to have regrets as it gives us the motivation and the drive to strive for betterment. We shouldn't dwell on them instead recognize them and learn what that situation has to teach us. So, take the time to really smell those roses during the spring, spring will always roll around next year, question is, will the roses be there? will we be there to smell the roses?

OCD!!

I think I have a mild case of OCD; No, it's not a disease and No! It’s not contagious.
FYI, OCD = Obsessive Compulsive Disorder.

My suspicions of OCD were confirmed, in part, this morning when I felt the intense need to tie the shoe laces of a guy who was walking in front of me. He was not in the least bothered that his long shoe laces had come undone and this bothered me even more. I somehow resisted the urge and went along my not so merry way.

I do not know if I'm just über concerned about these things which I'm tending to categorize as OCD, but some of them are -

I just can't stand to see water running from any faucet wastefully. The first image that flashes in my mind is of all those thirsty children in Africa (how noble of me, right? :P). I'm proud to report that I've turned off several taps/faucets/water outlets in places that vary from the very obvious restrooms, kitchens to the not so common laboratories, parks, museums and stations. If there is running water, be doubly sure that I'll turn it off. A dripping faucet is one of my worst nightmares.

I hate clutter and sometimes feel compelled to organize things optimally; 'Optimally', being the key word in that statement. Things need to be first categorized and then organized by color, size, frequency of use and then ease of use. I'm sure most people are this way when it comes to organization, so this might not be OCD.

I sometimes find myself thinking of ways to optimize my way around the house with the chores that I have to do so that I wouldn’t have to go back and forth, is this being OCD or is it being efficient? Whilst I'm optimizing the path in my head I realize how useful lessons that I learnt in Graph Theory (Travelling Salesman, anyone?) are in my everyday life

Spelling mistakes drive me nuts, especially if I'm the one making them. (God forbid if this piece contains one). Every email needs to be proof read at least twice before hitting the 'Send' button. After sending out the email I need to go check the mail again in the 'Sent Items' folder just be sure it went out correctly. Lately, I've been a little reckless with my email sending habits by bringing down the proof reading count to 1 and by not bothering to check the 'Sent Items' folder.

So there you have it, my list of things which I'm very 'particular' about. I used to be germaphobic but I'm not anymore; one thing I still do is hold my breath for 10 seconds every time someone coughs or sneezes - I think that is adequate amount of time for all the germs and viruses to float away in the wind, right? :)

Is it worth it?

"Words just like eggs should be handled with care because eggs once broken and words once spoken can never be repaired"

Anger is one of the most self destructive human forces. Unbridled anger's aftermath is always ugly. Have you ever found yourself brimming with anger and ready to spew venom? After you have vented, have you been guilt ridden or shocked with the outcome after the initial pleasure of relieving yourself of your emotional burden?

Anger manifests itself in many forms, from physical violence to harsh words. Although very few of us resort to physical violence many of us do express it using words, some of which can be very hurtful to the receiving party. They say that we tend to hurt the people we care about the most; so, the person at the receiving end of your rage would most likely be someone who is of some significance in your life.

Regardless of the sources and targets of your anger consider the below points before you vent....

Is it really worth hurting someone to resolve my hurt?
Will hurting them resolve my issues and make me happy?

What will I gain/lose from this? Am I ready to live with the consequences that this will lead to?

Will I be as angry about this tomorrow?

Am I angry because my ego was hurt? Am I at fault too?
Is there a better way to resolve this?



Thinking things through will give you a clear picture of the situation you are in and how things may unfold. This will not only provide you with an opportunity to cool down but will also enable you to reason and deal with the situation constructively.

Although you may feel like you've lost an opportunity to vent and show your one-upmanship you will be overjoyed with the self restraint that you have shown and the damage that you have averted.

I love NY ??

Empire City, Gotham, The City that never sleeps, anyway you slice the 'Big Apple' pie New York City is the one of the most ethnically diverse and culturally stimulating places on the planet. It is also VERY crowded. If you are a person who is claustrophobic or one who doesn't appreciate their personal space being violated, then NYC may not be the place for you because chances that you may smell what the guy sitting next to you had for lunch or notice the personal hygiene (or lack there of..) of the lady standing in front of you [snow flakes on shoulders in the middle of summer!] are pretty darn good.

One thing I noticed about native New Yorkers is that they have a big personality. They have an opinion on practically anything under the sun and are never shy to let you know how they feel, even though you are a stranger to them. Being the quiet person that I am I found this brazenness extremely amusing as this was a far leap from the polite, always accommodating people I was used to encountering back home.

My personal experiences with NYC have been a mixed bag so far. I am tempted to label it a rude city after having dealt with obnoxious customer services reps at stores who will not even make eye contact with you, if they ever do acknowledge your existence, to being cursed by strangers for no apparent reason. The most memorable ones among these, apart from being given 'the finger', was the time when I was given 'advice' on my apparent stupidity for having chosen a traffic impeding strolling suitcase for the busy streets of NY rather than a wise choice, which would have been a backpack; and also the time when a random guy yelled at me, 'Hey Yankee, go home!'. After considerable amount of googling of the term 'Yankee' I realized I wasn't one and looked nothing like one, may be the guy lacked a significant vocabulary and could not find a better word in the heat of the moment.

In spite of these experiences, it is the pleasant and quirky ones that keep me from labeling the city rude. Like the time when I fainted on a train and was helped by complete strangers who made sure all my belongings were safe and were with me until the paramedics came. I still remember the lady who refused to leave me until it was determined that I was well, even if it meant for her being late to work and also the lady who called later that day to checkup on me. This along with being helped by strangers every time I've slipped and fallen on a patch of ice have reaffirmed my faith in humanity. [Three winters so far and three bad falls for each one of them, hope the jinx is broken and 4th time's the charm]

So, like any big city NYC has the good, the bad and the ugly. Living here has made me bolder and stronger, I just hope it hasn't made me thick skinned and insensitive. Oh, as for the quirky experience I had, it was the time I got skin care advice from someone on the subway. Her tip - Mix aspirin and warm water and rub the mixture on your skin to make it blemish free!

Smell-A-Memory

Have you ever come across a familiar smell that reminds you of a special someone or transports you back in time to a fond childhood memory? They say that most of the memories we cherish have more to do with the way we feel at the moment that experience was recorded in our brains rather than what we saw, heard or smelled. Think of it this way, you may have had the fortune of seeing the Niagara Falls, but what would you associate with that memory? Is it the size of the water fall, amount of water gushing or the mist in the air? Or is it the way you felt dwarfed by its massive size, the chill that you felt when you dipped your feet in the water or the way you felt when the cool mist brushed against your cheeks? Memories are always more vivid when there are fond feelings associated with them.

As I sat in a subway car on a hot day, I readied myself for the onslaught my senses were about to face. Rush hour in a train on a hot summer day is definitely not a pleasant experience, smelling some one’s perspiration in an encapsulated space is even more not so. That is why I was pleasantly surprised when I smelled a hint of camphor waft through the air very briefly. That smell although subtle triggered a very clear and strong memory from my childhood. That is when I decided to make a small list of smells and people/events in my life they remind me of.

Camphor – Tulsi Pooja after Diwali, with my paternal grandparents, Mom, Dad and uncle surrounding the Tulsi and me beating hard on a small gong to drive away the ‘negative forces’.

Fresh Dalitoy – Saturday Afternoons when I was in the 8th grade, when my Sister and I got home, after a half-day of school, to freshly prepared hot food. On the other days the food was packed in lunch boxes, so Saturday allowed me to enjoy a hot lunch on a school day.

Ripe Mangoes – This reminds me of summer holidays spent with my maternal grandparents by the beach; it also reminds me of my Mom as she is very fond of this fruit ... almost a ‘Mango Freak’!

Mothballs – my Grandma’s beloved closet which she very rarely allowed me to see. I always was intrigued when she did give me a glimpse of its contents. I remember being hit by a cool crisp mothballish scent whenever she opened those closet doors.

Old spice – This is a very distinct smell and reminds me of my Dad when I was in kindergarten. Also associated with this are memories of me emptying bottles of Old Spice into little swimming pools that I etched out of Thermocol for my Barbies.

There are several other smells that trigger memories but these are few of the ones that I can recall off the top of my head. As I read through my list I notice it mostly consists of memories with my family; there are several other scents/smells that remind me of people, places and even situations I’ve been in but those smells are hard to describe [ for example: The warm muddy damp smell just after it has rained ] and those memories vague unless triggered. There are a whole list of smells that remind me of unpleasant places and situations, but we’ll save that for another post, shall we?

So, the next time you come across a familiar scent/smell/aroma take a minute and try to remember who or what it reminds you of…. You’ll give your olfactory membranes a well deserved work-out and in the process may unearth a forgotten memory as well.

Bloggerina!?!?

Blogging has become a new hobby of mine. I may be a late bloomer in the world of blogging but I am enjoying this new role of mine – Bloggerina!

Definition : Bloggerina – A girl who loves blogging.

[May this post stand testament to the fact that I was the creator of the word Bloggerina, if it already exists then … Oh well… tough luck I guess ]

What would be the male equivalent of a Bloggerina?! Nothing comes to mind as of now… Bloggerino perhaps?

Though I read a lot I never really tried my hand at writing (is it just me who sees the pun there? Hand…writing…? Oh boy, this blog sucks!), so this blog is giving me the opportunity to organize my thoughts and express my views, and I must say … I am enjoying it .. a lot!!

I do not know if this blog will ever be read by anyone except for the few people close to me in my life but this is turning out to be a good creative outlet. If this is read or not it will still serve me as an online journal that I can look back and reflect on sometime in the future to better understand myself.

Moms and scraped knees...

Today I fell and hurt myself pretty badly. Despite the severe pain I felt in my foot and knee, feelings of embarrassment overshadowed the pain that I was feeling in my leg that was now starting to turn black and blue. All I did was dust myself off and walk away as if nothing had happened. This is in stark contrast to what would have happened if I had hurt myself when I was a kid.

As a child I have hurt myself innumerable times. Split finger, twisted ankle, fractured foot, torn ligament, cut lip, scraped knee, elbow, chin, nose bleed - you name it, chances are pretty good that I would have injured myself that way; I still have the remnant bumps on my forehead to prove some of my past adventures.

When I hurt myself I would bawl my eyes and lungs out. Though the howling could pretty much be heard around town, it was directed to one person in particular - my Mom. It was so that she could know that I was in pain and needed her undivided attention from that point on. To be honest, I quite enjoyed being hurt and sick, because those were the times that I would be the center of attention of my family. Though not being an attention seeker in public, I must say I enjoyed being fawned over by my Mom, especially when I was hurt or unwell.

I don't think I am the only person guilty of this behavior as a child. Have you ever noticed that when a child falls or hurts itself it only cries when its Parent or loved one has witnessed its injury? The crying has got even louder when the Parent tries to soothe and comfort the child. There have been several occasions when the child has hurt itself the same exact way but just walked away without making a scene after looking around and observing that no one had noticed its 'boo-boo'. The greater the attention, the louder the crying gets. Of course, these are minor injuries that I am talking about and not something serious and life threatening.

Looking at my fading scars of an era gone by, I must say I am now quite fond of sharing the stories, behind each one of them, to ears that are willing to listen. I'm starting to think that kids enjoy the occasional scrape, here and there, while playing, though they will never ever admit to it.