The art of expression. To be vocal or expressive about one’s feelings, decisions, thoughts, ideas.

If there is much content (happiness) gleaned from just experiencing it, why is there an urge to express it?

• Self-Gratification?
• Expectations in Reciprocation?
• A need to share?
• Vindication?

Does it matter that the world/group/person outside of you need to know in the first place at all? More so, when there is no expectation on the expression?

I suppose the primary reason to express it is not so much as a selfish need to do so, but also to promote and spread the joy one experiences, hoping that the receiver may also experience a similar wave.

Perhaps it all ties in with the “giving” that hit me earlier, and I continue to do, just not record anymore.

On the flip side:

Maybe it’s really just the economy?

Like say for example: I may want to send a card expressing the feeling of “missing” a certain someone. The card costs $4:00, then there’s the postal charge and then the time spent in sending it out.  See what I mean?

Economy somehow seems to fare in all the instances I thought of.  That does make one a responsible citizen of the world at the very least. In times such as these, every action counts.

The only instance where this scenario ceases to make sense is when you are standing in the same physical space. Then we go back to our primary question:

Why express it at all in the first place?

Lots going on, as always and so many things to record, so many more things to do, ones that need immediate attention, and ones that have been waiting patiently:

• Son turned 13 over the weekend and now am officially a mom of two teenagers and one toddler (is a 5 year who thinks she’s a teenager still called a toddler?)
• Never seen the son so excited about a birthday. Guy’s planned it out to the tee with the help of his sister and we have been asked to provide food and shelter for the loud 13 year old guests. Manage-able is what I think.
• I became an aunt again! My niece appeared over the week after much apprehension and now I can’t wait to see her. Thanksgiving would have been a good time to visit, but driving along the interstate on a long weekend has never been a favorite, so maybe we won’t. A tad disappointing.
• It’s heartening to see the daughter get into the spirit of “track”. Conditioning, and sprints, workouts and abs training, – everyday, a part of the routine to build stamina, energy and spirit. A decision am glad I nudged her into and something she’s warming up to – a lifestyle sport – that’s what I’d like to call it.
• Days are running into weeks, and the year is slowly coming to an end. So many little clips fly past within earshot. Vacations are being planned, flights are being booked, the mood is setting in, and there is an apprehension in the air. One that I always face, what with not knowing what to do with ourselves.
• Am hoping to stick to the gym again. Winter somehow seems to motivate me more than the nicer weather of summer/fall. It’s cold, dreary and dark, yet, I’ve managed to haul myself despite the tight evening schedules. I’ll see how long I last.
• The to-do list is growing too long. So long, that I threw one away and started afresh, hoping I’d be able to cut back some of them or better yet, forget them, but the sneaky things crept back right in!
• I so badly wanted to take my camera and get some fall shots, but the one weekend I could, it was raining and cold, and the next day the leaves turned brown. Disappointing, now I need to go find some winter shots. Hope it rains ice this winter! Oh okay, at least once? So I can get those stalagmites. stalactites!
  
• Was planning on doing a photo calendar as gifts for family. Any good recommendations?
• Why doesn’t it ever feel good no matter what decision one takes with respect to work-life balance? As much peace as I make with it, there’s always a pang, a shortcoming, a feeling of unfairness. As a friend humorously put it “we are never really happy in whatever situation we are put in. maybe that’s what keeps us going?” I agree.
• I feel lackadaisical. Maybe it’s the winter blues. Which also explains why am sleeping a lot. Hibernation.
• When you leave a voice message (which I rarely do), what do you expect the person to do? Call back? Without listening, or after listening. Write or text back saying – okay, got it, bla bla, and then some kind of action, or reaction based on the voice message? Ever heard of “I heard your voice message. It’s nice.” ? Yeah, I got that. Nice? Really?! Made me wonder if I unwittingly sang a song or something? In a way am flattered, maybe my voice does sound melodious after all! ;-)..and o, am still waiting for the call back. Something tells me it ain’t happening any time soon.

Was having a brilliant day. I’d just dropped off a big regular bowl of Thai Curry soup at a colleague’s place as she was down with sniffles and not at work, as the poor thing lives alone. It’s a cold, blustery, rainy day outside. Got myself a small bowl of it and just dug into it, when I realize I have new mail. It’s from the HR lady asking me to drop by.

A little background and a little more specifics for Thursday, the day of this event:

I work near DC. It’s a small company, and though the number of employees are substantial, minimal folks show up at work. I have to. [Don't ask, that would make a different rant post by itself.] I don’t meet clients on  regular basis, and though clients do show up at work, they hardly come over to our side (again, can’t explain). The CEO/President is not at work, and apart from the HR lady, there’s no one else from top management on site. My manager is in, but we do not have any scheduled meetings today and she’s in her own office, far from mine.

A little background on me:

I would like to believe am well dressed and groomed. Not perhaps the most stylishly dressed on this side of the country/company (am surrounded by single women in their mid-late 20’s in size 2’s and 4’s so give me a break), but am no sloth. I believe that clothes and a personal sense of style makes a man (woman) stand out, more so in professional settings than personal.  I also believe that before one can open their mind, mouth and prove their worth, their clothes and how they carry themselves sets the tone – first impressions and all that.

Also, I have waited a long time, a very long time to get myself some smart business attire in my closet as I have stayed home with the kids much longer than I expected. So yes, I enjoy wearing good clothes and especially like how I feel in them.

Thursday right after lunch:

The HR lady calls me over to give me a condescending “o-u-truant-little-middle-schooler” look while she informs me that I am in jeans and that company policy does not allow that!

I look at her with a “Are YOU FRIKKIN KIDDIN’ me?” and as am put on a spot get defensive and explain why am in jeans. I feel like an idiot now, but am partly relieved I wasn’t getting fired or being pulled up for printing some secure document off the common printer or some such higher level of truancy! The very first time, I rush to work in what am wearing while I drop munchkin off at 7:30 in a great rush and then try and beat the goddamn traffic so I can make it on time to work, and I get this thrown at my face. I tell her that. She nods, and continues with her perfect little arched eyebrow still hung on her forehead “Okay, yes, but it’s policy.” (My day starts at 5:45, and am not sitting still until I rest my bottom while I drive 24 miles up to work, after I rush the kids off into their respective buses at 7:30 am.)

The jeans were dark washed, clean and new. No tears, rips, no visible cheeks of any kind seen. I am wearing a lovely white blouse with a red sweater on top. I had my neat little black heels on. I could go visit the Royal Philharmonic and the usher wouldn’t bat an eyelid. I’ve been to concerts and I know.

The manager agrees with the HR, raises her voice, and then goes contrite and gives me a hug, saying “don’t take it personally, it’s policy.”

All I say is: “considering the fact that I’ve been with the company awhile, and considering that this has been the single most rare occasion when I’ve not been ‘perfectly dressed” to sit in my quiet corner and tap at the keys while the office looks like it’s a graveyard, and that I wasn’t meeting clients, and that no one was expected either, I’d have expected a casual mail, a passing by comment in the lines of “hey, I see you are in jeans, it isn’t Friday, so could you be careful next time?” – I get this.

The icing on this cake is that the husband agrees with the HR. Perfect. Expecting support from the spouse is being unrealistic of course.

So am wondering, am I bizarre or is this normal? ..and just to rub it in, please tell me, what are you wearing at work, and what’s the policy at your place? Add in the approximate geographic area you are from too if you don’t mind?

..and you thought I was doing the cheesy chat opener didn’t ya?

29 days of giving: Read here for more information, background on the initiative, and if you’d like to join.

This is the 29gifts.org site.

Something I fell upon quite some time ago and the thought on habit-forming 21 days struck a parallel. The site seems to be growing large since couple of months. The project is thoughtful and aims to make a difference one day at a time, and hoping by the end of the 29 days, the act of ‘giving’ has become a habit.

I’d earlier talked about givers. It is indeed a dwindling number. Giving without expectations is hard, but do-able once gets into your sub-conscious stream. It comes from good upbringing, from happy families, from secure childhood and environments and being content within ourselves. Compassion and the drive to give something wholeheartedly.

A good pertinent question is : Why should I give in the first place, never mind giving selflessly?

Honestly? I don’t know. It’s just one of those things that feels ‘right’. Not to score brownie points with your consciousness, or higher powers, but there is something to be said of the smile that your heart wears once it’s done giving. The idea is to get the heart to sing and it does when you see the happiness that your act of giving has lit. There’s tons of reasons on the web if you just look. Altruism has health benefits as the research says.

I’ve always thought that I was a giver, I tend to gift without rhyme or reason and almost always share whatever I have with me. Something that has been brought to my attention over a few years and even have asked to grow “smart”, to not give unless asked, and not to give when it seems pointless. How does one know it’s pointless? When the heart doesn’t sing, perhaps?

Recently someone I hold close to my heart told me that I love to guilt folks, by constantly cribbing and whining and complaining on them not meeting expectations. That I can never be pleased. Really? Do I? I wondered after I hung up, shocked. Happiness is instantaneous, but anything downhill, has this ugly tendency to creep up on you and then completely soak you, to marinate you in it till that’s pretty much what you taste of.

It pricked. However, I wanted to give it a fair appraisal. Perhaps my giving was tainted after all? Maybe I was expecting something in return? Consciously and as honestly as I can say all that I expected in return was a smile and a happiness that I had reached out, and perhaps an acknowledgment. But then not everyone can look at an act the way it was meant to be understood by the initiator. Hence there is a dialog on the why, what and how of the act.

That brought the question of expectations after an act of giving.

So ultimately, I come up with this question: Is there an act out there that does not have an expectation attached to it? There should be. I’ve known it, and have been at both ends of it, more on the giving than receiving, but it exists.I know. I just need to make it mainstream, coz I know there is immense happiness when one reaches out, and happiness is addictive. Figured why not make in conscious and see if it makes a difference, if not to me, to 29 different folks out there.Doubt I’d blog everyday, but it will get recorded somewhere. Maybe on my page there, maybe here, maybe once a week, I don’t know, I still haven’t figured that part out.

I have always believed that a small gesture goes a long way in making a difference in someone’s life, their day. To stay resilient and to continue to give despite its acceptance or not (there’s a fine line of passive aggression or encroachment, one needs to balance of course) and to do it elegantly, quietly and wholeheartedly. It takes patience and practice.

If you are so inclined and would like to give this some fair thought and perhaps even get started on it, here’s a video that should answer some of your basic questions.

Being on various cold medications since the first weekend of October has its repercussions. Broncho dilators, as sweet as their original call of duty is, inadvertently are also vaso constrictors. Less blood flowing around leaves one feeling drained and sapped out. Breathing shallow or  not, while the antibiotic fights valiantly at the plethora of bacteria festering inside your sinuses, the body succumbs to all those gears shifting inside.

War will take its captives in all forms.

The physical line of defense, the drain from the limbs, the voice, the eyes, and ultimately the mind.

The mind still thinking it’s the boss of it all, continues to trick itself.

Humor chugs along till it gives up too.

I drove in to work today and after scavenging remnants of energy from the some hidden pockets, and hoping that a little creative surge would help propel things along, I now sit here tapping slowly at the keys.

Am drained.

I feel the need to give up. Holding on is just not much of a challenge anymore.

Physically at all that bind me down to this life, and emotionally on all whom I hold on to dearly.

..and I thought only viruses could do that to you! This bacteria seems quite virulent.

With halloween coming up tomorrow, I was torn between posting this fun ‘ghost’ song from the telugu movie – Geetanjali

and the scores of ghost songs and movies on the paranormal that bollywood produces, loves and thrives to a large extent. This song, however captures the essence of how the western world makes fun of the ones that cause nightmares and cold sweats.

Playing dress up is so much fun and we most certainly enjoy it as a family. Every year all of us at home make an effort to put on a wig, some paint or something comical to be someone else. Since a couple of years, the older kids are on their own, putting costumes together by just being necessary accessories than buying a whole costume kit. The munchkin has been a ladybug, a princess, a tinkerbell and this year declared she wanted to be a vampire. Till last evening when she says quite nonchalantly over dinner:

Mom, I think I changed my mind. I am going to be a fairy for halloween.

Daughter declares: Yes, mom, I need a tiara and those long white gloves, am going for this halloween party and am being a princess. Then she chuckles.

Son: Mommmy! I donno what to be for halloween, and o btw, should I be going to Francoise’ party?

Daughter: *bursting into giggles* Just go as yourself. She’ll like it.

Son decides he needs another day. His choices are “Illegal immigrant” ; “Nerd”; “Poor Indian Graduate Student (basically jeans and bata chappals – husband’s pictures from his school times helped) and “himself”

Mom has to scuttle to get those fairy wings and the white gloves and in the bargain decides she’d pick up a pitchfork. A long bought red horns, a pitchfork and a red fishnet stockings to go witha  red and black gown will be her cotume for tomorrow.

Definitely not as fun as being Joker of last year!

Husband decided he’d play the ‘man of the house’. In other words, responsible, mature and dressed in his own sensible self. Someone needs to be the guardian after all.

In teh meanwhile, last week we got “‘boo’d” – it’s a neighborhood fun tag. You pick a home, land some candy at their doorstep, and they pass it along to two other homes. Like creep up to their home in the dark and ring the doorbell and RUN! No one should know who tagged whom and you place a sign on yoru door stating you got ‘BOO-d’ Nice? As daughter helped explain to us in her usual satire: “Mom, we are finally accepted into the community! Hurrah!”

Here’s our boo bags and instructions, I thought it was a nice touch.

So what are you doing for halloween? It’s Saturday, though there could be some rain out here. No party, but I’l be dressing up as the devil (actually that should take no effort, coz well, am quite teh devil myself!) and hand them out goodies.

to posting every day:

1. Write at your choice of quiet times – it’s nights for me.
2. Write about everyday stuff, ones you can relate to, it’s a while lot easier than laboring through some thesis or political notion (unless that’s your thing)
3. Write small if necessary, every post doesn’t have to be a masterpiece (not that anyone’s aiming for even one!)
4. Create a schedule if that helps, like every Friday as a song day, or a joke day to end the week on a fun note or every Tuesday as a tag day (I got rid of 3!)
5. Write about current events. Every day the newspaper is full of whats happening at your neck of the woods: pick one that you can relate to.
6. Write about a forgotten art form, tradition or a ritual that you once took part in and don’t anymore. Better yet, write about a family tradition, based on culture or just something that you’ve started.
7. Bursts of writing happen, while some days are bleah. When you do feel chatty, write more than 1 post, and if you have a tendency to ramble, break it down!
8. post an interesting picture you took or saw, your take on it. Make it your own, add a dimension to it, the effort shows.
9. Write a review of a book, movie, a play or even of a product you’ve used. Once again, add your voice to it.
10. Always schedule ahead. Helps lessen stress (frankly, if blogging’s a hobby, there shouldn’t be, but if we are committed to wanting to post every day, it helps to plan ahead). I’d scheduled all my tags (Tuesdays) and the Friday (song) ones. Set it to post at the same time everyday. Consistency is a good thing when you are doing a series such as this.

Write freely, write for yourself (not always for your readers or entertainment value), and write what you are most familiar with. When one labors through a passage, it shows. Lessen expectations for yourself, not every post need be your best, it is practice that helps in the long run, and most importantly, make your posts yours. It should be distinct and spell a style that’s uniquely you.

If you can’t post everyday, give yourself a break and take that break. This isn’t a do or die, but more to exercise your writing skills. Whoever said ‘practice makes perfect’ surely knew his stuff.

The more you write, the better you get at it, even if you weren’t really trying!

today’s post – tactile -  is here.

the breed’s on the decline. rapidly. i speak of the ones that can give with the slightest hint of ‘need’ or ‘want’, the ones that can give without expectations, and the ones that thrive on ‘giving’.

i speak of simpler stuff that our everydays are made of.

smile, a kind word, a thoughtful gesture, a moment to stop and enquire.

i speak more of the art of giving without being asked.

someone tells me it’s a sign of weakness – to show that you care, that you are capable of giving and that stopping to do so only reveals a vulnerable side.

then again, have you noticed how when one does ‘give’ – literally, palm over palm, just because we are a visual clan and visual cues almost always helps light those ways; the act of giving always hints of a larger heart, person, character?

so no i don’t have the h1n1. i don’t even have the flu.

it’s just the damned sinuses again. they love me so much they’ve come back with a vengeance.

my head’s bursting at the temples, the eyes burneth, the throat’s raw and itchy, the voice is lost somewhere, there’s a rasping cough and my legs feel like lead – and the lady says i have sinusitis. nothing else. bah. all this after i drive myself precariously and gingerly drive the 3 miles to the doc’s. i mean, i even stopped at the yellow and behaved and didn’t jump the light.

so yes, am on Azithromycin – weird dosage – it’s an ugly large pill that tastes like cardboard, no matter how pink it looks. am also on this Cheratussin – cough syrup, clear liquid that is deceptively lethal in how it tastes.

the doc then lowers her voice and whispers conspiratorily: am giving you the one with codeine in it!’

the mom does need her drugs.

hallelujah.

next time, the pharmacists asks “any questions” , what do you do?

ask her? don’t.

coz i did, and she said ‘the directions are at the back’.

great. i know how to read and no am not visually impaired.

in the 15 minutes it took for them to fill in (i made a special request and declared that am dying and can’t stand idling the motor in the parking lot) i went over to the grocers and picked up some soup and salad. people stared at me as i plodded along doing the slowmo. like am in a 1930’s black and white movie and they were all the jetsons.

so anyways, being sick is no fun. am not going in to work tomorrow either. even if my head feels lighter. just for kicks.

ps: i actually wrote this sitting in the parking lot on the WP app. then I said ’save’ and it supposedly ’saved’ I have no idea where. couldn’t find it anywhere, so typed it again. feeling a bit peppy after that cough syrup.

not anymore. i retire.

ta!