Feal the fear

"Do the thing you fear most and the death of fear is certain." - Mark Twain

I don't think I believed in this statement entirely until recently - my mother however, was a staunch believer. It was the time when those scary movies for kids (how politically incorrect is that?) were quite common; the ones - where toys would turn into ghosts at night and teddy bears would come to life. My sister and I would watch those movies covering our faces with our hands; we would obviously, leave a tiny hole to peek through. We would sit through the entire movie, and of course being just 7-9 years olds, we'd be awfully scared at night! Tears were involved. 

We were suffering from Lygophobia. This was when our cruel mother would take us out in the dark - one by one - with our 'scary' teddy bears and leave us there until we stopped weeping and were almost comfortable. Thanks to that, both my sister and I managed numerous night camps, walks through the jungle, cycling at night and were never again afraid of the dark or of teddy bears for that matter. Turns out mom wasn't so horrible after all.  

That was Lygophobia - fear of the dark. 

Let me move on to Acrophobia. Most people suffer from a certain degree of acrophobia - it might not be enough to dissuade someone from buying a ridiculously gorgeous penthouse on the 25th storey; but it might not be the topmost preference for all. I fall in the latter category. I was about 8 (yes I had a tough childhood!) when my dad ordered me to jump from 3 m high plank; into the swimming pool of course! Being an army officer - he's quite fierce by nature, but I would rather risk being in his whom-to-scold-today list than make the jump. Over the years - my this fear subsided, yet I wanted to go a step beyond to prove this to myself. Last year I did a Bungee Jump! Yes, it was scary but I'm proud to have tried it. Two more bungee jumps and then I shifted to sky diving. Why try it thrice? I believe that all new things must be done thrice - once, to get over the fear, twice to learn how to do it, and the third time to figure our whether you like it or not.

Thalassophobia - fear of deep sea. This was a big one especially right after watching Deep Blue Sea where Sharks would come out of nowhere and rip the actors apart. I was always fond of playing in open waters - but fear of being pulled down by a blue whale or getting caught by an octopus always was at the back of my head. I managed to put a brave face though. So, this year - since I had some money to invest - I decided to try deep sea diving. I panicked for the first couple of minutes (or maybe more than a couple of minutes) but in the end, I loved it. The simple fact that I'd be exploring the rest of the 70% of the planet that was under water was more appealing to me than the fear of being ripped apart. Alright, that's not entirely true... I still keep a lookout for those sharks!

What I realized from my experiences over the years is - Fear is a part of everyone's life that we experience on a daily basis! In our culture, fear is experienced as negative and is seen as a shortcoming. However, in my case, it has been quite the opposite and I feel a lot better by simply allowing myself to embrace the fear fully. I have decided to always face my fear and let is pass over and through me. Because once the fear has gone, there will be nothing... only I will remain.

The Big Fat Indian Weddings Gone Slim?

A few days ago, as I sat on the bed watching my grandmother chop the vegetables, I asked her the instigating question – How was your wedding? What followed was an hour, or so it seemed, of stories, gossip and the anticipated ‘those were the days’ dialogue at regular intervals. My fault.

Talk to any grandmom and she’ll echo the same.

Makes you ponder whether the weddings in the good old days really more memorable? Much has changed over the last few decades, including the freedom to choose a partner, but we’ll ignore that for a minute, shall we?

One apparent difference that comes to mind is the duration of wedding celebrations. Back in the time, when the world was not so competitive, when most women were home bound, when distances were traveled on foot, the celebrations would last a minimum of 10-15 days. This was the time when people cared enough. Not only to be part of the celebrations but also to share the responsibilities. This was the time when people suddenly decided to have a sleepover, and it was not frowned upon but welcomed with a genuine smile. This was the time when people took a moment and breathed.

Today, the celebrations spread not over 3 days. The guests are humbly booked a 5-Star hotel for their stay. They wouldn’t expect anything less either. They care enough to be part of the wedding, but maybe not enough to share the responsibilities?

Singing, dancing and more singing dominated practically the entire 15 days of frolic. Dusk to dawn. Dawn to dusk. Women will sing their tradition songs. Tease the bride or the groom. Dance on the beats of dholki. Drink tea after every two hours. Sleep in one room, 20 of them. Wake up the next morning and repeat the routine. The D-day arrives. All rituals are performed in a plain simple manner. Time when bride departs is the only time all had tears in their eyes. This was earlier.

Now, the 15 days of singing, dancing and more singing is compressed into a day of Sangeet. Selected friends and family put up a performance that is followed by drinking and dancing by all close relatives. It falls just a little short of a clubbing night. No one sings, thanks to DJs. Traditional songs are forgotten. The night lasts for as long as the venue is paid for. The guests then head back to their respective 5-Stars. The D-day arrives. Rituals are now performed exuberantly, courtesy Bollywood. Much attention is paid to who’s wearing what, how good are the arrangements and how much would it have cost. The bride happily says her goodbyes.

Receptions are another thing.

During my parents’ reception, they met, socialized and got to know the other’s family. They, till date, have some amazing stories to tell us from that day. Reception meant much more back then.

Today it means a stage. A stage where the couple sits, flashing their smiles as all relatives come up, one by one, and get themselves clicked with the couple. The ones clicking are 5-7 cameramen with bright lights. They, however, do much more than clicking. They embarrass the newly-weds by pressurizing them to make silly poses and hold the pose till the picture is worthy. It’s not a reception anymore, a photo session more like. The only solace is that the temperament of love today still supersedes the melancholy of photo sessions and materialism as a whole.

The weddings today are gaining more popularity. They are loud and seemingly more festive with all the lights and decorations. However, it was the memorable weddings from grandma’s age that gave prefixes like – big fat – to the Indian weddings. What contributed to them becoming famous were the simplicity, care and love of everyone. The impact of it is so deep embedded that it has laid a foundation that would not be forgotten. Not in my lifetime.

What is your religion?

I was born on 7th January 1987 into a loving Indian family and by default into a religion too. Pooja ceremony followed soon after and there were several more rituals henceforth. This was nothing out of the ordinary for, probably the entire world.

My childhood was nothing less than a childhood.

It had love. A caring dad who held my hand before I could fall. A benevolent mother who smiled even through the tough times. A mushy sister for whom I was a baby doll. A few dogs with their unconditional affection.

It had fun. Locking mom in the bathroom when only 3. Soaking clothes in water when mom had just finished drying them. Scarring dad and failing miserably each afternoon when he returned. Painting faces, soiling ourselves, breaking things and then hiding... And several friends to share those times with.

It had danger. Tumble down from the 1st story and rushing to the hospital when 4. Getting into an accident while crossing road and rushing to the hospital when 5. Shoving a crayon up my nostril and rushing to the hospital at 6. All of them, true stories.

It also had religion.

Do wrong and God will punish you. Be nice to all and He will reward you. He doesn't like kids who lie and adores those who are polite. Perseverance is paid for by Him for He doesn't help the lazy children. And most importantly He protects you from the ghosts, which are of course, everywhere!

In retrospect, it's a brilliant concept. A concept to teach children the basic values in life. Not only does it coerce them to follow the right path, but also makes a permanent mark in their minds. A permanent mark, of both - the right morals and God.

Without the fear of God, I might not respect my parents as much. Without the feeling of protection by God, I might still be scared of the dark. Without the punishing powers of the God, I might be a hypocrite. Without the love of God, I might be a bitter person. Without… the concept of God.

It's the year 2012 now, and I'm not a child anymore.

I no longer believe that going to temples will help me with my life crisis. I fail to understand why people donate money to idols. I refuse to acknowledge temples, churches, mosques that are built at every two steps. I take no pride in being part of a ritual that would only serves as an impediment. I am appalled by the billions being spent in the name of God. I can distinguish fact from fiction.

Say I'm wrong and God is not just a concept, would He mind if you don't fast on Mondays or if you don't pray to Him daily? I don't think He will.

That being said, I would like to establish - I am religious.

I educate poor children. I provide shelter to stray animals. I save dying birds. I help an old person cross the road. I give water to a thirsty person. I enjoy grandma's stories. I respect and treat everyone as equal. I smile when someone needs it. I hug with all honesty. I make time. I listen with my heart. I care with my soul. In return I get unconstrained and immeasurable love.

This very love gives me the fortitude to follow the right path.

This love is my strength. This love is my God. This, is my religion.

What's yours?