Khuli Tizori,Khuli Bottle Aur Khuli Ladki

Often India is perceived to be a chauvinistic country where women are suppressed,even in a society which is transcending into a quasi-Western society. The incident on 16 December 2012 was just a case which was reported and emphasised by the media, but the incident was never to be,and should never be, seen in isolation. It was just the eruption of people’s anguish at the extraordinarily brutal,disgusting and appalling sexual assault cases this nation sees. Yet, this entry is not about rape or sexual assault. It doesn’t seek to justify anything and shall not justify itself.It is just a unique,different opinion I stumbled upon,and shall narrate further.

I was travelling to Bandra via an auto rickshaw whose number plate read MH 02 UA 6055. I, as usual had my earphones plugged in and wasn’t bothered in the slightest.”Aaney waley saal mein isse bhi zzyada chota ho jayega” muttered the auto wala in a mixture of disgust and anger. I glanced in the direction of his face and saw a girl wearing a red top and denim blue shorts.Admittedly she looked what people call “hot” but I also admit that I hadn’t noticed her until he pointed her out to me.I prepared myself for a chauvinistic lecture and was not disappointed.But for the first time,I saw the deep revulsion to women exposing their legs being rooted in genuine concern and almost banal fears. “Ladka ladki key paer ghoorta rahega aur wahan gaadi thook jayegi”. His concern was not for the fact that a girl was exposing her legs(as most conservatives).His disapproval was rooted in a sense of safety.How do I know this?Well for starters,he never mentioned anything that insults women although he might have been guilty of talking about them in a manner which on extremely critical observation can be termed insulting.Rather he actually demonstrated how shameless a man can be.

As we progressed towards our destination at snail’s pace,he actually pointed out a bunch of rowdy looking males in cheap formal clothes who were grinning at the girl like a wolf glares at a lamb. “Saley haramiyon ko dekho” he said as he pointed at them. Then he went on to tell me some of his deep life philosophies. “Mard chutiya hota hai.Uski niyaat teen cheezon ko dekh ke hamesha fisalti hai. Khuli tizori,khuli bottle aur khuli ladki.Chor ke saamne paise rakho toh woh haath zaroor marega.Piyakard ke saamne bottle rakho,toh woh piyega zaroor.Ayaash mard ke saamne khuli ladki rakho,uski niyaat tharak dikhayegi.” It translates to ” Man is an asshole. His dignity or his honour always slips at seeing three things. An open safe, an open bottle(I presume alcohol) and an open girl. Keep cash in front of a thief and his hands will obviously steal. Keep a bottle in front of a drunkard and he obviously will drink.Keep a girl in attractive clothing in front of a randy man, his soul is bound to turn playboyish”.

He was about to say some more but I reached my destination and I got off.I paid him the fare and bid him farewell,and for a few moments stared at the auto going off.He stopped ,picked up an aunty in a blue salwaar kameez who had hailed him over and drove off.

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Dhen Chu Bhaiya


This is the tale of a little boy from the city of dreams. For some peculiar reasons, people always tend to have either one of the two extreme possible ideas of a metropolitan. They’ll either imagine a pos, rich family with a father who earns more than he can spend, a suave new-age mother who watches Gray’s Anatomy instead of the useless nonsense on Star Plus, a son who studies Marx and Pounds alcohol with equal gusto and a daughter who harps over fashion and and goes crazy at the mention of how cute the new singer of some band is. Maybe throw in a pet. This is just one of the images. The other is of utter poverty where people barely have a meal to eat, let alone have savings. The mother looks like one of the patients on Gray’s while the son has only empty beer bottles to collect and dispose for money. The only fashion the daughter knows is that of the mistress’s daughter whose mother was kind enough to donate some clothes. Every stray animal is their pet. Most people classify the populace of a city into either of these two categories. This is the story of a boy who falls into neither but somehow is a reflection of both.

I met Soham/Akash( he kept alternating between the two, so I assume one was a nick name or a name used by close friends or relatives). It was a July afternoon in Mumbai, and it was pouring cats and dogs. Like every quintessential Mumbaikar, I wasn’t travelling with an umbrella.As a rule of thumb, I always stuck to a wind cheater if I was travelling within 4 stations of my house, and an umbrella for everything else. Borivali was close to Malad(by Bombay standards) so I had continued with my boycott of the umbrella but it wasn’t a decision I was particularly enjoying. Simply put, getting drenched in the rain, even with a wind cheater on, and trying to hail a rickshaw and not get pissed with each one that not only ignored me, but zipped past like a bullet, spraying me with the dirty water on the road. Suddenly, the last rickshaw which had done the same stopped roughly hundred meters ahead of me. A little kid hopped off with a thela in his hand and started running away.He had a pink umbrella and was wearing shorts,brownish-khaki in colour and a faded gray t-shirt which had black horizontal strips. I assumed that he had travelled his path and I rushed into the rickshaw. Out of curiosity, I asked the rickshaw wala bhaiya about the boy. He replied that the kid had just got onto the rickshaw a minute back but on seeing me, had asked him to stop and had gotten off. As shocked and touched I was, luckily I had the sense to be courteous enough and call the boy back. After some cajoling, I convinced him to let me drop him till Borivali station, which lay on my way home. As the rickshaw started, I looked at the boy. He appeared to be a curious little inquisitive kid, with the oily, mushroom shaped hair that only poverty begets. But the most arresting detail lay in his eyes. His eyes were yellow. Not the the rich, golden, flashy one but rather a shade that neared a dull ochre. But the dull colour was compensated by the shine in his eye as he talked about himself, and his life. In couldn’t learn much about him from the brief conversation we had, but all I know is this. Akash is a eleven year old boy who studies in the fourth grade of the local BMC school. He was on his way to Dadar, one of the most chaotic and busiest areas in Mumbai to buymogra flowers for a religious ceremony that was to happen at his home. I asked him why was he travelling so far just for some flowers. The smile on his face didn’t budge an inch as he replied “Bhaiya wahan saste mil jayenge.” . I gazed at him, wondering as to when was the last time I travelled kilometres in a stinky second class train compartment to buy something that was easily available, just because it was cheaper. I quickly hid my creeping blush behind my handkerchief, feigning a sneeze and changed the topic back to his education. He told me he learns English at school, but while he told me this, his eyes continued to stare in the direction of my phone, which had my earphones plugged in. I asked him what he wants to do when he grows up, and he replied without hesitating, “use a computer”. Again, I was puzzled and on some further probing I was informed about how his school authorities had told him that only people who pass their 12th grade exam can use a computer. I resisted my urge to laugh and simultaneously, cry. 


Before I could ask him anything else, his destination had arrived. He promptly took out an old ten rupee note, and before I could refuse it, thrust it in my hand and leapt off the rickshaw, and ran away shouting something which sounded like a common cuss word. Astonished, I turned to the rickshaw wala and began moaning about how kids these days don’t have respect for elders( forgive me, I had recently turned 18 so I believed myself eligible to do this). The uncle turned and replied, “Nahin Nahin beta woh toh dhanyavaad keh kengaya” . It took me a minute to figure out that the kid, who was perhaps the most admirable child I have ever seen, was just shouting “Then Chu Bhaiya”. The rain poured on, and the city moved on. But that expression of gratitude is still stuck in my head, and probably shall be, forever…

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Mistakes That Are Not

Cat Stevens is one of my favourite artists. His songs have an amazing earthly charm to them and I somehow connect to them. One of his masterpieces is a small track by the name “The Wind” which goes as follows

I swam upon the devil’s lake But never, never never never I’ll never make the same mistake No, never, never, never

The honesty behind this statement couldn’t be more deceived. All through our lives, we embark on thousands of tracks everyday, each one diverging into its own path.Sometimes the path breaks into a road of two and we somehow reach a moment when we ponder over the road not taken. That’s the brutally clear point when you realise that despite self assurances, advice from peers, family and friends, desperate cautionary measures and everything else, we make the same mistake ALWAYS.

Mind you these mistakes don’t matter much. They are as trivial as forgetting to carry a toothbrush on an overnight trip(Okay wrong example but you get the point).The thing about us humans is that we always rectify the supposedly high magnitude errors and let it be.We never take into account those chotu mistakes which cumulate to have a huge impact on us.Not necessarily in a negative way. 

Here’s an example.There’s this friend of mine who always forgets that he often falls asleep with his spectacles on.The poor chap wakes up most mornings with a near perfect vision courtesy those frames yet bound by innate habit, scrambles about his room for about 5 minutes before realising the truth.Technically this does count as a mistake and may not be life changing but never the less remains integral to the person as a whole.It becomes a part of his quirk as a whole and before you know it, it turns into the person himself rather than being a mistake.
I guess sometimes not all mistakes are wrong, or are even mistakes in the first place.It all boils down to perception.It’s your nazarriya that matters rather than the act itself.The classic Himalaya example is well, a classic example of this.
I admit this piece sounded more like a deranged teenager’s rant but it is one of the many pondering thoughts that bother me.Or rather bothered me.Wodhouse in his masterpiece Right Ho, Jeeves wrote “….The snag I always come up against when I’m telling a story is this dashed difficult problem of where to begin it.It’s a thing you don’t want to go wrong over, because one false step and you’re sunk.I mean, if you fool about too long at the start, trying to establish atmosphere, as they call it, and all that sort of rot, you fail to grip and the customers walk out on you.Get off the mark, on the other hand, like a scalded cat, and your public is at a loss.It simply raises its eyebrows, and can’t make out what you’re talking about

For this article, I think I just caught the latter one.Or the first. Or surprisingly both.


Clicked by Siddharth Gupta

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Don’t Try To Discover Your Passion!

This is a guest post by Deepak Mehra fondly called Nicky.Deepak Bhaiya is simply put,a rockstar.I have never had the opportunity to show him off, so today I will.He’s one of the coolest guys I know.He works at Citibank and is married to another of one of our guest post writer today,Moushmi Mehra.All my life,I have looked up to him and he and his family,actually it’s even my family, has always been there for me.So,cheers to my mentor and the real superhero!Also,here’s his Twitter handle @nickymehra (https://twitter.com/nickymehra)


Don’t try to discover your passion


Wait, what!? That’s crazy! Should Sachin Tendulkar have been a banker? Lata Mangeshkar a marketing executive?

God no, but I’m not saying don’t follow your passion. By all means, please do. If you already know what lights your fire, then you might as well stop reading this post, as may those who don’t believe in the concept of following your passion to begin with.

But read on if you are like I was (and scores of others I know). Frustrated and disillusioned because you’re worried you’re in the wrong train altogether. Acutely aware there are those blessed souls who know there isn’t another train they could even think of boarding.

What passion discovery process is not
Nobody is born with a special gene that pre-determines passion right at birth. False are the beliefs that our ‘true calling’ definitely is out there; close by, yet unseen by us, just waiting to be discovered… we just don’t know how to see it.

Passion is discovered thanks to (one or many of) a curious mind, willingness to do your best in whatever you’re doing (which opens doors you’d never even known existed), a visit to a museum, chance meeting of an excellent coach and mentor at Shivaji Park during childhood, or perhaps while watching a show on Discovery Channel. To be sure, exceptions to the genetics rule do exist (somewhat). Lata Mangeshkar probably wouldn’t have made it to the pinnacle of her profession without being blessed with that voice to begin with. But again, not every person with a good voice is a great singer or even passionate about singing.

The potent formula of discovering passion
The ‘true calling’ of the Sachins and Latas of this world poses as ‘inevitability’ and ‘prescience’ in our minds – taking them away from the reach of us commoners. In reality this ‘true calling’ is a fortuitous yet potent combination of

  • luck in something you really care about,
  • while being ready to seize the opportunity when it matters and
  • having the courage to follow it and persist, even if the going gets tough.

Poetic untruth or boring truth?
An adage that’s always served me well is ‘don’t seek a complicated explanation when a simple one exists’. We’re too prone to creating dramatic, coherent yet untrue stories in our minds from sparse data points. Instead, take a few moments to think things through and come up with a comprehensive picture which stands up to scrutiny.

It is very tempting to say Sachin met coach Achrekar because he was simply destined to become a great cricketer and leave it at that. Where’s the intriguing story (initially at least) in saying he was just lucky to meet a coach who just took a keen interest in a promising youngster? Where’s the drama in saying putting in those hours and hours toiling under the sun, perfecting his technique made him ready to seize the opportunity when it came knocking? And finally in acknowledging that it was just his courage to follow his passion and persist in the face of a society so punishing towards an individual trying to pursue sports (acutely more so back when he debuted) which completed the potent formula?

Fatalist not
If luck has such a big part to play, am I saying I advocate fatalism and trying to discover our passion is completely beyond our control? Absolutely not! There’s still a lot that we can and should do. Among several others: maintain a curious mind, be ready to visit new places, meet new people, expose ourselves to diverse perspectives, read good books… Basically, create as many valuable experiences for ourselves as possible. In doing so, we maximize our chances of becoming aware of our interests (easier said than done), while making ourselves ready to seize opportunities as they arise – and they do for everybody. Combine this with courage, and we have a winner!

Don’t worry, be happy
So stop fretting over discovering your passion, wasting precious time and depleting vital energy. Start living a million diverse, enriching experiences instead, so that fortune may be allowed to do its magic on somebody ready to discover his passion!


This post was inspired by an article from HBR, which can be found here.

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Things Puberty Teaches You And Things It Really Doesn’t

This is a guest post by Alaric Moras or commonly known by his pen name, The Observant Lefty.Now I asked him to write a bio for himself,and well the result was hilariously awesome!Here it goes


“Alaric Moras is a 17 year old writer who has interned at Youth Incorporated Magazine and The Times of India. He is the owner of the blog:http://observantlefty.wordpress.com/ and is presently completing his Second Year of Junior College, (SYJC- ARTS) in Saint Xavier’s College, Mumbai. He is most known for his writing, and lack of any other talents thereof. When he isn’t glued to his computer screen, he spends his time reading and studying, (the last activity performed three days or fewer before upcoming examinations).

Alaric chooses to speak in a dialect of his own creation, consisting of Hindi, English and Konkani melded together, with the suffix, ‘ness’ added to most verbs. He also writes for The Xavier’s College Xpress. His highest aspiration is to an editor at a world renowned magazine. He presently resides in Santacruz, Mumbai, India.”
You can find his blog here . Also,here’s his Twitter handle @alaricmoras (https://twitter.com/alaricmoras)

I was pleasantly surprised when I was asked to write for The Standing Coin’s one year anniversary and that SidG would think of me as one of the writers he knew who could perform this task in the first place. The Standing Coin has won numerous blogger awards, been mentioned in countless magazines and newspapers and is probably one of the most viewed blogs in Mumbai today. To me, it has become a sort of entity in itself, even managing to capture my rabbit like attention span and wielding an enormous following. Therefore, having my thoughts set against the shadow of such a giant is a hard task, but I will try my best.

Since I was told that I could write about anything that suited me, I choose to write about things that I feel I’ve learnt over the course of my teenage life. Here are some of the insights I’ve gained that I want to share with you all.

THINGS PUBERTY TEACH YOU:-

1.) Kissing does not make babies. It can, however, lead to chapped and sore lips and a variety of blemishes across your face. None of which I’ve experienced. Forever Alone is fun.

2.) Saying “yo” every three seconds will get you laughed at. Inventing your own words and using them freely however, doesn’t. “Me-ness” and being yourself is always fully and completely appreciated. Plus, it’s fun to be crazy.

3.)Being treated like a child by your parents never gets old. Relish the moment and know that for those two people, whatever you do will never make them hate you. Unless, ofcourse, you don’t clean your room and wash behind your ears.

4.) Relationships are like glass. When you break them, they… Well, they break. And someone will get hurt. Chocolate and peanut butter, however aren’t glass-like at all. Indulge and let yourself go. And most importantly, they will always love you in return.

5.) Touching members of the opposite sex is permitted. Not a lot. In moderation, of course. Like alcohol. Try keeping it at once or twice every 30 minutes or so. Safe zones are the non smooth areas. Just saying.
6.) Fitting in with the crowd makes you fade into the background. Always try and be yourself. Unless you like tasting human flesh. Then, try and be something a bit more normal.

7.) It’s called an ’embarrassing itch’ for a reason. But that’s where powder comes in. Jai ho, Johnson’s Baby Powder! No, seriously. Don’t leave without it.
8.) Don’t idealize things, relationships and people. Take everything as it comes and realize that life doesn’t always have to be structured and defined. Everything can just BE.

THINGS YOU THINK PUBERTY TEACHES YOU BUT REALLY DOESN’T:-

1.) Tying your shoe laces. I kid you not. When you’re twelve, this seems like some great new insight that turning thirteen will automatically impart to you. You learn it like everything else.

2.) Resisting bubble wrap. Face it, people: You are, and you always will be addicted to the goodness of bursting that little air pocket.

3.) How to say “no” when aunties bring out the sweets. When faced with gulab jamuns, rasgullas and jalebis, do not EVER think maturity will set in. In the face of oily loveliness, all of us are reduced to children.

4.) How to eat chips decently. Lays, Pringles, banana chips, whatever they maybe, we will always be animals when we consume them.

5.) How to wink cheekily without looking like a rapist. You thing growing a bit taller and having fuzz on your upper lip gives you swag? Sorry to burst your bubble; it really doesn’t. You will still look like you are a wild sex offender if you wink randomly at the ladies. Unless you are George Clooney.

6.) Grow the parts of yourself you want to and in the right order. No matter how hard you stare in the mirror, screw up your face and try to grow the parts of you that you want to grow in the right order, it will not happen. Trust me. I speak through lots of experience.

7.) Get rid of the imaginary talking voices. You kids out there who’ve watched Foster’s Home and lived with Imaginary Friends, don’t worry. They’ll never leave you, mainly because they fade into a host of annoying and whiny annoying voices in the back of your mind. And they have names. Shut UP, Charlie, I’m trying to concentrate here, God!

8.) Be the star of everything, always. No matter how cliched this sounds, you will always be popular among your own friends and you never need to work to be a people pleaser. You’re a great person, just the crazy, insane way you are.

Grinningly yous,

The Observant Lefty.

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Of K.F.C and Kids,A Day I Smiled

This is a guest post by Sridevi Nayak who is fondly called Sridu.She’s a bookworm like moi and is from Karnataka.She’s currently pursuing MA in Mass Communication.You can find her blog here . Also,here’s his Twitter handle @sridu_n (https://twitter.com/sridu_n)

Recently, I had visited K.F.C. restaurant with my 17-year-old sister. As usual, I asked her to place the order since there were many people in waiting line for their turn to come up. The restaurant was swarmed with the people. Whilst my sister was busy panning her eyes in the bulletin menu that hung up right in front of the customers, I was lost in thoughts to the engagements that needed my attention soon after we feed our stomach. Suddenly, my thoughts were disturbed by a small kid who nudged me and went ahead to join his father who was in the reception counter to place their order. I assumed he must have felt intimidated with huge number of people. The little boy with red shirt printed with the cartoon of Sponge Bob, went to his father to enquire about status and availability of the chicken wings and his favorite beverage. He spoke to his dad as if he was mad at him for not getting back to the table with the order. Later he looked at me adjusting his spectacles and apologized for rushing towards me before. I smiled and accepted his apology. I held his tiny hands with mine and asked for his name and his school that he attend. He took a deep breath and with a serious tone, he replied his name, which I have forgotten now and he studies from the school which is well known in my hometown. He studies in the same school where I studied and he put me into a nostalgic mode. I started reminiscing my school days and was wondering how small the world is. We meet people and somewhere we might be connected, and this connection helps us in smiling. In the meanwhile, my sister was done with the order at the reception counter and I had to bid a farewell to the kid. He obliged saying it was a pleasure for us to meet. I was stunned to see such mannerism from a little notorious boy. He later rushed towards his seat, hugged a girl, and planted a kiss on a girl’s cheek who I presumed to be his sister. I continued with my sister narrating the whole event that just happened a while ago. We both later returned home but I was still enthralled with the way the kid spoke to me at the end of our conversation because I have never interacted with any kids except him in such manner. Usually kids run when you say bye but this kid was different, he spoke like a gentleman speaks. I am sure, when he grows up, he will surely be a fine man for his behavior. With this assurance, I slipped into a deep sleep to conquer another day filled with more surprises to come on my way.

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The Pursuit Of HappYness

This is a guest post by Moushmi Mehra .Moushmi Bhabhi is married to one of our guest post writers today,Deepak Mehra.She’s the most recent member of one of the families I love the most,but she,like all of them is simply AWESOME.Beside all other things,I love her for one particular thing.She gifted me one of her favourite books,which has now joined my list as well.The book taught me a lot,change me and made me whatever I am. In fact,it continues to do so.The book was The Fountainhead by Ayn Rand(LINK). So here is an enthralling post by the person who changed my life,simply with a book. Also,here’s his Twitter handle @MoushmiMehra (https://twitter.com/MoushmiMehra)

I recently quit working at a software company. Reason? I fortunately realized that I wasn’t enjoying it as much as I would have wanted to after all. Thought of using the time at hand now to begin a long-postponed quest – answers to my questions about a rather elusive, much hyped topic Happiness! No I don’t wish to emulate Gautam Buddha, Mahavir and the likes.. well just yet.. but have struggled with these questions way too long for my comfort. My priorities so far, albeit mistaken priorities, allowed an at-best half-hearted attempt to find these answers. The result, quite obvious, I struggle to date.

They say, don’t seek a complicated explanation when a simple one exists! How very true! I began my search by looking for books, articles, people.. anything under the sun that would give me even the slightest hint to what happiness really is? Of course I would need a lot of material to really understand the concept of Happiness I thought. And how wrong was I!

I was lucky to stumble upon a series of talks by an organization called ‘Brahmakumaris’. I occasionally listen to them on TV, mainly one Brahmakumari (BK) Sister Shivani who I personally think is a wonderful orator. Lucky for me, this series was by her.

I remember the first time I saw her on TV. Her attire gave me the impression that this is yet another Swamini giving hard to follow talks on morals, ethics.. all those heavy topics I have hated listening to. But hearing her speak just once changed my impression completely. She had me glued to the television and how? By speaking in extremely simple language, yes, but more importantly, talking sense; sharing thoughts and ideas to deal with situations that are extremely easy to digest and seem to be doable by laymen. So anyway.. with a lot of hope I started listening to all the lectures one after the other and boy was I shocked to hear what I did.

Firstly, what is happiness? Happiness, she says, is a state of being stable; not excited, not thrilled, not laughing all the time, not a temporary sense of pleasure; a state of being at peace with oneself; a state dependent only my own internal being; a state completely in one’s own control.

Our happiness is in our control? What really? That is not possible! Personally, I have always felt happy only let’s say when I achieve something.. be it a material possession, the great score on a test, when someone says something nice to me. But I don’t seem to play the central role in any of this; I don’t seen to be the do-er. These are all external events which may, may not happen. I therefore may, may not be happy. Isn’t it? It depends on my luck and fate?

She demystified her statement by saying that it is me who makes my happiness dependent on these events. I create a thought in my head, if event A will happen, then I will be happy. Fortunately if event A does happen, I will be happy. But for how long? This will be a temporary state because very soon I will decide to be happy next only when event B will happen.

Whoa! How very true! I began rushing with the lectures a bit. I was too intrigued by now. More and more questions started popping in my head. Why are we subjecting ourselves to such pockets of happiness? Can we actually be happy always?

This was answered in the very next talk. A very fresh perspective.. I am a happy person already she says; irrespective of the situations coming my way. We just chose otherwise.

For example, many of us have the tendency to blame others for our unhappiness. To this she said, we have no control over what others are doing but our reaction to it is our choice. If we give a person the power to hurt us, upset us then we need to take the responsibility for it because we are letting that person disturb our state of mind. Alternatively, if we decide to accept people around us with their fallacies and decide to not get affected by them, if we decide to be at peace anyway, we would retain complete control over our happiness.

This seemed very very comforting. Easier said than done I thought. But then it occurred to me. What if I repeat this to myself day in and day out.. I am a happy being. My happiness lies only in my hands. Is it possible that it will become part of my system? It is just about changing a deep rooted belief system at the end of the day, isn’t it? If so far we have convinced ourselves that happiness is external, can we spend the rest of our life convincing ourselves that it is in fact internal? I am sure it won’t take so long.. but even if it does, doesn’t the thought of moving in this direction itself contribute to our peace of mind?

I haven’t completed the series yet but picked up some huge pointers and tips already.

To be happy, be in the present moment. When I heard BK Shivani say this I was like.. not again!! To give you a background to this reaction, I have read quite a few self-help books (all in the attempt to find my answers mind you) and they all insist that one must be in the present; in the NOW. I never really understood why. But listening to these lectures I realized that I have convinced myself that I am unhappy in the present moment, well more often than not. A very natural outcome is that I start doing one of the following:

I fleet to the past. I start thinking of happier times when the situation was not like the current one. For some time this takes my mind off the present and gives me a sense of pleasure. But for how long? Very soon I am back seeing the present right in front of me.

Another reaction is to start imagining a future when the situation is not as bad as the current one. Again, for some time this takes my mind off the present and gives me a sense of pleasure. I am thinking of how life will be one day and I begin to feel very very “happy”? But for how long? Very soon I am back seeing the present right in front of me.

Let’s try a brand new outlook. What if I could look at reality right in the face, decide that it will not bog me down and deal with it like a man? Do whatever it takes to set things right NOW and be at peace, be stable, be happy NOW? Just take a moment here and think about this. Is it possible? Can we try and do this for lasting happiness instead of deceiving ourselves into temporary pleasures of the past and future?

I am convinced that this is not simple on the face of it but.. only because it is not a way of life for us yet. But the day it becomes? I think managing to do this even once will give us enough motivation, courage and strength for future trials and tribulations awaiting us. I see it this way, dealing successfully once with a tough situation at hand will build enough mettle in me for the next one down the road, similarly for the next situation and so on and so forth!

This seems like a technique to everlasting happiness to me and it seems too simple! Funny thing, just to be sure, I started second guessing this conclusion; I tried hard to see flaws in these deductions – a common attitude with my generation I guess. But couldn’t find any. Could you?

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