Older and/or wiser?

I was at a birthday party a few weeks ago. While the birthday girl was turning two, the audience had members ranging from 0 to 80. And in keeping with the times, the proud parents had organized an MC of sorts to keep things lively. One silly quiz where every right answer won a prize included this trick question "What is the only thing that only goes up and does not come down?" I thought real estate in Hyderabad was the right answer but turns out that the correct response was "age".

As you grow older by a year with each birthday, accumulate knowledge and gray hair, the question that you are faced with is "Are you wiser, now that you are older?" It is a difficult question to answer. Youth and maturity do not necessarily mean foolishness and wisdom, respectively. There is no miraculous "Eureka" moment when you become a gorgeous swan from the ugly duckling you thought you were. There is no halo around your head to signify enlightenment. Perhaps there is a gentle blunting of the rough edges, a more tolerant approach to the vagaries of everyday life, a greater appreciation what you have. There is no internal fount of wisdom even though there is a great tendency to lecture others (particularly your own kids). So what does all the experience of living really bring?

I have found that while I may not have "Eureka!" moments, I do have my "Aha!" moments. The primary difference among the two is that Archimedes eureka transformed the scientific world, my "Aha' moment is uniquely beneficial only to me. It means I have made a connection, understood something that previously was an enigma and as a result there is a transformation in my level of understanding. Not making sense? Let me give you an example.

In the first two years after Aparna's birth, I struggled with the issues of being a working mother. I never had enough time for all the things I wanted to do. So I would attend workshops about work-life balance, read books with titles like "Down-shifting", and lectures about how to manage everything. In one such program, I heard a woman say that the word "balance" as in work-life balance was a bad word because it signified giving up something. She said that whatever was worth doing required more from the individual, not less. It was a matter of priority.

At that time, the stance seemed too radical to me. It was all very well for her to say it, she seemed close to retirement age, not someone with a small baby and demanding job. I felt I was obligated to give up something, if only for my sanity. Balance was essential for my well-being. I disagreed with the woman. Totally.

But last weekend I found myself at Evening Hour, my neighborhood library's first anniversary event, at about 7.30 p.m. on a rainy Saturday night. I had spent the entire day traveling to and from a town 120 km outside of Hyderabad where I worked all day, sat in thick traffic in pouring rain, in order to show solidarity with the founder, Priyanka, who had also become a good friend in these 12 months. To say I was tired, would be an understatement. But I felt it was important to show up. So I did.

The room was crowded with almost 100 people, kids, young men and women, parents of all ages and two distinguished chief guests. I heard only one part of the interaction between the chief guests and the audience but it was an uplifting event. There was genuine discussion about how to bring about change in the world, how it is enough if we make an impact on only a small number of people, it is the power of compounding that can bring about a sea change. I stayed for about 30 minutes but the positive energy of that half hour still lingers with me days later.

Today, on my birthday, I had my "aha" moment as I realized that by choosing to go to Evening Hour that day, I had not given up on any item on my to-do list but I had prioritized this activity and perhaps saved some reserves of energy to participate. I came out refreshed and much more enriched by the experience. I now understand what that lady meant by not focusing on balance. Sometime we need to strive harder to get more out of life. It requires our effort and that makes all the difference. Eureka!

Settled?

The most common question I get asked these days is “Settled?”

Everyone seems to be genuinely interested to know whether I have settled into my new place, my very own apartment, a much-anticipated event that everyone in my circle knew about. Yes, I am living in the new place but feel far from settled.

It is exactly a month since we physically loaded the stuff into a truck and brought it over. In the weeks since that day, I have traveled to three cities, spoken professionally at multiple venues and opened more boxes than I care to count. I have found household help; someone to deliver the daily paper, milk and even drinking water. I am struggling with teething troubles that are unique to first-time occupants, doors that don’t close, faucets that don’t have water and sinks that drip incessantly. An army of people walks in each day, electricians, painters, carpenters, miscellaneous hangers-on, building manager, his assistant and his helper. Most leave behind a trail of dust in their wake.

Staying in a building that is only partially occupied makes for very noisy living. There is all kinds of carpentry work going on each floor, sometimes the elevator works, at other times the generator backup forgets to turn on. There is no broadband internet connection and no landline phone, but we have cable TV! I don’t know the location of the nearest tailor or doctor or bus route. There is so much about which I know so little.

But what makes all this bearable is one helpful neighbor who lives across the corridor. Their friendly granddaughter walks in fearlessly and engages us in conversation. Uncle and Aunty are eager to share local information. As each day goes by and darkness sets in earlier each evening, I see the number of lights in the balconies increase with every moving truck that unloads its contents. Men, women, kids, grandparents, entire families enter the brand new building, hoping to make a home in a tiny part of it. There is chatter, the shrill scream of excited children, the whoosh of bicycles, the ringtones of the mobiles, garlands on doorsteps, wind-chimes in windows, symbols of life.

Life is change and change signifies movement. Nothing represents life better than this constant shifting, adjusting, moving… Settled? Not really.