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Showing posts from November, 2018

Unseasonable Low

A hidden tide tugs dragging earth to sea  over and over. Used to be higher ground where the tall grass grew and whole seashells bit into the toes. Fall lay waste the green in a dirty sullen brown. There is ground still where waves don't batter The bruising has been long, from full moon to new. Maybe best for Spring to speckle the green. And till then walk  by water and shore, until the tide can turn.  

The Facebooking of LinkedIn

The only social media I personally use is LinkedIn. Have been there since the earliest days - among the first ten thousand users. Since that time LinkedIn has served me very well professionally. It used to be a way to keep in touch with former clients, co-workers, business connections, vendors and such. Most people were deliberate about who they added to their network. When looking for a new opportunity it was common practice to request an introduction to the decision maker through someone in your network that was directly connected to them. More often than not such introductions produced great results.  When you received an update via email from LinkedIn, it was usually actionable - a connection had moved to a new job, they had messaged you, you received an invite or someone had accepted yours. Each notification could result in some follow-up and so you actually cared about them. Since Microsoft got in the driver's seat, LinkedIn looks more like Facebook and less like itself and

Illusions of Choice

Read some very relatable lines from beautiful a poem by Imtiaz Dharker Choice I may raise my child in this man’s house or that man’s love, warm her on this one’s smile, wean her to that one’s wit, praise or blame at a chosen moment, in a considered way, say yes or no, true, false, tomorrow not today. . . finally, who will she be when the choices are made, when the choosers are dead, and of the men I love, the teeth are left chattering with me underground? just the sum of me and this or that other? Who can she be but, helplessly, herself?

An English Mantra

I first heard these lines when I was in high school studying Julius Caesar in English class but the words have proven to be my mantra for life.  " Cowards die many times before their deaths;   The valiant never taste of death but once." Every time catch myself worrying in vain about future events that I can neither predict nor control, these lines remind me not to be a coward. We spent a whole year studying this play and our English teacher was one of those who changes the lives of their students. The impact of the play or Mr. J's teaching of it would not be apparent to me until a good decade later when I first came into contact with significant real-life difficulties.  People find solace in reciting mantras in times of trouble, meditating or praying in silence. The words of Caesar as imagined by Shakespeare have served me just as well. I may not be quite as "valiant" as I would like but it helps to have these words play in my head each time I fail

Diwali

This  poem by Mark Strand came to mind this Diwali Even this late it happens: the coming of love, the coming of light.  You wake and the candles are lit as if by themselves,  stars gather, dreams pour into your pillows,  sending up warm bouquets of air. Even this late the bones of the body shine  and tomorrow’s dust flares into breath.

Time Travel With Smell

On our last day together in Kolkata, my friend S gave me a bottle of hand lotion . I was looking for mine and having no luck finding it, we were running late and S came to the rescue. Decades ago in college, she had rescued me from things - most importantly from the overwhelming sense of being in the wrong place and having no direction. The long hours in the dorm and cafeteria spent in aimless conversations brought a great deal of clarity for me. Yet, I lacked to wisdom to act on what I had learned about myself. It is said, all those who wander are not lost - I was certainly both. The heady smell of rose in the lotion acts as a trigger whenever I use it. It forces me to think deliberately instead of seeking excuses.  We can choose to live an expressive life, that touches and benefits many. Or we could just exist for our responsibilities without risk, without such a degree of closeness that can cause discomfort or pain. S and I have lived almost as if in reverse of each other. Profess

Bird Watch

People watching interact from afar can be fascinating. There was three of us waiting in a lobby area early on a Saturday morning. The TV in on a channel streaming celeb stories. Most of them I have only vaguely heard of. The older lady is engrossed in the book she is reading. The middle aged man had an animated conversation with that dude that is setting up the appointments. Then he called his wife. His posture acquired a slump and his voice turned limp when I compared it to the manner of his previous conversation with the dude in the shop. Made me wonder what his backstory may have been. Is it more real for a person to have a uniform demeanor no matter who they are interacting with or adapt to the person?  Clearly, you can’t talk to a baby the way to talk to an adult or a senior who is having trouble remembering things. You naturally adapt your manner. Yet something about this man’s demeanor on the phone with his wife suggested that he needed to be a certain persona for peace in his

Things To Nurse

I met a young lady recently, T who switched professions in quite a dramatic way. She was studying to be a nurse and somewhere along the way became an auto mechanic. Her epiphany came when she realized she had a very trouble-prone car and understood nothing about it. The car that unreliable and expensive to repair impacted  other aspects of her life and livelihood.   At first, she just sought to be a better-informed customer and hold her own in discussions about what was wrong and needed fixing in her car. But the inner workings of her car drew her in unexpectedly. Before long, she had transitioned from a line of work where her gender made her the norm to one where it made her the exception. All signs are that she is thriving as a minority in the auto-repair business. She is also a single mother of a pre-schooler eager to give her young son the best opportunities that she can.  Talking to this young lady, made me think about another woman I know - M,   also fairly young and in the b