Category: Thoughts uncut

Remember, remember

It don’t have to be the fifth of November.

Life is so full of events and people that make those moments worthwhile. Living in those moments, we make memories we cherish forever.

But we don’t always remember everything as it is. We forget quite a lot too.

Memory bias is real. That’s the problem. We choose what we want to remember, and sometimes we choose to forget uncomfortable incidents or people we don’t want to encounter again. We may forget the favour of a friend, the sacrifice of a parent, the persistence of a teacher—all just because our priorities shift.

And sometimes, our memories are no longer the same. We think we’re happy today, but when looking back at today’s memory years later, we may realise something more profound about this moment. Who’s to say, we may even feel then that the happiness of today was pretence—a result of societal pressure. Everyone has their own stories, their own perspectives. What is a good or bad memory depends on who we are at the moment. After all, as the years go by, as we mature, even memories (and memories of those memories) fade away.

And that’s why we shouldn’t rely too much on memories. Although there’s so much we can learn from remembering the past, it’s also so easy to overdo it. It doesn’t do to dwell in the past and forget to live in the present. And sometimes, we do just that. We let precious memories of days gone by cloud our judgement and hinder our progress.

It’s like the trivial selfie culture. People obsess over photographing places and things, so much so that they’re no longer in the moment. Our intense desire to memorialise an incident, drives us away from internalising the memory itself.

In the same way, we obsess with the good old days that we fail to realise that better days will come. And therein lies the inertia of making new memories, of trying new things. We worry so much about living up to the past that we forget to live in the present, fearing that the future wouldn’t be as good as the past.

Let’s be thankful for the past, remember it with gratitude, and use it to shape ourselves a better future. The past isn’t a curse we should cling to. It’s, instead, a lesson that we should live through, learn, and pass on.

Thanks for today’s muse, Kumud and #SpiritChat.

All in good time

When I heard the daily prompt, awkward, a few days ago, the first thing that popped into my head is that awkwardness is inexperience. And the more I dwelt on it, the more I related to it.

I relived my first few weeks at work. I was young, teetering at the last teen age. I knew big things awaited me, but I feared deep of unknown promises of the future. I wasn’t sure I was ready to take whatever the world would giveth. I met a lot of people—and having grown up in a modest town with limited exposure to the outside world, accepting a job in Chennai, a metropolitan city of 4 million, was a little more than overwhelming. I withdrew within myself, using my inherent introversion to stay away from conversations or introductions.

Soon I’d created a reputation for myself as the one who’d cling to the seat, unspeaking, involuntary to contribute opinions. I never spoke in meetings, sulking instead, in a corner, with my arms crossed, listening to the seniors as well as the more extroverted juniors speak their mind. Later, alone in my room, I’d reason I didn’t have an opinion to share.

Today, five years later, there’s drastic difference in me. Not only am I more outspoken of my opinions and observations, but I’m also more confident in meeting people. I’m comfortable interacting with my team members, listening to their arguments, refuting when necessary, and putting forth my arguments in sequence. (Although I still need practice on come back statements and spontaneous debates,) I see the huge progress I’ve made over the years. And when I greet a new comer in the team, my feet no longer feel too large and my tongue doesn’t twist inside my mouth. Instead of shuffling my feet in discomfort, I feel empowered. My handshakes are stronger and my face relaxes into a easy-going smile. I’ve felt myself changing from the scared person I used to be.

And this made me wonder: Have I become an extrovert all of a sudden?

I haven’t. I’m still the same introvert who needs downtime, who prefers solitude over company, who’s happy dining alone.

In fact, I realised, we often misunderstand awkwardness as introversion. An inexperienced person may feel awkward in many situations, but that doesn’t make them an introvert. Funny how we name personality traits even before we know better.

We are who’s around us

Look around. There’s immense strength and courage everywhere. A tiny stem that bears flowering petals, a fragile cocoon that encases a butterfly, a slender deer that bounds about the forest, navigating barks and branches in search of kith and kin… determination is ubiquitous.

Humans are the same. Although ego and hatred thrive amidst our society, there’s also love, kindness, and incredible willingness to help each other out. I was at my ancestral village a few days ago. My parents were moving there from the city and I was visiting to help shift. The entire village showed up to help us set up our house, organise our things, and to show us around. They shared more than their meals with us—they narrated stories of years gone by, explained ways of their current lifestyle, dropped a few tips to survive a boring summer afternoon, and even showed us their favourite walking routes.

In return, all they expected from us was a genuine smile and amiable companionship. They wanted nothing more than good neighbours. Their sincerity, as electricity, surged through me. I felt intense affection towards the villagers, and I knew then that I’d behave the same towards them. 

That’s when I realised that their kindness in helping strangers and resilience during trying times carried over to me, strengthening me and motivating me from within.

And like the crack of morn, it dawned on me: I draw motivation and courage from those who surround me. My choice of company can keep me going or allow me to give up hope and mope. It’s my choice.

Like a mutual relationship, we all exchange goodness with each other. One creature’s success motivates another, and one creature’s ability to face challenges carries over to another. We all hold such great power over each other. 

In a way, our entire world is an interconnected web of shared fortitude.

Evolution of a copywriter

All the world’s a stage
And all the men and women corporate players
They have their exits and their entrances
And one copywriter in their time plays many parts,
Their acts being many stages. At first, landing page writer,
Whining and sucking up to search engine’s demands.
Then the musing copywriter, with a wonder
And unsure morning face, creeping like snail
battling the block. And then the reviewer,
Sighing like furnace, with a woeful look
of enduring unendearing copy. Then a soldier,
The editor—full of strange rules, wired like a DJ,
Unperturbed, irritable, excited all in quick succession,
Seeking the bubble reputation
Even in the manager’s good books. And then a senior,
In fair round belly with experience underneath,
With eyes bloodshot trying shoes of formal cut,
Full of wise wit and modern puns;
And so they play their part. The sixth age shifts
Into the lean and pushback chair,
With spectacles on nose and munchies on side;
The youthful curiosity well satisfied, in a world growing
bigger than ad copy, evolving into testing,
Turning toward marketing, managing social
media and listening. Last scene of all,
That topples this strange eventful history,
Is second copywriting and mere simplicity,
Sans typos, sans click-baits, sans vanity metrics—well, almost.

It’s been almost five years since I started working as a copywriter. And during that period, I’ve had to play many different roles within my team. I was wondering how a copywriter is also a content marketer, a social media manager, advertising writer, script writer, technical writer, creative writer, and so much more, when I remembered one of my all-time favourite poems. The connection seemed only too obvious.

The other mother

Why do we call her “mother” nature?

It’s more than personification. It’s a symbol. A mother—the one who births us—is a guide, a teacher for her child.

And nature, too is a guide, teaching our soul how to live. I used to think of nature only as a mother that bears us longer than a physical mother.

But there’s so much more likeness between mother and nature.

A mother is always there for her child, willing to listen and help without passing judgements. She’s patient and all-enduring, even the odd misbehaving child.

Nature bears with us despite every thing we do to her. We dump garbage on her, pump our waste on her hair, drill deep into her being searching for wealth, and yet, not once does she punish us for being as we are and doing what we do.

Sure, life isn’t always a walk in the park. Like my mom, nature has bad hair days, too. And sometimes the wind blows hard on our relationship, shaking pillars we’ve built over the years. Regardless, every catastrophe, every hard-to-face situation is a lesson for life. These incidents teach us to acknowledge and accept the bad things, just as we crave and cherish the good ones.

Looking back at the aftermath of those rough times, we can learn to amend our mistakes. For when we reflect from her perspective, we’ll see how much we’ve abused her selfless kindness. We’ll realise how we drove her into venting her frustration on us. Maybe we triggered a long-suppressed volcano of disappointment.

Just as we mature, so do our spiritual and physical mothers. We often forget that. Just as leaves, the hair changes, as seasons, the moods evolve, and then she becomes less intriguing to us.

Mothers don’t punish their children for bad behaviour, but even they have tipping points. And it often takes a breakout for her to get our attention—a reminder that we should spend more time with her. A reminder to call on her more often and listen to her. Because, once we’re grown up we forget how much we relied on our mother—how much we loved playing in the sand, dipping our toes in the river, and dancing in the rain.

A mother is an embodiment of everything we live for. We should preserve that relationship.

Let this mothers’ day be a happy nature day as well.

Thanks for this week’s muse, Kumud and #SpiritChat