Feel The Fear And Do It Anyway - Susan Jeffers

Read this interesting book that I had with me for many years now. But it so happened that its time had come and I packed it along with me on my recent trip to Bangalore. Dr. Susan Jeffers, who has been through a lot in her own life, quickly brings up the main issue that fear is what stops us from doing many things in life and thereby stops us from fully living. She also says that everyone feels the fear - only people approach it differently - and thus get different results.

She slots fear into level i, 2 and 3 categories and what we need to concern ourselves with is level 3 which pretty much is - I can't handle it. The biggest fear then is that we cannot handle things and that is what stops us. If we can get to a stage, develop our ability, where we feel that we can handle any thing that comes our way, there would be nothing to fear about! Worth thinking. Just thinking and being in a stage where you tell yourself that you can handle whatever comes up is the biggest way to get past fear.

From affirmations which work on the mind to actually doing little things that help us grow past our fears of failure, success, rejection, Susan Jeffers gives many tools to handle fear. She suggests we are better off pushing through fear instead of being helpless and paralysed by it - which is a sure way of never getting past it. She says we can hold fear to give us pain (helplessness, depression, paralysis) or power (choice, excitement, action).

Susan Jeffers gives many tools and thoughts from various sources as she urges the reader to do everything to get over the fear and find one's true potential. In fact the book goes way beyond what the title suggests - from support groups to a balanced life to saying YES to life as it comes to giving to trusting and loving to a higher purpose, she covers the entire gamut of living a wholesome life itself. It makes a lot of sense and makes one feel all the more empowered and take a few more risks, be a little more alive. Certainly worth a read - it's easy to digest, has clear concepts and is well presented.

Anjali - And the Wibbly Wobbly Air Plane

The return journey from Bangalore to Hyderabad was by Air India, by far my favourite airline for its complete non-intrusive ways. Also the planes always seem slightly bigger and more stable, the hostesses seem experienced and know what to do if there is an emergency and there is always something to eat. All in all it looks very solid and dependable - my kind of an airline.

Anyway this last experience was a bit of a dampener as the large flight had its share of problems - like old buses or old coaches in the railways have. For the first time I noticed that the reading light would not come on and the switch was hanging lifelessly, the button that lets the chair rock back a bit failed to work and I was seated at an odd angle as the chair rocked ominously by on its own, the food was a bit stale, bread and cake, done with at express speed by the hostesses who seemed to be in a hurry to discuss something else. It did look a bit worse for the wear. However on the plus side, the customer support staff at the airport were wonderful young men and women, no frills and all courtesy and service.

Surprisingly Anjali who got a window seat was in good spirits and gazed down and enjoyed the ride. Just as we were approaching the Hyderabad airport after some excruciating drops in altitude when our ears began to whine and buzz and hurt, the airplane decided to rock this way and that. Enough to make seasoned travellers clutch their seats, some to close their eyes and some to start chanting.

We were all a bit tense when in the midst of all the rocking and rolling we heard a chirpy and happy voice. 'It's okay if it (the ride) is not smooth mummy,' said an obviously delighted Anjali. 'I am enjoying myself in this wibbly wobbly airplane.' Struck me then at the irony of it all. If we were on the plane or a merry go round or even a roller coaster, everyone would be forcibly enjoying the same rock and rokking motion by screaming and shouting and whooping instead of chanting etc since w ehad paid for that experience. It was just because we were on a plane that we were all on the complain mode - what kind of an airline, it was shaking and rolling, bad pilots, bad flights, I was almost puking - you know what I mean.

It does take a child to know that it is fun, wherever, that we can enjoy the moment even in a wibbly wobbly airplane and not just in an entertainment park. How often do we realise that the Emperor has no clothes when there are children around!

Metallica In Bangalore

When I first heard that Metallica was to play in Bangalore my first reaction was 'Let's see this'. I listened to Metallica's first big hit album with 'Enter Sandman', 'Nothing else matters'. 'Wherever I may roam', 'The Unforgiven' almost two decades ago as a twenty something and was deeply impressed with it. I had marked out the band as one of those to watch out for and bought the next few albums (then in cassettes) and did not find those encouraging. I gave up, and returned to a life without Metallica. But tribute enough that in my rock playlist on my ipod, Metallica's major numbers have pride of place.

Why go to a rock concert at 40 plus? Because its the best time to go to a rock concert. Anyway between my indecision and the lack of enthusiasm on the part of some other 40+ members (like Kiri who seems to have other forms of adrenaline rushes these days), and then by a few 20+ members too, I gave up. It was only because I had committed to ride with Hari Rao to Bangalore that I went and guess what - a day before I run into Anirudh who says he has a spare ticket and hands it to me. I was set.

Why is 40+ the best time to go for concerts? Because you can do it in a more relaxed fashion. I remember the time we went for the Roger Waters show and the Bryan Adams show we were there when the gates opened at 3 p.m. Which meant that we were in the main arena at 430 or 5 and then waited longer for the first act to come and then another and then finally the main act at 8 p.m. and we were standing almost 7 hours or more. This time I was prepared. I watched the F1 action on the television and loved it. And at 6 p.m. I set out to the Palace Grounds thanks to my host Rajesh who offered to drop me.

One could see youngsters in black t shirts snaking their way towards the Palace Grounds. I hopped off outside the gate from Rajesh's car and walked in. Lots of twenty somethings were all going in. I saw some fake lines (queues) that had fooled me earlier and this time I decided to go to the next entry point to check. As i suspected there were no queues. It is amazing how we never queue up when there is a queue and how we queue up when there is none. Just the fact that there were so many people seemed to have made some people queue up on their own. Anyway, we moved in past the first point, then the second and then we were in. About twenty people checked my pants pockets, none checked the jacket I was wearing and none checked the shoes where everyone who goes to concerts conceals the booze, cigarettes and other agricultural produce one requires for concerts. But it was thousands of black t shirts - 90 percent in the 18-25 age group (where did they get the money, the ticket was Rs. 2750), some in the 30-40 and 1 % in the above 40 crowd. But all, toddlers to the seventy year old I saw, were dancing and swaying.

The early rain caught everyone by surprise but I had come prepared with a jacket that saved me a bit and I hung on to the barricade at the end of the first section. The ground was split into three - the first for the completely young and crazy, the second for the ones who want a bit of a space but also a view of the stage and the third who want to sit or lie down and listen to the music or see that videos on the big screens. An English group played and then the rain went away. I could see youngsters totally smashed, some reeking of alcohol, some who were already out before the concert. The sweet smell of agricultural produce stuffed into cigarettes hung about like a cloud all through and one would get high just being there and inhaling it. Metallica came on at 8 p.m. after an elaborate arrangement to ensure safety of the fans.

Once they came on it was all mayhem as the decibels grew to a level that hit you hard in the gut, the music soared to another level. Hetfield, Ulrich, Kirk Hammett on the guitar and Robert Trujillo played out 'Nothing else matters', 'Wherever I May Roam' , 'Enter Sandman', 'For Whom the Bell Tolls' , 'Seek and Destroy' , 'Master of Puppets' , 'Of Wolf And Man' , 'Creeping Death' , 'Cyanide' and some songs I did not get. They performed energetically, non-stop for two hours. The erupting flames at the back stage were about the only visual aid they took recourse to and the fireworks in the sky at another time. Apart from that and moving to the elevated stage the band stuck to playing music that they expressed best without any aids. I left at 10, after a good two hours of thorough enjoyment, when the band was playing some cover versions to those groups that inspired them, and carefully made my way out of the muck and mud.

Looking around one could see that a few fans knew all the songs but a majority had no clue of the songs, not even the popular numbers. But they had a good time, you cannot not have a good time with such an elaborate show and such a big group, despite the rain. There were a couple of magic moments when the crowd got into the act and sang for a full five minutes compelling Hetfield to genuinely exclaim - Bangalore I love you. There were 1000 police they say, for a crowd that was in excess of 20000, by far the largest I have seen.

Though there were some of my friends in the crowd I decided to watch it myself. And that was a good decision because I enjoyed watching the show by myself, ensconced by a group of youngsters who were a joy to watch as they sang every song, one girl in particular, enjoying herself to the exclusion of everything else. My only problem was that apart from their big classics I had not heard much so about half the songs were unknown. But then Metallica also does not have such a big body of work, good work, so no complaints. But they were professional, highly energetic and had the crowd eating out of their hand.

People in all kinds of attire, of all ages, of all sizes and shapes, foreigners, Indians, music lovers, fun lovers, old people dancing, young people screaming, the energy was infectious. One must go to concerts for just that. To get a dose of life. I guess I will make it to other concerts as well.

Hyderabad to Bangalore in Six and a half hours

I have had the pleasure of going to Bangalore last year by a Volvo bus and it took me to Bangalore in 6 hours or so - 11.30 p.m. was take off at Lakdi-ka-pul and we were at the Hebbal flyover at 530 a.m. - a break for dinner thrown in between. Though I eulogised the wonderful ride in my blog then, I slept through most of it and had no clue what the road was like. I had a chance to correct that last Saturday when my friend Hari Rao, the maker of the most wonderful biryanis and kebabs and panneer, and I decided to drive down to Bangalore in his Verna.

At 545 a.m. we left my place, and zoomed down the Bangalore highway and stopped at a joint that came up barely an hour from the Shamshabad airport. It was a new place but nicely done and serving some hot stuff pretty early in the morning. One can't miss it; it's the best joint in the whole road now with a car embedded into its front. Hillridge or something like that.

Lots of parking, easy to turn into, good food, service, clean loos. Some coffee and vadas (huge ones) and we were back on the road. Another stop after Kurnool for tea and that was it. We were at Hebbal flyover by 1 p.m. The road was smooth as butter. We averaged 100 and 120 max and never more. Several cars zoomed past at high speeds and we lost sight of them pretty soon.

The drive is fantastic. the road is four laned all through and has a huge divider in between, with plants and trees that protect you from the lights of oncoming vehicles. There are several breaks in the road for traffic to crossover and that is the one you need to watch out for. Ideally stick to the left side lane so you avoid any surprise springing out of the break like autos, two wheelers etc. The countryside was green and pleasant. However the toll is expensive and you end up shelling up a lot (close to 500 bucks I'd think) on various tolls in the car/jeep category.

If you have the time, Hyderabad and Bangalore is best by road. A good car and you could even beat the time that a flight would take.

Thought for the day - Where do you get your love from?

It struck me suddenly yesterday as I saw people at a gathering, all stiff and aloof. All wanting some love, kindness and comfort but behaving like they can handle it all together. I see my friends in some trouble, ill health and know that all they need is some love, a hug perhaps, a kind word. But they are walled and isolated? Where do we get our love from? Most people seem to live in those islands where there is no access to love. Ask yourself the question ad see where you get your love from.

Is there someone who you can talk to about anything? Is there someone who can give you a good laugh? Is there someone who hugs you? Someone who makes you feel better when you need it? Is there someone who makes you laugh easily? Is there someone who has a kind word? Is there someone who listens non-judgmentally? Is there someone whose home you can go off and feel secure and comfortable? Is there someone who loves you unconditionally? Is there someone who you can take for granted? Is there someone who gives you little surprises and make you feel good? Is there someone who asks you advise and takes you seriously? Is there something you love doing with someone? Someone who you can listen to music with, go visiting late night, go for a drive? Or even, is there something you just love doing?

Most older people seem to draw a lot of love from their children when the children are young as children can be a wonderful source of joy and love. Most older relationships however seem to lose out on unconditional love as they seem filled with anger and resentment or just plain boredom. Most people seem to just crave for one good hug, one kind word, one good laugh. If you have not been getting your love easily its time to renew old friendships, to be more open and trusting, to be more giving and to let love flow easily. Don't stop your flow of love. Find the people in your life who always made you feel special and rediscover them - spouses, children friends, parents, grandparents, neighbours, playmates - and even new ones and let go. Give all that you would love to get and you will get it all back. It's a good feeling to have so much love coming from all over.

Only the Fully Pure Can Ask

So the government goes after Arvind Kejriwal and Kiran Bedi and they find stuff that was never found before, and send IT notices and there is so much scrutiny on every act to prove that they are not as pure. That they cannot take the moral high ground. That since they are not pure they have automatically lost the right to ask for better governance.

If they ask - their impurities will be shown - and they will also join all else in the murky waters of the impure. Since the one man they could not touch yet - Anna Hazare - has not been found with too much dirt (just a hint of saffron that Digvijay Singh sprayed on him) - they have found out the team's weakness. And so the juggernaut rolls on, crushing all those who ask, who raise their voice, who dare to talk. Look at all those who are already under the scanner and facing the heat - from Jaganmohan Reddy to Kiran Bedi - they are all guilty of one thing. Raise their voice.

Even the worst of criminals has a right to ask. He will be punished for his crime and that is a separate matter. But he has a right to ask for what he believes is the good of the society. To probe and say that he is a murderer and a dacoit and cannot ask does not hold any water. These are politics of the impure, where the dirtiest and the only slightly tainted, are both viewed under the same scanner, are given the same punishment. But whatever their crimes, Arvind Kejriwal and Kiran Bedi have a right to ask, to demand. If they are guilty of crimes, so be it. Punish them. But do not take away the good that they intend. And if one feels that they do not intend any good, say it. Arrest them if they resort to unconstitutional acts. But what about public sentiment? What about votes? So let us prepare ground, dig, mailgn, taint and then drown.

It is time for good governance. For honest, courageous, responsible governance that
puts the interest of the nation in front. Not votes and power. To lead by example, not by elimination.

Writing 'The Misfit' - The Inspiration and the Journey

And I think this is an apt time to start blogging about the next novel 'The Misfit', my first ever attempt at a novel that started in 1997. I started writing it inspired by a terrible novel that I had read that time which made no sense to me, written by Tabish Khair. Something about pyjamas or frogs or something like that. I searched for some meaning and found none and read through till the end wondering what could come up. But it ended without giving me any answers. Perhaps it was too esoteric or way too bad.

It however gave me a strong resolve to write, that if that could get published, then perhaps I could write too and get published. So my inspiration to write a novel came not from excellence, but by the floor (in my eyes, and no offence meant to Tabish Khair nor his considerable abilities), which gave me confidence that I could do better. Tabish Khair later went on to become a celebrated writer who writes in the same way and I still don't understand him, but it is to him, the Drona, that I owe my novel writing courage.

I started writing 'The Misfit' in June 1998 and was done in October 1998, writing it over weekends and late nights. I wrote in long hand, typed and printed it, and carried the first manuscript with me on a trip to Goa with the feeling of having written a masterpiece. It was heady stuff. Some known readers and their encouraging reactions later (they are a fine lot), I sent it off to the same publisher who had published Khair, thinking that perhaps they might buy it if they had published that other book. But they rejected me in two days. I took it on my chin, hard, but decided not to give up. I had given up too many things and learnt that it does not pay.

Some 300 publishers later, several agents and all that, a thousand revisions perhaps, 'The Misfit' lay in my computer as younger ideas like 'The Men Within' and 'If You Love Someone..' got published and took off. I did not learn, nor take the hint. I dusted the virtual cobwebs off the masterpiece and lugged it along shamelessly to Keerti, my editor, last year. 'Does it have a chance?' I asked. Keerti read it (I sympathise with her, she is too nice to say No) and said it had a chance. And then she drew her pencil and made so many suggestions and changes that it boggled my mind. Was this her way of saying that it has no chance? I am too dense for these and do not understand even a straight no so I worked on it.

For six months I looked at the changes she made in pencil and wondered if I was better off writing a new novel. For the nest three months I started actually leafing through them. And in the last three months I made some changes, with the experience of ten years behind me. Now somehow after many months of doubt, I feel that I have a story (I felt that in 1998 as well, I must warn you). But this time I have cleverly employed many expert writerly devices to make the story more readable - so it has more 'narrative energy' - one of those nice euphemisms that editors use before they reject your proposal. Rehashed and shining through like a new bride, 'The Misfit' now chugs to a close. And I think, have I done enough? Only time and editors will tell.

But this time I hope someone buys the story, because it is taking up all my time. i am obsessed with it as if it were my first love, or perhaps, my first child would be more appropriate. But I would be glad to have some closure to it. Illusions of it being the next literary masterpiece have now given way and I am now nodding sagely at the prospect of it sitting on the book shelf in some bookstore and perhaps enthusing the oddball reader who might want to read books about 'Misfits'. More on the Misfit later and I will report its progress as it shows a semblance of coming to life.