Thriving Mindfully

Tag: friendship (Page 2 of 2)

On friendship beyond context

I had the fortune of meeting a friend yesterday in Delhi. We used to play a lot of music together until a few years ago.
That was the context we grew closer in.
But despite being far away physically and not playing music together for so long, we both felt our friendship had grown over the years. It was a deeply reassuring feeling.

We made great conversation over a car ride and he dropped me at the metro station.
There I met my old student who I used to help learn how to play drums.
We reminisced about how our classes used to be, full of openness and fun. We used to discuss problems of Mathematics, philosophy, logic and science and learnt drumming in the process.
We both were students in those 40 minute sessions.
Now, I am no longer an official teacher to him. But we’re great friends, despite the distance.

These interactions made me realise how one can make the choice of fostering lasting relationships in life.

We all meet our friends in a certain context. We meet them either in school, college, an activity group, while playing sports or at work…you get the picture.

While we are interacting with them in the context we meet them in,
are we open to share our ideas and beliefs beyond the context of our interaction?

Can we talk about how to live a good life, what our dreams are, what we want to change about ourselves and the world around in the same breath as we talk about say pottery, if we met our friend first in a pottery workshop?

The longevity of a relationship is determined by how resilient is it in the face of changing contexts.
We are all growing, ageing, evolving, getting married, changing jobs, chasing dreams, becoming parents…
Can we still talk about minutiae over a margarita, the profoundness in finding purpose in life?

As they say in evolution it all boils down to
‘The survival of the fittest.’

The healthiest of friendships are ones where there is a constancy in love, care and respect for your friend despite the dynamic shifts in contexts life takes us through.

That in my opinion is a fit friendship,
a lasting frienship
A friendship that would truly,
Thrive.

 

 

My fuel and fire

Touring with a bicycle comes with its own baggage. Quite literally. I have two pannier bags and a backpack strung up to the carrier at the rear of my bicycle. Collectively, with three liters of water and bagful of fruit, it would weigh around 25 kgs. My bicycle itself weighs around 18kgs and I weigh close to 54 kgs.
Adding all that up, we are a unit of 97 kgs.

The sight of the bicycle when fully loaded up is quite different from when it is not.
On first look, it almost seems impossible to an onlooker that a bicycle could support so much weight and bulge on the sides.
Often while bicycling through rural parts of Thailand, I would be greeted with curious stares from perplexed village folk. They would seem to be looking too closely at the bicycle as if trying to spot an engine or a motor that’s fuelling the loaded up beast of a bicycle I fondly call Mowgli.

When I would stop at a roadside shop to eat, they would look at my lean body frame and wonder how I am even biking this thing onward. I would be tendered sympathy and encouragement in equal measure by locals.

I wondered why it seemed so impossible to all the people I met with.

Then, I took a good look around to see all the other vehicles on the road.

Ah, they all had a big fuel tank!
My bicycle doesn’t !
And that’s where lay the difference.

I moved on to embrace the approaching breeze on the highway.

Curiously I asked my bicycle,

‘Mowgli, I just realized why people stare at us with such wonder !’

‘Really? What do you think the reason is?’

‘Because we don’t have a fuel tank !’

‘Ah, that’s not true’ dismissed Mowgli.

‘What do you mean?’

‘We definitely have a fuel tank!’

‘Really? Where is it?’

‘The fuel tank is right there inside you.
In you mind.
It has always been there.
And each new adventure, each new experience, fuels us up even more.
No wonder we don’t have to stop to refuel like other vehicles. In fact we have to keep riding to refuel!’

‘That’s wise of you my bicycle! But if there was always fuel in my mind, why did I not start a journey earlier?’

‘Oh ! Simple.
Because you did not have an ignition to kindle the fuel inside you.’

‘And what’s that ignition Mowgli?’

‘My humble self,  your bicycle, isn’t it so?’

And I wondered,

Yes!  This humble bicycle has ignited my fuel to head on a wonderful journey of deep discovery,
of worlds inside and outside.

Singing to the soothing breeze, our collective unit of fuel and ignition, with all our luggage and love,

Head on in search of newer lands
Of friends to be.

 

 

My new Thai name!

Hello…Sunny….
me…near park…
you go here. Okay?
said Lucky , maybe in her first conversation in English over a phone.

Okay, Lucky. You wait for me.
I come to you.

Chai, chai (Yes, Yes in Thai)’

And I started to ride around the park trying to spot my friend Lucky and her husband Pravee. In case you’re wondering, Sunny is my Thai name which this lovely couple gave me, since it was difficult for them to pronounce my real name!
After a five minute search, we spotted each other. I crossed the road and went to see them. There was such excitement in our spirit to be meeting each other again. But we did not have a common language to communicate in!
Like overjoyed kids we opened our hearts and smiled ear to ear as we greeted each other.

We put my bicycle at the back of their pick-up truck. I went inside and sat on the rear seat.
What a joyride it was for the next three hours !
We managed to communicate using different aids. Sign language, English- Thai translator, exaggerated expressions and of course, unbridled laughter when we would fail to understand a word of what the other person was saying.

There was a childlike innocence in their demeanor. Lucky had a book called, ‘Working conversation to perfect your English -Thai Edition’ which she routinely referred to for asking questions.
The excitement and enthusiasm this couple shared despite the language barrier was adorable to witness.

After an intimate tour of Bangkok, they dropped me back home. They had a long conversation with a chatty watchman which had the word ‘India India’ in almost every other sentence. They would point at me lovingly all throughout their talk.

Okay Sunny, Goodbye.
See you India’

Yes, In India, you stay my home Okay?’

‘Okay Okay!’

They left shortly afterwards. I waved them goodbye till they were beyond sight.

I had met this couple by accident at a bicycle rally in South Thailand. And we had exchanged our contacts.
They had so much love in their heart that they wanted to see me again just to show me around. They didn’t speak English and communication was an issue.
But their alacrity to make a new friend was so sincere that nothing could come in the way.

They gave so much love and energy that I came to believe, I was Sunny !
I would happily identify myself with that name.

Beyond names,
beyond languages,
beyond all barriers,
Is the language of the heart.
Once you communicate from there,
You will find a deep connection no matter what.
My cheeks hurt by smiling so much all throughout the day in their company.

With a new name,
new friends,
And with the promise of keeping an childlike heart,
I assure myself,
To carry the spirit of friendship on and on.

Priceless Bananas

The shadows were getting longer by the minute.  As I passed by milestone after milestone, I found myself still quite far away from the nearest town. It had been a long day bicycling under the full sun.
I was hoping to buy a bunch of bananas for dinner. I only had 29 Baht with me to spare. With no ATM around me on the highway, that was my allowance for food for the night.

On the way, I saw a few shops adjacent to the road selling food. I slowed down to see if any of them had bananas.
Luckily, one of them did. I stopped to catch a breath before I spoke.

But as it happened, I didn’t need to speak at all. A lovely woman stood up and put a big bunch of bananas in a bag and gave it to me.
Since I didn’t have much money, I wanted to ask how much they cost. I took out my phone and gestured her to type in the price in the calculator app.

To my surprise, she spoke back to me in fluent English.
‘No No, you don’t need to pay for this. It is a gift from me to you.’

‘No, I must pay for this !’ I insisted.

She smiled and continued,
‘These bananas are from my farm. Very delicious. No problem for me. You can enjoy them.’
And she put another bunch in the bag for me.

‘What is you name ?’ I asked her.

‘My name is Onn. I live in this village.’

‘Onn, I am from India.’

‘I know. I can tell from your face.’

Her demeanor had a warmth and innocence as if she was trying to make the first friend of her life.
I wished to give her something for her kind gift of a couple dozen bananas.

‘Onn, can I click a picture of you?’

‘Yes, Okay!’

‘This is a special camera. It is called a Polaroid. We will have the picture come out from the camera instantly.’

‘Oh really! ‘ she exclaimed and posed.

I clicked the picture and waited for it to develop in the dark.

‘You like Thailand?’

‘Yes, a lot !’

‘Why?’ she inquired.

‘Because of people like you!’ I shared gladly.

She wore an excited look as I gave her the Polaroid picture.

‘This is wonderful. I like it. Thank you !’

‘You can make it your ID card !’ I joked.

‘Yes yes ! Next time you come in this area, come again, I always have bananas from my farm.’

I joined my hands and bowed down to greet her Namaste.

‘Yes I will, I promise.’

I got on my bicycle and headed onward.

She waved goodbye to me, just like kids on the street do, knowing well that they would never see you again, and not allowing that awareness to quell the exuberance in their greeting.

I’d heard from marketers that to create a relationship with a customer, give free stuff to them when they least expect it. By doing so, you’ll create loyalty around your brand.

But this beautiful village woman, far removed from the context of business, shared what she had, without seeking any business in return.
She was just happy being an embassador of goodwill.

Had I paid for the bananas the usual way, she would have had money and I’d have had the Fruit.
But she chose to be generous,
And both of us have a beautiful memory,
To reminisce,
To share,
And most importantly the desire to carry the spirit of empathy, compassion and goodwill within us, on the journey of life.

Later in the night, I tasted one of the bananas. They were certainly the best ones I’ve ever tasted.
She was right to not put a price tag on it.
For certainly they are,
Priceless.

A Fire, Fish and Friendship

Meandering through the maze of roads, I finally saw a shade of blue in the distance. I finally found my way to the beach right outside Phuket international airport.
The whole promenade was lined up with five star resorts. I felt a bit out of place riding along with most of my laundry hanging on my bicycle pannier bags.
I saw a few local boys in lifeguard uniforms at the beach.
I approached them and asked,
‘Camping here Okay?’

‘Sleep?’ one of them gestured with his palms making a pillow for his head to rest.

‘Yes Yes, Okay to sleep here?’

‘Yes sleep sleep no problem.’

Happy with the news I leaned my bike against a tree and reached into my bag to find bananas. I offered one to all the life guards there.
They accepted it readily. With further conversation I came to know they were all boys from the village nearby. The youngest one, Om,
was just 9 years old. He would just come with his village friends to the beach to have a good time.
Everyone had a fishing rod with them at all times. They would fish in hope of finding a fat one for dinner.

Over the afternoon, I walked around to find a nice spot to camp. Once I found one, I started setting up my tent. The sun was setting with effortless grace. The horizon, alive even in the final moments of the day’s demise.

Once I finished setting up the tent , I looked around to find Om standing right next to me.
He smiled shyly and muttered something in Thai.
‘Me, no Thai’ I gestured animatedly.

He quickly squatted down and rubbed his palms together and mimed a person warming himself up around a fire.

‘Oh you want to set up a bonfire! But no matches or lighter!’

He ran to his brother who was catching fish on the beach. He paced back happily with a lighter.
We collected kindling from around the place and soon we had a fire set up.

‘Fish, fish!’ he gestured with a stick in hand.
He wanted to barbecue fish !
Fuelled with excitement, he ran to the beach side and started to look for something.
I built on the fire meanwhile.
In a few minutes he came back with two tiny crabs. He poked them into a stick and put them to grill on our little fire.

The sun had sunk into the ocean. He saw his brother retrieve his fishing equipment and walk towards his motorcycle. As if on a deadline, he raced to his brother and whispered in his ear.

Soon I saw him back, right next to me with a big fish in hand.

‘Fish, Fish !’ he declared excitedly. He poked another stick into the fish and set it on top of the fire.
The joy in his spirit knew no bounds!

Soon his brother called his name out loud. He turned to me and waved ‘Bye Bye!’

‘Oh what about your fish Om?’

He pointed his finger at me and said
‘You You!’

He hopped onto motorcycle and sped away to his home in the village. He waved goodbye for as long as his eyes could meet mine.

It is raining at the moment. The fire we set up together has died out.
But the fire he set up in my heart, of a warm friendship, beyond all barriers,
Roars and flourishes with the mighty monsoon breeze.

How many friends do I have?

‘So, do you know anyone in Thailand ?’ asked one of my friends over dinner.

‘Hmmm, do I need to know someone in Thailand?’

‘Yes! It is a country you have never been to. It helps to have a connection that will be of help just in case.’

‘Well, I don’t know anyone.’ I smiled apprehensively.

Yes, I did not know a single person in Thailand before coming here.

But every single day since I’ve been here, I meet a new friend.
Now that I think of it, I would tell my friend,
Yes, I have many friends in Thailand.
I don’t know them all yet!

They keep coming and sharing their love,
One day at a time.

Today I met many little monks at a Buddhist monastery. I don’t know names of all of them. But we smile when we pass by. They kindly shared their living space with me for the night and brought me dinner. The warm energy of comradeship surrounds the whole space.

After this brief jaunt of a few weeks around Thailand, my perception of a friend has changed.

Earlier if I were asked to count my friends, I’d make an effort.

But now, if a little kid asks,
‘How many friends do you have?’

I would only be able to say,
‘I cannot count them out. Because I am yet to meet all of them!’

To a new day,
With the promise of meeting another friend !

The lifespan of a memory

Two of my closest friends and I went out for dinner today. One of them had turned 27 and we were celebrating her existence. We made great conversation reminiscing the past, relishing the present and envisioning our future. As the evening came to a close, we had an immediate urge to capture the moment. We had three smartphones and a Polaroid camera in front of us. We chose the latter to capture the moment. As we clicked our first picture, the film emerged from the top of the camera. We found ourselves in absolute awe! We took turns to flap the film and then kept it under a napkin for it to develop. There was a feeling of anticipation to see how the picture would turn out to be. It came out so well that we couldn’t help but click two more.
As we bid goodbye, we fought over who would keep which one of the three pictures we’d clicked.
After we came to an agreement, we saw the bus I had to board approaching us.
Quickly, we took a selfie from a smartphone and shared it instantly among us using the internet.
Now we had two copies of our memories,
One physical, another virtual.

Deep down inside we all knew,
Which one would stand the test of time.
Ironically, it would be the one that will age along with us.
My copy of the poloroid picture is resting safely in my wallet.
My money is clearly ,
on the photograph !

On friendship and meaning

I had the fortune of spending time with my mother last week. And as it happens most of the time, she started telling me stories about my childhood.

She told me when I was a child, I would address every acquaintance as a friend. Be it a 5 year old boy or a 50 year old uncle. If I spent time with them they were my friends. It was interesting for them to see me call someone a friend in such short time.

This got me thinking about how I used to see a friend as a child.

My heart was open, like any other child’s. I was ready to give and receive energy and love without inhibition.

In my late teens I witnessed the advent of social media. I had hundreds of friends but with none did I share the same innocent, impromptu friendship as I did with a kind 50 year old uncle who’d help me get my kite stuck in a tree when I was little.

What has changed? And why, despite so many virtual friends, I am not deeply in touch with them.?

As I grew up, I learned to be more cautious and guarded, something that happens to everyone as they age.

Nicety was seen as naivety.
I had this outlook until not too long ago.

But lately I realized I can choose to have an open heart as a child. If I, in every interaction I have from now on, be open , sincere and loving to everyone I meet, I would make many friends. Friends who’d help just how the 50 year old uncle did.
I , in the process will find opportunities to help them. We might see each other only for a brief period, momentarily glance each other’s lives. But the open exchange of energy will make sure we meet the deepest existential need of man.

Of being remembered well.

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