Friday, 10 September 2021

Push the "Fight, not flight button"!!

September 10 marks World Suicide Prevention Day every year! This day began to be observed in 2003. Every individual has either undergone some trauma or been undergoing a bad experience over a period of time. 

The pandemic has worsened the situation, isolating people more. Work-from-home jobs, no-socializing, and no-human touch have increased cases of depression, and suicide has become a common buzzword now. Counselling centres are buzzing with ever ringing telephone lines and more people reaching out to counsellors, parenting coaches and life coaches for help. Everyone has been affected - celebs to commoners - none have been spared of depression. Social media is abuzz with videos of experts giving tips on happiness and gurus conducting wellness sessions. Motivational groups have mushroomed on WhatsApp, Telegram and other chat group apps. 

Motivational quotes are shared daily on WhatsApp statuses and Facebook as a morning and evening ritual. A sense of stagnancy and feeling of being stuck has seeped in people who are slowly losing focus and purpose to live in life. This is when individuals have begun choosing the "flight" in between the former and "fight" - flight symbolizing the need to escape somewhere and fight to symbolize how to remain in the situation using coping mechanisms. Mostly, people lose the will to "fight" and press the "flight" button. Pushing the flight button for most means leaving the world. Ironically, in most cases, it is the family which is the last to know why the person committed suicide. So, let's talk, begin a discussion, make a call and vent! It is a plea to all families, friends and relatives to look out for near and dear ones - call them! Your loved ones may or may not be in distress, but your call may remind them "fight" is the only button they should press and not the "flight" button.

Sunday, 6 May 2018

A Mom's C-Sec story

I know this comes across as weird nearly 3 years after I became a mom (rather gave birth to my son). Just like any mother, I had my set of apprehensions regarding the birth when I had conceived. I was mentally preparing myself for a natural birth yet within me, I was extremely scared too and inwardly wished for a C-Sec.

All was well (my health and the baby's health) until the 7th month when my gynaec told me that my baby is in a breech position (head up and body down) and that I might have to go in for a caesarean if the position of the head did not change. I had mixed feelings then - happily thinking I don't have to go through the labour process and simultaneously feared the thought of the operation table too. I had no "Coimbatore Parenting Network" (CPN) then, only a baby website to depend on, which kept mailing me growth newsletters regarding my foetal growth (what my baby is doing now etc). All this was virtual. But I had hardly any physical contact with other mommy groups. Now when I look back, I wish I did have one then. My birth as well as my life now would have been so different.

My reasons for a C-Sec...
These were one of my reasons for a casearean ('coz I thought there was low risk for my child). Mostly a picture surfaces in the mind of mothers when it comes too normal births - screams and curses from the labour wards, nurses yelling, anxious dads roaming around and doctors scuttling about in their white coats. Admit it, but most of us have been psyched by such scenes in real life. I was one of them too.

Importance of informed choices
Having digressed from the topic of the caesarean births, I get back to what I wanted to talk about. If I had awareness about natural birth - perhaps counselling, done research too, met the right birthing experts, I would have made the right, informed choice.

The reason I feared normal birth then, is every mom's story (even now) who is even now psyched by hospitals, doctors, the world wide web and sometimes even friends into opting for an Elective C-Sec (glossy name for a C-Sec).

Medical fraternity, marketing & refusal to take risks
Over a period of time, caesarean births have been glorified by the medical fraternity and promoted for various selfish causes (read: marketing). A C-Sec earns more revenue for hospitals than a normal birth. Most doctors also do not want to take "risks" when it comes to "complications" in pregnancy. I often wondered why hospitals never tied up with natural birthing experts and midwives. Now I know the reason.

I realized that my breech birth could have easily been a normal delivery if I had done research and found out about normal birth options and places like the Birth Village in Cochin, Kerala.

After I met this wonderful group of moms (CPN) who believed in unconventional methods of childbirth and parenting, I discovered my answers as to why most moms opted for a C-section vis-a-vis a natural birth and how different my birth could have been. I, just like moms whom I meet today, felt dejected that I did have a choice but did not know then.

CPN and how it changed me
Having worked (joined as member and then worked as admin) with CPN for nearly 3 years now, my life's perspectives completely changed. All of us have been working relentlessly to bring out women from their homes for our monthly meets and the positive sign is that more dads are attending these meets. The reason I mentioned CPN in my blog here is because they motivate women and their families to opt for more natural ways of birthing and most importantly making sure moms get to make their birthing choices (normally dictated by the medical fraternity or respective families). CPN even conducts a monthly breast milk donation for the Government Hospital's Human Milk bank at Coimbatore.

This Mother's Day, on May 13, 2018, CPN is ushering this special day by conducting a workshop on Informed Birthing choices in Coimbatore. Be there to support us!
Join the event page: https://www.facebook.com/events/166357647384610/


Saturday, 14 December 2013

Traits of the 'Y Chromosome'


1. Refuse to take help from the X chromosome...especially if its the better half. God forbid, if the X chromosome does manage to get her way and do the same work, he will make sure that its redone by him (Argghh! So much ego hassle). He thinks only he can do all the work.

2. His mood swings cannot be called by the said name. But if the X chromosome experiences the same, its referred by the same name! (Hypocrisy)

3. If there is a fight, the attitude would be "how dare you say this? I refuse to apologise." or even worse still, "These are my things in here, how dare you slam the door in my face? (it was just the wind, by the way. Poor me!)". If he slammed the door in my face, its because he thinks its his birthright to do so or rather he is angry/upset.

4. "What is there to talk" is the common catchphrase they use when forced to "discuss" issues or have a normal face-to-face chat.

5. If you politely do things for them and after a certain point expect it will be noticed, then forget it. In the worst of their "mood swings", they will question your cause and name it "compromise" and order you (in a loud voice) never to do anything for them again. So never ask to be insulted! Never raise your own volume 'coz its blasphemy. How dare you question the MAN!!

6. If he is eating "stale" food, never question him. He will keep eating it just to prove its not stale.

And there is more...

Tuesday, 17 April 2012

How it all began...

Writing was not my forte until school got over. Then I had only verbal skills to fall back upon. Words took long to form on paper. It was only when I wrote my first essay that I discovered my latent skill after which there was just no looking back for me. I recognized my love for words and saw a dream seeing my name in print. After I completed my course, I suddenly wanted to be known by my name or a ‘byline’ in the paper.

My journey began as an intern of a news daily in South India. My first day replays in my head. The room had computers dating back to the 19th century. In front of them, sat balding old men who relentlessly kept thumping the keys of the aging, yellow keyboards. I assume they were filing stories. To my right was a suave, young reporter convincing the Chief Reporter about a story he wanted to do. I walked on, lost in the din of fax machines, ringing phones and a noisy fan. An office boy was seen noisily dumping a pile of letters on a dusty table next to where I stood. As I took in a 360 degree view of the room, lost in deep thoughts, I got a slight tap on my shoulder. I turned around and found myself facing the very guy I was admiring earlier. My confused look made him realize I was new. I told him I had come for my internship. He agreed to take me to the editor, a bespectacled man, who looked up from his newspapers and introduced himself. I submitted the letter of internship issued by my institute. He took a small interview about my background and academics. After the preliminary formalities, he stretched his hand to mine and said, “Welcome to our newspaper. You will get an opportunity to do every type of work. All the best!” He assigned me to the desk head who introduced me to the staff. He showed me my seat and system where the pile of mail had been dumped earlier. I was told that my job would be to monitor the weekly events, sift through them and file the engagements for the page on a daily basis. The next half an hour went in decoding illegible handwriting in letters requesting for announcements of death anniversaries, birthdays, arangetram (dance) invitations. I promptly separated the Tamil brochures which resembled some Greek and Latin script. I looked wistfully at the black screen in front of me, trying to search for MS Word to start typing. After five minutes of futile search for the software, I asked my neighbour, a grumpy looking guy who gruffly told me “it’s a Lotus system” that functions only if one typed directory commands. Huh, finally! I gave a long sigh and began typing. After half an hour’s ordeal, I was done with the work. My senior suggested I have some “tiffin”. Tiffin in south India (mainly in Tamil Nadu) refers to meals and there is no concept of a dinner or lunch, generally. Anyway, he directed me to the canteen – literally a one-room shack where old, rusty gas stoves were placed and young boys were scurrying about to serve food to the staff. Most people had got their dabbas and were eating in their own groups. Lunch was over and I went back to resume staring at other people for work.
But trust me, this day was the most memorable for me. It still brings a smile on my face even after 7 years into my profession, as I remember my seniors there. Wish to visit them one day and thank them for mentoring me in those 2 weeks and later 4 months of professional relationship as colleagues.

P.S.: This post is not aimed to malign any news organisation nor reinforce stereotypes about journalism. I have merely added a dash of humour to the piece. I have deliberately kept the name  of the organisation anonymous. 

Tuesday, 29 November 2011

Negative energy et al

One thing in this world you cannot ignore, or change are negative people and vibes. As long as there is positive energy around, there will be negative energy too. But the trick is to find a way to break its barriers using positive thinking. As a famous author puts it: "Quit thinking that you must halt before the barrier of inner negativity. 

You need not. You can crash through... whatever we see a negative state, that is where we can destroy it." In today's competitive world, it is hard to keep away this form of destructive energy. For instance, if you get promoted or patted by your boss or even something as simple as your joy, there will be some negative people who will be utterly jealous. 

The ones who were so-called close to you, will start cold-shouldering you, become hostile and stare rudely at you as if you stabbed someone. Such elements can make you feel guilty for nothing in silence as silence is the best tool to make someone feel really bad about something that might not even exist and you might be left stewing over that fictional 'something'! 

Their purpose would be to put you down in front of someone else. For all you know it may even be a ploy to bring down your work quality so that they can shine in front of the boss. They can go all lowly attempts to show how bad your work style is. If there is a piece of gossip, they will deliberately get into a huddle and talk about it either in front of you or around you, just to make you feel out-of-place. This normally happens when one enters a new organization. The newbie may be struggling to learn and understand the 'ropes of trade'. Instead of making him or her feel welcome and make it more approachable, there will be similar attempts as above to create negative energy. Older the person in an organization, more is the hostility shown by them towards a newbie for varied reasons, unknown to even God, I suppose! One could only guess the reasons. Yet, it is a sad fact that instead of showing initiative in encouraging the newbie to enter a group or breaking ice with the individual, it is often seen that the fresher to the organization (despite having completed a respectable number of years in the field) is made to feel guilty that he or she has yet not picked up the culture of the workplace. 

The older experienced guys should remember that they had also started as freshers at some point of time. If they went through a rough training or rude seniors, does not mean that one has to be rude to the new people who join. This becomes particularly important when the so-called fresher is attempting something totally new that he may not have done all his professional life. He or she should be praised and lauded at every step that he is taking in the new field and the organization instead of putting him or her on a total guilt trip! The vicious cycle could only entail in increasing chances of attrition in an organization. It is up to the HR to keep a close tab if the fresher is undergoing any struggle to 'fit' into the team dynamics.

This you may wonder is my story and an attempt to make it sound fictional. Thats not the case. It happens everywhere in a very covert fashion. No one really notices it and of course, choose to ignore it. The 'seniors' of the workplace if made aware of this growing trend, shrug their shoulders and react emotionlessly saying "either the fresher/newbie is oversensitive or overreacting. There is nothing to worry!"

This maybe my ranting on negativity and many may even ask me this question: Charity begins at home. What have you done to tone down negativity at the workplace? I am proud to say that I have mentored and helped many newbies feel at home, at my level - many still thank me till this day! I believe if one tones down negativity, the workplace will grow, and it will mean lesser attrition! 

I can only hope that a day will come when one leaves an organization not because of politics, but better opportunities elsewhere.

Thursday, 20 January 2011

7 Years as a scribe: Ups and Downs

I complete seven long years in journalism in August 2011. I wonder what I have gained and what I have lost. Lets begin on a positive note: what have I gained? An identity of my own (of being a scribe), working on my terms (thats a bit ironical, though!), writing (which was my childhood dream and I do intend to be a successful writer someday), and finally I have managed to reach a senior level (that is also ironical...I would ask: at what cost?). What do I do with seniority and a high paying job when I am still not doing what I always wanted to do? (Delhiites would say: toh kya hua! iska achar daalun kya main? - In literal terms, it would mean: Should I 'pickle' (achar) the salary and designation?).

So, what have I lost: precious relationships, my self-respect and probably much more...I am still proud that I am a journalist! But am not proud of the fraternity that I am part of - day in and day out. For long, I supported journalism, was an idealist and activist. I fought with my mom, tooth-and-nail to remain in this field, gave her all the possible arguments like a lawyer! 

Finally, after having entered this field, been there for 7 years now, I feel like a fool thanks to members of the fraternity of whom I was proud of, for a long time. I am compelled to bring this done-to-death topic here, on this forum, 'coz all my friends in the media agree with me and am thankful to all those who stood by me like a wall whenever I wanted to break down! 

I would call myself a 'solitary reaper' in this field, trying to find my place here. I realized it is a futile task trying to prove myself. Long ago, as an intern for a reputed newspaper in the south, my news editor had given me a tip on my last day there. This is what he said: If u can prove yourself in the desk, u can shine as a writer. He was partly right. I did do well in the desk for a while and used to write well too. But after a few years, I started realizing that desk was not my cup of tea. Yet I persisted, giving myself chances repeatedly. 

Never thinking that it had been a Himalayan blunder of my life to become a sub-editor! Now that 7 years have passed, I want to break the vicious cycle that is consuming me; follow my heart and resume writing! I know there are a whole lot of risks involved: I would have to financially sustain myself and also incur my mom's wrath for taking another plunge into an unknown abyss. But, I am willing to take a risk 'coz this time, I do not want to lose myself again.

Thursday, 6 January 2011

A few rhymes stir childhood memories...

    Malayalam

Kaake kaake koodevide
Kootinakathoru kunjundo
Kunjinu theeta kodukkaanjal
Kunju kidannu karanyeedum
Kaake kaake nee tharumo
Ninnude kayyile neyappam

Betty bought some batter butter,
But she found the butter bitter;
So she bought some better butter,
To make the bitter batter better

Baa, baa, black sheep
     Have you any wool?
Yes sir, Yes sir,
     Three bags full:
One for my master,
     And one for his dame,
And one for the little boy
     Who lives down the lane

Ding dong bell,
    Pussy in the well;
Who put her in?
    Little Tommy Thin.
Who pulled her out?
    Little Tommy Stout.
What a naughty boy was that
    To drown poor pussy cat.

Cobbler, cobbler mend my shoe,
Get it done by half past two,
Stitch it up and stitch it down
And I'll give you half a crown.