Half Life Period

I am beginning this post with a heavy heart.

Our Higher Secondary Chemistry teacher, Ms.Cecily passed away on Sunday and her funeral was today. Chapters keep closing around me and it reminds me of how one's life span is not for one to determine. And also how some of us are given more than others, for which we need to be grateful.

Having turned 50 about two months ago, I look back at how things went and then look ahead with curiosity.

But before that, an interesting anecdote:

I used to be the bell ringer in school in twelfth grade, not because of some innate bell ringing capability, but because my classroom was closest to the electric bell installed on a wall in the corridor. I used to sit in the first row just so I could walk out fast, ring the bell and walk back into the classroom as quickly as I walked out.

I had been doing this for a few months and had gotten the knack of not overthinking this..50 minutes wasn't a life time, so keeping track was not a monumental task. But obviously, once in a while, you obsess. And obsess I did, in Ms.Cecily's class once. I kept looking at my watch 10 minutes before bell time, and every 15 seconds thereafter. Why? I really don't know. But after a few not so surreptitious looks at my watch, she stopped teaching, looked straight at me and said," Kavitha, I think there is almost 5 more minutes for the bell to be rung and you, staring at your watch every 15 seconds, will not make it happen sooner!". Man, was I embarrassed! Embarrassed enough that I stopped looking at my watch altogether and forgot to ring the bell, only to see Vaigai, our Track star run past our class and ring the bell(which literally jolted me out of my state of rest), and walk past really, really slowly giving me the 'Look' - daggers maybe?? Ms.Cecily started grinning and all I could do was look extremely apologetic and wonder how to explain the fracas to Vaigai. Soulmate yes, but, being late to ring the bell.....sworn enemy!

When you have lived a half century, there are so many memories, good and bad. 

Some define us and what we are and how we've made ourselves into who we are. Reading has always been my first love and it is probably tied into my laziness, but my fondest memories are of books, passages from books that moved me, characters that I could identify with, locales that have made me yearn to visit them. And mostly, the memory of my dad indulging me by buying me books. I am returning the favor now, and hope he enjoys the experience. And my writing skills are directly related to my reading tastes.

 Some are painful and worth forgetting but stay on and no amount of scrubbing helps. The loss of my Ayah, my nanny, and the last time I saw her, she'd had a stroke and didn't recognize me, but when she did, the tears that she and I shed.....a dagger to my heart to this day.

 Some are joyful, giving us the same fulfilment every time we revisit them in our mind. Too many to list, but here's one: the feel of your firstborn as they lay him on your belly, still wet and slippery after birth. My first thought: He looks like me! I don't think he looks like me anymore, good!!

Some are pure bliss; I just have to look at my spouse to remember. My room mate in freshman year mentioning this kid in her class who was a total gentleman, unlike the other boors. Someone who always made sure the girls in the lab classes were also allowed to participate equally. Didn't think back then, that this person would be mine, all mine.

Some are embarrassing enough you want to forget them and sweep them under the rug, but they keep popping into your mind all the time. Like the time I accidentally hugged a perfect stranger and called her Mom..Whoa!! I was probably 6,  it was dark, but still, embarrassing.

Some are worth revisiting, just to see them from a new perspective- for me mostly it is tied in to Noe. My worry about him, his deficits glaringly there for me to see..his inablity to distinguish colors comes to mind. But looking back, that was not the point at all. The Maori word for Autism is "Takiwatanga", meaning," in their own time and space". I have finally figured out his time and space and it is so much better than mine. There is no anger, jealousy, sadness, rancor and evil in his space. Wish we could all inhabit it. This is a kid who walked with a broken foot to a mall because his teacher made him. Stoic because, in his space, pain is what it is. You live it. He is way more patient with his mom who sometimes barks at him and asks him to not yell, and asks him to keep quiet, or asks him to make difficult choices like what he wants for dinner! Nothing angers him, no one hurts his feelings. There is no evil around at all. Good memories all!!

So yes, 50 years worth of memories is a good place to learn from.

The most important lesson I've learnt? Life is a huge wheel, Buddha was right! Things happen and then happen again. You are the one that changes. Or needs to change. Life has the same beginning and end for all of us, and pretty much identical in between, especially if you zoom out. You need to stay alive, manage relationships and conflicts and take joy in life's pleasures both big and small, take consolation in life's sorrows, and go on and eventually bow out. Memories give you a better handle on dealing with things if they come around again.

So at this midway point in life( actually, way beyond the midway point, but let's be optimistic), I think leaving behind great memories is the goal. Like Takiwatanga, create a space full of calm and contentment, of happiness and tranquility. And if everyone could share that time and space, bliss indeed.

P.S: This one is for Manjal Manju who reminded me that I hadn't written much in a while...three posts in one day..okay Manju?