Bed of clouds

On a bed of clouds,

Your head shall rest.

Glide you will,

On quiet whispers.

Gently this earth shall thee hold,

Loved, embraced by more than flesh and bones.

Despair not for what you don't see or touch,

But know the soul is held up high.

Your body and your soul will be held,

With dignity, love, and grace unmatched.

 

For a soul without rancor or deceit,

Might be shunned by kings and queens.

But the maker that sees the soul,

Will not abandon a soul not marked,

And therefore pure.

With head held high

Live and love you shall.

Megh (Clouds)

She is draped in lushness,

Pristine, enduringly beautiful.

Life and love spring forth,

From this medley of interfusion.

Soaked, wet, green, ready.

No, not kama, or perhaps is,

Of the elements and their interplay. 

The blanket, they nuzzle under, 

A cold, or is it a warm grey?

In this timeless seasonality.

When hope, joy and creation abound. 

Evoking songs, poems, romance, 

From the depths of souls.

From slumber and harshness does spring forth,

A tapestry of greens, blues and tufts of white strewn asunder.

Mother earth reclaims her moment, her time, her life.

Another season, another cycle does begin,

Fresh, new, sparkling, zesty, crisply young again. 

Aaahhhhh the joys, the joys of "baarish", "rain", "....barson re megha, barson...".

(Original pics. "...barson re megha, barson..." lyrics from the movie Guru, song by A.R.Rehman)

Abusive effects...

I am sharing this story here because I think it is relevant to us as human beings – how we treat each other – husband treats wife, wife treats husband, mother treats her father/mother, father treats his…etc. while we are all aware and most often than not, know how to behave in public places and with people in a social setting – how we treat the intimate relationships in our lives – is something that we sometimes forget to pay heed to. I am sharing a case here because it really rattled me and I thought it is imperative that I share it. 

Most people do not understand the repercussions of seemingly innocuous actions – I had a counselee crying her eyes out - cause her son who is 15 years old was touching her inappropriately. He wakes up in the night and goes to her bedroom where she sleeps with her husband and child and touches her. Happened on a couple of occasions till they realized that he needs help. 

She was in tears; the father was livid and would beat him. 

And then, through the course of the session, I figured that the father would routinely abuse the wife – not physically, but verbally and the child never learnt to respect his own mother. 

Now they are struggling with teaching the child “respect” …after he has grown up seeing his mother being treated as an object…how? And if he sees his mother as a mere sexual object – how will his worldview be of other women? 

There is a growing population of single women – why? 

It is high time that as a society we correct the wrongs that we didn’t know we did. 

Cause now we know better.

Please be very careful about how you treat each other – no matter what the occasion or the reason. It is not ok to shout or scream at each other, abuse in any form is not ok – be it taking it or giving it. It is not what we say – it is how we say it – the tone, the body language – it all adds up. 

Speak up if you are being abused, speak up if you see abuse.

Deepti Jacob (DJ)
Chief Psychologist
Sitara: Center for emotional counselling  

Wide Wild World

Endurance ride anybody?

Whazzzat???

Read on…

 

Have you ever felt your soul jump for joy?

Ever felt your body absolutely done for but with energy still left to climb a mountain?

A smile a kilometer wide plastered across your face from ear to ear!

That is exactly what I felt for 3 days this weekend.

Why?

But first let’s get the stats out of the way.

1. Places covered:

Day 1: 450 km. Travel time (As per Google) 9.30 hours	Day 2: 470 km. Travel time (As per Google) 12.00 hours	Day 3: 240 km. Travel time (As per Google) 5.00 hours
·         Nelamangala ·         Hassan ·         Aldur ·         Balehonnur ·         Nagalapura Bridge (Tunga river) ·         Agumbe ·         Kundapura ·         Marvante ·         Bhatkal	·         Jog falls ·         Sagara ·         Thirthalli ·         Agumbe ·         Belthangady ·         Uppinangady ·         Puttur ·         Sullia ·         Madikeri ·         Virajpet	·         Gonikoppa ·         Hunsur ·         Srirangapatna ·         Mandya ·         Ramnagara ·         Bangalore

2. Total distance covered: 1200 approx (depending on where in the city you started from)

3. Total hours in the saddle: 37 approx hours

4. 13 riders

This is what IBR (India Bull Riders) calls an “Endurance ride”. Why “endurance” well the stats speak for themselves.
Is it a test of man or machine?
Both.

This time around the plan was to pay our respects to the grand Sahyadri Mountain range.

Roads that incessantly snaked its way across little hamlets and villages strewn across with gay abandon. With barely a few hours of riding across straight roads, this is a biker’s paradise, as you lean your bike from the left to the right and then repeat, on and on, hour after hour.

Through thick jungles, dense fog, sweltering heat, bone numbing cold and lashing rain we rode as one. We saw all seasons and all terrains in those three days. From beaches to rivers to gushing streams to towering mountains to plains thicketed with carpets of green.

I had got a dear friend to pick up some riding gear from the US of A and with the help of several kind souls I got those just a day before the ride (the journey those things took was epic in itself!). And I managed to use them on this ride. Amongst the things I bought was a Sena 50C.

The video that is part of this blog has been made using this (some pics are courtesy fellow riders). The videos have only been strung together and have not been edited in anyway. Easy to use, an all-in-one communicator, that I found to be a nifty piece of tech.

And so, the 13 of us endured, without a single breakdown of either man or machine (by the grace of whichever God each of us believed in). Some bio stops had leeches crawling up our rain gear, some had cats and dogs and people befriending us as they saw these alien looking beings pass through their front yards. For those 3 days it did not matter to any of us where we came from, who we were, what we did, or anything else. All that mattered was that we ride together, the epitome of ‘all-for-one-and-one-for-all’ for we are as strong as the weakest link. If one of us had an issue the entire ride would have been affected. Thankfully that wasn’t the case and what did happen was incredible riding, amazing roads, phenomenal vistas, interesting foods, and tons of adventurous memories.

And before I run out of adjectives, catch you around.
God Speed, until our next adventure.
Thanks for reading/watching.   

 

Roaring 50's into the 11's!

I want you to picture this – thump…thump…thump…at regular intervals. Sort of like your heart beating.  Now I want you to multiply that thump by 50+. 

Can you hear it? 

The thump is now a ROOOOOAAAAAARRRRRRRrrrrr…

A roar from the heart, from the soul and from motorbike engines that range from 350 to 900 cc.

All thumping as one.

Now let’s add some visuals to this auditory symphony. A chain of pearls – a string of lights – extending almost as far as the eyes can see, on roads that were winding till where the sky kissed the tarmac.

56 bikes, riding in tandem.
56 riders putting aside all and any differences.
56 bikes moving as one united column. 

Now, imagine being part of this scene. The “feeling”, the “sensation”, the “feel”…cannot truly be described, like Mohit Chauhan sang in the movie Rockstar - “Jo Bhi Main, Kehna Chahoon Barbaad Karein, Alfaaz Mere, Alfaaz Mere”…. 

That’s the scene that greeted whoever shared the highways with us on July 1^st, 2023. The highways that lead from Bangalore to Belur. And all those who saw it, reacted in more ways than one. 

Some gave us the thumbs up, some made videos, some took pictures, some came and chatted up with some of us, some waved at us, some gaped at us with mouth’s almost wide open. But, all reacted. For it is not a scene that doesn’t touch the soul in some way.

Why?

Perhaps, because it takes a different kind of person to not just be part of one cohesive whole, giving up on their “ego” and their “individualism”. Each rider owning or riding motorbikes that are so disparate – ranging from the very modern and oh-so-fast Triumph Tigers to the Super Meteors to the Thunderbirds and the Classics and the Electras and the Standards of the world (the oldest bike being a 1984 cast iron Bullet owned, maintained and ridden by a very passionate female biker). We had bikes that could do 202 km/hr. to the cast iron that can just about push 80/hr.! We had female riders and male riders. We had bikers in all shapes, sizes and colors. From different social and economic backgrounds. But all of that came to naught when the engines roared, for they roared as one.

When battalions learn to march as one or fight as one, it comes with hours of practice, years of discipline, hours of drills and very regimented living. But when we pick up our bikes on a “ride-day”, mostly before the sun comes up, we meet complete strangers, we shake hands with those we don’t know and hug those we do. We are not man or woman. We are riders. The road doesn’t discriminate basis our gender and we don’t discriminate either, once we are astride our steel horses, and geared up in our motorcycling gear.

And then with no prior practice, no early morning drills, nothing, we still come together as one. We ride at the pace set by the “*Lead” , we do not overtake, we do not “show-off”, we have nothing to prove. There is no “race” of any kind. And we thump together, creating this incredible experience. We leave no one behind and for a brief period, in our shared history – on those days – we all share a bond, an experience, that families will strive to emulate. Most often, then not, we do not know each other’s last names, designations, status, religion, caste...nothing. But we do know what bikes each ride, their unique riding style etc. And on that ride, we are more than family.

This though comes with a Caveat. Not all riding clubs follow this level of discipline or the same kind of bond.

Why do I say this?

Cause I am most grateful for having had the pleasure and privilege of having ridden with a few other clubs (16 years of riding is a lot of riding and that sees clubs wax and wane, hence…) and I can with utmost surety say that nobody does it like India Bull Riders (IBR). I started riding with this club by fluke back in 2014 and since then have ridden several thousand kms with this club to some fantastic destinations. And IBR has stayed true to the ethos it was built on. No person rides alone, we all ride together, irrespective of the bike we ride. And if we have a problem with that, we are politely but firmly shown the door!

Here is to this club and several more decades of being true to the spirit that is the biking brotherhood, the rider fraternity. Proud and grateful to be part of this incredible experience and this club. 

Proud IBRian.

P.S: (For those not from the motorcycling fraternity, *"Lead" is the position right in the front. There are several other important positions in "group riding" some of them are - "Marshals" - those who move up and down the column conveying important messages and keeping the group in check, the Sweep - one of the most important of positions since this has to be a rider with the most experience and maturity and is fully capable of handling most situations on the road and who rides at the extreme end of the group.) 

(All pics are courtesy of several IBR's members)

Are “strong” people, really “strong"?

“You are strong”. 

“You can handle anything”.

“You don’t need anything or anybody”.

Ever heard any of these statements?

Ever said any of these to anybody you know?

If yes, please read on.

I am one of those who have these statements, several times, being said by different people and on different occasions. And it got me thinking.

Is it true?

Am I strong?

Simple answer.

No.

I am not strong and most who are termed “strong” are not either. We are just as emotional, just as sensitive and just as vulnerable as anybody else. Infact perhaps more so. Why?

Because like the famous idiom: “The crying baby gets the milk.” Or “The squeaky wheel gets the grease”. The ones who are termed “Strong” do not cry out, do not reach out, do not ask for help. And so, they don’t get the help that they might need. They instead stew deep within and grapple with their demons and their problems and their emotional hurt, all on their own. You could be sitting right next to them and you wouldn't know when they are breaking within, or a tear is rolling down their face. They have become adept at hiding their grief and their pain, they have mastered the art of screaming within their souls without so much as pip-squeak escaping their lips. They would have a smile plastered on their face; they will go through all the motions of being perfectly ok, happy even! But deep within they might be breaking a little by little.

“Strong” is a façade that they have carefully built. The emotions they experience are just as deep and sometimes much more hurtful cause they keep it within, deeply buried.

It is important to understand how and when these facades were built. Cause when we understand something we can help, those who need it and when they need it.

I can tell you from personal experience and from interacting with several others, in my capacity as a Counselling Psychologist, that these facades were not built overnight. Nobody is born “strong”. They have needed to build these defenses to keep themselves from being further hurt.

Most often than not, these facades were built because they had no choice. Circumstances did not allow them to be vulnerable, to feel sad for themselves, to grieve, to cry, to express their sadness or their grief and their pain stayed buried. They have had to pick up the pieces and move on. All on their own steam. The reasons could be plenty - nobody around who cared enough to wipe away their tears, they didn’t want to hurt others, self-respect that forbade them from breaking down in front of others, life beating down on their doors and not according them the time and space to grieve…etc etc. When you see a “strong” person or interact with them, understand this – the toughest steel goes through the harshest of fires. Ask yourselves – what made them strong? What demons or ‘valleys of death’ have they had to fight or crawl through to get here? Cause I can tell you with certainty. None of us were born “strong”. So, look a little deeper and you will see the pain and hurt that lurks there.

Why is it important to understand this?

Because:

Between 2020 and 2021, too, there was a 7.1 per cent increase. In 2021, 1.64 lakh people took their own lives, according to the NCRB. The suicide rate jumped to 11.3 in 2020 and was at a record high at 12 in 2021. According to the WHO estimates, India has the 41 ^st highest suicide rate globally, as of 2019.

(Source: https://www.thehindubusinessline.com/data-stories/deep-dive/is-economic-distress-causing-a-spike-in-suicide-deaths-in-india/article66635113.ece)

 

The National Mental Health Survey (NMHS) 2015–16 found that almost 80% of those suffering from mental illnesses did not receive treatment for more than a year. The Indian government has been criticized by the media for its mental health care system, which is linked to the high suicide rate. (Source: https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Suicide_in_India#:~:text=Mental%20illness,-A%20large%20proportion&text=The%20National%20Mental%20Health%20Survey,to%20the%20high%20suicide%20rate.)

The people who need help do not get it. simply because they won’t ask for it and because people around them do not see the signs.

So, if you know someone “strong”, and if you care for them – as a relative, as a family member, as a

Fort Aguada Jail, Goa

friend, as a partner, as a colleague, as a parent, as a child, – take the time to look a little deeper. And remember, they are “strong” they have taken the effort to build that façade they won’t come to you asking for help…the signs are not visible. Hence, the best way to help them is to spend time with them, allow them to open up to you, give them the space to do so. This will take time. And in that time show real concern and real care. Allow them to feel safe and secure opening up to you. Honour their trust and never let it be broken – cause that fort they built which now is their prison, was built brick by brick, with instances of people and events that let them down – in more ways than one. Don’t assume that a “strong” person has it all figured out. Understand that they are just as human as you. And hurt just as deep as you. So, if they are not bringing their problems to you – and you happen to be one of their ‘inner-circle”, don’t assume that all is well. It seldom is.

Silken Threads

Like a hapless little fly, unsuspecting,

Walked into the trap did I

A trap woven, of silken threads,

Shimmering with the promise of years of bliss, togetherness,

Love and all the sweet little nothings, oft spoken, but never fulfilled.

 

When the realization did dawn,

Squirmed did I, trying to break free, with all my might.

But those shackles of law, oh those shackles,

Slippery, rusty, held strong, tight, in vicelike grip.

 

The more I wriggled and squirmed,

These silken threads held strong, wound dearer.

Days rolled by into years and years into decades,

But those silken threads yielded not.

As I lie gazing up at that sky

Watching flies flit by,

Those years gone by forever.

 

My tomb I carry, wound tight around me,

Another day, another week, another year.

Waiting for death's sweet release,

From these shackles, holding dear.

And I'll flit once more in the yonder,

Free at last, from those shimmering silken shackles, that'll no longer hold dear.