Spark Joy!

I have been watching "Tidying Up" on Netflix featuring petite cleaning sensation Marie Kondo. Her konmari method is based on the philosophy of joy. Keep only the things that "spark joy", she says in her Japanese accent. Marie is also a master folder, and has a technique of folding clothes - usually in thirds - so that they fold into a smooth rectangle that can be stacked vertically. This both makes for neatness and maximises space.

Today, another thing that sparked joy besides my little daily cleaning has been a meeting with Dr. Vikram Patel. I put forward my proposal with Echo to Dr. Patel, who is an eminent psychiatrist dealing with mental health issues globally. Clearly this was daunting because he could quickly spot flaws in my argument. This time I came quite prepared. I had a good presentation and answers to most of his questions.

Today sparked joy.

I find it difficult to toe the line between arrogance and under-confidence. I'm usually on one side or the other. Today I went in fairly prepared, both with the presentation and with expectations, which were quite low. I went in thinking that my idea may be dismissed completely. But with Kartik by my side helping me prepare and present my case to Dr. Patel, I felt confident enough to defend my idea, clear any doubts, and answer questions sufficiently. I also made sufficient headway in terms of progress at the first meeting, and have enough to go on to ask for a second meeting. That already is enough.

We have what it takes to take this project forward. All we need now is funding. Granted that is a big ask, but at the same time, having Sangath and Dr. Vikram Patel by our side is a huge achievement. To be honest, even Kartik and Echo had not yet managed a meeting with Dr. Patel, but now they finally have. Dr. Patel already knew about Sangath and he already has a meeting planned with Dr. Arora. Kartik did not know about this, or did not know that it would be brought up at the meeting, but Dr. Patel apparently has spoken already to Sanjeev Arora and they will be having a meeting next week. So that's very good.

A lot of steps need to be taken to ensure that we are taken seriously. Small steps, like business cards. Medium steps, like a website, and large steps, like registering the organisation formally. I will need Blessin on board for this. I guess that's a nicer way to say, aaaaaaaaaah paaanic, Blessin!

So, all in all a good day. I worked for hours at 91springboard right after the meeting with Dr. Patel. I might take up a work-space over there at Nehru Place. I think the chair arrangement suits me far better because I like having my little corner in the cafe area. So I'll work for another day tomorrow and try to see if it works out with Blessin to finance a chair in the other area. Tomorrow I'll also speak to Google for Entrepreneurs and see what kind of support and funding is available over there.

Had a good catch-up and meeting with Blessin today too. Talked about how to take Sahaayta forward, and honestly talked about my financial situation which was good to do, because someone needs to know about that. 

Laying down the law

Lay down the rules
of the ground
on the ground.

Draw lines
on both sides of the ruler:
the line they cannot cross,
and the line you will not.

Observe
the two lines
Separated
by a space
As
flat and fat like a ruler,

as
Fat and flat like a ruler.


a poem after a long while, and perhaps not a very good one, 
but still a start.

How To Prepare

* Write a list:
* Wash your hair in the morning.
* Do your jobs - remember all the mini-tasks.
* Set an auto-response for the time you are away. .
* Set reminders for when you are back.
* Say goodbyes.
* Pick up the shopping left over at the store.
* Go to the parlour. Get hair done.
* Do the packing at home; gifts, clothes, medicines, telephones, chargers, money, all that stuff.
* Oh yes! Passport! Ticket! Pen!
* Maybe also paper
* Say goodbyes (again).
* Make a list. A new one.

Insomnia

Some window seems to be banging against the sill,
and I cannot find it.
I'm afraid I know which window it is,
and of what I may find behind it..
The dogs have been barking, that cannot be good.
This is a very very quiet, dark neighbourhood.
I live alone; I'm afraid of being alone,
I wouldn't like living with someone.
and I'm afraid I'm not alone...

Where I am

Since this is the place where people say you should start, I'll start with where I am. I'm in a nice little place in Lajpat Nagar, New Delhi. It is what I like to call a railway-compartment style apartment, with one room after another. You have to pass through the salon to get to my roommate's room, then you go into the dining room to reach my room at the very end with a tiny balcony. The best part of this place - which I admit is slight underused - is the roof. It has a view of the nearby garden, many many trees, and of course the buildings in the area. On some days it is nice to go upstairs in good weather, with a tea or a cigarette and take it all in, and breathe it all out. It's been two years in Delhi, and they've been a bit of a roller-coaster. I must say though that I've been a little happier when it's been harder. It has worked out. I have had great help. A very good counsellor, supportive family and friends - some of them have been doling wisdom that I only took up later, and then realized what a difference it made. I've come through - a little better, a little stronger than I thought I would. There's still a lot of questions, a lot of areas where I feel lost. I'm learning, though, and I know more than I did before to deal with the newer questions. We're all in the same boat.

I'm coming back

Arriving in Cairo

So we meet again – Cairo and I – sooner than I thought we would. I had left in August, promising to come back in December, and somewhere after a month into life as a Dilli ki Billi, I realized I had not been making enough, and that coming back would inevitably mean an attack of nostalgia and longing that would be difficult to resist. 

And sure enough, already on day one, before I even stepped on to Egyptian soil, I found myself wondering if it would not be good to come back. Any thoughts of the nature were immediately changed after Mom’s reaction. She didn’t know I was headed home for the winter holiday season when she opened the door with: “Tu? Kyoon? Too kaise aa gayee?” (“You? Why? What made you come back?”). And immediately she asked if this meant I had left India. I said no it was a surprise. “Good, then you can stay now. We can go back together, in September.” 
 

And all the while she claimed not to be (happily) surprised, she was dialing up my Dad. 

-          “I can’t reach Chitra. I don’t know where she’s been.”  (yes, we Kalyani siblings get it from our parents.)

-          “I just spoke to her this morning.”

-          “Yes, but I tried again, and I cannot reach her. I don’t know where she could be.”

At this point I took the phone from Mom.

-          “Yes, this girl roams out too late at night. That’s just how she is….”

And Dad starts laughing, “Very good. Hahaha. Very good.” 

And after a very short-lived sense of satisfaction at my arrival, they both launch into complaints about how they could have asked me to bring stuff from India. Here, may it be noted, I had told my Mom that “a friend” (for I am on good terms with myself) would be visiting in case she would like anything.

Mom’s told a few people since.

The taste of home.

Before I came to Cairo, I had made a mental list of three things I’d ask Mom to cook for me. In the span of a day she’s already made me those three dishes. The first was tomato curry, I’d written it down somewhere in Delhi, and when I arrived, without me asking, the first thing Mom puts into the cooker are tomatoes to boil for a curry. She seems to always instinctively know. And Mom always shows her love through food. If you don’t get asked to eat when you are at my place, it’s usually not a good sign. So after all her shock and surprise, her first question was, “Do you want to eat?” I took some tea first, and then for dinner we ate curry. Nothing tastes better than home food.

Ta3m el beyout fe shaware3
Ta3m el shaware3 beyout….
- Massar Egbari, Ta3m el beyout

I also had another dinner planned. I had to see Corinna before she left for Germany, and so we decided to meet with MattMatt for some Sudanese food in Dokki. Peanut sauce with eggplant, bread and Lentil Fattah, and some beef curry that I insisted on smelling since I wouldn’t eat it. MattMatt tolerated all this. We mostly talked about Corinna’s cat Fayrouz. All through my walk from Zamalek to Dokki with Matt, I regaled him with repeated expressions of “I’m so happy.” 

I am so happy. I don’t know why it’s such a big deal. I guess because it feels like stolen happiness, like this all could easily not have been. And I’ve been stealing it since my last night. 

For a small reason, the last night in India was a bit of a disappointment. Thanks to Stephanie, an old friend from grad school, I have a small jade stone with “Courage” engraved on it. I had carried it in my pocket, and it had carried me through the day. I felt in my pocket for the stone when my heart felt like it was about to sink. And it was where the phone was when Neeraj called back and said I should come over to his birthday party after all. When my plans for the evening did not pan out, I took up the offer and arrived at his doorstep with my bags. I spent the night dancing with and getting to know what I'd now happily consider some very good friends: Revati, Judith, Melodika. The plan was to leave from Neeraj's place to the airport at 4 am. At 2 the party started to wind down, and by three-ish I got into Melodika’s car, and she offered to drop me at the airport. It all worked out!

MattMatt had given me the book “The Buddha in Daily Life” when I was going to India. I read it on my way back to Cairo. Like the stone, it is one more thing holding me together.

On Amman to Cairo, there was a man sat next to me whose bag-tag said “El Warsha Theatre.” I asked him if he was indeed from the theatre, and mentioned I’d worked with D-CAF that had worked with their company. He turned out to be the founder of El Warsha. We had a long discussion which he punctuated with many quotes, anecdotes about people I knew, people we knew… I had actually forgotten all my Cairo money in India, and had planned to take a taxi home and pay by borrowing money from the kiosque downstairs, as I had done on so many occasions before. I didn’t have to. My flight companion offered to drop me home as his driver was coming to pick him up, and we were both happy to extend our conversation in which we discovered common friends and books and authors we loved.

I looked around Cairo – the sun beat warm upon as when we were outside the airport, a welcome reprieve from Delhi’s sunless winters, and as I arrived home there was a beautiful yellow sun setting over Zamalek. We drove down into Agouza, and I was happy happy happy.

I haven’t stopped saying it since. I am happy.

“You? Why? What made you come back?” she asks.