Poornima Manco

Author

2021

Death

by

Ah, Death

my old friend,

here you are again

 

I thought I’d slipped past you,

the last time we met

like we were strangers

not intimately acquainted

by our last go-around

 

I was embarrassed

and scared

I’ll admit

because we nearly went the distance

and then, we didn’t

 

You met someone else,

they were more interesting

and you let go of my hand

but only for a moment

 

Now here you are

smiling down at me

like you’d never left

like I’d never wilfully

forgotten you

 

And here I am

 

Gasping out my last breath,

saying goodbye to all I know and love

putting my faith in you once again

 

This time, you whisper,

it’s for keeps

and I believe you

 

The threshold is only a million miles

and a slim vapour away

 

My hand is cold in yours

but you lead me strongly

confidently

towards

that which has always awaited me.

 

(written for a friend who passed recently after battling cancer)

 

 

 

 

 

What’s love got to do with it?

by

Last week I was watching an episode of ‘Kim’s Convenience’, a wonderful, heartwarming sitcom from Canada, when something about the storyline struck me. In it, a co-worker signed a card to his boss with ‘Love, xyz’. Later, the boss (female, single, attractive) questioned why he’d signed love, if he didn’t mean it. Which got me thinking how cavalierly we use the word love to define all sorts of emotions, how the essence of this emotion has been diluted through the overuse, and sometimes, misuse of it.

As a child, an aunt would always send me birthday cards signed ‘Affectionately, xyz’. I didn’t think to question it. There was, after all, a lot of affection there. In an attempt to emulate her, I also started signing my cards the same way in my teens. I remember being accused of being uptight because ‘Love, xyz’ was the commonplace inscription used by all and sundry, and my ‘Affectionately’ signalled a reluctance to be loving towards my peers. Maybe, even back then, at some level I baulked at the oversimplification of a complex emotion like love.

Today, I hear so many ‘love you’s’ being thrown about it makes my head spin. It also makes me wonder, what does love mean to these people? Would they throw themselves in front of a bus for me? Would they care for me if I was bedridden? Would they forgive me anything? Because, inherently, that’s what true love is about.

That’s not to say that love should be difficult or conditional, but it’s not a word that should be bandied about in so careless a fashion. And the sad fact is, it is fashionable to use ‘love’ to describe any emotion that you are too lazy to define.

“I love that painting!”

“I love chips!”

“Love you!”

Yes, I get it. It conveys a depth of emotion, but really, if there is that much love being spread around, why is there still so much strife in the world?

By all means, love and love deeply. But caring, fondness, affection, attraction, desire, excitement, passion are all valid emotions that don’t need to be clustered under the large beach umbrella called love. There are so many nuances to life and to our feelings, and love is the purest emotion of them all. Let’s not dumb it down to mean everything. Because then it will mean nothing at all.

 

50 Not Out!

by

My father had once told me that life is as unpredictable as cricket. Taking the metaphor further, I can happily report that I have hit my half century with élan. During days of Covid that is not a blessing to be sneezed at! I fully expected to feel some sadness at leaving my youth behind so definitively. Instead, all I feel is a sharp sense of relief. At no point in my life have I ever felt so sure of myself, so comfortable in my skin, and so content with my lot.

Alongside, I’ve learnt quite a few lessons too. This is hard won wisdom, and in detailing it here, my intent isn’t to bore you, but to remind myself how far I’ve come from that gauche, awkward young girl setting foot into her twenties. Of course, there is no end to learning and in the years to come, I hope to amass many more life lessons. However, where I stand today, these are my little nuggets of sagacity. Do with them what you will.

  1. Forgive. My goodness me! If only I’d known how liberating this was. Conventional wisdom always dictated to forgive and forget. I’ve been terrible at both. But as I approached my 50th birthday, all those petty grudges and long-held resentments seemed to fall away. I really didn’t want to carry any of it into my fifth decade. So, my mantra has become forgive, but don’t forget. If someone has wronged me repeatedly, then I’d be a fool to let them do it again. But I will forgive because I do not want to carry the burden of my anger into the future. If I’ve wronged someone, I hope they can find it in their heart to forgive me too.
  2. Ask, don’t assume. Another one of my failings has been to jump to conclusions, often erroneous ones. With only half the information at hand, one can often make totally wrong assumptions. Isn’t it better to just ask, politely? Clarify rather than hypothesize? It’s already serving me well, as I just ask outright if I’m perplexed by someone’s behaviour. More often than not, it turns out to be the most innocuous thing.
  3. Say No and mean it. Aha! This takes many years to solidify into a behaviour choice, especially if you are a people pleaser like me. But, but, but… Time is not an infinite resource. It is up to you to decide where and what you want to spend it on. In my case, I’ve decided that I would rather say no at the very outset than not deliver on a promise.
  4. Be true to yourself, i.e. have some integrity. Recently I’d paid the bill at a restaurant, only to discover later that they had left the entire alcohol tab off the final tally. I could have let it go. After all, it was saving me a pretty packet. But after a sleepless night worrying that I could cost someone their job, I returned to the restaurant to settle the remainder of the bill. Yes, in the short term it hurt my wallet. But in the long term, my conscience and I could live together happily ever after.
  5. Enjoy every day. This is so oft-repeated it’s almost a cliché. It is so important, though, to really stop and smell the roses, to slow life’s treadmill enough to enjoy the view. Who knows which day may be your last?
  6. Have an attitude of gratitude. Really! Try it. Just say thanks to whoever/whatever you believe in. If you have no religious beliefs and think that the world is just chaos, then thank that chaos for everything it’s given you. Life, love, a home, a family, food to eat, clothes to wear, holidays to go on – everything is a gift that we must never take for granted. Just a simple ‘thank you’ will bring many more blessings into your life.
  7. Patience. This from one of the most impatient people you may ever have met. That’s moi! If I could have something day before yesterday, I would. However, life has taught me that all things come to those who wait. Waiting doesn’t mean sitting on your hands and hoping for a million pounds to fall into your lap. It means working quietly and diligently towards your goals without expecting to be rewarded immediately. There is an Indian proverb that goes – सब्र का फल मीठा होता है – which literally means that the fruit of patience is sweet. That it most definitely is.
  8. Confidence. I have two young girls, and I watch them as they navigate the world, unsure of themselves and their place in it. I always pretended I was more confident than I was when I was younger. “Fake it till you make it” was my internal instruction to myself. I don’t need to fake it anymore. Knowing who I am, what I’m not, and that I add value to the world allows me the luxury of being confident, not arrogant. I hope it doesn’t take my girls thirty years to discover their own unshakeable core of assurance.
  9. Growing old is a privilege. Yes, it is, and it’s one denied to many. In the last eighteen months when we’ve lost so many loved ones to Covid, it is even more important to acknowledge that living to a ripe old age is yet another blessing, a prerogative that only the lucky have.
  10. A legacy of kindness. What do we leave behind that is truly important? Wealth, name, fame? Or, the fact that we may have touched someone’s life with a little bit of kindness? To me, that is the only legacy that matters.

50 not out! It’s been a fantastic game so far, and I’ve hit a few sixers along the way. The day I’m bowled out, I hope everyone says, “She had a good innings.”

Because, you see, I really did.

Thine own boat

by

According to Maslow’s Hierarchy of Needs, a person’s physiological needs (food, clothing, shelter) need to be fulfilled before they can move up the pyramid towards self-actualisation. On this pyramid there are five levels, the aforementioned being the lowest before it moves up to the next level of safety and security, the one up from that being love and belonging, the one above it being everything connected to a person’s self-esteem, and the apex of the pyramid being self-actualisation or the achievement of one’s full potential.

In the West, most of us are lucky enough to have the bottom three levels covered. Think about it. If you’re here, and you’re reading this, in all likelihood, your tummies are full, you have enough clothes to wear, and a roof over your head. You are also probably in a safe environment, and have at least one person who loves you (I hope). The top two levels are also within your reach. You might have job satisfaction, and if not that, you may well have hobbies you love and that fulfil you in some manner. If not, you have the option of changing jobs and developing new connections and interests. As for achieving your full potential, highlighted at the top level of the pyramid, that may or may not be something you aspire to. But, it is certainly within your reach should you choose to go there.

Now, let’s think of the other half of the world. Think of the people who are scrambling to get a foothold on that bottom level. The ones who don’t know where their next meal will come from, how long the clothes on their backs will last, where they will sleep the night, and whether they will be safe where they are. Think of the people fleeing Afghanistan, think of the refugees anywhere in the world willing to walk thousands of miles, hang off the undercarriages of planes or swim in shark-infested waters. Think of how far they are from that top level on the pyramid.

As someone who grew up in the East, and had a privileged upbringing, then moved to the West and have a very comfortable life, I never forget how fortunate I am, and what a small percentage of the world’s population I really belong to. “There, but for the grace of God, go I” was something I often heard my mother say when I was growing up. It is a remark that resonates strongly, and even more so, at a time like this.

Immigrants are often looked down upon because they aren’t fluent in the nation’s language, often live in squalid conditions, and do not have the funds to live aspirational lifestyles, at least not when they first arrive. How few of us think of just how much they’ve gone through to get here. How, for them, self-actualisation is an alien concept, survival being the primal need. Yet, ironically, within a generation or two, the descendants of these immigrants are often the first to point fingers at those who ask for their basic needs to be fulfilled.

There is more than enough in this world for us all to have the first three levels of human needs, as outlined in the pyramid, to be realised. Yet, greed and power create chasms of inequities, reducing humans to little more than animals, fighting for survival while the rest of us turn a blind eye, or worse, judge them as our inferiors purely because of the accident of birth or circumstance.

There is an old Hindu proverb that goes:

“Help thy brother’s boat across and lo! Thine own has reached the shore.”

Let us, within whatever our capacity may be, help and not judge; be compassionate and not indifferent. Then, perhaps, our fellow man may reach the pinnacle of that pyramid, raising all of humanity alongside.

 

 

What’s that all about?

by

Blame it on my age, but I’m truly at a loss here. What on earth gives anyone the right to ‘cancel’ anyone else? Yes, I’m talking about the phenomenon of ‘cancel culture’. For those who don’t know what this means, here’s the definition according to Mirriam-Webster: the practice or tendency of engaging in mass canceling as a way of expressing disapproval and exerting social pressure.

The long list of people cancelled in recent years include the likes of Liam Neeson, Ellen DeGeneres, Jimmy Fallon and J. K. Rowling. What have they done, you might ask, that merits this kind of social (media) ostracism? Well, some have said some inappropriate things, while others have maybe consorted with the enemy, and others still have held an opinion that is contrary to the public tide of the moment. I won’t spell it out, because Google will do that bit for you, if you’re interested. My point is, while none of them are squeaky clean, what gives anyone the moral authority to pass judgement on these people?

The reason this trend bothers me so much, and why I’ve felt the need to express it on my blog, is twofold. One, there is something sinister in how free speech and opinions that differ from the mainstream, are suddenly being held up to social scrutiny that is at best, infantile and one-dimensional, and at worst, policing that harks back to the censorship wielded by totalitarian regimes. Two, where is the scope, in all this moral grandstanding, for people to make mistakes, to learn, to grow and repent? None of us are born perfect, but if you’re a celebrity, you’d better never have put a foot wrong, because that will come back to haunt you at some later stage in your career. At that point, not even a grovelling apology and a promise to do better could redeem you.

In all fairness, some people need calling out on their obnoxious behaviour, their toxic beliefs and their gruesome opinions. But let’s do it in a fair manner, a manner that befits a society that believes in debate, in conversation, and not in clamping down and deleting a person just because they did not adhere to the popular motif of the moment.

There is a cruelty to ‘cancelling’ someone that is tantamount to a public stoning. A cruelty that doesn’t consider the mental anguish, the financial fallout or failure to allow the person a chance at redemption. Even the law states that a person is innocent until proven guilty, so a cancel culture that rubs out a person swiftly without due process, is no less toxic than whatever abhorrent deed the person in question may have been accused of.

Chimamanda Ngozi Adichie, who penned a blistering article on how social media denizens act as moral guardians of the rapidly changing landscapes of what is right and what is not, said it best:

“We have a generation of young people on social media so terrified of having the wrong opinions that they have robbed themselves of the opportunity to think and to learn and to grow,” Adichie writes. “I have spoken to young people who tell me they are terrified to tweet anything, that they read and reread their tweets because they fear they will be attacked by their own. The assumption of good faith is dead. What matters is not goodness but the appearance of goodness. We are no longer human beings. We are now angels jostling to out-angel one another. God help us. It is obscene.”

It is obscene, and it is ridiculous. Go ahead, cancel me now. See if I care.

 

Hurt

by

 

There is a world of hurt

behind those eyes,

unshed words

that threaten to spill over

 

When did we lose each other

to misunderstandings

misapprehensions

mistakes?

 

How has what should be love

transformed

into anger, recrimination,

and regret?

 

Is there no way back?

Is there no way to bridge

this chasm between

what used to be ‘us’

and what is

‘you’ and ‘me’ now?

 

Perhaps a word,

an acknowledgment,

an understanding

could mend

that which seems irreparable right now

 

Perhaps that word is ‘sorry’

perhaps it is

love.