Ways to contentment

‘It’s not that you stop smiling as you grow old. The real thing is you grow old because you stop smiling.’

When I received the above mentioned statement as a text message from one of my very close friends I could immediately sense my heart pumping blood to my wisdom tooth with additional intensity thus setting my brain machinery whirring into action. I could already foresee that friend of mine marching ahead into a lawsuit slammed onto his face by the manufacturers of various antidotes for aging (read anti-aging creams). How could he even think of offering such simple a solution as a ‘smile’ for a malady they had been blowing their bugle against????

However, I soon realised my mistake. (Come on, I have reason for that…..got my wisdom tooth extracted years ago. That accounts for all the eccentricity in my …umm…behaviour). Well, it so turned out that I became aware of the supreme intelligence applied in by the manufacturers of these antidotes. They were well aware of the fact that in today’s world the thing called ‘smile’ though the cheapest but is still the most rarely available commodity. Blame it on the ‘rat – race’ which we in more sophisticated terms call ‘competition’ or the present agony of the ‘global recession’- life and people somehow seem to have lost the zing thing.

Trust me, I am not a philanthropist preaching you the essentials of flashing a smile onto every passer – by, nor have I been bribed by any of those laughter clubs for canvassing their services. I’m simply trying to put forth my observations…….a general opinion about the present scenario. As a counsellor, I often come across cases where I find people suffering from gross insecurities which owe their roots to the fact that people are unable to digest the idea of somebody else around them being happy! They are not worried about the plenitude in which they are thriving but the hand to mouth existence of their neighbour does spark off their interest.

Another thing which I have noticed is that somehow we seem to have lost the capacity to laugh at our own self. May be our egos seem to possess the better of us here. We may laugh at the antics of a comedian in a movie or at a stupid prank played on somebody around, but when it comes to our own self, our serpentile ego at once raises its hood ready to take a strike. We may call it work pressure or anything else, but the truth remains as what I say. I do not advocate the idea of behaving like a buffoon in this case making a complete fool of ourselves in the process, but may be to a certain extent we can tolerate some amount of fun made at our expense.

Smile, I do understand in today’s world is difficult to attain but may be we don’t realise the innumerable horsepower our smile rises up to. That single smile of ours is capable of lighting up the lives of those hundreds around us who survive on nothing but our smiles. Those hundred include your parents, your near and dear ones who eagerly wait for you the whole day long just to see you entering the house with a smile. Your long drawn visage actually puts down their spirits too. And surely, for them this much we can certainly do. As J.K. Rowling puts it, “we must do something for the greater good ”, so for the greater good learn the art of smiling…….enjoy the miniscule pleasures offered by life……for after years when you will look back, you would actually laud yourself for having led a life with contentment.

As far as the adage ‘physician heal thyself’ goes I would just like to put in that in my case I’m trying to master the technique myself, but then my profession of being a ‘preacher’ does get onto my nerves quite often and the result is this write up. But then there is no harm practising what I say. Isn’t it?

P.S. Well, the very same person who sent me the initial text message sent me the following too:


'I hated people pulling my cheeks at every wedding I attended saying “you are going to be the next one”. They stopped doing it when I started doing the same with them at the funerals I attended'. LOL!!!!!!
So, donate a smile……….live longer.

What is in a name?

‘She knew the look on the faces of the people waiting outside. She could relate and identify each expression to what she had been seeing and experiencing for the last 20 years of her life. Aware that the excitement had been as much at a fever pitch as now, her entry had however dampened the spirits of all. The parents bore a look that would have put a pauper to shame, the servants too turned a cold shoulder towards….as if it was she who had deprived them of a handsome reward. She grew up in this atmosphere spending her childhood days trying to fathom out her role in the entire mishap. She saw the kids around her, enjoying their life to the hilt, celebrating a thing which they called ‘a birthday party’ and wondered why hers was not even remembered by her folks. When it came to admitting her in a school, the best and the most expensive one in town was opted for………it was a question of family’s reputation and status after all. Her drawings, her childhood pranks never drew the attention of her parents and she was sure that had she even been a mediocre student, her parents would have been hardly perturbed. Then one fine day she was informed of her marriage which was to take place on a date suiting all their conveniences and she was expected to be there. Then came the D-Day. She was there in the hospital, expecting her baby. She knew their expectations, their hopes and the aftermath of the shattering of all. She gave a look at the crib next to her, picked up the child and pressing her against herself she promised” I won’t let you lose your smile, my child”.

Reading this story in the children’s segment in one of the country’s leading newspapers I as a child of 7 was thoroughly convinced that the author had a deep insight into a child’s mind. This story was nobody else’s but my own; I could see myself in the girl’s character essaying the role of a tragic Meena Kumari off screen. (Believe me it took me another 10 years of my life to overcome such an absurd proposition!). Having thoroughly annealed this theory, I spent the Sunday next pondering over it. All the scolding, reprimands that I had from my parents now seemed to be falling into place. My ‘so well formulated’ convictions were further cemented by the fact that mine is a family where the male offspring seem to dominate………and mind it, I might not have heard half the things that my mom said but I did happen to hear that she had made a face when she heard that she had been blessed with a daughter. (Now that’s a different story that my ‘cherubic’ appearances immediately melted her grudge against me!) The most interesting bolster to this superb notion that I had been harbouring came to me in the form of my name. I was stunned to learn that my parents were so confident of having a male child that they hadn’t thought of any names for girls!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! Now wasn’t that brilliant? Here we come across the question that how did I happen to have the name I now am known as. Well, my grandmother it seems had been reading some book at that point of time (I am still trying to figure out which book it was!!) where she had come across this ‘interesting’ character whose name she took a fancy for and suggested it to my dad. Influenced by all lessons of ‘matribhakti’ that he had had, it was an immediate decision on his part to name me what I am.

A lot many years have passed so far, my name has come a long way and so have I. As a child my name had been the biggest cause of embarrassment (read harassment) in my friend circle. Had a tough time explaining to them the meaning and the situations influencing the name I have, but no regrets now. At least now I know that my name has given me what a lot many names couldn’t have given me………..it has given me instant recognition. People do take a note of me (or should I read it as ‘ they stop short’) the moment they hear my name. And all Thanks go to none other than our very own Mr.Shakespeare who actually taught me to believe in ‘what’s in a name ’. (Well, he had to….for his own sake ……for had he not proved the veracity of his own statement the poor soul of his would have had to take serious turns around in his grave …..for I then wouldn’t have forgiven him for preaching wrong ideas, mind it)