Lessons Learnt the Hard Way

With the cool breeze and not so humid days, also come the sniffles and the quiet. Quiet because the hum of fans no longer provides the din in the backdrop of our daily lives. Everything seems suddenly very loud and the walls seem to have more perkier ears than before.With the November temperature, the linens and wool escape the deep recesses of wardrobes. These are adorned with the most magnificent autumn colours; mature, deep and so present in the moment. But for me, November also marks an anniversary- the anniversary of my own escape from the recesses of doom. A full three years since I escaped the bonds of unholy matrimony. But just like the paradox that life is, my children are still lost in the winter bleakness. With a dash of light, comes a pinch of darkness- always.

What is the healthier option? In the first instance, one is inclined to believe that both are imperative for human survival. But then one is forced to think of all the suffering in the world and realizing that refugees in a war torn area do not have the luxury of thinking along the lines of those of us who live in relatively less taxing circumstances. A friend asked me a few days ago what I thought of when the word 'wall' is mentioned. I was going to answer facetiously, 'Trump' but judging by her very serious demeanour, I thought better of it and decided to go with, 'Personal Boundaries'; absolutely! She gave me a wry smile. She confessed she had to go with what was right and what was wrong. This was strange to me, but turns out, my answer was strange to her. She said that the answer she gave depicted that she had an intense desire to please people even if it meant terrible inconvenience at her expense. I on the other hand, had probably passed that

Recently, I met a relative of my ex-husband's at a wedding. She was very cordial and gave me a big, fat hug, asked how I'd been and all the other pleasantries that go with 'catching up' on an old acquaintance. As luck would have it, a little old lady decided to step in. I had never seen her before. She asked our mutual friend to introduce me. And it is here that this aquaintance had to actually address the elephant in the room, that I was her so and so's ex-wife. To my utter surprise, she introduced me alright, but as the present wife of my very very ex-husband, and I was shocked. I had to stop her and correct her and totally persuade her that everything was definitely full and final to which she seemed surprised. Feeling slightly (or perhaps very) uncomfortable, the sweet little old lady decided to quietly slip away. As I  resolutely confirmed my friend/acquaintance that I was quite single, she still seemed confused saying that she was speaking to my ex's

It's sweltering hot and my stomach is in knots as I eye the invigilator nervously as he approaches with the question papers in his hands. 'Why am I doing this again?' I ask myself vowing never, never to subject myself to this kind of trauma ever again. It did not help that in addition to the knots, I had a real stomach ailment as well. Taking a gulp of water and forcing myself to calm down, I look at the dreaded sheet of paper. 'Okay,' I say to myself, 'I can do this'. Thereby start the three hours that seem to pass too quickly as I fervently fill in sheet after sheet with the assortment of information in my brain that I have to somehow make sense of and display brilliantly with some semblance of order and method. I undergo this rigourous event five times before it all ends and I collapse in bed, hardly to be seen out of it for two days straight. 'Never again,' I had said to myself. 'I needed a post-graduate degree, I am done (or almos

I find myself not being able to sleep. Not from lack of exhaustion...no! The way work has been lately... I'm out like a light at a very modest hour and stay in that position till a decent time in the morning. Then all hell breaks loose again, but I say that with love. No, I find myself awake because a mosquito bit me on my forehead. Well there was no going back to sleep, so I picked up my cell, browsing all the usual channels, Facebook, Instagram... Wait, I did not check up on twitter. Still no semblance of sleep came on. And the runny nose got runnier. It was time to sit up and get something done. Ah there was some outstanding printing to be done, so did that. The allergy attack was still in play, so got a cup of tea. Tragedy- didn't turn out all that nice! But chugged it down regardless- waste not want not, or is it the other way around? Anyhow, with all that out of the way and the nose giving me some respite, and literally nothing to do, my mind wandered w

Someone once said, 'Never waste your feelings on people who don't value them."  The internet has a cult following for uplifting and heart-felt quotes. Hell I have a whole Facebook page dedicated to them HERE . The problem with proverbs like the ones stated above (though they appear to be pithy and so full of brevity) is that they sometimes impact you strongly, and yet, when given a deeper thought, they do not sit right. They just sound right but don't feel 'real'. The truth is, we would all love to stop thinking about people who have been removed from our lives, perhaps through death, perhaps through distance, perhaps something more complex. Perhaps we would like to stop thinking about people who are right there by our side, wishing, hoping they weren't, an abusive spouse, a two-faced friend, a horrible boss. Perhaps we would like to stop feeling a certain feeling because it is just all too painful. Yet, we cannot. We give power to our emo

All my life I've heard people talking about their bosses. Right now,  I can't think of one  person who has ever actually spoken well of them. So when I was promoted, I had mixed feelings. First off, added responsibility is no picnic, secondly, everything I had ever read about leading a team boiled down to being a well of motivation and a magical intuitive source of empathetic delegation- skills that are quite challenging to master.. Besides, I always just saw myself teaching kids, teaching was, is, always will be my passion. I didn't really aspire towards anything higher. It wasn't until my bosses made me see another angle that I started to get excited about the notion of leading the English Department at a school that caters to about 2500 kids.

I was bombarded with the urge to write... a gut wrenching need to let out what was festering inside me, building up to storm, swirling, raging, thundering, bellowing, screaming... I was afraid that it would all simmer down and die out before I could let it out, or that it would detonate and then all that would be left would be rubble and smoke. What happens? Why does this happen? I believe that of the best works of this world, the most creative of master pieces of any art form are born this way. Artists are overcome with the need to let out what threatens to tear them apart if not expelled. What materializes is deep, meaningful, beautiful. But the end result is reaped only after the seed of intense grief or joy (as the case may be) is sowed- usually the former. I believe the inspiration starts to take hold when a person is at his most vulnerable, when his soul has been gouged at, clawed and mauled, when his heart has been ripped to shreds and the wounds run so deep that

It's such a cliche to say that wisdom comes with age, it's probably an accurate one too, but seriously, there are 40 year old douche bags out there who wouldn't know the value of a wise thought even if it materialized in front of their eyes, showed its amazing consequences, and then punched them in the face! But this is not about those losers, it's about me and my thoughts, their evolution over the past four decades and all the experiences, horrendous as well inanely beautiful, that have shaped them. Of these profound realizations, of which there are too many to list down, a few of my favourites are listed below and I'd love to share them with those of you out there who are young but don't have people in your life who truly 'get you', people who wish there was someone to give them some insight on the overwhelming complexities of life, people who have written off existence as nothing but pain and suffering and are looking for some excuse to keep movin