An elderly who wants to work on holidays too

When you love what you do, then it's no more a job; you are on perpetual vacation. If this uplifting statement is true then I haven't seen - in the real or virtual world - anyone in the recent past who loves his/her job.

People were eagerly waiting for a couple of public holidays for Eid Al Fitr and lo! it fell on July 17 - a Friday, that's the default weekly day off in the Middle East.

On July 16, we had guests over for dinner. The young professionals in their denims and shorts was restless as the sun set. They sat iPhones in hand, nursing nervous energy. Hoping. Not wanting to see the breaking news of the Crescent spotted. "I wanted to catch up on my sleep…," said the girl gulping down her drink. "This is so unfair," echoed another lighting his stick.

I wished at least five friends 'Eid Mubarak!' and this is how most conversation began..."Ah. Same to you. So one holiday gone...; It just doesn't feel like a holiday..." Sigh!

Invariably all of them also cribbed about returning to the normal 8-hour work days. But for an acquaintance, who woke us up on Eid morning, to check if we are available.

The short-built man walked-in, shirt clinging to his perspiring chest as did the baggy trousers to his wiry legs. The 55-year-old plonked on the sofa, straightened his back and pulled a handkerchief from his trouser pocket and wiped his face, neck, patted his bald head. He drank a glass of warm water ["I have throat irritation..."] and began. Whining. "How unfortunate...this is such a loss… I get double-over-time on Fridays… the calculation will go wrong...supervisor had told that he'll mark me for duty today...but the entire company is closed...tomorrow only one shift...work is plenty, why can't they let us work?!"

Does he love his job so much or are adages not applicable for the semi-skilled and unskilled class?

"When you go home, can you fetch my medicine…It's paining a lot now...I can't stand for more than an hour... because supervisor is my roommate...I sit down every two hours... it's difficult.. my specs power is changing... can't do now...September only..." thus he continued his monologue.

He's a fabricator. Was a fabricator. Has always been one for the last 30+years. And will continue being one until the company decides otherwise for him.

In the name of earning a living, providing for the family, meeting liabilities one ages and falls ill and not learn anything new or sharpen their acquired skill or take risks to see new lawns.

"At this age..." another acquaintance trailed off, when I asked as to why he hadn’t thought of looking for a better job earlier. A shop-assistant for the last 25 years, he's now under tremendous pressure as the shop's closing and in his words "I've got a family to feed".

Is it only food that children need? I held myself from asking. 

Adages for the un/semi-skilled are, indeed, different 

Who's to blame? Situations, family, time, fate, destiny. Why are some people so complacent in their prime and crib into their old age?

Change, for your own sake. Make an attempt to do something that'll make your life a little better. If you fail, at least you've put your best efforts. The best you would accomplish is some respect for yourself. Until you respect yourself how on earth can you expect any one else to respect you! And if you fail in your trials, there are only two possibilities: Either you start valuing your current position and give it all your best and thus invariably progress. Or you'll never stop trying for newer pastures until you find your feet on newer lawns.

But NO! Trying something fresh, learning something new is wasting money. Wasting time. "At least now, I'm sure I'm getting this much, What if...?" It's only when the water drowns their nose that they act. And act they will. Burrow deep into their own shit and blame long-dead parents, family, situations, even economy and government - but not themselves.

Have you noticed these are the types that give sermons on social correctness? In reality they are wriggling to hide their lack - their lack of faith in themselves, their lack of courage to dream of a better life. They work clock-like...at a certain age no matter how dependent or independent they are, they will seek a partner. And bring forth more life on earth.

Those who cannot live a 'decent' life - as in live a life without complaining - have no moral right to produce kids. If you do not have the nerve and spine to provide for your family, please for Pete's sake do not commit. And if you do, you bloody well provide for your kids and not just "feed them" and turn them into your prototype. Amoebas do that.

This goes for women, too. If you do not have the nerve and spine to stand on your own two feet do not pile yourself on a man and expect him to take care of you.

I hate people, especially those with grown-up kids, who complain about their long-serving jobs. The height and weight your kids have put on are the number of years you've wasted heating your asses. 

Don't pity those who complain about long-serving jobs

Yes, there are exceptions and situations beyond one's control. But those who choose to be stuck in a job for decades without progress and continue complaining without ever once making an effort to change their condition, deserve no pity or sympathy.

As for loving one's job... I believe everyone needs a break. No matter how much they love their job.

I do not subscribe to life coaches who say breathe in and breathe out your passion; eat, drink and snore your dream. If you are a family person - if you have a spouse and kids - then you ought to take breaks. Breaks from your passion, too. Else, you should have chosen to be married to your passion. If you skipped making that choice earlier in life, then you are being irresponsible to the souls you brought forth to this earth.

Well, I'm looking forward to the next holiday. But definitely not living for it.

To all frustrated dream chasers... here's my experience!

To all frustrated dream chasers

The other day I was speaking to one of my mentors. As we sat talking about success, dreams and ambitions, and why mine has not materialised yet, she said, "It's because I'm not passionate about it." I looked at her with the stillness of a boiling kettle as she gave time for the words to sink inside me. While it had the required effect, the fumes from within me did condense over her. She stuttered before settling into a confident clarification, " I mean, not passionate ENOUGH. As in your desire is not STRONG enough, for the universe to conspire..."

I know some people who are 'passionate enough' with 'strong desire' focussing on their dream, challenging the universe to conspire in their favour. A few of them have managed to get the undivided attention of the universe, as well.

I envied them. Felt jealous of them. I wasted days and nights thinking how they managed to achieve that. Then a period of frustration, bitterness, anger and disorientation followed. I felt miserable, unworthy and useless. My emotions even spilled over into the kitchen, living room and even the bedroom before I collected all self-help books from the shelf and devoured every word and set about cleansing myself - a cold turkey process, pleading with the endorphins that punished me for abusing it. Ultimately, when it replenished me, I would see reason,  feel better and be happy. But the sunshine lasted only until I saw or heard another success story.

I was tired of myself. I hated myself. And, yes, I began doubting my beliefs, too.

That pattern has stopped. It wasn't a step-on-the-break-and-halt action, because the pattern was the sediment accumulated over the years within me. Like the rocks on the shore that watch in awe the play of majestic waves and helplessly receive the thrashings at their whim, only to continue their silent life, so did I live my life for many long years.

As a 12-year-old when my first cousin caught me by the arm and showed the piled up gifts on the table in her bedroom, the night before her wedding, I was thrilled. I thought I was taken to help her unwrap them. I jumped up the bed, when I heard, “What did you get for me? Look, this is how you come for weddings. Go, tell your parents.”

That's me and my kiddie brother [left] with a cousin at the wedding

That was the first blow of life’s reality I had! I did not reply. I remember smiling, before running out to play. I never asked my parents why they didn’t give her a gift. I found the answer myself.

Numerous occasions in childhood years that followed, I remember just smiling at veiled comments made by my affluent cousins which made me feel like an appendage. Like the time I was reprimanded for shutting the door of my cousin’s new Maruthi. “This is not Ambassador, Nisha. Don’t you know how to close the door to a car?” I remember smiling, before talking to my teen mind...'had my parents owned a car, would they have dared that tone!’

Annual visits to my hometown served as a crash course on life’s inequalities. Those were the months I matured into an adult even before I could step into adolescence.

A couple of years later, when my kiddie brother’s shoe had come apart at a family function, my uncle [older to my dad by at least 15 years] said in front of the gathered guests, “Ask you father to spend some money, boy. And then he turned to me and continued with a shameful scorn, “Go get him a pair of slippers, at least.” I remember smiling before quickly glancing over my shoulders to check if my parents were within hearing distance. By then, I was obsessed about protecting my mom and dad from the shame other's inflicted on me.

However, it was only to get worse. When my brother and I finished school and opted for BCom and BSc respectively, even our friends whom we thought were our best buddies ridiculed my parents. What will a boy do studying BCom! At get-togethers my parents were pariahs attempting to hold their own amid exaggerated professional talk.

This is a kiddie me with my macho bro... now

My 'desire' to succeed began then. My 'passion' to succeed began then. But so also, did comparison take root then. Impatience spread its tentacles sowing the seeds of hatred all within me...

It took me all these years to understand what 'success' is. The journey was fuelled by real-life experiences I was privy to. Such as, seeing some cousins whom I thought were extremely well-off, not satisfied and yearning to compete with their neighbours. It came after seeing a few relatives who are on the top rung of society and in their upper tier of life span cribbing. It came after seeing one of my aunts who is on the verge of penury who always adorns an infectious smile and never misses to prepare a five-course meal for me. It came after seeing two social butterflies of my family throwing a party for selected relatives. It came after seeing friends visit me only when they needed some help and not attend my calls. It came when my senior called me an intense and private person but a reliable professional - all in one breath. It came when friends went on monologues for hours, advising me on life and purpose judging my silence, I guess, for ignorance. It came when I was spoken to by friends on what is best for my child because I'm not seemingly ambitious a mom. It came when I was hurt by dear ones who kept me waiting when I called on them. It came as I am forced to listen to a friend's breathless talk of her business every time we meet when I have no clue or inclination for anything retail. It came when I saw friends who haven't read my book nor showed any interest in knowing what it is about being curious about how much the project cost…

I don't want to be sitting with my laptop when I have visitors. I don't want to be on the phone and wave goodbye when friends take leave of me. I don't want to ask my child to shut up and leave me alone when she comes to speak to me. I don't want to ask my husband to switch on the TV for company when he returns after a tiring day at work. I don't want to keep my old parents waiting and choose to work on holidays. I don't want to ban my daughter's friends from coming over because it would eat into my private time. I don't want to send hugs on Whatsapp and not visit people in person so as to make up for my lack of time for them...

When my mentor explained, "To be successful, you need to live your passion every waking minute to materialise it. Think about it every fraction of a second to see it come true. Talk about it as often as possible to as many people as possible to attract help. Intent the first thing in the morning and the last thing at night for the universe to look your way...", I walked away with the word 'SELFISHNESS' echoing in my ears.

Dear friends… this post comes out to all you dream chasers out there, who are frustrated at not being ‘successful’. I'm not against life coaches. They are the best people to turn to, to get a pick of wisdom and methods to speed-track towards your achievement without having to spent your years in trials and errors. But one size does not fit all. It's when you try to squeeze into it that you hurt yourself. So customise their tips to meet your needs. Also, ignore the plethora of success stories they dish out of people who live and died their dreams.

My frustrated years have taught me: Your aims and dreams are independent of your success. You are successful when you live a happy life. And the secret to being happy is to RESPECT relationships and ENJOY your DAILY moments.

Also, remember your success cannot be defined and measured by any others' 'success' for the simple reason, what gives them happiness need not satisfy you.

Do strive to achieve your dreams [with ‘enough’ passion and ‘strong’ desire and the universal tools prescribed] but not at the cost of your daily life and your relations, please!