I know, I know, I am writing after a very long time. Have been working on myself a LOT. Self-help books, self-pondering, self-awareness, so much to learn and understand about yourself first before we can even start thinking about others and judging others. Something I have been working very hard on the last few days. Workbooks, tests, I am definitely taking myself seriously. :-)
Who has time for others, when you yourself are going through myriad of emotions, when you yourself are a spectrum of characters, good, bad and ugly.
Just today, I went through a mixture of emotions, got up feeling ok, went to "bad" due to some melt-downs at home. I had a meltdown myself at Target today and went for a 0.75 mile run with Sam and his friends that cleared my mind a little. Those little boys and their giggles and smiles can melt anyone's heart. Came home to chores, sucky weather, no milk and a very unhappy dog when the phone rang. The Foster family agency of WA state. I do remember applying for this months ago when I was looking for something more and better to do with my free time and life in general. Yeah, I know, my hands are already full, but my heart somehow is not.
Years ago, when I was in 12th grade, my dad and I were driving in one of the posh localities of Delhi to my Chemistry practical finals. I can never forget this morning. We were on our old beaten up Maruti 800, it was a cold foggy March morning. I was all nervous about my final practical exams and all. He was zooming at 30 m/hr to get me to school early when we both noticed something in the middle of the road. A mauve puppy with a faint howl. He was run over by a car in front of us. Not the driver's fault, it was just a foggy morning. I knew that if we left him there, he would definitely be run over by other cars. What a lousy way to die, I thought. I asked my dad to stop, removed my "Surf white" lab coat that my mother carefully washed for my finals, carried the dog to the edge of the road and put him there gently hoping the animal rescue team that my dad promised to call arrived and saved him. Hey, there is always hope, right? My dad said he was really proud of me and I went to my school, borrowed a lab coat from a friend and finished my exams on time. I told my story to a few girlfriends and they thought it was gross and asked if I washed my hands. Not the point I was trying to drive. I left it at that. That is the day I knew my priorities were different and that I just did not think like most other people.
Memories of my childhood flashed in front of me today. The autistic girl I sat next to and helped in grade 6, the kindness I showed to a mentally challenged kid at age 5 when others made fun of him (like in the movies), the dogs I fed, a squirrel I saved. Another very deep seated memory came alive today. At age 20, my mom gave me some extra money on my birthday to spend on friends and my roomie and I decided to go to the nearest blind school and provide food and have lunch with a bunch of blind kids. How can anyone forget such profound moments of happiness, gratefulness that we were indeed the privileged ones? I am sure if my roomie is reading this, she will remember that day with those kids. Unforgettable.
When I fostered my current dog, Butch, at age 6, he had severe arthritis. He couldn't do lot of things other dogs did, he had some problems with one of his eyes, he couldn't run well and he had some behavior issues and no one knew his history very well. There were times when we were almost giving up on him. Some of you may know the story. We knew we were not ready to adopt, but Butch wouldn't eat or drink when he went back to the Humane Society. We had to adopt him, we couldn't give up on him. Today, at age 10, he is healthy, happy and a great companion for me and my family. So glad we stuck by him during those difficult times. I will always feel good about giving him few more years of life and companionship.
My mom, my ex-husband, my father, everyone encouraged me to give. I remember donating my first ever motorcycle bought with my own money to a milk-delivery boy in Hyderabad who was shocked beyond belief when I told him it was free and left him with the keys. It all makes sense to me now. My mother thinks God watched me from above and thought Sam was bound to come to me. I consider it wishful thinking. In that moment of my meltdown today, I forgot all the good things I am. Sam is. We are, as a family. The way we give, the way we care, the way we live. Recently, there was a discussion with few family folks about how giving only comes to our mind when we are "ready" to give. Meaning, we are well off to spare extra money for the society. I disagree. Giving need not be cash, giving could be just helping someone cross the road. Giving is more time than $$. Who cannot write a check for $100 today and feel that they gave. Anyone!! Giving is an adrenalin rush. Giving is making memories. Giving is character. Giving is Time and Time my friends, is money.
Don't let the reason for not having enough money stop you from giving what you have. Recently one of our family members died and I come from a not so well off family. Some of my extended family is still struggling to make ends meet. When the person on the other line told my mother how critically short they are for the funeral of this person in the family, my mom said, "Ofcourse, I am sending you money right away. Please make sure the funeral is done well." That moment I knew where my character building started. It started in the womb.
Years ago when my parents' requested us having a "grand" reception for my first wedding (only daughter and all), my ex-husband and I politely rejected. We asked them to give the money to an orphanage. I am glad my husband, Sagar, also felt that way when we married. He was against even the very simple party I had arranged for his friends. He actually keeps me in check when I give too much, which is always a good thing. I need someone to check on me from time to time. People don't get us, which is fine. I am glad we get each other and our priorities are respected by each other.
The point of this blog is not to ask you to give, not to show how great I am and how I am a better human being than you. Nope. The point to drive is, if everyone of us gives a little, an hour a week, a few dollars a year, maybe become a big brother to someone, shape someone's life or make a little difference to someone in some little way, our job on earth is done well.
Trust me, I have closed some multi-million dollar deals, but the rush that comes from giving an Xbox to a random family for Christmas and them sending a video to show you how much their kids appreciated it is better than any incentives, sales deals, any $100,000 wedding parties, any flashy cars that we can experience. One other reason why I LOVE my employer. Microsoft gives and encourages us to give. For every hour I spend volunteering, my employer gives $17 to the organization. For every $ I give, they match. For every Microsoft product I give, they match. And someone very truly told us, if you appreciate what you have by sharing it with others, your wealth will appreciate by itself.
To give is only human.
Who has time for others, when you yourself are going through myriad of emotions, when you yourself are a spectrum of characters, good, bad and ugly.
Just today, I went through a mixture of emotions, got up feeling ok, went to "bad" due to some melt-downs at home. I had a meltdown myself at Target today and went for a 0.75 mile run with Sam and his friends that cleared my mind a little. Those little boys and their giggles and smiles can melt anyone's heart. Came home to chores, sucky weather, no milk and a very unhappy dog when the phone rang. The Foster family agency of WA state. I do remember applying for this months ago when I was looking for something more and better to do with my free time and life in general. Yeah, I know, my hands are already full, but my heart somehow is not.
Years ago, when I was in 12th grade, my dad and I were driving in one of the posh localities of Delhi to my Chemistry practical finals. I can never forget this morning. We were on our old beaten up Maruti 800, it was a cold foggy March morning. I was all nervous about my final practical exams and all. He was zooming at 30 m/hr to get me to school early when we both noticed something in the middle of the road. A mauve puppy with a faint howl. He was run over by a car in front of us. Not the driver's fault, it was just a foggy morning. I knew that if we left him there, he would definitely be run over by other cars. What a lousy way to die, I thought. I asked my dad to stop, removed my "Surf white" lab coat that my mother carefully washed for my finals, carried the dog to the edge of the road and put him there gently hoping the animal rescue team that my dad promised to call arrived and saved him. Hey, there is always hope, right? My dad said he was really proud of me and I went to my school, borrowed a lab coat from a friend and finished my exams on time. I told my story to a few girlfriends and they thought it was gross and asked if I washed my hands. Not the point I was trying to drive. I left it at that. That is the day I knew my priorities were different and that I just did not think like most other people.
Memories of my childhood flashed in front of me today. The autistic girl I sat next to and helped in grade 6, the kindness I showed to a mentally challenged kid at age 5 when others made fun of him (like in the movies), the dogs I fed, a squirrel I saved. Another very deep seated memory came alive today. At age 20, my mom gave me some extra money on my birthday to spend on friends and my roomie and I decided to go to the nearest blind school and provide food and have lunch with a bunch of blind kids. How can anyone forget such profound moments of happiness, gratefulness that we were indeed the privileged ones? I am sure if my roomie is reading this, she will remember that day with those kids. Unforgettable.
When I fostered my current dog, Butch, at age 6, he had severe arthritis. He couldn't do lot of things other dogs did, he had some problems with one of his eyes, he couldn't run well and he had some behavior issues and no one knew his history very well. There were times when we were almost giving up on him. Some of you may know the story. We knew we were not ready to adopt, but Butch wouldn't eat or drink when he went back to the Humane Society. We had to adopt him, we couldn't give up on him. Today, at age 10, he is healthy, happy and a great companion for me and my family. So glad we stuck by him during those difficult times. I will always feel good about giving him few more years of life and companionship.
My mom, my ex-husband, my father, everyone encouraged me to give. I remember donating my first ever motorcycle bought with my own money to a milk-delivery boy in Hyderabad who was shocked beyond belief when I told him it was free and left him with the keys. It all makes sense to me now. My mother thinks God watched me from above and thought Sam was bound to come to me. I consider it wishful thinking. In that moment of my meltdown today, I forgot all the good things I am. Sam is. We are, as a family. The way we give, the way we care, the way we live. Recently, there was a discussion with few family folks about how giving only comes to our mind when we are "ready" to give. Meaning, we are well off to spare extra money for the society. I disagree. Giving need not be cash, giving could be just helping someone cross the road. Giving is more time than $$. Who cannot write a check for $100 today and feel that they gave. Anyone!! Giving is an adrenalin rush. Giving is making memories. Giving is character. Giving is Time and Time my friends, is money.
Don't let the reason for not having enough money stop you from giving what you have. Recently one of our family members died and I come from a not so well off family. Some of my extended family is still struggling to make ends meet. When the person on the other line told my mother how critically short they are for the funeral of this person in the family, my mom said, "Ofcourse, I am sending you money right away. Please make sure the funeral is done well." That moment I knew where my character building started. It started in the womb.
Years ago when my parents' requested us having a "grand" reception for my first wedding (only daughter and all), my ex-husband and I politely rejected. We asked them to give the money to an orphanage. I am glad my husband, Sagar, also felt that way when we married. He was against even the very simple party I had arranged for his friends. He actually keeps me in check when I give too much, which is always a good thing. I need someone to check on me from time to time. People don't get us, which is fine. I am glad we get each other and our priorities are respected by each other.
The point of this blog is not to ask you to give, not to show how great I am and how I am a better human being than you. Nope. The point to drive is, if everyone of us gives a little, an hour a week, a few dollars a year, maybe become a big brother to someone, shape someone's life or make a little difference to someone in some little way, our job on earth is done well.
Trust me, I have closed some multi-million dollar deals, but the rush that comes from giving an Xbox to a random family for Christmas and them sending a video to show you how much their kids appreciated it is better than any incentives, sales deals, any $100,000 wedding parties, any flashy cars that we can experience. One other reason why I LOVE my employer. Microsoft gives and encourages us to give. For every hour I spend volunteering, my employer gives $17 to the organization. For every $ I give, they match. For every Microsoft product I give, they match. And someone very truly told us, if you appreciate what you have by sharing it with others, your wealth will appreciate by itself.
To give is only human.
