Glad to be here

Today is May 25, 2020. It is a holiday here in America because of Memorial Day. Today I want to talk about a few things I am grateful for.

I am grateful to be in the company of books, which transport me to lands and times I didn’t know existed. More than that, they are and will always be forever a constant in life — providing me a refuge to get lost in, to be inspired by, and to propel me toward becoming a better version of myself. I have distinct memories of events in my life, and for each of those events, I could associate a book I was reading at the time. If you think about it, words are just that: words. But storytelling if done right, can move mountains. In our daily lives, we gravitate toward storytelling without even knowing about it, whether we are talking about an incident that happened in our life with other people, or whether we are delivering a presentation to an audience or for that matter, communicating in some other form. Books are a great resource for storytelling — I continue to marvel how groups of words carefully stringed together can move us to tears, make us laugh, and make us feel a variety of other emotions. The fact that hearing about books excites me like nothing else pretty much sums it up.

I am grateful for the adult literacy initiative at the local library that I am involved in. For most of my life, I have lived for myself, flitting between jobs, trying to survive, enjoying in whatever way I can by going to concerts, book readings and going out in nature. It is only when I decide to help people out in whatever little I can that I found I felt contented, or came the closest to feeling contentment. Once every week, I go to the library to tutor adults who need some help with basic literacy skills, be it reading, writing, filling out a form online or something else. Last year, I helped out a Mexican woman with her writing. She was facing problems in trying to receive the adequate help with her writing at the college she was going to, at the time. Hence she scouted for avenues where she could get help with her writing, and thus was able to zero in on the library. The coordinator for the literacy program matched us and after a short introductory meeting, she and I got to work. In a few months, she felt considerable improvement in her writing and our sessions culminated in her getting an A- in her writing course at college. She offered me to help out in buying a car, which I was thinking of doing at the time. Even though I didn’t end up buying a car, she and I kept in touch. What I find striking about adult literacy: While many of these adults missed out on basic skills like reading and writing, they are resilient in so many other ways, like having the will to learn despite being of an age where the learning curve is steep, and always showing up and being ready to put in the work. Most of us take that for granted, but seeing all of it happen in front of you in its rawest form is something else, something that pushes me to continue to become a better version of myself when it comes to helping other people out.

I am grateful for music. Music deserves a special mention because at a time when I was going through a tough phase, it was the only thing that saved me. There’s something to be said about something that allows you to stop the incessant flow of thoughts inside your head, stops you from continuing to spiral down. Music did this for me. My last job sucked the soul out of me. I used to return home after midnight from work, feeling depressed and miserable. I remember lying on the bed, thinking about the future and how the prospects seemed bleak. The thing about thinking, when you are staying alone, is that one thought leads to another, and it can get real bad, real fast. This job sucks, so I should try looking for another job. But even if the new job is a little better, there would still be a manager, and in some ways the new job would still suck your soul. What is the point in even trying? It’s better that I switch to academia, but wait. I never excelled at college. All my college life, I wanted it to end soon so I could move on. OK, NO ACADEMIA. Research has never been my forte anyway. Every one is doing stand-up comedy these days, I should try my hand at that. People say my sense of humor is like no one else’s. But the audience isn’t evolved enough to get my sense of humor. So that is out of the picture as well. I should try writing, but what should I write about? I have been published once, but that was years ago. I don’t even if I have it in me to write. And so it goes on and on and on, until you either fall asleep or you put on a Joni Mitchell at low volume on your speakers and are transported into a different world — a world where there are no thoughts, only music. You then begin to cling to music, like it’s the only thing in the world. Not only does it put an end to the train of thoughts running inside your head, but also it makes you feel like you belong somewhere in the world. You then hold on to music for dear life. It becomes sacred for you, like it did for me.

I am grateful for a few close friends that I have. I am an introvert, so making new friends takes its own sweet time for me. The few friendships that I am involved in — I think they are for lifetime. I look out for them, they look out for me. We catch up whenever we can. We keep ourselves abreast of the happenings in each other’s life. We disagree, but are never rude to one another. It’s what some people might call being on the same wavelength. Whenever we meet after a while, it seems like we were never apart.

In a world that thrives on posing contradictions to you at every step, one of them being to be contented with what one has and at the same time telling you that one should always keep striving for more, and better, one needs to pause, think and take stock of one’s life. If something makes us feel like we are actually making a difference, we should be cognizant of it and hold it close to our dear heart. The noise then eventually subsides, and we are able to see things in a clearer light, as never before. However fleeting those moments might be, they come as close to providing meaning to our lives as nothing else ever will.