3 Episodes of My Lockdown Days that Shaped My Perspective About People
500+ followers on Instagram means nothing ‘real’.
Neither does staying connected with your best friend living in a different time zone—every waking hour.
You get the point. Do you?
Let me explain with a story—with my story.
October 2017
I had everything a twenty-something could dream of. A new job. Stable health and finances. A small, close-knit friend circle. Weekend parties and getaways. And long motorcycle rides.
In short, a merry-go-round.
Besides these, I still had, fresh on my mind, the soothing memories of my recent trip to the Himalayas. It gave me the impetus and a fresh perspective to move forward.
Fast forward two years.
I repeated the same cycle — a new city, new job, new people, and frequent hangouts with my pals. Only this time, I was anxious and miserable.
When I reflected on this shift deep enough. An underlying pattern, a common theme, and a common enemy emerged.
I noticed my thought patterns, behaviour, and beliefs about people were being manipulated. By a silent entity disguised as man’s second-best friend:
Social Media.
Over the years, social media had strengthened my ego. It rewired my brain and trained me to go buy that next big thing. Plan that next adventure. Stay connected with those few friends living abroad. To get updates on what’s happening in their lives.
In short, I fixated my focus on the future and the people living away from me. Instinctively ignoring everyone and everything around me.
I could never experience and appreciate what I had in the now — everything that unfolded right in front of me. As if social media hijacked my consciousness.
Now comes the good part, unfolded in the worst time ever.
Pandemic
I transitioned into freelance. And then, I found myself graced with idle hours. This was when I furthered my journey into self-exploration. My search for meaning, deep reflections and harsh realizations intensified.
This was when I reconnected with my true self. With the ones who shared my space. And with those few souls who walked and talked around me (my neighbours).
Here are three episodes of my pandemic days that made me a better human.
One Book that “Woke Me Up”
“Stress is caused by being “here” but wanting to be “there,” or being in the present but wanting to be in the future.”
— says Eckhart Tolle, in his book “The Power of Now”.
It took me a week to finish this book. And I must admit—it was a powerful experience. One that blinded my ego’s warped vision and helped me shift my focus to the present moment.
I learnt how to see and respond to situations and people from a calm, deeper space within me.
I learnt how to be fully present for a few moments, at least. (It’s hard. No, really.)
“The moment you realize you are not present, you are present. Whenever you are able to observe your mind, you are no longer trapped in it. Another factor has come in, something that is not of the mind: the witnessing presence.”
With presence, I was able to embrace the art of listening. I was able to immerse myself in constructive, meaningful conversations with the people around me. These conversations were, in essence, fueled by curiosity and a deep desire to understand their perspective, whenever our opinions differed.
I allowed their words to sink in, wanting to connect with them on a soul level. Without simultaneously playing mental movies. Or adding layers of my judgements. Or inflating my sense of self.
In most occasions, I simply observed those micro expressions on their faces. I noticed how they suddenly lit up. I saw the gleam their eyes whenever they talked about something they were passionate about. It’s a skill, or rather, one of those rare gifts we humans are blessed with.
“The Power of Now” is a must-read. But if you are new to Eckhart’s wisdom, watch this interview to get started.
Here’s an advice for my 20-something pals:
There’s no dearth of meaningful books out there. Prioritise reading over binge-watching or endless scrolling.
Tune into slow reading.
And thank me later.
Saving An Old Woman’s Life — On New Year’s Eve
Emergency hospital visits can be stressful. Especially during a pandemic.
This happened 15 minutes before the stroke of midnight on new year’s eve, 2020.
When the world was kind of celebrating the end of a dreadful year, I, along with my younger cousin, was rushing a sick, mute, old woman to a hospital 10 miles away from our little town. In an ambulance.
Her body was stiff like dead wood. Eyes motionless. She was unconscious and barely breathing.
For a moment during the commotion, both me and my brother gave a pale, sleepy stare at each other. Reality was slowly sinking in. She was either gone or in the process of passing. But neither of us wanted to check.
We were wrong.
After we finally reached the hospital and got her into observation, her condition improved in a few hours. “She had an acute seizure caused by sodium deficit,” said the doctor. And we believed that because we had no frigging clue what that meant.
Our old lady was fine. We brought her back home.
In the days that followed, we monitored her health regularly. She is our neighbour and a relative. So we listened to her stories patiently, as usual. Although we barely understand what she says.
We got her everything she needed. I remember this one instance when she said (in sign language): “Quick. Go get me a pair of dentures from the medical store. My old ones are broken.”
Me: “A what?!”
It took days. But we — family and neighbours — came together and nursed her back to health.
From this incident, I remembered one simple thing—for the first time in ages.
It is this: To step out of our self-created comfort zones in times of need. To think and act with a quick response time. To maintain a clear head in the wee hours. And to articulate and convey our thoughts clearly. Requires patience, empathy and an innate ability to stay present.
It’s a version of me that had remained dormant because of social media and my inflated ego. Until that day. And it was Eckhart’s wisdom, which I internalized from his book, that helped this version of me to resurface.
I think all it takes is an incident like this one to force us out of our naivety and whatever zones we’re trapped in — to help us see what matters.
Advice for my pals:
Snap out of your screens sometimes. Get out of your comfort zones. Then look around you. You’ll find someone who could use your help.
Step up, and give your time and energy to them. Be available for them.
Add this to your to-do or bucket list. Now.
Dining Tables Have Always Been a Pedestal for Storytelling
Only if you leave your attention-hungry phone in your room.
The other day me and my cousin were listening to our grandma talk about her early years in Bombay in the 1960s. As someone from the South of India, she barely spoke Hindi, let alone the city’s local language. It was tough.
She narrated this one instance when her kitchen caught fire. It happened so fast, all she could do was pick her newborn baby — my uncle — sleeping in the living room and rush out of the apartment. She then babbled something to the neighbours in agony. Pointing fingers at her now-smoked apartment.
They understood, rushed in, and snuffed out the kitchen’s raging fire. Luckily, the fire didn’t spread. All were safe and good.
As we listened, we observed her terror-stricken face as she narrated her ordeal. And we laughed our guts out. It’s strange how tragic life events sound hilarious after many many years.
We could listen to this one story and many many more. Only because we were available for her. Only because we weren’t busy as usual, facing our phones while we dined. These conversations never happened before ‘lockdowns’. They did, but we weren’t fully present. So we hardly remember a thing.
You must know that all she remembers now, in fine details, are the people. The neighbours who dropped everything else and acted quickly in that moment.
My grandma and they lived as a close-knit community, going through all sorts of twists and turns, in harmony, for 40+ years.
Quick advice:
Keep your phones off the dining table — always.
Be present. Be all ears. Stories are waiting to be told.
So then,
You’ve got some advice, like I did from my experiences. And now you know what matters in our digitally distracted world.
It’s the people who walk and talk around you.
