241. Accidental Joy

(ही पोस्ट मराठीत इथं आहे.)

On that day I realized that for a long time I have been planning 'moments of joy'. When one is working, one has to plan leave, one has to arrange for work. Then planning the travel and stay, packing the bag .... come into picture. ‘Vanishing away’ is no longer an option for me. (Ah! Those golden days when I could disappear!)  This has been my lifestyle for many years. Of course, within those planned moments, there  are always surprising moments of joy.

On that evening, there was a Hindi play at a nearby institute. I read about it on Facebook. The name of the drama was ‘Court Martial’. I searched about it on the internet and found it interesting. Indian Express   describes it as:  The play Court Martial is about a highly obedient soldier who is found on the wrong side of the law. His actions shock the regiment and the Army orders a court martial to investigate the actions of this soldier.

Coincidentally my friend Yamini (name changed) called me on the same morning. She was to be in the same area for another event. So, we decided to meet at 7.30 pm.

When I reached the venue for the play, there were already a lot of people. Many young and old were in the compound. I asked the institute staff about the exact venue for the play. There are couple of halls in this institute, so always better to get the direction in advance! The two staff members were engrossed in a video on their cell phone. They asked me to go a particular hall. When I entered the directed hall, I picked up the third-row seat. I saw some young girls in a classical dance attire. I was bit confused. But I thought that may be couple of young girls are performing before the play starts.

One old lady sitting behind me asked, “Is your daughter or granddaughter going to dance?” Then I realized that I was sitting in a wrong hall.  

I came out again and asked the same staff about the play. By this time their video watching was over, so they listened to me properly. Then one of them told me, “Oh! It was yesterday!” He added, “it was little loud, but it was good.” It appears that the Facebook account I follow had posted a wrong date.

Now I had four options. To go home and come back to meet Yamini. But coming back seemed next to impossible. Second option was to go home and cancel meeting Yamini. But I wanted to meet her. We had not met for a long time; it was good opportunity to catch up. Third option was to sit outside under a tree and wait until 7.30 pm. Unfortunately, I was not carrying a book. And the fourth option was to attend the dance or cultural program – whatever it was.

It sounded a bit funny. Not only I did not know anyone of the organizers or participants, but I also did know nothing about dance. I was not invited but had gate-crashed their event. But there were empty seats. I sat in the last row, so that if their guests needed seats, I could leave without disturbing the event.

It was an event organized by one Dance School. The school specializes in Bharatnatyam.I am not providing the name of the school and photos of the performances, because I don't think it is proper to do so.

The person anchoring the program spoke in two languages – Marathi and English. She was fluent in both the languages. Her anchoring was fantastic. It was poetic but clear. She did not keep on talking but only briefly introduced each dance. It was obvious that she had prepared well. After a long time, I was seeing someone anchoring so well. I was impressed.

Bharatnatyam is an Indian Classical dance originated in Tamil Nadu. Even without reading about it, I could guess this - with the kind of music being played when the event started. The music somehow took me back to a period almost forty years ago – to Kanyakumari. When I was in Kanyakumari, I was introduced to the singing of the legend M.S. Subbulakshmi. The early morning devotional songs, the cool breeze, the smell of the sea, sound of high-tide sea,, the peace, the joy … it all came back to me in an instant. It is amazing to note how our mind reacts to different stimulations.

Girls of various ages performed on the stage. It was beautiful to watch them and appreciate their performance. They were using the body to express and communicate to the audience. I did not understand the words that were being sung. But the dancers’ movements and expressions were meaningful to me. Their synchronization of movements with each other and with the song was amazing. For a while I also envied them for being expert in performing art. I am an ‘artless’ person and I sometimes feel bad about it 😊

Do these dancers always feel connected to their body? Do they find words unnecessary to communicate? How do they build the bridges between what dance requires and what the daily life demands?  

Some students were very young. And some of them were experienced women. These older ones were actually dance teachers. But there was no hierarchy in how they performed and the focus of the performances. Except one, all were group performances. How much efforts the performers and their guides must have gone through – one can only imagine.

Most of the dances were about Shiva, Nataraja, Goddess Parvati, and Ashtalakshmi. I heard different terms like Pushpanjali, Alarippu, Jatiswaram, Devi Kirtanam. There was also a brief description of Raaga and Taala.

Enjoying the performance for about ninety minutes, I had number of reflections.

The first was about how I lost interest in Mythology. Many Indian mythological stories (like Shiva is dancing, and Ramsetu is being built etc.) are wonderful. I used to enjoy them a lot. However, in recent times I have lost all connection to these mythological stories. Why? Because nowadays ritual have taken control of everything. In my world, in the world around me, the innocence of celebrating festivals (with love, with joy, with connecting communities around) has vanished. It is more of being “proud of being born in a certain religion”, it is about “us versus them” and so on …. It does not suit my disposition.  So, I have distanced myself from these festivals. But it is time I go to the mythology again.

Another reflection is: you don’t have to belong to some group/community to be able to enjoy and appreciate. If there is something good happening, one can always feel positive. One can laugh well with strangers too. One can enjoy with strangers too.

I always feel that I am thrown in this world (like I was in that event hall) without knowing anyone. I don’t belong here. It is not my home. I am here just for a while. I am not going to carry anything from here. Hence I have no bonds. I have no chains. I have no attachments. 

At the same time, there are people, places, mountains, rivers, sky, ….. who are part of me. They have enriched me. Without them I won’t be who I am. As long as I remember, within me both these contrary aspects ‘live happily with each other’. 😀

I have always found avenues to enjoy. to smile; to have fun; to experience and express emotions. Without any formal label for these connections, I have always been connected. There have been many strong connections throughout - some temporary, some long lasting. It is never about whether ‘to be or not to be’; it is more like ‘be and be not’.

After some time, it was time to call my friend. I silently left the venue – without saying goodbye to anyone, without giving explanation to anyone. No one noticed I was there and no one noticed that I left. Perfect. That one and half hour was a kind of summary of my life. Have fun, carry nothing, leave. May be in real life I am one of the performers at times – definitely not Bharatnatyam performer 😊 

Another reflection point is - Planning is good. But that does not necessarily mean unplanned is bad. There can be joy even in accidental experiences. There can be joy even with strangers. One has to be always open to new possibilities. One has to be open to new opportunities. New experiences count. New people enrich us.

“Accidental Joy” happens. It might be waiting for us at the next corner. The ‘accident’ of entering into a wrong event not only gave me moments of unfiltered joy but also gave me opportunity to reflect and realize.

This was great. 

What else do I need?

Nothing! 

240: An Experiment in 2024

(ही पोस्ट मराठीत इथं वाचता येईल.)

Questions like "Who is your favorite teacher?" or "Who is your favorite author?" often seem amusing (and sometimes even pointless) to me. The reason is simple—there is rarely a single person who stands out so distinctly that no one else comes close. We can admire multiple teachers and/or authors simultaneously, each for different reasons. Our memories of people and experiences are shaped by various contexts, and predicting which memory will surface at a given time is impossible.

Someone recently asked me, "What was your happiest moment in 2024?" and I found myself utterly confused. Several things came to mind, but ranking them seemed impossible. How do I compare the joy of unexpectedly spotting a beautiful bird with the happiness of mastering a new skill? Do I even need to rank them? Must one experience be considered superior while the rest become insignificant? Of course, I didn’t express all these thoughts to the person who asked. Instead, I gave a quick, generic response and moved on.

A Yearlong Experiment

Later, when my work was done, I opened a small box from my cupboard.

No, not to eat Shrewsbury biscuits (those were long gone!) This box contained notes from an experiment I had been conducting throughout the year. It was time to examine them carefully.

At the beginning of 2024, I came across a Facebook post suggesting an interesting activity: Every week, write down a positive event from that week on a piece of paper, store it in a jar, and at the end of the year, revisit all those moments to reflect on the good things that happened.

I was curious about the experiment. I decided to try it, with a few modifications. Instead of a jar, I used a box. The idea of simply noting a "positive event" felt too vague, so I redefined it: "What made me feel happy or content this week?" This is what I recorded every Sunday evening. A reminder on my phone helped me stay consistent with this Weekly Positive Note practice.

Of course, I didn’t always manage to write the note on Sunday itself. Sometimes, I would delay it by two or three days. When I finally opened the box at the end of the year, I found 51 notes out of 52 weeks—one week must have been missed, or perhaps a note had slipped outside the box into my cupboard.

What Did These Notes Reveal?

There was nothing grand or extraordinary in these notes—just small moments, everyday experiences that might have otherwise been forgotten. If I had tried to recall my happiest moments of the year without these notes, I would have remembered only two or three. But here, I had written proof that I had experienced joy 47–48 more times! And this was just what I had consciously recorded—surely, I had felt happiness even more frequently than that.

So what were these happy moments?

• Meeting people and sharing their joy.
• Unexpectedly spotting a beautiful bird.
• Enjoying the rain.
• Taking a peaceful Sunday morning walk on empty roads.
• Visiting parts of the city (like Kondhwa and Ramwadi) for the first time.
• Noticing magnificent trees while riding the metro.
• Buying books.
• Reaching my goal of reading a certain number of books in the year.
• Writing something meaningful.

Even work-related joys made it into my notes. I have always chosen work that makes me happy, but looking back, I realized that even the small details of the work gave me joy.

• Successfully holding an engaging discussion with rural communities on LGBTQ+ topics made me feel accomplished.
• Completing a training manual was a moment of satisfaction.
• Seeing participants in a workshop actively engage in meaningful discussions brought a sense of fulfillment.
• Learning a new language and watching a film in that language with minimal reliance on subtitles was an unexpected delight.

There were new experiences too—visiting the Pune Meteorological Observatory for the first time, attending a workshop on Constitution of India, and listening to instrumental music at Yashada. Even something as simple as eating a pancake after many years found its place in my happiness list! 😊

Healing and Gratitude

2024 also brought an accident, followed by a necessary surgery. Naturally, a significant portion of my recorded happiness revolved around medical progress—

• The ability to sit up on my own.
• Regaining movement in my arm.
• Being able to eat with my right hand again.
• Returning to typing on my laptop.

For nearly three to four months, my notes were filled with milestones in my recovery.

Some entries expressed gratitude—for people, for life itself. Even letting go of certain things effortlessly brought its own kind of happiness.

What Did This Exercise Teach Me?

Happiness and contentment aren’t found only in big achievements or major events—something I already knew in theory, had read about, and even experienced before. But going through this year-long process reinforced that understanding.

Of course, my year wasn’t without struggles. There were challenges, pain, and difficult moments, as expected in life. But now, looking at these notes, I find myself smiling again.

In the final balance, these small joys were what remained and truly mattered.

I am sure such positive moments have always existed in my life, but I had never made a conscious effort to observe and appreciate them before. If I pay even closer attention, I know I will find even more layers of joy in everyday life.

So, I think I’ll continue this experiment in 2025 as well! 😊