Battered and Bruised

It has been a long time since I did any hardcore exercises. I try and do stretches via yoga thrice a week (for 20 mins max) and one day of badminton which keeps me a little bit healthy and fit. Heavy duty bodyweight exercises for an hour and a half: haven’t done that in a very long time. We (Mr M and I) signed up for the three-day workshop to learn something new, which involves a mix of all (cardio, stretch, bodyweight exercises etc) and today was our first day. It was brutal on us. Mr M and I had to drag ourselves back with so much effort. At least I got off light because I can relax at home whereas poor Mr M had to go to work for half a day. Wonder what will happen to both of us after the third day.

It felt good to do those extreme stretches which were part of the techniques taught. I could feel my muscles, especially in the legs screaming at me. If I am bedridden and don’t blog for a while, then you know what is the cause šŸ˜€ At least I will have time to recover before the school starts next week.

Why misery loves company?

Don’t ask me why I thought of this. The thought just came when I was wool gathering.

Misery = Pain.
Pain shared is pain divided = a well known saying and holds true too.
Sharing requires company.
So -> misery loves company.

True or false ?

Some things are hereditary

Yesterday when my sister had called me, half the time she was yelling at her son to go slow in his cycle. She was constantly complaining how he is too fast with his cycle, especially now that he has properly learnt to do the pedaling correctly and doesn’t keep his foot on the ground. But he is not ready to learn how to brake in spite of her constant efforts. I told her that she should really chill out and relax. He is a kid and they learn at their own pace. If he is a little fast , its perfectly fine. Somethings just run in the family. We just can’t help it. (For the background story which involves a few of my bicycle memories, you should probably check out this post). She was like , yeah right. OKĀ for you to say it but if he runs over some one else I would have to do the explanation. And then the yelling started again. I couldn’t help but smile. This kid, my nephew, wanted to do wheeling in his small cycle even when he was around 2. And with the size of the cycle all he could do was to lift it up and turn it around and slam it back on the ground. I can see it vividly how things are going to happen later once he gets his hand on a better cycle. (And aunts are known for spoiling their nieces and nephews šŸ˜‰ ) I hope he learns to do all these stunts a little carefully without any harmĀ to himself. A little bruise and some pain is OK according to me, without which we cannot learn anything at all. And that way he would also know his limit.

My sister wouldn’t know about getting hurt while learning something because she is one of those people who did not learn to cycle because the probability of getting hurt was too much. I have had my share of bruises and accidents but I have always been amazed by how my sister, when she was trying to learn to cycle or rather when we coerced her to learn, did not get evenĀ a single scratch on herself. Whenever there was a small hope that she was gonna fall down and get bruised, she would somehow push the vehicle down and stand and at the end, the vehicle is the one that got severely scratched everywhere. And after a few such scratches I refused to give her my cycle to learn. But now after all these years, she has at least learnt to drive a two-wheeler (geared vehicle) even without knowing how to do cycling and she managed to fall from the vehicle too. Not once but twice. Thank God she did not hurt herself. If my nephew is going to look up to someone to learn about cycling or driving and stuff and if he looks up to me or my brother (he has the highest chance because of the proximity), then my sister is gonna be worrying for a very long time in her life. My nephew likes to ride with my brother in his bike, especially when he is driving fast with all that wind in his face…really, some things are hereditary I say. And he loves carsĀ and going for a ride especially long drives. He loves riding with me in my two wheeler because I go faster than his dad or mom. And that is what excites himĀ (and 40-60 isn’t that bad especially in my home town where the traffic isn’t that worse). Now I am just waiting for my second niece who is as rowdy as my nephew to catch up to him. And with her father (my brother) as her example, there are some fun times ahead.Ā Ā 

To love, to be hurt and yet, to hope, again

I heard these three songs in a sequence and found a pattern and thought it nice. I loved all three, but best of the lot is obviously Sam Smith’s one.

 

https://soundcloud.com/samsmithworld/samsmithasaprocky

 

 

Let me end this with my favorite Khalil Gibran’s quotes which almost resembles the theme of these three songs.

To melt and be like a running brook that sings its melody to the night.
To know the pain of too much tenderness.
To be wounded by your own understanding of love;
And to bleed willingly and joyfully.
To wake at dawn with a winged heart and give thanks for another day of loving;
To rest at the noon hour and meditate love’s ecstasy;
To return home at eventide with gratitude;
And then to sleep with a prayer for the beloved in your heart and a song of praise upon your lips.

Those few moments

Ger’s post on fleeting moments, reminded me of this recent incident. Let me tell you upfront that it isn’t a romantic or a very nice moment. But a moment nonetheless. One night after my yoga class, we three friends went to a dhaba close by for our dinner. It was quite late, say around 9.15 pm or so if I am not wrong. It was a small place with some chairs placed around the table facing the road. It was quiet outside with very few traffic in that side road. Opposite to this dhaba there was a clinic. While having our roti and sabzi we were talking about official stuff when my eyes fell on this woman sitting on the sidewalk. There was a guy, looked like a friend of hers, sitting next to her. She had her phone in one hand and was talking very animatedly. Nothing new there. Lot of people talk on the phone on the sidewalks at night when they find some peace and quiet. But something about the way she was waving her hand and then covering her face and then looking up told me that she was very agitated or upset over something. By then I had totally tuned out my friends and it was just me and her. Suddenly she started to cry. Not the wailing kind, just a sob which she tried to control but just couldn’t. Like she couldn’tĀ hold herĀ pain any longer and it just cameĀ out through herĀ tears. She was still on the phone and sobbing uncontrollably. It felt like she had received a very bad news about someone, at least that is how it felt to me. Her friend who was giving her space, came close and gave her a one armed hug so as to convince her that there is someone to hold her so she can let go. I almost had tears in my eyes.Ā I so wished that I could go and give her a hug, if only to share a small amount ofĀ pain that was there in her face. Suddenly I heard my name being called and realized that I was supposed to be having dinner with my friends. By the time I was about to turn back to my friends, she lifted her face and saw me for a second, eyes full of tears and bent down her head. I felt bad after that because it felt likeĀ I was part of a very private moment that was supposed to be hers only. I have thought of that woman every time I pass that place and wish that whatever it was that day, she found her peace.Ā