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The First Step : Me

My first step led me to Kaivalyadhama again. This time, for a Meditation and Pranayama workshop with Professor R.S. Bhogul. Prof. Bhogul has 17 years of experience in psycho-psysiological research into Yoga and 20 years of teaching Yoga Psychology at Kaivalydham, along with countless other credentials he has gained along the way making Prof. Bhogul one of the most eminent and sought after speakers across the globe. To explain what we were taught over a 5 day long workshop, is very complex. So I just thought of sharing the few things that stayed with me…

One cannot meditate.This is the first thing that is explained to you. He says, meditation happens. He can only explain the technique and be a facilitator or catalyst to the process and lead you to the path where meditation may happen to you. The experience is completely by oneself, for oneself. It cannot be explained.

The first technique explained to us was the ‘eye-closure’ technique. For this, you have to sit comfortably. And picture a blank space in front of you. You relax and just look… at nothing in particular. Keep your eyes slightly open. Feel the blinking reflexes… Focus on your whole body from the inside. And wait.. Simply wait. Your eyes will become heavier. Make no effort to shut your eyes. Let it happen naturally. Give it a minute. Don’t worry about the time. Meditation is timelessness. Once your eyes shut naturally, don’t open them. It sounds very easy, haha... but trust me there’s more to this, we all need to be guided through it. But this alone may not work for everybody.

There are different types of people. Going through different phases in their lives. One might be intellectually inclined, or artistically. One might be practical, or emotional or logical, etc. The same technique doesn’t work for everyone. For different people to reach a relaxed state of mind and body, there has to be a different approach of a combination of different forms of breathing exercises, pranayama, mudras and asanas which have to be creatively worked on by the individual themselves. Every technique has subtle nuances that need to be understood to be mastered to reach a meditative state. All these techniques are found in our Vedas, Upanishads and Scriptures. And have been researched on for over 8000 years.

A part of those breathing exercises are chants that we learn growing up, depending on what religion we belong to, like the Japji Sahib, in my case or the gayatri mantra etc. But according to Prof Bhogul these chants were written and pronounced with certain matras that don’t even exist in our scope of language today. Just pointlessly chanting without correct pronunciation or enunciation doesn’t really help the purpose. The audio link is Prof. Bhogul sharing the right way to chant.

Meditation heals you inside out. It is the cleansing of the soul and of the organs. It is healing yourself of any suffering, disease or disorder. When you’re sitting in the meditative pose, you’re meant to monitor and watch yourself. A lot of things may happen externally and internally. Your muscles might twitch, a part of your body may ache, you might feel an itch etc. You’re advised not to react as that will obstruct the healing process. Observe the pain. And as you start watching yourself, you can overcome a lot of those sensations. You have to understand that everything we feel is only in the mind. The healing happens while you observe. And overcoming the urge to react helps the soul learn detachment. And controlling reactions can change the way you handle situations. At the same time, you have to let the mind also play it’s part. You’re not meant to block your thoughts. If you do, how will you transcend the mind? I’m completely sold on the concept, I just hope I can achieve it. 😝

I met two people there. One who has been completely cured of cancer through yoga, kriya yog and meditation (dhyaan). The other, a 5 time cancer survivor who is now cancer free only because of meditation. Their journey and story left a deep impact on me. And like Prof Bhogul says, Though it depends on every individual, if done right one will never have any ailment ever again.

One thing which was very interesting is when he spoke about “swarth”. It was always meant to be a positive word. It’s only when people are selfish (not harming others) have self expectation and are self healing, do we come together to intersect into an evolved society. But evolution has somehow figured a different definition for the word.

P.S: Instead of searching for reasons to be happy, meditation puts you in a state of being which is happy. I’m kind of feeling it now… 💃💃💃

The next batch for Prof. Bhogul’s Meditation workshops starts on Feb 4th. Here are all the details.

Here is a link to Kaivalyadham’s website for other information!

All the pictures courtesy to my friend Charu Anand 💜💙

#achint kaur

HERO

The doorbell rang, it was Sunita Rajwar, one of my closest friends, an actor from NSD. She walked in with her nephew, Devasheesh Pant. He had come to Bombay for a year to stay with her to prepare for his IIT JEE. A simple young kid from a small town called Haldwani just at the foothills of the Shivalik range of the Himalayas. Smiling face, full of energy, sparkling eyes, well-spoken, smart, dressed in a T-shirt and jeans. I never felt like I was meeting him for the first time. Being from a small town myself, there is this small town vibe that I love and he had it. :) He gelled with every family member from the oldest to the youngest. He was a kid who had no baggage and an extremely positive energy. He was comfortable in his own skin.

Through the next year, what I found really interesting about this kid was that he would like to experiment with everything, and the frou-frou of the city life did not touch him at all.

Though he wanted to do his engineering from Mumbai, the centre he got was Roorkee.

He started his engineering in 2009. The first year went by smoothly. He did what he was meant to do. But during his holidays he somehow never visited Bombay, he would just run back to the hills where he belonged. He bought himself a cycle, the Firefox Roadrunner D. Whenever he had time off, he started trekking and cycling to destinations close by.

Another year passed. But somewhere something was yet to come that he hadn’t thought of. He started getting drawn to photography because he used to watch his younger cousin click interesting pictures of daily life. He told his father about his newfound passion and against all the odds his father managed to put together the money to get him his first camera, a Nikon P500. From this moment on his parallel journey started. At times on his cycle with his camera, and at times on foot with his camera.

In 2013 he got placed at Mahindra & Mahindra in Haridwar. He saved his money through the year and in 2014 he upgraded to a Nikon D5200. He continued pursuing his passion while doing his job. During that tenure he trekked to places like Gaumukh, Roopkund and Junargali Pass, Pangarchulla Peak, Kedarnatha Peak, Tungnath, Dayara Bugyal, Triund and Brahmatal. And his Firefox took him to hill stations like Nainital, Mussourie, Landsdowne and Bhimtal.

In 2015, he decided to quit his job and pursue photography. It’s a bolt that hit his family. His father being a contractor and his mother a teacher in a local school. And Inspite of having a baggage of responsibilities worked really hard to give him this education. He was the first kid in the family tree who would take the family ahead. He had responsibility towards his family, monetarily and otherwise. He was meant to be a role model for his younger brother who is also doing extremely well at school. The pressure on him was so much that even the idea of dreaming his dream left him feeling guilty. So he couldn’t quit his job, but that did not stop the kid.

From 2015 to 2017, he started going for treks once in every 2 months. Clubbing his holidays and weekends, he managed 4-8day trips to run away to the hills. There was a group of 5-6 of them who would summit peaks without guides. Go on an adventure and find new locations. But what was consistent was his photography. Whether they were mountains, the Haridwar ghats, his office, his friends, and everything in between.

All this while, I’ve been in touch with him off and on but we rarely met. This June in 2017, he surprised us by landing up in Bombay. He was playing on the playstation with my son when I asked him if he was here for work. Engrossed in his game, He said “Masi I’m just here to receive an award for best photography in the natural landscape category.” (It is an all India award held by Mahindra every year.)

I felt an unexplained surge of pride, I can’t imagine how overwhelmed his family might be. Today he enjoys his job, does his photography, he takes people for treks, the whole town loves him. He is all heart. He is like any one of those good kids who come from all across India. They all have a passion that they want to chase. But this kid proved that just because you have responsibilities at such a young age, doesn’t stop you from seeking your purpose. The time people waste in thinking about what they cannot do is all the time you actually need to pursue what you wish to. It was a realisation that it’s not only about what you want to do. It’s about all that you can do!

This year TOI Haridwar, printed two of his travelogues with his photography. Dishu is all of 27. He is a hero in his own right. He is a responsible kid, who is looking out for his parents, his sibling and yet achieving his dream. He is my hero too.

Kids in his town look up to him. He is their role model. They want to be like him someday, and he has opened up a path for them. They believe that their dreams can come true too. If there is a will, then dreams always come true.

P.S : Though this story has culminated, it’s actually just a new beginning or as Dishu would say ‘The Journey So Far…..’

#achint kaur

Believe It Or Not: Halloween Edition

The scream was so loud, that we all stopped playing in the garden and ran in. When we entered the bungalow, there was blood all over the floor. My Masi (mom’s sister) was holding her son, with horror written all over her face. She was yelling and asking him “Yeh kaise hua? Kya kar raha tha?” “Tujhe pata nahi pura keel tere paer ke andar ghusa hua hai?!” “Tujhe dard nai ho raha hai?” She was asking her older sons to call the doctor, while trying to make my cousin sit. His younger siblings and I were still standing at the door. The room was a mess. There was blood oozing out of his foot. But he was sitting like a statue, with no expression on his face. It felt like he had not even realised what had happened to him. And he didn’t feel anything. He glanced at his foot, once in a while and kept looking here and there. Everybody was in shock. This is not how we expected this to turn out.

It all started around two weeks ago. When he came back from school, he was very hungry and tired. He ate a lot and slept off. And after he woke up, he was never the same. He would feel hungry all the time. He would eat enough for 3 people and it still seemed like he was losing weight. He would walk in a daze. He would walk into things, wouldn’t react and just move on. This notorious guy who hated studies, would wake up at 3am in the morning to finish his homework. He had stopped playing. He would sit in one corner and stare into space. We would find him speaking to himself. He always had this stoic look in his eyes. We as kids, didn’t understand, but we knew the family had consulted a lot of doctors. Lot of different medication was tried. My Masi, a single mother of 5, 4 boys and a girl, was shattered and defeated. While all this was going on, news had started spreading in the neighbourhood. Even people started noticing his odd behaviour. Few suggested that he should be shown to some ‘God-men’ or ‘Tantrik’. My family is highly educated and didn’t believe in astrology and the supernatural. Hence, not paying any heed to that advice. Until this day, when we found him walking with an inch-and-a-half nail stuck in his foot and he was oblivious to the pain.

A neighbour got our family connected to some man in the town. It was a hush hush affair as far as we, the younger kids were concerned. We were conveniently asked to go in a room and study. But it was very evident that something was cooking in the house.

So, the three of us snuck out of our room towards the room the adults had assembled in. It was a colonial bungalow with huge rooms and high ceilings and there were three or four doors connecting to every room. Through the crack in one of the doors, we found a comfortable spot to spy. The whole family was standing surrounding my cousin who was lying in a banyaan and boxers, on the floor in the centre of the room. There was a man there who was carrying some peacock feathers, an earthen pot that was fuming. He lit a lot of incense sticks. He wore a multicoloured cloak, stitched together with patches of dark cloth, his long and dirty hair was held together by an untidy black turban, and he carried a jute sack. We later figured this man was called a “tantrik” and the word in itself was an education.

My cousin was lying on the floor, staring at the ceiling as if he was looking beyond. The tantrik started circling around him. He made some gestures with the peacock feather and spoke a strange language. Then he told my Masi to bring ashes from a burning pyre to complete the ritual as he believed that someone had done black-magic on my cousin. Few elders from the family did the needful. It was a long wait of 30-45 minutes while the tantrik sat next to my cousin who by now seemed to be asleep. He kept chanting in a weird language. After the ashes arrived, he rubbed and sprinkled it on my cousins body. His chanting intensified. After a point in time we realised that my cousins body was shaking as if it was the only thing in the room that was hit by an earthquake. Odd sounds could be heard as if somebody was trying to speak, but wasn’t audible. It was very difficult to figure out if it was a male or a female voice or both. It was coarse and squeaky at the same time. It was chaotic and loud. Like someone fighting and screaming and trying to say something. It felt like the tantrik was having a complete conversation with them, matching their intensity.

I remember the three of us, clinging to each other, trying to pin point where the voices were coming from. It was like they were all over the room with no particular direction of the sound. Till day, we still haven’t been able to figure out if we were shocked, terrified or fascinated. It was like Vikram and Betaal IRL.

And if that was not enough, we saw huge red patches surfacing on my cousins body. It felt like deep red lava was brimming out from those boiling patches. This continued for a while. The tantrik was all over the room, he kept sprinkling ashes on my cousin and speaking to those voices with odd body gestures, for a very long time until the voices stopped. The patches on my cousins body started looking like skin again. He was lying there fast asleep. He looked completely exhausted. He slept for nearly two days after that and woke up with a smirk. We knew our naughty notorious cousin was back to normal again.

If I’m not mistaken, I was in the First Standard. I’ve never witness anything like this in close quarters ever again. I still have a lot of questions. What I saw, was it real?? Does it exist? Do such things happen in real life? Well if they don’t, how could the whole family be having the same dream simultaneously? Or was the so-called-tantrik a brilliant magician? But even if he was, how do I explain my cousins behaviour for the two weeks prior to this “exorcism”? Since that day, I’ve always been intrigued by the supernatural. But I haven’t yet found my answers. And maybe I’m still illiterate. Maybe it is a study in itself.

As an actor, I’ve played different characters as a psychic, Tantrik or even a ghost. With complete conviction. Because of this one experience.

When you see something like this, you don’t have a choice but to believe. There are a lot of unexplained mysteries of the universe.

Nostalgic Me

While clearing space on my iCloud I came upon lots of old work memories. Behind the scenes photographs, pictures sent by fans, etc of work I’ve done over the past 22 years. I got nostalgic and felt like sharing a few things. (at the risk of sounding self-obsessed 😝)

A lot of wonderful memories came back and I realised how much I have learnt and grown, both emotionally and mentally. The different lives I’ve lived as those characters are a part of my journey through the years. I realised that there are so many people I’m still in touch with, and so many with whom I lost contact over the years and yet still so many who came back into my life. All of whom have touched my life in a beautiful way. They have been my support system in the time of need, they encouraged me and stood by me. I’ve been such a bloody lucky and pampered actor. And so very fortunate to have worked with the best set of producers, directors and co-stars. This industry has given me an identity and made me who I am today. It has given me the confidence to live my life on my own terms and single-handedly. People say it’s an unpredictable industry, but inspite of the rough patches it makes me feel as if I am in a secure government job! 😝 I didn’t find pictures of most of the work I’ve done. But everything I did find, filled me with pride.

Many people assume that it’s a glamorous lifestyle with just face value, but trust me it’s lots and lots of hard work. People call this line of work unsafe, but my experience says, it’s as safe or unsafe as any other profession. And the best thing is, people here treat you for what you are. I only feel extreme gratitude for this blessing.

Only when I see in hindsight do I see the truth, and the intensity of this dream of a life I’ve been through.

#loved it #lovingit #keeponlovingit

A Myth: Wrong and Right

It was sometime in middle the night in December 1990, in Dimapur Nagaland. All the officers from our Army Aviation flight were called for an emergency meeting. Somewhere in Assam, an army patrol was ambushed by the ULFA (United Liberation Front of Asom) militants. The militants were tipped off about the movements of the troops and they were prepared for the attack. The next morning the bodies and injured soldiers were evacuated by military choppers that were on standby. The injured were taken to the hospital. Some bodies were beyond recognition. The Choppers and the pilots returned dripping in blood. They came back carrying the seriously injured, besides limbs and corpses of the dead soldiers. But what affected me most was hearing the names of people that I knew directly or indirectly who were killed in that ambush. I was left with a very angry and vindictive emotion. As I felt ‘my’ men were killed, and so many families became orphan. Though it was a hush-hush situation, I still managed to gather a little bit of information based on pure curiosity.

This was Operation Bajrang which had been launched on the 1st of November, 1990 by the Indian Army against ULFA. This was after the Assam Government was dismissed by the centre for failing to control ULFA. These operations took place in the jungles of Lakhi Pathar, near SibSagar. Late General Jameel Mahmood was made incharge of these operations. He appointed Captain Paramjit Singh (my ex-husband), and our neighbour Major Mukul Gagoi as his pilots. Major Mukul Gagoi is Assamese and his knowledge of the local terrain was extremely helpful. They left for the operation without letting us know where they were going and when they would return. A brigade consisting of three infantry battalions was also used in this operation. The operation continued for quite a few days. ULFA suffered very heavy casualties. As usual the casualties of war were also innocent villagers. A lot of men, women, and even children lost their lives.

What I understood later about the situation was that the ULFA was fighting for a separate homeland, as they felt that their identity and culture were being overwhelmed due to influx of Bangladeshi migrants into Assam. And the central government was failing to control it. So for that reason, ULFA had the support of a lot of the locals, especially the ethnic Assamese people.

I was all of 20. I was left with a lot of confused emotions. It was not only ‘our’ men who had lost their lives. The suffering was equally horrific on the other side too. It changed the way I saw the world at that impressionable age. On that day I realised that there is nothing that is ‘right’ and nothing that is ‘wrong’. The people on both the sides were not wrong, because they were fighting for their purpose. They were just pawns on the playground, doing what they were employed to do. The news, later, only spoke about the operation. And how it was successful. How the ULFA was subdued.

What I keep wondering till this day is why we didn’t zoom out to see who the puppeteers were? What were the reasons and perspective for their cause? We keep enjoying these stories of the victory of right over wrong, the epic battles of the triumph of good over evil. Is it our basic upbringing and conditioning? Or just convenience until and unless we’re a part of the narrative? The fact is that there are still people dying as I type this blog. And we are oblivious to the actual situation…. the hidden truth.

P.S : Perhaps that’s why we still have the spirit to keep moving on.

#INCREDIBLEINDIA

It was 1997. I hired a truck from Sassoon Dock (Colaba to Andheri) to haul my stuff. My son, my help, my boxer and I along with all our belongings got loaded in the smelly, slimey fish truck. The reality of my situation hadn’t sunk in yet. as the excitement of putting things together within 6 days had taken over. was given a weeks notice to vacate the house I was living in because of family issues. I was too shocked to react.

I went to look for a house. A friend gave me the number of Mr. Nagpal of Mount Estate, Yari Road. I went to him and asked him that I need a house urgently. I needed the house to be in a decent locality as I had a child and would mostly be out working. He asked me to come back the next day and he’d show me my options.

So I went the next day, and he showed me a few flats. Among which was a decent sized studio apartment in Rohit Building, 3rd cross lane, in Lokhandwala. After I selected the house, it was one of the cheapest, the deposit amount was Rs.50,000 and the rent was Rs.5.500. I also had to pay two months of brokerage. That’s when I starting doing the math. I only had Rs.12,000 in the bank. knowing my situation, Tony and Deeya, my producers for Banegi Apni Baat, owed me Rs.15,000 which they were ready to give me immediately. Then I borrowed around Rs. 20,000 from my mom. I now had Rs. 47,000. I requested Mr. Nagpal to show me some more houses that were cheaper but still in a decent locality. He showed me one or two houses but I did not like the neighbourhood. I came back to his office defeated, not knowing what to do. He might have noticed the stress in my eyes. He kept staring at me. “Aapki aakh saaf haii.” he said he felt like he could trust me so he would pay my deposit, and my first months rent. And allow me to pay the brokerage as and when I had money. I couldn’t believe how something like this could happen. At the same time I found it hard to take such a big obligation from a stranger. So I offered to pay around Rs.25,000-30,000. To which he said “Ghar kaise chalogey? Bacha hai, kutta hai, maid bhi hai kharcha kaise niklega?” He just asked me go and gave me the house, I was so overwhelmed because I could not believe that when everything is falling apart, and a stranger can come from no where and rescue you. I kept wondering “Is he for real?”

My friend took my son for the day and I set up my first rented apartment. I just wanted to thank you Mr. Nagpal, for giving us a home.Where my son and I, started our new life together.

Stay blessed.. the world needs good souls like you. It was wonderful meeting you after 2 decades and letting me click pics with you.

P.S: It’s so funny how you changed my life and years later you don’t even recollect it.

Generations With Bow Ties And Suspenders

“Hey! If you look me up you can trace me back to the 17th century. I was used by Croation mercenaries as a type of neckwear to hold together the collars of their shirts. By 1880’s I became associated with fashion conscious academics, writers, scientists and politicians. Basically, the ‘intelligentsia’. I was the MVP in the journey of the likes of Albert Einstein, Abraham Lincoln, Winston Churchill and Sigmund Freud. By the way, I’m the Bow Tie.”

“And, I’m the Suspenders. I have also had several precursors throughout the past 300 years, but the modern me was first invented in 1820. Even I was once universally worn, due to the high cut of mid-nineteenth and early twentieth century trousers that made a belt impractical. Samuel Clemens (better known as Mark Twain) patented ‘Adjustable and Detachable Straps for Garments,’ in 1871, and I attached to everything from underpants to women's corsets.😉😏 ”

Post our rise in fashion, we have seen a lot of highs and lows. We’ve never been consistent. Really want to know more about us? Just google it. 🙄 All we’re trying to say is, you don’t need to take us so seriously. We’re happy, funny, funky, friendly, comfortable, adjusting and compromising. Try us as a part of your day, from breakfast to dinner, casual to formal, meetings to dates. We can be worn by all generations, man or woman or both. We are powerful, we make a statement. We give you an identity of your own. We are an eye-catching accessory. Jewellery if you’d like to call us so. Inculcate us with trousers, shirts, skirts, shorts, and anything else that excites you. We don’t want to be tucked away for special occasions, We want to be free. A part of everyone’s daily existence. We promise you a compliment, just hang out with us!

P:S- And if you go looking for us, you will find us somewhere in the male undergarment section of a store. 😝 #Sexist #lol

1991, February, I was admitted in the hospital for a minor ailment. Around 12am, a night before I was going to get discharged a lady got wheeled into the room. She had delivered a baby girl. It was a cesarean delivery. As she was drifting through waves of consciousness all night. I instinctively took care of the baby through out. In the morning, I bid her goodbye as I got discharged and all she said was “Thank you so much, my family is coming in today.”

That was 3 years ago. It is 1994.

I was admitted in the hospital, I was laying on the same bed. I’ve had to go through an abortion because of a complicated pregnancy. I was three months pregnant, and the procedure then was very complicated. I was injected with a lot of medication, with tubes hanging from my body, I was just waiting for the delivery pains to start. The pain started after 38 hours, around 11pm.

I was wheeled to the emergency room, and the nurse on duty explained that I will be moved to the ICU once the spasms stop and my pain regularizes. She left a call bell with me and asked me to ring it whenever I needed her or once the bleeding started. After around an hour, the pain increased, I started bleeding profusely and could see the head of my dead child coming out. It was depressingly scary. I rang the bell. Once, twice, thrice, what felt like a 1000 times, till I realised the bell wasn’t working. I screamed out for help many times. I tried hard not to cry, so that I could keep myself sane. To divert myself, I started counting the corners of the walls, vents of the air-conditioning, pointed corners of a table, chair, doors, windows, but the time wouldn’t pass. I started talking to myself. Visualising that I was sitting with my friends, discussing my problems with them, so that I would not feel alone.

With the help of my elbows, I sat up straight. I looked down I could see the sex of the baby now. It was a baby boy. I screamed “SOMEBODY PLEASE HELP! HELP!!!”

…………………………………………………….

No one came...

I tried to get up but I realised I was paralysed from waist down. I had no feeling in my legs. I was beyond pain. That was when I noticed the soaked sheets, my legs and thighs covered in blood. Blood was dripping from either side of my bed. There was a pool of blood on the floor. I started making plans for the future, anything to help me escape. But every time I looked down, the horror I saw can’t be explained with words.

I almost felt cheated by the energies I prayed to my whole life. And this carried on.

It’s around 3:30-4:00am. The nurse on calls shift ended. She and the next nurse on duty came to check on me. The door opened, I still remember seeing this haze in front of my eyes. I could just hear her exclaim something like “OH MY GOD” and all I kept saying is “The bell is not ringing.” The new nurse came close to me and held my hand, wiped my tears. That’s when I saw her clearly. I smiled, never ever in my life have I felt relief like that before. She was the same woman who had delivered the baby in early 1991, and today I got to know, that she is a nurse. She held my hand and helped me deliver the baby, cleaned me up, held me, talked to me, till 9:30am when the doctor arrived. All I remember is that I will never forget that night.

Few said, it was an amazing coincidence.

I Know It Was A Miracle!