Fearless

Posted on June 9, 2017 by Prionka Ray

What is fearless (to you)?

When I asked this question to those around me, the answers differed.

“It is the ability to speak the truth without hesitation.”

“It is the belief that I stand with the truth.”

“It is the ability to share my emotional and vulnerable moments with those close to me.”

“It’s when you are not scared of anybody or anything, and even if you are, you don’t show it.”

“Freedom.”

“Fearless… is to be able to feel and act consciously from state of awareness and to own responsibility for everything that comes under it.”

What is fearless (to me)?

My favourite movie character is Mulan from Disney. The eponymous character brandishes her sword and saves her nation. In my eyes, she’s fearless, not just because she charges in to a battlefield, but also because she has the courage and the guts to break stereotypes and break norms of the society. She has the courage to stand by what she believes in. Fearlessness comes in many forms, and I have met great warriors of everyday life. They are resilient, sometimes quiet, and sometimes not, but they all have faced the battles of life, and won over demons, both outside and inside. That’s fearless to me.

Here I present to you my most recent definitions of fearless. These are two women I interacted with recently. One a mere teen, a young girl, who was bullied once but who, now has returned to fearlessly face her demons, and overcome them through her book and her performances, and the other, a 46-year-old international personality, TV host and speaker, who fearlessly tramples on every rule book, to say and do what she believes in.

Aija Mayrock: Author, Performer, Activist

Aija was bullied as a child and as a teen. That kind of experiences affect most people negatively. However, Aija turned the same experience as a motivator to help others. I got to know Aija when I came across her very powerful anti-bullying performance. For someone to overcome the feeling of not being good enough, to overcome self doubts and hesitation that comes with being bullied, and still to be able to give such a power packed performance on her experience is fearlessness indeed! But she is not bitter. On the contrary, she was friendly, enthusiastic and prompt, when I approached her for an interview. Read the interview here

Anita Kapoor: TV Host, Media personality, Speaker.

I met Anita at an event where she was the main speaker. She spoke on being fearless. According to her, the courage to be vulnerable, the courage to embrace whatever you feel, is what fearlessness is all about. On the surface, this seemed like a paradox. You could either be strong or be vulnerable. Right? But she proved it otherwise. And she proved it with a personal story, so poignant, that for the first time, I was blinking back tears in a live talk, and in a hall full of powerful, and successful women. Anita eloquently spoke of her bereavement, her fresh loss, and her journey of grief. However, she did it fearlessly. Anita is not new to such fearless show of vulnerabilities. Her documentary on living with the elderly touches on the same personality trait of hers. It’s raw, it’s sincere, and its powerful.

The above are just two definitions of fearlessness. They are not the only ones. As I meet new people, both men and women, my definition keeps expanding, keeps growing.

And then of course, Taylor Swift sings…

Source: Imgrum

So, maybe being fearless is also about being able to take a leap of faith. My definition continues to expand…

(This post is dedicated to the fearless. Thanks to The Asian Parents Magazine for endorsing the interview, and thanks to Primetime Business and Professional Women’s Association for the beautiful evening with Anita).

Why I wrote “Sia”?

Posted on May 28, 2017 by Prionka Ray

Why I wrote, Sia? (A Writer’s Perspective)

I began writing Sia in 2009 and there were two reasons for it. One, I had a story to tell, a story that though imagined, was inspired by real people, real places and real emotions. Two, because my dad belonged to Benaras and I thought he might like a story based on the place. No one knew that I was writing this story. It was my little secret. I wrote a bit every day, whenever I would get time after work and whenever I was done with the other responsibilities.

Incidentally, Sia’s story began a bit differently to what is in the book now. The current version came about when somewhere along the way, the characters of the story took over, and I ended up, swayed and influenced by them. I laughed and cried while writing. It was almost as if those characters showed me a glimpse of their lives, and I remained a mere observer. I enjoyed their story.

As a creator though, I was aware that I was not just a narrator of this fiction, but that I had in my capacity, a chance to observe the bigger picture, one, that could reflect the social norms, the fair, the unfair, the patriarchy and the lethargy to change. As my story progressed, I was also aware that the narrative and the social commentary would inevitably cross path. I was glad of it.

Unfortunately, when I was almost at the end of this story, my father died. It took me two full years to come back to the story and finish it. Eventually, when it got published, I dedicated it to him. I was sure he would be happy to know that I had written him a story… wherever he might be.

What are the readers saying? (Readers’ Perspective)

“This book deserves to be made into a movie.” (Goodreads)

“I didn’t know a book like this will affect me so much” (Goodreads)

“There was a good mention about the current problems faced by the 20s and 30s generation with a hint of raunchy humour.” (Reviewer, Between the Lines)

“My only question to the author remains that why is it that the doctor is always a ‘he’ in a fiction book? If Mrs Ray’s next book has a ‘her’ as the primary doctor I would consider it to be a revolutionary change.” (Amazon)

“The book is very detail oriented, beautifully describing each place and the setting of characters throughout the book.”

“Debutant author, Prionka talks about many issues plaguing the society – generation gap, infidelity in marriage, not having a son in the family, etc.” (Reviewer)

“I love the feel good factor it leaves you with.”

“There’s a Munni in all our lives. I could relate to her.”

Sia, New Edition

Thanks to all you readers, my book, Sia, is in its second edition now. I remain grateful and humbled. And as far as the story is concerned, it’s still for you, dad!

(Sia is available on Amazon, Kindle, Kobo, Nook etc.)

Stories are Meant to be Shared

Posted on May 19, 2017 by Prionka Ray

Hello! Hello! I have been missing, and that’s because April and May turned out to b
e real busy. They were full of happenings, events and collaborations. And so I had an enriching time meeting people, being inspired and then gushing about it all on social media. Amidst all these ‘gushing about’, I was faced with a dilemma: to share or not to share. But before I go to to that juncture of my narrative, let me step back and talk about the events that led me to it.

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It all began with a diplomatic event that I co-organised for my clients. And in the process, I had the privilege of meeting many strong, powerful and superbly talented women. These were diplomats, heads of organisations, Doctors, artists and professionals, who were not just talented, and confident, but were also women who believed in the power of their stories. Whenever people with passion and purpose articulate, there’s always much to learn from each view-point. I was not just inspired, but also heartened to see how stories had the capacity to reach out to people who would have never assumed what you have gone through and wouldn’t know otherwise, what your ideas are. These stories may have originated from a personal space perhaps, however, as soon as they were shared, they became a place of resource, a place to test ideas, to validate experiences and to learn. Learn, I surely did.

And on a morning, overcast with clouds, the guests arrived at the embassy, and we celebrated 50 years of bilateral ties between Indonesia and Singapore. Along with that, we celebrated the inspiration behind Ibu Kartini of Indonesia. It reiterated the fact, that years after we are gone, our stories, our ideas and thoughts will be passed down. My sincere thanks to Indoconnect & the Indonesian Embassy for trusting me with such a beautiful and meaningful occasion.

For the second event, I had the opportunity to share my own story. This time, I was asked to share my ‘Empathy Journey’ as a mentor to teens-at-risk. This is a topic close to my heart. Nevertheless, it’s only when I began gathering my thoughts before the event, that I realised that even my own story needs introspection. I realised that empathy is not a tap to be switched on when I am mentoring or when I am volunteering, it’s a way of life that should be a part of everything I do. I shared my epiphany, my leanings from the many inspiring people that I have met, and my learning from the many failures and successes that I have seen.

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Ted Ed @ NYGH 2017

As I shared my story, I felt grateful to have been given this opportunity to address a crowd of young impressionable students. I hoped that I left some bits of my stories behind in that glittering hall, stories that could be used as a resource, as a validation and, as a positive learning.

Eventually, I was asked: should stories be shared? I thought back to the many who would say no. And then I thought of the few powerful and inspirational ones who would say, yes. I paused and took a stand: Positive stories and positive emotions are meant to be shared. The more they are shared, the more they reach people and touch them, engulfing them in a mist of positivity. They validate a positive intention and allow a feeling of wellbeing. Asian culture frowns upon boasting. However, I have seen the stories inspire many towards positive thoughts and positive actions. Ok, so what about negative stories? That would be an interesting debate, and we shall keep it for another day. But I can safely say that some people have a knack of turning even the negative stories to a positive one. One such young lady is Aija Mayrock. The spunky author, performer and activist turned her bullying experiences towards a positive road to success. I greatly enjoyed interacting with her. Look out for her interview in my next post.

For now, keep sharing!

Colour me Slow

Posted on April 8, 2017 by Prionka Ray

This mind, this fickle mind, it is dependent on these tiny changes around it. And yet it knows it not. It swirls with the events, happenings, and the teeny-weeny shifts. But it seldom registers and often forgets. Like it rode on the golden rays that burst from the window in the morning. It noticed the tiny drop of tea that trickled along the rounded cup. It smelled the waft of breakfast in the neighbour’s house, and it sighed happily when the dog settled at the feet rustling that page of newspaper that floated on its way to the floor. And yet it remembered nothing overtly. It just vaguely felt a happy feeling somewhere, completely intangible and, somewhat transient.

It stayed alert in that yoga session, it stayed silent through that repetitive song from the childhood and, it was filled with melancholy at the thought of a loved one lost. It went off course on a travel plan gone awry, and was agitated and full of angst when the normal and sedate routine was disrupted. It even feigned anger when confronted. And yet, it remembered nothing overtly. It just vaguely registered the anxiety in the periphery of its being.

However, when the day had run its course, it settled in to a sluggish state of slumber. It’s only then, with the wisdom of the one that has slowed down deliberately, it paused at each event and wondered why one is not mindful of these deceptively tiny changes that in reality, have the astounding power to change the energy of the universe. What’s the hurry to move on, it asked. Why is it that these seismic shifts and happenings go unnoticed? Is this why the wise preached mindfulness? Is this what I am missing? The knee-jerk reaction was to pause each event, and to analyse each emotion. It seemed painfully contrived. But, the restlessness had been initiated, and action was inevitable. That’s when ‘it’ and ‘I’ merged. Experience, I knew, was mandatory. Action, I knew, was necessary. However, reaction, I realised, was optional. It was voluntary. So, yes, I paused.

I pause now to notice the stars that blink and yet it doesn’t. I look within, and somehow, the events stop rushing. They do not drown me. Instead, they just melt and mix, they float and flow. They become a slow dance of energy, filling the spaces vacant, reacting to emotions and thoughts and, eventually they change me a bit constantly with the newness of the experiences. I find it profound. I find it overwhelming. I just find it. I find me. I pause to notice the way I react. I pre-empt and I am prepared.

This mind, this fickle mind, has been splattered with the colours, these colours, made of experiences. All I had to do was slow down, notice, feel and acknowledge. So, here I slow me down, and feel the swirling colours as the shades splatter my soul, I revel. I see the missed moments in my mind: the bird, mid-flight, the leaf, overturned, the child, pouting, the mother, indulgent, the egos at play, the love at display, and the pulsating life that links it all.

See now, I am covered in colours so brilliant! It’s the exuberance of these slowed down experiences, and see, I am alive!

Love

Posted on February 14, 2017 by Prionka Ray

Love. It sure gets me verbose, taciturn, introspective, meditative, skeptical and mushy, all at the same time. The definition of love has actually changed with my age and my understanding of the world, or perhaps the understanding of myself.

When I was younger, a mere child, I lived surrounded by love, protected and nestled and cocooned by it. And that is my first memory of love without even knowing it was love. By high school, ‘love’ was ubiquitous, one couldn’t ignore it anymore or feign ignorance. Valentine’s Day was a word unknown to us still, but we loved and were loved. And that ‘love’ was defined by the movies, by the songs and in rare cases, by few books. MPK and QSQT became the parametres of love and those who don’t know what these acronyms mean are clearly not from my generation. But I am willing to help, so here goes… they stand for Meine Pyaar Kiya and Qayamat se Qayamat Tak, the teenaged, mushy block busters of our times. We watched those movies as many times as we could so that we could be completely sure what love meant. We were sure by the 12^th viewing.

When I reached the late teens, Kevin Costner singing, “Everything I do, I do it for you” was the penultimate idea of love. It was the love anthem and I remember standing up in solidarity and in respect in the movie hall when the song played.

Being a little shy, I also had a quieter idea of love, one that was captured in the song, “More Than Words” or perhaps, “Aate Jaatey” (from MPK). Nevertheless, love was still decided by the media, still defined by the popular versions and still conveyed by the prescribed view of it. Even when I encountered the actual roses and the valentine-day cards, my definitions remained temporary and capricious, my understanding, swayed by what was expected.

As I grew older, love meant having a life-partner and then it morphed gently to include motherhood. I think motherhood still remains the most instinctive and beautiful love of all. But even that had a prescribed version of it. Prescribed or not, that love had the maximum changing power in it. It weakened the boundaries of love and seeped out of the prescribed lines. And then with experiences and age, the understanding of my ‘love’ grew.

Love was not about the movies, the songs or the people anymore. It became subtler. It was about the meaning of things and the depth of intentions rather than the visibility of the actions. It was about emotions, emotions that couldn’t be contained, that couldn’t be prescribed and that couldn’t be defined. It was all about colouring outside the lines, and overflowing the glass. It was about reaching out to the harshest of the people and feeling the beauty of all that was around me. The more my love expanded in meaning, the more I loved, and I loved grandly and lavishly, and I loved beyond the candle lights, and beyond the gifts, beyond the Valentine’s Days.

Today, love is gratitude, loyalty and unconditional support. Love is a promise that I make to those I call friends and family, a promise that I will stand by you, no matter what. It’s also a promise to those beyond my immediate circle, and to those I don’t know yet, that I will offer you a form of benevolent love that runs out of the prescribed lines. I offer you a non-judgmental and perennial hand of friendship.

Because, love, it can never be contained. So, I let it flow and I included it in everything I do.

My Reading List: 2016

Posted on December 30, 2016 by Prionka Ray

Writers, artists, playwrights, film makers and all the others, who take on the responsibility of observing, commenting and understanding the society in which we live in are doing us all a great favour. They look at patterns in life, in society and in behaviour, and then they analyse it all to give us a summary, coloured by their own bias of course, but a summary, nevertheless. It makes our lives easier. It saves us from having to dwell deep in to the chaotic depths of our own personalities, the complicated mishmash of our own relationships and the unexplained mysteries of many combined lives. In short, they do our introspection for us.

My homage is to the authors today, especially the authors of fiction or perhaps, fact that is garbed as fiction. These authors offer us a glimpse of a collective struggle, they offer us explanation of why something is the way it is and sometimes they influence us to question everything that we know. My reading list of 2016 seems to have shown a pattern, quite involuntarily. Most of the books that I have read have questioned the society’s ways of doing things. They have questioned what is wrong and what is right and they have forced me, the reader to question the notion of truth. Many of these are asian writers but that, I feel has not made a difference to my experience as a reader. What has been consistent, is that I have been forced to think and rethink what I know and what I have believed in earlier. To be honest, I have enjoyed the process immensely! So, here is my reading list of 2016. These books reflect the society in different times and in spite of that, in each era, they have questioned why society’s rules are decided by a handful of powerful people or they have forced me to look at alternate realities and alternatives.

The God of Small Things by Arundhati Roy

A Passage to India by E M Forster

The Palace of Illusions by Chitra Banerjee Divakaruni

Oranges are not the Only Fruit by Jeanette Winterson

Dubliners by James Joyce

Beloved by Toni Morrison

The Woman Warrior by Maxine Hong Kingston

The Sun also Rises by Ernest Hemingway

Love in the Time of Cholera by Gabriel Garcia Marquez

A Case of Exploding Mangoes by Mohammed Hanif

Sea of Poppies by Amitav Ghosh

The Bloody Chamber and other Stories by Angela Carter

1984 by George Orwell

Sputnik Sweetheart by Haruki Murakami

Wild Nights by Joyce Carol Oates

Happy reading! May we always question. May we always want to know.

My Moleskine & I!

Posted on November 22, 2016 by Prionka Ray

Love the Black! (Source: rebloggy.com)

I am in a serious relationship with my Moleskine notebook. For those who get attached to routines, circumstances and things, this post is for you!!

So, yes, I am in love with my notebook. It means I am never without it and I get anxious as the year nears its end, because then I must be in possession of a new one before the pages run out in my old one. Not only am I loyal and proud, but I am also pedantic about the kind of notebook I buy. For the uninitiated, Moleskine’s notebooks are stylised to follow the aesthetics of a ‘traditional’ black notebook with rounded corners and ivory-coloured paper. Bound in cardboard, it has, what they call a spine, which allows the notebook to lie flat. An elastic band is used to seal, and a ribbon bookmark is included along with an expandable pocket inside the rear cover. You can see that I like describing it. Now, coming to its name, Moleskine. It does not have an official pronunciation in any other language except Italian.

Aware of my loyalty, one Christmas, my girls decided to gift me a Moleskine notebook. But alas, it was too late in the year! December 25^th! That’s really too late to buy a planner that I would need right on 1^st January. Isn’t it? Unfortunately, they knew not that each year, somewhere around October/ November, I dutifully make my way to the book store and buy that same moleskin. And so, that year, I was the proud owner of two Moleskine (yes, exactly the same ones).

2016 is nearing its end and today was my Moleskine buying day. ‘Black, soft, daily’, I blurted to the lady at the store. She was used to this. There are many like me, you see, who refuse to budge from what they like, what they are used to and what they hold on to, very dearly indeed! Perhaps, it is somewhat like holding on to ideas that you get accustomed to. You don’t want to change. Sometimes, because you are too comfortable with the status quo and some times because accepting new is like admitting that your previous idea had a flaw.

So, at the store today, like a dogmatic authoritarian, I guarded my choice. Yes, the same one! There are other colours, said the lady at the counter, tentatively. Equally hesitant, I glanced at the range. Red, Orange, Blue, green. Wow! But no, no, I need to be loyal, I thought! ‘Black, soft, daily’, I repeated my preference again. The lady disappeared to find my love from the dark and deep drawers of her store. While she was gone, I glanced at the colours again and gingerly touched the orange one. It was so lovely! Feeling brave, I asked if I could look at that piece. ‘It is only available in a hard cover’, she informed. ‘What! I only buy soft’, I replied. She smiled. ‘Of course!’

To all the people, who are attached to routines, circumstances and things, please know that I have picked up a hardcover, orange, daily Moleskine! Ha! Dogmatic? Who me? Not at all! After all, Orange is the new black!

Orange is the New Black! (Source: Prionka Ray)

Interconnected Thoughts and Associations

Posted on October 26, 2016 by Prionka Ray

On my morning commute today, I saw a man walking by the road. Dressed in black and denim, his strides hinted at a certain impatience along with an accompanying confidence. Perhaps, he is both. Just like my dad was. And long after the man had moved away from my line of vision, my gaze stayed glazed. The image continued to stay with me and the essence of my dad lingered on. My mind meandered down the memory lane, skipping in a hurry to those precious years when my dad was still around.

How easily, a brief image, a sight, a sound or a fragrance can get so redolent with emotions! How effortlessly they guide us to thoughts and memories of somebody else, of something else! And it is not a rare occurrence. Everything is indeed in association with the other! Everything is relative or related. However much, we seclude ourselves or think of ourselves as one separate unique entity, we are not. Our identity and our very existence is in context. The smaller pencil is in context of the bigger one; the daughter is because there is a mother; the writing is here because there is a reader. And I thought of my dad because of the man?

Does that mean, I wouldn’t have remembered my dad without that man? Of course, I would have! But, then again, something else would have triggered my thought. There is always an allusion, an association or a comparison of juxtaposed thoughts, events or memories. One leads to another and then they all merge somewhere else altogether. It’s such a fluid world, where we are all a part of the whole, linked and intertwined with fluid thoughts of the others, merging to make a bigger picture, a bigger world, a bigger phenomenon. No thought remains just there. It continues to another place and another association, transcending time and geographical locations.

Now I let my thoughts pause, pause on these beautiful paintings that reflect my state of mind. One is by Mark Chadwick and it presents the fluidity of thoughts and the other, by Ingeborg Herckenrath. It shows connected people. These images may lead you to your own associations. I will leave you here to linger here or to move on…

fluid_portrait_3_by_mark_chadwick-d95s0iz

Fluid Portrait by Mark Chadwick. (Source: Deviant Art)

Connected People red by Ingeborg Herckenrath (Source: Saatchi Art)

Lessons in Humility

Posted on October 24, 2016 by Prionka Ray

Right before the Hindus celebrate the festival of lights, Diwali, here’s an endearing sight! This video, which is an initiative of Tamil Murasu, featured the MPs of Singapore, decked up in saris to wish the residents a happy Diwali. What a beautiful gesture, Singapore!!

And also happy to see my ex- neighbour, Mrs Josephine Teo in here. Those days, I was totally clueless as to who she was. My bad! We spoke about schools, kids and many other things. When we got talking about work, she informed quietly that she works in the ministry and in Finance. No unnecessary elaborations were provided. By the time I figured out that she’s Senior Minister of State, Prime Minister’s Office, Ministry of Foreign Affairs & Ministry of Transport, I was too embarrassed to let her know that I had goofed up. So, she remained, Josephine, who stayed in my estate briefly and I remained her clueless neighbour, Prionka. Dear MP, Josephine, you, as well as the other ministers that I have met so far, and found completely approachable, make me feel proud of this nation that I live in. On a personal note, lessons in humility learnt!

Finance Minister Heng

Prime Minister Lee, PM Lee with Minster Heng and Minister Wong at the SG 50 Appreciation Dinner

Minster Lawrence Wong

Acknowledging the Bitter

Posted on October 14, 2016 by Prionka Ray

I usually write about the inspiring, the positive and the bright. However, there is no inspiration that has not struggled first, no positive that has not been engulfed in chasms of negativity and no brightness that has not been swathed in dark at some point of time or the other. To ignore these negatives would be great injustice to the spirit of positive. It is imperative for the pain to be acknowledged before any healing can ever begin. So, here I present a conversation with a broken soul that acknowledges the dark, the dull and the low. It is the silent musing that is often felt by many and yet seldom aired. The conversation may be between two individuals, but it echoes the general melancholy of a generation that has waded through enough experiences, circumstances and hopelessness of the mundane.

A tinge of something bitter, that I have recognised in countless eyes and yet they deny its existence. Lots though, can be read between the lines…

Bitter

How bitter? said I

Very, she replied.

What’s missing, do you know?

Or is something missing at all?

It’s incomplete, she said.

And yet it’s heavy, dark and slow.

What’s the reason, tell me why?

No reason, she said, but there’s no pulse, no fire and no wings to fly.

Are we talking about you? I said in alarm!

She continued,

It sheds no tears. It doesn’t even cry…

It causes no ripples. It’s something curled up and dried.

Is it you? I asked again.

She stayed ominously silent,

Then she said, no, it’s my empty inside.

This poem is dedicated to all the struggles, the doubts and the lows that make any comeback a victory of human existence. And to those, who have felt this at any point of time, you are not alone. Reach out and seek help. Acknowledge to yourself, if not to others! It’s only in acceptances that the healing begins. And then let us know of the comebacks because these comebacks become inspirations to many!

Contact:

ingrouphelp@gmail.com/ rayprionka@gmail.com