We're children, needing other children

I grew up in a cultural context where it was believed that if one chanted mantras, well, good things will happen.  For quite a few years, I believed in that approach--after all, I was only a kid, who was being brainwashed into a certain way of thinking.

And then one day, the question arose within: If the mantras have that effect, then we should be able to bring about peace and prosperity in no time at all.  Of course, there are mantras for peace and prosperity.  There are mantras that when chanted rain should pour.   When the intended effects did not happen, the answer was always ready and waiting--the chanter was not qualified enough.

In the modern, secular, world, people chant mantras of different sorts believing that those will deliver happiness.  Epic failures.  But, such practices continue on.

The app I eventually chose messaged me every hour or so with a positive affirmation that I was supposed to repeat to myself over and over. “I am beautiful,” or “I am enough.”

Mantras!  Instead of some "holy" man teaching one the mantra, now an app coded by some stranger teaches one to recite the mantra.

I wish people would be confident like me, and go around proudly proclaiming that I am ugly. I am bald. I am an idiot.  I tell ya, these are immensely confidence-boosting because they are honest to the core!

Ok, sarcasm aside, people have always struggled to be at peace and be happy.  Some might want to explain this as the inevitable result of the original sin.  Others might preach for a path towards nirvana that will deliver us from these existential struggles.  I wish people would understand that what we are going through is not all that different from what our ancestors went through.  Once we recognize it, well, only after that can we begin to understand that chanting mantras won't help.

But while placing more and more emphasis on seeking happiness within, Americans in general are spending less and less time actually connecting with other people.

Increasingly around the world too.

There is a difference between happiness that is within, versus a belief that happiness comes from within.  Happiness that is within refers to the intangibles that make us truly happy, as opposed to the tangible stuff that we accumulate.  The intangibles, it turns out, are dependent on people.

if there is one point on which virtually every piece of research into the nature and causes of human happiness agrees, it is this: our happiness depends on other people.Study after study shows that good social relationships are the strongest, most consistent predictor there is of a happy life, even going so far as to call them a “necessary condition for happiness,” meaning that humans can’t actually be happy without them. This is a finding that cuts across race, age, gender, income and social class so overwhelmingly that it dwarfs any other factor.

To recap, this is what most people seem to be doing: Buy a whole bunch of stuff, travel as tourists without gaining any understanding, and waste a whole lot of time by themselves either watching TV or on social media.  To make things worse, they hang out with the wrong kind of people.  And then they wonder what they can do make themselves happy!

So, what can one do?  First, stop chanting any mantra--religious or secular.   Then, 

The most significant thing we can do for our well-being is not to “find ourselves” or “go within.” It’s to invest as much time and effort as we can into nurturing the relationships we have with the people in our lives.

As simple as that.  All you need is a few good people around you to be happy.  Just a few.  And then happiness gushes from within. 

Life is never, ever, about the ratatouille

"Because this is evening, I suppose I should ask for tickets to the Dinner Box" I said as my friend bought the tickets to The Lunchbox.

I imagine I will be punning awful groaners even when on my death bed.  "If I am dying when sitting on a recliner, why is it my death bed?" will be the kind of horrendous jokes I would tell as I exit.

Whether it is the bed or the chair, and as long as I am conscious, and as long as the neurons keep firing, I know what will fill my mind--the warm memories of experiences with people.  As Roberto observed during the day tour that in Costa Rica, "when you are lying nearing your death, you cannot take your car or house or clothes.  You have only your memories with you when dying."

Memories.  Especially of people who cared for me.  People with whom I broke that proverbial bread. The people who fed me.  With anybody who is close to me, there is always at least one unique and special food memory, even if that person couldn't care about food.

Thinking about food and the people who fed me is not anything new in this blog.  Because I blog about food, and because of the growing collection of food-related photos on my Facebook page, some, mistakenly, conclude that I am a foodaholic. Yes, it is about food. But, it is more than merely being about food. It is all about memories.  Not memories of the taste of the rasgolla or the vadai or the erisheri, but about the life that it was all about. About the people.

There is a wonderful saying in the old country, உப்பிட்டவரை உள்ளளவும் நினை.  In its literal meaning, well, we need to remember forever those who fed us salt.  But, of course, it is not really about the salt itself. It is about the people who provided the food that we eat in order to sustain ourselves, and that food becomes palatable only with the appropriate amount of salt.  But then it is not even about the salt nor the food itself--it is yet another statement on what it means to be human.

The Lunchbox is a movie that is not really about the lunch. Nor is is about the "dabbawallahs" whose highly efficient and reliable system was studied by a professor at the prestigious Harvard Business School.  The Lunchbox is about the human condition.  Men and women trying to make sense of their existence.

We create and share experiences through food. As we get older, we even relive experiences through food. Like Anton Ego and his ratatouille, we too realize that a cheesecake is more than a mere cheesecake.

People who need people are ... the most interesting people?

She gave me a big smile and waved me towards her checkout counter.

Even before I said hi, words came pouring out of her. "I have been thinking about you and your blog after the other day."

She knows about my blog not because I told her about it.  I don't have enough time to even joke around! The commenter-extraordinaire at this blog was in town for two days and one of the places I knew I had to take him was the grocery store where I almost always shop.  Such is my life--people come to visit with me from the other side of this planet and I have serious plans to take them to the grocery store!

It was not for the groceries.  No ma'am!  I hoped that at least one of the people I had written about, and he had read about, would be there.

He shook her hand that "other day" and said that he had read about her and the store.

I then told her about how I blog, sometimes about people too, but mostly without using the names.

In that conversation, I told her that Eugene has some really interesting people, which makes it all the more easy to blog about.  "I think every place has interesting people" she said then, to which I replied that Eugene seemed to have more than its share.

So, she remembered all that, and the way the words came flowing, it seemed like she was waiting for me to show up.

"You know how you find people fascinating?  I came across a website called "Humans of New York" and I thought I should tell you about it."  Of course, I made a mental note of that site.

She then continued to engage me in a conversation, all the while smiling.  "I think that with your interest in humanity you will find interesting people wherever you go."

That is true, indeed.  Whether it is Tanzania, or India, or Ecuador, or Costa Rica, or even Los Angeles, I have always interacted with, or observed, interesting people and blogged about them too.

"I agree" I told her.

But, then, after all, I am the joking kind.  So, of course, I added "hey, I am not going to argue with a former bodybuilder who can punch the daylights out of me" and I laughed.

She, too, laughed.  "You are small and I can take you on" she said.

I took a step away from the counter in mock fear.

"Mu husband is also small built like you, and I married him because I know I can beat him up."

"Oh, what does he do?"

I thought maybe he is also a bodybuilder and owns a gym.  I was in for a surprise.

"He is a stand-up comic."

That I would not have guessed.

"Oh boy, is he in trouble if he doesn't have jokes for you ... you can beat him up."

She laughed. "Yes, he better be funny."

She put a smile on my face too as I walked towards the car.

We are all interesting people.