Shaming the library worker

As an Instructor and Research Specialist at the library I work for, I have been shushed by customer before. I have a loud laugh and I was laughing loudly with some fellow loud laughers on the floor of the library. A man came up to us and reminded us that this was a library. Shh……We were duly chastised and left the area giggling like teenagers. I am not talking about that kind of shame in this blog.

I opened my email one day at work to find an email from a colleague saying a certain customer was enquiring after me since he has not seen me at the gym for a while. I fell off the wagon for a long while leading a sedentary life on my couch with a book in my hand. I did go for walks but not regularly. Life just seemed bleak and I lacked motivation to do much. When I read that email, I felt a twinge of annoyance and also laughed a little. I didn’t think much of it. I did see this customer at the gym when I frequented the place regularly. We always said hello. I introduced him to my husband and he introduced us to his wife. Then I stopped going and looks like he noticed my absence.

At the beginning of December, I went to the gym. The first step toward going is hard. I didn’t want to but the customer’s enquiry shamed me into it (kind of). I knew exercising is good for me and it was sheer laziness that was preventing me from doing more for my health. On the first day I did not see the customer. I was a little disappointed as I wanted him to know I came to the gym because he nudged me. On the second day, I saw him and waved from the elliptical machine. He came over with a big smile. “You came?” he said.

“Did you sign up for 12 days of fitness? You get a free t-shirt. You should sign up.”

Groan. What is that?

“Errrr, maybe.” I huffed and puffed.

Before leaving, I asked the trainer about it. He said we can work out for 12 days in the month of December and after 12 days we get a free t-shirt. The days of workout do not have to be consecutive. So I signed up. Not because of my health but I love free t-shirts. Once I signed up, I was committed. I am very goal oriented. Once I had a goal I knew I had to fulfill it. So I kept going back and I started seeing a difference in my energy and a tad difference in my body as well as mental health.

I got my free t-shirt.

Later in the month, I saw the customer at the library. I went to him and thanked him for shaming me into going to the gym. I have been going regularly and also got my t-shirt. He laughed and said that they missed us at the gym. Nobody knows me at the gym, so no one missed me. He is just a sweet person.

I have now made it my goal to go to the gym at least 12 days in a month. I have even printed out a calendar to put up on my refrigerator to check mark the days I go. A visual reminder, for me, is important for accountability and satisfaction.

Lastly, I will say this again – public libraries change lives. The catalyst for those changes may be librarians, library workers, or customers.

A post on kindness

I don’t remember a time when human beings were not intent on killing each other. My childhood was an era of oblivion, of course, but ever since I started paying attention to the wider world around me I read about cruelty meted out by human beings to other humans (and animals). Religion, borders, language, ethnicity – all become excuses to slaughter one another. But my post today is about the kindness that surrounds us too. Often, the acts of kindness do not make it to the mainstream media but if we look around us mindfully, we see it. There is this one poem that I listened to recently, read out by non other than the inimitable Helen Bonham Carter (I am a big fan). I must have listened to it more than a dozen times by now. It creates a warm feeling in my heart. The poem inspired me to write this post. Here is the poem:

Small Kindnesses

by Danusha Laméris

I’ve been thinking about the way, when you walk
down a crowded aisle, people pull in their legs
to let you by. Or how strangers still say “bless you”
when someone sneezes, a leftover
from the Bubonic plague. “Don’t die,” we are saying.
And sometimes, when you spill lemons
from your grocery bag, someone else will help you
pick them up. Mostly, we don’t want to harm each other.
We want to be handed our cup of coffee hot,
and to say thank you to the person handing it. To smile
at them and for them to smile back. For the waitress
to call us honey when she sets down the bowl of clam chowder,
and for the driver in the red pick-up truck to let us pass.
We have so little of each other, now. So far
from tribe and fire. Only these brief moments of exchange.
What if they are the true dwelling of the holy, these
fleeting temples we make together when we say, “Here,
have my seat,” “Go ahead—you first,” “I like your hat.”

— The New York Times (9/19/2019), Bonfire Opera

I want to write about the overpouring of kindness Gouri received from complete strangers thousands and thousands of miles away from her. Gouri came to work for my parents about 15 years ago. She had to heal first after she tried die by setting herself on fire. Married to a cruel man at the age of 14, she wanted to escape her fate by ending her life. She survived but with life altering scars all over her body and mind. Recently, the skin around her neck started contracting from the injuries, resulting in difficulty swallowing. We started looking for surgery to rectify that. But corrective surgery is expensive. I needed help to help her. After a lot of deliberation and discussions with my family, I decided to send out a plea for financial help in social media. I was tentative about my decision to ask for help though. Would people care or simply scroll through?

The response was overwhelming. I cried. Of course I cried. The kindness of my friends and acquaintances transcended every barrier – Distance from the affected woman, not knowing anything about her except for my words. Her need and her unfortunate circumstances were enough for them. I found empathy, not pity in their words. Friends from India wired money directly to Gouri’s bank account, friends in USA sent money to me which I then transferred. At work, my dearest friend handed me cash with tears in her eyes. “This could have been our daughters,” she said. This could have been. Those who could not help financially sent their best wishes for Gouri’s recovery. I asked Gouri if I could share her photo so everyone knew what the money was going to heal. She is very reticent about standing before a camera, but she took a selfie and sent it to me, saying, “Didi, I know you will only do what is best for me.” Her unwavering confidence in me warmed my heart.

The surgery took place a month and a half ago. While the surgery was not complicated, the recovery was long and painful. But Gouri is doing very well. She has to wear a collar around her neck for a year to prevent the skin from further contracting. The collar, she says, is uncomfortable in Kolkata’s heat but she wears it religiously to let her neck heal. She met with the doctor again to operate on the burn injury in her shoulders and arm. She can not straighten her arm due to the burns. And the money that complete strangers sent to her for her surgery will cover the second surgery as well. This will also take time and involve pain and long recovery. But Gouri is willing to go through with it all for a chance at better quality of life. The final surgery will, hopefully, be on her face to cover the scars from the burn but the doctor has not mentioned anything about that yet. He is focused on functionality over beauty at this point.

This morning, as I read about the deaths in newspaper, I honed in on the kindness.

Yesterday was a weird day.

Yesterday was a weird day. I hardly saw any of my family members. The partner is traveling, daughter was working and my eighteen year old son did an errand and then shut himself in his room for the rest of the day, and night. It is interesting how little I see of him even when he is home. I noticed this with Sahana before she headed out to college and I am noticing this with my youngest too. They let us know that it is time to loosen the grip, it is time to let go. I think of how their little hands fit in mine just a few years ago. I miss that touch but it makes me happy to see they are ready to take the flight.

I ditched going to the gym yesterday and cooked for the week instead. I even baked a cookie cake for no reason at all, because, why not?

I ordered biriyani from a local store. IT WAS NOT A GOOD IDEA. I was sick as a dog at night. I haven’t been that sick for a very long time. Before I got sick though, I spoke to my cousin sister for a very long time and realized how much I needed that conversation. So that was nice. And she offered to be my Piglet when I needed her. She read my previous blog.

This morning, though, the sun is shining. I am sitting in front of my parents (their photos). And I have this book on my lap.

On days, when I feel I have nothing to look forward to this book may provide some inspiration. I forget to focus on the little joys sometimes and require a reminder once in a while that even pouring cup of coffee in the morning can be a simple delight. A hot shower on a cold day. Sitting by the sun on my reading chair. The sunset that I get to witness everyday from my kitchen window. My dear friend, the lop sided oak tree in my back yard is full of buds. The cherry blossoms in my neighborhood are blooming their vibrant pink. The pink and white rhododendrons will appear soon to brighten the world briefly.

My daughter looks hopeful these days and my son can not wait to go to college.