parulsheth1

[parulsheth1]

Happy Birthday Arnav

After 10 days of silence, on his first call - his first question for us was, what happened while I was underground (in Vipassana)?

We updated him on the world events- the Donald Elon dude-vorce, the errant weather- absence of rain and some other domestic stuff like a new TV.  He told us that he was going for a gig after landing at 7 pm. We had lapsed into normalcy. Not much has changed. 

As I struggle for words to write this post to mark Arnav’s 27th birthday, Father’s Day and what would have been Ketu’s 56th birthday, I hunt for inspiration, looking up articles (no AI for me yet!) that have distilled the twenty-minute-long graduation speeches into 3 sentences.  From Jacinda Arden (my favourite person in the whole world!), actors like Jennifer Coolidge, to the fool Trump, pearls of wisdom were liberally strewn. 

And then my mind went back to another piece of history that was created whilst Arnav was out of the radio signal zone. 

The French open 2025. I watched both the finals after a very long time. And what a year I chose!

It was the first time since 2013, that the first and second seeds fought for the title, both, in the Men’s and Women’s final. The men’s final, at 5 hours and 29 minutes, was the longest French Open final in history (surpassing the 1982 final), and the second-longest major final overall, after the 2012 Australian Open final. (source: wikipedia) In the 3 setter women’s and the 5 setter men’s matches, most points went to deuce, and the final set into a tie break in the men's.  

After winning Coco Gauff shared her secret, “Last night, at dinner, on a small piece of paper, I had written a short sentence eight times: I will be the French Open 2025 champion!”

In the post match press conference, Carlos Alcaraz said, “I just believe all the time. I have never doubted myself. Even with those match points down, I thought just one point at a time. Just one point and then after one point and then try to save that game and keep believing. That’s what I thought.”

Arnav’s tennis career was limited to learning it at the club, thrice a week after school for a few of years, with the hapless Jaideep.

Arnav, with a bunch of his friends, was a ball boy at the ATP tournament at CCI in 2013/14 I think.

The boys were out all day in the heat for almost a week. Everything happened- they saw the stars up and close, they laughed, worked hard, grumbled and yes- fell sick. and the parents were exhausted with the pick ups!

The family was out in full support

For several years, we had a fun tennis-swim-breakfast routine on Sundays at the club with Sohel-Anshul. Ketu too, played tennis while at college. His racket from the dark ages was discovered in the storage. From the long awkward legs, that are always in the way, to rock music and “pretend golf”, an aptitude for business, a calm exterior despite a stormy interior, Arnav and Ketu are similar in more than a few way (iykyk).

Belief is irresistible.

Belief, as I have learnt, is everything.

In yourself, in your strength, in the goal.

That is the most powerful motivation.

With luck on your side, it is an unstoppable ride. 

Of course it is hard work. Like all hard work. Very hard.

This belief builds resilience and gives us the most powerful why. 

Arnav has been an adult for a while now. As Sanjana and I discussed, how much can Vipassana change Arnav, one who is already mature, and relatively calm. Sometimes, he can be a too hard on himself. But that is a balance that is hard to strike.  Most of us are still looking for it.

As always, Ketu remains a part of our lives, today and everyday.  

Amidst joy and struggle, we search for meaning.

Time passes. Irrespective. 

Like I learnt with life.

and I suppose, Arnav learnt at Vipassana.

Happy Birthday Arnav!!

and a fun video from a pre-iPhone time:

"In the end: Linking Park"

[parulsheth1]

Sanjana: Chapter 24

Post my strength workout in my garden this morning, I went deep into my usual 10 minute cool down-meditation. The morning sunlight opened my mind. I began to focus on my breath, and there was a flash, and sudden panic of panic I opened my eyes. It’s April! Sanjana’s birthday month! And that was the end of my session. Of course, I continued to sit for the remaining eight and a half minutes in padmasan, but I was now fully focused on this upcoming gala. Thankfully, my thoughts shifted very quickly from material objects (I am the world’s worst gift-giver!) to what I should write about (much easier). 

It has been a very special year for all of us. Staying together, 3 adults working from home most of the time, has been “interesting”.  For Sanjana and me, we shared our love for the language, through media and books. Snatches of discussion amidst shopping sprees in Colaba Causeway and the drives to and fro. I see the width of her repertoire, as we meander on the DN road pavement, digging deep in the narrow alleys of the stacks of books. Classics. Contemporary Fiction. Philosophy. Literature. Some to read, some to have and some to display. We bought them all. 

I read the books she read, the books she yearned to write. 

I read her writing, and learned new words (“panoptic” and “dialectic”), the kind that I wished I knew. 

For Sanjana and Arnav, I feel it has been a special time to connect as “slightly mature” adults. Sharing their various worlds - work, friends and happenings- some separate, some overlapping, as they seek each other’s counsel (and more) behind the white closed door. It is indeed wonderful to see them at peace (mostly), and not bickering. At least there is some merit in children growing up. 

Sanjana loves words- they are her work and her art. She writes them and speaks them with ease, delight and aplomb. The conversations she writes about are alive, sprinkled with moments and stories, that catch you by surprise with their acuity. The happenings that she observes in her blog, mostly personal, are honest, brimming with life.  The descriptions are vivid, and written in a bombastic way! 

It is interesting to watch her navigating life as a young adult, on her own terms, mostly gracefully, with the occasional stumbles. As a mother, I am doing my best to keep my mouth shut! 

In her 24th year, the world is waiting for her with open arms. 

Use your time well. 

Choose how you spend it. 

Be ruthless in prioritizing yourself.

The steps we take today, knowingly or unknowingly, are the ones that will lead us to the roads of tomorrow. Yes, this is also your time to wander along unknown trails. So have fun.  Enjoy the adventures. Life will certainly never always be easy. Dance. Tumble. Skip. Trip. Run (I would love it if you did!). Keep it interesting!

For the Sheths it is a lovely time. To have the children here. At home. Adulting. 

And Sanjana is ready to fly, yet again. 

Stay healthy. Work hard.

[parulsheth1]

The Kumbh Mela (and more)

Having been surrounded by the hype about the auspiciousness of this particular Kumbh- “once in 144 years” and bombarded by media about its level of organisation and infrastructure, I must admit that my curiosity was piqued. Not a Hindu pilgrim from any angle, visiting the Kumbh was never on my agenda. 

Post the week-long Yoga retreat, I learnt that Sejal, Ivory and Daniel were headed to “the méla”. They managed to convince me to jump onto their bus. 24 hours later, I was on a flight headed to Prayagraj. What a ride it has been!

The traffic jam, tangled mess- of bikes, cars and people, and crowds- unimaginable. 

The “rooms” were less than basic, and the food, was palatable if I did not look at the make-shift kitchen with a mud floor, behind the stained curtain. 

Day 1:

As we walked past the hundreds of tents built on the bed of the seasonally receded river, I understood what it meant to be in a refugee camp. I became one with the thousands of pilgrims who were headed towards the Sangam, as I walked along the 1.5km pontoon (temporary) bridge over the Ganges.

Our Lunch break: This couple having driven down from Haryana planned to spend a month at the Kumbh. After spending 5 days they saw an opportunity in setting up shop selling basic rajma chawal, coke and water under the scorching sun on the Main Street, where the only option for lunch are the “Bhandars” - camps offering free lunch for all. We spent a relaxing hour on a 30-rupee “Reese’s” metal foil sheet in the shade of their car. Soda, fruits, and shade. What more could we ask for? 

After spending the first morning under the scorching sun, post 3pm, we finally discovered where the “main action” was. ‘Purana Akhada’ was where the ancient Sadhus has set up camp. With their sacredness and histrionics, it was the most visited akhada of the mela. In our pursuit to reach the main “Triveni Sangam” we wandered for the rest of the day, being refused entry on all the bridges to reach it, until we crossed the Yamuna via bridge 16, which, instead, took us into the city. After an epic 50-min bike ride, we stumbled home, exhausted and starved. The apple watch said that we had walked over 15 miles that day! 

We had written off visiting the main Sangam, as the next day, Basant Panchami, was a day of “Shahi Snan” and it was rumoured that all boats would be closed. We would leave the Kumbh Mela without this iconic location. 

The colours at the Kumbh. Vibrancy is India. In spirit, ceremony and wares. Every moment was a sensory overload. Yes. I am a tourist in my own country. This is a magical land, so different than anything else that I’ve seen before. 

This little girl, watching her parents haggle, as Sejal and Daniel negotiated for their gifts. Her bright smile was infectious. And this old man who made us the best tandoori rotis I’ve ever had - for dinner at our camp.

Day 2:

At  9am after hearing my travails of the previous day, after a few furious phone calls, the manager of the hotel, Abhishek, whispers to me, he had managed to get us a special boat, with police permissions to visit the Sangam for Rs. 2000 a head. Wow! What is Rs. 2000 we thought? We need to take that dip! Promptly, the 3 of us, tagged along with him towards the Arail Ghat from where we would take our boat. (Narendra Modi would follow the same route a couple of days later). Upon arrival, it became a joke. Boats were freely available and all and sundry were being rowed to the Sangam. And what a scam! We had been warned of the wily UPites, and we fell for it. I do blame the rest of my crew for this! 

the 2 boatmen and Abhishek- the scamster!

Another epic day, ended by eating our tandoori rotis and cauliflower vegetable at our camp.

And we were off to Banaras.

Day 3:

It was an arduous 5 hour journey involving 4 modes of transport, a car, an e-rickshaw, a cycle rickshaw, finally our 2 feet. We climbed the giant stone steps of the ghats to reach the Ganpati Guest set on the absolutely spectacular Dasheshawmadh Ghat, Banaras. 

Our street of was packed with people, who were lined up to visit the Kashi Vishwanath temple. The snaking lines spread across the neighbourhood. It could have been anywhere upto a 3/4 hour wait for them. What faith makes us do. Tremendous.

The sea of Devotion

Day 4:

4.30 am: walk towards Assi  Ghat to watch the aarti, which eventually began at 5.40 am. 

7 am: Raag Bhairav

8.10 am: Masala chai and Malai on toast

9 am: Buying papads, purportedly these varieties were made only in winter. 

9.20 am: Eating the local street breakfast, aloo kachori and chana

9.45 am: followed by dessert: Malaiyyo: Milk foam with saffron, pistachio and elaichi. 

10 am: Our day was done ;-)

We wandered back towards our room through the various ghats.  

The cremation ghat, the tulsi ghat and many others. It was a wonderful place to people watch.

~

As a sadhu asked, “Darshan ke liye aaye ho, ki pradarshan ke liye?” (Have you come for blessings or the spectacle?) 

Do we do things for ourselves or for the gram?

Fantastic trip- -everything that I imagined the Kumbh and Banaras would be- and a whole lot more...

The day ended with a special Banarasi thali meal at Brijrama- a super fancy place 5 min walk from us. Such a special end to a special trip.

[parulsheth1]

First lesson of 2025: Ephemerality

An easy run on my birthday.

Ran late. Ran with me. 

In my new outfit- looking like a birthday girl and feeling it too!

I had bought a matching sea green vest and dramatic pleated shorts for my race in Valencia- that I didn’t wear as a set- as the vest was a tad too warm to run a marathon it- but together, the combination looks spectacular (!!)- so this morning it became by “birthday frock!”

At exactly 7.25 am, as I approached the Marine Drive flyover, the sun was just above the buildings- a red glowing ball resplendent against the light blue, slightly hazy sky. And my first thought was, “I wish I had my phone so that I could take a photo!” And almost immediately, chided myself, “Just enjoy this moment. Relish its simplicity, feel the joy, make it your own.”  

By then 3 km were done and I was in good rhythm. The rest of the run was just me composing photographs in my head, capturing the visual of infinite sea- from the low angle of the Marine Drive parapet towards NCPA, framing Malabar hill skyline- with its new skyscrapers, through the Parsi gate, and simultaneously writing this post.  

^^^^^^

There is a new catchphrase – “making memories” that is flying around, supposedly encapsulated by the photos that we take. Selfies, group photos, videos, reels doing some silly actions et al.

^^^^^^

This morning was just me on the road. With my thoughts.

No photos.

Yes, in all likelihood, I will not remember this particular sunrise in its full glory. It will merge with the many other sunrises that I have seen, and the others, yet to come. But the special feeling it gave me today, the pause that I experienced at the moment, when I felt a flutter in my heart will always remain. It will linger through the day and make me smile. 

Memories will fade, the joy of the moments will remain, banked in our hearts over time, strengthening it. 

Details will become fuzzy, but filled in imaginatively at each retelling, and each recall. 

It is the fullness, the satisfaction of a beautiful moment that pervades.

Not quite sure what the word for this is. The opposite of ennui methinks- but not quite joie de vivre (it feels a bit fluffy!)

The fleeting nature of moments. The fleeting nature of life.

It was a lovely day indeed…

[parulsheth1]

The house that travels/Some days

As I look around the house and think about how much has changed over the last 30 years—not much. The wall colour is slightly dark- the beige that is in vogue now, and the red sari that mummy had embroidered that dominated the living room, has now gone.

Some additions…

The Turkish coasters that tell a story- Sanjana bought 6- then I bought more of the same ones. (replacing mummy’s fancy mother-of-pearl ones) 

The art – a poster showing Sanjana’s love for ballet from Paris, and mine for Shakespeare’s plays from Stratford upon Avon. 

The framed post cards, sent to each other, with colourful stamps, from far flung places -Bruges, Zurich, Nice, Sikkim. 

Travel cheap, see more. Our motto. 

Paris. London. Boston. Estonia. We are, indeed, lucky to have spent extended amounts of time experiencing life abroad. The food, the people, the sightseeing, random wanderings and insightful musings. New experiences have a mnemonic quality – they create a more lasting imprint in the brain. We saw how places and people endured, rich with tradition but continually adapting.

Ketu was a big fan of travel. Egypt. Syria. Saudi Arabia. His work took him extensively to the middle east. And whilst studying for his MBA in Scranton, he used every opportunity to visit new places and watch live rock shows. Amongst others, his favourite was immortailsed in a CD- Paul Simon’s, “Concert in the Park”.   He visited Vegas, Vail, Aspen, Niagara, Florida and maybe I few others that I don’t know about!

The three of us travel together. And separately. And in twos. All these combinations have their unique learnings and experiences. 

Now, after a few years, we are all back together. Under one roof. It has its challenges and its joys. 

I had begun writing post this a few days ago. 

The last 2 days however, have been, well, tumultuous. With my children, with others and some more others!Adding to that, the Sunday began badly - my 24km run aborted to 22km. 

So I don’t quite know how to conclude this post. Yesterday was quite a “blah” day. I was not feeling my best.

Parulben says, “Don’t remind the children if they don’t remember. It is a normal day.”

I say, “How can we forget him?”

Both true. 

We are living with multiple realities. That is my learning.  

Some days are like that- and we just have to live through them. Mind funk has a mind of its own. It could linger, or it can leave in an instant. He will decide when. Until then…I trudge along. 

From my collection of quotes: “Moira, moros, aisa: Share of life and luck”. We all have our own. 

We can love life, live it, savour it, suffer it, waste it or even hate it. 

The choice is always ours. 

[parulsheth1]

Most things change, thank god for those that don’t

For 15th June 2024

As I drive to the airport to pick Arnav this afternoon, serendipitously, the song “Tu hi re”, from the movie “Bombay” played on the radio. This was Ketu’s favourite song and my mind, in a tizzy, just flashed back!

As I drove over the sea link whizzing past the collage of glass fronted, sea facing  skyscrapers,  I wondered, what would Ketu have thought of this new world, this new world with social media and all this virtual stuff, evolving ever so rapidly over the last 5 years, in particular. 

Bombay has been transformed beyond everyone’s imagination, with fancy SUVs zipping over the clover leaf exits going north and south,  one arm above the other, linking the coastal road at various points. The Metro, the subway, the works, incredible! 

It’s a whole new world and we are all trying to cope. 

Of course, being the forward thinker that Ketu was, he would have easily embraced the tech side. Being open minded even accepted the new, morphed, extremely fluid social order. 

But I’m not sure what he’d have thought about this new cricket format(T20) and the changed F1 rules. 

And I’m sure as a family we would have seen a Grand Prix for one of the birthdays. Monaco methinks. He would never settle for less. 

And he could spot winners from a mile. 

Infosys, which is a huge chunk of our portfolio, became his favourite company way back in 1995 when they had barely setup their Bangalore campus. 

AR Rahman, his favourite musician, when he had made his debut and his early films. 

Yesterday, Ketu would have turned 55. He would have stood taller- with his heart filled with pride seeing both his children shine. I see him fully supporting them to follow their dreams. 

Yesterday Arnav turned 26. (I kept thinking 25, but was promptly corrected- yikes- how did he become so old…and how old does that make me?)

Arnav is more like Ketu than I could ever imagine (in many many ways…!).  

With his business brain  and entrepreneurial spirit, sharp analytical mind and a flair for numbers. 

With his preference for printed shirts, and spending his birthday with his friends over his family and his passion for live music shows. 

His calm persona (from the outside) and the softie (sometimes fiery) from within. 

Arnav- who had now grown up so much that he has quit his second job and hopes to start up on his own and “Do a dhandha” he says, would have been seed funded by the risk loving father. 

As for Sanjana- I’m sure he would have enjoyed discussing world politics and all her radical ideas. He would have encouraged her to follow her heart, be brave, believe in herself and apply to the best universities in the world to study political science. 

Thank god for music and movies that never change, keeping our memories sacred.

Comfortably numb

Desert rose 

Godfather 

Raybans

“Tu hi re, tu hi re tere bina mai kaise jiyu Aaja re aaja re yu hi tadpa naa too mujhko Jan re jan re inn sanso mein bas jaa too Chand re chand re aaja dil ki jamin pe too”

                                                ~ Tere bina, from the movie “Bombay”

[parulsheth1]

Always and Forever

As I browsed through my 8 Sep posts from over the years, I smiled as I read last year’s which ended with “Run, Run, Run!” Literally :-))

This year, it my heart fills  with pride as I stand on the sidelines and observe the 2 children “adulting”. As I continue with my normal life-  unnecessarily complicating my life with work, workouts and ridiculous goals, they have taken on life by the horns and are going at it fearlessly, charting their own path. 

Arnav is applying to grad school, figuring out all the complexities of the documentation himself, and Sanjana has plunged into working in the social sector at the absolute grass root level (very far from Paris, I daresay!). So very proud of both of them. It is indeed a real pleasure (most of the time) to watch these two navigate their life. And I reiterate my belief here, that Ketu, Papa and Mummy would have been extremely proud of both of them!

Beginning my journey in the second half of my life, I am properly adulting now (haha!!)- with the home renovation, creating and establishing my identity, having to take “BIG life decisions” by myself and moving into the “mother-in-law’s” room. It has indeed been very difficult for me to move by just these few feet into a “new room” and see a different view from my study table.  As I try and figure which storage system will work best for my wardrobes, my heart keeps going back to the comfort of my old walk-in closet (which Sanjana has now inherited – and ironically she’s struggling to organize that!)

Change is emotionally challenging, as I doubt myself constantly- wondering if the old system was better in the kitchen, doubting how efficiently the new electronic door lock will work, apprehensive about the new blinds and their fancy technology, reluctant to change the sofas and the like. 

After a lot of heartache and many a sleepless night, I realized, accepting change takes time. We were all used to the old ways of the past 25 years, so it will take us all a little while to establish new routines, and get used to the refrigerator being relocated inside the kitchen!

Change is difficult until we settle with the “new normal”.

Change is a must, change is inevitable. 

It has taken us close to 20 years (8 Sep 2003- 8 Sep 2023) to accept and embrace our life without Ketu. 

With each passing year we let go of the pain a little and find more reasons to smile.

With each passing year we forget some old stories and create new memories.

With each passing year we lose some friends, redefine old relationships, and understand ourselves better.   

With each passing year we make new friends, have new experiences and learn to look at the world in a new way. 

With each passing year we grow older, one day closer to death.

But we will never forget.

Ketu will always be with us. 

A part of our story, our person, our identity, our memory, in our hearts. 

Always. 

“Nobody knows where you are

How near or how far

Shine on, you Crazy Diamond.”

                        ~ Pink Floyd (Shine On You Crazy Diamond, Wish You Were Here)

[parulsheth1]

From King Arthur to AI

“The old order changeth, yielding place to new”

~ Morte d'Arthur, by Alfred Lord Tennyson

This was from a poem that I had learnt in 10th grade- and the universality and timelessness of this reality astounds me. In this current time, I feel it is more relevant than ever. The world rules are crumbling faster than new ones are created. It is a complicated decade. The refrain we hear all around is, “no one knows”.

Navigating one’s life today, is fraught with more uncertainty than ever before. All sorts of messages are bombarded and anyone (everyone) with an Instagram account is a philosopher. And as a mother, I of course think, that it is my duty to tell my kids what they need to do and not do (I would like to believe that it may appear that they are not listening- but secretly they are!). 

The one thing that life certainly is, is confusing. There is really no way of knowing what you should do with it. 

As (my) life has taught me – circumstances have a mind of their own- call it destiny or situations or choices. That is extrinsic to your being. So irrespective of where the world is, where it is headed, which sea it tosses you in, we can make choices. I can only control me, my reaction or rather my response.

The important thing is to show up - in summer, in rain, during a storm, when you’re tired and your shoes hurt, even when you don’t feel like it. 

Showing up is the first step. The only step that you control.

Show up and stand.  Be present. In today.

The only step that creates possibility. 

Amongst the other adages we hear around us, in the chatter of graduation day speeches….my favourite ones are:

Find happiness in small things. Small joys. Everyday. 

Make big choices early and often.

Surround yourself with good people  who encourage you and you can learn from. Your people impact your state of mind, impact the way you work and play, and impact every other relationship that you have. (this is another important one)

Work hard, be kind to yourself first and then others (thank you Sanjana, for teaching me kindness. You have always been wise, and I’ve learnt a lot from you.)

In many ways this post a reminder for Arnav, who has jumped right into the world and its myriad paths, who has taken on new challenges and emerged stronger with each passing year. You have shown an extraordinary propensity for hard work, clarity of thought and the ability to take risks, fueled by courage for your big dreams.

But I’ve actually written this is for Sanjana – the new Graduate. 

We are all very proud of you Sanjana. 

You have been bold, ambitious and a bit crazy (Paris! ++). Hold onto your wonderful self and fly high, bloom and fill the world with your special Joy and Light. 

For both of you:

Be prepared, you have good times and unpredictable tides ahead... Life is about to unfold for you in all its forms. Love, heartache, accomplishments, disappointment, testing of faith... it’s all a part of life, it makes life - Life! 

Life is beautiful, so buckle up and smile. 

We love each other. We will always have each other. We are safe together. And that is our strength. 

ps: Always do your own checkout!

[parulsheth1]

Death-from both sides

Ketu, Masa and Ruchir

Never thought the three of them would be together, as stars looking down upon us, sipping their drinks whilst watching and guiding us, with possible bemusement!

“The longest-lived and those who will die soonest lose the same thing. The present is all that they can give up, since that is all you have, and what you do not have, you cannot lose.”

~          Marcus Aurelius

That people just go away and ‘never come back’ should not surprise any of us as it is the natural course of life. But we get so caught up  and attached to our “Self” and the body and the connections we build over our lifetime- with children, family and friends, that we lose perspective. 

We forget. 

We forget our own mortality. 

And the mortality of those we love.

Everyone has to go, and we will too, in our own time. We celebrate the lives of those that have gone, and they happiness that they gave us with their presence. We are grateful for the life we have today, because of their lives. Yes, it is easier to expound wisdom when someone else is at the epicentre. But as a bystander, as a friend or a family member, it is an opportunity to observe and learn, to understand the true nature of death through the lens of science, philosophy and/or religion.  

We need to form our own framework for surviving loss. Of what it will take to cope. Only when we see death up close we understand the true nature of reality, of pain, of grief and mourning. Accepting the inevitability of my own death and the passing on of those whom we love mitigates the fear and pain. It does not mean that we love them less.

I do not believe in “Whatever happens, happens for the best”. 

For me it is, “We make the best of what we have - and more”.

We need to embrace our mortality and live with life-expanding presence. 

Be more conscious of transience. 

Be grateful for the air we breathe and the life we live every day, thankful for the road that I run on and the smiles that I encounter along the way, but always try to be half-conscious that one day this light of consciousness will be extinguished.

As I prepare for Project Gold, I am grateful for the people that are in my life and those who were once there and aren’t anymore, but illuminated it so that I could see the path to find myself and have the courage to stand up and walk tall, who, by example, showed me how to live, and with their vitality, gave me the opportunity and strength to grow. 

Death is really about us. 

Those who survive it. 

Time.

That’s it.

Time and Action. 

After so many years, I can finally say, this day is just another day in my life when I chose to write a post about my thoughts and Ketu. Last year I was traveling and this year I am packing my bags to Run Run Run!

:-)

[parulsheth1]

The not-so-little Shahs

The absolutely felicitious Rhea and the tech genius Aadit

As is a well-established fact, the first born is all important- and hence this post to wish both of them a very happy birthday on Rhea’s!

Seeing these two grow up with Arnav and Sanjana has been a real delight.

All the pairings: 

A and R

R and S

S and A

And of course, the bitcoin and sports crazy A and A.

Rhea has been a bundle of Joy from the start. She was easy breezy, slept well and was this cuddly child. Growing up, an honours student and so so talented with her art and writing. A loving child, she has made such meaningful cards for most of us. (But I could tell the years when she scribbled a happy birthday card for me in 30 mins…even then it was pretty!)

As I told Sandeep, Rhea has inherited her good traits from me (and our side) and the others…well…Sandeep is responsible! For me she is my daughter with her science, writing and art. Of course, now that she is doing her scary math degree, she is next level!!

Aadit! Hmmm! I don’t think Aadit and I have ever really had a conversation. It’s mostly one way…me asking annoying questions and he smiling and responding politely in monosyllables. Of course Rima will blame it on me greeting him with a “roar” when I saw him for the first time in the hospital, but I was just preparing him for this world!!

Watching Aadit getting through his growing pains, I told Rima, it took us 3 kids to get the fourth one right. Dedicated and talented in sports, hardworking with his studying and a Youtuber before he turned an adult!! Now this is a Kid!

About Birthdays

Their annual birthday parties could not have been more disparate. Rhea’s were fun (cooking, art, quiz etc.) and her friends were easy…Aadit’s…well, on a lot of them I was travelling and had missed them, but the ones that I attended and emceed, were well, a bit traumatic for me! Shrikantbhai always laughed at my loud voice at these parties and I did manage to put my foot in my mouth during the photos and videos!

Here is wishing Rhea,

A very, very happy 22nd birthday!

May you smile evermore,

Find joy in the work that you do

Even if it seems like a bore when you do it-

There will be a rainbow at the end.

And Aadit,

Here is a special wish for you

Soon you will be eligible to vote,

Keep innovating,

Keep doing,

Success only comes to those who DO.

[parulsheth1]

The Sheths: Part 3: HBD A and S

Combining both the birthdays as they are my 2 favourite people in the whole world (in reality, I was traipsing around the mountains before Sanjana’s birthday and had put no thought into it!) As is Sanjana’s (and most second born kids) upbringing, is that… well… they grow up. It seems parental attention is rationed-once we shower it on the first born, the second one gets the remaining.

:-) 

This year I analysed the process of gifting. For me, I realized that I have always wanted to give something special to my kids, which means a lot to me and as much to them, in our own ways. It is so easy to say I cannot think of anything and give cash, but this year I was determined to make it special and buy something. I gave it a lot of thought, research (Google is my first resource- Gifts for “Millenials”, best gift for young adults, gifting your teenager…) to find The Gift that has significance in our lives.

My gift speaks about me and about them.

It expresses my love.

It shows that I care enough to spend all this time and energy agonizing over the perfect one, material or otherwise.  

And I managed…Coffee, a terranium and dessert for my Food connoisseur, with maybe an ethical shirt thrown in and vegan/cruelty free/locally sourced beauty products for my Madame! I think have I cracked it….these kids are about buzz words. Gifting subscriptions/experience/ ethical…

Another birthday for both in this Lockdown.

And another year with all of us being at home- together.

For a few years now, I have been celebrating Arnav and Sanjana’s birthdays as if “this would be their last one with me for a while.” And, much to my joy, they have both been with me on their big days.

Sanjana turned 20.

To think that neither of my kids are teenagers anymore!! (What does that make me??)

This Lockdown has been wonderful for me.

Spending a week with her in Landour, watching her from afar- she is indeed an adult. I see it, understand it. Let her be in her own space. She knows exactly what she wants to do…of course I may not agree- and she could be wrong. But that is not for me to say.

Arnav turns 23.

With each passing year, increasingly, I feel that I should step back, and watch him navigate his life. I am learning a lot, new ways of doing things, and engage with people. Of course, it infuriates me a lot of times to see him “not do” what I think should be done, and more importantly, the way, that I think it should be done. But I have learnt to keep my mouth shut and usually succeeded, except in some extreme cases... (it has not been pretty!)

If COVID had not happened??

Arnav would be working from Bangalore and Sanjana studying from Delhi.

And the incessant cooking in this house would stop,

And the numerous Amazon deliveries would not happen!

Life would be less thrilling and rather monotonous. Quiet.

Now, the house is buzzing with excitement. Great conversations.

Sanjana

Loving and responsible,

A fiercely independent girl.

When Sanjana was away, her calls were infrequent, but when she did there was a lot of enthusiasm. Of course, I “could” never call. And every once in a while, I would need to remind here that I existed and she would apologise profusely, be responsive and then…back to normal! But that’s how we all are ;-)

I love that she is so involved in so much (including all her friends!!) And that she takes initiative on campus.

We bond over jewelry, street shopping and bad hair days!

Be it here or there, I have accepted that we live in separate time zones, me IST and her, GMT!

I love that she asks me questions about what I do and why I do what I do! (It makes me think)

She has a lot of my traits, yes, I see them, I wince and acknowledge how “wonderful” we both would be, especially for our mothers!

She is unafraid to speak her mind, and has a lot of clarity of thought along with the agility of moulding them as she lives and learns.

Her presence fills the space and her smile illuminates, even a phone call, with joy.

Arnav

A man of fine mettle.

He is making his own choices.

My experience, when he was with his last job, living in Singapore/Vietnam for several days, was that he was very particular about staying in touch.

Conversations would be brief, but regular.

Photos shared, happenings discussed.

He cooked. Ate healthy (most of the time).

Travelled around. Experienced local life.

Had mishaps. Most small and amusing (bought all ingredient to make pasta, except salt!) and a few – big (reaching Bombay airport for a flight to Vietnam with my passport instead of his own!).

He smiles a lot. Complains occasionally, if at all.

Is usually gentle, but can sometimes lose control. And then it is not pleasant (like all of us).

He has a good head on his shoulders, with a wonderful bunch of friends.

Back to birthdays, Sanjana’s being around school holiday time was wonderful, and we have celebrated a lot of her birthdays on vacation. Arnav’s parties, being around the back-to-school time, the monsoon, football season, were easy to plan. We have had some really memorable ones.

As they say, it takes a village to bring up a child.

We are lucky to have had all your support over all these years.

From my parents, Rima, Nikita, Rahul, Aparna, Amish, and so many others, who have been a strong shoulder for me, when I struggled with my decisions about my children.

ps. I have been a tardy “birthday-gift-giver” so this year I intend to make up for all the years lost. 

pps. I love this picture, taken in 2018 in Carmel, California. 

[parulsheth1]

The Sheths...continued

Part 1: Death

As the size of our immediate family dwindles and is halved, I learn.

With my first loss, I lost all sense of security and my world fell apart. I pieced it all back together over a long, long time, as I looked for my self, rebuilt my  strength, created new boundaries and a questionable framework, which was at best, just about workable, at worst a non-existent, never-ending abyss.

When Papa went, we were prepared and ready to let him go. He had done all the work for us, and the transition was almost seamless. And I reiterate, I have never seen a man like him, a meticulous planner, who had created perfect systems for everything and everyone, including having left a detailed docket for us, to be executed when he was no more.

We followed the same script when it came to taking the difficult decisions after Mummy fell and became unconscious. “Papa had always said” became our refrain, our guiding light. He taught us everything, all of which remained with us, even after he was gone.

In her twilight years she was like the summer breeze. Like a light wind that moves the delicate branches with its willowy leaves, that makes the long-stemmed marigolds sway upon its insistence. Like a gentle wisp, that you did not really notice, but only sometimes, felt it’s comforting cool, it’s refreshing motion, the delicious softness that it brought, and yet, when it was gone, you would notice.

                  Taken 2 days before she fell, on 26th April, Sanjana’s birthday.

She was someone who filled the house with her omnipresence, as she her spent her days in the living room during the Pandemic. Occasionally, when we passed by, she asked us banal questions about where we were going or about food. Nothing personal. Nothing probing.

She was here.

Everyday.

The sound of her walker, as she walked to the sofa and back to her room, was a part of our daily sounds. 9.45 am. 1 pm. 5.30 pm. 8 pm.  8.45 pm. Then the blasted “Caravan” played until 11pm.

We blinked and she was gone.

Why do you miss a person who is not really a part of your routine?

The Absence of Presence. The Silence of Mundanity.

Part 2: Life

And I pick up the pieces, yet again.

With Mummy gone, I look at the days ahead and realise that the desire for security and the feeling of insecurity are the same thing. To hold your breath is to lose your breath. The more I crave attachment and safety, the more stand to lose. I need to fortify myself, not by becoming an unfeeling rock, but by being a jazz piece, where one thing leads to another, without any idea of exactly where it will lead. Embedded in jazz are clues to escape and strength. Jazz defies expectations of discipline and comfort, but the music is beautiful, with rhythm and a crazy sense of order. Like an improvisation, where things always don’t seem to go together, but eventually it all kind-of fits.

In the aftermath of loss, I do what I’ve always done.

I do what I can, as well as I can.

Learn to live with Love and Loss. Live with Hope and memory.

Part 3: Today

One month without her has passed.

Thoughts that I feel reflect reality for me today. These that bring to light that what I need to contemplate. To learn more about.

“The solidarity of bodies, unity at the center of the mortal and suffering flesh. This is what we are and nothing else.”

                                                                              ~       Camus

This resonates with the philosophy of Jainism, as it brings to life the concept of the Soul. I become conscious that a large part of why the western philosophy that I have been reading until now appeals to me, is because of the language and logic that it is presented with.

I have started reading the English explanation of “Atmasiddhi Shastra”.  

http://www.shrimad.com/Atmasiddhi.html

Principles to live by: Sahajta, Saralta, Shraddha

This is not a dress rehearsal, today is the only guarantee you get.

[parulsheth1]

The Sheths

Ohmigod, look at this cute scarf…and these sunglasses! WOW!

Exclamation, exuberance and wonder filled the room as we looked through “Mummy’s” (Surekhaben, the mother in law) stuff. Exquisite trinkets that told stories of her travels to exotic foreign lands…oh yes, she was an intrepid traveller. Hand-painted artwork with matching wooden bowls from Peru, a delicately embroidered purse from Japan, a small, gold-plated intricately carved antique silver frieze from Ladakh, innumerable crystal pieces, Lladro, Svarowski, Waterford, Bulgarian, Austrian and the like, some collected with love and others, gifted to her. This exclusive collection was her pride. And if she was gifted something which did not make the cut (and this has happened to me several times!), she would take it politely and consign it to the dark depths of her many cupboards, never to be seen again!!

Sifting through this treasure brought to life the vibrance of the life Papa and Mummy had led…the stylish photographs from a cruise in Alaska, fashionable group pictures with their “hip” friends, the sassy pictures from their childhood, and the stunning landscapes from their various sojourns across the globe; Europe with Raj travels (for a “Pratishtha” in London), Hongkong (and god knows where else) with Nirumasi, Vail with Ketu, regular weekend treks with their gang in Lonavala, Matheran, several trips with Surabhi masi and then of course, annual trips with all their grandchildren.

A life well lived.

These are the lives we celebrate.

Of Papa and Mummy.

Stories from old times flew around.

Vinodbhai, and his chutzpah to live well!

Let me begin with his passion for quality from fruits, where appearance was important, size (of course!) and colour, for mangoes in particular, they had to be the biggest, to the quality of paper for his letterheads (beautiful thick alabaster paper with simple gold lettering). This desire for excellence had made him the market leader for the fabrics which they produced.

The food at his parties would be from the “best caterer” and the menu would be lavish. Going out for a meal with Vinodbhai would be a grand affair where how would order more, never “over order” but it always felt like “a lot”. An often repeated story by all who went out with him: After a full meal he would ask on the table, what dessert shall we order? The polite response would be no, no, we have eaten too much... and as if he hadn’t heard this, he would go on to promptly order enough dessert for all to share, which would be polished off!

That was Papa, showing his warmth with food, humour and abundance.

His sense of fairness, practicality and honesty made him much sought after by all, for advice on family as well as work matters.

His ability to create lifelong friends, with strong bonds giving support, stability and comfort, some of which have lasted after him, was a legacy carried on by Ketu.

And his big heart, which had enough and more for everyone-from his family to his staff, to anyone who extended their hand towards him for help. He gave generously, and anonymously to hospitals, medical schools, various organizations and all. His philanthropy was truly altruistic.

His faith in Agas Ashram was wholehearted. This spirituality and understanding of values was his strength. He gave to the Ashram with his tan, man and dhan, with his full devotion.

Staying with him, I learned how to give.

Surekhaben, and her passion for élan, classy and one-of-a-kind stuff.

The Saris, sourced directly from weavers, were exclusive and of course, expensive. She would order 5 of each kind, (One for herself, 2 for her daughters and the potential daughter–in–law(ahem), and more often than not, one for Surabhi masi, or gifting(!!) Bandhanis, Patolas, Chanderis, Ashavalis, Paithanis…! I have heard tales of sari vendors coming to our house to sell their wares, the most famous one being the legendary Umeshbhai.

And her Diamonds, of the highest quality first, and size mattered too, but the shine and sparkle were more important. Her jewellery was like her- dignified, dainty, and classic.

She was into “aesthetic” before it became a thing!!

Staying with her, I learned about the “good stuff”. Flowers, curios, appearance, entertaining, and all with panache.

Ketu, and his affluent yet non-pretentious life-style.

That was just he was brought up. As a rich kid! Ketu was a spoilt brat, spoilt by “Baa”- who was given everything and more. Yes, we found evidence- a photograph that showed that he had an electric toothbrush wayyyy back in 1982. I mean, who had even heard of it then???

His love for music was expressed in a big grand way, with a massive collection of CDs, definitively curated over time. He chose to do his post-graduation in Scranton so that he could travel to New York for every music concert, from those in Central Park to the big ones in Madison Square Garden. Not to be forgotten was his music equipment, from Bose speakers, to an amp and a pre-amp (is that even a real thing?) and even a “CD washer”(!!). These gadgets occupied a place of pride in our room (a LOT of place!).

His signature style in clothes, jeans and khakhis with a classic Polo shirt, Tshirt and his full sleeved striped sweatshirts, all branded, was simple.

Ketu lived by his beliefs and followed his dreams. Loyalty was paramount to him.

Staying with him, I learned to to be true and how discover my passion.

These are the remarkable people whom I have spent most of my adult life with.

The Sheths.

Of course, things were not always rosy, but I have smiled more than shed tears.

That is all that counts.                                                         

It’s been a wonderful life.

I am grateful for my memories.

‘Life is made up of moments, small pieces of glittering mica in a long stretch of gray cement. It would be wonderful if they came to us unsummoned, but particularly in lives as busy as the ones most of us lead now, that won’t happen. We have to teach ourselves how to make room for them, to love them, and to live, really live.’

                                                                                         ~ Quindlen

[parulsheth1]

What I think about when I don’t think about running

2020: The Reset year

When Sanjana asked me, just before she left for her New Year’s Eve party, “Mom, what is your New Year resolution?” I scrambled for a reply. I had no goals, no races, nothing in my head. And up popped my favourite word, “I want to become stronger”. Rolling her eyes comes her pat reply, “But you are already so strong”. Having an epiphany, I said, “My strength training will make me stronger physically and the philosophy that I am learning will make me stronger mentally”.

This is my year to do serious strength training and less running.

This is my year to learn about philosophers and philosophy (moral, political and existential)

This my journey now.

To create a life that I am content living and to retain my individuality.

1.     Find my Self and my Voice.

2.     Make it heard.

3.     Validate and solidify my beliefs (with examination) and have the courage to stand by them. Plato talks at the end of the Theatetus: “Knowledge is only knowledge when it is a justified and true belief in something.”

4.     When I am my own person I will have discover my strength, which can be a source for others, and make me stand up tall.

5.     Emanating strength is an important component of building healthy relationships with mutual respect. We support one another.

6.     Be firm but gentle.

2021: A year to Consolidate

Over the last decade, I have learned to appreciate the textures and rhythms of the year. But no other year has lidded life more ominously, as the staggering collective grief we are living through together in this densified black fog.

I think often of this verse from Jane Hirshfield’s splendid poem “The Weighing”:

     So few grains of happiness

     measured against all the dark

     and still the scales balance.

ps: Thank you Nanditaben for the title.

[parulsheth1]

Happy 50th Anniversary

“It was the best of times, it was the worst of times, it was the age of wisdom, it was the age of foolishness, it was the epoch of belief, it was the epoch of incredulity, it was the season of Light, it was the season of Darkness, it was the spring of hope, it was the winter of despair, we had everything before us, we had nothing before us….”

Classic opening lines from Charles’ Dickens’ “A tale of two cities”, written in 1859 about the French revolution, it could well be the tale of our time.

On a run this morning, the zoom call was buzzing in my head. Such a wonderful 90 minutes, when we expressed our feelings about the people we were closest to, whom we had spent our lives with and taken for granted, people who we thought we knew so well, but learnt something new when someone else spoke about them. It was really heartwarming. Fuzzy. 

Like a scene from a Karan Johar film.

And when Sonal shared this screenshot, looking at each smiling face, I remembered something that Ketu had said, a lifetime ago, it in the context of his friends, “Our group will see everything. Death. Divorce. Bankruptcy. Something will happen to all of us.”

This is our family. One blood line.

Discord.

Disease.

Death.

Divorce.

We have seen all this and more.

Through our individual journeys some have strayed, but managed to come around and regroup, and others have remained together and been there for each other. This call meant different things to each of us. What came through was the love and the bond of all these years. Some of us are less expressive than others, but that does not mean that we feel less. We are less eloquent, and slightly inhibited. We accept all with their flaws. As Sonal pointed out to me, when we shift our focus to people’s positive attributes, the energy shifts towards warmth.  This zoom call was celebrating goodness.

Personally, I was really touched seeing Ketu in Sejal’s movie. When I saw Marty in the last song it was really sweet and made me realise, they are a part of the narrative too. Those who were there, and are not anymore, like those who will come our way and become a part of it. 

This is something that I had read along time ago…it worked for me then and it works now for all of us, as a family.

“You’re a patchwork soul, made of all the people who came, who left, who stayed, those who made you laugh, and those who made you weep, and in the end you’re not the palette made of the stroke of a single colour, you’re a painting made by a frenzied artist on the edge of his canvas splashed out into the very corners of all that you are, will be, and have been.”

Well, thrilled to be a part of this crazy smorgasbord of people. 

We don't choose our family, we inherit it. 

So here is to looking at more celebrations, more politics, more discussions, more trips, more drama and more love. 

Very grateful to all our parents for giving us all that they have, so that we could become the people that we are destined to become. 

Cheers! 

[parulsheth1]

The year of Magical Thinking

I have been more than eloquent about my feelings of having my kids back with me since Lockdown. My favourite line, “I worked so hard to send them away, but now they are back!!” and we have had more than our fair share of altercations.

Parul-Sanjana fights. Parul-Arnav arguments. Arnav- Sanjana squabbles Parul-Arnav- Sanjana debates, discussions and wars. Who should sit and work from which room. What should be cooked. And who is doing it. But most importantly how!! Who is doing what errand and when. Some meals were had in stony silence as we had nothing to say to each other.

Amongst all this, our dinner table conversations invariably meandered to current affairs. So much was happening in the world and both of them had very strong opinions on them. I had limited knowledge about this, as I discovered very quickly. I am not a politically aware person. I like to live in my little bubble and was satisfied with my level of awareness (or apathy!) of being able to hold an intelligent(?) conversation about “this political stuff” with my friends.

I got an education on several fronts.

Narendra Modi and his divisive politics (I started following Faye D’souza and several others on Instagram- where do you get your news from, they questioned me)

Trump and his Trumpism (too much to summarise here!)

The new wokeness sweeping the world on Feminism (Radical feminism vs Liberal Feminism- how can you even think like this?)

The need for the rise of inclusivity in society and the exigency for new linguistic rules to enable that. (from a class that Sanjana is taking at Ashoka, which I too attend, surreptitiously)

After a lot of resistance, I have reluctantly opened my mind to new ways of thinking- and the possibility that the beliefs that I have formed and held onto, which shape my person and my ideology need to evolve (not just be tweaked- in some instances, uprooted and expunged) with the new information that is now available to me- through my conversations with the kids, increased time to read editorials, the philosophy podcast, and more time to reflect and contemplate these new concepts.

2020: A recent editorial named 2020: The year of being afraid

Rightly so. An unknown virus which we knew nothing about, pushed us out of our comfort zone, forced us to examine our relationship with time, introspect and create a new way of living.

For me, 2020: The year of Magical Thinking

This is the title of the book by a New York times journalist, Joan Didion, which I just finished reading. It was recommended to me by Sanjana. Like all the other books that are on my bedside. The Great Gatsby. Catcher on the Rye. And Breakfast at Tiffany’s. These have all been a part of her curriculum over the past couple of years and I am happy to share these books and the joy and feelings with her.

With Arnav’s new job and his new business, I see the fire of youth to work hard (their own definition of hard work- sprawled on the sofa with multiple screens), the drive to create something and the willingness to get your hands dirty while building a new idea, ground up.

It is inspiring to be around their energy, of a 19-year old liberal arts student, with an independent mind and a bold voice and a 22-year old entrepreneur, which has now lived and worked in the “real world”, with fire in his belly, ready to be on his own. (Of course, I do get singed often, with the sparks flying around).

After being on their own for the past year, Sanjana at Ashoka and Arnav travelling with Zilingo all-over south-east Asia, they have both come of age. And had life gone on “as normal” she would have continued her education living on campus, and he would have been elsewhere for most part.

On a long run this morning, in a moment of epiphany, watching the pink and purple sky, it dawned on me that I am lucky that life turned out the way it did and I got to spend this year with my children, when I “grew up”, became my own person (work is in progress) and examined my belief system (more like shocked).  By the time the sun was a blazing golden ball, I realised that this is a bonus year for me, with them. A gift from the world, for me to be with my adult children.

Indeed, my year of Magical Thinking.

“Light the lamps that still can be lit, forget your perfect offering, There is a crack, a crack in everything, that is how light gets in.”

                                                                                               ~ Leonard Cohen

Wish you all a very happy Diwali and a Wonderful new year.

[parulsheth1]

The Flow of Impermanence

Its Sunday 6th September, 4pm, as I sit to write this piece. As I look for words I realise what a strange time this has been. Lockdown. Pandemic. Unnatural word. Unreal times. Yet, it is what it is. I had had a similar surreal feeling. On the morning of 8th September, 5.30 am, when I returned from the hospital. Alone. To a deathly calm house.

It’s a quiet Sunday. Calm. Noiseless. Filled with things I like to do. Chose to do. Read the papers. Some TV. Read my political philosophy course.

Over time, I have created my new normal. Like we are doing today. Feeling our way around, slowly, testing the water, pushing, pulling back and finding our balance. New normal. What an oxymoron. This is just life. For a change, we are all in this crisis at a global level. Like a war, I would think.

Like before, I question my need to write this commemorative piece. Do I need to? No. Do I want to? Yes. Why? Every year I have a new reply to that same question.

I have come to understand that forgotten moments are the price of our continued participation in life, a force indifferent to time. Left alone in time, memories harden into summaries. The originals become almost irretrievable.

Occasionally, a memory retains its stark original reality.

Like the morning of 8th September, 5.30 am, when I returned from the hospital. Alone. To a deathly calm house, when I was compelled to play life’s wild card. I understand now — it wasn’t the beginning or the end of anything. It was simply a continuum. The thought that moments are beginnings or endings, is illusory. Quoting Manguso, an American poet and author, “History doesn’t begin or end, just continues.”

Someday I might rediscover some of the moments that I’ve forgotten (seeing old photographs, triggered by some music or such), moments that I’ve allowed myself to forget, that my brain was designed to forget, that I’ll be glad to have forgotten, but glad to rediscover as I write. The experience is no longer an experience. It is writing, just me- writing- and I can put it to rest.

The stability of time is inherent to continuity.

Thank you all for being my unchanging constants in this world of constant changes.

when we went to see Yanni perform at the Taj, 1997

8.30 am, 8th September

I am just back from my speed run at Priyadarshini Park with Russa.

I sit to complete this post, on this new setup (created by Sanjana) in this new Locked-down world.

The thing about speed is, it draws you into the moment. Everything is amplified. I can hear my heart beating. Feel the heavy breath. In the rests, the world around you becomes saturated. The sky is bluer, the birds chirping fill the air, I can tell the difference in the way the breeze changes every few minutes- from still to balmy to a soft soothing one.

Speed work just bares my feelings- and boom- they are in my face. I am forced to face them (they are usually hidden under mundanity).

Yes, I miss Ketu. I think of him sometimes. Less now than before. And I do wonder how life would have been. But it is hard to imagine that now.

The world has changed. We have changed.

Maybe this is a new way of measuring life - not by its constant changes but by its unchanging constants.