  Action/Adventure
This week: My Friend Amruta, the Adventurer Edited by: THANKful Sonali LOVES DAD  
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Amruta and I met at a poetry evening in 2013.
We've since become 'besties' - something I'm quite proud of, because I respect and admire her enormously. She's a fiercely loyal friend who has one of the most supportive shoulders I've ever leaned on.
But when I think of a word to describe her, the first word that pops to mind is 'adventurous'. She has taken life as a challenge and an adventure, and a few hours with her leave me rejuvenated.
Hence, this newsletter -- the adventurer I know and love, in her own words. |
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Dear Reader,
Here she is, my friend Amruta, on The Adventure that is Life …
On recovery and discovery
After almost twenty years of having lived pretty much on my own terms – a workaholic, a natural leader and a passionate rebel, my core systematically came crashing for nine years after I had turned thirty in 2000.. My self-esteem, confidence and focus were at an all-time low, almost non-existent. Yes, I had become the ‘every married girl story’. It didn’t make sense because it really doesn’t need to be that way for any girl or woman. But you know what? I am glad that I did go through what I did and when I did, for it opened my eyes to the fact that only I had destroyed myself. I had chosen to succumb to circumstances that lead to the complete mummificationof my living self. I had chosen to ignore that my place in every equation is equal.
My greatest adventure from the time I turned a corner then has been and will continue to be, me. Rekindling the affair with myself was exhilarating – whether it was hunting for a counselor, sharing fears with a complete stranger, accepting that I needed to be on anti-anxiety and anti-depressants till I got a hold of myself, joining salsa and belly-dancing classes or trying out things I had never done before, like writing and moving cities for the very first time at forty. Recreating the old-new me set the stage for a number of adventures.
On becoming a writer
It all began in September 2009 with my counselor suggesting that I try writing. For a person who at best wrote out grocery lists, serious writing seemed rather far-fetched. But, I was on a mission and lo and behold, the words tumbled out of my brain and sat snugly on my computer. My friends thought they would look good in a book. Maybe it was out of vanity but I’d like to believe that it was out of desire to learn something new – the first book saw the light of day in 2013. Right from editing to applying for the ISBN number to type-setting to font selection to lay-out to printing to marketing – I had entered the world of publishing.
2013-14 marked the beginning of an entirely new chapter for me, as a poet and a host for a monthly poetry event at Bengaluru’s coveted book store and event space. My first book saw its release in Mumbai, Pune and Bengaluru. My stint with the poetry evenings is now in its fifth year and I have reveled in each one of them. I am on the organising committee of the city’s prestigious poetry festival. It’s been ecstatic to say the least. In 2016 I found a job as a writer at one of the sought-after online platforms. My stint lasted just five months. In June that year, I lost my job as quickly as I had found it. It shook me, definitely. A woman who had finally laid her hands on a source that made her financially independent was thrown out of gear with no prior notice. Overnight, I had no income and nothing to do.
On getting a tattoo, or two
I was rediscovering myself, remember? In May 2010 I fulfilled my five-year-long wish. I got inked. I walked into a well-known tattoo parlor in Bandra (Mumbai, India) and declared that I wanted two tattoos. I will never forget the stunned look on the tattoo artist’s face. ‘Ma’am two tattoos at one go?’
After going through four picture albums, I zeroed down on what and where. That ‘grrrrrr’ sound of the needle was like music to my ears. No one in my family and none of my friends knew what I was up to. That evening I walked in through the door of the apartment and declared, ‘I got two tattoos’ and didn’t bother about the reactions.
On moving
How I moved to Bengaluru was an adventure in itself.
This was the June of 2010. My close college buddy had decided to move to her house in Bengaluru. She had no help setting up, resettling her girls into school, moving boxes and all that which comes with moving lock, stock and barrel.
My children and I accompanied the moving party – and, while helping them, I knew I had found a new home for my family and myself!
On our return return to Mumbai. I started planning the challenging pitch.How does one approach the subject of moving to a city that ‘seemingly’ had nothing to offer us besides its salubrious weather?
In about two weeks my husband (aged 43) and I were on a plane to Bengaluru. He was completely bowled over. I (for the very first time in my married life), had initiated a decision for my family. We moved to Bengaluru in August, 2010.
This city is now namma Ooru (our very own home) to all of us. While my husband continues to work out of Mumbai, we as individuals and as a family have found our groove.
On becoming a designer of jewellery
In August, out of sheer boredom, I dismantled all the neckpieces I had that were made of beads. I started stringing them in my own patterns and colour combinations.Then came long hours of Youtube videos and a rising interest in how to make jewellery.That September I ordered my first set of raw material online and that was how my jewellery brand was born. I am now self-employed and am able to pay for groceries, bills and salaries for most parts of the year and have a little left to reinvest in the business.
On role models
Every single person, including myself has affected me. All most everyone I know closely and everything I’ve done (whether positive or detrimental) has contributed to my kitty of learning and thus my perspective. While just a handful of people and events related to them have had a forceful negative impact – they helped me change adversity into an opportunity. I am grateful to all: the good, the bad, the ugly.
On wearing multiple hats
I am a daughter, sister, wife, mother and a friend. My circle is large and keeps expanding. While the labels of each role are different, every relationship is based on common principles – that of sharing and contributing positively to enriching the life of everyone involved. What changes with each role is the language and manner in which one conducts oneself.
On the biggest risk she’s ever taken
It has to be the move to Bengaluru. I had two young children dependent on me. I had decided to uproot them from their cushy lives in Mumbai and throw them into an alien environment.They had to give up their home, doting grandparents and relatives, friends and school, all of which they held dear.
Yes, like always, teething problems seemed endless and challenging. While my children adjusted to school rather easily, they constantly missed their buddies and cousins in Mumbai. Talking to them through their low points and making them see the positives of the move got increasingly tough in the initial years. Yes, they had moved to a larger house, had a garden, even fulfilled their dream of adopting doggies—but why couldn’t they have all of this in Mumbai? I struggled with that question for almost two years.
It all turned around in our third year in Bengaluru. My older son began pursuing hockey passionately and is now a state-level player having represented at the school, state and national level. My younger son pursues athletics – he too represents his school — has bagged overall championship cups and proudly lifts them up with each victory. Both my children are keenly involved in all the literary events and jewellery exhibitions I’m a part of. They volunteer for the literature and poetry festivals in the city, pack and unpack jewellery and keep a track of the accounts for my company. Having their doggy brothers has taught them how to interpret non-verbal communication, compassion and the fact that they too are responsible for another living being.
Just like mine, their experiences are adding to their kitty of learning and knowledge.
On the next generation of adventurers
I am an excited mother. My children often wonder what makes them reaching puberty or lifting a trophy, sitting at a registration desk, working backstage, taking girls out is so thrilling for me! They wonder whether I am truly their ‘mom’ or some freak who doesn’t know how to behave like one. I mean which mom wants to throw a party because her kids reached puberty and entered the first exciting phase of their lives?
Our best moments for us are before retiring for the day – the three of us huddle in a room and chat, crack jokes and play music. We share and exchange notes on studying and how horrible it is, playing and how thoroughly satisfying it is, first crushes and dating, making money and everything a sixteen and fourteen-year- old can think of.
To know that the children have their own adventure coming up is cause for a celebration!
Editor's note:
Above, you read excerpts from an online interview with Amruta, the parts I felt most fitted the theme 'the adventure that is life'.
But Amruta is also a thinker ... and has shared much more in the actual interview, which you can read here  "My Friend Amruta"
Thank you, Amruta, for everything, and thanks, dear reader, for reading this far!
- Sonali
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Thank you Christopher Roy Denton  for the response to "Culture and Adventure (Part #2)"
Did you ever read Fanny Parks' "Wanderings in Search of the Picturesque"?
https://archive.org/details/wanderingsofpilg01parluoft
And thanks to The bald writer  for the response to "April Fool! The un-funny joke"
I have a similar story but in reverse. To begin, my birthday is April 1. I was 6 about to turn 7 when we moved into a new neighborhood. TO make my transition easier, My mother told me I could have a birthday party at the new apartment. I didn't know anybody. I was new. So I went around the complex and invited kids that looked my age. "I am having a birthday party will you come" I would ask. No, I was constantly told. You're just doing an April fool joke. So I would ask someone else. And again, and again. The day of my birthday my mother had a cake and other birthday items. I was sure no one was going to show. Then came a knock at the door. "Are you really having a party. I just came to check". He came in. Then another knock. another another. I am not sure how we fit all those people in a small two bedroom apartment. The result: after a dangerously overcrowded apartment, basketball game in my bedroom, (my brother's crib was the basket and a broken window was that it was the last birthday party my mother ever agreed to. Well worth it. |
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Action/Adventure: June 20, 2018 Issue [#8960]
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