The Fringe Benefits of Failure, and the Importance of Imagination!!

A superb piece that was forwarded to me by a friend... it is JK Rowling's commencement address at the annual meeting of the Harvard Alumni Association... 

It carries a message... superbly composed. Am printing it here in full for those who would like to read.

 

J.K. Rowling, author of the best-selling Harry Potter book series, delivers her Commencement Address, "The Fringe Benefits of Failure, and the Importance of Imagination," at the Annual Meeting of the Harvard Alumni Association.

President Faust, members of the Harvard Corporation and the Board of Overseers, members of the faculty, proud parents, and, above all, graduates.

The first thing I would like to say is 'thank you.' Not only has Harvard given me an extraordinary honour, but the weeks of fear and nausea I've experienced at the thought of giving this commencement address have made me lose weight. A win-win situation! Now all I have to do is take deep breaths, squint at the red banners and fool myself into believing I am at the world's best-educated Harry Potter convention.

Delivering a commencement address is a great responsibility; or so I thought until I cast my mind back to my own graduation. The commencement speaker that day was the distinguished British philosopher Baroness Mary Warnock. Reflecting on her speech has helped me enormously in writing this one, because it turns out that I can't remember a single word she said. This liberating discovery enables me to proceed without any fear that I might inadvertently influence you to abandon promising careers in business, law or politics for the giddy delights of becoming a gay wizard.

You see? If all you remember in years to come is the 'gay wizard' joke, I've still come out ahead of Baroness Mary Warnock. Achievable goals: the first step towards personal improvement.

Actually, I have wracked my mind and heart for what I ought to say to you today. I have asked myself what I wish I had known at my own graduation, and what important lessons I have learned in the 21 years that has expired between that day and this.

I have come up with two answers. On this wonderful day when we are gathered together to celebrate your academic success, I have decided to talk to you about the benefits of failure. And as you stand on the threshold of what is sometimes called 'real life', I want to extol the crucial importance of imagination.
These might seem quixotic or paradoxical choices, but please bear with me.

Looking back at the 21-year-old that I was at graduation, is a slightly uncomfortable experience for the 42-year-old that she has become. Half my lifetime ago, I was striking an uneasy balance between the ambition I had for myself, and what those closest to me expected of me.

I was convinced that the only thing I wanted to do, ever, was to write novels. However, my parents, both of whom came from impoverished backgrounds and neither of whom had been to college, took the view that my overactive imagination was an amusing personal quirk that could never pay a mortgage, or secure a pension. They had hoped that I would take a vocational degree; I wanted to study English Literature. A compromise was reached that in retrospect satisfied nobody, and I went up to study Modern Languages. Hardly had my parents' car rounded the corner at the end of the road than I ditched German and scuttled off down the Classics corridor.

I cannot remember telling my parents that I was studying Classics; they might well have found out for the first time on graduation day. Of all subjects on this planet, I think they would have been hard put to name one less useful than Greek mythology when it came to securing the keys to an executive bathroom.

I would like to make it clear, in parenthesis, that I do not blame my parents for their point of view. There is an expiry date on blaming your parents for steering you in the wrong direction; the moment you are old enough to take the wheel, responsibility lies with you. What is more, I cannot criticise my parents for hoping that I would never experience poverty. They had been poor themselves, and I have since been poor, and I quite agree with them that it is not an ennobling experience. Poverty entails fear, and stress, and sometimes depression; it means a thousand petty humiliations and hardships. Climbing out of poverty by your own efforts, that is indeed something on which to pride yourself, but poverty itself is romanticised only by fools.

What I feared most for myself at your age was not poverty, but failure.

At your age, in spite of a distinct lack of motivation at university, where I had spent far too long in the coffee bar writing stories, and far too little time at lectures, I had a knack for passing examinations, and that, for years, had been the measure of success in my life and that of my peers.

I am not dull enough to suppose that because you are young, gifted and well-educated, you have never known hardship or heartbreak. Talent and intelligence never yet inoculated anyone against the caprice of the Fates, and I do not for a moment suppose that everyone here has enjoyed an existence of unruffled privilege and contentment.

However, the fact that you are graduating from Harvard suggests that you are not very well-acquainted with failure. You might be driven by a fear of failure quite as much as a desire for success. Indeed, your conception of failure might not be too far from the average person's idea of success, so high have you already flown academically.

Ultimately, we all have to decide for ourselves what constitutes failure, but the world is quite eager to give you a set of criteria if you let it. So I think it fair to say that by any conventional measure, a mere seven years after my graduation day, I had failed on an epic scale. An exceptionally short-lived marriage had imploded, and I was jobless, a lone parent, and as poor as it is possible to be in modern Britain, without being homeless. The fears my parents had had for me, and that I had had for myself, had both come to pass, and by every usual standard, I was the biggest failure I knew.

Now, I am not going to stand here and tell you that failure is fun. That period of my life was a dark one, and I had no idea that there was going to be what the press has since represented as a kind of fairy tale resolution. I had no idea how far the tunnel extended, and for a long time, any light at the end of it was a hope rather than a reality.

So why do I talk about the benefits of failure? Simply because failure meant a stripping away of the inessential. I stopped pretending to myself that I was anything other than what I was, and began to direct all my energy into finishing the only work that mattered to me. Had I really succeeded at anything else, I might never have found the determination to succeed in the one arena I believed I truly belonged. I was set free, because my greatest fear had already been realised, and I was still alive, and I still had a daughter whom I adored, and I had an old typewriter and a big idea. And so rock bottom became the solid foundation on which I rebuilt my life.

You might never fail on the scale I did, but some failure in life is inevitable. It is impossible to live without failing at something, unless you live so cautiously that you might as well not have lived at all - in which case, you fail by default.

Failure gave me an inner security that I had never attained by passing examinations. Failure taught me things about myself that I could have learned no other way. I discovered that I had a strong will, and more discipline than I had suspected; I also found out that I had friends whose value was truly above rubies.

The knowledge that you have emerged wiser and stronger from setbacks means that you are, ever after, secure in your ability to survive. You will never truly know yourself, or the strength of your relationships, until both have been tested by adversity. Such knowledge is a true gift, for all that it is painfully won, and it has been worth more to me than any qualification I ever earned.

Given a time machine or a Time Turner, I would tell my 21-year-old self that personal happiness lies in knowing that life is not a check-list of acquisition or achievement. Your qualifications, your CV, are not your life, though you will meet many people of my age and older who confuse the two. Life is difficult, and complicated, and beyond anyone's total control, and the humility to know that will enable you to survive its vicissitudes.

You might think that I chose my second theme, the importance of imagination, because of the part it played in rebuilding my life, but that is not wholly so. Though I will defend the value of bedtime stories to my last gasp, I have learned to value imagination in a much broader sense. Imagination is not only the uniquely human capacity to envision that which is not, and therefore the fount of all invention and innovation. In its arguably most transformative and revelatory capacity, it is the power that enables us to empathise with humans whose experiences we have never shared.

One of the greatest formative experiences of my life preceded Harry Potter, though it informed much of what I subsequently wrote in those books. This revelation came in the form of one of my earliest day jobs. Though I was sloping off to write stories during my lunch hours, I paid the rent in my early 20s by working in the research department at Amnesty International's headquarters in London.

There in my little office I read hastily scribbled letters smuggled out of totalitarian regimes by men and women who were risking imprisonment to inform the outside world of what was happening to them. I saw photographs of those who had disappeared without trace, sent to Amnesty by their desperate families and friends. I read the testimony of torture victims and saw pictures of their injuries. I opened handwritten, eye-witness accounts of summary trials and executions, of kidnappings and rapes.

Many of my co-workers were ex-political prisoners, people who had been displaced from their homes, or fled into exile, because they had the temerity to think independently of their government. Visitors to our office included those who had come to give information, or to try and find out what had happened to those they had been forced to leave behind.

I shall never forget the African torture victim, a young man no older than I was at the time, who had become mentally ill after all he had endured in his homeland. He trembled uncontrollably as he spoke into a video camera about the brutality inflicted upon him. He was a foot taller than I was, and seemed as fragile as a child. I was given the job of escorting him to the Underground Station afterwards, and this man whose life had been shattered by cruelty took my hand with exquisite courtesy, and wished me future happiness.

And as long as I live I shall remember walking along an empty corridor and suddenly hearing, from behind a closed door, a scream of pain and horror such as I have never heard since. The door opened, and the researcher poked out her head and told me to run and make a hot drink for the young man sitting with her. She had just given him the news that in retaliation for his own outspokenness against his country's regime, his mother had been seized and executed.

Every day of my working week in my early 20s I was reminded how incredibly fortunate I was, to live in a country with a democratically elected government, where legal representation and a public trial were the rights of everyone.

Every day, I saw more evidence about the evils humankind will inflict on their fellow humans, to gain or maintain power. I began to have nightmares, literal nightmares, about some of the things I saw, heard and read.

And yet I also learned more about human goodness at Amnesty International than I had ever known before.
Amnesty mobilises thousands of people who have never been tortured or imprisoned for their beliefs to act on behalf of those who have. The power of human empathy, leading to collective action, saves lives, and frees prisoners. Ordinary people, whose personal well-being and security are assured, join together in huge numbers to save people they do not know, and will never meet. My small participation in that process was one of the most humbling and inspiring experiences of my life.

Unlike any other creature on this planet, humans can learn and understand, without having experienced. They can think themselves into other people's minds, imagine themselves into other people's places.

Of course, this is a power, like my brand of fictional magic, that is morally neutral. One might use such an ability to manipulate, or control, just as much as to understand or sympathise.

And many prefer not to exercise their imaginations at all. They choose to remain comfortably within the bounds of their own experience, never troubling to wonder how it would feel to have been born other than they are. They can refuse to hear screams or to peer inside cages; they can close their minds and hearts to any suffering that does not touch them personally; they can refuse to know.

I might be tempted to envy people who can live that way, except that I do not think they have any fewer nightmares than I do. Choosing to live in narrow spaces can lead to a form of mental agoraphobia, and that brings its own terrors. I think the wilfully unimaginative see more monsters. They are often more afraid.

What is more, those who choose not to empathise may enable real monsters. For without ever committing an act of outright evil ourselves, we collude with it, through our own apathy.

One of the many things I learned at the end of that Classics corridor down which I ventured at the age of 18, in search of something I could not then define, was this, written by the Greek author Plutarch: What we achieve inwardly will change outer reality.

That is an astonishing statement and yet proven a thousand times every day of our lives. It expresses, in part, our inescapable connection with the outside world, the fact that we touch other people's lives simply by existing.

But how much more are you, Harvard graduates of 2008, likely to touch other people's lives? Your intelligence, your capacity for hard work, the education you have earned and received, give you unique status, and unique responsibilities. Even your nationality sets you apart. The great majority of you belong to the world's only remaining superpower. The way you vote, the way you live, the way you protest, the pressure you bring to bear on your government, has an impact way beyond your borders. That is your privilege, and your burden.

If you choose to use your status and influence to raise your voice on behalf of those who have no voice; if you choose to identify not only with the powerful, but with the powerless; if you retain the ability to imagine yourself into the lives of those who do not have your advantages, then it will not only be your proud families who celebrate your existence, but thousands and millions of people whose reality you have helped transform for the better. We do not need magic to change the world, we carry all the power we need inside ourselves already: we have the power to imagine better.

I am nearly finished. I have one last hope for you, which is something that I already had at 21. The friends with whom I sat on graduation day have been my friends for life. They are my children's godparents, the people to whom I've been able to turn in times of trouble, friends who have been kind enough not to sue me when I've used their names for Death Eaters. At our graduation we were bound by enormous affection, by our shared experience of a time that could never come again, and, of course, by the knowledge that we held certain photographic evidence that would be exceptionally valuable if any of us ran for Prime Minister.

 

So today, I can wish you nothing better than similar friendships. And tomorrow, I hope that even if you remember not a single word of mine, you remember those of Seneca, another of those old Romans I met when I fled down the Classics corridor, in retreat from career ladders, in search of ancient wisdom:
As is a tale, so is life: not how long it is, but how good it is, is what matters.
 

I wish you all very good lives.
Thank you very much.

One reason I don’t drink is that I want to know when I am having a good time.

On a balmy Sunday noon, my mobile receives a sms. Its from my cousin.

"Alcohol is not an answer to every question." - Swami Vivekanand

"But it definitely helps you forget the question" - Swami Vijay Mallya

And such jokes are endless... i guess almost all of you must have read 'I read the evils of drinking and i gave up reading' or 'alchohol can cause pregnancy' or 'dont drink and drive or you may hit the bump and spill your drink.' Such jokes galore...

Alcohol -- aahhh.... the thing i hate the most. How it has always caused irritation, frustration, fights, disgust and hatred. Alcohol has always been a thought provoking subject for me. Having seen too many hindi movies, i have been brought up to think that alcohol is for the baddies. The good guys dont even touch alcohol. People who drink are wife-beaters, spend-thrifts, wasted, womanisers. Afterall, never saw Salman, Shahrukh or Aamir drinking. It was only Amrish Puri, Anupam Kher and Gulshan Grover who drank... Isnt it?

The real life samples were even worse. One was a wife-beater and therefore divorced. Another debt ridden because he spent it all on alcohol. He was later divorced. One was suffering from liver cancer. Left his wife in debt and children scarred for the rest of their lives.

And then i met Amul. At 17, Amul not only enjoyed his vodka and whiskey but also had a preference. 'On the rocks, please'. It repelled it me at first. The smell, his body language, his conversations after the drink... everything. And like a good dutiful committed boyfriend, he gave it all up for me. But little did i know then that giving up something for someone you love doesnt last too long. So after series of fights, conversations, discussions, silent snares.... i somewhere down the line accepted that my guy drinks. And somewhere down the line Amul compromised that he wouldnt take too much liberty with the liberty and kept his consumption limited (which by the way completely depends upon the equation we share at that moment. If there's a tiff going on, he drinks away to glory, only to prove a point. And if everything is hunky-dory and fairy tale-ish, his one drink will last him 4 hours)

I do not know why does he drink. I have never asked him. I guess even if i was to ask him, i doubt he did have an answer. He would just gaze at me with a puzzled look on his face, trying to figure out in his mind, 'now where is this coming from'. I seriously doubt he would even give my question a thought. Perhaps, because there isnt a clear answer to it. Maybe Amul drinks because he was brought up in that kind of environment. Where drinking has been a way to network, to beat the stress, to catch up with family or just to show off to friends who live in a dry state. For my father-in-law, a glass of whiskey is actually a friend. He drinks when he is stressed, he drinks when he is celebrating, he drinks to good weather, he drinks to bad weather, he drinks to good health, he drinks when he is tired. A drink perhaps settles him down. For my own dad, drinking is better than facebook or orkut or twitter. A drink gives him an opportunity to be with people with whom he can share his tales and jokes. Sometimes he even uses winter and low temperatures as an excuse to have a peg or two. My friends have their own reasons. While one enjoys her glass of wine or vodka everytime she is with her friends or family, another one enjoys it because it was like a forbidden fruit all her life and now that there's no one to stop her or question her, she doesnt mind getting wasted once in a while. One friend has recently started drinking. I dont know why. Perhaps just to fit in. And now he drinks like he is catching up on the lost time. :)

As for me, I dont drink. Its not like i have never tasted alcohol. I was introduced to beer by my dad. I hated it from the word 'go'. I have never tasted whiskey. I have had vodka on a couple of occasions. I dont remember how many times but the last time i had it was in Ladakh. I used 'its bloody cold' as an excuse. I infact even ordered one mojitos in a Bangkok bar but couldnt drink it. If there's something, i would confess, i like is Bacardi Breezer. 'But thats hardly alcohol', says Amul. I occasionally take Coffee Liquor. But thats more for coffee than for liquor. So maybe you guys will allow me to conclude that i dont drink. Amul anyway prefers that i dont drink. 'You talk too much even without a drink,' is his explanation.

Maybe i am a hypocrite when it comes to alcohol. :)

But i totally, i repeat, i totally hate the meets where people in ahmedabad catch up and have drinks. Whatte bloody waste of time. But again, if the same set of people were at a beach or in a pub, talking and having a drink, i wouldnt hate it that much. I hate it when Amul is all wasted and reeks of alcohol and then drives back home. It repels me to no extent. But i dont mind it when Amul is having a drink when we are out holidaying and he's sharing a tale with me. I hate it when every occasion in my home is accompanied by a drinking session. But i dont mind it when it gives an opportunity for the entire family to recall the old times and break into old songs. I hate it when men sometimes prefer a glass of whiskey to end their day than have a small, inconsequential and heartfelt chat with their spouses. But then when spouses act all pricey and demanding and can talk nothing except the irregularities of a maid servant or crib about the office, maybe a glass of whiskey is a better choice.

A few people have even conveyed how sorry they feel as i dont drink. Little do they know, that its easier to drink and forget. Maybe I am tougher than those people. I can deal with life without getting intoxicated. But yes - I envy you all who drink. Atleast you guys know whom to blame for everything.

August Diary

There's always a reason behind everything. I have many behind not blogging in the month of August. Inspite of it being one of the longest months of the year, i was too busy and hassled to even drop in a word. Imagine... how occupied i must have been.

So i am going to pen... rather type... my August Diary in September.

• Work has been defining my life these days. Have been extremely busy with work... so much so that sometimes i feel i am doing a job of four ppl put together. Follow ups, confirming a report, reporting, travelling, special stories, forward planning and day plans and events... god, its been too much. I have fed NewsX so much in last month that i am not only tired of cooking but am sure they have developed an indigestion too. I have had no time to send bills, reimburse my expenses or even take Sundays off. Swine flu deaths, book ban, spurious liquor and poor BJP...

• When i am not working... i am occupied with Amul. His birthday falls in August and we took a three day off to go to POLO forests. Its one of the most beautiful landscape in Gujarat. It was a good break... a much needed one and it couldnt have come at a better time than his birthday. Wont reveal the details too much... but it was high time i put aside work and spent time relaxing... and thats exactly what i did. Packed, took three days off, spent two days in forest, laughed at heart's content, played with Aara and spent three whole days with Amul.... Fabulous is the word.

Amul with a beer on his birthday... what more could he ask for?

Vrushti and Aara... Aara's first holiday

Janki, Amul, Chintan and Arjun... at Vijaynagar Palace... a heritage place where we stayed in Polo

Chintan and Aara... Aara had a blast on this holiday...

Mos and Amul... and the reservoir behind....

• It was a month of return too. Devam is finally back from the US. Though he hasnt turned up home and has a lame excuse for that... i hope i get to see him again. He has bluntly told me how i figure last in his list but in the same sentence assured me that he loves me equally. I dont understand diplomacy and therefore didnt exactly understand what he meant. This month also marked the first anniversary of Vrushti and Chintan's return to India. The biggest differentiator between the last year and this year has been.... Aara... who's growing leaps and bounds everyday.

• Another small yet significant thing about August was festivals. It started with Rakhi. I didnt send any rakhi to my NRI brothers... i was so occupied with work and travel that i didnt find time to send any. But still took two hours out on Rakhi to tie rakhi to a few cousins who live in Ahmedabad... :) i love the tradition of tying a rakhi, exchanging sweets and receiving money as a gift... majja aavi gai. And if Rakhi marked the beginning of the month and was celebrated at my maternal grandpa's house.... the month's end was marked by Ganpati at in-laws. For the first time, i sat in ganpati pooja... prayed to Ganpati to remove obstacles from two ppl's paths... and the most exciting stuff was wearing a sari on the visarjan day... :) looked like an aunty.... :)

So August is over... September arrived with a bang. On the first day, stood four hours in a queue at beauty parlour to book myself for the wedding day. Frustrating, hilarious and a tiresome experience it was. All ladies in Ahmedabad want to get ready at the same parlour.... so they all land up here early in the morning to get an appointment. It was worse than a visa line. After waiting for so long... i finally got an appointment. I havent worked so hard for getting amul as much as i did for get that appointment. But its finally done... Its also a reminder that wedding is just three months away.

The nervousness is creeping in gradually. Amul and i often point out what a relief it is to go back to individual houses every night. We often ponder if we will be able to stay together all the time? But i guess we will know it all in just a matter of few months...

September meanwhile.... is going to be fun. Its Navarati time.... garba, dandiya, late nights and honest ni paubhaji and pulao... :)

But till Navarati begins... its time for me to leave for Kutch... I am going to Lakhpat (the kanyakumari of west) on the border of india and pakistan. Should be fun, hot, tiring and a memorable experience. If its worth writing and sharing... will blog about it when i am back...

Till then... to you all... Happy September!!!

"Happy" New Year

Even before the clock struck 12, I was bombarded with messages wishing me a Happy New Year. Being a Gujarati, I am blessed to celebrate two such new year's every year. So while i was being bombarded with good wishes from every nook and corner of the world... my thoughts went back to the year which was phasing out quietly...

2008, was perhaps, ashamed, on the way it had turned out to be. He quietly was leaving the scene, without making too much noise or attracting attention. It hadnt been a good year. Markets had crashed - the 25000 mark on the sensex now looks like a five year plan. Terror ripped apart our country - like some paper was being shredded in the waste destroying machine. Times had changed - forever - for many of us. My two best friends got married in 2008. Times have changed for our country too - a carefree, progressive nation like our's, which was touted as a country to watch out for - has become the global attraction since 26/11. Politics in India has changed forever - the policies that attended to securing nation's poor - will now shift to protecting nation's urban - considering the recent spat of terror attacks.

Though my life hasnt seen a drastic change in 2008 - i have nonetheless been affected by the changes taking place around me. If i have to look back at 2008, a few prominent landmarks would be that of changing my job ( I left radiocity and moved to NewsX) and that amul and i completed ten years of being together in 2008. (I am glad i can be happy about both) Though the year had its own setback - for the first time in my life, Ahmedabad was targetted. I never thought i would be covering one of the worst bomb blasts in my own city. It was heart wrenching. The Civil Hospital sight has been carved in my memories forever. Everytime i think about it, my heart skips a beat. It was traumatic to say the least.

But as they say that "Change is the only constant thing in life."

I am looking forward to 2009. New year brings new hopes... A lot of us are looking forward to this year with new ambition, new wishes and new experiences. While Chintan-Vrushti are looking forward to becoming parents, Amul - I are looking forward to being married. Devam is looking forward to come back and start afresh in Mumbai and while some other friends are looking forward to pack up from Mumbai and moving back/forward.

When everyone has been forwarding messages and emails, wishing each other - Happy New Year, i thought of doing my own little survey to see - that in gloomy times like these, what makes one happy?? Some very interesting answers came up. I got to conclude that inspite of so many insecurities and expectations around, 'hapiness' doesnt come from accomplishing those 'materialistic' goals... instead, people tell me that its their 'family' that makes them happy. If there's something that gives people peace - its being around their family. "Having home cooked meal", "Seeing my children together at home", "Sleeping in my dad's lap" all turn up in the answers.

While men chose to reply in one words and women were more elaborate about their happiness, the factors or points are same.

People from different age groups, too dont differ much when it comes to deciding what makes them happy. For parents, its their children who are a source of happiness and for children, its spending time with their parents, recollecting old memories and doing things together, that brings them happiness.

And the surprising thing is, while most of us want a hike in our salaries, or a foreign holiday or a new home or a new car, none of these, figured in the list "this makes me happy" at all.

For some, India doing good matters a lot... India facing up to terror and politicians doing their jobs correct will bring them 'happiness'.

"India winning a match." "Playing with my dog." "A hot shower." "A nice song." - are just some of the answers...

Here's the entire list.

Vrushti - The image of my baby playing with Laphroaig and giggling in delight with the sheer exuberance of being alive. (Vrushti is eight months pregnant and she's already a mother to her four month old labrador - Laphroaig, named after her favourite Whiskey Brand); The memories of Chintan and me lying around at home watching movies and drinking wine all sunday in the freezing melbourne winter; Closing my eyes and imagining that i'm cycling along the riverfront by myself - really hard, really fast - racing to beat my own time; Laying my head in dad's lap while he reads the newspaper on a sunday morning and feeling like a child again - totally secure and very loved... (These) things that matter today and will do a hundred years from now.

Chintan - Aara (thats what Vrushti and Chintan plan to name their child if the baby is a daughter), Sex, H*** (Censored on my blog), Laphroaig (He's father to a four month old Labrador), Beer. (Men will be men... :) )

Sujit - Eating at a good place, helping someone to get a job, low real estate rates, branded stuff out at discounted rates. ( Well, Sujit is an exception on the matters of materialism and happiness :) )

Aditya - Pakistan made to suffer; United and neat Politics; US asked not to interfere; Modi for PM's post in next general elections; India continuing to do good in cricket. (Aditya lives in Mumbai and was obviously affected by the recent attack on Mumbai.)

Anuja (Jadu) - India winning a cricket match; War with A****** (Our neighbouring country); Getting over with recession; Good Politicians to rule our country; Upgrading our security system. (Anuja is tired of recession... seems like her shopping trips have been curbed... but what the heck... i too want to get over this insecurity, of whether my next paycheck will come on time or not)

Arjun - Friends, Food, Family, Games - Computer and outdoors, Road trups. (Short and Sweet)

Raksha - A good hair day; A good friend; A good cup of hot tea; Text Twirl on Facebook (now what is that??!!); My monthly paycheck that reminds me that i atleast still have my job. (Now, this is typically Raksha - honest to the core.. :) )

Devam - Meeting loved ones; Looking forward to festivals; Making people around me feel important and happy; Working out in the Gym; Learn something new to forget the crisis time. (Now thats Devam - who gets this huge smile on face, if the audience around him is happy with him... )

Dad - Proper Sleep at proper time; Good Music; Humourous and Positive people; Creative artists and sportsperson; people with vision and determination.

Mom - Having Devam and Mosiqi around me; Both my kids on the dining table; Doing a kind deed; Singing; Praying.

Amul - Mosiqi; Food; Good Weather; Friends; Sleep (He asked me to replace Sleep with Music... )

Mosiqi - When showered with kisses from Amul; Long chats over coffee with Anu and Anuja; Spending time at home with mom, dad and devam around; Celebrating festivals in 360 manner with food, clothes and traditions; Hot shower and a cold coffee. Anyday!!

Here's wishing that each 'source' of happiness for everyone, stays by and stands by them in this new year. Wishing you all a very very "Happy" New Year. :)