Uncategorized | existabovethenoise

For the last two weeks my best friend from high school and her boyfriend have been here in town. Though he was perfectly pleasant the first time I met him, some three years ago, I was preparing for the worst from his stay this time. There were many factors that led me to inform my co-workers that if I didn’t like him there might be a very tall, very homeless African-American man wandering around South Delhi looking for assistance. But, it turned out to be such a positive experience that it inspired this very blog post. Go figure!

See, we must be candid about this boyfriend. He remains on my shit list. ‘Why?’ you may ask. Well, because he needs to marry my best friend already (Hell yea, I wrote it)! And if he doesn’t, my shit list will turn to my hit list #alanancykerrigan. (No, just kidding – he’s like 4 times my size.) But, this trip was good for building confidence between me and my best friend’s Stedman. Since she is hopelessly in love, I have given up on trying to lure her away from him. To be frank, every time I have tried to hook her up with someone new, she’s ended up pushing me into the arms of some visible goon (she got me a couple of times with that one).

Anyway, my philosophy is if you can’t beat ‘em, beat ‘em over the head with your plan B. Stedman has given me multiple assurances that her day will come and we established a timeline that I’m satisfied with. I will send him progress reports and project plans over the coming months until he finally does the damned thing! #goodfriendshipsometimesinvolvesstalking

All this peace making and wedding planning, with a dude I’d previously said I really didn’t like all that much, got me to thinking about all the other people I actually still don’t like all that much. I usually hate to acknowledge that people with poor character or lame personalities (in my humble opinion) have any redeeming qualities, but recognizing that people aren’t 100% bad may be a sign that I’m growing older and ~~weaker~~ wiser. As I mulled it over, I realized that I have learned quite a few things from people I still find repugnant:

DON’Ts

Don’t lay all your cards on the table all the time. From a former friend, I learned that I don’t like people who don’t draw a line in the sand and declare what side of the fence they’re on. It’s a personality thing that I may grow out of. Actually, I probably won’t. But, I observed that when she interacted with people who were not like me, being ~~useless~~ aloof actually made her kinda popular. Having no opinion, moral stance, or declared conviction AND offering no additional information or assistance actually made her come off as neutral & ‘safe’ to disclose information to and court for support. In my personal life I still despise people like her, but in my professional life I’m learning how to play my cards closer to my chest without appearing deceptive in the end (yea, she needed to work on that part too).

My high school arch nemesis taught me this little gem. (No, I don’t think we ever did speak again – except that one time in college when I saw her in the subway trying to hook up with my friend’s [now ex] boyfriend). Never email anyone to tell them how much you really hate them. This is common sense now, but it wasn’t then when the interweb was new. P.S. It is highly likely that if you feel so compelled to tell them you hate them – they already know.

A guy I dated on and off for way too long taught me that guitar players are bad people. I’m not talking about the guy who lends a hand with his local church band when the regular bass player is hung over. I’m talking about the lead guitarist in any band that accepts (or aspires to accept) cash payment for a performance in front of screaming ladies throwing their panties on stage. 4 out of 5 sane people agree that of all musicians, guitarists are the biggest narcissists AND the least likely to succeed.

DOs

Be clear, not aggressive. I actually don’t like this person, because they are so aggressive. But, I learned from their professional example to put my foot down (early and often) and to set the tone for how I’d like to be treated. I always shied away from letting my ambition come across as bossy, until this person added too much bass in their voice in a phone call. In our conversation, I can admit that I’d been proverbially pimp slapped. But, in looking back, I now know that I could have avoided the interaction entirely had I been clearer at the outset – instead of trying to ‘be nice.’ Since then, I’ve gotten better at explaining how I operate, the limitations I have, and the expectations I have for others.

Bribe staff and co-workers with baked goods! From a previous co-worker for whom I (still) have very little respect, I learned that Betty Crocker and Duncan Hines are the best office managers. People may not respect your personality, but they will listen to you time and time again if you offer baked goods at regular intervals. I find this particularly helpful in India where most people don’t have ovens – so baked goods are a special treat. If I want talk time with anyone, I just send out that email “Hey guys, cupcakes at my desk.” And, you know what? No matter how effed up their work product or their attitude, they will always come for sugar calories from a box. Then, it’s my time to ambush! This also works in the affirmative – for special requests for time off and thank yous for obnoxious things you have requested or will request in the future.

Surround yourself with people who make you look good. (Disclaimer: It makes you look a lil desperate though if those same people also look up to you.) I have very little use for this particular lady’s self inflated ego, but she’s been in my presence long enough for me to observe her skillful art of tailoring her company in specific situations. She’s not interested in having Turtle and Drama hang out with her all day just because they are her most loyal friends. Nope! For a special occasion, she will clean up a wallflower with basic education and get them to stand next to her, so that she’ll look like a rockstar. While there are visible flaws in her tactic of swapping friends for fans, I would say that it is a sign of maturity to be around people who both make you look good and who feel that they can grow from your relationship. I personally believe that people who make me look good are a crowd of my peers and mentors, ambitious people of stellar character. But if you – like her – think the people who make you look good are a group of adult sized gremlins, perhaps you should disregard this entire paragraph altogether.

It is almost 8pm at the Red Fort, and there’s been no reason to stick around to listen to the rest of the ‘Sound and Light’ show. The show gives an audio version of the history of the monument – those who lived there, in palace and imprisoned. But, we were already at the point when Mahatma Gandhi started to reject British colonial and cultural superiority. So, we knew the end of that story. It’s Diwali, after all, and we’re just a stone’s throw away from Old Delhi’s Chandni Chowk – a site my companion for the evening hasn’t seen yet.

Her father is Guyanese Indian and she’s in India for the first time, in Delhi for just one day, and back in my life after ten years. We went to high school together and happened to be connected on facebook – and so, the stars aligned for an evening under Lakshmi’s lights. As we exit the show, we pass by the closed stalls and deserted shops. But one remains open. They have jewelry and bangles, and sheeshah pipes and pens – and this is her only night in Delhi. So, we stop. And so the shopkeepers, too, must stop. Their ‘puja’ that is. But, they say, ‘we are praying to Lakshmi so that she brings prosperity and wealth into our shop, and you’re here when no one else is here and no other shop is open, but this one. So, she brings you in. We are happy. No problem.’

We shop and we bargain, and I beg the bhaiya to drop his price for a brass hookah for my high school chum. We banter a bit and I ask what is it they’re doing with the fruit for Lakshmi. “Do you eat it or throw it away tomorrow?” she asks. ‘We can give it away, but it must stay tonight for Lakshmi.’ “Ok, well I’m sorry. I feel bad that we interrupted your puja,” I say. ‘You know about my puja? I am so happy. You not from here and you know about my puja,’ he says with excitement. “Well, yes, you know about my President. I know about your puja,” I say with a head bob and a chuckle.

We bag our bundles and head to the Gurdwara for a loud scene of firecrackers and marigold dust. Yet it feels as if we’ve taken home more in our bags than just our trinkets.

My ears are ringing from the firecrackers in the street, launched by housewives and their school age children. This is not the part of Diwali that I like. I don’t like the chaos, but prefer the prayer – the oil and the lights, the fruit and the altars, the chants and the good intentions heard by Lakshmi-ji. I reach home focusing on a new day with a city full of her goodwill around me, and I know that I’m in for some changes.

In her own Shiva-esque (destructive) kind of way, good ole’ Lakshmi-ji has been bringing me prosperity and light ever sense. This week has been one of shedding spotlights on truths I would rather keep hidden. The relationship I am not over, the money I’m not spending well, the weight I’m not maintaining, the PhD program I haven’t decided on, the promotion I need to get, the onward assignment I’d better fight for, the aunt that’s in the hospital, the forgiveness I can’t give, the greatness that I need more convincing to believe I deserve…

And oh how much I need that light. What an exhale it is at that moment when you admit that you are not where you want to be, but that you know – without hesitation – that you will get there, you will live that reality, you will become what you seek. Lakshmi puja is about asking for divine intervention to improve well-being and enhance prosperity of all kinds. It is asking for help – something that I hate to do, but must damn well get better at – to be a better you (or me, I should say). I feel a respite in that; not a surrender, but a settling down like firecracker ashes on pavement.

Something quiets in my soul and a certain stamina regenerates itself. After all, Lakshmi is also characterized by a positive, results-oriented kind of energy. So, this is not your pansy, ‘wake up zestfully clean’ energy. This is your ‘extraordinary perseverance to push through emotional exhaustion to concur new stages of mental, physical, and spiritual wellness,’ kinda Shakti! Lakshmi ain’t no chump.

So, she put me to work. I blame her for making me call my ex to face some hard learned facts, but damn it if I can’t credit her for setting me straight! She got me tickets to an exclusive summit that put me face to face with a powerful professor at the university I’d like to attend for my PhD. Homegirl even had me sit down and go over my finances today, so I could ‘trim the fat’ and get on the good foot. This week she and I laughed, we cried (well, mostly, I cried). And she let me have a chocolate chip cookie after she saw that I weighed in 5 lbs lighter than 2 weeks ago. I mean, really, she and I have had an interesting week since that night in the Red Fort.

I’m not so sure what I did to deserve her attention in a city full of people beckoning her into their lives. Maybe I caught some residual puja purity or I was in the right place at the right time all too frequently this week. But what I do know for certain is that since Tuesday night, I’ve been sure that I have a star in my corner. And, with that, the future is looking mighty bright.