I have been transferred to my hometown and am presently, putting up with my parents. Quite relieving indeed, to have a home and hearth since transfers always mean a dislocation, the pain of getting all your stuff in one piece to the new place and of course, the deep fear of unknown in the professional sphere. Home town means the comfort of being surrounded by members of extended family, relatives and bevy of familiar faces. Hometown also means frequent visits of relatives and old friends to check out how one has been faring in life and also to offer suggestions as to how to improve one's state of being. Not an issue at all..except that I happen to be working in the police. The media blitzkrieg has ensured that even though the police force is reviled for its perpetual ineptness, there is a growing sense of awareness and empathy for the problems afflicting the police force. Foremost happens to be the psychological health and emotional well being of the police personnel on job. Psychologists, Sociologists, Public administrators, Medicos, NGOs, universities in India and abroad et al seem to have had a field day in conducting extensive researches and concluding that a majority of our police persons go through immense stress, depression,anxiety attacks and a plethora of other psychosomatic disorders due to the demanding nature of their jobs. Which is, in fact, a reality.
However, all realities and facts of life are not so sweet. It is a wonderful feeling and quite satisfying too, enlightening one's relatives, friends and acquaintances of the rigors of one's service and subsequently, receiving hosannas and kudos from them for all the thankless jobs one engages in on a daily basis. But, it is another story altogether when this strategy backfires. Recently, a family friend of nearly 3 decades visited us. After the routine recriminations about losing one's pinky glow and not being able to keep in touch due to the demands of the job, the favourite topic of police brutality and apathy unfolded. Being a part of the police and finding it a little tough to swallow the seemingly unwarranted criticism, I thought it to be a good idea to enlighten the gentleman about the serious problems facing the police..resource crunch, staff crunch, poor infrastructure..the works. Not to lose out, he gave a quick repartee that being in the police( and thereby having lost all charm, beauty and appreciation of finer things of life), I must be in a state of chronic depression given the issues and challenges we face on a daily basis. Not expecting a personal remark, I could only mutter that the general problems might not always be person specific. Not to be deterred, the doctor in our family friend rose to the occasion and dutifully lectured me on how tough the job is, how the stressful situations have managed to sink me into a state of despair and how it is so evident on my poor face. All presumptions...and I was about to refute when the grand suggestion arrived that I must meditate and practice yoga religiously since the latter is a panacea to all such problems. And, to top it all, extensive researches, monographs and studies have attested that yoga is indeed the alchemist's stone-the one stop solution to bring about physical and mental well being.
i have nothing against yoga or any other commonly accepted mode of relieving tensions and stress. However, there cannot be a stereotypical solution to any problem. All police persons or for that matter, all human beings may not attain moksha through one widely feted practice. I, for one, draw immense relief from the drudgery of the day by chatting away with a loved one or by talking about some hilarious vignettes of life with a close friend.For me, a human interaction spiced with emotional connection is much more a stress buster and energy booster than meditating, which frankly induces me to sleep. I tried to convey the same to the seasoned doctor, who, by then, had the expression on his face, which, I am sure, he reserves for the relatives of his patients who are on their death beds. An extremely sorry face indicating that there is no hope for me given this attitude towards holier-than-holy yoga which comes with certificates from sages of the hoary past to the ablest researchers of the present. A look of pity that given my job, there is actually no hope for me and I am on my way to an asylum sometime pretty soon. Which, i think, is far from reality!
I strongly feel that it is true that our lives have indeed become stressful, tightly wired and challenging on a day to day basis. We all need to beat the heat and it is up to us to devise ways and means to do so. There cannot be stereotypical solutions to our individual concerns. The road map to our little joys cannot be dictated by some sham-glam research. That which gives a spring to our steps, lights up our faces and kills all the dark monsters has to be identified by us and pursued by us. Thinking of all this, i shake myself up from the reverie to find our family friend still lecturing me on the benefits of withdrawing from the world to mental solitude in order to achieve peace inner joy. I smile, for I strongly believe that the real joy is in engaging with the world, sparring with life and drawing strength from it. And then, I pick up the phone to talk to a dear friend. to relieve the agony of this hackneyed conversation.
However, all realities and facts of life are not so sweet. It is a wonderful feeling and quite satisfying too, enlightening one's relatives, friends and acquaintances of the rigors of one's service and subsequently, receiving hosannas and kudos from them for all the thankless jobs one engages in on a daily basis. But, it is another story altogether when this strategy backfires. Recently, a family friend of nearly 3 decades visited us. After the routine recriminations about losing one's pinky glow and not being able to keep in touch due to the demands of the job, the favourite topic of police brutality and apathy unfolded. Being a part of the police and finding it a little tough to swallow the seemingly unwarranted criticism, I thought it to be a good idea to enlighten the gentleman about the serious problems facing the police..resource crunch, staff crunch, poor infrastructure..the works. Not to lose out, he gave a quick repartee that being in the police( and thereby having lost all charm, beauty and appreciation of finer things of life), I must be in a state of chronic depression given the issues and challenges we face on a daily basis. Not expecting a personal remark, I could only mutter that the general problems might not always be person specific. Not to be deterred, the doctor in our family friend rose to the occasion and dutifully lectured me on how tough the job is, how the stressful situations have managed to sink me into a state of despair and how it is so evident on my poor face. All presumptions...and I was about to refute when the grand suggestion arrived that I must meditate and practice yoga religiously since the latter is a panacea to all such problems. And, to top it all, extensive researches, monographs and studies have attested that yoga is indeed the alchemist's stone-the one stop solution to bring about physical and mental well being.
i have nothing against yoga or any other commonly accepted mode of relieving tensions and stress. However, there cannot be a stereotypical solution to any problem. All police persons or for that matter, all human beings may not attain moksha through one widely feted practice. I, for one, draw immense relief from the drudgery of the day by chatting away with a loved one or by talking about some hilarious vignettes of life with a close friend.For me, a human interaction spiced with emotional connection is much more a stress buster and energy booster than meditating, which frankly induces me to sleep. I tried to convey the same to the seasoned doctor, who, by then, had the expression on his face, which, I am sure, he reserves for the relatives of his patients who are on their death beds. An extremely sorry face indicating that there is no hope for me given this attitude towards holier-than-holy yoga which comes with certificates from sages of the hoary past to the ablest researchers of the present. A look of pity that given my job, there is actually no hope for me and I am on my way to an asylum sometime pretty soon. Which, i think, is far from reality!
I strongly feel that it is true that our lives have indeed become stressful, tightly wired and challenging on a day to day basis. We all need to beat the heat and it is up to us to devise ways and means to do so. There cannot be stereotypical solutions to our individual concerns. The road map to our little joys cannot be dictated by some sham-glam research. That which gives a spring to our steps, lights up our faces and kills all the dark monsters has to be identified by us and pursued by us. Thinking of all this, i shake myself up from the reverie to find our family friend still lecturing me on the benefits of withdrawing from the world to mental solitude in order to achieve peace inner joy. I smile, for I strongly believe that the real joy is in engaging with the world, sparring with life and drawing strength from it. And then, I pick up the phone to talk to a dear friend. to relieve the agony of this hackneyed conversation.
