In first part of my story, I wrote about my experience of facing a medical complication and feelings attached to it; which I must confess was very raw and crude.
In this part I am penning down life during and after recovery.
But before I continue, one more confession.
No matter how crude they appear, those raw feelings were the ones that were straight from my soul.
They bypassed rational-me.
And served a higher purpose in my life.
#7 Pity Party begins
I kept talking to my gone baby on my own. A baby, who actually never was. My behaviour and thought process was erratic. I thought I was losing my wits.
I was trying hard to go back to normal life. But one thing that bothered me were the pains which surfaced from time to time. Though their intensity was less but their frequency was quite high.
Life after hospital discharge was very confusing. I could not adjust. I did not know what to do with me.
Two issues bothered me profusely:
Mental state- Talking endlessly to my gone baby.
Physical state- Recurring pain.
These two issues were getting better of me day by day.
But I never talked about this.
Never shared it with anyone.
Not even to my husband.
I would act perfectly normal in front of him.
He was clueless about my battle with this bi-fold invisible illness.
Days passed like that. Little did I realise that not talking about my unsorted issues is like a quagmire. The more I preferred non-sharing, the more trouble I faced.
# 8 Depression
I was still in shhhh-do-not-tell-anyone mode. Whenever a friend or a relative asked what I was doing in Hubli, I would reply "just spending some quality time with my husband" What a crass reply! But never allowed feelings to surface.
Not allowing feelings to surface; a detrimental phenomenon for one's emotional well-being.
I kept visiting doctors for the routine check-ups; most of the time solo now.
I would see a doctor, get myself examined. I would ask same question every
time, "Why this happened to me?" Every time I got same answer on 'how' it
happened but never got an answer to 'why' it happened. I had no idea how to
deal with the contradictory feelings.On one side, I was thankful that I was
out of hospital, on the other I had this chronic pains and giddiness blackouts
that I have to face every day.Multiple times.
My body was not responding the way it should and I was becoming more and more concerned.
I would panic and run to doctor with any symptoms that seemed abnormal.I kept handling (or rather mal-handling) all this and continued with my routine.
A normal day would look something like this:
Wake up at 6am.
Start with daily activities.
By 7am, little giddy. Keep calm. Carry on.
By 8am, a little more giddy. Keep calm, carry on.
Around 9am, body resigns.
Then sit and cry.
Remember your previous-better version.
Cry. Feel powerless. Feel weak.
Cry more. Feel more powerless. Feel more weaker.
More tears. More fears.
Interestingly, I ensured and went for these episodes when my husband was not around.
This continued for weeks. Every day I suffered, rued my past stronger self, same crying and then this whole cycle of self-pity begins.
#9 Pity Party continues...
It was Sunday noon. Doorbell rang. My husband opened the door. An aunty cum neighbor came to see me.
At the very outset, she asked about my health.
Then she asked a bit more about my health.
Then more and more of it.
Howsoever reluctant I was, she dug it all.
After listening it all from me and getting contended that she now has every little details of my medical journey; she assured that things will be alright soon. She even told me about her acquaintance that underwent similar condition and how she now has a happy brood.
She instructed me to maango-some-mannat-for-a-baby.
Gave some more advices and left.
The moment she left, I started shouting at my husband, " Why at all you let her come inside?"
"But, you always listened to her. You always told how much she cares for
you. I thought you liked her." He explained.
Ehhh !! Well, yes, that's a truth. Howsoever-unlike-my-generation it sounds, but that indeed is a truth. I enjoy listening to aunties or any elderly people. I never accepted that openly. Many of my friends might feel cheated after reading this because I would quietly listen to their unending ramblings about their super-interfering aunties. I always listened quietly. Never objected to it with my 'we-should-not-talk-bad-about-anyone' gyan.(Or even if I would have, I doubt its success)
But I accept, that was a problem, my problem. Not speaking one's mind is
indeed a problem.
Not voicing one's opinion is indeed unhealthy.
I am clueless as to why didn't I speak my mind. Whether I did not have courage to deviate from group opinion, whether it is just a side effect of introversion or simply because I was 'quintessentially-indifferent'.
Last one seems most convincing.
But being indifferent does not mean being disrespectful.
And how can I be. There is so much I get to learn from them, 'The Aunties Union'. If you pay close attention to their conversation; you will end up believing, they are most efficient interrogators in the world. Even FBI would fail to have such remarkable interrogation. And not only that, I am amazed how they use subtle techniques of behavioral sciences like nudge theory and choice architecture to get desired answers.
Pun apart.Truth prevails.
And the truth is.. yes, I am not sure about talking but listening is something I always loved. Listening to everybody; no bars of age, gender, profession etc.
My husband continued, "Isn't it? You are so fond of her?
"Noooooo..I am not." I shouted.
"But why are you shouting?Are you okay?" "I am perfectly okay. Why did you ask that?Do I look not-okay?"
"No,not that.But you never talk like this", he got disorientated.
"Oh! So now there is problem in my talking too. Don't dodge. Why do you let her come inside?" I fumbled and started crying like a crazy.
My husband was completely confused. He never saw me like that.He immediately
came and wrapped me in his arms as I sat down to start my pity party.
"What happened? Please tell me what happened?" He asked.
"Nothing." I said as I wiped tears rolling down my cheeks
He asked same question "what happened" around 50 odd times and I kept replying with "nothing".
Once my pity party was over, we had food. Had casual conversation. Then slept.
While I was lying on bed with my gaze fixed at ceiling fan; events started streaming before my eyes. And I contemplated. Why did I behave like that?
Was it because of the pains?
But then, I was not having even an iota of pain at that time.
May be I did not like what Aunty said. I attempted to excuse myself.
But whatever she said, it did not really affect me. Or even if it did, the wildness of my reaction was not in proportion. Absolutely not.
Then why I reacted in such a way? Why did I create all this melodrama?
I was unsure of my body. But I was largely getting sure of my mind.
Certainly, there was something terribly wrong with the mind.
10# Search begins
I started skipping medical appointments as I was getting largely sure that
this can't cure me.
Hail to the doctors I was seeing, recovery on physical front was all good and satisfying.
But on psychological front, I was all messed up. I have always been someone who prefers controlling things.
Someone who overthinks. This made me a victim of all the side effects that
I read somewhere,
"Overthinking ruins you, ruins the situation. Twists things around, makes you worry and just makes everything much worse than it actually is".
I was the human version of these words.
Overthinking sends me to an autopilot mode. I start imagining things that are not even distantly related to the original thought.
My overthinking continued and I was not able to decode my mind. So, I thought of taking help from someone who is better equipped with this mind and brains things. An idea of seeing a Psychiatrist crossed my mind. Since, my mother is always the first person in morning and the last person in night who I talk to over phone, I thought of giving a little hint to her.
The idea had not even fully sprouted and my over thinker brain got a cue of it.
It started sending alerts.
I began visualizing 'FUTURE' conversation that might follow my idea of seeing a Psychiatrist.
Me: "Mumma, I am not able to handle myself after all what has happened.I am thinking of seeing a Psychiatrist. What do you say?"
Mumma: "Hmmm..ok beta..muje to nahi lagta uski zarurat hai lekin jaisa thik
samjho.."(Hmm..I don't think it is needed but do as you deem correct)
And then I start getting calls from well-wishers..
After 10 minutes, call from X, "Purvi, ye kya sun rahe hain ham? Tum dimaag ke doctor ko dikhaney wali ho?" (Purvi, what are we listening? You going to see
After 40 minutes, call from Y, "Purvi, tum thik to ho beta. Kya kaha paagal doctor ne...Errrrrr... Mera matlab hai paglo ke doctor ne?"
After 1 hour, call from Z, "Purvi, tumne paglo ke doctor ko dikha kar sahi nahi kiya. Arey un logo ko to puri duniya hi paagal nazar aati hai.Kuch na kuch to sabko hi bata detein hain." ( as if s/he is a regular visitor and knows it all)
After all this mind chattering, the thought of visiting a Psychiatrist evaporated from my mind as if it was never there at all.
And despite being sure that there is something wrong with my mind, I
preferred keeping it to myself.
Non sharing is like a mire. The more you are in it, the lesser you are available for rescue.
#11 A ra y of hope
As non sharing was giving way underfoot, I was trying hard to come out of this mind bog.
Days were passing by and I was fanatically searching for the answers of my
questions. But the search was heading nowhere. Just when I was about to give
up, a ray of hope came in. A ray of hope called Dr.Kammar. He was (and he is)
Principal of Karnataka Medical College, Hubli. I met him during my quest for
answers. But ironically, I did not ask any mind-related question to him. I did
not want to look weak. I never revealed my weaker self in front of him. While
talking to him, I tried acting smart and made sure that I do not mix my
feelings with my medical talk.
So, I posed few questions.
I asked a few more.
I was about to take his leave and things were about to close on that note.
As I turned towards exit door, Dr.Kammar's voice hit my ears, "Wait."
My mind chatter began immediately.
Is there something he forgot to tell me? Is there any revelation that he want to make about my medical condition? Is he going to tell me that I am going to die soon?
I tell you this mind chatter is a dangerous thing especially if you are
around a doctor.
I turned back.
Walked towards him with heavy steps and stood in front of him.
He read my inhibitions and said, "I wanted to tell this one more thing to you. In my career as a medical personnel, I have noticed that women facing an ectopic pregnancy find it hard to accept things. They sort of undergo an emotional trauma. They find it very hard to believe what happened. I am sorry to say but your questions suggested that you were more concerned with the medical part of it. See, you are not from medical discipline. The deeper you delve, the more confused you will get because that is not your specialisation. You have a management background. That too human resource management. Why don't you think of approaching from that angle? I mean the human aspect of this problem. I mean the management of emotions?" He interrogated.
I stood awashed.
I took it way too personally.
How did he say emotions? Emotions have to do with feelings. Feelings in turn are related to mind. He is not a Psychiatrist, how did he know about my emotions? That too, when I was trying hard to hide this E-word on my surface . Then, how did he know?
My mind whispered,
I admitted, "Sir, my behaviour and thoughts after this medical complication seem to be out of my control. I do not feel like doing anything. I keep mourning the potential. I complain to myself. I have completely failed. Why at all this happened to me. I remain upset and as a result I sometime behave erratically with my husband. And after behaving or talking bad, I sink into an abysmal guilt. I have become what I never was. I kept everything to myself especially pains. But now, it is all visible. My eyes often betray me and gets teary. I do not want this. May be I failed terribly in coping with this. See, even now I am telling all this to you but actually I don't want to" I paused suddenly. Don't know why..
He listened patiently. "It is perfectly all right. It is absolutely ok to
feel that way. I told you these emotional fluctuations are side effect of
ectopic pregnancy. But you will recover and that too very soon. You just need
to do these two things.
Stop seeing it as something that is still happening. It has happened and is past now. Stop thinking it as an ongoing process. Accept your loss. It was painful yet accept it. You need not cope with it. You need to accept and move on."
I listened quietly.
He continued, "Second, do not take it as your failure. You did not have any part to play in it. Instead of taking it as failure and brooding over it, count your blessings. You are educated, that is a blessing. You people could catch up on this ectopic early, that is a blessing. In my early career, I have seen cases where women were admitted with worsened symptoms and died due to a mature ectopic of 7 or 8 months. Thankfully, with the advent of technology, things have changed drastically. These days, death counts due to ectopic have significantly reduced because of timely diagnosis and treatment. Though number of cases of ectopic is on constant increase but that ways it is now a common medical complication......"
As I heard those words, I felt sorry for two things:
(i) For early days, when women lost their lives to it.
(ii) For present days, when it has become a common medical complication. Did I overrate it?
Dr.Kammar suggested further, "You are fortunate that you are well bred, have a great husband and a wonderful family. You qualify well enough to empower others emotionally. Work on it, in ways you feel useful."
By the time he paused, I had made my mind.
Made my mind to share it all..
Made my mind to write it all..
Made my mind to tell it to others..
Made my mind to not just tell; rather storytell it..
Telling is vertical whereas storytelling is horizontal.
It connects. It empowers.
I did not have words to thank Dr.Kammar but still I attempted and promised
that I will work enough to empower people emotionally.
After meeting and talking to him, I was already on a much better plane health wise. But there still were some issues that needed sorting. Out of which, sharing everything with my husband was paramount.
#12 One more step
Majority of the time, I have a peace in my heart about everything. But after ectopic, I have learnt that you have to really grieve in order to move on. No need of wearing that happy face when your heart is weeping inside.
I decided to talk to my husband about this. Decided to tell him that all these days I hid my plight from him. I wanted to apologize. I knew he would feel bad. But that was a candid confession that I needed to make in order to wipe slate clean and start afresh.
But then, making plans is one thing and executing them is other.
Honestly, I didn't think I was ever going to do that. It was difficult for me. But I mustered all my strength and did it one day.
That day when he was home, I went to him and told him what all I undergo when he is out for work.
I told him about my inabilities, my depression and the vicious cycle of
self-pity. I told him about the colicky pains that I still get.
I told him how helpless it feels to have this temporary polybag beside kitchen sink to throw stuff just because I can't stoop to reach out for dustbin.
I told him how badly I wanted to go back to work.
I told him about those intermittent crying session that I have every day, multiple times.
I told him how I think my problem is more in my mind rather than my body.
I told him how my reactions to situations are out of proportion.
While narrating all this I kept weeping and kept apologizing for not sharing this earlier.
That day, I wept profusely.
It was second mega weeping session of my life, the first ever was my 'Vidaayi' after marriage.
He listened to everything, looked into my eyes and commanded, "Dear, if you
ask me, you always had these two problems. And they have always been there.
Now, after you underwent this (ectopic), those two problems have surfaced like
never before in forms of various emotional and physical symptoms. This does not
mean they are new. They were always there."
"What two problems?" I could not wait to hear more from him.
"First, you are extremely closed. You do not want to concern anyone. You keep all your real matters with you. And you will talk about everything else that just is not you. Why all this mystery? Share more of yourself, your real self to everyone or at least to me." He paused.
"And second?" I felt as if I was in middle of an enlightenment.
"Stop judging yourself. Stop comparing your past self with your present self.
That, what a great all-rounder you were in early school and then how your
performance declined gradually.
That how good you were in later half of the college and then how your learning curve dented.
That how enthusiastic you were in first year of your job and then how you got absolutely lukewarm in your approach.
I have seen that you work hard for something and once you achieve it, you
downplay it and then you start looking for something better.
Moreover, if you are asked to talk about your achievements, within no time you
attribute it to luck. You focus more on your failures than on achievements.
Accept; that you once were hell bent for achieving this XYZ milestone.
Accept that you worked hard for it. And now when you have it, you no longer value it.
You always find ways to make you believe that your past performance was better.
Stop all this. Stop comparing your past self to the present self. All this had put immense pressure on your mind and body."
I sat motionless. My pupil dilated to allow more light.
He continued, "I have never seen you judging anyone, then why do you keep judging yourself? Can't you be more lenient to you? The over stretched goals you set, the high standards you adopt, the benchmarks you decide, do you have any idea how difficult and complex it gets even for me. I always see you in mission mode. Yes, that is your word, mission mode. You keep uttering this every now and then. Please go soft on yourself. Pleeeese." He became quiet with his typical commanding tone coming to an end.
There are moments in life for which you do not have any adjectives.
That was one such.
He was around all these days.
Why did I not share it with him earlier?
How thoroughly he knew me !!!
That is all what I have been doing all along.
Dwelling on pasts, not sharing my thoughts, keeping it all to myself, overrating my failures, underrating my achievements. Maybe these were my biggest unsolved issues. They have always been there.
It is just that I am physically weak now and that's why they have surfaced like never before.
An incident from 2007 flashed before my eyes. I was about to complete my first year of graduation and while a friend attempted to talk about career choices, I started whining over less marks scored in 10th standard.(Though I was crazy sure about my career path)
He read in between lines and said, "It seems you have not seen failures in life. The real failures; and not these moderated form of achievements that you deem failure. The way you are whining over past makes me think; God forbid, but if at all you get to face a real failure in life, how will you handle it?"
Not to mention, I neither liked nor understood what he said and brushed aside his insights.
After 9 (precisely eight; as I write- it is December, 2015) years, those words seem to make perfect sense.
I now understand it in stark clarity.
May be I faced a real failure.
Or maybe I deemed it so.
Yes, maybe I took this incident as a failure.
I was always a control freak.
And since I could not control anything during this medical journey, I
deemed it a failure.
Despite the fact, that I had no role to play in it.
It was something predestined.
It all was part of some divine plan.
But I took it in a very wrong spirit. The physical symptoms after a medical complication could manifest out of proportion because I allowed them to. That was more in my mind then on my body. I remember Mumma always taught us, "There is no physiology without psychology. Both of them are interdependent."
Whatever my husband said to me that day; kept ringing in my ears for hours.
A felt a new life rushing in me.
That was incredible.
Every word he said was significant and practical.
From that moment onward, I made it a point to count my blessings and be compassionate towards myself.
If I say my life changed overnight, it would be an overstatement.
I still get pains. I still go weak.
But the silver lining; I was treated medically and not surgically. My fantastic body is working overtime to recover fully.
I am still uncomfortable in expression by way of speaking.
But the silver lining, I have become all comfortable in expression through writing.
I can now write my heart out. Writing helps me in managing myself on all levels.
Irrespective of the ways one adopt, expression helps. It cures.
Make things much better than they actually are.
#13 The Mantra !
My heath was getting better day by day. At least my mind told me so.
I wanted to go back to my place, my work.
Go back, because I felt; I CAN.
And not because of those well-meaning concerns I was receiving, "Vapas aa jaogi to apne aap purani yaadein bhool jayogi"(Once you return to work, you will forget about this painful experience)
Probably, this is a common mindset that most of us harbour. Even, I had such mental makeup up to few days back.
That is how we are conditioned; shift your focus to 'event B' to forget about 'event A'. My learning so far tells me this doesn't work. It is not a long term solution. Rather this approach can play havoc on one's emotional well-being because it leave things unprocessed. Processing one's issues is important.
And now from my experience, I can say this one thing with conviction; trying to forget something is a trap. Alert your mind whenever you listen those well meaning sympathies you receive, "Chalo jo hua so hua, ab bhool jao." ("Forget all that has happened").
Wear your filters.
Forgetting is not a solution.
I need not forget.
I need to accept.
Live with it. And move on.
This worked verbatim in my case.
Ways to move ahead in life might differ from person to person.
But as I said, it worked for me and I call it my mantra, a five folded mantra-
1. Acknowledge that there are some issues.
2. Talk about these issues.
3. Do not judge yourself.
4.Learn from your experience
5.Use your experience.
#14 Getting back to life but with my inner Deming on mute
My life was back to track.
I joined work.Routine continued. Work continued. Chores continued. Life continued.
Everything looked same as it was before ectopic.
But probably, you are never the same person after an ectopic pregnancy. As I write this line, I remember a write up by Elaine Keogh featured in The Irish Times; Tiny lives,big impacts: 'You are never the same after an ectopic pregnancy'.
When I read it, I could relate to every word in it; in most crudest and most refined ways, ironically both at the same time.
While my pre and post ectopic life appeared similar on surface, there was a
major transformation that had taken place deep down under.
There was a paradigm shift in my approach towards myself and towards life.
I made it a point to be compassionate towards myself. I still did every single thing that I was doing previously but with my inner Deming on mute. My husband contributed a lot towards this transformation. He would always interfere and rescue whenever he saw me exerting.
He would pop his head and block my vision if he would find me reading late night.
He would hinder with his palm in front of camera lens, if he would see I am already overworked and still hula hooping to capture pictures for my journal. He would call me and tell me not to cook as he will be bringing food parcel with him. It again was difficult for me to accept that I am not fit enough to cook three time meals every single day. That, it is ok if the home is messy. That, it is ok if the balcony is not clean. I accepted them as they were and made time for them at my convenience.
I even noticed a change in the way I conversed with people. A change in the type of conversation I had. The conversation that I entered was no more limited to routine ramblings, food, news or weather. It was more focused towards life experiences. Words like 'dreams', 'aspirations', 'obstacles', 'motivation', 'life' frequented my conversations.To my surprise, everyone had so much to share about these life insights. People were not like me, happy-in-my-cocoon-types. For most of the people I met, sharing came handy.
More sharing means more expression. I discovered latent potential of human
interaction. The more I talked to people, the better world I reached.
I thought of reaching out to more and more people.
Thought of conversing more and more about life insights.
Thought of doing something with these insightful conversations?
But what and how?
#14 The project- Ectoria
Reaching out to people. Fine.
Sharing life insights.Fine.
But what next?
What is in it for the world?
To reach out to world and impact lives, I needed a platform where I can share all those conversations. I kept working on it and developed a prototype.I drew conversations into interview format.
I was clear what I wanted to build.
The prototype looked something similar to yourstory.com.
But when I saw it going close to yourstory concept-wise; I asked myself, is it really needed? Yourstory is already doing it. That too in brilliant ways. Secondly, they are such a big name . How can I even think of starting something similar? Moreover, I am already in a full time job and that too in Public Sector. How do I design this project to fit it into my current job? How do I make it something that serves its purpose and still remain within my limits?
I kept thinking about it and following two independent yet interdependent events overlapped my thought process:
(i) It was a typical week day morning. I was about to sit for breakfast.
All ready to eat and leave.
For most of us, this part of the morning; getting ready and leaving for office has default settings.
Same sounds, same background, same events, in same order.
Played podcast, went to kitchen, sat to eat breakfast.
I was in middle of breakfast that I felt my ears crazily adjusting themselves to receive some distant sound signals. Remember how dogs do!
And I heard that voice on podcast, ".......employees find ways to add meaningful tasks into their workday on their own. Instead of waiting for a boss to assign new projects or for a promotion, they ask themselves what can I do to the job right now to make that work more meaningful? It might be something like finding a part of your day when you are helping people, or it might be finding tasks that let you use your best, favorite skills. The point is, you just do these things and make them a part of your job...."
These words gave me much needed direction that I was seeking for days.
The voice belonged to Amy Wrzesniewski, Professor, Yale School of Management as she was speaking on ways to craft one's job.
It was a Eureka moment for me.
My mind ship now looked navigated. I now knew how to go ahead with this. I conceived an idea of developing my project as something that I will do in addition to my regular job and will make it a part of my job. Something like an intrapreneurial venture.
Frankly speaking, I already was a self-proclaimed intrapreneur. I thought so because of the baby steps that I always took in my job. Be it about steps to minimise stationery charges, step to form a structured system for tracking of evaluations reports of executives and many other.
Even the background of my Linkedin profile read intrapreneur upto few days
I changed that background very recently.
Changed it when I truly realised the gravity of this word.
Changed it after I realised what insane amount of time and energy it takes to undertake to build something like this.
This was the first time ever I thought of an intrapreneurial venture and what I entered into was a beautiful world of corporate entrepreneurship.
(ii) Once, I was all sure about my venture, I went crazy researching and
ideating things. While I was on my spree, I came across this brilliant thing.
This was an office memorandum of Department of Public Enterprise. The
memorandum talked about a recommendation made by Parliamentary Committee. A
part of that recommendation read 'The Committee stresses upon the need for
adequate avenues to be made available for the women employees, in order to
facilitate experience sharing, confidence building etc'. Memorandum also
praised State Bank of India for SBI Aspirations, the intra office blog of
I got little picky and focused on 'adequate avenues', 'experience sharing' and 'confidence building' as the phrases which perfectly matched my idea.
And on seeing these phrases in a ministerial document, an old adage rung in my mind; "You attract what you focus on."
Wait. Wait. I am little distracted at this point. I have something to share.Keeping my project talk on hold for a minute.
When I read about SBI Aspirations, I wanted to know more about it. While
looking for its model, access requirements and other SBI stuff, I bumped on an
article about Arundhati Bhattacharya, Chairperson, SBI.
Through that article, I came to know she lives in Mumbai whereas her husband lives in Kolkata and that he visits her often. After reading this I started drawing parallels and consoled myself, "See Purvi, same situation; even a person of her stature does not get to live with her husband out of job compulsions. See, where she has reached. Visiting spouse during leave is norm these days. It is ok that you and your husband get to meet only during leave, that it is ok to meet for a short time and move apart."
After all this mind chatter, I thought was this really needed? Was it not absolutely unnecessary?
As I began thinking about the reason for this mind chatter, I went a step ahead and thought about this practical yet painful situation where life partners have to live away from each other due to different job locations. As more and more of us are becoming selective with our jobs, this trend is picking up like never before.
Yes, I am one of this tribe, while I am writing this second part of my story; I am sitting all on my own, in my 'Sarkari Quarter' located in a coalfields (Kakri) in Uttar Pradesh, my workplace.
I wrote first part of my story when I was in Hubli, my husband's work
Notice how frequently I had to use 'my husband', 'my husband' everywhere in that part of the story.
But now I can't.
He gradually disappeared from my story.
That made me think; may be, I got some sadistic joy in knowing that SBI's
chairperson too doesn't get to live with her husband due to different job
locations. (I know. I know, that it not right or moral-studies like thing to
have such mean thoughts. But they did cross my mind)
In 2014, I almost quit this job but my boss on professional front and my father on personal front talked me out of it
Today, I am thankful to my father, my boss and my friends who prevented me from quitting this job and helped me undo my decision.
How could I even think of quitting without serving a better purpose!
This world is full of talented people.
Every single person on this earth has one or the other talent.
Every one of us are good at one thing or the other.
That ways, talent is not uncommon but opportunity is.
Yes, opportunity is uncommon.
Not everyone gets an opportunity.
Working in Coal India Limited is an opportunity.
With opportunity comes responsibility.
Responsibility to maximise the impact of opportunity.
What an absolute dishonor would it be if I have opportunities that others don't and I do not make use of them.
And as they say, nothing in life is random, I am fortunate to have stayed put.
Now I go back to where I was, before getting
I already was fully inspired with those two events.
What two events?
A quick reminder:
First- podcast-Amy Wrzesniewski-employees-finding new tasks-use skills.
Second-ministerial document-matching phrases-experience sharing-confidence building.
Back on course, I connected these two inspirations and launched my project. Though I did not think that I was ready to do that but still I launched it at a very small level.
When it came to naming it, I settled on 'ectoria'; a portmanteau for ectopic
euphoria but on searching for it I found, it was already a name of some e-commerce site.
Having a .in(dot in) domain of same name for which a .com (dot com) already exists is an established mistake.
I knew I was going to make a mistake.
A mistake which would severely hamper my listings. Despite that, I finalised it.
I could not compromise on name.
It carried a deeper meaning for me.
If I had not suffered an ectopic, I would have never learned about
importance of sharing one's thoughts.
If I had not learned about importance of sharing, I would have never reached this state of euphoria.
If I would have not reached this state of euphoria, I would have never founded ectoria.
As I am approaching end of this story, I want to be honest about this one thing. The project is in public domain even before it is ready. This is because today on 20.01.2016, if I try to find something on job crafting and intrapreneurship, the examples do not yield specific results from our country.Though there are scholarly articles on it but practical applications are rare to find. Despite this, I forsee an uptick in this space as more of us dote on to add more meaning to our jobs.
That is one major reason I am live with this project before it is fully ready. I want people with better positions, better resources, better ideas and top of all better reach to come up with fabulous projects and claim this largely unclaimed niche in India.I hope some inputs like (i) Concept of job crafting by Ami Wrzesniewski (ii) Office Memorandum of Department of Public Enterprise might help in this regard.
Coming back to my project, the website might look patchy and may go down from time to time.The site currently features very few conversations that I have developed so
far into interview format.
I am very weak at technical part of websites and always rely on google and friends for it, spend lot of time but still fall short of something or the other. But I am working on it continuously.
Every day, I will try to push it an inch closer to what I have pictured Ectoria to be in longer run.
The project is now live.
Ectoria is now live.
It can be reached at ectoria.in
I pitched it before my authorities at my place of posting. They endorsed it!
A pitch! That too, in a Public Sector Undertaking.
That too by an existing employee.
That too in front of her own bosses.
True, life takes unimaginable turns!
I get goosebumps even at a thought of it.
No matter how small ectoria currently is, it gives me satisfaction.
Satisfaction of having started something.
It is just a beginning.
This was my story.
Story about how my life reshaped after I became a-one-day -Mom. Something that changed me forever.
Taking a cue from a remark by a senior, unfortunately it took a tragic incident in my life to discover that writing is a way expression. For me it was a lesson. Lesson that taught me 'Sharing helps. Expression cures and Communication is bliss.'
I would never suggest someone to go looking for some life threatening condition to get lessons of life. But let us not lose the opportunity of learning from hardships. Hardships may be physical, emotional, financial, or related to any other aspect of life. Let us try and learn from our experience.
And experiences of others as well.
Let us hear more from each other.
Let us share more of ourselves.
Alone we are strong, together we are invincible.