What are habits and addictions? Can one win over habits and addictions? How should one go about winning over oneself?
Bharat Bhushan - 14 January 2009
Not all habits and addictions are about smoking or drinking or indulging in adultery or gambling. There are several more, regular, day-to-day, very normal activities that we get accustomed to that become our habits and grow into our addictions. And when we are challenged with a break in the routine, we get irritated, angry, upset and determined to achieve that addiction. In order to do so, we have many reasonable and rational arguments, or so it seems, and we are suddenly a victim to our own logic and escape routes.
My father had unique habits and addictions. In our 320 square feet - one bedroom kitchen ground floor apartment at Wadala, Mumbai, the kitchen flowed into the bedroom, and it converted into a living room when everyone had woken up. My father would wake up the earliest, and go into the kitchen, which could be seen by everyone who was sleeping in the living room. He would start washing the dirty leftover utensils from the previous nights' dinner, and he would do it very quietly. No noise. I know that is impossible, but he would do it, nevertheless. After that, he would boil the milk and make coffee for everyone, and a bottle of warm milk for my elder daughter, Harini.
She would have woken up, 2-3 years old, and would be watching him quietly, patiently. He would know that she was watching him, and would keep turning back and would mime the work that he was doing, that he was boiling milk, and now he was waiting for it to cool down, and that he was washing the drinking bottle and now he was pouring the milk into it, and then he would carefully step over one person at a time and bend down and give the bottle of milk to Harini, without waking me or my wife. My mother would have woken up and would be moving about, eager to take over her kitchen.
I once asked him. Why did he do this? Was he not the 'Master' of the house? And like most traditional Indian households, should he not have the women do all the work? Why did he have to wake up the earliest, and clean and wash all the dirty utensils and make coffee for everyone, even if my wife and sister were asleep, why would he make coffee for them? Was it not demeaning to him? He replied, without hesitation, and explained, that - "Washing dirty utensils is the best form of meditation and prayer to God, that there could ever be. Why should I allow anyone else to take away that opportunity from me? This way, I get to do my prayers and meditation at the very early hour, and I get to be happy even if I am selfish."
I never gave it much thought, but after having many escapades in my own life within the family, I have begun to understand what he meant by it. My mother had a different take on the entire situation. She said that he was just joking about meditation and prayer, but that he washed up on all the utensils because he wanted to make sure that my mother would be able to cook breakfast, lunch and dinner without any hassles. He just wanted to make sure that he put her to work before she left for school. These habits and addictions that they had - point out to me now, after so many long long years, how much they loved each other and cared for each other. This love, of wanting to do the dirty work, of having to slog it out in the early hours of the day, is a wonderful habit and addiction in life.
My mother would be sick and of ill-health most of the time. She would find it difficult to get to sleep and she would find it difficult to wake up and get ready. She would find it difficult to lift heavy objects because of the third operation that she had, for her hernia. She would find it difficult to keep standing at the kitchen and work on all the cooking. The heat would bother her, the water would be irritating and the confined premises of the kitchen, only about 24 square feet, with only 10 square feet of standing space, was very bothersome. But, she never ever complained about it. This ability to adjust, and the ability to accept ones' situation, and yet to be disciplined and time-bound, was also an addiction and a major troublesome habit for her. But, she never stopped until the day she retired.
Prayer and worship was another amazing habit and addiction for both my parents. They worshipped every day. My father would clean the prayer place, every day, morning and evening. This is something that I am never able to do so. I should get about to doing so. They had a routine, and it began with the first boiled milk of the day, and the first pouring of drinking water. They took the water and the milk to the deities, and without fail, every day, in the morning, the first thing in the morning, they would convey their thanks to the gods. This habit and persistent repetition, and the humility, is also a habit and addiction that my parents taught me, and unfortunately, something that I am yet to practice.
Bharat Bhushan - 14 January 2009
Not all habits and addictions are about smoking or drinking or indulging in adultery or gambling. There are several more, regular, day-to-day, very normal activities that we get accustomed to that become our habits and grow into our addictions. And when we are challenged with a break in the routine, we get irritated, angry, upset and determined to achieve that addiction. In order to do so, we have many reasonable and rational arguments, or so it seems, and we are suddenly a victim to our own logic and escape routes.
My father had unique habits and addictions. In our 320 square feet - one bedroom kitchen ground floor apartment at Wadala, Mumbai, the kitchen flowed into the bedroom, and it converted into a living room when everyone had woken up. My father would wake up the earliest, and go into the kitchen, which could be seen by everyone who was sleeping in the living room. He would start washing the dirty leftover utensils from the previous nights' dinner, and he would do it very quietly. No noise. I know that is impossible, but he would do it, nevertheless. After that, he would boil the milk and make coffee for everyone, and a bottle of warm milk for my elder daughter, Harini.
She would have woken up, 2-3 years old, and would be watching him quietly, patiently. He would know that she was watching him, and would keep turning back and would mime the work that he was doing, that he was boiling milk, and now he was waiting for it to cool down, and that he was washing the drinking bottle and now he was pouring the milk into it, and then he would carefully step over one person at a time and bend down and give the bottle of milk to Harini, without waking me or my wife. My mother would have woken up and would be moving about, eager to take over her kitchen.
I once asked him. Why did he do this? Was he not the 'Master' of the house? And like most traditional Indian households, should he not have the women do all the work? Why did he have to wake up the earliest, and clean and wash all the dirty utensils and make coffee for everyone, even if my wife and sister were asleep, why would he make coffee for them? Was it not demeaning to him? He replied, without hesitation, and explained, that - "Washing dirty utensils is the best form of meditation and prayer to God, that there could ever be. Why should I allow anyone else to take away that opportunity from me? This way, I get to do my prayers and meditation at the very early hour, and I get to be happy even if I am selfish."
I never gave it much thought, but after having many escapades in my own life within the family, I have begun to understand what he meant by it. My mother had a different take on the entire situation. She said that he was just joking about meditation and prayer, but that he washed up on all the utensils because he wanted to make sure that my mother would be able to cook breakfast, lunch and dinner without any hassles. He just wanted to make sure that he put her to work before she left for school. These habits and addictions that they had - point out to me now, after so many long long years, how much they loved each other and cared for each other. This love, of wanting to do the dirty work, of having to slog it out in the early hours of the day, is a wonderful habit and addiction in life.
My mother would be sick and of ill-health most of the time. She would find it difficult to get to sleep and she would find it difficult to wake up and get ready. She would find it difficult to lift heavy objects because of the third operation that she had, for her hernia. She would find it difficult to keep standing at the kitchen and work on all the cooking. The heat would bother her, the water would be irritating and the confined premises of the kitchen, only about 24 square feet, with only 10 square feet of standing space, was very bothersome. But, she never ever complained about it. This ability to adjust, and the ability to accept ones' situation, and yet to be disciplined and time-bound, was also an addiction and a major troublesome habit for her. But, she never stopped until the day she retired.
Prayer and worship was another amazing habit and addiction for both my parents. They worshipped every day. My father would clean the prayer place, every day, morning and evening. This is something that I am never able to do so. I should get about to doing so. They had a routine, and it began with the first boiled milk of the day, and the first pouring of drinking water. They took the water and the milk to the deities, and without fail, every day, in the morning, the first thing in the morning, they would convey their thanks to the gods. This habit and persistent repetition, and the humility, is also a habit and addiction that my parents taught me, and unfortunately, something that I am yet to practice.
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