Take a break!

No matter how busy you are take some time out for yourself every day

It was my mother who first modelled self-care to me — even though I was too young at that time to recognise it for what it was. We lived in a joint family with my grandparents and running a household of seven people with minimal help was a full-time job for her. But in the midst of all that chaos, my mother still found ways to carve out some time for herself. 

For one thing, she would wake up every morning around 3 am when the rest of the household was asleep. She would have a long leisurely bath, she would do her (very elaborate) puja, she would make a cup of tea for herself. And then, having had some quality time to herself, she would slip back into bed until it was time to wake everyone up and start another long day. 

She also had another daily ritual, which was totally immutable. After she had made lunch, made sure everyone was fed, and that the kitchen was clean, at exactly 2 pm she would retire to her room and lock the door. I never knew what she did in there. She could have been reading a book. She could have been taking a nap. All she would say is that she was not to be disturbed until 4 pm when she would unlock the door and emerge to organise evening tea for the family. 

Even as a child I realised that this time was sacrosanct to her. And that I should not intrude on her in these two hours on pain of death (or, even, if I was actually dying!). This was her me-time — not that we used that phrase in those days — and all of us needed to respect that. And that, we certainly did. 

Those early lessons in self-care left me with a life-long insistence on making time for myself no matter how busy my life got. When I was editing the features section of a newspaper and had long days at work, I would always take an hour out for lunch. I didn’t go out to eat every day, but I did ensure that nobody disturbed me even if I was just eating a sandwich on my desk and decompressing with a book. When I was working on my first novel, Race Course Road, and had tight deadlines to meet, I would always knock off work at around 4 pm to take a walk. It could be just around the neighbourhood or I would venture to Sunder Nursery or Lodi Gardens to let both my legs and my mind wander. That break, in retrospect, was critical in ensuring that I didn’t get overwhelmed by the enormity of the task I had embarked on. 

When it comes to self-care, though, it’s the quality of time that matters not the quantity. Even taking 15 minutes off in the course of the day to listen to music, do the crossword, try your hand at the day’s Wordle, or just make yourself of a cup of coffee which you sip at leisure, makes you feel less stressed. 

Taking a break makes sure that you don’t break. Don’t take my word for it, though. Try it for yourself and see what a difference it makes. 

Solo act

Don't feel scared to set out on your own; its easier than you think!

It was while I was travelling in Egypt last week that I first noticed it. Even though I was surrounded by people who were on holiday with their spouses, children, extended family or large groups of friends, they all acted as if they were vacationing alone. 

At dinner, there was the nuclear family at the next table where both the children were rapt watching videos on their respective iPads with their earphones on while their parents scrolled social media idly on their phones. Next day as I trundled through a museum I saw couples caught up in taking selfies of themselves in front of important antiquities, acting as if the other person didn’t exist. At historical sites, members of large groups gravitated to different corners, doing their own thing until it was time to board the bus back to their hotel. 

They may have come on holiday with other people but all of them were essentially solo travellers, concentrating only on what pleased them and treating their co-passengers with what could most charitably be called benign neglect.

Once I became aware of this trend, it was hard to ignore it. The more I observed the people around me the more I realised that nobody really seemed to care about the other people sharing their vacation; they were only really focused on doing what they pleased. 

And that set me thinking. Why is it that people are so wary — even scared — of solo vacations, given that most vacations these days are ‘solo’ anyway? 

Is it that we seek safety in numbers, and once we have that we feel secure enough to go off and do our own thing? Is it that we are embarrassed to admit that we don’t have a family or friends that are close enough to holiday with us? Or is it that we feel that we will be treated as curiosities as solo travellers in a world that sees so few?

Which perhaps explains why most people who are holidaying alone sign up with travel agencies to travel with complete strangers rather than be brave enough to admit that they are fine — even happy — with their own company. If you ask me, I would pay good money not to vacation with a group of unknowns. I would rather be pitied as a sad loner than have to make nice-nice with people I will never see again in my life (frankly, the very thought is exhausting!). 

So if you are one of those people who is experiencing trepidation at the thought of heading out on holiday alone, I have three words of advice: Just Do It. 

Grab your suitcase or backpack, book your ticket, reserve a hotel room at the destination of your choice, and head out to an adventure of your very own. Pack a good book to keep you company, keep an open mind to any new experiences, and make the most of your me-time. 

If you feel any embarrassment at all about being on your own, remember that all those people around you, allegedly travelling with their loved ones, are essentially on their own anyway. 

And that, in fact, means that you are not alone — not by any measure! 

Do not disturb

We all need some me-time to get through the day; don’t apologize for it

The hours of two to four in the afternoon were sacrosanct in my childhood home, ever since I can remember. The moment the clock struck two, my mother – having finished the lunch shift in the kitchen – would retire to her bedroom and shut the door on the world. She would emerge from her siesta at 4 pm sharp, to get tea and snacks for the whole household.

But for those two hours, she was not available for anyone or anything. That was her time. And all of us kids – and the adults – understood full well that to knock on her door during this period for any reason whatsoever would bring the wrath of the Gods upon our heads.

As a child, I lived for this interlude in the day. This was the time that I could sneak out with my neighbourhood friends for a bit of rough and tumble. And so long as I got myself back home at five minutes to four, all would be well. No matter what misadventures I got up to, my mom would be none the wiser.

So as far as I was concerned, this two-hour hiatus was the highlight of the day, when I could roam unsupervised, read books that I had expressly been forbidden from touching, and generally get up to no good at all.

It’s only now that I am all grown-up and my mother has departed from this world that I think back on how precious that time must have been for her.

This was a woman who looked after a large joint family with minimal help. She cooked three meals for the household everyday (and separate food for my grandmother, who did not eat onions or garlic). She looked after two ageing in-laws, one husband, and three kids. She ironed our uniforms, got our school lunches ready, and made sure that we had done our homework. She woke early in the morning to get us off to school and then stayed up late making us strong cups of tea so that we could study late into the night.

But in the course of each mad, maddening day, she had the good sense to carve out a moment of time for herself. To this day, I don’t know what she did during those two hours. Did she have a little nap to refresh herself for the rigors of evening kitchen duty? Did she use this time to catch up on her reading? Did she sit cross-legged on the floor and meditate? Or did she do all of this – and more? I simply don’t know.

The only thing that is clear to me, with the benefit of hindsight, that it was those two hours that enabled my mother to get through the rest of the day, where she did not have a minute to call her own. It was that tiny interlude of peace and solitude that allowed her to retain her sanity. It was that breather that gave her a second wind to carry her through to the night. It was that me-time, or as some like to call it, alone-time, that gave a still point to her ever-spinning day.

Even without realizing it, I have incorporated that same habit into my own life. Just like my mother, I crave a few hours of solitude during the day, when I can be alone with my thoughts, maybe catch up on my reading, or just go for walk and empty my mind of all the clutter and white noise of modern life.

Unlike my mother, I don’t have fixed hours in the day to do that. But then, unlike her, I don’t have the demands of in-laws or a brood of children to contend with, and nor do I have an extended family to build my schedule around. Working for myself, as I do, I have the flexibility to steal a few hours out of every day for myself alone. And it is that luxury of me-time that allows me to get through even the most stressful of days without feeling overwhelmed.

No matter how hectic the day has been, if I can steal an hour at bedtime to read a few chapters of a good book, I go to sleep quite content with my lot. Even if I have a writing deadline weighing on me (in fact, especially when I have a writing deadline weighing one me), I still take the time to step away from my desk and go for a walk. And unlike my mother – who cooked so much and so often that it turned into a chore – I often end a long day by cooking a meal for my husband and myself, the gentle rhythm of chopping and stirring serving as my own kind of meditation. 

Whenever I do that, I find my thoughts straying back to my mother and her two to four pm ‘siesta’. No matter how mad the whirl of life got, she knew that she needed that time to make herself whole. And she took that time for herself, without apology, without explanation, and without the slightest trace of shame.

How I wish more women followed her lead, practicing self-care with the same patience and affection that they bestow on the care of others. Not only would they be happier for it, but so would their families.