Wednesday, December 10, 2008

Now is all I've got

Pakshalika, my elder daughter, is turning seven this Saturday. Of course, for her the countdown to her Birthday (read party) began in November itself. Last year we'd just moved from Delhi so she didn't have many friends but it's different this time. She's got too many friends- so much so that Sunil and I had to set an upper limit to the number of people she can possibly call to her B'day Party. However, after 26/11 happened, I started wondering about the propriety of having a party. I didn't feel like celebrating but at the same time I didn't have the heart to tell Pakshalika that we couldn't have a party for her this year. I just kept putting off making the essential list of guests, deciding on the menu and all on one pretext or the other. I kept telling myself that I was too busy and would eventually do it.
However through all my procrastination, both my daughters kept planning and planning. Then last Saturday when the kids and Sunil had gone off to sleep, I sat down with a pen and paper and generally started scribbling. I knew I had to do something. Then suddenly it struck me. One of the most important duties is my duty towards my kids. I need to teach them the value of being happy, of being there 'in' the moment...though I know that's something I need to learn from them. And I also realised, perhaps for the first time that I need to do this for myself more than for them. Of course I know that life goes on and that we have no option but to move on with it or else we lose sync. But more than that I now realise that one can not be sure of the future- hell, one can not be sure of the next moment. But one can definitely celebrate now and live it up to the hilt. It's for this reason that I'll be celebrating Pakshalika's Birthday this time and for all times to come. It will be my way of expressing gratitude for the fact that I'm blessed with a wonderful family and that God has given me the most wonderful gift of all- the gift of love. But most of all, it'll be a reminder of the simple fact that NOW IS ALL I'VE GOT!!

Tuesday, December 2, 2008

The People's Democracy

What has the largest democracy in the world come to? Democracy by virtue of it's definition is the govenment OF the people, BY the people and FOR the people. In a nutshell, the whole system revolves around people, namely the citizens of the country. Or, at least it should. On the contrary, we have managed to evolve a new mutant of democracy wherein once the people have cast their vote, they become part of the teeming millions who are treated like well, what can I say, numbers? 

At a time when the nation is mourning it's dead and our hearts aching for the several hundred injured and the affected families, we have senior politicians passing statements that no thinking man would dream of. We have the Dep CM of Maha, the state where the carnage took place and he says something to the effect that in big cities (read Mumbai) one or two such incidents can happen and it in no way signifies failure of the system. The next day the CM Maha, visits the battered Taj hotel with his son Ritiesh Deshmukh 'the Star' and the 'Star Director' RGV as part of his entourage. And while countering the public outcry against such insensitivity, he clarifies that RGV is not a terrorist! And by the way, his son simply accompanied his Dad because he was plain curious. Curious to see what it was like for hundreds of people to have been trapped in that hell hole or maybe curious to see how a film script could be made out of the first hand images he saw with his director friend. The same gentleman, if I may call him that, the CM told in an interview to some reporters that in the CWC meeting he had offered to resign IF he was responsible for what happened and that the Queen Bee and the PM's decision would be final. "If" he's responsible??? The man has a doubt on that account?! And it's as if what Sonia Gandhi thinks is the only thing that matters.

Then we have Mr. Mukhtar Abbas Naqvi VP, BJP who reacts to the people protesting against the insensitivity of these same politicians and he goes on record to say that women putting on lipstick and powder and men in suits and ties holding candles, following western culture are not the voice of the nation. 

So, we the educated class have no business criticising the politicians simply because we don't count. And why not? Because he thinks (maybe rightly so) that the people who actually matter at the time of elections are the poor, illiterate people who'll be blindly lured by the lies that our dear politicians serve them and will lap up whatever they are offered in exchange of their vote- cash, blankets, clothes, poori-aaloo, a free ride to the polling booth...well the incentives are many.

But in this whole sickening scenario the guy who takes the cake is the Kerala CM Achutanandan who was snubbed and refused entry by Maj. Sandeep Unnikrishnan's father who didn't want the crocodile tears of politicos marring his son's martyrdom. The man had the audacity to claim that had it not been for Sandeep's being a martyr not even a dog what have glanced in the direction of their home. If this is not treason, what is? How can our democratic system be a mute spectator to all this and still carry on?

Fact is, no matter what we say, no matter how strongly we react, we can't turn a leaf. Because we don't count. And the powers that be won't let us be counted. It is said that extreme situations require extreme measures. The time has come, I guess for extreme measures.

Friday, November 28, 2008

26/11

Will somebody please explain/ rationalise/ decode/ make sense out of what's happening in Mumbai in particular and India in general? I doubt there's a single aware individual who's unaffected today by the sheer horror of what's happening around us. It's an incredibly crazy situation that scares the hell out of you. What do I tell my 7 year old daughter who woke up today morning at 6 o'clock and caught us watching the news...What could I have said to her when she held my hand and asked me if all this was ever going to stop or if this was going to be a part of her life. I don't want my kids to grow up in the shadow of this senseless terror, none of us do. But is there a way out? Even at the risk of sounding pessimistic, I have to confess that today I feel hopelessly helpless. One goes to bed with news of a terror attack and wakes up with even more shocking updates. The day is spent surfing numerous sites and flipping channels, calling up friends to enquire about their well being. What kind of a life is this? What kind of a democracy is this where the most fundamental of human rights, the right to life is not valued at all? The whole thing is like one big joke. The terrorists take over the financial capital of the country, do as they like, go where they wish to, kill whoever happens to cross their path and all we are left with are a couple of images and two minutes of footage of some guy wearing a "Versace polo neck sweatshirt and a sling bag" walking out of CST after indiscriminately shooting at about 20 odd people. What about the hostages, the guests who were out to have a nice dinner with their family and friends to unwind after a hard day's work or people travelling on business whose families will never see them again? What about the Taj GM whose entire family got wiped out in one freak twist of fate? What about the 125 people who are dead and gone, the 300 odd injured? And that's just the loss we can account for, the loss we can quantify. What about the intangible damage in the form of fear psychosis, distrust and loss of faith? What about the innumerable questions that need urgent answers? Who is responsible for us, to us? Can we even think of relying on the system anymore to protect our very lives and those of our loved ones?
The head is swimming with the images of the day. I pray with all my heart for the people going through this ordeal, the hostages, their families and all the victims of this mindless violence. 

The only thing that makes sense is what seems most unattainable at the moment....the words of Rabindranath Tagore:

Where the mind is without fear and the head is held high;
Where knowledge is free;
Where the world has not been broken up into fragments by narrow domestic walls;
Where words come out from the depth of truth;
Where tireless striving stretches its arms towards perfection;
Where the clear stream of reason has not lost its way into the dreary desert sand of dead habit;
Where the mind is led forward by thee into ever-widening thought and action--
Into that heaven of freedom, my Father, let my country awake.
Amen!

Tuesday, November 4, 2008

Meanest to Those We Love Most

We are meanest to the people we love. It’s surprising how complacency catches up with the best of us. After having spent years and years with someone we love, we start taking things for granted and stop making concessions for the fact that with every living breath we are all evolving, changing. Two people sharing space, time are supposed to share their ideas, ideals, plans and dreams as well. Yet the operative word is ‘two’ and two is not one. As long as we try to be unified in our aspirations and keep moving in the same general direction, we assume that everything is fine between us. But then sometimes, we get a rude shock when we find that somewhere along the road, we have changed to such an extent that we have stopped relating to each other except at a very superficial level. We are holding hands but our hearts are somewhere else. Our priorities have changed and then we do and say things that are deliberately meant to hurt the one we love the most. In our desperation to work things out yet not willing to ‘give in’, we hope that our partner will look beyond our mask of indifference, anger and frustration. This is the beginning of the end for a lot many relationships….when two individuals instead of focussing on their togetherness, start focussing on their individuality. The “I, me and mine” suddenly starts dictating terms and everything else takes a back seat. And that’s where the actual challenge starts. Trying to get through to the one you love when you know it’s not going to be easy. Not giving up on the other person even when they have given up on themselves…

When I say we are meanest to the people we love, I’m not just referring to two lovers or a married couple, but even our children, our parents… The day we become parents, we hold our baby in our arms and filled with pride, happiness and gratitude promise to ourselves and the little being in our lap that we’ll love her/ him to the best of our abilities and take care of them and always keep them happy. I have yet to meet a parent who hasn’t felt that way, yet let a few years go by and the charm’s gone…. We treat our kids worse than we would a stranger. We are after them all the time, judging them, admonishing them, pulling them down and breaking their confidence. And we do it with a sense of duty, almost an obligation telling ourselves that what we are doing is eventually for their good. And even if it saddens us, we still ‘have to’ do it because we are their parents, responsible for disciplining them, correcting their behaviour and what not. And the kids, oh, they break our hearts by their sheer trusting, forgiving nature. They go on loving us in their own pure, innocent way. It is said that the only true and unconditional love in the world is that of a mother for her child. I beg to differ. I think there exists another love that’s equally pure and unconditional if not more. It’s the love our children shower upon us day in and day out. Parents judge their children by standards of excellence in academics, sports, performing arts, something or the other. Some scale is always there. But do our children ever judge us? Atleast not as long as they are children. They won’t love us any less if we were just a graduate or even illiterate. They won’t love us any more even if we were the President or a superstar. They won’t love us any different if we were not as good looking as we are or more. That’s love and that’s beyond us grown ups. That’s what we need to learn and relearn all the time. Yet we are always too busy teaching things to our children rather than learning from them.

On days when I’m very upset with my kids about something, I try to recall the first time I laid my eyes on them. It’s that feeling that puts things into perspective for me. I remember the time when just their health, well being and happiness was of utmost importance to me rather than their success or their behaviour… that of course does not absolve me of my duty as a parent but it sure as hell reminds me not to take their presence in my life for granted. I try to make sure they don’t feel unloved when all I’m trying to do is checking them for some small inconsequential wrong doing of theirs.

The battle between loving and not loving goes on….and I’m not giving up - not now, not ever.

Saturday, October 18, 2008

The Beginning of Death

Sometimes in life when you seem to have everything you wished for and you think it couldn’t be better, life’ll throw such a surprise at you, you won’t know what hit you. Sometimes just as you start getting a little complacent and start to take things a little easy, life catches you by your shoulders, shakes you up. Then it turns around…throws you a smirk and half a smile and walks away. All you are left with is a pain so solid you think you can see it and touch it but you can’t get it off you. It tightens itself around your chest like a large hungry python and ties itself into a knot. Then it starts crushing your body, your bones….you can feel it’s intensity right through to your heart and it keeps worsening till it has sucked the very life out of you. You are out cold, senseless, formless, soulless with nothing but a look of wonder and extreme horror in your eyes.

Sometimes when you think you’ve got love and that’ll set everything right, destiny and fate teach you a dirty lesson. That sometimes love too isn’t enough. A person you love dearly goes through turbulent times and no matter how much you love that person you can’t reach out to them. You can empathise but you can’t lessen their pain. And the pain and sadness in them won’t let your love get anywhere near them. Pain and suffering are two such black holes. They’ll swallow every other emotion the person comes in contact with. When they are dwelling in you, they won’t let any light of joy and happiness in. What could be worse than seeing your very loved one fall into the abyss or go over the edge? I think what’s worse is when you can see what’s happening and yet do zilch about it.

There are times when prayers don’t work, good wishes don’t work, companionship doesn’t work, talking doesn’t work, love doesn’t work….What is one to do then? Let go or hold on? Definitely not the former. After all this one life is so precious to you. But how does one reach out? How does one convince the other person that they are needed, loved and treasured? And to top it all, if there’s physical distance between you, what does one do then? You can’t see them, can’t reach over and hug them or hold them tight, give their arm a reassuring squeeze…

It is then that the dark pain in that other person laughs out loud, coz it’s got you now. It’s powers are doubled because now it has two bodies to dwell in. You are as sad as your loved one. It’s going strong…It’s winning this tug-of-war. Soon your whole world will be engulfed by this darkness and you won’t know what to do.

Then there will come a time when you won’t know whether you gave birth to this monster or vice versa….

There will be a time when you won’t know anything apart from this. It’ll be your second nature, your lord, your master.

It’ll have taken over you, your soul, your spirit.

You will be one with it…..and that’ll be the end of life and the beginning of death….

Wednesday, October 15, 2008

Teachers vs. Mentors (I choose the latter)

This evening my sister in law told me she was looking for some poems about 'bees' for kids of grade 1-3 . As I surfed the net and went through several poetry sites, I stumbled upon this poem. I found it especially heartwarming, sweet and relevant. Here goes:

WHEN YOU THOUGHT I WASN’T LOOKING
By Mary Rita Schilke Korzan
When you thought I wasn’t looking, you displayed my first report, and I wanted to do another.
When you thought I wasn’t looking, you fed a stray cat, and I thought it was good to be kind to animals.
When you thought I wasn’t looking, you gave me a sticker, and I knew that little things were special things.
When you thought I wasn’t looking, you put your arm around me, and I felt loved.
When you thought I wasn’t looking I saw tears come from your eyes, and I learned that sometimes things hurt--but that it’s all right to cry.
When you thought I wasn’t looking, you smiled, and it made me want to look that pretty too.
When you thought I wasn’t looking, you cared, and I wanted to be everything I could be.
When you thought I wasn’t looking--I looked...and wanted to say thanks for all those things you did when you thought I wasn’t looking.

I have always felt blessed to be so closely associated with kids of various age groups and consider myself extremely fortunate to have someone like Sunil around who has a penchant for connecting with kids, especially teenagers. But reading this piece of poetry set me thinking about just how special a teacher is to a child. Recent times have seen an increased use of the word "mentor"~ it's the mentor who makes the child want to put his/her best foot forward, the mentor who guides the child in his journey of self discovery amd self actualisation, the mentor who's always there for the child, who hears him/her out and finally, the mentor is the person the child seeks out to confide in and places immense trust in. But aren't we missing something here? Isn't this the role of any caring, aware and dedicated teacher? Shouldn't all teachers be concerned about their student's life and be aware of what's going on there? If a student approaches a teacher to resolve a doubt he may have in an academic subject, shouldn't he also feel free to approach that same teacher if he's not sure what to do with his life? Sadly, that's not the case. I guess in this day and age, it's a very utopian thought to imagine a teacher knowing all the children in his/ her class personally and playing an active role in grooming them as responsible, young social beings.

These mentors however exist. And they are not mere figments of my imagination. I only wish there were more of these around, people who touch and transform children's lives when they come into contact with them. Col. Satsangi, the founder Chairman of the boarding school we worked at was one such person. The faith he had in all the kids in his school and the firm belief that every single one of them was going to be a success is what drove the kids to perform and many a times outdo even their teachers' and parents' expectations.

That is the kind of spirit and zeal I wish all teachers had. As for me and Sunil, in every batch of class XII back in Delhi there have been kids who were extremely close to us and are even now, a part of our extended family. We refer to them as our 'adopted sons and daughters' (regardless of the fact that many of them have finished their college education and are working themselves :-))
The satisfaction and fulfillment one feels when they call or visit is nothing less than what we would feel for our own kids. The pride that's in my heart at having such a rewarding relationship with so many youngsters is unparalleled. And it's amazing how much we have received from these kids in terms of their love and trust. It is said that teenagers are most open and honest with adults younger than their own parents. I only wish by the time our daughters grow up, there are some such people around who'll guide them, support them, not judge them and just be there for them. But then, I know with so many of our 'adopted' kids around, I don't really need to worry on that one account.

Tuesday, October 14, 2008

Mom, I'm proud of you!

My Mom turns sixty today. No blog of mine could ever be complete without my writing about her, her achievements, her quiet strength and her indomitable spirit. Those of you who've known my Mom for long or have met her briefly would agree when I say that she is a lady of few words. She prefers to keep to herself but has a steely determination with which she has always stood by my father. I for one, have always marvelled at her committment, her resolve and her strength of character. She likes to stay low key and doesn't mind being in the background. I am now mature enough to understand and appreciate the confidence and poise it takes to be yourself and not yearn for public approval or recognition. People tell me I take after my extrovert and outgoing father. I take that as a compliment but sometimes I wish I were a little more like my Mom who's never felt the need to project herself or be extremely competitive even in today's cut throat world. Today she turns sixty. Ten days from today she shall be relieved of her charge at BHEL where she's served for the last three decades. And in these thirty years, never have I seen her getting late for her duty, never have I seen her take leave if it weren't really required and never have I seen her take things casually or for granted. She's an extremely conscientious worker and a thorough professional. She's had a meaningful career and I know she'll continue working even post retirement as there is no other way of life for her.

It's a momentous occasion for her and I can only imagine what she must be feeling just now. My heartiest and warmest wishes go out to her. Hats off to you, Mom and a very very Happy Birthday!! I love you.

Monday, October 13, 2008

Honesty: Can we handle it?

One of my primary responsibilities as an Educator is to keep the parents informed about the progress of their wards. One would think that the parents and/or guardians would want that to be the case and would want to know an accurate and true report. But sometimes things happen that shake you up and make you wonder if it is worth it. Why do people only want you to say the things they want to hear?

As a part of our entire education process at our preschool here, we observe each and every child and follow their development rather keenly. It's most essential to do that as a lot of grey areas in a child's physical/ mental/ social/ emotional development can be identified early and in many cases rectified, too. I had a child here at my preschool who's had a rather traumatic first two years of life. He not only witnessed his parents' messy divorce but was tossed around between his paternal and maternal grandparents and never actually got to live peacefully with either parent. Even now, he's staying with his grandparents and the mother works in another city. The child when he came to us, was extremely insecure and could not even hold eye contact even for a few seconds. He would cry and cry really hard every morning for a good half hour or so. While crying, he would throw up his breakfast and generally be very upset and angry. However, with the passage of time, he sort of settled in and like all kids his age was quite happy to be playing and running around, though most of the time he preferred to be by himself and was not really interacting actively with the other kids. We assumed that given a little time, he'd be okay. Then sometime around last month we noticed some pecularities in his behaviour. He was exhibiting repetitive behaviour like running around in circles, running up and down the length of a room, talking to himself etc. After watching this for a couple of days, Sunil and I became slightly concerned and decided that if it continued, we'd inform his grandparents in whose care he presently was. As luck would have it, this child's mother came visiting the same day. I still remember it was a Friday. Now I think it would be relevant to mention here that the child's Mom and his grandfather are both practicing doctors. Nonetheless, I gently mentioned the facts as they were to the mother and told her that we only wanted her to know this at the earliest as these symptoms could be indicative of autism. She broke down and I had to call Sunil to help me talk to her and comfort her. She ruled out the possibility of any disorder and kept saying that the child was okay, if only a little stubborn and moody. Anyway, we kept telling her that it was our duty as educators to inform her and that we too sincerely hoped that it was just a passing phase. She collected her child and went home.

It's been almost 3 weeks and the child hasn't come to school. The child's grandfather is not taking my calls and honestly, I haven't tried the mother's number because deep inside me I know that child is not coming back. His place is just around the corner from my school but I won't be going over to find out why he's been absenting himself. I don't think anything that I say or do now is going to change things. I've known his family for more than 20 years now and that includes his Mom. It may be that being a single parent she's more sensitive and more protective of her child, but then as the child's educator, don't I have any responsibilty or duty towards him? Would she rather that I said only nice and pleasant things about the child and painted a rosy picture? I perfectly understand a mother's love for her child; I am a mother of two myself and I truly believe that motherhood brings out compassion and sensitivity like nothing else. But why do we parents let our judgment get so clouded that we deny reality even when it's staring us in the face? Why do we shut our eyes to the unpleasant things in life and think that we can just wish them away? I don't want to sound very objective and practical because I know that's not really possible where your kids are concerned but shouldn't we do something about the problems facing them rather than look the other way? We all harp on about honesty, but are we really ready to handle it when it is dished out? I don't know how I would have reacted if I had been in that lady's place and I hope that she'll do whatever is needed to make sure her child is fine.

That child may not come back to my school. It's alright. I do hope wherever he is, he is fine and turns out okay. My best wishes to the mother too...

Meanwhile, even though part of me wonders if being honest, communicating, reporting and keeping the parents aware is such a good idea after all, I know that I did the right thing and I'll still keep doing it no matter what.

Saturday, October 11, 2008

I think I hate the net....but do I?

I was in Delhi with hubby and kids for the last 7 days. Thanks to the net, all my friends knew I'd be there, they knew where I was staying, knew how long I was there and it was only through the net that some of them messaged me and told me they would "love to meet up" with me. They somehow never found the time to call or come over and I realised that the net is the most impersonal thing I've ever come across. It lets people lie to you, it lets people tell you things they don't really mean and most of all, it widens the gap between two individuals by giving them the option of not talking to each other and yet sending their messages to and fro. I was reminded of the times when as a kid we would fight with our best friend and then ask another friend to play the messenger. Of course, we were all pretty naive then and did not know the nuances of verbal and non verbal communication. But now that I'm old and mature enough to read between the lines, I understand that the net is just a veil that we cover our faces with so that nobody really knows if we truly mean what we are saying. This whole idea of communicating over a social networking site seems like a farce but I guess sometimes it's better to have this superficial connection with people than no connection at all. I was rather upset and the objects of my annoyance were not only my friends but the internet too which had made it so easy for them to message me and get away with it. (Had they called, they would've had it...) But that was yesterday.

We put up at the boarding school where we used to work (before we moved to Hardwar) as my sister in law is still there. This time we'd gone there with a specific motive in mind. The idea of taking a week long vacation in Delhi was to meet up with old friends (definitely)but most of all we wanted to spend some meaningful time with a young boy (a student of that boarding school) we are extremely close to and who has just gone through a very trying time. We saw that child everyday. He would visit us, play with the kids, have his meal with us and on one occasion even went out of campus with us. All in all, the boy must've spent several hours every day in our company.

Now, he's always been extremely shy and reticent and of course, that's not something that would change overnight. Yet, he spoke to us and smiled at the appropriate places and pauses so much so that I was led into believing that he's fine now and has come to terms with his loss.
The same boy when I spoke to him over the phone just before reaching home, told me that he was writing a mail to my husband and me. We reached home and I checked my mail and could hardly believe my eyes when I saw the longest mail I've ever seen. Not only that, he was online when I was reading his mail. I started to chat with him and for the first time he poured his heart out. We chatted for over 2 hours and he opened up like never before. We talked about his worries, his anxieties, apprehensions, everything and for once I was glad that there's something like the net to connect to people with. Because of the distance and the privacy, the child could express things he would and could never express as long as we were physically there with him. After that long long chat when I finally bid goodbye to him, I could almost feel his relief and I can't put into words how relieved I was. He admitted that it was much easier for him to communicate in this manner and I know that's true.

But where does that leave my feelings for my dear friends? I am still cross at them...they should've called me. However, for all the friends who make false promises over the net , if there is one person who can vent out his feelings through the same medium, I think it's good enough. I can live with that.

How does one do this...!?.

It's my first time here and I'd like to believe that I'm not the only one who is so scared of doing this. In an inspired moment (truly inspired!) I signed up for starting my own blog though I'd been toying with the idea for a long long time. This was sometime last week. With the formalities done, I was quite proud of myself. My joy however, was pretty shortlived. Barely two days after registering (only) and not blogging (haw!), I received a mail that my blog has been identified as potential spam (already??) by google and has been locked.

I have won that battle though and here I am blogging for the first time. I have at least a dozen butterflies in my stomach as I punch the keys and wonder what to write about. I realise that I do need to write in something in order to keep the blog active. Since this is my first entry, I can be quite sure that it'll be read by only those whom I pass on my URL to. Sure enough these will either be childhood/ college friends or people from my family. And I can presume quite safely that they won't mind reading this at all knowing as I do that several of them are thinking of falling into this blogging trap themselves.

I do have a few thoughts in my mind as I get myself initiated into this. Over the coming days, weeks and years (hopefully), I shall be writing in about my experiences as an Early Childhood Educator, about the plans and dreams I share with my husband of setting up an educational facility for the underprivileged, about my life as a mother of two extremely naughty and talented kids and if nothing else then the usual, ordinary, everyday business of life itself.

God be with me!