time to let go

the planet completes one more revolution
in our heliocentric universe
we reach the same place
we started from...
yet things are so different
what we call a year
to many is 365 days
to some just a term
for me it has been the journey of a lifetime
dreams have taken roots
and even as the young sapling of our ambition
reaches out to the skies,
tiny little fledglings are spreading out their wings
a bunch of happy, hopeful and very loved kids
are ready to step out into the world beyond
these kids are mine though they don't belong to me
they are what we stand for,
what we believe in and what we care about
soon enough they'll be gone
yet they'll never leave this space
they are what we have made them....
or maybe we are what they have made us
a year ago i welcomed them into my fold
and forever there will they be
it's a proud moment
it's painful
and it's breaking my heart
it's time for goodbyes
and it's time to let go
it's time for them to find their place under the sun
as the planet completes one more revolution

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!!

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.

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!

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.

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….

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.