I sometime wonder what makes a person good or for that matter wicked? I feel one is made that way. I am good to people because I find it easier to be so. It is not as if I don’t want to be mean. When ever I find myself at the receiving end of some atrocious behavior of a really mean minded person, I do resolve to pay him/her back with a similar if not worse behavior. I rehearse my dialogue and think of some absolutely mean things to say. I try hard to remember how hurt I felt and announce to anyone who cares to listen that enough was enough and that I was not taking it any more. Days go by and within a few days I find myself looking for excuses to justify the person’s behavior. I decide that she perhaps got up from the wrong side of her bed or that her children –brats that they were- must have given her a tough time. He/she must have had a quarrel with his/her spouse and if not anything else the sultry weather was enough to drive one crazy. Finally I end up deciding that the poor thing considers me a close ally. After all one cannot feel free to yell at strangers. If one can feel relieved by venting out their frustration on me I should be matured enough to handle it. Those younger than me ‘know not what they do/say’ and those older than me ‘have a right to’ be so. I now realize that I should have taken up law. I am rather good at finding excuses for people and I seem to defend my offenders better than they would do for themselves. Too late anyway!
With such an attitude is it any wonder that I cannot remain angry with anyone for long?
Jokes apart I really wonder what makes people mean? I know from experience that people like me are a majority. Absolute angels are almost non existent and really wicked people are also few in number. The problem with those who come across as mean is that they nurse a kind of complex that prevents them from acknowledging that they were wrong. Some of them are in reality absolutely smart people, good organizers, and meticulous planners and have many good qualities that they deliberately cover up. They are basically diffident people who cannot take a set back and what better way to hide their lack of confidence than by throwing tantrums at the drop of a hat.
I am so glad to be what I am. I was never a beauty queen and no amount of ‘malish’ and ‘polish’ could ever make me different. It has been such a luxury not having to worry about my appearance all the while. I had a friend who would go back to the hostel and change her dress if someone in the class wore something similar to hers. She had to be told how good she looked each and every day and as teenagers we had fun at her expense and took turns to say so, while the rest of us suppressed a smile or giggled when she was not looking. She was a topper but could not take it, if on a good day (bad perhaps?) someone else got half a mark more than her. I always felt that her energy ought to have been better utilized. Unfortunately she had no friends when she left college and no one bothered to keep in touch with her.
I feel sorry for such people who actually suffer a lot despite having the best in life. They are wary of losing out on non issues most of which are imagined. In their effort to remain supreme they deny themselves the simple pleasures that life offers. I would really like to help them realize that life is too precious to be wasted on trivialities and little acts of kindness fetch great rewards. But here again I must add that what seems trivial to me may not be all that trivial to them. It may be best to let them lead their life the way they want to because I can neither hope to understand their viewpoint nor expect them to understand mine.
Tuesday, July 17, 2007
Tuesday, July 10, 2007
PROGRESSIVE EVOLUTION
Year 1940: Father to son – “ do you know? We went to school only after working for 2 hours in the farm. We ate left over food for breakfast and walked 10 miles however inclement the weather. We learnt multiplication tables before we turned eight. Evenings would be cool even in peak summer and having worked so hard we’d doze off under the baniyan tree after studying for a while. There was no electricity and we used kerosene lamps to study.
Year 1970: Son to grandson – “do you know we walked 2 miles to the nearest bus stop and took the available public transport to school. Five of us sisters and brothers would sit in the courtyard under a common light and do our home work. My mother would make us fetch rice from the ration shop and my sisters would help in the kitchen. We could study in peace only after doing the allotted chores. Tuitions were unheard of and we worked on our own. We used old news papers to fan ourselves in summer.
Year 2000: Grandson to great grandson – We went to school by auto-rickshaw It was only when he failed to turn up that my dad would drop us off at the school gate. My parents took it on themselves to help us with our studies and it was only in higher classes that we dared to ask for tuitions in a subject or two. The study room doubled up for the guest room and most of the time we studied in the bed room or dining space. The only room with a ceiling fan was used by my father to receive friends.
Year 2030: Great great grandson to his friend – “Can you believe this. My father actually went to school to study. So what if he drove a two wheeler from the age of twelve. Online classes and video conferences with experts were unheard of. My great grandfather had to learn multiplication tables by heart and used his fingers for adding up. My father had a calculator with the most primitive features and it was as good as not having one. And people had to actually clear all papers for a pass certificate. To counter this they took tuitions in almost every subject right from Grade 1. Attendance was a must and there was no flexibility in the choice of subject, school timing and timetable. They wore uniforms to school like army men and on top of it carried books to school since online versions were not available and not all children had access to computer education. What a loss of man hours. There was no central AC and it was a rare facility to have an AC in the mmaster bed room. People actually switched off lights manually and locked cars and doors with their hands. I feel really sorry for them. Even if they had been given the facility they could not have put it to use!
Year 1940: Father to son – “ do you know? We went to school only after working for 2 hours in the farm. We ate left over food for breakfast and walked 10 miles however inclement the weather. We learnt multiplication tables before we turned eight. Evenings would be cool even in peak summer and having worked so hard we’d doze off under the baniyan tree after studying for a while. There was no electricity and we used kerosene lamps to study.
Year 1970: Son to grandson – “do you know we walked 2 miles to the nearest bus stop and took the available public transport to school. Five of us sisters and brothers would sit in the courtyard under a common light and do our home work. My mother would make us fetch rice from the ration shop and my sisters would help in the kitchen. We could study in peace only after doing the allotted chores. Tuitions were unheard of and we worked on our own. We used old news papers to fan ourselves in summer.
Year 2000: Grandson to great grandson – We went to school by auto-rickshaw It was only when he failed to turn up that my dad would drop us off at the school gate. My parents took it on themselves to help us with our studies and it was only in higher classes that we dared to ask for tuitions in a subject or two. The study room doubled up for the guest room and most of the time we studied in the bed room or dining space. The only room with a ceiling fan was used by my father to receive friends.
Year 2030: Great great grandson to his friend – “Can you believe this. My father actually went to school to study. So what if he drove a two wheeler from the age of twelve. Online classes and video conferences with experts were unheard of. My great grandfather had to learn multiplication tables by heart and used his fingers for adding up. My father had a calculator with the most primitive features and it was as good as not having one. And people had to actually clear all papers for a pass certificate. To counter this they took tuitions in almost every subject right from Grade 1. Attendance was a must and there was no flexibility in the choice of subject, school timing and timetable. They wore uniforms to school like army men and on top of it carried books to school since online versions were not available and not all children had access to computer education. What a loss of man hours. There was no central AC and it was a rare facility to have an AC in the mmaster bed room. People actually switched off lights manually and locked cars and doors with their hands. I feel really sorry for them. Even if they had been given the facility they could not have put it to use!
Thursday, July 05, 2007
Failed Mission
Till last month I used to pride myself on being an expert in making dosais. In fact dishing out paper thin dosai was the first culinary skill I mastered when I became a full time home maker. So much so I would offer to make dosais at my friends’ places whenever we had a get together.
“How do you manage to make them so effortlessly” my good friend Meera would ask.
I’d be gloating from within but in the most humble tone I’d reply that it was no great achievement and with a little effort she’d be able to master the art herself. She was never confident and I’d offer to make them for her family when time permitted. Those were days when I was not working and TV had not made its entry into our homes. This was a form of entertainment and I would help Meera grind the batter in my manual grinder and prepare masala dosais for her family on many a Sunday evenings. To my children those were days when they could run up and down the stairs, scream at the top of their voices and behave like prisoners on parole. I do long for those days when there was a healthy interaction between neighbors and we could walk in unannounced as and when we pleased. My children practically grew up in their house.I sometimes wonder when it all changed. Ours is a small township and Durga pooja was an occasion when the entire town would dress up and visit the various pandals along with their families. Meera’s sons would come running to show me their new dress and the joy one saw in their eyes when I approved of their appearance and their pride when I remarked how smart they looked……… well those days of simple pleasures are never to come again.
They say pride goes before a fall. But having cooked for the past 34 years I take it all for granted and the sense of achievement when a preparation turned out well is no longer there. So when I went to Trichy I offered to make dosais.
It was a hot snd sultry evening and the lady of the house welcomed my help and leaving me to deal with the batter she joined the rest of the family in the portico.
I was glad that she had a non stick tawa and with great confidence I poured the batter and started spreading it. But wait a sec….. I thought I was supposed to make dosais and the batter had rolled itself into a misshapen lump that looked more like an idli than a dosai.
‘The batter is too thick’ I thought and added a little water and tried again. This time it started flowing even before I could spread it and when I tried to give it a shape it looked as if it has been nibbled at by a rat. I was not the one to giveup easily. ‘The proportion must be wrong so let me add some rice flour’ I thought. I looked for the rice flour and was about to add it to the batter when my cousin in law came to check if I needed help. Seeing my plight she said that I was perhaps taking a long time to spread the batter.
“start spreading it immediately and don’t over heat the tawa” she said.
I poured another ladleful and spread it as if I had enrolled for a marathon. This time the batter rolled up into four lumps instead of one and parts of it remained stuck to the ladle. I was convinced that the quality if rice had something to do with my bad performance. Luckily I did not air out my expert opinion.
“Let me try” offered my cousin in law. I was kind of sure that she would not succeed where I had failed. But no!! Here she was spreading out the same batter with practiced ease into a paper thin dosai while I stood watching like a fool. How do I convince her that in my own set up I do a good job of it and that her cousin (my husband) is not starved to death in my hands? I give up. Any suggestions?
“How do you manage to make them so effortlessly” my good friend Meera would ask.
I’d be gloating from within but in the most humble tone I’d reply that it was no great achievement and with a little effort she’d be able to master the art herself. She was never confident and I’d offer to make them for her family when time permitted. Those were days when I was not working and TV had not made its entry into our homes. This was a form of entertainment and I would help Meera grind the batter in my manual grinder and prepare masala dosais for her family on many a Sunday evenings. To my children those were days when they could run up and down the stairs, scream at the top of their voices and behave like prisoners on parole. I do long for those days when there was a healthy interaction between neighbors and we could walk in unannounced as and when we pleased. My children practically grew up in their house.I sometimes wonder when it all changed. Ours is a small township and Durga pooja was an occasion when the entire town would dress up and visit the various pandals along with their families. Meera’s sons would come running to show me their new dress and the joy one saw in their eyes when I approved of their appearance and their pride when I remarked how smart they looked……… well those days of simple pleasures are never to come again.
They say pride goes before a fall. But having cooked for the past 34 years I take it all for granted and the sense of achievement when a preparation turned out well is no longer there. So when I went to Trichy I offered to make dosais.
It was a hot snd sultry evening and the lady of the house welcomed my help and leaving me to deal with the batter she joined the rest of the family in the portico.
I was glad that she had a non stick tawa and with great confidence I poured the batter and started spreading it. But wait a sec….. I thought I was supposed to make dosais and the batter had rolled itself into a misshapen lump that looked more like an idli than a dosai.
‘The batter is too thick’ I thought and added a little water and tried again. This time it started flowing even before I could spread it and when I tried to give it a shape it looked as if it has been nibbled at by a rat. I was not the one to giveup easily. ‘The proportion must be wrong so let me add some rice flour’ I thought. I looked for the rice flour and was about to add it to the batter when my cousin in law came to check if I needed help. Seeing my plight she said that I was perhaps taking a long time to spread the batter.
“start spreading it immediately and don’t over heat the tawa” she said.
I poured another ladleful and spread it as if I had enrolled for a marathon. This time the batter rolled up into four lumps instead of one and parts of it remained stuck to the ladle. I was convinced that the quality if rice had something to do with my bad performance. Luckily I did not air out my expert opinion.
“Let me try” offered my cousin in law. I was kind of sure that she would not succeed where I had failed. But no!! Here she was spreading out the same batter with practiced ease into a paper thin dosai while I stood watching like a fool. How do I convince her that in my own set up I do a good job of it and that her cousin (my husband) is not starved to death in my hands? I give up. Any suggestions?
Wednesday, July 04, 2007
The leader I resemble.
There was a mention that the more qns answered the more accurate the result.Well I answered 18 qns and I resembled Abraham Lincoln.I answer 27 and I am more like Mother Theresa.What if I go on and answer 45??No time now will check it out.
Tuesday, July 03, 2007
My Extended Family
It was after a gap of 13 years that I visited my husband’s extended family this summer. I have always known them to be friendly and accommodative although my interaction with them has been very limited. Had my mother in law been alive we might have visited them more often but unfortunately that was not to be and with my brothers settling down in Mumbai all I could manage were hurried trips to Mumbai to visit my ailing mother when she was alive or to attend the marriages of my nieces and nephews. It is my regret that my children never got to know a whole set of second cousins who may not speak fluent English or chat ‘online’ but are not only warm hearted and genuine but caring and affectionate as well. Having met them only thrice in 34 years I was touched by the way they made me feel as if I had been meeting them on an annual basis. They wanted to know details about my children and grandchildren and insisted that we bring them over when they next visited India. The contrast between the superficiality of urban life and the simplicity of these village people was evident and believe me when I say that I found myself longing to be part of such a culture.
It is not as if they do not have problems. I was treated to so many family stories – some touching, some hilarious but underlying the sorrow/joy behind the information was a kindred spirit that is conspicuously absent in the hectic modern day schedule where parents can barely manage to take care of the demands of their children. I heard of a grand aunt who assisted a grand nephew who was planning to take up a job after his 10th board exams to do his post graduation and today he is a successful biology teacher with his students scattered all over the world. He is being invited to conduct work shops on how biology may be made interesting to students in different schools in Tamilnadu and his coaching classes are so popular that he is finding it difficult to accommodate all those who approach him. His students have formed associations using his name – no mean achievement for a boy brought up in a village and having had to walk 5 kilometers to school however inclement the weather. Equally impressive is the fact that he has not forgotten his days of struggle and does his bit to help meritorious students so that at least a few students who come in his contact do not have to drop out for want of money.
Another nephew was about four years old when I first saw him. He was a slow learner and never went to school. He makes himself otherwise useful to all his relatives in general and his brother’s family in particular. The entire family dotes on him and he reciprocates in equal measure. With people wanting to have nothing to do even with close relatives unless they find him/her equal in status and standard it filled my eyes with tears to see the concern shown by one and all to this young man.
More than anything else I was touched by their accepting me as one among them rather than an outsider. We stayed with my husband’s aunt who is herself childless and has been staying with her sister’s son for the past 30 years. The four days I spent in Trichy had an energizing effect to my mind and I returned to Jamshedpur with pleasant memories of my stay. I do wish we have more of such people who make one forget the ways of the wily world we live in. I did make a fool of myself trying to make dosais. More about it later.
It is not as if they do not have problems. I was treated to so many family stories – some touching, some hilarious but underlying the sorrow/joy behind the information was a kindred spirit that is conspicuously absent in the hectic modern day schedule where parents can barely manage to take care of the demands of their children. I heard of a grand aunt who assisted a grand nephew who was planning to take up a job after his 10th board exams to do his post graduation and today he is a successful biology teacher with his students scattered all over the world. He is being invited to conduct work shops on how biology may be made interesting to students in different schools in Tamilnadu and his coaching classes are so popular that he is finding it difficult to accommodate all those who approach him. His students have formed associations using his name – no mean achievement for a boy brought up in a village and having had to walk 5 kilometers to school however inclement the weather. Equally impressive is the fact that he has not forgotten his days of struggle and does his bit to help meritorious students so that at least a few students who come in his contact do not have to drop out for want of money.
Another nephew was about four years old when I first saw him. He was a slow learner and never went to school. He makes himself otherwise useful to all his relatives in general and his brother’s family in particular. The entire family dotes on him and he reciprocates in equal measure. With people wanting to have nothing to do even with close relatives unless they find him/her equal in status and standard it filled my eyes with tears to see the concern shown by one and all to this young man.
More than anything else I was touched by their accepting me as one among them rather than an outsider. We stayed with my husband’s aunt who is herself childless and has been staying with her sister’s son for the past 30 years. The four days I spent in Trichy had an energizing effect to my mind and I returned to Jamshedpur with pleasant memories of my stay. I do wish we have more of such people who make one forget the ways of the wily world we live in. I did make a fool of myself trying to make dosais. More about it later.
Sunday, June 24, 2007
The thinking blogger!!
I am afraid that I’ve taken an endless amount of time to respond to the Visitor’s tag on the thinking blogger.ITW was also kind enough to mention me in her response to the tag and finally Gauri has again asked me to list 5 bloggers who made me think. I really had no access to the computer while I was vacationing and when I managed to open my blogspot at my sister’s place all I could manage was a passing glance. I was, as I mentioned earlier hopping from a reception to marriage and again to a grihapravesh and Shashtiabdapoorty fitting in somewhere in the midst of a hectic trip. I met so many of our relatives in Trichy after a lapse of 14 years and the affection they showered on us was intoxicating as well as overwhelming. I could not help feeling lousy for not having visited them earlier. I am also glad that I managed a visit this time ‘cos 2 of my husband’s aunts are nearing eighty and wanted to know details about my children whom they had seen in their pre teens. Toddlers would be more appropriate. So, I apologize to all of you who’ve placed so much affection on me for the delay and I continue with the hope that I do justice to the task assigned to me.
I would like to classify the blogs I visit into categories. I got the idea on reading Usha’s response to the tag. Had we been children Usha would have made a face at me and said ‘Copy cat, killed a rat……’ etc and I might have run after her. I dare not run now because a broken limb or a fractured skull may take longer to mend at my age.
My five categories of bloggers who set me thinking are-
1) Golden oldies: We who ought to stay put in a corner seat but insist on sharing (boring??) our thoughts with the world. Yeah! I refer to Mahadevan, hillgmom and Usha. Each of them is an inspiration. Mahadevan for his depiction of characters in R.K. Narayan style, hillgmom whose enthusiasm is so catchy-be it the pictures of orchids or birds that visit her garden or a family get together. I always feel like a family member – loved and included. As for Usha I love her inspirational posts and her choice of subjects. There can only be ONE Usha with the magical effect of livening up every topic that she takes up. I don’t know if I can get away with calling Usha an oldie. I know that a number of you are Usha’s fans, my daughter included and I am prepared for a dressing down from one or all of you.
2) Superwomen: I refer to Artnavy, ITW, just like that, deepti, sunita and all other mommy bloggers who mange a demanding career, find quality time for their children as is evident from their writings and find time to appreciate the works of fellow bloggers.Reading their pieces takes me back to the time when I was a young mother myself. I also try to imagine what my own grand daughters may be doing on reading about these children. Apart from this Deepti gives an account of places of tourist interest in Hyderabad and ITW and artnavy write about shopping centers and eateries in Chennai. Hats off ladies! We could learn a few things from you people.
3) Reviwers: I refer to the Visitor and Balaji. When you have limited time and want to get an instant feed back on the interesting reads that blogs offer you can just hop into their blogspace and you have a fair review and update of the writings of other bloggers. They are indeed doing a great service perhaps even without realizing how important their work is for novices like me.
4) Sensitivity: passerby55, starrynights and Srijith Unni belong to this group. It is a pleasure reading them. They have a way of expressing their thoughts and their expression touches a vital chord in one’s mind. Unfortunately passerby is off on a long leave and Srijith has a busy schedule. So we don’t get to read more of them.
5) Gen X: the kid, vishesh, mnowluck , venky etc belong to this group.I’ve been able to get some insight into the minds of young girls due to my interaction with teenaged girls in the college. But reading the blogs of these boys I think I am able to understand their perspective as well. The kid almost took me to task on my views on feminism and vishesh manages several blogs, each for a different interst.
Apart from those mentioned above there are bloggers like ammani whose quick tales are interesting, archana bahuguna whose poems are as inspirational as her writingsand visitra who spends time with orphans during her free time,monika who balances between two culturally different families ………… the list is long but each one of you has contributed to the ‘thinking process’ in your own way. Whenever I read your blogs I always seem to think -‘That is a new way of looking at the issue’ or ‘I hadn’t thought of it that way’. I have learnt something from each one of you and I have to thank ITW, the Visitor and gouri for tagging me and making me ‘think’ of what I have learnt from you.
I welcome all those mentioned here to take up this tag and identify 5 bloggers who made them think and deserve the thinking blogger award.
I would like to classify the blogs I visit into categories. I got the idea on reading Usha’s response to the tag. Had we been children Usha would have made a face at me and said ‘Copy cat, killed a rat……’ etc and I might have run after her. I dare not run now because a broken limb or a fractured skull may take longer to mend at my age.
My five categories of bloggers who set me thinking are-
1) Golden oldies: We who ought to stay put in a corner seat but insist on sharing (boring??) our thoughts with the world. Yeah! I refer to Mahadevan, hillgmom and Usha. Each of them is an inspiration. Mahadevan for his depiction of characters in R.K. Narayan style, hillgmom whose enthusiasm is so catchy-be it the pictures of orchids or birds that visit her garden or a family get together. I always feel like a family member – loved and included. As for Usha I love her inspirational posts and her choice of subjects. There can only be ONE Usha with the magical effect of livening up every topic that she takes up. I don’t know if I can get away with calling Usha an oldie. I know that a number of you are Usha’s fans, my daughter included and I am prepared for a dressing down from one or all of you.
2) Superwomen: I refer to Artnavy, ITW, just like that, deepti, sunita and all other mommy bloggers who mange a demanding career, find quality time for their children as is evident from their writings and find time to appreciate the works of fellow bloggers.Reading their pieces takes me back to the time when I was a young mother myself. I also try to imagine what my own grand daughters may be doing on reading about these children. Apart from this Deepti gives an account of places of tourist interest in Hyderabad and ITW and artnavy write about shopping centers and eateries in Chennai. Hats off ladies! We could learn a few things from you people.
3) Reviwers: I refer to the Visitor and Balaji. When you have limited time and want to get an instant feed back on the interesting reads that blogs offer you can just hop into their blogspace and you have a fair review and update of the writings of other bloggers. They are indeed doing a great service perhaps even without realizing how important their work is for novices like me.
4) Sensitivity: passerby55, starrynights and Srijith Unni belong to this group. It is a pleasure reading them. They have a way of expressing their thoughts and their expression touches a vital chord in one’s mind. Unfortunately passerby is off on a long leave and Srijith has a busy schedule. So we don’t get to read more of them.
5) Gen X: the kid, vishesh, mnowluck , venky etc belong to this group.I’ve been able to get some insight into the minds of young girls due to my interaction with teenaged girls in the college. But reading the blogs of these boys I think I am able to understand their perspective as well. The kid almost took me to task on my views on feminism and vishesh manages several blogs, each for a different interst.
Apart from those mentioned above there are bloggers like ammani whose quick tales are interesting, archana bahuguna whose poems are as inspirational as her writingsand visitra who spends time with orphans during her free time,monika who balances between two culturally different families ………… the list is long but each one of you has contributed to the ‘thinking process’ in your own way. Whenever I read your blogs I always seem to think -‘That is a new way of looking at the issue’ or ‘I hadn’t thought of it that way’. I have learnt something from each one of you and I have to thank ITW, the Visitor and gouri for tagging me and making me ‘think’ of what I have learnt from you.
I welcome all those mentioned here to take up this tag and identify 5 bloggers who made them think and deserve the thinking blogger award.
Saturday, June 16, 2007
MY PRECIOUS STONE
THIS WAS THE FIRST PIECE I WROTE 3 YEARS BACK WHEN I DECIDED TO TRY MY HAND IN WRITING.Okay, it got rejected by the magazine that I sent it to.But it still remains my favorite.Since my readers have learnt to accept me as I am, I've decided to present it as my 100th post to mark the end of a year of 'happy blogging'. Thank you my dear readers for encouraging me.I'd be a big zero were it not for you guys.
Thirty years back every south Indian home had a hand grinder manually operated by the lady of the house to prepare mouth watering delicacies like dosai, Idli and vadai for the family. We were no exception. Ours actually belonged to my great grand mother in law and my husband had developed a special personal attachment to it. He often recalled the manner in which it was transported it to Jamshedpur when he was a child and how the transportation had cost his father double the actual price of the grinder. He spoke fondly of the wonderful service rendered by the grinder-the quality of its stone which did not chip off easily and the quantity of rice it would grind at one go etc. The lady members of his family including myself who had spent hundreds of man-hours grinding several kilograms of rice and dal to feed the family were conveniently forgotten. I finally decided to call it a day and decided to purchase and electrified model of a wet grinder. I felt that my problems would end. Little did I know that they had just begun?
I gave myself a pat on my back when I managed to convince my husband that I was getting on in age and if we did not purchase an electrical grinder his favorite south Indian dishes like dosai and idli would stand cancelled from our breakfast menu. He was perfectly at liberty to order for their home delivery from a local restaurant but I was not going to “hand grind” the batter. He bought the electrical version albeit half-heartedly and spoke at length on the merits of hand grinding whenever he could, right from the physical exercise it provided to the increase in electricity bills on account of the new monster. I slept through these lecture sessions or chose to develop selective hearing impediment as per my convenience. He would make a sour face and I would turn a “blind eye”. I was glad to have my way and he could rave and rant as much as he wanted. Unfortunately that was not easy. “Idli’s don’t taste good” he’d announce, ”could be the quality of rice” I’d retort. “What proportion did you follow?” He was not one to let go.” The same as before.” would be my answer and this would go on and on as if I was a novice and he my coach. After all I could not be deaf, dumb and blind at the same time! So I decided to ’give away’ the old grinder hoping that out of sight would perhaps put it out of mind! I deliberately use the term because neither was I competent enough to sell it nor would my husband hear of fixing a price for this piece of “precious” stone. He looked so upset and appalled at my suggestion that I felt like the witch in fairy tales who troubled good children.
I started looking out for a prospective customer who could offer a home to my superannuated grinder and around the same time I realized that my daughters had reached their marriageable age. I succeeded in getting them married within a year but it looked as if our precious stone would remain my companion for life. I tried convincing everyone including my present and former servants, our launderer, young brides who had budgetary constraints and needy ladies who expressed the remotest desire to become financially self dependent. I offered to pay for its transportation including the charge for “downloading” it from our third floor apartment. I transferred it to the best balcony in the house so that passers by would be tempted to own it. Finally I did manage to find a person to take it after confirming that I would not charge him for it. The more difficult task of convincing my husband that his ancestral property was going into good hands took me a month. The hour long interview that he took of the future owner of the grinder, making sure that he realized its worth, filled me with pangs of guilt and remorse for the next two months. I still expect it to be returned with thanks any day so do not be surprised if I try convincing you of the merits of this archaic piece. I know it by heart from what I’ve heard. Remember I only feigned selective deafness!
Thirty years back every south Indian home had a hand grinder manually operated by the lady of the house to prepare mouth watering delicacies like dosai, Idli and vadai for the family. We were no exception. Ours actually belonged to my great grand mother in law and my husband had developed a special personal attachment to it. He often recalled the manner in which it was transported it to Jamshedpur when he was a child and how the transportation had cost his father double the actual price of the grinder. He spoke fondly of the wonderful service rendered by the grinder-the quality of its stone which did not chip off easily and the quantity of rice it would grind at one go etc. The lady members of his family including myself who had spent hundreds of man-hours grinding several kilograms of rice and dal to feed the family were conveniently forgotten. I finally decided to call it a day and decided to purchase and electrified model of a wet grinder. I felt that my problems would end. Little did I know that they had just begun?
I gave myself a pat on my back when I managed to convince my husband that I was getting on in age and if we did not purchase an electrical grinder his favorite south Indian dishes like dosai and idli would stand cancelled from our breakfast menu. He was perfectly at liberty to order for their home delivery from a local restaurant but I was not going to “hand grind” the batter. He bought the electrical version albeit half-heartedly and spoke at length on the merits of hand grinding whenever he could, right from the physical exercise it provided to the increase in electricity bills on account of the new monster. I slept through these lecture sessions or chose to develop selective hearing impediment as per my convenience. He would make a sour face and I would turn a “blind eye”. I was glad to have my way and he could rave and rant as much as he wanted. Unfortunately that was not easy. “Idli’s don’t taste good” he’d announce, ”could be the quality of rice” I’d retort. “What proportion did you follow?” He was not one to let go.” The same as before.” would be my answer and this would go on and on as if I was a novice and he my coach. After all I could not be deaf, dumb and blind at the same time! So I decided to ’give away’ the old grinder hoping that out of sight would perhaps put it out of mind! I deliberately use the term because neither was I competent enough to sell it nor would my husband hear of fixing a price for this piece of “precious” stone. He looked so upset and appalled at my suggestion that I felt like the witch in fairy tales who troubled good children.
I started looking out for a prospective customer who could offer a home to my superannuated grinder and around the same time I realized that my daughters had reached their marriageable age. I succeeded in getting them married within a year but it looked as if our precious stone would remain my companion for life. I tried convincing everyone including my present and former servants, our launderer, young brides who had budgetary constraints and needy ladies who expressed the remotest desire to become financially self dependent. I offered to pay for its transportation including the charge for “downloading” it from our third floor apartment. I transferred it to the best balcony in the house so that passers by would be tempted to own it. Finally I did manage to find a person to take it after confirming that I would not charge him for it. The more difficult task of convincing my husband that his ancestral property was going into good hands took me a month. The hour long interview that he took of the future owner of the grinder, making sure that he realized its worth, filled me with pangs of guilt and remorse for the next two months. I still expect it to be returned with thanks any day so do not be surprised if I try convincing you of the merits of this archaic piece. I know it by heart from what I’ve heard. Remember I only feigned selective deafness!
Tuesday, May 29, 2007
Post no. 99
Not counting the enlarged photograph which is anyway a repeat,this is my 99th post.I am off to Bangalore,Tanjavoor and Chennai to attend a few family functions.ITW I'll get in touch with you if time permits.It has been a great year of blogging and getting to know so many of you.I'll be away from blogging for the next three weeks.I'll check your posts whenever I get a chance.But I don't expect to be very regular.I've already saved my 100th post and will post it on 17th June when my blog turns ONE.So let me take a break and do wish me a 'happy vacation'!
Monday, May 28, 2007
Trying to insert images
This is another photo taken on the same day as mentioned in the previous post.Here Dr. N. Shukla has taken turns to become the photographer and Dr. Kiran shukla has joined us.The rest are the same.You can see Deenu smart and confident beaming at the thought of taking charge of cleaning the new building.I am in the second row behind Dr.Kiran shukla
Sunday, May 27, 2007
THE SPIRIT OF OUR COLLEGE
This is a photograph taken on the day our new building was inaugurated and for purely personal use. Myself along with a few close friends had just finished our lunch packets and were in a very happy mood. The governor who was the chief guest had himself asked for our founder Dr. N.K. Singh, when he heard about him through the Principal’s address. She pointed out to Dr. Singh who was sitting in the audience albeit in the front row. His Excellency, the Hon’able Chancellor of Jharkhand Universities asked him to come up on stage saying “Sir please come over, your place is here.”
We were thrilled that in these days of empty promises the Governor was kind enough to accord our founder the respect that was his due. We then as a group decided to take a photograph to mark the occasion. The sweeper of our college Deenu who saw us posing for a photograph expressed his desire to join us. You can see him sitting on the steps in the right. The lady standing just behind him is a retired colleague of mine whom we are not able to let go.It is me by her side and our former HOD Dr. Nirmala Shukla by my side. Due to a rotational arrangement she has been replaced by Dr. Kiran Shukla but she continues to be our inspiration.In the second row are Viswanath Rao a temporary employee, Dr. Ruqaiya Bano HOD of the Urdu Department, Nalini Mohanty HOD of the Oriya Department and our lab boys Suresh and Kailash. So you can see that it was an assorted group of like minded people.
We were therefore surprised that it found a place in the inner side cover page of the new college prospectus. It made no sense at all. This photo was not representing a particular department or association or founder teachers. It did not also highlight the new building and so what were we doing in the inside cover page of our college prospectus? Oh yes, apart from a colleague who had taken the picture my department (Botany) was fully represented.
We then realized that knowingly or unknowingly the spirit of our founders has been conveyed in the photograph. I do not know if the editors of the college prospectus realized this when they included the photograph.But it is there for all to see. Where else would you get fourth grade employees and temporary workers posing for a photograph along with HODs with no one in the editorial board thinking twice about placing such a photograph in the cover page thereby acknowledging that we in the college treat all employees not as our colleagues but as family.
We were thrilled that in these days of empty promises the Governor was kind enough to accord our founder the respect that was his due. We then as a group decided to take a photograph to mark the occasion. The sweeper of our college Deenu who saw us posing for a photograph expressed his desire to join us. You can see him sitting on the steps in the right. The lady standing just behind him is a retired colleague of mine whom we are not able to let go.It is me by her side and our former HOD Dr. Nirmala Shukla by my side. Due to a rotational arrangement she has been replaced by Dr. Kiran Shukla but she continues to be our inspiration.In the second row are Viswanath Rao a temporary employee, Dr. Ruqaiya Bano HOD of the Urdu Department, Nalini Mohanty HOD of the Oriya Department and our lab boys Suresh and Kailash. So you can see that it was an assorted group of like minded people.
We were therefore surprised that it found a place in the inner side cover page of the new college prospectus. It made no sense at all. This photo was not representing a particular department or association or founder teachers. It did not also highlight the new building and so what were we doing in the inside cover page of our college prospectus? Oh yes, apart from a colleague who had taken the picture my department (Botany) was fully represented.
We then realized that knowingly or unknowingly the spirit of our founders has been conveyed in the photograph. I do not know if the editors of the college prospectus realized this when they included the photograph.But it is there for all to see. Where else would you get fourth grade employees and temporary workers posing for a photograph along with HODs with no one in the editorial board thinking twice about placing such a photograph in the cover page thereby acknowledging that we in the college treat all employees not as our colleagues but as family.
Friday, May 25, 2007
Can you laugh at yourself??
I am in total admiration of those among us who can laugh at themselves. To me it shows the highest level of confidence and an innate strength of character. It is easy to laugh at other people and most of us are guilty of having done so at some point of our lives. But to be able to laugh at one’s own folly or mistakes needs some kind of effort but it is not impossible if one tries. But to be able to laugh when one is being put down knowingly or unknowingly is altogether a different thing. And to do it without malice or ill feeling makes it all the more worthy. My colleague Dr. R. S. did just that.
Dr.R.... is an extraordinary person, in full command of her subject and quite capable of taking up any kind of responsibility at home as well as in the college. She is popular among her students and in general an asset to the college and her family. Her family is religiously oriented and her husband can trust her to take care of the innumerable pujas and ceremonies that are regularly performed from time to time in their house. Domestic help being unreliable, she took it on herself to sweep the portico and the entrance early in the morning and to decorate the entrance with beautiful rangolis before daybreak as is the custom in most south Indian homes. She would then clean up the kitchen and the prayer room so that she could begin the day’s chore after taking her bath. It was natural that she disposed the garbage instead of waiting for the servant to do it. There was also no point waiting for the servant who came around eight in the morning by which time her husband would have left home for work. While doing all this work she happened to see a girl working for her neighbor and since the girl’s timings suited her she decided to ask if she would work for her.
Broom in hand and holding a bucket of water she called out.
“Hey, you , are you free to work here?”
The girl stopped.
“Work where?” she asked.
“Here” said Dr. R… pointing to her bungalow.
“Why do you ask me” the girl replied “Do you plan to quit?”
R….. just could not control her laughter. She threw the broom away and holding her stomach she laughed to her heart’s content while the poor servant girl could not make out what was so funny in what she had asked.
“Oh no!!” said R…. I couldn’t have quit even if I wanted to. Mine is a permanent post. I only want you to help me if you are free to come early in the morning.”
The girl was confused.
“Will the mistress hire a second servant?” she innocently asked thereby sending R…. into a second spell of uncontrollable laughter.
We do not know if the girl was finally hired or not but we do know that Dr. R…. enjoyed repeating the story to all her friends in college making us laugh our lungs out and filling us with renewed admiration for her.
Dr.R.... is an extraordinary person, in full command of her subject and quite capable of taking up any kind of responsibility at home as well as in the college. She is popular among her students and in general an asset to the college and her family. Her family is religiously oriented and her husband can trust her to take care of the innumerable pujas and ceremonies that are regularly performed from time to time in their house. Domestic help being unreliable, she took it on herself to sweep the portico and the entrance early in the morning and to decorate the entrance with beautiful rangolis before daybreak as is the custom in most south Indian homes. She would then clean up the kitchen and the prayer room so that she could begin the day’s chore after taking her bath. It was natural that she disposed the garbage instead of waiting for the servant to do it. There was also no point waiting for the servant who came around eight in the morning by which time her husband would have left home for work. While doing all this work she happened to see a girl working for her neighbor and since the girl’s timings suited her she decided to ask if she would work for her.
Broom in hand and holding a bucket of water she called out.
“Hey, you , are you free to work here?”
The girl stopped.
“Work where?” she asked.
“Here” said Dr. R… pointing to her bungalow.
“Why do you ask me” the girl replied “Do you plan to quit?”
R….. just could not control her laughter. She threw the broom away and holding her stomach she laughed to her heart’s content while the poor servant girl could not make out what was so funny in what she had asked.
“Oh no!!” said R…. I couldn’t have quit even if I wanted to. Mine is a permanent post. I only want you to help me if you are free to come early in the morning.”
The girl was confused.
“Will the mistress hire a second servant?” she innocently asked thereby sending R…. into a second spell of uncontrollable laughter.
We do not know if the girl was finally hired or not but we do know that Dr. R…. enjoyed repeating the story to all her friends in college making us laugh our lungs out and filling us with renewed admiration for her.
Sunday, May 20, 2007
what am I -2
| You Are 45% Normal |
 While some of your behavior is quite normal... Other things you do are downright strange You've got a little of your freak going on But you mostly keep your weirdness to yourself |
Liked this thing I saw in hillgmom's blog and did it immediately.I thought that I was a near normal person.I see that i am wrong.Tooooo bad
Saturday, May 12, 2007
Happy Mother's Day
Tomorrow in International Mother’s day and what better time would I get to do a post on my mother whom I consider the best mother in the world. I can almost hear you saying ‘Not better than mine’. Well I give up. Mothers are a unique species who are considered the best in the world by their children and so we have a whole generation of excellent people in the form of mothers. I felt that I was no good when compared to my mother and I almost hope (shamelessly of course) that my daughters think the same about me. Is that what people call fishing for compliments?? I am not exactly fishing for compliments but would not mind graciously accepting them when offered. Children are you listening???
‘PJ’………. That is my son. I can almost hear him.
Now, this was a term I heard him use often and managed to ignore till recently. Ignorance was bliss and I took it to mean something similar to DJ as in Disc Jockey. I even thought that I had perhaps heard him wrong but refrained from asking him to repeat it out of fear of being labeled an outdated museum specimen. So I pretended to understand but one does not always maintain caution and one day I made the mistake of asking him to explain.
“PJ means ‘poor joke’ mummy, but your jokes are not just poor they are ‘pathetic’…..”
Jokes apart I do enjoy a good rapport with my children and when we get together we interact at an equal level. They tease me like mad and I don’t give up easily. But wait a sec. I thought I was doing a post on my mother. And here I am…. Blowing my own trumpet. Sorry.
Well, my mother was a woman of few words. She had a remarkable dignity and immense will power. She was widowed at the age of forty and spent the next 21 years at her brother’s place, right till the youngest of us finished his engineering course and took up a job. That in all those 21 years there was no ill feeling between her and her sister in law speaks volumes of the manner in which she carried herself as also the generosity shown by her brother’s family in accommodating her. She, in her quiet way taught us not to make mountains of mole hills and to pass on the kindness that we received to others who may need them. My concern for the down trodden has its roots in the example shown by my mother and mami.
There have been times when I felt disappointed that while I did not inherit my mother’s fair complexion I was handed, of all things, her height. I hardly reach the kitchen shelf which was fixed at the lowest level possible to suit my needs. But I am also glad that any credit given to me for adjusting to my in laws or for showing remarkable patience and during trying times is actually the result of her upbringing. Whether it was nature or nurture I cannot say for sure. But I do know that the credits belong to her and the discredits are my own. We as a family are an accommodative lot and though we brothers and sisters differ in physical features we are the same when looks are ignored and our natures analyzed. After all, we have learnt life’s lessons from the same teacher. As the bearer of the culture inherited from her I only wish to hand over the seeds of love and kindness to my children, not by preaching from a pedestal but by leading through example.
A happy mother's day to all of you mothers!! May you all have a great time with your families.
‘PJ’………. That is my son. I can almost hear him.
Now, this was a term I heard him use often and managed to ignore till recently. Ignorance was bliss and I took it to mean something similar to DJ as in Disc Jockey. I even thought that I had perhaps heard him wrong but refrained from asking him to repeat it out of fear of being labeled an outdated museum specimen. So I pretended to understand but one does not always maintain caution and one day I made the mistake of asking him to explain.
“PJ means ‘poor joke’ mummy, but your jokes are not just poor they are ‘pathetic’…..”
Jokes apart I do enjoy a good rapport with my children and when we get together we interact at an equal level. They tease me like mad and I don’t give up easily. But wait a sec. I thought I was doing a post on my mother. And here I am…. Blowing my own trumpet. Sorry.
Well, my mother was a woman of few words. She had a remarkable dignity and immense will power. She was widowed at the age of forty and spent the next 21 years at her brother’s place, right till the youngest of us finished his engineering course and took up a job. That in all those 21 years there was no ill feeling between her and her sister in law speaks volumes of the manner in which she carried herself as also the generosity shown by her brother’s family in accommodating her. She, in her quiet way taught us not to make mountains of mole hills and to pass on the kindness that we received to others who may need them. My concern for the down trodden has its roots in the example shown by my mother and mami.
There have been times when I felt disappointed that while I did not inherit my mother’s fair complexion I was handed, of all things, her height. I hardly reach the kitchen shelf which was fixed at the lowest level possible to suit my needs. But I am also glad that any credit given to me for adjusting to my in laws or for showing remarkable patience and during trying times is actually the result of her upbringing. Whether it was nature or nurture I cannot say for sure. But I do know that the credits belong to her and the discredits are my own. We as a family are an accommodative lot and though we brothers and sisters differ in physical features we are the same when looks are ignored and our natures analyzed. After all, we have learnt life’s lessons from the same teacher. As the bearer of the culture inherited from her I only wish to hand over the seeds of love and kindness to my children, not by preaching from a pedestal but by leading through example.
A happy mother's day to all of you mothers!! May you all have a great time with your families.
Wednesday, May 09, 2007
Are we born women?
One is not born a woman, one becomes one.
Simone de Beauvoir (1908-1986) The Second Sex (1949-1950)
This quotation made me think about the role of society in the making of a woman. True we are born as human beings but soon we are fine tuned by society and family into taking on roles and responsibilities as women. I do not want to start an argument about whether it was wrong or right on the part of society to do so or whether we should or should not allow it to do so. No. My take on the subject is different. Being a teacher of Botany I have tried to analyze the process of organic evolution. Nature has supported the division of labor even among unicellular organisms and the explanation given is the conservation of energy and proper utilization of available resources. Keeping this in mind I have tried to expand on the possible reasons for the role undertaken by women in society. If some of you prefer to think that this role was imposed upon women, I have no problem with that too. Either way women had a role to play and an important one at that. Let us never under estimate its importance.
The moment a girl child is born. a mother starts saving for her marriage expenses in most middle class homes. I remember the advice given by a co passenger - a retired IAS officer – when I was returning with my 3 month old daughter to Jamshedpur after having spent around 4 months at my mother’s place. “Start a Recurring Deposit in her name,” he said “Any small amount would do. It will come in handy at the time of her marriage.”
“People will give her gifts in cash and kind” added his wife. “Buy some silver ware or gold out of the money you get. Better you buy gold coins. You can make jewelry at a later date. Fashions keep changing.”
The couple meant well and they had probably done so for their daughter. My opinion in the matter was different. I had decided that I would rather invest in her education and let her buy gold or silver as per her choice when she started earning. Education was perhaps the best dowry I could ever give her. This brings up the next question. Why should the question of offering a handsome/decent dowry come up at all? Women are home makers and try as much as one may, it is going to take a few more generations for women to give up that role without feeling guilty about it.Is that not asset enough? But then a dowry given to the girl was perhaps her share in the ancestral property and the boys family had no control over it. With changing times dowry has become a status symbol to the affluent and a pain in the neck to the working class. That a girl would take charge of the family's well being was the main understanding in society. She'd become a part of her aquired family. This was a kind of division of labor accepted without a murmur till the first half of the 20th century. I was myself under the misconception that women went out to work because of financial strains and it was only when I started working that I realized that there is more to a career than the extra money that a job fetches. My husband tried to be helpful but I preferred to do most of the house hold chores myself. If he diced vegetables they were never done to my satisfaction. When he dried out clothes he either did not wring out the water properly or he did not spread them out without a crease and I did not like the way he folded them or stacked them in the wardrobe. He placed my saris over his shirts or mixed up my work clothes with party wear……..the list was never ending. Finally he gave up and let me remain, well - the WOMAN of the house. Despite this he has taken up certain chores and whipping butter from cream is one of them. Hats off to him! I find it a messy job and gladly let him take it up.
It is twenty six years since I started working and till my husband’s retirement I managed a lot of work outside the home. My college timings were such that I had time to go to the bank, attend PT meetings, pay the telephone bill etc. My husband had no problem there but why then do I have a problem when he offers to help? I wonder whether I was born a woman or became one. I remember my mother in law getting upset when my father in law suggested that I use up the brinjal or tomatoes first as they were likely to get spoilt fast.
“It is her household and she will cook whatever she wants to. Any suggestion will be made by me. You keep out of this. Whether she uses or throws out the vegetable is not your problem.”
I now wonder if it was her way of establishing her importance as the lady of the house or did she feel it was better that men stayed out of house keeping in keeping with tradition? With women taking up responsible jobs is it not advisable to restructure the role of women and arrive at a balance in the division of labor as required by the present days? If we started thinking on these lines there would be much less frustration and lot more happiness. Don’t you think so?
Simone de Beauvoir (1908-1986) The Second Sex (1949-1950)
This quotation made me think about the role of society in the making of a woman. True we are born as human beings but soon we are fine tuned by society and family into taking on roles and responsibilities as women. I do not want to start an argument about whether it was wrong or right on the part of society to do so or whether we should or should not allow it to do so. No. My take on the subject is different. Being a teacher of Botany I have tried to analyze the process of organic evolution. Nature has supported the division of labor even among unicellular organisms and the explanation given is the conservation of energy and proper utilization of available resources. Keeping this in mind I have tried to expand on the possible reasons for the role undertaken by women in society. If some of you prefer to think that this role was imposed upon women, I have no problem with that too. Either way women had a role to play and an important one at that. Let us never under estimate its importance.
The moment a girl child is born. a mother starts saving for her marriage expenses in most middle class homes. I remember the advice given by a co passenger - a retired IAS officer – when I was returning with my 3 month old daughter to Jamshedpur after having spent around 4 months at my mother’s place. “Start a Recurring Deposit in her name,” he said “Any small amount would do. It will come in handy at the time of her marriage.”
“People will give her gifts in cash and kind” added his wife. “Buy some silver ware or gold out of the money you get. Better you buy gold coins. You can make jewelry at a later date. Fashions keep changing.”
The couple meant well and they had probably done so for their daughter. My opinion in the matter was different. I had decided that I would rather invest in her education and let her buy gold or silver as per her choice when she started earning. Education was perhaps the best dowry I could ever give her. This brings up the next question. Why should the question of offering a handsome/decent dowry come up at all? Women are home makers and try as much as one may, it is going to take a few more generations for women to give up that role without feeling guilty about it.Is that not asset enough? But then a dowry given to the girl was perhaps her share in the ancestral property and the boys family had no control over it. With changing times dowry has become a status symbol to the affluent and a pain in the neck to the working class. That a girl would take charge of the family's well being was the main understanding in society. She'd become a part of her aquired family. This was a kind of division of labor accepted without a murmur till the first half of the 20th century. I was myself under the misconception that women went out to work because of financial strains and it was only when I started working that I realized that there is more to a career than the extra money that a job fetches. My husband tried to be helpful but I preferred to do most of the house hold chores myself. If he diced vegetables they were never done to my satisfaction. When he dried out clothes he either did not wring out the water properly or he did not spread them out without a crease and I did not like the way he folded them or stacked them in the wardrobe. He placed my saris over his shirts or mixed up my work clothes with party wear……..the list was never ending. Finally he gave up and let me remain, well - the WOMAN of the house. Despite this he has taken up certain chores and whipping butter from cream is one of them. Hats off to him! I find it a messy job and gladly let him take it up.
It is twenty six years since I started working and till my husband’s retirement I managed a lot of work outside the home. My college timings were such that I had time to go to the bank, attend PT meetings, pay the telephone bill etc. My husband had no problem there but why then do I have a problem when he offers to help? I wonder whether I was born a woman or became one. I remember my mother in law getting upset when my father in law suggested that I use up the brinjal or tomatoes first as they were likely to get spoilt fast.
“It is her household and she will cook whatever she wants to. Any suggestion will be made by me. You keep out of this. Whether she uses or throws out the vegetable is not your problem.”
I now wonder if it was her way of establishing her importance as the lady of the house or did she feel it was better that men stayed out of house keeping in keeping with tradition? With women taking up responsible jobs is it not advisable to restructure the role of women and arrive at a balance in the division of labor as required by the present days? If we started thinking on these lines there would be much less frustration and lot more happiness. Don’t you think so?
Sunday, April 29, 2007
Random thoughts
I had asked Artnavy to look out for something in the next few days. Well this one is my B’day gift to her - An account of my meeting with her in January this year. She missed my b’day by a day but I took her visit to be a b’day gift nonetheless.
Well, to be frank I never expected to get so much when I first started my blog. My question to my daughter who started it for me was “What would I write about.”
“Anything under the sun. Just write what you feel like writing.” Was her reply.
And that is exactly what I did. I just poured my heart out and the responses I got were just overwhelming. I got a whole new set of friends and to my surprise many were from a group that I had felt would have no time for me. Artnavy was one of them. It was strange the way we got to know each other.
“You sound so much like Upali’s mom.” She wrote, “are you her?”
Now I know only one Upali in Jamshedpur who happened to be my daughter’s class mate and her mother lived in my very own block. It was a strange co-incidence that this was the same Upali mentioned by Artnavy. When I planned my trip to Chennai I had written to Artnavy suggesting that we meet if possible. Deep down in my heart I was a little apprehensive. What if her expectations from were high and I did not measure up to them? As it is I am a shortie and cannot measure up to most people. But I am very bad at acting. So I decided to be myself. She was kind enough to visit me at my sister’s place. I had worried in vain. She was so much like my own daughter in the way she interacted that I should not have worried at all. Whether it was her exposure to city life or her stint in different corners of India (North/south included) she was a nice person to get to know – age and height no bar. My stay at Chennai was short and I could not return her call. But then there is always a next time and this time I am going to meet Anush and Navy as well!!
Meeting Usha was a little easier. She was closer to me in age and I have been surprised the the way we two seem to perceive things.There is so much in common that she could well be the Preeta I tend to become in autobiographical accounts. This is perhaps an appropriate time to let you know why I assume the name in my stories.
When I first went to a boarding school in Coonoor, I was kind of feeling lonely and longed to run home.
“Preeta” a voice called out “I thought you weren’t coming back this year…. “The girl stopped when I turned around. I later became good friends with her. She was Uma Panch a class mate.She went on to tell me how strongly I resemble Preeta who was in their class the previous year. The girl had left our school following her father’s transfer. Since then many others mistook me for Preeta and my desire to meet her remains unfulfilled till date. I hope by some co-incidence I really get to meet Preeta. I seem to resemble none in my family and the one person who by all accounts resembled me had to leave just before I joined.Cameras were a luxury those days. So I did not get to see her photograph.
Usha, Artnavy and all other Taureans out there “A VERY HAPPY BIRTHDAY TO ALL OF YOU”.
It is my desire to meet Srijith, ITW, Arda and the Visitor whenever possible. I do hope it will materialize one day. With the Film festival on I am going to be a little busy.I do have something serious in mind. I need to frame the post with some responsibility. I am going to take the time it deserves to be given.I am running out of time. I plan to post my 100th post when my blog celebrates its first birthday I hope I do it.
Well, to be frank I never expected to get so much when I first started my blog. My question to my daughter who started it for me was “What would I write about.”
“Anything under the sun. Just write what you feel like writing.” Was her reply.
And that is exactly what I did. I just poured my heart out and the responses I got were just overwhelming. I got a whole new set of friends and to my surprise many were from a group that I had felt would have no time for me. Artnavy was one of them. It was strange the way we got to know each other.
“You sound so much like Upali’s mom.” She wrote, “are you her?”
Now I know only one Upali in Jamshedpur who happened to be my daughter’s class mate and her mother lived in my very own block. It was a strange co-incidence that this was the same Upali mentioned by Artnavy. When I planned my trip to Chennai I had written to Artnavy suggesting that we meet if possible. Deep down in my heart I was a little apprehensive. What if her expectations from were high and I did not measure up to them? As it is I am a shortie and cannot measure up to most people. But I am very bad at acting. So I decided to be myself. She was kind enough to visit me at my sister’s place. I had worried in vain. She was so much like my own daughter in the way she interacted that I should not have worried at all. Whether it was her exposure to city life or her stint in different corners of India (North/south included) she was a nice person to get to know – age and height no bar. My stay at Chennai was short and I could not return her call. But then there is always a next time and this time I am going to meet Anush and Navy as well!!
Meeting Usha was a little easier. She was closer to me in age and I have been surprised the the way we two seem to perceive things.There is so much in common that she could well be the Preeta I tend to become in autobiographical accounts. This is perhaps an appropriate time to let you know why I assume the name in my stories.
When I first went to a boarding school in Coonoor, I was kind of feeling lonely and longed to run home.
“Preeta” a voice called out “I thought you weren’t coming back this year…. “The girl stopped when I turned around. I later became good friends with her. She was Uma Panch a class mate.She went on to tell me how strongly I resemble Preeta who was in their class the previous year. The girl had left our school following her father’s transfer. Since then many others mistook me for Preeta and my desire to meet her remains unfulfilled till date. I hope by some co-incidence I really get to meet Preeta. I seem to resemble none in my family and the one person who by all accounts resembled me had to leave just before I joined.Cameras were a luxury those days. So I did not get to see her photograph.
Usha, Artnavy and all other Taureans out there “A VERY HAPPY BIRTHDAY TO ALL OF YOU”.
It is my desire to meet Srijith, ITW, Arda and the Visitor whenever possible. I do hope it will materialize one day. With the Film festival on I am going to be a little busy.I do have something serious in mind. I need to frame the post with some responsibility. I am going to take the time it deserves to be given.I am running out of time. I plan to post my 100th post when my blog celebrates its first birthday I hope I do it.
Monday, April 23, 2007
What am I?
| Your Personality is Very Rare (INTP) |
 Your personality type is goofy, imaginative, relaxed, and brilliant. Only about 4% of all people have your personality, including 2% of all women and 6% of all men You are Introverted, Intuitive, Thinking, and Perceiving. |
Any one interested can try it out.I flicked it from Deepti's
Sunday, April 15, 2007
what sign is my true love?
Your True Love Is a Cancer |
 Why you'll love a Cancer: Cancer's loyal and sincere heart makes your own sensitive heart melt. Caring and devoted, a Cancer will take the lead in pursuing you - and not give up! Why a Cancer will love you: You're laid back enough to deal with Cancer's little mood swings and freak-outs. A fellow homebody, you know how make Cancer comfortable and at home with you. |
Saturday, April 14, 2007
Feminism in future.
My apologies to Art navy. She wanted me to give my opinion on feminism. I’ve already given my serious opinion regarding this. Now I feel like doing a satire. It was not meant to be so but I ended up writing it all the same. Please bear with me.
Feminism according to me means mutual respect between men and women. But with mankind planning to do away with the female species I tried to imagine what the scenario would be some 50 years from now. I’ve let my imagination run wild but I assure you that I want to start a thought process in our society. I know that readers of this blog are educated, thinking, responsible adults. They may definitely not support the suppression or subjugation of women. I only want them to ponder over what else they may do to bring about a proper balance of masculine and feminine energies. I acknowledge that the idea for this piece came from a skit presented by a local college in a seminar hosted by our college and conducted by an NGO group. I have just expanded upon the idea conveyed by them.
Some fifty years from now the scene in a small township like ours may be something like this-
The male/female ratio has fallen and there are only 520 girls for 1000 boys as per the latest census.
Agencies have cropped up to help eligible bachelors to choose a good girl - I am sorry I meant, to choose a girl. The government has claimed that all girls were good and any one seeking to discriminate them on the basis of color, looks or any other objectionable parameters would be jailed, fined or both.
Pre – natal Sex testing is legalized and women carrying a female child to be treated as national treasures and living fossils. This is because constant and continuous destruction of female fetuses has resulted in the application an evolutionary trend ‘survival of the fittest’ at the fetal level. Therefore, it was found, after elaborate scientific research that the female children born after so much socio - medical onslaught, were far superior to their male counterparts that each one was an Indira Gandhi or Rani Lakshmibai in the making.
Quoting the example of Draupadi in Mahabharat, the Center had requested parents to get their daughters married to five men. However, women groups turned down the suggestion and requested the government to stop acting silly. They, in turn, quoted from the Ramayan that advocated monogamy and claimed that attending to one husband was bad enough and dealing with five was out of question.
The dowry demands of parents of girls were increasing by the day and it was hard to get an eligible spinster for a decent dowry. Parents of boys drawing a six digit salary offered to pledge half their son’s salary to the girl’s father and undertook to share their medical expenses as well.
Mothers of boys offered to baby sit and help out in the kitchen. They advised their sons to be patient with their wives. “She may ask for a divorce and a divorced husband will be looked down by society. And no other girl will be willing to marry you. It is in your interest to put with the nonsense that is meted out to you. After all she is a woman and has the upper hand”.
The birth of a girl child is celebrated with pomp and show while that of a boy is a hushed affair. Boys are trained to help in household chores and mothers claim that it will come handy when he gets married. Years of subjugation have made men docile and men’s groups have secret meetings in underground cellars to explore means to overcome the problem and infuse some courage into their system.
Well let me not go further. I feel tempted to continue. But there is a limit to which satire can be carried. I don’t think that the suppression of feminine or masculine energy would be good for any society. Both have a role to play and feminism in its truest form will enable the two to compliment each other. I can only hope that this is realized soon before more damage is done.
Feminism according to me means mutual respect between men and women. But with mankind planning to do away with the female species I tried to imagine what the scenario would be some 50 years from now. I’ve let my imagination run wild but I assure you that I want to start a thought process in our society. I know that readers of this blog are educated, thinking, responsible adults. They may definitely not support the suppression or subjugation of women. I only want them to ponder over what else they may do to bring about a proper balance of masculine and feminine energies. I acknowledge that the idea for this piece came from a skit presented by a local college in a seminar hosted by our college and conducted by an NGO group. I have just expanded upon the idea conveyed by them.
Some fifty years from now the scene in a small township like ours may be something like this-
The male/female ratio has fallen and there are only 520 girls for 1000 boys as per the latest census.
Agencies have cropped up to help eligible bachelors to choose a good girl - I am sorry I meant, to choose a girl. The government has claimed that all girls were good and any one seeking to discriminate them on the basis of color, looks or any other objectionable parameters would be jailed, fined or both.
Pre – natal Sex testing is legalized and women carrying a female child to be treated as national treasures and living fossils. This is because constant and continuous destruction of female fetuses has resulted in the application an evolutionary trend ‘survival of the fittest’ at the fetal level. Therefore, it was found, after elaborate scientific research that the female children born after so much socio - medical onslaught, were far superior to their male counterparts that each one was an Indira Gandhi or Rani Lakshmibai in the making.
Quoting the example of Draupadi in Mahabharat, the Center had requested parents to get their daughters married to five men. However, women groups turned down the suggestion and requested the government to stop acting silly. They, in turn, quoted from the Ramayan that advocated monogamy and claimed that attending to one husband was bad enough and dealing with five was out of question.
The dowry demands of parents of girls were increasing by the day and it was hard to get an eligible spinster for a decent dowry. Parents of boys drawing a six digit salary offered to pledge half their son’s salary to the girl’s father and undertook to share their medical expenses as well.
Mothers of boys offered to baby sit and help out in the kitchen. They advised their sons to be patient with their wives. “She may ask for a divorce and a divorced husband will be looked down by society. And no other girl will be willing to marry you. It is in your interest to put with the nonsense that is meted out to you. After all she is a woman and has the upper hand”.
The birth of a girl child is celebrated with pomp and show while that of a boy is a hushed affair. Boys are trained to help in household chores and mothers claim that it will come handy when he gets married. Years of subjugation have made men docile and men’s groups have secret meetings in underground cellars to explore means to overcome the problem and infuse some courage into their system.
Well let me not go further. I feel tempted to continue. But there is a limit to which satire can be carried. I don’t think that the suppression of feminine or masculine energy would be good for any society. Both have a role to play and feminism in its truest form will enable the two to compliment each other. I can only hope that this is realized soon before more damage is done.
Friday, April 06, 2007
Any suggestions?
I am terribly upset. Where else can I pour my heart out but in my very own blog space? We recently went on a strike that has now been called off. As of now, I feel that the strike has served no real purpose. One of our main demands was that the services of 94 employees who have put in 24 years of service be regularized. Nine of them are in our college too and one is in my own department. He was around 20 years of age when he joined. I have come to look upon him as my younger brother and cannot distance myself from his problems. The group was drawing regular salary and other benefits till ’94 but from then they have been receiving ad hoc salary saying that they have been appointed without proper sanctioning of post. They are being made to do their regular duty for just Rs.2000/- and it suits the university to exploit them. Why didn’t they just throw them out? This strike has not resolved their problem and our leaders are busy counting and calculating the financial benefits they expect to derive due to the revised pay scale.I wish to hang my head in shame.
Just before the strike my colleagues wanted me to take charge as the secretary of the Non teaching association of my college. While I thanked them for the trust that they placed in my ability to lead them, I refused. I had my reservations and felt that I did not fulfill the criteria that are required for a person to lead from the front in the present times. My colleagues felt let down. I decided to do a little introspection and came to the conclusion that I did not fit the bill. I now wonder whether I should have accepted the post after all. There is a quotation attributed to Shiv Khera “If you are not part of the solution then you are part of the problem”. Do I have to plead guilty for not rising to the occasion? Since I could not find a solution am I also adding to the problem by remaining a silent spectator? Fourteen years is a long period to wait for a solution. But am I in a position to do something? These are questions that bother me. Unfortunately I have no answers. The agreement papers have come in and the case of the 94 employees has not even found a place in the demand. In protest a number of us refused to attend a meeting called by our Zonal committee. We were not interested in listening to the office bearers blowing their trumpets while so many among us are still in the same position as they were before the strike. I suggested that we refuse to join unless our so called leaders arranged for a dialogue with the Vice Chancellor on the issue. Technical problems were quoted and the idea was dropped. I don’t even know if I have the right to complain when I can do nothing to alleviate their misery. Iwonder what I can and cannot do. Here is a list .Forgive me if I sound crazy. I am terribly upset.
1.I can put forth my arguments in a convincing manner but I cannot change my conviction in accordance with the people I deal with. Talking in two different languages with the employees and administrators is impossible for me.
2.I can go on a hunger strike if need be but I cannot deal with corruption at all levels.
3.I can give a patient hearing to all around me but I cannot hold back my candid opinion in the matter.
4.I can understand the employee’s plight but I cannot ignore the employer’s compulsion under a given circumstance.
5.I can initiate a dialogue but I cannot thump the table and scream at the top of my voice.
6.I can stand up for a wronged colleague but I cannot take his side just because he/she happens to be a colleague. I need to feel convinced that the person is right.
Do any of you have any suggestions?
Just before the strike my colleagues wanted me to take charge as the secretary of the Non teaching association of my college. While I thanked them for the trust that they placed in my ability to lead them, I refused. I had my reservations and felt that I did not fulfill the criteria that are required for a person to lead from the front in the present times. My colleagues felt let down. I decided to do a little introspection and came to the conclusion that I did not fit the bill. I now wonder whether I should have accepted the post after all. There is a quotation attributed to Shiv Khera “If you are not part of the solution then you are part of the problem”. Do I have to plead guilty for not rising to the occasion? Since I could not find a solution am I also adding to the problem by remaining a silent spectator? Fourteen years is a long period to wait for a solution. But am I in a position to do something? These are questions that bother me. Unfortunately I have no answers. The agreement papers have come in and the case of the 94 employees has not even found a place in the demand. In protest a number of us refused to attend a meeting called by our Zonal committee. We were not interested in listening to the office bearers blowing their trumpets while so many among us are still in the same position as they were before the strike. I suggested that we refuse to join unless our so called leaders arranged for a dialogue with the Vice Chancellor on the issue. Technical problems were quoted and the idea was dropped. I don’t even know if I have the right to complain when I can do nothing to alleviate their misery. Iwonder what I can and cannot do. Here is a list .Forgive me if I sound crazy. I am terribly upset.
1.I can put forth my arguments in a convincing manner but I cannot change my conviction in accordance with the people I deal with. Talking in two different languages with the employees and administrators is impossible for me.
2.I can go on a hunger strike if need be but I cannot deal with corruption at all levels.
3.I can give a patient hearing to all around me but I cannot hold back my candid opinion in the matter.
4.I can understand the employee’s plight but I cannot ignore the employer’s compulsion under a given circumstance.
5.I can initiate a dialogue but I cannot thump the table and scream at the top of my voice.
6.I can stand up for a wronged colleague but I cannot take his side just because he/she happens to be a colleague. I need to feel convinced that the person is right.
Do any of you have any suggestions?
Thursday, March 29, 2007
Tag of three
Three things I’d like to do
1.Lose weight
2.Sit down on a sandy beach on a full moon day
3.Go back in time to my care free youth
Three things I hate to do
1.Scold my servants and sub-ordinates
2.Stand in a long queue on a sultry afternoon
3.Have my meals on my own
Three people whom I’d like to meet
1.President Abdul Kalam
2.Super Cop Kiran Bedi
3.Social activist Medha Patkar
Three things I long to have
1.Four more inches of height
2.The lovely long hair that I had once upon a time
3.More discretion over my words
Three things that make me glad
1. The innocent smile of a child
2. Listening to soft music late into the night
3. The smell of wet mud after a light shower
Three things that make me sad
1.The mini adult that our kids are becoming
2.Poverty and lack of education among my countrymen
3.My own inability to do anything for them
Three things that break my heart
1.The sorrow of a mother who loses her child
2.Killing of innocent civilians in the name of terrorism
3.Rampant corruption with no hope of a remedy and the indifference of the public who accept it without a question
Three things that I like to dream about
1.The return of my children to their homeland
2.A pollution free environment
3.A full stop to the dowry menace
Three things that need to be stopped
1.Letting school going children drive motorized vehicles
2.Burdening children with parental ambition
3.Breaking children’s back with over weight school bags
Three people I like to tag
1.Usha Vaidyanathan
2.Hillg’mom
3.Mahadevan
1.Lose weight
2.Sit down on a sandy beach on a full moon day
3.Go back in time to my care free youth
Three things I hate to do
1.Scold my servants and sub-ordinates
2.Stand in a long queue on a sultry afternoon
3.Have my meals on my own
Three people whom I’d like to meet
1.President Abdul Kalam
2.Super Cop Kiran Bedi
3.Social activist Medha Patkar
Three things I long to have
1.Four more inches of height
2.The lovely long hair that I had once upon a time
3.More discretion over my words
Three things that make me glad
1. The innocent smile of a child
2. Listening to soft music late into the night
3. The smell of wet mud after a light shower
Three things that make me sad
1.The mini adult that our kids are becoming
2.Poverty and lack of education among my countrymen
3.My own inability to do anything for them
Three things that break my heart
1.The sorrow of a mother who loses her child
2.Killing of innocent civilians in the name of terrorism
3.Rampant corruption with no hope of a remedy and the indifference of the public who accept it without a question
Three things that I like to dream about
1.The return of my children to their homeland
2.A pollution free environment
3.A full stop to the dowry menace
Three things that need to be stopped
1.Letting school going children drive motorized vehicles
2.Burdening children with parental ambition
3.Breaking children’s back with over weight school bags
Three people I like to tag
1.Usha Vaidyanathan
2.Hillg’mom
3.Mahadevan
Tuesday, March 27, 2007
Happy Ram Navami!
Today is Ram Navami day. The Hindu community celebrates the birth of Lord Ram on this day. Ram was known for his obedience to his father and according to the Hindu mythology he spent fourteen years in exile to keep his father’s promise to his step mother. If Ram was the ideal son, his brother Lakshman was the ideal brother who accompanied him to the forest and his wife Sita who undertook a life of penance by going along with them was the ideal wife. Ramayan tells us about the duties of a son to his father and the bond that ought to exist among brothers and the righteousness exhibited by Bharat when he refused the crown and slipped into the role of caretaker till his brother Ram came back to be crowned as the rightful heir to the crown. I have read Rajaji’s version of Ramayan and listened to various debates concerning the characters in the epic.
All this was easy for me having been born a Hindu. I have accepted the divinity in the character of Ram without question. I feel that in these days of terrorism and changing equation of interpersonal relationships the epic ought to be read and analyzed even by skeptics who question the godliness of the characters. We are living in turbulent times. Unity and integrity at every level needs to be emphasized and the stipulations of good governance understood. There are other aspects like monogamy and loyalty to one’s spouse that are dealt with in the story. There is a dialogue by Lord Ram’s father spoken at the time of his marriage that every parent should realize when the son’s marriage is proposed and negotiated. He says that the girl’s father is giving away his daughter and the boy accepts the girl as wife. The hand of the acceptor has to be at a lower level and he has to always be thankful to the donor for giving away something that was precious and invaluable to him. If every family learnt to look at marriage this way all the fuss created over trivial issues at the time of marriage by the groom’s party could be avoided. The worth and value of the daughter in law/ wife would be realized and all the young girls who responded to my previous blog would feel loved and accepted.
All this was easy for me having been born a Hindu. I have accepted the divinity in the character of Ram without question. I feel that in these days of terrorism and changing equation of interpersonal relationships the epic ought to be read and analyzed even by skeptics who question the godliness of the characters. We are living in turbulent times. Unity and integrity at every level needs to be emphasized and the stipulations of good governance understood. There are other aspects like monogamy and loyalty to one’s spouse that are dealt with in the story. There is a dialogue by Lord Ram’s father spoken at the time of his marriage that every parent should realize when the son’s marriage is proposed and negotiated. He says that the girl’s father is giving away his daughter and the boy accepts the girl as wife. The hand of the acceptor has to be at a lower level and he has to always be thankful to the donor for giving away something that was precious and invaluable to him. If every family learnt to look at marriage this way all the fuss created over trivial issues at the time of marriage by the groom’s party could be avoided. The worth and value of the daughter in law/ wife would be realized and all the young girls who responded to my previous blog would feel loved and accepted.
Friday, March 23, 2007
Saas_bahu - my take
I read with interest Usha Vaidyanathan’s “Saas_bahu-my take” and wanted to do a sequel from my point of view. I have referred to the relationship between a daughter in law and the members of her newly acquired family in earlier posts in a light and not so light vein. This time I wish to deal with it as my thirty four years of experience allows me to view it. Please try to analyze the issue with the patience it deserves.
Times have changed or so they say. However, the tussle between mothers in law and daughters in law remains the same. We rarely hear of problems between a daughter in law and the male members of the family. It is always a sister in law, a co – sister and a mother in law who are declared as trouble makers. Is this perhaps because women are emotionally vulnerable? I wouldn’t know for sure.
Fellow blogger Balaji once mentioned in a comment to one of my posts that his mother and paternal grand mother got on well with each other and though his mother belonged to a well to do family she had no adjustment problems and even supplemented the family income by preparing pappadams for sale. The two women would attend community celebrations of Navarathri happily contributing in their own way by arranging for the puja and helping out in the decorations. Another blogger Ardra had a similar story to share and had a kind word for her mother in law whom she calls valliamma which is a Malayalam word that, if I am not wrong translates as ‘big mother’. I often wonder if I would get a daughter in law who’d be willing to bond with me the way I myself bonded with my husband’s family. I am willing to walk the extra mile in making sure that she is at home with me. In these days of ‘hi and bye’ am I asking for too much?
There is an opinion that joint families are the cause of tension between MIL/DIl. Financial insecurity is another reason. Financial insecurity in a joint family is like adding fuel to fire. My own experience is different. I took time to bond – a couple of years perhaps. But it was possible mainly because my in laws were staying with us. Children came along and the love and affection they showered on them and the liberty they took to correct them when they were wrong, will remain as pleasant memories all my life. Artnavy had mentioned that her mother and grandmother would gang up against her father. Such was the bond they enjoyed. Her comments took me back in time and I recalled instances when my mother in law stood up for me. When I think of those early years in a strange environment with people diametrically opposite to me, I seem to have forgotten the emotional and financial tensions I faced and remember only the nice things.
Joint families have almost disappeared. Most parents have enough financial resources to see them through their old age. All they require is a little care and concern. It is the responsibility of a son/daughter to help their spouse to bond with their family. Long distance relationships take a while to develop. Let it happen naturally. I was surprised that many young women staying abroad leading a fairly independent existence bearing a grudge against their in laws for non existent reasons. This is only because they have not spent time with them. Men are less emotional. My husband hardly calls up anyone unless he has something to say. I am the one who talks to his sister and sister in law. So is it with many other men including my son. It is not as if they lack affection. It is just that they do not have that many topics to talk about. That does not mean that the daughter in law also has to maintain a distance. In an alien environment I found myself talking in sign language to Chinese and Japanese grandmothers. We were all grandmothers exchanging notes on the progress of our grandkids. Is it not possible to extend the same courtesy to the couple who happen to be your husband’s parents? They wait for those weekly phone calls just to hear about your children and you. A mother in law may not be the same as your mother. She can at least be the next best. Minor irritations are best ignored and whether mother or daughter in law they need to be accepted with their shortcomings. A little effort and lots of patience will make it so much easier for all. Good luck!!
Times have changed or so they say. However, the tussle between mothers in law and daughters in law remains the same. We rarely hear of problems between a daughter in law and the male members of the family. It is always a sister in law, a co – sister and a mother in law who are declared as trouble makers. Is this perhaps because women are emotionally vulnerable? I wouldn’t know for sure.
Fellow blogger Balaji once mentioned in a comment to one of my posts that his mother and paternal grand mother got on well with each other and though his mother belonged to a well to do family she had no adjustment problems and even supplemented the family income by preparing pappadams for sale. The two women would attend community celebrations of Navarathri happily contributing in their own way by arranging for the puja and helping out in the decorations. Another blogger Ardra had a similar story to share and had a kind word for her mother in law whom she calls valliamma which is a Malayalam word that, if I am not wrong translates as ‘big mother’. I often wonder if I would get a daughter in law who’d be willing to bond with me the way I myself bonded with my husband’s family. I am willing to walk the extra mile in making sure that she is at home with me. In these days of ‘hi and bye’ am I asking for too much?
There is an opinion that joint families are the cause of tension between MIL/DIl. Financial insecurity is another reason. Financial insecurity in a joint family is like adding fuel to fire. My own experience is different. I took time to bond – a couple of years perhaps. But it was possible mainly because my in laws were staying with us. Children came along and the love and affection they showered on them and the liberty they took to correct them when they were wrong, will remain as pleasant memories all my life. Artnavy had mentioned that her mother and grandmother would gang up against her father. Such was the bond they enjoyed. Her comments took me back in time and I recalled instances when my mother in law stood up for me. When I think of those early years in a strange environment with people diametrically opposite to me, I seem to have forgotten the emotional and financial tensions I faced and remember only the nice things.
Joint families have almost disappeared. Most parents have enough financial resources to see them through their old age. All they require is a little care and concern. It is the responsibility of a son/daughter to help their spouse to bond with their family. Long distance relationships take a while to develop. Let it happen naturally. I was surprised that many young women staying abroad leading a fairly independent existence bearing a grudge against their in laws for non existent reasons. This is only because they have not spent time with them. Men are less emotional. My husband hardly calls up anyone unless he has something to say. I am the one who talks to his sister and sister in law. So is it with many other men including my son. It is not as if they lack affection. It is just that they do not have that many topics to talk about. That does not mean that the daughter in law also has to maintain a distance. In an alien environment I found myself talking in sign language to Chinese and Japanese grandmothers. We were all grandmothers exchanging notes on the progress of our grandkids. Is it not possible to extend the same courtesy to the couple who happen to be your husband’s parents? They wait for those weekly phone calls just to hear about your children and you. A mother in law may not be the same as your mother. She can at least be the next best. Minor irritations are best ignored and whether mother or daughter in law they need to be accepted with their shortcomings. A little effort and lots of patience will make it so much easier for all. Good luck!!
Sunday, March 18, 2007
A RUNNING NOSE
My husband’s problem began when we went to the US last time. Within a week of our arrival he caught a persistent cold. Change of weather could be the cause he insisted. He refused to see a doctor and stuck to mild, over the counter pills that we had taken along.
A fortnight went by and there was no relief. My husband calls me adamant but he was now stuck with a companion that made me appear the most adjusting soul mate. It was perhaps due to non - stop air conditioning I suggested and my daughter regulated the temperature to a suitable level. Two months gone and still there was no relief.
“My system is perhaps used to air pollutants so this dust free environment does not seem to suit me” my husband tried to make a joke of it. I knew better. He was beginning to get worried. A running nose was now accompanied by a nagging headache and breathlessness.
“His resistance is low mummy ask him to give up tobacco” whispered my daughter.
I knew that it was easier said than done so I kept quiet. We finally cut short our trip and returned to India. I was kind of certain that once we reached India his condition would improve but that was not to be. Courses of antibiotics supplemented by steam inhalation, a switchover to homoeopathic treatment, and chest massage with mustard oil were all tried but none of these gave him any relief. Now I was beginning to get worried. I hadn’t realized that a common cold could give us sleepless nights. Unknown to him I looked up the Internet for the various causes of a running nose. We finally thought of going for master check up and headed towards Chennai.
Now, Chennai is a metropolis a far cry from the cozy township we live in. There were dozens of well-established hospitals and private nursing homes and each one of them seemed to have an impressive record. My husband suffers from selective xenophobia that gets worse when I’m with him. He is never comfortable with taxi drivers and prefers to take a bus. He is forever unsure of the routes and the mortified look on his face was sure to reveal that we were new to the place to anyone who had the time to observe. It took us a day to choose an appropriate nursing home that would cater to our need and suit our budget as well. We finally decided on a clinic that clinic looked impressive. We walked in and asked to see the doctor at the reception.
“Please pay an advance of Rupees Two Thousand at the counter” said the receptionist in an artificially sweet voice.
“We’re here only for consultation” I said “that can’t cost so much.”
The receptionist began to get impatient.
“Ma’am” she said in a tone that now contained no artificial sweetener “ any one who comes here has to have a few routine tests performed. The senior doctor will see your husband only after that.”
“And what would those ‘few’ routine tests be?” Now it was my turn to lose patience.
“ECG, chest X ray, lipid profile, CT scan, blood sugar and pressure, urine creatinin and culture test and any other test as the junior doctors decide as imperative. Next” the receptionist called out to the next patient.
“ What did she say?” my husband who was standing by my side asked.
One would have thought that he did not understand Tamil. I patiently repeated the entire conversation.
“ Ask her if we can get these tests done elsewhere.” My husband behaved as if he avoided talking to ladies.
Like a mediator I repeated his question to the lady at the counter.
“No way!” the lady seemed appalled “ The senior would never trust results from any other lab.”
We paid the money and awaited our turn. My husband continued to rave and rant against the system. His tirade continued non-stop making other patients turn around and take notice. I had a tough time in getting him to calm down.
It took us two hours to get all the tests done and finally a team of junior doctors examined my husband.
“Sir, your problem is due to water filled nasal polyps caused due to allergy” the doctor said “ the senior will see you and decide on the line of treatment.”
We waited patiently for another hour. There was no sign of being called in by the senior.
We went to the junior doctor to find out whether his senior would make himself available that day.
“He is now in the middle of a teleconference” he said “ he will start seeing patients once he is through”
Another hour passed. No sign yet of the teleconference having ended. The junior doctors continued to laugh and talk among themselves.
My husband just could not take any more of their apathetic attitude. He walked into the senior doctor’s chamber unannounced.
The senior doctor was seated in a high chair talking over the phone while taking sips of hot coffee in between.
“How is the weather in Singapore?” he was asking, “raining? Why don’t you send us a few showers? We’re being burnt alive in Chennai. We plan to come over to shop for our daughter’s marriage.”
We could only hear his side of the conversation and he continued.
“I’ll be sending you an experienced technician. Pay him 40,000/- dollars per annum. He will not agree to anything less than that.
He stopped short on seeing us at the door.
It was my husband’s turn to talk.
“Sir, so this was the teleconference you were having when at least a hundred of us waiting for our turn to see you. Don’t you realize that its our money that will pay for your trip to Singapore apart from the commission you may be earning by recruiting nurses and technicians for your friend….”
He might have continued but I managed to drag him out of the room.
In the meanwhile the junior doctor who came rushing apologized profusely first to his senior and next to my husband. As a reward for his outburst my husband was sent in immediately.
The senior doctor repeated what his junior had already told us and suggested that his nasal polyps be surgically removed.
“Sir,” said my husband “ How much would the operation cost and would the cure be permanent?”
“No guarantee” the doctor replied, “ The operation can improve the quality of your life for the time being but if your system is exposed to the allergen polyps can recur.”
“Sir” my husband asked, “Is there any means of identifying the source of allergy?”
“Dr. Mukund” called out our senior doctor “What are you doing yaar?. Why don’t you clarify this gentleman’s doubts? I cannot talk to him all day.”
His junior promptly led us out of the chamber and gave a new list of tests to be performed at the laboratory of the doctor’s classmate.
“Why not elsewhere?” my husband asked. “Sir, we are new to the place and have a lot of trouble in tracing different localities. There is a lab near the place where we are put up. Why can’t we get these tests done there?”
“The choice is yours,” said the doctor “you either go to the place suggested by us or go elsewhere for you treatment. But remember if you change doctors at this stage the tests already done at our clinic may not be acceptable to your treating doctor.”
“My mind is made up,” replied my husband “ I’m not interested in sponsoring your senior’s trip to Singapore. I prefer to pamper my running nose. Goodbye”
We left the place wondering if this is what educated people like us faced what would be the plight of villagers and the many who come to Chennai not knowing a word of the local language. God help them!
A fortnight went by and there was no relief. My husband calls me adamant but he was now stuck with a companion that made me appear the most adjusting soul mate. It was perhaps due to non - stop air conditioning I suggested and my daughter regulated the temperature to a suitable level. Two months gone and still there was no relief.
“My system is perhaps used to air pollutants so this dust free environment does not seem to suit me” my husband tried to make a joke of it. I knew better. He was beginning to get worried. A running nose was now accompanied by a nagging headache and breathlessness.
“His resistance is low mummy ask him to give up tobacco” whispered my daughter.
I knew that it was easier said than done so I kept quiet. We finally cut short our trip and returned to India. I was kind of certain that once we reached India his condition would improve but that was not to be. Courses of antibiotics supplemented by steam inhalation, a switchover to homoeopathic treatment, and chest massage with mustard oil were all tried but none of these gave him any relief. Now I was beginning to get worried. I hadn’t realized that a common cold could give us sleepless nights. Unknown to him I looked up the Internet for the various causes of a running nose. We finally thought of going for master check up and headed towards Chennai.
Now, Chennai is a metropolis a far cry from the cozy township we live in. There were dozens of well-established hospitals and private nursing homes and each one of them seemed to have an impressive record. My husband suffers from selective xenophobia that gets worse when I’m with him. He is never comfortable with taxi drivers and prefers to take a bus. He is forever unsure of the routes and the mortified look on his face was sure to reveal that we were new to the place to anyone who had the time to observe. It took us a day to choose an appropriate nursing home that would cater to our need and suit our budget as well. We finally decided on a clinic that clinic looked impressive. We walked in and asked to see the doctor at the reception.
“Please pay an advance of Rupees Two Thousand at the counter” said the receptionist in an artificially sweet voice.
“We’re here only for consultation” I said “that can’t cost so much.”
The receptionist began to get impatient.
“Ma’am” she said in a tone that now contained no artificial sweetener “ any one who comes here has to have a few routine tests performed. The senior doctor will see your husband only after that.”
“And what would those ‘few’ routine tests be?” Now it was my turn to lose patience.
“ECG, chest X ray, lipid profile, CT scan, blood sugar and pressure, urine creatinin and culture test and any other test as the junior doctors decide as imperative. Next” the receptionist called out to the next patient.
“ What did she say?” my husband who was standing by my side asked.
One would have thought that he did not understand Tamil. I patiently repeated the entire conversation.
“ Ask her if we can get these tests done elsewhere.” My husband behaved as if he avoided talking to ladies.
Like a mediator I repeated his question to the lady at the counter.
“No way!” the lady seemed appalled “ The senior would never trust results from any other lab.”
We paid the money and awaited our turn. My husband continued to rave and rant against the system. His tirade continued non-stop making other patients turn around and take notice. I had a tough time in getting him to calm down.
It took us two hours to get all the tests done and finally a team of junior doctors examined my husband.
“Sir, your problem is due to water filled nasal polyps caused due to allergy” the doctor said “ the senior will see you and decide on the line of treatment.”
We waited patiently for another hour. There was no sign of being called in by the senior.
We went to the junior doctor to find out whether his senior would make himself available that day.
“He is now in the middle of a teleconference” he said “ he will start seeing patients once he is through”
Another hour passed. No sign yet of the teleconference having ended. The junior doctors continued to laugh and talk among themselves.
My husband just could not take any more of their apathetic attitude. He walked into the senior doctor’s chamber unannounced.
The senior doctor was seated in a high chair talking over the phone while taking sips of hot coffee in between.
“How is the weather in Singapore?” he was asking, “raining? Why don’t you send us a few showers? We’re being burnt alive in Chennai. We plan to come over to shop for our daughter’s marriage.”
We could only hear his side of the conversation and he continued.
“I’ll be sending you an experienced technician. Pay him 40,000/- dollars per annum. He will not agree to anything less than that.
He stopped short on seeing us at the door.
It was my husband’s turn to talk.
“Sir, so this was the teleconference you were having when at least a hundred of us waiting for our turn to see you. Don’t you realize that its our money that will pay for your trip to Singapore apart from the commission you may be earning by recruiting nurses and technicians for your friend….”
He might have continued but I managed to drag him out of the room.
In the meanwhile the junior doctor who came rushing apologized profusely first to his senior and next to my husband. As a reward for his outburst my husband was sent in immediately.
The senior doctor repeated what his junior had already told us and suggested that his nasal polyps be surgically removed.
“Sir,” said my husband “ How much would the operation cost and would the cure be permanent?”
“No guarantee” the doctor replied, “ The operation can improve the quality of your life for the time being but if your system is exposed to the allergen polyps can recur.”
“Sir” my husband asked, “Is there any means of identifying the source of allergy?”
“Dr. Mukund” called out our senior doctor “What are you doing yaar?. Why don’t you clarify this gentleman’s doubts? I cannot talk to him all day.”
His junior promptly led us out of the chamber and gave a new list of tests to be performed at the laboratory of the doctor’s classmate.
“Why not elsewhere?” my husband asked. “Sir, we are new to the place and have a lot of trouble in tracing different localities. There is a lab near the place where we are put up. Why can’t we get these tests done there?”
“The choice is yours,” said the doctor “you either go to the place suggested by us or go elsewhere for you treatment. But remember if you change doctors at this stage the tests already done at our clinic may not be acceptable to your treating doctor.”
“My mind is made up,” replied my husband “ I’m not interested in sponsoring your senior’s trip to Singapore. I prefer to pamper my running nose. Goodbye”
We left the place wondering if this is what educated people like us faced what would be the plight of villagers and the many who come to Chennai not knowing a word of the local language. God help them!
Wednesday, March 14, 2007
The soothsayer's words-part III
Sita did not answer for a long time. Ramya was fuming from within but managed to keep her thoughts to herself. How easy it was for these intruders to subject her dear aunt to this sort of emotional black mail. Would all those years lost in solitude ever come back? Finally Sita spoke.
“I’ll accompany you to your place but on one condition.” She said. “Your father should not try to get familiar with me as long as I stay at your place. He is a stranger to me and will always remain so. I have often thought over the joke that my marriage turned into and tried to assess in my mind as to what went wrong. For some strange reason I never felt like blaming your mother. If her troubled mind would find peace on meeting me, so may it be. But my compassion for a dying woman should not be mistaken for any weakness of character. I am well past my youth and it would not harm me to spend the rest of my life with my brother’s family. You are right in a way. If you had not accompanied your father with your personal request I might have found it difficult to believe in the gravity of the situation. Just give me five minutes to pack. We can leave immediately.”
Sita’s brother could not bring himself to send her alone with two men who were practically unknown to her but Sita had no such problem. The three of them left by car and reached Hyderabad early next morning. Hari’s wife Lakshmi was in very bad shape. But her eyes lit up on seeing Sita.
“Akka” she said in a voice that was barely more than a whisper, “I knew you would come” Forgive me for having taken your place in this house. Believe me, I was not aware of your existence at the time of my marriage. In our times we girls were kept out of the negotiations that precede marriage. I often thought of you but could not bring myself to ever meeting you in person.”
“Hush, Lakshmi do not strain yourself” Sita said. “Please do not blame yourself. You must to forget the past and concentrate on getting well.”
“I will Akka” smiled Lakshmi in spite of her pain. “I do want to spend sometime in your company. I want to see you take your rightful place in this house. Only then will I feel forgiven by the almighty.”
Unfortunately Lakshmi’s desire remained unfulfilled and she passed away that very night. Everyone who came for the last rites including Lakshmi’s parents urged Sita to stay on. Hari could not look at Sita in the face much less request her to stay back. Arun was wary of saying anything to the effect lest his intention be misunderstood. He was full of respect for the woman who could have made life hell for his mother but carried herself with a dignity that was difficult to describe. She seemed close enough and yet maintained a distance. She got involved and yet stayed aloof. It was as if she had drawn a line between right and duty and stuck to her duty but never crossed over to claim her rights.
Finally the day came when Sita’s brother who had come for the ceremony to return.
“Pack your things Sita,”he said “let us return home.”
“Let me remain here for a few more years Anna” Sita said “I’ll return once Arun gets married and a daughter in law takes charge of the household. Lakshmi would never forgive me if I left him alone in his grief. He is already twenty three and has taken charge of his father’s business. We can get him to settle down in a year or two. I don’t need to stay here after that.”
Sita’s tone ruled out any further discussion in the matter. At the risk of sounding like the script writer of a Bollywood commercial film, I have to add that Arun did marry Ramya and Sita spent her remaining years fussing over them like a mother hen. She never ever spoke to Hari who in turn respected her wish and accepted her silence as punishment for his conceited indifference towards her for no fault of hers.
It may appear that I was influenced by your inputs to thus end the story. Not at all. This story is based on real life incidents and I have tried my best to report it as such. My question is ‘Was Sita’s decision to accompany Hari and Arun and to continue to stay there even after Lakshmi’s death a sign or weakness?' How would those of you who subscribe to feministic views react to this story? Please remember that all this took place more than 50 years ago.
“I’ll accompany you to your place but on one condition.” She said. “Your father should not try to get familiar with me as long as I stay at your place. He is a stranger to me and will always remain so. I have often thought over the joke that my marriage turned into and tried to assess in my mind as to what went wrong. For some strange reason I never felt like blaming your mother. If her troubled mind would find peace on meeting me, so may it be. But my compassion for a dying woman should not be mistaken for any weakness of character. I am well past my youth and it would not harm me to spend the rest of my life with my brother’s family. You are right in a way. If you had not accompanied your father with your personal request I might have found it difficult to believe in the gravity of the situation. Just give me five minutes to pack. We can leave immediately.”
Sita’s brother could not bring himself to send her alone with two men who were practically unknown to her but Sita had no such problem. The three of them left by car and reached Hyderabad early next morning. Hari’s wife Lakshmi was in very bad shape. But her eyes lit up on seeing Sita.
“Akka” she said in a voice that was barely more than a whisper, “I knew you would come” Forgive me for having taken your place in this house. Believe me, I was not aware of your existence at the time of my marriage. In our times we girls were kept out of the negotiations that precede marriage. I often thought of you but could not bring myself to ever meeting you in person.”
“Hush, Lakshmi do not strain yourself” Sita said. “Please do not blame yourself. You must to forget the past and concentrate on getting well.”
“I will Akka” smiled Lakshmi in spite of her pain. “I do want to spend sometime in your company. I want to see you take your rightful place in this house. Only then will I feel forgiven by the almighty.”
Unfortunately Lakshmi’s desire remained unfulfilled and she passed away that very night. Everyone who came for the last rites including Lakshmi’s parents urged Sita to stay on. Hari could not look at Sita in the face much less request her to stay back. Arun was wary of saying anything to the effect lest his intention be misunderstood. He was full of respect for the woman who could have made life hell for his mother but carried herself with a dignity that was difficult to describe. She seemed close enough and yet maintained a distance. She got involved and yet stayed aloof. It was as if she had drawn a line between right and duty and stuck to her duty but never crossed over to claim her rights.
Finally the day came when Sita’s brother who had come for the ceremony to return.
“Pack your things Sita,”he said “let us return home.”
“Let me remain here for a few more years Anna” Sita said “I’ll return once Arun gets married and a daughter in law takes charge of the household. Lakshmi would never forgive me if I left him alone in his grief. He is already twenty three and has taken charge of his father’s business. We can get him to settle down in a year or two. I don’t need to stay here after that.”
Sita’s tone ruled out any further discussion in the matter. At the risk of sounding like the script writer of a Bollywood commercial film, I have to add that Arun did marry Ramya and Sita spent her remaining years fussing over them like a mother hen. She never ever spoke to Hari who in turn respected her wish and accepted her silence as punishment for his conceited indifference towards her for no fault of hers.
It may appear that I was influenced by your inputs to thus end the story. Not at all. This story is based on real life incidents and I have tried my best to report it as such. My question is ‘Was Sita’s decision to accompany Hari and Arun and to continue to stay there even after Lakshmi’s death a sign or weakness?' How would those of you who subscribe to feministic views react to this story? Please remember that all this took place more than 50 years ago.
Tuesday, March 13, 2007
The soothsayer's words-part II
Hari came the very next day as if he was in a tearing hurry. He had brought his son with him. He was very business like and came to the point without beating round the bush. His wife was suffering from terminal cancer and had only a few months to live. She was full of remorse for what she had done to Sita and wanted to ask for her forgiveness. She was in no condition to travel and could only plead with folded hand that Sita pay her a visit just once. He could not look at Sita in the face and had brought his son to mediate. Sita was at liberty to refuse to accompany him but his family would be indebted to her for ever if she did. Once the two ladies had met and his wife’s troubled conscience had been eased, his son would bring her back.
Sita was dumbfounded. She had not foreseen such a turn of events and did not know how to react. The family was also in a dilemma. A death wish had to be honored but they had no intention of pressurizing Sita.
It was Hari’s son Arun who broke the silence.
“Periamma” he said, addressing Sita directly. “It was my idea to approach you directly with my mother’s plea. My father could never have mustered enough courage to come to your place had I not offered to accompany him. I cannot bear to see my mother suffer in this manner. Steroids and pain killers can alleviate her physical agony. But you alone can give her a peaceful death. She does not have much time nor is she in a condition to travel. I leave it to you to decide.”
(To be continued)
Sita was dumbfounded. She had not foreseen such a turn of events and did not know how to react. The family was also in a dilemma. A death wish had to be honored but they had no intention of pressurizing Sita.
It was Hari’s son Arun who broke the silence.
“Periamma” he said, addressing Sita directly. “It was my idea to approach you directly with my mother’s plea. My father could never have mustered enough courage to come to your place had I not offered to accompany him. I cannot bear to see my mother suffer in this manner. Steroids and pain killers can alleviate her physical agony. But you alone can give her a peaceful death. She does not have much time nor is she in a condition to travel. I leave it to you to decide.”
(To be continued)
Monday, March 12, 2007
The Soothsayer's words
Sita could just not believe her ears. Did she hear right? Was it really a letter from her husband asking for permission to visit them? Her brother brought the letter to her room and asked for her opinion in the matter. His wife was equally indignant.
“Don’t allow the scoundrel to step into our village” she said. “What brings him here after all these years? No way! Akka is fine with us. Why does he was to disturb our peaceful existence?”
When the soothsayer(Kudukudupandi as Tamilians would understand) had announced in the wee hours of the morning that her husband would come looking for her she chose to ignore his words. He would come later in the day and collect some left over food and old clothes as a reward for announcing the impossible. ‘Her husband Hari coming for her?? Impossible’ she had thought. He had left her long back and had maintained no contact since then. She had almost forgotten his face and could not recollect his voice. ‘Had he ever spoken to her’ she wondered, while she smiled to herself at the irony of things. Her marriage had been a farce, her husband having refused to take her along because the color of her skin was in sharp contrast to his. Hers was an arranged marriage and she was just twelve years of age when they married. As was the prevailing custom the elders in the family negotiated and fixed a date for the ceremony. The boy’s mother had come along with a few other ladies to see her and expressed her approval. She had only hazy memories of the event. She had been playing with sea shells in the back yard when her mother dressed her up in haste and presented her to her future mother in law. Someone had asked her to sing and she was sent away after she had prostrated at the feet of those present. Her aunt later informed her that she was to get married to someone in far off Hyderabad.
After her marriage she continued to stay at her parent’s place and was secretly happy to be allowed to remain there. It was her aunt who confided to her in hushed tones that her husband had refused to accept her presence in his house even as a ‘maid servant’. He had married a beautiful girl from a neighboring village. His parents were truly sorry at the turn of events and had even returned the items given as dowry at the time of her marriage. They could do nothing more. Her parents consulted astrologers and palm readers who were unanimous in their opinion. The planetary position as indicated by her horoscope was not favorable to her leading a happy married life. Her parents were in no mood to defy fate and had accepted her presence in their home. She was a great asset to them in her own way. Over the years she had picked up a lot of culinary skills and house keeping. She was mild mannered and adjusted well with her brother’s wives. She was a second mother to their children and an unpaid baby sitter to her neighbors who would leave their children with her when they had any important work to attend to. Twenty five years had gone by and her niece Ramya was now a beautiful young woman studying in college.
“What are you smiling at aunty?” …..
Sita looked up to see Ramya eyeing her with curiosity.
“Nothing” replied Sita “I was thinking of what the soothsayer said. Sometimes they seem to read into the future.”
“And what did he say?” Ramya asked.
“It seems your uncle is going to come for me soon.” Sita’s voice faltered for the first time and unknown to Ramya she wiped a tear drop that slid from her eye.
“Even if he comes you should refuse to go with him. He has no business asking you to accompany him. But wait a second aunty. He may want you to sign some property papers or may be he wants a divorce.” Ramya seemed worried. “You won’t leave us will you? What would we do without you?”
“Don’t be silly child” admonished Sita. “Why would he come for me? He has a family of his own, a beautiful wife, children and a flourishing business. Why would he want a divorce now? I have never interfered with his life nor do I want a share of his property. He should be aware of all this by now.”
“Why then is he asking to visit us?” Ramya persisted.
“You should take up law Ramya.” Laughed Sita. “You’d make an excellent lawyer.”
“This is no laughing matter aunty” Ramya continued to voice her concern. “Amma is right. He should not be granted permission to come.”
“I’ve asked your father to allow him to come if he wants to. But I won’t speak to him. In fact I’ve requested him not to call me to the living room as long as he is here. I don’t even want to see him.”
“Why then should he come at all?” Ramya sounded worried.
“We’ll know soon enough. Now go to sleep. You have college tomorrow.” Sita put an end to the conversation.
(To be continued)
THIS STORY HAS A AN ENDING THAT I SHALL REVEAL LATER.RIGHT NOW I WANT INPUTS FROM YOU.WHAT DO YOU THINK HAPPENED NEXT? The last two post were serious ones we need a diversion.
“Don’t allow the scoundrel to step into our village” she said. “What brings him here after all these years? No way! Akka is fine with us. Why does he was to disturb our peaceful existence?”
When the soothsayer(Kudukudupandi as Tamilians would understand) had announced in the wee hours of the morning that her husband would come looking for her she chose to ignore his words. He would come later in the day and collect some left over food and old clothes as a reward for announcing the impossible. ‘Her husband Hari coming for her?? Impossible’ she had thought. He had left her long back and had maintained no contact since then. She had almost forgotten his face and could not recollect his voice. ‘Had he ever spoken to her’ she wondered, while she smiled to herself at the irony of things. Her marriage had been a farce, her husband having refused to take her along because the color of her skin was in sharp contrast to his. Hers was an arranged marriage and she was just twelve years of age when they married. As was the prevailing custom the elders in the family negotiated and fixed a date for the ceremony. The boy’s mother had come along with a few other ladies to see her and expressed her approval. She had only hazy memories of the event. She had been playing with sea shells in the back yard when her mother dressed her up in haste and presented her to her future mother in law. Someone had asked her to sing and she was sent away after she had prostrated at the feet of those present. Her aunt later informed her that she was to get married to someone in far off Hyderabad.
After her marriage she continued to stay at her parent’s place and was secretly happy to be allowed to remain there. It was her aunt who confided to her in hushed tones that her husband had refused to accept her presence in his house even as a ‘maid servant’. He had married a beautiful girl from a neighboring village. His parents were truly sorry at the turn of events and had even returned the items given as dowry at the time of her marriage. They could do nothing more. Her parents consulted astrologers and palm readers who were unanimous in their opinion. The planetary position as indicated by her horoscope was not favorable to her leading a happy married life. Her parents were in no mood to defy fate and had accepted her presence in their home. She was a great asset to them in her own way. Over the years she had picked up a lot of culinary skills and house keeping. She was mild mannered and adjusted well with her brother’s wives. She was a second mother to their children and an unpaid baby sitter to her neighbors who would leave their children with her when they had any important work to attend to. Twenty five years had gone by and her niece Ramya was now a beautiful young woman studying in college.
“What are you smiling at aunty?” …..
Sita looked up to see Ramya eyeing her with curiosity.
“Nothing” replied Sita “I was thinking of what the soothsayer said. Sometimes they seem to read into the future.”
“And what did he say?” Ramya asked.
“It seems your uncle is going to come for me soon.” Sita’s voice faltered for the first time and unknown to Ramya she wiped a tear drop that slid from her eye.
“Even if he comes you should refuse to go with him. He has no business asking you to accompany him. But wait a second aunty. He may want you to sign some property papers or may be he wants a divorce.” Ramya seemed worried. “You won’t leave us will you? What would we do without you?”
“Don’t be silly child” admonished Sita. “Why would he come for me? He has a family of his own, a beautiful wife, children and a flourishing business. Why would he want a divorce now? I have never interfered with his life nor do I want a share of his property. He should be aware of all this by now.”
“Why then is he asking to visit us?” Ramya persisted.
“You should take up law Ramya.” Laughed Sita. “You’d make an excellent lawyer.”
“This is no laughing matter aunty” Ramya continued to voice her concern. “Amma is right. He should not be granted permission to come.”
“I’ve asked your father to allow him to come if he wants to. But I won’t speak to him. In fact I’ve requested him not to call me to the living room as long as he is here. I don’t even want to see him.”
“Why then should he come at all?” Ramya sounded worried.
“We’ll know soon enough. Now go to sleep. You have college tomorrow.” Sita put an end to the conversation.
(To be continued)
THIS STORY HAS A AN ENDING THAT I SHALL REVEAL LATER.RIGHT NOW I WANT INPUTS FROM YOU.WHAT DO YOU THINK HAPPENED NEXT? The last two post were serious ones we need a diversion.
Saturday, March 10, 2007
Wake Up and Act
I had resolved right at the onset of the year 2007 that I would try to do my bit to create awareness among my students about the socio-medical problems that would result in society on account of female feticide and infanticide. I am indeed lucky to have students who are receptive and look forward to these sessions. These are simple girls with a middle class background neither too ambitious nor over smart. I have also converted this time into one in which they can try expressing themselves in English. Since I make a note of their errors in expression the girls love pointing out to mistakes made by their friends who in turn wait for their turn to settle scores. All this is done in good spirit with all of them learning a lot in the process. On one such occasion I tried to generate opinion on what they perceive as reasons for a mother giving into pressure from their husbands or relatives to abort her unborn girl child. The response was almost unanimous. Their mothers keep mentioning about the financial strain that the family would face at the time of their marriage. In families where there was no male child the pressure on parents was even more. They fear that while they would do their best to procure a well employed groom for their daughters they themselves could have no expectations from their sons in law or daughters. The girls also felt that their mothers were also under pressure from their grandparents who believed that a grandson alone had a role to play in the performance of their last rites, to try again and again for a male issue. These mothers in turn opted for Sex Determination tests and chose to abort the unborn female child, very often much against their will. The awareness and easy availability of such tests to the middle class has only compounded the problem. Education, instead of helping them to stand up against their families, has only made them opt for the seemingly easy way out.
In the program I mentioned in my previous post, the secretary of the NGO group that works for child rights gave a heart rending account of a practice that is followed in rural Rajasthan. This may be the case in other states as well. Some of you could perhaps share more information in this regard.
It seems when a pregnant woman goes into labor the male members of the family wait in the front verandah or living room while the female huddle into a room in the interior with some older woman attending to the lady in question. The birth of a son is announced with gun shots in the air and bursting of fire crackers, but if the infant is a girl an elderly woman comes out and asks-
“ Baraat ko rehney doon ya lauta doon?” meaning “Shall I let the marriage party remain or should I send them back?”
The males then decide whether the girl should be allowed to live or not. If they decide that the girl should not live, the next question asked is “How should the ‘baraat’ be returned?” The male members then decide how the child may be put to death-the most common method being to stuff the baby’s mouth with tobacco.
Friends, it is not my intention to depress you. Those of us who can make an impact should do our bit by educating those around us of the social issues that can crop up if the female population dwindled. We may have more Draupadis marrying 5 men at the same time or prostitution may be legalized. Rapes and unwanted pregnancies may increase and we’d be hearing about love octagons instead of love triangles. I am not joking at all and believe me if this continues we will return to Stone Age very soon
In the program I mentioned in my previous post, the secretary of the NGO group that works for child rights gave a heart rending account of a practice that is followed in rural Rajasthan. This may be the case in other states as well. Some of you could perhaps share more information in this regard.
It seems when a pregnant woman goes into labor the male members of the family wait in the front verandah or living room while the female huddle into a room in the interior with some older woman attending to the lady in question. The birth of a son is announced with gun shots in the air and bursting of fire crackers, but if the infant is a girl an elderly woman comes out and asks-
“ Baraat ko rehney doon ya lauta doon?” meaning “Shall I let the marriage party remain or should I send them back?”
The males then decide whether the girl should be allowed to live or not. If they decide that the girl should not live, the next question asked is “How should the ‘baraat’ be returned?” The male members then decide how the child may be put to death-the most common method being to stuff the baby’s mouth with tobacco.
Friends, it is not my intention to depress you. Those of us who can make an impact should do our bit by educating those around us of the social issues that can crop up if the female population dwindled. We may have more Draupadis marrying 5 men at the same time or prostitution may be legalized. Rapes and unwanted pregnancies may increase and we’d be hearing about love octagons instead of love triangles. I am not joking at all and believe me if this continues we will return to Stone Age very soon
My thoughts on Women's Day
March 8th was International Women’s Day and women from all over the world would be reviewing their status as home makers, income generators and child bearers. Meetings will be held and the rights of women will be emphasized. I am sure Women Organizations all over the world are doing their best to educate women to fight oppression and to stand up for themselves. I do not have to add to what has already been stressed so many times. I wish to direct your attention to something entirely different - the mental block a woman suffers from, that in turn makes her willingly accept a sub-ordinate role in society.
We have women who have been earning member’s of their families but take pride in saying that they never go to the bank to draw money. Their pass books are updated by their husbands and they wouldn’t know their increment date. They cannot/will not fill out a railway reservation slip, let alone income tax return forms. It suits them to remain so. We have college teachers who pay Rs.100/- to clerks who are much less educated to fill out these forms and submit them at the appropriate counter. I wonder if all this talk of WOMEN EMPOWERMENT has any meaning in their lives. “All this is so complicated. I’d rather pay money to get it done” is what they say. These decked up dolls claim that they are being exploited.
I attended a program that marked the International women’s day and came back disillusioned and dejected. The central theme was female feticide. Survey in East Singhbhum district where I live, showed that the decline in female population was sharper in urban rather than rural areas. Earlier only the upper class could afford these tests but now even middle class families availed the services of clinics that offered sex determination test facilities registered or otherwise. Education/literacy and empowerment of women were not correlative. Having a job did not automatically ensure empowerment. They still yielded to pressure from their families. Or did they also perhaps believe that a girl child was a liability?
I shall discuss the issue of female feticide later. Let me put down a few points that come to my mind regarding women empowerment.
1) Women must learn to respect and love themselves. Self esteem alone can empower them.
2) Women must learn to take responsibility. Rights and duty go hand in hand.
3) Mothers have to teach their sons to respect women.
4) Disparity among men and women is man made and not god given. It needs to be overcome.
5) The girl child needs to be told by her that she is not ‘paraya dhan’ but an important permanent member of her maternal home, entitled to their love and affection as much as her brother. This will go a long way in making her aware of her duties to her parents. A woman who has the affection and support of her parents will be respected better by her husband and his family.
We have women who have been earning member’s of their families but take pride in saying that they never go to the bank to draw money. Their pass books are updated by their husbands and they wouldn’t know their increment date. They cannot/will not fill out a railway reservation slip, let alone income tax return forms. It suits them to remain so. We have college teachers who pay Rs.100/- to clerks who are much less educated to fill out these forms and submit them at the appropriate counter. I wonder if all this talk of WOMEN EMPOWERMENT has any meaning in their lives. “All this is so complicated. I’d rather pay money to get it done” is what they say. These decked up dolls claim that they are being exploited.
I attended a program that marked the International women’s day and came back disillusioned and dejected. The central theme was female feticide. Survey in East Singhbhum district where I live, showed that the decline in female population was sharper in urban rather than rural areas. Earlier only the upper class could afford these tests but now even middle class families availed the services of clinics that offered sex determination test facilities registered or otherwise. Education/literacy and empowerment of women were not correlative. Having a job did not automatically ensure empowerment. They still yielded to pressure from their families. Or did they also perhaps believe that a girl child was a liability?
I shall discuss the issue of female feticide later. Let me put down a few points that come to my mind regarding women empowerment.
1) Women must learn to respect and love themselves. Self esteem alone can empower them.
2) Women must learn to take responsibility. Rights and duty go hand in hand.
3) Mothers have to teach their sons to respect women.
4) Disparity among men and women is man made and not god given. It needs to be overcome.
5) The girl child needs to be told by her that she is not ‘paraya dhan’ but an important permanent member of her maternal home, entitled to their love and affection as much as her brother. This will go a long way in making her aware of her duties to her parents. A woman who has the affection and support of her parents will be respected better by her husband and his family.
Thursday, March 08, 2007
Trying out the visual tag
Itching to write taged me with this one.it was fun doing it.Will hill gmom please take it up?
Sunday, February 25, 2007
Hasty Climbers
They say Power Corrupts. I took it to mean that Power leads to corrupt practices like favoritism and bribery and/or misuse of power for selfish practices. But a recent incidence made me realize that apart from the dangers mentioned, power is also intoxicating and like any other addiction Power too blurs the senses and impairs one’s capacity to think logically. Very often one is goaded into over reacting and taking things too far sometimes almost to a point of no return. There have been quite a few incidences like the one I plan to take up. But the same circumstances might have been dealt with in a different manner some 10 years back. Not so now with the kind of exposure children get these days. One has to be extra careful while dealing with adolescents whether parents or teachers. Let me come to the unfortunate incidence that bothers me.
A teenager who is to appear for his 10th board exams was intelligent but over confident. He regularly led any form of protest in school justified or otherwise to the extent of being noticed and singled out by the Head mistress. He was naturally goaded by his peers who supported and prompted his actions. The Head Mistress also bided her time to put him in his place. When the admit cards for the Matriculation exams arrived she refused to give it to him saying that his attendance was a few days short of the required 75% and he could therefore not appear for the exam. She perhaps expected him to apologize and plead to be given his admit card. The next logical step according to her could have been the arrival of his parents to plead his case. I am sure that she would have given him the admit card after a warning. The boy did nothing of the sort. He dared her to stop him from answering the examination and claimed that he would make her deliver the admit card at his residence. It became a prestige issue for the HM who could not bring herself to give in at this stage. The boy approached the District Commissioner and briefed him about the HM’s stand, requested him to do the needful and went home. The DC directed the school to issue the required document saying that since the boy’s form had been verified and forwarded to the Board by the school and his examination fee had also been accepted, he could not be barred from appearing for the examination. The head Mistress had to finally go to his house to give the admit card because the boy refused to come to school to take it. The student community was naturally elated.
My heart goes out to the Head Mistress who should have weighed the pros and cons before deciding to withhold the admit card. As it happens everywhere she might have been advised by a ‘yes ma’am’ group or she might not have foreseen such a reaction from the student. Those in a position of power need to remain cool and assess the repercussions of their action, taking care not to let their power and position get into their heads. However more than what the Head Mistress had to face, I fear the impact the incidence is bound to have on the student community and the boy in question. The boy is not yet 18 years of age and he has already tasted power. What will his future be? Will the learning process be compromised? He could well be an asset to our society but will he let people guide and direct him? There are many more like him. How do we save their future? What should be the role of parents in seeing to it that their wards do not start soaring high even before their wings have acquired the required strength? There is a popular saying - ‘hasty climbers soon to fall’. I often see parents being over protective about their children and cannot accept criticism of their wards from their own parents. There is a danger of skewed mental growth due such an attitude and that is dangerous not only for society but to the children in question who will not strive for improvement.
A teenager who is to appear for his 10th board exams was intelligent but over confident. He regularly led any form of protest in school justified or otherwise to the extent of being noticed and singled out by the Head mistress. He was naturally goaded by his peers who supported and prompted his actions. The Head Mistress also bided her time to put him in his place. When the admit cards for the Matriculation exams arrived she refused to give it to him saying that his attendance was a few days short of the required 75% and he could therefore not appear for the exam. She perhaps expected him to apologize and plead to be given his admit card. The next logical step according to her could have been the arrival of his parents to plead his case. I am sure that she would have given him the admit card after a warning. The boy did nothing of the sort. He dared her to stop him from answering the examination and claimed that he would make her deliver the admit card at his residence. It became a prestige issue for the HM who could not bring herself to give in at this stage. The boy approached the District Commissioner and briefed him about the HM’s stand, requested him to do the needful and went home. The DC directed the school to issue the required document saying that since the boy’s form had been verified and forwarded to the Board by the school and his examination fee had also been accepted, he could not be barred from appearing for the examination. The head Mistress had to finally go to his house to give the admit card because the boy refused to come to school to take it. The student community was naturally elated.
My heart goes out to the Head Mistress who should have weighed the pros and cons before deciding to withhold the admit card. As it happens everywhere she might have been advised by a ‘yes ma’am’ group or she might not have foreseen such a reaction from the student. Those in a position of power need to remain cool and assess the repercussions of their action, taking care not to let their power and position get into their heads. However more than what the Head Mistress had to face, I fear the impact the incidence is bound to have on the student community and the boy in question. The boy is not yet 18 years of age and he has already tasted power. What will his future be? Will the learning process be compromised? He could well be an asset to our society but will he let people guide and direct him? There are many more like him. How do we save their future? What should be the role of parents in seeing to it that their wards do not start soaring high even before their wings have acquired the required strength? There is a popular saying - ‘hasty climbers soon to fall’. I often see parents being over protective about their children and cannot accept criticism of their wards from their own parents. There is a danger of skewed mental growth due such an attitude and that is dangerous not only for society but to the children in question who will not strive for improvement.
Tuesday, February 13, 2007
I surrender
I tell you that I am in awe of the present generation. I feel scared to open my mouth when in the company of children in their pre teens. I become partially deaf and/or dumb when left to deal with them. Let me explain.
In a recent visit to Chennai I met a five year old nephew-the son of a distant cousin. I tried to engage him in a conversation just to keep him from running around.
“Do you go to school?” I asked him in English.
He looked suspiciously at me.
“Yes” he replied in Tamil.
“Which school?” I continued my side of the conversation in English.
He mentioned a name which did not register.
“Do you like your school?” I asked.
He asked me a counter question.
“Are you a teacher?”
“I am your aunt. But why do you ask?” I had a feeling that I was being cornered.
“Then why do you talk in English like my teacher?” and after a moment added, “Why do you talk in English at home?”
His question set me thinking. Having spent a good deal of time in Jamshedpur I seem to be comfortable switching from Tamil to Hindi and English according to the company of people I deal with at a given time. With my husband it is always Tamil and Hinglish or Hindi with my children. I seem to combine Tamil, English and Hindi with an ease that surprises me more than others. My students are mostly from Hindi medium schools so I deliver my lecture in English but simultaneously explain in Hindi too. In the 25 years that I’ve worked my Hindi has improved a lot. I had no answer to the little boy’s pertinent question. Had I insisted on talking in Tamil at home my children’s Tamil would not have been so pathetic. I wonder if there is anything I can do to rectify the situation. I derive some kind of satisfaction when I see that my Tamil has not deteriorated a bit. If it had, the little boy would have been correcting my mistakes.
Children these days are simply brilliant. With the kind of exposure they get, they are not children but mini adults. There is a story that does the round in our family. In order to make a troublesome child finish his food, my aunt asked my 8 year old cousin ‘to call the beggar from the street corner’ to take the child away in a gunny bag. My cousin really went looking for a beggar and came back with one having promised to give him left over food for taking the child away! Such was the innocence displayed by our generation. I dare not narrate this story to the present day kids lest they consider me a fool! I hope you now understand why I take advantage of my age and hear only half of what I am supposed to.
In a recent visit to Chennai I met a five year old nephew-the son of a distant cousin. I tried to engage him in a conversation just to keep him from running around.
“Do you go to school?” I asked him in English.
He looked suspiciously at me.
“Yes” he replied in Tamil.
“Which school?” I continued my side of the conversation in English.
He mentioned a name which did not register.
“Do you like your school?” I asked.
He asked me a counter question.
“Are you a teacher?”
“I am your aunt. But why do you ask?” I had a feeling that I was being cornered.
“Then why do you talk in English like my teacher?” and after a moment added, “Why do you talk in English at home?”
His question set me thinking. Having spent a good deal of time in Jamshedpur I seem to be comfortable switching from Tamil to Hindi and English according to the company of people I deal with at a given time. With my husband it is always Tamil and Hinglish or Hindi with my children. I seem to combine Tamil, English and Hindi with an ease that surprises me more than others. My students are mostly from Hindi medium schools so I deliver my lecture in English but simultaneously explain in Hindi too. In the 25 years that I’ve worked my Hindi has improved a lot. I had no answer to the little boy’s pertinent question. Had I insisted on talking in Tamil at home my children’s Tamil would not have been so pathetic. I wonder if there is anything I can do to rectify the situation. I derive some kind of satisfaction when I see that my Tamil has not deteriorated a bit. If it had, the little boy would have been correcting my mistakes.
Children these days are simply brilliant. With the kind of exposure they get, they are not children but mini adults. There is a story that does the round in our family. In order to make a troublesome child finish his food, my aunt asked my 8 year old cousin ‘to call the beggar from the street corner’ to take the child away in a gunny bag. My cousin really went looking for a beggar and came back with one having promised to give him left over food for taking the child away! Such was the innocence displayed by our generation. I dare not narrate this story to the present day kids lest they consider me a fool! I hope you now understand why I take advantage of my age and hear only half of what I am supposed to.
Thursday, February 08, 2007
Falling leaves
Why are those who are so very important to their families asked to wind up and return to their heavenly abode leaving much of their work either undone or only half done? How does one explain why a ninety six year old man, whose sons and sons-in-law have retired, manages to survive 3 heart attacks and continues to live partly bed ridden much to the dismay of his family members who feel tied down on account of him?
Some forty-two years back my dad was given 6 to 8 months to live after cancer struck him without a warning. My younger brothers were just 3 and five years of age and it was unfair that they should be deprived of their father’s affection so early in life. In my naivety I prayed hard that I would willingly suffer and die on his behalf if only God granted him a lease of life. I was about fourteen years old and we were doing Moghul History. The story of emperor Babur who prayed for his son Humayun’s recovery and how he fell ill and died while Humayun recovered, seemed so impressive!. I studied in a Christian Missinary school and had a kind of bargaining session with God. I offered to convert to Christianity if only he allowed me to die in my father’s place. I made a quick mental calculation that since I would die in any case, it would hardly matter whether I converted or remained a Hindu. I only hoped that my mother would understand my reasons for doing so. But nothing happened. My father died in about 8 months and my maternal grandfather who was a practicing lawyer took over and life went on. Today I realize that life is not that simple and we all have a role to fulfill. Conversion too involves one’s head and heart and is not a business deal.
Since then I seem to make a special note of more such cases. M…. the Accounts Assistant in our college was not only an expert in her work but a caring mother too. I met on a Diwali day and she told me that she had sent her daughter to her mother’s place for the day. There was nothing unusual about a child spending a day at her grand mom’s place. What was unusual was the fact that the girl had been left there on her own for the first time. Little did M... know that the girl was to be totally left in the care of her grandmothers very soon? The day after I met her, M… fell sick, medical tests, hospitalization and emergency surgery followed and finally in less than 3 months she left us forever. The same was the fate of V…. who was in the Examination Department. Both of them were troubled with occasional gastric problems and would joke about starting a new Graduate School in heaven. Both of them left behind girls in their pre teens that were looked after by their relatives while the surviving parent was busy with office work.
And there was Dr. M.... who was an asset to our college. She was a born fighter. Her husband’s business wasn’t doing well and her children needed help in their studies. She did not want to unnecessarily spend for tuitions. She therefore would first come to us with doubts in Science subjects. (She was in the English Department) She would understand the concepts herself and then teach her children. She got a grant from UGC to carryout postdoctoral research in tribal languages and was doing a great job of it. She suddenly lost her voice and we thought it was a throat infection. We were amused at the way she’d write out whatever she wanted to say and even joked that it would be better if we all spoke less and worked more. She recovered her voice but the diagnosis was not good. Hers was a rare condition of an atypical cancer growth in the lungs where the line of treatment was more speculative than direct. I, for one, felt that it was unfair that a person of her caliber should be allowed to pass on. Time and tide wait for none. On the very day that tsunami struck Mimi joined the victims of tsunami in their final journey while her family dealt with a tsunami of its own.
Such examples leave me frustrated. I have a paternal aunt who is ninety-four years old. She has lost three of her four sons and last year she lost her only surviving brother too. She found her own way to deal with her grief. She has chosen to live on her own and says that keeping herself busy is important to her. I know better. She wants to be left alone to grieve in private.
Strange are the ways of God. When he takes away a parent he takes it on Himself to ensure the family’s well being. He does send someone to care for the children and often such children show a maturity and responsibility not found among their more fortunate counterparts. Very often, such people who are called back are assets to society and their family and the question oft asked is “What next?” However important the person may have been, life goes on with or without him/her. Is there perhaps some element of truth in the sentence I often hear when people refer to my father- that his blessings have accomplished that which he could not have done himself?
M… would have been proud of her daughter who has accomplished a lot as a golf player and has won a scholarship and has left for the USA where she pursues her studies. The same is true of M… the accounts assistant’s daughter. By some co-incidence I happened to read a poem relevant to this post. The jist of the poem was that the leaf that falls first laments the fact and asks why it should be the first to fall when all other leaves were merrily swaying and having fun. The leaf that was still stuck to the branch, while all its “branch brothers” had fallen, asks why it should be the last to go? Neither state is desirable but there is little one can do about it.
Some forty-two years back my dad was given 6 to 8 months to live after cancer struck him without a warning. My younger brothers were just 3 and five years of age and it was unfair that they should be deprived of their father’s affection so early in life. In my naivety I prayed hard that I would willingly suffer and die on his behalf if only God granted him a lease of life. I was about fourteen years old and we were doing Moghul History. The story of emperor Babur who prayed for his son Humayun’s recovery and how he fell ill and died while Humayun recovered, seemed so impressive!. I studied in a Christian Missinary school and had a kind of bargaining session with God. I offered to convert to Christianity if only he allowed me to die in my father’s place. I made a quick mental calculation that since I would die in any case, it would hardly matter whether I converted or remained a Hindu. I only hoped that my mother would understand my reasons for doing so. But nothing happened. My father died in about 8 months and my maternal grandfather who was a practicing lawyer took over and life went on. Today I realize that life is not that simple and we all have a role to fulfill. Conversion too involves one’s head and heart and is not a business deal.
Since then I seem to make a special note of more such cases. M…. the Accounts Assistant in our college was not only an expert in her work but a caring mother too. I met on a Diwali day and she told me that she had sent her daughter to her mother’s place for the day. There was nothing unusual about a child spending a day at her grand mom’s place. What was unusual was the fact that the girl had been left there on her own for the first time. Little did M... know that the girl was to be totally left in the care of her grandmothers very soon? The day after I met her, M… fell sick, medical tests, hospitalization and emergency surgery followed and finally in less than 3 months she left us forever. The same was the fate of V…. who was in the Examination Department. Both of them were troubled with occasional gastric problems and would joke about starting a new Graduate School in heaven. Both of them left behind girls in their pre teens that were looked after by their relatives while the surviving parent was busy with office work.
And there was Dr. M.... who was an asset to our college. She was a born fighter. Her husband’s business wasn’t doing well and her children needed help in their studies. She did not want to unnecessarily spend for tuitions. She therefore would first come to us with doubts in Science subjects. (She was in the English Department) She would understand the concepts herself and then teach her children. She got a grant from UGC to carryout postdoctoral research in tribal languages and was doing a great job of it. She suddenly lost her voice and we thought it was a throat infection. We were amused at the way she’d write out whatever she wanted to say and even joked that it would be better if we all spoke less and worked more. She recovered her voice but the diagnosis was not good. Hers was a rare condition of an atypical cancer growth in the lungs where the line of treatment was more speculative than direct. I, for one, felt that it was unfair that a person of her caliber should be allowed to pass on. Time and tide wait for none. On the very day that tsunami struck Mimi joined the victims of tsunami in their final journey while her family dealt with a tsunami of its own.
Such examples leave me frustrated. I have a paternal aunt who is ninety-four years old. She has lost three of her four sons and last year she lost her only surviving brother too. She found her own way to deal with her grief. She has chosen to live on her own and says that keeping herself busy is important to her. I know better. She wants to be left alone to grieve in private.
Strange are the ways of God. When he takes away a parent he takes it on Himself to ensure the family’s well being. He does send someone to care for the children and often such children show a maturity and responsibility not found among their more fortunate counterparts. Very often, such people who are called back are assets to society and their family and the question oft asked is “What next?” However important the person may have been, life goes on with or without him/her. Is there perhaps some element of truth in the sentence I often hear when people refer to my father- that his blessings have accomplished that which he could not have done himself?
M… would have been proud of her daughter who has accomplished a lot as a golf player and has won a scholarship and has left for the USA where she pursues her studies. The same is true of M… the accounts assistant’s daughter. By some co-incidence I happened to read a poem relevant to this post. The jist of the poem was that the leaf that falls first laments the fact and asks why it should be the first to fall when all other leaves were merrily swaying and having fun. The leaf that was still stuck to the branch, while all its “branch brothers” had fallen, asks why it should be the last to go? Neither state is desirable but there is little one can do about it.
Thursday, February 01, 2007
Enjoy this
Some Rules that NEWTON forgot to mention
law of queue: If you change queues, the one you have left will start
to move faster than the one you are in now.
Law of the Telephone: When you dial a wrong number, you never get
an engaged tone.
Law of Mechanical Repair: After your hands become coated with
grease,yournose will begin to itch.
Law of the Workshop: Any tool, when dropped, will roll to the
least accessible corner.
Law of the Alibi: If you tell the boss you were late for work because
yu had a flat tire, the next morning you will have a flat tire.
Bath THEOREM: When the body is immersed in water, the telephone rings.
LAW OF ENCOUNTERS: The probability of meeting someone you know
increases when you are with someone you don't want to be seen with.
LAW of the RESULT: When you try to prove to someone that a machine
won't work, it will!
LAW OF BIOMECHANICS: The severity of the itch is inversely
proportional to the reach.
THEATRE RULE: People with the seats at the furthest from the aisle
arrive last.
LAW OF COFFEE: As soon as you sit down for a cup of hot coffee, your
boss will ask you to do something which will last until the coffee is cold.
_________________________________________________________________
law of queue: If you change queues, the one you have left will start
to move faster than the one you are in now.
Law of the Telephone: When you dial a wrong number, you never get
an engaged tone.
Law of Mechanical Repair: After your hands become coated with
grease,yournose will begin to itch.
Law of the Workshop: Any tool, when dropped, will roll to the
least accessible corner.
Law of the Alibi: If you tell the boss you were late for work because
yu had a flat tire, the next morning you will have a flat tire.
Bath THEOREM: When the body is immersed in water, the telephone rings.
LAW OF ENCOUNTERS: The probability of meeting someone you know
increases when you are with someone you don't want to be seen with.
LAW of the RESULT: When you try to prove to someone that a machine
won't work, it will!
LAW OF BIOMECHANICS: The severity of the itch is inversely
proportional to the reach.
THEATRE RULE: People with the seats at the furthest from the aisle
arrive last.
LAW OF COFFEE: As soon as you sit down for a cup of hot coffee, your
boss will ask you to do something which will last until the coffee is cold.
_________________________________________________________________
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