Sometime back I read an article in 'Prabhat Khabar' discussing the pathetic condition of colleges and universities in Jharkhand/Bihar. The topic was in fact covered in a series of 5 to 6 articles and were authored by a professor from IIT, Madras.He, who had been a product of schools and colleges in Bihar knew what he was talking about. He laments that the colleges in the region are just shadows of what they were when he was a student. He is ofcourse right.The college that my husband studied was one of the best in the state and students who were his batch mates have made it to prestigious universities abroad in times when parents hardly aspired to send their children abroad and most were happy to see them graduate in local colleges and take up jobs in and around the town where they were raised.
Truth is bitter and I found it difficult to swallow it. After all I am being paid by the tax payer's money and hope to draw a decent pension on retirement. But I needed to do some introspection and acknowledge how far and how much was I responsible for the situation and defend myself if possible. It really didn't require a professor from far off Chennai to tell us to our face that the functioning of colleges in our part of India is bad. It may be worse elsewhere but I am not accountable for all colleges and universities. I just want to find out through my analysis if there is still some hope and scope for our system to improve.
Anyone can come to our college at around 2.30 PM in the afternoon and find the campus deserted except for a handful of students who are either waiting for their company buses to ferry them back home or attending practical classes. The time table indicates that the college functions till 4.00 PM. Where have all the students gone one may wonder. They are either busy attending tuition classes/coaching classes or buying little trinklets at the local market a stone's throw away from the college. Teachers have to remain in college till 4 in the evening since they are being paid. Students pay a pittance as college fee. Their parents pay at least 10 times more as tuition fees in tutorials and coaching centres and one does not have to be a genius to understand where their priorities lie. Our Principal tried locking the gate one day. The press came, student union leaders came, there were frantic phone calls being made to the Principal. The students shouted slogans from within and the brothers joined them from outside. On the very day 2 programmes to celebrate the Science Month were going on and the students wanted to be let out rather than sit through these lectures. Not a single parent seemed to have questioned his/her ward. The general feeling is that classes are never held as per schedule in the college. How can classes be held in the absence of students? If anyone has an answer please let me know. Gates were finally opened and haven't been locked since then. No student union leader comes to advise his fellow students to attend classes regularly or to arrange for tuitions after college hours.
Was this always so?? No, it wasn't. When I first joined college we had students who came from their theory class discussing the topic taken up. They'd account for the number of ATP molecules formed in the course of a cycle of reactions in biochemistry or the bonding of atoms in a particular molecule and I'd have to ask them to stop their discussion and get on with their practical work. We still remember our old students. Arunima for the diagrams she made and Manisha for her perseverance and so many others who may not have been bright sparks but were keen to learn and made a sincere effort towards aquiring knowledge. This is what I find missing in my current batch of students. I had mentioned about a batch of students in an earlier post. In my department they were perhaps the last batch of dedicated students. Students wanting to study basic science have decreased in number. Another women's college in town offers Biotechnology and Environmemt and Water management as Honours courses. Students seem to find those courses more appealing. But a post graduate in Water management may be good for the industry but may not necessarily be a good Biology teacher in school. And not all of them are absorbed in industries. Some do take up teaching not having anything else to do. As a result the very foundation may be wobbly and it is these students that come to college and are unable to cope with the speed at which education is imparted in college. With coaching classes mushrooming all over town they prefer to go there rather than stay on in college. The college is reduced to a mere examination centre. They do not realize that tuitions can supplement or compliment class room coaching. They can never replace the teacher who draws figures on the board or explains the portion in detail.
It is the future of our children I worry about. The process of imparting and aquiring knowledge should be enjoyed to the core. Parental ambition sees to it that children handle the computer even before they learn to talk. Is it any wonder that we have robots instead of children and the curiosity of an entire generation is being stifled? A reputed preparatory/play school in town holds entrance tests for two year old kids and parents keep their fingers crossed for their ward's admission. It is a kind of prestige issue to have your child coached in the school.
I happened to visit the school attended by my grand daughter in Maryland, USA. The school charges no fees or may be a nominal amount. Parents don't go hunting for the most expensive scools. In fact the school authorized by your county is the only one you can send your child to. Children have an hour or two of systematic learning to do followed by an hour of any activity of the child's choice. The child can draw or paint, read a book or organise cutlery and crockery on a dining table. The child learns a lot when she/he is left to choose an activity of her/his interest. I also saw volunteers reading out stories to children in a local library and this was perhaps to help weak students and others who don't speak English at home to pick up language and grammar. In another day care I saw flower pots with children's name on it. Three year olds are encouraged to sow seeds and watch a seedling develop into a full grown plant. What a relaxing way to learn things. I really felt that our children were missing out on their childhood for no fault of theirs.
I may seem to have gone off the topic. No, not at all. I am coming to the point I wish to make. If one inculcated a love for learning in children and allowed them to do it at their own pace they may not peak before their time and will join college with their quest for knowledge in tact. As of now, we have a group that is so ambitious that they want short cuts to success and another group who are so weak that they lack even the will to try. The middle group to which most of us belong is perhaps missing. As a result no one wants to put their hearts into what they learn unless it translates into a five digit salary right from day one.
Sorry to sound pessimistic. But it is the future of India that is at stake. I've discussed only one aspect that bothers me. There are more angles that need to be explored and debated. I should consider the student's point of view and also accomodate the plight of parents who want the best for their wards. Somewhere in between the two, the role of politicians who want the masses to remain ignorant also needs to be included.
Thursday, August 20, 2009
Sunday, August 09, 2009
Happy Janmashtami.
Janmashtami is approaching and the time for churning out Gokulashtami delicacies is here. We Tamilians treat Baby Krishna to sweets and savories - yummy crispies like murukku, cheedai both the sweet and salty variety and anything that one felt like offering him - the explanation being that since Gokulashtami denoted his birth he could be given things that children relish. Not that older people like me don't relish them but these are supposed to be children's favorites and we could have a bite if we felt like it. Now my good friend Meera found this very funny.
"The Lord is an infant and should be offered milk, curd and a generous amount of butter. He has no teeth so how will he eat all these deep fired hard stuff?" she'd ask.
Not to be outsmarted I'd ask her if a new born could be treated to butter and curd and the question would remain unresolved.
I always feel that festivals in India are unique. It is during these festivals that good, wholesome home made delicacies were served. Sweets were exchanged and ladies socialized with others in the neighborhood. Whether it is Ramnavami, Navaratri, Deepavali or Sankaranthi all Hindus mark out the day and special items are carefully prepared and distributed after having been duly offered to God. Id-ul-fitr and the sewai one gets to eat from our Muslim friends or the cakes distributed during X'mas, Easter and New Year were also looked forward to with equal zest. I notice that I keep going into the past tense while I type out this piece. And why not? Making sweets at home has now become an onerous task and it seems easier to order them from the nearest sweet - mart. I won't be surprised if I tell my grandchildren some 5 years from now that when their parents were children I actually made sweets at home.
No, I am not blaming anyone. It is just that times have changed. Joint families have become a thing of the past and with both husband and wife working no one has the time. Moreover with machines taking over, even simple tasks like washing one's own clothes or pounding a little 'masala' seem impossible. When the body does not exercise it starts rejecting food that it cannot process and one starts gaining weight - me included. Believe me I've hand washed clothes as long as the children were in Jamshedpur and used the manual wet grinder till I was nearly 50 years of age. I'd return from college around 2 in the afternoon and soak a bucketful of clothes. I'd wash them at 4 in the evening and let the water drip while I went to fetch milk and when others picked up clothes that had dried I'd spread out clothes for drying.
"it is not good to dry out clothes when birds return to their nests. It is just not done at odd hours."- someone or the other would point out.
I had no choice. If I washed clothes in the morning I'd be late for work and/or my husband and children would have gone hungry. Ask me to do it now and I may get panic attacks. BTW my washing machine is out of order and I am deliberately not getting it fixed so that I may wash my own clothes if not that of the entire family. I may give in when winter sets in but this little task gives me immense pleasure. Clothes seem to be cleaner and my walking speed has indeed increased. When I really lose some 5 kgs of weight I'll let you know!!
We seem to have been better off without the TV. Ignorance was bliss indeed. We have News channels reporting the use of synthetic milk to prepare sweets and this in turn is made up of urea and detergent. Synthetic paneer and Khoya (Paal gova for Tamilians) with carcinogenic additives are being sold or so they say. I'd really like to know if News channels are exaggerating information to improve their TRP or if it is indeed so. Last week I had invited a friend's family for dinner and my husband made me prepare some mysore pak at home citing all kinds of examples of adulteration sending shivers down my spine. My friend was bringing her son and 77 year old mother along and I just could not take the risk.
Coming to adulteration, my husband had gone to grind some Sambhar powder and he saw a man grinding some 50 kgs of turmeric. The man added atleast 20 kgs of cheap quality rice and 10 small bottles of some chemical that gave the turmeric powder a rich yellow color. He was shocked but there was more to come. The same man ground a very poor quality of throw away red chillies and again added a chemical that gave it a bright red color. The laborer who did the grinding confided to my husband that this was a regular practise but could not tell him what chemical was being added and whether it was safe for human consumption. He paid the man extra money to clean up the machine before putting our stuff into it. I wonder if all the branded masalas in attractive colours are prepared this way. Luckily or unluckily my husband does not like the packaged masala availble in the market and we prepare our own. I would not know if pepper corns and papaya seeds were mixed but at least I see to it that no chemicals are added to our masala. Nowadays he packs masala and gives it among friends for a nominal price and even without any advertisement I notice that the masalas are in great demand even though some products are a little costlier because he does not buy at wholesale rates and is therefore not cost efficient.
I seem to be drifting from one topic to another. But I do feel like talking about all such problems that are hazardous to the physical and mental health of society. The front page of any newspaper contains all kinds of negative reports. Swine flu seems to be spreading in most places. I hope each one of you and all your friends and relatives are taking utmost precaution. Those with little children should be extra careful not to take them to crowded places.
I can go on and on. But let me sign off with a story.
A woman went to the doctor and said that she wanted to reduce her weight. The doctor asked her to go for brisk walks in the morning and she refused saying that she had arthritis and could not take the risk. More over she was prone to cold and cough and the chill morning weather would aggravate the problem.
He asked her to exercise at home using the tread mill or stepper. She refused saying that her enlarged heart which would pop out if she over strained it.
He asked her to do aerobics at home. She vetoed the idea saying that the marble floor in her bedroom may cause her to slip and fall.
In a similar vein she rejected every suggestion made by the doctor. She could not survive on a high protein diet since she had gas problem, boiled vegetables were out because she hated bland food etc. etc.....
Finally after exhausting every possible solution the doctor said-
"Sit on a comfortable sofa right in front of the TV, take a remote in your hand, surf channels and watch TV all day."
She said -
"That is exactly what I do and my weight keeps increasing."
Happy Janmashtami to all of you!!
"The Lord is an infant and should be offered milk, curd and a generous amount of butter. He has no teeth so how will he eat all these deep fired hard stuff?" she'd ask.
Not to be outsmarted I'd ask her if a new born could be treated to butter and curd and the question would remain unresolved.
I always feel that festivals in India are unique. It is during these festivals that good, wholesome home made delicacies were served. Sweets were exchanged and ladies socialized with others in the neighborhood. Whether it is Ramnavami, Navaratri, Deepavali or Sankaranthi all Hindus mark out the day and special items are carefully prepared and distributed after having been duly offered to God. Id-ul-fitr and the sewai one gets to eat from our Muslim friends or the cakes distributed during X'mas, Easter and New Year were also looked forward to with equal zest. I notice that I keep going into the past tense while I type out this piece. And why not? Making sweets at home has now become an onerous task and it seems easier to order them from the nearest sweet - mart. I won't be surprised if I tell my grandchildren some 5 years from now that when their parents were children I actually made sweets at home.
No, I am not blaming anyone. It is just that times have changed. Joint families have become a thing of the past and with both husband and wife working no one has the time. Moreover with machines taking over, even simple tasks like washing one's own clothes or pounding a little 'masala' seem impossible. When the body does not exercise it starts rejecting food that it cannot process and one starts gaining weight - me included. Believe me I've hand washed clothes as long as the children were in Jamshedpur and used the manual wet grinder till I was nearly 50 years of age. I'd return from college around 2 in the afternoon and soak a bucketful of clothes. I'd wash them at 4 in the evening and let the water drip while I went to fetch milk and when others picked up clothes that had dried I'd spread out clothes for drying.
"it is not good to dry out clothes when birds return to their nests. It is just not done at odd hours."- someone or the other would point out.
I had no choice. If I washed clothes in the morning I'd be late for work and/or my husband and children would have gone hungry. Ask me to do it now and I may get panic attacks. BTW my washing machine is out of order and I am deliberately not getting it fixed so that I may wash my own clothes if not that of the entire family. I may give in when winter sets in but this little task gives me immense pleasure. Clothes seem to be cleaner and my walking speed has indeed increased. When I really lose some 5 kgs of weight I'll let you know!!
We seem to have been better off without the TV. Ignorance was bliss indeed. We have News channels reporting the use of synthetic milk to prepare sweets and this in turn is made up of urea and detergent. Synthetic paneer and Khoya (Paal gova for Tamilians) with carcinogenic additives are being sold or so they say. I'd really like to know if News channels are exaggerating information to improve their TRP or if it is indeed so. Last week I had invited a friend's family for dinner and my husband made me prepare some mysore pak at home citing all kinds of examples of adulteration sending shivers down my spine. My friend was bringing her son and 77 year old mother along and I just could not take the risk.
Coming to adulteration, my husband had gone to grind some Sambhar powder and he saw a man grinding some 50 kgs of turmeric. The man added atleast 20 kgs of cheap quality rice and 10 small bottles of some chemical that gave the turmeric powder a rich yellow color. He was shocked but there was more to come. The same man ground a very poor quality of throw away red chillies and again added a chemical that gave it a bright red color. The laborer who did the grinding confided to my husband that this was a regular practise but could not tell him what chemical was being added and whether it was safe for human consumption. He paid the man extra money to clean up the machine before putting our stuff into it. I wonder if all the branded masalas in attractive colours are prepared this way. Luckily or unluckily my husband does not like the packaged masala availble in the market and we prepare our own. I would not know if pepper corns and papaya seeds were mixed but at least I see to it that no chemicals are added to our masala. Nowadays he packs masala and gives it among friends for a nominal price and even without any advertisement I notice that the masalas are in great demand even though some products are a little costlier because he does not buy at wholesale rates and is therefore not cost efficient.
I seem to be drifting from one topic to another. But I do feel like talking about all such problems that are hazardous to the physical and mental health of society. The front page of any newspaper contains all kinds of negative reports. Swine flu seems to be spreading in most places. I hope each one of you and all your friends and relatives are taking utmost precaution. Those with little children should be extra careful not to take them to crowded places.
I can go on and on. But let me sign off with a story.
A woman went to the doctor and said that she wanted to reduce her weight. The doctor asked her to go for brisk walks in the morning and she refused saying that she had arthritis and could not take the risk. More over she was prone to cold and cough and the chill morning weather would aggravate the problem.
He asked her to exercise at home using the tread mill or stepper. She refused saying that her enlarged heart which would pop out if she over strained it.
He asked her to do aerobics at home. She vetoed the idea saying that the marble floor in her bedroom may cause her to slip and fall.
In a similar vein she rejected every suggestion made by the doctor. She could not survive on a high protein diet since she had gas problem, boiled vegetables were out because she hated bland food etc. etc.....
Finally after exhausting every possible solution the doctor said-
"Sit on a comfortable sofa right in front of the TV, take a remote in your hand, surf channels and watch TV all day."
She said -
"That is exactly what I do and my weight keeps increasing."
Happy Janmashtami to all of you!!
Saturday, August 01, 2009
36 years of togetherness.
I've just completed 36 years of marriage and we are a unique couple who were born on Indian Independance and Republic days respectively and tied the knot on July 4th that happens to be United States of America's Independance day. I am sure both of us were freedom fighters in our previous births or perhaps scheming politicians who were sent again to lead simple lives - far from the madding crowd - one may say. I am indeed surprised how naive (read stupid) both of us could be and I think it is this quality that holds us together. I am planning to share some of the major goof ups we were involved in and leave it to you readers to tell me whether as a 'Ram milaye Jodi' we are entitled to celebrate our years of togetherness.
Three weeks back my husband brought home some toovar dal for half the market price from a roadside vendor who sold his stuff on Sunday mornings. The dal cooked really well and the flavor was also very good. We got worried if it was smuggled stuff or what. How else could a person be able to sell good quality dal for such a throw away price. I promptly asked him to get 2kgs. of dal each for two of my colleagues who were supporting large families. He gladly obliged. My colleagues were thankful for my concern and reported that the dal was indeed very good. The following week I decided my ex and current maid servants should benefit by the reduced price and my husband heartily agreed with me. He went in the scorching sun and although the man had increased the price by Rs. 5/- and he had sold most of it, my husband bought whatever he had and came home with 4.5 kgs. of dal. This time however the dal was not of very good quality with small insects creeping out. The two of us sat and cleaned it up - each one duly blaming the other and finally decided that it could not be given to anyone including my servants. I suggested that we roast it lightly to prevent it from being fully eaten up by the insects and we are now stuck with a container full of dal in addition to the amount we bought the previous week and the normal quota purchased from the market. We may have to consume it for the next 4-5 months. However I did give my servant 1 kg of the dal (good quality) purchased the previous week. She was the one who enlightened me on why the price quoted was so low.
"Didi, this is not toovar dal at all. This is called 'kussi' dal and is consumed by tribals in and around Chota Nagpur plateau. It is not very popular among people from the city. It tastes like toovar dal but is available at very cheap rates in the village side."
We felt like fools but were relieved that it was not smuggled or black market stuff. For all you know the person who sold it may not be seen again and we may end up being questioned. I request all of you to pass on recipes that involve the inclusion of a sizeable proportion of dal in it - ofcourse 'adai and vadai' excluded.
We went for the foundation day celebration at a local Sai Baba temple. My husband is a Sai devotee and I am a devotee of a lesser degree. We donated generously and bought two tickets for 'Bhog'. Later one of the volunteers who recognizes us said that we could eat bhog there for free and take back bhog for others at home in packed containers for which tickets were needed. Since there was no one at home we decided that we could use 1 ticket and give away the other one to someone else. I suggested that the ticket be returned to the volunteer who would in turn give it to someone in need. From a distance I saw my husband return the ticket and take out some money that he gave to the volunteer. 'He should know what he is doing' I thought and said nothing. The next day he asks me why I asked him to return the ticket and pay him money for a bhog coupon already paid for. I was apalled. I had said nothing of the sort. In fact I had told him not to take a refund for the coupon and in the din he thought that I had asked him to pay for it. You can imagine the 'tu,tu - main, main' that followed. It would have been better to have brought back more bhog and distributed it among our neighbors. The volunteer must have thought that we stupidly naive or naively stupid to return a coupon and also pay for it.
Looking back I realize that we are two of a kind but like the 'man in black' depicted by Goldsmith we like to pose as people who cannot be taken for a ride. But let me tell you we can be taken for a ride not in a bullock cart but in Rajdhani express. I realized how gullible we appeared to be when my ex servants daughter in law rang up from Chennai and asked me to lend her Rs. 50,000/- for the purchase of a flat (part of booking money). I really believed that her MIL would have no knowledge of her phone call when my ex servant surprised me by saying that the DIL had asked her to approach me but she was the one who suggested that since the amount involved was heavy, she should approach me herself. I made it clear that I was no Tata or Birla and being a bank employee she'd get a home loan for nominal interest. Within 2 months the son rings up for 1 lakh this time. I had to tell his mother to ask them not to pester me or else the 2 or 5 thousand I had planned to give them when their daughter joined college would also be withdrawn. The phone calls have stopped since and I hate myself for having had to say so.
There are many more such instances but I stop right here lest I sound repetitive. We are usually prudent spenders or so we like to believe but whatever we save is only to be squandered for nothing. I for one feel that I may as well spend the money with careless abandon. But how? I love Ice creams but I have blood sugar and tend to put on weight. My closet is full of clothes that I can carry over for for years to come. Medicines are all I need and I cannot over eat them. So I suppose I can continue to goof up with the full support of my husband and feel happy about it. I really wish I were naive enough not to recognize an act that could be called goofy!
Tell me now whether the following song could apply to us and even if we are a compatible couple for wrong reasons, should we not celebrate our 36 years of togetherness??
'Once a cock eye met a squint eye under the coconut tree.
Said the cock eye to the squint eye - will you marry me?'
Three weeks back my husband brought home some toovar dal for half the market price from a roadside vendor who sold his stuff on Sunday mornings. The dal cooked really well and the flavor was also very good. We got worried if it was smuggled stuff or what. How else could a person be able to sell good quality dal for such a throw away price. I promptly asked him to get 2kgs. of dal each for two of my colleagues who were supporting large families. He gladly obliged. My colleagues were thankful for my concern and reported that the dal was indeed very good. The following week I decided my ex and current maid servants should benefit by the reduced price and my husband heartily agreed with me. He went in the scorching sun and although the man had increased the price by Rs. 5/- and he had sold most of it, my husband bought whatever he had and came home with 4.5 kgs. of dal. This time however the dal was not of very good quality with small insects creeping out. The two of us sat and cleaned it up - each one duly blaming the other and finally decided that it could not be given to anyone including my servants. I suggested that we roast it lightly to prevent it from being fully eaten up by the insects and we are now stuck with a container full of dal in addition to the amount we bought the previous week and the normal quota purchased from the market. We may have to consume it for the next 4-5 months. However I did give my servant 1 kg of the dal (good quality) purchased the previous week. She was the one who enlightened me on why the price quoted was so low.
"Didi, this is not toovar dal at all. This is called 'kussi' dal and is consumed by tribals in and around Chota Nagpur plateau. It is not very popular among people from the city. It tastes like toovar dal but is available at very cheap rates in the village side."
We felt like fools but were relieved that it was not smuggled or black market stuff. For all you know the person who sold it may not be seen again and we may end up being questioned. I request all of you to pass on recipes that involve the inclusion of a sizeable proportion of dal in it - ofcourse 'adai and vadai' excluded.
We went for the foundation day celebration at a local Sai Baba temple. My husband is a Sai devotee and I am a devotee of a lesser degree. We donated generously and bought two tickets for 'Bhog'. Later one of the volunteers who recognizes us said that we could eat bhog there for free and take back bhog for others at home in packed containers for which tickets were needed. Since there was no one at home we decided that we could use 1 ticket and give away the other one to someone else. I suggested that the ticket be returned to the volunteer who would in turn give it to someone in need. From a distance I saw my husband return the ticket and take out some money that he gave to the volunteer. 'He should know what he is doing' I thought and said nothing. The next day he asks me why I asked him to return the ticket and pay him money for a bhog coupon already paid for. I was apalled. I had said nothing of the sort. In fact I had told him not to take a refund for the coupon and in the din he thought that I had asked him to pay for it. You can imagine the 'tu,tu - main, main' that followed. It would have been better to have brought back more bhog and distributed it among our neighbors. The volunteer must have thought that we stupidly naive or naively stupid to return a coupon and also pay for it.
Looking back I realize that we are two of a kind but like the 'man in black' depicted by Goldsmith we like to pose as people who cannot be taken for a ride. But let me tell you we can be taken for a ride not in a bullock cart but in Rajdhani express. I realized how gullible we appeared to be when my ex servants daughter in law rang up from Chennai and asked me to lend her Rs. 50,000/- for the purchase of a flat (part of booking money). I really believed that her MIL would have no knowledge of her phone call when my ex servant surprised me by saying that the DIL had asked her to approach me but she was the one who suggested that since the amount involved was heavy, she should approach me herself. I made it clear that I was no Tata or Birla and being a bank employee she'd get a home loan for nominal interest. Within 2 months the son rings up for 1 lakh this time. I had to tell his mother to ask them not to pester me or else the 2 or 5 thousand I had planned to give them when their daughter joined college would also be withdrawn. The phone calls have stopped since and I hate myself for having had to say so.
There are many more such instances but I stop right here lest I sound repetitive. We are usually prudent spenders or so we like to believe but whatever we save is only to be squandered for nothing. I for one feel that I may as well spend the money with careless abandon. But how? I love Ice creams but I have blood sugar and tend to put on weight. My closet is full of clothes that I can carry over for for years to come. Medicines are all I need and I cannot over eat them. So I suppose I can continue to goof up with the full support of my husband and feel happy about it. I really wish I were naive enough not to recognize an act that could be called goofy!
Tell me now whether the following song could apply to us and even if we are a compatible couple for wrong reasons, should we not celebrate our 36 years of togetherness??
'Once a cock eye met a squint eye under the coconut tree.
Said the cock eye to the squint eye - will you marry me?'
Saturday, July 25, 2009
Down the memory lane.
I had posted something on Perverted Minds and deleted it within a day or two. The reason was that I had unknowingly written about a person who is no more and when I realized it I felt bad considering that a dead person deserves no censure and one should let such souls rest in peace whatever be our differences when alive. Another reason is that I don't feel comfortable dealing with topics that harp on the bad side of human nature. There is so much of goodness all around us so why not encourage people with their stories? There are people who suffer in silence and never say a word against anyone. I feel dwarfed when I come in contact with them. I really do. There are others who are at the receiving end of life's blows and yet have a kind word for those around them and spread cheer wherever they go. Why worry about those who according to Dr. Jill Taylor have a bloated up left brain? They are not going to change anyway.
Having said this let me tell you about an aquaintance of mine. I wouldn't be able to give you his name because I don't know it myself. I know him as Telgu Tailor and my friends also know him as such. My first contact with him dates back to the time when I returned with my first born to Jamshedpur. My sister in law had asked him to make a few frocks for my daughter and we both went to collect them. Mild mannered and courteous he made us sit down, his wife offered us a glass of water. When we asked him what his charges were he smiled and said that it was his gift to the new arrival and did not want money. When we insisted on paying him he accepted a token amount of Rs. 2/-. His son was employed in TISCO and he stitched clothes just to keep himself occupied. He really did not need the money he insisted. Our years of association had just begun.
For the next three years he made dresses for my daughters and blouses for us at nominal cost and finally left for Rourkela where his son had landed a better job. We missed him a lot since no tailor could give us the fitting that he gave for our blouses. Within a year he returned with his wife, two daughters and a younger son. It was the usual story of the arrival of a daughter in law and his wife not getting on well with her etc. etc. To be fair to them I must say that the tailor and his wife being a tight lipped couple did not malign the son or DIL. Neighbors came to know of it through the innocent disclosure of the younger son and daughter who were in school. The older daughter was now married. The tailor started taking orders again and we were delighted. He was rather apologetic that he had to charge nearly as per the prevailing market rate. The family lived in the outhouse of TISCO's officer's quarters. I managed to get him quite a few orders from college since his house was on my way and it was easy to give and collect material from him. I'd bring him design books and he'd make beautiful dresses for my daughters. As a rule I never bought ready made dresses for them. Things seemed to be heading in the right direction when disaster struck. His daughter came back to Jamshedpur after the birth of a daughter unable to put up with torture at the hands of her husband and in laws. She had an older son but he was held back in Kharagpur - his mind duly poisoned against the mother.
Life went on with the daughter also taking to sewing clothes. The tailor was his usual composed self but his wife was heart broken and took ill. In the meantime the younger son and daughter continued to study. The daughter often travelled with me to college by share auto and the son came to our block to play with a neighbor's son. The younger daughter got a government job and the family shifted to another part of the town where she was allotted staff quarters and we lost touch once more. In the meanwhile the older daughter was widowed and for the first time I saw the tailor visibly disturbed. She was however offered a job on compassionate grounds and left for Kharagpur.
Years later I met him on my way to college. For the first time I saw him smile. His younger son was now a chartered accountant. The younger daughter had married a colleague of her's and was leading a happily married life. His wife's health was a cause for concern but they now lived in a 3 bedroom flat and had hired a servant to attend to her needs. I asked him if he'd take orders for blouses again because we still coud not find anyone as good as him. He politely refused saying that his son had forbidden him to sit by his sewing machine and wanted him to lead a peaceful retired life. Fair enough I felt and was genuinely happy for him. I wish I could end my narration right here. Unfortunately my story does not have a happy ending.
It was the morning of Republic Day and our tailor went out to fetch milk as usual. On his return he saw a few people standing by his son's car. He peeped in and saw his son lying dead within. He just could not believe what he saw. This could not happen to him he felt. But it had happened and he was at a loss for words. So were we when on hearing of the tragedy we rushed to his place. The boy had been in love with the daughter of the bungalow owner from the days that the family lived in the outhouse and the girl had reciprocated. But her family still considered him as being from a lower class despite the fact that his older brother was well employed and he was himself a chartered accountant. The girl's mother had insulted him with reference to his impoverished past and ignored her daughter's pleas. He had asked his brother to intervene on his behalf and the brother had also arrived from Rourkela with his wife for the purpose. They were to approach the girl's family on the evening of Republic day but the girl's mother hurriedly got her engaged to a boy of her choice on the previous day and told him that there was no need to ask his brother to come over since her daughter was already engaged. No one knew when he left the house and locked himself in his car and committed suicide. A suicide note addressed to his girl friend said it all. There was another note to the SP of Jamshedpur requesting him not to harass the girl or his parents since it was not their fault.
We were speechless. No words could console the bereaved family. Soon after the son's death the mother followed. I thought that our Telgu Tailor would perhaps shift to Rourkela or Kharagpur. A few months later I met him again on my way to a friend's place. He had vacated the house rented by his son and was living all by himself in an one room kitchen unit for a nominal rent. I suggested that he should start stitching again to keep himsel occupied. He smiled and I then realized that one could express not only joy but also sorrow through a smile.
"I stiched clothes to support my family. To give good education to my children. Too many memories were associated with my sewing machine. I cannot bear to go near it." he said.
"Why don't you go to your children?" I asked. "I am sure your elder daughter would be more than happy to support you after all that you've done for her."
"I cannot bear to leave the place where my son grew up." he said "After all, I have only his memories to live by. When I am unable to manage I will have to leave but right now I prefer to stay here."
"Please don't hesitate to let me know if you need help." My words sounded hollow even to my own ears. After all how does one help a person who lives but has no life?
Just out of curiosity I asked "What happened to the girl who caused all this misery?"
"What could she do about my fate? I was destined to lose my son anyway. I only hope that she is happy wherever she is. My son's soul would be pained if she weren't."
I was speechless once more. I was standing in front of magnanimity personified.
Having said this let me tell you about an aquaintance of mine. I wouldn't be able to give you his name because I don't know it myself. I know him as Telgu Tailor and my friends also know him as such. My first contact with him dates back to the time when I returned with my first born to Jamshedpur. My sister in law had asked him to make a few frocks for my daughter and we both went to collect them. Mild mannered and courteous he made us sit down, his wife offered us a glass of water. When we asked him what his charges were he smiled and said that it was his gift to the new arrival and did not want money. When we insisted on paying him he accepted a token amount of Rs. 2/-. His son was employed in TISCO and he stitched clothes just to keep himself occupied. He really did not need the money he insisted. Our years of association had just begun.
For the next three years he made dresses for my daughters and blouses for us at nominal cost and finally left for Rourkela where his son had landed a better job. We missed him a lot since no tailor could give us the fitting that he gave for our blouses. Within a year he returned with his wife, two daughters and a younger son. It was the usual story of the arrival of a daughter in law and his wife not getting on well with her etc. etc. To be fair to them I must say that the tailor and his wife being a tight lipped couple did not malign the son or DIL. Neighbors came to know of it through the innocent disclosure of the younger son and daughter who were in school. The older daughter was now married. The tailor started taking orders again and we were delighted. He was rather apologetic that he had to charge nearly as per the prevailing market rate. The family lived in the outhouse of TISCO's officer's quarters. I managed to get him quite a few orders from college since his house was on my way and it was easy to give and collect material from him. I'd bring him design books and he'd make beautiful dresses for my daughters. As a rule I never bought ready made dresses for them. Things seemed to be heading in the right direction when disaster struck. His daughter came back to Jamshedpur after the birth of a daughter unable to put up with torture at the hands of her husband and in laws. She had an older son but he was held back in Kharagpur - his mind duly poisoned against the mother.
Life went on with the daughter also taking to sewing clothes. The tailor was his usual composed self but his wife was heart broken and took ill. In the meantime the younger son and daughter continued to study. The daughter often travelled with me to college by share auto and the son came to our block to play with a neighbor's son. The younger daughter got a government job and the family shifted to another part of the town where she was allotted staff quarters and we lost touch once more. In the meanwhile the older daughter was widowed and for the first time I saw the tailor visibly disturbed. She was however offered a job on compassionate grounds and left for Kharagpur.
Years later I met him on my way to college. For the first time I saw him smile. His younger son was now a chartered accountant. The younger daughter had married a colleague of her's and was leading a happily married life. His wife's health was a cause for concern but they now lived in a 3 bedroom flat and had hired a servant to attend to her needs. I asked him if he'd take orders for blouses again because we still coud not find anyone as good as him. He politely refused saying that his son had forbidden him to sit by his sewing machine and wanted him to lead a peaceful retired life. Fair enough I felt and was genuinely happy for him. I wish I could end my narration right here. Unfortunately my story does not have a happy ending.
It was the morning of Republic Day and our tailor went out to fetch milk as usual. On his return he saw a few people standing by his son's car. He peeped in and saw his son lying dead within. He just could not believe what he saw. This could not happen to him he felt. But it had happened and he was at a loss for words. So were we when on hearing of the tragedy we rushed to his place. The boy had been in love with the daughter of the bungalow owner from the days that the family lived in the outhouse and the girl had reciprocated. But her family still considered him as being from a lower class despite the fact that his older brother was well employed and he was himself a chartered accountant. The girl's mother had insulted him with reference to his impoverished past and ignored her daughter's pleas. He had asked his brother to intervene on his behalf and the brother had also arrived from Rourkela with his wife for the purpose. They were to approach the girl's family on the evening of Republic day but the girl's mother hurriedly got her engaged to a boy of her choice on the previous day and told him that there was no need to ask his brother to come over since her daughter was already engaged. No one knew when he left the house and locked himself in his car and committed suicide. A suicide note addressed to his girl friend said it all. There was another note to the SP of Jamshedpur requesting him not to harass the girl or his parents since it was not their fault.
We were speechless. No words could console the bereaved family. Soon after the son's death the mother followed. I thought that our Telgu Tailor would perhaps shift to Rourkela or Kharagpur. A few months later I met him again on my way to a friend's place. He had vacated the house rented by his son and was living all by himself in an one room kitchen unit for a nominal rent. I suggested that he should start stitching again to keep himsel occupied. He smiled and I then realized that one could express not only joy but also sorrow through a smile.
"I stiched clothes to support my family. To give good education to my children. Too many memories were associated with my sewing machine. I cannot bear to go near it." he said.
"Why don't you go to your children?" I asked. "I am sure your elder daughter would be more than happy to support you after all that you've done for her."
"I cannot bear to leave the place where my son grew up." he said "After all, I have only his memories to live by. When I am unable to manage I will have to leave but right now I prefer to stay here."
"Please don't hesitate to let me know if you need help." My words sounded hollow even to my own ears. After all how does one help a person who lives but has no life?
Just out of curiosity I asked "What happened to the girl who caused all this misery?"
"What could she do about my fate? I was destined to lose my son anyway. I only hope that she is happy wherever she is. My son's soul would be pained if she weren't."
I was speechless once more. I was standing in front of magnanimity personified.
Saturday, July 18, 2009
Incompatible alliances (contd.)
A lot has been said about the role of the man and woman in a partnership, married or otherwise. The success of the alliance depends on how much effort is put in to make it work. True, in fact very true. Another question that comes to one's mind is who gets to decide the upper limit of such an effort? Parents with their experience can give useful tips but their role ends there. If a mother feels that her daughter should be happy to have a responsible husband who cares and provides for her and the family, so what if he is is a home bird and refuses to socialize, she is perhaps not wrong. But neither is she right. Cooped up in the house, dealing with a sick mother in law and troublesome children it is natural of the daughter to want to go out and meet others of her age. A compromise formula has to be worked out by the couple in question. Others cannot decide for them.
Then the question arises as to whether a socially sanctioned license in the form of a marriage is necessary at all? I, for one feel that when human beings grouped themselves into clans and society, the arrangement of getting married evolved. Polygamy was not frowned upon in the beginning mainly because menfolk were hunter-gatherers and their lives were at risk. So it was customary for married men who stayed behind to marry the young widow and take care of her children. Later this arrangement became a right and was extended to men whose wives did not bear children and later to those who did not bear sons. Kings and monarchs married for political reasons and some religions allowed men to take on several partners through marriage claiming that it was God's will. Hindu mythology has every kind of alliance as example starting from Gandharva vivah and swayamvar to a monogamous Ram to Murugan with two wives and our charming Krishna whose relationship with Gopika is claimed to be platonic and Radha was his childhood friend. Meera's devotion was again on an entirely different level. One has to just go through the Mahabharat to understand how flexible a society existed at the time. Trial and error perhaps resulted in the present arrangement where a monogamous marriage is linked to accountabilty and is therefore a widely accepted practise.
However, with the tolerance level going down and the pain and trauma of a divorce becoming more common, the feasibility of the arrangement is being questioned. Women empowerment has blurred the division of labour that existed 50 years back where women looked after the house and men went out to work. Men are no longer the sole providers and women no longer wish to be tied down to the kitchen. I don't see anything wrong there and I am all praise for the current generation of young parents where both partners take equal responsibilty in running a family. Evolution, whether societal or biological, always comes with a price tag. The survival of the fittest. Whether genes or unicellular organisms like bacteria, plants or animals, nature eliminates anything that is known to have a deletorious effect on the community and the environment. They are never allowed to flourish. In my opinion the trauma of the present times will soon give rise to the best possible arrangement and that in my opinion would be acceptable to all. Anything that is unacceptable will automatically be rejected and eliminated. People like me worry in vain.
Then the question arises as to whether a socially sanctioned license in the form of a marriage is necessary at all? I, for one feel that when human beings grouped themselves into clans and society, the arrangement of getting married evolved. Polygamy was not frowned upon in the beginning mainly because menfolk were hunter-gatherers and their lives were at risk. So it was customary for married men who stayed behind to marry the young widow and take care of her children. Later this arrangement became a right and was extended to men whose wives did not bear children and later to those who did not bear sons. Kings and monarchs married for political reasons and some religions allowed men to take on several partners through marriage claiming that it was God's will. Hindu mythology has every kind of alliance as example starting from Gandharva vivah and swayamvar to a monogamous Ram to Murugan with two wives and our charming Krishna whose relationship with Gopika is claimed to be platonic and Radha was his childhood friend. Meera's devotion was again on an entirely different level. One has to just go through the Mahabharat to understand how flexible a society existed at the time. Trial and error perhaps resulted in the present arrangement where a monogamous marriage is linked to accountabilty and is therefore a widely accepted practise.
However, with the tolerance level going down and the pain and trauma of a divorce becoming more common, the feasibility of the arrangement is being questioned. Women empowerment has blurred the division of labour that existed 50 years back where women looked after the house and men went out to work. Men are no longer the sole providers and women no longer wish to be tied down to the kitchen. I don't see anything wrong there and I am all praise for the current generation of young parents where both partners take equal responsibilty in running a family. Evolution, whether societal or biological, always comes with a price tag. The survival of the fittest. Whether genes or unicellular organisms like bacteria, plants or animals, nature eliminates anything that is known to have a deletorious effect on the community and the environment. They are never allowed to flourish. In my opinion the trauma of the present times will soon give rise to the best possible arrangement and that in my opinion would be acceptable to all. Anything that is unacceptable will automatically be rejected and eliminated. People like me worry in vain.
Sunday, July 12, 2009
Incompatible alliances
I have so many thoughts crowding my mind that I cannot decide which one to take up first. I think I'll talk of marriages that seem to break even before the couple care enough for each other to even give it a try. Why,why does it appear to happen more and more these days?
I think it was in early 2008 that I had tried to 'Defend Arranged Marriages' and ended up failing miserably since as usual I started seeing the other point of view and actually ended up endorsing (not quite, perhaps?) the right of younsters of Gen X to decide on who they want to spend their lives with. Before I am labeled a hypocrite let me clarify. I could not actually claim that marriages arranged by parents were always successful or that those arranged by the children concerned were disastrous. So I made a safe exit by mumbling something that was acceptable to all. That was just a light beginning to a rather serious issue. So let me get going.
I often think about why Indian parents want to have a say in their children's marriage. They seem liberal enough but when their children marry they prefer to stick to their own community/religion/social standing etc. etc. This is because they feel that their children would be able to adjust better. But is it really so? Take for instance the example of a couple I know or rather heard about.
S and P were neighbors and were happy when their children, both IT professionals decided to marry. 'Thank God they did not choose someone from a different state speaking a strange language' they thought. Their wives felt puffed up. 'Upbringing matters' they beamed at each other. 'It is the culture we've inculcated in them'.
Their joy was shortlived. The highly qualified professionals had not learnt the simple truth that marriage means much more than looking good on the wedding day. The first two years of marriage were okay. Trouble started when the husband wanted the wife to slow down and think of starting a family while the wife, who was on the verge of receiving a promotion and expected to be sent abroad to train a new batch of systems trainees, flatly refused. She felt children could wait. She accused her husband of being jealous of her success. Their relationship soured and even without consulting their parents, they filed for a divorce. Parents pitched in, they were asked to go for counseling. 'Upbringing' and 'culture' seemed to be words without any real meaning. All they could be happy about was that no children were involved in the mess that was called marriage.
B had been a good student and it was no surprise that he was accepted in an American University with full scholarship. His parents were elated and at the age of 18 he left India to study in America. He gradually took to the American way of living. His friends were Americans and he relished their company as well as their food. Weekends for him meant car racing and mountain hiking. Drinking beer after a hard days work was no sin. He got a job in a multinational company in California and his parents started hunting for a suitable girl for him. They were perhaps not too happy with his preference for beef and pork and felt that getting him married to a traditional Indian girl may help him to appreciate everything that was Indian and help him change his ways that were rather objectionable to them.
K was a girl from a traditional south Indian background. True she had done her Engineering and had a good GRE score and hoped to pursue her studies in USA. Her parents would not hear of sending her on her own to America. She could get married and do what she pleased. They found B a suitable choice and after a sound background check on B's family, the kulam - gothram stuff and horoscopes duly matched, the couple were married and K was happy to have a chance to study in America. She was 22 and B was 30, but Tambrahm parents do not bother too much about the age difference. So our Tambrhm bride with no exposure to life outside her immediate community let alone a foreign country was sent to America after the necessary formalities of passport/visa etc were completed. trouble started from day 1. She cooked a simple south Indian meal but B would not touch it. He took out some precooked stuff from the fridge and after heating it up in the microwave and settled down with a glass of beer and started watching some adventure sports on TV. K was shocked to say the least. He seemed to be eating some weird smelling non vegetarian stuff and she had never seen people consume alcohol except villains in movies. He spent his weekends with his friends and she refused to join him. Her idea of spending week ends was a visit to the Indian store, watching some Tamil movie at home enjoying some special south Indian delicacies. A visit to the temple was welcome and she longed for the company of Indians who she was told would also visit the Indian store and temples during weekends. He encouraged her to go out on her own but she was so much in awe of the malls and shopping centers in America that she dared not venture out on her own. He was not used to people dictating terms and here he was, stuck to a wife who was a not only a nag but also a highly opinionated woman who made no effort to understand him. In no time the couple realized that they could not continue to live together and a divorce was the best solution. They could have separated amicably but unfortunately it was not so. I'd rather not go into details because whatever I know is only through third and fourth persons and I may not be fair to them if I went into further details.
There are many more such cases where the blame cannot be accorded to one or the other partner. Parents think that they are doing the right thing by sticking to certain basic rules while choosing a partner for their wards. This may have made sense some 40 to 50 years ago when it was common for children to study and later take up a job in or around their home town. The children more or less followed family traditions and allowed parents to decide on a suitable partner and accepted their choice without a murmur. There are several children who willingly let their parents choose partners for them but there several others who make their own choice and are happily married. I cannot say which is the better arrangement but I do know that if your ambition permits you to let your son/daughter leave home at an impressionable age and have a high flying career, you should be prepared to deal with an adult son/daughter who has a mind of his own. Should you take it upon yourself to arrange their marriage it is imperative that you accomodate their interest in your choice. One cannot have it both ways. As in the case of B and K weren't parents at least partly responsible for the situation? Or in the earlier example were not parents hasty in declaring that it was their upbringing that made their children decide to marry each other? Marriage is a highly personal arrangement and for some reason compromises have become a thing of the past in many cases. Affiliation to the same community or religion is no more a priority and is certainly not a pre-requisite to compatbility.
S and T decided to marry though they belonged to different cutural and religious backgrounds.They were both atheists. P's parents understood and supported the marriage. S could not convince his parents who insisted on conversion. Three years have gone by but they do not understand that for a couple who don't believe in God conversion has no meaning at all. They keep insisting that with age their children would change their view on the existence of God they certainly could not have children who did not belong to any religion. Touch wood the couple are happily married and they have a daughter who adds joy to their lives. Let us hope that his parents see reason for as far as I can see if they miss watching their grand daughter grow the loss is theirs.
I hope I have dealt with the topic with the fairness that it deserves. I would really welcome my readers to come up with their opinion on why marriages fail and who exactly is responsible for the situation. I don't want to be harsh on parents since as one such parent myself I can understand their anxiety and firmly believe that they have their child's welfare in mind. I met a friend's daughter who had been brought up in USA. She was one who had an arranged marriage and her husband was working in the Middle East. The couple met once a year. My daughter was surprised and asked her how she felt about it. "What does one do if one's mother sheds tears and forces you to marry a person of her choice? I have no real feeling for my husband and this long distant arrangement suits me fine." Her honesty surprised me but it also set me thinking. I wondered if the couple would ever bond. I suppose they will. After all most in my generation had an arranged marriage and we did bond with the husband and his family but then ours was not a long distant marriage! Let me stop right here or else I may confuse you.
I think it was in early 2008 that I had tried to 'Defend Arranged Marriages' and ended up failing miserably since as usual I started seeing the other point of view and actually ended up endorsing (not quite, perhaps?) the right of younsters of Gen X to decide on who they want to spend their lives with. Before I am labeled a hypocrite let me clarify. I could not actually claim that marriages arranged by parents were always successful or that those arranged by the children concerned were disastrous. So I made a safe exit by mumbling something that was acceptable to all. That was just a light beginning to a rather serious issue. So let me get going.
I often think about why Indian parents want to have a say in their children's marriage. They seem liberal enough but when their children marry they prefer to stick to their own community/religion/social standing etc. etc. This is because they feel that their children would be able to adjust better. But is it really so? Take for instance the example of a couple I know or rather heard about.
S and P were neighbors and were happy when their children, both IT professionals decided to marry. 'Thank God they did not choose someone from a different state speaking a strange language' they thought. Their wives felt puffed up. 'Upbringing matters' they beamed at each other. 'It is the culture we've inculcated in them'.
Their joy was shortlived. The highly qualified professionals had not learnt the simple truth that marriage means much more than looking good on the wedding day. The first two years of marriage were okay. Trouble started when the husband wanted the wife to slow down and think of starting a family while the wife, who was on the verge of receiving a promotion and expected to be sent abroad to train a new batch of systems trainees, flatly refused. She felt children could wait. She accused her husband of being jealous of her success. Their relationship soured and even without consulting their parents, they filed for a divorce. Parents pitched in, they were asked to go for counseling. 'Upbringing' and 'culture' seemed to be words without any real meaning. All they could be happy about was that no children were involved in the mess that was called marriage.
B had been a good student and it was no surprise that he was accepted in an American University with full scholarship. His parents were elated and at the age of 18 he left India to study in America. He gradually took to the American way of living. His friends were Americans and he relished their company as well as their food. Weekends for him meant car racing and mountain hiking. Drinking beer after a hard days work was no sin. He got a job in a multinational company in California and his parents started hunting for a suitable girl for him. They were perhaps not too happy with his preference for beef and pork and felt that getting him married to a traditional Indian girl may help him to appreciate everything that was Indian and help him change his ways that were rather objectionable to them.
K was a girl from a traditional south Indian background. True she had done her Engineering and had a good GRE score and hoped to pursue her studies in USA. Her parents would not hear of sending her on her own to America. She could get married and do what she pleased. They found B a suitable choice and after a sound background check on B's family, the kulam - gothram stuff and horoscopes duly matched, the couple were married and K was happy to have a chance to study in America. She was 22 and B was 30, but Tambrahm parents do not bother too much about the age difference. So our Tambrhm bride with no exposure to life outside her immediate community let alone a foreign country was sent to America after the necessary formalities of passport/visa etc were completed. trouble started from day 1. She cooked a simple south Indian meal but B would not touch it. He took out some precooked stuff from the fridge and after heating it up in the microwave and settled down with a glass of beer and started watching some adventure sports on TV. K was shocked to say the least. He seemed to be eating some weird smelling non vegetarian stuff and she had never seen people consume alcohol except villains in movies. He spent his weekends with his friends and she refused to join him. Her idea of spending week ends was a visit to the Indian store, watching some Tamil movie at home enjoying some special south Indian delicacies. A visit to the temple was welcome and she longed for the company of Indians who she was told would also visit the Indian store and temples during weekends. He encouraged her to go out on her own but she was so much in awe of the malls and shopping centers in America that she dared not venture out on her own. He was not used to people dictating terms and here he was, stuck to a wife who was a not only a nag but also a highly opinionated woman who made no effort to understand him. In no time the couple realized that they could not continue to live together and a divorce was the best solution. They could have separated amicably but unfortunately it was not so. I'd rather not go into details because whatever I know is only through third and fourth persons and I may not be fair to them if I went into further details.
There are many more such cases where the blame cannot be accorded to one or the other partner. Parents think that they are doing the right thing by sticking to certain basic rules while choosing a partner for their wards. This may have made sense some 40 to 50 years ago when it was common for children to study and later take up a job in or around their home town. The children more or less followed family traditions and allowed parents to decide on a suitable partner and accepted their choice without a murmur. There are several children who willingly let their parents choose partners for them but there several others who make their own choice and are happily married. I cannot say which is the better arrangement but I do know that if your ambition permits you to let your son/daughter leave home at an impressionable age and have a high flying career, you should be prepared to deal with an adult son/daughter who has a mind of his own. Should you take it upon yourself to arrange their marriage it is imperative that you accomodate their interest in your choice. One cannot have it both ways. As in the case of B and K weren't parents at least partly responsible for the situation? Or in the earlier example were not parents hasty in declaring that it was their upbringing that made their children decide to marry each other? Marriage is a highly personal arrangement and for some reason compromises have become a thing of the past in many cases. Affiliation to the same community or religion is no more a priority and is certainly not a pre-requisite to compatbility.
S and T decided to marry though they belonged to different cutural and religious backgrounds.They were both atheists. P's parents understood and supported the marriage. S could not convince his parents who insisted on conversion. Three years have gone by but they do not understand that for a couple who don't believe in God conversion has no meaning at all. They keep insisting that with age their children would change their view on the existence of God they certainly could not have children who did not belong to any religion. Touch wood the couple are happily married and they have a daughter who adds joy to their lives. Let us hope that his parents see reason for as far as I can see if they miss watching their grand daughter grow the loss is theirs.
I hope I have dealt with the topic with the fairness that it deserves. I would really welcome my readers to come up with their opinion on why marriages fail and who exactly is responsible for the situation. I don't want to be harsh on parents since as one such parent myself I can understand their anxiety and firmly believe that they have their child's welfare in mind. I met a friend's daughter who had been brought up in USA. She was one who had an arranged marriage and her husband was working in the Middle East. The couple met once a year. My daughter was surprised and asked her how she felt about it. "What does one do if one's mother sheds tears and forces you to marry a person of her choice? I have no real feeling for my husband and this long distant arrangement suits me fine." Her honesty surprised me but it also set me thinking. I wondered if the couple would ever bond. I suppose they will. After all most in my generation had an arranged marriage and we did bond with the husband and his family but then ours was not a long distant marriage! Let me stop right here or else I may confuse you.
Wednesday, July 08, 2009
Hello...........oo
It feels good to be back. It feels great to arrive home at 10:30AM and a phone call from college greets one at 11:00 AM enquiring whether I plan to join college the very same day! It feels wonderful to be wanted. To know that people care for you. I would have liked to have taken a day or two off but I rushed to college and saw the relief on my colleague's face.
"You were running out of leave. I was wondering how to adjust it. Thank God you're back."
Now this particular girl was assistant to the Principal's PA and to be frank I was not on very great terms with her. Just cordial and polite but never more than that. I was touched. It was on her insistance that my HOD rang me up and asked me to join the same day. She could have let things be. A salary cut for me would have made no difference to her. But that is what our college is all about! Thank you S, I'll always remember your concern.
My stay in America was hectic. Grandchildren are a source of joy. I returned to India dreaming about them. While I am not too keen on relocating to the US of A I am glad that our tools of communication is improving by the day and we can remain in constant touch and who'd have thought that I'd be traveling to America as if it was a trip to Bombay or Delhi! Starting from 2002 I've met my children almost each year except perhaps in 2005 and I have no reason to complain.
I get to read some good books whenever I visit my children. So it was this time also. I'd recommend My Stroke of Insight by Dr. Jill Taylor to all of you. It is about the miraculous recovery of the author from a massive stroke and the manner she rediscovered the working of the human brain and the impact it had on her life. Those of us that believe in universal brotherhood and love for fellow human beings should definitely go through this book. According to her, the left hemisphere of our brain is rigid, recognizes limits and is responsible for the analytical side of our nature. This often results in a judgemental attitude and egoistic tendencies. The right side is responsible for a blending, harmonious approach where one can experience universal harmony and bliss and oneness with nature. A balanced mind is the result of according equal importance to both sides so that one can be tolerant without being submissive and analytical without being judgemental. I was greatly impressed and brought the book back to India for others to read and benefit by Dr. Taylor's personal account.
So when my husband blasts me for no fault of mine I plan to tell him that it's really not his fault. I understand that the left side of his brain is working overtime and need to rest a bit!...**wink, wink**. Actually the 6 weeks of alone time has proved useful and he is extra nice these days. I hope I really remember to say all this when our usual routine sets in. The next time I crib about him please remind me won't you?
I think that is enough for a come back post. Hillgmom is planning a trip to USa to see her new grandson. I can sense her excitement. Little Anush is all excited about having a little one at home and I congratulate artnavy for the good news she gave us. As for the rest of you, I am finally done with my jet lag and will catch up on your posts soon. A big hello from me to each of you. Hello.......oo
"You were running out of leave. I was wondering how to adjust it. Thank God you're back."
Now this particular girl was assistant to the Principal's PA and to be frank I was not on very great terms with her. Just cordial and polite but never more than that. I was touched. It was on her insistance that my HOD rang me up and asked me to join the same day. She could have let things be. A salary cut for me would have made no difference to her. But that is what our college is all about! Thank you S, I'll always remember your concern.
My stay in America was hectic. Grandchildren are a source of joy. I returned to India dreaming about them. While I am not too keen on relocating to the US of A I am glad that our tools of communication is improving by the day and we can remain in constant touch and who'd have thought that I'd be traveling to America as if it was a trip to Bombay or Delhi! Starting from 2002 I've met my children almost each year except perhaps in 2005 and I have no reason to complain.
I get to read some good books whenever I visit my children. So it was this time also. I'd recommend My Stroke of Insight by Dr. Jill Taylor to all of you. It is about the miraculous recovery of the author from a massive stroke and the manner she rediscovered the working of the human brain and the impact it had on her life. Those of us that believe in universal brotherhood and love for fellow human beings should definitely go through this book. According to her, the left hemisphere of our brain is rigid, recognizes limits and is responsible for the analytical side of our nature. This often results in a judgemental attitude and egoistic tendencies. The right side is responsible for a blending, harmonious approach where one can experience universal harmony and bliss and oneness with nature. A balanced mind is the result of according equal importance to both sides so that one can be tolerant without being submissive and analytical without being judgemental. I was greatly impressed and brought the book back to India for others to read and benefit by Dr. Taylor's personal account.
So when my husband blasts me for no fault of mine I plan to tell him that it's really not his fault. I understand that the left side of his brain is working overtime and need to rest a bit!...**wink, wink**. Actually the 6 weeks of alone time has proved useful and he is extra nice these days. I hope I really remember to say all this when our usual routine sets in. The next time I crib about him please remind me won't you?
I think that is enough for a come back post. Hillgmom is planning a trip to USa to see her new grandson. I can sense her excitement. Little Anush is all excited about having a little one at home and I congratulate artnavy for the good news she gave us. As for the rest of you, I am finally done with my jet lag and will catch up on your posts soon. A big hello from me to each of you. Hello.......oo
Friday, May 29, 2009
Tagged
Monika has tagged me to share with you an experience that was scary and horror filled. I cannot think of many such instances since my life has followed a pretty normal course with not many thrillers thrown in. But there is one that scared the life out of me and that is what I plan to report.
It was way back in 1975 and just on new year's day. I was returning to Jamshedpur with my first born-just three months old. My uncle was to accompany me. My mother came to the station to see me off. I was to board a train bound for Chennai coming from Mangalore and the train stopped at Erode where I was supposed to board, for just 10 minutes. I was naturally upset at having to leave home. My mother was full of advices as to how the child needed to be cared for during the long journey and other useful tips that only aa mother can give. The train arrived and my uncle got busy loading the luggage and left me along with the baby and my mother. He came back in 5 minutes and found that my mother was no longer standing by my side and I had no clue as to where she had gone. Now my mother's eyesight was weak and about 70% gone. There was no way we could find out whom she had followed and which compartment she might have gotten into. My mama was almost in tears and asked to porter to bring down all the luggage that had been loaded. A cousin Ambi, who had accompanied us and was to take my mother back jumped in and out of each compartment looking for her and all I could do was to stare at the train, child in hand and eyes filled with tears. Just when the guard was about to blow the whistle Ambi got down from a compartment followed by my mother. relieved to see her my mama ordered the porter to re-load the luggage and almost shoving me into the train waved a hurried good bye to my mother asking Ambi to take her home. We did not even know if all items of luggage had been loaded or not and it was only when the train began to move that the gravity of the situation began to register in our minds. It so happened that my mother mistook someone else for my uncle and followed the person into the wrong compartment. Once inside she could not see a thing and kept calling our names. I still shudder to think of what may have happened if the train had moved before she was located and disembarked. My only regret to this day is that I had the responsibility to take care of her in a busy platform and I had somehow failed her.
I invite all my readers to consider themselves tagged and share their horror experiences with us.
It was way back in 1975 and just on new year's day. I was returning to Jamshedpur with my first born-just three months old. My uncle was to accompany me. My mother came to the station to see me off. I was to board a train bound for Chennai coming from Mangalore and the train stopped at Erode where I was supposed to board, for just 10 minutes. I was naturally upset at having to leave home. My mother was full of advices as to how the child needed to be cared for during the long journey and other useful tips that only aa mother can give. The train arrived and my uncle got busy loading the luggage and left me along with the baby and my mother. He came back in 5 minutes and found that my mother was no longer standing by my side and I had no clue as to where she had gone. Now my mother's eyesight was weak and about 70% gone. There was no way we could find out whom she had followed and which compartment she might have gotten into. My mama was almost in tears and asked to porter to bring down all the luggage that had been loaded. A cousin Ambi, who had accompanied us and was to take my mother back jumped in and out of each compartment looking for her and all I could do was to stare at the train, child in hand and eyes filled with tears. Just when the guard was about to blow the whistle Ambi got down from a compartment followed by my mother. relieved to see her my mama ordered the porter to re-load the luggage and almost shoving me into the train waved a hurried good bye to my mother asking Ambi to take her home. We did not even know if all items of luggage had been loaded or not and it was only when the train began to move that the gravity of the situation began to register in our minds. It so happened that my mother mistook someone else for my uncle and followed the person into the wrong compartment. Once inside she could not see a thing and kept calling our names. I still shudder to think of what may have happened if the train had moved before she was located and disembarked. My only regret to this day is that I had the responsibility to take care of her in a busy platform and I had somehow failed her.
I invite all my readers to consider themselves tagged and share their horror experiences with us.
Friday, May 22, 2009
Tagged by The Pack
The Pack has tagged me to reveal 10 facts about me. Well I am not sure if there are 10 things to report about me that would interest others. But since the number is fixed one must strive to make ordinary facts interesting to esure readership. So here I go.
1. My readers ought to know by now that I talk a lot. Yes, i do. I take ten minutes to describe an event or information that others would say in perhaps two minutes? My son hushes me up at times and asks me to come to the point. I'll try, I promise, to mke my posts crisp and readable.
2. I am kind of laid back and were it not for my responsibilities as wife and mother and teacher to fulfill I may just not have a priority list to do things.Right now, at my son's place in New York I am enjoying myself by simply not following any order of doing things. It helps that I have no servant to worry about or else I'd have to finish my work to give her work. Jet lag is a pleasure, I sleep like a log in the afternoon, read a book at three in the morning have lunch at four in the evening......... Oh! what bliss.I can do what I want to and blame it on jet lag. It cannot continue for ever and back in India in about 40 days time I have to follow a routine, jet lag or not. But lemme enjoy myself while I can.
3. I am the kind of person who is perhaps quite approachable. In most of my train/plane journeys I find people talk to me easily. When I landed in New York and while waiting for prepaid transport, there was this woman talking English with a German or perhaps Italian accent (not that I know for sure, I only assumed) who told me that she watched a program 'way to India' or something like that and we spoke for 5 minutes and my son was kind of surprised as to what I could have possibly said to a complete stranger. Remember, she talked to me first. There are women, starting from one who fills water by the roadside to another who is utterly religious and has had a bath when I go for my morning walk, there are so many who have a kind word to say to me. I am indeed blessed.
4. I have a soft corner for women in distress. When I first started working and got a flat salary of Rs. 680/- during my probation period, I felt so empowered that I actually allowed a neighbor to take advantage of me with her sob stories. Another time a widow with 4 children and no job became an eligible candidate for my kindness. It is quite another thing that these ladies forgot me when their situations improved and my husband keeps warning me all the time but I am yet to learn my lesson in a big way. I am however more careful these days.
5. I am not the kind to fuss over my children. Oh yes, I am there to support and help them when they need me. But I've seen mothers cook separate items for dinner for each of her fussy children, or worry about the dress her daughter should wear for a particular occasion. I've seen others questioning teachers about each mark scored or not scored in a particular paper. I don't know if the credit goes to me or my children, but they have been uncomplaining and I've been non interfering, unless of course the matter was really serious. None of us have bothered too much about little eyesores. May be it was the situation we were in or my basic nature or the fact that there was really no cause for panic/alarm we've lead a pretty much comfortable life.
6. While I trust my children to manage well on their own, I cannot say that about my husband. I behave like a mother hen and my children call me an enabler. May be this is because I've seen my mother in law behaving like this towards him.
7. I've said this before and I say it again, I do not care too much for shopping. Window shopping?? I cannot shop for the sake of spending time. in Jamshedpur I know where exactly to look for things and it doesn't take me long to find what I want.
8. I cannot sing but I love listening to music. I am not too much of a TV person and I hate it when people keep changing channels.
9. I used to read a lot earlier but I've now become selective. I am currently reading a book on polygamy that existed in the Mormon community some 100 years back. It is surprising how religion could be used to justify the practice. Here again books dealing with the plight of women interests me. I see that cutting across cultures and religion women have always had to stand up for their rights.
10. I cannot defend myself. When I am accused of something I start seeing the other persons perspective and kind of offer to accept blame or at least part of it. In very much the same way I've always tried to find out what my children did before defending them. And even if they were right I prefer to advice them to stay away from trouble mongers.
So that was a long list. I promised to make my post short. Please wish me luck next time. As for now to quote a character in a Stephen King's novel 'Done, bun, cannot be undone'.
To tag others-
I think I'll tag those who've been quiet for sometime now.
I tag Dipali, Hillgrandmom, Lalitha of across the miles, Srijith Unni and Sumana.
Get going all of you.
As for me I have another tag to do before I get busy helping my daughter to relocate.
1. My readers ought to know by now that I talk a lot. Yes, i do. I take ten minutes to describe an event or information that others would say in perhaps two minutes? My son hushes me up at times and asks me to come to the point. I'll try, I promise, to mke my posts crisp and readable.
2. I am kind of laid back and were it not for my responsibilities as wife and mother and teacher to fulfill I may just not have a priority list to do things.Right now, at my son's place in New York I am enjoying myself by simply not following any order of doing things. It helps that I have no servant to worry about or else I'd have to finish my work to give her work. Jet lag is a pleasure, I sleep like a log in the afternoon, read a book at three in the morning have lunch at four in the evening......... Oh! what bliss.I can do what I want to and blame it on jet lag. It cannot continue for ever and back in India in about 40 days time I have to follow a routine, jet lag or not. But lemme enjoy myself while I can.
3. I am the kind of person who is perhaps quite approachable. In most of my train/plane journeys I find people talk to me easily. When I landed in New York and while waiting for prepaid transport, there was this woman talking English with a German or perhaps Italian accent (not that I know for sure, I only assumed) who told me that she watched a program 'way to India' or something like that and we spoke for 5 minutes and my son was kind of surprised as to what I could have possibly said to a complete stranger. Remember, she talked to me first. There are women, starting from one who fills water by the roadside to another who is utterly religious and has had a bath when I go for my morning walk, there are so many who have a kind word to say to me. I am indeed blessed.
4. I have a soft corner for women in distress. When I first started working and got a flat salary of Rs. 680/- during my probation period, I felt so empowered that I actually allowed a neighbor to take advantage of me with her sob stories. Another time a widow with 4 children and no job became an eligible candidate for my kindness. It is quite another thing that these ladies forgot me when their situations improved and my husband keeps warning me all the time but I am yet to learn my lesson in a big way. I am however more careful these days.
5. I am not the kind to fuss over my children. Oh yes, I am there to support and help them when they need me. But I've seen mothers cook separate items for dinner for each of her fussy children, or worry about the dress her daughter should wear for a particular occasion. I've seen others questioning teachers about each mark scored or not scored in a particular paper. I don't know if the credit goes to me or my children, but they have been uncomplaining and I've been non interfering, unless of course the matter was really serious. None of us have bothered too much about little eyesores. May be it was the situation we were in or my basic nature or the fact that there was really no cause for panic/alarm we've lead a pretty much comfortable life.
6. While I trust my children to manage well on their own, I cannot say that about my husband. I behave like a mother hen and my children call me an enabler. May be this is because I've seen my mother in law behaving like this towards him.
7. I've said this before and I say it again, I do not care too much for shopping. Window shopping?? I cannot shop for the sake of spending time. in Jamshedpur I know where exactly to look for things and it doesn't take me long to find what I want.
8. I cannot sing but I love listening to music. I am not too much of a TV person and I hate it when people keep changing channels.
9. I used to read a lot earlier but I've now become selective. I am currently reading a book on polygamy that existed in the Mormon community some 100 years back. It is surprising how religion could be used to justify the practice. Here again books dealing with the plight of women interests me. I see that cutting across cultures and religion women have always had to stand up for their rights.
10. I cannot defend myself. When I am accused of something I start seeing the other persons perspective and kind of offer to accept blame or at least part of it. In very much the same way I've always tried to find out what my children did before defending them. And even if they were right I prefer to advice them to stay away from trouble mongers.
So that was a long list. I promised to make my post short. Please wish me luck next time. As for now to quote a character in a Stephen King's novel 'Done, bun, cannot be undone'.
To tag others-
I think I'll tag those who've been quiet for sometime now.
I tag Dipali, Hillgrandmom, Lalitha of across the miles, Srijith Unni and Sumana.
Get going all of you.
As for me I have another tag to do before I get busy helping my daughter to relocate.
Saturday, May 09, 2009
Unconditional Love and motherhood.
I felt like writing something about motherhood on Mother's day when I chanced upon Shoba's piece on unconditional love and decided to combine the two. Motherhood is defined as love personified and to a good extent it is unconditional. But it is certainly not so in the true sense of the term. I, for one feel it should not be so for the simple reason that unconditional love for one's children makes one overlook their faults and unfortunately to the extent of endorsing them. Let me give you an example.
I had mentioned about Mr. S in this post of mine. Unfortunately he and his wife were blind to their child's faults and today the couple have no peace of mind thanks to the son. It breaks my heart to see him fold hands in front of his scooter, praying perhaps for the safety of his son. Yes, the son met with a major accident due to drunken driving and the middle class family had to shell out their life time savings to save him. Blindly supporting one's ward will not help and unfortunately it is the mother who chooses to do so and often ends up holding vital information even from the father until things spin out of control. Motherhood is also a responsibility and there is no harm laying down conditions if only they would serve to disciplune your child.
P was widowed at the age of 36 and the onus of raising four sons fell on her. Her husband, when alive was a prudent spender but upon his untimely death had left her a tidy sum of money in addition to gold and several acres of land. She decided that her sons would have the very best and anyone who warned her about her overspending became her enemy. The family literally ate the money away and within 10 years there was nothing left. Not to be put off she encouraged the sons to gamble and speculate and finally the boys became paupers with huge sums as loans to their credit. Their wives lost all the jewelry they got as dowry from their parents and were open in their criticism of the mother whom they held responsible. While I agree that one's love for his/her children should want them to have the very best it should be conditional to their means. If everyone who gambled and speculated made lots of money all our bookies would have closed shop long back.
K's mother loved her a lot. She never let her do even a minor chore in the house. When the daughter got married her love for the daughter was such that she'd visit the daughter almost every month and be fiercely protective of her to the extent of interfering in the couple's day to day affairs and finally it was not the son in law but the daughter who showed her the door. She was devastated but had only herself to blame for the situation.
This mother's day I would appeal to all mothers to set terms and conditions if you want your child to mature into responsible adults. You may spare the rod by all means,for nothing has ever been achieved by terrorizing people. There are umpteen other ways to show that you care a lot for them but you also have certain expectations from them and being responsible human beings tops the list. Remember, if things go wrong you are the one who will be blamed.
I had the pleasure of going through a number of posts on the tag that connected mothers from all over the world. Each one was unique and special. Many wrote about how happy they were to hold their baby for the first time and how they watched him/her grow and so many other things. Motherhood is all about letting go.
Your child at the age of one wants to be let down to play with others of his age. You gladly oblige.
Your child runs off to school waving to his friends. You are glad that he has found a play group.
Your children stop talking the minute you enter the room. They have secrets that they do not wish to share with you. It hurts but you accept the situation all the same.
Your adult daughter/son has found a partner or may be you have found one for them. Either way they are ready to enter the next important phase of their lives. It becomes imperative to become invisible unless the situation demands that you interfere. And the reason for your interferance better be valid. The relationship cannot evolve with you breathing down their necks.
So at the end of it mother hood is about being conditional when your children are growing and unconditional when they settle down in life. One just has to decide where to draw the line.
Happy Mother's day to all of you moms and supermoms!
I had mentioned about Mr. S in this post of mine. Unfortunately he and his wife were blind to their child's faults and today the couple have no peace of mind thanks to the son. It breaks my heart to see him fold hands in front of his scooter, praying perhaps for the safety of his son. Yes, the son met with a major accident due to drunken driving and the middle class family had to shell out their life time savings to save him. Blindly supporting one's ward will not help and unfortunately it is the mother who chooses to do so and often ends up holding vital information even from the father until things spin out of control. Motherhood is also a responsibility and there is no harm laying down conditions if only they would serve to disciplune your child.
P was widowed at the age of 36 and the onus of raising four sons fell on her. Her husband, when alive was a prudent spender but upon his untimely death had left her a tidy sum of money in addition to gold and several acres of land. She decided that her sons would have the very best and anyone who warned her about her overspending became her enemy. The family literally ate the money away and within 10 years there was nothing left. Not to be put off she encouraged the sons to gamble and speculate and finally the boys became paupers with huge sums as loans to their credit. Their wives lost all the jewelry they got as dowry from their parents and were open in their criticism of the mother whom they held responsible. While I agree that one's love for his/her children should want them to have the very best it should be conditional to their means. If everyone who gambled and speculated made lots of money all our bookies would have closed shop long back.
K's mother loved her a lot. She never let her do even a minor chore in the house. When the daughter got married her love for the daughter was such that she'd visit the daughter almost every month and be fiercely protective of her to the extent of interfering in the couple's day to day affairs and finally it was not the son in law but the daughter who showed her the door. She was devastated but had only herself to blame for the situation.
This mother's day I would appeal to all mothers to set terms and conditions if you want your child to mature into responsible adults. You may spare the rod by all means,for nothing has ever been achieved by terrorizing people. There are umpteen other ways to show that you care a lot for them but you also have certain expectations from them and being responsible human beings tops the list. Remember, if things go wrong you are the one who will be blamed.
I had the pleasure of going through a number of posts on the tag that connected mothers from all over the world. Each one was unique and special. Many wrote about how happy they were to hold their baby for the first time and how they watched him/her grow and so many other things. Motherhood is all about letting go.
Your child at the age of one wants to be let down to play with others of his age. You gladly oblige.
Your child runs off to school waving to his friends. You are glad that he has found a play group.
Your children stop talking the minute you enter the room. They have secrets that they do not wish to share with you. It hurts but you accept the situation all the same.
Your adult daughter/son has found a partner or may be you have found one for them. Either way they are ready to enter the next important phase of their lives. It becomes imperative to become invisible unless the situation demands that you interfere. And the reason for your interferance better be valid. The relationship cannot evolve with you breathing down their necks.
So at the end of it mother hood is about being conditional when your children are growing and unconditional when they settle down in life. One just has to decide where to draw the line.
Happy Mother's day to all of you moms and supermoms!
Wednesday, May 06, 2009
The Karma Philosophy.
Troubles come in battalions and one tends to feel all is lost. They are like thunder clouds that darken the sky and there is gloom in the air. But then there is a downpour and it is all bright and sunny again. Do we wish away thunderstorms and torrential rains? Of course we don’t. It is only on the rarest of occasions that torrential rains cause havoc in the form of floods and the human race is such that even after a tsunami people muster courage and start anew.
Take for instance Mr. T who faced a tsunami like situation some 10 years back. He lost his older brother to a major heart attack although he went for routine annual check ups and no heart trouble was ever detected. The brother was in fact a father figure since Mr. T lost his mother at an early age and it was his brother who took care of his emotional health ever since his father remarried and a step mother arrived on the scene. He hardly got over his brother’s death when the company he worked for decided to forcibly retire some of its employees and he was one among the unlucky few. With four children studying, two in high school and two in college, the family was devastated. Lay offs were not common but his organization was trying to reduce its work force, thanks to automation and computer technology. They dared not touch the workers with a solid union support. Officers were the affected ones and their services could be terminated on the slightest pretext. Everyone seemed to write Mr. T off. His wife stood by his side like a rock and the family managed to tide through troubled times. The children rose to the occasion and are doing very well in life thanks to their combined effort.
Mr. P likewise thought all was lost when following a mild heart attack he was asked to go for a bypass surgery. He was a teacher by profession and our government seems to think that teachers do not fall ill. He got a medical allowance Rs. 20/- quite enough to buy 2 strips of paracetamol or asprin but certainly not sufficient for financing costly medical treatment. His son had just joined his MBA and he had exhausted all his savings for his admission to the course. His wife again rose to the occasion. The extended family helped as much as they could. 16 years have gone by and today the family is up on its feet with the son and daughter happily married. Friendly loans have been repaid and the truma they faced is now a thing of the past.
My own sister in law suffered a stroke and was on ventilator for nearly a month. Finance was not a major issue but with a weak heart and an urgent need to have a valve replacement things did not look bright. It was sheer will power that saw her through and today she has recovered sufficiently and is well enough to direct the servants. She is once again the supporting wife she had always been.
I can give so many similar examples where a traumatic turn of events for whatever reason depresses the spirit of a family but the revolving wheels of time sees to it that a cold winter is soon followed by a cheerful spring and summer. After the initial shock one gathers strength and fights back.
When my father passed away one heard relatives saying that my mother would have been better off if the two younger children had not been born. She could have got the daughters married and lived with the older son. Now the younger two had not even begun school and were an added responsibility. Logical enough but I’d feel outraged and fiercely protective about my kid brothers. Now I realize that the responsibility of having two children to care for actually gave my mother a good reason to lead a purposeful life. She was visually challenged and was almost blind for the last 10-12 years of her life. She had stopped reading and writing long back. But her mental sharpness was immense. She’d remember details about when the interest from fixed deposits were due, what her bank balance should be at any given time, the amount that she last withdrew and god knows what else. She lived to see all of us settled and spent her final years surrounded by doting grandchildren and dutiful sons and daughters in law.
Why should people suffer at all, I wonder. There are explanations of the sins of past births and the balancing of karma. They say that the sins of our ancestors have to be accounted for and just as the son is expected to pay off the father’s debt we suffer due to the misdeeds of our forefathers. All this is fine and help one to find reason to fight back. As long as one is not directly accused and the blame lies on an unknown ancestor one seems motivated to get on with life. I have a different explanation to offer. I do not know of past or future births or the good/bad deeds of my ancestors. But I do know that just as spring cannot be appreciated unless winter precedes it, the good things we are bestowed with cannot be appreciated unless the possibility/ probability of bad times was either experienced or foreseen. I wonder if there is any other explanation.
Take for instance Mr. T who faced a tsunami like situation some 10 years back. He lost his older brother to a major heart attack although he went for routine annual check ups and no heart trouble was ever detected. The brother was in fact a father figure since Mr. T lost his mother at an early age and it was his brother who took care of his emotional health ever since his father remarried and a step mother arrived on the scene. He hardly got over his brother’s death when the company he worked for decided to forcibly retire some of its employees and he was one among the unlucky few. With four children studying, two in high school and two in college, the family was devastated. Lay offs were not common but his organization was trying to reduce its work force, thanks to automation and computer technology. They dared not touch the workers with a solid union support. Officers were the affected ones and their services could be terminated on the slightest pretext. Everyone seemed to write Mr. T off. His wife stood by his side like a rock and the family managed to tide through troubled times. The children rose to the occasion and are doing very well in life thanks to their combined effort.
Mr. P likewise thought all was lost when following a mild heart attack he was asked to go for a bypass surgery. He was a teacher by profession and our government seems to think that teachers do not fall ill. He got a medical allowance Rs. 20/- quite enough to buy 2 strips of paracetamol or asprin but certainly not sufficient for financing costly medical treatment. His son had just joined his MBA and he had exhausted all his savings for his admission to the course. His wife again rose to the occasion. The extended family helped as much as they could. 16 years have gone by and today the family is up on its feet with the son and daughter happily married. Friendly loans have been repaid and the truma they faced is now a thing of the past.
My own sister in law suffered a stroke and was on ventilator for nearly a month. Finance was not a major issue but with a weak heart and an urgent need to have a valve replacement things did not look bright. It was sheer will power that saw her through and today she has recovered sufficiently and is well enough to direct the servants. She is once again the supporting wife she had always been.
I can give so many similar examples where a traumatic turn of events for whatever reason depresses the spirit of a family but the revolving wheels of time sees to it that a cold winter is soon followed by a cheerful spring and summer. After the initial shock one gathers strength and fights back.
When my father passed away one heard relatives saying that my mother would have been better off if the two younger children had not been born. She could have got the daughters married and lived with the older son. Now the younger two had not even begun school and were an added responsibility. Logical enough but I’d feel outraged and fiercely protective about my kid brothers. Now I realize that the responsibility of having two children to care for actually gave my mother a good reason to lead a purposeful life. She was visually challenged and was almost blind for the last 10-12 years of her life. She had stopped reading and writing long back. But her mental sharpness was immense. She’d remember details about when the interest from fixed deposits were due, what her bank balance should be at any given time, the amount that she last withdrew and god knows what else. She lived to see all of us settled and spent her final years surrounded by doting grandchildren and dutiful sons and daughters in law.
Why should people suffer at all, I wonder. There are explanations of the sins of past births and the balancing of karma. They say that the sins of our ancestors have to be accounted for and just as the son is expected to pay off the father’s debt we suffer due to the misdeeds of our forefathers. All this is fine and help one to find reason to fight back. As long as one is not directly accused and the blame lies on an unknown ancestor one seems motivated to get on with life. I have a different explanation to offer. I do not know of past or future births or the good/bad deeds of my ancestors. But I do know that just as spring cannot be appreciated unless winter precedes it, the good things we are bestowed with cannot be appreciated unless the possibility/ probability of bad times was either experienced or foreseen. I wonder if there is any other explanation.
Friday, April 24, 2009
The election experience.
I thought i'd write about the farce they call elections in India, the biggest democracy in the world. I am too sleepy now and slightly off mood for not being able to vote. As for the plight of my colleagues who went on polling duty to some interior, naxal controlled areas, well they called up to tell me that they had reached home safe and sound and promised to share their experiences when college re-opened on Monday. I was glad that they understood that I was concerned. Luckily ladies were spared this time.
Several colleges and schools were closed down since they were needed for election purposes, crores of rupees have been spent yet at least fifty percent of those whom I contacted after the election on the 23rd of April said that they kept running from booth to booth but could not find their name listed in any of them. Our area can be described as a rectangle 2 kms. in length and 1 km. broad. Yet to prepare a master chart indicating the allotment of booths to its residents was too difficult a task. Had they deputed a few sincere staff members of our college to make out such a list we would have happily obliged. Another thing that left me wondering is that our uneducated milkman and dhobi were able to cast their votes while educated people could not. I am in an uncompromising mood so I truly feel that we were deliberately confused and forced to retreat while the possibility of bogus voting in our place cannot be ruled out.
This is how I gave vent to my feelings-
I checked the internet and visited the concerned site. It opened a page with 255 booths listed and asked me to click on my booth. Had I known the number of my booth I'd have cast my vote and not surf the net.
'Fools' I muttered under my breath. There was a contact number.
I rang up.
It was the DC's office
A voice answered the phone pretty quickly. My hope started building up.
Me:Sir, I am calling from Kadma. I've been trying to locate my booth since morning. Could you help?
Voice:Sorry ma'am. why don't you try a few booths near your home. we've tried to allot the nearest booth to residents of a particular area.
Me:I've tried 5 booths and no luck yet.
Voice: you can check our site in the net.
Me: I'm sitting right in front of the computer but I can't click on 255 spots and check each and every voters' list. Could you tell me the booth numbers for Kadma?
Voice: I'll call another person and he may be able to help you.
I waited for 2 minutes and a second voice took over.
Second Voice: How may I help you?
Me: You may help me by helping me locate my booth. I want to cast my vote. Do you have any provision for me to feed my voter ID number to locate my booth. Or if I give you my name could you locate it for me?
Second voice: Sorry ma'am, the DIO (God knows what it stood for) is attending a meeting. We'll get back to you when he comes back. He may have a list.
Me: Do you have my phone number?? How do you plan to get back to me?
Second voice: No, ma'am. Why don't you ring us up in 10 minutes. We'll try to find out.
I was in a terrible mood by then-
Me: Do you have my name or my address to try and find out. What kind of system are you running? In the scorching heat we've been running from booth to booth to cast our vote and it is already two in the afternoon. Your dumb website has no purposeful information and your officer goes for a meeting taking the list with him and you guys have no backup copy. If educated people have so much trouble what would be the plight of illiterate people?
Voice: I understand ma'am but I am not in a position to help.
At this point I felt genuinely sorry for blasting the poor fellow. With our administrative officers unable to direct their sub ordinates, despite being treated like pampered sons in law, there was no point yelling at this man who was perhaps a peon or counter clerk. The cynic in me says that this was perhaps deliberately done. A professor in our colony went with his wife to cast his vote. His name was missing while his wife a home maker was allowed to vote since her name figured in the list. Another friend, a school teacher looked up my name wherever she went and I checked on hers. Neither of us could locate our names.
Tell me am I wrong in calling the election process a farce and waste of time?
Several colleges and schools were closed down since they were needed for election purposes, crores of rupees have been spent yet at least fifty percent of those whom I contacted after the election on the 23rd of April said that they kept running from booth to booth but could not find their name listed in any of them. Our area can be described as a rectangle 2 kms. in length and 1 km. broad. Yet to prepare a master chart indicating the allotment of booths to its residents was too difficult a task. Had they deputed a few sincere staff members of our college to make out such a list we would have happily obliged. Another thing that left me wondering is that our uneducated milkman and dhobi were able to cast their votes while educated people could not. I am in an uncompromising mood so I truly feel that we were deliberately confused and forced to retreat while the possibility of bogus voting in our place cannot be ruled out.
This is how I gave vent to my feelings-
I checked the internet and visited the concerned site. It opened a page with 255 booths listed and asked me to click on my booth. Had I known the number of my booth I'd have cast my vote and not surf the net.
'Fools' I muttered under my breath. There was a contact number.
I rang up.
It was the DC's office
A voice answered the phone pretty quickly. My hope started building up.
Me:Sir, I am calling from Kadma. I've been trying to locate my booth since morning. Could you help?
Voice:Sorry ma'am. why don't you try a few booths near your home. we've tried to allot the nearest booth to residents of a particular area.
Me:I've tried 5 booths and no luck yet.
Voice: you can check our site in the net.
Me: I'm sitting right in front of the computer but I can't click on 255 spots and check each and every voters' list. Could you tell me the booth numbers for Kadma?
Voice: I'll call another person and he may be able to help you.
I waited for 2 minutes and a second voice took over.
Second Voice: How may I help you?
Me: You may help me by helping me locate my booth. I want to cast my vote. Do you have any provision for me to feed my voter ID number to locate my booth. Or if I give you my name could you locate it for me?
Second voice: Sorry ma'am, the DIO (God knows what it stood for) is attending a meeting. We'll get back to you when he comes back. He may have a list.
Me: Do you have my phone number?? How do you plan to get back to me?
Second voice: No, ma'am. Why don't you ring us up in 10 minutes. We'll try to find out.
I was in a terrible mood by then-
Me: Do you have my name or my address to try and find out. What kind of system are you running? In the scorching heat we've been running from booth to booth to cast our vote and it is already two in the afternoon. Your dumb website has no purposeful information and your officer goes for a meeting taking the list with him and you guys have no backup copy. If educated people have so much trouble what would be the plight of illiterate people?
Voice: I understand ma'am but I am not in a position to help.
At this point I felt genuinely sorry for blasting the poor fellow. With our administrative officers unable to direct their sub ordinates, despite being treated like pampered sons in law, there was no point yelling at this man who was perhaps a peon or counter clerk. The cynic in me says that this was perhaps deliberately done. A professor in our colony went with his wife to cast his vote. His name was missing while his wife a home maker was allowed to vote since her name figured in the list. Another friend, a school teacher looked up my name wherever she went and I checked on hers. Neither of us could locate our names.
Tell me am I wrong in calling the election process a farce and waste of time?
Friday, April 17, 2009
Where are we heading?? what is our goal?
I was terribly upset by two incidents reported by news channels/papers and found it difficult to come to terms with the fact that such incidents do take place in the 21st century and we have no scope for speedy justice with the judiciary being what it is.
The first incident is about the death of an 11 year old girl who was mercilessly punished by her teacher for failing to recite her english alphabets. The girl was beaten and made to stand in the sun for nearly two hours. She fainted and it was her younger sister who informed her parents who took her to the hospital in a critical condition and the girl slipped into a coma and finally died.
I strongly feel that the government should have some kind of check on granting affiliation to schools. These days schools have become business centres and while government school teachers are paid well they have no accountability and private school pay so badly that those who are recruited in them feel exploited. Their frustration is transferred to an innocent child. Very often people who teach in prestigious schools are mainly interested in giving private tuitions to students from affluent families and those in government schools have reached there by greasing palms. Both groups cannot be expected to do justice to the profession. How else do we explain the brutal punishment meted out to this particular student? The girl was 11 years old and was studying in std II. For all we know she might have had some kind of learning disability or other health problems and needed special care and attention. Well I can go on and on.
The second incidence is about a gang rape in Mumbai. An American student studying in Mumbai's TISS was gangraped by 6 boys known to her batch mate and she herself reported the incidence to the police some three days after it took place once she was in a position to do so. Three of the culprits were from a reputed school in Jamshedpur who were pursuing their higher studies in Mumbai. Jamshedpur being a small town we seem to know everyone either directly or indirectly and my heart goes out to the mothers of these boys who placed absolute trust in their sons while sending them out of town to study. I don't want to go into the reasons. It is easy to blame the girl. The act cannot be justified in any way. But a for boy barely in his early twenties to be part of the crime perhaps also means an end of a bright career even before it took off. The girl is bound to remain traumatized for a long long time. Who takes the blame and how much of it? Parents? The culprits? The victim? Is society as a whole which fails to give the right kind of sex education to our youngsters? There is a need to analyze the problem from all possible angles. This could happen to any of the youngsters who would soon take their place in society.
Shiv Khera is known for his famous statement-
"If you are not part of the solution then you are a part of the problem".
Do we want to be part of the problem or of the solution? The time has come to make a choice. We cannot escape responsibility. The next victim could be one of your own family for all you know.
The first incident is about the death of an 11 year old girl who was mercilessly punished by her teacher for failing to recite her english alphabets. The girl was beaten and made to stand in the sun for nearly two hours. She fainted and it was her younger sister who informed her parents who took her to the hospital in a critical condition and the girl slipped into a coma and finally died.
I strongly feel that the government should have some kind of check on granting affiliation to schools. These days schools have become business centres and while government school teachers are paid well they have no accountability and private school pay so badly that those who are recruited in them feel exploited. Their frustration is transferred to an innocent child. Very often people who teach in prestigious schools are mainly interested in giving private tuitions to students from affluent families and those in government schools have reached there by greasing palms. Both groups cannot be expected to do justice to the profession. How else do we explain the brutal punishment meted out to this particular student? The girl was 11 years old and was studying in std II. For all we know she might have had some kind of learning disability or other health problems and needed special care and attention. Well I can go on and on.
The second incidence is about a gang rape in Mumbai. An American student studying in Mumbai's TISS was gangraped by 6 boys known to her batch mate and she herself reported the incidence to the police some three days after it took place once she was in a position to do so. Three of the culprits were from a reputed school in Jamshedpur who were pursuing their higher studies in Mumbai. Jamshedpur being a small town we seem to know everyone either directly or indirectly and my heart goes out to the mothers of these boys who placed absolute trust in their sons while sending them out of town to study. I don't want to go into the reasons. It is easy to blame the girl. The act cannot be justified in any way. But a for boy barely in his early twenties to be part of the crime perhaps also means an end of a bright career even before it took off. The girl is bound to remain traumatized for a long long time. Who takes the blame and how much of it? Parents? The culprits? The victim? Is society as a whole which fails to give the right kind of sex education to our youngsters? There is a need to analyze the problem from all possible angles. This could happen to any of the youngsters who would soon take their place in society.
Shiv Khera is known for his famous statement-
"If you are not part of the solution then you are a part of the problem".
Do we want to be part of the problem or of the solution? The time has come to make a choice. We cannot escape responsibility. The next victim could be one of your own family for all you know.
Thursday, April 16, 2009
More Gup shap
I had earlier written a post on how inanimate objects behave as if they have a mind of their own. The power supply goes of just when a news of national importance is being flashed on TV and the gas cylinder has to be replaced when one is winding up cooking and just the seasoning bit is left and the list goes on. Suddenly I realize that animate objects become inanimate whenever it suits them and that is even more frustrating.
Take for example the head of the family who is sitting in the drawing room, newspaper in hand. No, I don't mean just my husband my father in law was no better. The door bell rings and the onus of opening the door and answering the call invariably falls on the lady slogging it out in the kitchen. She has to remember to switch off the gas or else the milk will spill over, she has to keep the knife out of reach or the brat will invariably cut himself with it and yet the newspaper reader is as good as the sofa he sits on. He just does not hear the bell.
The child has decided to be difficult. He refuses food, won't listen to a story and insists on being carried around. The father becomes selectively deaf. He can watch a cricket match, follow election analysis in 3 different channels but the child's tantrums do not affect him. You have no option but to dump the child on his lap and the brat becomes quiet and manageable.
The telephone rings and it is only the mother who has to pick it up. The grown up son/daughter have their own mobiles to receive personal calls and the husband seems to have lost the ability to walk. "The phone is ringing" he announces, but will not pick it up. As if all land line calls are only meant for the wife/mother.
Visitors have arrived. The children mumble a hurried 'namaste' and retreat to their rooms or better still go out as if they have some important work to do. The husband has only a half hearted smile to offer and the job of entertaining them, enquiring after their ailing grandfather/their children's entrance exams/their thrice removed cousin's marriage preparation.......well you are supposed to remember so many things and your better half keeps changing channels and watching TV. You go to the kitchen to prepare tea and either invite the visitor into the kitchen or continue the conversation from there since all others have become selectively dumb. Glaring at the husband will not help. He can look into your eyes and not 'see' anything. Point it out to them later and pat comes the reply.
"You were doing all the talking. There was nothing for me to say."
The very same children can talk for hours on the phone with their friends and the conversation has to turn to politics or cricket/football and just see how animated your husband becomes.
Multi - tasking seems to come naturally to women. Or is it perhaps forced on them and is acquired over time? I, for one, feel that men have it easy. At least I know of one man who does. Or is it that their priorities differ?
I have a lot of freedom. I sometimes I wish that I had less of it because decision making also means taking responsibility when things go wrong. I have seen women who will remain in the background out of choice and they seem to be better off. Or are they? My friend Prema for instance is handicapped but is still a pillar of strength to her husband. It is perhaps this very quality that is sustaining her. I cannot imagine her being different. Her in laws say that they remain in touch with the brother only because of her. This may be a bit of an exaggeration. But it also emphasizes on her role in running the show.
I meant to write a light post but this is becoming serious. I really want some inputs from the male perspective. But perhaps these are not issues to men at all. Like my husband would say-
"Yes, I was watching TV when so and so came. So what?? What is your problem about it? The programme was interesting and they would have watched it with me were it not for you." How's that? All my raving and ranting goes waste. Too bad isn't it?
Take for example the head of the family who is sitting in the drawing room, newspaper in hand. No, I don't mean just my husband my father in law was no better. The door bell rings and the onus of opening the door and answering the call invariably falls on the lady slogging it out in the kitchen. She has to remember to switch off the gas or else the milk will spill over, she has to keep the knife out of reach or the brat will invariably cut himself with it and yet the newspaper reader is as good as the sofa he sits on. He just does not hear the bell.
The child has decided to be difficult. He refuses food, won't listen to a story and insists on being carried around. The father becomes selectively deaf. He can watch a cricket match, follow election analysis in 3 different channels but the child's tantrums do not affect him. You have no option but to dump the child on his lap and the brat becomes quiet and manageable.
The telephone rings and it is only the mother who has to pick it up. The grown up son/daughter have their own mobiles to receive personal calls and the husband seems to have lost the ability to walk. "The phone is ringing" he announces, but will not pick it up. As if all land line calls are only meant for the wife/mother.
Visitors have arrived. The children mumble a hurried 'namaste' and retreat to their rooms or better still go out as if they have some important work to do. The husband has only a half hearted smile to offer and the job of entertaining them, enquiring after their ailing grandfather/their children's entrance exams/their thrice removed cousin's marriage preparation.......well you are supposed to remember so many things and your better half keeps changing channels and watching TV. You go to the kitchen to prepare tea and either invite the visitor into the kitchen or continue the conversation from there since all others have become selectively dumb. Glaring at the husband will not help. He can look into your eyes and not 'see' anything. Point it out to them later and pat comes the reply.
"You were doing all the talking. There was nothing for me to say."
The very same children can talk for hours on the phone with their friends and the conversation has to turn to politics or cricket/football and just see how animated your husband becomes.
Multi - tasking seems to come naturally to women. Or is it perhaps forced on them and is acquired over time? I, for one, feel that men have it easy. At least I know of one man who does. Or is it that their priorities differ?
I have a lot of freedom. I sometimes I wish that I had less of it because decision making also means taking responsibility when things go wrong. I have seen women who will remain in the background out of choice and they seem to be better off. Or are they? My friend Prema for instance is handicapped but is still a pillar of strength to her husband. It is perhaps this very quality that is sustaining her. I cannot imagine her being different. Her in laws say that they remain in touch with the brother only because of her. This may be a bit of an exaggeration. But it also emphasizes on her role in running the show.
I meant to write a light post but this is becoming serious. I really want some inputs from the male perspective. But perhaps these are not issues to men at all. Like my husband would say-
"Yes, I was watching TV when so and so came. So what?? What is your problem about it? The programme was interesting and they would have watched it with me were it not for you." How's that? All my raving and ranting goes waste. Too bad isn't it?
Saturday, April 04, 2009
Celebrating Ram Navami.
Ram Navami was celebrated all over India and to my mind it appears that a kind of competitiveness has taken over and genuine devotion has taken a back seat. No, please don't misunderstand me. I don't question the spirit behind the celebration of festivals. But I do not understand why there have to be 5 pandals, each blaring a different devotional song, in a two kilometer stretch that I cover as part of my morning walk? Two such sites were on opposite sides of a busy intersection and honking motorcycles and cars raised the noise levels and pedestrians continued to cross the road oblivious to commuters on motorized vehicles. What is the purpose being served I wonder? Long ago as a school girl I read somewhere that festivals are actually social events and a poor man's method of enjoying the day. He forgets his woes and takes his children out, buys them an article or two as per his affordability and the family roams around enjoying the music that invariably accompanies such gatherings. This made sense if the participants were farm labourers who toiled hard all through the year and a whole village got together to relax and celebrate the day in a single temple. So much the better if the poorer sections of society were treated to good food in the form of a wholesome meal cooked in hygenic conditions. May be I am getting old and cynical but I find something missing in the way pujas are organized these days. It looks as if there is a pressing need to prove a point.
Lord Ram was a devoted son who spent 14 years in the forest to honour his father's commitment to his step mother. To my old fashioned mind it appears as if the best and only way to express one's devotion to Lord Ram whether as a deity or a noble King would be show concern for the elders in our family and others in our neighborhood. We have old people leading lonely lives with children having flown the nest. Why not spend an evening with them listening to soft music and relishing some wholesome, healthy food and generally making them feel useful and wanted? Why can't brothers live like Ram and Lakshman instead of fighting over who would look after their parents and for how long?
I often say that if a son or daughter is strong enough to say that these are my parents and I am going to provide them a peaceful life in their old age, their spouse and children would soon soon follow. They may not be happy doing it initially but will ultimately get used to it. Very often people disagree with me and say that several parents are dominating and demanding. The onus of explaining the situation to parents also falls on the son/daughter. Rare is the parent who does not understand the son/daughter's plight.
So while wishing all of you a 'Happy Ram Navami' though belated, let me pledge that I would celebrate the day serving/attending to those in need, preferably senior citizens so that their children working in distant places may lead their lives in peace.
My own mother was born on Janmashtami and passed away on Ram Navami day. She was on dialysis toward the end of her life. I was able to pay my respect to her memory on Ram Navami by spending sometime with a friend who is also on dialysis following kidney failure. I pray for her speedy recovery for her own sake and for the sake of the wonderful children that God has blessed her with.
Lord Ram was a devoted son who spent 14 years in the forest to honour his father's commitment to his step mother. To my old fashioned mind it appears as if the best and only way to express one's devotion to Lord Ram whether as a deity or a noble King would be show concern for the elders in our family and others in our neighborhood. We have old people leading lonely lives with children having flown the nest. Why not spend an evening with them listening to soft music and relishing some wholesome, healthy food and generally making them feel useful and wanted? Why can't brothers live like Ram and Lakshman instead of fighting over who would look after their parents and for how long?
I often say that if a son or daughter is strong enough to say that these are my parents and I am going to provide them a peaceful life in their old age, their spouse and children would soon soon follow. They may not be happy doing it initially but will ultimately get used to it. Very often people disagree with me and say that several parents are dominating and demanding. The onus of explaining the situation to parents also falls on the son/daughter. Rare is the parent who does not understand the son/daughter's plight.
So while wishing all of you a 'Happy Ram Navami' though belated, let me pledge that I would celebrate the day serving/attending to those in need, preferably senior citizens so that their children working in distant places may lead their lives in peace.
My own mother was born on Janmashtami and passed away on Ram Navami day. She was on dialysis toward the end of her life. I was able to pay my respect to her memory on Ram Navami by spending sometime with a friend who is also on dialysis following kidney failure. I pray for her speedy recovery for her own sake and for the sake of the wonderful children that God has blessed her with.
Tuesday, March 31, 2009
Memories........... a whole lot of them!
I think I've taken a long enough break and can start writing again. The past 6 weeks have been as hectic as enjoyable. Grandson Kapil was seen running all over the house and we wondered whether he ever walked. Literally on his toes as one would say. I truly thought of ITW and wondered how she coped with twin boys. My grandkids born two years apart need to be watched all the time and though the daughter who is older has calmed down, she can be upto all sorts of pranks when in her younger brother's company! I relived the time when my children were small and returning to an empty house after saying goodbye to them at Madurai was painful.
I tend to be sentimental after my children visit me. But I could not help comparing their visits to our own to my grandfather's place in Gobichettipalayam. those were days when we ran wild. My grandfather was a patient man. No rules were imposed and we ate and played to our heart's content. Those were days without TV and a movie at a local theatre was a treat for us kids. We'd hire a bullock cart and to maintain balance we'd sit in two rows facing each other.The youngest among us would sit at the rear end, feet dangling outside. I remember sleeping off in the theatre once and being woken up after the movie got over. We had a room allotted for the ripening of mangoes. Hay was spread out on the floor and half ripe mangoes would be placed on it. We'd get a mango each after lunch and dinner. Our competition would be to see who finished last and I inevitably won being a slow eater.
We took turns to bathe in the bathroom and who bathed first was a major contraversy. We'd line up in front of the bathroom towel and change of clothes in hand. We'd let in a favorite cousin through a side door after bathing, n ever mind if at least four others waited in front of the main door!
Then there are memories of my grandfather plucking flowers while chanting Vishnu Sahastranamam and one of us running to a store nearby to fetch plantains of a particular variety to be offered during the evening prayers. Whatever work one did, we always assembled in the pooja room when camphor was lit and the bell starting ringing announcing the end of the prayer session.
There are memories of the board games we played and the quarrels that followed with each one accusing the others of foul play and finally the ghost stories/stories that were oft repeated but we never ever got bored of listening over and over again. Finally we slept huddled up in the hall that doubled up for a bedroom at night. we formed groups according to our age and had many a secret to share and we spoke in whispers till our mothers admonished us and we rolled over on the floor finally drifting off to sleep.
I often wonder whether my grandkids would ever have such memories of their vacations at my place. They are too small now but will they at a later stage look forward to visiting us the way we did? Times have changed and it is no longer safe to let children run wild. Health is a major concern and mineral water replaces water from the well and computer games have taken over from games like 'hide and seek' and hop scotch. I'd be disappointed if my grandkids did not find their vacations to India interesting something to look forward to. There is one thing that hasn't changed and that is chilhood. So perhaps there is no need to fret. They may find different reasons to want to come to us but they will look forward to it all the same.
I tend to be sentimental after my children visit me. But I could not help comparing their visits to our own to my grandfather's place in Gobichettipalayam. those were days when we ran wild. My grandfather was a patient man. No rules were imposed and we ate and played to our heart's content. Those were days without TV and a movie at a local theatre was a treat for us kids. We'd hire a bullock cart and to maintain balance we'd sit in two rows facing each other.The youngest among us would sit at the rear end, feet dangling outside. I remember sleeping off in the theatre once and being woken up after the movie got over. We had a room allotted for the ripening of mangoes. Hay was spread out on the floor and half ripe mangoes would be placed on it. We'd get a mango each after lunch and dinner. Our competition would be to see who finished last and I inevitably won being a slow eater.
We took turns to bathe in the bathroom and who bathed first was a major contraversy. We'd line up in front of the bathroom towel and change of clothes in hand. We'd let in a favorite cousin through a side door after bathing, n ever mind if at least four others waited in front of the main door!
Then there are memories of my grandfather plucking flowers while chanting Vishnu Sahastranamam and one of us running to a store nearby to fetch plantains of a particular variety to be offered during the evening prayers. Whatever work one did, we always assembled in the pooja room when camphor was lit and the bell starting ringing announcing the end of the prayer session.
There are memories of the board games we played and the quarrels that followed with each one accusing the others of foul play and finally the ghost stories/stories that were oft repeated but we never ever got bored of listening over and over again. Finally we slept huddled up in the hall that doubled up for a bedroom at night. we formed groups according to our age and had many a secret to share and we spoke in whispers till our mothers admonished us and we rolled over on the floor finally drifting off to sleep.
I often wonder whether my grandkids would ever have such memories of their vacations at my place. They are too small now but will they at a later stage look forward to visiting us the way we did? Times have changed and it is no longer safe to let children run wild. Health is a major concern and mineral water replaces water from the well and computer games have taken over from games like 'hide and seek' and hop scotch. I'd be disappointed if my grandkids did not find their vacations to India interesting something to look forward to. There is one thing that hasn't changed and that is chilhood. So perhaps there is no need to fret. They may find different reasons to want to come to us but they will look forward to it all the same.
Friday, February 20, 2009
Hi all,
taking a break from my blogworld since I expect to be busy for the next few weeks.Daughter no.2 and my son are expected to be in India in the next couple of weeks and so my time is to be devoted to every moment with my children and grandchildren.And I also have a confession to make. Without any expectation of inputs from you on my posts I am just going to read and enjoy each one of your writings.So i'll be in touch through my comments on your posts.Enjoy the good weather that spring brings with it.The scorching summer is bound to transform me into a sleepy crocodile and may be I'll post something then if my mind and body support me.So goodbye for now.See you soon.
taking a break from my blogworld since I expect to be busy for the next few weeks.Daughter no.2 and my son are expected to be in India in the next couple of weeks and so my time is to be devoted to every moment with my children and grandchildren.And I also have a confession to make. Without any expectation of inputs from you on my posts I am just going to read and enjoy each one of your writings.So i'll be in touch through my comments on your posts.Enjoy the good weather that spring brings with it.The scorching summer is bound to transform me into a sleepy crocodile and may be I'll post something then if my mind and body support me.So goodbye for now.See you soon.
Sunday, February 15, 2009
Scientific application?
We recently had a debate in college on “the study of science leads to better career opportunities” and our students spoke for and against the motion. The usual arguments about the tried and tested professions of doctors and engineers needing a science background, and Mathematics and Statistics having entered every field of importance the view that the study of science was important for a fruitful career was endorsed by many. I have been a science student all along and it is but natural that I too support this view. Even otherwise plumbing, masonry, a technician in the pathological lab all need to know basic science even if they discontinue at a later stage. So even if one does not aspire to become an astronaut knowledge of basic science is of help in any career. The scientific temperament of logically analyzing a situation and managerial skills of making maximum use of available resources are useful not only for a career but also to run a family. But why then is the study of science taking a back seat and why do we not have good science teachers any more? The motivation to study science is diminishing by the day and it pains me to see science being studied and taught in the most unscientific manner in our schools and colleges.
As a student of class six I was excited when I verified the upward thrust of air pressure through a simple experiment. I had the time to take a cigarette tin, punch a single hole on top and several hole in the bottom, fill it with water and demonstrate to my younger sister that blocking the hole on top prevents water from flowing out from the bottom holes. I remember learning the Botanical names of ladies finger and sweet potato and using them to baffle my mother when I came home on vacation. We had fun at the expense of our friend, a simpleton, by giving her an unidentified plant material and telling her that it was called Roadorum sidorum which literally meant road side in Tamil and she was naïve enough to believe us. During my preparation for my M. Sc. Exams I was so much into it that my husband knew the answers to the oft discussed topics and my son who was in standard two was able to draw the chemical structure of Gibberalin, a plant growth hormone, of course without understanding it. Today we have students who have to be literally coaxed or threatened to contribute to the science day celebrations that are going on in our college.
“We’re having a seminar on Global Warming” I’d announce “I’ll be taking attendance after that. I want each one of you to be there.”
Or, “How many of you have given your names for the science quiz? If I see you contributing towards the program in some way or other I’ll sign your record work. Those who don’t can submit your record work without my signature in the examination.”
I am not happy doing this but this is the only way to get students to participate. Twenty years have gone by since I completed my post graduation and students have changed their attitude and approach beyond recognition. Of course it is unfortunate that the best and the next best group have left Jharkhand for places like Delhi, Chennai, Bangalore and Maharashtra. Even middle class families are paying through their nose to see to it that their wards get good education. A career for their children is a must these days and there is nothing wrong in it. Entrance exams are a nightmare and a sixteen year old kid cannot afford to enjoy the process of learning by experimentation the way I did. She/he has to attend coaching classes, complete assignments that he doesn’t even have time to deliberate upon and unless I threaten them of dire consequences my final year students would prefer to attend computer classes or MBA coaching centers and prepare for competitive exams rather than sit through a science seminar on ‘Global warming’. And do I have the right to find fault with them? They may not have gone outside Jamshedpur to study but they do want a good career for themselves like anyone else. The day is not far off when students would tell me to my face that they have better things to do and may complain to the student union that I was trying to threaten them, never mind what my intentions were. I think I must learn to retreat while there is time. Or we may soon have the brothers shouting slogans against teachers like me.
Under the circumstances is it any wonder that a career that fetches a good pay packet is the only career that interests students? The good ones will not work as teachers in private school so those that come from school do not have a strong base. Entrance exams are a series of ticks and crosses and in depth studies are outmoded.
A group of three students would attend only practical classes and skip theory. They were brilliant in their own way. I asked them how they would tackle final year portions in applied biology, genetics etc. Pat came the reply-
“We’ve covered all that in plus two and we have the notes”
The three not only passed out with a first division but also did their MBA from one of the best institutes in the country. It was then that I realized that they had set their priorities and worked towards it. The complex theories of inheritance do not interest since they were not keen on research work! I was perhaps able to enjoy an in depth study of my subject because I already had a comfortable job and did not have to answer entrance exams.
So I come back to the topic of my debate. A successful career needs an analytical mind and the right attitude. If science lays claim to these qualities – so be it. But I am afraid that these cannot be claimed by science alone. Diligence is required in all fields and proper application of knowledge is the key to success whether one is an officer in the bank, a professionally qualified person or a house maid/keeper.
As a student of class six I was excited when I verified the upward thrust of air pressure through a simple experiment. I had the time to take a cigarette tin, punch a single hole on top and several hole in the bottom, fill it with water and demonstrate to my younger sister that blocking the hole on top prevents water from flowing out from the bottom holes. I remember learning the Botanical names of ladies finger and sweet potato and using them to baffle my mother when I came home on vacation. We had fun at the expense of our friend, a simpleton, by giving her an unidentified plant material and telling her that it was called Roadorum sidorum which literally meant road side in Tamil and she was naïve enough to believe us. During my preparation for my M. Sc. Exams I was so much into it that my husband knew the answers to the oft discussed topics and my son who was in standard two was able to draw the chemical structure of Gibberalin, a plant growth hormone, of course without understanding it. Today we have students who have to be literally coaxed or threatened to contribute to the science day celebrations that are going on in our college.
“We’re having a seminar on Global Warming” I’d announce “I’ll be taking attendance after that. I want each one of you to be there.”
Or, “How many of you have given your names for the science quiz? If I see you contributing towards the program in some way or other I’ll sign your record work. Those who don’t can submit your record work without my signature in the examination.”
I am not happy doing this but this is the only way to get students to participate. Twenty years have gone by since I completed my post graduation and students have changed their attitude and approach beyond recognition. Of course it is unfortunate that the best and the next best group have left Jharkhand for places like Delhi, Chennai, Bangalore and Maharashtra. Even middle class families are paying through their nose to see to it that their wards get good education. A career for their children is a must these days and there is nothing wrong in it. Entrance exams are a nightmare and a sixteen year old kid cannot afford to enjoy the process of learning by experimentation the way I did. She/he has to attend coaching classes, complete assignments that he doesn’t even have time to deliberate upon and unless I threaten them of dire consequences my final year students would prefer to attend computer classes or MBA coaching centers and prepare for competitive exams rather than sit through a science seminar on ‘Global warming’. And do I have the right to find fault with them? They may not have gone outside Jamshedpur to study but they do want a good career for themselves like anyone else. The day is not far off when students would tell me to my face that they have better things to do and may complain to the student union that I was trying to threaten them, never mind what my intentions were. I think I must learn to retreat while there is time. Or we may soon have the brothers shouting slogans against teachers like me.
Under the circumstances is it any wonder that a career that fetches a good pay packet is the only career that interests students? The good ones will not work as teachers in private school so those that come from school do not have a strong base. Entrance exams are a series of ticks and crosses and in depth studies are outmoded.
A group of three students would attend only practical classes and skip theory. They were brilliant in their own way. I asked them how they would tackle final year portions in applied biology, genetics etc. Pat came the reply-
“We’ve covered all that in plus two and we have the notes”
The three not only passed out with a first division but also did their MBA from one of the best institutes in the country. It was then that I realized that they had set their priorities and worked towards it. The complex theories of inheritance do not interest since they were not keen on research work! I was perhaps able to enjoy an in depth study of my subject because I already had a comfortable job and did not have to answer entrance exams.
So I come back to the topic of my debate. A successful career needs an analytical mind and the right attitude. If science lays claim to these qualities – so be it. But I am afraid that these cannot be claimed by science alone. Diligence is required in all fields and proper application of knowledge is the key to success whether one is an officer in the bank, a professionally qualified person or a house maid/keeper.
Wednesday, February 11, 2009
Awards and More Awards!
I had been given this award by Renu long back but something or the other kept cropping up and i could acknowledge it only now. thank you Renu and I see you've uploaded your photograph so I seem to know you better now.This award is awarded for "acknowledging the values that every blogger shows in his/her effort to transmit cultural, ethical, literary and personal values every day."
It is wonderful to be recognized in such a manner and what can I say in return?I am indeed overwhelmed and touched.
Now to more awards-
I have been awarded by oorjas not once or twice but thrice. That was wonderful and thank you so much for it oorjas. And congratulations to you too. to be awarded thrice within 2 months of starting your blog speaks volumes of your writing skills and you do write well. my best wishes for many more to come your way.
I pass on these award to all my wonderful readers who have pampered and patronized me. They've shown concern when I was ill and felt frustrated when I did not get my dues. My dear readers, these awards actually belong to each one of you. After all where would I be were it not for you?Please claim what is rightfully your's.
Monday, February 09, 2009
A story that impressed me
This is a rough translation of an interesting story I read in a Tamil magazine a few years back. It must have impressed me a lot for me to remember it even now.
An old man had let out a part of his house in the suburbs of Chennai to a middle aged couple with a teen aged son. He had a son who was well settled, leading a busy life, living in a posh upper class locality of Central Chennai. It was evident to the tenants that the relationship between the old man and his son was cordial but rather aloof and the old man never seemed very comfortable during the son’s monthly visits which were regular but formal affairs. The daughter in law and his only grand daughter also accompanied the son more out of a sense of duty than genuine affection. The old man put down his son’s behavior to the formative years the son spent in boarding schools and hostels since he himself had a transferable job and was very often posted to areas that lacked good schools.
“I catered to his physical requirements but never to his emotional ones. He is doing the same to me. He was close to his mother but unfortunately she died early and he never bonded with me the way he could have. But he is a good boy and I have no complaints.” He’d often say. He’d go on to add that the tenant and his family were as good as his own. Their 14 year old son called him ‘thatha’ meaning grandpa and often went to him for help with his home work assignments. He dined with them on festive occasions, remembered their birthdays and anniversary and asked after their extended family who in turn had a kind word for him whenever they visited.
One day the old man suffers a stroke and has to be hospitalized. The couple who had by now grown very attached to him tried to contact his son who was holidaying abroad and took care of him till his arrival. The son arrived quickly enough and was very grateful to the couple for their help. He took charge of the situation and shifted the old man to a hospital near his house and arranged for an attendant to look after him.
The tenants continue with their busy lives when their son wonders aloud as to how ‘thatha’ may be faring. It is then that they realize that a week had gone by and they had not visited him in hospital. The hospital was far off but the trio undertake a tedious trip by local train to the nearest station and hire a taxi from there to the hospital. They feel relieved that his condition was stable when their son goes close enough to hear the old man mumble something.
“I have a table made of Burma teak. It is a spacious one and you would use it as your study table as a child. I got it specially made for you when you started school. The tenant’s son uses it these days. They are a cunning lot and may claim it to be theirs. You don’t get such good furniture these days and a table of that size would cost a fortune even if one makes it with some ordinary wood let alone teak wood. You must take time to go and fetch it for your daughter..……..”
The tenants are shocked. The old man continued to mumble something but it did not matter any more. They return even without waking the old man despite their son’s protests.
This story set me thinking. Parenting is often described as sacrifice. It is supposed be a forgiving experience. One tends to overlook the flaws of children and in spite of irresponsible behavior from them one always tries to defend them. But don’t we owe some kind of appreciation to those who stand by us in our time of need? Can we afford to be blind to the fact that neighbors who pitch in and help are not bound to do so but they do it out of genuine concern? In this story for instance it was alright for the old man to want to give the table to his grandkid. But was it necessary to imply that the couple were cunning and had an ulterior motive in taking care of him? With more and more children leaving ageing parents to deal with their old age is it not important for us to change our attitude?
An old man had let out a part of his house in the suburbs of Chennai to a middle aged couple with a teen aged son. He had a son who was well settled, leading a busy life, living in a posh upper class locality of Central Chennai. It was evident to the tenants that the relationship between the old man and his son was cordial but rather aloof and the old man never seemed very comfortable during the son’s monthly visits which were regular but formal affairs. The daughter in law and his only grand daughter also accompanied the son more out of a sense of duty than genuine affection. The old man put down his son’s behavior to the formative years the son spent in boarding schools and hostels since he himself had a transferable job and was very often posted to areas that lacked good schools.
“I catered to his physical requirements but never to his emotional ones. He is doing the same to me. He was close to his mother but unfortunately she died early and he never bonded with me the way he could have. But he is a good boy and I have no complaints.” He’d often say. He’d go on to add that the tenant and his family were as good as his own. Their 14 year old son called him ‘thatha’ meaning grandpa and often went to him for help with his home work assignments. He dined with them on festive occasions, remembered their birthdays and anniversary and asked after their extended family who in turn had a kind word for him whenever they visited.
One day the old man suffers a stroke and has to be hospitalized. The couple who had by now grown very attached to him tried to contact his son who was holidaying abroad and took care of him till his arrival. The son arrived quickly enough and was very grateful to the couple for their help. He took charge of the situation and shifted the old man to a hospital near his house and arranged for an attendant to look after him.
The tenants continue with their busy lives when their son wonders aloud as to how ‘thatha’ may be faring. It is then that they realize that a week had gone by and they had not visited him in hospital. The hospital was far off but the trio undertake a tedious trip by local train to the nearest station and hire a taxi from there to the hospital. They feel relieved that his condition was stable when their son goes close enough to hear the old man mumble something.
“I have a table made of Burma teak. It is a spacious one and you would use it as your study table as a child. I got it specially made for you when you started school. The tenant’s son uses it these days. They are a cunning lot and may claim it to be theirs. You don’t get such good furniture these days and a table of that size would cost a fortune even if one makes it with some ordinary wood let alone teak wood. You must take time to go and fetch it for your daughter..……..”
The tenants are shocked. The old man continued to mumble something but it did not matter any more. They return even without waking the old man despite their son’s protests.
This story set me thinking. Parenting is often described as sacrifice. It is supposed be a forgiving experience. One tends to overlook the flaws of children and in spite of irresponsible behavior from them one always tries to defend them. But don’t we owe some kind of appreciation to those who stand by us in our time of need? Can we afford to be blind to the fact that neighbors who pitch in and help are not bound to do so but they do it out of genuine concern? In this story for instance it was alright for the old man to want to give the table to his grandkid. But was it necessary to imply that the couple were cunning and had an ulterior motive in taking care of him? With more and more children leaving ageing parents to deal with their old age is it not important for us to change our attitude?
Thursday, January 29, 2009
Gup shap -5
It is long since I wrote anything on my blog. Well I’ve been a little busy, a little unwell and a lot lazy. My daughter visited us briefly in the first week of January and it was fun having my grand daughters with me to celebrate Pongal. College problems persisted and we were once again busy fighting for our dues from the government. The 6th pay recommendations are due from 2006 but we continue to bicker for the implementation of the 5th pay commission’s recommendations. When it does get implemented we find that our fixation is all wrong and we actually stand to lose money instead of gaining by it. All we could do was to request that our old scale be continued till it is rectified. Whoever says that India is shining, is an optimist. Unfortunately I am not. India can never shine if those entrusted with higher education are given step motherly treatment by the government. Why would anyone want to take up teaching as a career option if teacher’s have to fight for their rights and the non teaching staff are reminded that their services hold no value to the powers that run the country?
Now that was not what I wanted to write about in a come back post. So let me write about my health. I am a really sweet person you know? That is perhaps why my blood sugar remains high even after a breakfast of 2 biscuits and a glass of sugar free coffee. My doctor promptly increased my medicine and has asked me to have a battery of tests done after 15 days of trial. In the meantime I have to deal with a frozen shoulder and spondilitis. Serves me right for ignoring my shoulders!
Why my shoulder chose to freeze is beyond my understanding. May be I ignored it for too long and took it for granted. Just as a wife’s role in a household. I valued my arms but ignored the shoulder that supported them. The condition is horrible. Being vertically challenged (Should I say handicapped) I stand short with about 2/3 of the blackboard above my head. I manage to reach about 3/4 of the board with my stretched hands when my shoulder co-operates. Now I only reach till the level of my nose or my eye if I put up with a little pain and my students give me strange looks. I seem to want to scratch my back more often these days and my hands just don’t take orders from me. I try doing something simple as taking out a bottle from my kitchen shelf and the pain that follows drives me to tears. To add to my woes my doctor asks me to wait for a whole year before approaching him again. He has suggested exercises and I’d look crazy doing them. Like I have to place my palm against the wall and crawl up the wall for as high as I can manage and bring it down in slow motion. Hold on to a railing or grill till the level of about a half a foot above my head and move away till my hand hurts. If you treat the shoulders with care and respect the pain is tolerable at times and almost non existent at other times. But try ignoring it, the pain returns with a vengeance so what if it is the middle of the night and one is enjoying a sweet dream.
What next I wonder? Will my hip clamor for attention too? After all they support my feet and need to be taken care of. Till I fell victim I had not heard of a frozen shoulder. Now several others share their experiences. Like the gentleman whose right and left shoulders froze at the same time. I promptly thanked my shoulders for taking turns to freeze. Yes this is the second time this is happening. Way back in 2001 it was the other shoulder that froze. In my confusion I forgot that it was my right shoulder that froze earlier and it is my left that is creating trouble now. The blackboard agony has now been replaced by my need to change gears while driving. When I change gears I try to be as careful and slow as possible and once the job is done I almost thank my shoulder for being kind and considerate.
This is no laughing matter I assure you. Every finger and every toe is important so are the heart that cannot afford to miss a beat or the lung, liver as well as each and every organ in the body. We take life too much for granted and it took a frozen shoulder to help me realize its worth and value. Wishing each one of you health and happiness.
Now that was not what I wanted to write about in a come back post. So let me write about my health. I am a really sweet person you know? That is perhaps why my blood sugar remains high even after a breakfast of 2 biscuits and a glass of sugar free coffee. My doctor promptly increased my medicine and has asked me to have a battery of tests done after 15 days of trial. In the meantime I have to deal with a frozen shoulder and spondilitis. Serves me right for ignoring my shoulders!
Why my shoulder chose to freeze is beyond my understanding. May be I ignored it for too long and took it for granted. Just as a wife’s role in a household. I valued my arms but ignored the shoulder that supported them. The condition is horrible. Being vertically challenged (Should I say handicapped) I stand short with about 2/3 of the blackboard above my head. I manage to reach about 3/4 of the board with my stretched hands when my shoulder co-operates. Now I only reach till the level of my nose or my eye if I put up with a little pain and my students give me strange looks. I seem to want to scratch my back more often these days and my hands just don’t take orders from me. I try doing something simple as taking out a bottle from my kitchen shelf and the pain that follows drives me to tears. To add to my woes my doctor asks me to wait for a whole year before approaching him again. He has suggested exercises and I’d look crazy doing them. Like I have to place my palm against the wall and crawl up the wall for as high as I can manage and bring it down in slow motion. Hold on to a railing or grill till the level of about a half a foot above my head and move away till my hand hurts. If you treat the shoulders with care and respect the pain is tolerable at times and almost non existent at other times. But try ignoring it, the pain returns with a vengeance so what if it is the middle of the night and one is enjoying a sweet dream.
What next I wonder? Will my hip clamor for attention too? After all they support my feet and need to be taken care of. Till I fell victim I had not heard of a frozen shoulder. Now several others share their experiences. Like the gentleman whose right and left shoulders froze at the same time. I promptly thanked my shoulders for taking turns to freeze. Yes this is the second time this is happening. Way back in 2001 it was the other shoulder that froze. In my confusion I forgot that it was my right shoulder that froze earlier and it is my left that is creating trouble now. The blackboard agony has now been replaced by my need to change gears while driving. When I change gears I try to be as careful and slow as possible and once the job is done I almost thank my shoulder for being kind and considerate.
This is no laughing matter I assure you. Every finger and every toe is important so are the heart that cannot afford to miss a beat or the lung, liver as well as each and every organ in the body. We take life too much for granted and it took a frozen shoulder to help me realize its worth and value. Wishing each one of you health and happiness.
Sunday, January 04, 2009
Heartfelt........-2
Mr.S has been our neighbor since 1993. Their son S was in his early teens when they shifted to our complex. My son and S played together. Their daughter might've been around 10 years then. So when I was told that S was seen meddling with my scooty I felt that I was justified in asking him not to do it since I was rather out of touch and was driving a two wheeler after a gap of 6 years and did not want any problem on my way to and from the college. I went to their flat and said this the same way I'd have told Rahul.
"Tell me who has been filling your ears" the boy bellowed. "I'll teach them a lesson. Come on tell me."
I was shocked not expecting such a reaction. I flatly refused to name anyone. It was the father who pitched in on behalf of his son.
"You cannot do this Mrs.R" he said. "People keep accusing my son of things he doesn't do. You will have to give us the person's name."
"That's fine" I said, "If he hadn't meddled with my scooty he only has to say so. There is no reason for me to disbelieve him."
"That doesn't end the matter" said the mother. "You came here only after hearing from someone that my son meddled with your scooty. You can't go away without giving us the name."
Their daughter also joined the group and the whole family took turns to scream at me and my husband came out to see what was happening. He was shocked to see me involved in a controversy. He hadn't expected it and he could not make head or tail of what was being said.
"Get back home immediately." he said.
Turning to Mr. S he said "I am sorry and apologize on behalf of my wife. Had she told me this earlier I would not have let her approach you with her complaint."
Turning to the son he said "I know that you would not have done anything of the sort. You're a good boy."
When my husband gets angry he can be mercilessly sarcastic and his message to the family was very clear.
"I was only trying to tell them........" I persisted.
"Never mind what you were trying to tell them. Try telling me when you get home. May be I'd understand. Come on let's go."
I went home and for the next half an hour the boy screamed as if he had gone berserk and his parents could not control him. Neighbors intervened and finally all was quiet. I thought that the matter was over.
Actually it wasn't over but I'd rather not go into it since that was not the purpose of this post. I keep wondering how far is a parent responsible for the way his ward turns out to be. If my children have grown up to be normal human beings am I allowed to take credit? Or am I just lucky? The question of 'Nature' versus 'Nurture' keeps coming to my mind and what role do these play in shaping a person's character? And what about the company one keeps.
I truly have nothing against the boy mentioned in this post but I tend to keep away from him. Am I wrong in doing so? As a neighbor it is easy for me to do so. His parents cannot do it. I cannot bring myself to reach out to him after the incident. The parents are a troubled lot and tho' more than 8 years have lapsed, the boy's behavior, that I had put down to teen trouble and adoloscent age, has not changed. Since most of the neighbors ignore him he tends to vent his frustration on his parents. Luckily his sister has turned out to be a responsible girl and has taken up a job.
Long back I read a book that left an impact in my mind. I'm afraid I don't remember the name of the book or its author. the story was about a doctor who was leading a normal life till her teenaged son gets upset with his girl friend and in a fit of uncontollable rage smashes her head leading to her death. The boys reaction is one of withdrawal from his family and friends, refusal to open up even to his mother who wants to arrange for counselling and his being sent to a correction home. It was a touching story, very well written and I found myself thinking that this could happen to anyone. His stubborn silence is traumatic to his mother who wants to tell him that she wanted to see him through this tragic event in his life, that her love for him had not diminished even a bit and that she still had faith that he would be a wonderful human being. Finally the story ends with the son acknowledging his mother's love and the readers feel relieved that there is hope for the boy. One just does not feel judgemental but rather feels sorry that such a thing should have ever happened in the boy's life.
Parents of teenaged children please don't let your love for your child make you turn a blind eye to their faults. I've known mothers encouraging their sons to gamble and look for short cuts to earn money. I've seen parents using their connections to see to it that their child tops his/her batch. They are in fact ruining the child's future for a moment's glory. Help them build a career but more importanly help them build their character - you owe it to them as well as society.
"Tell me who has been filling your ears" the boy bellowed. "I'll teach them a lesson. Come on tell me."
I was shocked not expecting such a reaction. I flatly refused to name anyone. It was the father who pitched in on behalf of his son.
"You cannot do this Mrs.R" he said. "People keep accusing my son of things he doesn't do. You will have to give us the person's name."
"That's fine" I said, "If he hadn't meddled with my scooty he only has to say so. There is no reason for me to disbelieve him."
"That doesn't end the matter" said the mother. "You came here only after hearing from someone that my son meddled with your scooty. You can't go away without giving us the name."
Their daughter also joined the group and the whole family took turns to scream at me and my husband came out to see what was happening. He was shocked to see me involved in a controversy. He hadn't expected it and he could not make head or tail of what was being said.
"Get back home immediately." he said.
Turning to Mr. S he said "I am sorry and apologize on behalf of my wife. Had she told me this earlier I would not have let her approach you with her complaint."
Turning to the son he said "I know that you would not have done anything of the sort. You're a good boy."
When my husband gets angry he can be mercilessly sarcastic and his message to the family was very clear.
"I was only trying to tell them........" I persisted.
"Never mind what you were trying to tell them. Try telling me when you get home. May be I'd understand. Come on let's go."
I went home and for the next half an hour the boy screamed as if he had gone berserk and his parents could not control him. Neighbors intervened and finally all was quiet. I thought that the matter was over.
Actually it wasn't over but I'd rather not go into it since that was not the purpose of this post. I keep wondering how far is a parent responsible for the way his ward turns out to be. If my children have grown up to be normal human beings am I allowed to take credit? Or am I just lucky? The question of 'Nature' versus 'Nurture' keeps coming to my mind and what role do these play in shaping a person's character? And what about the company one keeps.
I truly have nothing against the boy mentioned in this post but I tend to keep away from him. Am I wrong in doing so? As a neighbor it is easy for me to do so. His parents cannot do it. I cannot bring myself to reach out to him after the incident. The parents are a troubled lot and tho' more than 8 years have lapsed, the boy's behavior, that I had put down to teen trouble and adoloscent age, has not changed. Since most of the neighbors ignore him he tends to vent his frustration on his parents. Luckily his sister has turned out to be a responsible girl and has taken up a job.
Long back I read a book that left an impact in my mind. I'm afraid I don't remember the name of the book or its author. the story was about a doctor who was leading a normal life till her teenaged son gets upset with his girl friend and in a fit of uncontollable rage smashes her head leading to her death. The boys reaction is one of withdrawal from his family and friends, refusal to open up even to his mother who wants to arrange for counselling and his being sent to a correction home. It was a touching story, very well written and I found myself thinking that this could happen to anyone. His stubborn silence is traumatic to his mother who wants to tell him that she wanted to see him through this tragic event in his life, that her love for him had not diminished even a bit and that she still had faith that he would be a wonderful human being. Finally the story ends with the son acknowledging his mother's love and the readers feel relieved that there is hope for the boy. One just does not feel judgemental but rather feels sorry that such a thing should have ever happened in the boy's life.
Parents of teenaged children please don't let your love for your child make you turn a blind eye to their faults. I've known mothers encouraging their sons to gamble and look for short cuts to earn money. I've seen parents using their connections to see to it that their child tops his/her batch. They are in fact ruining the child's future for a moment's glory. Help them build a career but more importanly help them build their character - you owe it to them as well as society.
Thursday, January 01, 2009
Awarded!!
Thanks Usha for this award. I feel honoured and touched at the same time. What a way to begin the year. I acknowledge and accept it hoping that more would certainly follow. Am I being selfish? Bear with me. Afterall it is New Year's day!!
This award is for “acknowledging the values that every blogger shows in his/her effort to transmit cultural, ethical, literary and personal values every day”.
I'd like to pass this to prats, monika, alapana and vishesh.
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