My mother, my mentor.

I really did not want to write anything on women’s day. It was quite depressing to learn of a college student being gunned down point blank and of a newly wed daughter in law running away with the valuables in her husband’s home both events taking place on 8^th March- the international women’s day. Why we get to hear of such extremes, I wonder. I mean according to Hating Women - a book by Rabbi Boteach “Together, men and women working can usher in a golden age of feminine awe and magic. Together, we can create a softer, gentler and brighter world illuminated with the light and warmth of the nurturer.” And I quite agree with this view. I don’t really subscribe to the view that since men have had the upper hand for centuries, we women need to get back by doing the very things that men did to prove their superiority. Women need to carry themselves with dignity and command respect.

Having said that I wish to give an example of a woman who inspired me. I don’t think she ever heard about women’s day and other such special days that one hears of these days. Yet to my mind she is one who is an inspiration not only to me but to all who have ever been associated with her.

She was visually challenged and had to drop out of school at the age of eight for fear of damaging whatever little vision she had. Initially it was not too bad. She continued to learn at home by listening to her younger sisters prepare for their examination. She would do some embroidery and tatting during her free time. Her father had tutors teach her English and Hindi and finally she married a doctor and left home. Her married life was not the best in the world – it had its ups and downs – and finally it came to an abrupt end with her husband’s untimely demise.

Then began the daunting task of raising two pre - school children and getting her daughters married. As far as she was concerned, her past was a closed chapter. It did not matter that her husband’s brothers chose to stay away from her life and were never available for guidance or advice. It did not matter that it was hard to plan for good education to her sons on the pension amount she received. But she did dream of a good career for them and hoped to marry off her daughters to men who would be responsible and hard working. In her own quiet way she did achieve what she wanted to. One never heard her complain about not having enough. One never heard her blame her stars for her fate or accuse her brothers in law of not being supportive. One could never understand if she ever longed to have a few more sarees in her wardrobe or if she ever wanted to replace her worn out gold chain with a new one if and when possible. She simply did not have time to waste on trivialities. Her sons grew up without knowing as to how her life as a doctor’s wife might have been. They had always known her to be a quiet and unassuming person who did not even have to raise her voice to discipline them. Her silence said it all. They would try their best to rise up to her expectation. It was this unassuming attitude that enabled her share the roof with her brother’s family till the daughters got married and the youngest of her sons took up a job after which she relocated to the place where her sons worked.

She was more than adequately rewarded for her efforts. Her last days were spent amid her sons, daughters in law and grand children and with the satisfaction of seeing her children well settled.

I’ve always considered her to be an achiever. People attribute her success story to many things. Her brother’s support for one and her children’s intelligence that won them scholarships for another. True, these have been promoting factors but no brother would support a sister who made life miserable for his wife and family. I cannot think of spending a life time with my children, let alone my brothers. I am sure to feel miserable in any set up other than my own. And a child’s intelligence has to be channelized in the right direction or else an intelligent child can be more of a pain than the average one. Finally people consider her to be plain lucky with a merciful God showering his blessings on her. They forget that she was unlucky to be born with weak eyesight and to lose her husband’s support early in life.

I cannot hope to ever be the person my mother was. But that does not stop me from admiring her for the person she happened to be.

Women Empowerment??

I somehow feel disillusioned by the image of an empowered woman. It seems to be a myth. We have several women who are bread winners of their family but are they empowered in the real sense of the word? Education seems to sometimes act as an impediment rather than a tool that ensures the empowerment of women. Let me explain-

Sandhya was brought up to believe that it was wrong to be vocal. Her parents never encouraged discussions let alone arguments. She never ever learnt that one did not have to be aggressive to be heard. Raising one’s voice beyond a permissible level amounted to quarrel. Decent people did not argue. It was no wonder that when she got married she was at a loss not knowing how and when to be assertive. She had a job alright but it was her husband who’d decide if she needed to buy an umbrella or a raincoat during monsoon. He would ‘permit’ her to draw money from her salary account and assert to anyone who cared to listen that he was the provider in the family and that he never touched his wife’s money. If one were to believe him Sandhya’s bank balance had to be in lacs if not millions. But it was not so. What then happen to all the money she earned? She did not own jewelry or property, did not invest in stocks and shares. She could not bring herself to admit even to herself that while her husband was repaying their house loan and educating their children it was her salary that helped in running the house. It somehow seemed sin to say these things. The house as well as the husband and children were her own. She was not supporting someone else’s family, was she? But there were times when she felt that her contribution be recognized. Okay, if recognizing a woman’s contribution punctured her husband’s male ego, could he not refrain from claiming that he did not use her money? Was it too much to ask? But girls from decent families did not say such things. They simply swallowed the insult being directly or indirectly heaped upon them.

Rani on the other hand worked as a housemaid and earned around Rs.2000/- per month. Her husband was a vegetable vendor. It was her decision that her earnings would be spent or saved for her children’s future. Their education, school books, tuition fees etc were her responsibility. She puts aside a tidy sum for her daughter’s marriage. But food and provisions were to be taken care of by her husband. When he worked the family had enough to eat. However, there were days when he would get drunk and refuse to do business and there would be no food to eat. Rani would then take a stand. She would not cook food when the husband was around. She’d cook for her children, feed them, wash the vessels taking care not to leave any trace of having cooked a meal. She herself would make do with food given by her employers. This policy of ‘no work, no food’ would go on for sometime. The husband would finally have no option but to start selling vegetables once more. She would give him some money as capital, through someone else without letting on that the money came from her.

“I feel bad doing this didi,” she says. “But I want him to take some responsibility instead of squandering all his money.”

When I think of these two women I wonder which of them should be called empowered. Lack of education has not been detrimental to Rani’s feeling empowered. She has been able to take a stand that does not fit into the projected image of soft feminine energy but she, like Sandhya, has the family’s welfare in mind and asserts herself in a manner that seems appropriate to her.

Sandhya, on the other hand, though financially empowered, perhaps allows herself to be emotionally and psychologically exploited and is therefore not empowered in the real sense. I had suggested that education was perhaps instrumental in making women subscribe to a certain expected behavior. I feel that I am not absolutely right. Education or the lack of it cannot be detrimental to women empowerment. Being/feeling empowered is actually the result of a good deal of mental training and conditioning. If one is able to play an active role in decision making processes in her family and society and is able to express her opinion with confidence she has the right to call herself empowered.

Folklore as a teaching aid.

It is long since I wrote or read anything. No particular reason for that except that I was busy preparing for a talk that I gave on the 1^st of March on “Folklore and Environment – an Indian perspective”. I must say that the talk was well received and I can actually pat my back for delivering it in Hindi. This was the first time I was addressing the audience in Hindi and I surprised myself more than others by showing a fairly good command over the language. Years of interaction with Hindi speaking people on a daily basis has actually fetched results. The credit goes to my colleagues and friends and discredit if any is entirely my own. Thank you one and all.

I think I should stop blowing my own trumpet and share with you a cute little story narrated by the other speaker Dr. Mahalik. Of course his talk was interspersed with several stories from Oriya folklore that were relevant to the conservation of the environment but the following one stood out. The essence of the story as I understood it is as follows-

A certain mighty and powerful king wanted to beautify the garden next to his palace. In the middle of the garden was a banyan tree that seemed to be spoiling its beauty. He ordered that the tree be felled. After all he was an all powerful king and it was well within his rights to do as he pleased. He therefore ordered his men to chop of the banyan tree that was nothing but an eyesore in an otherwise beautiful garden. The kings men went to chop off the banyan tree when the tree spoke asking the men to wait for just one more day before felling it. They saw no harm in conceding to a seemingly harmless request by the tree and granted the tree its wish. That very night the banyan tree appeared to the king in his dream.

“Oh, King!” Said the tree. “Why do you wish to chop me off? I am just a tree and I am not harming anyone. Why don’t you let me be?”

The king was annoyed and angry at the audacity of the tree that had dared to question his will.

“You stand right in the middle of my garden spoiling its beauty and you have the audacity to ask me for an explanation. I am the king of this country and I will do just as I please. You will be cut down tomorrow.”

“Of course” said the tree. “You have every right to do as you please. However, there is a small request that I wish to make. Will you just grant me just one wish?”

The king saw no harm in granting just one request to the tree that would in any case be felled the following day. So he agreed to grant the tree its wish.

“You have every right to cut me.” Said the tree. “after all I am occupying the central location of your beautiful garden thereby spoiling its beauty. However, there are so many birds that have made their nests on my branches and others that perch on my branches when they are tired. And what about the squirrels that run up and down my trunk as well as other life forms that have made their niche in me? It is my request that you make some alternative arrangement for them before chopping me down. And ask your men to cut me into small pieces so that the life forms that flourish in the soil beneath me are not harmed when my huge branches fall down.”

The tree’s request had the king thinking about the truth behind its words. He felt ashamed that a banyan tree should be so concerned about the welfare of other life forms when he was concerned only about his own pleasure. He revoked his order and let the tree remain right in the middle of the garden.

The seminar has set me thinking. I wonder if I could get hold of such stories and translate them for children? Dr. Mahalik spoke of eco-lore being an offshoot of folklore. The generation of pre - school and primary school children need to be encouraged to think about the recycling of resources and conservation of the environment. My initiative could be just a small step in this direction. I welcome ideas from one and all of you to get me started.

Parenting woes??

Parenting a normal child has not been easy but it somehow seems to be manageable but parenting a child who is ‘different’ is a challenge. One would not know before hand whether a child is normal or differently able. When one does understand that his/her child is autistic or dyslexic or has an attention deficiency they find it difficult to accept it as a medical condition. The first reaction is that since everyone else in the family was normal there was no reason why their child had to be different.

“He/she is plain lazy” they often say. “He does not want to make an effort.”

I know of a boy S who was not able to read or write since he was dyslexic. His mother who was working in a bank failed to identify the problem and sent him for tuitions saying that he would be forced to follow a routine if an outsider coached him. The tuition master was not a trained teacher but a retired bank employee who took up tuitions to keep himself engaged. Since the mother had asked him to be strict with the boy, he had no hesitation in hitting him hard or throwing bound books and note books on his face. It took them a while to understand the problem and they finally got special permission for him to be assessed on oral tests and to their surprise he showed a good understanding of the subjects including Science but he simply could not read or write. For his 10^th boards he got someone to write for him and he passed with a high second division. The boy is now married and runs a nursery for plants and is called by builders to beautify the apartment complexes built by them. He maintains the gardens of at least six schools in town and has 12 to 15 employees working for him. He has a sound knowledge of plants, their flowering and fruiting seasons and the quality/ intensity of light required for each plant in the nursery. I wouldn’t know if he remembers the thrashings he received as a child or the humiliation he was subjected to. To me he comes across as a cheerful young man who knows his business. Yes, try getting a sapling from him for free and the businessman in him is on high alert!

Another boy K known to me is not dyslexic but is just not interested in regular studies. His dad is an administrative officer and would pluck out stars from the sky if he could to see his son do well in studies. The boy is everything that his father would not want him to be. He would like to learn to play the guitar or train in fusion music. He is generous hearted and thinks nothing of giving away costly branded sweatshirts and jackets to needy children saying that he has more shirts than he could ever wear and he simply could not see children of his age shivering in the cold. Both parents despair that their only child would never take up a career worth the name and may squander their hard earned money on worthless causes. They simply do not know how to make him understand that his generosity may be misplaced and people may befriend him just to fleece him. Their anxiety is not misplaced considering the times we live in. What then is the solution? Suranga has written a beautiful post on how times have changed and it has set me thinking. Affordability has increased and children get what they want. But is it making them laid back and easy going? Will it make them less appreciative of the facilities they get so easily? But then K’s case confuses me. He is different to the normal upper class children who would not spare a thought or cast a second look at their needy counterparts. I for one feel that his parents should encourage him to be kind hearted but should also tell him that working on building a future for himself would help him to work on philanthropic causes in a better way and he could always take up fusion music as a hobby. Unfortunately, parents, in their anxiety, yell at him and he is unable to openly communicate with them. The distance between them keeps growing. I can only hope that with time a middle path may be found and all will end well as in the case of S.

I wonder what makes a child react the way K does. Does it have something to do with lack of communication? Or is it misplaced ambition on the part of parents? I think I am on the verge of learning a new lesson. The rich like the poor also face problems but they are worse of because they have an image to protect and cannot openly discuss the sore points in their lives.

On myths and misunderstandings.........

I cannot believe that I’ve actually turned sixty. Oh yes since the calendar says so I decided that it was time to look back and see how I have evolved as a person. If, over the years, I’ve managed to learn from mistakes and change any misconceptions that I might have held then it is certainly worth the streaks of grey hair on my head!

Let me first think of the misunderstandings about mankind that I once had and now stand corrected.

Having been treated to a generous dose of mythology by my mother I always had an idea of what angels and demons stood for. Ravan was a demon king and so were many others. Angels were good and kind hearted. I readily believed that any one who consumed alcohol or spoke in a loud voice was bad. Having heard of Prahalad I decided that those who did not believe in Hari (Vishnu) were bound to rot in hell. Good and bad were compartmentalized with no grey in between.

Ramayan and Mahabharat are all time favorites of mine. I was in terror of Ravan as a child. With time I realized that he was not that bad a person. He abducted Sita and wanted to marry her and that was wrong. However, he did not force himself on her but rather hoped and waited for a change of heart. Ram on the other hand stood tall for his monogamous relationship with Sita at a time when it was common for kings to marry more than one woman. He was a just king and obedient son. However, he too failed to place absolute trust in his wife’s chastity and sent her on exile when she was pregnant. I have the highest regard for the epic and the message that it conveys. No one is perfect – the best among us have their faults and even the seemingly wicked people have a good side to his/her nature. If only their good qualities are encouraged and their talents appreciated the world may be a better place to live in.

I had been under the impression that those that did not believe in Hari or Lord Vishnu would head for hell on hearing of the story of Bhakta Prahalad. Then I heard of Bhakta Markandeya who believed in Lord Shiva and was granted the boon of immortality. I promptly decided that all gods worshipped by Hindus would perhaps grant entry into heaven but it all changed when I went to study in a boarding school which had a good number of Anglo- Indians and Indian Christian students. They confused me by saying that Christ alone would grant salvation and my polytheist religion stood no chance at all. At one point I even felt bad that either way my Christian friends and I would have to part ways and that was when I suggested that any one who believed in God would perhaps be allowed entry into heaven whatever be the religion they practiced and my friends nodded half heartedly.

With time I have realized that those among us who claim to be atheists and agnostics are actually much more sensitive human beings than those who claim to have religious affiliations. With the human race messing around with nature and creating an ecological imbalance I feel that nature worshippers have actually played an important role in conservation of available resources, be it medicinally valuable plants or water sources. Tribal communities are indeed lucky to have lived in close association with nature and Humanism is the only religion that ever needs to be practiced.

Having heard stories of dowry menace and dowry deaths, I felt annoyed that the practice should have been endorsed by the Indian society. With time I realized that the fault lies not in arrangement of giving one’s daughter a capital to fall back on at the time of financial setback but rather in society’s interpretation that it is a bargaining tool and uses it for its own convenience. Yes, the boy’s family bargains for a better dowry in cash and kind as if it is theirs by right and the girl’s family uses it to flaunt their purchasing power. The very purpose for which dowry or ‘streedhan’ was initially given has been long forgotten.

I used to think that a parent is actually entitled to decide about the course a child’s life ought to take. I now feel that while a parent’s input is important its importance is quite short lived. The brat and the bean have minds of their own and are judging you for the person you are. So instead of expecting them to be on their best behavior watch out for your own. A seemingly innocent remark can catch you unawares and make you feel petty. I am not talking of your adolescent son or daughter who will not even bother to point out but of 5 and 7 year old children.

And finally the misconception that those who consume drug or alcohol in excess were bad-

I have had the opportunity of interacting with at least two men with an addiction for the bottle and I have found them to be excellent human beings. They are much more versatile, kind hearted and generous than the average person. They are talented and artistic even without formal training and any behavioral problem they may have is due to their addiction. Addiction in any form is bad but alcoholics stand out because they are unable to think or act coherently. They need to be helped to get rid of the addiction and not criticized. I know that it is easier said than done and their families go through a lot of mental and physical torture. I only mean to say that while the addiction is bad the addict is not.

I think I did a good thing to put all this on pen and paper. I have learnt a lot but there is still a long way to go with four grandchildren waiting to tutor me.

My Grandpa Will Not Die.........

My grandpa is not going to die soon. He plans to score a century"...........

"My mother in law will not leave till she swallows her only surviving son"...............

"I need to get on with my life. I cannot be responsible for my mother all my life. I plan to put her in a home and accept my promotion with a transfer"...............

Old age and the available medical technology to prolong life have evoked such comments from the kith and kin of old people who live but have no life. I do not know whether their caretakers ought to be blamed because in most of these cases children have tried their best to look after them but are reacting to the frustration that sets in when one feels helpless.

I remember having a talk with my husband a few months back. An elderly relative had just passed on and his family felt relieved. The affection was there alright but the death gave them a much desired freedom to plan a holiday or pay a visit to their children in distant shores. I had then expressed my opinion in favor of mercy killing in my own case.

"I'd be pained to be the cause of any inconvenience to my children. So in the case of an incurable illness I wouldn't want anyone to prolong my life with medication. I'd be glad to go."

My husband made a joke of it.

"The police would arrest me in that case and you'd be unable to leave on your heavenly journey in peace."

"I am serious. I would want you all to let me go."

There was pain in my husband's voice when he said-

"Is it that easy? What if it was me that is terminally ill? Would you then let me die? I too would not want to be a burden to anyone."

His words set me thinking. I had not thought of it from anyone else's point of view. But what then is the solution? It is so common to see people leading a healthy and sometimes not so healthy life even after they've entered their nineties. Their children are retired pensioners with as many if not more health problems. Medical expenses keep soaring and the next generation in all probability has moved to distant places in search of a satisfying career with a good pay package. A weekly phone call and an annual visit is all that they have time for. This is where I feel senior citizen's homes help. This is no longer a home for abandoned parents. This is a place where one can perhaps get the care that an ageing parent deserves – so what if one has to pay for it? In these days of unreliable domestic help, would not an arrangement that takes care of cooking and cleaning be a viable option? I know of a couple relocating to a senior citizen's home in Pondicherry after retirement taking with them their mothers aged 85 and 82. They sold their house in Jamshedpur and invested the money prudently to ensure adequate monthly returns and now lead a peaceful life. They visit their children and relatives as and when they feel like it and their mothers are looked after by the staff in the home. They receive visitors too and do not feel the strain because they have the option of ordering food from the mess and both groups are happy. More than other things medical attention is readily available with 24 hour ambulance service and a tie up with hospitals ensures that they are treated immediately. Under the present scenario I feel that one should consider this a possible option along with that of moving in with their children at some point of time.

And they had better remember that adjustments have to be made whatever their choice.

Dealing with mental disorders.........

I keep thinking of the problems posed while dealing with mentally challenged individual's and wondered if along with the patients, parents and siblings of such people need to be counseled on ways to deal with them. I have written about it here and wonder if you could have a look and offer suggestions.

Gup Shap

My computer is like a whimsical child who is out to act difficult. It just would not get started for the past one week despite having called a service engineer who addressed the problem and rebooted it thrice in my presence and the next morning the problem persisted. It is purely by chance that I managed to start it today so here I am quickly typing out my thoughts hoping that it won’t conk off again before I finish. I wonder how life was before I learnt to use the computer. I remember the time when my daughter spoke of a colleague snatching the mouse from her and I almost shrieked at the thought of my daughter holding a live mouse in her hand and the colleague snatching it from her. That was nearly 10 years back and I only knew that a mouse was a yucky rodent that had better be out of my sight. Today, I have become like a spoilt child and cannot write a complete sentence legibly using pen and paper. I type with one hand with my eyes on the key board. Yet I prefer computer typing to using pen and paper. I wonder how I dealt with the lengthy 4 hour examinations during my masters. I think I’ll get myself a cursive English handwriting book and practice writing along with my grand children.

And what about letter writing that was considered an art when I was growing up? I remember arriving at the Steel city some 38 years back and the only available mode of communication with my folks was through letters. I’d wait eagerly for letters from my mother and reply almost immediately. The practice continued when my daughter went to college. By the time my son went to college we got a telephone at home and it was adieu to a practice that I had cultivated since the age of twelve when I first went to a boarding school. Now with mobile phones available one does not even have to remember telephone numbers! Connectivity has improved but there are times when I wonder if there is a negative side to this privilege. Take for example the case of a girl known to me-

A…. was a friend’s daughter. She got married soon after she graduated and was hardly prepared to deal with the responsibilities associated with marriage and married life. As it happens with most of us she too tried to see her mother in her mother in law and was naturally disappointed. But she had the facility of talking to her mother from the privacy of her bed room and would invariably ring her up every night briefing her about every problem she faced. Unable to help the daughter living in far off Bangalore, the mother would cry herself to sleep wake up the next morning with a headache and worry herself sick about what may or may not be happening in her daughter’s life. If I compare my own life with hers, I have to admit that I too faced teething trouble in the initial months of my marriage. But I’d be careful about what I actually wrote. That I would not want to trouble my mother who had enough to deal with even without having to worry about me was one reason the other being that a written document could always fall into other people’s hand unlike a personal conversation. With time, adjustments were made and I learnt to regard my acquired parents with respect for the kind of people they were instead of comparing them with my own parents. I wonder if such maturity in my approach could have been possible if I had the privilege of talking to my mother over the phone on a daily basis. A mother’s reaction tends to be biased and it is perhaps better to deal with a new set up on one’s own unless of course it is a really unbearable one.

Here again I can almost hear my young readers ask me as to what exactly qualifies to be an unbearable situation? I really have no answer. So I think I’ll end with a story I like to repeat.

A woman would deliberately leave for the temple soon after her son arrived from office since she wanted her son to bond with his newly wed wife. She remembered the time when as a young bride she had longed for a few private moments with her husband and her own mother in law would keep him engaged in meaningless conversation on his return from work. She was therefore surprised to hear her daughter in law complain to a friend that her mother in law seemed to be a work shirker with no real affection for her son.

“It looks as if she was waiting for me to arrive. The moment Anil arrives from office she goes off to the temple. I have to slog in the kitchen preparing tea and snacks and she deliberately returns after all the work is done. I wonder if he ever got to eat a decent meal before I arrived. Poor boy…….”

Having said this I’d like to add, at the cost of sounding hypocritical, that I too use the mobile, computer and all the facilities that the 21^st century offers. I’ll be turning sixty soon and I have to behave like one. What better way to begin than by comparing my times with yours??

A Happy Year 2011

My very first post for the year 2011 should naturally begin with my wishes to each of you for a very happy, scam free New year. Wishful thinking but I do hope we put our heads together and think of what can be done to improve the quality of life rather than let sensational report be utilized to improve the TRP ratings of news channels.

My visit to Mumbai, Bharuch and Shiridi was a memorable one. I got to meet Suranga in person and felt that I had known her all my life. She is the fourth blogger I got to meet. Artnavy, Usha and Mallika (Eve's lung) being the other three. I've spoken to Riti (Itching to write) over the phone. It was a pleasure getting to know you and as for the rest whom I haven't met let me say that each of you is as precious and hopefully we may still meet up any day any time.

How does one feel when one meet a cousin after 35 years and her husband for the first time? That's what happened when I visited Bharuch. It was so nice to meet A... about whom I had only heard in a favorable light and again my husband and me took to him instantly. My husband who takes time to open up surprised me when he said that he wished to talk to A... on our return from Bharuch. Since I can count the number of times he has spoken to me or to his own sister and brother or to our children for that matter, I concluded that he must have felt connected to A... Hats off A... you have indeed achieved something!

I wonder if I should switch over to the reading mode for the next few months? My posts are becoming repetitive and I seem to have nothing new to write about. But then the talkative person that I am, I may just forget my resolution within a week and want to share my observations with you all!

It is rather cold in our parts of India though not as bad as the North as in Delhi or UP and Rajasthan. My knees are a constant reminder of the chilly weather. that reminds me. Suranga had advised me to check my B 12 and D 3 levels. I think I'll do it soon- after all health is wealth isn't it?

A Happy New year all of you. please come up with ideas to deal with scamsters and the like who think nothing of depriving children below poverty line of precious milk meant for them as has happened in the Aanganbadi in our town.

Adjustments in a relationship.

Womens web has invited opinion on adjustments in a relationship quoting examples of three young working women. I have dealt with a slightly broader perspective and reached the conclusion that adjustment based on mutual concern and respect works well enough but it becomes a burden when it is one sided irrespective of whether it is the man or his wife that adjusts.

Adjustment is an ambiguous word that cannot be properly defined. It has one meaning when applied to women and quite another when applied to men. It applies to the wife and daughter in law but never to one’s mother or sister or daughter. Does adjustment mean submission? May be or may be not. It depends on a person’s expectation from those around him/her. An alcoholic’s mother may expect her daughter in law to adjust with her son’s drinking habit but how about handling the alcoholic son for a few days in the absence of her daughter in law? After all he was her son for 30 long years before he became her husband. And perhaps she was the one who got him married to an unsuspecting girl to shift responsibility.

When does adjustment become submission one may ask. It is a difficult question without a correct answer. It perhaps depends on one’s own level of tolerance. May be adjustment becomes meaningless when one begins to feel that the relationship is onerous and untenable. No relationship is an equal 50:50 partnership deal. This applies not only to marriages but to any relationship that involves give and take. But when one is in a mood to adjust if not a perfect 50/50 ratio, a 40/60 or a 35/65 ratio may work. Beyond that it becomes a burden. Think of a situation in which a whole wing of an apartment complex has to share water from a common overhead tank. Of the 6 households in the wing some may waste more water than others. This may be tolerated till the others manage to get a decent amount of water for their personal use. But if those that use water responsibly have to face water shortage due to the callousness of the others there is bound to be tension to the extent of making civil behavior among them impossible. Water, after all is an essential commodity.

In quite a similar manner adjustments have to be made in a marital relationship. In India marriage implies the union of two families. Very often the boy’s family has an upper hand and the girl and her family adjusts. There are also cases where the boy has to adjust with a whimsical wife who has decided to dislike his family from day one. The boy’s family, in such cases, reciprocates in equal measure making life a living hell for him or maintains a safe distance from him in their effort to ensure peace in their son’s life. It is also seen that a whimsical, demanding spouse just uses his/her partner’s family as an excuse to start a quarrel. Their behavior persists even after all demands have been met with and there is no interference from the extended family. So one is forced to conclude that in several relationships adjustments made are one sided and the person who is the more adjustable feels unhappy at the thought of having been at the receiving end of a dominating partnership.

It is often said that a woman is expected to be more adjusting and this is the advice she gets from her own family at the time of her marriage. In the Indian context there are several reasons for this expectation from a woman. The girl child is considered as ‘paraya dhan’ or property that actually belongs to her husband’s family entrusted to be cared for by her parents till her marriage. She becomes an outsider in the very home that she was born into once married. She has to deal with any discomfort she may face in the new set up. If such is the expectation by her own family, her in laws are no better. She has no probation period nor is she gradually initiated into a family of strangers with alternate ways of handling a situation. No one realizes that she needs time to accept the family acquired by marriage as her own.

Another reason for such an expectation is perhaps the misplaced expectation from a son. In the Indian set up a son’s birth is welcomed because he is expected to look after them in their old age. A daughter’s arrival unfortunately seen as a wasteful expense since she would be ‘given off’ in marriage and would be of no practical value to them. Till such an attitude persists girls would be expected to adjust even in the most difficult situations and her return to her paternal home would never be encouraged.

I tend to deal with cases that indicate that the woman is the one who adjusts. These are the more debated examples. But men have also adjusted stretching themselves beyond normal limit to make a relationship work. Society looks down upon a man who adjusts and he prefers to maintain a low profile and never lets on that he too has had to put up with an arrogant boss or an uncompromising wife. It is plain to all who wish to see that adjustments are meaningful only when all those involved in a relationship are equal contributors in an effort to make it a pleasant and long lasting one. This is possible only when there is mutual respect and sufficient breathing space to allow it to flourish.

Informal Education

It is long since I posted anything the reason being the onset of winter and the tendency to curl up on bed with a book whenever possible. I am reading an interesting book by Dr. Bruce Lipton – The Biology of Belief and it has given me an insight into the role played by the mind in shaping one’s health. No, I am not done with the book yet but being a biology teacher myself I realized that there was lot more to biology than what is being taught in its conventional form. It is like learning my subject all over again.

While dealing with Biology in its unconventional form I was inspired to think of the unorthodox modes of teaching and was forced to admit that those who broke away from the routine of class room teaching and practiced self learning in varies forms have actually benefitted from it. A look around me does identify a few people known to me who were criticized when they broke away from the tried and tested path but have indeed proved their critics wrong. Ramani was one such person.

Rmani was in class 9 when he ran away from school and returned after 24 hours saying that he was drugged and abducted by a stranger who offered him sweets in the local train while returning home. He managed to escape when he gained consciousness. Apparently his abductor had left him unattended and had gone off to have a cup of tea. The boy gave him a slip and boarded a train to Chennai to return home. His version was authenticated by the station master of Katpadi junction whom he had approached for help. The boy was brilliant but was never regular in class. He would not finish his assignments on time and ask his teachers pesky questions much to their irritation. He managed to finish school and joined a prestigious college in Chennai. He dropped out within a year saying that he found classes boring and he did not expect to benefit greatly by the outdated syllabus that was being followed. He wanted to be left alone till he decided on what was best for him. His parents almost fell at his feet asking him to first finish his course and ponder on what he wished to do with his life later. The boy was adamant and their pleas fell on deaf ears. Six months later he purchased books on computer technology and for the next 3 years did a lot of self study. Without a degree to support him, the boy started his career as a software consultant working for up and coming companies. He charged a pittance for his services if at all. Very soon word spread around and today he works from home earning not less than a lakh per month. He is invited to Latin America, Korea and Portugal to train those with engineering degrees and he has the final say on the structure and duration of the course. His wife is an MCA graduate but she gladly admits that he is more knowledgeable than her. He now admits that the story of his abduction in class 9 was not true. It was an experiment he tried out to escape the monotony of his school routine and simply an extension of his imagination.

Lalita was always drawn towards nature and believed that one could learn more from nature that all the conventional text books put together. She left home with her children - two of them minors – and lived in an aashram in the Western Ghats. She encouraged them to learn from their surroundings and at their own pace. She bought a lot of books for them and allowed them to apply the knowledge gained from books to their daily lives. Her children are now settled in life. To call them brilliant would be an understatement. With no formal education they are experts in their respective fields. When I think of them I wonder if we are doing the right thing by pressurizing our children to learn by rote or imposing a curriculum that has no relevance or application to their career or day to day life. Yet how many of us are willing to take a chance? I may appreciate such people from a distance and refrain from criticizing them but would I have the confidence to try it out on my own children/students? I am afraid not. The famous saying ‘better safe than sorry’ is perhaps more applicable to most of us.

Having said this it is only fair to add that informal education only benefits children that are receptive to it. I know of a father who was of the opinion that children ought not to be coerced into following any routine. He had a successful career and according to him, since his own father never imposed anything on him and he would do the same and let his children decide for themselves about what they would do with their lives. Unfortunately his son needed the guiding influence of a father and was unable to cope with the strain posed in the prevailing competitive environment. He was an average student with a flair for painting and music. With a little encouragement and a lot of appreciation the boy could have done well enough in class but the father being disappointed with him chose to blame his wife’s upbringing as well as her genes for his dismal record. His only argument was that since his own father had allowed him to study at his own pace and he turned out to be successful there could be nothing wrong with his method. He never even suspected that the method that worked for him may not be appropriate for his son. Today the son lacks confidence and longs for a kind word from his father more than anything else.

I haven’t yet finished the book but the title The Biology of Belief is impressive. Belief in one’s potential enables one to make an appropriate choice from the available environment. If a child is able to believe in his own capabilities he can make it big even if he is a school drop out because he imbibes life’s lessons by practical methods. If on the other hand he lacks confidence it becomes the duty of his parents and teachers to give the necessary moral boosting to acquire it. Whether the required training is formal or informal hardly matters. If the child’s potential has to be awakened a chain of mutual trust linking him to his environment on the one hand and his parent on the other has to be established. And once this chain is established it can work wonders to the internal system of an individual

On motherhood.........

Starry eyed had raised a question in her post on whether a surrogate mother, mother to an adopted child or a woman who has lost a child due to death or miscarriage and one who has been cut off from her children for whatever reason is still a mother. The inputs from her readers are interesting and most agree that a mother need not necessarily be a biological one to qualify as a mother. Surrogate mothers as well as those who adopt children are all mothers. Surrogacy and adoption are to my mind more superior forms of motherhood because society’s prying eyes keep watching them at every step and dealing with them is much more tough– this thankfully is a problem that biological mothers do not face. However, motherhood is a social responsibility in itself and however hard one tries on hind sight there is always a lingering doubt as to whether one has failed in this or the other aspect.

I have been a mother for 36 years and my role as a mother has seen its ups and down despite having tried my best. But one of the conditions mentioned bothers me. Does a person who is cut off from her child for whatever reason qualify to be a mother? Cut off from one’s children? Is it possible, I wonder? One may be physically cut off from her child but emotionally? Not easy at all I feel.

When I was growing up it was normal for children to be raised by grandparents’ preferably maternal grandparents. It was not unusual to have 4 to 6 children in quick succession so the older children would be conveniently left behind to make life easy for the mother. My own grandfather had at least 6 grandchildren staying with him since their fathers had transferable jobs and their schooling was getting disrupted. I often used to wonder how the children felt about it. While a mother may still feel connected to the child would a child feel the same way?

My father in law and his brothers had all left their oldest son to be educated and looked after by their grandparents mainly because Jamshedpur being far off they felt that this was a way to help their daughters. I had myself left my daughter with my mother for a year just when she had begun to recognize me and would refuse to go to anyone from my lap. It was not easy to not listen to her first words and watch her take her first steps. But then I had my compulsions and I hope I haven’t been considered less a mother because of it.

Having said this I come back to the original question. Who is a mother in the real sense? A biological mother has an edge over others in that she gets to decide what is best for her child. I know of a girl who did not conceive even 6 years of marriage and she decided to adopt her husband’s younger sister’s third child – a daughter. Within a year she got pregnant and had a biological child – again a daughter. As far as I can see she is good to both children and treats them at par. But her parents in law keep looking for subtle differences in their upbringing even where there are none. With time she got frustrated and showed them the door. According to her they were being over protective about the adopted child who was by chance their biological granddaughter too and were poisoning the child’s mind. It was impossible to raise the children as long as they interfered. If one’s own family views a mother’s intention towards her adopted child with suspicion why not the world around her?

A mother to my mind is one who knows to strike a balance between the affection that she feels for the child and the responsibility that she faces in making him/her a person fit enough to take his/her place in society. It is not easy but one has to try. When my children were in their primary classes my husband would drop them to school and they would come home by local transport. On rare occasions I would pick them up from school on my way back from college. The thought of my children standing in the sun waiting for a bus was not very comforting but I could not bring myself to leave a little early to pick them up. It was equally difficult for me to ask for favors from my colleagues in college on a daily basis. But then I encouraged them to go to school by cycle and they became independent pretty soon. So these little set backs actually worked in their favor – so what if the world considered me a bad mother who was hard on her kids.

And then what about mothers whose intentions are good but approach is questionable. Like a mother in a joint family who supposedly would carry a pail full of buttermilk with thick curd at the bottom. While serving her own children she’d take out the curd from the bottom and serve diluted buttermilk to other children in the group. While I agree that individual care for one’s own children is not possible in a joint family set up some middle path has to be adopted. May be the buttermilk and curd could be churned together so that all children get to consume a fairly nutritious diet. I feel a mother needs to be fair minded if she wants her children to get the right message regarding their interactions with their peers.

I’ve almost forgotten another group of mothers - the step mothers. They are the most maligned group among mothers. True, the step mother who has to bond with a child who is not her own and who is a constant reminder of a woman who was once an important person in her husband’s life. Like the case of mothers of adopted children she has to walk on tight rope. I had discussed about a few step mothers who were very caring and affectionate in this post of mine and pointed out that despite the impression one has about the group, there are several who are very good mothers and let us give them due credit.

I have seen women without issues being universal mothers. Having one’s own children has acted as a limiting factor. You love your own children and are so focused that there is no real need to look around and spare a moment for other children. But very often a childless aunt makes herself available whenever approached. She is able to treat a whole bunch of nieces, nephews and other children in the neighborhood with equal affection and one wonders whether her not having children of her own was because she was destined to be mother to more children than she could have ever borne herself? I know of one such person myself and remember her with the same affection that I have for my own mother.

I have to conclude by saying that the natural maternal instinct shown by a woman has little to do with bearing and rearing a child. It cannot be attributed to biological mothers alone. What makes one a mother in the true sense of the word is her ability to understand the responsibility that is involved in grooming children to become an integrated part of society. Anyone who fulfils the role is indeed a mother whether or not she happens to be a biological one.

Endorsing corrupt practices???

The TV is full of news about corruptions and scams. A survey conducted by the news channel CNN-IBN points out that politicians and bureaucrats are mainly responsible for the present situation. I, for one, strongly believe that a situation, good or bad, takes a while to develop and take shape and if it were not for the indifference shown by the common man, no one, however highly placed, could have got away with being part of a multi - crore scam. So in a way I am as responsible as the scamsters for the situation.

Long back, when I had just taken admission in a local college to do my masters, I was told that one of my class mates had perhaps tampered with her B. Sc. Results. Those were days when results were announced in local news papers and according to the news paper the girl had obtained a second division but her mark sheet indicated that she had first division marks. She could not have otherwise got admitted to the master’s program since the cut off marks for the year was 62.5 and our HOD being a very strict person would not have allowed her entry. I was about 12 to 14 years older than my class mates and having worked in a college for nearly 5 years I knew that very often due to printing mistakes the results announced in newspapers are often incorrect and I said as much to my class mates. Just then the girl in question arrived and when confronted she openly said that her father being an IAS officer was in a position to influence people and she had indeed been favored. Had the rest of us been in her position we might have done the same. It happened all the time and her father in turn would oblige people with favors when his turn came. I was too shocked to respond. The girl however did not continue for long. She married a man in the administrative services and left within months. I can only make guesses regarding the favors her children might have obtained along the way since they had not only a father but also a grand father lobbying for favors on their behalf. Not that I could have done much but the least I could have done was to have voiced my protest/opinion in the matter. But I did not. I felt that she would not understand since her upbringing was different. She was brought up to believe that she was entitled to certain favors by virtue of her dad’s position.

We later had a student whose dad was a senior professor in a reputed college. The girl was bright enough to obtain a first division by her own efforts. But her brother was an IAS topper and had a brilliant academic record. She was under tremendous pressure from her family to top the batch. Her dad would ring up evaluators and examiners and casually pass on her roll number to them. However, the examiners were not influenced and she did not top the class let alone the entire batch in her undergrad examination. She went on to do her masters and was caught cheating on the final day of the university examination and was debarred. She later got married and left the town. If her father had not interfered she would have managed to pass with good marks. But the man wanted to flaunt her as being outstanding and she ended up being disgraced and debarred. I wonder why we could never bring ourselves to tell the father that he ought to leave her alone. He was a very senior academician and a good teacher. But is there any rule that says that his daughter had to be the best? We found excuses to remain silent and our respect for a senior colleague was just one of them.

Can we blame our politicians and others in influential positions for being corrupt? Are we not endorsing the practice by our silence? Do we not want to have it easy? Are we not suggesting to our youth that greasing palms and skipping the queue once in a way is okay. “Who has the time?…………” is the usual refrain. We catch hold of agents who in turn bribe dealing assistants to get forms submitted or for files to be moved from table to table.

What then is the solution? Frankly I wouldn’t know. I end with a story about the HOD of our PG department. He was a principled man and stood in a queue to submit his tax return form. He saw people paying the clerk Rs. 2/- each while submitting the form and ventured to ask why the money was being collected when his turn came. The clerk looked up and said “please wait I’ll let you know.” He put his form aside and went on to collect other forms. Finally after making him stand in the scorching sun for nearly 2 hours and after the last person left the man gave him the acknowledgement slip and said-

“Log apni khushi se diye aur hum liye. Apko koi taklif hai kya?”

(People gave me money of their own accord and I accepted it from them. Does this bother you in any way?)

This happened some 30 years back. No one knew why they had to pay the clerk. They paid him just because others were paying him and thought that it was perhaps expected of them. Like all other aspects of life corruption too has become part of our lives. They day it affects our dignity self respect it will probably die a natural death.

Down the memory lane - 2

I was upset when I heard that my good friend Prema’s older brother Raju passed away. No, he was not young nor did he leave behind dependents. He was schizophrenic and in the care of another brother who himself has retired from his services in the Railways. So, in a way it was good that he did not suffer from any prolonged illness and died a peaceful death. The news of his death took me back in time when Ramu, the main supporter and bread winner in their family died an untimely death just 6 weeks after his marriage leaving behind him his wife who had waited for 8 long years to marry him, his ailing mother and a schizophrenic brother. That was 26 years ago. His death was a shock not only to his family but to all of us who had bonded with them. The other brother had married a colleague and their marriage was not very well received by the family – at least not initially. Prema was Ramu’s right hand as long as she was unmarried but at the time of his death she was trying to adjust with the customs of the family she had married into and could not be of much help to them – neither financially nor emotionally. His wife was inconsolable and her anger was unjustifiably directed towards the family who she accused of having hidden the truth of his illness from her. That was however an entirely different matter and deserves a separate post.

My husband was present at the crematorium when Ramu’s body went up in flames. If anyone else had narrated the story I would have rubbished the entire episode. My husband is a serious minded person and would never have repeated what happened in the ghat unless it was authentic and this is what he said –

Those were days when Jamshedpur did not have an electric crematorium and wood was used for the purpose. It seemed Ramu’s body was taking very long to burn despite the huge amount of wood that was being used. People who had gathered there were surprised since his body was frail and wasted on account of his illness. Someone suggested that Ramu’s soul was not prepared to go since he was worried about his mother and schizophrenic brother and his brother G, working with the railways should make a promise that he would look after both of them. It was an emotional moment for all present when G spoke with tear filled eyes. He said –

“Ramu, please leave in peace. I promise to look after amma and Raju in the best possible manner as long as they live. This is a promise that I‘ve made in the presence of so many witnesses and will always strive to fulfill it.”

Having said this he broke down.

Twenty six years have gone by and I must add that G did keep his promise to his older brother. He took his mother and older brother with him to the place of his posting. Ramu’s widow laid claim to his LIC and provident fund contributions refusing to consider the plight of his mother and brother. One could hardly blame her. She had not bonded with the family and she saw this as a means to settle scores with them. She had a job and parting with at least a part of his settlement money may not have mattered. However, the choice was hers and she chose not to have any consideration for them. She also took away anything of value in their house saying that all of it belonged to her. Ramu’s mother died within a year of his death and it was the responsibility of G to look after his brother.

And did he keep his promise. Fortunately for him G and his wife took good care of the mentally challenged brother. They saw to it that he was given his regular dose of medication and treated him as normally as possible. They involved him in household chores and encouraged their daughter to bond with him. She is now doing her Ph.D in Kolkata. Uncle and niece would have long telephonic conversations. He would tell her that he planned to buy her a gold chain.

“And how would you get me the chain?’ she’d ask. “Do you have the money for it?’

In his naivety Raju would reply – “I have put aside money from the money your dad gives me as spending money and I’ll buy you a chain as soon as you get your degree.”

Unfortunately for him, he did not live to see the day.

Prema told me that it was not easy dealing with Raju. He would get aggressive at times and refuse to listen to anyone. G and his wife would be at wits end not knowing how to deal with him. But they never complained or asked any of his sisters to look after him for a change. I can only pray that the Almighty showers His blessings on their family because they have done their bit without a grudge.

My faith in the goodness of mankind takes a beating when I hear of scamsters and conniving politicians. It gets restored when I hear about the likes of G and his wife. They are just middle class people with a modest income but they are large hearted and that is what matters in the long run.

Happy Deepavali

Let me wish each one of you a very happy Deepavali and a prosperous New Year.

Deepavali brings a lot of memories along with it - the main being the anticipation that we felt earlier and has gone missing now. When I was growing up it was an occasion to look forward to new clothes and a whole lot of sweets. My mother would wake us up at dawn and we would have an oil bath before daybreak. The sweets and savories prepared earlier would be distributed. Crackers would be burst and we’d enjoy the day with carefree abandon. We’d go for fireworks at the club in the evening and get treated to a sumptuous dinner following the fireworks.

Then came a time when we became parents ourselves and things changed a bit. Oh yes, the early morning bath, and distribution of sweets was all there. But we had been elevated to the role of planners. Deepavali coincided with the time my husband received his annual bonus. We’d revise the budget over and over again making sure that everything was covered. Starting from curtains and bed linen to a shawl for my father in law as well as shoes for school going children everything would be included apart from the new clothes for every member of the family. It was a pleasure hunting for the best deals and contrary to the claim I make in my posts about not caring too much for shopping, I’d actually enjoy the experience. Sweets and savories were always home made except for jelebis that I do not know to prepare. When the children were small I would put them to sleep and start preparing sweets after 10 pm with my husband to assist me and together we would put them away in air tight steel containers sprinkling a little germaxine in and around the area to keep away the ants. This continued for the first 25 years of my marriage.

Has it changed now? In a way it has. I still prepare sweet for distribution because this is one occasion that my friends look forward to mainly because it is home made. I keep announcing that this year was the last time I was taking the trouble and we would order sweets from the caterers from ‘the next year’ and like ‘tomorrow’ it never seems to come. But all else has changed. It is long since I stopped shopping for Diwali. I seem to have a saree or two that I hadn’t worn and bed linen and curtains don’t have to be replaced every year. Moreover there is no bonus to look forward to so we buy stuff whenever we feel like it.

‘Tata Steel has announced 20% bonus and Tin plate only 15%’…………

That was once upon a time it has no meaning now.

The only anticipation we have now is that of phone calls from our near and dear ones including our children.

“A Very Happy Deepavali” to one and all of you.

My Entry.

Women's web has announced a contest asking contestants to write about their favorite female characters. Details about the contest can be obtained here. And here I go!

I've read Sivasankari's Nakel some 10 years back but it is a story that I love to repeat since it impressed me a lot. I must admit that I am not very sure about the names of the main characters. As far as I remember they are Renuka and Muthuswami. I may however be muddling up the names. Kindly bear with me. The essence of the story remains the same. so read on.

The character of Renuka in a Hindi translation of Sivasankari’s novel titled ‘Nakel’ is an all time favorite among the many female characters I like. Nakel’ means the halter – pin/ halter fixed to an animal’s nose to tame/control it. I think it should translate into ‘mookannakayiru’ in Tamil but unfortunately a web search did not throw up any result so I am not sure. However my desire to read the novel in the original remains and I do hope I am able to lay my hands on it soon. The actual surprise is at the end of the story and Sivasankari is simply brilliant to come up with such a superb ending to a story that seemed so very stereotype.

Renuka, the typical docile, tolerant Indian woman is aware of her husband’s umpteen affairs outside marriage but cannot do much about it. She has inherited a business empire from her father but is incapable of running it and happily lets her husband Muthuswami manage things. The story begins with Renuka’s teenaged son telling her that he had seen his father emerge from a hotel room accompanied by his secretary. He felt that the two of them shared a fair degree of intimacy. Renuka waits for her husband to leave on a business tour and swings into action. She first visits the secretary’s home and realizes that her family solely depended on her income for sustenance. She meets the girl’s father and offers to get her married to Muthuswami. Her inability to satisfy him in bed due to health reasons was bothering her and she wished to do something about it. She assures him that his daughter would continue to support him even after marriage. She also offers the same explanation to her husband’s elder brother who strongly opposes the idea initially but relents later. By the time her husband returns a date for the wedding is scheduled and preparations are underway. The husband is inwardly delighted but puts on an appearance of reluctance. The wedding takes place as planned. The two leave for their honeymoon.

On his return from his honeymoon Muthuswami rushes home with gifts for his first wife and children and looks forward to some private time with her. He had after all neglected her long enough. But no, he is in for a surprise.

Renuka asks him to leave her alone and move in with his second wife.

“From now on you will be staying with her in her house.” She declares. “The world knows that I got you married to a woman of your choice due to my indifferent health. So no one will be surprised if you do not stay here. You may visit us during the day if you so wish. This will not be your home any more.”

““The company will pay you your salary on the first of every month and you can look for a rented accommodation to suit your requirements like all other employees.”

Muthuswami remembers that the company was legally in her name and he himself a mere employee. Taking her loyalty for granted he had never bothered to change the arrangement.

“Why did you do this to me?” Wails Muthuswami.

Renuka explains. The secretary would accompany him on his business tours and keep an eye on him. It would not be easy to fool her the way he managed to fool Renuka. When the question of the marriage of their children came up, society would accept a second wife in his life but would object to a father with roving eyes. As for her she would stand tall as the sacrificing wife who understood her shortcomings and placed her husband’s happiness before hers.

She has the last laugh.

Obsessive behavior

Long back when I was new to this industrial town I was amused to observe an obsession for cleanliness in some of my neighbors. Now who doesn’t like a well kept house with everything in perfect order? But it is one thing to strive to keep things in order and quite another to drive everyone crazy due to the obsession. S was one such person. Her house could be easily mistaken for a well maintained hospital ward such was her obsession for cleanliness. I once went to her place to make an emergency phone call. I did not have the courage to step in lest I dirty her drawing room. Every thing stating from bed-linen to sofa covers were sparkling white. She had finished cooking, the gas stove had been wiped clean and covered with a white towel and every corner of her house looked well maintained. The children had gone to school. Their slippers had been washed and lined up in the balcony to dry. I was all praise for her house-keeping skills. We had tea together in her balcony and I took leave and returned home. From my own balcony I could see hers and to my surprise I saw the within minutes of my departure she had washed the sofa cover that I had sat on and was quickly wiping the floor having swept it soon after I stepped out of her house. I was annoyed and amused at the same time. Stories related to her obsession for cleanliness were whispered by my neighbors. Her children were scared to use the toilet after they finished their morning routine and left for school. She would wash the bath – room cum toilet once in the morning and again before an evening bath. The children normally relieved themselves at school before coming home or found excuses to use a neighbor’s bathroom. She was however kind enough to let them use it on their return from play in the evening before she washed it. It was a common sight to see her husband open his shoes in the landing and walk into the house carrying it in his hand to be placed in the shoe rack. I often wondered if it made sense to have a sparkling house at the expense of torturing children in their pre-teens.

Another neighbor D would detain her servant till seven in the evening. Every item in the house had to be dusted and ever corner of her house would be wiped over and over again. Her children aged six and two would be seen playing in the verandah in all weather conditions. They would be denied entry out of fear that they would mess up the house. Oh yes, she loved them a lot but her obsession for cleanliness far outweighed her love for them. We would often see her escort the servant home. She’d be dressed in a petticoat and a loose shirt hardly befitting a woman of her status. Her excuse would be that she hadn’t yet cooked for the family and would change after finishing her cooking and had a bath perhaps at nine or ten in the night. Through out the day one could see her peculiarly dressed, hair uncombed and duster in hand. I often wondered if she cooked breakfast and lunch for her children (her husband had his meals in his office canteen) or treated them to readymade snacks and cold milk if at all.

My own mother in law had a fetish for cleanliness. But hers was within normal limits and the routine of the house certainly did not suffer. While my sister in law and I relaxed with a book in the afternoon she would tidy the kitchen and clean up stuff. She would never be satisfied with the way we arranged things. To her credit I must admit that her organization was better than ours – so what if she kept changing the order every now and then. And she certainly would not start sweeping and swabbing the house after every visitor left.

I wonder how common or uncommon this trait is in society. Wanting to have a well kept house with everything in perfect order and working towards it should be okay. Like in the case of S, she worked hard and maintained a high standard of cleanliness. But the fact that she was always well dressed and her family was well cared for is indicative of the fact that she did not let her obsession interfere with her role as wife and mother. She also had time for social visits, shopping etc. But not letting a child use the toilet in their own house was taking things too far.

D on the other hand was obsessed with her desire to have a sparkling house but her obsession was such that her children were neglected and her work was never over in time. I later heard that she was taken to a counselor for psychiatric assistance. When does an obsession become abnormal I wonder. Long back I read a short story titled ‘araikuraigal’ by the Tamil writer Jayakanthan. It was amusing as well as thought provoking. It points out that the line dividing sanity from insanity is very thin. I suppose it would be wise to set limits to one’s obsession/ambition and stick to them. Excess of any trait however appealing can only be harmful not only to the person but to others who are in association with him or her.

Joint Families - an introspection

I have the habit of raving and ranting on social issues and this time it is about the possible reasons behind the lack of attraction to the joint family system. Who is to be blamed is my question? Following an introspection I realized that my generation is as much to be blamed for the situation as the current bunch of young parents. Read more about it here and give me your honest opinion.

We Compromising Indians

Ever since Kalmadi bashing started I’ve stopped watching other programs on TV and preferred watching the news coverage of our preparation rather the lack of it for the Commonwealth Games known as CWG. I was not surprised that teams from different countries wanted to pull out for the ‘unlivable’ conditions in the games village. It is perhaps due to the difference in Indian and International standards as Mr. Bhanot rightly pointed out.



I really feel delighted. Delighted at Mr. Bhanot’s comment that the Indian definition of hygiene was not the same as that in the western world. Rather the developed countries seem to have an atrociously high standard for clean toilets. What seems okay for us seems to appear filthy to them. Now, don’t get me wrong. I am all in support of the gentleman. It is not as if we are talking of the living room or dining area. A bathroom is after all a place for cleaning one’s system and flushing out digestive wastes. And yet they want it to be sparkling, It is no wonder that more than 50% of Indians relieve themselves in public places. That way there will be no accountability and we Indians including Mr. Lalit Bahnot love the situation where one does not have to account for his/her action. I hope he plans to hand out aluminium or brass ‘lotas’ and train the delegates to relieve themselves on the banks of the Yamuna. They are bound to enjoy the experience and have a lot to share with their family when they return. Think of the atrociously high price the organizers could quote for the 'lotas' and the money it could fetch. Mr. Bhanot, I hope you are listening.



And look at the furor over paan stains in the corridors of the buildings marked out for the CWG. I don’t blame the westerners. They sip wine and smoke cigars. So they really do not understand how difficult it is for paan chewing Indians. But the way our media goes on and on about a few paan stains is disgusting. You can climb the stairs of any government office including the Secretariat in state capitals. People chew tobacco and beetle leaves and spit it out before entering the office of the high and mighty who they plan to meet. After all it does not look good to stand in front of an officer chewing tobacco or paan. He may ask you a question and in your effort to answer him you may end up spitting it on his spotlessly clean suit, polished floor or anywhere within a radius of 5 meters from him. Lalu Prasad Yadav had a party worker following him with silver spittoon wherever he went. Not everyone can boast of the facility. Isn’t it better to be safe than sorry? So as long as people chew tobacco and paan, corridors of government offices and national monuments have every chance of looking colorful with bright stains all over the place. We actually need to have people trained to interpret our unique paan chewing culture to our visitors. May be we could get a few of them addicted so that the next time around they will not be shocked or knocked out of their senses.



As for Mr. Manishankar Iyer, the man seems to practice black magic. The elements seem to be controlled by him. The Delhi CM is at wit’s end. The rains just will not stop. No wonder a bridge here and a roof there have started giving way. Come on Mr. Iyer, I agree that those in the government as well as those outside it called you anti - national when you opposed the conduction of the commonwealth games on the grounds that the money involved could be used for other development projects. But should you go to the extent of invoking the Rain God and getting him to lash out on sports lovers? The way things stand India may be the only participating country and the few loyals who still want to cheer them may not even reach the venues. The rains just have to stop before more structures collapse and disrupt the smooth(?) flow of traffic.



But I am not surprised. The head of an institution slaps a gatekeeper in the presence of 200 students for being unable to control a frenzied mob single handedly and the officer in charge of the nearest police station advices the man not to annoy his higher ups. Instead of worrying about his safety and insisting on better security arrangements, the labor union refuses to take up his case saying that he was guilty of having neglected his duty. A young girl with a promising future dies under mysterious circumstances and her colleagues insist on a post-mortem but her father refuses to pursue the case saying that it would affect the lives of his remaining children since her in laws had powerful connections. Another girl with an equally promising career is murdered for dowry and her husband manages to be acquitted due to lack of evidence. Within months he remarries without his credentials being ever questioned. Isn’t this laid back attitude at least partly responsible for the substandard levels in every important aspect of our lives? We would rather cough up a percentage as bribe than await our turn in the normal course. We want it to have it easy all the time – so what if we have become a laughing stock to the world in the run up to the commonwealth games and a few have become richer. Was perhaps their destiny that worked overtime? The debate will continue for a few weeks, some may be arrested and released for want of concrete proof and we will start planning for the next national waste of the taxpayer’s money.



I started this piece as a satire but I end it with agony and shame hoping that at least a few valuable lessons will be learnt from this unfortunate chapter in Indian History.

Unusual Relationships

Of late I have been thinking of an unusual type of relationship among humans. One of asexuality. Well come to think of it asexuality may be more common than what we expect it to be. It was perhaps never openly discussed. We, in India, are so tight lipped when it comes to discussing sexuality, that several problems that arise due to lack of understanding/misunderstanding remain unspoken and unattended. It is as if openly discussing the problems associated with sexual preferences and behavior is sin. I wish to discuss it not as an expert - which I am not - but rather as one seeking answers. It is my request that it may be treated with the seriousness it deserves.

Long ago when my marriage was just a few months old I remember a neighbor with children aged 10 and 7 coming over to our place and discussing with my mother in law some matter of grave importance in a hushed tone. She was a new comer to our town and was not very well known to our family. I kept to myself since the woman in question seemed to prefer to exclude me from the discussion. However it was my mother in law’s reaction that drew my attention,

“Don’t be silly” she had said in a sharp tone. “If your husband was indifferent and uncaring how did you have children by him? Hush up now and never repeat what you have just told me. The world will laugh at you.”

And so it did. In the months that followed it was an open secret that her husband was not sexually inclined and she had to plead with him to have children.

“My children are God’s gift to me.” She would often say. People would laugh behind her back and even call her Kunti Devi referring to the character in Mahabharat who apparently conceived the Pandava princes by invoking the Gods and natural elements.

Years rolled on and after my mother in law’s death I distanced myself from the woman unable to listen to the same story repeated over and over again. I had almost concluded that she was crazy and felt that the point raised by my mother in law was a valid one. She finally moved out of Jamshedpur and I got on with my life.

Recently it was whispered that a young mother known to me was contemplating divorce. The reason quoted was the same as the lady mentioned above. It set me thinking. Was procreation a purely biological phenomenon? Weren’t there any emotions involved? I wondered if the man in question was partially impotent. The couple in question seemed happy enough. I wondered what might have gone wrong? I wondered if there was any way to save the marriage? I immediately explored the Internet and stumbled upon a possible answer. Like homosexual, heterosexual and ambi-sexuals there are people who are asexual. They are not impotent nor do they practice celibacy. They are simply not interested in physical intimacy and prefer a platonic level of emotional interaction. That they may be coaxed or coerced into a sexual relationship on rare occasions, explains how they manage to have children but their married life can be frustrating and dissatisfying if not to them at least to their partners. I remembered the lady who I had known earlier and wondered if it was due to frustration that she gave vent to her feelings and if we were wrong in deciding that she was crazy.

I am not a doctor or psychologist but I certainly would like to know if there is a way that enables one understand that their (a)sexual preference would adversely affect their married life and therefore clarify the situation to their future partners before tying the knot. Alternatively they may perhaps seek out others like themselves and enjoy a purely platonic relationship. I don’t see any point in coaxing such a person into marriage and complaining later. Parents assume that all is well with their children and children never feel comfortable talking to them on such sensitive issues and when it does crop up counseling is never a preferred option. I for one feel that we as a society ought to change and learn to be more open to discussing what we consider unusual or abnormal. For all one know the condition may be more prevalent but less known.

The teachers in my life.

Yet another teacher’s day has passed by and I am left wondering whether the profession so very glorified in our epics to the extent of placing one’s Guru even before God has lost its revered place in our society. I’ve cribbed and complained enough about the plight of teachers as well as student/teacher relationships in earlier posts than to mention them here would be repetitive. I have therefore decided to look back and remember those teachers and mentors who have made me what I am.

The first teacher in my life was of course my mother. Apart from instilling values in my life she was the one who taught me to read and write Tamil thereby encouraging to read good Tamil literature. I remember the time in Mumbai when my father’s transfer did not coincide with my school session and we landed there in mid September. I had to wait till the following June to resume school. My mother took the opportunity to teach me Tamil. In no time I was reading books like ‘Ambulimama’ (Tamil version of Chandamama) and the interest remains with me till date. I am currently reading Kalki’s ‘Sivagamiyin Sapadam’ and enjoying it to the core. My mother was herself a voracious reader and even when she could read no more due to poor eyesight one of us would read out to her. Her concentration was such that she would correct us if we ever mispronounced a word or skipped words. Amma was great and she continues to be my mentor in absentia. Even now I think twice before being uttering a harsh word and in all probability restrain myself. ‘Amma would not have liked it’ I say to myself.

I remember Miss Rose my second grade teacher who would make us read aloud texts from English and correct our pronunciation and accent. She was never critical and her gentle reproaches ensured that we remembered her corrections for life. Then there was Miss Claire, my fifth grade teacher, about whom I have mentioned in this post. She taught me to respect people not for their good looks and fair skin but for whatever good qualities they possessed – not necessarily academic excellence.

How could I ever forget Ms. A. Cheriyan who taught me to love Mathematics and numbers. She was my Mathematics teacher for four long years in high school and I can still visualize the way she explained problems on ‘Time and Distance’ and ‘Work and Time’. She was a little disappointed that I dropped Mathematics after school. We corresponded for six years but we lost touch after my marriage. I met her daughter in Bangalore three years back but unfortunately she had passed on and I lost an opportunity to tell her that I had now become a grandmother to 4 grandchildren but my love and respect for her remains in tact.

Then we had Mrs. Jessie Rajan in my 11th grade who would give us 4/10 for a good essay in English composition. Every composition class would be a test and if one got half a mark more he/she would feel so elated that we’d pull up our collars and strut around like proud peacocks. I was in awe of the way she carried herself and as a senior school student I often wished to be like her if and when I ever became a teacher.

College days were fun but I don’t think I was drawn to my teachers in college as in school. By then we had almost reached adulthood and nothing seemed the same as school. We had very good teachers and they were experts in their subjects. But a certain amount of aloofness had set in and I don’t remember them being particularly caring or appreciative. I recall only one of them – Miss Kokila Florence. I had opted for Biology expecting to be able to apply for medicine only to realize that I had taken up the wrong subject. It was Miss Kokila that made me understand that a thinking mind and a good teacher could turn an otherwise drab subject to an interesting one. She took Botany for us and it was due to her that the subject was made easy and interesting. I later majored in Botany and went on to do my masters and Ph.D. thanks to her inspiration.

Then there were other teachers who inspired me in different ways. I had written about Teacher Huntley and how she impressed me in a recent post. My mentor and Ph.D. guide Dr. Prasad who encouraged me during the lull periods that depressed me while I worked on my thesis. Were it not for him I might have given up mid way.

The Founder Principal of our college Dr. K. Savitri, a professor in Psychology who bound all of us together as a big family and her husband Dr. N.K. Singh who believed in according due respect to their staff members deserve special mention. Our spouses were also considered as part of the college as were our children. They brought out the best in each of us and the college to me is an extension of my home. They believed that a tension free atmosphere and mutual trust were the basic requirements in any organization more so in an educational institution where young minds were being molded and prepared to take on the future of the country. They made our college one with a difference and it remains so till date.

Finally we have students who teach us a new lesson on each day of my working life. I am particularly in awe of students who make it big against all odds. The system in our parts of the country is not the very best and unfortunately not very conducive to education. Sessions are late and exams are conducted for months together but they make the most of the prevailing conditions and aim to do well in life. I can now understand their plight better and feel that a person like me has nothing to feel proud about because I was lucky to have studied in good schools and colleges all along. I still have to learn a lot from those around me who teach valuable lessons in their own way.