Defending arranged marriage

I have been thinking of the way the institution called marriage has changed over the years for quite sometime now. However, I am undecided about whether it has changed for the better or worse. Who is asking me anyway? But then I have a way of talking to myself and also of taking up for the underdog. In this case I personally feel that parents of eligible bachelors and spinsters, poor souls, are at the receiving end and deserve to be considered first. It is quite another thing that I am such a parent myself but I play the role of a moderator so I exempt myself.

When I was young love marriages were frowned upon. You could be in love with your first cousin (it was very common since our community allowed such marriages) or anyone within the permissible sub-sect of one’s community but had to hope that elders in the family would find the match appropriate and initiate negotiations. If not you just married someone chosen by your parents for whatever reason and adjusted. Parents too did not bother about the boy’s pay packet or the girl’s looks but rather the reputation of the family. The girl had to ‘manage’. Marrying outside the community was a strict No, no. I talk of the majority of cases. There were a few who broke the rule and I personally knew of a college senior who married a man from the muslim community, donned a burkha and lived as his third wife in a neighboring town. No one ever saw her after that and I felt that she had made a mistake by giving up her job in the Telephone Exchange. I would not know if she was happy with the arrangement but I did feel that she could have perhaps been a little more prudent in her choice.

If this was the case of defying the rules imposed by society and family there was another example of a happily married woman in our neighborhood. Happily married? At least I thought so. She had a government job, her husband was a very normal family man and the couple had 3 children all in their pre-teens. Her mother in law looked after the children, getting them ready for school and attending to them till their mother returned from work and everything seemed fine. Yet one day the woman left them all and eloped with a colleague of hers who held a position inferior to her in the office. Years later my mother met her purely by chance. My mother sensed a kind of yearning in her for a chance to see her children and permission to interact with them once in a while. But unfortunately she could not muster courage enough to do so.

With such stories doing the rounds it was no wonder that I grew up believing that opting for love marriages was indicative of a selfish mind where one placed self interest above all else. I wish I were in a position to say arranged marriages were mostly successful. Far from it I have known brilliant minds compromising in the name of marriage and any adjustment made was often one sided.

Years rolled on and I was too involved with my career and children to pay attention to subtle changes taking place in society. Suddenly I find the world around me a changed place. Children are comfortable choosing their life partners and their choice is based on what their head says rather than the dictates of the heart. There is a lot more maturity and a willingness to adapt. All aspects are considered before taking the final plunge and we seem to be back to arranged marriage. The only difference is that it is the couple who decide on the kind of arrangement they want. Try as I might to find fault with their choice, (believe me I still try to defend the role of parents to arrange for a suitable match) I have to agree that the present generation know their mind and are capable of dealing with their lives.

But wait, I was supposed to defend the generation of parents isn’t it? Parents first objected to love marriages. Then they allowed love marriages within their immediate community but objected to anything outside it. They further graduated to the level of allowing interstate marriages as long as the couple subscribed to the same religious belief. Finally they agreed that all was acceptable as long as they were both Indians. Now with the living in relationship becoming common parents have started hoping that their children would at least marry someone and settle down and suddenly the ‘living in’ arrangement doesn’t seem too bad as long as it happened in other people’s homes! But wasn’t it the same for love marriages sometime back? Poor parents. More and more children are leaving home and settling abroad and the rest are too busy to pay attention to the emotional requirements of their parents. They dare not alienate their children lest the occasional visits and weekly phone calls stop. They still arrange their children’s marriage although in a different way.

They talk to the florist and arrange for the best flowers to be delivered on the wedding day.

They shortlist catering services and arrange for the best desi and intercontinental delicacies to be served.

They arrange for a suitable holiday resort where their children may go for their honey moon.

And finally they decide on the kind of wedding rituals they want and make suitable arrangements for the same.

Yet they complain that they were not allowed to arrange their children’s marriage!

I have to add this on a more serious note. Marriage is a gamble that is endorsed by society. It is nothing more than a workable arrangement between two individuals. Whether one listens to the dictates of the head or heart hardly matters. Whether it is an arrangement made by parents or children is immaterial. What is important is that it has to be founded on mutual respect and a willingness to make room for a certain degree of freedom and independence. After all take a look at the soaring branches of a tree and how the same source of light is successfully utilized by each and every leaf of a tree and every tree in an environment. And the root system penetrating the soil uses the same water source without disturbing the roots of neighboring vegetation. Compare roots to cultural values and spreading branches to children looking for new avenues to spread their wings. Do they not play different roles important in their own way but each occupying its own special niche thus complimenting each other?

Tag of blessings

I was tagged by hillg'mom to bless and pray for three of my blog friends and ask them to pass it on to more people thereby spreading goodwill to as many people as one can.I found the idea great something like the 'vazhga valamudan' group in Tamilnadu that prays for the welfare of mankind sending positive vibes to known and unknown people.I quote ukok who started the idea of a blessing tag and I feel inclined to bless and pray for her before anyone else 'cos in these troubled times it is very important to create universal good will and I already feel connected to her.

While it is my wish to bless all who read this blog, for the purposes of starting this little endeavour it is necessary that I ‘bless’ 3 blogfriends, who may in turn ‘bless’ 3 blogfriends.

Let’s use a simple format, and let’s make it even simpler by suggesting that the recipient simply copies and pastes above picture when they become the recipient of a bloggin blessing themselves.

The idea… it’s a game of tag with a difference, rather than looking inwardly, we look outside ourselves and bless, praise and pray for one blog friend. By participating in this endeavour we not only make the recipient of the blessing feel valued and appreciated, but we are having some fun too. We’re going to see how far the bloggin’ blessings can travel around the world and how many people can be blessed! Recipients of a bloggin’ blessing may upload the above image to their sidebar if they choose to. If you recieve a bloggin’ blessin’ please leave a comment on this thread here so that we can rejoice in just how many blessings have been sent around the world.

I've decided however to change the rule a bit and bless five bloggers instead of three as hillg'mom has done.

1.I bless vishesh because I can see that he is ready to take up a course of his choice thus taking the first step towards a great career.

2.I bless lavs who is moving towards motherhood or rather has already moved towards it and pray that her pregnancy may be safe and her bundle of joy enriches her life.

3.I bless Madhumita for the same reason as lavs and pray that she is granted the energy to deal with the 2 other children - yes I consider tys a child too.

4.I bless Usha and pray that her wish that her grand child uses the beautiful furniture in her house comes true soon.

5.I bless Itching to write and pray that she is energized enough to deal with her twin sons and continue to delight us with stories about them.

Of course my prayers and blessings are with all of you but since the chain must continue I stop here.
God bless you all.

The joy of being tagged!

Here are some things that I changed my mind about. Thanks Usha I enjoyed doing it.There is a joy in getting tagged. You run out of ideas and wonder if your readers are going to vote you out. And pop comes a tag that literally makes you think and you make a 'come back' post and feel included.Isn't that wonderful? I was going to bore you guys with teaching experience-4 or 5. Dear readers please thank Usha for saving you from the onslaught.

It is important to be liked by others.

Only to a certain extent. After that one tends to get bored to death. The ‘wicked you’ craves for an outlet and just because you are so likeable you have to literally beam at people and smile when you want to scowl. Can be rather frustrating you know. I’d rather be myself than the most liked person on earth.

Obedience is a virtue.

According to my mother, yes. She had lovely children including me who never back answered her. But then she maintained her dignity and distance. I didn’t. So I have children who started questioning me from the day they learnt to talk and despite the fact that they obey me only when they are suitably convinced I find them lovely too. So I feel obedience or lack of it hardly matters. In interpersonal relationships it is the comfort level that is of utmost importance.

People are not malicious but they become so because of bad experiences or circumstances.

It is all in the genes. People are good or bad due to the genes they inherit. It is their attitude that is at fault. They are people who fail to see the positive side in a situation and end up being mean and malicious. Luckily extremely malicious people are as rare as extremely good ones. Most of us are averages.

Education broadens our view and makes people more humane.

Education and academic qualifications are not the same. A person may be educated by/ from the experiences he is subjected to. Valuable lessons are learnt in simple interactions with those around us. One can have a string of degrees to his/her credit and yet draw a blank where human relationships are concerned.

People who have no money troubles are happier.

The lack of money does create problems that are different to those caused by an excess of it. The latter has more to do with the mind while the former is more physical. I do have to admit that the phase in my life when we faced severe financial strain is not the one that I correlate with unhappiness and misery. Touch wood we are financially better placed but there seems to be some kind of indifference that seems to have set in. Financial security has certainly not made me jump with joy. I hope that I never reach a stage when I have excess of money ‘cos I’ve seen ‘sukh rogis’ who keep worrying about a new outfit for every party they attend and the designer accessories to match their exceptionally unique ‘costumes’. I am happy wrapping a saree or suit of my choice without worrying about what others think about me and I really want ‘not a penny more, nor a penny less’. However, like Usha I did believe that people with money were happier when I was young.

As people get older they get wiser.

I know of several people who have grown old but are as immature and stupid as they were 25 years back with no control over their emotions, driving everyone else crazy. I have also seen youngsters behave in a balanced and dignified manner putting us oldies to shame. Hats off to both groups. I belong to neither. That makes me wonder - ‘Am I wise? Anywhere near it?’

You can live on love and fresh air.

May be during courtship. Since mine was a strictly arranged marriage I wouldn’t know. The first time I went out with my husband, my love was certainly not strong enough to be happy in his company. I insisted that we eat out and he settled for a kulfi. I think I still love him for it.

There is a celestial guardian angel looking after each one of us.

For several years after my father’s death I seemed to feel his presence around me, feeling happy at my achievements and guiding me when I felt low. A little before my wedding I had a dream that he had arrived with a packed suitcase saying that he wished to spend sometime with us. Over the years I’ve continued to believe that he is up there in heaven blessing and guiding us.

All living beings reincarnate.

I do not subscribe to this belief at all. It seems to endorse wickedness with the tormentor getting away with what he does expecting to be punished in a future birth and the victim accepting the torture as a punishment for past misdeeds. No sir/ma’am I am not taking this nonsense as part of my destiny. There is just one life that one lives and let us spend it in peaceful co-existence.


Heaven and Hell are places you go to after death.

I am with Usha in this. ‘No they are right here in on Earth and sometimes in one's own mind.They are not even two different things but two sides of the same thing.’

And finally
I used to believe that man was superior to animals due to his sixth sense but nowadays I feel that animals are better in that they obey the laws of nature and attack either when they are hungry or insecure. Man with his ability to reason seems to be the most unreasonable living being. How else do you explain terrorist acts directed against innocent civilians?

I used to think that Lord Krishna really visited our home on the night of Janmashtami and wanted to catch him stealing butter that my mother religiously left for him in the puja room.

And I still think that my grandfather was the best person known to me and I see God not in the idols in the temple but in my thatha who had never ever spoken ill of another fellow human being, was kind and generous to all and taught us to treat all human beings with the dignity they deserve. This is one belief that is going to be with me always.

Everyone who reads this post is tagged. But I specially invite prats, hillg’mom and madhumita to do it.

Teaching and learning.

I sometimes wonder whether the rules of teaching and learning have changed. For instance children seem to be fast losing interest in self study. We have students in undergrad classes who ask for a book to help them draw diagrams whereas our teachers would insist on observing the specimen and draw diagram freehand. I was myself the most unsuited candidate to take up Botany as my main subject. Till my 11th boards I’d leave blank spaces for diagrams that would seldom get filled up. Those were days when one had to opt between Biology and Mathematics and I chose the former ‘cos I wanted to try for a seat in a medical college. At the end of my Pre-university course I was so disillusioned and disappointed with Biology that I refused to even apply for a course in medicine much to my grandfather’s disappointment. Again I made a wrong choice and opted to study Botany as my Major. In the first year each practical class was a nightmare with teachers rejecting every diagram I drew and finding fault with every slide preparation. We would spend at least 2 hours each evening ‘neat lining’ our diagrams and stop once by the chapel and then turn towards the Rock fort temple to seek divine intervention before leaving for college for our record work to be signed by our teachers without much ado. The effort paid off and today my B. Sc. Record is good enough to be shown to any one for reference. I try the same with my students and with the exception of a few most wish to be given prepared notes and diagrams and if I insist, manage to remain seated in the class till the bell rang and turn in their record with neatly copied diagrams from the book which at times are very different to those actually observed. I need to be grateful to them for not boycotting my class or walking out in the midst of one.

‘Now these are students’, I tell myself. ‘They will have to learn when their turn to teach comes’. But I was surprised when a teacher had a different take in the matter.

The Ranchi University Youth Festival was nearing its conclusion and the President of the student’s union was asked to address the gathering. The young man had earlier spoken on 3 occasions in 2 days. I felt that he was a good orator and whatever he said made sense. I felt that the students’ choice had been good and here was a young man who would perhaps take genuine interest in problems facing the student community and perhaps aim at solving them. On each of these occasions he spoke in chaste Hindi and to the point. But not so this time. He opted to speak in English, perhaps goaded by friends, and it was evident that he was not in command of the language. In his enthusiasm he ended up saying the exact opposite of what he wanted to say at times. For instance instead of saying “Students lack basic facilities in some colleges” he said “students lack basic problems in some colleges”. I lamented that he could have stuck to Hindi instead of switching over to a language that he was not familiar with. A teacher from another college who was seated by my side was quick to defend him.

“Why don’t you appreciate that he is at least trying?” she said. “How will he learn if he did not try?”

“This is the concluding session of the youth festival” I said “and he is addressing the students as their president. Can he afford to be misunderstood?”

“Please remember that English is not his mother tongue and it is natural to make mistakes when one tries something new.”

I did not pursue the conversation but I was certainly confused. Students who ought to try to understand their subject and prepare their own notes resort to guess papers and student’s guides and they choose to learn a new language not by participating in debates and discussions at their college level but by addressing a gathering at the University level at the expense of being misunderstood. I was genuinely concerned over his lack of fluency and my colleague was openly appreciative of his efforts. Which of us were right?

New year tag

Sango tagged me and has asked me to reveal what I would to say to the person I was on 1st Jan.2007.A difficult one but let me try.I'll call myself pram2008 and I'd be addressing pram2007.

pram2008:you asked for just 10 minutes at the end of 2006 and you were granted a whole year.I see that you haven't moved an inch.what were you upto eh?

pram2007:I may not have moveded an inch but I've certainly gained a few pounds. isn't that something to show? After all despite my age my system is able to assimilate and store food.

pram2008:You were supposed to put your papers in order and inform your children of your investments.Have you even started on it?

pram2007:I meant to do it. Honestly. I'll do it once the weather warms up a little. It is rather cold now and that husband of mine....keeps stuffing things into different folders. He,he...... we're made for each other you see.

pram2008:what about your plans to coach a few needy children at least twice a week?

pram2007:The needy children need to be spoonfed. I hadn't done it for my children.I certainly can't encourage the practice now. It is too late in the day for me to change my ways. If they start to work on their own I am willing to work on them.I haven't given up.

pram2008:A whole year has gone by and what have you got to show apart from your age and weight?

pram2007:why not? I met artnavy,usha and eve's lung in person and spoke to ITW over the phone. After 5 years the government has relented and has declared us demonstrators and at the age of 57 I attended an interview along with youngsters who were younger than my youngest child. Why don't you recognize the optimist in me? Forever criticizing........:-((

pram2008:okay,okay. Healthy criticism has not harmed anyone and it won't harm you too. You need to grow up don't you? Afterall you are now a grandma and have 2 cute grandaughters looking up to you. you wrote a post on 'Going back in time........ You want to give your grandkids something to remember you by don't you? And please for God's sake off load all unwanted items to needy people. You have so much unwanted stuff. And stop irritating that husband of yours. He is a simple family man and let him be.

pram2007:What do you mean? The man irritates me by his constant channel surfing habit and you blame me? Ah! that reminds me. I resolve to get a new TV for myself or else I'd be pushed back to the era before TV entered our lives. Good bye!

pram2008:G'bye for now. will be back in a year's time and you better have something to show as progress.

Thanks sango. I enjoyed doing it.I think I'll ask anyone interested to carry this forward. Tys you can do a great job of it. May I tag you??

A Happy Sankaranti to all of you.

Tambram customs

This being my first post for 2008, let me begin with my New Year greetings to one and all of you. We had the coldest day in five years this New Year so it was statistically an important day. However it made me curl up in bed doing nothing at all so I am afraid that it was certainly not a great way to celebrate the beginning of the new year. But I kept finding excuses the most plausible one being that I was getting on in age and long before reaching my age my MIL had handed charge of household duties to my SIL and me. I could certainly afford to curl up in bed on the coldest day of the season.

I’ll begin this year with an account of certain uniquely Tambram practices.

1. We can drink hot coffee and tea by pouring it directly into our mouth without actually sipping it. And mind you, there will certainly be no slip between the cup and the lip. The coffee will be poured straight into the throat after being cooled to a suitable temperature which is based on individual preferences and the amount of risk one is willing to take.

2. We can swab the floor moving backwards bending our bodies but not our knees and as children we were taught not to remove our hand from the floor while cleaning up the dining space on the floor till the entire area is done. We would not sprinkle water and wipe the place directly with a swab cloth. We’d first pick up left over food that may have spilled on the floor, then sprinkle water and clean it with our palm and finally wipe it dry with a swab cloth specially marked out for the purpose and finally rinse the cloth and dry it out for future use.

3. There is a custom called ‘pathu’ that was religiously followed by us till about 25 years ago but has been eased out these days. Cooked rice, dal, sabzi and other rice based salted ‘high tea’ delicacies like dosai, idli etc. were declared ‘pathu’. One had to wash one’s hand after touching these items and could not directly touch pickle, milk, curd or other food stuff. Strangely wheat preparations like puri and chapathis were exempted. Uppuma was ‘pathu’ but suji halwa was not. Deep fried items were not ‘pathu’ even if they were rice based. Like the English language where the spelling of ‘put’ and ‘but’ are similar but their pronunciation is different one had to be born a tambram to understand when one needed to wash one’s hand and when it was not required. When I say washing hands after touching certain food items I mean merely touching water with the tip of one’s fingers. I now realize that those were days when refrigeration of left over food was unheard of so all items marked out as pathu tended to spoil fast and this was a precautionary measure to prevent mixing of food.

4. ‘Palaharam’ is what we tambrams consume on days that we are supposed to fast. The variety one consumed after a whole or half a day’s fast would make our digestive machinery work overtime. Deep fried items, sweets and savory dripping with oil/ghee and a whole lot of fruits both dry and fresh would all be served to those on a fast. I’ve often wondered about this contradiction when one actually feasted instead of fasting and actually consumed more food than on normal days. I found an answer when I tried to trace the root of the word ‘palaharam’. It can be split into pala + aaharam. Pala in tamil means several (variety?) so a wide variety of food is served to compensate for the period of fasting. However it could also have meant Phala + aaharam. This means a meal based on fresh fruit. The tamil script does not distinguish between ‘pa’ and ‘pha’. So Tambrams ended up consuming variety food instead of fresh fruits. It makes sense to have fruits since the roughage it provides would clean up the system.

5. Finally the custom of ladies isolating themselves during the time they had their periods. If as one explained, it was started with the aim of allowing them rest from work why were ladies shooed off as if they were outcasts by their elders who had reached their menopause as if it was sin to even see them? Why were they served left over food saying they could be served fresh food only after the men folk and other elderly ladies had finished eating? I personally feel that the reason for starting this practice has been twisted out of context and by giving it a religious overtone women were made to feel inadequate and inferior. One possible reason could be to indirectly keep track of an unmarried girl’s periods for whatever reason.
I hear that these customs were followed in other groups too. I welcome inputs from one and all of you.

Going back in time - Happy New year all the same!

With everyone looking forward to Year 2008 I plan to take you back in time to my grandfather’s place some 45 years back. Yes, to life in a Tambram household that seems so different to the life I lead now.

“Mmmmmaaaaaa……….” Lakshmi the cow calls out almost simultaneously with the milkman’s call from the gate. It is nearing 5 o’clock in the morning and Lakshmi has sensed his presence.

“Amma”……..

My mami or mother would open the gate for him and the day has just begun.

As a child I’d try to keep off all sounds from my ears to catch a few more minutes of sleep. No way. The entire neighborhood has woken up and one has no option but to do in Rome as the Romans do. With sleepy eyes we look for the ‘Nanjangud’ tooth powder with a slightly sweet and refreshing taste and proceed to the inner courtyard or ‘mitham’ where a specific corner is marked out for the purpose. A huge brass vessel called ‘jodothavalai’ has already been properly cleaned with tamarind pulp and filled with water from the well. Till date I wonder how the ladies of the house, so methodical in their regular duties, could start the day with such energy. Between you and me, I need the coffee provided by my husband to even think of what has to be done on a particular day. I secretly hope that he sleeps an hour longer but no, the man is up at 5 in the morning and starts waking me up as if I am a school going kid who needs to get ready by 6:30 A.M. But I’ll keep that for a later post.

So, where was I?? Oh yes we were brushing our teeth with Nanjangud tooth powder and coffee is already ready. Mama would buy coffee powder, freshly ground in 250 gram packs, every alternate day so as to have fresh coffee in the morning. School going children would be given milk and my mother would begin calling out to my brothers who needed no wake up call. They would have had a bath by now and with a broad band of vibhuti smeared across their forehead have already started memorizing their tables.

“The boiler is on. Will the next one go for a bath? The water will turn cold. Don’t forget to pour a bucketful of cold water for the next person. And shove in some dried palm leaves to keep it burning.” calls my mother who has already had a bath and with a wet sari wrapped around her frail body she has started the tedious process of filling water for cooking and drinking purposes.

The motor is on, Moopachi the servant maid has arrived with her brood of school going grandchildren to assist her and our cook Narayana mama has started cooking on the firewood hearth. It is just around six in the morning and the day’s news paper has just arrived. My grandfather and the older cousins who shared his room on the first floor have arrived on the scene.

With around ten school going grandchildren vying for their slot in the bathroom my grandfather opts to bathe by the well. He washes his clothes himself. Moopachi would monitor the activities of her grandchildren treating them to a slap or two as occasion demanded. They would clean up the cowshed gathering cow dung in a bamboo basket to be made into cakes for use as fuel. They would then soak the vessels in water after having emptied the left over food in vessels of their own and take care of the sweeping and swabbing of the house. Moopachi would wash the portico and the pathway leading to the gate and finally sprinkle a generous mixture of dung and water at the gateway and finally call out to one of us to adorn it with a massive rangoli to welcome goddess Lakshmi into the house. We dared not disobey her or delay our response. She had as much authority over us as with her grandkids.

“Which mother in law is going to put up with your lazy ways?” she’d demand. “A little house work will not harm you.”

Since I’d be there on a vacation from school or college I’d be regularly treated to a piece of her mind. She would expect me to help her with washing clothes and send me to supervise the granddaughter who swept the rooms in the first floor. I felt that my brothers and the other boys had an easy time at her hands for they were never assigned chores. She’d wash vessels and spread them out in the sun, brass vessels sparkling like gold and steel ware would appear as though they were up for sale. Clothes would be dried out without a crease and her grandchildren would breakfast on left over food before leaving for school. Such was her loyalty and managerial skills that she’d never put up with shoddy work and would make them do the work all over again if it was not done to her satisfaction.

Finally the war of words between the cook and Moopachi would begin.

“You call this coffee?? Worse than gutter water. How does he expect the children to eat this food? No taste at all. I wonder how the master manages to eat this kind of food?”

The cook would rush out ladle in hand.

“Do you think I am being paid to cook for your grandchildren? Who asks you to bring them any way? The entire family feeds on our left over food and look at their cheek. They have the audacity to criticize my culinary skills. I’ll see to it that you are thrown out.”

“We’ve been serving this family for more than forty years and you new comer ……….pooh! what would you know about our loyalty? Try filling the master’s head against me and you’d be thrown out before you know it.”

“I’ll deal with you later after the master leaves for court.” Narayan mama would finally give in.

In the meanwhile the ladies of the house would divide work among themselves. The one who bathed early would help in the kitchen and the others would get the children ready for school. The girls would line up to have their hair oiled, combed and plaited tight. The mother or aunt who sat down with oil and comb would run her fingers across the forehead of each child as a sign of blessing so it was customary for us to turn around and let them do it before getting up. Breakfast would be curd rice and pickle usually tender mangoes in salt water. I remember the principal of our school attributing the intelligence of Tambrams to the curd rice they consumed for breakfast.

Vessels washed by the servant would never be stacked without being rinsed with water filled by the lady of the house after having bathed. Her sanctity was complete only if she wore clothes hung out of reach on a wire tied to nails or hooks that almost touched the ceiling. A bamboo pole was used to dry out and/or remove clothes from their aerial position. As children we’d feel depressed at not being allowed to touch our mothers till she had recited her slokas and offered food to the Gods. This self imposed quarantine was called ‘Madi’ and my mother being a strict follower of rules would confine herself to the kitchen and pooja room till she had her food.

“May I touch you?” I’d ask even as a sixteen year old as if I wanted to sleep on her lap.

Children’s clothes washed by the servant could be dried out by her but she’d leave my mother’s clothes as well as that of my mami to be rinsed again in sanctified water and dried out by them. Initially we had to ask for water to drink because we’d never be sure as to which vessel contained water that had been used for cooking. We could not drink out of it before food had been duly offered to god. Later my mother would fill a brass pot with water and leave it in the dining area with strict instructions not to immerse spittled glasses unwashed hands into it. We older ones were expected to take care of these things. In my enthusiasm to learn to cook I sometimes offered to relieve my mother or mami of duties in the kitchen after Narayan Mama passed away and the family decided not to replace him. I wasn’t easy to remain confined to the kitchen for hours and I kept forgetting that even if I entered the drawing room or bedroom I was not supposed to sit on the sofa or touch bed linen.

Meals would be served at ten in the morning and tiffin at two or three in the afternoon. School going children would come home for lunch and be treated to a filling evening meal on their return. In a way there seemed to be a continuous routine being followed one merging into the other. Modern gadgets were not available and grinding, cleaning etc were done in the afternoons. Yet there was no indication that the women were over worked. Division of labor was such that they took turns to relax. They would do embroidery work, prepare papad/vadams pickles and still have time for an occasional social visit. Lessons of adjustment and peaceful co existence were easily imbibed and the journey to an independent existence had already begun albeit in an insignificant manner.

True, demands of society vary with time and all this may not make sense in the 21st century but a glimpse into my past has rekindled fond memories and makes me wish to go back in time. If only that were possible……..

Defending the indefensible??

A lot has been said about the use of cell phones in colleges and how far a teacher is supposed to go with her role as a disciplinarian etc. Who gets to decide these things? A teacher? Then students are bound to cry foul. Students? Then teachers would say that the students were too immature to decide. Parents perhaps? But then the late adolescence is a rebellious one and parent/children communication is at its nadir. Someone has to bear the brunt. 'Bell the cat' as one would say. So let me be the bad person who stifles the freedom of the student community. The old woman who ought to ought to opt for early retirement. Remember that I have already surrendered by calling myself a 'Living Fossil' here.

Kurrodu says-

"It is also important that teachers maintain a good rapport with the students. The importance of this cannot be emphasized enough.

The lack of a healthy relationship between a parent and the kid gives room to these bad influences. A teacher is of great help to such kids."

Very true. I am sorry to say that I seem to be defending the indefensible and there are sadly several teachers who for reasons of their own vent their frustration on innocent children and do irreparable damage to their soaring spirits. The reasons are many but none strong enough to justify their attitude. But a sensitive management can do wonders and no teacher would want to lose his/her job. The government should also have a system in place that monitors aspects such as student/teacher ratio, the number of periods allotted etc. and affiliation of private schools and colleges ought to be withdrawn if teachers are found to be over exploited. If in spite of being given the best facility a teacher is found to be temperamentally unsuited, his/her probation period may be extended and in ultimate cases services may be terminated.

The kid says:- "Even in this case, you made some sweeping assumptions on why the student was charging the cell phone. Which could be true or false, but they were assumptions nevertheless.

There is a zero tolerance, unjust and automatic assumption of guilt, and arbitrary prosecution of students by the teachers."

I agree that these were assumptions but they were not entirely baseless. And our fears are not unfounded. Parents in India continue to worry about their married children who have kids of their own. I know that I do. There are teachers who consider their students similarly and automatically feel responsible for their safety. Let us pamper you while we can. Why grudge us the pleasure? I am sure students can differentiate between genuine concern and a power monger’s display of might.

Vishesh says-

“the funny thing is the purpose of imposing discipline is so that we pass it on...but the fact is there are people who hold other virtues, Well my question is does our society have the capacity for holding so many different views?”

I think he means other views. I feel our society is a fairly tolerant one and one person’s definition of discipline may be different to another’s. Within limits no one minds. But broadly speaking I feel that a student’s mind is very impressionable and needs to be given direction. This can be done by involving them in creative and productive activities and more importantly appreciating their efforts when their pursuits yield the desired results and by giving them a second or third chance if they falter or fail. A judgmental attitude will not help. We have to accept that they are dealing with much more competition and need to prepare themselves accordingly. If a student senses good intentions and has faith in you he/she will not mind an occasional dressing down and these are the very people who will see to it that others follow rules. I have shared my experience here and I have seen it when we take students out on study tours.

If we say “you can go out on your own but return by 8 in the evening”, chances are that they will return before the stipulated time to live up to the faith you place on them. But they have to be convinced that you mean well.

Preethi says-

“i mean society as in parents, teachers the whole rigamole) can’t teach responsibility and caution at what 18-19? will they ever learn?? I doubt it unless they are burnt?? After all college going students are adults!!”

Quite right. College students are almost adults at the undergrad level. They must be allowed to learn from their mistakes. But burns can be of varying degrees. A singe or a mild scald is okay. But what if chances are that it may result in a third degree burn that may take years to heal and cause a permanent scar? Would it not be wiser to impose rules or issue stern warnings than to allow them to walk into danger zones and trust them to retreat at the appropriate time? I am sure this argument is going to evoke strong responses from my young readers but I’d still risk it.

Finally NSK says-

“This is convincing, but don't we have too much of distractions in today’s environment that boundaries are easily broken?”

This was exactly the purpose of my writing this post and the previous one. Too many distractions is all the more reason why youth energy needs to be given proper outlet and direction. The girl mentioned in the post is a smart and intelligent girl who could be an asset to her family and society provided her energy is channelized. She is not a Science student but even without have interacted much with her I could make out that we were dealing with a very smart girl. Could we afford to let her think that it was okay to be manipulative or that being smart and devious were the same?

There have been times when I have scolded students for being late. Pooja was one such girl who walked in when the practical class was almost over. When reprimanded she was very rude in her response.

“You come by car ma’am. How would you understand what it means to wait for hours to board a bus?”

She was almost in tears.

“You have to leave home sufficiently early. This excuse will not hold” I said.

She sat sulking for half an hour. Realizing her mistake she came again to ask if I’d explain the practical to her and I did as if nothing had transpired. From that day I could sense a positive change in her attitude towards me. It was the same with another girl Jyoti and there have been more cases when a mild rebuke has actually strengthened the bond between me and my students. As I’ve said before they have to be convinced that one means well. And dealing with bright children has never been easy.

A merry X'mas and a Happy New year to all of you.

Hi all,
I meant to highlight the fact that youth energy needs to be channelized by narrating the incident. Unfortunately importance is being given to use of cell phones in the college premises. Now that the question has cropped up let me clarify.

Our college bans USE of cell phones not bringing them. In the college they can always use it with permission in case of emergency and once out of campus no one goes checking whether they are using or misusing it. Most of our students belong to middle class homes and students cannot afford to spend money on unnecessary phone calls and we trust them to use it prudently. I agree that just because of a few over smart ones all students are being punished but can it be helped? Doesn't it always happen that way?

We are aware that girls like S.....N.... are quite capable of looking after themselves. We are more worried about the innocent ones who may be influenced by their peers who may mislead them. I do not have any conclusive evidence to prove my point but in a recent program conducted for teachers on World AIDS day it was pointed out that college girls clad in burkhas regardless of their religious affiliation regularly met boys at a crossroad near the YMCA office and sped off in two wheelers to a nearby park. They are doing this during college hours and one need not be a Perry Mason to understand that their families are unaware of their activities. The use of electricity to charge their phones is not as objectionable as the fact that they seem to own cell phones unknown to their parents. If it were not so why would they charge the phone as soon as they arrived? The next question is who is providing them with mobile phones and why? Are the smarter ones being used to trap other vulnerable girls? These are concerns that bother me as a teacher. I quote the kid who says

The teachers/lecturers are threatened by the cell phone usage, be it the rapid advancement that the teachers are not able to keep up or the wealth associated with it.

He further adds-

What exactly do you achieve by banning these things? a sense of superiority?It is neither. It is just a genuine concern for those innocent girls in their teens or early twenties who have been a part of my working life.

A certain amount of discipline needs to be imposed on students in our effort to prepare them for life. Schools do not allow boys to sport a beard or grow their hair. Girls are expected to plait their hair or tie it up. They are made to wear uniforms so that the poorer ones may not feel inferior just because they don’t wear designer wear. A boy or girl does not become more or less intelligent on account of his hairstyle. But rules are laid down and no one objects. An undergrad is only a year or two older. He/she needs to be gradually initiated into adulthood and a little discipline will not harm them and teachers are not their enemies. On the day of the interview I stayed back with the placement in charge till 7 in the evening and we left only after the last girl left college. We arranged for them to go in groups and requested the few guardians who had come over to escort the girls who lived in their neighborhood. We were accountable for all 22 of them. They are likely to take up jobs in a year or two but we still felt responsible for their safety. Yet Pratap says that

‘Teachers in India cannot handle the responsibility.’

When my son was young the rule was that he had to come home by seven in the evening. If he did not turn up I went downstairs to fetch him home. He hated it then but I went all the same. He appreciates it now.

When my daughters were young it was understood that they could not stay out after dark but when later when my older daughter got a job in a metro I trusted her to look after herself. Once values are imbibed and boundaries are drawn our duty is done and they can decide and discriminate be they children or students. Till then we have to keep a watch on them however unpopular our stand. After all is that not part of life?

Teaching Experience-4

When I started out on my previous post I meant to write about a lighter side of my teaching experience. However, my anguish took over and I lamented the changing values of society and the lack of motivation that seems to prevent talented youngsters from taking up the teaching profession at the school and undergrad levels. I had written a related post some time back here.

As for college teachers, there seems to be two categories. Those that work as ad hoc teachers in the innumerable private colleges where they are paid on a per class basis and terminated before the vacations and others who receive UGC benefits. In my own college we have a good number of ad hoc teachers who are not paid anything at all and depend on tuitions for their survival. Is it any wonder that they have marked out their areas and students throng their classes for the notes they provide? There seems to be a symbiotic understanding and both groups benefit. Our college being in the heart of the city a number of coaching centers thrive in the neighborhood and students are given notes keeping in mind the questions that are likely to be asked in the examination. Reference work in the college library?? Who has the time? The students are busy preparing for entrance exams and job interviews and a teacher who gives concise notes is the one that is most sought after. I am sorry to be cribbing and the only way to get over my foul mood is to harp on the lighter side of my teaching experience. What cannot be cured may as well be endured.

On the day we had our placement interview the teacher in charge of the placement cell was asked by the visiting team to allot a hall where one of their team mates would conduct the first round of interview. She stepped into a lecture hall and found two students charging their cell phones while simultaneously talking to someone over the phone. They were so engrossed in their conversation that they did not see her enter.

Our college does not permit the use of cell phone in the college. The reasons need to be dealt with in a separate post so I shall not elaborate. Our honors students carry cell phones but keep it either switched off or in the vibration mode. In case of an emergent call they check the number and talk with our permission for a minute or two. Even when they go on study tour they abide by our instruction and talk only once a day to their parents just to inform them that they are fine. These girls were not only breaking the rule but were endangering their lives by talking while their phone was being charged. That they were using the electricity for which the college was paying did not seem to concern them at all. The placement officer confiscated the phone and asked them to meet her with their parents the following day. One of the girls realized the futility of trying to coax the teacher to return the cell phone. Not so the other girl.

At first she claimed that the mobile phone was not hers and it belonged to a friend who had asked her to receive an important call on her behalf. The friend was waiting outside the room but refused to come in when called. After sometime she corrected herself and said that the phone was her own and pleaded that it be returned to her promising never to use it in college.

“Ask your parents to meet me. I will return the phone to them.” said my colleague.

“My parents would think that I’ve lent it to someone or lost it.”

“Give them my cell number. I’ll confirm the fact that I have the phone.”

Not knowing how to respond the girl went away. In the meantime there were frantic calls from a particular number that my colleague ignored. We later came to know that within minutes of confiscating the phone our Principal got a call from the Student Union leader of a boy’s college briefing her of the situation and asking her to advise the concerned teacher to return the phone.

The girl returned in about half an hour’s time along with an elderly gentleman and a young man who appeared to be in his early twenties. She introduced them as her uncle and brother.

“I did not ask you to bring them. I am busy today and I will only meet your parents and that too tomorrow” said the teacher.

“I am her brother ma’am” said the boy.

“Will you both please stay out of the room?” said the placement in charge. “I will have nothing to do with you. I will talk to her parents if and when they come.”

“Ma’am, my father in Saudi Arabia and cannot come. My mother is not a very confident person. She avoids talking to strangers. I have brought my uncle. Why don’t you talk to him?”

“Did your father leave for Arabia after I seized your phone? I will have none of this nonsense. Either your parents come to meet me or you forego your cell phone. The choice is yours.”

During the entire conversation the elderly gentleman remained silent but on seeing that the teacher was unrelenting he started saying that since his brother was in Arabia it was not possible for him to come in person. My colleague interrupted him mid sentence.

“Sir, I am not her enemy. Please let me deal with her the way I deem fit”.

In the meantime the Principal was under pressure from different quarters to ask her placement in charge to return the phone. Finally the girl approached her but she refused to intervene saying that it was a busy day and she could not disturb the placement committee. While the girl was talking to her the man who had posed as the girl’s uncle asked to meet the principal regarding his daughter’s admission.

“It is already December. All admissions are closed.” She said. Around this time our bursar who had been with us when the girl brought him in as her uncle, walked into the Principal’s chamber.

“Aren’t you S…….. N……’s uncle?” she asked.

The Principal who had his application in hand looked confused.

“This is Mr. T…….. and how could he be S……. N…..’s uncle?”

It so happened that the girl was a muslim and this gentleman was clearly a Hindu. The man muttered something and hastened out of the room. The boy was also not her real brother but an actor playing his role in the drama.

The girl was not going to give up that soon. After college hours when the Principal came to see how our girls were faring in the interview, the girl approached the placement in charge once again in the presence of the Principal. She now brought her friend who actually owned the cell phone. The friend cried as if some irreparable damage had been done to her. For whatever reason, she did not want to involve her parents. She kept apologizing and promised never to repeat the mistake. Finally at the behest of the Principal the Placement in charge returned the cell phone after a severe warning.

We could make out that these girls were rather intelligent. Who else could think of convincing strangers to pose as her uncle and brother? Right or wrong, the student union is also quick to defend them. All I wish is that this immense potential is channelized to purposeful activities.

Enjoy this

these were beautiful pictures sent by my cousin.too good to miss.

some more here for you to enjoy

Teaching Experience-3

We recently had IBM visit our campus to recruit candidates for their call centre. We were glad that 22 of our students were selected. It also underscored the fact that regular course study was taking a beating and aptitude /logical reasoning and basic intelligence is the requirement of the day. The next big question is whether we are going to find good teachers to train young minds or are we going to make do with those who were left behind and could not land good job? At least 13 of the selected candidates were science students 8 from the Biology stream and 5 from the Maths group. The choice was unmistakably fair and these were the best the college had to offer. It was not as if the company settled for the best among the bad lot. Some of these girls had made it to Wipro also and the company did not select a single candidate from another college in town. Some of our students are doing their masters from another local college and the best among them were also selected. This brings up the next question. If young minds are going to be lured into taking lucrative jobs in multinationals where the course they’ve studied is not being put to use is it not time we revised and restructured the course?

I remember a batch we had 2 years back. The final year students would attend classes only on the days they had practicals. After the practical class was over they would excuse themselves to go to the canteen and vanish from there. We had a kind of counseling session with them but at the end of it was they who counseled us in their own way. They were all either attending coaching classes for MBA admission or taking lessons in Computer centres. They saw no future in our outdated syllabus and they took admission in our college since a degree was the minimum requirement for an IT job, a bank PO’s post or for admission to an MBA program. I felt certain that their results would suffer and tried to reason that some companies did not even let second divisioners apply for a job.

“We can manage madam” was the reply. “this is only a repetition of what we learnt in 12th standard and we have no intention of doing our masters or going in for research.”

The fact that struck me odd was that the girls who were vocal were also the most focused and they all managed to get a first class. They are pursuing their studies in reputed institutes outside the state where campus selection ensures that they land good jobs.

My friend and colleague Dr. K. Shukla made a very pertinent observation. She went to attend a pre registration seminar in the PG department of Botany with a candidate who wanted to do research under her. The Post Graduate students seemed to be a disinterested lot with no quest for knowledge and seemed to be there just because they had no better option. She remembered her own days as student in the same department and rued the fact that lack of motivation had perhaps led to such a situation.

My experience as a novice was very encouraging. We did not have an honors course then but pass course students showed a keen interest that delighted us. Their depth of knowledge was amazing. One could not misinform them and get away with it. We’d have animated discussions about the evolutionary trends of living organisms and try to find the affiliations among different groups. I did my masters around that time and I was greatly helped by my interaction with these students since teaching was the best way to learn. Our first Honors batch produced excellent results with 7 out of 8 students securing a first division. I don’t remember them ever missing a class. Many of them got married and their daughters and nieces are now our students. The priorities of the present generation have changed in keeping with times. My only regret is that we already have a dearth of good teachers in Physics and Mathematics. Soon good Biology teachers may also disappear from the scene and when it happens what is going to be the future of the teaching profession? I am not in a position to comment on Arts and Commerce students but I guess it is the same there too.Or am I perhaps over reacting?

My next post will deal with a lighter side of my teaching experience. Do forgive this rather serious post. Couldn't help it.

One with Nature.

The years gone by.........

This is part II of the tag by Dipali. A list of 10 things that I miss from the years gone by. Well the very thought makes me nostalgic-

I miss the quiet confidence that my mother exhibited when we were growing up. A frail women with failing eyes but sharp intelligence, she was a wonderful combination of polite manners and a steely heart. Her advice when heeded always fetched the desired result. I haven’t met anyone quite like her. She never demanded respect, she got it without asking. In short she commanded it.

I miss my mother in law who taught me to respect the woman in me. She’d defend me against my husband and shoo him off in matters that she strongly felt were best dealt with by women. She was the one who taught me that one had to speak out to be heard unlike my mother who believed that her silence said much more than her words. I am indeed lucky to have been groomed by two wonderful women.


I really and truly miss the jasmine flowers that were a part of me during my college days. I’d buy flowers every evening wear it after freshening up, remove it and carefully place them in a wet handkerchief and wear them to college the next day. The stuff that passes off for jasmines in Jampot has no fragrance and I don’t wear them at all.

I miss the days in my grandfather’s house when we cousins would gather during vacations and live like one big family. We did not have any of the modern means of entertainment yet we had a fulfilling time.

I miss the time when my children were in their primary school and trusted me to solve their little problems. The attitude was ‘if mom is around things would be okay.’ Now that they’ve realize that mommy is not the super woman they thought she was, I feel a wee bit unwanted and under utilized. I guess this is natural but I miss it all the same.

I miss not having my daughters around to pitch in and help where ever possible. I have this habit of starting something, remembering something else and finally feeling frustrated with a number of chores in hand, all half done. I’ve always had them taking over and relieving me of the monotony of house keeping. Nowadays I make do with things that are absolutely essential since I know that no one is going to take over from where I left.

Strangely I miss the time when money was short and every little pleasure was a luxury. We then had something to look forward to and we appreciated the value of every penny spent. Today my affordability has increased but the pleasure is gone. With limited money we’d think of the needs of each member of our family first and place ourselves last. But we never felt deprived or wanting. I cannot understand this paradoxical turn that my life has taken.

I miss the mountains; I mean the Nilgiri hills where I spent 4 years of my life in a boarding school. Those were the formative years that made me what I am today. I had led a very protected life till then but it was there that I learnt the meaning of ‘survival of the fittest’ and peaceful co existence. A stint in the hostel taught me more than what I could have ever learnt at home.

As a child we’d sleep outdoors on hot summer nights and awaken to the chirps and cooing of innumerable birds. Strangely I seem to miss their melodious sounds when I go for my morning walk. Where have all the birds gone/ And what have we done to our environment? The ecological balance, I am afraid, has been badly disturbed And the consequences are not going to be good.

Since this is part II of an earlier tag I ask the same group to carry it forward.

On being sixty..........

I’ve been tagged by Dipali to reveal ten things I want to do before I turn sixty. She also wants me to enlist ten things I miss from the years that have gone by. I’ll do it in two parts and here’s Part I about things I want to do in the next three years. Oh my God! I seem to be running out of time. Thanks Dipali for bringing it to my notice.

I want to learn web trading about which the whole world seems so excited. I hear that housewives in Bihar start their day checking out details of their investment and performance of their stocks and there are tutorials where the ‘trick of the trade’ is taught. I feel a misfit with a capital M so I’ve decided to know what it is all about. If it is not interesting by my standards, then I can always return to blogging.

My son recently sprang a surprise by paying a visit unannounced. He came around 10 in the evening (night perhaps?) and as usual the shock of suddenly seeing him in flesh and blood caused a kind of mental block and I did not know how to react. If he had expected me to shed copious tears of joy and hug him in true bollywood style, I am sorry to have disappointed him. I stood staring at him and finally asked him if he wanted to have coffee or prefer to have dinner straight away as if he had returned after an evening out with friends. He was visiting me after a year and 9 months and had come all the way from the US of A. I AM going to get rid of this stupid habit of saying things out of context. I was indeed delighted to see him and may as well learn to say it in words. He is my son and would probably understand but if he brings home a wife, she’s bound to consider me nuts.

I am really and truly going to learn to use both hands while typing. I use only one finger and to be frank I am in awe of school going kids type as if they learnt to use computers while in their mommy’s tummy.

Like Dipali I too want to get rid of hundreds of things that clutter my house. We have so much of unwanted stuff that could be given to others who could put them to good use. But my husband has an inborn affection for all things that were ‘bought with great difficulty’ and refuses to part with anything that was bought by his parents or himself. He also won’t let me throw off things that my mother gave me because she also must have given them to me under ‘very difficult’ circumstances. How do I explain to him that before the IT boom we all led difficult lives and while I appreciate his concern I need to give away things from time to time? It has a kind of soothing effect on my troubled nerves and helps control my soaring blood pressure? Any suggestion to the effect would make him file a divorce suit since he would consider me unworthy of his affection. I cannot think of a better soul mate. So before I turn 60 I plan to learn to treat every unwanted item with the affection it deserves. This includes the blunt knife with a red handle which he uses to cut coconut.

On a serious note I want to start a lending library for the children in our complex. The reading habit is perhaps missing among many of those kids. I want them to enjoy reading good books very much the way I did as a child.

I want to get more involved with the projects undertaken by Adarsh Seva Sansthan an NGO group operating in Jamshedpur. They are concentrating on creating awareness against female feticide. I want to spare some more time for them.

I want to set aside some money towards enabling a deserving child from the economically underprivileged class to buy brand new books and other study material at the beginning of the academic year.

I think I’ll pamper myself with a Kerala style massage and a steam bath in a spa before I turn 60. I hear that it does wonders to one’s health.

I am indeed going to spoil my grand children sick by being the indulgent grand mother and together we’d irritate their mothers who would not be able to do a thing about it. Wow! The very thought is so fulfilling.

And finally I am going to try and get my papers filed and put in order. It is going to be difficult but has to be done nonetheless. I have a good agent who deals with all the paper work rather well but I too need to do my bit.

I think I’ll tag Usha, hillg’mom, madhumita and altoid to reveal what they plan to do before they step into the next decade of their lives. Anyone else who wants to take it up is welcome to do so.

The wicked 'me'!

There have been incidents when I’ve been deliberately wicked. How did Itching to write ever come to know of it? The sixth sense at work perhaps? She’s tagged me to reveal the evil ‘me’ so here I go.

My husband once blasted me for not being able to find a comb to comb his receding hair or whatever was left of it. All the while the comb was lying right in front of him. I decided then that he should go without a comb for the rest of his life. I hid every comb in the house including the pocket combs that I got for Navaratri. The poor man cannot ‘see’ things that are right in front of him. From where would he find a hidden comb? He’d find my hair combed and tied up but could not bring himself to ask for one. He simply ran his fingers through his hair and looked around to see if by some magic a comb would fall into his hand from nowhere. I was certainly not relenting. This went on for 3 days when unknown to me he noticed me extracting a comb from my purse. The next day I saw his hair in place and realized that he had indeed outsmarted me. I still wonder why he didn’t go to a nearby shop and buy himself a comb? Wouldn’t it have been better than pulling a long face as if the whole world had turned against him. I would have done that if I had been in his place. Another gender rule I suppose. ‘Do what you want all your life, when things go wrong blame your wife.’

The former Principal of our college once withdrew the facility of using the telephone from her office even in emergency situations. We finally agreed to pay and use it. She kept a small ‘hundi’ near her table and staff members would drop two rupees into it before using it. Many self respecting staff members preferred to go to a pay phone booth to using the telephone in her office. Those were days before mobile phones had become popular. I’d deliberately go to her office, dial up a non existent number or insert a 25 or 50 paise coin and talk for at least 10 minutes.

When I first learnt to drive a car I used to get nervous when people overtook me without a warning.So when I gained confidence I’d make it a point not to give a pass to any one who wanted to overtake without indicating. ‘If you want to overtake, you better take my permission.’ I’ve gotten over that phase now.

When my brother in law visited us he’d listen to loud music of his choice on the internet till about two in the night. I deliberately disabled the connection and the poor man did not even suspect foul play. I felt lousy for being mean and enabled it after two days. That is also a problem with me. I start feeling bad for the target of my wickedness and end up relenting.

There have been other occasions when on an after thought I’ve felt that I should have retaliated in this or that manner when I was at the receiving end of atrocious behavior. But I never really have been able to do so. An acquaintance of mine often cites the following example-

A dominating relative of his would often visit them, have her way in everything, act mean to the entire family and leave everyone depressed by the end of her visit. The moment she left there would be a buzzing sound in the house. People would form groups and the conversation would be something like this-

“It would take me a minute to give her a fitting reply. I just controlled myself.”

“I almost said ‘this’ or ‘that’ but I kept quiet. Then what would be the difference between me and her?”

The truth is that most of us are happy being good. It is so much easier. We take the liberty of being wicked with those who are either very close to us or those who don’t matter at all. On the occasions mentioned above I did get a sadistic pleasure at least temporarily. It was like being someone else. Have I told you that I liked Ravan’s acting better than Ram’s in Ramanand Sagar’s Ramayan? I do hope the real Ram was not like Arun Govil’s lifeless depiction of the character. Remember, our mythological character was not only a good and just king but also a valiant soldier. And with his plastic smile Arun Govil hardly looked either of them!

To write or not to write??

Eve's lung tagged me to write about things I wanted to write about but could not get to actually doing it.Here I go-

I wanted to write about the young girl in Gawahati who was stripped and molested by those opposing a protest rally by students. I could not bring myself to express in words the agony I felt.This was an instance where words truly failed me.I hang my head in shame that this happens in a country where women are worshiped as Devis.

I wanted to write about a tyrant of a Principal who would treat her employees as if they were her bonded laborers to the extent of holding back their salaries to show how powerful she was.But then I decided that she was not worth a mention let alone a post.I prefer to write about those poor people who stood up to her against all odds.

I wanted to write about my colleagues who were given their full salary after 14 long years.Here again I found myself groping for words unable to express their joy in the right words.But I felt elated that the powers that be finally relented.Ihad written about them here

I wanted to write beautiful poems like Vishesh. But unfortunately they don't sound right.So I leave it to him to delight us with his pieces.

I wanted to write a piece on life in a typical Tambram home some 40 years back.I haven't done it out of sheer laziness.May be I'll do it one day.

I wanted to write about arranged marriages from a parent's perspective.I dare not do so for fear of alienating a good number of my readers.So I keep my views to myself.You my readers are too precious to lose.

I hope I have done justice to the tag.I invite anyone interested to carry it forward.

Adoption laws??

Adoption of children by a childless couple has been happening since time immemorial. There are contradictory opinions about whether the adopted child should be told about his/her adopted status or not. If yes then when is the right time to divulge the information? The reactions of the human mind are strange and unpredictable and there is no guarantee that the child is going to react positively to the news if and when it is disclosed. They say blood is thicker than water. But is it really so? Don’t the years of nurture put in by the adopted parents count? I have the example of a few cases that make me conclude that the adopted parents are lucky if their wards take the news well but it would be better to be prepared for the worst.

I do not know their names so I have decided to give them names of my choice. On second thoughts I feel that naming them is not that important. This could happen to any of us whether our child is adopted or not.

I met the mother and daughter some 12 years back when I went to a friend’s place on invitation during Navaratri. They were visitor's at my friend's place having come there on a short vacation from New Delhi. The child was about 5 years old and unless otherwise mentioned one would not realize that she was adopted. Unfortunately the father had died soon after the child’s first birthday but the child was a source of joy and the mother worked hard as an assistant in a reputed institution in Delhi to give her the very best in life. I am a regular invitee to their house during Navaratri and I’d make it a point to enquire after the child’s progress when ever I visited. But the report I got this year was alarming. The girl was now a school drop out and is probably into bad company. She remains out with friends for days together makes atrocious demands for cash sometimes at gun point. She regularly steals money from her mother’s purse has removed the adoption papers from the locker of her mother’s almirah. The slightest rebuke makes her violent and she challenges her mother to ‘throw her back into the gutter’ from which she picked her. She claims to be working in a call center thereby justifying her absence at night. Her mother is now emotionally dependent on her and the girl is well aware of the fact. My conclusion is that the girl is into drugs and since she is the nominee to all her mother’s assets there may be others involved in encouraging her to threaten her mother and terrorize her to submitting to her unfair demands. In these days of HIV/AIDS spreading like wildfire I wonder if the mother is equipped to deal with the girl as well as those behind her. Any way that is beside the point.

The mother feels guilty about not having disclosed her adopted status at the appropriate time and feels that the shock of having found it out by herself perhaps led her to revolt. She tries to convince herself that drug abuse is not involved. I did not have the opportunity to meet the mother and I report the story from what I learnt through her sister who is in Jamshedpur. I personally feel that this could have happened even if the daughter was her own and not adopted. But then this is one of those issues that have no answer or solution. Blinded by her affection for the adopted daughter the mother refuses to take her for counseling or to find out what her problem happens to be and whether she is indeed working for a BPO. After all who’d hire a school drop out who has failed her 9th standard? Her main fear is that of losing the daughter for ever. And the sixteen year old is well aware of this. In this case the girl accidentally found out about her being an adopted child. I don’t have detailed information about adoption laws but there appears to be a condition making it necessary for parents to inform the child of his/her status at an appropriate time.

The world and its whimsical ways are strange. If the child turns out to be normal no credit is given to the parents whether adopted or natural. The moment things go wrong every one starts giving their expert opinion. Those that sympathize with the child accuse parents of over indulgence or indifference and if they are on the parent’s side they blame the child’s lineage laying the blame on bad blood. Neither of this really helps. Any child can fall into bad company and adolescent crisis is not unique to a particular group. Drug peddlers are on the look out for victims and a child who is confused is an easy prey. As parents one need to recognize signs and deal with it accordingly. Blaming one’s fate is not going to help nor would be helpful to indulge in self pity. No one wants a child to go astray but should the worst happen let it be faced and rectified before it is too late even if it is at the risk of losing the child's affection. Children are sharp and will understand your good intention pretty soon. One needs to remain patient. And in case the misunderstanding persists but the child's behavior is corrected, one can atlest watch his/her growth from a distance and it would be better than witnessing their downfall and not being able to do anything about it. It is the responsibility of the parent to deal with the situation in an appropriate manner and for adopted parents it is like walking on tight rope.

Tag of weirdness

Seven weird things about me-

Preethi has tagged me to reveal 7 weird things about me and to further tag seven people to continue the tag. Having done a similar tag earlier, let me try. Though I have to think of a new list of weird attributes to do justice to the tag.

I have the tendency to think of something funny and giggle or smile. I mostly do it in the privacy of my home but sometimes I giggle to myself while traveling in a bus or in a boring situation. I quickly check if others have noticed it and regain my composure.

I normally see people dress up for the evening and look tidy and trim when I drop in. Evenings are my time to relax and I wear soft and soothing clothes and dress up only if I have to go out. This may be due to the fact that I’ve spent the entire day in a starched sari duly pinned up and am happy wearing dangly stuff that pass off for clothes at home.

I forget where I’ve kept my stuff and tend to look for them in the wrong cupboard though I seem to easily locate my husband’s misplaced belongings. Things have improved a bit these days with pass books in one folder and certificates and things in another. When my husband was working he was worse than me but since retirement he does a good job of organizing things. The only problem is that his lectures are non stop.

I used to sob my heart out while watching melodramatic masala movies till about 10 years back. These days I laugh at the very same situations. I cannot explain the change of heart. May be the actors overacted or I over reacted. Whatever the reason, my children would stop watching the movie and check out if I had started shedding tears. I remember my friends in college hushing me up.

In really tensed up situations I tend to say something out of context. Like when my daughter needed to get admitted for her delivery I asked her if I should grind the soaked dal for vada. I am sure my son in law must have thought that I was crazy. I can’t help it. I get muddled and unable to think straight, I tend to say or do something silly.

I cannot bear parting. I’ve cried for each of my teachers who left school to get married. On one occasion a co - passenger asked me if I was related to my Geography teacher noticing the way I cried when we went to the station to see her off. I’d cry when I left home for the hostel and cry again when I left the hostel to return home. When my younger brother got married I cried along with his wife and my daughter almost disowned me for it. But strangely the tears seem to have dried up these days and I make do with quivering lips and a crooked mouth.

I love reading portions of an impressive book over and over again. I sometimes re-issue library books for the purpose. When I am out of sorts I take up a really funny book and read the funny parts to overcome my bad mood.

Now the difficult part of tagging seven others- I think I’ll ask Sunita, serendipity, dotm, rajk, tys on ice, prats and nz to take up the tag if they wish to.

Gup shap.

I feel that there is some basic difference between men and women. Whether it is in their genes or cultural tuning I wouldn’t know but I do feel that men-or at least those that belong to my generation suffer from a blindness that has no name. We’ve heard of color blindness and night blindness. But how do you classify when men look at things without actually seeing them. My husband for instance needs me in the house all the time. It used to be-
“Where is the gas lighter?” at five o’clock in the morning. This question would annoy me. I certainly don’t hide it under my pillow. Earlier I’d get up and give it to him and come back to get on with my dreams. These days I close my eyes tight and continue to dream. He must have learnt to locate it or perhaps uses matchsticks but he has stopped asking me. The next question would be
“Where is the milk?”
Why they don't try to locate even medium or large sized objects is something I don’t understand. Even while I write this post my husband is asking for the TV remote. He is the actual ‘controller’ of the remote and it is invariably found on the sofa. I don’t even touch it with my little finger but the question is always popped at me. As if I go about hiding everything. I personally feel that they shoot the question even before looking for a particular item. A gent’s towel is not the size of a lady’s handkerchief to be folded and kept in my purse nor do spanners and screw drivers attract me. But it is always ‘where is this or that.’

One evening when I came back from work every edible item had been left open. The cooker with cooked rice in it, dal, and sabzi lay open on the kitchen slab. Curd and pickle on the dining table. Lids of all sizes lay strewn all over the place and this was at least two hours after he had his afternoon meal.

I woke him up from his afternoon nap and demanded to know why he hadn’t bothered to keep the curd and dal in the fridge and why each and every item had been left open. He had no answer except that he was watching an interesting match on TV and forgot about it. He did not even see the curd and pickle lying open.

“Oh! Stop it will you?” was his retort. “It doesn’t take place everyday!” Thank God it doesn’t. It would cause my blood pressure to soar. Honestly I don’t see a woman doing this however interesting a program on TV may be.

The second problem area is the selective deafness he seems to suffer from.

“The dal is in the fridge.” I’d tell him. “Heat it up in the microwave just before lunch.”

I’d come back and see that he has not taken out the dal at all. He had mixed rice with sabzi and eaten it up.

“But the dal was in the fridge” I’d protest.

"Oh was it? I did not know”

“I told you and you nodded your head as if you understood.”

“Did I? I don’t remember you telling me anything.”

The truth was that engrossed in his paper he had not heard a word of what I said nor seen me leave the house.

“Appa was better than you.” I’d say referring to my father in law.

And it was true. My father in law managed a lot for me. After I left at 7 in the morning and the children and husband followed me, he’d go around the house not only putting out lights and checking on the gas regulator but he’d keep track of dhobi account, servant’s salary and newspaper bill. He’d take care of the children’s home work and tell them bed time stories.

“Last month we did not get the news paper on the 3rd since 2nd October was a holiday” he’d announce. Or “The dhobi has lost a towel. I’ve asked him to look for it. I am not paying him unless he gets it.”

It was such a relief to have an elderly person attending to minor details of house keeping. My husband may ultimately do the same for the children but right now all he does is to irritate me.

Having said this I remembered a piece of advise my mother in law gave me long ago.

I was upset at something that my husband said and was about to retaliate when she shut me up much to my irritation.

“Wait till you reach my age” she said. “You can get then away with saying anything you want and he won’t even bother to listen to what you say. The bonding will be such he will not mind it even if he heard you. But not now my child. You need to grow old together before the privilege is yours.”

I now realize that she was speaking from experience and I tease my husband saying that I have his mother’s permission to boss over him once he retires!