"Please Sir, I want some more"

I have never been interested in reading classics and pure literature and tend to enjoy fictions and thrillers. As a student, I hated memorizing lines from Shakespeare and from great works of Charles Dickens which were part of the curriculum. But Oliver Twist by Charles Dickens was an exception. I enjoyed the story and not having a great memory for quotes, the line "Please Sir, I want some more" by Oliver, the orphan asking for more gruel is still etched in my memory. It was a touching line in the novel and somehow has stayed with me all these years and recently had a profound impact in my personal life.

I underwent a surgery last month and was asked to be on liquid diet for three days prior to the surgery. Never the type to observe fasting even for ritual sake, I found this to be a tough task. I was tempted to give up and start on my routine diet several times before the surgery. But the strict instruction from the surgeon held me back. Once the surgery was over, the first thought after the anaesthetic effect wore out was that I could go back to my normal diet. But the doctor felt that I needed to be on drips for couple of days before resuming normal diet. My mind was quickly calculating the number of days I have been starved of solid food. Almost five days........that was just too much. I was even ready to walk and jump just to show the doctor how fit I was to resume normal diet. My craving for rice and hot rasam was increasing by the hour. I realized that I could never be one of those women who can go on stringent diets, with no rice, no solid food for days together just to stay slim. I would rather look my plump self and have my regular diet of dosas and sambars and chutneys than starve and look slim.

If I could not stay away from food even for a valid reason, I was wondering how kids and adults alike in countries like Somalia must be craving for food. It also makes me feel ashamed that we are wasting tons of food that is being prepared in excess in marriages and social functions and how  many times we throw away food even at home.

If I felt like begging like Oliver just for couple of days , how many millions in this world are asking for more every day. This surgery has been an eye opener for me at least in terms of experiencing what hunger for food is. I have promised myself to take that extra step to provide something to eat for at least one starved soul other than my kith and kin.

Finding appa

I thought I was close to my father, like all daughters who think so and was shaken to realise that I knew only one side of him and had not noticed the fascinating other side of him. My father, as I knew him, was a very patient, not so disciplining, but loving and caring father, Though he was not physically present in most of the important occasions in my life, I knew his heart was with me and felt very blessed that he chose to stay with me during his last days.  He was intelligent, witty and very well read and admired by people who knew him. I got to know him better only during the last few months of his life when he stayed with me after my marriage. Till then, I grew up without realizing that I was the daughter of a genius who was a walking encyclopedia. For me he was the man who brought me lovely dresses and loads of chocolates after each of his trips abroad and who cracked the best jokes in the world and was chilled out even when I carelessly lost valuable items or didn't do well in the exams. I was also scared and intimidated by his knowledge and would pray everyday that he didn't ask me awkward questions about my studies or whether I have read about random stuff he could come up with. He was a voracious reader and had tons of information about any subject under the sun. I was nowhere close to him in this aspect.

But still he was my lovable friend, philosopher and guide and gave some valuable advice regarding life in his own cool style without imposing his opinions on me.
Now after his death, various people come up to me and chat with me about my father, recall incidents about him, narrate how great a man he was, how generous he was etc. I get to know more about him than he was alive .

I learnt about my father's struggle as a young boy when both his parents passed away in quick succession and he had 5 younger siblings to take care of. The kids did not have anything to call their own, as they had sold everything to take care of their ailing mother. My father, who was just 15, with his 5 younger siblings (youngest one being 3 years old), had to take refuge in his grandmother's  house. He had to walk miles everyday after school to take tuitions to meet his expenses for education. Despite not having even two full meals per day, he was outstanding is his school and later on, in college.  He worked as a lab demonstrator earning a paltry sum and could not continue his higher education. But he managed to answer a difficult chemical quiz in an international science journal and the professor from Germany who posted the quiz was impressed by my father's knowledge that my father was invited to Germany to do his higher studies free of cost.

Recently , I came to know that my father has done his research work under Dr. Heisenberg, the Nobel laureate from Germany who is considered as God of quantum physics. In fact, my father, it seems , was the only Asian to have worked under him. I never knew this fact or the topic of his research and I never even asked my father about his student life and his research work.
Its a lesson learnt that we actually do not know our parents or siblings so well though we feel we are close to them. we are all immersed in our day to day life and its chores that we fail to recognise or take time to share the trials and tribulations of our family members.
This post is a tribute to the greatest soul in my life who would have turned 80 this week if he had been alive and also a post to say sorry to his soul for failing to understand his greatness!

Nature is giving it back!

As an Indian citizen , it pains to see people having total disregard to nature.  In a city of millions like Mumbai, its a tough ask for the state government to pull up people who abuse nature or treat mother earth with total disrespect. For me personally, it is appalling to see people spitting, urinating and throwing garbage at will at public places. Public toilets are badly maintained and overcrowded. There are never enough trash cans at public places and the few that are there are overflowing with garbage. There is no proper system for garbage disposal and the city totally stinks during the monsoon.
I am scared to step out of my house during monsoon for the fear of catching some infection walking around in the overflowing sewage water. (My earlier blog post on the same topic"Moaning in the Monsoon" dated 13/07/2009 ). This week , Mumbai sea was giving it back to the city. Usually there are warnings about high tide before the monsoon. Despite the warnings, people throng to the beaches to witness the high tide. This time, high tides were fun to watch till they hit the bystanders. It showered them with all the garbage they had been throwing into the sea for years no end. When I saw the pictures in the newspaper next morning, I was literally clapping my hands and even wanted to give a pat on the back of mother nature. There is only so much one can take and I think, its time we repent our doings and face the wrath of nature. But its also scary to think what else we would be facing in the future due to nature's fury.

This is how the very famous, supposedly beautiful Marine drive looked after a high tide episode this monsoon. Hope Maharashtra tourism board add this to their places of attraction during monsoon!.

Chithi

Among all the roles that I have to play as part of a huge family, most favorite one is the role of chithi (tamil term for aunt, mother's younger sister). I am the fourth daughter in law in my husband's family and hence called chithi by all the kids in the family. On my maternal side too, being the younger daughter, I am the chithi to my sister's kids. . My nieces and nephews open up to me and consider me to be their pal and we have a good time, joking, laughing and sharing anecdotes.
Chithis being the younger daughters of the family share a special bond with their sister's children as they are first kids they get to handle even before marriage and having their own kids. This definitely makes the bonding special and a lasting one too.
I shared the same warmth and comfort with my own chithi. As a college student, I used to run to her place , spend time, eat all the delicacies prepared by her and generally have a very rejuvenating breaks from my routine. I could discuss matters with her which I wouldn't discuss with an elder otherwise. she was a very dependable soul-mate. There was never any hesitation to talk about any topic under the sun nor any awkwardness in her presence. I would even find faults with her beliefs and practices and she would take it in her stride. After years of my marriage, my chithi stayed with me for over two weeks and we had a great time, it was like having my best friend with me. she cooked my favorite recipes and we chatted 24x7. I would count those days as one of the best in my life.
She passed away this week after brief illness but her memories and the best times we shared would stay eternal. The best tribute to her would be to be the best chithi to my nieces and nephews. I am sure all the chithis who share special bonds with their elder sister's children would agree with this topic and share my sentiment.

Election campaigns

Thinking of my mother in law who passed away a few months back at the ripe old age of 85 and my late father  during these days of election campaigns. Why particularly now am I reminded of them?  

My mother in law was a very soft-spoken and kind soul who did as many chores as possible whenever she was around. She took turns to stay with her five sons and had to adjust living with five different women as her daughters in law. Her favourite quote was that its easy to adjust with one mother in law for us than she adjusting to five daughters in law. Though my mother in law wanted to be active within the limitations of her physical strength, her sons , daughters and daughters in law were quick to remind her that she is getting older and she must take rest and enjoy life and not bother herself with the regular chores. Though all this was said because of the affection we all had for her, in the long run, I personally felt that not allowing the elders in the family to actively do what they want is in a way inhibiting their freedom and cutting down their satisfaction that they are doing something purposeful.  It was the same case with my father. He wanted to be active till his very last day, wanted to write books, go around the town to meet his friends (despite being a amputee) , wanted to start his own business venture even past his 70s and we were quick to reprimand him for these and remind him that he was old and not fit enough to do all he desired for.

This sentiment about not allowing the elders to do what they like the most without reminding them that they are older is proven wrong when we observe the recent election campaigns in India . There was this interesting piece of news in the papers that most of the party leaders who were actively campaigning for their parties were mostly septuagenarians or octogenarians (Karunanidhi of DMK is 90, being the oldest of the lot) . I am sure their family members too are a worried lot who think why should their father or uncle tour around the country so much at this ripe old age? But, I am sure these aged leaders enjoy their active lifestyle so much that they would not want to miss the opportunity to be useful to their respective parties. They are the shining examples to prove that age is just a number and its the mind that matters. But as an ordinary citizen would I allow my aged mother to do something on her own and give her the freedom to enjoy her time without being unduly worried whether she would fall sick doing some chore or without feeling irritated that she need not do a particular chore at that age? I am not so sure about myself! But giving the freedom to the aged is a valuable lesson this election campaign has taught me. 

Summer vacations

We are already making plans for summer vacation trips. Till about a couple of years ago, we were making the mandatory annual vacation trip to chennai from Mumbai without a second thought. But for the past two years we realize that children have grown up and they no longer have company to enjoy the vacation when we go hopping from one relative's house to the other in the sweltering heat of chennai. All the kids in the family have grown up and each one is busy with their own summer plans. Its no longer a family get together that was a few years back.  I also pity the children of this generation who are pushed by parents to attend various summer camps and endless list of classes. I am reminded of my own childhood where summer vacations started the day we finished our exams and were packed off to our native village.

All the cousins used to come to our village in summer, and what a great time we used to have! Early mornings were equivalent to summer classes when we had to learn cycling and swimming from our uncles and cousins who were already experts in them. In fact, I used to be scared of the swimming classes because it was not a typical pool like those in the cities where we could learn swimming. We were pushed into the wells in the farm lands to learn swimming. These wells had no walls and were  huge in circumference at the ground level. Beginners had to climb down the stone steps inside the well and had to jump into the water with just a rubber tyre around the waist. With passing days, the level we had to jump from the stone steps was increased and the final class was to jump into the well from the ground level without entering the well through stone steps. Although it was scary we enjoyed it thoroughly. After the strenuous sessions of swimming, we were treated to fresh mangoes and huge glasses of sugar cane juice right in the fields. It was bliss and after an hours trekking back from the fields to home we used to feel so tired and hungry that even ordinary regular fare during lunch used to taste heavenly. Then afternoons were the time to play chess (boards engraved on the floor) and five stones (a game typical for girls where we had to throw five stones up in the air and catch them in various patterns). Evenings were for theatre activities. Couple of cousins used to become script writers (not that they wrote great plays), couple of others were make up artists (read as experts in using kajal to create moustach)  and all the senior cousins were part of the cast. Juniors, despite showing their unhappiness about not being select for the main cast were in charge of managing the audience ( a handful of neighbourhood kids) and creating music and background score with kitchen utensils. Initial few days used to be spent in writing scripts (which was changed every day and every hour depending on how the script writer got along with his/her cousins, whether everybody agreed to the script) and practising the lines and last couple of days used to be dress rehersal (wrapping around old sarees and dhotis of elders used to generate so much laughter among the kids). Most of the times , the final play would not be enacted since the main cast would have already gone back after their vacation. Though it used to be disappointing for the rest of the kids, it never bothered them when the play was planned the subsequent year.
Come to think of this generation, I feel sorry for the kids who never experience such creativity and enjoy vacations in sync with the nature.

Twin blows!

Although he was ailing, losing my father was a big blow.  Of course with time, we went back into the routine and as the pain of losing him started becoming lesser, our family had to face the second blow within a few months. My brother passed away and it was totally unexpected and came out of the blue. In times of grief, we turn towards the Almighty and ask him several questions. My foremost one was why our family was the chosen one to face such huge deathly blows within a short span of time. Though my mother, who was the most affected in the family, took it in her stride, this nagging question of why us never left me for quite a few years.

Then I slowly realized that we were not the only ones to go through such twin blows. If we look around and observe, there are lot of families who face such twin or even triple blows within a very short period. Its just that we are too immersed in our own sorrows that we don't notice others who endure more. Recently my husband's uncle who was close to the family passed away after suffering from throat cancer. Just when we thought the family had endured the worst and wished that the near ones face better times, comes the news that my aunt, his wife is suffering from breast cancer. Their children, all of them daughters,  are just in their late twenties and early thirties and are involved in setting up their own families and its sad that they have to handle such a crisis immediately after facing their father's agonizing death.  I am sure that "why us" question would be nagging them too.

With all these philosophical thoughts about twin blows and chosen ones theory, I also realize that we never appreciate when we have  success stories or double happy events which happen in quick succession in our family and never question God about why we were the chosen ones to experience such pleasures. There are millions of people in the world who suffer more than we do and just a trip to the local hospital could be a great eye opener as to how blessed we are to  lead the lives we are blessed with. 

A journey to remember

Positive side of being a freelancer and housewife is that I need not commute in peak hour traffic in a congested city like Mumbai . I always thank my stars for being in a stay at home profession every time I travelled in a public transport. Till now, I made sure that I travelled long distances only in mid afternoons when the crowds in buses or trains are manageable. Even travelling by a car can be hassling , especially during peak hours when the traffic jams seem to be endless. My sympathies always lie with women who have to manage all the chores at home and then rush to the offices and  are also harassed in the trains and buses.

But recently, in fact, for the first time in my eight year stay at Mumbai, I travelled by train in peak office hour.It was indeed an interesting experience and I realized women were actually enjoying their journey . The women's compartment in Mumbai local trains is a scene of bustling activity and interesting too to watch how women utilize their journey time. There were women and girls of different age groups involved in various activities. College girls were busy texting their friends and taking out their make-up kit from their bags and busy combing their hair, applying a dab of lipstick or touching up their eyes. Middle aged women were happy catching up with the previous days happenings with their friends while munching and sharing their breakfast. There was a group of old age women who looked like vegetable vendors who sat on the floor of the train in a big circle and were busy sharing business secrets along with their quick bite of vada-pav.
Best thing about the entire compartment was that I didn't see a single unhappy or harassed face despite rushing from home, travelling in a congested train and having a long day to toil. they were actually happy to see the faces of their friends who were sailing in the same life boat and I could realize that this journey time was the best time of their hard days and they all looked forward to it.
By the time my station arrived I even went through a pang of jealousy that I didn't have such a good circle of friends who I could meet every day and share my thoughts and food at the same time.  It was an eye-opening journey for me with regard to the life of women in this city.

Democracy for rapists?

Past few months, especially since the infamous Delhi rape case last December, Indian media has been relentless in exposing rape cases , not even sparing the high and mighty involved in them. From Asaram Bapu to Tehelka editor now, there are endless stories everyday. I feel, women are more forthcoming now a days and are becoming bolder  to go against the mighty and powerful if they have been wronged. Kudoz to these women who have the guts to do so. But women being abused dates back to centuries and even Sita from Ramayan and Draupadi from Mahabarat are no exceptions. At least one woman in every Indian family is sexually abused by her own husband or uncles or cousins or family friends.

I, personally, was disturbed by a piece of article by an Indian dignitary's wife on how she was sexually abused by a visiting international dignitary and how she could never come out in the open for years about the abuse and had to carry on with her normal life as though nothing had happened. If a high profile woman has to undergo this, imagine the plight of millions of women belonging to middle class and lower strata of the society.  My own childhood experiences were so traumatic that I am too scared about the security of my daughters. I am scared to allow them to travel alone in public transport or stay overnight at even a close friend's or relative's house. You never know who could misbehave with them.

How can we put an end to this trauma? I feel its time India stopped being proud of being a democratic country. Justice is never on time here. I feel, we should just follow the model of Arab countries to punish the guilty.  Once proven guilty, the culprit should be punished in full view of the public. This would create fear in the minds of the wrong doers. Till such time I can only pray that my girls return home safely and every other girl on the street is smart enough to protect herself.

Middle age and spectacles

When I was in third standard, most of the English lessons were boring, but there was one particular lesson which I clearly remember is a story about a man named Kichu who wears spectacles and always misplaces it and is forever looking around the house for it. It was so hilarious that it became my favourite lesson and I read it several times over and over and could not stop laughing every time I read it . But now I realise that each house has middle aged kichus and pattus who are always on the look out for spectacles. The saddest part is I am one of them.
I am very sensitive with regard to my eye. Smallest of the problems in my eye can trigger a panic in me and I can't stand even a peck of dust entering my eye. Few months back, on the day when I could not sign a simple form at a shop and had to take my daughter's help to actually identify the spot where I had to put my signature pushed me to realise that I could no longer read comfortably. I was forced to go for an eye-check up by the family and I just hoped that it would get over soon. Luckily, I had to wear only reading glasses and I was glad that I could still manage many of my chores without spectacles. But the downside was, I had to constantly search for the specs whenever I wanted to read something. wearing specs at home was okay, but going out with spectacles? No way! I thought more than greying hair and wrinkles on the face and hands, spectacles would make me look older. I was not ready to wear it . I only carried it along and only and if and only when there was an emergency like filling up bank details or forms, did I take them out from my handbag.
I became the object of amusement for my daughters, and they were happy to show me their mark sheets or answer papers before I could go in search of my spectacles and grab them back . Now, on my husband's insistence I am wearing my spectacles with a string so that it would hang around my neck like a noose and makes me feel bad about laughing at Kichu of my English lesson.

Our own Mary Kom!

Winning a medal in Olympics! That too being an Indian and also mother of not one but twins. Great feat Mary! Of all the sports icons who won the medals for India at the Olympics (not that we can boast of too many), Mary has really stolen our hearts.
I salute her more since I realize how difficult it is to raise , leave alone twins , even one child. There are thousands of Indian housewives who hire full time maids much younger than them to handle their kids. Here is a sports icon who takes care of her twins (one of them is a heart patient!) and also keeps her drive to be good at her chosen sport fighting not only the opponents but all other social pressures too.
Her husband says that she had to face the wrath of her in laws as a newly wed to pursue her dreams. Of course, now they would be the first ones to celebrate her victory.
As middle class Indians we still have to fight the system to achieve something we believe in. It is all the more difficult for a married woman as many a times she has to fight the family too . Mary Kom is a winner every way and she is blessed to have a supportive husband who doesn't have a huge ego to stop his wife from pursuing her dreams. May his tribe increase and lets have more of such Mary (Humari) Koms!

Celebrity fever!

Last year Hindustan times gave scholarships to few deserving students of the city schools who excelled in academics and co-curricular activities. One of the recipients of this was none other than Shahrukh Khan's daughter.
What an irony? When this country has millions of children who need all the funding even for basic necessities like food, clothing, etc one of country's leading newspaper chooses to fund the education of the daughter of one of the highest tax payers of the country. This can happen only in India. All the students selected for this scholarship have been selected from the most prestigious schools and not from state run schools and these so-called prestigious schools collect a huge sum of fees and in addition to that, the parents send their children to private tuition which cost more than double the school fees. Why on earth would these children need this scholarship? why not give it to more deserving and economically backward students?

Then came the piece of news that a hospital is turned into a fortress for Aishwarya Rai's delivery, while the same page carried a news of a poor woman delivering in the train . What a contrast! Surely , our media and administration needs to wake up for the needs of the poor and stop idolizing stars .

Ranjithas of different colours

Recently the name Ranjitha has been in the news quite often. First it was actress Ranjitha's involvement with Nithyananda and now Ranjitha, the hockey player who has filed a complaint against her hockey coach for sexual abuse. But what amazes me is the total contrast in the reactions of these two Ranjithas for the same problem, namely, sexual abuse. Though much has been written about the video exposures of actress Ranjitha with Nithyananda, I feel she has been totally wronged by the media. The focus of exposure should have been Nithyananda and not the actress. But I also feel she didn't have the guts to stand against a "holy" man of poor moral ethics. Whereas the hockey player, despite the threat of losing her position in the team, and the prospect of giving up her passion, has chosen to stand against the wrong doing and has dared to go against the system.
But does this not reflect the attitude of women in our society towards sexual abuse? I always thought, uneducated women from lower classes are bolder than their educated counterparts in dealing with sexual abuse. A uneducated woman or even a villager doesn't mind dragging her man on to the streets to expose him, if he sexually abuses her. But the so-called educated women, from middle and upper classes of society silently put up with so much crap from the men in the family and are scared to seek legal help. I know of a highly educated acquaintance of mine being pushed to insanity by her husband, who doesn't want her to socialise or mingle with her family or friends . She is a nervous wreck and there is no trace of the once bubbly, active and highly talented girl in her. I just hope that more middle class and upper class Ranjithas, like the hockey player come out boldly, make a statement and seek justice for any wrongdoing against them.

Woman's day out

At 40, with two school going children and a punishing schedule of translations, I hardly get the time to be myself. But last week was a nice one, where I could relive my youthful days.
A bunch of friends who have become closer to me through the kids decided to have a get-together and it turned out to be the most memorable evenings in a long time for me.
We met for tea and snacks and decided to have North Indian fare for snacks. All the dishes turned out to be super good and we had a great time relishing them, chatting, teasing, pulling each other's leg. There was no gossip about mamiyars and nathanars and no crying on shoulders about worries or ordeals. It was plain fun, joking and laughing out loud and playing a couple of rounds of Chinese Whispers. The children were trying to calm us down, but we were on a roll.
I felt that such get-togethers can be great stress busters. And the best part was to be reprimanded by children for our childish behaviour!
I'd like to be a child once in a while like this!