Tickle this !

Non Quantifiable Acts of kindness (or whatever)

In the movie Little Zizou, the little boy's technology geek older brother finally confronts his debauched father and calls him @#$%^&" humbug".

The father tell him how ungrateful the boy is and that he had taken care of the boy when he was ill (silence), brought him up (silence), kept him the house (silence) and even gave him a scooter to ride. At the last one, the technology geek older brother breaks into a wicked toothy smile as he dramatically takes out the scooter keys from his front pocket and shoves them in his father's shirt pocket saying something to the effect " so take it back now".

The boys pack stuff, pick up mom's b/w photograph and leave the house banging the door shut on the humbug dad. Feels good ! Retribution for that X@#$CV of a father.

I could not get over that bit for a long time after the scene was over. My brain was in a churn and I was thinking how it is a familiar feeling to return stuff to offending party ( OP) in any relationship - wedding rings, house, love notes, photographs, gifts of love, money..and that kind of squares up the equation. Its like, " here you wanted to be nice, romantic, loving, caring, condescending, kind to me, but now you can take it all back. I am rejecting your favours". But in case the OP has not just 'GIVEN' but instead 'DONE' stuff for you - Noun Vs Verb kind of thing :) the climate changes.

For example : 1) I took care of you 2) I stood by you 3) I was there when you needed me 4) I brought you up 5) I stayed awake the nights when you had Colic 6 ) I paid for your education 7) I tolerated your bad behaviour 8 ) I listened to you - ad infinitum. In such situations there is no way one can say, "hey I am going to do the same to you just now and square up".

These 'non quantifiable' acts of kindness can often be used like weapons in relationships. I pondered more over the next fist of popcorn and realised how I do it, most often telling my poor husband how I have "stood by him" through bad times. I've noticed how that shuts up any conversation. Thats like hitting the stumps since I presume he gets eternally burdened by that statement. I would too. I am sure if there was any measurable device of 'standing by' someone, he would just do it and square up on this for once.

It also set me thinking that I have with much effort in fact, stayed clear from being too often at the receiving end of '"I have DONE this for you" situations ! With of course the obvious exception of my parents. No one ever wanted to do favours for me, luckily so.

My Dad payed a capitation fee for my brother to study engineering & Bro later refused to make a living of it. He is regularly at the receiving end of a regular dose of " I paid for your education", "I took care of you", "I brought you up". " I am still bringing you up" etc.

While I do not at all feel sorry for him it reminds me of another scene where the buxom Parsi mom asks the preposterous kid, "How would you like it if you did not have a mother ?". Preposterous kid says, "I'd like it". LOL !

Juicy Grapes so yummy !

Today was Rayyan's School Fancy Dress show. In retrospect, I rue how soon I give up on Rayyan by presuming he will not measure up. I try so much harder with Ruhi. I am constantly surprised by him these days, which is a new feeling and I so like it ! 

For his fancy dress I dug my brains for the simplest costume that I thought he could carry off and created a 2 line limerick about 'juicy grapes'. He enthusiastically mugged and practiced his lines to call. Maybe I should have given him a longer poem since the other kids spoke so much more and it helped !

He is shit scared of balloons from the day one went bust bang on his face. Yet he bravely made peace with them on his D day. I tried to do a dress rehearsal for several days before Fancy dress but he did not let the balloons anywhere close to him. I was half certain he would refuse to put the balloons on his shirt. But he quietly stood at the back of my jeep outside his school, to let me tape them to his shirt.  He also patiently let the double sided tape sit on his head holding a tiny leaf patch. 

He looked very bright and cheerful till I left him at the steps from where he had to walk alone to the centre of the small stage. He walked up slowly and timidly looking very scared. The balloon on his right shoe fell off and I thought he was about to run back. I quickly moved up from the audience to sit at his feet holding his tiny cold hand. He was absolutely silent for a few seconds as the teacher urged him to speak on the mike. His eyes were locked into mine in a bewildered gaze and it seemed he had lost his voice.

I whispered hard to him "say good morning friends...". He paused some more and swallowed spit. I thought he was going to give up. But then he looked straight at the audience and said his lines loud and clear right down to the sprightly 'thank you'.

He did not win a prize and for once I did not mind it. Its taken baby steps to get here and this in itself is my biggest prize ! 

Catterpillar to the Butterfly !

Little Rayyan led his class for the Sports Day march past while I searched for him among the last in the file of kids !

He has so completely transformed from where we began an year ago. And his teacher made all the difference - that grand old lady in front of him whom he calls 'Dadi ma'm" ! She calls him her "Little Puck". We love you Geita Ma'm.

"Mom, are we Bengalis?"

Every evening, Ruhi and I spend some quality time together! She had come back late from a birthday party and after the regular run down on her asthma (she is going through a miserable attack that leaves her coughing and wheezing all day ) what she ate and what she didn't, the games and how she could not dance or run the conversation took another turn :

"Mom, are we Bengalis?"

"I don't think so Ruhi...why would you ask?"

"Hmm....some one at Sona's birthday party thought I was Bengali"

"Is that so? How come ?"

"She asked me my name and when I said it, she asked 'are you a Bengali?' Ruhi said smiling sheepishly

My heart was pounding harder than usual.."hmm...so what did you say?"

"I said I am a Punjabi" she said with a more sheepish smile and gave me a look that she has when she isn't sure. I stayed silent for more than a second till she asked "We are Punjabis, are we not Ma?"

"Your mom is from Punjab, but your father is ..."

"Oh I know it ! He is a Bengali !" she interrupts excitedly

"NO !!! He is from Uttar Pradesh..."

"Oh Ok"

I pondered if this was that moment I have been anticipating when I should introduce the concept of Religion, Caste, Creed etc. I felt unprepared...this wasn't something that I could delve into my mommy good sense for answers if she asked me a pertinent question. Specially since I noticed my husband look eagerly at me, waiting to hear the obvious explanation. I let the moment pass. Some other time, some other way.

Ruhi had moved on by then.

"Mom is 'senstitive' a bad word ?

'Sensitive you mean ?"

"yep, someone called me that...."

Love is...

Merry Christmas !

I bought an island Pine last December and it has survived yet another christmas this year ! Ruhi & Rayyan had a mini wrestling match to decide who would hang up the trinkets and after the tree was done Rayyan solemnly folded his hands in front of the 'bhagwan ji' tree. God save these terribly terribly mixed up kids.

Ruhi wrote a letter to Santa asking for a 'toy house from the play pen in the Mall, a 'real' camera and a 'real' phone and a chocolate.."

Santa left her a Barbie doll with a helmet on a natty bycycle and the chocolate. I told her that her wish list was quite out of Santa's budget and she conceded. Rayyan got a miserly plastic auto rickshaw and he was elated. Krti didi their maid got a pair of shoes which she turned up her nose at. LOL

Ruhi still believes in Santa Claus ! She woke up past midnight almost as I was putting her gift on her pillow, blinked vaguely for a couple of minutes muttering some Santa gibberish & then collapsed into sleep again. In the morning she inspected the house and told me the exact places Santa had visited. She could tell by the trail of Santa's perfume ! I am keeping my fingers crossed. I guess there may be another year to go before the bubble breaks ! :)))

I am intolerant...

I got to know of the Mumbai attack through an sms at 11 PM that night which said " Mumbai...terrorists...am stuck at the Taj restaurant...still alive". It came from someone who had just arrived in India that day and someone with a feisty sense of humor. I gave the sms a bemused look before deleting it. Then the same sms came again and I decided to check on the internet.

I kept feeling sick through the night and that feeling has still not gone. I could not make myself switch on the TV and after 2 days when I finally did, I saw Barkha Dutt chocking with melodrama over a half spilled glass of wine that she had discovered at the ghost of the Taj. I could survive the TV for less than 20 minutes, the same sick feeling.

I feel a changed person, I am brimming with contempt and I have a feeling that my lid will blow off. I am feeling helpless, I have been wanting to 'do' something beyond reading newspapers, pressing the 'join' button for every call to 'join hands against terror' e mail..,to do something dammit, even if just to buy an air ticket to Bombay, stand across the Taj and hurl abuses into the sea to wherever it is that the monsters came from.

More disturbingly, I am feeling intolerant. I am distrustful when I hear my muslim family protest against what happened. I intent fully look for denial in what they say - you can hear it sooner than later. A day post the Bombay tragedy I was broodingly silent ad-mist an animated family discussion when the inevitable came up - stuff like Mossad, Hindu Terrorism, cover job to save Col Purohit...I felt a nerve was going to crack in my head and I framed my sentence in my mind " Indian muslims will always live in denial...until Indian muslims stop pitying themselves and become a part of the Indian fabric, until then terrorism will have a market in India...".

As I started to speak I stopped at my first words " Indian Muslims.." My words were hanging in the air, I thought of the consequences. I would become an alien with that one sentence. A lot else would happen..was there any reason to ignite this? I would be told I know nothing about Islam so I could ill afford a point of view. I decided to stay quiet and leave the table. It was left to assumption what I had intended to say and no one asked. I think the point was anyhow made that... I was intolerant...

My children do not know their religion yet. Ruhi thinks her mother is from Punjab and her father is from Mars. A year ago, a lot of kids from the local mosque came over to my house for reciting verses from the Koran. It is called 'korankhani', the same purpose as holding an 'ardas' in your house - for purification and blessing. Ruhi was woken up by the loud sound and she went over to watch and then came running to me and said "mama a lot of Punjabi people have come to our house" ( implying that they were speaking a foreign (punjabi) language). It was funny then and I had laughed. Today it is sad. There is so much irony in that humor. She is seven and its time for me to tell her who she is supposed to be, before anyone else does. I wish I did not have to. Not when I feel like this.

I am to blame.

"From today, I resolve to blame myself for whatever is going wrong. I also resolve that I will take action - decisive action - to solve my own problems as well as those of my family, neighbours, friends, relatives and associates. I am a proud Indian. I can bring about the desired change.""


Say "I am to blame" at www.iam2blame.com and get everyone we know to say the same.

To Santa Claus?

This morning to Santosh Desai...and to you...to whoever it is who visits here and reads this post.

Dear Santosh :

I react to 'to gather with the rage of others' in today's City City Bang Bang.

I am angry like the rest of us and I want to be able to 'do' something. I believe ( naively?) that there are many other people like me. So yesterday, I spoke to a friend who is a celebrated, young army officer, on a quick climb up the army ranks. I also spoke to a young IAS officer working with the revenue services in Delhi. I asked them what we could do to channelize this rage, since my limited understanding of how things work limits my abilities to act. Both said nothing could be done by anyone. The defense services and the bureaucracy is infested at every level with people wanting to earn brownie points and promotions. The high rage after Kargil took just a few months to be completely forgotten. And that Kargil was equivalent if not more offensive in its damage to our country. As with Kargil, it will take a few weeks for our collective memories to fade. Ditto for the collective rage.

I told them that to me both of them represented the highest calibre of what young India stands for and it was disillusioning and heartbreaking that both of them speak a common language of indifference and defeat. The army guy said " things are not so bad". Whatever that may mean.

I have been thinking ever since that the ONLY was to keep the collective rage alive is if people with media clout ( like YOU) and Bollywood takes it upon themselves to endorse this cause. The rest are dead and we have to bring them to life. If Aamir says often enough that muslim is not equal to terrorist and so does Salman and so does Shahrukh there will be no market for terrorism in this country. And if you and your likes will keep writing about the outrage of what happened last Wednesday - way beyond one month, 6 months and 12 months from today - there may be hope of change.

I am helpless and angry, I can only vent angst by writing to people who I think are a bit more empowered than myself. And I can hope they read obscure blogs...