Monday 23 July 2012

A mother's heart


Among my many kids was Usman. Usman was the kind of kid who you would fall in love with on your first interaction with him. He was extremely well behaved, well mannered & spoke with a brilliance not common for a four year old. But he was also extremely shy &very peace loving. He was the kind of kid who would never fight back and would distance himself from whatever he had to face competition for.
Initially it was his toys, then his favourite pencil, his favourite spot, so on and later on me. I was very upset that my kid, for whom I cared so much, was distancing himself from me. Naturally I was more on the lookout for him, because I saw the Gandhian in the making. No Gandhian can survive in today's big bad world. I wanted him to learn to fight for himself to stand up for something he wanted, for instance when someone would snatch something from him he would just leave the room instead of fighting over it, lesson number 1 for me - something I still do. I learnt many lessons from all my kids but this was my first ever, and it has helped me in many situations to just walk away (for the moment alone mind you).
He would never hug me back or kiss me properly inspite of my constant expressions of love. It made me worry about him more, it also hurt me a little bit. But I reassured myself, he was a baby still in a Montessori, he would improve as he grew. I took care to not be partial towards him in my behaviour towards him, having personal experience, although limited to teachers being partial at school, I have read enough and heard even more to know how much it affects the kid and others around them. I didn't want to jeopardize my relationship with my other kids for the sake of one.
I spoke to him about it, guided him and constantly tried to brush it in him the need to not be overshadowed by others. Having an older brother who was better at sports and academics didn't help either. Nonetheless the elder one was very protective of him. If he ever saw someone troubling his little brother all hell would break loose. I pray their relationship stays strong forever.
Usman showed some improvement, learning confidence little by little. By the time he was done with his Montessori he was firmer in his stand, a lot more confident, still my peace loving baby but he had improved and no one was prouder than me. One thing however had not changed, he was still reluctant to hug me or kiss me, unlike my other kids he just would not express his love, and it still pricked me.
Soon it was his last day at his Montessori, his interview for first grade was quite good, he answered with a strange confidence I had never seen in him, his teacher had done a good job with him. I was exceptionally proud.
He came to me and was lingering around my table, reluctant to ask but making it obvious he wanted to say/ask something. I called him near me and he became shy. Anyhow he came closer and put one arm around my neck and the other on my left cheek, pulled me down to his level and kissed my right cheek. I was shocked, surprised, elated to the extend that I don't care to explain and I can't. I hugged him back and he started to cry. I patted him and asked him what happened.  If someone had hurt him on his last day at school that kid would have had it from me. But he surprised me even more.
I love you Teacher. Can you please come to my new school because I will miss you so much.
My vision blurred as I wiped my eyes.
No baby I can't come to your new school because if I come to your new school who will take care of your friends here.
But teacher I will miss you so much. Please. I will be a good boy I promise.
 I told him all about how exciting his new school would be and how he would not get the time to miss me. Howls got louder, the hug got tighter.
No teacher I will miss you.  I will come some some times to see you.
Sure darling.
A child, that I had mothered for 6 hours a day 5 days a week was finally ready to face his next challenge (first grade) with the confidence I had built in him, and it had not cost me his love. My mother's heart (not my mum's heart, as in my heart experiencing a mothering moment) was soaring with joy and pride beyond words.

Tuesday 10 July 2012

Acceptance Series 2


I'm fat, I'm thin, I'm short, I'm tall
I'm deaf, I'm blind, hey aren't we all?
Don't laugh at me, don't call me names
Don't get your pleasure from my pain
In God's eyes we're all the same
Someday we'll all have perfect wings
Don't laugh at me.
(mark wills – don’t laugh at me)

She didn’t want to go to the party, but there wasn’t really a choice. She was shy, not just because she was new but because she just could never muster up the courage to open up easily in front of people she didn’t really know.  That’s how she’d been all her life and the reactions she faced made it even worse for her to ever showcase her confidence or her talents, or even her feelings for that matter.
Today was the sophomore day in her new college, just a few blocks away from her home. After being in an all girls school shifting to a co didn’t appease her at all but her parents thought it would do her a great deal good to experience a mixed crowd.
The theme itself was so silly – fairytales. A non-existent superficial kiddish theme she thought. Was not college supposed to be a maturing experience, a place to broaden your perspective, learn to, well, make mistakes and learn - a fairytale themed party to welcome  a new journey seemed really cocky to her. Nonetheless she dressed up, and took a ride to the party with her dad. He wished her luck. Of course she would need it.
The instant she entered she knew it was going to be a hell ride for her. She hated parties and this one was no surprise. Young minds trying too hard to be cool, Muscle and skin revealing dresses in the name of high-class (& low-morale), music to deafen anybody,  dancing that would put some of the prostitutes in town to shame, and of course the bullying- nothing that she was ready for. Juniors all around had come in groups to be able to tackle the seniors, not that it made a difference, but it gave you moral support. So she looked for a group large enough to hide her, she could just sit behind them and pretend to be a part of the gang. She just didn’t want to be targeted again, every time she went to a new place, it was all she prayed – to not be noticed, not because she couldn’t face anybody, had that been the case she’d be dead with burdened humiliation, but she had survived enough of it to last her a life time.  At home and outside.
It wasn’t long before a bunch of hunks came over, eyeing her, she pretended to be talking over the phone, but they weren’t buying it. Why try to intimidate when you are not even interested, she wondered.
The washroom, she thought would be safe, of course what guy would have the guts to walk into a ladies washroom right? At any rate she didn’t want to be embarrassed on her first day itself.
She got up and made her way quickly towards the washroom, as quickly as she could anyways. People weren’t moving enough for her to pass through. 
She rushed into the washroom only to face déjà-vu. The other girls looked her up & down and talked in whispers about the log that had just entered. Or did they say hag? She pretended not to hear, but it was obvious by their looks. Some things don’t need telling, they are expressed much better in actions than in words, by the way you roll your eyes or by the way you smirk, or laugh.
She waited a few minutes and then decided to go home, her parents would say it was all her fault, she had not tried mingle with the crowd, or that she brought this reaction from people upon herself.
“Try to make friends, I’m sure you will find other healthy people to befriend. See if you are fat & others make fun of you, can we say something to them, no, because you are a little fat. Why don’t you try to do something about your weight, what can we do about it, we can only tell you? It is your fault people look at you the way they do.  Nobody will marry you if keep bloating like this. When I was your age i was barely 20 kgs. I don’t want to hear anything you are going to this college, see if you are so much bothered about your weight, then you have the time to lose it.” 
 And it was in rebellion that she refused to do anything about it.  Why should she be bothered? If people were so shallow to not want to befriend a fat person, if they could not see beyond her round belly, then she didn’t want friends like that. If it took her a lifetime even, to find one person who would not judge her for her figure or rather lack of it, she would wait & make friends only with someone deep enough to value human emotions. 
As soon as she left the party hall she was surrounded by the same four guys, wasted to the extent of almost losing their senses, she tried to squeeze out from between them but given her generous size it was not possible, panic engulfed her, she didn’t want to make a scene by screaming, she didn’t want to be molested either, she didn’t know what to do.
Move aside. it didn't come out how she wanted it to but atleast it didn't stay in her voice box.
Why sweetheart? We are doing you a favor no one else in their right mind will even think of. You should be grateful to us.
Words – they are capable of shattering anyone’s confidence.  And suddenly she seemed to have lost them. She couldn’t form a straight sentence in her mind, her voice started deserting her and her eyes began to flood. Hell she didn’t want to cry in front of them – it would only give the sadistic bastards more pleasure. Adrenaline pumped faster than her blood for all the wrong reasons, and she felt scared, like hell.  One of them decided today was his day to be bold, and placed a sick hand on her cheek. All her anger, fear, pain, every possible resentment leapt out of  her, like a hungry predator hunting his prey,  only this leap sounded like a slap.
Her hurt, his disgrace stamped across his disgusted face.
And then he came. 
He didn’t have to say anything, all he had to do was just glare, after all he was the hottest & the richest player in collage – no one messed with him. He had it good - muscle and money. The goons froze, and blabbered some incoherent rubbish.
Her hand was still shivering from the impact and she needed fresh air. She walked away as fast as she could, he followed her.  She sat down across the grounds on the edge of the pool and dipped her legs in.  Water always had a calming effect on her. She needed calming more than anything else, now that the tears had started.   He sat down beside her, keeping a distance. He knew decent girls like her needed space and he respected that – a lot.
She found herself lost between the anger she felt at the shallow minds the bloody world was filled with, the insecurity she felt with him sitting right there and looking at her and the gratitude she felt for his sudden rescue. She allowed herself one single glance at him, though her eyes stayed long enough to be called a stare.  He wasn’t looking at her with sympathy or with disgust, he looked kind of sad. She was most certainly surprised.
This is one of those planned jokes, where he will try to befriend me and later will make fun of me with his own gang and tell me this was one whole planned drama to make me look like an idiot. I must not talk to him. No matter what he looks like. He had to be one of the spoilt brats, couldn’t be anything else.
She stood up to leave, he looked at her as if about to ask something, but stopped. He smiled a genuine smile. She decided to walk faster to avoid a change of mind. When she reached the gate, she looked back, for some unknown reason and she saw him still sitting there, head buried in his hands, and her purse.  Curse luck.
With a lot of conscious effort she turned off her over-working mind and went back to pick her purse up. One more look at him and she lost resolve.
Thank you. For helping me out.
No worries, Its ok. Had there been anyone in your place, I would have done the same thing.
Yes but had there been anyone else in your place, they would not have done the same thing.
He looked up to face her properly
In that case you are welcome. I’m  Roshan . And you are?
I am extremely grateful and tired right now.
Well miss extremely grateful and tired, let me inform you, I am not what you are thinking I am.
You don’t know what I think of you.
I can see it, and I hate being judged. You think I’m a rich spoilt brat, used to getting whatever I want, probably one of the worst characters around, but I’d like you to see that’s not who i am.
Well, I don’t go around making friends where I know there is potential for hurt. I’ve gotten enough of that to know where to keep my distance.  Just because I’m fat doesn’t mean I need sympathies.  I’m fat not disabled- there is a difference.  I don’t need more people assuming that they are doing me a favor that no one else in their right mind would.  
 So ?
So we don’t have to be friends, I can make friends on my own and if not then I can be happy on my own, I don’t need shallow minded losers for friends. 
What have I said or done that makes you think I am shallow?
She knew she was letting her insecurities get to her, perhaps it wasn’t right to be so judgmental of others, and she didn’t have an answer to his question either.  
 Nothing, yet.
Then when I do you can stop being friends ok? Which I highly doubt anyways. So you are ?
Reluctance, insecurity and precariousness later, she replied .
Dia.

Saturday 7 July 2012

Take the time


 The world turns around and around, we move and come back to the same place. Some things change and some never do. The sun rises and the sun sets. Life comes back to a full circle. And while life is busy wrinkling our skins, creasing our foreheads, growing our kids, piling up dust on our things and experiences on our souls, what are we doing? 

Every once in a while, stop, think, kya mai sahi kar rahi hoon? Am I doing the right thing? Your values, morals and ethics may be right but they may not always be apt for the situation. Sometimes they end up causing harm more than good. Think about the way your actions affect others. Sometimes while proving yourself to yourself, you end up disturbing another life entirely.
Think about the cause and effect, why you are doing something and what will it result in?

Between living and existing, try to find a reason for it – a purpose.  A purpose worth defending.  Because I always say if you have nothing in your life worth defending then you life is worthless. Google search your life, find what you value the most and hold on to it, fight for it, defend it, cherish it.
Har pal. Every moment.

Reap the joys of childhood - help other kids, spend time with children, and see the world through their eyes. Spending time with innocence brings peace, it balances the evil and the dirty politics you come across on your daily life. It keeps you grounded to being innocent and shows you how to keep yourself free from petty worries.

While appointing values, learn to value life over money, health over job, family over work, and laughter over pain. Value not only humans but humanity, as a whole.  Value the love, that you get and that you give, and the love that you see around you.  Value innocence over brilliance, for acts of innocence are much more trust-able and heart-warming than acts of brilliance. Brilliance can be appreciated, admired, envied, but innocence can be loved and felt.  Respect what you value.

Save nature, nothing can give you more peace than the beauty of a sunrise illuminating your life, or a sunset deepening you realization of loss, or a waterfall cascading into itself- shattering your reflection, or a sea - serene and aggravating – at the same time.  The beauty of flowers, the smell of rain, the wind breezing by, nothing man-made can even come close to these joys.

Whatever you do may be important, but it can’t to be important enough to be your life. Take a break, give yourself some time, alone.

At the end of every day ask yourself how much have I lived for others? What is a life that has not spent even a part of it for others? Do well to strangers, people whom you know can never pay you back, do somethings just to watch others benefit from it. Watch them smile, and you will experience a joy you can never put into words. Do even better for the people you love, you need not tell them how much you love them, just show them.

Talk less, give voice to your actions, let them convey your words.

And while living for others, don’t forget to live for yourself, go ahead and relax.

Think about life and its mysteries.
Think again.
Then restart your life anew. 







Thursday 5 July 2012

The Same Room



My fingers trembled as I held the pen, I was so sure of what I wanted, I  had fought family and friends, my own morals and values to be here, then why were my hands shaking as if their very existence was at stake? His hand gently held my other, and it gave me all the strength I needed. I closed my eyes - I could only see my mum’s tear-stained face, my dad’s terror, my family’s shame at their daughter’s deed.

They say when your life is near its end, you see everything like a movie and the thing / person you care about the most is the most vivid image in your mind. My life was hardly near its end yet it felt like I was about to choke to death, people I had loved, trusted and still did with all my being, would hate me from now on. A range of emotions battled within me – hope won. I had to take a stand for myself, it was time, I opened my eyes and whispered “sorry mum, sorry dad”. I signed as fresh tears escaped my eyes. 

I can assure you running away from home is not as easy or romantic as the movies make it look like. Sure it’s exciting- the rush, the adrenaline, the joy diluted with pain- it’s just about  as tiring as it can get. Yet I just lived a dream, right now i stand as a wife, officially a wife.  “I’m in love with this courtroom”- it’s all i can think of. The man I love beyond reason placed a seal on our love with this marriage. I know all the wrongs and rights associated with “running away” but, hey I’m an adult and I have every right to take my decisions myself-esp about who I want to spend the rest of my life with. My parents can’t force me to change who I am for a guy of their choice. 

People walk in and out, the sky is clear , just like my mind – in spite of the turmoil I feel oddly at peace. Everyone looks so remote here, no one smiles, no one bothers. We don’t come here  for “legal help” , we are here because we want our right, our freedom, we are here because it matters so much in our lives. Were it trivial we wouldn’t be here, But the people in the court are barely aware of how much it matters to us, for them it's just another day at work, they become so immune to their job that they hardly place any emotional value to the events.    

My now husband's car is parked a few blocks away so I decided to wait outside on the stairs. I sat down and across the road I saw a little girl holding her mother’s hand, her mother gently tugging her along, she saw the ice-cream vendor and planned her deal. She begged for ice-cream, her mother refused and tried to talk her out of it but she persisted- getting a little stubborn moving her hands wildly and leaving her mother’s hand and running towards the ice-cream cart.

That image, that moment will never leave my mind;the parting of hands. Even in childhood, we leave our parent’s hand when they don’t agree with us, just like we do when we grow up, and eventually, like always our parents will come around. Or so we hope.

She fell down, her mother forgot the world and rushed to her, kissed her little head, bought her an ice-cream, took her hand and walked on - if I had given my parents enough time, perhaps if I had been stubborn, would they have come around? Maybe they will. It gives me hope more than I can ask for. It feels like the universe is sending me a signal that my parents too will accept me one day. 

I want to tell that mother to never leave her child, to never say no to anything she asks for, to never put her in a situation where she will be forced to break her own heart and their trust. I want to tell her to give her the freedom of choice as she grows. Tears slip away again, they just seem to need a reason even in my current state of ecstasy. 

Then I noticed her, even with tears in her eyes, she smiled at me – thank god for a human here, I smiled back. Her eyes show so much of love lost, she could be very young, perhaps just a few years older than me, but her face seemed like she’d seen a bad storm, Like a gambler who had put her hope and trust out in the open, rolled the dice and lost it - a young divorcee. I wonder if that is me in a few years time. That smile, that look seemed to be telling me to change my decision and run back home, that I’m wrong. But it was already too late.

Ironic isn’t it I just started my story in the same room where another girl’s probably just ended.




My fingers trembled as I held the pen, I was so sure of what I wanted, I had fought family and friends, my own morals and values to be here, then why were my hands shaking as if their very existence was at stake? His hand gently held my other, and it gave me all the strength I needed. I closed my eyes - I could only see my mum’s tear-stained face, my dad’s terror, my family’s shame at their daughter’s deed.  

They say when your life is near its end, you see everything like a movie and the thing / person you care about the most is the most vivid image in your mind. My life was hardly near its end yet it felt like I was about to choke to death, people I had loved, trusted and still did with all my being, would hate me from now on. A range of emotions battled within me – hope won. I had to take a stand for myself, it was time, I opened my eyes and whispered “sorry mum, sorry dad”. I signed as fresh tears escaped my eyes. 

My dad’s car was parked a few blocks away so he told me to wait at the stairs outside courtroom.  “He” passed by me and didn’t even look back. There was a time he would never leave without looking back and blowing me a kiss.  That was then, this was now. Going through a divorce is probably one of the toughest things a girl can undergo.  It’s like trying to escape a black hole, the more you walk out, the more you get pulled in. It is still beyond my understanding how can you love someone so much to promise to be with them with forever , and yet in times of need fall back on that only hope a  girl survives on. How can you not muster up the courage to defend the girl you love, in front of others? How much do you expect a girl to change just because she is your wife now? How can you defame her like that, how can you be so intimate with her and forget all of it and ask for a divorce.? 

People walk in and out, the sky is clear , just like my mind – in spite of the turmoil I feel oddly at peace. Everyone looks so remote here, no one smiles, no one bothers. We don’t come here  for “legal help” , we are here because we want our right, our freedom, we are here because it matters so much in our lives. Were it trivial we wouldn’t be here, But the people in the court are barely aware of how much it matters to us, for them it's just another day at work, they become so immune to their job that they hardly place any emotional value to the happenings.   

I sat down and across the road I saw a little girl holding her mother’s hand, her mother gently tugging her along, she saw the ice-cream vendor and planned her deal. She begged for ice-cream, her mother refused and tried to talk her out of it but she persisted- getting a little stubborn moving her hands wildly and leaving her mother’s hand and running towards the ice-cream cart.

That image, that moment will never leave my mind- the parting of the hands. Even in childhood, we leave our parent’s hand when they don’t agree with us, just like we do when we grow up, and eventually, like always our parents will come around. Or so we hope.

She fell down, her mother forgot the world and rushed to her, kissed her little head, bought her one, took her hand and walked on – I feel grateful for my parents standing by my decision. I see my own parents reflected in that mother, and I know whatever mistake that child will make, her mother will always be there for her.

I want to tell that child to never trust a man other than her father in her life, I want to tell her to never let go of her mother’s hand because if she does, she is only going to fall down. I want to tell her that although her parents will hold her hand again, they will feel the pain- magnified. That only you will be responsible for what they are going through and even if your life is happy with your decision, a part of you will always long for a better story- one where your parents never had to face anything because of you , one where you made them proud. These days my tears are definitely on the rebound, paying me back in full interest for all the times I had tried to subdue them.

I look around and see a girl perhaps a couple of years younger, she’s got tears in her eyes, so I smile at her. Even with tears in her eyes, she smiles back.  Her eyes shine with fresh rays of hope- masking the pain that seems so far away. that smile radiating so much joy- so she’s another registered wife today. She reminds me of me a couple of years ago. I smile, although I really just want to tell her to run back home and change her decision; she seems to understand but I guess now is a little too late for that. I pray I’m not jinxing her happiness.

Irony has her own ways of revealing herself- my relationship ended just moments ago in the same room that she started a new one.