Dida

Dearest K~,

Your Dida passed away when you were yet to be born .... an eight month baby inside me!! I wish you could have interacted with her and experienced the love and affection she posessed. Let me write a few lines about her in the hope that these will be read by you in the years to come and make you proud of her blood which runs through you.

K~, Your Dida was married very young, at 20 years to your Dadu, then almost 30 years old, such age difference between the bride and groom being a very common phenomenon in those days. She was the daughter of Deputy Financial Advisor and Chief Accounts Officer, Indian Railways, a very high rank profile which came with great social status and money. However, the atmosphere in which she was nurtured always focussed on Education and Values; Emphasis was never laid on the temporary glory of plush bungalows, sprawling lawns, huge fleet of servants, government car etc. etc. Her Baba, that is my Dadu, was known to be a stern and a righteous man who almost lost his life once against corruption.

Dida was a tremendously talented and scholarly person. She completed High School at a mere age of 13 years with Distinction. She was a Indian Classical Vocalist and a Kathak Dancer too. She was the youngest daughter amongst her six siblings and had a very docile and complying disposition. By the time she turned 18 years, her Baba retired and her family shifted to Kolkata which was Naxal infested in those days. The young crowd were the most threatened ones because almost all Educational Institutions in Kolkata nurtured the rebel fire of Naxals. She had to be married off for the safety and security of her own future.

She was married to your Dadu, definitely a struggler but tremendously talented in terms of Academics and Music. He worked as a Junior Engineer at the BHEL, Bhopal. Dida displayed such adaptability and flexibility happily travelling IInd Class inspite having travelled Ist Class and Salons all through her life, cooking and cleaning for countless relatives and her In-Laws with no help regardless of the glove treatment she enjoyed since childhood. Her extraordinarily inspiring, affectionate and responsible behaviour compelled your Dadu to write a letter to her parents thanking them for the lovely daughter they had wedded him to.

Your Dadu fondly recalls their first wedding night when the only thing she uttered was a request to be allowed to complete her PhD which had suffered a setback owing to the political conditions of Kolkata. Dadu promised to fulfill her wish which he graciously followed a year later even at the cost of them staying separately and your Maashi shifted to grandparents house for over 3 years. And she completed her PhD. Botany, in a record breaking 3 years time given her intelligence and diligence. She wrote numerous international journals which were discussed at various prestigious forums.

I was born when she was 27 years, by then she had settled back with Dadu and Maashi was brought back to complete the family. She always stood for selfless, unconditional love and the contribution she made in her short life cannot be summarized in these few words. She truly inspired Dadu and helped him enrich his music and gave him the freedom to pusue his career and interests. She would slog endlessly managing her job and home with equal ease along with teaching us and making us do our homework. She would earn shoulder to shoulder with Dadu but it never showed in her attitude.

GOD had bestowed upon her the beautiful virtue of forgiveness and she had a lion heart. Her good deeds were independant of all human factors like love, relationship or vested interests. She would silently pray at Amarnath and Mansarover for all, even for persons with malicious and hurtful intentions.

When I left home at the age of eighteen to study out, she stared at me quietly from outside the train window and said, "Timpoo, I know you will never come back now! You are going for good, but never lose sight of the values instilled in you because after I die that will be your only guiding force." I was too excited and desperate to start a new life and did not quite try to understand the meaning of those words. But, today I do................

K~, when I recall those moments of decorating and annointing Dida's dead body ..... never knew it could be so painful to give the final bath to a person who had given me my first baths, I was trying to desperately hold on to those cold hands that rocked me, covering that bosom and womb that nurtured me and bowing myself for the very last time to those feet that blessed me .......... I was too numb and kept calling out in full blown shrieks ...."Maa, Maa, Maa, Maa......................................" but she would just not wake up this time..............even to those helpless cries of mine.

She rested in peace and looked awesome in that orange, Benarasi saree of hers which she had worn for her wedding. She looked beautiful!!! That was the last time I saw of her ...........

When she was being taken away for the last rites, there was a huge tearful crowd to bid her farewell .......... almost sixty of her students ... a girl student had fainted in fact ........ her colleagues ....... relatives.......servants......... and all had one thing to say ........

"She was such a great lady ..... Why did she have to go this soon?"

K~, it is because of her good deeds that we live in such happiness and prosperity .......

Let us Thank Her For That!!!!

K~ and a small prayer

We thank you GOD with all our heart and soul .......

For our lovely home where we all live and laugh together.

For the cool, comfortable air-conditioned nights this summer.

For the hot water, sweaters, shawls and quilts last winter.

For the delicious and wholesome food we eat every day.

For the healthy body and sound mind to appreciate all the above.

For the memorable vacations and travel we made hand in hand.

For Papa who made the “Barbie” sandwich this morning for breakfast.

For Papa who stands like a tough wall hedging us against the big bad world and the inconstant time.

For Papa who endowed us these years of togetherness and learning while earning the daily bread.

For Papa letting us preserve our innocence and hearty giggles by bearing all the worries and frowns himself.

For Papa helping us treasure the purity of our soul, spirit and zeal by pirating and shelling his own.

For Papa who is awake scheming money and security for our future while we cosy up and sleep peacefully.

For Dadu, Baba and Dadi who shower their unconditional affection and blessings on us.

For Bua, Phupha, Maashi and Mesho who bring all their love and goodies that we relish for long.

For all the worthy toys and puzzles that accelerate our development and growth.

For the enduring and diligent teachers who groom us for the future at our cherished school.

For all our true friends and life mates who are the real anchors of our vast, berserk lives.

For the daily HAPPINESS that exists in the form of flowers, rain, grass and sunshine.

Thank You, Dear GOD,
Could not have asked for more ………

The ‘Evening Walk’ Musing

(Based on my evening walk experiences in a Gurgaon neighbourhood)

I begin my walk at 6 pm.

The sky is dusky and the air, pleasant! I am about to see some people. I meet them every evening. But, we have never spoken. They are anonymous. Silently, I have titled them with special names that seem to rhyme with their disposition.

Aha! Hello Ms. Rhea. You must be in your late thirties, I guess. You look perfect from head to toe - the streaked bouncy hair and smooth cheeks give you a fresh salon look. The branded jogging shorts coupled with your bra sports top accentuate your sleek body. Your waxed legs perfectly justify those expensive sports shoes. You just might give the budding models a run for their money.

Pray, why don’t you ever respond to the main gate security guard who salutes us with such fervour, “Good Ebheening, Madam ji”? You also seem to look through me, choosing to ignore my smiles. I try hard to look beyond your well-kept fringe...don’t seem to reach anywhere! I also wish to see the family, your kids and husband – who are never seen around you... even on weekends.

Bye, Madame Rhea, for now.

Who do I stumble upon next? Well. Here comes this small group of lively male senior citizens. Greetings of the day to you all! Awasthi Uncle, Gupta Uncle, Sehgal Uncle. What do I see? Loud bouts of laughter and a slow contended walk. Hmm! What a relief it is indeed to have completed all duties in life. Are the kids settled well? And, is your sugar and blood pressure under control? Weren’t the tax savings great this year? I know it is quite enjoyable to have a good time reading the daily newspaper, watching the daily soap and eyeing the daily share trading trends. And, of course, bird-watching Madame Rhea among others! Your old yet hungry eyes share some mischievous glances with each other each time she rushes past you.

But wait! Why have you left Awasthi Auntie, Gupta Auntie and Sehgal Auntie behind? Remember those long years when she took such good care of you and the children? Did you ask her a cup of tea this morning?

Take care, till we meet again!

There! Now, I spot Awasthi Auntie, Gupta Auntie and Sehgal Auntie amid many more Aunties. They are doing something sitting quietly in a circle. Shhh! You all are meditating. I hope my presence didn’t disturb you. And what is that young lady in a white sari talking about? Spirituality, I see. She’s teaching how to detach oneself from worldly affairs, increase self-realisation through prayers that calm the mind and soul. You have lived a good and comfortable life. Haven't you? Now, you are looking for a higher self-existence, I guess. Or is it some kind of vacuum that pushes you to seek happiness and peace here. How are the kids? Did they call you this weekend?

The devotional songs sung by you are so soothing. Please carry on.

Good gracious! Another set of Aunties, angry ones this time. Why do you sound so bitter? Aha! I know. The maid missed work today or was it your son’s wife who put too much salt in the curry? Your boys are such perfect men. They deserve perfect wives. But, your daughter-in-law is so full of venom to complain everyday about the mundane life to her husband. After all, you can rightfully get all cooking, washing and cleaning done by her. You have done the same in your heydays. Now, dare she rebel! Listen carefully to Dutta Auntie. She has quite a few tips to share on taming bahus. What? She was crying over the phone today while talking to her parents? That was so wicked of her. Don't worry. She cannot flee and will continue to serve you as long as you want.

But, where is she? I have never seen her come out for fresh air!

Who do I meet next?

Hi Diya! I hope your board exams went off well. You turn slim and shapely with each passing day. Not surprising though. You go for endless ‘walks and talks’. You also miss those high calorie ice-creams that your friends eat at the corner shop. But, why do you blush red and pink as you chat endlessly over your mobile phone? Are you talking with your first boyfriend? Or, is it a crush? You want to tell him all about what happened with you today and how you kept missing him terribly. What innocent talks and giggles! Enjoy these first flushes of teen hormones and romance as long as they last. Sheer Bliss! But, please don’t lose the loving connect with your parents as well.

Be Happy! Bye bye.

Here comes the best part of my walk. Good evening to all you kids at the park.

Muaah! Pucch!!

Your joyful cries and happy shrieks can be heard from far. You make your surroundings so joyful infecting everyone with a carefree spirit and an infectious laughter. There goes the swing, up and down, down and up, with your long queue waiting for turns. A swing is the most disputed park equipment. You all want it, and all the time. And then, there are the noisy hinges of see-saw that screech as you scream. What fun to see you little apes climb up and down the monkey ladder. Wow! The sand castles strewn all over the sand play area look so delightful.

God bless you all, my darlings!

Phew! I feel tired. What is the time now? Almost quarter to seven...time for me to return home.

Kriti must be getting restless, considering that she doesn’t allow me to go out of sight even for a minute. But, she better get used to my evening walks. I love snatching these few moments of relaxation and imagination. After all, how much is an hour out of twenty four? Come on, be reasonable, my dear girl.

As I walk hurriedly towards home, there is a sudden flow of energy and joy surging through my blood.

I am coming home Kriti. We will play the best game, eat the best dinner and read the best bedtime story together!

I really love you so much. I am because you are.

K~ - Gender Bias ..... "I anyways anyways don't like the boys".

Let me admit that K~ has a very strong gender bias. She displays all possible hate actions against the MALE species mercilessly, to the extent that even her own father has not been spared from it.

I feel it is rooted partially in her childhood. To add to it is the fact that she is too high on EQ (Emotional Quotient), perhaps way too high that could be termed as fine or correct for her age. This analysis has nothing to do with the fact that I am her parent, or owing to the specialness she holds for me but this statement is collectively based on the feedback of various teachers over the last three years coupled with her behaviour trends towards all.

K~ was born under special circumstances when I lost my dear Maa in a tragic road accident, pregnant with K~ over eight months ..... considered to be quite an advanced stage of pregnancy. You can guess what hell must have followed and to make matters worse my father and sister both were hospitalised following the same accident. They had their backbone fractured in the horrible mishap. I was scattered in my mind, broken in my heart, numb in my soul and relentless towards my body when taking care of the last rites and commuting with food everyday to the hospital to take care of my ailing family. S+, my husband took care of the general FIR, post mortem reports, insurance, banks etc. etc. Although he was by my side all this while, I can cross my heart and say that I neglected myself physically and was in a perpetual state of mourning 24X7. In the middle of the night, I would wake up and open my mother's almirah to smell her clothes and squat down over the floor staring into blankness. There were her shoes, purse, notes and musical instruments all over the house and I would keep grieving silently all the time. I guess it must have affected the K~ inside me, almost ready to be born.

Presently, she gets impacted tremendously both negatively and positively which stays inside her for a long, long time. (I assume that is also where her introvert attitude stems from; Or she could have taken to her Mumma who is not really a great outgoing, heavily social person. But, I am fine with it owing to the fact that all types of people exist in this world and all of them stay happy and do well. )

Anyway, coming back to the causes of K~ 's gender bias, there could be a few probable reasons which led to this behaviour. Let me list them all :

1. The little boys who played pranks on K~ by pulling her hair, pushing her off the swing, scratching her cheeks and the worst of all, threw stones at her once when she was a toddler. I have never believed in protecting K~ from any outside threat unless it was life threatening. So, I just allowed it to happen and let K~ develop her own defence mechanism ...... which has always been fleeing towards the safe arms of Mumma .... Ha!

2. She has tried to connect with little boys innumerable times, by inviting them to play with her puzzles, dolls and pretend friends. Alas! Guns and cars were the only things that fancied them and they would keep toppling over her doll house arrangement and completed puzzles leaving her in a state of utter shock and dismay.

3. K~ since her infant days has been comforted by Mumma. There have been innumerable nights (Well! almost six months non-stop) when I have stayed awake feeding and playing with her from midnight till wee hours of the morning. I had tried to make it a pleasant experience for her by playing on some soft music and rattles for her. In the silence of the night, she has experienced a deep connect with me ..... hearing a motherly soft voice and feeling the softness ...... K~ related feminine voices with love and affection instantly made obvious by her preference for Dadi over Baba, Bua over Phupha, Maashi over Mesho and the most painful of all .... Mumma over Papa. Papa was available to her only in the evenings or weekends ..... again someone has to do the bread winning ..... right?

All the above led to K~ getting opinionated against the boys ......

But, I am sure she will get over it soon. She would be speaking and sitting with boys too in her class instead of clinging on to her three girl classmates. She would walk up to them fearlessly and bash them up if they do any wrong to her ..... till then my baby belongs to the Mahila Mukti Aandolan.

Way to go K~ ........ boys aren't so bad ....... trust me ........ you just have to find the right one!!!!!

Horlicks Cake!!

K~ is very fond of eating cakes. But, the thought of preservatives and baking chemicals mixed into it puts me off!

I discovered how to make this healthy cake with wholewheat flour and horlicks minus the baking powder and K~ simply loves to gorge upon it.

Q- Why do I need to blog it?

A- So that K~ can make it for her own kid in future, if I am not around to share it with her.

Ingredients

Eggs - 3 Nos.

Sugar - 1.5 teacup

Butter - 1.5 teacup

Wholewheat Flour - 1 teacup

Chocolate horlicks - 1/2 teacup

Vanilla Essence - few drops

Method

Beat the eggs, sugar and butter together with a whisker. The idea is to aerate the mixture as much as possible so that it becomes light and fluffy. Since we are not using any baking powder later, it become important to do this bit thoroughly.

Sift the flour through a fine sieve and fold in the flour into the above mixture slowly.

Mix in the chocolate horlicks powder into it along with a few drops of vanilla essence.

Bake it like any other cake or cook it in microwave for 5 minutes in an oil/flour coated dish or on a layer of butter paper.

Take it out on a plate after it cools down.

Enjoy!!!

Hakeekat!!

A few lines composed by me ....

खडे हैं हकीकत-ऐ-आईने के सामने,
खुद से वाकिफ होने को आज.
अब्र अबरार को तरसता, दरिया रास्ता ढूंढती है.
शबनम सहर को चीखती तो बूँद समंदर- जुदा होती है आज.
करार-ऐ-ज़िन्दगी में इतनी बेकरारी क्यूँ?
सुकून-ऐ-मोहब्बत में यह तन्हाई कैसी है आज?
इन सबकी वजह पूछते हैं हम?
आईने से ख़ाक हटी तब नज़र आया है आज,
या मौला! ज़िन्दगी हमने यूँ ही गँवा दी थी.
बढ़ते रहे कदम जिस तरफ, वो तो हासिल-ऐ-मंजिल थी.
वक़्त कम है बहुत, जीना है फिर एक बार,
खुदा ताकत दे हमें, ख़्वाबों को हकीकत बनाना है आज.

Classification of Bloggers

My short stint at blogging has exposed me to various kinds of blogs leading to a general understanding of their owners, which I would like to share with all of you.

Bloggers can be classified into the following 5 types:

1. GENUINE BLOGGER

The first sign of a genuine blogger is that he would have started blogging since 2005-06. He has an original content and narration style. He writes for himself and really does not care what others think about it. He catches hold of one topic like food, spirituality, travel, beauty management, training etc. etc. and will never ever deviate from it. He belongs to that breed of self-contented individuals who follow a passion ....... even if it is percieved to be complete trash and waste by others.

2. FRESH BLOGGER

The feature that sets this kind of blogger apart is his frequency of posting blogs. He would be manufacturing blogs at an unbelievable pace almost every morning, afternoon and night ............ All of a sudden, his extremely well written and formatted comments would be visible all over the well established GENUINE blogs with the hope of diverting those readers into his own recent blog through his blog profile. He would tirelessly choke the mailboxes of his close friends and acquaintance through sending his blog detail everyday and very cleverly adding his blog link at the end of his email signatures - both personal and professional. He tries to write very passionately about everything under the sun to attract all kind of blog readers acting like a broad spectrum medicine dose killing many diseases at one go.

He has this innate desire to study his blog with the help of Google Analytics which helps one know about the visitor's profiles, age, interest, countries and most visited pages, even if his blog has 2 visits in a day. He would open his blog account with the undying hope to moderate comments even if there are none. In the end, the only comments on his blog would be that of his own or his spouse.

And after a few days ....... he would calm down ......... guess his urge to blog gets over just like a tired fifty year old man dropping dead following forced sex completion on the bed after a long haul.

3. FOLLOWGGER

Blogging has become a fashion statement. It has become synonymous with great intellectual abilities and a sound knowledge tank. So, here we have a few aspiring bloggers who get impressed by the efforts of GENUINE BLOGGER and follow his footsteps into blogging. They can be very rightly called as FOLLOWGGERs.

A few features are very similar to the FRESH BLOGGER with regards to the marketing style of his blog through emails, blog commenting and email signatures. The blog writing frequency and wit is however directly proportional to the GENUINE BLOGGER whom they are following.

4. CELEBRITY BLOGGER

Like Big B for Bid Adda(of the Reliance...Anil Ambani fame.....Amar Singh ji's accomplice.... do I need to write more????), Celina Jaitley for iTimes ............ list could go on and on. Do you really think celebrities have the time for blogging? You must be really naive to trust that. Those poor netizens who actually leave comments for the celebrity to read don't know that it will never be.

Big corporate houses rope in the big names to increase their popularity and hits on website by engaging some writer (better than me, of course) to write it for them. Google Ad Sense, Ad Words ....... all follow the celebrity. I mean does Celina Jaitely even know enough about Article 377 related to Gay Rights to blog about it getting advertised on the national newspapers?

Sadly, today everything is commercialised.... death, birth, accident .......

Jaago Grahak Jaago .......

5. DEAD BLOGGER

They can be further classified into two types:

1. Accidental creation of blog profile through gmail ID when visiting a blog link and commenting.

2. An unsuccessful effort to be a FOLLOWGER by creating an impressive blog profile by listing current occupation, B-School associations, glorifying self-description ......... but, no posts!!!!

And then, there could be a combination of one or two of above in a person like DEAD turning into FOLLOWGER into GENUINE. A GENUINE roped in to be a CELEBRITY ....... it can go on endlessly.

Presently, I percieve myself more close to the second category ....... how about you?

Addition and Subtraction

K~ manages to do addition and subtraction related to numbers 0-10, with the help of her fingers, that is. Today, I decided to find out whether she understands the application of these very basic math concepts in her real life. In simpler words, what ADDITION and SUBTRACTION really meant! After explaining what is to be done on the activity sheet, this is what I gave her to do this morning, the results of which led to a lot of teaching introspection by me ... I had definitely gone wrong :

Mumma :: "So, K~. If you add this square to the left window, how will it look?"

K~ :: "Mumma, how do I use my fingers?"

Mumma :: "Addition does not mean that you keep using your fingers all the time. It means logically counting two things together. Do cheezon ko milaana ..... "

K~ :: "Matlab, mujhe iss window ke saath iss chotu square ko milaana hai?" (Refer to picture 1 - "Add")

Mumma :: "Haan."

K~ was finally able to do it. The subtraction was difficult initially (infact she got the first one wrong - refer to picture 2 - "Subtract").

The above exercise set me thinking ...... my girl was doing subtraction and addition error-free, but only on her fingers, just the way I taught her. Pity! that I never went around explaining her why do we do it? How will she use it use it in her real life. I immediately went to the garden, plucked a flower from a plant with 4 flowers and asked her "K~, what is 4-1=?" and pat came the reply - "3". Opened the pack of 10 biscuits, made her eat 4, asked for the balance, and there was my baby, replying with complete understanding. I wish I could express the excitement in her eyes through words.

Starting now, I have decided that before I begin with any teaching, I will first make her understand the application of it in our lives.

I continued ......

Mumma :: "K~, why do we write alphabets?"

K~ :: "Ummmm....."

Mumma :: "So that we can write things like books, letters which help us to tell others what we are thinking. So that you can know about interesting places without visiting them. So that we can make babies learn when they grow up...."

K~ :: "And also because we can read poems ..... hai na?"

Mumma :: "Right."

We discussed at length about the real reason behind learning things together like colours, stories, puzzles etc. etc.

We in India take pride in being the best brains in the world. We make our children write at age 3 when the rest of the world does not allow kids to hold the pencil before age 5. We are done with Differential and Integral Calculus in Std.XII, whereas it should be a Masters subject. We force our children to take up Maths, Biology or Commerce even if her heart is in Fine Arts. Thousands of Civil Engineers pass out each year from premier Engineering colleges and not one perfect highway in our country! Hundreds of MBAs are churned out by the best B-schools walking away with a jaw-dropping moolah, none of them actually knowing how to manage their own lives! Civil servants, the self-proclaimed creme-de-la-creme of the society supposedly work for their country without making an iota of difference in the life of even one citizen of the country, leave aside the nation at large.

It is because our fundamentals of education are RIGHT ..... but INCOMPLETE.

K~, this is for you ...........

Today, I want you to know that I do not expect you to become anything great in life. You do not have to do BIG things in life, but do SMALL things in a BIG way! I set you free from any of the parental ambitions or aspirations. I have not been a great academician or scholar myself and I do not expect you to do that bit for me. I will not entertain anybody who will come enquiring about your marks in the final examination followed by an unsolicited remark - whether good or bad with you listening from behind the doors. I refuse to DECIDE for what is best for you and your future. The very fact that I gave birth to you makes you special. You do not have to prove worthy of it.

Go my precious ..... follow your heart, chase your dreams! Discover your true passion. I am here to shield you from the rest of the society!!

K~ ..... Purchase Requisition & Discard

MONDAY - 6:30 am

Mumma :: "Good Morning, betu. Hungry?"

K~ :: "Yesss! I want to eat cream biscuits."

Mumma :: "Sorry. Khatam ho gaya. Aaj shaam ko Needs shop se le aayengey."

K~ :: "Theek hai."

****

TUESDAY - 5:00 pm

K~ :: "Aaah! Mumma, all my crayons have become so small. I want new ones."

Mumma :: "Sure. Let us go to the stationery right away. Bring my scooter keys."

****

WEDNESDAY - 1:00 pm

K~ :: (sob sob) "I am sad, Mumma. Anish has a puppy at home .... to play with and he is so happy. I am not."

Mumma :: "Don't worry. You can have a pup too ......... only if you promise to feed, clean, stroll him. I cannot do it. Will you?"

K~ :: "Ummmm...... Mumma, abhi toh mai bahut choti hoon. I will not be able to do all the work."

Mumma :: "Theek hai, we will get one when you will be big enough to take care of him. Is that ok?"

K~ :: " Sigh ..... Ok."

****

SUNDAY - 9:00 am

K~ :: (howling in tears)....... "Mumma, I don't like the Papa."

Mumma :: "Why? What happened?"

K~ :: "He always screams at me for playing guitar. I want to sing and play music in the bedroom. Tell him to go."

Mumma :: "But, why did Papa scold you? What was he doing?"

K~ :: "He was watching sada hua News."

Pause.

K~ :: (contd.) "I want a new Papa .... Right now! I don't like this Papa ......." (boo -hoo!!)

Mumma :: "????????"

****

Dadu and Chukchuki

K~,

This poem was composed by your Dadu when you were 10 months old. He had unfortunately lost Dida ......... almost 2 months before you were born.

He always addresses you as chukchuki. Although you might not prefer to be called by this name, it has taken a liking to his bengali instincts and he refuses to call you anything else:-)

मेरी प्यारी चुकचुकी,

मन के टूटे आँगन में, जब बगिया सारी सूख चली,

न जाने इस मरुभूमि में कब सुंदर सी कली खिली।

संयोग-वियोग का खेल हुआ, उपवन उजड़ा बिछडा माली,

व्यथित हुए तन-मन में आई फिर उमंग भरने वाली।

कौन जगत से आई हो तुम? ऐ! पथिक, अविरल पथ की,

क्या माँ के आँचल की शोभा, या हो नयानमणि सबकी।

पर्वत की सरिता सी चंचल, जल तरंग सी किलकारी,

पल में हंसना, फिर रोना यूँ, धुप - छाँव की खिल्वारी।

नन्ही कली सी लगती हो पर, मन कहता बोलूँ तितली,

मेघा बोलूँ या स्वाती फिर, नील गगन सी श्यामली।

किस पंछी की उपमा दूँ, या संज्ञा दूँ फूलों की,

सृष्टि की तुम अनुपम रचना, पर हो कृति विधाता की।

नन्हे नन्हे हाथों से और कोमल मुख के भावों से,

अभिनव दंग है समझाने का, इंगित और इशारों से।

ठुमक ठुमक कर चलना सीखा, जैसे हो मदमाती चाल,

कब तुतला कर बोलोगी, अपनी शब्दों का मायाजाल।

प्रथम बसंत की बेला में, देता हूँ आशीष तुम्हें,

निश्छल, निर्मल बनी रहो, परपंच न छुए कभी तुम्हें।

आए हैं सब प्यार बांटने, ले लो चाहे जितना प्यार,

नन्हे नन्हे हाथों से क्या बाँध सकोगी यह उपहार?

- स्नेहाशीष दादू

K~ .... The Human body .... Unexplained

K~ is very curious. Very curious indeed about the human body! I wish to record some of the enlightening moments we have shared together.
As a parent, I have been deeply influenced by the thoughts of the great educator, A.S. Neill, Founder of Summerhill School. If I were to sum up his philosophy of raising kids, it would be as simple as "A child's education should not hamper her growth." He has touched upon all subjects related to child development ranging from Food, Hygiene, Habits, Books, Manners, Masturbation, Sex, GOD................ in a book titled "Summer hill", read by me over ten times to hardwire my parental faculties as per his thoughts. For the interested lot, here is a link - http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/A._S._Neill

Coming back to K~ and her mis/adventures, mis/interpretations about the human body:

K~ at one year

K~ developed a very irritating habit. She would want to sleep, caressing and cuddling my bosom all the time. I was bothered by it. In fact, she developed a fetish for it. She must have practiced the same on persons across all ages, gender and status starting with my maid, her Dadi, her own father and of course, Me. On certain occasions, it really embarrassed me to no limits, more so, in front of strangers. I tried to understand this strange behavior of hers. One night, I seemed to solve the puzzle. Actually, I had re-joined office when she was still feeding on me, after a year of her birth. She would not feel my presence the whole day. For her, bosom represented "Mother", which she would desperately try to find in all the persons around her. I stopped bothering myself on that. And trust me; the habit died its natural death when I quit work again after a year and a half - this time for good, to make sure I am always around for her.

K~ at three and half years

By now, K~ had learnt the names of all human body parts thanks to the books I got for her. Sadly, the book never named the private parts. K~ bestowed her own very creative names on them. The breasts were called aisey-aisey and genitals were named as shame-shame.

A sample conversation between K~ and her Dadi -

K~ :: "Dadi, tum kahan gayi thi?"

Dadi :: "Bathroom gayi thi."

K~ :: "Kya karney gayi thi?"

Dadi :: "Wahi jo tum karney jaati ho."

K~ :: "Shusshu?"

Dadi :: "Haan."

By now, I had sensed this K~ and Dadi conversation was not moving in the right direction. I tried to change the course by asking Amma, a fond name for my mother-in-law, "Amma, aloo jeerey se chonk lagaaon ki pyaaj se?" Alas! All my efforts failed and K~ managed to embarras me one more time. The balance talks were as follows:

K~ :: "Dadi, tumhaari shame-shame kaisi hai?"

Dadi :: "Waisey hi, jaisi tumhari hai."

K~ :: "Girls ki boys se alag hoti hai na?"

Dadi :: "Haan, Beta."

Silence.

Dadi :: "Chalo, ab park chalein?"

K~ :: "Yipeeee"

The End.

Amma never spoke about it. I appreciate her patience and maturity even to this day. We as adults need to understand that a child perceives even the private body parts as any other part like nose, eyes etc. It is upon us to answer all these questions honestly without making a fuss about it or joking/avoiding it away. More often than not, we are the ones to be blamed for perverting our child's thoughts by not giving straight answers and not satisfying their mind. The child strays elsewhere for answers and gets exploited in some cases.

K~ a few months later was explained two rules by me, which she happily complies with even today:

Rule 1: "Always ask any questions related to shame-shame and aisey-aisey to Mumma or Papa. I promise to answer them all."

Rule 2 : "You will be called a bad girl if you talk about it to everybody because such things are to be answered only by parents."

Since then, I have answered series of questions on the forbidden topics ranging from Boy's shame-shame, sanitary napkins which she calls girl diapers, boys wearing vests and girls wearing bra etc. etc. I can assure you, K~ has never spoken to any person other than me, even if that meant whispering her question into my ears in public. She never giggles- well, most of the times, like many other children do regarding underwear, potty or sussu (Not that I see anything wrong in innocent giggles; I remember doing the same as a kid, but such matters do not interest K~ anymore). She doesn't find it funny at all! I guess I have finally managed to satisfy her queries.

K~ at five years

One of my very close friends, Pee Jee had come to stay with me for an evening. She was 28 weeks pregnant and was carrying a reasonably huge belly. K~ kept staring at her belly bump for quite some time and then here is the conversation that happened between me and K~

Scene 1 - Sitting Room

K~ :: "Mumma, ek minute idhar aao."

Mumma :: "Aati hoon, zaraa Pee Jee auntie ke saath baat toh kar loon."

K~ :: "Abhi aao. Kucch poochna hai."

Mumma :: "Accha poocho."

Scene 2 - Bedroom

K~ :: "Mumma, why is Pee Jee aunty's tummy so big?"

Mumma~ :: "Because, there is a baby inside it."

K~ :: "Accha. But, when will it come out?"

Mumma :: "When it is as big as your new-born photo which was clicked in the hospital. The blue album, you remember?"

K~ :: "Yes.....ummmm....I was also inside your tummy?"

Mumma :: "Yes, you were."

K~ :: "How did I come out?"

Mumma :: "The doctor took you out of me in the hospital through an operation."

K~ :: "Hmmm.........Mumma, babies bahut cute hotey hain na? I know how to clean them and look after them."

Mumma :: "Yes, betu, you can. Ab main jaaoon? Pee Jee Aunty is waiting for me."

K~ :: "Mumma, I want to play with a baby too. I want a baby now."

Well, this time Mumma faints!

The Little Mermaid

K~ :: "Mumma, read me a story. I am not ready to sleep yet."

Me :: "Betu, Mumma is very tired. She has to wake up very early tomorrow."

("Huhh!" , "Uff!" - series of sighing and hissing followed by even worse, unending tossing and turning on the bed by K~)

Finally, K~ won. I switched on the reading lights again and asked her to choose a story she would like me to read aloud. Dart !! ........ she went to her storybook drawer and got a bedtime book.

It was "The Little Mermaid" ......... a story which had tears rolling down my eyes each time I read it with my heart and soul. An eternal story of true love and sacrifice. A quick recap of the story for the disconnected-from-childhood ones:

This love story is about a fifteen-year old mermaid princess - "Ariel" who falls in love with a human prince - "Eric", after rescuing him from clutches of a sea strom into the safe shores leaving him unconscious and unaware about it. Her undying love for him forces her to buy a magic potion made by Ursula, the sea-witch, which would transform her into a human princess. Alas! She paid a very heavy price for it through losing her voice to the sea-witch who also forewarned about her death if "Eric" married any princess other than her.

The next morning, the kind prince "Eric" carried the human princess transformed "Ariel" to his royal palace. "Ariel" was shocked to witness the wedding preparations of the prince to another princess. She was too late. She could not communicate her love for him or the sea-witch's spell on her and cried aloud on the sea-shore feeling lonely without her family, to whom she could never return. Suddenly, her sisters appeared from the sea with a dagger given by Ursula, the sea-witch. "Pierce this dagger into the prince' heart and you would get your voice and mermaid body back. Come back, "Ariel"and live happily with us!", said one of them.

"Ariel" could not kill the prince, even if that meant dying herself. She threw the dagger back into the sea and went back to see "Eric", still happy and unaware of the love "Ariel" preserved for him. She gave him one last kiss and plunged into the ocean, rose higher and higher into the sky to be a fairy. There was a heavenly voice which said " You are one of us now. Come with us. with your good deeds you have earned an immortal soul."

"The End!" I said to K~, who was still into the book as if she never wanted to come out of it. She looked beautiful in the soft reading light cosying up to me in the same blanket.

"But, Mumma.", she mumbled, "Did "Ariel" die, you mean?"

The rest of the conversation was as follows:

Mumma - " Yes! K~, the mermaid princess died. She died so that the prince could live happily."

K~ - "Not a good story. The prince was bad because he did not marry her."

Mumma - "But K~, how could she have possibly told the prince about her love. She lost her voice to Ursula, the witch and the prince was unconscious when "Ariel" had saved her."

K~ - " But, he should have known. Bad Prince."

Mumma - "K~, the prince was not bad. Ursula, the witch was bad. Why did she have to take "Ariel's" voice in return of the magic potion. Had she not done it, "Ariel" could have easily told the prince about her love for him. Don't I keep telling you, my precious K~, that I love you so much?"

K~ - "Mumma, even if you stop telling me, I will always know how much you love me."

I was silenced for ever. K~ had won, yet again.

"Night-night, K~.", I replied, so touched by her words, almost choking with tears. She cuddled up to me and went off to sleep peacefully. I got up a few minutes later and wrote the following lines.........

How could you miss the love in her eyes?

Still watching you from above the skies.

Why could you not hear her heart?

Which had the power to tear the sea apart.

She, all but fifteen, lived for you, and died for you.

Wake up, Prince! Feel her love, so pure and true.