Of Skin Colour and Stepmothers .......

I feel confused .... each time that I read a story to K~ which perennially potrays Stepmothers as witchy and bitchy and the fairest skin attracting the richest and handsome Prince. I keep thinking about the long term ill effects of these stories and feel a strong urge to graduate K~ to the more sensible desi story books like Jataka Tales, Panchatantra, Adventures of Meena and many more. Alas! These simple and humble books do not take to K~'s fancy as much as their english counterparts which are better packaged with bright colours and glossy pages with attractive pictures and more often encouraged and promoted by her school teacher.

Be it the Stepmother of Snow White or Cinderella or the Hansel and Gretel duo or Beauty ...... she is never at peace with herself and inflicts atrocities on her step kids who are the central characters. In real life, my experience has been contrary where I have met two stepmoms who have proved their ability to love and accept previous kids of their husband with such natural and effortless passion and affection that if undisclosed no mortal could have ever realised the stepness. For the sake of providing an identity let me name them as Mrs. Ghosh and Mrs. Chitaley .... such lovely women. Mrs. Ghosh, a homoeopath practitioner was married in her late thirties to the then widower, Mr.Ghosh with an adorable four year old daughter Lota. She embraced Lota with an effortless ease befriending her at first and then slowly enticing her through her interesting games and culinary skills. I could hear their happy chuckles and rare disagreements from the backyard of my house every morning pleasantly surprised each time as my notions set in childhood regarding stepmoms got smashed. We were not really family friends, therefore losing contact after we shifted our residence elsewhere but every year during Durga Pujo I spotted them in Kali Bari just like any other mom-daughter duo. She would hang around with her mom more than she did with her dad. Mrs. Chitaley had a similar story too. The only difference being that she was a divorcee with a daughter of her own before she remarried Mr. Chitaley, a widower with a two year son. What a complete and happy family they make! Touchwood! She thrashes the naughty son just like her own, a complete brat that he is and spends sleepless afternoons painfully making him do his homework and teaching. And yet, the son comes running to hug his (step)Mom each time she steps out to make her (step)Son empty the glass of milk that he left behind on the dining table.

GOD could not be present everywhere ... so he made MOTHER to let each being experience HIS unconditional and boundless love through her. Each woman has been endowed with immense motherly capabilities which takes precedence over many other important personal desires like her career, her interests, her body so much so that it overpowers all her relationships and she lands up being a mother to her husband, her parents and in-laws taking care of them and feeling responsible towards their needs. Pity that we equate (step)mothers with such hostility and treachery in the young and unassuming minds right in their formitive years.

The other fact that keeps poking my mind is the glorification of the white, beautiful skin. K~ is dusky, just like me, but her sharp features and twinkling eyes make her attractive. When I read such elaborate beauty descriptions where "Snow White has skin as white as snow and lips as red as blood, Cinderella was the fairest amongst all and the Prince would not dance with any other lady" .... K~ would start wondering if she is fine in her looks. She would want to become like them and would want to be married to some handsome and rich prince in future .... What the Hell! How do I convince her that it is the inner beauty which makes any girl more adorable than her skin. And that appearing attractive is not an ambitious goal ... is it? There are better objectives in life .... career, shaping lives of family members etc. She would stare at herself at the mirror and ask "Mirror, Mirror on the wall, Who is fairest of them all?" adjusting her hair and moderating her facial expressions to look beautiful. She wants to apply Fair and Lovely, a skin whitening cream, unfortunately encouraged by some of the family members too. It is sad that stories read to children in the best of intentions can lead to such dangerous obsessions. Why should girls be potrayed as items to be displayed to kings and princes. Why are girls never shown as the ruling and strong characters? Why does Mumma Bear cook, wash and clean when Papa Bear reads and Baby Bear plays in the garden? Why does stepmother make Snow White eat a poisoned apple and Cinderella gets harassed?

There is a prevailing sense of helplessness in me as a parent because these age old stories which are highly promoted actually harms the mindset of our children ..... Each time that K~ effortlessly narrates these stories and appreciates the applause that follows, such notions and bias actually deepen further into her innocent mind.

K~ and Imagination

I read this newpaper article today morning which establishes that children do have a very real imaginary world and that actually facilitates development of various mental and logic faculties. A link of which is below:

http://www.pressdisplay.com/pressdisplay/viewer.aspx

Sure, I was relieved because K~ has always displayed extremely high indulgence in her own imaginary world, infact as early as a one year old toddler. I assume her imagination must have existed even before that but chronologically she was not physically and mentally equipped enough to express that. As a parent, I never bothered most of the times when she would be yapping non-stop into the thin air, but I must admit having eerie feelings when she refused to recognize me if I ever intruded in her world, probably to feed her or change her and would shoo me away locking the door behind her in utter disgust.

The first instances of K~ losing herself to imagination started when she was a year old. She would clutch to the telephone reciever and squeak, grunt and laugh for lack of proper speech .... which would continue for spells lasting alomost 15-20 minutes. I was amused at such behaviour especially when she would stop responding to my real conversation as if she was completely lost into the other person whom she was supposedly speaking with.

She made imaginary friends, mostly girls with whom she would be playing all her favourite games .... doll house, cooking and buying things. Later, she involved imaginary bad characters, mostly boys .... Akshat, the naughty classmate, Shopkeeper, the cheat, Sly and Gobo, the ill characters of Noddy stories ....... and she would win over them each time with the help of her girlfriends. In the best of her moods, I would enact her girlfriends and her father would be forced to enact Akshat, Shopkeeper, Sly and Gobo .... poor Papa to be screamed at, manipulated and in some cases beaten up and sent away ..... remorselessly!!! Ha!

K~ learns and performs better in her imaginary world. I remember her opening three homework copies and distributing it to her imaginary classmates whenever she sits down to do her own. She would be giggling with them and complaning to Me, of course the Bhawna Madam, her teacher about Akshat having soiled his underwear or scribbled all wrong things on her notebook. What fun she derived out of me screaming and punishing those boys! She would quickly finish her homework and whatever I would teach her with rapt attention to beat all her imaginary classmates. I would be surprised at times with her abilities to learn and comply .... it still continues even today for the benefit of her fast grasping and easy teaching style .... and of course FUN !

Enacting stories is another manifestation of her very strong imagination. She would dress up with toy crowns on her head to become Snow White or the well dressed Cinderella, tie torn towels around her waist to become the ill treated Cinderella. She becomes so involved enacting those stories that everything seems real then .... the dressing mirror turns into the magic mirror, the garden twig into a magic wand, her Bata shoes into dainty glass shoes, toy house into the magic carriage to carry her to the palace. She would herself do the bit of ugly characters too like step mothers, Wolf or Rumpelstiltskin. Dialogues would flow out effortlessly in perfect English and she would grasp for breath in between .... she would be falling short of air owing to her playing and changing into characters so quickly. There is some kind of a magic in the air ....

And when its all over .... she would come looking for me and hug around me tightly to come back to the real world, me being her anchor.

All of this has really helped K~ evolve into whatever she is today ....

K~ imagined writing, and she learnt her first alphabets with ease!

K~ imagined skating, and she balanced herself within fifteen minutes at the first go!

K~ imagined speaking, and she speaks with a distinct style of expression, very unlike her age!

K~ imagines reading her by heart story books, and she is learning reading simple words with ease!

What a powerful tool can Imagination be .....

I feel true Imagination has the power to heal, facilitate and bear results if used constructively. It is the door to success and key to all our problems.

For you K~,

I imagine you to be a very Happy person in future, following your true passion and possessing an all round developed persona. I imagine you to be a person, pristine and pure creating happy individuals through your associations and good deeds. I imagine living with you forever and ever and ever......

Amen!!

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!!!