The other day in the morning while I was dropping jispa to school, she was a little cross with me. She said that Jasmine and I were making too much fun of her for a particular thing. Yup. But Jispa don’t you make fun of us too. Don’t you make fun of me? When mom does something, we make fun of her and when dad does something mom makes fun of me. Come on man, that’s how a family works. That’s what keeps family in check.
Then I started – “you want what a monarchy is? It’s when a king rules. And now we have democracy (which I had explained to her earlier) what’s the worst thing about a king? He is answerable to no one. He is a king because he was born one or is the most powerful person.” “But can’t his ministers tell him anything?” “No Jispa, his ministers also can’t. Didn’t you read Akbar and Birbal. In spite of Akbar being wrong, Birbal couldn’t directly tell Akbar anything, so he used to think of clever ways to tell Akbar. Because if the king is pissed at you, you are in trouble. He is most insensitive to criticism. That is something we must avoid at all costs. In a democracy, I explained the most important role is that of the opposition. It’s their job to criticize” I explained. “err – what is opposition” Jispa asked. “Well… You know the Prime minister is from the Congress party.” “Yes” she said. “That is the ruling party. The other party is the opposition, and India right now that’s the BJP.” “Is it the one with the clock symbol” she asked. “no, that’s is another party. This is the NCP. The BJP is the lotus and the orange flags”. “ah yes” she said. “You see, the ruling party is always scared that whatever they do, they will be criticized. They will have to always do good stuff. If they think of something stupid then the opposition will slam them. That’s what keeps them in check”. “oohhh”. I think the penny dropped.
Just at the time we hit school and she was to be dropped off. She gets out saying “you know dad, it sounds if you are giving a lecture. What you are saying is interesting, but the way and the tone is very boring. Like you are giving a lecture”. Rascal, %%$$##@&. Luckily she was out of the car and half way to the school gate before I could react. BLAT! I came home and told Jasmine about this. Her eyes opened wide and I said “ya. That’s exactly what I was saying. The freedom to criticize authority. She just used it. I have no option but to accept”
Freedom to criticize is such a fundamental concept. I don’t think we seem to get it. We think of every criticism as an assault on our fundamental right to feel right about everything we do. We are correct and in positions of power we are God. No one in power likes to listen to criticism. Be it a parent or a boss. Why do we behave thus? Even a child’s first instinct is to reject it or take it personally. Is it a deep down genetic instinct or is it largely due to the criticism giver that we react thus. For years we have thought that those who love us don’t criticize us. So if you criticize someone do you not love them? Can you not improve, is change that hard?
I have tried and tried really hard to accept it. I have changed my first reaction from ‘screw you’ to possibly you are right. I keep telling myself that one must improve, constantly improve and to improve one must listen, come from a stand point that the other person might have something to say, or a point you might have missed. It is the most difficult thing to do. You must start by at least by understanding the counter point.
So at home, I have always encouraged Jispa to speak her mind. Speak it out loud and clear. Now as she is learning to speak I am trying to teach her to be constructive about it. While its important to be clear, its also important not to be direct and blunt about it. Be polite, sweet and bear the flaw while trying to communicate what you want to change about it. One thing this will do for sure is severely undermine authority as we traditionally understood it at home.
I was telling Jasmine to be very careful now with Jispa. We have taught her to think and to talk. She will give it back sooner or later. If Jasmine and I are not careful, we will get it back and hard. My mom had told me not to teach my daughter to argue. Don’t talk with her like this. You will regret it. Yes. I will get hurt by it, but I will surely hope not to regret it. If she is to stand in this world on her own, she will learn to give it back. What I must now surely focus on is to allow her to give it back politely and without malice. When Jispa and jasmine fight, I keep telling Jispa, ssshh… quiet. Don’t push mom thus. You might be right but understand the context and fight right. You don’t play direct and blunt. You play it slow and easy.
With me her fights are different. I listen. She gets jammed for over emphasizing a point or pushing it too far. I keep telling her – I am listening, aren’t I? Then relax and tell me the issues. It forces he rot think rather than attack. I agree to a few points. Promise to solve a few and if outside my control, I tell her I am powerless.
Hope fully she will learn to say it, hopefully as a family we will learn to accept and change a lot of things. Hopefully we won’t bite each other’s heads off. Hopefully we change for the better. One doesn’t know about change, but one is certain – absence of criticism will lead to disaster.
I came across this lovely podcast that seriously questions Apple’s Chinese vendors and their commitment to basic worker conditions. What a brilliant podcast. The criticism starts in the first part in the form a monologue given by an artist who does these shows. He uses entertainment and humor to make a brilliant point, and then he involves us in his story and makes some very direct points. He uses emotions, leads us on… just lovely, the way he says it.
The podcast then in the second part, attempts to verify his claims, allows for points and counter points, gets expert opinion and leaves you the listener to judge and take your call. In fact it ends with a difficult to refute point on sweat shops and how the west might be completely wrong in their interpretation. It leaves you to judge and take your call. It does not take a moral stand point, which too many people seem to take these days.
To my mind this is podcasting at its best – entertaining, engaging, relevant, informative and balanced.
This is how criticism must be given. Opposite view points are critical. I have maintained that there is no absolute truth. There is only your version of it. Everything can be questioned. There are always multiple sides to what we see and what we feel. Even criticism must take this into account. While you criticize, remember you too are looking at the opposite angle. Balance it. Try and see how both coexist. Your version and the other version. And only if in your mind – if these opposites reconcile, will you find …..
-------------------------------------------------------
The podcast -
http://www.thisamericanlife.org/radio-archives/episode/454/mr-daisey-and-the-apple-factory
http://www.thisamericanlife.org/radio-archives/episode/454/transcript
Mike Daisey performs an excerpt that was adapted for radio from his one-man show "The Agony and the Ecstasy of Steve Jobs." A lifelong Apple superfan, Daisey sees some photos online from the inside of a factory that makes iPhones, starts to wonder about the people working there, and flies to China to meet them. His show restarts a run at New York's Public Theater later this month. (39 minutes)
What should we make of what Mike Daisey saw in China? Our staff did weeks of fact checking to corroborate Daisey's findings. Ira talks with Ian Spaulding, founder and managing director of INFACT Global Partners, which goes into Chinese factories and helps them meet social responsibility standards set by Western companies (Apple's Supplier Responsibility page is here), and with Nicholas Kristof, columnist for The New York Times who has reported in Asian factories. In the podcast and streaming versions of the program he also speaks with Debby Chan Sze Wan, a project manager at the advocacy group SACOM, Students and Scholars Against Corporate Misbehavior, based in Hong Kong. They've put out three reports investigating conditions at Foxconn (October 2010, May 2011, Sept 2011). Each report surveyed over 100 Foxconn workers, and they even had a researcher go undercover and take a job at the Shenzhen plant. (15 minutes)
Saturday, January 28, 2012
Sunday, January 22, 2012
we know not what we want
When I was a kid I always fancied myself as an actor. I knew I had the emotional range, I knew I did not have stage fright and it surely can’t take this much to win an elocution competition. I could be loud, I could be clear and I could have tons of expressions. But the truth is… I did not win any competition. How could I? you need to take part if you want to win.
Jispa has taken part every year in her school elocution competition. She is pretty cool, loud and she loves to modulate her voice and give out emotions while reciting. But she never hit the first place yet. Either second or third. That is good for me. I always wanted her to participate but I was pretty cool, if she won or not. Winning is a combination of a lot of things. The choice of poetry is also important. It must be difficult, allow for a range of emotions, long and stuff like that. So finishing in the top tree ain’t too bad.
Especially as Jispa is home coached in elocution. A lot of them from school go for elocution or speech and drama class. I find the very idea ridiculous. Why would need a class for this. Of course as one grows up and if one wants to this up seriously then it’s important to do it professionally, but for now I think the classes for the kids in the subject is nothing but a sham. And of all people, I can do enough for her now. So far I seem to have been proven right.
Our process – first thing, Jasmine and me sit and search for the right poetry. In the English elocution, I just have to open my collection of Shel Silverstein books and there – a large collection of fun poems that allow for tone to be varied during the recital as well as allow for a crucial twist in the end. For Hindi, the problem is far more severe. Till last year, we had a collection of cheap Hindi books that helped us choose a nice poem. Fun poem. But now we have exhausted the stock. No more long, fun, interesting poems there.
So this year I hit the internet in the hope of searching for a nice poem. But I did not even know where to start – elocution poems for kids? Harivanshrai Bacchan? What should I search for? I tried a few forums, a few blogs, anything; in the hope that I would hit something at least. I had been in the past searching for a poem I heard in my school elocution competition. I remember it being funny and the guy had won the competition. All I could remember of it was – gol hai kaise dhara, gol puri papad, isliya masterji, dhara bhi gol hai, marks bhi gol hai… something something. These were just words in between. They weren’t even coherent lines of the paragraph. All these years I returned a blank.
This time while searching on the net I tried some phrases from the poem again and BINGO! It was bloody there. I found the poem. I went crazy. After all these years. I must have been in the eight grade – that’s about in the year 1989 I must have heard the poem for the first time and then I saw it again. The poem name was Vinti (full poem at the end of the blog). Wow. I read through it. It was the same funny poem. But there was one catch. It seemed too advanced for Jispa. In fact to seemed too advanced for me. I did not understand some words I did not know how to pronounce some other words. Dam. What to do?
I showed Jasmine and decided to send the print to school and let the teacher decide. It got selected and we proceeded to get Jispa to learn it. We went too sure of a lot of meanings and pronunciations so we specifically asked Jispa to get it checked form her school Hindi teacher. And we explained the general meaning of the words, sentences and the poem to Jispa. Jispa is now a pro. She put in her own emotions and all we have to do is to mildly correct it here and there. Jasmine and I are also pretty tired these days. We have our hands full managing Jispa’s hectic schedule. We hardly have any time left for practicing elocution. In the evenings, jispa comes home and eats and gets ready and poof… she is asleep.
So Jispa put in a lot of emotions herself and a lot of the grammar and pronunciations were taken care of by her teacher. We put in a few corrections and she was off to go. She told me that her elocution date is a few days off, and then on the D day in the morning, I suddenly asked – it’s today isn’t it. AH yes. ok. best of luck. Jasmine went “aren’t you supposed to wear your normal uniform today for the elocution?”. Oops. Today she was wearing her PE uniform as it was PE day. So I ran inside to iron her uniform and we packed it in and left. One quick round and a few guidelines, a few reminders to be loud and clear and …. She was on her own.
19th Jan 2012. Also our 13th marriage anniversary. Jasmine calls in the afternoon and says “your daughter is such an ass.” “Now what?” I enquire. “She came in and looked all sad. She got in the car and turned her face towards the glass and refused to talk. I kept asking her what happened and then she turned and screamed – I WON!”. Yaaaaaa… good one wow... let me talk to her now..
Now I have always maintained. Forget the results, just focus on having a good time and whether the crowd laughed or clapped. The result is the judge’s problem. That’s what I always told her. SO while I was excited how could I show that on the call? I was excited beyond all what I thought I would be. so I said, “ hey, wow, Dam cool, did the crowd enjoy?” I tried recollecting all the questions I asked the last year when she finished second best and asked them again – when did the crowd laugh, which part they found funny, what did the teachers say, did the judges laugh etc etc. She said, that she came first and she beat K (name withheld). K is the one who normally comes in first. She goes for drama class and Jispa looks up to her. Jispa normally resigns to second place knowing that K is better.
It was a tough moment. I was on top of the world. I did not know that winning the elocution meant so much to me as well. Why? Not that I wanted her to win so much. I was perfectly ok missing first place, coming second or third. Finishing strong and pushing the barriers was what I was always keen on. As I said ‘the result is for the judge, not for the participant’.
I came home to hear the story better. Jispa was a little nervous this time it seemed when the results were getting announced. She was a bit jittery, when the third place was announced. Then there was a joint second result with K and I. Here is where she got ‘wobbly knees’ in her words. She was excited and possibly scared. All or nothing situation. And then it was announced that she had WON! She screamed and she felt like crying. She said that her eyes were moist and she was really excited. Those around her, wished her and some it seems hugged her. And when she went to class, the girls all pounced on her like every time. She is a legend in her class. K is one year older to her and hence in a higher class.
I came in and was emotional for the rest of the evening. I don’t know why – I felt ecstatic and I felt like crying as well. I think over time my tears seemed to have been dried up but I definitely felt the twinge in my eyes. I also felt like screaming and I felt like jumping. I did not know it meant so much to me, I had no clue. Why was I feeling so strong about this? I kept looking at jasmine and I thought I would burst any time. Jasmine knows how much I have wanted to act and how much this means to me.
While I was having a shower, jasmine comes in and tells me. “I told jispa, that papa is always proud of you, but this time he is extra proud of you.” Then she said that “Jispa said, that’s because papa likes elocution a lot nah and he taught me a lot of it and I corrected her saying that papa always wanted to do these things but never got to”. I came off the shower and went to put Jispa to sleep. As usual, her legs were hurting from the swimming and I was to oil and massage her legs. Jispa spoke “I know why you are extra proud of me”. Well yes “I am extra proud, because I always wanted to do well in elocution. When I was in school, we were three kids. India wasn’t so rich, so our parents did what they did best, pushed us to study. We had only one chance to do well in life, and that was by being good in studies. So they pushed us for that and did not encourage us for elocution. I wanted to be a part of elocution, or drama or debate, mom would not really encourage. The only time I did something was when I refused to listen to her and took part in dramatics to win the second best actors award in the play ‘the watermelon cure’. We were asked to study. Mom was busy with running a nursery to get some extra cash, then three kids, home work and everything else. so she focused only on study study study. So funnily while I always tell you it not so important to win, suddenly I am all excited and extra proud now that you have won. It a funny feeling”
Three days hence also while writing this blog I am so bloody emotional. When I first saw her on stage in school, I was a bit emotional. Now that she did well in elocution I am emotional. It means much more than what I thought it meant. What the hell. How little we know of ourselves. As parents the dreams we dream for our kids in spite of our best efforts are bloody ours. We keep trying to avoid mistakes our parents made (or seemed to have made), we want for them what we would have wanted for ourselves, we give them the infrastructure we wished for and want them to win what we wanted to. Funny. This all in spite of repeatedly, and intentionally trying to be a parent that says, its your life, your desires, your feelings. Live them the way you want to. Well at least we are aware of this. What about the kids who parents push them hard towards their own dreams. We may not push, but I got so emotional when she achieved what I buried well down inside of me. My God, am I tired, happy and content. I slept thinking I don’t want anything else of her… at least for now :). Till dream again… knowing or unknowingly.
---- ps - how tough it is to be a parent. I was visibly excited in office and one friend said, take something for her today, a gift. I said - how can I? I always tell her its not important to win and I show no great emotion - win or lose - how can I take a gift for WINNING if i dont take for losing? dam parenting. Bloody hell.
http://www.hyd-masti.com/2008/05/vinti.html
Vinti
hey prabhu itni vinay meri sun lijiye,
is baar meri naav ko us paar tho kar deejiye,
my nahi dartha pralay se ya kisis toofan se,
kaampti hai ruh meri par sadha imthihaan se.
taay-taay taay taay roj rat tha hoon prabhu,
raat din panne palatha hoon prabhu,
bhagya mein na jaane kaun sa abhishaab hai,
raat ko ratna subah maidaan milta saaf hai.
akal ko algebra jayegi jad se pacha,
3 mein se 6 gaye tho aur kya baaki bacha,
pee gayi english humari khopadi ke khoon ko
main samaj na paaya is betuke majmoon ko
paas hona chahata tha fail mujhko kar diya,
zindagi bhar main likh na paya chekislovakiya.
naash ho itihaas ka sun ke samundar beh gaye,
mar gaye woh log rone ke liye hum rah gaye,
shah jahan, humayun, akbar sahab tha,
kaun tha beta na jaane kaun kiska baap tha,
bhoo gol mein ek prashn aaya gol hai kaise dhara.
ek hi pal mein humne likh diya uttar se khara,
gol poodi, kachodi, poohe, papad gol hai,
gol ras gulla, jalebi gol laddu gol hai,
jhoom uthe masterji is anokhe gyaan se
likh diya parche par unhone badi shaan se,
teek hai beta humari lekhni bhi gol hai,
gol hai syahi humari, number bhi tumhara gol hai.
kya karo hindi, maana mujhko isme aata nahi,
laakh sir jakhjhortha kuch samaj pata nahi
gadhya ho ya padhya dono kaal hai mere liye,
dono samajho ji ka janjaal hai mere liye
haay hindi ki jagah main aaj hinda likh gaya,
bainsa ko pashu ki jagah main parinda likh gaya,
prabho chod kar saare sahare aagaya hoon dwaar par,
maar ghoonsa laat thaapad kintu baed paar kar,
hai dayamay har tarah se main daya ka paatr hoon,
naam hai deepti mera is desh ki chaatr hoon.
SANDHYA SHANKAR
Jispa has taken part every year in her school elocution competition. She is pretty cool, loud and she loves to modulate her voice and give out emotions while reciting. But she never hit the first place yet. Either second or third. That is good for me. I always wanted her to participate but I was pretty cool, if she won or not. Winning is a combination of a lot of things. The choice of poetry is also important. It must be difficult, allow for a range of emotions, long and stuff like that. So finishing in the top tree ain’t too bad.
Especially as Jispa is home coached in elocution. A lot of them from school go for elocution or speech and drama class. I find the very idea ridiculous. Why would need a class for this. Of course as one grows up and if one wants to this up seriously then it’s important to do it professionally, but for now I think the classes for the kids in the subject is nothing but a sham. And of all people, I can do enough for her now. So far I seem to have been proven right.
Our process – first thing, Jasmine and me sit and search for the right poetry. In the English elocution, I just have to open my collection of Shel Silverstein books and there – a large collection of fun poems that allow for tone to be varied during the recital as well as allow for a crucial twist in the end. For Hindi, the problem is far more severe. Till last year, we had a collection of cheap Hindi books that helped us choose a nice poem. Fun poem. But now we have exhausted the stock. No more long, fun, interesting poems there.
So this year I hit the internet in the hope of searching for a nice poem. But I did not even know where to start – elocution poems for kids? Harivanshrai Bacchan? What should I search for? I tried a few forums, a few blogs, anything; in the hope that I would hit something at least. I had been in the past searching for a poem I heard in my school elocution competition. I remember it being funny and the guy had won the competition. All I could remember of it was – gol hai kaise dhara, gol puri papad, isliya masterji, dhara bhi gol hai, marks bhi gol hai… something something. These were just words in between. They weren’t even coherent lines of the paragraph. All these years I returned a blank.
This time while searching on the net I tried some phrases from the poem again and BINGO! It was bloody there. I found the poem. I went crazy. After all these years. I must have been in the eight grade – that’s about in the year 1989 I must have heard the poem for the first time and then I saw it again. The poem name was Vinti (full poem at the end of the blog). Wow. I read through it. It was the same funny poem. But there was one catch. It seemed too advanced for Jispa. In fact to seemed too advanced for me. I did not understand some words I did not know how to pronounce some other words. Dam. What to do?
I showed Jasmine and decided to send the print to school and let the teacher decide. It got selected and we proceeded to get Jispa to learn it. We went too sure of a lot of meanings and pronunciations so we specifically asked Jispa to get it checked form her school Hindi teacher. And we explained the general meaning of the words, sentences and the poem to Jispa. Jispa is now a pro. She put in her own emotions and all we have to do is to mildly correct it here and there. Jasmine and I are also pretty tired these days. We have our hands full managing Jispa’s hectic schedule. We hardly have any time left for practicing elocution. In the evenings, jispa comes home and eats and gets ready and poof… she is asleep.
So Jispa put in a lot of emotions herself and a lot of the grammar and pronunciations were taken care of by her teacher. We put in a few corrections and she was off to go. She told me that her elocution date is a few days off, and then on the D day in the morning, I suddenly asked – it’s today isn’t it. AH yes. ok. best of luck. Jasmine went “aren’t you supposed to wear your normal uniform today for the elocution?”. Oops. Today she was wearing her PE uniform as it was PE day. So I ran inside to iron her uniform and we packed it in and left. One quick round and a few guidelines, a few reminders to be loud and clear and …. She was on her own.
19th Jan 2012. Also our 13th marriage anniversary. Jasmine calls in the afternoon and says “your daughter is such an ass.” “Now what?” I enquire. “She came in and looked all sad. She got in the car and turned her face towards the glass and refused to talk. I kept asking her what happened and then she turned and screamed – I WON!”. Yaaaaaa… good one wow... let me talk to her now..
Now I have always maintained. Forget the results, just focus on having a good time and whether the crowd laughed or clapped. The result is the judge’s problem. That’s what I always told her. SO while I was excited how could I show that on the call? I was excited beyond all what I thought I would be. so I said, “ hey, wow, Dam cool, did the crowd enjoy?” I tried recollecting all the questions I asked the last year when she finished second best and asked them again – when did the crowd laugh, which part they found funny, what did the teachers say, did the judges laugh etc etc. She said, that she came first and she beat K (name withheld). K is the one who normally comes in first. She goes for drama class and Jispa looks up to her. Jispa normally resigns to second place knowing that K is better.
It was a tough moment. I was on top of the world. I did not know that winning the elocution meant so much to me as well. Why? Not that I wanted her to win so much. I was perfectly ok missing first place, coming second or third. Finishing strong and pushing the barriers was what I was always keen on. As I said ‘the result is for the judge, not for the participant’.
I came home to hear the story better. Jispa was a little nervous this time it seemed when the results were getting announced. She was a bit jittery, when the third place was announced. Then there was a joint second result with K and I. Here is where she got ‘wobbly knees’ in her words. She was excited and possibly scared. All or nothing situation. And then it was announced that she had WON! She screamed and she felt like crying. She said that her eyes were moist and she was really excited. Those around her, wished her and some it seems hugged her. And when she went to class, the girls all pounced on her like every time. She is a legend in her class. K is one year older to her and hence in a higher class.
I came in and was emotional for the rest of the evening. I don’t know why – I felt ecstatic and I felt like crying as well. I think over time my tears seemed to have been dried up but I definitely felt the twinge in my eyes. I also felt like screaming and I felt like jumping. I did not know it meant so much to me, I had no clue. Why was I feeling so strong about this? I kept looking at jasmine and I thought I would burst any time. Jasmine knows how much I have wanted to act and how much this means to me.
While I was having a shower, jasmine comes in and tells me. “I told jispa, that papa is always proud of you, but this time he is extra proud of you.” Then she said that “Jispa said, that’s because papa likes elocution a lot nah and he taught me a lot of it and I corrected her saying that papa always wanted to do these things but never got to”. I came off the shower and went to put Jispa to sleep. As usual, her legs were hurting from the swimming and I was to oil and massage her legs. Jispa spoke “I know why you are extra proud of me”. Well yes “I am extra proud, because I always wanted to do well in elocution. When I was in school, we were three kids. India wasn’t so rich, so our parents did what they did best, pushed us to study. We had only one chance to do well in life, and that was by being good in studies. So they pushed us for that and did not encourage us for elocution. I wanted to be a part of elocution, or drama or debate, mom would not really encourage. The only time I did something was when I refused to listen to her and took part in dramatics to win the second best actors award in the play ‘the watermelon cure’. We were asked to study. Mom was busy with running a nursery to get some extra cash, then three kids, home work and everything else. so she focused only on study study study. So funnily while I always tell you it not so important to win, suddenly I am all excited and extra proud now that you have won. It a funny feeling”
Three days hence also while writing this blog I am so bloody emotional. When I first saw her on stage in school, I was a bit emotional. Now that she did well in elocution I am emotional. It means much more than what I thought it meant. What the hell. How little we know of ourselves. As parents the dreams we dream for our kids in spite of our best efforts are bloody ours. We keep trying to avoid mistakes our parents made (or seemed to have made), we want for them what we would have wanted for ourselves, we give them the infrastructure we wished for and want them to win what we wanted to. Funny. This all in spite of repeatedly, and intentionally trying to be a parent that says, its your life, your desires, your feelings. Live them the way you want to. Well at least we are aware of this. What about the kids who parents push them hard towards their own dreams. We may not push, but I got so emotional when she achieved what I buried well down inside of me. My God, am I tired, happy and content. I slept thinking I don’t want anything else of her… at least for now :). Till dream again… knowing or unknowingly.
---- ps - how tough it is to be a parent. I was visibly excited in office and one friend said, take something for her today, a gift. I said - how can I? I always tell her its not important to win and I show no great emotion - win or lose - how can I take a gift for WINNING if i dont take for losing? dam parenting. Bloody hell.
http://www.hyd-masti.com/2008/05/vinti.html
Vinti
hey prabhu itni vinay meri sun lijiye,
is baar meri naav ko us paar tho kar deejiye,
my nahi dartha pralay se ya kisis toofan se,
kaampti hai ruh meri par sadha imthihaan se.
taay-taay taay taay roj rat tha hoon prabhu,
raat din panne palatha hoon prabhu,
bhagya mein na jaane kaun sa abhishaab hai,
raat ko ratna subah maidaan milta saaf hai.
akal ko algebra jayegi jad se pacha,
3 mein se 6 gaye tho aur kya baaki bacha,
pee gayi english humari khopadi ke khoon ko
main samaj na paaya is betuke majmoon ko
paas hona chahata tha fail mujhko kar diya,
zindagi bhar main likh na paya chekislovakiya.
naash ho itihaas ka sun ke samundar beh gaye,
mar gaye woh log rone ke liye hum rah gaye,
shah jahan, humayun, akbar sahab tha,
kaun tha beta na jaane kaun kiska baap tha,
bhoo gol mein ek prashn aaya gol hai kaise dhara.
ek hi pal mein humne likh diya uttar se khara,
gol poodi, kachodi, poohe, papad gol hai,
gol ras gulla, jalebi gol laddu gol hai,
jhoom uthe masterji is anokhe gyaan se
likh diya parche par unhone badi shaan se,
teek hai beta humari lekhni bhi gol hai,
gol hai syahi humari, number bhi tumhara gol hai.
kya karo hindi, maana mujhko isme aata nahi,
laakh sir jakhjhortha kuch samaj pata nahi
gadhya ho ya padhya dono kaal hai mere liye,
dono samajho ji ka janjaal hai mere liye
haay hindi ki jagah main aaj hinda likh gaya,
bainsa ko pashu ki jagah main parinda likh gaya,
prabho chod kar saare sahare aagaya hoon dwaar par,
maar ghoonsa laat thaapad kintu baed paar kar,
hai dayamay har tarah se main daya ka paatr hoon,
naam hai deepti mera is desh ki chaatr hoon.
SANDHYA SHANKAR
Wednesday, January 18, 2012
no fun robbing what you get on a platter
I have often said that my parenting rule is not to make the mistakes that I thought my parents did. Also at the same time I love remembering the stuff I enjoyed and I try to get the same thing done with Jispa. But I think I might rob her of some fun by being a little over enthusiastic parent.
Look at the picture below. Does it ring a bell? Does it evoke fond memories of raiding fridges and having it when no one was looking?
We often had an open can of milkmaid in the fridge. Milkmaid for uninitiated is sweetened condensed milk. Yummy. It is often used in Indian recipes like kheer or the sorts. So whenever mom made stuff like kheer or halwa we often had a half-finished can lying in the fridge. One of the things we kids loved to do, was raid the fridge. And an open milkmaid can was a really mouthwatering invitation. We dived in and put our finger in it and then ran out licking the finger. Of course we also used a spoon. I don’t think that was for reasons of hygiene. It was plain greed. A spoon carries much more than your finger.
Slowly but surely the half-finished can would become empty and mom would reach out and scream – who ate the milkmaid. Well, it was a pretty useless question. There are three kids in the house. Everyone knows that we all ate it, one spoon at a time. And during vacations it was one spoon at a time, three times a day – just like the doctor ordered :). That’s nine spoons a day. Enough to finish it in 4 to 5 days. But it was so yum. Nobody would own up and mom would simply get exasperated.
The condensed milk was bought just to make the delicacies and not to be consumed raw. It was a treat, not regular meals. But how can you explain that to three kids.
Recently I got Jasmine to buy condensed milk to make fruit salad. I was explaining to her how it’s done. We simply add half a can to a litre of milk and put in as many fruits you can think of. So obviously half a can was left to consume in whichever way we wish. I called Jispa. I was a bit surprised; she did not know what this was. She hadn’t tasted condensed milk yet. I guess it’s a cultural thing. My mom made a lot of stuff using condensed milk but Jasmine doesn’t use it a lot. She simply boils the milk for some time and makes her own. Hence while I loved it while growing up, jispa seems to have so far passed it by.
Not wanting her to miss out on this, I made her taste it. YUMMMY… she went. How can anyone pass up on think sweetened milk? It’s an instant like button. Then I put a spoon in it. See pic above and I told her, it’s in the fridge. You can have it any time. Just be careful not to drop it while eating it. It is quite gooey.
So I gave her the freedom to do something I loved doing, but I unwittingly took a crucial element out of it, which probably made it quite flat. I removed the forbidden from forbidden fruit. So while she will like it, she will never be able to write a blog on how she robbed a few spoons from the fridge. Whoops. I just sanitized her childhood.I even put it in the fridge with a spoon inside. :(
Jispa also doesn’t raid the fridge a lot. She seems content most of the time. Also most of the time, Jasmine is trying to get her to eat. And as she is a swimming kid, we try to get her to eat sweets, chocolates and the works. Why would you raid something that is forced down your throat?
Also another crucial thing is that she doesn’t have siblings. We were three of us. If something went missing, whom can you blame? It’s impossible to get to the root of the crime. Most of the time parents will run in circles trying to apportion blame. Here, Jispa will be the only person found at the scene of the crime. But a lot of times, I try and fill that gap. I irritate her and then she gets angry and complaints to mom and I tell her it’s futile, you will only make Jasmine irritated and you will get equal shit. Yet she complains and I make faces behind Jasmine. This time Jasmine saw me doing it the last time and I got a scolding from her and Jispa was pretty happy. Jasmine keeps saying – she has two kids in the house.
Hmmm. The curse of parenting – no matter what you try, you will always miss something. To not allow milkmaid is being mean, to allow is to remove the fun of raiding it.
Look at the picture below. Does it ring a bell? Does it evoke fond memories of raiding fridges and having it when no one was looking?
We often had an open can of milkmaid in the fridge. Milkmaid for uninitiated is sweetened condensed milk. Yummy. It is often used in Indian recipes like kheer or the sorts. So whenever mom made stuff like kheer or halwa we often had a half-finished can lying in the fridge. One of the things we kids loved to do, was raid the fridge. And an open milkmaid can was a really mouthwatering invitation. We dived in and put our finger in it and then ran out licking the finger. Of course we also used a spoon. I don’t think that was for reasons of hygiene. It was plain greed. A spoon carries much more than your finger.
Slowly but surely the half-finished can would become empty and mom would reach out and scream – who ate the milkmaid. Well, it was a pretty useless question. There are three kids in the house. Everyone knows that we all ate it, one spoon at a time. And during vacations it was one spoon at a time, three times a day – just like the doctor ordered :). That’s nine spoons a day. Enough to finish it in 4 to 5 days. But it was so yum. Nobody would own up and mom would simply get exasperated.
The condensed milk was bought just to make the delicacies and not to be consumed raw. It was a treat, not regular meals. But how can you explain that to three kids.
Recently I got Jasmine to buy condensed milk to make fruit salad. I was explaining to her how it’s done. We simply add half a can to a litre of milk and put in as many fruits you can think of. So obviously half a can was left to consume in whichever way we wish. I called Jispa. I was a bit surprised; she did not know what this was. She hadn’t tasted condensed milk yet. I guess it’s a cultural thing. My mom made a lot of stuff using condensed milk but Jasmine doesn’t use it a lot. She simply boils the milk for some time and makes her own. Hence while I loved it while growing up, jispa seems to have so far passed it by.
Not wanting her to miss out on this, I made her taste it. YUMMMY… she went. How can anyone pass up on think sweetened milk? It’s an instant like button. Then I put a spoon in it. See pic above and I told her, it’s in the fridge. You can have it any time. Just be careful not to drop it while eating it. It is quite gooey.
So I gave her the freedom to do something I loved doing, but I unwittingly took a crucial element out of it, which probably made it quite flat. I removed the forbidden from forbidden fruit. So while she will like it, she will never be able to write a blog on how she robbed a few spoons from the fridge. Whoops. I just sanitized her childhood.I even put it in the fridge with a spoon inside. :(
Jispa also doesn’t raid the fridge a lot. She seems content most of the time. Also most of the time, Jasmine is trying to get her to eat. And as she is a swimming kid, we try to get her to eat sweets, chocolates and the works. Why would you raid something that is forced down your throat?
Also another crucial thing is that she doesn’t have siblings. We were three of us. If something went missing, whom can you blame? It’s impossible to get to the root of the crime. Most of the time parents will run in circles trying to apportion blame. Here, Jispa will be the only person found at the scene of the crime. But a lot of times, I try and fill that gap. I irritate her and then she gets angry and complaints to mom and I tell her it’s futile, you will only make Jasmine irritated and you will get equal shit. Yet she complains and I make faces behind Jasmine. This time Jasmine saw me doing it the last time and I got a scolding from her and Jispa was pretty happy. Jasmine keeps saying – she has two kids in the house.
Hmmm. The curse of parenting – no matter what you try, you will always miss something. To not allow milkmaid is being mean, to allow is to remove the fun of raiding it.
Thursday, January 12, 2012
new things
Hey, Christmas passed us by without Santa visiting. He broke a tradition lasting more than five years I think. Oops. Are nine years old off Santa’s visiting list? This time Jispa was spending the Christmas at her Nani’s house. Jasmine and I all forgot about it till in the evening. We then called Jispa to ask her about it. Oh its ok she said. I don’t want anything this time around.
Normally Jispa’s always a content kid. She doesn’t ask for too much. She is ok with what she has. So Christmas is no great occasion. From when I can remember, she was always happy to ask for some small gift, that too on being repeatedly asked. So I don’t really understand the stress stories about parents rushing to buy the Christmas toy. It’s so Hollywood! Possibly we still have some time before crass commercialization pervades our lives. I guess I am happy that Jispa was born at a slightly better time. I see it getting more and more commercial as the toy shops keep opening in the city. Five years back we hardly had shops dedicated to toys. I remember once going to a shop called big tom or something in Colaba. It was the only half decent Toy shop at the time along with another one called ‘souvenirs’. There is one tucked away in breach candy behind Premsons as well. But none of them were anywhere near the experience that Hamleys, which opened in Phoenix, provides.
So I asked Jispa – “do you really believe in Santa?”. “I don’t know” she replied. “serious, tell me”. “I think I believe around 70%”. What the hell. Ya sure. The kid is kidding with me. She is playing me. I am sure she knows there is no such thing and she knows that its dad and mom writing and gifting, but she seems to be enjoying the ride. I guess here I am at fault. Because I think that it was me who told her – it doesn’t matter whether you believe in it or not. You got your gift and that’s something real. Right? Hehehe. Parenting is a circle. You get back exactly what you give.
So this Year, jispa was not surprised and excited on Christmas eve. I remember her five years ago getting all excited about Christmas and super excited that Santa had come in the night while she was asleep. That video is my favorite video. You know we take a lot of photographs and videos. We see the photos immediately after the trip or occasion, but the videos are the real hero. The value of the video dramatically increases after a period of time. You want to sit and watch old videos. Somehow the photos just get lost. Possibly because there are too many of them. There are atleast two for every moment.
When we were kids dad had photography as a hobby. He bought an SLR – was it Nikon or Cannon?. He bought a set that included a camera, standard lens, a wide angle lens and a tele lens for shooting long distance. Then he went and got a slide projector. So he shot most of his photos with a slide reel which was different from the normal reel you put inside the camera. If anyone reads this post after 15 years – yes – upto ten years back we put reels in cameras. They could typically take upto 36 photos and then we would send it to the photo lab for processing and printing. So dad would have these slides that we would project on the wall using a projector. The projector was a really wild thing. No one I knew had one in India. (remember – we were a deprived country). So photo sessions were family time when the whole family huddled around the hall, pulled the curtains and watched the slides of vacations and events. It was a fun thing. We would even subject guests to this torture. We assumed they loved it. In India, I think they were just too dazed with all this technology to say anything. Set up the projector on the stool and start. The fight amongst siblings was to control the remote for the projector that sent the slides forward or backward. Just for the record the remote was not cordless. That was fun.
I enjoyed it so much that a lot of my photos till around the time Jispa was born were on slides. Our trip to Leh as well. I think I bought my first digital camera in 2004. Mom never actually let me use Dad’s camera too much. It was expensive equipment and we must use it with care. It soon rusted away with no real use. The wheel of progress is brutal. It is important to discard to get something new. Throw out the old to make space for something new.
The pace of this change seems too fast, it seems to have quickened. I think it’s just that we were not used to it. A protected environment holds on to the old. I guess it realizes that new will not come in a hurry. But if you break these shackles and constantly update yourself with something new, you will find yourself forced to throw out the old. Sure there is warm comfort in the known, but progress lies with the unknown. Not that it is good or bad. It’s not a value judgment, but merely an observation. Whne in doubt – go for the new.
Normally Jispa’s always a content kid. She doesn’t ask for too much. She is ok with what she has. So Christmas is no great occasion. From when I can remember, she was always happy to ask for some small gift, that too on being repeatedly asked. So I don’t really understand the stress stories about parents rushing to buy the Christmas toy. It’s so Hollywood! Possibly we still have some time before crass commercialization pervades our lives. I guess I am happy that Jispa was born at a slightly better time. I see it getting more and more commercial as the toy shops keep opening in the city. Five years back we hardly had shops dedicated to toys. I remember once going to a shop called big tom or something in Colaba. It was the only half decent Toy shop at the time along with another one called ‘souvenirs’. There is one tucked away in breach candy behind Premsons as well. But none of them were anywhere near the experience that Hamleys, which opened in Phoenix, provides.
So I asked Jispa – “do you really believe in Santa?”. “I don’t know” she replied. “serious, tell me”. “I think I believe around 70%”. What the hell. Ya sure. The kid is kidding with me. She is playing me. I am sure she knows there is no such thing and she knows that its dad and mom writing and gifting, but she seems to be enjoying the ride. I guess here I am at fault. Because I think that it was me who told her – it doesn’t matter whether you believe in it or not. You got your gift and that’s something real. Right? Hehehe. Parenting is a circle. You get back exactly what you give.
So this Year, jispa was not surprised and excited on Christmas eve. I remember her five years ago getting all excited about Christmas and super excited that Santa had come in the night while she was asleep. That video is my favorite video. You know we take a lot of photographs and videos. We see the photos immediately after the trip or occasion, but the videos are the real hero. The value of the video dramatically increases after a period of time. You want to sit and watch old videos. Somehow the photos just get lost. Possibly because there are too many of them. There are atleast two for every moment.
When we were kids dad had photography as a hobby. He bought an SLR – was it Nikon or Cannon?. He bought a set that included a camera, standard lens, a wide angle lens and a tele lens for shooting long distance. Then he went and got a slide projector. So he shot most of his photos with a slide reel which was different from the normal reel you put inside the camera. If anyone reads this post after 15 years – yes – upto ten years back we put reels in cameras. They could typically take upto 36 photos and then we would send it to the photo lab for processing and printing. So dad would have these slides that we would project on the wall using a projector. The projector was a really wild thing. No one I knew had one in India. (remember – we were a deprived country). So photo sessions were family time when the whole family huddled around the hall, pulled the curtains and watched the slides of vacations and events. It was a fun thing. We would even subject guests to this torture. We assumed they loved it. In India, I think they were just too dazed with all this technology to say anything. Set up the projector on the stool and start. The fight amongst siblings was to control the remote for the projector that sent the slides forward or backward. Just for the record the remote was not cordless. That was fun.
I enjoyed it so much that a lot of my photos till around the time Jispa was born were on slides. Our trip to Leh as well. I think I bought my first digital camera in 2004. Mom never actually let me use Dad’s camera too much. It was expensive equipment and we must use it with care. It soon rusted away with no real use. The wheel of progress is brutal. It is important to discard to get something new. Throw out the old to make space for something new.
The pace of this change seems too fast, it seems to have quickened. I think it’s just that we were not used to it. A protected environment holds on to the old. I guess it realizes that new will not come in a hurry. But if you break these shackles and constantly update yourself with something new, you will find yourself forced to throw out the old. Sure there is warm comfort in the known, but progress lies with the unknown. Not that it is good or bad. It’s not a value judgment, but merely an observation. Whne in doubt – go for the new.
Monday, January 02, 2012
What parent are you?
The big girl doesn’t like skinny fit jeans. She doesn’t like them period. But didn’t we ask you before we bought them? Did you not try them out? Yes I did. Yes I said yes, but I don’t like them anymore. Arrggghhhh! Now you tell me what should we as parents do?
Should we just be sweet parents and say – Oh its ok sweet heart? That’s all right. You can just buy stuff and then decide not to wear them, because you don’t like them. Its ok to change your mind. Or should we tell her, no you bought them you will wear them. You better not throw them. Or should we say – hey. That’s not done but its ok… this time is ok but the next time, you are in for trouble if you do that. Or I am not going to buy you anything else. or if you throw them then the next pair of denims are going to come from your pocket money. A ha… the last one also promotes that its ok to throw as long as you can afford to do so. Money comes and money goes, its ok.
And hold on – it’s not that this is happening for the first time. We have bought stuff before after she has tried them and then decided that she doesn’t like them. She gets stuck on certain things. If there is a phase of denims then it’s that, shorts – then it’s that – one particular t shirt – then that’s that. The problem is giving too much of choice to your young one. Well it’s not that it is a problem. We are teaching them to think. To choose and then to be responsible for their decisions.
With movies – Jispa seems to have a definite choice when it comes to movies. There are movies she wants to see and those she doesn’t want to. It might be this and I might not like it and blah blah. She tends to stay within the baby animations which are always a safe bet. While we were renting movies, I had to put my foot down and get her to rent movies like Flubber, Jumanji and honey I shrunk the kids. I am taking them as I am not watching any more kiddie animations. Sure I like animations but there is a limit to it. I can’t watch animations all the time, especially if I have seen them multiple times. I even had to put my foot down and take complete silly movies like Daddy day care, just to change her genre of movies. See other movies dude. Just recently she did not want to see Tintin. Dam you man. It’s a nice movie. I did not insist too much as I hate watching 3D movies and funnily I haven’t come across any one in my circle who actually enjoys watching them. But that is another story. So I kept quiet till I saw that there was a show in Regal in 2D. Ok that’s not so bad is it? So I put my foot down again and we ended up seeing it. All these movies Jispa has come out happy. She liked them all.
I then rib her – you did not want to see it nah? Yesterday I sat her down and had a chat – dude – you have to see other stuff in life. You have to experiment. Just because you might not like it doesn’t mean that you don’t see it. Come on man. Why would you not take the risk? What do you have to lose?
Helicopter parents – from Wikipedia
“Helicopter parent is a colloquial, early 21st-century term for a parent who pays extremely close attention to his or her child's or children's experiences and problems, particularly at educational institutions. The term was originally coined by Foster W. Cline, M.D. and Jim Fay in their 1990 book Parenting with Love and Logic: Teaching Children Responsibility, although Dr. Haim Ginott mentions a teen who complains, "Mother hovers over me like a helicopter..." on page 18 of the bestselling book Between Parent & Teenager published in 1969. Helicopter parents are so named because, like helicopters, they hover closely overhead, rarely out of reach, whether their children need them or not. In Scandinavia, this phenomenon is known as curling parenthood and describes parents who attempt to sweep all obstacles out of the paths of their children. It is also called "overparenting". Parents try to resolve their child's problems, and try to stop them coming to harm by keeping them out of dangerous situations.
Some college professors and administrators are now referring to "Lawnmower parents" to describe mothers and fathers who attempt to smooth out and mow down all obstacles, to the extent that they may even attempt to interfere at their children's workplaces, regarding salaries and promotions, after they have graduated from college and are supposedly living on their own. As the children of "helicopter parents" graduate and move into the job market, personnel and human resources departments are becoming acquainted with the phenomenon as well. Some have reported that parents have even begun intruding on salary negotiations.”
Dam hell… there is a thin line between helicopter parents and involved parents. We can have more than one child as we want to be involved with the child. We face bumps and trials as kids and we struggled to ensure that our kids have easier lives, but not that easy. What is ‘that’ easy? How easy is easy. How tough is tough. How big is a big bump? What should be allowed and what should be disallowed? These are difficult questions as there is no mathematical formula. Or even a magical one.
To take the case of the lawnmower parent – what’s the opposite of that one? Speed Breaker parent? When we see that it’s possible to just chuck the jeans out of the window and say – forget it kid. It’s only a denim and it’s ok. That’s being a lawnmower, but then to say no – shut up and wear it, that’s being a speed breaker parent. The road is smooth but you are throwing up speed breakers to break the speed. But then to know about it and to try and do something about it –this way or that – that’s being a helicopter parent. What the hell. You just can’t win. So you are trying to balance the act this way or the other. I don’t want to be a helicopter, a speed breaker or a lawn mower. I want to be DAD! Plain and simple DAD. I want her to grow up but not get too hurt. I want her to be independent but yet be able to connect. I want to play with her yet let her go to her friends place to play. I want her to experience different things, new flavors, and new ideas, break out… yet be happy being by herself within the warmth of familiarity. Oh God…How difficult can that be?
As we grow up together – I am molding her and she is molding me / us. That’s parenting. So I guess that’s Clay Parenting. Soft enough and hard enough. Just right for molding. Not fall in a heap and not hard enough to use a chisel. And not play dough that you can keep playing with. Everything we do will slowing have lasting impressions. Like a potter’s wheel, it’s constantly on. Constantly shaping. Only thing is that in the cliché one expects the child to be the clay as the potter is molding but here, we all are clay and we all are potters.
Aila – too much philosophy for now. Now can I borrow an action movie please?
Foot notes: -
a quiz to help you figure if you are a helicopter parent (here)
A small comic :)
TIME -The growing backlash against over parenting (here) -
CNN – How to ground a helicopter parent (here)
FOOT FOOT NOTE –
Jispa told us only a few days back but this happened some time back in class. Her teacher asked a question to the class ‘why are flamingoes pink’. One kid answered because they eat pink fish. Teacher said – very good. Good answer. Jispa raised her arm and said, no miss. It is because of the algae they eat. NO that’s wrong. Oh God. Flamingoes don’t eat fish. They eat algae and shrimp. And they get the pink color from the algae and shrimp. It seems they have something like carotenoids that given the flamingos the color. Now what do you want us parents to do? So I checked Google and told Jispa that she was right and her teacher was wrong, to which Jispa said, the chapter on birds is over. I said ok and next time if she says something that the teacher doesn’t know, come back and we will check it up. Then you can go to school with the right answer and a print out if you wish. Or forget it. At least now she knows that her teachers aren’t the final authority in this world. Google can change a lot.
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