Freedom

We spend the first year of a child's life teaching him or her to walk and talk "and the rest of their lives telling them to shut up and sit down."

I read this somewhere and its really true and so truer than now with respect to Jispa. Jispa is suddenly becoming a big girl. She understands stuff, is able to argue back and is broadly able to resist. So whats wrong. Nothing – just as parents now we have to be all ready to handle a different child than the one we were handling six months ago. The nature of adolescence is now panning out. Neither she nor we know if she is an adult or a child. Should we treat her as if she knows nothing or should we treat her as if she knows everything. We have to get after her to do her stuff and she says she knows what to do. Jasmine is letting her peel and cut cucumbers and I baulk at the approval. That’s not done. I don’t think she is ready yet but then many girls younger to her do this and much more.

She fights and fights aggressively for freedom and responsibility and on giving she promptly screws it all up. She would  then proceed to just not do what is expected of her. Its not that she doesn’t understand. She does but just something happens and …. And it just creates more confusion in our minds. Is she old or is she young. Every phase gets tougher and tougher. Now that she is in the fifth grade the pressure of homework and studies have cranked up dramatically. There is a lot more to study and with her swimming schedule the time that she has is dramatically less. Time seems to have been condensed these days. So much so that we are now constantly on her case. Jasmine gets completely done in by the stress and then it gets to me. I try and understand and allow but then Jispa will simply mess things up and make me wonder whats going on. I allow her leeway in the morning to relax and not rush – the consequence is that when we are to leave she will not be ready and there is a mad rush for the bags. I allow her some time to read  a magazine at night – the consequence is that she remembers in the morning about the home work to be done and there is a mad rush with unfinished home work. We let her see a movie and project will remain unfinished or she will be ill prepared for her reviews.

Oh dam me. I always maintained that I will not put pressure on her to study. She is free to enjoy her life and do as she pleases. Studies will not be the main focus of her life like what my parents did. Studies they knew was the only way out of a life of struggle. They were right in their era. Time shave changed. I maintained always but then it lasted only till I became a parent of a 10 year old. So now I have changed to from studies is not it to only studies is not it. You need studies and something else. Or you have your something else and you have studies as well. Earlier when Jispa was born I was a complete ass. I even thought that great it’s a girl, at least the pressure on her to grow up and study and become an engineer is not there. But dam… that’s not the thing. We know she is smart and we know that she can do well. She has a great brain that is able to memorise as well as reason. So what’s my job as a dad? Is it to give her a great and happy childhood that she will remember for life (and not blame me like how I sometimes blame my parents) or teach her to study, make her study for now and then hopefully she takes a call later on what she wants to do in life.

I really don’t want to pressurize her. Yesterday as well I had to take the school magazine from her and get her to study and finish her homework. She obviously did not like it. It showed on her face. Later on I asked her about it and then I spoke to her. I told her I was sorry. She had to finish her stuff, I hate being a  mean dad much more than you hate having one. But I am sorry. She understood. At the end as was sleeping I told her “I am sorry and I promise you that it WILL happen again”. We laughed. It’s a tough one. And it’s not as simple as ‘let Jasmine do the irritating discipline thing and I will do the fun thing’. That’s not on as well. That’s unfair to one parent. So we both have to be mean and sweet. The thing is to alternate. But it’s getting freaking tough on both of us. We are constantly being pulled in by our true nature, our role as parents and our desires to see our child do well.

So what’s the answer to all this? its difficult. The way I see it right now and the way I explained to Jispa is simple. I have no option but ensure that you have a great base. She is around 11 right now. I have another 5-6 years at best to hound her and get her to study. If this base is well constructed then she can build it from there on.in fact she can then even decide to chuck it all and do something else altogether. But to have the freedom to choose you need to be able enough to get the choice in the first place. If you want to reject an admission in a college you need to get the admission to start with. That leave sus with very little room to play with. And that little room is gobbled up with her swimming. If she swims so many hours a day, she is eating into all her time for everything else. Plus we have to ensure she plays a bit and movies and relax and read… wow. I keep explaining to her that if she was a simple fun kid then she would have had time for a lot of simple cute fun. But is choosing to be a champion. Representing Mumbai is no mean feat, there are choices to be made and scarifies to be done. It is up to the athlete to choose. But she will need to.

On this a bit of philosophy that I read might help. It’s quite an interesting story. I have read this story as a kid, but I never did figure that this is an interesting and deeply philosophical construct. Read on. How limiting Jispa’s choices now we are actually giving her the freedom to choose! Sorry Jips, I think you are not going to find this one inspiring. Atleast for now.

http://bigthink.com/experts-corner/odysseus-nudged

Odysseus Nudged: How Limiting Our Choices Can Give Us More Freedom

by DAVE NUSSBAUM

According to legend, the Sirens were beautiful women whose voices were so alluring that when sailors heard their song they could not resist approaching and were drowned on the rocky shores of the island where the Sirens sang. No sailor had heard their song and lived until Odysseus, who, on the counsel of the goddess Circe, had his crew tie him to the mast of his ship. When he heard the Sirens’ song he begged to be released, but his crew, their ears plugged with beeswax, would not unbind him and saved him from his own desires. Odysseus was lucky – he knew that he would be unable to resist the Sirens and had himself bound – but people often have difficulty foreseeing their weakness from a distance. Sometimes they need help.

I love watching my not-quite-two-year-old son learn about the world from his mistakes. I look on with sympathy at his falls and bumps and spills and I try to restrain myself from interceding. But when he’s about to tumble down a flight of stairs I step in. It is difficult to balance preserving his freedom to explore and make his own mistakes with the desire to keep him safe. There’s a lot to be said for giving kids autonomy and letting them learn from experience, but sometimes you have to behave paternalistically and tie them to the mast (or at least install safety gates).

When you start treating grown men and women like you’re their father, though, the charge of paternalism becomes a more serious one. There may be cases in which a heavy-handed approach is necessary (particularly when people’s actions harm others), but we should be careful about using it. A more circumspect approach is libertarian paternalism, described by Richard Thaler and Cass Sunstein in Nudge (and re-articulated more recently by Sunstein in his Simpler) as a way of influencing people to make decisions that they themselves would consider beneficial, without restricting their freedom.

Here, we are not tying Odysseus to the mast – the more appropriate analogy would be to the beeswax that Odysseus had his sailors put in their ears. The wax prevented the sailors from hearing the Sirens’ song and saved them from being lured to their deaths, but it also left them free to remove the wax if that is what they wanted to do. This sort of intervention is an acknowledgment that the sailors’ freedom is important, but also that people are not always perfectly rational. As Carnegie Mellon economist (and psychologist) George Loewenstein recently explained to me, “When people have problems exercising self-control, restricting their choices can, in some cases, leave them more freedom to choose.”

On its face, Loewenstein’s claim may seem paradoxical – isn’t a person most free when presented with all her options and allowed to choose among them? But as the mythical Sirens make clear, there are some options that we are not truly free to resist. Without beeswax in their ears Odysseus’ crew would have been doomed; the wax gave them the freedom to choose.

memories

I remember green carpet, my dad in his kurta pyjama, in our hall in Dubai and dad fiddling with his new beautiful Sony cassette player system. It is an amazing memory. Its morning and dad puts on this cassette of Mr Natwarlal and I am listening to Amitabh doing a fantastic job of singing mere Paas aao mere doston ek kissa sunoh. Wow those memories are something else. I must have been no greater than 6 or 7 years old. (the movie released when I was around 4). But I remember it andwhen ever the song runs I am immediately transported back. Here is the song

The song is forever etched in memory and frequent references to it come when someone askes or mentions about life and says something to the effect of ‘aap toh ache ji rahe ho’ and I retort “yeh jeena bhi koi jeena hai, lallu?”. Only those who are around as old as me would understand the reference to the dialogue. Yesterday I cracked that dialogue with my office gang to a very cold response and then like an old man I went onto youtube and explained the context of the dialogue to the very young team.

Some memories can never be explained to others. They are yours and yours alone. The significance of hugging someone older in a  kurta pyjama is something that is mine alone. Now I don’t need to put Jispa to sleep. She sleeps on her own but everyday after a bath and wearing my nightsuit (kurta pyjama) I go to Jispa’s bed and hug her tightly and kiss her good night. And she goes ‘yay yay… papa smell smell’. According to her there is a distinct Papa smell which she loves and takes in. in the morning also she will hug and say ‘papa smell papa smell’. I guess this is her memory that she will take with her wherever.

These memories are so emotional. Smells, touch, feel.. they all have their own connects. Most Mumbai residents will have a distinct memory of the smell of monsoon. Of course their associations could be good or nasty. It varies from experiences and people.

Like there is this other song from the same movie. I love this song as well. Obviously I would have heard it from the same cassette. It’s a nice song with folksy feel to it. I must have heard it at the same time as the earlier song but the emotion is somehow missing. (don’t miss those boots. I remember them distinctly. Ya this visual memory is stronger)

I guess what must have happened is that dad would have looked at me or called me or I must have laughed with him when the earlier song was played and this one was just played – without special intentions or eye contacts or something. So while I love both the songs, the mere paas aao, has a special ring to it. In fact watching the video leaves me cold. I love listening to the song. Amitabh’s baritone reverberating through the room. I love to listen to it but not watch it at all. There is nothing in the video and everything in the audio. Memories are a funny thing.

And while we are at it, here is one song that could have a similar effect on Jispa 30 years hence. Again we have Amitabh and his signature baritone. His voice has definitely aged but the distinct quality remains unchanged. Here is a song I love and I listen to it many times in the car, on speakers. Jispa has not even seen the movie and hence may not even know of the video but she would recognize the song and I tried explaining to her to the best of my ability the meaning of the song. And we have played it upteen number of times. So here listen on Jispa and tell me when you come back to it in the year 2043 if it rings a bell! What is it that you feel? What do you remember – iTen, car, papa, papa smell, drive, vacation… what is it triggering. A penny for your thoughts

I find this Ekla chalo re rendition inspiring and it does help me when in office I am going to (or feel like I am going to.. ) kick some ones butt.

monsoon blues

The monsoon are truly well upon us. This time around they came with a  bang and have stayed since. We have had heavy rains. Ever since the big floods that created havoc around seven years ago, the psyche of the average Mumbai dweller seems to have been scarred. That day the city came to a standstill, a few died and a large majority walked home or stayed at friends place or stuck inside their cars. We were very  lucky on that day. A couple of days before we left for Goa in my car. Jasmine, Jispa and me , on our very first road trip. We stayed at Ganapatiphule on the first night and we saw the fury of the monsoon on the second day onward to Goa. That monsoon travelled from south to Mumbai causing havoc. On the way we too faced quite a bit of the action. The Goa highway was submerged in many places. To our luck we kept asking around, referring maps and always took an alternate route from inside. We reached till the edge of Goa. At Malvan we seemed well and truly stuck. I remember getting off and asking for directions at a shop when a slightly drunk kind of guy was behind me and overheard us. He first tried to help which I ignored. Then he kept insisting and explaining the route. The others did not know of it. He explained and the others agreed. There was one way from inside. It went through the fields and farms and some nondescript villages. We took it and some how reached Goa!. We phoned home to know of the horrors that Mumbai faced. It was a Black swan event. Unprecedented heavy rains coupled with a very high tide threw the Mumbai storm water drainage system into a mess. Water rushed in from the sea instead of the other way round and Mumbai was horribly flooded.

I guess that was really bad and I was happy to escape it along with my car. Many cars suffered. But then something changed about the Mumbai spirit. Earlier no matter what Mumbaiites would turn up for work. Knee deep water – of course. Trains stuck – sure. Traffic – that’s ok. Somehow people managed to get to work. Without complain or major delay. You just showed up. I used to stay at kings circle which was a low lying area. I would simply wear my sandals fold my pants up and get to work. Simple. I don’t know what stopped anyone. While going home people would struggle but somehow reach. No complains no issues. But now I wonder. They seem to be giving to much importance to the news. It’s flooding everywhere, things are very bad, and traffic is a killer. I guess things are bad many times, but not as bad as the media hypes them. People are permanently scarred and that’s a big issue. The TV channels keeps reminding them again and again. The whole world then tries to leave early and the result is a bad jam at 5-6 pm. And that keeps the vicious circle running.

I am sure on some days it’s bad and today is another impending calamity. We have forecast of heavy rain with high tide, which is a bit of a problem. I hope it all ends well but for now I already got calls about the knee length water around the homes and why people can’t come to work.

Knee length water. When we first came in from Dubai as kids we loved so much water. It was crazy. From a childhood spent so far in a desert to the Monsoon rains. King circle would invariably get flooded and when the neighborhood boys came to call us – come come, lets go and see the floods, I was superbly excited. Mom allowed as some good big boys were also around. So we went to see the floods which were till my thighs or waist. The water was dirty for sure and I wouldn’t want to dip my tiny toe in it now, but at the time – it was big fun. When a truck would push its way through the flood it would send a wave of water all around which made the flood resemble a sea. Oh that was awesome fun. Would I now take Jispa to the floods. I don’t think so. I don’t know but I find the water dirty mucky and … unhygienic. Poor thing will grow up without playing the floods. Then she too will grow up and refuse to turn up for work – stating knee length water. Hah!

One time I was horribly stuck. We were at a friend’s house in breach candy. This was before marriage. We took a bus and somehow reached Jasmine’s home. I then dropped her off and set off for my home. I had to walk a lot, I climbed onto a truck laoded with metal scrap (along with hitch hikers) waded through water and reached kings circle – where the dark ocean awaited me. There were two lines a la the partition, going through the water. One  or two good Samaritans were standing where the drains were and pushing people away from there. Mumbai has this drains which the municipality open the covers off for the water to flow off faster. That is what you need to avoid and be careful off while walking around the floods. At one juncture, I had to turn into a small lane. There were no lights and a truck which was stuck and the tyres submerged. I had no option. I knew that there was a drain there somewhere. I turned in and continued. The water was at first till the thighs, then the waist and then slowly slowy it rose beyond. I held my wallet in hy hand and keeping my hands in the air I walked. The water was almost till my chest. It was dark and I was alone in that crossing. I tried to avoid the corners where the drains could be open. I walked through and slowly I reached higher ground. Wow that was a little scary experience. And I lived through to tell you about it :).

That’s my deal and that’s why I wonder at all the fuss. Knee length water in broad daylight, if that is scary you don’t know what scary is.

But that’s all right. I guess I have missed the really big flood so I also don’t know what real scary is. But I do know what funny is. See this. Guy on bike on the highway with a guy behind him trying to hold an umbrella. Wonder what he is trying to do? There is no way you aren't getting wet.

so whats the point of a vacation, anyways?

So whats the prime focus of a vacation. Getting away from it all. Yes and no. getting away from it all is important. You cant really face the stress of everyday living on a vacation. You like to go away, forget the daily grind and enjoy life a bit. So getting away is important. But another one is trying to bond and spend time with family. That’s an important one for Jasmine and me. For us vacation is family time. Spending time with each other and spending time with Jispa. Full on family time. We like to do things together and hence we end up searching for stuff that allows everybody to be together. Of course that means that we elders can get really really bored trying to do things that the kid enjoys because you can’t really expect eth kid to understand stuff that parents enjoy. So invariably it becomes a kid centered vacation. I understand why my mom once told that she is now completely bored of seeing zoos. Everywhere we went she and daddy would just take us to the zoo. Yup.  It does get boring after a while. Where all have we visited zoos. From the more interesting ones at Singapore and Mysore to the more tiring one at Junagadh. We have been everywhere. Go to a city and check – zoo? Yup we are coming. One full hot day gone. Man it’s a good thing that Jispa is growing up. I am nearly totally done with zoos.

This time around in London as well. I was completely tired of them. I was going through the motions. Trying my best to enjoy the dam zoo, but it just wasn’t fun enough. Also the fact is that Singapore zoo is far better than the London zoo and once you have done that London doesn’t come close. It does seem to me that Singapore copied the London zoo model and taken it to another level altogether. It’s great and I was awestruck by it. So I honestly hope and pray that is my last zoo experience to come for a long time.

But the point I am trying to make is slightly different. Jasmine and I often discuss this. There are many of our friends who leave their kids and go on vacations. The kids stay with the grandparents while the couple takes off. That’s also a cool vacation but we just don’t understand it. I would want to spend every time I get off with Jispa and Jasmine together. Of course the dumb ass zoos come with the package but there are so many other benefits as well. There is so much to talk to them, listen to them, have conversations and have fun. Jispa is integral to the whole thing. I guess will grow older without the chance to do many fun young stuff that young adults can do. But it would have still been fun. I probably started working early, got married, became a father before I got the money to do what I could have done as a young adult, but hey, the joy of growing up with Jispa was unparalleled. So Jasmine and I just can’t understand the others who go out for vacations without kids. But then eacht o their own. Who am I to pass judgement.

The other thing about vacations is – luxury. Of course as income goes up the kind of money one spends also goes up. We don’t travel by second non AC sleeper trains anymore. That is too much. The loos and the crowd and the dirt are probably too much to handle. And if the trains aren’t convenient a flight booking is in order. But I think I want to draw the line as far as a complete luxury holiday is concerned. I FOR NOW… don’t want a holiday in which the family goes to a resort of sorts and stay at ease for a week, eating , drinking and relaxing. I don’t have anything against the five stars. I think they are pretty cool and nice to be pampered, but I am not too sure on the pampering thing for us. There is so much learning to be had just by staying in slightly less sterile environments. You stay close to the city, you meet and talk to more people, you take the train and public transport, you walk around… the works. That’s the fun bit. When we stayed in London we stayed at a friends place. She opened the doors of her home and heart to us. That was the only reason we could afford a London vacation for as many days. It’s impossible otherwise. But in hindsight, that was the smartest move we made. I think vacations are as much about learning as much about relaxing. You go around, you meet, you see, you explore and you learn. You learn about people, cultures, nature, and life. Everything about things you weren’t exposed to. In London, staying at a friend’s place gave us a sneak peek into the life of an everyday Londoner. What’s the commute what’s the life and what normal people do. Taking the train and the bus to reach home gave Jispa a real feel of London and its people. That is important. She all sorts of people in the tube, she saw all the different types of stations, she changed trains and understood how efficient and organized it is. That’s the learning bit and who said learning can’t be fun. Staying with our friend in the end is what made the trip extra memorable and FUN.

I admit I was being a  bit judgmental or a bit of an ass when a friend was asking me about my vacation and I replies “well, we have a choice either to go on a one week luxury vacation and come back dumber or go on a different vacation and come back smarter”. I am not saying that every vacation has to be a boot camp but hell, going out and feeling the city is a great thing to do. Leaning may be as important as anything else in a vacation. It doesn’t cost too much to open your eyes. In fact in hindsight I’d say it’s far better a call then a five star. Money can make people do many things. Losing touch with reality is probably one of them. But hell, when you are rich – do you really care about reality? You can afford not :)

What a great dad am I?

Good intentions. They are good but they are not just good enough. And I mean real good intentions. These are intentions that are followed by good action that gains the praise of the world and all round you. People go back happy and love what you do, but they are just not good enough.

Just the other day I was asking Jispa that her birthday is coming up and we can celebrate with a pool party like last time. Like last time I will organize and conduct all the games and we can have a blast. So you want to have one? No was her reply. What? You don’t want to have a pool party. NO. She did not want to have a party this year. I couldn’t just understand it. Why is it that she did not want to have a party? We let it be at the tie but the matter kept ringing in my head. I thought it was a great party. The kids enjoyed, Jispa enjoyed and everyone had a great time. Wasn’t it a fun day to spend at the pool? Evidently it wasn’t so much fun. Jispa refusal did not seem right to me. There was something more to it than I understood. Yesterday in the evening I asked her – “you really don’t want a party this year?”. ‘No”. “why”. “because you don’t listen to me. Last time when the other girl kicked me in the pool you just ignored it.”. “No sweet heart. I can’t favor you or even take your side. You are the host and you have to always let go of it. You must listen.” “No you listen” she said. “Listen. I don’t want you to give me the point but I want you to listen to me. She kicked me and the coins dropped and she took the coins. I was hurt. You must tell her that. That is not fair.”. “And what did I tell you when you told me that?”. “You just told me to shut up and go”. Whoops. “did I really tell you that?”. “yes” she said softly, “you did”. I was stunned. It was obviously me fault. I tried to be a great dad to her. I organized the party, I got into the pool. I made the kids play and everything. I had a lot of fun. In a party when I playing judge I have to be extra fair. The benefit of the doubt must go against my daughter and her team. Always. So I tend to ignore her. Or possibly I am too caught up with my organizing to really become a dad. In my effort to become a Great dad, I ceased to become Her dad. I looked down at her and said “I am sorry. I really am.” I gave a tight hug and she hugged me back. Yup. “its ok”.

I say her down and spoke to her. I explained my point of view. I said I was sorry. I did not mean to do that but I was too focused on the party. She said she understood that I needed to be fair. That I needed to not let her win. She knew it did not matter but all she wanted was me to listen to her. She was right. But the issue was different in my mind. Not that I was a jerk. That I was. But the bigger one was that – why did she not tell me about it. She remembers an incident so well from a year back. And she was obviously hurt by it that she refused to have a part thanks to it. It was a big issue. Why did she not tell me about it? Why did she not talk to me about it? I asked her and I told her that she can always talk to me. Don’t I listen to her so many times? I talk to her whenever I am angry and ya, we fight but we also make up and talk. She said she was afraid that I would just not listen. That really really hurt. Here is one more person telling me that they can’t argue with me. Now this is too much to handle man. I don’t want to win these arguments. I explained to Jispa that I always say sorry immediately, nah? Yes you do dad, but I don’t know. In the end she reassured me that she will speak to me. I urged her that I may be an ass and I may not talk properly but there is also a chance that I may talk nicely. If I hadn’t raised the issue then we would not have had a chance to talk openly and we would not have had a party, she would have suffered in the end. Talk. I always teach you to talk. You respectfully talk and let me see who will not listen to you. Then as a measure of insurance I told her, that whenever she felt she needed to talk to me and I wasn’t listening all she had to do was make the T sign to denote time out and I will stop everything and talk to her. Many times I may not understand the importance of your situation, but a T sign is something that I will always respect. Always. That’s a good note to end on. We hugged and I apologized again and again. I am really sorry sweet heart. Will try  my best, TRY my best for it not to happen but there is the T sign to fall back on.

But the issue of people not wanting to argue with me stayed. People don’t argue for afraid of losing with someone who may have a strong logical skill. So do not argue with him. Dam shit. I hate this. Argue dude, argue. I don’t know who will win. And it’s not about winning, its about talking. HELL DAM> same shit. So I guess now the tactic will be to lose arguments just to reassure people or tone down my arguments or what … I don’t know.

Forget that. I will figure that one, but the bright side. At least now that my kids growing up, it’s nice to have a chat like this. it was a bit emotional and we both were almost crying but we held. We grew up a bit together yesterday night. It was a pretty picture in the end. She is growing up and fast. Hopefully she wouldn’t have to use the T sign again and hopefully when she does, I listen. I have been happily humbled. The only good thing about all this is that she assured me that she loves my games, she loves that I make her and her friends play, she loves the twist in the games I do. And that WE RE HAVING A PARTY THIS YEAR AS WELL. HURRAY! I am not that bad a dad at all.

Good intention, good execution, but keep the empathy at all times dude. You are after all her Dad first and a (hopefully) Great dad afterwards.

its not you, its them

We came back last week from a vacation. This one was in London and was amongst the longest I have ever had. A full 17 days away from office. That’s not a normal holiday. In fact the last time I took so long was when we went to Leh. That was more than 10 years ago. This time the occasion came in the form of a friend of mine from London. In fact she was not actually a friend to start with. Just a colleague who I got along with, very well. Swati.

Swati was one star employee with our London office. She would be very demanding and my team would hate to service her. She would want things now. And she would want a lot of articles written by me. The fund manager would invariably write some rubbish for her to circulate to the clients and then she would insist that I clean it and write something better. And invariably I would do it. The way I saw it, she was the star sales person in the team. She would be the one actually doing work and it would be my duty to at least support her. The others would irritate for no reason and she would have a genuine reason to push the bar. I gladly did so always. She would call on some issues and I would solve it. Simple. No special favours. Simple work.

From then on we became slightly better friends and one day I realized (through a mail or chat or something) that she was a reader of my blog. For some reason this blog gave her something to chew on, some meaning from time to time. That was cool by me. I am not writing all the time for some deeper meaning. And when someone takes a meaning from it, that’s nice. It makes me feel nice that she read it regularly and that it made sense. That would mean that Jispa would take some sense from it when she grew up as well. That’s a nice feeling.

So we just kept in touch and she would catch up with me when would come to India. The last time she came she wanted to see Haji Ali and offer prayers. I was the happy guide. I love doing this guide thing. If there is anything that I like as much as teaching it is being a guide. Not that I know too much, but I’d like to show the world what I know. And at that time she genuinely offered to host us in London. I didn’t think too much of the offer, but then when the circumstances turned benign early this year, I mailed her. She responded and there – we just came back from a lovely London Holiday.

We had the chance of spending a good fortnight in London thanks to her amazing hospitality. A small house, but willingly and lovingly shared. More on the vacation some other day. But you know, I used to think that people are nice to me because I was nice to them. That’s what I used to think before. Now I think I have changed my stance to the opposite. People are nice to you because they are nice people themselves. There is nothing too self-satisfying here. I don’t think she was nice to me or so many people are nice because someone did something nice and we must reciprocate. People are nice because they are like that. Some people don’t trust other people, some are inherently conserving by nature or whatever. It’s them and their choice and not yours. I am nice to a lot of people but some of them choose to be nice to me, not all. It’s not me – it’s them, stupid. Which in some way is really true. Of ocurse, your contribution is not being an ass of a person, not being mean and not being unkind. Basics are required, but the choice is always theirs. They choose to be nice. Swati and her extended family were the nicest of people we met. I am convinced that is that because they are nice to start with and not because I did something great to them. Sometimes I feel some kids give me respect as I was their teacher. But that does not explain why so many don’t. The kids who are nice to start with are nice to me. Those who didn’t care, continued not to.

This is not some stupid humility stuff, but something I suddenly felt. So when someone is nice to you, thank them for being nice and don’t think about yourself. You probably contributed by not screwing up. But they are the real heroes. They are the nice guys in the equation. So it’s only upto us to learn and emulate. Hopefully someday we will catch up. Simple copy cat.

Just yesterday someone in my team was complaining about someone else and then praising how another guy was so sweet. My recommendation was to simple copy the sweet guy. There – you are done. Simple. Thank S and M! Lovely people. I am so happy I am not a freaking racist or a misplaced patriot. I am so happy I teach my daughter to be open and love everyone and try and be nice to all and not judge. The rewards are in so many different ways. Thank you god.