conflicts everywhere, resolutions there

I do not know after 17 years of handling my little baby if I even understand her. My guess is that she for sure thinks we do not. She is simple and complicated at the same time. On the face of it, Jispa is extremely uncomplicated as an individual. She doesn’t get involved in many issues. She is not troubled too much by things around her and broadly she lives her life untouched by other people’s opinions.

On the other hand, some of her decisions and her mood swings we find difficult to predict or understand. I think 17-year olds everywhere are complicated people. And they have been so for ages. Its not an easy time. Even for Jispa.

I am also very conflicted on how to treat her  - adult or not. I am inclined to step off the pedal and Jasmine is inclined to stay on it. These causes a different set of complications. I think when you have one child the parental involvement in your child goes up and I think you are less likely to give more freedom to your child. We end up trying to control a larger swath of her daily life.

I have always been conflicted on this. Do I let her be and let her decide or stop her from hurting herself and doing silly things? Jispa is always fighting for her independence. I don’t know. Should we, should we not.

Every time I think we should let go, Jasmine says, that last one year. Lets just get her across the finishing line and we are done then. Why let go of it now after 17 years. Ya. It a valid argument. Our investment in her future is significant from an emotional standpoint. Surely she can handle one more year of us.

Her 18^th birthday is coming up this August. Man, after that its going to be a hell hole for us. Jispa is desperate to learn driving. I don’t know how good I will be as a teacher. How anxious I would be. Its going to fall on me to teach her. Jasmine will not be anywhere inclined to take up this task. This is going to be a severe test of my mental skills. The nest test is going to be equally fun. Would I give her the car to drive once I have taught her to? Oh boy oh boy. How is that going to happen? Which car would I give her? My bigger one or Jasmine’s smaller one. And how am I going to sit while Jasmine corrects her while she is driving.

Jasmine is a funny animal. She will be involved, want to be involved, itches to be involved but is so frustrated with Jispa that she will not teach her. Then little by little the pressure builds up and she uses a wrongly timed opportunity to speak up and then all hell breaks loose with Jispa. I predict this is going to happen in driving as well. It will be my job to teach and then suddenly once, Jasmine will start correcting Jispa and boom.

Not that Jasmine is wrong. Her observations are acute and very valid. Its her timing and delivery that is the issue most of the time. She will give it when she wants to and not when you ask for it. It’s a dark comedy that happens, which takes some maneuvering to either avoid or get out of.

Its so funny that when outside in you see, it looks like I am the aggressive one amongst the trio but as I have explained to Jispa many times, its Jasmine’s quiet aggression and doggedness that led Jispa to where she is right now, as far as her swimming, schedules, training and commitment goes. I would have slacked off way earlier if it were left to me.

These are some of the funny contradictions that a family lives with. There are so many weird combinations and complications that are best left unravelled. Right now, we have my mom staying with us. She has been staying alone for years now after she threw out both her sons. We went and set up our lives separately while she lived on her own. Over a period of time we managed to blow hot blow cold in our relationships and now we have reached fair degree of comfort in how we dal with each other.

When she threatened to throw us out for the umpteenth time, I had decided that from now on I will not fight with her come what may. So, over the years, I never ever fought, no matter what she did. Same with Jasmine. We realised there was no point fighting. We carried on and focussed on our life.

We built our house, our lives, our principals on our own. Its been a great journey. Its nice that in times like this because of how we handled ourselves, we were able to move on and get her over to live with us. That’s important. It’s a hell to be alone and quarantined like thus. Its nice to have your family together in such circumstances.

Again – its easy for me to get along with my mom and let bygones be bygones. I am amazed how Jasmine is able to handle that as well. Some of the stuff that happened was not pleasant from both our perspectives. I think its an interesting example for the rest and for our lives.

I think it is never correct to be bitter about anything and to rather have an easy disposition. You just accept and move on. You learn that it may not be the best for you at this time and that its ok. There is no reason to burn any bridges and be any bitter about your experiences. I think my mom is realising this as I am as well.

The only credit I give myself as I remember the moment years ago, as I had decided to leave the house, I promised to myself – I will not fight with mom. This one held on for years and it has still borne fruit. How do I do it to the rest of the world. I envy people who just refuse to fight any one anywhere in their lives. Cool calm people. I hate you guys. You guys by your mere presence make me feel like shit.

Its ok. I bring energy and life and action to my everyday life. My mom is also happy that while she is staying with us she is happily entertained. There is never a dull moment. I am talking, doing, fighting, boxing with Jispa, making fun of Jasmine – something or the other. She can’t believe how unlike each other; her two sons are. Placid lake versus raging storm.

There so many opposites – so much reconciliation.

buckets everywhere

Blogging is so important for your soul. Soul? Yup. It’s so important for my soul. It saved me yesterday.

Ten years ago things got bad and I had to leave home and set up my own home away. One of the things I managed to do is never ever fight with mom ever. We had our periods of talking or not talking, but I never did fight with her. I knew she is my mom and at the end of it she does care for me and she finally made me what I am.

When we were growing up shifting from Dubai to India was an episode I would have loved to forget. From plenty to nothingness. Then more crap happened as we moved here. My dad got his first massive heart attack and that was a tough blow for the family. Yes we had savings but it also meant that he would never be able to do his core job, that is as a civil engineer, walking up and down building steps as it is being constructed. We moved to our new home that they planned and we started to build our lives.

I remember having a lot of foreign things in the house as we transferred a lot from Dubai to India in the government scheme called TR (Transfer of Residence). This meant that we had a lot of stuff, but it also meant that all this quickly dwindled away. Mom started a nursery to keep the income going. We were never poor or disadvantaged at any point but it meant that we saw a contrast that as a kid I hated to see. I remember asking many things from my parents and a lot of the time, wasteful expense was not encouraged. So I guess, I heard more no’s that yes. As a kid I dint like it but I have blogged about this, that I now understand it and I bear no ill will towards my parents. I think given the circumstances that’s the best they could afford and that’s the best we could do. My blog helped me clearly explain this out for myself in my head.

On Saturday I was alone at home and I thought I could spend some time with mom. I called her and told her that I was coming home to dinner. I just wanted to spend time with her, chill around. So I spent the evening with mom. Later in the evening she told me that she wanted to buy me something for my new home which we were renovating. Ya mom, but I don’t need anything. Luckily I am earning enough and it’s not needed. Mom still insisted and she gave me a cheque. This was not the thing. She said something that in some ways just touched my heart. She said that when she had us kids growing up, we would ask for a lot of things and it would break her heart to say no to so many things. We couldn’t really afford it and hence she would be forced to say no. She said she hated doing that but had no choice. Now she has money and she wants me to buy things that I want. Hence take the money.

Oh dear dear me. It killed me. Ya. As a kid I was mindful of the fact that we had less money but also I think as a kid I asked for things. I know and thanks to the blog, I know for sure in my mind that I was aware of it and that I don’t hold that against anyone. I grew up. This blog yesterday saved my soul from being burnt with guilt.

Closer home to the present. We are building our home and we are going broke. Our complete cash flow is being compromised as we go over budget. But it’s our home and we are aware. Thanks to some circumstances we haven’t had a big holiday and we haven’t had a chance to go abroad as a family. Now with the house coming in and screwing our finances, it not happening soon either. So this time when my friend was taking kids to a diving trip to the Philippines, my first reaction was to say no. We can’t afford it – a straight 1.5L poof, gone, for one person. That was not happening. But Jasmine told me – its ok dad. Where we send her anywhere. We can’t go but at least she can. It’s not that we can’t manage. I was agreeing but I did not want to screw the finances. I would have had to sell my shares (hard assets) for this. Jasmine still said ‘for what do we have all this’. If at this age she cant go then when will she go? Every time something or the other comes up. I agree. It does. One HUGE regret, we didn’t go to Hong Kong Disney when she was the age for it. I still find myself a failure as I couldn’t take my kid to DIsneyLand. I always wanted to do it. I had the money at the time but the outlook was bleak and we postponed it and it then never happened.

So I agreed. Jasmine was right. She IS right. My sweet mom, is right trying to do amends. I can do it right away. Ya its big but it’s not that I can’t afford. It can be made up and we can manage. Jasmine and me discussed that at this stage, we are older and we can choose not to go diving. Instead of all of us going, let Jispa go thrice, its better bang for buck. Ya. I wanted to do scuba, sky diving, bungee jumping and other stuff. But I am not worried. I think I will manage to do it. I went to the silicon valley and met all the tech companies – that was one off the bucket list. The others will come. But at least a 15 year old can tick one for herself now. That’s a great age to develop passion and experiences. Not 42. The next age I think is 54. That should be fun.

I told my mom yesterday – mom, your kids are cool. They work hard and they enjoy their lives and they have money. Take all your money and live however you want to. Don’t leave a penny for us. Not a penny. So while she also told us no while we were kids, I also know, they told themselves no for so many things. Who are we to judge our parents or anyone in history.

History – today I did a long cherished dream. I was a tour guide to Elephanta. A couple of our friends came in from Canada. Two old women who are absolutely amazing. I took them there and showed them the caves and helped them understand a lot of Mumbai, India and the caves. This is my third visit to the caves and I loved it. I reread the book and now I am able to interpret it completely from my eyes and my angles. History is about interpretation and so is mythology. I see the caves very differently from how the others would. For me, it’s my own version of the story and the architecture. It what I want out of it and how I am able to share my vision with others. Wow. I was so thrilled. I took a laser pointer and took my friends to the caves. Soon enough, a guide came up to me and asked me if I needed a guide. NO. I am good. But they insisted. They said, they were ASI certified guides and only they could show the monument, not me. Yes – I understand you. But I am not a guide. I am friend. I am not charging any money and I am not soliciting any tourists inside the monument. How can you stop me? I am a banker and not a guide, you don’t see my face every day and please, there is no law against what I am doing. I was disturbed three to four times. I think not many understand that normal everyday people can also have a reservoir of knowledge and want to freely pass them on. Jokers. I had quite a few arguments and I was pissed. While leaving, they again confronted me and told me that it’s not right. I again stood my ground. There is no law on this. These are my friends and I can show them around, without you. Arggghhh. This was irritating. The guards were very reasonable. They came and asked me – are these your friends, then there is no issue. You can do it, it not against any rules. We left the place, but it was super fun. I loved it and I realized that I could explain this temple without a book and with ease and build a credible, or should I say incredible story around it. I am going to retire and be an official storyteller. The name of my company is going to be  - ‘Through My Eyes’. I hope to retire rich enough to start this passion where, we take super care of all the tourists and have a free model with an ability for the tourist to pay whatever he wants at the end of it. No questions asked. I don’t mind a small box at the end where I don’t even know, who paid how much, so people pay for value and not for show.

Then I took them to St Thomas Cathedral and in and around the Fort area. I loved the 8 hours I spent with them. It was beautiful. I told them, don’t thank me – my wife would tell you – I need to thank you for allowing me to do this. To be mistaken for a tour guide in Elephanta - One more off the bucket list!

son

Todays is my mom’s birthday. I have a very weird relationship with mom. For 30 years, I was a good son and practically listened to almost everything and did all the good things that a good son should. I came home on time, took care, ate well and did nice things. After marriage, I tried sorting things and making things work within family fights and disputes but at the end, after Jispa was born we couldn’t take it anymore and we left to stay separate. It’s been an on and off relationship ever since. Every time we get close mom pulls one request or a thing out of the bag and it becomes impossible to be sane about the whole thing. My only solace is that I have chosen to never fight with her on anything, after we left to live separate. This makes sure that no one can accuse me of saying anything to anyone in anger. It would have only made for more bitterness

When my sister decided that for today, she would compile a list of articles from everyone about her, she also asked me to pen something down. This was easier said than done. I had to write something honestly but not let any of the bitterness or “could have been” come through. It had to be truthfully from the heart but not full of emotional crap that set to settle scores or give a point of view. I started to write from my early memories and wrote about how she defined a lot of what I am today. I think in the end, I managed to strike a good balance and write a decent note. My sister was impressed. She wondered how I could write so well and how I could remember all these small details. I told Jasmine – “I wonder how, but my family still thinks that I am some petty little piece of shit.” Probably I will always be the younger kid for them.

But here – below is the write up that gave my sister to be included…

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When you have to write something for you mom, it’s always a difficult and dangerous thing. Difficult because you never know which memory to pick over the other and which one to highlight; and dangerous because – she is your mom – you never win against your mom. It goes like a cheap Hollywood movie – everything you say (or don’t) can and will be used against you in the court of law. And here the law is not blind but all seeing, all knowing and ever present… That’s you Mom.

Normally such write ups start with an early memory. The first time someone set their eyes on someone, or the first time they heard of someone. That is normally the best place to start. But when the person in question is the all-powerful Mother, then how do you start. What was your first moment? Your supposedly super hero origin story itself starts inside of her. This further gets complicated by a simple problem. How do you know which one was the earliest?

Having tabled my difficulties, I guess my most vivid memory and probably earliest memory was the first day I was being sent to Nursery school. I am likely to get a lot of facts wrong but I think that our cousins had come over to stay with us at Dubai and it was my first day at Nursery which I did not want to go. I kept clutching at mom and fighting to go till Dad got into the picture. I don’t remember what convinced me to go but I guess (and I am told) that Dad had to give me a rap, after which I duly complied. That’s as good a first story as it gets.

Now let’s get to another story – this one is especially special! This defined what I did for the rest of my life. Once I clearly remember as a very small kid, I was sleeping next to mom. I turned and put my right arm on her and my right leg on her. And I slept. Slept well. That one moment defined how I slept ever since. I can get sleep only by sleeping on my tummy with my right leg folded and my right arm folded under the pillow as if I am still hugging mom. So every time in at night when I sleep, I sleep with my mom next to me. I have tried some times to sleep on my back or in any other position but I have failed. I can only sleep with my mom next to me on the right.

Here are a few other memories while growing up. Here are a few other memories:

Somit slapping me and triggering an acute pain in the ear, thanks to an infection and me running to mom. Yah, thanks Somit for being there!

Me wanting to sleep every night after drinking milk which mom made from milk powder for me.

Ah this other one is also special for me in a weird way – Her bangles. She has these gold bangles with angular ridges. She has been wearing these for so many years now. I hate to see them pushed up on her hand and sitting tight on the arm. Always I have just nudged them loose as they fall by the wrist and dangle and make a soft mellow clanging sound, that only golden bangles can. I can never see any bangles high up on the arm. I have to push them down to the wrist. I remember her wrist, the small dots (freckles kind of) on the back of her hands and her veins. Her hands are similar to that of her mom. I loved playing with them and from there on I loved playing with my veins on the back of my hands.

As a young boy growing up, you have a connection with your mom but your hero growing up is your dad. It’s always a mixed feeling. You love mom more but as you sprout your moustache and manhood hits, the lessons of daddyhood hit you and that’s your role in society that you emulate. But small things that mom tells you remain. For now, how you organize your kitchen. I still like my kitchen the way mom kept it.

One another thing that mom taught me about relationships is that she used to always say, dad never asked her about money and never ever questioned her spending. That is one lesson about being a husband that I learnt from mom. I have followed in your advice mom, which was never explicitly said but still I learnt it from you. Never question your wife on the expenses. If she is in a good mood, you will get a detailed expense list and if she is in a bad mood, you will get … err… let’s not get there.

These are specific memories that I have that have helped me grow up. There are a million more. I have a lot of scars from the wounds I have got and almost in every one of them I remember thinking of mom, rather than dad. That is in spite of the fact that it was dad doing all the hard work and the dressing. But it was still mom who I sought comfort in. I remember the smell, the shoulder, the stomach and the hands like crazy.

So yes, mom in many ways has helped me grow. But at a more philosophical level, sometimes an important aspect of a family that really permeates through is how she held the family together at dinner. Dinner was always together and on the dining table and without the TV on. She insisted on this, with only cricket matches being exceptions. National pride before family, I guess. Dinner table was especially important for sharing notes, talking and humor.  Mom encouraged that, allowed that and was a butt of many jokes. Even today the Parekh khandaan saga will have me in splits. Mom was sporting enough to laugh at it and to take it all in good jest. That family togetherness, humor, teasing and bonding is something that was sacrosanct on the Doshi dinner table. That brought the family together, allowed for change, improvement, and some amazing memories. All that I learnt by being the youngest and the benefit of everyone’s expense was on the dinner table. While mom was possibly the most silent on these occasions, I would give almost all the credit for tying it together to her. This more than anything defined us and will define our families and then their generations for years to come. Jispa, Angel and the two Kamdar brothers should know this for sure. This is where their dinner table finger pointing and laughter comes from. So, dear Arjun, when Amisha calls you for dinner, don’t moan and act all pricey. Blame Naani but at the same time quietly thank her. For one day, you will be a man one day thanks to this.

cut the crap

Well… mom came into have lunch yesterday at home. This is the first time she has stepped into my house. Jispa and I were obviously thrilled. I showed mom around the house. And we lunch later. Well, it’s a start. Things go wrong all the time.

In the evening I asked Jispa if things went off well. She was also satisfied. She knows all the history and she reacts like a good level headed adult. I was happy with that. She remarked while going to sleep – “its odd that after six years of staying here, we had to show grand mom the house”. “ya Jispa. Shit happens. Buit what is more important is that you forgive and forget. You move on. Its not right to keep your anger inside. Move on. Shit happens.” And then just for kicks I said “you remember that day when you were angry with me. I had asked you to wear your shoes fast and you thought you couldn’t wear them faster. You were angry at me for a long time. Almost half way to the bus stop. See… you keep your anger so long”. Awwww….. We hugged and she then slept.

I never wanted to tell Jispa about any of the issues I faced with my mom. But mom opened the box and I was forced to clear the air and explain the whole truth. In the end, while I was forced to do it, I guess it was the right thing to have been done. Jispa seems old enough to understand the issue. She has reacted very well and understood it and not made any song and dance about it. She notices the small things. The other day when Jispa and I went to mom’s house and mom asked about Jasmine, Jispa too noticed it.  That’s good. We don’t know but the kids have a tendency to grow up and face issues. They surprise us in ways we think not possible. Alls well… for now at least. Cross fingers.

Just on another note – someone gave Jasmine scissors with five six blades on it. It’s like having six pairs of scissors fused with one handle. The use for this is to cut green leafy vegetables. It seemed logical enough. Why us eth knife when you have these multiple scissors. But that is the classic case of something which looks completely useful and logical but absolutely useless. You wash the green veggies and then use the scissors.. what happens is that the food gets all stuck between the blades and somehow the cutting isn’t smooth. It crushes half of the veggies before cutting them. Dam. So Jispa now uses the same for her craft. And what can she do with it… make a chef hat for one. So she made herself a hat and made us some fresh lime juice. Happy things.

Birth Right

. Jasmine had gone to her mummy’s house for the delivery. It made sense as the hospital we wanted for the delivery was her aunt’s hospital right in the same building. And I am not too much of a stickler for tradition. I remember the doc saying that the delivery would happen at any time. We kept waiting and waiting. At the end on the 30th August in the morning Jasmine was admitted in to induce pregnancy. Jasmine called me to tell me such. The doc said that the procedure will take time and that any action would only happen in the evening. I finished my work and then went to boss to tell him that I would be not likely to come in tomorrow as my wife is admitted and is likely to deliver. He looks at me half agasht. What are you doing here is she is admitted. I say – chill, it’s Jasmine’s cousins nursing home and they say the action will happen in the evening. I was pretty cool. As predicted the action happened late at night. With my mom, mom in law, sister in law – all at the hospital. Jasmine’s cousin shooed them away by telling them that a lot of time is left. Then she got me in to the delivery room as I had requested. I was not going to miss this one for sure. I was by Jasmine’s head holding her hand. She squeezed it real tight. It hurt a bit afterwards. Jispa was born in the morning at around 2 am. The first thing I do after looking at the baby is I tell Jasmine “it’s Jispa”. We had decided the name long time back. Around a year back we had gone from Manali to Leh by road. Jispa is a small idellic village that we halted for a night. Dry weather, a river running through, high altitude and mountains around. I liked the place and I liked the name a lot. A name that is unconventional, not of a particular caste or creed and almost a global nationality.
We then called all the mothers in. We had some talk form them on wondering what the name would be. I let the banter continue for a while before telling them that the name is Jispa. My mom wanted to name her according to the rashi (celestial configurations). I told her to take a hike (in different words though:). Jispa is her name. A name with a dream attached. Someday I wish that she goes there, on her own (or with her partner), spend some time there, go for a trek around there, mediate and be one with her own air. A bit of inspiration.
Before she was born I used to sing to her, meri soni, meri tamanna, jhut nahin hai mera pyar. Jasmine and I used to laugh a lot saying my singing would make the baby cry inside. The morning she was born also, I have carried her singing the song. We realized that whenever she cried a bit and was inconsolable, singing this song would make miraculous quiet. It was her favorite song and I was a horrible singer. It worked!
Post delivery Jasmine needed me as well. She was made to eat all these stupid traditional stuff by her mother who thought it would be good. Ya sure. A lot of stuff is good for you but you just can’t eat it. Yuucckkk. I told jasmine to just throw it out of the window or in the drain. Normally I would not interfere too much, but once her mom pushed too hard. I got in and warned her “if you force Jasmine to have stuff against her will I will take her home” “butt…” she protested. “if you force jasmine to have anything she does not want, I will take her home” I firmly repeated with a dead pan expression. She got the point.
Just after Jispa was born, my office shifted from Nariman Point to Worli. I used to catch a bus from office and run to meet Jispa every day. Go in, wash your hands till your elbows, wash your face and then go real close. She would lick my face; eat (?) my nose. I would love to go in everyday, stay over at her place and play all day long. My mom didn’t like it. It was not proper. I didn’t care two hoots. My squash coach also just became a father. He was saying that he keeps going on and off. It doesn’t look too good if you go again and again. What shit? My wife, my daughter. I wouldn’t listen to any argument. I loved them; I would go and visit them. EVERYDAY.

THE song: