wake up

Today morning was rare day. I normally don’t like waking Jispa up and she senses my weakness to let her sleep. She wants me to huddle up with her and keep sleeping. I like waking her up and taking a long time to do so. But then when she needs to wake up on time and I go in, she still tries to sleep for some time, irritating Jasmine. That’s when both of us get a scolding. So I tell Jispa to wake up and get going or else Mom will scold us. Then one sharp shout from Jasmine and we are all awake.

So when we have to go swimming I hate waking her up. Jasmine’s strategy is simple, before Jispa comes into her senses, while asleep – just pick her up and put her on her feet and guide her to the bathroom. Jispa will then wake up while brushing. She may create a slight fuss but she will in the end wake up and have a slow start to her day. Today for the first time she told me that she didn’t want to go swimming. She was too tired. Now that is a tough thing to say to dad. It’s a complete bummer.  I’d like her to sleep. Sleep for more time dude if you are tired. But at the same time, you are tired because of your sets and the only way out for an athlete is to get up and swim again.

At this stage as a dad, I am discouraging Jispa from swimming. I see very little future for her in India. There isn’t much you can do as a swimmer. The coaches are bums, the system sucks and the whole environment won’t let you do anything of note. The only thing that is there is studies and college led growth. But still that’s not the whole thing. Jispa swims morning and evening. That’s great for her but I would also love her to play badminton or TT or Tennis or Squash. Play another game. Get your hand eye coordination going. Do more. Swimming is sucking away her entire childhood and my fatherhood.

I like her swimming but I really think it’s way too much sacrifice for nothing much. She should play, read and chill out in addition to swimming. But there isn’t enough time. I want to play badminton with her. That should be good fun. A good game where she beats the shit out of me. I can play a bit with her, practice, sweat it out – but hell – swimming is it. Her school vacations are also bad news. They have a June July vacation that matches with eth English Summer. So she misses out on all the summer camps that get organized. So practically she wastes her summer as well.

So I want her to sleep more. But since she is swimming and she made that choice – I have no option as well. Sorry kid but you have to wake up. If you are tired, skip the evening practice. Do the difficult thing but then you can go easy on the easy bit. That is what an athlete is. Without pain you can’t really go the distance. And I have to be the harbinger of that pain in the morning. I have to ensure you get it but I will also ensure you get a massage form me at the end of the day. I am sorry, but you forced me to do this.

So that’s the cross we have to bear. There are no shortcuts. These sacrifices you make build you. You wonder to what end goal or point. That is not given to you for now. I wonder if what we do is good. We started swimming only to get you to learn to swim, but we ended up being the fish. Today jasmine started swimming regularly, I am swimming; the whole family is getting fitter as a result, but…. I still wonder. After ten years – don’t blame me, I was just doing what I thought was best.

the new deal

I remember the first time I got pocket money. I think I was in fourth standard and it was a grand two rupees a month. I was so excited. It came from the blue, when our parents announced that we would now be eligible for pocket money. All three of us got different sums, and I being the youngest got the least at 2 bucks. I remember clearly getting that money and I remember think and counting, how many months will it take me to reach 50 bucks if I save it all. My pocket money reached 50 bucks a month till I was in the tenth and in college it was a grand 100 bucks a month. Here when I first entered college, it was the first time I was in town, roaming round with my new found friends. We all decided to go to Croissants etc, a bake shop. There I saw for the first time a chocolate croissant. I so loved it. Then I also tasted a cheese garlic croissant, yummmm. The chocolate one I remembered cost 11 bucks. Again my mental math told me that I could eat only about 9 a month. That’s it dude and that would mean no movies or anything else. Slowly my pocket money rose to hit 500 bucks a month till I finished my management education. 500 bucks was wow. That was good enough to support a lifestyle. Of course it helped that Jasmine was the rich one with her extra money coming in from tuitions she took for some neighbourhood kids. So she spent on us and I could make my pocket money go some way.
So I started with what I thought was a massive sum and ended with what I thought was a fair sum. In the middle I felt I didn’t have enough. I did not resent this or resent my parents for this. I was cool with it. One just simply did not have enough. We weren’t poor. We were gulf returnees who had saved up a pile. We had a cool house in a sky scraper but I guess the values of thrift that our parents wanted to put in us was a great thing. So while I had what I thought was inadequate I don’t ever remember me thinking it was unfair or unjustified. I was pretty cool with the money. If you don’t have , then you don’t have. No cribbing here.
But I still don’t like the pocket money concept. I don’t like a teen ager having to plan and save his money. These are his days to enjoy and spend, saving will come eventually. Sure the money is not unlimited but, the monthly pocket money concept is something I am not so cool with. It breeds more unfulfilled desire, which may come out in spending sprees when one is older I guess. But whatever, when Jispa recently was asking about pocket money, I wasn’t too cool with the idea. My first answer was that, we are with you all the time. Why do you need any money in any case? And when you want take it from us. Just let me know you want the money and I will give you. I had friends in school who got money on demand, sometimes I thought that was too much, but as long as you need to ask, what’s the issue. The tap control is with me. Jispa was not convinced. She wanted money for herself that she would spend on her own. Ok so that’s a problem. How do I give her a pocket money? Once a week, once a month? So I generally was chatting with her. She wanted once a week some sum. 10 bucks a week. That’s too low I thought. No point giving money that she will have nothing to spend on really. She also wanted to save some from that and put in her piggy bank. So you need enough to spend and save. If you want to promote savings, you need to have enough to save. So I put this question up on facebook and the overwhelming answer was to give some pocket money. And obviously the younger ‘friends’ voted for it. One other friend who is also a mother suggested that we must give money for doing chores around the house. Ok. so you don’t really get the money free, but you have to earn it.
Doing chores to get money was another bugbear for me. It’s quite a western concept. Working around the house is a family duty. You don’t need to get money to be motivated to work for the family and I hated doing the work and money would always be inadequate for what I thought would be great work. Ha. Plus I much rather pay the house help to do the work than get my kid to work for the money. I rather they work out of love or even guilt but not money. But this earning to get money got me thinking.
At the dinner table we were having a conference and we were discussing what to do about this conundrum and what must Jispa do to earn her pocket money. Till we hit a brain wave. Great. You get ten rupees a day if you practise guitar for 30 minutes. That’s it? Jispa asked. Yup that’s it. every day in the morning practise your guitar and you are eligible for ten whole bucks. That means you can make a cool 50 bucks a week. Jispa was super happy; she does what she likes to and gets PAID for it? ya. Get paid for it. But like the ultimate evil parent we too had sinister design, that are not too readily apparent. We too killed a dozen birds with one stone. To get 30 minutes of guitar time in the morning she has to - 1. Wake up on time. In other words her fussing to wake up must dramatically reduce from 15 minutes to 3. -2. She has to get in to the bath instantly. -3. She must finish her bath and brush in exactly ten minutes. -4 she must get herself ready after bath, wear her clothes etc without dreaming away. -5. She must sit to have breakfast. -6. She must finish her breakfast on time. -7 she must get up and wash her hands and face and get ready to get her hair combed. -8. She must then pack her bags and keep them ready – 9. She must then sit to practise her guitar at 6.55am which gives her 30 minutes to then wind up at 7.25 am to then wear her shoes, socks and run with me out of the house.
Believe me, these are the toughest 10 rupees she would ever make. She has been trying since the last week and she hardly managed one odd day in the middle a couple of days of 15 minutes practise. Though it was not a part of the deal; in fact it was a stated exclusion, I still paid her 5 bucks for 15 minutes. Poor thing. Today she got a tenner for the whole 30 minutes and another ten for the two intermediate ones.
The thing with being a kid is that no matter what deal you end up striking with dad, dad always wins. Somehow the parent gets it right and is able to see the hidden side of every deal. Man! Poor Jispa, she too is up against some huge odds. Every deal she makes with us, she ends up on the losing side. But at least look at the brighter side of things, I remember getting an incentive to help clean the wheat and help in the Diwali home cleaning, mopping and wiping. Here all she needs to do is strum a guitar. That’s it. Well... almost.

the truth will set you free

This is an eternal fight. Mommy versus Jispa and I am stuck in between. It’s a part of parenting that they don’t tell you about, or it’s a part of ‘husbanding’ they don’t tell you about. There is an obvious need to keep a united face in front of your child. That’s what the text book on parenting says. So that you don’t show confusing signals and make the kid play one parent against the other.
But that goes against the principle of duality of opinion. I have always believed that the opinion may not necessarily be clear. Jasmine and I can have a difference of opinion. Views may be extremely polarised and the truth is not known. In fact there can be no truth but only opinion. I have written about the time spent while having a bath. I believe there is no such thing as time spent. It is time invested, and Jasmine can finish her bath in the time it takes me to merely get wet. Jispa is a dreamer. She too can have an infinite bath time.
Let’s take another example. Poor Jasmine is trying to get Jispa to remember her stuff to do. Like put the snack box and water bottle in her bag. Now that’s a real tiring thing to do. I was much like that with my mom completely at odds to get me to do stuff. It was not intention that was the issue, there would be genuine intention. Sometimes the malaise was procrastination and sometimes the problem was simply dreams. Lost in thought. I can still go to the place where I am supposed to pick the item and completely forget what I am supposed to do. It would just pop out and I would end up doing pretty much something else. Over the years life in the professional world will not let you remain forgetful as such. I got my arse whipped, smartened up and started keeping a mental checklist and even writing down things to do during the day. But that took me 30 years. So when Jasmine and Jispa are having a run in, I am completely clueless. I want to be sweeter and take on the responsibility myself. I prefer reminding Jispa again and again and even putting the dam thing in.
So this creates chaos in the morning. Jasmine has had many calls right in the past and I don’t really doubt her instinct but the problem is that unlike her, I remember my childhood vividly and distinctly. A lot of things had left a deep and lasting impact on me. I clearly remember getting scolded for forgetting stuff. I have forgotten to do things; I have left stuff around at school and other such silly stuff. But I always used to think, why my parents scolded me for it. It’s not that I was intentionally careless. I also remember thinking that I was only a kid and that I should be given some leeway. Also not that being scolded helped me remember anything more. So that’s been on my mind a lot. I can keep telling Jispa that remember, do things right away, do not procrastinate, but I can’t really scold her too much. A sharp scold and immediately out.
I also sympathise with Jispa when she gets jammed for sharpening her pencils too much. I too remember sharpening pencils like crazy and my mom losing it saying that “I gave you new pencils just today”. By the time I got home they were a pale shadow of their original size.
This topic can go on with no real solution in sight. Jasmine can find 20 more faults in my thinking. Like the other day when she and Jispa were havinga fight over the pony tail, Jispa came ot me and out of serious frustration I just suggested that she just right now listen to mom and that she could always do whatever she wanted outside the home, when mom is not looking. Jasmine was mighty pissed. What on earth was I teaching her. Hmmm.. ya that was silly I guess. So when I got a book Delhi Calm (on the emergency), to read and on the first page the following lines had deeper meaning. “There no distinctions between what is real and unreal, nor between what is true and what is false. A thing is not necessarily either true or false; it can be both true and false.”- Harold pinter - art truth and politics.
What is true in politics is true in parenting. Sab saala maya hai. The challenge is in admitting it and more importantly handling it without conflict. So while I understand the need to put up a united front in front of the child, my bigger motive is that she knows and understands this conflict. I think every day that she must understand that there is no one view to the equation. There could be multiple points of view and that we are only taking the point of view that we believe is the best one at the point of time. Both mommy and daddy need not always agree on everything. Debate and then resolution is healthy and allowed. The last thing I want her to think is that daddy or mommy knows everything. WE DONT. We don’t even pretend to. We are only attempting the best, to the best of our ability, keeping her best interest in mind. Nothing more and nothing less.
The faster she realises this, the better an individual she will be. I love for her to see the other side of the equation at all points of time. Today morning I was googling images of Nehru for her. She needed on with kids, one with Gandhi and one alone. I came across one of him smoking. I asked her if she wanted it. She was quite surprised to know that he smokes. But I guess the ‘kida’ in her liked the thought and then she wanted that pic as well. So I promptly printed it and sent it along with the rest of the pics. It’s not necessary for her to learn that Nehru was a guy with no fallibility. Learn the truth that you can best digest! The truth will set you free. Now who said that?

wake up Jis

How can any one sleep through this? Put this on full volume and see….. especially if the stuff is playing next to your ears.



Jispa did not move a bit. She did not even bother to cover her ears or move away from the source. After five minutes Jasmine had had enough and wanted to shut this, so I had to wake Jispa my self. Some experiments last for a few minutes, some for a few days. Sometimes duds are strewn in the oath of the Hero’s journey, as he hurtles towards her destiny, with a step there, a step back and some meandering about.

This youtube is a pretty cool thing. It is quite useful thanks to the millions of people who are using it to say / teach something. Jispa’s sports day is fast approaching and she is the fastest girl in her class. Since I never did sprint for a living, I barely know its technique and science. So I try googling and picked up some videos on youtube. It was pretty interesting. One of the most important things that I knew were there put dint know how to use them, was the lean and the use of the foot (ball of the foot versus the heel) while running. Yup. Sure enough. I now am able to make minor corrections in her running. I will never know enough to be able to correct her technique too much but for a seven year old, this is good enough. There some basics, if you get them, right it should work for you.

One thing that works in all sports is head position. No matter which sport you play your head cant be falling off. It always needs to be still and stable, with minimum movement. Once the head moves the balance and coordination is lost. Except in cricket I don’t see too many coaches talking about the benefits of a still head but without fail most spots I see the champions play with a rock solid still head with minimal movement. Even while running I was telling Jispa, in your effort to run faster ensure you don’t move your head from side to side.

wakey wakey time

An nth tryst with Jispa waking up is in progress. Jispa wants to grow up and that means waking up on her own with an alarm. Good noble intentions. So she said that I should not wakr her up but merely put an alarm next to her and she would wake up on her own. Fair. I agree.
So day 1 I wake up on my alarm and press snooze. After which I put it net to her. In five minutes it rings…. Rings… rings… no effect. I put it closer to her... ring… no effect. I put it on her ears… ring … ring… no effect. Then I wake her up myself. I am ok with this, but the growing up by waking on her own is a thing she is having with mom, not me. So in the evening Jispa and mommy are having this conversation. Jispa tells me to hold the alarm near her ear. “but that’s exactly what I did”. “then papa, you should change the alarm. This is your alarm. If I hear that I think its you who has to wake up.” Ok. Lets see day 2.
Day 2 I wake up, shut the alarm and go to Jispa. I look at my playlist on the cell phone.. hmmm… a talk by the economist, nopes… aahhh… here. That should do. Bat out of hell by Meatloaf, the original 10 minute version. That should give her adequate time. It starts loud with heavy guitar and piano. Immediately Jispa wakes up and sits up. Then onto the bathroom she goes.
Very good.
Day 3 I wake up and do the same. This time the song required a full 2 minutes to wake her up. And then wait for her to sit up post which I hug my teddy for some time before sending her to bath. Mommy and Jispa have a conversation where I am called in as the prime witness. I testify and mommy says nopes. You have to get up on own completely. Jispa says ok. But I am not happy that means I have to leave the alarm and walk away from my morning teddy. Not fair. It’s the warmest teddy hug on a cold morning. So reach compromise. She wakes up and then walk to the chair where I will sit and wait for her, so it’s proved that she has woken up on her own without me after which she hugs me and I pack her to the bathroom.
Parenting… kya kya karna padtha hai.

self torture

I have taken to a new torture. While playing squash I had hurt my back and it seems to have never completely recovered. So to strengthen it I started swimming. The only window I could fit into my schedule was after dropping Jispa to the bus stop. I rush to the gymkhana at 8 for a quick 15 minute swim and then out, shower and hit office by 9. It was fine when I started this in around end November. These days with the temperature dipping I find myself the lone ranger in the pool at 8 in the morning. The water is nice and cold. I figure the best way is to dive right in and get your whole body wet as fast as possible and then furiously start the swimming. Then for some reason, (probably the breeze) after a lap or two, the water is warmer than the air outside.
For someone like me who has bath only with hot (really hot) water all through the year, even in summer, this is unreal. Earlier I never liked swimming as I hated cold water, but now I realise that the reason was that we hardly swam. It was just a place to laze around and do precious nothing. One lap and then relax for ten minutes. Now in the pool I like to get in, swim swim swim, and then get out. Unless of course it’s Goa!
Also what has helped was the really ridiculous looking swimming cap my wife got for me. When she first got it, I refused to wear it but then I slowly came around to appreciating it. This cap was shaped in a way that you cover your ears while you wear it, making you entire head water proof. With ears and head covered, the coldwater is much more bearable.
Since two days the swimming pool attendants are looking at me as if some real hard core nut has come to swim. Today she was wearing a sweater and her assistant had covered her ears with a 70‘s style muffler. If they thought that would psyche me out … they surely did a dam good job about it. But I put on my trusty ear covering cap and blanked out all the noise around me. Splash, swim, away we go.

wake up jis

Wakening up on your own is a coming of age ritual. Something I am trying to find a balance with for Jispa. How do you wake up a 7 year old for school? Especially in the winter. This happens every year when the sun is in its southern sojourn. As winter solstice returns and the mornings are darker than before Jispa opens her eyes and asks irritatingly / angrily, why did you wake me up so early. Two years back it was difficult to make her understand, but its improved then on. last year I taught her the solstices and today it came to my aid. I told her… its winter now, you remember the winter solstice, nah? … huhhh… yaaa… hmmmm… ok. Then please wake up it is 6:15.
Yesterday much as I am at loathe to give it up I finally did (I think). I pulled my muscle back a bit while lifting her after the shower. So now on she is on her own after she wakes up. My job ends after wake up time.
I remember my growing up moment when I first used an alarm clock to wake me up. I remember it very clearly. I must have been 7th or 8th standard. My marathi tuition teacher had called us for extra class at 7 in the morning and I had to wake up at 6. I told mom and dad to set an alarm for me so that I can get up on my own. While mom gave me an alarm clock set to 7. Dad told me another trick. He said to bang my head on the pillow as many times as the time I wanted to wake up. I looked at him in disbelief. He said it works try it. so I banged my head on the pillow 7 times and went to sleep. Warning: children if you re reading this: do not try this at home without adult supervision.
Well I did wake up on time but the story is not about waking up. Thanks to all the excitement of growing up and the fear associated with missing the alarm I got some really horrible sleep. I kept waking up all through the night, checking the time and going back. It was a bad night that ended in relief when the alarm actually rang.
I have gone on to miss many alarms then on and catch many as well. Poor Jasmine who have to wait at the station for me early in the morning while I happily slept through the alarm. Snooze was not a popular feature on the alarms I had then I guess. I remember hearing the phone ring… oh shit… its Jasmine. This was the family land line days and not individual cell phones…get up.. rush.. Wait jasmine. I will leave now. I remember brushing, bathing, getting ready and reaching Kings Circle station in 15 minutes flat. That was fast. I used to run full speed to the station and catch the next train itself. Wow. I could run in those days. This was peak NCC days where I could just run like hell everywhere and anywhere and for whatever the distance. I practically invented parkour. Jumping over obstacles, across over bridges, across roads, vendors whatever. (kids: please read warning again). I loved running.
Jasmine even gave me an alarm clock that looked like a monkey playing the drums for a birthday. She really tried hard.

pop...she goes

Jispa wanted to stay up till late one fine day. Jasmine told her, sure you can. But you need to then get up on your own, get ready on your own and have your breakfast on your own. When you sleep late we have a tough time getting you ready for school. So do this for a month (prove you can) and you can stay late. This was the deal jasmine cut with her. Since I was the one waking and bathing her (and enjoying it), I felt cut off from the deal. Yesterday she woke up, had her bath got ready… all on her own. We just told her the alarm is ringing wake UP. So I was feeling a bit sad that she has finally grown up and I would not be required… for now…
Today when we woke her up, we told her… come on… get up and do your stuff on your own.. she replied “aaaa…ummm…I bunking that today…” pop she went back…

Well good times don’t last do they?

Completely unrelated - I came across this awesome quote:
I have found the best way to give advice to your children is to find out what they want and then advise them to do it.

melody khau khud jaan jao

The first blog of the New Year must be funny…. Says who?..... Arree…The first thing you do / write in the New Year will set the tone for the rest of the year….. Ya? Is that so? ….. Of course. That’s why we party into the New Year and have tons of fun hoping we carry it all into the year? …..Hmmm. but don’t we mostly get drunk at these parties and embrace strangers and profess false love?...... Arree. but we also spend the part with people with love…… Hmmm. Is that so? ……Yes of course, that’s why the new year is so important and the first things we do set the tone. Haven’t you heard, well begun is half done?.......... Acha, so then I am basically screwed…… Why? What happened? ……Well nothing. Bhagum bhag is the first movie I saw this year. aaaggggghhhhhh…… Oh god man you are screwed. Kuch nazar wazar utarna tera. Teri toh band hai. full shot picture hai woh….. I know. Tell me about it. I spent 350 bucks on it! if that is truly the tone of the movies to come then I am done for. This is one of the rare comic movies that I have not even laughed once at. Even a movie like No Entry I remember laughing around twice. But this one drew a zilch. Kya shitall movie tha… man. tu sach bolta hai… merit toh abhi pure saal ki waat hai. I will have to atone for this sin.

Acha ek baat bol… bol… yeh subah subah people scene rocks yaar…. As in? … I have never understood one thing…. What? … in the morning the guys who are all dressed up in formals and saris etc are literally running…. And? .... the guys who are all dressed up with sneakers and shorts are the ones ambling along? Aisa kyun?... hmmmm. Bindu. .. Bindu?... as in point, man….haan, toh yeh opposites reconcile wala maamla hua nah?... Chandra maa bindu… Chandra maa bindu?... as in good point, man…. aaagh, saaad joke yaar but still better than the movie… toh kya? Maarte rahun kya?.... main tere ko maaru. That will be the perfect start to the year… hmmm. But two questions…. Haan puch?.... (1) Can a man actually hit his alter ego? (2) melody itni choclatey kaise bani….

Jintan and love for the morning

I found Jintan. Any one familiar with the pill? While shifting houses, akin to the ocean churn, one of the things thrown up was a sealed Jintan pack I had bought god knows when. It was good fun. Jintan was my dada’s favorite pocket mouth freshner. It was his standard remedy for me. I was never a great morning starter when I was a kid. I used to get morning sickness. Simply put early morning start on vacations in a car used to bring out the breakfast in me. So in go two Jintan’s in the hope of retaining breakfast (futile) and then in go two Jintan’s to feel better once the breakfast (usually milk) is bubbled out. So the taste of Jintan does remind me of the fond memories of travel with family. Feel funny in the morning, the memory of sticking your head outside the car and feeling the crisp morning air, keeping mouth open to dry, and the typical smell of Indian dhul – mitti. I like that. Its funny how despite being such a bad morning kid I still love and have lovely memories of the morning. I guess it’s because unlike my bro/sis who were busy sleeping and me busy puking. So in hindsight I guess puking was better to sleeping blissfully unaware of mornings, unaware of sunrise, unaware or nip, unaware of haze, unaware of beauty. I have remained a morning person since. I love sunrise, I love leaving before dawn and driving out to catch the sunrise. I guess in hindsight its no wonder I wake up early and am in office by 8.30. One hour before the din arrives. Also with the new house with lots of open spaces around I get to catch the sunrise while driving out (winter I guess). It’s lovely. I love it.
As my father in law like to say - "warning, dont miss the morning".

here is the view every morning as we drive westward.