whats love got to do!

Ah, just past the valentine day. When I was in college Valentine day became a significant day in my life. My wife first kissed me on Valentine day :) in Eros theatre.

Eros itself had an important place in my life in college. Eros along with Sterling, Regal and to a lesser extent – New Excelsior. When I was in college we did not have the coffee shops and the places where people just went to hang out and do nothing. I so wish they were there when Jasmine and I were having our courtship days. So, young couples like us had no option really but to go for a movie. Movies theaters were nice dark places, where you could enjoy with friends as well and they were pretty cheap. In ’91 the price of a ticket at Sterling, I remember was around 8 bucks for stalls and around 10 for balcony and 15/16 for dress circle. To put it in perspective a croissant at ‘Croissants etc’ – the cake shop we used to go to – was at around 10 buks. Movies were cheap and cute places for couples to go and spend time with each other. 3 full hours of togetherness.

Valentine days were significant in our lives then. The college would come alive with love and hearts and red everywhere. Couple would revel in the romance that was in the air and guys would muster up courage to propose on this day. The card and gift shop called “Archies”, names after the archetype the young kids aspired for, would do crazy business as young ones would spend hours searching for greeting cards or gifts for their beaus. Falling in love was a slightly expensive affair.

We were possibly the first generation that started celebrating it with all gusto and pomp. Every beggar and street vendor would sell truckloads of long stem roses wrapped in white cellophane. So many of the roses and cards would land in the gutter and in the dustbin. 80% of these were because the girls rejected them and 20% of these because the girls couldn’t take them home. Valentine’s day was frowned upon as not being a part of our culture and heritage. Protests and scores of articles would be written for and against it. In the end, I guess the politicos had to bow down to the general mood of the people and silence their voices. Love cannot be stopped. It cannot be directed and slowly it will break all taboos and restrictions we place on it. I love how it is happening everywhere.

Recently we went for an engagement of Jasmine’s nephew. As we were entering the hall, I realized that the lady he was getting married to didn’t sound like a gujju name. Slowly my senses acted up, the crowd at the venue too looked different. Some kids didn’t look like kutchis and I overheard some Marathi – possibly friends. A few more minutes into the function and I knew something was different. Then when the boy’s brother came to me and we chatted up, I realized. Love marriage. Ah. The girl is Maharastrian and they met doing some professional courses. There was opposition at home from the mother of the groom but everybody worked on her and convinced her. Hah!

It was nice to see these barriers falling. At my time, the first barrier to fall was the simple issue of choice of bride. I was lucky as Jasmine and me are both Jains and some similar sub caste. Just a small difference of being gujju and kutchi. But large similarities existed. But it was a love marriage nevertheless and it broke some new ground in the family for the first time. Now inter caste marriage is happening and that is breaking another ceiling. The auntie I guess will soon realise that while she keeps her family in control and ensures a happily knit environment, love knows no barriers. The bride and the groom were looking so cute together and happy together, quietly knowing that they smashed one large barrier. Almost like – one large breakthrough for them, one small breakthrough for the rest to follow.

All the talk about integration of communities and a secular society will only bear fruit if we integrate in a real way if we allow our children to marry of their choice across barriers of caste, creed, ethnicity, age and sex. To have a really integrated society and culture you have to set people free. Simply standing up for the national anthem when it’s played in theaters and mouth it loud will lead to nothing. I would hazard that it will only create more exclusion and a behavior of race superiority. It will be ingrained towards more right wing behavior and nation will only fragment not build. Allow the tribes to intermingle for the best possible genepool distribution and competition. Allow people to move freely across cities for work and employment and from that will new ideas emerge.

Ah! But the power of unbounded love will force more power to kneel before it. Not like in the movies, where one love forces power, it will be a collective effort of love across generations. I am happy I put my one stone in the pot for the level to rise. I am happy that kids after me, will put in their stones as well. Slowly the water will overflow.

Bonus video – in the name of love!

Another random video. This is more for the lyrics that contained these words that I read somewhere

How do you measure - measure a year?
In daylights - in sunsets
In midnights - in cups of coffee
In inches - in miles
In laughter - in strife

But still and the full lyrics are below

(read till end – There is a post script)

Lyrics

Five hundred twenty-five thousand
Six hundred minutes
Five hundred twenty-five thousand
Moments so dear
Five hundred twenty-five thousand
Six hundred minutes
How do you measure - measure a year?
In daylights - in sunsets
In midnights - in cups of coffee
In inches - in miles
In laughter - in strife

In - five hundred twenty-five thousand
Six hundred minutes
How do you measure
A year in the life

How about love?
How about love?
How about love?
Measure in love

Seasons of love
Seasons of love

Five hundred twenty-five thousand
Six hundred minutes
Five hundred twenty-five thousand
Journeys to plan

Five hundred twenty-five thousand
Six hundred minutes
How do you measure the life
Of a woman or a man?

In truths that she learned
Or in times that he cried
In bridges he burned
Or the way that she died

It's time now - to sing out
Tho' the story never ends
Let's celebrate
Remember a year in the life of friends

Remember the love
Remember the love
Remember the love
Measure in love

Soloist number one
Measure, measure your life in love

Seasons of love
Seasons of love

Also on another note - I was talking to a young kid on how Valentine’s day is not so significant in our life now that we are all married and older and we don’t really gift each other much. Also add to that, that we both are … cynical? What’s a better word for it? Yes – skeptical. We just are practical about this. Yes we did wish each other but that was more for fun than anything else. Just playing out loud the ridiculousness of the ritual. Hehehe.

daddy blues

The greatest truth of parenting is that ‘by the time you realize your dad was right, you have a child that thinks you are wrong’. Luckily Jispa and me are probably better than my dad and me. We learn and understand and think about parenting largely from our experiences. Some of the best times I have had with my dad was when he and me sat and discussed stuff. So, from there I took a branch and built a tree around discussion and talk. I have tried to build my relationship with my child around that. I miss the discussions that I had with my dad and sometimes I wish he was around so that I can have some chats on this with him. My dad got his first heart attack at around 45 and his second and final at 58. I hadn’t realized the issues or the moments that I would remember him best for.

It easy to remember the sad memories and that of being scolded but then as you grow and as you have various experiences with your child you realise different things that your dad was right about.

One of the things that I don’t quite happily remember was when he went after my breathing. He wanted me to keep my mouth shut and breathe through the nose. Simple. He would see me come back from a game and he would see that my nasal passage was blocked and that I would be gulping for air and he would in in no uncertain terms tick me off. He would tell me to close my mouth at every instance. While eating, while walking, while reading, while dozing off and while talking. He was very upset with me keeping my mouth open. He was right. My keeping my mouth open would cause me to breathe shallow and would cause a lot of issues. It would break the fundamental rhythm of my breathing. It was a wrong habit and he was right in correcting it.

But I also don’t have too many happy memories of it while he was correcting them. It’s not a nice thing when your dad is going after a bad habit of yours.

Thanks to that today I largely keep my mouth closed and I know how to breathe well and I see so many kids around who haven’t learnt this simple thing – keep your mouth shut. I see so many women especially with a pout. Their lips remain separate for no rhyme or reason. This is the famous pout that models also show off. I saw Jispa with this annoying pout as well. Now I didn’t want to be like my dad on this. It would have caused my dad a lot of pressure to be like this for me and I dint want Jispa to go through the monster in me for this.

Luckily I have a channel of communication open with her. I had a conversation on this with Jispa. I explained to her how it’s important to breathe with her nose. How if you don’t use the nose it creates blockages, possibly thanks to all the unused mucus, and how it comes back to haunt you. She understood. She improved. Recently she had a small hairline fracture while attempting a high jump in school for the sports day. She landed on her hand and broke her elbow. What to do? My questions to her were – did you cry – Nopes. Nice one. Did you at least clear the height? – Nopes – A dear what a waste. The happy by product of this was that she was at home for 15 days without swimming. That meant a whole load of rest for us. Also, it was very important considering that we were to start repainting of the house and we had to stay at my brother’s place while he was vacationing. It was a nice thing for us in hindsight that our temporary relocation came alongside her fracture. We could manage without too much mess in our lives.

But coming back – she was out of action from swimming and when she restated it took her some time to get going. One of the things she was feeling is that her breathing rhythm was out of whack. For a swimmer that’s a key thing. She explained that her muscles were right, her lung capacity seemed ok, but it just felt that she was getting less oxygen per breath. I told her that, I think it’s the effect of not swimming and keeping her mouth open. While she swam, her nasal passage would remain clear and any cardio exercise would help further clear it. Ever since I started swimming and then started playing badminton, I have hardly ever gotten a cold. I remember getting sinus in the past but now my theory is that a good dose of heavy breathing helps clear the nasal passage and keeps the cold out. It’s a gift of oxygen to our bodies.

I told her about my experiences and asked her to learn from it. It was a lovely chat. She understood and gave her perspective and then she decided that she was going to try and keep her mouth shut as much as possible.

So, what is this blog about? Is it about breathing, about talking, about scolding, about me, about my dad. I think it is most about how much I miss my dad at times. I learnt quite a bit from him. I missed all the lovely conversations I had with him, I hate all the times he scolded me. But I know what a millstone he must have hung around his neck when he scolded me. Three kids and two boys in it. Of which my dad always thought of me as the kid with the most waste of potential ratio. I know what a long way I have travelled to reach where I have. The struggle and the pain I have gone through. I haven’t reached anywhere by simple god given talent. It’s been a struggle, to achieve in work, to be a parent, to be a ‘dad’, to stay fit, to be alive, to give and retain gyan – a lot of struggle.

In that I have hardly given my dad the credit that is due. Slowly I realise how it works :)

bonus video - something my dad listened to 

Social Capital

Sometimes Jasmine gets quite mad at us. Us – meaning Jispa and me. According to her we feed of each other and get worse.

Often I am accused of being too strong a personality for my child. One friend was chastising me for loving history and teaching it in a way that makes it interesting. She told me that what I was doing wasn’t fair. This was, thanks to me Jispa will love history and that I will be responsible for it. Oh come on yaar. Another day, quite recently one friend told me that its not fair that thanks to me Jispa won’t read fiction. Now what did I do? I hate fiction. I don’t read fiction but I don’t stop Jispa from reading it. Of course if she reads too much fiction I would ask her about it, hopefully learn from her point of view and understand her interests. I would get into debates about how fiction is a waste of time and effort and money, especially when there truck loads of non-fiction there to be consumed, and equally interesting. I may even win the debate but the final decision is for Jispa. She needs to know what she wants in life. And is it my fault that I am a personality, a large personality around the house with a  strong point of view. I read, I understand, I think and then I transfer. These days I have become less opinionated than before. I have become more circumspect. I ask questions to Jispa more than I teach her. She is free to think of her views and keep them but I am free to question them or ask her about another point of view. What’s wrong in that? I think not talking openly about views, counter views, questions and counter arguments is the most dangerous thing to do. The most dangerous question is not having one.

Many people will think that I am feeding Jispa opinions, debate and argument. They will think that I am feeding Jispa with my world view. What they fail to understand is that I am trying to merely instill in her a dose of skepticism. An irreverence of sorts. The ability to question everything. At one extreme it will give you no joy as you cannot trust anything. No love will be clean and unspoiled and unquestioned. But that is not the objective. The objective is to have the ability to question it and yet be comfortable with it. This is the essence of what I seek to teach.

These days picking a book to read has become a little difficult. Whatever book you pick up, there is a healthy dose of criticism in all of it. Every hypothesis that a book seeks to promote will have a strong and valid sounding counter argument. Today morning as I was sitting on the potty seat and was considering starting a new book sample  that I had downloaded on my kindle. It came recommended and had caught my eye but at the same time, had been critiqued. My thoughts flashed to another book sample that I was reading, just the day before. That one spoke about the ‘Wheat Belly’. That book’s premise is that we as humans should stop eating wheat as it causes all sorts of bad things, including making us fat. Ever since I was diagnosed as being lactose intolerant, food has become a bit of an obsession with me. I have spent a lot of time thinking and reading about food. One thing I realized was that Indians are pretty new to wheat in their diet. Only about the last 60 years or so, after the green revolution. But it became so widespread in our diet that we did not realize that our grand-parents itself hardly ate wheat. Including the granary of India – Punjab. It becomes difficult to read any book, or understand anything, or feel anything for that matter with a complete no holds barred approach and unbridled enthusiasm. I end up like today on the potty seat, smiling to myself. Ok – may this is interesting but also what are the chances of this being true. How time do I spend on book, trying to understand the author’s “POINT OF VIEW”. The same with people. A wise man told me that “don’t get close to anyone. You will find chinks even in God from a close distance.” This last one is a challenge. How do you relate to people, love them, be with them and not be close to them and not see their chinks? Possibly the answer is to acknowledge these chinks. To accept them, to anticipate them and smile when you find them. Because these deficiencies are just their but yours. These are the color of your eye glasses as you see them. I like seeing them and noticing them and smiling to myself. On a negative spiral I do get irritated with them. They have the ability to hurt me. But as Jasmine says, you love these people and you love spending time with them so just simply do that. Why think more. She is right. That’s the simple part of life, that co exists with the complicated part of life. One cannot let the presence of one interfere with the joy of experiencing the other.

These days, Jispa is coming to my lectures and giving me valuable feedback. She wants me to make these lectures a bit more interesting and wants me to be a little less strict when dealing with unruly elements. Sometimes I scold my kids just to keep them in check. I started this new thing of having a test in class basis some reading material I give them in advance that I want them to read and come. This created a weird situation. I had more than 100 kids attending my class. Oh dear me. I gave the test and gave an open offer for kids to leave. Some left but still a majority stayed. Teaching 100 kids is utter useless. An absolute waste of time. It’s like a TED talk. It becomes a monologue. No interaction, no joy. So, this time, I have made the test but the kids are free to access this online test from anywhere. If you have read the material and you are getting the test right, then you deserve the right to bunk class. That is the truth. So why should I be so fussed on attendance. Let’s see what happens today. I only want around 50 kids to attend. The genuine interested ones only!

Let’s see. Also I am impressed with Jispa’s ability to give me feedback on my teaching. She is not directly critical but suggests what she has seen as good examples and what she would enjoy. I like her style of trying to make her dad improve. Very very cool.

Coming back to the first point. According to Jasmine, Jispa and me feed off each other. I think that’s true. We tend to like similar stuff and we keep irritating mom with it. As of now, Jasmine thinks both of us are overtly anti social. Jasmine told Jispa that’ you are just following your dad without thinking. You both think that it is just cool to be anti social.” Anti social is loosely used here. We don’t mean we are anarchists and that we create unrest. Here it simply means that we are happier alone, without the really dumb people who we meet outside the confines of our home. I guess you can definitely call us arrogant, after that last statement. But I guess, when you meet so many opinionated people who don’t read and who don’t think its becomes difficult to socialize and mix with so many jokers.

Coming to another interesting point of view. Recently I heard of and read about a concept of “Social Capital” by Robert Putman. He wrote a book – Bowling Alone: The Collapse and Revival of American Community which was an extension of an essay he wrote - http://archive.realtor.org/sites/default/files/BowlingAlone.pdf . Wikipedia says “Bowling Alone: The Collapse and Revival of American Community is a 2000 nonfiction book by Robert D. Putnam. It was developed from his 1995 essay entitled Bowling Alone: America's Declining Social Capital. Putnam surveys the decline of social capital in the United States since 1950. He has described the reduction in all the forms of in-person social intercourse upon which Americans used to found, educate, and enrich the fabric of their social lives. He argues that this undermines the active civil engagement, which a strong democracy requires from its citizens.”

This made me think and rethink. I have been in the past been critical of every one’s social instinct and every little social interaction. Especially when it is all centered around food. My gymkhana organizes it festive functions around food. Independence day, republic day, gudi padava and so on. My building also has a feast on similar days. To my untrained and arrogant mind, I saw it aa waste. An indulgence of sorts by people who just wanted to gather around and eat. And may be so. But now I realise - it is a valuable creation of social capital. If you organize a stupid get together, no one will come. But if you center it with free food, people come , interact, talk and create bonds. Food is a necessity and also a chore. It is a joy to have and a pain to create. Free food banquets attract people, help them open up and talk to each other. From here on, you create social capital. From social capital, you strengthen democracy. Local clubs, associations and groups of people coming together for whatever cause they want, fundamentally help create a sense of ownership and from there self-governance shall rise. Politicians have long understood this and created exploitable social capital by creating smaller groups for common purpose. The Shiv Sena in Mumbai organized itself through branches or shakas and established wada pav centres and reading clubs across the cities. The politicos organised cricket and kabbadi events and patronized clubs. Even the celebrations in my gymkhana and housing society are to my mind politically motivated – as in organized by the secretary with a view to keeping the population happy and fed.

Social Capital is important and one must be a part of it. I am guilty of not understanding it well enough and not participating in it whole heartedly. Possibly I can’t change now, possibly it’s not for me, but it is not right for me to sit and critique the formation of it. School and colleges have these clubs. Housewives have their kitty parties. Societies and gymkhanas function out of it. Shut up and use it, exploit it, encourage it, guide it.

One small thing – the author talks about the steady demise of social capital and one thing he blames is TV and internet. But I guess, he did not realise that Internet on mobile is giving us Whatsapp groups. Here social capital is again getting formed, and strongly so. Nice. Lets wait and watch.