Conversations with a 6-yr old - Again

Dev: Seriously, you are lost in the carpark? Why don't you turn the GPS on?

10-yr old Dev is approaching adolscent levels on the 'absolutely annoying' scale. "Seriously" is a word that prefaces every sarcastic utterance - which is to say, anything uttered by Dev.

Div: The GPS will not work in the carpark. Right, Amma?

Mom: Umm Hmm ....

Div: It needs sunlight protection.

Mom: What?

Div: You know the lady will say, when we enter B1, "sunlight protection lost"

Dev: Aaaiyyyoh!! Its SATELLITE RECEPTION. Seriously, Div!!!!

Conversations with a 6-yr old

"You mean Thatha had an accident?" queries Div.

"Yes, in July, remember I told you. He was hit by a scooter." replies Mom.

"Has he died? " Div asks.

"No, sweetheart. You spoke with him last week (December). He fractured a bone in his hip.", Mom replies patiently.

"Oh. Why did the scooter hit him? Was the man on the scooter not looking? Was he looking this side? " bang, bang, bang - last question accompanied by a sideways cock of the lovely 6-year old head.

"Yes, he was not looking carefully," still answering.

"Oh you mean Thatha was here (left palm indicating rough spot) and the scooter was here (right palm about six inches away. NB :drawing not to scale) and the man was looking this side (head turned away from palm representing Thatha)? "

"Umm Hmmm.."

"Oh. Thatha was walking to the car or what?"

"No Thatha does not have a car, he was walking back home."

"Oh. Did he know the way back to his home?" (because it could be a very valid reason why he was involved in a accident, he may have been lost)

"Yes, he did."

"Hey Amma, that is Farveenisha's home!" Thatha dumped. "When can I go to Farveenisha's home to play? "

(Total Minutes elapsed from question 1 to change of topic - 2 minutes)

The Young Ones

I read this in the Straits Times in an article about Philip Jeyaretnam joining the PSC. Talking about interviewing potential scholarship holders, he said ‘When you’re 18, you’re entitled to try out different viewpoints. Part of the fun of being smart and young is actually to argue different sides of the coin.’

It reminded me of my own interview for the SIA Youth Scholarship, nearly 20 years ago, when I was 16. India had just gone through an election where a National Front coalition had won and V.P. Singh became the Prime Minister. Perhaps it was because I had Political Science as one of my subjects in the junior college that I was studying in at that time, the conversation veered towards the election. I said I was very happy that the decades long domination of the Congress Party had been broken and that we needed a fresh perspective. My parents had voted against Congress that year - after many years of being staunch Congress supporters. Clearly, I was channelling some of their views.

But somehow the conversation pursued on this track - I am not sure how, but I ultimately concluded the topic by saying what I would really want for India is a Communist government. I can remember the excitement with which I made the case for a Communist government - at 36 now, I can sadly not remember any of the arguments I made. For maybe I do not believe in any of them now.

Of the panelists - one was a fairly senior Ministry of Education Officer (we later found out). He said with raised eyebrows and a wry smile, "Communist? " "Yes!!" I said fervently.

Later my father questioned me - "what did you talk I about?" "Oh this and that, " I replied. "I said I thought India should become communist." He looked at me incredulously, "Lets pack our bags and leave," he said, "You are not getting this scholarship. Don't you know anything about Singapore? "

I guess the Ministry official subscribed to the essence of Philip Jeyaratnam's statement - I got the scholarship. Can't claim much on the smartness front, but idealistic I was and was able to readily defend my views.

Which is a lot more I can say for myself now. Over the years, most of my views have become resolutely centre of the continuum - regardless of the topic. At times I wonder if it is age (and attendent wisdom which is to see the world not as purely black and white but swathes of grey?) or living in a fairly affluent society where practicality seems to be valued over idealism (even in the enduring democracies like UK and US, the distinction between right and left is increasingly getting blurred).

Or is it simply that the ability to wage a debate is too exhausting intellectually - especially after one has turned simply into a receiver of information, not so much a processor - in this age of information overload. Seriously, between keeping count of Angelina Jolie's children and Tiger Woods' misstresses who has time for ideology.

I know not what it is. The soul searching has to be the topic of another blog. For now, I simply feel a little sad that I am no longer that girl who dreamt of a communist India.

Wonderment

As we walked from NTUC in Hougang, daughter D notices a crack in the paved walkway.

"Amma, the Earth has cracked, " she declares solemnly.

"That's just concrete, sweetheart. It is not exactly the earth.", I try to explain.

"You mean someone built this?" she queries.

My affirmative answer results in a silence of a minute, after which she asks, "Amma, what did they stand on, when they built this?"

I said it too soon

I said I was ready for the vicissitudes of child-rearing. Bring it on - I said arrogantly. And boy has it ever been raked in - vicissitudes wise we are scaling some pretty decent heights. Dealing with major boundary issues - how much computer time are you allowed? When privilege of computer has been taken away for transgressions - how do you punish the child for sneaking behind your back and playing computer anyway while you are away. What to do about the cover ups of the sneaks ups. Are they lies? Or an act of self defence? Will not curbing them develop the child into a pathological liar? Will curbing them to harshly just induce the child to hide more?

The books and Dr Spock, wax eloquent about setting boundaries and communicating them very clearly to the child. They also say to communicate very clearly the consequences of not respecting the boundaries. They have been mum on the topic of communicating the consequences of not respecting the boundaries of the consequences. Huh, Say that again? That's right - I figure I am just a muddle headed mom - who does a bad job of communicating both boundaries and consequences.

And I fret - o how do I fret - about this whole parenting issue. The hubby has a fairly easy solution - swift smacks on the bottom. There's communication for you. But how long does this method last? Does it guarantee that when the bottom smack-able age has passed, a beautiful boundary bound and consequence cognizant adolescent rises from the ashes of this baffled 10 yr old.

And baffled he is - yes he has done things that he should not do - but he does not seem to be able to help himself. He nods vigorously when I practice the preachings of the books on him - perhaps just to get me to shut up - but I do sense a small child somewhere that wants to do what is right ..... but oh! no computer is so cruel a punishment and if she does not know I played computer on the sly, and I complete ALL my god zillion pages of homework -it should not really matter. Should it? If a tree falls in the woods and nobody hears it, was there a sound? Or something like that.

I do love this child - so so much. I do fear where these green shoots of misdemeanour will lead to, unaware how they will develop - either into bigger mischief or to hinder the potential for achieving great things. I am hoping for the normal sitcom solution to such situations where the child miraculously understands the errors of his way and hugs his parent - and then willingly gets grounded of a month. Happily ever after.

A Journey of a different kind

I return to a rather stale topic - working mom or stay at home mom. I got support from a rather unexpected source yesterday. My 9 yr old had been appalled when I quit my position as VP in a bank April 2008. "You will have no name cards!" he exclaimed. "And your Blackberry? You will have no blackberry!"

I had thought he would be thrilled at the idea of mom staying at home, but he was rather disconcerted. I later found out that that he used to very proudly tell everybody that his mother was a "Banker". Well, since the beginning of this year I have thrown myself with gusto into the business of Financial Advisory. I have been worrying whether in my desire to succeed in my chosen vocation I have been neglecting the children.

"So what do you think of Amma working as a Financial Consultant?" I ask.

"I think its good. You help others plan their finances, which is a good thing." say De thoughtfully.

"As good as being a banker?" ... "Yes, as good." comes the response.

"But do you think I should spend more time with you? "

"No, I think you are trying to spend some time with me - that's enough. Besides, I like asking you about your work."

"But don't you sometimes wish Amma would be at home and cook you your meals?". "Naat really....." says he, "Aunty can do it quite well! I think you would be better off going out to work. Anyway, just strike a balance between working and spending time with me. There is no need to give up working."

Children do have the knack of making things simple - if Aunty can do the cooking quite well, why on earth would you want to do it? My new namecard sits proudly in his collection of his parents' namecards - the blackberry is not missed, because I have all these wonderful software from various firms I represent spewing illustrations used in financial planning.

This has to be added to the list of grown up statements / reactions from De:

1) Amma, don't agonise your day, organise your day.
2) "Are you busy, Amma?" - the opening statement anytime a phone call is made to me during the day. The understanding he displays - his mother may be otherwise occupied and may not be immediately available - is to me, astounding. If I am in a meeting, it is always followed by "call me when you are free."
3) Its ok for you to want to do well in what you do Amma. I think it is quite natural for people to want to succeed in their chosen profession ....... (and I am not paraphrasing)


I do lament that I am unable to travel geographically due to a myriad of constraints - kids' school, financial consideration of 4 people travelling, kids' preferences when travelling, reluctance to holiday without the kids - oh the list is endless. But then I think of the journey this child has made - from almost sheer silence upto the age 3 to these incredibly fascinating conversations at almost 10. Through travel I mostly seek to grow as a human being - to understand different perspectives. As far as growth is concerned - this journey of parenthood has certainly been an intensely rewarding one.

I certainly look forward to the pittstops ahead - come as they might with warnings of treacherous alleys and slippery slopes through adolescence and beyond.

Kids!

Found in daugther Div's notebook - My bother's name is Dev. Hmm - children never lie. Big brother is a big bother mostly.

Dev has had another growth spurt and at 9 stands slightly higher than my shoulder. We were talking about how he was getter bigger and bigger. After a slight pause Div asked seriously "Is he going to burst?" and profferred an explanation "you know like the balloon gets bigger and bigger and bursts!"

Dev took the swimming survival test couple of weeks ago. About 20 kids set off to swim 8 laps in the olympic sized pool as part of the test. Dev started well - but began to lag even the tiniest of participants. Now I am a new age mom - I believe trying something is as important as the result and that it is important to give one's best to everything. So when he seemed to be struggling, with a firm resolve not to judge and only to encourage, I walked the lengths of the pool along with him, shouting out words of encouragement. I was heartened to note that my efforts were bearing fruit - I heard Dev say to himself "Don't Stop. Don't Stop".

I felt chuffed. What a wonderful mother I was. When Dev, an avid computer enthusiast, fulfils what, it seems to us, will be his destiny in something to do with IT - he will remark in his first major print interview, what a positive influence his mother had been on him. Thoughts such as these swirled in my head.

As he emerged out of the pool dead last, fifteen minutes after the kid before him, I went up to him. "Well done, Dev", I said, hoping he would make a mental note of how his mother had only sought to encourage not criticise; expecting I know not what, but some recognition for having walked the course with him. "So what's the plan for the day?" he asked. Just like that, no reference to the swimming. Coming from Dev, that question was shorthand for "when can I have my alloted hour of computer time." Hmm - a small disappointment. "We will talk about that later. But, did you like that Amma walked with you? Did it help you? I heard you say "dont stop, dont stop"? " I asked. Ok, my mom was not into new age stuff - results mattered to me!

He looked a little startled, waited a little and then said "Did you hear don't stop - I think I was saying Desk top."

Kids!

Slumdog Millionaire - Part One : The Movie

Totally agree with HPBlog : which game show would go for a commercial break after the question has been revealed? But then, Indian cinema goers regularly check in their sense of disbelief at the ticket counter - actually all moviegovers do that (remember Dumb and Dumber?), to be collected on their way out of the cinemas. So it would be querulous to dwell on that point. Apart from that and a couple of minor complaints (which I will get to) - I enjoyed Slumdog Millionaire. It was a delightful love story.

It is always a problem when one watches a movie that has won multiple awards - very few actually live up to the hype. Slumdog had the additional distinction of igniting a burning debate on the portrayal of the slums. On both counts, I felt the movie fell short. While the movie was well made and extremely engaging it was not earth shattering in anyway. It did not define a new cinematic experience, the story did not make you reach out to dark recesses of your psyche or evaluate your values, the acting was ordinary - music was good - but will I remember it 10yrs later - like I remember some other rahman songs? Cinematography wise it captured the momentum and dynamism of Mumbai well I thought, but then again I am no expert on that aspect of filmmaking. I can only judge it by how it moved me and I felt the 2 hours that I spent in the cinema, I thoroughly enjoyed.

Minor complaints related to the sketch of the Sikh family denying the 2 boys some rotis on the train while the American tourists showered them with dollars. Middle class India is not heartless. Perhaps they would not have condoned the kids stealing, but they would certainly have not begrudged hungry children 2 rotis. Also not all tourists are bleeding hearts - some tourists come to India with suspicion and skepticism in their waist pouches together with their passports, thanks to unflattering reports in the media of some aspects of life in India. My own in-laws travelled to India in 1996 with mineral water bottles from Malaysia as they had seen a programme on CNN saying that mineral water bottles in India may be tampered with.

What I liked best was the editing that kept the story moving at a great pace, while not losing any of the emotional dimensions of the story (please Hindi movies, no 4 minute songs on judai, after hero and heroine have been separated.)

So the verdict on the awards is that it was over-hyped, probably more an emotional response to a story - rather than a commendation of the many aspects of the art of filmmaking. I remember walking out after watching Omkara, an Indian adaptation of Othello, stunned, happy, sad; with a great sense of being involved in a story that I had known every twist and turn of, even before I stepped into the cinema hall. That to me is powerful storytelling. I did not feel that awe about Slumdog. I will remember, years later, that the movie was a multiple Oscar winner - but are there individual scenes etched in my mind - like there are scenes from Gandhi? Not really.

Finally, I wish Anil Kapoor had been less of a monkey on the red carpet and more gracious at the stage.

Thought Bubbles

I had a frenzied, but thoroughly invigorating weekend - to the extent that I felt I had accomplished a lot. The only negative point would be the awful movie that I perversely watched through to the end on Sunday night. Trust the Man boasted of a very talented cast : Julianne Moore, Maggie Gyllenhaal (I really like her, its so sad that she gets overshadowed by that beautiful brother of hers) Billy Crudup (an intense actor that I really liked in some movies that I really can't remember. I think I remember him primarily for making my "short guys that I find attractive" list. Yes, I am a heightist and will not apologise for it - so shoot me!) and finally David Duchovny (whose life imitates art, as David checks into a self help group for sex addiction in this movie before checking into rehab for the same in real life. Hmmm). The movie was engaging in very small slivers, primarily due to the cast. The plot was thin, it lacked the emotive depth of a drama or the sheer comic value of a rom-com to make up for the lack of story line. The ending was utterly, utterly cringeworthy. Makes you think that even the half decent rom-coms require considerable talent to pull off and also really appreciate the genius of those auteurs whose work one finds immensely enjoyable.

The full length windows in our living room are a good reflecting surface at night. My daughter D, was doing her puzzles as I watched the movie. Suddenly she stared at her reflection intently. This went on for a couple of minutes, she was focussed and seemed to be thinking hard, almost willing something to happen. When she caught me looking at her, very earnestly she asked, "Amma, why is that thing not coming?" - while drawing a thought bubble over her head.

Ah, the wonderment of a child. And why do we ever lose it?

Midweek Oasis

I had a great night out on Wednesday. Thanks to Caustic Yoda and his friends from New York, as well as some old friends from Singapore. We had dinner at Lau Pa Sat and then had couple of drinks at Emerald Hill and Arab Street. Part of the fun was going back to Emerald Hill after nearly half a decade and discovering a very cozy nook in Arab Street - most of it however was the company.

J and D were New York residents who were on a 3-week, perhaps month long trip of Southeast Asia. I really liked both of them. They were B-school grads, lived and worked in NY - all of which ratcheted up my estimation of how they rated on the intelligent-suave-cool scale. Not that they were not any of the above, but they were both incredibly warm human beings above everything else - unassuming yet intriguing personalities, whose conversations weaved between present and past - their Cambodian experience with street children selling postcards was told with as much good humour being stared at while touring the Singapore National Museum; stories of this trip were peppered with references from past trips and updates about friends from New York. What I found remarkably reassuring was the way they shared their experiences - they did not make headline statements about Singapore or Cambodia or anywhere else, seeking to sound well travelled or worldly wise. They did not dissect, examine and make a thesis of any of their experiences. They were not boastful nor condescending yet ribbed each other good humouredly throughout the evening. I think much had to do with the lilting cadence of J's narration and the gentle smile with which D made most of his observations. It was also good to have 'met' a part of a good friend's life, of which I had only had very fleeting glimpses thus far.

It was nice to have spent a light evening not talking about the economic crisis or the imminent collapse of the banking system. Not arguing if investment bankers had had their comeuppance or whether capitalism was dead. It was my midweek oasis.

BeLonging

I am on FaceBook. Funny how a social networking site which I only thought had appeal for teeny-boppers has become so popular with the 30-40 somethings who count as my friends, acquaintances, colleagues, past and current.

Recently however there has been a flurry of activities among my friends joining groups or becoming fans of groups. My best friend seems to be on a musical odyssey, leaving a colourful trail of musical genres and groups that I scarcely know of, as he frenetically adds his name to burgeoning fan-lists. Some have joined causes supporting rights of Indian women to celebrate Valentine's Day while others will attend a photo-essay supporting the rights of Nepali women to education. Groups are being formed to bring together old schoolmates from far flung cities together in cyberspace (one enterprising former classmate of mine got together about 18-20 members of our 50 strong Std X class after nearly 18yrs of no contact). Memories are being shared, anecdotes exchanged, embarrassing photographs uploaded and compared with current photos with families in tow.

Is it FaceBook/Internet and the avenue it provides for interaction on multiple planes and a grandiose scale or is it the economic crisis which has rocked our foundations, that is spurring this flight to attain a sense of belonging? Do we need to redefine ourselves not as bankers, consultants, journalists, teachers but as friends, activists, aficionados, intellectuals? Is it helping to turn the clock back a little, taking us to more exciting times where we dreamt of changing the world, stayed up all night discoursing ideas, sought to experience new sensations through music or written word or cinema? Or is it just that the crisis has left us with a lot of time on our hands?

I feel a sense of bewilderment amidst this activity though. I have chosen this time, not reach out wider or explore life from the perch of experience - but to embark on a new career which has me focused on activities at an infinitesimally micro level - learning, practising, thinking, applying -all within the realm of my profession. So, no I am not plunging into the depths of new adventures - neither through travel nor through music; neither through books nor through art. If I imagine it in my head, I walk back slowly retracing the steps of the past 12 years, slowly climbing into my cocoon - a chrysalis yet again. That the burst of colours when I emerge this time will be vibrant and enduring - that is what I will BeLonging (for).

Robert Downey Jr and Heath Ledger

I watched a movie called Chances Are, when I was 16. That was the first movie I watched in Singapore - watching a movie without seeking permission from my parents, splurging $5 (times 9 to convert into Indian Rupees then) on this luxury, made this movie a momentous one for me. I think it was February, when love was in the air. Or maybe I am mistaken - but my enduring recollection of the movie is totally losing my heart to Robert Downey Jr. He of the chocolate eyes and somewhat kooky disposition.



Earlier this year, when the Oscars and the Globes and the SAGs waxed eloquent in their tributes to Heath Ledger - I could not help bristle a little at the outpouring of grief and the eulogies of a "life cut short cruelly". When Downey Jr was arrested (was he also jailed? cannot recall) for his drug use, he lost his much critically appreciated role in Ally Mcbeal (that a role in that series was critically acclaimed, says much about the actor!!). He was also if I recall, shunned by the film fraternity.



Yet, how was Heath Ledger any different? Maybe he did not have a chequered history with drugs, at least not one that was overtly publicised (post mortem there were revelations of drug use). Maybe playing Joker had splintered something within himself - and resulted in pushing the limits. Whatever. But fact of the matter is that he died of a drug overdose. Hundreds, if not thousands suffer the same fate around the world - nursing, also as each one would claim, some real or imaginary wounds to their soul. Heath Ledger is just one of these numbers, who died of the inability to control himself. While I sympathise with the family for the loss - it is no greater than the loss suffered by the thousands who lose their battle with drugs. There is no reason to glorify his death.



I applauded his performance as Joker. It was magnificent and disturbing. But, I was not one of the standing ovation his award received. I will reserve that for Robert Downey Jr - who has struggled with drug use, sought repeatedly to overcome it, seems to have returned from a career death to essay more enigmatic roles. Who will, I hope, give strength to the many to attempt to return from the edge; not to fall over the edge. Yes those chocolate brown eyes may have something to do with this bias. But I feel sometimes we tend to ignore the mundane, the gritty and patently un-sexy reality.

Of Buttons and Dogs

There was a time that we would make it a point to catch all the Oscar nominated movies and then deliver our verdict on which ones were Oscar-worthy. These days it has been tough even keeping track of which movies have been nominated for the Oscars. Nevertheless, we caught Benjamin Button last week. I must say I was a little disappointed - this movie actually made Forrest Gump seem like a classic movie. I liked the premise of the movie, however, I found Brad Pitt's performance monotonous. Some have described it as being nuanced - personally I preferred the nuanced performance of his ass in Troy.

But back to the premise - in today's world obssessed with looks, we bemoan the appearance of laugh lines and wrinkles- there is a false pursuit of eternal youthfulness. We sometimes wish we had the wisdom in youth to make certain decisions, or the youth to give shape and form to the epiphanies that age provides us. But what this story tells us that no matter where the beginning is at age 70 or age 0, life exorably moves towards the grave and what is vital is that we make the most of our time - as it is given to us. There was one part where the eponymous Button exhorts his daugther to have the courage to try to make something of her life if she had let it slip by her upto that point. For me that was the only point that had any meaning. Otherwise, the movie did very little for me.

I am looking forward to watching Slumdog Millionaire, will try and catch it next weekend when L is back. I am however intrigued by the rather contradictory reactions emanating from India - on the one hand embracing it and revelling in the awards it has received as if a film about India somehow automatically becomes Indian (yes the actors were Indian, but the film was conceptualised, produced and directed by Brits, so its a British film about India) and on the other hand criticising it for portraying India in a negative light. On the latter I have to reserve my comments as I have not watched the movie yet - except to say that I wonder if the people who are upset by this portrayal are the very people who lap up the Aditya Chopras and the Karan Johars portraying NRIs and goras as people devoid of values, uncouth, shamelessly pursuing money, unfilial etc - because really that would be a very accurate portrayal of such un-Indian people and they would really deserve it, no?!!! Well more on it when I have watched the film. But I caught the soundtrack - and the music is rivetting. I found the collaboration with MIA very interesting.

On Valentine's Day

Never been much of a Valentine's Day fan. I remember a Valentine's Day with L at the NIE canteen opposite our hostel. After the canteen fare, L bought himself a bar of chocolate and went on to polish it off, without even attempting to offer me a piece. Or maybe he did and I declined, I can't quite recall, but there were no chocolates for me that day, that I remember. But we have been married for over 12 years now, where we have shared much more than chocolates. I came across a notebook where, in the early years of our marriage, we had recorded our expenses; L's neat letters slanting forwards contrasted with my big cursive swirls that seemed to want to break out of those pages. There were entries for movies where we had written down the names of the movies we watched, the restaurants we had dinners at; cab fares and clothes bought have been recorded too. Regrettably, we did not write down the names of the wines we imbibed, for there was many an entry for wine.

While harking back to lazier times prior to the arrival of children and accompanying avalanche of responsibilities, it also served as a reminder to early days of marriage - where laying the foundation in terms of our values was crucial. It helped very much that there was convergence in our thinking with regard to money - we both eschewed flashy expenditure, but were happy to spend a little within our means to enjoy life. What that notebook did not record was perhaps the divergence between my raging ambition and L's infuriating sense of contentment. I wanted to study further and would have loved to go abroad to pursue a Master's degree. L would hear nothing about it, it made no sense to him to be married and apart. What is the point of being married then, was his frequent retort. I would see marriage as an intellectual communion as well as physical one, where partners should facilitate each other's growth as individuals - and my growth depended on a Masters degree from somewhere in New York. Hogwash! - was how L, always a practical man, dismissed my 'intellectual' discourses.

Well, fast forward 12 yrs and no I did not go to New York to get that Masters degree. But, over the years there has been a convergence in our values of what we want from our of life as well. I have learnt that living in the present can be calming and nurturing, and ultimately a better platform for one to leap into the future. I have learnt that being with a person who loves you and wants to be "in the same country, same house, same living room as you" (as once L rather plaintively declared as the reason why he married me) - can provide that emotional support to an individual's growth as much as cutting edge intellectual debate can. My life is fuller for this realisation.

Couple of months ago, an excited L called me from KL, where he is now based (ironically away from his family on account of work) to talk about a training session he had just attended. The facilitator had sought to break the self imposed barriers in peoples' minds, that has them falling short of achieving their dreams. L spoke with passion about the activities at that session and concluded that he was charged to achieve something in his life. While the what is still undefined, something has changed in the hitherto laid back personality - who asserts he would have gladly been a chauffeur driving other people's Benzes, had he not been pushed by his parents to get an education. It had ignited a spark within himself to reach beyond the limits of his life. It may be hubris, but perhaps there is something of my desire for achievement in life that has rubbed off on him.

We are poised now at a place where our outlook on what we want out of life seems to be veering towards convergence. Career-wise, I have made a decision, that could theoretically make it possible for us convert that into practicality by building a business together in a 3-5 yr horizon. I pray to God to give us both the strength, patience and perseverance to achieve that. For now, hopefully we can both remember to "Screen the past, Cream the present and Dream the future"

Happy Valentine's Day, L

And the debate continues

As a working mother of a 9 year old and a 5 year old, one would have imagined that I would have laid ghost of the 'working mother' vs 'stay at home mother' debate resolutely to rest. Well, actually, no, it still plagues conversations I have.

Here's summary of recent conversation at a birthday party.

Many of the conversations I had yesterday revolved round the perennial question women face on what is their place on earth. We recognise that family is of primary importance, yet it sometimes leaves us feeling that we then do not have any identity of our own. So we go through this futile exercise of going to work, finding no meaning there, staying at home, feeling uncertain about our identity - and overall frustrated. At the end of the continuum are the lucky women who are very sure of what they want to do - some are absolutely certain they want to work as that is the only qualification they will be satisfied with and there are the others who are very clear that home is where their calling is and nothing else will satisfy them. Most of us unfortunately fall in the middle and somehow feel trapped.

Yet, if you think about it - our generation is incredibly blessed. We had access to education. Our mothers in some instances and grandmothers certainly did not have that luxury. We are treated as equals in our marriages (well almost, I guess) - we do not face abusive relationships, we cannot even imagine how it would feel to be considered inferior and have our rights trampled upon as surely many women over the world do even today. Our children are healthy - our concerns are about the difference between band 1 and band 2 - not about finding food, medical aid or other amenities for our children. It is ironic that because we are so incredibly blessed we feel trapped by the options it offers us.

I think our cohort of women (ie educated, reasonably well off etc) should make it a mantra to tell ourselves that our life is about unending possibilities. The only limitations we place on ourselves emanate from our mind. We should ask ourselves searching questions on what would make us happy. We should help our friends to ask themselves these questions. The answers should not be coloured by any perceptions of society. We should not let our views on the matter colour our friends answers. Working women should not seek to justify their decision by commenting that women who choose to stay at home are wasting their education. Women who stay at home should not paint a working woman's life as money-chasing at the cost of family. Would it be that difficult to support a decision as one individual's decision?

We must recognise that trade offs will have to be made when we make our decisions one way or the other. We should then write down our decisions on a piece of paper - with the reasons why we believe we want to do it. And also what commitments we undertake to keep our balance - if your choice is to work, what is your commitment to your family. If your choice is to stay at home, what is your commitment to yourself. And give a copy to a good friend who understands you. And everytime we waver or feel trapped again, we should get this piece of paper out and tell ourselves this is why we did what we did. Periodically we should read this to say have we delivered on our commitment (of course if circumstances in life change and you are required to take a different decision, that would be different. So we must also have the maturity to be flexible). It should not matter whether there is a right thing to do - we should do what we feel is the right thing - without our decision of course causing harm to ourselves or our families.

I must suck the fun out of birthday parties. Next time I will only talk about SRK's dimples.

Hark to the past

This is my second attempt at blogging; my first attempt itself being a 152nd attempt at keeping a diary. Well, this is just what was noteworthy from the 3 posts of 2005.

Thursday, May 12, 2005

Random Thoughts on Friday the 13th
Today's newspaper carried an article on the film Dilwale Dulhaniya Le Jayenge (DDLJ) running 500 days, beating Sholay's record. It described how this 32 yr old Catholic girl had been inspired by the movie to elope and marry her Hindu boyfriend the day after watching the movie. The premise of the movie is typical- boy-meets-girl; after initial dislike they fall in love, parental opposition (on the girls side), girl getting engaged to someone else - run of the mill Bollywood. However - unlike in previous love-stories (QSQT) the hero refuses to elope when exhorted by the heroine's mother to do so. In typical filmi fashion - he claims he would win her father's approval and marry her with his blessings. This was also against the backdrop of the protagonists being NRIs - born and bred in UK. So the tale was about the resilience of "Indian" values, even against the lure of "western" ideas and upbringing. It is ironic then that this movie was identified as the inspiration for the elopement of the Catholic girl. Stoutly disproves my mother's theory of a direct corelation between Hindi cinema and the behaviour of youngsters - particularly in matters of the heart.

On Wednesday - I attended a lunch where the Pakistani PM, Shaukat Aziz spoke briefly on the changing face of Pakistan. First of all Shaukat Aziz was an impressive personality - tall, statuesque, he was an accomplished speaker. It was also amazing how he had transitioned from being a corporate leader to quite a political leader and a statesman. He had a good grasp of the the 'financials' of Pakistan and like any good Citibanker he reeled off the numbers - increase in number of mobile phone users, tonnage of wheat , number of automobiles. He conveyed some astute political messages too - when describing relations with neighbours he started from the West - Iran and Afghanistan were mentioned before India and then finally China. Plenty can be read into this : an association with Islamic neighbours where Pakistan could have a stronger position - vis-a-vis giants India and China on the east? You got the sense that he was painting the picture of a resurgent Pakistan that wanted to shed its past associations and looked to the wider world for partnership. This he reiterated when queried about promoting trade with India, when with a dismissive flick of his hand he said "As far as doing trade is concerned, the whole world is out there. Apart from the geographical consideration of reaching from point A to point B quicker, trade with India had no particular advantages for Pakistan."

Of course - it was a little disappointing that he reiterated the position that trade or economic co-operation would not take precedence over the political question of Kashmir.