"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)
Tuesday, December 15, 2009
Sunday, December 6, 2009
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.
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.
Monday, November 9, 2009
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?"
"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?"
Tuesday, September 8, 2009
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.
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.
Saturday, September 5, 2009
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.
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.
Monday, March 30, 2009
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!
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!
Sunday, March 1, 2009
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.
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.
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