Gyaan!

Some body somewhere insulted God, via some random Facebook page. Another bunch of random people, reacted. Some got defensive about Him, and tried to clear his name and explain his actions. Some defended the defender. Some went off and started a different rant. Yet another group took it personally and started a hysterical family drama!

Why?  For what joy?

God is supreme. He can defend himself. I am sure he knew what he was doing, and why he was doing what he was doing! Hell – Even I say what I did ten years ago, I did to the best of my knowledge. I don’t believe in hindsights and looking back. I did what I thought was right at that moment of time.

If I slapped my kid, I thought he deserved it. I have no regrets now! I am sure God too feels the same way! Leave him alone, to his devices. I am sure he will be fine!

“Not my monkey, Not my circus!” Well said, whoever said it. Live and let live.

If it’s not our issue, why go all big time “principally” over it? Leave it be.

Just because some one calls us a fool, we don’t become one! If calling names helped – I would call myself a classical singer, an amazing chef and a great personality!

Gah!

We all have a circle of solitude in us. If we make that a peaceful place to be in, its a wonderful space to exist. Not traumatised by the world and it’s meaningful vengeance against the world and it’s loose mouthed people!

I say, take 10 calm breaths, each to the count of 10. Then say what you have to say. Mostly I loose my patience and just walk off!

I’ve heard a story of an ancestor, who had an ungodly number of children. She wanted to whack some number of them at most times of the day. She would tell them, “Just you wait, I am going to give you a solid one on your bum! Just let me push all my bangles up. They will get in the way!” She got a breather while doing it, and had the time to think about her actions. But most importantly the kid got the message and backed off!!

I never knew her, but I really liked this lady!

Breathe, meditate, let go!!

Nothing can bother you, nothing should bother you!

 

Advertisements

For the progeny, nieces and nephews!

I recently heard a tale of horror.

A family goes to a beach resort. Their 21 years old boy, decides to go out with some friends. When he doesn’t arrive on time the father calls, and a friend picks up. Says he is asleep, not to worry he will come in on time for the flight back home. Come morning, again a friend picks up and says he is a bit unwell, will take the next flight home. The father leaves for hometown. Lands, calls once again and friend says, “ Sorry uncle, your son is dead!!”

Overdose? I don’t know!

Every body has a different physical and internal structure. The same dose, which relaxes your friend, could be lethal for you!

When I heard this I was shocked. But soon got over it and went to bed. The story shot through my head once more and I got up panicking. My kids were 24 hours away. Alone. Left to their own devices – with pot and molly taking acquaintances all around them.

My niece and nephew are at a vulnerable phase of life. The younger ones, are too cute for their own good!

I wanted to immediately, wrap them all up in cotton wool. Then – in a layer of bubble paper. And finally corset them in a blanket and dump them in my largest closet.

I want to keep them safe. Hidden and away from the forbidden.

Distanced from trauma. Safe from harm.

I don’t want their hearts breaking, or their legs for that matter.

I would like them cocooned and nestled, in a comforting loving atmosphere.

Fear should never touch them.

 

But that’s not possible. And that’s not what I really want!

I want broken legs and hearts. I want thorns in their feet and thorns by their side when they get out of the protective shadows of their parents. They need fears and scares. They need to be tempted and learn to resist it. They need to go hungry once in a while. They need to live.

They have to face life. With all it’s little jagged ends.

Fear should produce fight and not flight.

Sweat will build their personality, and scars – character.

Heartbreaks will make them softer and choosier.

Hunger will teach them to be frugal. It might even teach them to cook !!

Overcoming trauma will help strengthen them.

A broken leg will teach my babies a lesson.

Failures will beget success and arrogance will beget failure.

Pride will come before fall, and happiness after sadness.

Some temptations will be yielded to, while some will be rejected. Each choice will teach them something.

And while they go through their turmoil and triumphs, they need to know they have parents (and uncles and aunts) who will hold their hands as well as cheer for them.

 

 

 

 

Skill Sets.

I have recently taken up food photography. I read about it. Studied it. I admit to being a bookworm.

The first time I picked up this badly designed instrument from hell, I was looking at it like it’s the inside of blue blooded alien with lemons as eyes. I was turning it around, looking at it and looking like a fool. Had anyone clicked a picture (irony!!) I would have been mistaken as a returnee from the loony bin! I mean, why does a small focal point have a big number? Why play around with the universe? It can strike you down, you know?

So I’m still learning, still struggling and still wondering why tongue – twisting words like shutter speed (say it fast – see what happens!) exist.

I’m on my – so to speak – bucket list. Last year and the year before that I took up DJing (I’ll look up the dictionary. I’m sure it’s a real word). I was the only “aunty” in the group. Till such time I threatened to wash their mouths with Dettol. Then they started calling me Appu. It’s a cool thing I’m doing right? So lets be cool –Call me Appu.

So Appu started learning how to DJ. The kids in my group, picked up really fast. They knew the music, they knew the beats and their young ears accurately picked up the tempo. I only picked up the lingo.

But since it was a childhood dream, I learnt it, through hard work and, a lot of cheating. Let me tell you – I am in love with the person who came up with a digital software for music. It makes all those nuances I missed out, very easy to follow. Now I wow my friends and make a “cool” parent.

I still cheat.

Next I want to take up drumming. This time I am sure I will be the only female in the group. I can just imagine the scene. Ten men, all ducking and running for cover because I tried whirling the drumsticks and its now flying all over the place, threatening to lodge itself into someone’s eye.

I should have studied all this when I was younger. Skills learnt at a younger age is something learnt forever. The photography would be as automatic as brushing my teeth,(though my dentist says I don’t do a good job there), and Djing would feel as comfortable as the commode I pee in. I would have been alternating my happening party nights drumming and playing gigs on the DJ console.

All ye kids, kind enough read my blog, go out there and learn a set of skills a year. Trust me – especially the complicated stuff like cameras. It’s easier for you to believe in an alternate universe.

 

 

Rites of passage.

From that tiny fetus swimming and kicking in my stomach to the time I held a hungry, squirmy yelling kid in my arms, to now, when he leaves our home and flies the nest, we as parents have come a long way. The rites of passage have been happy, sad and sometimes heart breaking. This kid, our last one in particular has given us a few heart attacks, but many many more happy times. And to think we had him in the most unplanned and disorderly fashion, in the midst of life changing decisions the family was making.

The day he cut his first tooth was a delight. We were as it is struggling with feeding, with me wanting to feed him for a few more months and he struggling to break out and venture into the world of chewing and masticating. This fellow with his puppy fat and soft skin, whom I forever kept in diapers only, so that I could cuddle him any time I felt like, started school. The sight of him in a brand new uniform – Had I known then, that it would lead to this day, I would perhaps have kept him home. But again life has to spin and move.

Days of fever, heart breaks and happier days of winning matches, being chosen to lead the school in games, friends leaving, new friends, voice cracking, girl friends and girl friend issues, studies, SAT’s, Essays and now here we are.

It’s time for the kid to leave. I’ve already sent off the first one. It was heart breaking enough. We know in our hearts that this is their step into the real world. They might never come back home. Their rooms will remain empty for months on end and one day we shall hear that they might not occupy that room again. We don’t know, we think, but it’s a damn close possibility.

But whatever the future holds, what ever their lives lead them to do, we parents have years of spit, poop, pee, gurgles, laughter, love and hugs to hold us together for the rest of our lives.

 

 

Have you been hugged lately?

Have you been hugged lately? It’s a wonderful feeling.

Get one today!
Get one today!

I am new to hugs. I would give a half – hearted one and let the person go, till one day my daughter’s new friend, met me for the first time. She immediately got up and gave me one of the tightest – I wont let you go soon- kind of hug. I was surprised and I admit it took me a few moments to reach out and hug her back. I also admit that I was a bit taken aback and thought it was a bit much, but when I left the room and went into my own, I remember feeling this fuzzy warm feeling, like I have never felt before. It was a I ask for nothing back – hug.

I have always hugged and cuddled the kids. And it has held me in good stead, because even now at the threshold of adulthood, they are still easy to hug, and now I need it more than them.

I have a cousin. He always hugs as a greeting. A nice warm, huge hug, accompanied by, a hearty laugh. His eyes light up, his never- been – cut moustache curls into his cheeks and, we all get left feeling so very special.

So often when I am at a loss for words, I just give a hug. What can oft repeated words convey that a hug cannot?

photo 2

So all you mommies, daddies, husbands, sisters (Mine is awesone! She hugs and kisses,) please go out there and hug your loved ones. Life is too short. It’s a matter of one second to let go of your inhibition. And the returns are unbelievable.

Maybe one day you will convert a non-hugger like those kids converted me!

photo 1 (1)

photo 2

PS: Try hugging a dog. It’s even better!

My kids and other animals.

Many years ago we lived in a small cottage. My family on the ground floor, and a big fat snooty woman, her arrogant husband and their nice children, on the 1st floor. Opposite building had, assorted kids of assorted ages and dispositions. A mad gardener who had pyromania, a piano teacher, assorted movie personalities, and a few undescribable human beings.

I wanted my kids to learn some of the same elements of wildness, that I had, and, which had turned clumps of my mother’s hair startling white. So the kids raced around barefoot and ate with dirty hands, climbed trees, cycled at dangerous speeds, rummaged in the overgrown garden and of course lived with assorted animals.

We had one dog, and another walked in our garden leaving his siblings with their mother. He was all furry and cute and was promptly adopted. The lady upstairs had cats – lots of them. They slunk around all over the place, hissed at my dogs and drove them batty. So much so that when my daughter went up to play with her kids, one of my dogs kept guard, giving her warning barks- telling her not to get too friendly with the cats. We kept fish, but they ate each other up. Many other dogs ran amok in the compound and my dogs would take off randomly, to the beach. We had direct access to the beach, which was also an invitation for more wild dogs.

One day the kids ran in, highly excited. There was a gaggle of them kids. (I felt so proud looking at my dirty haired, filthy nailed, muddy faced kids..!!) In her tiny hands, my daughter had a small baby parrot, looking all disoriented and bewildered. We immediately fashioned a large basket, tied up at four ends, looped up the rope and hung it high on our, open-to-sky balcony. We were reluctant to close the bird in a cage. It was a fledgling, could barely fly, and we all feel in love.

Nippy (for he loved to nip at my gold earrings) soon grew, as did the blood lust of my younger dog, Teddy.  When we realised he could fly, but could not stay up for too long, we had to put him in a cage.

For flying practice, Nippy was taken to our closed living room and left to experiment. He would flutter, rise to the ceiling, try to sit on the fan (switched off obviously) and then land on my shoulder, climb up my neck and nip my earrings. We were both in love with each other.

Soon Nippy was desperate to fly all the time. We all wanted Nippy to be one with the wild, and so we started leaving the cage door open. Until one day I saw something, which had my heart beating in my mouth, and my knees as weak as a limp cucumber. Nippy would step out of his cage and stand on the door, giving the skies a good, once over. Teddy would place himself strategically right under the door of his cage. He would smack his lips and then hang his jaw open.  Just hoping that the bird would fall into it. At this point Teddy made direct eye contact with the bird. Open mouthed and slack jawed I moved closer and saw the little bird’s heart beating wildly in panic. His little beasts were moving as rapidly as a flag in high winds. I promptly shooed the dog away to the other side of the house and had him kept with the watchman. I had nightmares of waking up one day, and seeing small birdy feathers and a few bones on my balcony, and Teddy sitting in a corner and looking like – well like – a dog, who has swallowed a bird.

Teddy - at age 13. Connoisseur of birds and rats.
Teddy – at age 13. Connoisseur of birds and rats.

One day Nippy was gone. I admit I looked hard at Teddy, opened his jaw and checked, and all that, but apparently, Nippy had flown his (makeshift) nest! Teddy was bereft for days.

We have since shifted, kids have grown, so have the dogs, but I still look for Nippy across the skies when I hear parrots every morning. Teddy of course had plenty of wild dreams, when he would smack his lips and paw the air, thinking he had killed that damn unreachable bird.

The gaggle of them kids, have grown. Some become film heroines, some doctors, and my kids still have fond memories of those wild days.