‘Self propelled flowers’

“Is it possible to become friends with a butterfly?”

“It is if you first become a part of nature. You suppress your presence as a human being, stay very still, and convince yourself that you are a tree or grass or a flower. It takes time, but once the butterfly lets its guard down, you can become friends quite naturally.”
― Haruki Murakami

“Butterflies are self propelled flowers. ”
― R.H. Heinlein

“A fallen blossom
returning to the bough, I thought –
But no, a butterfly.”
― Arakida Moritake

“You can only chase a butterfly for so long.”
― Jane Yolen

“I hate quotations. Tell me what you know.”
― Ralph Waldo Emerson

How heartless of him!

The Silent Bell

“The bell is not ringing!” This was a frequent complaint during the last two days from the annoyed teachers.

To understand the extent of the problem you need to be a teacher. In a school the absence of bell means a standstill. This is how one teacher reported, “I came prepared for the 40 min class, but even after completing it, together with some activities I concocted just now, it’s not getting over. 40 minutes,  this long? What’s going on?” I looked at the clock and sensed trouble. The bell!

The fed up teachers longed to flee the thoroughly enlightened class; the bored students awaited the next teacher for a different kind of replenishment.

Who was responsible? Who had been ringing the bell all these days? Kaka, a hapless victim of the new laws, used to do it. The bell had been punctual all these years and we never noticed the presence, the effort of a human being behind it. We took his service for granted. Now the person has left, leaving the bell dumb and the whole schedule upset.

*       *      *

The attendant is reminded once again, the bell goes and the each one heaves a sigh of relief.

The situation rings a bell and I recall O. Henry’s The Pendulum:

 Nobody heard the click and rattle of the cog-wheels as the third-floor front of the Frogmore flats buzzed its machinery back into the Order of Things. A band slipped, a spring was touched, the gear was adjusted and the wheels revolve in their old orbit.

I reflect: We miss you Kaka. Grateful to you. May God keep you safe, wherever you are!

[Thank you, Julia, for the inspiration!]

Happy Birthday, Papa!

“Bindu!!!!” Papa’s calling! What went wrong this time? I shuddered each time the furious call rang through the length of our house (such an elongate house indeed). I was not a very naughty child but still there would always be something to rile the precisionist. I had never had the nerve to face up his wrath. (I’ll meet the raging of the skies, But not an angry father.”—Lord Ullin’s Daughter)

That was long, long ago. ‘Time eases all things’. Now he is no longer the Papa I was used to.

Papa and me

Tomorrow he turns 78. Wasn’t it just yesterday that the whole family came together to celebrate his 50^th birthday?

Apart from the scary image of an austere father, he possesses a lot of rare qualities I admire – systematic, organised, punctual, and perfect!

At the remotest corners of my memory are two scenes – the way he sharpened our pencils with his special little chisel and covered our books during our school days. It was such a pleasure to watch him meticulously perform those tasks. Now when I sit with the books of my kids or when I seek a knife to sharpen their pencils I find myself mimicking my father.

I used to boast to my friends about my father’s artistic skills. Carpentry being his hobby much of the furniture in the house was his creation. The duties of an accountant never prevented him from pursuing his passion. His workshop housed a perfect collection of tools, machinery and knickknacks, enough to make any professional carpenter green with envy.

The workshop was (it is still there intact) such an amusing place walled with shelves of compact racks. The place contained a world. You name it, you find it. The restricted place which suggested TRESPASSERS WILL BE PROSECUTED held enough magic for the curiosity cat in me. The minute the ‘Giant’ stepped out of the house the workshop would be all mine, to explore. In spite of the intricacy of the place it was never difficult to locate an item because they were all neatly labelled and arranged. I was pretty well acquainted with the place. But he was shrewd enough to smell the intrusion had a single item been misplaced. Needless to say I was very cautious and mindful whenever I encroached.

He has been a hoarder too. Coming from a house without a sq. cm. of free space I have made up my mind not to be a pack rat. I do collect, but I can get enough nerve up to throw them out too (instead of letting them gather dust), when they start cramming my tiny home. Space is freedom, comfort, relief – I now realize.

He taught himself a lot of skills. That inspired me to pick up a few skills myself. I always tried to learn something he was not so good at – say, drawing, stitching, versification etc. leaving no scope for the critic in him. Rarely did he commend our skills. That’s why when he chose me to press his clothes (after he stopped giving them at the dry cleaner’s) I considered it a token of appreciation from him. Each time it was a test and the smile on his face was my trophy. (On a lighter note: After I left for my higher studies I once asked him who did the job for him. He retorted, ‘As the pennu (maid) who used to do it has left, I have to do it myself these days.’)

Above all he is a wonderful narrator. Even a trivial incident would be woven into a fabulous story with a dramatic introduction, suspense and climax. He knows how to hold his listeners with the spell of story-telling.

Thank you Papa, for what you have taught me to be and not to be.I feel proud when Mummy says ‘she takes after Papa’. I am imperfect in my own ways. And as I grow older I realize we are more or less the replicas of our parents. Let it be so. It’s all in our genes.

HAPPY BIRTHDAY! Wish you peace, health and strength!

My village

Simplify, Simplify

Simplicity is not leading a very simple life with bountiful wealth and luxury that one can lay hands on, but building no desire to have surplus resources in spite of living in abject penury situations.

Anuj Somany quotes 

“Manifest plainness,
Embrace simplicity,
Reduce selfishness,
Have few desires.”
― Lao Tzu

“Our life is frittered away by detail. Simplify, simplify.”
― Henry David Thoreau, Walden and Other Writings

Actions and Intentions

“We judge others by their behavior. We judge ourselves by our intentions.” -Ian Percy

Sorry for that space pollution. Actually I am yelling it out to myself. Did you hear that too? Then join me for the ‘aftershocks’.

How we wish others tried to understand our intentions before they judged our actions! However, being an imperfect human, I am not always able fathom the intentions of those whose actions offend me. Selfishness? Or is it impracticality? I don’t know.

My actions have often been misinterpreted because of my nature. Things were straightened out whenever I got the chance to explain them, but life is not always that fair and straightforward. So, I now and then I enter the foe-list of other people, the latest entry being made last week.

No grudges. It’s nobody fault. As part of my Mission Positive Thinking I am trying to analyze the problem.

Introverts are cursed with misunderstandings. I, being one, am no exemption. One fine morning it is impossible to undergo some metamorphosis and move around sporting the new label of an extrovert. After all I have always been rather comfortable with my existing tag. Still I am greedy for a bit more comfort. But how? Hmmm….

Given below are a few Utopian suggestions:

• Announce my intentions to the world before doing or saying something.
• Include a comment box for my words and deeds so that I will be alarmed whenever someone gets me wrong.

Rubbish! (Ooops! I let it slip. Let it be. Once in a while everything is okay.)  :)

Well, what can I do?

Stop judging, because…

“You never really understand a person until you consider things from his point of view… Until you climb inside of his skin and walk around in it.”
― Harper Lee, To Kill a Mockingbird

This will be of some extra help: Before acting I must remember that…

“You are (I am) responsible for your (my) actions, not for your (my) intentions.” –  Paulo Coelho

Will it really help? Let me try, and then wait and see.

Eureka!

Finally it struck me. Of late I have been looking frequently into my inner self trying to recognize the real me. And the glad news is that I am gradually coming to  terms with myself.

So what had been happening all these years? I hear people  say childhood was amazing. Really? Superficially there were a lot of interesting episodes during my childhood too, but within, I was perplexed. A lost soul.

My worries almost pricked me to death. I mercilessly tortured myself. The words of advice had no effect because all along I successfully pretended to believe them.

And what  is the latest development? I really understand them. My mind has learnt its lessons and is docile. My alarms go off when my thoughts go astray. I am the master of my feelings and I know how to tame them. Isn’t that the real inner peace?

It’s good to be a grown up. While young I had the feeling that I would be dead and gone before I hit 30. I know why He waited. Now I am ready – do You hear me?

Ah, now when I look out at the world outside all I see is tranquility. My inner embers have started glowing and they act as my beacon in this turbulent sea of life. I am happy and peaceful at this moment. Even if you throw out that dish in the kitchen which took me an hour to prepare, I will not be provoked (but merely kill you with my smile).

Isn’t that real peace? It’s great to be alive!

Peace be with you and me!

First-borns – Guinea Pigs?

Yesterday my first-born turned ten. And we (claim to have) successfully completed ten years of parenthood.

Has she been lucky or unlucky? In my opinion, for her it has been a combination of both.

How is she lucky? Usually the elder ones are the centres of attraction; they get all (or too much?) the attention from the parents and from the relatives too, if they are the first ones in a generation. They enjoy a lot of privileges – too many toys, dresses and other accessories. In fact it was we who were celebrating our new designations as papa and mama! Every achievement or turning point in the eldest ones’ lives is exaggerated and celebrated with all the pomp and vigour.

When it comes to the second one, the excitement would be slightly less. The parents have already been there and for them it is merely a repetition of the first episode. But sadly they are too busy to remember it’s the very first time for each of the younger ones. Being the second-born I have been through it all. (Eldest ones out there, I can read your thoughts.)

And there are a lot of health benefits too. They will be made of healthier and better components of life. The later ones are born to older and more tired parents.

[The given link will enlighten you more on the topic of birth order.]

But here I am more bothered about the seamy side of the first-borns’ lives. For the naive parents it is a time to experiment upon a hundred new things, certainly out of their love and eagerness. I must admit that bringing up my big girl I have committed a lot of parenting errors, mainly in the two crucial areas – health and education.

As tyros in that new phase of life we were naturally over-concerned about each and every aspect, especially her health. We surmised that every sneeze, cough or runny nose would end up in pneumonia, and rushed to the doctor who was only too eager to administer heavy doses of antibiotics. The recurrence of the ailments taught us some valuable lessons equipping us better for the second one. It made me bold and taught me how to resist temptation to grab the medicines each time.

And the second most fatal mistake I committed was the over-enthusiasm about her studies. When she got confused with P, b, d and 9, or when she flipped over certain letters, (at the age of three!) we often freaked out as if she was going to be doomed. When she could not discern the basic differences between numbers and letters, faltering at the questions like “Which is bigger – 2 or 7?” we seemed to be anxious about the Board after ‘12’ years!!  While we were passionately carrying out our duties, for her it must have been hell!

After her last PT meet (grade 5) as I was proudly looking at the 100% score in her Maths paper, I once again realized the benefits of intruding less and leaving everything to her. It was the fruit of her own hard work.

At times my younger one has to be satisfied with the used toys and dresses. However she enjoys a happier and more carefree childhood – only because her parents’ attention is divided and she has an elder sister who was already ‘guinea pig’ged!

Happy birthday dear! Thank you for all the great lessons you taught me in a decade’s time…

Fancy tickled

Words rarely do justice to the ‘spontaneous overflow of my emotions’. Yet, just an attempt to string the desultory thoughts.

It was stirred up a few days ago, by some delicate pictures and verse. Thank you, Usha, Shail, and my dear sister!

And it was taken to its peak by a film on TV. The familiar songs of that film had never evoked much interest in me. Prejudiced, I had written it off as trite. When I started watching, it was already halfway through and so couldn’t even get the storyline.

It was the dampness depicted that tranced me out. You will be wondering how a film, that too on the mini screen, can do that. Well, as the saying goes, it’s all in our head. The film may not appeal with the same intensity to the aesthetic sense of another viewer. It simply jibed well with my mood, that’s all.

 

The dark green foliage, the shades, the serenity, the sounds, the smell of the soil, the wetness of the forest… It all came trickling down to my soul, through something beyond my normal senses.

 Where am I? In the sweltering desert or in the middle of some remote rainforest? I couldn’t discern. I couldn’t control the urge to open the window, anticipating the raging clouds, the shroud of darkness, and the rustle or the rumble of the distant rain. The repulsive sun made me retreat to the forced coolness of the room.

My daughter once told me there is a special smell all about my parents’ house. (My husband and kids had been to that place only during the monsoons when the whole place will be soggy and cold.) While young I loathed the dankness for the creatures that crawled and crept in, seeking refuge, though snuggling under the covers, tuned in to the pitter-patter on the roof, ah, was bliss! (How I treated myself to the abreaction of that experience elaborating on Nissim Ezekiel’s Night of the Scorpion!  Much of it might have gone over the heads of my hapless students born and brought up here.) I used to yearn for the dry summers. Now that very same Dryness has got back at me!

Grateful to you film maker, cinematographer and the one who chose the location, for that treat!

Nine more months to go!

Nine looong months in between me and the heavenly showers…

On winning cash

Will a cash prize make one happy?

Many think it will. I too did, but I have now switched sides.

Wealth is not his that has it, but his that enjoys it.
Benjamin Franklin

The philosophy that wealth does not necessarily mean or bring in happiness seemed inane, until this simple incident took place quite recently in our life.

We won a cash prize in a contest – though not a jackpot, an amount more than my monthly salary. It was surprise money that came along as a blessing during the back-to-school season, a time when our pockets are almost reduced to sieves. I was supposed to be happy. Instead, after the initial spark of excitement, it made me unsettled.

It’s good to have money and the things that money can buy, but it’s good, too, to check up once in a while and make sure that you haven’t lost the things that money can’t buy.
George Lorimer

I am not at all greedy. For me there is nothing more detestable than owing money to someone, and never have I tried to amass money compromising on my valuable time and health, in spite of the myriad opportunities.

But this took us unawares. After we were informally informed about the contest results, we had to wait for about a month to finally receive the cheque. All the time I constantly suspected it to be a prank, because I had never believed in cash prizes! No wonder I never participated in the contests too. Here, the initiative was taken by my daughter who, unlike me, is optimistic and has faith. Let her never lose that trait!

Meanwhile, we couldn’t resist counting the chickens. It was vacation time and we did a bit of shopping – only some necessary and affordable household items. (I have made up my mind  to keep mum on the disputes that cropped up on what to buy.) However, to be frank, they were not our priorities and we would have got by without them for another few months, had it not been for this anticipated amount.

Instead of delighting me, the sight of the newly purchased items ruffled me!

I tried to soothe myself thinking: Why are you so tensed about the money? You were not expecting this amount. It is not the money you have lent someone. You can survive even without this. So take it when or if it comes. Or better forget all about it.

At last the dream materialised. I tried to decipher my feelings when I got hold of the cheque – utter indifference! The unpleasant scenes we have been through had put out all the fizz.

I could feel my thoughts undergoing yet another distasteful transformation: After all it is just a month’s salary. It may help us cover up the deficits in the family budget this month – just this month. There are no more contests coming up next month. Even if there is one, chances will be pretty slim.

Had the prize sown seeds of avarice in me? I should never let that happen.

Another worry:  The victory was a fluke, not the fruit of our toil. Is this a bad omen to some imminent crisis in our life?

The nice part about being a pessimist is that you are constantly being either proven right or pleasantly surprised.
George Will

I don’t mind getting an incentive bonus or a better placement. Just let me regularly get what I am normally entitled to. That’s my prayer.

The cheque is still lying there in the drawer. No one really seems to be eager to encash it. Well, we shall wait for another week. Anyway it is now all ours. As if it had been ours all the time.

Humans!!

Have you ever won a cash prize? If yes, do share with me how you felt.