Experiment

She is in the lab
Doing an experiment
For the first time
in her life.

She is confident
Yet, from time to time
she cross checks
With her Guru.

The powders measured
like gold, with utmost care,
since she fears
Even the minute variations
may affect the final outcome.

And it is ready !

The testing –
the tasting.

The verdict –

Aha! That’s my cup of tea!

[That was my daughter making her first cup of tea for her father, just now! 🙂]

Digital Parting

They smiled,
Hugged,
Danced,
Ate,
Cried
Shook hands
Bid good bye
All to the camera,
And for the camera!

The digital brains
Brimming with images, memories;
The real brains and hearts left to starve
Craving images, sounds, feelings, touches-
The neglected, wasted senses.

Who cares!
We are all busy
‘Acting out’ our lives.

Waiting: Story 2

Occasion: School assembly – World Environment Day .

Anchor: Coming up next, a group song by H and party!

Well, that would be a relief. We were intrigued too – environment day… song? Soon H and ‘party’ were on the stage – H in the middle and two girls each on her either side. H had on many previous occasions entertained us with both her solo and group performances. And it began –  another typical school group song. The main singer, H, started with a song that did justice to the topic of the day. Her open, bold voice was a sure entertainer. Thus it went on.

So far, so good.

But soon the song ceased to ‘entertain’. H was still singing, but ALL ALONE, yet to be joined and supported by the chorus. It was almost half way into the song, but there was no sign of it being a ‘group’ song. We could no longer pay attention to H’s song. The other four girls stood rooted, perplexed, like the audience who by now were impatiently waiting for the other four to open their mouths. After all why were they there? What was their role? Were they simply accompanying H? Or did they forget their lines? Did they suddenly give up their plan to sing? Was it some kind of a sweet revenge on H? Was it the ultimate WE Day prank?

Within minutes the group/solo identity-confused performance was over. They were courteous enough to thank the patient audience before leaving the stage. Mesmerized by the nature of the performance, even the grade one students (most sincere applauders) forgot to applaud.

*   *  *

I knew the answer would come my way, and it did, shortly afterwards. H and party dropped by with the explanation. Yes, it was actually supposed to be a group song. They had all learned the lyrics. But due to lack of time they could not get a rehearsal together. The poor chorus had no idea when to take out their lines. And thus it ended up a solo! We had a good laugh.

Ever since, the English teachers of the school are found to be using this example for the Third Conditional (Gr.):

If the girls had practised the song together they would have ……… 🙂 

In Love

Falling in love
So late!
Better late!

Was gravitation responsible
In any way?

It was there all along
Only that they ‘fell’ in it now.
They had been too rigid and smart
To ‘fall’ into that humble, heavenly pit.

Now, being more flexible,
The pit can hold them.
They have mellowed
Comfortably!

So what about their form,
Their identity?
Who cares!

For the time being
They are two jolly good fellows.
That’s all they know,
All they need!

Can’t let it go…

“Change can be good but it’s always tough to let go of the past”
― Emily Giffin, Love the One You’re With

“Renew, release, let go. Yesterday’s gone. There’s nothing you can do to bring it back. You can’t “should’ve” done something. You can only DO something. Renew yourself. Release that attachment. Today is a new day!”
― Steve Maraboli, Unapologetically You: Reflections on Life and the Human Experience

Time to thank the year for all its tests and lessons (not lessons and tests)!

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!

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…

Creativity

Have a look at these snaps from our Creativity Day 2012.

If there is a will there is a tree. There had been excruciating incidents (saved for another post) behind this artificially natural tree. Thank you dear teachers, for your determination which made the dead branch take ‘life’, finally!

Ozone layer. A simple, yet demonstrative exhibit from the science stall.

Our students are experts at Mehendi. Their dexterity will amaze you.

Best out of waste. One of my favourite pieces from the competition.

Origami! This was made by a grade 7 student within an hour’s time.

The student used about 150 paper cups to make this party light. Loved it!

Just that much for the time being. Looking forward to the holidays, to tell you more about the life here and to catch up with all the great posts I missed. Take care!

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.

And when they met again…

For years
They were one friendly flock
‘Of a feather’.

Then it was time to part –
Autographs, promises, tears,
Farewell, well fared.
And they flew away
In fifty diverse routes.

Years thence
They met again, virtually.
Longed to make it real.
Yearned to relive those days.
Planning, preparations…

Then the great day came,
Birds flocked again.

How tired and old each had grown!
Feeble smiles and hollow words
Couldn’t gloss over the chasms.

What went wrong?

They had outgrown their nest,
Moreover, they were no longer
Birds of a feather.

Time and experiences
Had painted them all different –
The dull ones with bright shades
And the bright ones with not-so-bright.
Each flaunted its hard-earned hues.
No wonder it turned irksome.

Disappointed, dispersed again,
This time, for good.