Yet another B'day

Celebrated yet another B’day on 5 April. As a kid I was unhappy about the fact that my B’day always came during the summer holidays and I never got to wear color dress and distribute sweets to my classmates. And finally when I went to senior classes, my B’day was always during my exams!

Once we wanted to know the exact time of my birth for my horoscope, which is considered an absolute necessity for all arranged marriages in Kerala. My mother said that my late father had written the time in his diary (He passed away a few months before my wedding). So we searched the huge pile of old diaries, which my father had meticulously kept. In the 22 year old yellowing diary’s page for 5 April, my father had written, “Harsha was born at 5.15pm and I became a father”. It’s so hard to imagine him as a 27 year old new father. My mother said that the names were ready even before I was born. I was to be Harsha or Preett.

My father would always narrate this story on almost every B’day. I was born in my mother’s ancestral home in Kerala. It was a new moon day, which is considered inauspicious. My father was at work when he heard the news and rushed home. When he reached my mother’s house, he met my grandfather at the gate. Without much enthusiasm, he said, “It’s a girl”. My father did not have a permanent job at that time and my grandfather might have thought that a girl baby was not the best thing to happen under those circumstances.

That was not all – my father overheard some woman say that the baby may not survive. She said, “Poor Chandran (my father), if only he gets to bring her up”. He was really upset. But he said he was confident that I was healthy. He said, “Your cries nearly shook the roof, and that meant you were healthy, but a little too small”. Usually babies stay with their mother, but my father ensured that I was always with him whenever he was around. His concern for my health resulted in my becoming a little too chubby by around 4 months, which I supposedly maintained for around 7-8 years.

Instead of my father telling this story, I narrate this to my kids on my B’day. Now, at the brink of 40 (just turned 39), it feels nice to look back and go back in time.

The grand mom I never met

I have never met my father’s parents. His father died when I was 6 months old (I am the only grandchild he ever saw) and his mother died young. We have a black and white photo of my grandparents at home and she was a beautiful and stylish lady considering that she might have died in the late 1950s. In the photo you see here, she is wearing a velvet blouse, which was fashionable those days - so my father told me. She was not just a photo on the wall for us. She was ‘Achamma’ and we knew her so well through this photo and a lot of stories told by my father. There was this photo of my father as a two year old wearing a top knitted by his mother. He would always say that she was very creative.

I have never seen my father talking about his mother without his eyes becoming moist. He lost her when he was perhaps still in school. I cannot really imagine how it might have been for him. She died in child birth. My father was fast asleep at home when this happened. In his sleep he dreamt of his mother. She was calling him. She said, “Mone (son), I have made Neyyappam (a sweet made of rice flour and jaggery) for you. Wake up now”. He woke up from his sleep only to hear his uncles, his mother’s brothers, whispering, “How are we going to tell this to the boy?” They didn’t have to; he knew the worst had happened. The baby was still born and she too drifted off soon, sadly for my father, his three younger brothers and three sisters, the eldest barely 13.

Many people who knew her have told me that she was very beautiful. I greedily ask a lot of questions about her to people who had the chance to know her. I still do, but now I have more questions to ask. My father died when I was 22 and never had the chance to know my husband or kids. I now ask, “How was my father when he was little?” I asked this question to an elderly ayah, who was with my father’s family. She had also stayed in my house for a month to help me take care of my new born daughter. While bathing my daughter, she would remember some incidents involving my father. She told me he was very naughty.

Now my kids have a lot of questions for me about their Appuppan (maternal grandfather). Memories are real treasures we pass on to the future generations…

Rinky was the cutest pup!

“You know Amma, Rinky was the cutest pup”, my daughter broke her silence. We lay in her bed, remembering the stray pup who died in his sleep that evening in his favorite place—beneath our car.

Rinky’s mom was a stunner. She was black and lean and stood out among other stray dogs in the locality. This was her second litter. All the three pups in her first litter had died. These pups were born in an isolated outhouse in the residential layout. In the brood of seven, only two were black like the mom. The rest were in varying mix of brown and white. “You know Amma, their dad is that brown and white dog. You must have seen him”. I hadn’t, but thought she must be right.

As they grew older, some of them got more adventurous and ventured out to explore. Kids loved the pups. My daughter was inconsolable when one of them died under the Corporation's van. Soon the pups grew in size and became really chubby and adorable.

We warned the kids against playing with the stray pups, which they often ignored. I am not exactly that fond of dogs, and prefer to admire them from a distance and detested when the pups followed us in our post dinner walks. It was like they had adopted us rather than the other way around.

Soon their number was reduced to three—Rinky and Pinky, both brown, and Musky, who was black. They always slept under our car. When I woke up in the morning, I usually found them sleeping, all curled up. I loved that scene. They always ignored my protests and made it a point to run around me or jump at me as though they sensed my uneasiness. My daughter would say, “It’s only a puppy, why are you so scared?” These pups made friends with our neighbor’s ferocious Great Dane. We were worried that he might kill them, but they got along so well.

Two days back, we noticed that Rinky was not eating anything. His neck was swollen and he looked like he would die soon. He didn’t suffer much, he died the next day. I never thought I would ever miss a dog, especially some stray dog, but Rinky will be missed very much!

Growing vegetables in containers

I guess everyone should experience the pure pleasure of seeing tiny seedlings emerging from the soil. But I should warn you, its addictive!

We do not have enough space for outdoor gardening, so my garden is limited to the terrace or balcony. I read on the Internet about the best practices to grow vegetables in containers and bottles we throw away. Actually almost everything came from waste. In the below image, you can see my mint plant growing in a used Coca Cola bottle!

I used kitchen waste for fertilizer and used sand and this waste to fill the pots. I also filled a large bucket with water and leaves, both dry and green we collected from around. These decayed leaves were also used as fertilizer. After a month this mix started smelling like cow dung! I diluted this to use for the plants.

In the images below you can see yard long beans and the beautiful white flowers of snake gourd. The best part of my gardening efforts was getting the kids interested. As soon as I return from office, they would say, "Come, let's water the plants!" They would tell me if anything notable happened. My son would say, "The cucumber has a new female flower, shall we hand fertilize it?" We did all that and also spent a lot of time, removing bugs and those tiny creatures troubling the plants.

This year, the harsh summer was so unkind to my plants, but many of them thrived. I am experimenting with grapes too. I managed to grow them from seeds. Here's a seedling below. Ladies finger seedlings are also doing well.

It's a wonderful learning experience. And I have really learned a lot from my experience. I am sure I will do a better job next time around.

When teachers settle their scores

What if a teacher tries to settle scores with his helpless students? I am sure almost all of us have been punished by our teachers at least once during our school years. But a teacher settling scores is a totally different and shameful issue.

My experience does not actually involve me directly, but that does not make it any different. It’s about how my younger brother and his friend were thrashed mercilessly by their chemistry teacher when they were 12 year-olds. The teacher, who must have been in his early thirties entered their class and wrote chemistry equations on the board and asked one of them to solve it. Fortunately for him, the boys were weak in studies and he was sure that they were incapable of balancing the equations. Then he called the other boy to solve it. As he had foreseen, both of them were unable to solve the equation. He dragged the two boys outside the class so that everyone from other classes too could view his ‘performance’. He started thrashing the boys mercilessly in full view of other classes and when one of them fell, he kicked him. Later we came to know that he had told other teacher friends of his plans. One of them confessed to my father later.

His friend, a physics teacher, an old student himself, was taking class in eleventh standard. He stopped the class and told the students that there will be some fun in 9A and stood near the door to watch the “show”. When the period was over, the group of teachers comprising a young biology teacher and an English teacher went to see the bleeding and swollen legs of the boys and passed comments. Almost all the senior teachers pressurized my father, a teacher in the same school, to register a complaint. However, he refused saying that teachers have the right to punish their students.

It was only later that we came to know about the actual reason for the circus. The newly married teacher’s wife reportedly received a letter describing her husband’s colorful past. The teacher, for some reason thought it was these boys who did this and checked their notebooks for their handwriting and made plans to punish them for this. Later the real culprit was caught from his friends' circle itself. The actual culprit had taken his wife’s help in composing the anonymous letter. So this was a well planned affair, not a teacher’s reaction out of righteous anger. This was not an isolated incident. This teacher has beaten up these boys several times with vengeance for reasons such as "bad handwriting". They were beaten and humiliated in class for many days. This was pure scheming and revenge on helpless boys. I would have forgiven him had he questioned the boys upfront and then punished them if they were proven guilty.

When we were kids our parents and teachers didn’t believe in sparing the rod and spoiling us. I have myself got beatings from many teachers including my father. Being the naughty kid that I was, I had many bluish finger marks on my cheeks for proof. But I think my brother would have got the most number of beatings from my father. But then we know that our parents and teachers did care. There were many teachers who were apparently very sweet, but turned out to be the opposite. It is not the physical act of beating that hurts, but the feeling that we were wronged.

I have not met this Chemistry teacher after leaving the school. Wherever he is, he is still hated very much.

Why ‘inlaws & ‘outlaws’

In laws are a hated lot. Ever wondered why? To find the answer, let’s look at the other relationships, which are much cherished by everyone—between parents and children! Why is the relationship so special? Well, it’s not bound by rules, but by love. But relationship with in laws is generally bound by rules, rarely by love, especially in country like India, where these rules are rigid.

Until your marriage, you do not come face to face with ‘rules’. With marriage, especially if you are staying with in laws, rules rule your world. Those who haven't lived with in laws for at least a year are not eligible to make a judgement here. With marriage, a girl dreams about creating her own cute little universe with her man and later with kids. Little do you realize what the reality will be! Suddenly, you find yourself being judged all the time. It’s a hard feeling. You never got that feeling when you were with parents.

Suddenly 'someone' decides or has an opinion on what you always considered personal—when you should have a baby, your baby’s name and sometimes even your baby does not belong to you. You suddenly get to know of your weaknesses and negative points, which were never in focus earlier. This is in contrst with a childhood much loved by parents. It takes time to get used to the feeling. You are never yourself. You are always trying to please someone or trying to rise to their standards. It will cause resentment and will take a toll on you and your relationships, especially if you are fiercely independent.

Where’s the little universe you were dreaming about? This could be the toughest part—the loss of a home. Your home is a beautiful place you could always come back after a hectic day and relax and be yourself. You find yourself longing for a real home and to be the real you. When you connect stress with the house you’ve got to go back to, it is no longer a ‘home’. You still have to go back there because you no longer have another place to go—your precious ones, your kids and husband are there, and they are much loved and belong there too. You have your duties to fulfill now. That’s life. It’s too short, you’ll never get to live that dream!

Daughter in law is also an in law. But I cannot comment on that part because, I am not ready to cross over to the other side of the bridge yet. Let me not be prejudiced. Parents in laws will have a lot to say too. But I would like to do my bit to change the concept of mother in law. Why shouldn’t a girl who will come to share my son’s life feel loved and wanted at our home?

Just like I want to be the best mom in the world, I would like to be the best mom and not mom in law to my son’s wife too. If I am not going to be one, I would rather not live to see my son’s marriage—I would love that he remembers me as a loving mom, and not someone who harassed his wife!

The swine flue scare

A young teacher is Bangalore is believed to be the first casualty of swine fever in the city. Two of the schools remained closed this week while others preferred to be cautious. They explained to the children how grave the situation was and warned them not to go to school even if they had a mild cold or fever.

One of my daughter’s friends was down with cold and was absent from class for couple of days. The next day, almost the entire school heard rumours that the girl nearly had swine flu. My daughter came home and told me that her friend was very close to having swine flu. Well, that's kids spreading rumors. My brother said his boss who had just returned from Australia was diagnosed with swine flu. My husband said when he visited clients, they asked him to disinfect himself before entering the premises.

Last night I had stayed awake till 3.00 am to complete my work and started sneezing. I thought, oh, God, tomorrow everyone in the office will be scared to come near me. What more, people at home will also avoid me. I was alright in the morning. Now everyone treats a person with a common cold also to be an untouchable. We have cancelled movies and anything to do with crowded places.

Swine flu has hit the globe at the same time unlike other diseases. So far, most of the diseases like this were either in other Asian countries in Asia, Europe or the US. This is our first brush with a deadly disease. It may be a stranger, an unknown face, but it still seems too close. I just hope it just doesn’t get any worse.

Shivasamudra and the big banyan tree

Shivasamudra waterfalls, about 125 kilometers from Bangalore, is simply awesome. The Cauvery river forms two waterfalls Gaganchukki and Bharachukki and looks majestic during the rainy season. Check out these images taken during our weekend trip. But make sure you don’t go there in the afternoon. Best time to visit would be in the evening when the sun is not so harsh. The day we visited was the inauguration of the waterfall festival.

We went to both Gaganchukki and Bharachukki to view the waterfalls. I had read in some websites, and my friends had also warned that there were no bathrooms or good hotels in Shivasamudra.

To my surprise, I saw a newly constructed bathroom and some temporary bathrooms made of metal sheets. I saw amused foreigners checking out these structures and clicking pictures. But the doors of the bathrooms were locked. Perhaps it was built for the VVIPs. While the VVIPs can relieve themselves, people like us will need to look for some cover.

I was tempted to wet my lips in the scorching sun, but decided against it. I decided it was a better idea to wait till evening and go to some hotel to visit the bathroom on our way back. But older people may not be able to wait for so long.

If only the authorities had provided basic amenities in such tourist spots instead of just focusing on celebrating such festivals. We also visited the 600-years old banyan tree on the way, the big banyan tree, which is another tourist attraction. You just can’t figure out where its main trunk is.

Racial violence in Australia, Europe, and in India

We have been reading about racial violence against Indian students in Australia. Everyone has been reacting to the government’s inability to solve the problems of Indians abroad. Well, it’s not in Australia alone. When I traveled to Europe, I must say, strangers almost seemed hostile. If you know them personally, they are warm and friendly, otherwise they are cold.

When I was traveling in a train in London, a stranger blocked my way when I was trying to alight from the train. I was worried because the train would stop only for a short while. I had to take his hand off forcefully and run out of the train. He seemed angry and said, “F@#& off”. I wonder what infuriated him! Later, when I thought about it, I thought it must be my brown skin. People told me to not to venture out at night, because it wasn’t safe for us ‘brown skinned’ people. People seemed to link brown skin with terrorism. They also rudely refered to the so called brown skinned people as ‘Pakis’.

Forget about Europe, when I was traveling in a BTS bus in Bangalore, the lady conductor refused to stop the bus at my bus stop and said I should talk to her in the native tongue Kannada, to stop the bus. I have also had bad experience from people in north India, who jointly refer to all south Indians as ‘Madrasis’. The Shiv Sena bashing up north Indians is the other side of the coin.

There is no end to discrimination based on your colour, caste, nationality, state, district, and God knows what would come up next. We are all nomads, we don't really belong anywhere. If only people understood that!

The dirty face of office politics

I am sure all of us would have, at some point, suffered coworkers, who would never give up trying to make our lives difficult. I can think of a couple of reasons - inferiority complex, jealousy, and inflated ego.

An ex-colleague of mine deleted my folder conaining all my work files, without leaving any trace. The back up did not include the recent files, leaving me to redo a lot of work. This is actually not that bad. A friend of mine was given wrong address and telephone numbers when she was travelling.

Another one, you can say, the less harmful one, is perhaps someone who makes it a point to inform the boss even if you sneeze in your cabin. Actually, some bosses seem to encourage that. In a company where I worked before, a colleaque was always complaining to the boss about me. I wondered if I should explain my side of the story. Then I decided against it. I thought, to have reached this level, the boss must be an intelligent person. Surely he has an idea about who is capable of what. I thought I should rather concentrate on work rather than give undue importance to some undeserving person. But, I must admit, it hasn't always beeen easy.

There is yet another category. They are the gossip mongers. They always give you information such as who the boss is currently seeing, a colleague getting a huge hike and all kinds of news. As a rule, they have no favourites. They simply latch on to anyone temporarily. The next moment they go back to the opposite camp to vomit all the juicy news.

Sometimes politics totally transforms the office atmosphere. It gets as bad as swimming in crocodile infested waters. Not only that you need to swim, you also need to avoid crocodiles. You'd better be good at both!