The Great Indian dilemma

One of my friend who lived abroad since years suddenly rang me up one day, she wanted to meet me...I was awestruck to see her number with the Indian code, yes she was back. Hesitant I was to ask her but she poured out her reason for her comeback.

The kids were growing up;   life was more on to a slower pace now. The return, the logic behind was to  just make the kids acquainted with Indian family conduct; she emphasized the fact that “understanding love in a different shade would be fun; love had its own definition in this oriental land still.” The   intricate family ties, diversity in its splendid ways, the colours and undoubtedly the joy of being in the same race, she somehow had her own logic ...may be J

There was a sense of holding on to the roots, the culture, the ethics of her own identity tucked so neatly in those corners of her heart still,   the essence of her original self, her own skin, her own language, and her ethnicity much kept alive. Holding on to so many   values, she was still breathing them somehow after so many years.  Somewhere deep inside they desired to be passed on, passed on to her offsprings, she took pride, and every time she spoke she chanted “My kids may have been born and bred in a different land but are Indian at heart.”

The relatively strong dilemma of Indian parents staying abroad ...A sandwiched behavioural pattern, the basic human tendency to grab the best of everything.

The Indian scenario had another story, the growing up kid had enough of those merit, the basic greed of Indian parents to settle down their kids abroad in the best of universities. Parents had their very rational logic.  Settling their kids abroad meant a better life quality, social security, social status, better lifestyle, brighter opportunities....culture, traditional values, preservation of family ties or festivities,food,flavour...”oh that’s ok!”

The line stood steady, the dilemma of being Indian, aspiring for a better lifestyle, overtly ambitious in their own way. But nevertheless the basic core nature of clinging on to the roots that’s humane too, that’s instinctive, that’s comforting in every way.

The very traditional approach of parenting in a better way, in an austere setting all doused in ethnic colours were an integral part of Indian parenting. The uncomfortable patches of a dubious mindset could be visible.  A forlorn culture with an upstart life style still could not blend flawlessly into the immigrant’s life. The tiny bits of possessive spots glowed from here and there no matter how much it was camouflaged with ideologies of liberal thoughts. May be that’s natural, a typical social behavioural pattern, the line of assimilation between two did not merge anywhere.

The two set of thoughts, genuine in its own way, true in their own limitations, ambition and aspirations. The struggles of parenting in the desi style, the conflicts of preserving the bits of roots and simultaneously clinging on to the dreams of a better life pattern.

What exactly are we trying to seek, the very conflicts inbred, innate in our mind, the ambiguity of clinging on to our own values yet seeking that extra dose for a better future, a brighter life –style, a glossier pay package and a status...the dilemma continues for us, immigrants cherishing and longing about the country they left and aspirants dreaming about the country they fantasize...

 The breach remains amongst Indians but my friend came back... and then there is another story of a couple who makes a move overseas just for their offspring’s...hmmJ

Images -Google
Published-http://www.mycity4kids.com/parenting/unaccustomed-earth

The perfect Woman

‘This post is a part of Write Over the Weekend, an initiative for Indian Bloggers by BlogAdda.’

Perfection is a perception. For me perfection does not have any defined dimension- She has a golden heart, she carries a diamond personality, she wears wisdom, she smiles just on the perfect line. Her dance moves could not be more adept, 'Oh laila' how could she have such a face, perfectly contoured features, she walks like a gypsy,  she wakes up in perfect poise, even in her lowest mood swings she disperses superlative lingo , her hair stretches in perfect streak at the middle of the night when she turns the other side, she gets off the crowded bus with her eyes radiating sparkle, the symmetry of her kohl rimmed liner stands perfectly in cycle, just "1-inch" below her eye balls  though there had been a few pushes, kick stick movements with fellow passengers while returning back from office.Her Boss would never look at her with his curved eyebrows, he knew she could move mountains perfectly( clients were just mere mortals)

The home  front-It is an  epitome of a perfectly piled up living and non living  species.  She opens the door, she had tucked the clothes in symmetry perfectly buried at the right hand corner of the left hand side of the drawer, none had moved a bit from their lined up position, the books looked at each other from their spacious corridors inside the book shelf, they had a 2 -inch distance amid themselves, they too were perfect in their task of maintaining a perfect decorum. The kitchen was another place- may be it exhibited Godly attributes.

Knock at the door, the kids were home, two little monsters “oops” two perfectly trained little super kids. They came, they conquered the cupboard, the clothes still remain at their perfect settings, the kids know exactly where to find the clothes, the shirt aligned to the right side rests in stoic discipline long after the kids had gone, kids had their meals ‘perfectly’ rejoicing the mother’s recipe “karela “ “ lauki” singing sweet nothings about the health benefits of “karela and lauki”.

Buz, huzz, tuzz, reversed gear, blah blah blah,abra ka dabra... perfection turned upside down, whizzed, sizzed, hush hop, oohlala...I stand there ....perfectly  berserk, ransacked territory on the upper shelves of my head, just below the eyes had kohl rimmed eyelashes, black patches running towards the nose, the kurta was blue, the kurta had been looking for a perfect match but the trouser always betrayed her spirits, yes they were 'blue'. The perfect blend ;)

The metro ride was as heavenly, the pigs even spoke in a better pitch, back home, the house was delighted as ever to find its master who  lost  her way every day just like her clothes , they  yearned to be in perfect alignment with colours or even pairs, lost in the rumble, in their crazy delight they were “perfect”.  Books, they too enjoyed every bit of their romance with playmates, caressing the other pages, sitting over, hugging, indulging here and there free as a "free soul". This was my house.

 I suddenly look at the mirror, I seek perfection but I smile, I laugh, I scream, I fondle my hair and there I say " I still am perfect”. 

 "I love it that way,  I make blunders, I make errors, I scream, I dream, I yell, I shout, I lose, I win, I live,yes I live".

“I am perfect to me “ The mirror yells too "The perfect Woman"

I could not talk about that to her

My little girl sat on the chair just at the corner of the door, family was shattered; we had no other option but to take our 10 year old with us. I had no place to keep her, she was holding my hand, and I had uttered a few words about the sudden demise of one of our loved one (a very close relative) I fumbled, I searched for better words, my mind scattered to gather the perfect way to tell her about the most harsh reality but I could not, I have always found the best words to adorn my writings but at that moment it was emptiness. 

I found it quite painful to escape her roving eyes; I was desperately seeking for answers because as an adult even I tried to seek explanations. I clinged to her, caressing her soft hands and took her to the remotest corner of the room, that scattered corner of the room where she would not see tears, shattered hearts' and the truth of human existence (May be I was a fool to even think so) I yearned for that little space in that chaotic corner; I had all the intention of breaking away from the truth.

I gathered all my wit to deviate her attention but at the end of the day I had to face her, I had to tell her, I had to share with her, I had to counsel her, life absolutely spoke of hurdles everywhere and as humans we try to seek logic or try hard   to elude the reality but was it feasible?

There are times when events or occurrence does not manifold the way we assume, truth always stood there but it was never plugged in us, may be each one of us desired to evade it. Death, an absolute truth, it stood there always behind us, beside us, with us but the very concept of even discussing it amongst ourselves is shattering.

Life unfolds itself in its own wavering ways, the future is fickle, life is uncertain and when death strikes the door...the baffled mind is absolutely ragged, the aftermath appalling resulting in depression, distress and severe mental, psychological and   behavioural dilemma.

As an adult we have our own healing mechanism, external and internal adaptable skills to withdraw and expunge from the memories with time but the whole concept of accepting death as a child or an adolescent is a very intricate process.  Proper counselling and enlightenment can heal and rehabilitate. It could be that little puppy or the neighbour’s uncle or may be someone as precious in our own family, death is inevitable. As the child realizes the truth of not being able to see the most beloved ones as he or she used to do in past, it challenges the basic life pattern. The initial set back of not finding the person nearby, of spending hours, days, months in a hopeless, disconsolate state is in itself depravation to basic human need. There could be a few things which could help a child regain the elemental confidence in life, in happiness, in joy, in assurance, in spirits...the very basic will to live....to live happily.

Lets strike a conversation

Let’s talk- The beauty of birth, of existence, of relationships, of life and in between the biological reality.

Lets speak  in a better tone- Let’s not preach and teach, let’s just take the normal tone, in our own very way, being over flowery or trying to be overtly positive would again spur abnormal inquisitiveness

Let’s just start on with conversation- About how life evolved, how it progresses.

Let’s counsel on life- We can do absolutely nothing about this phenomenon, man is bound by such conditions, helpless, a spectator. A mere mortal most of the times in life, at the mercy of fate but it’s always good to counsel on life. We still go on; live life just the way, choice is what stays with us. Acceptance becomes the most difficult word but we have to go on.

It can be the most compelling situation to “teach death” but at times life itself abounds us with a lot of these compelling situations unknowingly, unwillingly we are just left with a void, a silence, a vacuum.

But a bit of positivity, a dose of counselling and the right kind of conversation can help our dear ones eradicate many mental and behavioural ailments. It surely can leave a better understanding in the young hearts.

They still carry “Happy Feet and Sing Happy Tunes”

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Happy feet

The coffee maker had turned on the whistle, she yawned, hurried back to her soft satin blanket, eyes could not be generous, frugal, shadowed and then there were the fast forward settings of an urban life stint. The perfect blend of her hand pressed handloom “salwar kameez” went well with her motherly aura, the lunch box smiled - finely tucked mushroom chicken sandwich for the kids, the husband was trained enough to read the alarm signals on time, he had revised his office timing last month, the drop at the bus stop, the maid stood there perfectly in her imperfect style- that’s it, undoubtedly the urban upper middle class women worked hard-a long day but life showered better perks every time she toiled hard.

 But here in my blog I am not counting the perks of those familiar faces rather I would count on the splashes of sweat dropped on hot sunny afternoons by familiar strangers, wet monsoons too cannot deter their smiles-maybe they had worn spirits in their sleeves. We have seen such faces everywhere; around the corner, behind our lane, on the foot path, at my house, on a trip, in the clingy railway station and just on the road. They all had expressions, unique each of them in their own special way.

Walking along the himalayan trail  for a livlihood

 The handloom plant Dharamshala

One monsoon afternoon @India Gate

Sitting around the foot path selling  “hot cakes” every day, I see such faces. 

 She dabs extra lemon juice on the last make. “Makki”  “Challi” “Bhutta” she spends the whole day sprinkling lemon and salt, heating those yellow pearls on golden light. She is happy; she makes a round figure of Rs 300 that was more than enough for the day.

Welcome to another sect – my blog is not about glorification of their struggles through my words but it’s a capture of their invincible spirit. They work hard, harsher sometimes; apathetic conditions of livelihood but colours still flutter from their tattered   sacks, everyday those wrinkled paper notes head on to the market to buy household stuffs. She giggled, the last customer bargained for 5 rupees “Sahib 5 rupaya ki to baat hai, kyun kum de rahein ho?” She had thought he would happily depart with that note, colours ran strong around her.  She straps her basket, leaves her happy trail and catches the next local at 10-45 pm.

Colors @Delhi Haat

She sat there in the busy haat, every night she carved a niche through those artefacts.  “Boutique” “woh kya hota hai?” She knew the harmony of colours and rhythm of designs. She was the sole earning member. She sold her designs in the nearby busy market. Last year “Brinda” had bought a beautiful lamp shade, she designed a new corner in her French villa where she unfolded exquisite artefacts from different corners of the world “Foreign tourists don’t bargain.”

These women galloped their way, everyday to new destinations; they might not have reached pinnacles of glory but who cares about glorious memoirs. They paint a perfect odyssey of life. My salute to the ordinary yet extra ordinary women of India. They leave their own foot prints. Welcome to the “New breed of fire wagons”.

“Nature vs Nurture”-decoding it in my way

The duality of everything in this universe makes it more intriguing and ofcourse more questionable. Nevertheless that calls for an extensive and expansive research of inquisitive minds. The day we receive the parenting crown, our natural curve for learning, observing and exploring gets a new dimension. The “

Parents curve” or may be “Parents are the new kids on the block” The child is the stimulator.

The reason for choosing up such a topic, few days ago I was going through an article “How heredity and environment affect the process of growth and development" Quite an interesting topic as I have a 10 year old and each day I unleash new traits, unveil unique versatility in her character as she grows, every day  is a new day till her growth gets the stagnation certificate but behavioural pattern or development is an ever evolving saga which would be shaped by environment.

Environment, experience and training plays a vital role apart from the genes inherited. My research was based on the findings that my 10 year old was not inclined towards music at all but her genes had musical hypersensitivity. We have enrolled her to music classes as she has the right pitch and her humming spoke of melody or may be an ardent ambition of musically inclined parents....whatever ;) The training starts, The “Nurture” story begins here. The battle between the “Nature and Nurture”

Now coming to the topic- I was transported to the very popular concept - the variance in thoughts between exponents of the two schools- The behavioural approach and the genetic research module “Nature vs. Nurture. Nature is hormone based behaviour. Nurture is the way the child is brought up, it is the sum total of environment and experience.

We as parents not always have an understanding of the terms scientifically but our perception, our scattered knowledge and natural understanding often put these theories in conventional frame through which it is easier to draw a conclusion.

The physical attributes of the child is such a trait which we naturally attach to our genes...me and my husband literally have done a microscopic survey on heights. Maternal grandparents to paternal great grandparents the list has been long ;) It’s not necessary to a have a finely wired knowledge of genetics to observe the common place events which naturally point out the impact of genes. Height, eye colour, the muscle contour, athletic genes, jubilant personalities, multiple personality, intelligentsia, slow learners and even psychopath’s all have genes as contributor.

Nurture or environment has its own glory-My daughter has an exercise schedule everyday as we believe that her height might escape the wrath of genes with a bit of muscle push and pulls, that is where the “nurture “ aspect assimilates.

Modern day behavioural psychologist opines that nurturing plays a vital role in the overall personality development of a child. Here the genetic or the hereditary concept is not always considered as vital to human development. I have a common friend who was blessed with twins, both grew up to be similar in many traits but there were a few significant traits which were gradually being visible in one of the child, she was more of an extrovert in character, the other one would shy away in a crowd, there was also a stunning inclination towards music in one of the child but the other one had an athletic aptitude. The musical trait is definitely an endowment from her mom who herself is a trained singer, but sports was the last thing to be in their basket not even in remotest family lineage showed any inclination...her husband being a doc, had his last high jump session in one of his annual school sports event,  the very complexity lies here.

Controversies, research and analysis propound this subject, Nature vs. Nurture. During early years philosopher Immanuel Kant explained that human cognition is an out spur of genetics and heredity but on the contrast philosopher Locke believed human mind is just like a sheet of blank paper, nurturing, training and the overall environment shapes, outlines the human mind.

The research continues and we as parents with our own trial and error methods measure the  impact of genes by analysing our forefather’s  in one hand and on the other hand simultaneously compile, create  and nurture the left over with the best of our abilities,  creating a perfect blend of “Nature and Nurture”

Image C@Google

5 hot spots in Kolkata -A must visit

I had been raised in this city. There were some confined zones till where I would stretch my wandering zeal. As a child I still reminisce a few of the hot spots where I used to often visit... a warm winter afternoon, a criss-crossed mat,floral cup cakes, spicy fish fry and “Dum aloo” or the Bengali version “Aloor Dom” and then  we headed on to  the picnic spot at Botanical garden on a weekend or an attempt to find a white leopard inside the rusty cage of Alipore Zoo, sometimes a pony ride near  Victoria, the newspaper wrapped “jhaal muri” or “bhel puri” near park street crossing,  and then may be if Ma permitted was allowed a chariot ride,  “Ma "knew  bargaining tacts,  I often used to say “How green was this place, why can't Kolkata be like this everywhere”, that specific road  could boast of a “clean tag”

So many years have passed thereafter, here  I was with my daughter playing the same role...I tried to explore a few of those places which I had crossed zillion times holding Ma’s hand... but always hummed “Next time" many times  during winter afternoons, I  had poked myself to visit those places but again there were the mundane, the routine ..but now with my 10 year old, I suddenly recognised an  inexplicable travelling spirit. Or  might be a  “Mothers’ super active zeal  had shed off its latent lethargic trend, every visit since then has been a new discovery, an exploration, an experience, a fun stroll..an old city, bits and pieces of new charm amidst the banal,  that's how  this city is unfolding  its many hidden gems, may be or might be my motherly zest, hunting for it ;)

                             Victoria Memorial

Victorios-Victoria Memorial

Victorial Memorial-Located at Qeensway, kolkata-It is the largest marble building bulit in 1906 and 1921. A great tourist spot, established in the memory of queen Victoria

The Entrance-Victoria Memorial

Prinsep Ghat

 "Nouka" ride @Princep Ghat-

The fun train-Where learning never ends

Da Vinci learning hosts a smart afternoon @Wndy's Cyber Hub,Gurgaon

Date-28^th May –Saturday

Venue-Wendy’s Cyber Hub Gurgaon

Great minds @work

Wonder-ful World

The Meet

Event-Da Vinci smart learning afternoon

Kids and their smart ways go hand in hand these days. With each passing day, the kids of our generation are breaking the records of the conventional intelligent milestones. Coping with the challenges is not a child's play for parents. 

Their knowledge, their inquisitiveness to learn and understand things, their intelligent queries surely calls for something unique, something which would match up with their grey cells and something which would grab their attention, enlighten them with ideas, creativity and knowledge. Now days most of  the  channels have monotonous scripts of animated characters.  The channels telecasting informative and educative programmes target adult audience with blatant information about the topics without any fun quotient, thrill or  spark. Kids have no choice left with them but to watch what are being been served.

PicturePostcards from Paris

A bag pack, some munchies, a few bottles....and my family-A trip to the most gorgeous city #Paris

As a travel freak I had always fantasized about landscapes, cities, histories and cultures...my history book, my geography notebook, a map and the innumerable travel magazines and travelogues had sketched lavish and gorgeous pictures of this city, the ultimate galore of architecture, beauty, art, culture, the city had all, the city had more than that, the high tech yet artistically crafted buildings, museums, cruise by the river "Seine",  boats, romantic couples,  french delicacies,  musicians  near the river bank, open food joints bustling with crowd, French wine,  French baguette, French cheese, (French)beautiful women, fanciful lights sparkling by the river at nights, fashion, “Christian Dior”, “Louis Vuitton”love, fragrance (perfume)happy faces, smiles, that was Paris to me. The den of “Haute Couture”, the breeding ground of all that's fanciful, gorgeous and beautiful. A perfect blend of beauty and culture..."Bonjour" 

Of wine and perfume
of beauty and grace
of cheese and sweetness
Paris remains the best in taste

Picturepost cards from #Paris

View from Eiffel Tower

Lobster by the river

Who cares about the "Superwoman" tag?

“Men to the left because women are always right”

“Behind every successful man there is a woman”

“Girls are made of sugar and spice and everything nice”

Why does a woman have to be right always, why does a woman have to carry all   the good omen or ill luck for a man’s success story, Isn’t’ he his own architect? And last but not the least does she  need to have all the sugar and spice elements rolling from her head, heart and body ... common tread on to the nearby bakery shop for that;)

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My Homework has all the stars 

Parenting has always been an interesting game, surrounded by the “if"'s and “but's". But right from the dawn of parenthood to the dusk zone, parents have always garnered various skills in  intonating the most common phrase “Do your homework”  But are we prepared for the big homework assigned to us as parents.

I as a parent could not fathom my joys when I saw my bundle of joy. She started with bits and pieces, drawing all about the hi- tech machines, exploring and researching about those technology at her age. I was overwhelmed and I started sketching her future, etching unlimited dreams but somewhere there was a shaded zone, my smile was not as carefree, my thoughts were not as breezy. A mountain of worries stood there in front of me “Realizing her dreams would cost a dream amount” I said to myself.

My research suddenly guided me to the right track, I  came through Axis Mutual fund investment plan,http://www.homework.axismf.com/. 

I was convinced,it appeared the best mutual fund initiative through systematic Investment Plan (SIP) scheme.Keeping in mind children’s aspiration, it plans for  a child’s future in the best possible ways. Life is summed up in those 4 arenas.

• The Why
• The How
• The What
• The fun

And each month effortlessly we come closer to our dream, of settling her with the right career, the way she dreams, the way we see her.