Ganesha

 As a young child, I had a close connect with Ganesha. The first introduction to him was through my mridangam master, and my grandmother - both devoted followers of the deity.

I was told Ganesha plays mridangam and I always liked to worship him before I started playing it. It was a routine and when done as a routine by a young 10 year old, it becomes a habit and then infatuation. My connection continued for a very long time before I started questioning it one day.

I questioned which father would cut his son's head off. And for what reason? Ganesha's mother asked him to stay put and keep watch. He did exactly that. 

This is child abuse at many levels. First, imagine the plight of the poor kid with an elephant's head. He would be the butt of all jokes all his life. Second, What was the fault of the poor elephant that it had to lose its life for the rage of someone who was in a hurry? One of the 3 main gods makes a blunder and the solution leads to life long suffering for a child, an elephant and its family, none of who were at fault in any way.

Even if it is only a myth, or a story, the message it sends is dangerous. Whichever angle one views it from, I can only see a chauvinistic man who couldnt bear the thought of a child stopping him and had no qualms in cutting his head off on that pretext.

From a hard core Ganesha fan,

Happy Ganesh Chathurthi.

Competition ? There is none

I have been reading about this " Competitive World" syndrome off-late. Hence this post.

Competition is handled by understanding you opponent, his/her strengths, weaknesses. You then understand your strength/weakness. Work on your strengths that can win over your opponent's weaknesses, and if you succeed to beat that, you win !

Whom are you competing with ? With the 7 lac kids who wrote the exam together ? How can you compete with them, not even knowing who they are ?

When it comes to a job, you can't compete either. You are selected based on a test, an interview. What stands out is only you, against the benchmark set for that role. There is no opponent there.

We have over years, craft-fully fallen prey to the whole gimmick of the invisible competitor , who in reality doesn't exist.

85% of the jobs that exist today will become obsolete in a decade. 70% of are not doing the jobs that we got educated for . What are you preparing your kids to compete against ?

High time we teach ourselves and our kids that the world is big enough for everyone to co-exist and win our own bread. It need not be competed, because the one you are fighting with in disguise of competition is yourself ! And you will never win that battle.

Let the kids enjoy their childhood, without fear. Let them learn from mistakes, Let them choose their path. Just be the guiding angels.

Alternative Education - A testimonial

This is not a testimonial for a school, this one is for a philosophy.

I have been a fan of alternative education for long, and both my kids go to such a school. One common concern I have heard from parents against alternative education is that, the kids are not able to score marks. Though this has never concerned me or most of us who believed in the concept, Im happy that this time around, with personal experience, even that myth is busted. Children from the alternative spaces have scored in excess of 97% and are at par with any conventional school where the only focus is academics.

So what have my kids done along with academics..

- They spend time preserving a lake
- They went for study tours , to far away villages, traveled in public transport, lived in minimal facilities, worked with the villagers, ate their food, and realised life is not as glossy as it sounds
- They learned that humility is the first lesson in life ,when they saw their aayas and sweeper ammas, light the lamp at their arts and sports meet
- The PTM meetings never discussed marks, we discussed children, their learning, their experiences, and their way of life.
- They learnt competition is not the way to survive, collaboration is ( As i write this they are not bothered who scored how much, who is the first in class etc etc )
- They are more than happy that the school is not even putting up their marks on display, let alone the pictures of their toppers all over social and print media
- They were calm and composed before and after the exams. We spend quality time watching a movie, or reading a book, or having an ice cream, and did not panic that exam is the next day.
- They had fun, and they also wrote their exams and came out in flying colors. It was just another day for them.

To all who still have worries on alternative education vs conventional, this is my answer .

And again, alternative is not for all . Each kid is different , each school is different. Choose what suits your kid, and not what suited you, your neighbor or your colleague !

The lost fragrances

It rained in Bangalore. After long days of record breaking heat, the rain will bring some relief. I did not realise that it rained, till late. The first rain, to me, always was associated with the fragrance of the soil. Like lightning that precedes the thunder, this fragrance hits me before the rain does. It is missing and I wondered where it had gone. Like everything else in today’s digital world, I let my virtual friends in Facebook know of my predicament and drove towards home.

As I drove, I recollected that there were three distinct fragrances that I relate to, from my child hood. April always used to bring all three of them together. It was fresh, it was unique and it was still on the tip of my nose!

The soil was the first one. It had such an enchanting smell. As the first rain drops would fall, some amazing chemical locha works and the fragrance surrounds the place. As the rain poured on, the puddles of water on the road was making my drive difficult and I ran the risk of losing my memories of the fragrances. 

I stopped over in a fruit stall. I wanted to buy some mangoes. They used to give me the second distinct fragrance.  We would go to my Dads house during holidays, and as I remember there were twelve different varieties of mangoes there. Dad would tell us stories of him planting most of those saplings. As we would get down from his scooter, I would be in the mystic world of the smell of the mangoes. Each one had a distinct smell, but I had a favourite. I would run to climb the tree and smell the mango from the tree, as it swayed in the wind, for me to pluck and taste it. I smelled the mango in the fruit stall, and I felt I was in my chemistry lab. Seeing my upset face, the shopkeeper tried convincing me, “sir, organic mangoes will come tomorrow”.  I still buy mangoes after smelling them, and probably is the reason I have not been buying them for a while now. 

I turned around to walk out, and saw my third favourite fragrance right in the corner. Books!!! I took one from the shelf, opened it and took a deep breath. Goodness!! They still smell the same, well almost!! We would go to the small bookstall opposite to the temple in Palghat town. We would get to buy children’s comics. The bookstall had the fragrance of the freshly opened books and it still lingers. I bought a book and walked out taking another deep breath of its smell. 

As I tried to sleep, I felt a new smell. It was the Iblur Lake stinking after the first rain. I sprayed the room freshener and went to sleep. The fragrances were lost.

A Tribute to Motherhood

This is for all the fathers and mothers to be, for you to appreciate the true beauty and warmth of a new baby coming into this world, and a true appreciation of the motherhood.

It was a culmination of 37 weeks of excitement, pain and restlessness. Kavitha got admitted on 4th Sept 2008, at 0630 am in Apollo hospital, Bangalore..During her last delivery, we had a traumatic experience of a normal delivery getting converted in to a C section after Ammu’s head came out. So we were prepared for a C section from day one. The delivery was postponed to 1030 am as some emergency cases had come up. The wait outside the labor room is painful. I managed to go in and check on Kavitha few times, as Ammu got close to the nurses . The doctor came and said, that she is being shifted to the Operation Theatre at 1st floor, and we accompanied her.

I went in to meet the doctor, and asked her, if I can join Kavi in the Labor room. She wanted me to be very sure, and checked if I’m comfortable with seeing blood and the procedure as such. Seeing my confidence, she agreed and sent me to the change room. My Mom wasn’t aware that I’m going in.  I went in then change room, and a technician explained me what I’m supposed to do. I then realized, why the doctor was reconfirming. In the previous surgery, the husband had a panic attack on seeing blood and had fainted in the Operation theatre . I was asked to wait , as they prepared her for the surgery . The technician told me that the monitors are being installed and then she would be given a local anesthesia. 

When Kavi had conceived, her blood tests had revealed Toxoplasma infection. (https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Toxoplasmosis) . Almost all such cases are aborted. We were informed about the risks involved in the pregnancy and for the new born, if we go ahead with the delivery. We went through every possible journal and paper on toxoplasmosis and consulted with friends who were doctors and experts in the area. We had taken a brave and risky call to go ahead with the pregnancy. We had made up our mind to face what comes. The risks involved having a baby with serious medical conditions including deformity and sensory issues. All this was running through my mind as I waited.

I was called into the labor room after few minutes, and the doctors had started the procedure. I was made to sit beside Kavitha, and a screen was put to conceal the surgery. I held on to her hand and sat there. I could see through the screen as the lights on the other side were bright. I could see doctor cutting open the wound and I knew it’s anytime now. Kavi was calm and I think my presence was a surprising reassurance for her too. The doctor told us that when the baby is to be taken out, they would be pushing her stomach hard, to push the baby out. After a minute they asked me to stand up, and I saw the amazing site of my baby’s head coming out of Kavi. They pushed and in a flash the baby was out. The doctor said, “ It’s a Boy “ … Kavi squeezed my hand in rejoice. I almost had a tear down my eye. The doctor cut the placenta and showed me the baby.A nurse took the baby and asked me to follow him. We went into another room, and he started cleaning the baby up. The pediatrician joined him. He put a tube in the baby’s nostrils and squeezed out some fluid with a syringe. Once they cleaned him they wrapped him in a towel. The pediatrician looked at me and gave me a thumbs up. He knew about the toxoplasmosis history. He was there to examine the child and ensure he was free of any complication. His thumbs up relieved me of the last straw of doubt. We had a healthy baby.

We took him back to the labor room. He showed the baby to Kavi and she gave him the first kiss.I told her that the baby is healthy .I went back, changed and ran to give the news to my Mom, her mom and Ammu who were waiting outside. My respect for mother hood had grown many folds. I urge all would be fathers to join your spouse and see this amazing heart touching sight. I urge all would be mothers to ensure your spouse joins you.

This is one day of your life, you will remember for ever. A true tribute to motherhood.

Powercut

The power cut at middle of night,
Brings the beauty of noise.
No sound from the air conditioner,
No screech from the fan,
The fridge is silent,
So is the television.
Its all you and your inner voice,
With karaoke from an outer world,
You can't define.
Peace

A teenager is born today

13 years back, in a dimly lit hospital corridor, a tensed up expecting dad walks his paces up and down. His wife has been in labour for more than twelve hours. The doctor hasn’t come yet and there is no word from the nurses on when he is expected. This doctor is the final word in gynaecology in that town, so all he could do was to wait. All of a sudden there is activity around the labour room, the delivery has started and the doctor is on his way. He reaches, and goes swiftly in without talking to anyone. News comes out that the baby’s head is out, but since the mother is tired, they are trying the suction now. Suddenly the doctor rushes out, and tells the waiting man, that it has to be a caesarean now, shift her to the operation theatre immediately. Even through the utter disbelief and shock, he didn’t realise that he was about to go through the most nerve racking few minutes of his life. There was no attendant to move her to the operation theatre, so he and her cousins carried the stretcher, with a semi conscious expecting mother in it. The biggest shock was yet to come, the elevator of the popular hotel- turned hospital would not fit the stretcher. They can’t move her in the wheelchair with the baby’s head almost out. All they could do was run and hope they do not tumble, and make her fall. They ran up 3 floors through the narrow staircase and moved her into the operation theatre. There was anger despair and absolute helplessness. As they gasped for air, the news came that a baby girl was born. I and Kavitha were thus blessed with our baby girl Anandita. 

Today as I remember those tense moments where we almost lost our baby due to sheer non-competence, I have no anger. I realise today that we have a fighter of a daughter, who would make her mark one day, fighting her way up, as she did on that night. It makes her even special, and everything she achieves on her grit and will, makes me feel special to be her dad. 

Today, she turns a teenager, the next phase of her life.  Yes, I miss her childhood, I miss her running up my arms as I would reach home, I miss her sleeping on my chest, I miss her crawling up to be cuddled on my tummy, I  miss feeding her, I miss bathing her, I miss carrying her in the middle of the night when she would refuse to sleep, I miss playing insane childish games at two in the morning, I miss rushing back to home in the mid of a work day when she refuses to go back home without me, I miss myself crying when she would fall sick, I miss my baby . I realise, I may never be able to do any of that with her again. Because, today she is a teenager.

Girls grow up differently, and I wonder why they grow up so fast. Today she tells us to be mature, expects us to have more realistic discussions with her. She writes her blogs about parenting. And I think, I have not grown up beyond that nervous man outside the dimly lit hospital corridor, but she has grown, and will continue to. 

Happy Birthday to my teenage sweetheart. 

Happy Birthday Ammu.