Joie de Vivre

Pushpa is in her mid-sixties. With her warm smile and trendy hairstyle, she does not look like a traditional grandmother. She has tried her hand at a lot of things – being a play school teacher, teaching spoken English to bored housewives, selling Tupperware. For the past few years, she has turned entrepreneur, selling home-made chocolates and block-printed sarees from home.

Sharada is fifty. Appearances can be deceptive, and Sharada’s traditional appearance hides the bubbling spontaneity of a child! Married to a creative artist, she is a very creative person herself. She is an accomplished singer and music teacher but that does not stop her from learning and doing new things. Recently she learnt archery (!) and also acted in a student film, just for a lark! She is a wonderful mimic and raconteur, and can keep you in splits with her tales!

What connects these two women is the fact that they both are cancer survivors.

What amazes me is their spirit and their spontaneous, joyous approach to life. Like so many others I know, they have been to the edge and have come back, not scarred, but filled with a love for life.

When I look at them, my own ennui and cynicism seem out of place. Is it necessary, I wonder, to face death in order to appreciate life?

Hi, I am back!

Have been missing in action, as Cynic says! Fact is, I did not expect to go off for so long. The exams and the holidays brought their own challenges, and so many things came up that I really did not find the time to sit and write...Like Vishwa, I ended up taking a sabbatical without really planning it!

Also, a lot of things that I would like to write about involve other people, and I am not sure if I can or should write about them. True, I can change the names, but many of them read my blog, and would understand who and what I am talking about. Is it fair to do so? I don't know. I sometimes feel I should have started an anonymous blog, like Cynic!

This is also not a blog about people I have known. It is about how I see things, how I experience Life....sometimes, it is not possible to tell all that I am experiencing and seeing,for the simple fact that most people will think I am crazy! That involves a careful selection of words and phrases, which sometimes hampers my style.

But I cannot abandon my "baby", as it were, so here I am folks, back from my self-imposed exile, and hoping to write some more!

A Peak Scaled

I have been in a kind of daze for a while now, since the X Board Results revealed that my daughter has done very well. It is the kind of daze, or should I say satisfied weariness that strikes you when you have achieved something that you have worked towards.

Eight years ago, when my daughter was assessed to be dyslexic, I really did not understand what the journey would entail. I just went by a mother’s instinct to help my child overcome what I felt were obstacles on her path. I learnt on the way, acquiring a Teacher’s Training Certificate to teach children who were like her. But I soon learned that a mother who also doubles up as a teacher faces not one wall, but two!

There have been so many moments of frustration, so many days when I almost threw in the towel, but unlike a tutor, a mother cannot give up, can she? I learnt patience as I picked myself up after each frustrating moment and ploughed on. I learned to appreciate the small things and celebrate each victory, small or big. I learned to look beyond the academic and understand the child as a whole. I learned that all of us are intelligent, even if we did badly at school, for there were other areas where our intelligence would shine through –in music, dance, art, sports, and a host of other arenas. I loved Howard Gardner’s theory of Multiple Intelligences for it made so much sense and helped me understand my daughter’s strengths. I read, taught, and googled as I constantly updated my knowledge about dyslexia.

But my daughter has been my greatest teacher. Her friends were surprised when they came to know that her parents did not throw a fit or have a heart attack when they saw her grades. We knew she had done her best, and we knew that she would come through when it did matter. Meanwhile, we did all we could to nurture her awesome talents in music, dance and art. We have allowed her to grow up into a confident, stable young woman with a mind of her own.

Throughout, I have never shied away from talking about my daughter’s learning disability, for I feel that is the only way I can reach out to many more people who probably are not aware. Through them, I can help so many children who are probably in need of such help, and are fighting frustrating academic battles. Earlier, when someone would ask me “So what is dyslexia” or think it is the same as mental retardation, it was difficult for me to explain concisely. These days, thanks to Aamir Khan, it is easy – “Just watch Taare Zameen Par. My daughter is just like that child in the movie”. It also helps them understand just how talented and intelligent these children are. The only problem they have is with academics.

Recently, a friend asked me if my daughter had “gotten over” her dyslexia. People still think it is some kind of disease that one outgrows! I spend a lot of my time explaining, but sometimes I don’t know if they really understand! But all that can wait, for right now, we are celebrating what is most certainly the first of the many peaks we are prepared to scale. Let the party begin!


Image courtesy: www.readingandspelling.com/Symptoms_Of_Dyslexia.html

To my daughter...

Strange, how your face seems to morph into mine.......

Your angry words, the look in your eyes - an echo of mine.

Words spoken long ages ago, come back to haunt me, through you.

Now I am on the 'other' side, feeling both fear and love, like every mother -

While you chafe and protest, wishing to break free, break the boundaries that I have extended .....but they are still boundaries.

We re-enact the eternal scene........only the people change; the feelings, the conflicts, sometimes even the words, do not.

A Very Private Matter

A couple of weeks ago,I had to consult a doctor for a minor problem. At the city centre of a well-known hospital chain,where I had the appointment, I was asked to fill in a registration form. Sitting down to fill it,I was shocked to find that I had to fill in not just my name, age, address but also my religion.

Religion???? Why on earth would a hospital want to know my religion? If they really wanted to find out which community I belonged to, my name would be a dead give-away. If they had just reproduced an official form, then it shows a total lack of sensitivity.

I firmly believe that my religion, or my faith, is a very private matter between me and my Maker, and I don't think anyone else has any say in the matter. There is too much religion in the public sphere causing too much trouble. I do not think even schools should be asking us to supply such information, so where is the question of a hospital doing the same? Why should they know what is my religion or community? Will a doctor refuse to treat me based on my religious beliefs?I find it ridiculous.

Needless to say, I did not fill in that particular column.

Love in a wired world.....

Last week, idly surfing the TV channels, I chanced upon a Tamil movie. The movie must have been made a decade ago and was a tender love story which involved many twists and turns in the plot. Central to the progress of the plot was the idea of communication (or lack of it).

The heroine does not have a telephone at home and has to go to the neighbour’s house or to a phone booth to call the hero. This often leads to strange situations where she is not able to inform him of some important happening in her life, or pass on vital information like the fact that she has to leave town immediately. While he waits to meet her at the designated spot, she passes by within yards of him on a crowded railway platform, and the two do not see each other. We almost feel like crying out, ‘Turn and look. She is leaving on that train.”

I am sure many of us would recall similar situations in numerous Indian movies, in all languages, where misunderstandings created poignant situations and carried the plot forward.

With the advent of the ubiquitous mobile phone, our movies have lost much of their old-world charm. When you are constantly connected through voice or text, how can there be a lack of communication? There is a surfeit of it, and our scriptwriters can no longer bank on the old tool of miscommunication. In the process, however, our stories have lost some of that poignancy that characterized movies made even a decade ago.

In fact, it has reached the other extreme. A recent ad for a mobile service provider features a young couple texting each other. Only at the end do we realize that they are not far apart, but on the same park bench and that, in fact, the man is lying on the girl’s lap. Why text, when you can look into the eyes of your beloved and say what you want to say? Where is the romance here?

Being constantly connected, constantly in each other’s lives, can be overwhelming. But one cannot deny that today’s lovers will not suffer for want of receiving that all-important message, or vital piece of information that may make or mar their relationship.

A Milestone

I am a year old today, on Blogger!

Just a year ago, I started this blog, having no clue what I was going to write, who would read it, and if anyone would read it at all. Still, it was an opportunity to do what I love best – to write.

However, unlike my husband, I shied away from marketing my blog. While he told everyone about his blog, I kept quiet unless I was persuaded to tell them my blog address.(No, I have nothing against marketing. It just isn't me,that's all.) And yet, you came, all of you came and read my posts, and sometimes left comments. I have found some wonderful friends, even if I have not met most of them in person.

Unlike other prolific bloggers, I have not reached my 50th or 100th post; this is only my 20th! But it feels great when I am missed; when you come and visit my blog to see if I have updated it. It makes me carry on, even when I have nothing to write about, or when I start doubting if I can write at all.

Thanks, guys and gals, thank you for your encouraging words and comments. And those of you, who came and did not comment, thank you too. By just visiting my blog, you give me the strength and courage to carry on, to keep the writer in me alive!


image courtesy:www.ptmortgage.com/blog/category/miscellaneous/ - birthday cake.