Protected: Brother’s wedding and an overwhelming experience..

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Unlock yourselves, during this lockdown..

I have come across people who keep complaining about why they cannot do certain things because they don’t have time from their daily routines and the weekends are all about recharging themselves. Be it improving the quality of the personal relationships or giving time to your child, time is always a successful excuse. I don’t have time to workout, I don’t have time to play with my son, I am too busy to spend some quality time with my wife, I am swamped with work that my mind cannot concentrate on anything else. All these are the favourite one liners. But you are not lying about these things, this is the time to mend the bents.

The entire world is locked down. When else could be the best time to make up for it? Because you may certainty and hopefully not come across such circumstances( read opportunity) in future. But even if right now, you are more concerned about checking your mobile phone, wondering about what’s the latest news every another minute, may be you don’t even deserve the people who actually trust your excuses time and again, in the first place. Look into the mirror and ask yourself for what’s worth of your words. Are you lying just to these people or even to yourself? Those messages are going to be there forever in your mobile but not the person sitting right next to you. Life is too short to waste your time. You’ll have enough time to make money, if at all the world is surviving but in either situations, your loved ones will stand by you forever.

Thanks, but No!

I am a 31 year old woman, mother of a year old child, working 9 to 6 in a corporate setup and I also just have 2 hands. Of course, I am swamped, time is money for me and more than that balancing these tasks is very crucial, every single day. But if you’d ask me, I still don’t prefer family help and like to do things in my own way.

Am I a control freak? Not really. Am I suffering from super woman syndrome? Naah! Then what drives me to do these things on my own? It’s the empowerment that comes along when I handle these things successfully, each day. I outsource the things that are out of my area of interest, but if I haven’t done that, it means that a part of me enjoys doing it.

When others are there to help occasionally, it’s nice initially; however as time goes on, things start to fall here and there. I get into a comfort zone. I might get longer sleep, but that’s not the quality sleep. I start relying on others and eventually loose the discipline that existed; had I been the only person responsible for it. Most of us love to share the load and undoubtedly I love that too. But what if it’s all on your plate, suddenly once they are gone. I share the load with a cook, a maid and perhaps my husband. That’s the ecosystem, I survive in. Comfort actually makes me lazier than it appears. I actually look forward to getting back on my feet, running alongside the hands of the clock. And at the end of the day, get comforted in the fulfilling quietness of having lived yet another day, on my own terms and conditions. That’s just me. I love being it quiet and being alone. And I have realized it after having lived away from home for years, having traveled places and having lived outside of my neuclear setup with different set of people. Temporarily it’s fine, but I need to know when the vacation is ending. So that I am ready to have my guards on. I need that due date and it can’t be a dangling one. It kind of bothers me. That’s just me, a happy loner that I used to be a long time back. I guess after years of experimenting with my personality, I have come to realise that being alone suits me the most.

Whom does the baby look like?

There is a lot of fuss about whom does the baby look like in the Indian Society. My baby is 7 months old and the chit-chats of comparing his appearance started from the very first day of his life itself. Declarations of the winning DNA by the mere looks of a few hours, days and now months old baby are still continuing….

Well you might say, you don’t mean any bad. Of course, you dont. Sometimes it could be a conversation starter. It doesn’t harm the baby at all; but is it required? Does it become too much for the parents if done over and again? Do we know how is it perceived and it’s impacts? I have 3 real life, honest instances to share and what I eventually inferred from these little experiences. Let’s see.. What my point really is?

First one, I recently told a friend of mine that her daughter looks like her and she became so happy that she said she would cry. Everyone else had been saying that the baby girl is her “father’s copy”. Has anyone realized how the mother really felt after hearing it again and again? She carried the child for 9 months, went through all the pains without complaining, provided food for that child physically, washed her, cleaned her, sacrificed her sleep, gave up her sanity, her career and what not. People are coming to meet that child and declaring carelessly that the daughter is her father’s copy! And in most of the cases these people don’t mean only the looks, they are declaring the winning DNA. Seriously? Where’s the mother in that? No matter what these people say, she is going to be her mother forever and that little girl is going to be her daughter forever. Everyone else is related to that child via that mother. People forget to empathize while announcing their unsolicited opinions.

Second one, a boy is told his entire childhood that he looks like his father. In this case, sadly that boy has taken the looks as an excuse of being short tempered, like his father, so far in his life. The thought is deeply ingrained in his mind that he (looks) is like his father. The importance of stating that it only meant look wise was ignored. Do we realize the extent to which it can hamper individuals from exploring their own selves?

The last one, I recently told a cousin that in the latest photo that he had shared, the daughter is looking like her mother. He got defensive. He explained how she always looks like him. While I mentioned that it was instance specific, he kind of dint take it nicely. I felt I had hurt him. May be it was important to him and it was totally unimportant of me to share my opinion.

Finally to the point. Each of us, is born with a unique DNA. It’s plain science. Children do show some of the qualities of their parents, but apart from looks which is not in anyone’s control, rest everything depends upon the child’s upbringing. A child’s food habits may initially appear like his mother’s based on what the mother ate during her pregnancy, but based on how the child is introduced to solids, these habits can change completely. Social skills, personality and everything else is a mixture of upbringing, surroundings and eventually an individual’s choice. I adored sweets throughout my childhood and now it’s the opposite.

So please be gentle and don’t go overboard with your “declarations”. I too learnt it the bitter sweet way. So many people would visit us and say that our son is my copy and my husband would feel left out. He would smile broadly, but I know how he feels. Afterall who doesn’t want their kid to look like them? The moment someone says that our son looks like him, he would start jumping in the air. That smile would be different. Winning DNA (He has coined this term btw) smile 😄. I often tell the other person jokingly that your name is now going in his will. Haha!😄

Jokes apart, let the new parents enjoy their journey. Sooner or later they will find out themselves who and how the child looks like. Obviously, right? 😃 And it’s only about the looks eventually. If you say it, be gentle and choose your words wisely. Don’t advertise to the society! Let’s not define a child’s identity for fun. Let them make their own identities. Respect them!

My own experience – Throughout my childhood people told me that I looked like my father, and now everyone says that I look like my mother. So it’s the people, THEY SEE WHAT THEY WANT TO SEE… 🤷🏻‍♀️
Ask me? I would love to believe that I look like both of them. ❣️

– An observer

A Grateful Daughter

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Father

The last 5 years of my life have gone, without you. They were a mix of good times & bad times. Bad times made me break, I cried looking up to you and somewhere it felt like you were listening. I did not feel lonely. Good times, made me smile, laugh but cringe at the same time. I could share them with everyone but you.

I haven’t told it to anyone before, but when I visited the Joshimath’s KALPVRIKSHA back in Jan 2017, I was told that, every wish will be granted, if it is prayed with a pure heart. I asked for YOU in return. It was an impossible wish for even God to make true but when I picked up my son for the first time, I felt, as if I was heard. I know it is unfair to make any associations and I am NOT but somewhere secretly in my heart, my son redeems me from that glued guilt of not having fulfilled some of your wishes. I feel as if I have got a second chance. Remember you used to call me your “Amma”?

I could make you quit smoking just by quitting ghee over my chapati, that too for just one meal and an overly emotional letter. You dint smoke ever after that. Now when I look back, I feel wow about it. You were a father whose daughter could write letters to. I was too young to realize how tough it must have been for you to quit a habit of over 20 years, but you did it. You did it for me. How can I ever forget the magnitude of love that means you had for me? At your funeral, I had so many strangers tell me this story back, with an underlying emotion of how much your father loved you. You’d told everyone with proud. I wish I had known this before. There are many things I wish I had realized, had I known life was going to be horribly unfair. Sadly, none of us know until life happens.

It’s been 5 years of your devastating demise. I thought I won’t write any emotional statuses, or nothing of that sort. I wanted to keep it to myself. But it’s getting difficult to not let it flow through my fingers. With every word here, I think we are connecting more. You bestowed upon me the gift of writing. I remember that red Diary of yours. I remember reading a chapter about how you felt about your father, and I closed it for ever. But I am not going to hide my feelings under the pages of paper. I am proud of you Papa by all means. I was lucky enough to have a father who did the best for his children, with given circumstances. However successful I am, or whatever praise I ever get, belongs to you and Mummy. I take pride when people start behaving with respect, when they come to know that you are my father. I’ve loved engaging with people over these years, who could share your stories. When they tell your stories about how your help changed their lives, I grim with pride. Luckily there are many such people, that I had no idea about. You used to always say “I am simply an LDC”, but people till date remember you. Sometimes those stories have even made me feel guilty. Guilty of the thought that I knew so very little about you.

I am having a rollercoaster of emotions through my heart and mind right now. But I need to stop. I need to stop so that you aren’t judged for raising an emotionally weak daughter. I am NOT perfect, but I am doing okay for myself.

Papa, I am not announcing you as some Hero for the day, but it’s true that like every other daughter’s, you’re always going to be one for me. You were a common man, who did make mistakes but you also lived like a king. Every person who has ever known you would admit, that how larger than life you were, a man with a great heart, ready to help anyone anytime. In days to come, I will try making sure that Dhairya grows up knowing about you, whether it is just about listening to the stories. He needs to know that he had an awesome Nana.

I miss you Papa and I hate this day so much.

– A grateful daughter

Note** I am neither seeking any sympathy nor any validation of my emotions towards my father. It’s a writer in me who wants to connect with an another daughter or an another son who understands this pain. With an underlying message that, take out time to know your parents, you never know when they are gone for good.

Let’s live in the moment..

Dhairya, is my 7 month baby who can’t communicate, can’t move much and basically is driven by curiosity, affection and mainly hunger throughout the day. The only medium of communicating is crying, which is when things are not going as per his needs and laughing or smiling when he feels happy about something. Pretty straight forward, isn’t it?

That makes me ponder that do we really need a language? Is it so much necessary to surface our emotions, feelings, needs, disappointments in elaborate manners? Maybe yes, because we don’t get constant care and attention like babies do. But still, in spite of being surrounded by people who know you well; are there times when they don’t know what’s going on in your heart and mind? Pretty much yes. How can that NOT happen? Well one way could be when people are willing to listen, looking into your eyes, without a hurry. People reading silences. People reading your face. People confronting about noticing what you’re going through and not ignore. Maybe PEOPLE BEING ABLE TO SHARE EMOTIONS AND GET AN ACKNOWLEDGEMENT TOO .

As much as I am growing up as a millennial, the realisation that we are getting into a weird world is hitting stronger. We as millennials have got so much more than our previous generations, that we have got so little time to be with real humans. Most of the times when I am waiting to start a conversation with someone, it’s getting difficult. It’s getting difficult to have them focused. They have already got 10 parallel tabs open on their cellphones to distract them enough. If I loose them for even 5 seconds ( I have literally counted), they navigate to their phones immediately. I would prefer days when conversations were more about being physically (as long as possible) and mentally present, than mere verbal articulations. I would enjoy lying down in my mother’s lap and talk to her. I would prefer holding hands of my significant other to discuss about the good and bad things. That personal touch is gone. It’s difficult to even get an honest hug. Remember that Jaadu ki Jhappi? Nah, not there anymore. In fact people are nicer to you over cellphones than in person. Pretty scary, isn’t it? We are geographically in the same location, but mentally distant apart. Are we cheating each other mentally? And the worst thing these behaviours do to you is that, you start to feel left out and you yourself end up turning to your non living mobile’s screen, with a bit of vindictive attitude. Alas, everything comes at a cost!

This on the other hand, when happens to my infant, his newbie mind can sense the divided attention and he starts crying or getting annoyed. He understands only this very moment and whom he can see in front of him. Whatever is happening right here, right now, is all that matters to him. As a matter of fact, he doesn’t even pay much attention to people present on video calls, in spite of them calling his name. ( We don’t allow screen time.). Some would call him an attention seeker (though teasingly), rather we can learn from him. The importance of giving your 100% to this very moment, to the person sitting in front of you. Your mobile/emails messages are going to be there forever, not this person sitting next to you.

As a mother, I try my best to be with him, by all means, when I am playing with him. I know that this phase of his life is very short termed. He would outgrow being clingy to me, so let me just make the most of it. But I fear that when he grows up, he will learn to mentally cheat people. Maybe even me, who knows? Am I being insecure? Hell yes, I am. The kind of people I am surrounded by today, make me feel insecure. You don’t know if the person talking to you is really into you or not. Those conversations are just superficial. And I love what I have with him.

This also brings me to my last thought that I read somewhere a few days back, DON’T TEACH A CHILD YOUR WAYS, LEARN TO LIVE LIFE FROM THEM INSTEAD.

Hoping for a magic, that one day, would make people learn to connect in real 🙏🏻

A hungry soul..

Dhairya ❤️

My baby boy, Dhairya, who’s already 6 months old. Laughing, sitting, sliding, been introduced to solids already…ohh gosh, how quickly time went by. I remember breastfeeding him for the first few hours and after bearing the initial pain it was causing, immediately counting the day when he can move to solids.1st September, yeah and I kept joking with everyone in response to how are you “just waiting for 1st September”. Little did I know that a lot was going to change in coming months. By the end of 3 months, he was sleeping at night at a stretch for about 5 hours, which left me sleepless because until now I had developed a nocturnal sleep routine. I was missing feeding him.I would wake up at his slight movement or even if he breathed a little different. Of course, that’s how sensitive most mothers are. The realization that a new me was born, started to feel better, it was sinking in finally in a good way. The initial 3 months are the toughest for any mother, but so are they for the baby. I am glad we found each other. 🥰

I felt stronger & confident as a woman, as a mother. I started thanking each moment for making me meet with him. I became more determined than ever to raise him in the best possible way. I realized why they say that ‘A mother knows the best for her child‘. That deadline of 1st September rather became a noise, I dint want to hear. But we all know that, happier the time, faster it flies. Here he is, already so grown up to respond to his name, be stubborn at times, pretend crying to get attention, read our faces – enough to respond with a smile or a laughter, look at new things with amusement, move his face at the slightest of sound in the room and best of all express his affection by moving his little fingers across my face as if he is trying to say Thanks Mumma.

Festivals, Religion & Belief Systems are part of an individual’s identity..

Festivals have new meanings when you are a parent. It’s a responsibility yet equally a choice, as a parent, to introduce to your child the basic cultural values and belief systems; meanwhile a child’s presence adds new flavors and a lot of excitement. 🎊
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As a child grows up, he/she happens to learn/understand one system by default; the one typically followed by his/her parents and learns new ones along the growth years through his/her surroundings. As an adult, roughly all of us have our own versions of belief systems, which inadvertently, in some areas, aids to define our personality, thoughts and functioning. I was literally having an identity crisis this time, craving to visit a Jain Temple and offer my prayers. Something that I have been doing since childhood. Not that I am an ardent follower of Jainism on a daily basis, but during such a huge festival as Paryushan, this used to be a basic routine, rather our entire day used to encircle around it. I did manage to visit with my newborn as well eventually, thanks to hubby. It was like meditating. Right from the aroma to the ambiance, everything made me feel calm inside, as if it was home, made me rebase with the lost me, which happened after witnessing people in my family go to temple celebrating Paryushan this year. It just helped feel better to some extent.
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Coming to Dhairya, my son, I am totally indifferent to what he adheres to in terms of culture and beliefs once he is a grown up individual, and obviously along the years when he is learning by seeing his parents. My only motto is to let him experience culture and religion, as much as through us and that he learns to be respectful towards other systems. Although none of this is ever going to be an obligation for him! I personally dislike enforced rituals and happily disobey them; that’s just the rebel in me. 🙋So yes, he will always have complete freedom of choice to choose the best for him in all manners. For him my policy is, Trust your child! 😇
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Wishing everyone a very happy Ganesh Chaturthi and mann, vachan, kaya thi Micchami Dukkadam 🙏
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#religion #jainanajwala#righttochoose #ganeshachaturthi #paryushan #sanvatsari #marriedtononjain 😝

“Privacy & Indian culture” is an oxymoron

Why don’t people respect privacy in India? Why do people have to enforce their way of doing things? Why do you meet such irritating people once you have reached the age where you don’t have the threshold to tolerate such behaviors? I wish I was a child again. Privacy and Indian culture together is not possible. PERIOD.

A Disturbing Ritual – that I managed to disregard (sadly only to some extent)

Recently I went through a disturbing experience of a traditional ritual which literally shook me from my soul and every time I want to simply forget it, it hits me even harder, making me realise that I did not do enough when I could have! I waited for others to do it for me and eventually I had to do it myself but on a smaller scale, which may not help anyone who thinks of freedom of choice like me. Also the impact is negligible now, because no one knows of the efforts it took me to resist throughout, and efforts it is going to take me to forgive those people who expected me to follow them blindly.

I’m not going into the details of that ritual, as I must admit that it was only about my own choices as a woman. No body asked me to walk on burning fire woods! No, nothing huge of that sort. Thank god, otherwise I would have made to the newspaper headlines! But it was definitely something similar to taking bath in chilled out waters of Ganga at 4 in the morning, when I am suffering from cold. Just giving an analogy here, because I don’t want to hurt people who belittle themselves by doing such things; again strictly in my opinion!!! But if you’d ask me, I will never dip in that water…not even for an extra life. PERIOD!

So keep that analogy in mind. But then, why am I writing down something abstract for my readers? Well it is more for me than anybody else because it turned out to be a life altering experience and a lesson well learnt for me towards the society and people. If I won’t write it down, it is going to haunt me forever.

I witnessed true side of some people, who boast about women empowerment on one hand, and on the contrary make a woman follow disturbing rituals that should not have been existing at all in current times. I witnessed weaknesses of some people who are not strong enough to put their foot down for me and fight for me; forget rebelling, some people dint even speak up. For once I am ashamed that I expected something from them. I witnessed my own feminine side which is louder than I thought it is. I witnessed the empathy felt by some people who were by my side and were willing to make it easier for me. Definitely yes, it was a life changing experience, no matter how small the scale was. I now know how to tackle such situations in future if I want to avoid the embarrassment of having to fight back at the very last moment. I now know that I can speak for myself in any situation and under any circumstances. I now know that I give more importance to my self-respect and freedom of choice than any damn ritual. As I said, there was a lot to learn from and yet again I am proud of myself that I did what was right for me!

At last, this is my closing thought, Have courage and be kind to yourself. Stop following baselesss rituals, nor make those follow it who do not resonate with it, just to show off in front of the society.

Peace.