Little Buddha, Milestone no. 7

Dearest Little girl,

 

Seven years ago today you chose me to be raised as a parent by you. The moment you grabbed my index finger in your new born chubby fist for the first time, I knew you had grasped my heart and soul in your iron grip.

 

As you grew each day, I was your pathway to this strange and confusing new world and you were my window into myself. You had to learn language and I had to learn to read silence, to understand the subtlety of baby burps and the softness of baby yawns, I started looking at everyday routine like food and sleep also as wonders.

 

Life is a miracle because of you, if at all I will ever come closer to the peace and wisdom the world knows as Buddha , you are that Little Buddha. In your stories and anecdotes you make me a better human being, in your imagination you give wings to my dreams, in your curious queries I learn the humility of real intelligence.

 

I am thankful the way your enriched my father’s last few years in the physical world, the way you held me together in my grief of losing a parent, how on occasions you with such natural ease became that missing parent for me.

I am amazed at how this same world I inhabit for the last almost three and a half decades seems new from your perspective, how you make me feel meaningful and loved unconditionally.

 

Dear girl, I am eternally grateful for being your parent, co-learner, friend and student.

 

 

Be yourself. Always ask your questions, never shy away from your core, let your light shine whatever the odds. Never be scared from following your instincts, no matter how against the grain these are. Love yourself-body and soul. Keep the warmth,compassion and enthusiasm alive and keep sprinkling your stardust on your mamma.

Happy 7th Birthday angel !!

Little one and her #isms

I have a little curious mind
whose queries never end
and to catalogue those
I made a hashtag
#priyamvadaisms
and I often see it trend

so here are a few of her gems of wisdom:
*****************************************
I thought I knew my languages well
before I was put to this
It began with now/नाव
the latest queries are ugly/अगली ,key/की, bail/बेल, cub/कब

*****************************************************
P casually while doing homework: Mumma what do we exercise in an exercise book -mind or hand ?
************************************************************
P : mumma does God know clay moulding?
me: why do u ask that baby?
P:because there are so many shapes of leaves abd all different greens.
Me : yes so it must be a huge clay kit.
P : yes and does God need his mom's help to do all this....
Me: (wondering where did that come from)may be
*******************************************************

Scene: Neighbourhood wedding band party are dressing up the mare in the parking.
P: Mumma is this a girl horse m-a-r-e mare?
me: yes baby !
P: Why is that boy bad touching her?
me: no he is not ,he is helping her getting dressed for the wedding....
P: oh ! then its okay !

***********************************************
P: Mumma is Malala brave because she got hurt by a bullet or because she fights for sending all girls to school?
Me : I guess both baby.
P: Mumma I think Malala studied well and that made her brave, which means intelligence is brave and bullet is not brave.
***************************************************
P( after watching a flower with hybrid colors) : Mumma ,where is God's paint shop?
me: well God does not need to buy paints.
P: okay ......because he has magic hands !!

*****************************************
The little one talks to me fascinated about her navel and mine being attached and asks," where is the um-b-li-cal cord now mummy? And I tell her now we have an invisible cord that binds our hearts and not our navels. She smiles, I know I am home, for now, in this moment. The journey pauses, smiles, resumes.

*********************************************

P: ( while discussing living and non-living things) mumma a baby grows out of mumma-papa, a baby cow from her parents,a baby plant from a tree or its seeds, so they are living.
Me: yes you have got it now baby.
P: but mumma poor Baabushka (that is her Matryoshka doll)has dolls in her tummy but is non-living.
...

Me:(trying to choose my words carefully)because they are not her babies some toy maker made them.
P: and also because she has no feelings she is non-living.
Me left wondering if that would be scientifically correct or not. Poet's daughter for sure in the making.

**************************************************
P: Mumma what is my religion ?
Me: What do you think religion is baby?
P: praying and being a good person.
Me: so who do you pray to?
P: long list ABCD (all kinds of spiritual and religious figures) and trees and almighty....

Me: and are you a good person?
P: (thoughtfully) yes , I think so mumma.
Me: So it means your religion is humanity.
P: okay H-U-M-A-N-I-T-Y.Sounds good mumma.
**************************************************





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Blessing of a Human Question Bank

My little girl is the perfect extrovert revenge by life on both her introvert parents. Apart from her apparent love for reading, story-telling   and being a quiet child happy with herself, she is a people's person to the core.

 

So we were not surprised when even at such a  young age she had an extremely warm and friendly relationship with everyone in the family and extended family that she met.

 

A particular trait that stood out was her incessant tirade of queries and questions about everything. So much so that I often call her my human question bank.

 

She shares little anecdotes about her and make the keep asking the other person to share theirs. She has dozens of supplementary questions for every query that she has, and to top it all the perseverance to be a patient listener of tales.

 

One of the people she formed a special bond with is with my father. He was 74 when she was born and by the time she had started having meaningful conversations his health had taken a dip, resulting in frequent irritability and some age-related bedimming of memory.

 

But he was the most peaceful when he was with her. She would put him at ease and they spent hours huddled in a blanket sharing anecdotes about friends and incidents. Some of his stories  going long back to a pre-partition childhood in now Pakistan.

 

Three months after she turned six he passed away. She was my pillar of strength and as I was trying to come to terms with this new life without him ,I was surprised, how she knew details about his childhood that even I didn't- like his first bicycle was red, his younger brother had bitten his ear bad enough for a couple of stitches just to snatch a few mangoes, the boy who taught him to swim in the Jhelum was a Sikh.

 

Three of my four grandparents were alive for many more years than her brief six years with her Nana and still I don't know as much about their childhood, their memories with their siblings and the like.

 

I am glad my  aaj-kal-ka-baccha had the time and the patience for all those questions to him. I am glad she was so involved in my father's last years and that she has created so many fond memories with him.

 

So while most of the world complains about #AajKalKeBacche , I call mine my personal little Buddha, who is an amazing teacher and co-learner in this master class called life.



“This blogger contest is supported by Kid Social Shell, a unique digital parenting platform with 11 gaming-learning apps. Use it play 3D nursery rhymes, counting number games, shapes games, fun math worksheets, coloring games and more!”

G- Grandparent/Grandchild (in the memory of my late father)

G

 

Blogging from A to Z Challenge [April 2015]

 

 

She knew him

for six brief years

so I presumed

she would have

only baby memories

 

toys, candies

stories, mischiefs

 

but I was surprised

how she knew

so much about

his childhood

his likes and dislikes

the details she recalls
about his 1947 tales
anecdotes of his work life
his friends

his wrinkled hands
combing his white hair
random Punjabi words
he would sometimes use

their last phone chat
the last kiss
 on his forehead
saying the final bye
she tells me
she whispered
"I love you Nana*"

and now she says
she will be him for me
and I know
souls live on
as residue
in other souls
they have loved

a grandparent lives on
in his only grandchild.

*Hindi word for maternal Grandfather

 

My issues with DORAEMON and similar SHOWS

I am blessed to be the parent of a child who loves to sing, dance, read, role play and paint much more than she does the 24 x 7 cartoon channels.

Moms tell me horror tales about how kids won't eat, sleep or get ready for school without one of their animated friends constantly on the screen.

Often we analyse the effect of cartoons on children regarding their impact on reduced attention spans, violent behaviour and self control but we fail to realise how they would affect our kids social behaviour as well as their gender sensitivity.

Me and my child watch a show called Doraemon sometimes and I find so many things about it that are worthy of criticism and evaluation.

What the show is about?

If you are uninitiated into the world of contemporary cartoon channels and their shows let me tell you that Doraemon is a robo-cat from the 22nd Century capable of pulling out gadgets at random from his pocket, mostly to help and rescue to  his kid owner, Nobita.

This is the basic format of the show where a cowardly and careless Nobita keeps getting into trouble , and his mechanised friend Doraemon has to come up with a weird solution in the form of a strange gadget to set things right.

Courtesy : Google Images

Issues

• Nobita detests homework, fails in all his tests and hides the test papers every time. Certainly not an ideal we would want our young kids to emulate. He is basically a pathetic role model for a child who then seeks impossible solutions with the help of a robot.

• All the other characters in the show are the usual stereotypes  namely the bully, his follower, the hysterical teacher, the shouting mother, the carefree father. All adults in the show are also flawed and are always seen as either rebuking or giving in. The mother in particular is only expected to slog all day and "keep the family happy" whatever that means.

• The flawed vision of life portrayed is very straightforward. Conflicts get resolved every time, good wins, evil loses and  the hero with whom the kids identify the most is always right, hardly how life really pans out to be.

• All the little girl characters are portrayed in a hugely regressive manner and are wide-eyed, feminine and only good at baking cookies. They never are naughty or strong and always look up to the boys for help . Hardly a feminist ideal for my girl or even little boys who may think girls never take the lead in life, they are only supposed to support and remain BEHIND a successful boy and man later in life.

• The cultural context of the show is completely out of place and the bad HINGLISH into which these are dubbed does not teach our kids anything at all other than dragging their words and raising their voice.

Now some of you may argue that this cartoon was created in the Japan of the 70s so its contextual to that time and place, but my 21st century child is viewing this nonsense sometimes and most of her friends are viewing it every day. Will it not affect their world view?

 

 

We regret the regressive speech, costumes, storylines  and settings in TV soaps , I think its time we look at cartoon shows critically and choose wisely.
I would say NEVER ever let your kid watch any of these if at all they do without parental guidance so that we can help them differentiate between good and bad in realistic terms.

A few more lessons from my daughter

She is all of 5 years and a bundle of energy that I often struggle to match with, but she is my personal powerhouse of wisdom and life lessons. When life is looking down from all fronts I look up to her my little Buddha to show me the way, and as if she understands this need and during those phases we have some amazing conversations about life and its accessories.

In the last few days she has come up with many insights, I keep writing these down just to archive them for her and for me.

 

So recently my daughter taught me :

• to relook at Rani Jhansi as also a victim of the system that idealised her only to sacrifice her young life at the altar of so called duty.
• to describe death in terms of how pencil shavings can never make a whole pencil again.
• age is no barrier by telling me that she is my father's sister now beside being his granddaughter because all his siblings have passed away
• to tell me that freedom is precious because those who are not free are never happy. She thought the birds in the sky are better than the ones in a cage because these can fly to find their own dinner :)

 

@35 a future calls me mom

beyond the customary wishes
the genuine prayers
some surprises
and the words
is a vast silence

the no noise zone
where I converse
with "I"

where the uncomfortable questions
are asked loudly
where the truth and lies
are sifted

and a self emerges and merges
into unfamiliar shapes

where I delve into
the stagnant murky waters
of the past
and come up gasping

because a future
calls me mom.


 

Of the purest friendship....

Ella and Priyamvada in school ( personal pic)

the purity of your emotions
the affection
you share unconditionally

your words of love
gestures of care
the bond you share

FRIEND is not a mere word
when I see you together
God bless you angels !

Tooth Saga

I'll make you believe in tooth fairies
in stories of happiness
of replacements
and the flow of life

but how will I ever
tell you
your learning
is my lesson too
because I don't remember
the ones from
my own childhood

you can sow the tooth
and I'll sow memories

hoping for
permanent replacements !

Teachers day gratitude

On the eve of teachers day I want to remember my many wonderful teachers ,who are all responsible for any goodness or intelligence that I have and all my drawbacks remain because I probably couldn't learn/unlearn fully.

• Mrs.Malhotra from Kindergarten for letting me be -cry, paint, write, sing  and always smile at me !
• Mrs.Dey from class III or IV , to introduce me to fiction.
• Ms.Chauhan from class VI for teaching me the value of discipline and making me strong.
• Mrs.Kurian from class VIII for the patient algebra and trigonometry lessons and reconnecting after so long.
• Mrs.Sharma from class IX-X for telling me - you write well !
• Ms.Oberoi from my first class in college ,for making me fall in love with poets, novelists and dramatists.
• Mrs. Saraswat for recognising my Hindi potential.
• Mrs.A.Sharma for caring to notice whenever I was low.
• Ms.Dewan for being there for me even when I never took any of her courses.
• Mrs.Singh and Mrs. Sharma in Himachal university for being constantly supportive.
• Ms. Minhas in Panjab University for egging me on to a journey into literature and discourse that still continues.
• Mrs.Jaidka in PU for being so wonderful, mom-like then and now.
• Mr. Nayar for being the role model.

and as the cliché goes MUMMY for being my first teacher, PAPA for teaching me to be a fighter always, dear HUSBAND for being a good co-learner in parenting and life, all my FRIENDS( the list is long) for sharing their lives and experiences with me and PRIYAMVADA ,my little one for being the most selfless guru whose teachings are simple but most profound.

माँ - बेटी - नानी

आज फिर यादें
खंगाली हैं
और स्मृति के
स्थिर स्रोतों से
माँ की हज़ार बातें
नयी हो आई हैं

कैसे माँ की आवाज़
बदल जाती
जब तार वाले फ़ोन से
वो अपनी माँ से
बतियाती

अपने गाँव की
दहलीज़ पर
हमेशा माथा टेकती
अपने स्कूल को देखकर
मुस्काती

कभी चपातियाँ
सेकते -सेकते
पहाड़ी गाने गुनगुनाती
और कभी
चाय के साथ
खुद भी गुस्से में उफनती जाती

अब माँ की आवाज़
में वो खनक गुम है
अब उनके जीवन
में आपाधापी नहीं
पर शायद
अकेलापन है

बेटी से हर माँ
की तरह
वो भी कर  लेती है
मुझसे हज़ार बातें

पर बेटी बनकर
माँ से बातें
नहीं कर पाने का
एकाकीपन है

फिर अचानक
फ़ोन पर सुनती हूँ
दो आवाजें
वही खनक ,वही जादू
मेरी माँ से बतियाती मेरी बेटी
कहाँ मेरी नानी से कम है !!

ROOTS AND BRANCHES

"India lives in several centuries at the same time."  - Arundhati Roy

This could well be true for all of us as people in this mish-mash of social melange`.
Whenever I think about the ancient Indian philosophical concept of Shakti, And whenever I celebrate the power and essence of womanhood I think of two women:

MY MOM & MY DAUGHTER

Both of them have made a huge difference to my worldview and have chiseled the woman ,the person that I am today and will grow to become as long as I live.

MUMMY- I was an only child and in 70s and 80s when I was growing up I did understand how much and how many times my mother confronted people,mostly friends and acquaintances who would pity her and my dad for not having a son or give unwanted suggestions to my mother to train me well in lady-like etiquette and household tasks.

As you would have guessed by now I was never forced by her into the kitchen or asked to dress in a certain way.I was very active in theater during college and rehearsals would often get late,but she once told me she had no reason to keep checking the clock because she trusted me completely.

Despite my father's and the extended family's apprehensions she stood by me like a rock to support my decision to move out of my small town for higher education and later when I chose my own life-partner.

She walked several kilometers as a young girl to get to a secondary school and hence instilled in me huge respect and value for education.She chose to work as a teacher to take the light to more girls like herself and even today is vociferous about girls being the hope for a better and sensitive society.

PRINCESS- The moment I conceived her I knew I had become a better person in some way,I cared more for environment,for other kids,for health,for music.

When she was first placed in my lap I knew I was now stronger than ever before,in this male-dominated setup I had a little girl to raise to be a good human being and overcome the gender stereotypes that she might encounter at all stages.

When she started learning I realized my education was not yet complete,her queries made me search for newer answers for better answers.She made me realize the special intangible gifts my mom had given me- my confidence,my self-respect and my dreams.

Today and forever I hope I live up to being the link between these two inspiring ladies ,one who has lived a long graceful journey and the other who is just beginning hers.

LOVE YOU MUMMY ! LOVE YOU PRIYAMVADA !

This entry is contesting at CELEBRATING GIRLS,CELEBRATING WOMEN

Blogoversary week Special - FIVE

The snapped limbs

of a rag doll,

or a lost toy

the missing piece

of a picture puzzle

or the mislaid

hair clip

from a shiny pair

Her sanguine eyes

look at me

as if I am the

goddess of her small things

However behind

my reassuring smile

I measure my 

fearful fragility

and wait for the inevitable

as she will grow up

to see my

shivering

human inability !

Blogoversary week special- ONE

You taught me that

even when our eyes are closed

our minds should be open.

You taught me that

ever day is an opportunity

to live afresh and learn with zeal.

You taught me to find

joy in the little things,

to smile at the shining wrapper

even when the chocolate is finished.

You taught me new colour schemes

the need to see things the other way.

You taught me to react 

just to the moment

and have no prejudice or baggage.

You ,my daughter,my teacher

who loves to play my mamma

you have taught me life all over.

HAPPY BIRTHDAY PRIYAMVADA

Thanks for being such an inspiration.

You are my hero.

BIRTHDAY MUSINGS

Some day you will be old enough to start reading fairy tales again. - C.S. Lewis

Words have always been my friends,and stories my world.Initially a compulsion imposed by our almost solitary house on the premises of my father's work place- an electricity station and later out of choice because words talked to me better than people did.

But for the last four years I have been struggling to find a word or a few words to define the moment when I first witnessed that blinking dot on a screen and the doctor said," That's your baby's heartbeat."

How do you define happiness,anxiety,excitement,fear,love,panic all shooting at once through your heart? Probably the closest a word can define all of this is "overwhelmed".The months after that and then the four years with Priyamvada have all been overwhelming in one way or the other,smiles of all variety and tears of happiness,despair and sometimes just fatigue.

Why I write this today just two days before her 4th birthday because I guess there are so many moments every day,every year that memory might not preserve all of them accurately,so here are a few in no particular order.Some of my choicest moments with my lovely daughter in the last four years,lets see how many I get instantly:

• answering her questions- can ants see planes in the air?, why do you make circle rotis?,who switches off the sun?,where is barbie's mom?,why is red not green? and on and on and on............
• having her baby talc smell close to me
• matching clips and socks with dresses
• hoarding everything from plastic lids to broken toys and calling them "my stuff "
• making stories about food,diapers,medicines and everything else
• singing songs with garbled lyrics and rhymes with wrong words confidently
• dancing in abandon to any kind of beat
• pausing in the middle of a busy work hour and see her smiling back,just that instant
• she becoming "chhoti mama" and I am the naughty baby 
• saying O wow !!! at every little thing said,heard and seen
• holding her hand and knowing she is mine forever
• her classifying everything as boy/girl despite all efforts to break stereotypes
• naming all her soft toys with her
• less sleep,less me-time,less leisure,less work but a bigger heart,thanks to her !
• trying to find the chef part of my soul to make her good meals and appetizing tiffins
• making a code language with my husband to say things that she need not or should not hear
• waiting for her to come back from school every day
• holidays with her,looking at same places and same people with new eyes
• giving her my things- books,chunky jewelry,pencils,lip balms.....
• my husband's special smile when she says- papa I am like you !
• watching my parents as grandparents loving her more than me- their only child

As i pause and look up she is right there across the room,playing doctor and I am the next three patients so will have to go but I hope she reads this some day,understands and knows I am because she is.HAPPY BIRTHDAY NUMBER 4 PRIYAMVADA !!!

GAMES

the simple joy
of cracking open
peanuts on her own

a cardboard box
becoming a bus
for paper friends

My little God
and her new games !!

PRIYAMVADA- 3

You were the
subtle sudden flutter
of an anticipated joy

when I first felt you

blurry-eyed
when my shaking hands
held you for the first time
I was all pulp inside

Time melted
and everything that was
or could ever be
became you

Today I see you
a warm,happy kid
at another milestone

I am thankful
that you chose me !

I am proud...yet again !

In her tiny steps                                         
I had never imagined
the grace of a victorious queen

but thats how she walked into
that room full of strangers
with a smile unusual for
a clumsy toddler

her composed demeanour
floored my anxiety
almost instantly

it was time to learn
another lesson
in self-reliance,faith and trust

An unconventional
first day at school
sans any flare up or hitch

Priyamavada you didn't give me
a customary tale to tell
but who's complaining
you just gave me another day
when I am so proud of you !