Mother of Mine

I've made many attempts to post this article but somehow was waiting for a special occasion and many have passed - Mothers Day, Woman's Day, Teacher's Day and even my mum's B'day.  Well... she is the Iron Lady of my life, my first teacher, my guide, the source of  many inspirations - She is my Mother...Everyday is her day. I am the daughter of Nirmala. 

I'm sure many of us hold our parents in high regard.  This post isn't going to talk about why my mum is most special in the world... Its about She IS the MOST SPECIAL person in My World! She is My God - The Creator of me. 

Of the thousand memories that I have of my Mum I'd like to share this one incident.  As a child I imagine I was quiet difficult and stubborn.  My mum has always led by example.  She has never forced me to just blindly do as told but encouraged asking questions, thinking and always reasoned to convince me.

There was once this time when got a note from a teacher for not doing my homework and had to get my parents to sign.  I thought may be I should not bother them with such petty tasks and forged my mother's signature.  Next day in school I showed the note to the teacher - I wasn't a great forger and she realized I had signed it. I'm a horrible liar - I can't lie for nuts! She asked me if I had done it and I nodded a yes.

The teacher took me to the School Headmistress's office.  Any kid would be nervous I guess but I was thinking My god what drama over homework not done! They really need to chill! So anyway, that day I went home with a note from the Headmistress!  Now I was nervous, homework not done would still have been easy to explain but how to I start to explain a forgery!? By evening I managed to muster up some courage and handed her the note not knowing what to expect.  She read it and then asked me if I had done. Then she wanted to see the copy and asked how I did it and then... Wait for it.... She smiled! Then she says.. "Its OK, these are those once-in-a-life things. I had done it once too when I was in school. Just don't do it again"  and I was off the hook!  

You can only imagine what a WOW moment that was.... I left thinking I have been blessed with a really cool Mom! I never again did repeat it, also when I think back I know some other people might have spanked the kid for this - not doing homework, forging notes where is this kid headed.  It was the 'reaction' that changed everything. She never raised her hand on us, she could always make us understand by explaining the situation. But more importantly I think it was also because she remembered what it was like to be a kid. This is also a good parenting lesson, someday when I have kids I know this is one of the stories I will be sharing with them :)

She used to call me a day dreamer. Yes, that's where I first heard this word I was all of five!  She would sometimes consult me silly matters but its very important, which I don't think many parents do (at least not many from my time).  They just tell the kids what to do and are not really bothered about their opinion. But that is important, it made me feel valued.  She taught me what the right thing to do is but the choice was always mine. She has only passed good things to her children.  I owe all my successes to her.  But the failures would only be my responsibility, faults that I have are my own for its only because I forgot her lessons.  

I possibly can't write everything in one post but to sum it up.  Nothing we ever do in life to try to repay the debt to our mother is ever going to be enough.  Selfless love like a mother's is something that can never ever be replaced or repaid.  

My Mother, I will forever be indebted and grateful to you for everything!

What Was Your Dream?

When I was young (like 5-6 years old) I hated it when people asked me this one question "What do you want to become when you grow up?" I those days there were just a couple professions I had heard of - Doctor or Engineer! I would say Doctor only because most of my classmates said that. I knew I did not really want to become a Doctor or an Engineer but I was not aware of any other options.  I thought may be things will change and I will do something different.

Sometime later when my Dad and I used to stargaze and Mum told me about the man on the moon (Neil Armstrong and Rakesh Sharma the first Indian in space ) I dreamed of becoming an Astronaut. I actually  had dreams of floating among stars and walking on the Moon :P I remember there was news of UFOs and I wondered what would happen if I were ever kidnapped :P  Later I learnt that Astronauts need to have a strong mathematical base - I really HATED Math so much that I changed my mind and gave up my astro dream.

When I was 10 I attended my first proper science class.  I liked biology and wanted to become a scientist. Around the same time I used to watch Captain Planet - it was a show that taught kids about pollution and how we can save our planet (Click This Wiki Link to know about him). I was totally into it and learnt the title song.  I think I still remember it - Captain Planet, he's our hero, gonna take pollution down to Zero.  He's our powers magnified .... something something and then ended with We're the Planeteers, You can be one too. 'Cause saving our planet is the thing to do Looting and polluting is not the way, Hear what Captain Planet has to say: "The Power is Yours!!" :D and even made notes of all the GK they shared (I actually wrote down the points!) that was a really good show and I miss it sometimes. So yeah, I wanted to do something for the planet and dreamt about inventing something that will save the world from global warming. Here also again.. Science students were required to be good at Math! So numbers made me change my mind again.

When I was about 12 I wrote my first poem and wrote about 49 more! :) Yep.. I wrote about anything I remember I had written one about the seed germination process.  Then something bad happened, I had a made a book of my poems and given it to someone to read.. and they lost it! Can you believe it!? They just LOST it!! That hurt me so much I had written soo many poems and this person just loses it! I cried for days over it and then decided I will never write again (Well I'm still writing now! So something nice happened and I later changed my mind  :D) But around this time I realized I could write and thought of becoming a writer too.  

When I was preparing for my board exams I had decided I would be going for Arts and majoring in Literature and Psychology (Yes I'm serious!) I wanted to be a Journalist or something to do with Psychology (I was interested in reading people).  I had even bought the admission form of the Arts college. Now, my Mum was sneaky - she asked me one little question "Do you like to write short answers or lengthy ones that span pages and pages?" I said Short ones.  She explained that arts students have to really write pages and pages for their exams while Commerce students just need to create one balance sheet or solve a problem and they get full marks.  She also said its not like Math and I would be fine. Well, that was all it took and I eventually ended up in a Commerce college and specializing  in Management. I had no idea then as to what I would be exactly doing for a profession.

When I was in college I came across this one Astrology book by Cherio and for some time I even thought about Astrology (nice substitute for not making to Astronomy :P) but this was short lived again due to all the numbers and calculations! I have a mental block around numbers.

I dreamed about a lot of things as a child but today I find myself somewhere else.  I hated math and numbers and avoided it so much that the course of my dreams changed and today I'm working for a financial company :P I don't regret it though. My work is nothing to do with numbers :P :D - I love systems and people interaction and my current job gives me that.  I think I am one of those people who are happy with with their job (most of the times :P)...

But, Zindagi abhi bohot baaki hai :) My love for writing is alive (I like to think) through this blog :) I guess somehow through all the things that we dream of the real passion stays alive no matter what. 

The Lotus Pond - Short Story

It was the month of June and the rainy season had already begun.  It was also the time when the new school year begins.  Eight year old Chandu used to walk to school with his Mum and everyday they passed by this pond brimming with lotuses in full bloom.  He had never seen a lotus pond this closely and would wonder if he could go and may be pick a couple of lotuses.  The other children in his class would get flowers for his teacher sometimes.  This was perfect he thought, his teacher Miss Brenda would love the flowers and may be even appreciate his gesture if she knew they were handpicked.

When he shared his idea with his Mum the reply was a stern NO.  She explained that it's not so easy to get to the lotuses and there is a good chance he might even get stuck in the swampy rut. Its very difficult to get things out of that muck and that its like quicksand if he were to step into it he will go lower than expected. Chandu simply thought it was a grown up story she was making to keep him away.  After all how difficult can it be? The flowers are sooo close he need not even step in the muck and get his feet dirty.  He was sure he could reach them if he could only stretch out a little bit.  There was just one problem - his Mum would no way let him even try. He had to devise a plan.

Few days later he woke up earlier than usual and got ready much before time.  His Mum wondered what had gotten into her otherwise slumber-boy whom she had to coax to get out of bed.  When asked he excitedly replied that he was eight years old and was confident he could walk to school on his own. He tried his best to sound honest and was able to convince her.  He happily set off to put his plan into action.  He thought he would tell his Mum of this little adventure once he returns home and prove to her that he was able t get the flowers and without hassles.

When he arrived at pond he scanned the bank and saw that none of the flowers were close enough for him to reach without stepping in.  He had decided he would get the flowers and had woken up early and convinced his mother.  There was no way he would possibly proceed further without his prize.  He decided he would go in.  He moved a step closer to the pond - he had never been this close to it before - and he put his left foot in.  The cold sluggish mud felt yucky against his foot and he realised the ground was not as solid as he assumed it to be. Mother was right but now he could not back out, he was just one step away from the lotuses. Next the right foot went in, he reached out and pulled out five lotuses.  He was very much pleased with his achievement as he thought that was a cake walk.

He turned around and stepped out right leg first and realised the slipper was missing off his foot. He stepped back in to find his slipper and dug his foot in the swamp only to feel more muck.  The slipper was nowhere, he started to panick and tried to first get himself out.  Mums words were now ringing in his ears and he was scared.  He managed to step out of the pond but sans his slippers. He could not go to school without them.  The lotuses he was holding now seemed worthless, he threw them back in the water and started walking towards home. He was afraid but wasn't sure what was worse - his mothers wrath since he did not listen or that he had lost his slippers and was now walking home barefoot. 

He realised the people coming from the opposite direction were awkwardly staring at him because he looked like a poor little lost kid - dressed in uniform and backpack on his shoulders with naked muddy feet and a sad look on his face.  He felt weak and dejected and could not believe he had actually thrown away the lovely flowers that he had picked. One recurring thought in his mind - his mother was right, only if he had listened.

Big Bird

As much as I try to write about recent events I keep going back to my childhood which I think was more exciting and eventful.  Not because there so many great adventures but because when I look back now and remember how differently I saw the world then and how all the stories I read influenced me.  I was a story lover ever since I can remember.

So today I thought of sharing this incident that occurred when I was about seven or eight.  I grew up in a small town that had vast field lands and a small streams running by.  It was a safe and peaceful place to grow up in, as a kid I would wander off into the fields or play fishing in the small stream with my friends.  Some of them were skilled at fishing and caught more than a couple fish. I don't remember being able to get any but i do faintly remember to clumsily drop a fish back that my friend had caught!! I was only allowed to hold the small jar of water to hold the fish.

During summers our little gang would wander into the fields and spend an entire day gathering raw mangoes or cashews.  We would climb the low branches of trees and sit in them or sometimes make a swing out of rope and cloth. Those were some days!

Once upon a summer evening I wandered into the fields alone I was bored sitting at home and decided to take a walk all by myself.  When I was in the middle of the farmland I happened to look up and saw a huge bird perched up on the coconut tree.  It had a long neck without feathers and a bent bent beak and huge wings - It was a Vulture.  I realized it was bigger than than me and I froze.  I did not want to move lest I should attract the attention of the bird.  I remembered a story I had read some time ago it was about this merchant lying to his friend that his some had been carried away by the Vulture.  The story did say that he had lied to his friend but when I saw the bird and that it was bigger than me I seemed like a possibility.  I was alone and wouldn't be able to call for help if anything happened.  I stood there for a while without making a move hoping the bird would fly away.  It was still sitting perched up on the tree.

I decided I couldn't wait there any longer so I started taking a slow small step backward while my eyes were fixed on the bird and then another step backward and a third step back. Then I turned around and ran till I was in the house.  I told my mum about the huge vulture i saw and if I hadn't run I might have been carried away and that the story might have been partially true. My mum  quietly heard me out and then burst out laughing telling me no matter how short I was the vulture wouldn't have attacked me as they devour only dead creatures.  I refused to believe that and imagined I was lucky to have escaped... until i grew up a little more :)

Chewing Gum and Mumps

I think we all remember the first time we did / learnt something.  Remember the first step you took? - umm... okay not that... That is saved in our parent's memories.  So the first time I rode the cycle all on my own,  the first time I forged my mum's signature (this was also my last time, its a story I will post  some other day), the first time I had soda (yep, even before I had cola), making Rasna on my own, my first camping trip... There are soo many firsts.

When you are child you have your own perception of the world and how it works.  You tend to make your own inferences based on what you see or have heard someone talk.  When I was six there was a fete held at school and they had this one section where a couple of girls were playing a guitar and singing.  They had dressed up funny - wearing a chain of tomatoes around the neck, green chillies as earring, a straw hat and bright red lipstick.  You must know from my previous posts how short I was and to me this giant woman in this description was very scary.  I had heard stories about witches, their crooked noses and pointy hats.  So when I came to this particular stall saw the girls singing...  One of girls came very close to me and smiled (she was being nice) but what I saw was a giant witch from the stories coming alive and smiling the wicked smile at me (like I'm gonna take you away!).  I even thought her face looked green (given my imaginative mind)! I let out a scream and ran from the stall.  That was the first time I had encountered a witch (so I thought then). When I reached home I told mum the story between sobbing and sniffing and she explained to me that witches exist but only in stories and the girl was only trying to be nice.

The reason I mentioned the above incident was to give an example how I interpreted things from what I had heard and imagined.  The real story for the post is about chewing gum and what I thought happens when you munch on too much of it.  (I think you're guessing what must have happened).  I remember the first time I had chewing gum, before that I only had candy that is chewed and swallowed.  My Mum had got this packet of Chiclets (remember those?) and she instructed me - Only chew it DON'T swallow.  When I put it in my mouth the minty taste was almost bitter and I had that whats-this-I'm-eating expression but I soon got the hang of it. I think I did swallow it the first time (bet everyone does that).

Mum would always only give me one gum at a time and I wanted to have more.  One evening when  she was out I flicked the packet of gum from her bag and put five pieces in my mouth all at a time. I hopped out of the house and into the nearby garden and coolly sat chewing on the now-big piece of gum feeling glad about successfully achieving my target. I munched on the piece for a long time.  I returned home after couple of hours of chewing was complete, by now my jaws were starting to hurt.  At night I came down with a fever and next morning woke up with sore jaws.  My cheeks had swollen and I could not open or move my mouth., not even to speak. Mum took me to the doctor who diagnosed Mumps (An acute, inflammatory, contagious disease characterized by swelling of the salivary glands. This disease, mainly affects children)

I assumed I had contracted it because of the stunt I had pulled off the previous evening.  Thought it was God's way of punishing me for the crime I had committed - not listening to your mother. I did not dare say a word of it to my Mum.  After that day for about six years I stopped chewing gum altogether because I had imbibed this strong idea that chewing gum causes mumps. It was a case of co-incidence and naïveté coming together.  Years later my Mum talked about the time I had the mumps and it was at that time I mentioned about the flicking act and why I had stopped chewing gum.

When people talk about the things that leave an impressions on kids and what huge impact it can make I remember this incident and think - Indeed!

Heaven and Butterflies...

Do you ever think about the time when you were just a kid and remember how huge the world looked?

I was a short little thing - stood usually second or third in the school row. I remember holding my mum's hand and going to school... she was soo tall I had to look up like at the sky to see her face.  When I was in a room with adults seemed like I was in the land of giants.  I was a very stubborn and a happy child known to be a day dreamer since those days!  My teacher complained about my day dreaming to my mum but that did not stop me.  I must say I am lucky to have such a cool mum :D she did reprimand me but never discouraged me about dreaming. She would after that day often tease me by calling me a Day-dreamer.

I am still able to recollect some of the discussions that happened between my friends and I when we were in the elementary class.  There was this one time (we were 6 year old) we were standing in line for the assembly and I happened to look up at the sky.  It was cloudy but in a good way that is.. it was covered with white clouds and I pointed it out to  my friend she looks up and says " Hey look, they are the steps that lead to heaven.  If you climb up you will see God waiting for you" And I in all honesty believed it, may be that is why I still remember this dialogue.  It was the first time someone outside the family had talked to me about God and heaven.

Catching Butterflies and Dragonflies at that age was nothing less than a great adventure.  This one friend taught me how to catch butterflies and also told me tales about how she caught the dragonflies and tied them with a thread and then let them lose (I know this is mean but sounded soo cool when she told me about it). Under her guidance I managed to capture a few butterflies myself and I remember the moment when I showed her my first catch... she was very proud of me :)

One time I caught a butterfly when I was on my way to school.  I used to see the butterflies everyday while I walked to school and decided that one day I would take one with me.  So I carried an empty matchbox and put the tiny creature in it. When I was in class I told my friends I had something to show them.  Almost all of them caught butterflies but no-one had ever got one in class.  The butterfly I caught was still alive so when  I opened the matchbox to show them it flew out of the box and also right out of class.  But there was a lot of excitement for those few seconds that the insect flew around.

Thinking about where I am now... No butterflies, no chats about clouds and the world does not seem so tall anymore.... Its a whole different playground... still a Play Ground :)