In Response to Reflections

Jagged though the pieces be
The indulgence doesn't seem petty
When with hope it fills our being
When memories it gives comforting.

A broken mirror many demean
But look even when broken it has its sheen
It reflects our truths manifold
It shows us perspectives earlier untold.

So shadows though we seem to chase
It is human, is it not, to participate in the race?

- Written on 24 November 2019.
- In response to a poem-post by Shakir called Reflections, which in itself seems to have been inspired by a story I shared yesterday captioned Aaina mujhse meri pehli si surat maange... 

Find Shakir's post here: https://m.facebook.com/story.php?story_fbid=10158098759389767&id=783374766 

Lost in the Kindle Maze - Tagore

Tagore's 'Kabuliwala' iconic
A story that takes us to lands scenic,
Tells of stranger-danger bias
Overcome by a child's welcoming cries,
Shows the common bonds love for family
Shared by all of humanity.

This tale we set out to search for
Publishers we found galore.
Written first in Bengali and translated into English,
Many a translation we found remiss.

Kindle seemed to be the new in-thing
And bookshops stored more of Ruskin Bond's inkings.
This 1892 public domain story found home in collections many,
Alas! publishers charged exorbitantly.

It makes one wonder what is affordability
How do we ensure for all information accessibility?
Is it to be that kindle is the way to go?
Ebooks rather than paperbacks will grow?

So perhaps we must
Give teaching a new thrust:
Include reading skills on gadgets
To ensure information reaches the masses
To be inclusive in affordability
We might need our materials to tweak.

Studies aplenty describe paper's quality
Of information in our brain's survivability.
But we need to perhaps make way for strategies
To teach retention despite processing digitally.
Perhaps we need to stop moaning about the old days,
Perhaps we need to carve out new educative ways.

Said Tagore on educating a child:
"Don't limit a child to your own learning,
For he was born in another time",
This was the Nobel Laureate's insistence:
"The highest education... makes our life
In harmony with all existence".
Today's methods rooted in mindless tradition he would deplore
He would urge us to new territories with objectivity explore.

This man, a synthesis of civilisations -
Hindu, Mohammaden and Western -
Being ever rational and respectful in disagreements,
One who lived his life on his own terms.
His copious work not available easily is a pity,
His thoughts need to be disseminated more widely.

- Written on 17 November 2019.
- In reaction to trying to find an affordable Kabuliwala to gift 40+ people in these last 03-04 days. 🙄🙄🙄

On Ayodhya Verdict - चलो मंदिर मस्जिद बनाएँ

एक कर्म का क्या खूब फल मिला
देश को दहशत में डुबाने में कौन सफल रहा।
मस्जिद गिराके मंदिर बनाओ
था मंदिर पहले यकीन दिलाओ।
कानून कहता विश्वास है सच्चा
मानो बात उसकी जिसने आतंक फैलाया ।
ना सोचो कि क्या एक गलत से दूसरा गलत धुल गया
ना मानो कि आज एक बार फिर यथार्थ को भरोसे ने झुक्लाया।
हाँ, यहि है राम भूमि, कर्म भूमी
शर्म और इंसाफ की मृत्यु श्रेणी।

- Written on 10 November 2019.
- In Response to the Ayodhya Verdict by the Supreme Court of India on 9 November 2019. 

Painting-Poesy #8: Happy Diwali 2019

Stories of resilience are often told
To give the miserable encouragement and hope.

Be it the the darkest night lit with rebellion
Lights of knowledge spearing the machiavellian
Be it the laughter of dear ones enlivening spaces
Be it the bounty shared shining through grinning faces.

Be it the spirit to say 'No to Crackers',
Be it the spirit that yearns for sparklers
Both united in wishing for all
Of peace and prosperity a steady rainfall.

So too I wish for all of us this season of joy,
May we be inclusive, wise and stronger in unity, than the new magnesium alloy. :)


- Written on 26 October 2019.
- Diwali is on 27 October 2019.
- Also on Facebook and Instagram - Facebook Link

https://m.facebook.com/story.php?story_fbid=10156261736706230&substory_index=0&id=692626229

Let the child in each of us ever be free. Joy lies therein.
- Someone must have said this. If not #AnushaLogism.

Painting-Poesy #7: Black

Black is something often reviled
With depression it does get filed,
But a person sad will tell you
Black comforts, colours hurt you.

The loudness of red is a gunshot
The cheeriness of yellow highlights your life's rot
The soft pink
Makes you your tears blink
The blue sky is bright
Seemingly indifferent to your plight
The vibrant green
Gives more than you can glean.
A failure is what these colours make you feel
In a hypersensitive state, just one is enough to deal
Black obliterates them all and yet them encapsulates
If the message is what is important, black has all that it takes.

Shhhhh, let silence be,
Ahhhh, in nothing do beauty see,
Take a deep breath, let peace in seep
Do not be afraid with friends to weep.
Lend an arm, a shoulder, an ear
Not false hopes, peddle just support against fear.
Let the sad be, do not chasten,
Do not unnecessarily recovery hasten,
It takes effort and strength, but accept
This is a process, and just your company is all they expect.

#worldMentalHealthDay #mentalhealth #Depression #Support #justbeing

- Written (and painted) on 10 October 2019.
- Why? Well it is World Mental Health Day.
- First shared on Instagram and Facebook.

Happy Ganesh Chathurthi 2019!

Vignaharta - Remover of Obstacles
But do setbacks give a sense of what else is possible?
Do they serve a function of pause and reflect?
Do they make us see in our charts, the defect?
If then, should obstacles be removed?
When there is no opposition, will we be improved?

Questions to ponder upon as we Ganesha's name invoke
Do we really want all challenges revoked?
Ganapati is also known as Vignakarta - the obstacle creator,
For the value of hurdles is known to a good educator.

The taste of failure often teaches
More than what one accomplishes.
One won't realise one's inner strength
Unless one overcomes some resistance.
One won't be truly aware of one's conviction,
Unless one is posed a contrary opinion.
One won't change and evolve in the path of progression
If one never faces a reason for course correction.

So invoke Ashrith and grant obstacles too protection,
As Amazon and Aarey are destroyed, may there be more rebellion.
And by remembering Atharv may all strive for true sagacity.
By supplicating to Anav may we peacefully actualise the bonds of humanity.

Happy Vinayagar Chathurthi!

- Written on 2 September 2019.
- Because it is Ganesh Chathurthi today. Because on these times it seems all the more necessary to have a robust opposition and ensure less smooth sailing and more course corrections :)


And because I am on Facebook -

A Response to a Response on my this post:
https://m.facebook.com/story.php?story_fbid=10156133671561230&id=692626229

But the names invoke a call to action
And perhaps we need remember the reason
Why there must be some opposition
Even as we march in the name of progression,
Let there also be a celebration
Of causes of pause and reflection.

We need all the more voices
To make us evaluate our choices.
Inclusion is key and it is within us
To listen, to speak, to respectfully discuss. :)



And a response to An Ode to Ganesha by Anjali Monteiro
https://m.facebook.com/story.php?story_fbid=10220986288990979&id=1354335878

Says Ganesha, the symbol of protest,
Born of political maneuvers this overt fest,
Know my stories to know me,
I preach not violence but peace,
Not temples, but relationships I revere,
The downfall of bullying and pettiness I steer.

I was born of my mother, adopted by my father,
But no one questions my right to my forebearer.
I am for all, I know no religion or nationality,
Buddhism, Jainism, Sinhalese, Japanese all adopt me.
I am bound to not even one name
Alas my followers often remember just my fame.
I am now just a pandal hopping game,
Donations and footfalls are all I can claim.

But know my stories to know me,
Look for meaning though, not superficiality.

Feudalism: Outdated or is it?

In response to a Facebook post by a friend/ex-colleague/thinker-philosopher. 


Hmm... wonderfully written, but it makes me ponder,
The feudal mentality seems never to falter,
The lord beckons and sudama hastens,
Revelling in whatever his benefactor sanctions,
The happy man is happy,
But what his aspirations, what reality?
When in Bengaluru he faced revile,
Did he then his dreams in dusty corner file?
Is it satisfaction or contentment or resignation or a poor comparison?
What does he provide as happiness' definition?

The feudal prince has the luxury of time to think, to strum, to write,
Another privileged then reads and decries,
Even as Mohanna and like stand ready
To serve these 'knowers' with an ear, a smile, pakodas and tea.


______________________________
In reponse to a response


Kumar Arunachal I ripped myself too. Write more. Write thus. Your writings provoke. Be provocative. Make others think through.

As I was rereading your post and I have read it a few times, my bai got me tea that I had begun brewing and then got on a call and forgot about as I logged back into Facebook to respond to some comment and then saw your post again and it got me thinking and writing.

She is happy too, my kaam wali bai, so she says. I am the privileged you refer to. The thinking pseudo-liberal classicism deriding classist practitioner. I have been following the multilple class and caste based racist reports and your post struck me, it stabbed me too, provoked me to self-examination.

So thank YOU. Keep writing. :)

Kumar Arunachal also please do not think it was shallow. It is deep. It is a honest self-exploration. I do think you were writing about Mohanna as much as your own journey of feudal expectations and feudal realities. You were being critical, but honest and sensitive.

I just feel at times, and this is also because perhaps I am spending a lot of time talking to maids and helpers amd dealing with classicist, racist mentalities at home and even service providers that I am pondering upon

What is happiness for someone never allowed to dream?
When the dreams were tailored, they would have very rigid seams?
When the material was coarse, the cutting rough?
When ragged edges were ruthlessly hidden by stitches tough?
When the cut was functional, not complimentary?
What then was one's imagination of beauty?
When just survival is both a challenge and a necessity,
What then one's idea of development versus duty?

It is something I have been trying to grapple with and felt I could share with you here, since you seem to be grappling with the other side of the coin.

What when has aplenty
What challenge then remains to be?
What when success is the platform
What act then can one perform?
What when family history
Makes one's jaw drop with glory and gory,
When repelled one is still bound
That the ties strengthen even as they confound.
What when one looks around and sees
More hope in those who should have felt misery.
What when knows not what cause has one to rebel or revel
What then is the fate of the individual?

The problem of the current well-off
Of both aspiration and deprivation complaints they are rid of.

- 27 August 2019.
- Yes these were Facebook replies, but I liked these so thought to record them here as well :)

Link to Facebook Post that triggered all this https://m.facebook.com/story.php?story_fbid=10157623256819571&id=834854570 

For Your Own Good

There is a girl. She was wed as a child into a much richer household that promised to take care of her as their own. She was reluctant. So was her guardian, but he chose to marry her off, hoping for the best. Her consent was not sought. As she demurred quietly and then loudly, her new family said they would ask her consent again, later when she was older, wiser, knew them enough (they hoped that she loved them enough) to take the decision (they hoped it was the 'right' one and she would choose them). They knew she was an asset to them. She would be an asset to anyone. She had many riches untapped, unexplored. She would be the envy of the world as a gem in their crown. They looked forward to polishing her. 

They paid for her education and her food. She created some resources for herself, but it was not enough to sustain her. They allowed her to stay on in her home town (not that she was going to be a willing resident of theirs if they had pushed, anyway). They also paid for guards to protect her. Well they said protect, she said restrict. You get the point. She grew into a slightly difficult person with more contradictions and complexities than most.

She had a rental. It was more like a hovel to many others, but to her it was her kingdom. She had to share it with others and she cleverly ousted a few from the place supposedly to make more room for herself. The family heard of this and protested. Said she was unwilling to settle in the HUGE mansion they had saying she wanted a small place and then obviously was showing off her aspirations for a larger place. Why did she not join them? Together they could be happy. She again objected. She said she was sure they were not bad, but she was not sure that they were good for her.

She would rather severe ties if they needed her to stay in the family mansion. She was happy with her hovel. She would carry their name, but she wanted to lead her own life. Without their interference.

She had friends. Some friends the family did not like and they curtailed her friendships. She accepted the limitations with some reluctance. She was not sure the family was not right. But she resented being told what to do.

Periodically, there were talks between her and the family. They insisted she belonged with them in their space, she resisted the inclusion. She termed it intrusion. She had ambitions. The family said they could help her fulfill them. She wanted, oh how she yearned! But she was afraid of being stripped of her identity. She saw the family as good to many. But she also saw how they treated the disobedient within them. The ones with contrary opinions who voiced them vociferously. She had so many, many such contrary opinions. And she did not want to be beaten up. She came to think 'help' was a 'bribe' to get her to accept the family. She was not sure the family would stay that good to her once she became theirs wholly. She wanted to retain her semi-independence.

Now the family was getting impatient. They had waited years. They had expended resources on her. They had shown how tolerant they were, how broadminded. But she just was not seeing. She refused to see.

They decided she had to be made to see. They took over her rental agreement. They took her passport away. They blocked her bank accounts. They took away her cell phone. They ensured she had no resource she could tap into. They locked her down and then told her you are ours. We have done so much for you, high time you learnt your place. We will do well by you, but you need to live by our terms. Learn to accept. Rejoice. 

The story ends here for now. It is for each of us to decide if the family or the girl are in the wrong or in the right. What would you do if you were that girl? What would have been your advise to the family?

What if the girl's name were Kashmir? Does your answer change? 

— Written on 11 August 2019.

— My post on 'At Crossroads' led to some debate on FB in public and much more on private chats and messages. My post was also tagged as 'against community standards'. :) Some threatening messages of how I need to lose my Indian citizenship and perhaps I am a Pakistani at heart also followed. All on messenger or DMs rather than on the public posts.

It led me to question why is it that we do not want to hear a contrary opinion? I reread How to Get Power on TED Ideas and the idea of story stuck me anew. This story had already been brewing in my mind as a metaphor. But now I decided to not just let it roam the empty hallways in my mind and pen it down. Hence this post. 

Painting-Poesy #6 At Crossroads

The past few days I have tried, 

As I failed, I have cried. 

I tried to understand the rejoice, 

I failed to understand the choice.

The majority celebrates, I am told,

A minority is all that objects, does not let go.

I have heard this often in my life:

When being raped is passed off as a duty of a wife, 

When being beaten up toughens up a child

When being domesticated is better for a creature of the wild.

A woman's desires are suppressed, the majority is happy,

An artist's dreams are repressed, the majority is happy,

A state's existence wiped out, the majority is happy,

Democracy bows to authority, the majority is happy. 

Dissent has been vilified, 

Questions have been nullified , 

Joys have danced on fears, 

There has been little sympathy for tears. 

Consent: how do we practice it? 

Does 'right' supercede it? 

Do to 'power' we accede it? 

Can only the 'majority' exercise it? 

We have often spoken up, spoken against, 

It may take time but dialogue is the way, 

Said peace leaders when they held sway. 

Even their dissenters they allowed space. 

But new times are here, 

It is aggression that does steer, 

A contrary voice is shouted down, 

All that is venerated is one with the crown. 

I have tried, tried really hard

To understand the facts and the farce

But I fail to see how secrecy

And muffling voices can be a democracy.

The 'majority' opinion counts, no doubt,

But do we then contrary opinions just oust?

#Kashmir #India #Democracy #Consent

- Written on 9 August 2019.

- For many days the idea of democracy as seen through the lens of what has been happening with J&K and Article 370 has been on my mind as I grappled to understand what was unfolding and how this could come to be. 

As I stated in a tweet: I have faith in India even when I have little belief in the political leadership.

But around the world as more and more such incidents occur, the idea of democracy needs revisiting.

Posted first on Facebook and Instagram on 9 August 2019.

Taleem Kabul (कबूल)

Taleem Kabul

No excuse. How can there be?
Children cannot be made terrorism's casualty.
One can argue, debate, hold a contrary position,
But violence cannot, should not, be a solution.

'No matter what we will be educated'
Says a post of a student frustrated
By attacks in his country
Yet won over by a child's piety
As the child wounded clutches his book
One can only with wonder and hope at the child look.

Another has posted a child's face dripping with blood,
Anger, pity, worry all through one's being flood.
Yet another says a friend has died
What words of comfort can suffice?

In a class I heard recently this question
'What is there to know?'
There is misery and terror, so much emotion
But is this worth knowing? A resounding NO.

Children know this today unfortunately,
We fail as adults to protect them from tragedy,
We fail to create a constructive reality
We fail as a society.

But perhaps in education lies hope,
Perhaps the next generation will not like us grope,
Perhaps they will know to not fight wars,
Perhaps they will know what is truly a just way and cause.

Perhaps they will live, thrive
And not just survive,
Perhaps they will help each other.
I hope their world will be much better.

- Written on 1 July 2019.
- Was in Kabul, Afghanistan when a bomb attack occurred on 1 July. Nearby schools were not spared. The images were graphic and heartwrenching.

Painting-Poesy #5

The inside of an ambulance smells different each time
The rides all do not have the same vibe.
The reasons are varied too
One may be coming from the hospital or towards it riding to.

The ride maybe short, just a road away,
The ride may be long with many vehicles to overtake,
The ride may have companions encouraging
Or the mood may be foul, any optimism dissuading.

The ambulance itself is a different shell
Housing all kinds of equipment to stem the death knell
Or housing just a stretcher and bench
With nothing to mask worry's stench.

The varied types of stretchers
The varied lifting devices, usually made of leathers,
The many ways to pull, to push, to shift,
So much to learn. Pray! why was this not our school's gift?

The windows or lack of do not register
Your own opinions to such extremes dance and quiver
And in the next bump they disappear,
Of life's vagaries the ride makes you an acceptor.

-Written on 21 July 2019.
- July has been a month of ambulance rides for mom. In fact, 2019 has seen us in and out of ambulances and hospitals more times than I can count.

Painting-Poesy #4

When someone makes mistakes

And is apologetic and daily self flagellates,

Refusing to move on,

Pacifying, cajoling, remonstrating begins to weigh upon.

Walking away is an option

But then the someone will cling further to the notion

That a mistake made is still unforgiven

The payment for it will last across this generation! 

Guilt is a cover that can shroud

Not just the repentant but those around.

Not that one should not feel sorry

But one mistake cannot be one's only misery! 

As we grow we make many

We learn, we repent, we forgive, we forge towards glory,

But if we wallow, stay rooted in the past,

Those loved ones around may not last.

Children are whom I look to for life lessons

So many mistakes, some tears, some smiles and all is forgiven.

While mistakes are at times repeated, progress is constant,

Each milestone is greeted by children exultant.

Look forward, not back,

Stop apologising, give back,

Mistakes do not define one

Efforts to improve make life fun.

#Guilt #Counselling #LearningFromMistakes #Forgiveness #SelfLove #BeingHuman

- Written on 16 June 2019 and Created on 6 April 2019.

- Posted on Instagram and Facebook. 

- Self-explanatory.

Painting-Poesy #3

Today, a slightly emotionally tough day, 

The first choice was always the dark side of the palatte. 

The conscious effort to choose lighter shades

Does not mean that sorrow fades,

But the end result indicates

There is light that might yet hold sway. 

In the darkest hours, the silver lining

Is not the cloud's rim, but faith in our hearts shining.

May like free birds we all fly high,

May like nature's bounty we all give joy. 

After every summer there is rain

After every winter, spring's upon us again. 

No cycle has no downside, 

No sorrow has no upside.

A friend's post reminded me of Bel Kaufman, 

"Up the Down Staircase" peppered with many a gem.

Another had earlier sent me delightful Ted Chiang's Arrival,

A third had just called to talk things trivial,

Each a signpost reminding me

Life is not all gloom and misery.

Chin up, cheer is near,

Just welcome it when you its arrival hear. :)

#Painting #Writing #Catharsis

- Written and Created on 15 June 2019.

- Posted on Instagram and Facebook. 

- Self-explanatory. 

Painting-Poesy #2

When I know I should have been working

Instead was procrastinating,

Just one more stroke, one more colour,

Just let me get this idea down on paper,

My notebook is filled with many a (false) pearl

Oystered in procrastination's shell,

My cellphone is testament to checklists

Unmarked, undone with few clicks,

Yet I procrastinate, hoping in vain,

This next one will satisfy a (non) artist's pain,

And strangely, while no beauties emerge,

My soul is at peace, as work yet again I purge.

#Procrastination #AnyExcuseWillDo #Escape #Art #PretendArtist

- Written and Created on 11 June 2019.

- Posted on Instagram and Facebook. 

- Self-explanatory. 

Painting-Poesy #1

Experiments make us stretch, feel woke, 

Just the tiniest change in the brush stroke,

Just a change in the palatte colours,

Just the idea, the thought, uncovers

New vistas, entire universes, within ourselves,

Perhaps within us reside some mischievous, magical 

elves.

#Painting #DigitalArt #Experiments #Art

- Written and Created on 7 June 2019.

- Posted on Instagram and Facebook. 

- Self-explanatory. 

Conversations in a Cab Ride :)

अच्छे तो बहुत लोग लगते हैं, इसका यह मतलब थोड़ी निकला कि जाके सबसे शादी कर लो।

(One may like many people, but it does not mean one gets married to them all). 

On my way home, stuck in quite a bit of traffic, after a haranguing time in a mini accident (no fault of my Uber driver), I heard this piece of wisdom dropped in the midst of my Uber driver, Azad, recounting his life story including a marriage he was emotionally blackmailed into by his parents when he was just 17 and his wife 16. The fact that this 8th school drop out is proud of his brothers having been able to continue with their studies, one to become an ethical hacker with a Computer Applications degree and another a pharmacist, proud that his wife is 12th pass, and was able to articulate the need for improved Govt schools in his home town area and link the education to quality of life, to self respect, to self evolution and to the job market showed how much he valued education even as he saw no way to get back into the game in the near future. The fact that he could respect his wife and admit that he would not have been the person she had chosen were she to have her opinion asked just as he would not have chosen her though she is a very nice person touched me.

As I told him at the end of the ride, his story is not a happy ending story and he laughed and agreed that it also was not a sad ending story and stated perhaps it is the average middle of the road story, I thought to myself about the many ways we talk of education that do not really take into account these realities of life.

He spoke of reservation in India, of govt schooling systems, of how the fall of the Babri Masjid intimately affected his family and how they had to move away from his hometown to protect themselves with the anti-Muslim sentiment prevalent in their area then, of how health care is not as effective still and so on.

Important topics all. A personalised yet nuanced understanding of the contexts he was speaking about, an ability to counter my arguments with his own examples without putting me down - all struck me, but the lines he said at the fag end of the ride somehow are the ones that resonated with me. Those and his intention to never force his little girl to ever go through a marriage that she had not wholeheartedly desired.

"सही marriage, madamji, वही होता है जहाँ आपस में समझ हो - husband अपनी Mrs ko समझे और wife अपने husband को। तभी सही बुरे वक्त में शादी टिकती है, वरना दो लोग जिंदगी में साथ चलते हैं, साथ रहते हैं पर वो शादी शादी नहीं होती"

(A true marriage is one in which there is mutual understanding - a husband understands his wife and she her husband. That is when the marriage stands the test of hard times, otherwise two people are just walking, living together, but it is not a marriage.) 

I really liked how he described schooling and what he thought of schools and language mediums and the reasons for poor literacy rate among Muslims in India. I did not agree with all his points, but that does not make his views invalid. Actually they become more interesting. Will need to research a bit more though on some of the points he raised. Maybe another post. 

 #cabrides #lifelessonsinconversations :)

- Written on 31 May 2019.

- Posted on  Facebook. 

- Self Explanatory. 

Election Results - 2019

D-Day looms and it feels my country

Is still itself sculpting

In the midst of identity politics, finding its own identity,

In the midst of chaos, developing, organising,

Somehow the flag flying proud and high in the university,

Made me realise anew my faith that no matter what, India will continue to be.

To be the hope for millions to rise to prosperity,

To be the beacon for millions to celebrate diversity,

To be the light for millions for peace and unity,

Even the fights are a celebration of variety.

Yes, I believe India will continue to be.

An idea, a faith, a dream, a reality.  

- Written on 22 May 2019. 

- Posted on Facebook. 

- Election results were to be announced 23 May 2019.

Happy Woman's Day - 2019

Women be strong,

Listen not to litanies wrong.

Obedience is not always a virtue

It is not selfishness to be to YOUR SELF true.

Walk towards what you want

And your talents do flaunt.

Fight for yourself not just others

Relax, kick back, why always be multitaskers? 

First give to yourself, believe you deserve,

The world needs YOU, not a martyr. 

You exist, you are precious. 

Celebrate not just today, but every moment, every year as felicitious. 

Happy Women's Day, today and every day. 

To everyone, because we need Gender Equality, not just a special day party :)

- Written on 8 March 2019.

- Posted first on Facebook. 

- Self-explanatory. 

That's so Foolish! - Out of the Mouth of Kids

That's so Foolish! - Out of the Mouth of Kids

Yesterday, as I was talking to my Uber driver finding his way to my location, I was also reading a poster, when I felt a tug on my dress. I looked down and this young kid (about 6 years of age) spoke to me:

Child: Are you calling them?

She was pointing to the poster and with no pause for breath, even as I began to shake my head and say no, continued.

Child: Because that is so foolish! They are just right inside. (Ponting to a building).

As she paused, looking at me with mild exasperation at my foolishness, I meekly submitted that I had been talking to my Uber driver.

She nodded her head wisely and proceeded to ask if I liked exercising (I had been looking at a Gym poster, outside a gymkhana at that, after all 😉). I shook my head and said I preferred sleeping and asked her what she liked to do.

We had a fascinating conversation jumping from topic to topic as she waited for her parents to pick her up and her friends had their own conversations around us with other parents milling about. As the 10 minutes passed in a jiffy, I also had a parallel track running in my head as the dusk light faded and the dim street lights slowly turned on.

Should I tell her to not talk to strangers so easily? Should I warn her to not separate so far from her friends? Should I question the other adults not seeming to notice that the little girl had wandered to me near enough to raise an alarm should it be needed, yet not really secure from nefarious intentions should I have them?

Yet was it fair to instill this fear in the child? I think she enjoyed our conversation as she questioned me on my likes and occupation and sermonised me about how I should deal with my students. I certainly did enjoy our conversation. Should I deprive myself and others like me the joys of having a child talk to them because the world can be a cruel place? Or should we as adults just be more vigilant and create more safe spaces? Even when it seems impossible to do so?

I have been pondering about this since then and I do not know the answer to this. Surely a child should feel safe to approach a stranger to share her delightful wisdom? But is it not better to be safe than sorry?

As my Uber driver and her parents arrived, I walked away exchanging pleasantries with the parents. I could hear them jokingly, lightly asking her why she was bent on walking away from friends and talking to a stranger and her vehemently defending her decision as a helpful one. She also argued that poor me had no one but a phone to talk to and I might have been foolishly talking into the phone to enquire about details than walk into the gymkhana. 😉

I am still thinking was I right to bite my tongue and not caution her? We often talk of children learning better through exploration, seeking information by themselves, helping others in an effort to understand the unknown. How then can we deny them spontaneous interactions with strangers that they architect themselves? And yet...

- Written on 9 Feb 2019.

- Posted on Facebook first. This is just for repository purposes :) 

- Self Explanatory. 

Kochi Trip - April 2019

As the Uber zips through the lanes of cars,
I look out at this city I have come to love.
Memories zip by as fast as the events,
So many to remember, relish, replay, recast even.
Two nieces and a nephew who make us laugh aloud,
Stubborn, affectionate, outgoing, they do us proud.
Cousins, sisters born
But as friends I do them now count.
More and more members warmly greet,
A gathering of this many no mean feat.
Music, laughter, and so much food,
The very best combo for times good.
Friends and family time is a treat,
Worth many, many a repeat,
Worth any effort
To realise the worth
Of shared values despite many a difference,
Of knowing the bond survives across generations.
To many more such meetings and soon,
For now I relive being over the moon.

- Written on 29 Apri 2019.
- A nephew's poonal was 28-29 April and this was one huge family meet. One gifting so many a cherished moment.

Why Friends Meet

When you are down in the dumps
It helps to have friends.

The ones who know what you feel,
And ones who still have your layers to peel.
The ones who always have your back,
And the ones you simply smile at.

They are all fun as you lose your worries
In the news, the gossip, the good ole days memories.
You make more memories too,
The ones that lend you vigour anew.

The hugs, the smiles, the quiet asides,
Are ever worth the travelled miles,
Are ever worth rejuggled times,
Are ever worth 'Unchecked To-Dos' and such crimes.

The new friends you make,
The new perspectives you gain,
The laughter, the fun, the eats
This is why friends need meet.

- Written on 30 December 2018.
- Self-explanatory. 

Thank You Blood Donors!

A loved one for 11 days in the ICU,
With kidney and heart problems, diabetes, gangrene, what have you,
7 different teams of doctors working on her case,
Everything slips by in a daze.

One hopes for the best, but fears always loom,
As the graphs spike and plummet, there is so much gloom:
12 units of blood and counting,
Multiple tests that lead to just the next thing.

More questions, fewer answers,
The game called life requires trust:
Trust in strangers to do their best,
Trust that what does the trick is rest,
Trust that doctors know what they are doing,
Trust that the medicines and surgeries are working.

Hospitals teach you so much each time,
There are more days yet to learn lessons prime.
For now, we take a deep breath and recharge,
With gratitude for all who gave blood that helped her death thwart.

~Anusha Ramanathan

#BloodDonation #Gratitude #KindStrangers

Mayank Mrinal Akanksha Sharma Kritarth Chaudhary Thank you so very much. And all the other unknowns and non Facebook friends too. The road to recovery would not have been possible without you.

- As posted on Facebook on 6 Jan 2019.
- Written on 6 Jan 2019.
- Self Explanatory  (Mom unwell).