I have heard it all before, how India has progressed, how things have changed, how there is a reverse brain drain, how people are moving back to the country, how everything is much better than ever before...haven't we all? We have all heard it, sometimes also said it, yes we have moved on, but...there are a whole list of 'buts'
The loudest I hear this 'India Shining' rant is from my own family and my mother, who so loves the coutry, she is reluctant to see other parts of the world. She is convinced that the country will 'get over' what happened in Bombay, it is a case of onwards and upwards..which is good, yes indeed, but is it really? And I am not saying so because it was Bombay as so we need to stall and think and act. I say so..because we do need to square up and look around ourselves see what (ALL)is wrong and why. Its not just my city, state, language, class, culture and friends...it is a lot more than that..
Just read Mad Momma's take on India's Elite Ironies and agreed with her view..
'Fifty million Indians doing well does not for a great India make, given that
500 million are grovelling to survive. Sixty years after independence, it
can safely be said that India’s political leadership — and the nation’s
elite — have badly let down the country’s dispossessed and wretched. If you
care to look, India today is heartbreak hotel, where infants die like flies,
and equal opportunity is a cruel mirage.'
Monday, December 15, 2008
Wednesday, December 10, 2008
Google Zeitgeist
Quite interesting this year was...am stuck inside various bits of the Google Zeitgeist.
'As the year comes to a close, it's time to look at the big events, memorable moments and emerging trends that captivated us in 2008. As it happens, studying the aggregation of the billions of search queries that people type into the Google search box gives us a glimpse into the zeitgeist — the spirit of the times. We've compiled some of the highlights from Google searches around the globe and hope you enjoy looking back as much as we do.'
Check it out here
...interesting to note Sarah Palin beats Obama on this list
..India's most popular how to according to Google is 'how to reduce weight', oddly comforting thought for me.
..very heartening to see Kashmir at the third place for top holiday destination in India..
..most impressed by Katrina Kaif for turning up on so many lists..
I am still reading through it..
'As the year comes to a close, it's time to look at the big events, memorable moments and emerging trends that captivated us in 2008. As it happens, studying the aggregation of the billions of search queries that people type into the Google search box gives us a glimpse into the zeitgeist — the spirit of the times. We've compiled some of the highlights from Google searches around the globe and hope you enjoy looking back as much as we do.'
Check it out here
...interesting to note Sarah Palin beats Obama on this list
..India's most popular how to according to Google is 'how to reduce weight', oddly comforting thought for me.
..very heartening to see Kashmir at the third place for top holiday destination in India..
..most impressed by Katrina Kaif for turning up on so many lists..
I am still reading through it..
Bringing up the sibling..
I do know quite a few people, including my own mother, who have been looked after as children by their older siblings. About two generations ago, people had more than the regulation 2 children. They also married younger and thus had a lot more time to have more than 2-3 children, which meant that there was a possibility of large age gap between the youngest one and the oldest one. This often meant that the older child would do a lot of babysitting, feeding, cleaning, playing and general being in charge of the well being of their little sibling. It was not uncommon to see an age difference ranging from 10-20 or more years. This allowed the oldest child to sometimes act as a quasi-parent, willingly or reluctantly.
I have heard stories about my uncle taking his 21 year old younger sister, my mother, to school till one day he overheard people at mom's school assume that he was her father, that was the last day he took her to school. Being the youngest of 6 children, my mother had the advantage of having much older siblings so her homework, heat her milk bottle and do anything she needed done without having to make much of an effort. She was babied and looked after by her siblings. Which meant that as an adult she had an almost child-parent relationship with her older siblings. They even today treat her like one of their own children. Which means they are close..but its not the same thing as having a sibling.
Siblings are friends, foes, adversaries, confidantes, the team you join when you need a big moan about your parent. The cheerleaders in your life, the people you discuss your troubles with when you don't want to worry your parents, the people you introduce your girlfriend/ boyfriend to as a possible potential tester for parental reaction later on. They are the people you are embarrassed of at some point of life. The people you whinge and crib about. The people on who you can test run your opinions about life. They are the butt of your learning attempts at criticism, they knock off your corners, remove the chips from your shoulders, they teach you how to whine, tell tales and eventually temporarily hate a person. They make you angry enough to want to kill them and ask God, why they were sent as your burden to bear! They love you unconditionally (if you have been brought up right) but they are not responsible for you. There is a Lot of difference between them and parents.
While I don't think its wrong for older kids to chip in to help out the parents with the younger ones, especially when there are quite a few young ones around. I do feel that putting the responsibility of one of your children on another child is not quite fair for the older child. Yes they learn how to care about their own siblings, but they also need the time and attention of the parents themselves, after all they are children too. I also think a sibling bond is essential but when an older sibling is like a parent the equation changes. And remains so even after the children have grown up and become adults.
I do see the need for respect and love between siblings, but the parent child equation should not be played out between children, unless of course there is a lack of options. I am told that this perspective is the reason why there is little affection between siblings in the modern world.
I think it is unfair to take a child's ability to be a child by leaving them in charge of your own children. Chipping in from time to time is very different from making them responsible for the younger ones. Am I being too 'western' in my thinking as I have been told..or is this more practical approach better in the long run?
I have heard stories about my uncle taking his 21 year old younger sister, my mother, to school till one day he overheard people at mom's school assume that he was her father, that was the last day he took her to school. Being the youngest of 6 children, my mother had the advantage of having much older siblings so her homework, heat her milk bottle and do anything she needed done without having to make much of an effort. She was babied and looked after by her siblings. Which meant that as an adult she had an almost child-parent relationship with her older siblings. They even today treat her like one of their own children. Which means they are close..but its not the same thing as having a sibling.
Siblings are friends, foes, adversaries, confidantes, the team you join when you need a big moan about your parent. The cheerleaders in your life, the people you discuss your troubles with when you don't want to worry your parents, the people you introduce your girlfriend/ boyfriend to as a possible potential tester for parental reaction later on. They are the people you are embarrassed of at some point of life. The people you whinge and crib about. The people on who you can test run your opinions about life. They are the butt of your learning attempts at criticism, they knock off your corners, remove the chips from your shoulders, they teach you how to whine, tell tales and eventually temporarily hate a person. They make you angry enough to want to kill them and ask God, why they were sent as your burden to bear! They love you unconditionally (if you have been brought up right) but they are not responsible for you. There is a Lot of difference between them and parents.
While I don't think its wrong for older kids to chip in to help out the parents with the younger ones, especially when there are quite a few young ones around. I do feel that putting the responsibility of one of your children on another child is not quite fair for the older child. Yes they learn how to care about their own siblings, but they also need the time and attention of the parents themselves, after all they are children too. I also think a sibling bond is essential but when an older sibling is like a parent the equation changes. And remains so even after the children have grown up and become adults.
I do see the need for respect and love between siblings, but the parent child equation should not be played out between children, unless of course there is a lack of options. I am told that this perspective is the reason why there is little affection between siblings in the modern world.
I think it is unfair to take a child's ability to be a child by leaving them in charge of your own children. Chipping in from time to time is very different from making them responsible for the younger ones. Am I being too 'western' in my thinking as I have been told..or is this more practical approach better in the long run?
Wednesday, December 03, 2008
Do something..
I am appalled at the way the media has covered the events in Bombay. I am shocked at the insensitivity of the reporters. I am horrified at the risk they put the security under..just speechless.
This petition by Vishal asks the Indian courts to formulate a model Code-of-Conduct within a fixed time frame; that should be made mandatory to the TV News Channels, to regulate the 'Live' broadcast of such and similar eventualities and operations that India might face in the future.
If you see his point, you can sign up here
_______________________________________________________________________________________
The Petition
TO THE HONOURABLE CHIEF JUSTICE AND OTHER PUISNE JUDGES OF THE HIGH COURT AT BOMBAY.
My name is Vishal Dadlani. I was born in Bombay in 1973, and have lived here my whole life. I'm a musician.
Just like the rest of the world, from the moment I learnt of the attacks, I stayed up watching television. I saw our local Police try to figure things out, I watched our valiant Officers Karkare, Salaskar and Kamte arrive, and almost immediately, lose their lives. I saw the NSG and Marcos arrive and started to watch each step of their operation, when suddenly, realization dawned! Over the next thirty or forty hours, I watched, helpless and frustrated, as our very own electronic media did things that seemed blatantly wrong to me.
What they were broadcasting in the name of the news, were in fact the exact operational procedures, locations, and actions of our anti-insurgency forces! Minute-by-minute!
I don't know anything about how the Armed Forces work, and I understand nothing of terrorist-strikes and the correct media procedures involved. There are a few questions I would like to bring up, and have answered, though.
1. Is it acceptable to us that what should have been a classified operation, was in fact an open book? Are we fine with the fact that terrorists inside the besieged buildings could have had real-time access to the same news channels that we did, thus giving them complete and thorough information about the actions of our forces? Is it condonable, that some of our men may have been placed at a disadvantage (and even killed) due to the fact that the very terrorists they were trying to locate and subdue, probably knew every detail of their positions and plans?
The electronic media may defend their position with the "Freedom of the Press" slogan that has been so often invoked, but I beg to differ. I think that in the absence of responsible self-censorship, the media must be instructed to act in a particular manner, as required by on-ground reality.
The TV channels may try and say that their "live" feeds are slightly delayed, thus reducing their relevance to the terrorists. However, consider a terrorist inside a building, who has no information as to how and from which direction the forces are approaching. Then, consider the same terrorist, a few minutes later, with complete details as to where the forces have entered from, and obviously, the direction of their approach.
It was approximately forty hours after the attacks began, (and I'm told, on repeated requests from the I & B ministry) that some channels started to point their cameras away from the operations, and started to say things like "without giving away too much detail"! Too little, too late perhaps?
This was obviously a huge mistake. I think it's crucial that this blunder not be repeated, and to that effect, a code of conduct be created for the electronic media in times of national crisis.
The electronic media must not be allowed to show a live anti-terrorist operation until it is safely concluded! They must obey when they are told to disperse, and they must respect cordons created by the operating force.
2. Another question I'd like to ask is whether it's correct, both morally and legally, for a TV channel to broadcast to the Nation, an alleged live phone call, purportedly from one of the terrorists. The perpetrators of a colossal crime against our Nation, being allowed to air their vitriolic propaganda on one of our own news channels! Does this seem wrong to anyone else?
3. Some TV channels also had "live-and-direct" phone conversations with guests within the hotels, in which the said guests divulge their locations and room numbers. I can't see the point, or the newsworthiness of this. Someone who has managed to get away to a relatively safe place, unknown to the terrorists, is made to give up his location. The guest, of course, assumes it will assist the rescue operation if he tells them where he is, but the TV channels broadcast this information, possibly even to the terrorists themselves. Is this OK by us? I sincerely hope not!
This a time of great anger for India. We feel violated and hurt, we feel helpless and lost. Without credible leadership anywhere, we are left to our own devices. I think it's important, however, that we set aside our anger and our emotional responses, and with a calm and collected rationale, think of the things we can change to make our country safer for all of us to live in.
If we can all make or facilitate one change each, I think it will add up to making a huge difference! I ask all of you to join in and sign the following petition. Hopefully the Courts will take cognizance of our opinion, and help us to make this small change that will keep our Nation and the defenders of this Nation a little safer in any future eventuality of this nature.
PETITION TO THE HIGH COURT OF MUMBAI:
We, the undersigned, citizens of India, humbly pray for the following reliefs;
1. That this Hon'ble Court call for the complete and unedited footage from all TV News Channels broadcasting the attacks 'live', starting from 9:30pm on Wednesday 26th November 2008 and until the morning of Saturday the 29th November 2008 and examine the same by itself or through any appropriate agency as appointed by it, to investigate and determine the manner in which sensitive information pertaining to the movement of Counter-Insurgency Operations was broadcast 'live'.
2. That this Hon'ble Court take cognizance of the broadcast of inflammatory propaganda (if any), on any such TV News Channels, and an appropriate Writ Order or Direction be passed by the Court against such TV News Channels as this Hon'ble Court may deem fit and proper.
3. That this Hon'ble Court make and issue such other Writ, Order and Direction as it may deem appropriate directing the Authorities to formulate a model Code-of-Conduct within a fixed time frame; that be made mandatory to the TV News Channels, to regulate the 'Live' broadcast of such and similar eventualities and operations.
4. That this Hon'ble Court make and issue such other Writ Order or Direction as it may deem appropriate in the matter.
Sincerely,
Vishal Dadlani
and
The Undersigned (scroll down below for complete list)
_______________________________________________________________________________________
From the website mediaverve
This petition by Vishal asks the Indian courts to formulate a model Code-of-Conduct within a fixed time frame; that should be made mandatory to the TV News Channels, to regulate the 'Live' broadcast of such and similar eventualities and operations that India might face in the future.
If you see his point, you can sign up here
_______________________________________________________________________________________
The Petition
TO THE HONOURABLE CHIEF JUSTICE AND OTHER PUISNE JUDGES OF THE HIGH COURT AT BOMBAY.
My name is Vishal Dadlani. I was born in Bombay in 1973, and have lived here my whole life. I'm a musician.
Just like the rest of the world, from the moment I learnt of the attacks, I stayed up watching television. I saw our local Police try to figure things out, I watched our valiant Officers Karkare, Salaskar and Kamte arrive, and almost immediately, lose their lives. I saw the NSG and Marcos arrive and started to watch each step of their operation, when suddenly, realization dawned! Over the next thirty or forty hours, I watched, helpless and frustrated, as our very own electronic media did things that seemed blatantly wrong to me.
What they were broadcasting in the name of the news, were in fact the exact operational procedures, locations, and actions of our anti-insurgency forces! Minute-by-minute!
I don't know anything about how the Armed Forces work, and I understand nothing of terrorist-strikes and the correct media procedures involved. There are a few questions I would like to bring up, and have answered, though.
1. Is it acceptable to us that what should have been a classified operation, was in fact an open book? Are we fine with the fact that terrorists inside the besieged buildings could have had real-time access to the same news channels that we did, thus giving them complete and thorough information about the actions of our forces? Is it condonable, that some of our men may have been placed at a disadvantage (and even killed) due to the fact that the very terrorists they were trying to locate and subdue, probably knew every detail of their positions and plans?
The electronic media may defend their position with the "Freedom of the Press" slogan that has been so often invoked, but I beg to differ. I think that in the absence of responsible self-censorship, the media must be instructed to act in a particular manner, as required by on-ground reality.
The TV channels may try and say that their "live" feeds are slightly delayed, thus reducing their relevance to the terrorists. However, consider a terrorist inside a building, who has no information as to how and from which direction the forces are approaching. Then, consider the same terrorist, a few minutes later, with complete details as to where the forces have entered from, and obviously, the direction of their approach.
It was approximately forty hours after the attacks began, (and I'm told, on repeated requests from the I & B ministry) that some channels started to point their cameras away from the operations, and started to say things like "without giving away too much detail"! Too little, too late perhaps?
This was obviously a huge mistake. I think it's crucial that this blunder not be repeated, and to that effect, a code of conduct be created for the electronic media in times of national crisis.
The electronic media must not be allowed to show a live anti-terrorist operation until it is safely concluded! They must obey when they are told to disperse, and they must respect cordons created by the operating force.
2. Another question I'd like to ask is whether it's correct, both morally and legally, for a TV channel to broadcast to the Nation, an alleged live phone call, purportedly from one of the terrorists. The perpetrators of a colossal crime against our Nation, being allowed to air their vitriolic propaganda on one of our own news channels! Does this seem wrong to anyone else?
3. Some TV channels also had "live-and-direct" phone conversations with guests within the hotels, in which the said guests divulge their locations and room numbers. I can't see the point, or the newsworthiness of this. Someone who has managed to get away to a relatively safe place, unknown to the terrorists, is made to give up his location. The guest, of course, assumes it will assist the rescue operation if he tells them where he is, but the TV channels broadcast this information, possibly even to the terrorists themselves. Is this OK by us? I sincerely hope not!
This a time of great anger for India. We feel violated and hurt, we feel helpless and lost. Without credible leadership anywhere, we are left to our own devices. I think it's important, however, that we set aside our anger and our emotional responses, and with a calm and collected rationale, think of the things we can change to make our country safer for all of us to live in.
If we can all make or facilitate one change each, I think it will add up to making a huge difference! I ask all of you to join in and sign the following petition. Hopefully the Courts will take cognizance of our opinion, and help us to make this small change that will keep our Nation and the defenders of this Nation a little safer in any future eventuality of this nature.
PETITION TO THE HIGH COURT OF MUMBAI:
We, the undersigned, citizens of India, humbly pray for the following reliefs;
1. That this Hon'ble Court call for the complete and unedited footage from all TV News Channels broadcasting the attacks 'live', starting from 9:30pm on Wednesday 26th November 2008 and until the morning of Saturday the 29th November 2008 and examine the same by itself or through any appropriate agency as appointed by it, to investigate and determine the manner in which sensitive information pertaining to the movement of Counter-Insurgency Operations was broadcast 'live'.
2. That this Hon'ble Court take cognizance of the broadcast of inflammatory propaganda (if any), on any such TV News Channels, and an appropriate Writ Order or Direction be passed by the Court against such TV News Channels as this Hon'ble Court may deem fit and proper.
3. That this Hon'ble Court make and issue such other Writ, Order and Direction as it may deem appropriate directing the Authorities to formulate a model Code-of-Conduct within a fixed time frame; that be made mandatory to the TV News Channels, to regulate the 'Live' broadcast of such and similar eventualities and operations.
4. That this Hon'ble Court make and issue such other Writ Order or Direction as it may deem appropriate in the matter.
Sincerely,
Vishal Dadlani
and
The Undersigned (scroll down below for complete list)
_______________________________________________________________________________________
From the website mediaverve
Saturday, November 29, 2008
Where The Mind is Without Fear
Where the mind is without fear and the head is held high
Where knowledge is free
Where the world has not been broken up into fragments
By narrow domestic walls
Where words come out from the depth of truth
Where tireless striving stretches its arms towards perfection
Where the clear stream of reason has not lost its way
Into the dreary desert sand of dead habit
Where the mind is led forward by thee
Into ever-widening thought and action
Into that heaven of freedom, my Father, let my country awake
~Tagore.
..let my country awake..
..let my country awake..
Where knowledge is free
Where the world has not been broken up into fragments
By narrow domestic walls
Where words come out from the depth of truth
Where tireless striving stretches its arms towards perfection
Where the clear stream of reason has not lost its way
Into the dreary desert sand of dead habit
Where the mind is led forward by thee
Into ever-widening thought and action
Into that heaven of freedom, my Father, let my country awake
~Tagore.
..let my country awake..
..let my country awake..
Friday, November 28, 2008
Speechless
Angry,
Sad,
Upset,
Worried,
Surprised,
Teary eyed,
Horrified,
Tired..
However I still agree with a fellow famous Indian...
'An eye for an eye shall make us all blind'.
Respond we must, react maybe, but lets not jump at things and make it worse, or allow others to run away with our futures by having knee jerk reactions on our behalf.
I wonder where the Shiv Sena and company are at this time..
I wonder why NDTV calls bombay a 'conflict zone'
I want to know who the people outside Nariman house were.
I want to know how old the equipment is that is used by the NSG and the Police and the other heroes of the hour..
I do wonder if Bombay is a 'war' zone..after all wars are fought by military, not civilians..
We need to understand terrorism and make no mistake about it.
Sad,
Upset,
Worried,
Surprised,
Teary eyed,
Horrified,
Tired..
However I still agree with a fellow famous Indian...
'An eye for an eye shall make us all blind'.
Respond we must, react maybe, but lets not jump at things and make it worse, or allow others to run away with our futures by having knee jerk reactions on our behalf.
I wonder where the Shiv Sena and company are at this time..
I wonder why NDTV calls bombay a 'conflict zone'
I want to know who the people outside Nariman house were.
I want to know how old the equipment is that is used by the NSG and the Police and the other heroes of the hour..
I do wonder if Bombay is a 'war' zone..after all wars are fought by military, not civilians..
We need to understand terrorism and make no mistake about it.
Wednesday, November 26, 2008
Not one of mine..
Here I was wallowing in self pity and now there is horrible news from Bombay. More people killed, after the first shock of the news wears off, the mind records the numbers dead, thinks, and then notices the numbers injured. Statistics, cold and hard facts about how many were effected. And I am full of questions, to which I have no answers. I seek.
A shame, that people need to die this way.
A pity that they get reduced to statistics.
Appalling, that we 'carry on' nonetheless.
Almost nonchalant about the fact that no one 'I know' has been hurt or worse killed.
Is this not an infection of some sort that all of us have? The ability to hear bad news, horrible and terrible news, watch it live, read about it online and see photographs of it, then close the newspaper/computer/phone call and turn over and sleep. Carry on. We always carry on.
How? Why?
Are we cold people, who care only about their own limited circles? Are we so busy making our money and earning our daily bread that we feel no pain of the people who have actually been impacted by this nasty event, and the many others that have preceded it? Or maybe we do feel the pain, but shrug, since we can do nothing about it.
I borrow from Ms Roy,
'...To love. To be loved. To never forget your own insignificance. To never get used to the unspeakable violence and the vulgar disparity of life around you. To seek joy in the saddest places. To pursue beauty to its lair. To never simplify what is complicated or complicate what is simple. To respect strength, never power. Above all, to watch. To try and understand. To never look away. And never, never, to forget. ...'
How long will we blame Pakistan and Islamic terrorists? How long before the last drop of blood has been shed and the last atom of fight has been fought?
We have become too friendly with the word 'terrorist', we know the predictability of the unpredictable tactics they use. We have made them a part of our world and learned how to give concession to terrible acts when carried out by 'terrorists'. We are not 'terrorized' anymore, merely surprised, perhaps appalled, maybe slightly worried. But in our already crowded lives, we have squeezed this unspeakably violence in.
Why? Who are they? Why are we victims or our own species? Why are we silent? Is there nothing? anything? we can say? Is it not frustrating to be a silent spectator of this horror show?
A shame, that people need to die this way.
A pity that they get reduced to statistics.
Appalling, that we 'carry on' nonetheless.
Almost nonchalant about the fact that no one 'I know' has been hurt or worse killed.
Is this not an infection of some sort that all of us have? The ability to hear bad news, horrible and terrible news, watch it live, read about it online and see photographs of it, then close the newspaper/computer/phone call and turn over and sleep. Carry on. We always carry on.
How? Why?
Are we cold people, who care only about their own limited circles? Are we so busy making our money and earning our daily bread that we feel no pain of the people who have actually been impacted by this nasty event, and the many others that have preceded it? Or maybe we do feel the pain, but shrug, since we can do nothing about it.
I borrow from Ms Roy,
'...To love. To be loved. To never forget your own insignificance. To never get used to the unspeakable violence and the vulgar disparity of life around you. To seek joy in the saddest places. To pursue beauty to its lair. To never simplify what is complicated or complicate what is simple. To respect strength, never power. Above all, to watch. To try and understand. To never look away. And never, never, to forget. ...'
How long will we blame Pakistan and Islamic terrorists? How long before the last drop of blood has been shed and the last atom of fight has been fought?
We have become too friendly with the word 'terrorist', we know the predictability of the unpredictable tactics they use. We have made them a part of our world and learned how to give concession to terrible acts when carried out by 'terrorists'. We are not 'terrorized' anymore, merely surprised, perhaps appalled, maybe slightly worried. But in our already crowded lives, we have squeezed this unspeakably violence in.
Why? Who are they? Why are we victims or our own species? Why are we silent? Is there nothing? anything? we can say? Is it not frustrating to be a silent spectator of this horror show?
Monday, November 24, 2008
The Stone, the Stent, the Stint and the Surreality
All done, the stone has been ground to a million pieces, the stent has been removed and my stint at the hospital seems to be over. I shall tell you about the surreal though. The shards of the stone have been picked by a cystoscope, and I, ladies and gentlemen have a long lists of firsts added to my life experiences.
So:
~ my first stone
~ my first surgery
~ my first stay in an Indian hospital
~ my first total loss of dignity
~ my first brush with spinal and general anaesthesia
and..what this post is about
~ my first experience of regression..
So, the General Anaesthesia I was given for surgery made me pass out a lot quicker and painlessly than its predecessor which was jabbed into the base of my spine with a long painful metal injection a few days earlier. I was told GA will make my throat sore as they would send in an oxygen pipe to make my lungs work (to keep my heart going). They also told me I would be miserably nauseous and sick when I come around. The first happened the latter did not.
So, up on the operating table, I lie down, I hear the beep of my pulse, the blip of my heart and various machines winking at me, the large light on the ceiling stared back at me, looking a lot more dramatic than it does in movies and TV. They connect me to a whole load of pipes and tubes and then I am asked to look away as they put GA through an IV injection. This time there was no oxygen mask, which I had when I got the spinal Anaesthetic for the previous op. So I soon drift off, the last thing I remember seeing or feeling was the cold injection and the sharp pain of it filling my arm. and then nothing.
Nothing.
I cant say I was awake, and I know I was not physically awake. But very gently I felt my own presence in a silent space, silence so sharp it was obvious. Hard to describe, it was like being in a silent white room, except that white was not a colour but a light, a light so blindingly white, clean, clear and silent and a room or space which had no identifiable boundaries or edges. I did not see myself, its like my brain was in this space of nothingness. Absolute silence..and then a thought.
A mere brush of a thought, followed by a pattern of silent thoughts, slithering into this space, following each other, asking questions, answering themselves..there was no me, just thoughts and white light and silence. Thoughts, not in my voice, just there. We think in our own voices and thoughts have accents too..but this was not so....here is what came into my mind..in the order I can remember it in. It was not this unclear, and there was no sound. Almost as if I could feel my thoughts and not think them. Hard to describe.
...I can think.
..how can I think..
..where is my body..
..under sedation..
The Mind is beyond sedation..
..what about the body..
disdain at the body which succumbs to chemicals
...thoughts are beyond chemical sedation..
why am i thinking..
is this hallucination..
..no..
..i am clearly thinking..
..clear thoughts..
..will i remember this..
..yes..but only for a bit..
this place is very quiet and peaceful..
..very quiet..
..very eerie..
..am i afraid..
..no i am just wondering where the thoughts are coming from
..no wondering where I am..
..why..
...have been in this space before..i know it...
..will i remember this..
..yes but only parts..
...there are people outside this white space..
..yes..
..they can see me, hear me..
why cant i hear them or see them..
..oh my eyes are still closed..
..so am in imagining this white space..
..yes..silence...whiteness..no i am here its not imaginary..
..now someone will call my name..
And there it was, the doctor said instantly 'Can you hear me? are you ok? nod..' and I did. Like my mind could read minds and actions of others before they occur.
The thinking inside my head stopped..slowly..I could not open my eyes for a long time and I could not talk, even though I wanted to, I could hear my mother, my sister whisper, I could hear the nursing staff tell me, we are moving you to your bed now. My mum asking the surgeon if I am awake? when I will come around? If the operation was successful. I could feel them around me, touching my hand, whispering. I could not respond. It was as if I was in a coma. It was weird.
The thoughts in my head faded, but that feeling I had..of being in such a clear, quiet, white place, where the silence and peace were tangibly sharp was strange. It spooked me when I recounted it to my family and friends later and even now as I write I have goose bumps.
It is hard to describe.
So:
~ my first stone
~ my first surgery
~ my first stay in an Indian hospital
~ my first total loss of dignity
~ my first brush with spinal and general anaesthesia
and..what this post is about
~ my first experience of regression..
So, the General Anaesthesia I was given for surgery made me pass out a lot quicker and painlessly than its predecessor which was jabbed into the base of my spine with a long painful metal injection a few days earlier. I was told GA will make my throat sore as they would send in an oxygen pipe to make my lungs work (to keep my heart going). They also told me I would be miserably nauseous and sick when I come around. The first happened the latter did not.
So, up on the operating table, I lie down, I hear the beep of my pulse, the blip of my heart and various machines winking at me, the large light on the ceiling stared back at me, looking a lot more dramatic than it does in movies and TV. They connect me to a whole load of pipes and tubes and then I am asked to look away as they put GA through an IV injection. This time there was no oxygen mask, which I had when I got the spinal Anaesthetic for the previous op. So I soon drift off, the last thing I remember seeing or feeling was the cold injection and the sharp pain of it filling my arm. and then nothing.
Nothing.
I cant say I was awake, and I know I was not physically awake. But very gently I felt my own presence in a silent space, silence so sharp it was obvious. Hard to describe, it was like being in a silent white room, except that white was not a colour but a light, a light so blindingly white, clean, clear and silent and a room or space which had no identifiable boundaries or edges. I did not see myself, its like my brain was in this space of nothingness. Absolute silence..and then a thought.
A mere brush of a thought, followed by a pattern of silent thoughts, slithering into this space, following each other, asking questions, answering themselves..there was no me, just thoughts and white light and silence. Thoughts, not in my voice, just there. We think in our own voices and thoughts have accents too..but this was not so....here is what came into my mind..in the order I can remember it in. It was not this unclear, and there was no sound. Almost as if I could feel my thoughts and not think them. Hard to describe.
...I can think.
..how can I think..
..where is my body..
..under sedation..
The Mind is beyond sedation..
..what about the body..
disdain at the body which succumbs to chemicals
...thoughts are beyond chemical sedation..
why am i thinking..
is this hallucination..
..no..
..i am clearly thinking..
..clear thoughts..
..will i remember this..
..yes..but only for a bit..
this place is very quiet and peaceful..
..very quiet..
..very eerie..
..am i afraid..
..no i am just wondering where the thoughts are coming from
..no wondering where I am..
..why..
...have been in this space before..i know it...
..will i remember this..
..yes but only parts..
...there are people outside this white space..
..yes..
..they can see me, hear me..
why cant i hear them or see them..
..oh my eyes are still closed..
..so am in imagining this white space..
..yes..silence...whiteness..no i am here its not imaginary..
..now someone will call my name..
And there it was, the doctor said instantly 'Can you hear me? are you ok? nod..' and I did. Like my mind could read minds and actions of others before they occur.
The thinking inside my head stopped..slowly..I could not open my eyes for a long time and I could not talk, even though I wanted to, I could hear my mother, my sister whisper, I could hear the nursing staff tell me, we are moving you to your bed now. My mum asking the surgeon if I am awake? when I will come around? If the operation was successful. I could feel them around me, touching my hand, whispering. I could not respond. It was as if I was in a coma. It was weird.
The thoughts in my head faded, but that feeling I had..of being in such a clear, quiet, white place, where the silence and peace were tangibly sharp was strange. It spooked me when I recounted it to my family and friends later and even now as I write I have goose bumps.
It is hard to describe.
Monday, November 10, 2008
More surgery...
yes I was stoned and last week I did think it was all over and tonight the stent shall be removed and I shall be fine. Well not so easy say the Gods from above.
A bit of the stone chose the hide behind the stent and caused major pain, its still in there, so tomorrow I head for the oxygen pipe, the anaesthesia and the surgeon who shall get the stone out, watch me in hospital and then hopefully send me home completely cured.
A month has gone by in a haze of pain, a long haul flight in pain and I am still in India aiming at being completely cured.
Luck, stars, God, previous birth, bad Karma..dont know what it is, but sure is sticking around for way too long.
A bit of the stone chose the hide behind the stent and caused major pain, its still in there, so tomorrow I head for the oxygen pipe, the anaesthesia and the surgeon who shall get the stone out, watch me in hospital and then hopefully send me home completely cured.
A month has gone by in a haze of pain, a long haul flight in pain and I am still in India aiming at being completely cured.
Luck, stars, God, previous birth, bad Karma..dont know what it is, but sure is sticking around for way too long.
Friday, November 07, 2008
Update
Just to bring the weirdness in my life to a brand new level. The last post told you about the fact that I have 3 kidneys..double on the left etc..turns out I have four. Yup Duplex Systems on left and right side!They did not bother to check the other side in London.
Have had a painful time so far in India as a medical tourist. With Spinal Anaesthesia and stents and IV medication and hospital stays.
Shall bounce back shortly.
Have had a painful time so far in India as a medical tourist. With Spinal Anaesthesia and stents and IV medication and hospital stays.
Shall bounce back shortly.
Wednesday, October 29, 2008
Torn into two..
I remember hearing older women saying that they could not go anywhere alone because their husband are helpless without them. I remember hearing this and being annoyed with them for putting themselves in a situation where the man of the house wont be able to find his toothbrush without the woman putting the paste on it for him and handing it over to him. For having to starve if she is gone, going out in crushed, dirty clothes coz he knows not how to wash and iron. Gender based roles being played at their extreme. I hated it.
I also remember hoping that marriage would not change anything much. But then I would see my aunts coming to meet us without the husbands and then letting their hair down with their mother. I also remember cousins not being able to come and spend the night chatting as the husbands would take them away after dinner, not being able to talk on the phone for long etc. I used to wonder why, and get annoyed that the woman needed to be taken away, back to her married home, by what seemed like force. Against her internal will and wishes. She went quietly..and I thought..that wont happen to me. I shall go and come as I please and nothing will change.
Well, realization has struck. I would love to go and stay with my mother for a few weeks, knowing that the husband shall survive without me. He is capable of making Dum Aloos and Palak Paneer, so the kitchen is safe, he is sort of capable of finding his own things, even in a mess of his creation, he kind of knows where his things are unless I have moved them. He is ok with a fast internet connection and a Nikon within arms reach. I am sure he shall miss me etc etc..but he is an independent person.
However I am in torn into two. The need to go home, get to India, and the need to stay back and be with him. My love for my mother and family, it seems, occupies a different sector of my heart and is there permanently and does not overlap of overshadow the sector of my heart that loves the husband. Its weird, wanting to go, but not really, wanting to stay, but not really. And I know what is going to happen..the usual..when I am here I want to be there with mum, when I am with mum I want to be here with him. The solution perhaps lies in living in a house that contains both these people! But that is not always possible.
Thus the realization has struck that perhaps some of these aforementioned women went home because they HAD to, while the others seemed to make noises about not wanting to go, but doing so happily, as they missed their spouse. Perhaps they were, like me, torn into two.
Possible?....
I also remember hoping that marriage would not change anything much. But then I would see my aunts coming to meet us without the husbands and then letting their hair down with their mother. I also remember cousins not being able to come and spend the night chatting as the husbands would take them away after dinner, not being able to talk on the phone for long etc. I used to wonder why, and get annoyed that the woman needed to be taken away, back to her married home, by what seemed like force. Against her internal will and wishes. She went quietly..and I thought..that wont happen to me. I shall go and come as I please and nothing will change.
Well, realization has struck. I would love to go and stay with my mother for a few weeks, knowing that the husband shall survive without me. He is capable of making Dum Aloos and Palak Paneer, so the kitchen is safe, he is sort of capable of finding his own things, even in a mess of his creation, he kind of knows where his things are unless I have moved them. He is ok with a fast internet connection and a Nikon within arms reach. I am sure he shall miss me etc etc..but he is an independent person.
However I am in torn into two. The need to go home, get to India, and the need to stay back and be with him. My love for my mother and family, it seems, occupies a different sector of my heart and is there permanently and does not overlap of overshadow the sector of my heart that loves the husband. Its weird, wanting to go, but not really, wanting to stay, but not really. And I know what is going to happen..the usual..when I am here I want to be there with mum, when I am with mum I want to be here with him. The solution perhaps lies in living in a house that contains both these people! But that is not always possible.
Thus the realization has struck that perhaps some of these aforementioned women went home because they HAD to, while the others seemed to make noises about not wanting to go, but doing so happily, as they missed their spouse. Perhaps they were, like me, torn into two.
Possible?....
Friday, October 24, 2008
I Love You
He sat there, surveying the world from his seat. Blond eyelashes flicking up and down to see things and people as they passed by. A frown of concentration furrowing his brow. His shoe kicked the air and he resettled his padded bottom into his pushchair.
Sticky bright pink sweet in mouth, he looked up with blue eyes with flecks of green.
"I love you mummy", he said.
"Love you too", said she.
She bends over to reach him and asks, "Wont you share your sweets with your dad?"
Out came the sweet from his mouth, dripping with sugar, colour and saliva and also LOVE. He took it out of his mouth with his grubby, chubby fingers and offered his sweet to his father.
"I love you daddy" he said.
Sticky bright pink sweet in mouth, he looked up with blue eyes with flecks of green.
"I love you mummy", he said.
"Love you too", said she.
She bends over to reach him and asks, "Wont you share your sweets with your dad?"
Out came the sweet from his mouth, dripping with sugar, colour and saliva and also LOVE. He took it out of his mouth with his grubby, chubby fingers and offered his sweet to his father.
"I love you daddy" he said.
Tuesday, October 21, 2008
I am Stoned
Well looks like the bad days are here to stay. I have been in and out of hospital, for a few weeks, with the most excruciating pain I have ever had the misfortune to feel...was diagnosed with Kidney Stones and sent home with truck loads of painkillers and antibiotics. Have been asked to join the queue that social medicine demands. Was told to wait for further instructions about when I shall be seen/ operated/ cured and sent home. So the days go by in bed, being in and out of chemical induced sleep. However this blog is not (always) about the mundane inanities of my life...so I shall tell you the deepest secret I have held inside me since I was born.
This secret was discovered through one of the tests that I underwent at hospital, to understand why I was in so much pain, whereby a dye was injected into my body to see what is inside me. Dye injected and 20 mins later I am X-Rayed. And then on a computer screen came the image. The doctor sat there scratching his head. Trying to locate the stone in my kidney it seems. While the husband and I sat there, just staring at the screen. Something did not seem right. Well..I seem to have 't(w)o many' things inside me..I seemed to have more than 2 kidneys...yes I have three.
Ladies and gentlemen I have been blessed with 3 kidneys and now know the reason for never suffering from hangovers. Ever, despite drinking copious amounts of alcohol in small spaces of time.
Apparently its called a 'Duplex' system and means I have an extra kidney. Strange things. The weirdness of life just got multiplied 10 fold. Much thinking of strange thoughts and speaking them out happened. Why? How? Does it mean anything strange/ sinister? Do I need to have it removed? What the long term impact? I was told that its not so strange apparently.
Once the initial shock wore off..the jokes began..about going on vacation by selling the third kidney, about being a tri-renal beast, about being just about human, about being able to give love from the bottom of all my three kidneys, about out drinking all people, about eating extra for all my organs etc etc..When the stone was discovered I was told that Beer helps. Now I am being told to drink up..afterall three kidneys can do a much better job of filtering and cleaning than 2!!
The joke has now moved towards my being called a Medical Tourist, I can get things sorted in 2 weeks in India..while the National Health Service is going to see me only at the end of Nov to start solving my problems..hmm. Hospitals in India now welcome Medical tourists with open arms, as can be seen at the Apollo hospitals website, dedicated to welcoming International patients at the airport itself. They have a special marketing division, with costs in US $ for anyone who wants to come in. The idea being medicine should be accessible to all..preferably those who are able pay in the case of Apollo I would think. But I am not complaining..no just discovering the world with my new found kidn-eye-s!!
On top of all this I spent Saturday night watching Michael Moore's film Sicko...again...liked where his jaw drops open when he sees the NHS hospital in Hammersmith paying patients money for the cost of transport to and from the hospital. Not complaining anymore about NHS.
....still in shock over too many things and the randomness of my life..burnt my finger this morning too..looks like the bad days are here to stay and I should start writing pleasantly surprised entries for when I do have a good day or two.
This secret was discovered through one of the tests that I underwent at hospital, to understand why I was in so much pain, whereby a dye was injected into my body to see what is inside me. Dye injected and 20 mins later I am X-Rayed. And then on a computer screen came the image. The doctor sat there scratching his head. Trying to locate the stone in my kidney it seems. While the husband and I sat there, just staring at the screen. Something did not seem right. Well..I seem to have 't(w)o many' things inside me..I seemed to have more than 2 kidneys...yes I have three.
Ladies and gentlemen I have been blessed with 3 kidneys and now know the reason for never suffering from hangovers. Ever, despite drinking copious amounts of alcohol in small spaces of time.
Apparently its called a 'Duplex' system and means I have an extra kidney. Strange things. The weirdness of life just got multiplied 10 fold. Much thinking of strange thoughts and speaking them out happened. Why? How? Does it mean anything strange/ sinister? Do I need to have it removed? What the long term impact? I was told that its not so strange apparently.
Once the initial shock wore off..the jokes began..about going on vacation by selling the third kidney, about being a tri-renal beast, about being just about human, about being able to give love from the bottom of all my three kidneys, about out drinking all people, about eating extra for all my organs etc etc..When the stone was discovered I was told that Beer helps. Now I am being told to drink up..afterall three kidneys can do a much better job of filtering and cleaning than 2!!
The joke has now moved towards my being called a Medical Tourist, I can get things sorted in 2 weeks in India..while the National Health Service is going to see me only at the end of Nov to start solving my problems..hmm. Hospitals in India now welcome Medical tourists with open arms, as can be seen at the Apollo hospitals website, dedicated to welcoming International patients at the airport itself. They have a special marketing division, with costs in US $ for anyone who wants to come in. The idea being medicine should be accessible to all..preferably those who are able pay in the case of Apollo I would think. But I am not complaining..no just discovering the world with my new found kidn-eye-s!!
On top of all this I spent Saturday night watching Michael Moore's film Sicko...again...liked where his jaw drops open when he sees the NHS hospital in Hammersmith paying patients money for the cost of transport to and from the hospital. Not complaining anymore about NHS.
....still in shock over too many things and the randomness of my life..burnt my finger this morning too..looks like the bad days are here to stay and I should start writing pleasantly surprised entries for when I do have a good day or two.
Friday, October 17, 2008
The Queen Googles.
There is a Royal Channel on YouTube..and it now has the video of the Queen's visit to Google offices in London. I like the Queen's reaction to the giggling baby video on youtube, the excited American employees and the accent in Nikesh Arora's English,"google is about cool, quirky, funky things"
Sure thing...must be they have seen a 26% rise in profits.., its the best company to work for according to The Fortune online..
Google is also 4th out of the 20 most admired companies in the world..and Eric Schmidt, Larry Page, and Sergei Brin are the 4th most powerful men in business today..*
The Queens visit to Google..seems slightly ironical to me..or is it just me?
*If you are wondering about the first 3..well Apple and Steve Jobs..Goldman Sachs..(!!??!!) News Corp..etc beat them to it..
Sure thing...must be they have seen a 26% rise in profits.., its the best company to work for according to The Fortune online..
Google is also 4th out of the 20 most admired companies in the world..and Eric Schmidt, Larry Page, and Sergei Brin are the 4th most powerful men in business today..*
The Queens visit to Google..seems slightly ironical to me..or is it just me?
*If you are wondering about the first 3..well Apple and Steve Jobs..Goldman Sachs..(!!??!!) News Corp..etc beat them to it..
Monday, October 13, 2008
Of Dust..
Lately have been ill, and thus have been lying in bed, high on pain killers and medication. Which means the man is incharge of the house..the cooking and cleaning and washing and shopping. Needless to say he now knows where things are in the house, things like the washing powder, disinfectant wipes, broom and brushes, he knew about the vacuum cleaner etc..he does help you know...
So I spent the weekend lying down to watch TV and come in and out of sleep, while he hoovered the house, cleaned the kitchen and bathroom, washed machine loads of clothes and loaded the dishwasher. He also proceeded to cook dinner (and lunch) for me.
The conversation last night was about dusting, a concept alien to most men. The Man says, ' I dont understand dusting'...the eternal debate of dusting first and or vacuum is like a chicken and egg conversation in the house. He does not see the point, or for that matter the dust. Which lead me to point out, that it nneeds doing or, he shall be able to write things in the dust on things. Specially things like the TV screen, which he proceeded to explain with the tiring wisdom only seen in engineers talking to non engineers...that the TV screen attracts dust. Which lead me to point out..dust falls everywhere and needs cleaning.
He does not agree, so now i am planning to write things on surfaces once they have been coated with dust..
The few smart arse lines that came to mind were:
~ can you see me?
~ this is dust..
~ If you can read this, clean me
~ I love you
~ Hah! proved you wrong
~ Dust is a fact of life
~ Nobody loves me
~ I demand cleaning
~ Wife is right, dust exists
~ Eat Dust!
So I spent the weekend lying down to watch TV and come in and out of sleep, while he hoovered the house, cleaned the kitchen and bathroom, washed machine loads of clothes and loaded the dishwasher. He also proceeded to cook dinner (and lunch) for me.
The conversation last night was about dusting, a concept alien to most men. The Man says, ' I dont understand dusting'...the eternal debate of dusting first and or vacuum is like a chicken and egg conversation in the house. He does not see the point, or for that matter the dust. Which lead me to point out, that it nneeds doing or, he shall be able to write things in the dust on things. Specially things like the TV screen, which he proceeded to explain with the tiring wisdom only seen in engineers talking to non engineers...that the TV screen attracts dust. Which lead me to point out..dust falls everywhere and needs cleaning.
He does not agree, so now i am planning to write things on surfaces once they have been coated with dust..
The few smart arse lines that came to mind were:
~ can you see me?
~ this is dust..
~ If you can read this, clean me
~ I love you
~ Hah! proved you wrong
~ Dust is a fact of life
~ Nobody loves me
~ I demand cleaning
~ Wife is right, dust exists
~ Eat Dust!
Thursday, October 09, 2008
Johann Wolfgang Von Goethe
Goethe's Faust...(Part I, Scene III)
Mephistopheles
I am the spirit, ever, that denies!
And rightly so: since everything created,
In turn deserves to be annihilated:
Better if nothing came to be.
So all that you call Sin, you see,
Destruction, in short, what you’ve meant
By Evil is my true element.
Faust
You call yourself a part, yet seem complete to me?
Mephistopheles
I’m speaking the truth to you, and modestly.
Even if Man’s accustomed to take
His small world for the Whole, that’s his mistake:
I’m part of the part, that once was - everything,
Part of the darkness, from which Light, issuing,
Proud Light, emergent, disputed the highest place
With its mother Night, the bounds of Space,
And yet won nothing, however hard it tried,
Still stuck to Bodily Things, and so denied.
It flows from bodies, which it beautifies,
I hope the day’s not far away
When it, along with all these bodies, dies.
Faust
Now I see the plan you follow!
You can’t destroy it all, and so
You’re working on a smaller scale.
Mephistopheles
And frankly it’s a sorry tale.
What’s set against the Nothingness,
The Something, World’s clumsiness,
Despite everything I’ve tried,
Won’t become a nothing: though I’d
Storms, quakes, and fires on every hand,
It deigned to stay as sea and land!
And those Men and creatures, all the damned,
It’s no use my owning any of that crew:
How many I’ve already done with too!
Yet new fresh blood is always going round.
So it goes on, men make me furious!
With water, earth and air, of course,
A thousand buds unfurl
In wet and dry, warm and cold!
And if I hadn’t kept back fire of old,
I’d have nothing left at all.
Mephistopheles
I am the spirit, ever, that denies!
And rightly so: since everything created,
In turn deserves to be annihilated:
Better if nothing came to be.
So all that you call Sin, you see,
Destruction, in short, what you’ve meant
By Evil is my true element.
Faust
You call yourself a part, yet seem complete to me?
Mephistopheles
I’m speaking the truth to you, and modestly.
Even if Man’s accustomed to take
His small world for the Whole, that’s his mistake:
I’m part of the part, that once was - everything,
Part of the darkness, from which Light, issuing,
Proud Light, emergent, disputed the highest place
With its mother Night, the bounds of Space,
And yet won nothing, however hard it tried,
Still stuck to Bodily Things, and so denied.
It flows from bodies, which it beautifies,
I hope the day’s not far away
When it, along with all these bodies, dies.
Faust
Now I see the plan you follow!
You can’t destroy it all, and so
You’re working on a smaller scale.
Mephistopheles
And frankly it’s a sorry tale.
What’s set against the Nothingness,
The Something, World’s clumsiness,
Despite everything I’ve tried,
Won’t become a nothing: though I’d
Storms, quakes, and fires on every hand,
It deigned to stay as sea and land!
And those Men and creatures, all the damned,
It’s no use my owning any of that crew:
How many I’ve already done with too!
Yet new fresh blood is always going round.
So it goes on, men make me furious!
With water, earth and air, of course,
A thousand buds unfurl
In wet and dry, warm and cold!
And if I hadn’t kept back fire of old,
I’d have nothing left at all.
Wednesday, October 01, 2008
Making Mistakes
As a parent you never want your child to come to any harm. You want to make the best decisions for them, and you hope in time your children make the best decision themselves. However the point of letting go, which opens the possibility of mistakes occurring is a scary one. When is it right? if ever?
Letting go, and saying, your life, you decide. I will not push you, pester you, into behaving and doing things which I (the parent) would be happy with, is hard. Its hard to not emphasize, insist, brainwash, convince and often also use emotional blackmail, knowing or unknowingly.
As a child I sometimes found it hard to do what I wanted, as I knew I shall meet my mothers disapproval. I found it hard to resist things, but I knew I could not disappoint my mother. Being the middle child, I got over the 'approval' need mighty quick. Soon I would do what I wanted, which often lead to arguements, fights and many a tears for me, but never lies.
My mother is a tough cookie and she is not open to manipulation. Sad. She has seen through me, and continues to do so even today. She was not the modern parent, who wants to be a 'friend' and a popular one at that. Often being a friend of your child makes it unfair to pull rank as a parent when needed. We cant always be liked, and often doing things in the best interest of your child, is met by tantrums and 'i dont like you' type of comments. I guess its part of the job. Being disliked is the price you pay for correcting and guiding your child. And its often the harder route. Agreement and popularity and ease of parenting come as a package, at a steep cost.
It is only later in life that I could make decisions independently and stick to them. Initially I found hard taking decisions which my parents did not like/ were not in agreement with me. They said so clearly, this is what We think, now its up to you. hmmm! Tough one that. Sometimes the ma-isms were tacked on for further effect.
In my mid twenties, my mother told me something, which I will always remember. She said, we parents are like hands, we hold you when you are small, as you grow, we help you walk, and then the hands stand by your side, protecting you, but not holding you. If you fall, we shall pick you up, but dont keep turning around to check, we are here, always, walk ahead, confidently, make decisions as an individual, because standing as we are behind you with our support, we cant see what you see. Walk ahead, knowing that if you stumble or fall we will be there.
What she later added was, our life experiences are different, you see things which I cant imagine, you meet people, see places, do things which I have not. Your decisions are based on your sight. I am a parent, but sadly, now that you have grown up, you need to be let into another secret, I (mother) dont know everything. No I am not the walking encyclopedia you thought I was as a child. I know a lot, but not everything. This I admit came as a surprise. Mum not knowing everything, meant she could make mistakes too. This was hard to digest and took me a while to get my head around.
That I think is parenting, letting the child know what you think, what is right, wrong, black, white and also grey, and also your own limits as a parent. And let them decide. You can not influence them or push them without getting a reaction. You cant be popular or liked all the time. You dont own them. They have their own personalities, character traits and destiny. As a parent, you just need to be there. Always, unconditionally, without sarcasm, scathing remarks or bitterness. Dont chase your children away with disapproval, welcome them to discussion! Let them grow into thinking individuals who see logic and reason and have the confidence to chase their own dreams.
Letting go, and saying, your life, you decide. I will not push you, pester you, into behaving and doing things which I (the parent) would be happy with, is hard. Its hard to not emphasize, insist, brainwash, convince and often also use emotional blackmail, knowing or unknowingly.
As a child I sometimes found it hard to do what I wanted, as I knew I shall meet my mothers disapproval. I found it hard to resist things, but I knew I could not disappoint my mother. Being the middle child, I got over the 'approval' need mighty quick. Soon I would do what I wanted, which often lead to arguements, fights and many a tears for me, but never lies.
My mother is a tough cookie and she is not open to manipulation. Sad. She has seen through me, and continues to do so even today. She was not the modern parent, who wants to be a 'friend' and a popular one at that. Often being a friend of your child makes it unfair to pull rank as a parent when needed. We cant always be liked, and often doing things in the best interest of your child, is met by tantrums and 'i dont like you' type of comments. I guess its part of the job. Being disliked is the price you pay for correcting and guiding your child. And its often the harder route. Agreement and popularity and ease of parenting come as a package, at a steep cost.
It is only later in life that I could make decisions independently and stick to them. Initially I found hard taking decisions which my parents did not like/ were not in agreement with me. They said so clearly, this is what We think, now its up to you. hmmm! Tough one that. Sometimes the ma-isms were tacked on for further effect.
In my mid twenties, my mother told me something, which I will always remember. She said, we parents are like hands, we hold you when you are small, as you grow, we help you walk, and then the hands stand by your side, protecting you, but not holding you. If you fall, we shall pick you up, but dont keep turning around to check, we are here, always, walk ahead, confidently, make decisions as an individual, because standing as we are behind you with our support, we cant see what you see. Walk ahead, knowing that if you stumble or fall we will be there.
What she later added was, our life experiences are different, you see things which I cant imagine, you meet people, see places, do things which I have not. Your decisions are based on your sight. I am a parent, but sadly, now that you have grown up, you need to be let into another secret, I (mother) dont know everything. No I am not the walking encyclopedia you thought I was as a child. I know a lot, but not everything. This I admit came as a surprise. Mum not knowing everything, meant she could make mistakes too. This was hard to digest and took me a while to get my head around.
That I think is parenting, letting the child know what you think, what is right, wrong, black, white and also grey, and also your own limits as a parent. And let them decide. You can not influence them or push them without getting a reaction. You cant be popular or liked all the time. You dont own them. They have their own personalities, character traits and destiny. As a parent, you just need to be there. Always, unconditionally, without sarcasm, scathing remarks or bitterness. Dont chase your children away with disapproval, welcome them to discussion! Let them grow into thinking individuals who see logic and reason and have the confidence to chase their own dreams.
Monday, September 29, 2008
The return to Lahore
Eight generations of my family lived in Lahore. We are a Kashmiri Pandit family who had lived for many years in the same 'haveli' in the same location for generations. All that changed in 1947 when my grandparents packed themselves and their children, my father and his three sisters, and moved to Allahabad, as India got divided into two. The hindus moved across to India, and the Muslims moved to Pakistan, causing untold misery, death and devastation.
As a child I heard stories from my Dada (Grandpa) about his life in Lahore, the haveli, the paintings, the gardens, the library, the temple in the house, the well in the house, the furniture, his cameras, his friends, his walks, his college (Govt College Lahore) and then the sudden decision to move. He mentioned these things as memories, fond ones, I never heard a hint of bitterness or regret in his voice. He always believed in fate and destiny, and what is not meant for you, will never be yours kind of thinking. He missed his life there and at the age of 37 when he moved to India, he found it tough. They were compensated by the Indian govt for their losses in Pakistan and in his case the compensation was substantial (from my perspective) but nothing in comparison to what he had left behind, but hey, it was something. My grandma never spoke of Lahore. She had managed to dig out a Hanuman and a Kali from their home and those statues are in the temple in my house even now. She did smuggle some of her jewellery by stitching it to the insides of her clothes, some of which I now own, but she lost a lot more material wealth and peace of mind, then what she was compensated for.
Time passed. No bitterness or regret was heard. They mentioned once that they would like to go and see their home before they died, but that did not happen.
My father, who was very young when they left and had seen many pictures and heard far more stories than me decided to go to Lahore. It was the first time, someone from my family would go back.
He walked to what used to be his house and its vast grounds. It now is a block of apartments and the grounds have been turned into a market place, so there are no open spaces or trees, just a large old building (being a listed one, it still stands) surrounded by a market. He saw the name of his ancestors, still there, engraved in marble, attached to the boundary walls of the market.
He then went scouting around to his maternal grandmothers house, they were also Kashmir and had lived for many generations in the same house, in Lahore. He walked along the road, but again it was unreconizable, so he stopped and asked an old man if he knew about the Haveli and its grounds and whereabout they were. The man asked him why he wanted to know, to which my father replied, they were his grandparents and he was looking for their house. The man asked him if he knew what the neighbours were called, my father said the names and the old man's eyes lit up. He walked my father to the Fatima Jinnah Medical College, the old house had been sectioned into three blocks, with five apartments in each block. The grounds of the house now held towering blocks of the Jinnah Medical college's hostels for women!
The old man asked my father to stay and talk, but being in a rush he could not stop. The man asked him to come for a longer time when he was free and they could talk about the past.
From the sounds of it, my father was quite taken by what he saw. He did not know what to expect. He still owns old architectural plans of the house and its grounds, he has photographs of his mother as a newly wed yougn girl, sitting around the house. I have photos of my grandfather standing along with his fellow Kashmiri friends in his house. They are all memories, of lives transformed by politics and religion. However there is no resentment or regrets. Dada did not believe in wasting time regretting thing, life was too short. Live it to its full he always said, he did.
As a child I heard stories from my Dada (Grandpa) about his life in Lahore, the haveli, the paintings, the gardens, the library, the temple in the house, the well in the house, the furniture, his cameras, his friends, his walks, his college (Govt College Lahore) and then the sudden decision to move. He mentioned these things as memories, fond ones, I never heard a hint of bitterness or regret in his voice. He always believed in fate and destiny, and what is not meant for you, will never be yours kind of thinking. He missed his life there and at the age of 37 when he moved to India, he found it tough. They were compensated by the Indian govt for their losses in Pakistan and in his case the compensation was substantial (from my perspective) but nothing in comparison to what he had left behind, but hey, it was something. My grandma never spoke of Lahore. She had managed to dig out a Hanuman and a Kali from their home and those statues are in the temple in my house even now. She did smuggle some of her jewellery by stitching it to the insides of her clothes, some of which I now own, but she lost a lot more material wealth and peace of mind, then what she was compensated for.
Time passed. No bitterness or regret was heard. They mentioned once that they would like to go and see their home before they died, but that did not happen.
My father, who was very young when they left and had seen many pictures and heard far more stories than me decided to go to Lahore. It was the first time, someone from my family would go back.
He walked to what used to be his house and its vast grounds. It now is a block of apartments and the grounds have been turned into a market place, so there are no open spaces or trees, just a large old building (being a listed one, it still stands) surrounded by a market. He saw the name of his ancestors, still there, engraved in marble, attached to the boundary walls of the market.
He then went scouting around to his maternal grandmothers house, they were also Kashmir and had lived for many generations in the same house, in Lahore. He walked along the road, but again it was unreconizable, so he stopped and asked an old man if he knew about the Haveli and its grounds and whereabout they were. The man asked him why he wanted to know, to which my father replied, they were his grandparents and he was looking for their house. The man asked him if he knew what the neighbours were called, my father said the names and the old man's eyes lit up. He walked my father to the Fatima Jinnah Medical College, the old house had been sectioned into three blocks, with five apartments in each block. The grounds of the house now held towering blocks of the Jinnah Medical college's hostels for women!
The old man asked my father to stay and talk, but being in a rush he could not stop. The man asked him to come for a longer time when he was free and they could talk about the past.
From the sounds of it, my father was quite taken by what he saw. He did not know what to expect. He still owns old architectural plans of the house and its grounds, he has photographs of his mother as a newly wed yougn girl, sitting around the house. I have photos of my grandfather standing along with his fellow Kashmiri friends in his house. They are all memories, of lives transformed by politics and religion. However there is no resentment or regrets. Dada did not believe in wasting time regretting thing, life was too short. Live it to its full he always said, he did.
Thursday, September 25, 2008
Bad Day II
So the story continues. After being stung, jabbed, jabbed and cut (in reverse oreder), I thought I would come home and rest. No such luck it seems. After trawling through Yahoo Answers about, 'Shard of glass in foot' *
I decided I shall need to sort my foot out. Off to A&E and X-Rays later I was told, yup, there is a shard in your foot. We shall get it out under local anaesthesia.
Conversation:
Doc: Little jab under your foot and then we can cut out the glass
Me: I am not brave, have had an overdose of injections in the past 2 days
Doc: Leave glass in, it will only get septic
Me: Will it hurt?
Doc: The injection under your foot will be VERY painful, grit your teeth, then you will be ok
Me: Mommy!!!
Doc: Here we go.
Me: YIKES!
Doc: all done, now let me see where this glass is.
Me: ok (small voice)
Doc: Dont want to cut your foot, so shall try push it out
Me: (silence, I want to die)
Doc: Nope, this is not coming out (goes gets a fancily wrapped sterile scissor)
SNIP! SNIP!
Me: no pain, I am ok
Doc: (smiles, knowingly, he is thinking, HA! she will know when the anaesthesia wears off)
Doc: I see it.
he gets out this piece of glass, puts it in some tissue and hands it over to me.
All done. Go home, rest.
I think I shall get home, lock myself in a cupboard and sit still till bad luck and bad days are over. And I am able to leave home without cutting myself, stabbing myself, getting stung or getting any other injuries.
Bad days (shaking head) bad days (shaking head)
Needless to say, my mother wants to visit the local priest and ask him to say some prayers on my behalf, obviously my daily praying is doing me no good just yet.
*sometimes being an internet hypochondriac helps!
I decided I shall need to sort my foot out. Off to A&E and X-Rays later I was told, yup, there is a shard in your foot. We shall get it out under local anaesthesia.
Conversation:
Doc: Little jab under your foot and then we can cut out the glass
Me: I am not brave, have had an overdose of injections in the past 2 days
Doc: Leave glass in, it will only get septic
Me: Will it hurt?
Doc: The injection under your foot will be VERY painful, grit your teeth, then you will be ok
Me: Mommy!!!
Doc: Here we go.
Me: YIKES!
Doc: all done, now let me see where this glass is.
Me: ok (small voice)
Doc: Dont want to cut your foot, so shall try push it out
Me: (silence, I want to die)
Doc: Nope, this is not coming out (goes gets a fancily wrapped sterile scissor)
SNIP! SNIP!
Me: no pain, I am ok
Doc: (smiles, knowingly, he is thinking, HA! she will know when the anaesthesia wears off)
Doc: I see it.
he gets out this piece of glass, puts it in some tissue and hands it over to me.
All done. Go home, rest.
I think I shall get home, lock myself in a cupboard and sit still till bad luck and bad days are over. And I am able to leave home without cutting myself, stabbing myself, getting stung or getting any other injuries.
Bad days (shaking head) bad days (shaking head)
Needless to say, my mother wants to visit the local priest and ask him to say some prayers on my behalf, obviously my daily praying is doing me no good just yet.
*sometimes being an internet hypochondriac helps!
Wednesday, September 24, 2008
Men with sexist views 'earn more'
From the BBC's health section..
---------------------------
Men who grow up thinking women should stay at home may be labelled "old-fashioned" - but could end up well ahead in the salary stakes.
A US study, published in the Journal of Applied Psychology, suggests that they will consistently out-earn more "modern-thinking" men.
On average, this meant an extra $8,500 (£4,722) a year.
One UK psychologist said men inclined to wield power in their relationships might also do this at work.
It could be that more traditionally-minded men are interested in power, both in terms of access to resources - money in this case - and also in terms of a woman who is submissive, Dr Magdalena Zawisza, Winchester University
The study, carried out by researchers at the University of Florida, was conducted on a large scale, with 12,686 men and women interviewed in 1979, when they were aged between 14 and 22, and three times in the following two decades, the last time in 2005.
The researchers asked them whether they believed a woman's place was in the home, or whether the employment of women was likely to lead to higher rates of juvenile delinquency.
Predictably, more men tended to hold these views than women, although the gap has narrowed significantly over time.
However, when the men were asked about their salaries, another gap emerged, with those holding "traditional" views earning significantly more.
Conversely, women who held the opposite view did earn slightly more, on average $1,500 (£833) more than women with "traditional" views.
Dr Timothy Judge, one of the researchers, said: "More traditional people may be seeking to preserve the historical separation of work and domestic roles - our results prove that is, in fact, the case."
Dr Magdalena Zawisza, a psychologist from Winchester University, said that there were a number of theories which might explain the difference.
She said: "It could be that more traditionally-minded men are interested in power, both in terms of access to resources - money in this case - and also in terms of a woman who is submissive.
"Another theory suggests that employers are more likely to promote men who are the sole earner in preference to those who do not - they recognise that they need more support for their families, because they are the breadwinner."
-------------------------
Do hope the Man has not read this :)
---------------------------
Men who grow up thinking women should stay at home may be labelled "old-fashioned" - but could end up well ahead in the salary stakes.
A US study, published in the Journal of Applied Psychology, suggests that they will consistently out-earn more "modern-thinking" men.
On average, this meant an extra $8,500 (£4,722) a year.
One UK psychologist said men inclined to wield power in their relationships might also do this at work.
It could be that more traditionally-minded men are interested in power, both in terms of access to resources - money in this case - and also in terms of a woman who is submissive, Dr Magdalena Zawisza, Winchester University
The study, carried out by researchers at the University of Florida, was conducted on a large scale, with 12,686 men and women interviewed in 1979, when they were aged between 14 and 22, and three times in the following two decades, the last time in 2005.
The researchers asked them whether they believed a woman's place was in the home, or whether the employment of women was likely to lead to higher rates of juvenile delinquency.
Predictably, more men tended to hold these views than women, although the gap has narrowed significantly over time.
However, when the men were asked about their salaries, another gap emerged, with those holding "traditional" views earning significantly more.
Conversely, women who held the opposite view did earn slightly more, on average $1,500 (£833) more than women with "traditional" views.
Dr Timothy Judge, one of the researchers, said: "More traditional people may be seeking to preserve the historical separation of work and domestic roles - our results prove that is, in fact, the case."
Dr Magdalena Zawisza, a psychologist from Winchester University, said that there were a number of theories which might explain the difference.
She said: "It could be that more traditionally-minded men are interested in power, both in terms of access to resources - money in this case - and also in terms of a woman who is submissive.
"Another theory suggests that employers are more likely to promote men who are the sole earner in preference to those who do not - they recognise that they need more support for their families, because they are the breadwinner."
-------------------------
Do hope the Man has not read this :)
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