Jivo Jivo Pakistan
At the Wagah Border between India and Pakistan, during the fancy change-of-guard ceremony every evening, the Pakistani crowd lustily chants ‘Jivo Jivo Pakistan’.
Boy am I glad India got partitioned in 1947. The problems that Pakistan faces are horrendous and I shudder to think that those problems could have been ours too. Sometimes, just sometimes I feel sorry for them..the tribals are difficult to handle, the Taliban is a nuisance and there are terrorist attacks all across Pakistan.They have killed their leaders for reasons ranging from gender to religion.They attack visiting cricket teams and their poor cricketers are trying to make a fast buck out of match fixing. They are Don Quixotic - suing Twitter for one million dollars and blaming India for almost everything.
Most of their problems are their own doing. When religion takes precedence over governance, and religious leaders become more powerful, the fabric of the society is bound to change.And when there is less regard for its citizens there is a free for all.
And what a shame to have the US carry out attacks in Pakistan to flush out a terrorist! I would have been mortified and angered if the Americans did it in my country!
Most of us, especially from North India have this romantic notion of Pakistan and a hidden yearning that Pakistan should still belong to India. My grandparents grew up there, married there and then escaped to India to save their lives. They would tell us of the lush countryside and the local folklore of Rawalpindi and Sukho. As a Sardarni I would love the freedom to visit Nankana Sahib, the birthplace of Guru Nanak. There was so much shared culture in literature, food, clothing and rituals. Then ofcourse the lovely Mohenjo-daro and Harappa are also in Pakistan.
But there is nothing romantic in the notion of Pakistan. Anyone who has any money is leaving the country to never go back. Who would want to bring up their kids in a country where everything is so bizarre! Where my friend says you would not want to go to a beauty parlour for fear of a bomb attack.A country that is always bleating about its good intentions that everyone doubts anyways!
I am glad Pakistan is a buffer for India (never mind if it focuses its negativity on us!)And I am glad it got formed and hope it remains a country forever.
Jivo Jivo Pakistan.
Monday, May 2, 2011
Monday, April 25, 2011
The Power of 40
At 40, there is plenty of anxiety! Most of us are well on our way to the top rungs of the Corporate hierarchy and are making good money! And may buy a BMW and feel pleased as punch when a young wannabe looks our way (but frankly, she would like to see a younger dude).
We may joke and say that 40 is the new 30, but hello, deep down all of us are not so very happy about it! Menopause is looming large on the horizon and the bloody weight does not shift an inch no matter how much u exercise. Kids are growing up and the empty nest will become a reality only a few years from now. And wrinkles are supposed to showcase the events in our lives, but it is not a pleasant sight to see them and neither are the grey hair!Many job opportunities don’t look for someone in their 40s!
I read this piece some days ago and am looking for a way to rejoice being 40! And here it is - for all my friends who are 40 or going to be there in a while!
In mystic thought, 40 symbolizes the ascent from one level to a higher one and spiritual awakening.
When we mourn, we mourn for 40 days.
When a baby is born,it takes him 40 days to get ready to start life on earth.
When we are in love, we need to wait for 40 days to be sure of our feelings.
The Flood of Noah lasted 40 days and while the waters destroyed life, they also washed away all the impurities and enabled human beings to make a fresh, new start.
In Islamic mysticism there are 40 degrees between man and God.
There are 4 basic stages of consciousness and ten degrees in each, making 40 levels in all.
Jesus went into wilderness for 40 days and nights.
Muhammad was 40 years old when he received the call to become a prophet.
Buddha meditated under the linden tree for 40 days!
So apparently, you receive a new mission at 40, a new lease of life. And supposedly, there are no wrinkles or gray hair strong enough to defy the power of 40!
So go discover your mission, while I try and figure out mine!!!
We may joke and say that 40 is the new 30, but hello, deep down all of us are not so very happy about it! Menopause is looming large on the horizon and the bloody weight does not shift an inch no matter how much u exercise. Kids are growing up and the empty nest will become a reality only a few years from now. And wrinkles are supposed to showcase the events in our lives, but it is not a pleasant sight to see them and neither are the grey hair!Many job opportunities don’t look for someone in their 40s!
I read this piece some days ago and am looking for a way to rejoice being 40! And here it is - for all my friends who are 40 or going to be there in a while!
In mystic thought, 40 symbolizes the ascent from one level to a higher one and spiritual awakening.
When we mourn, we mourn for 40 days.
When a baby is born,it takes him 40 days to get ready to start life on earth.
When we are in love, we need to wait for 40 days to be sure of our feelings.
The Flood of Noah lasted 40 days and while the waters destroyed life, they also washed away all the impurities and enabled human beings to make a fresh, new start.
In Islamic mysticism there are 40 degrees between man and God.
There are 4 basic stages of consciousness and ten degrees in each, making 40 levels in all.
Jesus went into wilderness for 40 days and nights.
Muhammad was 40 years old when he received the call to become a prophet.
Buddha meditated under the linden tree for 40 days!
So apparently, you receive a new mission at 40, a new lease of life. And supposedly, there are no wrinkles or gray hair strong enough to defy the power of 40!
So go discover your mission, while I try and figure out mine!!!
Thursday, April 21, 2011
A Lazy Parent
I am one worrried parent today. Surrounded as I am by committed, zealous mothers and their super achiever kids, I feel I am failing in my maternal duty towards my kids. The only classes my kids attend are the ones in school, they have gadgets of all kinds, they watch loads of TV, they play on the computer all the time, they have not been deprived of any toy/clothing/object they have ever wanted, they eat junk and drink coke when they want and go for fancy holidays all the time.
Am I the lazy one here? I don’t know what they chat about with their friends on bbm or gmail or facebook. I don’t get up in the mornings and churn out goodies for their snack boxes. When their clothes become tight I realise they need new innerwear. And why am I a softie where they are concerned? Why can’t I force my will on them and get them to be excited about ‘something’,nay ‘anything’ in life? They have not found their groove yet and seem to be in no hurry to do so. They are nonchalant about comparison to other kids. They are not the top graders at school and are not competitive to want it either!
When I hear of kids who are committed to an activity or task, I start to get a headache. When I hear of kids who get up early morning and train for a game, even on weekends, I get palpitations. The Singh family seldom gets up before 11 and laze the day through.
And to excuse my laziness, I tell myself I am in a good space. My parents did not hover like helicopters over my head all the time. I had to do my own homework. Post school I was only in unstructured play. My best lazy summer days were spent in the company of a good book, a pack of crax and a bottle of campa-cola! Praneet’s favourite play was to fight a battle with the ants on his wall with his little water gun. My parents did not know of all my secrets with my friends and did not snoop on me. I did not go for any tuitions and did not learn to play any instrument.
And we turned out just fine. We did what was required and knew the limits of the freedom that we had been given to us. Finally, the responsibility of what we did was our own and no-one was to blame.
And the lazy me is going to give her kids just that childhood and hope that good things come off it. Will Udai become a computer whizkid? Will Nishna publish her first book as a teenager? Will they turn out to be good human beings and will they do well?Will they earn good money and find good life partners?
Who knows the answers to all this? All I know is that they will do everything they are destined to do! And in the meantime, we can all be happy and safe in our hugs, kisses, laughter, little secrets and lots of love!
Am I the lazy one here? I don’t know what they chat about with their friends on bbm or gmail or facebook. I don’t get up in the mornings and churn out goodies for their snack boxes. When their clothes become tight I realise they need new innerwear. And why am I a softie where they are concerned? Why can’t I force my will on them and get them to be excited about ‘something’,nay ‘anything’ in life? They have not found their groove yet and seem to be in no hurry to do so. They are nonchalant about comparison to other kids. They are not the top graders at school and are not competitive to want it either!
When I hear of kids who are committed to an activity or task, I start to get a headache. When I hear of kids who get up early morning and train for a game, even on weekends, I get palpitations. The Singh family seldom gets up before 11 and laze the day through.
And to excuse my laziness, I tell myself I am in a good space. My parents did not hover like helicopters over my head all the time. I had to do my own homework. Post school I was only in unstructured play. My best lazy summer days were spent in the company of a good book, a pack of crax and a bottle of campa-cola! Praneet’s favourite play was to fight a battle with the ants on his wall with his little water gun. My parents did not know of all my secrets with my friends and did not snoop on me. I did not go for any tuitions and did not learn to play any instrument.
And we turned out just fine. We did what was required and knew the limits of the freedom that we had been given to us. Finally, the responsibility of what we did was our own and no-one was to blame.
And the lazy me is going to give her kids just that childhood and hope that good things come off it. Will Udai become a computer whizkid? Will Nishna publish her first book as a teenager? Will they turn out to be good human beings and will they do well?Will they earn good money and find good life partners?
Who knows the answers to all this? All I know is that they will do everything they are destined to do! And in the meantime, we can all be happy and safe in our hugs, kisses, laughter, little secrets and lots of love!
Sunday, April 17, 2011
The Five Important Men in My Life!
Think about it... Most of our lives we are defined by the men in our families. I am Bakshi’s daughter, Praneet’s wife and Udai’s mother! Apart from these three men, there are other men who help me run my life and are critical to my mental, physical and emotional health.So here are the other 5 important men in my life
1. My bro-in-law - My bum-chum - the guy who boosts my ego the most! He thinks I am a great person and praises me at the drop of a hat. He always takes my calls! He is partial to me in any conflict and supports me through thick and thin! I can flirt endlessly with him without being misunderstood!
2. My driver - He is my Man Friday. He knows my schedule, knows what quantities of veggies and fruits to pick up and the music I like in the car. He selects and gets the bouquets made for all my friends for their birthdays. (Infact, hubby darling also gets him to get a bouquet for my birthday and anniversary!)The guy knows when to strike and ask for a raise or a holiday!
3. My trainer - He is relentless in trying to match my pursuit for losing weight. He also lends an ear to the inane conversation I make just to get through the training session. He knows how not to speak the truth and tell me that I have put on weight! He juggles his schedule for me and is always available.
4. The guy pals - A diverse bunch I value deeply! The strictly platonic friends who are there to see me through any minor or major crisis. Non judgemental and fond of me, these guys give me gyan and perspective on male and female behaviour! These are people I might share a hobby with and/or the friend I can match drink for drink and trust to be driven back home safe!
5. Males in the maid’s family - In order to keep peace at home, this group needs careful handling. So a cake on the son’s birthday or an advance when the husband asks for it is to be done asap. And these are the men I turn to when there is a conflict with the maid. I can trust them to make sure that my home runs smoothly at all times!
1. My bro-in-law - My bum-chum - the guy who boosts my ego the most! He thinks I am a great person and praises me at the drop of a hat. He always takes my calls! He is partial to me in any conflict and supports me through thick and thin! I can flirt endlessly with him without being misunderstood!
2. My driver - He is my Man Friday. He knows my schedule, knows what quantities of veggies and fruits to pick up and the music I like in the car. He selects and gets the bouquets made for all my friends for their birthdays. (Infact, hubby darling also gets him to get a bouquet for my birthday and anniversary!)The guy knows when to strike and ask for a raise or a holiday!
3. My trainer - He is relentless in trying to match my pursuit for losing weight. He also lends an ear to the inane conversation I make just to get through the training session. He knows how not to speak the truth and tell me that I have put on weight! He juggles his schedule for me and is always available.
4. The guy pals - A diverse bunch I value deeply! The strictly platonic friends who are there to see me through any minor or major crisis. Non judgemental and fond of me, these guys give me gyan and perspective on male and female behaviour! These are people I might share a hobby with and/or the friend I can match drink for drink and trust to be driven back home safe!
5. Males in the maid’s family - In order to keep peace at home, this group needs careful handling. So a cake on the son’s birthday or an advance when the husband asks for it is to be done asap. And these are the men I turn to when there is a conflict with the maid. I can trust them to make sure that my home runs smoothly at all times!
Saturday, March 19, 2011
Tarabai Shinde's Stripurushtulna
I chanced upon this while researching history. Powerful words from Tarabai Shinde's Stripurushtulna (A comparison of women and men)
Once a woman's husband has died...
Isin't a woman's life as dear to her as yours is to you? It's as if women are meant to be made from something different from men altogether, made from dust of earth or rock or rusted iron whereas you and your lives are made from the purest gold...
you are asking me what I mean. I mean once a woman's husband has died...what's in store for her? The barber comes to shave all the curls and hair off her head, just to cool your eyes. ..She is shut out from going to weddings, receptions and other auspicious occasions that married women go to.
And why all the restrictions? Because her husband has died. She is unlucky:ill fate is written on her forehead. Her face is not to be seen, it's a bad omen
Once a woman's husband has died...
Isin't a woman's life as dear to her as yours is to you? It's as if women are meant to be made from something different from men altogether, made from dust of earth or rock or rusted iron whereas you and your lives are made from the purest gold...
you are asking me what I mean. I mean once a woman's husband has died...what's in store for her? The barber comes to shave all the curls and hair off her head, just to cool your eyes. ..She is shut out from going to weddings, receptions and other auspicious occasions that married women go to.
And why all the restrictions? Because her husband has died. She is unlucky:ill fate is written on her forehead. Her face is not to be seen, it's a bad omen
Monday, March 14, 2011
Measure for Success
I was super ambitious when I was in school; fuelled by doing well in studies, sports and extra-curriculars and feted and peted by my principals and teachers, I believed I could conquer the world. My parents were focussed on giving me an education that would help me build a great career -and I dreamt of money, heading a business and taking my natural place in the Corporate order.I loved my first job and had a great time travelling across the country, even to places like Asansol, Patna and Dhanbad.
Then marriage and kids happened. And suddenly, much as I wanted to be a career woman, I could not bear to leave Nishna behind. Her little fingers tugged at my heart and I wanted to be with her. My mom kept nagging me to go back to work, but I could not. Praneet was on a roll and to be together meant that I had to give up work.
Those were good years, of sorts. I traveled the world, had another kid, but through it all, I itched to get back to work.
Going back to work after many years was a pleasure - getting up in the morning, getting ready, meeting people with whom you could share a coffee and gossip - and do interesting work.
It was not easy. My batchmates had moved way ahead of me and were heading divisions and/or companies, while I was no where near any of that. The years I had spent was an entreprenuer and the experiences I had gained because of that did not really count for anything. And ofcourse, I must be getting paid lesser than the MBA fresher.
All this does not really do good things for one’s ego.
My Mother always tells me to measure what I have gained against what my losses might be. I was lucky that I did not need to work for money, got to spend time with my kids and it is rewarding to see them grow into secure, confident, intelligent young adults.
It has not been pleasant to not have my own personal wealth (though truth be told, that did not stop me from spending Praneet’s money!).It makes me feel happy to see my friends so successful but it hurts coz I know I was as good, if not better.
After years I have eventually come back to what I love most - books. In my new freelancer capacity I write, read, edit and recommend good manuscripts. I get to curate the Kalaghoda festival and have made many friendships and business relationships because of that.
And today, I am at the crossroad of yet another decision - to stay at home for this year and write and nurture myself; or to join a fabulous company that is doing pathbreaking work in education.
The dilemma is intense, because for once I don’t think I have the energy to manage so much anymore. It is bothering me that I am possibly letting go of the best corporate job that has come my way.
But something a friend told me yesterday rings true for once. That this is possibly the only time I have, to create something that will impact kids’ lives. That I should measure my success against that, not against the amount of money I earn. That my success will be eventually reflected in the lives that my children carve out for themselves.
In the final analysis, I don’t know if I will win or lose!
Then marriage and kids happened. And suddenly, much as I wanted to be a career woman, I could not bear to leave Nishna behind. Her little fingers tugged at my heart and I wanted to be with her. My mom kept nagging me to go back to work, but I could not. Praneet was on a roll and to be together meant that I had to give up work.
Those were good years, of sorts. I traveled the world, had another kid, but through it all, I itched to get back to work.
Going back to work after many years was a pleasure - getting up in the morning, getting ready, meeting people with whom you could share a coffee and gossip - and do interesting work.
It was not easy. My batchmates had moved way ahead of me and were heading divisions and/or companies, while I was no where near any of that. The years I had spent was an entreprenuer and the experiences I had gained because of that did not really count for anything. And ofcourse, I must be getting paid lesser than the MBA fresher.
All this does not really do good things for one’s ego.
My Mother always tells me to measure what I have gained against what my losses might be. I was lucky that I did not need to work for money, got to spend time with my kids and it is rewarding to see them grow into secure, confident, intelligent young adults.
It has not been pleasant to not have my own personal wealth (though truth be told, that did not stop me from spending Praneet’s money!).It makes me feel happy to see my friends so successful but it hurts coz I know I was as good, if not better.
After years I have eventually come back to what I love most - books. In my new freelancer capacity I write, read, edit and recommend good manuscripts. I get to curate the Kalaghoda festival and have made many friendships and business relationships because of that.
And today, I am at the crossroad of yet another decision - to stay at home for this year and write and nurture myself; or to join a fabulous company that is doing pathbreaking work in education.
The dilemma is intense, because for once I don’t think I have the energy to manage so much anymore. It is bothering me that I am possibly letting go of the best corporate job that has come my way.
But something a friend told me yesterday rings true for once. That this is possibly the only time I have, to create something that will impact kids’ lives. That I should measure my success against that, not against the amount of money I earn. That my success will be eventually reflected in the lives that my children carve out for themselves.
In the final analysis, I don’t know if I will win or lose!
Thursday, March 10, 2011
Being a Mother
My ex-boss used to say that every woman who becomes a mother becomes a gyaani. She thinks she knows it all. Ofcourse, he was a single Panju ladla son of his mother, so he could not have known any better.
The fact is, nothing prepares us for motherhood. Even though, from the very beginning we are told that women are natural mothers, the reality, atleast for me was quite different.
Motherhood came with discomfort for me. I did not feel any particular pleasure when I conceived and carried Nishna in me. The overwhelming thought was that I was losing my figure and getting stretch marks. And when I held Nishna in my arms, I did not fall in love with her. I was merely amazed that I had been carrying her in me.
Falling in love with her happened a little later, but I lost my sleep. I would wake up at night and constantly check on her - putting my fingers under her nose to feel her breath or my palms on her stomach to check the gentle breathing in and out.
I lost my sleep and gained anxiety and fear. What if something went wrong? What if someone took her away? What if I lost her?
Her growing up has not lessened my anxiety, if anything I am more worried today. At 13, Nishna is discovering her self as a young woman; friends are an integral part of her life and she is learning to tell me partial truths.
And I worry and worry and worry. What if she goes astray? What if she gets into trouble and hides it from me? How will I handle her gentle heart being broken - by friends, boyfriends, school results and so forth? What if she is stalked and troubled?
Oh!the list is endless and I realise that I am so ill-equipped to handle this new phase of motherhood. Should I try being a friend to her? Or being a Mommy? Or look for a mid path where she will confide in me? How do I control my anxiety and the anger that spills forth because of it? What mistakes am I committing?What if my approach is not the right one?
I know she has to gain her own experiences and be richer because of them. But if there was a way, I would gather her in my arms and shield and protect her from all the hurt and trouble.
Really- I would be protecting myself because Motherhood hurts.
The fact is, nothing prepares us for motherhood. Even though, from the very beginning we are told that women are natural mothers, the reality, atleast for me was quite different.
Motherhood came with discomfort for me. I did not feel any particular pleasure when I conceived and carried Nishna in me. The overwhelming thought was that I was losing my figure and getting stretch marks. And when I held Nishna in my arms, I did not fall in love with her. I was merely amazed that I had been carrying her in me.
Falling in love with her happened a little later, but I lost my sleep. I would wake up at night and constantly check on her - putting my fingers under her nose to feel her breath or my palms on her stomach to check the gentle breathing in and out.
I lost my sleep and gained anxiety and fear. What if something went wrong? What if someone took her away? What if I lost her?
Her growing up has not lessened my anxiety, if anything I am more worried today. At 13, Nishna is discovering her self as a young woman; friends are an integral part of her life and she is learning to tell me partial truths.
And I worry and worry and worry. What if she goes astray? What if she gets into trouble and hides it from me? How will I handle her gentle heart being broken - by friends, boyfriends, school results and so forth? What if she is stalked and troubled?
Oh!the list is endless and I realise that I am so ill-equipped to handle this new phase of motherhood. Should I try being a friend to her? Or being a Mommy? Or look for a mid path where she will confide in me? How do I control my anxiety and the anger that spills forth because of it? What mistakes am I committing?What if my approach is not the right one?
I know she has to gain her own experiences and be richer because of them. But if there was a way, I would gather her in my arms and shield and protect her from all the hurt and trouble.
Really- I would be protecting myself because Motherhood hurts.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)