10 years of DAIS

As the Dhirubhai Ambani International School completes 10 years of its existence, I admire Nita Ambani for what she has created - out of sheer passion. She took on the task of creating a world class school and in ten short years has totally cracked it. 

I remember 10 years ago when we were moving to Mumbai and went school hunting. No school entertained us, and then someone recommended that we try the new Ambani School that was opening that year. I was not too keen - I thought it would be an elitist school and I did not want my kids to study in such a place. We called the School and they told us to come over - Mrs Ambani was there and  would meet us.

We were pleasantly surprised to meet Mrs Ambani. She was not dressed as she is for her photo shoots. She was in chappals, with her hair bunched up, as she chased the countless things that required her attention. She called us in for a meeting and spent a good half hour telling us her vision for the School.  (Truth be told, I only paid half the attention to her because my eyes were glued on her huge rocks!). While on our way out, a security guard got the dressing down of his life because a fire drill was on somewhere and he was still lolling around! We met the teachers and Nishna went through the admission process and we were impressed with the attention to detail on everything. 

Nita Ambani is relentless in her pursuit of excellence - and this is reflected in everything in the School. If grades are a success indicator, then the  Students get admissions  in Ivy League Colleges and year on year, the results are outstanding. 

But there are other indicators of success. An important one is the impeccable way in which children are paid attention to. The care is reflected in the bathrooms that are spanking clean, the classrooms that are bright and cheery, the learning centres that are world class,  the food that is served daily, and even the security drills that ensure the safety of the kids. The teachers  work tirelessly to deliver quality education to the kids and are always there to address an issue. The School sets best practices in all these areas. 

Perhaps the best indicator of success is the tremendous pride my kids have on being Indian. And this is driven by the School that celebrates Indian-ness in a big way. My children are proud Indians and also completely at ease with the International-ness of the whole experience. When they travel on school visits abroad, they come back with a fierce happiness that they are better at so many things than the others. 

It is easy to be dismissive and say that Nita has the backing of the Ambani power and clout. Yes, indeed she does - and she has channelised it well. The school events are impeccably organised and various luminaries from all walks of life visit the school for talks and student interactions. When Mumbai was flooded under, and kids could not make it back home, she flew in supplies to make sure that kids were safe , dry and fed. Her bodyguards helped School buses and children make it to safety. During the terrorist attack, she ensured that safety was hiked up in School and no untoward incident would take place there. When students go out on out-station trips, there is enough security to ensure safety. When a school student was fatally injured and battling for his life, Mrs Ambani stayed at the hospital with the family to support them. 

The lady has worked tirelessly to create a team that delivers world class education and a happy safe environment for her students. And she need not have done any of that. Most wealthy socialite wives adopt charities and make Page 3 appearances. It is easy to undermine or be dismissive, but this lady went out there and created something that has set standards for excellence.

And perhaps nothing brings home her success more than the presence of Mukesh Ambani at the Annual Days. He attends all of them and is unassuming and undemanding. And  the pride on his face when he views what his wife has achieved is priceless! 

License to Rape

So another girl gets raped in our capital city and is dumped to die. And there is outrage in media on the gross crime and what will be done to bring the perpetrators of the crime to justice. 

And , being a woman, and the mother of a young boy and girl, I don’t get the outrage. 

As I see it, this is something that the society encourages - in its feudalistic bullshit manner. We pamper our sons and turn a blind spot to all their shortcomings;  we treat them like demi-gods because they will be the ones that will provide for us when we are older. In many households, young boys are not encouraged to lift a finger to help and are waited on hand and foot. They get the lion’s share of the goodies instead of an equal share to the daughter. They are allowed to stay out till late at night and parents express helplessness that they do not know where their sons are. A girl-friend the son brings home, (or likes) is branded fast and chalu. Most of the times, the girl he likes will not be the one he will be allowed to marry because she is loose charactered enough to go out with the son. The daughters-in law are lucky if they get a favourite dish cooked for them, but the sons-in laws are pampered silly -even if most of them have a chip on their shoulders. 

We are the ones who teach our daughters submission and docility. We teach them to cover up when they go out. We teach them to not look available - to not be outspoken , to not have boyfriends , to have none of the experiences they must have as young girls. They must save their virginity for the husband  and if they have not, they must pretend he is the only guy.  We tutor our girls that when they are married, they must be sweet and pliable to take all the crap that the inlaws may dole to them. They can work if they are ‘allowed ‘ to, they can wear clothes if they are ‘allowed’ to, and they must make the marriage work - else they will be penniless, homeless and family-less. And because the parents are lucky to have found a guy who considers their daughter good enough for marriage, they will also give gifts and a dowry to keep them happy. 

Indian boys grow up thinking they are Little Emperors and the world is out there for ripe pickings. And mostly , this translates into getting women. Since the society does not permit a normal interaction between boys and girls, there is an obsession with the other sex. Girls are taught to suppress this , but boys are not. Most Indian boys  lack social skills (and frankly most of them are not passably hygienic or good looking). So the first recourse is to drool over porn magazines and movies. For most badly brought up boys  the only way to attract attention is by eve-teasing. And since, the rest of the society minds its business when you are harassing a girl , you naturally move to the next step of touching-feeling. If you are a group of guys, then, egged on by others, in peer pressure, you will end up raping. What better way to prove you are a man? And desirable? And have the power to make the woman submit?

So how about ensuring that we bring up our boys well? How about teaching them that not only their mummies and female relatives, but also other women are worthy of their respect? How about teaching them equality with their sisters? How about letting our daughters lead their lives with freedom? How about not being hypocritical -and letting boys and girls interact and mingle and develop a healthy respect for each other?

Till we don’t do that, we should expect rapes, harassment, dowry deaths and many more crimes against women. 

And - if this does happen to any woman you know, well - just castrate the buggers. There is no need to wait for someone else to deliver justice. 

Anger that cleanses

In the past few months, I dealt with a bitter falling out with some people I held very dear to my heart.  It came on the heels of one of the toughest personal periods in my family. And it was fraught with feelings of hurt, bitterness, sadness, betrayal and a sense of having been used. 

When I needed to cope with moving on, I did a lot of recommended stuff. I tried chanting, that is supposed to relieve anxiety. And I practiced cord cutting - to reduce emotional hurt. I tried forgiveness - to forgive those that had hurt me, accepting that it was their life journey and nothing they said was really my fault, but the sum total of their own experiences. I tried praying - to soothe my nerves. I practiced forgiveness - tried being the bigger person to let it all go away. 

But none of that really worked for me. I felt hurt and betrayed. There was a whole variety of hurts. 

Emotional hurt -how could they do this  to me when all I had ever felt was deep affection; 

Egoistical hurt - nope, that is not possible. How can they treat ME like this? 

Betrayal hurt - that  I am being gossiped about and made to look bad ,

and a Helpless hurt - my inability to let go and move on. 

I suffered and I suffered. And I began to lose faith....faith in me and in my ability to overcome so much in my life. 

Until Anger happened.  And maybe because I am Aries, I am good with Fire, and Anger. 

Anger cleansed me like nothing ever had. It overwhelmed all my senses and it destroyed.

 Anger is like fire and it burns. In its red hot avatar, it wrecks havoc on the emotional landscape and leaves destruction in its wake. And it destroys feelings of loss of self esteem, loss of self respect and loss of a cherished relationship . It burns out the emotions of guilt, self-recrimination and shame . It burns and clears up the emotional landscape , so that the process of healing might begin.

In its cold white avatar of deadly calm,  Anger allows you to express all the bottled up hurt. It allows you the courage to tell the person what you feel and how you have been taken advantage of. It brings clarity to the situation -  It helped me see the vicious lies I had been subject to. Cold fury clears the emotional baggage so there is a feeling of peace. It permits negativity to get out of the system, so there will be no disease in the body. It helps close the door. 

Yes, a lot of stuff is said in anger, but that is purifying too. Anger encouraged me to be truthful. Why should I have been the bigger person? I am not Buddha! So why should I have  suppressed my hurt and wished the other person well?

It is alright to wish the other person ill. It is alright to tell them what I think of them and the way I perceive them. It is perfectly ok to want them to experience the hurt they have put me through.To pray that the pathetic sluts will pay for their actions- that is not evil. 

I see justice and fair play in my anger. And even if it was crass and evil, to hell with it. I don’t care if it made me look unfeminine or bitchy or if it  was unflattering. I have lost nothing - rather I have burned the chain of misery. 

 So when you want to put aside hurt, betrayal and feelings of loss,  I recommend anger. Anger can serve you well .Like fire, anger annihilates, but it also sets the stage for new beginnings. And hope and happiness. 

Anger did not make me an angry , bitter or negative person. Its cathartic effects enabled me to be positive again - of renewing my faith in myself and in people around me.

 It brought the smile back in my eyes.

Right Here, Right Now

Is there life after death? I had never really thought about it until I read that Sikhism also subscribes to the theory of reincarnation. I was a bit surprised because this young religion of mine is so non-regressive. Suddenly the chatter on karmic connections, past life regressions, spirits that talk to you ,reincarnations and paying karmic debts became too loud in my head.

So when I chanced upon ‘Many Masters , Many Lives’ that many friends had recommended , I was happy to read it. And read it in one evening. 

And then had a nightmarish night. I dreamt of all those souls, floating in the universe around me, waiting till the Masters came to give them gyaan and till they found another life. It was eerie - to think of those billions of souls shifting in and out of bodies -the sound they seemed to make was like the sound of a message sent from an Iphone -zoop . And of the  hierarchy of planes that the souls could be on - much like a caste system, except that it depended on how evolved your soul is. What the Masters said is what I can happily preach too! 

I am definitely not an evolved soul and my disbelief in reincarnation and life after death is strong as ever. 

Belief in re-incarnation seems like an emotional crutch - I may not have got what I desire in this life - maybe a job ,a guy , a house or diamonds  - so it soothes me to think that in another life time I may have had them, or will have them. To think there is a karmic connection with people in my life is to try and establish bonds that don’t exist. If I think there is another life in which I am going to realise my potential, then am I not wasting what I have right now?

There is no such thing as a Karmic debt from another life. I believe strongly in Karma, but Karma is fairly instant for me - I am punished (or rewarded) instantly. If I pay for my actions in this very life, why would I be carrying other baggage? And like me, other people also pay for their actions in this lifetime - sometimes it is visible, sometimes it is not - but they do. So that ‘Karmo ka Phal’ is right here, right now. 

There is no justification for relationships I have in this present life - happy or rocky, they are part of my now.  I may connect with some people deeply, but that is because humans tend to do that - bond selectively with some people. 

When I lose a beloved one to death, it hurts me and leaves a vacuum in my life. But the person stays on with me, in my thoughts , in what I learnt and in the legacy I might carry forward. If I can feel them after death, it is because they stay in my heart. That’s it. 

What I do believe in very strongly is destiny. You might plan stuff, but life turns out pretty different. When I was young, I thought I would be this super cracko corporate head honcho, and everything in my life was geared for that. But life turned out differently for me - and for the better! I am doing things I love and would not trade those for any corporate job ever . I was destined to marry Praneet , even though it took two years and heartache before I met him.

I also believe in the power of thought. What you send out into the Universe comes back to you. So if you believe that you are good and good stuff will come your way, it truly will. If you think negative, you attract negativity. What you visualise - you receive!

Sometimes though I do wish, I would not be so hard on myself. I wish I could believe in reincarnation and karmic connections and karmic debts. That would ease the pressure on me and make me surrender to a higher power. And not make me feel so responsible for my actions all the time. 

But for me  - Life is Now. This is the life I have -  to share with people I love, to do things I want to do. Everyone in my life is meant to be there, no matter for how long and I am grateful for that. I have earned all I deserve . And I bear the fruit of my actions - fortunately there has been more sweetness than bitterness. I approach life with a passion- whether in loving, eating, talking, running, reading or writing - there is no other way I know. And the happiness, sadness, bitterness, love - everything I feel is related to events in my life - right now!

And if there is indeed reincarnation - then I am at my best life yet!! 

Sex 'Awareness'

‘Is it true that Siddharth Malhotra is Karan Johar’s lover’, asked my 10 year old nephew. 

I kept a straight face and said,‘That’s what I have heard too.’ 

‘But Maasi, who is the woman in the relationship?’ , he continued. 

And my mind went Hmmmmm. That the 10 year old is aware of gays was not news to me, but that he knew there were male-female roles in these relationships was something I found hard to process at that moment!

Listen into any conversation that Moms with kids in the age-group of 9-14 have with each other, and sex figures predominantly in it. What is it that our kids know? What should they be aware of? What is the school teaching them? Where are they picking up information from? And is so much information really required for them?

This much is true - at young ages they are more aware of many things we had never heard of. I first heard the F word when I was in the 7th grade and also became aware of gays and lesbians when I went to boarding school at that age. I was mortified because I thought I might be pregnant - I had heard that if any part of a boy/man’s body (except your dad or brother ) touches you, it invited pregnancy. I had held and cuddled my infant cousin and spent that month in stress - till I mustered up the courage to tell my mother. (I don’t know how she did not crack up with laughter at the time)!

There were no sex education classes in school .The biology chapter on Reproduction had the teacher staring blankly into another world as she droned on - and the class tittered and giggled in embarrassment! Mensuration in Maths also became an X- rated word because of menstruation in Biology.

So yes, our kids are more ‘aware’. Schools have sex awareness classes and many children also go for such classes with counsellors out of school. There is tons of information available on the internet, even if you have Net Nanny and such installed. Bollywood is more blatant about sex and most U rated movies have lewd, suggestive jokes. Kids also pick up information from the seniors they interact with , from older cousins and from the peer group. Young Adult literature is full of teen sex. 

Should they know all these things?

 Why not? As parents, we are always stressed about pedophiles and people waiting to get their hands on our young ones. These people can be found anywhere - in relatives within families, in household staff, among friends, in tuition teachers, coaches, guards and police officers...any where. So it is good for kids to be spoken to, and for them to be aware of good touch-bad touch and intuition when things don’t seem right. 

And who should give them information? 

Personally, I believe parents are the most capable ones to deliver this gyaan to their children. It requires that we swallow our inhibition and talk freely to them coz frankly we have lots more opportunity to ‘talk’. At their bed-time, on the dinner table, after a movie, during a holiday...

I spend loads of time with kids of different ages and quite frankly, our children are not any better off than we were. Their knowledge is incomplete.

They need information - and they will look for it elsewhere if we don’t help them with it. Their stressors are the same - like us (at that age) they are also grappling with peer pressure,  are dealing with their changing bodies and emotions, are confused with hormonal activity and are terribly insecure about anything going wrong. 

Ofcourse I don’t shut up and speak to my kids constantly about the birds and the bees. And yet, I am not sure if I am being able to help them. All I know is that I want them to make the right choices as they are growing up, to be aware of the consequences of their actions and to never do stuff they will regret for the rest of their lives.

And this is fun for me too...I am constantly amused by stuff kids are aware of and their new fangled lingo.I am learning new words that I choke on... dry humping and lip virginity ...and I wonder what new question tomorrow will bring! 

Emperor of All Maladies

‘My  tumour is malignant’, texted Rano to me , on that fateful day of 28th April,2012, and my brain went in a shut down mode. I knew many cases of cancer around me, but the self-indulgent me never ever thought this disease would hit so close home. My baby sister? The one I have always fiercely protected - and bullied?

Today, Rano is done with her 16th and last chemotherapy session, and there is a sigh of relief from all of us. The journey to full recovery is not yet over - another 8 months of treatment, but the scourge of chemos is done. 

With the worst behind us, I am permitting myself to open this door a little. A montage of Rano in the initial days -  her incredible fear and the tears that would never stop. Her caressing the pictures of her kids and trying to smile and being brave when they returned from school. Her stress when we met  lots of doctors to find the one she would be comfortable with. Her horror when we first went to Tata Memorial and saw so many cancer patients. And her faith that Dr Badwe would be the one for her. 

And it did not help that none of us knew how to react. Manish, the ever cheerful, crazy Jiju of mine lost his smile overnight. My mother, who can make the world cry broke down when we went to Tata Memorial Hospital. I was horrified to see Mama so forlorn - even through the worst that life doled out, my mother has had her chin up. My Dad was shaken in Nigeria and so alone with his pain coz Mom flew in to be with Rano; he would never stop crying. I remember late night conversations between Paras and me trying to make sense of the madness - both of us were cheerful and happy in front of everyone else. And the calm Praneet, who tried to be there for most of the chemos and brought peace to the hysteria with his gentleness. 

I don’t know how my incredible sister has pulled through this. Through her two surgeries, through the horror of seeing herself change in the mirror as the chemos piled on the weight and took away her hair and through so much sickness that she could not get out of bed for days.

But I think she did it because she is truly God’s Chosen One. Her blessings are so many. Her cancer got detected just when her cells kicked into a hyperactive mode. Dr Badwe heads up the immense Tata Memorial Hospital, and took to Rano as if she were his own. He operated upon her when he himself was down with a spinal injury, has ensured that she can walk into his office without an appointment, messages her with ‘Hakuna Matatas’ when she is down and is there to handle even her silliest queries. Likewise with her oncologist who is there with her support - night and day. The nurses in Tata Memorial love her and make sure she is comfortable during her chemos and come and chat with her all the time. 

She is blessed with incredible friends. Her friends call in from all over the world every single week and on chemo days pep her over bbms. Her friends in Mumbai would drop what they were doing and rush to her if they thought she sounded low. 

Random strangers shower blessings on Rano - by not making her wait , by letting her skip a line without her asking for it, by even giving her the fish and vegetables they have selected for themselves. 

Blessed with her househelp who has not taken a leave, put in long hours of work, not complained because the load on them is so much. 

But most importantly Rano is blessed to be the daughter of my parents. My parents put aside every need of theirs to nurture their daughter back to health. Mom has watched her like a hawk and if Rano’s counts remained good and she did not succumb to any infections, it is because of Mom. With her positivity Mom has made sure Rano had very few weepy days. She ensured that Rano wore beautiful clothes, wore make-up , watched happy movies, listened to songs and ate well at all times! Dad managed alone with his health issues in Nigeria, and came to India every month to be with his favourite child. 

Manish has been incredible in his support and love for Rano. His life turned upside down , but my Jiju loves Rano more than ever - and has denied her nothing. With his being around her, Paras gives Rano strength everyday. And Praneet has been her anchor - with his calm and cool head!

Her illness taught me valuable lessons - That we are blessed with incredible families that love us so much. That there is no point seeking affection and attention from people who don’t care about you. That this is your life - so Carpe Diem - live each day on your terms. And there is nothing stronger than your own mind, so train it well. 

I am waiting for my beautiful sister to heal completely. So we can begin to have all the fun we have been planning for these few months. So she can go back to work and be the cracko professional she is. So that my little nephews can hug and horse around with their mother again and their stories will not have ‘cancer’ as the chief protagonist in them again. So Nishna can tell her all her secrets again and she will become Udai’s Enemy No 1 once again. So Manish can rag her endlessly and her house will be full of laughter and happiness again! 

Following My Nose

Of all the senses that I use to connect with people, it is the olfactory that is the most significant for me. Which is why, Rani Mukherji , sniffing like a dog whenever her love interest was nearby in Aiyyaa , riled me because it was so disgusting and tackily done. 

When I was young and got sent to the hostel, I would try to hold on to the smell of my mother as she hugged and kissed me goodbye. I would rub my cheeks against hers and snuggle real close so I could carry her smell with me. I would not wash my face or take a bath in the hostel  - and it got me into a whole load of trouble with the prefects who once scrubbed me out with Surf. 

My children smell the most wonderful in the world. At night when I tuck them into bed, and in the morning when they wake up, I love to inhale deeply and smell their warmth. That smell is indescribable, something like a warm chocolate-vanilla cookie perhaps, but it soothes me, and tells me all is well in my world.

I like to smell the people I love without perfumes and deos. I like how they smell in the hollows of their necks and in the insides of their wrists . I inhale, inhale , inhale to remember. 

I am bothered when I don’t remember how someone I love/ loved smells. When I can’t find a smell association with that person. It is upsetting in a manner that I can’t describe. 

And  it does not matter to me if someone I like has a strong body odour - if I like/love the person, I am ok with the smell. Ofcourse, once in a while, I am tempted to gift a friend a deo or perfume to drive home the message, but really I am not so bothered.

 And by the same  yardstick, if I don’t like the person I cannot bear the way the person smells, or the perfume the person wears  -it nauseates me. And I try to not be physically anywhere close to the person, because the smell overwhelms me!

I associate certain fragrances with people I love. Anais Anais reminds me of the softness of my mother ( though she stopped using that fragrance years ago), Narcisco Rodriguez is my beautiful sister and Pears soap is always my lovely Nani. The yuck Simco hair fixer smelled just right on my grand-dad and I loved to smell it on him. 

Inhale  and follow my nose - it never fails me!!