Rude Kids

‘Maji Satak Li’, ‘Panga Mat Lena’....these hoardings greet me everywhere in Mumbai these days. They are for a new reality show (is that what these are called?) to find India’s Dramabaaz kids. 

And these hoardings anger me. As if we Indians are not rude enough, we want to now also showcase how obnoxious our kids can be.I have never quite understood how parents don’t control their kids on flights, and look on indulgently as the child talks loudly, messes around, kicks the seat in front all the time. Or when kids run around restaurants, call the stewards again and again with innumerable demands or when kids push and shove for a turn at the swings. Or when parents are amused that the kid talks like an adult with all the expressions and drama! I can’t stand kids who act too big for their boots, and their parents horrify me even more. 

And much as we are mistaking our right to expression in the democracy, I think we are missing the boat on allowing kids the freedom of expression too. The right to express yourself does not mean being rude, being precocious and unmindful of people’s feelings. It does however mean letting people know how you feel, in a manner that is age-appropriate and in a language that is civil . It means being mindful of how others might receive it. And being prepared for the repercussions if someone is offended. 

I don’t think kids can process all that at an early age. They don’t have shades of grey like adults do - for them things are pretty much in  black and white. So when we indulge their rudeness in our love, they don’t understand that the same behavior can appall someone else too - and they may become outcasts or clowns in their peer group. Over time, most children learn to modify their behavior in peer groups or with superiors but it is not a happy situation. And it  does not ever leave them - rude behavior rears its head in crisis situations. 

Rude kids make rude adults. And really parents are responsible for this - not the media, not the extended family and not the peer group. 

I allow my kids to express themselves - often I am told that I am way too indulgent with them and talk about too many things with them. But I would be appalled if they were rude to me or to anyone else. That is not part of my liberalness. 

For me polite behavior is not about saying ‘Sat Sri Akal’ or touching someone’s feet (though that is nice too). But politeness is about not deliberating hurting someone, of having the courage to apologise if something inappropriate has been said or done, and about not showing off what you possess. It is also about keeping quiet in situations that will not benefit from your input. It is being nice to people who are not as privileged as you or whose needs are greater than yours. 

Good manners are not about being fake. They determine the sense of wrong and right in all human beings. They are one’s way of making the world a better place.

So if a kid ever tells me ‘Maja Satak Li’ and the parents coo with delight  -trust me, my brain will also go for a toss, and I will pinch the kid hard when the parents are not looking. 

Cancer Etiquette

Rano’s weekly chemotherapy schedule was to change to a fortnightly one and she was quite relieved about it. 12 weeks of constant in and out of the hospital, and feeling sick all week is quite exhausting and she was looking forward to not feeling so sick. 

And I walked into her house one evening and told her about a friend who could not get out of bed for 10 days post her fortnightly chemo coz it made her so sick. Little did I know the impact it would have on my sister. She was stressed all night and inconsolable. And I got the dressing down of my life from my Mom and bro-in-law. 

I am not alone in putting my foot in my mouth (atleast in this case for sure)!

Cancer brings out the best in most people. Strangers help each other and try to make life easier for the cancer patient. They step out of line to let a cancer patient go ahead, they will pay money if the person runs short while buying medicines and will commiserate.

And one way of commiserating is to tell stories of other cancer patients. Sharing their stories becomes one way of trying to reduce a cancer patient’s fear. So when someone narrates the story of how an aunt had cancer, and only lost a breast,  or that a relative developed a lesion in another part of the body, or that a neighbour died because the cancer came suddenly , it is meant to allay the patient’s fear. It is a way of making the patient understand that they are blessed and that others have had it worse.

But it comes out all wrong. The moment a person realises they have cancer, it creates an unimaginable fear. The dreaded C is something to be combatted and the treatment is almost as bad as the disease. Ask cancer patients, and they will tell you that they have nightmares about their mortality. They worry about themselves, about their kids and their loved ones. And then to hear stories - and most of these end badly- trips them big time. 

So what do we do? Clearly we care...and want to show the patient that we are there for them. So here is what works (atleast in my experience).

• Telling someone ‘you have the good cancer’ is not funny. Cancer is cancer...and scary in any form for the patient. 
• If you don’t have the courage to visit them or are not in the same city, it is fine. But let them know you are there. Rano’s friends would call her, sms to her and put stuff on her FB or BB to let her know that they were there for her and were thinking of her.’Not knowing what to say’ is not an excuse. 
• If the patient is looking really sick, there is no need to tell her she looks fabulous. Tell her that you can see she is feeling awful and ask if can you do something for her? Maybe cook up a favorite dish or read something funny or watch a stupid movie together so the beast is forgotten for sometime. 
• Give the patient an opportunity (if he wants) to talk about how he is feeling. So when you ask ‘How are you feeling?’, be prepared for the patient to detail to you exactly that. They need to vent, they also need validation and support. 
• Most of the patients feel more depressed when they lose their hair - be gentle, not patronising. They look different, not bad or weird. And tell the patient that. And don’t wear the ‘pity’ eyes. They are fighters and survivors and need no pity. 
• Don’t get offended if the patient takes off on you or says something nasty. Their bodies are full of chemicals that play havoc with their emotions. They go through too much turmoil and therefore get angry and hysterical. They may not respond to your messages or take your calls. They need energy to get well - it is not their time to make you feel special. 
• Above all, don’t give gyaan. They don’t need it. They don’t need to be told what diets are good, what treatments work, why they are feeling sick and so on. Remember, they are processing all that information from their doctors - so refrain from imparting your knowledge. 

A smile that tells them that you care about them, a deep felt hug and your genuineness are all they want. 

My Maruti and I

I don’t have a thing for cars. I couldn’t care less if I sat in a Skoda, Mercedes, Lamborghini or Rolls. The other day, my kids were discussing cars  they want Praneet to buy, and one of them said ,‘the car I hate the most is the Maruti 800.’

And I thought to myself - Little do they know! What the original Maruti 800 meant to a whole generation of middle-class Indians.

When we were growing up, Dads had scooters, and as they moved up the corporate ladder, a company or self owned car. The world then was divided between people who drove Fiats and those who drove Ambassadors. And both of them considered themselves superior. We were Aamby drivers and scornful of  the Fiat owners. They looked cooped up inside those matchbox cars and the steering wheel seemed to move a lot more than it steered the car! The Fiat was slower than the slowest cycle on the road and god forbid if you got stuck behind one. For us, it was always the fuddy-duddies who drove the Fiat. The Aamby was the King of the Road - strong and solid with loads of leg space. Ofcourse, many a morning (esp in the winters)  the street would be full of cars that owners were trying to start up desperately. And it was common, and fun , to push cars to help them start.

And then came the Maruti. I remember the pride on my Dad’s face that we were the first few hundreds to receive our Maruti in Oct’83.People would stare at the red car with envy and admiration as it hit the road. 

Our red Maruti was a dream! It was fitted with an original engine and had all imported parts . The car was so silent that Dad would check it at the traffic light to ensure the engine was still running. It had great mileage compared to both the Aamby and the Fiat and it came in funky colours too. My parents had lived abroad so we were used to various cars, but all of us loved our little red Maruti. 

Marutis changed the way young Indians drove their cars. It spawned a whole generation of cool dudes. It was the done thing to roll down all the windows, put blaring music and cruise through the GK 1 market, and pretend you did not know people were watching you. At night, loads of Maruti cars at the ice-cream carts at India Gate had the hatchback open with people sitting in the boot, feeling important! 

I used to be delighted when I was given permission to drive the car to college. It was thrilling to overtake every car on the road and zip up and down the flyovers in Delhi. The whole day we would drive around CP and other favourite haunts.And like all good ‘Indian’ things, we ‘please adjusted’ in the tiny Maruti car too. My bunch of pals used to fit into the car, without a complaint, and tumble out when we reached our destination. 

When I think back on my college days, it was the Maruti car that gave me a sense of safety. I was super confident that the car would never stall. That its tiny-ness and pick-up would help me escape any unsavory event. The Maruti car liberated me - it enabled me to travel anywhere , at anytime of the day. My cousins and I would sneak away regularly to grab a quick bite at those dirty chinese vans, do a recce of the current crushes’ houses and pick up stuff we did not want parents to know!

Ofcourse, we all moved on to other cars - bigger, better, more expensive ones! But today if I could hunt out the Maruti we owned, I would buy it back and preserve it forever!! 

That was the only car I truly loved!! 

Rude Indians

A note in the papers stated that Indians are getting ruder. And that parents are to blame for it. There is some truth in the statement, and is reflective of the rapidly changing India and  behaviors that are undergoing a sea change too. Indians are in a rush to become an economic power and aspire to lifestyles of the west - but there is little civic sense , dignity of labour or genuine respect for human beings. What we have is an abundance of false pride, arrogance and superciliousness. 

New money

Most of us earn more than our parents, and the markets are flooded with things that were objects of desire for us when we were kids. Simple things like Toblerone chocolates, Barbie dolls or Hi-Street shops for clothes. We want it all. We want everything our money can buy - and for the rest, there are credit cards. So fancy cars, big homes, great clothes, great toys - we have them all. And once we have these things, we earn the right to be rude. I demand the better parking, a better table at the restaurant, better service in the airline - and if I don’t get it - well I will throw a tantrum. I will not stand in a line - I am filled with my own self-importance! 

Look around you and you will see that rude behavior is the highest in people with new money. And in their kids. I have heard school teachers complain that some parents look down on them because they must earn less!  And are therefore inferior on the social scale!! 

In this whole game of one-upmanship and assessing people based on their cars, houses and jewelry, we are missing a critical detail.  All that we have earned is through sheer hard work. We grew up in a competitive environment with a scarcity mentality and were determined to succeed. Our kids will have to work doubly hard to support these current lifestyles.  Instead, we are bringing up kids who have none of that hunger we had, and have killer attitudes and arrogance. That is not going to help them. 

Rudeness with the staff 

The class divide is the strongest in our houses and teaches our kids a thing or two about rude behavior. Most of us grew up in households where there was help , but we were compelled to make our own beds, lay down the table and help Moms with chores. New money has brought with it the independence to hire more staff at home. And none of us want to lift a finger to do stuff anymore. We are callous to our staff and tick them off at the slightest infarctions. It is OK to be rude to help of all kinds or to not treat them as equals. Most kids I see are extremely rude to their maids and drivers - whether in hitting them, making jibes at them, or in simple things like asking them to wait outside while they have fun with their friends in the room. 

And they learn similar lessons when they see our behaviors with stewards on airlines or in hotels, with banking staff, with vegetable vendors - anyone who provides us with a service. And this undoes any lessons they are taught in equality. 

New fangled ideas on parenting

Most of us grew up in strict middle class households. We were taught to greet visitors and relatives with a Namaste or Sat Sri Akal. We were not encouraged to indulge ourselves when we went out with parents. I remember my mom’s nails digging into my wrist whenever the host asked me if I wanted a Coke - and I had to (disappointedly) say no. We were seen, not heard. And got the occasional spanking too. 

So when we became parents ourselves, we decided to correct the wrongs. We decided that our kids would lead fulfilling lives and have the confidence to tell us what they wanted. They would have the authority to take their own decisions.That we would be ‘friends’ to our kids. 

 I fail to understand parents who let young  kids decide what they want to eat , who they want to play with and whether they want to go somewhere or not! Or parents who are helpless that their kids drink or smoke under peer pressure! Or parents who say their kids don’t listen to them. Or parents who smile indulgently when there kids are downright cheeky and rude -all in the name of being witty!

You give kids authority when they don’t have the emotional bandwidth to decide right from wrong - then don’t complain when they refuse to listen to you and throw tantrums. 

Really - we need not fool ourselves. We are not our children’s best friends. We are their parents.And it is our moral duty to guide them, bully them in order to help them separate the wheat from chaff. 

The class divide only gets stronger, and  there are pressures that the have-nots have too. They aspire to better lifestyles and our behavior tells them that we are privileged and more important than them. Our arrogance sets them on the edge too and therefore, at the slightest provocation, there is a flare-up - on both sides. These flare-ups then get reflected in crimes against women, older people , road rage and a host of other acts. 

All of us need to learn - to make India a better place. 

Brave Women

Pranab Mukherji calls the young gang rape victim who died , a true hero. To be brutally raped and to struggle for your life is indeed being heroic. And by that yardstick, all Indian women are heroic and brave. Heroism for Indian women is not fighting on the front to protect the country....rather it is the bravery of making it through every single day with a smile on their faces, and relief at the end of the day that they are alive and safe. The heroism is in the act of survival. 

• If a girl child manages to not get aborted or smothered on her birth, and survives, she is indeed brave.
• When a daughter loves her parents unconditionally despite being treated unequally- in terms of education, nutrition and lifestyle, as compared to her brothers, she is brave. 
• When the daughter is denied the opportunity to find her feet in the world, to work and be financially independent, and yet loves those that deprive her of her freedom, she is heroic. 
• When a girl covers herself, boards a bus to travel and assesses the threat therein, she is brave.
• When a girl is eve-teased and swallows the hurt and shame, she is heroic.
• When a daughter is molested by her family male members and shuts up, she is brave. 
• When a daughter gives up her identity and takes on the surname of her husband and submits to his and his family’s demands, she is brave.
• When a woman gets superceded at work because she is not part of the boyclub, she is heroic.
• When a woman works on despite sexual advances by her seniors she is brave. Whether she reports it or not, she is still brave. 
• When a woman is snubbed by the taxi driver, or is subject to a lewd comment by a passerby, she is brave. 

So when she is raped, brutalised and loses her life, all because she wanted to be a normal human being, a woman is truly heroic. 

Our women have always been brave. They know they are never above suspicion. They know that aspersions will be cast on their character because of the actions of men. They realise that no matter what, they need to swallow their pride and aspirations so that peace might be maintained in the family . In the very act of being sacrificing and self-effacing, Indian women are at their very bravest. 

How about educating our men and boys? And making them brave?  How about making them understand that brutal strength is not strength at all. That just because they are physically stronger than women, and can overpower them, is no indicator of heroism. How about not subjugating the woman to satisfy your ego , pride or lust? Earning money to support the family is not brave, but creating an environment where the women of your family will be safe and secure is brave. Not using sexual organs as power tools is being brave. Having the courage to stand up to someone who beats up his wife,  teases a woman or molests a woman is being brave. 

It is not about laws and legal actions. These are matters of personal choice...

Creating a world where your daughter will be more than equal to your son, is being brave. 

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.