Faces that we have, masks that we wear and games that we play

Faces that we have, masks that we wear and games that we play...... aaah it is difficult to recognise people nowadays. The people I see around me everyday, are not real people, they are all playing a role, a part in a game. People I know today, are the ones I don't recognise tomorrow. It made me wonder - WHY?? WHY are we not real people, why do we have to play a part to survive?

Then I realised that the answer lies in my question itself. TO SURVIVE. Right!! Darwin said - Survival of the fittest. Darwin would have changed his theory had he been born in today's world. Today we do all possible things to survive. We lie, we pull down others, we wear a mask, we back stab, we smile at someone and plan to ruin his/ her life. Where are we heading to? What are we gaining from all this? The negativity is engulfing everyone. We are fake, we were not born fake but we have turned ourselves into that. We are teaching our kids to be fake. I heard a mother telling her son - "do not smile at strangers, all are kidnappers here!!" I was aghast! Yes, I know we need to make a child understand about his/ her surroundings. But do we need to tell him that anyone and everyone he meets everyday are kidnappers? This is one of the reason why we do not see smiling kids nowadays. We see kids who are calculating every step, measuring everything. We have stalled their childhood and made them adult. What values can they give back to the society? What can they teach their kids?

I love to smile at people, talk to strangers, make friends..... and I always meet people who try to judge me. Why? Why not you lead your own life and let me lead mine?

I refuse to play a role and wear a mask and so I am not liked by people. But whatever people say, do, or however they behave, I am not going to change to please them. I am not born to please others, I am here to enjoy my life...please myself and leave the world as a happy soul. Please try to come and ruin it and you will be so super disappointed!! I promise that!

Teaching not to rape!!!!

"Don't teach girls what to wear, teach boys not to rape", was a post that everyone liked and shared on facebook. We hated the men who raped and killed "Damini", we hate all men who think women are objects of lust. We hate men who don't respect women as equals.

But wait, what does the facebook post imply to? Do by any chance anyone out there think that the parents of the culprits coaxed them to rape? Will any sane person believe that a parent will teach a kid to rape? Where does the question of teach not to rape come from? I have a son and I really want to teach him how not to rape....so what do I do? As a parent all that I can do is teach him lessons in morality, behaviour and etiquette. I can teach him how to respect human being, why only women, he should respect men too! My job ends there, I cannot shadow him everywhere to give him moral lessons 24/7. He has to know right from wrong, he has to carve his own character. I can only support him in that.

So in doing that, am I teaching him how not to rape? I am not clear about this. I kept on thinking for all these months after the Delhi rape case - who is to be blamed? Of course the MEN who were involved in it but why are their parents being targeted? Just because they have a son or because it is easier to put on blame when the person is from the weaker section?

Everyday I see some posts which say how a SON should be brought up. My question is, who has seen how those men were brought up? Probably their parents never had the time, money or energy left to give them some moral lessons. I am not supporting their act, that was henious and they should be severly punished. What I want to say is what makes people blame the parents? I really want to know why parents of a boy child are made to feel like culprits whenever such incidents happen, whereas the parents of a girlchild are looked upon as victims.

I would say we all have kids and we all are trying our best to give them the best of everything, so such posts surely hurt. So now, I need to go and ensure I teach my son how not to rape..........  but how...... any idea? ......huffffff.......

I am, that's why the world is!

Yeah, I believe in women power. No I am not a feminist and so please do not try to find any feminist hue in my words. I am just an activist for equality. So, I want the society to treat us as equal and not second class citizens. I do not want a reserved seat in a bus, I never take seats when offered by men, I do not believe in Ladies First policy. I am strong enough to stand in a crowded bus, brave the shoving people and come out with intact dignity. I truly believe that my dignity is not so fragile to be crushed by some nasty men trying to push or touch me. So yes, I stand in a bus with men around me and smile at their pettiness. I am not saying all men are same. Once a man in a bus stood like a barrier between me and some rogues. I have also met men who spoke to me looking at my eyes and not below. I have also met men who respected me as equal and we became friends. I met men who admired my inner beauty. So the list goes on.......

I have to admit here that I have more male friends than female. Is it because opposite attracts? I cannot say. But yes, I like the frankness that men have. I can mingle well with them and talk my heart out, as they don't hold grudges and are non-judgmental. But yes, I have to agree such men are few. Whenever I meet them, I make friends with them as they are priceless.

I hope someday my son Ishan grows up to be like them. I am trying hard to make him learn how to respect women and love them. He knows that his parents are equal in every way. Hope he understands that in the bigger canvas. He gave me a loving hug this morning and said - "Happy Women's Day mamma, you know na that I love you?" That made my day. I felt the same joy which I had when he was born. He is not someone who will remember a day and wish you. I saw him taking out a note from his drawer and then confirming the date in the calendar. He took so much pain just to wish me? Yes, my man is growing up!

So, it is a man (little one, I know) who made my day today!

Happy Women's Day!!  A day to celebrate womanhood? No that we do every day. It is a day to stop, smell the roses and feel happy.

I truly believe - "I am, that's why the world is!"

Teaching Ishan!! ;)

Ishan scored a zero in his drawing exam when he was in nursery!! From the very childhood he had a mind of his own and used to think unusually. The teacher announced to me on the report day - "Mrs. Nag, I am sorry to say that he has got a zero in drawing because he could not identify the colour that I showed him". I was stunned because that was the only subject I thought he would pass!! He was extremely good at colours, from a very young age he could identify colours very well. I was happy to see that although he FAILED in colour it did not hamper his promotion to the next class. But to be more sure what colour to teach him and how to make him 'colour ready' I asked the teacher as to which colour he could not identify. That was when I got the shock! He could not identify RED. Well, I thought to myself if that is the case then all my analysis of 'he knowing colours well' was a waste and I did not know my son well. Oblivious of what we thought about him, he was playing with his then best friend - Kanno. I called him where the teacher was standing and asked pointing to a red wall- "tell me the colour of the wall." He immediately said 'Red'. Now I was angry and embarassed, I asked him why he did not identify it when the teacher asked....  he looked sorely at the teacher and said - "Mamma this teacher cannot remember anything, she asked me the colour of the ball the previous day also and I said it was Red. So why should I answer the same question everyday... that's why I did not answer!! The teacher laughed and gave him a toffee and I learnt my first lesson - he has a solid mind of his own and EXAM is an alien word to him.

So, then I started to make him exam-ready - "Lovu whatever the teacher asks, you have to answer. They want to know if you have learnt all that they taught you". He obediently said "okay mamma". Job done, I was happy with myself. Then came the time when I had to take him to schools for admission tests. I did not teach him anything extra because I do not believe in all that, I wanted him to enjoy his growing up days. I asked him to tell the teacher whatever he knows. We went to a school in Airoli and the interview was just a formality there as he already got the admission. Once inside, the teacher asked me how I will manage with a job and I gave her the gyaan of how working mothers are the best ..blah blah.... Then came his turn and she asked him pointing to an apple - "what is this?" He said  - "An apple". He was bored and his look gave away that. Then the teacher asked him showing a ball - "what is this?" "It is a ball". There was a fish tank in her table and the teacher asked pointing to a fish - "what is this?" Ishan got up from his chair and said loudly and in hindi - Mamma chalo, iss techer ko kuch bhi nahin aata hai... mujhe iss school mein nahin aana hai!!!! I wondered why he did not say that in Bengali, I would have managed the situation in that case. But, for some reason, the teacher was happy and said "welcome to my school". Eventually he did not go to that school as he got into another school in Thane, but that was an EXPERIENCE for me. I came out and asked him what made him say so and that too in Hindi.... he said "you want me to come to a teacher who does know an apple, a ball or a fish?" Well the message was loud and clear - do not test my knowledge.

Till date, his stance has not changed. He hates tests and keeps on saying - Ishan knows all so why write and prove it? To teach him is no mean job, he expects you to know all. So, if he asks you the capital of Timbaktu ..you have to give him an answer and that too a correct one because he will remember it and refer to it the next time. During Durga Puja, he started asking me questions about the significance of 10 hands of Maa Durga and why she killed the poor asur and why she goes around in a Lion .... is she not afraid.... etc etc... the questions were endless. I used to answer him to the best of my abilities... I called my Mom and got answers for the ones that I was not sure about. One day, Ishan was very restless to know the name of all of the weapons that Maa Durga holds. I was cooking and so I asked him to wait for a few minutes. As he was impatient, so he went to his dad with the same question. Now I don't know what discussion the father child had because I was relieved not to be at the receiving end of the questions. I was apprehensive also, because I know my husband's knowledge in matters related to God!! But he was appeased and he did not ask me anything else about that. Next day being my off day, I went to pick him up from the bus stand. Two kids came rushing towards me - aunty aunty Siddhartha said Maa Durga has AK-47 in one of her hands, is that true! Well, I burst out laughing and said it is not true. Now Ishan or Siddhartha was very angry at me. He was proved wrong in front of his friends, he said "but Daddy said that it is AK-47!" Then I got the full story. He was asked in his class to tell about Durga Puja and he said Maa Durga is an extremely powerful Goddess, she has AK-47 in one of her hands. When the teacher tried correcting him he said that this fact is confirmed by his father. Post Durga Puja, Samir has not met Ishan's class teacher!

Blogpost title - “Love, life and the space in-between” - my entry to the GetPublished contest

Idea Description:

This story is about 2 women who have lived their prime time and are in the sunset of their life. Emon (Mr. Sanyal) and Sayantani (Mrs. Bhattachayra) are friends though they never give their relation any name. Their kids are grown up and so they have time to catch up every day and talk about issues that they face. Their little paradise of peace was rocked when Emon got a letter. From who and what is the story all about.

Extract:

Emon has this habit of checking the letter box whenever she passes through it. Today was no different, she opened and found some bills and a letter for her. Putting them in her coat pocket she went for her evening walk. When must have these letters come, she thought. She checked the box in the morning as well and it was empty. Letters are so fascinating for her, they have a charm of their own. Ivy does not understand this charm and she teases her all the time. At this modern age of emails, she still believes letters are written from heart, there is someone real writing it and you can feel and smell the person through letters.

Mrs, Bhattacharya was already taking rounds of the ground when Emon reached. They went around the garden discussing everyday things and sharing concern. Emon came back from her walk and sat down for a while, age has taken a toll on her health. Earlier she used to walk for an hour without getting tired but now she gets tired and needs rest after her walk. Sitting in her armchair, she goes back to those days when Shyam was there with her. Her Shyam, handsome, dark, medium built Shyam. “Dimma, I was looking for you everywhere. Where were you?” Ipshit’s voice woke her up. She went hurriedly to the kitchen, Ivy will come any time and she needs to make tea and give milk to Ipshit. Suddenly she remembered about the letter that has come. She gets tea for herself and settles down in the reading table. She takes out the letter from her coat pocket. It is a worn out envelop, someone must have used an old. The handwriting is not familiar but it is very lucid, has she seen it somewhere?

Em,

How are you? ….Emon sits straight with a start. After so many years someone addressed her as Em. Is it him? …after so many years? …who gave him her address? …why now? With trembling hands she read the letter twice. Yes it is him. No she does not want to think about him or the letter. She has to hide the letter before Ivy comes back from office. She needs to talk to Mrs. Bhattacharya.

"This is my entry for the HarperCollins–IndiBlogger Get Published contest, which is run with inputs from Yashodhara Lal and HarperCollins India."

Fairy Tales - My First Love

Audrey Hepburn said "If I am honest, I have to tell you I still read fairy-tales and I like them best of all".

For me, the avid reader, Fairy Tales were my first love. When I was a 5 year old my mom used to read out Fairy Tales to me. Those stories had big castles, nice food, good clothes, jewellery, and a charming prince to keep you happy ever after. The ladies were always very beautiful and the prince was always the best looking man possible. That was when I started dreaming, not necessarily of a prince but of a life with luxury and love, a life of abundance. I used to think that life has only 2 shades BLACK - the witch of the story or WHITE - the prince or princess.

Then as we grow up, we outgrow fairy tales and our horizon extends to all other genre of books. We learn and understand that prince charming is not always charming and can kill you for dowry or not bearing a male child. The witch can actually save you at times by not letting you meet the prince charming. Good food and good clothes does not always guarantee a good life. The teachings that life gives are in contrast to the dream that you weave after reading fairy tales. Then there comes a time when we distance ourselves from fairy tales and think them stupid. I once reasoned out with a friend that life is always a shade of grey, it can never be WHITE or BLACK in totality. I hated fairy tales after I saw that life was not what the fairy tales told me or made me believe to be.

After some years, I had a 4-year old curling up to me and asking me to read fairy tales to him. While reading out the stories again, I realised what the fairy tales do. They give us a dream. It is we who decide how to take it. We can turn that dream into reality or we can just ignore it as I did for many years. Fairy tales teach us that there are always BLACK and WHITE in life and we have to choose which way we want our life to turn. It teaches us that there is always a WITCH present to mislead you and there is always a FAIRY MOTHER to guide you. You will not physically see the witch or the fairy mother but you will get signs and will understand one from the other. You have to choose whom you want to follow. It depends on us, yes, on us only.

So Audrey Hepburn, I agree with you - I love Fairy Tales, not because I have not grown up, but because I have grown up to understand them.

My Mirror My Son!

Mamma the fat lady in TV looks exactly like you!!!! I was horrified to hear my son utter these words without any feeling. Yes, he hurt me by saying so and he did not feel for my feelings. Was he mocking me? Was he actually being cruel?  All these things crippled my mind.... and then I saw his transparent eyes and innocent smile......  he came to me and said - but still mamma you look very beautiful. Awww my baby, although he is growing up I love molly cuddling him and relish such mamma-baby moments.

He is one person in the world who is my mirror, he tells me things straight on my face and does not even bother about my mood swings (his dad does!). So, he is very blunt at times telling me - "God mamma you looked bad  while dancing", or "mamma you cannot sing".
He is usually a child who will not behave in a very matured way.... he is always in his own world.... watching cricket or cartoons, trying everything to escape studies and eating biscuits or bhujia when I am not near the kitchen. But then he stunned me one day with his maturity. It was a Saturday and my husband was out of station. I needed to go to bank for some urgent work. So I took him along and we went by a rickshaw. When we reached the HDFC bank I realised that as I was not carrying my credentials so they were reluctant to issue a DD. I headed towards SBI in the same rickshaw. The rickshaw driver, a migrant from UP, started chatting with me. By nature, I am a person who loves to talk so within a minute I was telling him how badly HDFC treated me even though I have been banking with them for years. The driver told me that SBI is a bank I should always trust as it has its branch everywhere in India (even his village in UP) and how they trust people and all. By the time I got down from rickshaw, except exchanging our numbers, we were chatting like old friends. The moment the rickshaw left, my son turned towards me with an intense look and with utmost seriousness he told me - "Mamma you chatted with a total stranger for so long? Do you know if he is good or bad? Why did you tell him where we stay and all." I looked at him and felt that he meant what he was saying.And then I realised that he was very gloomy throughout the ride.

I promised him that I will be careful next time on and then he was back to his chit chat of how Dhoni scored 100 and how he will never score anything below 200 when he plays for India! But the thought never left me......  from where he got that thing in his mind? he is not someone who is observant, on the contrary he is always in his dreamland (playing cricket). But I was very happy knowing that whatever I told him about Strangers and not talking to them and taking care actually seepped into his mind.

I realised that under his immaturity and kiddish behaviour, there is a little MAN hiding, who knows where to draw the line and how to behave. I was happy!