Someone Like Him!

If you have a boy like him
More than a son, you have a friend and guide
...for life.

If you have a boy like him
Of such compassion and sensibility
You have renewed faith in humanity

If you have a boy like him
So accomplished, yet humble and sweet
You feel you have done your one good deed.

If you have a boy like him
With least effort and bother
You get labeled a good mother!

Blasts from the Past!

I shared a short story on Facebook yesterday about Atreya's reaction to topping his class at 14 (see at the end of this post). Here is another interesting story from his school years, which was the beginning of it all.

It's all about Attitude!

Singapore has a system of a major exam, called PSLE, at the end of Primary School education. Sadly, the results of this exam decide a child's academic future. A bad score in this exam can mean s/he will not be eligible to attend University six years later. 

Most Singaporean parents are hyper-stressed about this exam, but that was not the case with me because of several reasons. For one, I don't think much of such exams that put unnecessary stress on a child. Two, Atreya was a smart child who seemed to understand most of the concepts easily.  And finally, I was extremely busy being the sole breadwinner of our small family. 

But when his school teacher expressed her concern about his lack of effort (her words- he is one of my brightest students but doesn't seem to care about anything or put in any effort), I decided to have a conversation with him.

I said to him that when I hire or fire an employee, it is always based on their attitude, never on what they scored in their exams. When choosing team members, I always look for people who demonstrate commitment and responsibility. And based on Atreya's attitude towards his work, which as a student was his studies, I would never hire him, and if I did hire him, he would be the first one to be fired. 

That was the extent of our discussion. No extra classes, no additional supervision by mommy. 

My words hit home, and this careless child went on to break all records in his Secondary School exam, getting seven distinctions (in all subjects except the much dreaded Hindi) and being declared the best student of the year. And all this without a watchful mommy's supervision or any after-school tuition! 


It's all about attitude really...in school as in other aspects of life! 

Top or Bottom?

After years of just doing okay in school, when my son came in first in the second year of Secondary school, he thought the rank 1/43 meant he had terrible scores and had come in last! It's only when his friends congratulated him that he figured out what it meant.

I was quite surprised by his innocence. But it is understandable and shows how little he and I used to stress about results and scores. The only thing we ever discussed was the right attitude towards learning.

It is you!

In everything I do
It is you.

My mind is like a butterfly
that wanders off at the slightest pretext
To sit by your window
And gaze at you.

It goes where you go
It stops where you stop
It can't rest
Anywhere but with you.

In the mornings when I wake
All day in its busyness
In the nights when I sleep
It is with you.

In the joy that elevates me
In the things that inspire me
In the gut-wrenching pain that I feel
It is enjoined with you.

In the words I write
In the poems I read
In the thoughts I think
There are hues of you.

In my few good actions
In my many vices
In my myriad roles
It is mindful of you.

In my viscous dreams
In my powdery reality
And in everything in between
It is of you.

In everything I am
It is you, only you. 

Transient Happiness

I know happiness is transient. That's why it must be cherished even more. I don't want to hold on to it because I know it can't be held. I just want to feel it and remember it.

It is a cold February night. Atreya is lying on the mattress next to my bed. Aloka is fast asleep next to him. They must be uncomfortable in that tiny space squeezed against the wall, but they sure are warm. Atreya and I talk about all kinds of things. I am relaxed. He is relaxed. We are family. And we are under one roof.

Atreya, mom and I are sitting in mom's room, watching The Green Mile, a movie we have seen a few times before. We are sharing what we feel about the characters and the story. Mom has her letter linker open in front of her and she plays the game every now and then. Atreya asks to eat something good and I get up to make pasta. Mallika is cutting vegetables I need. Aloka walks in sleepy. I make her lie down on mommy's bed and she is fast asleep in a few minutes. Atreya later carries her upstairs in his arms, huffing and puffing- she is not so tiny anymore!

It is early morning in August, the morning after our party to celebrate old and new friendships. We are all drinking tea. Mom and Meenu are on the swing. They sing songs alternately. Sonu, Manju and Shikha are listening with attention. Aloka is trying to squeeze in between the two, and when she is shusshed, tries to get Manju's attention. Anakin is restless- he wants to be part of the group and he wants biscuits. The khudd is flowing below noisily, incessantly, and the mountains gaze upon us benignly.

The sun is about to set. We see a rainbow on our mountain. Mom rushes in get her camera. I run upstairs to my iPhone and click pictures from my terrace. I come down and show my pictures to Sonu and Manju. Mom shows hers. There is some banter about whose pictures are better. Sonu and Manju mimic my "Awesome", "Wow", "Fricking view". We are all laughing. The beautiful evening and the people around me fill my heart.

It is a beautiful sunny September morning. The rain and storm of last evening have washed everything clean. The mountains are gleaming. We are out on a walk to Aganjhar Mahadev. We see Sonu on her scooter coming back from somewhere and when she sees us, she parks her scooter and joins us for the walk. Mom is walking ahead of me. Aloka and Sonu are running, with Aloka trying to catch Sonu. I can't run but I am grateful that my little girl has a running partner. In my mind, I run faster than everyone and no one can catch me- my hair flying, my lungs breathing freely and my legs untiring!

If you have to!

This is a poem I wrote when I was pining to have a baby in 1991.

Little darling!
Song of my life!
Don't tug so hard
at the strings that hold me together.
Sweet child!
My very own!
You will arrive when you have to
If you have to.

All my decisions are futile
My courage, my ruthlessness, my cruelty
And so is
this persistent craving.
Sweetest one!
Elusive flower of my garden!
You will come when you have to
If you have to. 

Miracle Babies!

I have told this story to many people and always noticed a certain disbelief in the listeners' eyes. I understand why. The story is dramatic and if you don't know me well, rather unbelievable. But it's true. It's the story of the birth of my son Atreya.

I was 16 when I first had to take steroids to control my irascible asthma. Every year after that, I would get sick in April and would be on steroids for 3-4 months. During the rest of the year, some 7-8 months, I would be on heavy doses of oral broncho-dilators.

When I was around 19, I understood that the medication I was on would not make it possible for me to have kids. It just didn't seem possible for me to be off steroids for the required 10 months, a necessary condition during pregnancy, and even if I avoided them somehow, the heavy dose of broncho-dilators was bad for the fetus too. So, I closed the chapter and stopped thinking of having a regular family. That was fine at that time, because although married since I was 18, we were young and busy and rather poor.

Then at 25, something happened. I suddenly became obsessed with babies. I would be watching TV and something as mundane as a young boy wrapping his arms around his father's back would set me crying. I started stopping to play with every baby and young kid I would meet. I felt tugs in my heart that I could not explain. I had visions of a baby crying in the heavens (yes I mean that) and asking me to let it arrive. The baby cried a lot. I cried even more.

But as is my wont, I don't take defeat easily. I decided to have a baby. My mother, as always, accepted my decision despite all the problems she knew I faced. My doctor, a good friend of my mother's, told me to come see her when I have reduced my regular broncho-dilators from four tablets a day to one tablet a day. And she said that the only safe period for me to conceive was a month after I stopped steroids, ie August- not earlier, not later. That would give me about 8 clean months until the next April when I would again need steroids. But she said all this with great reluctance, and added rather harshly that I was being a fool and that if something triggered an asthma attack during my pregnancy, I should not expect her to prevent a serious problem.

Now, I had no clue how to fix my problem. I was seriously ill and had been most of my life. Broncho-dilators kept my airways open until April every year, after which prednisolon took over. I would be gasping for breath without these life savers. How could I reduce this dependence?

At that time, my MIL convinced me to try acupuncture. For almost a year, I went to GK daily to get acupuncture done by a doctor, spending all my money and free time in the quest for reducing this drug dependence. I started taking long walks in the IIT campus, where we had an apartment, to lose weight and increase my lung capacity. And for the first time, started focusing on myself, watching for triggers and avoiding them. And what a delight when I finally could reduce the broncho-dilators to one a day.

Now on to the next challenge- conceive in August! I mean how ridiculous that sounds. People try for months or even years before they can conceive, and here I had just a month, which means just 3-4 days in which to succeed. If I didn't conceive, I would have to wait for next August. Like hell I would wait!

Let's not get into the details of those 3-4 days. Suffice to say we were like rabbits. We happened to be in the Valley of Flowers on a trek in August of 1992 and I believe Atreya was conceived on the way back in Rishikesh. When I tested myself using an off-the-shelf pregnancy kit back in Delhi, my heart was in my mouth. When I saw the result, I left my lab at IIT Delhi without a word to anyone and went straight to my gynae, without an appointment. I still remember the disbelief in her eyes.

Well, I had the best 36 weeks of pregnancy- no nausea, no illness, no asthma. I felt fitter than I had ever felt and so happy that it gives me goosebumps to remember that state. Then around the 36th week, Atreya decided he had to come out, so he stopped breathing and was birthed by C-section on April 14, my mom's birthday!

Such a smart baby, because by April 18th, I was in the throes of the worst ever asthma attack.  I was so sick that at one point, my mother called my dad, who was in Srilanka, telling him to be prepared for the worst.  Had Atreya been inside me at that time, I don't think either of us would have survived.

Now, isn't this the most delightful unbelievable miracle-laden story. Atreya had to be born. I had to be his mother. The impossible had to be made possible. So, all obstacles vanished for the time required. The mountains parted and made way for me to walk through them. What a miracle!

Both my babies, Atreya and Aloka are miracle babies. I wasn't and was supposed to have them in my life. Truly they are gifts beyond reckoning from a very compassionate universe. They define who I am and tell me, am I not so very special to be defined by miracles? 

The Freedom of Choicelessness

Today, I read a post on FB by an anxious parent wondering if he should enroll his young child in an expensive school, spending a lot of money for good education. I remember similar anxiety for Atreya when I first moved to Singapore. But my decision was made for me because I figured out very soon that I will never be able to afford an international school for my boy on a single salary. Anxiety had to take a back seat and I put him in the nearest neighborhood school that cost me next to nothing.

Over the years, he changed schools a couple of times but stayed in the public school system, a highly competitive and stressful environment, even by Indian standards. Sports are given lip service. Obedience and rote learning are considered virtues. Kids as young as 4 year olds are sent for tuition classes and continue to do so until they pass out from high school. 80% of kids wear glasses to read because of the lifestyle. On the positive side, infrastructure is good. Teachers are qualified and labs well-equipped. And kids are safe.

But at that time, none of this mattered. I had no choice, period.

Even when I could finally afford to move him to an International school many years later, we didn't make the move because I had figured out by then that when some doors are closed on us, we learn to open other doors by ourselves. Sometimes, not having external resources and choices is a good thing- it forces you to dig for resources hidden within you.

Atreya spent the first six years of schooling unmindful of the stress around him, mainly because I was unmindful of it. I had other things to worry about. I did try to help him with difficult concepts in maths and Hindi, but he was left to his own devices for most part.

In his secondary school, I stayed the same but Atreya changed. He became serious about his studies and started enjoying beating the system by hard work and love for what he was learning. When he passed his O levels, he broke all records of the neighborhood school by getting distinction in 7 out of 8 subjects, without any tuition of any sorts. Till last year, 4 years after he graduated from the school, his picture was hanging outside his school and his record remained unbroken (it probably is till today).

But more than this academic achievement, what makes me proud is the kind of person Atreya is today. He is intelligent, disciplined and hard-working like no one else I have seen, considerate towards others and in touch with his emotions. What he is today is partly due to the harsh environment he had to face at school and partly due to the opposite kind of environment at home.

I could use the money saved from expensive school education to travel extensively and buy a house where we lived happily for many years. Even the decision to adopt Aloka was possible because I had control over my expenses. Life lessons came along the way. He saw me struggle and work hard and enjoy my work and take care of people who worked with me, and that was perhaps the best tuition he ever got. He learned to live life without someone watching over him all the time and in the process, became responsible and independent. He traveled with me to far-off places and developed love and respect for nature and the environment.

The type of school he went to did perhaps stunt some aspects of his personality, we would never know, but what he gained is not to be scoffed at either. Could he have been a sportsman if he had attended an International school? Possibly! Could he have chosen to explore his creativity in music and art? Possibly! Would he have learned to manage his time and become disciplined there? Who knows! Would he have grown up to become a kind and thoughtful person? Who knows.

My advice to the young man worrying about his kid's schooling- just be a good dad. Engage with your kid. Show her how to to live by living a good life. Share your struggles and victories openly and often. Be kind and fair. Don't make money the counter to measure your happiness. Choose to love life and she will learn to do the same. This is the only choice worth making. All else will take care of itself. 

Being Useful

In the last four months, being busy with family affairs- niece's wedding, my surgery, family holidays, cooking for a large family and their friends, Atreya's college move, trip to Europe, ill health upon return- my work had taken a backseat. I had reduced my consulting assignments to a minimum and stopped my teaching in schools and Anganwadis.

And as expected, the feeling that I was not doing enough crept in. And as is the nature of our relationship, I wrote to Atreya about it. His response was so beautiful and comforting. I love him for it. This from a man who has always known his mom as a busy working woman. Am I lucky to be his mom or what?

On Some Days

I don't wear my singlemomhood
Like a crown of thorns
I don't make too much of it.
It's neither an honor
Nor a burden
It's just a fact.
Not a pitiable fact
Not a glorious one
It's just a fact.
On most days that is...

But on some days
I allow my eyes to well up
And the heart to burst with sadness
Not out of self pity
Nor out of fatigue, or loneliness
But just out of a feeling.
Not a pitiable feeling
Nor a noble one
Just a feeling.
But only on some days...

Role Reversal!

Last year, I dismantled my family. I justified it in many ways (and in many posts), but the fact remains that I single-handedly broke up the family unit I had created with so much love, scattering it into three pieces. I pontificated a lot about my adjustment issues, but it was not I who had to make the most adjustments while things were being changed out of my control. I rationalized that letting go is part of life, but that's easy to say because I was not the one who had everything taken away from me at once by somebody else's decision. It was Atreya!

And he handled it stoically, without once making me feel it was unfair or harsh to him. It took me almost a year to figure that out all by myself. 

So, when it was time to decide what he would do in the five months he had free, I used every trick I had up my sleeve to convince him to come here and stay with us. It was my chance to make amends by giving him back his family and sense of belonging, so that he would feel there was a place he knew and could always return to confidently because it was home. My tricks served me well. He has lived with us for four months, and such four months! 

In the little time that he has spent in our small village, Atreya has done many things he had never done before in the super-city he grew up in. He has made friends from all over the world, hosted many parties, mixed strange cocktails, honed his photography skills, learned to drive a scooter and a car, cooked for himself and his colleagues, taken care of his sister's schoolwork, and set new records of coffee consumption! 

He has also got his hands dirty (pun intended) doing grassroots environment work, cleaning up the village he now calls home. He has talked to villagers about the need to segregate and store waste for him to collect, set up processes to streamline collection and segregation, collected and segregated waste himself from hundreds of households, dealt with government bodies for recycling waste, motivated other youngsters by giving lectures in schools and colleges, and impressed everyone, including me, with his excellent work ethics and passion.

When Atreya was a young child, he was known by me. He was Puja's son. 

Today, roles are reversed. I am known by him. I am Atreya's mom. 

And I couldn't be prouder! 

Happy 21st birthday Atreya! 

To my kids

Here are a few things I want to say to the two of you, my kids, that I don't normally find the time or occasion to. I think it's important to say these at various times in life, and today, a day before I go in for a surgery, is one such time.

Lest you discover it one day and think you were first one to do so, let me say it up front- I am not your typical all sacrificing goody-goody mother. If judged from that lens, I come out looking pretty bad. I don't sacrifice my self-time or pleasures for either of you. I don't constantly think of my role as a parent and how I should behave with and in front of you. I spend less time with you than I could, mostly because I am distracted and interested in doing some other things. And lastly (saving the worst for the last), I am irritable when tired and unkinder than necessary.  

Having said all this, I think I am a "good" person and having me around you does you good. Yes, I am good influence, despite all the bad things I sometimes do. Of all the things that that I am and am not, here are a few things I wish and hope you are influenced by because these are recipes for a happy life. When you are lost or confused and I am not around, these might help you remember who I was and who you can be too.

1. I like doing random unusual things, like marching around the colony with a flag on Republic day, and driving off to Saloti Mata to see snow on an impulse. Such craziness makes me and everyone around me happy. So be crazy and listen to your heart like your mom does. 
2. I feel happy just looking at the mountains and the river and birds and horses and goats and cows. I wish you too find happiness in simple things and appreciate the beauty of nature. We are of the earth, and being with it and loving it is being truly yourself. 
3. I like people. I trust everyone by default and to a fault, and continue to be like that despite having been let down a few times by people I loved. I wish the two of you also have an open trusting heart. You will find true lasting friendships and love by just being this way. 
4. I am a busy bee. I don't have a lazy bone in me. It's a great trait to have because it expands time and allows you to experience more in life, and believe me there so much to experience and never enough time. 
5. I am very strong, physically and mentally. I can take shit and carry on. I have way too much pride to quit on life. I wish you are proud too and carry on when things don't work the way you want them to. 
6. If I choose to do something, I complete it. I don't quit halfway. Sometimes, this causes great suffering, like when trapped in completing a project that is just not right for me, but mostly it's a great trait to have because it helps me ride the rough patches that are part and parcel of everything good. I wish both of you become stubborn and ox-like just like me. 
7. I am very good at what I do. I remember seeing a movie as a child in which a woman was called to solve a serious marine problem because she was a well known marine scientist. I determined at that age to be that kind of person, that specialist, that expert, who would be "the one" to be called upon to solve critical problems in her area of expertise. Though I am no marine scientist, I think I have achieved that goal in my field of choice. I wish both of you find things you can be experts in.
8. I work very hard. I push myself to do things well. This helped me reach great heights in my career. I wish you too will derive pride from your work and work hard to attain what you want. 
9. I am open minded. I don't follow rules blindly. I question dogma. Every time you see yourself judging people who are different from you, remember your mother was different from many. There is nothing wrong in being different. 
10. When faced with conflicts, I try hard to be kinder and bigger than what my instincts tell me. I hope you too grow up into people who don't have to win every battle at any cost. Believe me, having peace and harmony is a way bigger reward than some silly battle won. 
11. I understand and articulate my feelings fairly well. I wish the two of you also develop this life skill as you grow because it's the only way to form and nurture relationships. 
12. I love to cook and write. Having passion for these played a huge role in my transition last year and continue to be my saviors daily. I wish and hope you two find your own ways to be creative. It makes you a better and happier person. 

About my love for the two of you, I think Aloka needs to hear this more than you Atreya because she is so young. Aloka, you are the best gift I ever received from the universe. It's only when I became your mom that I became whole. Through you, I forgive and heal myself daily. Never for a minute doubt if your mommy really loved you or if she loved someone more. I love you the most, my darling!

You are both young and need me in your lives. But if anything were to happen, just know that it was the right time, and that your life was meant to have this turn. No one seeks sorrow, but when it comes, the only way is to accept it and find your way though the fog of your sorrow. Life is beautiful. It has as many joys as it has pain. One just has to be patient and have trust in the fairness inherent in the universe. I wish you both patience and trust and love. And I wish that both of you will give back to the world much more than what it gives you.

You are the cause of my happiness, and I hope that you find your happiness as you spread your wings and fly.

What Do You See Yourself As?

Yesterday, Atreya asked me what I see myself as nowadays. When I didn't understand his question, he explained that last year he knew me as this professional, hardworking, single mother taking care of her kids. What do I see myself as now, a year on?

Not an easy question to answer. I have changed my lifestyle so drastically that some things that were an integral part of my identity have just vanished, and some others that I never associated with myself are now dominating my life. That's what he noticed and thus the question.

Atreya and I have a habit of concentrated focused conversations that don't permit postponing responses, so I did the easy thing- I compared the keywords he had used for the old me with the new me. I said I am still hardworking (I never oversleep, I am on my feet all day), still good at what I do (teaching, cooking, writing, having fun), and I still look after my family, even though the things I am doing and the people involved may have changed.

All that I said may have been true, but the fact is that beyond these basic similarities, I have totally changed the way I live and feel. Instead of getting up and getting ready to go to work every day, I get up and get ready to let the day take me where it pleases. Instead of spending the day talking to and working with self-important self-absorbed people, I spend the day being with simple people who don't take anything about themselves seriously, and who would be considered inconsequential by most. Instead of looking for tiny scraps of happiness in a day full of stress, I sometimes remind myself to look up from the sea of happiness and consider bringing some discipline into my life. And instead of struggling to find meaning in life, I dare life to find meaning in me.

So, darling, to answer your question truthfully, I see myself as a person who is not just a mother or a breadwinner, but a beautiful and interesting woman too. I see myself as a person who is great at everything she does, including not doing anything. I see myself as a person who is kind to people and makes them happy. I see myself as someone who deserves to be loved for who she is, and not just respected for the battles she has fought and won. But mostly, I see myself as a happy person who deserves to be happy and reckless and young and wild because she never had a fucking chance to be all this earlier.

And it must be showing, because Atreya said he has never seen me so happy and young ever in his entire life. Now that's a compliment if there's any!

Blackberry Blues!

I arrive in Singapore at 7:30 in the morning and it's rush rush rush to the first meeting in town at 9:30. I barely manage to get a prepaid sim before rushing off to Prashanti's for a quick bath and catching a taxi to town. After that, the day is a blur of taxis rides and meetings. In between, I send a quick message to Atreya telling him that I have arrived and that we should fix a place to meet. He doesn't respond, but that doesn't bother me- I know that he is in another camp for yet another exercise.

At around 6 in the evening, after all meetings are done, I begin to get impatient. By now I have called Atreya a few times but in vain. I have also sent a couple more imploring messages reminding him that we are to meet for dinner. When I get no response, I engage in Singapore's national pass time- shopping! In between, I keep calling him, hoping he will take my call.

By 8, I am at my tether's end. I have shopped more than that I had any plans of, I am hungry and tired, but mostly, I am angry. I have travelled thousands of miles to see him and he hasn't even bothered to send me a message, leave aside return my calls. I send a message to him expressing my disappointment.

It is then that I panic- what if he is sick or hurt and nobody knows how to contact me? I call the emergency number I have, but the young man who receives my call tells me he is no longer in National Service. I then call Rahul, Atreya's best friend and get a landline number for Atreya's camp. From there, I am directed to another number and finally I speak to someone who tells me that Atreya Sir has just left the camp. He then adds, "Actually Atreya Sir lost his phone this morning"!

Then everything falls in place. He has no phone and no way to contact me on my temporary phone. And here I am sending angry messages to the poor boy! So I decide to go to Prashanti's house and wait there- where I am staying is thing Atreya knows for sure. And I was right- that's where I meet my boy finally.

Here our a couple of pictures showing how the tone of my messages changed over that frustrating day! Really ashamed of that last one! LOL!

The Only Regret

In the month before we left Singapore for good, I was busier than I ever had been in my entire life. And it was the worst type of work- filling forms, visiting lawyers, planning my finances, digging up old documents, readjusting my insurance plans, getting quotations from movers and the likes. Weekends were especially crazy because Atreya would be home and there were so many things to be sorted out for his move out of our home and into RS’s. The result of this extreme busy-ness was that Atreya and I hardly had any time to talk about things that really mattered, now that the change was no longer hypothetical and just around the corner.

One late Friday night, just as he had come home from the camp and devoured the special dinner I had cooked for him, we sat on his bed and began talking of the stuff that he needed to discard before he shifted to his new place. I don't know at what point we switched gears, but the conversation soon moved from tactical to emotional issues- we began discussing what we would regret most after the move. 

I had only one regret, shared openly and often, and that was not being with him for this one year that he would have to stay on in Singapore. I did not regret the loss of income, or career, or lifestyle. All this, if any, was long resolved and dealt with. 

When it was Atreya's turn to share his regret, I expected to hear him say something similar, that he would miss me, or the food, or our home, or the family, or all of it. But what he said was quite different from what I had expected. It saddened me, yet gave me so much hope for our odd little family.

He said that his only regret is that he would not be there to see Aloka grow up! 

Playing Monopoly (or as Aloka says, Meenopally)

Going out with Bhaiyya

Rakhi and Rakhi gifts

Acting the goat

Sleeping in Atta's bed

(Here is another post about this brother's love for his sister. 
http://accidentalceostrategicmom.blogspot.in/2010/11/those-passwords.html)

Beyond Strategies

Aloka's behavior has changed a lot in the last three months. I often find myself at my wit's end with her constant need for attention from me, and often from others. When she doesn't get the attention she wants, she becomes loud and rude, and who wants their child to be unlikable? And then there is the opposite. When meeting strangers, she becomes totally quiet, refusing even to greet them, and looking downright unhappy. It upsets me no end to see her so cheerless.

Concerned about it, I have been reading up a lot on kids' difficult behavior and worked out some strategies. I have put up a chart with actions I do not want her to repeat (not letting me talk to others, not greeting people, making a mess while eating etc). I have worked out consequences of such behavior (no ice cream, reduced TV time etc). And after reading an article, changed the way I appreciate or scold her (thanks for cooperating with me, I like it when we do not argue about things, can we please do this all over again and this time, let's be nice to each other etc).

But yesterday, it just struck me that I have got it all wrong. Mom and I were discussing how upsetting her behavior can be and I (as is my habit) defended her saying that she is reacting to the change and we should understand her. To that, mom said- "But how does our understanding the reason fix the problem?".

In that moment, I had a huge shift in my mind- our understanding the reason is only the first step. It is Aloka who needs to understand herself. Then I remembered another child who needed to understand himself 13 years ago.

At that time, I was going through the hell of divorce and not being a text-book good mom. I would cry often and openly. Atreya saw my misery and became extra protective of me. He would be upset if even my mother said anything remotely unkind about me in jest. It was obvious that he was very angry with his father for putting me through this pain, though he didn't say anything about him. 

A few months later, I had recovered enough to stop pitying myself and start thinking of this little person in my charge. So one night, maybe 6 months after the divorce, I asked him if he loved his father. The answer was a straight NO. I asked him what he would do if someone knocked at our door and it was his father, whom he hadn't seen for almost a year. His response- "I will not even look at him. I will slam the door on his face!" 

Of course I knew this was my little protector saying what he thought I wanted to hear. At that point, I asked him to suspend all thoughts and look deeply in his heart to find the right answer. He just shook his head. Then, I asked him to stop thinking of me, as if I was not even at home when his father comes knocking, and then look deeply in his heart for the answer.

Atreya, seven at that time, went all quiet. What he said next both broke my heart and gave me hope at the same time. He said "When I open the door and see him, I will hug him tightly"!

Of course, no father came knocking at the door and no child got to hug him tightly in 13 years. The child continues to search for the lost father even now (Don't Go Looking). However, it is my belief that because Atreya understood and articulated his feelings through this miserable affair, it did not have the power to overwhelm him. He turned out to be this fantastic person because of this understanding. 

What Aloka needs is the same. She needs to understand that this move has been tough for all of us, but perhaps the toughest for her. She needs to believe that she will have a great life here, even if it's very different from what she was used to. She needs to have confidence that though she has lost many people she loved, love happens again. She needs to know that life is beautiful, if you just give it enough time. 

Time to make her understand this basic fact, beyond strategies.

Two Months Later

The other day, my niece asked me if I was happy in Dharamshala and if I was missing Singapore. I answered spontaneously and truthfully. I feel happy. I feel this is where I belong. After more than two years of feeling homeless (ironically in the only house I ever owned), I feel rooted. I am home.

All that running around to earn a hefty salary to maintain an expensive lifestyle- all that seems so distant and pointless. All that being someone to the world and trying to find meaning in the work I was doing seems so meaningless. I spend my time looking after the people I love. I cook. I chant. I go for walks. I take lots of (average) pictures. I write. I dance. I meet people I do not understand. I am not important to the outside world. I have nothing to prove. I don't earn anything. And surprisingly, I feel alright about that.

I miss Atreya, my dearest friend, my son, a chunk of my heart, but the guilt I was carrying around for the last few months has vanished. I can't hold on to him any more than I can hold on to time, so I have stopped berating myself for coming away from him. I am here where I need to be, he is there where he needs to be. He needs to take wings and fly and my job is to show him the way with how I choose to live my life. My love for him runs in his veins and his in mine- who can take that away? So, though I think of him constantly, I am at peace where he is concerned.

I love this place- the mountains, the rivulet, the clouds, the sun, the shade, the light, the rain, the grass, the blue skies, the mules, the goats, the strays. I wake up to the sound of the khadd and I go to sleep listening to it. I look at the sunsets with wonder every day and wonder at my continued wonder. I dream about being one with the Earth and about adding value to people's lives by sharing this beauty with them. I have discovered that dreams, hope and wonder are lovely ingredients for a happy life- necessary and sufficient at once.

Regarding Singapore, I do want to go visit, mainly to see Atreya and revisit our favorite haunts with him. I also am making a list of things I need to buy from there to make life (mainly cooking) a bit more comfortable, but really that's all. I don't miss it any other way. Aloka misses it and talks a lot about it. She wants to go to Resorts World Sentosa and also eat peking duck at Imperial Treasure. She misses the fancy life we lead, but for me, it's something I did to make life bearable. I remember it fondly but I don't miss it.

So there- this is how I feel two months down the line. If I were to die now, like I almost did last year, I will die happy. 

The Extra Three

Today is the 26th of January. As per a carefully crafted plan that I started working on about three months ago, I should have been in Chandigarh yesterday with my mother, daughter and dog. But here I am, writing from Singapore.

On the day we were to leave, Jan 23rd, we were packed and all set to go. There was only one hitch- Atreya, who was supposed to take half day off and see us off, was nowhere to be found. I started calling him from 2 pm onward and would have called and messaged him at least 10 times till 4 pm, but there was no response. I was having a tough time keeping my cool. I then called his camp and asked the manpower branch to locate him. Just as they got back with a vague response that he had left the camp, I received a call from Atreya. He was sick and had overslept in his bunk. 

In a single moment, I felt relieved at having located him and totally stressed to hear that he was sick. You see, when Atreya falls sick, he usually falls very sick. A strong young man, he has amazing tolerance for pain and discomfort, but the downside is that by the time his body tells him something is wrong, he is usually sick like a dog. When he reached home, I rushed him to a nearby clinic in the same taxi. He looked pale and sweaty and gaunt. He asked the cabby to stop on the way and was sick on the road side. The nice doctor at the neighborhood clinic, located hurriedly via Google, diagnosed him with food poisoning and gave him a slew of medication and a medical leave of absence for two days. 

By now, it was 5 pm. Another two hours and we would need to be in a cab to the airport. I called up mom from the clinic and told her I won't be able to leave him like this. She agreed and assured me that she would handle Aloka and Anakin's transport to India. Back at home, we had more discussions about what to do. Mom, seeing the condition I was in, insisted that I should stay on and care for Atreya. Mallika, concerned about mommy and Aloka, insisted that I should go with them while she would look after Atreya (she was to stay in Singapore for an additional seven days). This went on for a while until Atreya, half conscious, looked at me and said "Don't go". Was there any room for further discussions after that?

I then made phone calls to my travel agent, who had to rush to align Aloka's to mom's and change my ticket to Sunday. I called the pet mover to discuss if I could change Anakin's departure date, but he advised me not too because it would entail getting a new health cert and NOC. I called my brother to update him and discussed possible complications and new pickup arrangements. Finally, after a few more phone calls to these three parties, I handed over to mom copies of my passport and an authorization letter to receive Anakin at the airport, and all documents to enable her to travel with Aloka and Anakin. Plans, carefully crafted and executed over the last three months, were changed and redone in less than two hours. 

For the next three days, Atreya and I stayed mainly indoors, watching TV, catching up on sleep, working at our laptops, making each other listen to our favorite music, and talking. These extra unplanned three days allowed us to be with each other without any distraction, enjoy each other's company in total peace, and align our minds to a common goal- that of reinventing ourselves in our respective new environments. It was an extended goodbye, totally unplanned and fully satisfying.

On the third day, Atreya, by now almost fully recovered, looked at me gleefully and said- "Isn't it great that I fell sick just before you were to leave mom?" Honestly, I couldn't agree agree with him more!

His Mother!

Busy with the move, I have no time to update my blog. Atreya helped by writing a heart-warming post on his blog. Since he wrote about me, here is a link to it.

http://heaveninthebackyard.blogspot.sg/2013/01/my-mother.html

Our Prince Charming

I have a good reason for using that cliche'd title. When I was pregnant with my first child, my maternal grandma, nani, was sure that I was carrying a boy. She had a theory about it- if the husband was the real boss in the family, then the first child will be a boy and if the wife was in control, then a girl. And she seemed pretty sure about my role in my family. Also, all her great-grandchildren were girls and she wanted it balanced.

I had my own reasons for wanting a girl. First, I adored girls and wanted a little girl to take care of, and second, I never for a moment believed I was not the boss in my family. Every time I would meet nani, she would ask "When is the Prince Charming arriving?". I had a standard answer for her "Nani, princess, not prince"!

Atreya was born via C-Section three weeks ahead of schedule because he was in distress. When I was being wheeled out of the OR, I was just coming out of the anesthesia and had no clue if I had a boy or a girl (those were the days!). Suddenly, in my half daze, I heard my nani's high-pitched voice saying "Puja, Prince Charming eshe gaylo". I am not kidding you that my heart sank, I so badly wanted a girl!

This boy, born almost 20 years ago, was commissioned as an Officer in Singapore Armed Forces yesterday after training for a year. This is a 10-month assignment as part of his mandatory National Service. We are not Singaporeans, just Permanent Residents, so the decision of serving about 2 years in the Singapore Armed Forces was fraught with doubts and guilt. Did I do the right thing? Could I have been better prepared with alternatives instead of sending him to NS? Did I just ruin my son's future? In fact, there are people I know who think we are foolish for not choosing to leave Singapore before Atreya turned 16, or giving up his PR status when he was younger. To top it, the training is very hard, pushing Atreya to his physical and mental limits. He suffered almost non-stop for 11 months. That didn't help with my guilt and doubts.

But yesterday, at the commissioning dinner, as I watched this dashing young man make smooth intelligent conversation with a Brigadier General on one side and a Master Sergeant on the other, I realized that my boy has grown into a young man completely worthy of the title that was bestowed on him by his great-grandma even before he was born.

But that's not all. After dinner, he chose to stay back and help his mate complete the last few tasks that were pending. While every other cadet was busy celebrating, Atreya sacrificed family time, or clubbing time, to help a friend in need.

Prince Charming indeed!

Winking at the Universe!

After a late night call with Atreya, I was especially disturbed. He had sounded very low, worse than ever before. He was not happy with his performance in the Army and was wondering if he was at all meant to be an officer. According to him, the other cadets seemed to know what they were doing and were doing it well, whereas he was fumbling and making mistakes, and not getting any better as time passed.

My first reaction was to tell him firmly to plow on. I was not just firm- I was angry at what I perceived to be his defeatist attitude. I told him that I too had to do things I didn't know or like in the last one year, but I had figured them out with hard work and persistence. If I could do it, he should too. I feel strongly about this issue of giving up half way, so this reaction was instinctive.

Later, while in bed, I felt terrible remorse at how I had reacted. So many thoughts went through my mind. He has only me to talk to- what right have I to push my opinions on him? And was I pushing him for his own good or to save my face? As always, such situations bring out my deepest inner conflicts about my role as the only parent to my kids. Am I a father, tolerating no nonsense and teaching his son to be strong, or am I a mother, gentle and kind and all forgiving.  I remembered how my mother had always unconditionally supported all my decisions, whether they looked good or bad, and how much that meant to me. Didn't Atreya deserve the same unconditional support? I recalled my father's implicit trust in my ability to run my life my way and how much that empowered me. Doesn't Atreya deserve a similar right to make his decisions, and take the reins of his life in his hands? 

After tossing and turning and contemplating on all these issues for a while, the mom and pop in me reconciled and I messaged him to say that whatever he decides to do, I would support him without judging him. I really meant it.

Three days later, I received another call from him while at work. He urgently needed his passport and certificates to be delivered to his camp. These were needed to apply for his citizenship, which was necessary before he could be nominated for an award called Sword of Honor. Not having forgotten our conversation of a few days ago, I didn't pay much attention to the award. In fact, a part of me thought it was a joke. I assumed that this nomination thing was just a gesture, and therefore certainly several cadets from his platoon would have been nominated too. Anyway, since he had asked, I rushed from office to home to pick up the documents and then took a cab to his camp 20 miles away.

There I met his boss, the Captain, and asked him what this award was for and how many cadets had he nominated. He looked at me oddly and said that he was nominating only one from his platoon. There were a total of nine nominations in the entire cohort, one from each platoon, of which only one would win the Sword of Honor. 

Taken aback, I blurted out- “Only one from your platoon? And you chose Atreya? Why?” He looked shocked at my question. But I think we were hell bent on shocking each other, because he responded- “Why? Because he is the best cadet in my platoon”. By now, my head had begun to spin. I said- “But he has not been doing well. How can he be your best cadet?” The response had me totally rethinking everything I knew about my son. The Captain said- “It's Atreya’s humility that he thinks he is not doing well. He is not arrogant enough to believe he knows it all, and works hard to improve constantly. We need more people like him, we need that attitude. He is a role model.”

On the way back, his words kept ringing in my ears. Atreya is the best cadet in the platoon. Atreya’s humility makes him doubt his own performance. Atreya is deserving of the highest award in OCS. Atreya is a role model!

When I spoke to Atreya later that night, I first scolded him for making me go through the hell of guilt and anxiety for almost a year for no reason. I told him I will never empathize or sympathize with him ever again because it is not needed. And so on. He listened to my ranting quietly and when he got a chance to speak, he admitted that he was as shocked as I was at the turn of events! Talk of humility!

As we found out in the next couple of days, Atreya did not after all win the Sword of Honor, but his nomination as the best cadet of the platoon (and award of Sword of Merit) is proof enough about his abilities and character. More than making me proud, which is a fleeting emotion, he makes me confident about how he will deal with the huge change happening in our lives. Just a few days ago, I was faced with the terrible guilt of abandoning my son in his time of need, and here I was watching his self-esteem build up all over again. Could I have asked for more at this juncture? 

I see the Universe winking at me, and I wink right back at it! 

‎"We ordinary people can see neither our own eyelashes, which are so close, nor the heavens in the distance. Likewise, we do not see that the Buddha exists in our own hearts." : Nichiren