Apr 27, 2016

I Chose to be a Parent, Now I am Learning to be One

Let me begin by a frank admission that I think I taught my children to scream by screaming at them first.

“To kill a mockingbird”, I happened to read this brilliant book only recently and am completely enthralled by the profound simplicity and gravity of this book. I can’t add much to the already exalting praise of the author or her writing except that it is one of the most beautiful literary amalgams of thought, creativity and craft that I have come across. But what truly touched me in the book is Mr. Atticus Finch, the lawyer, the father and sole parent of the two central characters Jem and Scout. Why Atticus alluded me so much is in the fact that I attended a ten session workshop called “Parenting Matters” and every time I was reading the book he seemed to be gently reminding me of all that I had learnt there but was failing to implement.

 Mr. Finch is a man of lofty character and benign understanding. At the same time he is a man of tacit and stoic demeanor and maintains the same with his kids as well. He is a detached individual but a compassionate father; he is a disciplinarian but with brimming empathy. He embodies everything that an enlightened parent stands for. I have deliberately chosen the word “enlightened” instead of “good” because every parent is good, in fact they are doing or trying to do their best for their kids, out of ignorance or awareness is another thing. In fact while Atticus’s character unfolded with every passing page, I increasingly felt that Harper Lee modelled him based on the workshop’s knowledge blended with perfect realism.  

Parenting is a tough call, raising another individual to become a worthy, self respecting and humane being is by no measure a clear cut task. Our changed lifestyles and family set ups with an exodus of parenting information only add to making it a highly emotionally draining activity. However, my newly acquired knowledge on parenting made me appreciate the complexity of my job and understand it as a science as much as an art. Our parents did the best for us, gave us values, discipline, confidence and a sense of self worth. However, in the course of this upbringing we were often disapproved, labelled, criticized, not understood and whacked. We regularly do the same to our toddler, young, adolescent and grown up kids and at times with teeth clenching intensity. Yet, by and large all of us have turned out fine, and are doing pretty well for ourselves. Not to mention that we love and respect our parents. So most likely our kids too will turn out reasonably alright OR nurse faint scars forever.

During one the sessions, we traced back into our childhood memories and all of us came up with varied emotions some were bright and happy others dark and cynical, which only showed that even after years we still felt the burning and hurtful twinge of those disconnected emotions somewhere deep. And our own upbringing very stealthily influences us in the way we deal with our children. I was sort of petrified of my parents’ maybe I still am, but my elder brother was relatively not, so he became my support system. A kind of disaster management control which was available every time I was in a coup. This in turn nurtured a very trusting, secure and special bond between him and me which I still share. I also never talked back or argued with my parents, so I realized when my son talks back to me it really antagonizes and upsets me. I cannot accept it because I was never allowed to do it. More so, when my husband and I planned to start our own family, I was very adamant that I wanted two kids, preferring an elder son and a younger daughter because subconsciously I was longing to see a continuity of my own sibling bond in them. How much we carry from our own past experiences is unbelievable.

These realizations are sensitively crucial when we are talking about parenting. Understanding our own back stories and belief systems can open a lot of closed doors of connection. It gives us an unbiased window to look at matters, with much needed empathy, trust and open mindedness. And Mr. Atticus Finch does all of it so effortlessly. I might sum it up as he respects his children as equals. And as a parent I wish to emulate him. Enlightened parenting isn’t about garnering your kids’ co-operation to get things done, it is about connecting. It is about responding rather than reacting. And despite my new knowledge and Mr. Finch’s admirable inspiration, I completely fail as a parent at times and I am not embarrassed to admit it. Accepting yourself and others is the first and simplest step to progress. And I am glad to be honestly trying.


But some days they manage to drive you crazy without concession. Hence, I have cleverly shifted the onus of being an empathetic and stable parent on them. Every time they get onto my nerves I tell them, “Look I am trying real hard to be a good parent so please behave yourself and don’t make me scream and shout because if I get angry now, the blame is on you.” Jokes apart, I have consciously understood that empathy and respect for your child irrespective of his age is the cornerstone of a strong and sound parent-child connection.

Apr 7, 2016

So What’s Your EQ? (Excitement Quotient)

It was a usual morning, nothing extraordinary about it unless I say that I woke up alive another day with all my beloveds still very much around me, running about their lives just the way I go about mine. In that sense I should rephrase it as a blessed morning. So on this gifted day, I was returning after dropping my little girl to school and was taking in of the morning humdrum on the road when a particular girl of about 22-24 years caught my attention for a fleeting moment. She looked so happy to be there in that moment, going about in that self assured and satisfying gait. There was something to look forward to in her life on that particular day; I could sense that from my car’s rolled up windows.  Maybe a date with someone special or a first day at her choicest job or a fat bonus? Or maybe nothing. Is that a possibility, to be happy without an apparent reason? Maybe...

However, after that happy-go-lucky girl’s glimpsing encounter, I got curious for some more people watching on the way. I kept my gaze attentively on the road and observed at least ten more people’s expressions. I wasn’t expecting what I saw. Most of them, read 80%, literally had frowning creases on their forehead be it women standing at the bus stop, men simply ambling around, another one buying a smoke, or someone sweeping his shop front. They all had a very uneasy expression of ennui and boredom. That cheerful girl was an exception. And it didn’t require face reading skills to decipher this. The experience stayed with me throughout the day so I repeated the exercise the next day. And the observation wasn’t any jovial, the same frowning lines on the forehead. For a moment I thought it might be the notorious Chennai heat making them squint and frown in the sun. But it wasn’t so.

The whole picture didn’t sadden me but bothered me. Not that I am bubbling with exuberance all morning or all day but that kind of disenchantment on people’s faces on a fresh bright morning set me to write. Yes, people have real problems in their lives, terrible issues to tackle and several ends to meet. Days are distressed and strife ridden at times which causes grief, anxiety and anger. But what I saw was clearly not these; it was a kind of resignation of life like there was nothing more to be excited about. There is something amiss as basic as the delight of life itself. The very element of being alive is a drudgery heightened by the roles and responsibilities of the world they inhabit. 

Life is mundane, surely not about big events because they happen seldom yet it is all about celebration. Celebrating a beautiful book you read, a movie that touched you, a corn you shared with your child at the beach, the cool breeze that stroked you on the morning walk, the flowers you saw blossom in your balcony, a new recipe you tried, an excursion you made... there is so much to look forward to, to feel good about if we wish to. The joys are in the simplest of things which form the very rut of our lives. The saddest or most regrettable thing is that most people don’t even realize that there is something missing from their lives. And unless you know about the ‘missing’ part how do you even set about to find it.

Anita Moorjani, is a cancer survivor who slipped into coma and then had a near death out of body experience. She says this phenomenon changed her life forever for good. Today, she is full of life both literally and metaphorically. I happened to see her online interview and what inspired me the most was when she stated that as a free spirit detached from her body, she could see life in its truest form which is a beautiful gift to be celebrated. And I thought why risk slipping into coma to realize and verify this fact, I might as well take her word for that. Ever since then I have been repeating it to myself every morning.  It eases the creases from the forehead.


I sincerely wish that all the people out there despite their struggles will see a reason to restore the lost and missing passion in their lives. Why should anybody be sapped of their most delicious life juices and be left with roughage alone? I mean who would be so crazy to chew on just the fibres of an orange while leaving the luscious segments away. It’s a crime and you cannot commit it unto yourself.