Monday, May 20, 2013

Homegrown Zen.







Mother.  

This word has brought a new identity to my existence. The creator of my motherhood is 'Ananya'. She has mothered me despite of being my first born child. Ananya in Sanskrit means ‘unique’. Could I have searched any other name for my offspring? She has stood true to her name in totality. Do you think it is naïve of me to say that Ananya is smallest but steadiest teacher?  She gives significance to the phrase ‘a child gives birth to a mother.’ Spending 18 months with her now, I have known so many good as well as not so good things about me. In her small ignorant gestures she makes me learn so many lessons that too unknowingly. I am not saying she is a super kid…an extraordinary child; Ananya is a happy child with many facets of living a cool, less stressful and a brimmingl life.   


                                             

Ananya was born just when we were supposed to shift to a different apartment in the same city. So when she was just 14 days old, we shifted our house. Everything went fine. We had a new beginning.  And Ananya got a better neighborhood and a better location to grow up. We shifted from Indirapuram-Ghaziabaad to Greater Noida. The air was fre It was 9 months of Greater Noida, and then we had to move again. We shifted to Pune. As parents we always want Ananya to see people, characters and be receptive to change.The air was fresh and had open spaces to meander. Carrying her in our arms we led to a new and better living. Because of this attractive package in our Godi, she acted as a catalyst for us in making and maintaining friendships. And so she is. Pune welcomed her too. The cool weather, open space all workedin her favour.

As a child ‘persistence’ is what she preaches the most. She must have fallen N number of times from her bed, her stool, her chair, my lap, her car seat but she never gave up. Now too when I see her playing with a very ordinary toy or an object of interest, she is so engrossed that she almost detaches herself from her surroundings, her relations and only focuses on her play.  Now for me concentration has become rare commodity. But Ananya …she teaches otherwise. Likewise, it is so easy for her forget what happened the very last moment and enjoy the coming instant.  It takes me days, months &; years to forget what went wrong and still go on with my daily life. But Ananya naturally deletes her cookies and looks forward to making fresh ones. 

The other mothers from nuclear families will agree with me, bringing up a child is not an easy task. Somewhere down the lane one tends to loose temper, and shout or throw a tantrum. She goes through all that as a child and still comes back to me for me to caress her and tell her that everything is fine.  

You are my 'nanhaa babboo' and no matter how mischievous you are or how angry I am you will always be loved. As a grownup, if someone has spoken ill of me or has behaved badly with me or with my family or friends, it takes me no time to first give them a piece of my mind and then amputate them from my system. She accommodates anyone & everyone inspite of their immorality.

Unconditional love is best demonstrated by Ananya. Whether it be Shardatai (our domestic help),Umesh Bhai (our washerman ), Khushi (neighboring building’s watchman’s daughter),Jagdevi Tai (our sweeperwoman)…she is friends with everyone. Not only that, she makes them feel special because of her association with them. Such a petite body and mind to have so many fine functions.Not only that it does not matter to her if people are good or not really nice to her parents or her extended family. She maintains her own ratio, her own equation, her own balance with them. She smiles and plays with them. I appreciate her rapport that is so boundless. 



May be that is why children are called pure souls, angels sent by God to remind us that goodness and kindheartedness are merits that will prevail for a long time. So we better not brush them away from our sleeves. History proves, human race has ended but humanity has still prevailed.  As we grow up our pure souls also transform into the manipulative, selfish & self centered us.  Childhood hence could be termed as best time for fructifying children as there is less of ill ego and more of bestowing traits to render. Well, my little pedagogue has just pooped, and is crying for attention. At your service my Lilliput teacher!

Thursday, May 9, 2013

My Breathing Space.



Where we have shifted in Pune, we are very close to a river called Mutha. It runs parallel to a Temple called ‘Kaalbhairav’. It is my covert hangout these days. This rivulet being located near the temple, very few people see what I get to see. Their spirituality confines them to the holiness inside the temple, but the same belief fails to push them to make a effort to go down the stairs to feel the divinity, which can really soothe ones soul.


Being a mother of an 18 month old daughter sometimes makes me a little berserk as I sometimes try to be a Super Mom and a Wife and a Daughter and a Friend. It is not the responsibility that deters me, but the fact that I sometimes forget who I really am and what I really like.  
 

When I first camped to this riverside I was actually amazed to see such a tranquil location so close to a busy township with a cluster of call centers around it. It is a picture perfect place, more like a Windows Wallpaper types. The periphery of the temple merges with the riverbank with enormous steps going downwards towards the river. And as you climb down the stairs your eyes witness the bliss that makes you question your inner self, “Why can’t I live here forever?” And then you think “Don’t be naïve!” There are piece gardens wherein there are small benches facing the emerald shadows of greenery in the still but mutely moving water.


Feeling the fresh breeze against your skin at early daybreak or witnessing the evening sun take you into a fantasy land where you think that time would hold still and nothing will change and you don’t have to go back and face the reality of life.

Trudging to this heavenly abode has become a habit for me. Between the tweeting of the nature and the scent of tropical flora around… it’s me and only me to take pleasure. As if I am nature’s sole client and the innate subjects of the ‘Green’ are staging a beautiful monologue for me. There is a small bridge that connects the riverside area to the main city. Every time I see this bridge it speaks to me that you’ve to find your bridge, which will connect your peaceful inner self to the outer urban existence who has to go do every day chores, face the other not-so-kind society, and come back here to recognize the composure that remains here while you are gone.


Imagine an empty cinema hall and its screen lit up with shades of yellow, orange and red mixed in a bowl and painted against a golden canvas. In addition to it the returning of the birds to their nests with their best vocal background scores introduces a harmonious chord to my well being. I do not want to close my eyes because if I do so I go back to normal tasks that might wear me down sometime. This captivating panorama showing the fire blazing over the horizon tells me it’s time for night fall, the dynamic blue is stealing the yellow, but it won’t be long that the enchanted ambiance will rest  for a while and next day the brightest star will shine again singing “A new day has come!”



The irony of life is that even though such a splendid place exists that too just around the corner, we still keep looking for exotic and adventurous spots for vacations. Such vacations are often planned keeping in mind that one needs to go to such retreats just with the sole purpose of posting the pictures on Facebook and receiving half a dozen comments and likes. In the middle of our mundane and conditional activities can we make an effort to find peace and solitary happiness at an approachable distance? Well that was a positive for me; I hope the same for you.


Acknowledgements: Special Thanks to Manish Agarwal for the heavenly pictures & Manish Mishra for his insightful inputs.


Ananya gazing into sunset@ Kaalbhairav

Ananya enjoying.

Thursday, May 2, 2013

Unresolved Mysteries …



News is the communication of selected information on current events which is presented by print, broadcast, Internet, or word of mouth to a third-party or mass audience. In contrast news nowadays is a piece of story or a nonfiction thread that can make the reader go dumb. Like the series of current affairs that is making me speechlessly dumb. News meets a mixture of social, civic, personally-enriching, and work-related needs in people’s lives. True…but for me news is sadly disturbing piece of information that makes you think “Hello !!!  Are we living in Kalyug”. Kaliyug-The "Age of Downfall", is the fourth stage of the world development that we are currently in. As the corruption gradually developed wider in the earlier stages. This stage is the climax stage when the world finally meets a judgment day at the end of it as said in Hindu Scriptures. It's not known when the end comes, but it's believed that we still have a long way to go. At the end of KalYuga, it is believed that a new order of a peaceful global society will be established. i will be happy if a new non violent, calm and a civilized culture will take birth. 

Past few months’ series of news bulletins that were deemed as 'BREAKING NEWS' have broken my heart again and again. I don’t know or I’ll rather say…I can’t trust if one man can be kind to another just for no reason at all. So the New Year itself started with the death of Nirbhaya. We said goodbye to a flame of hope and humanity.  I was aghast with what Nirbhaya went through, her torture and pain. Finally with her passing away I thought maybe now she will be harmless and at peace. The reek of her anguish & suffering was still in the air that I spot news of 5 year old being raped…not only raped but GANG RAPED!  I read the headlines and question myself are we humans or have opted to live like cannibals. So much for sentences and punishments being the talk of the town, and here we go again with sexual assaults. Are we not scared at all...? Are we desensitized to such an extent that we as in the public make a mistake which is inconsolable to any degree. None the less, our authorities are busy indeed busy making laws and decrees as never even in our nightmares we had thought of us humans to attempt rape and puncture the vagina’s of girls(girls here comprise of any element of female fraternity be it a 5 year old, a college goer or even a lady reaching her menopause) for momentary pleasures.

Ek thi Daayan. The film released just a few days back. News and media have almost made a mother Daayan. I am talking of the much unclear anonymity behind Aarushi’s murder case. According to the CBI it was a cold blooded murder that too by her parents. They have applied simple math here. 4 people were present in the house during time of the murder, 2 are dead… 2 dead and two alive…that gives you an answer to the 2 unfortunately living have to be the murderers. Being a mother, how can I believe something this filthy to be true? And if it is… this filth is going to increase day by day. It has Nupur, Aarushi’s mother portrayed as a Daayan and her father Rajesh a Kasaai-a Butcher. These two have been convicted of slaying their own daughter for their personal interests.  A massacre that has slaughtered esteem & identity of the Talwar’s to a big level. 

Lastly and I hope the least , Sarabjit met his end early morning today.  For me he too has attained moksha & peace only by his death. Since 1990, he was battling with the assumptions of being an intruder to Pakistan according to Pakistan's intelligence services, and according to his own intelligence he was just passerby who accidently crossed home soil in the influence of alcohol and was given a new birth of a spy by the Pak authorities.  Even if we assume that if he was a spy why didn’t our authorities do something for our ‘Agent Vinod’ rotting in jail and longing to be with his family for 23 long years? He was captured as Manjit Singh and died in that name too.  After his demise when the drama is over why debate on giving him national honor at his funeral and giftng him matrydom? Will that bring back the lost fatherhood for his daughters? Will that retrieve the criticism his family must have gone through these years. Will it bring back the sanity for Sarabjit’s village men to think that our neighboring country blamed for so many grey cases may even turn out to be a nation of nice hearted and fair people?  There is only a single answer to all the above questions…. No no noo!!!

I slept over all these news to dream of a small sequence. I see a round table conference …there is huge table placed with four chairs against one huge chair on the other side. There are clouds in shades of white, silver & blue all over. On the one huge seat against the 4 small seats is a wise, white robed man seated. He carries a colossal book on his desk which he fills in with a feathered pen and ink. His four subjects seated in front are in the order of their dismissal from earth. Aarushi, next seat is Nirbhaya, next to her is the 5 year old and then the latest entrant Sarabjit. The wise man who is kindly interrogating the four is filling information in the book which is title as “Unresolved Mysteries Volume 2013-10K”. What a puzzle. If I could only know what must have been the truth, what must have climaxed that time of their demise…Would that change anything intime today? Would I know who killed Aarushi, was Sarabjit really Manjit Singh? What horrible exchange of words must have taken for the rapists to torment Nirbhaya to death, and what led to a Man’s mind for him to quench his bodily thirst by entering into a 5 year olds tender body.Knowing the anwers I would not be any different from those who know the resolve to these secrets but are mum becauuse of pressure & media hypes.

And so...all my questions remain unanswered and left to be resolved....but another grave quention now....    is 'BY WHOM'???

My Shelfari Bookshelf

Shelfari: Book reviews on your book blog