A peaceful end to a great year

We had a lovely week at S's mother's village, deep in the Malnad region. Crisp, cool nights and sunny, clear days, with nearly nothing to do all day. If anyone enjoyed herself thoroughly, it was Puttachi. She played with her cousins and the other kids, jumped, screamed, danced, and more than anything, ran. And she ate lots of bananas so she could feed the peels to the cows. She loved the cows, especially the little calf so much, that she would have even spent the night there in the cowshed if we'd let her. As it is, she sat down in some muck trying to hug the calf.

She fed puffed rice to the big fat fish in the river Tunga that flows behind the house, she drew water from the well, ate off banana leaves, and watched in fascination as they used a big stone mortar and pestle to grind food.

And I? I discovered timelessness. I now know what they mean by time standing still. Time refused to move. It would feel like its been hours since I awoke, yet, it would be just ten o clock in the morning. And it wasn't as if I got bored during those long, sluggish hours. I was very much involved in activities like looking at the sky. And for most of the time, I did not even know, nor did I really care what the time was.

But I'm glad to be back.

And I wish you all a wonderful year.

The Thirties

When I was in my early twenties, I had this dread of the thirties.  I don't remember why, though.

But the thirties have been good to me. 

I'm largely comfortable with who I am. There is no more a great struggle to accept myself, my failings, my looks - now I largely know (or think I know) who I am.  But yet, I'm still searching for myself in some way or the other - wondering why I can't get myself to be better at this thing, or why I cannot seem to persuade myself to go out and do that thing.  But compared to the twenties, I can say that my boat is far steadier now.

I've found a little niche for myself, and I'm no longer floundering about wondering what is happening around me.   I've learnt that there is something I can be good at - at which, with some effort, I can perhaps be better than just good.  Yet, I know that I have such a long way to go that any little progress I make seems insignificant. 

I can see that I am more understanding, more loving, and definitely far more accepting and non-judgmental than I ever was. 

I understand my family, my friends and loved ones better, and am more appreciative of their role in my life.

I've known my spouse long enough to know that behind (what I think are) his idiosyncrasies, there beats a sincere and loving heart.  Yet, I don't know him so well that he doesn't spring a surprise on me from time to time.

I love my child, and I know her well.  So I know where I stand in terms of nurturing her, and yet, there is so much I don't know, making every day a learning process.  Every decision is a fine balance - frightening, yet exciting.  Ultimately, very rewarding. 

Yes, the thirties is definitely a better place than the twenties. 

It happened in Puttachi-land...

Puttachi:  Amma, please draw me.

Grabbing a gel pen and the proffered piece of paper, I make a rough sketch.  I have no experience in sketching portraits, and this sketch looks only vaguely like Puttachi, but decidedly older.

Puttachi is in splits when she sees the drawing.

She: Amma, it doesn't look like me at all, but it looks just like you! 

S comes back from work, and Puttachi shows him the sketch.

S: (Grimacing) Whew, I sure hope Puttachi doesn't look like that when she grows up!

Me: *eyerolling*

_______________

Puttachi has an upset tummy, and I'm warning her not to eat the snacks they give at school.

Me: Please eat only what I have sent in your lunchbox.  Don't eat anything at school, remember, and don't drink milk.

She: *wagging her index finger at me sternly* I hope you'll give me buttermilk when I get home, or how will I get my calcium?

Me: Yes! *pumping fist*

Imparting awareness in nutrition - tick.  And the last part was said in correct English too!
____________

Puttachi:  Amma, am I taller or is X (her friend) taller?

Me: What do you think?

She:  I know I am taller than her.

Me: okay.  (Puttachi is taller, but I don't want to make these things an issue, so I don't offer any comment.)

She:  But X keeps telling me that she is taller.

Me: So do you tell her anything?

She: No, I don't.  I just let her think she is taller.  I know I am taller, so I just keep quiet.

If only she retains this wisdom even in the future...

My tech-savvy Ajji

I am a big fan of my Ajji.  A volleyball player in college, and a BA graduate in those days, she even has a published book to her credit ( a translation from English to Kannada.)  So she's always been that little bit ahead of everybody else.

And now, at 84, she has got herself an iPad, and she surfs and emails.  It is lovely to get her mails. And yes, she reads my blog too.

Quick, quick, quick!

After Puttachi gets back from school at about 1 pm, I have a total of just six hours with her before she goes to bed. In these six hours, we have to fit in two meals, one milk+fruits+junk session, and then of course she wants to play at the park, she wants a bedtime story, she absolutely has to do play-acting, and then - drawing/painting/craft/music - whatever she wants to do.

And these six hours are just not enough for everything.  Of course, sometimes we skip going to the park, and on other days, we end up not doing any activities, but even then, it is too short a time.

And this paucity of time is worsened by the fact that her mealtimes stretch on and on and on... she is a good eater, but she is a dreamer too.  Her mealtimes are full of chatter and dreaming with food in her mouth, and forgetting to eat because she found the edge of the tablecloth far too interesting....

And sometimes, at the end of dinner which has gone beyond her bedtime, she is so sleepy that a bedtime story is not possible.  And many times she has to go to bed with a puzzle unfinished, or a book half-read, or without having spent some of her excess energy running around in the park.

As a result, I have turned into this monstrous machine who goes on saying "bega, bega, bega..." (quick, quick, quick) - I keep urging her to finish, and get on with it... and I get impatient if she dilly-dallies - and at the end of the day, after I have tucked her into bed, I feel exhausted and miserable at the same time.

We do enjoy a lot of spontaneous play, and kidding around, we aren't missing out on that - but I get all worked up when she takes too long at a task, because that means we'll have to cut back on something else, or else the evening tea session will get too close to dinner, for which she might not have an appetite left - it is all a terrible mess.

The poor thing - I hate to hurry her like that.  I hope I find my balance soon.

A Disclaimer on the Feature

Now that the hoopla and hullabaloo of the feature in The Hindu is behind me, I must tell you all that I was quite mortified by the feature itself, and the size of the photographs in the actual newspaper.  Publicity is nice, but I wasn't really prepared for so much.

Besides, the article was riddled with factual errors. 

People who know me in and out said, "No way, Shruthi couldn't have said that!"

People who know me quite well said, "Shruthi said that?  Doesn't quite sound like her...."

And I am sure many others, for example those who read my blog, might have thought "Really?  But I thought...."

I could have let it go, but at least on my blog, I am compelled to set the record straight.

No, my name is not Shruti Rao, but Shruthi Rao.

No, it is not true that people don't interest me.  I love people, love to spend time with them.  I find them fascinating.  Too many people for too long tires me out, that's all, and I need to recuperate before meeting more people.   The article makes me sound like a misanthrope or an antisocial element, which I am not.  

No, the Story Lady is not my first story, nor my first children's story, nor is it my first story that has been published, or is going to be published.

No, I don't spend time only creating craftwork with Puttachi, and I don't think that it is the best way to interact with them.  It is just one of the thousands of ways to spend quality time with them.  And I spend time with Puttachi in millions of more satisfying ways.

No, I am not that into embroidery, not worth such a big mention, anyway.   That, and crochet, among other things, are things I experiment with off and on.

No, I am not a software engineer by profession.  I was, but not anymore. 

No, I am not just concentrating on writing my blog, while waiting for Puttachi to grow up.  I don't have any great projects on hand, but I am not sitting around waiting for anything. :)

That feels so much better.

Thank you all for the love and wishes you've sent me in all possible forms of communication. :)  I am overwhelmed!

A feature on me in The Hindu (Metroplus Weekend)

I'm in The Hindu! 

Here are the links to the entire feature:

One
Two

Also, because this feature gives an incorrect impression about me, please read My Disclaimer on this Feature.

Winter mornings

I love winter mornings in Bangalore!

They are so bright, so happy.   An unbelievable amount of sunshine pours  in through the windows, and yet there is a definite nip in the air.  Look outdoors and the world seems to be painted with such clear, firm strokes - no fuzzy outlines anywhere, like a photograph taken with absolutely clear focus.  Even my brain shifts into clear, sharp mode - and there is no place for lethargy.

I feel like running outdoors and feeling the sunshine in my fingers, and in my hair.  Every day is perfect for a picnic.

It's got to be one of the best things about Bangalore - these wonderful winter mornings.  

Puttachi rediscovers the moon

Puttachi goes to bed at 7 pm every day and sleeps until 7 am the next morning.  If we have plans for the evening, I make her take a nap, so that she'll be awake and fresh all evening.  But that doesn't happen too often.  So, for the past six months or so, she had seen the night sky very, very rarely.   She slept when it was light and got up when it was light.

So, now that it gets dark much before 7, she has rediscovered the moon.  Yesterday, she stood at the window just gazing at the full moon, and talking to it.  She refused to come to bed.  She told me that she never knew the moon was so beautiful, and that she'd made friends with it, and it had promised to talk to her everyday.

Today, I allowed her to stay up beyond her bedtime and gaze at the moon, since tomorrow is anyway a holiday.  She chatted to the moon for a while, and then came running to me and S.  "Let's all hug and cuddle and stand at the window and watch the moon together!"  She pulled us both to the window, S had to pick her up and we had to stand in a hug and watch the moon for some time.  She was so utterly delighted.

That emotion moved me so much.  I myself love looking at the moon, so I understand her being besotted with it.  But the desire to share that moment and joy with her loved ones - how wonderful is that!  And how wonderful is the moon that can evoke these kinds of emotions in little beings!

Watching my story come to life.

The award ceremony was great!  I received the certificate and cheque, but the highlight of the programme, for me at least, was the stunning show that the kids from the Parikrma foundation put up.

They started by announcing, "We are going to perform The Story Lady written by Shruthi Rao akka." :)

They were wonderful.  Such happy, bright, enthusiastic children!  It was a fun and imaginative take on my story.  They were true to the story, but adapted it beautifully for the stage.  The props, the costumes, the background music, the songs ... They had everything!  And such a spirited performance, really!

I stood there, immersed in the show, but at one point, I experienced this surreal moment, where I seemed to step back and look at the scene in front of me with a sense of wonder.

These 20-30 children, and their 6-7 teachers have probably spent weeks preparing for this.  They prepared the screenplay, wrote the script, composed songs, set it to tune.  They designed props and elaborate costumes, they cut and pasted and sketched and painted and got it all ready.  They rehearsed the play, they learned their lines, and then they travelled all the way from Hebbal in a big yellow bus to come here and perform.  And here was an illustrious audience, enjoying it, laughing and clapping.

And all this is happening because of a small story written by little ol' me!

It was truly awe-inspiring.  Overwhelming.  I became all emotional and teary-eyed at this point during the show.... The feeling that all this is so much bigger than I am.... not sure if I am making any sense,  but I can't name the feeling myself. I wonder how playwrights feel, and people who have their books turned into movies!  I wonder how J K Rowling feels!

Later, one of the kids came to me and said, "Shruthi Rao akka, your story, akka, very nice akka.  I liked it soooo much, akka!"

Thank you, little Chalapati.  You made my day :)

It was truly a wonderful day because of my family who was with me, S, Puttachi, my parents, aunts, uncles, cousins - so many of them had made it.  And my friends and blog friends who braved the rain to be there.... Thank you so much.

Another lovely thing is that my good friends had won the first and second prizes in the short story for aduts category,  so it was lovely to share the stage with them.  And another great thing was meeting Shashi Deshpande, who wasn't a judge for my category, but who enjoyed the show, and complimented me on the story idea.

A wonderful experience for me.  I'm grateful to Annie Chandy of Unisun, and to Reliance TimeOut.

Happy Birthday, Peevee!

My little sister turns... cough, cough... turns a year older today. This is a card that Puttachi made for S and me two months in advance, and I'm borrowing it to wish Peevee.

No, I don't know what all this is supposed to represent.

And no, don't even dare ask me what is written. Hapee Bart-A of course.

Happy Birthday, Peevee!  :)

Invitation

This is the invitation to the programme where I'll receive my award for the competition I told you about.

I am doubly excited because the kids from Parikrma Foundation are going to perform my prize-winning story. :)

The Analyst

Puttachi is a great one for finding loopholes in mythological stories and fairy tales.  Much of our storytelling session involves my trying to explain some things that cannot be explained. 

Yesterday, I was telling her the story of Rapunzel.

Me: ... So the witch took the baby away, put her in a room on a tall tower that had no steps or ladder.  Rapunzel's hair grew very long, And whenever the witch wanted to get into the tower, she called out "Rapunzel, Rapunzel let down your hair."  And she climbed up the hair like it were a rope.

Puttachi:  Amma, how did the witch go in and out when Rapunzel was a baby?  Did Rapunzel have long hair even then?  And how did she understand what the witch wanted?  And how did such a small baby crawl up to the window and let down her hair?  How, Amma?

Me:  Well, until Rapunzel's hair grew long enough, perhaps the witch flew in and out on her broom.

She: Then why did she stop using the broom later?  Wouldn't it have been easier that way?

Me:  You're right.  Why do you think she stopped using the broom?

She: (thinks) perhaps it broke, or she lost it, or it stopped working.

Me: Yeah, perhaps.

And I continue with the story, and finish it.  But unknown to me, all this is still running in her head.  Hours later, I put her to bed, and come away, and all is silent, and I think she has fallen asleep.  Just then I hear a frantic call.

She: Amma, Amma, AMMMMAAAA!!

Me:  What?  What???

She:  I thought of another reason the witch might have stopped using her broom.....

***

Speaking about analytical minds, here's another funny thing that happened a couple of weeks ago.  I still have many tapes, as in cassettes, you know, from the last century?  And I even have a player to play them.

I am trying to play a cassette, it is not running.

Me:  (Fiddling with it and mumbling to myself)

Puttachi:  (who wants to be in on every aspect of my life, whether or not it concerns her) What, what, what, what?

Me:  (still trying to make it work) Can't play this cassette... I wonder.... what is happening... is the cassette not okay?  Or is it the audio system... I wonder....

She:  Amma, I have an idea.  Try and play another cassette.  If that cassette also doesn't work, it will mean that the audio system is not okay.  If that cassette works, it will mean that this cassette is not okay.

I find it very interesting that much of her waking time is spent in outrageously imaginative fantasies and play-acting, but when presented with some facts, she wants them all to make complete sense, all the ends tied up. I would've thought these two characteristics were far removed from one another, and wouldn't really go together.

Two roads ....

I read a couple of discussions in the past one or two months about whether a woman is happier being a mother. 

I think this is quite like Frost's two roads diverging in the wood.  You choose one and that makes all the difference. 

Five years ago, if someone had announced that Shruthi is going to be this patient, dedicated mother, who would find tremendous happiness in her child, and would be more than content to chuck a well-paying job to stay at home to nurture her child, and explore other avenues, I would have been the first one to laugh, and I'm sure  95% of the people who knew me would have laughed with me.

But nobody is laughing any more.  And this I got to know only after I had my child.  

What if I had chosen not to have a child?
- Perhaps I would have continued in that same dull job and gotten my brains fried.
- Perhaps I would have discovered that I liked the job after all.
- Perhaps I would have progressed to a people-management role and discovered that it was my forte, and perhaps I would be this top-notch executive by now.
- Perhaps I would have realized that that field is not for me and chucked it anyway to do something else.
- Perhaps I would have found my (once-upon-a-time) dream job that involved travelling all around the world.
- Perhaps I would have been very very sad.
- Perhaps I would have been happier than I am now.

Perhaps.

But who can say? The fact is that I chose this road, for reasons I don't remember quite clearly.  And the fact is that I have found happiness and contentment here.

Same with any decision in your life.  This field of education, that field.  This job, that job.  Marrying, not marrying.  Having one child, having multiple children.  I mean, what do you know?  How can you say ahead of time, that Option 1 will be better than Option 2?  Even after you've married Guy X, how can you be sure that you would've been happier with Guy Y?

Perhaps it is all about standing up for yourself, making yourself comfortable, and finding happiness in whatever you are doing, wherever you are. 

So no, I don't think there are no answers to the question - What are the right choices that lead to a person's happiness.

What do you think?

Thank you, Steve

I'm not sure if there's a term for people like me - not a technophobe, not a technophile, but more of a techno-okwhatever. Gadgets got smarter, but with every new advancement, my ability to get jaw-droppingly amazed only got dulled.

Until the iPad happened to me.

A more elegant, breathtaking device I've never seen. And very late, but very enthusiastically, I joined the legion of Steve Jobs fans.

Thank you, Steve Jobs.

Yay!!

September has really been a good month for my writing.  My children's story "The Story Lady" won the First Prize in the Unisun - Reliance TimeOut Competition.  The prize money is twenty five thousand rupees.  I know, my head is whirling!  The story will be included in an anthology, to be published in the next few months.  More details and links later. 

I've so many drafts in my head - so much to say - but thanks to a very busy schedule, plus lots of power cuts,  they will all have to wait. 

Two pieces published

I am back after a lovely, "different" vacation, and before I write about my trip, and reply to comments on my last post, I want to share two writing successes with you.

My story "All that glitters" which I had entered for the Sunday Herald short story competition, won a special mention, and has been published here in today's Sunday Herald.

An article about the reasons behind rhymes was published in Friday's Open Sesame.

Hope you like them.

A mother's nightmare

Puttachi:  Amma, won't it be nice to be able to see in all directions at once?  Not only in front?
Me:  Mmm, yeah.... like eyes in the back of your head?
She: No, if we have only eyes in the back of our head, it will get covered by hair.  So we should have three more heads.  One at the back, one each at the sides.
Me: Hmm, but I can think of one problem with that - you will have to get four heads washed (she hates hairwashes) every time your hair gets dirty!
She: (ignores me) But you can see everywhere!  We can walk backwards without turning our necks!
Me: (intent on being a partypooper)  When you have a cold, you will have to clean four noses.  Every morning and evening, you will have to brush four sets of teeth because you will have four mouths!
She: (eyes lighting up)  Four mouths!  Amma, that will be so much fun!  One mouth can keep talking, and then when it gets tired, the second mouth can start talking, and so on, and by the time the fourth mouth gets tired, the first mouth will not be tired any more and then it can start talking again!  I can talk all the time!
Me: (faints)

Copycat

I realized I should do this more often - but today, I just entered my blogname into http://copyscape.com, and found that this website  has copied this post of mine  word to word, with no credit, of course.  I've written to them to ask them to remove it from the site. Waiting to hear from them.

Suggestions on what else I could do?

Update on 20th.: thank you all for your support! Citrus Heights got back to me and told me they have removed the post, and also notified the blogger who posted it on their site. But that blogger still has that post on her blog
There is no contact info on her blog, and only members are allowed to comment on her blog. What should I do next? Report to google?

Update on 25th:  Since I had no way to contact the plagiarist blogger and resolve this privately, I had to approach Google.  They were very quick, within a few hours, they got the content removed from the page and reported it to me.

The blogger now has a note at the end of that page, in which she calls me a cyber stalker and a bully and accuses me of stealing her content, and plays the martyr, saying she cannot help it if people choose to steal from her!  And this from a person who had copied my content so directly, that she had retained words like "menthya" and "methi" that were in my post, the meanings of which there is not the remotest chance of her knowing!  :) And the only way I could copy her was for me to travel forward in time to  May 4th, read her post, come back to  May 1st and write it all down.  Phew, some people, I tell you!

Anyway, I hope that's the end of that.

Another children's story....

....published in today's Open Sesame.   It is based on real-life experiences. :)