Day 6 - The joy of owning less

Every increased possession loads us with new weariness. -John Ruskin, author, art critic, and social reformer (1819-1900) 

This quote came along with AWAD a couple of days ago.  Coincidental, when I was just experiencing the freedom of owning just two pieces of footwear. 

Ok, to start from the beginning.  From the past few months, I've had a pain in the ball of my foot, for which I've been advised to wear special footwear, and get a bar attached to it for support.  Temporarily.  (Hopefully.)

So, in essence, I now have just one pair to wear at home, and one to wear outside.  Whether or not the outside pair suits or matches with my current outfit - I have to wear it anyway.  Initially, I felt quite wretched, not being able to wear footwear that I found elegant, but as the days flew past - what freedom it brought me!  No having to decide what to wear - will I have to walk a lot, will this suit this dress?  Nothing!  And this is being said by me, I, who at any given time in my life, possess just about 4-5 pairs of footwear!  Can't even begin to imagine how all those with dozens of pairs of footwear manage.

It reminds me of my mother telling us about how many clothes they had back when they were young.  She and her sister both together, owned 3 sarees for regular use.  And perhaps one for special occasions.  It could all fit into one single shelf of a cupboard!   And there is a Kannada phrase "mai mElondu, kOl mElondu."  "One on your back, one on the pole (a horizontal pole on which they used to hang clothes)"  - meaning, they just had two outfits.  Wear one while the other is being washed.  That's it!

Many new items that you buy force you to buy something else for them. We call this  "Sanyasi samsaara" in Kannada, referring to the traditional tale of the Sanyasi who bought a cat to get rid of the mouse that was chewing up his dhoti.  And then he had to buy a cow to provide milk for the cat, then a shed for the cow, and then an attendant to look after the cow, and so on until he ended up becoming a landed man with a wife and three children.

Sounds familiar, huh?  

I don't know about you, but I am a great believer in owning fewer things.  Those who know me well will nod their heads sagely and say that it is only because I am too lazy to maintain things, and it is my way of shirking responsibility.  Be that as it may, but for me, less things = more peace.

Day 5 - Impostor syndrome

When does a writer start being a writer? The moment she writes a word? The day she completes a piece of writing? The first time her work is published?

Turns out that for me, none of that was enough. I had won an award for a short story, had published a few children's stories in a newspaper supplement, and yet, I didn't consider myself a writer.

At a party, a friend was introducing me to someone, and she waved her hand at me, and said, "She's a writer." I looked over my shoulder to see whom she was pointing at. And then grinned sheepishly.

It was at this time that I won a prize for my children's story. What followed after that was beyond anything I had expected. First of all, my story was performed by schoolchildren. It gave me such a high. Shortly after that, The Hindu called to ask if they could do a feature on me.

It was unreal. Why would they want to do a feature on poor little me? In my head, a writer is someone mature and accomplished. And I was the opposite. So why would a newspaper want to feature me? And it wasn't even just any rag - The Hindu, of all papers.

 And then it got wilder. On the day of the interview, the photographer arrived first, and went click-click-click, making me pose, and turn, and saying - stand in the light, stand facing the light, smile, relax your features.... and I obeyed like a zombie. Just as he was leaving, the interviewer arrived, and she talked to me for about an hour. It was fun to give the interview, but the moment she left, my brain couldn't take it anymore.

It was a severe dichotomy  in my head - "what should be (a writer)" vs. "what is (me)." And I couldn't reconcile the two. Then it turned physical. My teeth started chattering, I started trembling, and my legs wobbled. I was alone at home. I heated a cup of water for myself (I was shivering too much to trust myself to brew a cup of tea.) I wrapped myself in a blanket and curled up on the sofa and sipped the hot water until my body relaxed.

And then, I started crying. I have no idea why. Hot tears flowing down my cheek like they wouldn't stop. I don't remember too much what I did.  I think I called S and my mom, but I am not sure.

And what thoughts were going on in my head?

 "This shouldn't be happening to me."
 "I'm just an average writer who had a stroke of luck - they shouldn't be making so much of me."
"I'll never be able to write another good word, and then the whole world will know I am fake."
"They should stop calling me a writer - I am not one."
"Is there any way I can get them to stop the article getting published?"

In a few hours, I was completely back to normal.  I even looked forward to the article, and though it initially shocked me to see my face printed across half a page, I enjoyed all the attention when it did come out.

Later, a conversation with my aunt revealed to me that what I was feeling was called "Impostor syndrome" and it is very real, and that I am not alone. Can't tell you how relieved I was to find that I wasn't abnormal after all!

Even then, I could not call myself a writer. I would cringe if I was refered to as a writer. Given that I hold so much esteem for writers, why do I run away from that name? Do I think so low of myself?  I don't think so. Is it a false sense of modesty? I have no idea. Or maybe my idea of a writer is someone with a book to her name or something big like that, and so I don't consider myself "there" yet. I wish I knew what it was.

Only in the last  year, I have been comfortable with that tag, and though I hesitate slightly before I say it, I do say - "I'm a writer." And the more I say it, the easier it gets.

Note:  I needed a year and a half to bring myself to write about this! Gotta thank my post-a-day effort.

Day 4 - Puttachi at Six.

Many people ask me why I don't put up Puttachi updates frequently any more.  There were many more LOL-worthy incidents when she was younger.  The way her mind worked, the funny things she said.... not that there aren't any now, but she's - let's face it - growing up!  And updates about a big little girl are not as much fun, or of interest to a general audience, as those of a little girl.

Anyway, Puttachi turned six last month, and at least for myself, I need an update post.

At this age,  this is how she is:

Her nature -

• Still very sweet.
• Vocal about her feelings
• Very empathetic - cries during movies, actually seems to feel my pain if I stub my toe.
• Very very very lavish with the hugs and the cuddles and the kisses. She likes nothing better than cuddling up to me as soon as she wakes up in the morning.  Had a luxurious time indulging in this during the summer holidays, but have limited it to three minutes now that school has started.
• She's started showing spirit (more on that in another post)
• Enjoys humour, loves jokes.
• Loves to laugh.
• Always in high spirits (90 pc of the time)
• She still loves to talk, and does the talking for both S and me all the time.  

Reading 

• Has to be the single greatest skill she has learned in recent times - and I don't mean just learning to read - I mean loving to read books.  We are members of JustBooks, and we cannot seem to borrow books fast enough for her.
• I have had to drag her away from books, apply time-limits, and have even had to admonish her when she reads at the dinner table.  (Sounds familiar, huh, Amma?)

Sports and Games 

• She's been learning badminton for the last 8 months or so, and seems to enjoy it.  I'm glad I put her into an organized sport - something that will compel her to exercise regularly - her stamina has increased.
• She loves the water- and though she cannot swim yet, she enjoys splashing about in the pool 
• She doesn't enjoy jigsaw puzzles as much as she used to, and she loves board games.   She also enjoys word games.  She is still in love with her little tricycle.
• She's crazy about the swing - we have a big wooden plank-swing inside our house, and she and her friends really have fun with it.

• Increasingly plays by herself - is happy doing things on her own.  Still plays with dolls, and talks to them all the time.  Makes up elaborate stories that she enacts with her dolls, that go on and on for days.
• Enjoys making tents with dupattas and bedsheets and setting up her family underneath them

Music

• I've been trying to teach her the basics of classical music.  The initial progress was slow, and then she picked it up quickly and sings pretty well.  But it is really hard to get a routine going when your teacher happens to be your mother as well.  In the middle of singing, she stops and starts telling me something funny that happened to her that day.  And if I tell her to sing a particular line 10 times until she gets it, she laughs half the time.  I've told her that she can stop if she's not interested, but she insists that she wants to learn.  So....I need to handle this differently.  Still trying to work it out.
• Especially when she is painting or drawing, she sings under her breath constantly.  It is so much fun to watch her do that.

Art and Craft

She enjoys art and craft, and messing about with paints, and paper and scissors and glue.  She is thrilled if both of us sit together to create something new.

Eating

• Puttachi has never been fussy about food.  She even declares sometimes that she didn't like a certain something "that much" but will finish it anyway because it is healthy.  I know, too good to be true.  But ever since she started eating all by herself (about 2 years back) - it has been a nightmare because she takes ages and ages to finish.  Either talking or dreaming.  And she insists on finishing the food on her plate, which can be really annoying at times, when I just want to clear up the kitchen and go, and when she doesn't let me feed her to hasten the process.  Finally, after two years of torture, things seem to be looking up.  There have been mis-steps, but the going seems to be good.  Phew!
• Finally I am also getting to know her food preferences. That she prefers chapati over rice, that watermelon and sapota are her favourite fruits and she doesn't care much for mango, that she worships cashews and sev, and that she prefers eating vegetables just like that, and loves the simplest of dals.

Friends.  
She has a highly-favoured inner circle of friends  now, and enjoys spending long hours with them, play-acting, or just behaving silly.

What she looks like

• She's tall for her age - lanky, long-legged. But her cheeks are still reminiscent of their childhood roundness. As she loses more and more of the little-girl look, I find myself  increasingly drawn to her baby and toddler pictures and videos.  What has remained constant is the intensity of the look in her eyes, and the way she furrows her brows when she is listening intently or concentrating, or thinking.
• She is still in the I-want-long-hair mode, and I am cooperating.  Though, I have warned her that if it takes too long to do her hair on school mornings, I'll have to cut it to a more manageable length.  That makes her cooperate in so many ways!

Day 3 - Storybook Me

Storybook Me is a non-profit organization that creates personalized storybooks for underprivileged children. It is the brainchild of 18-year-old Sanjana Tadepalli.  They had called for volunteer writers and illustrators for their first set of books, and I offered to write a story for them.

I was paired with an illustrator, and one child was allotted to us.  We never met the child, but were given details about her - her picture, her likes, her fears, her dreams.... Based on this, I came up with a story featuring the child, who gets to do in the book what she actually would like to do.  Then the illustrator, Manoj Nath, created the pictures.  I received a copy of the book a couple of weeks ago, and I must say it is very well-produced.  Good paper, clear print, even a glossary at the end for difficult words.  And finally, a photoshopped picture of the child with her favourite movie star, who makes an appearance in the story too! :)

The books were handed out to the children last month, and we were told that we would be sent links to the video.  I am looking forward to that, and will update this post with it.

Here are a few pictures:

The cover:

Loved the detailed illustrations by Manoj Nath.

Writer and Illustrator Bios.

No, this is not a book you'll be able to buy - there are just a handful of copies for all the, shall we say, stakeholders?

Such a good idea, isn't it, to make children feel special?

(This post is part of my one-post-a-day effort for the month of June.)

Day 2 - The Sound of Music - through the years

The Sound of Music is probably one of the first movies I ever watched.  And it is a movie that I have watched again and again throughout my life.  I'm sure that holds good for many of you.

- My earliest memories of the movie are just of those parts with the children.  At each watching, I understood more and more of the movie. Like layers of paint being applied to a canvas, each time with more detailing.

- At every age, different songs appealed to me.  Initially it was "Doe a deer."  In my teens, it was "You are sixteen" (I could sing it well too, and my friends kept asking me to sing it for them.)  Later, it changed very frequently, and has settled down to "Edelweiss" since the last few years.

- When we were young, all characters appeared black or white.  I would treat the Baroness like a wicked witch.  It was such a revelation when I watched the movie after a long gap and discovered that she was just, well, human!

- On my latest viewing (last month) I discovered that some of the songs and dialogues in the movie are totally at odds with the feminist ideas in me.  Over the last couple of years, I've become increasingly aware about social norms and patriarchy and misogyny, and I've repeatedly  discovered that many of my favourite songs and movies are so terribly chauvinistic.  It's not a good feeling - to find that something you loved before makes you uncomfortable now - but I'm not sorry. This new awareness has done me good.

- Every time I watch the movie, I view it differently. But one thing that has remained constant over the years, is my swooning over the elegance of Christopher Plummer.

- I watched the movie with Puttachi for the first time last month, and of course I had to keep up a constant explanation for her.  I had considered stopping the movie after the first half, but she would have none of it.  She even protested hotly when I insisted that we watch the second half the next day, for it is too long a movie.  I prevailed, of course, and she was restless until she got to watch the second half.

The highlight of the movie-watching with her, is this conversation:
(The song "My favourite things" is playing.)

Me: Puttachi, good idea, isn't it?  When you are scared, just like you think of your "happy place," you can also think of your favourite things and that will make you feel better.
She: Yes!
Me:  So, what are your favourite things?
She:  (thinks for a second)  You, Amma.

Didn't you see me floating with the clouds?

Day 1 - The greatest challenge in blogging

I broke my head for over a month, wondering if I should indeed give myself this challenge.  It's one thing giving yourself a private challenge, but it is a completely different matter to make a commitment in public, and then scramble about, trying not to fall face first in the mud.  

After I put up yesterday's post, the mouse kept moving towards the delete button, but my will prevailed, and so it stays.  

But why is it so difficult to blog nowadays?  It came so easily to me before.  Now, though I have started writing professionally, it seems more difficult to articulate my thoughts on the blog.

My blog has been running for eight years.  Initially, I made up blog posts on the long commutes to and from work, and when I got to a computer, I would write it all down.  I wrote about my life, my experiences, my opinions - everything I saw would turn into a blog post.  I liked that.  I had the time to turn thoughts around in my head and format it into a nice, interesting post.   My old posts are jaunty, carefree, and fun to read, even if I say so myself! And oh, I had lots and lots of commenters, and I had the time and the patience to answer them all individually and with wit.  That made more people comment, and so, my blog was a very lively place.  

After Puttachi was born, my blog took on a whole new slant.  Posts on parenting and posts about my baby became frequent.  The young and the restless looked elsewhere, but from another direction, a whole new audience came by.  But at this point, I didn't have the time nor the energy to reply individually to comments, though I tried.  But thankfully, that didn't drive my readers away - the numbers tell me so.  But the blog is more of a one-way affair now.  It is sad, but inevitable.  

So coming back to this question, why do I blog less now?  The main reason pops right up - I am more judgmental about my writing now.  I am too critical about what I write, and before I put anything up, I think twice, and thrice, and four times, by which the urge to put that post up has long since fizzled out.  

So this challenge is my way of trying to get over that mental block.  Let's see how it goes!

Day 1 of the month-long posting challenge.

The month-long challenge

So hear's the deal.  Starting tomorrow, I'm going to put up a post every day.  One for each day of June.  That's 30 posts in one month. 

Yes, this is a challenge, one I have set for myself.  Many thoughts flit about in my head each day, and a few of them reach the stage of "I've got to write about it." But then it goes nowhere.  This month, every time a thought fructifies enough to make me want to write about it, I will write about it.  It is going to be hard work, because writing is more of rewriting and editing than anything else.  And this will require a daily commitment from me.  And that is my intention.   

So I hope you'll go with me on this journey, and cheer for me, perhaps? 

Traditional games

Ok, seriously - I have a blog-block.  I come to the laptop all fired up to write a post - and immediately, everything fizzles out.  I'm not having any trouble writing otherwise.  Just the blog.  I've got to work it out, have to think of something.

Why I mention this is that I actually intended to write about my experiences with traditional games, while mentioning my article on reviving traditional games that appeared in this Saturday's DH Living.   But now, all I feel like doing is leaving you with the link.  Sigh.

Anyway, do read it - I enjoyed researching and writing about it.  The layout in the newspaper was good too - colourful, with lots of pictures.  If you get a chance, do read it in the paper, because the formatting in this online version is not too good - the paragraphs run into each other.  Anyway, let me stop rambling and give you the link.  Here it is - Reviving good old fun.

Some more published work.

Dropped by to tell you that I have been updating my Published Work page with all my, well, published work.

Here is a line or two about the latest - 

I've always been keen to know how to praise right.  So much of the praise we give children seems overexcited and unnecessary and repetitive.  Thanks to a lot of reading with the help of resources sent to me by friends, over the years, I've discovered that praising the effort, and not the result - is very important.  A small article to that effect is here -  Praise the effort - Deccan Herald Living, Mar 9, 2013.

The last of my series for City and Neighbourhood for The Hindu - An easy ride at your fingertips - Mar 21, 2013

After one last, here is a first - the first time an editor commissioned an article to me himself, including the topic, and the brief.  Here is the result - about neighbours and neighbourhoods  - There are humans next door, you know - DH Living, Deccan Herald, April 27, 2013 

And then, an article for Women's Web about cover letters - How to write a cover letter for a job - Women's Web, May 7, 2013.

Prisoner to books

In all my years of reading, which amounts to thousands of books, I've never abandoned a book midway.  Okay, maybe a couple of them over the years, but that was because I didn't understand them.

But why don't I feel like leaving a book midway?  I don't know.  Firstly, very few books have made me want to toss them aside, and so, perhaps my faith in the readability of books makes me want to persevere.   And then, usually, books that made me want to give up were often those that were called "classics" or "must-read" or they were the latest bestsellers and I forced them upon myself because I thought I "ought" to read them.  Also, I feel a kind of compulsion to get through to the end of any book.  A responsibility towards the book.  As if to redeem my perseverance and faith in it, many times, the book has picked up later and proved its worth to me.  But there have also been times when I have plodded through the book, tearing my hair out, and gouging my own skin with boredom and irritation, but yet, not abandoning the book.

And so, it came as a surprise to me when about four months ago, I just stopped reading a book that did nothing for me, looked at it once, and then set it aside.

I waited for a couple of days.  I kept looking at the book from time to time, from all angles.  I couldn't believe I didn't feel the compulsion to finish it.  I waited, and waited.

And I did not finish the book.

It was a kind of liberation, literally.  Because, in the four months after that, I have set aside nearly 8 books without finishing them.  That doesn't mean I have stopped enjoying books altogether.  In the same four months, I have read and loved a dozen books.  But the compulsion to finish a book I have started - that has disappeared.

I don't know what it is.  Some kind of wisdom? (High time, I would say)   A new attitude towards reading and books?  The realization that there is too much to do and too less time to do it in?

But you know, I think I'd made myself a prisoner to books until now.  And now I feel free.

New phase!

The summer vacations are here again, and so far, ever since Puttachi has been born, it has been the easiest time for me with Puttachi at home.

For one, she increasingly spends time alone, without needing me to sit by her.  She could be reading a book, or play-acting, or just playing with water, but she's lost in her own world for extended periods of time.  She does come to me from time to time with queries and stories, but still, it is not the incessant bombardment of before.   Next, there are many more things we can do together, and since most of those things don't require as much patience and forbearance from me as they did before, it doesn't drain me that much.  Plus, she does most of her own work herself  - dressing, brushing, bathing, washing, eating, getting herself a drink of water - so all the endless, repetitive, mind-numbing work of early childhood is also past us now.  So a major chunk of time has been made available for me.

Besides, the open kitchen I told you about has helped make cooking more enjoyable, and cleaning more tolerable, with Puttachi sitting at the table talking to me, or me telling her stories.  So that also doesn't really seem like a huge load of work.

In fact, she has turned out to be quite the mother hen herself.  If she sees me tired, she brings me a glass of water, or advises me to take a nap, and if that she will be by herself for a while.  If there is coffee decoction available, she falls over herself to make me a cup of coffee (with help of course.)

If I don't feel like taking her to the park, she goes by herself, since at this apartment complex, we have a good garden, and a safe park to play in, where I am comfortable leaving her though I can't see the park from my house.

And so, today, when she is off spending the day in her classmate's house, I was happy to have a few full hours all to myself to get some work and reading and cleaning done.  But now, I am actually missing having her around.  Hmmm.  New-phase-of-life alert!

Why the sky is blue

My blogpost was adjudged one of the three best in the Tulika Books Science Day Blogfest.  As a prize, I received (with a handwritten note by the editor) a copy of the book Why the Sky is Blue by Chandralekha and Dashrath Patel.

The book is an extract from Sir CV Raman's lecture in Dec 1968 in Ahmedabad, where he speaks about science, nature, the wonders of the world around us and the never-ending questions that arise from learning more and more about it. When Raman was speaking, Dashrath Patel clicked photographs, and later, Chandralekha wrote the text down.  The beautiful black-and-white photographs, every one of them frame-worthy, are very evocative, and portray the great man in different moods - involved, excited, and passionate.

Puttachi needed explanations (the book is for Age 8+), but she understood and appreciated the simple truths in the book. CV Raman is urging his listeners to probe deeper, keep their eyes open, and ask more questions.

"The best way to answer questions is to ask another one,"  he says, which Puttachi was very pleased with.

"Even at the age of 80, I am wondering about things I don't understand," he says another time, and again, Puttachi was awestruck by that.  She stayed silent for a long time thinking about that.

"Science never stops.  It goes on and on.  The more you find, the more you have left to find," he says.  "An endless quest," he calls it.   I could go on quoting from the book!

The book also has a very crisp Timeline of CV Raman's life, and some interesting Snapshots of his life that throw light on his character.  There is also a simple explanation of The Raman Effect.

Meanwhile, the book's explanation of why the sky is blue wasn't simple enough for Puttachi.   She wanted to know more  -  I had to dig deeper and explain to her in simple words so that she'd follow.  But then I used some terms which she didn't understand. So I had to describe those to her.  After that, she had some more questions about colours..... and voila!  We found ourselves doing the very thing that CV Raman urged us to do!

Praising the effort, and not the result.

A piece I wrote on Praising the effort of children, and not their result - was published in Deccan Herald Living. 

I would love to hear your thoughts on this.

Malleshwaram

I lived in Malleshwaram for nearly 20 years, and have fond memories of growing up and going to school there.  But in the last few years, after my parents also moved out from there, I haven't visited it much.

But with my work with The Hindu, I covered two places in Malleshwaram for two consecutive issues.   The first was Gupta Circulating Library, a 60-year old institution that is still going strong.  The second was Nightingale's Elders Enrichment Centre.  I had a marvellous time here, interacting with the members.  They made me laugh until my cheeks ached.  The visit really opened up many avenues of thought for me.... and it really struck me that every neighbourhood in every town needs a place like this where elders can meet on a regular basis and stay happy and active.  People in smaller villages and communities naturally have a setup like this, but in the cities, with increasing isolation and insularity, and growing distances and traffic, elders are finding it more and more difficult to get together with like-minded people and just enjoy themselves.

The joy of walking

One of the nicest things about our new place is its proximity to Puttachi's school.  Though I drive her to school (as of now), I bring her back walking.

The lovely thing about coming back walking with her is that I hear all her school news, hot off the press.  We are lucky to have a quiet, tree-lined road part of the way, and as we walk, Puttachi swings her bag, and skips along, ponytails bouncing, and she chatters away.  Contrast this with driving back - my eyes are on the road, she is in the back seat, and I am only half-listening to what she says.. and since she also doesn't get the eye-contact and reactions she needs, she becomes quiet too (relatively.)

It is just a kilometre's walk, but it surprises me that everybody who hears that I bring her back walking says, "Isn't she tired after school?" and "Can she walk that distance?"   She is as tired as an active kid is after school, but this leisurely, short walk doesn't make her more tired.  Of course, there are days when she doesn't feel too good, or she has fallen down at school and complains of aches, but I always carry enough money for an autorickshaw in case she cannot walk at all.  But more often than not, once she starts talking (and walking), she makes it home pretty easily.  The second question - seriously?  1 km?  It is nothing.  The very people who are surprised that she walks that distance would have walked many times that distance when they were Puttachi's age. I think the adults of today underestimate our children.  We presume weakness in them.

Walking is such a dying art - very few people walk to a friend's house, to a shop, or to the barber.  Distances, traffic and smoke, creepily lonely roads and uneven footpaths are all culprits.  As a result, even when the conditions are conducive to walking, people don't even remember that they can include walking among their options.

Walking is such joy - the freedom to go where you want to, the luxury not to have to park your vehicle anywhere, the feeling of being part of the landscape, the space you get to think when you are alone, or the opportunity to have good conversations when you are with company.....

I come from a family of great walkers, and I am married to an extreme walker, if there is any such phrase, and I  think Puttachi has already been inculcated in this "art" - I hope that the future gives her the space and the opportunity to continue to experience the pleasure of walking.

Mothering Today - Changes and Challenges.

Written for the Indusladies.com 4th Annual International  Women's Day Contest.

A mother.  Oh, that glorified being! She's called an angel, a goddess, the paragon of love – but being a mother is hard. Yes, I am speaking of this section of urban middle-class mothers, who have it much better than their rural counterparts, who, in many cases, are still trying to keep their children alive. We, in contrast, can afford to keep our children well-fed, healthy and comfortable, and we cannot compare our problems with them, and we will not.

Our issues are different, and unique to this generation.

The last couple of decades have seen an explosion of information, and this information overload has been both a boon and a curse to today's mother.  That has been the biggest change, and it is, I think, the greatest challenge she faces.

I'll split it into three parts.

Awareness and choice. The mother of today is so much more aware of the world around her and the choices available to her, that she is.... confused. There are choices to be made in everything. Health (Conventional medicine? Alternative medicine?) Schooling. (Mainstream schools? Alternative schools? A mix of both?) Food. (Organic? Supplements? Health Drinks?) Parenting styles (Attachment? Helicopter? Permissive? Authoritative?) Lifestyle (Modern? Traditional? A mix?) Work. (Work out of home? Work from home? Work partly from home? Stay at home? Stay at home and work once a week?) Childcare. (Nanny? Daycare? Full-time maid? Part-time maid? Grandparents?) You name it, and she has multiple choices. Which is a good thing, but only if she is clear about what she wants. If she is not, then making a choice is very difficult. Yes, there is enough material about the pros and cons of every choice available to her. And it can help her make up her mind – or become more confused.

And this is just one aspect. Remember, her child is also exposed to the same kind of information overload, and is more aware of the world around her than children of yesterday. And we all know that today's child has a mind of her own – and is not afraid to speak it. So, when you pit these two individuals against each other, the possibilities of conflict are endless.

One more negative aspect of too much information - not only are you informed of the positive things happening out there, you know as much about all that is going wrong in the world. Ask any mother and she will tell you that after she had a child, the violence and perversion of the world scares her much more than it did before. At every point, she is aware that she is sending her child out into a world that is probably very unsafe – and that is something that mothers of yesterday didn't have to contend with to this extent.

The shrinking world. Earlier, a mother just compared herself to her neighbour. Now, she compares notes with a blogger half way around the globe, who isn't even aware of her existence, and feels miserably inadequate. And then there is Facebook, where people put up pictures of themselves and their perfectly turned-out children going on exotic vacations and posing for photographs in beautifully decorated living rooms, and then this mother sees these pictures right after snapping at Kid 1 while cleaning up the sheets over which Kid 2 just threw up, and she feels like the worst mother in the world.

Earlier, a mother was bombarded with advice only from her mother-in-law and the neighbourhood nosy parker. But now, she is flooded with suggestions, often contradictory, from people of all nationalities all across the globe (and they all cite the best sources.) Come to think of it, it is a terrible state for a mother to be in.

The "Me" Factor. The majority of mothers earlier just gave up their own lives after marriage and kids, and lived "for the family." Today's mother is an educated, aware (that word again) and confident person who knows what she wants in her life. She loves her kids, make no mistake, but is not ready to let her own dreams go down the drain. She isn't happy being "Chintu's mother." She wants her own identity.

And this is one of the most beautiful things about today's mother. That she knows that she deserves her own place under the sun, and that she is ready to work for it. But it is also very hard. Because immediately,  that tired phrase pops up – "work-life balance." How much work and how much life is the right balance for her? (And why is work not life? And why isn't this used as much for men? But we won't go there.) Can she really not have it all? And the moment she chooses one over the other, out comes the Guilt. Yes, with a Capital G.

When you think of it, parenting is all about Balance. How much of work, and how much of being with the child? Balance. How much of mollycoddling and how much of discipline? Balance. Too much freedom, and the child will go wild. Too strict and the child will rebel. What to do? Balance.

And the thing is – this Balance? It is different for each person. It varies with the mother's lifestyle and life choices, and setting. And nobody can tell her what she "must" do. Because there is nothing like "must." This is what every mother of today needs to know. And she has to throw out the Guilt. Because she is doing the best she can. She is processing information and she is making the choices she believes is the best. Yes, she goes wrong often, but then that's how she learns. Contrary to popular opinion, mothers are not goddesses, nor angels, nor saints. Mothers are people with opinions and dreams, fears and failings – and we are learning every day.

But there is one thing. In spite of all our shortcomings, all the wavering and confusion, all the snapping and impatience, we love our children to bits.

And that, my friends, is neither a challenge, nor will it ever change.

Edited to add:  In my rush to write this, I overlooked the basic condition that the post has to be less than 500 words to qualify for the contest. :) Anyway, I had fun writing this.

Science and young minds.

The beautiful thing about getting children interested in science is that one doesn't even have to try.  All you have to do is introduce a tiny seed of wonder in an already inquisitive mind, and the child will take it and run with it.  The key element is that you have to seize the opportune moment when the child is open to receiving ideas.

Last year, during spring, Puttachi and I took many walks in the park, and my curiosity about trees rubbed off on her.  Soon, she was picking up any leaf or flower or fruit on the road and trying to identify it.  When she found a flying seed, I told her about seed dispersal, and she spent an entire evening looking for other seeds like that.  Though we haven't spoken much about tree identification for a year, when she saw the green bursting forth around her this spring, she brought up the subject herself, saying, "Spring is here!  Let's look out for the flowers!"  And now I know that this love and curiosity about the trees around her is going to stay with her.

Similarly, we built a 3D puzzle of a dinosaur skeleton, and that triggered off an interesting conversation that I have blogged about before.  And then there was one day when we spent an entire hour watching a group of monkeys from the window.  I pointed out the alpha male to her, and told her all I knew about monkey behaviour as and when it happened.  And she still remembers it, and brings up these concepts during conversations about other animals too, asking which the alpha male is.   Or she tells me about something she saw in a nature book months ago at her grandparents' house, and about which one of the grandparents talked to her.  Sometimes it stuns me when she remembers clearly, conversations that happened even two years ago.

The common element in all these conversations is that when she showed interest and curiosity, I made sure I immediately gave her whatever it was that she wanted.  If I had waited until a more comfortable time, she would have been engrossed in something else, and might not have been as receptive.

That is why, just last week, when I was arm-deep in cooking, and the kitchen platform was a mess, Puttachi insisted that she simple had to try out the jaltarang by herself.  "Later," I said, looking at the messy counter, but then, I shrugged.  So what if there is chapati flour on the counter?  I just set out the glasses and gave her water and a spoon, and she stood right there, and spent an hour experimenting with sounds and different levels of water.  Right after this, she wanted to try out what sinks and what doesn't in water, and I gave her various objects to try.  Then I demonstrated how a needle sinks in water, but when placed on a paper which is placed on water, the paper gets wet and sinks, and the needle stays afloat.   She was so fascinated that she spent another hour with it, and when she tired of it, she played with all the mushy paper that resulted from the experiment, and that set off a discussion on paper making.....

You get the idea.  there is never "one right time" to teach a child something.  But you really have to be ready to give the child what she needs at that moment.

And offhand conversations can have such a deep impact.  Years ago, when I was studying Energy Engineering, my then 5-year-old cousin and I had had a conversation about the subjects I study. I don't even remember this conversation too well, but a few days later, my aunt was surprised to see a drawing he had made.  He had drawn a volcano, with lava flowing out of it.  He had drawn a wire, one end of which was connected to the lava, and the other end to a glowing bulb.  My aunt asked him where he got the idea, and he told her that Shruthi Akka told him.  My guess is that this was his interpretation of what I told him about geothermal energy!

It is very exciting, actually.  To see sharp minds understand concepts far beyond what we think is possible for their age - just by one conversation, one activity, one book.  The potentials are endless.

(Written for Tulika Books' Science Blogfest for National Science Day)

Updated to add: This blog was judged one of the three best entries in the contest.  Will get a book as prize! :)

Freelancing with The Hindu

I've started freelancing with the City and Neighbourhood section of The Hindu.  My first article appeared last Thursday, on a North Karnataka-style home restaurant.  

The online version doesn't have a picture, and some people expressed a wish to see what it looked like, so here is a pic of the paper - the photograph was taken by the staff photographer. 

It was truly interesting to go as an interviewer and talk to the owners, the customers - and to sift through the information overload, and put it all down in 400-500 words.  The delight of people who have been told they will be featured in a newspaper is so wonderful.  And they transferred that joy to me - They forced me to have a meal there, and didn't accept money for it.  And after the paper came out, the proprietor called me again and thanked me profusely (even though I was just the messenger - I had been asked to write about this place, I didn't select it myself.)  The whole experience was fun!

When your child wants you to behave silly in public.

Like many children, Puttachi is not very self-conscious.  If it pleases her, she'll break into a jig in the middle of the road, or behave silly in public.  Which is a joy to watch, of course.

But the problem arises when she expects me to join her.  "Come on, Amma," she says in the park.  "Let's dance.  I'll sing, and both of us will dance."

The thing is, if it were at home, I would have joined her immediately.  Now, out here, with people watching, I don't want to.

"No, Puttachu," I say, squirming as she takes my arms and starts swinging them around.

"Oh, come onnnn Amma!" she says, and then the inevitable question.  "Why not?"

"People are watching," I say.  "I'll dance at home."

"So what, I am dancing too, and people are watching me."

"But you're a kid."

"So should I stop dancing in the park when I grow up?"

Now what on earth do I say to this?  I've already made the mistake of saying "People are watching," and conveyed to her that she should care what people think of her.

"That's your wish, Puttachi," I say, finally.  "If you feel like dancing in the park when you grow up, you can.  I don't feel too comfortable, so I won't."

Ugh, I tell myself.  Whatever happened to teaching by example?  If I am so self-conscious, won't that attitude rub off on her?  Or is that a good thing?  How would I view an adult dancing in public for no apparent reason at all?

Ok, forget dancing.  What about behaving silly in general?  For example, if I'm telling her a story while walking on the road or in the park, I sometimes make exaggerated expressions and expansive gestures with my hands.  Another person might not be comfortable with that, and indeed, I have received strange looks sometimes.  But I haven't minded.  But that is my limit.  Dancing on the road - no, I wouldn't do that.  But another parent might not mind that too.  But in the end, what message should you convey to your child?

But for the moment, Puttachi is satisfied by my answer.  "Okay.  All people are different, right?  No problem, we'll dance at home," she says, ever the understanding child.

But I still am not sure how to handle this.  Any ideas?

Losing their way...

I attended an Indian classical music concert after ages.  An all-night one at that (and we lasted the night.)

The concert boasted of big names, and there were some pleasant surprises, but on the whole, I was very disappointed and depressed after the concert.

Many of these artistes, in an effort to display their expertise in music, indulged in what I can only call musical acrobatics.  As a result, the melody and the quality of music was compromised.  At the end, it was more of noise and cacophony than anything else.

I have a similar grouse against literary writers.  They are so eager to show what great command they have over the language that they use flowery writing and grandiose words and the result is that it distracts one from the flow of the story.  While I am reading a book, if I stop to think, "Wow, how did he think up such a  turn of phrase?"  or worse, "Just a sec, what exactly did she mean to say with that complicated combination of words?" - then that book is a failure to me.  There are many writers out there who insert brilliant phrases and descriptions without breaking the flow of the story, or without making you stop to wonder what that was all about.  Oh yes, some writers do make me stop and catch my breath sometimes, but only to say, "How beautifully she said that! I totally understand and relate to that."  That - That is what makes a book a success.  Blend your cleverness into the story.

I recently came across some discussions of some latest movies too - someone said that the technology and the computer graphics is the star of the movie, and it doesn't have much going for it in terms of a story.

Why are we losing sight of the main intention?  When did the tools that was supposed to be just aiding you, become more important than what you set out to do in the first place?