Bega-bega!

This link - The day I stopped Saying "Hurry up"  reminded me of myself. I have spoken about this before, that I sometimes feel like a monster who can only say the words "Bega Bega Bega!"  (Quick!)  I sometimes joke to Puttachi that the word I say most often in a day is "Bega."

I wrote that two years ago, and things haven't really changed much.  Puttachi is still a dreamer.  And I still have to hurry her.  When I am hopping and looking at the time and fretting that it is getting late for school, Puttachi still wants to instruct her eldest doll daughter (in doll language, mind it!) to look after her younger doll daughters.   When I am tearing my hair out that she will get late for badminton class, she still wants to dance and watch her shadows move.  When I am hounding her to go to bed and close her eyes bega bega, she still wants to fluff her pillow up and smoothen the covers until they are perfect, and smile at some memory and..... hug me until my ribs ache.

I detest myself whenever I say bega bega but sometimes there is no go.  That's why I haven't put her in any summer camp during vacations until now.  No way did I want to say bega bega to her even during vacations.

But I wanted to try and see what would happen if I didn't hurry her.  A couple of weeks ago, she came back from school, took off her shoes and as usual, entered her dreamworld.   I didn't say anything to her - didn't ask her to go wash up, or change, or anything.  I just continued with my work. I talked to her if she talked to me, but I didn't bother her at all.  An entire hour passed, and Puttachi went on playing whatever she wanted to play, where a scrap of paper became somebody's food, and where a seed was a precious stone....

And then, suddenly, she realized she was very hungry.  And that led her to the realization that she still had to change and wash.  And that made her angry, and, her bad temper got compounded by hunger, and she threw a very rare tantrum.  Finally, I had to calm her down, help her change, and give her food.  That was when I comforted myself with - relax.  Sometimes you just cannot help it.

Things that help me deal with a dreamy child:

1) A structure and a schedule helps her. I guess when her brain is too full of important things like making paper-pulao for her dolls, mundane things like changing, and washing aren't important.  So we decided on a schedule/time table - we call it Step 1, Step 2, Step 3 - which makes her focus and do every task one by one until she is done with all the boring stuff, following which she can drift away to her dreamland again.

2) Sometimes I set an alarm and challenge her to finish all the necessary but boring work before the alarm rings.  She enjoys this race against the alarm.  But not all the time.

3) At times, I have to lure her with a story to get her work done quickly.

4) If nothing else works, I join her in fantasy-land 

What works for you?

Published in eFiction India

My story "The Star" has been published in the August issue of eFiction India.

Beauty parlour epiphany

Going to the beauty parlour is high on my list of most-hated activities.  I keep putting it off for as long as I can, and finally, I call the parlour and quickly make an appointment before I change my mind.  Since I'm wired to honour appointments, I know I'll stop conjuring up reasons not to go, and I'll go.   

The major reason I don't like parlours is that no matter which parlour I go to, they all treat me as fair game to heap me with advice.  Firstly, I am that specimen who doesn't straighten my hair (horrors!) nor colour my hair (double horrors!)  Besides, I apparently have a face that is a great example for the "before" in a "seven signs of aging" cream commercial and I get a whole lot of advice on what I need to do to my face to become presentable, and that usually includes the most expensive facial available at their parlour.  They put me in front of the mirror and map out my face, telling me what is wrong with what part, and all I can see wrong with my face is the frown of anger and annoyance.

Anyway, to avoid getting commented upon, I had started taking special pains to appear my best before going to a parlour.  Know that old joke about the woman who frantically straightened out her home before the cleaning-lady came in, saying, "I can't let her see my house like this?"  I'm like that when it comes to parlours.  I take more efforts to make myself "presentable" to go to a parlour than to go to a party. At a party, nobody comments on my looks directly!

And yes, I knew I was being silly, but I couldn't get myself to stop being affected.  And since I don't like to slather myself with chemicals that will keep my hair and face conforming to the prevalent standards of beauty, and since I am too lazy to research and sustain the use of natural products that are supposed to do the same, it is a kind of status quo for me. 

And then, yesterday, something happened.  I was at the parlour (a new one, because the lady in the old one commented a little too much about my looks) and this girl who was attending to me said the same things - the usual litany of how terrible my face and hair is and what I should do about it.  But - it was perhaps the way she said it, or maybe it was just time for an epiphany - I didn't get angry.  I just stood back and thought, "Shruthi, she's just doing her job."  Just like I cannot bear looking at a badly-written book or a poorly-crafted resume without an urge to edit it.  Just like an architect might look at an ugly building and think, "Oh I would have done it another way."  Just like a tailor sees a dress that doesn't fit well and feels the urge to set it right.  Just like that, this poor girl feels the need to turn my face and hair into that category which current societal standards calls beautiful.  It is not her fault at all.  She has been conditioned by society about what beauty is.  She is just doing her job. 

And then, I relaxed.  I smiled and nodded at everything she told me, and said, "No thanks" to the most expensive facial and hair spa available at their parlour, and asked her to get on with whatever I had gone there to get done in the first place. 

I feel liberated! :)

Kids and Maids - 2

I have written before about why I am uncomfortable with children being left entirely in the care of maids.  Once again, I reiterate that I know that many people don't have a choice, but yet, I have to stress that leaving kids with maids calls for far more monitoring than is currently done, from what I see.

Here's another incident. Puttachi's friend K was visiting, and both of them went to the park to play.  There, a child X, of the same age as Puttachi's came out to play, accompanied by her maid.  Puttachi and K were on the swings, and the child apparently wanted to play on the swing too, and there are only two swings..

So the maid came over to Puttachi and said, "Your father is calling, Go go."   Puttachi, with her newfound street-smartness, said, "No, I can't hear anybody, I won't go."  But K got up and said, "Let me go and look."  The moment K got up, the maid caught hold of the empty swing, and the other child came running and sat on it, and both of them laughed and laughed at K.

K felt sad, and Puttachi felt sorry for K.  So she also got off her swing, and they went to play the seesaw.  No sooner did they sit on the seesaw than X said she wanted the seesaw.  So the maid  came over again, and said, "Really Puttachi, your father is calling."  Puttachi refused to believe her, but K again said she would go and see if it was true.  Puttachi asked her not to go, but K got off.  Sure enough, the maid came running, caught the other end of the seesaw and tried to get X to sit on that end.  But Puttachi was angry, and she sat down hard so that the other end of the seesaw was up in the air and wouldn't come down low enough for X to sit on.  Meanwhile, K came back, confirming that indeed, nobody was calling for Puttachi.

So this maid lied to and cheated another child to get X to play whatever she wanted.  So what is X learning?  I have already noticed a sense of entitlement in that child.  Added to it, she is being told that cheating to get your way is okay.

Puttachi told me, "Can you believe that that aunty did this, Amma?  When  you want something, you have to ask politely. I would have given her my swing in a while if she had asked me.  Instead of that she lied to us."

I'm troubled by this.

Tiger mother, Mouse mother

A couple of years ago, this article made big waves on the parenting scene. - Why Chinese Mothers are Superior.  The piece is an extract from the book "Battle Hymn of the Tiger Mother" by Amy Chua.  All of a sudden, everybody was talking about it, there were reams written about the horrendous parenting style of this lady and people were wondering how her children are even normal.

I read all the opinions.  Buried amidst all the negativity was a review which suggested that this one article is not all that the book is about.  That made me want to read more, and finally, last week, I read the book.

Amy Chua is a second generation immigrant from China, living  in the US, married to an American, and raising two daughters in the Chinese style of parenting.  First thing I learned - this book is not about parenting.  It is just the story of a mother trying to bring up her daughters with the parenting style that she herself grew up with.   Second, unlike the provoking title of the excerpt - "Why Chinese mothers are superior" - nowhere in the book has the author said that Chinese parenting is superior. She has frequently brought out contrasts between Chinese and Western parenting, but that's it.   Third - and most important - she has been very honest about how this style of parenting worked with the first daughter and backfired with the second one.  In fact, this book is about the mellowing of Amy Chua's parenting style.

So, the title of the excerpt on WSJ, combined with what the excerpt was about - made  Amy Chua very unpopular indeed (And I'm pretty sure it didn't hurt the book's sales!)

I am not going to endorse the Chinese way of parenting, because I don't agree with that kind of authoritarian parenting.   It strives on pushing the child to achieve its highest potential, trying to bring the best out of the child,and going all out for it, even if it involves strict discipline and unquestioned authority and rote learning. But I could totally understand that kind of parenting, and the Chinese belief that children owe them everything, and demanding unconditional filial love and devotion.  That's very Indian in nature, so I could "get" it, but was still able to view it dispassionately.  I can understand why Westerners, on the other hand, find it horrifying.

But what the book did for me was make me think.  Sometimes about things totally tangential to the main topic.

1) The author says that western parenting assume fragility, while Chinese parenting assumes strength in the child.  This is something that really made me reconsider my approach to several things in connection with how I bring up Puttachi.  S, that way, is tougher with  her than I am - he assumes strength, I assume fragility.  (Less than some others do, but still.)  Perhaps believing that your child can do something (but not pushing, just aiding) can actually give the child confidence, enable her to actually do it?  I'm sure, yes.

2) Amy Chua believes that you will have fun at something if you are good at it.  So, until you become good at that thing, she says, you have to work really hard until you reach that level where you start having fun.  This is why, she says, she pushed her children to practice music for hours everyday, whether they wanted to or not. [They are terrifying overachievers, btw]  How do you know you will like it unless you try and stay with it until you are moderately good at it?  That Is her line of thinking.    That extreme pushing, of course, I don't agree with, but this concept of - you have fun when you are good at it - and you've got to stick with it for a while before you quit - it is something to think about. And maybe apply in our lives. How, where - yet to be seen.

3) For her daughters' music, Amy Chua went all out.  Making them learn from the best teachers, pouring money and time and effort into it, commuting long distances if need be, even taking along the instruments on vacation (and booking hotels with pianos so that the daily practice doesn't cease)- and practicing during vacations even if it meant not being able to see the sights,  practicing into the nights, again and again and again, until every note is perfect....
This kind of dedication is something totally alien to me.  If I want something, I stretch a bit - and if I don't get it, I give up.  This is totally, absolutely wrong.  I know it, and people had told me all along that what I do is wrong, but reading this book somehow gave me the wake up call.  Again, not to the extent as in the book - that is extreme.  But to a certain extent, such dedication is a must if it is something you believe in and want to get better at.  S has this ability to stretch and then stretch more and keep stretching - and he makes me do it also sometimes, which annoys me because that is not my nature.  But for anybody to become even remotely good at something, this is necessary.  And now that is something I just ought to incorporate into my life. I have suddenly started worrying that I am passing on this laid back attitude to my daughter.  I hope she has S's nature, but meanwhile, it is time for me to wake up and brush the dust off myself.

Anyway, everything else aside, the book was a witty, funny, honest, sometimes scary account of life in Amy Chua's houehold.  It was an enjoyable read.  [Btw, here is her response to the comments on that original excerpt ]

Deep?

Puttachi had forgotten to take her English workbook to school one day, and so the teacher asked her to complete her work at home.  This was English composition, and one of the questions was, "My best friend is _____"  She filled it up -  "X and Y." (Names changed. Obviously.)
The next question was, "My friends like me because ________"

She:  Amma, I don't understand this.
Me: Ok, let me see... why do you think your friends like you?
She: I don't know.
Me: Think.  What is it about you that makes your friends like you and want to play with you?
She: I don't know... (totally confused.)
Me: Ok, let's think about it this way.  Why do you like your friends?  Why do you like X and Y?
She: I like them because they are my friends. (her tone was as if it was a very obvious thing.)

I laughed.  But then I stopped.  Could this be one of the secrets of a good relationship? Unconditional love and affection? Not liking someone for their qualities, but just because?  I'm sure there's something very deep in here, but I'm not able to put my finger on it.  See if you can help.

Change of plans

Remember how Puttachi wanted to be a doctor, teacher and a mother all rolled into one when she grew up? She had stuck to this "decision" for the longest time.  Things have suddenly changed.

In her words, "Amma, that plan got cancelled.  Now I want to grow up and become a scientist and bring the woolly mammoth back to life."

In another anthology

One of my stories found a home in the Pageturners' "Across the Ages" anthology.   It will be published soon.

Funny thing is that as of now, two of my stories have made it into anthologies (previous one) - and both are about a female senior citizen in a park! (Not the same one, though!)   But the two stories couldn't be more unlike each other :)

Puttachi stuff.

Puttachi was asked by her English teacher to write a few lines about her mother. Mother's name, what she likes to do, what she does for Puttachi, and what Puttachi does for her.  This was what she wrote. 

Oh yes I melted!

On our way to school, we pass a beautiful Indian Almond Tree (Badami kayi mara)   It had very long branches, and it covered the entire road.  We had seen its broad, lovely leaves turn a striking red, fall off and cover the ground with a thick carpet.  We saw the new green leaves sprout.  And now, the foliage had thickened, and the shade under the tree was particularly inviting. 

Just yesterday, on the way back, Puttachi had declared that it was her most favourite tree in the world, and that she would like to spread a mattress underneath it and go to sleep.

So, this morning, on our way to school, it was a shock for us to see that one of the tree's branches had snapped and fallen off, crushing a car underneath it, and blocking the whole road. And more importantly, for Puttachi, the sky was visible where there had been a canopy.  Horrors.  The dam burst and her tears flowed.  "The tree is not dead, Puttachi, the branches were probably too heavy for the tree, that's all," I said, but she wouldn't listen.  "My tree, my tree's shade!"  she cried, and she went to school with a tear-stained face.  Sigh!

Day 30 - Many things made me feel good today

I woke up to one of my travel stories published in Sunday Herald - about a lovely walk along the Thames in Henley, England.

In other news, my mother told me that while S and I had been at the movie last evening, she showed Puttachi some of my sketches and paintings and Puttachi was apparently completely floored.  "Show me too," I said.  "I've completely forgotten what I'd made."

So my mother took out all the sketchbooks and painting books that she has so carefully hidden away, and showed them to me.  One of them in particular struck me speechless.  Literally.  Haven't had that happen to me in a while.  

See, this sketch is not perfect, I know.  I'm sure an expert will point out a hundred technical mistakes in it. Even to my own untrained eyes, I can see that it is not very symmetrical, and it does not have a good 3D effect.  But good enough for someone with no prior experience of sketching.    But what I could not, and still cannot believe that there was indeed a time when I had the patience to sit with a sketch and concentrate on doing justice to all the tiny details. 

After my speech came back to me, I said, "How jobless I must have been to make this!"  I checked the date - and sure enough, I found that I was indeed jobless at that time.  It was when I had torn a ligament and was on rest for 6 weeks.  And apart from doodling, I haven't made a single serious sketch after this one.

And in case you are wondering, this is the Channakeshava temple at Somanathpura, one of the most beautiful examples of Hoysala architecture, and my personal favourite carved wonder - small, and exquisite.

And with this post, I successfully finished my one-post-a-day effort for June!

Day 29 - Outrageous prices

Saturdays are always difficult in terms of writing.  Something is always happening, and there isn't much time to sit down and think of something to write about.

Besides, I've spent all my available time enjoying the music and the amazing liveliness of this random video

We had been to watch Man of Steel today, and before that, we were loitering around the mall, and I played a little game I play with myself when I am jobless - check out an outfit, guess how much it is priced, and then check the actual price.  Today, I found a cotton frock in Puttachi's size.  It was well-tailored, good cloth, and I thought ok, considering the label, about 1000 bucks.  I checked and it was nearly 5000 rupees.  5000 for a frock.  The last time I was so surprised was when I lost my way and found myself in an upmarket store in UB city.  I picked up a handbag and said, "4500 for this?  I can get it for 450 in 4th block!"  And S said, "Check the price again."  I checked, and it was 45000.  I fell over backwards.  (Not exactly, but I did crash into the nearly invisible glass door on my way out.)

People who actually pay money for these things - even if they can afford it, why would they?  Are brands really that important to them?  I feel really sorry for them, actually.

Day 28 - Spirit

People who know Puttachi well know that she is very cooperative, which has worked very well for me.  But there was one aspect of her cooperative nature which has worried me for a long time.  And it is this - she doesn't resist much to anything, doesn't put up too much of a fight.

Here is an example of a regular occurrence at the park, when she was younger.  She is about to climb the steps of the slide, and someone comes, and asks her to move aside.  She dutifully moves, lets the other child go before her, and then she climbs up.  Or worse, the other child pushes her, and she frowns, her face crumples, but she doesn't fight back.  If she is on the swing, and some other child aggressively asks her to get off the swing, she climbs down without another word.

And except when she was physically hurt, she didn't seem to be affected by it at all.  

And if I convinced her about something being good for her, she would accept immediately.  That also worried me - why doesn't she protest even a little bit?  Am I doing something wrong?   Here's something from an old post of mine - a conversation on the way to an ice-cream shop

Amma, I want pink ice-cream.

Okay.

Amma, will there be pink ice-cream?

          I don't know, let's go and see.

If there is pink ice-cream, I will feel happy and eat it up, but if there is no pink ice-cream, then I will see which ice-cream they have, and I will like it (ishTa maDkotini), and eat it up. 

Should I rejoice that this child knows the secret of happiness? Or should I worry that she is going to become too accommodating and compliant?

We had once been to someone's house, and the lady of the house gave her child and Puttachi some snacks in two bowls - one blue, one purple.

Puttachi: I want the purple one.
Other child: No, I want purple.

The lady gave her child the purple one and said, "See Puttachi, blue is also nice."

Puttachi said, "Yes, blue is also nice," and ate from the blue bowl.

The injustice really bothered me.  Now, there are two things here - one, Puttachi laid claim on the purple bowl first.  Second, the bowls are at the other child's disposal, and the child can eat in that bowl even later.  So if it were me in the lady's place, it would have been a no-brainer.  I would have convinced Puttachi that the other child had dibs, and that Puttachi could eat in the purple bowl even later.   In fact, such things did happen at our place, and Puttachi had compromised several times.  Now, because people know Puttachi's nature, they take advantage of it and she has to compromise even when she has first rights?  I was very upset.  But Puttachi didn't seem to be bothered.  Later on, I asked her casually if she had wanted to eat in the purple bowl, and she said, "Yes, I would have liked it, the purple was so beautiful, but blue was also okay."

Or could it just be a kind of maturity?

 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...

Or is it just that she avoids confrontation?

Whenever I worried, my friend M would tell me "Perhaps that is Puttachi's strength."  Yes, perhaps.

But come on, some kind of resistance? Tantrums? Anything?

I'm glad to report that she is finally showing that spirit that I had always wanted her to show.  On one hand, she is still accommodating, empathetic, understanding, and kind..  On the other hand, she has started recognizing injustice, and she reacts appropriately to it.  The other day, some kid shouted at her to get down from the swing, and she stood up, put her hands on her hips and said, "Ask nicely.  Even then, I will get down only after five minutes.  Wait for your turn."   Few things have pleased me more!   I realized that this is what I wanted, and this is what I was bothered about.  I did not want her to take things lying down, but stand up for herself.  Not to compromise.

I'll keep you updated on this  journey!

Day 27 - Everything comes back!

When we were kids, we used to tease our mother about her "colour sense."

Mother:  Shruthi, please bring the orange box from the fridge.
Me:  Where, where, can't see any orange box.
Mother: Right there, top shelf.
Me:  I just see a white box with a yellow lid.
Mother: Yeah that's the one.

And then Peevee and I would go into splits and tease our mother endlessly.

But then, last week,

Puttachi:  Amma where are my pink pyjamas?
Me:  Not washed.  Wear your blue ones.
Puttachi:  Blue?  I don't even have blue pyjamas.
Me: You do.  The one we bought at xyz.
Puttachi:  That's not blue!  That's dark grey!  Ha ha ha haaa!!  Why did you call it blue, Amma?

And I go - gulp.

I guess, during childhood, you want precision, you are particular about things - but after sometime, you are satisfied with a vague description of everything....  Has this happened with you too?

Similar things happen, not only with regard to colour.  I say something is in the left cupboard, and I would have meant, the left of the usually-used right cupboard, and I expect her to understand, while Puttachi searches in the left-most cupboard, and can't find it....  such things used to happen with us and our mother too!

But that's not all.  There was another thing my mom used to do (still does.)  She would be thinking of something, and then suddenly speak aloud about it, as a continuation of the thought process in her head - and all of us, who had absolutely no context, wouldn't understand head or tail of what she was saying.  "Huh?"  we would blink, and then she would realize and start from the beginning.  Oh how we have pulled her leg about this!

But, yeah, you guessed it.  From the past one month, this has happened with S and me.  And I am the one speaking without any context.  And S is the one left wondering.

What else did we tease our mother about?  What else is in store for me?  :)

Day 26 - Books from different cultures

I have spoken before about the connection I feel with books written in Kannada.  The culture, the language, the societal norms, the people - all are familiar, and strike a chord with me.  This holds good for books about India written by Indians too.  No matter which Indian state the story is based in, I can feel the book when I am reading it.

Though most of the books I have read are probably British and American, I find myself increasingly going back to Indian writing.  But lately, I have realized that books from a few other countries give me that connect  as well - maybe not to the extent that Indian writing does, but still.

Stories from Africa (Chimamanda Adichie, the Mma Ramotswe series), Afghanistan (Khaled Hosseini), and to a small extent, South America (Gabriel Garcia Marquez, Isabel Allende.) to name a few.  And of course, books based in Japan and China, though its been a while since I read those.  Though the culture of these places is very different from ours, the sentiment is the same, if you know what I mean.  I can see why a character reacts in a certain way.  I can sense the weight of history of the culture and country in the stories. I can see and understand why this history matters, and how it influences the behaviour of the characters.  And the more I read such books, the more I want to read.

Any inputs from  you?  Any recommendations?  (As if my to-read list is not long enough already!)

Day 25 - Power Naps

When Puttachi was little, my day was tough.  Everything that came with being a full-time carer of a little child, and along with it, managing a house with all the cooking and cleaning and other things that go with it.  By afternoon, I would be ready to drop.  It used to be okay when Puttachi had naps, for I would crash alongside her.  But she gave up naps very early, just after she turned three.

It was at this time that she started school, and driving her up and down, and squeezing in walks and chores and cooking and me-time in the available 2.5 hours when she was in school was tiring in itself.  So, after she came back and ate, she would start playing, and I would be on the verge of collapse.

It was then that I accidentally discovered the power nap.  There was no question of taking long  naps when Puttachi was awake and mobile.  So, I used to just lie down next to her on the bed when she was playing, and I would fall asleep.  Within minutes, Puttachi would shake me awake, and I would find myself so refreshed that it was unbelievable.  The refreshment definitely did not seem proportional to the time I actually slept.  After a few times, I decided to make the falling asleep intentional.  I set an alarm, and told Puttachi not to move from my side, and not to disturb me until the alarm rang.  Of course, I was (still am) fortunate that Puttachi did as she was told, and is very empathetic too, so it worked.  The alarm would be for 12 min, out of which I would actually sleep for 10 min, but that was enough to last me the rest of the day!

10 minutes - like an instant battery charger!  I still do this.  In fact, Puttachi herself sometimes looks at me and orders me to take a nap.  She even sets the alarm for me.  And sometimes, if I haven't been able to catch a nap, S can make that out by the way I walk and talk in the evening that I haven't had a nap!

I don't need the nap every day, and this kind of intense nap doesn't come easily if I lie down when I am not too tired.  I have to be really very tired - it is then that it works best.

If you haven't tried this, try and see if it works for you.   I'll accept your thanks later.

Day 24 - The joy of exercising your body

By no stretch of imagination can I be called a fitness enthusiast, but I try.  Apart from a healthy diet, I try and get in some exercise on most days.

Mostly, I walk.  Sometimes, I do yoga.  Occasionally, I just do some stretches.  I am nowhere near those who go gymming and running regularly, or swim or play a sport every day, but I try to keep up whatever little I do.  I intend to step up my exercise regimen, but... all in its own time.

But the beauty of it is that even this little bit of exercise does me good. I cannot make out that exercise has been helping me until I stop exercising for a while.  And then I can really make out the difference.

Regular exercise keeps me  in a good mood, more alert and interested in my day.  My digestion is better, I  suffer less from PMS, and on the whole, I feel better about myself and about life.  Isn't that reason enough to exercise regularly?

Small things make me feel good - when I run up three flights of stairs and don't collapse with exhaustion, for instance.  Or when I'm walking along the road, and I don't have to literally heave myself up on too-high footpaths, but instead cruise along - feels great.  And then during the actual exercising itself - yoga, for instance - the stretches feel so good.  Anybody who has experienced the pleasure of a yoga stretch will know what I mean.

It isn't easy for everybody, but do try.to fit a little exercise into your day.  That small investment will prove its worth by making your day better and easier for you.

Stay tuned for tomorrow, where I will pontificate on power naps.

Day 23 - Imli Chutney

Strange, huh?  A food post, all of a sudden?  Just wanted to share with you this chutney that makes everything interesting.

If you google for Imli chutney, you'll get lots of recipes, and so I won't bother

There is the Khajur-Imli chutney, made with dates and tamarind.  And then there is the hunisehannina gojju, made with lots of ginger, and south-indian style seasoning, that goes well with huggi/pongal.

But mine is a 5-minute version, and I make a little bottle of it every two weeks, and I always have a stock in the fridge.  It makes everything interesting.

Sprouts?  Add a little groundnuts, and a spoon of imli chutney, and you have a tasty snack.  Curds - add a spoonful, and see how great it tastes.  Eggs?  I tried giving Puttachi eggs in various forms, and though she ate it all dutifully, she fell off her chair in wonder when I boiled an egg, sliced it, and poured a spoonful of imli chutney over it.   Now it is a staple at our place.

It is also a formula for instant chaat.  Boil some chickpeas or something, add imli chutney, and even if there is nothing else to go with it, it can easily be called chaat.

How I make it - forgive me, I have no patience for recipes and proportions, but what I do is:

Heat tamarind paste and jaggery syrup together with a little water. Add salt, kala namak, chilli powder, ginger powder, roasted cumin powder, and then boil it well.  For thickness, you could add a thickening agent like cornflour or rice flour or something, but I don't bother with that also.  Once it boils well, cool it down and bottle it.  Store in the refrigerator.

And yes, I have all the above ingredients always available in the said forms, and that's why it is a five-minute process for me.  

Warning:  Too much of anything is not good, obviously, so if you are dealing with kids, you'll need to make rules about what you can eat it with, and how much.

Day 22 - Raising smart, independent girls

One of the most important - or shall we say, the single most important thing about raising little girls is to get them to be independent.  Society is full of overt and subliminal messages about the suitability of women being meek and submissive and dependent on somebody else for their life's decisions and happiness.  It is very hard to fight against the current.  But, bit by bit, little by little, we have to.

Puttachi is completely into dolls and babies, and much of her play revolves around her dolls getting married and having babies .... but yet, when she was watching Brave, where the queen tells Merida that all girls should get married, Puttachi said, "That's so silly.  We should get married only if we want to.  And we should have babies only if we feel like."  I relaxed.  As long as she knows that..... :)

Similarly, the way we talk to girls, the stories we tell them, the role models we point out to them - all this matters in what they think of themselves and their abilities.  And this holds good for boys too!  Responsible parenting of boys involves raising them to respect women and believe in their abilities.  Because, just as girls are exposed to society's messages, boys are too!

A Mighty Girl shares a lot of links to news of smart, independent girls who make a difference in their own lives, and the lives of people around them.  They point to books and movies that portray girls and women in a positive light, and show that girls can do anything that they want to.  They also link to articles that show how to talk to girls (and to boys too) so that they all grow up with a healthy respect for themselves and their abilities, and that of the other sex.

Please share other links, resources in the comments. Thank you.

Day 21 - Losing myself in learning

When I was in school, a classmate and I had decided that we would be archaeologists when we grow up.  I don't quite recall what we thought archaelogists did, but we were pretty serious about it.  I have also conducted "excavations" in my backyard.  Gradually, the idea about growing up to be an archaeologist faded, but naturally, my interest in the subject didn't fade away.  I always read with interest stories of ancient cultures and reports of new findings of old artefacts.

Now, I'm thoroughly enjoying this archaeology course I am taking from Coursera.  The videos, the required readings, the exercises - everything interests me greatly..  Today, I started research online for an exercise, and it led me to the history of archaeology in India.  I was so intrigued, that I clicked and clicked, and all morning, I've been engrossed in reading about the origins and the fathers of Indian archaeology.   And then, suddenly I felt  hungry, looked at the time - and realized it was lunch-time.

Isn't this the best way to learn?   Choose something you really want to learn, and then lose yourself in it?

Someone asked me - "Why this course?  Why do you want to learn about archaeology? Of what use is it to you?"   Honestly, that thought had never crossed my mind.  I thought for a bit.  What use is it to me?  I have no idea.  I don't see me "using" this knowledge in my life, practically.  But I feel a keen desire to learn about it.  And that, as I see it, is reason enough.

Day 20 - Detective Daughter

One of the great things that S does with Puttachi - he gets her to answer her questions herself.  He guides the way, of course,  and suggests what questions she should ask in order to arrive at the answer to her original question.

He has been doing this ever since she was very small.

For example, I say, "Come on, let's go to Ajji's house."
And she says, "Which Ajji?"
My instinct would be to answer immediately.

But, S doesn't do that.  He says, "Think, Puttachi. Which Ajji's house could it be?"
She looks confused.
S: Where is B Ajji's house?
She: Far away.
S: So if you go there, will you come back tonight itself?
She: No, I'll probably stay the night, because it is very far and by the time I reach, it will be dark already.
S: Right.  So if you have to stay overnight, what will you need to do?
She: I have to take my clothes, toothbrush....
S: Correct.
She: (looks around) I don't see anything around.. Amma hasn't packed any bags.... meaning we are not going to B Ajji's house.  That means we are going to V Ajji's house!
S: Correct!

This, I have found, is a great way to get her to be curious and to think for herself.  The above was just an example, but S does it for every single thing.

To add to it, Puttachi was a fan of Slylock Fox when she was younger, and typically, the father-daughter team would solve it together every Saturday morning.  After that, she gets kicks from deducing things on her own, and glows when I call her "Slylock Fox"

A simple example - "Amma, I saw you buying Palak yesterday, and you are making chapatis today, and I know there is paneer in the fridge, which means we are having Palak-paneer today with chapatis!"

This week, I brought the book Bumbletown Detectives from the library, and it involved deduction based on visual clues - and she loved it so much that she wants to keep it for a few more days! I think she'll love a treasure hunt - my aunt had arranged one for her when she was three - I simply must get over my intertia and organize one for her now, with some complicated clues. I'm sure she'll enjoy it.

In short, I believe that this habit has helped her think and question and deduce and analyze better, which is always a nice skill to have, isn't it?

Try it out!  If not anything else, it is fun!