Author: Indu Patikkal

Parenting 2.0

On By Indu PatikkalIn Children, learning the hard way, life, life lessons, mother, opinion, parenting, Random thoughts, realizationsLeave a comment

I am a single mother of a 19 year old and a 17 year old. For the longest time I have raised them on my own. Not because I was single, but because of my emotional and physical involvement in raising them. As one is navigating college and the other is preparing to enter college, I am in kindergarten learning the art of letting go. I guess it will take a good while to learn this lesson, because it is not about just letting go. The skill I need to acquire is to know when to let go, when to be available, when to hold on. Its a full length practical class. And suddenly I feel, all the parenting lessons I learnt in the last 20 years, doesn’t really matter. I thought I was now proficient, not skilled or advanced, but proficient in parenting, and just then comes racing towards me another curve ball.

Children this age are being themselves, learning, exploring, pushing the boundaries, testing the waters, seeing how deep they can go before they have to come up to catch some air. My mom made it look so easy, when the adamant 17 year old me decided to go to Manipal, or the 21 year old me, decided to travel alone from Bangalore to different parts of the country to meet my partner. I remember seeing some fear on her face, but nevertheless, she stood there, smiled and waved at me as the train pulled away. If she were around, there is only one question I would ask, how did you do it.

It is a conscious decision I make everyday, again and again, its ok, let them do it. Its ok if they fail, its ok if they fall. I have the life jacket, rather, I am their life jacket or their oxygen mask. They know when they need it. They will grab it. So many metaphors I can think of from around us, in our world that equate to this situation. Like, I’ve taught them how to use their wings and now they are jumping off the cliff. They will land, maybe all nice and clean, maybe with a few broken bones, but they will survive. It is something I need to and tell myself everyday, because there is no other way of navigating this phase of parenting, other than being calm and patient. They do not want to walk in my shadow, because they are ready to feel the sun on their face.

In Life of Pi, the character says something to the effect of, finishing a puzzle is deeply satisfying because you have tried every misfit and found the perfect place for every piece. When the puzzle is finished, every piece has found its place. Life is never that way, so a puzzle fulfills your intimate need to bring order to the chaos. We have so much chaos going on inside our head. The puzzle pieces are flying everywhere, we are trying to put each one in its place, but most times it just does not fit. Parenting is one such huge puzzle, maybe the last piece fits when you stop being a parent, with the last breath of life. Elizabeth Gilbert said being a parent is like getting a tattoo on the face. It takes all your life to understand what this tattoo looks like. It is painful, it hurts, you appreciate its beauty, gives you joy, sometimes it oozes, and takes a lifetime to heal.

All said and done, would I do it again, without a moment’s thought ‘yes’. Being a mom fills my soul. I have to be honest, it is not always a bed of lilies, sometimes it sucks. But, there are no guarantees to anything in this colossal mess called life.

Slices of heaven

On By Indu PatikkalIn Random thoughtsLeave a comment

The last episode of Made in Heaven closes with the below narration –

Sometimes heaven doesn’t ordain a companion for us. Some of us are meant to travel alone. Our happiness is not defined in coming together but in letting go. Maybe we need to love ourselves before we can love another. Or maybe we are destined to live in hope. Either way, no feeling is final. And once we realize that we learn to cherish what we have. We remember to hold the magic close. To embrace the fleeting moments that tell us that we belong. Moments when we feel joy. When we know free. When we have a friend who sees our need. And then, just like a shimmering firefly that flashes its light and disappears into the darkness, we have our one taste of heaven and it’s worth a lifetime. 

Happiness to some comes as a full pie with nuts they don’t like, or as a slice of their liking. Sometimes, even a sliver. Living from one slice and sliver to the next then becomes a lifetime of collection of small change as Kamala Das puts it in her poem ‘my grandmother’s house’ –

Can you, that I lived in such a house and
Was proud, and loved…. I who have lost
My way and beg now at strangers’ doors to
Receive love, at least in small change?

So an entire lifetime goes by waiting for these bits, like coming up for a fresh breath of air, and then slowly drowning in one’s loneliness till the next breath of air or till you find happiness in the little under currents swaying you in their arms. A feeling of sinking in the known, not chosen, but comfortable place to be in. A place where you have settled down to find happiness. Every slice of heaven then, is a celebration of life itself.

Its another form of emotional abuse, influenced previously by external forces. Where the survivor has to build this new norm of settling alone, finding happiness, waiting for the crumbs, while there are others outside with their full pie and nuts. It is a constant struggle to survive, on your own in a crowd, cacophonous silence amidst the noise, a drop in the mighty ocean. Waiting.. hoping.. for sunshine…

Its a process

On By Indu PatikkalIn depression, divorce, Dreams, growing up, Incomplete, learning the hard way, life, life lessons, realizationsLeave a comment

Healing is a process. Healing from everything, from loss, from letting go, from sickness, from trauma. Each one takes its own route and time. In the process you discover new things and you start seeing all the gaping holes in your soul that need careful needlework to sew and close. Each one takes its time. I am in therapy, yes, there is so much shit to process. I am on depression meds, yes, because I don’t know when that devil is going to hit me again. It is like metamorphosis I guess. Inside the cocoon, I am slowly evolving to emerge as a beautiful butterfly. And emerge, I will.

Recently, events of my earlier life unfolded to me, and gave me a perspective about my life, which I had never seen before. The car accident from when I was in 3rd grade, left scars on my left cheek. My father who held race, skin color, beauty in high esteem, ask me to pose for photographs with my right side only. If I don’t smile from ear to ear, there is a manufacturing defect to my smile, its one sided. He would say, don’t give me that side smile. My brother to this day rolls on the floor and laughs when he narrates an incident when I tried to ride a bicycle and went and crashed into a house. I don’t know how to ride a bicycle to this day. Maybe three years ago, he said jokingly whats the point of taking my picture, I look like a cylinder anyways. I remember my mother once saying to a neighbor, ‘so what if she’s dark, she’s elegant’.

I am five feet tall, ‘short’ as per ‘unknown’ standards. I am brown skinned, ‘dark’ as per ‘unknown’ standards. At 5 feet and 120 pounds, I was ‘fat’ as per ‘unknown’ standards. In the eighth grade, my eyesight went poor and I started wearing glasses, ‘soda glasses’ as per ‘unknown’ standards. To add to this, my parents and brother were a lighter shade of brown. So, all my childhood, I blamed myself for not meeting these ‘unknown’ standards. My life was a waste, a curse I told myself looking at the mirror.

So what happens when you go through about twelve years of this cycle (age 5 to 17), these standards get ingrained in you. You blame yourself for your inadequacy without realizing that you are unique. All of this is what makes you, you. You start trying to become someone else. You apply loads of ‘fair and lovely’ cream in the hope that you will become light skinned, like them. You wear heels, to feel taller. You apply make up (this part I couldn’t afford) to look perfect. You transform. You feel forced to build this alternate image of yourself to please the people around you, to feel accepted. In this situation a small compliment, an acknowledgement is like hitting the jackpot. When my teachers chose me to give out the speech on behalf of the 10th grade outgoing students, I was shocked. Why me, I thought instead of thinking, why not me.

We start making adjustments to ourselves, a little here, a little there, to fit in, until we don’t recognize ourselves. We lose our identity. To this chaotic situation, comes a person, your first boyfriend or girlfriend, who is just the escape button your soul needs. You give them infinite chances, so much so that a friend comes and asks you ‘don’t you have any self respect’. In hindsight, it’s funny and he was right. But back then, I was so offended. I was busy moving from one act to another. Then another comes, who promises you the moon. Who claims cannot live without you. Suddenly you have this one person who is making you feel worthy. You jump right into the trap. He sets the stage with all your favorite colors, there’s the moon, there’s the bench by the river you dreamt of. Slowly when he’s understood that you are comfortable, he pulls away the colors one by one. He shows you the beautiful picture now and again, while slowly pulling the rug below your feet. You again pretend, try to be the person who fits his environment. The brother, the mother, the father are all there, so you switch from role to role, losing your self identity completely. Analyzing why they did what they did, the only answer I arrive at is that, they felt responsible to fix this ‘flawed’ being.

Until one day, if you are lucky enough, a friend comes by and points out the horsecrap of a life you have. And then you start the process of rediscovery, of healing, of seeing who you really are. 44 years of my life paying up for ‘I have no fucking clue’. It’s a struggle, everyday, I guess this is how babies learn to roll over, crawl sit up, stand, walk and run. I think I have just rolled over. I need to start crawling, crawling my way back into me, the person I am meant to be.

They say relationships are hard work, yes, even the one with yourself, that’s the hardest one. Everyone faces challenges in different ways. Staying sane through everything and finding your purpose, I guess, is the ultimate goal of life. At the end, maybe everyone does what they think is best, in the process if they poke a few holes in another’s soul, I guess, that’s collateral damage.

तुम

On By Indu PatikkalIn Random thoughtsLeave a comment

Haven’t written in Hindi for over twenty years now.. yet it came easily today..

तुम्हें ढूँढ रही हूँ शायद

इस अंजान शेहर में

इन अंजानी चेहरों में

तुम, जो मेरी आँखों में देखके

बात को समझ जाओ

तुम, जो चल सको मेरे साथ

थोड़ी सी जो बची है

उस राह पे

जहां हम न समझ पाए

कि तुम कहाँ शुरू होते हो

और मैं कहाँ खतम..

चलो चलते हैं कुछ दूर

कुछ बातें कर लेते हैं

कुछ तुम कहो कुछ अपनी मैं सुनाऊँ

इसी बहाने रूह चल लेंगे

शायद, हाथों में हाथ थामे

अगर मैं फिसल जाऊँ

तुम संभाल लेना

जब तुम भूल जाओगे

तो हक़ीकत मैं याद दिलाऊँगी

चलो चलते हैं कुछ दूर

कुछ पल ख़ैरियत में ही सही

जहां हम न समझ पाए

कि तुम कहाँ शुरू होते हो

और मैं कहाँ खतम..

Yellow suitcase

On By Indu PatikkalIn Childhood memories, father, growing up, Happiness, holiday, life lessons, Random thoughts, travelLeave a comment

The big suitcases have come out of hiding. Opening them and laying them out on the floor is when the excitement begins. Before this specific act, there are people asking me, are you excited? I say a half hearted yes, to not disappoint the excitement in their voice. But, it really kicks in when the packing starts. Counting the number of days equal to the number of dresses/clothes I need. Add two for buffer. Pick out the dresses/clothes and stack them neatly. Then I see a bunch of them need to be ironed. I diligently iron them. Then the night clothes and essentials. Again equal to the number of days and two for buffer. Once the clothes are decided, then come out the pouches from hiding. Each pouch will serve a purpose. Medicines, makeup, jewelry, daily needs. Then there is the matter of footwear. I start planning footwear way before I pick my clothes. One footwear that makes sense and will go with all my clothes. A simple, comfortable pair of shoes. Somewhere after the footwear and before the clothes, comes my checklist on my phone. Randomly watching TV is when I start building the checklist. Once everything is laid out on the bed, a day or two before the departure date, all these carefully handpicked items move from my bed to the suitcase. Then it is a countdown feeling. Two days from now we will be at this place, doing this or eating this. That is when the excitement kicks in slowly.

The checklist is checked top to bottom and bottom to top, just to be sure. Everything in order, and we get to the airport. Once there, every aspect of mundane life recedes to the background. It is excitement and anticipation of the time, the boys and I will get to spend together 24×7, exploring, joking, laughing, discussing, wow-ing and taking in all the sights the place has to offer.

I guess this euphoric feeling of seeing the big suitcase coming out is something that has grown with me since I was very young. My family owned a yellow VIP suitcase. It was a hardcase, the top came down and there were metal snaps, that you pressed to shut them close. This is before suitcases had zips. What the current generation would call ‘Retro’. There were number locks, I dont remember if this particular one had a number lock. The inside covering was a golden yellow machine embroidered cloth, I think. Maybe my love for yellow started then. That suitcase coming down from the seven foot almirah meant we were going from Bangalore to Kerala for vacation. Lack of time and money stopped my family from taking vacations to new places every year. Those did happen once or twice, but vacation meant boarding the Bangalore-Kanyakumari Express from Bangalore Central Reservation on Sleeper Class tickets to Shoranur Junction. We got off there and took a bus with this yellow suitcase to my grandmother’s place. After a few weeks there, the suitcase went with us to Kannur, to my paternal grandparents place, filled with more uncles, one aunt and a handful cousins. A ‘fewer’ weeks there and then the suitcase boarded an overnight bus to Bangalore. Somewhere towards the end of maternal grandmother’s house and before the paternal grandparents house, my father joined us. My father preserved a lot of things. The original magazine covers from the 1970’s where my mother’s picture appeared on the cover. In the pile of junk I cleaned out, I found my 9th grade report card. My boys saw my marks in general knowledge and added it as a weapon in their quiver (smh). One thing I did not find, is the yellow suitcase. When I was small, the yellow suitcase seemed big. I guess now that I am big, it wont be bigger than a carry on. I dont know, I never will.

There are things in our life, objects that remain memories. We don’t have pictures that our eyes can see, but stark images in our mind, stored forever. Like the blue metal folding chairs in my house, which I don’t know how many times I must have opened and folded. The gas stove that my father bought, many many years ago, that didn’t need a lighter, the knob had ignition built in, This one I don’t have to imagine, because my father still used it until his last day. It was waiting for him in the kitchen when I went to clear out the house earlier this year. There are so many objects that we use everyday, but they slip away with time.

If there was only thing I could do in my life, that would be to travel, to every nook and corner of the world. I believe there is so much to see, so much to experience. So this time, the suitcases are out, getting filled slowly, as we jet set to the UK, checking off a place that has been on the boys and my bucket list for many many years now. The excitement, like the bubbles in a glass of champagne making their way to the surface. The suitcase is not significant looking. A dark teal colored companion I bought earlier this year to accompany me on my journey of the world. Let’s see how many places she and I will see together.

Evolution

On By Indu PatikkalIn Random thoughtsLeave a comment

I had started earning money, still living with my friends, but I could afford a phone. Before this one of my friend had a phone, she kept my track of text messages and phone charges. We paid her for using the phone. Everyone was working hard, so I would have probably done the same, if I had a phone and let me roommates use it. On one of my visits home, I told my father, I needed to buy a phone. He took me to Burma Bazaar. We went to the basement floor and asked for mobile phone. They showed us a few models, including the Nokia 3310. It was over my budget. So I settled on a blue BPL mobile. All it could do was send/receive text messages and phone calls. This is the same place he took me like 3 years before that to buy me a Walkman – a personal audio cassette player. BPL was a trusted brand then, and Burma Bazaar was like a black market, I guess.

It was a beautiful phone, it looked different from the Nokia models. I used it to call and text my boyfriend extensively. We fought, we loved, we missed each other. The phone was a welcome relief in that long distance relationship. I used that phone till I left India in 2004. Back then, you used something till you couldn’t use it. If it broke, you tried to fix it first before replacing it. It worked till I left India. Moving to CA, my company gave me an LG flip phone. Man, that was a grand upgrade. Flipping the phone open to take a call and talk, it was classy. Flip phones changed, but remained flipped till I left US in 2012. I wasn’t given a blackberry at work, because I don’t qualify for one.

2012, in India is when I got my first smartphone. Samsung galaxy note 5, I guess. As the batteries died on me, I moved to a newer model of Samsung. I remember the Apple users poking fun at me, like using a Samsung phone made a second class citizen. In 2019, I switched to the iPhone. Today, I hold a 14Pro as I write this post.

As phones evolved my connections to people evolved. The number of people on my contact list increased. Back then there was only one group of friends, they were called “Friends”. Today as the storage capacity has increased there are groups of friends. Friends I will call anytime, friends from work, friends from the past, social media friends, favorites.. Yet one thing remains, those 5 or 10 people whom you laboriously loaded on the phone Address book back then, are somehow the same people on your favorites list today. The “go-to” people. A couple may have been added along the way, but by far the list remains the same. Some dropped along the way.

I was walking around the T-mobile store earlier today and saw a flip phone. I opened it and thought, wow! I’ve come a long way.