Category: life

Parenting?

On By Indu PatikkalIn Children, growing up, life, opinion, parenting, Random thoughts, realizations, WomanLeave a comment

I have been lazy lately, to write. Some days there are thoughts that I want to note down and some days my mind draws a blank. When I really have to write it down, I put in Facebook and its done. I know that’s not a good thing. I need to write to get better at it. So let me collect some thoughts here everyday (I hope). My friends keep telling me to write, they go to the point of nagging me, which is a good thing. I while away scrolling through the colorful notes and pictures on Facebook and Instagram. Well that’s me. Have you faced situations where in your mind you want to change, but you just don’t do it. You are conscious of the fact that you are not making the change, and yet you don’t make the change.

I have been going through some parenting challenges lately. Parenting is the most difficult mental task one can undertake. You never know if you are right or wrong until many years later. My generation of parents I believe, is so hooked on doing it right and dreading the results that we miss this moment. We are constantly hounded by ‘what-ifs’. What if my child does this, or that, or turns out like this or like that. We don’t have enough faith in ourselves or in our judgement because we fret about the end result – when our children are like 20+ and need to walk on their own. The absolute moment when you leave your child’s hand and he/she walks out alone.

I always think, how did my parents do it? Anyways, with the recent challenges I learnt two things –

1. One baby step at a time – yes ‘baby’ step at a time. The key is breaking it down and taking one baby step at a time. The best analogy I have is the 5K training I attended. I got up from my couch and signed up for a 5K training. The training span was about 2 months. The task on day 1 was to run for a minute and walk for 19 minutes. Just one minute. As long as you stick to the plan, you will achieve the goal of running a 5K. Children are smart and can do many things at a time, but a behavior change has to be made one step at a time.

2. Its give and take – all the way. A parent child relationship can never be all-give or all-take. Never. It has to be give and take. Keeping that balance is the key to healthy parenting. They need to feel like a partner and not order takers. Do this, do that never works. Parents also have to mind their Ps’ and Q’s. In a recent conference call at work, someone reference to the parenting saying ‘Do as I say not as I do’. That never works. Children are naturally wired to ‘Do as I do’ rather than ‘Do as I say’. It is so important to do your part for them to do their part. I strongly believe, that the best environment for nurturing their innocence and help them grow into independent individuals is an environment of love. Where there is love, there is everything else. Love doesn’t mean agreeing with them all the time. Love means being with them, Love means listening to them, Love means taking interest in their everyday life. They go through struggles and challenges everyday. The challenges in an adult’s view are molecular but those are the child’s biggest issues. Obviously they don’t need to worry about a project deliverable or paying the bills. So the boy on the next table not sharing his toy is a big, big problem. I have read somewhere that the best thing you can give your child, is your time. I did not have this awakening as soon as my children were born. It took time.

There are many more essentials of parenting. These are what hit me in the last week. Many people have said this over and over that when babies are born, parents think maybe the next stage will be better. As we progress through the stages we realize the previous one was better. We reach the conclusion that newborn was the best. Change the diaper, feed the baby, swaddle and hold and that’s it. The rest of the issues are what you as a new parent needs to get used to.

From my parents life I know that they can never stop parenting. Even today I call my father and ask for guidance. He is parenting me to parent my children. Of all the roles I have played, the most challenging and the one I love most, is being Mom.

The year gone by…

On By Indu PatikkalIn celebrate, Childhood memories, father, Friends, Good reads, growing up, Happiness, holiday, life, opinion, parenting, Random thoughts, realizationsLeave a comment

New year is always an opportunity to reflect on the year gone by and renew the hope within you to possibilities and achieve something new. Technically January 1st is just another day, when you reset the calendar. But over the years this day has filled the human with what a system reboot does to the computer. You wash out the junk and temp files, and make the system ready for new transactions.

As I look at the year gone by, it was an eventful year. So many high points, and low ones too, and definitely some valuable lessons, retaught in life’s mysterious ways.

I ticked off a few items from my things-to-do-before-I-die bucket list, and some were direct blessings from above delivered to me through people I love.

All through my childhood years, my parents never owned a car. The lack of it didn’t have any impact on the quality of our life either. We walked, took an auto, rode the bus. The memories created during those walks, holding my parents hands, the endless chattering during those 2km walks from school or my father’s office were filled with stories from my father’s childhood or general knowledge about the world. I am so glad there were no mobile phones then, to intrude into our privacy. The paradox of today’s life is that we drive to the gym to walk!

So it was not until I got married that I owned a car. All credit goes to my husband for pushing me to learn driving. He virtually gave me a pair of wings. Fourteen years hence, we walked into the BMW showroom and bought our first BMW, a black sedan. Honestly, buying a car or even a BMW is no big deal in the US. You get auto loans at good rates, you can own any car you want. What makes it a blessing is knowing from where you came and where life has taken you. Counting your blessing and the luxuries that God has blessed you with. The icing of all of these blessings, was driving my father in the BMW, which was his first ride in a BMW! Truly blessed!

So, you have read blogs about my childhood years, the house I grew up in. My mother always complained that she never owned a house, until her final years when my brother and I together with our parents built a house in Wayanad. After listening to years and years of her grumbling for her own house, she looked so calm and at peace sitting in the front yard of the finished house. She looked like finally she was home. The memory fresh in my mind. Maybe I got this from her, but I always wanted to my own house and didn’t want to have it towards the tad end of my life. I wanted it during a time when I was healthy enough to maintain it. So thanks to my husband again, he bought us our first home. This house is many times the size of the house I grew up in. Again, what makes it special is knowing from where I came and where life has brought me. I now strive to create half as many good memories for my children in this large expanse of space, as my parents created for my brother and I. Again, blessed!

She is the first lady in my husband’s family I met. She welcomed me into the family with the warmest hug and a heart full of love. In all the fourteen years I have known her, she has only given love. Such selfless love, I have only read in books. She battled the worst illness during her final years and even in those times, she spread the warmth she had been blessed with. It was only befitting that she named our eldest son, Nitin. The nicest soul life introduced me to along the way, moved on to find her place in heaven. In that leaving, she redeemed me and blessed me for the years when she wouldn’t be around. Blessed to have been part of her loved ones!

Then my appa! The seventy year old, handsome fella who applies hair dye so carefully and wans to look young as he gets older. His bald head being the only obstacle. After years of nagging, he finally boarded the big bird and crossed the seas to come see America! He saw less of America, and just more and more of Walmart in Bentonville and rain and snow in Seattle. The six months he spent with my brother and I comes to an end this week. Yet having him with either of us is so much of a relief than when he is alone in Bangalore, where I call him everyday just to make sure he is okay. As he has got older he has developed some irritating habits like all old people do (which even I will, I am sure) but what he has done for me over all these years, is our personal story and is so important in shaping the person that I am today. So blessed to be born to him!

I always love spending time with my parents and sibling. We relive our childhood years, like everyone else. This maybe more important and dear for daughters who even partially adopt a different family strain through marriage. Being yourself with no strings attached is so endearing and happens only with your own parents and siblings. I got a week of this bliss when I went to Seattle to spend time with my brother and father. As I left Seattle there were underlying fears that I kept hitting down like whac-a-mole arcade game, yet the happiness of that one week is a treasure. Blessed to get that one week of me!

When you stay in a different country and miss your best friends often, getting even a 24 hour time period with them is a treat! 90% of the time is filled mostly with nonsense chatter, laughs, laughs and more laughs. At the end of the day the memory of that time brings a smile to your face. When life doesn’t offer you the best, this is where you huddle into, your punching bag, with no promises and explicit professing of the depth of the relationship. Its the knowing that they are which makes all the difference. The two nonsense-chatter people in my life have stayed on for sixteen years straight now. I can’t imagine my life without these two. Blessings!

Grandparents are a treasure. My children were blessed with another set of grandparents and their unlimited love throughout last year. My children are a bit more affectionate, softer, respectful because of the affection they were showered with by these grandparents. I am ever so grateful, that my children got this opportunity at love during these years of their life which will definitely play its part in the people they will become. Blessed again!

Letting go is difficult. Dipping myself in that cold water early in the morning, following the steps the priest dictated, putting rice and reciting those mantras supposedly frees my mother. It is not sadness or tears that I felt, its a frozen state accentuated by the dip. With my father beside me, its like she tied the bond a bee wit tighter. It was a low time, no doubt. But in the knowing that I was born to a fighter with a never-say-die attitude is the biggest blessing I have received. Her attitude to move on in spite of all obstacles is what she passed on to me. Blessed!

There were low times, but at the end of the day who wants to remember them. They are best let go. People whom I misjudged, people who helped you sail through during tough times, everything a blessing, a learning. There were days when there is no light at the end of the tunnel, just then the ray of hope shines in the form of a person or the inner strength or the force that helps go on. Through it all, God has been the invisible strength either directly or through people whom he placed in my life.

Yes, new year is a Ctrl+Alt+Del system reboot. Bring on the new challenges and blessings!

May 2017 be filled with blessings, again!

Cooking

On By Indu PatikkalIn growing up, Happiness, life, opinion, Random thoughts, realizations, WomanLeave a comment

Cooking is an art – whoever said this, uttered the truth. When you sketch, you need to feel the paper, use the correct pencil, every stroke makes a difference. When you make jewelry, you need to pick the correct beads, string them in the right sequence to make something beautiful. When you paint, your canvas, paints, brushes, strokes all of them matter. Its the same with cooking. You need the right utensils, spices, oil, vegetables/meat, sequence of events and above all, the P word – Patience.

Like all art forms, cooking needs an enormous amount of patience. If the onion is a tad bit undercooked or overcooked, it makes a difference to the end product taste which is probably another ten steps away. There are people who cook in a hurry and yet get it right most of the time. Yet, the speed is not in the cooking, its the speed in multitasking or tricks to get to the end product sooner.

My oldest memory of cooking goes back to that tiny 100 to 150 sq ft of space lines with built in shelves of cement on the right side, a sink again made of cement on the other, with stands on either side to keep the washed utensils, on the left side. There was a tap that opened into the sink, unfortunately, water never flowed through the tap. There was a plastic basin or bucket on the side, from which we fished out water to wash the utensils. This basin and back up plastic drums was religiously refilled everyday morning by my father who carried the water up two floors before he went to office. The two sides was connected with a wooden plank of about 10 feet by 3 feet on which we kept the stove. This was the third side of the kitchen. Initially this was a single electric coil, till we became modern and got a gas stove that had an automatic lighter. My father uses this stove even today!

The right side of shelves was lined with red circular plastic containers with off-white lids. These were remains of some washing powder we bought in those days. Then there were a couple of huge aluminum canisters to store rice, atta. There was a green basket to store onions and potatoes – this again still lingers on in my father’s kitchen today. There were Red Label Tea plastic bottles to store the smaller volume items like dal etc.

It was sweaty during summer. There was a small window which she opened to let some air inside, but quickly shut off because the gas flames would go any which way. The kitchen was always crowded except for the center area where we sat down to cut the vegetables or knead the flour or roll out the chapathis. There was a waste basket in one corner, which was cleared out everyday at the bell of the worker who cleared out trash from households. As soon as the bell rang, we would carry that bag of trash and run down two floors to hand over the valuables. Later, we got modern and played catch by throwing it from the second floor at the direction of the worker.

My mother cooked here three times a day for us for almost thirty years! I know now, that I would have hated it. I am sure my mother was not a fan of the kitchen she had to succumb to. I wouldn’t have been if I had to cook in there for thirty years. But she made sure there was food on our plates.

It was a very humble dwelling compared to what I cook in today. Yet the lesson I learnt about cooking has not changed. The single most important one being – whatever you cook, you need to cook it with love. You can add the best spices, give it all the time you have, yet when you cook with love, the end product tastes the best. Is it the love for food? No. It is love for the fact that you are going to feed someone. In the Malayalam movie Usthad Hotel, Anjali Menon wrote for Thilakan – when you feed someone you should fill their heart.

Whatever my mother felt in that kitchen one element for sure was love, coz she filled our hearts every time we ate.

Love you Ma!

 

 

 

Loss

On By Indu PatikkalIn death, Incomplete, life, Random thoughtsLeave a comment

Its been over a year since she left. Since she started living with me in spirit. Yet when I look at her picture on my desk for a length of even 10 seconds, my mind plunges into abysmal emptiness. I feel myself falling into depths I have never known before. I have to snap back almost immediately. If not, then her last physical form flashes before me. I feel the coldness of her face when I saw her being rolled out.

I hate it. I hate everything about her leaving.

Remember you played games as teenagers asking, if God granted you one wish, what would that be?

I have my answer.

I would like to feel her warmth again.

My mother. My strength. The one who made me, me.

I love you Ma..

Of Bread sandwich & Maggi noodles…

On By Indu PatikkalIn Friends, growing up, Happiness, life, Random thoughtsLeave a comment

So these were the engineering days. I lived in a hostel with a wonderful roommate and a bunch of cool girls next-door. It took me a few weeks to understand the know how’s  of a “hostelite”, but once I got the hang of it, there was no looking back, and they are the most memorable years of my life. 

“The akkas'” 

The hostel comprised of girls, matron and akkas’ (how you address elder sister in kannada). Many of them were probably younger than the girls, yet we called them akka. They probably came from families which needed them to come out and live in the hostel, cooking food, cleaning the mess, helping the matron in administering her histrionics etc. To earn some extra money, they washed our clothes, a certain amount for each piece of cloth. We heaped the bucket with dirty clothes, topped it with a sachet of Surf Excel, sold at an essentials store within the hostel and gave it to one of the akka’s. They washed the clothes, dried them and left them folded in the bucket, ready to be picked up and worn by us. 

It was a stark difference between the privileged us who were on our way to earning an engineering degree Vs a few girls, who earned their living by cooking, cleaning and washing. 

“Indu P, Indu P, Indu P . . visitor”

There was this elderly lady, whom we should have technically called aunty, but to keep it uniform called her akka. She was in charge of the microphone and the telephone! There was a room with a telephone to which we could receive calls. So, when any of us got a call, she switched on the PA system and went “Indu P, Indu P, Indu P . . phone”.. if there was a visitor the watchman called her and she made the announcement replacing “phone” with “visitor”. Post this announcement you could hear a loud “COMING” in response. If the akka didn’t hear this, she would hang up or return the visitor. A  thundering phat phat phat of hawaii chappal (a cheap sandal) on the cement floor followed, reverberating around the quadrangle. I know there were girls who secretly kept track of who got visitors, just for the fun of it, rolling their eyes to their closest friends.. 

“PCO Booth”

For outgoing calls there was a PCO booth within the hostel premises. The person who operated the booth was blind, but very capable. His equipment had Braille engraving that helped him operate the booth. After 9 pm STD rates were lower and there was this queue of girls outside the booth waiting their turn. This was the time when mobile phones didn’t exist. Calls to parents, calls to boyfriends, knocking on the door when one person took a loooooong time, kuchikooing, log entry of phone calls, advance booking were some of the daily noises around here. 

“Sunday paratha and ice cream”

Sunday was “I-wash-my-hair-today” day. After gobbling down the every Sunday morning aloo paratha which was a heap of boiled potatoes, barely covered in dough, dusted with a thick layer of flour, served with the same pickle every weekend, the girls took a loooooong bath, washing their loooooong hair. At lunch time they came swaying their long tresses for the Sunday special lunch. The ice-cream served post lunch was something we looked forward to. We could have bought better ice-cream outside the mess, but eating that ice-cream on the steps of the entrance to the hostel, chit chatting for hours, was a treat. A few hours into gossiping and we could see the boys starting to line up outside the hostel. This was a super time pass. The guy comes, gives the name to the watchman, the watchman gives the guy a dirty look, announcement over the PA system, the loud running footsteps, which slows down right around the corner where the steps end and the hostel entrance walkway is visible to the outside world, matron giving dirty looks to the girl, nevertheless, the dressed up girl walks out blushing, the “vela” (local word for jobless) girls on the steps give out a sly smile..

“Saans”

There was a rec-room with a 20 inch CRT TV that was our only source of television, those four years. Monday night 9pm, you didn’t have to look further, majority of the girls glued to their seats or inch of space available in the rec room watching a soap called Saans, which was about a married man, his wife and the other woman. If you whispered while the show was on, the seniors would give you nasty looks. 

The seats were reserved for and by the final year girls while the freshers edged on their friend to catch a glimpse of what was going on. 

“Night canteen”

The akkas’ ran a night canteen during internals and semester exams. They served biscuits, bread sandwich, egg sandwich, coffee etc from 11pm to 1am (I think) since the mess closed after dinner and this fueled the thinking minds before the exam! So after about an hour’s study after dinner, and another hour of chit chatting, the girls raided the night canteen. The yummiest and most expensive  (I guess it was Rs 5) was Maggi noodles. It was served in a small silver plate, filled to the rim. We usually shared this and it was a sure delicacy. So was the bread sandwich which was this enormous piece of bread buttered and toasted. Yumm!!

The best years, treasured memories, abundant happiness, carefree life.. 

The light of candles

On By Indu PatikkalIn birthday, celebrate, Childhood memories, Children, growing up, Happiness, life, Random thoughts, schoolLeave a comment

My earliest memory of a birthday goes back to maybe age 10, I am not quite sure. Even today I am as excited as I was as a kid. I honestly don’t know why. 

The “traditions” we followed, too heavy a word, I know, started few weeks before “the” day. My parents took my brother and I to Chellaram’s to buy a birthday dress. Chellaram’s was okay. It was the same kind of frocks, not a glamorous place. Nevertheless, the new dress was excitement enough. 

Then magic happened. 

I distinctly remember the opening of KidsKemp. When we passed by KidsKemp, there was always a Santa with white beard and red attire waving at the passersby. It was so colorful. For one of my birthdays, after much pestering (my poor parents), took us to KidsKemp. It was like the mall of today. Beautiful frocks. My jaws dropped at the sight of the colors or let’s call it glamour and glitter of the place. It is my most luxurious shopping experience memory from childhood. 

KidsKemp was a one time affair. The prices were so inflated that we had to go back to Chellaram’s the following year. 

I still manage to get or save a new dress for my birthday, every year 😊.

Each year on Jan 1st I would circle the date on the Deccan Herald and/or Malayala Manorama and/or Prajavani calendar. Big red mark, so that nobody forgot, just in case. Well, I don’t mark any calendars today, Google does that. But I kind of start reminding my family to remember to wish me. I told you at the beginning, that I was kind of.. well.. obsessed. 

Then we bought chocolates the day before to distribute at school. Oh what a privilege that was. The first period, class teacher walks in, spots you in a pretty dress, not the bottle green uniform, tells the class, “so, we have a birthday girl today.. come on class, let’s all sing for her.” As a child that was an i-am-on-top-of-the-world moment.

That morning, my mother woke me up with a very happy smile on her face saying “happy birthday Indu”.. those words echo in my mind. She did this consistently for every year I was with her on October 1st. The smile, the affection, or the love, never faded once. I long for that love today. 

Then came evening. My neighbor’s kids and us bought some crepe paper and balloons, decorated the living room and waited for my father to come. He brought the cake and candles, every year. The number of candles matched my age. The light of those candles reflected the brightness on my face or maybe it was the other way around, I don’t know. I see the same brightness in my son’s face when the candles are lit and I love seeing that delight on his face. 

I get them even now, a cake, candles and the light of the candles.

I don’t get a wish from my mother. The first ten minutes after I wake up are empty and quiet. But in some form I get her blessing and wish. I may be construing this completely in my mind, but the coincidences are too much to ignore. So I did receive special blessings today. 

As I went to college, the family traditions of cake, decorations faded. It was a treat for friends at Nilgiris Bakery, Basavanagudi for starters, ending up with MotiMahal at Mangalore during engineering days. At work too, it was a treat for friends, I still got a new dress and cake. Gifts for birthday were never a major thing. Sometimes I got, sometimes I didn’t. What I valued were the people I got to celebrate my birthday with. All of them special people, very dear to the heart.

After marriage, my husband pampered me with gifts. May not be every year, but the year’s he buys me something, they are out of this world. The best, always. These are gifts I never imagined I would get in my lifetime. 

Today was special. Friends spent an entire day preparing for the evening party. It was a double celebration, my son and I got a “happy birthday mommy and me” cake 😊.. pampered again with gifts, happiness and laughter. 

The best part was the cards my kids gave me, thanking me for the wonderful mother I am and wishing me happiness with other personal notes. The thoughts that were put in those cards, made my many many everydays’ perfect. My older one just wrote on an index card while my younger one picked out a pink flowers card, with lot of mushy words.

Grateful! This is the only feeling at the end of the day.. for family.. for friends.. for all the love.. affection.. care.. it’s a lot to be blessed with. From the childhood days of buying clothes at Chellaram’s to the extreme luxury of driving a BMW at Bentonville, life has changed seasons many times; one thing that remains unchanged are the loving people I am surrounded by year after year.. truly blessed !!