Chapters From My Life

Escape From The Sun Scare

2012-05-28T10:17:00.000+05:30

Kyra says she is going out this summer outdoors to have fun in the sun, play some volleyball with her friends and relax with nice cold drinks – all thanks to Lakme sun expert.

How would I live it up this summer? I am trying to live it up not only this summer but every season of the past few years playing the game of survival in the sun, rain and wind. As a kid, I had no fear of sun or moon, and loved the outdoors. Later on as I grew up, there were restrictions as to my activities outdoors and I did not get to venture out in sun much. Yet there was no fear or threat of the yellow ball in the sky harming me in any way. It was only after going through cancer and chemotherapy for treatment that I realized how harsh the sun can be.

How would Kyra feel venturing out in sun with a total bald head and skin oversensitive to sun rays? Hmmm … just like I felt 16 years ago. It was really awful going out in sun with a bald head, and a skin so sensitive that it would turn something similar to brinjal with spots in half an hour out in sun. There was burning sensations everywhere the sunrays touched me. All those magic creams that turned girls into airhostesses, brought marriage proposals, made them successful professionals, and won the lovely glances and attention from their hubbies failed even to provide me with basic protections. They made me go through the torture of side effects of chemo and sun combined together and made turn into some kind of a weird creature with spotted skin, lips, and spotted bald head. Doctors told me that spots were not a common and regular feature among the side effects of chemotherapy but they could not rule it out. They said the exposure to sun added fuel to it.

I kind of became invalid person during the days, venturing out for my work only in the evening. But there were things that would not wait for the sun to go down and it was then that I had to bear the sun’s burn. With my curtailed activities I started to gain weight, became lazy and gave reasons for not doing work.

Finally I got tired of my weird look and lifestyle and visited a dermatologist for suggestions. He explained to me that I did not need any kind of fairness or vanishing creams but actual protection from sun. He suggested some medicines that would provide me sun protection with high SPF and explained the unhealthy effects of ultra violet rays on human skin. I had no idea about these matters back then. He told me to keep away from all those fairness and vanishing creams and gave me some medicine that would lighten my spots. He also mentioned if I did not expose my skin to harsh sun rays for a few weeks then the spots would fade away. I came back home a much wiser person.

During and for a few years after my cancer treatment, my umbrella became an inseparable companion in my every venture. The spots did not go away completely but they lightened up and also there was no more new spots and burning of my skin. But the umbrella was a big trouble too, though the trouble was negligible when compared to the side effects of sun’s harsh rays. Managing the umbrella and carrying Farheena for her physiotherapy was a kind of balancing act, and so was carrying the shopping bags. Another problem arose when I had to travel as a back rider of my brother’s bike. I wished so much that I could put an umbrella like cover over the sun itself so that I could have my freedom back.

If the Lakme sun expert could hold the umbrella for the sun, then I would gain my freedom to shop, enjoy the beach, run around with my kids freely, have and fun and enjoy my life. I would be alive instead of struggling to survive most of the time hidden under an umbrella. I would love to run around freely and for sure overtake Kyra in having fun outdoors in the hot sun when all it did was to burn my accumulated fat instead of my sensitive skin.

This blog is a part of I LOVE LAKME, The Lakmé Diva Blogger Contest
organized by Indiblogger ..........
https://www.facebook.com/ilovelakme

ART of BLAMING…

2012-04-23T15:27:00.000+05:30

ART of BLAMING…

When something goes wrong

On something cleverly shift the blame

Though learning the art of blaming

Is not an easy game

Try patting your forehead

And with grim face blame your fate

Shrug your shoulders

And blame your position as desperate

Smack your lips with a little twist

And blame lack of ability

Sometimes put on a sad look

And blame burden of responsibility

Give a very tired look

And blame your bad health

With an angry tone

Blame your situation which lacks needed wealth

There are plenty of things for which

You can the increasing population

Then clenching your fists y

You can blame the idiotic television

Screw up your face, hold your heart

And blame unfaithful friends

Shake your head vigorously

And point towards modern trends

With rebellion tone and revolutionary gait

Blame your oppression

Throwing your hands in air

In a careless voice blame your nation

If you have a quite one

Then nag and blame your husband/wife

If you have a self respecting spouse

Then in a desperate tone blame unkind life

When everything is lost

And every blame looks a bit odd

Yet you have the Almighty, don’t spare him

Go ahead and blame the God…

By Farida Rizwan

Searching For Lost Innocence

2012-04-20T00:41:00.001+05:30

Searching For Lost Innocence

Why can’t I enjoy my life now?

As I did when I was a child

The world which was once wonderful

Why now appears to be so wild?

Waste buttons, colored piece of chalk

Key without lock, all were a pleasure

But why now they have become trash

Where did I find different meaning for treasure?

Why can’t I love and believe fairies now

Where did I lose my innocence?

In drawing, writing or come reading

As I did why don’t I see my excellence?

Why do the twinkling stars, sun and moon

Seem no more a wonder of the sky?

Why amusement is very rare now?

When did all questions in my mind die?

Why can’t I smile heartily now

At anyone for a single word of praise?

Now my lips just stretch a bit

As for flattery I have lost craze

Why am I unable to glare now?

At people I dislike and smile at friends

Now why the smiles and glares are reserved

To mostly suit the latest trends?

Though there was not much wisdom

There is abundance of joy in innocence

I don’t want the knowledge I have

For innocence I can happily trade intelligence

By: Farida Rizwan

Art by Farheena

As I entered my teens, I was shocked to find that growing up and being an adult was not going to be fun..

I was worried and this poem is the outcome of my fears back then.

Fortunately I have discovered the child in me again and l am loving my life now...

My Khatti Meeti and Burning Hot Spicy Life

2012-04-16T12:50:00.002+05:30

One day my mother wanted some puffed rice and she sent me to the shop to get it from a neighbourhood vendor whose shop was quite some distance away. I walked all the distance only to find the shop closed. I dragged myself home and informed my Mom so. For some peculiar reason her response was odd, “How is that? He is always open on Tuesdays. He is closed only on Fridays. He has to be there. May be you did not go all the distance because you felt lazy. He is always there and you better go and get the puffed rice. I am getting late in serving the breakfast”.

Now I started to wonder what I should do now. This was a frustrating and situation which made me angry. My mind started on its evil journey where I decided to get back at my Mommy. I decided to use the word always as much as possible in everything to irritate her. The word would be my trump card in coming days.

I am stood there lost in my world, when my Mommy continued, “Now when are you going to get the puffed rice?”

“I am not going alone. Send someone with me so that you will know I am not lying. You are ALWAYS sending only me on errands.”

My Mom summoned my sister who was busy talking with her friend, and sent us both to get the puffed rice from the shop that was closed. My sister loved to catch me red handed doing mischief and I could see the grin of anticipation on her face. That gave me another idea that I should include her in the revenge which I would have on my Mommy.

Why I talk like that, question would arise in your mind, “Don’t I love them?”. I think I do and quite a lot. But this feeling of anger and revenge comes over me when something irritates me or I feel I am being pushed against my will. I am very sure that I do not want them hurting or in pain even for a moment but I enjoy seeing them being frustrated or troubled for a while.

As we walk towards the shop, I start wondering what if the shop keeper has come back. What if he had temporarily closed it? Would I be labelled a liar? I was tensed for a while but then I relaxed thinking there is always a way out. I can ask the shopkeeper where he had been a little while ago when I had come down.. Whew!!! What a relief it was.

The shop was closed. So I laughed out loud and said, “See, coming all the way down here was a waste of time and energy for both of us.. Mommy is so silly and she mistrusts us ( I wanted to include my sister with me)ALWAYS”.

We are walking back slowly when all if a sudden my eyes fell on a kitten shivering in mud water. I love kittens a lot and wanted to have one at home. It was so cute that I was willing to fight hard to keep it with me. Then I realized that I need not do it at all because there was else who would do all the dirty work for me.

“Babe!!! (my sister’s pet name). Look what a nice little kitty. I am sure if washed it is going to be all white and shiny. You said you wanted a pet few days ago… (she wanted a parrot or dog for a pet) how about taking this and cleaning it. Shall we take it with us?”

My sister was a compassionate being towards animals and her inevitable response was, “Wow! It is so pretty. And poor thing it is suffering so badly. I hate its mother who has left it to die here. Come let us pick it up”

“Wait I saw it and I am going to take it home”, I said that only to provoke her into leadership. It worked for she replied, “I am bigger than you and it will be safe with me.. I carry it home properly. Here hold this bag and money. Let us pick it up and take it home and clean it”

I did not want to go back home so soon. So I said, “We need to clean it before we show it to others. Or else they will tell us it is stray dirty kitty and will not allow us to keep it”.

Here the use of ‘we’ was just another form of ‘you’. I was damn sure my sister was going to do all the work for me.

I knew with all her pride and ‘I am the leader’ qualities she would do everything all the way, and also fight to keep the kitty near the bed where we sleep.

All the while I loved the thought of my mommy waiting sitting on the small stool in the kitchen wondering “Where have they been…???????”

So off we went to a roadside water pump and clean the kitty … most of the work was done by my sister, where as I helped by pouring water and making comments. She was soaked and got dirty in the process. My mind was working on the two words ‘Always’ and ‘Never’. I wanted to include them in the coming communication as much as possible and see the effect.

We entered the house quietly. I gave back empty bag and money to Mom, as she sat there with the questioning look on the stool in the kitchen. How silly it is that she thought I was lying and we both are coming back with the puffed rice.

“Where is the puffed rice?”

“The puffed rice is in the shop that is closed. You ALWAYS doubt me when I say something. You NEVER agree that I do not lie”.

My mommy looked at me to say something but then was shocked to see my sister soaked wet and all dirty with something in her hand.

“Where have you both been to? What is it you are carrying in your hand?”

Now it was my sister’s turn to take over and she did it smoothly, “We had been to shop mommy. It was closed. While we were hurrying back home we found a poor kitty who came running to us. We could not help but help it.. Look how cute he .... errr she is”

My worried Mom exclaimed, “God! You two have been playing around with kitties when I am waiting here to get the breakfast ready. Your daddy will have to leave for factory in about 20 minutes and what am I going to serve him now?”

My turn for revenge and I said, “It is your fault Mommy. If you had trusted me earlier you would have had lots of time to cook the breakfast for daddy and all of us. You ALWAYS mistrust me. You NEVER believe what I say”.

“What is wrong with you Fari? When did I not believe and when did I mistrust you? Stop saying always and never… may be once in while I may feel you are playing a prank on me … Ya Allah! It is so late now to cook anything else”.

My mother was very upset with the confusion of cooking breakfast, in addition to a very dirty daughter with a sparkling clean kitty shivering and meowing pitifully in her arms. Finally she said,“Both of you take that kitten out and keep it out until I finish my cooking. Don’t disturb me now”.

“But mommy we NEVER have any pets. Why do you ALWAYS refuse to give us any pets? We want to keep the kitty with us please please please…..” I whined and whimpered.

“Shut up. It is too small to survive without its mother. Go back to where you found it, look for its mother and put it back with her. You don’t want to kill it? Do you?”

My sister was aghast to hear this. “Mommy! This is quite a big kitty and I will take care of it. I am much better than its mother in taking care of it. If I had not seen it, may be some dogs would have gotten to it and torn it into pieces. I want to keep this kitty and I am not going to put it back from where I brought it”.

By then my dad asked mom if his breakfast was ready because he was getting late for office.

My Mom told us to keep the kitty and rushed to fix something quickly for dad who was getting impatient. He usually spent a lot of time getting ready for the office and then hurried up with remaining tasks. I, at times wondered why he spent so much of time grooming himself every morning where as it took my Mommy lesser time to get ready to go anywhere.

My dad walked in asking “Is the breakfast ready yet? I have to leave in few minutes”.

“I am having trouble fixing something for you today. These girls took so much time to come back from the shop and they did not bring anything. In a minute I will roll some rotis for you”, muttered my Mom

My Mommy was an excellent cook, so she had rotis and egg omelets ready for Dad who was mumbling and grumbling at the same time. He did not like cats much and if he saw the kitty when he was in a shitty mood then there was no chance of us having it.. but I knew one thing for sure - if they threw the kitty out they had to throw my sister out too. Once she decides to help an animal then there is no stopping her. Her sympathies are very strong and it can take away her mind completely and stunt the working of her other sense organs. She cannot think straight, cannot hear the reason, cannot see the facts and loses her fear.

We both hid out of Daddy’s sight until he went to office. Then I had an idea flashing in my mind. I had watched people bottle feeding babies and when my little brother was born I wanted to feed him too. But mommy never allowed me to feed him because she was afraid I may choke him or something. I don’t blame her because there were times when I would get lost in thoughts of God knows what and would forget what I am actually doing. So here I saw the chance of bottle feeding this kitty. My sister beamed with happiness when I told her that we should bottle feed the kitty. Soon we both broke our piggy banks. To our horror we found that someone had been tampering with them. We had way less money than we actually put in it. But this was no time for playing police or CID, so off we rushed to the shop to buy a feeding bottle. We had a little argument over the colour; my sister wanted red and I wanted yellow, finally she won the argument by putting some extra cash. We rushed back home and my sister slowly went up to my mother who was now busy getting the lunch ready. It was amazing how my mother was engrossed with cooking most of the time, and when she was not cooking something she was busy feeding someone. My sister asked in a very pleasant tone,“Mommy can I have a glass of milk?”

“Off course Beti ( daughter) .. so finally my lovely daughter realized milk is good for her hmmm” beamed my Mom

“Mommy I want to feed the kitty”, answered my sister sheepishly.

“Oh God! Is it still alive? It must be lucky to survive you two demon girls. Have you been picking it up and bothering it much?” said my mom horrified.

“No Mommy we have made it sleep in the basket on an old sweater” my sister pacified her

“Whose old sweater?” asked my Mom worried.

“Grandma’s old sweater. Fari said that is the best one for our kitty” said my sister. I was never in good books of my grandma and we always had a cold war brewing between us.

“Off course she would say that… I can almost hear her saying that and I can also hear your grandma shrieking and making a fuss out of this.... OH! What else for today?” My Mom was almost in tears now. She had tough time managing me and her mother, because none listened to her.

“Don’t worry Mommy. I will tell Naani that I took her sweater and please let me keep it. She won’t say anything” My sister explained.

My sister was right. She was my grandmother’s pet and she would forgive her a few murders gladly, where as she would not forgive me one dirty look in her direction.

So she came back with the milk and we both took turns in feeding the kitty. We had to decide on a name and we decided to call her either Rosy (because of her pink nose) or Julie for some unknown reason. Finally we ended up calling her Julie because my sister’s teacher was also named Rosy and we did not want the cat to share the teacher’s name.

Julie survived and became active little cat. My mother was wrong that she would not survive without her mother. She turned up to be a wonderful pet at first for both of us and finally got to be all mine.

No! I did not do anything drastic. It just happened naturally with natures call. Afte drinking all the milk and absorbing all the nutrition, her body had to throw out rest of the waste.. which did not come out with good odour. My sister is very sensitive to stink and could not stand it even for the love of the cat. My mom was very strict that we had to clean up whatever mess Julie leaves behind. So the big question stood in front of us as to ‘who will clean up after the kitty?’ My sister puked when she tried but I could do it without puking. So finally I told my sister she had failed in taking care of kitty because cleaning after the kitty poo is a part of care-taking. My sister was in a dilemma and knew she was losing her leadership position, but she was helpless. We split our rights (it was much easier than the Ambani split) on Julie into 80-20. I got to own 80% of Julie for cleaning the crap.

Initially I was worried that my studies would be affected negatively because of Julie but it actually affected me positively in every way.. other than my tiffs with grandma over the cat. Julie would curl up near my legs and give me company when I studied. I felt her company but no interruption at all. I could concentrate more clearly because she never allowed me to feel bored and made me relax.

My grandmother found Julie to be my Achilles ankle, so started taking advantage of this new found weakness in me. She always believed that we were at war and she had to win this at any cost. She tried to prove that she was to be obeyed no matter whether she was right or wrong. At first she tried to tell Daddy that she is allergic to kitty hair but then my sister started wailing so loud, the topic of chasing away Julie was dropped like a grenade whose pin has been pulled out. My sister even scared me to some extent … Phew!

But after our division over Julie, the kitty was with me most of the time…and my grandma started picking on her. It was Julie who broke everything broken around the house, it was Julie who ate every missing food in the house, it was Julie who dirtied everything in the house that was dirty…Everyday Julie committed at least 8 grave sins and it was concluded by my grandma that she will accompany me to hell. I may have turned into a school dropout fearing Julie’s safety but my Mom fell in love with the kitty and so I could leave her in the cruel world filled with crueller grandmas and go to school. My Mom fed her milk and other soft food initially and later on fed her fresh fish etc. When I was not around Julie would sit under my Moms stool in kitchen and be safe.

My dad never liked Julie, since he got the negative reports of her as soon as he came home from work – worn out and tired.

The dear cat would curl up on our bed and stay there the whole night sleeping cosily, where as I and my sister lost sleep fearing we would hurt her. Gradually we got used to it and for once in my life I was not kicking everything and everyone around me in my sleep. Julie taught me to sleep still… [and I still sleep that way even to this day though Julie is no more with me].

One day a verbal duel took place between me and my grandmother. I was coming back from school with my sister when all of sudden, instead of running into us, Julie flew at us at the level of 2 feet above the ground and landed a little in front of me. I was shocked as to what must have happened and then saw my grandmother coming after her… and concluded she had kicked the poor kitty.

“How dare you kick a poor little cat like that Naani?”

“I did not kick it.. why should I get into the bad book of God for some silly little stray cat by kicking it? She came in my way and I stumbled on her”

“Stumbling on cats does not make them fly, only kicking will”

“I said I did not kick her.. that is it”

For some reason my sister was not saying anything and that irritated me a lot. She usually avoided arguing with grandmother and our dad. I could not help it.

My aunt rushed out to see what was happening and asked me why I was crying because I was already in tears thinking of Julie who was sitting aside licking herself calmly.

Somehow between sobs I blurted out “This cruel old woman kicked my cat and it came out flying at my legs”.

“Is that the way to talk about your grandmother?”

“May be not but let us talk about that later. Why should someone kick poor Julie?”

My aunt was confused and irritated for some reason.. but she managed to ask my grandmother ‘why did she kick the poor kitty’.

“That devil of the cat is always running between my legs and trying to kill me, I actually stumbled on it. I swear on Allah!” exclaimed my grandmother.

“That is it. She swears and we cannot say anything more”, said my aunt.

“Swearing will not take away Julie’s pain”, I had to complain.

“FARI!… will you please SHUT UP now? When someone swears on Allah it means what they are saying is true. If not, Allah will punish them. We are not to dispute this because Allah knows all”.

I was in utter confusion here because I had seen Julie fly .. and there had to be a kick behind it, as she had no wings.. but, aunty was arguing that swearing on Allah meant that there was no kick. My eyes were lying. My aunt loved me and usually stood by me in most of the situations. So this was very irritating and also was irritating was the fact of my sister’s silence. May be she was tensed about the math’s test the next day or may be she had not seen Julie fly out like I did.

I did not argue more but decided that I had something to prove. My mind started chugging away like train engine.. chuk chuk chuk chuk.. and then flashed an idea.

I slowly slipped into a room where few things were kept on the mirror. I broke a nail polish bottle, wiped the mess with my grandma’s blouse, sprinkled face powder in all four corners of the room, made mess on the wall with my pencil and sat to do my homework. I felt Julie had been avenged and she slipped quietly near my feet and went to sleep proving me right.

I almost forgot about my avenging event by working math when shrieks and squeals made me realize the war had begun.. there they were blowing horns and inviting my army (only little me on one side all of them on the other) to fight.

Someone shouted “Fari! Why did you do this mess here?”

“I did not do anything” I answered back defiantly.

“You are a liar” my grandma’s voice was heard over other complaints.

“May be yes, but so are many of you” again a defiant answer from me.

“We want to know why you did this.” Someone shouted back. Now was the right time to teach them something and I said, “I did not do it and I swear on Allah that I did not do it”.

There was utter silence all of a sudden. It was as though the world had stopped and stood still. Then all the muttering of Taubah Taubah started and they started to plead with God to forgive this devil child because she did not know what she was doing.

“What?” I said finally because it looked me this thing is never going to end.

“You stupid girl! How dare you swear on Allah just like that and that too on a lie? Don’t you know how fierce is the fire in hell?” asked my Mom desperate and anxious.

“Now you are not trusting Allah because you are not believing when I am swearing on him. That will make you accompany me to hell”

“How can we trust you when we can see what you have done here? Nobody came here and no one is insane to do this” shouted my grandmother.

“So when you see something and you are sure, you can question the swearing on Allah but I cannot? Hmmmmm….” I answered.

It was at this time in argument that my dad walked in. My grandmother gave a dramatic explanation of everything, where it ended as me swearing falsely in the name of Allah which was presented in fluorescent words.

My dad was tired, and he did not need this when he came back home.

“This girl needs to learn right from wrong and there is no more room for explanation. She needs to be punished”. Said my dad in tough voice.

So when my mother fretted (she never wanted any of the child physically punished), everyone stood around and watched, a nylon wire was brought, twisted and used as a whip to lash my legs. Yeah! Only legs. Meanwhile I was asked to say sorry to God and promise to never insult him in such way. I did not. I was hurting very badly and my skin had given way in one or two places making it bleed a bit. But no! I had decided not to give in and it was Dad who gave up after 6-7 lashes. It was the only time he had punished me and it was tough for him.

My grandmother smirked and unfortunately I saw that. I could not forgive her easily for that. My aunt wept and tried to pacify me, but given the anger seething through me, she could not even make any eye contact with me. I was not going to look at any one of them. I was wild, angry and felt I have been wronged. For many days to come I was quite most of the time and just gave angry stares at my family when they tried to talk to me. I did not ask for food and my mother had to remember to feed me something. I stopped allowing her to comb my hair, help me have bath etc. I created my own island in the house and started living on that island and meanwhile unknown to anyone, unheard by anyone.. secretly I had decided that God was my enemy like my grandmother.

My Mom and other members with their loving ways, someone reached out and connected back with me after sometime. The advantage of the incident was that it made everyone become over protective with Julie, who enjoyed her life in our family for a long time to come.

Today, my Mom and Sister have lost their lives to Breast Cancer, along with my Dad, who though suffering from Hodgkin’s cancer died naturally. Their memories have now become a treasure. My sister was a partner with me in everything that happened in my life before our teens. Relationships are not always sweet and fun, it has its darker sides too, but no matter what happens, how angry we are, we cannot stop loving our families.

The incident I have written about has all the sweet, sour, spicy and bitter memories of my childhood. Though just a simple happening in the humdrum of life, it has left some impact on me as an adult. I still cannot relate myself with any religion because I have seen with my innocence the blind way people follow it. I am totally against physical abuse and punishments, because I can still sense the shame and hurt I felt when my grandmother smirked while I was being beaten. I am very careful and cautious when talking to children because I know how sensitive their minds and hearts are.

We cannot take our children and families for granted because it is the small every day happening that will chisel the character and future of the generations to come.

This entry is a part of the contest at BlogAdda.com in association with imlee.com

The people who have become a treasure in my memories .. I miss them every moment of my life.

Family faces are magic mirrors -
looking at people who belong to us, we see the past, present and future.
Gail Lumet Buckley

Miracles Do Happen

2012-04-13T19:22:00.004+05:30

Sometimes I wonder whether miracles do take place in our everyday life, or is it just our imagination wanting to please us. Miracle is a word used in regard to me very often. It is the word which made a lot of difference to my personality in my childhood. I was born feet first at the time when women would not go to hospitals to deliver kids but give birth in home with help of midwives. They say it is a miracle that I did not slurp off my mother’s life. Thank God for that. Then it is a miracle that I could walk with my disability and also run in time to come. With their hopes soaring, it was a long wait for my parents for a miracle to cure me which never happened. They even shifted to Whitefield so that the miracle would be close at hand to them.

They always told me have faith and it will happen. “In seconds you will see that the disability has just disappeared. Pray intently. God is kind to small children. Have faith. Or else you will be the loser”. I did not believe them. I don’t know what was wrong with me. I just thought that it can’t be like that. I am born with a disabled foot where it is twisted, they were saying that suddenly it is going to be like a normal foot, which was not easily digested by me. I forced myself to have faith, pray intently but inside me the doubt always lingered. So I gave up. If they were telling the truth then there was no chance of me getting cured because I couldn’t have strong enough belief and faith. The doubt lingered in me. If they were lying, even then the result would be same. So I gave up the effort.

I grew up with my disability. But it did not control me. I had it under my control. I walked, ran, jumped and did everything I felt like doing and my disability just watched me helplessly unable to stop me. Then one day I found it was not there anymore. It had just disappeared like my parents told me. The miracle had taken place. And who worked the miracle? It was just a simple person, a friend, by name Hema.

She was the lady who made a lot of difference to my life. I met her when I was going through a very rough time. I had so much of burden on me that I felt sure that God wouldn’t let me down because if he did, then the burden would fall on his shoulders and he would not want it. I was almost on verge of blaming God for not being fair to me, but then she stopped me. The lady who had mobility in just one hand, yet so calm, smiling and that too in such a genuine way that it deeply entered my heart, asking me to be comfortable, she just did it. She not only had me seated comfortably but made me feel so comfortable about my whole life in general. It would be a shame if I blamed God after meeting such a wonderful creation of his. It was her calm approach that impressed me. Not blaming anyone, she was so grateful to everyone for the wonderful way they had treated her. Whereas I was complaining that my parents took me to a holy man and waited for the miracle to happen, she mentioned proudly how her parents had carried her to every temple in the hope of getting her cured. She saw the love in their behavior whereas I could only see their silliness. She had the wonderful sight to see only the better side of every situation, where as I did not posses that sight. I saw her paintings, embroidery, handicrafts, and also got to taste the food prepared by her. Nothing stopped her from living her life to the full. Yet disability to move three limbs should be disadvantage for anybody, no matter what they are made up of.

I never missed any opportunity I got to meet her. We developed some strong bond between us. We exchanged our ideas and at times we argued a lot. But we never tried to change each other. She always was so calm and accepting and I was a rebel. We became very good friends and remained that way for a long time. Then I had to shift to Byndoor and we could not meet again. One day I was shocked when my mother called me and announced that Hema was no more. My mother had also developed strong love for Hema and wished to meet her, somehow it never worked out.

In the short time we shared together, Hema just made sure that I was cured of my disability. Where everyone had failed earlier, she had succeeded. She worked the miracle for me. It had just gone away. I never felt that I belonged to the category of the disabled anymore. I realized this when I was coming back from after meeting her one day. I was on a crowded bus when a stout lady, looking very tired, got in. I was seated on a seat reserved for the disabled, and when she looked at me with hope I just stood up and offered her the seat. Earlier I always thought I deserved to be seated no matter who was standing, because even I had difficulty in standing for long time with my club foot. Standing there I realized I had been cured of the handicap.

I heartily salute the wonderful person, who, in her short time taught so much that I am a totally changed person today. She was not just an ordinary person born just to go to school, get a degree, marry some guy, bear some kids, get old and die someday. She was born to prove to the world that 'where there is a will there is a way'. You can be grateful to God no matter how he has created you. You are special in a unique way. She was born to teach me the best lesson I ever learnt. Though she is no more with me, her calmness lingers around me even today.

Being a Mom

2012-04-07T19:44:00.000+05:30

One of the hundreds of loving moments which makes life worth living...

When I was thoroughly enjoying Sidney Sheldon’s ‘Tell Me Your Dreams’, I was intrigued by the multiple personalities of Ashley Paterson. It was unbelievable that a person could have a diverse personality inside their psyche, that was until my own alternate personality took over me. My alternate personality was called ‘Maa’ and it was completely opposite of what I was. The advantage I had over Ashley was that, I was aware of both the sides of these personalities and could interact with them. I am spared the mystery at least! Whew.

Little Rayyan

Life was simple and boring until 20^th August 1991. At 7.18 a.m. on that day, the most wonderful moment of my life took place. I gave birth to a child and I was born again. That is a contradictory sentence, but that is how life has been ever since. When I say, ‘I was born’, that is the beginning of my alter personality which started taking over me and changing me into a Maa. Days have passed by, and finally, ‘Maa’ rules my life now.

I was a trouble maker as a child, but, as I grew up, I sobered down. Though I had those temper tantrums, crying bouts and other teen related symptoms; for most of my teen years I was quite, scared and withdrawn young girl. I was afraid of the world. Loud sounds, fights, dogs, cows, men, and eve teasers everything scared me in my teens. I do not understand when and why the transition happened, but somewhere during my adolescent time it took place slowly and unnoticed by me. On the other hand, that could be one of the other alter egos taking over me, or just simple growing up process. Whatever, I damn sure that I was not the same person in my teens, as I am now or I was in my childhood. The present myself can relate well to the childhood myself, but in no way can it see eye to eye with my teen self; which was hollow, pretentious, always trying to please others, and nervous.

Look at the child, not the walls.. :)

Relationships often have responsibilities attached which take away a part of you or change you into something else. Being a daughter, daughter-in-law, sister, student or wife had that kind of effect of on me.

The best part about having kids is they did not take away what is there in me and change me into a Maa. They have brought the real me out and made me what I was really meant to be in the first place. They haven’t driven me nuts – but made me think wisely. They have not made me weak and nervous but made me strong and brave. They have given me the enthusiasm to fight for my life and live in their happy world, enjoying their company. I can proudly say ‘I am at my best when I am being a Maa’.

I am indebted to my children for returning my own self back to me. I would like to share a small poem here which many years ago Rayyan (7 yrs) walked up to me and rendered spontaneously. I treasure it one of the best award I ever received. It was said in much simpler words in mixed up language. I wrote it down and kept it in my own words.

God gave me a Maa.

God has given me legs to walk

A boneless tongue to talk

A short nose to poke about

A big mouth to eat and shout

A cheek to receive lovely kiss

Friends to help me in crisis

Wonderful teachers to teach

A father to discipline me and preach

A heart to warn me when dangers lurk

Two tiny hands to do my work

Above all God gave me a Mommy

Who can do everything for me!

She talks for me when my words fail

She pokes about when I lose trail

She shouts on my behalf when I have sore throat

She plays with me when my friends tire out

She teaches me what my teachers can’t

She preaches me when my father won’t

She is in my heart to make it strong

She is like music and a beautiful song

I love my Maa.

Off course I love that dear boy who is grown up and fast turning into a wonderful animator now..

Fun time with kids

The kid summed it all very well. I changed back into behaving and being a kid after I became a Maa. Gone were the days I spent, brooding over lost opportunities, lazing around, being grounded for no apparent reason or watching boring movies. It was time again for long walks, activities, music, creativity and fun. I took up painting once again and it was one of the activities we all enjoyed thoroughly as a group of expert painters. Occasionally, Farheena would get carried away and her art spread on the floor and climbed up the walls. She wouldn’t stop until sleep took over her genius creations.

Farheena continuing the art work in her sleep...
She was unstoppable..

I allowed one messy room for my children to enjoy themselves. The walls could be painted and floor could be tainted there, but nowhere else in the house. To this day, my children have followed the rule. They do not trespass their territories ever. There was a time when I was confused about making decisions. Children were precious and I could not take chances. Though I had instincts telling me what was right and what was wrong, I decided to seek expert advice from people who knew about children. Starting with a book ‘Bringing Up Baby’, I intently
studied a lot and listened to people who mattered on parenting. Finally what precious gift I got out from all my effort was my ability to be patient, ability to accept the truth gracefully, ability to persevere and ability to love unconditionally.

This entry is a part of the contest at BlogAdda.com in association with imlee.com

I am indebted to my children for returning my own self back to me. Few Memorable moments I have enjoyed with my loving children.

Having fun with costumes

Another childish behavior of Maa LOL

Annie enjoying Farheena's birthday cake

Annie wears flowers in her hair for the first time.

The beach dramas...

Rayyan being extremely excited about his paper hat

Picnics are more fun with children

Cooking is fun when you cook for your kids. Their smile pays with happiness

Make World A Better Place For Differently Enabled People

2012-04-02T18:11:00.000+05:30

The time to bring about a positive change in the world around us has been long due .. may be for centuries now. It is tough for a person to choose a particular change when you see the world around you. The violence, terrorism, crimes, litter in streets, the paan stains, domestic violence, child abuse, education system, bribery, communal divisions, stinking politics, discrimination in name of gender, caste, status… Whew! I cannot stop to take a breath as the list of things keep hitting my thoughts.

I have to calm down, take a deep breath and concentrate on one thing that hurts me the most and the situation I would like to change as much as possible. Also I want it to be a problem that I can do something about. No use howling at the moon... which is beyond my reach. The picture becomes clear and I can see now what I would love to change in the world around me. It is the Indian attitude towards differently enabled people or just people who are generally different from us.

Many of us must have experienced the looks, chatters and rumours that go around when you are even slightly different from the mob around us. Be it the dressing style, colour of skin, pock marks on face, hair styles, pimples or even slight limp, it is good enough to attract the attention of Indian people. You don’t have to perform Herculean tasks in India to get the attention of the mob. In my childhood, I riding the bicycle got enough attention, that is was good enough for my parents to stop me from enjoying a fun ride in the evening.

Not many hesitate to stare and embarrass people in India. NO! They do not feel it is indecent to stare at someone. Some will even go ahead and ask questions as to what is wrong with the person. Recently I was shocked when an elderly man asked a young girl in the bus, whether she had tried fair and lovely? I thought he must be her grandpa or something; imagine my shock when he got down in the next stop giving her a wicked smile. I have no clue why the girl put up with such nonsense silently like a TV put on mute.

The portrayal of intellectually challenged people in our Bollywood cinema is disgusting. What is comedy about being IC? Is that something to laugh about? I don’t know how far our society is affected by our cinema but sure there are residues left behind by such portrayals. When they steal action scenes, music, and stories from Hollywood, why can’t they learn from them to create differently enabled characters in our Bollywood movies.

There is no line of privacy drawn when it comes to Indians. We want to talk about schools, grades, dress codes, marriage, divorce, and everything that would be considered personal in other nations. Imagine the situation of differently gifted or special needs people in this scenario.

I have had personal experience with myself where I dealt with my club foot and limp in my childhood, and then with developmental hindrances faced by my daughter and dyslexia of my son (something I avoid discussing because I don’t want him to be branded since he has been able to escape a name tag so far and he can do it for his own good in future).

In my childhood, I had to face a lot of teasing and jeering from other children and also by elders. Why go far, my grandma would say at times when I was being naughty, “God did not make you limp for no reason, if you had straight feet you would be out of everyone’s reach”. When I think back about it, I feel so angry because that was such a wrong thing to say to a child who is yet to understand such remarks. Often I did very well in my studies and sadly instead of being appreciated, I would be accused of being sympathized and shown partiality by teachers. It was much easier handling me even when I was young, because God had given me strong personality to face people and throw their tantrums off my tough hide. Nothing deterred or penetrated deep inside me. I cannot say the same when I had to deal with the problems faced by my child. All my raw nerves were exposed for the world to hurt me and they did with a vengeance for failing earlier. I hid behind steely masks not giving them the pleasure of success initially but then slowly I myself turned into steel and became stronger to face them and give better life for my child.

I do my bit everyday to bring the change in the attitude of the people towards special needs people in general and especially the girls in particular. I wish that more and more people would join the cause to spread awareness and bring about a change. Many countries have seen the change and I have myself witnessed it in USA.

Farheena was a happy go lucky girl in USA. She wore a smile and confident look most of the time when she went out there, which sadly disappeared once she came back to India. People who see her pictures from USA at times have trouble recognising her to be the same shy, withdrawn girl they see her to be now. The big difference has happened just by the way people respond and react to her.

I feel sad that she could walk around happily in the Wal-Mart, Publix and other malls without caring as to who is looking at her, which she cannot do now. In USA she so often welcomed strangers with a ‘hi’ and they readily waved back a big ‘HI’ to her, which at times was leading to quite some communication with Paula, my friend as a mediator. No one treated her as a special needs girl there; she was just a special girl enjoying all the love and attention she deserved from people. There were some special people like Tysha, who went out of her way to show how much she appreciated and loved Farheena, though we met as strangers.

Back in India, most of the time Farheena is pushed into silence by people asking what she is saying over and over again, or discussing what is wrong with her without even realizing they are hurting her emotionally. They ask questions just because they have to satisfy their curiosity. They need not bother, as they very well know that they cannot help her in anyway. At least they could allow her to be herself without having to make her a topic of the chat.

Words heal and words hurt. Use your words wisely and mind what you say to people around you. Everyone has a heart that hurts.

At times I have to be rude to stop people from being silly and acting silly towards Farheena. I had prepared a list earlier which if people read and improved their behavior would make the life of differently enabled people a lot better. When you check this out, you will realize how unnecessarily we are adding to the burden of the special needs people which can be avoided so easily.

Please bring about a positive change in the world around us so that everyone gets to live happily and securely in there. If you actually do not want to do something then please take to avoid doing certain things which would be a great help in itself.

· Build a flight of stairs up to your front door. My daughter goes through so much of extra effort everyday to enter our home. Many grand buildings in India have been built without keeping the people in wheelchairs in mind.
· Tell a special needs person that they are better off dead or ask stupid questions like ‘Why did God do this to you?’ If God has done this then, he should be having the answer. It is said that people meet God after death. Please try that route. The special needs people may not highly benefit the society but then they mean no harm to anyone either. Why aren’t those questions posed to the harmful people in our society? No one asks that to the rapists, murderers, crooks etc! Amazing is the mind of the people around us. Sigh!
· Remind special needs child about their special schools and mention about how unfortunate the children going to those schools are.
· Make the mother the sole responsible caretaker of the child.
· Avoid talking directly to the challenged child, but talk about them to someone nearby assuming they have no ears, eyes, intelligence and heart to hurt.
· Always ask what is wrong with the child and how, when, where did it happen blah blah blah… Why do you need to know all the details? Can you help in anyway?
· Tell the parents or special people themselves that they have to find a solution to their condition no matter how much money it will cost. Do they actually need to hear this from others?
· Introduce a challenged person to someone as the one suffering from such and such condition and portray them as victims of curse. We often hear the “Ayyo Karma .. Karma” mutterings from so called know all smart ones.
· At times people ask about Farheena as though they have heard about her condition already and she realizes that people discuss her. No. She is not happy about this. Don’t make the special needs people conscious of their condition and make them feel that they are gossiped about by people.
· You need not patronize them either. Treat them as normal people because they are normal. Find the definition of abnormal in a good dictionary and know what it is.

· One smart quote says that “Only two things are infinite, the universe and human stupidity, and I’m not sure about the former”. I am sure about the truth in that quote after listening to people who have complained that special needs people take so much from the society and relatives giving back nothing in return. Once a lady told me not feed Farheena much, because if she got heavy it would be tough for me to handle her. It was a time when I used to carry her around. I am so glad Farheena is my daughter and not hers.

· What is the need to proudly flash your knowledge in front of the special needs people about their conditions? Many people confuse mental illness, mental retardation, and other such ailments but never try to keep quite on the issues. They want to talk about every person they know with a certain ailment, every doctor they have heard about or every book they have read on that particular topic. Why not try your GK with Amitabh Bacchan on KBC?
· Complain that people with challenging behaviour are just naughty or blame the parents for not teaching proper behaviour to their children. It is not easy to be a parent to ADHD children. I may not have personal experience, but have closely watched the struggle of the mothers with hyper active children.
· There is no need for every person under the sun to know personal details about anyone and that includes differently enabled people. Don’t ask extremely personal questions relating to menstruation, hygiene etc.
· When they achieve something it is through hard work and not by luck. Avoid saying you were lucky to achieve that.
· Show exaggerated sympathies along with the typical tongue clicking and feel great about yourself… It is not helping anyone people. Keep those sympathies for yourself.
Special needs people need empathy and not sympathy.
· Resist asking stupid questions like “Does she eat?” God! How do you think she is surviving?
· Special needs people have emotions and feelings, may be stronger than what we realize. My daughter doesn’t talk fluently, but that doesn’t mean she cannot think. At times she has come out with amazing comments about people who ask silly questions in front of her.
· Argue in front of the concerned child whether the money being spent on treating them is really worth or not.
· Mention that they don’t have to struggle with studies and homework, how lucky they are. Think over it in silence once again.
· Complain how easy life is when your Mom is doing everything for you.
· Bring in God into the issue and remind the people that may be they are being punished for their past sins. No one has spoken to God and heard that personally from him. We are not great enough to make assumptions on his behalf.
· Give them stares and make them feel uncomfortable. This is the worst thing we face in India.
· Insist on assisting a person even when they flatly refuse to be helped. Respect their choices and decisions.
· Touch them without their permission. Not many like to be patted on the head or touched on cheek.
· Lean on their wheel chair when you talk with someone else.
· FINALLY, TAKE ADVANTAGE OF THEIR INNOCENCE. It is terribly wrong to take advantage of a special needs person in anyway

Many people say that I am earning favour of God and good Karma by taking care of my daughter. I don’t want to hear about the good karma. To hell with your heaven people. I don’t give a damn about that. All that matters to me is my daughter and I love her.

My friend Madonna says, “I firmly believe that those spirits who choose to come to this earth with a disability are the strongest, most advanced spirits of all. They are teachers, here to show the rest of us the real meaning of love and compassion. Every time I see one of them, I am humbled by their selflessness and their ability to love others in spite of the obstacles they face in this world. They are not to be pitied or treated with contempt, impatience or irritation. They are here for a purpose...to teach us to love unconditionally”. She is absolutely right there.

Many years ago, I had read an article in newspaper and typed it out to read once in a while when I needed to change myself.

A few years ago at the Seattle Special Olympics, nine contestants, all with special needs assembled at the starting line for the 100-metres dash. At the gun, they all started out, not exactly in a dash, but with a relish to run the race to the finish and win. After running a little distance a boy stumbled on the asphalt, fell down and began to cry. The other eight heard the boy cry. They slowed down and looked back. They all turned around and went back. Every one of them.

One girl with Down’s syndrome bent down and kissed him and said, “This will make it better.” All nine linked arms and walked across the finish line together.

Everyone in the stadium stood, and the cheering went on for several minutes. People who were there are still telling the story. Why? Because deep down we know this one thing: What matters in this life is more than winning or living for ourselves.What truly matters in this life is helping others win, even if it means slowing down and changing our course.

We need to learn and change the world to make it a better place for everyone.

Stayfree believes that it is time to bring about a positive change in the world around us. Together we can make a difference where it matters the most.

This is the change I demand in the world around me. I hope my voice is heard.

This post has been written for the Time to change Contest hosted by IndiBlogger sponsored by Stay free of Johnson & Johnson

To check out more about Voice of Change visit the facebook page

http://www.facebook.com/sftimetochange

Farheena .. The special princess for my friends in USA

LEARNING DISABILITY– The Silent Tormentor - Part -1

2012-03-31T16:17:00.001+05:30

My son Rayyan has started blogging recently. He wanted to write about his animation course and his experience of learning there. Somehow he decided to write how he finally got to choose the profession he always loved, by going through the struggles in his school and college. Though I was a caring and loving Mom, I am getting a closer glimpse to what he has been through by reading it in his own words.
So I am dedicating this present post to introduce the readers to Learning Disabilities which may help them to stop another child from being tormented like Rayyan was. I did my best to be there and support him all through his struggles but it has been very tough for him.

Learning disability is a silent tormentor of students because it is not prominent like other disabilities. Many a time the child is rubbished off as lazy or stupid. Sad but true.

Learning disabilities affect the way a child receives, processes, or expresses the information available. Learning disabilities can continue throughout the entire lifetime and have an impact on the basic skills of reading, writing and speaking. As it is not an ailment there is no cure for it, but skills can be learned and techniques involved reducing its impact to minimum.

Learning disability is a disorder that involves disorder of the basic psychological process of understanding or usage of spoken or written language. For children with learning disabilities the basic skills of listening, speaking, reading, writing, or math may be considerably affected in the negative fashion.

Impact Of LD on Emotional development of the Child

Learning disabilities affect children of average and above average intelligence and not those who are below average in IQ. It is tough to identify a child with learning disability since each one of us, have at some point of life faced learning difficulties in one or other way. The line dividing those who have and those who do not have learning disabilities is so thin that it is almost invisible to layman. Learning disabilities is suspected only when the learning difficulties are too severe and start to affect the normal education or other activities of a child.

It is important for us to notice that LDs are not due to mental retardation, emotional problems, autism, and other physical disabilities. Learning disabilities are also not a result of lack of education opportunities or environmental influences and the truth has to be accepted that it is not a phase that a child will outgrow. There are no cures for this disorder. If a child is facing significant difficulties with learning reading, writing and arithmetic, then it is good for the parents to find right strategies to cope with the situation without putting undue pressure on the child.

Even if you only suspect a child is facing learning disability then it is better to take precautions and talk to teacher, school staff and family members to know more about the child's behavior. Children with LD require special education services like special help to understand subjects that are difficult for that particular condition of the child. A parent is in the best position to help the child understand what he or she is going through. The parent’s involvement is huge since at every step the child will need the right support, care and encouragement to face learning challenges that they are facing. With right intervention a child can succeed in school and become a successful adult if given the right choice of career. No child should be forced into a career they have problem studying with. For eg: A dyslexic should not be forced to take up literature assuming that it is easier than Maths and Science.

What exactly is Learning Disability?

Learning disability is a general term that describes specific kinds of learning problems which can cause a person to have trouble learning and using certain skills like

Reading texts
Writing (messing up with b’s and d’s etc)
Listening
Speaking
Reasoning

Learning disabilities (LD) vary from person to person. One person may have trouble with reading and writing but may have good mechanical or mathematical aptitude whereas another person with learning disabilities may have problems with understanding math but may excel in languages.

Researchers think that learning disabilities are caused by differences in how a person's brain works and how it processes information. Children with learning disabilities are not "dumb" or "lazy." In fact, they usually have average or above average intelligence. Their brains just process information differently.

The definition of "learning disability" just below comes from the Individuals with Disabilities Education Act (IDEA). The IDEA is the federal law that guides how schools provide special education and related services to children with disabilities.

It is very important to note that children with learning disabilities can be high achievers and can be taught ways to get around the learning disability. With the right help, children with learning disabilities can learn successfully.

To be continued...........

Its Your Life

2012-03-27T23:24:00.002+05:30

My child, of my life you are a part
But it is always wise to listen to your heart
For in life, in Kayaks we travel
Left to drift on mysteries to unravel
Parents can guide you
On the path they think is true
Eventually it is your life
You deal with its strife
You can't get into my life
Nor can I get into your life
No matter how much we want to
This is impossible to do
Aim with high precision
And make your decision
Listen for good advice
But make your own choice
For everyone can drift away
But you are to stay
Stuck with the choices you make
With your goal at stake

Improve Your Parenting Skills -- Part 2

2012-03-12T00:00:00.000+05:30

Click here to read Improve Your Parenting Skills - Part 1

Have respect for your Mom and Dad because you get only one each of them in your whole life time... no matter who you are you cannot have two of them :) – Farida

That was my facebook and twitter message a few days ago. It came to my mind all of sudden one morning, that I can have brothers, sisters, friends, children, husbands or anyone in plurals but not mother and father. We have never heard anyone saying my mothers and my fathers. As I sat down pondering over it, I realized how important it is for us to function as a parent. Our children can never have a replacement for us, ever! Even Uncle Sam cannot create another set of parents for children. If they have good ones, they are lucky, if they don’t, God Save Them!

My parents loved and were kind towards me and my siblings. They tried very hard to do things the right way. They failed many a times because, they were ignorant and had no access to information like parents have today.

I remember certain things from my own childhood which made a lot of difference to my life. After growing up and becoming a responsible person; I now really feel sorry for those people who were target of my child hood tantrums. But I also realize what caused them, and so I have become adept at preventing tantrums and drama shows from the side of the children. It is very rare that I cannot handle a child smartly without great fuss.

I was a very naughty child. Time and again my grandmother and mother would warn me that, “God is going punish you if you don’t behave”. At times, I would get scared of a big God hitting me from no-where and would behave... but most of the times I thought it was a lie and did what I wanted. If they would have given me some real reasonable answer, or a reason not to be naughty it would have worked better. Stories of demons carrying away naughty children, wild animals attacking them were not working with me. But when I think back on their efforts in trying to instill fear in me, I think it was not right because with normal child (NO, I wasn’t normal in any way) it would create unnecessary fear of things that do not exist.

One fine day God really did hit me personally for being naughty. Don’t call me a liar and stop reading .. you have to read till the end.
This is how it happened. My sister always preferred to have the table fan running on high speed, because she always felt hot, on the contrary, I felt very cold most of the time. We fought every night before one of us would give in and fall asleep. One day when no one was around I decided to cut the wire of the table fan so that she could not run it that night. I took a blade and started cutting the wire, but in a second someone hit me very hard on my head and I fell hard on the wall. I was alone and there was no one around. I was terrified and scared. I had to believe that my elders were right and at times God does intervene with us. So I was a golden child for 2 years, until we had lesson about electricity. It suddenly flashed in my mind that on that particular day I had received an electric shock when the insulation was cut through and the metal blade had touched the wire. All of sudden everybody who had said ‘God will punish you’ looked very stupid. All of a sudden God was the creation of ignorant people in my life; I became an atheist, and remained so for many years. Finally while studying science again I decided there is a super being to have everything so perfectly balanced. Life has changed and I am destined to believe in God, but I am not pious or religious anymore. I do feel that if I had not been told lot of lies in my childhood, I would not have ended up like what I am now. Not that I would be any better but I am sure I would be different. After the discovery of the truth, the golden child who was afraid of God had suddenly felt smarter and superior to those who believed in lies. My mom who was glad that finally God had answered her prayers was perplexed. You can imagine the plight of family when I had gone through the phase of being the intelligent child finding out the elders were uneducated stupid people.

I have learned a lesson there. Let us never scare our children or try to control them with imaginary things. They will think we are fools when they find out the truth about it. Let us be reasonable in what we say to the children. Trust me, it works. Also parents have to agree to the fact that children today are the experts on fashions, music, TV, and movies. At least most of them are. We usually find mothers asking even a tiny tot, about sending a sms message, or inserting a DVD in player. Kids are fast nowadays. Let us appreciate their knowledge and intelligence and talk to them sensibly. Keep the communication going on so that we can eradicate something called generation gap. Learn from them so that you can build up their confidence. My son taught me to work with paint and photoshop to create my own images for blog. Ask them what music groups are popular and what their songs are about. Often, with changing times the tastes of music, movies, and games will be different. When I first heard my son listening to Chester Bennington screaming his lungs out, I was horrified as to what kind of kid I had begotten. But I kept my promise of being fair and allowing him to live his life. The controlling parent in me said it could harm him, his ear drums would be damaged, he could get into depression because hard rock can cause it and also it may lead to heart problems. I shut that parent up and talked to Rayyan, as to what made him think those songs were good. He is a smart child who will not rebel or defend his likes, but, calmly explain the positive points of his likes. He made me hear one of the songs and told me to listen to it carefully without being prejudiced, and also to try to understand the lyrics. Initially I did it only to give him a chance of being right in his choice of music, but honestly I loved the song ‘Numb’ so much that I have become a fan of Chester Bennington and LP now.

Parents should not make an issue with what their children have to like. Give them their choice. You have to interfere for sure when you think the situation is going to harm the child in anyway. We need to keep our children safe at any cost.

We have to work towards becoming better parents because we are not replaceable. Even if the child gets adopted or is put under someone’s care, I feel that a child can relate to only one person as a mother and father for whole life; the two people the child will look up to for becoming a better person. Let us not let our children down.

A poster I made for a Workshop on Parenting Skills

Are You Being Watched?

2012-03-07T14:40:00.000+05:30

I never feel that somebody's watching me .. but Someone Does!
Remember the movie “Enemy of the state”? It left a bad taste in my mouth, where a person may not know he/she is being watched, but their every activity is noted and recorded.

Never imagined this would happen to me. Me and my assumptions, Sigh!

I am being watched by not high technology military surveillance, NO. I am not that important; neither in positive or negative way. It is my daughter, my own child, who watches me, listens to me and brings up the topic when I least want to hear about it.
I may hear a woman shouting at the kid and say, “How can a mom shout at her kid like that as though she is not her own?” in a kind of disgusting mumbling to myself way and forget all about it; until, my daughter does something to prick my anger. Even before I can get two words out of my mouth, she asks me whether she is my own kid or not, because I have already said moms do not shout at their own kids. Her language is not clear like the sentence I have written there, child is a poo in her language and the sentence comes in short, due to missing tough words. It gives the whole drama a touch of innocence and I have to let her go, what else could I do? I have dug my own pit hole to fall into.

There have been various such pits I have dug and fallen into so often. Though with special needs, Farheena is a smart girl and knows which situation can be taken advantage of. She has the elephantine memory to recall events which had happened years ago. She remembers what I had to tell about a certain situation, what promises I have made, etc in an unlimited data storage space, which has fast access whenever she needs it.

She demands equal time of uninterrupted talk time from me, as much as I talk to Rayyan over the phone without being interrupted. “You cannot treat me different just because I am with you” is her point of argument.

Recently she had a haircut because her aunt (my sister) said so. I know she loves long hair, I too love her hair. It was not cut very short but the style in the front looked horrible. I am not even going to post pictures of it until it grows a bit more. I couldn't stop grumbling at her for having her hair cut to please her aunt, any way I was grumpy with my surgery which made it easy being grumpy Mom. Finally after a while, she said it is enough, I don't want to hear about my hair. If you loved your kid she would look cute to you in any hair style. That shut me up. :(

Yesterday, I was talking to my sister in law about the fall my very loving nephew Shuraim had. He was playing out late and she was very upset with him. She was waiting with a stick in her hand, and it was then that he walked in bleeding profusely from a fall. So off she had to rush to the doctor with him. I told her it was Gods way of reminding us that kids are precious and we should not hurt them. It is your own idea of punishing the child which may have led to this.. that wasn’t serious. We were pulling each other’s leg over this for some time. My daughter was busy on facebook, whew! After two hours she comes up with an idea, that if she does something wrong, I should only think of punishing her and not actually punish her. If God feels she is wrong, than he will punish her and if nothing happens like she doesn't has a fall or something, than it is my mistake and she should be forgiven. "When did I say that?" I asked perplexed. "You said that to aunt just a while ago on phone". I am very sure that I did not say that. But she is standing firm on that argument. That was confusing and I don’t know yet what I have got myself into in a way of chiding my sister in law in a funny way. Patience is what I need now to see the outcome of what I have said.. Why do I forget I am being watched?

I Used to Paint..

2012-03-03T22:10:00.001+05:30

I shared a picture of me working on a painting on my blog. Many asked me what I was painting and I just found the paintings that I was working on back then... Amazing. 4 of them. That was a surprise

Journey From Lego to Let's Go....

2012-03-01T09:52:00.000+05:30

Burning in sun, soaking in rain
and taking long walks.
Unprotected natural life

It was protected indoor life of Lego,
art, and TV

From Lego

To

Lets Go

It was a happy occasion for my family, and the celebrations did not seem to end when Rayyan came as baby into our babyless life of eighteen long years. He was the precious, fragile and loved child, who everyone wanted to protect from the harsh world. Thinking back I realize now that everybody went overboard with his care other than me. Two aunts, uncle, grandma and grandpa were a big army for a mom to fight with, so I gave up and did as they wished most of the time. He was never left alone or unattended even for a short time. The fuss they made over him was nauseating but the love my family had for him looked so nice and beautiful.

He grew up being much protected, without much exposure to outdoor games, independence and outings. His world consisted of going out with one of my family members, playing games with Lego toys, watching cartoons or drawing. He was very much interested in cycling but was not allowed to go far all alone. He had to go circles around our home when someone kept an eye on him from terrace.

I believe in keeping children close to nature and giving them independence. I was very unhappy with what was happening with Rayyan, but it was tough to argue with my family. All I could do was take him for long walks in the evenings or occasionally in the morning. Even when Farheena was born 4 years later, I did not stop the walks. We would put her in a stroller and take her along with us.

At the age of 11, Rayyan was still treated like a baby and not allowed any independence. But as for life, it underwent lots of changes, with business loss, loss of my sister, misunderstanding in family, issues regarding moral upbringing of Rayyan and many more negative happenings taking place. I stood at cross roads then; I could either live with my family or shift for independent living in Byndoor. I could not manage to live independently in Bangalore for financial reason; in addition I would again be monitored by my family on the upbringing of my children. As I saw Rayyan watching his 3^rd cartoon in succession, I decided it was time I took the reins in my hand. I knew it was going to be a big heart break for everyone, but then sometimes life takes control of us for good. So, with a heavy heart, I decided to shift to Byndoor from Bangalore. Before leaving Bangalore, I assured Rayyan and Farheena that, if anything went wrong or they could not adjust to the life in Byndoor, then I will bring them back the day they ask me to.

First day in school, Rayyan came back home and could not stop talking about how active and strong the kids in his school were. Without much physical activities, he looked so small compared to his classmates. I explained to Rayyan that these children have grown up in natures lap. Their town was surrounded by water and trees. Belonging to their roots, they are much healthier than the city children. Also the food they eat was fresh and natural.

I never thought of buying a TV in my new setting. I knew we would miss it for a few days but soon would get adjusted to the life without TV. I got computer for my children (and off course me) instead. This has been the wisest decision I have made so far in my life.

In the new setup it was life full of outdoor activities, fun and adventure for my children. The Someshwara Beach which is just 3 kms from my home, become a weekly picnic spot for a gang of children I had collected to have fun. Farheena and Rayyan looked forward to the beach visits every Friday.

As moms did not do shopping and dads were working in gulf, children in Byndoor were smart shoppers. Rayyan slowly befriended some of them and started shopping for me. I nearly had panic attacks when he visited the weekly market for buying vegetables. He could come back with a live fish, chicks or kitten to keep as a pet.

One day Rayyan decided he would start running in the morning. He found his sports shoes, got his tracksuit ready and had the alarm set for 6 a.m. He was up before 6 and was ready to go when I was opening my eyes. “Bye Maa, see in one hour”, he said and rushed out in all enthusiasm. 2 minutes later I heard dogs barking, a child shrieking and 3 minutes later Rayyan came back running all muddy. I was cruel Mom who burst out laughing before checking whether he was all right. Sorry! The dogs who were not used to people running in the morning had assumed he was a thief and attacked him. When he tried to turn back he had a fall and then he had rushed back as soon as possible. Thank God the dogs did not reach him.

Enjoying the monsoons

Rayyans Activities in Byndoor

Enjoying natural rivers and streams

Exploring wild paths

So the idea was running was given up but Rayyan had found new freedom and the morning weather was inviting him to play in its lap. He found a solution and started cycling around with his friend who sold milk in the neighborhood. He would start early in the morning and come back before 7 a.m. My mom would have had a heart attack if she knew her precious grandson was roaming about on the roads of Byndoor so early in morning, but it was good for Rayyan.

He started getting stronger and healthier with each passing day.

Slowly he made friends with kids who could join him on long hikes on the nearby mountains.
Initially the kids were scared and lazy, but as the number of kids increased, not many could resist the fun and adventure. They were not afraid to explore unknown places, mountains or deserted place anymore.

He also started having fun in a small pool nearby to our home, which has been a source swimming lessons to the kids of this neighborhood from time unknown. My dad had learned swimming there too. He started loving his time in water so much that he was nicknamed water snake.

Rayyan's friends under my bed..

Another hobby was raising chicken though not for sale or food but as friends. He did not even call them pets LOL.

It has been the same with Farheena. Generally she is very healthy child who doesn’t go through regular colds, fevers or other such illness. Even if she has a small bout of it, she overcomes it without much medication like Rayyan.

The Someshwara Beach had become a part of our life and it will always remain so, no matter where we go. The children who gave us company and shared the wonderful time have grown up and gone their own way, including Rayyan who is doing his animation in Bangalore. All of them often recall the happy times they have spent on the beach. The pictures should tell you in a better way all about the fun we had on the beach.

I was in a dilemma when Rayyan would go around cycling in unknown places all alone. Not many had his stamina and enthusiasm for long rides. Hence, at times he decided to go few places all alone. I was afraid of his safety but had no heart to deprive him of what he loved the most.

Soaked and dirty after
a game of football

Rayyan planning his activities
for holiday

So from the lap of Lego and TV Rayyan flew freely in the lap of nature around our village. It was no more Maa lets play lego but Maa lets go. Soaking himself in the rain, playing badminton, kicking the football, skateboarding, rollerblading, swimming and cycling gave Rayyan the immunity so strong, that he hasn’t needed a doctor for years now; other than for two cuts which required stitches and his myopia. It is really hard to believe that he is the same child who used to be sick for at least 110 days a year. Who would believe that a child who fell sick even with utter care taken by his grandparents, who had his nappies and all clothes ironed to kill germs, gave him only bottled water, cooked his food keeping hygiene in mind and taking every known and unknown precautions to keep him healthy, would achieve that naturally in the lap of nature.

Tarzan or what? Rayyan had great fascination for trees like the monkeys... Climbing and sitting on trees was one of his favorite pastimes.

This is my own Kissanpur story written for the Get Real contest on Indiblogger... a 100% real authentic and natural experiences of upbringing a child in the lap of nature.

I hope Rayyan will post more pictures about his adventures and life on his newly created blog
The Animator

A Girl with Brown Eyes on Her Back

2012-02-28T14:44:00.001+05:30

Could a greater miracle take place than for us to look through each other's eyes for an instant?
Henry David Thoreau

When we were touring USA and staying with my friend Paula for four months, Farheena was very much influenced by the Americans. She wanted to be one of them first by changing her appearance and then her attitude. Now one thing missing from her style of imitation was the wedding ring all my married friends wore. Most of them had one special finger ring and Farheena started pestering me for one.

Finally we decided to get her one and off we went with Paula to a mall, shopping for a perfect ring for Farheena. I had limited budget and had to get something for her in that. What came within my budget did not look very special to Farheena and so she kept moving from counter to counter choosing finger rings which were way beyond my budget. I was distracted by something and when I looked back I found her standing still in her tracks staring a young lady in 20’s who was shopping for kids items nearby. Farheena doesn’t like people staring at her; neither does she stare at people. This was odd. I told her in a whisper not to stare at people like that, because that was rude. Anyway, I could not see any reason for Farheena to stare at her either. Farheena whispered back a bit loudly saying eyes… eyes …eyes...

The young lady turned towards me and smiled. I was feeling quite embarrassed thinking that, maybe she knows Farheena is staring at her and even talking about her. I was giving her a smile back, when Paula came back to join us from nowhere. The girl walked up to me and told me that she has been observing Farheena for sometime now, as she found her very attractive. Her innocence had captured her heart. I was relieved that she was not offended and told her that Farheena never stares at people, but something about her had caught her attention. She laughed out loud and told me that must be the two eyes she had on her back which Farheena had seen. I was taken aback and so was Paula, when she quickly turned her back to us and we found being stared at by two eyes on her back just below the nape of her neck. It took us some time to realize that those were real looking tattoos of brown eyes. Paula and I stood stunned as her back stared at us. It was as though the eyes were real and watching us. That was the most amazing tattoo I have ever seen. Even Paula, the tattoo hater, was quite impressed with it.

She wanted to know about Farheena and we wanted to know about her. All four of us moved to a corner and started sharing our stories. When Paula is around she does the most and starts talking even before our lips can part. She told her about how we connected through breast cancer support board, the story of our dream visit of USA, the miracle of everything falling in places and many such stories.

Taysha, the girl with brown eyes on her face and back, said that the tattoo on her back was done by her when she was cheated by her boyfriend when she was pregnant with his child at the age of 17. It reminded her to watch out for those who cheated her behind her back. Once bitten always shy. Like every dark cloud having a silver lining, her child was a blessing for her. She went through some illness 3 years later which meant she could not conceive again. Paula and I were very much touched by her story and we had to fight hard to control our tears. She had gone through so much at very young age. She said she was wondering if a girl like her could be taken for a ride so easily, how Farheena could be safe in this world. How could she know the good from the bad?

When God or Nature or whatever takes one thing from you, then it compensates it with something other. Farheena being a special needs child has this ability to know good and bad people. In the past few years I have learned to accept her gut feeling more than my gut feeling, my brain, my experience or my heart. She keeps away from people who may hurt her and at times tells me she doesn’t want to be with someone or someplace as she feels it is not safe for her. I quickly take steps to keep her away from that and so far I do not even know whether she is right or wrong. I don’t want to find out she is right either.

I was discussing this with Taysha when all of sudden she removed a ring from her finger and handed it to Farheena. I and Paula both stopped her telling that we will find a ring for her. She told us it was not easy to find a perfect ring for Farheena because she was special and deserved something very special. The ring she was giving her was very close to her heart, but she hesitated to tell us more. She made Farheena promise that she would take care of it and not lose it ever. I and Paula were not comfortable with a stranger giving a special gift to Farheena. Paula whispered that we should pay her in some way. We decided to take her address and get in touch with her later.

She was walking away after giving a big hug with tears in her eyes when Paula asked her for her phone number. She wrote down her email ID in my phonebook and gave it to Paula telling her that she would give her number over the mail later. We said goodbye to her and brought the now satisfied Farheena back home. Farheena was very happy with the gift she got, because she had found love and affection from a person not known to her earlier.

Though I do not use the phone book much, I cannot bring
myself to throw away her writing...

When we tried to get in touch with Taysha through her email, it bounced back. I feel she did not want us to pay her back in any way, which is why she avoided giving us her contact info.

I had met many wonderful people in USA who have left a permanent impression one me, but they were not strangers. They were friends who were like a family to me. The four months we spent in USA has been the most remarkable period of our life with lots of fun, parties and meeting friends. It is amazing how a young woman stands out in my memory among all this marvelous events. I had barely seen her for more than an hour. Farheena thinks of her often, and keeps the ring safe after one bad experience of losing it for a short time. With people being divided by religion, colors, attitudes, beliefs, boundaries, languages etc, it is wonderful how people also connect and bond with each other so easily. I have learned something from the girl with brown eyes on her back and that makes me worry less about Farheena’s life after me, because I realize there are people who can love her unconditionally, unselfishly and without expectation in this big bad world.

Farheena's gift of the golden ring with the word 'LOVE' engraved in a heart.

This article is written as part of the contest organized on IndiBlogger by Travel Around the World with Expedia

You Have Got It All Wrong -

2012-02-26T13:08:00.000+05:30

Thank you Blogadda

You have got it all wrong ....

Statutory warning: Keep away if you hate narcissism

Some discussions on my blog comment had me thinking and evaluating myself. Going through my illness and laying on the hospital I had nothing much to do, so I got my brain working.

“Why do you bother about what others say?” you may ask. Hmmm… Yeah! I am one of those people who think about crap before flushing it off. Anyway, I noticed an odd trend when people say they respect me or applaud me. It is all for the wrong reason. Most of them respect me and applaud me for surviving cancer, when they should be applauding my doctor for having done a great job on me. Did I have a choice and fight for someone else? Did I fight for a noble cause? Did I fight for world peace? No. I fought cancer and survived because I was greedy for life, I wanted to be with my kids. I couldn't leave them behind and die. There, I was totally selfish and greedy, but people respect and applaud me for being a survivor for 15 years now.

Not many may know that I feel a sense of guilt at times for having survived, when I have lost my dear ones to the monster. Like the question, ‘why me?’ I often do ask, ‘why not me?’ I did what anyone would do, maybe I did it in a bit of style by choosing the right response, at a young age of 29, with two small kids; but I did what anyone with cancer would do. Fight the monster to save my life and be with my loved ones. Why should somebody applaud me for that? You say the attitude and will power etc etc but that is not a big deal.

Coming to Farheena, she is my only daughter. I am loving person towards kids, so naturally I love her. I love to talk about her, tell people how special needs people are really special in many ways. She has touched my life in the most unique way, given me a special vision to look at the world. There is nothing special when I love her. She is lovable kid and most of the people who have been touched by her, love her. There is nothing you have to respect or applaud me for being a good Mom. There are only good moms in this world, if they are not good then they are not moms.

I don’t say you have to disrespect me people. That is not my horrible intention at all. I want you to stand up and applaud me as loud as possible for my real great achievements. Actually what follows in this blog could end up as height of self-admiration of a woman for herself, but Ahem! Here I start my real deserving list of achievements.

Though I am living in a village, where you cannot tell one woman from other, when they belong to my community, I have made a mark for myself. Yes, I do walk around here totally covered with my black robe, where you see only my eyes. I was commonly addressed as ‘Bibi’ when I visited offices, hospitals or any public place. The darkness is strong enough to overwhelm people and swallow them whole as a python. I haven’t allowed the shadow of my cloak to overshadow me, I have found light and shone my colors through it. It may have swallowed many people like me, but I have escaped it clutches and I have discovered the real me. I am not a Bibi anymore for the people. It is hard, it is dangerous and it takes a lot to hurt your own people, especially when you love them. It is tough to question what everyone around you believes in. I had the courage to do it. I am brave enough to stand up and say what I really am. Not until you are there will you know, how it feels to be an ugly duckling among the chickens.

I have never allowed anyone to treat my daughter differently or without respect. I have been strong and fought to get her the love and respect she deserves. No one dares to fool around or mess with her. Bringing out this kind of behavior from people who were not used to it is something I have achieved.

From a small depleted house, sitting in my small room, where my tall brother cannot stretch himself, I reach out to the world. I have fallen down only to get up with more vehemence. When everything was fading away in my life, I picked up the leftovers and started to prepare a new dish to relish. I reached up and caught the rainbow of my dream – pursuing my education again at the age of 44.

It is not easy at my age to sit down like a school kid, prepare notes and study for the exams. What with children, house work and my health issues distracting me. But I did. I studied hard enough to score first class passing marks in my first two years of graduation, and, the jewel in the crown was my scoring 92% marks in Psychology. It is something when you do that with your chemo brain. My brain is not what it used to be in school days, where I could memorize pages within hours.

I have learned everything about internet and computers, surrounded by the walls of my room. All the help I got, was an instruction on how to switch on a computer. Today, I am kind of computer repair person. I can almost fix my computer all by myself.

My blog is something I feel proud about again. It is not easy to share your problems, miseries with the world. Some say, pouring my heart out on the blog can take away my pain. Only those who haven’t lost a breast, been worried about the future of their child, lost dear ones to cancer or suffered as me can say that. Easing pain is not that easy. Even if I write thousand of blogs and millions will read it, the problems and pain will stay. When I was supposed to be quite and walk in shadows, I dared to go ahead and share a part of me with the whole world. I received a lot of flak for posting my personal details, pictures and other information on my blog, but I decided to live my life my own way. It is not tough when you are independent financially and healthy person. For me, being a rebel meant a great risk. I don’t have a job that could support me, neither am I highly educated, I fear recurrence which looms on my head all the time and I am responsible for my daughter. These restrictions were pulling me strongly towards the gutter where I could lie, rot and be lost without trace after a few years. I have decided to jump in and check the depth of the well. This is something I would pat my back for if I could just reach it….

Win= Sin? Wrong again. When I win, be it a blogging or any other competition, you need to realize it could be a small victory for me, but a great victory for those women who are lost in the shadows. When, a housewife, uneducated woman competes with great writers, geeks and wins blogging contest, you should stand up and applaud and show some respect, but I find people reacting differently to this so often. My problems, my disabilities do hold me back; distract me when I sit down to write a blog. Yet I do not allow my mind to wander in gloom and doom. I get it to work.

This is what belongs to ‘me’; this is what I have achieved. Not my survival of cancer. That is where I have been lucky. I share and brag about my cancer survival so that others would realize cancer doesn't mean death. It doesn't control your life. I wish to spread hope of the survival.  I wish someone would really appreciate me for the right reason sometime.

Can We Ever Say, “I Can Quit Now”?

2012-02-21T21:29:00.000+05:30

Tired but feeling better ....

Add caption

Fifteen years ago, when I was waiting for the Biopsy reports of the lump I had found in my left breast, I was worried leaving behind my children and dying. Unfortunately, it turned out positive for breast cancer, III stage, and 10 positive nodes. With treatment which involved surgery and chemotherapy I survived.

8 years later I went through another scare of recurrence with a scar tissue hardening up on my operated site. My children had grown up by then, but the fear of leaving them behind and dying still lingered in my mind. I did not discuss it with them and they did not know anything about this. The reports came back saying it is negative for cancer.

13 years later, a lump was found in my right breast and I worried again about leaving behind my children who were teens now. They did not know much about it because again I thought let me find out first and then let them know. It turned out benign.

Last month, a polyp was seen in my digestive system. Doctors said it looks sinister and should be removed to be sent for testing immediately. Could it be cancer, the fear came back again, to my surprise again I found myself being worried about my two kids, ooopppsss sorry, they are grown up young people now. So correction, I found myself worrying about my youngsters again. Rayyan is not even living with me anymore, as he is doing his animation in Bangalore and staying in a PG. Farheena is still the same kid and needs me and that doesn’t seem to change ever.

I did some introspection and checked out myself; whether I was just holding on to the kids as a reason for my own instinct to survive and live. We humans are known for our eternal quest for long life and eternal youth since ages. Somehow I feel it is the kids who are motivating me to fight better.

Both Rayyan and Farheena responded in two different ways to my hospital experience.

Farheena was very nervous and on the edge most of the time. Every time I coughed, sneezed or even turned to change sides while sleeping, she would ask, “What happened Maa?” It was sad to see her worry so much. She did not sleep the whole night prior to my surgery. Whenever she heard a tiny sound from my side, she would be alert and wanting to know whether I was all right. The hospital must have scared her a little more. With no option left this time around, I had to take both of them with me to the hospital.

Rayyan on the other hand, was the rock of support for both of us. He had a storm churning inside him, I could sense his concern and worry but he tried very hard not to show it to anyone. He took great care of Farheena and was there handy for me whenever I needed something. He never asked anything or talked about anything. But if I had to say something he was all ears and listening without throwing much advice.

Both their response wrung my heart. I think they suffered more than me all through this ordeal. The way things are going nothing seems to be changing soon. So maybe for years and years to come I will say the same thing, I am afraid to leave behind my kids and die. I don’t see when I will ever be ready to quit.

I say may be it will be good enough when Rayyan is married and settled down with his family, but then I may find some other excuse. Life is never going to be smooth and I would want to be there to clear bumps for my children even when they are sprouting grey hairs. We can never say ‘I am ready to quit now’. That is human nature.

I finally sat down today morning and thanked God for the life he had granted me after my BC experience. It thanked him for allowing me in bringing up my kids up the way I wanted them to be brought up; keeping them away from violent behavior, bad habits, swearing words, addictions and narrow mentality. I wanted them to be kind, gentle and humane in their life and they are. The time I spent with them has been wonderful and they have made me very happy.

I thanked God for allowing me to get closer to myself and know, understand and discover the person I am meant to be in a better way. Today I see myself as a much better human than I was during my pre cancer days. I thanked God for allowing me a chance to correct and improve myself.

I may not say I am going to quit now but I can be strong enough to face life or death without complaints anymore. If I go on finding reasons to complain than I am going to have it always handy forever. No matter what happens, it will never be enough. Somewhere I have to stop and be grateful for what I have received in that past few years.

I am glad I did not make a drama of being sick and waiting for reports like Ekta Kapoor made Priya do in Bade Acche Laggte Hain recently. Because I got a pat on the back (very rare thing) from Farheena, who said, “Maa you are much better than Priya who was so scared to go and collect her report. You were so cool about it”. LOL

Wonder how come I talk about TV serials without having a TV at home? I was hooked to KBC and connected to it through internet. This serial plays right after it and Farheena got hooked to it. Farheena loves watching Priya and Ram Kapoor, therefore I do watch it with her in between. She loves to watch the antics of Sheldon in ‘The Big Bang Show’ too, that I love watching along with her. Anyway Farheena made me realize that cancer or survival of it is not as glamorous as media shows us. In real life there is silent suffering. Not the wish list and people waiting to fulfill it. Sigh!

PS: A note to all bloggers who tagged me in awards or some other activity. I am sorry that my brain was not good enough to respond to your honor. I was exhausted and tired. Still recovering but I think I can occasionally write a post and read few at the moment. Sorry Guys.

The Animator: Name Game..

2012-02-17T22:22:00.000+05:30

This is the beginning of the blogging journey for Rayyan. Wish you all the best.

The Animator: Name Game..:

Having fun playing around with Photoshop CS4, premiere pro CS4 and sound forge !!!!!

Hidden Human Nature ..

2012-02-14T23:10:00.002+05:30

The good news is that my reports came back negative for cancer. Whew!!!! My son has been a wonderful support all through my terrible scary journey of going through the treatment and wait for the reports. My daughter was worried and needed him by her side. The surgery has taken its toll and I am still unable to spend more time typing my blogs, so I am sharing something which I had posted earlier.

I know it is such a torture to read lengthy poetry work, but this is something very close to my heart, and today I feel like sharing it with you people once again. I usually write something very short but one day this just came out of blue when I heard my brother-in-law was getting remarried after he lost my sister to breast cancer.

I asked myself the questions,

Is all the love and care people show for us true?

How would people react to death if no one was looking over?

How long do we pine for those we know are never going to come back?

There were hoards of questions flooding through my mind and as an answer I went on scribbling something on the notebook I had in my hands. When I read it, I was shocked to see I had come out with a story poem which touched my heart…

Hidden Human Nature

Once upon a time, there lived a kind and just king

Everyone loved him; his praise they would sing

With his two sons and his beautiful wife

He was very happy and content with life

One morning, while riding his horse, a tragedy struck

He fell from his horse and was dead by sheer bad luck

The angels took away his soul as written in the record

To decide about his future they presented him before the Lord

With one glance at his pure heart the Almighty could tell

He belonged to the heaven and not to the hell

Yet drops and drops of tears rolled down from the king's eyes

God realized though good, the king was not wise

"My son, you weep because, you are not smart

Don't weep, very unreliable is human heart

Try to forget the past days, try to push the memories away

In this heaven where you don't die, you can forever happily stay"

Slowly the king whispered "I know my Lord, what I lack.

Where I am loved by everyone; there, I want to go back

My brave commander, wisest of all men my minister

They are all dutiful; nothing in my life is sinister

Everyone loves me dearly. In turn I love them all

My sons are obedient and are always at my beck and call

My queens fidelity my Lord, could surpass that of Penelope

More happiness than this to find, I can never even hope

I need no heaven now or anytime hereafter

Happy I am in my kingdom, whatever is the matter

‘O' Father, send me there where everyone loves me

If not, I assure you broken my heart would be"

God did not wish to break his heart, for good hearts are rare

Yet by his own rules he couldn't send him back there

Said God, "Once dead no one can go back dear son,

Yet I will send you back, though now you can't be seen or heard by anyone

Because you will receive your body only after three days

Till then you will be hiding and watching how everyone behaves

But if you fill find out sadly that people are selfish

You can come back to me anytime with your mere wish."

Two angels brought back to earth the now smiling King

There he had to watch, over his funeral his dear ones mourning

"Don't weep darlings," he said "this death is just illusion

Wait for just three days and there will be no more confusion"

No one could hear nor see their beloved King

They sobbed bitterly over the most tragic happening

Each and everyone was only talking about the King's death

They hated to be alive and cursed their every breath

One look at their face and even the silliest could tell

Since morning no one had gulped even a single morsel

The King's heart was touched deeply seeing all the love

He strongly decided once again, I will not go to heaven above

Thinking of his friendly minister the King came to where he lived

The ghastly sight that met his eyes had to be seen to be believed

His dear friend held tightly in his hand a very sharp knife

His bodyguards were putting in every effort to save his life

"Don't kill yourself," cried the King "O my dearest friend.

This is just a passing phase, believe me this is not the end."

The minister who was exhausted just slumped down

His children wept and his wife sat there fanning him with tip of her gown

‘What is my commander doing?' questioned the King in wonder

When he found sobbing and weeping his brave strong commander

Pointing towards sky the brave one let out a loud cry

"If you had to take a life our King's life ..... WHY?

In his place could you not push me into the grave?"

He banged his head and wept. He was no more ‘The Brave’.

The King's burning soul now cried for some solace

So he decided it was time to visit his palace

All the servants there stood still, all of them were silent

Not a sound could be heard, save a sigh and a lament

His two children were crying in the their own chambers

All consoling and cajoling only fuelled the embers

As tears trickled down they did not bother to wipe it either

Just under their breath they whispered, "Father! Dear father!"

It was too much for the King to suffer without being heard or seen

He wanted to find some consolation in his dear beloved queen

He found her laying still and shocked, on the cozy bed

Two faithful maidens stood wiping tears from the eyes ruby red

Looking at his queen's state the King bitterly cried

"Why are your luscious lips now parched and dried?

O dear! My beloved, like dead why do you sleep?

Why is your perfect hair disheveled and why your breaths so deep?

O my dearest, I am here. Only I cannot be seen."

He tried to talk but failed to console his beloved queen.

Suddenly the queen moved and she got up with a start

And let out a heart rending cry clasping her heart

"My beloved! MY love! My King! Where are you?

They say you are dead. How can this be true?

Life without you is worse than death, how can I bear this pain!"

Uttering those words she wept bitterly and fainted again.

Her maids discussed that it was the routine since morning

Anxiety rose in them and soon the doctor was called in

Absent minded the doctor gave some medicine which would help

The doctor like usual was not his jovial self

The King never had known, his queen loved him so much

He caressed her head though she did not feel his touch

Unable to move from her side he sat beside her on the bed

Cruel it was he couldn't console anyone by showing he was not dead

After a long time the queen slowly started stirring

"I want to be alone with the memories and thoughts of my King".

Saying so she sent away the maids and closed the door

Then she sat, biting her lips and her toe scratching the floor

The King feared there may be some danger to his beloved wife

He thought she was planning of putting an end to her worthless life

No one was around in the room or anywhere nearby on the cold, silent and dark night

When suddenly through the secret door of the chamber there arrived a light

Holding lamp in its hands slowly and steadily a shadow rocked

Peering at it the King saw his minister and he was totally shocked

‘What is he doing here?' thought the king ‘at this time of night'

Suddenly the queen rushed past the wondering King shouting with delight

She embraced and kissed the lips of her lover her dear minister

They whispered lovingly not knowing they had a visitor

"At last after many years, now we have become free'.

The King could neither weep nor laugh at this sadistic mockery

He was aghast seeing the naked form of love and friendship

His heart was burning as though it was scorched by thorny whip

He heard the queen planning of marrying as she could not be alone

‘Soon' she said the king of her heart would sit on the throne

This infidelity, this licentious treachery, the king could bear no more

He ran towards his son's chamber with a heart bitter and sore

There he was amazed to find their tongues and swords on full swing

They were fighting to decide, who would be the future king

Their faces were fierce. Of sorrow there was now no trace

The heart broken king had an urge to get out of that horrid palace

He realized in a hard way there is no value for human relation

For his burning soul he did not know where to find some consolation

On his way out he heard some low whispering sound

He followed it and all his servants discussing he found

They were discussing on his death rites what would be their share

The king heard them and moved ahead without much care

His commander-in-chief with army officials sat around a table

And announced "As the King is dead, the government is not stable

This is the proper time for coup; soon I will grab the power

When the crown is mine, on all of you, wealth I will shower".

Thus found the king his commander and his men of troupe

Not mourning anymore but scheming and planning for a coup

The King left that place even sadder than before

He thought to himself ‘why men are so rotten to the core?'

‘Yet everything is not lost' said to himself the poor King

‘My subjects still love me, my praises they still sing'

More sorrows awaited him as he observed them one by one

True love for him he could find in the heart of none

He then saw the beloved subjects who were now muttering and grumbling

And for the trouble caused they were even cursing the King

Now inside their homes making sure no one could hear them they said

"Is it our fault? Is it our problem that the king is dead?

We had to be starved and famished since today morning

If not others would accuse us of not loving our king

Everyone losing a day’s happiness was burning in anger

In the cover of darkness they were busy killing pangs of hunger

The King saw the bitter truth. Everyone in his life was a fraud

Losing his battle in a single day he sadly returned to God

"No more my Father", said the king, "I will suffer in this turmoil,

I thank you heartily for freeing me from this terrible mortal coil

Until now I thought everyone to me were duty bound

I am amazed and sad by the truth which today I found

No one cares for others vicissitudes nor are their actions just

All men and women are busy consoling their burning lust

Children need parents when are to be cared and fed

They care not a fig for parents when they learn they are dead

Everyone there My Lord I found so greedy and selfish

I wished to go back to them? I am very foolish

What I now realize is that all the love I felt back on earth

Was just a great drama without any real worth?

The world down there is very unkind and cruel

Happy I will be in heaven or even in a Hell

But never will I go back to my kingdom again

One meeting with the naked truth has given me enough pain".

Saying thus with shame the King hung his head down

The ever smiling God looked at him with a deep frown

"I created Man with great care and perfected his every part

But somehow I feel I went wrong when creating his heart

Its feelings were so selfish I had to hide it in his chest

Of all the gifts I have given to man this is the best

I had to give them power to lie, pretend and act

To lessen their selfish hearts acidic impact

To live with naked truth Man has not enough power

So the true faces I have hid behind a pleasant cover

Yet, you hate none, dear son; you are truly brave and strong

I should be ashamed for it is my children who have done wrong".

To take the King to heaven for angels God sent call

And sat there alone wondering ‘WHY I created man after all…..'

Farida Rizwan

Life Is So Unpredictable...

2012-02-03T19:07:00.000+05:30

Life is so unpredictable! So what is new about it you may ask? The new thing is, I can blog about it ;).

My son Rayyan came home for a week... I had big plans for us. First I went down with viral infection; which instantly degraded Rayyan from being the precious child on a visit home, to a ward boy. Poor thing! Later when I planned to visit our best friend; a precious girl who is like a daughter to me, married recently and living in her in-laws place, I decided to have a check up with my doctor on way because of constant pain in the lowest part of my abdomen. My doctor found a grape sized polyp which was looking sinister there. She was sure it should be taken out as soon as possible, especially since I have already been through cancer earlier. We had a little friendly discussion, (she is my doctor but also a good friend) whether I should wait till Rayyan leaves or have him there to be my caretaker after the surgery. She convinced me to do it when he was around.

I took leave from her because I wanted to finish what I started. So we went ahead to our friend’s house, spent some nice time there and then I got into the hospital. There is a lot to talk about my hospital experience and my hours in hell due to some minor duty lapse on behalf of the staff… but that is for later. Not fit enough to do full blogging yet. Keep me in your prayers because I am waiting for the report on the polyp. Hope it is benial and has nothing to do with cancer….

When in hospital I heard someone call a lousy person “YOU DONKEY” and I recalled something I had written back in my school days. Sharing one of my old poems with you.. hope no one will start arguing about this again …

THE DONKEY’S GRIEF

Once I saw a donkey, climbing a mountain in great speed

I wondered what had happened, and tried to inquire, but it did not heed

Perceiving there was something fishy going on, I followed it to the top

I saw the donkey ready to jump; unable to bear I shouted “STOP”

I asked, “Why are you dying ‘O’ donkey, though you are so wise?

Don’t you know committing suicide is an act of cowardice?”

The donkey wept bitterly and asked “How can you know my worry?

If you have patience to bear, I will tell you my story.

I have served my master all my life, with great love and care

Unlike his disobedient children who just roam here and there

But now whenever his children do something, which is not good

He calls them ‘You donkeys’, which is a disgrace to whole donkeyhood

How can I bear to hear him compare his bad children with me?

Instead of being compared with lousy humans, better dead I would be”

I had no words of comfort to say to this poor creature

But I resolved never to compare any human to animal in future.

Being a Mom - Part I

2012-01-23T10:07:00.001+05:30

One of the hundreds of loving moments which makes life worth living...

Little Rayyan

I am indebted to my children for returning my own self back to me. Few Memorable moments I have enjoyed with my loving children.

Having fun with costumes

Another childish behavior of Maa LOL

Annie enjoying Farheena's birthday cake

Annie wears flowers in her hair for the first time.

The beach dramas...

Rayyan being extremely excited about his paper hat

Picnics are more fun with children

Cooking is fun when you cook for your kids. Their smile pays with happiness

My Blog Review by Lucifer House Inc

2012-01-21T09:45:00.000+05:30

This is a well balanced and helpful review of my blog. If you like it get in touch with The Fool (Don't be fooled by that name ;) ) for a review. I have already implemented few of the tips given there and I feel it is giving out positive effects. Thank you The Fool.

Lucifer House Inc.: Chapters from my Life:
Long back, I remember reading a book called ‘What Katy did’. One bit of conversation from that book had somehow stuck to my mind when I had read it. There is a character called Cousin Helen who tells Katy on becoming bed ridden that she is now a student in the “School of Pain” where she will learn lessons in patience, cheerfulness, hopefulness, neatness and the making the best of things. This came back to my head unconsciously when I was going over the blog ‘Chapters from my Life’. The blogger seems to have learnt a lot in the very same “School of Pain” and she is kind enough to share the learning with all of us. Her writings reflect a deep understanding of the essence of life and the value of every single moment in life.

The blog appropriately titled ‘Chapter from my Life’ puts forth some chapters from the life of Farida Rizwan, an Indian rural house wife who has been through a lot of really tough circumstances in life and has emerged stronger for the same. In addition to personal experiences, she writes poetry and shares thoughts on family, relations and life in general, caring for children and on fighting cancer. She herself has lost more than one family member to the disease and has a special needs child she takes care of. But that by no means makes the blog just a cancer support or child care blog. A few posts may pertain specifically to these topics. But the general public at large can relate to and have some takeaways from most of her posts.

I would like to point out some of the things that fascinated me most about her writings. In her articles on relationships, she has structured her thoughts really well and exhibits an amazing clarity of thought. Her personal experience posts are really vivid and capture all the key events associated with a particular incident in her life and the associated emotions in an interesting narrative. Her poems are a real delight. They come straight from the heart and reach straight to the heart. No pretensions, no unnecessary words, no complications! Hers are poems even someone who does not care much for poems can easily relate to. One unique aspect of her posts is that she makes most of her own illustrations. Self made illustrations add more personal touch to the writings and connect better with the reader than images from Google.

Her back drop is a combination of light and dark blue with checks like a shirt. I feel it looks too austere like a hospital ward. Since she writes about the gloomy topic of cancer also (though with a positive frame of mind), I wish she would lighten the environment of her blog with something more cheerful in the background. As far as widgets go, some of the navigation widgets are nice but overall I get a crowded feeling with too many widgets. I am not sure if the advertisement widgets bring any revenue at all. The award badges are nice, but she has won so many contests and I am sure she will win many more. Maybe it will be nice to have separate static page to display the achievements instead of keeping them all on the side bar. The general badges pertaining to blogger sites that do not bring much traffic can be done away with or moved to a not so prominent location close to the blog footer.

Coming to my favorite topic of navigation, I must say she has put reasonable efforts in this area. There is a related posts widget and labels have been used as tabs to segregate different post categories other than the regular archives. Also there are in- post links to other posts where ever there is some connection. However navigation is an area where there is always scope for improvement. Using labels as tabs, makes it a bit inconvenient as reader has to scroll down 10-15 posts on a single page. Instead, having links to the posts on a static page with some small description can make it more visitor-friendly. In my opinion, a blog is not a news website but more a living book. So one must constantly be revisiting and reorganizing content. One can always change content in an earlier post as one gets fresh thoughts and also add links to a later post if found relevant. The ease of access must be same for a 3 years old post as a 1 day old post. In literature, personal, photo and most travel blogs content is not dated. So as more and more content is developed, a serious rethink is needed to classify and re-organize the content. In some ways it is very similar to how companies keep restructuring their organization as they grow in size.

One more thing I would suggest while organizing content is to segregate contest posts from regular posts. It has been my personal experience that regular readers of a blog do not appreciate contest posts, especially the ones with narrow guidelines or where one has to talk about a specific product unless the blog itself is a product review blog. So it will be convenient if regular readers have some mechanism by which they can easily identify contest posts and skip them if they do not want to read them.

In terms of interaction, in the older posts, the interaction level is quite low. But in the more recent posts, it is seen every comment is read and responded to. The volume of comments is also quite good. For this type of blog, I feel the comments are sufficient interaction. I don’t see the need for any specific section for general interaction as is the case of information blogs.

This would be classified as a personal blog in most directories. But I find the very concept of a personal blog an oxymoron. A blog is something public. And personal is opposite of public. A blog should be classified from the point of view of the reader and not the writer. If a blog has no utility to a reader, then it is just a personal diary or a rough book. In this context I would prefer to call this blog an inspirational or motivational blog rather than a personal blog. It is the place to go to if one is feeling down in the dumps and that life has not been fair. This blog would definitely help lift up one’s spirits. Chapters from Farida's life also offer one lot of lessons about life in general.

Find below a few samples from the blog.

Hidden Faces

Children are to be loved and protected

Man and Woman - What connects or disconnects them?

Trapped in a cocoon

Directly from the heart of a mom with a special needs child

I Hate Being Censored Because

2012-01-18T20:47:00.001+05:30

Lord Wiki is protesting against SOPA and PIPA. They have blacked out the English Wikipedia for 24 hours, beginning at midnight January 18, Eastern Time. Readers who came to English Wikipedia during the blackout were not able to read the encyclopedia. Instead, we saw messages intended to raise awareness about SOPA and PIPA, encouraging us to share your views with your representatives, and with each other on social media.

I have had enough of censorships in my life. For the beginning there was censorship in the name of my being handicapped, then came the censorship based on my gender, religion, status (being married woman) and many other factors; which entered my life and changed me into something which I was not meant to be. I found refuge in virtual world where I was free from these censorships, and could be myself; but, is that virtual life under threat too?

What do I hear? The internet is going to be censored in India also. Being technically blind, deaf and dumb, I cannot apprehend the issue on hand properly. But the news reports are enough to make even a simple internet user like me to understand, that this is going to be censorship of our freedom in the virtual world. Is another freedom fight on hand now against our own people? I hear that Aseem Trivedi’s website ‘Cartoon against corruption’ was taken down without even informing him. It was handled in a Hitlerian style. No court ruling was involved. So, if someone finds a website offensive it will be brought down just like that? Is there no need to decide whether the content of the website is really offensive or not? I thought internet was a place where you could access censored thoughts which cannot be expressed freely in reality. I first accessed internet to read Salman Rushdie’s Satanic verses. I was absolutely sure that the book is not going to corrupt me and I was right, it did not. My mind is strong and cannot be influenced by simple books. I loved having access to information that I censored for myself, because I am the best person to decide what I should read and what I shouldn’t.

Is our country so corrupt that it will fear cartoons making fun of its corruption? I think this is just the beginning. In future there is going to be control over what information needs to reach people. Anything can be deemed offensive for a person. I myself consider my computer to be holy and I cannot stand anyone making jokes about my computer. Does that matter to other people? There are so many people who cuss and even kick their computers.

I do not have enough power to stop what is happening but I would like to contribute my two cents to the issue. Some wise person once said, “If you cannot burn like a lamp, then be a mirror that reflects its light”.

Life Would Be Boring Without Children

2012-01-15T14:32:00.002+05:30

May be Manal is intimidated by the vastness of the sea... One of the best pictures I have ever clicked. Love this picture of the girl on the beach...

My niece Manal loved watermelons. One day she was excited, running around me, as I cut the melon into small pieces so that she could eat it without trouble. Here you go I said to her... To my utter surprise, she picked up the half melon I had kept aside for using later and started eating it. Some beautiful memories children leave behind for us to cherish forever.

Children are something special.. so sad they grow up fast.

Manal and Farheena were playing about, all of a sudden I hear light snoring and turn around to find Manal asleep in play position and Farheena confused as to what to do....

Farheena at her cutest best. I am so much in love with that picture of hers.

My sister was waiting to pee, but someone was in the bathroom and she could hear the water running. After nearly wetting herself, when she pushed the door, it was unlocked and who did she find there? Aayan, giving her a cute smile.

When in USA, I heard my son desperately calling out to me "Maa help! help me please". I rushed in to find him wrestling a crocodile.. Whew!
Some kids never grow up...

My nephew Shuraim was fascinated with the Farheena's collection of colorful beads. I found a way of making him wear all of them, for a fancy dress competition. All those beads were quite heavy and he soon lost his fascination...

When we asked Huzaifa who looked quite tensed to smile for a picture.. he came up with an instant smile in seconds. That was genuine too... only kids can do that.

I had dressed Farheena in a sari for occasion and decorated her hair with flowers. Then I had cooking to attend to, so left her. She was unusually quite, so I peeped back in to see what was happening. Farheena felt sad for Annie, her doll, who did not get any attention from me that day. So she pulled out the flowers from her hair and decorated Annie's hair.

How Fair Is That?

2012-01-14T20:01:00.001+05:30

How Fair Is That?

I shed my tears all alone,

I suffer pain , alone I groan

I carry my own heavy burden

I walk with feet heavy laden

I fail, I suffer, I falter and fall

So far,no one bothers at all

But one smile to show

Everyone wants to know

What is behind my bliss

Like a snake they hisss

What is behind that smile

They look so hostile

If you want my joy but not my pain

How fair is that? Think over it again

Relationships... Sometimes I Tackle Them Head On

2012-01-13T01:41:00.001+05:30

Marriages are made in heaven and so are thunder and lightning… Some wise person came up with quote which is so true. When two different individuals try to become one, there are bound to be sparks (of all kind and types), leading to some fiery situations; not only between the individuals involved, but also between the people connected to them.

Being a very spicy person myself who runs away from problem only to fall into their lap, my life has been strewn with so many of such fiery relationship dramas. What best time can beat the one when we have the KFC fiery contest running on indiblogger for me to share these fiery dramatic events with you? So here I go.

I grew up in a close knit family. My parents lived away from our native place, with four of us kids, which created a special bond between the six members. My sister was main glue who held us together more tightly. When my sister and I got married, the priorities in our lives were supposed to change and we were expected to treat our better halves (if you insist on calling them so) as ‘holy thou’. My sister was point blank in shooting her condition that whoever married her should keep her with my Mom. I was never given a chance for putting down any conditions, as my own marriage was a big drama.

The Marriage Drama

Being a fiery girl from my childhood, though a bit mild and cool as an adolescent, I don’t know what made people to expect me become the ideal bollywood biwi kind of person all of sudden. Marriage is not like childbirth which can change you over night. It was supposed to be a slow process but my better half wouldn’t wait. He was very anxious to prove that husband was important for a woman of all the relationships she has in her life. Unfortunately, he chose the wrong timing for this.

My dad had been diagnosed with Hodgkin’s cancer when I was in my Hubby’s home. I was devastated and wanted to leave for Bangalore immediately. My mother in law was against me going away on short notice, so she somehow convinced my husband that I was needed here in Byndoor due to some functions and ceremonies which involved my sister in law and her pregnancy. A very obedient son, my better half told me to wait for few more days before leaving for Bangalore, and, immediately lost his always in doubt status of better half. How could he not understand my turmoil of hearing the news my dad being sick and me away from him?

Aghast and disgusted, not hiding my emotion I asked him, “WHY?”

Instead of some worthy dialogue he came up with a lame and limping explanation, “Because, I, your husband says so”.

“For God’s sake, this is no time for crap. My dad is sick”

“Once you are married your priorities change. According to our religion a wife cannot even attend her father’s funeral if her husband forbids her. God has permitted people to bow only to him, if ever he would have allowed anyone else to be worthy of such reverence then it would be the husband. So you have to understand that now you have to listen to me. I did not say that you shouldn’t go, I only said you go after few days”.

This was a sticky situation in the early stages of my marriage. It was not good to walk out of marriage as there were too many things to consider, like my new born son, my dad who was sick and the love we shared. I was also sure that this would not end the way he wanted it whatever the outcome be.

No one had ever asked me whether I was devoted to any religion and accepted all the rules set by it. Somehow, it was assumed to be so. Now there was no way I was going to listen to him and stay back for a few days. Instead of being rash and rude, for once I became a witty diplomat. I asked him to sit down and listen to me carefully and understand exactly what I was saying because one more wrong response from him was going to create a scene which he wouldn’t like and which would prove that husband is not so superior after all. After getting him seated, I sent out my message in a cool and calm voice, “You say husband is very important person in my life. You are my husband today and you are the most important person of life. But you know what? If I divorce you, and marry someone else, then that person is going to be the most revered person in a matter of months. Many women have gone on to have 8 or more such important beings in their lives. This does not happen to parents. I cannot cease to be their daughter or they cease to be my parents for any reason. God has a say in this relationship. Our bond (of husband and wife) is created by us and it left to us to decide what we do with it. The love and respect I have for my parents will never go away just because I created some more relationships in my life.

Heartbreak....

In our relationship, let us not argue who is important and who should rule. Let us think what is important at the moment; whether a daughter visiting her sick father or a woman attending her sister in law’s ceremony. So think it over and answer because as I told you, our relationship is not in the hands of God. It can break”.

I was not loud or rude, but I had a fire burning in me and I was fierce at the moment. Good for us, he got the hint that there was a huge volcano brewing in my heart and it was not safe to provoke it to come out. It all ended well with me leaving immediately to visit my dad and be there with him while the ceremonies went on well without me. This is only few of those lucky moments when I have been diplomatic and calm. My usual self is more fierce and attacking kind.

Some more side dishes to go with the main course…

I had fiery spat with a father of a married woman once. His daughter was married to a person who was a only son of his parents. According to the Indian culture, she had live with her in-laws. It was tough times for their family, as the son was not doing well financially. The girl’s father while lamenting over the misfortune of his daughter complained to me that parents should never marry their daughters in home where there are parents- in law. That was something very tough to digest even with a hajmola. So asked this person who himself had a son of marriageable age, “So are you going to drink poison and kill yourself when your son gets married?” Shocked he blurted “What?” I replied bitterly, “If all people think like you then your son will never get married until you are alive”. That must have sent the message because I never heard his complaints again.

When I was going through cancer, a close relative once said, mockingly, “Hey! Look, you have lost all your hair”. It was funny to imagine that I did not know that. My answer was “I haven’t lost humanity yet”.

Someone found it amusing to make fun of my club foot and said, “You have crooked foot”, I replied, “But it doesn’t lead me on crooked path, the path that makes people stoop low and make fun of disabilities”

A remark regarding my special needs child, “Why did God give you this child?” I replied to this question honestly, “Because he knows I can love a child unselfishly, without expecting anything from the child in future, not making comparisons, and because I have patience to deal with my child. God gave her to me, because he knew she cannot make people like you happy”.

This post is a part of Contest on Indiblogger by KFC Fiery Grilled.