learning to let go

one of the toughest things in life is this... i am learning new lessons in this every day and the more i try to internalise, it seems there is more to learn on this...
though i feel i am not a control freak, others are not of the same opinion... amongst people whose opinion matters is who else, but my bitter half... and he is 1000 percent sure that i am a control freak... so right now, the emotional tread mill i am riding every day is to let go... and who else again, but let go of a part of me who is now being made to study on her own...
i have severe angst on this one... sure as i am not whether she will manage... will she know the priorities? will she be able to fit all the portions on time? will she know where she needs to concentrate her efforts? will she know the spellings she is not confident of? will she care to practise those tricky sums that she gets stuck on?... and the list continues...
but i have to steer clear since i am not sure whether it is her i am helping (or as B puts it, handicapping her) or it is me i am helping... if it is not the former, i have no business in helping myself on this... all his logic and i am hearing him, as i pen this down...
but really this is tough... whole evenings which were packed with R... her lessions, her activities, her questions, her jokes... have fallen vacant... both of us have been given the stricture that unless we steer clear of each other, R may as well be packed off to a boarding school... this while i used to frequently threaten (only emptily) that the only medicine that will do R good, will be a stint at a boarding... now i am scared since i do not want that to happen...
now, in my vacant evenings, i wonder how Mom spends her entire life alone... neither of her children around whom her whole life revolved at one time, so much so that she did not have time for her natal set up, are with her now... both are grown and are on their own... so what does she think about?
possibly that is the reason whenever we picked a fight with each other (my bro and me) and Mom and Dad stopped us... they said, "you will understand us better when you both become parents in your lives."

Sun's annual leave

this is that part of the year again when, though not weather-wise still, but going by the time the sun sets, it is clear that the time of shortened days have arrived...
the nearer we get to the Equinox, the greater the feeling i have each year that the sun is in need of rest... so it gets to bed earlier... having worked overtime during the summer, it is time that it takes a break (and gives us one too), though in reality, there is nothing like a rest for the sun... if days are getting shorter here, it is getting longer in the Southern Hemisphere... but since i have, till date, only lived in the Northern, it suits me well to think that the sun is working flexi hours...
just imagine our state if the sun, one fine day, just does not rise or rises lazily when our clocks are well past 12 noon?
i, for one, will keep snuggling in bed hoping that my watch is wrong since behind the curtains i will still not see the day...
it is difficult to think of a life without the sun since we have timed ourselves accordingly...
one day, i hope to ask sun, "don't you feel tired of this routine? why don't you inform us and go on take your annual leave... we will adjust admirably, i assure you."
then if the sun listens, we can all have a ball... miss work, be in bed all the while...
but how does one deal with hunger???? moot question, na?

searching for memories

long back, when in college, while winding up for the day from the canteen (well, there were many days, when we went to college, but did not attend any class, lolled in the canteen the whole day and returned home from where we started the day), we met a middle aged man...
he struck us because he was not a familiar face and most middle aged men were our teachers whom we knew and who would not come that way, anywhere near the college canteen...
the other reason why he struck us was the searching look on his face, his eyes in particular... he was tall, very well dressed, carried an expensive leather brief case (the kind that was in fashion then), wore the latest (then) cut shoes that were shining clean...
we crossed glances with each other amongst ourselves and one of us asked him, "are you looking for somebody?"
at first, he did not answer... on another attempt, we understood that he had not heard our initial query at all... and replied politely, "yes, memories"... and continued immersed in his search with a faraway look in his eyes...
intangible it was then, tangible it is now...
we do go back to college sometimes, if not every visit to the city, at least once in five years... now, we have taken the place of the man whom we found so out-of-place then... i am sure there are teenagers who discuss us the same way we discussed the gentleman... and find the same look in our face and eyes...
one good fortune for us is... part of the memory stays with us... B was my class mate in college...

simplistic first borns

to me, first borns are simplistic, impulsive and more innocent than the other siblings... and no, this is just not autobiographical (yes, i am a first born), but also borne out of what i have seen in many other families, my marital family included...
first borns tend to be more attached, more sentimental, more adjusting...
they adjust and accommodate when a sibling or two comes, while the latter borns arrive when the first borns are already there...
possibly because born when the parents are relatively younger, less mature, first borns are impressionistic, take time to grow up, while the latter ones are much more worldly wise, mature faster and give a lesson or two to the elder sibling...
first borns also get flustered easier and faster compared to the latter... they have a lower threshold level...
their capacity to love is more, they also tend to be less selfish... many a times, they tend to carry on traditions which have little value for the latter borns... they also have a deeper connection with the wider family... since they come at a time when the immediate parents have stronger ties with their family at large...
parents' expectations from first born is always more... they give up with their latter borns... they learn with them, but with the first born, they are much more harsh, much more expressive, much more demanding...
given all of these, i would still want to be born first to my parents since it is then i who will be the first to give them a new identity... call them Ma and Pa...

to my Chiquitita***

Chiquitita, tell me whats wrong
Youre enchained by your own sorrow
In your eyes there is no hope for tomorrow
How I hate to see you like this
There is no way you can deny it
I can see that youre oh so sad, so quiet

Chiquitita, tell me the truth
Im a shoulder you can cry on
Your best friend, Im the one you must rely on
You were always sure of yourself
Now I see youve broken a feather
I hope we can patch it up together

Chiquitita, you and I know
How the heartaches come and they go and the scars theyre leaving
Youll be dancing once again and the pain will end
You will have no time for grieving
Chiquitita, you and I cry
But the sun is still in the sky and shining above you
Let me hear you sing once more like you did before
Sing a new song, chiquitita
Try once more like you did before
Sing a new song, chiquitita

So the walls came tumbling down
And your loves a blown out candle
All is gone and it seems too hard to handle
Chiquitita, tell me the truth
There is no way you can deny it
I see that youre oh so sad, so quiet

Chiquitita, you and I know
How the heartaches come and they go and the scars theyre leaving
Youll be dancing once again and the pain will end
You will have no time for grieving
Chiquitita, you and I cry
But the sun is still in the sky and shining above you
Let me hear you sing once more like you did before
Sing a new song, chiquitita
Try once more like you did before
Sing a new song, chiquitita
Try once more like you did before
Sing a new song, chiquitita

-- ABBA in 1978...
*** which roughly means "little girl" in Spanish... no she does not read this page yet... when she does, she'll know...

toast to self-control

this is my 4th year in a Muslim country, and the 4th Ramadan...
today is the 4th day of the 4th Ramadan and i still haven't understood one simple thing -- how do people stay away from food and water for more than 12 hours and in this heat?
i fast one day a year (actually not even fast, since i do take food, but not rice and non-veg)... sometime in April... to pray for the good of my child... and i have to say that fasting is not my cup of tea...
i am a foodie, though i do not cook; i know how to, but hate to, except if i am trying out a new dish or i have called someone i really like... now all of these are very very rare... but i love to eat (no wonder my weighing machine has conked off)... and have no intention to diet... thus all the more reason why i just cannot fathom how one can fast for more than half a day, one month at a stretch...
during Ramadan, our (the non-fasting people) contribution is to attend as many Iftars as possible (by invitation), make justice to the food served (and it is delicious) and wonder even more how women who are fasting can churn out the delectable variety...
some things, as they say, is best shelved for the next life since i will not understand many of these things here and now...
for now, i will concentrate on all the Iftar invites and hog to glory...
Ramadan Kareem!

the grand old dame

my grandma-in-law was truly amazing. a middle school drop-out (not out of choice, but by marriage), she quit school but not learning. a regular reader of the daily paper and books, this wise lady was in charge of my marital family... she made the decisions on what is to be cooked, when some visits are to be made, what gifts are to be given on occasions in and outside the family...
in fact, when B decided on me, it was this lady who vetted his choice... met me at their place, caressed me and said, "my grandson loves you... so we all do."
it was she my parents met before the wedding... and came away thoroughly impressed...
the best gift i received from her was a poem she wrote and sent on the morning of the wedding, welcoming me into her family...
we have shared a lot of time together, cut jokes at each other and other members of the family... her stories of her day and time enchanted me... the imprint of her being i still see in B since it was she who looked after him in his childhood...
when my Dad passed away, she was so stumped that she could not come to meet us... only when we, my Mom, bro and i were a little settled, did she come and said, just these, "it was a battle between D (death) and D (doctor) and the latter was defeated."
she herself passed away in 2001... going back to the family has changed forever, since there is none who has such unbound affection for me... the only time she was visibly upset with me is when i enrolled R into a play school when she was just two... she had commented, "her mother wants a Nobel laureate out of her, thus the hurry to make the little child grow up."
i did not change my decision and R continued to go to school, but i remember her words whenever i try to hurry R into a grown up mode...