My empathic answer is NO. They can be used as assistants to you and as a support system but making them the de facto guardians and tutors of your children is a big NO. What do you want your children to imbibe; the habits and attitudes of your servants? Is this what you have foreseen for your child?

I see so many children in the park coming out to play with their servants continuously admonishing them, don’t run – you will fall, don’t do this and don’t do that – you will get hurt. As by shouting from far they have done their duty. What kind of upbringing is this?

When nothing works they use threats which they cannot ever carry out. The children are no fools. They soon learn to manipulate their attendants. What are we tuning them up for? Surreptitiously we are helping them imbibe attitudes that will hurt them in the long run.

Do you want the child to grow or remain a stunted little dwarf, big in body but small in mind? Do you want to see your child turn into a thinking, self-confident, courageous and intelligent child or a scared, cunning and lying imp?

In many cases the servants who all have mobile phones are so busy on it that they have no idea what mischief the child is up to. Isn’t that an open invitation to trouble?

But do nice mothers-in-law really exist?

I married out of India and we spent a small fortune on the lavish wedding. However in spite of pomp and ceremony of my nuptials, I was never allowed to forget that my husband married me only because he felt obligated to honour his mother’s choice of a bride for him.

From the beginning, the only space I had to call my own was the chair allocated to me during family gatherings. When I left that chair, I had no personal space to unfold and be myself. Sometimes, I told my husband, “I need you to stand up for me.”

But my words would fall on deaf ears as he seemed to be more committed to his mother and father than he was to me. Talking with my mother-in-law meant facing a very stern lady who disliked me and my husband never understood my predicament.

I recall going on family outings which meant me sitting quietly in the back seat while my husband carried on animated conversations with mother and father. I was usually left out of the interaction. If I tried to speak with my husband, his mother would give me a hostile look as if to imply, “Who invited you into this conversation with my son ? Did I say you could speak?”

This was not a marriage that was made in heaven.

Some time has passed since the wedding. Today I am a wife and mother – but still alone. My husband belongs to only one woman and she is his mother.

The smallest innocent action becomes a seed for conflict the mind of my mother-in-law. If I am taking my son to park then according to her perceptions, I am trying to keep him away from them. Why can’t she realize that she has never allowed her own son to come close to me (his wife) except during 12 midnight to 8 am when he sleeps.

I have built up so much resentment against her that now I want to resign as her daughter-in-law.

Over time, I was lucky to have made friends who are married. Whenever I see them with their husbands and the warm, mutually respectful relationships they share with each other, I would find myself feeling cheated by life.

Until now now ‘Karwa Chauth’ for me was a festival of mother-in-law and daughter-in-law but in chatting with my friends I have come to realize that it is really a celebration of love between husband and wife. That was quite a revelation to me.

I have tried my best as a wife to gently remind my husband that he is now married with responsibilities and our marriage is not limited to sleeping together in a bedroom. But somehow, he is not sensitive to my overtures.

I have fulfilled my duties as a daughter-in law, sister-in-law, wife and mother but what do I get from my mother-in-law? Ostracism and the unwritten status of being an outsider. I feel like someone who is sentenced to stand outside in the cold while looking through the window and seeing the love they share within their family circle. But none of it is meant for me.

From day one of the marriage to today, my mother-in-law feels it is her duty to comment on everything I do as a wife and mother.

Why does she feel the need to dominate our relationship? Why does she hold on emotionally to her son instead of allowing him to evolve into a mature and self-realized man and husband? Why should I be expected to prove myself to her? Surely my obvious respect and devotion to the family should be the measure of my worth as a daughter-in-law and wife? Why must so much of my time and energy be focused on my mother-in-law and not my son and husband?

Finally I gave up trying to fit into the family circle.

Now I never ask anything from my husband as he belongs only to his mother. I have made friends and they are everything to me. They talk to me, listen to me, love me and care for me. I have started to realize that happiness is really to be found inside of our hearts and not in a relationship.

Like me, there are many other wives who have learned to find the road to happiness within ourselves.

The sad reality is that not all marriages are beautiful.

(Author has requested for her identity not to be revealed)

When my father thought that I should go to a boarding school (9th birthday), I had already made the best of friends at the neighborhood school. When Papa gifted me with a bicycle (14th birthday), I already had a learning license for the Hero Honda. When he suggested that, I should stop experimenting with my hairstyle every fortnight (18th birthday), I had already started shaving. When he wanted me to be a chartered accountant (21st birthday), I had already submitted the form for my advertising course. When he asked me to settle down (24th birthday), I was already bored with my advertising job. When Papa wanted me to get married (26th birthday), I had already had my second break-up.

There is one very popular phrase to describe this dynamic — Generation Gap. It has existed since the times of Lord Krishna and his father Nanda; Shehanshah Akbar and his son-turned-Romeo, Shehajada Saleem and even Gurubhai (Dhirubhai) and his schoolteacher father.

What creates this situation of conflict between a father and his son? This invariably happens because both parties are stuck in time. Sometimes in the present, at other times in their past and at some other times in a hazy future as envisioned by both. I mean, when the father is looking at his son’s future, the son is talking of his father’s past. Moreover, when the son talks about his present, the father tells him of his own past. Then, when they both talk about their present, the son is not impressed by his father’s past and the father is worried about his son’s future. Strangely, there is no talk of either the son’s past or the father’s future.

We need to understand the high price we end up paying for these generation gap conflicts. The first loss is that of mutual respect. When the silence between two individuals is uncomfortable, the relationship is in danger. The two pairs of eyes cannot meet even for the time it takes to say, “Papa” or “Beta”. Many dreams are withheld or allowed to wither away just because their experiences and expectations are different. Many emotions are repressed and concealed because of swollen egos (father) or irrational exuberance (son). What remains are many unexpressed feelings and unending arguments.

Let’s take a mango tree to represent the father. Firstly, it bears a mango (his son) only when it has grown strong and high enough to be able to nourish and sustain the mango. The mango tree makes itself dense and strong to protect the mango from the weather, animals and even greedy humans. It sheds all its leaves during autumn to retain the fruit. The tree initially gives the mango its own green colour. The first flavor of the young mango is also like the leaves. So, for an onlooker the young mango is not visibly distinct from the mango tree. Thus, the identity of the mango is the mango tree.

With time and the process of natural growth, the mango matures and it acquires its own sweet taste and a distinct vibrant yellow, saffron or red colour. Now the identity of the mango tree is the mango. The world knows the tree by the variety (identity) of the mango. Either the mango is plucked or the tree lets it fall because it has grown in weight and individuality. When they part ways there are no more expectations and promises. Just a simple and strong bonding of the soul called the “seed” (the mother). And of course of the name “mango”. The mango (son) gives back all he has received from his tree (father) by becoming the tree for another yet another mango.

And so the cycle of life continues continues along for another generation. Sons are born, fathers brim with pride and expectations abound. But with the years they grow apart and there are bruising conflicts along the way. But usually the relationship survives in one form or another. It’s been happening for thousands of years. Nothing much changes except the faces and places…..

I recall the haunting song in the hindi film Masoom, which has this line, ‘Tujse naaraaz nahin zindagi, hairaan hoon mein. Pareshan hoon mein. Jeena ke liye, socha hi nahin, dard sambhaline hongein’. This means, “I am not angry with you, life. Just puzzled and vexed. I never thought that, to live, one would have to handle pain”.

At the end of the college admission season in India, there is a quite sense of bewilderment in the minds of most children and also parents. In spite of the stated admission criteria by various colleges, one gets to hear of stories that qualify for “Ripley’s Believe It or Not”.

A supposedly reputed college ranked on the top in several disciplines has a very strict admission procedure. Recently I heard that students scoring 90% plus were passed over and those with significantly lower marks were shortlisted. I wonder why or how. Maybe, they believe in the “Mata, Pita, Guru, Deivam” philosophy. Which is first is one’s mother, and then the father and then the guru and only lastly is God. Assuming that one cannot understand God and needs to accept the thought and presence of God, maybe this college follows the amalgamation of these ideas!

What is the effect on the mind of a hard working top-scoring student when he hears such instances? Will there not be questions about the relevance of hard work or faith in the system? Will such individuals be motivated to further persevere and put in increasingly hard work to progress in life? Won’t the theme from the Masoom song haunt their thoughts?

It will. I am sure not only in India or with regards to college admissions. This is a pattern that often is seen in many lives and a person has two choices. To give up or go on.

When youngsters ask me this question in all innocence and full of pain, I tell them a few things:
1.    Life is not fair. At least not always.
2.    You have to pick up, dust yourself and move on or be defeated by lies, corruption, dishonesty, etc.
3.    The world is made better, because there are courageous people who get up and run the race again.
4.    Winning is more about being in the race and not giving up.

As parents we all face many such instances when the innocent faces of our children turn towards us in confusion and filled with innocent questions for which we have no answers. My suggestion is to be frank and tell them that life does not always have answers. But, one needs to “keep walking” as the advertisement for a famous whiskey says.

I am now reminded of another hindi song, an oldie; “Musafir hoon yaaron, na ghar hain, na thikana, mujhe chalte jana hain, Bas. Chalte jana”. Which means, I am a traveller with no home or destination to speak of. I just need to keep walking and getting along.

Visitors find my house a strange place, because the two women here, Mum and I, are never seen talking to the man, and somehow the atmosphere suggests that we never do. My house is a strange place. We don’t talk to ‘Dad’ — the word only symbolizes a blood relation, the quotes refer to the irony that the word means nothing to me. He can force any child to become an adult overnight.

Anyway, I have been able to assemble the pieces of my young memory to chalk out the story about my father. He lost his job when I was seven because the company he worked for closed down, or split up, or changed ownership, or downsized — you get the general idea. He set up a law firm after that, because he thought himself good enough — only he wasn’t. To cut the dark story short, I’d just say that failure followed, lots of it. So psychologically, he’s a mighty frustrated man. Like the office-going crowd, he leaves the house every morning, returns in the evening and stays at home on Sundays and other holidays — only nobody knows where he goes.

To me, he’s everything evil: greedy, rash, devoid of self-respect and dishonest in addition to being frustrated.

We live in the same house. Mum and I never talk to him. I am asked ‘to ignore him and act like he doesn’t exist.’ Stupid policy, if I ever heard one. I have maternal relatives residing nearby. They don’t have the time to spare me an ear: one that’s not deaf, that is.

I was fifteen when I was verbally abused for the first time — not by some mean school mate or a spoilt bully but by ‘Dad.’ Of course, I was asked to ‘ignore him and act like he doesn’t exist.’ The abuse still happens. He damaged appliances once when we were out for a few days. I was asked again to ‘ignore him and act like he doesn’t exist.’

Aunts and uncles find the situation too trivial to act upon. They are too busy with their corporate life and home-making. But never too busy to read out the list of things that I ‘must’ do for Mum once I get a fat-salary kind of job in the corporate world. I have to do that stuff to compensate her for suffering under ‘Dad.’ All in all right now, we can’t move. And he won’t move. Who wants to part with freebies and luxuries?

My aunts and uncles all believe we should not rock the boat but endure the situation until the equation changes. I can hear their empty rhetoric even now, “How come you all let it come to this?” The ever popular response goes something like this, “God, how emotional can you be?”

Some relatives even have a spiritual perspective on it, “It’s your destiny, your karma. Just focus on your duties towards Mum, ok? Pray to God, it’ll get better.”

Am I a strong person? I have started to cry against my ego. Recently I felt a pang of fear. I have started to feel I have reached the saturation point. I have begun to wonder how much more I can take. No, I guess I don’t have a reservoir brimming with strength, after all.The impact of it is that I am a shock-absorbent sort of person. Indifferent, some would say. Cruel, some might say. Numb, I say. My father and relatives — they don’t really matter but Mum means everything, though.

“We’ll live somewhere else, away from Dad, ok?” I was nine the day Mum uttered that promise. I am nineteen today. Ten years have passed since I heard these words said. Ten years since it should have happened, but didn’t. Ten years is a long time. Is there any redemption? I hate the man who made my life a hell. I loathe the people who let it happen. I’ll probably forget the details with age. Maybe I’ll forgive them. I think I will, some day. But not today. Not tomorrow. Not in a long time.

Some day I’ll have kids of my own. I’ll teach them to fight against injustice. I’ll tell them never ‘ignore and pretend.’ They won’t have to go through any of this….I promise myself.

You see, we Moms Of Twins (I used capital letters on purpose, in case you’re wondering) are quite used to traveling fast in the passing lane, or at the very least speeding in the regular lane. As a rule, we try to avoid the breakdown lane in addition to the one marked for slow vehicles. That’s just not an option for us. We have lists to conquer, meals to make, scrapbooks to update, bathrooms to clean, noses to blow, calls to return, mountains to conquer…. you get the idea.

So work with me for a minute here. What if you DO get out of the fast lane? What if you were to put your blinker on and politely mosey on over to the far right and let the world dash by at warp speed while you slow down? Can you imagine it? Let me paint a picture for you.
Scene 1: The Fast Lane.
Setting: The kitchen
Day: Any weekday
Time: Late afternoon

The day is moving along and I am crossing things off from my to-do list like a champion. Milk? Check. Laundry? Check. Emails? Check. Supper? Ouch. Not quite a check. Darn. Gotta move faster. I think I can just start sautéing these onions real quickly before the kids get in from school in 3 minutes. Oooh, and while the onions are cooking, I can throw in another load of laundry. Or fold that first load. Wait, the onions are burning. Oh no, here come the kids.

“Hi Mom you wouldn’t believe who got in trouble on the bus today and Logan wasn’t wearing his seat belt like you told him to and my teacher got mad at us again and I didn’t eat my applesauce because you gave me applesauce yesterday in my lunch, why do you always do that two days in a row?”

“I was wearing my seat belt I just unbuckled it to take my coat off and Mom wait till you see my spelling test and guess how many pages I have for homework tonight and what are we having for supper I don’t want to hang my coat up and why do you make us go to choir practice?”

“Hold on kids, I’m busy burning onions for your dinner, so why don’t you get out your homework and start working on it? You can yell out any questions you have and I’m sure I’ll hear it from the laundry room over the washing machine while I fold these last few things”.

That’s the fast lane.
Got it?

Scene 2: The Breakdown Lane
Same setting, day and time as the Fast Lane

I’m still barreling through the day. No flies on me, mister. This time I’m even crossing things off the list using a Sharpie. If I didn’t know better, I’d swear there was a huge “S” across my chest.

But, in fairness to our scenario, the supper isn’t done. And it’s 3:45 in the afternoon. And the kids have choir today which will keep us out of the house till 6:00. And the laundry is screaming at me from the laundry room to be folded before the dreaded state of (gasp!) Permanent Wrinkles sets in. (It’s true. I’ve actually heard clean laundry call me from deep inside the dryer before. Just ask my dog, Bob. He’s heard it too.)

Here’s where things are different.

The kids come blasting through the front door, with the same unpunctuated and overly animated run-on sentences being broadcast in the Scene #1. But this time, I’ve made an intentional choice to stop. Not slow down, but pull over and stop. I turn off the sizzling, smoking onions. I close the door to the laundry room. I turn over my to-do list. I power down the computer screen.

Then I sit down. Right at their little 8 year old eye levels. And I take a journey into the worlds of my 3rd graders. “Who got in trouble on the bus? What part of your lunch did you like? Who did you play with today at recess? Tell me about your homework. I can’t wait to see your spelling test”. So the conversation goes. And it’s just that- a conversation. An interaction. A relationship. Sharing.

All of that would have been missed in the Fast Lane.

You see, when my kids walk through the door at 3:45 in the afternoon, they are offering me an invitation into their worlds and I have a choice. Choice #1 is to put the invitation aside in the stack of mail, and RSVP later. In the meanwhile I keep moving with Fred Flintstone spinning feet and a red cape flying off my shoulders. Or, Choice #2. I can pull over, get out of the drivers seat, and accept the invitation. And when I accept, the magic happens. I see the world through the eyes of an 8 year old. The antics on the playground at recess are suddenly bigger than getting supper done, or returning that phone call. The magic is priceless, immeasurable.

So I challenge you to this. I challenge you to recognize the invitations your kids offer you. Notice them when they are offered. And when they are offered, I challenge you to accept the invitation in the moment. Accept it right away, even if means the onions become little black charred bits on the stove. Accept it even if it means supper will come out of a can and you’ll face the world with wrinkled jeans tomorrow. And then I challenge you to “Pull over Ma’am”, and see what happens. This I know for sure, the magic is what this “Mom” business is really about.

Susie Sarkisian is a Life Coach living in Danbury, Ct. She can be reached at www.trustingyourjourney.com

In a family where communication has not been encouraged and allowed to flourish, this becomes a bubbling volcano. Soon it erupts, ignited usually by the youngsters as the elders are conditioned to control emotions and reactions.

As parents, our fears are about demands that can’t be met and the disappointments that follow. No parent wants to see his/her offspring hurt and therefore we try steer them into safer harbours. The ships of youth however, are not interested in safety. They hastily unfurl their sails to test the winds and its intimidating challenges, many of which are new to the reality of their parents. Parents as helmsmen keep shouting out words of caution. While the youth says, “Let go, let go.”

Should one let go or not, is the crore rupee question. (Hopefully this would replace “the million dollar question” saying that is popular in western countries). At the end of the day, each is the master of his/her destiny. So, if one has taught the child well and he/she has grown up with common sense and a responsible value system, it is probably time to graduate from parenthood and let go.

Surely as the sun rises in the east, they will fall and hurt themselves. It is still the best time-tested way to acquire maturity and wisdom. But, your teaching, good examples and instilled value system will help them to recover their balance and climb back in stride again.

That’s the true treasure and inheritance you leave behind. If they did not learn how to be resilient while accepting life’s dualities and inevitable disappointments, all material legacies would be useless.

So, if you have prepared them for the mix of challenges, joys and disappointments that are pureed into life then you have grown up, as a father or mother or parents! Now, you have the luxury of regressing into youth again and having a ball! Of course, a part of you will always be there to catch them if they fall and can’t find their way back up. But until then enjoy your graduation from parenthood and take life easy with some cream and sugar.

There are of course advantages and disadvantages to such a situation. The advantages — we can focus on our one child and spend well for better education, other activities and give him/her a luxurious life. We can also shower all our love and affection, warmth and attention without having to share among siblings. On the other hand, a single child is a lonely child, and may grow up to be selfish without learning to share and interact with others in a meaningful way.

It is true, however, that the parenting of a single child is different from that of multiple children. An only child tends to develop a close relationship with parents, but builds self-esteem very early in life, attains high grasping power, is more expressive and more motivated at school because he/she receives more attention and encouragement from parents. But then we see our child experiencing a deep loneliness and may be unable to share thoughts and feelings.

The single child also doesn’t go through sibling rivalry and may not learn the skills of tackling problems in life or that of handling inattention. And there is an absence of sibling support later in life. There are however, some ways in which we, as parents of a single child, can support and encourage our child to overcome these difficulties and turn negatives into positives.

Encourage Friendships - It is possible that your single child may keep away from interacting with others and choose to “cling” to you. Encourage your child to interact and develop friendship with others. This will help your child develop stronger social skills. In fact, when your child is interacting/playing with others, carefully observe the interaction and if he/she doesn’t share toys, help him/her realize that being selfish can only result in loneliness and no friendships. Planning get-togethers among friends and extended family with children often does help.

Set Boundaries – You can guide and teach your child to know when it is appropriate to demand attention and when to be self-sufficient. It would be to the advantage of both you and your child, if he/she is not allowed to dictate the terms of the parent/child interaction. Your child should be helped to realize that parents too have their own responsibilities and duties and need time for themselves. Do show appreciation when your child shows signs of understanding that there should be balance in the parent/child equation.

Develop Self-determination – Unknowingly, your child can become totally dependent on you for moral support in any or all activities. Encourage your child to be self reliant, to engage him/herself and to have fun. Do not feel obligated to be your child’s entertainer throughout life.

Parenting a single child brings its unique set of challenges but the joy of watching your child up with adequate love, attention and resources at his/her disposal makes up for compromises and feelings of guilt that many parents experience in this situation.

How often today do we hear that lament, “Help me, my family’s falling apart…” or “I can’t stand to be around my crazy, dysfunctional family.” Happy families are in danger of becoming extinct in today’s world where individuality, inflexibility and selfishness seem to be the driving emotions in the average human human being. There is no doubt that the breaking down of the traditional family unit and its embedded value systems are among the key factors responsible for the social decay and personal feelings of angst that are manifesting all around us.

Without the bedrock of happy, well-grounded and responsible families, our society and by extension, our civilisation, is weakening at its core level and steadily aborting prospects for balanced social and economic progress in the years to come. There is much merit in the old adage, “The hand that rocks the cradle rules the world.”

Genuine progress in any society is hardly about one-sided technological developments or the vulgar, money-worshiping propensities and materialism of the nouveau riche. Au contraire, civilization evolves when it is predicated on family harmony, spiritual development, social responsibility toward the environment and all sentient beings and an appreciation for art, science and life in its diverse manifestations. In most instances, the family unit is the womb within which all human frames of reference, values and aspirational goals are birthed and nurtured.

Happy, deeply-inspired families are the ones that spend quality time together. They learn together, grow together and show affection for each other in myriad ways. But what actually creates the environment to nurture a happy and emotionally balanced family? It is really very simple.

Writers Diane Loomans and Julia Loomans in their book, Full Esteem Ahead: 100 Ways to Teach Values and Build Self-Esteem for All Ages suggest that parents should consider the “Happy Home” Interview. In those learning sessions, parents were requested to ask their children two simple questions: “What is a happy home like?” and “What makes our home feel good?”

Parents were amazed by the simplicity and honesty of the responses which usually focused on everyday things. The kids were more interested in feeling good and connecting with their parents than they were in expensive toys, computer games or big houses. The children said they were happiest when the family played games together; hugged and showed their affection regularly; communicated openly and showed interest in each other by asking about the events of the day.

You too can begin your quest to nurture a happy home by having your children write down their answers to your Happy Home interview. Feel free to modify or add questions but make sure it is an enjoyable self-exploratory exercise for the children. This idea should be extended to include spouses and both husband and wife (where applicable) should make an effort to answer the same questions.

Share the ideas with the family and make plans to act on some of the easier-to-implement recommendations as soon as possible. For example if someone wants to hear crystal wind chimes because they invoke memories of contentment and inner peace, then all it takes is a trip to the store to make that one little dream come true. Try to accommodate at least one suggestion from every family member at regular intervals so no one feels left out of the plans.

We are living in a world where increasingly people tend to whine, complain and focus on the ‘negative’ facets of living instead of looking at life in a balanced, objective way. Unfortunately too many children are being conditioned to be on the “gimme gimme” wavelength and are not encouraged to be mindful of the abundance that surrounds them in the form of family, friends, nature and life opportunities. An old French proverb reminds us that, “Gratitude is the heart’s memory.” A happy family is one that is truly appreciative of its blessings and challenges because both converge to create the ideal circumstances to build character and deepen the love and commitment among members. Remind each other every day to be thankful for relatives, friends, animals and nature and the wonderful opportunities to learn and grow as individuals. Teach your kids to explore and integrate this precious, life-affirming principle into their lives. As they learn to focus on the abundance rather than on the perceived ‘lack’ in their lives, you will be helping them to design an important new blueprint for the future while you keep positive vibrations flowing in the home place.

Bring your family closer together by creating a quality ‘family night’ every week. Designate one night every week as ‘together time’ and have a theme so no one is bored by just sitting around. You can consider an exotic cook-out night, comedy movie night, spiritual story night or anything else that will interest the family. Consider changing the themes after a while and ask family members for suggestions. Feel free to share jokes, incidents at work or school, questions and anecdotes with each other. You will be surprised at how much more you’ll learn to appreciate and support each each other during these special evenings. Don’t forget to switch off those intrusive cell phones while you are enjoying each other’s company.

Another way to deepen family bonding, teach kids responsibilities (and get some work done around the house at the same time) is to carefully assign family responsibilities. If everyone in the family is participating regularly in some type of personal development activity or hobby, then household chores will be neglected or overlooked. Call a family meeting and explain that in order to maintain the schedule of other activities, everyone will have to contribute some time to get the housework done and then assign chores according to age and ability. Even the younger children can help with simpler tasks such as picking up toys, clearing the table and watering plants.

Wouldn’t it be great if when you start a family, someone can hand you a book of guaranteed-to-work guidelines on how to nurture a satisfied and emotionally well-adjusted family? Unfortunately that is not possible but you can do a great job anyway by implementing a few basic, time-tested guidelines. As cliched as it may sound, a family that plays and prays together, stays together. Keep your family inspired and motivated with love, appeciation, wholesome values, reality checks and a fair share of responsibilties and you are well on your way to success. This is not about quantum physics or advanced calculus. It is about priorities, common sense, sensitivity and a willingness to realise that a loving family is the wind beneath the wings of every child, man and woman who wants to soar to greater heights in life.

There is something beautiful about all scars of whatever nature. A scar means the hurt is over, the wound is closed, healed and done with.

When you’ve finally hit the lowest point, you know that the only thing that can happen is an upswing, leading to the road of recovery. You know and understand that it is going to be a very slow process, but you are happy anyway because you know that you are going back up to the light – your recovery. The healing has begun.

November, 2008 – May, 2009

I have taken charge of my life. I am healing slowly but surely in small baby steps. From outside, the cracks don’t show because I manage my emotions quite well. I am a social butterfly again. I feel stronger and I laugh a lot. And yes, I am enjoying the “Dostana” songs again, even dancing to the tunes. I am not fully back yet but the red carpet is in place to welcome the old me.

Meanwhile people tell me they like the “changes” in me. I talk more openly and forgive more easily. I am calmer now and more compassionate towards others. I am not so tough on myself anymore. Everyone loves this change in me. What about me? I am still struggling like a stubborn child. I still feel as if I were changed by force and it hurts. I feel as if I have been defeated – brought to my knees and changed.

But somewhere in my heart I know that the day I accept this change my suffering will be over. The healing will be complete. Meanwhile, I have decided to go back to my old passions: pottery and poetry. I am more spiritual and prayers have a different meaning now.

These are the “therapies” among others which I have incorporated in my life to help me in my recovery.

A) Affirmations

1) I am just going through a phase and it’s not permanent.
2) A man is but the product of his thoughts, what he thinks is what he becomes.
3) I am going to wake up in the morning bursting with energy and joy to discover what the day holds for me.

B) By choosing to be with positive people. I am making new friends and reconnecting with old ones.

C) By eating healthy, exercising and meditating.

D) By reading and opening my mind to new thoughts.

E) By going back to doing things I haven’t done in a while.

I have always taken pride in my energy and my ability to make my dreams come true. To me, healing does not mean that the damage never existed. It means the effects of the damage no longer control our lives.

No one enjoys suffering though great men tell us suffering has a purpose: “If you have not suffered as you have, there would be no depth to you as a human being, no humility, no compassion. Suffering cracks open the shell of ego, and there comes a point when it has served its purpose. Suffering is necessary until you realize it is unnecessary. Suffering comes to make one realize something. True suffering does bring change and when that is done it leaves quietly the way it came.”

12th September (Night)

I was told to collect my results after two days since it was a special test which takes time. The next 48 hours were the worst in my life. I had never felt so scared. The feeling of despair was so new and unexpected – so raw and so real. I could feel it physically gripping at my throat. How does one deal with such a situation? I tried my best to contain it but I couldn’t keep it to myself. After a while I accepted defeat and gave in – I just surrendered to fear and went down – so far down that even today I am still clawing my way up.

I asked my husband to take the day off and the 24 hours passed. I did not sleep. I could not sleep. Every half an hour I would wake up in a cold sweat. By mid afternoon I was like a restless, caged animal. In the end I felt I could not contain my feelings anymore. I didn’t want to scare my family and didn’t want my husband and kids to see me that way. I called my best friend and she came to meet me. I put my head on her shoulders and cried my eyes out for hours. I told her how scared I felt and clung to her like a baby. When I had no more tears to shed I called the pathology lab, only to be told that they were not going to give me the results on the phone. I however insisted and eventually they gave in and told me my results were negative.

I started crying all over again – this time with relief. I thought I would feel better now. But I did not because the feeling of dread refused to leave me. I was told to wait until December and go for another scan. The long waiting game began.

September – Early October, 2008

Days went by and I sank lower and lower. I imagined all kinds of terrible things happening to me. My brain told me there was nothing to worry about; a lot of people had cysts and complex ones at that. No big deal. But my heart kept doubting my brain. It kept on planting awful thoughts in my mind and for the first time in my life I didn’t fight back. I just let the sadness wash over me.

I had stopped eating. For days I would roll myself into a ball and cry for hours. Managing my emotions outside was getting impossible. I had no idea when I would burst into tears. Someone had to simply ask about how I was feeling and while replying I would burst into tears. To avoid further embarrassment, I stopped going out and no longer met with people. I would look at my kids and feel pity for myself because I couldn’t enjoy them. I felt cursed, as if someone had cast a spell on me or given me the evil eye.

Mid October, 2008

By mid September, I decided to meet my doctor and tell her how I was “decaying.” Yes, that is what I felt happening to me. Slowly I was losing myself and I did not know the woman I had become. I felt hollow. A woman who would once wake up in the morning with the thought, “And what shall I conquer today?” Now I couldn’t even visit the doctor by myself. I had to call my friend and we made the trip together.

It was one of the most humiliating experiences of my life. Exactly one year back, the same doctor had looked me in the eye and had told my sister that I was a very brave woman. Now here I was standing right in front of her eyes in a mess – nothing but a broken woman. But to her credit, she did not show disappointment in me. Instead she listened patiently and told me I was having a breakdown which is very normal in a woman after delivery – I just happened to have my meltdown a little later than usual. She told me I would be fine and that she had full faith in me. Faith? How could anybody have faith in me when I had none in myself?

I went home and decided that I had to break free of this circle of doom. I called up my sister to let her know that I was coming over to spend Diwali with her. I also told her what was happening to me. Then I called up my parents and it was their turn to be supportive. Then I sat down and had a full meal. It had been ages since I had eaten anything substantial. I was ready to take charge of my life again.

Late October, 2008

My sister came to receive me and we went home with a wan smile from me and an open hug from her. Her family including her mother-in-law, treated me like a flower and even took my kids under her wings. My sister and I spent time doing things we hadn’t done in a while. We would go for outings and my sister and daughter would sway to “Dostana” songs. I recall looking at them while praying, “Dear God, can you make only that much happy so I can enjoy a good song and not feel sad for a while? Can you please give me a small gap in between, when I am not trembling with fear?”

We went for a scan which my sister insisted on, so I could put my at rest. The scan showed that the cyst was no longer there! Yes it had disappeared. It went the way it came—quietly! We went out to celebrate and all evening, I pretended to be happy. I couldn’t understand why I still felt so sad after such good news. I had no answers. From there I went over to my parents’ place and again, everyone rallied around me and treated me like a princess. Later on when my husband picked us up, I decided that I had to crawl out of that dark place where I had fallen. I was missing the real me like hell.

November, 2008

I gave a name to my dark moods. I called them “waves” and actually began to talk about them, first with my family, then with my friends and finally with my online community group. It was only then I realized that the old me wasn’t dead. She was still breathing somewhere inside of me and I had to dig her out the darkness. One night when I couldn’t sleep, I took an oath to seduce my soul back into my body.

Don’t miss “Descent Into Darkness” Part 3

(The author has chosen not to reveal her identity)

No one can tell what goes on between the person you were and the person you become. No one charts that anguish of descending into a private hell.

There are no maps of the changes.You just come out on the other side a different person.

This is my effort to chart my descent into hell. I am still on that journey and experiencing the changes. I don’t know what I will be in the end, but right now, all I know is I am not who I used to be: a strong, confident, assertive, happy and self-assured woman who had faith in herself.

Among the attributes that I have lost is faith – and faith is what I miss most.

Maybe because faith is the one quality to which all others were anchored. Or maybe because faith was something I was born with and everything else came later. Whatever the reason, I miss having faith and I hate the emptiness that is left in me.

Here is a diarized account of how I lost my faith.

31st December, 2005

We attended an amazing New Year’s bash at a beachside bungalow with friends and had a good time playing cricket on beach, making sand castles and doing things I haven’t done in years. We partied all night and I had so much fun.

January, 2006

The first week of this month was full of activities with many visits from good friends and close relatives and I enjoyed my time with them. By the beginning of the second week, I began to suspect that something was wrong with my body. I didn’t realize I was having a miscarriage because I did not know that I was pregnant in first place. I went for a blood test and misread it, only to be told later on that they could have saved baby if I had not misinterpreted the test results.
Did I lose my faith? Not then. Life went on and I had things to do. Did I grieve? No, I didn’t. I moved on, or at least I thought I did.

February-December, 2006

The remainder of year 2006 was spend taking care of my body. Doctors advised me to give myself a few months’ rest before we tried for another child. I was told to keep my weight down and to eat and exercise properly. As the year unfolded, I questioned myself about whether I really wanted to get pregnant again.

January, 2007

Another year began and soon I realized I was pregnant again. My mother was with me when the news came. I was happy but concerned at the same time. “Will everything be alright this time?” I kept asking myself. But I had so much faith in myself and in my body that eventually I convinced myself that nothing could go wrong. I was invincible.

June, 2007

All my medical reports were positive and promising and by June I began preparing for the new baby. By this time, my eldest daughter was emotionally ready to concede the throne to her yet-to-come sibling. We both secretly wanted a girl but my dear husband, like the sweetheart that he is, just wanted a healthy baby. Gender didn’t matter to him.

July, 2008

In July, I discovered I had CTS, carpel tunnel syndrome. In a few days it became so bad that I could not make the simplest move without wincing in pain. This was difficult for me to accept because I have been healthy all of my life. Never had even those stress headaches that plague most people. Now suddenly I was experiencing excruciating pain. The simplest of chores like lifting a cup or combing my daughter’s hair became a herculean task for me. In the months that followed, the situation deteriorated. I was told that some women get CTS during their pregnancy and it disappears after delivery. All I could do was bear the pain and wait for it to eventually go away.
Did I lose faith? No, I didn’t! Life went on because I had a home to run, a family to look after and dreams to fulfill. I had no time to feel sorry for myself so I bore it all well with smiles when possible and hope for the future.

1st – 4th September, 2008

I went in for my final sonography. I was told to go for the ‘colour doppler’ as it was the most accurate one. I obliged and discovered that the umbilical cord was wrapped around my baby’s face. I was advised not to be too concerned because this happens fairly often in pregnancies. Again my faith came to my rescue. I discussed all possible scenarios – the best and worst possible outcomes and how to handle any situation. I believed that I could deal with any situation. But things went horribly wrong. I went through long hours of labour pain only to be rushed to the emergency operation theatre with the umbilical cord tightly wrapped around my unborn child’s throat….he was being choked.
Did I lose my faith? No, I didn’t! I had full faith in God and my doctor and together they managed to save both mother and child.

5th September, 2008

It was evening when the doctor came rushing to me. I was half delirious and weak after giving birth. He told me that he would have to rush my newborn son to the ICU (intensive care unit) because his breathing was too rapid and his sugar levels were falling. My husband had gone to pick up my sister at the airport. There was no one with the baby so I had to call my mother and she went with the ambulance.
Did I lose my faith? No, I didn’t!

7th September, 2008

Only mothers are allowed in the ICU so I was really excited to visit my son for the first time, on the third day after my operation. The nurses guided me to the room. As I stood there, I found myself dumbstruck for a few minutes. I was choking with emotions because I realised that I couldn’t recognize my own baby from among the five in the room. After I explained my situation to a nurse, I was taken to the table-like bed where my son was sleeping – with a big needle stuck in his tiny arm supported by a small block of thermacol to keep his arm straight. Two ominous looking wires were stuck to his chest by tape; one small tube was down his tiny nose and a soother was taped – yes taped – to his mouth.

I just stood there in horror, unable to believe what I was seeing. The tears were rolling down my cheeks as I walked out and asked my sister to take me back to the hospital.

Back in the hospital, I went straight to bed and slept for a while. I woke up screaming and crying hysterically. I felt as if I were being choked. I was breathless and in between sobs, I told my worried sister what I saw in the ICU and how I went numb with shock. I told her that I wanted my baby. My doctor was called and I asked her why they had chosen to tape a soother to my son’s mouth. I was very upset. She explained that some babies become cranky and it affects others who are in serious condition so it had to be done. I was told that it happened only rarely and they would try not to do it again.

I steeled myself and began visiting the ICU everyday. Most of the times, I found my baby asleep but I talked to him anyway telling him how much we were looking forward to taking him home. I told him about the name we had chosen for him and introduced him to his family.
Did I lose my faith? No I didn’t. My baby was alive and healthy and I was thankful. The rest was my karma. I reasoned that I had to experience this ordeal. I was ready to move on. At least I thought so. Did I or didn’t I move on? I am still hoarding that pink soother that was taped to my son’s mouth. Whenever, I am irritated or frustrated, all I have to do is look at that soother and my resolve to give all I have to protect him becomes stronger.

October, 2007

I visited to my doctor for a checkup and before I left, she hugged me and told my sister, “You know something? Your didi …she is a very brave woman.”

December, 2007 – June, 2008

I make friends with caution and care because when I consider someone a friend, I give that person the right to hurt me. My dear friend R, whom I considered as the baby brother I never had, took advantage of that right one day. He told me that he had that dreaded ‘C’ word – cancer. I was devastated. In the next few months, I spent time counselling and supporting him while taking care of my kids.

During this time, I also suffered the passing away of an uncle. There are times in life, when family members choose to leave your circle of loved ones. Our families were not on speaking terms but that did not mean that I stopped caring about him. When I got news of my uncle’s sudden death, I felt very sad. I said a silent prayer for him asking God to give strength to his wife and daughters.

Before I had my son, I had a very social life. There was time for pottery, music, movies and partying. Now here I was dealing with post-delivery issues and the fact that my dear friend R, was losing his battle with cancer. One day I got a call from another friend, who told me me that my friend R, had finally lost his brave battle against cancer. I grieved deeply. I missed our chats and I missed him like hell.
Did I lose my faith? No I didn’t. Life goes on. I reasoned that he must be in a better place. I moved on. Did I? I don’t know.

5th September, 2008

I dreamt, I planned and executed my son’s first birthday party. It was such a success that people still recall the fun and excitement. After ages, I felt at peace again. I was truly happy.

11th September, 2008

I decided to go for my annual medical checkup. I always went in for checkups feeling confident. Nothing major came up except a complex cyst….a complex cyst? Come again? What’s that? I had no idea so I went home and googled it. I felt myself growing cold. The word that came up again and again was….cancer.
Did I lose my faith. No I didn’t. Life goes on.

12th September, 2008 (morning)

I went to see my doctor and she looked at my report. She assured me that there was nothing to worry about and asked me to go for a CA 125 test. We both pretended that it was a simple test and there was nothing to worry about. After leaving the clinic, I told my husband to go home to the kids while I went in for the test. He left me at the local pathology lab and went home. I then went in for the simple blood test to rule out cancer.
Did I lose my faith. No I didn’t.

12th September, 2008 (late evening)

I came out of the pathology lab and stood waiting for a cab or auto to take me home. I was on the road for 20 minutes when the reality of it all finally hit me. I had actually gone in for a test, the results of which could change my life forever. I began to feel cold and apprehensive. I was shaking. I slowly got out of the auto knowing I was going home as a different woman from the one who had walked out of the house that morning.
Did I lose my faith? Yes, I think it was at that moment I finally realised that my faith was beginning to wither away. I was growing disillusioned.

Don’t miss “Descent Into Darkness” Parts 2 & 3

(The author has chosen not to reveal her identity)

The last few days I was feeling exhausted but I carried on my household duties because I have a house to run and many commitments to honour. In India we teach our daughters that the home revolves around them; women are the sun and our family are the planets.

All good daughters imbibe this in their everyday life and we believe that small discomforts like a headache or cold should not be allowed to slow us down. We continue with our chores ignoring our aches and ailments. I was ignoring my exhaustion and then I happen to talk to my friend who by chance narrated this story to me. Well this anecdote changed me as a person. Here is how it goes….

Sushma was known as one of the pillars of society in her neighbourhood and everyone looked up to her. She was usually there for everyone whatever the problem, offering wisdom, encouragement, support and love. This selfless and sensitive woman was like a rock of gold among grains of sand and her daughter Sumi always wanted to be like her mother, a woman who gave more to others than she ever asked in return.

At times Sumi would wonder what inspired her mother along her path of compassion. All of her life, people had taken so much love from her that she thought of her mom as a bottomless well of support from which everyone received a bucket full of devotion.

And then one day, to everyone’s shock and dismay, Sushma suffered a paralytic attack and she was bedridden for life. This once-strong and independent woman had to depend on others for even the basic needs of her life. She was surrounded by people she loved and everyone took good care of her but it hurt Sumi to see her mother in such a condition.

One day Sumi went to her Guruji and asked, “Why does my mom have to go through this? You ask everyone to be good and kind and my mom is kindest of them all. Why did this happen to her?. She prays, she helps others so why her?”

Guruji replied gently, “It’s all about balance in life – everything in this world depends on balance. If you break it, you have to pay for it. This is the law of nature.”

He continued to explain, “Your mom has been so selfless in giving that she forgot how to take. All of her life she always gave to others and took nothing in return. Her karma had to be balanced. You see you cannot keep on giving love and kindness; at times one should stop and accept it from others too.

“If you don’t allow yourself to receive, you break this law of nature and then a balancing effect comes into play. Now, your mom has to accept kindness, devotion and love from others because she is empty within. It is her turn to accept. Do you understand child? If you do, then give all your support and love to her to help balance her karma.”

I was shocked by this story. Is it true? Does this really happen? I am not sure if such a law of nature actually exists but it made me think; all our lives, we give so much to our family and don’t expect anything in return. Then we pass this trait on to our daughters.

Maybe it is about time we taught them about the real law of nature: give and take. If you love someone then be ready to accept love in return.

If the universe is governed by the immutable law of balance then it it will affect us in one way or another in every facet of our existence.

Therefore if we took time to observe and understand the dynamics of this basic natural law, then it might be possible to write our own equation of giving and receiving, instead of waiting for the cold hands of karma to dispense balance. But that is another Tickle for another time.

Everything felt so ordinary at that time and like any other school kid I just assumed that mothers were meant to be waiting with hot and nourishing food when we came back home from school, playing or visiting friends. No matter how delicious the food was or how appetizing it all looked, my siblings and I ate hungrily but quickly, eager to to embark on more interesting pastimes. I don’t remember a single occasion when Mom complained about us being ungrateful or thankless or selfish. She was more than delighted that we had polished off what she cooked and were well fed and satisfied. But was that enough?

Today, as I wait eagerly for my son to taste the first bite of the appetizing chocolate cake that takes just a few minutes to bake and is neither nutritious nor healthy, the motherly instinct in me waits to see that twinkle in his eye, when he says, “Mom, you are the best cook in the world,” or “Hey Mom…that’s a cool piece of cake.”

I sincerely think that I’d probably sulk the whole day if my son walked off with that piece of cake without acknowledging the love and affection that I blended into it.

Whoa…! I am at least a thousand degrees away from being the world’s best cook and I put in very little effort into that cake compared to my mom’s hard work when she prepared our meals and desserts. I cook for one little pixie once in a week and yet I expect to be acknowledged for my unswerving devotion and culinary skills. Am I being real ?

This simple realization was big enough to bring tears into my eyes; for today my mom rests in peace and there is no way I can go back to her and say those few words which she never expected but truly deserved, “Thank you mom.”

If I could, I would and not just for the food that she cooked but rather for being the “best mom in the world.” Needless to add, I miss my mother but I am glad that I loved her enough and she knew that and enjoyed those special moments that we shared. Whenever Mother’s Day comes around, I warm up to the snug feeling of being watched, cared for and loved by mom from her celestial abode.

But no one should wait for Mother’s Day to say, “Thank you” to his or her mother for her unselfish devotion and love. Every mom, whether she is a good cook or not, has given a part of herself to us and should be honoured every day with love, gratitude and respect.

“Hey mom,” he said, waiting for me to go on.

“Hello baby,” I said, cooing into the phone like any devoted mother.

“School was good today,” he said, anticipating the usual question.

“Okay, take a rest, make sure you eat something and then do your homework. I will be back around 7 o’clock,” I said.

“Right mom and then I shall watch television …okay bye.” Over and out.

There was nothing different in the call today and there will probably be only a slight variation in the next few days. Yet if this two minute call did not happen on a school day, I found it unsettling. The same questions, the same re-assurance, the same information….why?

I could not get myself to walk back to my desk and instead went to get some coffee. With my nice, warm coffee mug, I walked along the office lawns thinking about this daily ritual. It did take me on a guilt trip, the ones that working mothers often go through but then I checked myself and focused on the core concern – namely, what does this call mean to me and to my son?

The more I thought about the situation the more I seemed to look for “reasons and causes” and probable “solutions”. It was then that it dawned on me that every task, every action, every simple thing of routine life becomes a subject of scrutiny in a working mother’s life. It is one of the disadvantages of an extended corporate career!

As I relished the last few sips of my refreshing brew I told myself in very simple terms that I enjoy that call because I am a mother who wants to talk to her son and be a part of his life. It would have been easier if I were home and we could have a longer, livelier conversation but that’s no excuse for not having a two minute chat at all. That settled the question about me so then I picked up the phone and asked my son about this daily call routine.

He answered in a very innocent manner, “Mom, I feel special when we chat, because I know you are waiting for my call in your office.” That did it – the call was important to me because I was a mother of a ten year old who was special and felt special.

Natural bonding does not need justification or rationalization or statistical evidence!

As I finished my coffee, and I walked back to leave the used mug in the pantry, I could not help but smile at myself as another thought tempted me to enjoy a second cup of coffee. But I restrained myself. However, I made a mental note to ask my ‘stay at home’ friends whether they would have worried so much about this trivial thought that kept me busy at work today or would their question have changed to the more basic one such as, “Am I a nagging mom? ”

The phone rang again and this time it was the boss with an easy to answer question, “Have you finished the report yet?”

“Yes Sir,” I replied, and life was back to normal once again.

As parents what do we want for our kids? Of course we want “The best for them” right? But best for whom – for them or for us as parents? My heart bleeds when I read about young kids committing suicide or becoming depressed over issues like not winning a competition, not scoring high enough in an examination, not having a fair complexion, or being unfavourably compared to high achievers.

Where do these expectations and standards come from? When a friend of mine tells me that her 7 year old who is scoring 93 in mathematics was not doing well enough, or another friend enrolls her kid in 6 different extra classes, I feel like shaking them and saying, “Please stop it, because you are breeding your own fears in that poor child!”

My father wanted me to be the above 90% scorer, choose science, go to the best colleges, become a cost accountant, have a government job and be a working woman. Instead, I was an above 75% scorer, chose commerce, went to the second best colleges, left my cost accountancy training before completion, became a MBA, turned down 2 government jobs, became a full time mother and part time teacher.

If you ask me, were these decisions easy to make, I would say, “No!” But I wish it had been easier for me to walk along my chosen path. It would have been if there were fewer arguments, lectures and comparisons with others.

My friend tells her young son that he should always be a rank holder in his class. Another one does not let her daughter learn dance (when the kid loves it), saying that her scores would fall down. I am a teacher to mostly 16 -19 year olds, who are all on the threshold of entering adulthood.

One of my students was dark skinned with long, wavy hair, beautiful eyes, sharp features and a brain to match. She was a gem. She came up to me once to share her concern. Her mother would never let her step out in the sun for too long, or spend time with her friends outside and would buy her bleaching creams to use on her face. All because her mother wanted her to be fairer and not get any darker by standing in the sun. I could see that my student was losing her self-esteem and confidence because she felt she was not good enough in the eyes of her mother.

I think by now, we all know where I am heading with my conclusions!

Children who are expected to live up to unreasonable parental expectations:

1) May become timid adults who cannot make decisions and are always unsure about their abilities.
2) May suffer more peer pressure at school, college and work place, because they are not used to speaking their mind and therefore keep their emotions and thoughts bottled up.
3) May not be in a position to speak about the issues to their friends as it could mean speaking about their parents in a negative manner, which is frowned upon in our society.
4) May end up hating their parents and become difficult parents themselves, as they unconsciously carry the vicious cycle into the next generation.
5) Will lash out and choose their own paths often with tragic or painful consequences.

So, as parents what can we do or rather what should we do? Maybe a few pointers would help:

1) Help your child to smell the flowers, see the blue sky, take in the green plants. Our world is very fast, busy and selfish. Help him to see the peace and serenity as well.
2) Hug them and say often, “No matter what you do, we will always follow you and support you. In the process we might reprimand you, but you are always welcome home.”
3) In any decision making situation, help your child do a SWOT analysis. It will help him to understand his own Strengths, Weaknesses, Opportunities and Threats. It will make him understand the pros and cons of each situation, and most probably he will come up with the right choice.
4) At the end of the day, it’s his life, and he should be happy doing whatever he does in his life. Make each learning process a positive experience, which will have its ups and downs. You can make him feel that it’s okay to fail at times, and it just means that success is a few steps ahead.
5) Home is warm place to talk about his fears and talk his heart out. He will always be eager to come back regardless of what happens in his life outside the home.
6) Accept you child unconditionally and nurture him from this point on.

Like I said, I am no expert at parenting issues, and every passing day is a learning experience for me as well. But there is one constant at work in the whole parenting equation – you should make every effort to be a sensitive mother or father and avoid the tendency to live out your own ambitions through your kids.

The man takes on the challenge and becomes very rich and successful. Krishna keeps appearing to check how happy he is with his acquisitions. The man insists that he is on top of the world in spite of the challenges.

Towards the end, the cycle changes and the man is down and popping a handful of pills when Krishna appears and asks him about his life. The man shows Krishna the pills and says that medicine is his food nowadays. Krishna then picks up the various medicines and reads out the names which all usually end as ‘mycin’ – Erthyromycin, Streptomycin and Tetramycin. He then says to the man: ” Oh, all MY SINS? You are only suffering for your sins!”

Interesting pun on words, but it holds a universal truth.

Today when I see the younger generation, they are in a hurry for instant gratification. Parents bemoan the fact that children are getting spoilt and losing traditional value systems. So, what exactly is the issue?
The issue lies with parents like us more than elsewhere. Let us forget the parent child labelling and discuss this matter from an objective perspective.

Imagine a young infant, whose mind is fresh, open, curious, and creative. What kind of conditioning is the environment and people around him/her offering? It is all about pushing oneself for success. It is not about hard work or effort. It is about success. It is about a particular result.

The individual develops into a typical ‘A’ type personality, high strung, tense and stressed out. Then he or she seeks emotional well being and health by spending money on medicines and doctors. But the individual is simply treating the symptoms. The root of the problem lies somewhere else.

Finally as old age approaches, after a lifetime of chasing success, this person is advised to meditate, take things easy and reflect on life. Are we not completely confusing ourselves and others?

Recently I had a spirited debate about another Tamil film Naan Kadavul. The debate focused on the belief that people who regularly say ‘Aham Brahmasmi’ can become God. My argument was along similar lines. Imagine a child being told that he is God and nothing else. Would that mind ever question it? Would that mind get distracted by anything else?

God is within all of us. This is advocated in every religious scripture including the Hindu spiritual texts. Instead of seeking God and peace outside of us we are advised to look for the Source of Life within us.

Why then, do people still have an issue with following this simple doctrine?

It is simply because our minds are not conditioned as such from childhood. Even God has become a “utilitarian and quantifiable goal” in our never-ending pursuit of success. Some have even branded God on this basis. There is a Hanuman temple in Chennai which is called “Bank Anjaneyar” as it is situated in the premises of a bank. It is also known as “Visa Anjaneyar!” Supposedly a visit is guaranteed to ensure a visa!

Some might argue that I am propagating laziness and suggesting that we should not be result-oriented. But that’s not the case. I believe that there is a very fine line between result-orientation and result-fixation.
Result-orientation enables a person to plan and deploy adequate resources towards that objective. Whereas, if it becomes an obsession or fixation, the path becomes lost and then the ends justify the means.

We should teach our children simpler but more profound things about life. We should teach them emotional skills. They should be exposed to meditation, yoga and spiritual values. We should also teach them to focus their efforts on important worldly goals. But they should also be taught to accept the results that come at the end. This habit of acceptance would help make people more resilient to the pressures of modern life and generally improve the quality of life all around.

My mother is loving and kind, yet strong and independent. Tell her a sad story and her heart melts within seconds, but cross her and she will never back down! Her passion, I think, is feeding people.

When I was growing up, she was always there for me, being a full-time mother, wife and homemaker. My earliest childhood memory is of falling off a tonga – a horse-drawn carriage – with my mother. This happened in Kashmir when I was about 2 years old. It is the only memory of being a two year old child. I guess I remember it because it was scary or at least a huge shock to the system. How well do I recall being held in my mother’s lap with her arms tightly wrapped around me while slipping off the tonga. What is most significant to me perhaps is the memory of feeling safe and protected during the ordeal.

From later years, I remember my mother, a staunch follower of Mahatma Gandhi, telling me to turn the other cheek whenever my male cousins hit me. Fortunately for me, my father had a more practical approach to life. He taught me to fight back by not inflicting too much damage on the other person – just enough to discourage them from picking on me.

Though I rejected that particular lesson, I imbibed other aspects of my mother’s Gandhian views. She taught me to speak the truth without fear or reservation. So much so that my father claims that I am not just truthful but often “brutally frank.” Well, I am trying to temper the “brutality” without losing the frankness.

I learnt from Mum and dad to treat all people with respect and courtesy regardless of race, religion, gender or age.

I remember an elderly gentleman moving into our home in Delhi for the entire winter one year. Mum introduced him to me as her “godfather.” He lived in Norway with her older sister’s family, but found the winter there to be too harsh. So he had come to spend the season with us. I loved this man, who told me a story from the Mahabharatha every night. Before he left, he had told me the entire tale, with all its twists and turns, and its myriad sub-plots. What a wonderful experience.

It was only much later I learnt that he had been my grandfather’s housekeeper. He had moved to my aunt’s household when she got married to help her run her new home, first in India, then Indonesia, and finally Norway.

Another year, Mum’s elderly aunt came down to escape the cold winter in Kashmir. She too, told me stories, half in Hindi and half in Kashmiri, which I didn’t know too well. Both my parents respected her deeply as the oldest member of the family taught me to do the same.

Our home was an open house to any relative, friend, or friend of a friend who was passing through Delhi. Female guests simply moved into the room I shared with my older sister. Male visitors slept on a thakhat in the living room. People who dropped in to say hello were invariably persuaded to stay on for the next meal.

I didn’t find any of this odd. I thought this was how all families operated and I enjoyed all the comings and goings. The house was open to all my friends too, of course.

Mum has always been a wonderful hostess. Equally, she is a gracious guest. Except for the closest of friends, she would not go to anyone’s home “empty-handed,” as she put it. She kept a stash of gifts to be dipped into as and when required. If she didn’t have an appropriate gift to present, she would take flowers or fruit. Never under any circumstances would she go without a gift on her first visit to someone’s home.

She was also careful to never allow her host to feel uncomfortable on our account. When I was in my teens, we had close family friends who lived nearby. Since the relationship was so informal, we would often drop in on each other at short notice. One time, when we had gone over, the lady of the house apologized because she had cooked only a simple vegetarian meal that day.

My Mum, with her most innocent look, asked, “What day of the week is it?” When our hostess told her, Mum still maintaining her innocent look replied, “Oh we never eat meat on Tuesdays.” (or Thursdays, or whatever day it happened to be). This happened at least 3 times before our friend finally caught on!

In our own home, my Mum resolutely refused to teach me to cook or do household chores. I was possibly the only Indian girl of my age back then who couldn’t make tea. Girls were generally groomed to be good wives and daughters-in-law in India’s joint family system. My Mum assumed, like others, that I would eventually marry and “settle down.” But, in the meantime, she wanted me to have fun. She insisted that I should enjoy myself because there was no rush to get involved in cooking and housework!

Both my parents considered education to be of great value, both in itself (as knowledge) and in its ability to make one financially independent. Mum wanted her daughters to be well educated and to work before marriage, if not afterwards. I remember her talking about this even when I was really young, perhaps 10 or 12 years old. She felt it was important for a woman to know she was capable of looking after herself even if she was not going to work after marriage. That way, “if anything went wrong,” she would know she could be financially independent.

As things turned out, I worked, got married, continued to work, and never really “settled down,” while happily moving around Asia with my husband.

My mother, now 83, continues to be a loving presence in my life. She doesn’t cook in her own home any more, but when she visits my husband and me, she makes a special effort to make us a favourite dish once in a while. It is hard for her to stand for long, so we put a chair for her in the kitchen. Our cook/housekeeper helps her by cleaning and chopping the ingredients but Mum directs the process. (Sometimes my parents cook together, but that deserves a post of its own).

Even though she lives in India and I am in the Philippines, we often spend quality time chatting on the phone. She never fails to ask me to give her love to my husband – “and even more to you,” she invariably adds. Then she chuckles and adds: “But don’t tell him I said that.”
Happy Mother’s Day Mum!

However, the journey had several interesting moments of insights, learning and fond memories. The most interesting insight which led to my being able to relate well not only to my children but also to youngsters happened a year ago, when my son was hospitalized with a cocktail of infections and illnesses. He managed to come down with chikungunya, dengue and malaria! The doctor advised immediate hospitalization and promptly he was bundled and taken to a reputable hospital managed by a Christian missionary.

We had requested for a separate room and when we walked in, the first thing my son noticed was that there was no television! I had to promptly go back and enquire if we could bring our portable set. I was told that there was another set of rooms which were equipped with televisions that would cost marginally more. We requested one of those rooms and moved in my son.

Even while my spouse was putting things into place, my son wanted the television to be switched on and remote given to him. After hunting for the remote and making enquiries with a nurse, I went back to tell him that there was no remote. So, I was made the honorary remote and had to stand next to the television in order to change channels.

After a few minutes of frantic channel surfing, realization dawned that there was no cable feed and the only channels available were the government run channels, which have never topped the charts when it comes to infotainment. My son slumped over quite disappointed. In an effort to cheer him, I said “This is what we had while growing up because it was all that was available.” I can still recall the look of absolute disbelief and pity that he gave me.

Having been absolved of my duties as a tv remote, I spent a lot of time thinking about that incident and had some amazing insights.

Firstly, the generation I belong too has seen the maximum number of change with regards to lifestyle, technology, social norms, etc. I guess that has made this generation far more flexible, resilient and able to manage change.

Secondly, my children’s generation is an ‘Arrived’ one. Especially in the Indian context, their generation has not experienced shortage, rationing, lack of choice, etc. They have been exposed to technology, innovation and convenience almost from birth. This has led to the current trend of instant gratification.

Obviously, to expect them to completely comprehend and understand a context and situations which they have not experienced would at best be an idealistic dream.

The practical choice was to grow up with them, thinking like them without letting go of our learning experiences and more importantly, the value systems instilled in us. They are still growing up and are at the age when they have all the answers to life’s questions. By the time they begin to face the challenges of parenting and being able to relate to my experience, the world will be changing again.
However, one thing would be constant. Growing up with your children is an enlightening experience that makes a person whole.

One of them, I remember well is about trees and their large bigheartedness! A similar story is currently circulating on the net but here is how I remember the one told to me.

Once upon a time, there was a very young boy, who used to love spending time playing with his toys. His favourite playing place was under a full grown, fruit bearing tree.

In time, the tree and the boy became talking companions.

One day the little boy got bored and told to the tree, “I am bored – I have played with these toys too many times!”

The tree replied, “OK, don’t dismay, you can climb up on me and play on my branches.”

The boy was very happy with this suggestion and sure enough he started having a lot of fun climbing and sitting high up on the branches of the tree.
We have all done that as kids, haven’t we ?

One day he started school and for a long time he did not come to play under the tree. After some time had passed however, he came back to the tree. His old companion was overjoyed to see him and the tree encouraged him to climb on but the child refused!
“My school clothes are going to get dirty if I climb up on you,” complained the child!

The tree thought for a while and said, “OK, don’t worry. Go, bring a rope and tie it to one of my branches and you can enjoy a swing.”

The boy liked that idea and he quickly slung a swing as directed. He come back to play with his new toy every day, swinging lazily at times but aggressively on occasions when he was in an upbeat mood! The branch on which the swing was slung took the load without complaint. The damage that resulted from the constant friction and rub were also borne gracefully and quietly by the faithful tree. During summers, when the heat became unbearable, the tree would tell him to rest in its shade as well. The boy would lie down and rest there, to beat the sweltering heat.
Time progressed and the boy soon outgrew the swing and discarded it.
As he got older and moved on to college, times became harder on him. He had almost forgotten about the tree because he was preoccupied with his studies. As a struggling student he ran short of food very often.
One day he went back to the tree after a long time. The tree recognized him immediately and welcomed him.
The boy happened to be hungry and complained to the tree, “I do not have any food to eat, my stomach is cramping with hunger.”
The tree smiled and said, “Pull down my branches, pluck off some fruit, and fill yourself up.”
The young man, without batting an eyelid, jumped up and tore off one of the smaller branches from the trunk!
He ate and ate to his fill.
He did not stop there.
Over the weeks, he tore off all the branches and ate all the fruit.
After the fruit had all gone and the tree was left barren, he went away and did not come back to the tree as he thought it had nothing else to give him.

With time, when he reached his middle age, he came back to the tree and said: “I have been very successful in life. I have earned a lot of money, I have a huge house and I have found a great wife. Now I feel I need to travel and see the world.”

The tree by was now quite old and was not fruit bearing any more but still wanted to help its long time companion. The old tree told him, “Don’t worry. Bring a saw, cut off my trunk and make a boat out of it. Then launch that boat into the ocean and set sail with your wife to see the wonders of the world. Do that! ”

Without an iota of hesitation, the man cut down the tree. Branch by branch.
He began making the boat to sail away with his wife. He made it by cutting not one but all the branches and the trunk as well. As soon as he was finished, he set sail with his pretty wife in tow.
All that now remained of that glorious tree, once the boat was gone, was a stump. With time

Instead of trying to eradicate conflict all together (which would probably be impossible), you should instead focus on how to recognise its presence, and deal with it.

Here are some Vedantic Tips on how to deal with parent-child conflicts in the best way possible.

Keep Cool

In his book, Parenting, Swami Tejomayananda of the Chinmaya Mission writes, “the first thing that is required when you face any problems – not only related to parenting- is that you have to keep cool.”

Emotions tend to naturally blow things out of proportions during a fight, thus it’s important to be reasonable and logical by separating your emotions from the problem. Acting on emotions will only destroy rational thinking and cloud your logic. As the cliché goes, “Don’t go down with the dogs. Otherwise, you’ll get fleas”.

Not Unique

Once you are relaxed and have taken charge of your emotions, Swami Tejomayananda then advices parents to recognise that whatever problems they are facing, it’s probably not unique and definitely not new.

In the Puranas, it is written that the divine sage Narada Muni came down from the Heavens to Earth and realised that every one around him was unrighteousness. People were misbehaving, and kids were out of control. He was so worried that he went to Bhrama, the Hindu God of Creation, and asked, “What will happen to these people? Can you tell me something?”

This story just serves to highlight that whatever is happening to the youth and kids of today, happened years ago during the times of Narada too!

Remember your own Childhood

As parents it’s sometimes easy to forget the follies of our own youth. There’s probably no one in this world who wasn’t at least a tad rebellious growing up. It might have been at the mental level, or verbally or even physically. But all of us at some point have rebelled. Never forget that.

Know the Root Cause

As with an illness, knowing what caused the problem is better than just finding the cure for the symptoms. Find out what triggered the conflict to better address the problem. Otherwise, you may find yourself dealing with the same issue over and over again.

Positive Thoughts

The power of positive thinking can help you deal with conflicts too. Think happy thoughts and good things are bound to happen. Wallow in misery, and you’ll get just that.

A person’s attitude will actually rule his response to situations. Learn to find comedy in the situation. Hold on to your sense of humour, and you’ll soon realise that things weren’t that bad after all.

Eliminate your Ego

Instead of locking heads, swallow your pride and allow everyone to come up with the best solution to the conflict. If several people are working to end the problem, there will be more solutions available. Forget who’s to blame. Instead, initiate fixing the problem and accept ownership of the resolution.

Conflicts do not really have to give rise to a winner or a loser. Sometimes, a battle of wills is a good opportunity to air grievances and ultimately better a situation or relationship. Often, the right decision entails everyone to sacrifice a little.

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This article has been contributed by our friends at The Asian Parent. Visit them for more articles and resources on parenting at www.theasianparent.com.

For years, unshaved, un-moisturised, grubbiness and such were sexy on a man. We all remember those famous booze or cigarette commercials that we would catch while on holiday in another country. Guy with a 5 o’clock shadow walks into bar, wearing dirty jeans and a leather jacket, moves stealthily to the barman and demands a drink but due to his ruggedness, by some strange equation, he deserves the best drink in the house. As he gulps down the beer and then wipes his mouth on his sleeve, we couldn’t help but crave for him. There was just something about the griminess that made him irresistible.

As we are reaching a decade into the 21st Century, more men are becoming self-conscious which to us women, can either work for us or against us. I mean, walking into a reception with a guy who takes pride in himself and has spent a barrel of cash to make himself look and smell good is certainly a delicious thought. However, this also means, you, my dear woman, are going to be spending time battling with him for bathroom time, slips on Saturdays to the salon and more! But then again, when you look at the final product, standing there with perfectly styled hair, the scent of Hugo Boss’s aftershave surrounding him like a shield, nails trimmed and cleaned…Salivating aren’t you?

TheAsianParent decided to go a little eye-candy hunting (with no complains!) and pick out our favourite famous metrosexual dads!

Nicholas Tse

Nick Tse, Hong Kong’s very own sweetheart, made hearts beat faster when he was single but now being the father of a one-year-old; he is equally as hot with his personal grooming skills beginning to look top notch. Giving most dads not only in Asia but almost globally, a run for their money, Tse is the epitome of hotness!

Brad Pitt

Brad Pitt may be in the middle of his fourth decade but he still sets tongues wagging. A father to 6 young ‘uns, Pitt and his ever changing hair colour keeps women, young and old, at the edge of their seat with the wonderful way he embraces his crisis-less midlife. Still the face of many endorsements, Pitt blends in fatherhood well with up keeping himself. Pitt shows that being metrosexual does not necessarily mean being effeminate but it means loving yourself and taking an interest in your appearance.

Hrithik Roshan

The world sat up and took notice of a bollywood hunk guy frolicking on the beach with the most romantic eyes back around 1999. Hrithik needs no introduction, having a famous father who directs and an uncle who does movie scores. Now a father of two, Hrithik still looks every inch the goodness he did when he first entered the big screen, almost a decade ago.

Keith Urban

The appearance of country music has certainly improved with Keith Urban popping up as the new age metrosexual cowboy. His rugged good looks combined with his own style, gives him the lead in winning over non-country music fans! His signature haircut, the long layered cut, has certainly been the talk of the town for a while now and though it gives him the unkempt look at times, it has certainly been a style that has been followed by men, worldwide!

David Beckham

How could an article on metrosexual dads be complete without the poster boy for the metrosexual guy? We decided to keep him last ‘cause by now you’re probably cursing for not reading his name! Anyway, Becks, famous for having his soccer skills, is probably even more popular for his ability to look good in any hairstyle, clothes – Becks even wore a sarong, at one point, for crying out loud, and still looked better than certain women I’ve seen parading in them. Never one to shy away from anything in the name of fashion, Becks is the essence of metrosexuality! The father of 3 active little boys under the age of 12 and a possessor of a physique that would put any single guy to shame, Becks has and will continue to dominate numero uno on the list for the top metrosexual guys!

The metrosexual guy is a fella who can walk bravely into the make-up department of any shopping centre and ask advice on a new cleanser. He can help to accessorise for his gal-pals while totally feeling secure as he talks to his girlfriend about it. The homosexual manual of looking good has been stolen by the metrosexual and he copies everything while remaining very much a heterosexual.

As gay guys begin to compete with the new urban metrosexual man, we women cannot sit back and relax ether. Ladies! If you’re with a guy who keeps himself up-to-date with fashion, etc. then it’s time you get out there and do something. In a world that is still coming to grips with gay men; spot a guy with black pants, black shirt, a brown belt, hair styled to the nines? You might just be looking at a straight guy who is a father to three moppets who just happens to take extremely good care in his personal grooming!

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This article has been contributed by our friends at The Asian Parent. Visit them for more articles and resources on parenting at www.theasianparent.com.

Oh snap out of it, you’re not living in a 5 million dollars penthouse in Manhattan. This is a $400,000 four bedroom apartment you’re spending the rest of your boring married lives paying off, so you might as well be realistic. And that means a taboo subject among a section of Singaporeans who swear by this: no maids at home.

That’s right, save that money, deal with it, and watch as you work up a sweat. Stay fit, buy something nice with the extra money you’ve put aside and perhaps, just perhaps, tell yourself those morons in Manhattan don’t know what they’re doing.

I’ll be first to admit, I’m not the biggest fan of housework. Seriously, after busting my ass off for the entire week, subjecting my sanity to the boss’s whim and fancy and coming home to a tired wife who ate the last piece of chicken drumstick, there are better things to do in your weekends.

If I could have it my way, I’d change the sheets only twice a year and floor mopping would be an annual event. I love cooking, doing the dishes and the laundry, but when the ironing signal goes bright red I suffer a sudden case of rigor mortis. And just recently neighbours spied me being dragged kicking and screaming to dust and wipe windows. It wasn’t the most comfortable exchange of words when we ran into each other in the local park several days later.

Men are catching on to it

However, not all is doom and gloom. A recent study conducted by the University of Queensland found that men are slowly improving and the evidence is in the hours devoted to housework. While men were kicking it back and taking it easy in 1986, spending just 12 hours a week doing housework, men in 2005 were spending up to 16 hours helping the missus.

Plenty of fathers out there do a great job and love to do nothing but cook and clean. It’s strange to think that there aren’t more men out there who don’t have an ingrained hatred for domestic chore.

Sex life improves

But wait, there’s more! If men are still struggling with the concept of picking up the vacuum cleaner and following it up with a wet mop, here’s a kicker – doing dull chores improves your sex life!

Believe it or not, when men do more of the housework, women’s perceptions of fairness and marital satisfaction rise and the couple experience less marital conflict. For the thick ones out there, this effectively means the more chores men perform at home, the happier the women are.

Many women report greater feelings of sexual interest and affection for husbands who participate in housework, which correlates with how both parties feel when they make a successful effort to divide the chores evenly. Inequalities in housework and childcare have profound consequences for the marital satisfaction of women, which in turn affects the quality of the marriage for the man as well.

Health benefits

A study published recently in British Journal of Sports Medicine suggested as little as 20 minutes of physical activity a week improves mental and physical health, although the greater the activity, the more benefit.

Physical activity and exercise isn’t always the same thing, the study’s authors said. Physical activity includes cleaning, housework and walking up the stairs.

If putting on excess weight over this festive period continues to haunt you till Christmas 2009, you know you’re better off being more active. Well instead of strapping on your runners and having delusions of grandeur of running the four minute mile, why don’t you hook up your vacuum cleaner and go nuts with the floor?! An hour’s worth of vacuuming consumes 150 calories; now that’s as much as performing a slow jog for 20 minutes. I vouch for this myself, as I run 3km a day, four times a week and vacuum once a week. It’s nice to know I’m able to burn over 800 calories a week. Which means I can afford to pig out on that extra bag of potato crisps.

If you’re still not convinced, then I suggest you keep at what you’re doing while I admire my beautiful physique and sex life, marvelling at what I’ve accomplished with what little effort I’ve put in.
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This article has been contributed by our friends at The Asian Parent. Visit them for more articles and resources on parenting at www.theasianparent.com.