Second Child

What is the right reason to have a second child? Sometimes, I find Tanvi is so lonely, I feel like going for a second child. I have seen her smothering other kids & babies with so much love that, I feel she must be missing a companion. She longs for company, maybe that’s why she does that. Whether the child is older or younger than her, age doesn’t seem to matter to her. As long as she has someone to play with, she’s happy to be with the kid for hours & days together. I play with her too but it’s not the same. Two children playing together & a child-an adult playing is very different.

I went for the first child for two reasons. One, simply because I became pregnant without trying. Two, I wanted to experience motherhood first hand; right from the conception to the entire term of the pregnancy to the labor & the delivery. This is one & the only experience that is reserved just for women. In my next life, if I am born a man, I will miss out on it. Also, this is one of those beautiful things you can’t buy off the rack. No matter how much money you’ve, or how many degrees you’ve earned, or how hard you’ve tried, no matter what, you can’t be a mother (biological) unless God wishes you to be & at the time He wishes it to happen. It is entirely in HIS hands. So if I have got pregnant without trying for it, I felt I should go on the whole journey.

Similarly, there are reasons why I don’t want to have a second (biological) child. And that is simply because I have gone through it all once. I have seen it all, been there, and done that; that too all alone; single-handedly. I know how horrifyingly lonely it gets sometimes & how terribly painful some days are. I don’t want to go through it all over again. Why would I, in my sane mind, want to suffer the hell of labor pain & the stress of raising a baby & the nine months of captivity & the countless hours, nights & days of just wanting to kill myself because I was so damn tired – emotionally, physically? Why would I want to go for it again? Once is enough; more than enough, in fact.

But when I see Tanvi, sometimes playing by herself, ingenuously role-playing, talking to a water tap on the terrace, or the chair or sofa in the hall or the railing of the stairway, pretending these things are people, & having a conversation with them, I feel so bad. I feel momentarily miserable that she doesn’t have a sibling to play with. Or even a kid in the building or the neighborhood. At those times, I so want to give her a sister or brother she can spend hours talking to.

I just want to give her a friend, a lifelong friend. Not the kind who come & go on weekends. Among the neighborhood children, the big ones bully her. The little babies only coo along; they are always under a 24 hours surveillance of their parents. If Tanvi so much as bends over to plant a light kiss on the baby’s cheeks, the parents shriek “NOOO”. They also usually forget that Tanvi is only 4 years old, a baby too & want her to be this ‘big sister role-model’ & conveniently expect her to be all sacrificing with her toys & crayons & cars & even if the other baby smacks her, to not smack back as a reflex action.

Some women say they went for a 2nd child because their mother-in-law or husband asked them to. Some say relatives said 2 kids is a must for a family. Some even said the second child ensures that, should something happen to one of them, you’d still have one more to hold on to especially if you cross the child-bearing age!! Like, if one dies, you’ve the other to carry on the family name!

I am not sure if I want anyone to carry on my name, let alone my family’s!

Festival Blast

The Ganesha festival is celebrated every year with a well-organized, resplendent orchestra. The fully-decked stage comes alive at sundown, & fills the air with music, blasted through massive loudspeakers & heard from miles & miles afar. Film music (!!) is played throughout the evening while devotees congregate near the mandap where the idol is installed. During Diwali, crackers worth lakhs of rupees are burst through the day, & night, & sometimes, if you happen to be in some of Bangalore’s notorious neighborhoods, even into the wee hours of the morning.

Circa 2006. Tanvi was born in June. Ganesha festival fell in Sept & Diwali in Nov. She was an infant of a couple of months then. Putting her to sleep became a Herculean task. I used to struggle so much to ensure my tiny baby wouldn’t be scared by all the hullabaloo outside. It dawned on me, while I lay there with my few months old baby tightly held to my bosom, that the crackers during Diwali & the orchestra during Ganesha were such a torture. For the first time ever I hated these festivals.

There were so many people suffering silently, while a few had their loud blasts. Countless patients, old people – sick or otherwise, little babies, sleep deprived nursing mothers & dogs suffered the most. I know for a fact now, that dogs hate diwali. I read somewhere that dogs suffer cardiac arrests or anxiety due to the blare & some even run away from home to escape the shor-sharaba. 3 days (or more) of crackers can make living a hell, not just the sound, the obnoxious smell too. The chemical substances are known to remain in the air for long periods of time making it difficult for animals & plants to breathe. The number of asthma complaints increase around diwali. The nitrogen & sulphur dust affect respiratory system of little children.

I don’t grudge them their enjoyment. Just wish they would be a wee bit sensitive. The thing is, you never know in whose house there is a wailing baby or an ailing man. Sathya’s grandmother had a terrible Diwali this last season. She is touching 90 & is bedridden & so frail that even the noise of a door being shut tight startles her. You can imagine what she must have gone through. Their house is on the main road & even with closed windows & doors there is absolutely no way of escaping all the Diwali dhamaaka.

Till Tanvi turned 2, both these festivals made me extremely uneasy. I used to dread them, thinking how am I going to pull through them this time? Now I am a bit more considerate. I think about others. I pray the noise-lovers stop bursting those bombs & deafening people. Wish there were stricter rules for not creating ruckus after a set time. Wish there were timings set. No loud bombs after say 8.30 p.m. It would be a small relief.


I realized, during my days as a young mother, that lighting diyas isn’t after all just a cliché, heavily endorsed by celebrities. It truly is the way to celebrate the festival. The diyas, the rangolis, the clothes & the smiles – bring it on!! I love Diwali.

Fascinated

"He who can no longer pause to wonder & stand rapt in awe, is as good as dead." - Albert Einstein

Does technology kill curiosity? Do technical advancements inhibit our spirit of adventure & wonderment? “Yeah right! So what?”, “What’s the big deal?” is a response you get if you interact with teens today. The eternal question is ‘What Next?’ Remember the Samsung ad. It’s a mad rush for new products, new features in existing products, new accessories, new applications, new tools, basically new everything. With so many ‘new‘s, where’s the time to be captivated? By the time I purchase a thing, go home & sit down to explore its features, the marketing for its new, improved & upgraded version would already be out on the telly. Watch the show ‘It’s a Guy Thing’ on NDTV & you’ll know what I mean.

My first handset, the Sony Ericson “brick” model, was still a cherished one. Quite an accomplishment because it was a gadget bought with my salary. And it was taken at a time when I did not feel a compelling need to own a mobile. I bought it only because someone sold it to me for Rs 1500/- way back in 2002! When I look at my present handset - touch-screen Motorola & recall the tiny display of that first handset, the gap & difference is not just in the price of the things but also in my own personal growth in terms of increasing earning capacity & a proportionate willingness to spend. But what has remained constant is my fascination for both. I was fascinated then, I am fascinated now.

My eyes light up at the very sight of a new gadget or application. Like, the first time I saw the LG fridge with its water compartment outside the body of the refrigerator. It was a ‘wow’ moment for me. The journey of Indian cooking, from the wood & fire chulhas to LPG gas to induction cookers to microwave ovens is a remarkable one too. I am still spellbound when I go over some of the latest models in the electronics section of a mall or when I watch the gizmo updates on T.V or the description of features in magazines. I’m like, “This thing can do this?” followed by ‘How’ & later ‘Wow’.

The variety of children’s books & toys available today – I like, I like. As a child, when I was growing up in Bombay, it was all about running around the gullies with a gang of boys. And later in Udupi, it was mostly playing ‘house’ with leaves & assorted sticks & stones. Chasing butterflies & failed attempts at milking the cow were our most fun games. Today, the sheer range of toys to be had is amazing – from tumbling honey bees to an ironing tool set to cash register machines to road excavation equipments – they’ve the whole gamut; that too by categories of age. Playing in mud is so passé!

I’m not skeptical of technology nor do I fear its effects on my daughter’s growing mind. As a parent, what I do dread is the loss of fascination for things. With everything available at the touch of a button, & so easily seen & experienced, the sense of curiosity & allure, the absolute thrill of discovery, the romance of a new sensation, the wide-eyed wonder, wouldn’t be there, would it? Wish we could take time to savor each of these experiences & satiate our senses before we move on to the next conquest. Seems like asking for a lot.

Most scientific inventions & discoveries owe their birth to one emotion: an overwhelming & over-powering sense of fascination. One genius was fascinated by the falling apples, another by the movement of a train in relation to his own movement or lack of it in a car, one was mesmerized by the power of sound, another by the way light travelled, one dug into the deepest recesses of a cell, another into the vast expanse of the universe. Oh, without a sense of wonder, what would man be?

My Religion

People say we should not discuss religion & politics during happy occasions like say a party, or a reunion. Because these topics have an uncanny way of making people want to beat each other up. What starts as a harmless personal remark soon ends up being a war of words. Opposing parties up in arms against each other in a desperate bid to prove themselves right.

When & how did religion, any religion, ever become so intolerant, so adamant, & so irrational? All religions speak of ego being a destructive force. Then how is it that the followers are so egoistic? A mere comment or opinion on their religion gets construed as a pagan attack & a blow to their ideology.

I am born Hindu, meaning both my parents were Hindus. My mother was a devout one at that, praying, doing poojas, aartis, vraths etc. She never stepped out of the house or started anything without folding her hands in devotion to Ganesha. ‘Devre kapadappa’ was said in complete faith & trust. My father posed like a religious person but cared two hoots for any God I know. He wasn’t an atheist. He had nothing for or against religion. He just didn’t care. Between these two extremes, I grew up under a predominantly Christian influence. I used to attend Sunday mass. I used to go to Bible Study classes. I even got baptized in a Roman Catholic Church (in Sasthan, Udupi). No one asked me to do any of these. I did it of my own volition. I’ve never regretted it. Today, when I close my eyes in prayer, I visualize & speak to Christ.

So what is my religion? The more important question is, does it matter?

What matters is what I’ve learnt & what I practice in my life. If it wasn’t for the Bible, I couldn’t have lived through life the way I‘ve. My belief in the goodness of people, my trust that if I persevere with honesty, victory will be mine in the end, my knowledge that “jiska koi nahin uska toh khuda hai yaro” is a thing experienced deeply, my faith that ultimately I’ll triumph over everything, my positivity, & enthusiasm is all because of my readings of the Bible. My relationship with the Bible happened in a very positive, structured, systematic fashion. Other religious texts also have the same power. If I had read the Quran, or the Bhagwad Gita, it would’ve influenced me equally & very similarly too. All religions are basically about kindness. They ask us to show compassion toward other men & animals. If only we’d be just a wee bit more considerate towards others. Wouldn’t many of the world’s wounds be healed by this balm?

If I were to describe my religion, I’d say its kindness. It’s a hand-me-down from my mother. Her first reaction to any situation or person was always of kindness. Whether it’s a relative, stranger, child, neighbor, I’ve seen her always responding with a kind word or smile. But I’ve also seen that people don’t appreciate it. They respect those who talk down to them, those who are haughty or those who’ve an air of superiority. And many a time, that has made me rethink if I was doing the right thing. Maybe I’d also treat people badly (especially edgy strangers & pushy salesgirls at posh lifestyle showrooms & condescending salon staff & too-smart-for-their shoes salesmen at footwear stores). But I can’t. It’s a lot more work than just being nice.

I wish all the festivals we celebrate, all the Gods we worship, all the pilgrimages we go on, all the temples/churches/mosques we visit, teach us but one thing: Be kind. That’s what the world needs. That’s what God wants.

Shubh Aarambh

Have you watched the latest series of Cadbury ads titled ‘Shubh Aarambh’? Each episode is a masterpiece. The content, the central idea, the message, the simplicity of its execution – kudos! I would have loved to write a piece on each of those individual ads. But today, this post is in response to the episode where the ‘cool’ guy goes back to pick up the empty packet he had just thrown on the road.

I remember I once went through this phase of “cleanliness is next to Godliness”. It was my response to the governments’ war-cry to maintain a clean city. I would never throw any empty cans, bottles, wrappers, used papers, packets, sachets etc on the street. I used to take it home or the nearest dustbin & dispose it there. And I would also lecture others about it (costs nothing to lecture others you see!). I had read somewhere that in some countries (particularly Singapore) littering and spitting in public places is a punishable offence. That had got me thinking. Fined for littering? Hmm. The agenda was to not dirty the streets anymore than it already was.

That was also the time when I had the highest concentration of Desh Prem (no … not the Manoj Kumar variety; just a lot more simpler & basic type) in my blood & wanted to do my bit towards a cleaner India. This is the least I could do for my city, state & thereof my country. After all, I know I am no Bhagat Singh.

Years passed. And with it, my “safaai” phase passed off too. The desh prem weaned. The lectures were happily forgotten. I was back to my lazy self.

Last week, when I ate the cut slices of papaya from a piece of paper offered by a roadside vendor & threw the paper into the moving traffic as our car sped along, I immediately felt a tinge of guilt. I thought for a second of another ad where this lady on a bike chases a car & thrusts the empty bottle back at the person who had thrown it out on the road. What if someone does that to my face? Oh my God!

It’s true that Indians clean their houses but dirty their neighborhood. It kills me to say this but I must admit I am guilty too. Plastic covers, packets of chips, chocolate wrappers, empty beer bottles rolled down the sides of deserted roads (the last one – courtesy – Sathya) I am guilty. Now, every time I see the Cadbury ad, it makes me want to revive my personal campaign of the earlier days.

So here I am. This 2011 I will do my bit. I will not litter. It is a promise. I will not give in to the attitude, “I can get away with this”, chaltha hai yaar. Maybe this time it will outlast my temporary craze & actually become a habit. Hope this habit dies hard. I will remind myself that I may be fined. Come to think of it, maybe THAT’S what we need – imposition of a hefty fine for littering. The way the helmet rule is grudgingly but diligently adhered to now in Bangalore, maybe a fine in this case would awaken the collective consciousness of people. Hope Tan & her generation grow up to break this ‘typically Indian’ habit of littering around just like the guy in the Cadbury ad. All it takes is a resolve. I resolve not to litter.