Pamper yourself!

My morning and afternoon was for hubby and the kids. Stayed in bed till late talking about this that and the other. Cooked a Sunday lunch they enjoy much more than I do. Played a game with the older one, read awhile with the younger, and made paper swords for them to practice fencing with.

Then I packed his overnight bag and waved the hubby goodbye. Helped the kids into their raincoats and sent them down to play. And I baked myself a brownie-in-a-mug and curled-up inside my quilt with a whodunit who company. Sometimes, you need to pamper yourself.

To Walk Away

When was the last time you had an argument with someone who’s sole intention was to contradict you? Someone who picked a point here and a point there and ended up entangling themselves in a bundle of contradictions? Someone who, with yet another misrepresentation of what you said, called you back every time you tried to walk away? Someone who refused to see that he was making a total fool of himself, and in public too?

I encountered such a person today. And I am proud to say that I finally managed to walk away with my head held high.

"Labels are for clothes, not people."

This is for a very dear friend of mine who sometimes stops by, and to tell her that regardless of what the counselor says, her child is just a intelligent and sensitive child, who is curious about things that don't interest others.

A month back, we got a report from the school counsellor. My second-grader couldn’t read, write, spell, compute or follow instructions; in short, he was leaning impaired and needed remedial education.

Yes, my second grader’s reading level was that of a kindergarten student, because of which he couldn’t write or spell either. But that’s all that is wrong with him- in fact, he’s way above his age in maths. A well-informed mother, I could challenge the counsellor and prove his assessment was worthless.

But how many others have been as lucky? How many kids have been labelled dumb, or worse.

Because we want them to be so?

“But what makes a flower beautiful?”, my younger one asked.

‘What’, he had said, not ‘why’, and that got me thinking. Everybody agrees that flowers are beautiful but what makes them so? It can’t be the colour- because I think many orange flowers are beautiful, though I can’t stand the colour. The shape of the petals are attractive, but aren’t many petals shaped no different from leaves? It could be the placement of the whorls, but isn’t it the economy of lines that gives an anthurium its unique beauty?

Maybe flowers are beautiful because we want them to be so?

Setting a goal

“But I can’t read”, my six year old said two months back when I told him I was buying him a book without colourful pictures.

“So what, we can learn”, I told him, before adding, “Why, Are you afraid to try?”

His competitive nature couldn’t resist the challenge. It was a tedious task, but he persevered. The fact that the English language is not predictable only made it more complicated. But by the end of the month, I know he’ll be able to read that book.

When you set yourself a goal- a tangible, non-negotiable goal, you do often succeed.

No words to describe it

Normally, I do not blog about current affairs, believing instead that what we need is long-term systemic change. But after telling my mother (and harshest/ best critic) that I would not blog about what's happening in my country today, I realized it is a part of the larger picture.

Conflict over land is the oldest reason for people to go to war. When the local tribal population in Assam targets illegal immigrants from Bangladesh, religion doesn’t enter the picture- they are merely protecting their land.

But since the tribals are Hindu and the immigrants Muslim, in the holy month of Ramzan, it can be projected as a religious war. People who cannot locate Assam on the map can be incited into joining the ‘jihad’. People originally from the region can be made to fear for their lives, and rush back home to safety.

Deplorable. Shameful. Words cannot describe it.
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Disclaimer- The photograph is not meant to imply I blame these ladies in any way. I use the picture, because I know that in their emancipation lies a part of the solution

Spot the Difference

While we were waiting for the bill after lunch at our favourite restaurant, the younger one trotted off with his brother’s camera and returned a few minutes later with a satisfied smile on his face. Not to be outdone, his brother claimed the camera that is rightfully his, and disappeared on a photoshoot. After signing the charge-slip, I paused for a moment at the door, took out the camera and snapped a quick photograph.

It was only while downloading the photographs that I noticed that the same scene had captured all our imaginations. Can you guess who took which one?

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See how you fared:

I - Thing One - the (nearly) nine year old

II - Thing Two - the six and a half year old

III - Biggest One - the mother