Looking back

Long back when I was doing my undergrad course in Tiruchirapalli I faced a dilemma during my practical examination. A few of my catholic friends suggested that we pray for success in our examination by reciting Our Lady’s Prayer “Hail Mary full of Grace …..” 9 times, for 9 consecutive hours. After each recital we had to make a wish. This kind of prayer was called hourly Novena. We all readily agreed and on the said day we assembled at a friend’s room and prayed very sincerely. The theory exams went off well and we had to answer our practical exams before dispersing. Our Lab boy Chinnamuthu was given the task of collecting plants from the neighborhood for the exam. He offered to give us a duplicate set of around 40 plants for a charge of Rs. 2/- per head. My friends found nothing wrong in this. After all it was up to the examiner to decide on the plants that would be given for the exam. Of the forty plants hardly 4 or five would be given. It was just a kind of revision and did not amount to cheating. I opposed the idea and refused to shell out my share of money and said that I would not even have a look at the plants. A walk around the campus was sufficient to familiarize us with plants that were in their flowering phases and that were enough, I said. After having prayed for divine intervention it was not proper to rely on a lab boy for help. We had a big argument and finally my friends called me a nut case and left.

On the day before the practical exam Chinnamuthu did bring in the plants and all except me went and had a look. My good friend Maria Stella tried to convince me that it was not wrong to have a look – so what if I had not paid my two rupees. I did not give in. A few other friends started dropping hints and I requested them not to do so. The practical exam went off well and we were to disperse the next day. It was a sad evening for all six of us who had been very close for the last 4 years. Stella in particular was known to be very outspoken was a favorite. We got our warden’s permission to sleep in one room but none of us actually slept. My friends tried to convince me that getting a duplicate set of plants was not cheating and I stood by my stand that paying for knowledge about the plants that had been collected for the examination was not correct. It indicated that we neither had faith in our own capability nor in the deity we prayed to. I admonished Stella for ever agreeing to pay the lab boy.

“Were it legal our teachers would have called us to the lab and asked us to have a look at the plants that had been collected. It is supposed to be a secret and it was wrong of Chinnamuthu to earn money by giving us a duplicate set illegally”. I said.

“Were you not familiar with the plants that were actually given?” Stella argued. It was just a kind of revision.

Be that as it may, that night was a memorable one. We laughed and cried at the same time knowing that our world would never be the same again. We disagreed on specific issues but enjoyed our disagreements on a few issues as much as agreement on several others. Of the six friends I only met Stella once before my marriage. Another friend Prasanna wrote a few letters and we later lost touch. Vinolia and Jaya were equally dear but somehow we did not remain in touch. Angammal was the only one who returned to the same college to do her Masters.

Years later I happened to meet a gentleman who had retired as DEO from Tiruchirapalli. He was visiting relatives in Jamshedpur. I enquired after Stella’s dad Mr. Maria Susai whose promotion as DEO was due. He informed me that Mr. Maria Susai had died of heart attack before being promoted. He had no information about his family. He was rather surprised that I was friendly with Stella because he knew Mr. Maria Susai to be anti Hindu, anti Brahmin.

“He would never have approved of his daughter’s friendship with you”.

It did not matter to me. Till date I cherish her friendship – a friendship that knew no compartmentalization in the name of religion or community. I have nothing but fond memories of my friends of my college days. We did not have the internet or mobile phones to connect us. Memories alone persist and I wish them well from the core of my heart.  

Back Again............

I need some motivation. I really do. I’ve been experiencing the computer phobia syndrome for quite some time now. May be it was the over drive during the National seminar that put me off. I plan to write something but end up playing spider solitaire or free cell.  Would you believe that I haven’t yet submitted my full paper for the proceedings that has to be published following the successful completion of the seminar?  My topic was “Saving the Ecosystem: A Value based Analysis”.  I think I need to really buck up and become chummy with my computer. With the children away and interaction with grand children restricted to weekly phone calls I need to be grateful to the technological wonder that keeps me occupied. I cannot afford to ignore it. So Namaste Computerji ! Shat, shat pranam apko.

And I get going. Wish me luck to be able to complete what I wish to say.

Long back I had promised to share information about how my maternal aunt bonded with her mother in law. I plan to do just that. I have written about her in this post which has a reference to an earlier post written in 3 parts. My aunt had no children of her own but she was a mother to all of us nieces and nephews from her own side as well as her husband’s. Thanks to her we share a very close relationship with her nieces and nephews by marriage and consider them as very much a part of our family and they too reciprocate in a similar manner.

My aunt was 13 years old when she got married. It was therefore appropriate that she was instructed on culinary skills by her mother in law who loved her like a daughter. She must have been well past 40 when I happened to spend a fortnight with her after answering my 11^th boards.  I then saw for myself the wonderful relationship they shared. By then ‘Amma’ as her MIL was fondly called by the family was quite ill and practically bed ridden. She had to be helped to sit up on her bed and escorted to the hall or kitchen and seated in a comfortable sofa or easy chair when she felt inclined to. My aunt would give her a hot water bath, scrub her back, comb her hair and massage her feet and what not. It was heart warming to listen to their conversation.

“Amma, I plan to make sambhar and cauliflower sabzi for lunch” my aunt would say. “Do you think I should pressure cook 1 cup of dal for sambhar or should I make it 1 and a half?”

Amma would pretend to get annoyed.

“You’ve been married for thirty five years” she would say. “Do I have to tell you? Can’t you decide for yourself?”

“You found the sambhar spicy yesterday. That’s why I asked”.

“”Then restrict the amount of chilies. Why make extra sambhar and waste it?”

Or

“Mr. K………. has come. Should I prepare tea or coffee?

Or

”The servant wants a day off tomorrow. Is it okay to grant her leave or should I ask her to come in the morning and take the afternoon off”?

Listening to them one would think that the DIL was a novice and needed to be given directions even for managing day to day affairs. But I knew better. It was my aunt’s way of acknowledging that Amma was still very much in charge. When I hear of young girls claiming that the house was theirs and their MIL had no say in running the house I always remember my aunt who had no problem taking instructions even at the age of 48.

My uncle had the habit of maintaining an account book in which he recorded his day to day expenses. He had a college going nephew staying with him to whom he granted a pocket allowance of 10 rupees per month apart from the amount required for bus pass. In 1965 Rs. 10/- was quite enough provided the boy did not watch movies with friends or ate at the famous Mavilli tiffin rooms. He would coax amma and my aunt to giving him a little extra spending money. My aunt would give him the money but would not be able to account for it at the end of the day. Their conversation would be something like this-

Uncle: You bought coriander for 50 paise. What else?

Aunt: Mmmmmmm, let me think.

Uncle: Did you buy any other vegetables from the push cart vendor? How many times do I have to tell you that these fellows charge extra money? You could have told me to get vegetables from the local market.

Aunt: (unable to lie nor able to tell him the truth) mmmmmmm…..

Uncle: Did you buy charcoal for the boiler?

Aunt: No, I bought it yesterday.

Uncle: Then? What else? I am not able to account for 5 rupees.

Amma would be fretting from an inner room mumbling to herself.

‘Can’t she say something and be done with it? When will she learn to deal with him?’

“Why do you trouble her son?”  She would call out unable to bear the torture her DIL was being subjected to. “You know that she does not spend a penny without consulting me. You cannot expect her to remember where each and every rupee went.”

That would silence my uncle. Further questioning would imply that his mother’s discretion was being doubted.

I cannot quite recall another MIL/DIL duo who treated each other with such genuine and unconditional affection.

'Vidaai' - When your daughter leaves home after marriage

When I first came to Jamshedpur I was surprised to see the open display of emotions when a young bride left home after her wedding. She would weep profusely hugging each member of her immediate and extended family. I come from a community that considered it inauspicious for a girl to cry when she left home. We were expected to control our emotions and put up a brave face while leaving home even if it meant that we had no idea of the kind of person our husbands happened to be.

“A daughter’s tears will ruin her paternal home” was the familiar refrain I grew up listening to.

 I wonder now whether the necessity to hold back tears and control emotions was an unrealistic expectation from women or was it a way of preparing her to face an uncertain future? My north Indian friends tell me that a girl would be considered shameless if she happily accompanied her husband post marriage and the ‘vidai’ ceremony was supposed to be a sad one and shedding tears was a must. I agree about the sadness involved but it may not be possible for every girl to wail and cry to prove her affection for her parents.

All this does not make much sense these days. Girls have in all probability left home to pursue higher education and/or career and are quite capable of managing quite well and better equipped to deal with minor hiccups that she may face in her future home with or without her in laws. My own daughter got married in Mumbai and left for America from there. It was only when I returned to Jamshedpur that it dawned upon me that she would no longer be part of our family as before. I did spend countless nights worrying about her well being. Living on her own in a foreign country with neither set of parents available for advice immediately she could have had her own set of teething problems. I never came to hear of them.  

This brings me to my next question. Have we actually trained our children to deal with adverse situations that they are likely to face when they leave home? Leaving home need not necessarily mean getting married. I deliberately use the word children because I am sure boys too have to deal with a bullying senior or a partial teacher. We never tell our sons that it is okay to cry once in a while nor do we encourage them to share their problems with us.

My days of parenting are almost over. I have made my own mistakes and regretted them too. I would advice young mothers to just be there for your children. Even if you feel that their choice in life (not necessarily marriage) is wrong they ought to know that you are there for them come what may. Shedding copious tears during ‘vidai’ is not sufficient. Lending them a hand in support when they need it would be a better way of expressing your concern.

Teaching and Learning

The Hindustan Times has launched a year long program ‘You Read and They learn’ with an intention of contributing 5 paise from every edition sold in Delhi Metro - NAC towards providing study material for 10,00,000 underprivileged children in Delhi. While I welcome the initiative I cannot help wondering whether children will derive any benefit by the initiative. No, I am not being cynical or pessimistic. I do not for a moment doubt the intention of those who thought of the scheme. My take on the matter is different. A lot of ground work needs to be done and the outcome of these findings need to be considered while planning such initiatives.

I’ve been in touch with teenagers for the past 32 years and I see a marked difference in the quality of students we get as finished goods from secondary school as compared to the time when I started my career. Earlier I’d begin my first class with intermediate students with an understanding that their school had taken care of the basics of the subject. Today I have to introduce the good ones to the different parts of a flower. The mediocre and below average students are not regular anyway so I am not including them at all.

The first thing that our school going children need are dedicated teachers. Teachers who can create a love for learning and exploring for themselves the joy of learning. They say schools have to promote students to the next class irrespective of their performance in the present class. Failing them and making them repeat a year may not be a solution but is promoting them a better alternative. If a student who has passed his 10^th standard has to be taught the basics of science and/or the construction of a simple sentence who takes the responsibility? And how were students different 20 or even 15 years back?

I really wish the at least a few of my students had taken up teaching. I am sure they would have made good teachers and their students would have carried the torch forward. We’ve had students who would question the accuracy of the diagram in my record and point out that the specimen appeared different to them. I would have to explain that minor variation in shape was acceptable as part of the evolutionary process and parameters like leaf size varied according to the environmental factors like availability of sunlight and water. It was a pleasure teaching them. I wish we have more students questioning me and thinking for themselves.

That said, I must add that parents too are to blame. We did not have college educated mothers but they would not accept our excuses for poor performance. I remember an instance when I fared badly in a chemistry test and told my dad that I had trouble following the lesson. My dad came to school and met my teacher to discuss my problem area. The teacher did not take offence and took extra care for the next few weeks and left me alone only after making sure that I got my basics right and could manage on my own. I am not sure but from what I understand teachers are not as approachable these days.

The attitude of students is also a cause for concern. Soon after board results are announced we hear of teen age suicides, depression among students for not fulfilling parental ambition and what not. There is a need for open communication with children and an assurance that they will not be judged on the basis of board results or the better performance of a class mate or cousin.

These are just a few points I wish to make and start a healthy discussion on how our youngsters may be helped so that programs such as the one initiated by Hindustan Times may succeed. I will be coming up with more of my observations. Please feel free to join me.

 http://www.hindustantimes.com/India-news/NewDelhi/You-Read-They-Learn-make-it-possible/Article1-845790.aspx

Fake Baba

I came to hear of Nirmal Baba through my domestic help Baby who complained that her 65 year old mother woke the entire family up by switching on the TV and listening to Nirmal Baba’s discourses telecast at 5:00AM in the morning. She woke up at 4:00 in the morning, had a bath in cold water lit a lamp in front of the TV set and sat down to listen to him. She would have tea and a biscuit only after the discourse was over.

I was not impressed and advised my servant to stay away from god men and spiritual gurus. I felt that one ought to face challenges and find solutions instead of wasting time and money as suggested by these men who take advantage of the psychological pressure faced by those in distress. I never heard of Nirmal Baba again till news channels and local newspapers began to report that he had earned more than 109 crores in just 3 months. The money poured in from different sources. Devotees were charged Rs. 2000/- per person for being granted audience and he also asked them to deposit 10% of their salary as a solution to their problems. He maintained two accounts for this purpose. He claims to be paying tax for the amount thus received. Interviews with his one time devotees who now claim for action against him reveal that his solutions make no real sense. He just said whatever came out of his mouth. Like a woman was asked to keep her purse open at dusk while lighting a lamp at the altar in her house as a solution to her financial worries. When she came back to say that her problem persisted he asked her to put money into a costlier purse for better results. He asked some to distribute pencils to poor school going children for success in his examination. A person was asked consume and to distribute ‘kheer’ (Payasam) as a solution to persistent pain in his legs. He actually had blood sugar and his condition worsened. There seems to be no end to these stories. My husband loves watching the same news over and over again. I find it silly.

I now feel like defending these god men. Man claims to be capable of rational thinking. How then can a person lose all discretion and trust these swindlers? If changing one’s purse or distributing pencils was a solution wouldn’t we be a land of multi millionaires? The man was elevated to a divine level by the very same people who are hounding him and asking him to account for the money he collected. He has purchased a five star hotel and has planned to convert it to a chain of hotels, and why not? Money and power are intoxicating tools for corruption. Rare is the person who can resist temptation. For all the social service done by Satya Sai Baba with due respect to him one must say that he too had allowed people with vested interest to handle his money and upon his death people who tried to transport cash from his ashram were detained and questioned. I do not know if arrests were made. I have always respected Satya Sai Baba for his contribution to society. But beyond a point he too lost control or so it seems to me.

Stay away from such fake ‘babas’ is my advice. Life is full of unpredictable turns of fortune and one has to face them as best as one can. Superstitions have never benefitted anyone nor is there an easy way out from life’s woes. In my last post I forgot to wish you all a happy Tamil New Year. A very Happy Nandana year to all of you!

Adopted/Foster family bonds

There is a tele - serial that we watch regarding adopted children and the affection showered on them by the adopted father. It is a very touching story with the father fearing that the children may come to know of their adopted status and leave him forever. The children are also equally fond of the father but of course they do not know that he is the adopted father. What they would do when they learn the truth I often wonder. My husband however feels that the adopted status ought not to matter the affection he has showered on them will not allow the children to ever leave him. The question I ask is -Is there truth in the statement that blood is thicker than water? Will all the affection showered on an adopted child go waste when he/she realizes that the couple who brought them up are not biologically their own parents?

My husband recalls the incident of a child Chinna who lost his mother when the family fled from Burma during World War II and was brought up by his maternal uncle and aunt in Jamshedpur for a while till his father found a job. In fact his older brother and sister also stayed at the uncle’s place but they were aware of a life they had spent in Burma while the youngest was a mere baby. When the children’s father found a job and was in a position to support his family he came to Jamshedpur and took them to Bombay where he worked. The older children had no problem but the youngest fell sick and had to be brought back. The aunt for her part would not touch food after he left and pleaded with her husband that the boy be brought back. Chinna loved his aunt dearly and would call her ‘amma’. She was an aunt by marriage but the bond was such that outsiders believed that he was her own child. He lived with them till their death loved and accepted by his cousins. Chinna was okay with his father too but could never consider moving in with him permanently. Chinna was in his twenties when I got married and I remember him bringing home Tamil magazines that I looked forward to. The family moved out of our township within a year of my marriage and we heard no more of them.

There is another case of a seven year old girl Ammu who came to work as a domestic help for a family known to me. A few years later she lost her eyesight partially following small pox. By then Ammu had become an indispensable member of the family and managed the running of the household and extraction of work from the servants. With her around one could stop worrying about routine matters. The children of the household loved her dearly and the master and mistress almost forgot that she was just a domestic help. Her own brother and sister in law found the arrangement suitable and led their own life peacefully. She would visit them occasionally but would return with a whole lot of complaints about them. She found her sister in law unrefined and her niece and nephew ill mannered.

It was then that differences cropped up. Ammu once took the liberty of approaching the master for spending money that the mistress normally gave her. This was unaccounted petty cash that was given to her to run the household. With this money she would buy vegetables and fruits from roadside vendors, pay for the gas cylinder and buy trinkets for herself and the master’s 11 year old daughter. It was her spending money and she used it prudently. She found nothing wrong in asking the master for money when she ran out of cash. She had lived with them for more than 20 years and had never felt that her role would ever be questioned. The mistress thought otherwise. She felt that Ammu ought to have approached her instead of the master.

“Even the children do not ask their father for money directly” she said. “How could you even think of doing so?”

Initially Ammu did not read much into her words but there was a subtle change in her attitude. She found fault with everything Ammu did and stopped talking unless absolutely necessary. Finally she packed Ammu off to her brother’s place saying that since two of her three children were married and a daughter in law had arrived on the scene, they could manage without her.

As expected Ammu did not get on well with her brother’s family and came back after a month. Things were never the same but considering her selfless service to the family they found her accommodation in a home for destitute women and I hear that she is happy over there.

This brings me back to the question I asked earlier. Chinna and Ammu were able to gel with their adopted families. May be not exactly adopted but both were treated well by the family they lived with. Chinna was loved by his foster family and so was Ammu. In Ammu’s case the difference could have been sorted out but it appeared that there was no real intention of resolving the issue. It was not as if her mistress felt threatened or insecure by her presence. The only reason I can think of is the class difference that marks out a servant from the master. Had she been a relative like Chinna her lapse may have been overlooked. I feel that treating a servant like a family member is not the same as accepting her as one.

I may be generalizing the issue and each case of adoption may be different. Like in a TV program where the real mother and adopted mother were fighting a custody battle, it was the adopted mother who said that it was well past the child’s ‘milk’ time and even if she did not get the child back she would request the real mother not to let the child go hungry.

“He cannot wait till I mix the milk powder in hot water, cool it and pour it into the bottle and give him. We can sort out our differences later. Please give him his milk first” she said.

And I was left wondering if it was fair to give the child for adoption and place a claim for the same child without a thought for the woman who brought him up like her own. Who was the real mother, I wondered? Was it the one who worried about the child’s hunger pangs or the one who was reclaiming the child after initially abandoning him?

I guess there is more than one correct response to this question.

Dilemma............

I can see it coming. My extension of service I mean. With a chance of my service being extended by 3 years (we will know in a month or two) I am in a terrible dilemma. Do I need to continue? Or should I quit? I am putting down the pro and cons with the hope that my readers will give their unbiased opinion.

When I started working I was impressed by the students in their undergrad and intermediate courses. Those were days when Biology was a preferred option and students may not have aspired for a great career but were nevertheless very focused in their lessons. Salary was less and I would be terminated during summer and Durga puja vacations. But my job was very satisfying. I cannot say the same now. With the IT boom came highly paid IT jobs and basic biological science is no longer preferred however much we talk about global warming and conservation of the ecosystem. I draw a decent salary and if the govt. wants to retain me for three more years should I stop worrying about a satisfying career and pocket the money that comes my way?

My children in foreign shores are looking forward to my retirement and hope that I would be able to spend some time with them without complaining about having no leave. Grandchildren are a treat to interact with right now. Three years from now they will outgrow this phase and may not even have time for me.

Husband is a home bird without a friend’s circle of his own. He is also looking forward to the day when we could have breakfast and lunch together.

What then is stopping me from putting in my papers?

I have a minor research project that will keep me engaged till Nov. 2013. I am the co-investigator and cannot run away from the responsibility I willingly took upon myself. Once that is over I have just 2 more years so I may as well continue.

My pension amount will be decided on my last drawn salary. And with the 6^th pay yet to be implemented that is going to make a difference.

I have carved a niche for myself and quitting it may not be easy. I need to decide fast and prepare myself to face the consequences. I cannot help praying that the extension of service is either never announced or announced after Jan. 2013. Ideas???