Coincidence?

Whoever said there are no coincidences in this world!!

Yesterday as I was checking my email, there was a soft "plop" sound to indicate I'd received an Instant Message. I replied without much thought because it was from a friend of mine, or so I thought! After the usual small talk, I realised that this was not my friend, though their first names were the same, S.

So, I told this lady that she had me confused with someone else, so thank you, bye bye...But she was like, hey, no, I know you...from childhood, we were from the same town.

Now I have a friend who has the same name as mine and who, I knew, was from the above town. I asked S for some more details and it turned out that yes, she was looking for that Raj! So I directed her to the correct Raj and hopefully, they've reconnected!

So, now as my friend Raj later said, "She could have chatted with any Raj, but it turned out to be a Raj who knows the Raj she wanted to know about."

How's that for coincidence???

Ladies First?

All windows in our apartment open out to a street. Along the street there's a narrow path which the residents use for strolling, jogging, cycling etc. I often catch interesting glimpses of the goings on from my window.
One of the regular features is elderly Indian couples going for walks. We have a large Indian community in our apartment complex and so, there are many "grandparents" visiting from India at any given time.
Now the funny thing I noticed about these couples (most of them, not all) is that though they are taking a walk together, they're not really "together". The husband usually is a few steps ahead of the wife, both walking in their own little personal spaces. Forget holding hands (too mushy by Indian standards anyway), they are not even talking to each other. I don't know if the men even check back to see if their wives are with them or not?
It's not just the older generation. I've seen some younger men too, who stride ahead blissfully unaware that his wife, usually laden with grocery bags/baby/stroller, is lagging way behind. I wonder what's the big hurry? Isn't it rude to walk off when someone is coming along with you? Would you do that to a friend? A colleague? I don't think so ! Then how can you do that to your life-partner?
I remember a European friend of mine commenting on this once. She was astonished to see that when an Indian couple in our neighborhood was coming back from the laundry, the husband was empty-handed, walking way ahead of his wife while she staggered behind with a basketful of washed clothes. My friend was amazed at the insensitivity of the guy and asked me if all Indian men were like that. I, of course, was surprised at the observation because honestly, if I had seen something like that it probably wouldn't even have struck me as unusual because it is pretty common in India. But nevertheless, there are chivalrous, polite, considerate men everywhere, even India and I told her as much.
But really, after seeing umpteen examples of the above I do wonder if phrases like "Ladies First" are just that...phrases!!

Teachers' Day

It's been a long time since I wished anyone "Happy Teachers' Day" but the fact is that I do remember my teachers on this special day, every year. Especially my favorite ones, the ones I'll never ever forget.

Ms.Feroza Kothari: My very first teacher, when I was in LKG, or Jr.KG as it is known today. I remember she used to wear lipstick and one inspired day I insisted on wearing it to school. My mom never wore lipstick and I don't know from where I found any but there I was, with colored lips, in front of Feroza Teacher. My mom apologised to her (it was obviously against the rules) and explained that I couldn't be dissuaded. So Feroza teacher gently took me aside and said, "Look, if you want to wear lipstick because I do, then consider the fact that I am a grown up. You are only 4. If you want to wear lipstick, all you have to do is wait till you are as old as me, ok?" Somehow, her words worked like magic and I went to the restroom to wash the offending color off!

Ms.Sheela Vaidya: She came from a family of teachers. Her mother and sister were both teachers in our school. Her mother, Mrs. Vaidya, was especially known and feared for her stern demeanor and corporal punishments. But Sheela teacher, oh, she was something else! She was intelligent, patient, gentle and heart-breakingly beautiful. Tall and willowy, she looked like a dream in her pastel sarees and rice-pearl necklace that she would twirl around her fingers while teaching. It's been so many years but it's all so crystal-clear in my mind. She was our Maths teacher in Std. 5 all the way to Std.7. We girls used to fight over who would give little gifts of flowers (plucked from our home gardens) to her. She was everyone's favorite. So much so that when she quit her job to get married, we all begged her not to leave. And actually protested when the new Maths teacher came to teach us. I feel sorry for the new teacher now, but there was just no way she could compare favorably with Sheela teacher.
P.S.: I came to know only recently that Sheela teacher was highly popular among the boys too! Wink Wink!

Mrs.Gowri Ramanath: Our physics teacher in Std.11th. I never thought physics could be so interesting as she made it! She was small, but like a tiny bundle of energy, always bouncy and chirpy. She told me, we're teacher-student inside the school, but outside, we're friends!! Gowri teacher, I still treasure that friendship!

Mrs.Visalam Vivekanand: Our Biology teacher in Std.9th. Calm, graceful, knowledgable, encouraging...she was all that and more. She knew how to make the most complex things so simple that we could understand and remember it for ever. One thing I remember about her very well is her telling the class to observe how I used every minute of my time to do something useful. I think of that these days all the more because she'd surely change her mind about that if she saw how I lazed around and wasted precious time doing nothing.

Even though I may not mention all the other teachers who have touched my life, I do remember them....almost everyday, sometimes. I wonder where they are and what they are doing now. And whether they remember me? I would like nothing better than to get in touch with them and tell them that they made a difference in my life.

But since I can't do that, for now, I pay my tributes via this post.

Thank you, my teachers. You will always be in my heart.

Indoor Rainbow

I was in the bathroom this afternoon when my son started knocking on the door most urgently. "Mommy come quick!! There's something I want to show you!" he yelled. I came out impatiently, ready to tick him off for hurrying me from my business but then I heard what he was saying.

"There's a RAINBOW in the living room!!", he said, with all the bright-eyed excitement that we adults somehow lose when we grow up. I was intrigued and followed him to the said room. He pointed to the ceiling where there was this glittering patch of multi-colored light created by sunlight falling on some shiny surface outside in the patio. It was beautiful!! I love to see rainbows in the sky and go childishly crazy when I see one after it rains. Just think, I told myself, you would've completely missed this lovely little rainbow on the ceiling if not for Rohan's delightful little heart!!
It is true..even if I had spotted this colorful band, I would've probably not given it another look. It was the child's unadulterated joy and way of looking at the world that made me look at it that way too...Truly, beauty does lie in the eye of the beholder!

Dilemma

A routine visit to the park became something more interesting the other day. Last week we happened to visit a town where we used to live a few years ago. On a whim we decided to take our son to the very same neighborhood park where we used to take him everyday when he was a toddler.

As we walked to the children's play area, I saw a woman, maybe in her late 40s or early 50s, dressed in a yellow salwar-kameez with her dupatta wrapped around her head, sitting alone on a bench. Hubby started playing with kiddo and I sat down on another bench a little way off.

Then this lady turned towards me and asked in Hindi, "Are you Indian?" I said yes and she started chatting. I walked over to her and we talked for a long time. Well, mostly it was she doing the talking I nodding and mumbling some appropriate response. Usually it's rare that I am at a loss for words, but that day, somehow I didn't know what to say. Here was a complete stranger, a much older woman, asking me for advice, out of the blue!!

This lady was from a small village in Pakistan, visiting her son's family in the US. She was basically very lonely here and just wanted someone to talk to. She said that she came to this park everyday and sought out Indians/Pakistanis and talk to them. Today I was the only Indian in sight. She told me all about her family, her children and grandchildren, her life in Pakistan etc. She had 4 sons, out of which only one remained in the hometown; all others were in different countries abroad. The son in USA has sponsored her for a Green Card and she was here as a permanent resident now.

She told me that back in her village, women could not go out of the house. Even if they did, they had to wear the burkha. She marvelled that here she could get out of the house and walk wherever she wanted. I told her she was so lucky that she could experience all this...that her son and daughter-in-law loved her so much.... But the poor lady burst into tears at this, saying she missed her daughters who were back in Pakistan, unmarried, "still in Jail while I am free here." I was a little taken aback but tried to comfort her saying she could always visit them and then come back here. Now this is when it got really confusing for me.

She started saying that she hated it here because she was so lonely. "Nobody talks to anybody here. People don't go to each others houses. Even kids don't enter their friends' houses. How do people live like this?" she asked. She said all her relatives told her she was lucky but she didn't think so because her sons were all so far away from her. She asked me, "You tell me, what should I do? I'm telling my sons to come back to Pakistan and run their uncle's sweet shop. They can make money there too." I managed to say something like, "Your sons have a good life here, they are happy here, isn't that important? You can stay here for part of the year and spend the rest in Pakistan. Get your daughters also married to guys who live in the US or UK if you feel that they are "Jailed" there so that they can also experience freedom." I don't know how much sense I made to her, if at all. Maybe the lady just wanted to vent her feelings..if so, I hope I helped. But I was thinking about her for a long time.

I could understand her loneliness in a new place, where there were very few people who looked like her, dressed like her, talked her language, not to mention who have the time to care. I could also understand her guilt at enjoying "freedom" while her daughters couldn't step out of the house, and her worry about getting them married.

But then, from the sons' point of view, how fair was it for the mother to emotionally blackmail them to come back to Pakistan? I don't know what kind of job they have here but assuming it is a technology job, would they be happy running a sweet shop in a village? It's not just about money, it's also about doing what you like, living the way you want to.

In end of it all, I myself ended up all jumbled up... wondering if I was ever in such a position, what would I do?