THE DIARY OF A HOUSEWIFE

Sending my son off to school for the first time was, as I mentioned in an earlier blogticle, one of the most heartrending moments of my life. However, this feeling has not prolonged …what with my son being so happy in school. Seeing him so attached to his teacher gladdens my heart no end. Before he started his school the only thing I prayed for was not the facilities in the school, not an air-conditioned classroom, and lots of homework, but a teacher who was loving, caring and affectionate. The learning of course would follow. If a child finds himself in a nurturing and caring environment he is bound to learn easily without any effort. Henry Brooks Adams says “ A teacher affects eternity; he can never tell where his influence stops .” How true is that! On the other hand, it is also true that “ Good teachers are costly, but bad teachers cost more. ”  ~Bob Talbert The smallest thing or action by a teacher remains with us forever. Thus, it also holds so true that while ...

The Indian Air Force celebrated its 80th Anniversary two days ago! A classmates memories of a posting we all cherish reminded me of an article I had written about 5 years back... Life they say goes a full circle!   For me it certainly has, pleasantly, besides. Oh yes it has, in getting me to Staff College (Wellington, Tamil Nadu) twice with twenty-three years gone between! Many wives have been at DSSC twice or even a more number of times so how, you may ask is my double stint here unique and what am I so animated about? Not very difficult to figure it out if you really tried; or as Sherlock Holmes would have put it “Elementary, my dear Watson”, (not that too many Watsons would be reading this though). So, how come twice with such an interval gone by? As a daughter first and then a wife of course! Isn’t that exciting though? The salubrious climes of Wellington have not changed much; or have they? I wouldn’t really know for a girl of some 10 odd years - during my first ti...

Having gone through it the first time I thought it was going to be easier this time around. But I was just deceiving myself…handing over my little piece of heart to someone I have never met before is one of the hardest, most traumatic moments of one’s life, I have now realised. Every article, every book out there talks about separation anxiety felt by a toddler the first day of playschool or kindergarten, but very few if any mention the distress felt by a parent when he or she sees her little darling being carried away in a stranger’s arms into a strange new place. It was heartbreaking to see my son’s beseeching eyes full of questions, full of terror, full of fright…his total shock and bewilderment at why I was leaving him behind in a place he had never seen before. That day I asked myself the same question again and again. Why did I have to do it? I couldn’t even begin to imagine what he was actually going through, what he was thinking about. I can still picture him (ac...

Why, Why Why… So many questions with no answers… So many problems with no solutions… So many mysteries with no explanations… So many disputes with no resolutions… Why, Why, Why… Why, Why, Why… I ask and no one answers… I stand up but no one else does… I solve but no one wants to know… I resolve but no one listens… Why, Why, Why… Why, Why, Why… Do I have so many questions… Do I have so many problems… Do I have so many mysteries... Do I have so many disputes… Why, Why, Why… Why, Why, Why… Am I looking for answers… Am I searching… Am I investigating… Am I resolving… Why, Why, Why… Why, Why, Why… Can’t I just find the answers in myself… Can’t I just end the search… Can’t I just look within myself… Can’t I just make peace with myself… Why, Why, Why…

Seeing child beggars on the street is a gut wrenching experience which I generally try not to think about and want to forget quickly, for each time I see them I wonder what these children have to go through and what their lives entail. Who are the people who have driven them to this? Has heartless society forgotten them? Aren’t children supposed to be in school, learning to prepare for the hard long life that lies ahead of them? What makes it so disheartening is the fact that I feel totally helpless and to be truly honest, don’t really know what I should do when those tiny hands blackened with dirt and grime, open up to beseech whatever I can spare for them. Looking at them I only see little children, just like all other children in this world. I see little faces filled with hope and dread at the same time…eyes full of the innocence which only the youngest of our species can dare to possess…minds which know no better and hearts which have yet not hardened, but are about ...

Life, I have realised, is just like my daily ride to work in an auto-rickshaw. Some days are good, some are so-so and some days are really quite ghastly. And if you are still trying to decipher my meaning and scratching your intelligent heads…all I am trying to say is my journey in the auto is very similar to the journey of life. Up and down it goes the same as those little vehicles driven by mostly nice people and then sometimes very rude and nasty people. Mostly I dread the little things with the very obliging drivers who are convinced that they are indispensable, but then I do admit I can’t do without them, given the peculiarity of my situation. The freedom from the stress of driving my own vehicle is too addictive. And so I leave myself at the mercy of the advice spouting, sometimes polite, sometimes horribly foul-mouthed, spit-sprayers many a times. (What a spray they can spurt!) Whatever the pros and cons, the one hour or so that I spend with the Auto-rick...

Nirja dear, I see your concern for the downtrodden increase by the day, a good sign indicative of how you have grown in your compassion for the underprivileged and the oppressed. Which brings me to the question as to why do perfectly normal, educated and intelligent people indulge in female infanticide and other heinous acts? The Bhagwad Geeta explains it very well. In verse 36 of chapter 3, Arjuna asks Krishna “Impelled by what O Krishna, does man commit sin even against his own wishes, as though driven by a force?” Krishna replies “It is desire-lust: it is anger born of Rajas: it is insatiable and grossly wicked. Know this to be the enemy here in this world.” When the desire for acquiring anything grows out of proportion, it degenerates into “lust” to fulfil that yearning; then whatever stands between that longing and its realisation, becomes the target of anger. In anger, our ideals are overwhelmed and we pitilessly compromise them. Justice, truthfulness, honesty, uprig...

सत्यमेव जयते नानृतम् सत्येन पन्था विततो देवयानः । येनाक्रमत् मनुष्यो ह्यात्मकामो यत्र तत् सत्यस्य परं निधानं ॥ Truth alone triumphs; not falsehood. Through truth the divine path is spread out by which the sages, whose desires have been completely fulfilled, reach where that supreme treasure of Truth resides. (The above quoted Sanskrit verse is from the Mundaka Upanishad ) With tears in his eyes and truth in his words, Aamir, I feel, turns the key to viewers’ hearts – viewers whose humanity has remained firmly under lock - every Sunday. With his heartfelt rendition of what some may brand as just another “reality TV” show, he (Aamir) has begun something that should have never have needed such a big push to set in motion, in the first place! Nevertheless, I will go along with the saying, “ देर आए दुरुस्त आए ” (better late than never). Can the human race be actually given classes on being humane, civilised and benevolent, rising above the pettiness of it all? Seeing the...

T he other day my friends gave me a pleasant surprise when they called me up to chat with me from the US. They were taking some time out from their busy schedules to spend time together. Reliving old memories we had a very fun filled, giggly 40 minutes on the phone. If we could do that on the phone I can’t help but smile conjuring up the image of the three girls, now mothers and career women, spending the weekend together under one roof with nothing to worry about and think about but our school days. The smile stayed with me for a long time assuaging all my anxieties and tensions of the day. Long forgotten yet still vivid memories came rushing to the fore making me wish we were all together reminiscing those days. All of us were amazed at the instant and bewilderingly fresh recall of our silly escapades, the people we knew and the crushes we had. I now understand why most (not everyone) consider them the best days of their lives. Not that it means life is not good now ...

In my quest to be an extraordinary human who leaves her mark on the world, I fear I have turned out to be just the opposite…an extraordinarily ordinary human! Who you may ask is an extraordinarily ordinary human? According to the dictionary the word “ordinary” signifies many things which include being of common or established type or occurrence; familiar, everyday, or unexceptional; uninteresting or commonplace. Now adding extraordinary to the word ordinary I can say that I am exceptionally or remarkably of common or established type or occurrence; familiar, everyday, or unexceptional; uninteresting or commonplace. Many of us (and I wouldn’t dare to say that most of us) have that special yearning to do something special, something so impressive and incomparable that we stand out from among the ordinary crowd. I am no exception; and there I believe is where I become one of the crowds, one of the many who want to do so much in life but never somehow end up doing anyt...

Heather and her beautiful loving family have been through a lot and have through all of it never lost the spirit of living. I want to thank her for sharing a part of herself and her family with all of us. I'd heard the saying "It takes a village to raise a child" more times than I can remember in my life. However, it wasn't until after my beautiful daughter, Lily, was born, that an unexpected event changed my life. It was through this event that I truly understood the meaning of the statement. I saw firsthand a living, breathing representation of my own personal "village" show up at a critical point of my life. My daughter was born on August 4, 2005 and my husband and I were thrilled of course. Unfortunately, my happiness was short lived. It was only three and a half months later when I received news that would change my life. November 21, 2005 was the day I was diagnosed with cancer. The cancer I had was malignant pleural mesothelioma , a can...

Why? My hubby often asks me, am I in the kitchen most of the time even though I have a fulltime maid and cook (he is no chef). It’s a question I never ask myself as in cooking I find a pressure relief valve as no other; let me explain. My love for cooking aside, I have always seen cooking as a creative art wherein I can challenge myself to do better each time I chop, whip, beat, fry or bake. And above all this, cooking has come to my aid as a friend many-a-times. Those depressing days when I was stressed, filled with negativity and anxiety, it has acted as a balm to soothe my nerves and rein in my ever uncontrollable emotions and feelings. And if all the blogs and articles I have found on the net are anything to go by I am not the only one who thinks so. Julie Powell, set out to whip up every recipe in legendary chef Julia Child's cookbook when she felt stymied by her own problems. The blog and book that resulted, "Julie & Julia," are portrayed in a fil...

Nirja, here's a poem I wrote many years ago in praise of the Indian housewife. We had never met before but when I proposed, you consented to be mine. We had to spend a lifetime together and you knew me not but, you consented to take the plunge.  You were among strangers when I got you home, yet you consented to hang on. I could not arrange a honey moon for us,  but you consented to remain home to share  your personal space with us, the family. My folks wanted me for themselves, they  exluded you, yet you gladly consented to be  part of us.  You have no demands, no needs, and have consented to be mine forever and ever in this and many more lives - oh! thank you my love, I'm so grateful. In return I pray to God to choose you and you alone always and every time in our after life. I can only hope that you will consent when he asks of you.   

Author: Elizabeth Spoor Found this lovely poem on the net. As an Air Force wife can't help but identify with it.  i sit here and think of you day after day trying to find the right words to say i know things are hard, i know things are rough when duty calls, times on our family are tough its so hard to comfort you so far away when it feels like our lives are in such disarray it kills me to watch you walk out the door knowing your going to a far distant shore i fear for your safety, i fear for your life guess that's part of being an army wife just a bit selfish i may seem to be but all i want is you home with me you provide for our family, you keep us from harm risking your own life, your weapon in arm you never have any concern for yourself putting you own fears aside on a shelf you fight for our country, our freedom, our lives   while still making sure that our family thrives you always call home every chance that you can j...

I have very few friends, blame it on my upbringing, or the fact that my father was in the Air Force and we never stayed in one place long enough to make many friends. We have always been a close knit family preferring to keep to ourselves, thus the lack of ability to make long lasting friends. This lack of ability has always nagged me and I have tried to go the extra mile for people I liked. That of course is another topic altogether. My search for my best friend ended when I met my husband. I talk to him about everything, sharing my innermost sometimes even what may be considered shameful secrets, thoughts and troubles. I am the most comfortable when I am with him and we have a great relationship. He has been a guide and a teacher. He has encouraged me especially through the dark and hopeless times. He has always been there for me through the thick and thin of it all, through all the travails of life, putting me above all else. I am not the easiest person to live with...

As a parent   struggling with the challenges of parenthood, this story is truly inspiring. I have always believed that hitting children can never teach them what is good and what is bad. Violence is always a short cut resorted to by most of us to lighten the onerous but very satisfying task of parenting. On the other hand shouting and screaming is also a violent method of controlling children and that is one thing I as a parent have not been able to control. Being firm and shouting at the kids are two very different things. This incident yet again proves that I have so much to learn as a parent. Dr. Arun Gandhi, grandson of Mahatma Gandhi and founder of the M.K. Gandhi Institute for Non-violence, in his June 9 lecture at the University of Puerto Rico , shared the following story as an example of "non-violence in parenting":  "I was 16 years old and living with my parents at the institute my grandfather had founded 18 miles outside of Durban ,...

I have been a mother to a handsome smart boy for over eight years now and became a mother all over again some two years ago to another bundle of joy, my second son. All along I thought I was doing a great job of being a mother but then doubts have begun to assail me because of all the criticism and suggestions that seem to flow freely from all around. So, the thought what entails being a good mother, has been troubling me for a while. What was it that I was not doing? Criticism though well-meaning and well placed can be very hurting and brings about loads of self doubt. Does every action that you take as a parent warrant close scrutiny? Well that’s what all the parenting guides and information on the net will have you believe. If they are to be blindly trusted you have to be a supermom who just like Superman flies about doing 1000 things at one time, has X-ray vision to see through all, has looks to die for and above all has the time to romance the love of her life. Well, that’s...