A petition for a way of life...

There used to be a time when R finished work for the day and came home by 6:30 PM. After that, he was totally available to the rest of us and he also had time to unwind...relax. Weekends were 2 full uninterrupted days. We could plan around it, and be reasonably certain that we could make it happen. There were the occasional 'install' days when he would have to work late on a Friday. That was almost exciting for it meant he would take the car that day, and I would have a day off from driving...or me and Winkie would enjoy a late night drive to pick him up. This was even before Thambi was born. Of course by now, you would have guessed at my train of thoughts and where this post is heading.

Yes. Today, life has completely changed from those idyllic days of the past. I don't know when it began or how...but working hours got progressively longer and erratic. Even if he was home by 7:00 PM, it didn't mean that he was available or free. Weekends could not be called a weekend anymore. It became just like any other regular day...only he worked from home, and at first the kids could not understand that this was still serious stuff. It took a few more months for this fact to sink in. Things got so bad that he was soon working round the clock. The worst time that I remember was during Christmas break last year. It was so bad, what with the kids falling majorly sick and R being so wound up in his work, and the most slowest time of the year being the busiest of all for us.

I know he is lucky to have a job today. I know it and I feel it and I am grateful. But the price at which this comes in today's recessionary times is very heavy indeed. It seems to spell the death knell for true family time. I also understand how difficult it is for most people in this world, who have it so much harder. But knowing that, while giving some perspective, does not always make it feel better inside. Today, even after the end of a major deadline, we spend our time with a dread for the phone ringing. For if it rings, there's a very good chance that it may be for some issue that has cropped up, that needs to be fixed. Weekends come full of promise, only to be cut short for time spent in front of the laptop. Sometimes he comes home and its already 8:00 PM and a hot dinner awaits, and we think he's gone upstairs to change, but he has to steal a few minutes to run something in the background and keep an eye on it. By this time, the boys and I have finished our dinner, the kitchen is cleared and his dinner sits on the table, cold and uneaten. By the time he comes down again, it is time for us to go upstairs to bed.

Even as I write this, I realise that the boys are still lucky to "see" their dad every evening, because that's not how it is in every home. While a huge part of me whines about this huge inconvenience, a smaller part of me whispers about the unfairness of my complaint. But I just want to put it down, because it bothers me so much. We have never hankered after an expensive lifestyle. No fancy house, or cars, or gadgetry, or exciting holidays, or even dinners out. We live a very very simple life and I am happy to keep it that way. I just want R home every evening at a decent hour, and once he is home, I want us to have his time and company, the way we used to before. And I want it now, while we are all still young and in the prime of our life.

So since I want it so much, and since its taken me such a long time to accept that to myself, I did something about it last night. But first, a small digression...

Those of you who have read Eat Pray Love by Elizabeth Gilbert may recall that incident in her life where she was frustrated beyond frustrated about her husband not singing the divorce papers. Their marriage was long over and it was dragging because of this and causing everyone much hurt. And she wished out loud that God would just intervene. That He would just step in and end the misery. But she couldn't bring herself to ask Him for such a specific thing because it constituted a lack of faith in His ways. Her friend, who was infinitely wise and driving the car at the time, told her in no uncertain terms, that it was all ...errr..._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _!!! (that specific substance that comes from the backside of a bull...you know what I mean!) That she had every right to ask because she was such an intrinsic part of the universe and it was her birthright to ask. So prompted by that, she began writing a petition in her head, asking God to end the marriage with a final stroke of the pen, making her husband sign it. And then she signed the petition in her head and what's more, imagined that every one of her friends and family had signed it too. Every person she thought of signed that petition for her. She even called on famous personalities and noble souls....all to her cause, and they all signed it. By the time it was all done, she got sleepy and dozed off. In less than 1/2 an hour...her cellphone rung. It was her lawyer on the phone, and when she picked up, the first words she heard was....He signed it.

Yes, it hits you pretty powerfully doesn't it...this feeling? It doesn't surprise me one bit and yet, made my skin tingle in the profundity of that moment. Its true….when you want something, when you really, heartachingly, desperately, all out surrender-edly want something, the Universe conspires to give it to you. It has happened to me before, even when I didn’t know I wanted it so much. But the trick and the secret to asking….is asking with a sort of desperation which comes only when you have nothing else left. The secret is of total and utter surrender, the kind that is very very hard to do and feel, because we are so used to holding the reins, and the thickness of the ego is so hard to penetrate. The secret is in the deepest depth of sorrow, of raw pain that leaves you all hollowed out, and in the most unstoppable tears and choking, hurting sobs. And to get to that moment, things in life have to drive you to it. People have to be mean, experiences have to be unfair, sorrow has to mount and everything has to sort of reach a fever pitch of desperation and despair.....a cumulation of experiences that sucks the life force out of you, little by little, until you have nothing left but to surrender….and ask….and beg….and exhaust yourself, until there is nothing but silence and emptiness and bleary eyes.

I am not at this point yet not, but I have been in life before, as I am sure we have all been at some time or the other. I am not at this point yet, but I felt weary enough to want to ask. And so, like Elizabeth, I wrote a petition in my head. I asked God to give my husband and his time back to him…and his family. I asked Him to give him a break and a breather. I asked Him for our old way of life again. Where we all worked hard during the day, but unwound together every evening. And then I signed it. And I made everyone I know sign it. (Yes, I took many of your names too!) I asked some famous personalities too…though I don’t remember whom now. Everyone signed happily and when it was all done, and I couldn’t think of one single name more…I felt this delicious tiredness creep over me, and the last thing I remember is that I closed my eyes in its welcome.

Let’s see what happens now…

If you’ve managed to last this far, and feel the tiniest shred of empathy and don’t think I have a flair for the dramatics, I hope you’ll want to sign this petition too….! For all those families around the world, which don’t get enough time to be a family, on behalf of all those Dads who put in long, strenuous hours, to bring home a paycheck and prove themselves during this time, for all those people whose way of life has undergone paradigm shifts because of this recession, for all of you who go through a similar set of trying circumstances within your own homes….please sign this petition.

A different kind of thoughtfulness...

Thursdays are book check out days at Winkie's school library. And for every Thursday of the last month, he has never missed out on doing this one thing. Every Thursday, in addition to checking out a book for himself, he also checks out a book for his brother, without fail.

Its really sweet and on several counts. First of course is the thought...to include his brother in this little ritual that's a part of his own individual life, apart from our family life. Second is of course, are the books that he chooses. For himself, its always a big boy book of some sort. A book about tools, or one about airplanes or a story that runs into many many pages that Thambi wouldn't have the patience to sit through. And for Thambi, its always a more baby kind of book, and mostly about animals. And this is one thing I love noticing....how he views himself and views his brother through this choice of books.

But perhaps the epitome of his thoughtfulness is the actual titles that he picked for Thambi. Thambi has some favorites from our local library which I have picked out and read to him on occasion. And this guy has remembered the names, located them somehow in his own library and brought back home Goodnight Gorilla one day, and books from the Little Quack series another time. And to reward him for all his efforts, Thambi gives him the most thrilled of responses...dropping whatever he is doing at that time in a flash, rushing over to grab the book, squealing out a delighted....Itta Quack!!!!....or.....Yaaay!! Doonight Doyilla!

And on some days, when his mood was especially good, he even sits him down to read it to him, himself. Sigh. Forget the mush of a moment like this....I just breathe in the peace of these rarer times, when they stop fighting for a bit, when they stop getting in each other's faces, and just learn to 'be' with each other, without any conflict....This is truly the time when all the stars align in perfect tandem , with the optimal push and pull on their little personalities..

Updates...

Its been one week since Amma came and I sort of wish I could go back in time to this time last week. The feeling of anticipation was so sweet even with all my muddled feelings. She's settled into a routine with us now and fit herself seamlessly into our lives. Its amazing how she does that. How she drops everything about her life back in India, flies 22 hours all the way here and takes up life here as her own. Mothers are amazing. Period.

Winkie was the one who was super thrilled about her coming. He kept counting down and his excitement reached fever pitch as he set off for the airport. I believe he greeted her by wrapping himself around her legs to hug her. Thambi, I thought, was still unaware of what was going on, but it looks like he was very much clued in. He did understand that someone was coming, and that someone's name was Hema Patti. And when he saw her at the airport, he went over to her arms when she held out for him. And they've been inseparable ever since. Its the nicest, sweetest thing to hear him call out to her for everything...whether it be to fix his toy, or fix his milk, or pat his booboo or go out for a walk with him. I am loving this complete handover of my duties. Loving it!! The food is simple home food, but oh! what a difference it makes when somebody else cooks it!!!

The day after she arrived, I had my first physical therapy session. She stretched out my muscles (heaven!) and taught me a couple of exercises to loosen out the joints. And since the doctor had said that I could now exert full pressure and take up any activity I did earlier...the first thing I did was to get rid of that big black duck boot and just wear the ankle braces and a shoe around the house. Loads better and I took my first real steps with it, with the crutches at first, and then in a few days, even that came off. So now, I walk on my own, without support, climb up and down the stairs holding on to the railing and drive R to the station every morning, like before. And in between, I take it easy...do my exercises and put my feet up when it gets sore. In one short week, I have reclaimed pretty much all aspects of my life before. Today, I drove myself to my therapy session and it felt so normal....like it was not even a big deal...but still, every step I take, I rejoice in it. I still walk with a limp, but its getting less pronounced each day. The only reminder of the fracture are the intensely stiff and sore feet muscles and I guess that's what therapy is for. I have to start thinking about when to get back to work. Truth be told, I am not so eager about it...this quiet, slow paced time at home, with my old mobility back is really wonderful. I need to nudge myself slowly out of this reprieve. Maybe a couple of more weeks? :)

Thambi on the other hand officially starts school with Uma on Vijayadasami day (Monday). Again, here is something that is of profound significance in our life and it is happening without the customary fireworks that I usually build up to. Everything seems so normal and not novel. Hmm.

I also went through a lot of peer pressure w.r.t Winkie and extra classes and Kumon etc. It seems like everyone in the world is doing it and its almost unheard of now if your child isn't enrolled in it. Kumon sounds fantastic and I know for a fact that it helps a lot with speed in Math amongst other things (no offence to anyone), but on a personal consideration...I find that it is expensive and if its worksheets they are getting back home for practice over and over and over again till you get it right, then I am prepared to spend that kind of time with Winkie on my own with a little bit of research from the net. First grade math, ain't rocket science, that is for sure. And so, with that immensely peaceful resolution, I lift that burden off of myself and plan about a 1/2 hour of after school time for me and him, so we do a little something different everyday. I'll write more about that in a separate post.

For now, this is a week's worth of updates from our end! Ciao!

Amma...

The thing that was a concept is no more. It is now real. She is here. I have yet to see her, but every second brings her closer to home, with the 50 mph on the freeway. And I don't know why it feels so strange. Strange to think of becoming a daughter again, when I am just so used to being a mother myself. Will it be easier for her? Will the joy flow unhindered at the first impact of face to face, where now the distance still makes the thoughts so complicated? There is such a bridge to gap between a warm voice in the phone to the warm smile in person. I know I should be happy beyond expression, and I guess I do feel happy, but its submerged in a subconscious that seems to render it null and void. Sometimes I wish I wasn't such a grown up...that it would still be easy to lose oneself in the raptures of emotion, letting go without a thought, expressing and feeling without a care...

Maybe I should just float quietly to that point of impact, without submerging further in these thoughts....focus on making some tea to refresh, keep some rice on the stove for the dinner tonight, and maybe light some incense and fill the house with its fragrance....as a welcome for her...

Progress...

Imagine this scenario...a member of the family injures herself and needs to rest for a good bit of time. Lay back, take it easy and let the others take care of things for her. No added strain and pretty much complete rest. And she does. For a good one month. Just like the doctor said. And then the doctor says she can slowly start getting into the hang of things again...at her own pace and as she feels strong and able. Now she is happy to hear that...but also vividly afraid. Is it not too soon? Doesn't the injury need more time, more rest?? Yet, she wishes to take the doctor's advice and start slow...but start nevertheless. Only, the rest of her family is not as willing. They find it hard to accept that she is better, that she can improve her functionality again. They are willing to keep the show going for some more time. Let her not strain herself just yet. We are here....we'll help some more.

Now such a help is a nice thing. Even a welcome thing. But it has its place in the scheme of things. And if it precludes you from testing your own strength, then it might have overrun its benefits. Not only that, it has the added effect of undermining your confidence in your self. If someone insists that you need more help, then you begin to believe it slowly...maybe I do need more help, maybe I am not strong enough to do this on my own...

But this is just a complicated, roundabout way of throwing light on a certain relationship in my life. The relationship between my mind and my left leg. :) (what'd you think???). This dynamic has been playing between the two of them ever since my doctor's appointment 3 weeks ago, when he said I could start putting some pressure on my foot and begin to take a few steps. What??? Already???...I thought. But my leg is still broken!!! You can't be serious! It took some time to realise that what he was suggesting wasn't such a heinous thing after all. That it was possible to take a measured step and test my strength. And after nearly 10 days of preparing mentally, I did it. And it wasn't half as bad as I thought it would be. 25% pressure, 30%...50%....and today almost 90%. I am yet to make it to 100 and I know it won't be a huge deal. And yet it will be...because it marks the passage of the strength of mind over matter. And matter over mind.

Today I had my 6 week appointment. Yes that's right...I made it to 6 weeks, and I don't want to get into the cliche of saying that it flew right by or that every second dragged. It alternated between the two, just like with anything else and now here I am. X-rays are looking better, and the foot is looking and feeling better too. Word is that I can get out of the boot, get into ankle braces and embrace a more regular life, albeit slowly. Ashes and Sparkly are reaching the end of their tenure, and the same battle of mind v/s matter continues w.r.t letting go of them as well, but I know that I will wean off...slowly, but surely. Over the past week, I have reclaimed other aspects of my life. I moved back up to my bedroom and climb (not with my foot) the stairs every morning and every night to the cosy room painted in the softest swathe of green, which never fails to calm me. Showers have once again become a part of my life and I cannot get over how good that feels. *sigh*

My mother is coming tomorrow and she will be here with me for 2 months. I will make use of this time to begin my physical therapy and get back into action gradually. The boys are super excited about her coming and Winkie has his countdown going. For me, it is still a concept and the reality of seeing her hasn't struck. All in good time. For now, there is enough progress under my belt and I am glad for the rest that preceded it!

Reincarnation...

Reincarnation was something I have always thought and pondered about endlessly and only after reading Meher Baba's Discourses did I come to terms with what it actually meant in the great scheme of Existence. That people die and experience a vivid afterlife, reviewing the details of the life they left behind, learning from it, storing the wisdom gathered and resting their soul for a while, before an opportunity comes their way once again, to gain rebirth and attain a form to expend the impressions gathered from the previous lifetime...all this made sense and was understood, at least on a theoretical level only after 30 years of life.

So when my 6 year old casually told me all of this in a gist in an unexpected turn of the conversation yesterday, it is fair to assume that I was stumped!

It came about so innocently. We were talking about school. He missed school yesterday because he missed the bus and I was telling him that he would need to make an effort to show up everyday, else his Principal might consider striking his name off the roster and admit another student in his place. He was quiet as he absorbed it and a few minutes later said....

When I am a baby again, will I go to the same school?

I heard what he said, but wasn't sure of what he was implying and some prodding later, he repeated his question, his tone one of patience, as if he was an adult, talking to a child, simply and clearly, the better to be understood...

When I die and go up and when I come back to this form through your tummy...when I am a baby again...will I still go to the same school?

" “You don't have a soul. You are a Soul. You have a body.” ~ C.S. Lewis
"

And there it was. Just as I had suspected I had understood, but clearer all the same. That was the beginning of one of the most spellbinding conversations I've had in a while. I was surprised and amazed at his use of the word 'form'. Its not something we've ever broached in conversation with him before, and yet he knew the right word for it. I asked him more about what he thought, and he came out with this entire theory of death and reincarnation. Meher Baba put it in many beautiful, complex yet stunning words, and I heard the same, much more simply...making it...not a matter of assimilation from a book, but a knowledge that just springs from deep inside. There can be no other explanation for it, for we have never discussed this subject with him before and I doubt the 1st grade curriculum covers this mystifying concept in any detail. :)

He explained that forms come and go. They live for a long time on this earth and when they grow old, their time is up. And so they die and rise up again. (He demonstrated all this with movements of his hands....his long, slender fingers moving high above his head, showing the passage of the soul into the after-world.) There, they wait for a while, and when a mother and father decide to have a baby, these 'people' come down again and take their place in the tummies, to be born again as a baby....only to have the same process repeated, as they grow old.

These were pretty much his exact words. And he spoke about it all with a quiet certainly and a very palpable confidence, that wasn't loud as much as it was sincere. I was quiet. I must have held my breath through it all. When the silence was broken, it was to ask him where he heard that from. Nowhere...was his reply. I just thought of it...he added with a knowing smile, sensing that I was impressed. I called R down and he repeated his theory. R listened too, unable to suppress his smile and his wonder. We marvelled over it in a private conversation this morning.....realising, and putting into words the soundless understanding of what had crossed our minds many times before. That here was a soul that was vastly superior to our own...descended from that quiet place to help us learn...to catch up...to speed up our understanding...to evolve more in the process and refine the wisdom that he has already come into this world with. Here was a soul that spoke from the whisperings of his Inner Guidance, not needing the wordy knowledge from a book to understand this most basic, most logical flow of Existence, the way only a soul in the Simple...and in the Light can.

*********************************************

[For those of you interested in assimilating the Knowledge in this life altering book, your time will be worthily spent perusing these pages at your leisure and in depth. You will not be disappointed. There are 3 volumes of this book online and you can browse by subject or in the flow presented. I consider this book a landmark phase in my own spiritual evolution of the recent past.]

09/09/09

Dear Lady of the Two Nuts,

On this day, what is on its way

To wish you well everyday

From now to the next year

To wish you the best of cheer

In all your ventures new

Remove roadblocks from many to few

Many happy returns for this day

Its all in what's on its way!

Happy Birthday!!!! :)

[For those of you who are wondering what this is all about...well, its 09/09/09 already in some parts of the world, and this date is significant in more ways than one...being the birthday of the biggest NUT of them all, being one of them! So go on....wish her, sing her the birthday song and make her merry!]

The blogging Protege!

You know you have a potential blogger in your hands when...

...mere minutes after completing his most recent work of art, he asks for the camera to take a picture for the 'computer'!

And to think...of all the legacies I can leave him, it has to be the this! *sitting at the table, hands on the head, wondering when this happened!*

This self made little man!

They went on a little walk that first day that she was here. She knew he needed a little breather outside and it was my own particular request. The minute he heard the word tata, he had worn his shoes, waved me a very matter of fact goodbye and gone on his way. They set off walking, probably at a slow steady pace, maybe stopping every once in a while to admire the water on the lake, or the way the evening sun cast its glow on it, perhaps even stopping a minute to watch the ducks that were having their customary evening swim(?). Bear with me, as I mix and match real events, with my own fond conjuration of the scene, to pave the way for the description of what happened next...

She knew there was a park nearby, from what I had told her, but not sure in which direction to head. So after a few minutes of walking, she decided to head back. Our little man, by this time, was perched on her hip, what with all the exertion of the walking and all. *eyes rolling*. But the minute she turned back, he set up a loud protest and started crying, pointing instead to the opposite direction, asking her, wordlessly, to go that way. Fond aunt that she was, she couldn't say no and disappoint him, so she walked ahead, just the way he wanted. Another few minutes and there didn't seem to be a sign of a park anywhere, and she again turned to head back. And again the same scene...the tears, the pointing of the opposite direction, the wordless entreaty to keep going...and again, she gave in, resolving to walk just a little bit more for his sake, and then turning back, no matter what. And those few crucial yards forward brought them both in the vicinity of the local park. A big open expanse of ground with the park nestled into a corner of it...almost deserted for that glorious weather and that time of the evening.

The minute they saw it, he goaded her forward, almost saying...see, I told you it was right there! She was stunned. Had a 2 and 1/2 year old just given her the directions on how to get there? Had he really pushed her against her decision to head back to encourage her to head forward, just a little bit more and it would be right there??? It seems so. When they reached the park, he went around it, like it was his second home, calling her over to show her all his tricks...learned from times spent here in the past. Which in this summer has not been that many actually. Throughout the whole 3 months, we must have been there like 2 times. And yet, he had known the route and known how to instruct someone whom he had gotten used to for just a few hours, and made her listen to him.

In much the same way, earlier that morning, when I was still asleep and he was already up, he told her exactly how he wanted his milk. In which cup and what colour, where the cup could be found, how he wanted the lid on, and that he wanted Hershey's chocolate syrup mixed with his milk. Everything from start to end, perfectly specified, so that on her very first morning, one of the first things she learned, even before how to make that perfect batch of coffee, was how to make that perfect blend of warm chocolate milk for our little chocolate boy!

In addition to his sense of independence and knowledge of his own mind, is a little something more...something even greater....his ability to adapt to a situation most foreign to him. Right from the way he has taken to my broken leg, to the way he forged his affections with all the people who came home to look after us, to giving people he is not accustomed to, his precious trust and his priceless smile and love....he has a way of melting your heart. Do you know he goes to Uma now? That is a milestone in itself, and yet it went unpublished thus far. The arrangement is still an unofficial one....he has not formally started school with her yet...but he has begun to spend long days there, for almost 2 weeks now. Under regular circumstances, I would have eased him in...maybe 2 hours at first, then a little bit more and a little bit more, until he was spending the requisite 4 hours there every weekday morning. But no. Under these altered circumstances, he got dropped there that first day, alongwith Winkie, and spent a whole day there. A whole 8 hours, or breakfast, lunch and snacks in the evening, till it was 6:00 PM and time to come home. And he took it in his stride. His babyness did shy at that point of initial impact, that moment of handover from one familiar, loving shoulder to another wholly unfamiliar, yet loving shoulder, who promised him that he would be okay. And he was. He was okay. And all this while he is still on silent mode, while there...not speaking a word beyond the ones that require him to communicate his needs of thanni and chu chu and thaacchi. He talks with his eyes....Uma said, and conveys a world of expression in them. I know that to be true. You just have to be subjected to 5 seconds of his intense, deep, penetrating gaze, to know that he looks right into you...to the place where it really matters.

You've trained him well...she told me, and I almost died from the embarassment of receiving a compliment that didn't really belong to me. He's taught himself Uma...I told her. I had nothing to do with it. He is his own little man.

He is his own little man.

I have always known, that his name wasn't just a name....it was a promise of what he could become, and the most natural expression of who he is now. He is a self made and self taught little boy...learning things naturally, without the formal trappings of a milestone, absorbing simply from his environment, and fueled by his own innate desire to try things on his own. He sings, he counts, he uses the bathroom like a little pro and adapts to any and every situation with a fluidity that would put the most graceful dancer to shame. If 'awe' isn't the word from the meager dictionary that he invokes....then I don't know what is!