Born and brought up in Mumbai, I have been a Mumbaikar at heart, no matter where I went. Whenever I returned to Mumbai after a long time, I would breathe in the sea scented, yet inevitably polluted air of Mumbai, which would hit one like a blast furnace, and instantly feel at home. Mumbaikars usually cannot imagine going away from the city and settling elsewhere. I, too, never thought I would. Until my wedding was fixed.
My fiance, now my husband, was working in Bangalore, and had declared that he had no intentions of coming back to the crushing rush of Mumbai with its sauna like weather. So I moved to Bangalore as a newlywed, but my heart yearned for Mumbai. This was more than two decades ago. Bangalore was a pretty laid back place then, and I missed the energy of Mumbai. Slowly, though, it began to get under my skin and in my veins, and I began to put down roots here.
I learnt the language - I can speak well enough to communicate with my househelp, autowallahs and the greengrocer, though the kid and the husband still laugh at my Kannada. I made new friends, learnt to appreciate the nuances of Karnataka's cuisine - all of south cuisine, actually - and learnt a lot about the natural beauty, heritage sites and history of my adopted state.
Today, Bangalore, now officially in its new avatar as Bengaluru, is what I call home, though Mumbai will never be taken out of my heart.
Happy Karnataka Rajotsava Day!
Showing posts with label choices. Show all posts
Showing posts with label choices. Show all posts
01 November, 2014
21 November, 2012
Of rising above a parent's life-choices
How many parents think about how their life choices affect their children? I am not speaking of parenting choices here. I am speaking of choices that we make for our self, or those that are made for us by significant others in our life. How much will my not working, despite a professional degree affect my daughter's life? Would that bare fact mold her thinking, or will the reasons behind that make a difference? Will she be able to see things from my POV?
Speaking for myself as a daughter, I began to really understand my mother only after I became a parent, and a lot more as I am growing older. I can now look beyond the strict parent whose strictures I so resented to the woman behind the facade. She is an intelligent, strong, principled woman, unfortunately married into a family that could never understand her - yes, my father's side was, and still is strongly patriarchal, and has managed to stifle my mother. I have very recently begun to appreciate the fact that her choices were often not real choices, and a lot of what I remember was a function of the times she lived in. Of late, I have been having conversations with my father about how he could have done differently by her. He, too, I realise now, was a victim of the system, and actually thinks that things were fine. He listens to me, fortunately, me being the favourite daughter.
Children like to make up stories. Watch a bunch of kids play-acting and one is amazed at the imagination and creativity they come up with together. What if there is the possibility that the story might be real? What if the story turns your view of the world upside down?
Here's a book that made me introspect: what do my actions convey to my daughter? Do my unfortunate choices taint her life? Do the good ones uplift her? How much is it possible for a child to lift themselves above the effects of their parents' choices?
Hitler's Daughter
Written by Jackie French
Published by HarperCollins Children's Books
Ages 8-12
Mark, Anna, Tracey and Ben play a story game as they wait for their school bus every day. They have stories of fairies, of ball games and of horses. Until one day Anna decides to tell a story. It is an amazing story set on the fringes of a great war. It is the story of a child growing up tucked away from all the action, a privileged child who is kept safe despite not being the blue-eyed, blond, tall Aryan ideal, a child hungry for family and love, holding on to memories of the few-and-far between visits of her father. A father who obviously is somebody important. Important enough that people around her who have always taken care of her are in mortal fear of displeasing him. We are told early enough that the child, Heidi, is Hitler's daughter.
Anna's story focuses on the genocide from the outside in, raising many questions in Mark's mind. What if one's parent or child has done something really evil- how does one deal with such a parent/ child? Does one love them regardless? Do the sins of our parents taint us irrevocably, or is there redemption? Do the actions of someone dear reflect on us as individuals? How does society look upon those who stand in evil's shadow? Is a bad thing really a bad thing, or are we just victims of our convictions? Do we have a right to raise our hand against someone else's questionable behaviour if we, too, might be in the wrong in our own time?
These are very profound existential questions, and Jackie French, (whom ST has interviewed here), in her inimitable chatty style, raises them through Mark's thoughts, without thrusting them at us. There are also references to Australia's own genocide- the colonial actions against their Aborigine population.
It has been so realistically told that we are left wondering if Hitler indeed, did have a daughter that no-one knows about. Also, it is an unusual look at the Holocaust; a great book to introduce them to it, along with Number the Stars and When Hitler Stole Pink Rabbit. There are no grisly portrayals of the deaths, as the point of view is of a privileged, though unfortunate girl.
This page-turner of a book was devoured by A in an afternoon. She has been, since, recommending it to many of her friends.
Cross-posted at Saffrontree.
Speaking for myself as a daughter, I began to really understand my mother only after I became a parent, and a lot more as I am growing older. I can now look beyond the strict parent whose strictures I so resented to the woman behind the facade. She is an intelligent, strong, principled woman, unfortunately married into a family that could never understand her - yes, my father's side was, and still is strongly patriarchal, and has managed to stifle my mother. I have very recently begun to appreciate the fact that her choices were often not real choices, and a lot of what I remember was a function of the times she lived in. Of late, I have been having conversations with my father about how he could have done differently by her. He, too, I realise now, was a victim of the system, and actually thinks that things were fine. He listens to me, fortunately, me being the favourite daughter.
Children like to make up stories. Watch a bunch of kids play-acting and one is amazed at the imagination and creativity they come up with together. What if there is the possibility that the story might be real? What if the story turns your view of the world upside down?
Here's a book that made me introspect: what do my actions convey to my daughter? Do my unfortunate choices taint her life? Do the good ones uplift her? How much is it possible for a child to lift themselves above the effects of their parents' choices?
 |
| pic courtesy flipkart |
Written by Jackie French
Published by HarperCollins Children's Books
Ages 8-12
Mark, Anna, Tracey and Ben play a story game as they wait for their school bus every day. They have stories of fairies, of ball games and of horses. Until one day Anna decides to tell a story. It is an amazing story set on the fringes of a great war. It is the story of a child growing up tucked away from all the action, a privileged child who is kept safe despite not being the blue-eyed, blond, tall Aryan ideal, a child hungry for family and love, holding on to memories of the few-and-far between visits of her father. A father who obviously is somebody important. Important enough that people around her who have always taken care of her are in mortal fear of displeasing him. We are told early enough that the child, Heidi, is Hitler's daughter.
Anna's story focuses on the genocide from the outside in, raising many questions in Mark's mind. What if one's parent or child has done something really evil- how does one deal with such a parent/ child? Does one love them regardless? Do the sins of our parents taint us irrevocably, or is there redemption? Do the actions of someone dear reflect on us as individuals? How does society look upon those who stand in evil's shadow? Is a bad thing really a bad thing, or are we just victims of our convictions? Do we have a right to raise our hand against someone else's questionable behaviour if we, too, might be in the wrong in our own time?
These are very profound existential questions, and Jackie French, (whom ST has interviewed here), in her inimitable chatty style, raises them through Mark's thoughts, without thrusting them at us. There are also references to Australia's own genocide- the colonial actions against their Aborigine population.
It has been so realistically told that we are left wondering if Hitler indeed, did have a daughter that no-one knows about. Also, it is an unusual look at the Holocaust; a great book to introduce them to it, along with Number the Stars and When Hitler Stole Pink Rabbit. There are no grisly portrayals of the deaths, as the point of view is of a privileged, though unfortunate girl.
This page-turner of a book was devoured by A in an afternoon. She has been, since, recommending it to many of her friends.
Cross-posted at Saffrontree.
22 March, 2012
Book review: Cinderella Ate my Daughter
I would like to thank Utbtkids for introducing me to this wonderful book.
Consider this. A cousin, who is a parent to three girls aged 12, 8 and 3, has always picked up girlie stuff for her daughters. Pink, frilly dresses, tutus, barbies, disney/barbie toys, dresses, fashion accessories, all the latest disney/barbie movies/dolls' houses, barbie add-ons, barbie UNO cards(??), decor in all shades of pink- baby pink, magenta, fuschia, crimson, carmine, cerise, rose...you name it. Even hot pink cakes for every birthday. Bratz stuff, shiny lip gloss and nail polish (for these age groups??) - such pride on the mother's face when she recounts her children's obsession with dressing up and hair-dressing! I am often chided for not getting all the pinky-pink stuff for my daughter, that I should lighten up and let 'a girl be a girl'! She is welcome to have her opinion, of course! Not for me, though.
Things are made more difficult by the burgeoning in-your-face hard-sell of all things pink. Or rather all things stereotypical. Parents, beware. The people to decide what your kid plays with, how s/he plays, how s/he dresses are not you, but commercial establishments who have invested big money in the business of deciding this for you. So much so, that sometimes there isn't any choice in the matter.
In her book, Cinderella Ate My Daughter, Peggy Orenstein (see blogroll on the right side for her wonderful blog) discusses this wide-scale commercialisation of gender stereotypes, the messages it passes on to the hapless, impressionable children, (of both gender) the long-reaching effects of this stereotyping, and the way this industry is fed by the hopes and aspirations of every parent who buys into it.
Cinderella Ate My Daughter
dispatches from the front lines of the new girlie-girl culture
Written by Peggy Orenstein
Published by HarperCollinsPublishers
Gender stereotyping is not a new thing. It has not begun with the culture of all things girlie. It is as old as civilisation- maybe even from before civilisation. Gender stereotyping has its roots in biology. A woman can give birth to and suckle her baby, a man cannot. So the woman stayed at home to take care of the baby, ensuring the propogation of humans, while the man ensured survival in terms of providing for food and protection.
However, what began as a matter of convenience and an equitable division of labour that worked wonderfully well for the survival of humans, has evolved slowly but surely into something that denies human beings their most fundamental right- of being humans. The world gets divided into the masculine and the feminine, each strait-jacketed into our notions of what is right or wrong for each.
In an out-and-out patriarchial society like ours, this has always featured big. We already have a million ways to perpetuate gender stereotypes. We do not need another way to achieve the same.
Good girls don't do this, they don't do that- so many social restrictions based on gender- Oh, yes, there are these for boys, too. They don't have it easier. Real boys don't cry, real boys cannot play with dolls...I could go on. Resulting in aggression as the only acceptable emotion for them to show- crippling them emotionally!
Paradoxically, the girlie culture has its roots in the feminist movement. Barbie, in fact, was introduced in 1959 as a symbol of feminist aspirations(throwing off the shackles of domesticity), and was then targeted towards teenagers. Soon, though, Barbie, (astronaut, scientist, doctor, etc. in her initial avatars) and her successors were no longer a sign of empowerment- there was a definate element of sexualisation coming in. Girls who played with them were getting younger and younger and more impressionable by the day- of course putting the dolls off the radar for the original older age groups. Making it that much more difficult to contain and deflect the subliminal messages that were being sent to these children.
A short-sighted view of the princess/barbie culture provides a vision of empowerment. After all, our kids think it is so 'cool' to emulate the way Barbie dresses. So 'cool' to know about the latest in celebrity activities. Hannah Montana becomes a goddess. Paris Hilton, Lindsay Lohan, Britney Spears, Miley Cyrus,...the latest pop icon become role models. Not yet 3-yr-olds aspire to be like these idols. Ordinariness, simplicity is seen as totally 'uncool.' After all, who wants to be an old-fashioned so-and-so? So stereotypical!
Commercialisation, of course, demands that where there is a demand, there has to be a supply- so that profit can be made. After all, that is how it works in a capitalist set-up. Crass comercialisation takes it a step further, and feeds on the social weaknesses that come disguised as another step in empowerment.
'The pursuit of physical perfection was recast as a source - often the source - of young women's "empowerment." Rather than freedom from traditional constraints, then, girls now were free to "choose" them. Yet the line between "get to" and "have to" blurs awfully fast. Even as new and professional opportunities unfurl before (the girls), so does the path that encourages them to equate identity with image, self-expression with appearance, feminity with performance, pleasure with pleasing, and sexuality with sexualisation.'
... by the time they are teenagers, the girls (quoting a study by Deborah Tolman, a Professor of human sexuality studies at the City University of New York) respond to questions about how their bodies feel - questions about sexuality or desire - by talking about how their bodies look. They say something like, "I felt like I looked good." Orenstein says, "My fear for my daughter, then, is not that she will someday act in a sexual way; it is that she will learn to act sexually against her own self-interest." Something seen in victims of low self-esteem, and not a sign of empowerment.
Sounds eerily like something the manusmriti has advocated for the female half of the population long long ago, doesn't it? We have plenty of our own misplaced ideas and beliefs to correct without complicating things in this way, thank you very much!
So what's with the pink and blue? Let us consider here a discussion on children's fashions in the past few hundred years.
Disclaimer: The next two paragraphs have much to do only with patterns of fashion in the western world. India has a very different story - a veritable study in ethnology ... but that is a subject for an entirely different post. Suffice here to say that the pink v/s blue debate with all its history has made an entry to our country quite recently - though making waves enough to start worrying.
In the west, children of both genders wore only white, at the most, shades of grey, up to 6-7 years of age, for a very practical reason: soiled clothes could be cleaned only by boiling them, and coloureds were a waste. The styles were also similar, much like dresses, with boys' clothes buttoned up in the front and the girls' buttoned up behind. When pastels came in, both genders wore all colours. Around the time of WW1, pink was actually associated with boys, as it was considered a watered down version of red, a colour associated with strength and bravery.
Yet, today, all things feminine are associated with the colour pink - a belief that we have to thank Nazi Germany for. Just like they made it compulsary for Jews to put on a yellow Star of David to distinguish them, they issued pink stars to those men that they believed were homosexual - these too were part of the reprehensible Final Solution. This gave pink a 'non-masculine' tag, and was equated with all things feminine. This, of course, has been exploited by marketing divisions of companies like Disney and Mattel to widen the divide and create a market for girl things and boy things. Not just toys and clothes, but every b****y thing!
Let me put one thing straight. I have nothing against pink, and I think it is a beautiful colour. I have no problems using something pink, on the stipulation that it does not have the associations I have spoken of. Same goes for orange, grey, turquoise, white, green, blue, red, black, yellow, violet, and any other hue of the rainbow. Speaking of rainbows, pink is not even a colour from the spectrum- there is no wavelength that translates to pink. It is a trick played by our brain, that interprets a mixture of the wavelengths for red and violet as magenta, a deep shade of pink. Experimentally, this can be created by superimposing two different spectrums created by two prisms. Try it. Go ahead- click on this link to read the complete explanation. It's fascinating!
I would just like to mention a couple of things from the book at the end.
Cinderella's story as we know it is the one popularised by Charles Perrault. He, in turn, based it on a tale from the Grimm Brothers' collection of folktales and fairy tales. The tale of Aschenputtel, a fiesty girl who does not wait around for any fairy godmother or the prince to rescue her- complete with gory bits, now sanitised for our consumption to the point where we have a good and beautiful but wimpy heroine.
Peggy Orenstein also dedicates the last chapter to do-able remedies against the unstoppable and unavoidable onslaught of the girlie culture. And keeping in mind the natural rebelliousness of the fast-growing but impressionale children whose lives can get impacted.
Consider this. A cousin, who is a parent to three girls aged 12, 8 and 3, has always picked up girlie stuff for her daughters. Pink, frilly dresses, tutus, barbies, disney/barbie toys, dresses, fashion accessories, all the latest disney/barbie movies/dolls' houses, barbie add-ons, barbie UNO cards(??), decor in all shades of pink- baby pink, magenta, fuschia, crimson, carmine, cerise, rose...you name it. Even hot pink cakes for every birthday. Bratz stuff, shiny lip gloss and nail polish (for these age groups??) - such pride on the mother's face when she recounts her children's obsession with dressing up and hair-dressing! I am often chided for not getting all the pinky-pink stuff for my daughter, that I should lighten up and let 'a girl be a girl'! She is welcome to have her opinion, of course! Not for me, though.
Things are made more difficult by the burgeoning in-your-face hard-sell of all things pink. Or rather all things stereotypical. Parents, beware. The people to decide what your kid plays with, how s/he plays, how s/he dresses are not you, but commercial establishments who have invested big money in the business of deciding this for you. So much so, that sometimes there isn't any choice in the matter.
In her book, Cinderella Ate My Daughter, Peggy Orenstein (see blogroll on the right side for her wonderful blog) discusses this wide-scale commercialisation of gender stereotypes, the messages it passes on to the hapless, impressionable children, (of both gender) the long-reaching effects of this stereotyping, and the way this industry is fed by the hopes and aspirations of every parent who buys into it.
 |
| Pic courtesy flipkart |
dispatches from the front lines of the new girlie-girl culture
Written by Peggy Orenstein
Published by HarperCollinsPublishers
Gender stereotyping is not a new thing. It has not begun with the culture of all things girlie. It is as old as civilisation- maybe even from before civilisation. Gender stereotyping has its roots in biology. A woman can give birth to and suckle her baby, a man cannot. So the woman stayed at home to take care of the baby, ensuring the propogation of humans, while the man ensured survival in terms of providing for food and protection.
However, what began as a matter of convenience and an equitable division of labour that worked wonderfully well for the survival of humans, has evolved slowly but surely into something that denies human beings their most fundamental right- of being humans. The world gets divided into the masculine and the feminine, each strait-jacketed into our notions of what is right or wrong for each.
In an out-and-out patriarchial society like ours, this has always featured big. We already have a million ways to perpetuate gender stereotypes. We do not need another way to achieve the same.
Good girls don't do this, they don't do that- so many social restrictions based on gender- Oh, yes, there are these for boys, too. They don't have it easier. Real boys don't cry, real boys cannot play with dolls...I could go on. Resulting in aggression as the only acceptable emotion for them to show- crippling them emotionally!
Paradoxically, the girlie culture has its roots in the feminist movement. Barbie, in fact, was introduced in 1959 as a symbol of feminist aspirations(throwing off the shackles of domesticity), and was then targeted towards teenagers. Soon, though, Barbie, (astronaut, scientist, doctor, etc. in her initial avatars) and her successors were no longer a sign of empowerment- there was a definate element of sexualisation coming in. Girls who played with them were getting younger and younger and more impressionable by the day- of course putting the dolls off the radar for the original older age groups. Making it that much more difficult to contain and deflect the subliminal messages that were being sent to these children.
A short-sighted view of the princess/barbie culture provides a vision of empowerment. After all, our kids think it is so 'cool' to emulate the way Barbie dresses. So 'cool' to know about the latest in celebrity activities. Hannah Montana becomes a goddess. Paris Hilton, Lindsay Lohan, Britney Spears, Miley Cyrus,...the latest pop icon become role models. Not yet 3-yr-olds aspire to be like these idols. Ordinariness, simplicity is seen as totally 'uncool.' After all, who wants to be an old-fashioned so-and-so? So stereotypical!
Commercialisation, of course, demands that where there is a demand, there has to be a supply- so that profit can be made. After all, that is how it works in a capitalist set-up. Crass comercialisation takes it a step further, and feeds on the social weaknesses that come disguised as another step in empowerment.
'The pursuit of physical perfection was recast as a source - often the source - of young women's "empowerment." Rather than freedom from traditional constraints, then, girls now were free to "choose" them. Yet the line between "get to" and "have to" blurs awfully fast. Even as new and professional opportunities unfurl before (the girls), so does the path that encourages them to equate identity with image, self-expression with appearance, feminity with performance, pleasure with pleasing, and sexuality with sexualisation.'
... by the time they are teenagers, the girls (quoting a study by Deborah Tolman, a Professor of human sexuality studies at the City University of New York) respond to questions about how their bodies feel - questions about sexuality or desire - by talking about how their bodies look. They say something like, "I felt like I looked good." Orenstein says, "My fear for my daughter, then, is not that she will someday act in a sexual way; it is that she will learn to act sexually against her own self-interest." Something seen in victims of low self-esteem, and not a sign of empowerment.
Sounds eerily like something the manusmriti has advocated for the female half of the population long long ago, doesn't it? We have plenty of our own misplaced ideas and beliefs to correct without complicating things in this way, thank you very much!
So what's with the pink and blue? Let us consider here a discussion on children's fashions in the past few hundred years.
Disclaimer: The next two paragraphs have much to do only with patterns of fashion in the western world. India has a very different story - a veritable study in ethnology ... but that is a subject for an entirely different post. Suffice here to say that the pink v/s blue debate with all its history has made an entry to our country quite recently - though making waves enough to start worrying.
In the west, children of both genders wore only white, at the most, shades of grey, up to 6-7 years of age, for a very practical reason: soiled clothes could be cleaned only by boiling them, and coloureds were a waste. The styles were also similar, much like dresses, with boys' clothes buttoned up in the front and the girls' buttoned up behind. When pastels came in, both genders wore all colours. Around the time of WW1, pink was actually associated with boys, as it was considered a watered down version of red, a colour associated with strength and bravery.
Yet, today, all things feminine are associated with the colour pink - a belief that we have to thank Nazi Germany for. Just like they made it compulsary for Jews to put on a yellow Star of David to distinguish them, they issued pink stars to those men that they believed were homosexual - these too were part of the reprehensible Final Solution. This gave pink a 'non-masculine' tag, and was equated with all things feminine. This, of course, has been exploited by marketing divisions of companies like Disney and Mattel to widen the divide and create a market for girl things and boy things. Not just toys and clothes, but every b****y thing!
 |
| Magenta, an extraspectral colour pic courtesy biotele.com |
I would just like to mention a couple of things from the book at the end.
Cinderella's story as we know it is the one popularised by Charles Perrault. He, in turn, based it on a tale from the Grimm Brothers' collection of folktales and fairy tales. The tale of Aschenputtel, a fiesty girl who does not wait around for any fairy godmother or the prince to rescue her- complete with gory bits, now sanitised for our consumption to the point where we have a good and beautiful but wimpy heroine.
Peggy Orenstein also dedicates the last chapter to do-able remedies against the unstoppable and unavoidable onslaught of the girlie culture. And keeping in mind the natural rebelliousness of the fast-growing but impressionale children whose lives can get impacted.
14 February, 2012
Of friends and books
Spent Valentine's day lunching with friends- Choxbox, Sangi and Starry, who have somehow over the period of the past two years metamorphosed from blog-pals to dear friends. Who know me. Who I know will not refrain from pushing me to do what I should be doing, what is right. Keep at it, ladies. Thanks for believing enough in me to nag. Much appreciated. I need it so much to overcome my inertia.
*****************************************************
February 14th was also the International Book Giving Day, a day to pass on new & used books to friends, relatives, strangers, your schools, libraries, or a favourite charity. Pass on the love of reading and books. A perfect day to celebrate. Check out what one of my favourite book bloggers, Zoe, did for this day.
Me? I gave a copy of one of my favourite Enid Blyton books, House at the Corner, to a very special boy. This book is partially autobiographical, as Blyton has taken many situations from her own experience of childhood in a dysfunctional family. The closest she has come in her fiction to her reality. This relatively unknown book by her is a must-read for anyone who enjoys her work.
I have also put together quite a few books to give away to A's school library.
*********************************************************
Here's to friends- those that we choose to be with- with two books having very different potrayals of friendship.
When I asked A to recommend the first book that came to her mind about friends and friendship, she promptly said- "Winnie-the-Pooh."
Winnie the Pooh / The House at Pooh Corner
*****************************************************
February 14th was also the International Book Giving Day, a day to pass on new & used books to friends, relatives, strangers, your schools, libraries, or a favourite charity. Pass on the love of reading and books. A perfect day to celebrate. Check out what one of my favourite book bloggers, Zoe, did for this day.
Me? I gave a copy of one of my favourite Enid Blyton books, House at the Corner, to a very special boy. This book is partially autobiographical, as Blyton has taken many situations from her own experience of childhood in a dysfunctional family. The closest she has come in her fiction to her reality. This relatively unknown book by her is a must-read for anyone who enjoys her work.
I have also put together quite a few books to give away to A's school library.
*********************************************************
Here's to friends- those that we choose to be with- with two books having very different potrayals of friendship.
When I asked A to recommend the first book that came to her mind about friends and friendship, she promptly said- "Winnie-the-Pooh."
Contrary to the image of Pooh Bear, the Bear of Very Little Brain, as the fiefdom of very small children (no thanks to the Disney version of Pooh), Pooh belongs to everyone from 0-adulthood.
Winnie the Pooh / The House at Pooh CornerWritten by A. A. Milne
Illustrated by E. H. Shepard
Published by Puffin / Dutton books
Ages: 4+ read-aloud, 8+ read-alone
These stories are a labour of love- written by an indulgent father for his son Christopher Robin Milne, and featuring his collection of toys. I'm sure most parents would have at some point in time made up stories for their own children, with them featuring large in them.
As variegated a collection of friends as possible, staying in the wonderfully named Hundred-Acre-Wood. Muddleheaded Pooh with just one thing on his mind- food. A scaredy-cat Piglet, who can be the most courageous at times. A very Bouncy Tigger, who makes everyone want to 'unbounce' him at times. Rabbit, who can take his workaholic and irritating ways to limits at times, but has his heart in the right place. Wise Owl, who everyone goes to when in need of some timely help. Kanga- affectionate, yet a stickler for discipline- the perfect mother figure. Grumpy Eeyore, who seems dry on the outside, but a softie inside. Roo- the littlest one of the lot, who gets into many scrapes with the irrepressible Tigger.
A. A. Milne, though, contrary to what the books lead us to believe, was not a hands-on father to his son. He was usually absent from active bringing up of the boy, and the tales he has woven were around Christopher's escapades that his mother would narrate to her husband. If the stories are so wonderful, imagine how much more so they would have been, if Milne were to be physically there to take part in these.
A case for a father's involvement in child-care!
A. A. Milne, though, contrary to what the books lead us to believe, was not a hands-on father to his son. He was usually absent from active bringing up of the boy, and the tales he has woven were around Christopher's escapades that his mother would narrate to her husband. If the stories are so wonderful, imagine how much more so they would have been, if Milne were to be physically there to take part in these.
A case for a father's involvement in child-care!
A suggestion- by all means, watch the Disney versions, but read the books to enjoy the gentle humour and wonderful characterisation. There is no substitute.
Lord of the Flies
Written by William Golding
Published by Faber & Faber
Ages: 15+
A chillingly dystopian book, whose writer, William Golding was awarded the Nobel prize for literature.
Set during WW2, a plane carrying children evacuating to a safe place crashes on an unknown island. The pilot, the only adult, is killed. The children are left to fend for themselves. What begins as an adventure (reminding one eerily of the Enid Blyton adventures where only children feature) slowly but relentlessly descends into a primitive desire for power and survival.
None of the children, except those in a choir group, have ever met each other before. Unlikely friendships are forged; those seemingly most like each other ending up bitter enemies, not even stopping at murder. Again, a diverse group of characters, who bond and repel in the most unexpected ways. With echoes of the cat-eat-rat mentality seen in many of today's children. Friendships gone wrong. Survival of the fittest.
Image courtesy flipkart. Crossposted at Saffrontree.
29 September, 2011
Violence against Women Awareness Month
Violence against Women. It has a universal ring to it- be it physical or emotional violence. It does not matter if the women are white, black, brown or yellow, rich or poor, young or old. The story is the same all over.
A group of women have decided to speak up against it, and October has been earmarked for an awareness campaign about Violence against Women.
The team is cognizant with the fact that the subject of violence against women is very huge and includes multiple aspects. To ensure that this awareness campaign is effective, the scope is limited to the following aspects….
1. Domestic violence – Physical violence against the woman by husband/partner and other family members
2. Violence against girl child including deprivation
3. Sexual violence - including marital rape, date rape
4. Emotional/psychological abuse
5. Dowry related violence including Bride Burning
6. Female Infanticide
7. Acid attacks
We would be delighted to have your support for VAWM Oct 2011. The plan is similar to CSA April 2011. We have a blog (http://www.vawawareness.wordpress.com/) on Violence Against Women where we invite guest posts, expert posts and anon survivor stories.
We also would urge bloggers to post on this topic on the blog all through October, first announcing the awareness campaign and second, posting on any aspect of this topic they feel strongly about.
We also have a twitter handle (@VAWMonth) which will tweet information about VAWA and invite experts, NGOs, counsellors, etc to take questions.
Do let us know if you would be interested in participating, and how would you like to participate. Also, if you have any leads to NGOs or organisations you think we should partner with do let us know.
The email to write in to is vawawareness@gmail.com.
Do post about this initiative on your blog, and use the above image to link to the VAWM blog. Also, if possible, do put the link up on your side bar. Help to spread the word.
I will, of course, be sticking to reviewing a few books that are related to the topic, some written by experts and some by survivors. Some may even be fiction.
I am painfully aware, of course, that for every survivor who has come out with her story, there will be thousands who are facing violence mutely every day, some of them with scars that last a lifetime, and many thousands for whom the violence proves fatal- either the way of homicide or suicide.
There may be millions more who may not be actively facing violence in its injurious form, but being discriminated against for the simple fact of being born a woman-- little, piffling things that can eat away at one's self-esteem, not having real choices, and being criminalised for the choices that they do make from the ones left to them. All of which can have debilitating repurcussions, preventing them from ever being able to tap their full potential. Something that is commonplace in most homes. Subliminal violence, I would call it. Insidious, and all the more dangerous for that.
I would like to share this, too. Yesterday, I was sitting in my usual place near the children's play area in my complex, reading a book that I mean to review. A lady from the complex, with whom I was on just a nodding aquaintance, came by and showed interest in the book I was reading. When I told her about this initiative, she came up with a surprising (actually not so surprising) question. According to her, the women who have any access at all to a blogpost were women with at least some priviledges. How does this 'armchair variety of awareness' help the common woman? Does it seriously have a trickle-down effect? Even if there is, isn't the change too slow to be of any significance? And for all the apparent awareness about these problems, aren't the papers everyday full of just such cases?
Any answers?
A group of women have decided to speak up against it, and October has been earmarked for an awareness campaign about Violence against Women.
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| Link to VAWM blog |
1. Domestic violence – Physical violence against the woman by husband/partner and other family members
2. Violence against girl child including deprivation
3. Sexual violence - including marital rape, date rape
4. Emotional/psychological abuse
5. Dowry related violence including Bride Burning
6. Female Infanticide
7. Acid attacks
We would be delighted to have your support for VAWM Oct 2011. The plan is similar to CSA April 2011. We have a blog (http://www.vawawareness.wordpress.com/) on Violence Against Women where we invite guest posts, expert posts and anon survivor stories.
We also would urge bloggers to post on this topic on the blog all through October, first announcing the awareness campaign and second, posting on any aspect of this topic they feel strongly about.
We also have a twitter handle (@VAWMonth) which will tweet information about VAWA and invite experts, NGOs, counsellors, etc to take questions.
Do let us know if you would be interested in participating, and how would you like to participate. Also, if you have any leads to NGOs or organisations you think we should partner with do let us know.
The email to write in to is vawawareness@gmail.com.
Do post about this initiative on your blog, and use the above image to link to the VAWM blog. Also, if possible, do put the link up on your side bar. Help to spread the word.
I will, of course, be sticking to reviewing a few books that are related to the topic, some written by experts and some by survivors. Some may even be fiction.
I am painfully aware, of course, that for every survivor who has come out with her story, there will be thousands who are facing violence mutely every day, some of them with scars that last a lifetime, and many thousands for whom the violence proves fatal- either the way of homicide or suicide.
There may be millions more who may not be actively facing violence in its injurious form, but being discriminated against for the simple fact of being born a woman-- little, piffling things that can eat away at one's self-esteem, not having real choices, and being criminalised for the choices that they do make from the ones left to them. All of which can have debilitating repurcussions, preventing them from ever being able to tap their full potential. Something that is commonplace in most homes. Subliminal violence, I would call it. Insidious, and all the more dangerous for that.
I would like to share this, too. Yesterday, I was sitting in my usual place near the children's play area in my complex, reading a book that I mean to review. A lady from the complex, with whom I was on just a nodding aquaintance, came by and showed interest in the book I was reading. When I told her about this initiative, she came up with a surprising (actually not so surprising) question. According to her, the women who have any access at all to a blogpost were women with at least some priviledges. How does this 'armchair variety of awareness' help the common woman? Does it seriously have a trickle-down effect? Even if there is, isn't the change too slow to be of any significance? And for all the apparent awareness about these problems, aren't the papers everyday full of just such cases?
Any answers?
17 August, 2011
Book Review - THE OTHER SIDE OF SILENCE: Voices from the Partition of India
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| Pic courtesy flipkart.com |
Voices from the Partition of India
Written by Urvashi Butalia
Published by Penguin Books
1998.
Urvashi Butalia, the writer, has impressive credentials. Along with Ritu Menon, she set up Kali for Women, the first feminist press in India, in 1984, and later, Zubaan Books. Born to in Ambala, India, to parents who were refugees from West Punjab, now in Pakistan, she grew up hearing stories of the Partition, which tore apart the Indian subcontinent at the time of its freedom from British rule.
She began her research as a process of making sense of her family's personal tragedy. One thing led to another, and over time she realised that what 'history' tells us of the Partition are the bare political facts: tales of warring political parties and the British involvement in the whole gory process, the loss of property and lives, the statistics of the largest mass migration in recent history and violence in the riots between the Hindus, the Muslims and the Sikhs caught in the unfortunate event.
There was not much data on the renting apart of the closely enmeshed fabric of society and the actual sufferings of the flesh-and-blood people caught in the crossfire. The feminist in her also became aware of the huge conspiracy of silence (this term has also been used in reference to the victims of that other regrettable horror of the same time, the Holocaust) that enfolded the suffering of those considered to be of 'not much account' and therefore on the margins of citizenry- the women, the children and the harijans.
"But the 'history' of Partition seemed to lie only in the political developments that led up to it. These other aspects - what had happened to the millions of people who had to live through this time, what we may call the 'human dimensions' of this history -- somehow seemed to have a 'lesser' status in it. Perhaps this was because they had to do with difficult things: loss and sharing, friendship and enmity, grief and joy, with a painful regret and nostalgia for loss of home, country and friends, and with an equally strong determination to create them afresh. These were difficult things to capture 'factually.' Yet, could it be that they had no place in the history of Partition? Why, then, did they live on so vividly in individual and collective memory?"
Ms Butalia takes us through these events as pieced together from first-person accounts of survivors. The stories seem fantastic, the violence, the bloodiness ant the loss inexplicable, as does the almost mythological account of a society where the different religions had lived together in harmony, love and trust. Surely something had gone seriously wrong somewhere for the anger to have erupted as it had, killing and maiming millions, and creating a legacy of communal disharmony, and an almost pathological enmity between the two countries which were once part of one whole. A whole that had effectively driven their colonial rulers away.
The feminist in the writer notes some very interesting aspects of the problem. Even the interviews were necessarily taken in a family setting, where men did most of the talking, and women were often silenced. While men spoke of the politics, the killings, the violence, the women's experience of Partition was largely defined by the death of children, abductions, sexual violence, honour killings, forcible co-habitation/marriages with their abductors, their making peace with it, especially after children were born of these relationships.
During their interviews, Ms Butalia tried to listen to the unsaid, the silences, the sudden breaking-off of the narrative, the nuances. "In my work, the more I looked at women's voices and found them inserting themselves into the text, the more I realised that the silences did not exist only around women, but also around others, those whose silences have been even less important to society. The search for a history of women was what then led me to a search for a history of others. The voices of women, of children, of untouchables, to me provide not only a different perspective on the history of Partition, but they also establish this history as a process, a continuing history, which lives on in our lives today in a variety of ways."
Then there was the ultimate insult to injury- the Abducted Persons (Recovery and Restoration) Act, 1949. A lot of this has been pieced together from accounts of social workers who were actively involved in the operation. Ostentiably to recover abducted women and children and return them to their families, the Act would not take into account the women's choice in the matter, something that all citizens were given upto the late fifties. After being abducted, these women often got assimilated into those families, bore children out of those relationships, but were torn from these children when they were 'recovered' to return to their families of origin. The original families would often refuse to accept these 'children of sin' which were left with their abductor-fathers. Quite often these children ended up on the streets with the other children who had been displaced or orphaned in the Partition. Both the women and children were refused the 'choice' that citizens of both countries had at the time.
First-hand accounts by some of these children, adults at the time of interviewing, underscore the same conspiracy of silence. Many of them glossed over their accounts, unable as adults to relate their memories of the horrors. Some of them, like a Sikh survivor who was just 9 at the time of Partition, had memories overshadowed by one particular incident- the death of their own familiy's hands of almost a hundred girls and women to 'save' their honour - an incident immortalised in the book and later movie Tamas.
In fact, most of these personal stories have been found to a large extent in a multitude of short stories and novellas written by many noted authors who have lived through the Partition- Amrita Pritam (Pinjar), Saadat Hasan Manto (Toba Tek Singh, Kingdom's End and other stories), Gulzar (Raavi Par and other stories), Khushwant Singh (Train to Pakistan), Bapsi Sidhwa (Ice-Candy Man), Bhisham Sahni (Tamas), and more. Many of these stories have been made into film, reaching a larger audience. Many bollywood movies, too, speak of the Partition or 'Batwara' as it is called in Hindi.
History, as told in history books, however, sticks mostly to the bare facts and statistics of the Partition. 'The other side of silence' tries to address this deficit in a more factual way, that can be corroborated, than the fictionalised accounts. Showing us that the fiction is not a very long way off reality.
More than twelve million people left their roots and migrated, about ten million of these crossing the western border. Around two million died in the violence. An estimated 75,000-1,00,000 women are thought to have been abducted and raped by men of religions different from their own (and indeed sometimes by men of their own religion). An estimated 50,000 children were born to the abducted women, an an unaccounted number of children were abandoned or simply lost. "People travelled in buses, in cars, by train, but mostly on foot in great columns called kafilas, which could stretch for dozens of miles. The longest of them, said to comprise nearly 400,000 people, refugees travelling east to India from western Punjab, took as many as eight days to pass any given spot on its route."
Ms Butalia has very honestly admitted that her work does not represent the whole of the history of Partition, but is a very personal history, her reading of the interviews she took. She also candidly admits that it is probably a very one-sided view of the whole thing, as by 1984, when she began her research, it was no longer possible to obtain access to those on the other side of the border, and cautions communal groups from using her research to reach their ends.
Here are some more excerpts from the book.
Am entering this book in the 2011 South Asian Reading Challenge at S.Krishna's books.
10 August, 2011
Mommy is guilty as charged
Ranjani had tagged me some time back. Sorry, Ranjani, for not doing the tag for such a long time. I have no excuse but my laziness.
Yesterday, however, I went out with a friend and her one-and-a-half year old son, who adores A and will keep asking for her by his pronounciation of her name every time he sees me, expecting her to be somewhere around me all the time.
We did many things (like browsing in a bookshop and picking up some books) that I know A would have loved to do with us. I kept thinking of her all the time, and was wishing it was a holiday, so that she could have accompanied us. Maybe I will take her out on the next school holiday.
Mommy feeling guilty? You bet!
According to the tag, I have to
The first time I spent some time alone without A around was when she joined school. Even there, I would say it was I who had a bad case of separation anxiety - A was ready for mixing socially, and so settled down there quite soon.
Over the years, I have grown to like the 'me time' I get when I am by myself. I find that it is essential for me to have this time for myself, to do as I please, without worrying about the kid's or the husband's schedules. Reading, morning walks, blogging, working on something interesting, browsing in bookshops, going shopping or catching a movie/theatre programme with friends or by myself, eating out sometimes. When A was younger, I also caught up on the listening to music other than nursery rhymes and other children's songs when she was elsewhere. All the things a stay-at-home-mom may do after all her chores are done!
Of course, I love the times we can spend together on days when she has a holiday. Some of the best times we have spent together are sitting together, each with her book in her hands. Yes, I have a little reader at home, and I'm glad it's so.
So I would have to really think for doing this tag. Let me see-
1. Harry Potter. A is as much into the series as I am. Only difference being, that I discovered the series in 2004, when she was just three, and she began reading them in 2009, two years after book 7 was published. True to my belief that she should read the books before she watches the movies, she has watched them all only on TV. Except for Deathly Hallows 1 & 2. She began with book 7 much after DH 1 had gone from theatres, and we are still waiting for the movie to come on TV, or for us to pick up the DVD, which we will probably do only after all the movies come on DVD, and we can buy the boxed set. Of course we finished reading book 7 at super speed in time for her to watch the last movie on the big screen. Went to watch it with Choxbox, her FB and another friend from school and her mother, all big on Harry Potter.
So I would go to watch all the earlier HP movies on big screen without her, even when I knew that she would have loved to watch them with me on big screen. That would be Order of the Phoenix, Half-Blood Prince and Deathly Hallows 1. If I count the fact that most of her friends went to these movies without reading the books, that would include Goblet of Fire, too.
2. A has never been one of those kids who pester their parents to buy something, anything, everytime they make a visit to a shop. Except when we are in a bookshop. Woe betide me if I take her to a bookshop and do not buy something that she will enjoy. So I do not plan a bookshop visit with her if I have not budgeted for at least one book for her to choose and buy. There are also all those books that are interesting enough to pick up, small enough to be read quickly, but too expensive to pick up, and sometimes for a younger age group. Think of all those fabulous picture books we have not yet got our hands on! So we take advantage of bookshops' policies which allow the customers to make themselves comfortable and read away if they may.
Considering her love of books, and of browsing in bookshops, there have been many occasions when I have gone for it alone- when I have to go to a book sale which it might not be possible to go for on the week-end, which might be in a far-off location, or if I just up and go plonk myself in my favourite book shop on a day when I need some retail therapy. Do I feel guilty? Yes, I do, indeed. As Choxbox will be able to testify, I often pick up a whole lot of books, then realising that they would be way beyond my budget, put away most of those that are for myself, and end up buying those that I know A will enjoy!
To A's credit, she has never consciously made me feel guilty about these things, taking it as gospel that the book has to be read first, and she is overjoyed when I get her something on my book-shopping trips. Yes, she makes me feel guilty about that, too. Contrarily, I would not have felt as bad if she had gotten upset about it.
That was my rather wordy take on the tag. I would like to tag Choxbox and Sangi. Both are ladies I admire immensely for their out-of-the-box thinking and from whom I learn so much. There are some more out there whom I would have loved to tag, but the rules say I have to tag two. So anyone else who wants to take it up is welcome to do so. Let us hear your mommy-guilt secrets, ladies!
Yesterday, however, I went out with a friend and her one-and-a-half year old son, who adores A and will keep asking for her by his pronounciation of her name every time he sees me, expecting her to be somewhere around me all the time.
We did many things (like browsing in a bookshop and picking up some books) that I know A would have loved to do with us. I kept thinking of her all the time, and was wishing it was a holiday, so that she could have accompanied us. Maybe I will take her out on the next school holiday.
Mommy feeling guilty? You bet!
According to the tag, I have to
- Write about 2 instances where you have put yourself before your child/ children... been a wee bit selfish.
- How did you feel? Did you feel a pang of guilt or were you comfortable?
- Tag 2 more moms
The first time I spent some time alone without A around was when she joined school. Even there, I would say it was I who had a bad case of separation anxiety - A was ready for mixing socially, and so settled down there quite soon.
Over the years, I have grown to like the 'me time' I get when I am by myself. I find that it is essential for me to have this time for myself, to do as I please, without worrying about the kid's or the husband's schedules. Reading, morning walks, blogging, working on something interesting, browsing in bookshops, going shopping or catching a movie/theatre programme with friends or by myself, eating out sometimes. When A was younger, I also caught up on the listening to music other than nursery rhymes and other children's songs when she was elsewhere. All the things a stay-at-home-mom may do after all her chores are done!
Of course, I love the times we can spend together on days when she has a holiday. Some of the best times we have spent together are sitting together, each with her book in her hands. Yes, I have a little reader at home, and I'm glad it's so.
So I would have to really think for doing this tag. Let me see-
1. Harry Potter. A is as much into the series as I am. Only difference being, that I discovered the series in 2004, when she was just three, and she began reading them in 2009, two years after book 7 was published. True to my belief that she should read the books before she watches the movies, she has watched them all only on TV. Except for Deathly Hallows 1 & 2. She began with book 7 much after DH 1 had gone from theatres, and we are still waiting for the movie to come on TV, or for us to pick up the DVD, which we will probably do only after all the movies come on DVD, and we can buy the boxed set. Of course we finished reading book 7 at super speed in time for her to watch the last movie on the big screen. Went to watch it with Choxbox, her FB and another friend from school and her mother, all big on Harry Potter.
So I would go to watch all the earlier HP movies on big screen without her, even when I knew that she would have loved to watch them with me on big screen. That would be Order of the Phoenix, Half-Blood Prince and Deathly Hallows 1. If I count the fact that most of her friends went to these movies without reading the books, that would include Goblet of Fire, too.
2. A has never been one of those kids who pester their parents to buy something, anything, everytime they make a visit to a shop. Except when we are in a bookshop. Woe betide me if I take her to a bookshop and do not buy something that she will enjoy. So I do not plan a bookshop visit with her if I have not budgeted for at least one book for her to choose and buy. There are also all those books that are interesting enough to pick up, small enough to be read quickly, but too expensive to pick up, and sometimes for a younger age group. Think of all those fabulous picture books we have not yet got our hands on! So we take advantage of bookshops' policies which allow the customers to make themselves comfortable and read away if they may.
Considering her love of books, and of browsing in bookshops, there have been many occasions when I have gone for it alone- when I have to go to a book sale which it might not be possible to go for on the week-end, which might be in a far-off location, or if I just up and go plonk myself in my favourite book shop on a day when I need some retail therapy. Do I feel guilty? Yes, I do, indeed. As Choxbox will be able to testify, I often pick up a whole lot of books, then realising that they would be way beyond my budget, put away most of those that are for myself, and end up buying those that I know A will enjoy!
To A's credit, she has never consciously made me feel guilty about these things, taking it as gospel that the book has to be read first, and she is overjoyed when I get her something on my book-shopping trips. Yes, she makes me feel guilty about that, too. Contrarily, I would not have felt as bad if she had gotten upset about it.
That was my rather wordy take on the tag. I would like to tag Choxbox and Sangi. Both are ladies I admire immensely for their out-of-the-box thinking and from whom I learn so much. There are some more out there whom I would have loved to tag, but the rules say I have to tag two. So anyone else who wants to take it up is welcome to do so. Let us hear your mommy-guilt secrets, ladies!
21 July, 2011
And for some hypnotic magic: Molly Moon
This is a fun book that was recently recommended to us by Choxbox's FB, and we were thrilled to realise that we had picked it up at the recent Strand book sale. There's a picture at the bottom of this post.
MOLLY MOON'S Incredible Book of Hypnotism
Written by Georgia Byng
Published by Macmillan Children's Books
Ages 8-12 yrs
Hardwick House, the decrepit orphanage where Molly, our 10 yr old heroine lives, is a Dickensonian place, owned and run by the mean and spiteful Miss Adderstone and Edna, the equally mean and spiteful cook whose cooking is horrible. There are other bullies, too, the older children who make life extremely difficult for the younger ones.
Molly, too, is no angel, and often gets into trouble because of her lazy and stubborn ways, although she is good to those younger than her. Her only friend is Rocky, a boy at the orphanage, who has a calming personality, the one person who can motivate Molly and keep her from getting into trouble.
Then everything goes further wrong one day when Rocky is taken away by an American couple who want to adopt him, and he goes away without saying goodbye. Molly's one support in her short life is gone.
Just when things begin to look very bad indeed, Molly finds a book on hypnotism in the library. She 'borrows' it, and learns the art by following the very clear instructions in the book. What follows is an out-and-out fantasy that any 10 yr-old might have and thoroughly enjoy.
We have Molly winning a talent show, and using her winnings to travel all the way to New York, with Petula, the pug belonging to Miss Adderstone who is now hypnotised into loving Molly. In New York, along the way to finding Rocky, she becomes a huge star, which draws her into the clutches of Simon Nockman, a crook out to use her talents for big-time robbery.
How does it all end? Since the fantastical seems to escalate? Well, you have to read the book to find out. The narrative is just as hypnotic, and both A and I read it at one go, unable to put the book down. Things do resolve, and a lot of good lessons are learnt. All around. Molly and the reader included. While having a good laugh as we read.
The book reminded me of Mathilda by Roald Dahl, another book about an extraordinary little girl belittled by her own parents and bullied by the monstrous school headmistress, Miss Agatha Trunchbull, and who uses her magical powers to teach her a lesson.
A loved this one, and we will be looking out for the sequels, Molly Moon stops the world, Molly Moon's hypnotic time-travel adventure, Molly Moon Micky Minus and the time machine and Molly Moon and the morphing mystery. They all sound delicious.
Crossposted at Saffrontree.
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| Pic courtesy flipkart |
MOLLY MOON'S Incredible Book of Hypnotism
Written by Georgia Byng
Published by Macmillan Children's Books
Ages 8-12 yrs
Hardwick House, the decrepit orphanage where Molly, our 10 yr old heroine lives, is a Dickensonian place, owned and run by the mean and spiteful Miss Adderstone and Edna, the equally mean and spiteful cook whose cooking is horrible. There are other bullies, too, the older children who make life extremely difficult for the younger ones.
Molly, too, is no angel, and often gets into trouble because of her lazy and stubborn ways, although she is good to those younger than her. Her only friend is Rocky, a boy at the orphanage, who has a calming personality, the one person who can motivate Molly and keep her from getting into trouble.
Then everything goes further wrong one day when Rocky is taken away by an American couple who want to adopt him, and he goes away without saying goodbye. Molly's one support in her short life is gone.
Just when things begin to look very bad indeed, Molly finds a book on hypnotism in the library. She 'borrows' it, and learns the art by following the very clear instructions in the book. What follows is an out-and-out fantasy that any 10 yr-old might have and thoroughly enjoy.
We have Molly winning a talent show, and using her winnings to travel all the way to New York, with Petula, the pug belonging to Miss Adderstone who is now hypnotised into loving Molly. In New York, along the way to finding Rocky, she becomes a huge star, which draws her into the clutches of Simon Nockman, a crook out to use her talents for big-time robbery.
How does it all end? Since the fantastical seems to escalate? Well, you have to read the book to find out. The narrative is just as hypnotic, and both A and I read it at one go, unable to put the book down. Things do resolve, and a lot of good lessons are learnt. All around. Molly and the reader included. While having a good laugh as we read.
The book reminded me of Mathilda by Roald Dahl, another book about an extraordinary little girl belittled by her own parents and bullied by the monstrous school headmistress, Miss Agatha Trunchbull, and who uses her magical powers to teach her a lesson.
A loved this one, and we will be looking out for the sequels, Molly Moon stops the world, Molly Moon's hypnotic time-travel adventure, Molly Moon Micky Minus and the time machine and Molly Moon and the morphing mystery. They all sound delicious.
Crossposted at Saffrontree.
26 June, 2011
Review- On My Honor
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| Pic courtesy goodreads.com |
Written by Marion Dane Bauer
Published by Yearling books, an imprint of Random House Children's books.
Ages: 8-12, 12+
Peer pressure. Everyone faces it, children more so. It looms large in their small world, often leading to literally life-and-death situations.
Twelve year old Joel and Tony are 'best friends', very different in temperament, often squabbling and bickering, but inseparable.
Tony- exuberant, fun-loving, risk-taking, with a devil-may-care attitude. Joel, the more cautious of the two, introspecting, sensitive to undercurrents in a situation, a foil for Tony.
On the way to a cliff-climbing trip, (which Joel had earlier tried to wriggle out of, hoping his father would not give him permission to go), the irrepressible Tony had decided he wanted to go swimming in the river instead. The turbulant, treacherous Vermillion river, known for its rapids. Inspite of having promised his father 'on his honor', that he would not do anything dangerous, Joel falls for the bait when Tony accuses him of being over-cautious.
"Sometimes, Bates, you sound just like your old man."
Joel could feel the heat flooding his face. "What's wrong with that?"
" 'Be careful in that tree, son,' " Tony mimicked, " 'you might get hurt. Watch Bobby when he crosses the street. Those drivers never pay any--' "
Joel had been moving closer to Tony as he spoke, and now he gave him a hard shove.
Tony keeps needling Joel, driven by bravado and dare-devilry, goading him to challenge Tony to a swimming race to a sandbar a hundred yards away. With terrible consequences.
Peer pressure. Wanting to fit in. Misplaced confidence. A sense of being indestructible. A devil-may-care attitude. Inability to lose face. Unwillingness to be perceived as a 'coward' when being just sensible and careful. A recipe for disaster?
Marion Dane Bauer has written a fast-paced, racy, but sensitively told story based on a real incident that happenned in the town where she grew up, at the very same place as described in the book. A very short, 90 page book that is very hard-hitting.
Bauer's potrayal of Joel's effort to get out of what is very clearly a fool-hardy venture, without losing face- first hoping that his father would not give his permission, then trying to make Tony see sense is very realistic. It happens ever so often in our own kids' peer-group. The disaster comes on unexpectedly, chillingly, with everything else seemingly the same, unchanged.
The potrayal of Joel's survivor guilt is heart-wrenching. The disbelief, denial, anger, dissociation, grief, a desire to hide, not face the parents, an obsessive 'washing-off of the stench of the river', are powerfully written. It helps, that his father is understanding, trying to help him let go of the paralysing, mind-numbing grief.
The wracking sobs flowed out of him like water.
His father held him for a long time, saying nothing, until Joel's tears came without sound and his breaths were quivering gasps. Even then, his father held him.
"Do you believe in heaven?" he asked at last. "Do you believe Tony's gone there?"
"I don't suppose anybody knows," his father answered gently, "what happens after...I believe there's something about life that goes on. It seems too good to end in a river."
It is a Newbery Honor winner, 1987, and the William Allen White Childrens' book award winner, 1989. A wonderfully written book, that chills me on each reading. Given a thumbs-up by A.
Crossposted at Bookreviews and Saffrontree.
19 April, 2011
Sidney Poitier - Life Beyond Measure
The first I heard of Sidney Poitier was quite by accident, and without a realisation about the phenomenon that he is. This was way back in 1997, when we were in the US, and I picked up an interesting sounding movie at my library. It was about a young couple in love, and the girl gets the boy home to meet her parents. The boy is an extraordinarily well-educated person, with a responsible job in the UN, and by all accounts, a dream suitor for anyone's daughter. Reminded me of the Elizabeth Taylor classic- Father of the Bride, now re-made with Steve Martin and Diane Keaton as the parents.
Ordinary stuff, one would think. Except that it wasn't. The girl in question is a Caucasian, and the boy an African-American. What followed was extraordinary stuff indeed, considering that the movie was made in 1967, at a time when an inter-racial marriage was a punishable offence in at least 19 states in the US.
A wonderful movie. The parents are played by two of my favourites, Spencer Tracy and Katherine Hepburn, a real-life couple, and the protagonist, John Prentiss, played by Sidney Poitier, all three Academy award winners, assisted ably by the newcomer who plays Joanna, the daughter. This was also the last movie in which Spencer Tracy acted, and he passed away a mere 17 days after filming ended.
Instead of telling you how the movie unfolds, I'll ask you to click on this link for a look at the movie trailer. Go on, click on it. It's a wonderful trailer, and if you've never watched the movie, it is worth your time.
I was fascinated by Sidney Poitier, bowled over, infact, (had quite a crush on him, if that word may be used!)and I proceeded to search out and watch all movies in which he has acted, all that I could lay my hands on. There was To Sir, with Love, based upon an autobiographical book of the same name by E. R. Braithwaite. There was A Patch of Blue, about a black man befriending a visually inpaired white girl, In the Heat of the Night, a crime thriller. There was Lilies of the Field, for which Poitier received an Oscar in 1963, becoming the first African American to receive the award for the Best Actor, male. He was all of 37. (He has also since received an Academy Honorary Award, "for his extraordinary performances and unique presence on the screen and for representing the industry with dignity, style and intelligence")
In every movie, one is struck with Sidney Poitier's persona and screen presence, and I was convinced that he was probably one of the priviledged few at the time among African Americans, who had had a wonderful opportunity at education. We are speaking, of course, of the 40s, 50s and 60s, at a time when the Civil rights movement had yet to give the wonderful results that have given us people like the present President of the US.
So when I came across two books penned by Sidney Poitier, his autobiography- The Measure of a Man, (which I have yet to read) and Life Beyond Measure, which is a collection of letters he has written for his great-grand-daughter, for her to read and know about the living history of her people when she is grown-up, I was amazed by what I read.
LIFE BEYOND MEASURE
Poitier undertook the writing of this book as a series of letters written to his great grand daughter, born around the time he was in his 70s.
He tells her of his humble beginnings, born as the youngest of a brood of poor farming parents. They lived on the Cat islands, in the Carribean, and it was just chance that Sidney was born on American soil. His parents had come to sell some produce in Florida- a simple thing to do at a time when there were no visa restrictions.
He had next to no schooling, and could not read or write very well when he was sent to America to make his fortune at the ripe young age of 16. Working in New York as a dish-washer, he chanced upon an advertisement for actors at a local theatre, but was rejected on account of his poor command on 'good' English.
Here was a turning point. A lesser person may have just not bothered bettering himself, and continued with his ordinary life. Not Sidney. He took it up as a challenge, and with the help of an elderly waiter, tutored himself, and presented himself to the same theatre group a year later. And the rest is history.
Poitier's letters tell us about his take on life, opportunities, faith, religion, family, love, commitments, marriage, fear, work, scientific advancements, war, health, and yes, about death, too. He does not dwell much on the films he has made, except when he needed to make a point. We also learn a lot about African-American history along the way. All in an easy conversational style reminiscent of a fable.
A legacy from a great-great-grandfather to his great-great-grandfather.
Crossposted at Bookreviews.
Have entered this review in the 2011 Global Reading Challenge in North America.
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| Pic courtesy teachwithmovies.org |
Ordinary stuff, one would think. Except that it wasn't. The girl in question is a Caucasian, and the boy an African-American. What followed was extraordinary stuff indeed, considering that the movie was made in 1967, at a time when an inter-racial marriage was a punishable offence in at least 19 states in the US.
A wonderful movie. The parents are played by two of my favourites, Spencer Tracy and Katherine Hepburn, a real-life couple, and the protagonist, John Prentiss, played by Sidney Poitier, all three Academy award winners, assisted ably by the newcomer who plays Joanna, the daughter. This was also the last movie in which Spencer Tracy acted, and he passed away a mere 17 days after filming ended.
Instead of telling you how the movie unfolds, I'll ask you to click on this link for a look at the movie trailer. Go on, click on it. It's a wonderful trailer, and if you've never watched the movie, it is worth your time.
I was fascinated by Sidney Poitier, bowled over, infact, (had quite a crush on him, if that word may be used!)and I proceeded to search out and watch all movies in which he has acted, all that I could lay my hands on. There was To Sir, with Love, based upon an autobiographical book of the same name by E. R. Braithwaite. There was A Patch of Blue, about a black man befriending a visually inpaired white girl, In the Heat of the Night, a crime thriller. There was Lilies of the Field, for which Poitier received an Oscar in 1963, becoming the first African American to receive the award for the Best Actor, male. He was all of 37. (He has also since received an Academy Honorary Award, "for his extraordinary performances and unique presence on the screen and for representing the industry with dignity, style and intelligence")
In every movie, one is struck with Sidney Poitier's persona and screen presence, and I was convinced that he was probably one of the priviledged few at the time among African Americans, who had had a wonderful opportunity at education. We are speaking, of course, of the 40s, 50s and 60s, at a time when the Civil rights movement had yet to give the wonderful results that have given us people like the present President of the US.
So when I came across two books penned by Sidney Poitier, his autobiography- The Measure of a Man, (which I have yet to read) and Life Beyond Measure, which is a collection of letters he has written for his great-grand-daughter, for her to read and know about the living history of her people when she is grown-up, I was amazed by what I read.
Letters to my great-grand-daughter
Written by Sidney Poitier
Published by Simon & SchusterPoitier undertook the writing of this book as a series of letters written to his great grand daughter, born around the time he was in his 70s.
He tells her of his humble beginnings, born as the youngest of a brood of poor farming parents. They lived on the Cat islands, in the Carribean, and it was just chance that Sidney was born on American soil. His parents had come to sell some produce in Florida- a simple thing to do at a time when there were no visa restrictions.
He had next to no schooling, and could not read or write very well when he was sent to America to make his fortune at the ripe young age of 16. Working in New York as a dish-washer, he chanced upon an advertisement for actors at a local theatre, but was rejected on account of his poor command on 'good' English.
Here was a turning point. A lesser person may have just not bothered bettering himself, and continued with his ordinary life. Not Sidney. He took it up as a challenge, and with the help of an elderly waiter, tutored himself, and presented himself to the same theatre group a year later. And the rest is history.
Poitier's letters tell us about his take on life, opportunities, faith, religion, family, love, commitments, marriage, fear, work, scientific advancements, war, health, and yes, about death, too. He does not dwell much on the films he has made, except when he needed to make a point. We also learn a lot about African-American history along the way. All in an easy conversational style reminiscent of a fable.
A legacy from a great-great-grandfather to his great-great-grandfather.
Crossposted at Bookreviews.
Have entered this review in the 2011 Global Reading Challenge in North America.
25 February, 2011
.....or not to...is the question!
What made me write this post? Well, for one, this post and this one, both by Sangi, this post by Monika, and a talk we attended at A's school.
The school has come across some children of middle school using social networking sites, for which they are clearly underage. There has also been some instances of inappropriate behaviour that has been noticed among students, which has been traced to unsupervised viewership of television programmes with age-inappropriate content, bad language, etc., as also unsupervised access to the internet, especially if both parents are working. According to the school, it is the responsibility of the parents to be aware of what their child is being exposed to, and take steps to correct any oversights. As for children of working parents, it was suggested that they install a password operated net connection, and speak to the children about what can or cannot be watched, reinforcing the message by repetition. For this was the time when the children are just beginning to take the first steps out of childhood, and are still influentiable. For the better or worse.
There was an interesting point raised. There are children, and then there are children. Of different kinds. For every child that is influenced by all this, and loses focus of what is right, there may be some who are not, who manage to take it in their stride, and come through unscathed. It was upto every parent to be aware of how their child is, educate the child accordingly and be available for the child at all times if need be. The school on its part would discourage anything age-inappropriate, and have a no-tolerance policy for anything inappropriate for school. This was something that was to be handled on a two-way-street.
So what does this have to do with the three posts I mentioned at the beginning? Quite a bit.
I come from Bram roots. My grandparents would not even partake of anything that contained onions or garlic, these been considered as tamasic foods. My parents, though, encouraged us to eat eggs, although my mother could never touch the stuff herself. We had a separate vessel and pan which was washed after use and put away separately. No eggs were allowed when my paternal grandparents were staying with us. My maternal grandmother lived with us for many years, and although she never tasted them, would cook the eggs for us.
We had quite a few friends who ate non-veg food, but never once do I remember wanting to try it. We were happy enough with our ghaas-phoos, as one friend once put it, except for the very occasional eggs.
When I got married, I did not expect to be eating any either, as the husband is from the same community, an arranged marriage. He had, however, tried it during his student days, and found that he liked it, though not extraordinarily so. I tried chicken tentatively in those early days, liked it enough to have some while eating out once in a while. We never tried cooking it at home though. Even on our travels overseas, I did not really become a regular eater.
Then A came along, and somewhere at 3-4 years of age, she realised she liked the non-veg that we occasionally tried while eating out. It was purely so that the finicky mother in me would be sure of the hygiene and of what has gone in it that I agreed to cook the stuff at home. Even then, cooking non-veg is more the husband's territory than mine, I help with getting the masalas ready and then sit twiddling my thumbs (or reading some book with A). I also do not like red meat or fish dishes overmuch. And I will be more than willing to give it all up if need be. At times when we haven't had any non-veg for a longish period of time, I've never felt the urge to eat some. I'll be fine without it in my life. Maybe a point will come when I no longer want to eat it. Already on days when I prepare eggs for breakfast I have only plain toast with cheese or jam, and avoid the eggs.
A loves the stuff, of couse, especially the way Dad makes it, and is a confirmed non-vegetarian. The only reason for which I see her leaving it is if at some point in her life the softie animal lover in her decides to surface. I'm fine with whatever she decides. The choice has to be hers.
As for alcohol, I grew up in a teetotaler household. No smoking either. I am sure my parents never thought that they needed to say anything to us about it. We never thought it was a done thing, and that was that. I really do not know about my brothers, who were students when I got married, but I was never tempted by the lure of either alcohol or nicotine or any other substance in my growing up years, and I thank God for that. Of course that does not mean that I was an exemplary teenager, with no rebellion in me. There were other things that my parents came down heavily upon, without, I regret, any real communication or education about them, and I contrarily chose to focus my rebellious energies on those. So I have made my mistakes in life like anyone else.
I have worked extensively with the AA in my post-grad days, and I have seen the devastation that the addiction can cause. The rehabilitation has to be done one day at a time- something that the ex-addict has to follow all his life. Along with the counselling for psychological factors, the person has to make a commitment to avoid alcohol on an everyday basis. There is no place here for the "I can handle it" (mis)confidence. I have seen long-term rehabilitated addicts relapsing after something as innocuous as a course of cough medicine with an alcohol content, and it is tough.
At the same time, not everyone who tastes alcohol in their life gets addicted to it. I have tried alcohol with my husband, on rare occasions, as I never really aquired a taste for it. I have got really drunk once or twice, but that was just to try it out, with different brands of alcohol, and as Sangi puts it "being drunk SUCKS!" Even then I probably had a drink once in 2-3 months, that too with guests or on a holiday. And ever since daughter has started showing curiosity in the contents of mom's /dad's glass, I've stopped drinking, not even an occasional one. I don't think I miss it at all, and feel no urge to indulge myself for any reason whatsoever.
The husband has a drink or two on weekends, and is extremely responsible about his drinking, AND of the drinking of those who drink under our roof, and have to drive back to their homes. Of late, even this has decreased. Reason- A read about a character in Black Beauty (by Anne Sewell) who drank and rode a horse to its ruin and his death. (I always fall back on books if I want to say something. Maybe books are my addiction!) She had many questions about alcohol and its effects at the time, and since then, she gets upset if her father has a drink. He has had a talk with her about it, and I'm sure it will be all for the best.
The point I'm trying to make here, is that some things, though present elsewhere in the world, were absent in my environment, either in reality, or hypothetically as subjects of discussion. We just ignored those, and never considered trying them as an option. And when I did try them, I did not get over-much attached to them. Whereas I was wrongly influenced by those things that were strongly spoken against, especially under peer-pressure, without any education from my parents as to the consequences of a mis-step, and have suffered for it.
Moral of the story- Although my first reaction to anthing that A wants to do that is wrong in my eyes is an authoritarian one, I try to simmer down and talk to her about it, rather than talk at her. I agree with the school that we need to be available to the children when they are in a communicative mood, else they will take their communication to someone else, someone completely unsuitable. Also that each child may react differently to the same set of conditions, and take away something quite different from it.
On my part, I hope to keep communication channels open with A, as it is very likely that she might find things she finds yuck not so yuck (again quoting Sangi!) in her terrible teens, and I would like to be with her on every step of the way, with reasonable (I hope! Sometimes the streaks of an authoritarian parent tends to get the better of me, and I have to tell myself to simmer down and GET REASONABLE!) restrictions, handholding, educating and counselling. And I hope that she always trusts us, and finds it worth the while coming to me with anything that bothers her.
So help me God!
The school has come across some children of middle school using social networking sites, for which they are clearly underage. There has also been some instances of inappropriate behaviour that has been noticed among students, which has been traced to unsupervised viewership of television programmes with age-inappropriate content, bad language, etc., as also unsupervised access to the internet, especially if both parents are working. According to the school, it is the responsibility of the parents to be aware of what their child is being exposed to, and take steps to correct any oversights. As for children of working parents, it was suggested that they install a password operated net connection, and speak to the children about what can or cannot be watched, reinforcing the message by repetition. For this was the time when the children are just beginning to take the first steps out of childhood, and are still influentiable. For the better or worse.
There was an interesting point raised. There are children, and then there are children. Of different kinds. For every child that is influenced by all this, and loses focus of what is right, there may be some who are not, who manage to take it in their stride, and come through unscathed. It was upto every parent to be aware of how their child is, educate the child accordingly and be available for the child at all times if need be. The school on its part would discourage anything age-inappropriate, and have a no-tolerance policy for anything inappropriate for school. This was something that was to be handled on a two-way-street.
So what does this have to do with the three posts I mentioned at the beginning? Quite a bit.
I come from Bram roots. My grandparents would not even partake of anything that contained onions or garlic, these been considered as tamasic foods. My parents, though, encouraged us to eat eggs, although my mother could never touch the stuff herself. We had a separate vessel and pan which was washed after use and put away separately. No eggs were allowed when my paternal grandparents were staying with us. My maternal grandmother lived with us for many years, and although she never tasted them, would cook the eggs for us.
We had quite a few friends who ate non-veg food, but never once do I remember wanting to try it. We were happy enough with our ghaas-phoos, as one friend once put it, except for the very occasional eggs.
When I got married, I did not expect to be eating any either, as the husband is from the same community, an arranged marriage. He had, however, tried it during his student days, and found that he liked it, though not extraordinarily so. I tried chicken tentatively in those early days, liked it enough to have some while eating out once in a while. We never tried cooking it at home though. Even on our travels overseas, I did not really become a regular eater.
Then A came along, and somewhere at 3-4 years of age, she realised she liked the non-veg that we occasionally tried while eating out. It was purely so that the finicky mother in me would be sure of the hygiene and of what has gone in it that I agreed to cook the stuff at home. Even then, cooking non-veg is more the husband's territory than mine, I help with getting the masalas ready and then sit twiddling my thumbs (or reading some book with A). I also do not like red meat or fish dishes overmuch. And I will be more than willing to give it all up if need be. At times when we haven't had any non-veg for a longish period of time, I've never felt the urge to eat some. I'll be fine without it in my life. Maybe a point will come when I no longer want to eat it. Already on days when I prepare eggs for breakfast I have only plain toast with cheese or jam, and avoid the eggs.
A loves the stuff, of couse, especially the way Dad makes it, and is a confirmed non-vegetarian. The only reason for which I see her leaving it is if at some point in her life the softie animal lover in her decides to surface. I'm fine with whatever she decides. The choice has to be hers.
As for alcohol, I grew up in a teetotaler household. No smoking either. I am sure my parents never thought that they needed to say anything to us about it. We never thought it was a done thing, and that was that. I really do not know about my brothers, who were students when I got married, but I was never tempted by the lure of either alcohol or nicotine or any other substance in my growing up years, and I thank God for that. Of course that does not mean that I was an exemplary teenager, with no rebellion in me. There were other things that my parents came down heavily upon, without, I regret, any real communication or education about them, and I contrarily chose to focus my rebellious energies on those. So I have made my mistakes in life like anyone else.
I have worked extensively with the AA in my post-grad days, and I have seen the devastation that the addiction can cause. The rehabilitation has to be done one day at a time- something that the ex-addict has to follow all his life. Along with the counselling for psychological factors, the person has to make a commitment to avoid alcohol on an everyday basis. There is no place here for the "I can handle it" (mis)confidence. I have seen long-term rehabilitated addicts relapsing after something as innocuous as a course of cough medicine with an alcohol content, and it is tough.
At the same time, not everyone who tastes alcohol in their life gets addicted to it. I have tried alcohol with my husband, on rare occasions, as I never really aquired a taste for it. I have got really drunk once or twice, but that was just to try it out, with different brands of alcohol, and as Sangi puts it "being drunk SUCKS!" Even then I probably had a drink once in 2-3 months, that too with guests or on a holiday. And ever since daughter has started showing curiosity in the contents of mom's /dad's glass, I've stopped drinking, not even an occasional one. I don't think I miss it at all, and feel no urge to indulge myself for any reason whatsoever.
The husband has a drink or two on weekends, and is extremely responsible about his drinking, AND of the drinking of those who drink under our roof, and have to drive back to their homes. Of late, even this has decreased. Reason- A read about a character in Black Beauty (by Anne Sewell) who drank and rode a horse to its ruin and his death. (I always fall back on books if I want to say something. Maybe books are my addiction!) She had many questions about alcohol and its effects at the time, and since then, she gets upset if her father has a drink. He has had a talk with her about it, and I'm sure it will be all for the best.
The point I'm trying to make here, is that some things, though present elsewhere in the world, were absent in my environment, either in reality, or hypothetically as subjects of discussion. We just ignored those, and never considered trying them as an option. And when I did try them, I did not get over-much attached to them. Whereas I was wrongly influenced by those things that were strongly spoken against, especially under peer-pressure, without any education from my parents as to the consequences of a mis-step, and have suffered for it.
Moral of the story- Although my first reaction to anthing that A wants to do that is wrong in my eyes is an authoritarian one, I try to simmer down and talk to her about it, rather than talk at her. I agree with the school that we need to be available to the children when they are in a communicative mood, else they will take their communication to someone else, someone completely unsuitable. Also that each child may react differently to the same set of conditions, and take away something quite different from it.
On my part, I hope to keep communication channels open with A, as it is very likely that she might find things she finds yuck not so yuck (again quoting Sangi!) in her terrible teens, and I would like to be with her on every step of the way, with reasonable (I hope! Sometimes the streaks of an authoritarian parent tends to get the better of me, and I have to tell myself to simmer down and GET REASONABLE!) restrictions, handholding, educating and counselling. And I hope that she always trusts us, and finds it worth the while coming to me with anything that bothers her.
So help me God!
18 January, 2011
Wrestling with the HOMEWORK monster
Daughter goes to a school following the tenets of Montessori upto middle school, where till now we were all a pampered lot. By 'we' I mean both the kids and the parents. Everything taught was hands-on, and the school accomodated itself to the child's pace. Not complaining at all. A has learnt wonderfully well, and all of it stress-free, too.
So we love school. It suited us perfectly. A is a quick learner, and does a lot of original thinking. Except for one little hitch. We knew this at home already, but this year, for the first time, it featured BIG at her parent-teacher meetings. Every teacher we met came up with it. All of them praised her work as a student-"But, her work is very slow. She needs to speed up in writing, eating, etc. Other children are done with their work, but her work spills over into other classes. Result- she has to take the classwork home with homework. She loses out on free time and fun activities too."
The school follows the ICSE curriculum middle school onwards, and the workload has increased by leaps and bounds this year. The same kids who had never faced any tests (Sure they had quizzes and spelling-bees and such, but again, it was all stress free and not graded!) now had a line-up of weekly tests every term, all graded and counted for assessment. There were the competitive Olympiad tests to prepare for. We also have plenty of homework + classwork-to-be finished everyday, in at least two subjects.
It might not seem like a big deal to parents whose children have been handling the stuff from kindergarten level, and they'd be within their rights to scoff at my hyperventilating. For them, I'll say that consider someone who has never done any sort of regular physical training. Now consider that this person suddenly has to plunge into running 4-5 kms everyday, without taking it step by step. Result- Hair pulled out in clumps?! You get the point.
So. Homework. It has become our waterloo. An assignment that should take no more than half-an-hour to finish gets stretched over a good part of 2 hours. This is in no way due to not understanding what to do, or not knowing the stuff, or even inability to do things fast. On a day that she has a fun activity like a birthday party lined up in the evening, she does finish it at super speed. So- lack of motivation.
The teachers came up with a couple of interesting theories regarding this. It is simply because
(1) she feels she knows it anyway, so why does she have to do it all again? - an attitude that the teachers have recognised in her, and which they tell us is found in many children who come from a school background like theirs. The child's mind has to be reprogrammed to accomodate the demands of an ICSE curriculum, notwithstanding the fact that almost everything is being introduced to them through the montessori methods.
(2) she day-dreams a lot, and her mind is occupied by so many things that she finds infinitely more interesting, and which she is bursting to share with you. So she'll keep meandering off into some line of thought and tell you all about it, and get offended if you do not respond as enthusiastically, but try to bring her back to ground reality by reminding her of the work waiting for her.
Now almost all of this is very creative and very interesting, and about things that are of interest to me too. Case in point- something that she has seen that day triggers off an idea for a story. But as I have told her so many times that she needs to finish the work that she has to finish first. I agree with her that some of it is mindless- copywriting for 2nd /3rd languages for eg., but if you've got to do it, there is no option.
The other time-wasting problem we have on hand is eating. Subject for another post.
A is also one of those kids who needs longer sleep hours, a complete 10 hours at the least. So if we have to get up in the morning at 6 to be ready in time for the school bus, we have to be in bed by 8 pm. She also has dance and music lessons three weekdays after school. This is something that she herself has opted for, and is passionately interested in. We prefer to have these on weekdays, as the weekends can then be free to chill, at home or outside, without the additional hassle of having to hurry then. This leaves us with that much less time for homework and self-study on weekdays.
The whole of last year, everyday had become a battle. Not really between the two of us, (although it seemed that way often), but between the time available on hand and the time we actually took for something. It caused a lot of resentment, both for her as I was perceived as being pushy, and a nagging mother, (I can see it from her tween POV) and for me as the more I pushed, the more she resisted. And this was my turf, as the husband would be away at the office at that time, which made me the bad cop.
There had to be a way out of this catch-22 situation. Inspiration came in the form of this post by Sangi. I decided to adapt it to my needs. A had always been rewarded for something specific that she needed to do, but now needed an added impetus to do it. This time, I thought I will carry it a bit further, and set long term goals.
I worked out a system of points, under which she gets 1 point apiece for getting ready on time in the morning for school, eating her meals (breakfast and dinner on a school day, and lunch included on a holiday/weekend) and 2 points for finishing all her homework in the time I say it should take, after assessing it for the day. No carrying over homework to 'do it tomorrow.' And all this has to be done without my having to shout.
That adds up to 4 points /weekday and 3 points /weekend day.
Totalling to 26 points /week. If she gets all the points for the week - totalled on Sunday evening, she gets a bonus of 4 points.
That totals to 30 points per week.
Add up all points over a period of 3 months, and I will put in a rupee for every point, and she can buy anything she wants that is age-appropriate.
If she wants to save this money up, I'll add one rupee for every 10 that she saves.
Re-assess the situation and repeat the cycle over the next 3 months .
A has managed to get herself very excited over this system, and till now she shas stuck to it, 18 days into the new year. I hope she sticks it out long-term. Keep it going and it should be followed out of sheer habit. And hope to look at this experiment as our first step to a stress-free, relaxed approach to the increasing work as she grows up.
I'm keeping all my fingers and toes crossed. Praying that it works.
And Amy Chua can go take a hike!
So we love school. It suited us perfectly. A is a quick learner, and does a lot of original thinking. Except for one little hitch. We knew this at home already, but this year, for the first time, it featured BIG at her parent-teacher meetings. Every teacher we met came up with it. All of them praised her work as a student-"But, her work is very slow. She needs to speed up in writing, eating, etc. Other children are done with their work, but her work spills over into other classes. Result- she has to take the classwork home with homework. She loses out on free time and fun activities too."
The school follows the ICSE curriculum middle school onwards, and the workload has increased by leaps and bounds this year. The same kids who had never faced any tests (Sure they had quizzes and spelling-bees and such, but again, it was all stress free and not graded!) now had a line-up of weekly tests every term, all graded and counted for assessment. There were the competitive Olympiad tests to prepare for. We also have plenty of homework + classwork-to-be finished everyday, in at least two subjects.
It might not seem like a big deal to parents whose children have been handling the stuff from kindergarten level, and they'd be within their rights to scoff at my hyperventilating. For them, I'll say that consider someone who has never done any sort of regular physical training. Now consider that this person suddenly has to plunge into running 4-5 kms everyday, without taking it step by step. Result- Hair pulled out in clumps?! You get the point.
So. Homework. It has become our waterloo. An assignment that should take no more than half-an-hour to finish gets stretched over a good part of 2 hours. This is in no way due to not understanding what to do, or not knowing the stuff, or even inability to do things fast. On a day that she has a fun activity like a birthday party lined up in the evening, she does finish it at super speed. So- lack of motivation.
The teachers came up with a couple of interesting theories regarding this. It is simply because
(1) she feels she knows it anyway, so why does she have to do it all again? - an attitude that the teachers have recognised in her, and which they tell us is found in many children who come from a school background like theirs. The child's mind has to be reprogrammed to accomodate the demands of an ICSE curriculum, notwithstanding the fact that almost everything is being introduced to them through the montessori methods.
(2) she day-dreams a lot, and her mind is occupied by so many things that she finds infinitely more interesting, and which she is bursting to share with you. So she'll keep meandering off into some line of thought and tell you all about it, and get offended if you do not respond as enthusiastically, but try to bring her back to ground reality by reminding her of the work waiting for her.
Now almost all of this is very creative and very interesting, and about things that are of interest to me too. Case in point- something that she has seen that day triggers off an idea for a story. But as I have told her so many times that she needs to finish the work that she has to finish first. I agree with her that some of it is mindless- copywriting for 2nd /3rd languages for eg., but if you've got to do it, there is no option.
The other time-wasting problem we have on hand is eating. Subject for another post.
A is also one of those kids who needs longer sleep hours, a complete 10 hours at the least. So if we have to get up in the morning at 6 to be ready in time for the school bus, we have to be in bed by 8 pm. She also has dance and music lessons three weekdays after school. This is something that she herself has opted for, and is passionately interested in. We prefer to have these on weekdays, as the weekends can then be free to chill, at home or outside, without the additional hassle of having to hurry then. This leaves us with that much less time for homework and self-study on weekdays.
The whole of last year, everyday had become a battle. Not really between the two of us, (although it seemed that way often), but between the time available on hand and the time we actually took for something. It caused a lot of resentment, both for her as I was perceived as being pushy, and a nagging mother, (I can see it from her tween POV) and for me as the more I pushed, the more she resisted. And this was my turf, as the husband would be away at the office at that time, which made me the bad cop.
There had to be a way out of this catch-22 situation. Inspiration came in the form of this post by Sangi. I decided to adapt it to my needs. A had always been rewarded for something specific that she needed to do, but now needed an added impetus to do it. This time, I thought I will carry it a bit further, and set long term goals.
I worked out a system of points, under which she gets 1 point apiece for getting ready on time in the morning for school, eating her meals (breakfast and dinner on a school day, and lunch included on a holiday/weekend) and 2 points for finishing all her homework in the time I say it should take, after assessing it for the day. No carrying over homework to 'do it tomorrow.' And all this has to be done without my having to shout.
That adds up to 4 points /weekday and 3 points /weekend day.
Totalling to 26 points /week. If she gets all the points for the week - totalled on Sunday evening, she gets a bonus of 4 points.
That totals to 30 points per week.
Add up all points over a period of 3 months, and I will put in a rupee for every point, and she can buy anything she wants that is age-appropriate.
If she wants to save this money up, I'll add one rupee for every 10 that she saves.
Re-assess the situation and repeat the cycle over the next 3 months .
A has managed to get herself very excited over this system, and till now she shas stuck to it, 18 days into the new year. I hope she sticks it out long-term. Keep it going and it should be followed out of sheer habit. And hope to look at this experiment as our first step to a stress-free, relaxed approach to the increasing work as she grows up.
I'm keeping all my fingers and toes crossed. Praying that it works.
And Amy Chua can go take a hike!
02 December, 2010
Book Review: Invisible Patterns
Have you ever felt that feeling of having done something before (deja vu), or dreams of an experience that cannot be explained away as an experience? Likes and dislikes, fears or affinities, that are inexplicable? Do you sometimes 'like' someone, or feel that you know someone very well, when infact you may be meeting them for the first time? Or 'dislike' someone, sometimes to the point where you cannot tolerate anything about them, even if they might not have done you any real harm?
Phenomena that science has attempted to explain, not very consistently or convincingly. For these lie in the realm of the unknown, where words like uncanny, co-incidence, extra-sensory, sixth sense, the nth dimension, etc., make more sense than the cold, hard reasoning of science.
Recently A was gifted this very interesting book by a friend, who is an incredibly wonderful person, and whose blog-posts always make me introspect, think, re-inspect my choices. To my shame, I do not always make the changes I need to make, but the seed gets sown in my subconscious, which keeps nurturing it. Some day, I hope, these will take root, and compel me to make those changes.
INVISIBLE PATTERNS
Written by Dr Shyamala Vatsa
Illustrated by J.K.Naren
Published by Fo'c'sle Publications
Ages: 10+ (my estimate)
Harsh is an ordinary 10-yr-old, who loves getting boisterous with his friends at school, is a keen athlete, and loves messing around with his younger sister Sanjali, grandmother and his parents at home.
But sometimes, something strange happens. Almost unawares, he sees himself as someone else, at some other time, in another place, often with some of his dear ones in some other role. Perplexingly, these experiences differ totally in their time-place specifics every time.
Harsh is confused. What is it that he keeps seeing? Is it some kind of memory? If it is, how is it that he is not himself, Harsh, in these memories? How can he have memories of something that might have happened 100, 1000 or even more years ago, in a totally alien place? Events and places that have been read of only in his history / geography lessons? If it is just associations his mind has been making, how does it all seem so real, so vivid, as if it had really happened? And even more strangely, how is it that his sister can see the exact same things that he has been seeing?
So many questions. Wonderfully for him, his parents do not scoff at him, or put him off with "you must be imagining things!" They keep communication channels open, and try to explain things in a matter-of-fact way, using his everyday experiences. The explanations, of course, are consistent with their beliefs.
How there might be other souls around us, probably helping us along. How a soul may be born again, and experience different things.
How the Karma of the soul- that balance sheet of all the good and bad things it does- leads him to the next life-experience. How this seemingly out-of-our-control-path-of-destiny can be actually modified by us, channelised by us in the right direction by the use of 'free will.' By excercising our choice. Of not squandering our gifts. Of turning bad times into opportunities for change, possibly for the better.
How there may be many alternate worlds co-existing in the universe, at different times, in different places. As explained to him about alternate universes, wormholes, curved spacetime and time travel by a scientist friend of his father.
The book tries to explain the invisible patterns in the universe, that may be sensed more by minds that are open to the infinite possibilities, like those of children. It may be a more commonplace phenomena than we realise. Maybe most adults have lost this childlike quality of the mind, making our thinking more mundane. Leaving it to the 'exceptional' ones to pursue a path to ...one may call it enlightenment.
I found the book very interesting in that it attempted to put forth a very unusual topic- that of reincarnation and karma- in the format of a story for children. I am not really a believer in reincarnation- or, to put it more honestly, I'll say that I do not know if I believe in reincarnation. The ambiguity comes about because of the culture, the faith I have grown up with, which sets a lot of store by this theory. So I might be a closet believer after all, but not very comfortable with the idea that I might have been someone other than myself in another life. (If I do consider it sometimes, I believe I may have lived through WW2 and the Holocaust. I sometimes have an eerie sense of reality while reading about it!)
As a result, I have never broached the topic with A. I might need to do that before suddenly handing over this book to her, as I would like her to take the purpose of the book seriously. Which to my mind is the idea of the balancing of our good and bad behaviours, and that they have a bearing on the possibilities that may be open to us, and that even there, we can excercise our choice, our free will to direct the path we may take.
And, as I look at it, that needs quite a bit of courage. Which I am desperately in need of when I sometimes just let things be and take their own course.
THAT is what I value my friends for. For their ability to make me introspect.
A well written book, which takes the montessori route of going from the known to the unknown, and letting a child work out most things for himself /herself. Maybe a bit limited to the Hindu way of thinking, so it might be a bit unbelievable for others. Not unless they have a universalistic bent of mind.
Phenomena that science has attempted to explain, not very consistently or convincingly. For these lie in the realm of the unknown, where words like uncanny, co-incidence, extra-sensory, sixth sense, the nth dimension, etc., make more sense than the cold, hard reasoning of science.
Recently A was gifted this very interesting book by a friend, who is an incredibly wonderful person, and whose blog-posts always make me introspect, think, re-inspect my choices. To my shame, I do not always make the changes I need to make, but the seed gets sown in my subconscious, which keeps nurturing it. Some day, I hope, these will take root, and compel me to make those changes.
 |
| Pic courtesy The Hindu |
Written by Dr Shyamala Vatsa
Illustrated by J.K.Naren
Published by Fo'c'sle Publications
Ages: 10+ (my estimate)
Harsh is an ordinary 10-yr-old, who loves getting boisterous with his friends at school, is a keen athlete, and loves messing around with his younger sister Sanjali, grandmother and his parents at home.
But sometimes, something strange happens. Almost unawares, he sees himself as someone else, at some other time, in another place, often with some of his dear ones in some other role. Perplexingly, these experiences differ totally in their time-place specifics every time.
Harsh is confused. What is it that he keeps seeing? Is it some kind of memory? If it is, how is it that he is not himself, Harsh, in these memories? How can he have memories of something that might have happened 100, 1000 or even more years ago, in a totally alien place? Events and places that have been read of only in his history / geography lessons? If it is just associations his mind has been making, how does it all seem so real, so vivid, as if it had really happened? And even more strangely, how is it that his sister can see the exact same things that he has been seeing?
So many questions. Wonderfully for him, his parents do not scoff at him, or put him off with "you must be imagining things!" They keep communication channels open, and try to explain things in a matter-of-fact way, using his everyday experiences. The explanations, of course, are consistent with their beliefs.
How there might be other souls around us, probably helping us along. How a soul may be born again, and experience different things.
How the Karma of the soul- that balance sheet of all the good and bad things it does- leads him to the next life-experience. How this seemingly out-of-our-control-path-of-destiny can be actually modified by us, channelised by us in the right direction by the use of 'free will.' By excercising our choice. Of not squandering our gifts. Of turning bad times into opportunities for change, possibly for the better.
How there may be many alternate worlds co-existing in the universe, at different times, in different places. As explained to him about alternate universes, wormholes, curved spacetime and time travel by a scientist friend of his father.
The book tries to explain the invisible patterns in the universe, that may be sensed more by minds that are open to the infinite possibilities, like those of children. It may be a more commonplace phenomena than we realise. Maybe most adults have lost this childlike quality of the mind, making our thinking more mundane. Leaving it to the 'exceptional' ones to pursue a path to ...one may call it enlightenment.
I found the book very interesting in that it attempted to put forth a very unusual topic- that of reincarnation and karma- in the format of a story for children. I am not really a believer in reincarnation- or, to put it more honestly, I'll say that I do not know if I believe in reincarnation. The ambiguity comes about because of the culture, the faith I have grown up with, which sets a lot of store by this theory. So I might be a closet believer after all, but not very comfortable with the idea that I might have been someone other than myself in another life. (If I do consider it sometimes, I believe I may have lived through WW2 and the Holocaust. I sometimes have an eerie sense of reality while reading about it!)
As a result, I have never broached the topic with A. I might need to do that before suddenly handing over this book to her, as I would like her to take the purpose of the book seriously. Which to my mind is the idea of the balancing of our good and bad behaviours, and that they have a bearing on the possibilities that may be open to us, and that even there, we can excercise our choice, our free will to direct the path we may take.
And, as I look at it, that needs quite a bit of courage. Which I am desperately in need of when I sometimes just let things be and take their own course.
THAT is what I value my friends for. For their ability to make me introspect.
A well written book, which takes the montessori route of going from the known to the unknown, and letting a child work out most things for himself /herself. Maybe a bit limited to the Hindu way of thinking, so it might be a bit unbelievable for others. Not unless they have a universalistic bent of mind.
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