Where are we heading …?

The doorbell rang the third time. It was the courier boy, all set to get my autograph and leave the books. It was my first graders books. She was already off to school. Day after day she had waited eagerly for every door bell to check if it were her books that is getting delivered.

With the parcel at hand, I just found a comfortable place where I could do the check list. Just a matter of few minutes everything was done, now comes the massive job of covering these!

As I got myself to work, I just recalled those good old days.

Our school generally closed on April 12 or 13 a day before the Tamil New year’s day. Though we collected our report cards on that day, we were given dates for each class to collect their wards books. It usually starts by May beginning and closes by mid of May.

I could still feel how excited the mornings of that special day were. We friends generally plan a particular time and coax our parents to come the same time. Though there used to be long queues, we used to sneak out to the corners leaving our parents on the queue. Some of us would be exaggerating on the vacations we went and few chalking out the entire trip schedule we were to. We used to visit the school canteen for a little snack and catch up with rest of the stories.

Back to the queue we would excitedly scroll through our new books discussing how tough the year ahead is going to be!

At home I used to enjoy covering my books along with my mother. Choosing the brown cover and most importantly the cartoon labels and see my names on the new books made my day. And at the same time we learnt the art of covering the books too!

But somehow I had a feeling that today’s children were deprived of these simple pleasures. Is the online mantra the secret thief?or the current new gen education system?

Though the school closes by April, the next years syllabus are up during March, which means they start their next class before the end of vacation. During the vacations today’s children are bombarded with home works and worksheets with their Formative Assessment starting just after the school.

Gone are those days when holidays were meant to be spent at Grandparents house. Indulging in your favorite food , playing through the day, listening to grand ma stories , having dinner at terrace with moonlight at its full brim, sharing our bed  with our cousins where all done with such fun and happiness.This did obviously develop our social skills free of cost and most importantly we it learnt unaware.

No wonder in today's world we run to shops to find grand ma stories,look out for public speaking programs and  take children to play homes so that they learn to mingle with other kids.

 we bombard the children with too many streamlined classes. Isn’t it funny that we send our children to personality development classes? Aren’t we all aware that social skill needs to be practiced like any other skill?

A phone bell put an abrupt end to my musings, it was a parent of my little ones friend, who called me inquire if I know someone whom she could outsource the wrapping job.

 we are so tuned to outsourcing things that we never realize its actual value. Soon there would be day where the technology would definitely over power us and a day would come where we need to send our children to classes to learn moral values, ethics and basic human relations.

Isn't the purpose of life is to live to its brim rather than merely existing? will we ever stop this mad chase? 

As I journey my Imperfect life 

  

It was a bright Sunday morning. The fragrant aroma of filter coffee percolated the entire room. As I served my husband his cup, my eyes were all on him, just waiting to see his first reaction. Before I could sip mine I was already waiting for a compliment. As I was about to sip mine, I heard him say “hey, what happened, the sugar seems too abnormal” and that was the most unpleasant comment, I was not prepared to take it.

Ready for my counter I replied “is that so, taking in another sip from mine, it was just perfect for me”

I felt glad as I buried myself in the headlines of the newspaper. An uncanny headlines caught my attention. "12 year old boy ran away from home".  My heart raced as I scanned for further details.

It was one of those cases where the parent is found hyperactive! Increase in pressure to perform in various classes and obsession to high marks and grades had made the boy elope.

As a parent we always crave for perfection with our children. But if we do a bit of self-assessment, dig deep into one self we would find a lot of procrastination and indiscipline

•  How many times a week would we have snoozed the alarm knowing we would be late, but we fail to accept when our little one asks for five minutes extra during playtime because we love perfection!
• There were times when our own favorite food sounded boring and dull and craved for something new, but do we accept it when our little one puts in a stubborn foot to his/her all-time favorite?
• That moment when boss cancels our vacation due to a significant meeting at office sounds ridiculous but it seems definitely OK when we break our promises with our little one        
• The time when we quit our gym sessions to have an extra dose of sleep is perfect but when our little one skips a music session seems a great taboo.

It is obviously one of the fore most duty of a parent to discipline the child. But let it happen with fun. Mistakes do happen and let it happen. Letting things go off once in a while is OK after all we are not programmed Robots. 

It is important to have plan. A plan helps you to work better, but if any new thing happens let it flow and enjoy the flow.

A simple morning coffee can be just perfect for one and totally flavorless for other. Perfection is very subjective, let’s not wear our power glasses to view others

.

As I enjoy my imperfect life perfectly, do share yours!

HOLI -DAY 

It was pleasant Sunday morning, nice warm sunshine invaded the rooms making it warm and bright. Sipping my morning coffee I could see the flowers in full bloom, and tiny little bees and butterflies welcomed their first sign of spring!

Its spring time! It made me await few things – the new flower that would blossom in my garden, buzzing of bees and few new nests that would pop up. Is that all? Nope most importantly the whole family waited for “THE DAY” that’s the Holi day!

One could proudly flaunt that the best days in one’s life is always those fun filled childhood. The innocence of those cherished days, the carefree attitude, without any apprehensions of tomorrow, to live in the present made them more memorable.

There are few distinguished moments in everybody’s life, one such occasion in my life was Holi day, when I was a sixth grader.

My father had got transferred and we relocated at the middle of the academic year. Though in the same part of the country it was a new city. We moved into a lovely apartment, a 10 storey building with children’s park, lawn, tennis area and swimming pool. My brother and I loved every bit of it. Soon we made lots of friends.

Being a cosmopolitan city we had an opportunity to meet people with different languages, religions and different festivities too. There used to be a big community hall which is generally utilized for all gatherings and celebrations. We celebrated lots of festivals from Dussehera, to Christmas, to Eid.

My mom being an amicable woman had her own crowd. We used to have a great time tasting new varieties most of the time. Some time it’s sadya a cuisine from Kerala, sometime its Bisi bele bhat a Karnataka cuisine or it’s a Thanjavur Elai virundhu. Not to forget the varieties in snacks.

Like all festivals Holi was also celebrated with great pompous and enthusiasm.

The night before Holi we had bonfire. There was a famous mythology associated with it. It was when Prahalad son Hiranyakashipu refused to budge his father and remained devoted to Lord Vishnu. Holika  Prahalad’s evil aunt tried to burn him but instead got burnt. It is believed Lord Vishnu protected Prahalad and slayed Hiranyakashipu.To reverberate this incident, just before the bonfire we enacted the story of Holika and burnt effigies. Even the adults danced to the tunes and sang up to their heart.

Finally it was dinner time, we had potluck where in each prepared their best. It was scrumptious, mouthwatering and most inviting feast I had ever had, not only because of its flavors and varieties but it had a very special ingredient called Love. Caring and sharing made the difference.

The next morning we smeared each other colors with water guns and balloon rockets, what fun!!

To this day, it’s been the best. My unforgettable Holi-day

"I’m pledging to #KhulKeKheloHoli this year by sharing my Holi memories at BlogAdda in association with Parachute Advansed.”

Dream profession!!

It was just a usual morning when the suprabratham of the impeccable M.S.Subbalakshmi fondly known as M.S.Amma woke me up from my deep slumber. The day always dawned with the scintillating singer’s famous morning hymns.

It is one of those usual scenes in my house wherein the smell of sambarani filled the entire house, giving it a heavenly abode with the chanting of shloka’s by my mom along with the audio at the background made my mornings. It is at this conventional serene ambiance that I grew up.

It is not abnormal for a girl cultured at this background to be interested in Carnatic music. Soon I joined the league, where in weekly two days I attended my music classes. Though I loved music it was no longer in my agenda of the so called “career”. For music seemed a distant horizon.

Soon I grew up to qualify myself as “the city girl” and being a techie took my whole day. Life continued until it took a full 360 degrees curve after my marriage.

New place, new family and most importantly new responsibilities!!! Which I never dreamt of. There were certain things which kept me alive when I felt lost like a child in a busy market wailing for her mother. And top stood on the list the familiar voice of my childhood, M.S.Amma. I felt home and it gave a soothing comfort. I felt nearer to my home, to my childhood and cherished every moment of it.

Home away from. Soon I made it my home. My little angel made my garden of life blossom. Soon the scents of flowers filled my life. I was happy again! , it was one of those family function that happened in our hometown called lalgudi. Whole family gathered, it was such fun filled occasion for the children to be with grandparents, great grandparents and aunts. It was even a big respite for us from our usual grind.

Children loved the place as my mother-in-law filled them with their favorite sweets, the backyards where they could roam about freely and most importantly their train watching sessions in the evening with their grandfather who carried them on his shoulders.

There was a small Anjaneya temple few yards away from our house. It was night of galore at that temple. There were treats to one’s eyes, taste buds and ears too!! . I and My co sister strolled around the whole street holding hand in hand, enthralled by the music we stood mesmerized there for some time. It was a usual break for the singer, when suddenly my co sister pulled me around the mike and sought permission from the singer to fill the gap.

Soon we were performing, suddenly I could feel the oneness with the god. It was such a divine moment, probably godsend to perform in front of a predefined audience. The ambiance was just perfect and soon there were applause's, every learner of Carnatic music does imagine big for stage sometime.

The young girl in me who always yearned for music of M.S jumped in joy as she satisfied her hunger as a singer. Do I call it my dream come true? Yes, for those cherished moments of living as a singer in front of the divine, what more can be one’s DREAM PROFESSION! 

This post is a part of Write Over the Weekend, an initiative for Indian Bloggers by BlogAdda.