The gift of life....

A long absence from writing my blog....not a deliberate intention but unfortunately just time getting allotted elsewhere with a fair share of travel thrown in.  The most important news of course is the birth of our grandson Mehran. A Persian name chosen by his parents that means kindness, the baby is the spitting image of Mithun at the same age only with a mop of dark velvet black hair! The parents are complete pro's in the Mummy- Daddy department and so the cozy three some roost with great peace in their haven at Palm court Mumbai. The proud grandparents have the delight of being in charge of the  adoration department, which is not a department that we intend to give over to any one else in our life time! Little Mehran of course tolerates us all with the wisdom that all infants posses, allowing the family to be the complete circus that takes care of every whim and fancy from his button nose to those legendary tippy-toes as he feeds and sleeps the clock away!

I am of course transported back to my own experience of early motherhood thirty-five years ago. Mithun was born on the 2nd of November 1978. I was offered the option of having him on my birthday and chose instead to have him on my fathers birthday. I had induced labour that began in the morning at 7.30 and Mithun was born just before midnight! That first night alone with him in the crib that seemed too small for him, were  memorable  moments.

Little Mehran has been born into a space of great love, to parents who have waited with every passing day of the nine month pregnancy with such anticipation for him to be part of their lives. Swaddled up he lies as a complete bundle of cuteness as we watch his every move and take countless photographs and videos of the little mite....

Our lives can never be the same again. Love does that. It holds our  conscience to an accountability of caring and nurturing; and the legacies of life, distilled from all corners of the world, get harnessed to provide the wisdom and teachings that will shape this tiny baby with the necessary faith, hope and  optimism to be the best that he can be.

Little Mehran....you are a special gift of life!

A special moment to cherish...

We are so proud to announce

the birth of our grandson

Mehran

who was born to us on the

20th of September 2013

at 8.57 am....

My opinion for what it counts for.....

Ok picture me with Brian Adam's summer of 69 blaring in my car as I  drive negotiating Baroda traffic with rain pelting down, all dressed up in a sari - bindi, shindi, churries and all....like a female version of Mad Max  out on the town........ 

OK I understand....it must come through as either quite mad or totally sad....! However even sadder than my nostalgic music taste combined with my masala bling dressing up was the three hour ordeal of watching Bhag Milka Singh Bhag! Alright I am not trying to change my profession to become a movie critic  though it is quite tempting when I see Anupama Chopra with all the holly wood hotties that I would die to chuck under their stubbly chins,  but honestly I just cannot keep a lid on this streeeeetccccchhhhheeed out movie ....!

At the outset I will say that I was really delighted that our Flying Sikh's story is being immortalised in celluloid, and I was absolutely wowed by Farhan Akhtar's commitment to get his body into the genuineness of shape of  an athletes.....kudos to that....

The real star of the film was the little boy who plays the young Milka Singh. What a brilliant portal with such confidence and utter credibility. The best scene of all the end when Milka Singh takes the lap of victory and his younger self runs along side him. The young boys face radiates such a light and poetry that it takes your breath away. 

But now comes the "why for" section.....

The narrative had all the potential of being a brilliantly compelling story if only the script writer had been of the standard to comprehend what nuanced story telling requires. You were held to a boring literalness of fact and incidents that left no scope for the understated as everything was over elaborated and long drown out,  setting your teeth on edge. Three hours....what on earth were the makers of this film thinking of in subjecting viewers to this ordeal.

And who cast missy Sonan Kapoor? She was just TERRIBLE. Caked with make-up and with a costume designer who apparently did not do any research of consequence, she became a source of irritation every time she appeared on the screen with her one dimensional acting. Farhan who is normally an actor I enjoy watching somehow fell terribly short in this film, making the "punjabi" character more a popular type-cast image of what sardars are perceived to be. Also the insistence to play back the horrors of partition in the manner of repeated flash backs to the same incident did little to serve the film with poignancy that such facts of history hold. 

I continued through out the film to feel as though the script writer and the director feared terribly that we would miss the point of the film, and therefore like in a class room with toddlers I was being inflicted upon the insistence to be emphatically told something till it got drilled into my head! No doubt the gentleman upon whom the film was being made must have had countless anecdotes and personal stories to recount....but film making must employ techniques that do beyond merely stringing a life-story together ......

If you've had a fight with someone and need to cool down for a few hours then do go and watch this film......otherwise give it a miss.

On the other hand Kai po che which I watched on DVD at home yesterday is a very well structured film and a must watch. So if you've missed it like I did when it was just released and in the cinemas, I urge you to buy a DVD and tuck your feet up for some great acting. Once again the young actor who plays the part of Ali the budding cricketer was superb....

The bigger plan of life...

You are more likely to succeed if you know your strengths and weakness, your place in society and your worth to others.

Feng Menglong

Planning is essential to the landscaping of ones life. This is the most important canon of all if wisdom and maturity is to be developed, and where informed knowledge provides us the ability to accept the responsibilities we need to in life.

Old age is a terribly shunned subject and old people are often relegated to having to fend for themselves in their old age because their offsprings or immediate family have not factored their dependency needs into their lives. However old age escapes no one unless via the tragedy of an early untimely death, and so therefore it is unfortunate that people are almost always uncomfortable with this subject. Living life in the moment alone has consequences that can be very hard to overcome when the energies of youth desert us. Therefore I firmly believe that comprehending the realities of aging, as an evolving process of life,  becomes the keystone to a safe future for every individual.

Addressing what we require to offer as appropriate governance to the geriatric years of our lives necessitates that each of us structure and plan the life that we desire to live with considered deliberation, especially if we choose to remain active in our careers or professions unless hampered by dementia.  Therefore it becomes paramount to have secure support systems in place, way ahead of time, that respect and nurture these formulated plans; and which are dependable and a surety for one to bank on. 

Being solely responsible for my parent’s wellbeing since my twenties, I have witnessed first hand the flaws of senior citizens who avoid planning for their old age. My parents were sensitive about the issue of aging and hid the truth of the inevitable behind the closed doors of their emotional sensitivity towards the subject. They had an unrealistic assumption that they would be able to remain independent of aided living assistance and believed they would not require monitored attention from me for their needs.  And so it fell to me to create a system of care-giving when the time occurred and it was only because of my mulish anticipation that I was able to adapt immediately to the requirement of the time. Communication is therefore a must as it creates the necessary synergies of bonding with learning experiences that benefit everyone if a tapestry of understanding is woven within a family.

Turning 50 four years ago I have begun to address this issue for my own future as a senior citizen. It has been interesting to view the varying reactions I have received from both family and friends regarding my insistence to not fight shy of expressing my views and anxieties about my future. Planning the modalities of my life two decades from now is essential if I am to preserve the productivity of my energies in my old age. If I don’t I will become an encumbrance to my loved ones which my pride and arrogance will not permit.  Friends and family who have family members who are aging find this communication of immense value as it provides a common space to examine how to approach the changes that aging ruthlessly brings with it. Also in India there are no longer the privileges of a domestic labor force that previously stepped in to look after the aged in the absence of the family. 

Today there are aided living spaces available in India. However they cater more for the rich Indian and the NRI’s. A time will come when this facility will become more reasonably priced with the acute demand that I foresee us as a nation requiring. Our youth today do not always prescribe to the traditions of the joint family and so the Indian nuclear family will shortly find itself out on a limb in matters of familial coexistence. Perhaps the concept of the commune may need to be revisited as a viable option of interdependence. Ideas of friends buying properties together in gated communities, or collective living becoming the alternative to the joint family are ideas that must be built upon today to meet with the reality of the coming generations aging and having not to compromise on their own options of fulfillment.

At the end of the day the cycle of life must be nurtured till the end, where the elderly are embraced by dignity and grace, and above all supported by love and consideration at all times. 

Read the writing on the wall...

Flash floods....destruction....and the ineptness of disaster management by the civic authorities makes for tragic consequences. Pilgrim sites are always vulnerable areas with the overload of visitors which as a result become potential venues of tragedy when natural calamities occur. However India never learns  it's lesson. The political tug of wars which always arise  dissipates any possibilities of change or  implementation of new policies becoming a reality. Across party lines politicians  will always seek to stall any and all attempts at better governance,  because the bottom line is that no one ever keeps the welfare of the nation as the real focus when becoming  elected representatives in government posts. We as citizens are left with numerous "battle grounds"  that have no victory to record as all issues are played out to the tunes of vote bank politics. No stand is ever taken because to do so would require guts to perhaps be viewed as unpopular within some sections of an electoral base; which of course no "wise politician" will ever contemplate. 

Death in an over populated country has no meaning. We think of all situations of chaos as part of the great Indian traditions of Karma and Kismet; and so another day begins with no conscience of the wilful wrongs we contribute towards as we absolve ourselves with tokenism rhetoric. 

I wish that incognito visits across the country by influential power brokers within the central and state  governments would become part of the mandate of governance. Why are migrant labour forces compelled to live on pavements? Why is sanitation still an unattended issue in India? Would any public toilet be considered user friendly and hygienic by a politician? Are the constitutional norms for education truly the birthright of all in reality? Why are roads  never well laid? Why is town and urban planning so shoddy? Why is corruption so obviously rampant and yet never addressed ? The list of "Whys" are long, but the issue here is really to point out that accountability seems to slip through every ones fingers conveniently.  Finally there is always the protection of the power brokers amongst themselves that will cover up the wrong doings as well as  manipulate all systems to exonerate themselves. I think the recent BCCI and IPL cricket tamasha  clearly showed how the powerful protect themselves because the code is never to "snitch" on the sacred brotherhood of power ever!

Today the BJP divisions are a paradox of their own mismanagement. When the Gujarat riots occurred the courage to book the leadership under whom the atrocities towards a minority community occurred never happened. Instead L.K Advani lauded praise on his colleague. Today this same colleague has displaced him, as Advani attempts to caution his party from following this same leadership he once stood up for. If you can figure the logic of this, good for you; because for me I am truly stumped by it all. It is so ludicrous that the polity of India is so two faced in all that it does and still believes it can face the nation and ask for its trust through an election mandate.

Yes I'm naive. I want a better India. From every aspect....I want a functioning political system that understands the responsibility of nation building through wise and effective governance. I want a visually beautiful India that blends it's history with it's contemporaneity from an understanding of ecological and social accuracy. Where democratic  methods of planning habitation affords dignity and up-liftment where genuinely required. I want traffic rules to quell the chaos of city life and development to be where financial accountability is transparent. I want gender equality to represent itself not in tokenism but in programs that can punish offenders to crimes such as female infanticide and acid attacks and dowry deaths. I want the farmer to know that his or her plight of a failed crop will not be ignored and that subsidiaries and waivers of loans can be offered to them rather than suicide becoming their only option.

Let us clean up the debris that is strewn around us both literally as well as metaphorically. I remember my friend Pablo giving me a T. Shirt with the Indian flag on it,  many years ago,  just before I boarded a plane to go abroad. I loved wearing it and then later my son Mithun sort of inherited it,  and wore it till it was tread bare. We all hold a national pride and want to flaunt it. But for heavens sakes we need to have things to feel proud about. The way India is sweeping its faults under the carpet is only indicative of the rot of apathy that has set in. How about some proud Indians demanding that wrongs can be righted.....how about our political service working for us....

A sad ending .....

When I first saw images of Jiah Khan a few years ago I thought to myself that there was a palpable desperation that came through the "posed" boldness of this young girl. I felt instinctively that she was laying herself vulnerable by her extreme need to "succeed" in the flashy world of Bollywood. I thought nothing more of it till the tragic news of her death was plastered all over the TV channels, making it into a reality show for their TRP ratings. It isn't really about love stories going wrong that brings these tragic spaces of defeat into the mental landscapes of the younger generation (the suicides of many young women who were known faces in the recent past is already recorded),  but much more the craving to be a celebrity at all costs. When that alludes them then the inner rage of discontent swells, and if not checked, spills over to consume all rationality and sensibility. 

Fame is undoubtedly a heady space of existence. However the road of sustained achievements is what can lead to fame. It has no short cuts and comes from the quiet insistence of personal excellence that others take note of. But what I have observed is that the youth of today often believe that high visibility alone leads to fame.   They then instill within their own minds a make-believe  celebrity status where being noticed becomes the feel good factor, the high that opiates instead of better sense prevailing of old school norms that teach you that there is no substitute for hard work. In today's world of easy-come easy-go,  the dispensability of people has equally become part of the throw away life-style we have adopted as "avid consumers" of life's goodies, and so these impressionable young people don't foresee this cruel reality;  and in many instances fall prey to deep frustrations of "assumed" failure. So my question then is where does it leave for the protection of their vulnerability in this fast paced circuit that feels its self-worthiness lies in the flash-bulb moment and the page 3 photo opportunity?

Creating ones self worthiness comes from the delicate balance of loving oneself and also having the courage to be self critical. People need to take a reality check when they begin to feel victimised by the world. The blame game is often a convenient one. However a worthy life is a holistic one that mediates peace within ones self  by understanding  that the universe is truly vast.  Our existence becomes meaningful only when we live life with responsibility that celebrates life instead of searching for reasons to drown ourselves. We therefore need to  learn to love and protect what keeps us grounded, and to encase ourselves within a world that holds dreams that are achievable.   The tragic consequences of manic anger can be potent.  Suicide is often a romanticised space by those who crave attention. I have experienced a friend committing suicide. His act was one of defiance. To teach others a lesson. Of course no such purpose ever gets served.

We don't know the story of Jiah Khan. However what is a time tested truth is that the simple pulse of life, if maintained,  holds more to offer than the jarring violence of destruction.  Everyone wants to be loved and understood. But violence and recrimination is a dangerous venting that never justifies itself. 

The voice of reason....

The oral histories of women fascinate me. Women share their lives in ways that are unique because of their willingness to offer insights into their personal worlds that hold both the areas of difficulties as well as those moments of triumph, and they do so with no undue self-consciousness or inhibitions. The struggle of women who resist the straight jackets of conformity are always stories that are the most inspirational; holding anecdotes and parables that have the resonance of strength and courage for all to see.

Amongst my favourites is Maya Angelou an American author and poet who has published seven autobiographies that share her life with an amazingly rich candour. Reading these stories are motivational. They take us through our own labyrinth of life experiences and coax us to ask more pertinent questions, ones that we may sometimes perhaps avoid because of our discomfort to confront what we consider to be difficult. Oral narrative forms are imperative to social histories and hold subtexts that are invaluable and often complex. 

Asian women in particular fascinate me with the extreme worlds that we juggle. In situations of economic difficulties the professional and the domestic space are often so finely meshed together within that clock of 24 hours. And it is done so effortlessly that often the sacrifice and endeavor can sometimes be missed by those who may have perhaps benefitted the most from these tightrope acrobatics of survival. 

My world was thrown open at an early age to the wisdom of learning that came in many instances from the oral lessons of elders. I am drawn to listening to interviews and as a student in England understood my fathers love of the radio. The sound of a voice that rings sharply with the experiences of personal truths is a blanket worth wrapping oneself in. Listening to Nelson Mandela and more recently Aung San Suu kyi in televised interviews speaking so simply yet with such eloquence of their respective journeys to discover political liberation, and as a consequence, personal  liberation too. 

Even today when I open books of Indian miniatures, where visuals that hold my heart are looked at frequently, I hear the voices of Mildred Archer and B.N Goswami come back to me,  as I relive those times one has sat in rapt attention listening to lectures and conversations that gave shape to a world of my personal belonging. Perhaps my most precious memories are those few occasions when I visited my mothers ancestral home as a child, and fell asleep to the sound of the voices of the women sharing stories of their lives together. I never imagined how much I would hold that memory as a personal space of history, to insist  from myself a life that must hold meaning. 

I was gifted a book titled The Cat and the Tao. I love the visuals and didn't pay much attention to the proverbs, till recently. On reading them, this one in particular struck me with its simple relevance:

To know what is going on takes sense;

To know what to do about it takes wisdom.