Thursday, February 22, 2007

Reassurance in disguise

Reassured – that’s what I needed to feel, in a strange, new city sans friends, sans familiarity, sans refuge.

I remember walking down the slightly winding, tree-lined lane in Aundh on a rainy Sunday evening, wishing desperately that the apartment-hunting nightmare would end. I couldn’t even pronounce Aundh back then – was it Awwndh or Owwndh or Oondh? The realtor had promised to show us a house that was available on the aforesaid lane. But, it wasn’t to be. The landlord had forgotten to leave the keys behind. He apologised profusely and promised to show us the house the next day. We were exhausted from paint smells, suspect neigbourhoods, enthusiastic landlords and dust-laden furniture. We were ready to head back to the other part of town, resigning ourselves to another day of looking for affordable apartments. I didn’t think I’d come back there again; we had already made a list of apartments that we wanted take a look at the next day.

On my way out of the realtor’s office, I saw, nestled in a corner, under the shade of a very generous tree, a small, cosy bookstore. I stared a moment longer, as if I had just stumbled upon a precious coral! I think I decided then, albeit unconsciously, that I will take that apartment. Whatever the rent, whatever its imperfections – irrational as that may seem. Don’t take my word that that decision was an unconscious one!

And, take the apartment, I did. The next evening. The rent decidedly overshot the budget and the walls of the bedroom and kitchen were painted a depressing combat-fatigues-green. And, I was wildly happy. The bookstore was shut. But, I winked at its closed shutters and promised to make friends with it as soon as it woke up from its Monday siesta.

twistntales, for the uninitiated. Oddly, inexplicably reassuring – the subject of this post.

Saturday, February 17, 2007

Spirituality in music

I just realised when i was putting my profile for one of these blog sites, the preferred music is : soul music, sufi and indian classical.

Come to think of it, music has that rare ability to reach out from the heart, a complete outpouring which when combined with a higher purpose seems to simply lift me up. Today's music simply doesn't move me unless it is a kailash kher or a shoba mudgal singing out loud to the Noble. Listening to Jim Reeves sing "silent Night" or MS Subbulakshmi in "Korai Onrum Illai" or Balamurli in Jayadeva lyrics or Pithukuli Murugudas for Krishna - they all have the ability to move you.

These musicians became famous because they got bhakti and soul into their music. "Soft footsteps sounded behind me" was so much ahead of time and it all started in the lawn in Jaipur with Viji and Mani running down with the topics and doing his (in)famous jig in the lobby of Jaipur University. But the essence reached Sampson David.

Mothers and daughters

What is it about mothers and daughters ? Do we make them in our own image ? Are we made in our mother's image ?

When i asked amma about what she wanted with my first pay cheque very many years back, she just said, all i want is that you do the same for your daughter ! and how i'm struggling to live upto it !

But it is something more in the bond that intrigues me - all the frustration and teenage angst against parents vanish when you turn 18/ 19 years and then i suppose we relate as two women, not so much as mother-daughter. A mother is a daughter's best friend. My best years with amma have been the 5 years of college life when a long leisurely lunch just before hockey practice. The bond built then only grows deeper as one progresses through life through various stages of marriage, childbirth etc. The bond deepens as one becomes a mother.

My almost every interaction with nan, somehow or other links to some memory thread in the past. Today Sumitra said something very poignant - every girl that she has known in twistntales has changed so much after working here a few months. What do i do to my daughters ? Most of them i realise are after my own image. I was like them when i was growing up - only i dnt have a twistntales to offer me a part-time job. O! i would have loved it !

Back to the bonding - the books therefore that i have loved and thoroughly enjoyed esp. in the last few years, have a lot to do with this relationship - "Pitching my tent", "Changing" "Diddi" "Books and Islands" "Shooting Water" ....seems to go on. I suppose it all started with "Exodus" where the realtionship between Elizabeth and Karen was more fascinating to me than the one with Ari Ben Canan.

i especially loved Diddi. It finally in Indian circumstances acknowledged the mother-in-law as well. Hats off to Ira Pande for her generosity. It takes a lot of generosity of spirit to dedicate a book on your mother to your mother-in-law, and not to your father or siblings !

This same thread also makes me feel sad(!) for women who do not have daughters! They miss out a lot in this relationship !

Wednesday, February 14, 2007

Our daily conversations

As usual, "amma can you read me a story?"
"No, I have work to do"
"Do it tomorrow"
"I have to go to the Store tomorrow"
"Is there so much work"
"Yes, that's what makes twistntales so beautiful. Do you want me to close it down?"
"No. But make less work"
"How?"
"Make it worse"
"????"
"So people will stop coming. So, you will have less work"
"But if people don't come, I'll have to close it down"
"NO !!!!!"

What i do realise is that for nan, her entire childhood memory is that of twistntales. It is her emotional sister. She calls tia, alisha and now jahnavi shop sisters ! She was 3 years old when i started twistntales. today, in a month's time, she will be 8 yrs old, and tnt will be 5. Are her chilhood memories pleasant ? I have lived with the guilt of abandoning her to creche, grandparents at times .. and though have spent a lot of time with her relative to other moms, but not enough according to my own standards. Are her childhood memories pleasant ?

I do not know. I suppose its only now when she starts reading and enjoying books, that twistntales will start growing on her. Currently it is more the extra attention she gets from the "shop sisters" thats getting her excited.

We (nan and me) saw "You've got mail" yesterday. I am wicked ! She is right. Am a "wicked witch".

Tia and Jahnavi have started working on our Harry Potter countdown ! It is nice to see them all excited !

Parenting lessons

Shyam wrote this last year, but sent it across couple of months back. It is a must read for all of us "busy" parents.

"what my daughter taught me?

"This is not original for sure. It is the culmination of a lot of reading, thinking, parenting, stealing, thinking, whiling time, coaching, and being grossly unemployable for the past few years. On the eve of my daughter’s 5th birthday, a few thoughts….

Apart from the fact that I am a proud -- and imperfect -- parent of a five-year-old daughter, I know next to nothing about this complicated and totally subjective issue.So, I'll tell you what my little daughter has taught her father.

Now this might sound sacrilegious to those who subscribe to the 'spare the rod and spoil the child' doctrine', but I was sure that, no matter what the provocation, I would never, ever, raise an angry hand on my child. My mother very strongly believed in not sparing the rod, and though in the total parenting that I got, I have no regrets, I can still recall thrashings that I have got. I also decided early on in life that one cannot (should not) got back 30 – 35 years in time and judge many actions in life. Maybe it was the done thing at that point in time and society.

Also my grandfather had taught me that a child should be treated like a prince (princess?) till the age of 6 and a friend from the age of 20. So my princess is still in that stage!Does this mean I condone indiscipline?

Let me put it this way; in my house, a raised eyebrow works far better than a raised hand ever will. A raised hand works as a threat rather than a carried out act! God knows there have been times when I've been sorely tempted to reach for the rod; when everything else just did not seem to work. I have, on numerous occasions, been forced to count to a hundred backwards, with my fists firmly clenched behind my back. So far, it's been worth it.The other thing I was sure about was that, while fulfilling my duties and responsibilities as a parent, I didn't want to lose the chance of gaining a good friend. She is the excuse that I get home, and I want it to stay that way. She is the delight and I love it. She is the reason I leave parties at 9 pm, and I like it that way. She is the reason I take the 22 hrs flight to reach home at 2am so that I can see her before she goes to school. I like it that way.

Unfortunately, the duties of a friend sometimes clash severely with the responsibilities of being a parent. And, when they do, you will never know whether or not you made the right call.Believe in miraclesThis began with her birth. Every parent of a child born with the right number of digits and organs knows what this means. Since then, it's been a miracle every day. Every time my wife had a sonography, the only question was is the kid fine.

You cannot stop Time. There have been innumerable moments when my I fervently wished I could just freeze our daughter at a certain endearing age or moment, only to realise later that I would have been truly cursed if the Gods had indeed answered my prayers.While my heart swelled with pride at each milestone -- the first tentative steps, the first time she saw a dog, the first time she fell, the first attempts to jump two stairs without help, the first unaided visit to the toilet, deep down somewhere there was a sense of -- for want of a better word -- tremendous loss, of sadness, because I knew that she would no longer need my assistance for yet another action.That every minute you ignore her appeal for attention because you were busy with something else will come back to haunt you when you least expect it. And there's not much you can do about it.
I missed my daughter's fourth birthday. No matter how hard I try, there is nothing I can do, ever, to make up for that.

You get respect only if you give respect.

How many times have I condescendingly dismissed her dreams and fantasies as those of a child? Those moments haunt me.

There cannot be a better teacher than a child to teach you to dream.

Your child learns from what you do, not what you say.

Please switch off the cartoons is greeted with pleasure, because it means I have to play or read with her, not watch CNBC. My mother still does not watch any T V, so I can appreciate my daughter demanding it!

You can learn from your child.

When I was chiding her for being a poor learner, she said – can’t you see yourself as a bad coach? For a coach, it came as a slap!

You cannot dream for your child.

Her mother, her grandmother, her teacher, her peers can be pushy. If you cannot control THEM, teach her to have fun. It is important. My sister teaches my daughter to break rules. I thought it is the best thing she has been taught by any adult.
It is always better, though infinitely more difficult, to encourage them to dream. My daughter draws her dreams! What fun!

It is never too early to teach responsibility.

To reinforce the notion that every action has a reaction, ranging from pleasant to downright painful. That pain caused by her own mistakes should teach more than cause her pain. When she gets hurt, her first reaction is to cry and then tell me how quickly she stopped crying. Or explain to her why I call her at 8.15 to apologise for coming at 9 pm instead of 8.30 pm. That adults too must keep their promise. Or teach her the thinking process.

Hanuman, Sita, Ram, Ravana, Goldilocks, Mickey Mouse, Tom, Jerry, dragons, ghosts, goblins and monsters are as real to her as income taxes and death are to me. And when she feels weak, she can pray to Sun God for strength. No matter how hard you try, there will be times when you will be totally, absolutely wrong.And finally, immaterial of what Kalidasa, Shakespere, or any other great writer says, the love caused by procreation is far greater than any other form of love.
To quote, If I see a car about to hit a friend, I would like to believe I would try to push him out of the way. If my wife, sibling or parent were to be hit, I would jump to push them away. If my daughter were about to be hit, I would throw myself before the car. That is a promise. "

I was touched when i read it. It deserves a wider audience !

Monday, February 12, 2007

blogging ? my style ?

I am new to blogging.

i am a writer, but a very private person. Can i blog ? its taken me a while, tks tia again. Am very much a pen paper person - assumed that i will find it difficult to open up and share my world so publicly, so openly.

Its taken me days of reading other blogs, comments, to realise that exploring relationships need openings, space and time. I may definitely have problems revealing myself to people who know only some sides of me. How can one keep a personal space impersonal without getting too personal ? Can one edit thoughts ? Or is all writing for an audience ? Its going to take me a while.

Writing about twistntales is going to be easy. thats the dilema i was in. will this be personal space or store related ? do i have a life outside twistntales ? good question. i need to explore this now

Story ? Store ?

This is not a Store. It is a story. I have often said that. It truly is.

I am having so many of my customers, (now friends) tell me absolutely glowing things about us. Making us feel loved and wanted. I am glad to be part of this neighbourhood. Thank you once again. One of you who told us, that twistntales has changed your life.
And how.
Mothers who are short of time, deliberately avoid our lane when kids finish playgroup.
The 8.59pm moms and dads who are on an SOS attempt to get school projects completed for the next day at school.
Kids who come up to us (as young as 10year olds) asking if they can work with us – with a “and aunty, you don’t have to pay us”!! Students booking us for their summer jobs, a whole year in advance.
Yes, we have fans in all age groups….
Thank you for your support, understanding and warmth.
Again and again, we have had friends who have brought us coffee, food while we bring you books, books and more books, with warmth.

The stuff that you can snuggle to, the stuff that you can curl up with!

What a joy it has been for us! five years of identifying good books, better books, whats a nice read ? will Mr. Ramgopal Rao like this? What kids will like in Magic Tree House? Or Goosebumps? What Subroto Baghci has to say? who will relish reading that? And reviewing them, a complete joy … and to each one of us, from Tejal, to Geetanjali, to Tia … and atleast a score more, we are family. Each one with his/her own unique personality, choosing the book that they want to review, with love, affection and care. And seeing them grow, bonding with customers. Customers who come asking for them, not books! Their pizzas getting delivered here. Their music plays in “our” Store.

And for me ? A complete catharsis ! Coming out of the dumps, this is my creation for anandi. As beautiful, as untouched, as spontaneous, as bubbly but reaching fruition. No stillbirths here. I am in charge. I cant let it fail. Come what may, will stand upside down, will close in afternoons, will work on other options, will push business up, will cut discounts, will cut costs but will run .... This is the marathon, no sprints here. One day i hope nan will understand why her mom didn't give her as much attention as she needed as a baby. why she NEVER had a routine !

I saw "Stealing Christmas" couple of weeks back. Liked it. I miss TISS library and Eloor. Tiss lib had the magic of Stealing christmas in it. twistntales has to create that charm. And magic. And i'm glad to have tia/jahnavi right now creating that magic. Sustaining it is my challenge.