Isn’t Santa for real?

 

For me the most endearing and enduring symbols of Christmas have been the Christmas tree, the stockings, Rudolph, and most of all, dear old Santa – plump and jovial, generous and kind. As a child, I enjoyed letting my imagination get the better of me and therefore readily believed in everything that seemed to make the world a more exotic place. So there was no doubt in my mind that Santa existed, as did fairies and elves, gnomes and witches. The only glitch was that he rarely visited our part of the world – we only read about him in books and got a glimpse of him on TV. That was another era – growing up in the seventies in India was quite different from what it is like today when Santa visits every mall, school and club carrying that huge bag of his, bursting with gifts.

As childhood gave way to teenage and then adulthood, logic and reason outpaced innocence. But the diehard romantic that I was, I never left my imagination far behind. I always knew that I would keep the legend of Santa Claus alive when I became a parent. And sure enough, I regaled both my little girls with heartwarming tales of fairies with their magic wands, of a fantastic world where nothing was impossible and of course – of good old Santa who came all the way from the North Pole with a special gift for every child in every home.

For as long as the magic of imagination and innocence worked, they would wake up every Christmas morning and excitedly look for Santa’s present. And I would be as excited as they were, delighted in their delight, warmed by their belief. As the years passed that conviction changed to a willing suspension of disbelief – my elder one had probably guessed the truth about who left the gifts there for them but she still played along for the sake of her younger sister. The years flew by and Santa eventually stopped visiting our home too.

Fast forward to modern times. I read about how some children were heartbroken and inconsolable upon suddenly learning one fine day that there really was no Santa. Wanting to spare their kids from this heartbreak, many parents were increasingly preferring to steer clear of the Santa myth altogether. My elder daughter, just out of her teens told me that most of her friends had never believed in Santa anyway, not even when they were little. When I quizzed my younger one (now a teenager) about it, she said she too hadn’t been taken in for too long. The truth had dawned on her even earlier than it had for her elder sister and that she too had kept playing along for a few years after that – for my sake. That was rather sweet of her, I think.

Sometime between now and when I was a little girl, the world has drastically changed. Reality has become virtual and we totally thrive in that deception, yet why are we no longer able to willingly suspend disbelief especially if it means adding an innocent joy to our life? Why is it all about being precise and accurate to the point of missing the point altogether? Why should the greeting switch from Merry Christmas to Happy Holidays depending on who you are saying it to?

Christmas to me will forever mean a special warmth in the cold December air, and Santa – the harbinger of joy and cheer. Reason, logic, faith and belief notwithstanding! I guess a part of me has never grown up – and am I glad about that!

New Year Resolutions – A Trip Down Memory Lane

 

New Year Resolutions are made only to be broken – so suggests my experience of more than four decades. Yet every 31st, most of us end up making one. It is perhaps the sheer exuberance of the atmosphere and the spirit of the fresh New Year standing at our doorstep, which infuses optimism into our already lightheaded (dare I say tipsy?) minds that we decide to give ourselves one more chance towards self enhancement. Before I take the “plunge” for the coming year, let me embark on a journey back in time and reminisce some of my previous New Year Resolutions and how long it was until they were abandoned.

The earliest resolution made by yours truly was as a determined ten year old sporting long waist length hair. My mother would lovingly oil and braid my hair in two plaits. I detested the oil but nothing would convince her otherwise. So I decided to take matters literally in my own hands by triumphantly announcing to mommy dear, one chilly New Year’s Eve that henceforth I would braid my own hair. She readily agreed, casting a very condescending look at me. My valiant, determined efforts continued for two whole days before the daily morning struggle cost me a missed school bus and a host of subsequent problems. Finally better (or worse) sense prevailed and mommy dear smiled knowingly as I reverted to my well oiled plaits!

My next resolution was as a just turned thirteen dreamy teenager. My parents had gifted me the book, ‘Diary of Anne Frank’ for my birthday. So swept off my feet was I after reading it , that I wanted to emulate her and thus sprang the resolution to maintain a diary. My crazy adolescent brains fantasised how one day my diary would win the Booker and make me famous. “Dream big! Nothing’s impossible – that’s what all great visionaries vouch for”, my dreamy mind told my even dreamier heart as I religiously poured out each day’s happenings and thoughts for as long as I could. As is inevitable, the dreaminess faded and gave way to practical reality and other worldly tensions (read studies) took much of my time and energies. Gradually the frequency of my diary writing diminished, much like all the exaggerated fantasies of ever bagging the Booker receded into the realm of impossibility.

There came many more after that, generated by an ever idealistic and optimistic mind – will never use plastic bags, will eat only healthy food and will keep mind and body fit by regular exercise and even meditation!! While the optimism continues, the resolutions have, sooner or later, met with the same fate as their predecessors.

Coming to the present, I certainly owe it to the spirit of the New Year and all that it symbolises, to make a fresh resolution. Let’s begin with learning to confront my fears – my phobia for driving for example and get that driving license this summer. But there is also a resolution on a wiser, more philosophical level – one that I have arrived at after four decades of experience. Strive to create happiness in my everyday life rather than trying to find it in imagined situations. Stay positive, love myself and be content with knowing what limitations I can and cannot transcend.

It’s just the first step but I really want this one to be for keeps!

The hijab wearing Barbie – a symbol of oppression or an expression of a liberated mind?

 

I chanced upon a Facebook post today about the launch of a hijab wearing Barbie and needless to say it has unleashed a barrage of animated responses. I avoid getting into any kind of Twitter or FB wars but the arguments sparked a debate in my mind as well.

Was the new Barbie glorifying what is widely believed to be a symbol of oppression? Or does it instead stand for values of acceptance and tolerance? Can we say with conviction that all women wearing the hijab are oppressed? Is liberation defined by what we wear or by the maturity of thoughts in our mind?

This could work both ways. It’s actually another example of how quickly we fall prey to stereotypes – external appearances have always determined how we perceive a person. This superficial evaluation only succeeds in misleading us and more often than not, in clouding our judgement. Yet we never learn.

We simply cannot assume that all women wearing the hijab are oppressed. It could be that they feel more comfortable wearing one as that may be the effect of the culture they have grown up in. If it is a choice that they have made for themselves, we must respect their freedom to exercise it without labelling them as regressive. Even if that choice has been the outcome of their upbringing, they are totally within their rights to adhere to a dress code they are familiar with.

But as I said it needs to work both ways if we want to create an atmosphere of harmony and empowerment. As long as the women wearing a hijab do not impose the same on their daughters and not even for a moment believe that their dress code is the only way that defines grace and dignity in a woman, they are completely justified in their choice.

Why not perceive the hijab as just a fabric covering the head – why must we classify a woman who wears it (or doesn’t) into a certain category?  Neither should the hijab stand for oppression nor should it be glorified as a measure of a woman’s decency or character. Neither should a hijab wearing woman be dismissed as submissive nor should a conventionally or unconventionally dressed woman be labelled as “immodest” or “provocative”. Why are we reducing a woman merely to the clothes she wears?

If we want true empowerment for women, it’s also we women who need to liberate ourselves from the temptation to assume. And why are we only singling out the hijab? What about the countless other stereotypes that abound about women, by women, among women? Even today in most of the Oriental cultures a “good” girl is one who knows how to cook and make perfectly round chapattis and any new bride that deviates from this is given a hard time by her own kind.

Leave the hijab wearing Barbie alone – let her attire be an example of our diversity as a race, an expression of our freedom to choose and of our liberated minds that are open and secular.

My rendezvous with a celestial spectacle

 

The thought of having been witness to a play of light and shadow at such a grand cosmic level is at once thrilling, awe-inspiring and humbling. What can be more astounding than to have celestial bodies, millions of kilometers apart demonstrate a simple principle just by conforming to basic rules of physics!

I think this is what is so truly fascinating about eclipses – they spur the imagination, inspire wonder and make us feel connected in an uncanny, bizarre way with the workings of the universe. We get to experience live the movement of the earth and the moon – it gives us a feeling of being completely in tune with the rhythm of the universe albeit for a brief span of time.

Although the moon obscuring the sun in totality would be one of the most breathtakingly beautiful sights to behold, I found myself strangely resigned at the prospect of watching the partial phenomenon. And it did not diminish any of the marvel or the awe – the excitement was palpable in each and every person present there, as people from diverse walks of life, of every hue and colour gathered in unbridled enthusiasm and waited patiently for their turn to use the special telescope.

Which brings me to another huge reason to absolutely love eclipses. In our modern world such phenomena bring people together like little else can as we unite with the common aim of being a spectator to a rare and magnificent occurrence. Few can remain unmoved and unaffected as our planet, star and satellite align themselves to create such a magical effect. Some perceive it as a divine miracle and others as a splendid astronomical event but no one can escape the excitement it triggers.

If only there were more occasions when humanity could unite under a common cause – bound by a compelling desire to discover, understand and experience nature in all her enigma and majesty – it might just make us a more humble and tolerant species.

On that thought – eagerly awaiting my next rendezvous!

A link lost forever

 

She was my link to a fascinating time in my country’s history. She had been a witness to the freedom struggle, and to my pride and delight, also a humble participant in it. That connected me irrevocably to a glorious era of great men and women who selflessly gave their all to win independence for our land. She had seen it all, and through her, I felt that I had been a witness to it too. Her vivid descriptions would stir my imagination and her stories of the pre-1947 days would never fail to intrigue me, no matter how many times she narrated them. I would take great pride in telling my classmates that my grandmother had met many of the heroes of the independence struggle that most had only read about in textbooks.

I went through a whole range of emotions that I felt for her at different stages of my life – the awe as a young child turned into a slight wariness of her strict discipline and then the proverbial generation gap as a teenager. As an adult, I may not have agreed with her on most topics but I could never discount her opinion – she always made me stop and think. I would always know whether or not she would approve of a situation and anticipating her reaction would make me smile. But what remained unchanged were the enthralling narrations of a bygone age that would spill into politics, philosophy, psychology, current affairs and what have you.

Its therefore more than a personal loss that I feel today. It’s as if I have lost a slice of history – a valuable connection with a celebrated past. Although the direct link is unfortunately no more, her voice will forever remain strong in my memories as will the most precious takeaway of our times together – an endearing interest in people and a compelling passion to share and discuss everything under the sun.

R.I.P. Aaji.

Is the internet a bane to good parenting?

 

Defining what’s right and what’s not is not always as simple as it sounds. There are myriad layers of reality and situations depending on individuals, their capabilities, interpretations and perspectives. Therefore evaluating a person or situation based purely on popular notions may not often be the best way to judge either.

In our modern world, one of the biggest challenges to parenting has been posed by the ubiquitous internet – the great web of information that has irreversibly altered the way we see our world. While it comes with a plethora of advantages and conveniences there are very real dangers that lurk just beneath that can threaten the safety and wellbeing of our children, not to mention expose them to content that is ugly and inappropriate for their age. Much has been rehashed about this topic by alarmed parents who would do all they can to steer their kids away from the potential dangers and improper influences that the virtual world could expose them to, and understandably so.

So what is my stand on this topic – as a mother of two young girls – one just entering her teens and the other on the threshold of adulthood? While I am all for safeguarding the privacy and wellbeing of the child on the internet, do I really support constant policing of each and every online activity that my child engages in? Are we being too simplistic when we blame the internet for spoiling our children? And are we being too judgmental when we label parents and children as being too free, based on what they watch on the internet?

Technology is going to outpace us and will continue to spring new surprises on every generation of parents and children. These are challenges that will never cease and parenting will forever reel under the stress of the tug of war between the old and the new. We cannot really shut the doors of technology on our children nor is it possible to monitor every browsing activity especially when it comes to older children – those in their late teens. Forbidding them from watching shows that we believe are inappropriate would only serve, in my opinion, to heighten their curiosity and may even encourage them to be furtive about it.

What can come to our rescue are solid values and good old trust. Parenting is an ongoing process – it is all about keeping communication channels open, it is all about discussions, about reading together, having fun together and letting your children know that no matter what, you will stand by them. It is also about allowing them to make choices as they grow older, about respecting their privacy (within reasonable limits of course) and about letting them take responsibility for their decisions (again in moderation). It is about being vigilant to their mood swings and in tune with the slightest changes in their behaviour. Most of all it is about instinct –that gut feeling that tells you more about your child than any psychological theories can.

It is these values that have held me in decent stead (or so I believe) as a parent – and a working one at that. With spending so many hours away from home, supervising the internet has never been an option. Neither has blocking the children from using it. So do I come in the category of parents that have raised children with too much freedom? And would it be correct to assume that children who have been raised without strict adult controls would necessarily go astray and lose all focus about their future?

I think it is time we let go of superficial assumptions of morality and understand that the root cause of the problem is not the technology but the lack of connection, communication and a sound value system. Once these have been put in place, I am convinced that no force in the universe can shake can shake that foundation.

Again – its only a gut feeling ….

 

Temples of learning or cradles of treason?

 

My take on the JNU row in India

Patriotism has become a complicated word today. In much the same way as nationalism has become an outdated concept – neither intellectual nor glamorous enough to be espoused by a certain category of scholars and academia. Under the garb of high-flown statements and using the rhetoric of democracy, what is being challenged is our very nationhood and its sovereignty.

It’s a shame that some of our students and universities take pride in asserting a brand of freedom of expression that reeks of betrayal and sows seeds of discord. Shouting anti-national slogans and showing solidarity with those convicted of terrorism by the Supreme Court of the land is certainly not the way to conduct “debates” and hold “cultural” gatherings. Democracy gives you the right to speak against the government but not against the country. Voices raised in dissent can be tolerated but not voices that wish to destroy the very soil that nurtured them. And if this sounds like emotional drama – so be it. Sentimental patriots are far better for our country than ruthless “intellectuals” spewing hatred without a shred of remorse or sensitivity.

I do not see any two ways about this. All freedom comes with a sense of responsibility and is bound by ideological limitations that cannot be violated. Our constitution grants us the right to express and question but never to breach the threshold that can threaten the integrity of our nation. The constitution was formed not only to protect the rights of the individual but also to safeguard the honour of our country as a whole. Any infringement to that honour amounts to treason and I believe that measures to curb such activity are totally justified.

No university in the world would allow anti-national uprisings within its precincts – and that too in the name of democracy. And here we are, reluctant to hoist the tricolor at our temples of learning, as the flag would represent conflicting ideas to confused minds – while being a symbol of pride towards our motherland, it would also be a mute witness to the mindless agitations carried out to defile it.

Nothing can be simpler than this – no ideals, principles, doctrines or religions supersede the country and her integrity. Any individuals who want to challenge this cannot live on this soil. By all means go ahead and debate about the concept of capital punishment. But those insensitively supporting convicted terrorists and swearing to destroy the motherland do not deserve to be citizens of this country.

Honestly, I don’t understand what the argument is all about – am glad my simple definition works for me.