Apataadiya

It is no secret that kids between the age of 1 and 5 learn at a break-neck speed.. You go on a business tour for 2-3 days and come back to find your toddler saying new words, showing new expressions/emotions, and adding a whole new layer of personality onto herself. There is a dialogue in Narcos where a rich-man-gone-bankrupt is asked how he lost his money and he says "Slowly at first. And then... all at once."... Well, what is true for Escobar, is also true for most parents.

In a world where Annie Baby learns something new every day, "Apataadiya" has been a constant.. We don't know what it means exactly.. It's neither Gujarati nor Tamil (the two languages she hears the most) but we know what the word conveys.. Apataadiya means Cease and Desist!.. When she shouts this word, she wants us to stop whatever it is that we're doing — this could be something as important as feeding her or changing the diaper or something as mundane as combing her hair.. Well, whatever it is.. It cant continue beyond an Apataadiya! We have not only accepted this term but have also adopted it.. Now even we use it as an in-house term for stopping whatever is happening.. I guess kids teach us almost as much as we teach them.. The quantum of exchange may vary from time to time - but by the end of it, the balance is achieved.

It's not just a term she utters, we adopt the tunes she hums, the games she invents and even the famed head-tilt she's devised to manipulate us into giving her what she wants.. We adopt and we run with it.. We keep using it till it becomes a normal part of our being.. The way we bite and grind a tooth filling till the time it feels like a part of us.. And then comes a stage when the child out-grows that term or mannerism and looks at us in disbelief every time we use it in front of her.. Her look sometimes seems like "Dad! Grow up!“... I guess it is part of every parent's destiny to end up like Kamal Haasan doing that monkey dance in Sadma while Sridevi chugs away, oblivious of her past..

Kahaan Gaye Woh?

Woh jinhe har khushi, har aansu me yaad kiya karte the..
Jinki baatein garv se, gairon se kiya karte the..
Kahaan gaye woh jinke number muh-zubaani yaad rakhte the?
Kahaan gaye woh jinhe tum kabhi dost bulaya karte the?

Kuch shaadiyon ke melon me bichchad gaye..
Kuch naye rishton ki kishton me katt gaye..
Kuch timezones ke daraaron me dhas gaye..
Kuch roz-marha ki zindagi me phas gaye..
Jo bach gaye woh aaj sirf notifications me milte hain..
993 ke friendlist me, woh bhi ek DP me khilte hain..

Kahaan gaye woh jinhe kabhi lahu ke rishton se badhkar samajhte the?
Kahaan gaye woh jo tumhaare dil ka haal sirf tumhaare 'hmmm' se parakhte the?
Kahaan gaye woh jinke aansu kabhi tumhe rulaya karte the?
Kahaan gaye woh jinhe tum kabhi dost bulaya karte the?

The one about Festivals

Disclaimer: This is a rant post. If you don't agree with the contents of this post then please feel free to scroll away. I am only as interested in knowing and understanding your views, as you are in knowing and understanding mine.

***

I am neither a die-hard animal rights activist, nor a born-again sustainability expert; neither an arm-chair liberal, nor a pseudo-secular. I am just an average guy who finds this commoditization, gamification and dehumanisation of festivals, horribly irritating and dangerous - an average guy who usually keeps these views to himself as he doesnt want to piss over someone else's parade or get into a mud-slinging match with the easily offended zealots.

If you have lived long enough, you'd probably agree that these days all festivals sound and smell the same - sound of blaring loudspeakers or fire crackers and smell of smoke emanating from the same. Be it Uttarayan, Diwali, Navratri or Holi - mindless cacophony is a common characteristic. I talk about Hindu festivals, not because I dont want to offend the 'minority communities', but because I am a Hindu and only know a thing or two about Hindu festivals. I am sure that the situation is just the same, if not worse, during festivals across most religions.

Every festival is becoming one more excuse for personal, community and political one-upmanship. Everyone wants a larger loudspeaker, louder firecracker and spend more than the next guy, house or lane. And in the midst of all this nonsense, a sizeable part of the population gets grinded in - the infants, old, infirm, the non-humans and the ones who just want some quietude.

I understand the importance of festivals - they feed the economy, bring us together as a family and community, and give us a much-desired break from work. But can't people be a little more civic, sensitive and considerate of everyone's situation? Cant people just think for a while before bursting loud firecrackers into the night and that too near hospitals? Cant people understand that washing the streets with animal blood is not a good idea?

***

After-thought: They can't and they wont. People only voice their minds over social media, they seldom change it there. I have pretty much resigned to the fate that festivals are only going to get worse with each passing year. They have become an occupational hazard of being 'human'.

Discomforting Replies

We live in an unfairly segmented and segregated world. There are grid lines running everywhere – lines cutting across the rich and the poor, young and old, ‘upper’ and ‘lower’ castes… and at a very fundamental level – man and woman. And each one of us is part of and (to various extent) party to this unfair world. Some bring down the average by continuing to do despicable things (and finding new ways of doing it) while others bring down the average by just being average – being part of the quiet masses that accept, normalize and thereby encourage the aforementioned dastardly acts.

The past month has been quite difficult. Every wall I scroll, every feed I read is full of women finally finding the courage to name and shame the perpetrators – men who have taken these women and their silence for granted; the privileged who have misused and abused their privileges. Most of these perpetrators are now buckling up to weather the storm; and weather it they will because most of them are too well-entrenched and well-connected to be uprooted or isolated. I read these articles, posts and tweets and feel equally complicit (if not more). Because although I may not have harassed, objectified or exploited women in public or private life, I have been a spectator – and largely, a mute spectator. And while there have been occasions where I have expressed my displeasure of the ‘dude-bro’ culture to the dudes and the bros; but these occasions have far too few to merit an exoneration. And I firmly believe that I am not an isolated example. I am sure that like me, there are many men out there who must be reading these allegations and thinking “wow! Thank God I’m not one of them”…. Just ask yourself in all honesty… Am I?

Have you seen something like this happen at home, office or public places and remained quiet? Have you seen the women of your house being cut short in a conversation, being told that ‘this is not an area of your expertise’, or ‘you will not understand these things’? Have you been part of a dude-bro gang at office where people have bragged about their latest exploits, name called a female colleague who did not respond to their not-so-subtle cues, attributed a female colleague’s success or promotion to her gender rather than her work? Ask yourself these questions and reply to yourself. Your replies are important to you, not me. I have enough uncomfortable replies of my own that I need to deal with and live with.

The past cannot be changed. But it should not be rationalized and accepted as well. The past needs to be acknowledged, evaluated and duly addressed so that it remains in the past and doesn’t get repeated in the future. Because, despite the outrage that is being expressed today, despite the wrongs that are being called out today, despite the courage that is being shown today; if the future doesn’t change. Then, shame on us.

The World Needs Changing

Most of us in our 20s have this urge to rebel against the system, to challenge the societal norms and to change the world. Somewhere down the road we realize that getting a college admission is difficult enough; changing jobs is difficult enough; finding love is difficult enough; and staying in love is even more so. The rebellious 20s and its steady demise is a well-documented phenomenon. What is not that well-documented is its resurgence after parenthood.

Parenting has been in existence since the birth of mankind. Still every generation believes that it can better this art; that it can learn from the mistakes that it sees around it (as well as the ones it must have endured) and ensure that the same are not repeated. We all want to be better parents – and we all believe that the only way to be better, is to be different. So, after the euphoria of childbirth wanes, we arm ourselves with a mental checklist of what we ought to do… and more importantly, what we ought not to do. So, suddenly, swaddling becomes old school, diapers become chic, mother-toddler classes become as important as college, and every (and I mean, e.v.e.r.y.) vaccination mentioned in the pediatrician's file becomes inevitable and crucial. We all cringe a little when we see our parents parenting our children – forgetting that they did a pretty good job (well, most of the time) with us in the first place.

In our quest to not repeat certain mistakes, we make some new ones. We reinvent certain wheels and rediscover certain fires (always the hard way, mind you). And through it all, we unduly stress ourselves by setting non-SMART goals for ourselves as parents – goals that are neither Specific, nor Measurable, Achievable, Result-oriented, or Time-bound. We will try and breast-feed for as long as humanly possible. We will vie (and save) to send our children to that snobbish uptown school that we loathed as a child. And on a personal note, we will try and keep the child away from screens for as long as possible.

The last one kind of fell through for us a few weeks back. One fine day, our Precious decided that she’s not going to have any food without entertainment. I remember of a time, not too long ago, when singing a song or reading a book with a funny accent did the trick; but the queen decided that she’ll not be so easily entertained. We tried and tried while the Cerelac went cold… and then, finally, out of sheer frustration, we did something that we never thought that we’d fall for – ChuChu TV. And while Precious now passively finishes her bowl, our conscience constantly gnaws at our innards. Now I don’t know about my better half, but I have made peace with this fact that screens are going to be an integral part of Precious’ life – one can only delay the inevitable, not prevent it altogether. Onto the next item on the list then. After all, the world needs changing.