The loads we carry…..

As a mother, as a wife, as a professional, as a woman.

Years ago, when I was a young girl who had just started her first job, I was enjoying the money that suddenly gave a different of freedom. I could get anything I wanted and my limited money could buy. Not that before that I had to give up things, when I wanted or needed but now the thrill was different. Once I was travelling to a cousin’s place in a different country. It was my 1st time travelling alone and was another gemstone in my freedom crown. As a child I always felt that “adults” as so free. they could do anything they wanted and I was happy to see myself reaching that stage. I spend a lot of fun time with my cousin and her family. I would observe that she was busy all day with usual work of the house, responsibilities of the children and home. I would often wonder “how does she manage”? One particular day she had to juggle multiple things. When I offered help she was surprised and relieved. The day came and went but left an impression on me. The conditioning we women have is so deeply ingrained and even scary. She just lived her life knowing she has to “manage”. Any help that she gets is a stroke of luck.

As years passed I started seeing more and more of such women. I also started understanding that they always existed but maybe I was too young or immature to notice. My own mother being one such lady. All my aunts, cousins, sister-in laws, friends and even I was turning into one of those. After all that’s all I had learnt, it was all that I had seen. Yet again I need to say that I write this as a reflection, not to judge write and wrong, or label anyone.

As the years passed I started reading more about this topic. And then not too many years after my trip I happened to attend a talk by a renounced psychologist and education trainer of India, Dr Ravindran. He has a strong knowledge of what he was talking about and he is a brilliant orator. He must have spoken about hundreds of things that day but one in particular has stayed with me even after almost 2 decades. He was talking of parenting and role of mothers in it. He spoke of what he himself has termed as “the lizard syndrome” (please do not confuse this with the problems one associated with lizard poisoning). Let me try and explain what he had said. He said that women often act like lizards. A lizard that is on a wall often thinks that the wall is standing because the lizard is holding it up, its because of her efforts, it is her job to keep the wall up. Dr Ravindran said that we women put so much pressure on ourselves about daily chores almost as if, if 1 less chore is done in a day the whole household will collapse.

Today as I come close to my elder child’s 10th birthday I realize how much truth was these in the statements. I consider myself a progressive, free woman but deep in my heart I know that if my kids are not given a well balanced diet I feel guilty. If their homework is not finished on time, I feel bad. If they get hurt while playing, I feel responsible for not being around to prevent that. The only 1 word that crosses my mind is WHY?

The chosen parent….

The young girl is sitting under the dining table in her house. She has put a blanket on the table that hangs down its side making it her cozy abode. In it she sits with her lovely dolls. Busy pretending to be a mother to many young babies who maybe in the middle of a play date of just getting ready for school.

The scenario is not new to most of us. We have done this. Our sisters have. Our friends have. Daughters, nieces…… almost all the young girls I know have “played” like this. Not only have they played but they have also been encouraged to play like this. The loving, nurturing and maternal side of girls is almost taught. Its expected and conditioned.

This Little girl grows up. She has been educated well and made to be an “independent girl”. She works and takes her own decisions. She then gets married. life goes on. Once a child comes onto the picture somehow the whole conditioning that started some 25 odd years ago surfaces. She is the one who deems herself to be responsible for the little one. She is the primary caregiver, naturally and even emotionally. The most confusing part for this young mother is the confusing signals she gets. It messes with her way of life. Is she expected to be the independent woman? But how? Now suddenly she can’t even take small decisions herself, her life is pretty much dominated by a non-talking, non-moving yet adorable new person in her life. Or……

The new mother is dealing with a lot. She has changed, her body has changed, her status in the family and society has changed, her responsibilities have changed and increased in short life is different now. All the mothers reading this will be able to connect with what I am trying to say. Now to say that a woman has a child who is not the typically developing one. I cant even begin to imagine the whole way life changes now for that mother.

I feel the strongest thing we have as a mother is out instinct, our gut feeling. It most often, almost always gives us signals. We as mothers sometimes take those and sometimes ignore them. Sometimes these feelings are so scary that we choose to not face them, hoping that in due course of time these will vanish. A mother is often the first one to see, notice, observe and pick up anything and everything about her child. I often urge mothers to trust their gut and follow it. If something does not feel “okay” please please follow that up. Ask for help, get it checked, read, and please talk.

Having worked in the field for almost 2 decades now I can say that I have come across enough mothers who at some point have a feeling that borders the statement “I wish I had listened to my heart and looked for help.” I understand that feeling as a mother today. Way better than I did 10 years ago. I think becoming a mother has made me strong and weak at the same time. A mother of a child with special needs also has the same emotions, just her path is more difficult, her fears more scary, her goals different and her support is often missing.

This article is no scholarly piece of work offering help. It does not say whats good and bad. It does not say whats right or wrong. It does not chalk out a path for anyone. It is just an article that says “hats off” to the mothers. It says “thank you” to them and it is just urging each one of us to help, support and stand for mothers rather than judging. They are dealing with enough (more that enough actually) we don’t need to add to that list.

This is my personal salute to every mother who deals with odds to help her child lead a life that the child wants and the parent envisions for them.

Children and their forts…

I walk out into my bedroom one afternoon after sorting the kitchen post lunch and realize that all the pillows have vanished. I also could not see the sheets. I walked into the dining area and see that the chairs are gone. Something rings a bell, and I know I should walk into my kids bedroom. What I see shocks me, but yes after 5 seconds, a huge smile overcomes all my emotions and is plastered on my face. The whole room has been transformed. The bed and chairs (that have been pulled from the dining area) are now acting as pillars to hold up all the sheets. Inside this little area I see pillows thrown around, and a little lamp pulled in. Both my kids are lying down and reading books. Both of them have “designed” their corners. One side has dolls set out, and the other side has Star Wars books. 🙂

I am yet to come across an individual who has not made a small little fort of their own as a kid. Its amazing how math and science needs to be passed on from generation to generation through books, classes and lectures but this finds a way across generations. Almost like its been transferred through our DNA. Each generation manages to make it.

I recently started reading more about it. So apparently I am not the first person who has been intrigued by the children and the forts they build (surprise surprise). Apparently as a phenomenon this is being studied for a long time now. Studies have found that it is a physical, developmental and psychological need in a child to build his/her own fort. It provides a child with her own space. It helps her create something thereby instilling the feeling of independence and self reliance. It also gives them a sense of freedom and lays the foundation of decision making skill development. 

In todays times such forts are even more important. With Covid-19 imprisoning us in our homes the children feel the need for their own space. They need an area away from the authority of adults. They need the walls to demarcate themselves in the now often overcrowded house. The fact that the walls are made of cloth and thus flimsy does not take away the fact that they do provide a division from the outer world. The outer world is often a place that the child has no or little control over. Its what lies inside these fort walls that the child can structure and move as they want. It also thus provides them with a sense of power. 

In recent times many parents have reported that their children have built forts and ask parents to let them be. Mental health workers all over the world are requesting parents to not destroy or break (read fold away) such forts. They are performing many functions in making our little warriors fight and win the battles they are faced in todays times.

Think back of the times when we were children and how much fun these forts and the games we played inside them was. Thus irrespective of your child age please let them build forts. Let their forts stay. And enjoy as this is a symbol that your child is growing and learning to manage the world around himself/herself.

To the memory of the fort I used to build under my dining table in our home in Delhi.

WE SHALL OVERCOME…. FIGHTING FEAR THE TRADITIONAL WAY

Fear is defined as an unpleasant emotion caused by the belief that someone or something is dangerous, likely to cause pain or a threat. Fear are common in children. Studies have shown that over 40% of the children under the age of 12 have experienced fear. The reasons for fear maybe many but some common ones are fear of dark and fear of being left alone. Some other fears are fear of animals (often dogs or snakes), fear of something happening to parents and sadly fear of school.

Most often children nurture fears of the unknown and something that maybe loud and thus fearful for them. It is seen often that most children don’t or are unable to speak about the fears. Often the caretakers/parents understand the fear looking at the child’s behaviour. Behaviour patterns like constantly avoiding something, or refusing proximity to a person/place are observed. Physical symptoms like shivering, sweating and lips quivering are also seen commonly.

Fear is a known fact. Now as a parent or caretaker what can we do, what do we do and what should we do? I have seen this often as a child that parents ridicule the emotion of fear and are often caught saying “its nothing” to the child expecting the fear to vanish. Which in most cases it does not (surprise- surprise). Thus the best way to deal with fear is first accept that it is a real emotion for a child. It exists and thus needs intervention.

Traditionally there have been many practices that are followed to deal with fear. Some such practices can actually be backed by logic, science and research. Often the child finds comfort in knowing that his or her emotion is not going to be ridiculed. The emotion has to be treated as real. Another aspect that comforts children is knowing that others go through similar emotions. When we say others it includes their peers but even knowing that those whom the child considers or perceives as as powerful or an authority also has fears, like a parent or grandparent or a teacher. A story of when the parent was younger and how they fought against a fear often goes a long way. It not only helps the child know that fear can be overcome but also tells the child that its ok to be scared. Once the emotion has been accepted at that level it needs to be looked at in a step by step manner. Often the child needs support to fight her/his way through it. A parent or caregiver can actually become a part of the process of outlining a way to fight the “demons”. Making such plans together with the child reinforces the fact that the child is not alone in this fight against the fear. Support goes a long way. Another was of supporting is a tangible item that the child accepts as powerful. In many cases this maybe a symbol of religion that one follows. Examples a steel bangle (kada), a small locket (Taviz), or a prayer book kept on the bedside. Sometimes a chant is taught to children to repeat when they are fearful. Some other examples of such items can be a parents picture in the pocket, a parents piece of clothing that the child can sleep with like a handkerchief or a scarf. I have even heard of items like tooth of a tiger or nail of a lion. If we look at the above items they are a symbols of something “powerful”. Be it God, a parent or even an animal that is connected with fearlessness. All this makes so much sense at a certain level.

The stories that we share with children at such times also go a long way. The stories connect with children at multiple levels. It tells them that its a common feeling, many have gone through it, many are going through it and if they could overcome fear so can I thereby giving them hope to come out victorious.

One other method to deal with fear traditionally and common even now is to actually face the fear. In some cases head on and in some other cases step by step. Either ways this works based on the fact that once the fear becomes something that the child can overcome with support of an adult they can slowly be encouraged to fight alone too.

We all have been there at certain time in life. Fear is real. Fear is scary. Fear affects us in many many ways. But yes fear is conquerable.

(This article came up post a conversation with someone who is a teacher and guide. She is a brilliant mother and grandmother and we often speak of practices we follow and how they affect our parenting. Thank you Dr Kaura and I hope we keep having such conversations for many years to come)

I am glad my parents said “NO”…..

To me, to my sibling, to my demands, to my tantrums, to some of my ideas, to some (thankfully not all) of my randomness…………..

Being connected to the education and mental health profession for almost two decades now I can’t even begin to count the number of times I have heard and read “Children should not hear a no’. The word that our parents used with us has somehow lost its importance in many lives. It is a known fact that if used too often and too easily the word is rendered useless or at least less effective. It is also know that if used with anger this word can hamper development of an individual. Thus it has been proposed and accepted by many that instead of denying something to a child one must use the softer approach of reasoning.

In trying to learn from the new approaches of child rearing many parents started living by the second approach. But in the process of never saying no to our child the parents are becoming over protective. The children are becoming way too fragile for the “actual” world. And then there is a category of parents who are confused. And at no point I am blaming them the world does give confusing signals. They are thus living between two extreme scenarios and are hanging and swinging between the two like a pendulum. Saying no or not saying no. In this situation they surely pass on their confusion to the child who now has no idea which behaviour is acceptable and which needs to be modified.

I sometimes sit and wonder is “no” such a bad word????????

I will just look at this question from 1 perspective and see what all did “no” give me……..

1. It possibly saved my life a few times, when I was stopped from jumping off a dangerously high ladder or tree branch, and my mom shocked me into not taking the next step because she shouted a NO.
2. It possibly saved my brother from harmed, when I wanted to really- really hit him hard for being himself.
3. It may have even saved lives of some of my friends (Those in MS 19 will know this) whom we were pushing and our teacher shouted a NO.

In the long run I feel the NOs I heard in my growing up years helped me understand that everything I ask for or want will not happen. Life is not served to me on a silver platter and I do need to work for things. I also learnt that success and failure are both parts of life. As I matured more I understood that NO is not permanent and it is just a way of telling me to change for better. I also learnt how to bounce back after the so called set back of “NO”.

Thus I would like to just say this that NO if used all the time and without any reason with the sole purpose of using our authority over someone else is totally unacceptable. But to say “NO” never should not be an option. It needs to be used……

Judiciously

With a reason

And with options that are acceptable when a particular one is not.

I will also say this here that now I have 2 beautiful loving children myself and trust me they do hear NOs. Thus parents go by your gut. When a NO is required use it. But be careful about it. As I have learnt as a parent “choose your battles”.

Hope this helps. Happy parenting. We are all learning as we go and from each other all the times…… YES or NO??? 🙂

DIS-ABILITY to THIS-ABILITY …. my journey.

When we are little children we are asked “What do you want to become when you grow up?” often. I am not talking of these questions in Grade 9, 10, 11 or 12 when they come loaded with the weight of career choices, choice of academic stream and universities etc etc. I am talking of the times you ask a 5-6-7 years old what they want to become. The answers that come sometimes surprise, sometimes shock the adults but always make them smile. I always answered that question with the same single word answer “teacher”. And somehow I never grew out of that childhood dream of mine. I kept saying the same thing at each stage in life.

I grew up and my education took me on a path that helped me work with children with special needs. It helped me bring together my dream of being a teacher with my interest in mental health. I have worked in the field with students and their families. Each one has taught me.

These are just a few examples of the questions I have heard approximately over the last 2 decades, time and again. I somehow have never answered them. The questions may be different but my response to them has always been a smile. Amazingly the people who ask are also satisfied with that little smile. Its almost as if they were not really looking for an answer at all. Today I would like to use this forum to answer there questions…

Why do you work with such children?…. Children are children and I love working with them. Each child is different and for me its the same working with any child with any needs.

Is there someone in your family who has special needs?…. No not in the way it is described by laws laid down by associations and governments but yes we all have special needs. If I am encouraged to look at each person individually and not expect to fit them in preset moulds then why with children?

What made you decide to do this?….. Frankly nothing. I just wanted to work with children and this just happened and when it did I loved every second of it.

It must be so difficult? How do you manage?….. I do have my days when I find it tough. But frankly its like any other profession, I am trained I find it easy, you maybe trained to fly a plane and you find that easy :).

You must have a lot of patience to be able to do this…… I don’t know if I had it or not but whatever patience I had I surely have more. So I say this confidently that whatever may have been my level of patience its better after being in this line for almost 2 decades.

What if something happens to you while working with them?…… This question does not deserve an answer.

You are doing a nobel job and God will bless you…… God will bless everyone who does their work sincerely. I love being in that category after all we all need all the blessings we can get. Right?

My journey began in a way least expected. some classes in university changed me forever. I clearly remember a teacher on mine in Masters course who asked us how we felt when we come face to face with a person with a disability? I wrote a few points and moved on. Assignment was done. In the next lecture we were all taken to a special school and with no instructions asked to move around and do what we wanted to. That day I realized that I do not know how to even conduct myself. I don’t know what to say, what to not say, how to behave, am I to offer help, am I to complete their sentences or what. This experience left me with the feeling that I am the one who has a disability I am the one who actually feels at a loss or disabled in that sense. The so called individuals were comfortable in their skin and I was not.

That week was the turning point in my life. I decided that I wanted to convert my disability (in not knowing about how to behave or conduct myself in front of other people) into an ability. And thus started my quest of turning disability into This-ability to be myself in every situation. The journey continues. My teachers are life and all the people who I have worked with, the professionals, the children, and the parents. This article is a small attempt at expressing that when we do look at the mirror before labelling others our lives change, our perceptions change and we are ready for a change. A change that begins with us and only us. It begins within and then maybe just maybe will spread.

Personally I do not feel my major contribution is that I can teach someone who is in the autism spectrum or who finds it tough to read because of dyslexia. My contribution is that I know the child is a child first and his/her disability is only part of their life. I do not let the disability define every aspect of that child. I can look at the child as any other child. I love the child like I would any other, I will teach the child the values I will teach my children. Also I can proudly say that my own 2 children will not point fingers and make fun of some who don’t deserve it. This is what makes me proud and feel blessed.

I pray that each one of us are blessed in this way too. I pray that you all begin a journey too…… and Happy journey friends.

RESPECT…. to be taught or lived?

Respect is defined as a feeling of deep admiration for someone or something considered important, often the feeling is triggered by their abilities, what they may have done or their achievements. It conveys a sense of admiration for good and valuable qualities.

We often hear words like respect them, they are older. I maybe living my life on some similar sounding value system. As a child I didn’t not understand this completely but just lived by them. As I am growing older (and I would like to believe wiser) I am accepting the reality about respect. There are various reasons one may respect someone…..

1. They are older (deeply engrained in me and thus number 1 here. This one is only questioned when I am pushed to a limit).
2. The relation we share is one that must be respected (again deeply engrained in my psyche).
3. They are in a position that should be respected (more respect for position than person I feel).
4. Their education is such that they should be respected (hmmm)
5. They are respected by our loved ones
6. Their work (This i feel is possibly the most underrated one for those people who do the work in the background that actually helps us do so much more in life.) …….. and others.

I have also learnt to respect many because of imitation. Please don’t get me wrong. What I am trying to say here is that I respect an “x” person because as a child I saw my parents respect them and by imitating my parents I began respecting them. Even now when I am a parent myself and have spent 15 years of my professional life in work areas around education and mental health I feel this maybe the only way to actually teach one to respect. Beyond this it cant be “taught” and comes naturally.

In most cases all the reasons mentioned above work well. We go through respecting the people we are supposed to respect. But then there is a whole different category of people. These are people who I respect because I want to respect them. This kind of respect is somehow not connected to the person’s age, education, positing, relationship to us etc. It is usually triggered by an event and the person’s reaction to an event that is beyond the norm or beyond what is expected. Often the event is a small one in terms of time and space but it is huge in leaving a mark in our brain, heart and memory. These are the people who I feel truly command respect.This type of respect comes straight from the heart.

I would also like to share my observation….. The behaviour or reactions of these people that do compel us to actually respect them are not sporadic ones. Often they are also not learnt overnight. It is just the way these people are. It is just their regular behaviour and just how they live life. Thus such people also are respected for things larger and greater than one act or episode. They are respected for their overall behaviour, their value system, their principles in life. This proves multiple things to me

1. One cant really demand respect.
2. Its a person’s actions and behaviours that command respect.
3. The concept of respect must be taught to our children but actually whom and where they respect is something that they will decide on their own.
4. A person who is being respected doesn’t behave just with the purpose of being respected. They are living their life, respect happens.

Having shared some thoughts, let me share that research shows respect as a value that is looked at positively in all spheres of life and all parts of human civilization. We have proof of respect in parts of “pre-civilized” times also. In different countries of the world today respect is expressed in different ways. Some physical expressions of respect are

1. Lowering eyes
2. Shaking hands in a particular way
3. Not shaking hands in some cultures and certain relations
4. Not placing elbows on food table
5. In some places burping is a symbol of respect and in others its the opposite
6. Bowing low
7. Touching feet
8. Kissing the back of hand
9. In some cultures one cant start eating unless served.
10. In some cultures finishing food is a symbol that you enjoyed food and in others unless you leave a bite it shows that you did not enjoy your meal.

All in all respect is a part of our lives that we give and hope we get too. Respecting others is a virtue that in itself says a lot about the person who is respecting. Over all I can easily say that I hope to keep respecting and live my life in a way that I get respect of some. The biggest achievement for me will be to be respected by someone whom I respect myself.

Mother…. The 1st, last and everything in between

Usually the 1st word that we say in our life.

Often the last word we say in our life on earth.

And everything in between.

So many languages in the world. So many different words for “mother” (Amma, aji, mai, ma, mom, mumma, mummy, aai, ba) but the emotion is one. One of purity. Each mother does whatever best she deems possible for her children. Each child loves his/her mother with a pure selfless love. It is said to be the purest form of selfless love. It is said to be the love that transcends all hurdles of life. It stands all tests of time and still has the innocence of a new love.

We think of our mother when we get hurt, when we are excited about something, when we want to share something, when we are happy, when we need someone to lead us/ direct us, when we need a listening ear and of course when we need a shoulder to cry on. At every point in life, every high and low we think of our mothers.

A mother is someone who carries us and nurtures us for months and the gives birth to us. And thats when the life long journey of giving begins. She loves, gives, teaches and helps us blossom never once thinking of herself before us. We love and respect our mother.

Now there is a mother and there is the whole concept of mother. Mother is what your mom is to you. The concept of mother is connected to anyone who cares. The beautiful bit is that this concept could be used to describe any relationship including amongst many those of a father, sibling, aunty or uncle, teacher or guru. I have one mother. But many have mothered me through my life. I have older cousins, aunts, teachers and even bosses who have acted as a mother in portions of my life. I guess the major difference is that my mother has been a constant and the others have been time bound or at least situation bound.

Today on Mothers day I just wanted to pen down a special thank you note for my mother. She has been a person I learn from so much even now. She has taught me how to love, live, give, enjoy, care, grow, be truthful and hardworking, to be strong, to be sensitive, to accept life and to fight the wrong. Oh I forgot….. reading, writing, respecting, playing, enjoying, making, keeping and respecting friends, the bonds of relationships, cooking. And stitching, cleaning and everything else one need to learn to live an independent life. Also she has helped me develop the correct attitudes, the ability to forgive and forget, to move on, to learn lessons. And above all to stand up after I have fallen. This is just a small list of it all. I could go on and on. I don’t thing any gift or card or meal that I would make for her would be enough to thank her.

But you know what…. a few years ago I learnt what could possibly be the only way of saying thank you to our mothers. It is for us to be the mothers our children need.

The cycle needs to be completed. The circle has come all the way. We take and we give. We are loved and so we can love. To all of the dear dear mothers reading this, to your mothers who made you what you are today and to all your kids who are making you the mother they need. To the life long bond of love. To all the Mother’s…. Wish you a very Happy Mother’s day. (May 10th, 2020)

Storytelling…. so many layers… so many levels.

My last article was on storytelling. That was one very close to my heart as it was based on my childhood memories. Just now I read something on how story telling is used by 1st nation people (original inhabitants of Canada) as a tool for disciplining their children.

When I was a Masters students I was blessed to have some of the most brilliant minds teach me, but what taught us more I feel is the fact that the bodies that held those minds were also homes to beautiful, caring, loving and sensitive hearts. Our teachers/ professors were simply amazing. The beauty also was each one has a passion and how that passion was used to make each lesson more alive and realistic. One loved dance, another drama, one spoke of relationships, another use of language and thus each class was not a paper taught, it was an enlightening discussion enriched with real life examples.

The beauty is that each one of those professors spoke of some common practices that should play bigger roles in child rearing. Stories and storytelling were a part of that list. At that point almost 20 years ago I enjoyed my lessons. Today I am living those lessons through my children and in my daily parenting journey, and professionally.

As a child I loved stories. Today I know my children love them. For those of you who think with age the children’s interest in this decreases I believe otherwise. My elder one is 9 and still loves his bedtime stories. I am nearing 40 and if someone was to tell me 1 at bedtime I promise you I will sleep better that night. We as professionals working with children always say stories are a way to connect with our children. They help in language development. They help us keep our history alive. They help us connect with other individuals. Not too far back in history of human development it is said that stories are a tool to teach children.

Stories that teach children socially acceptable behaviours are called social stories. Today I learnt that the 1st people have a treasure of stories that have been with them for hundreds, maybe thousands of years. It is through these stories that they discipline their children. Apparently they never shout on the children. They never give time outs. They never scold their children. They just have stories for almost all aspects of life. Some mistakes are pretty predictable as children grow. Actually most are. For example we all know that once a child moves around they like to explore. As they grow they like to do this more and more independently. The 1st people have a story about a sea monster that is told to children from a very young age to make sure that when they run and play independently they stay away from the water (they don,t need to worry about swimming as much as the temperatures are often -40 degrees). These stories are used mostly as a preventive and thus all children are exposed to them. Sometimes though they maybe used as a corrective tool also when they are shared after an incident has occurred. Often these stories are accompanied with role plays or small acts that are done with humour as the main element. The children begin to see the effect of their behaviour in such scenarios and tend to make the amends. The best part is that this has been happening for many many years and generations after generations of those children have grown up and become adults leading lives like you and me, thus proving that our parents “yelling” actually did not make extra changes in our lives.

The only thing I will say after reading multiple such articles and reports is that I wish I can amend my ways and instead of increasing my heart rate work on helping my children make their life meaningful.

Take care everyone.

Signed off by a parent who learns daily.

Stories….. and Story tellers

Stories. Closed eyes, smelling a comfort around, hearing the whistle of the pressure cooker from a neighbours house, a soft voice narrating a story that has me completely engulfed in the emotion of the moment. Thats how I remember my story session from my childhood. The difference maybe in the fact that the voice sharing the story was not that of my mother, father or even a grandparent. It was of my dad’s eldest brother. Somehow when I look back to my childhood I feel he was the one who played the part of a grandparent in a childhood that was barren of that emotion. (Never met 3 of my grandparents and the 4th one passed away after her years of diabetes and paralysis when I was only 6). We called him bade papa and being the eldest in the family we could run to him for many things. I was a bit spoilt as I always felt for some reason I was his preferred one. By the time I was born, his children were in late teens and older. He pretty much was the only one who had time to spare for a talkative child. He also had the patience I must add to hear non stop chatter.

Having grown up in a house with parents, a younger sibling, and extended family (dads brothers family) one tends to have no distinction of calling some a part of nuclear family and some extended. They all were and are family. When mom dad were busy doing stuff that parents do like managing work and home, my school work, cooking, teaching, revising, values and many other things that we parents do now, he (bade papa) would come back from his work early evenings. He would freshen up and change into a white (always white) short kurta and pyjama and enjoy his evening cup of tea. He often would get daily updates from his kids and us. When everyone had gone off to do the things they had to or wanted to or needed to do I would spend time sitting with his listening to anything he would say.

Stories mean different things to different people. For some they need to be happily ever after. For others they need to have good and bad. For me stories need a flow of emotions and a story teller is one who makes it all come alive. Bade papa had a calm voice always. Rarely had I ever heard him raise it. In his soothing, soft voice I heard stories that ranged from those published in Readers Digest many many years ago, to stories of my ancestors and our family, to stories of the Mughals. The charm in the stories were that they way they were told they held my attention, and I was always craving for more. The way he managed to break a story into two parts, one that related facts and another that spoke of emotions involved. The action and effects of that action were both an integral part of the story sessions.

Once the story ended we started another very important step. The part where he asked me to think about it and analyze it. Of course at that time I was too young to understand all this, I just enjoyed that he wanted my opinion. It was in these discussions that we created a bond that was beyond an uncle n niece or if I may say so a parent n child. This is when he made me understand that one can respect another being irrespective of age. This is where I understood that different people look at same thing differently. This is when I learnt that it is ok to thing, be different and stand by what we feel is correct. He taught me the values of truth, acceptance, sharing and respect.

The story sessions with him are etched in my memory. he is physically not with us today and we miss him terribly but I will always cherish these moments together. He will always be my storyteller.

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  Always