The perfect candle

 When I was growing up, we used to have scheduled power outages. The source of electricity was hydro electric power, so if we didn't get enough rain in a year, then the government would issue a scheduled power cut for few months. This means every neighborhood in the state would lose power for 30 minutes at specific times of the day in the evening. So every week we would know ahead of time that we will lose power from say 6 to 6:30, the next week would be 6:30-7:00 and so on. 

I am not sure how the adults felt about this, but for us kids this was one of the most fun times of the year. When the power goes out, children pour out of their houses leaving homework and chores behind. Adults also come out and sit in the veranda and talk to each other. Some kids play cricket on the street where searching for the ball takes more time than the actual playing. My favorite was hide and seek in the dark or tag. 

However, the Indian education system sometimes didn't give us the luxury of playing outside every single day. Often, we used to have too much HW or a test the next day. So my friends and I will gather our books, meet in one house and study under the candle light. 

Whenever I light a candle now, the smell of the match stick striking the box takes me to the sweet innocence of childhood. We loved that the grown ups thought that we were studying.  “Study” was an exaggeration, a euphemism for giggling, sharing stories and pretending to study under the candle light. I have spent hours in my childhood playing with candles, melting the wax, making a puddle, making patterns on our palms as we move the hand over the candle. These days you get coloring books for zen doodles, we did it the painful hard way of carbon lining our palms and boasting about who is braver and has better designs. All of this while pretending to do algebra or chemistry. I have a love relationship with candles as it takes me back to the days of power outages where a single candle was a source of fun, excitement and laughter. It was a time to relax, chill with my friends.

So, as an adult I sometimes light a candle during dinner time and without realizing would start playing with the wax and the candle. It is a habit I cannot resist and enjoy. Since I do it, my kids join in. When they were little, they were curious, afraid of the heat and the candle, but over time it got normalized. My 7 year old knows how to safely handle a matchbox, light a candle with my supervision. I remember their squeals of laughter when they first tried to touch the hot wax, looking at me for confirmation that it will not hurt. When it comes to candle, I am a very free spirited mother, I explain, “it's fire, it is dangerous, it is hot and it is going to hurt, but not a lot...never ever touch the white yellow of the wick, other than that...it's mostly fun” They quickly learn their boundaries and get smart about what is fun and what is not. 

Needless to say, without me realizing it, my children also have a love relationship with candles. When my son was 2 years old, he loved candles so much that he wanted a candle shaped cake for his birthday and only wanted candles as presents! Now he is making candles like the ones below!

Last year my 7 year old entered a literature contest and the topic was “Accepting imperfection”. He told me, “I am going to write a story about Tooki the candle”. I had my doubts about how  accepting imperfection had anything to do with a candle. Three days later he showed me the story and I was pleasantly surprised how the used the topic and converted it into a candle story. Enjoy a second grader's perspective of accepting imperfection! My favorite part of the story his how his mother made him toast on the first day of school with a one carved into it. You could say the story is inspired by real life events :)

Here is the link to his story - The perfect Candle

Check your pockets!

 My father, your grandfather/Thatha  grew up in a small village in South India. It was so small and rural that the village only had an elementary school. My guess is in the 1950s in that part of the world, not all children got an education beyond the basics of reading and writing. Most children stopped education around middle school and helped the family or got married...but not your thatha. 

He was excellent in studies and did not care much about being a farmer/business. So he went to high school in the city nearby. He had to walk 10 kms everyday to get to school. He would wake up early in the morning and leave for school. Thatha gives credit to these lonely long walks for his very strong math skills as he would try to do all the math problems in his head as he was walking to to and from school. Anyway the story is not about how awesome thatha is...which we all know he is...but about the love and bond between a mother and son. 

Thatha’s family lived in austere conditions, which was the norm in his village at the time. He owned 2 shirts and pants - one to wear and the other had  to be washed every day so that it would be clean for the next day. On most days, he had a breakfast of steaming hot idlis before he left for school and his mother packed him lunch. After school, he would come back to work in the grocery store his parents owned, have dinner and go to bed on the open terrace. Rinse and repeat every single school day, except...

One day, Ayyamma, my grandmother, your great grandmother would tell Thatha as he was leaving for school -” Check your pockets, take good care of things in your pockets, don't let anything fall out...” When Thatha heard this remark from his mother, it confused him as he was a very responsible boy and took care of his things. He didn't understand why she was asking him to check his pockets as he never carried anything in them but did not dare question her in front of his father as Thatha was scared of speaking in front of his father.

 He walked a few steps from home and checked his pocket and realized his pockets were not empty. To his delight, there was a five Rupee note. There were no explanations, no big hugs or outward showing of emotion - just a simple " Check your pockets" statement from his mother. But thatha knew what she meant. She did not have to spell out the love he had for him. Thatha knew that Ayyamma had saved her hard earned money and wanted to give her son a little treat! But she didn't want to say/act like she was giving him money to buy treats in case his father found out or other children felt it was favoritism. It was a code between a mother and a son...a mother, like any other who wanted to give and do so much for her children, but didn't have the resources for it. But she still did it in her own way - squirreling away one rupee at a time and hiding it in his pocket so that thatha could have a little money to spend on whatever he wanted. Even though the family may have many real needs, Ayyamma chose to use her money to delight her son!

Thatha’s luxury was - you guessed it right - snacks!! Street snacks!! Now you know the love for food you have is in your genes :) Vendors sell vada and other treats like fresh warm jilebi  in the street and thatha would splurge on some snacks with this money. 

When I heard this story as a child, I fell in love with it! Just like you, I could not relate to the story but I saw thatha’s eyes dancing with glee at the mention of the vada, the surprise on his face when he found the money the first time and the secret code ever since between the two of them. Of all the fantastic stories from his childhood, this one was always my favorite!

So a few years ago, when Thatha visited me in the US for the first time , as he was leaving the US to fly back home, I slipped a 100$ bill into Thatha’s pocket. Then just before he went into the airport security, I told him - “ Check your pockets, take good care of things in your pocket, don't let anything fall out...” Thatha gave me a quizzical look at the strange choice of parting words but he knew , he knew what I was saying...he knew I was doing the same like his mother after all these years...

Now it is a code between us that is sort of like a family joke. When he leaves for the airport after visiting me, we both laugh when I ask him to check his pockets and we discuss what he could buy in the duty free over his layover. 

The thing is I have never told you this story...you don't know the secret code between Ayyamma and thatha or the one between me and my father. So it is very interesting to me what happened this week...

Every time I go on a business trip, you give me a card or some chocolates. But this week you went overboard and gave me a care package for every day of my trip.

On Monday, I got a card with a hand made book mark and chocolates. On Tuesday I got an “ essential kit” care package. The essential kit included hair ties, bands, ruler, lollipops and a 10$ note! I asked you why you packed me money  and you said -” Use it in case of emergency, but if there are no emergencies, you can use it for a drink as I am sure you had a very long day” . The moment you said it , the thought that came to my mind was Ayyamma giving money to Thatha with no explanation for a little treat, and here you are...more than 50 years later, giving me a little bit of your money to splurge on my trip! I know in our case the roles have reversed just like it did with me and my father, but it is very nice to know that someone is looking out for you and wants you to have a little fun.

Do you think Ayyamma would approve of your care package? I think yes definitely yes. 100% yes...she may not agree with the choice of a ruler or using the money to have a dink after a long day...maybe she would approve if I bought some tacos!! Yes, I think tacos are a good idea! What do you think?

Summer reading for a 5th grader

She climbed on to the bed, snuggled next to me and said - “ They found a noose in the locker room. I am scared. Why are people so mean?” I sighed and said -”Well, people are sometimes mean, very very mean...” We chatted for a little while about the topic at hand - lynching and racism.  As she lays next to me quietly in her thoughts, I contemplate if I should talk about the violence against Asians that happened recently. I cannot bring myself to do it, I just want to snuggle and cocoon her from everything wrong with the world... I know it is a foolish thought, but I still decide that the topic is for another day. 

But it made me wonder, are most 5th graders ready for this kind of conversation? Are they ready to talk about grief, divorce, lynching, police brutality, parents not accepting queers. Apparently the school thinks they are ready for it...When I looked at the summer reading list for rising 5th graders - I felt like a completely ignorant out of touch parent.

Out of touch parent who thinks her child is above everyone else - I am self aware of that aspect of me...so that one doesn't surprise me as much as the ignorant part. When I was a 10 year old, I was a voracious reader. The books I read were mostly fiction, they were fun adventures of other children, detectives, fantasy land, super powers, magic, mysteries and the occasional horror. But when I looked at my 10 year old’s summer reading list -  I felt so out of touch with children’s books because I had not read a single one of them.

The first book I picked from the list was - “The remarkable journey of Coyote Sunrise” by Dan Gemeinhart. I listened to half of the book as I was driving to work and back...it is an excellent audio book and the narrator does an amazing job, but I just couldn’t stand the slow pace of the audio book. So I started reading the book just so that I don't have to wait for a car ride. The book is that good!

It is a story of a 12 year old and her father on a journey. It has all the elements from my childhood books -  kid on an adventure, cliffhangers(maybe way too many...), super fun, humor, totally unreasonable things kids want to do but adults don't let them do, friendship, pets.  I cheered Coyote on the ridiculous drive at the end to her hometown just like a child would do but as an adult I rolled my eyes at the absurdity/over the top nature of it. 

Even though this book has elements similar to the ones I would have read as a child, this book is also completely different in how it handles big emotions and grief. There is no tip toeing around the issue of Coyote’s family’s tragedy. Tears streamed my cheeks as I read the last few chapters and I didn't even try to stifle them. I wanted to weep with Coyote and her loss. I was cheering for her and crying at the same time. The book briefly talks about domestic violence too. 

Even Though the book is one of the best I have read in recent memory, thoughts raced through my mind as I read it - Can my 10 year old handle the big emotions, maybe she is totally fine and I am the sensitive one? I don't think she has any idea about domestic violence, or am I the naive ignorant parent who has no clue about the exposure their child has. I honestly don’t know. Maybe this should be required reading for parents to analyze the maturity of their children, maybe I am over analyzing a simple book...actually I am sure I am over thinking this...

If I think this book is a lot for my emotionally mature child, then what about the 5th graders? Well, the book is meant for kids and it is part of the official summer reading list from school. It means most of the 10 year olds are reading it. I guess the point is for the children to read and understand grief, feel the emotions and maybe reach out to the adults? I don't know...I can only hope that other parents are reading the book before the children are reading them and preparing themselves for the conversations. Anyway, I fell in love with the characters and this book and I hope my daughter does too!

The second book I picked for my reading and the first one my daughter chose to read from the list is “Blended” by Sharon M Draper.  This book gets deep into the topic of divorce, race and identity crisis being blended (the kid in the book has a white mother and a black father). I really liked how the book talked from the perspective of a child torn between two parents who loved her but not each other.

I think my daughter picked the book as she is blended and she is more aware about racism and divorce. It was certainly interesting to read the book and wonder how my child would interpret this book. For example, in the book, the mom asks the child which race box she checks in her school test - what does she identify as - a white or a black. As I read it, I wondered, what would my child choose - Chinese American or Indian American? 

As I read this book, I wondered - is this what summer reading for children has come to? Mix a bunch of social issues into one book , package it with some slushies and slimes and let them swallow the pill? Who came up with this list for 5th grade?

 My daughter finished the book in a few hours and loved it...we had some good conversations and I could see how she feels more empathy towards a child in her class whose parents recently divorced. She couldn’t believe that the character and her black friend were asked to leave a fancy store and asked me - “ That’s just fiction, that surely doesn't happen in real life, does it?” That is when I realized that whoever came up with the summer list knew what they were doing...and I need to accept that my baby may be ready for all these topics whether I think she is ready or not...

The next book on my list is "A Night Divided" by Jennifer A. Nielsen and I cant wait to discuss my 5th grader! Also, I am so excited that I found this whole genre of books that I have seemed to missed in my childhood!

Does Martial arts make me a better person...Hmmm...maybe

 For our karate test, we have to write an essay as part of the curriculum. The topic is "why does Martial arts make you a better person?"

My 10y old wrote this really cute nice essay about how it teaches her discipline, makes her stronger and more confident. And here is mine...if anything it is mostly true except maybe the part of the trophy wife :)

Here it goes...

I am an awesome parent, cool engineer, best daughter, trophy wife, accountable boss, pretty decent cook. You may wonder why I am being all narcissistic...well it's because even though I am good at many things, I am bad at karate, I mean the kind who almost passes the test but barely passes the test. And that is exactly why karate makes me a better person.

When we are children, we try many things, as years go by we figure out what we are good at and what comes naturally to us. I love math and logic, it comes easily to me, numbers make sense and work is fun! But Karate does not come easy to me, I struggle. When we practice at home and I cannot figure out a combination, my daughter says - “ Amma, go with the flow, it has to be the right hand punching for the combination to make sense”. Instead, I overthink...is the right hand on top, is the left leg going back...I get frustrated...but then I remember that we are all like this at one thing or another. I take a deep breath, sometimes even close my eyes to go with the flow. I try my best not to overthink but let my practice and muscle memory take me through the combination. Karate makes me a better person because it helps me let go of my overthinking brain and get out of my comfort zone.

So we have established that I am not a natural at karate. Did you know that I also hate it...sometimes. I honestly like the theory part of karate like the forms, the combinations. Forms are my favorite, they are super cool and I enjoy synchronizing with my daughter. Sometimes I practice the same form over and over again till I get so tired that I cannot even take another step. However I am not a big fan of sparring and grappling. I am actually scared to spar and grapple with teenage kids. I think they see me as this adult figure and come at me with vengeance. So you may wonder why is she paying money, spending time just to get beaten up? Well, that is life, isn’t it...if you want to be good at anything - whether it is relationships or work - there are parts we enjoy and parts we are scared of or detest. Karate makes me a better person - because it teaches me to “embrace the suck”. Even though I try to stay away from some teens, I still put myself out there. I still get punched, kicked and pinned down, it hurts, but I learn my technique and do my best.

I usually go to karate on Monday after a long day. As I enter the dojo for my class, I am anything but fun. But in the next 45 minutes something magical happens - I move, punch, kick, learn, laugh, roll my eyes!  Karate class resets my brain in the best way possible and when I leave the dojo I am stronger and happier! Karate makes me a better person because it reminds me that life is fun!

Can I come, Amma?

 I have a habit of sneaking out before sunrise to do stuff on weekends or during vacation. They are almost always unplanned, they are also simple, uncomplicated things like walking in a wooded area, going for a run or most of the time finding a quite spot for some yoga. I love the time that is 30 minutes before sunrise when there is actually light, but not quite...I guess twilight :) The normally super crowded places like a beach in Cancun or Acadia in one of it most touristy spots are devoid of people and I really enjoy the solitude that comes in the early morning.

My husband knows about this very well and I leave a text message explaining where I have driven away and when to expect me back. Lately the kids have started noticing my morning escapades.  During one of our camping trips, I was trying my best to be quiet, getting out of the tent, but my daughter asked me wide eyed -"Can I come, Amma?" 

We drive to a coffee shop, get a drink for both of us and then head to the lake beside our campsite. We are the only people there besides some ducks. We walk, chat, play for sometime and I explain to her that it is my quiet time. She nods and plays in the play park while I do what I do. She loves it so much that she wants to do this more often. Her brother hears about the escapade and now obviously wants to be part of this!

I am torn...Its my me time...not the time to be bombarded with questions such as - why can ducks swim so well, but chickens don't? Why can adults drink what they want, but kids can't (adults can drink coffee, but kids can only drink water) etc...and don't get me started on the music I need to listen as soon as I wake up!

But at the same time, how can I say no to the "Can I come?" So I make some rules that are hard to follow. 

Rule 1 - Leave the house in 5 minutes after I wake you. 

Rule 2 - You will dress appropriately based on the weather and not what you want to wear. This rule makes sense if you know my kids and their dress choices.

Rule 3 - No one talks to me when I am doing yoga unless there is a real emergency.

I figure out that the first rule is enough to keep them away. I definitely underestimated my children's ability to wake up, grab a jacket, put on shoes and ready to go. 

This year we had so much rain that the days I can do these quick escapades are hard to come by. So I started doing it during the week day during the summer. My kids follow me and we have created a pattern. I do the same yoga routine as it is the only thing downloaded on my phone. My son plays in the sand the whole time. My daughter reads for some time on the picnic table and then she starts singing...I mean loud singing. The lyrics are her own, the tune is her own and we all are in our own zone.

 I know in a few years there won't be any more - "Can I come, Amma?" They will be too old to adhere to my silly made up rules. They will be too old to not do anything and just be content playing in the sand by my side. My daughter will one day stop singing her own lyrics loudly by the docks...but I am always ready and eager for the "Can I come, Amma?" question. 

Yes, Yes and YES....you can always come...

Morning talks

 This is my usual morning routine for the last 10 years- Wake up before the alarm goes off at 4:40am usually by 5 minutes, make a coffee and then call Amma. I don't wake up every single day before the alarm, sometimes I sleep in, sometimes I wake up and work for an hour before I venture into the kitchen for a coffee, but there is one thing in the routine that never changes and that is talking to Amma.

It's my me time when I talk to Amma, we never talk Politics or the news as I don't like to hear news as soon as I wake up. It is 90% about the family and the rest about food :) two things that we both like to talk about. We have been doing this for years now, one of my favorite moments is when I had move to the US and called Amma one day.

I was taking 5 graduate level EE classes and had a part time job as a waitress. That day was particularly long as I had a shift till 2am (it was a wedding we were catering and waitressing for ) and was back to my apartment around 3am. I fell asleep rethinking my life choices, missing home, family and friends. I really really wanted to give up and just come back home to the easy stable job and life I gave up to pursue my dreams. 

When I woke up that day, I felt like a total failure. Not even two months into a new life I chose and worked for, all I wanted to do was quit. As I made my coffee, I became even more frustrated as the coffee did not taste like the coffee back home even though the coffee powder was the same. I wanted to go back home, but was afraid to do so as I would be labelled as a failure. Some one who gave up their job to do higher studies and couldn't handle the pressure of staying away from home after two months. 

I called Amma and we talked for few minutes - it was an old cell phone , the flip type , connection was not too bad but not the best. I told Amma life was good, talked about classes and the wedding yesterday - my first wedding reception I have been to in the US. As I talked to her and told her how it was just like the movies and my surprise by the amount people drank! I immediately felt lighter and so much better talking with her and laughing about the antics of the fellow waiters. 

But then Amma asked me what was bothering me. I put on a brave front and said - Nothing, life is great, classes are what I expected, I am making friends, the tests are not so hard...but then she stopped me and said - "Your breathing is not right...your breathing is bothered, not happy. What is wrong?" I laughed at the absurdity of the statement. Here I was talking through a flip phone thousands of miles away and my mother can figure out my mood based on the my breathing...I couldn't tell her how I felt like quitting and all I wanted to do was come back home. But somehow without using any words and even though I was explaining about the wedding, she knew that something was going on just by listening to my breath!

As I went through the day, I had this aha moment at some point - "You know what, If I want to quit, I can!" If I think this is a wrong decision to move countries, I can correct it any point, you know why? I have people who will support me no matter what...I have support from family who know me so well that they can figure out my mood from my sighs and exhales. No words needed, no video or body language...just by the length of my inhales and exhales...Somehow those words from my mother made me feel that I don't have to try so hard, I don't need to set expectations and expect that I have to enjoy all moments in life. Sometimes you make decisions you think is for the best sucks and it is ok. 

From that day onwards, I have given myself total permission to fail. Because no matter what society has measures for success and failure, my Amma made me feel like it is all part of life - the successes and failures...I am often labelled "bold" by relatives, colleagues. I take chances in life and at work when there is no need for it. I do it simply because of my morning talks. My grounding morning talks...

As you grow up and fly away, here is my promise to you...I will try my best to listen and understand you without you ever having to use a word to describe how you feel. I know I will fail at times to do it and understand you but know that Amma is always here to listen to your breath just like my Amma does it every single day!

Do you remember your first shoes?

 Tis the season of graduating high school and hunting for the perfect college. It reminds me of the story when opportunities were scarce and expectations were low.

When Thatha was in high school, he travelled to a school at a nearby town which meant that he had to bike/walk 6 miles each way to get to school. He was the only one from his village traveling, so the ride was lonely. Thatha says he got good at Math as he used to think about the math problems and different ways of solving it on the ride to and back from school. He tells this story which used to make me laugh so hard when I was a child - one day it was pouring rain and the wind was blowing so hard in the direction opposite to his destination - home. So after struggling for quite some time trying to ride his bike in the wind and the road that was soon becoming all mucky with the rain, he gives up, turns his bike around and just rides it back to school. Imagine you going to school and not able to come back home due to heavy rain and sleeping in your classroom!! Now thinking about it, I don't know why I laughed every time my father said this story, but he made it sound so much fun and adventurous!

 When the results came out for high school, it would appear in the newspaper and you need to look for your exam number. 

Thatha's brother lived in a town where they had access to newspaper and he checked the number for thatha. The results were categorized into first class, second class and third class. Thatha's brother first checked the third class and was disappointed to not find his name, then he checked the second class and knew for sure that Thatha failed his high school as he could not find his number there either. Imagine his surprise when Thatha's number was among the first class students! 

It didn't matter if he was in first class or third, Thatha's father gave him only two options - either get into an engineering college or stay home and help with the family business (small grocery store connected to their house). He would not let Thatha apply to a college in any other subject such as Biology or language as the prospects of jobs were scarce. Thatha applied for engineering school and got through the first step of the process and was called in for an interview to the big city!

Thatha and his father set off to the big city and on the day before the interview his father took him to a shoe shop and Thatha got his first ever pair of shoes. Its sort of like how you and Baba go shoe shopping, Baba is so big on right fit, space for your toes etc etc. Well, it was sort of the opposite for Thatha, he had no clue what he was looking for and he is super scared of his own father, so he pretty much nodded his head to the pair that was presented to him.

The next day he wore it to his interview and felt very uncomfortable. He figured it was because he was not used to it. When they reached the bus stop, on of his father's friends noticed that he was wearing the shoes wrong - right pair on his left foot and left on his right foot!! His father was so mad at him for his ignorance! Poor thatha was so stressed out about his shoes, but guess what... he aced his interview. 

One coincidence in this story is that one of the interviewers during his college admission was Abdul Kalam who later became the president of India. He was also the same president who bestowed the Presidents award for science and technology to Thatha all those years later!

Who would have thought the boy who did not know how to wear shoes, the family who thought that he failed his high school, soaked in every opportunity he could get, travelled multiple countries, helped people along the way and became a beacon for science and technology!! 

It is easy to judge people who don't have the right clothes or the perfect shoes, they may not know how to use a fork or talk in a polished and elegant way. We need to remember that every one has their own story, different backgrounds and the things that matter the most are not how people look or their material pocession. 

Happy Father's day to the man who taught me to tie my shoes and made sure that I always had the best of everything in my life!!