When old friends meet...

It has been nearly twenty years! Last I saw this friend of mine, it was in 1992!!

Long forgotten memories and long lost roads. We walked them again. Together. After nearly two decades.

Supriya is a teacher in the UK. I am a doctor in New Delhi. We have our families and our children and our work. We both feel passionately about our lives. And we were both together for most of our schooling.

So tender and so engrossing was our meeting that we did not even think of taking any pictures!!

We talked. We talked about our lives then and our lives since. We talked of all that we do now. And we talked about what our families do. With children nearly the same age, we identify with the conflicts and struggles of parenting and raising our childen to be what they can be.

It is not much different for her or for me. Our lives are defined by the several roles we play in the world we inhabit... and by the aspirations we hold for the world we want to build.

And we do want to build a world where our children are not only safe but also nurtured and nurturing.

We both are working in our small capacities and I do hope, there are several more 'mothering' their children to make a difference each day...

Lessons that children teach us start from the day they are born and continue through their childhood into adolescence onto that imperceptible crossover into adulthood. It is not as if a switch is thrown suddenly at the strike of the midnight hour on their eighteenth birthday! It is a slow and gradual process that transforms a child into an adult and a teacher into a student.

At eight thirty today in the morning, passing the Old Fort on my way to work, I saw a Police Gypsy... well... Qualis! The driver was a policemen in his thirties, perhaps. the subject of my interest was, however, his 'co-pilot'! This man sitting in the front seat had propped his arm on the rolled down window and his head was resting on his arm. Resting! Quite literally. This man, this policeman, was sleeping at eight thirty am. What kind of a hard night could he have had? What kind of goons, or road rage perpetrators could he have chased? What kind of accident victims could he have ferried to the nearest hospital? What could be making him so sleepy with the sun staring him in the face at this time in the morning?

Coming back to the children... Mine had woken up about two hours earlier, had a bath, eaten their morning snack, and readied themselves for the school. They were well into their "work" day!

Two hours earlier, not only have I begun my day but also that of these little children.

They wake up every morning rubbing their eyes with innocence that only a young child can accomplish. It is still the most endearing thing in the morning. Tiny hands going over tiny eyes.
" Mom I am feeling sleepy!, moans my son. We stretch and we read and try whatever else may open our eyes enough to get through with the rest of the routine, including a misting spray!

Children feel every emotion fully, live each moment fully, they are always here, NOW!

When they are happy... they laugh out LOUD NOW.
When something hurts, they wail as if there isn't going to be a tomorrow... NOW.
When they go to school, they may love it or hate it... they are not passive beings given to indifference.

And adults?
Driving the car... AND planning the first meeting in the office!
Talking... AND thinking what to say next.
Having fun... AND drifting back to that project deadline that they have to meet.
Teaching a class BUT thinking about the course to be finished!

We do need to learn a lot from our children...
Live, love, enjoy and cry fully... NOW

What kind of a tree is victory?

Life in the city has become so noisy that it has drowned peace, silence and soul.

Waking up to an alarm that should be loud enough to bring us back from slumberland, we start our wakefulness with cacophony. Rushing through the morning ritual of getting the children and their tiffins ready for school makes time fly. Is there a way to slow it down? Recently we, my children and me, were going through a routine morning when we started discussing phonics. My four year old is showing interest in books and wants to put sounds together. He mentioned enthusiastically that ,"it is W for victory!" Was it Chak De? Where had he heard the word? When English wants to denote w and v, both, to say the same sound, can you flaw the thinking of a small child?

I explained, " No, bitta, it is V for victory and w for watch. It is getting to be seven. Now let us get ready." I was there with him... but not quite. I wanted to pull him into the race against time. School gates will close. We have to get there in time, etc. etc.

He, then said something which stopped me dead in my tracks. "Mama," he asked innocently after pondering for a few seconds, " What kind of a tree is vicTREE?" The emphasis is the way HE said it. Four year old. What kind of a tree is victory? He waited. He knew I would answer. No matter what I am doing or how much in a hurry- if my children ask- they recieve an answer. Even if it is sometimes just to acknowledge the question. I thought. What should I tell him?

"Victory, Moksh, is winning..."? Na! Boring. Where is the imagination? Where is the playfulness? Where is the spark to start a fire? To set him thinking and wanting to learn more? I smiled," Moksh, that is a wonderful question! ( that gave me a few seconds to put my thoughts together) Victory is the tree everyone wants to climb. This tree gives a fruit people find sweeter and more delicious than the mango," I replied earnestly. Then I rounded it off with the unimaginative- "Victory is winning".

Within a few seconds a four year old had managed to slow down time. He made us pause and think. He brought us back to now- rather than just running to catch the next moment. Never really managing it because each moment leads to another one which then needs to be caught. Why can we not learn from the children? Why can we not be simple-hearted and live NOW? I could honestly not read beyond the first few pages of Eckhart's Now. This may be a politically suicidal statement. But- I could not. I do not even remember the few pages I did manage to read. My son brought the Now much more sharply into focus and made time stop.

Mornings used to be for gentle awakenings. For leisurely morning walks. For deep breaths and deeper prayers. Where did those mornings go? Those mornings when, during vacations, we woke up at midday and had lunch without thinking about breakfast are long gone. Now the children who are learning music or skating or have to leave for those tuitions or ... numerous other things... that they fill their time with. They are busy! Where is their childhood? Where are the pithhoo, the paalaa, the staappoo and the kho- kho? And would you allow your child to play Hide and seek in the public park? Did we ever think somebody could kidnap us? Were all strangers monstors? Where have we arrived? Is this the price we pay for progress? Is this progress?

As a parent and a well-meaning adult, I want to make this locality, this city, this country, this world a safer place for children. I want to make it safe for children to run a sweat playing in the park once again. I want the children to enjoy a picnic in open and safe spaces. I want them to laugh freely, to raise their heads in wonder and see how beautiful the world really is. I want to make it beautiful.

Are there others who think like me? I am sure there are. This posting may just start a movement. I hope it does. I pray it does.

Here's to living in the present moment- happily, safely, with eyes full of wonder and soul full of curiosity.