Horizonistic Musings.........

I look at the blog and see that I have not put up a post for a long time. Yes I did start on a few but they have been saved as drafts and not posted.

Writing a post is a cathartic process for me. I and me, benefit best from writing one. So I have never felt the need to tell others or indicate my interests in blogging. I write under a pseudonym which was once a childhood name. In fact I have shared my blog posts with only a few selected friends.

As thoughts flow into words, trying to find the right word that best portrays your thought is a challenge. I re-look at the word I have typed and see if this is the one that precisely says what I want to. It is a useful exercise. At the end of writing a post, I feel a little spent but exhilarated. The whole process is equivalent to time spent in exercising. The "feel good" hormones kick in at the end of a session and a bouyant mood sets in.

There are many thoughts that crowd and jostle to be shaped into words. But picking a line of thought, focusing on it and putting down your opinions into a coherent piece of writing helps me get organized for other aspects in life too. A word, a sentence, a paragraph and a whole page in organized written thought has helped me focus better, think better and live better.

Life has meted out experiences that vary for every individual. But in the end what matters is what you have learnt from them and whether the lessons have shaped you into a better individual.

At the end of the day, I am thankful for life, experiences and incidents both good and bad and the mind which compiles these memories, the happenings and incidents into a shape which enables us to see clearly where we stand currently. I guess this is what is called "Wisdom". No wonder it is said that wisdom comes with age!

Things seem hazy as I look into the horizon. It is a horizon that I am gazing at today longing to reach, touch and feel. Tomorrow I will be a day closer to the horizon I saw yesterday. But at the same time, tomorrows also brings with them other new horizons!

Confusing???? Yes mightily! But this is what life is all about. Each day brings with it a horizon so different to reach to.

At a juncture in life, we do actually reach the spot which was once a distant, unyeilding and unreachable horizon. And the different horizons that we keep seeing with our mind's eye each day are reached at different time points. Some early, some late.

I promise myself that when I reach the end points of what seemed as horizons in the yesterdays, I would look back and see the things I have left behind. I promise myself that I would look back and see that what I have left behind are baggages in a long queue, the queue being "TIME standing still". I hope to make sure that the queue consist of bad memories, negative incidents, wrong decisions and mistakes that I have made.

I hope to have shed them all along the way one by one. So that what I see and have ahead of me is a positive attitude, opportunities to take hold of so that I can live life to the fullest with its combination of pasture and potholes.

These random thoughts existed as pocketed recesses in my mind and I have written them down to see whether it made sense.

Yes it does!

My horizons, here I am! I walk, run, toddle towards you depending on what life holds today!

Nevertheless, everything I do will be "towards" and never "backwards" from you!

Getting the kids to practice.......

Any mother worth her salt, would agree with me on this point. The sheer moumental task of getting your kids to practice something they are learning. It is a period that can stretch your 'whatever left over patience' to the limits.

This is a time when mothers keel over to the side like a sinking ship, or hang by the thinnest thread over the cliff, or are ready to tip over the boundaries of reason into the other world of madness.

My daughters are learning to play the keyboard. The enthusiasm that gripped all three of us, a feverish anticipatory feeling when it all began is still there. The girls and I would be ready for the music teacher with the keyboard placed at the center on the carpet. We would adjust the angle and position of the chairs every now and then, shift them this way or that ever so often wondering whether such a tilt would offer the best position for learning. Nothing has changed this routine even now!

We would eagerly wait for the sound of the teacher's bike or car and then rush to take our positions respectively. It was a comic sight. I would quickly take my seat on the sofa to watch, the elder one beside me. The younger girl is seated on the chair with the keyboard in front and an empty chair beside for the teacher.

It was a picture of studious music lovers with a musically motivated mother hovering by. Pleasantries exchanged, we would all sit down for the half-an-hour class per child with eagerness.

Time passses quickly, the elder one follows the younger one to the chair to learn. The teacher bids adieu and is quickly gone to the next appointment and class.

This is where the cliff hanging starts! The first day after music class is when I feel the pins and needles sensation most acutely. The "mother centric special" centers of the brain start their warning signals early on. "You must initiate the practice, you must let them begin it" scream the neurons.

So it starts, the prodding from my side to begin the practice and the resistance of the paediatric brains to this nagging. After a short time of this haggling, one of the paediatric species takes the chair. A huge sigh of relief and victory escapes from me.

The relief does not last long. I sit on the sofa now with the news paper open, interjecting now and then with "1,2,3,4" or "1 and, 2 and, 3, 4" or "1,2,3" helping with the counts. The girl gets up from the chair and says " mommy, do you know what Jo..... said to me today?" or "you know we were practicing this dance and let me show the moves" (from the elder girl)..

"Later, later! Now get back to practice" comes my irritated reply.. The practice resumes until a voice pipes up saying " mommy, I need to drink water" or "oh, I forgot something, I need to call my friend". The excuses are many and varied. They never get exhausted, something akin to a celestial goldmine.. ...

The same sequences of events follow everyday until the day arrives for the next music lesson. We make the usual fuss and take our usual positions on the chairs.

Now comes the verdict from the teacher! "Very good! you have practiced well and learnt your lessons well, O.k let me teach you new lessons and pieces!"

I become a huge inflated balloon, floating carelessly... The words of the teacher are like music, helium whatever, but I am reaching heights....

Alas! Time is short... All too soon the lessons end, the euphoria ceases, helium has leaked and I am on terra firma.....

There they are! The patience testing days, a deflated mother, merry kids entering the practice sessions merrily, merrily and the cycle of music practice emerges from the horizon!

Pets, PETA and Herriot

Yesterday, a news sniplet in one of the two dailies I buy reported that a famous actress would pose in the nude for PETA. PETA stands for people for ethical treatment of animals. This organisation operates with the motto of not to eat, wear, experiment on, use for entertainment and abuse animals. It operates with branches all over the world.

One of the best things that I like about PETA is the way they monitor and report abuse on animals whenever and wherever noticed. One such example is the regularity with which this organisation brings to notice the extravagance of the rich and famous in wearing fur. PETA writes to famous people who have worn fur on public occasions and tells them of alternatives to fur and raises their awareness level.

We should be very grateful that such organisations exist. A voice for the voiceless literally. Many a time I have been really pained by sights of cruelty to animals. The domesticated ones which undergo such abuse are really to be pitied for. These are animals which need man. They are dependent on man for shelter and food.

What we humans fail to appreciate is the amount of joy a pet can bring. As far as I can remember, while growing up at my parental home there were always pets. We had an alsatian dog, cats, chickens. At one point of time we had 13 cats, 10 chickens and a dog.

Let me tell you how we came to acquire so many pets. The alsatian dog and the cat were the intended pets. The cat went on to have a litter of 5 kittens. Once that happened we waited anxiously for the kittens to open their eyes, which took a week or so. The kittens looked amazingly beautiful with their eyes opened. The yellow, green and blue irises were bewitching and in no time we were hooked to them forever.

Kittens become amazingly adorable with their million playful ways. From their tiny mews to their black-hole like ability to be curious at anything and everything kept us occupied all day long. So we let them stay as the tiny kittens progressed to become big kittens and finally mature felines. All four of us children had our own favourite kitten which we carried to bed with us every night.

And what about the chickens? We were left ten brown eggs by a friend. Soon enough the edibility factor was thrown to the wind and they were carefully laid in a bed of hay in a cardboard box. After around 21 days, the eggs hatched one by one.

We were lost in the beauty of the moment. Initially there were tapping sounds from within the egg. We had a glimpse of a tiny beak through a crack in the shell. This was followed by the sight of the very first tiny, yellow, wet chick shaking itself off the remnants of the shell. This moment was riveting and enthralling. As children we felt that it was the bravest thing anyone would do- break out of enclosed place. This first chick got a big hurrah from us.

Well, to make the long story short, we had ten fluffy yellow chicks running around the house, which grew and acquired different tans after shedding their baby yellow feathers. Here again we had our favourites and in no time we realised that there were 7 hens and 3 roosters! They responded to our coos and baas. Believe it or not, bird brained is not a term to be used on our avian pets! They were lively, smart and had their own peculiar traits which provided endless moments of mirth.

I still think of those times wistfully. I wish I could provide my daughters with such "animal planet" experience. Our busy lives do not allow us to keep or maintain pets. The wisdom that is gained from pets is invaluable. It gives us opportunity to realise that they too have lives which involve birth, growth and death. The feast of beauty provided to our eyes in their birth and growth can only be matched by the affection and obedience to their human masters.

I would end this post by commenting that those of us who can keep and maintain pets, lets own one. Let us support organisations like PETA, Blue Cross and SPCA. Lastly I would recommend that if ever you could get your hands on a James Herriot book, grab it and read it! Its worth the time and effort! The authors books are a must for all animal lovers and a MUST to sensitise our numb animal centres in the brain if there be one!

P.S. I will get back later with a post on the dog we had. The most amazing one ever! A few sentences or a paragraph would never do justice to her memory!

Teaching medical students - a brimming cup

If part of your profession happens to be teaching first year medical students after specialization in a non-clinical subject following a medical degree, that would describe me (along with my other colleagues here and elsewhere in the country). You find yourself in an environment that is invigorating and vibrant. More so if you live within the college campus as I do. In this post I would like to describe my experience of interacting with the first year medical students in the class room.

It is the first day in college. Classes are beginning after a hectic period of orientation. Henceforth there is a strict time table to follow which will rule the brand new medical students lives from 8 am to 5 pm each day. The students march in for their very first class. The lecture is scheduled at 8 am.

They come in quietly, unsure of what is in store not only for that day but for the next four and a half years. The room is quiet. Each student seems so committed, as determination shines in their faces to give their all to this noble profession. The faculty member dedicated to take the series of lectures in a particular topic walks in ( here it is me, could be any teacher in any medical college). 60 students stand up and greet the faculty member in a chorus. They sit down solemnly and are ready with the notebooks determined to jot down every alphabet, punctuation, line and rhyme uttered. The lecture begins, proceeds smoothly and the one hour class comes to a close. Any questions, any doubts the faculty member asks... A hushed silence is followed by hesitant shuffling and a few hesitant questions. The students walk out to the next lecture hall for another lecture.

The scene now shifts down the ages...... 5-7 months later.

It is the 8 am lecture class again and students enter the class room. Let us say they trickle in initially and then kind of flood in when the clock says 8 and the minutes tick away. Let me describe this scene of entry into the classroom which has many a time sent my colleagues and me into rib tickling laughter. This is the way we see it- three groups with very distinct characteristics.

The first group is where the majority belong. These students stroll, saunter, amble and meander their way into the classroom. There is a cloud of lassitude around each of them, an envelope of boredom. There is no urgency of any type. They take their places. They reach in time for the class.

Secondly there is a group which probably has woken up at 8 am and hopes to reach the class room too by 8 am. It is very vital that the faculty member does not choose this moment to enter the class room. This group attempts all types of acrobatics based entry. They leap up the stairs, fly, jump, attempt long jumps and if need be even high jumps. From my observation, for one of my colleague's class, I saw a feat, where the student comes flying on a bicycle, and with a single movement manages to both stop the bicycle and leap up onto the 3rd stair at the same time! A suitable candidate for making split second based decisions! (hopefully this will come handy, when he graduates as a doctor)

The class room door is shut by 8.05 am as punctuality is stressed as a valuable trait to be nurtured (more so on observing the above said).

The faculty member starts taking the roll call from the attendance register. Then come a quick succession of yes ma'am in all kinds of voices- gruff, sweet, hoarse, soft, loud, enthusiastic etc... Suddenly the teacher finds that the voice matching the name is heard but it is not emanating from within the class room. Confused she looks around right, left and front..... A moment of confusion reigns!

Aha! This is the third and last major sub group. The ones who come late and yet cherish the fond hope to enter the class room. They are strong willed, have awaken probably at 8.05 am and make it to the class room by 8.10- 8.15 am. Resolutely they stand outside when the attendance roll is called out. When their names are heard, they shout loudly from outside, reiterating their desire to enter. The entire class bursts into laughter. There is a round of applause for these brave souls.

Attendance over, the teacher too is overwhelmed with their enthusiasm and lets them in with a stern warning of "no repetition" of such behaviour.

There are other subgroups as well.. But currently, I will not go into their group dynamic characteristics.

The lecture begins, and here is where other antics are observed.

Some have an attentive appearance but are quiescently sleeping. Some are restless while some are whispering in groups of 2 or sometimes 3. There appears to be a seperate class going on between themselves. Some are listening to their i-pods. There are some with rapt faces of attention but actually reading for a test in another subject. There are some who are avid note jotters while others who detest wasting energy in any form of writing and become arthritic. Amidst these, there are the MODEL students (God be blessed for their presence!) who follow every word ardently and question intelligently. This motley bunch of a class make teaching a challenge worth to be taken. All activities proceed simultaneously and the lectureeeeeeeeee finallyyyyyyyyyy comes to an end.
The teacher and students disperse both satisfied and secure in the knowledge of "mission accomplished"!

What I have hoped to bring to your view is the change that has occurred (see third para)..... The evolving of serious faced youngsters at the beginning of the course to a state of brownian motion. This is one area where every teacher worth his/her salt faces a constant challenge. The situation calls for constant evolution on the part of teachers too. New strategies and tactics are called for. A challenge to which we must be adequately equipped with to deal! A horizon distant enough to reach, nevertheless try WE MUST!

Sunday afternoons -II, Beauty concerns

In a home with 3 persons of the fairer sex, sunday afternoons become a powerful tool to indulge in blissful beauty enhancing routines. As mentioned earlier, these are irregularly but still regularly done creating a routine in their own sense of the word.

Out of the many things that we love pampering ourselves with, getting an oil massage done is a favourite. Being the mother of two daughters, the preparative work for this procedure and the onus of giving one falls duly on me. We have two oils that we alternately use, sesame and coconut.

There are strict ayurvedic indications for using these two oils. Nevertheless, they do supposedly achieve the desired results of deep conditioning, healthy bouncy hair with the bonus effects of shiny hair and reduced hair fall.

The procedure kicks off by taking an approximate amount of oil in a wide bowl. This amount will vary, according to the size of the head big or small, hair growth being thick or sparse. The oil is then warmed gently on the stove. This step is done with care as even a slight excess of heating may result in smoking hot oil!

I test the warmth of the oil gingerly with the ball of my index finger. If a little more warm than what the finger can endure, cooling for another few seconds does the job. I am ready for the job now.

I call my daughters one by one. After seating them on a chair, I start the oil massage procedure. Dipping both my hands into the bowl, I wet all the balls of my fingers with the oil, and quickly take them to the scalp. Planting ten fingers at ten different spots, I dab these individual areas of the scalp with the warm oil. Repeating the procedure ensures that all areas of the scalp have had a helping of the warm oil.

The remaining length of the hair too get their share. But the area to concentrate remains the scalp. I start the scalp massage using circular motion of the finger tips. Those of you who have had an oil massage regularly or once in a while will agree about the sheer pleasure of experiencing one. I keep this up for 10 minutes per child. The next in line is me and myself. Since there is no one to give one to me ( except if my mother happens to visit), I indulge myself in the warmth of the oil touching every hair root, while my fingertips take the toll of the massage. I keep it up for 10 minutes too.

The hair and scalp are allowed to soak in the oil, half to one hour.

We then lean back luxuriously on the sofa. But wait! Precaution here! Layer some newspapers on the sofa area where the head and neck may nestle, else you may regret forever about the oil or the massage.

This is a time when the body undergoes extreme relaxation and unwinding. Newspapers, weekly or fortnightly magazines are browsed with music playing in the background. These moments of bliss pass away quickly and we are ready to wash our hair.

The hair is washed with a gentle shampoo followed by a conditioner. Depending on the weather, a hair dryer may or may not be used.

Believe it or not, the oil massage though an irregular ritual (but is tried to be kept as a "sunday afternoon regular" as best as possible!) lighten our spirits immensely as we laugh at silly jokes and giggle all we want at the expense of one another!

At the end you feel happy and content at the time spent with each other and a crown full of shiny, bouncy hair to show off!!

Try it and see, you will know what I mean!

Sunday afternoons -1 "The Dailies in my life"

Sunday afternoons hold a special place in our household weekly routine. It is the time of the week when nothing is planned for or allotted. A loosely structured time, it is upto us to mold it like play dough. We have a very interesting routine (yes, wrong on that one- how can you call something unstructured as routine?) on these afternoons- more of unplanned things happening regularly.

Following a late lazy lunch, the time is up for grabs! So what do we do? My daughters and I find ourselves sprawled on bed with our hair let down. The news papers too have occupied every inch of the large double bed put together with another single bed. The loosely sheathed papers have found a niche of their own within the space constraint offered. We buy two newspapers, and pride ouselves on the completeness of the news thus offered. Let me describe the veracity of this fact in this post.

One is the national daily "The Hindu", which is the staid conservative daily, whose well written, balanced editorials have much impact on national policy makers and which is also the oldest newspaper in India. The Hindu is much respected amongst both the older and younger generation for its conservative outlook, well verified facts and as a great tool to increase proficiency of both written and reading skills of the English language.

The Friday supplement of the Hindu, is a big hit at home. The kids love the 'Young World' supplement rife with interesting titbits from nature, drawings and sketches and short articles from students of various schools. The well written stories with a good moral has been a positive influence on my daughters. The younger girl has always loved the crayon corner in the same.

My personal favourites are the Thursday, Friday and Sunday Supplements each carrying scientific, film and music reviews, and assorted articles on places, travel and personal opinions respectively. I have my favourite columnists in the Hindu Sunday supplement whose articles I have followed religiously for many years. V.Gangathar's "Slice of Life", Kalpana Sharma's "The other half"and Shashi Tharoor's columns have been my favourite among the favourites.

The second newspaper that we buy is the "Deccan Chronicles" which has a wider younger reader base. Its pages too are filled with news and articles from all over and covers all types of news. Then why do I buy this paper? This newspaper carries news with a very local flavour, all sorts of news about local politics, local film fraternity and gossip of as varied a theme as to why a certain politician went to Bangkok on a state visit but in reality went to get his hair weaved (!!!) glaring at you in the front page itself.

Most pages have the look of page three items. Let me remind you at this point, the peeping tom within each one of us never tires of these endless glimpses into the lives and loves of the rich, bad and beautiful.

There is the additional bonus of international gossip thrown in and you have a plethora of choice in following various hollywood stars and starlets in their visits to baby showers, hair dressers and their intimate drug histories! That coupled with various polls on "the actor who autographs best" to "the best looking baby bump" keeps you entertained as best as the reality shows on TV.
Anything for children? You may ask. Well yes, you have the riddles and quizzes much favoured by my older daughter.

So when I made a statement about the completeness of news, you bet I have it within my grasp with these two dailies! I have never regretted the choice of either of them at any point at all.

This is the way many of my sunday afternoons pass, with my nose buried in newspapers (sunday's as well the old ones which I had stashed away for this day) while the kids chatter away sitting on individual islands of newspapers with a box of crayons themselves.

Will get back with other sunday afternoon acitivities soon. Till then, keep gazing, the horizon beckons!

Pulling out a HA HA from sickness

Nursing a sick child is a task that remains a parcel of "for as long as you are a mother you got to do it" things. I realised it can be a time of loving bonding with your child and a time for self reflection. It is an intimate period that can be much more than the outer bare facts of chores, hospital visits and sleepless nights. A fact so true when as a working mother I realised a cheery side to it too.

Three days back, I came home from work to find my 6 year old younger daughter burning with fever. She had let herself under the blanket and was unaware of my entry. I missed her bubbly and cheerful persona that kept the home alive and warm as my older daughter and I were on the wrong side of bubbly personality traits. The thermometer showed 40* C which in Fahrenheit translated as 104*C. With the immediate measures of Calpol syrup and tepid sponging in place, I settled in beside my daughter for the long haul in the night.

My calm and resposible older daughter did all the small errands of changing the water for the tepid sponging routine, bringing enough drinking water, vicks vaporub, a glass of juice, biscuits and before long the two of us were sitting on the bed with the little sick girl. The older girl browsed the newspapers for her favourite riddles section and quiz questions while I was trying to talk my younger one into answering the usual mother questions of when and how she felt sick trying to make as sense as possible out of the mumbled responses I received.

The day after was not very different from the one before. The fever was as stubborn in its tenacity to stick to its high category temperature as me trying to wear the thermometer with innumerable readings. It was equally stubborn to remain high even after 24 hours. The second night was worse than the first as the sick girl vomited from gastritis developed with round the clock paracetamol syrup made worse with taking minuscule quantities of water, juice and soft foods. Another night of sleeplessness, and I found myself bleary eyed with a throbbing headache the third day due to endless rounds of tepid sponging.

With 36 hours of unbridled fever time, I made the decision to go to the hospital for tests which included taking blood for differential counts of WBCs, platelet count, malarial parasites, urine for microscopy and a throat swab. The paediatrician announced that my daughter had a bad bout of pharyngitis on examination of the throat. My daughter was put on antibiotics and ranitidine syrup for her gastritis. By afternoon the same day, the fever relented leaving an exhausted, weak tiny patient and an equally tired mother.

So what is the flip side to this story? I found precious time to remain close to my daughter, saw she had nails that needed trimming, pondered over the fact that she had grown bigger than the last time I had observed her closely, missed the cheer of her voice which always permeated the house as an air freshener, reminded myself again to spend more time individually with each child ( it is a guilt every working mother feels the pang of), go back years in time to her birth, the baby months and the toddler years all of which brought a smile to my face.

I observed the concern of my elder daughter to her sister's and my needs. Her need for attention when she complained that she too had a headache coming on (a feeling every sibling undergoes when the other remains the focus of attention), her strong sense of caring when she refused to go for a church trekking organised for the preteens and teens and instead chose to go to the hospital with us. Her attempts to make the younger sibling laugh with lots of jokes and charades lingers warmly in my heart.

Life, even at its most trying teaches us to be thankful for all the things we have and hold RIGHT NOW. Today, my daughter had two peaks of rise in temperature, but her laughter, chatter and innumerable questions put life back on track. I realise I am alive with the hope of mercy and gratitude from heaven above. Surrounded by friends, daughters and loved ones, the reason to go on in life and explore the horizons become imperative!