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!
Saturday, December 22, 2007
Tuesday, December 18, 2007
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!
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!
Monday, December 17, 2007
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.
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, December 16, 2007
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!
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!
Saturday, December 15, 2007
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!
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!
Tuesday, March 13, 2007
Today is here
Its another day
The alarm sings at 5.00 am.I switch it off for another quick snooze. It sings again half an hour later.Two alarms certainly make an impact on my foggy brain. It is time for the morning walk!
As I quickly dress myself and wear the shoes, I realize my sleep deficient state wants to hit the sack again. But the benefits of exercise outweigh that of sleep and I am propelled into the dark morning road.
The sky is still black dotted with grey balls of clouds, the sword edge of the moon crescent peeping and stars still reticent to recede. I meet my friend (She and I usually walk together) and we grunt cursory good mornings and the walk begins briskly.
I come across the following subspecies of homosapiens and I pause to ponder the two factors, probability and time linking our lives at that moment.
The security guard of the medical college campus where I work smoothening his crumpled uniform to say good morning,
A woman in a sari, both (sari and woman) sleep shrivelled, generously sprinkling a bucket of water in front of her thatched ghost of a house,
The roadside tea shop vendor, lighting his stove with the goliathian brass tea kettle blackened by years of loving service to the neighbourhood motley,
The bunk shop located in a corner, whose owner is soliciting divine blessings, emanating a breeze of burning incense sticks aroma,
A middle aged husband and wife walking team, mmm interesting...... The husband holding the tip of the corner of his dhoti in one hand and a pocket radio in the other listening to devotional morning ragas- definite multitasking skills and the wife devoutly following with her own pace,
Farther along, a long snake of trainee policemen (with a few women trainees thrown in), emerge suddenly from the gateway of their training academy, marching to full throated 'Left,Right, Left, Right' with interesting glances thrown in our direction,
Dawn has insidiously crept upon us, and the outline of mountain peaks in the distance lends romance to the morning crispness.
The town is awakening, the sounds more amplified by the caws of the hundreds of crows preparing to leave their nesting places in the huge banyan tree by the side of the road.
A group of saree clad housewives exercising their adipose laden torsos, evidently on strict physician advice and the looming threat of becoming another statistic number reinforcing the numero uno status of India in Diabetes,
Enriched by the unobtrusive intrusion of homosapien subspecies into my walk, I feel a smile creeping at the corners of my mouth.
Another day, unborn a few hours earlier, now birthed and given fresh into my hands.
Life and Time today is mine, idiosyncrasies and all........
The alarm sings at 5.00 am.I switch it off for another quick snooze. It sings again half an hour later.Two alarms certainly make an impact on my foggy brain. It is time for the morning walk!
As I quickly dress myself and wear the shoes, I realize my sleep deficient state wants to hit the sack again. But the benefits of exercise outweigh that of sleep and I am propelled into the dark morning road.
The sky is still black dotted with grey balls of clouds, the sword edge of the moon crescent peeping and stars still reticent to recede. I meet my friend (She and I usually walk together) and we grunt cursory good mornings and the walk begins briskly.
I come across the following subspecies of homosapiens and I pause to ponder the two factors, probability and time linking our lives at that moment.
The security guard of the medical college campus where I work smoothening his crumpled uniform to say good morning,
A woman in a sari, both (sari and woman) sleep shrivelled, generously sprinkling a bucket of water in front of her thatched ghost of a house,
The roadside tea shop vendor, lighting his stove with the goliathian brass tea kettle blackened by years of loving service to the neighbourhood motley,
The bunk shop located in a corner, whose owner is soliciting divine blessings, emanating a breeze of burning incense sticks aroma,
A middle aged husband and wife walking team, mmm interesting...... The husband holding the tip of the corner of his dhoti in one hand and a pocket radio in the other listening to devotional morning ragas- definite multitasking skills and the wife devoutly following with her own pace,
Farther along, a long snake of trainee policemen (with a few women trainees thrown in), emerge suddenly from the gateway of their training academy, marching to full throated 'Left,Right, Left, Right' with interesting glances thrown in our direction,
Dawn has insidiously crept upon us, and the outline of mountain peaks in the distance lends romance to the morning crispness.
The town is awakening, the sounds more amplified by the caws of the hundreds of crows preparing to leave their nesting places in the huge banyan tree by the side of the road.
A group of saree clad housewives exercising their adipose laden torsos, evidently on strict physician advice and the looming threat of becoming another statistic number reinforcing the numero uno status of India in Diabetes,
Enriched by the unobtrusive intrusion of homosapien subspecies into my walk, I feel a smile creeping at the corners of my mouth.
Another day, unborn a few hours earlier, now birthed and given fresh into my hands.
Life and Time today is mine, idiosyncrasies and all........
Sunday, March 11, 2007
I told you so
The very first post as a sequelae to an introductory post is a dilemma in itself. You want it trim and proper, shapely and fun, wowing the readers and you completely. So why should I be an exception to this grandiose expectation? Thoughts crowd and jumble up the neuronal connections, a mileu of eclectic electrical activity,looking for a single stable idea.
Motherhood, I shout silently is the place to start. We must advocate mothers and their advice 'THE' panacea to all troubles. For it is this group that gets to say the most number of 'I told you so' and irritatingly they are right all the time!
Being one, I should know the glee that comes from saying 'I told you so'. The warmth of these words start from the bottom of one's heart, tingling your body akin to the sensation that only a thousand peppermints tasted by a thousand tongues on the body can give. This gives way to a long, meandering chat extolling the virtues of obedience and the final 'next time, learn to listen to your mom'. My daughters have the look which says 'there she goes again' and I have the giddy elation the endorphins have gladly imparted.
Like it or not, mothers are a class apart in their Nostradamus like predictions. My friend ratified this the other day, when confessing that his mom's predictions about people held true even down the years. Even the good ol' newspaper 'Hindu' endorses this view completely. Carolyn O' Neil's column on 'Mom's food rules'in the March 11 sunday supplement calls mom's food rules golden rules. Eat your breakfast, clean your plate, dont wolf down food, dont eat junk food, dessert only after the meal are some of the rules she mentions and ones all of us have blithely ignored. Todays research backs up mom's 'I told you so's.
As my daughters wave good bye from their bicycles on their way to school,my heart swells up with pride. Shiny, scrubbed faces, clean uniforms with same as your body weight bags nestling on their shoulders, they look fresh for the day.Starting from repeated wakeup shouts to coaxing for baths, to eat breakfast else you will be dizzy to, did you remember to put in all the books in the bag, I have done it all. I have a terrible headache with a leave thrown in to rest. But escape from motherhood, no chance! Transient, volatile fluctuations in blood pressure combined with the ineffable beauty of being redeemed with kisses and hugs. What better way to start a day than by being a 'I told you so' mother?
Motherhood, definitely a hazy horizon but numerous unseen 'I told you so' beckon me into the sublime future!
Motherhood, I shout silently is the place to start. We must advocate mothers and their advice 'THE' panacea to all troubles. For it is this group that gets to say the most number of 'I told you so' and irritatingly they are right all the time!
Being one, I should know the glee that comes from saying 'I told you so'. The warmth of these words start from the bottom of one's heart, tingling your body akin to the sensation that only a thousand peppermints tasted by a thousand tongues on the body can give. This gives way to a long, meandering chat extolling the virtues of obedience and the final 'next time, learn to listen to your mom'. My daughters have the look which says 'there she goes again' and I have the giddy elation the endorphins have gladly imparted.
Like it or not, mothers are a class apart in their Nostradamus like predictions. My friend ratified this the other day, when confessing that his mom's predictions about people held true even down the years. Even the good ol' newspaper 'Hindu' endorses this view completely. Carolyn O' Neil's column on 'Mom's food rules'in the March 11 sunday supplement calls mom's food rules golden rules. Eat your breakfast, clean your plate, dont wolf down food, dont eat junk food, dessert only after the meal are some of the rules she mentions and ones all of us have blithely ignored. Todays research backs up mom's 'I told you so's.
As my daughters wave good bye from their bicycles on their way to school,my heart swells up with pride. Shiny, scrubbed faces, clean uniforms with same as your body weight bags nestling on their shoulders, they look fresh for the day.Starting from repeated wakeup shouts to coaxing for baths, to eat breakfast else you will be dizzy to, did you remember to put in all the books in the bag, I have done it all. I have a terrible headache with a leave thrown in to rest. But escape from motherhood, no chance! Transient, volatile fluctuations in blood pressure combined with the ineffable beauty of being redeemed with kisses and hugs. What better way to start a day than by being a 'I told you so' mother?
Motherhood, definitely a hazy horizon but numerous unseen 'I told you so' beckon me into the sublime future!
Hello Everybody!
The horizon is the limit! Thats the way we view life through our narrow lenses. Hey, what if the horizon itself turns out to be hazy most of the time! Life is exasperating and so is chemistry and sometimes everything that surrounds us..Most times, it is a lazy,long road but incredibly sometimes, constant punctuation seems to be the order of the day. Here's to life- a toast of wonder and mockery! I love you, I celebrate you (if I forget your abrupt brazenness for a second)!
I start this blog to pen my musings, thoughts on motherhood and crook a finger at life!
I start this blog to pen my musings, thoughts on motherhood and crook a finger at life!
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