On a rainy day

Rain signifies different things to different people. To some its a welcome relief and a pleasurable experience and to some others, sheer inconvenience.

To me it means absolute delight! One way I enjoy rain is get out into the open and experience the rain drops pelleting my face and the other is within the confines of my room in my own way. The smell that arises when the first rain drops drench the soil that has been scortching with heat and let the first surge of coolness spread through the air, wow that heavenly smell, its inexplicable!

When I was smaller, me and my kid brother used to run out into the open at the sight of rain. We splatter around in the rain all we want, standing in the terrace where we are least likely to be seen by anybody, while our parents keep an eye on us in case there is sudden lightning or thunder, for fear that it might strike down as we are on the upper floor. It did happen once when ligtning actually struck just a feet away from where we stood, luckily for us, we were safe.

Once we are done and nice and dry, my mind conjures up visions of a cup of hot chocolate(I'm not a coffee person) even better if sprinkled with marshmallows, and some spicy, piping hot snack - the one that comes to my mind instantly is molagha bajji (Normaly I hate bajjis but molagha bajji, well thats a totally different thing!). This combination can be substituted with a cup of cold butterscotch ice-cream too on rare occasions if I feel like it! Armed with either of these and a book to read, I curl up in my grand father's rocking chair. The distant humming of the rain, my book and my warm drink, the darkness in my room - ultimate bliss!.......My eye-lids slowly drop and I fall into a slumber while the coziness envelopes me and all I feel is the snugness and warmth.

When its time to bed, often with no power due to the downpour, appa, me, my brother and amma would build up a sort of tent on our bed. Pretending the bed-sheet we used for a tent to be our ceiling, we would cuddle up inside our tent. I had fluorescent stickers of the moon and the stars stuck on the walls of my room - the ones that glow in the dark, giving us the feeling that we were actually camping out in the open looking up to the sky, the moon, the stars and all. Snuggling together we would play games and sing along. Squeals, giggles and laughter would fill the room.......Memories that flood me with nostalgia!!!

Taare Zameen Par

I now turn my attention from pleasant thoughts and fond memories to the more serious and unfair faces of life.

Let me begin by first applauding the makers of the movie and all those involved with it for dealing with the subject with the right sensitivity and giving a profound insight into it. I hope this movie sends a reminder to all our movie makers to atleast once a while, make movies that actually reach out and touch our hearts.

But this post is not just about the movie. I would like to dwelve into my angle of the actual issue - dyslexia.

The most pathetic aspect of this problem is that in most cases, nobody is even aware of its existance. Since dyslexia affects only the fine skills, invariably, the inability of the child to comprehend certain things is mistook for sheer impertinence and indifference and by the time people realise that there is a problem, if they do that is, things may have gone just a little out of hand.

Leonardo Da Vinci and Thomas Alva Edison may have overcome this difficulty. But had they been subjected to today's educational system, it would have been a different story altogether!

I hate to see such children being turned out of schools under the pretext of incompatability and poor performance. God created every one equal and every child has a right to education which nobody has the right to deny. Whom did they wrong anyway to be shunned at? They are the ones who have been wronged for no fault of theirs.

That makes me wonder.....Have we reached a point where we want to raise only winners and achievers and not actually children? I know its a competetive world out there but are all those reasons, reasons enough to deprive children of their innocent and care-free childhood, the most precious phase of their lives?

What do these children actually need from the ones around them? Sympathy? Nope, thats the last thing they need and expect. Its the magical word Patience. Some one who can patiently see the world through their eyes and gradually make them see the right way. Some one who can instill in them self-confidence and hope - the two vital ingredients of life.

The children who do win over the hurdle called dyslexia and the ones who show them the ways to do so are the real and true stars!

An early morning stroll

The crackle of dawn - something I dont get to see often in life as I am a late to bed, late to rise person and I loooooove to sleep. But on the rare occasions that I have, I have thoroughly enjoyed it. Now my scenario here is my hometown so it would be quite different from the situation in a cosmopolitan city where most of you would be living now in which ever part of the world, just like me.

One of the instances when I was awake to witness this spectacular part of the day was, during my school days when I woke up on the mornings of some exams (not all). My bedroom was on the upper floor of our house and so when I am up and about and ready to sit to read, but still a bit drowsy and upset about getting out of bed, I first used to go to the terrace to gulp down some fresh air. The misty morning's breeze would instantly refresh me and I would be wide awake. I never needed any complan or boost to stimulate me after those few minutes of uninterrupted, absolutely delightful rendezvous with mother nature. The days that I was up very early and its still dark, I would look up to the sky - the constellations, the moon, the planets - the ones that can be seen vaguely, Mars and one other, I dont remember which ones now. On some days, appa used to get out of bed and join me on my ponderings over the universe and the galaxy, some intimate moments with my appa which I cherish to this day. When its twilight, I used to take my book to the terrace and read walking back and forth and to this date I have never come across an atmosphere which helped me concentrate better than that one. When I needed a break I would just gaze at the nature around me, the sky gaining its colour as daylight floods in, the planes and jets flying far above, some of them leaving a trail behind, the trees, the chirping birds, the squirrels and the chameleons on them, the dew drops on the saplings and leaves of the plants in my garden( I had my own garden there, groomed and maintained by me). I especially enjoyed the mornings of my last exams, subconciously anticipating the term holidays, visualizing all my holiday plans.

Another instance where I got to enjoy early mornings was during some of my holidays when amma would come up with a strict weight reduction programme to get her chubby girl toned down ( yes I used to be chubby as a kid and during my early teens). We would set out after day break and go for a walk around our calm and serene neighbourhood. The cool breeze touching your face gives you a feeling of exhilaration that cannot be described enough. As you pass by, you come across the milk man, the paper boy (people whose faces I dont get to see often), you notice the early morning routines of various house holds, the most common sight being the women folk doing kolam on their door ways and living in a town like ours, you get waves from all the sleepy heads just out of bed from their door ways and windows. Amma and me would be quick to pass by without stopping or else it would be the end to that day's walk and you would be forced to get yourself engaged in conversation sometimes with a cup of coffee and occasionally even invitations for breakfast!

The other favourite early morning activity of mine is going to the temple. The fresh feeling after an early shower and a drive or walk to a temple is incomparable. I always have felt that the purest possible form of myself that I can present before god is when I go in the early mornings, nice and fresh. My pick would be kumara kovil or melangodu because both the temples are located around foot hills in locales where the temples blend with the natural scenery around them. When I come out of those temples, I smell of the sandhanam, kungumam and vibudhi all over and that smell when combined with my fresh smelling skin and clean and slightly moist hair, along with the refreshing morning air, is ever so pleasant and divine!

The Glorious West

My first post - let me first address the issue that has been bothering me almost ever since I started with my new life here.
Like every other newly wedded girl who sets foot on this part of the world, the so called glorious west, I too had a cartload of dreams when I landed in Canada. When I exited the airport, the clean unpolluted air seemed to welcome me to a life full of style and comfort. My drive home was even more impressive what with the clean multi-lane roads, the highly regulated and disciplined traffic, the sky scrapers, the flashy cars and the smooth sailing of our own car. I was, at that point of time, fresh from the influence of the narrow roads, the incessant honking, the highly ruthless drivers, autos and cyclists leaping out in front of your car as if appearing out of thin air, the pits, puddles, bumps and the unnecessary speed breakers making you wonder if you are taking a rollercoaster ride. ......'Smooooooooooth is the word to describe life' I thought.
The next couple of months were all a treat to my senses - Trip to the Niagara, Camping(something I had been dreaming of doing from the time I was a teeny weeny kid reading Enid Blyton), Dining out at fancy restaurants and trying out every cuisine you can name, Shopping, The sweet nothings between me and Nish especially after the months of separation immediately after marraige when I waited for my sponsorship to get through and get my Permanent Residentship, The systematic way everything was organized, be it grocery shopping or getting a car wash at the gas station or offices pertinent to govt. issues or forming a queue to board a train or standing in line to buy tickets for a movie......... 'Wow this is the way to live' I thought.
Not that I didnt like life back home or I didnt miss home. Ofcourse I did. But this new way of life - no crowds, no mess , no hazzles, everything neat and clean and organized and a husband who adored you, added a new freshness and zest to life.
Few months gone before I realized it and now I'm coming back to reality and thinking about what I am going to do here and how I would go about launching myself here. What do I do? Simple - Go to an employment agency specifically meant for immigrants, they'll tell you all that you want to know, lots of them around and they are all funded by the govt. and you dont have to pay a penny - Great!!! So off I go, get registered, meet my counsellor. You are a great candidate she says, good qualification, good english, good communication skills, good personality, you are so marketable and you'll find a job in no time. Even better. We have a trip home in a couple of months, so its better to just grab some job that comes by and then after we are back from the trip you can try for a job in your specific field - Agreed, no problems. A week or two go by and I am called for an interview and lo and behold!!! I am hired! Customer Service Representative for one of the biggest retail chains in Canada and the US. 'You are smart and qualified - your credentials and skills are really appreciated here. Great place to build your career and future, no stumbling blocks' ..........I thought.
I work for a couple of months, go home on vacation, return, resign my job and set about starting to apply in my field of interest and expertise. The killing winter and recession sets in and it all begins...... For weeks and a couple of months I go to agencies specializing in IT employment(its not easy going around in the biting cold by yourself), cold call IT companies, apply online, write up half a dozen diferent formats of resumes. Result - just one interview call and after three rounds of interviews and getting down to the final three, the job goes to another candidate. Reason - hes more experienced than I am and in the present economic situation that candidate is willing to take up an entry level position even though he is qualified for a higher level.
Why didnt I get any other calls? Your degree is not Canadian and your experience is not Canadian. So you have to try a lot more than the natives do. Its difficult to get your first break at a professional level here. So thats the catch. .......'This is not how it was supposed to be' I thought. A sense of apprehension engulfs me.
My career aside, I try to learn to be independant here. First step - driving classes. I had already done my written test and I had the first level license. You cannot rely on public transport all the time and at all seasons and from my experiences this winter, I knew thats very true. Driving automatic cars is very easy, theres no clutch, no gear, just the gas and the brake pedals, thats all, Nish encourages me. Attend class room sessions and on road lessons. On attending class room sessions, I know how stringent the traffic regulations and the penalities are here and I have butterflies in my stomach. My first on road lesson - break hard, you fail the test, who has the right of way at intersections, do it wrong you fail the test, wide left turns, narrow right turns, 3 point turn, parallel parking, changing lanes, you cannot honk without proper reason, mess any of these and you fail the test.........Oh what, what wouldnt I give to drive the way I want and honk my head off if I want to? Anything!!!
What wouldnt I give to just jump out of my house onto the street and visit my neighbour? to lean over my compound wall and have a chat with the cute little girl next door? visit my granny living next street when I felt like it? hop onto our car and order the driver to take me around? call up and take an auto in case the car is not available? buy stuff at the stationary on an empty pocket and promise to pay later? call up the boutique and ask them to keep the outfit reserved for me? refuse lunch and fuss around and have amma asking me what else would it be that I wanted her to cook for me? leave all the dirty dishes and the cleaning up for the maid? order my brother around? get into an aurguement with amma or appa? fool around with my cousins and some of their cute kids?............Anything!!!
What is it that I have at home that I dont have here? freedom, treatment of a first grade citizen, my near and dear ones, the feeling that I am home and a sense of belonging.
What does the future have in store for me here? Will I be able to achieve my goals? How much will we be able to earn and save at the end of it all what with most of the earnings sucked away as taxes? Will my kids grow up the Indian way as I would like them to or will they grow up to be the Non Residential Indian Confused Desis?............I dont know.
What I do know is when the time frame that we have in mind is up, which is not anytime in the near future, me and Nish will fly back home and settle down there for a peaceful retired life......What come may!!!
So much for the so called pomp and glory of the west!!!
BTW, I do have alternate plans for my career that I am slowly working on and the sweet nothings still continue:)