Ho Ho Ho......

"I once bought my kids a set of batteries for Christmas with a note on it saying, toys not included."
- Bernard Manning

Earlier this week, I heard my husband opening the connecting door between the garage and our house and call out to the kids. The hushed excitement in his voice made me look up from my customary seat on the couch and crane my neck to see what he was holding in his hands. The kids swarmed to him and started jumping up and down looking at the long red package he had. My curiosity got the better of me and I too walked up to them just in time to see them rip open the package and spill the contents out. Lo behold, it was a Christmas Tree.

Christmas period has always been my favourite time of the year. At school, the end of half-term always coincided with Christmas holidays and despite the exams around that time, the school atmosphere was always festive and celebratory leading to the Christmas pageant. Besides in the Hindu culture that I was raised in, this month had a deep religious significance wherein most of the young girls in the neighbourhood would actively showcase our skills in Rangoli - the traditional decorative Indian art. So the month of December has always been associated with some great memories for me - Christmas carols, Nativity play, Rangoli, temples and holidays.

Christmas downunder
After I moved to Australia, Christmas season became even more magical - the Christmas window displays and the lights in the city and the neighbourhood during this season has never failed to infuse me with such pleasure. Of course, the sales everywhere drawing people to spend more money in retail therapy was an added bonus. Work also got more relaxed during Christmas time - it is indeed a sluggish period with very little work done for most office-goers as people generally wind down this time of the year or get pre-occupied planning their shopping-lists and holiday trips. And then comes the much anticipated Christmas party at work where without fail, more alcohol and less inhibition always keep the gossip mills churning the most embarrassing moments of certain office legends till the next party.

But despite the festivity in the air during this period, in all my thirteen years of living abroad, Christmas was more of a spectator event. The tradition of gift-giving and its significance was totally lost on my husband and me. Despite the entire city in celebrations, there were several of us belonging to different religions, different ethnicities, different countries unable to participate or fit completely into the festivities of the mainstream culture. In the end Christmas season just became a holiday period for us more than anything else.

After the kids were born, I used to indulge in getting gifts for them on Christmas Day so they do not feel isolated or left out, when they came home with stories of Santa and Christmas gifts. Eventually this too had kind of petered out. I occasionally used to feel twinges of guilt remembering my own delight in celebrating festivals back home while my kids here were growing up with not much knowledge of their own culture nor that of their inherited one. Despite attending Indian community gatherings and activities organised for the Indian festivals, there was something vital and organic missing while we celebrated festivals outside of our homes.

A new tradition??
So this year when my husband walked in with a Christmas tree which is a first in all these 13 years, I looked at him quite surprised at his gesture. Amidst the excited chatter and delightful shrieks, I feel a slight prickling of tears at the back of my eyes and with a catch in my voice, I ask him "why"? He smiles and replies that the kids asked for it which I knew was not the entire truth. This year my 5 yr old had taken part in a Christmas concert at his daycare and so Anna was subjected to a choir singing every night. Mugi's own lisped rendering of the Christmas carols strengthened by the sweetness of Madhu's voice and occasionally thrown out of whack by my own out-of-tune contribution must have touched a chord in him - the familial atmosphere gladdening his heart. After the ups and downs we have had as a family this year, the simple delight in singing songs of joy during the festive season has managed to bring a sense of normalcy into our lives and perhaps it was his token of gratitude to the kids. Whatever his reasons were, we were all thrilled to have a Christmas tree in the house. Ever since that night, the kids have been writing long lists to Santa though I seriously pity Santa having to read my 5 yr old's mirror style writing :)

It is Christmas Eve and as I maneuver amidst the frantic crowds that throng the shopping mall for their last minute Christmas shopping, I see a myriad of emotions on display. Of course the scenes aren't picture perfect - disgruntled parents, grizzly kids, frayed tempers, tired employees but still beneath all this, lies the unshakable festive spirit that would see them back into the welcoming arms of their families and friends the next day.

Every culture/religion has its own major festivals breaking the monotony of everyday life and encouraging people to exercise more humanity and generosity by traditions of gift-giving and celebrations. But I guess the festival gathers its life-force only when celebrated in whole and not in isolation. Perhaps I should take the kids home during a festival to get in touch with their own roots. In the meantime I cannot wait to see the kids rush to the Christmas tree tomorrow morning and rip open their packages that my husband and I had wrapped after they had gone to bed - merry Christmas to all :)

The God complex.......

"You know the only people who are always sure about the proper way to raise children? Those who’ve never had any."
--Bill Cosby, Fatherhood

Child of the 20th century !!!

I am a child of the 20th century......in our growing up years, most kids from my generation had a lot of things to be grateful for, especially the simple joys of childhood. Unlike the wired generation, our childhood days weren't influenced mightily by technology. We did not grow up with iPods or mobiles or the net, cocooning ourselves indoors with electronic entertainment. On the other hand, summer holidays usually saw us playing with the neighbouring kids on the streets - the usually deserted back streets filled with our raucous laughter and shrieks of delight. Even my usually over-protective parents never said no to the summer fever that usually gripped us once schools closed.

Usually during these jaunts when almost every single kid in the street used to be outdoors, I used to spy this little boy, several years younger than me, standing behind the wrought iron grill gates of his house, watching us with undisguised longing on his tiny face. Moved by the beseeching look on his face, some of us used to knock on his doors and request his parents to send him to play with us. His pleas even when coupled with our entreaties never made any difference, he was never allowed to play with us - the unruly and boisterous kids were considered to be a bad influence. Instead he was plied with more books and interesting toys and usually spent his holidays at his grandparents with hardly any kids around to break the monotony and loneliness of his childhood. The kid was very much under the thumb of his father - while some of us were experimenting in asserting our little rebellious self against our parents and building our quasi independent streaks, he grew up to be a very pliant and docile child.

Years later, with the wheels of time spinning faster than ever for some of us, we all went our separate paths. Most of us ended up moving overseas or working for huge IT companies away from home. As for me, I married and moved to Australia, placing several thousands of kilometers between me and home. Occasionally I used to hear tidbits about the kids I grew up with while I spoke with my mother or visited home. However, when my own trips back home became less and less frequent, the stories diminished too. I had completely lost track of this little boy(who apparently is no longer little), till recently, when my mother told me a few days ago, that he had flipped and lost his mind and was found to be a physical threat to his parents.

As I was sitting there digesting the news, dealing with the flashbacks my memory threw back at me, I could hear my mother rant about the misfortune of such a polite and well-mannered boy pushed to deteriorating mental health because of his domineering parents. I cocked an eyebrow at that talk - obviously my mother had forgotten her own role in molding my character :) Years ago I would have readily jumped to conclusions, willing to try any parent on the stand but today as a parent I force myself to see the two sides of the coin before I castigate any party.

The jury is still out on parents..........

Everyone seems to have an opinion of how others should raise their kids except for their own. It is easier to stand at the periphery and spout advices on how one needs to live or raise their kids, unfortunately what works for one does not necessarily work for another. Most parents live in dread of failure of their parenting skills; unfortunately we live in a world where every social problem is attributed to bad parenting - I guess I do not have to emphasize what huge albatrosses some of us have to carry around our necks, especially with both nature and nurture working against us. Some of my friends comment at times the projectiles coming out of their mouths and aimed at their kids eerily trigger feelings of deja vu......now why is that not surprising at all, after all some of us do emulate our own parents despite our best attempts !!!

Most parents strive to provide the best for their kids, some to the detriment of their own personal desires and aspirations, but yet not all of them are successful in raising good kids. My heart bleeds for my broken little friend who used to go around calling me sis - like the most delicious fruits subjected to worms, some of the sensitive and delicate minds are broken easily by complex phenomenons of this life; and yet at the same time my heart reaches out to those parents who are grappling with the aftermath of their parenting consequences and wondering where they had gone wrong. I know for a fact, that these hard-working and modest people have devoted their entire lives for raising their kids and yet somewhere along the way, by imposing their will on this kid, managed to unhinge him completely. No solace can be given to their grieving hearts; if parenting was a taught skill, these parents would have queued at the head of these lines with the sincere intention of giving their utmost best for their kid. Unfortunately it is not an art that can be learnt, most of us do it by trial and error keeping every single part of our body crossed hoping it works for us. While some are naturals at it, some struggle at it as being dropped in the deep end.

So am I preaching the tenets of parental catechism now??? I don't think so.......do I have any brilliant insights or answers to provide as part of this article; most likely not.........however what I would like to get across is despite our best intentions to do the best by our kids, we come under a lot of scrutiny and judgment. It is just not non-parents, but even other parents are quick to judge their peers because it is true, in some ways we have the capacity to make or break our kids. Perhaps we ought to take a step back, spend a few precious moments at this juncture and revisit our parenting styles and see if it works for the best towards our kids. Twenty years down the track, you do not want to be found guilty in the eyes of your kids.......or spend a life in remorse, waiting for that second chance that will never materialise.

If we insist on playing God with our kids, at least let us make sure it is a guiding and forgiving one .......rather than a judging or a denying God. Good luck !!!!