If I Should Have a Daughter

When Sarah Kay herself narrated this one !

Instead of “Mom”, she’s gonna call me “Point B.” Because that way, she knows that no matter what happens, at least she can always find her way to me. And I’m going to paint the solar system on the back of her hands so that she has to learn the entire universe before she can say “Oh, I know that like the back of my hand.”

She’s gonna learn that this life will hit you, hard, in the face, wait for you to get back up so it can kick you in the stomach. But getting the wind knocked out of you is the only way to remind your lungs how much they like the taste of air. There is hurt, here, that cannot be fixed by band-aids or poetry, so the first time she realizes that Wonder-woman isn’t coming, I’ll make sure she knows she doesn’t have to wear the cape all by herself. Because no matter how wide you stretch your fingers, your hands will always be too small to catch all the pain you want to heal. Believe me, I’ve tried.

And “Baby,” I’ll tell her “don’t keep your nose up in the air like that, I know that trick, you’re just smelling for smoke so you can follow the trail back to a burning house so you can find the boy who lost everything in the fire to see if you can save him. Or else, find the boy who lit the fire in the first place to see if you can change him.”

But I know that she will anyway, so instead I’ll always keep an extra supply of chocolate and rain boats nearby, ‘cause there is no heartbreak that chocolate can’t fix. Okay, there’s a few heartbreaks chocolate can’t fix. But that’s what the rain boots are for, because rain will wash away everything if you let it.

I want her to see the world through the underside of a glass bottom boat, to look through a magnifying glass at the galaxies that exist on the pin point of a human mind. Because that’s how my mom taught me. That there’ll be days like this, “There’ll be days like this my momma said” when you open your hands to catch and wind up with only blisters and bruises. When you step out of the phone booth and try to fly and the very people you wanna save are the ones standing on your cape. When your boots will fill with rain and you’ll be up to your knees in disappointment and those are the very days you have all the more reason to say “thank you,” ‘cause there is nothing more beautiful than the way the ocean refuses to stop kissing the shoreline no matter how many times it’s sent away.

You will put the “wind” in win some lose some, you will put the “star” in starting over and over, and no matter how many land mines erupt in a minute be sure your mind lands on the beauty of this funny place called life.

And yes, on a scale from one to over-trusting I am pretty damn naive but I want her to know that this world is made out of sugar. It can crumble so easily but don’t be afraid to stick your tongue out and taste it.

“Baby,” I’ll tell her “remember your mama is a worrier but your papa is a warrior and you are the girl with small hands and big eyes who never stops asking for more.”

Remember that good things come in threes and so do bad things and always apologize when you’ve done something wrong but don’t you ever apologize for the way your eyes refuse to stop shining.

Your voice is small but don’t ever stop singing and when they finally hand you heartbreak, slip hatred and war under your doorstep and hand you hand-outs on street corners of cynicism and defeat, you tell them that they really ought to meet your mother.

http://ohsarahkay.tumblr.com/b

Change in co - ordinates !

It was the summer of 2015. With immense anticipation of dwelling in various places and understanding their cultures, little did I know when it would really happen this time, my heart would be filled with an invincible void.

End of Bangalore chapter. The new venture seemed so irresistable, so exciting, but what I was leaving behind was an integral part of my own. Seven long years. I have a zillion experiences - to moon and back. I stepped in this land as a little girl right out of grad school, when Sasken happened to me. Ten girls in a batch of forty, nine were from the Southern part of India. This was a good thing I later realized. I cribbed some days about the change in food, arguing that rasam is not an edible thing, it is a synonym for a 'custom' and how on earth could people differentiate between rasam and sambhar, if at all. Not knowing curd could ever be eaten with rice, not knowing sambhar could be eaten everyday, just as daal. My friends were adorable. Patient. They were friends - they took nothing to their hearts. That was when I fell for this land. Their simplicity permeated my soul, and left me spellbound.  And I fell in love with the food here. I ate curd rice and admired it in front of them. And in fact I liked it. Winning the hearts of the world around me was more important, and curd rice ain't bad anyway! Everyone had a story to narrate, and I was no way letting curd rice or rasam draw lines between us. Distances, cultures and food are never a hindrance, as long as you could configure your brain that way. We are inherently programmed to feel superior about our own culture. But the boundaries remain undefined. They begin with the neighborhood house in your hometown, and extend to your neighborhood cities, states and then to the nations across. The next door aunt in your hometown has a completely different way (and taste) of cooking any cuisine you could probably think of, how on earth would the cook in a different state be inline with your choices. The expectation itself was irrational. The Bangalorean friends used to invite us on various occasions and their mums used to treat us with such love and hospitality, I wish I could explain. They used to give us flowers on departures. I failed to see guile in their eyes, what I saw was a world beyond the world-wide-web, and I fell for the place again, I re-iterate! Kannadigas are the nicest people I have ever met, I still mention it somedays. From induction trainings to picnics, we were bonded together, forever. We played TT for hours together in Sasken and darted back to our cubicles when the HRs grumbled at us. We grew, we evolved, marched the streets of Bangalore, changed workplaces, met new people, made new friends, studied hard, teased each other harder, learnt to manage time. Time flew. I learnt to take a closer look at the world. I learnt to discern - when to connect, when to disconnect, how much and with whom, when to be noisy, when to be silent. In my stay here for the first five years, I met girls of almost all kinds. All kinds. Good, so good, bad, whatt, ohmygod. All kinds. Such lifestyles in this big bustling city. And I learnt not to make an awe face at their tantalizing ideas, I learnt not to explode.

I learnt the technology I once coveted for, burnt my hands treading the path, but I wasn't complaining. My discretion threatened to abandon me, got me thinking if all my definitions were miserably incorrect. I brimmed with annoyance and marveled at my own capacity to be patient, dismissed the ideas of holding on, made mistakes, fought, laughed, giggled, punched, fell down, got up, ate, sang, wore nail colors, took pictures. I have had my share of sorrow and joy. I evolved. I did. And the wise men consistently encouraged me. Then one day, Qualcomm happened to me. Needless to say, the ecstatic scream of joy that followed next, is difficult to be framed in words. But then, this was a tough decision. There were a few more doors open. One in Gurgaon, close to my hometown and others in Bangalore itself. It took me some good time to decide that the co-ordinates must be changed. Change is the order of the day. Change is inevitable. And blah blah blah. But true. So damn true.

It was decided. Signed. But my mind refused to conceive the idea of moving the entire paraphernalia to a new city altogether. I had people in Hyderabad - relatives and friends. My own. Very own. I would get to dwell in a new city, see new people, visit new roads. Good thing. My mind knew it, wanted it, but refused to synchronize. I kept telling people I know not where I would finally join. They thought I were concealing. There were friends who refused to believe either. Pratibha wasn't around. She was in the UK for business needs, and kept calling every night, night after night, after knowing we would soon part. Love her for who she is. Sony almost got angry at me. Revisiting the times we had spent together, and with Geetha and Rashmi, it was an awful idea to part. We marveled at those evenings when we booked the badminton courts after office hours, went for swimming, or I should call it floating instead ! Those early morning get-up get-up calls for the aerobics classes and later devouring aaloo parathas with a teaspoon of butter! No, with a tablespoon of butter. Rashmi had left a couple of months ago, and there was already a void. We used to miss her this that !@#$%^ :) Sony stayed right next to my house. My dinners were arranged at her house ever since she became aware of the new co-ordinates. We remembered the endless hilarious conversations revolving around sentiyapadotcom in our night walks in the colony. Despite the ridiculous fact that she has spilled buckets of tea on my bedsheets and has blamed me each time SHE did it, and has crossed all defined limits of keeping her feet on my washed bundle of clothes kept on the bed over and over again, I find myself missing her. (After she has read this statement, my inbox will overflow with encrypted abuses). Thank you sweety, you have been a part of me. Geetha is a different kind. Lovable as she is, you could ask her for any help any time. She remains grounded both in the highs and lows (and doesn't comprehend jokes). Spectacular trait ! Jasneet was a little shocked too, and so was Vani. Vani is a pure soul. Respect. Selfless. I so admire her for who she is. Jasneet knew the whole of it when it was not even finalized, but when it happened, she groaned at the idea. She has her own ways of doing things, her own mood swings. She made collages and posted pictures in public as a token of remembrance. This was her platinum chance to put the pictures in which she looked good even if I looked like a UFO :D I told her I looked ugly, but in vain ! All this followed by a beautifully camouflaged dramatization. But the beatings evaded her :) I thought I could gift wrap her and take her with me. So sweet, my heart was almost sinking with all of these gestures from these partners in crime. A friend asked me to goto hell for taking such a decision and another one hanged the phone. My college friends here poured gallons of apnapan, as if I was going to another galaxy. I couldn't catch up with them though :( There were more episodes. I wanted to stay back. But I also wanted to move on. Move on to walk the new roads.

Sasken, LG, Radisys. From protocol stacks to mobile applications and back. It was so tough, it was tiring. But I have in my basket some extremely good features on a cutting edge technology. It was tough, but it was worth. Yes I think it was worth. It was a hot chocolate cake. It wasn't easy to work on the difficult side of things while doing MS (and doing good in MS) , but the difficult me kept asking for difficult things. There were easy cakes available, available with wine, and I was asked if I wanted one of those, but that did little to deter my single minded love for picking the tricky one. I am glad I did. And did it decent. And got nine plus grades is MS too. I used to tuck into my bed real late; and would remember those sleepless nights for long - doing assignments, reading MS lessons and pitching myself to rummage around the internet - walking through the transmission modes, DCI formats and RA types, MCS and RB allocation nuances, CQI and SINRs, transport blocks and codewords, new transmissions and re-transmissions. It was all so good. The HR director spoke good things while I bade her adieu. They do on farewell notes. 'I want to see you flying very high. Your place isn't here on the ground.' I was amused, and after about 5 seconds, I was no more amused. She wasn't either. I kept myself intact. But I was again amused later :D

I stay in Hyderabad now. The social networks have their own set of advantages (and disadvantages). Friends in Bangalore starting messaging cheesecakes, and friends in Hyderabad extended generous helping hands. A school friend of mine appeared from nowhere, and was a great great help. Adorable! Another school friend is coming back soon. School friends (and let me also mention college friends, lest they abuse me) are like your own family - every one knew everyone's parents, siblings, percentages, crushes, favorite food, everything. You talk after like eleven twelve years, and it is still okay to talk shit. And have that respected. You give and take advices, wrapped with thick coats of authority. Human nature ! I am infact looking forward to their company and conversations. And the new work place is full of known faces, as if nothing much has changed. The world is a small place. A beautiful place. The new roads look good. I'm so sure they'll blossom. The grey skies in Bangalore promised showers, but the moonlight here looks good too ! I'm still settling down, still on the high.Variety is the very spice of life, that gives it all its flavor !

The scourge of racism !

Here is a very beautiful article penned by Ravi Zacharias, instilling values and transcending generations.

The news has been abuzz with the pathetic racist comments by the owner of the Los Angeles Clippers, Donald Sterling.  His prejudice has cost him not just in monetary terms but also the privilege of ownership in the world of sports.  It will be left now to the lawyers to fight it out, settle and walk away with probably more than it would have cost him to pay off the blackmailer.  We live in a strange world of dollars and nonsense.
What a tragedy that a man of his stature and wealth not only believes such things but verbalized them, making matters worse by voicing them in front of those whose only interest in him was his stature and his wealth.  Prejudice and bigotry is a cancer within and when the wound is opened, it is even more deadly because the “physicians” who expose the cancer want it to be terminal.
I come from a land where there were and are equally such prejudices.  Those from the north of India tend to have lighter complexions and different habits to those from the south.  I hail from the south of India but was raised in the north.  On more than one occasion I remember as a youngster being derided because I was from the south with words that don’t belong in respectable articles.  But even now, as I travel back there often, I see bumper stickers on rickshaw drivers that are shocking, including pronouncing curses upon people who “look” upon them the wrong way.  I thought of quoting at least one of them here but they are frankly so crass that I couldn’t bring myself to do it.  I have, though, translated them for friends when we see one in front of us, and they are aghast.
I look at such a man driving an auto-rickshaw for a living, sun-burnt himself but pronouncing curses upon others because of their complexion.  I pity him.  I pity him because he is uninformed, uneducated, socially marginalized, weak in his thinking capacity, and apparently the only way he can flex any muscle is by cursing others.  He can almost be pardoned because he lives in a dark world with no light to help him see any better.  He is inherently weak and the bumper stickers are his only strength.
But a billionaire with all the knowledge of hate from the past and the need to look towards a future of civility and law, and yes, love for our fellow human beings…how did he get trapped in a dungeon of prejudice?  Incomprehensible!  Except when we put the human heart under a microscope can we see why.  I remember once talking to the famed Joe Gibbs when he moved from being the iconic coach of an NFL team to owning a NASCAR team.  I asked him how he made the switch from one sport to another one so drastically different in the skills needed.  His answer was quite instructive.  “They both have one thing in common—the depravity of man,” he said.

He was right.  Right from the beginning of creation, hate and segregation came into the first family.  A brother hating his brother.  Why?  Because he seemed more sensitive to God.  Imagine that!  You see, hate and eviction come not just because of race.  They can come because of race or place or face or grace.  Racism is not just a white versus black issue.  We make a cardinal mistake pitting two colors against each other.  Go to Asia and see the regional hate and discrimination, the religious hate and discrimination, the social/economic hate and discrimination.  It is ultimately the passion that seeks to bring down somebody else and justifies its self-superiority by finding a reason to do just that.
This very week, an African American politician referred to Justice Clarence Thomas as an “Uncle Tom.”  When a news reporter questioned this characterization, his justification for using it was his race. I respectfully disagree.  Few abuses of the soul are more dangerous than those that legitimize hate by grabbing a twig of history and thinking they have grasped the root of revenge. You do not right a terrible wrong with an insatiable spirit of perpetuating vengeance.  So he was dead wrong.
I remember being in Sidon, Lebanon, some years ago.  I was introduced to a man who had a daily habit.  Every day he would take his little boy up a hill.  He would point over the border and tell his son, “Your duty in life is to kill as many of them on the other side as you can.”  I couldn’t believe what I had just heard. He could never shut the gate on the past and so dragged the carcass of historical prejudice and draped that corpse over the shoulders of the next generation as a reminder to continue the carnage.  What chance for peace does a young boy like that have?  He will grow up killing and slaughtering, all the while thinking that he is solving history’s problem.  He isn’t.  He is adding to it.  The logic of hate and unforgiveness perpetuates a lie and will destroy the possessor more than it destroys the victim.
Donald Sterling needs help.  Being fined and banned from the NBA is not the biggest price he’s paid.  The biggest price he has paid is within his own soul that thinks he is superior to other human beings.  That lie has eternal consequences. Color is no respecter of such inner deceptions.
I have one more thing to say on this.  The same media that despises and castigates and vilifies Donald Sterling because of his prejudice is the very media that bullied and mocked Tim Tebow because of his faith in God.  They are the Cains of the day who despise Abel. They doggedly derided Tebow and may have cost him his career because of their relentless prejudice.  How ironic.  They cling to a vicious bigotry of their own, which belies their sanctimonious pronouncements that castigate others. That is the masquerade that relativism continues to play, not realizing that hypocrisy is the unwitting compliment vice pays to virtue.  Our present political climate has thrived on hate.  The short-term gains are long-term losses for our country.  We have lived morally and spiritually the same way we have lived fiscally.  But the moral cliff is more perilous than the fiscal cliff because producing moral currency requires having truth on its side—not just a printing press.

So it is that we must ask the question, what kind of future do we want?  Do we want one where we penalize those that are prejudiced while retaining a selective sovereignty over our own prejudices? Or do we want a future where our children can learn to live and let live with civility, and remind ourselves that the love of God must be the impetus that drives us to love our neighbor and that the real scourge of a sinful heart must drive us to submit to the Savior.  Only in that forgiveness is there hope and the promise of a better day.  Banning Sterling from the NBA is putting a Band-Aid on a shattered bone.  The solution may work well for the cosmetic side of the game, but life is bigger than a game.
I find it ironic that as Jesus headed to the cross and was quizzed by Pontius Pilate, Pilate pitted every major prejudice the human heart exploits against Jesus: political, ethnic, and religious.  Is it any wonder that though Pilate asked the question “What is truth,” he never waited for the answer?  The truth was discomfiting to him, as it is in our time.  The truth is that Sterling needs a Savior, as we all do.  And so do all those who sit in judgment over him while being themselves the possessors of prejudice against the sacred.  In heaven, every race and tongue and tribe is seen in their beauty and splendor because we will see them through God’s eyes.
 

It was quite a plan !

 This is one of the many popular reads available all over the web and now seems to be floating in whatsapp. I so wanted to have it here, have it here forever. It no more disturbs me, but gets me thinking each time I re-read it !

 Satan called a worldwide convention of demons. In his opening address he
 said, "We can't keep the believers from receiving the Sunday messages. We can't keep them from reading the Gospel and knowing the truth. We can't even keep them from forming an intimate relationship with their Saviour. Once they gain that connection with Him, our power over them is broken."
 "So let them go to their churches; let them have their covered dish dinners,
 conservative lifestyles, but steal their time, so they don't have time to develop a
 relationship with the Creator."

 "This is what I want you to do", said the devil:
 "Distract them from gaining hold of their Saviour and maintaining that vital
 connection throughout their day!" "How shall we do this?" his demons
 shouted.

 "Keep them busy in the nonessentials of life and invent innumerable schemes to occupy their minds," he answered.
 "Tempt them to spend, spend, spend, and borrow, borrow, borrow."
 "Persuade the wives to go to work for long hours and the husbands to work  6-7 days each week, 10-12 hours a day, so they can afford their empty lifestyles."

 "Keep them from spending time with their children. As their families fragment, soon, their homes will offer no escape from the pressures of work!"

 "Over-stimulate their minds so that they cannot hear that still, small
 voice. Entice them to play the radio or cassette player whenever they
 drive. To keep the TV, VCR, CDs and their PCs going constantly in their
 home and see to it that every store and restaurant in the world plays
 non-biblical music constantly. This will jam their minds and break that
 powerful union with God."

"Fill the coffee tables with magazines and newspapers. Pound their minds
 with the news 24 hours a day. Invade their driving moments with billboards.
 Flood their mailboxes with junk mail, mail order catalogues, sweepstakes,
 and every kind of newsletter and promotional offering free products,
 services and false hopes."

 "Keep skinny, beautiful models on the magazines and TV so their husbands will believe that outward beauty is what's important, and they'll become dissatisfied with their wives. Keep the wives too tired to love their husbands at night. Give them headaches too! If they don't give their husbands the love they need, they will begin to look elsewhere. That will fragment their families quickly!"

 "Give them Santa Claus to distract them from teaching their children the real meaning of Christmas. Give them an Easter bunny so they won't talk about his resurrection and power over sin and death."
 "Even in their recreation, let them be excessive. Have them return from their recreation exhausted. Keep them too busy to go out in nature and reflect on God's creation. Send them to amusement parks, sporting events, plays, concerts, and movies instead. Keep them busy, busy, busy!"

 "And when they meet for spiritual fellowship, involve them in gossip and small talk so that they leave with troubled consciences."
 "Crowd their lives with so many good causes they have no time to seek power
 from Jesus. Soon they will be working in their own strength, sacrificing
 their health and family for the good of the cause.
 It will work! It will work!"

 It was quite a plan! The demons went eagerly to their assignments causing
 believers everywhere to get more busy and more rushed, going here and
 there. Having little time for their God or their families. Having no time
 to tell others about the power of Jesus to change lives. I guess the
 question is, has the devil been successful at his scheme?

 You be the judge! Does "busy" mean:
 B-eing
 U-nder
 S-atan's
 Y-oke?

Sweet Slumber !

 Photographer Anne Geddes has made an art form out of taking pictures of sleeping babies. Her photos evoke smiles. Nothing is a better image of peace than a sleeping child. But between naps and nighttime, caring for children is an exhausting and relentless responsibility. In their innocence and enthusiasm, children can get themselves into life-threatening situations in no time.

 After a hectic day of chasing, entertaining, protecting, feeding, dressing, guarding, guiding, and making peace between squabbling siblings, parents are eager for bedtime. After the toys are put away and the pajamas are put on, the sleepy toddler slows down, cuddles with mom or dad for a bedtime story, and finally falls asleep. Later, before putting themselves to bed, parents check on their children one more time to make sure all is peaceful in dreamland. The serene beauty of a sleeping child makes all the day's frustrations worthwhile.

Too often in our immaturity, we too get into trouble and cause conflict. Like parents of young children, God desires for us to become weary of wrongdoing and to rest in the safety and contentment of His loving ways. 

Tempting outside, toxic inside !

An Australian study concluded that plainer cigarette packages would make smoking less appealing to teens. In response, the Australian government introduced legislation that would require tobacco comapanies to replace color, logos, and promotional text on cigarette packages with health warnings and images of diseased lungs. In effect, the Marlboro Man would give way to the Grim Reaper in an effort to reduce the number of deaths caused by smoking. But cigarette packaging isn't the only thing that may be tempting on the outside with a toxic product inside.

The book of Proverbs urges us to carefully consider the long-term results of all our chocies. The recurring phrase "in the end" (5:4 , 25:8, 29:21) is a warning to look down the road and ask if what we're attracted to will ultimately lead to joy or sorrow, honor or disgrace, life or death. For the Lord gives wisdom; from His mouth come knowledge and understanding; He stores up sound wisdom for the upright (2:6-7).

The key to avoiding the tragic results of foolish choice is embracing His wisdom as our guide through life. Then we will understand righteousness and justice, equity and every good path (2:9).

The Daffodils !

Don't ask me why this title? I wonder why I kept it (and pasted a picture too), hence would fail to justify.
It was the August of 2013 when I first shifted to this flat here, knowing that Geetha stays just a mile away. Period. No rush in the adrenalin, but life was a better one here indeed.
A month passes and there is news. Sony shifts her house to the lane right behind the apartment I stay in. Whoaaa !  There are thoughts coming up. Geetha and Sony round the corner. Hmm, God is nice ;)
And this is not all. Rashmi rings up one day - I'm moving in your flat this weekend. Whattttt? So now there is Rashmi and Sony and Geetha, all in the vicinity. I am indeed flabbergasted. Could you ask for anything more?
It all happened within the twink of an eye, without a plan. Such a coincidence.
And then the story began.
Oh I'm so sleepy to update this beautiful story that has happened to us. It sure deserves a thoughtful narration of togetherness, before we all part to different places and stages of life ! Coming up soon, the nuances of the bigger picture ! :P