Parenting Stories (and more) from the desk of an imperfect parent
I was always scared of getting lost
Even when I didn’t know where I was going
Then I came alone with myself to Kumbh
A dip in the holy water
What I held close to myself, calling it me
Slipped out of my grasp into the flow
First my doubts, then my fears
Soon my longing, my thoughts
All washed away in the cool waters
Now I am neither alone, nor scared, nor myself
I feel a part of everything and everything as a part of me
I lost myself to find that there is no Me
There never has been
All Moms sleep with their senses wide awake (referring to the six sense organs). Even when we are sleeping, we can count the number of whistles swooshing out of the pressure cooker. We can smell the gas leaking. We can feel the temperature dropping or rising and we can even dictate coherent instructions to close doors, switch off lights or keep the volume low, while we are deep asleep. God knows, if we did not learn this hack, we would not manage to get any sleep at all. Needless to say, our better halves did not need this skill so their senses happily retire to bed along with their body.
It has been my morning routine to wake up Yog and send him to school for all the years he has gone to school. We are well tuned to each others routine and even though we have our morning struggles, these struggles are also as rhythmic as the seasons of the year.
Last week, I signed up for an early morning Yoga class for 4 days. This meant that I woke up Yog and then left for my class leaving him to attend to his morning chores by himself. Pavan, like a good father tried to play Mommy on these mornings. He just didn’t realize he did not have the evolved senses that a Mommy needs to have.
One morning, I woke up Yog for school and left for my class. Pavan was sleeping soundly at that time. Suddenly, in the middle of his deep sleep he could hear a child crying loudly. The sounds were muffled as if coming from somewhere far away. He woke up with a start. It took his mind a few seconds to process the situation. He then rushed out of our bedroom searching for Yog. Yog was not in his room or living room or any of the bathrooms outside. The muffled crying sound continued to in the house. Pavan panicked further and rushed to follow the sound of the crying. It lead him back to our bedroom and towards our bathroom. The water was running and the cries ringing loudly inside. He paused outside our bathroom door trying to decipher the mysterious notes. Few sleepy seconds later he realized that Yog was singing to himself loudly while taking his shower in our bathroom.
Imagine the emotions which must have swept over Pavan at this time. He was so shocked and relived that he imprinted this moment in his memory and for the rest of the day went about narrating the incident to whoever had the time to listen morning stories of a Dad. Of course, everyone at his office had a good laugh about it! How do I know about this story? Because, Pavan narrated it to me, in these exact words, late in the night after he was back from office. I could see pride, love and relief dripping from his words as he recounted the story for the nth time for me.
When Daddy holds the story so dear, it is only apt for Mommy to pen it down so it goes down our memory lane together.
Oh! One more detail before I forget! All the days when I was not there, Yog offered to make coffee for Papa before he left for school. Daddy playing Mommy for Yog and Yog playing Mommy for Daddy!
I am blessed!
Cheers to the two wholesome boys in my life. May you continue to watch out for each other long after you need each others support!
As days got busier, my home got fuller with minute invaders settling down comfortably on windows, walls, kitchen racks and shoe cupboards. Every time, I saw one or more of them, I was reminded of my failure to keep my home in order. An ant in my baking flour looked me in the eye and told me I was not a good baker. A spider just outside my entrance reminded me, I was not doing enough to keep my home clean. Fruit flies on the vegetable shelf silently suggested I was not managing my groceries well.
Sigh! So many voices constantly prodding me to judge myself. I had little choice left but to call in the Pest Control services. I had hoped for a peaceful annihilation of the invaders but I had not earned such a reward yet. The young technician from the Pest Control agency was a happy chattering lad. As soon as he entered my house, he enthusiastically wanted to engage me in a conversation about my pets. Sorry, Pests. Who are they? When do they come? Where do they come from? question? question? question?
Why couldn’t he see I did not want to talk about this? I was not going to admit I had been lazy to keep the dinner plates outside that night. I was not going to admit I had gotten so busy that I was not getting time to take care of my own home. I was not going to admit I was close to a mental breakdown. So I told him, “They are everywhere. They come in all the time from the garden into our home”. As he busied himself killing all of them, my heart sank at the carnage I had ensued. He sprayed the whole house for over an hour.
As he was leaving, he said, “Ma’am, yours is one of the cleanest homes I have seen! There is not a single cockroach any where to be found! You maintain it quite well! Congratulations!” I averted my gaze and quickly closed the door on his face. I did not want him to see the tears in my eyes. I did not want him to know how much I needed this assurance right now. I scrubbed the whole house for the rest of the day. hoping to cleanse my mind of the negativity that had made room inside of it.
Slowly settling down in a cleaner home, I realized that even though my home was now clean, my mind was still in a mess. It had simply moved on to other problem areas to focus on. College applications, guitar classes, Marathi lessons, garden organization, Diwali preparations, dentist appointments, website upgrades, tax filing, bank accounts. If I kept counting, the list could extend till the moon and back. I realized that in the past this endless list used to sit happily in the parking lot of my mind. But for some unknown reason, since I started working, this list started to constantly run around in my mind telling me there was not enough time and I was not being a good home maker, wife, mother, daughter, professional and Self.
So I did the only thing I know to do in such circumstances. I spent time praying, meditating and asking my Guru to clean the pests in mind. I asked for acceptance to be me. I asked for forgiveness for judging myself to the point of insanity. I asked for unconditional love for myself and for the world (including all the pests as long as they stay out of my home).
I write this blog as a reminder to self that there are days when we seem to lose it all, not because we have lost something, but simply because we have changed some gear of our life and the car is trying to readjust to the next speed of driving. At this new speed, life chugs, smokes and sometimes even halts for a moment. But as long as we know the speed at which we want to drive, we can always get it back in motion and in a smooth rhythm to the road. Nothing is really lost, somethings have just changed. We need to accept the changes around us and perhaps change ourselves to align to the new speed and the new road.
I know writing my feelings helped me release them out into the Universe. I hope reading my feelings helped you release some of yours into the Universe. I pray for peace for you with yourself and for me with myself. Om Shanti. Shanti. Shanti.
I was born a Pessimist. I was one of those, who did not believe in God or Love or being Happy. It just seemed easier to be sad than to be happy. There were a million reasons to be shit sad and I simply embraced all of them. I was treated for depression from early childhood till mid teens. In my early twenties, when my husband proclaimed his love to me, I am supposed to have asked him, “How do you define love?” Gosh! Who does that!?!.
The good news is that the above para is written in past tense. It is all over and way behind me. The only reason I look back is to see how far ahead I have come. So, how did I switch my car from a constant reverse gear to gear 1? One fine day, soon after my daughter was born, I decided enough was enough. I had to take charge of my life and turn it around. I decided from that day onwards I will only try and remember the good things that had happened to me and consciously erase all the bad. I started a beautiful diary and called it my Diary of Good Things. On the very front page I stuck a picture of my daughter. She was and I guess will always be the first best thing that happened to me.
From that day on, whenever I had time I pushed hard to recall good memories from the past – things that I was thankful for. The list of course included family but it was pretty random after that. It had mango trees, lemons, cotton dresses, my cycle and the like. Smallest of things that held a happy memory in the deep recesses of my mind. I had to dig so hard initially but slowly it started to become easier.
Whenever I was sad and wanting to loathe in self pity, I picked up the diary and the picture of my baby daughter always brought a smile to me even amidst my tears. Reading the next few pages helped me stop my car from going into reverse again.
Looking back, I consider my diary as my starting point of moving forward in life. Over weeks and months, the Universe probably picked the signal that I was no longer looking for grief and started giving me more positive things in life. I started believing in God, in Love and the possibility of a Happy Life. It was a few years later that I started my blog. I think my blog is also an extension of my diary, a constant reminder to myself that life is so beautiful, so miraculous and completely what I choose to create. Over years of writing, one blog at time, first about my daughter, then about my son, I am now at a stage I can write about myself.
Each day, when I look at the overwhelming amount of blessings I have received, I cannot help but thank the stars for that day I decided to turn my life around and for my daughter who gave me the biggest reason to believe that I was good enough to receive as beautiful gifts, as her. I know, we don’t look eye to eye most days, these days but hey! that’s a new phase of motherhood as well. This phase too, has been a gift for me to discover myself, unlearn a bit and learn lots more.
I am just in my early forties right now. God knows how much more I am still to learn, to grow and to be thankful for. Cheers to a life full of blessings and cheers to my daughter who made me see that I was truly blessed.
They say, I am not the mind, I am not the body
They say, I am the soul
I am the Universe
I am the God Itself
But how do I know when I have not seen God ever
I have not even seen the whole Universe
How do I know what they say is true
I see me as me
I see them as them
I see the ant
I see the leaf
I see the sun, the land, the clouds, the unlimited expanse
It is not me
It is outside of me
How can it be me
How can I be all of it
I love someone
I dislike a few others
How can they all be me
How can I be all of them
They say I am the Universe
They say I am God Itself
But how do I know
Each day, I try to see me as part of them and them a part of me
But I still see the ant different from me
I still see the leaf withering and dying
I did not die with it
So how can it be me or me, it
How?
I still don’t know
I spent lifetimes not knowing
Then, one day, I woke up and I knew what I had known all along
I am the Universe and the Universe is me
I am God Itself
This day onwards, I knew what was missing all along
It was not the knowledge
It was the experience of being one with the Universe
It was the experience of being the One
We know that we create our own life one step at a time, one choice at a time. It is not only the big choices like which career to pick or whom to marry which define us. But more so, the little choices like submitting our assignments on time or sharing our pocket money with someone in need that define us more. These everyday little choices define our character, who we are and how we operate. I have always been more or less carefree about my choices for my life. At the bottom of my heart, I know I have the wherewithal in me to see my choices through.
But then, I have two little kids in my home for whom I need to make choices. Some choices involve small decisions and some choices involve big decisions. Small choices involve short term aspect of life like deciding if my kid ready for potty training or whether to let him sleep in with me, setting time limit to come home after play or what diet pattern to follow. Big decisions revolve around the long term life and mainly revolve around long term health and happiness like should we continue school or homeschool, should we get the cataract surgery or let the body heal itself, which career options to guide towards or whether to keep them rooted in one place or make them see the world. These decisions are based on the parents keen observation of the child and typically take months and years of thought and planning. Once the child is old enough, parents tend to discuss options with the child and take their lead but honestly speaking the final decision is the parents decision. Till the child turns 18, we, the parents, have the responsibility to make the right decisions for the child.
Do parents really know what is right? In fact does anyone know what is right? Being right or wrong is just a fallout of how well you followed through on your choice. Our choice to homeschool was considered wrong by the society in general, for years before the Pandemic set in. But since the mid of 2020, I get regular calls from parents trying to understand how to homeschool. So was the decision to homeschool right or wrong? My son has a congenital cataract and for a few years now we have been debating whether to get his surgery done. I have walked into the doctors office twice, ready to go for surgery and then walked out without getting it done. Each time the data against surgery outweighs the data for surgery.
The good thing is that my family supports my decision and I don’t care a hoot to explain my decision to the larger society. However, in the heart of a mother, I always wonder if I am making the right choices for my children. Should I, shouldn’t I? Of course, I discuss with my spouse, my family, experts in the field, google research, etc. etc. but the final decision is mine. I can’t shrug off the responsibility of my choices any day, any time. It is a heavy burden to carry and yet at the same time, not so heavy at all. When we decided to homeschool, people asked me, “What if your child grows up and blames you for ruining their lives?” They were right. Fortunately for me, a virus proved that I had taken the right decision. But then, there are so many decisions in life where you do not get proof that you made the right choice. You just learn to live with the choice and try and make the most of it.
In the end, I just want to write this for my children.
“I have made decisions on your behalf which I thought were best for you. I know that you may or may not agree with those decisions as you grow up. I just want you to know that I made those calls keeping you first, always. Each day of my life, I work hard trying to make sure that we are moving forward in our chosen direction. “
For other parents reading this,
“Being responsible for someone else’s life is perhaps the biggest responsibility one can hold. Treat it well.”
Yog and me took a few long Metro rides in Delhi recently. Somewhere during one such ride, there was an announcement on the intercom, warning men not to enter the Ladies Coach.
Yog wanted to know, “Mama, why is there a ladies coach in the train?”
“If any lady who is travelling alone, without any male member, feels unsafe, she can choose to ride in the Ladies coach.” was my reply.
Yog instantly put his next question, “So where is the Male coach?”
I had never thought about this so I just shrugged my shoulders indicating that such a thing did not exist.
This prompted Yog to dig deeper, “But, what if, a Man who is travelling alone feels unsafe, then where will he go?”
In my heart, I felt pride, love and gratitude to know that my little boy looked at the world as an equal playing field. In his eyes, he did not consider anyone weaker or stronger. All those emotions in my heart but I still didn’t have an answer for his question.
I kept quite for a while. I knew, Yog was still thinking about the Ladies coach.
Shortly, he asked me a follow up question, “What if a Lady is travelling with a small boy? How will the boy travel alone if the Lady goes in the Ladies coach?” I was thankful that I knew the answer to this. I said, “Ladies can take their young children with them into the Ladies coach.”
Thankfully, Yog did not ask more questions about the Ladies coach. Yog seemed to be content knowing that the children were safe with their Mommies. The men just have to figure out their way to travel without a dedicated Men’s coach.
All the Best to all the Men!
Until the next Q&A…
I was gifted these beautiful flowers by my most favorite person in the whole wide world. I am so thrilled to set these beauties on my dining table and walk by them to soak in their fragrance. Each time I see them, I am reminded of the abundance of love in my life and my heart fills with gratitude.
To talk about this favorite person of mine – She is beautiful, talented, compassionate and very bright! She always has my back and I can always count on her whenever I am in need. She is my best cheerleader and my biggest critic. She always challenges me to do better and she never gives up on me. Yes! you are right I am absolutely in love with her! She is Me. I am truly, madly, deeply in love with myself! As Kareena Kapoor says it, “Main apni favorite hoon!”
While I am in absolute bliss being in love with myself, I understand that most people face a dilemma while trying to find self love. Someone wise once asked me, “Why is everyone running after self love? Why can’t people give love unconditionally to others and not be focused on loving themselves? Wouldn’t the world be a better place if people loved others more than themselves?”
I believe, the reason we need to love ourselves before we love others is because we cannot hope to fill other peoples cup if our own cup is anywhere less than full? Today, my own cup is so full that it is constantly overflowing with love and gratitude. I have so much of both, inside me, that I cannot help sharing it with others. I love myself, my life and everyone and everything in it. Be it good or bad, ugly or beautiful, hot or cold, happy or sad. I love everything that is there in my life. I love my Guru, my family, my friends, my home, my broken down car, my maid, garbage cleaners, electrician, school teachers, and my florist. 🙂
I have been in love with myself since some years now. But this was not always the case. For most part of my childhood till just a few years ago, I was full of deep insecurities and constantly seeking love from others around me. It took me more than a decade of conscious work on myself to reach a state where I am thrilled to be me. I am no longer trying to be someone else. I am no longer trying to follow someone else. I am no longer trying to hide who I truly am.
This self love, doesn’t mean that I am perfect and I don’t need to learn and grow. In fact, quite the contrary. Because I love myself so much, I am constantly seeking ways on how to improve myself and grow myself towards achieving my chosen purpose. I have never been more focused, productive or generous ever before in my life. Most importantly, I have never been happier in my life.
In my heart, I sincerely thank all those who helped me reach this state of bliss and I hope I can share all that I have received.
I came across a post warning parents against sharing stories about their children on the internet. The post suggested that while parents find sharing updates about their children cute and funny, such posts might become a cause of embarrassment for their children in their later years. Since I blog about Yog all the time, this post caught my attention and I really wanted to know more.
According to the author of the post, one should do this final test before one posts anything about their child online. The test being, ask yourself, “In the future, how is this post going to effect the Presidential Campaign of your child?” As soon as I read this, I relaxed. If anything, all my posts about Yog are going to help Yog build his Presidential Campaign, if he chooses to run for President or Prime Minister or whatever title the world has in those days.
Besides being the cutest memoir for me for my old days, each post highlights the sensitive, mindful, grateful, logical, innovative and creative aspects of Yog’s character. According to me, no one is better suited to run the future world other than my darling boy! I know every mother thinks like that. But hey! I have many many many historical records to prove it too!
Give a thumbs up to this post, if you agree too! Who knows, Yog might end up using our votes long after you and me are no longer on this planet. 🙂
Human life is like waves. We peak, we crest, we fall. We go flat for some time, until the time we start to peak again, riding high on a new relationship, a new project or simply a new reward. With each new rising, we forget the last fall. We spread our wings expecting to keep flying higher and higher, expecting to keep receiving, expecting to be the best out of all. This is when we crest and we fall. While the rise is slow, steady and heady, the fall happens in an instant crash. Depending on how high we rose with the wave, the crash is pretty much equivalent, breaking our bones or shaking our core to the point that we forget the rising completely.
This is nature. What goes up has to come down. And yet, we forget.
For me, my quest for life is to be able to remember that human life is cyclic. Nature (Prakriti) is cyclic. As long as I am in human form, I will rise and I will fall. Can I remember the fall when I am rising? Can I remember the rising when I fall? Can I, one day, minimize the peaks and live in equilibrium? Can I, one day, eradicate the peaks and falls completely? Can I, one day, experience that I am not the wave in the ocean but the ever expansive, unlimited ocean itself.
So yes, this is the fight inside me every time I am riding high on a wave. It is the pull inside my heart reminding me the rise is only temporary, the fall is coming up just ahead. It is the fight inside me telling me not to lose hope when I fall cause the rise is just around the bend. It is the fight inside me not to search for rewards and acknowledgements but to dissolve completely in living life each moment.
As I study Vedanta and try and understand the gist of life, there are times, I tend to step back a little from life viewing the wave for what it is, trying not to get caught up inside of it. But then there are times, when I forget, I rise and I fall.
Signing off until the next rising.
Shilpa Roy Kota 