Shilpa Roy Kota

Parenting Stories (and more) from the desk of an imperfect parent

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  • Swachh Jeevan – 5 Rules of Handling Shit in Life

    For months now, I have been paying attention to how shit works. (One tends to do that, when one receives a lot of it in a short span of time) After careful observation and analysis. I have created these Rules/Reminders to better manage the shit coming my way.

    Rule No 1 – All normal, healthy humans carry shit in their gut most part of the day and night. So if you are feeling full of shit,  you have reason to celebrate! After all, it is a sign that your are perfectly healthy.

    Rule No 2 – Shit has to come out sooner or later – No one can store shit in their gut forever. If your mind and body are healthy,  you will tend to dispose it more easily than others who are not as healthy.

    Rule No 3 – You don’t have to catch shit someone throws at you – Human instinct tells us to always catch what is thrown at us (Often, in an attempt to throw it back to its rightful owner). Whenever you feel like catching someone else’s shit, remember you are not a dog. You have a choice to move away and completely avoid the shit altogether. Also remember, it is always easier to mop shit from the floor than from your own body.

    Rule No 4 – Shit attracts shit – The more shit you catch from others, the more shit you are likely to receive. After all, everyone is looking for ways to easily dispose their own pile.

    Rule No 5 – People only start throwing shit when they are too full of it themselves – Most healthy humans are capable of relieving shit, without overflowing with it. However, in some cases when the body produces more than it can dispose, they might end up spitting it on people around them. At such times, remember the problem is not with you but with them. They simply need help to clear their system.

    If you feel this is all bull shit, simple, don’t catch it. If you feel these rules make sense, think about them and add yours to the list. I will surely try and remember them.

    With this, I think I have used the S**t words enough number of times to last my lifetime. I hope I don’t have to say it, write about it, throw it or catch someone else’s ever in my life again.

  • Do you Blame Life

    Some days life throws shit at us and we let that shit stink our clothes, body and souls.

    And then, there are days when life throws shit at us. We not only neatly catch it, but we also make dung cakes, package them and sell them at 100% profitability to those whom life has not gifted as much shit.

    Given these two scenarios, can we blame life in any way?

    First published on Facebook on October 25, 2014.

  • Why some Questions don’t have Answers

    These days, the most common word ringing in our small household is “Why?” Why is it summer? Why is it cold? Why is it dinner time? Why do we need sleep? Why did Akka pinch me? Why do we have to wear uniform to school? Why don’t you wear uniform to office? Why am I growing big? Why am I not growing big faster? Why does the Sun have to go to California? Why did you cook Lauki for dinner? Why did Papa got to Egypt? Why didn’t we go to Paris? Why, Why, Why…

    Honestly, even though I love questions from four year old Yog, it is time taking and nerve racking to answer all his questions with patience. And then, there are some questions that I don’t even have answers to:

    • Why Bamma (Grandmother) died?
    • Why did my hand come in the door? (resulting in 2 smashed fingers, 6 stitches and 6 weeks of bandage)

    This is how I attempt to answer, but my answers have a tendency to run in the grey leaving my words choked up in my throat.

    Why Bamma died? Because she was not keeping well

    Why was she not keeping well? Because she got an infection

    Why did she get an infection? Because she had an operation

    Why did she get an operation? Because she was not keeping well

    Why was she not keeping well? Because sometimes we fall sick

    Why do we fall sick? (I wish I could say that we fall sick because we don’t take care of our body. But God knows how much care Bamma took of not only herself but all of us. So why did she fall sick? This is where I run out of answers.)

    So I say, “Sometimes things happen that Mama cannot explain”

    Why Mama, why can’t you explain?

     

    Why did my hand come in the door? Because you kept your hand in the door and someone closed it

    Why did someone close it? Because they did not know that your hand was there

    Why did they not know? I was crying and calling to open the door. Why they did not hear me? Because the door was very thick. They couldn’t hear you

    Why was the door so thick? Some doors are thick and some doors are thin. I am not sure I can explain any better

    Why Mama, why can’t you explain any better?

     

    Yesterday, after a long day of work, I did not have the mental energy to fend Yogs’ stream of questions. So I delegated the task to Siri for the first time. Yog was super happy to talk to Siri. I was relieved to sit in silence for some time and listen to their immensely funny conversation. To start with, they discussed time, weather, and Egypt. Soon Yog came to the million dollar question, “Why did my hand come in the door?” Siri politely said, “I don’t think I have the abilities to answer this question.” Yog promptly replied, “Why don’t you have the atities to answer this question?” Siri said, “I am sorry Yog!”. With that Siri shut itself down and hid in the deep dark blackness of my phone.

    For a split second, I was happy to know that I was not the only one not able to answer Yogs questions. But the happiness was soon taken over by melancholy. Honestly, I, myself am struggling to accept the answer to these questions and therefore, don’t have the courage to explain the answers to Yog, at least not yet. The silver lining is that while I am almost to the point of tears each time I think of these questions, Yog is not emotionally attached to these questions. For him, these are just questions that need to be answered. As soon as,  someone can answer them for him, he will be freed from these questions and will happily move on to his next set of questions.

  • It took me 20 years to cross 100KMs

    I have been driving for more than 20 years but I have never driven more than 100 KMs in a day, ever before. Yeah! It takes time to sink in. TWENTY Years!!! Wow! Not even 100 KMs! OMG!

    I never crossed this number before because I simply didn’t care about this number before. My reason for driving was independence and mobility. I never cared about the digits on the speedometer or the odometer (yes! I had to google it to know what it is called!). I also have a loving, protective, caring and dominating husband who never let me sit behind the driving wheel whenever he was along. Honestly, I never cared to, either. I always had my hands full with kids in the back seat who needed nappy changes, snacks, milk bottles or simply my hand to hold for the majority of the drive. Years sped by like this. Before I knew it, I developed a sense of identification with the passenger seat. I automatically sat into it even when I didn’t have to. My sense of identification was so strong that when someone asked me if I could play the Driver role for a 300 km mountain ride, I chickened out. This was the first time I realized I was scared shit of driving long distance. I never had. I thought I never could. I almost believed I never wanted to.

    My inability to pick this role caused a few minor hiccups in the plan. I felt embarrassed. This incident got me thinking. Why did I believe that I couldn’t drive 300KM on mountain terrain? By then, I had 18 years of driving experience and no accidents on my record. I knew I was an experienced and safe driver. I decided that I would not let anything in the world to make me believe otherwise. I decided I will not remain satisfied being “A Passenger”. It is, after all, such a silly tag to carry with me, to my grave.

    So I resolved to overcome my fear of driving long distances. I started few hours at a time and eventually came to a day where I achieved the goal that I had set for myself not 100 KMs but 300 KMs in one day.

    I know it is a “No Big Deal” for those who have been driving long distance for years. But for me, it is a very big deal because it defines my latest attitude towards life. This achievement reminds me of a promise I have made to myself – I will never be scared of trying something that I have never done before. I have also promised myself not to be associated with comfortable tags like “Passenger” and challenge myself to higher roles.

    This is my small achievement and it cannot be complete without thanking the people responsible for making it happen: Below is my list of Thank You’s:

    1. Thank you Toyna – My lovely daughter who constantly gave me company in the front passenger seat, feeding me and playing just the right music to keep me focused
    2. Thank you Yog – My notorious son, who for the first time in his life, sat comfortably in his car seat without demanding to sit in my lap
    3. Thank you Nanna – My doting Father-in-Law who trusted me with his car (and his life)
    4. Thank you Pavan – My protective husband, for choosing to be absent in this drive 😊

    Closing Note to all dear Husbands – I understand that by choosing to be in the driver seat, your intent is to bear the load and protect your family. But honestly, the only way to protect anyone in the long term, is to make them capable enough so that they don’t need you by their side. I had no reason to be scared of driving long distance. But I was, just because I was never exposed to it. The next time you travel, encourage your wife to steer the car. While you are sitting in the passenger seat, reach back to hold your child’s hand and play some games with them. I am sure, you will sleep happier knowing that your wife can steer the car well in your absence. Believe me, your wife will sleep happier knowing that your kids will feel safe and happy, even in a long drive, in her absence. Cheers to many more long drives together!

  • Reasons to Love

    If you are looking for a reason to love, it ain’t love, my dear!

  • Small Thinking

    We take pride in calling 4 walls our home, when we have the whole universe as our abode

    We identify ourselves with our body, when the entire ecosystem is a part of us

    We constantly carve boundaries differentiating between them and us, thinking we are growing bigger with each smaller piece we carve out for ourselves

  • One box, One Cupboard, One Step, One Day at a Time

    When Amma passed away, a few months ago, there was a sense of overwhelm in the whole family. The feeling was justified because we had not only lost a loved one, but we had also lost someone who had managed the entire house and a lot of aspects of our individual lives. Deep within, we all wondered how we would move on in life without her.

    For the first few weeks, each cupboard in the kitchen spooked me. There were so many boxes and bags that contained stuff I couldn’t recognize. I tried to decrypt the contents through touch, smell, taste and even neighbors advice but I wasn’t 100% successful.  I admit that I ended up trashing somethings which days later, I realized were very important. I washed somethings that water should never have touched. For now, I have given up and and left a few things for the next round of decryption. I figured it would be nice for Toyna and Yog to inherit some mysteries as well.

    After months, we have the house more or less functional at half its previous efficiency. Sadly, it is not only the stock of goods, the processes and the humans that are performing at half productivity; the machines of our house also seem to be missing Amma dearly. All of them seem to be breaking down one after another, in a vain attempt to indicate that they need better handling. In spite of multiple followups with service technicians, the smoke chimney, inverter and  a washing machine still don’t work, today.

    What does all of it mean? Where is the silver lining to these dark clouds?

    I see the silver lining in the fact that we have been through 3 months already. We are able to eat decent food, sleep for a couple of hours at night and manage school, work and household chores without a nervous breakdown. We are not doing as well as we were before, but with practice and commitment we will get there one day.

    What I have learnt through this experience is that when life seems too scary like my kitchen cupboards, we should not panic. As long as we pick up one box in one cupboard at a time, we will, one day, have the kitchen (aka our life) organized and functional.

    In normal circumstances, we always work with goals and deadlines in mind. I have learnt that under extreme circumstances when we don’t even know where to start, we should never think about the end result and a deadline to achieve the same. When the end result seems so far, thinking about it doesn’t help at all. As long as we pick one box in one cupboard, each day, we will have our life sorted out some day. Till then, whenever we miss the right oil or the right pickle in our food, we try and replace it with the love of the family who is still sitting down together on the table.

    That’s my silver lining and I hope it helps those who are or have been through a similar loss like ours. Feel free to share your silver lining.

  • Stepping into Mama’s Shoes, Literally

    Toyna rushed down from the steps exclaiming in a “No big deal” kind of way, “Mama, I am wearing your Pajamas today!” I turned around to look at her. Indeed, she was wearing my dark green pajamas! My reaction, “Huh! But why? Where are your own pajamas?”
     
    Honestly, this isn’t the first time she has slipped into my wardrobe. She has been doing this for ages now. But till now, she had always either asked my permission to borrow something or hid from me the fact that she took something from my room. Essentially, till now she had considered my things as my property. But today, she crossed that line effortlessly. While I knew this day was coming, I didn’t actually know how to react to this violation of my property.
     
    Over the last few years, I have been a quite spectator to disappearing bottles of nail paints, sticks of kajal and odd items from my collection. The first few times I searched all over to trace them back. Now, I just go rummage through Toynas cupboard and retrieve them in whatever shape they are. She knows that I know, but we both never talk about it. Because, even if we do talk, I know she will deny trespassing into my territory.
     
    With each passing year, list of things disappearing from my room keeps getting longer. The other day, I was searching for sanitary napkins and realized I was all out. I let out a sigh and muttered under my breath, “At least tell me when you are taking the last one out, Lady.” A few days back, Pavan complained about his disappearing socks. I immediately turned to look at Toyna and got the “no big deal” look from her. She told me to my face, “All your socks have vanished, so I help myself to Papas socks now.” Pavan is at least a foot taller than me and his foot size is maybe double of mine. How Toyna can so easily switch between my socks and his will always remain a mystery to me!
     
    As parents, we definitely feel a deep sense of pride at seeing our children grow into our socks and shoes. But sometimes, just sometimes, I have this urge to lock my room and save my stuff. But then being a fair, God fearing, mother I decided an alternate route. Now, when I go shopping for myself, I make sure I shop the same things (appropriate for Toyna’s age) for her. This double shopping did help for a few months, but I have realized that it doesn’t necessarily have to stop Toyna from still peeking into my things.
     
    I have finally decided to keep the doors of my wardrobe and my heart open so that Toyna has free access to them. The only regret is that while she comfortably fits into my things, I can never even imagine fitting into hers. My solace lies in the fact that while my daughter continues to rampage my wardrobe, I can continue to rampage my moms, mom-in-laws, sisters and sister -in-laws wardrobe. I guess, I don’t really have such a bad deal at hand.

     

  • Happy Teachers Day to my Children

    As soon as I got home from office yesterday, Toyna ran to me, hugged me and said “Advance Happy Teachers Day!” I was surprised to hear this. Sensing my hesitancy to accept the title of a “Teacher”, she quickly exclaimed, “You taught me how to walk, how to say my first words. You still teach me how to eat food properly. ” She then paused, waiting for my reaction. I was not totally convinced, so she quickly added to her argument, “Our family is always our first school.”

    I smiled at this and my heart warmed up. I accepted the wishes with a “Thank You Toyna!!” and a big hug.

    Though I accepted the title of a teacher from Toyna, I honestly don’t consider myself a teacher for either Toyna or Yog. Maybe, my definition of a teacher is different, or maybe I don’t think I am as mature a person to handle the role of Teacher. In my heart, I so wish that she comes home one day and wishes me Happy Friendships day! I would love to be a friend that she loves spending time with, a friend whom she can confide her biggest fears with, and a friend with whom she has spent some of her most fun times.

    Coming to being a teacher, I actually think, that both of them teach me a lot more about life, than I can ever teach them. Yes, I have taught them to walk, read and eat. But on the other hand, they are the ones who have taught me to live without any fears, to laugh like no one is watching and to smile till tears line up your eyes.

    So I guess, if Toyna was kind enough to think I was her teacher, I should return the same favor to her and wish her the same.

    Dear Toyna, a very Happy Teachers Day to you! You don’t know it now, but someday, when you read this, you will realize, how much Mamma learnt from you!

    First published on 5th September 2014. Still remains as true.

  • Power of a Guru

     

    I took out 3 hours on a working day to stand in the sun, next to a busy traffic junction, covered in cardboard. I am sure you must be wondering why a sane, educated, professional like me, would do something like this? I did it because I have faith in a single person and his message to save the rivers of our land. Along with a couple thousand more people, I believed in the importance of the cause and the urgency to stand behind it. But even more important than the cause, it is my faith in my Guru that called me to stand up for the cause. I was not the only one standing in the sun. I was joined by more than 6000 other volunteers, in my city, who believed that we need to support this cause. This is the power of Sadhguru.

    India has witnessed the Power of a Guru twice, recently. Once this power had the ability to kill 28 innocent citizens and burn down property worth crores. In the second instance, where I joined the movement, this power could raise the nation towards taking action to save our rivers. This power is immense and is vested in the Guru by his/her followers. Since the power is based on faith and trust, it is entirely up to the Guru on how to leverage the power – either for destruction or for creation.

    On 1st September, I felt extremely proud and happy to put my two cents of time towards saving our rivers. However, all along the day, there was a nagging feeling in the background. I constantly questioned how the followers of Ram Rahim felt after their actions. Did they feel pride? Did their Guru feel pride in them? Did they sleep peacefully knowing they had done their part? I was sure the answer was, “No”. No one can sleep peacefully after trying to burn their country down.

    Since I am a follower myself, I understand the emotions a Guru can trigger. But being a follower, are we so blinded by our love and faith that we place one Human (or God) over the lives and well-being of so many other humans? Which God or Guru would ever preach such form of aggression? Unfortunately, our human mind fueled by information shared on news and social media tends to only remember the atrocities inflicted because of faith. People easily forget the Good triggered by faith. They will, however, always remember and talk about the violence triggered by faith. While my adult, educated mind has the ability to filter information and form my own opinions, I fear for the naive minds of our next generation which are constantly recording the opinions of the (social) media. Incidents like the one in Panchkula will make them question Faith, Religion and above all, the Power of a Guru for a very long time to come.

    Along with saving rivers, I request all adult followers to also save their own free thinking.  Please do not be blinded by faith so much that you place one human above others, in any form. No faith will ever preach that.