Shilpa Roy Kota

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

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  • A Part of Me

    You started as a tiny cell deep inside me
    9 months of holding you inside; a part of me growing inside me
    1 year of holding you in my arms; still a part of me, outside me
    Few more years of holding your finger; still a part of me walking beside me
    Years of craving for enough room on the bed to sleep; still a part of me sleeping soundly beside me
    5-6 years of deep cuddles in bed when we feel inseparable once more; still a part of me connecting with me at the end of a long day
    8-9 years of shut doors; me waiting outside for that part of me to find me
    Decades of waiting at home for that part of me to come home to me sometimes
    Grown up children often say, “Why don’t you pick a hobby or a job to keep yourself busy? Why don’t you work for an NGO? No one can complete you! You have to try and complete yourself! “
    What can I say? They are parts of me, outside of me, trying to break their connection with me. And they are trying to teach me, how to complete myself!
    That’s the cycle of life I guess! I too, pushed my Mom away when I wanted to spread my wings. I too, coached my Mom on how to complete herself without me. I too, am a Mom myself today!
    That is the cycle of life! That is how it feels like to see a part of you, away from you, happy in their own world! And guess what, that’s the best feeling in the world for a Mom! No second thoughts about it.
    Cause, no matter where you are and how you feel, you will still be a part of me!

  • Cheers to Another Passing Day

    Times seems to stand still

    Time seems to go fast

    Time is relative to my experience of it

     

    Distance seems too short

    Distance seems so long

    Distance is relative to my experience of it

     

    When both distance and time are relative, how can I be finite limited by the boundaries they create for me

    How can they define when I get older or when I die

    How can they define who is close to me or who far

    How can they define where I was or where I am going to be

     

    Each passing day is my chance to go beyond the boundaries I have created for myself

    Each passing day  is my chance to love beyond the circle of my immediate family

    Each passing day is my chance to serve beyond the boundaries of my  4 walls

    Each passing  day  is my chance to pray for not just humanity or this planet but for the entire creation

     

    For I am the Creator to this Creation and each passing day I can choose to discover this truth

    Or I can choose to hide behind my fears, my dreams and my limited life

    Its not just Birthdays that call for a celebration but each passing day that I wake up and get the gift of another waking, healthy day full of possibilities

    Here’s to another Passing Day, another chance of meeting the Creator and another Blog to remind myself why I am here

  • Lamba Raasta

    Raasta lamba hai
    Baarish ka bhi anumaan hai
    Baadal gehre aur kaale mandara rahe hain
    Dostoon ka saath bhi choda hai
    Phir bhi dil main ek ummeed hai
    Kuch bhi kar lo woh tootti hi nahin
    Dooriyaan lambi hi sahi phir bhi kahin se judi to hain
    Baarishen geeli hi sahi, aankhon se nikli to hain
    Ek saal aur guzar gaya is raaste par chalte chalte
    Ek saal aur guzar gaya doston ki khushiyon main khush hote
    Ek saal aur guzar gaya hamein apne aap ko dhoondhte
    Raasta pooch raha hai, “ Kahin pohnche kya?”
    Raasta pooch raha hai, “Kahin Pohnche kya?”
    Hum is raaste ko kya samjhaayen
    Hum is raaste ko kya samjhaayen
    Kyunki hum jisse dhoondh rahe hain woh raaste par hai hi nahin
    Phir bhi hum Raaste par hi usse dhondte rahenge
    Kyunki jab tak hum bheetar nahin dekh sakte to baahar hi dekhte rahenge

  • Have and Have Nots of our Society

    I am passionate about working with children and I must say I have had the good fortune to be surrounded with them. I am also privileged to have had the opportunity to work with children from both sides of the divide; the divide between the Have’s and the Have Not’s of our society. On one hand I have been working with children of upper middle class families who go to the best schools in town. On the other hand, I have also been working with slum children who predominantly go to Government schools.

    I did not choose to work with either set. I would say they chose me or all of it has happened with Divine grace. I find myself blessed to be in this unique position which allows me to experience and understand how children learn and behave across the divide. Here are some of my takeaways so far.

    1. Rich kids or more appropriately children of rich parents (lets call one such child “Child A”) are exposed to many areas of learning be it in sports, arts, academics or even behavior (I recently came across classes which teach 5 year old how to communicate effectively). Child A often starts each class with enthusiasm but slowly loose interest and drops out, just like he would do with any new toy.
      Children living in slums (lets call one such child “Child B”) are exposed to very limited learning means. So when Child B sees someone wanting to help her learn, she jumps to the occasion and grabs it with both hands, teeth and nails so it doesn’t slip away from her.
    2. Child A has travelled extensively on family vacations and doesn’t get excited about anything new. I remember a Child A who exclaimed, “I am Bored!” while standing right in the middle of Disneyworld in Las Vegas.
      Child B has only travelled between the city and his village. He spends most of his holiday time lazing on the banks of a river and eating Kairi (raw mango). No one asks him if he is bored or having a good time.
    3. Child A needs external motivation in the form of points, rewards or peer pressure to keep him motivated to achieve goals set for him by his parents.
      Child B sets his own goals and has to fight with his parents to get time to work on his goals. Parents are already working hard and often seek help from Child B in household chores leaving him with little time to focus on his own goals.
    4.  Child A is often directionless way past her school years and parents take her to Career Counsellors and Therapists who can help her discover her goal in life.
      Child B is self directed and constantly searching for roads which can take him to his goal.
    5. Child A gets the best sourced food and is obese and disinterested in home cooked food.
      Child B is malnourished with rotting teeth and stunted growth.
    6. Child A is cute as hell and Child B is cute as hell too.
    7. Child A is addicted to screens. Child B is addicted to screens as well.

    Does Child A belong to the “Have” strata of the society? I am not sure because I don’t see him having motivation, self drive, resilience, emotional strength or right food habits (just to name a few things).

    Does Child B belong to the “Have Not” strata of the society? I am not sure because I see him possessing all the above that Child A clearly has lost.

    I am a parent of Child A and I often wonder how short sighted parents are. In making sure my child has everything that he needs (or more appropriately, what I think he might ever need), I have taken away so many things from him. I did so for my children’s happiness but looking at him, I cannot even say he is truly happy.

    In the end, even if my child tops the class and can play music and basketball like a pro, but he cannot share his pencil with his friend or sit quietly in peace with himself for more than 2 minutes, I will have to put my Child A in the Have Not strata of the society.

    I leave it for you to judge if this matters to you and if you are willing to provide to your child what she really ought to have.

     

    P.S. – For the parents whose children come to my class, please don’t take offence by thinking Child A refers specifically to your child. Believe me, all of the Have Not traits are common across most children in my class.

  • Birthday Month

    Yog is about to celebrate his birthday this month. I was feeling all mushy about it when I realized, he is just a few years short of having his own cell phone and his own social media accounts.
    It then struck me that for the first time in his life, he will realize that not only is his mother a self proclaimed writer but also that more than half her stories are about him.
    I have no idea how he will fee about his private life being paraded on public platforms by none other than his own mother.
    Whatever his reaction might be, mine is pretty much planned, “I don’t care! After all the papads that I have beloed for him over so many years, this is my birth right. Sorry Maternal right!!”
    So Yog if you ever chance upon this post in the future, remember your Mom is super proud of you and of the stories I have captured of you! Some people post pictures. I post memories! It is as simple as that!
    Love you always!!!

  • Project Gyan Jyot Stories – 1

    There is a boy, about 14 years old. Shy lad with a soft voice and a little hunch, like he is trying to disappear between his shoulders lest someone spots him. He barely speaks but when he does, he speaks calmly with a sense of control on his carefully measured words. He once told he me his hobby was reading so I started getting him books to read. I love reading myself and I have hundreds of books that a young boy, his age, will enjoy.

    Each day, I used to check with him whether he liked the book from yesterday. He would shyly nod his head. I would nudge him to narrate the story to me or whatever he understood of the story. He would drop his head down and without meeting my eye say, “Miss, samajh main nahin aayi!” (Miss, I did not understand the story). Hmm! I used to wonder, “Maybe I gave him a book that was too hard for him to understand” So next day I brought the level down one notch. Next day another and then another and another, till the day I understood that all though he is 14 and studying in 8th Grade of his English Medium school, his English vocabulary is that of a first grader. My bewilderment was regarding the mismatch between his ability to read vs. his ability to understand. I had automatically assumed that when someone can read so well, he/she can comprehend about the same level as well. But this small, sweet boy taught me that I was wrong in my assumption.

    One day I asked him, “How did you learn to read so well?” Once again he lowered his gaze to avoid eye contact and said softly, “I wanted to read so I practiced reading each day.” My heart melted for him. Imagine this boy in your mind. The boy who confidently told me that his hobby was reading (English reading to be precise). The boy who in spite of the odds taught himself to read. The boy who continues to read fluently and confidently. The boy who is transformed from the shy little character into a leader when he is reading English. Yet, the same boy who barely comprehends 10% of what he is able to read.

    Imagine the hunger to learn that is burning inside this child but who has not found the right mentor or the right resource to help him bridge the gap between reading and comprehending. Project Gyan Jyot is a project aimed at helping such children cross the bridge. Guess who is helping them cross over – children for whom such a bridge never existed.

    More stories, more details over the coming days.

     

     

  • Bees Saal Baad

    Pavan and I celebrated our twentieth wedding anniversary recently.  Like most loving couples out there, I wish I could write a sweet, rosy, gushy description of our wedded life and call him puppy names. Haaaah! But that’s not me and that’s not our story.

    The name of the horror thriller Indian movie, “Bees Saal Baad” suits more aptly to our journey together of twenty years. The thing about Indian Horror movies is that you tend to laugh more than you actually feel scared, so you get the idea why I chose this title.

    For those who don’t know, ours is an interstate or more appropriately cross country love marriage with Pavan being from Hyderabad and me from Chandigarh. The bride was fair and lovely and the groom was dark and handsome (at least we were 20 years ago).  Pavan was the geeky Developer and I was the star Tester finding bugs in the code that he had written. I was immature, lost, brash and pretty. He was grounded, soft spoken, hardworking and messy. The caricatures above were hand drawn by a graphic artist, a good friend, who worked in the same office as both of us.

    My sole reason for falling in love with Pavan was the reason that he loved me more than anyone had ever loved me. Till date, I don’t see a reason what made him fall in love with someone who was constantly finding defects in his work. Most other developers in the team used to hate me and argue with me over the defects that I had shared. But not Pavan. He always promised to check the bug out, in the hope of improving his code. I guess this should have been another reason to fall in love with him, but I didn’t consider it at that time.

    This year, when I realized it was our twentieth, I was shaken a little. I couldn’t believe we had survived 20 years together! Wow! That is so surreal. Him and Me, Me and Him together for 20 years, who would have thought! What all we have done and where all we have been. We have tried to change each other and failed. We have tried to become like the other and failed. We have tried to let each other live their own life and failed at that too. The beauty is that in-spite of failing for 20 years, we still haven’t given up hope of trying to fit in better with each other.

    We simply refuse to give up on each other. After so many years of trying, we know there is hope. There is hope we will change the world for the better (I mean each others’ world). I have hope that one day, he will manage to lose weight. He has hope that one day, I will learn to control my temper. I have hope that he will become less of a workaholic and spend more time with family. He has hope that I will stop pestering the family and get a real life project to divert my energies. I have hope that he will stop snoring. He has hope that I will start sleeping more soundly so I don’t hear his snores. As they say, our small world is built on solid foundation of Hope.

    This is our short story of twenty years. I haven’t been able to decide who is the Beauty and who is the Beast, or more appropriately who is the Ghost and who is the Protagonist  in our Horror Comic Story. I guess we just have to live together for another 20 years to figure it out. Stick around if you want to uncover the suspense!

    Cheers to the next 20!

  • The Annual Fever is Back

    Come March, there is a new kind of fever which grips our nation. The symptoms of this fever are high blood pressure in Parents and stomach ache/ anxiety/ depression/ loss of focus/ fear in Children. Owing to this fever, all Holiday destinations are deserted and even Temples have relatively shorter queues. Extra-curricular classes close down and there is a complete stop to parties and movies. All energies of all families around the country are simply focused on getting through with this month. Though Medical Science has not officially given a name for this fever, I, in my simple common (wo)man language call it the Exam Fever.

    Today, I diagnosed an 8 year old, extremely bright and hardworking girl with this fever. She was solving all Math problem on her own but somehow I sensed the anxiety in her. When I asked her what was troubling her, she confided that she was scared of the Math exam. I was surprised to hear that because she is genuinely good in Math. This is how our conversation went.

    Me: Baccha, why are you scared of the exam? You are so good in Math.

    She: Aunty, I am scared I will score less marks in Math.

    Me: What is the problem if you score less marks?

    She was silent. So I probed a little more.

    Me: If you get less marks, will your parents feel bad?

    She shook her head indicating no.

    Me: Will there be an earthquake or a flood if you get less marks?

    She again shook her head, smiling a little now.

    Multiple more examples like this and she agreed that there will no catastrophe if she scored less marks. She finally revealed her fear such innocence and honesty that my heart melted for her.

    She said: Aunty, I will not feel nice if I get less marks. I have studied so hard for the exam.

    While I loved her approach of trying to get good marks only for her own sake, I still disagreed with the concept of learning for the sake of the exam. So I asked her a few more questions.

    Me: In your opinion, why do we learn? Do we learn for getting good marks?

    She was slightly confused by the question. She had perhaps not considered this question before.

    Me: What is the main reason we should learn anything? Is it to get good marks in the exam or is it for the joy of learning what we are learning?

    She remained silent but was listening intently.

    Me: The hard work you have put in learning Math has made you understand beautiful things like Percentages, Fractions, Geometry and many more. This is the reward for your effort and you have already received it. No one can take this reward away from you because it has already become a part of you. The marks you get in the exam are only a small reflection of how well you have understood the concepts. The marks are in  no way a reflection of who you are and how much you know. No exam can ever judge that and even if it could, the reason we learn is not to show others how much we know (through the exam score). We learn because that’s what we love to do. If there were no exams, would we stop to learn?

    She shook her head. We both knew the list of things she wants to learn in the summer holidays. I knew she was with me so far.

    Me: Don’t worry about the exam. Don’t ever learn for the sake of getting marks. Learn in a way that anyone can put an exam any day and we will always be ready for it cause we have already  learnt the best we can. And if we do end up getting less marks than what we wanted, it only means that there are a few concepts that we need to revise. If we look at exams like this, aren’t exams amazing? They help us understand what we can do better. Why, then, should we be scared about them?

    She nodded her head in agreement.

    I don’t think her deep rooted fear of the exam disappeared with this conversation but I am sure I managed to plant a tiny seed somewhere in her mind.

    As the fever sweeps through the country, causing thousands of mental breakdowns and hundreds of suicides, I appeal to all parents to please pause and evaluate why you are pushing your children for good marks. Please stop and evaluate if you are basing the worthiness of your child by the marks they are scoring or on what they are actually capable of.

    Let exams not be the reason why our children study. Let the joy of learning purely for learning sakes remain blooming in your child. If your child has not learnt throughout the year, evaluate the learning strategies in the first place. There is nothing to be gained by pushing down a full years worth of knowledge down their throat in one month. If your child has learnt throughout the year, then you should let the child go for the exam without any extra preparation to evaluate if the learning strategy used throughout the year could be improved any further. After all, exams are wonderful tools to help us learn about how we could learn better.

    I pray that in our technology race for Automation and Robotics, we don’t end up making our children into machines who can memorize large volumes of information, replicate this information in exams and follow instructions of the parent/teacher/society to the word for the rest of their lives. We will have our Robots coming off the manufacturing line in a few short years. Please, please, please let’s not make our children into one in the meantime.

    Let them not learn for the sake of exams. Let them learn because learning comes naturally and joyfully to humans as is.

  • Guiding Light

    I usually avoid long distance driving at night. I have a certain eye condition to blame for that. But then, one night post 12AM, my husband was feeling sleepy and since I was wide awake and fully alert, I decided to get behind the driving wheel.

    For a while, I drove at my own slow pace watching out for speed breakers/ motorists without end lights/ blind curves/ traffic coming on the wrong side/dogs/cats/et all. It is painful to drive long distance on slow motion anticipating unknown dangers, every second of the drive. Just when I was thinking there should be a better way to get through this, a small car zoomed ahead of me. This car was driving at the exact speed I wish I was driving at. Wow! On a simple instinct, I decided to follow the car. I figured, since it was ahead of me it would have already encountered the obstacle before I did. All I had to do was follow it and I would be fine too.

    This strategy worked beautifully, for a while. The car slowed down at a speed breaker. A little way in the back, I prepared for the speed breaker just by watching the tail lights of this car. It took a sharp turn, too close to a truck without back lights on. I was ready for the truck a few critical seconds in advance. I started to relax. I was obviously following an expert driver blessed with good driving instincts and definitely much better night vision than myself.

    After a while, I lost this car at a junction. Maybe it had sped away faster than I could keep pace or maybe it took another turn that I wasn’t meant to take. For a while, I drove with a heavy heart. Slowly, I got accustomed to driving on my own, at my own slow speed. And then just like that, another car zoomed ahead at a speed that was just right for me to follow.

    I mused at the ease and fun of a night drive, when we have a guiding light in front of us. And then, just like that, I started thinking of the people who have been Guiding Lights to me, in my life. They have appeared in my life out of nowhere, but they have been instrumental in me driving around blind corners at night. Some people have lead the way for a short time but a few have been there to stay for a long distance. I have merely followed some but some have taught me a lot about the journey itself, simply by driving ahead of me.

    My life would not be the same without them.

    It is uplifting to find a Guide and it is heartbreaking to lose one, if you have connected deeply over a long period of time. Once lost, there is no point in looking back and trying to find the Guide again in the darkness of the night. We just have to keep driving forward, albeit a little slow, albeit a little scared but we have to keep moving forward on our own journey.

    As long as we are still driving, still moving on our own journey, who knows when the next guiding light might overtake us and give us an opportunity to follow it. As long as we are willing to learn, willing to trust, willing to remember our own destination, I am sure the next Guiding Light is somewhere right behind us, waiting to zoom up ahead of us.

  • Why Do We Cry Alone?

    I came into the world crying

    Crying was my first words

    Crying I called you and crying I hugged you

    But today, I am afraid to cry in front of you

    Oh! Why do I cry alone?

     

    I don’t laugh alone

    I don’t celebrate alone

    I don’t holiday alone

    Then, why do I have to cry alone?

     

    Crying is important

    Crying is healthy

    Crying is natural

    Then why do I cry alone?

     

    You cry

    She cries

    He cries

    We all cry

    But why do we all cry alone?

     

    Why do we feel judged when we cry?

    Why do we feel weak when tears flow down our cheeks?

    Why is it important to always show we are happy?

    Why can’t I cry with you? Why do I have to cry alone?

     

    When we know joy and sadness are equal parts of life

    When I know I am strong in not hiding my emotions but letting them flow

    When you already love me for who I am

    Then why should I cry alone?

     

    By crying in front of you, I am not blaming you for my sadness

    By wetting your shirt with my tears, I am not asking you for answers

    By sharing my problem with you, I am not transferring my burden on you

    Then why should I cry alone?

     

    I cry because for that moment I am too full

    I cry because I just need to talk and let go

    I cry because, sometimes, I just don’t know what else I can do

    I do not want to cry alone

     

    Like I want to share my  joy

    I want to share my sorrows too

    For if I don’t, then I have only shared half of me

    And if you don’t, then you have only shared half of you

    Why do we want to be happy sharing halves, when we can share our full?

    Why do we want to cry alone?

     

    I decide to talk about me in whole, my joys, my fears and my sorrow

    I do not feel weak sharing my worries because I know they worry you too

    I do not feel shameful talking about my weaknesses because I know you have yours too

    I decide I do not want to cry alone

    How about you?

     

    Image by Pexels from Pixabay