Home is art with an attitude!

When and why did we start considering something colorful or visually aesthetic as a work of art?  I think “Art is an attitude!”. 

Thanks to my Stay-at-home dad (once he took his VRS at 50) who taught me how to space the clothes while drying them up, why should the clothes be turned inside out for a quick dry, which clothes to dry on the rack and which on the cloth liner, which ones to put in the shade, how to clip them, which ones to be put in the hanger, which fold-alignment does not crumble or crease the clothes, how many folds make for a compact pile up. I found his days very therapeutic at home doing this routine.

There has always been peace in what he has been doing. He has never been forced to do these things. He loves to do it. It just has forever got me to knuckle up in my mind that when did society came to its decision on gender and division of chores.

The root of the problem is that we do not value our own doings, our daily life. Our rating to ourselves is so low on to what is considered everyday routine, household chores or the mundane life. Everything out there seems glittering with questions like what are you doing today which is so different from what other people are up to? And tons of other similar questions. The problem created here is of our own making. We are bullying ourselves into a very conscious being. Treading on what’s expected of you by the traditional society is not something of the past but, also of the modernistic future we live today. Just the criteria has changed.

Is it asking for so much from the genders that exist? Why divide chores or careers? Why divide life? Why not share? Why not experiment?

As the change occurs, I believe that with each ticking second it is scores of stay-at-home moms and some numbers of stay-at-home dads are the ones who are actually working on building blocks or connecting households.

Home is art and we need people who enrich it because art thrives not in measured cubicles but, in a free state of mind and space!

Halloween in Soup

On the warm eve of Jack-O-Lantern………...

The day was just winding up with a dip in the air. The breeze hissing into my ears, the bite of the night giving me jitters. I am just a eight year old with bones and joints growing in an all-compassing direction.

I looked for my jungle green hooded jacket in my wardrobe. I found it on the last row, tucked away in the orderly way mom did at the end of last winter.

I looked out of the window to see Chris and Paul toss the coin to continue their never ending bet stories. Just then I heard the kitchen door creak. Mom, is that you? I pitched it out with a lot of desperation. The voice from the other side was more gruffly. "It's dad. Mom is coming too in a few minutes".  Okay, I mellowed, I am coming down.

Sliding down the staircase, I landed just in time to bang into my dad. Hey Jose, dad squeaked, how have you been all day? Did you go out to play a bit? No dad, I was catching up on my science notes and self-pacing on my basketball skills.

Hmmm, that's good. But, it is a fine day to catch up with the neighbourhood boys. It's been awhile since I saw you interacting with them. Dad, I will meet them tonight anyway for the "Trick or Treat" muster. O yeah! So tell me what costume have you planned for yourself, dad punched? Grandma gave me an old one from the attic. She said it belonged to Uncle John when he was my age. That's sounds pretty set for you. Good luck my boy...

Just then mom barged in with loads of books and two bunches of keys and placed all of it with a clonk on the dining table.

Hello boys, what have you been upto? Dad, gave a warm hug with prolonged kiss on her forehead. Happy Weekend! They both screamed to the top of the ceiling. My lips curved up in empathy. Dad pulled me too, to unite in our traditional family group hug-tug.

It was mom, who first broke away and tossed the question, who is going to the garden to get the Pumpkin on the table? Dad was a bit spaced out suddenly. I am sure he had planned a self-igniting TV evening. This year too?, dad groaned.

Why not snapped mom? Well dad pitched, I thought Jose is over eight now and will find it interesting to hang around for trick or treat rather than carving a Cucurbita pepo (plant name which yields Pumpkin). Mom, was tapping her foot and I had figured out long back that it was a sign for dad to stop and just listen out to a plan mom had already figured out all perfect in her mind.

Dad sat down on the chair, and tapped the table and started musing his calm-change song (I call it that because he usually changes his thoughts after that). lol

Let me make some ham sandwiches and warm coffee, mom trudged. What do you want to sip, Jose?, she asked me. I will have some still lemonade without ice mom.

I did see you are wearing your jacket Jose. Hope you are not catching a sneeze?, mom enquired. No mom, I am okay, I blunted.

The evening snack packed a punch to all of us or was it mom's food? We discussed our day and came up to where we were. Mom, finally laid out the plan ahead for the evening. So boys, I think we are not just going to carve a pumpkin this Halloween, but also Jose is going to start to build on his culinary skills. Mom winked at me and notched up her nose. Dad did look surprised but, he well appreciated the idea.

So it was all set, dad and I will go to the garden to pick up a big great pumpkin. Come back and we three will get going into not just carving a "Jack-O-Lantern" but, also then I will be making an Halloween special "Cream of Pumpkin soup" under the guidance of my parents.

Just as we two were going to step out into the garden, mom called out, "And yes, I forgot to say this, Jose you will have to invite a friend of yours to join us for the soup you will spell up tonight". It pierced my ears and boggled my mind. Who will I invite? My mind was working like a bingo striking any name coming on my path.

Just then I got knocked down by the blessed pumpkin we planned to slay. Where are you lost, Jose boy? dad chuckled. I heard him saying, “Come, let's pull this mean big one out to our table”. We were inside the kitchen in a few minutes, thrusting out all the squash from inside, putting it into the mixer less the seeds which we had planned to dry up for roasting it later for a snack pack.

So, who are we expecting today, Oh, yeah, No. Don't tell us Jose. Let it be your secret and a surprise for us, gleamed mom. Dad, gave me a smile, saying you better go invite now and I will help get the pulp ready in the meantime and mom can get her artistic hands onto carving the pumpkin fellow.

Sure, dad, I said, trolling away to the porch. Once there I sat down again playing the mind bingo game. The boys in the neighbourhood came with their own gangs or groups. And I didn't want to bring friends of friends. Just someone, who we can share a quiet evening with. Just then, I heard the humming of songs from the front row houses. The boys in the neighbourhood called the row houses “Poor Man’s Zone”.  The songs were surely being sung by Mrs. Daniel and her daughter Elizabeth. I had played with Elizabeth last summer when they had just moved into the neighbourhood. My mom unlike the other women in the high node Lincoln Street, had taken me with a welcome basket of goodies to make feel good the Daniels at their new abode. I had not gone again to play with her all this while. But, I liked her for the generous helping of the Carrot Chocolate cake she shared with me and also for being, hmm, who she was! Finally, the winner emerged from my bingo mind. It was Elizabeth!

Three taps at the door, and Mrs. Daniel opened up with her lovely smile. Jose, she shrilled, nice to see you boy, it's been sometime you hopped in. Elizabeth, look who is here she called out. Hello, Mrs. Daniel, Happy Halloween! I am here to invite Elizabeth for dinner with us. I will be making pumpkin soup for the evening with mom and dad helping me. Good gracious, exclaimed Mrs. Daniel. You are such a compassionate boy, just like your mother! Elizabeth, where are you sweetheart? I am coming mom, echoed her voice as she made sounds with her boots coming down the staircase.

Hi Jose ,she brightened up shaking my hand. How have you been all this while? I am good I responded briskly continuing, to ask, so will you like to join me and my family for a Halloween dinner? Her face broke into a comical laugh. I withdrew a bit, thinking maybe she will not be comfortable. "Ofcourse" came the answer. Just that you have never invited me home before. But, their is always a start, she said with a comical face which made me grin.

Mrs. Daniel smiled and said, so that's great kiddos. Good to grow your friendship skills too. Jose, I will drop her in another thirty minutes. Sure, I mumbled and waved my way back.

Back at my home kitchen, I played along with dad cooking some onions in a pan with two spoons of olive oil. We added the pumpkin pulp to it, then dashing it with some grounded peppercorns, clove, cinnamon and salt to taste. The small fresh cream carton from the fridge made its way onto the saucepan too. Mom added her magical sprinkle of parsley to make the soup healthier. The soup was all set to warm up our souls to the spooky night.

Just then the doorbell rang and my parents amused their way to open the door. The next I knew, we were chatting away at the couch about Elizabeth's school, her hobbies and more. My mom dances too, Elizabeth said excitedly. We go to dance classes together after school. That is so cool, said my mom. And I am so glad you were such a sport to make it here with such a last moment invite. We are working parents and it gets difficult to plan ahead because of our erratic schedules. It's okay Mrs. Victor. I do understand what you mean.

So kiddos, my dad got up saying, let's start our dinner. Mrs. Victor, he proclaimed, “may the grilled chicken be blessed”. I don't know about you kids but, I am going to stuff up tonight.

Starting with a tiny prayer, we binged on.

The soup was indeed good or was it the feeling of achievement?

Elizabeth had two helpings of it and it gave me more courage.

Mommies grilled chicken was out of the world as always.

Just as we were winding up, I heard Chris and Paul distinctively.

They were calling out for me.

Time for "Trick or Treat", I said.

Elizabeth didn't reply but, crooned,

“You already gave me a treat

with some tasty meat..

Your soup in a bowl, I emptied it all...

And so it calls for howl!!!” AAwwooooooooo

We all gave a hearty warm laugh together and lit the Jack-O-Lantern before leaving for just tricks.

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Parenting Lessons from the Short Story "Halloween in Soup"

1. Parents show, Kids Learn

Mrs & Mr Victor make a happy & loving family and show that through the tradition of group hug-tug. Love is quite a big aspect which comes in small portions of actions and is understood and multiplied then. Rather than going for a "teach and follow" parenting style it's good to emotionally coach them through "showing and learning". 

2. Responsible Child

Jose is a responsible child. He has completed his homework and did play on his own. 

3. Social Interaction Skills

Mr. Victor does believe being outdoor in company with friends is a crucial aspect of growing up. He does express his wish to Jose. 

4. Self-care through Mindfulness

Jose took care of himself by pulling out his jacket and wearing it. He knew he had to take prevention less he catches a cold. It also shows that he was completely aware of what he felt physically and mentally. That calls for great Mindfulness. Sometimes overlooked kids do become blank when it comes to expression of feelings (physically and mentally). Mrs. Victor did address Jose's decision to wear a jacket and asked if all was ok.

5. Ignite a thought, and the path is created

Parenting is all about mutual learning and not ruling. Authoritarian or Helicopter parenting styles can only lead to low self-esteem and over depended children. We are here to just create a few sparks in the child's path and they will create their world then. Mrs. Victor took the lead here of doing more than what's expected on a Halloween. She knew Jose was low in social interactions and wanted him to think on his own and arrive at a conclusion as to who will he invite for dinner. 

6. Make & keep up your own family traditions

Make more of the festivals around us. In whatever time and in whatever ways that builds the conscious state of your family through good deeds like sharing, caring and more. 

The "Joy of Giving" and "Thanksgiving" can come anytime of the year.

7. Children are noticing

Mr Victor was being appreciative of his wife even if he had other plans. Joes has been noticing all along for a considerable time now how both his parents argue. But, he also knows their alternative adjustments to each other. This is just one scenario. There may be others too. 

8. Stop diving chores as per gender 

Culinary skills belong to all genders. Our boys need to also learn to love the kitchen. Also there may be girls who do not like cooking. It's fair in a world were there are also men who don't like dusting. 

9. Being generous

Mrs Victor and Elizabeth have already shown Joes how to be generous one, by being non-judgmental and pervasive in nature and two, by sharing is caring. 

10. Compassion and Empathy

The most important take away from the story is that "Compassion is a very strong personality trait and is a by-product of empathy which is feeling what other's are feeling. Compassion is the action one takes to complete your feeling of empathy.

Copyrights: [The content here is copyrighted with Chirp, Chatter, Cheer, a creative platform which envisions to unlock your imagination power, build on your reflection and lead you on a path of self-discovery!!] ~ FB/Chirpchattercheer

About the Author: Kapithra Kannapiran is an Edupreneur, Creative Educator, Design Thinker and an Emotional Intelligence Coach.  Based in Mumbai, India, she aspires to bring in paradigm shifts in thought-process and teaching & learning experiences among children and grown-ups. Through her work she focuses on aligning innovative practices with the right market & people collaborations. Her future interest lies in carving intricate paths of customized ideologies and enhance reflective educational experiences of children and all inclusive community.

Regret

Can't stand Immaturity!! Growth comes with change and that with time! Which fool said people don't change? If not change, positive or negative in your own perspective you would have remained unborn! Fools, just fools!! Sick jackasses throwing their frustration on others or making deliberate attempts to tarnish image of others! Start of an unknown little feeling which was hidden deep inside REGRET!!!! I suppose at times in life we should behave exactly the opposite of what we ...are... Just like there is a creator, there is a destroyer too and sometimes in-between these two extreme forces comes a damage controller who tries to extinguish the sparks of life and death to bring equilibrium and tranquility. The worst can come when this damage controller is hurt or poked. Because all along Shakti has been looking about... She is the supreme truth.. because purity resides in her... I don't grudge because the universe takes care of what I deserve and what I not!!! [There are so many simple life skills and change management techniques to be learnt from the trinity of Brahma, Shiva & Vishnu under the layered up leadership of Shakti]

The Good & the bad in your child

Does this statement come from a patriarchal circumstance & gender imbalance scenario? It's agreeable then.. "Boys don't cry!" is an unreasonable response which gives way to angry, trapped, unmanageable emotions... which turns into some negative super power in boys later when they grow into men... This is used as a weapon of self-esteem and superiority with other genders.. Anger is as much part of our emotional being as any other emotions.. As kids use anger also as an meaningful expression of disapproval...to people, things, words used, deeds done and any other annoyance they feel.. its most appropriate to keep all emotions and feelings .. but modulate and tune them to balance...

When children are growing, we see them only happy, sad or angry first. The 3 base emotions are just the start of the diversified traits the child will have. The circle of emotions will start getting wider with age and experience. Never stop any emotion in your children.. let them show up.. the good and bad forms the best in your child

Ask me why and how by messaging me at @Chirpchattercheer

Mom, I like not the Green but, the “Yellow Capsicum”

It was just another regular day when my maid had just finished her cooking mandate and had left the kitchen the way I want it to be. I entered with ten thoughts running through the lanes of my overused mind. In there was one wired red flag alerting me to give breakfast to my six-year old who had been trying to enjoy his one-month long vacation.

Peeping into the drawing room, I found him doing his typical couch potato act. I sighed and pulled out one of his square shaped purple colored plate. Placing two chapattis & some aaloo- shimla mirch sabji on the side I gave it an unsatisfied gaze. In just another trail blazer second, I had ideated on to also place two blobs of amul butter on top of the chapattis. Now, I said to myself, it looks un-resistible! I smirked at my “bribe-enriched breakfast” which will make my smarty pants have a “no talk” but, “just food” time for the next twenty minutes.

With my good-at-it mother poise, I left to deliver my winning platter to the little tummy which had waited with patience for what it was going to see now.  Bringing the stool near the couch, I kept the pate on it and turned back, happy on marking off the “give breakfast red flag” up there.

Entering the kitchen again, I was just about to make that “start- your- day- at- work coffee” when I thought I had heard myself being called. Ignoring my “instant on-call mom mind”, I got into switching on the microwave to heat up the coffee. There again, as the plate disk rotated to warm up my indigo cup, my ears twitched again. It was crystal, I was being called “Mom”. Stopping the microwave mid-way I stepped into the drawing room with high hopes of being asked for a glass of water.

There under the bright lit roof I could see him sulking looking at the plate. Three little questions instantly popped up there. One, are the chapattis too dry? Two, Is the subji too spicy for him? Three, has he spilled the food on the floor? (He has this habit of feeling guilty about it).

Under the influence of these three contexts, I asked him “what is it?”

There it came and shattered my good-at-it mother poise with all its might. Brooding still at the plate, he said “Mom, I like not the Green but, the “Yellow Capsicum”.

I quietly picked up the plate, dropped all the green capsicum back into the pan and handed over the plate again with not a word to utter.

A little later, and that is today did I come to terms with the choice of a six year old. I just googled about what is so special about a yellow capsicum? And here is what I found.

Yellow Capsicums ~ more mature than green capsicums, yellow capsicums have a fruity taste yet milder than their orange or red counterparts. Yellow varieties taste fantastic grilled and add fantastic colour to stir-fries. 

That does sound like my smarty pants. I am tickled as I end my post! 

Ref: http://www.harrisfarm.com.au/blogs/guides/15819812-know-your-capsicums

RUN OFF THE MORALITY ~ Inspired from lifestyles of working couples

Talking about the withering behaviours of our times, sincerity rakes up the world around us. It seems to have climbed up the charter of being one of the uncool traits to hold on too. It’s been stamped with a lacklustre traditional outlook which is too sluggish for today’s world to follow up with. Consider looking around, and listen to the conversations blaking out from small friendly hubs right from even out of the age group of 10-year olds. I will not be surprised to see that cringe on your face. The “Trolley problem” rules our world like never before. Part of a thought experiment in ethics, the trolley problem studies our moral and sincere responses to major decisions in times of uncertainties like accidents, saving life, killing someone for reasons of bigger quantity and quality. However, I think the trolley problem has escaped its density to find momentum even in minor decisions of our everyday life. Here is why I say so…………

A very typical example comes from our daily routine cycle ………It’s peak hour! Stuck in the monsoon traffic, the honking blows away what’s left of your sanity after work. The phone cranks up, and you find out that your boss still has his daily planner run into the next day. And all he could do to befriend his anxiousness is call you. As you talk to him hands free, there is a missed call from your wife’s office number. Of course by now you must have ascertained that you have to take the next right turn to pick her up. Hang on, you’re in for more ambiguities today. There is another incoming number flashing on your screen, now this one’s exciting, it’s “unknown”, and you tell your boss I have to take my other call, catch you tomorrow. You pick this unfamiliar call and you find a recognizable undertone on the other side. Your friend quips on his new number and says he needs you immediately for a presentation he has to give tomorrow. You are almost nearing the right turn, and suddenly there is a smash of glasses. It’s a bike against a mini caravan. Since it’s a wide road, the traffic gets cleared soon and you pass the accident site until to find a man and a woman in a bad state. There are a hundred co-drivers behind you and on the side-lines. Now, let’s ask ourselves some trolley questions, how many of us will make this quick decision of doing the needful? Or are we confused what’s supposed to be done in the first place?

Here is another one, from a very common setting of a 5-year old marriage. The regular ways of shuffling between work and home zones takes much of your time. All you want is to live life to the fullest in between these tiring strokes of fate. You both have maintained your individual relationships with your friends of yesteryears. Beaming up openly with your partner about your feelings for anyone is a thing of cliché these days. More the comfort level, if one of you or both have been in relationships before and had come-in into this marriage with much maturity around the rise and fall of relationships.  We all think the same way, out-looking life to have this unique way of reinstating our faith in re-living what was undone and with this belief you do start finding your unexplored feeling for an old friend and find its intriguing response from the other side too. Is it wrong at this point is a very straight-forward question but, above that is your comfort level in accepting that feeling in yourself and then taking a decision of shifting the message right through the beamer and then sharing that with your partner too. Are you ready for this yourself? Or are you finally going to shift the blame and say that you are a creation of circumstances??

Going forward to the next story, this one hit me the hardest. I had an early morning train to catch to Surat that Monday morning from Bandra terminus...I had just had one of the ugliest worded fight with my husband over of course his deliberate ignorance on his mother's insensitive attitude towards me. I already was a pinch away from losing my cool with any tiniest inclination of unintended obscurity. Entering the station I straight headed towards the rest room. Already, there was a queue at 5:30 in the morning. A Muslim woman in her burqa with her little daughter joined me to wait for her turn on the side queue. As she entered she gave me this little understanding glance for keeping an eye on her little one. However, my turn came up instantly and I went in. Now what began from there is what forms the troll here in all senses and angles. When I came out, and this was a quickie, these three men who were sitting outside had opportunely found this never explained shame of calling this little girl near them and where having fun giving her goose bumps. This little naïve angel was almost shivering. One of the heaviest among them had the audacity to even pull her by hand to make her sit on his lap. All this while I kept staring at them with no offence treatment from their side towards me. I was aware of the time and place we stood at and took the instant decision of making it clear but stated feebly, “can’t you see, she is not comfortable, just leave her!” and then I took her aside. I still don’t know why I didn’t scream at them? Why didn’t I scream on their faces? Was it a self-protection mechanism or the overall wellbeing of all three of us? These men asked me, “Are you going to pay for them? Why are you so concerned? You just leave and go and we will take care of her”. I again in my most composed voice replied, her mother has asked me to care for her. Let her come and I will leave. The very moment her mother opened the door. I returned the same glance of understanding back and moved with a background score of all those three men laughing out loud.

Think about it! Trolley up…to your own emotional intelligence!!

Reference: https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Trolley_problem

The Art of Drying & Folding Laundry ~ An Attitude

A Facebook post by a friend of mine read “The job of a stay-at-home mother is that of building blocks or connecting households....”

My instant reaction to it was “Pls elaborate.. the job of all women.. Encompassing.. working, non working, stay at home, part timers, and many more is important n crucial.. I feel..”

The reply came in saying “Arey yaar Maine kab kaha stay at home mothers have imp job! Hehehe .. buildings blocks thode na imp kaam hai 😀 😉.. I was referring to the piling of clothes and vessels! Ek hatao.. everything comes toppling down  😂 😂 ek dum building blocks ki tarah”

As a continuation of the same thread she responded “Well .. on a serious note.. I know the skills that a working mother has and how she has to multi task.. I have seen my mom doing it till about 4 yrs back! What I do is nothing compared to what she has done all these years!! Hats off to all the working moms!! Full time ho ya part time!”

I responded back again “I understood what u meant.. but never compared it to utensil n cloth piles..lol... but I got the elaboration..hehehe.. it’s hilarious... but infact.. . but I still feel..stay at home moms have bigger roles to play and longer schedules...I have even seen men in my household do it... . even cloth drying n folding is an art.. you should see my dad do it..  :*..”

Further I adding “I love every woman.. around me.. in some way or another.. they are pulling mankind to another state of being”

She reverted saying “Good to know that there is someone who admires the way we fold or dry clothes and considers it an art!  😘”

I answered, saying “infact u gave me an idea to write a piece for my blog  :*”

And so my dearest readers, this post belongs to us. Men, Women and all alike.

My friend here is glad to know that I admire the way stay-at-home moms dry up clothes and then fold them and also consider it an art! Initially, there was a difference in thought here. She did feel that I think that working mothers have a bigger balance to make than stay-at-home moms. The truth for ME is NO! I don’t think working mothers are more skilled and neither do I look down upon them, I being one myself. Neither, do I think that only mothers are stay-at-home. And not the last at all, I do think Drying & Folding Laundry is an Art!

When and why did we start considering something colorful or visually aesthetic as a work of art?  I think “Art is an attitude!”. And more than my very organized and work-life balancing mom it was my stay-at-home dad (once he took his VRS at 50) who taught me how to push art into the mundane of everyday life. Had he not, I do not think I would have enjoyed my overextended marriage-maternity break or got to love my household work the way I do today. The root of the problem is that we do not value our own doings, our daily life. Our rating to ourselves is so low on to what is considered everyday routine, household chores or the mundane life. Everything out there seems glittering with questions like what are you doing today which is so different from what other people are up to? And tons of other similar questions. The problem created here is of our own making. We are bullying ourselves into a very conscious being. Treading on what’s expected of you by the traditional society is not something of the past but, also of the modernistic future we live today. Just the criteria has changed.

Thanks to my Stay-at-home dad who taught me how to space the clothes while drying them up, why should the clothes be turned inside out for a quick dry, which clothes to dry on the rack and which on the cloth liner, which ones to put in the shade, how to clip them, which ones to be put in the hanger, which fold-alignment does not crumble or crease the clothes, how many folds make for a compact pile up.

I found his days very therapeutic at home doing this routine. There has always been peace in what he has been doing. He has never been forced to do these things. He loves to do it.

It just has forever got me to knuckle up in my mind that when did society came to its decision on gender and division of chores.

An advertisement I saw a year back came to my mind.

Must watch - https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=wJukf4ifuKs

Is it asking for so much from the genders that exist? Why divide chores or careers? Why divide life? Why not share? Why not experiment?

I wrote a post a few years back on non-duality of gender called “The age of Turbulence – Brief insights into our own Indian Marriage”. Where the masculine and feminine co-exit. The energy is maximum there. There is where we understand the true meaning of the art of living and reigning.

Do read - http://kapithra.blogspot.in/2012/03/age-of-turbulence-brief-insights-into.html

As the change occurs, I believe that with each ticking second it is scores of stay-at-home moms and some numbers of stay-at-home dads are the ones who are actually working on building blocks or connecting households.

Home is art and we need people who enrich it because art thrives not in measured cubicles but, in a free state of mind and space! 

Five notes of Love

Chasing you my love

Chasing you my love…

to the beat, we caught ….each other in

Chasing you my love…

To the smile, That creaked …between us

And we are so,

taking on the stride,

shining with all might,

irresistible tonight 

Incredible delight

Fight with chance & right.. ..hmmmm…hmmmm...

as we go back to chase the wind of time…

Chasing you my love…

The Maleficent Ways of Pink Tiaras & Blue Crowns

Right from the tiny blessed thought of having a baby to going bonkers over the guess game of will it be a “prince with a blue crown” boy or a “princess with a pink tiara” girl, our minds are ruled with certain connotations when it comes to gender association.

It starts very unknowingly from the fancy store we walk by and catch a glimpse of the “Pink satin booties” hanging from the hook & the “Blue denim cap” kept at the base.  Giving a faint smile when one enters the store it seems to be world divided between everything that is pink, rosy, red, scarlet and sometimes orange; to shades of blue, black, brown & then a few ignored tints here and there.

Childhood Consumerism has gobbled up every single parent into its trap and has given roots to another level of gender stereotyping which very few have escaped from. But, worse even if someone escapes, this color coding has travelled down and settled outrageously into the socializations of even the toddlers in kindergartens. 

For my boy who liked “pink” once upon a time, the idea of having pink in his wardrobe seems silly because it’s just so in front of his eyes. For me, I have always liked pink on boys too. What’s so wrong about it anyway? It’s just another colour in a world full of colors.  And as for “blue”, I have always been complimented on the shade looking good on me. Moreover, I don’t think there is anything biological or scientific in girls and boys having an inclination towards one of these tones. Otherwise I am sure every one of us would have even painted our hair pink!

The world is too divided between these two hues making it at most frivolous. We as parents, care takers, teachers have already decided on their behalf that they will love this colour, this toy, this book, this dress etc. It just shows how marketing plays a role in creating cultural connections out of no sense. Right from the hospital folders to even baby diapers now, everything has been conceptualized, designed and marketed with the precious little munchkins in mind. However, larking behind these ornamental luxuries are ­­glittery business models, and behind that is the hidden influences and side effects of gender division. Right from the first cuddly toy a child holds for sensory experiences to the school bag they carry to school and everything in between, a gender pattern is building up and wrecking the right of equality for not just both the genders but also the third, making the acceptance of gender non-conformity more stubborn.  

The historic journey of the pink and blue does not have a solid explanation. Some call it a marketing ploy of the 20th century (French Fashion connection) & some call it a bio-cultural urban legend of the 19th century (A Sociologist’s take). Whatever may be the case I will still pick up a blue sapphire or a green emerald to treasure it!

MANNERS at SCHOOL & KICKERS at HOME

My first grader had his first open day at school and I was indeed excited. It was his first year at extended academic curriculum and a fresh outlook on two new languages – Hindi & Marathi. Of course deep down my concern is never related to subjects & his performance. His concepts are right in place and I was well aware of it. The only question was around the adjustment factor which seems to have carried on from his kinder garden years. His existence at school has pulled up some great discussions over the last three years. Well somewhere I knew that would be the case, after all he is my son and that’s exactly what happened. At the outset of junior kindergarten, he had questioned the classroom rules and ignored the regulation out of his independent mindset. But, what was clubbed with it was what I was not ready for. He came bundled up with an attitude of no one can point a finger at me. He screamed and yelled on even if his name was taken with a different tone. May be it was the over pampering he got from everyone around.  I kept telling at school right from play group, pamper him less but was I heard? I pondered.

It’s been a trek from then, right from a happy schooler till nursery he became a scruffy goer (from a mindset point). Right from saying that he hates his teacher to creating tantrums in the morning, junior kinder garden saw the height of his reluctance to go to school. I still remember his forlorn face, and it used to give me jitters. He took time to place his trust again on his teacher after a certain incident on the very first day and then however the change happen gradually. The push-pull factor did come of use here. Positive vibes pushed from home on why his school is the best, why his teacher dotes on him and does things for his good. Engaging factors pulled him in, right from understanding his interests and covering gaps in social interactions. His smile came back by mid-term.

Senior Kinder garden was a bit smoother as compared and also consistent. We knew he will take his time and moreover with a personal handover between the teachers they knew how to work with him.

As I have come to grow with him, I know he keeps his worlds tight with strong demarcations, and in all ways he has always expressed that himself telling me with no inhibitions that his life at school, daycare and home has its own privacy. His relationships are his to keep and he does not want to mix up his feelings with comparison or share conversations he has had with anyone. As a working mother, I understood that his days are long and away from home he has tried building his own way to tackle things and brew up social connections. I am so proud of him that way.

Blinking my eyes, I came back to the present and entered the classroom. There were no parents in queue and that gave me some ease for the long time I could spend with his teacher, which I actually did. So how is he doing? I started. And because it needs to be another surprise I was told that my son is the quietest child in the class! I did chuckle and then started telling stories of heights at home - The height of naughtiness, curiousness, kicking, tickling, hyper activity and more. His teacher than gave a snoot! (Mentioning it for the point recognized here and not for the person in action)  Oh! She exclaimed.  He wants to be in the good books of all! The answer was right in front of her.

I was also a little startled. My boy is being clever and also may be a bit confused, I said. His world of good and bad are also much demarked now. So much that he is an extrovert at home but introvert at school. Can children be like that?

We both gave a grin and started talking about our next course of action. It was time for strategies again but all together at a different level. This was tough because we were going to stride on the brim of moral values. What is right and what is wrong has always been questioned in all aspects of life and it’s our turn now to play with it.

Last month was his second open day of first grade and we are looking at changes said his teachers. His grades don’t need a mention but he is talking, questioning, laughing loud and playing it cool. We are sure he will be what he is gradually said his ICT teacher and it did bring a smile on my face.

Being from the education turf I knew they were using classroom action tools and strategies like buddy system, think-tank teams, trigger interest time and more. But whatever may be the case the journey with his teachers has been inspiring for the patience and love they show and it has also got me understand children better at home or work front.

I never knew a term called Ambivert and once I know now, I understood that we both as parents are also Ambiverts.

Who are Ambiverts?

Ambiverts are people who don't really prefer one way of functioning over another. In other words, you could say they're the neutral, middle-ground hippies. They're equally comfortable in situations where the introvert feels most at home and situations where the extrovert is having a good time. 

So yeah, an extrovert can love conversation and discussion, but still feel like they need to be alone to process the information later. An introvert can feel the need to be alone but still enjoy being happy and cheerful.

I took a deep breath at the end of the thought and wrote…

At life’s front, every step our child takes is a jump for us. It makes us so much aware of who we are and how we tackle one of the most overused but necessary term called Parenting!