My kids get a lot of screen time- between video games on the phone, Netflix on TV and Youtube, they watch a good bit more than the 2 maximum hours recommended by the American Academy of Pediatricians (Ani would say, if he heard me say this, "well, the Indian Academy doesn't have any recommendations so why are we following Americans in India?").
On holidays, or afternoons when I'm at work and the kids are with the maid at home, their screen time shoots up even more. To be honest, even when I take them to work with me and I leave them in lab to attend a meeting, by the time I'm back, both would have somehow managed to get hold of phones and will be playing video games on them.
In an effort to promote actual conversation around the house, I decreed a no-screen time around dinner. Instead, the kids and I sit around in a circle with our food and I'm supposed to tell them stories. The best stories eliciting the biggest laughs are those from my own past. I dig through my memories and tell them stories of when we used to be a joint family at the ancestral home. Five families lived under one roof for a few years- the stories I recall are from the time I was probably around 4 till about 7. Five families, my grandmom, her elder sister, and 4 cousins growing up bickering and fighting and laughing. A total of 16 humans. Imagine the amount of cooking and washing! And this was before washing machines!
But all this humanity living under one roof made some pretty hilarious stories. In addition to the humans were also animals! This was during the time when there were enough trees on that street that there used to be monkeys. So antics of monkeys competed with the antics of humans.
So anyway, all this forced conversation- time is making me recall stories that had long been buried within my memory... weirdly enough, most of my stories from that time revolve around a couple of cousin brothers I don't really communicate much with these days. Now I wonder why I don't. So maybe I should reach out and try to make a connection again.
Despite all the scoldings and yellings that I subject my kids to, I must thank God for them- they make me do unexpected, but very valuable and fun things.
Monday, March 25, 2019
Death. Again.
There a bunch of apartment complexes on our road. These were converted from individual small houses into apartments some decades ago. The relative narrowness of the road and the odd-shapes of these old plots ensure some interesting layouts of the complexes.
Although city laws mandate that no apartment can be more than 3 floors, nobody pays attention to that and most of these apartment complexes are 4-6 stories high. Again, very little attention is paid to strictures about wall heights and so on and perhaps building contractors cut corners, but it's not surprising to see fairly low walls even on the higher floors.
You see where I'm going with this, don't you?
One young man today, when leaning over a wall to grab a towel from the clothesline (no, nobody thought that perhaps the clothesline should not be at that particular place) leaned a bit too much and fell and died. Two of Durga's young friends happened to walking on the road at the time and jumped out of the way just in time to see him land with a thump at their feet. He apparently blinked at them, and then faded out of consciousness and died before the ambulance could get there.
Who was this poor man? Who are his family? What a senseless, pointless way to go.
What makes a person dead? And what is that spark that makes them alive? Life and death. What great, inexplicable mysteries they are. All the stories we have about resurrection, medical miracles, zombies, and even reincarnation- aren't they all just ways for us to try to wrap our heads around these fundamental concepts? We make death a little more understandable by giving it names: The Grim Reaper, Yama on his bull... the fact that any of us can die any time due to any reason is a horribly scary truth and we try to make it a little less scary by making up stories around them. After all, if Savitri could negotiate with Yama to bring back her husband, if Bill and Ted could play games with the Grim Reaper and rescue themselves, if some medical miracle can pull people back from the brink, then perhaps we too will be saved from a sudden, inexplicable end.
What about those two kids at whose feet this guy fell? What a horrible experience for them. How will this affect them? Though, knowing the kids on our street, they probably will be just fine. Somehow, what would seem a terrible tragedy that would elicit hours of reflection and many articles about the dangers of construction and perhaps a couple of bills on safety being passed in the US, seems pretty commonplace in India. Maybe it's because kids face death in other forms every day- an unlucky dog with a crushed skill on the road, a crow pecking at a rat carcass, a goat being bled before it gets cooked.... what is neatly sanitized in the US is very in-your-face here in India. So maybe kids are not exactly unfamiliar with death.
Still.... that poor man and his poor family. My prayers with them. May they have the strength to go on.
Although city laws mandate that no apartment can be more than 3 floors, nobody pays attention to that and most of these apartment complexes are 4-6 stories high. Again, very little attention is paid to strictures about wall heights and so on and perhaps building contractors cut corners, but it's not surprising to see fairly low walls even on the higher floors.
You see where I'm going with this, don't you?
One young man today, when leaning over a wall to grab a towel from the clothesline (no, nobody thought that perhaps the clothesline should not be at that particular place) leaned a bit too much and fell and died. Two of Durga's young friends happened to walking on the road at the time and jumped out of the way just in time to see him land with a thump at their feet. He apparently blinked at them, and then faded out of consciousness and died before the ambulance could get there.
Who was this poor man? Who are his family? What a senseless, pointless way to go.
What makes a person dead? And what is that spark that makes them alive? Life and death. What great, inexplicable mysteries they are. All the stories we have about resurrection, medical miracles, zombies, and even reincarnation- aren't they all just ways for us to try to wrap our heads around these fundamental concepts? We make death a little more understandable by giving it names: The Grim Reaper, Yama on his bull... the fact that any of us can die any time due to any reason is a horribly scary truth and we try to make it a little less scary by making up stories around them. After all, if Savitri could negotiate with Yama to bring back her husband, if Bill and Ted could play games with the Grim Reaper and rescue themselves, if some medical miracle can pull people back from the brink, then perhaps we too will be saved from a sudden, inexplicable end.
What about those two kids at whose feet this guy fell? What a horrible experience for them. How will this affect them? Though, knowing the kids on our street, they probably will be just fine. Somehow, what would seem a terrible tragedy that would elicit hours of reflection and many articles about the dangers of construction and perhaps a couple of bills on safety being passed in the US, seems pretty commonplace in India. Maybe it's because kids face death in other forms every day- an unlucky dog with a crushed skill on the road, a crow pecking at a rat carcass, a goat being bled before it gets cooked.... what is neatly sanitized in the US is very in-your-face here in India. So maybe kids are not exactly unfamiliar with death.
Still.... that poor man and his poor family. My prayers with them. May they have the strength to go on.
Grim determination
I WILL get this paperwork done for my parents' bank accounts and life insurance policies and the other million small baskets that my dad decided to save up his eggs in and I WILL GRIN and BEAR IT.
So SBI, HDFC, LIC, ICICI- whatever other initials there are- throw me whatever crap shit paperwork you have. I will rip through it.
Yaaaaaaahhhhh!
Saturday, February 23, 2019
My Inexplicable and Unpredictable Daughter
D will turn 6 in a couple of weeks. She is like nothing I could have ever predicted when I imagined having a baby girl.
Things that make me wonder how in the world this little old-soul thinks the way she does:
a) She is wise beyond her age (yesterday she said to me, "I think if Ani and I were not around, mamma, you would have been crying all the time after your Appa and Mummy died". I could only blink at her)
b) She is super-observant (she told RK, "how come when you fake-laugh, you look down a bit?")
c) She remembers everything about everything (I have resorted to showing her any jewelry or silver or previous stuff in the house and where I keep them, because honestly, I don't remember this stuff but she not only does, she will also recall who gifted what to whom and when)
d) She is crazy, crazy, crazy about makeup and clothes and fashion. Recently she pulled out some cucumbers from the fridge, cut out big pieces, lay down on the bed with the cucumber pieces on her eyes since she saw someone getting a spa on TV. She loves painting her nails and lips, she is a menace with the eye liner and getting her to stop putting powder on is an hour-long ordeal. Ani is the only one who can get her to stop by telling her she looks like a clownish raccoon, whereupon she will first sob and then go scrub her face out (with anti-acne scrubbing soap only)
e) What she wants for her birthday: a cycle (expected), and an animal farm where she can take care of cows, cats, dogs and elephants (huh!)
How in the world did I, a fashion unconscious, not-particularly-perceptive, half-blind (literally and figuratively), utter nerd end up with a little girl like her?
She makes me question my worldview a thousand times. She makes me laugh even while she maddens me with her incessant questions, her story-telling, her insistence on being stylish and her whininess when she doesn't get her way.
She truly is a mystery. I hope, wherever my parents are, they keep a good eye out for her. I need her to be happy, healthy and utterly unpredictable always.
Things that make me wonder how in the world this little old-soul thinks the way she does:
a) She is wise beyond her age (yesterday she said to me, "I think if Ani and I were not around, mamma, you would have been crying all the time after your Appa and Mummy died". I could only blink at her)
b) She is super-observant (she told RK, "how come when you fake-laugh, you look down a bit?")
c) She remembers everything about everything (I have resorted to showing her any jewelry or silver or previous stuff in the house and where I keep them, because honestly, I don't remember this stuff but she not only does, she will also recall who gifted what to whom and when)
d) She is crazy, crazy, crazy about makeup and clothes and fashion. Recently she pulled out some cucumbers from the fridge, cut out big pieces, lay down on the bed with the cucumber pieces on her eyes since she saw someone getting a spa on TV. She loves painting her nails and lips, she is a menace with the eye liner and getting her to stop putting powder on is an hour-long ordeal. Ani is the only one who can get her to stop by telling her she looks like a clownish raccoon, whereupon she will first sob and then go scrub her face out (with anti-acne scrubbing soap only)
e) What she wants for her birthday: a cycle (expected), and an animal farm where she can take care of cows, cats, dogs and elephants (huh!)
How in the world did I, a fashion unconscious, not-particularly-perceptive, half-blind (literally and figuratively), utter nerd end up with a little girl like her?
She makes me question my worldview a thousand times. She makes me laugh even while she maddens me with her incessant questions, her story-telling, her insistence on being stylish and her whininess when she doesn't get her way.
She truly is a mystery. I hope, wherever my parents are, they keep a good eye out for her. I need her to be happy, healthy and utterly unpredictable always.
Wednesday, February 13, 2019
Black.
Tomorrow I turn 37. It will be my first birthday without my parents to wish me.
I've invited myself and the kids to a couple of aunts' places tomorrow- first to one of my aunt's, and then to one of RK's.
I wish there was a pill for heartache.
I've invited myself and the kids to a couple of aunts' places tomorrow- first to one of my aunt's, and then to one of RK's.
I wish there was a pill for heartache.
Wednesday, February 6, 2019
Insomniacs, Inc
After a rousing discussion about work with the man, I was inspired to action and sent out a flurry of messages at 12:45am, not wanting to wait for the sun and fully expecting not to receive replies till later in the day Much to my surprise, 3 out of 4 people replied within 15 minutes.
Huh. I've found my community of insomniacs.
Huh. I've found my community of insomniacs.
Monday, February 4, 2019
General ineptness
Who makes government websites?
Bangalore, the city with the largest density of software engineers, has been touting its BBMP online services for years now.
You know what, BBMP? Half your websites don't work. Bloody hell, which of these fabled software engineers have you been using to create your dumbass websites?
Take the example of the Death Certificate online request form. I either have to take half a day to go in person to the office in Shivajinagar (by the way, I have to go to different offices for each parent... apparently the offices are ward specific and while requesting for a DC for one parent I cannot ask for the other one.... again, internet age? Hello? Isn't the whole effing point of putting things online so you don't have this nonsensical geographical restriction? Imagine if one of my parents had died in Whitefield... or Timbucktoo... I would have had to keep going there to pick up DCs every few months. Because you know what else? You can't order more than 5 at a time. Just shoot me somebody. Right now.)
So the online DC request: You enter your details... and you know while doing so, that there's going to be a problem because you cannot enter any spaces. So I have to type VarshaShridhar or my father's name without any spaces and hope to God that the thing figures out what has been entered.
Then, ok. You enter all the details and click submit. There's an interminable wheel that goes round and round and then abruptly stop... no loading of new page, no error message, nothing. So what is going on? God knows. The Page. Doesn't. Change. Ever.
The state run or the central govt websites are no better. In the GoI website, for example, you are supposed to somehow be born figuring out that a grant application website that doesn't open in Google Chrome might magically do so in Firefox. Many grant applications through BIRAC, for example, do not allow you to change the data in a form without resetting a bunch of other pages. So imagine you are putting in a budget for a grant. As you change your budget, all your milestones and timelines change as well. So instead of a change of a single line, you now have to spend the next 45 minutes retyping (or copy-pasting) the previous 4 pages of content.
Government guys, I know my company website isn't the greatest. But for all the flak it's gotten, at least it works. And I did on a near-zero budget. Tell me, how many crores of rupees of taxpayer money did you spend on these crappy websites?
Bangalore, the city with the largest density of software engineers, has been touting its BBMP online services for years now.
You know what, BBMP? Half your websites don't work. Bloody hell, which of these fabled software engineers have you been using to create your dumbass websites?
Take the example of the Death Certificate online request form. I either have to take half a day to go in person to the office in Shivajinagar (by the way, I have to go to different offices for each parent... apparently the offices are ward specific and while requesting for a DC for one parent I cannot ask for the other one.... again, internet age? Hello? Isn't the whole effing point of putting things online so you don't have this nonsensical geographical restriction? Imagine if one of my parents had died in Whitefield... or Timbucktoo... I would have had to keep going there to pick up DCs every few months. Because you know what else? You can't order more than 5 at a time. Just shoot me somebody. Right now.)
So the online DC request: You enter your details... and you know while doing so, that there's going to be a problem because you cannot enter any spaces. So I have to type VarshaShridhar or my father's name without any spaces and hope to God that the thing figures out what has been entered.
Then, ok. You enter all the details and click submit. There's an interminable wheel that goes round and round and then abruptly stop... no loading of new page, no error message, nothing. So what is going on? God knows. The Page. Doesn't. Change. Ever.
The state run or the central govt websites are no better. In the GoI website, for example, you are supposed to somehow be born figuring out that a grant application website that doesn't open in Google Chrome might magically do so in Firefox. Many grant applications through BIRAC, for example, do not allow you to change the data in a form without resetting a bunch of other pages. So imagine you are putting in a budget for a grant. As you change your budget, all your milestones and timelines change as well. So instead of a change of a single line, you now have to spend the next 45 minutes retyping (or copy-pasting) the previous 4 pages of content.
Government guys, I know my company website isn't the greatest. But for all the flak it's gotten, at least it works. And I did on a near-zero budget. Tell me, how many crores of rupees of taxpayer money did you spend on these crappy websites?
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