Day 948

Why Pinky?

My deepest thoughts are in Hindi. Only when I am in a hurry do I think in English. It’s my second language. A legacy of the Raj. Even though I have been using it for most of my personal and professional life, I need to constantly work at it. Being bilingual means one has 3 languages to have fun with – Hindi, English and Hinglish.

The English in the UK is different from the one I learnt as a child. That English was more a medium of education. As a teenager I started to enjoy it, especially through Tintins – billions of bilious blue blistering barnacles.

The usage of a language in its native country is very different from anywhere else. I had no idea what ‘Pinky’ was. For me it’s a person’s name, mostly a girl but could also be a boy. Little finger? Really? It would never have crossed my mind.

This notice in the loo on the train showed me the endearing way in which vernacular can be used : ‘Please don’t flush nappies, sanitary towels, gum, old phones, unpaid bills, junk mail, your ex’s sweater, hopes, dreams or goldfish down this toilet.’

‘Numpty’ is not quite the same as idiot. It has a particularly affectionate tone to it. Cute! Again, a new one for me. ‘Skulking’ is not as simple as loitering. It is, moving about shadily, with something to hide. It has a naughty/sinister connotation to it. ‘Four Weddings and a Funeral’ introduced it to me.

This evening I asked 2 English men their favourite word and both of them perfectly pronounced the same one: Floccinaucinihilipilification.

Recently I was flattered to be asked to write an article for the charity Mind, about a simple coping mechanism that has helped me and can help anyone. I wrote about writing. This is how I grieve: Woes and Prose.

Day 947

Posted by kidsaregifts20

Schools have counsellors. Kids can go to them to speak about their problems. The kids of counsellors don’t go to their own parents. They find someone else. What is the difference between a parent and a counsellor? Parents are judgemental. Counsellors are not judgemental.

Our neighbour’s kid comes to us when they are in trouble and we tell them, ”Nevermind. It’s ok. Let’s see what we can do now.” Do we say that to our own kids when they make a mistake? Parental default mode when in shock is – How could you do this? You can’t be my kid. You must have been swapped at the hospital and so on… We bail out all the rejection in the world to the most important person in our lives.

When one makes a mistake, what do they need at that moment? For instance, if someone slips and falls, they need support. Second thing they need is healing. Later on, softly one can say, “Careful next time. Tricky spot.”

If at the very time of the fall someone says to us,”Can’t you see? There are only two steps here and even those you can’t manage.” How are they going to feel? Is that what they need at that time? They are in severe physical or emotional pain, they are unable to take any advice on board. All they need is love and support. When we don’t pay attention to our state of mind, the smallest of mistakes upset us. In that case, how can we handle bigger problems? In fact the bigger the mistake, the more love and support needs to be given but we do the opposite – bigger the mistake, more the shame and humiliation.

A child is tempted to try a cigarette when his friends were doing the same. Is it normal for their curiosity to get the better of them? Can we understand that? Can we remember the time when we were that age and felt that way in a similar situation? Can we say to them that we understand? That it’s the habit of smoking that’s wrong. They are not wrong. Can we make them feel ok about themselves and empower them to choose what’s best for them? If yes, they might trust us with the truth.

It is not our job to discipline people or control their behaviour. It is our job to empower them to think for themselves. That power comes if they feel understood and accepted. When we can say to our friend, spouse or child that they are right, then they might think that we are right. If they constantly feel rejected by us, they will reject us too.

(Yesterday’s and today’s posts are transcripts from a counsellor speaking to a group of parents in Hindi in India. Name unknown.)

Day 946

Posted by kidsaregifts20

When they were little, they came and told us everything every day. They vied for our attention. We didn’t have to ask them anything. They went round and round us and wanted to tell us all about their friends, people they met, things they did, what they had at lunch time, who said what to whom and so on.

A few years later, we started going round and round them, asking – what did you do today? Who did you meet? How are your friends? What did you have at lunch time and so on… but we didn’t get much more than monosyllables in response. What happened? Same child. Same parents. When did the equation change?

When they were tiny, we looked at them and smiled at the lovely things they said. They received our appreciation. They felt our complete acceptance of who they were, our whole-hearted approval of their pure innocence.

One day they came to us and said, ”Guess what! Today I bunked school to go watch a film.” Did we smile then? Did they feel our approval, acceptance or appreciation? No. They didn’t. If we could have smiled that day, they would have come and told us each and every detail of their day. But that day they felt our rejection. That day we put a deep long distance between them and us. They came to us with an openness which we were not ready for. Our judgement got in the way. We gave them a proper telling off in their best interest. In the evening, a family meeting was held to discuss the fact that this child has gone off the rails. The child got criticism, humiliation, ridicule and a feeling that everyone was trying to control their actions.

A few days later they tell us that they were introduced to smoking cigarettes by a friend at a party. That day a big huge drama takes place at home. Slowly, they stop telling us anything. We think they have learnt their lesson and stopped doing those things. In fact they have only stopped telling us what they were doing because they don’t want to meet our disapproval, our inability to listen without judgement.

We wondered how and why this distance came about?
Because we made them feel deeply rejected.
Everyone needs appreciation, approval and acceptance to experience closeness in any relationship. That leads us to the issue of boundaries and discipline. More thoughts about that tomorrow. Of course, I am no expert.

Day 945

Posted by kidsaregifts20

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The beat goes on…

Leicester Square Tube station is a short stimulating walk from there. Chinatown is mouth-wateringly aromatic. Soho is teaming with restaurants and bars of all kinds. Music of various genres flies on to the street from doors and windows. The streets are buzzing with tourists and locals of all kinds, colours and inclinations. Outlandish garbs and hairdos are normal. It is Entertainment Central.

Ronnie Scott’s is black. A legendary jazz bar that has hosted every big name. The entrance is an unassuming black and red double door. It leads into an atmospheric, intimate space. The shapely waitresses manoeuvre their way delicately around tables in black dresses with broad red belts. The walls are awash with black and white pictures that capture jazz artists in an ecstatic moment. The cocktails are elegant and the menu fit for a Queen.

A drum-kit usually sits at the back of a stage. At best, to one side. But last night, it held centre-stage in all its glory – 5 drums and 8 cymbals at various angles. It was a celebration of Buddy Rich’s 100^th birthday. He’s been called the greatest drummer ever to have drawn breath. Gregg Potter and Dave Weckl played the drums as a tribute to Buddy. They led a beautiful-big-band made up of 11 wind instrumentalists, a pianist and a base guitarist. They added layers upon layers of intricacy and magic to their music. Notes slithered up and down the octaves like snakes up and down a staircase. The sound was smooth, the timing impeccable and the speed, unbelievable. It was soothing and explosive at the same time. The beats bound time in a tight grid. The drums became an extension of the drummer. They were one.

I wonder if Saagar had heard Buddy. I wonder what he thought of him. I am sure he would have found his drumming to be ‘ridiculous’. Saagar often went straight to his drums on getting back from school. Drumming was his passion and respite. I suggested he do his official music grades. He said he had nothing to prove to anyone. He just wanted to enjoy it. He was a natural. Pity we never went to Ronnie Scott’s together.

Day 944

Posted by kidsaregifts20

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The Great Master

All I manage to read these days are short stories. Partly due to my abbreviated attention span and partly because the time has come when I ‘should’ start wearing reading glasses but I don’t. I get by, by increasing the font size and by reading for short periods of time. Also by squinting a lot.

‘The First Forty nine stories’ is a collection by the Nobel prize winner, Earnest Hemingway. In the preface he says, “In going where you have to go and doing what you have to do and seeing what you have to see, you dull and blunt the instrument you write with. But I would rather have it bent and dull and know I had put it on the grindstone again and hammer it into shape and out a whetstone to it, and know that I had something to write about, than to have it bright and shining and nothing to say, or smooth and well-oiled in the closet, but unused.”

After devouring the collection, I read up about him and was saddened to find that he suffered with depression and died of suicide. Here’s an example of the sensitivity and vulnerability of his characters and the simplicity of his story telling style. It’s called ‘Cat in the rain’.