Tulika, Author at Obsessivemom

23/07/201515/04/2017

Of rude strangers at coffee shops

The other day as I was at a coffee shop with an ex colleague in walked this man. ‘Black coffee with milk on the side,” he tossed out loudly over his shoulder and settled down on one of the sofas with a friend.

A few minutes later we heard raised voices. The man was yelling at the staff – You have NO idea what a black coffee is and you work in a coffee shop!! You bloody f****** Indians . . . . . No don’t call them becharas (poor things). That’s exactly why they do nothing to improve themselves. We’re too soft with them . . . . . . . . DON’T, DON’T say sorry. Save it up for your bosses when they fire you.”

I had my back to the man and I turned to look just as every other customer in the coffee shop. The verbal barrage was vicious and brutal and very loud. It left us stunned and silent. Oh and in case you are wondering he was very much an Indian. I wanted to say something, anything. Something in support of the boy at the counter, anything to stop the man. But I couldn’t. All I could do was throw the rude man a furious look and turn back to my colleague. The man quietened down after a while.

My friend and I continued our conversation that ranged from books and my blog to his job with a newspaper. When my friend got up to go to the counter I heard a
“What’s your name?” addressed to my back.

It was the rude man. He was alone; his friend had apparently left.

“Why would I tell you?” I asked half turning to him, still infuriated.

“Because I’m a writer too. I write scripts for soaps at Balaji Telefilms.”

I put a mental black strike against television soaps and their writers even as he seemed completely unaware of my reaction. He simply went on to enumerate the soaps he had written and how “people like me” would probably find them boring. For a moment I wondered if it was the same man at all. It really was like he was a different man, like the nasty scene hadn’t happened, or at least as if he wasn’t responsible for that vitriolic attack.

I was too outraged to get into a conversation with him. I nodded/shook my head dismissively as my friend returned to the table. Then finally when we were leaving he called out a ‘God Bless You’ from his corner!!

I am still stunned at this volte-face. Did he not realise how rude he had been? Did the boy at the counter not matter to him at all? Or did he think as a ‘creative person’ or a minor celebrity he had the right to ‘mood swings’? And worse, did he think I condoned his outburst?

Most definitely, yes!

What irked me even more was my reaction. I wish I had made my displeasure obvious. I could have asked him to keep his voice down while he was shouting. I could have completely ignored his attempts at a conversation I truly didn’t want to be a part of. Better still, I could have mentioned his earlier outburst.

However, none of this happened.

It was only later that I thought of scores of ways in which I could have expressed my distaste for his behaviour. For many many hours I couldn’t stop thinking of the boy at the coffee shop whose day had probably been ruined.

Does this ever happen to you – this inability to verbalise your feelings – specially negative ones even though you know you should? How do you react to rude strangers? Would you consider reacting even if the rudeness isn’t directed at you?

I’d love to hear your thoughts.

18/07/201515/04/2017

Enjoying the difference

The other day I had taken the kids to the dentist. As he cleaned N’s teeth tching tching at how she needed to learn to brush better, H noticing his beard and cap, asked in not too quiet a whisper (he is completely incapable of whispering), “Mama is he a Muslim?” I nodded a trifle embarrassed. Undeterred he went on, “Muslims wear caps na ma? That’s how I know. We read about it in class.” “Yes they do”, said I hoping the questioning would end right there.

Even as I struggled with the feeling of embarrassment I wondered why I was feeling so uncomfortable. From H’s point of view it was a perfectly innocent, though a tad personal, query. I asked myself whether I would have been equally embarrassed had he asked, “That aunty is wearing a bindi, does that mean she’s a Hindu?” I still do not know.

I was reminded of a similar incident while on a recent holiday at Lucknow. At a curio shop outside the Bara Imambara I found myself standing next to two burqua clad women. One of them picked up a small box and asked the vendor, ‘What is this?” and he replied off-handedly, “It’s of no use to you, it’s a sindoor-box’ (vermilion powder used by married Hindu women). The ladies smiled and put it back. I noticed the easy exchange wondering at how simply the religious difference had been mentioned, accepted and dismissed.

Perhaps that’s something special to Lucknow – that acceptance of the difference without attaching any judgement to it, where being a Hindu or a Muslim is just a way of life, where one can point out the difference without fear of being misunderstood.

While the uneducated/politically motivated lot insists on the ‘I/We are the best’ philosophy, the apparently educated/balanced lot go with the ‘We are equal/same’ philosophy.

Girls and boys are the same, all religions are the same, people from all regions are the same. That is so very confusing for a child. The thing is — they obviously are not. They are very different. It is the difference that gives them their identity – why take it away from them? Our lives would be richer and perhaps easier too if we accepted and enjoyed our differences.

Next time, I hope I won’t be thrown off balance when the kids put up a question like that. I hope I can allow them to question, understand and accept them with the ease and innocence that only children can.

**************

On a vaguely related note here’s a conversation we had yesterday morning during the school-time chaos:

H: Mama may I be a Muslim?
Me: You may be whatever you want but why do you want to be one?
H: They have so much fun. They get to go to the fair at the Idgah and get all kinds of goodies to eat and they even get Eedi.

They’ve recently read Premchand’s Idgah at school. I presume that’s what brought it on coupled with the fact that today is Eid and the excitement of his Muslim friends is very infectious.

I wish I had the time and the patience to explain that religion was much more than a few sweets and some pocket money. Unfortunately we were running late (as usual) and I had to let it go. Another time, another chat, perhaps.

Missing my hometown sorely today, I thought I’d cook up some sewain in honour of Eid. Mercifully a friend dropped by with a huge bowl of Sheer Khurma and saved the kids from at least one of my cooking misadventures. It turned out to be absolutely delicious.

Eid Mubarak everyone!

Doesn’t it look wonderful?

13/07/201515/04/2017

A whopper of a weekend and the goody bag plan

It’s Monday and I’m relieved. By now I’m used to crazy weekends but this one was unusually so.

The husband was supposed to be home after about a month but had to cancel at the last moment. The kids were sorely disappointed and I was saddled with two very sulky kids over three very long days of an extended weekend. To make matters worse N had loads of pending homework from some classes she had missed.

The goody bag plan

We decided to tackle the biggest demon first – a bunch of over 50 math problems to be done in a day. Wondering how to get through it all without bringing out the witch in me I brought out the goody-bag plan. I think I defied all perfect parenting mantras by linking reward directly to performance but desperate times asked for desperate measures.

I picked up some inexpensive goodies – chocolates, craft supplies, stationery items and put them all into a bag. I felt I was running short and so I also made out some coupons which could be ‘encashed’ for things ranging from a hug to a doughnut. After every five sums I’d let N dip into it and pick a goody. It proved to be SUCH a success that even H gave up his iPad and sat down to race N over those sums just so he could have a go at the goodies.

N had a great time feeling around in the bag trying to guess what there was and offering to pick out things for H.

And then some more..

That was Friday and it went pretty well. Here’s what we crammed into the next two days:

– Dropped in at Mc Donald for a Happy Meal. Why they still like it is beyond me – they’re not too keen on the food and have far outgrown those toys, yet….
– Had a tiny pizza party at home
– Made pani puri together. N has developed a huge liking for it and I’m quite thrilled to have a PP partner.
– Went out to a dosa joint one night where the kids enjoy watching how multiple dosas are made simultaneously, more than actually eating them.
– Then we dragged out mattresses into the living room and had a sleepover with just the three of us.
– And we also managed to work on some school projects.

Now that I’ve got all that down I realise a lot of our happiness stems from food and I’m not even a decent enough cook! Wierd? Ironical? What?

I’m beyond analyses, though. I won’t say it wasn’t fun but it really would be simpler to have The Husband home. Sigh!

So what do you do to tide over difficult times with kids? Long holidays, disappointments? I’d love some help here.

03/07/201515/04/2017

Notes from a self conscious soul 2 – Beating the monster

It’s been a while since ‘Notes from a self conscious soul
-1’ happened and I’m beginning to feel a bit guilty about not doing the part 2. Anyway I finally managed to get it down.

Let me begin by saying you probably know all of this. But
sometimes it just helps hearing it from someone else or hearing it over and
over again.

We begin with the thought that we’re in good company, heck, great company. Take a look:

I'm one of the world's most self-conscious people. I really have to struggle. - Marilyn Monroe

Yeah that’s an original Marilyn Monroe quote, Marilyn of the billowing dress fame. Oh she well and truly decimated the monster.

Speaking from personal experience two things that worked for me were –

One – Growing older: There’s some serious magic in the way age puts things in perspective. I find myself trying new things and enjoying them. Don’t we often call old people eccentric? In all probability they are simply doing exactly as they please. I’m so looking forward to turning into an eccentric old woman.

and Two – Having kids: Seriously, the little monsters can scare the s**t out of the big one. Since they came along, the twins found so many different ways to embarrass me at so many different levels that by the time they had figured out what the word ’embarrassment’ means I had attained nirvana. I mean where’s the space for the e-word after being publicly subjected to raging tantrums, being made to fish out tiny transformer parts from public dustbins and I don’t even want to think about what happened in lingerie section of the mall. Yeah they pretty much did it for me.

Unfortunately all of that is not quite in our hand. Some friends swear by the good effects of the ‘spirit’ if you know what I mean – a drink or two and you’re good to go. The results however can be a tad unpredictable and if that’s not your style you need to try other ways. Here’s how:

Take on the monster full blast:

The more often you trounce it the easier it becomes, a minuscule degree at a time – but better it does get. I well remember how utterly embarrassed I was when my first byline appeared in the newspaper. Happy yes, most definitely, but embarrassed as hell too. Yet I wrote and wrote and wrote. It helped that it was part of my job and that I had little choice. But on I went and here I am writing about the monster himself. Ah progress!!!

Know your stuff:

Knowledge and practice is another way to go after it. Practice, practice and more practice.

Relive your successes:

.. and store them away in your head. The next time the monster comes by you know you’ve kicked it once you can do it again. And remember that wonderful after-the-kick moment? Bliss, isn’t it? Savour it.

Focus on others:

If you haven’t realised this already there are many people like us out there. It makes sense then to have each other’s backs. Watch out for that new girl in your class, say a Hello. See someone struggling with a machine in the gym – lend a hand. The friendlier you make the atmosphere around you the more comfortable you feel, as does your friend and that makes both your monsters decidedly uncomfortable. Two birds one stone :-).

Talk to yourself:

Remind yourself that others are human – just like you – and that nobody is the best at everything. Remind yourself of the things you’re reasonably good at. You might not be the best conversation maker but you may rule the research lab, you may not set the dance floor on fire but you may light up a classroom. It takes courage to do something you know you’re not good at, so if you’ve put yourself in that uncomfortable situation, you’re one brave person. Remind yourself.

Lighten up:

Don’t take yourself too seriously. Laugh at yourself, admit your slip-up and ask for help if you need to.

Lastly, it really doesn’t matter:

It helps to tell yourself that. IT DOES NOT MATTER. It really doesn’t. Your fashion faux pas, your clumsy dance, your tongue tied appearance at the party – it will all be forgotten. People do forget. Sooner than you think.

The other option of course, is to go through life, playing it safe, avoiding judgement, keeping away from situations that require you to put yourself out there. You can do it. I’ve done that, for a long long time. But life’s just that much more fun if you put up a fight and win, right?

Do give it a shot. Kick that monster (and keep kicking it) then watch how free, spontaneous and wonderfully happy you feel.

24/06/201515/04/2017

Notes from a self conscious soul – 1

It strikes early – this monster called self-consciousness – and it never does leave one alone. We’re fairly easy to spot – that lady who can string a decent enough tune yet is unable to sing in company, that man at the party with a formal smile on his face, the young girl fiddling with her phone as she waits for her friends – yeah they’re the ones.

I’ve been there, done all of that. I’m still there, in part at least.

If you’re one of the other lot – that self-assured breed – you cannot even begin to imagine what we have to put up with. When you’re pushing us to do that dance, or sing that song and we’re standing tongue-tied and helpless we’re not being drama queens, or kings for that matter. It’s almost a physical thing – the nasty nit picking in born self critic – that’s holding us back. Our brains stop functioning, our throats dry up and our limbs refuse to obey us, deferring instead, to the monster.

We’re hating the attention, yet can do nothing except wish the earth opens up and swallows us, which it consistently refuses to do.

And there’s more.

1. We get labelled snobbish/moody because we rarely initiate conversations. The truth is we are often dying for someone to talk to us first.

2. Obviously then, we don’t make friends easily. When we do make friends, we’re the best kind since we are never presumptuous and tend to be very thoughtful.

3. Our jokes are continuously hijacked by the more vocal members of the group. And we’re not even sure we mind.

4. Standing up for our own birthday song is excruciatingly painful so we’ll often hide away all of that day.

5. As for photographs, it’s always a “No, Thank You”. Over time, we perfect the art of skillfully avoiding them or looking carefully casual when the camera does come on but we can never really be casual. And we often hate our snaps.

6. A haircut is an embarrassment. A bad one is a catastrophe.

7. We never believe compliments. Nope we’re not being modest, we really don’t. We do love them though, who doesn’t? But we still don’t believe them.

8. Everyone’s opinion matters to us – from the nosey neighbour’s to a perfect stranger’s. Not a great place to be in, I tell you.

9. We dress to fit in, never to stand out. Oh we can be chic and stylish but never flamboyant. ‘Understated’ is our thing.

10. We stick with the rules simply because that makes it easier to hide away.

A lot of my tribe are great in their chosen fields once they learn to camouflage the monster, which most of us do. We might even trump it for a while, only until we try something new or get into an unfamiliar situation and there it is in all its mocking glory, laughing at us for thinking it gone.

If you’re still with me, chances are you are one of my kind. Stick around for my next post where we’ll figure out a monster-bashing strategy.

Meanwhile the rest of you self-assured people just be gentle with us, will you? We mean no disrespect but we take time and a HUGE amount of effort to step out of our comfort zones. Don’t hurry us, don’t harass us. Be patient, we’re getting there.