Hi Googlies, 12/7/10
Praise Jesus! Thank you Mama Mary!
Herald Sunday Mirror published ‘Let Me Live a little Longer’ yday. Posting the text. I got a surprise yday when a friend called and mentioned that Navhind Times had published “Be My Grandpa” in Zest on Sat. I had sent it three weeks ago. Posting that story as well. Sajla, enjoy!
Home-schooling has got a thumbs-up sign from Glenn at last! Now I feel so impatient; want to take them out immediately but I will be a good girl and prepare the base and the place first. Got to buy the books and do some reading and make the schedules for each child. On Sat, I bought Charis a blank book and some pics of animals, birds, fruits, etc to get her started on recognition. She was happy with the colours I purchased and promptly started colouring everything in sight. No writing till she is five yrs at least. Want her to enjoy her childhood. Shall have a 5-day week of school. Sat will be housework and cooking day. Sunday for prayer and talent and also visits.
Yday Aaron swabbed one room and Nathan another. Kirsten swept the whole house and swabbed the hall while I did the kitchen. no work for Glenn coz he had the cooking to finish. Sun is my day ‘off’ from cooking!
Chalo then. Enough of me and my big plans. Take care n write in.
From the heart,
Auriel.
Let Me Live A Little Longer
Psychologically, our society is geared to the young. Movies, sports, advertisements, fashions all stress the importance of youth. So the elderly have less of a role to play and unless younger people help their elders to overcome the frustrations of old age, they will live out their twilight years fading out instead of blazing out.
Stop and ask yourself this: “What do older people want to get out of life?” Years ago a member of the Society of Friends summed up the basic needs of the aged thus: “Somewhere to live, something to do and someone to care.” How can you help your old family members fulfill these basic desires? You can do nothing at all unless you put yourself in an older person’s place. To do this, you must first rid yourself of these two misconceptions about aging.
Myth 1: Old age makes people different. Most of us feel that the moment a woman becomes a grandmother, she automatically assumes a halo of sweetness. And the autocratic penny-pinching dad transforms into a mellow gift-giving grandfather. Or we take the opposite view: that old age makes people crabby and cantankerous. Any elderly person has taken a long time to get the way he is, and he is going to remain that way. If Grandpa refuses to stop smoking in bed, or Grandma won’t change the fashion of her clothes, neither should be forced to do so. To accept direction (spelt correction) from those you used to have authority over in the diaper and romper stages can be a bitter pill to swallow indeed.
Myth 2: The old like to be in a safe and cozy nest. No older person likes to have his life planned for him, whether his children tuck him in an old people’s home or put him in a gilded cage. Many older people are forced into loss of self-assurance by their own children. Children may coddle aged parents not only out of concern for them but also because they really want their parents to live restricted lives so they will not interfere.
Most older people are remarkably tough and capable, even if they have physical limitations.
So plan with, not for, old people. If your older relative wants to cling to the living quarters where he’s been content for so long, stand up for him. Older people value their own homes first, and privacy at all costs anywhere. It is more economical in terms of the eventual strain that will develop on both sides to help him stay where he wants to be even if the monetary expenditure is greater.
Help the elderly person by making him know he is valued. You can ask advice or confide your troubles to him. You can ask him to write down his memoirs or to preserve family heirlooms for the grandchildren. Encourage him to pursue a hobby he loved doing in his younger days or one that he never got around to doing because of job pressures. I have heard of a man who entered medical college at 70, got his degree with honors and became an eminent physician. Another man went to law school at 71 and is now an active lawyer. Then there is this woman who learned to paint at 77, held a ‘one-man’ show at 80, and today, at 86, is still going strong. It never too late to add another ‘skill’ to the repertoire. It keeps the mind active and awake.
A few words to the elderly: A psychologist’s recipe for the elixir of youth, as given by George Lawton in the American Magazine, is what I give to you. He said: “Age cannot be measured by the number of your birthdays. As the years pile up, biological time slows down. Different parts of you grow old at different rates. Your eyes began to age at 10; your hearing around 20. By 30, your muscular strength, reaction time and reproductive powers have all passed their peak. On the other hand, your mind is still young and growing at 50; your brain doesn’t reach its zenith until 10 years after that. And from 60 on, mental efficiency declines very slowly to the age of 80.”
Older people frequently suffer some loss of memory, but creative imagination is ageless. Our judgment and reasoning powers improve, as does our strategy in tackling problems, thanks to a wealth of experience. That is why the old doctor, the experienced craftsman, the veteran lawyer can hold his own against younger and more energetic rivals. Keep your mind awake and you’ll stay young all over. Take an interest in the world around you. And make it a point of learning at least one new thing everyday. Keep up with newspapers and magazines; busy yourselves with creative hobbies, preferably ones that use the hands as well as brains. A housewife at 50, with no previous experience, made herself into an outstanding industrial designer. A retired electrical engineer has become a highly paid ceramic artist. A woman of 70 – whose children thought she should retire to the shelf- conducts a successful cooking school for brides.” Closer home, Mohan Bhandare, at 75 years, held his first solo art exhibition here in Goa at the Big Foot Art Gallery, Loutolim in May 2010. The ‘Golden Girls’ of Goa are yet another shining example of the ‘joie de vivre’ that the elderly can possess with their infectious enthusiasm for life.
So I raise a toast to the elderly - May you always have somewhere to live, something to do and someone who cares for you. May your children and your children’s children be your solace and comfort as you live the most satisfying years of your life, blazing out in glory.
BE MY GRANDPA! (Short story)
Sahir was on his way to school. The winding path, leading to the main road where he caught the bus, was a long one. It passed through a tiny hamlet. Uncle Arnold, a septuagenarian, lived in one of the ancient Portuguese houses all by himself. He would wait every day for the little boy to pass by, greeting him with a toothless smile and sometimes an offer of some delicious toffee or chocolate.
Today, Sahir looked expectantly towards Uncle Arnold’s house but the old man was nowhere in sight. “Whatever could be the matter?” thought the young lad, alarmed. He was debating whether to go in through the gate, when the next door neighbor popped her head out of the window. “Hello, Sahir. Looking for Uncle, are you? He’s not in; had a bad fall yesterday so we had to rush him to the hospital.” she said. Sahir felt sad. He walked off to catch the bus in a morose mood.
At school, Sahir could not concentrate on the lesson. His teacher, realizing that the boy was troubled, took him aside after class and asked what was wrong. Sahir told her the whole story. His teacher advised, “Why don’t you visit your Uncle in hospital? He’ll be happy to see you and you can offer to help look after him when he returns home.” Sahir’s eyes lit up. He thanked his teacher. As soon as he returned home, he told his mother, who promised to take him that very evening.
In the hospital, Uncle was all alone, looking sad and forlorn. His right leg had been put into a cast. Sahir handed him a small bouquet of assorted flowers picked from the garden Uncle tended so lovingly. “Oh, how thoughtful of you to come and see your poor Uncle!” said Uncle Arnold. “Are these from my garden? I hope someone is watering my dear friends for me.” Sahir said he would be happy to do it till Uncle was well again. ‘Come here, little one.” said Uncle, tears glistening in his aged eyes. “You do love your old Uncle, don’t you?” Sahir nodded and hide his face in the Uncle Arnold’s chest. The old man lovingly caressed his head and sighed. “I wish my own children cared as much. They are so far away. I’ve sent them news of my accident but no one has come or called yet.”
Sahir knew Uncle had a son in the States and two daughters, one in Mumbai and the other in Dubai. Aunty Carol had died a decade ago and since then Uncle Arnold lived all by himself. The children would visit in the holidays but apart from those annual visits, no one bothered with him. Sahir loved his Uncle Arnold and so he decided to look after him.
After a brief spell at the hospital, Uncle was brought home. Sahir would visit him regularly after school and in the evenings, after he had finished his homework. He cleaned the house for Uncle, watered the plants and ran errands for him. He read to him from the many books Uncle had in the library room or from the daily newspaper. Sahir’s mother sent food for him till he could move out on his own. On Sundays, Sahir would take Uncle to his house where they would play cards or carom. Sahir’s Dad would discuss current events with Uncle as they ate up Mum’s delicious luncheon.
Slowly but surely, Uncle improved in his health and was well once again. But his eyes never lost their sadness and Sahir knew why. Uncle was still waiting for his children and grandchildren to come and visit him. He would take out the family album often and look at their photographs, tears welling up in his eyes. Then he would sigh and go to his favorite rocking chair, close his eyes and dream of happier days. “How I wish I could tell them how much he misses them!” thought little Sahir. “Why do adults not care for their parents anymore? I will never leave my Mum and Dad alone like this. They will become sad, just like my Uncle Arnold.”
The little boy hugged Uncle Arnold and said to him, “I love you Uncle. I miss my grandfather so much and you remind me a lot of him. BE MY GRANDPA, PLEASE!” The old man returned the hug with tears in his eyes and replied, “You really do love me a lot, don’t you, little Sahir? Yes, dear one, I will be your grandpa. Thank you for choosing me. You have made me very, very happy indeed.”
Sunday, July 11, 2010
Tuesday, July 6, 2010
Hi Googlies, 7/7/10
Praise Jesus! Thank you Mama Mary!
We attended our first home schooling meeting on 4th. It was a lovely outing and we met new faces as well as the oldies Valyana’s kids (they are in States), Maria & her kids, Milagres & family, Joshila & Benjamin, and Michael & family. We were at Lewis & Zenita’s palce in Verna. Their eldest Son Luke celebrated his 9th? bday so we sang for him as well. The meeting was very informative; got many doubts cleared. Have decided to home school but need Glenn to say Yes as well. The only fear right now for him is will the kids be able to support themselves in the end. I think that is up to God to provide for them and if they follow him, giving up all they possess including their intellect and ambitions, He will do what is required. It is easy to preach Jesus but difficult to actually leave all to follow Him. I would like to reach that poverty level where I have to depend entirely on Him for everything esp. how and what to teach the children, and to keep my focus on God and not on the world. A great challenge but I love challenges! Please pray for Glenn to also get this courage and plunge in. Without his Yes, I cannot proceed. I would love to take the kids out right now but it will have to be next year or Kirsten will get upset. Let him clear his papers and the CET exams before I take the plunge.
We started storytelling in the night before sleeping. Aaron likes it but Nathan and Baby get easily distracted and distract everyone else. I think I should get Aaron to read first to calm them down. I let them choose a book from the Lion Story Bible series which are written for small kids. Must search for Catholic stories on the net. But when it si in a book with pics they get more excited. Aaron tries to write like me now. Yday he even did illustrations for his stories. Nathan will be my clown; he is forever doing headstands and somersaults. Charis Ann loves to jump onto anyone’s back and ride them like a horse. Nowadays Aaron is her favourite ‘horsey’.
One of the parents who has started home school for his daughter sent me a Times of India Article on a IIT topper who was home schooled. Posting it here for you guys to read.
Chalo tehn. Bye and do send in posts so we can communicate.
From the heart,
Auriel.
TOI Article:
BRAVEHEARTS It began with a simple wish to give an extended childhood to their children. Meet Ruchi and Tapeshwar Kumar Kaushik who decided to break the mould and start home schooling their children, Saras and Sahal. Last month,14-year-old Sahal Kaushik, gave all his parents' critics a fitting reply by becoming the youngest ever Delhi region topper in the IIT JEE exams and also bagging 33rd rank in the country! Vishesh Prakash It all started with a fairly innocuous conversation on their honeymoon, when they were talking about the kind of life they wanted to give their children. And, both Ruchi and Tapeshwar Kumar Kaushik, decided that one thing they wanted for their kids was an extended childhood! When it was actually time to send their children to school, they decided against it, choosing to go in for home schooling instead. Now, in a country like ours, that was akin to challenging the whole social structure. 'How can a child not go to school; 'What will she/he do at home the whole day'; 'How will she learn to interact with the kids' etc They heard no end of these questions from their friends and family. But they stuck to their beliefs and continued with what they believed in. For years they heard all kind of comments and questions thrown at them about how they had robbed their children of their childhood and how they were 'cruel' parents Last month, their 14-year-old son Sahal silenced all his parents' critics by becoming the youngest ever Delhi topper of the tough IIT-JEE. Not just that, he bagged the 33rd rank in the country! Now, what caught the nation's fancy was that Sahal had defied the conventional logic by not attending school (in any form) pretty much till 2006,when he enrolled with a relatively unknown Sangwan Model School, Rohini,to enable him to sit for his 10th standard boards. Then in 2008, he enrolled with Vandana International School, Dwarka, which helped him take his 12 board exams. At the same time he was enrolled at the Narayana Institute to prepare for his IIT-JEE exams. Then, last month he became the toast of the whole nation! Now, that was as big an innovation as it could be in the field of education! Is it possible for a child to study at home and still come out on top in the education 'system' Throw these questions at 49-year-old Col Tapeshwar Kumar Kaushik, who is presently posted in Assam, and he says, "I have always been a firm believer in the doctrine that anything can be learnt at any time. All you need is the right environment and an interest in the subject."Adds, 45-year-old Dr Ruchi Kaushik,who gave up practicing medicine around a decade ago to enable her to home school her two children, "If you decide to do home schooling, then one parent has to be a home maker. You have to give them full time."Not just Sahal, his 12-year-old sister Saras too doesn't go to school and is presently being home schooled by her mother. Ask the mother about the methodology she adopts while teaching her children, she says, "I don't really follow a structure or a curriculum. If you want to do that, you might as well send them to school. We basically go by what we want to read about. Sometimes we might study history for days on end, and at other times just decide to read a novel till we finish it. I don't try and impose on my children as to what they should study. The whole idea is to give them the freedom to choose what they want to study. "And, if that ends up with the child performing a rare feat as Sahal's, well, no one's complaining! Does the achievement of Kaushiks mean that the schooling system is actually an overrated phenomenon? The Kaushiks themselves are quick to deny it. Says Col Kaushik, "No, we don't want to run down the institution of schools. They are a very important part of education systems, especially in a country like ours where the number of students is so huge. "They go on to add that they would just like parents to consider that there is an alternative way of educating your kids. Says Ruchi, "It's a lot of hard work, but very rewarding too. We feel that this is an appropriate way for a child to learn, without having to face pressure of any kind. "Well, that's certainly worth thinking about!
Praise Jesus! Thank you Mama Mary!
We attended our first home schooling meeting on 4th. It was a lovely outing and we met new faces as well as the oldies Valyana’s kids (they are in States), Maria & her kids, Milagres & family, Joshila & Benjamin, and Michael & family. We were at Lewis & Zenita’s palce in Verna. Their eldest Son Luke celebrated his 9th? bday so we sang for him as well. The meeting was very informative; got many doubts cleared. Have decided to home school but need Glenn to say Yes as well. The only fear right now for him is will the kids be able to support themselves in the end. I think that is up to God to provide for them and if they follow him, giving up all they possess including their intellect and ambitions, He will do what is required. It is easy to preach Jesus but difficult to actually leave all to follow Him. I would like to reach that poverty level where I have to depend entirely on Him for everything esp. how and what to teach the children, and to keep my focus on God and not on the world. A great challenge but I love challenges! Please pray for Glenn to also get this courage and plunge in. Without his Yes, I cannot proceed. I would love to take the kids out right now but it will have to be next year or Kirsten will get upset. Let him clear his papers and the CET exams before I take the plunge.
We started storytelling in the night before sleeping. Aaron likes it but Nathan and Baby get easily distracted and distract everyone else. I think I should get Aaron to read first to calm them down. I let them choose a book from the Lion Story Bible series which are written for small kids. Must search for Catholic stories on the net. But when it si in a book with pics they get more excited. Aaron tries to write like me now. Yday he even did illustrations for his stories. Nathan will be my clown; he is forever doing headstands and somersaults. Charis Ann loves to jump onto anyone’s back and ride them like a horse. Nowadays Aaron is her favourite ‘horsey’.
One of the parents who has started home school for his daughter sent me a Times of India Article on a IIT topper who was home schooled. Posting it here for you guys to read.
Chalo tehn. Bye and do send in posts so we can communicate.
From the heart,
Auriel.
TOI Article:
BRAVEHEARTS It began with a simple wish to give an extended childhood to their children. Meet Ruchi and Tapeshwar Kumar Kaushik who decided to break the mould and start home schooling their children, Saras and Sahal. Last month,14-year-old Sahal Kaushik, gave all his parents' critics a fitting reply by becoming the youngest ever Delhi region topper in the IIT JEE exams and also bagging 33rd rank in the country! Vishesh Prakash It all started with a fairly innocuous conversation on their honeymoon, when they were talking about the kind of life they wanted to give their children. And, both Ruchi and Tapeshwar Kumar Kaushik, decided that one thing they wanted for their kids was an extended childhood! When it was actually time to send their children to school, they decided against it, choosing to go in for home schooling instead. Now, in a country like ours, that was akin to challenging the whole social structure. 'How can a child not go to school; 'What will she/he do at home the whole day'; 'How will she learn to interact with the kids' etc They heard no end of these questions from their friends and family. But they stuck to their beliefs and continued with what they believed in. For years they heard all kind of comments and questions thrown at them about how they had robbed their children of their childhood and how they were 'cruel' parents Last month, their 14-year-old son Sahal silenced all his parents' critics by becoming the youngest ever Delhi topper of the tough IIT-JEE. Not just that, he bagged the 33rd rank in the country! Now, what caught the nation's fancy was that Sahal had defied the conventional logic by not attending school (in any form) pretty much till 2006,when he enrolled with a relatively unknown Sangwan Model School, Rohini,to enable him to sit for his 10th standard boards. Then in 2008, he enrolled with Vandana International School, Dwarka, which helped him take his 12 board exams. At the same time he was enrolled at the Narayana Institute to prepare for his IIT-JEE exams. Then, last month he became the toast of the whole nation! Now, that was as big an innovation as it could be in the field of education! Is it possible for a child to study at home and still come out on top in the education 'system' Throw these questions at 49-year-old Col Tapeshwar Kumar Kaushik, who is presently posted in Assam, and he says, "I have always been a firm believer in the doctrine that anything can be learnt at any time. All you need is the right environment and an interest in the subject."Adds, 45-year-old Dr Ruchi Kaushik,who gave up practicing medicine around a decade ago to enable her to home school her two children, "If you decide to do home schooling, then one parent has to be a home maker. You have to give them full time."Not just Sahal, his 12-year-old sister Saras too doesn't go to school and is presently being home schooled by her mother. Ask the mother about the methodology she adopts while teaching her children, she says, "I don't really follow a structure or a curriculum. If you want to do that, you might as well send them to school. We basically go by what we want to read about. Sometimes we might study history for days on end, and at other times just decide to read a novel till we finish it. I don't try and impose on my children as to what they should study. The whole idea is to give them the freedom to choose what they want to study. "And, if that ends up with the child performing a rare feat as Sahal's, well, no one's complaining! Does the achievement of Kaushiks mean that the schooling system is actually an overrated phenomenon? The Kaushiks themselves are quick to deny it. Says Col Kaushik, "No, we don't want to run down the institution of schools. They are a very important part of education systems, especially in a country like ours where the number of students is so huge. "They go on to add that they would just like parents to consider that there is an alternative way of educating your kids. Says Ruchi, "It's a lot of hard work, but very rewarding too. We feel that this is an appropriate way for a child to learn, without having to face pressure of any kind. "Well, that's certainly worth thinking about!
Sunday, July 4, 2010
Hi Googlies, 3/7/10
Praise Jesus! Thank you Mama Mary!
Wrote a letter to Herald asking to inform about my status with the middles as they have stopped printing my articles in the fortnightly slot. Today one I sent in June has come but the ones sent in Dec 2009 and Jan-Feb 2010 have not yet come. Altogether 8 are still pending with them. They are - My Little Princess, The Sacrosanct Secretary, Dead Man Listening, Hotline is Busy! Try Later!, How to Get Fat in 10 Days, Madness for Madeira, A Few of My Favourite Things and SMS Mess.
Postin ‘My Ivory Tower Garden’ for you; the unedited version, of course.
Maria, Junior Herald editor, said that Short stories will be stalled for now as no ILLUSTRATOR! I am extremely surprised that they are so disorganized. Why tell someone to write if there is no one to illustrate. And why have a stupid policy of illustrating stories in the first place. Are all stories illustrated? I have so many un-illustrated books written by Enid Blyton in my library cupboard. I think its all hogwash. I’ve sent one story to Navhind Times for Zest which is printed on Sat. and two stories to Young Buzz, a children’s newspaper that invites short stories for writers. Let’s hope they can do my stories justice. Keep praying for this, Sajla. Sahir deserves it; he is such a sweet boy.
I end with a saying “Every new opinion, at its starting, is precisely in a minority of one”.---Thomas Carlyle.
From the heart,
Auriel.
MY IVORY TOWER GARDEN.
The monsoons are soon approaching; perhaps when this goes into print it will be in full spate. The sowing and planting bug has gotten to me too. Like the farmer who sows seed in hope of a fruitful harvest, I have planted my favourite little herbs and shrubs, not in a vast field, but in tiny little pots in the space beyond the grille of my box window.
I feel the same anxiety that the farmer feels when I rush every morning to see if any sapling has shot up from the brown mud. Ah! At last! A chilli sapling peeps out at me from its bed of nutrition and solid foundation. I touch its tender leaves gently, marveling at their beguiling green colour and delicate greenish-white, almost opaque, stem. In my excitement to reap a rich harvest, I have sown too many seeds, I fear, for many more shoot up the next day.
An orange-blossomed ‘abolim’ shrub has survived its transition from a neighbour’s garden to my cosy little pot. I caress as I sing songs to express my love, for it brings back memories of my childhood. Being a city girl, I longed for the annual holidays to Goa, when my cousins and I would collect the flowers from a neighbour’s garden and string abolim garlands. We would then run to a nearby cross and offer them up alongwith a fervent prayer.
A dying lemon grass plant has found its home in my window garden. Its aromatic flavour spices my tea as it refreshes my soul. As does the tulsi shrub that was near-death in the dried-up bed of my Society garden. I do so favour the tulsi as a medicinal herb and an air purifier.
I have sown a handful of coriander seeds in a pot but I do not see any life there yet. I hope and peep, and hope again. The fragrant mogra plant in the Society garden blossomed the other day. I have been plucking a few of its flowers for my altar at home. Some, I place at Mama Mary’s feet as she blesses me with her presence. I had cut off a budding branch of this lovely shrub last week and potted it. Now, in anticipation, I check each part of the slender stem for signs of life and breathe a sigh of relief that, at least, it hasn’t withered away and died yet.
The ‘money plant’ occupies a quiet shady place in the corner of my little garden. As it grows and twines around the grille in my window, it will frame my garden with a natural arch. Some say growing a money plant brings wealth; for me it is enough that it gifts me ample oxygen and adds beauty to my window garden.
My son Aaron has been my source of inspiration; he learnt the skill of potting a plant at summer camp “Mama, I want to plant a sapling” he said to me one fine morning. So we potted our first, a curry leaf sapling. I, who had no time for little pleasures before, have suddenly found a hobby to give me happiness.
The friends in my window garden are good friends – they teach me something new everyday - like hope, patience, joy, disappointment, abundant life. When I talk to them, I hope they listen. When I sing to them, I know they dance. They give me, not just material benefits, but spiritual gifts as well.
I have prepared the compost for ‘friends’ yet to come and collected discarded pots so they can stay with me for a long time. I don’t know as yet which ones they will be; I pick them not for their usefulness or beauty but for my happiness, you see.
Plants need love and quality time just like we do. A renowned scientist, Dr. J.C. Bose, once proved to the world that plants too have feelings. He even recorded those feelings using a device he invented called the crescograph. He showed how delighted plants were to hear soft soothing sounds like that from a violin and how agitated they got when loud screeching music was played, like acid metal rock.
The friends in my window garden have very little space to grow in the concrete jungle I call my home. But I am certain they feel at home with me because I do love them with all my heart. (735 words)
Praise Jesus! Thank you Mama Mary!
Wrote a letter to Herald asking to inform about my status with the middles as they have stopped printing my articles in the fortnightly slot. Today one I sent in June has come but the ones sent in Dec 2009 and Jan-Feb 2010 have not yet come. Altogether 8 are still pending with them. They are - My Little Princess, The Sacrosanct Secretary, Dead Man Listening, Hotline is Busy! Try Later!, How to Get Fat in 10 Days, Madness for Madeira, A Few of My Favourite Things and SMS Mess.
Postin ‘My Ivory Tower Garden’ for you; the unedited version, of course.
Maria, Junior Herald editor, said that Short stories will be stalled for now as no ILLUSTRATOR! I am extremely surprised that they are so disorganized. Why tell someone to write if there is no one to illustrate. And why have a stupid policy of illustrating stories in the first place. Are all stories illustrated? I have so many un-illustrated books written by Enid Blyton in my library cupboard. I think its all hogwash. I’ve sent one story to Navhind Times for Zest which is printed on Sat. and two stories to Young Buzz, a children’s newspaper that invites short stories for writers. Let’s hope they can do my stories justice. Keep praying for this, Sajla. Sahir deserves it; he is such a sweet boy.
I end with a saying “Every new opinion, at its starting, is precisely in a minority of one”.---Thomas Carlyle.
From the heart,
Auriel.
MY IVORY TOWER GARDEN.
The monsoons are soon approaching; perhaps when this goes into print it will be in full spate. The sowing and planting bug has gotten to me too. Like the farmer who sows seed in hope of a fruitful harvest, I have planted my favourite little herbs and shrubs, not in a vast field, but in tiny little pots in the space beyond the grille of my box window.
I feel the same anxiety that the farmer feels when I rush every morning to see if any sapling has shot up from the brown mud. Ah! At last! A chilli sapling peeps out at me from its bed of nutrition and solid foundation. I touch its tender leaves gently, marveling at their beguiling green colour and delicate greenish-white, almost opaque, stem. In my excitement to reap a rich harvest, I have sown too many seeds, I fear, for many more shoot up the next day.
An orange-blossomed ‘abolim’ shrub has survived its transition from a neighbour’s garden to my cosy little pot. I caress as I sing songs to express my love, for it brings back memories of my childhood. Being a city girl, I longed for the annual holidays to Goa, when my cousins and I would collect the flowers from a neighbour’s garden and string abolim garlands. We would then run to a nearby cross and offer them up alongwith a fervent prayer.
A dying lemon grass plant has found its home in my window garden. Its aromatic flavour spices my tea as it refreshes my soul. As does the tulsi shrub that was near-death in the dried-up bed of my Society garden. I do so favour the tulsi as a medicinal herb and an air purifier.
I have sown a handful of coriander seeds in a pot but I do not see any life there yet. I hope and peep, and hope again. The fragrant mogra plant in the Society garden blossomed the other day. I have been plucking a few of its flowers for my altar at home. Some, I place at Mama Mary’s feet as she blesses me with her presence. I had cut off a budding branch of this lovely shrub last week and potted it. Now, in anticipation, I check each part of the slender stem for signs of life and breathe a sigh of relief that, at least, it hasn’t withered away and died yet.
The ‘money plant’ occupies a quiet shady place in the corner of my little garden. As it grows and twines around the grille in my window, it will frame my garden with a natural arch. Some say growing a money plant brings wealth; for me it is enough that it gifts me ample oxygen and adds beauty to my window garden.
My son Aaron has been my source of inspiration; he learnt the skill of potting a plant at summer camp “Mama, I want to plant a sapling” he said to me one fine morning. So we potted our first, a curry leaf sapling. I, who had no time for little pleasures before, have suddenly found a hobby to give me happiness.
The friends in my window garden are good friends – they teach me something new everyday - like hope, patience, joy, disappointment, abundant life. When I talk to them, I hope they listen. When I sing to them, I know they dance. They give me, not just material benefits, but spiritual gifts as well.
I have prepared the compost for ‘friends’ yet to come and collected discarded pots so they can stay with me for a long time. I don’t know as yet which ones they will be; I pick them not for their usefulness or beauty but for my happiness, you see.
Plants need love and quality time just like we do. A renowned scientist, Dr. J.C. Bose, once proved to the world that plants too have feelings. He even recorded those feelings using a device he invented called the crescograph. He showed how delighted plants were to hear soft soothing sounds like that from a violin and how agitated they got when loud screeching music was played, like acid metal rock.
The friends in my window garden have very little space to grow in the concrete jungle I call my home. But I am certain they feel at home with me because I do love them with all my heart. (735 words)
Wednesday, June 30, 2010
Hi Googlies, 1/7/10
Praise Jesus! Thank you Mama Mary!
Was really delighted to see my first OPininionatED printed on 29th. Topic was ‘RTE: An Act of Child Labour.’ I told Glenn to post the text of that article with my last posting so you all have already read it by now, I guess.
Maria, I scanned the photos you sent but could not figure out who Charmaine is. Tell her I loved the cake she made for RM. I sent a ltr to Roshan Dixit but no reply. If you are in touch, tell him I said Hi.
Vishu has written the second part of his new book. I hope you are accessing his blog. He tells me when he posts now so I can read and he accesses my blog as well. Hi, Vi$h!
Here is “How to Get Fat in 10 days.” especially for you, Sajla. ENJOY!
From the heart,
Auriel.
HOW TO GET FAT IN 10 DAYS
My mirror cracked! “Mirror, Mirror, on the wall, tell me who is the fattest of all?” Yeah, that’s exactly when my mirror let out a huge chuckle and cracked up.
I have been battling with my senseless senses for as long as I can remember. My mind tells my body “Control”. My body tells my tongue, “Not another binge.” My heart tells my mind “I’m so miserable.” My mind tells my hands, “Just a nibble, a small bite.” But from that one delicious tempting bite, it becomes a mega-bite and then a giga-bite till my stomach protests “Time to quit”
Actually, it’s really easy to get fat. You just need to find an excuse to stuff yourself with all the forbidden foods not likely to be in the beauty pageant’s a la carte. So here’s my recipe of the perfect diet for those who want to ‘Get Fat in 10 Days.’
· Wake up in the morning to a fully loaded breakfast of butter paranthas, milk straight from the cow, followed by an hour in front of the idiot box, crunching salt-smothered wafers that are chock full of calories.
· For lunch, a mountain of white rice drowned in coconut curry, fried fish/chicken if you are not a veggie, paneer tikkas if you are, followed by a huge bowl of ice-cream or pudding. If you have place left in your tummy, a second serving of dessert is advised. Or even a third and a fourth. Feel free.
· An afternoon nap is a must to avoid any exertion after heavy meals.
· Wake up in time for a scrumptious tea accompanied by oily pakodas or oily bhajias or oily pancakes. Oil, butter, ghee; these are the only tools to quick weight gain, supplemented by lack of exercise, of course.
· Dinner should be taken just before going to sleep so all the calories gained can be put to good use to increase the fat in your body. Have a blast! Going to a trendy restaurant will enhance your chances of adding more weight. They do the ‘oil thing’ with style. A late night movie especially a long-winded Hindi melodrama will also give you sufficient time to dig into a wholesome tetrapack of butterscotch ice-cream, emptying it right down to the bottom. Or you could finish that huge box of chocolate Aunty Anita sent you from the States, what do you think?
· In between these four main meals, be sure to throw in many mini-meals of oily snacks, chocolates or anything your mother or teacher says is unhealthy for you.
· Try alcohol if you are the adventurous type: beer has been bad-mouthed as the drink for ‘waisters’.
If you follow this diet for 10 days in a row without throwing up or flushing down, you are set for life, let me tell you, because once you put on those extra kilos it is impossible to get them off. Ask my mirror, if you don’t believe me.
A friend of mine wanted me to enroll in an aerobics class. “No way!” I exclaimed, “I tried that once.” “What happened?” she asked, looking puzzled.
“I went, and I twisted, hopped, jumped, stretched and pulled.” I replied. “And by the time I got those darn leotards on, the class was over!”
Fed up with her obesity, a colleague of mine decided to join the gym. She told me she was having a great time but I could not see any significant change in her weight even after a month. So I asked her what she had gained in those 30 days. She slyly disclosed to me that she was going there to flirt with the trainer. “No gym. Just him,” she quipped. Eventually, she did get down to business and lost 4 kilos in 4 years and one husband in a heartbeat.
Being obese is much like carrying two fully packed suitcases with you all day long. The only time you get to put them down is when you are six feet deep. Plus the tremendous pressure on your lungs and heart is awesome. When I climb a flight of stairs, I palpitate as if I have just beaten PT Usha at the Olympics. I huff and puff like the Big Bad Wolf when I make my way up the slope to pick my son from school. My triple chins sit comfortably on my buxom chest; my ‘perpetually pregnant’ paunch completely overshadows my feet. My upper arms jiggle when I do the Birdie Dance; if I liposuction that area, I could fuel an entire city for a day. I fear that the pall-bearers will go on strike when they are commissioned to carry my rotting body to its final resting place. Only the maggots will have a feast, gorging on my voluptuous body and will most certainly ‘Get Fat in 10 days’.
So all you XXXL people out there, I waddle off with famous last words to you “A good time to keep your mouth shut is when you are in front of the fridge” To those who want to reduce, shun all the fun foods that cause your salivary glands to go into overdrive and exercise insanely. To the ultra-slim cocktail stirrers, I have just four words “Get Fat in 10 Days.”
Praise Jesus! Thank you Mama Mary!
Was really delighted to see my first OPininionatED printed on 29th. Topic was ‘RTE: An Act of Child Labour.’ I told Glenn to post the text of that article with my last posting so you all have already read it by now, I guess.
Maria, I scanned the photos you sent but could not figure out who Charmaine is. Tell her I loved the cake she made for RM. I sent a ltr to Roshan Dixit but no reply. If you are in touch, tell him I said Hi.
Vishu has written the second part of his new book. I hope you are accessing his blog. He tells me when he posts now so I can read and he accesses my blog as well. Hi, Vi$h!
Here is “How to Get Fat in 10 days.” especially for you, Sajla. ENJOY!
From the heart,
Auriel.
HOW TO GET FAT IN 10 DAYS
My mirror cracked! “Mirror, Mirror, on the wall, tell me who is the fattest of all?” Yeah, that’s exactly when my mirror let out a huge chuckle and cracked up.
I have been battling with my senseless senses for as long as I can remember. My mind tells my body “Control”. My body tells my tongue, “Not another binge.” My heart tells my mind “I’m so miserable.” My mind tells my hands, “Just a nibble, a small bite.” But from that one delicious tempting bite, it becomes a mega-bite and then a giga-bite till my stomach protests “Time to quit”
Actually, it’s really easy to get fat. You just need to find an excuse to stuff yourself with all the forbidden foods not likely to be in the beauty pageant’s a la carte. So here’s my recipe of the perfect diet for those who want to ‘Get Fat in 10 Days.’
· Wake up in the morning to a fully loaded breakfast of butter paranthas, milk straight from the cow, followed by an hour in front of the idiot box, crunching salt-smothered wafers that are chock full of calories.
· For lunch, a mountain of white rice drowned in coconut curry, fried fish/chicken if you are not a veggie, paneer tikkas if you are, followed by a huge bowl of ice-cream or pudding. If you have place left in your tummy, a second serving of dessert is advised. Or even a third and a fourth. Feel free.
· An afternoon nap is a must to avoid any exertion after heavy meals.
· Wake up in time for a scrumptious tea accompanied by oily pakodas or oily bhajias or oily pancakes. Oil, butter, ghee; these are the only tools to quick weight gain, supplemented by lack of exercise, of course.
· Dinner should be taken just before going to sleep so all the calories gained can be put to good use to increase the fat in your body. Have a blast! Going to a trendy restaurant will enhance your chances of adding more weight. They do the ‘oil thing’ with style. A late night movie especially a long-winded Hindi melodrama will also give you sufficient time to dig into a wholesome tetrapack of butterscotch ice-cream, emptying it right down to the bottom. Or you could finish that huge box of chocolate Aunty Anita sent you from the States, what do you think?
· In between these four main meals, be sure to throw in many mini-meals of oily snacks, chocolates or anything your mother or teacher says is unhealthy for you.
· Try alcohol if you are the adventurous type: beer has been bad-mouthed as the drink for ‘waisters’.
If you follow this diet for 10 days in a row without throwing up or flushing down, you are set for life, let me tell you, because once you put on those extra kilos it is impossible to get them off. Ask my mirror, if you don’t believe me.
A friend of mine wanted me to enroll in an aerobics class. “No way!” I exclaimed, “I tried that once.” “What happened?” she asked, looking puzzled.
“I went, and I twisted, hopped, jumped, stretched and pulled.” I replied. “And by the time I got those darn leotards on, the class was over!”
Fed up with her obesity, a colleague of mine decided to join the gym. She told me she was having a great time but I could not see any significant change in her weight even after a month. So I asked her what she had gained in those 30 days. She slyly disclosed to me that she was going there to flirt with the trainer. “No gym. Just him,” she quipped. Eventually, she did get down to business and lost 4 kilos in 4 years and one husband in a heartbeat.
Being obese is much like carrying two fully packed suitcases with you all day long. The only time you get to put them down is when you are six feet deep. Plus the tremendous pressure on your lungs and heart is awesome. When I climb a flight of stairs, I palpitate as if I have just beaten PT Usha at the Olympics. I huff and puff like the Big Bad Wolf when I make my way up the slope to pick my son from school. My triple chins sit comfortably on my buxom chest; my ‘perpetually pregnant’ paunch completely overshadows my feet. My upper arms jiggle when I do the Birdie Dance; if I liposuction that area, I could fuel an entire city for a day. I fear that the pall-bearers will go on strike when they are commissioned to carry my rotting body to its final resting place. Only the maggots will have a feast, gorging on my voluptuous body and will most certainly ‘Get Fat in 10 days’.
So all you XXXL people out there, I waddle off with famous last words to you “A good time to keep your mouth shut is when you are in front of the fridge” To those who want to reduce, shun all the fun foods that cause your salivary glands to go into overdrive and exercise insanely. To the ultra-slim cocktail stirrers, I have just four words “Get Fat in 10 Days.”
Monday, June 28, 2010
Hi Googlies, 30/6/10
Praise Jesus! Thank you Mama Mary!
Sunday Mirror published an article of mine titled ‘No Presents Please’. Posting it today. Glenn forgot the pen-drive at office hence this is slightly delayed. If you like the art. n any other that I post pl. do forward it to your friends and colleagues.
Milagres, thank you for inspiring this recent article. The retreat has helped me immensely. Am practicing forgiveness as a daily dose of medicine for the soul and it is really working wonders for my spiritual health!
Maria, looking forward to the DVDs of your family and Baby’s christening. Next bday is Reuben’s. Won’t forget this time. So sorry for forgetting Kevin’s, really. Send my Arts to Reshma and Charmaine, ok?
Have decided 100% on home-schooling my smallies. We may movenext year to Old Goa to be close to Glenn’s office. All of us have told Glenn we want a house this time, not a flat. Children are making their list of animals that they wanna have. Sajla, guess the cow will come to our house instead of yours now! J
Have a blessed week ahead to everyone who is reading this mail.. Do write in and give me your views on the article.
From the heart,
Auriel.
NO PRESENTS PLEASE!
Some years ago, we received an invitation to a wedding of a close relative that ended thus: ‘No presents please!’ I gathered that the bride and groom alongwith their parents were saying in effect that ‘we’ were all they needed to make their celebration complete.
Recently, at a programme on child-rearing, I learnt that there are three things a child needs from conception to age seven:
1. Acknowledgement: When the child is conceived in love, it feels wanted. If the parents resent the pregnancy, the child in the womb senses this and feels abandoned. To acknowledge the child right from its moment of conception and to accept it as a gift from God no matter what the circumstances at the time of conception is very essential. This is difficult though when the mother has been raped or is ostracized because she is unwed. Such a woman would rather her child not live to bear the burden society puts on it. But if she understands that the child is innocent and has the right to live just as she does, she may accept it and this will give the child a sense of belonging.
When a child is born, the mother’s presence is very important right from the start. Nowadays, doctors allow the mother to suckle the newborn even before it is taken for a bath, which is a good practice because the baby has just gone through a stressful experience and needs its mother’s presence and reassurance to calm it down.
Women should consider the option of staying at home to nurture the child for the first seven years after birth. I know that most women enjoy working and, for some it is a necessity, but it is in the interest of your child that I make this appeal. When my eldest son was kept in a crèche so I could work, he told me one day that he hated the place because they made him sit in one place all the time and when he felt cold, he was too scared to ask for a blanket. This shook me up so much that I got my husband to adjust his office timings so our son could be at home with one parent all the time. Later, when we moved to Goa, I decided not to work as we had two boys and a third was on the way. Today, I can say with joy that I am happy to be a stay-at-home mother. The kids too are glad that I am there to wake them up, see them off to school and that I am at home to greet them when they return from school.
2. A listening ear: Parents are the best counsellors for their children, provided they know how to listen well. Often we hear the words that are spoken by our children and we react to them. We fail to read the non-verbal communication that is going on alongside. If parents learnt how to interpret this, a lot of the problems that they face with young children and even with teenagers could be resolved. Parental discipline should be administered with love, not as an assertion of one’s power over the child. Putting aside all work and looking at your child directly as he talks to you is a sign to the child that he is important in your life. Ask lots of questions if you are not sure what is being said. As parents, we do tend to assume a lot and understand so little. Get them to solve their own problem by carefully steering them to an appropriate choice so that they feel that the final decision made is theirs, not one imposed by you.
3. Lots of hugs: Apart from acknowledgement and a listening ear, lots of physical touch like hugs, kisses and cuddles are also important for the proper growth of your child. It is easy to cuddle a little baby, but do you cuddle and hug your seven-year-old? (Believe it or not, even my teenage son loves a hug now and then.) Hugs are the best way to say you are sorry when you’ve hurt their feelings or to say they are special when they’ve done something you approve of. A cuddle at night before they go to sleep will leave them with a sense of security as they drift off into Dreamland. Many parents make their small children sleep in a separate room from them. This can be very frightening for a small child, so its best to let them sleep with you until they volunteer to sleep in a separate room on their own. Allow your children to hug, kiss and cuddle you whenever they want to and see the difference it will make to you. (One night, after the rosary was over and we were blessing one another, my three-year-old daughter decided to give everyone a bonus kiss on the cheek. It really felt special.)
If spouses show love for each other in front of their children, it gives them a great sense of well-being. Just by sitting close to your spouse as you’ll watch TV together and, maybe, holding your wife around the shoulders as she snuggles into yours, tells the kids that Mum and Dad are doing OK. Children are very sensitive to feelings and moods; they may not say it, but they sense when parents have had a fight, even if it wasn’t in their presence. So it is important to show them that you are a team after the fight has been resolved. When siblings fight, get them to make up with hugs, cuddles and kisses.
Your children are precious gifts from a gracious God; they deserve nothing but the best. Give them your acknowledgement, a listening ear and lots of hugs so that they grow, bloom and bring fragrant peace to the world around them.
RTE: AN ACT OF CHILD LABOUR.
With a sinking feeling, I read the news that the working hours of schools may be increased to 45 hours per week. (page 5, Herald, 24 June, 2010). That sounds like one more hour a day of imprisonment for teachers and students alike.
A typical school day for an average child begins at 6 am. He is rushed through breakfast and toilet chores, dressed hurriedly for school and then driven at a dashing speed so he can enter the school premises before the warning bell is rung. For almost three hours at a stretch, he sits in one place as one teacher after another walks in, teaches and leaves. Then, for barely 15 minutes, with one eye on the clock, he gets to exercise his cramped muscles in the break. If the mid-day meal is served in those 15 minutes, all hope of getting even this exercise is lost. Then, once more, he has to sit in cramped conditions for another three hours before he is ‘released’. If anyone has seen children leave for home after school, it looks as if prisoners are being released from a jail. Is this the kind of life that a child from three-fourteen years of age is condemned to live?
And what exactly is done in school? The text is read, explained, answers written and rote-learned and some extra-curricular activities thrown in for good measure. Teachers, bogged down by completion of syllabi and corrections of books, have neither the time nor the energy to train all their students for these ‘extras’, so they choose a few ‘good’ ones while the vast majority is left by the wayside. The school prides itself on its trophies, shields and certificates and those who earn these prizes for the school are applauded.
If working hours are increased, the children would be imprisoned for another whole hour every day. Ask any child if he wants that and the answer will be a flat and empathic ‘No’. But who is concerned about the needs of children after all? They must be educated; the Right to Education demands this. Whether the means satisfy the ends or not, it doesn’t matter. The means cannot be altered so the sheep must be herded; the cattle brought in faithfully.
Parents ought to seek other options and one emerging on the horizon is HOME SCHOOLING! After all, the present generation of parents are an educated lot. Why can’t they teach their own children? If the government allows parents to prepare their children for examinations held periodically, home-schooling would enable parents to be teachers in the home. Activities like dramatics, dance, music, elocutions and debates could be organised in the school premises and sports could be conducted on the grounds on a regular basis for interested students. The home schooling programme presently prevalent in Goa prepares children to appear through the National Institute of Open Schooling (NIOS), which has ‘a mission to provide relevant continuing education at school stage, up to pre-degree level through Open Learning system as an alternative to formal system.’ It provides opportunities to interested learners by making available the following Courses/Programmes of Study through open and distance learning (ODL) mode.
· Open Basic Education (OBE) Programme for 14+ years age group, adolescents and adults at A, B and C levels that are equivalent to classes III, V and VIII of the formal school system.
· Secondary Education Course
· Senior Secondary Education Course
· Vocational Education Courses/Programmes
· Life Enrichment Programmes.
In NIOS, one can choose the subjects that the child is comfortable learning to train him for these levels. For example, a child weak in Mathematics can drop it entirely; this option is not offered at the mainstream level. English and Hindi are offered at the SSCE level so those who find it difficult to cope with Konkani need not learn it. Parents can begin teaching their children at any age. The ideal age to begin reading and writing would be six years as against that of the formal system which prepares children at three years of age. A child can be taught at home by the play-way/ Montessori method from three to six years of age.
The advantages of home schooling is that children get personal attention and the strengths of each child can be enhanced. Children get closer to their parents when they spend more time with them. The financial costs of schooling is restricted to the purchase of text and note books only; no uniforms, shoes, bags, water-bottles, etc. Time-table is flexible; it can be geared to the child’s optimum level of attention. As the child learns at his own pace, stress on him is zero. Children do not have to be ‘reached’ to school so their safety and the transport expenses involved is avoided. Children with learning disorders thrive well in this system as they would be harassed and ridiculed in the mainstream school by teachers and classmates. One can incorporate many syllabi like CBSE and ICSE alongside SSC and use varied audio-visual aids at home, making learning a fun experience. Mainstream schools do not stress on moral values as much as they do academic performance, so with home-schooling, a parent can instill the right values right from the beginning.
The disadvantages of home schooling are lack of social interaction and lack of discipline. To overcome these two obstacles, parents have to make a significant effort to seek avenues where children are exposed to social activities in the community, religious institutions and support groups. Parents, themselves, need training on teaching methods, creating an environment conducive to learning, how to instil discipline and so on. As the children learn organisational skills and team work from interacting at various social events, there will be a more disciplined approach to life on the whole.
Home-schooling is a tremendous challenge for parents as one has to swim against the tide. Society questions such changes and tends to put down those who want to make a difference. The government needs to re-evaluate its RTE policy to include home-schooling for those who can effectively implement it. Today education has become a business of sorts; a stormy situation. Let us not be pulled in by its treacherous undercurrents, but learn to survive the tempest by seeking better options for our future generations. If any educational policy is child-centred, it can never go wrong.
Praise Jesus! Thank you Mama Mary!
Sunday Mirror published an article of mine titled ‘No Presents Please’. Posting it today. Glenn forgot the pen-drive at office hence this is slightly delayed. If you like the art. n any other that I post pl. do forward it to your friends and colleagues.
Milagres, thank you for inspiring this recent article. The retreat has helped me immensely. Am practicing forgiveness as a daily dose of medicine for the soul and it is really working wonders for my spiritual health!
Maria, looking forward to the DVDs of your family and Baby’s christening. Next bday is Reuben’s. Won’t forget this time. So sorry for forgetting Kevin’s, really. Send my Arts to Reshma and Charmaine, ok?
Have decided 100% on home-schooling my smallies. We may movenext year to Old Goa to be close to Glenn’s office. All of us have told Glenn we want a house this time, not a flat. Children are making their list of animals that they wanna have. Sajla, guess the cow will come to our house instead of yours now! J
Have a blessed week ahead to everyone who is reading this mail.. Do write in and give me your views on the article.
From the heart,
Auriel.
NO PRESENTS PLEASE!
Some years ago, we received an invitation to a wedding of a close relative that ended thus: ‘No presents please!’ I gathered that the bride and groom alongwith their parents were saying in effect that ‘we’ were all they needed to make their celebration complete.
Recently, at a programme on child-rearing, I learnt that there are three things a child needs from conception to age seven:
1. Acknowledgement: When the child is conceived in love, it feels wanted. If the parents resent the pregnancy, the child in the womb senses this and feels abandoned. To acknowledge the child right from its moment of conception and to accept it as a gift from God no matter what the circumstances at the time of conception is very essential. This is difficult though when the mother has been raped or is ostracized because she is unwed. Such a woman would rather her child not live to bear the burden society puts on it. But if she understands that the child is innocent and has the right to live just as she does, she may accept it and this will give the child a sense of belonging.
When a child is born, the mother’s presence is very important right from the start. Nowadays, doctors allow the mother to suckle the newborn even before it is taken for a bath, which is a good practice because the baby has just gone through a stressful experience and needs its mother’s presence and reassurance to calm it down.
Women should consider the option of staying at home to nurture the child for the first seven years after birth. I know that most women enjoy working and, for some it is a necessity, but it is in the interest of your child that I make this appeal. When my eldest son was kept in a crèche so I could work, he told me one day that he hated the place because they made him sit in one place all the time and when he felt cold, he was too scared to ask for a blanket. This shook me up so much that I got my husband to adjust his office timings so our son could be at home with one parent all the time. Later, when we moved to Goa, I decided not to work as we had two boys and a third was on the way. Today, I can say with joy that I am happy to be a stay-at-home mother. The kids too are glad that I am there to wake them up, see them off to school and that I am at home to greet them when they return from school.
2. A listening ear: Parents are the best counsellors for their children, provided they know how to listen well. Often we hear the words that are spoken by our children and we react to them. We fail to read the non-verbal communication that is going on alongside. If parents learnt how to interpret this, a lot of the problems that they face with young children and even with teenagers could be resolved. Parental discipline should be administered with love, not as an assertion of one’s power over the child. Putting aside all work and looking at your child directly as he talks to you is a sign to the child that he is important in your life. Ask lots of questions if you are not sure what is being said. As parents, we do tend to assume a lot and understand so little. Get them to solve their own problem by carefully steering them to an appropriate choice so that they feel that the final decision made is theirs, not one imposed by you.
3. Lots of hugs: Apart from acknowledgement and a listening ear, lots of physical touch like hugs, kisses and cuddles are also important for the proper growth of your child. It is easy to cuddle a little baby, but do you cuddle and hug your seven-year-old? (Believe it or not, even my teenage son loves a hug now and then.) Hugs are the best way to say you are sorry when you’ve hurt their feelings or to say they are special when they’ve done something you approve of. A cuddle at night before they go to sleep will leave them with a sense of security as they drift off into Dreamland. Many parents make their small children sleep in a separate room from them. This can be very frightening for a small child, so its best to let them sleep with you until they volunteer to sleep in a separate room on their own. Allow your children to hug, kiss and cuddle you whenever they want to and see the difference it will make to you. (One night, after the rosary was over and we were blessing one another, my three-year-old daughter decided to give everyone a bonus kiss on the cheek. It really felt special.)
If spouses show love for each other in front of their children, it gives them a great sense of well-being. Just by sitting close to your spouse as you’ll watch TV together and, maybe, holding your wife around the shoulders as she snuggles into yours, tells the kids that Mum and Dad are doing OK. Children are very sensitive to feelings and moods; they may not say it, but they sense when parents have had a fight, even if it wasn’t in their presence. So it is important to show them that you are a team after the fight has been resolved. When siblings fight, get them to make up with hugs, cuddles and kisses.
Your children are precious gifts from a gracious God; they deserve nothing but the best. Give them your acknowledgement, a listening ear and lots of hugs so that they grow, bloom and bring fragrant peace to the world around them.
RTE: AN ACT OF CHILD LABOUR.
With a sinking feeling, I read the news that the working hours of schools may be increased to 45 hours per week. (page 5, Herald, 24 June, 2010). That sounds like one more hour a day of imprisonment for teachers and students alike.
A typical school day for an average child begins at 6 am. He is rushed through breakfast and toilet chores, dressed hurriedly for school and then driven at a dashing speed so he can enter the school premises before the warning bell is rung. For almost three hours at a stretch, he sits in one place as one teacher after another walks in, teaches and leaves. Then, for barely 15 minutes, with one eye on the clock, he gets to exercise his cramped muscles in the break. If the mid-day meal is served in those 15 minutes, all hope of getting even this exercise is lost. Then, once more, he has to sit in cramped conditions for another three hours before he is ‘released’. If anyone has seen children leave for home after school, it looks as if prisoners are being released from a jail. Is this the kind of life that a child from three-fourteen years of age is condemned to live?
And what exactly is done in school? The text is read, explained, answers written and rote-learned and some extra-curricular activities thrown in for good measure. Teachers, bogged down by completion of syllabi and corrections of books, have neither the time nor the energy to train all their students for these ‘extras’, so they choose a few ‘good’ ones while the vast majority is left by the wayside. The school prides itself on its trophies, shields and certificates and those who earn these prizes for the school are applauded.
If working hours are increased, the children would be imprisoned for another whole hour every day. Ask any child if he wants that and the answer will be a flat and empathic ‘No’. But who is concerned about the needs of children after all? They must be educated; the Right to Education demands this. Whether the means satisfy the ends or not, it doesn’t matter. The means cannot be altered so the sheep must be herded; the cattle brought in faithfully.
Parents ought to seek other options and one emerging on the horizon is HOME SCHOOLING! After all, the present generation of parents are an educated lot. Why can’t they teach their own children? If the government allows parents to prepare their children for examinations held periodically, home-schooling would enable parents to be teachers in the home. Activities like dramatics, dance, music, elocutions and debates could be organised in the school premises and sports could be conducted on the grounds on a regular basis for interested students. The home schooling programme presently prevalent in Goa prepares children to appear through the National Institute of Open Schooling (NIOS), which has ‘a mission to provide relevant continuing education at school stage, up to pre-degree level through Open Learning system as an alternative to formal system.’ It provides opportunities to interested learners by making available the following Courses/Programmes of Study through open and distance learning (ODL) mode.
· Open Basic Education (OBE) Programme for 14+ years age group, adolescents and adults at A, B and C levels that are equivalent to classes III, V and VIII of the formal school system.
· Secondary Education Course
· Senior Secondary Education Course
· Vocational Education Courses/Programmes
· Life Enrichment Programmes.
In NIOS, one can choose the subjects that the child is comfortable learning to train him for these levels. For example, a child weak in Mathematics can drop it entirely; this option is not offered at the mainstream level. English and Hindi are offered at the SSCE level so those who find it difficult to cope with Konkani need not learn it. Parents can begin teaching their children at any age. The ideal age to begin reading and writing would be six years as against that of the formal system which prepares children at three years of age. A child can be taught at home by the play-way/ Montessori method from three to six years of age.
The advantages of home schooling is that children get personal attention and the strengths of each child can be enhanced. Children get closer to their parents when they spend more time with them. The financial costs of schooling is restricted to the purchase of text and note books only; no uniforms, shoes, bags, water-bottles, etc. Time-table is flexible; it can be geared to the child’s optimum level of attention. As the child learns at his own pace, stress on him is zero. Children do not have to be ‘reached’ to school so their safety and the transport expenses involved is avoided. Children with learning disorders thrive well in this system as they would be harassed and ridiculed in the mainstream school by teachers and classmates. One can incorporate many syllabi like CBSE and ICSE alongside SSC and use varied audio-visual aids at home, making learning a fun experience. Mainstream schools do not stress on moral values as much as they do academic performance, so with home-schooling, a parent can instill the right values right from the beginning.
The disadvantages of home schooling are lack of social interaction and lack of discipline. To overcome these two obstacles, parents have to make a significant effort to seek avenues where children are exposed to social activities in the community, religious institutions and support groups. Parents, themselves, need training on teaching methods, creating an environment conducive to learning, how to instil discipline and so on. As the children learn organisational skills and team work from interacting at various social events, there will be a more disciplined approach to life on the whole.
Home-schooling is a tremendous challenge for parents as one has to swim against the tide. Society questions such changes and tends to put down those who want to make a difference. The government needs to re-evaluate its RTE policy to include home-schooling for those who can effectively implement it. Today education has become a business of sorts; a stormy situation. Let us not be pulled in by its treacherous undercurrents, but learn to survive the tempest by seeking better options for our future generations. If any educational policy is child-centred, it can never go wrong.
Sunday, June 6, 2010
Hi Googlies, 6/6/10
Praise Jesus! Thank you Mama Mary!
I have made a wonderful retreat for the first time and feel I can now cope with my problems. Every time I attended retreats, people told me my problems would be solved; no one told me to go to get to know Jesus only. This time I went to learn about pro-life so I had no desire to be healed or anything. I think because my intention was according to His will, He gave me his healing too. I have to work at my insecurity problems but I now have the key in God’s Word. You know what I mean, no? When you need to enter a room full of treasures that is locked, you need the key. So, to get out of a room filled with insecurities, I need a key too. It is not a one-second instant healing but I feel this is far better for it will be forever now. Like a never-ending journey with a beautiful scenic view.
The kids were safe there even though they were not supervised. I used to pray before the sessions for their safety. Baby did trouble me periodically but it wasn’t that bad.
I could get almost all the teaching.
Two days more and school will begin. I wish I could home school my ‘smallies’. I am praying for home-schooling for Charis Ann. When I think of pulling out Aaron and Nathan though I get jittery but the preacher said he had taken his daughter out when she was in the 9th Std. Also Glenn must agree. And I must be confident of the method. I have prayed for discernment. I always had this thing in my head that children should not be pressurized to perform and that is why I never sent Kirsten for tuitions in the tenth and even now in 12th.
My middle ‘Playing Second Fiddle’ was published yday. Posting the unedited version here for you all to read.
Take care. Have a blessed week ahead. Do write in and give me your views on the article.
From the heart,
Auriel.
PLAYING SECOND FIDDLE
Someone asked a famous conductor of a great symphony orchestra which instrument he considered the most difficult to play. The conductor thought a moment, and then said: “Second fiddle. I can get plenty of violinists. But to find one who can play second fiddle with enthusiasm – that’s a problem. And if we have no second fiddles, we have no harmony.”
In every home, office or public place where a group of people get together to create something new, there are people who are called to play ‘second fiddle’.
Take the home arena for instance. The boss of the house, the one who always blows his trumpet or twangs the strings, is the husband. The poor wife often has to play second fiddle, doing all the household chores without a ‘note of protest’. The wheels of the house run smoothly because of her. Harmony in the home can be rightfully attributed to her patient humble service. Although she may sometimes nag her husband within the four walls of their humble abode, you will rarely hear her speak against him when they are at a party or any such public gathering. In fact, she will grab every opportunity to praise him to the skies and will accept his condescending remarks with the grace of a well-seasoned martyr. A good wife knows how to create harmony by playing the second fiddle to the hilt.
We see the same scene at the work place. The workers, peons, janitors, deliverymen all serve the purpose of second fiddles. They weave their invisible selves into the tapestry of every day routine; without them, the CEOs and Managers would be stumped. Every time the workers’ union decides to go on strike, management gets into a tizzy. Each unproductive day costs big bucks. So you see, our second fiddles at the workplace create the much-needed harmony, after all.
In the public arena, a leader naturally hogs the limelight along with his coterie of ‘chota’ leaders and embryonic leaders-in-the-making. He wins all the applauses, hogs all the credit and is given substantial perks, which could swell his head to blowing-up proportions. What about the ‘second fiddles’- the body guards, PAs, secretaries? Even a bonus is given to them with reluctance.
Flip the coin and you have lazy second fiddles. The peon who sleeps with his mouth open or the janitor who drags his feet as he drags his pail to pass the day. Government offices seem to have people especially trained to be such second fiddles. But don’t they reflect the attitude of their bosses? I would say boldly, if I may, that the attitude of the boss determines that of the worker.
Happy is the second fiddle, then, who knows he’s a second fiddle and accepts his role with enthusiasm, taking the cue from his conductor and creating harmony in the Orchestra of Life. He has the best quality that God looks for in his creation – Humility! He works, not for fame or money, but out of an inner desire to be one with his group. To take them to greater heights. And when the stage is lit and the leaders strut the ramp to take their bows, the ‘second fiddle’ sits in the corner of the stage, manning the curtains. For him, there is not much gain except his pay packet, but, because of him, everyone profits and there is prosperity all round. Take him out of the equation and what have you? Utter chaos! Only Noise!
So it is time we salute the second fiddles in our homes, our place of work and in the public arena. Smile and say a Good Morning or Namaste to your peon or janitor today. Like Munnabhai MBBS, try a ‘Chappi” on them if you can. Learn the name of your garbage collector. Visit your maid at her home some day soon. Give your postman a glass of cool water or sherbet as you enquire about his work.
The municipal workers are busy digging trenches to combat the ensuing monsoons. Stop and show genuine interest in their work and supply them with hydrating fluids as they slog in the scorching summer sun. Don’t wait for annual festivals to give them that much-awaited ‘Bakshish’; your words of praise are worth more than that small perk, I bet!
We ‘trash’ migrants because they are a threat to our employment and environment. But they are only playing second fiddle to the mega-buck builders. They too need our concern and care.
Lastly, don’t forget to acknowledge your wife’s contribution in making your home a heaven on earth. Treat her to a special outing, just you and her, and shower her with daily doses of love and appreciation. Help her complete her tiring and tiresome chores quickly so the two of you can spend some ‘We’ time together.
And if you are a second fiddle, play your piece with enthusiasm; create soulful music for your Creator. And if you feel no enthusiasm right now, motivate yourself by fine-tuning your strings. For without you, there is no harmony. If music be the food of love, play on. (850 words)
Praise Jesus! Thank you Mama Mary!
I have made a wonderful retreat for the first time and feel I can now cope with my problems. Every time I attended retreats, people told me my problems would be solved; no one told me to go to get to know Jesus only. This time I went to learn about pro-life so I had no desire to be healed or anything. I think because my intention was according to His will, He gave me his healing too. I have to work at my insecurity problems but I now have the key in God’s Word. You know what I mean, no? When you need to enter a room full of treasures that is locked, you need the key. So, to get out of a room filled with insecurities, I need a key too. It is not a one-second instant healing but I feel this is far better for it will be forever now. Like a never-ending journey with a beautiful scenic view.
The kids were safe there even though they were not supervised. I used to pray before the sessions for their safety. Baby did trouble me periodically but it wasn’t that bad.
I could get almost all the teaching.
Two days more and school will begin. I wish I could home school my ‘smallies’. I am praying for home-schooling for Charis Ann. When I think of pulling out Aaron and Nathan though I get jittery but the preacher said he had taken his daughter out when she was in the 9th Std. Also Glenn must agree. And I must be confident of the method. I have prayed for discernment. I always had this thing in my head that children should not be pressurized to perform and that is why I never sent Kirsten for tuitions in the tenth and even now in 12th.
My middle ‘Playing Second Fiddle’ was published yday. Posting the unedited version here for you all to read.
Take care. Have a blessed week ahead. Do write in and give me your views on the article.
From the heart,
Auriel.
PLAYING SECOND FIDDLE
Someone asked a famous conductor of a great symphony orchestra which instrument he considered the most difficult to play. The conductor thought a moment, and then said: “Second fiddle. I can get plenty of violinists. But to find one who can play second fiddle with enthusiasm – that’s a problem. And if we have no second fiddles, we have no harmony.”
In every home, office or public place where a group of people get together to create something new, there are people who are called to play ‘second fiddle’.
Take the home arena for instance. The boss of the house, the one who always blows his trumpet or twangs the strings, is the husband. The poor wife often has to play second fiddle, doing all the household chores without a ‘note of protest’. The wheels of the house run smoothly because of her. Harmony in the home can be rightfully attributed to her patient humble service. Although she may sometimes nag her husband within the four walls of their humble abode, you will rarely hear her speak against him when they are at a party or any such public gathering. In fact, she will grab every opportunity to praise him to the skies and will accept his condescending remarks with the grace of a well-seasoned martyr. A good wife knows how to create harmony by playing the second fiddle to the hilt.
We see the same scene at the work place. The workers, peons, janitors, deliverymen all serve the purpose of second fiddles. They weave their invisible selves into the tapestry of every day routine; without them, the CEOs and Managers would be stumped. Every time the workers’ union decides to go on strike, management gets into a tizzy. Each unproductive day costs big bucks. So you see, our second fiddles at the workplace create the much-needed harmony, after all.
In the public arena, a leader naturally hogs the limelight along with his coterie of ‘chota’ leaders and embryonic leaders-in-the-making. He wins all the applauses, hogs all the credit and is given substantial perks, which could swell his head to blowing-up proportions. What about the ‘second fiddles’- the body guards, PAs, secretaries? Even a bonus is given to them with reluctance.
Flip the coin and you have lazy second fiddles. The peon who sleeps with his mouth open or the janitor who drags his feet as he drags his pail to pass the day. Government offices seem to have people especially trained to be such second fiddles. But don’t they reflect the attitude of their bosses? I would say boldly, if I may, that the attitude of the boss determines that of the worker.
Happy is the second fiddle, then, who knows he’s a second fiddle and accepts his role with enthusiasm, taking the cue from his conductor and creating harmony in the Orchestra of Life. He has the best quality that God looks for in his creation – Humility! He works, not for fame or money, but out of an inner desire to be one with his group. To take them to greater heights. And when the stage is lit and the leaders strut the ramp to take their bows, the ‘second fiddle’ sits in the corner of the stage, manning the curtains. For him, there is not much gain except his pay packet, but, because of him, everyone profits and there is prosperity all round. Take him out of the equation and what have you? Utter chaos! Only Noise!
So it is time we salute the second fiddles in our homes, our place of work and in the public arena. Smile and say a Good Morning or Namaste to your peon or janitor today. Like Munnabhai MBBS, try a ‘Chappi” on them if you can. Learn the name of your garbage collector. Visit your maid at her home some day soon. Give your postman a glass of cool water or sherbet as you enquire about his work.
The municipal workers are busy digging trenches to combat the ensuing monsoons. Stop and show genuine interest in their work and supply them with hydrating fluids as they slog in the scorching summer sun. Don’t wait for annual festivals to give them that much-awaited ‘Bakshish’; your words of praise are worth more than that small perk, I bet!
We ‘trash’ migrants because they are a threat to our employment and environment. But they are only playing second fiddle to the mega-buck builders. They too need our concern and care.
Lastly, don’t forget to acknowledge your wife’s contribution in making your home a heaven on earth. Treat her to a special outing, just you and her, and shower her with daily doses of love and appreciation. Help her complete her tiring and tiresome chores quickly so the two of you can spend some ‘We’ time together.
And if you are a second fiddle, play your piece with enthusiasm; create soulful music for your Creator. And if you feel no enthusiasm right now, motivate yourself by fine-tuning your strings. For without you, there is no harmony. If music be the food of love, play on. (850 words)
Monday, May 31, 2010
Hi Googlies, 29/5/10
PTL! Thank you Mama Mary!
I celebrated my 41st Bday on 26th with family. Nothing special; just shopping at Panjim. My brand-crazy Kirsten bought an Adidas for the next academic year and I picked up an equally expensive school bag from Poshak for Nathan. Glenn had taken the smallies to Campal grounds where they had a blast on the slides. The kids voted for Pizza at Domino’s, Porvorim as their dinner, which I regretted agreeing to. Was ripped of Rs. 600/- for two measly pizzas. The crust was great but I could have made a better filling, I do declare! Well, no more ‘branded’ dinners for me ever and that’s a vow, not an empty promise.
The ‘pig’ incident with Carmona, Churchill and Raheja tickled me no end so I wrote a story which I will post here as Herald refuses these kind of ‘poking fun at pols’ articles nowadays. ENJOY! Hope you all liked the previous play I posted; that too was a Herald ‘reject’. Herald resurrected one article I had sent to Goa’s Heartbeat three months back; gave it a makeover and so I was pleasantly surprised. Ana says its my bday gift. Yeah, Well? So this month has been a good one with five articles printed so far.
Hols are coming to an end and I am the same size, weight and off chocs and sweets but I can’t seem to give up my coffee binges. God Help!
This Sun., I become a godmother for the third time: Baby Rosemary is in Australia so Maria has made her friend Reshma as my proxy and her hubby Victor to substitute for Glenn.
Chalo then. Do keep reading and post some feedback please to glenn@microngold.com
From the heart,
Auriel.
THE FOUR LITTLE PIGS
(adapted from that popular tale of triumph of good over evil)
Once upon a time in the sleepy old village of Carmona, there lived four little pigs. They were the protégées of a massive mother sow who was respected for her pedigree and yearly donations of piglets to the villagers.
One day, when the four piglets went for their regular morning stroll around the village, they noticed that the vacant plot next door, belonging to Pedro Camille, was filled with rubble. “What’s happening here?” exclaimed the eldest piglet. “Looks as if the owners were digging for gold but have found rubbish.” “Rubbish, my foot.” countered the youngest piglet. “This is land-filling going on, if I’m not mistaken. Let’s go tell Mummy.”
The four piglets ran back to the mother sow and told her what they had seen. Listening patiently, the sow nodded her head once or twice, then bored, she gave out a loud yawn and went back to sleep in the pool of mud. The four piglets were perplexed. “Why is Mummy not bothered about this?” they wondered.
Just then, the Sarpanch of the village came down the lane. He was going for a morning walk. The piglets stopped him and narrated what they had seen. “Oink! Oink! I know! I know!” said Panch de Carmona. “Pedro told me he was developing his plot. So what’s the problem?”
“But ‘Punch’ uncle, we saw a big sign there that read ‘Ra Hijda builders’. It was a strange name for a Goan so we got worried.”
“What! The rascal! He very clearly told me that he was employing a local builder and the flats would be sold to our people. I must look into this matter immediately.” squealed an obviously agitated Panch. He marched off to have a word with Pedro.
The piglets returned back to the sty. Their mother was still lolling in the mud. “Mummy, the sarpanch says that there seems to be something wrong going on in Pedro Camille’s plot. We fear that things may go wrong here as well. Let’s build our own home and be safe.” So the mother sow stood up, shook the mud off her body and waddled off to the market with the four piglets. There, they bought straw to build a house. They started building their house as soon as they reached Pedro Camille’s plot. The house ready, the family of five settled down for a cosy siesta.
Soon their calm afternoon was rudely disturbed by a loud yell outside the door. “Oh, Du-khors, come out of your house. I am hungry for ‘Du-Du’.” The mother sow peeped out and saw a Big Mad Wolf, standing on the doorstep, huffing and puffing like a steam engine about to begin its marathon run. “Children, we must flee at once. The BMW has come to eat us up.” Exiting from the backdoor, the four piglets ran with their mother into the neighbouring plot.
The BMW huffed and puffed vigorously and blew the house down. As the straw flew into the air, he let out a huge guffaw and sang in a baritone voice, “The answer, my friends, is blowing in the wind, the answer…..” The four piglets were incensed at this arrogant attitude, but being small and helpless, they knew they were no match for the BMW.
“Let’s rebuild the house. This time we’ll make it stronger so that the Wolf won’t be able to tear it down so easily.” said Mother pig. So once again the five squealers went to the market where they purchased logs to make a cabin. Upon returning back to Pedro’s plot, they saw that the panch members had gathered the villagers there and they were shouting slogans. Some villagers came forward to help the pigs build their house, saying: “Even the pigs of our village need a home to live in. We won’t allow Pedro to sell his place to a Hijda.”
And so once more, a sturdy house built of logs was erected for the pigs and all was well for a while.
Then a terrible storm rose up from the South. The pigs heard a loud ‘honk’ of the BMW coming down the lane. “Who has dared to build a house in my territory?” thundered the furious hillbilly. “I will transfer him to Pernem!”
The piglets shivered with fright but the mother pig was brave. She told them to hide under the bed. The BMW huffed and he puffed and the cabin came down. “Ha, Ha! Now I will finish you pigs. All you know to do is squeal when you are caught.”
The pigs somehow escaped his clutches and fled to the hills to hide until he had left. From a distance, they could see the Wolf discussing something with Pedro, who seemed visibly upset. Then he shoved a fat wad of notes into Pedro’s greedy hands and left.
The pigs were feeling down in the dumps but far from defeated. They rested awhile, then went once more to the market for building materials. At the market, they met the Sarpanch and told him about the exchange of money. “Oh, we know about that. Foolish Pedro will sell his ancestors for a song. He only lives to drink these days. The BMW will be the one rolling in wealth, you just see.” he said, when they had finished.
“But we must do something about it. We cannot allow this to happen to our village. We must kill the Big Mad Wolf!” cried the four little piglets.
They made a plan. Soon the pigs and the villagers were busy at the plot, building a solid concrete house of cement, mortar and bricks. Pedro, in a frenzy of fury, hurled abuses at the men but he was no match for them. He ran in to call the cops but they were at the casino, spending their illegal money at the gambling tables. He called the BMW but the Secretary said he had gone for one of his interminable red ribbon ceremonies. As he ran back to stop the villagers by himself, he tripped, fell into the pig sty and landed in a pile of shit.
In the meantime, the house was ready. The pigs inaugurated it, inviting all the villagers and they had a merry time. When it was night, mother pig kept a huge ‘koso’ of water to boil in the fireplace and they went to sleep.
The BMW, on hearing the news, was furious. He huffed and he puffed his way to the newly constructed house and tried to blow it down. But try as he may, the house, which had been built to last with strong material and stronger intentions, just wouldn’t budge. In desperation, he sought to enter the house through the chimney but, to his bad luck, he fell right into the pot of scalding water and was killed instantly.
The next day, a procession of the BMW’s shrivelled carcass was taken all over the village, dressed in colourful attire, a juicy apple in its mouth. The Sarpanch announced: “Let this be a lesson to all of us – Pedro, greed got you into deep shit. Mother pig, if you had wallowed in the mud, nothing good would have happened. These piglets have proven that where there is concern, courage, unity and a good plan of action, the impossible can be attained.” Throwing the body of the Big Bad Wolf into the River Sal, the villagers returned home to live happily ever after. (1239 words)
FINDING THE DEEPER MEANING OF MARRIAGE.
The idea of being a part of something called the Marriage Encounter Weekend seemed interesting so when I got an invitation for it, I jumped at the opportunity. OF course, convincing my very reluctant husband and freeing my kids from school was another task altogether; but God seemed to be on my side, and I got my family ready for the trip. Eager to get going, we woke up early and tumbled into our van, the boys tired and sleepy, baby cranky, Glenn wary, Kirsten happy to bunk school and myself hopeful. Thus started our journey for the SVD Seminary, nestled in the hills of the sleepy village of Raia.
We arrived as the first session was already underway. A Jesuit priest, Fr.Leslie, was conducting the session along with a team couple from Benaulim, Vicente and Valene. He told us to introduce ourselves to the other four couples and say one good thing that we liked about our spouse. Then he gave us two questions to answer: “Why did I come here this weekend?” and “What do I hope to gain?”
My husband said he had come because I had wanted it and he didn’t want to disappoint me. I said that I had heard about the weekend when my parents used to go for it in Mumbai but never got a chance to do it myself. When Valy and Anna, the organizers, said I could get the kids along, I jumped at the idea.
What did we hope to gain? Well, I said that I hoped to gain insight into the mistakes I could be making in our marriage and to find a way to resolve them. I also hoped that my husband would do the same. Glenn hoped to get a better understanding of me and to build our marriage and family bond.
And so we began the exciting journey into the steps of the Marrriage Encounter weekend. We had to write many love letters, which I thoroughly enjoyed. Glenn warmed up to the talks after the first day and he too enjoyed the letter-writing and dialogues we had in the privacy of the bedroom, with the kids out of our hair for once. We were able to talk freely about our fears, hopes and disappointments in the marriage and to seek and give each other forgiveness. I cried a lot and Glenn tried to understand my fears. It was a momentous turning point for us when I finally felt he understood. I realized that I had been living a married-single lifestyle without even being aware of it and that it was affecting Glenn in a big way.
We decided to make time to dialogue everyday and when asked to write on how we were going to share our couple-love, I wrote “By holding hands and being close together in public, by visiting others as a couple and, by opening the door for Glenn when he comes home tired from work and giving him his cup of tea while he relaxes in bed.” Glenn wrote: “Plan outing at least once a month with wife only, visit the sick and old with wife, and kiss my wife when I get up in the morning.”
As we returned home, Glenn and I were happy to have gone for the weekend, sad to have said farewell to our new friends at the retreat and fearful that the loving atmosphere would vanish once we landed back home.
The next day, we wrote our first love letters at home and discovered it wasn’t difficult at all. I even sent Glenn several love mobile messages through the day and dedicated a song ‘There’ll never be another you’ for us on the radio.
Yes, we are on our way to sharing our feelings, not just with each other, but also with our kids at home. (640 words)
PTL! Thank you Mama Mary!
I celebrated my 41st Bday on 26th with family. Nothing special; just shopping at Panjim. My brand-crazy Kirsten bought an Adidas for the next academic year and I picked up an equally expensive school bag from Poshak for Nathan. Glenn had taken the smallies to Campal grounds where they had a blast on the slides. The kids voted for Pizza at Domino’s, Porvorim as their dinner, which I regretted agreeing to. Was ripped of Rs. 600/- for two measly pizzas. The crust was great but I could have made a better filling, I do declare! Well, no more ‘branded’ dinners for me ever and that’s a vow, not an empty promise.
The ‘pig’ incident with Carmona, Churchill and Raheja tickled me no end so I wrote a story which I will post here as Herald refuses these kind of ‘poking fun at pols’ articles nowadays. ENJOY! Hope you all liked the previous play I posted; that too was a Herald ‘reject’. Herald resurrected one article I had sent to Goa’s Heartbeat three months back; gave it a makeover and so I was pleasantly surprised. Ana says its my bday gift. Yeah, Well? So this month has been a good one with five articles printed so far.
Hols are coming to an end and I am the same size, weight and off chocs and sweets but I can’t seem to give up my coffee binges. God Help!
This Sun., I become a godmother for the third time: Baby Rosemary is in Australia so Maria has made her friend Reshma as my proxy and her hubby Victor to substitute for Glenn.
Chalo then. Do keep reading and post some feedback please to glenn@microngold.com
From the heart,
Auriel.
THE FOUR LITTLE PIGS
(adapted from that popular tale of triumph of good over evil)
Once upon a time in the sleepy old village of Carmona, there lived four little pigs. They were the protégées of a massive mother sow who was respected for her pedigree and yearly donations of piglets to the villagers.
One day, when the four piglets went for their regular morning stroll around the village, they noticed that the vacant plot next door, belonging to Pedro Camille, was filled with rubble. “What’s happening here?” exclaimed the eldest piglet. “Looks as if the owners were digging for gold but have found rubbish.” “Rubbish, my foot.” countered the youngest piglet. “This is land-filling going on, if I’m not mistaken. Let’s go tell Mummy.”
The four piglets ran back to the mother sow and told her what they had seen. Listening patiently, the sow nodded her head once or twice, then bored, she gave out a loud yawn and went back to sleep in the pool of mud. The four piglets were perplexed. “Why is Mummy not bothered about this?” they wondered.
Just then, the Sarpanch of the village came down the lane. He was going for a morning walk. The piglets stopped him and narrated what they had seen. “Oink! Oink! I know! I know!” said Panch de Carmona. “Pedro told me he was developing his plot. So what’s the problem?”
“But ‘Punch’ uncle, we saw a big sign there that read ‘Ra Hijda builders’. It was a strange name for a Goan so we got worried.”
“What! The rascal! He very clearly told me that he was employing a local builder and the flats would be sold to our people. I must look into this matter immediately.” squealed an obviously agitated Panch. He marched off to have a word with Pedro.
The piglets returned back to the sty. Their mother was still lolling in the mud. “Mummy, the sarpanch says that there seems to be something wrong going on in Pedro Camille’s plot. We fear that things may go wrong here as well. Let’s build our own home and be safe.” So the mother sow stood up, shook the mud off her body and waddled off to the market with the four piglets. There, they bought straw to build a house. They started building their house as soon as they reached Pedro Camille’s plot. The house ready, the family of five settled down for a cosy siesta.
Soon their calm afternoon was rudely disturbed by a loud yell outside the door. “Oh, Du-khors, come out of your house. I am hungry for ‘Du-Du’.” The mother sow peeped out and saw a Big Mad Wolf, standing on the doorstep, huffing and puffing like a steam engine about to begin its marathon run. “Children, we must flee at once. The BMW has come to eat us up.” Exiting from the backdoor, the four piglets ran with their mother into the neighbouring plot.
The BMW huffed and puffed vigorously and blew the house down. As the straw flew into the air, he let out a huge guffaw and sang in a baritone voice, “The answer, my friends, is blowing in the wind, the answer…..” The four piglets were incensed at this arrogant attitude, but being small and helpless, they knew they were no match for the BMW.
“Let’s rebuild the house. This time we’ll make it stronger so that the Wolf won’t be able to tear it down so easily.” said Mother pig. So once again the five squealers went to the market where they purchased logs to make a cabin. Upon returning back to Pedro’s plot, they saw that the panch members had gathered the villagers there and they were shouting slogans. Some villagers came forward to help the pigs build their house, saying: “Even the pigs of our village need a home to live in. We won’t allow Pedro to sell his place to a Hijda.”
And so once more, a sturdy house built of logs was erected for the pigs and all was well for a while.
Then a terrible storm rose up from the South. The pigs heard a loud ‘honk’ of the BMW coming down the lane. “Who has dared to build a house in my territory?” thundered the furious hillbilly. “I will transfer him to Pernem!”
The piglets shivered with fright but the mother pig was brave. She told them to hide under the bed. The BMW huffed and he puffed and the cabin came down. “Ha, Ha! Now I will finish you pigs. All you know to do is squeal when you are caught.”
The pigs somehow escaped his clutches and fled to the hills to hide until he had left. From a distance, they could see the Wolf discussing something with Pedro, who seemed visibly upset. Then he shoved a fat wad of notes into Pedro’s greedy hands and left.
The pigs were feeling down in the dumps but far from defeated. They rested awhile, then went once more to the market for building materials. At the market, they met the Sarpanch and told him about the exchange of money. “Oh, we know about that. Foolish Pedro will sell his ancestors for a song. He only lives to drink these days. The BMW will be the one rolling in wealth, you just see.” he said, when they had finished.
“But we must do something about it. We cannot allow this to happen to our village. We must kill the Big Mad Wolf!” cried the four little piglets.
They made a plan. Soon the pigs and the villagers were busy at the plot, building a solid concrete house of cement, mortar and bricks. Pedro, in a frenzy of fury, hurled abuses at the men but he was no match for them. He ran in to call the cops but they were at the casino, spending their illegal money at the gambling tables. He called the BMW but the Secretary said he had gone for one of his interminable red ribbon ceremonies. As he ran back to stop the villagers by himself, he tripped, fell into the pig sty and landed in a pile of shit.
In the meantime, the house was ready. The pigs inaugurated it, inviting all the villagers and they had a merry time. When it was night, mother pig kept a huge ‘koso’ of water to boil in the fireplace and they went to sleep.
The BMW, on hearing the news, was furious. He huffed and he puffed his way to the newly constructed house and tried to blow it down. But try as he may, the house, which had been built to last with strong material and stronger intentions, just wouldn’t budge. In desperation, he sought to enter the house through the chimney but, to his bad luck, he fell right into the pot of scalding water and was killed instantly.
The next day, a procession of the BMW’s shrivelled carcass was taken all over the village, dressed in colourful attire, a juicy apple in its mouth. The Sarpanch announced: “Let this be a lesson to all of us – Pedro, greed got you into deep shit. Mother pig, if you had wallowed in the mud, nothing good would have happened. These piglets have proven that where there is concern, courage, unity and a good plan of action, the impossible can be attained.” Throwing the body of the Big Bad Wolf into the River Sal, the villagers returned home to live happily ever after. (1239 words)
FINDING THE DEEPER MEANING OF MARRIAGE.
The idea of being a part of something called the Marriage Encounter Weekend seemed interesting so when I got an invitation for it, I jumped at the opportunity. OF course, convincing my very reluctant husband and freeing my kids from school was another task altogether; but God seemed to be on my side, and I got my family ready for the trip. Eager to get going, we woke up early and tumbled into our van, the boys tired and sleepy, baby cranky, Glenn wary, Kirsten happy to bunk school and myself hopeful. Thus started our journey for the SVD Seminary, nestled in the hills of the sleepy village of Raia.
We arrived as the first session was already underway. A Jesuit priest, Fr.Leslie, was conducting the session along with a team couple from Benaulim, Vicente and Valene. He told us to introduce ourselves to the other four couples and say one good thing that we liked about our spouse. Then he gave us two questions to answer: “Why did I come here this weekend?” and “What do I hope to gain?”
My husband said he had come because I had wanted it and he didn’t want to disappoint me. I said that I had heard about the weekend when my parents used to go for it in Mumbai but never got a chance to do it myself. When Valy and Anna, the organizers, said I could get the kids along, I jumped at the idea.
What did we hope to gain? Well, I said that I hoped to gain insight into the mistakes I could be making in our marriage and to find a way to resolve them. I also hoped that my husband would do the same. Glenn hoped to get a better understanding of me and to build our marriage and family bond.
And so we began the exciting journey into the steps of the Marrriage Encounter weekend. We had to write many love letters, which I thoroughly enjoyed. Glenn warmed up to the talks after the first day and he too enjoyed the letter-writing and dialogues we had in the privacy of the bedroom, with the kids out of our hair for once. We were able to talk freely about our fears, hopes and disappointments in the marriage and to seek and give each other forgiveness. I cried a lot and Glenn tried to understand my fears. It was a momentous turning point for us when I finally felt he understood. I realized that I had been living a married-single lifestyle without even being aware of it and that it was affecting Glenn in a big way.
We decided to make time to dialogue everyday and when asked to write on how we were going to share our couple-love, I wrote “By holding hands and being close together in public, by visiting others as a couple and, by opening the door for Glenn when he comes home tired from work and giving him his cup of tea while he relaxes in bed.” Glenn wrote: “Plan outing at least once a month with wife only, visit the sick and old with wife, and kiss my wife when I get up in the morning.”
As we returned home, Glenn and I were happy to have gone for the weekend, sad to have said farewell to our new friends at the retreat and fearful that the loving atmosphere would vanish once we landed back home.
The next day, we wrote our first love letters at home and discovered it wasn’t difficult at all. I even sent Glenn several love mobile messages through the day and dedicated a song ‘There’ll never be another you’ for us on the radio.
Yes, we are on our way to sharing our feelings, not just with each other, but also with our kids at home. (640 words)
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