Khyati often complains that I and my wife argue a lot, often on silly issues.
She gets particularly peeved when we quarrel in the car. ``It gets very boring,’’ she says.
After one such prolonged squabble with my wife recently, I told Khyati that I wish that she and her husband don’t bicker.
``I will get myself a better husband,’’ was her prompt reply.
My wife, of course, nodded in complete agreement.
Sunday, April 11, 2010
Sunday, February 21, 2010
Hello Boys, February 21, 2010
Khyati is over 8 now.
She has a set of ``best girlfriends for life’’ who call on my cell phone to speak to her. They chat with me when I pick her at school or other occasions such as birthday parties.
Khyati in turn talks to their parents. I guess all of this is also to impress the importance they attach to each other and their circle of girlfriends.
Some of her friends sometimes complain to me about a teacher and also ask whether Khyati talks about them as much as they talk about her at home. ``All the time,’’ I tell them, which is the absolute truth.
Khyati is, however, a bully when it comes to boys younger then her and constantly spars with boys her age (mostly classmates), which often extends to physical fights that can get ugly and bruising and sometimes requires the intervention of adults.
The story is a little different with older boys. In the recent past I have had to strike conversations with some, particularly requested by Khyati.
One is a Class 8 football ``star,’’ the local Ronaldo whom the whole school apparently cheered during a high voltage inter-school competition in which he scored two goals; another was the leading protagonist at the school play, who I have now noticed usually has a set of ``older girls’’ hanging around him and giggling all the time at his jokes.
Both are tall, fit and handsome young boys.
Of course, Khyati is too young for them to notice or acknowledge and this is how I come into the picture.
As per the instructions, I have to walk up to the stars, say hello to them, ``shake hands’’ and then point at her and introduce, ``this is my daughter.’’
The boys are polite and good naturedly nod at her, even as she smiles back ``star struck.’’ She then runs to her friends to tell them that the famous ``Mr Hooks’’ said hello to her.
Till date, I have said hello to four ``stars.’’
To the football ``star’’ I said that I read about him in the school magazine and wanted to congratulate him for his feats. To ``Mr Hooks’’ I said that I watched his act in which he was fabulous.
I am now prepared to speak to many more ``stars'' that I am sure I will have to.
She has a set of ``best girlfriends for life’’ who call on my cell phone to speak to her. They chat with me when I pick her at school or other occasions such as birthday parties.
Khyati in turn talks to their parents. I guess all of this is also to impress the importance they attach to each other and their circle of girlfriends.
Some of her friends sometimes complain to me about a teacher and also ask whether Khyati talks about them as much as they talk about her at home. ``All the time,’’ I tell them, which is the absolute truth.
Khyati is, however, a bully when it comes to boys younger then her and constantly spars with boys her age (mostly classmates), which often extends to physical fights that can get ugly and bruising and sometimes requires the intervention of adults.
The story is a little different with older boys. In the recent past I have had to strike conversations with some, particularly requested by Khyati.
One is a Class 8 football ``star,’’ the local Ronaldo whom the whole school apparently cheered during a high voltage inter-school competition in which he scored two goals; another was the leading protagonist at the school play, who I have now noticed usually has a set of ``older girls’’ hanging around him and giggling all the time at his jokes.
Both are tall, fit and handsome young boys.
Of course, Khyati is too young for them to notice or acknowledge and this is how I come into the picture.
As per the instructions, I have to walk up to the stars, say hello to them, ``shake hands’’ and then point at her and introduce, ``this is my daughter.’’
The boys are polite and good naturedly nod at her, even as she smiles back ``star struck.’’ She then runs to her friends to tell them that the famous ``Mr Hooks’’ said hello to her.
Till date, I have said hello to four ``stars.’’
To the football ``star’’ I said that I read about him in the school magazine and wanted to congratulate him for his feats. To ``Mr Hooks’’ I said that I watched his act in which he was fabulous.
I am now prepared to speak to many more ``stars'' that I am sure I will have to.
Wednesday, February 10, 2010
Handling Candy (February 10, 2010)
Girls like dolls, just as boys love cricket bats.
Khyati has many dolls. Candy is one favorite. I am supposed to be Candy’s father as she is Khyati’s sister. So, if I push Candy away Khyati reminds me, ``you are her father, she is your daughter.’’
Khyati loves to skate. We have found a stretch of road in Gurgaon that is smooth and isolated, where I take her sometimes. I watch and walk while Khyati skates. I also have to hold Candy as Khyati wants her to be part of the fun.
As instructed, I have to hold Candy with her face against my chest and other arm around her back so that people are not able to make out that she is a doll. Somehow, Khyati does not want people to know about the real Candy. It probably embarrasses her.
Khyati keeps an eye from a distance, sometimes looking back while skating and waves to me in case I am not holding Candy the way she wants me to.
Candy is about three feet tall, head to toe, a bit big for a doll. She wears Khyati’s old shoes that dangle and beat against my body when I carry her. Khyati also dresses Candy with clothes that don’t fit her any more.
All of this is very well, except that on-road Candy draws many stares from people and passersby who wonder why I am clutching the doll the way I do.
An elderly gentleman stopped by and said that when he saw me from a distance, he was worried that I was not holding the ``baby’’ right. Later, he realized it was a doll.
I have told Khyati several times that we should leave Candy in the car.
She says that is impossible as Candy would cry all alone scared. I have told her that we could leave her sitting on the car dicky, watching her skate. She has a point that would be too dangerous and someone (other kids) might steal Candy.
Last week, I finally found a way out of my uncomfortable public situation.
I told Khyati that Candy has gone off to sleep in my lap so we should make her lie down on the back seat of the car so that she is comfortable. I lock the car so nobody can take her away.
This has worked.
I don’t have to carry Candy around, though Khyati intermittently checks to she whether her ``sister’’ has woken up. I say that she is fast asleep and we should not disturb her.
Khyati has many dolls. Candy is one favorite. I am supposed to be Candy’s father as she is Khyati’s sister. So, if I push Candy away Khyati reminds me, ``you are her father, she is your daughter.’’
Khyati loves to skate. We have found a stretch of road in Gurgaon that is smooth and isolated, where I take her sometimes. I watch and walk while Khyati skates. I also have to hold Candy as Khyati wants her to be part of the fun.
As instructed, I have to hold Candy with her face against my chest and other arm around her back so that people are not able to make out that she is a doll. Somehow, Khyati does not want people to know about the real Candy. It probably embarrasses her.
Khyati keeps an eye from a distance, sometimes looking back while skating and waves to me in case I am not holding Candy the way she wants me to.
Candy is about three feet tall, head to toe, a bit big for a doll. She wears Khyati’s old shoes that dangle and beat against my body when I carry her. Khyati also dresses Candy with clothes that don’t fit her any more.
All of this is very well, except that on-road Candy draws many stares from people and passersby who wonder why I am clutching the doll the way I do.
An elderly gentleman stopped by and said that when he saw me from a distance, he was worried that I was not holding the ``baby’’ right. Later, he realized it was a doll.
I have told Khyati several times that we should leave Candy in the car.
She says that is impossible as Candy would cry all alone scared. I have told her that we could leave her sitting on the car dicky, watching her skate. She has a point that would be too dangerous and someone (other kids) might steal Candy.
Last week, I finally found a way out of my uncomfortable public situation.
I told Khyati that Candy has gone off to sleep in my lap so we should make her lie down on the back seat of the car so that she is comfortable. I lock the car so nobody can take her away.
This has worked.
I don’t have to carry Candy around, though Khyati intermittently checks to she whether her ``sister’’ has woken up. I say that she is fast asleep and we should not disturb her.
Sunday, January 31, 2010
Potty and Junk Food (January 31, 2010)
This sequence goes something like this.
Once, sometimes twice a week, from school I allow Khyati to binge a bit on junk food at a local super mart --- it is usually a cola or a packet of chips.
Off late, I have been running into a bit of an issue here.
Her argument is that I let her binge more on the condition that next week she would forego the high calorie, low nutrition intake, which I know will never happen.
The next week would never come and be turned into a supposed sacrifice for the following week.
So, it has not been the best of times traveling back from school arguing about eating out. Of course, when I don’t give in she snaps: ``I will never talk to you again.’’ ``I will never give you a kiss again.’’ ``I will never share chips with you again; not even a single piece.’’ She knows that I have a weakness for any food.
Anyway, I have finally managed to come up with an explanation, though it does not sound very appetizing. I told her that eating junk food is like going for potty --- one can’t do lots of it one day and not do it again for the next few days.
Similarly, one cannot eat lots of junk food in one go and then forgo it for many days. It is better to eat in bits over time as the urge to taste junk food will re-surface after a gap, just as potty does.
For now, the explanation has worked…our junk food arguments are over, though I have a feeling she may now say that ``since potty is everyday, why not junk food.’’
She has not, until now.
Sunday, November 15, 2009
Car Phone November 15, 2009
It has been a while since I wrote this blog...Khyati has of course grown a bit...one change is in the car after I pick her up from school...she grabs the cellphone to speak to many friends similarly placed...Heading back home in their mode of transport, school bus or personal cars...Sometimes she speaks softly and I hear her say: ``I dont want my father to hear this....''
Friday, March 13, 2009
Phone Calling, March 13, 2009
Mother, girlfriends, wife and now daughter...
In hindsight, it was the easiest to handle calls from my mom as she simply believed all I said (or so I used to think) and never asked too many questions.
This made it difficult to lie though I often did.
After all, how could I tell her that I was too drunk to come home and had to spend the night at a friend’s.
A better way to escape the situation was to speak about joint night study.
Girlfriends, of course, one had to lie, especially when routines involving other girlfriends were concerned.
Over time, one has to handle the situation with the wife as well. For example a visit to the pub could be a client meeting or extra time at golf business development.
However, with Khyati things can be very tricky. What I do today will definitely be an example followed and practiced by her when she grows up.
For example, I have a problem about sticking to time…I lose track of it, especially when fun and frolic is involved.
Off late, Khyati calls to find out what time I am going to be home as there are some general knowledge games she has learnt that requires a quorum of people over the dining table.
``Sid,’’ she says over the phone, sounding sometimes like my wife. ``Just be home for dinner today, okay.’’
Thoughts cross my mind that a few years from now it is definitely going to be me who will be calling her to find out what time she is going to be back, given hectic social routines of teenagers.
There is immense pressure on me now to do as I say. Parenting is a tough job. It teaches you to stick to time, for one.
The other day I told her while driving that I was going for a movie for grown ups with some colleagues.
``Stop the car, turn it around and come home right now as I want you to be home for dinner,’’ she said.
I m struggling.
In hindsight, it was the easiest to handle calls from my mom as she simply believed all I said (or so I used to think) and never asked too many questions.
This made it difficult to lie though I often did.
After all, how could I tell her that I was too drunk to come home and had to spend the night at a friend’s.
A better way to escape the situation was to speak about joint night study.
Girlfriends, of course, one had to lie, especially when routines involving other girlfriends were concerned.
Over time, one has to handle the situation with the wife as well. For example a visit to the pub could be a client meeting or extra time at golf business development.
However, with Khyati things can be very tricky. What I do today will definitely be an example followed and practiced by her when she grows up.
For example, I have a problem about sticking to time…I lose track of it, especially when fun and frolic is involved.
Off late, Khyati calls to find out what time I am going to be home as there are some general knowledge games she has learnt that requires a quorum of people over the dining table.
``Sid,’’ she says over the phone, sounding sometimes like my wife. ``Just be home for dinner today, okay.’’
Thoughts cross my mind that a few years from now it is definitely going to be me who will be calling her to find out what time she is going to be back, given hectic social routines of teenagers.
There is immense pressure on me now to do as I say. Parenting is a tough job. It teaches you to stick to time, for one.
The other day I told her while driving that I was going for a movie for grown ups with some colleagues.
``Stop the car, turn it around and come home right now as I want you to be home for dinner,’’ she said.
I m struggling.
Thursday, March 5, 2009
Technology and Kids, March 5, 2009
Kids growing up today are exposed to gadgets that did not exist during my time.
At seven Khyati is comfortable in handling the cell phone, dialing, taking a call, reading missed and received calls. She has a thing for cellular multi-media games nowadays.
She has learnt computer commands, including keying in passwords and can operate the paint brush which I cannot.
She logs onto Google on her own, downloads and plays Barbie and Power Angel games online during holidays, mute the sound when her time is over and has begun to use search words to read material.
What is a bit of concern for me, however, is the smut that is so easily accessible on the Internet. The transition from hearing about the word ``sex’’ and knowing about it visually is very minimal.
This is when I and my wife continue to stick to the story of fairies delivering Khyati to us.
During my time it was never so easy to access sleaze, available at local video parlors --- one had to be a bit of a grown up (late teens I would say) to walk up to the guy at the counter and wink or point at the smutty stuff and pay for it.
The video cassette (including copies) had to be suitably camouflaged (among books for instance), smuggled into the house and hidden away so that parents, including very snoopy and suspicious mothers did not find them.
Most adult shows were then group events involving several friends in the neighborhood as word usually got round quickly about any household where parents happened to be out for a late night party or work.
Today a kid could easily surf a porn site, just one search word or URL away, within the confines of a muted laptop, even if the household is teeming with people.
This is not a very palatable situation and I cannot think of any preventive solution that can be effective.
Suggestions???
At seven Khyati is comfortable in handling the cell phone, dialing, taking a call, reading missed and received calls. She has a thing for cellular multi-media games nowadays.
She has learnt computer commands, including keying in passwords and can operate the paint brush which I cannot.
She logs onto Google on her own, downloads and plays Barbie and Power Angel games online during holidays, mute the sound when her time is over and has begun to use search words to read material.
What is a bit of concern for me, however, is the smut that is so easily accessible on the Internet. The transition from hearing about the word ``sex’’ and knowing about it visually is very minimal.
This is when I and my wife continue to stick to the story of fairies delivering Khyati to us.
During my time it was never so easy to access sleaze, available at local video parlors --- one had to be a bit of a grown up (late teens I would say) to walk up to the guy at the counter and wink or point at the smutty stuff and pay for it.
The video cassette (including copies) had to be suitably camouflaged (among books for instance), smuggled into the house and hidden away so that parents, including very snoopy and suspicious mothers did not find them.
Most adult shows were then group events involving several friends in the neighborhood as word usually got round quickly about any household where parents happened to be out for a late night party or work.
Today a kid could easily surf a porn site, just one search word or URL away, within the confines of a muted laptop, even if the household is teeming with people.
This is not a very palatable situation and I cannot think of any preventive solution that can be effective.
Suggestions???
Friday, February 27, 2009
Hugs and Kisses, February 27, 2009
For a young guy a kiss can mean a lot.
There was a time when I traveled quite some distance to meet a girlfriend. As my parents were against bikes and cars too expensive, I changed three buses, walked a bit in the heat to arrive at the residence of the pretty girl in question.
Then I took her out to the local market (no malls at that time) for chaat, walked her at her local park, praised her, her family and her dog expecting the big prize, the kiss in some corner for the efforts --- the girl of course thought she was doing a big favor still and sometimes refused, saying she was not in the mood.
So, one walked back, disheartened, hoping for another day and time.
Now of course I hanker for a kiss from Khyati (a different heart soothing feeling), who has been quick to turn it to her advantage --- perhaps due to some female genetic intelligence flowing down.
So, it is no longer easy to get a kiss from her, unless she wants to.
The other day she wanted me to wait another hour at a birthday party and promptly planted a kiss on the cheek. I complied.
Off late, at the park, she kisses from a distance to negotiate more time. I have been complying, but feel short changed.
The only time I get many kisses for free is when I drive fast --- she likes it, so do I, but given the current traffic situation, the occasion is not often, even if I take some risk.
There was a time when I traveled quite some distance to meet a girlfriend. As my parents were against bikes and cars too expensive, I changed three buses, walked a bit in the heat to arrive at the residence of the pretty girl in question.
Then I took her out to the local market (no malls at that time) for chaat, walked her at her local park, praised her, her family and her dog expecting the big prize, the kiss in some corner for the efforts --- the girl of course thought she was doing a big favor still and sometimes refused, saying she was not in the mood.
So, one walked back, disheartened, hoping for another day and time.
Now of course I hanker for a kiss from Khyati (a different heart soothing feeling), who has been quick to turn it to her advantage --- perhaps due to some female genetic intelligence flowing down.
So, it is no longer easy to get a kiss from her, unless she wants to.
The other day she wanted me to wait another hour at a birthday party and promptly planted a kiss on the cheek. I complied.
Off late, at the park, she kisses from a distance to negotiate more time. I have been complying, but feel short changed.
The only time I get many kisses for free is when I drive fast --- she likes it, so do I, but given the current traffic situation, the occasion is not often, even if I take some risk.
Monday, February 9, 2009
Me and Maids, February 10, 2009
Don’t read me wrong, but for as long as my memory goes maids have been a subject of hot discussion of my grandmother, mother and now my wife and her mother.
``She takes leave too often, steals, drinks milk from the fridge, dirty, ill-behaved…,’’ have been the common complaints.
Maids have been spoken about by women of my household with the same passion as I may talk about cricket, golf or shares.
Frankly, I have considered them a nuisance and maid issues very silly woman talk, until I have had to take part-responsibility of baby sitting Khyati.
These girls know that they have you by the b…ls (pardon the language) when it comes to the kid.
A couple of bad experiences I can recall are when I had to multi-task between Khyati and a stiff deadline, which I thought I could manage with the maid.
I made the mistake of snapping at her on some issue I don’t remember.
She promptly told me ``saab, chakkar aa raha hai (sir, I have a headache).’’ When a young girl speaks about such a problem, it only means one thing and one has to let her go to her room and rest.
During my early days of handling Khyati with a maid, I lost my temper at one and she promptly packed her belongings and left.
Then began a mad scramble for a new maid and soon I realized that getting one is an organized racket involving agencies that charge a hefty service amount without any guarantees.
The agencies as a matter of fact encourage maids to leave employers so that they make more money by re-cycling them elsewhere.
Further, given the pace at which the Indian population is pro-creating, the maid sector is a monopoly.
Now I look at handling maids as a very serious matter and have had discussions with my mother on the issues involved. ``Be gentle and diplomatic,’’ is her advise.
Our current maid has negotiated TV time for her favorite soap operas and spends quite a bit of her day talking on the cell phone (call this emancipation due to technology and cheap call rates) to sundry drivers and gardeners, spread all over the country.
I good naturedly pretend that all of this is very funny.
``She takes leave too often, steals, drinks milk from the fridge, dirty, ill-behaved…,’’ have been the common complaints.
Maids have been spoken about by women of my household with the same passion as I may talk about cricket, golf or shares.
Frankly, I have considered them a nuisance and maid issues very silly woman talk, until I have had to take part-responsibility of baby sitting Khyati.
These girls know that they have you by the b…ls (pardon the language) when it comes to the kid.
A couple of bad experiences I can recall are when I had to multi-task between Khyati and a stiff deadline, which I thought I could manage with the maid.
I made the mistake of snapping at her on some issue I don’t remember.
She promptly told me ``saab, chakkar aa raha hai (sir, I have a headache).’’ When a young girl speaks about such a problem, it only means one thing and one has to let her go to her room and rest.
During my early days of handling Khyati with a maid, I lost my temper at one and she promptly packed her belongings and left.
Then began a mad scramble for a new maid and soon I realized that getting one is an organized racket involving agencies that charge a hefty service amount without any guarantees.
The agencies as a matter of fact encourage maids to leave employers so that they make more money by re-cycling them elsewhere.
Further, given the pace at which the Indian population is pro-creating, the maid sector is a monopoly.
Now I look at handling maids as a very serious matter and have had discussions with my mother on the issues involved. ``Be gentle and diplomatic,’’ is her advise.
Our current maid has negotiated TV time for her favorite soap operas and spends quite a bit of her day talking on the cell phone (call this emancipation due to technology and cheap call rates) to sundry drivers and gardeners, spread all over the country.
I good naturedly pretend that all of this is very funny.
Tuesday, February 3, 2009
Perks of the Job, February 4, 2009
There are some inherent advantages in having a kid tag alongside, one being attention of comely women.
For example, at my local gym where most of the bombshells who quickly slot you as the one who stares (at the mirror in front) while they jog on the treadmill, which I guess is a self-preservation drill given the generally sex obsessed and starved population in India.
The ice was, however, broken following a couple of visits by Khyati, who sat in the lounge area and read a book while I exercised.
The smiles and attention have not ceased. ``What a cute child, your child, I did not know you had a child,’’ one bombshell volunteered a conversation.
I guess the fatherly image triggers a concomitant safe to talk to message to most of the opposite sex.
Another pretty girl even asked me out for coffee at Café Day as she wanted to discuss the dynamics of setting up a business. This has never happened to me before. More are now my friends.
So I asked a long standing friend the depth of such attention.
``It’s simple,’’ she said. ``You are like a lake and these women like little pebbles. They know that their entry into your life will only cause little waves, unlike a young bachelor who may turn obsessive, possessive, romantic and in love. So, they feel it is okay, they don’t need to think too much while interacting with you.’’
For curiosity sake (???), I further asked whether such comfort levels can also result in more (you know what I mean).
``It can if the woman is not committed,’’ my friend said. ``She knows exit is easy, so why not try out something different, while the option is there, but I would strongly advise against such adventures as they can turn dangerous (she meant emotional).’’
Well well, I am listening…
For example, at my local gym where most of the bombshells who quickly slot you as the one who stares (at the mirror in front) while they jog on the treadmill, which I guess is a self-preservation drill given the generally sex obsessed and starved population in India.
The ice was, however, broken following a couple of visits by Khyati, who sat in the lounge area and read a book while I exercised.
The smiles and attention have not ceased. ``What a cute child, your child, I did not know you had a child,’’ one bombshell volunteered a conversation.
I guess the fatherly image triggers a concomitant safe to talk to message to most of the opposite sex.
Another pretty girl even asked me out for coffee at Café Day as she wanted to discuss the dynamics of setting up a business. This has never happened to me before. More are now my friends.
So I asked a long standing friend the depth of such attention.
``It’s simple,’’ she said. ``You are like a lake and these women like little pebbles. They know that their entry into your life will only cause little waves, unlike a young bachelor who may turn obsessive, possessive, romantic and in love. So, they feel it is okay, they don’t need to think too much while interacting with you.’’
For curiosity sake (???), I further asked whether such comfort levels can also result in more (you know what I mean).
``It can if the woman is not committed,’’ my friend said. ``She knows exit is easy, so why not try out something different, while the option is there, but I would strongly advise against such adventures as they can turn dangerous (she meant emotional).’’
Well well, I am listening…
Monday, February 2, 2009
Time Management, February 2, 2009
Handling a kid with work requires some tough decisions.
For example, if it is pick up/drop time and an important client mail needs attention or deadline looms, it is never very easy.
On the one end could be a cranky or dissatisfied client and at the other the kid with near tears and worry in her eyes as she keenly awaits your arrival.
Technology, including GPRS mailing, helps a bit with cell phones allowing one to parry a client situation for sometime.
But, matters do need to be managed by the minute.
Keeping track of time becomes important in the midst of bunched up deadlines and kid schedules.
For example, I do not like to send an important document close to kid pick up time as it can get nervy.
Further, it is important to keep several time sources handy, without relying on any one: laptop, cell phone, table watches, car clock, at least one watch in the bath room, dressing room and bedroom.
One also has to account for traffic snarls etc.
A couple of years back the battery of my wall clock sank and it is not the best sight to see your kid waiting eagerly for you.
But, things do get better as kids begin to borrow their teacher’s/friends mother’s/coach cell phone to make calls and find out.
``Sid, where are you,’’ Khyati called the other day. ``The party is over, please come and pick me up right now.’’
For example, if it is pick up/drop time and an important client mail needs attention or deadline looms, it is never very easy.
On the one end could be a cranky or dissatisfied client and at the other the kid with near tears and worry in her eyes as she keenly awaits your arrival.
Technology, including GPRS mailing, helps a bit with cell phones allowing one to parry a client situation for sometime.
But, matters do need to be managed by the minute.
Keeping track of time becomes important in the midst of bunched up deadlines and kid schedules.
For example, I do not like to send an important document close to kid pick up time as it can get nervy.
Further, it is important to keep several time sources handy, without relying on any one: laptop, cell phone, table watches, car clock, at least one watch in the bath room, dressing room and bedroom.
One also has to account for traffic snarls etc.
A couple of years back the battery of my wall clock sank and it is not the best sight to see your kid waiting eagerly for you.
But, things do get better as kids begin to borrow their teacher’s/friends mother’s/coach cell phone to make calls and find out.
``Sid, where are you,’’ Khyati called the other day. ``The party is over, please come and pick me up right now.’’
Sunday, February 1, 2009
Playing Politics, February 1, 2009
7 year olds can be pretty smart about finding their way through the maze of parental and family roadblocks and permissions to issues that may be important to them.
So is the case with Khyati, who considers her mother (sometimes grandparents) to be the more formidable person to reason with, than me. So, her strategy at times is to extract a yes from me before moving onto a public debate.
She knows that parents are consistent people and when I say yes to her privately, I will have to defend her position in front of others as well.
One latest instance concerns an overnight school trip that me and my wife are not in favor of, as we feel that she needs to grow up a bit before such excursions.
Khyati, of course wants to go.
In the car (after school), where most of our one-to-one conversations happen, she told me that she wants to go for the trip and that I should say yes.
My antennas were instantly up as I knew that this was building up for stage-2 with her mother: ``Papa has said it is okay to go, ’’ she would begin.
So I replied: ``we go for so many trips together, so we can go for another one and have some fun.’’
``I have fun with you and mama,’’ she reasoned, ``but with friends it is different.’’
``How?’’
``Well, me and my friends, we can get up at night, switch on the lights of the room when the teacher is asleep and play games --- also eat chips,’’ she explained.
``Ok,’’ I said.
``So, is it a yes then,’’ she asked very innocently.
This was the crunch question, so I had to tread very carefully.
``I am not saying yes or no,’’ I said, ``Let us debate the issue with everybody and then decide.’’
``You mean you are saying yes, but others have to also say yes,’’ she asked.
``No,’’ I said, ``I am undecided and want to hear what others have to say.’’
``So, you are not saying yes or no,’’ she said.
``True,’’
She knew I had guessed her game and would not give in.
But, it was well tried, Khyati.
So is the case with Khyati, who considers her mother (sometimes grandparents) to be the more formidable person to reason with, than me. So, her strategy at times is to extract a yes from me before moving onto a public debate.
She knows that parents are consistent people and when I say yes to her privately, I will have to defend her position in front of others as well.
One latest instance concerns an overnight school trip that me and my wife are not in favor of, as we feel that she needs to grow up a bit before such excursions.
Khyati, of course wants to go.
In the car (after school), where most of our one-to-one conversations happen, she told me that she wants to go for the trip and that I should say yes.
My antennas were instantly up as I knew that this was building up for stage-2 with her mother: ``Papa has said it is okay to go, ’’ she would begin.
So I replied: ``we go for so many trips together, so we can go for another one and have some fun.’’
``I have fun with you and mama,’’ she reasoned, ``but with friends it is different.’’
``How?’’
``Well, me and my friends, we can get up at night, switch on the lights of the room when the teacher is asleep and play games --- also eat chips,’’ she explained.
``Ok,’’ I said.
``So, is it a yes then,’’ she asked very innocently.
This was the crunch question, so I had to tread very carefully.
``I am not saying yes or no,’’ I said, ``Let us debate the issue with everybody and then decide.’’
``You mean you are saying yes, but others have to also say yes,’’ she asked.
``No,’’ I said, ``I am undecided and want to hear what others have to say.’’
``So, you are not saying yes or no,’’ she said.
``True,’’
She knew I had guessed her game and would not give in.
But, it was well tried, Khyati.
Thursday, January 29, 2009
Some Secrets, January 30, 2009
Of course there are some secrets that only I and Khyati share, that could anger her mom, grandparents and perhaps a few others. It is some fun though…
** Driving the car at 140 kmph on the Expressway in exchange of claps and kisses (while driving) and hugs later. ``Great driving,'' she usually squeals when I am at top speed.
** Not washing off the potty (her that is, if it happens to arrive) properly before jumping into the swimming pool. I tell her to do the breast stroke initially.
** Junking on a big packet of chips and coca cola, patties and visiting MacDonald’s for French fries – not too often, but once in a while.
** Getting her to taste chicken (I am a non-vegetarian), when the rest of the family, including her mother are hardcore vegetarians, and want Khyati to be the same.
I don’t know whether all of this is for the good or bad. I just don’t think too much about it.
** Driving the car at 140 kmph on the Expressway in exchange of claps and kisses (while driving) and hugs later. ``Great driving,'' she usually squeals when I am at top speed.
** Not washing off the potty (her that is, if it happens to arrive) properly before jumping into the swimming pool. I tell her to do the breast stroke initially.
** Junking on a big packet of chips and coca cola, patties and visiting MacDonald’s for French fries – not too often, but once in a while.
** Getting her to taste chicken (I am a non-vegetarian), when the rest of the family, including her mother are hardcore vegetarians, and want Khyati to be the same.
I don’t know whether all of this is for the good or bad. I just don’t think too much about it.
The Specimen, January 29, 2009
A father involved with the routine of a kid (picking from school, birthday parties, sports etc) in the Indian situation elicits some reactions from people around and becomes a bit of a specimen, if I may use the word.
My impression is that busy fathers are intermittently involved with their kids, but a father (like me, being immodest here) involved almost daily raises some eyebrows among the sprinkling of grand parents and majority mother population involved in the hustle of kid routines.
As I work on my own and deal mostly with foreign clients I am able to revolve my routine amidst stiff deadlines.
People who know me as somebody who manages work and kid compare. Some observations that I don't mind:
** You are so patient. I don’t believe that you are so busy also. My husband would not wait for a minute (this is when Khyati is busy at the school swings or an unending birthday party and I wait).
** You are never late to pick up your daughter. I have been noticing this and find it really admirable.
** You must be managing Khyati’s home work also (which I don’t and cannot as it requires too much concentration and is handled by my wife and Khyati’s grand mom). When I say that I can only take care of the outdoor routine (it is also some time away from the computer screen and straining the eye), I get the feeling that some think I am trying to be modest, few also think that I hide how much work Khyati is putting in (there is this undercurrent of competition always).
My wife is of the opinion that the above credits overrate my actual role as she is also working and involved with Khyati in many more ways (like getting her ready in the morning, breakfast, home work in the evening, bath, dinner and reading to sleep)
There is a flip side though. People (fathers and mothers) who don’t know me think I may have lost my job or I am certainly unemployed to be able to follow Khyati’s routine diligently. If I happen to be unshaven the view is only buttressed.
Many are curious to know more and ask directly about what I do, perhaps unable to fathom the contended look on my face, when I am shaved.
In my opinion my efforts are actually minimal, though important, in the overall scheme of a child’s development, but compared to others, I guess it must be more. At least there is more to show.
I must add, though, handling a kid requires some patience. There is simply no choice.
My impression is that busy fathers are intermittently involved with their kids, but a father (like me, being immodest here) involved almost daily raises some eyebrows among the sprinkling of grand parents and majority mother population involved in the hustle of kid routines.
As I work on my own and deal mostly with foreign clients I am able to revolve my routine amidst stiff deadlines.
People who know me as somebody who manages work and kid compare. Some observations that I don't mind:
** You are so patient. I don’t believe that you are so busy also. My husband would not wait for a minute (this is when Khyati is busy at the school swings or an unending birthday party and I wait).
** You are never late to pick up your daughter. I have been noticing this and find it really admirable.
** You must be managing Khyati’s home work also (which I don’t and cannot as it requires too much concentration and is handled by my wife and Khyati’s grand mom). When I say that I can only take care of the outdoor routine (it is also some time away from the computer screen and straining the eye), I get the feeling that some think I am trying to be modest, few also think that I hide how much work Khyati is putting in (there is this undercurrent of competition always).
My wife is of the opinion that the above credits overrate my actual role as she is also working and involved with Khyati in many more ways (like getting her ready in the morning, breakfast, home work in the evening, bath, dinner and reading to sleep)
There is a flip side though. People (fathers and mothers) who don’t know me think I may have lost my job or I am certainly unemployed to be able to follow Khyati’s routine diligently. If I happen to be unshaven the view is only buttressed.
Many are curious to know more and ask directly about what I do, perhaps unable to fathom the contended look on my face, when I am shaved.
In my opinion my efforts are actually minimal, though important, in the overall scheme of a child’s development, but compared to others, I guess it must be more. At least there is more to show.
I must add, though, handling a kid requires some patience. There is simply no choice.
Tuesday, January 27, 2009
Mom and Pop, January 27, 2009
Mothers are different from fathers. It is apparent at Khyati’s school where the concerns of the mothers vary a bit compared to the fathers.
Mother’s worries: Class teacher is not doing a good job; worksheets are not being sent on time; focus on extra-curricular activities is not there; child has to be taught at home to keep up in class.
Father’s worries: Appreciating rupee is not good for exports; there is corruption in government; the school is making lot of money; Obama may be good or bad; anything can happen in the elections; there is a new insurance product; stocks have fallen; property rates are down.
Mother’s worries: Class teacher is not doing a good job; worksheets are not being sent on time; focus on extra-curricular activities is not there; child has to be taught at home to keep up in class.
Father’s worries: Appreciating rupee is not good for exports; there is corruption in government; the school is making lot of money; Obama may be good or bad; anything can happen in the elections; there is a new insurance product; stocks have fallen; property rates are down.
Sunday, January 25, 2009
Potty Washing, January 25, 2009
For any father handling a kid, potty training is mandatory. So it has been between me and Khyati.
Like terrorists, stock markets, road rage, the potty can strike anytime anywhere ---market, mall, pool, school, stadium, birthday party…So one needs to be prepared about the process and also impress upon the kid that he/she should not hold it too long as it is not good for health.
Khyati, however, is generally a magnanimous kid and has perhaps understood my reluctance, laziness or lack of natural ability to take on most assignments that are handled by her mother or other mothers of her friends in similar circumstances.
So she spares me the changing clothes routine at the swimming pool, eats on her own when we are together and we have long periods of silence in the car or at home when she senses that I am not in the mood to talk (because of work or whatever), which is not the case with her mom or grand mom.
However, in the case of potty she has been pretty steadfast in holding her ground.
She insists that I do the washing, anywhere.
Perhaps it is some kind of control she likes to exercise. In my opinion most women (perhaps even little girls) like to have their way in some matters with the men that matter in their life.
For me, for now, it is potty washing that I have to abide. So, the one question I ask before heading out: ``is potty coming?’’
It comes when it has to...
Like terrorists, stock markets, road rage, the potty can strike anytime anywhere ---market, mall, pool, school, stadium, birthday party…So one needs to be prepared about the process and also impress upon the kid that he/she should not hold it too long as it is not good for health.
Khyati, however, is generally a magnanimous kid and has perhaps understood my reluctance, laziness or lack of natural ability to take on most assignments that are handled by her mother or other mothers of her friends in similar circumstances.
So she spares me the changing clothes routine at the swimming pool, eats on her own when we are together and we have long periods of silence in the car or at home when she senses that I am not in the mood to talk (because of work or whatever), which is not the case with her mom or grand mom.
However, in the case of potty she has been pretty steadfast in holding her ground.
She insists that I do the washing, anywhere.
Perhaps it is some kind of control she likes to exercise. In my opinion most women (perhaps even little girls) like to have their way in some matters with the men that matter in their life.
For me, for now, it is potty washing that I have to abide. So, the one question I ask before heading out: ``is potty coming?’’
It comes when it has to...
Thursday, January 22, 2009
Tennis Match 1, January 23, 2009
Continuing from the earlier blog, Khyati lost her match. She did not stand a chance as she was up against Father Serena Williams.
Khyati’s opponent was a little girl like her, but the Father treated the match as one more step by his ward towards winning a Grand Slam.
He stood by the lines, argued with the referee and showed his disgust on missed points.
There are quite few such dedicated people around, who, for example plan the entry of their kids into IITs and IIMs from class KG.
Khyati’s opponent has been enrolled for personal one to one coaching, undergoes video bio-mechanical training and carries a very fancy racquet. It shows in her game.
After losing Khyati ran towards the corner I was sitting and repeated, ``I lost,’’ almost in tears.
I told her, ``Even Sachin Tendulkar loses matches and gets out on zero.’’
Of course Khyati knows a bit about cricket because of me.
``Don’t worry next time try harder, train harder, there is an improvement from last time when you lost the first match. So be happy,’’ I told her.
Father Serena Williams, of course, was beaming.
Khyati’s opponent was a little girl like her, but the Father treated the match as one more step by his ward towards winning a Grand Slam.
He stood by the lines, argued with the referee and showed his disgust on missed points.
There are quite few such dedicated people around, who, for example plan the entry of their kids into IITs and IIMs from class KG.
Khyati’s opponent has been enrolled for personal one to one coaching, undergoes video bio-mechanical training and carries a very fancy racquet. It shows in her game.
After losing Khyati ran towards the corner I was sitting and repeated, ``I lost,’’ almost in tears.
I told her, ``Even Sachin Tendulkar loses matches and gets out on zero.’’
Of course Khyati knows a bit about cricket because of me.
``Don’t worry next time try harder, train harder, there is an improvement from last time when you lost the first match. So be happy,’’ I told her.
Father Serena Williams, of course, was beaming.
Tuesday, January 20, 2009
Tennis Match, January 20
As I have said earlier Khyati has been playing tennis for a few months now.
Mostly, it is a fun hour for her during which the coach has to repeatedly remind her not to chat with fellow kids. But, she enjoys and is beginning to hit the ball across, so I am happy.
Last month she played in her first intra-club match and lost, which I expected. She was a little disappointed and I told her that there is always the next time when she should try harder. This month, the matches are being played and I took her again.
I expected her to lose, but is seems that she had put a bit of thought into her game. She was placing the ball intelligently and was looking to win the points. The match was getting competitive.
I had taken Aravind Adiga's White Tiger and did not read a page as I cannot recall a more involving tennis match ever.
Let me tell you it is quite a different feeling to watch your kid fight it out in a game. You want her to win, period.
For a minute I understood the predicament of Father Williams when he speaks about all the nervous energy when his kids play.
It is tough. It was like meeting a stiff deadline, perhaps worse. This is not going to be easy. Tomorrow is the second round and she is all keyed up. So am I. Perhaps, more.
Mostly, it is a fun hour for her during which the coach has to repeatedly remind her not to chat with fellow kids. But, she enjoys and is beginning to hit the ball across, so I am happy.
Last month she played in her first intra-club match and lost, which I expected. She was a little disappointed and I told her that there is always the next time when she should try harder. This month, the matches are being played and I took her again.
I expected her to lose, but is seems that she had put a bit of thought into her game. She was placing the ball intelligently and was looking to win the points. The match was getting competitive.
I had taken Aravind Adiga's White Tiger and did not read a page as I cannot recall a more involving tennis match ever.
Let me tell you it is quite a different feeling to watch your kid fight it out in a game. You want her to win, period.
For a minute I understood the predicament of Father Williams when he speaks about all the nervous energy when his kids play.
It is tough. It was like meeting a stiff deadline, perhaps worse. This is not going to be easy. Tomorrow is the second round and she is all keyed up. So am I. Perhaps, more.
Thursday, January 15, 2009
Obama Girls, January 16, 2009
Obama has written a letter to his two daughters that have been made public.
He mentions about the change in his attitude about life from thinking about himself and his ambition to the world of his daughters and the infinite pleasures due to their little achievements.
What he says is true --- for me money, professional highs are important but others involving Khyati take precedence, unlike earlier.
Among the infinite pleasures that I have derived include seeing her joy in managing the slide on her own at the neighborhood park when she was 3 or so, swimming with floats on both her arms, then with one and finally without any and nowadays managing to get the shots right in tennis and even some golf.
I happened to watch the movie One Fine Day recently, in which Michelle Feiffer, as a working mom has to choose between an important client meeting and the football game of her son...she chose the latter.
Between a client mail or call and taking Khyati to her tennis game, I too would choose the latter...thats the way life is I guess...
He mentions about the change in his attitude about life from thinking about himself and his ambition to the world of his daughters and the infinite pleasures due to their little achievements.
What he says is true --- for me money, professional highs are important but others involving Khyati take precedence, unlike earlier.
Among the infinite pleasures that I have derived include seeing her joy in managing the slide on her own at the neighborhood park when she was 3 or so, swimming with floats on both her arms, then with one and finally without any and nowadays managing to get the shots right in tennis and even some golf.
I happened to watch the movie One Fine Day recently, in which Michelle Feiffer, as a working mom has to choose between an important client meeting and the football game of her son...she chose the latter.
Between a client mail or call and taking Khyati to her tennis game, I too would choose the latter...thats the way life is I guess...
Saturday, January 10, 2009
Terror, January 10, 2008
Terror does play on the mind of a seven year old especially after the November 26 Mumbai attacks.
Khyati has been learning about the seven biggest countries in the world, an order that I keep forgeting --- Russia, Canada, China, Brazil, USA, India, Australia --- in some order.
Today morning (most of our close conversations incidentally happen when we are in the car together, commute from school or tennis or other classes) she asked me about the top seven in terms of the number of terrorists --- I named Pakistan, Afhganistan, Iran, Iraq, Saudi Arabia, India, Indonesia.
I realized in a bit that her worry was about Gurgaon, where we live...she asked within India which were the states with maximum terrorists...I named Uttar Pradesh, Bihar and also told her that terrorists are bad creatures who could be anywhere.
Then came the clincher...``Are there any terrorists in Gurgaon.''
I said ``no.''
She asked, ``are ur sure.''
I said, ``yes.''
The last thing I want her little mind to worry about is terrorists...in some way I felt it would be a victory for these criminals if they also managed to scare Khyati, given the innumerable lives and families already destroyed.
Yet, the way militants are striking crowded areas, the packed Gurgaon malls can be a prime target.
I do hope what I told my daughter turns out to be true...
Khyati has been learning about the seven biggest countries in the world, an order that I keep forgeting --- Russia, Canada, China, Brazil, USA, India, Australia --- in some order.
Today morning (most of our close conversations incidentally happen when we are in the car together, commute from school or tennis or other classes) she asked me about the top seven in terms of the number of terrorists --- I named Pakistan, Afhganistan, Iran, Iraq, Saudi Arabia, India, Indonesia.
I realized in a bit that her worry was about Gurgaon, where we live...she asked within India which were the states with maximum terrorists...I named Uttar Pradesh, Bihar and also told her that terrorists are bad creatures who could be anywhere.
Then came the clincher...``Are there any terrorists in Gurgaon.''
I said ``no.''
She asked, ``are ur sure.''
I said, ``yes.''
The last thing I want her little mind to worry about is terrorists...in some way I felt it would be a victory for these criminals if they also managed to scare Khyati, given the innumerable lives and families already destroyed.
Yet, the way militants are striking crowded areas, the packed Gurgaon malls can be a prime target.
I do hope what I told my daughter turns out to be true...
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