Friday, July 8, 2011

Dear Daughter

A breath of fresh air;
So lovely and fair,
Bringing excitement and cheer,
for people near and dear,
Talking to others with care,
Playing games always with dare,
Likes drawing cats and girls,
Jumping in air with swirls,
Helping people in need;
Old people or kid,
Listening to elders and their advice;
Making goodies of their choice,
Giving company to mother - Ah! so divine,
I love you so much - O! daughter of mine.

Monday, May 2, 2011

Artistic Sense and Sensibility



Summer vacations arrive with a bang ! They bring with them - the right to sleep late, to wake up late, to play the whole day, to demand ice cream and cold drinks as if it was every child's right and to always ask one question - "Mom, what should I do now ?" I never had any problems answering this question during the school days for my seven year old daughter is always busy with her routine, but in the vacations, this question foxes me.

My Father in law promptly thought of putting his 'busy' grand daughter in a Drawing Class. My daughter shows keen interest in drawing and coloring and we feel very happy when she gets an award or certificate for her abilities. So grandpa took all the trouble of assembling all her drawings and taking the file to the drawing class teacher; who lives a short distance away. The teacher, Mr Bhaskar Mandolu, was pleased with the drawings and so next day on wards, the class started.

The first day was a formality in checking the usage of pencil and shading with the crayons. The second day progressed to what my daughter likes most - that of putting her world on paper. The world specifically includes all doll like girls, depicting various actions; at times animals or sometimes nature. The third day impressed us all - her teacher had made her do a scenery and taught her how to bring it to life !!

Deeply impressed, I went to bring back my daughter from her drawing class on the fourth day at about 6:15 pm. I found the building and the flat and on entering the house; I was surprised - there was no furniture but only huge painting boards put here and there. The kids were seated on the airy terrace and I saw my daughter immersed in her work. This gave me time to observe the paintings on the wall, on the floor; practically everywhere. I could not make out her teacher but I noticed a young man with jeans and shirt and glasses and long hair. I guess this must be Mr Kate; all artistic people do really make themselves be seen. His wife is a beautiful and pleasing personality; trying to help out with the kids and classes.

Again my attention shifted to the room where I was and I found myself with ample amount of time to study the paintings as a layman. A dark red background with some whites and greys like a Stone Age man painting, a half finished painting with a young maiden turning her head away and exposing her neatly plaited hair; and some such other paintings. Frankly, I understood nothing ! Though one painting caught my eye - it was a grey blue colored one probably depicting a snow mountain range and in the middle as a small man shown as a red dot and two dangling unequal black lines. I focused my attention to this one and my thoughts drifted to the man who is all alone in a hostile cold environment.

But hey ! the legs were moving !!! Surprised, I stared at it again and Oh ! it dawned on me that this was a CLOCK; the legs of the man were the hands of the' clock and the red dot was the center !! I could barely control my laughter and wonder at what high level thinking' i was doing without making use of my common sense.

Thursday, February 24, 2011

I cried just for you, mother !

Watching a new born baby is a real treat for all 8 year olds. My daughter is no exception to this for she can talk to the baby nineteen to the dozen along with cooing and caa-ing showing her antics and gestures; no matter whether the baby understands or not. It was on one such occasion that Manasi; my daughter asked me curiously upon returning home, about how she was as a baby. My one line answers did not seem to satisfy her, so I had to elaborate them and tell her about nature, habits, size, her likes and dislikes, and so many things that only a child will be interested in.

“Who saw me for the first time?” quipped Manasi. “Were you happy upon seeing me” asked Manasi with a mischievous look. “I was rather worried, beta” was my frank answer which took her by surprise and her naughty smile away. “Why?” she asked me inquisitively. “Actually you were not crying. I only heard a sigh from you but no musical cry as I had expected to” I told her recalling my most happy moment of giving birth and at the same time that of apprehension upon sensing something amiss. “The doctor held you by your feet and patted your back, cleaned your mouth and then finally he used some thing to clear your blocked windpipe. And after that you gave me the best music that my parched ears were dying to drink. You cried most beautifully, beta, you were heard all over the room and outside. Even your grand parents and aunt heard you; waiting outside.” I heard myself explaining most joyfully and feeling a tear roll down my cheek recalling my experience and the sigh of relief upon hearing my baby's cry.

Looking at me with a matured look, Manasi took my face into her hands and said, “I had decided not to cry but I cried just for you, mother”. Hearing her answer, I could only wonder at the irony of the situation; how crying suddenly became the love of a child towards her mother.