Of Childhood

The noise the children were making slowly increased in volume. Simran, resting in her bedroom, got up and went to see what they were up to. She saw her nine-year-old daughter Madhu and some neighbouring children playing Monopoly. She saw her friend's daughter, Lalli, sitting quietly, slightly away from the rest of the children.

"What's happening?" she asked.

"Mamma! Ankit is not letting us play! He wants all the money!" Madhu said.

Simran frowned. She did not like to get involved in kids' scrapes. "Well, don't make too much noise. I am trying to rest," she said and turned to go.

But, it was not to be. She heard someone crying. She rushed back to see Ankit's sister Priya crying. "What happened!" she asked exasperated.

"Mamma, Ankit hit Priya!"

"Ankit?" she turned to the boy. He was a perennial nuisance, hitting other children if he thought he was losing. But for sometime now, he had been better behaved. What had come over him now? She turned to Priya, pushing Ankit to the background for a minute. "Come here, let me see..."

The girl's cheek was swelling. Ankit had hit his sister with a car he had been holding in his hand. Simran decided that it was best to call their mother, who came running down. "Ankit!" the mother said just one word on hearing what had happened. The 11-year-old boy walked to her with his head hung. She lifted his face up, and gave one tight slap. All around, Simran included, stood in stunned silence. "Go up!" she ordered the boy, who went away without a word. The mother held her daughter and asked, "What did you do?"

Nine-year-old Priya, clearly mortified, said defensively, "I bought the state he was eyeing for..."

The mother's no-nonsense look stopped the girl. "He likes to win. Can't you let him, in a game?"

Priya hung her head and went away, silent tears wetting her cheeks. The mother looked up at Simran and said apologetically, "He has exams coming. His exams are coming, you know, and he seems to become very aggressive then? I keep telling him - Priya gets better marks than him and he does not even put in the effort he can! This time I have warned him I will not give him chocolates if he doesn't score well! ... I am so sorry for the bother. I will warn him not to misbehave."

Simran just stared open mouthed, nodded because she didn't know what to say and turned to look at her daughter, who was busy playing with the remaining two friends. Madhu had exams too but seeing her, no one would have thought so. And she did well - not the top of the class, but not bottom either. Simran shrugged. She was fine with that, and so was Madhu.

She caught sight of Lalli, still not part of the crowd, busy writing something. Simran walked up to her and asked in a friendly tone, "What is it?"

"Some math... I have math Olympiad coming up."

"Oh...? That's nice," Simran said.

"Is Shruthi also giving the test?" Lalli asked.

Simran looked at her daughter, who seemed blissfully unaware of everything except Monopoly, and asked, "Does she look like?"

"No..." Lalli drawled, a dissatisfied look on her face.

"So... is this the first time for you?" Simran asked.

Lalli shook her head. "No, I have been giving this for the last four years. And Science Olympiad. And Spelling Bee..."

"Oh really!" Simran exclaimed, wondering if she was doing something wrong. Her daughter, the same age as Lalli, had given Math Olympiad only once - the previous year - and then declared that was it. And here was this child... "Some of the portions have not been taught yet, right?"

"Yes, but my mother insists that I learn those up. She helps me... Here, these are practice sums for HCF - which we have not learnt yet."

"Oh!" Simran said and was silent for a moment. She wasn't sure if she was so keen on her daughter rushing through portions just to give a test. "Hmmm. But do you understand it?"

Lalli shook her head. "But my mother thinks I am..." there was a pause before the child said in a slightly nasal, adult voice, "CAPABLE!" Simran burst out laughing and finally, the child smiled. "So, I go for dance class twice a week, swimming, thrice, and music twice a week. Of course...I come to you for Hindi. And mamma teaches me science and maths at home. Weekends, she wants me to go for tennis, but because I have to prepare for this, I have not started yet... Maybe once this gets over..."

Simran's head reeled. But trying not to show it, she asked, "And you enjoy it all?"

Lalli shook her head emphatically. "I want to play... and dance, maybe. But the other things? No."

Simran pursed her lips sympathetically, and the girl imitated her expression. Both nodded at each other, then smiled. Lalli was bright, no doubt. "So... when do you play?"

Lalli shook her head. "I don't. If I do well in the Olympiad, my mother has promised that she will get me a video game to play when I want to relax."

Simran got up, feeling the child's heavy heart affecting her. Her daughter and her friends got up suddenly. "Mamma! I am going down to play. Lalli, will you join? Oh math? Okay, you do that." And she was off.

Simran watched her daughter bouncing down the stairs and play with her friends, whose parents were obviously as neglectful of their children's future as she was. Well, they will find something they will enjoy doing, she decided and went back in to take the much needed rest.

Enough

I want this and that
Grabbing them all up close
When one slips through
I cry, not wanting to let it go.

Even when I have all
That I could want
Why does that one
Bother me more?

Within reach
And yet not so!
The soul longs for it
Yet so much more!

A spark itches within
Wanting to light a fire
When that fire is lit
The spark itches again

Is there no end?
No word in my dictionary
Called "enough"?
Giving contentment and peace?

Why then this desire
That burns bright
Burning all within
Focused only on new goals?

Another First - Time

Tamil blog was for a lark, to see if I could write, could refresh my knowledge of Tamil. It is a trial - for Tamil, to be caught between my mind and fingers, and sometimes be mangled.

But it opened a strange door for me - that of translation. Seeing my Tamil blog, a friend referred my name to someone looking for a translator from Tamil to English. And today, I received the copy of the book - The Story of a Seed, original by TJ Gnanavel, translated by me, and released on December 5.

It was a thrilling journey - to come closer to my mother tongue, to interpret the lines in a meaningful way in a foreign language that has become the second tongue, and also to read the story of the founding couple, their travails and how they overcame the challenges. It was a time to learn - Tamil as well as how to live life with a smile always. I had heard about Santhi and Duraismy, but while translating, I almost lived with them their high and low moments.

Now I am like the man-eater, having tasted blood, raring for more such opportunities.

The Backhand

Suchi stepped into the manager's cabin. She was the manager now! She would sit on the manager's seat.

A small smile lit up her face. It had been a tough year, but she had worked - oh how she had worked to reach here.

She sat down and swiveled gently. In the heart of her hearts, she knew that all her hard work could have been bypassed if it hadn't been for Priya. She sighed - Priya! She closed her eyes for a minute and thanked lord. He had tested her and she had proved her worth, thanks to Priya. If it hadn't been for Priya, her work would have gone unnoticed. Priya, her classmate from college, her junior at work, the woman who hated her. The woman because of whom Suchi had been made the manager with a good hike.

Suchi remembered the day she had entered the office to get her offer letter and had found Priya already there, an offer letter in hand. On seeing Suchi, Priya had hung on. That day had set the tone for their relationship at work.

*
"Hey, nice to see you here!" Priya greeted her. "I am joining here as the executive assistant. You too?"

Suchi was dismayed to see Priya here. Even during their college days, they had not shared a great rapport, each preferring her own group. It was an intrinsic dislike not founded on any strong basis but strengthened by the events over the next three years. Minor things, nothing much to write home about... But still ranklers.

"How come you are here?" Suchi sidestepped Priya's question.

"Oh, I did company secretaryship. But I am not keen on a career in that so when I saw this advertisement, I thought I will give it a shot. What about you?"

"I did my post grad in marketing and worked with a product marketing company for three years," Suchi said, hoping that this would indicate to Priya her seniority at work.

"So you are joining as EA here?" Priya demanded again. The smile did not soften the question in any way.

Suchi shook her head. "As Assistant Manager." She didn't want to add that Priya would be reporting to her.

Priya's eyes indicated her displeasure though the lips continued to smile. Suchi made good her escape. She joined a week later and found Priya working furiously. She stepped in to meet her manager who welcomed her warmly. As she was leaving after the formality, he paused and said, "I would have preferred if you hadn't discussed your role and salary with Priya."

Suchi looked at him in surprise. "She cornered me... Any problem?"

"Yes, she didn't take it well because you both are the same age. But you have experience, and we expect that to be of value. Please don't discuss your salary or role with anyone unnecessarily." The hunted look in his face suggested that Priya was giving him a tough time. Suchi could guess, from past experience, that it wouldn't be easy for him to handle her. She wondered if she was prepared for it either.

She discovered, as the months progressed, that she wasn't. Priya was an untiring source of venom, poured out within the hearing of all colleagues. Suchi hesitated to put her foot down. When Priya was slack, she stepped in to complete the tasks.

Her manager called her one day, clearly tired. Suchi could smell Priya's perfume in the room and guessed that she had here just before Suchi was called. The hunted look on  his face - she recognised it as a symptom of having been grilled. Why did he put up with it! "Suchi... I know you are an efficient worker. But Priya feels you are upstaging her. Why don't you give her space to finish her tasks?"

Suchi's eyebrows shot up in shock. "But, if I do that, then I end up working late and in the early hours wrapping up after her! She believes in waiting till the last minute to finish what can be done earlier."

"Yes, yes!" he replied hastily. "But she feels she is not getting the exposure."

Suchi shrugged and left. She tried playing it Priya's way. But Priya's tendency to take every break and stretch them was really getting on her nerves. Not getting her boss's support was depressing. She withdrew to herself and focused on getting her tasks done quickly, so that she was able to look beyond her work and take on other things. She tried to ignore the dead weight on her feet. But every crisis that Priya faced, she had to find a solution. She became good at anticipating them. She was surprised when a colleague named her "Smart Solution Suchi"! She glowed at the compliment.

A small reward was when her seniors - especially the Senior Manager - from the head office called her specifically when they needed a job done - sometimes even bypassing her manager, who didn't seem to mind.

This, of course, didn't go down well with Priya. When Suchi made a trip to the HO for a meeting and returned, rumours about how - specifically how - Suchi had the senior manager in her pocket spread. Suchi was shocked. She had an uphill task reestablishing her reputation. She was viewed as fire now... Yes, that is what she became. Not easy to approach. Whatever the view others had about her and the senior manager, she saw respect for her work and for her as a person.

That was all she could do. She could do nothing more about speculation.

*

And here she was, unexpectedly the manager of the branch office. She realised that it was because Priya complained so much about her - Suchi - taking all the initiatives, unwittingly advertising Suchi's work that the management had decided on this move instead of bringing a person from the HO. Her manager had as good as told her that. Otherwise, at 26, how could she hope to handle so much responsibility!

Yes, now she knew why it was said - forgive thy enemy. She made sure she included Priya in her prayers, for without her, she would never have been able to talk of her achievements. Priya had done it for her when complaining to others. After Priya left in a huff because of Suchi's promotion, Suchi could forgive her, and enjoy the relief of finally finding the peace she sought at work.

A Wall Post to Kapil Sibal

Dear Sibalji
You fear that seditious content on the Facebook can cause riots?

But then, anti corruption slogans have not made one whit of a difference in our politicians! Why do you think it will change the balance between the different sections of the society?

Aah! You have greater faith in people's sensitivity to comments than that of politicians? That makes better sense, of course! But we would like to see some effect on the thick skins of the politicians as well! Maybe you can get them to read the posts online, if it really is so powerful?

Hoping for the winds of change...

An FB user. 

Empty, Drifting

Like a vein cut
body drained
of all the blood

Words poured out
in one long flow
as if there is no tomorrow

The mind tired
empty, needing rest
devoid of all thoughts

The computer
a constant companion
Now averse to touch

Saturated, brimming
bed beckoning
to give rest to thinking

To be, just to be
lazy and drifting
in a world of fantasy.

'Age of Seth' - So Aptly Named

I am one of those who diligently does not read the newspaper, does not watch news channels and does not have headlines updates from any of the newspapers. And so, if Suhel Seth is a well known name, then... I am not among his friends (no surprise there!)

When I was reading a review of his book Get on Top - oops, Get to the Top - by Mihir Sharma, I did laugh heartily at the man Suhel is. But, I wish he were really one of his kind! The poor fellow has stuck his neck out and written a book on what many silently continue to do. He, of course, is a man of many words. He believes in that and likes to be heard. So hardly surprising he should write about it.

He is not alone, though, is he? This is what people set store by: brand building, projecting oneself, of seen to be doing, of influence, of currying favors? Doesn't mediocrity win, with some support from money?

How do we change our own attitude to that?