Author: sreeyal

The fights they fought, the paths they laid

Posted on by sreeyal

It’s heartwarming to be able to honour labour day in the heart of a capitalist country. We can find lots of literature on the origin and why it’s not on May 1st here. But, the minimum wage policy, minimum hours of work per day, maternity & paternity leaves, the dignity of labour, were something I have experienced while in the UK, and I still can hear them here. Though the terms are not the same in the US, to commemorate a day for workers strengthens me. As Shakespeare says, “a rose by any other name would smell as sweet”!

I bow to the great souls behind the mass movements, the strikes, the sacrifices that they made, and the fights they fought to change our fate for good. Let’s not touch the subject of equal pay for both genders now.

Yes, based on the duration women work while pregnant, they can earn up to nine months of maternity leave, and a six-week paid holiday is a common norm in the UK. Now don’t let that smile fade away if you are in that part of the world.

Though born in a country where ‘dignity of labour’ is just a decorative phrase, I am fortunate enough to be nurtured by parents who have always kept their housemaids close to their hearts and treated them with warmth. I respect people based on the values they share than the degrees they hold.

Though labour day has become synonymous with consumerism (thanks to labour day sales), let’s remind ourselves of its origin, be it Mayday or the first Monday in September. Let’s grab a chance to think of those tireless labour who work in mines, roads, or deserts under the scorching sun, who go fishing in tornadoes, and those who work in the snow. Let’s thank our mail carriers, let’s honour those ground workers who make this world a cleaner and safer place.

Kick the “in”equality!

Posted on by sreeyal

We, women, don’t need any lost sandals leading cues for princes to rescue. We don’t want any extended periods of sleep that could be broken only by a kiss; we don’t need any stardom to kill us with paparazzi; we don’t need any sympathy to be recognised as women. We don’t need any domestic violence that presses us to put the heavy makeup on; we don’t need any benevolence to look after our interests, needs, and rights. Maybe we don’t need any change of identity. Change of surname (last name), including the first name, is still prevalent across many cultures. Pets in some countries lead a better life than women in certain parts. Aren’t we one equal?

“Me too”- how is it going to change the fate of a woman? That was my original thought. But lately, it dawned on me, to speak up itself is a giant leap, and the exploitation happening in Hollywood is just the tip of the iceberg.  A baby boy’s struggle inside the womb of a mother, also a woman, gives immense strength for him to dominate the “more equal” game once he is out! Is it the right of every “man” to dominate the world the way he desires? For women, it’s an everyday struggle right from fighting for the right to vote to equal pay act to possessing a driver’s license; studying to attend basic needs is still a dream for many. It’s not a pertinent problem limited to just the underdeveloped or the developing countries. It’s the fight even in the developed countries by women, for women, to women– to be safer at least in the future. Physical abuse, body shaming, and luring have been happening everywhere. Power to suppress comes with money, and women themselves are also part of that ‘powerful group.’ That’s sickening!

It’s shocking to find ‘numbers to call to talk in private’ about domestic violence in women’s restrooms in certain developed countries’ maternity wards! It’s also depressing to see a man draws more salary than a woman for the same job.

It’s a shame that ‘every’ Indian reacted, showed empathy, sympathy towards Hollywood’s ‘me too’ campaign. But when it comes to cleaning their backyard, everyone is ‘naive.’ As rightly pointed out by one lady activist on an Indian discussion channel, can any Indian movies be made without attempting rapes or abusing the vulnerable on the name of the casting couch? Now, for that matter, can any movie be made without the dirty acts?  Let’s weave strong communities /neighbourhoods that are safer for girl children and imbibe just and equal thoughts in the minds of everyone. Can women join hand in hand and give the vulnerable a supporting hand? In many religions, goddesses in idol form are prayed every day for wealth and prosperity by men. But women in real life accept and succumb to the harsh brutalities. Humanism should be on the agenda.

          Let’s welcome millions of to-be-men being born this second across the globe who could be deciding the fate of women across. Let’s hope these boys of the future generations rise with equality in their thoughts and deeds. We ought to raise a toast to those men who celebrate the women in their lives at this juncture. 

My two cents would be that every child, especially girls, must get trained in some form of martial arts and must carry a physically strong too outlook! Maybe more boys in ballet and more girls in kick-boxing :)!

Memoirs

Posted on by sreeyal

Dating back to my early teen years, I could passionately recollect how supported were all my hopes and aspirations by my very conspicuous vigour and vibrancy. And, I presumed I was in charge of my life, and happiness seemed granted. Books, along with loving, caring family and friends, were my companions. Though waking up early to birds chirping was thrilling. Those street vendors knocking on our doors with fresh, organic, non-GMO veggies felt disturbing, and the paperboy hurling the newspaper sounded interfering. The postman’s appearance intruded into my private space as my dad would receive a dozen letters every day. An emotional reminiscence made me feel touched as I have had the best childhood. Now, stuck in a motor jungle, the hyped communications can be coded- a gentle horn is a hello, and a bighorn is for anger.

Generally speaking, people are associated with their car numbers, and everyone has a busy daily schedule. In this part of the world, big parties hosting a minimum of fifty families over weekends is the norm. Greeting every guest  is not even the basis of social get-togethers. Tracing back those street vendors’ affectionate smug in my search for healthy foods in shopping malls where plastic cards do all the exchanges, and organic food is far and beyond my reach. Forget Non-GMO’s. The postman wouldn’t be knocking on my door anymore, but letters, well, primarily sales and marketing flyers, and our monthly bills are left in a box at bay.  

Back then, physical handwritten letters were part of exchanging warmth and birthday wishes among cousins and classmates who lived farther or moved places. I moved to England with my husband in 2004. Until then, all those twenty-five years of my early life were spent in a small historical, cultural town, Vizianagaram. Hailing from a small town which was the home town for us since my great grand parents time, every year, I look forward to my town!  After nearly 14 years of my marriage, I still get homesick; I still have the foreigner-feeling wherever I am.  My roots are firm, so are my experiences. My best friend, my maternal granddad, regretted it when telephones became part of every household. “If it’s a handwritten letter, I will cherish reading my letters whenever I want to, whenever I yearn for that person. These phone wishes take away my happy memories, my best time pass and make me long for my grandkids more”, in his exact words.

My granddad was eager to learn about e-mails in 1999, but he didn’t live longer to try that ‘e’spect. I miss my granddad, who was my movie partner, my walking partner, my guide, and my stress-buster, my wall. I never understood his agony about the newly forming nuclear families then and the repercussions. His usage of cloth bags to reduce plastic/paper wastage; his willingness to walk any number of miles to stay fit and be able to say hello to his friends and work colleagues on the way. His philosophy towards vasudaika kutumbam- the whole world as one family – most of his life he had been a great host and rarely a guest. I miss my grandparents’ unconditional love, my grandmum’s innocence, my granddad’s willingness to accept whatever was thrown at him, with a smile on his face though it caused pain to his heart. I was part of the latter emotion, his agony once, and I bury my head in disgust when that thought surfaces in my memory. They taught me the importance of relations in life, and hence I try and maintain one-to-one relationships with everyone I meet and get to know. I try my best to be an agony aunt to any in need. Many forget me in their happy times. I was back-stabbed many times. Yet,  I trained myself not to change my core.  I am not that weak that any negativity around me could change me.

              I have realised “Life” is in charge of me. Lots have changed, but there are affections beneath all these hustle, bustles.  Fortunately, the world around me is very sane, and definitely, love will dominate hatred.. I am incredibly fortunate to have some friends, our extended family, who have the hearts of gold and have the Midas touch. Luckily, we all share the same principles. Love begets love.

Black bean salad with phodni mirch

Posted on by sreeyal

In the process of rejuvenating my husband’s lost taste buds after the nasty flu we all have had.  Black beans, as suggested by one of my friends, help us build good cholesterol. So, here it goes:

Orange and red peppers, kumatos, lettuce, coriander leaves, pepper powder, avocado oil,  dry roasted walnuts and cashews, mint powder, salt. Mix them well.

Shallow fry slit green chillies, add chat powder and a drizzle of lemon juice.

Keep both separate and eat them together 😉

ps: not the bests of the photos but this was made while under the weather.

Under-‘mining’ Modesty

Posted on by sreeyal

I am a socially active person giving due coverage to my children on social sites, sharing my views on growth, development, and many more. Most importantly, I seek these sites when stuck with my mothering skills. I have some good friends who are not on social media and gather all their strength in a simple, traditional and harmonious way.  So, I can see that we all are a good mixture of parents and caretakers trying our best in our practices. Having observed this generation of kids across various countries, ‘principles’ are now considered baggage as a holistic approach.  And the disciplinarians are outnumbered by those who believe only in success and achievements, undermining the role that principles and behaviour play in raising emotional intelligence in children.

         Modesty, manners, and respect sound so dated, almost pejorative. These days I also have the privilege to hear that the qualities mentioned above actually act as confident hindrances in children. Self-admiration is paving ways to self-gratification.  Kids who can brag are allowed to demean other kids. Parents find their “own”  kids’ achievements satisfactory, and discipline is a forgotten word. “I am proud of you”- an everyday dialogue of most households as soon as their children fare well in anything they participate. So, can we not be proud of our children for just being themselves? If they lose in any competition, are we still not proud of them? Of course, by no means do I imply not to appreciate the achievements. We should be ‘proud of’ the kid’s act but not be proud of the kids because he or she has been an achiever- golden parenting rule, I read a while ago. Parents these days are self-indulged in boosting confidence in their kids using “You are the best,” totally ignoring the surrounding kids of the same age. My children, who don’t receive such praise, are not bothered. But my conscience says they might hate my parenting when they constantly face this bombardment by other pubic displays of flattery.

          Having vented it all out, I am blessed to be guided by many friends who follow these dated principles as a rule of thumb sans fail! There are many more friends for who discipline and good manners come second to none. In the early ’80s, over the summer holidays, my dad taught the  Sanskrit verse of the same to me, my sister, along with all my cousins,   “Vidya dadhathi vinayam“- Knowledge and education bless us with humility and being grounded.  Luckily, I fondly enjoy meeting families with similar foundations, nurturing children well, and caring for other children around. We can prosper well as a generation only when we care about the society around us. Alone, we cannot. Prosper and let prosper!

            My only worry is that children are under constant pressure & push to win everything, and anything but a lacuna is left facing failure. Winning and losing are part and parcel of a balanced life, and sooner or later, everyone will have to face reality. Are we not breeding an emotionally weak generation? Yes, it looks rosy to share our children’s successful life on our social sites, and happiness doubles when shared, but it shouldn’t be because we are ‘proud of ‘ them only because of their successes.

            Why is it in this part of the world, a cultural hub of so many countries, kids are not taught to use their Ps and Ts? A polite Please and a Thank you carry as much importance as an “Apology” when you have to! Why are many kids given an extraordinary academic push but no guidance on their upbeat personality? This nurturing will mold them to cope with various ups and downs in their lives, while we may not be around to fill them in a constant shower of praises!