Autism – Challenge Accepted

A Heartfelt Note during Autism Awareness Month

Diagnosis and the journey thereafter

It has been nine years since my son was diagnosed with autism. He is a non-verbal autistic child on the higher end of the spectrum, and life has never been the same since then.

When my son started school at 2.5 years old, he was not speaking. We thought that the challenges of living abroad without extended family support and the demands of our daily routines were causing a speech delay, which is a common phenomenon in children. We hoped that he would develop new social contacts and skills that would encourage him to communicate more explicitly, but a few months passed, and there was no change. He couldn’t mingle with other children and was always sitting alone in one corner of the room while other kids played in groups.

Concerned about my child’s development, I sought expert advice. Before getting an appointment with the child development and psychological department of the hospital (which involved a long wait), I did some online research and discovered that my son had all the classic symptoms of autism, including delayed speech, little to no socialization, arranging toys in a linear pattern, flipping hands, no response to his name, no eye contact, high sensitivity to people, noises, and lights, etc.

I knew it was time to seek professional help to have a clear picture, but I still hoped I would be proven wrong. Unfortunately, the diagnosis confirmed my intuition, and it broke my heart despite my preparedness for the worst possible outcome.

https://www.autism.org.au/what-is-autism/?gclid=CjwKCAjw6IiiBhAOEiwALNqncT5m92FjCsp1AMYfkCZztgBB5qQsLwe2KyaF7kROXP72KaGyfeI4sRoCqUwQAvD_BwE

We faced a challenge by fate, and we had no other option but to catch it. A shortage of schools catering to special needs kids is common in Brussels, and our son’s first disappointment after being diagnosed was the rejection of his place in a regular school because the teachers were not trained in the special needs care required of autistic children. We had to pull him out of the school immediately, and we couldn’t blame the teachers for their honesty.

Fortunately, my son got a place in a day hospital that functioned like a daycare or a school for kids with different needs or issues. Autism was one of them, and before my son started his next school in 2016, he continued in the day hospital for two years. That was a great help indeed. By the time he got a place in the special school, he was toilet trained, understood how to use pictures for communication (PECS – Picture Exchange Communication System), and could use a word or two to communicate his needs.

https://nationalautismresources.com/the-picture-exchange-communication-system-pecs/

In 2016, he got a place in a primary school founded specifically for kids with Autism Spectrum Disorder. It’s been nine years since then, and the journey continues. We are still battling his agony of being unable to explain inner frustrations, high sensitivity to loud noises, and inability to concentrate for long periods on any particular activity (which impairs his learning abilities to read and write). There have been numerous occasions when his pent-up frustration would turn into a  meltdown, and he would end up shouting, crying, and hitting himself. At that moment the only thought that crosses my mind is “I wish I could understand your unsaid words”.

But it doesn’t mean that there has been no progress at all. He called me “mom” when he was eight years old, one of the happiest moments of my life. He is becoming more autonomous every day (can make a simple sandwich for himself when hungry), and more accepting of the changes proposed to him. He uses single word communication for stating what he needs. He has developed an interest in cooking which we would love to develop further.

Stigma Associated

Our journey with autism so far has been full of ups and downs. But I am happy that we didn’t shy away from seeking help and accepted the diagnosis and requisite guidance positively. That reminds me of an incident that dates back to 2004-2005. I used to teach kindergarten kids. I had a student who had similar issues like my son. But since I was not aware of the reason behind such traits (read lack of awareness then), I couldn’t specify clearly to the parents. I suggested parents see a child psychologist to understand the reason. Parents took it otherwise. His mother asked me upfront “Do you think my son is mad? All he needs is the teacher’s attention.”

Being a parent myself now, I accredit that mother’s response to a lack of awareness and an attached sense of embarrassment in such cases (especially in societies of the Indian sub-continent). The unfortunate thing is even after so many years, autism awareness is by and large still a bookish concept. Except for a few experts in the medical fraternity, psychologists, and the special education faculty autism isn’t a much-known concept among the masses. 

Even in 2023, when I told someone about autism, they had a blank expression and declined to know anything about it. What’s more worrying about the scenario is people consider autism to be some sort of disease that can be cured with medicines. My brother’s neighbour suggested that I must see a doctor as his nephew in a similar condition had a considerable improvement after the doctor’s intervention. I clearly don’t know what has transpired or what was the situation they dealt with but my stance was clear “Autism is not an illness”. Sadly a certain level of stigma is still associated with neurodevelopmental disorders that people don’t want to talk or accept about them openly. 

 A kid diagonised with autism needs therapies to enable him/her develop skills for daily life, communicate better (though every autistic is different when it comes to communication skills) and improvise the social interaction/behaviour. People with autism or any other neurodevelopmental issue deserve comprehension and compassion, period!

https://www.kennedykrieger.org/stories/myths-facts-about-autism-spectrum-disorder#:~:text=MYTH%3A%20People%20with%20autism%20cannot,friends%2C%20spouses%2C%20and%20children.

You can always share with me!

After I shared about my son’s diagnosis, a friend of mine called me and said she wanted to share something. She opened up about her son who was also diagnosed with autism spectrum. She poured out her heart about her struggles as an autism parent. She chose me to confide in, and I consider myself fortunate. Recently, another friend of mine shared her doubts about her child being on the spectrum. I understand how nervous that point can be to be at. 

 Being an autism parent isn’t easy (for that matter parenting comes with its own set of challenges). Constant efforts to provide better opportunities to enable their kids to learn and lead a life at par with any other person coupled with anxiety about “what after us” defines the lives of autism parents. 

I have had my fair share of struggles and still continuing to deal with them but would be happy to lend my heartfelt support to parents with autistic kids. I don’t have any professional training but have the heart at the right place to hear you out and understand your position. I think we deserve such support.

An Important Mention

Whatever my journey has been, I consider myself to be lucky enough to have found helping people and dependable organizations to smooth out the bumps in our ride. Since the diagnosis SUSA and FAMISOL (NGOs in Brussels, Belgium) have been constantly on our side, helping us to plan activities for my kid, seeking government aid/benefits, searching for a place in school, etc. My son’s school “Ecole AstronAutes” has been a great asset to us in this journey so far. Expertise alone can’t set things right, it’s love and care that work wonders. I am privy to this. 

In India, I came across a wonderful organization “ASHA HAI” which literally translates to There’s hope. True to its name, the organization with its well-trained faculty is putting in a lot of effort to turn around and make lives easy for kids with autism spectrum and other special needs.

Asha Hai – Aiming inclusivity & empowering young minds

Final words

Don’t let the definition of autism define or limit your love for your child or the dreams and aspirations of your kid. They have a different prism to look at things, perhaps not only different but beautiful as well than how we perceive the world around us.

The Moral Of The Story…..

Yet another page from the mother-daughter diary

“Mom, please tell me a story and put me to sleep,” my daughter requested. It’s a part of our routine. Sometimes I read folk tale books, and sometimes I play bedtime stories on YouTube (when I have a lot of things to wind up and anxiety kicks in thinking of the remaining agenda). But there are times when she demands stories freshly cooked up. She also hands me a few specifications, like certain characters, names of the characters, certain habits, and so on. Trust me, she plucks fruits of imagination from La La Land and lets me feast on some of the juiciest fruits. Once ingredients are given to me, the onus is on my shoulders to serve her with an enjoyable story, laced with a moral, of course.

So this time she wanted me to tell her a jungle story with a baby elephant named Daisy as the central character. To weave stories instantly is a difficult task, but parenting comes with additional features. Either you end up being a pro at multitasking or you nevertheless end up doing the job somehow. I fall into the second category. Let me go straight to the story. Don’t worry, I won’t make you fall asleep (the purpose of a bedtime story), and I will keep it short.

The story:

Daisy moved to a new jungle colony. Monkeys inhabited the area in large numbers. Daisy was delighted to make new friends. Her days would pass loitering around in the jungle, exploring every nook and corner while her friends were busy scaling high trees. Her mother was upset with how Daisy spent her days, doing nothing productive compared to her friends. “Why don’t you learn anything from your friends?” “You can give climbing a tree at least a try.” “You are giving me a lot of tension, mind you” her mother’s rant would go on and on. She even made Daisy participate in the area’s annual monkeys race. Daisy failed and failure has to some extent stirred resentment in her.

Daisy’s parents had to go to a nearby colony. They entrusted Daisy’s responsibility to neighbours. Everyone assembled on the ground, having general chit-chat. A rabbit named Bonny came running, breathing heavily. He had dreadful news to share. “Guys, I overheard hunters in the nearby fields; they are going to launch an attack on our colony.” “We need to think and act fast,” Bonny said, distressed. The gloom was in the air. As he was still speaking, a shot was fired into the air, setting off chaos. Monkeys were rushing to find a cover. A few of them were hopping on the treetops to locate the exact location of the hunters. Amid the chaos, Daisy considered using her strength to resolve the situation and help others as well. Creating hurdles for hunters, she uprooted trees and flung them over. That would buy time for escaping. A coordinated effort helped Daisy and her friends escape the hunters’ trap.

When Daisy’s parents returned, they learned about the entire fiasco. They were proud when everyone in the colony praised Daisy. Her mother patted Daisy’s back with her trunk. “I’m proud of you, dear,” she whispered. Daisy smiled and said, “But mom, I couldn’t climb trees as you would have liked it.” “I am sorry for that,” she said, leaving the place, leaving her mother pondering over her behaviour when she constantly compared her daughter to others.

As soon as I finished the story, my daughter made a quick remark. “Daisy’s mother is none other than you. You compare me to my cousins.”

When I made up this story, I knew that she was smart enough to find real-life references, though I wasn’t creative enough. I replaced fish with elephants. Yes, as much as I boast of being a cool Gen X parent, I am sometimes guilty of being an anxious and overly enthusiastic parent. I have no shame in admitting that I do compare my kids to others (sometimes). When I notice my daughter repeating the same calculation mistake every three days, the paranoia kicks in. A matrix of future scenarios’ permutations and combinations dangles in front of me. I end up giving her examples of her cousins who have a vast syllabus compared to her and a rigid education system.

But going back in time, I, and perhaps a majority of 80s and 90s kids, have witnessed a similar kind of parenting style (talking about the Indian scenario; I am not aware of how things were then in the rest of the world or, say, outside of Asia). Blame it on the cutthroat competition in every field, parents compare their kids (mostly academically) to their peers. The purpose was to secure a comfortable life for their kids in an unseen future, but the impact in the present ranged from stressful to dreadful. My mother, being not highly educated herself, always dreamed of giving her kids a good education. The only way she thought was right was to keep track of our marks and tally them with our friends. Whenever I used to have a bad examination, nervousness would consume me. Nervousness about how to convey how badly I fared at the exam and the results that followed I used to share my woes with my brother. He had a perfect solution up his sleeves. He used to say, “Simply say that you did well, and when the results are announced, you can have your share of reprimand from mom. Why double your trouble?” Fortunately, things changed when I started my graduation. My mom no longer compared my results; rather, she started to believe in the process of learning, that is, to understand the concept. More importantly, she believed in me and said that I was responsible enough to take care of my studies. A breath of fresh air! And, happy to say that I lived up to it.

So can you blame me for the occasional “look at them” behaviour? (Ideally, you can; I am guilty and have no qualms accepting the same.) But I have been privy to such an environment, and it makes its presence felt in my thought process sometimes.

Coming back to my situation, I train my brain not to fall into the temptation of making comparisons of any sort. But as the flawed character I am, I do fumble sometimes. I compare myself with other successful women (the definition of success is debatable). I have a specific set of problems, and the people I compare myself to have their sagas to tell. But everything becomes opaque to me, and I turn a blind eye to the obvious. This is where self-doubt takes good control over my senses and abilities as well. I want to make special mention of my husband’s role here. He never compared kids to others, for he had the same experience as mine as a kid. According to him, comparison connotes pain and misery. He is convinced that such a juxtaposition elicits (most of the time) negative emotions. It kills confidence. He clearly stated, “I wouldn’t mind even if my daughter decides to be a worker with the garbage cleaning department as long as she is happy and an honest person.” (As a child, she expressed an interest in becoming a garbage collector. Now her favourite jobs have changed for a while. He got his priorities straight, I must say. A lot to learn from him.

Let’s have a broader perspective:

Is comparison completely evil? Or can it be a tool to leverage better performance? The impact of comparison on our lives depends on how we are applying it. I believe we can not completely do away with comparison. It is omnipresent on both micro and macro levels, essentially dealing with quantifiable things. The purpose is to improve. We are a part of the social fabric, and comparison among us seeps through at one or the other point. If used as a tool of introspection, it paves a way for implementing a concrete plan of action to reach the goal. Comparison is a tool to leverage introspection only if we are ready to accept our weaknesses, identify our strengths and prepare a unique path to tread. We shall be able to enjoy the process of learning (from others) and understanding (ourselves). Customization is the key because of the uniqueness of every handler who is using comparison to optimize the results. Precisely every journey, destination and path is different. But what if the element of customization (understanding our own circumstances) is missing? You are either blindly fancying or ranting about someone somewhere in a better position and messing up with your own life. In my mother tongue, Telugu, there is a saying that translates to: “A fox burned its skin to have the look (stripes) of a tiger. The underlying meaning is to imitate someone by being in their place or position. It will only lead to pain. If the purpose of weighing or comparing oneself is to achieve acceptability, to meet certain notions and standards, then pushing the envelope to reach there can lead to irreversible losses. For example, fashion influencers do a fashion haul every two days. They purchase clothes from brands and showcase (read: show off) them to gain traction online. The vanity of such behaviours rubs off on their primary target audience, which is young people. The clock of comparison ticks, “Let me get the same dress.” “Let me lay my hands on the same brands.” “I need to amp up my wardrobe just like the influencer/star.” Their actions therein without assessing their needs and circumstances could have rather serious implications. They could be mental, financial, and, in this particular case, environmental as well. Case study of how fashion haul impacts the environment: https://www.euronews.com/green/2022/10/17/how-are-shein-hauls-making-our-planet-unlivable#::text=The%20fashion%20industry%20is%20responsible, what%20they were in 2000.

That is one off-beat example (out of the context of the current conversation).

Conclusion (moral of the story):

Comparison in a jungle colony as Daisy’s is completely futile undoubtedly. But for homo sapiens, the tool of comparison could be either useful or frivolous. It all depends on the acceptance of the conditions, the enjoyment derived from learning and carving a unique path to reach the goal. The aim of comparison should be to induce betterment and not to belittle or make one feel miserable.

Last but not the least, I shouldn’t be giving this heavy speech to my 7-year-old daughter. I better stop comparing her to others, for she is precious and carries her own set of capabilities. Mindfulness mode should be on default mode. For myself, I must concentrate on the path, customization you know!

Spelling of LOVE

 The flares of your seething rage when I fail to take a stand for myself spells love for me.

The Innocent faults you make to weave perfection in mundane activities spell love for me. 

The indifference you show towards my imperfections that make me queer spells love for me.

The calm and smile that you don as you fiercely weed out problems from my way spells love for me. 

The wary that veils your face at the slightest hint of discomfort tapping at my door spells love for me.

The way you cajole me to spread my wings against the winds of uncertainty spells love for me.

The comfort of your embrace that soothes the pain which had my soul and body wriggling spells love for me.

The happiness adorning your eyes as I succeed in conquering my fears spells love for me.

The lies that you never let respire between us as you always nurtured truth spells love for me.

The twinkle in your eyes as my name marks its presence on your lips spells love for me.

The warmth of the teacup slid through my fingers as sickness knocked me down spells love for me.

The detour to the memory lane that you zealously participate in every time with me spells love for me.

The stains of my tears on your sleeves that you have wiped off forever spell love for me.

The secrets of my worst self and darkest past that I confided in you spells love for me. 

The careless laugh on my face that you only are privy to in this world full of formalities spells love for me.

The way your perfections complement my imperfections and complete me spells love for me.

The nature of this union where my unspoken words are understood as I sigh spells love for me.

The fact that we are maturing together spells love for me. 

My Prized Possession

A question that put me in a dilemma,

What is your prized possession?

That one thing that reminds of you,

And not passed on in succession.

I glanced with pride at the riches amassed,

But saw them settle down as rubble beyond a trace, 

when fierce winds of time stuck with the lightening of change,

the proprietorship had a change of name and face.

I turned my gaze towards kith and kin,

looking through the prism of realisation.

They are bonds that bound me with responsibility and compassion

but soon will abandon me taking their route to liberation.

I contemplated my success and laurels.

But the happiness eluded me constantly,

as my desires soared in copious amounts and hunger was insatiable.

Everything I clasped with my fingers evaporated instantly.

Fatigue overpowered my soul and I collapsed,

at the threshold of reckoning and awareness.

My face was tucked deep in the vast dunes of sand called time,

As the incessant pain blurred my vision, I discovered queerness.

Oscillating between hope and despair I made quite a few marks,

trending between imprudence and wisdom, I left my footprints.

Travelling from a person to a personality, I have covered a huge stretch

Assessing gains and losses along the path, I had my own stint.

My abode will dissipate into the cosmos as dust,

my soul will have a new haven and destinations will have new seekers.

But my journey will resonate with my name forever,

for the paths may be common but the imprints differ.

My journey is my prized possession!!

No Pain Left…

Staring at the vast stretch of blank sky, I found the same emptiness dwelling deep within me;

Not batting an eyelid as the ambers burnt incessantly, leaving behind smoke engulfing my soul;

The rain drenched me to the extent of rot and the sun parched me to the extent of lifelessness;

No breeze could caress my heart, no rainbow could soothe my sight for there is no pain left either.

Amidst the cacophony of voices defining and defying me, I chose obscurity as my companion for I fear being identified;

As the echoes from the past are still eloquent in my ears, I chose to strangulate my opinions for I no longer wish to be heard;

Eternities passed by me as I longed for the solace of appreciation, I chose to embrace the earth beneath for I no longer seek;

Celebration of ironies and hypocrisies triumphed over acceptance, I chose defeat gleefully for there is no pain left either.

Crushed by expectations, my hopes fluttered in the cage as my dreams battled for their existence and breathed their last;

My knees trembled as the ground of reality kept slipping away and the broken arms struggled to keep up the burden of charades;

Making my way through the corpses of relationships, odour suffocated me as the ghosts of formalities pinned me down;

The line of difference between compassion and pretense blurred, as I lie cold in tatters with my heart charred, there is no pain left.

Kindness – A Value Inherited

I, as an individual hold “generosity” in high regard of all values a human must possess.  Because that is what makes a human “A Human”.  If your heart is unmoved and untouched by others’ misery then you are just any other specie born on earth, scientifically called Homo sapiens, and just a link to this ecosystem.  Nothing great to brag about, right?

And my very idea of being a human was shaped by my father and in due course of my life, I have met many people (some in my contact list and some unknown) who made me hold on to this value very dearly.

Talking about my inspiration, my father I would like to quote one thing best describes his outlook

“Exhibiting a value you believe in needs no audience and no appreciation in reciprocation “

Yes, this is how he was. I would like to mention one incident from his life that would suit the quote mentioned above perfectly:

We were having dinner when there was a knock at the door.  “Who it could be” was our question and when the door was opened my father found a neighbor of one of our acquaintances in that area standing in front of him. “Yes, what happened he enquired.  They seemed to be in a hurry to finish matters “Woh jo aapki bhasha bolte hain na unki tabiyat bahut kharaab hai aur ghar pe koi nahi.  Aakar dekh lijiye” (the one who speaks the same language as you is seriously ill and no one is around, come and check upon him) and left. It would be surely a waste of space discussing such shallow minds here so I skip to the situation. When my father reached there the situation was worse than what he thought. That person was suffering all alone with dire cholera, lying in a pool of his own puke and feces. That was a gross scenario to recreate. My father took him to the hospital immediately singlehandedly. Meanwhile, he was drenched as that man puked on my father as well but that didn’t deter him from exhibiting the value he believes in. He served him wholeheartedly and took care of him in hospital for two days at the expense of his own comfort till his family was back. But in the end, that man for some reason which my father had no knowledge of wrote off everything and uttered really mean stuff against my father. But as a real gentleman he was, he didn’t hold any grudge against him. When poked at being so generous always he said “neither his misery was planned by him nor my help was sought so why to make an issue of an intentional act on my part. I was not expecting any accolades for what I did. And anyways we must not keep a count of our good deeds at least, someone else is already doing it”.

I have always seen him in this light. No complications whatsoever when reacting as a human to the other’s pain.

Coming back to the question “whether values can be passed as inheritance or not?”  Frankly, I am clueless. But surely to keep the values alive they need to be drilled in the day in and day out. Since children imitate well it’s only through the practice of values we care for, that we can pass on to them the legacy, period! Had I not seen my father as a generous soul, doing his bit relentlessly how would I believe in such values?

In The Quest Of……

Just another day, another page from mother-daughter diaries: A few days back I was having a regular “to/before bed” conversation with my daughter, who was as usual raring to go with her canon of questions. From her “Why, Who, What, When, and How” kitty she pulled out a gem that set my mind on a quest for I was unable to provide her with a convincing answer. And before I could answer her, she slept but I couldn’t stop thinking. Introspection ensued. Her question was “What is the most important thing in this world?”

The world is going in a loop – needs once fulfilled are replaced by wants, and once wants are also satiated heart wanders to new avenues to spread its wings, to know, to explore, to get, and the cycle continues. This is how we witnessed advancements in human history, be it territorial expansions of kingdoms or the technological amelioration that we are enjoying. Lives (perhaps lifestyles) have definitely been improved. Now let’s focus on an analogy: Imagine the world to be an airplane propelled by the fuel of desires, and dreams to perch higher and higher, scaling new altitudes of success with every flight. What would happen to the aircraft if the coolant is missing, if the fuel is adulterated with impurities or if it doesn’t have a ground to land on? The fire ignited to provide an elevation might devour the entire structure, isn’t it? Coolant here is satiation and content. Impurity is greed that when mixed with the fuel of dreams/desires can clog the entire machinery dooming the flight. Peace is the runway that every flight needs when it lands on its wheels of love and compassion utilizing the shock absorbers of realization, enlightenment, and wisdom. Well, that might seem to be quite a convoluted explanation. I shifted my focus to a handful of examples from human history:

1. Before King Ashoka of the Mauryan Empire became Ashoka the great and he resorting to Buddhism, spreading the message of peace all over he was like any other tyrant king whose purpose was to conquer and amass strength. It was after the Kalinga war, the massacre rendered by his own army shook him to the core and he retracted from his old ways and accepted Buddhism to trend the path of peace.
2. Before England was one country, there was a long trail of blood and gore where innumerable innocent lives were sacrificed to ever-rising flames of power hunger and ego. It was Alfred the Great (King of the West Saxons from 871 to c. 886 ) who had nurtured a vision of unifying the war marred land and establishing peace so that lives could thrive and prosper in every manner. Ironically blood was the price that was paid but nonetheless in the end after many decades his dream did come true (Athelstan, grandson of King Alfred was the first king of unified land called England).
3. European Union is a great example of modern history where different countries agreed to set aside their bitter rivalries, and make amendments for the larger betterment of people suffering the aftermath of world war. The EU was originally created with the aim of ending the frequent and bloody wars between neighbours, which culminated in the Second World War. The Schuman Declaration, which encouraged the establishment of the European Coal and Steel Community, laid the foundation for the European Union as we know it today (source: Google)

These are a few examples from medieval and modern history where the world has to finally resort to peace for the longevity, and prosperity of human beings.

Is the peace absolute or just a pact? The ground of peace has been purchased at a hefty price of numerous sacrifices, amendments and clauses, and a mutual understanding/ respect of territories and boundaries. And the fear of breach begets flexing muscle power in a bid to maintain the status quo. The recent example (in my petty knowledge) of Indo-China border tension speaks volumes about the price that nations have to pay for attaining peace. In my hindsight, I believe it’s more of a pact and order that the world is following to avoid disarray and disaccord. The bliss of absolute peace is still at bay.

Fulcrums to the Peace that we need: Compassion, satiation, actions motivated and guided righteously, and enlightenment – these are the fulcrums to leverage the peace in every human being and thereon at a macro level. I understand that this statement is quite a beaten one over and over but a truth that we deliberately or otherwise ignore. A petty example: We casually body shame or mock people for their weaknesses under the pretext of lighter note fun. We have no idea and literally don’t care about the negative impact we possibly could create on the other person’s mind, what havoc such a mockery is capable of creating in the longer run, and how it messes with the sanity of one’s mind. We avoid and hate “crime” that is punishable under a law that is documented. And those that are not, we make our souls obscure to nature’s unwritten law of embracing the differences. With oppressed, raging, and conflicting souls, where is the peace?

The whole night I spent introspecting if my answer is right if peace is indeed the most important thing the world needs right now? In the morning I asked my daughter if she has an answer to her question from the last night, and she smiled as she said “Yes I know the most important thing in this world – “You & Me”. And that kept me thinking again….

BEING A FOREIGNER

Candles Online

“Je parle Anglais?” which translates to “I speak English” but the question here is why there is a question mark if this is a plain statement. Well, to answer that I must take a few steps back into the past when I was a newcomer to the city of Brussels and the French language was more alien to me than my relationship with it now.

It all began in the year 2009. Thanks to the extremely busy schedules of my husband back in those days (there were times when he used to leave home at 7:45 AM and won’t see it back till 3 AM the next morning, I was left at the mercy of television and internet connection to spend my days. But for how long. Slowly I started despising my loneliness, the damp and gloomy weather of the city where the sun won’t greet…

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Mother-Daughter Diaries

Originally posted on Candles Online

Mom I have a doubt,” said my 6 years old daughter. “What’s it dear?” I asked, to be only left stumped by her question. “Why papa loves you when your face is full of spots?”. I am not even exaggerating, those were really her words. And I don’t really want to blame her, it’s her exposure to the fairy tales where the princess is all fair and flawless. I can understand with the kind of exposure kids of this generation have the kind of questions they might ask seem to be too soon, too early, and to be honest too much too. I wanted to give her a reason, perhaps a lecture on what true love (ironically beyond the gamut of reasoning) means but considering her age my explanation would be “Too much” for her to comprehend.

I simply asked, “Don’t you love me with all these blemishes on my face?”. And she didn’t budge as she said “I love you, Mama, you are the best” and she gave me a kiss as she hurried to get into the school before the final bell rang. Perhaps one day I will be able to provide a better explanation to satiate her query.

Raising kids (generation alpha) as my dear friend @sizzlybizzly (Rajnandini from Candles Online) has explained in her article OF SENSE AND SENSIBILITY, could really be a tight rope walk. Explaining them to react and behave differently in apparently similar-looking situations is quite a task. For instance, as a family with a reasonably comfortable life, I encourage my daughter to help the poor and needy and that seems to be well embedded in her thoughts. But on the other hand, I also warn her against falling for tricks of people who pretend to be needy to avoid sweating it out. And reasoning (explaining how to and why to differentiate) such situations in my personal capacity prove to be difficult ones given the fact that my daughter is a bit impatient. The moment I start dissecting the matter for clarity she says “I don’t understand what are you saying” or worse “enough Mama, not now, just play with me”.

As a parent, I want to clarify every doubt that dwells in my child’s brain. Sometimes I have substantial corroboration to my answers that I can give her instantly, for example why plucking fruit from the tree isn’t the same thing as butchering a goat, when both are done to serve the same purpose – to fill up a hungry stomach. Sometimes I am at a loss of my reasoning abilities altogether. Like why the letter U hasn’t been pronounced the same way in “Put”, and “But” because I never questioned it (maybe my friend @theextraaaamile, Savio from Candles Online, has an answer to this 😃). And then there are moments I have reasons to support my reaction/responses but as I mentioned earlier they could be too complicated for a child to comprehend. For example, when I tell my daughter to be social & adjustable to and under different circumstances, and be independent (not seeking validation from others or succumbing to any pressure) at the same time. That’s a tough call as I have to hand out her reasons sans ambiguity of any sort.

All said and done I have realized that in the process of parenting I am growing up too. My role as a parent is a reason enough to be a better version of myself every day. With so many sources of information and influence around, kids surely need a security filter, a cushion to rely on. And that’s where the power of reasoning comes in handy. Valid the reasons are, better the chances of nurturing mature minds. It’s really important that doubts of any nature shouldn’t be squashed away under the pretext of “nothing concerning you”, especially when we impart the knowledge of DOs and DON’Ts to shape their personalities and ideologies.

My journey with the extra “administrative” responsibility of Reasoning has just begun as my daughter has just started questioning. I should be better prepared for the bazooka of questions blazing at me, she hasn’t even scratched the surface yet and there’s an ocean to dive in.

Investments

Goin' the extra..aaamile

There was a time I heard people saying “invest in shares”to be followed by “invest in mutual funds”and then a few years later I heard a few say,“invest in property”, and nowadays what I hear is – “invest in people & relationships”

The kind of life I lead, I would like most of all to invest in myself as much as possible. You will definitely not find me idling my time dining at a restaurant or partying with fake people and alcohol. I would rather be at home doing things that make me happy, be it watching a movie on Netflix, playing an online game, writing on my blog, or keeping myself busy with a hobby – if nothing else you’ll find me reading a book or listening to music, or if I am out of home, you will simply find me on a walk away…

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