tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-39962924205175553352024-03-05T20:29:23.195+05:30Parables of a Parkinson's Patient Stories of my father that compares the vibrant man he was to the less vibrant man he is now. I also hope that these authentic stories will help patients and caregivers understand and appreciate the impact Parkinson's Disease has on them.Sanghttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01972610394051964785noreply@blogger.comBlogger96125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3996292420517555335.post-89563252038885624512019-06-16T22:14:00.001+05:302020-01-23T15:33:02.088+05:30A strange thing to remember on Father's Day 2019<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
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<span style="font-family: "helvetica neue" , "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">This Father's day, I have been thinking of my father, Anna. Not that I haven't been thinking of him and my mother on and off. I have and I do. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "helvetica neue" , "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">There are literally thousands of things that remind me of my parents, who are both dead and gone. Sometimes its a smell, or a color, or a person, or a sound, or a date. Today, it's just the fact that it is Father's Day and I am seeing photos of fathers plastered all over Facebook.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "helvetica neue" , "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">Today, what I remember about my father is that he taught me what a </span><a href="https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=_gbfu4YtTMQ" style="font-family: "helvetica neue", arial, helvetica, sans-serif;" target="_blank">tuning fork</a><span style="font-family: "helvetica neue" , "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;"> was by the time I was 7 years old. </span><br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Photo Courtesy: <a href="http://crystalsingingbowls.com/mm5/merchant.mvc?Screen=CTGY&Category_Code=4AATUN&fb_comment_id=1412332388984198_2158796754337754#.XQZlT4gzY2w" target="_blank">Crystal Tones</a></td></tr>
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<span style="font-family: "helvetica neue" , "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">For those of you who do not know what a tuning fork is, it is a </span><span style="background-color: white; font-family: "helvetica neue" , "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">two-pronged fork made of elastic metal. When stuck against a surface it vibrates and makes a high pitched sound that moves onto becoming a smooth musical tone.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "helvetica neue" , "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">So why would a father teach his children about a tool used to check hearing loss or tune musical instruments? It wasn't the use of the tool but what the tool did, </span><span style="font-family: "helvetica neue" , "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">how it moved, </span><span style="font-family: "helvetica neue" , "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">that he told us about. To much giggles and rolling of eyes.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "helvetica neue" , "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">Whenever we pushed him to do something or took advantage of his fun-loving nature, Anna would tell us, in a mock severe voice, "You are taking undue advantage of your father!". </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "helvetica neue" , "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">He would then pause, and go on to say,"We could never take advantage of our father like this. When ever we were summoned to stand in front of him, we shivered like tuning forks!" Their bones and insides trembling & shivering at a high frequency, while they looked calm on the outside. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "helvetica neue" , "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">We heard this so many times that the term "shivering like a tuning fork" meant the same as "shaking in your boots". Of the two, </span><span style="font-family: "helvetica neue" , "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">"shivering like a tuning fork" is the phrase I like. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "helvetica neue" , "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">It's personal. It's real. It's a part of my childhood. A part of me.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "helvetica neue" , "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">So it shouldn't seem strange that on this Father's Day, when I remember my father, I remember one of the many strange things he taught me. And "shivering like a tuning fork" is one of the strangest. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "helvetica neue" , "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">Here's to all the strange, fun loving father's out there.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "helvetica neue" , "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">Have a great father's day!</span></div>
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Sanghttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01972610394051964785noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3996292420517555335.post-84444358521656078352017-12-26T11:46:00.001+05:302017-12-26T11:46:24.421+05:30The day I dreaded and looked forward to....<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="color: #38761d; font-size: x-small;">Anna on 27th Nov 2017</span></td></tr>
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4<sup><u>th</u></sup> Dec 2017 11:05 am. Anna is declared dead.<br />
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Though, I knew the day was
coming, and Anna & I had prepared ourselves for end-of-life, I wasn't really ready for it.</div>
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When I became my father's sole caregiver, I researched, in greater depth, end-of-life events for someone with Parkinson's. I learned that no one dies <i><u>of</u></i> Parkinson's disease, they die <u><i>with</i> </u>Parkinson's disease. Major causes of death are aspiration pneumonia & other pulmonary infections, inability to swallow, and falls.<br />
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I discussed these end-of-life events with Anna. He knew them all, for he had researched them way before I had! He was clear about what he wanted and did not want. He wanted to die earlier than later. He did not want any cardio-pulmonary resuscitation. He wanted no tubes to keep him alive - no ventilator, no feeding tube. No what he called, "artificial and invasive ways to keep me alive." </div>
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So I expected the worst. I knew Anna was dying. I was prepared / preparing for the long haul of managing a bedridden Anna. Possibly one who would need to be in a hospice for a period of time. An Anna that I would have to see struggle for every breath or starve to death.<br />
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And in the end, thankfully, his heart just gave up.</div>
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My family, friends, and readers have asked how Anna passed away. They want the details. Before I give the details, let me tell you about a "play-rewind-play" dream that robbed my sleep for over 3 weeks before Anna died.</div>
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I would dream every night. Dream that I get a call from one of the attendants to tell me that Anna is seriously ill, and I need to come over post haste. In my dream, I rush out of the house. I walk a few meters towards Anna's house. I look down and see that I am wearing my pajamas. Mentally I admonish myself. I can't walk outside my house in my pajamas! </div>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="color: #38761d; font-size: x-small;">Wearing my trousers and keds.</span><br />
<span style="color: #38761d; font-size: x-small;">I think I am probably the only </span><span style="color: #38761d; font-size: x-small;">person who </span><br />
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The dream rewinds and restarts with the call. This time, I change into trousers. And walk a few meters ahead of the last time in the dream. I look down at my feet and see I am wearing rubber chappals. Not the right footwear to take Anna to Emergency! </div>
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The dream rewinds and restarts with the call. This time, I change into trousers and <a href="https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Keds_(shoes)" target="_blank">keds</a>. Again, as I reach a little ahead of where I was in the earlier play of the dream, I realize that if this is really an emergency then I should be taking the car.<br />
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The dream rewinds and restarts with the call. This time I wear my trousers & keds, and take the car.<br />
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This rewind and replay dream continues with one additional practical observation and event added each time - grabbing an extra shawl, checking to see if I have enough money in my wallet, carrying Anna's medical files bag & his hospital go-to bag, and so on. Sometimes I reach his house to find that he has passed away, sometimes I drive Anna to the hospital.<br />
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3 weeks of this, and I am just tired.<br />
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Then on 4th December morning, I am just about to have a shower, when I get a call from Alex (Anna's household help). He tells me that I need to come immediately. I hear voices in the background shouting "Anna!.....Anna!". I ask him what's happened. He tells me that Anna suddenly opened his eyes and his breathing is ragged and shallow. I quickly change into trousers, keds, check my wallet, grab a shawl, and drive down to his place.<br />
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When I reach there, they are still shouting "Anna!.....Anna!". He is sitting on a chair, slumped to the left. I see a sheen of white on his lips. I call out to him but get no response. I try to take his pulse at his wrist and his neck. I put my fingers under his nose to feel for his breath. My hands are shaking so much that I can't feel a thing! Subconsciously I know that his is going or gone, but my protective instincts have taken over.<br />
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I tell the attendant and Alex to put Anna into the wheelchair so that we can take him to the hospital. As they lift him into the wheelchair, he suddenly becomes limp. We wheel him to the car. Four of us try, with little success, to get Anna into the rear seat of the car, until finally, the attendant lifts him into both his arms so that Anna is sitting on his lap like a child.<br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="color: #38761d; font-size: xx-small;">Photo courtesy: www.bbc.com/news/health-19989167</span></td></tr>
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As I drive to the hospital, I ask the attendant if Anna is breathing. He says, "No". It takes me over 15 mins to get to the hospital with what I think is my dead father in the rear seat of my car. I hold the steering wheel hard and blindly follow my mental chant, "Breathe deeply and drive". Over and over again.<br />
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At the hospital, Anna is loaded onto a stretcher and rushed into Emergency. Four nurses and a doctor do a vital stats check and start emergency medical care. I hear a nurse tell the doctor that the oxygen (administered thru his nostrils) is coming out of his mouth.<br />
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That's when the tears start to fall. That is when my brain understands, really understands, that Anna is no more. My heart already knew.<br />
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In the end, his heart just gave up. It strikes me as odd, that I never realized that a disease that impairs muscular movement, could affect, would affect, the strongest muscle in the human body, the human heart. Thankfully it did. Swiftly and efficiently.</div>
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Sanghttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01972610394051964785noreply@blogger.com22tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3996292420517555335.post-33424482042756652932017-10-20T23:07:00.001+05:302017-10-21T14:42:44.336+05:30Anna's Story of Deepawali<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="background-color: white; color: #783f04;">Anna on one of the days when he is zoned out!</span></td></tr>
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<span style="font-family: "helvetica neue" , "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif; font-size: large;"><span style="background-color: white; color: #222222;">My dilemma over <a href="http://parablesofparkinsons.blogspot.in/2017/10/i-dont-want-green-deepawali.html" target="_blank">whether or not to burn crackers</a> was easily solved. Anna was so zoned-out on 18th and 19th Oct that there were no patakas (fireworks), or for that matter, mithai (Indian sweets), or lighting diyas (lamps), or just about anything that needed the tiniest of movements or use of brain cells. Quite a dampener!</span></span><br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj2Jyov-1NaRKlVPytnAEVIhKfB7P7btOV9ERxoBInt06KssdDRGVU3gYujsOXK6xZNLtmqF4rfbAPpPvAypHgE9aQYGxgCIL7iasuyc1FUcPPl_-Zo8VIjVKXm0nZEywfiYJCI_2dANJo/s1600/Diwali+Diyas.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="background-color: white; clear: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: justify;"><img border="0" data-original-height="664" data-original-width="789" height="336" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj2Jyov-1NaRKlVPytnAEVIhKfB7P7btOV9ERxoBInt06KssdDRGVU3gYujsOXK6xZNLtmqF4rfbAPpPvAypHgE9aQYGxgCIL7iasuyc1FUcPPl_-Zo8VIjVKXm0nZEywfiYJCI_2dANJo/s400/Diwali+Diyas.JPG" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="background-color: white; color: #783f04;">Amma's brass pooja diyas, were lit on all auspicious occasions</span></td></tr>
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<span style="font-family: "helvetica neue" , "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif; font-size: large;">Many years ago, I had asked Anna why South Indians celebrated Deepawali a day earlier. He promptly told me to ask Amma, deflecting yet another question he didn't want to answer or did not know the answer to. Over the years, I have asked Anna this question in the days running up to Deepawali. </span><span style="font-family: "helvetica neue" , "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif; font-size: large;">One year </span><span style="font-family: "helvetica neue" , "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif; font-size: large;">I came up with the hypothesis that Lord Rama reached South India before North India when he flew f</span><span style="font-family: "helvetica neue" , "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif; font-size: large;">rom Lanka, and hence Deepawali was celebrated a day earlier than in the north! This story amused Anna no end!! </span></span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "helvetica neue" , "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif; font-size: large;"><span style="background-color: white; color: #444444;">Almost every year, I ask Anna the same question and when I don't get a response, I retell my hypothesis on how Rama reached South India before the north, much to his amusement.</span></span></div>
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<span style="background-color: white; color: #444444; font-family: "helvetica neue" , "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif; font-size: large;">Last year, after possibly 40 years, he tells me why.</span></div>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjAf8X9uX08ir2NbP3jgIJCzkUYL5qSNYReObY7IKYUxMngSDpkVQD6ZXeZBA3Qq72ujlLAERoP3Q3c1vycB3ezDucO_VM8k_LS1myi2h0Gk30dG6LISyFIbsHYayTiBRHlhkgYcgWXrqU/s1600/An+effigy+of+Naakasura+by+Gouthami.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="background-color: white; clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="360" data-original-width="480" height="480" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjAf8X9uX08ir2NbP3jgIJCzkUYL5qSNYReObY7IKYUxMngSDpkVQD6ZXeZBA3Qq72ujlLAERoP3Q3c1vycB3ezDucO_VM8k_LS1myi2h0Gk30dG6LISyFIbsHYayTiBRHlhkgYcgWXrqU/s640/An+effigy+of+Naakasura+by+Gouthami.jpg" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="background-color: white; color: #783f04;">An effigy of Narakasura. Picture by Gouthami</span></td></tr>
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<span style="background-color: white;"><span style="color: #0b5394;"><span style="font-family: "helvetica neue" , "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif; font-size: large; text-align: justify;"><br /><span style="color: #222222;">Anna: </span><i style="color: #0b5394;">Deepawali is on Narakasura Chatrurdasi. The day Krishna and Satyabhama, in a joint venture, defeated the demon Narakasura and released 16,000 women Narakasura </i></span><span style="color: #0b5394; font-family: "helvetica neue" , "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif; font-size: large; font-style: italic; text-align: justify;">kept in captivity.</span></span><span style="color: #222222; font-family: "helvetica neue" , "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif; font-size: large; text-align: justify;"> </span></span></div>
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<span style="color: #222222; font-family: "helvetica neue" , "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif; font-size: large;"><span style="background-color: white;">Really? Krishna and Satyabhama in a joint venture?? I didn't know.</span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "helvetica neue" , "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif; font-size: large;"><span style="background-color: white;"><span style="color: #0b5394;"><span style="color: #222222;">Anna:</span><span style="color: #222222;"> </span><i style="color: #0b5394;">Vishnu is more revered in South India than Rama.</i></span><span style="color: #222222;"> </span></span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "helvetica neue" , "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif; font-size: large;"><span style="background-color: white; color: #222222;"><br /></span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "helvetica neue" , "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif; font-size: large;"><span style="background-color: white; color: #222222;">I am confused. I thought that Lord Rama was an avatar of Lord Vishnu. But I keep quiet, 'coz I want to hear the rest of the story.</span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "helvetica neue" , "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif; font-size: large;"><span style="background-color: white; color: #222222;"><br /></span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "helvetica neue" , "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif; font-size: large; text-align: justify;"><span style="color: #0b5394;"><span style="background-color: white; color: #0b5394;"><span style="color: #222222;">Anna:</span><span style="color: #222222;"> </span><i>Rama is seen as human, with many human faults and needs.</i></span></span></span></div>
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<span style="background-color: white; color: #222222; font-family: "helvetica neue" , "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif; font-size: large; text-align: justify;">Pause.</span></div>
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<span style="background-color: white; color: #222222; font-family: "helvetica neue" , "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif; font-size: large; text-align: justify;"><br /></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "helvetica neue" , "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif; font-size: large; text-align: justify;"><span style="color: #0b5394;"><span style="background-color: white;"><span style="color: #222222;">Anna:</span><span style="color: #222222;"> </span></span><i style="background-color: white; color: #0b5394;">You will like this story. It is about female strength.</i></span></span></div>
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<span style="background-color: white; color: #222222; font-family: "helvetica neue" , "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif; font-size: large; text-align: justify;">Pause.</span></div>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjwjxbYgIzuwJcTqENoK_ebuJkzWdT9igFI9iX9_eU6AWXZA5c6rPSWnJj4AvKa4K_V-v4q23UvFCYjC_g2l_lUkRX-SksLDiyxzL2AakhtX8nuhZhJp1B2VUmy43bpz3GebfAzvHzCIHg/s1600/shri_krishna_slaying_narakasura.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="background-color: white; clear: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="267" data-original-width="400" height="212" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjwjxbYgIzuwJcTqENoK_ebuJkzWdT9igFI9iX9_eU6AWXZA5c6rPSWnJj4AvKa4K_V-v4q23UvFCYjC_g2l_lUkRX-SksLDiyxzL2AakhtX8nuhZhJp1B2VUmy43bpz3GebfAzvHzCIHg/s320/shri_krishna_slaying_narakasura.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="background-color: white;"><span style="color: #783f04;">Oddly, most images I find online show Krishna</span></span><br />
<span style="background-color: white;"><span style="color: #783f04;">killing Narakasura,</span></span><br />
<span style="background-color: white;"><span style="color: #783f04;">when according to most stories I read,</span></span><br />
<span style="background-color: white;"><span style="color: #783f04;"> it was Satyabhama who killed Narakasura. Gender bias?</span> </span></td></tr>
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<span style="font-family: "helvetica neue" , "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif; font-size: large; text-align: justify;"><span style="color: #0b5394;"><span style="background-color: white;"><span style="color: #222222;">Anna:</span><span style="color: #222222;"> </span></span><i style="background-color: white; color: #0b5394;">Actually, it was Satyabhama who killed Narakasura. Krishna fainted after being hit by Narakasura's weapon 'Shakti'. Satyabhama was so shocked seeing Krishna fall, that she flung her weapon with immense strength, killing Narakasura.</i></span></span></div>
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<span style="text-align: justify;"><span style="background-color: white; color: #222222; font-family: "helvetica neue" , "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif; font-size: large;">Pause.</span></span></div>
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<span style="text-align: justify;"><span style="background-color: white; color: #222222; font-family: "helvetica neue" , "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif; font-size: large;"><br /></span></span></div>
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<span style="text-align: justify;"><span style="color: #0b5394; font-family: "helvetica neue" , "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif; font-size: large;"><span style="background-color: white;"><span style="color: #222222;">Anna:</span><span style="color: #222222;"> </span></span><i style="background-color: white; color: #0b5394;">Narakasura while asking to be forgiven for his wayward ways, asked that his death be celebrated by lighting diyas.</i></span></span></div>
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<span style="text-align: justify;"><span style="background-color: white; color: #222222; font-family: "helvetica neue" , "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif; font-size: large;"><br /></span></span></div>
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<span style="text-align: justify;"><span style="background-color: white; color: #222222; font-family: "helvetica neue" , "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif; font-size: large;">I remember this story, as I sadly watch Anna sleep past his favorite festival. </span></span></div>
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<span style="text-align: justify;"><span style="background-color: white; color: #222222; font-family: "helvetica neue" , "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif; font-size: large;">Today he is a little awake, so we celebrate by lighting diyas and eating mithai. </span></span></div>
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<span style="text-align: justify;"><span style="background-color: white; color: #222222; font-family: "helvetica neue" , "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif; font-size: large;"><br /></span></span></div>
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<span style="background-color: white; text-align: justify;"><span style="color: #222222; font-family: "helvetica neue" , "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif; font-size: large;">Me: </span><span style="color: #0b5394; font-family: "helvetica neue" , "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif; font-size: large;"><i style="color: #0b5394;">Anna, do you remember that yesterday was Deepawali? </i>Pause. <i style="color: #0b5394;">We did not burn any crackers yesterday, as you were asleep.</i></span></span></div>
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<span style="text-align: justify;"><span style="background-color: white; font-family: "helvetica neue" , "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif; font-size: large;"><span style="color: #0b5394;"><span style="color: #222222;">Anna:</span><span style="color: #222222;"> </span><i>We can do it now.</i></span></span></span></div>
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<span style="text-align: justify;"><span style="background-color: white; color: #222222; font-family: "helvetica neue" , "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif; font-size: large;"><br /></span></span></div>
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<span style="background-color: white;"><span style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: "helvetica neue" , "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif; font-size: large;"><span style="color: #222222;">Me ( pointing to the TV that is reporting unprecedented pollution levels across the country): </span><i><span style="color: #0b5394;">Anna, it is way too polluted! Lets wait till the pollution levels are better. </span></i></span></span><span style="color: #222222; font-family: "helvetica neue" , "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif; font-size: large; text-align: justify;">Which basically means, never!</span></span></div>
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<span style="background-color: white; text-align: justify;"><span style="color: #222222; font-family: "helvetica neue" , "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif; font-size: large;">Anna: </span><span style="color: #0b5394; font-family: "helvetica neue" , "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif; font-size: large;"><i>That will be better. Any day you think is right, we will celebrate Deepawali.</i></span></span></div>
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<span style="text-align: justify;"><span style="background-color: white; color: #222222; font-family: "helvetica neue" , "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif; font-size: large;">He twitches out a smile and closes his eyes.</span></span></div>
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Sanghttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01972610394051964785noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3996292420517555335.post-91603730692410675062017-10-12T20:37:00.001+05:302017-10-12T20:48:11.652+05:30I Don't Want A Green Deepawali<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjrgB1aSoEd5SEEaUdqViu1g8y0ROTvk2MCPAkIiUO-BlVmXwIbvRlVB41Xm95ITG-WLEl3iVoSfckxZsTd5-dyvROBDcFM5xT0efzDqhx2Jvl9ImbgSMG8IIilsF62m0Ant6q5iVHlzOs/s1600/Anna+1Oct+2017+at+Neptune+when+he+is+told+he+is+going+home.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><br /><img border="0" data-original-height="1600" data-original-width="1200" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjrgB1aSoEd5SEEaUdqViu1g8y0ROTvk2MCPAkIiUO-BlVmXwIbvRlVB41Xm95ITG-WLEl3iVoSfckxZsTd5-dyvROBDcFM5xT0efzDqhx2Jvl9ImbgSMG8IIilsF62m0Ant6q5iVHlzOs/s320/Anna+1Oct+2017+at+Neptune+when+he+is+told+he+is+going+home.jpg" width="240" /></a><br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="color: #990000;">I tell Anna that we can take him home<br />from Neptune Hospital on 1st Oct 2017.<br />He is pleased.</span></td></tr>
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<span style="color: #1d2129; font-family: "helvetica neue" , "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif; font-size: large;"><br />I don't want a green Deepawali. Yet I want a reduction in air pollution. I am conflicted and am finding it hard to choose a side.</span><br />
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<span style="font-size: large;"><span style="background-color: white; color: #1d2129; font-family: "helvetica neue" , "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">I truly, truly believe, and have advocated for, </span><a href="http://sangsramblings.blogspot.in/2015/12/simple-suggestions-to-reduce-delhis.html" style="background-color: white; font-family: "helvetica neue", arial, helvetica, sans-serif;" target="_blank">more stringent controls to improve the quality of air</a><span style="background-color: white; color: #1d2129; font-family: "helvetica neue" , "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">. </span></span><br />
<span style="background-color: white; color: #1d2129; font-family: "helvetica neue" , "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span></span>
<span style="background-color: white; color: #1d2129; font-family: "helvetica neue" , "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: large;">I have to weigh the destruction of the environment, with wanting to give my father, my dying father, something that will surface pleasant memories. Pleasant memories, that I hope, </span></span><span style="background-color: white; color: #1d2129; font-family: "helvetica neue" , "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: large;">have the strength to sweep Dementia fog away. It's al</span></span><span style="background-color: white; color: #1d2129; font-family: "helvetica neue" , "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif; font-size: large;">l the more important now that he has just returned from hospital.</span></div>
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<span style="background-color: white;"><span style="color: #1d2129; font-family: "helvetica neue" , "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif; font-size: large;">Anna was discharged from hospital on 2nd Oct. He had a severe bronchial infection, that galloped from a slight fever to a compromised lung & wheezing in just 24 hours. It was so bad that I could hear him struggling to breathe from the front door. Thankfully, he spent only 8 days in hospital, all but 1 day, zoned out and unresponsive. He's back home now, 5 kgs less, stiff as a board, not eating much, and speaking about 10 cog</span><span style="color: #1d2129; font-family: "helvetica neue" , "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif; font-size: large;">ent words in a day.</span></span><br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj2hmblldeTJjz-np2KVV8THaOejsbN0FRymmdphpRi-KHiAQ21yABEbUv-fi05DyEy8uWka2uKBUNCoBETeRCeSReVVhJQnbLnJEk49cFdWVw3LrAGwsamBlJY6yeY4OmtOHvBNXYxscc/s1600/IMG_1591_01.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1600" data-original-width="920" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj2hmblldeTJjz-np2KVV8THaOejsbN0FRymmdphpRi-KHiAQ21yABEbUv-fi05DyEy8uWka2uKBUNCoBETeRCeSReVVhJQnbLnJEk49cFdWVw3LrAGwsamBlJY6yeY4OmtOHvBNXYxscc/s400/IMG_1591_01.jpg" width="230" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="color: #990000;">Anna in happier times</span></td></tr>
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<span style="background-color: white;"><span style="color: #1d2129; font-family: "helvetica neue" , "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif; font-size: large;">Each illness sets Anna back so much that I wonder whether he will ever recover and be his old self. Whatever that old self is, for it is not the vibrant, laughing man he was, before Parkinson's and Dementia kidnapped him in front of our eyes.</span></span><br />
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<span style="background-color: white;"><span style="color: #1d2129; font-family: "helvetica neue" , "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif; font-size: large;">Now, when Anna responds to me, I feel good. Tho' 10 softly spoken words are not much, it's better than nothing. I think he is looking sad, but he hasn't said anything. What worries me is that he wants to say something but can't. It's terrible. Just imagining it frightens me. It can only be worse, much worse, for Anna.</span></span><br />
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<span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-family: "helvetica neue" , "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;"><span style="background-color: white; color: #1d2129;">I decide to pep Anna up by telling him that Deepawali is around the corner. </span></span><span style="background-color: white; color: #1d2129; font-family: "helvetica neue" , "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">Deepawali has a special place in Anna's heart.</span><span style="background-color: white; color: #1d2129; font-family: "helvetica neue" , "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;"> </span></span><br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh2lh0yvGTAy2IYkrBzB6_286Wg_ZoBRReyEDgGN4woEvw7geTl6Y-p3z835fdD7e-ygdM2NcCxV1QjMqlGSbnpwsqbsULY2s3i628P4Hx8HJPHCpUarqtsTaPdq8VBptsogaAiJMCpp8Q/s1600/Diwali+Lamp.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="373" data-original-width="492" height="242" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh2lh0yvGTAy2IYkrBzB6_286Wg_ZoBRReyEDgGN4woEvw7geTl6Y-p3z835fdD7e-ygdM2NcCxV1QjMqlGSbnpwsqbsULY2s3i628P4Hx8HJPHCpUarqtsTaPdq8VBptsogaAiJMCpp8Q/s320/Diwali+Lamp.JPG" width="320" /></a></div>
<span style="background-color: white; color: #1d2129; font-family: "helvetica neue" , "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: large;">First because of the lights. For days before Deepawali, we wheel Anna around the colony so that he can look at all the houses, bedecked with strings of lights - straight lights, dancing lights, bling lights, <span style="background-attachment: initial; background-clip: initial; background-image: initial; background-origin: initial; background-position: initial; background-repeat: initial; background-size: initial; font-family: Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 18pt; line-height: 107%;">reflecting </span>globes, strobe lights. Each house uniquely lit up and wanting to show-off a part of their owners' soul.</span></span><br />
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<span style="font-size: large;"><span style="background-color: white;"><span style="color: #1d2129; font-family: "helvetica neue" , "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">The second reason Anna loves Deepawali is because of the simple, childlike excitement of lighting crackers. Last year, like a little boy, Anna asked me twice a day, every day, for a month, when Deepawali was! </span></span><span style="background-color: white; color: #1d2129; font-family: "helvetica neue" , "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">He told me about how he and his brother </span><a href="http://parablesofparkinsons.blogspot.in/2016/11/firecrackers-in-annas-childhood.html" style="font-family: "helvetica neue", arial, helvetica, sans-serif;" target="_blank">made firecrackers in their childhood</a><span style="background-color: white; color: #1d2129; font-family: "helvetica neue" , "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">. This year there are going to be no stories. There are going to be little or no crackers given the Supreme Court's ban on the sale of crackers in Delhi.</span></span><br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiy63u7eRKoJopFWqOFmozzPJBPLxP_tKtbhUcQSqKGl41LJ3xJMBYghFJq1cwDB_FI7QMLrzImU7trALhdjUx3rLWTvQAyhlJx7QFFEu3Ch2-3zfXnfpSbDWsQMeENCdYjL7G_cnjhu7I/s1600/Vishnu+chakra.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="548" data-original-width="800" height="219" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiy63u7eRKoJopFWqOFmozzPJBPLxP_tKtbhUcQSqKGl41LJ3xJMBYghFJq1cwDB_FI7QMLrzImU7trALhdjUx3rLWTvQAyhlJx7QFFEu3Ch2-3zfXnfpSbDWsQMeENCdYjL7G_cnjhu7I/s320/Vishnu+chakra.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="color: #990000;">Anna's favorite Vishnu Chakhra</span></td></tr>
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<span style="color: #1d2129; font-family: "helvetica neue" , "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif; font-size: large;">I know we want to reduce the amount of pollution that will blanket the city. The pollution that will make our eyes water and throats dry. A living pollution that is killing us, inside out. </span><br />
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<span style="color: #1d2129; font-family: "helvetica neue" , "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif; font-size: large;">But, Anna has a few pleasures in life and a few years to live. Maybe just a year. Is it really so bad for me to want to light 6 sparklers, 4 chakras and 4 flower pots to cheer him up? I have crackers left over from last year, and lighting them will just add a <span style="color: #222222;">soupçon</span> of pollution. </span><br />
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<span style="color: #1d2129; font-family: "helvetica neue" , "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif; font-size: large;">I really want to burn crackers for Anna. </span><br />
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<span style="color: #1d2129; font-family: "helvetica neue" , "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif; font-size: large;">But can I, in good conscience, given our air pollution problem? </span><br />
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<span style="color: #1d2129; font-family: "helvetica neue" , "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif; font-size: large;">Should I? </span><br />
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<span style="color: #1d2129; font-family: "helvetica neue" , "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif; font-size: large;">Will I? </span><br />
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Sanghttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01972610394051964785noreply@blogger.com5tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3996292420517555335.post-44113251512643541022017-09-30T16:43:00.001+05:302017-09-30T16:43:11.802+05:30Sibling Fights<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg4EiEI4TkZjJ0SX9AIHPFjKupvRaVuFpwJPFsw4QdCiNNvq0XGvE5cRHPNikCeLfvVmIH-VY-ICEC05ljpJPPeMQXFinRtknyKEMoe85kyPXVFparlbnQK-GiOV_9ZB5lLZyk2TKfqQg4/s1600/Natasha+and+Rohan+2in1.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="454" data-original-width="631" height="229" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg4EiEI4TkZjJ0SX9AIHPFjKupvRaVuFpwJPFsw4QdCiNNvq0XGvE5cRHPNikCeLfvVmIH-VY-ICEC05ljpJPPeMQXFinRtknyKEMoe85kyPXVFparlbnQK-GiOV_9ZB5lLZyk2TKfqQg4/s320/Natasha+and+Rohan+2in1.JPG" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="color: #741b47;">Anil's kids play at Anna's house <br />while their mother sweeps and swabs the floors</span></td></tr>
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One morning, Anil, our major domo, regaled us with stories of how his kids are constantly fighting. He was looking at Sanjiv to give him some advice. Advice on how to prevent kids from fighting. From an only child??!! Nah! That was not going to be any good, so I shoo-ed Sanjiv away and told Anil, "Brothers and sisters will fight all their lives. There is no solution."</div>
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I further told him that siblings will fight well into adulthood. Actually, they never end. Some turn violent (ref our Mughal kings), some result in siblings not talking for years (like Anna and Padukaka), some are yelling matches, some involve a truckload of backbiting.</div>
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Being philosophical, I tell him that sibling fights happen in all households. All households have stories of legendary fights. Here is the most famous one from Anna's childhood. Anna was not personally involved in this one, but it is so ingrained in my brain with his childhood, that I simply have to tell it. One that we still mention and laugh about at large family gatherings.<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiujRL2fqNBA54GGJlrTdY-0wNOKQgChQIzaMWah-M-qPvU1fA9EHdS_q3a_rf7lmFtP7BT8Nqeqn17pQTgn4SpLO49EMVIJ-ViBjHVKkE0uSkumnCzbNX7h3IZEbixhc5lDbEOgL4qFDI/s1600/Brushed_wool_scarf_muffler.png" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="209" data-original-width="250" height="166" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiujRL2fqNBA54GGJlrTdY-0wNOKQgChQIzaMWah-M-qPvU1fA9EHdS_q3a_rf7lmFtP7BT8Nqeqn17pQTgn4SpLO49EMVIJ-ViBjHVKkE0uSkumnCzbNX7h3IZEbixhc5lDbEOgL4qFDI/s200/Brushed_wool_scarf_muffler.png" width="200" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="color: #a64d79;">Photo Courtesy: <a href="https://www.nordicstore.net/" target="_blank">Nordic Store Iceland</a></span></td></tr>
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When Anna's brothers (Padukaka and Krishnakaka) were quite young, perhaps in their early teens, a relative gifted the boys a muffler (woolen scarf). One may naturally ask, "Why would someone gift a solitary muffler to two boys?", and "Why would someone gift a muffler to children who stay in a town where the temperature ranges from ~24°C to ~38°C?" No one really knows the answer to these questions other than that some well meaning adult gave a woolen muffler as a gift, with love and affection.</div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiFtZeUKzI0-tCvi0jX-hrMkTO1NHf-AkaY66y5biGJLcq15c8Rej9t40K7tq42-m9qMlSJtprKT_m82o5YgeGRPMC7kLZymbzDNFIXK2GXwZMGMIFd7fU7DPlhIxcHmlm0-LKUDXTLEJ0/s1600/brothers+fighting.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="630" data-original-width="657" height="306" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiFtZeUKzI0-tCvi0jX-hrMkTO1NHf-AkaY66y5biGJLcq15c8Rej9t40K7tq42-m9qMlSJtprKT_m82o5YgeGRPMC7kLZymbzDNFIXK2GXwZMGMIFd7fU7DPlhIxcHmlm0-LKUDXTLEJ0/s320/brothers+fighting.JPG" width="320" /></a></div>
That love and affection was not felt by the brothers. The issue that rose between the 2 brothers was not when would they wear the muffler, but who had ownership of the muffler. They fought over it for days. Each one claiming right based on any reason that they thought was a strong reason. Padukaka thought he should get it because he was older. Krishnakaka thought he should get it because he was younger. All types of criteria were used - height, weight, how well they did in school tests, who could eat more of what, or climb higher, or swim faster, or hold their breath longer. </div>
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My grandmother, Ajji, tried all she could to get them to share it, dividing days between them. Then weeks. Then she tried dividing it between them based on the hours in a day. Then tried weather conditions. But they would not listen. Each of the brothers' wanted absolute ownership and rights. This bitter and often loud fight ended when Ajji, got so frustrated that she cut the muffler in half and gave each boy a piece. Both got absolute ownership and rights over half a muffler.<br />
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When we fought as kids, we were warned to resolve the fight, else we would be left with nothing of use, like half a muffler. </div>
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Sanghttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01972610394051964785noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3996292420517555335.post-80744810716266858152017-09-07T09:54:00.000+05:302017-09-09T21:52:10.719+05:30When Life is a Bitch, What Else Can I Do But Laugh!..... Really??<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj6xUNPgEHwxNJBW8Ks-PAUkiACj5rZd6vweLWjsb0_fl3QmGLk39_OCP2rpM-PoCCZmz1QzjpEKaoIcEK9ibBmZZ8So5OTkL71NOeuFifI6-3Ni5OTf398JCbp-deGgsD0yIWu2G4XZgs/s1600/Caregivers-Special-Needs.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="568" data-original-width="736" height="307" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj6xUNPgEHwxNJBW8Ks-PAUkiACj5rZd6vweLWjsb0_fl3QmGLk39_OCP2rpM-PoCCZmz1QzjpEKaoIcEK9ibBmZZ8So5OTkL71NOeuFifI6-3Ni5OTf398JCbp-deGgsD0yIWu2G4XZgs/s400/Caregivers-Special-Needs.jpg" width="400" /></a></div>
That's right! "Try to laugh", that is. For life is a bitch. A real bitch! </div>
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Specially for caregivers, for whom the alternatives of crying or running away or changing the situation, do not exist. Often, cries for help are not made, or when made, are not heard or understood. Caregivers just have to learn that everyone believes their life is complicated and tough - taking on an additional responsibility or carving out time to help, is asking for a lot. </div>
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Want to know what its like? Here's a quick tour of my bitchy-life's last 5 months.</div>
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<u><span style="color: blue;">April 2017:</span></u> My father's major-domo, Tairas, goes on vacation for 3 weeks. I rearrange my life and work schedules to be Anna's major-domo for that period. 10 days later, Tairas calls to tell me he is not returning. A 21-day extra-work schedule turns into a 7 week extra-work grueling schedule. The new major-domo, Alex, arrives May 23rd. Somewhere in the middle, I battle an infection that leads the doctor to ask me to have a punch biopsy. I wonder when I will get the time to do this.</div>
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<u><span style="color: blue;">29th May 2017:</span></u> My father-in-law, Daddy, who is 92 years old, is diagnosed with <a href="https://www.cancer.org/cancer/acute-myeloid-leukemia.html" target="_blank">Acute Myeloid Leukemia</a>.</div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEinNmTMHDTMeMyqOI9AknzL1N7E44WLvrgkWgqY5vXUeifteObLpWS2IDi0LCCwnmbLJRXcHUyP_fjNzcfn1poh6Y8-nbieizMfvSs0_7831rvxuy9ZSJgFH36iJ1Uynjmr2P2uTQP0e5E/s1600/normal-blood-and-leukemic-blood+AML.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="613" data-original-width="1191" height="328" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEinNmTMHDTMeMyqOI9AknzL1N7E44WLvrgkWgqY5vXUeifteObLpWS2IDi0LCCwnmbLJRXcHUyP_fjNzcfn1poh6Y8-nbieizMfvSs0_7831rvxuy9ZSJgFH36iJ1Uynjmr2P2uTQP0e5E/s640/normal-blood-and-leukemic-blood+AML.JPG" width="640" /></a></div>
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<u><span style="color: blue;">June 2017:</span></u> We are told that Daddy has 3-6 months to live. Given his age and the progress of the disease, we decide that managing his symptoms and ensuring quality-of-life is more important. We have 2 hospital stays in a month - once via Emergency and once for a blood transfusion. Sanjiv, my husband, spends almost every waking moment caring for him. The tables are turned, as Anna is wheeled daily to meet my father-in-law.</div>
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<u><span style="color: blue;">July 2017:</span></u> Daddy is visibly deteriorating. On 14th, I am conducting a program in Gurgaon. At 3 pm, Sanjiv calls to tell me that Daddy passed away. The next 10 days are a blur of arrangements, people visiting, etc. End of the month, my mother-in-law, who is 82 years old, spends 5 days in hospital with acute gastroenteritis.</div>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEghI6iBdvK0y5YMTNFSxQEWv34zGgHenEXQfX0yIGjCaBtSWB9wvRZsw23NvZ8Dfiur4APHJO-ML_u8BVwlBMe7Kv74NZMt2b-7MirnffWkmDi9T2SzEMCY1VvtzoVD-Rj1qBuGZ15y3Vg/s1600/IMG_20170828_143847.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1200" data-original-width="1600" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEghI6iBdvK0y5YMTNFSxQEWv34zGgHenEXQfX0yIGjCaBtSWB9wvRZsw23NvZ8Dfiur4APHJO-ML_u8BVwlBMe7Kv74NZMt2b-7MirnffWkmDi9T2SzEMCY1VvtzoVD-Rj1qBuGZ15y3Vg/s320/IMG_20170828_143847.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="color: blue;">Sanjiv lies in the same hospital room as his mother;</span><br />
<span style="color: blue;"> separated by a few days</span><br />
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<u><span style="color: blue;">August 2017:</span></u> We rush my mother-in-law to emergency twice. She spends over 10 days in hospital, 5 in MICU. Acute gastroenteritis again. And again, I spend the days at the hospital while Sanjiv spends the nights. Finally, she is back on 19th. On 21st Sanjiv starts a fever that sends him to Emergency on 28th with Dengue. Somewhere in the middle of all this, I manage to get my punch biopsy and it is clear.</div>
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<u><span style="color: blue;">September 2017:</span></u> Sanjiv is released from hospital on 1st afternoon. That evening, my mother-in-law tells me she has bleeding piles. Off to the doctor I go again. By the time I am back home, I am literally teetering on my feet.</div>
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And thru all of this, Anna and his needs are the lowest in priority. Anna understands ~70% of why I can not be with him more often or spend time with him as I had before. For the 2nd time in over 3 years, I get angry with him and yell at him. And cry afterwards.</div>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiBqzZwDnXNw_kbF3WM-rwBw5h_q1x08TB9UxZg2FGBaHjcobO4bIuTRCtr3t3ZQDZGuYQQSW5Yvv09Yfq8md57e2OApggmYoi-TkC-OFeB2-5Arpkdg0fYdZDIuFnUsHufQUUM_LiE0M0/s1600/IMG-20150907-WA0001.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1200" data-original-width="1600" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiBqzZwDnXNw_kbF3WM-rwBw5h_q1x08TB9UxZg2FGBaHjcobO4bIuTRCtr3t3ZQDZGuYQQSW5Yvv09Yfq8md57e2OApggmYoi-TkC-OFeB2-5Arpkdg0fYdZDIuFnUsHufQUUM_LiE0M0/s320/IMG-20150907-WA0001.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="color: blue;">Sept 2015: I am so tired that I fall asleep, <br />while at a friends place, just after dinner</span><br />
<span style="color: blue;"><br /></span>
<span style="color: blue;"><br /></span></td></tr>
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During this time:</div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
</div>
<ul>
<li>Some family and friends do what they can to help. Offering vs being asked. And when asked for help, providing it and more, without hesitation. </li>
<li>Some are downright insensitive and uncaring. I hear every excuse in the book, from "I have work to do" to "everyone's life is complicated, yours isn't special". </li>
</ul>
<br />
<div style="text-align: justify;">
So what can I do but laugh? And wish that the helpers never have to be in my situation. And the uncaring brutes? That they go thru a part of what I have, to know, <b><u><i>really know</i></u></b>, how bad it can be. I hope that it will make them more empathetic. Am I being uncharitable, mean, selfish, and a bitch. Yes, I am. It feels right! </div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhK4E_f5MkeCPkZyBpP4PZrkmnLXBC2rMi0JDywY9eJebYrN7tQRq2C4iwtELUBENtFxuokXQu7g3dgdYeeLwUQzxOpLRVIF8cX2AilmwehUpbzMjojqUIY6Uk2PqkyYSZaueJ3GVLJKZk/s1600/Caregivers-Special-Needs-29.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="900" data-original-width="900" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhK4E_f5MkeCPkZyBpP4PZrkmnLXBC2rMi0JDywY9eJebYrN7tQRq2C4iwtELUBENtFxuokXQu7g3dgdYeeLwUQzxOpLRVIF8cX2AilmwehUpbzMjojqUIY6Uk2PqkyYSZaueJ3GVLJKZk/s400/Caregivers-Special-Needs-29.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><br />
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Chances are, that you know of at least one caregiver in your family / circle of friends. A parent or sibling, a cousin or an uncle / aunt, or a friend. You probably get a small view of their world when you visit them or call them (if you call at all!). That caregiver, is slowly dying without you knowing it. Worse still, is that they themselves aren't aware of parts of them that are dying. And dying they are. </div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
As you battle with the challenges of living a full life & leaving a legacy, your caregiver's battle is with death. The death of the patient. And their own death - the stresses of care-giving have been known to shave off 10 years from a caregiver's life.</div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
Few people can understand the stresses and strains of care-giving. Even caregivers themselves will tell you that their stint is unique and different from others. But you can make a difference, if you really care. Really. Care.</div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
</div>
<ol>
<li><i><span style="color: blue;">Give the caregiver a break.</span></i> Not a day or a week. Give them at least 3 weeks off where they can go somewhere and really wind-down. </li>
<li><i><span style="color: blue;">Know the patient and their care-giving requirements well</span></i> so that you can provide hospital stay relief when needed. A good night's sleep does wonders for a caregiver.</li>
<li><i><span style="color: blue;">Ask caregivers how they are. And listen.</span></i> Their health, both mental and physical is important, and they will ignore it. Help them improve their health. Take them to a doctor, commit to exercising with them regularly, take them for a movie or a meal. There are at least 50 things you can do to help.</li>
<li><i><span style="color: blue;">Commit to help. Be consistent.</span></i> Don't pull back after telling a caregiver that you are ready to help. That is cruel; like offering a drowning person a life jacket and then pulling it back when they reach for it.</li>
</ol>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<b><i><span style="color: blue;">If you care, then reach out to help a caregiver. Today!</span></i></b></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<b><i><span style="color: blue;"><br /></span><span style="color: blue;">'Coz laughing ain't gonna help.</span></i></b></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<b><i><span style="color: blue;"><br /></span><span style="color: blue;">And life is a bitch. A real bitch!</span></i></b><br />
<b><i><span style="color: blue;"><br /></span></i></b></div>
</div>
Sanghttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01972610394051964785noreply@blogger.com5tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3996292420517555335.post-81712954118309320172017-08-07T10:05:00.001+05:302017-08-07T10:05:59.071+05:30When the Lions Roamed Free<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiNW37ExDMY06KKggTkrkivJRTfjxgNeKLhaM9qumwNDKie_HkchJB95CtIhDc5N0sIflrtoW9Y1IyoWq-RxIO1ST6XhTrI5t7Udkv2GnghjfQRUiKIm18KZIn7K59MRLCprP9Wv_0WR8w/s1600/IMG_3153.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1200" data-original-width="1600" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiNW37ExDMY06KKggTkrkivJRTfjxgNeKLhaM9qumwNDKie_HkchJB95CtIhDc5N0sIflrtoW9Y1IyoWq-RxIO1ST6XhTrI5t7Udkv2GnghjfQRUiKIm18KZIn7K59MRLCprP9Wv_0WR8w/s400/IMG_3153.JPG" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="color: #38761d;">July 2017: Anna retells the story of lions roaming free to </span><br />
<span style="color: #38761d;">Ananya, my niece, and Mamta, my sister,'</span><br />
<span style="color: #38761d;">to much laughter and encouragement</span></td></tr>
</tbody></table>
A few months ago, Anna was quite the chatty Cathy for a few days. That is an oddity, given that most days he is quiet, only responding to direct questions. With his eyes closed. So, him being chatty is a treat. When I say chatty, I mean that that he could talk for 15 mins at a stretch without falling asleep or losing his train of thought. That's really chatty for him.<br />
<br />
Anna: <span style="color: #0b5394;"><i>Lions are majestic.</i></span><br />
<span style="color: #0b5394;"><br /></span>
Me (looking at the news, confused): <span style="color: #0b5394;"><i>What lions, Anna?</i></span><br />
<br />
Anna: <span style="color: #0b5394;"><i>The lions in Africa. They roam around freely.</i></span><br />
<br />
Me (I think he is referring to something he has seen on the National Geographic channel that he loves): <span style="color: #0b5394;"><i>Yes they do Anna. Specially in grasslands, and open forests.</i></span><br />
<br />
Anna: <span style="color: #0b5394;"><i>They roam freely amongst people. They don't harm the people at all.</i></span><br />
<br />
Me (wondering if this is a hallucination, or if he is telling me about a dream, or a story): <span style="color: #0b5394;"><i>Really, Anna?</i></span><br />
<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgYt1ZAU7S7IR6mDc9CIrIt18LvwgN4JZKaymyrIKO9EOOWzqXuCFIRxB1QZLA1HHyHtp6AtY0d4sNsXeh3dHg2aELB_-dQsFvZTBMzOtbtQG_gZGyUTb3DSgr7SOrdmpyqfbszTBFdZy0/s1600/Lion+Staircase+Bardo+Palace+Tunis+Photo+E+Selmaj.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1065" data-original-width="1600" height="266" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgYt1ZAU7S7IR6mDc9CIrIt18LvwgN4JZKaymyrIKO9EOOWzqXuCFIRxB1QZLA1HHyHtp6AtY0d4sNsXeh3dHg2aELB_-dQsFvZTBMzOtbtQG_gZGyUTb3DSgr7SOrdmpyqfbszTBFdZy0/s400/Lion+Staircase+Bardo+Palace+Tunis+Photo+E+Selmaj.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="color: #38761d;">Lion Staircase, Bardo Palace, Tunis<br />Photo Courtesy: <a href="https://commons.wikimedia.org/wiki/Commons:Wiki_Loves_Monuments_2015_in_Tunisia/Winning_photos" target="_blank">E. Selmaj</a></span></td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<div style="text-align: right;">
</div>
Anna: <span style="color: #0b5394;"><i>The stairs have lions on either side, too.</i></span><br />
<br />
I am totally confused, wondering what lions are doing roaming freely on either side of a staircase that people use.<br />
<br />
Me: <span style="color: #0b5394;"><i>What staircase, Anna? Where is this staircase?</i></span><br />
<br />
Anna: <span style="color: #0b5394;"><i>In Tunis. At the Palace. It is a beautiful staircase. The lions each have a different expression.</i></span><br />
<br />
Me: <span style="color: #0b5394;"><i>Anna, when did you go to Tunis?</i></span><br />
<br />
Anna: <span style="color: #0b5394;"><i>A few years ago.</i> </span>I think it's been over 30 years since Anna has been to Africa.<br />
<br />
Me: <span style="color: #0b5394;"><i>Anna, what were you doing in Tunis?</i></span><br />
<br />
Anna: <span style="color: #0b5394;"><i>I went to see Nagarajan.</i> </span><br />
Anna has known Uncle Nagarajan for ~70 years.<br />
<br />
Me: <span style="color: #0b5394;"><i>What was Uncle Nagarajan doing there?</i></span><br />
<br />
Anna: <span style="color: #0b5394;"><i>He was working at an oil refinery, in Algiers. The Americans had set up refineries and they needed technical people, so Nagarajan went.</i></span><br />
<br />
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgGsmFdwZcFOD7wmM2-MFB5Zeq73hPDihd38-tPsT0tZCteBEDbsParoXv6n7kb56b86pUOuCsL700C3gvKtElK1ga3HMs6ClpxKAflZ62onlLlclqckIzCQ-7o7pj36CHy3tJ8QU_Wub4/s1600/Distillation.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="789" data-original-width="864" height="365" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgGsmFdwZcFOD7wmM2-MFB5Zeq73hPDihd38-tPsT0tZCteBEDbsParoXv6n7kb56b86pUOuCsL700C3gvKtElK1ga3HMs6ClpxKAflZ62onlLlclqckIzCQ-7o7pj36CHy3tJ8QU_Wub4/s400/Distillation.JPG" width="400" /></a>Algiers? I thought we were in Tunisia at the Bardo Palace near where Uncle Nagarajan was working?! But now Anna had moved to Algeria in the blink of an eye.<br />
<br />
From what I can make out Anna saw lions in Tunis. Were they alive and roaming free or were they stone statues? I am confused. But that's kind-of becoming the norm for me - being confused and logical at the same time.<br />
<br />
Anna: <span style="color: #0b5394;"><i>One evening, while Nagarajan was working on the bubble cap columns, he saw movement from the corner of his eyes. He thought that it was a "herd" of dogs. But it wasn't. How could dogs all be the same color? When he asked the people around him, they shone their lights where there had been movement. That is when he saw them! The lions of Algiers. Roaming freely around the refinery.</i></span><br />
<br />
Me: <span style="color: #0b5394;"><i>Anna, wasn't Uncle scared? Wasn't it dangerous?</i></span><br />
<br />
Anna: <span style="color: #0b5394;"><i>No. It seems that it was quite normal for the lions to roam the refinery. The lions came and went as they pleased. More in the evening time when it was cool. </i></span>Pause. <i style="color: #0b5394;">They also roamed the village nearby.</i><br />
<br />
Me: <span style="color: #0b5394;"><i>The village nearby?</i></span><br />
<br />
Anna: <span style="color: #0b5394;"><i>Yes. We went there and met with the headman. When we asked him if he had seen the lions, he told us that the whole village had. The lions roamed freely between their huts. No one harmed them so they didn't harm the villagers.</i></span><br />
<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgQZOfLwO69Pnn8c69y3uFhi_prvQRaI6-o-i1EVJGAFdj1hQJMqQbLNqbnFuQHHpK1i91T_4gwOSbZysZrhIjtSF0KuoldT6C79WbarG_pHHbPJUgC1Hi1ydisRDFGGIWwZJZk9nZYDaw/s1600/Perrys+Handbook+all+editions.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="289" data-original-width="494" height="233" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgQZOfLwO69Pnn8c69y3uFhi_prvQRaI6-o-i1EVJGAFdj1hQJMqQbLNqbnFuQHHpK1i91T_4gwOSbZysZrhIjtSF0KuoldT6C79WbarG_pHHbPJUgC1Hi1ydisRDFGGIWwZJZk9nZYDaw/s400/Perrys+Handbook+all+editions.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="background-color: white;"><span style="color: #38761d; font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif; font-size: x-small;">All eight editions of Perry’s Chemical Engineers’ Handbook<br /><span style="filter: none !important; text-align: start;">Pub. Date</span><strong style="filter: none !important; text-align: start;">: </strong><span style="text-align: start;">2008, 1997, 1984, 1973, 1963, 1950, 1941, 1934 <br />The McGraw-Hill Companies, Inc.</span></span></span></td></tr>
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I am fascinated by this story and ask him questions about the location of the oilfield, bubble cap columns, the refining process. He answers all my questions, even advising me to read Perry's Handbook to understand the distillation process better!<br />
<br />
Me: <span style="color: #0b5394;"><i>Anna, did you see the lions roaming free in the oil refinery? Or the village?</i></span><br />
<br />
Anna: <span style="color: #0b5394;"><i>Unfortunately, no.</i></span><br />
<br />
Pause.<br />
<br />
Anna: <span style="color: #0b5394;"><i>You know, they don't need boundary walls for protection. Not for the refinery. Not for the village.</i> </span>Pause<span style="color: #0b5394;">. <i>The lions protect the refinery and the people. Roaming free.</i></span><br />
<br />
<div style="text-align: right;">
<span style="color: #38761d; font-size: x-small;">I have not verified this story with Uncle Nagarajan who is 91 or 92 years old.</span><br />
<span style="color: #38761d; font-size: x-small;">Anna has also narrated the story to my sister and niece.</span><br />
<span style="color: #38761d; font-size: x-small;">Pretty much word for word.</span><br />
<span style="color: #38761d; font-size: x-small;">I believe that this is a true story.</span></div>
<br /></div>
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Sanghttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01972610394051964785noreply@blogger.com7tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3996292420517555335.post-76796696366185646632017-07-27T17:28:00.000+05:302017-07-27T17:28:04.397+05:30The Changing Language of My Mother Tongue<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="color: #134f5c; font-size: x-small;">My father, Anna, can speak English, Kannada,<br />Tamil, Malayalam, & Hindi <br />with varying degrees of proficiency<br />Photo Courtesy: <a href="http://theodysseyonline.com/">theodysseyonline.com</a></span></td></tr>
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<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif; font-size: 12pt;">When people ask me, "What is your
mother tongue?", I say Kannada. But that is not true. If mother tongue
refers to the language I grew up speaking, then my mother tongue is English (I
duck to avoid the imaginary spears of anti-nationalism being flung at me as I write this!)<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif; font-size: 12pt;">My father was born and brought up in
Tamil Nadu and hence reads, writes, and speaks Tamil fluently. He learned
English in school, Malayalam when he was posted in Kerala, and Hindi, when he was required to pass a mandatory Hindi
test to get a Central Government job in the '50s / '60s.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif; font-size: 12pt;">My mother was born and brought up in Delhi and hence was fluent in Hindi.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif; font-size: 12pt;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif; font-size: 12pt;">As we are Kannadiga Madhwas, we all speak Kannada (me haltingly, often searching for words in desperation!) Most of the time, I speak with Anna in English, our primary language of communication.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif; font-size: 12pt;"><br /></span>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi0Ucg26ASIMFdKcBROtyDoMqJ2MKSPo0X0NdN4OYnP5NepEN6cntQliPE3T2JBSsqPuViYnspZdI9HFFJKDWIl7XfbOUeenPP4HfbZYrIdMq6C0QJ22K5QKFKqQnGC6jzrV6rqSaGbGbc/s1600/Amma+and+Anna.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="701" data-original-width="636" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi0Ucg26ASIMFdKcBROtyDoMqJ2MKSPo0X0NdN4OYnP5NepEN6cntQliPE3T2JBSsqPuViYnspZdI9HFFJKDWIl7XfbOUeenPP4HfbZYrIdMq6C0QJ22K5QKFKqQnGC6jzrV6rqSaGbGbc/s320/Amma+and+Anna.JPG" width="290" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="color: #134f5c;">My parents, sometime in the early 70s<br /></span></td></tr>
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<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif; font-size: 12pt;"><br /></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif; font-size: 12pt;">I learned Hindi only when I was 9 or 10
years old. Till then, Hindi was limited to the Bollywood songs my mother
listened to on the radio. At that time, we thought our father spoke great Hindi
(it sounded so much like the songs we heard!) We still laugh when we think of
how impressed we were when Anna said, "</span><span style="font-family: "nirmala ui" , sans-serif; font-size: 12pt;">कलम</span><span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif; font-size: 12pt;"> </span><span style="font-family: "nirmala ui" , sans-serif; font-size: 12pt;">में</span><span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif; font-size: 12pt;"> </span><span style="font-family: "nirmala ui" , sans-serif; font-size: 12pt;">स्याही</span><span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif; font-size: 12pt;"> </span><span style="font-family: "nirmala ui" , sans-serif; font-size: 12pt;">है</span><span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif; font-size: 12pt;">"
("There is ink in the pen") - his earliest recollection of learning
Hindi was not the alphabet but this sentence. It was only much, much later that
we realized that Anna's Hindi was South-Indian accented with a very limited
vocabulary.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif; font-size: 12pt;">Anna has a great sense of humor, and is
a master of the art of quick repartee. This is not just the pride of a
daughter, you are reading, but something you will hear from almost anyone who
meets him. Before Parkinson's Disease and Dementia stole his ability to be
quick and nimble with his words, Anna was the center of attraction wherever
he went. Whether the gathering spoke English, or Kannada, or Tamil, if you
heard laughter, you were sure to find my father holding court!</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif; font-size: 12pt;">Parkinson's Disease and Dementia, now
lets us experience only a small percentage of his wit and repartee (as you may
have gathered from my blog-stories at </span><span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif; font-size: 12.0pt;"><a href="http://parablesofparkinsons.blogspot.com/"><span style="color: blue; mso-bidi-font-family: Tahoma; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-fareast-language: EN-IN;">Parables of a Parkinson's Patient</span></a></span><span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif; font-size: 12pt;">). But it is still there, and it is still communication, whether in
English or Kannada or Tamil.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj0y14Lq0HRO-hVZNDZuATwNa-umZqcaeH0eJmVHFIDJj2BxnibxcA86cgaVt5sqNTYmM-FKRvLH39Em6TWnZd_M2feCPnOtH8XSV0aswovhNwExyuSWOqIC30oYNUY2Qc5E5A0v2MeHP4/s1600/20170710_122142.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="900" data-original-width="1600" height="180" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj0y14Lq0HRO-hVZNDZuATwNa-umZqcaeH0eJmVHFIDJj2BxnibxcA86cgaVt5sqNTYmM-FKRvLH39Em6TWnZd_M2feCPnOtH8XSV0aswovhNwExyuSWOqIC30oYNUY2Qc5E5A0v2MeHP4/s320/20170710_122142.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="color: #134f5c;">10 July 2017: One of Anna's "not all there" days</span></td></tr>
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<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif; font-size: 12pt;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif; font-size: 12pt;">Where once our language of
communication was words strung together in any which way we pleased, we now
often speak gestures and facial expressions. A language that involves more than
a </span><span style="background: white; color: #3b3e41; font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif; font-size: 12.0pt; letter-spacing: 0.7pt;">soupçon
of </span><span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif; font-size: 12pt;">detective work based on a long
relationship of shared experiences and oft-repeated stories.<o:p></o:p></span><br />
<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif; font-size: 12pt;"></span><br />
<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif; font-size: 12pt;"></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif; font-size: 12pt;">I now hear Anna tell me of his pain in
a frown, or his confusion in the wrinkled lines of his forehead. I see his
happiness in his toothless smile and his childlike excited chatter in the
twinkling of his eyes. I hear him struggling to find the right words in his tired frown and the slight upward movement of his pupils.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgIzER2vVvc64NLO1VfmQYRjiNt_-M936zZK40duQLEMGY2yVxMiY2DaeIv1lx7oE2cT6aIeDBmw95pKab8nnROT5B7V6sxKttJvmRpsSO8ig8wDfKQJEa6anitN0rp84PKriofhJ61AB0/s1600/At+Select+Citywalk+-+straightened.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="572" data-original-width="417" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgIzER2vVvc64NLO1VfmQYRjiNt_-M936zZK40duQLEMGY2yVxMiY2DaeIv1lx7oE2cT6aIeDBmw95pKab8nnROT5B7V6sxKttJvmRpsSO8ig8wDfKQJEa6anitN0rp84PKriofhJ61AB0/s320/At+Select+Citywalk+-+straightened.JPG" width="233" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><div style="font-size: 12.8px;">
<span style="color: #134f5c;"><span style="font-family: inherit; font-size: x-small;">We don't know them all<br />but<br />We owe them all</span></span></div>
<div style="font-size: 12.8px;">
<span style="color: #134f5c;"><span style="font-family: inherit; font-size: xx-small;">22 July 2017 at Saket Select Citywalk</span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif; font-size: 12pt;">I know he is asking for his head to be
scratched when he repeatedly tries to raise his fingers to his scalp. A half-raised
arm means he wants to wipe his nose or the drool from the side of his mouth. I
can now distinguish a Parkinson's-induced twitch of a hand from the gesture
that points to an object to ask what it is. I know he is stiff when I can see
his weakened muscles strain under his paper-thin skin. The slight shifting of
weight from one buttock to the other tells me that he wants his back rubbed or
scratched. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif; font-size: 12pt;">A lot of our language of communication
are these long-duration macro / micro-expressions. A language I have learned
without any formal training, and one that I am teaching his attendants.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif; font-size: 12pt;">This new language is not my mother
tongue but is starting to feel just as familiar.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif; font-size: 12pt;">There is no appropriate name for
this language - perhaps we can create one!<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif; font-size: 12pt;">Do you have any suggestions?<o:p></o:p></span><br />
<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif; font-size: 12pt;"><br /></span>
<div style="text-align: right;">
<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif; font-size: x-small;"><i><a href="https://www.thequint.com/bol/2017/07/27/my-father-has-parkinsons-disease-and-dementia-so-our-bol-is-often-facial-expressions-and-gestures-to-communicate" target="_blank">--First published in The Quint on 27 Jul 2017</a></i></span></div>
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Sanghttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01972610394051964785noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3996292420517555335.post-1305793818500580702017-06-17T10:09:00.000+05:302017-06-17T10:09:45.276+05:30Confessions of a Daughter<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh6GC_U9InL0sWKjqiuFwwg9jusa3_em59f43uLJ9tZ0e_RXPuDKzkraqvOSqtztX3lPNNLgWjoLpwwSwKAhsDthKv7reQBoFdMlWUPJeGkUN2-Yz4NZYUZWY5Tg2lCq6l6xFJwh4UUdi8/s1600/20170304_182139.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="900" data-original-width="1600" height="180" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh6GC_U9InL0sWKjqiuFwwg9jusa3_em59f43uLJ9tZ0e_RXPuDKzkraqvOSqtztX3lPNNLgWjoLpwwSwKAhsDthKv7reQBoFdMlWUPJeGkUN2-Yz4NZYUZWY5Tg2lCq6l6xFJwh4UUdi8/s320/20170304_182139.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="color: #38761d; font-size: x-small;">Feb 2017<br />Anna cranes his neck to see something on my phone :-)</span></td></tr>
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<span style="font-family: "arial" , sans-serif; font-size: 12pt;">Dear Anna,</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "arial" , sans-serif; font-size: 12.0pt;"><br /></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "arial" , sans-serif; font-size: 12.0pt;">This
Father's Day, I thought I would jazz it up a bit and write you a letter. I know
as a family we didn't really celebrate "days". The most we did on a
birthday or anniversary was to eat ice cream. No presents. No special dinners.
No flowers. After all, it was just another day. </span><span style="font-family: "arial" , sans-serif; font-size: 12pt;">But every now and then, I wish someone would throw me a surprise birthday party. Or give me a present, or send me flowers or take me out to dinner. Just like that. For the fun of it!</span></div>
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<br /></div>
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<span style="font-family: "arial" , sans-serif; font-size: 12.0pt;">So, Anna,
out of character and tradition, this year I am going to tell you things I have never told you
before. All in honor of Father's Day.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "arial" , sans-serif; font-size: 12.0pt;">I loved
that you were goofy with us when we were kids. The only father we knew of, who would <span style="color: windowtext; text-decoration-line: none;"><a href="http://parablesofparkinsons.blogspot.in/2016/02/making-daughters-hearts-strong.html" target="_blank">scare the the living daylights out of his daughters</a> for fun,</span> or read Asterix, or specially drive kilometers out of the way, so that we could experience a bumpy ride.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<br /></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg6BvPW3yHEChyUTMystuH1T4QzoVl4BOE4_XaRctrKICyFViySC6p1QgYfNEL2Lx_4LSGM3kgzUTo1W00LiROFCMfSkwGVrm7-MRzDgZVn4TM8aCi_VntLHkTiqwHWQv03pyruMI1z-yI/s1600/laughing+men+2.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1245" data-original-width="1600" height="155" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg6BvPW3yHEChyUTMystuH1T4QzoVl4BOE4_XaRctrKICyFViySC6p1QgYfNEL2Lx_4LSGM3kgzUTo1W00LiROFCMfSkwGVrm7-MRzDgZVn4TM8aCi_VntLHkTiqwHWQv03pyruMI1z-yI/s200/laughing+men+2.jpg" width="200" /></a><span style="font-family: "arial" , sans-serif; font-size: 12.0pt;">I was in
awe of your ability to crack a joke on any subject, and be the center of
attraction at any party, solely because of your wit. I was and am in awe. And definitely,
jealous.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: "arial" , sans-serif; font-size: 12pt;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: "arial" , sans-serif; font-size: 12pt;">I still remember that you called me aside and told me to stand up for myself, when my siblings stole my share of treats from the fridge. I did learn to stand up for myself. And now I often find myself in the corner of the underdog in a fight.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "arial" , sans-serif; font-size: 12.0pt;">
I still shake my head with disbelief that you think that "idiot" and "fool" are
curse words! You would admonish us gently with a "Don't use dirty
words!" when we did.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "arial" , sans-serif; font-size: 12pt;"><br /></span></div>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh34ZUJu8CvjXcsJ2X9UB6elYkCQ6ixPgREDYa4UKqBTmgNvGkpFxX3OTgTlra-ujFjADvGFbSoj1lqaXUwdHkPQDW1_pqDhBjOrX0b_HH4dj2ZCttsLToboajXlkcav8mLHDaFulsn5Vk/s1600/Hollywood_Walk_of_Fame.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="623" data-original-width="800" height="155" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh34ZUJu8CvjXcsJ2X9UB6elYkCQ6ixPgREDYa4UKqBTmgNvGkpFxX3OTgTlra-ujFjADvGFbSoj1lqaXUwdHkPQDW1_pqDhBjOrX0b_HH4dj2ZCttsLToboajXlkcav8mLHDaFulsn5Vk/s200/Hollywood_Walk_of_Fame.jpg" width="200" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="color: #38761d; font-size: x-small;">I do not know where the picture I dislike is!</span></td></tr>
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<span style="font-family: "arial" , sans-serif; font-size: 12pt;">I am
irritated that the photo of me that you like is a shot of me leaning against a lamp-post, sulking after being
rudely awakened from jet-lagged sleep. I was a child. And I had to lean against
a pillar, to sleep while pretending to be awake. Hollywood Boulevard be damned. Couldn't you
have liked one where I looked cute?</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "arial" , sans-serif; font-size: 12.0pt;">
I cringe with embarrassment when I recall how you would interrogate every boy I
introduced you too. No question was too personal. No relationship left undiscovered.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "arial" , sans-serif; font-size: 12.0pt;">I thank
you for the wonder of travel. Every home-country trip, we saw different countries and experienced different cultures. History came alive. Geography showed her beauty. I think I have little wings, invisible wings, under my feet, like you had.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg0XWHEmkp4WkJvH4e-IL8Utm_T6gCB-ikfM68NAp3-AJ77p-qWf46I2PQhSOJ-pACQcKt5KjridCDA2VdLAc0lXog6XiriTEF2EymrVggzOeNo8qfQ5f9YpKwxEDU9Stay4kCMygaH3xU/s1600/Traveling.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="398" data-original-width="600" height="132" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg0XWHEmkp4WkJvH4e-IL8Utm_T6gCB-ikfM68NAp3-AJ77p-qWf46I2PQhSOJ-pACQcKt5KjridCDA2VdLAc0lXog6XiriTEF2EymrVggzOeNo8qfQ5f9YpKwxEDU9Stay4kCMygaH3xU/s200/Traveling.jpg" width="200" /></a><span style="font-family: "arial" , sans-serif; font-size: 12.0pt;">Oh! how
many times this wonder of travel worried me! Even in your 80s, you and Amma
would disappear on a trip and not tell me. I had to track you down like a
detective.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<br /></div>
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<span style="font-family: "arial" , sans-serif; font-size: 12.0pt;">I am
amused that though you have flown around the world many, many times, you are
still nervous to fly. As children, we liked making you shiver with fear, when we loudly wished for the adventure of being hijacked! Sorry.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "arial" , sans-serif; font-size: 12.0pt;">I appreciate that you made my dark colored skin inconsequential. Specially in a family of fair people. To you, I was pretty. A "p</span><span style="font-family: "arial" , sans-serif; font-size: 12pt;">retty" that meant practical, intelligent, confident, logical, respected.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "arial" , sans-serif; font-size: 12.0pt;">I cry now to see you helpless and so dependent on people. And I lie when I tell you it doesn’t matter. It does. And it hurts. Physically hurts.</span><br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiar6VQkAFL3sOyA9skYl297igganSgmBbnW9kpWnKamYEJg-uS8-5gpve6ELrqIVWJbgpQMhoFISVVLEeAik1RaFG7g5t9ej9haoMzbQ1lkjB5aeLaNcyuHzOs2RzDwWYLAf-hE-zeO1s/s1600/Anna+after+eating+Paneer+Jelebi+May+2015.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1200" data-original-width="1600" height="150" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiar6VQkAFL3sOyA9skYl297igganSgmBbnW9kpWnKamYEJg-uS8-5gpve6ELrqIVWJbgpQMhoFISVVLEeAik1RaFG7g5t9ej9haoMzbQ1lkjB5aeLaNcyuHzOs2RzDwWYLAf-hE-zeO1s/s200/Anna+after+eating+Paneer+Jelebi+May+2015.jpg" width="200" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="color: #38761d; font-size: x-small;">This is what Anna looks like<br /> after eating a jalebi :-)</span></td></tr>
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<span style="font-family: "arial" , sans-serif; font-size: 12.0pt;">I feel
guilty and I wonder if I am a bad child, a cruel child, when I wish that your life
would end, peacefully and quickly. I think 10 years of suffering is enough. And
these three years have taken the mickey out of both of us.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "arial" , sans-serif; font-size: 12.0pt;">I love
the way your face lights up with a toothless smile when I ask you if you want
to eat ice cream, or jalebi, or mysore pak. I sometimes ask you this, just to
see you smile. A smile that is infectious and makes me want to skip like a little child.<o:p></o:p></span><br />
<span style="font-family: "arial" , sans-serif; font-size: 12.0pt;"><br /></span><span style="font-family: "arial" , sans-serif; font-size: 12.0pt;"><span style="font-family: "arial" , sans-serif; font-size: 11pt; line-height: 107%;">I don’t know how to end this letter other than to say
that I both dread and look forward to every day with you.</span> </span><br />
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<span style="color: #38761d; font-family: "arial" , sans-serif; font-size: x-small;"><i><a href="https://www.thequint.com/life/2017/06/15/dear-dad-am-i-a-cruel-child-for-hoping-your-life-would-end-quickly-and-peacefully" target="_blank">First published in The Quint, 16 June 2017</a></i></span></div>
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Sanghttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01972610394051964785noreply@blogger.com10tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3996292420517555335.post-90240294710577523062017-05-24T16:09:00.000+05:302017-05-25T07:13:39.148+05:30Shaken, Not Stirred<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
<table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: left; margin-right: 1em; text-align: justify;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjG0EPjmRAbCVt5tftwVmw1F7J5NjIQAbBWm-ystIEU5VIHYWQiXcwdCEIO-dUdZZDjcb7m_u7r1CsQJZLcjSOuztYt0JW5-QtIOqJjvzKq3jt5-TpyU6wpn4DzdMH_WmmadcLVH6FLPkg/s1600/Sir_Roger_Moore_1973.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;"><img border="0" data-original-height="450" data-original-width="330" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjG0EPjmRAbCVt5tftwVmw1F7J5NjIQAbBWm-ystIEU5VIHYWQiXcwdCEIO-dUdZZDjcb7m_u7r1CsQJZLcjSOuztYt0JW5-QtIOqJjvzKq3jt5-TpyU6wpn4DzdMH_WmmadcLVH6FLPkg/s320/Sir_Roger_Moore_1973.jpg" width="234" /></span></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><i><span style="color: #0b5394; font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif; font-size: x-small;">Sir Roger Moore in 1973<br />when his first movie<br /><span style="background-color: #f8f9fa; text-align: left;">Live and Let Die was released</span></span></i></td></tr>
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<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;">Yesterday, when I heard of Sir Roger Moore's passing, all I could think of were the James Bond movies we watched with Anna in our childhood. Anna was a big James Bond fan. He took us at an early age to watch James Bond movies, so that we could "build a real appreciation" for them. I must have seen my first Bond movie in the early 70s - with Roger Moore as the suave and sexy 007. I am sure we saw other movies, like Jaws and Close Encounters, but it is the Bond movies that I remember the most.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;">Here is how one of our movie outings would play out in the Murthi household. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;">We'd be eating dinner at 8pm on a week night. Anna would suddenly ask us what movies were currently showing. One of us would interrupt whatever morsel of food was finding its way into our mouth, and go fetch the newspaper (I believe that the first thing I learned to read in a newspaper was the schedule of movies!). We would specifically read out the name of the movie running at Chanakya - the defacto favorite theater for English language movies.</span></div>
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<table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: right; margin-left: 1em; text-align: right;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhyPfsqKvEqyoRa4qpYBPyxEThiExeI8EUdfHu_fd4XVXS3hDiH5cFtwfIv1iFzADQE3mN99Aaii_tOFkCj3vySNryT8onTpH6VMHl8wFx2px_qlVUHmPpg_lS15yErgOdmtqTdy6CazzA/s1600/Chanakya+Theater+fm+wikiDOTindiancineDOTmaSLASHwikiSLASHChanakya.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1343" data-original-width="1096" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhyPfsqKvEqyoRa4qpYBPyxEThiExeI8EUdfHu_fd4XVXS3hDiH5cFtwfIv1iFzADQE3mN99Aaii_tOFkCj3vySNryT8onTpH6VMHl8wFx2px_qlVUHmPpg_lS15yErgOdmtqTdy6CazzA/s320/Chanakya+Theater+fm+wikiDOTindiancineDOTmaSLASHwikiSLASHChanakya.jpg" width="261" /></span></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><i><span style="color: #0b5394; font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;">Chanakya Theater<br />Photo Courtesy: <a href="https://wiki.indiancine.ma/wiki/Chanakya" target="_blank">Indiancine.ma Wiki</a></span></i></td></tr>
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<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;">Anna (and Amma) would ask us if we wanted to see it. Of course, we did! What tweenager or teenager would say no to a trip to the movies in the 70s and 80s?</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;">The six of us would finish eating, clearing the table, cleaning the kitchen, changing clothes, closing windows and doors, packing snacks for the movie hall, and locking the flat in record time. Anna would bring the car and keep it idling in the porch of our block of flats. We would run down the stairs </span><span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;">too excited to stand still in a lift with Amma, and tumble into the car </span><span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;">with no argument on who got the window seat. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;">Anna would get us to the theater by 8:50 pm so that we could buy tickets and be seated in time for the 9 pm show. We never missed an ad or a trailer. Even now, I hate missing theater ads and trailers.</span></div>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjDvNgaWI6JuAioKtFsORLFhG7ygXHjpnwwFiovu8OnUQTgbrTDrgHAGQoVQFidRliUX6oL5GnMN2X4WgHdJddlxWZdIqAEUsD19vVIx-5dc87odDZ0aEgnW-ItojWngj5PeCRGprc81JE/s1600/Parle+Poppins.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;"><img border="0" data-original-height="237" data-original-width="213" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjDvNgaWI6JuAioKtFsORLFhG7ygXHjpnwwFiovu8OnUQTgbrTDrgHAGQoVQFidRliUX6oL5GnMN2X4WgHdJddlxWZdIqAEUsD19vVIx-5dc87odDZ0aEgnW-ItojWngj5PeCRGprc81JE/s1600/Parle+Poppins.jpg" /></span></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><i><span style="color: #0b5394; font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;">Parle Poppins<br />I loved the red ones</span></i></td></tr>
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<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;">At Interval, snacks would be taken out of various handbags and consumed with gusto. Those were the days when we could carry oranges, peanuts, chocolates, roti rolls, poppins, & water into theaters and have a picnic. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;">Quite often, Anna would take our friends out for James Bond movies too. Since all of us could not fit into a Fiat, the elder kids (with one girl to ensure we could get tickets quickly by standing in the Ladies Queue!) would catch a bus. The younger kids would be driven by Anna and Amma. So well-known is Anna's love for James Bond movies that one of our friends gifted him with a CD set of all James Bond movies for his 80th birthday.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;">Now, often when we push Anna's wheelchair over rough potholed roads, I joke with Anna and ask him if he is feeling "shaken, not stirred". Anna doesn't normally get it the first time. Then I ask him how James Bond likes his martinis. I can almost hear the wheels of his memory grinding.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;">"You are shaken, Anna, not stirred. Like James Bond's martinis". He smiles every time. Not in the first telling as he used to, but in the second telling. In the second telling, he smiles.</span><br />
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<span style="color: #0b5394; font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif; font-size: x-small;">PS: I haven't told Anna of Sir Roger Moore's passing</span></div>
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Sanghttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01972610394051964785noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3996292420517555335.post-30226645739859765872017-05-18T07:53:00.001+05:302017-05-18T07:53:04.168+05:30Making Snake Gourd Vegetable (Padvalkai Palya), Anna Ishtyle<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhKic66JuGT-_0EyRdQCaHmzdP3IKADxPmUYbWbB7CPsefSjnq6z7-S8fFrMO4Pm9tmnjkYh6vVt5a_n3lQ2DU3s1iga5lr1q1-W1VLPXWbmcWPDrY50OqX79XLdld9XNDn2PA28m9PmaE/s1600/lakshmi-hindu-goddess-of-wealth-good-luck-and-fortune-fm-wwwDOTgoddessgiftDOTnet.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhKic66JuGT-_0EyRdQCaHmzdP3IKADxPmUYbWbB7CPsefSjnq6z7-S8fFrMO4Pm9tmnjkYh6vVt5a_n3lQ2DU3s1iga5lr1q1-W1VLPXWbmcWPDrY50OqX79XLdld9XNDn2PA28m9PmaE/s320/lakshmi-hindu-goddess-of-wealth-good-luck-and-fortune-fm-wwwDOTgoddessgiftDOTnet.jpg" width="206" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="color: #38761d; font-size: xx-small;">Goddess Lakshmi<br />Photo Courtesy: <a href="http://goddessgift.net/">Goddessgift.net</a></span></td></tr>
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My father and his two brothers were 3 male offspring of 10<span style="font-size: x-small;">*</span> born to my grandparents. Ajji and Tatha, as they were called, celebrated each daughter's birth as the gracing of their homes by Lakshmi, the Goddess of Wealth, Fortune & Prosperity. That meant a lot, given that they were poor. Tatha was a village schoolteacher who owned some land, but that didn't go very far to feed the 12 mouths in his home. </div>
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Anna told us that in his childhood he often had to wrap a wet towel around his stomach, to dull hunger pains, before sleeping at night.<br />
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I believe that this was the reason why Anna could not stand it if one of us said that we were hungry. Anna would ensure that we immediately got something to eat - a banana, a biscuit, some peanuts. Anything really. Just to stop us feeling the hunger pains that he remembered from his childhood.</div>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhDPgrAj44Z77aH1Y04B-z2s1LcDu6S1q1uMktsBLMDDy5-lp3OxfsdWDGxVJmwrLY-Fv3XFWfKxt_kK-5KwuT_dVt3erWoQ9IA33AGbyGyl_UhJ-C6JyhsAMmKQxaLU6lYGmiOPMi3oew/s1600/Snakegourd+palya+fm+Raks+Kitchen.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><span style="font-size: xx-small;"><img border="0" height="141" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhDPgrAj44Z77aH1Y04B-z2s1LcDu6S1q1uMktsBLMDDy5-lp3OxfsdWDGxVJmwrLY-Fv3XFWfKxt_kK-5KwuT_dVt3erWoQ9IA33AGbyGyl_UhJ-C6JyhsAMmKQxaLU6lYGmiOPMi3oew/s200/Snakegourd+palya+fm+Raks+Kitchen.jpg" width="200" /></span></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="color: #38761d; font-size: xx-small;">Padvalkai Palya. </span><br />
<span style="color: #38761d; font-size: xx-small;">Photo courtesy: <a href="http://www.rakskitchen.net/2009/11/snake-gourd-poriyal.html" target="_blank">Raks Kitchen</a></span></td></tr>
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Even tho' there wasn't too much food, Anna and his brothers, learned to cook in their childhood. As was the tradition in south Indian Brahman families, women were not allowed into the kitchen to cook (among other things) when they were menstruating. Also, as the cycles of women in one household often synced, there were days when Tatha had to cook. Simple, two dish meals, made of whatever could be afforded, at that time. As the boys grew older, they were pressed into service, to clean, cut, and cook meals for the family.</div>
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One of the dishes Tatha would cook at these times was padvalkai palya (snake gourd sabzi / vegetable).</div>
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<table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: left; margin-right: 1em; text-align: left;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiDQdxFlily9fZT2nyX1pshtW6NlIEL_FjUoqIhP5Caueu6-e1bP9A8pGJ9Ak0Fuha_D_7S43B4rn-PAh0Z1h4NkmOCqiYFinGALwNOg-pZ2uoKcrpjRG-bL2D_YLRbtAo2dLZRa-gWTxg/s1600/Cutting+padvalkai.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="183" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiDQdxFlily9fZT2nyX1pshtW6NlIEL_FjUoqIhP5Caueu6-e1bP9A8pGJ9Ak0Fuha_D_7S43B4rn-PAh0Z1h4NkmOCqiYFinGALwNOg-pZ2uoKcrpjRG-bL2D_YLRbtAo2dLZRa-gWTxg/s320/Cutting+padvalkai.JPG" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="color: #38761d; font-size: xx-small;"><a href="https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=AEnbSr992Hg" target="_blank">Watch snake gourd being made village style</a></span></td></tr>
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Tatha would sit on the kitchen floor, with the boys around him, pealed snake gourd at his feet. He would use a vegetable cutter and coconut scrapper (a curved knife with a circular scraper head at the top, mounted on a leg of wood) to cut the gourd. Tatha would cut the snake gourd horizontally, into circles, and give it to the boys. Anna and his brothers would then meticulously poke out the seeds from each piece with their little fingers! Each circle would be examined by Tatha (his eyes becoming magnifying glasses) to see that there were no stray seeds left. The boys felt like they were waiting for school exam results! Once he was satisfied, Tatha would cut the de-seeded circles into small pieces and then cook the palya / subzi.</div>
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<table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: right; margin-left: 1em; text-align: right;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhlo9omC2sFbFSgJyS9kwmh6WfRR4FbETHYdskyr43dLY73UwJsk_DoqxRwvHbtUt-M70r9GYrjL2BoV_M-o_LXT1ASOyL9ZAeAYPlC6IWIG12I7w_Ycl_XfUgrfqaBdkNSbC8I15uELsY/s1600/Cleaning+and+cutting+snake+gourd+fm+kurinjikathambamDOTcom.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="302" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhlo9omC2sFbFSgJyS9kwmh6WfRR4FbETHYdskyr43dLY73UwJsk_DoqxRwvHbtUt-M70r9GYrjL2BoV_M-o_LXT1ASOyL9ZAeAYPlC6IWIG12I7w_Ycl_XfUgrfqaBdkNSbC8I15uELsY/s320/Cleaning+and+cutting+snake+gourd+fm+kurinjikathambamDOTcom.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="color: #38761d; font-size: xx-small;">Cleaning, de-seeding, and cutting snake gourd<br />Photo Courtesy: <a href="http://www.kurinjikathambam.com/2014/11/how-to-clean-and-cut-snake-gourd.html" target="_blank">Kurinnji Kanthambam</a></span></td></tr>
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Anna thought that poking seeds out of snake gourd was the only way to de-seed a gourd for many, many years. After all, his school-teacher father had taught him so! It was only when one day he saw, Amma, my mother, slice a snake gourd vertically in the middle, and take out the seeds in one single swoop, that he realized that he had not been taught the most efficient way!</div>
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He has told us this story time and again. Laughing at the time and effort it took him and his brothers to poke out seeds with their little fingers, waiting with bated breath for Tatha to examine each circular slice!<br />
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Even now when I recount this story to Anna, he smiles. It seems that his Parkinson's and Dementia fogged brain recognizes and appreciates old stories!<br />
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<i><span style="font-size: x-small;">*There were 11 offspring, one died in childbirth.</span></i></div>
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Sanghttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01972610394051964785noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3996292420517555335.post-49437059906415405222017-05-10T10:20:00.001+05:302017-05-18T07:43:12.462+05:30Coffee Chronicles - Part 1<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhX6-WmrXG_ejKPk4cAHcwvu9b3gK8Tho-Tv2fQmzr72zHuzAQROr8AQmnqZT1IJca_gnwiUX8jleRdVb-eA2pOluM7uzlEHonGk-BM4aeG_JrcMFgAlVc7ci3T82HOHm5CdPw2LljsS_Y/s1600/drip+coffee+maker.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhX6-WmrXG_ejKPk4cAHcwvu9b3gK8Tho-Tv2fQmzr72zHuzAQROr8AQmnqZT1IJca_gnwiUX8jleRdVb-eA2pOluM7uzlEHonGk-BM4aeG_JrcMFgAlVc7ci3T82HOHm5CdPw2LljsS_Y/s320/drip+coffee+maker.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="color: #783f04; font-size: x-small;">Drip-Filter-Coffee Maker</span><br />
<span style="color: #783f04; font-size: x-small;">Photo Courtesy: <a href="http://www.eatomaniac.com/2011/03/south-indian-filter-coffee.html" target="_blank">Eatomaniac</a></span></td></tr>
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Anna, my father, knows how to cook. Not gourmet cook, not survival cook, but somewhere-in-the-middle cook.</div>
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Given Anna's love for coffee, obviously, Anna makes fabulous coffee. South Indian coffee, of course! The coffee he calls "Real Coffee" or "The Best Coffee".</div>
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From as early as I can recall, I remember hearing Anna in the kitchen early in the morning, making coffee. Anna, would wake up sometime between 4:30 am and 5:00 am in the morning. After saying his prayers, sitting cross-legged in the middle of his bed, he would go to the kitchen to make coffee.</div>
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<div style="text-align: justify;">
My mother, knowing what he would need, would have left a clean and dry drip-filter-coffee maker on the counter top. Anna would just have to load the top chamber with ground coffee, pat the powder down into a "gently packed" cake, place it on the bottom chamber, and pour hot water into the top chamber. While he waited for the coffee decoction to collect in the bottom chamber, he would go to the fridge and pull out a small vessel of milk and boil it. Simple, right? Well not so simple, if it is Anna.</div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: right; text-align: justify;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhs65DZe6xo2_5cy4EP0_XRt4QrCCB4DYeEzgMB5vnepcOjIudV2KTKSopS-CdAvpTUUvcB88nob4xT_5KLFRSuQeogao_Xn0Kqaw6XOzS5dTKU5kYQMepEjRPpRsw4uIfEdqibBsZCAoM/s1600/coffee+decoction.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="179" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhs65DZe6xo2_5cy4EP0_XRt4QrCCB4DYeEzgMB5vnepcOjIudV2KTKSopS-CdAvpTUUvcB88nob4xT_5KLFRSuQeogao_Xn0Kqaw6XOzS5dTKU5kYQMepEjRPpRsw4uIfEdqibBsZCAoM/s320/coffee+decoction.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="color: #783f04; font-size: x-small;">Filter Coffee Decoction<br />Photo Courtesy: <a href="https://rangaraniacharyulu.wordpress.com/category/indian-filter-coffee/" target="_blank">Lime 'n Mint</a></span></td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
Three out of seven mornings a week, we would be woken to Anna's hushed-shoutout to my mother from the kitchen,"Saralaaaa, where is the ....". Sometimes it was the coffee powder that he could not find, sometimes the saucepan to heat the water and sometimes the milk.</div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
We would all let out a collective groan.</div>
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<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
My mother would respond in a sleepy-voiced hushed-shoutout, "Yane-ree, it's on the shelf / in the fridge / ..."</div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
We got so used to this, that we would wake up at an un-Godly hour to hear Anna and Amma hush-shoutout on various coffee making paraphernalia, and then promptly fall back to sleep.</div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
We were not allowed to drink coffee as children and hence were taught how to make coffee only in our late teenage-hood. We were instructed by Anna on the precise method to get the best coffee decoction - the right quantity of coffee powder to use, how to pat the coffee in the top chamber, the temperature of the water, how to pour water into the top chamber such that the water was clear and not clouded with coffee, etc.</div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: left; text-align: justify;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhdIU31RQucRXcW-5fOizoazNad99urEPg7d0JEcMIqa2dR780Zxca7Q_w2o91o5u3u1eECbbdVcLodaahMseMMxofv5ARl_7j-eKSAeQQwiwXRXiHPsJj45CtpUyXzSJicj0lQkGvsuWM/s1600/Foaming_filter_coffee+at+MTR.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhdIU31RQucRXcW-5fOizoazNad99urEPg7d0JEcMIqa2dR780Zxca7Q_w2o91o5u3u1eECbbdVcLodaahMseMMxofv5ARl_7j-eKSAeQQwiwXRXiHPsJj45CtpUyXzSJicj0lQkGvsuWM/s1600/Foaming_filter_coffee+at+MTR.jpg" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="color: #783f04; font-size: x-small;">Foaming Filter Coffee at<br /> Mavalli Tiffin Room, Bangalore</span></td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
We were only allowed practice runs of making filter coffee. Anna was the one who would always make the coffee at home. Two times a day, once in the morning and once in the evening. Even when Anna was diagnosed with Parkinson's Disease and Dementia, he continued to make filter coffee everyday. He stopped making filter coffee only after Amma died. I don't know why. It wasn't that he lost interest in drinking coffee. He still loves his coffee. Hot coffee. No matter what the ambient temperature is.</div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
Could it be that one of us, his children, took over his early morning coffee making ritual without asking him if he wanted to give it up?</div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
Could it be that our fear of him hurting himself or burning the house down, made us take it over earlier than necessary?</div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
Could it be that he was not able to manage the physical precision that is needed to make coffee?</div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
I don't know. And I probably will never get to know. Anna doesn't talk that much nowadays, for me to ask him. That time has passed.</div>
</div>
Sanghttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01972610394051964785noreply@blogger.com5tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3996292420517555335.post-53695437722588736802017-04-27T09:23:00.000+05:302017-04-27T09:23:06.699+05:30The Dangers of Airport Shopping<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
<table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: left; margin-right: 1em; text-align: justify;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgfrfGF2th8FWADlIKP4k5GZfRhDEKZK7rcJuytMq7RMdIATm9wdzDCcGyYHNndzWleVlTB80oCJCZsSRtEwG98UnhU6O9tQik9SCrBMfyO1jzRxREhSsDbyaWtsLStIMrNA7izeYilO5s/s1600/20170420_183427.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="180" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgfrfGF2th8FWADlIKP4k5GZfRhDEKZK7rcJuytMq7RMdIATm9wdzDCcGyYHNndzWleVlTB80oCJCZsSRtEwG98UnhU6O9tQik9SCrBMfyO1jzRxREhSsDbyaWtsLStIMrNA7izeYilO5s/s320/20170420_183427.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="color: #0b5394; font-size: x-small;">20 Apr 2017:<br />Anna doing a great impression of Gautama Buddha</span></td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
Saturday night was a bad night for Anna. He was agitated all night. Trying to get up off the bed by himself. Insisting on walking (shuffling) around the house. Speaking in English. Looking for something or someone. He finally went to sleep at around 4am. I was a little surprised to hear this, for Anna has been sitting with his eyes closed, whole body relaxed, doing a fabulous impersonation of Gautama Buddha.</div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
On Sunday, Anna builds up enthusiasm to go to the mall for coffee and cake. I keep asking him about his dream, to determine why he was agitated. He just tells me that he does not remember.</div>
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<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<div style="text-align: right;">
</div>
<table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: right; margin-left: 1em; text-align: right;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgVMkA5mIM2O9RnLaIsOWGAkKaAWjO-R7sq9mpiEpB1WNrAtFe0-Ivrk_QSqTmRvF6khI5XXLZTKcc8TPAaAw6O32AsHFjVyDurljbZCSvllNrx1rprMbJPcWl-d-v3iGG8jzvpwc8b8dk/s1600/Anna+and+Manish+23+Apr+2017.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgVMkA5mIM2O9RnLaIsOWGAkKaAWjO-R7sq9mpiEpB1WNrAtFe0-Ivrk_QSqTmRvF6khI5XXLZTKcc8TPAaAw6O32AsHFjVyDurljbZCSvllNrx1rprMbJPcWl-d-v3iGG8jzvpwc8b8dk/s320/Anna+and+Manish+23+Apr+2017.JPG" width="219" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="color: #0b5394;">23 Apr 2017: Anna & Manish</span></td></tr>
</tbody></table>
After our mandatory stop at Starbucks, he is wheeled around the mall while I shop. His attendant, Manish, takes a rest stop in front of a camel covered in flowers. Both Anna and Manish find it interesting.</div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
Then on the way home, we have this conversation:</div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
Anna: <i><span style="color: #38761d;">Were those real flowers on the camel?</span></i></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
Me: <i><span style="color: #38761d;">Yes Anna. I think so.</span></i></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
Anna: <i><span style="color: #38761d;">It must have been very expensive.</span></i></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
Me: <i><span style="color: #38761d;">Probably.</span></i></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
Anna: <i><span style="color: #38761d;">Last night I had a bad dream.</span></i></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
Me (suddenly realizing that he, now, remembers his dream): <i><span style="color: #38761d;">Really? What happened in your dream?</span></i></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
Anna: <i><span style="color: #38761d;">I bought a shirt. It was really expensive.</span></i></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
Me (not understanding how buying a shirt can be a bad dream): <i><span style="color: #38761d;">Where did you buy the shirt, Anna?</span></i></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
Anna: <span style="color: #38761d;"><i>At the airport.</i></span></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
Me: <i><span style="color: #38761d;">What were you doing at the airport?</span></i></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: left; text-align: right;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiemdTql6vvMEGEz4h3G5Czd4LV6DOYez9ufQpSTR2BAr9HZok2RIrjDauK76qh0DPvZkXt8JeCoeOTMuhVWeOitxg-FWVXjLNuDk1I2gT2gmz9p7_TfrRYgd69IircjJ8C9agk3EAgjZQ/s1600/IMG-20170423-WA0003.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="179" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiemdTql6vvMEGEz4h3G5Czd4LV6DOYez9ufQpSTR2BAr9HZok2RIrjDauK76qh0DPvZkXt8JeCoeOTMuhVWeOitxg-FWVXjLNuDk1I2gT2gmz9p7_TfrRYgd69IircjJ8C9agk3EAgjZQ/s320/IMG-20170423-WA0003.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="color: #0b5394; font-size: x-small;">23 Apr 2017: The marigold covered camel</span></td></tr>
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Anna: <i><span style="color: #38761d;">Going to a wedding.</span></i></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
Ah! Now I understand. There is a definite connection between a marigold decked camel and a wedding.</div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
This conversation goes on the entire journey home - about 40 mins. All in question answer mode.</div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
Anna recounts his dream (hallucination) with a little encouragement from me, like asking "And then what happened?", or "Really?", or simply saying, "Go on".<br />
<br />
Here is the hallucination, using most of his original words.<br />
<br />
<table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: right; text-align: left;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjOVDxaB7TfQu947Ee7bMMzhuThcfyYf0NPutWGhxdPAq3mjYlj8wBVBTINalePnRrcnuhNC_p5pjwHWPGYyYo3RaVg0rNm_IKCsMj_ZfDODQQO8DVMJB1d4-ojt9J3kOmBcqxDICSOnbk/s1600/IMG-20170423-WA0002.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjOVDxaB7TfQu947Ee7bMMzhuThcfyYf0NPutWGhxdPAq3mjYlj8wBVBTINalePnRrcnuhNC_p5pjwHWPGYyYo3RaVg0rNm_IKCsMj_ZfDODQQO8DVMJB1d4-ojt9J3kOmBcqxDICSOnbk/s400/IMG-20170423-WA0002.jpg" width="223" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="color: #0b5394; font-size: x-small;">23 Apr 2017:<br />Anna in front of the marigold camel</span></td></tr>
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Anna is at an airport. He decides to buy a shirt for a wedding. He chooses the older "model" as the latest "model" is very expensive. He unpacks and wears the shirt and then goes to pay for it. It is then that he realizes that he has no "paper money" and no "plastic money" to pay for it. The cashier tells Anna that they will have to detain him overnight while he arranges for money to pay for it.<br />
<br />
Anna searches his belongings and finds that he does not have any papers. He also does not remember our names, addresses, or numbers. He is panicking and the cashier keeps taunting Anna saying that all thieves pretend to have lost money and papers, and then claim not to remember their identity.<br />
<br />
With superhuman effort, Anna taxes his brain. He remembers his "valet's" name, Manish. The cashier looks up Manish's contact details on the "address-0-gram" and calls Manish to bring money to the airport. Manish says he will take 1hr 56mins precisely and he does.<br />
<br />
At the end of this tale, I ask Anna if he is feeling calm now. He says "Of, course! It was just a dream".<br />
<br />
I decide not to tell him that he hallucinated the whole airport shopping event last night and was agitated. He says that the worst part of his "dream" was the embarrassment of being called a thief and being threatened with detention. The dream is over. He is calm now, and that is all that matters to us.</div>
</div>
Sanghttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01972610394051964785noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3996292420517555335.post-72634817435401620252017-04-18T17:20:00.002+05:302017-04-18T17:20:54.956+05:30Uppittu Episodes<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
<div style="text-align: justify;">
What a hectic few weeks it has been! It started with Anna's household helper going to Ranchi, to arrange his sister's wedding. At first he said he would be gone for a month, which became two months, and now is "will not be returning, please find someone else."</div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgdpE7ArcrxH15xQiJ3yUb8ngPY7oGuwtFLwhjo2kRjrTFoanfE7M1CNcaIzvmVjoy09UyQ0yldiUczAp3X4HTljSagXkioFCdJbpXyOF96HqD6ALNeGV7JbdDHyM5Afz6oLRp0JF4kFIQ/s1600/Delhi+to+Ranchi.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="200" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgdpE7ArcrxH15xQiJ3yUb8ngPY7oGuwtFLwhjo2kRjrTFoanfE7M1CNcaIzvmVjoy09UyQ0yldiUczAp3X4HTljSagXkioFCdJbpXyOF96HqD6ALNeGV7JbdDHyM5Afz6oLRp0JF4kFIQ/s640/Delhi+to+Ranchi.JPG" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: xx-small;"><span style="color: #0b5394; font-size: xx-small;">Anna's former household help is from a village near Ranchi, Jharkhand</span></span></td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
It is hard to run Anna's home without household help, so we looked for respite homes. Some where he can be taken care of for a month or so. A place where I can go visit him twice a day, so that he does not feel lonely or abandoned. And lo and behold! I found one. Yes, only one!!</div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
Ultimately we decided to keep him at home and divide the chores among us. While the hunt for a reliable housekeeper goes on (with no luck as yet), we are becoming more and more exhausted by the day.</div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
Early in this new arrangement, I made idli uppittu (upma) and oats uppittu (upma) and stored it in Anna's fridge so that breakfast was easy to cater. One evening the attendant tells me that Anna ate a whole bowl of uppittu. That's a lot. Anna's appetite has shrunk (as has his body) over the last few months.</div>
<table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: left; text-align: justify;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg7ytLVlaSCwKaw8GYqQ562hXChWU1YwV4XguyQkTODp09lAVSx_4xpHyGHe5iZRVD5fd5QOPYjHNd0hM2-pa0eu39KMEJvAF9IXKSAbckuOunqV66illy3K7zwpHcssdPkqPmkXi96d5U/s1600/Vegetable_Oats_Upma_foodfood.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="248" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg7ytLVlaSCwKaw8GYqQ562hXChWU1YwV4XguyQkTODp09lAVSx_4xpHyGHe5iZRVD5fd5QOPYjHNd0hM2-pa0eu39KMEJvAF9IXKSAbckuOunqV66illy3K7zwpHcssdPkqPmkXi96d5U/s320/Vegetable_Oats_Upma_foodfood.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="color: #0b5394; font-size: xx-small;">Oats Uppittu. Photo Courtesy: Sanjiv Kapoor</span></td></tr>
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<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
Me: <i><span style="color: #741b47;">Anna, I heard you liked the oats upma!</span></i></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
Pause.<br />
Anna: <i><span style="color: #741b47;">Yes. Was it oats? Really?</span></i></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
Me: <i><span style="color: #741b47;">Yes, Anna. It was oats. As in Quaker oats.</span></i></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
Anna: <i><span style="color: #741b47;">It was good.</span></i></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
Me (fishing for a compliment): <i><span style="color: #741b47;">Of course! Who do you think made it?</span></i></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
Anna (smiling and knowing exactly what I want to hear): <i><span style="color: #741b47;">You must have!! </span></i>Pause. <i><span style="color: #741b47;">You make uppittu like your mother.</span></i><br />
<i><span style="color: #741b47;"><br /></span></i></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
Now that is a real compliment! I love compliments! Even if I have to extract them, by force, from my father.</div>
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: right; margin-left: 1em; text-align: right;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgvPUGQM3HEo8W-sj_FISdvz1xXKCZPl3EweQ82DeKqJNKt1AF2k03kUQANa2sg4ujhohvbGuI8ilHKKOvCuOGxmcxhGPv1I3FKmwbDgHt0iNmFEuxACqtMmPUdkrNTXwZ4idZagj717k8/s1600/Tomato-Idli-Upma-Sanjeev-Kapoor-Kitchen-FoodFood.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="248" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgvPUGQM3HEo8W-sj_FISdvz1xXKCZPl3EweQ82DeKqJNKt1AF2k03kUQANa2sg4ujhohvbGuI8ilHKKOvCuOGxmcxhGPv1I3FKmwbDgHt0iNmFEuxACqtMmPUdkrNTXwZ4idZagj717k8/s320/Tomato-Idli-Upma-Sanjeev-Kapoor-Kitchen-FoodFood.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="color: #0b5394; font-size: xx-small;">Idli Uppittu. Photo Courtesy: Sanjiv Kapoor</span></td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
Me:<i><span style="color: #741b47;"> Anna, do you remember the story of Amma and how she made uppittu the first time?</span></i></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
Anna's smile becomes wider.</div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
Me: <i><span style="color: #741b47;">Anna, can you tell me the story?</span></i></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
Anna nods. Opens his mouth to start the story. Then he closes his eyes.</div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
Anna (whispering):<i><span style="color: #741b47;"> You tell it.</span></i></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
And so I do. </div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
But let me give you some context.</div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
When Amma and Anna got married, Anna knew how to cook (kindof) and Amma didn't really. She learned as much as she could after the wedding was agreed to by both families, and for some reason, didn't write the recipes, but memorized them.</div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
One of the first things she set out to make was uppittu for breakfast. Amma was in the kitchen for half an hour, while Anna waited patiently. Finally, Anna went to the kitchen to see what was taking so long. He found Amma looking perplexed, counting ingredients off her fingers.</div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
Anna asked Amma what was wrong. Amma told him that she remembered that uppittu had 10 ingredients but she couldn't remember the 10th. She rattled the 9 ingredients she remembered - rai, hing, urad dal, channa dal, kadipatta, green chilly, ginger, salt, curd/buttermilk.</div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<div style="text-align: left;">
</div>
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiL82vJAgK8_ynIdIRF83ZY5rBCuoSsYUvB9u6ak0zm56_MhaXpMyNcN8oxDQZmYyGs1aGaCnEUwcmCz910nEA_PnGKpBznXvgVR0xGQOkBnFq9Ut-xjDV_jMCWDVAJNt3NSM1lvArOpuo/s1600/Uppittu+Ingrediants.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="222" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiL82vJAgK8_ynIdIRF83ZY5rBCuoSsYUvB9u6ak0zm56_MhaXpMyNcN8oxDQZmYyGs1aGaCnEUwcmCz910nEA_PnGKpBznXvgVR0xGQOkBnFq9Ut-xjDV_jMCWDVAJNt3NSM1lvArOpuo/s640/Uppittu+Ingrediants.JPG" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="color: #0b5394; font-size: xx-small;">The 9 ingredients for uppittu that Amma remembered</span></td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
Anna then asked her, very quietly he claims, whether the 10th ingredient was sooji! (That's like asking if the missing ingredient in butter chicken is chicken!)</div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
Every time my parents told us this story they would chuckle at the memory. When we were learning to cook, if we ever said that the dish was missing something, Anna would tease us by asking if it was the main ingredient, aka sooji, and we would respond with an "Uff-ho! Annnaaaa!"</div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
Now when I retell the story, I just see a millimeter shift of his lips telling me that he is smiling. But his eyes stay closed. And soon he is breathing deeply, mouth open, fast asleep!</div>
</div>
Sanghttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01972610394051964785noreply@blogger.com7tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3996292420517555335.post-29846185716951308032017-04-07T15:07:00.000+05:302017-04-07T15:07:27.338+05:30The Importance of Our National Anthem<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
<table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: left; margin-right: 1em; text-align: left;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgNKB9TUcZKtibwFng-uXP2NJ8BbSBtfQJjXQkXexhCUYD-2lzv538-hmkpkw-AXZGP1pGaWw8pXIS0RtT8yqDa9rL-DDM5hWvu9xNY9G9W8sJrtYGk_Edhk0tP3TwEvskhH86ePeDMEUs/s1600/20160423_122853.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgNKB9TUcZKtibwFng-uXP2NJ8BbSBtfQJjXQkXexhCUYD-2lzv538-hmkpkw-AXZGP1pGaWw8pXIS0RtT8yqDa9rL-DDM5hWvu9xNY9G9W8sJrtYGk_Edhk0tP3TwEvskhH86ePeDMEUs/s320/20160423_122853.jpg" width="180" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: xx-small;"><span style="color: #741b47; font-size: xx-small;">April 2016: Anna could pick up</span></span><br />
<span style="font-size: xx-small;"><span style="color: #741b47; font-size: xx-small;">a ceramic cup full of coffee and <br />open the lid of a water bottle.</span></span><br />
<span style="font-size: xx-small;"><span style="color: #741b47; font-size: xx-small;">Now, most days, he can't.</span><span style="font-size: x-small;"> </span></span></td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
A few weeks ago, I walked into Anna's house to find a sleepy Anna sitting at the dining table, a hot cup of coffee in front of him, his hands trapped under the table (nowadays, Anna can't seem to work out how to move his hands sideways and up from under the table).</div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
Me: <i><span style="color: #38761d;">Anna, do you want to drink your coffee?</span></i></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
Anna gives a slight nod of his head.</div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
Me (helping him move his hands sideways and up): <i><span style="color: #38761d;">Anna, can you hold the cup to drink your coffee?</span></i></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
There is another slight nod but no move to hold the coffee cup.<br />
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
I bend the index finger of his right hand and curl it around the handle of the cup. That physical cue is enough for the rest of his hand to curl. He lifts the cup. The cup rises a couple of centimeters off the table and is dangerously tilted. He has little strength in his wrist and hand. </div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
Me (moving his left hand to hold the side opposite the handle): <i><span style="color: #38761d;">Anna, lift the cup with both your hands.</span></i></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
Anna tries but can't. The alternative is for me to lift the cup to his lips to let him sip his coffee. I've got to be really careful, as the coffee is hot and if I tilt the cup too much, he could burn his lips.</div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
I ask the attendant, Sudama, if Anna had a comfortable night. Sudama tells me that Anna was fine till about 2 am in the morning. Then he suddenly turned on this back, straightened his legs and spine (almost lying in attention) and sang the Indian National Anthem. Really! The whole national anthem!</div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<iframe allowfullscreen="" class="YOUTUBE-iframe-video" data-thumbnail-src="https://i.ytimg.com/vi/yQmnt1e_3ds/0.jpg" frameborder="0" height="266" src="https://www.youtube.com/embed/yQmnt1e_3ds?feature=player_embedded" width="320"></iframe></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
Sudama tells me that Anna sang the anthem well. The words were all correct and the tune perfect. I find that hard to believe. Anna is tone-deaf. His Hindi is passable (i.e. it's just about good enough for him to have passed the Government mandated Hindi exam for Central Government jobs in the '50s / '60s).</div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
Over the next week I try to find out what Anna was dreaming of when he sang the National Anthem in the middle of the night. Anna does not recall anything. There is not even a glimmer of a memory. So I try to ferret it out over multiple conversations.</div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
Me: <i><span style="color: #38761d;">Anna, did you remember the National Anthem from when you sang it?</span></i></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
Anna does not respond.</div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
Me: <i><span style="color: #38761d;">Anna, did you sing the National Anthem in school?</span></i></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
Anna: <i><span style="color: #38761d;">Yes.</span></i></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
Really? It can't possibly be. Anna was born in 1928. At Independence in 1947, he would have been 19 years old. From what I remember the anthem was adopted in 1950 when Anna was in college.</div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
Me: <i><span style="color: #38761d;">Anna, did you sing the anthem in college and not when you were in school?</span></i></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
Anna: <i><span style="color: #38761d;">Yes.</span></i></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
Me: <i><span style="color: #38761d;">Anna, we had assembly only in school and not when were in college.</span></i></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
There is no reaction from Anna.</div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
Me: <i><span style="color: #38761d;">Maybe we should have had assembly in college, Anna.</span></i></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
Still no reaction.</div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiyUSa-ux6IFpWh2jNhM9hCzMBRs_bROpYNTVJrqrEsDQZkUwyBmJsnHE6VITy2AcLezjB120DgycTpI7FXplQCf_lOTpe4Vopvjr9bqAuOPa6Rz0JZswrJ8pcXMb3SuTzTkmqdybMvC8I/s1600/WOW.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiyUSa-ux6IFpWh2jNhM9hCzMBRs_bROpYNTVJrqrEsDQZkUwyBmJsnHE6VITy2AcLezjB120DgycTpI7FXplQCf_lOTpe4Vopvjr9bqAuOPa6Rz0JZswrJ8pcXMb3SuTzTkmqdybMvC8I/s320/WOW.jpg" width="320" /></a>Me: (deciding to go back to familiar territory that had him talking): <i><span style="color: #38761d;">Anna, didn't you say prayers at assembly? We all said prayers at school assembly. We didn't sing the National Anthem.</span></i></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
Anna: <i><span style="color: #38761d;">As soon as the National Anthem was declared, we sang the anthem instead of prayers.</span></i></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
Me (surprised): <i><span style="color: #38761d;">Really Anna? We didn't sing the anthem instead of prayers when we were in school.</span></i></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
Anna: <i><span style="color: #38761d;">You should have.</span></i></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
Me: <i><span style="color: #38761d;">Why Anna?</span></i></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
Anna: <i><span style="color: #38761d;">Because the National Anthem is more important than prayers.</span></i></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
</div>
Sanghttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01972610394051964785noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3996292420517555335.post-44285111719174735802017-03-30T11:58:00.001+05:302017-03-30T11:59:59.983+05:30The Staccato Saree Conversation<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
<table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: right; margin-left: 1em; text-align: right;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgzZPfHDntFViTP8sKvK0hkZchQyrKF8OxvzBR6CRAH5u79rfoUQoRYXeN7LhaYi7khCxeEPECAsm3K1e_wyhic5kFqAAkBDRxV0U8Gje4EpAb8PciWuhLBS6zEMn7gCKu0ztpNgK1fEGA/s1600/staccato_marks+fm+songsofthecosmos.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="176" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgzZPfHDntFViTP8sKvK0hkZchQyrKF8OxvzBR6CRAH5u79rfoUQoRYXeN7LhaYi7khCxeEPECAsm3K1e_wyhic5kFqAAkBDRxV0U8Gje4EpAb8PciWuhLBS6zEMn7gCKu0ztpNgK1fEGA/s320/staccato_marks+fm+songsofthecosmos.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="color: #990000; font-size: x-small;">Staccato Marks<br />Photo Courtesy: www. songsofthecosmos.com</span></td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
My conversations with my father have changed. Changed in content and context. Changed in tone and tenor. Mostly, ebbing away with no warning. Our conversations have been impacted by the degradation of Anna's physical and mental abilities. His speech mimics his shuffle-walk of fits and starts, leading to conversations in short bursts. A meaningful conversation can take hours or days. I call these "staccato conversations".</div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
Here is a conversation I had on Monday.</div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: left; text-align: justify;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh73PEErmcGa8LL8gg_2vymrtHDhEnn1wjVRg2wJuyD80M4uM_7F9FV8ampgyoDM3OmJ5IginGUxU2ybW13znqWY5cv4aGhIEAu5FGV2RAbFWcSBo9G0lM8Lmin2UD3DA1eJ7NL7kbb_bU/s1600/kodubale.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="198" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh73PEErmcGa8LL8gg_2vymrtHDhEnn1wjVRg2wJuyD80M4uM_7F9FV8ampgyoDM3OmJ5IginGUxU2ybW13znqWY5cv4aGhIEAu5FGV2RAbFWcSBo9G0lM8Lmin2UD3DA1eJ7NL7kbb_bU/s320/kodubale.jpg" style="cursor: move;" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="color: #990000; font-size: x-small;">Kodubale</span></td></tr>
</tbody></table>
I get to Anna's place after spending a day Ubering from one end of Gurgaon to the other in 37°C temperature. I find Anna sitting on a single-seat sofa sipping tea from a cup held to his mouth by his attendant (nowadays Anna is finding it hard to pick up a mug). On a plate in front of him is a half eaten kodubale<span style="background-color: white; color: #888888; font-family: "arial" , sans-serif; font-size: 13px;"> </span>(lovingly made by my first cousin and sent specially for him).<br />
<br />
I ask him how he is and get a one word response, "Fine". I try starting conversations by asking if he had a good nap, or dreamed anything interesting, or what he had for breakfast. Nothing really works. At best, I get a one-word answer and at worst, none. This is not a conversation!<br />
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
In an attempt to start-up a conversation, I decide to tell him about my saree. But first let me give you a little context. For many years, I haven't bought new clothes unless I have given away / retired something similar. I am proud that I have often not replaced old clothes, shrinking my wardrobe. Earlier this year when I went to Jaipur, I had just given away 4 sarees and so did not feel guilty buying a couple more. Printed cotton sarees. One of which I was wearing on Monday.</div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
In an attempt to get Anna to talk with me a little, I get up and stand in his direct-line-of-sight and model my saree.</div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: left; margin-right: 1em; text-align: left;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjdkmCRoOOHfSBC5Fk6WpRf4siZeamYK09MK6bhAMBFXg9hGrirWWY2hz4X7YHCtObkqXTWPbjYtXBsX8BnPa61cE2Nc7nBdOKOQPcos0jE7U-tH-8wnk4cj9aZ0eeEFH_nCnUYXyW8Us4/s1600/My+Saree+Mar+2017.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjdkmCRoOOHfSBC5Fk6WpRf4siZeamYK09MK6bhAMBFXg9hGrirWWY2hz4X7YHCtObkqXTWPbjYtXBsX8BnPa61cE2Nc7nBdOKOQPcos0jE7U-tH-8wnk4cj9aZ0eeEFH_nCnUYXyW8Us4/s400/My+Saree+Mar+2017.jpg" width="250" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="color: #990000; font-size: x-small;">The saree I modeled for Anna</span></td></tr>
</tbody></table>
Me: <i><span style="color: #0b5394;">Anna, do you like my saree?</span></i></div>
<br />
<div style="text-align: justify;">
No answer, so I wait for a bit and repeat the question.</div>
<br />
<div style="text-align: justify;">
I continue to wait and twirl around.</div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
Me: <i><span style="color: #0b5394;">Anna, do you like my saree?</span></i></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
Anna: <i><span style="color: #0b5394;">Yes</span></i></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
Me: <i><span style="color: #0b5394;">Anna, do you know how much I paid for this saree?</span></i></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
No answer, so I wait for a bit.</div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
Me (feeling proud): <i><span style="color: #0b5394;">Anna, I paid less than Rs. 500/- for this saree.</span></i></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
No reaction.</div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
Me (holding the pallu out so that he can see the design and colors): <i><span style="color: #0b5394;">Anna, isn't this saree pretty? Red and ocher on beige?</span></i></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
Anna (smiling a little): <i><span style="color: #0b5394;">It's nice </span></i></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
Me: <i><span style="color: #0b5394;">Anna, I bought this saree when I went to Jaipur earlier this year.</span></i></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
He does not recollect my trip to Jaipur and hence there is no response.</div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
Me: <i><span style="color: #0b5394;">Anna, you remember I went to Jaipur in January this year?</span></i></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
There is no memory, no reaction.</div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
Me: <i><span style="color: #0b5394;">Anna, do you know - this is the first saree I have bought in 3 years.</span></i></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
No response.</div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
Me (exaggerating my frugality to see if I can get a response): <i><span style="color: #0b5394;">Anna, I haven't bought anything new in 7 years!</span></i></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: right; text-align: justify;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg6cn8HQCZpOZRUuBioOohy4bJVTYO2lRVjp4aFQ8hNX4gKXgIiYtChue2XBvHNR8uMOL6qEXeM08L8BIw75XG8rn60hOAciP33CML-wve1JRx7GoWBEYqoKWS47mtIRrmujPqXOS7lhUE/s1600/Down+the+barrel+of+a+gun+fm+BIGLAWNewsLine.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="140" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg6cn8HQCZpOZRUuBioOohy4bJVTYO2lRVjp4aFQ8hNX4gKXgIiYtChue2XBvHNR8uMOL6qEXeM08L8BIw75XG8rn60hOAciP33CML-wve1JRx7GoWBEYqoKWS47mtIRrmujPqXOS7lhUE/s200/Down+the+barrel+of+a+gun+fm+BIGLAWNewsLine.jpg" width="200" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span class="irc_ho" dir="ltr" style="background-color: white; cursor: pointer; font-family: "arial" , sans-serif; margin-right: -2px; padding-right: 2px; text-decoration: none;"><span style="color: #990000; font-size: x-small;">Photo Courtesy: <a class="_ZR irc_hol i3724" data-noload="" data-ved="0ahUKEwi967Tnn_fSAhULRI8KHc_SDAkQjB0IBg" href="http://biglawnewsline.com/2016/04/staccato-of-gunfire-reported-in-congo-brazzaville-residents-flee.html" jsaction="mousedown:irc.rl;keydown:irc.rlk" rel="noopener" style="background-color: white; cursor: pointer; font-family: arial, sans-serif; text-align: start; text-decoration: none;" tabindex="0" target="_blank">BIGLAWNewsLine!</a></span></span></td></tr>
</tbody></table>
Long Pause.</div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
Anna (face changing from bored to incredulous): <i><span style="color: #0b5394;">You really think I would believe that?</span></i></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
Bam! A bullet shoots out of Anna's brain! Straight and sure.</div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
Me: <i><span style="color: #0b5394;">Of course, Anna! It's true!!</span></i> </div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
Anna (looking at me as if I just told him that unicorns are real!): <i><span style="color: #0b5394;">I haven't seen you repeat a saree in the 2 years I have been here.</span></i></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
Not true. I don't have that many sarees and do repeat them often. And he has been in Delhi with me for nearly 3 years, but I am not going to correct him. I want to have a conversation.</div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
Me: <i><span style="color: #0b5394;">Anna, the second saree is like this one. </span></i></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
No reaction.<br />
<br />
<div style="text-align: justify;">
Me: <i><span style="color: #0b5394;">It is prettier, and green and ocher in color.</span></i></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
Still no reaction.</div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br />
I see his eyes glaze over and know his brain is fogging up. His eyes close slowly and he falls asleep sitting up on his sofa chair.</div>
</div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<o:p></o:p></div>
</div>
Sanghttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01972610394051964785noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3996292420517555335.post-21612686314512343162017-03-10T22:23:00.003+05:302017-03-10T22:23:43.305+05:30The Little Boy<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
<table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: left; margin-right: 1em; text-align: justify;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiV8gZsBYPVI-zxsHTJFbevJT6QGzCI_5S6bzgfa9Dee45VCfTRKd65nh2pAefkFhIy56LLg83VzInwpaAPSSGhvVssDbwQ51LviwILf5uYXcQsPkEFDx0Tsgh2EAbIq4FcLpoOZjx7hkY/s1600/20161227_181057.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiV8gZsBYPVI-zxsHTJFbevJT6QGzCI_5S6bzgfa9Dee45VCfTRKd65nh2pAefkFhIy56LLg83VzInwpaAPSSGhvVssDbwQ51LviwILf5uYXcQsPkEFDx0Tsgh2EAbIq4FcLpoOZjx7hkY/s400/20161227_181057.jpg" width="225" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="color: #741b47;">Anna fast asleep in front of the TV</span><br />
<span style="color: #741b47;"><br /></span>
<span style="color: #741b47;"><br /></span>
<span style="color: #741b47;"><br /></span></td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
Anna is slowing down. He is sleeping more and walking less. Most days when I go to his apartment in the morning (before work) and in the evening (after work), I am never sure if he is going to be awake or asleep. A couple of weeks ago, I reached his apartment at 7am after my morning walk. My signature double-tap doorbell ring normally announces to Anna that I have arrived, so I am not surprised to see his eyes are open when I lean over his bed.</div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
Me: <i><span style="color: #38761d;">Anna? Are you awake?</span></i></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
Anna (looking at me, but not really looking at me): <i><span style="color: #38761d;">mumble...gurgle....mumble</span></i></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
Me: <i><span style="color: #38761d;">Good morning! </span></i></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
Anna (still just looking straight at me without seeing me): <i><span style="color: #38761d;">mumble...mumble....mumble</span></i></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
Me: <i><span style="color: #38761d;">Anna, I can't understand you. Wait a minute. Let's get you up so that you can drink some hot water.</span></i></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
We lift Anna so that he is sitting up in bed and he drinks a full glass of hot water.</div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
Me: <i><span style="color: #38761d;">Anna, did you sleep well?</span></i></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
Anna says something to me in Tamil. I don't understand.</div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
Me: <i><span style="color: #38761d;">Anna, I can't understand Tamil. Say it in Kannada.</span></i></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
Anna continues to talk in Tamil. I understand only a few words. Something about boys and playing and football and thirst.</div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
Me: <i><span style="color: #38761d;">Anna, what happened? Tell me in English.</span></i></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
Anna (in a complaining whiny voice): <span style="color: #38761d;"><i>He hit me!</i></span></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
I am instantly worried. It is almost a physical reaction. I have always feared that I would be unable to prevent Anna from getting hurt or worse still not even know about it, as I am not physically present in his flat all the time.</div>
<br />
<div style="text-align: justify;">
Me (concerned): <i><span style="color: #38761d;">Who hit you, Anna?</span></i></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
Anna (still looking at me, straight through me): <i><span style="color: #38761d;">He did.</span></i></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi-cE8uwWfgCxedNwd9XGSth7X5q-n7UJlPovcItnWdCbH8WKsYxFt660uW2FsTsi6Od0HEr6P66i-gVQ2KSr_PXl_qiOJ4JpCZe68aDO23W_wO_U6qeyr0BVPs9HVNL6RKP6OQs_2PkzI/s1600/Ensure.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em; text-align: justify;"><img border="0" height="200" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi-cE8uwWfgCxedNwd9XGSth7X5q-n7UJlPovcItnWdCbH8WKsYxFt660uW2FsTsi6Od0HEr6P66i-gVQ2KSr_PXl_qiOJ4JpCZe68aDO23W_wO_U6qeyr0BVPs9HVNL6RKP6OQs_2PkzI/s200/Ensure.jpg" width="161" /></a>Me (thinking it is best to wake him up with coffee to get a more cogent response): <i><span style="color: #38761d;">Anna, do you want to get up and have coffee and tell me about it?</span></i></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
Anna (in a voice that should be accompanied with a pout): <i><span style="color: #38761d;">I don't want coffee. I want milk.</span></i></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
Whoa! My father does not want coffee? Now that's a first! I am really surprised.</div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
Tairas (his housekeeper) gets him a warm glass of milk with Ensure. I hold the glass to his lips for him to drink and he gulps it down thirstily.</div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-size: xx-small;"><br /></span></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
Me (after he finishes): <i><span style="color: #38761d;">Anna, you sure liked the milk. You were telling me about getting hit. What happened?</span></i></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
Anna (singing): <i><span style="color: #38761d;">Happy Birthday to you! Happy Birthday to you!</span></i></div>
<br />
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEglwdCS8w2KQ6WxIzwPyFAiur-ZFl7YI1eLVhPYxuR-QHkqkSb44HkY6auP_nf44dmJDZI1owHm1SRYGNUNTCjim1hG8mg-BzD89aQv07objg2jnE2pVKT8G6ucZPXwRQXmZkKkcCICt6g/s1600/Happy+Birthday+song.png" imageanchor="1" style="background-color: white; clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="132" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEglwdCS8w2KQ6WxIzwPyFAiur-ZFl7YI1eLVhPYxuR-QHkqkSb44HkY6auP_nf44dmJDZI1owHm1SRYGNUNTCjim1hG8mg-BzD89aQv07objg2jnE2pVKT8G6ucZPXwRQXmZkKkcCICt6g/s640/Happy+Birthday+song.png" width="640" /></a></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
Me: (laughing): <i><span style="color: #38761d;">Whose birthday is it Anna?</span></i></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
Anna: <i><span style="color: #38761d;">mumble....mumble. </span></i>His eyes start to close.</div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
I tuck Anna back into bed and wait till he closes his eyes. I finish the chores in the house and walk home letting the morning's events run thru my mind.</div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
Half way home I realize that I don't hear Anna's voice. I hear a little boy's voice. Maybe the little boy he was. </div>
</div>
Sanghttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01972610394051964785noreply@blogger.com5tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3996292420517555335.post-24008033189432221352017-02-24T10:08:00.002+05:302017-02-24T10:09:35.599+05:30The Bomber<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: left; margin-right: 1em; text-align: left;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiYwf3fkJ5VuQNykerSTrOquHHCh85WhTJPHxDqWXTNSm11Pt2LTfs31CTZ3T-liKbfm6ZKul4WXh3YimuCp2rA00m2G2FoLGZ6AdOuaIkyygAcKkTHUV25kBysBg2PCUnyxCHup7WEz1o/s1600/B-53+Signage.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiYwf3fkJ5VuQNykerSTrOquHHCh85WhTJPHxDqWXTNSm11Pt2LTfs31CTZ3T-liKbfm6ZKul4WXh3YimuCp2rA00m2G2FoLGZ6AdOuaIkyygAcKkTHUV25kBysBg2PCUnyxCHup7WEz1o/s320/B-53+Signage.jpg" width="305" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="color: #38761d;">Anna's Apartment Number Signage</span></td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<span style="font-family: inherit;">We moved my father into a new apartment over 18 months ago. Why did I do this, specially when he has dementia? I really had no choice. The landlady of his earlier apartment wanted to increase the rent by 10% after an 11 month period (I assume she thought that we would be willing to pay anything given my father's state of health). I did not want to be held to ransom because of his age and illness and decided to move him. Tho' the new apartment is smaller and a little further away than the earlier one, I think it was a good decision. </span></div>
<br />
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: inherit;">Anna's apartment number is B-53, a simple enough number, but one he can not memorize. I looked at ways to help him remember and finally hit on memory association. </span><br />
<span style="font-family: inherit;"><br /></span></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
</div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: inherit;">Me: <i><span style="color: blue;">Anna, do you remember the famous bomber used by the Americans in the Cold War?</span></i></span></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: inherit;"><br /></span></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: right; text-align: justify;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhmS05z6AvFDK8UXekkc5WY8uF7m9xEysVChR3XJESIDuxgHMMKYdAFmBPvTJJ-9WRb3RYWyj5TaBrCJWYKoW-SyKpQplUXSJNdJzGufuemJ3RVYWRaMjgvX9cL8zLxJruWow4nvueKGEg/s1600/B-52-Stratofortress.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><span style="font-family: inherit;"><img border="0" height="209" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhmS05z6AvFDK8UXekkc5WY8uF7m9xEysVChR3XJESIDuxgHMMKYdAFmBPvTJJ-9WRb3RYWyj5TaBrCJWYKoW-SyKpQplUXSJNdJzGufuemJ3RVYWRaMjgvX9cL8zLxJruWow4nvueKGEg/s320/B-52-Stratofortress.jpg" width="320" /></span></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><a class="_Epb irc_tas i3598" data-noload="" data-ved="0ahUKEwiX_oixtKbSAhULvI8KHV4aCk0QjhwIBQ" href="http://www.aviationspectator.com/resources/aircraft-profiles/b-52-stratofortress-aircraft-profile" jsaction="mousedown:irc.rl;keydown:irc.rlk" rel="noopener" style="background-color: white; cursor: pointer; text-align: start; white-space: nowrap;" tabindex="0" target="_blank"><span class="irc_pt" dir="ltr" style="display: block; overflow: hidden; text-align: center; text-overflow: ellipsis; unicode-bidi: isolate;"><span style="color: #38761d; font-family: inherit; font-size: x-small;">Boeing B-52 Stratofortress</span></span></a></td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<span style="font-family: inherit;">Anna, of course, has no idea what I am talking about.</span><span style="font-family: inherit;"></span></div>
<br />
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: inherit;">Me: </span><i style="font-family: inherit;"><span style="color: blue;">Anna, do you remember the B-52 bomber?</span></i></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: inherit;"></span><br />
<span style="font-family: inherit;"></span></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: inherit;">Anna (brightening up): </span><i style="font-family: inherit;"><span style="color: blue;">Yes! It was the aircraft that dropped a nuclear bomb on Bikini Island.</span></i></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="color: #252525; font-family: inherit;"></span><br />
<span style="color: #252525; font-family: inherit;"></span></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="color: #252525; font-family: inherit;">Me: </span><i style="color: blue; font-family: inherit;">Wow Anna! I didn't know that. </i><span style="background-color: white; font-family: inherit;">Pause.</span><i style="color: blue; font-family: inherit;"> Now all you have to remember is that your house number is one better than the B-52 bomber. You are in B-53.</i></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="background-color: white; color: #252525; font-family: inherit;"><br /></span></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="background-color: white; color: #252525; font-family: inherit;">And often, over the months, we have used this association for him to remember his address and that he is in Sheikh Sarai, Delhi. </span><span style="font-family: inherit;">Three out of ten times when I ask him where he is he will say Delhi or </span>Sheikh<span style="font-family: inherit;"> Sarai. The other seven times he thinks he is in Bangalore or Boston, or Fremont, or Washington, or London.</span></div>
<div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="background-color: white; color: #252525; font-family: inherit;">Then one morning this week....</span></div>
<br />
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="color: #252525; font-family: inherit;">Me: </span><i style="font-family: inherit;"><span style="color: blue;">Anna, do you know where you are?</span></i></div>
<br />
<div style="text-align: justify;">
Anna (the master of hiding his disorientation): <i><span style="color: blue;">In a building.</span></i></div>
<br />
<div style="text-align: justify;">
Me: <i><span style="color: blue;">Yes, Anna. What is the address?</span></i></div>
<br />
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<div style="text-align: justify;">
Anna (still hiding disorientation): <i><span style="color: blue;">It is a nice place. Well done-up.</span></i></div>
<div style="text-align: left;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
Me: <i><span style="color: blue;">Yes, Anna. It is your house. What is the address?</span></i><br />
<div>
<i><span style="color: blue;"><br /></span></i></div>
</div>
I get no response after asking him this question three times. So I decide to use the memory-association we have used in the past.</div>
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEibn3OW5cxSfZgPDPeCL1UAGhPYMslxNqhRfmFTM1T2S60W1h4F7LEM9pxIERBdz82CHAEgfSbryhTuFQ6NWbgS2cv_5997S_LK0ROzO1WqbFcCvKUv8R6-4zWYvJxZ1u7d9BDUwoNZLcM/s1600/Unabomber+Times.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em; text-align: justify;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEibn3OW5cxSfZgPDPeCL1UAGhPYMslxNqhRfmFTM1T2S60W1h4F7LEM9pxIERBdz82CHAEgfSbryhTuFQ6NWbgS2cv_5997S_LK0ROzO1WqbFcCvKUv8R6-4zWYvJxZ1u7d9BDUwoNZLcM/s320/Unabomber+Times.jpg" width="244" /></a><br />
<div style="text-align: justify;">
Me: <i><span style="color: blue;">Anna, do you remember that your flat number is one better than that of a famous bomber? </span></i></div>
<br />
<div style="text-align: justify;">
This does not jog his memory.</div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
Me: <i><span style="color: blue;">Anna, do you remember the famous bomber from a long time ago?</span></i></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
Anna (looking confused): <span style="color: blue; font-style: italic;">Yes. </span>Pause.<span style="color: blue; font-style: italic;"> The Unabomber.</span></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
Yikes! He is thinking of a completely different bomber.</div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
I definitely think I haven't got this memory-association thing right!</div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
</div>
</div>
Sanghttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01972610394051964785noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3996292420517555335.post-13596120617542941332017-02-03T11:18:00.002+05:302017-02-03T11:18:31.511+05:30For The Benefit of Medical Science<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiMErR0s6R_tvh_BOuHhQ_nXezpoBX4HOYQd4BFBwKS2VOZuMYnHyEMDPfZDGJng98ZwelI7a9DbtuikpTxDa1nPrFAE6mP7mT-r26M1f6Wbt4LKsNM6jZ_iqtZBnQyVuw5UICKpelNx8Y/s1600/jaipur-lit-fest-10-years-2017.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" height="177" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiMErR0s6R_tvh_BOuHhQ_nXezpoBX4HOYQd4BFBwKS2VOZuMYnHyEMDPfZDGJng98ZwelI7a9DbtuikpTxDa1nPrFAE6mP7mT-r26M1f6Wbt4LKsNM6jZ_iqtZBnQyVuw5UICKpelNx8Y/s320/jaipur-lit-fest-10-years-2017.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
I return from the Jaipur Literature Festival on a real high. The sessions were great. My love for books and reading has been rekindled. And I have relaxed with college mates.<br />
<br />
I am away for just 4 days. I go to see Anna on the 24th morning at breakfast time. Anna is sitting at the dining table as I walk in.<br />
<br />
Me: <i><span style="color: #0b5394;">I'm baackkk!</span></i><br />
<br />
Anna is so focused on his upma that he does not hear me.<br />
<br />
Me: <i><span style="color: #0b5394;">Anna, I'm back from Jaipur.</span></i><br />
<br />
Anna (giving me a sideways upward glance): <i><span style="color: #0b5394;">Yes.</span></i><br />
<br />
Me (obviously expecting more excitement): <i><span style="color: #0b5394;">Anna, did you miss me?</span></i><br />
<br />
Anna: <i><span style="color: #0b5394;">You've been gone for 2 weeks!</span></i><br />
<br />
Me (in a conciliatory voice): <i><span style="color: #0b5394;">Anna, I've been gone for 4 days!</span></i><br />
<br />
He doesn't really believe me. In his reality, it has really been 2 weeks.<br />
<br />
<table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: left; margin-right: 1em; text-align: left;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhJzyrNI3WwmwFt81cw6RCoPLnOaui8goHgRhVyAfVgevTIzFDmLuIRLy6YdF9wxlpOi1RQX2vSps0615FCerMTkFIk4OXq3htVJnf6MUm6nGi7xnAhzVqztV0rO8z2ZopuvLlzfw6nXJg/s1600/26+Jan+2017.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhJzyrNI3WwmwFt81cw6RCoPLnOaui8goHgRhVyAfVgevTIzFDmLuIRLy6YdF9wxlpOi1RQX2vSps0615FCerMTkFIk4OXq3htVJnf6MUm6nGi7xnAhzVqztV0rO8z2ZopuvLlzfw6nXJg/s400/26+Jan+2017.JPG" width="373" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="color: #990000;">Photo Courtesy: The Times Of India</span></td></tr>
</tbody></table>
10 days go by with Anna in a daze or sleeping most of the time. The constant rain on 26th January does not help. He is cold and stiff. One evening when I go to see him, he can barely shuffle his way to the sofa from his bedroom and has to be carried by the attendant and housekeeper.<br />
<br />
Me: <i><span style="color: #0b5394;">Anna, you are very tired today?</span></i><br />
<br />
Anna: <i><span style="color: #0b5394;">Yes.</span></i><br />
<br />
Me: <i><span style="color: #0b5394;">Why are you so tired today, Anna?</span></i><br />
<br />
Anna: <i><span style="color: #0b5394;">There is a lot of work to do.</span></i><br />
<br />
Me: <i><span style="color: #0b5394;">What work Anna?</span></i><br />
<br />
Anna: <i><span style="color: #0b5394;">The entire area needs to be sanitized.</span></i><br />
<br />
Me (confused): <i><span style="color: #0b5394;">Sanitized? Oh, OK.</span></i><br />
<br />
Anna: <i><span style="color: #0b5394;">And my clothes need to be burnt.</span></i><br />
<br />
Me (huh?): <i><span style="color: #0b5394;">OoKayy !?</span></i><br />
<br />
I am wondering what is happening. What is Anna thinking about? I keep asking questions and I keep hearing about sanitization and the burning of clothes. Then.....<br />
<br />
Anna: <i><span style="color: #0b5394;">The cadaver can't be used now.</span></i><br />
<br />
Me: <span style="color: #0b5394;"><i>What cadaver Anna?</i></span><br />
I think that he is hallucinating about dead people. It's happened before and I know how to play along.<br />
<br />
Anna: <span style="color: #0b5394;"><i>My cadaver.</i></span><br />
<br />
Yikes! Anna thinks he is dead.<br />
<br />
Me (deciding not to dwell on his being dead but on the use of the cadaver): <i><span style="color: #0b5394;">Why is the cadaver of no use, Anna?</span></i><br />
<br />
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj4rw1KVzZQiVWbFqvCWAK5gq6a8_Po6CVTzzf2g0ENbffYlPZEwgzo1lA6NGnJqPTvNC3hvFqQUiOKfeCOd3qrBuCSF1MDXQm6uycbctk1LHhuaZAgFdeDDfRSkSygTTd_DjNizu-nAJw/s1600/human+organ+transplant.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" height="239" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj4rw1KVzZQiVWbFqvCWAK5gq6a8_Po6CVTzzf2g0ENbffYlPZEwgzo1lA6NGnJqPTvNC3hvFqQUiOKfeCOd3qrBuCSF1MDXQm6uycbctk1LHhuaZAgFdeDDfRSkSygTTd_DjNizu-nAJw/s320/human+organ+transplant.jpg" width="320" /></a>Anna: <i><span style="color: #0b5394;">Because I am too old.</span></i><br />
<br />
Me: <i><span style="color: #0b5394;">Anna, medical science can use a body of an elderly person to study the impact of ageing and age related diseases.</span></i> Not knowing more on the subject I feebly add - <i><span style="color: #0b5394;">And many more things.</span></i><br />
<br />
Anna (perking up a little): <i><span style="color: #0b5394;">Really?</span></i><br />
<br />
Me: <i><span style="color: #0b5394;">Really!</span></i> Pause. <i><span style="color: #0b5394;">Anna, you always wanted to donate your body and organs to medical science. You have it on your Do Not Resuscitate Order questionnaire.</span></i><br />
<br />
Anna: <span style="color: #0b5394; font-style: italic;">Yes. For the benefit of Medical Science.</span><span style="font-style: italic;"> </span>Pause. <span style="font-style: italic;"><span style="color: #0b5394;">But my old organs are of no use now.</span></span><br />
<br />
Me (waxing eloquently on a subject that I don't know much about) : <i><span style="color: #0b5394;">Anna, I am sure they can use skin, and retinas, and veins, and liver, and blood, and marrow. There are a lot of organs that can be harvested.</span></i><br />
<br />
Anna believes me.<br />
<br />
Now I've gotta go out and really study the area of organ and body donation. Got some names and numbers at AIIMS. Internet searches and doctors, here I come!</div>
Sanghttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01972610394051964785noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3996292420517555335.post-9623305817706814892017-01-19T09:46:00.001+05:302017-01-22T18:20:43.066+05:30Crossing Something Off My Bucket List<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhjj3F9jbLyS_dqo8okTe96shIEbCqD995JdUWtgT6Ww4CKcC2DzQvvmBRzFOIpSbj86WJTO4roda5c6QqaIfn-WSkZs9cQvy3SkbNIvdBQaFzQwZfULQhjvvjVrqKssVxS5poKNOvHlJM/s1600/jaipur-lit-fest-10-years-2017.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: inherit;"><img border="0" height="221" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhjj3F9jbLyS_dqo8okTe96shIEbCqD995JdUWtgT6Ww4CKcC2DzQvvmBRzFOIpSbj86WJTO4roda5c6QqaIfn-WSkZs9cQvy3SkbNIvdBQaFzQwZfULQhjvvjVrqKssVxS5poKNOvHlJM/s400/jaipur-lit-fest-10-years-2017.jpg" width="400" /></span></a><br />
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: inherit;">One would expect that I would be super excited about doing something on my bucket list. Of course! But with that excitement comes worry. Before I talk about worrying, let's talk about what I am going to tick off my bucket list.</span></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: inherit;"><br /></span></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: inherit;">For years, I have wanted to attend the Jaipur Literature Festival. And for years I haven't. I haven't because of the same dreary reasons we use all the time - "I can't take time off from work", "I don't want to go alone", "I forgot to register", "I haven't booked a place to stay". And as a caregiver, there is the additional excuse of "Who will look after my father?"</span></div>
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj7oVF48jpKjsax27Un2kZc9kSoMzGvcX0hbVMTfjwJMVPtYMoFwV1tlX2t7gB4vpv9VsDHBPZuD1PsvxTJzgLeVwkc9n7kmyKAsVl9NSqKIsDDhVZctfc0hyphenhyphen4ROugr76agcQggeCVM1fA/s1600/Bucket+List.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: inherit;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj7oVF48jpKjsax27Un2kZc9kSoMzGvcX0hbVMTfjwJMVPtYMoFwV1tlX2t7gB4vpv9VsDHBPZuD1PsvxTJzgLeVwkc9n7kmyKAsVl9NSqKIsDDhVZctfc0hyphenhyphen4ROugr76agcQggeCVM1fA/s400/Bucket+List.jpg" width="210" /></span></a><br />
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: inherit;">Most primary caregivers (including me) will tell you that being a caregiver often leaves us feeling that our lives have come to a stop. There is only care-giving. Our minds are more than just occupied, they are packed to the brim and overflowing. Overflowing with thoughts of medicine, therapies, patient daily activities, nutrition, entertainment, emotional support, dealing with emergencies & demands. We live in a world of "what-ifs" & "Oh hell". It feels like slowly drowning in quicksand.</span></div>
<span style="font-family: inherit;"><br /></span>
<br />
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: inherit;">It took me a long time to overcome what I call "the caregiver's <span style="font-size: 14px; text-align: start;">Chakravyūha</span>" (a <span style="font-size: 14px; text-align: start;">multi-tier defensive formation that looks like a blooming lotus or disc when viewed from above.</span> <span style="font-size: 14px; text-align: start;">The warriors at each interleaving position would be in an increasingly tough position to fight.). We war with </span>"I have so much to do to be a (perfect) caregiver" and "there is no time to do all that I need to do" adding "I need to also ensure that other commitments don't fall thru' the cracks" and wanting to do something purely for myself, by myself. And that causes guilt. When it shouldn't.</span></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: inherit;"><br /></span></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: inherit;">It took me time to break out of this unending spiral-trap </span><span style="font-size: 14px; text-align: start;">Chakravyūha</span><span style="font-family: inherit;">. I did, and so I am off to the Lit Fest with college-mates (Santana and Aradhana). Whoopee!! I am so excited.</span></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: inherit;"><br /></span></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: inherit;">I decide to tell Anna that I will be gone for 5 days.</span></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: inherit;"><br /></span></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: inherit;">Me: <i><span style="color: #b45f06;">Anna, I am going to Jaipur.</span></i></span></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: inherit;"><br /></span></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: inherit;">Anna: <i><span style="color: #b45f06;">Why? Do you have work there?</span></i></span></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: inherit;"><br /></span></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: inherit;">Me (for a split second I think of saying "yes" but don't) : <i><span style="color: #b45f06;">No Anna. I am going to the Jaipur Literary Fest.</span></i></span></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: inherit;"><br /></span></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: inherit;">Anna: <i><span style="color: #b45f06;">Why?</span></i></span></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: inherit;"><br /></span></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: inherit;">A simple question needed a simple answer.</span></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: inherit;"><br /></span></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: inherit;">Me: <i><span style="color: #b45f06;">Because I like books. I like reading. I write.</span></i></span></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: inherit;"><br /></span></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: inherit;">Then there is a long pause. I expect that Anna, as usual, will ask me who will look after him. He doesn't.</span></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: inherit;"><br /></span></div>
<table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: left; text-align: justify;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiiHd_Bu74zff6Q0m4x-lhTfAR1f7HsuZMLwCLxU9jkYcOj0qiu3bOxObuBL5KrQMCI3fdUpuS3WsEsqPpiV4Fhft3gtiuD3xSLqF1z9mAc_umK5PVEwGJZf_Vbmr3BllG1UPYXdOBKVqU/s1600/duffle+bag.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><span style="font-family: inherit;"><img border="0" height="214" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiiHd_Bu74zff6Q0m4x-lhTfAR1f7HsuZMLwCLxU9jkYcOj0qiu3bOxObuBL5KrQMCI3fdUpuS3WsEsqPpiV4Fhft3gtiuD3xSLqF1z9mAc_umK5PVEwGJZf_Vbmr3BllG1UPYXdOBKVqU/s320/duffle+bag.jpg" width="320" /></span></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: inherit; font-size: xx-small;"><span style="color: #0b5394;">Anna had a grey leather duffle bag like this one. His "last minute bag".</span></span><br />
<span style="font-family: inherit; font-size: xx-small;"><br /></span></td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: inherit;">Anna: <i><span style="color: #b45f06;">Sangeeta, I need a "last minute bag".</span></i> Anna has always called cabin baggage as "last minute bag".</span></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: inherit;"><br /></span></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: inherit;">Me: <i><span style="color: #b45f06;">Anna, you are not going anywhere. Why do you need a "last minute bag"?</span></i></span></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: inherit;"><br /></span></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: inherit;">Anna: <i><span style="color: #b45f06;">I should have one. What if we have to travel?</span></i></span></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: inherit;"><br /></span></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: inherit;">Me: <i><span style="color: #b45f06;">Anna, you need a "last minute bag" if you are travelling. You are not. I am.</span></i></span></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: inherit;"><br /></span></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: inherit;">Anna (still thinking he is going to travel): <i><span style="color: #b45f06;">I need a place to keep my things.</span></i></span></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: inherit;"><br /></span></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: inherit;">Me: <i><span style="color: #b45f06;">What do you want to keep in the bag Anna?</span></i></span></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: inherit;"><br /></span></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: inherit;">Anna: <i><span style="color: #b45f06;">Lots of things.</span></i> Pause. <i><span style="color: #b45f06;">My toothbrush & toothpaste. Shaving kit. A change of clothes. My pajamas. Bedroom chappals.</span></i> </span></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: inherit;"><br /></span></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: inherit;">Me: <i><span style="color: #b45f06;">And a towel.</span></i></span></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: inherit;"><br /></span></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: inherit;">Anna: <i><span style="color: #b45f06;">And a towel. And emergency medication.</span></i></span></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: inherit;"><br /></span></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: inherit;">He remembers everything that he used to pack. And forgets that he thought that he was travelling with me!</span></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: inherit;"><br /></span></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: inherit;">So, I am off. Sanjiv, my husband, is going to hold fort. </span></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: inherit;"><br /></span></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: inherit;">I am not going to worry. I am not going to feel guilty. I am going to enjoy myself to the hilt. Just the anticipation gives me a high.</span></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: inherit;"><br /></span></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: inherit;">Jaipur ......... Brace yourself!</span><br />
<span style="font-family: inherit;"><br /></span>
<br />
<div style="text-align: right;">
<br /></div>
</div>
</div>
Sanghttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01972610394051964785noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3996292420517555335.post-75316860453045872332017-01-12T12:46:00.001+05:302017-02-02T19:23:43.291+05:30You are Schtopal<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
<table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: right; margin-left: 1em; text-align: right;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi3kcWZZpI7wxD78t_8ZasSNn12Eu26zYvDA1M20PEZD7FZlDpbusUdsmZ50fPwdAFIt_zrXjoipS1Njkx3xzEL3K6YMn5YKYJwCrx72g1NP9tmOlyiwDSr-l2lDgBqwase1KgziDq1ANg/s1600/20161227_181113.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi3kcWZZpI7wxD78t_8ZasSNn12Eu26zYvDA1M20PEZD7FZlDpbusUdsmZ50fPwdAFIt_zrXjoipS1Njkx3xzEL3K6YMn5YKYJwCrx72g1NP9tmOlyiwDSr-l2lDgBqwase1KgziDq1ANg/s320/20161227_181113.jpg" width="180" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="color: #741b47;">Anna, all bundled up</span></td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
My father is definitely slowing down. Earlier he could shuffle-walk to the big park behind his apartment. Now he barely gets to the gate of the colony. Previously we had more hours of wakeful cogent conversations. Now when I do have cogent conversations that last for 30 mins, I call it a good day.</div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
As usual, last Sunday morning I decided to take Anna out for coffee. He was waiting patiently, sitting at the dining table for me at 11am, our usual hour.</div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
Me: <i><span style="color: #38761d;">Anna, are you ready to go out for coffee?</span></i></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
Anna: <i><span style="color: #38761d;">Yes.</span></i></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
Me: <i><span style="color: #38761d;">Anna, where do you want to go? To Starbucks in the mall or to the Barista where we sat outside with Mamta and the family last weekend?</span></i></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: left; margin-right: 1em; text-align: left;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj7UGXMGaTWzS4EZU6JOBd8vza0iEjZ8u0NswyCSnbJFu9tMkDQzJdvwbWmO5US_H5V2UgE-6EcYOMZCZV7lJ-UVsGMBJgtSBYj58VyghZ0A2GjTBaWB5QnnvE8jQWvKRtis7xCkC9wcZE/s1600/Barista+IIT+Gate.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj7UGXMGaTWzS4EZU6JOBd8vza0iEjZ8u0NswyCSnbJFu9tMkDQzJdvwbWmO5US_H5V2UgE-6EcYOMZCZV7lJ-UVsGMBJgtSBYj58VyghZ0A2GjTBaWB5QnnvE8jQWvKRtis7xCkC9wcZE/s320/Barista+IIT+Gate.jpg" width="240" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="color: #741b47;">Barista at SDA Market</span></td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
Anna: <i><span style="color: #38761d;">Say again!</span></i></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
Me: <i><span style="color: #38761d;">Anna, do you want to go to the mall or sit outside and drink coffee?</span></i></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
Anna: <i><span style="color: #38761d;">Outside.</span></i></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
I check that he is warmly clothed (something I check each day!), focusing on number of layers vs thickness of woolens. He says he is feeling quite warm. And off we go!</div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
At Barista, he shuffles to a table outside the cafe, waits patiently for his coffee and treat. Today we have a double treat - coffee with Irish Cream flavoring and a paneer, corn, & cheese turnover. We chat about mundane things. And about his illness and the restrictions it places on him. It's like a "repeat it" game. He asks me to repeat questions and responses and I do.</div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: right; margin-left: 1em; text-align: right;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgT8CyhicRcoAIr853at9z6da5rR_3yaP7KmySgniYPVbPzExG3XoguxL50FKN426H6D37vJsupN8ioJTNuioZye0WTqSGCSXXiukGd5km8_Trv_LAc5cZ7AfgXWFWtExKO8qEtzdDVrzE/s1600/begumpur+park+fm+socity.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="180" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgT8CyhicRcoAIr853at9z6da5rR_3yaP7KmySgniYPVbPzExG3XoguxL50FKN426H6D37vJsupN8ioJTNuioZye0WTqSGCSXXiukGd5km8_Trv_LAc5cZ7AfgXWFWtExKO8qEtzdDVrzE/s320/begumpur+park+fm+socity.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="color: #741b47;">Begumpur / Vijay Mandal Park</span><br />
<span style="color: #741b47;">Photo Courtesey: http://so.city</span></td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
After coffee and a paneer, corn, cheese turnover I ask him if he would like to go to the "really big park". He says yes, and we drive to it. That is the easy part. Getting him thru' chained gates, walking down an incline and wheeling his wheelchair on rough red sand takes effort. But, what the heck, he loves the 3 km "walk" in the park.</div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
On our way home, here is how our conversation goes:</div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
Anna: <i><span style="color: #38761d;">Sangeeta, you are great!</span></i></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
Me: <i><span style="color: #38761d;">Really? What did I do?</span></i></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
Anna: <i><span style="color: #38761d;">You are great!</span></i></div>
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<br /></div>
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Me: <i><span style="color: #38761d;">Thanks Anna. But you have to say that! You are my father.</span></i></div>
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Anna: <i><span style="color: #38761d;">No, I don't have to say that.</span></i></div>
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Me: <i><span style="color: #38761d;">Fathers always think their children are great.</span></i></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjcN3yDWKb3ajET1ry3Ph-coyznncy1OG4abBZ5OafXEV-tDeAcHvR_QhrEBoaJKAaLU-4vju5D3xO6HeNbakAXaUDPA7EOPGQ4A3a_u0ede0ApY5mY64IO_t_YKCdaH157X7vDjzhyxME/s1600/Memory+fragmants+have+no+Coherance.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="187" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjcN3yDWKb3ajET1ry3Ph-coyznncy1OG4abBZ5OafXEV-tDeAcHvR_QhrEBoaJKAaLU-4vju5D3xO6HeNbakAXaUDPA7EOPGQ4A3a_u0ede0ApY5mY64IO_t_YKCdaH157X7vDjzhyxME/s400/Memory+fragmants+have+no+Coherance.jpg" width="400" /></a></div>
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This goes on for a while. Then Anna changes tack.</div>
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Anna: <i><span style="color: #38761d;">You are very patient.</span></i> </div>
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Me: <span style="color: #38761d;"><i>Yes Anna, I am.</i></span></div>
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Anna: <i><span style="color: #38761d;">You have listened and replied to all my questions and comments today.</span></i></div>
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Pause.</div>
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Anna: <i><span style="color: #38761d;">You are schtopal.</span></i></div>
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Me: <i><span style="color: #38761d;">Schtopal? What does that mean, Anna?</span></i></div>
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Anna: <i><span style="color: #38761d;">I don't know. But it says what I mean.</span></i></div>
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I have no clue what he wants to say. I think of all the possible words in Tamil, Kannada, Hindi, and English that "schtopal" sounds like, but for the life of me I cannot come up with a single word or phrase. I even google it with no luck. Yet Anna is clear that it describes what he wants to say.</div>
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Perhaps Anna's Parkinson's and Dementia brain is creating a new language!</div>
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Sanghttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01972610394051964785noreply@blogger.com18tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3996292420517555335.post-69596615274080370092017-01-05T16:22:00.002+05:302017-01-05T16:24:04.890+05:30' Tis The Season Of Dry Skin<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiuqCgmMbAHqeli8oxK811X2VNmCaozjBlTW-HRXKOIN1oIQPsnVtfeobYnJDy3dsAzo5Y-XapqEUzxxyThM8mkZMvqmxjDxdLT8hR55r_P_I7oXbAyo6k1UKv4yEam9O9CamAeEvmkdGY/s1600/Snake+Skin+Shedded+1+fm+WonderopolisDOTorg.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;"><img border="0" height="212" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiuqCgmMbAHqeli8oxK811X2VNmCaozjBlTW-HRXKOIN1oIQPsnVtfeobYnJDy3dsAzo5Y-XapqEUzxxyThM8mkZMvqmxjDxdLT8hR55r_P_I7oXbAyo6k1UKv4yEam9O9CamAeEvmkdGY/s320/Snake+Skin+Shedded+1+fm+WonderopolisDOTorg.jpg" width="320" /></span></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="color: #990000; font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: x-small;">Shed Snake Skin. Photo Courtesy http://wonderopolis.org</span></td></tr>
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<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">Early in October last year Anna's skin started to flake. And when I say flake, I really mean flake. His legs looked like they had dandruff. Not loose dandruff that can be brushed off. It was skin pealing but still attached by a tenuous skin-thread. And it was more on his legs than his arms; while his face looked well moisturized (like that of a baby's)! </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;"><br /></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">I teased him a couple of times that he was shedding like a snake. The first couple of times he did not react. Then one day he says, <i><span style="color: #38761d;">"It can't be like a snake's. We would be able to see a continuous sheath of skin. You have to find another term."</span></i> And so I did. I just called it flaked skin!</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;"><br /></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">I wasn't sure if I should run off to the doctor. I asked Anna if his skin itched and he said, <i><span style="color: #38761d;">"No."</span></i> As the skin was not broken / cracked and it was not itching I decided not to make a trip to the doctor. I decided to research the internet and find solutions.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;"><span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;"></span><br /><span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;"></span></span></div>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh8FJnTw09UpUgC7w3JvepvrciZBfNE_0vTfU77MSXY32PIp3g_4DUXM9cqZf8UMFeojcCkN_WlRXbUChI0z-YYz4TVrl9tX7sYL6GQ0-NqN40s3vJWPEg9H9rpvB9Oxsg5ufxMBPIGJVY/s1600/Dry+flaky+skin+on+leg+fm+wwwDOTichthyosisDOTorgDOTukSLASHwendy.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;"><img border="0" height="150" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh8FJnTw09UpUgC7w3JvepvrciZBfNE_0vTfU77MSXY32PIp3g_4DUXM9cqZf8UMFeojcCkN_WlRXbUChI0z-YYz4TVrl9tX7sYL6GQ0-NqN40s3vJWPEg9H9rpvB9Oxsg5ufxMBPIGJVY/s200/Dry+flaky+skin+on+leg+fm+wwwDOTichthyosisDOTorgDOTukSLASHwendy.jpg" width="200" /></span></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="color: #990000; font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: x-small;">Dry flaky skin on leg. Photo Courtesy<br />http://www.ichthyosis.org.uk/wendy</span></td></tr>
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<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">One of the primary reasons for dry skin in the elderly is the absence of oil glands. Also, all my research told me that Anna had to avoiding hot baths, use a moisturizing soap, not use a heater / air conditioner, moisturize skin with a hydrophobic ointment / lotion, drink lots of water and avoid alcohol. All of which he did.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;"><br /></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">Anna is massaged everyday with mustard oil. We use a gentle glycerin soap for bathing. After a bath, he is again massaged with a Vaseline / coco butter lotion. Nothing worked to improve his skin. Then I decided to replace the lotion with coconut oil. And voilà, in 2 days all his flaking skin was gone! I couldn't believe it! It was again soft and wrinkly smooth. Now I could happily tell Anna, <i><span style="color: #38761d;">"Your skin is more baby soft and smooth than mine!"</span></i></span></div>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEitIH3jQi-GkTy8SzhWhBKgDCAHYqOYqDyu-RrQgitEVMrMRn0z8hzVkb8xa-Wch3VpQT0xVHJImjFDEIHhCBDd74SNI6hk3YV-ZS-K19QkpjSahcWUq-LDsfIkg2O1Zm0ebDuhm0hKDBQ/s1600/Coconut+Oil+Parachute.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEitIH3jQi-GkTy8SzhWhBKgDCAHYqOYqDyu-RrQgitEVMrMRn0z8hzVkb8xa-Wch3VpQT0xVHJImjFDEIHhCBDd74SNI6hk3YV-ZS-K19QkpjSahcWUq-LDsfIkg2O1Zm0ebDuhm0hKDBQ/s320/Coconut+Oil+Parachute.JPG" width="259" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="color: #990000; font-size: x-small;">My Parachute Coconut Oil</span></td></tr>
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<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">I have struggled with dry skin all my life. It is so bad that I even get dry patches on my stomach and back. When I saw coconut oil work so well with Anna, I decided to use it myself. Even tho' I did not like the smell of coconut oil on my skin, I bore the ever-so-slight discomfort for the health of my skin. And it worked! Surprisingly well!</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;"><br /></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">I was so pleased with the effect of coconut oil, that at the first opportunity I got, I proudly pulled-up the sleeve of my shirt and showed Anna my arm.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;"><br /></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">Me: <i><span style="color: #38761d;">Anna, look at my arm. Is it looking different?</span></i></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;"><br /></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">Anna: <i><span style="color: #38761d;">It looks like your arm.</span></i></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">Me (running my nail over my forearm): <i><span style="color: #38761d;">Anna, see my skin is no longer dry.</span></i></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;"><br /></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">Anna: <i><span style="color: #38761d;">How come?</span></i></span></div>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEihwkkjgSQKadr3voG6Afxv6M3QEIEIfqA0ep8G-GmCFY2nh3kzGlgIny5z75lAx5W5g8t_6Ydil__FeF0WxuBTxQKbRRUgM-_TkrJTO2CloJ9rj7pBTBR9G466c8IDSZvHQs7ub3C-lfk/s1600/20161227_181113.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEihwkkjgSQKadr3voG6Afxv6M3QEIEIfqA0ep8G-GmCFY2nh3kzGlgIny5z75lAx5W5g8t_6Ydil__FeF0WxuBTxQKbRRUgM-_TkrJTO2CloJ9rj7pBTBR9G466c8IDSZvHQs7ub3C-lfk/s320/20161227_181113.jpg" width="180" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="color: #990000; font-size: x-small;">Anna sleeps as his face shines!</span></td></tr>
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<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">Me: <i><span style="color: #38761d;">Anna, I used coconut oil. Just like we used on you.</span></i></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;"><br /></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">Anna: <i><span style="color: #38761d;">I hope it was pharmaceutical-grade coconut oil.</span></i></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;"><br /></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">Me: <i><span style="color: #38761d;">No Anna. I used Parachute coconut oil.</span></i></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;"><br /></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">Anna: <i><span style="color: #38761d;">You should only use </span></i></span><span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;"><i><span style="color: #38761d;">pharmaceutical-grade coconut oil.</span></i></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;"><br /></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">Me: <i><span style="color: #38761d;">Why Anna?</span></i> </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;"><br /></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">Anna: <i><span style="color: #38761d;">You are young. You should use only pharmaceutical-grade coconut oil. Your skin has to last longer.</span></i></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;"><br /></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">Me (I giggle a little at being called "young"): <i><span style="color: #38761d;">OK, Anna.</span></i></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;"><i><span style="color: #38761d;"><br /></span></i></span>
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<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;"><i><span style="color: #674ea7;">---- We continue to use a variety of techniques and lotions to keep Anna's skin moisturized and soft.</span></i></span><br />
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;"><i><span style="color: #674ea7;">As I do for mine. </span></i></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;"><i><span style="color: #38761d;"><br /></span></i></span></div>
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Sanghttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01972610394051964785noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3996292420517555335.post-13310349533479066212016-12-30T10:28:00.000+05:302017-02-02T19:24:18.569+05:30Singing Elephants (With A Cobra Thrown In!)<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiwNBUHKnwa07byWYfXyHhN_nWjDR_TaenhPGeDp5K7K1WrmkdlviGSLWxsNZAe6bcKCizTqI-CopIiDsJW-VlSNFoYEs9y7XI5Ny-k_E5Go2ajmfxpPUrbknTO7u0lyUMAadWaTcu6I2w/s1600/Dancing+Elephant+fm+wwwDOTinquisitrDOTcom.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiwNBUHKnwa07byWYfXyHhN_nWjDR_TaenhPGeDp5K7K1WrmkdlviGSLWxsNZAe6bcKCizTqI-CopIiDsJW-VlSNFoYEs9y7XI5Ny-k_E5Go2ajmfxpPUrbknTO7u0lyUMAadWaTcu6I2w/s320/Dancing+Elephant+fm+wwwDOTinquisitrDOTcom.JPG" width="275" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="color: #674ea7; font-size: x-small;">Dancing Elephant. Photo Courtesy: inquisitr.com</span></td></tr>
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<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;">After a long, mentally exhausting day working, I reach Anna's house just after 5pm. That's the normal time he wakes up after his early evening nap. He is still in bed but awake.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;">Me: <i><span style="color: #b45f06;">Anna! You awake?!</span></i></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;">Anna (Looking up at me with a bright face and big smile): <i><span style="color: #b45f06;">Bandiya-amma?</span></i> (Loosely translated from Kannada it means - "You have come").</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;">Me (smiling back at him): <i><span style="color: #b45f06;">Yes Anna.</span></i></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;">Anna: <i><span style="color: #b45f06;">When did you come from Salem?</span></i></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;">Me (realizing he is thinking of someone else): <i><span style="color: #b45f06;">I came from Delhi, Anna.</span></i></span></div>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhOVXRZrpMGWKO3_v2DaDcfOjTmHdVzN4z0zzBAU-rWF09fKsKm2Dfd8uRzO6kJLporNmyPf6i2uy37v7Tj0DzaN7bknVDfbZwbVAd2pIiavwFR9DH_Y5-ROD4ROAsiC9AhVwDkdZPE-m8/s1600/Singing+Elephants+fm+John+Lund.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="222" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhOVXRZrpMGWKO3_v2DaDcfOjTmHdVzN4z0zzBAU-rWF09fKsKm2Dfd8uRzO6kJLporNmyPf6i2uy37v7Tj0DzaN7bknVDfbZwbVAd2pIiavwFR9DH_Y5-ROD4ROAsiC9AhVwDkdZPE-m8/s320/Singing+Elephants+fm+John+Lund.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="color: #674ea7; font-size: x-small;">Singing Elephants (c) John Lund</span></td></tr>
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<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;">Anna (still smiling): <i><span style="color: #b45f06;">You missed the elephants singing.</span></i></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;">Me (deciding to play along): <i><span style="color: #b45f06;">Really? What were they singing?</span></i></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;">Anna: <i><span style="color: #b45f06;">They were singing so well! Melodious songs.</span></i></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;">Me: <i><span style="color: #b45f06;">Oh good! Where were they, Anna?</span></i></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;">Anna (pointing to the roof and high up on the walls): <i><span style="color: #b45f06;">Here in the room.</span></i></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;">Me: <i><span style="color: #b45f06;">That's nice.</span></i></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;">Anna: <i><span style="color: #b45f06;">They often come and sing for me.</span></i></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;">Me: <i><span style="color: #b45f06;">Really Anna? How often do they come and sing for you?</span></i></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;">Anna: <i><span style="color: #b45f06;">Every other day. Some days they come and some days they don't.</span></i></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;"> Me: <i><span style="color: #b45f06;">Anna, what do they sing?</span></i></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;">Anna: <i><span style="color: #b45f06;">Beautiful songs.</span></i></span></div>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhdGmJPUPdFu-90B-q_qD8bcMuhTaOf1YEqVfdl0cEQm0AmurRDBhFrc9D94SRIA-ftK7IjVtjvFQe8oiWhxk4gDglDKU-q3YHN7wNe6gSrYme9dlahXu0SOJKysnT0bHfKb_D_hdUzcuY/s1600/Singing+Baby+Elephant+fm+Kurt+Halsey.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhdGmJPUPdFu-90B-q_qD8bcMuhTaOf1YEqVfdl0cEQm0AmurRDBhFrc9D94SRIA-ftK7IjVtjvFQe8oiWhxk4gDglDKU-q3YHN7wNe6gSrYme9dlahXu0SOJKysnT0bHfKb_D_hdUzcuY/s320/Singing+Baby+Elephant+fm+Kurt+Halsey.jpg" width="256" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="color: #674ea7;">Photo Courtesy: Kurt Halsey</span></td></tr>
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<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;">Me (by now I am also smiling): <i><span style="color: #b45f06;">Anna, do they trumpet-sing or do they sing like us.</span></i></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;">Anna: <i><span style="color: #b45f06;">They sing like us. Beautiful songs. With music.</span></i></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;">Me: <i><span style="color: #b45f06;">That is so nice for you Anna.</span></i></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;">Anna's eyes move away from me.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;">Anna (pointing to the corner of the ceiling diagonally opposite from him): <i><span style="color: #b45f06;">Oh see! One of them is there looking at us.</span></i></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;">Me (looking up to where he is pointing, looking for an elephant on the ceiling or wall): <i><span style="color: #b45f06;">Yes Anna. Do you think he will sing again?</span></i></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;">Anna: <i><span style="color: #b45f06;">I don't know. He is just smiling at us. He is also happy.</span></i></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;">Me: <i><span style="color: #b45f06;">That's nice Anna.</span></i> Pause. <i><span style="color: #b45f06;">Do you want to get up and have coffee.</span></i></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;">Anna: <i><span style="color: #b45f06;">Yes.</span></i></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;">At the sound of coffee, Anna perks up more - as if that is possible in his happy mood, caused by singing elephants in his room! We lift Anna off his bed and help him shuffle to the dining room.</span></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiARWXDF_zEEX9T2DqevPn1oxupbQKskzsMQpzhDIIdMcMQCihhRvKtAWuSGpY-kqwny1oCm8x2TQxzb-Pk915kyStAgFtwabI6cw30ONXObcXtUIANv-AQAkUx0nZVFBFpMWEKBASwmrI/s1600/King+Cobra.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" height="238" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiARWXDF_zEEX9T2DqevPn1oxupbQKskzsMQpzhDIIdMcMQCihhRvKtAWuSGpY-kqwny1oCm8x2TQxzb-Pk915kyStAgFtwabI6cw30ONXObcXtUIANv-AQAkUx0nZVFBFpMWEKBASwmrI/s320/King+Cobra.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
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<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;">Anna: <i><span style="color: #b45f06;">I haven't seen the black king cobra for some time.</span></i></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;">Me (confused with the move from elephants to cobras): <i><span style="color: #b45f06;">What cobra Anna?</span></i></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;">Anna: <i><span style="color: #b45f06;">The one who comes and dances for us sometimes.</span></i></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;">Me: <i><span style="color: #b45f06;">Really Anna?</span></i></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;">I look at Anna's attendant and housekeeper, confusion writ all over my face. They nod.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;">Anna: <i><span style="color: #b45f06;">Yes. Is it because it is raining?</span></i></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;">Me: <i><span style="color: #b45f06;">Anna, it is not raining.</span></i></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;">Anna: <i><span style="color: #b45f06;">I should ask the elephants why the cobra hasn't come.</span></i></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;">Me: <i><span style="color: #b45f06;">Yes Anna. Do that the next time they come to sing for you.</span></i></span></div>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjAiv2FkXvAH3ghBHaPT9ryieVV6QwL-iOJ6O1xrZwWW5buBHMM7bITdfkMeraADhGQ3ZGgU_aTVITlUzit02E1Csap-B5Lyn6f7io27pQ2Im1Uo-SdDClPQLog7VcMtuIGsHVR4rJOPjI/s1600/jaangiri+from+eatsofindiaDOTblogspotDOTcom.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="150" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjAiv2FkXvAH3ghBHaPT9ryieVV6QwL-iOJ6O1xrZwWW5buBHMM7bITdfkMeraADhGQ3ZGgU_aTVITlUzit02E1Csap-B5Lyn6f7io27pQ2Im1Uo-SdDClPQLog7VcMtuIGsHVR4rJOPjI/s200/jaangiri+from+eatsofindiaDOTblogspotDOTcom.jpg" width="200" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="color: #674ea7; font-size: x-small;">Jaangiri<br /> Photo Courtesy: eatsofindia.blogspot.com</span></td></tr>
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<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;">Anna's coffee arrives. His bother has sent a big box of jaangiri, laddu and boondi for him and I open it to ask Anna what he wants to eat. Of course, he chooses the jaangiri! And eats it with glee. And forgets the elephants and cobra.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;">And I? I drink my coffee and feel completely relaxed.</span></div>
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Sanghttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01972610394051964785noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3996292420517555335.post-46741458263777200922016-12-23T09:05:00.000+05:302016-12-23T09:09:09.004+05:30One Foot Up And The Other Down<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgs66ANNDX9_PRiFGsOiKFvnp5Xkf93syUxatlueA6yDLr6IibJgyt-xqY9nPxPJMtIyu20dH2mvQq2zqLqI49rC0cYxsnXKJoH0Tgw4877iYtD1aflB9Yc-P7egCN5WGz7XRfr5JxncNc/s1600/salt-mustard-seeds-red-chillies-to-ward-eveil-eye+fm+astropeepDOTcom.gif" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;"></span></a><br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhbP7SvpSzPBzxcsPgnmH7pQKIqelVfdPJkhqgxHJUEO_OT32ZZ0WHJUMQarubZtk_Xnk82L1sQnqPyRljUT-T_I6bbAlwQScgJUb0pjgEG_ZJvRldnkNeRw-e31HqdgZa7_4h4hr3tiiM/s1600/salt-mustard-seeds-red-chillies-to-ward-eveil-eye+fm+astropeepDOTcom.gif" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhbP7SvpSzPBzxcsPgnmH7pQKIqelVfdPJkhqgxHJUEO_OT32ZZ0WHJUMQarubZtk_Xnk82L1sQnqPyRljUT-T_I6bbAlwQScgJUb0pjgEG_ZJvRldnkNeRw-e31HqdgZa7_4h4hr3tiiM/s1600/salt-mustard-seeds-red-chillies-to-ward-eveil-eye+fm+astropeepDOTcom.gif" /></a></div>
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<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;"><span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;"><span style="color: #333333;">The evil eye has fallen on Anna - </span><span style="color: #333333;">Anna</span> को नज़र लग गया !! </span></span><span style="color: #333333; font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;">Go grab 3 </span><span style="color: #333333; font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;">red dry chilies, some rock salt, and mustard seeds. Close your fists and rotate your fists over Anna's imaginary head. The right fist clockwise and then the left fist, anti-clockwise. Repeat to complete three sets. Then burn the contents of both fists on a hot tawa!! Don't tell me if it smokes and stings your eyes or not! I will just assume it worked. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;"><span style="color: #333333; text-align: justify;">But jokes apart, let me tell you why I say, "Anna </span></span><span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;"><span style="color: #333333; font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;">को बुरी नज़र लग गया". </span></span><span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif; text-align: left;">Since August this year, I have been unable to take Anna out for coffee every weekend as I used to. Not because Anna or I don't want to. Its because he is lethargic or sleeping on weekends. So 2-3 weeks can pass before I manage to take him out. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;">So this December, after a couple of weeks of trying to take Anna out, we finally manage to go to </span><a href="http://www.selectcitywalk.com/" style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;" target="_blank">Saket Select Citywalk</a><span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;">. I've been prepping him for days. Telling him about our planned coffee outing, reminding him of the cookies and muffins he likes. The attendant spends the morning telling Anna again and again that we are planning to go out. I know this may seem like a lot of planning and enthusiasm for a coffee outing, but it is a big thing.</span></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiPd_MiRxjqRvJMRp7M9m8PQKSv8QGQZrpCQIYqjCWCMg1nIRicKUqKchJFtG0-LO8FNhdzDZCWovj-ChPxSzW5rPlWDVh3vXhEXxrefCUW1GtOgKE4dXbfrvxL5pSQfDb8NGPhu2nLZRM/s1600/Handicap+Parking.png" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiPd_MiRxjqRvJMRp7M9m8PQKSv8QGQZrpCQIYqjCWCMg1nIRicKUqKchJFtG0-LO8FNhdzDZCWovj-ChPxSzW5rPlWDVh3vXhEXxrefCUW1GtOgKE4dXbfrvxL5pSQfDb8NGPhu2nLZRM/s1600/Handicap+Parking.png" /></span></a></div>
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<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;">Anna is bright and awake. We park at our usual place in the P1 handicapped parking area. I ask Anna if he will walk or does he want to be driven in "his BMW"? (Anna affectionately refers to his wheelchair as his BMW). Anna, says he will walk. We shuffle-stop-shuffle-stop-shuffle slowly into the mall. I chatter on about the sights, from the mundane (the trophy case) to the exotic (decorations). I am just trying to keep him involved (and awake).</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;">Anna is very interested and curious. He notices everything. We stop after a few shuffling steps for him to catch his breath and converse. </span></div>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiS2CinSYWrQzSNvLjlg4KkVkRIXe53T1-kvyjJF1iXEO494NBtxorbcYb7v5QoxWZUyLuijR7ovXXArKQceamDZi_Lrt2Q2KOxEnhHsVvEY1YPR5l2DSKrXesNXFHLOT2wO6gZpB1quOY/s1600/Select+City+Walk+Atrium.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;"><img border="0" height="227" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiS2CinSYWrQzSNvLjlg4KkVkRIXe53T1-kvyjJF1iXEO494NBtxorbcYb7v5QoxWZUyLuijR7ovXXArKQceamDZi_Lrt2Q2KOxEnhHsVvEY1YPR5l2DSKrXesNXFHLOT2wO6gZpB1quOY/s320/Select+City+Walk+Atrium.jpg" width="320" /></span></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="color: #741b47; font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif; font-size: x-small;">Saket Select Citywalk Atrium</span></td></tr>
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<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;">Anna: <i><span style="color: #0b5394;">What are those small windows?</span></i></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;">Me (looking at the new google phone and tablet display in the atrium): <i><span style="color: #0b5394;">Anna, those are not windows, those are phones on display.</span></i></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;">Anna: <i><span style="color: #0b5394;">Very large phones.</span></i></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;">Me: <i><span style="color: #0b5394;">Yes, Anna.</span></i></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;">Anna: <span style="color: #0b5394;"><i>People can build muscles using the phone. Two benefits for the price of one.</i></span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;"><span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;"><b>What??</b> </span><span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;">We shuffle some more.</span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;"><br /></span></div>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiXT5njl_sbUtvrgPIKJuFzq3kH_q9MH6OC6IF8bdIuAIaIMjfquo1dg_aaTCk_fjwnkJ6l6uuUH3KvbllRz87t5KfE4U_ovL3lW6reYL3v2IGKXpFEzrbrqq-3UM8fMooxiz9fdqZvHz8/s1600/Mahatma+Gandhi+with+Manuben_Right+and+Abha.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;"><img border="0" height="242" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiXT5njl_sbUtvrgPIKJuFzq3kH_q9MH6OC6IF8bdIuAIaIMjfquo1dg_aaTCk_fjwnkJ6l6uuUH3KvbllRz87t5KfE4U_ovL3lW6reYL3v2IGKXpFEzrbrqq-3UM8fMooxiz9fdqZvHz8/s320/Mahatma+Gandhi+with+Manuben_Right+and+Abha.jpg" width="320" /></span></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="color: #741b47; font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif; font-size: x-small;">Mahatma Gandhi with Manuben and Abha</span><br />
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<div style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;">Anna: <i><span style="color: #0b5394;">This floor is so bright.</span></i></span></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;"><span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;"></span><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;"></span></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;">Me: <i><span style="color: #0b5394;">Bright Anna?</span></i> Pause. <i><span style="color: #0b5394;">Yes, it is shining.</span></i></span></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;"><span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;"></span><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;"></span></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;">Anna: <i><span style="color: #0b5394;">Bright and shining. Means the same thing when we talk about a floor.</span></i></span></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;"><br /></span></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;">Me: <i><span style="color: #0b5394;">Yes Anna.</span></i></span></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;"><br /></span></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;">Anna: <i style="color: #0b5394;">I have to be careful. </i>Pause. <i style="color: #0b5394;">I may slip.</i></span></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;"><br /></span></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;">Me (referring to me and Anna's attendant): <span style="color: #0b5394;"><i>Don't worry Anna, you are being supported by two people.</i></span></span></div>
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<div style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;"><br /></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;">Anna (referring to Mahatma Gandhi and his grandnieces Abha and Manuben): <i><span style="color: #0b5394;">How Gandhi-esque!</span></i></span></div>
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<div style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;"><br /></span></div>
</div>
<div style="text-align: left;">
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;"><b>What???</b> I don't want to get into the controversy surrounding Gandhiji and his grandnieces, and hence encourage him to walk (shuffle) some more.</span></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;"><br /></span></div>
<table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: right; margin-left: 1em; text-align: right;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjp5MlelsOg23Ls3ctqNGsTNwbAIFynBvbd3D_LfpJ_CmPdCj3_rilpY8sZ1GTwtVJPl3Cn0ePSTZvGcQStV4xk1n5F0j7g8ubXquYl2eIkUXZgN-CFnDrcFHgQrGv64nN4NV2bqXr1uoo/s1600/Nursery+Rhymes+of+England.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjp5MlelsOg23Ls3ctqNGsTNwbAIFynBvbd3D_LfpJ_CmPdCj3_rilpY8sZ1GTwtVJPl3Cn0ePSTZvGcQStV4xk1n5F0j7g8ubXquYl2eIkUXZgN-CFnDrcFHgQrGv64nN4NV2bqXr1uoo/s400/Nursery+Rhymes+of+England.JPG" width="250" /></span></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="color: #741b47; font-size: x-small;">The Nursery Rhymes of England:<br />Obtained Principally from Oral Tradition<br />By James Orchard Halliwell-Phillipps</span></td></tr>
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<div style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;">Me: <i><span style="color: #0b5394;">Anna, you are walking a lot today. Aren't you tired?</span></i></span></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;"><br /></span></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;">Anna: <i><span style="color: #0b5394;">No. I can walk more.</span></i></span></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;"><br /></span></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;">Me (impressed by his stamina): <i><span style="color: #0b5394;">What did you eat for breakfast today?</span></i></span></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;"><br /></span></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;">Anna is confused by this statement. </span></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;"><br /></span></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;">Me: <span style="color: #0b5394;"><i>Anna, if you talk a lot, then people ask if you had alphabet soup for breakfast. So if you walk a lot, I ask what you ate for breakfast.</i></span></span></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;"><br /></span></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;">I think this is too convoluted for Anna. It is. He just quotes a poem he and his brothers were purportedly taught for an entire semester in junior school.</span></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;"><br /></span></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;">Anna: <a href="https://books.google.co.in/books?id=OZAOAAAAYAAJ&pg=PA152&lpg=PA152&dq=one+foot+up+and+the+other+foot+down+that%27s+the+way+to+london+town&source=bl&ots=T-m9w7o00U&sig=pb5Ixyvxd0blomJZkCxkWOKYMkg&hl=en&sa=X&ved=0ahUKEwjPlaq6r8vQAhVPv5QKHWzwCbAQ6AEISDAI#v=onepage&q=one%20foot%20up%20and%20the%20other%20foot%20down%20that's%20the%20way%20to%20london%20town&f=false" target="_blank"><i><span style="color: #0b5394;">One foot up and the other down, that is the way to London town.</span></i></a></span></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;"><br /></span></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;">Me (not even thinking of the dichotomy of London Town referring to an US Company's brand!): <i><span style="color: #0b5394;">That's right Anna. One foot up and the other down. </span></i> </span></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;"><br /></span></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;">By now we are nearing Starbucks. What a feat!!! For a man who walks barely 100m on any given day.</span></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;"><br /></span></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;">Me: <i><span style="color: #0b5394;">Anna, can you see Starbucks?</span></i></span></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;"><br /></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;">Anna (tilting his head a bit): <span style="color: #0b5394;"><i>No. Where?</i></span></span></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;"><br /></span></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;">Me (pointing to Starbucks, which is just ahead): <i><span style="color: #0b5394;">Anna, can't you see the green logo?</span></i></span></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;"><br /></span></div>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEia3gpTPLPXMG-U5aG2gtVUg5Fmg-hLl7U1yNeZDrDcA684bFfO15V9tdyopLCyBoUg-0z6qs5m3T0goZd-vL-ZjRjeeW0v9jBcxtJraH4ef6Yo-JApd31iNqJd85h0LKU5VXO_eYwMYrk/s1600/Anna+decimates+an+oatmeal+and+raisin+cookie+Nov+2016.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="225" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEia3gpTPLPXMG-U5aG2gtVUg5Fmg-hLl7U1yNeZDrDcA684bFfO15V9tdyopLCyBoUg-0z6qs5m3T0goZd-vL-ZjRjeeW0v9jBcxtJraH4ef6Yo-JApd31iNqJd85h0LKU5VXO_eYwMYrk/s400/Anna+decimates+an+oatmeal+and+raisin+cookie+Nov+2016.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="color: #741b47; font-size: x-small;">Anna decimates an oatmeal and raisin cookie at Starbucks</span><br />
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<div style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;">Anna (squinting a little): <i><span style="color: #0b5394;">Hmm! It doesn't matter if I can see the logo. I can smell the coffee. That is most important.</span></i></span></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;"><span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;"></span><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;"></span></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;">It sure is!!</span></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;"><span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;"></span><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;"></span></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;">The smell of coffee propels him to Starbucks and a table (they still do not have tables that are wheelchair friendly). He sits with a loud sigh. And then goes on to demolish a oatmeal and raisin cookie after drinking a cappuccino.</span></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;"><br /></span></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<div style="text-align: center;">
<span style="color: #741b47; font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;"><i>Caregiving sure feels like endless days of "one foot up and the other foot down"!</i></span></div>
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Sanghttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01972610394051964785noreply@blogger.com6tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3996292420517555335.post-18841927879639695122016-12-04T16:46:00.000+05:302016-12-04T16:46:22.176+05:30My Father, The Feminist<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><img border="0" height="200" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhFbHuTZrh-obL7sgYKquCYylHTAAwcrMB7TQK2C6kGVFqPkvJV6XK9YiI2N7HhsrRb_KlY56y_YxYFQmGpH1araXCqUuEetTah3ThwA3I5xPc7a1RR5HcDutkdyzUC67OaHRu3KZYXMsc/s200/logo_yellow_pony.jpg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;" width="150" /></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: x-small;"><span style="color: #674ea7;"><br /><a href="https://www.facebook.com/DiversityDialogs/?fref=ts" target="_blank">Diversity Dialogs</a>' Logo</span></span></td></tr>
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<div style="text-align: justify;">
I continue to chat with my father on gender and gender diversity.</div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
A little more background on my father, Anna. He was born into a family that was not well off, with 10 children (7 of them girls). His mother was a strong woman. As were many of his sisters. He saw and lived thru' the struggles of his mother and his sisters (and there were many). I think his perspective on equal rights for women came from some of those experiences.</div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
Anna insisted that we all study what we want and for however long we want. That we ask questions. That we experience the different. And that we work and became financially independent. Tho' Amma, my mother did not work, Anna and Amma would always say to us, <span style="color: #783f04;"><i>"Do whatever you want. Just ensure you earn enough to support yourself."</i></span></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
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<div style="text-align: justify;">
Here are some more snippets of our dialogs.</div>
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<h3 style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="color: #6aa84f;">Snippet 4 - The right to worship</span></h3>
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</div>
<div style="text-align: left;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiVkAVC-ZrzFSyHtTBwwcPwK05cDFBYyMQtdWEs5TgDmGU9zdznPAfJby0L2DZz6PuKm3Lq8uT4eG181x3PXMPdplOve8BAvKia7H1xfIvLDv5Klie-vqNW43uzBYOkysuL_BbpZkEsnho/s1600/haji-ali-dargah_650x400.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em; text-align: justify;"><span style="color: black;"><img border="0" height="196" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiVkAVC-ZrzFSyHtTBwwcPwK05cDFBYyMQtdWEs5TgDmGU9zdznPAfJby0L2DZz6PuKm3Lq8uT4eG181x3PXMPdplOve8BAvKia7H1xfIvLDv5Klie-vqNW43uzBYOkysuL_BbpZkEsnho/s320/haji-ali-dargah_650x400.jpg" width="320" /></span></a></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: left;">
<div style="text-align: justify;">
Anna and I watch the news of women entering Haji Ali after 5 years.</div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
Anna: <span style="color: #783f04;"><i>What is happening?</i></span></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
Me: <span style="color: #783f04;"><i>Anna for many years, women have been fighting legal battles and protesting to get equal access to places of worship. Like to Sabarimala, Haji Ali, Shani Shingnapur.</i></span></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
Anna: <span style="color: #783f04;"><i>Why?</i></span></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
Me: <span style="color: #783f04;"><i>Anna, women believe that they have as much right to worship their Gods as men do. And that religious institutions can not restrict them based on gender.</i></span></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
Anna: <i><span style="color: #783f04;">But every religion has the right to manage its religious affairs. How did this change? Was it the court?</span></i></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
Me: <i><span style="color: #783f04;">Anna, I understand that the Dargah Trustees listened to the Supreme Court and made provisions to enable women and men to worship at Haji Ali.</span></i></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
Anna: <i><span style="color: #783f04;">It is a good start. I hope that other religions and shrines learn from this and make worship equal for all.</span></i></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="color: #3d85c6;"><br /></span>
</div>
<h3 style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="color: #6aa84f;">Snippet 5 - The Treatment of Widows</span></h3>
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<div style="text-align: justify;">
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhZiOGxGYjq4gnYCwTS3UHzNs6XIQ-aw6P4BebLrISrmtLEQaJqDGPMWMQSxFTPgvi-M8PqHRcpCnp6to6UpH3i7u4k1Y8ECBrvbrW8dfS-do2xY4ooj3gokv2AG__5CAwp22F0AK5jJIk/s1600/still+from+the+flm+Water+bt+Deepa+Mehta.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="217" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhZiOGxGYjq4gnYCwTS3UHzNs6XIQ-aw6P4BebLrISrmtLEQaJqDGPMWMQSxFTPgvi-M8PqHRcpCnp6to6UpH3i7u4k1Y8ECBrvbrW8dfS-do2xY4ooj3gokv2AG__5CAwp22F0AK5jJIk/s320/still+from+the+flm+Water+bt+Deepa+Mehta.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="color: #38761d; font-size: x-small;">A child widow. From the movie "Water"</span></td></tr>
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<div style="text-align: justify;">
Anna: <i><span style="color: #783f04;">Only in Hinduism do we uglify our widows.</span></i></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
I am sure there is no such word as "uglify" in the English language, but I let it pass. I am sure that the conversation will be more interesting than correct English.</div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
Me: <i><span style="color: #783f04;">Anna, why do you think that widows are treated so badly?</span></i></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
Anna: <i><span style="color: #783f04;">It was a way to subdue widows. Their heads were shaved. They were made to wear drab white. They were starved. Kept hidden away from people. All this was to make sure that no one would find her attractive and marry her. It was a way to keep wealth and property in the family.</span></i></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
Long Pause.</div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
Anna: <span style="color: #783f04;"><i>How could we forget that she was a daughter and sister first, and then a wife and mother. Treating your daughter, sister, or mother so badly is against humanity.</i></span></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
Long Pause. </div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
Anna: <i><span style="color: #783f04;">Relationships are more important that state of a person.</span></i></div>
<div style="text-align: left;">
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
</div>
<h3 style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="color: #6aa84f;">Snippet 6 - One Child Can Make A Change</span> </h3>
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<div style="text-align: justify;">
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjNL-WG9-VafLDS0oNoDdJ0FNheQIT34EqySPkbxm0Y5dFAaoJYu7IlLJsMzEL-IjMdr1KxmWk3GnmN28ZqfcQmW65JVRt94pRqYJ2rvyan89FSujKna0_ZIIW-zCBl6efo_6W3bAB0gGY/s1600/PR+Krishnarao.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjNL-WG9-VafLDS0oNoDdJ0FNheQIT34EqySPkbxm0Y5dFAaoJYu7IlLJsMzEL-IjMdr1KxmWk3GnmN28ZqfcQmW65JVRt94pRqYJ2rvyan89FSujKna0_ZIIW-zCBl6efo_6W3bAB0gGY/s320/PR+Krishnarao.JPG" width="246" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="color: #38761d; font-size: x-small;">My maternal grandfather, PR Krishnarao</span></td></tr>
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Me: <i><span style="color: #783f04;">Anna, you remember the story about Daddy and his mother?</span></i></div>
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Daddy was what we called our maternal grandfather.</div>
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Anna nods his head. I get the feeling that recalling the story is too much of a strain for him. So I retell him the story.</div>
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Me:</div>
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<i><span style="color: #783f04;">Anna, remember Daddy lost his father when he was very young. He was brought up by his widowed mother in his uncle's house. Daddy was sent to a nearby school to study.</span></i></div>
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<i><span style="color: #783f04;">When he was 8 or so, he had his first "exam". Being a studious boy, Daddy studied hard for his first examination test.</span></i></div>
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<i><span style="color: #783f04;">On the day of the exam, as he was leaving the house, Daddy looked everywhere for his mother. He wanted to see her face and get her blessings, but she was nowhere to be found. Finally, he heard her sobbing behind a locked door. When he asked her to come out so that he could see her face before he went for his exam, Daddy was told by his uncle that he could not see his mother. After all Daddy's first real exam was an auspicious occasion and it could not be cursed by even the shadow of a widow. His mother was considered the widow who had brought bad luck to the family and hence she would bring Daddy bad luck.</span></i></div>
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<i><span style="color: #783f04;">However, that 8 year old boy did not listen to the "curse of the widow". Stubbornly he told his uncle that he would not go to school for his exam if he could not see his mother's face and get her blessings. Threats were made, doomsday tales of perpetual ill luck were told but Daddy would not be swayed. He sat outside the locked door and would not budge. Till finally his uncle relented and opened the door. Daddy saw his widowed mother's face, asked for her blessings, and ran all the way to school, reaching just in time for the test. And he did extremely well.</span></i></div>
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<i><span style="color: #783f04;">As the story goes, after that day, no one in the house could ever claim that his widowed mother was the harbinger of bad luck.</span></i></div>
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Anna is slowly nodding his head as I recount this story and smiling a little. He has probably heard this story a thousand times.</div>
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Anna: <i><span style="color: #783f04;">See, even an 8 year old child can cause change. That is what we need. One child, one change, one family at time.</span></i><br />
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<i style="text-align: right;"><span style="color: #674ea7;">.... Watch this space for more snippets as our dialoging continues</span></i></div>
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Sanghttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01972610394051964785noreply@blogger.com2