A Little Tact

Ponnu, the growing-up adult is good company. She brings about a lightness to situations.

A close relative came home for a visit. Her appearance had changed since the last time I had seen her, and that was some years ago. When I saw her, I commented on how different she looked now. She asked, "Have I changed a lot?" I said, "Of course, you have." Then, she asked the inevitable question. "Have I put on weight?" I replied, "Ya, loads of it too. You look very different now." My poor relative was saddened, and insisted, "My face is quite chubby, isn't it?" I just took off without considering what I was saying. "You know, your arms have become fat. You also seem to have shrunk in height." Ponnu's `Ma' got me turning to her side. "I think grandma is calling out to you."

I went in and realized it was just a ruse to get me out of the room. For Ponnu followed me. "How could you tell aunty she was fat?" "Hey, she asked me. I did not volunteer that information," I defended myself. "Not on, Ma. Just not on." I looked at Ponnu and decided to pull the right weapons from my armoury for an argument. "Ponnu, I was being honest. You don't expect me to lie, do you, and tell her, `You look the same'?" Ponnu laughed. "Ma, a little tact would have been better. Don't tell a lie, but don't say the truth in all situations."

One of my first guidepost to Ponnu was to always speak the truth, no matter what the stakes. I forgot to add tact.

Good Grades

If grades are the indicators of one’s progress, I have often wondered what my report card as a parent would say about me. Left to me, I would give myself `A Plus’-es. I like to think I am very good as a parent, open, friendly, willing to hear the other side, generous – oh, the adjectives are numerous. It also makes me happy just thinking about all those words that would describe a `nice Me’. It is nice to be self indulgent at times.

Are grades given keeping in mind the preference of the person who is being graded?! Ah, that would be a lovely way to do it, though. Ask, argue and then give some leeway to what the person is saying with regard to herself. It is like telling your boss, I think I deserve an x amount of raise while he smiles benevolently, which is an indicator that his `thinking’ is not on those lines at all.

I don’t really need a report card as a parent. Nevertheless, it would be nice to know what Ponnu has to say on this matter. After all I am her parent.

One day Ponnu announced my grade unexpectedly. “You know, you are a nice parent.” It came out of nowhere, without a context. So I asked the predictable, ‘Why?’ “You have so much patience Ma. I could never be as patient as you.” I have committed that moment to memory. Perhaps, one such unexpected day I might be told I have some other enviable attribute.

A Single Child

When one has an only child, there are well meaning relatives and friends who tell you your decision to have a single child is not quite right. “Single children grow up to be selfish, they don’t share their belongings with anyone. They throw terrible temper tantrums,” is what they believe and say. None of this could be wrong. But it need not be true as well.

I don’t think this thought bothered me at all for a child picks up what she is taught by parents and elders or what she sees the family doing. This is my belief.

When Ponnu was in school, there were times she exhibited traces of jealousy when I showed a fondness for a neighbour’s kid or was carrying a child too long in my arms. But never did she ever ask why she was an only child. Even when Ponnu was well beyond her teens, I still heard this comment from relatives who rued our decision to have a single child.

One day I decided to know Ponnu’s thoughts on the matter. “Would you have preferred a brother or a sister?” She replied, “To have them treating my books badly?” I said they would not, considering she was their sister. “You know, a brother or a sister for company,” I said. Her answer as usual amused me. “Ma, I would have preferred an elder brother.” Well, well, well!

Now when my relatives still shake their heads to a `single child’, I smile widely.

Just Live

One day I decided to broach the topic of death with Ponnu. My death, to be precise. I told Ponnu, when I die I would like my eyes to be donated. She said, "In that case, we will have to give your glasses with it. You can't see with your naked eyes, remember." I could not help but laugh at this reaction to a serious topic.

"It would be nice to give away my body to a medical school," I continued. I said I had heard of how difficult it is for the medical schools to get dead bodies. "Let me do something nice when I am gone." Ponnu decided to put a stop to the conversation then. "Ma, let me tell you, I am not doing anything that you are saying." I argued, "After all, it is my body. I can exercise that right over it." She looked at me for some time and then said, "I have a better idea. Why don't you just decide to outlive dad and me instead? Then you don't have to worry about anyone not honouring your wishes. Also, make sure you are healthy. That will be of help to the students you have in mind."

I have never discussed this topic with Ponnu since.

Feathered Friends

My grandpa and an uncle are my favourite people. They were part of my early childhood. I have always had fond memories of them. It has been years since they died but I remember and talk about them frequently at home.

When a person dies, crows are fed cooked rice as a ritual during the mourning period. I have associated crows with my grandpa ever since, for it was the first time I saw the ritual. My uncle told me a number of stories about grasshoppers. He also said it was a good omen to see one. Of course, they were tales made up to entertain me. Yet, a grasshopper is an instant connection with my uncle. On the rare occasions I see a grasshopper in the city, I can't help feeling very happy.

Ponnu and her dad know about my favourite people. It amuses them a lot to see me give food to the crows that at times perch on our window. When Ponnu sees a crow on the window she goes, "Hey Ma, your grandpa has come to see you."

A grasshopper jumped into our living room one night, just once, frightening Ponnu who is afraid of insects. Of course she does not admit to that. "I find insects icky," is her explanation.

Ponnu doesn't shoo off the crows that often visit our home. But the pigeons get her goat. "Ma, are the pigeons related to you?" she asked me once. I said that was a funny question. "Well, you have the crows and the grasshoppers. What about the pigeons?" I said, "No ways," still wondering the reason for the query. I soon got the answer. "Then I can shoo these pests off this minute. Thank god they are not your relatives."