Skip to main content

Growing pains!

On my way to work I heard something on the radio , which kinda made sense! Mir said, he never compares his  9year old to what he was when he was 9 himself ! Strange , we all do that , at times.We grew up with " Ami jokhon tomar boyosher chilam...." and we say the same to our children ! I was trying to remember myself as a 20 something...cannot quite imagine Chibu being the same ...cos I married at 21..My choice (the mixed feelings came later).
In my class , Hamish commented "Wow! Was it allowed back then?" He made me feel almost medieval! Looking back,our generation had a free life really - of course the curfew orders were there, but I went to clubs, disco nights, movies, had boyfriends and not everything was hush! hush!
Looking back ,I feel our generation was more "emo", today's gen is more grounded- more focused- more aware...that' s because of the exposure and the tip-of -the - finger technology of course!
Actually Mir is right ! We cannot go by what we were and call a today's 9- years old as"paka tush tushe"!!!               
After all it's the Gen X..and like the song in Grease goes...conventionality belongs to yesterday...
So, to the growing pains ..over the generations....Amen!!

Comments

Post a Comment

Popular posts from this blog

Being an eagle mum!

I always told this story to my trainees. About being the Eagle mum. An eagle mum prepares the nest in two layers, first downy feathers and below that,the thorns. When it is time to fly she removes the downy feathers so that the fledglings who refuse to fly fall on the thorns and that makes them flap n fly away! Bhaskar always calls is cruelty, the bojjat mommy! But to me its a way to push one out of the comfort zone, for the world waits beyond! My kiddos moved out to their own place today. And despite being an eagle mum, I kind of miss the chatter. I knew in my heart I would miss having them around... But they need to find their wings!

The road may be narrow and dark

This write up came back with a note of regret – for not being able to make to the next round in the competition, to the editor's table. Well, this is the first time I competed , that is if I do not count the House Competition essay writing, where I came second after Champa. Actually I do not why I took part – chance, curiosity or plain gambling …..because writing for me has always been a catharsis – an expression that I can share …..So no regrets , really! The road may be narrow and dark…….. It was 1983 and life with Baba always veered on the unexpected and the adventurous. Like that road trip from Kolkata to Delhi via Agra. We had this faithful Ambassador that took us on this journey with Baba at the helm and our cleaner Kalipada as his first assistant. I was the official navigator and Giri uncle, my father’s friend, in charge of our ummm, let’s say security, since me and my cousin Dimpi, both all of 18,  needed an escort , officially. Baba always liked the un-tr

A holiday with self :)

A long overdue blog about the path that I was seeking , or did the path seek me out ? Over the years the sheen of belief was wearing off and I was beginning to question the master about the magic - about faith becoming commercial, about what Bhaskar stated, "This is all about money".  Packing my bags off and going solo isn't very uncommon in my life, but this time I was not on work per se. Checking-in into the Ashram, was on my bucket-list for ever-since, and it was an amazing experience. Despite the crowd, the ambiance just reverberated with a mix of reverence, energy , faith, hope, prayer - and questions too ! Like I mentioned before meditation was not about spiritual pyrotechnics, but a metaphor connected to life. Like the corner I chose had a vantage view of the stage and despite a stench that started emanating from the corner, I just could not leave that place, for the view that corner offered got me stuck there. Life is like that, we are often stuck in the rut ,