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Showing posts with the label children

Book Review: Is A Worry Worrying You? By Ferida Wolff and Harriet May Savitz

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What an excellent and important this little book is! This is a book that I would gladly recommend to all the grown ups and all the children alike because everyone worries and mostly no one knows how to deal with it. The author not only addresses the many guises that often the smallest of worries dons on and comes knocking or to use a phrase from the book 'has no manners and barges in'. I loved the way the author has given everyday causes and symptoms that any child might be able to relate to, to explain what does a worry feel like, how it can manifest itself as a physical ailment or a mental block and how to conquer it. The fact that Wolff and Savitz have not only spoken about how and what causes worry-a bully, first day of school, fear of sleeping alone to name a few- but also the ways in which it can be tackled, makes the book a keeper to be reached out for when you are feeling a little lost as a parent or even as an individual. The illustrations on my Kindle probably

The dilemma of reading the abridged versions

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I grew up in a small town- Palampur- in Himachal Pradesh in the 80s and 90s. I was the only child in the house for quite sometime and was surrounded by adults- my maternal grandparents and uncles and aunts as well as doting neighbours of the now dead phenomenon called the mohalla.  My grandfather who was fondly called Bauji by everyone, owned an electronics shop, the kind which sells you tube lights and fans and switches. Right next to him was a bookshop. Nothing big or glamorous by any means or standards but more like a rectangular box out of which came all sorts of stationery, chart papers and comics, some college course books  as well and ah how could I forget the copies and more copies of Rapidex English Speaking Course. I was often sent over to my grandparents' house because my parents were both working. I can't recall my age at the time, but I must have been grown up enough to read very well because when Would begin to get on my grandmother's nerves, I would be b

A case for non-fiction or better understanding of kidlit

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If you are a parent there are more chances than one that YOU have handed your child a book to read. Or you have chosen to bring home the books that you think that she might like to read. If any of these hold true then we are almost alike and no this is not an article that tells you how wrong you have been all along in bringing your child the books that you choose. This is just a few of my thoughts on this very subject that I gathered today morning as I wrote an Instagram post. Let me begin at the beginning. Today my soon to be 4, son sat down with a book and was at it for good 10-15 minutes. No, it wsn't a tome. It wa a small picture book on trucks. My friend gifted him this book on trucks on his first birthday. The chap was fascinated with it from the moment he got it. You could flip pages and see bright pictures of different types of trucks and then you could open little sliding screens to find out men in uniform who drove a certain kind of truck. Unsurprisingly his first

In The Supporting Role

Today was the first time I used the salon services of Urban Clap. My beautician was a woman named T Mondol. She was of 32 years, married with a daughter aged 16 and a 5 year old son. This is her story: I ran away from my home and married the boy I loved when I was in Class 9. At 16, married for a year, I gave birth to my daughter. I knew nothing much about anything. My husband was an only son. I had an elder brother and doting parents who fended for me. I don't know why I ran away but I did and this is a fact. Maybe, I am paying for my that mistake now. My husband works as a driver and he did not make much money. My father-in-law drives a rickshaw in Sonarpur. He, my father-in-law said, I should learn something. Just in case, his son abandoned me, he added. I asked my husband to give me some money so that I could learn this work in Gariahat. He refused saying that he would earn enough to sustain the three of us. My mother-in-law was also opposed to the idea of me stepping o

A Decade of Motherhood: :Lesson 2

Raising a child might be easy for people who have either seen something similar like people with older siblings raise their offspring(s) or people who haven't sleepwalked through their lives. For me having a child for which I was responsible thoroughly has been like roller coaster ride in an adventure park. So far. (But now, with some added experience, I can vouch that nothing is going to change.)  I just got up and took a seat on the conveyor belt without knowing anything about its twists or turns; loops or or having a clue about the time frame of zero-G suspension. As much harassing as it has been for both of us- the baby and  me- I have gathered a lesson or two at every bend. I have realised that as is with the roller coaster ride so it is with the child raising phenomenon. You can't do much more once the light turns green. Yes, you can fling your arms and scream your heart out, but you can not get out of the situation, unless you count abandoning your kid. (If that be

A Decade of Motherhood: Lessons I learnt (I)

A lesson that has kept rearing its head time and again in my journey of motherhood, of which I am going to complete 10 years in a couple of months, is something that I refused to learn till the very recent times. It is a lesson that my mother wanted me to adopt as soon as my daughter started to talk, walk, and defy. In short, being an independent child.  Today, it is this lesson that I wish I had the sense to adopt the first time my mother said it out loud to me. But then who would I be if not a common-sense-defying rebel! Or on the other hand maybe this is what makes motherhood such an adventure ride- the ability to gain sense and discover things which only experience can shower upon you.  The lesson that I am talking about has been worded by so many smart and intelligent people over the ages, that I can fill up pages with their quotes, but I am going to give you two of my favourites that spell it out the best for me. "Don't worry that the children never listen

Shoes that squeak

Imagine this scenario.  You are working on your laptop or in your kitchen on perfecting a recipe. You are a picture of concentration and focus. There is Zen like atmosphere around you. You are calmly forging ahead on your path. But then the very silence that was helping you work dedicatedly gives you shivers. You remember that for the last five minutes maybe seven, you haven’t heard your baby. Yes, you have also come out from Zen-o-sphere and remembered that you are a parent. If you actually have baby/ babies you will  know where I am getting, but for the uninitiated, let me tell you that no sound from an active, awake baby for more than a couple of minutes is a sure sign of trouble. In times like this, I think, mothers from all over the world are grateful to the fellow who invented the squeaky shoes. The ones that go chooon choooon and chooooon. These are the shoes that look so pretty and are lightweight but have real ammo- the sound, the alarm bell. Those shoes, my friend, ar

Lessons from the dance class

My daughter goes to learn Kathak. I wasn't very enthusiastic about the classes at the beginning. No, don't get me wrong. I am all for arts. I love dance and music myself and I always have wanted that my children should learn to do something amazing with their bodies and I think dance makes for a great starting point. Neither am I one of the few who would scoff at the cultural heritage of the country or someone who preferred the western ways more. I am a mother of two, aged 9 and 2 and when she announced she wanted to learn kathak, I just did not have it in me to take her for a weekly class, some 5 kms away from my house. My reluctance also arose from the fact that previous such endeavours (I started her on Bharatnatyam when she was 4/5). The weekly class had become a thorn in my side. She would not want to go to that class which was happening almost next door. She would cry and cry till the time I threw my hands in despair and gave up. It must have been some 8 classes spre

Random thoughts on a sleepless night

Amusing it is how a father is often concerned with how the child will make the ends meet while the mother has sleepless nights pondering whether the child will forever able to meet her eye in the mirror. There must be stories of role reversal. I wish I had the resources to say to my children, "Go on. Live. Don't follow the masses. See the world. Witness the miracles that exist in a day." Wo kaun se log hote hain who know what they want to make of their life. How do they know it? Where do they get the strength to do what the heart wishes for?

Mothers

Exasperated mothers Trying mothers Mothers who have too much on their mind. Mothers who think cake counts as a meal. Mothers who worry too much. Mothers who fly away so that their kids might follow. Mothers who stay put so that that their kids might get a solid platform. Mothers who love without being ever seen or heard. Mothers who let their children know they are there and theirs. Mothers who feed. Mothers who eat. Mothers who bleed. Mothers who get readily cut up. Mothers who become fathers, storytellers, advisors and sounding boards. Mothers who never get asked for their preferences or opinions. Mothers who are teachers. Mothers who are learners. Mothers who mother and mothers who smother. Tired mothers. Fresh as  a daisy mothers Yummy mummies, sporty mummies Mummies with tummies Tummy filling mummies every girl who becomes a mother lives life on the edge of a sword always on the verge of forgetting who she is and yet not having that luxury of forgettin

Notes from the book fair

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I could only go to the Kolkata Book Fair that ended yesterday... well yesterday.  I had made promises to myself and the husband that I will just go and look. I believed in my promise earnestly whereas he gave me the all-knowing smile and the nod of head which when I later ruminated over was meant to convey 'yes, yes we will see'. Anyway, there I was at the book fair sans the husband and the child. I entered the grounds with the stroll of someone who was on no agenda and was free to turn back and go any moment. Instead (and I do not really know how it happened) I spent around four hours bought 12 books of various size, colour, shape and subject. I did not realise when that aimless stroll of mine gained purpose. Maybe it was the need to cover every possible hall and stall or maybe it was the intention of checking out all the offers of the last day. I got drawn in by the books would be an understatement. I should probably say I was under the spell. This does not mean I regr