Don't Be A Twelve Year Old

 

 This is a story of around 3 months ago- I was walking around in my classroom during our break hour, and I noticed some of my classmates crowded around a friend, who was crying. I wondered what exactly happened-had someone died, or did she receive some bad news about something? And I was told, "She got a C+ in one assignment." This may seem insensitive to some, but all I did was laugh. Yes, that's right, I discovered that day, and continued to discover over the next few weeks that I was in a class of twelve- year-olds. I say this, because I only remember being excited to receive As and A-pluses and crying over bad grades when I was in primary school. 

 

Picture Credit: clipartOf.com

It's not that girl's problem that she thinks that way, not even her parents' problem.(Well, maybe a little bit!) It's the problem of our educational system, a system that ranks students according to marks and grades as opposed to real talent and achievement. Of course, academic achievement is valuable, but is it not possible that even a genius can fare badly during exams? 

The problem of parents these days is that they always encourage their children to be the best at everything, score top grades, achieve high ranks and excel at whatever they do. How many parents embrace their children when they're faced with failure? I know mine do. Because my parents realise and have taught me that cent percent marks are not always necessary. It's good to fail. In fact, I feel every student should face failure atleast once in their lives. It's only after failing that one can experience the true taste of success, the true joy of achieving something good. For me, whether I get an A+ or a D+, I'm happy if I know that I attempted my best. Grades are all secondary; it's what, or how much you imbibed from the lesson or the lecture that matters the most.   

"a country like ours will continue to lag behind the West in knowledge and technique so long as we keep using mark-sheets and certificates to screen the young for further education and employment."

- Excerpt from an article in The Hindu, 9th August 2012

I love the movie 3 Idiots. Sure, it was entertaining, but what I loved more was the message it sent out to all the students and their achievement-hungry parents. If your child loves and wants to pursue literature, let him. If your best is a 60%, get that 60% and be proud of it. If you have a talent for something, pursue it. Life is too precious for us to cry over a C+, beg professors to increase grades, or scream and shout like a 10 year old on getting an A+. (Yes, my post graduate course is full of 3rd graders!) 

So if you're reading this, know that it's okay to fail at something you're not good at. Life is all about learning, about new experiences and enjoying each moment. Don't wallow in self pity on getting that C or missing that 90% by a whisker-it's just not worth it. Once you're done with your education, no one is going to ask you about that one D grade or the year you fared badly. All that counts is your talent, and the kind of person you are. 

P.S. I don't mean to hurt anyone's feelings, so if you're one of those who thinks that a 95% is necessary for your survival, hey, you're entitled to your opinion! :)

Housewife Duties

So I was flipping channels a few days ago, and came across a promo of a new show called "Housewife Hai, Sab Janti Hai". (How creative, I tell you!) But what caught my attention was a line that the actress says at the end...."Subah se shaam hum busy hai, aur aapko lagta hai housewife banna easy hai?" Truer words have not been spoken (on TV shows, atleast). As a child, and even a young teen, I always wondered why all my friends' mothers would go to work and all mine would do was sit at home and "chill". Well, contrary to my opinion, that's not what she did. It's hard, really, running a house all by oneself and bringing up two children. My father, all through my growing up years, would work almost six days a week so he was hardly there, except to sign report cards or to fulfill the occasional scolding quota when the mother's screaming just wouldn't work (Once he shouted at me so hard that I cried for two hours and went without lunch-but that's a story for another day).

I did always wonder what my mother did all day, why she didn't have any responsibilities, why all she did was scold us when we angered her and reprimand us when we were wrong. I experienced the feeling of being a housewife a few years ago, however, when my parents went for a  5 week holiday to Europe leaving me to run the house. (And within a week, all I wanted to do was run away from it!) What probably made it easy for me was that I had my summer holidays going on, so I was at home practically all day long.

Wise words from a great actress! Image Credit: izquotes.com

 

The most difficult part of running a house? Keeping track of bills and expenses and telling the maid what to cook! By the fifth day, I ran out of ideas and would just repeat the week's menu for the rest of the duration. Making sure the maids and servants arrive on time, keeping a tab on what is to be done each day, paying everyone's salaries and shopping for groceries are just some of the things I had to do. The time I spent running the house made me realise how tough really, my mother's job was - a job she'd been carrying out for 22 years. It got harder for me the next year, when my parents went on their annual holiday in September for five weeks, and I had to handle the house as well as attend college and do all my work. (No one was happier than me on 8th October, when they were back and I was finally relinquished from "Housewife duties"!)

You'd think then, after this long rant of mine, is that I never want to be a housewife. Far from it. I see myself working for a few years, yes, but I have it set in my mind that once I have my children, I will either work from home, or give up work altogether. I don't want to miss my children's growing up years, and have them spend all their time with maids and drivers. And neither am I one of those feminists who feels a sense of independence in earning one's own money or guilt in spending one's partner's money.

 The money is, after all, to bring up children and run a house well. (Maybe I can splurge some on myself once in a while, though! :P)

So for all those who have homemakers for mothers, don't ever think too little of them. Moms are just so good at it that they make it seem easy, but take it from me, it's one of the most difficult jobs in the world- and you don't get paid for it either! :P

P.S. I know I haven't posted in a while- but it's my Xmas resolution to blog regularly from now on! :)

The Perfect Resting Place

Heaven on Earth!- The Taj in all its glory

The first glimpse of the Taj Mahal makes one's heart melt. Truly a great Wonder of the World, I finally got a chance to visit Agra this May and see it with my own eyes. And boy, did I fall in love with it! Just the first view from the entrance took my breath away. One sees it in pictures, hears about its beauty, but the Taj truly has to be seen in person, for one to 'feel the love' within it.

Walking around the Taj Complex, taking in all the sights of beautiful Mughal designs and architecture, one really wishes that one was alive during the 16th century to experience the grandeur of the Mughal Era!  

View of the main gateway from a window of the Taj Mahal

The guide that took my cousin and me around was very knowledgeable- he told us probably each and every detail one would like to know about the Taj- how and why it was built, the significance of all the designs, the site of the Black Taj (if only Aurangzeb had allowed it to be made, we'd have one more beauty in Agra!) and the most fascinating of all-that the Taj is not a perfectly made monument. In Islam, the belief is that only God is perfect, so artists make a deliberate error in whatever they create. The Taj Mahal has one pillar that is squarish, as opposed to the rest that are rounded-proof that not even one of the most beautiful monuments made by man is totally perfect.  

Each and every place in the Taj complex is a treat to the eyes-there wasn't a single moment when I took my eyes off the Taj or its surrounding monuments. The beautiful pietra dura work on every wall-whether just the decorative designs or the Quranic Aayats- were done upto the tiniest detail, making one's jaw drop in awe. 

Pietra Dura work at the entrance to the tomb hallway

Mumtaz was a very lucky woman even in death-to have a husband who left his worldly duties to make a tomb that millions over the world would love and admire even centuries after its foundation. As my 18 year old cousin exclaimed as soon as we climbed the staircase leading to the main mausoleum-"I think I'm in love!"  I'm sure people from far and wide have similar sentiments towards this mammoth beauty-this Perfect Resting Place. 

The magnificent Taj Mahal Complex

"You knew Shah Jahan,

 life and youth, wealth and glory,

 they all drift away in the current of time.

 You strove, therefore,

 to perpetuate only the sorrows of your heart.

Let the splendour of diamond, pearl and ruby vanish

 like the magic shimmer of the rainbow. 

Only let this one teardrop,

 this Taj Mahal, 

 glisten spotlessly bright on the cheek of time,

 forever and ever". 

-Rabindranath Tagore

We'll Go Down In History....

-To the crazy bunch of historians of the Sem Room, 2011-2012! Historia Vitae Magistra-

As I wore the black robe and hat and got ready for my graduation photos, the memories of the past 10 months came rushing back. 'Twas the end of my final year in college, the best year of my life.

All the moments spent in my classroom on the ground floor (and stupid LR13 once a week!), whether spent laughing or in silence, in boredom or excitement, were truly 'historical'.

Watching stupid movies in Marathi and making fun of them, pretending to listen during a presentation but actually doodling in your notebook, studying for exams just a day before attempting them-the few moments that one can experience and be a part of, only during college years.

The best days of Third Year were those that were spent outside the classroom-Heritage Walks all over South Mumbai, museum trips, boat rides, bus rides, deciding the slogan for our sweatshirts, two AWESOME days in Khandala, hours in the miniscule room that was the Department of History, conversations on Facebook and for some people, making Anna Hazare posters and maps of Maharashtra and forts of Shivaji in the arches!!!

There were many people who made this year extremely memorable for me- my 'eveteaser' (yeah, I do have one), my "wanna-share-a-cab-home person", my all-of-us-always-sit-in-the-third-row friends, the girl-who-always-asks-questions friend, the quiet ones, the crazy ones, the can't-stop-making-jokes-about-everyone-and-everything friend and most of all, the one who sang to me during lectures-passed hilarious comments-hit me and pushed me-always made me laugh,-needed my scanner more than I did-and gave the squishiest hugs ever friend, my Brucelee!! (Yeah, she probably can deliver a mean Karate chop too...)

Ofcourse, it was all 24 of us 'Historians' that made these moments what they were. All those lectures, movie sessions, class presentations, parties, games and stupid conversations  will go down in history, as ten months truly well spent...!!