deviousways

The other day, I went looking for an ordinary pair of scissors and found a Chota bheem scissors pack, complete with several multi-coloured removable blades. Made in China, naturally. I've seen toys sold in Channapatna bearing 'Made in China' labels. Practically every toy available in mainstream toy shops, even those that come free in 'Happy Meal' pouches, also share the same place of origin. But the Chota Bheem rip-offs, the Channapatna fakes? That goody-two-shoes cartoon character, so quick with his fists and so beloved of Indian boys (and girls), is the product of a desi animation house. And Channapatna lacquer is part of our heritage. Yet the Chinese are already there and happily exploiting an eager market.  Yes the Chinese are experts at faking it. How else do you think regular girls and women afford Louis Vuittons and Diors and Chanels? Not that I'm complaining. The big brands can certainly take some competition when it comes to fleecing people. If a wo...

Farheena was just 10 and a half when she attained puberty. Doctors told her mother Farida Rizwan to get a hysterectomy done. Because Farheena is a special needs child--she has cerebral palsy and some mental retardation. “I was told a hysterectomy will help me avoid all the hygiene issues surrounding her menstruation,” said Rizwan, who was based in Byndoor, a coastal town in Udupi district in Karnataka, at the time. The mother later found out that some local parents had already done the uterus-removal operation for their own young, special needs daughters. But she refused. “I kept asking doctors what side effects she would experience if they did such a surgery at her age. I never got an answer,” said Rizwan. Today, Farheena is 18. She lives in Bangalore with her mother and older brother Rayyan (22) and she attends a special-needs school in south Bangalore. The teenager is active on FaceBook, plays games on her mother's iPad and remarkably, for a special-needs person,...

"You don't know me at all," I shouted. I threw the words at him. And he responded, "well, you don't know me either". We were caught up in one of our verbal duels Hurling hurtful things at each other. Wanting to wound the other To lessen each others' pain. But we forgot a child was watching and listening Looking on as the two people who make up his world Tore it down, word by word. We have done this before, you know He has seen us angry He has seen me hysterical. He has seen his father cry. Why are we so easy to anger? Why do we shout, rant and rave Knowing he is there. I am ashamed of us. Of how we have wounded, our not-yet-five-year-old child. For already, we are changing him by our actions, our words Today, when I went to pick him up from school He was happy, playing with his friends. Till I asked if he needed to use the restroom Or something as innocuous as that. And our little boy responded: "No, I don't need to ...

Wake up now, it's going to be late Wake up please. No, I can't come and be with you I'm making your snack for school. So get up, you know you have to go to school. (to be honest, I need you to go, more than you need to go!) Eat up now, quickly. Chew, no, no...I said CHEW Don't just swallow everything down! Hurry up, the time's a-ticking. A quick wash. Stay still, let me smoothen your hair Stay STILL, for a minute! You don't want to wear this shirt? What's wrong with it? What the...Great, I've got a pint-sized sartorialist here! Alright, alright, you can wear those pants for the nth time No, no, just put on your crocs, Why, oh why, do you want those shoes? Sheesh, you're so late, they're gonna lock the gates Okay, finally. Bye then. Have fun. Yes, baby, I'll have fun too. Why does he put up with me? I'm not terribly patient. Every morning, I become a 'lecturemama' Do this, don't do that. But guess wh...

Little man looks at the world so differently. He's making me see things I never noticed before.  And ordinary, every day stuff I take for granted Seems so much more beautiful, suddenly. When I make him toast, I lavish butter on it. And he calls the end product, 'butter bread'. To me, that sounds so much lovelier Than plain ol' toast. I gave him raisins to eat this morning, He offered me some too. Now, me I really don't like 'em. I prefer raisins in cakes. But little man told me "Amma, have one, it's very 'honeyliss", (as in delicious) I totally loved that word. Describes the sweetness of a raisin perfectly. How do children do this? Get to the heart of a thing or an object. And see what we adults don't. That it's a thing of beauty, and joy. So what if it's only plain ol' toast?