Saturday, March 15, 2008

Stars on Earth

Watched Taare zameen par the other day - amazing story! Thumbs up to Aamir bhai & Co.

"Every child is special" is the message to all parents. I agree, the story addresses one extreme - where the kid is dyslexic and the school and parents both, instead of identifying the problem, deem the kid as "abnormal"

But deep inside, aren't we all made different? Aren't we all gifted in one manner or the other, and probably would have been better off pursuing what we're "good at"? Yes and may be

I am all for parents helping their kids make the right choices in life until the kids are adult enough to sit in the driver's seat. I mean, that's what parenting about, right?

  • Kids are like small plants at first. They need care and feeding at every step. Even a ray of direct sun could wither them. So you look out for them

  • With time, the plants grow up a little. The stem shows some strength. It can take a little bit of sun and wind on its own. But you still look out for them - cause they're not there yet

  • Then the plants show some new colors - colors of youth! They stick their head out a bit. Even challenge the sunlight and winds once in a while. You let go a little, keep your distance. Watch mostly, and caress

  • And then as they say - one day - the plant looks more like a tree. Providing more than it takes in. Ready to serve its surroundings with fresh air and fruits and shade
You let go here, don't you?

Nature (or God, with a capital or small 'g') has its way of making us, letting us grow up and flourish in our own manner. We, as parents are to our kids what a gardener is to a plant

Again, I don't want to say one should not discipline their kids, or not guide them as to what's good - that's probably our biggest role right there

But, stereotyping our kids into a livelihood that we deem is "best for them" is a tricky one. And I am not sold on that one yet...

Saturday, January 26, 2008

I can not sing

I can not sing

To sing is to be a flute,
your body being the wind
and flowing with it be your throat

Or to be a violin,
your chords strung up,
giving way to the bow of your mind

I lend a sincere ear to a song
For it is as vital
to let the notes play inside you
just as they came out of the chords

With my ears, I sing
I sing inwards