Homecoming

There is a major difference between shifting houses and shifting homes. The former is much easier, for all it entails is leaving behind a building that is nothing but brick and mortar. Shifting homes on the other hand is emotionally taxing for one needs to leave their loved ones behind while shifting homes.

I have shifted homes twice and I am moving to a new house with my current home-mates soon and I would definitely say that shifting houses is no easy task, however shifting homes is a hundred times worse than shifting houses.

Two years ago, I left home for the first time. I left my family and came to Singapore. I was apprehensive and a little sad on leaving my little nest, but the excitement of going to a new place kept my spirits high.

In my first year in Singapore, my roommates became my support system in Singapore. The day I left the house, I felt a tinge of pain and I looked at the house that was once my residence for the last time. I quickly turned away and proceeded to my new house.

I soon moved into another locality and got acquainted with my new housemates. These housemates soon became home mates. At the end of the year, the university asked my roommates to shift. I was in a situation where I could either retain my house or my home-mates. I chose the later.

Many people chided me on my decision to shift houses when I could live on campus. I knew that they would never be able to understand my rationale behind leaving the house. I felt that a house can be replaced, but people who matter to you should never be replaced.

To me, My current hostel was a home, because my buddies made it so. If I chose them over the house, I would still be in a home. On the contrary if I chose the house, the house would be nothing but a hostel. It would mean that I valued cardboard, brick and cement over wonderful people.

The only thing that I miss about my new house is my Best Friends Absence. Though she intended to stay with me, a series of errors on my part made it impossible. However, nothing can be perfect and it's almost perfect with my home-mates and I am sure my Best Friend will be an honorary house mate in my house, just like I am in hers.

Houses may come, Houses may go. But we will go on forever.

Hindi Vindi

Languages has never been my cup of tea. However hard I try, my brain is wired in a way that makes languages difficult to grasp. When I was in grade one, My parents decided that I should learn Tamil, my mother tongue as my second language in school. Despite being able to speak in Tamil, I struggled with writing as I could never get the spellings right. Every time I submitted my note book to the teacher, it would be returned to me with several red ink marks on it. When my grandmother and mother tried to teach me, I would cry each time they made me write a word as an imposition as I never intended to make a mistake. My brain could simply not understand the nuances. At the end of Primary school, I could read and speak Tamil,but my writing skills remained below par. My ability to understand a new language was also low.

While attempting to learn my mother tongue itself was an arduous task, I made an unsuccessful attempt to learn Hindi. Several people told me that they had learnt Hindi by merely watching films. I knew the task would not be that easy, but I enrolled for classes and tried to understand Hindi. Despite all the effort I put. The attempt was a failure.

I assumed that I was unable to learn Hindi as I did not have anyone to interact with. Most of my friends spoke either Telugu or Kannada, and I thought it would be easier to pick up one of these languages. Once again my Mission Failed.

My linguistic disability never posed any problems. I was able to communicate verbally in English and Tamil. In India my lack of knowledge in Hindi was never remarked upon. Surprisingly the first this language issue was when I was in Singapore. Several times I found myself in the company of people who spoke in Mandarin and Hindi. While those who spoke in Mandarin were sympathetic, my Indian comrades simply expressed their surprise and continued talking in Hindi.

Some of them argued that Hindi was the national language of India. When I pointed out that Hindi was not 'THE' national language of India and that India had over a dozen national languages, they would arch their eyebrows and shake their head. They never empathized with me, but asked me to talk in English each time I spoke in Tamil ( Mainly to make them understand my situation).

My saviours were my roommates. One of them made an attempt to always talk to me in Hindi while the other when a step ahead and translated every sentence to me as others around me spoke to each other oblivious of my presence. 

I imagine the day, I would be able to have a full conversation in Hindi. Like the Sridevi in English Vinglish, I want to see the surprised faces of those around me. However I know this day may never come.

To those who tell me that I need to learn Hindi, I just have a few questions.

You say that Hindi is spoken in Delhi and I will suffer if I ever move to Delhi. I have no intention of moving to Delhi. Many of you have the intention of moving to Germany, France, Spain and Japan in the future. However you do not know German or French and still have the intention of emigrating to these countries. 

Secondly, you say that Hindi is spoken in many places in India. Sadly, we are not in India guys! we are in Singapore now! here, Hindi is NOT a National Language.Tamil, my mother tongue is one of the national languages of Singapore. If you feel it is necessary to know a Language that is commonly used in the city where you intend to live, I suggest you learn a language that is used in the city where you currently live. If thats the case, according to your analogy and theory, you can learn Tamil. 

So buddies.... When shall we begin the lesson???

Empowered and Empowering

In Buses in India it is not uncommon to find a section of seats on every bus reserved for women. This is done to ensure that women feel safe while traveling on crowded buses. Thr remaining seats are not reserved and anyone who chooses to sit on them can use them. However some people traveling on the bus assume that General Seats are for men while the reserved seats are for women.

Once I was traveling on a bus that was relatively empty. The women's section was full and only one man was seated in the general section. I proceeded to find a seat and sat down. In the next stop a lady and few other men got in and the lady asked me to get up. I pointed that the bus was empty and she could sit in any other seat she chose to. She shook her head and said that I was sitting in a 'Gents' seat and I should get up. Some of the men on the bus agreed with her. I simply refused to get up. She gave a disproving glance and continued to stand though there were sufficient seats on the bus as she wanted to sit on a 'LADIES' seat.

This happens on a daily basis in many places. It is not necessary that men suppress women, since many women suppress themselves. It would still be alright if they suppressed themselves, but many women take an extra step in suppressing other women by admonishing them. While I stuck to the seat and refused to move, I have come across several other girls who getup and stand in the same situation to avoid creating a scene.

This expression of authority on strangers is not limited to the public transport system. I was once seated on a bench in my undergraduate college. I stretched my legs after a tiring day at lab and classes. A woman who was the office assistant of one of my professors happened to pass by. She scurried towards me and asked me to sit decently. I pointed out that was nothing wrong in the way I sat and pointed to a boy sitting a few feet away and told her that he was sitting the same way. She said "Ozhunga Nalla Ponnu Mathri Iru". (Be like a good proper girl). I simply smiled and folded my knees and sat upright till she was out of sight. I did not have much of a choice as I was already notorious in college for being rebellious and did not want to create a scene as I feared it would affect my grades if anyone came to know that I rebelled.

These two incidents annoyed me, however I felt lucky as this superficial need to Appear like a "Nalla Ponnu" did not apply at home. However In several instances it applies to the home as well. I have come across several girls who wanted to study Mechanical Engineering but ultimately did not as their mothers and grandmothers counseled them against studying a "BOYS" course.

Many states in India have several women at their helm and many nations are lead by able women. We have several sportspersons including Mary Kom, Saritha Devi etc who are women. Many women scientists work in research establishments like ISRO and women contribute significantly to the nation. While many women admire these women who have made a mark, they hypocritically suppress themselves and the women around them by shaming them and controlling them to act like the supposed Good Woman in their perceptions. If  it had been drilled into Mary Kom had that punching was only meant for boys she  would not be where she is today.

I am a Mechanical Engineer and I have several friends doing research in Computer Science, Medicine and Biology. Research by itself is perceived to be a Male dominated field and sciences are all the more dominated by men. All of them concur on one thing - The women in their lives I.e. Mother, sister, teacher etc were extremely crucial in offering their support to them. One of them even went on to say that when she was in 6th grade her science teacher had told her that she should consider Life Science research and that the teacher was a major support to her. She concluded that if not for her family and teachers support she would not be where she is.

Several men suppress and abuse women, however several women suppress themselves and others and  in turn create a group of women who believe that it is alright to be suppressed and suppressed. It is only when this chain ends can women truly be empowering and empowered.

Let it go !

If we made a mistake, she would admonish us for a few minutes and then go on with whatever she was doing like nothing happened.

If she made a mistake, she would apologise and move on.

She was extremely level headed and looked at everything with a rational perspective and a combination of patience and pragmatism is what made her the person she is. She never held grudges, as she believed that everyone should always be given a second chance.

Several times when I encounter people, I observe that they are neither ready to forgive others, nor are they ready to accept their mistakes. They hold on to a false ego that they are always right and refuse to look beyond the rosy borders that they have mentally created for themselves. In doing so they create a barrier between themselves and others and make themselves difficult to approach. When I encounter such people, the first person who comes to my mind is my Mom.

I would always wonder what she would do if she was in the same situation. She would simply forgive the person and move on. I always wondered how she could be so calm and composed. I am a person who believes in admitting my mistakes, however when it came to forgiving others, my opinion was diametrically opposite to that of my mother. 

I believed that a person who had hurt me once, would hurt me again and by forgiving them I was only making myself more vulnerable to that persons emotions. I held on to my belief until my mom pointed out to me, that my not forgiving a person and holding onto a grudge, we are allocating a space for the person in our mind, this allocation of spaces makes us lose focus on other better and more important things. I did not buy her logic as I felt the principle was flawed.

One day I entered by apartment with a bag of vegetables that I had purchased in the market. I opened the fridge that was already overflowing and realised that there was no space for the vegetables. I left the vegetables on the kitchen counter and was left with a bag of rotten vegetables two days later. When I sifted through the contents of the fridge I noticed that most of the contents had either crossed their expiry dates or were spoilt. I had held on to rotten food and in the process let the fresh vegetables rot.

The same principle applies to our life. If we hold on to grudges, we let the grudges occupy too much of space in our mind. We do not get rid of grudges and hence our mind is filled with rotten thoughts. This prevents good thoughts from entering the mind. The good thoughts are forgotten as there is no space for them and in due course of time, the good thoughts become invalid as we have not allocated sufficient time to them.

For Example, A professor falsely accused me of using a mobile phone in his class.. He publicly shamed me in front of my classmates. I developed an instant dislike for him and mentally shut myself out in all his lessons. While my eyes appeared to focus on the board, I did not focus on the lessons. The Professor was a sour human but a good teacher. When the exams came, while others could fathom the subject, I was clueless. I had let the grudge grow in me and had prevented the knowledge from coming in. In the end, the sour Professor had remained unaffected. He continued to remain sour while my grades suffered.

This incident made me change my belief on forgiving others.

In forgiving someone else, we are in reality making ourselves a better person by getting rid of all the dirt and rot (grudges).

As the nicest human being I have known - My Mom, celebrates her birthday this week. I pray and hope that I become like her someday. I hope god gives her a colourful life and endows others with the cheerful disposition she has.