Monthly Archives: June 2012

my 2 sen


I have issues with the” why women still can’t have it all…”

why is being a professional such a big deal…? why is being a woman of power being touted as the next best thing? Exactly what work does Hillary Clinton do, can someone explain to me…

For me, the woman of power has time in her hands; time that she spends in public service in the true sense… and it means in my definition: “where you help someone without thinking what is in it for you… ”

someone who has kind eyes and kind words and a kind attitude to human beings…

Really Anne-Marie Slaughter, you should just relax… and stop shooting off 10,000 worded articles, without exhaling.

where did you learn that word?


the “bugger” word was being thrown around between the kids.

and we were ready to raise ourselves to bilkul shudh ISI mark desi-parent heights,

but peace returned when firstborn told us what bugger really meant: “it’s two slices of bun stuffed with a non-veggie filling and some salad-y stuff..”


slowly, slowly, slowly…


(more KL love)

at the fag end of this stint, I see that several things around me worked slowly. my gas stove takes three times longer than a regular stove to boil milk…

my pressure cooker requires close supervision and boils dal after 19 whistles…

baby param sits on the potty after his school van reaches our apartment… and the van driver doesn’t mind

the queue at the Jusco sale moves leisurely and the only person who said pshaw was me…

no one could repair our fans… three electricians gave up. we have brand new ceilings fans with remotes, which don’t work; we get by with a stand-fan that works, but a little slowly

the paediatrician’s queue moves slowly and she apologises for keeping us waiting. and at the end of the consultation she asks baby param what sticker he wants and patiently waits until a 3-year-old makes up his mind between a ferrari or a ben10.

my handsurgeon’s nurse (when I chopped off the tip of my finger) removed the bandages every week, slowly, gently, kindly

on some afternoons it begins to rain slowly, beautifully, slowly

more Kl love


today I am grateful for having learned to live in silence,

I was once wary of the quiet… i thought i needed the buzz of a radio, the traffic, a mother in law…

even with two boys, my home here is an oasis of calm (provided the mmmim is travelling — he still needs the buzz of TV, traffic or a mother in law)

today, firstborn is working out what eight times seven is and baby param is having a two-car race on the sofa, and only the whirl of the fan fills the air.

and i feel blessed that the silences have slowly acquired beauty…for me.

I miss it when i am in india,

I miss the still morn when i can hear the first of the birds waking up. i wake happy in the knowledge that my thoughts aren’t loud enough to drown out the chirping.

I miss the dreamy blue afternoons: when baby param is napping and firstborn is not back from school, and the home is a peaceful hush.

and the silent nights, after firstborn has slept and so has his brother, I sit on the floor and face the moonlight and see if the stars will come out and watch maybe a plane go by.

I want to remember that I have embraced these silences, very happily. not interrupted by a handphone call, or a book or a friend or the www.

That the peaceful stillness was a part of my life as much as my children and husband. And it is a part of Malaysian culture… that i have absorbed neatly.

The attitude to NOT take yourself too seriously, the big laughs, the unique concept of the “never mind lah” , the idea that a crowd can be 100 per cent no-fidget in a minute of prayer, that there is such a thing as patient waiting…

I was very impressed about a tribe from Kelantan here in Malaysia: they never argue… If they are embarrassed by a questioner, they avoid conflict by quietly leaving. Their code of behaviour is strict: ‘Never talk to your mother-in-law; never shoot poison darts at humans; and don’t laugh at butterflies’.

I am afraid the silences won’t seek me out in my new life in chennai. the impatient world is already pounding at the frontdoor of our new chennai home, and we haven’t even moved in.

But I want to remember that for four years, I never laughed at a butterfly.