Swine-flu and School-Part 2

Yes-I have written enough on the subject and hopefully this is my last post on the topic. Have to maintain the parity in writing about them too-so here is Elena’s story,

The wise old lady-did not even argue about the mask.

She, like her mom, always takes the path of least confrontation-and then goes ahead and does what she means to do anyway (not like her mom though).

She was more concerned about the now essential accessory-the Sanitizer.

The experience, far-sighted teachers, after explaining the need to keep hands clean, told the kids to carry their own sanitizers because they wouldn’t be allowed to rush out to wash their hands, every time.

So Dad was contacted on email and phone and sent a reminder lest he forget, and pestered till he came with the new sanitizer school packs.

Two days later........
a very contrite looking kid with her eyes on the ground comes to me with her coin box, Mamma you can keep this.

Where did that come from?

I am sorry I lost the Sanitizer, I need another one…

Actually Mamma, I don’t think I lost it. I am very sure, the girl who sits behind me, flicked it, she had that kind of expression on her face….but I am still very sorry..

Yep-I fell for the “senti” scene again! Told her to keep the money (which she promptly did) and promised to get one more…

Oh and Mom.... can you please ask Papa to get a pink one this time, Komal also has one…

And Ma’am told us the Himalaya one is the best….

So we get ready to stock up on the latest accessory in school, with full specs on brands, fragrances and colors…

Swine-flu and School-Part 1

Aurora, our the queen of drama agreed to wear a mask because she liked the idea of a masquerade.

She practiced wearing it and kept it carefully in her pocket as she left for school.

It was nowhere in sight when she came back.

Mamma it looks so weird!

I tried to make her realize the importance of taking precautions…. there was a kid in their school who had the flu and was still at home recovering from the after-effects.

Do you know, that boy was absent for one week because he was sick, and then he is staying at home for another week so that he can become stronger, and he may stay at home for longer…his teacher is taking care of all his notes so he won’t even need to copy his work when he comes back…

I quickly turn the direction of our conversation and try to explain the gravity of the situation without scaring her….

But Mamma, that thing is suffocating. I can’t even breathe. I can wear it only if you cut a hole through it…

And there goes The Mask…

Swine flu paranoia

Ten years of driving two wheelers of every shape and size and I never wore a helmet, because I liked the feel of wind through my hair!

Yes all logic and traffic regulations didn’t make sense; people die any way, don’t they? And so many of them still live anyway!

Today I am really scared. I’ll do anything to keep my family safe.

Yes this supposed to be just another version of the flu we all keep having and getting over, but I never heard of people dying from cold before.

The casualty rate is a bare .01percent-But isn’t that just statistics? That one from the entire population might be the entire world for someone.

My kids’ school declared a week’s holiday after a student tested positive.

How do I know if it is safe to send them now? How many more could be infected or carriers? They could be travelling in the same stuffy van, sitting in the same classroom, playing together, eating together…

Should I insist on their wearing masks all day? But I know those won’t last a second after the van is out of sight.

Should I keep them at home?

I know I am being paranoid, but I can't help it.

Safety has somehow taken on a completely different dimension for me.

A Mills & Boon reading Mom

I’ve got mail

In fact I've got sixteen Mills and Boon ebooks painstakingly forwarded, one by one, at close to midnight.

Thanks Poonam. For the pile of cheesy romances which the wise scoff at, the lofty won’t even touch with a barge pole and the “educated” types would sniff at in disgust; you read those: those tacky, cheesy, paperbacks!!??

Oh yes, I do.

I love the templatized predictability of these sometimes simpering, sometimes steamy romances, the exotic locales, the cuisine, and the haute couture; the fluttering heroine who finally finds her vertebral column; the ill-mannered, arrogant, alpha hero coming down to his knees on page 186; the familiar twists and the gallons of shed and unshed tears; the lost and found themes; the escapism and the promises of eternal love.

I love them just as I loved the fairy stories of years ago.

So like a true MB reader, I forwarded the books immediately to some more women like me, who like reading so called "crap" and aren’t coy about saying so.

Why have I posted this on my Mom Blog? Because Moms also read crap, even the ones in their thrities and with two kids, Moms who should be knowing better than lapping up teenage-stuff...

Dedicated to alchemistpoonam

Name Change and the Identity Circus

In full agreement with Shakespeare’s logic, I willingly and cheerfully changed my second name to represent all that the family I married into, stands for.

Yet, there were so many people out there who knew me by the name I was born with, and it had been my identity for so long, that I retained my “original name” also.

And no, I did not string it to form a three part name (would have been a mouthful and a un-musical one at that) but used both.

So I have Email ids with both names, a Driving License in one name and a Passport in another. All education certificates in one name and job certificates in another. A PAN card with one name and Bank Accounts with both names-just in case I have piles of “black money” to stash away some day.

Add to that my penchant for signing my name according to the logic of the moment, and it resulted in more that one returned cheque. I nearly lost out on a job-offer too when the company issued the offer in one name and my consultant didn’t recognize it. To contain the chaos, I decide to use only my first name as my signature. After all, that was my identity.

Except that many a times I have to add “Elena/Aurora’s Mom” while introducing myself because my identity is not complete without it.

And there are those who take a moment to recognize my first name also, having always identified me with the nicknames I was stuck with.

But then those too are a part of my identity.

I am me, a wife, a mother, a daughter, a sister, a friend-and I use all my names to show it!

Yeah-the Rose smells just as sweet, using all other names just makes life a little complicated.....

//I am glad my daughter as already decided to stick to her surname (although she has forgotten her original reason http://thehypermom.blogspot.com/2009/04/pehla-nasha_18.html)

“It is short, it matches my name and I like it” //

A Promise to Cherish

Elena has to “learn” an essay on “Raksha Bandhan”

“Rakhi is a festival on which sisters tie a Rakhi on their brothers’ wrists and the brothers promise to love and protect them forever…….”

But what do people who have no brothers do on Rakhi?

My girls tie Rakhis to each other.
After all when it is about a promise:

to care and cherish

to be there for each other in sickness and sorrow, in tussles over pencils and party-shoes, in the moments of making up and fighting other kids for each other

to cry for each other exult in each other’s joy

to create memories that sustain through a lifetime

to celebrate a relation which combines the joy of being friends as well as family and so much more……

Isn’t it all about sisters too?

It's Friendship Day

Another day to increase consumption, hyped up by the brands, lapped up by the kids.

Well maybe not by all kids-

The elder one made a list of people she wanted to tie “friendship bands” to, shortlisted it to a reasonable five and then threw in a few spares-just in case she’s forgotten a friend or two.

The younger kid didn’t care much but still dug out some friendship bands received last year and decided to take them to school and tie them only to the friends who tied one for her.
And what if you need more-I can always untie on from my hand and use it, can’t I?

Yeah-she’d rather spend the money on chips.

And for me-the supposed to be staid, sensible, mom-of-two with three grey threads in my hair to show it---today is again a reason to reach out to the people who have mattered more than anything in the world.

To the friends who grew up with me and made me grow up (or tried to). To the ones who taught me to smile and move ahead, to the ones who have put up with me for better or worse, to the ones who till day are standing by me and to the ones who have drifted away.

And wish them a very happy day…..and thank them for being my friends

Is it because I am the sort of Mom who still has a lot of growing up to do? (who exchanges MBs in the office parking lot, who has still kept cards and letters from decades ago, who still misses her friends and cherishes every moment spent with them; http://thehypermom.blogspot.com/2009/03/wind-beneath-my-wings.html)

Or is it because the girls are yet to find out what friends really are?

HSBC Credit Card and the unending trauma

These are the details of my experience as a HSBC Credit Card holder.

You can help me and possibly many others like me by circulating this link, taking the time to read this post, and advising me on what are my options now.

If you are the independent type who believes in not learning from other people’s experiences, please continue using your HSBC Credit Card.

26^th April 2009

After a long day out the previous day, as I was keeping away all the shopping and arranging my bag-I notice that my credit card pouch is missing.

I go down, check in the car, all around the house and then not to take any risks, call up the Banks.

ICICI assures me there has been no misuse, blocks the card.

HSBC-yes there has been a series of transactions-of amounts adding up to approx 10K,, blocks the card and advices me to log a complaint with the police and drop a copy of that complaint to the nearest branch or ATM.

I drop everything I was doing to rush and do all that.

I couldn’t submit the papers to HSBC because there is no-one at the Branch on a Sunday and I was not comfortable dropping them at the ATM collection box.

//They have delayed picking up my bill payments at least 3-4 times, and have also added late payment charges, finance charges and taxes on those charges.

Yes they reverse the charges if you call and fire them and spend about 20-40 minutes each time. On the fourth instance I had asked them why they do it then-just pushing their luck and hoping we pay up?

Of course not Ma’am it is all system generated.//

I never knew how this term will come back to haunt me…

27^th April 2009:

I call up office, reschedule work because I am going to be late and am at HSBC, M.G. Road Bangalore Branch at sharp 10.00 am (And I thought only Govt. offices opened after 10). There are two employees of the Bank smoking outside a locked door-Ma’am today is a holiday-it’s Basavraja Jayanti (or something similar).

Oh but all offices I know of are working, the kids are at school……anyway, since you are here, can’t you just accept my papers…

No Ma’am you have to submit it at the counter, or you can drop it in the collection box

Heck, I’ll have to take time off tomorrow also, but no, I am not risking the drop-box.

28^th April 2009:

Again a round of explanations and I leave office early to arrive at the same bank at 5.00 pm-and learn that they close customer hours at 4.00pm. Oh I am so sorry,( I never thought a Multinational Private Bank would do that) anyway I just need to give you these papers….

I think it is enough to say I have had much more professional experiences in our much maligned “sarkari” departments.

I am pointed towards the drop-box, I recall my experiences, and decide to take a half-day off the next day and come back.

29^th April 2009:

I finally get to a collection counter, where the guy is not interested in listening to me or looking through the papers. I insist on a receipt; he stamps the photocopies of my complaint and the only response I am able to get out of him is that they’ll investigate and get back in 30-45 days. I am thrilled I finally did it!!!!!

27^th July 2009:

I have been calling HSBC customer-care every week…

• Ma’am your card is still under investigation.. please call us in 5 working days……….
• Ma’am the bill is System Generated.
• Yes Ma’am you can delay payment for now. Yes the charges are System Generated— these will be reverted…
• Please wait for the investigation to be over……..
• Yes Ma’am, it’s still under investigation, I have logged a fresh complaint, please note down your complaint number and call us after 5 working days……….

On the other hand, HSBC had generated three monthly bills for the disputed amount levying the finance charges, the late payment charges, the taxes on the charges, the fine for not paying the minimum amount and the collection department of HSBC has been hounding me to the point that I am heading towards a nervous breakdown and recurrent asthma attacks.

I was getting an average of 5 calls per day and they were really nasty……..

• Yes, the System has generated my number among the defaulters…
• No, they do not have any “System Generated” update from investigation department…could I fax them the details..

I faxed the entire set of documents to a number given by the collection department of HSBC, and to another number for Credit Card products that I found on the HSBC website…….

• I get more calls……no they have not received the fax, neither has calling customer care again helped….

I fax the papers again……

• The calls continue……..

I threaten to go to the police and report them for harassment….

• I am very sorry, the guy changes his tone, but Ma’am your number has come to the collection department because you haven’t paid the minimum amount due…….
• Yes, I know the details, but Ma’am we are not even dialing the numbers manually, it is System Generated..
• No Ma’am, I cannot update it my end…..yes you know what he said.

Meanwhile………

• I also wrote to the Nodal Officer for customer grievances…the only email id I found on the HSBC website.
• I got a System Generated response saying I would get an update in two working days.
• After 6 days I wrote back asking for the update.
• I got the same System Generated response saying I would get an update in two working days.
• Same response on the investigation from the customer care number.

Isn’t it quite like the Gabbar Singh sequences where he sets a prisoner free to run for his life and sets the dogs and the bullets after him?

What can I do to make them stop? To make them tell me what they have been investigating for the last three months? To make sure others don't have to go through a similiar experience?

Of old friends and new..

Elena woke up in tears: Mamma, I dreamt that you had changed my school. I never want to change my school-I will lose all my friends……

History repeats...Yeah, I know

My Mom forcefully changed my school in 11^th Standard-because my school did not have the science-maths combination, she wanted me to study. As I didn’t want to study anything, the combo just didn’t matter, but my friends did-so much, yet being a wimp whenever faced with emotional blackmail, I gave in.

I hated everything about the new school, but most of all, I missed my old friends-the ones I had been with for the last ten years. I did my best to be rational, level headed, practical….etc. etc.. for a month.

Then I rode my moped to my old school (wearing the wrong uniform) and went and met all my friends, teachers, and the Principal.

Yes, it was one of my infamous U-turns. I felt so bad about my parents wasting, all the money on admission, uniforms, books etc, that I did study Maths privately, and managed to get through Engineering-but I couldn’t ever leave my school and my friends for that…….

So how could I convince Elena?

I told her about the mice and the cheese and the need to keep moving on.

About how we make new friends as we keep moving and how we can always stay in touch with the ones who fly away.

And what about the ones we lose along the way?

Yes we lose, we miss, we cry, but don’t they say that the one, who doesn’t fly back to you, was never yours anyway!

Never one to miss an opportunity, she agreed: Ok, but will you let me create an account on Facebook?

Where did that come from?

But I think she got what I was trying to say!

Inconvenient Truths

The awkward questions.

My younger kid is always full for them, for starters:
What is S**?

Me trying to be correct without being candid:
It means-Male or Female, Boy or Girl

My elder daughter, an old soul who knew what made adults uncomfortable and never asked us any of these questions, giggled:
Mamma she wants to know the other meaning, the one which people do……..

I gasped: And just what is that?

I had to confirm what she knew, she’s just turned nine.

Elena: Oh Mamma, of course you know, all parents do….
and she refused to go into explanations

Shaken and determined to continue when Aurora was not around, I change the subject, for the moment.

Princess Aurora, obviously did not stop there.

Another day at the dining table:

Aurora: I will not force my children to eat Sambar.

I at my most formidable: That’s a long time away, please finish yours.

Aurora, determined to change the subject: Why is it a long time away?

I refuse to be distracted: Please take a spoonful, your mouth is empty

Aurora: A five year old girl can get pregnant, you know.

Me finally shocked into forgetting the Sambar: Of course not!!!!!!!! Who told you that?

Aurora putting down her spoon relieved at having Mom on a safer topic:

Oh just some friends, told me that. But I guess they were just fooling me.

Warming on to her subject and discretely pushing her food a little further off

I didn’t believe them and told them you have to be grown up and married to get pregnant
she continues righteously…

A smothered giggle, from my ninety (oops nine) year old…

Trying to keep her parents speechless long enough to flee, the princess climbs down her chair and continues:

But then that means Maami would be pregnant now…

The Ninety (no way can she be nine) year old has had enough:

Oh come on, you can just take Ipill and not get pregnant.
Mamma, this girl really doesn’t know anything!!!!

//I swear I have read a lot of on how to explain facts to your kids, and I was all ready to do it when they entered their teens. But now??

Phew!!

I am not sure what I find more unnerving-Aurora’s questions or Elena’s answers//

...do not bring us to the test

I was a bad student. The kind who do everything but study all through the year. But I was held up as a role model to the rest of the class and my cousins (and heartily resented for it), because I was very good at exams.

I studied the examination system more seriously than my books. My success belonged more to strategizing and sheer luck than slogging-smart working as it is called these days. Yes, I seriously worked hard at getting marks, because my grades did matter a lot to me.

And like most parents, I resolved I would not bring up my daughters to do the same.

With them, I always emphasized that learning is more important than “mugging up and coughing out”. I’d prefer that they did reasonably well on their own, than “coming first” with spoon-fed answers and I never asked the teacher their “rank” in class compared to the others.

Yet, when Elena showed me her test answer papers with 23½ out of 25 in four out of five of them-I couldn’t help asking:

Why? When you know everything?

These are just test marks, I do know the answers and that is more important.

So why didn’t you just check the paper before handing it in? These are just careless mistakes that you could have corrected.

I had to go for choir practice so I finished as fast as I could.

Looking at my expression, she sat down to explain:

Mamma, these tests keep happening all around the year, but the Speech day happens only once. Also these marks are not so important, because I do know everything. My Ma’am also knows that I know.

A theatrical pause and then the punch line:

And you know Mamma, there are so many kids in my class who have actually Failed!
Unsaid: See, you lucky you are? And stop cribbing about the 1½ points.

I know she is right.

But the Mom in me still wants her to do better. Am I wrong?

As you speak, so you become...

Are you a Punjabi?

My mom-in-law asked one of the kids’ friends.

No, I am English.

No way, my mil insisted, tell me what language your parents speak in when they are at home.

Oh, they speak English and Hindi. They speak in Punjabi only with my grandmother.

There, I told you-this means you are a Punjabi.

The five year old clarified furiously:

No, It means my Biji is a Punjabi, I am English and my parents are Hindi, English and Punjabi!

My daughters speak Hindi (tinged with Punjabisms) with their “North-Indian” friends, English in school and with all other friends, and Bengali with grandparents. With us, they use all three.

They also sprinkle their sentences with quite a few Tamil expressions, learnt from the “day-care aunty”, Telegu words gleaned from the maid who works there, and a lot of Kannada absorbed from all around.

I wonder what they are…

abracadabra

No matter how fiercely you believe in it, a dream is a dream. When the morning alarm rings, you have to wake out if it and start your day.

Is that how a kid feels when she wakes up to the fact that fairies exist only between the covers of books and Santa cannot be real?

I saw it happening with Elena.

How can Santa keep a track on how good each kid in the world was? How could he keep updated on all the changing addresses and reach every home in one night (that too riding on reindeers). How can he enter ours without the proverbial chimney? In fact Santa sounded decidedly witchy---quite like Loverna. OK-it had to be Mom.

Yet, she announced, she would continue to believe in the magic-because she wanted her gift.

She continued to believe in the Tooth fairy too.

It was only when the distracted Tooth fairy forgot to exchange her tooth for a coin one night that she began to get suspicious. We blamed the traffic and the rains (as we do for so many things) and she agreed to give the fairy another chance. The part-time fairy added yet another reminder on her phone and actually followed through. Yet the seeds of doubt grew roots-the fairy acted so much like Mom.

I knew she was convinced when she came home from school and said: You know Mamma, Tara broke her tooth on Monday and it was Friday by the time the Tooth fairy came and left her a coin.

Oh great! Another Mom like me. And I know why she was telling me this.

Anyway, she had to know one day.

Aurora broke her first tooth today!

I quickly added a reminder and started hunting for change (if not my wand).

Yeah, she’ll soon grow out of it, but I want her to believe in the magic for some more time.