Dear Daddy

Dear Daddy

Dear Daddy, It is five months now, exactly on the 28^th of June, at around 12.30 I was at my happiest best (you do know little things about life make me happy), but that changed too soon. I was happy because I so much wanted to call you as I was driving to work, to let you know I had found my true calling of the heart – to be a therapist to people who are the most vulnerable, distressed, beaten and who cry alone. Especially children.  I was happy because I thought this conviction would make you proud. I also thought that afternoon, as I was sitting in the car, that I would want to specialize in grief therapy. My heart told me I’d be good at it! A few weeks earlier, I recall, telling a friend of mine, that I would want to work in a hospice to listen for the dying, to hold their hands, and look at them with nurturing eyes as they leave beyond this fallible world.

Little did I know I’d have lost the chance to be next to you, at that moment of liberation.

~~~

Dear Daddy, I would have called you, tucking my phone into my seat belt, putting you on speaker and cheerily calling you out “ Hey Daddddyyyy”, knowing I loved to prolong the sound of dadiiieeeeeeee. I had the joys of a little child just learning to play with sounds and think it was the best note of music uttered.

~~~

That was not to be. I did not call. Instead, I let the rush of work take the better of me. I had a social Investigation report to be delivered to the Child Welfare Committee (CWC) where a father was taking custody of his daughter (now 15), after the mother had abandoned the child when merely three years old. Tracing the father of the child after 13 long years was a stroke of miracle. I could not finish the report, because I got a call from Uncle Sudha.

~~~

Dear Daddy, it is always the call from Sudha that makes me numb. I know he was your favorite brother-in-law. A tough, no nonsense man. People around him talk to him like as if they were talking to a Lion King, in subdued tone of great respect, and yes off course sometimes with fear. When I saw the phone beeping with his name, why did I feel this call would be about death? I stumped him, daddy! I asked him “ is everything alright? What’s the matter”. He did not know what to say. He asked me to leave to Mangalore immediately. I knew I had to hear your voice. He skirted around the topic. I asked him “is daddy dead?”  I could not take any in-betweens. It is a different matter that I was not told about your going away until I was being driven to the airport. Your youngest son, Manoj had to tell me in clear no-in-between manner. We choked together, and allowed the phone to go dead.

~~~

Dear Daddy, its five months now. I have a lot to tell you. I do. When I am about to fall off to sleep, in my dreams that are surreal, and when I want to scream out your name when I am stuck in long traffic signals. Instead today I catch myself exposing my tears, when driving. The cars, you would know do not have the UV shields anymore.  Emotions are see-through. When driving in cramped roads.

~~~

Dear Daddy, I am left with many, in fact plenty, no, countless things to tell you. I will. I’ll post letters to you here. I want to go through the catharsis of grief, sorrow, pain, and loss to find you close to me. You were my bestest friend. You knew some of my darkest secrets, that typically a daughter would never think of sharing with her dad. I did. You took the information in your stoic, seemingly unmoved charisma. I would cry like a baby to you, through a broken heart, or a failure in my vision of myself, or a hope that I would want to share. Everything made me teary.  You understood it.

I blame you for this acute sensitivity. You taught me the love of literature. You introduced me to the word Dickens and the Pickwick Paper, when I had no clue of how to spell literature. I went on to study Literature, and then teach Literature.  I can tell you, I felt so proud of myself that this gift of Literature and its appreciation came from you. You tutored Literature to the BA students of St. Aloysius College in the early 1960s. The irony is that I never saw you reading any literature anymore than you reading the sports page from the first word to the last. I know that for your boys reading the newspaper meant reading the sports page!

~~~

Dear Daddy, how many fathers introduce their children to appreciate classic Hindi movies, in this time and age of pulp, cheap and crass art .  You did that. Remember the movies we watched together: Saigal’s legendary movie Devdas. The movie, you said played the role that would come to define Saighals acting career: that of the drunken title character in Devdas, based on Sarat Chandra Chattopadhyay's novel. You shared the name of the protagonist, and a few quirks of his flawed personality. 

How can I not remember watching the most inspiring movie Anuradha, with Balraj Sahani in the lead role with Leela Naidu. The simple love story of Anuradha Roy, a noted radio singer, dancer and daughter of a rich man, who falls in love with an idealistic doctor, and how she follows her husband to serve the rustics in the village. Anuradha has to decide between her love for husband and music. The clinching moment in the movie occurs when  Dr. Nirmal concedes to her desire to leave her husband whom she loved for the same reasons that she now wants to go away and restart her life in the city. At this point of break-away, she asks him: "Can't you ask me to stay back?", and then decides to stay back with her husband and what does she do, she takes a broom to sweep the front yard. I fell in love with Balraj Sahani then. Oh what a handsome man he was!!

But, little did you know that the stereotypes of the romantic movies would be questioned by your daughter as she grew to understanding constructs in language and culture. You saw that coming, in your great fortitude.  

That was also the time we watched the movies of Guru Datt, and the likes. I began to enjoy the songs of Manna Dey, Mukesh, Rafi, Talat mahmood, Geetha Dutt and all the new singers who gave a voice in the 70s.

~~~

Dear Daddy, I listen to some of the songs – the classical numbers of Rafi, Manna Dey and only wish our old Aiwa cassette player would play some of the tapes I have collected – a legacy to the memory of the richness of art and appreciation of black and white Hindi movie that you taught me.

~~~

Dear Daddy, you always told me to look at people who are less than us – the deprived, the poor, the people who suffer injustice, who have missed opportunities. You always said take your lesson from them. As hard as it was for you to see me leave the IT world of Big Money and grand positions, you saw your Bitte Maye (the only pet name you gave me that translates to Little one) choose a world that you in your heart felt I was doing my bit to follow the aspirations of touching people’s lives in ways that touches mine, too.

Did you know Daddy, that it was when reading the Tibetan Book of Living and Dying, three years ago, I told myself that not one day will be wasted in the mindless ways of living, without a purpose of holding, giving, compassion, love and nurturing. I have found my spiritual voyage. Your life, your message is intertwined to my living. 

Parents live through their children.  You do every single moment. 

A part of you is in me.

~~~

Dear Daddy, I have re-picked the Book of Living and Dying.  Again. This time to derive insights into my own mortality. Trying to make sense of it all, in slow motion. I’ll wait until I come to it. Mindful.  When we really look at ourselves, then, and the things around us that we take to be so solid, so stable, and so lasting, we find they have no more reality than a dream.

Daddy, did you know the Buddha said:

Know all things to be like this:

A mirage, a cloud castle,

A dream, an apparition,

Without essence, but with qualities that can be seen.

Know all things to be like this:

As the moon in a bright sky

In some clear lake reflected, 
Though to that lake the moon has never moved.

Know all things to be like this:

As an echo that derives

From music, sounds, and weeping,

Yet in that echo is no melody

Know all things to be like this:

As a magician makes illusions

Of horses, oxen, carts and other things,

Nothing is as it appears.

~~~*~~~

An evening with Dr. Binayak Sen

A rare honor. A rare privilege. An evening with Dr. Binayak Sen. 

Dr Binayak Sen  was with us at Centre for Public Health and Equity (CPHE) and later at the Community Health Cell, yesterday  (17th January 2012) evening. The evening was one filled with discussions that moved from the personal story of a continuing struggle to fight for justice, when one comes in direct opposition with the sate and state machinery to the larger issues of the political economy of health and oneness of people coming together towards conviviality (Ivan Illich).

I thought I’d share just a few aspects of the discussions we had with Dr Sen, and provide for the group a few readings to help us understand what we are engaging in through the work that is driven to health, wellbeing, equity and justice. (The links that I provide here are clearly some of the reading I have myself carried on, post the evening, and thought I’d share it with you as well).

Dr Sen in his quiet, reflective and acutely perceptive manner spoke to each one of us in the meeting, attentively listening to the work that some of our fellow friends do – this brought out a discussion of the conditions, the lives the pauracarmikas lead, and the prevailing oppression and injustice the community feels. The discussion highlighted the reality that manual scavenging is seen even in urban places and cities where deaths are a regular occurrence that often goes unnoticed.

Dr. Sen spoke of his personal struggles in jail and outside. One thing that has bound the movement together (and one that take it to other areas of issues) is the sense of fellowship that continued to build through the Free Binayak Sen campaign and now beyond. Through all of this, it  brought one thing to centre stage for sure – a realization that the growing phenomenon of the opposition to/with the state affects all of us. This has given us the mechanism to come together – where human rights, equity and justice are a collective struggle. 

The Voices of Dissent Disappear

Dr . Sen mentioned one important concern that is plaguing the world around us – the disappearance of people who voice their dissent against the state are “vaporised” (I make use of this Orwellian expression here).

He brought out the example of Jaswant Singh Khalra who disappeared one day , when he was last seen washing his car. Jaswant Singh Khalra discovered cremation records that proved Indian security forces illegally killed thousands of Sikhs in the 1980s and 1990s. Khalra connected the police to the disappearances of over 2,000 Sikhs in Amritsar district, located in the north-western Indian state of Punjab.  On the morning of September 6, 1995, witnesses saw uniformed and armed Indian police personnel abduct Khalra from outside his home, who had previously been warned by the police to discontinue his efforts or he too would be disappeared. Police tortured Khalra for weeks before killing him.

The Human Rights Law Network (HRLN) had conducted the National Consultation on Human Rights Defenders conference where the widow of Jaswant Singh Khalra spoke her inaugural  address highlighting the human rights abuses that took place in Punjab have not been addressed by the state.  Today there is a similar pattern of disappearance everywhere. Formally it was believed that these instances were rampant in places like Kashmir and the North East.

Read more :

http://www.sikhsiyasat.net/2011/12/12/rights-and-wrongs-dr-binayak-sen-and-ilina-sen-on-jaswant-singh-khalra-centre-for-hr-defenders/

Living in the time of Famines

Dr. Sen highlighted the fact that we live in a time where “famine” is a constant. The image that we have of famine is often a wrong imagery – that it happens due to natural calamities or occurrences. The fact that India is battling Undernutrition shows this phenomenon.  The body mass index (below 18.5)  is regarded as chronic nutrition.  37% of our adult population have a body mass index below 18.5.  This is severe in scheduled tribes, with 50% of the people having a body mass index below 18.5.  Among scheduled castes, the figures are more than 60% . He drew attention to the World Health Organization technical report that mentions that if in any community has more than 40% of the people with a BMI of below 18.5, that the community can justifiably be regarded as being in a state of famine.

The Age of Barbarism

An important reading that one should carry out is: When state makes war on its own people. This is a report on violations of people's rights during the Salwa Judum campaign in Dantewada, Chhitsgarh, April 2006. You can read the full report from the link provided here.

http://www.pucl.org/Topics/Human-rights/2006/slawajudum.htm

Dr Sen spoke of the barbarism that exists in the world today, where every 3 seconds there is a death of a child due to poverty and in the 3 seconds over 250$ is spent in "arming" the world. 

Public Health reduced to Techniques

One notices that “Public Health” is becoming a popular stream, and we see that it has now been reduced to techniques. It is rare to find discussions about the social dimensions toe health.

We at SOCHARA can feel worthy ( and feel proud)  that we do not allow the social dimensions to be lost, when sometimes a reductionist mode of understanding health and equity  is often a trap that most can easily slip into. Through all our discussion, reflection, engagements and research we draw out the community, social paradigms of change. We bring the community to the fore.

The Feeling Wheel

Here are my many reflections that I bundle up, after attending (despite my awful-groggy voice and my perpetual bouts of coughing) my first class of  Interpersonal Communication and Listening Skills (Module One) course at Parivarthan. 

To say the least the first session has surely opened an accelerating feeling -  that will open up opportunities of empowerment in the seven weeks of the course.

Parivarthan is a Counselling, Training and Research Center that offers counselling for children, adolescents and individuals, where their training is geared to help towards human development and life skills. Of particular interest is that they conduct research in the area of mental health.

The course I am attending emphasizes on personal growth of an individual through "pertinent" tools of self-awareness. I am sure this reflective space will go a long way in improving not just my approach to mediating with the world, but also consolidate my strengths to engage in communities comprehensively and holistically. 

What I take home from day one is the insights into ones own "Feeling Wheel". Often one is not in touch with ones feeling - we are programmed culturally not be to be in touch with our feelings. Being in touch with "feelings" is to be emotional. Being "emotional" means being soft, and allowing the "intellect" to cave in to emotions!  The feeling wheel surely broadens our vocabulary to the many nuances of over a hundred different nuanced meanings for different shades of emotions! Today with the shrinking language, we  we surely have shrink our experiences by uttering just a few "colloquial" expressions. Take the example of the word OK. It means many things and yet not. It means anything depending on the lines of: alright, well, good, not so good but just about good, maybe, a question - more often a statement in itself! Phew! so much for just this word!

As one delves in to listening simply to the self, several "Trigger Points" come to the surface. The trigger points that is  cumulative of life's experiences - that we have acquired, and that of what we are born into.

Being aware of trigger points, one starts thinking about the I. It further expands ones thinking and forcing one to examine ones relationship with the environment. 

When I mean Trigger Points, I mean that there are several trigger points in each of us - our age, our name, our birth order, then the caste, creed, religion, spirituality to the more social - Family structure, school, college, memories of travel, habits, friends, work. Each of us will have several trigger points that are a repository of feelings and experiences that are unique - and that can bring a flood of positive and not so positive emotions.

Today, a "Date with I"  gave me a chance to re-visit some of them. I am sure I will be re-visiting many more of these in the days to come. This is a wonderful exercise to mediate, engage and perhaps look at things from multiple angles at situations that befell us with experience, those often not necessarily pleasant. 

I realize that the I alters all the time. There are moments when we discover a different I, that was not necessarily the same a few minutes ago, and perhaps will not be the same after the “THIS” moment passes on to the other. 

Our moments of greatest strength is in stark opposition of our greatest weakness. 

Through this changing I, often in a continuum of  change, conflict and alteration, one can say that the I is dynamic. It is never static. Thanks to the trigger points that have allowed fossils of emotions to bury within the I-US in time.

The emotional residue remains day after day, year after year, and with this shifts the I.   

I guess, today was entirely a "date with I".  This provided a meeting with 13 wonderful people - who have sometimes the same and yet unique experiences. 

This journey of deep introspection will  provide me the tools to engage with every “relationship transaction” more effectively. This I am sure will go a long way in helping me in my interaction with children. 

My working with children in need of care and protection will be the wheel of time that will expand an exhilarated,  creative, aware and mindful journey, through my life and beyond.

~~*~~