थकले रे नंदलाला

फक्त तीन कडवी. पण आयुष्याचा विचार करायला लावणारी. आधी मला वाटलं होतं की या कवितेबद्दल लिहिताना कवी बद्दलच्या माझ्या भावना आड नाही आणायच्या. पण ते केवळ अशक्य आहे. गदिमांच्या कवितां बरोबर मीच मला उमगत जाते. ह्या अश्या कवी बद्दलचे विचार कसे काय अडवणार? त्यांच्या प्रत्येक कवितेत जीवनाच्या वेगवेळ्या पैलूंचं दर्शन घडतं मला; निशब्द होते मी.  

त्यातून गदिमांची कविता आणि बाबूजींचं संगीत असेल तर केवळ स्वर्गसुख. ह्या दोघांचं संगम असलेल्या एका तरी गाण्याचं रोज वेड लागत मला. दिवसभरात काम करताना किंवा गाडी चालवताना ते गाणं ऐकत राहते मी. आणि मग विचार करून सरते शेवटी रात्री मला त्या गाण्यात दडलेला अजून एक अर्थ सापडतो. 

आजचा दिवस होता "थकले रे नंदलाला" ह्या गाण्याचा. गाणं एवढा अध्यात्मिक आहे कि अभंग वाटावा. आज पर्यंत असं वाटत होतं कि मीपण काढून टाकण्याची केलेली धडपड ही त्या गाण्यातून दिसते. पण आज अचानक जाणवलं. 

आध्यात्मिकतेचा विचार थोडा बाजूला ठेऊन बघितला आणि जाणवलं. हे गाणं म्हणजे चक्क depression चं प्रवासवर्णन आहे. 

हल्ली सुशांत सिंघ राजपूत प्रकरणामुळे नैराश्याबद्दल अनेक चर्चा चालू आहेत. त्यामुळे कदाचित हा विषय माझ्या डोक्यात आला असेल. पण पुन्हा ती कविता वाचल्यावर नैराश्याच्या वाटचालीचं वर्णन तिथे इतकं चपखल बसलं कि माझं मलाच आश्चर्य वाटलं. 

नाच नाचुनी अति मी दमले 

थकले रे नंदलाला 

ह्या ओळींवरून कवितेची दिशा लक्षात येते. चित्रपटातील (जगाच्या पाठीवर) गाणं बघितलं असल्यामुळे तो प्रसंग डोळ्यासमोर येतो. पण मग तो प्रसंग थोडा बाजुला ठेऊन विचार केला जातो. कवितेतील व्यक्ति केवळ शरीरानेच नाही, तर मनानं पण थकली आहे असा भास होतो. अर्थात हा भास आशाताईंच्या आवाजातली जादू पण असू शकतो. खरं तर ह्या अनंत अर्थांनी भरलेल्या ओली लिहिल्या आहेत. त्या ओळींना जिवंत केलाय बाबूजींच्या संगीतानी. आणि ओळीतल्या प्रत्येक शब्दाचा अर्थ उमलावलाय आशाताईंच्या आवाजानी. अशा त्रिवेणी संगमा मुळे हे गाणं अजरामर झालंय. असो... 

पहिल्या दोन ओळी आपल्याला कवीच्या मानसिक स्थितीची ओळख करून देतात. कवी का बरं थकला असेल? हा विचार आपल्या मनात येतो. 

निलाजरेपण, कटीस नेसले निसुगपणा चा शेला 

आत्मस्तुतीचे कुंडल कानी,  गर्व जडविला भाला 

उपभोगाच्या शतकमलांची कंठी घातली माला 

हे कडवं म्हणजे आपल्या स्वतःपुरतं जगण्याची पहिली पायरी आहे. आजूबाजूच्या जगाचा विचार ना करता प्रत्येक कार्य आपण निर्लज्जपणे, निसुगपणे करत राहतो. किंबहुना निर्लज्जपणाचे कवचाचा अंगावर ओढून घेतो. आणि हे कवचच अंगावर अगदी शेल्यासारखं मिरवतो. सतत आत्मस्तुती करून, म्हणजे सतत आपलाच कौतुक आपल्याच कानांनीं ऐकून एक प्रकारचे ते आपले कुंडल होऊन बसते. आणि आजूबाजूच्या जगाचा विचार न करता सतत सगळ्याचा उपभोग घेऊन ते माळेसारखे मिरवणं हेच आपला जीवन होऊन जातं.  ह्या कडव्यापासूनच कळत कि कवी स्वतः पुरता विचार करून जगत आहे, आणि या पद्धतीने जगण्यात आणि मिरवण्यात धन्यता मानत आहे. पण अश्या जगण्यामुळे पुढे काय होतं? 

विषयवासना वाजे वीणा, अतृप्ती दे ताला

अनय अनीती नूपुर पायी, कुसंगती करताला 

लोभ प्रलोभन नाणी फेकी, मजवर आला गेला 

सततच्या स्वार्थी जगण्याने अतृप्ती जणू आयुष्याचा ताल धरू लागली आहे. ह्या अतृप्तीच्या तालावर नाचताना अन्यायाचे आणि अनीतीचे पायी पैंजण आलेत. अतृप्ती आली कि आपण बाहेर आधार शोधू लागतो. आणि स्वार्थी जीवनशैली मुळे आपल्याला आधार न मिळता कुसंगतीच हाती येते. लोभ मध्ये, प्रलोभनांमध्ये वाहावत जाऊन आपल्या आयुष्याची गाडी रुळांवरून कायमची निसटते. आपल्याला काय घडतंय ते कुठेतरी खोलवर जाणवलेलं असतं. आपल्याला मनोमन खात्री पटते कि ह्या दरीतून आपण बाहेर पडू शकणार नाही. आणि इथूनच खऱ्या नैराश्याची सुरुवात होते. 

(To be continued)

Tiger Mom?

I know a lot of judgemental moms. And most moms that I am introduced to immediately categorize me as the “tiger mom.” They think of me as a mom who pushes her son so much that the poor thing ends up having no life at all. Every time people get to know that my child trains for a sport for 7 hours a day, they pity my son and judge me as the worst mom ever.

I have started ignoring the implications hidden in their tones when they say “बापरे  किती दमत असेल ना तो. त्याला दिवसभर बांधल्या सारखेच होत असेल  - नाही का ग ?" The “नाही का ग?” is meant to show me a mirror of my heartlessness.

I can take these remarks casually because I take one look at my son and see how happy he is. Others see a child who is never home. I see a child who gets to live his passion. I get to see a child who is lucky to recognize his passion so early on in his life. I get to see a child who wants to be in the gym even on holidays. I get to see a child who thinks very less of missing a few birthday parties for his sport – a child who is ready to go to any length to reach his gym on time. I get to see his bliss when he is on the floor, or parallels, or rings, or horizontals, or the vault – egged on by his teammates, eager to perform for his coach. I get to see a child who gets teary-eyed when all the hard hours pay off, and he wins the gold.

That child is precious. I will not let the judgment around us get to the child. He is living his dream. A dream that the world knows nothing about.

8 going on 18

My boy is 8 years old now, soon to become 9. He is busy with his school work, sports, and friends. What should have been a blissful pre-teen period for us has become an anxious anticipation of the next tantrum. He is an angel for a moment, and a sanity-defying monster the next. I have heard horror stories about the teen ages from other parents. But I am definitely not prepared for an 8 year-old behaving like an 18-year old in terms of mood swings and temper tantrums.


I and my husband are at our wit's end on how to deal with this. Our boy is hyper-active (physically and mentally). He way ahead of his peers in his knowledge (in any subject), and constantly challenges us with increasingly complex questions. We are so proud of him. But we are definitely not proud of the dark side that he has started showing us, more and more often.


When I think about the whole picture, I realize that maybe he is not getting a 1-on-1 time with us any more. Because of the increased activities in his life, he has free time only on the weekends. That is when I insist that he spend some time catching up with his school work, and other reading. He also wants to spend some time playing with his neighborhood friends, whom he can meet only over the weekends. And he also wants to spend some time watching TV, which he is denied over the week. The end result is that there is absolutely no time to communicate with us.


I came up with a simple solution for that. Have dinner away from home every Friday evening with a strictly 1-on-1 time for us. Let me explain.


My boy is out of the house every day from 6.30 AM to 9.00 PM. After he is home, he is just ready to gobble down his dinner and head to sleep. But on Fridays, he looks forward to be able to stay up a little later than usual because he does not have to go anywhere on Saturdays. However, on Fridays, he is so exhausted, that he ends up going to bed a little earlier than usual. I thought to tap on the 'relaxing mood' that he gets into on Fridays. So since a few weeks, I and my husband pick him up from his Gymnastics practice, and go out for dinner on Fridays. Any small place works for us. We have only 3 criteria: decent food, decent place to sit, and ABSOLUTELY NO ELECTRONIC INTERFERENCE. The last bit is really important. We are not supposed to even look at our cell phones/tablets/laptops etc. during this little dinner meet. we ignore all phone calls and just concentrate on talking to each other. About everything and anything. We don't force our boy to talk about his school. We don't even force him to talk. Sometimes he is just content to listen to us discuss bigger things happening around us. For example, the drought-like situation that we are in. Or the budget planning we would have to do before we could start some redecorations at home. He does not participate, but he is always involved. He has no other options - he cannot immerse himself in an electronic game, nor can he poke his nose in a book while we wait for our food. Sometimes he wants to talk about all that's happening in his little world. That's when we really get to understand the little dilemmas he gets into and solves on his own or with his friends. These snippets are precious. They reassure us that no matter how he misbehaves, he does have integrity. His values are enough to make him a good human being. Our little dinner time gets over in an hour. But that hour means everything for us. We have been able to reconnect with our youngster.


Have his temper tantrums reduced? Has his moody behaviour changed? No.
But we seem to understand him more, and seem to accept his behaviour more. Because we are convinced that he has the capacity to become an extremely charming human being. And that gives us faith that his moody behaviour is only a phase.

The Great Laundry Adventure in the USA

There I was - Little Miss Know-it-all - who left early from work to do laundry. I came home...well the hotel, actually, but my home for 10 days...and I painstakingly found a bag to put my used clothes in. I called the front desk and confirmed that I could get quarters there. I went down to purchase quarters, and I realised I had only 2 dollars on me. Well, you need at least 4 dollars for one load of washing and drying and 1 more dollar to buy detergent. So I traipsed back to my room, got the money, went back down, and purchased the quarters. The next step was to find the laundry room. I could see the breakfast counter (with no breakfast served at this time of the day), then there was a door that said "Employees Only", and another mysteriously locked door. I looked helplessly at the front desk assistant, who immediately came out to help me. She took me through the mysterious door, and there I was in the excersize and the laundry room.

Here came the interesting part. I had to use my quarters and buy detergent. Excellent. But how? Having never done this before (yes I was in the USA before, and no, I have never bought detergent from a detergent dispenser, because I have always bought it at the grocers) I was at a loss about how to use the detergent dispenser. I saw a wall-mounted machine that had pictures of a detergent, bleach, and a softener. These pictures had slots for quarters below them. I put in the quarters in the correct slots and waited. Nothing happened. Then I banged the machine. The coins slightly moved. Then I looked for a handle like how I have seen on TV in casinos. Nothing. Then I scratched my head. Again, nothing. I bent down and examined the bottom of the machine. Yep it was clean. And nope nothing happened. Then I took out the quarters. I was going to turn back, disappointed and slightly embarrased, and suddenly I thought of trying to push the slot itself. Bingo! Gleefully I put the quarters back, and pushed the slot. It came right back outside. I pushed harder with full vengeance. And i got my manna!

Next, I put in the clothes in the washer, put in the detergent in the correct slot, put in the quarters in the correct slot and started the machine. Thankfully, I had used this machine before. So I could still think of myself as Miss Know-it-all.

While my clothes were in the washer, I went for a walk, and then did some treadmill. The time had come to put the clothes in the dryer. I took them out of the washer, and put them in the dryer. I put in the quarters in the machine and was about to start the cycle. That's when I realised something was not quite right. Things seemed too easy! Ah there it was...I had put the clothes in one dryer and paid for a drying cycle in another dryer! Sigh. I moved the clothes again to the correct dryer and first prayed. Then I started the dryer. And I said my thanks to Him for giving me the knowlege and insight to wash and dry my clothes.

The good old-fashioned ways

I just sharpened a pencil for my son the old-fashioned way - by using a blade instead of a sharpener. And I realised how I sometimes crave to live life the old-fashioned way. Of course, "old-fashioned"  for me means the way I lived before I brain-washed myself that I couldn't possible exist without certain "comforts".

I just want to live one day in the simple way that I had before I started getting Miss Uppity-Up. How would I live that day then?

After waking up in the morning I wouldn't have any of the 'exotic' breakfast that I have come to expect every day. I would eat a chapati with milk. A bath would mean using half a bucket of hot water mixed with another half of cold water. A running hot shower would not even be the stuff of dreams. I would use only shikakai to wash my hair. No shampoos, no conditioner. After this, I would wear clean clothes that would be folded in a way that no ironing would be required. If I had to step out of the house, I would wear simple slippers, and walk to my destination. I would not need my vehicles. Or if I had to travel far, I would just use my bicycle. If I would feel thirsty on the road, I would just wait till I headed back home or find a coconut-seller. Bottled water would be nowhere in the picture. For lunch, I would eat whatever was made at home. I would then lie down on a chatai for my afternoon siesta or curl down on the floor with my book. Tea time would mean having tea and chivda or ladu made at home. A walk in the evening would never turn into a shopping expedition. Having dinner would mean eating the same food that I ate for lunch. After a nice, simple, uncomplicated day, I would head to sleep on a nice, simple, uncomplicated mattress on the floor.

There was a time when I actually lived like that. In fact, everyone I knew lived like that. That was the way of life about 20 years ago.

Times changed and I never even realised when my necessities changed. Some things came into my life and definitely made my life more comfortable. Some other things came into my life and made my life more complicated. I never understood when this happened.

Ten years from now I might not even remember my life from the stone age. And I might just yearn for the "simplicity" of my life today.

How do I teach him to lose?

My five-year-old...the apple of my eye. How do I teach him to lose? How do I make him understand that winning is not everything? How do I teach him to understand that even if you do your best, it may still not be enough...but it is enough to make you proud of yourself. In a world where your success is judged by your victories, how do I make him understand that the real victories are not visible at all? How do I teach him to lose the battles in life to win the war of life in the end? How do I teach him to trust himself to give his best and not be the best all the time?

I give him unconditional love. How do I  teach him to love himself unconditionally? How do I teach him to respect himself because the world may not respect him? How do I teach him to look at himself through his own eyes, and not through the eyes of the world? How do I help him gain confidence in himself?

My five-year-old...the apple of my eye. How do I save him from the hard path of learning how to lose? How do I save him from learning how to lose too late?

Ghanashyama Sundara

When I returned from work the other day, I went to a cold and lonely home. It was just me and my son to entertain each other that day. And I was not in the best of moods either.


I thought of going online and listening to some old songs. That was probably the best thing I did during the day.

I stumbled upon an old Marathi classic “Ghanashyama Sundara”. Oh what bliss! The supremely melodious notes of Lata Mangeshkar and Pandit Nagarkar…the soft soothing music that was perfect to wake you from deep, sweet slumber…the whole package is just perfect. There is no other word for that.

The most divine part was the whole image of a beautiful rural morning that the song brought before my eyes. I could actually feel the sun rising and casting his warmth on a world that was made sleepy with the night’s cold blanket. I could hear the birds chirping in the dawn, and the cow bells tinkling in the cowsheds. I could smell the cowsheds and hear the cattle mooing. From my chaotic day, I was transferred within a second to a Utopia.

That is when I realised that words have the power to paint beautiful pictures. And the painter (the poet, in this case – Shahir Honaji) can achieve near-perfection in a picture that can be captured in so few words.

No blogs or essays or odes can achieve the perfection of this song. The perfection of lyrics. The perfection of poetry. The perfection of aesthetics. And of course, the perfection of this painting.