NaBloPoMo Day 10 : Food and Amma

There is an ad for Everest Masala where a woman, sitting in office, visualizes her daughter asking about what’s for dinner, then reaches home to find hubby and son also asking the same question. In my eyes, this woman is actually some kind of a saint because her frustration only appears to be with ‘what’ to make different every day. Not for her the gritting of teeth that ensues when women living in many normal, real-life families get asked this question and wonder ‘why’ they have to be the ones always cooking up interesting meals after a tiring day of work either at home or outside the home, while everyone else just sits around, waiting for the food to materialize on their plates.

That woman in the ad is lucky, because her quandary is easily solved by using the brand of masala being advertised. As if the other ingredients appeared out of thin air and the vegetables cut themselves and the vessels cleaned themselves.

Of course I’m not even considering touching on the topic of gender roles that ad portrays because except on days when I'm very, very tired, I'm generally okay with the fact that I do the cooking single-handedly in my home.  There are other women with strong ideas on this issue, who'd probably call me a traitor to the cause of feminism, who’ve written about it and you can read it here.

But watching that ad did remind me of how our mothers cooked up tasty meals without the help of the ready-made masalas. They did all the hard work at home – roasting the spices, grinding them and using a variety of ingredients to cook elaborate meals and delectable snacks to fill the stomachs of their multiple kids.

My mother also belonged to this category and to her six daughters, all she made tasted heavenly. I have especially fond memories of the Gokulashthami bhakshanam she would prepare – about 4 or five varieties each of sweets and savories. The preparations started two days before the festival and they would all be ready in record time, with very little if any, contribution from us daughters who were busy studying. 

Then, on the afternoon of Gokulashthami, the festivities would begin with us setting up the mandapam and tying all these items inside it, for Krishna to consume. After the puja was over late in the night, Amma would hand out a sample of each of these dishes she had prepared, leaving us with little room for dinner, but no one had any problems with that.

When I got married, I made sure I had all my mother’s recipes neatly written in a diary. I used to refer often to it when I first started cooking. Over time, as my cooking skills improved, the frequency of peeping into it reduced. But till today, when I need to make any of the special sweets and savories for the festivals, out comes the diary with its recipes and elaborate instructions as dictated by Amma.


To this day, this diary counts among one of my most precious of possessions. Not because I need it to rustle up meals every day, but because looking through its pages, reading the recipes, reminds me of how a particular dish made by Amma tasted. 

More importantly, on the rare occasions when I’m irked that having to cook takes time away from some other activity I’d rather be doing (like writing or reading), it reminds me to cook with patience and love for the people who are going to be consuming it.

It reminds me that food for the body is as important as food for the soul. For, as Swami Vivekananda famously pointed out, what use is Vedanta to the one with an empty stomach?

NaBloPoMo Day 9 : One Random Parenting Tip

A few years ago, when my son was about 8 years old, he expressed an opinion about something that was contrary to our immediate family’s views. When asked from where he had got that idea, he mentioned that he’d heard it when he stayed over at a relative’s house. We discussed it with him to help him understand why that relative had that opinion, and why our opinion differed; at no point did we tell him that person was wrong for the simple reason that he wasn’t – it was his perspective, born out of his life experiences.

Someone else who was present during this discussion later commented on it, saying that this is the reason why we must not allow our kids to spend more time with certain relatives. Somehow, this made me feel a bit uncomfortable and I wondered if my approach of letting my kid spend time with other adults besides us parents was wrong.

A few months after this incident, I happened to attend a life skills training workshop at NIMHANS. The trainer, who was a specialist in Child and Adolescent Psychiatry, made a pertinent point. She said that we must encourage children to have a trusting, deep relationship with some adult other than the parents or primary caregivers – this could be anyone else – a relative, a family friend, a teacher or even a friend’s parent. Having such relationships helps to improve the emotional and social development of a child. An adult whom a child trusts, respects and values may also be able to help the child in cases when the child is not willing – for whatever reason – to listen to the parents.

Listening to this advice, I felt reassured about our approach of letting our child interact with other adults. There is the chance that as in that incident I mentioned before, he may pick up something that doesn’t gel with our way of thinking or doing things. However, as long as we encourage an open communication and teach him to think things out rather than blindly accept what someone says – whether it is us or the other relatives – it should be quite okay.

In today’s social setup, with nuclear families on the rise, our kids are deprived of the social safety net of the ancient joint family system. To discuss the strengths and weaknesses of these family systems is beyond the purview of this particular post. However, what is undeniable is that exposing our kids to a variety of opinions and thoughts will equip them to cope better when they grow into adults and have to deal with the fact that the world’s way of looking at things may be different from theirs.

NaBloPoMo Day 8: How to Mind Your Mind

Many people tell me that reading my posts makes them feel they are actually experiencing that which I’m describing. They compliment me on my power of observation and ability to give words to accurately reflect something as it happens. I generally accept that compliment with a graceful ‘thank you’ and then, if they are willing to linger on the topic, I say it isn’t that difficult; they could do it too if they tried.

Today as I sat for a few minutes on the bench in the park after my evening walk, my gaze wandered and settled idly on the apartment complex that loomed in the distance. I noticed a fan running in one of the homes; in another, there were clothes hanging out to dry on a stand in the balcony. Lights were on in some of the houses; other blocks appeared unlighted. I could see someone walking around in another home.

I’m sure many other people may also look at the same apartment complex but not observe all I did. That’s because in their minds, there are other thoughts running in the background. So, they’re not really there in this moment and therefore, the eyes see, but the mind doesn’t register what is being seen. To be able to actually see what is right in front of you requires you to be totally in that moment, totally aware. That is, you need to be mindful.

One of the ways of becoming mindful is to practice what is called as ‘Mindfulness Meditation.’ Lots of information is available on what it is and how it must be done. At its simplest, it involves

1. Sitting silently in a comfortable posture in a quiet place where you won’t be disturbed

2. Focusing your mind on your breath as it moves in and out

3. Noticing when your mind wanders away, and gently bringing it back to focus again on the breath

If you start doing this for about 10 minutes once or twice a day, you will gradually notice a quieting of the mind during that time. ‘Gradually’ is a relative term; for some it may be days, for others it may be weeks or even months. Over time, as the mind grows quieter, you realize that you are able to focus on what is happening in the now, because the background noise of mental chatter has reduced.

Along with the actual practice of mindful meditation, there are other things you can do to improve your mindfulness.

· Stop operating on autopilot. Even when you’re doing something you’ve grown used to doing mechanically (like say, brushing your teeth), give the task on hand your undivided attention and do it with mindfulness.

· Unitask at least some of your activities. For example, when you’re drinking tea – only drink tea, don’t read the newspaper or check your phone messages. Focus attention on how the tea’s heat feels on your tongue; feel the aroma tickling your nostrils, notice the taste of it in your mouth.

· Do something creative – singing, playing an instrument, painting, baking, doodling – it will help you focus your mind on one single activity and other thoughts will reduce.

· Spend time with nature on a daily basis – even if it’s something as simple as taking a walk in a park. Notice the different plants, pay attention to how they differ in the colour, shape and arrangement of the leaves.

· Seek out new experiences – watch a play, read a different type of book, talk to someone you don’t know, and while doing all this, ask yourself, "How am I responding to the experience?"

· For a few moments every day, take a look at your feelings in that moment without trying to push it away; give a label to the feeling using different adjectives that indicate a particular nuance. Are you displeased, irritated, annoyed, vexed, angry or enraged?

Coming back to the comment about my being able to observe things, I again repeat – the reason why I notice so much is because I pay attention. Perhaps it is a result of my training during my post-graduation which happens to be in Quality Assurance. While working on the research project at one of the pharma companies, we were trained to observe everything that was happening in the plant. Pertinent points were to be noted and reported. Because it wasn’t always possible to note down everything, I made a habit of storing the information within the brain.

Over time, as my involvement with spiritual practice grew, this took on the form of observing my own emotions with greater clarity. Practice makes perfect. Today, I am able to watch myself watching things and use inputs from both actions to write. It's so simple - you can do it, too.

NaBloPoMo Day 7: What's in a Name?

At the recent DISHA program, the guest speaker was a soft-spoken, well-traveled scholar and expert on topics ranging from thermodynamics to Vedanta. Narrating his experiences in Turkey, he told us about an interaction with a group of students who were learning yoga. He had asked those students for their names and also if they knew what those names meant. Some of them did; some didn’t, and some were irked by his question, wondering what was the big deal? 



He explained to them how in India, we have names that have some underlying meaning and gave them a few examples. Intrigued, they asked him to give them some such names and at random, because he didn’t know them well enough to match names to personality, he gave these students a new name (like Karuna, Pavitra and so on) and also explained what it meant. To his surprise, after a few years, when he met the student he had named Karuna, she told him that ever since the day she got that name and learned its meaning, she had stopped getting angry! Some of the other students too expressed similar experiences.

This example brings out beautifully the power of association. In psychology, association is the term used to explain a connection between ideas, feelings and behavior on an unconscious or conscious level.

Long before knowing about this power of association, I have experienced its effects. Probably when I was in my teens, I learned that my name Anasuya means “without jealousy” (An – without, Asuya – jealousy). Without anyone telling me so in as many terms, I remember feeling I must live up to that name. Anytime I felt a twinge of envy at someone for being something I wasn’t – tall, slender, good-looking – I mentally chastised myself saying it’s against the nature of my name to feel that way. I guess that effect rubbed off on me so much that as I grew older and realized there were many more things I wasn’t, I never felt envious of anyone. Whenever I noticed someone better than me in any way, I sought to understand the process of how they got to where they were and tried to emulate them.

What a powerful tool we’ve been blessed with in the form of a name that stands for some quality or a deity who is a repository of some desirable qualities. If only we cultivate a conscious awareness of this aspect, perhaps it would be easier to effect a small change in ourselves.

NaBloPoMo Day 6: How Much Space Does a Tree Need?

Thudddddd !!!!!!!!!!!!

Shocked by the vibration that accompanied the loud noise of something crashing, I rushed outside my house. This was the sight that greeted my eyes…

The pipe that ran along the outside of our neighbour’s home had shattered and smashed onto the ground below. Looking up, I noticed there was a man who was hacking away at the upper part of the pipe that continued to stubbornly hug the building.

Once he had finished cutting it away, I confirmed it was safe to take a closer look and what I saw was astounding.

There was a tree that had grown right through the pipe!

It was such an amazing sight that I rushed to click these pictures before the workers dragged the pipe away.

As I later pondered over the phenomenon I had witnessed, two things struck me hard.

1. How strong is the natural instinct for growth – some seeds lying in the vicinity of the pipe’s outlet had found nutrition in it’s contents, germinated, and grown into a huge structure even within the rigid confines imposed by the pipe’s structure.

2. How much difference the surrounding conditions make to growth - what had grown into a knotty, woody, narrow and hard structure within the damp and dark space within the pipe might have turned into a beautiful, green, flexible, shade-giving tree if it had got the opportunity to grow freely in an open space.

By nature, people too are bound to grow. What we need to ponder over is this – are we providing ourselves and those around us the right environment for positive growth? 

NaBloPoMo Day 5: Giving DISHA to lives

A group of about 10 to 12 girls were sitting in a circle and talking their hearts out. One girl refused to participate and just sat sullen, watching and listening. When everyone had finished, she finally opened up. Before coming to this meeting, she had made up her mind to commit suicide; but listening to the other participants narrate their problems, she had realized that her difficulties were nothing in comparison. She said she would take them as a challenge and prove her mettle by making a mark for herself in the world.

This was one of the most moving vignettes shared during the DISHA coordinator’s enrichment program I attended today.

Caught in a hectic lifestyle, stressed by the need to fit in with their peers, having to compete for recognition, with no one to listen without judging or advising, our youngsters may be social media savvy but emotionally, they are often lost.

During the DISHA workshops for college students, we have a group counseling session where one counselor sits with a small group of students, encouraging them to think and talk about their strengths, weaknesses and challenges. We ask them to share how they have felt when their actions brought someone joy or pain.

It is amazing how, voluntarily, these young people open up and share their innermost thoughts and feelings, sometimes even weeping, grateful for the opportunity to give voice to burdens they’ve been bearing silently. They say the process is cathartic – they feel relieved and cleansed and ready to face the world yet again.

As the DISHA coordinators shared many such of their experiences during today’s program, the common thread running through it all was the hard-hitting realization of how a small act of reaching out from our side has the potential to touch some youngster’s life in such a deep way.

Another aspect that almost all the coordinators spoke about was how these opportunities to interact with the youth act as a personal learning process, opening their eyes to the immense promise the youngsters show. 

All in all, it turns out that DISHA is fulfilling its role of enriching and providing direction to many, many lives.

NaBloPoMo Day 4: To Brood or Not to Brood...

He: Why do you have to go? What’s the need? It’s not the done thing in our family.

She 1: Why are you so stubborn? It’s not as if I’m going alone. It’s not the done thing because you’re the one who’s always saying no!

She 2 (desperately to She 1, with tears in her eyes and a shaky voice): Why can’t you just leave it alone and listen to what he says? Why must you argue so much for such a small thing?

What’s the scenario that comes to mind when you read this dialogue? Most likely you’ll say

“He” – father

“She 1” – daughter

“She 2” – mother

You’re mostly right…except for “She 2.” Not mother…younger daughter. Younger than the older one by 11 years. Me, to be precise.

As I ponder over what to write today, a statement from a friend’s email coalesces with two seemingly different topics. I follow this train of thought and suddenly, this buried memory of my teenage years dredges itself up.

The people I live with tell me I analyze too much. Wait – “analyze” is my word; they say “brood.” My friend’s email echoes those sentiments. And I realize this is the answer to another friend’s question, asking to know what is it that’s bad in me which I absolutely love. (Sorry to disappoint you Smitha – I know this isn’t exactly what you had in mind, but it’ll have to suffice for now)

That teenage incident was a typical example of how I’d respond to situations of conflict. Keep my mouth shut – check. Not think about it – check. Not talk about it – bigger check. Pretend it doesn’t exist – check. Convince myself it doesn’t matter – check. Sacrifice something I like – check. I’d do all I humanly could to avoid facing conflict.

This carried over well into my young adult years. I had this beatific concept that I would never ever go to bed on a discordant note. Whatever the problem, I had to make it better by apologizing as if it was all entirely my fault. Even when it wasn’t. Because avoiding those “low” feelings that result from conflict was more important to me than dealing with it.

Over time, I began to realize that things you brush under the carpet don’t disappear. They gather mildew, they start rotting and emit a horrible stench until one day, you’re forced to confront a mess that’s much, much bigger than the small mass you initially hid with your misplaced apologies.

That’s when I began analyzing stuff. Apportioning blame where it is due whether it is to myself or someone else. Waiting to think things through from all possible angles without rushing in to apologize. And not hesitating to apologize when I found I was the errant one. Talking about stuff. Looking at the minutiae of my own actions to find out if there’s something I could have done differently, looking at the other’s actions to understand where it comes from. Then deciding whether I need to modify my interactions or just empathize, accept and get on with it. Learning lessons from the incident to avoid making the same mistake again.

For, there’s a difference between solving a problem and learning problem-solving skills.

When I have a difficult situation, of course I need to get across it. But unless I use that situation to learn some generic techniques to cope, the next difficulty will find me floundering again, going through the same heartbreak, repeating the same mindless cycle.


People think I brood. In that sense it is a bad thing. But I don’t brood in the sense of worry. I analyze things. And that’s why I love that about me. Although the process is a painful one, I learn. I improve. I understand where people are coming from. And that helps me look at them – and myself – with less criticism and more love.