I LOOKED AWAY...

I looked at Death

With a little smile

He had to wait

A long while....

 

I looked at Despair

And turned away

He had no power

To ruin my day...

 

I looked at Anger

He could not imprison me

My mind and soul

Would always be free...

 

I looked at Pity

I wanted no part

Every day to me

Was a new start...

 

And then I decided

One fine day

I would stop looking

And just turn away...

 

None of these demons

Can conquer my soul

I do not need these emotions

I am complete and whole....

 

Nimmou Nilakantan

March 3rd 2024

Baa Baa Black Sheep

BAA BAA BLACK SHEEP 

Every family does not have a Black Sheep..but they definitely have a Scapegoat! Sheep or goat..same family, different genre.

 The scapegoat becomes the butt of the family angst by difference not default. They are usually different by nature, looks, achievements but all of them possess that defining quality that sets them apart from the rest of the sheep.

 It could be the idealist born into the family of cynics, the cheery optimist among the hard core depressives, the visionary who refuses to follow the family dream - the reasons are varied but the outcome is always the same.

 He/she becomes branded and whatever they do they become subject to derision, anger, ridicule, blame and finally the dreaded judgment is pronounced- 'Black sheep of the family'.

 But, unlike the nursery rhyme he/she refuses to part with his/ her dreams or wool. Instead, they pack their bags, all three bagfuls and move far away from the judgemental flock.

 Even with distance they cannot escape the censure of being 'The Scapegoat' All subsequent ills that befall the family are a direct consequence of his/her actions- did not keep in touch with the family so parents died broken hearted ( don't factor in the diabetes or cholesterol!) did not follow the family business so it went legs up..the list is endless. 

Wear the badge with honour...'Scapegoat'and flee the family of sheep!

Nimmou Nilakantan

A long bout of illness, several doctors, many, many tests and all negative reports with the final diagnosis of 'viral infection'(not Covid) inspired this post. However, for the many wolves out there, there are several angels too! C'est la vie! I am humbled by their dedication and grateful to them. For the others...well, once I have vented in writing it don't matter no more! All tongue and all cheek...

 HOW TO SURVIVE THOSE WOLVES IN WHITECOATS

 

Like hardened criminals who have various lawyers on their speed dial, we commoners also have various Doctors in our Contact list. One will not do anymore for the multitude of ailments that we are prone to after the Pandemic. How do we find the truly caring Doctors who are dedicated to their profession amongst the many who do not give a damn for anything but the moolah you represent? How does one weed out those wolves in white coats? Some wolves are easy to spot… they are among those who have converted their residence garages into a fancy clinic where they see patients on some evenings after their hospital consultations. The patient is now parked there instead of the Porsche he helped in funding! For the more elusive wolves here are a few pointers I picked up the hard way….

 

1) BEWARE THE APPEARANCE BIAS…. We tend to give more credibility to Doctors who look the part, are well turned out and communicate well. Unfortunately the path to their sartorial elegance has been paved by gullible people like us – taken in with the exterior toppings and fancy degrees. Unless he is skilled and empathetic it does not matter if he looks like an onion seller or does not mince words. Remember the wolf in sheep’s clothing? Unless his fancy looks and manner match up to his diagnosis and treatment, he is not the real deal…go to the next one on that Contact list so that a listing on the Obituary section is not next…

 

2) “BY APPOINTMENT ONLY…” the minute your Doctor states this – RUN – in the opposite direction! Bad enough he is seeing you in his garage where a car should be parked and not a human – he is giving you timings to be ill? So, if you do not fall ill on Monday, Wednesday, Friday between 6 and 8 pm (his garage timings) sorry, bad luck. This is a Designer Doctor (designed to part you from your money, not illness) and you would be well advised to seek an appointment with a Doctor who sees patients every day in his clinic or at least do an online consultation or guide you to a colleague in case they are full up. Back away from this garage mechanic…

 

3) TESTING, TESTING, TESTING…. And then there are those Doctors who will not even bother to put a stethoscope on your chest – it is hidden away in an unopened drawer and never put to use. With an arsenal of antibiotics at their disposal why bother wasting time? And, when they do ask you to open your mouth they will ensure they are one and a half feet away and shine a little torch from that safe distance. Forget listening to symptoms or checking your B.P…. the prescription pad appears and every test, scan and X-ray is ordered and then out comes the receipt book and consultation fee is gobbled before you can blink. The very fact that every time you enter the garage it is swarming with medical representatives should give you a clue. See those black coats and run before you see this white coat….

 

4) THE ANTIBIOTIC KING AND QUEEN….you have a cold? Take an antibiotic. Cough – antibiotic. Fever – more antibiotics and it does not matter that antibiotics are ineffective for viral infections. The Doc has to please the black coat Medical Representative and try out all the latest antibiotics on you even where a simple Disprin/Dolo or chicken soup would suffice. Back out, do a U-turn and flee from this antibiotic happy Doctor’s garage unless you want to fund the BMW, Mercedes and Ferrari as well….

And finally, when you have a fever or cold, your GP does not need a string of alphabets behind his or her name. You need a medical practitioner who looks, listens, touches and is not ready with his finger on the antibiotic trigger! Unless warranted most minor illnesses are cured by good food and adequate rest, but that does not require a Doctor’s prescription does it? So, the next time you are tempted to enter that garage converted to a clinic, pause, reflect and reverse! Otherwise you just might end up with your body on overdrive and your bank balance on overdraft!

 

Nimmou Nilakantan

 

CHILDREN ARE PEOPLE TOO!

In January 2016 I wrote an article and published it in my blog (nimmou.blogspot.com) called ‘Parents are People too’ where I took pot shots at our grown up children. Six years later I am doing an about face and have written a kind article about our children - it is all in the title and before I am branded a turn coat (yes I am!) - remember the old saying is true- ‘If the shoe fits…’ Do read with an open mind and a ready laugh…remember in the court of life as is in the courtroom, for every prosecution there is a defence or in layman terms, there are two sides to every coin. Here is the other side….

Whoever said that the ‘Child is the Father of the Man’ got it wrong- and I don’t care of it was a famous poet or what he meant by it. All I know is that our children should never become our parents or be forced to adopt the role of a caretaker or caregiver unless it is by their free choice. Life is a game of chess but nowhere in the User’s Manual does it say that the parents are the Kings and Queens and the kids become the hapless Pawns. How do we prevent this role reversal that usually happens when we slip into old age/dotage and they become middle aged? Here are my pointers for prevention…

 1) Your children are not your mops/brooms or sponges to soak up all your complaints of an unfair world nor do they have to clean up the mess you make…literally and figuratively. Oh yeah, yeah, you did the same when they were little people but remember my opening salvo about role reversal? The child can never be the parent- the poet was wrong!

 2) Respect boundaries….you do not have to spill the beans on every dirty little secret in your life because you think you have a captive audience. Remember while you are doing that, they have a life too which you are cannibalizing with your daily trivia. Talk to a friend, talk to your spouse (a deaf ear is better than a captive one!) talk to your counsellor or just talk to the goddamn wall! But spare your child the horrors of your daily battle with an unfair world….

 3) When our kids were little we ensured their good health – now when they are grown up all we can talk about ad nauseum is our own! Whether it is that elusive bowel movement or even harder to capture forty winks, we have somehow made a Doogie Howser M.D of our adult progeny. Go to your G.P and for a nominal fee you can hold him hostage for the same twenty minutes. Please spare your kids even if they have M.D after their names and you paid a hefty sum to put it there. They paid their debt at birth by fulfilling your greatest dream- to be a parent. The score is even- move on! There are no winners in this game…

 4) Your children are not your friends – even if you are lonely and friendless. With an online world of infinite possibilities why would you want them to hang out with you? Find someone your own age that you can bond with about shared grievances especially that ‘sharp ingratitude worse than a serpent’s tooth’ (the great Bard got that right!) and when those ingrates you nurtured choose to hang out with you, give in with grace and a laden table. With the snipping of the umbilical cord let’s face it- the strongest bond is food- loads of it prepared by a mother’s loving hand… “Ma ka khana” now these are words of wisdom and immortality…

 And finally…remember your children have the power vested in them to give you a second chance after you screwed up their childhood and continue doing a fair job of their adulthood too. Your grandchildren are your ticket to redemption and your salvation too. Like the ‘Grand Wizard’ the title of ‘Grandparent’ confers magic in our lives and the power to grant that magic lies in your children’s hands. All your efforts in rearing them did not go in vain- those ingrates just do not know yet what it is to bear the cross of old age. Trust in Karma rather than trying to lasso these bulls. One day, their kids will grow up and they will be walking in your shoes. The boot will be on the other foot – till then kindly desist from planting it where the sun don’t shine…..

 Nimmou Nilakantan

4^th Jan 2023

 

 

DECEMBER SADNESS

 

Every year like clockwork, around mid-December, the melancholia sets in. Along with the winter chill, a cold dread infuses my heart and my mind becomes numb to any warm emotion. For many years I wondered why this happened. Was it S.A.D (Seasonal Affliction Disorder) or was I just sad? And then it hit me like a thunderbolt- the last call I got from Amma was on the 15^th of December 2011- a week before she passed away.

She was so frail, so down but still with her gasping breath she made the effort to dial my number and call me. I listened to her, a thing I never did without interruption or contradiction when she was hale and hearty, and felt a nameless dread come over me.

I knew, in my bones I knew, the end was near. And there was nothing I could do to prevent it from happening. And every year, without fail around the same time, the loss of Amma reaches out and wraps my body mind and soul in its sad embrace…

Amma became very lonely towards the end of her life and that is the imprint she left on my heart. It dawned on me that one can laugh, joke, be surrounded by loved ones but sometimes there are places within us where the darkness remains and no warmth can penetrate. Amma’s life was not cosy, especially towards the end. As her health failed and she was confined to her bedroom watching T.V and connecting to people over the phone, her isolation grew….

I was so lucky to have her as a mother- I realize that now. She was the footprint I wanted to plant my feet in. She was fearless, feisty and always had something to say. Did I inherit that? Maybe in small dribs and drabs but in her I saw a woman who tried so hard- with family, with friends, with the poor, with strangers and yet when she died despite her constant reaching out to people she felt so alone….

So, when I feel that sense of isolation I resist the urge to reach out to others. Amma’s life taught me one thing- that connection to others is important but nothing is more important than the connection to one’s self…I need to nurture that flame within rather than use it only to shed light or share warmth with others.

 Amma had a large heart and yet it was the very same heart that gave up on her. Our heart has to connect with our own body, mind and soul before it links to others. We come first – and that was the diktat Amma never followed- she placed all else before her…

Goodbye Kamala my dearest Amma- I hope this strange sadness I feel every December slowly fades away. It has been eleven years since you last spoke to me. The bond will always remain between us but it is time to let the sadness go. I have to change my role- from being only defined as a mother, wife, daughter and sister or friend- I will first be me, the main protagonist in my own life until the curtains come down.

And that is a lesson I have learned watching your life Amma. Rest in peace- you live on and are loved in the many hearts you touched.

Your loving daughter,

Nimmou

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

LIFE IS LIKE A WASHING MACHINE…

Our lives are much like a washing machine…. We are all at different junctures of the cycle and yet we have enough common ground to keep our life cycle going without pressing STOP or CANCEL, unless we want to or have to…

When we are thick into the spin cycle and it seems the circle of pain and misery will keep us tossing around endlessly, we look at others who are in the final whirl- ready to go to the dryer and be hung out but still clinging on to hope and faith. Those are the aged, the infirm and yes, our old parents…tossed around in life with every drop of moisture being squeezed out of them but never giving up till it is time for the eternal STOP.

 As for our kids? Rinse and repeat, rinse and repeat- the water of life keeps pouring on their heads- jobs, marriage, their kids, society, peer pressure and yes, old parents and they too get tossed around the same cycle with no STOP in sight…

 If we could just embrace where we are at the cycle, go through each stage and know that in the end like the laundry load we will be clean when we come to rest and when we are hung out to dry we may still be able to cherish the last glimpse of the beautiful world outside.

 Even if we find that we are tossed into the dryer with a sheet of lint- we still have one more cycle, one more journey, one more revolution to go through before the final STOP.

 Perspective folks – look for that silver lining, that spoonful of detergent, the fragrant fabric softener, that hardy sheet of lint and know this- for every beginning there is an end…just enjoy the ride!

 

Nimmou Nilakantan

August 22^nd 2022

MOTHER’S DAY MUSINGS….

 

Being a Mother is the toughest job on earth they say…

 

Firstly, it is NOT a job – a calling, a blessing, a gift, a spiritual journey, a pain in the ass but definitely NOT a job! There is no 9-5 and it is all work from home. Long before Covid struck and sent the world and its workforce into a collective moan about having to work from home – our Moms were doing just that! They were on call 24/7 and none of them were on Zoom.

 

There was no pay or big fat bonus for their work nor any days off to jet into the Maldives and post on Instagram that letting down of hair and hanging out with buddies…full time Moms got no pay, no vacay and an endless run of bad hair days. Forget letting it down – it remained a crow’s nest till baby took its first steps and after that it lay in forlorn bunches in the bathroom drain as Mom ran after her toddler. And, just when it regained its former luster and bounce the first pimple appeared and the cycle was on START once again…

 

‘Old Age’ and ‘full time’  Moms had it tough compared to the ‘New Age’ Mom also known by her many monikers – Super woman, master juggler, career girl, time management guru, multi-tasker par excellence, media savvy and sourcing the best help during working hours, genius. Old age Mom also multi-tasked but alas without a title, pay or media support she had to find comfort where she could.

 

 She cooked (no Swiggy, Zomato, Door dash or cook/nanny reporting for daily duty) cleaned, cribbed, comforted, counselled, co-ordinated – the list of ‘C’s’ were endless but she would never get the title of CEO – title poor but work rich!

 

And yet, when this generation of kids brought up by these ‘jobless’ mothers became super successful in their chosen field and multi-billionaires they first invariably thanked their Moms and expressed their heartfelt gratitude and love for this one person whose love and nurturing made it possible.

 

Today I am proud that my sons became kind and loving humans and successful working professionals (if I had a daughter, ditto!) I did not work when they were growing up – to me being a Mom was hard work and yes there were days when I would fall apart at the enormity and pressure and isolation of motherhood. I would wish I had a paying job, or hang out with adults or got lots of pats on my back for what I did but on my low days it was always a smile that put me back on the rails, a hug, a ‘I love you Ma’ whispered in my ear or an innocent kiss planted on my face.

 

I am grateful and blessed that I did not have to be the bread winner of the family or have to supplement the income by getting a job as so many Moms of today. A big salute to all those Moms who raised fine kids and worked full time jobs. But, I say this again – Motherhood is NOT a job.

 

You cannot put a price on a feeling and you cannot calculate the cost of the most valuable emotion of the heart – love. And, that is what being a Mom is –pure love without the bells and whistles – my mother taught me that.  And, I wouldn’t trade that lesson or that feeling for the world….

 

HAPPY MOTHER’S DAY

Nimmou Nilakantan

May 8^th2022