Saturday, March 21, 2009

Á Different Invite


Unlike most wedding cards we receive, this one was different. It included a book of poetry compiled by relatives of the bride. So, for the first time I actually read a wedding card. This duty is normally done by my wife who is promptly blamed for forgetting the wedding day or the venue. I could never forget those trivial but important dates now. I also could not forget Van Morrison’s song included in the invite. I was pleasantly reintroduced to Van Morrison through this device, and I reproduce the song below for your enjoyment.

Days like this

When its not always raining therell be days like this
When theres no one complaining therell be days like this
When everything falls into place like the flick of a switch
Well my mama told me therell be days like this

When you dont need to worry therell be days like this
When no ones in a hurry therell be days like this
When you dont get betrayed by that old judas kiss
Oh my mama told me therell be days like this

When you dont need an answer therell be days like this
When you dont meet a chancer therell be days like this
When all the parts of the puzzle start to look like they f it
Then I must remember therell be days like this

When everyone is up front and theyre not playing tricks
When you dont have no freeloaders out to get their kicks
When its nobodys business the way that you wanna live
I just have to remember therell be days like this

When no one steps on my dreams therell be days like this
When people understand what I mean therell be days like this
When you ring out the changes of how everything is
Well my mama told me therell be days like this



Odds and Ends

Have you noticed the lack of any rancour and adrenalin pumping in-your-face aggression in the current India-New Zealand? I credit this to Daniel Vettori and his team mates, who have refused to be drawn in Aussie-like into alpha-male contests or as they justify- psychological warfare. I always thought Aussie on field behaviour was more to do with being bad losers, rather than any scientific approach to overawing competition. So, all credit to the black caps for keeping the contest clean, and to the men in blue for reciprocating. Let cricket win at the end of the day.

Delhi Chronicles

The spring is here, and so are exam times for the kids. The X and XII class kids are taking their exams, and everyone is freaked out. When the kid has an exam, the whole family accompanies the kid to the exam centre and wait for three hours outside, worrying and fretting. In fact when I refused to accompany my kid to the exam centre on grounds of “When I took the exams I went on a DTC bus, and my parents were barely aware of this momentous event in my life” , I was properly castigated for being a delinquent dad. Examples were thrown at me, on how so-and-so’s dad stood in the sun for the entire three hour duration of the exam. I ignored all such exhortations on the grounds sheer madness – there is no way standing in the sun will help your kid get more marks. Of course, when the results are in, everyone in the extended family and circle of friends want to know the marks, and the parents can be squirming if the results are not in the 90s.

The other effect we note is that the child is now hugely dependent on approval ratings of parents which may be based on system generated numbers. This dependency can, and does, become a handicap when the child has to take control of his destiny- choosing a career or life partner. A middle aged man living with his parents is quite common in India, which may have its positives as far as looking after the aged is concerned, but is it suffocating the man-child? I think we can do better if we let the child decide his future and stop worrying about the system-oriented marking scheme. Unless the child is passionate about the subject he picks up as a life long study, I doubt the child can sustain in his career.

1 comment:

Anonymous said...

full points, couldn't agree with you more, somewhere down the line the parents are trying to achieve what they could not.