My son's second birthday:without me

My dear son Shubham is turning two tomorrow. and here I am far away from him. I feel immensely sad of this fact. I wish I was there with him to take him to mandir. To call the kids in neighbourhood and cut a cake. oh! to hear the kids singing happy birthday to him.

He had just learned to say 'ama' when I left Nepal for my studies. It was immensely difficult for me to concentrate on my studies without seeing the beautiful face of my son. He is lovely, he is cute. As every mother likes to beleive, I beleive that my son is special, he is very smart.

Though, I have missed the most interesting part of his childhood, I hope that I would be able to contribute in his life in other ways. The other day, I was watching 'The little Prince'. I just can't wait for Shubham to grow up a little more that I can tell him stories. But of course, I felt that my boy understands stories since he was one year old. I remember singing with him. I miss playing hide and seek with him. I remember our 'eating sesssion'. He loved watching dogs and I had to feed him saying that, if he won't eat, dog will eat. Then, later I thought that would make my child turn into a greedy boy, one who takes the things thinking that other people will take that from him. Then, later i started to say,'First you eat and then the dog will eat too'.

Little things, small things matter so much to me. In this age of violence and terrorism, it is every so risky to raise a child. Also I think parenting is becoming every more complex day by day. The values and practices of parenting are changing. The way my parents raised me, I appreciated it. They have always supported me and loved me. My parents generation beleived that children should be kept in control. There was very much less communication between children and parents. These ideas are gradally shifting. Now, I beleive the only effective way to raise a child is with open communication, with lots of love and trust.

I don't know whether this blog will last or not, till my son would be old enough to read this with his very eyes. I hope he does, someday. I am bearing this seperation keeping the words of my honorable dizzu, Angur Baba Joshi's words, ' It is not the quantity of time but the quality of time you spend with your children' that matters. She also had to leave her children for a long time to complete her studies in U.K.

I am lucky in the sense that my parenst are looking after my son so well. I am lucky, I have always been lucky. Its all about feeling lucky. I hope Shubham grows up into a good human being. I have no expections of him being rich. I do expect him to be smart of course. I hope he would grow up as a wonderful person, who cares about other people. I hope my son would be open to people. I hope he would know that life is all about love and care. It is all about what we can give, what we can share with others. I hope that he would gain all the good qualities of his father, that I admire so much. I want him to grow up as patient, dedicated, warm, caring and lovely person as his father is. I don't know about my attributes. I don't have any special attributes to speak of. And yes, I wish he would be patient and loyal to his beleifs like my father. I wish he would learn the meaning of unconditional love from my mother.

In all these expectations and expectations, now I realize that there is very little place for Shubham to be what he wants to be and what he simply is. Thus, Shubham in this day, I feel that you will be what you are and what you want to be. I will love you just the same, the way you are. You have brought so much happiness in our lives. You are indeed Shubham: the lucky, the auspicious one. May god bless you on this wonderful day. Happy Birthday dear!!!!

One inspiring film: Spectatator

These past s 5 months in Australia, I have probably watched most amount of film, I have ever watched in my whole life. Partly because of loneliness, partly because of tiredness and dullness of academic life, I love to watch films. Some films are just fun. You watch a$nd forget. But some films make a lasting impressions in your life. I think, I will forever . remember this Italian movie: Spectator.

The girl secretly watches her neighbour everyday. He is her companion, that she never dares to have. She is lonely. She follows him sometimes, without any serious intention. One day, she knows the man is moving to Rome. On an impulse she takes a train to Rome. She had accidently discovered the man's work address. There she meets a woman, with whom her man has relationship. The girl purposively gets bruished by the woman's car. Then, strike up an aquaintance. Somehow, the girl ends up working after woman. The relationship between man and woman ends somehow. The man begins to be aware about the girl. One day, he waits up for her, just to meet her. He goes after her and says that: I don't know why i am following you, and you don't know me'. That moment is the most intense scene in the film. The girl falls into man's arm and cries and says, 'don't say anything'. At this point, it seems they will have now an happy ending together or get married or something like that. But girl leaves Rome to leave to Turin, where she came from. She leaves a letter explaining everything to woman. But woman does not say anything to man. The man knows she has gone back without explaining and puzzled.

The ending of the film is puzzling, but surprisingly familiar. The spectator is about loneliness, about fear. About how difficult it is to get someone who can understand you in your life. How sensitive relationships are. It also deals with the myth of 'impossible love'. In my analysis, the woman wants to preserve the memory that the man indeed came after her and wanted to know her and may be even love her. But she does not want to pursue a relationship with him, though that was highly possible. She was probably afraid that the memory she has of him, will turn different if she has a relationship with him in real. She just wanted a relationship with him as a spectator. It is a safe relationship, a kind in which you need to know only about your own feelings. The spectator doe snot need to care about the one who is being 'spectatored'

The movie left with me a deep sense of loss to see that the girl did not go back to the man. She did not encourage him in any way, though every emotions in her wanted that relationship to happen.

I admire the way Italian films show human relationships; in raw, in reality. Showing that there are various possibilities to end. And like life, Italian films mostly have no proper endings.

In the beginning, I started this blog to publish my poems online, which i was not able to publish in print. It was a good choice then. But since, it seems i am not poet any more, Poems doesnt seem to come these days. May be dry analytical thinking of academic world has dried all poetry in me. Well, may be i will start writing again, I hope. Just I think, now i should start writing about my experiences about life in general. About myself, my friends. about this world. About love, hate. About risk, changes. About depression, about motivation. All sorts of things. Well, someone may read, but I will be writing for myself. To make myself clear who I am. What I am; thinking, What i am feeling. A new form of 'diary'. In my gender studies course, this year we studied about a victorian couple, who wrote about their relationships. They wrote diaries everyday, describing every single event in their lives. Well, those diaries survived the time and now became a miror of victorian society. May be all this blogging around this world, when we are no more, our blogs would still survive. I think that's important hehe. I may not be able to write anything substantial, but still it is something.