Monday, September 29, 2014

Am I a superwoman?

" you are supermom"
"you are super woman"
" you balance everything perfectly"
"how do you manage to find time to do everything"

Its been a while that I have been asked these questions. And I truly thank all those who have complemented me on my supposed ability to "balance everything". Today, I wish to share with you what I think about all these questions and the reality that I am living with. 

I am married. I have two sons. I work in University. I love reading, beyond text books and academic article that I teach. I love writing. I love being in social media, expressing my opinions and views. I love cooking. I love travelling. I love meeting and having coffee with interesting people. 

First things first, I do not believe in notion of anything "super". So, I am not 'supermom" and "superwoman" period. I am actually not even a "good mother" according to social standards of Nepali motherhood. There has been times, when I do not always cook healthy meals for my children, though I try. There has been time, when I have been absent from important event of my children's lives: their birthdays, their parent's day, results day. I always do not tell them stories before they go to bed. I sometimes even forget to kiss them goodnight. There has been times when I drag my kids along ( particularly Shubham, older one) to social functions and official meetings because there was no other option. He would sit whole day, scribbling in his notebook. He was happy at times, but he wanted meeting to end too quickly. I would glance towards him few feet away, anxious how he is feeling. And at the same time, feeling deep sense of guilt for not being able to concentrate fully in the meeting. 

Yes, Guilt is the most frequent emotion I experience these days. Guilt for not being a good mother. Guilt for not being a professional. So, many of you who have said I have balance in my life, is terribly wrong. My life is terribly lop sided. And I am okay with it. I see myself as a clown with a ball game. You know the one who throws many balls in the air and catches them one by one. In my case, I throw many balls in the air, but I catch only few at one time, I sometimes deliberately drop few balls, because I understand my limitations. Sometimes, the balls that I so much wanted to catch go missing because I was not fast enough, I was not swift enough because you see I had to catch another more important ball. So, I do not balance everything perfectly. I just do what I can. 

While writing all this, I sound like a martyr, which I am not. While writing these lines, it would be cruel if I do not acknowledge how blessed and lucky I am. First of all, I am highly supported by my parents. They help look after my sons. My mother takes most of the responsibility in kitchen. I have a helper, I need her. Without her, my life will be crazy. My husband is immensely supportive. He is the best father I have ever seen. We share the task. If I cook, he feeds. If he baths children, I give them oil massage. 

Had I been working a "9 to 5" job, which I cannot tolerate, things would  have been easier perhaps. I would go to office, do whatever needs to be done and be back home and do all household tasks.But being in academia has its own perks and downside. Perks is that, working hours are flexible  except the lectures. I can prepare for lectures anywhere I want, even at home. I can do research, I can write. But downside of this is,if you are ambitious in academia, if you are not satisfied just to "teach" but to do more, its a big headache. It means, you apply for fellowships, you do research, you write actively, you appear in media, you maintain networks, you meet people, you have social obligations, social events and lectures to attend. It often means, you do most of your work at home. "Home" no more becomes a place to come and rest: but a place where you work extra hours.

I do this because, I am ambitious. I have always wanted to do more and be more. This very ambition is the reason that I am what today, which is not much. I wish to do more, be more. You see, this very reason spoils the fun out of my life. There has been times, when I cannot enjoy a good book, because I feel I should be reading something serious instead. It has been a while since I went to cinema hall, probably years to watch the latest Bollywood flick. But it does not mean, I do not enjoy these things. I do, a lot actually. 

Sometimes, I watch all latest movies whole night. I somehow read the books I wish to read during I commute in crowded micro buses and tempos. I often read newspaper while I eat, seriously. 

I love to write. But most of the time, I suffer from guilt of not being able to write. I equally suffer from not being able to write well. Words play in my mind and heart in odd hours of day and night, when I do not have luxury to grab pen, paper or laptop. by the time, I do, then the precious thoughts are gone. And when I have time to write, I do not and cannot write either, because when it is too much.I just feel " मरि लानु के छ र " and just forget everything I need to do and just chill out doing nothing, absolutely nothing. And it is one of those times, I feel happiest. 

This hurry, this frenzy of doing everything, managing everything, being "perfect" is the culprit. 

I have immense respect to those who stay at home out of choice or due to circumstances. But I strongly believe that if one wishes to do something, one can do it: not exactly on the same way, not exactly on the timeframe we wanted it. But one can do it, things you wish to do can happen. 

Like other day, one of my friend commented that she has not read a book in a while. I can understand it can be hard if you are a mother of little children. But I see reading more as a choice rather than matter of time. I have not slept many nights in order to finish the book. But I do not feel that much drowsy next day because I loved it. Book lovers sleep a little but find time to read. Book lovers watch less TV but find time to read. Book lovers go out less often but find time to read. Its all about a choice. Same is with writing. Writing is an affliction, its an addiction. If one loves writing, one writes anyway. One cannot live without expressing what you see, think and feel: because that's the way to be. 

Thank you all those who think that I balance everything. I hope you understand now, that I am not perfect in everything. I am hardly a perfect mother, I am hardly a perfect professional, I hardly write that regularly, I am not that much into facebook but once I am on it: I write instead of gawking and drooling at someone else pictures. So, you see I am just good at making choices: what I wish to do and what I do not wish to do. 

Like for instance, all the while writing this post ( after feeding two kids and sending them swiftly to bed): I had a choice to do couple of things. I could have watched TV, watched heart wrenching romantic flick that I have saved it in my computer, I could have read dozens of unread books in my shelves, I could talk with my husband ( who happens to be equally busy in his assignment) or I could just sleep. 


Thank you for reading :) 

Sunday, September 21, 2014

Sunday morning with Soham


My Sunday Morning with Soham is going on like this 

Shubham left for school, Soham watches TV until then
Once his "dada" is off, he comes to my room with armful of crayons, colors and several sketch books and coloring books where I am supposedly "working".
He spreads them on the bed and asks me every 2 minutes " What shall I draw now"
I say " computer", " Cup", "Bottle"
His answer is No to all of them
Finally he has an idea, he starts drawing his own hand. 
And I am like , "okay, perfect peace for next 5 minutes"
Oh, what a delusion
Exactly in a minute he wails " rub it off, rub it off"
He has a streak of perfectionism in him and he quiet did not like the way his hand looks in the sketchbook
It looks preety awesome to me. I see several possibilities in it. Him coloring it, cutting it, pasting it: all the while allowing me enough time to complete this email I was writing. 
But No, Then, I give it, I rub it off
But then, he wants me to stay with him and draw his hand. 
I do that and he is satisfied with it. 
Then, he is quiet for a while, enjoying his work. 
After a while he comes to me to show his picture "how is it", he asks
I say, as usual "beautiful" but he wants me to complete it
He has actually drawn a head of a pig, I draw the body. 
Meanwhile, he treats books and copies like blocks and creates a structure out of them. 

Then, he arranges my clothes and scatters them all over. The more I say, "don't", he will do more. So, for the sake of my sanity, I just remain quiet. 

It has been about 2 minutes, there is an eerie silence around the room, that it almost feels unnatural. I look around, and OMG he has his hand all over my bag that I nearly had an heart attack.