Saiyaara: love, music and mental well-being

 I watched the Hindi movie Saiyarra today... 

Am truly impressed! After long feel contented to have watched some great acting and a beautiful story.  

Liked most the acting and direction of the movie.  For first timers playing the lead role in a full length movie, I should say, they've done a fabulous job.  Of course, cinematic liberties aside, they appear spontaneous, and perfectly grooved into the role/character.  

Add to that I liked also very many other aspects which the story writer and the director have wonderfully woven into the love story.  It is true that the movie is primarily a love story - and a beautiful one at that too.  But along with it, I hope the audiences also take note and the media promote this movie as a support for the cause of mental well being.  Alzheimer is one mental illness that is specifically mentioned and spoken of, but I guess, it is a good beginning to help us Indians take the stigma out of such mental illnesses.  The movie also shows and explicitly states - rightly - how some such situations can be sensibly handled: the aspect of family support, regularity, role of emotions, medication, ambience...  

Then there is the family dimension that is upheld by the movie.  Be it in and through alcohol addiction, or facing Alzheimers... the irreplaceable strength and support of a loving and caring family.  The ending scene of the wedding, adds to the Indian cultural aspect of marriage and togetherness. 

The aspect of music serves as the invisible backbone/background of the whole movie.  But in a very clear way proving that music can be a very sensible way of handling mental well being. Well, let's say linking music, emotions and memories.  In this context, music evoking emotions and thereby reliving memories.  Those who have experience or know something about Alzheimer will realise the great link between the non-cognitive aspect (repeated actions, habits, hobbies...) and memories. 

Last but not the least, a typical characteristic of India: cricket!  Though not really necessary, the scenes and involvement of cricket into the storyline does not seem totally out of place.  

A stranger, yet not unknown

This morning I was glad that I could make it for the Memorial Mass of Mr Anthony Noronha, the dad of Mario, a long time family friend.  It was nice to meet very many of the family members, most of whom I last met when I was a little.  Papa and Mummy always had/have a high regard for this particular family and from my little interaction with Mario I can sense why so.  

I distinctly remember when Papa passed away and I was overseas. By the time I came home, all the arrangements for the Mass and funeral were done; mostly by Baly and Santiagu. But I also became aware that there were some family friends who had also chipped in.  With Mario, it was particularly evident.  He did not come to the limelight or make himself prominent. But he did greatly help at home.  At one particular moment, after we returned home from the burial ground, we were serving meals for all at home.  There were quite a few, with many from Mangalore.  And Mario was helping out in serving.  When I offered him the plate and invited him to have his meal he said, "Those of the family eat last, after serving the guests!" And he continued serving the 'guests' with a smile! 

Today as I sat in the Church praying for the family, I repeated to myself what I had shared at Fr Maliekal's mum's funeral: I did not know her. I never spoke to her or met her. Yet as the saying goes, 'The tree is known by its fruits' I am happy and convinced to say that she was a very loving, hardworking and principled woman... all because I know two of her sons. And both of them are exemplary in their way of life.  I therefore believe that it is more than grace that has made them what they are... which I attribute to her upbringing. 

Hence my admiration and appreciation of the man whose Memorial Mass I was attending - a total stranger to me personally, yet not someone about whom I knew nothing! 

Tributes to one's dad

It has been a while now, since I came across these two songs... both of them about the figure of the father in the family, especially from the perspective of the child.  Two very beautiful and moving tributes to their respective Dads... Very very meaningful and heartfelt, deep from one's own personal experience. 

Jax - Like my father loves my mom

I wanna come home to roses, 

Dirty little notes on post-its

And when my hair starts turning grey,

He'll say I'm like fine wine, better with age.

I guess I learnt it from my parents,

that true love starts with friendship

A kiss on the forehead, a date night

fake an apology after a fight.

I need a man, who's patient and kind

Gets out of the car and holds the door

I wanna slow dance, in the living room like 

we're 18 at senior prom and grow old with someone 

who makes me feel young 

I need a man, who loves me like ...

my father who loves my mom! 

The other one is about a son expressing his anguish at his dad's serious illness. 

Dean Lewis - How do I say goodbye...

How do I say goodbye 

to someone who's been with me for my whole damn life 

you gave me name and the colour of my eyes

I see your face when I look at mine

So how do I say goodbye

Being active

Returned from home yesterday night. Glad to meet all in the community.  It just seems like I never left the place.  It is not even 24 hours since I returned, and the only thing I felt so far, was a bit bored!  

Looking back at the month I spent at home, I think this is the first time ever that I was not lazy.  That I reached home not for holidays was a fact.  But somehow I found myself busy all day and night.  I did not have to things on my own. I just followed Mum!  She always is upto something.  Never does she sit idle saying 'there's nothing to do'!  (Though this time she did watch two movies, one with the kids and one all by herself - a record in all these years!)  

So Mum and I, we did much work in the house. Mostly though it was garden work or completing the construction work of the ramp and the surrounding.  Some of the tasks were what she wanted to do but for lack of time or support, kept postponing.  Am truly very happy that I did something productive and helpful rather than 'relax'!  Perhaps it was also my way of thinking of Papa.  Or maybe to enjoy Mummy's company, giving her the opportunity to talk.  

Now back in Chertsey, the first feeling I have after a day, is to complete the tasks I see rather than postpone them 'for the right moment'.  Being active for a whole month, I could not say, there's nothing to do.  I realise, earlier I didn't want to do.  Not that there is nothing to be done.  

An alternative to the Golden Rule

During my year at Ramanthapur, on the day of my b'day, my family joined me and the community in the evening celebrations.  There was a grand cultural programme put up by the boys in the hall.  At one certain moment, my niece came over to me and sat on my lap.  I was sitting at the back of the whole group with my family.  One of the youngest boys, Ganesh (I still remember him well!) aged the same as my niece - 3 years - was sitting right in front of the whole group, closest to the stage.  He somehow noticed my niece on my lap.  There was a strange look on his face.  It was as if to say, if she can, why not I?  But that was also coupled with the knowledge (far ahead of his age) that he could not.  He turned back a couple of times to see if my niece was still sitting with me.  I very delicately led her back to a chair, beside me.

Later during the programme, when called upon the stage to cut the cake, my nephew and niece hopped along.  They are 'professional cake-cutters'! And they would never have missed this opportunity to cut the cake with me!  From the stage, I dared not look in Ganesh's direction.  And so I invited the whole batch of the youngest boys (Mamma Margaret home boys - we called them), all 21 or 22 of them, onto the stage to join me.  They didn't need a second invitation!

This incident flashed in my mind, the moment I read the article, offering an alternative to the Golden rule. The Golden Rule asks us to do unto others what I wish done to me!  The Chinese philosopher Mengzi, offers an alternative: Extend to the world, the love and reverence you already have for your parents and elders.  (How Mengzi came up with something better than the Golden Rule on Aeon).

The Golden Rule actually presumes an inherent self-love as primary to human nature, rather than love for others.  It basically asks one to transpose one's love for oneself, onto others.  Mengzi's alternative, rests on the basic premise that as human beings we naturally love others, especially our parents, relatives and elders in our immediate community.  While the goal of both the principles is the extended other, the starting point is distinct.  Mengzi's extension is based on the 'we' dimension rather than the 'I' perspective.  Two other distinctive characteristics, pointed out by the author Eric Schwitzgebel, of Mengzi's extension, also make great sense.  One, Mengzi's extension is a lesser/easier leap than the Golden Rule: from family-to-others rather than self-to-others.  Secondly, it in a way includes the starting point of the Golden Rule in as much as the extension can be applied to oneself.  If I want my dear ones to enjoy kindness and empowerment I can extend/apply it to myself too!

Care about me not because you can imagine what you would selfishly want if you were me. Care about me because you see how I am not really so different from others you already love.

Looking back at my interactive experiences with the boys at Ramanthapur, what guided me more than my love for myself, especially when it came to the younger ones, was my affection for Chris and Anet. After all, half of the boys were around the age of Chris.  

Beheading of St Lawrence

Yesterday was the feast of St Lawrence.  Deacon and Martyr.  My connection with this saint goes way back.  The parish from which my parents hail, from Mangalore, is the famous shrine of St Lawrence.  That's where my parents were baptised, grew up, and later got married.  My brother's middle name is Lawrence.  Even he and my sister-in-law were married at St Lawrence's.  Papa is a great devotee of St Lawrence - and perhaps, that's the greatest connection I can think of. 

And of course, there is that unforgettable incident of the cricket ball 'beheading' St Lawrence! My brother and I were so shaken by this accident! We managed, with Mum's help to stick back the head and place him back on the family altar.  That evening when Papa returned home and, as usual, went up to the altar to pray, he did not notice anything unusual.  The three of us however, breathed only after he finished his prayer!  We never told him of that incident! 

Only of late did I come to know that St Lawrence is the patron saint of comedians and cooks.  The latter I understand, given that he died being grilled - literally!  The former attribution took time for me to connect.  Comedians??  Well, only after a while it hit me, that even that is associated with his martyrdom, being roasted on fire!  It is said, that while being grilled, he said to his executioners, "This side is done. Now turn me over!"  Am not sure, how humorously did his tormentors take that, but for one to be so 'cool' when on fire and at the point of certain death, one indeed has to have lots of courage.  However, am not sure if he was that humorous during his life as well.  Would have been, I guess.  Only, haven't found any evidence for it yet! 

Pre-nuptial tradition

Know not what led me this thought but it suddenly occurred to me this afternoon that the Telugu 'ritual' of pellichoopulu wherein a young man intending to get married, visits the girls' house, with his parents and elders.  This procedure is indeed a very social and respectable one - when taken in the right sense.  If it is taken as a sort of window-shopping for a bride, wherein the girl is one 'shown' as an object of 'purchase', then it certainly loses all its merits but otherwise, the procedure is worth understanding. 

The first thing that occurred to me was that marriage is not just between two individuals.  It is also a union of two families.  Hence it makes sense for one to know the other, just as much as the boy and girl need to know each other.  This makes great sense, especially in our Indian context wherein couples who get married often do not leave their parents side and continue living under the same roof.  However the present form of the boys' family visiting the girls' is only a partial process.  The girls' family too needs to visit the boys' house and family - after all, in most cases it is the bride who moves in with the bridegroom into his house.  That alone is enough reason for the girls' family to come and see where and with whom is their daughter going to spend the rest of her life, her new family! 

Secondly, it is a great 'official' moment of socialization.  Even when we have a tradition of welcoming and receiving strangers as our guests, it is good to welcome a rather unknown family into our home, with the intention of extending one's family. 

Finally, even in modern times when boys and girls often 'select' their life partners (rather than the earlier times when parents decide their partners), the tradition only cements this union of families.  This tradition does not lose its value or can never be outdated in its intended purpose.  Only hope that the other half of the girls' family visiting the boys' house too gets an equal share in this procedure!  

Back after holidays

The trip home these last few weeks was good.  Got to see the new house and the new place.  Did visit the old house as well.  Compared to the new one, the old one looks very small and cramped.  Didn't feel so all my life when that was the only house we had!

However, this holiday was different from all the other trips back home.  For the first time, I could visibly see the aging of all those whom I knew, even Mummy (of all people).  Beginning with Papa's fracture of the leg, these past few days have been a string of visits to the sick and ailing.  A couple of confreres too, completely bed-ridden.  The height of it all was the funeral on Christmas day!  A family friend from our acquaintances when we were at the old house passed away on Christmas eve.  So Mum and I went to visit the family on Christmas morning.  Since the priests were not available for a funeral Mass, their parish priest conducted a short service.  While spending time with the family, I was imagining what Christmas would mean for them on this particular day, especially for the grandson of the lady who passed away.

Looking back at the three weeks at home, Christmas was hardly 'experienced'.  For me it was all about being at home with the family.  So has every holiday been!  Back now in Chertsey, it feels as if I was here all along! 

Don't toch!

My nephew received a remote controlled (RC) car for his b'day!  That has been his heart and soul since last weekend.  Last evening his 5 year sister played with it for a while when he was having his bath.  He was devastated!  When he went to bed, leaving the battery for charging, my brother and I found this note beside the car and the charging battery...

The old B&W TV

Last night as I hit bed, I suddenly remembered the first time we had television at home.  Can't remember the exact year but it was surely when my brother and I were in school, probably in the late 80's.  Prior to that we used to run to Sadiq's house - our neighbour who had TV and very many of us children would gather at his place to watch the Sunday movie screened on Doordarshan - the only channel available. 

Our first TV was Sanyo - or Sankyo? - at least that was what was written on the box.  It was a second-hand one Papa had managed to purchase, I think from his trusted electrician, Danny!  It was a black and white one, which we were clearly instructed not to meddle with.  For fear of spoiling the on/off push button, it was directly put on and off from the main power switch. Once in a way, the signal would scramble and that would set off a very amusing process of three of us at different levels of the house attempting to restore clarity.  Papa would be on the roof adjusting the antenna, Willy would be on the ground below where Papa was and I would be indoors infront of the TV, watching out and shouting exactly at which point the clarity was best.  That was something! 

The first movie that we watched on OUR OWN television was Mayuri.  The only other movie (name) that I remember watching on it was Shatrang ke khiladi - because that was a total damper!  But most of all we really looked forward to the serial, The Sword of Tipu Sultan.  It used to be aired on Saturday night for an hour.  We all loved it and watched it without fail.  However the long bits of advertisements were a bit of a nuisance. I even remember making a list of each ad being screened on one occasion - just to count the number of them! 

I still remember the sole purpose Papa bought it - Mummy and he did not want us to be running around our neighbour's house, asking permission from our home and their home, to watch some occasional Didi's comedy show or a weekend movie.  Though we continued to love watching TV at home, the sense of wonder and amusement did die down a bit, in the years to come.  I don't remember when we graduated from that old B&W TV to the colour one, but that old one did serve us well and for long.  I can still remember distinctly where exactly it was placed in the house and how we used to put it on.  

तीन तिकङम

In Hindi there is the popular saying, तीन  तिकङम काम भीकडं... where there are three involved in a work, there abounds confusion and utter failure!  So I guess it would not be a great idea to begin a catechism class in the Hindi belt with a  discourse on the Holy Trinity! 

The best we can grasp of the Trinity is the relationship between the three people, just as in a family.  Every family, even if it comprises of merely three people, has its own ups and downs.  There are moments of great joy, thrill, excitement and there are also moments of sadness, confusion and anxiety.  All of these go in to make us a family.  Not everything is perfect, all the time.  Perhaps if it were, we would not be a united loving family - just as if a family were to bear only hardships all along, with no moments of joy.  While none of us have a total control over the circumstances in which we live, we can to a great extent choose our perspective of those circumstances.  It is that attitude, that perspective, that bonding, that ultimately forms the foundation of our relationship. 

Son of a carpenter

'What part of Joseph's personality did Jesus imbibe or exhibit?', was the question that Fr Kevin began his homily with, this morning during the Mass of St Joseph, the worker. 

• Was it his relational skills which saw him relate to practically everyone in his surrounding with the same respect and dignity?  
• Was it his workmanship which saw him be dedicated to what he considered was his primary duty?
• Was it his ability in recognizing that he is not the only one at work in the society and hence form constructive alliances and build a network of hard working people from different backgrounds?
• Was it his attitude towards the working class of the society, whom he treated with equal dignity and compassion as any intellectual or civil servant?  
• Was it his concern and affection for the women who followed him or met him during his journeys and visits to the different regions of Israel?  
• Was it his calm and serene nature that helped him stay focused and polite, even when the whole crowd was against him? 
• Was it his down to earth use of imageries in communicating the richness of the Kingdom to his listeners? 
• Was it his grace to be able to mingle and be at home with the hoi polloi of the society, even though he was the son of God?
• Was it his words and phrases and accent and gestures? 
• Was it his dressing sense, his hairstyle, food habits and 
• Was it his knowledge of farming and fishing which he clearly used lavishly in his various anecdotes and parables (surely much more than carpentry!)? 

Matthew 13: 55 expresses the amazement of those who witness Jesus' ministry and ask: "Isn't he the carpenter's son?..."

Made up of children

My 4 year old niece (who is younger to my nephew) has begun to assert her place in the family and her demands to be treated on par with her elder brother are on the increase.  However, she is also at a stage where she is neither fluent in Konkani (our mother tongue) nor in English! 

The latest, I'm told, is the claim to sit on the front seat in the car, beside the driver.  Mostly her brother would sit on someone's lap in the front seat.  Now she wants her turn too!  Mum tried to dissolve the situation by saying, "Small children are not supposed to sit in the front," to which her question was instant, "Isn't Chris too made up of children?"  (I suppose she meant, "Isn't Chris too a child?")

Child and the family

On March 3, 2018, the Times ran an interesting article titled 'When good intentions lead to awful crimes'.  It was about the child migrants who were sent to New Zealand and Australia years ago.  The whole concept was to populate the British colonies with children from Britain so as to ensure the population remains white (mostly).  The whole endeavour was to ensure that the best civilization (read that as English culture) would prevail.  It was not done out of fear that the English would be wiped out or over run.  The enterprise was taken up at the height of the English mentality that the sun would never set on the mighty empire!! 

The exporting of children as colonial seed corn dates back to 1618 when 100 destitute children were sent to the fledgling colony of Virginia. By the time the last party of child migrants arrived in Australia in 1967 more than 130,000 children had been removed to Canada, New Zealand, Rhodesia and Australia. 

What actually happened 400 years ago was in a way charitable: boys, orphaned and abandoned or not from affluent families or from broken families, in Britain were taken to Australia with the idea of giving them a better future and a chance to carry on the 'English legacy' in the Down under. 

A child brought up in the bracing colonial climate would, it was believed, learn the value of hard work and escape from the corrupting influence of the slums. 

While what actually happened to these thousands of children remains far from the ideal or normal, the intention of those who approved and endorsed this enterprise was noble - as per the times. Even when the programme ended it was not because of moral issues but because the empire itself was waning.

The author does not condemn the whole programme but picks up the lesson to be learnt: need for rigorous follow up of charities.  Rightly so.  Passing moral judgement on the past by the standards of the present is meaningless.

Today, the idea that children could be removed from their families, lied to and dumped in the hands of strangers seems utterly iniquitous.The science of child psychology (which only emerged in the 1920s) has taught us that a child brought up in a family, even a poor and dysfunctional one, is almost always happier than one with no family at all. 

Starting with nothing

This Christmas season what comes most frequently to my mind is the manner in which God chooses to start his work here on earth - with nothing! Absolutely nothing!  First of all, as a little helpless baby.  That too in a foreign land.  With not even a proper shelter.  Born in a poor family with only the father working as a carpenter. No riches, no fame, no inheritance.  Perhaps the only claim to fame was that he was of the line of David!  But that too, the lineage going so far back that it might as well have been upto Adam.  Even if it was of importance, the claim to belong to King David's family offered no rewards or freebies.

However, the only thing of great importance to him was he had good and loving parents.  At least that he was not deprived of.  Considering the number of children born to broken and shattered families or living in horrific conditions lacking love, affection and the least of concern, Jesus did not have to suffer a childhood.

In spite of "lacking" so much, riding on hardly a couple of beneficial factors, Jesus goes on to make a mark in the history of the world and specifically on human beings.  Compared to his initial available resources, most of us, for sure we religious, have plenty! 

Hannah and childlessness

In the readings of the day, we see Hannah re-visiting the temple to offer Samson to the Lord.  She meets Eli, and reminds him that it she was the same woman whom he found desperately praying for a child not so long ago.  She thanks him and offers her son for service of the Lord at the temple.

The clock has come a full circle today, when we hear parents not wanting to have children at all or having them aborted. In most early civilizations barrenness was conceived as a sin or a punishment from the gods.  Any woman not having children was often looked down upon and being cursed.  For the woman herself it was a big social stigma.  Times have so drastically changed that women today no longer want to bear children.  Couples who do not want to have children.  Women undergoing abortion merely to ascertain that their body is theirs and they have the right to decide what best to do with it.  Couples deciding to bring home a puppy instead of starting a family with children!  Woman bearing more than three children are seen as 'supermoms'!

Today's prayer: for all aborted children and the women who live with the adverse consequences of abortion.

McFarland, USA

Last night I watched the movie McFarland, USA.  Am surprised I never heard of it before (given the fact that I have seen more movies in the past three years than I've seen my whole life).  The fact that it is based on a true story is what makes it really inspirational.

The movie is about a group of young boys and their coach in the neglected state of McFarland who train and go on to become the best in cross country race.  What touched me was the ease with which these youngsters could take pressure, especially of work.  Not only did they work, they studied and they trained (which is equally grueling)... all at the same time.  And they did it all with a sense of determination and joy.  Liked the movie for it portrays the value of family, of a team, of belonging, of unity, hard work, of enjoying the little things of life, prejudices and values we hold dear...

There is a truth in the quality of life lived by those who do strenuous manual labour.  I do believe that hard manual labour, especially directly in touch with nature, is a great learning experience.  The following clip is a neat summary of my sentiments too (about all those who slog it out, day in and day out, )

Loved also the amusing clips wherein this coach, used to a posh and comfortable lifestyle and setting, finds the ways of his boys used to the hard life of labour strange.  There is one particular scene wherein after being invited to join the family meal of his team, he wishes to thank the father.  Assuming that he does not know English, he asks one of his sons to tell him that he felt honoured to being invited to his house.  The son repeats the same in English!  And the father tells the son, "Tell him, that he is welcome!" ... in English!

Wedding anniversary

Today is the ninth wedding anniversary of Willy and Roshni, my brother and sister-in-law.  It was on this day that they were married in Mangalore, at St Lawrence's Church (Attur).  I had the joy of being the chauffeur and the family photographer!  The most uncomfortable thing was I had to wear what Mummy wanted me to wear - and mind you, I was then almost 14 years a religious, a perpetually professed Salesian, teaching philosophy, and at that time the secretary to the Provincial!  Nothing of that counted when Mummy ordered!  And later she was ordered by her sisters as to what to wear!!

Anyway, I remember the excitement at home, the hustle and bustle of the place, getting ready, decorating the car with my cousins, meeting all those 'strangers' (who knew us, but we hardly knew anyone)... That my parents and I didn't have much to do was quite relaxing. My uncle was seeing to all the arrangements and we would literally follow his instructions.  Willy himself was quite serene and during the Mass he was not disturbed by anything around.  It has been how he has been participating in the Mass over the last few years - devout, undeterred by any confusion or disturbances around, focused and silent.  For that day, he had already arranged and wanted to have the nuptial rite in English and not in Konkani as the rest of the Mass - he said, he wanted to really understand and fully consent when he took the vow.

The Church was full and so was the hall during the reception, thereafter.  I knew not even a quarter of those present.  But it was evident that everyone knew everyone!  That was one major event in which I - or for that matter, my parents - had no role in the organisation.  Thanks to our Uncle who saw to every detail of the whole event or process, I should say, given all that went on before and after the day.

Anyway, wish both Willy and Roshni all the best and God's abundant blessings on this special day of their life together.  

With our parents

When I shared the news about the blessing of our new home and all my people shifting to the new place sometime this week, a confrere of the community asked, "Your parents too?"

Well, knowing the culture of the place, I understood what he meant.  For someone back in India, I don't think there'd ever be such a question.  Here in the West, as soon as the children start to earn something on their own, they move out of the house.  The parents even if they are all by themselves manage on their own, henceforth.  I'm still to come across a large family living together. Of course, there are some who stay on with their elderly parents, mostly because they've not married themselves.  Our housekeeper Katie, understood perfectly well without telling that my whole family would be shifting and not my brother and his family alone.  She's been to India and she has noticed the care and concern we have for our parents.

I told Katie, for most of us back in India, the question of leaving our parents, especially if they are elderly or ailing all by themselves is considered almost sinful.  So if my brother is moving out, it would mean that everyone is moving out to the new home.  If my parents refused to move, I doubt my brother would ever consider shifting all by himself.  

Our new home

On last Sunday, April 23, 2017 was the house-warming of our new home at Aziz Nagar.  My brother had purchased that plot of land a couple of years ago and now they've almost completed the construction of the house.  All at home were mighty thrilled by the whole event, before and after it too.  Salesians from the Provincial house, St Theresa's parish and the school were present for the occasion. So were a couple of our relatives from Mangalore and Bangalore.

Here's the whole family-clan! 

(L to R): Mummy, Lucy Aunty, Papa, Roshni, Chris, Willy, Anet, Roshni's parents, Rohan (Roshni's brother), Uncle Cyril and his daughter Lincy.  

In fact, this is the first time that I saw Lucy aunty.  She was for many years working in the Middle-east and has now returned for good to her home in Mangalore.

Was happy to see Fr Thathi preside over the Mass.
The others too were gracious enough to join: Frs Androth, T.V. Jose, K.S. Joseph and Benny