Getting Back To My Garden

My garden has been woefully neglected for many a month.  It's true that it overflows with greenery, for this I have to thank my maid, who has been watering it periodically.  Many onlookers compliment me on this verdant patch in the midst of much concrete.  But I am not particularly happy with the way it looks.

A closer look will show that all the sensitive, delicate plants have long vanished, leaving not even a trace of their existence.  Only the hardy plants (fortunately quite a few of them) remain - those that can withstand two or three days of drought.  In place of the ones that have gone, my maid has planted lush looking stuff, which is reminiscent of tough weeds.  They eagerly and rapidly spread wherever they find a foothold.  Anyway, I don't criticize her, for she is doing her best, and she is not really a gardener.  But while stepping out, I often don't invest much emotion in the garden because after my wave of sadness and indignation passes, I feel like picking up my little spade and digging away - and there is really no time for such an exercise!

Today, having a few minutes to spare, my baby and I went into the garden.  He sat, peacefully (and curiously) surveying the scene while I watered my plants.  I could almost hear my garden heave a sigh of relief.  It felt so good, both to me and to my plants!  There was an air of contentment and tranquility that I had not sensed in a long time.  The cacti were thanking the heavens that they had not been inundated and the bamboo and lemon grass waved about happily, catching all the extra droplets that fell their way.

My lotus pond with its myriad coloured fish has been disassembled.  Everything had died out, leaving some straggling aquatic plants and I was afraid of breeding mosquitoes.  The pot lies overturned, in a corner, reminding me that in due course, it will need to be revived.  My baby loves looking at plants, feeling their textures, watching the stems quiver and vibrate when shaken.  I'm sure we'll have happy gardening moments together.  Until then, I have resolved to water the garden whenever possible and send happy thoughts and not regretful ones to all my plants, old and new.

The Magic Of Never-Never

I read 'We of the Never-Never' twenty years ago, and on re-reading this book, find the magic as strong as ever.  It reminds me of all that we must be thankful for in our lives : love, true friends and the sometimes harsh but bewitching beauty of the natural world.  As I read, the rain pelts outside; inside the electricity flickers, candles come on and off  at the whim of the power supply.  Flying ants fill the rooms, little white ants crawl on our tables and mud is splattered all over the floor.  But I remain caught in the spell of the book and these things don't seem like annoyances any more.

Written by Jeannie Gunn in 1908, this is the story of her adventures in the Australian bush as she accompanied her husband, Aeneas Gunn, who had been appointed manager of a large cattle station in 1902.

Her arrival in the bush was unexpected, and unwanted, for this was a land which white women did not inhabit, but once there, she was gradually accepted and eventually befriended.  Her story is eloquently narrated and the charm of her personality, tales of the brave and true bushmen and the pristine beauty of the land come alive through her words.  I quote a few paragraphs from her book, just to give you an idea of its timeless charm.

"And All of Us, and many of this company, shared each other's lives for one bright, sunny year, away Behind the Back of Beyond, in the Land of the Never-Never; in that elusive land with an elusive name - a land of dangers and hardships and privations yet loved as few lands are loved - a land that bewitches her people with strange spells and mysteries, until they call sweet bitter and bitter sweet.  Called the Never-Never, the Maluka (her husband) loved to say, because they who have lived in it and loved it, Never-Never voluntarily leave it."

In the beginning, when the men at the station learned that their boss had gone and got married, and, moreover the Missus was to accompany him, this is what one of them (the Sanguine Scot) said:

"I'll block her yet; see if I don't," he said confidently.  "After all these years on their own, the boys don't want a woman messing round the place."  And when he set out for the railway along the north track, to face the "escorting trick", he repeated his assurances.  "I'll block her chaps, never fear," he said; and glowering at a "quiet" horse that had been sent by the lady at the Telegraph, added savagely, "and I'll begin by losing that brute first turn out."

The Maluka and his Missus, meanwhile, having no inkling of this, were on their way to the end of civilization in a Territorial train:

"It was a delightful train - just a simple-hearted, chivalrous, weather beaten old bush whacker, at the service of the entire Territory.  "There's nothing the least bit officious or stand-offish about it," I was saying, when the Man-in-Charge came in with the first billy of tea.
  "Of course not!" he said, unhooking cups from various crooked-up fingers.  "It's a Territorian, you see."
  "And had all the false veneer of civilization peeled off long ago," the Maluka said, adding, with a sly look at my discarded gloves and gossamer, "It's wonderful how quietly the Territory does its work."...

They left behind the city and town dwellers, all of whom were horrified at the idea of Jeannie going into the bush.  This is what she says, later on, while shuttling from camp to camp:

"Whatever do you do with your time?" asked the townsfolk, sure that life out-bush is stagnation, but forgetting that life is life wherever it may be lived.

A Charming Monte-Story

A true story!

My great aunt, who had been widowed during the second World War, moved to Patiala, to live alone and set up a school (which later became one of the best known in the state).  Needless to say, this was quite unheard of in those days.  She was a fiercely independent and determined character, a combination of the two Wodehousian aunts: "Aunt Dahlia, my good and kindly aunt and Aunt Agatha, the one who chews broken bottles and kills rats with her teeth".  She came to Simla when Maria Montessori visited India, to attend her classes.  In the morning she would attend the classes held in English and in the afternoon she functioned as interpreter, and translated the same lectures into Hindi.

Along with her, came an aunt of mine, a soft, delicate lady; a nervous and timid soul.  She was taking the classes as well.  For some reason she was ill during the examination.  However, she managed to take the exam and afterwards, began nervously pacing the corridor, trying to find out if she had cleared the papers or not.  She was not really paying attention as to where she walked, and in this process she bumped into Montessori's son, Mario (who had accompanied his mother to Simla).

"Oh, I'm sorry, I'm sorry, " my aunt muttered, looking terribly confused and embarrassed.  Mario was unperturbed.  "You are sorry," he said, with a smile, "And I am Montessori." 

The Way We Learn

I have been getting loads of advice on how to bring up my baby.  Several women tell me how I must make him interact with more people, not keep him confined to the house, keep talking to him, to develop his social skills and get him ready for school (he's only seven months old and cannot talk yet!).  I try and explain that he has a kind of routine that keeps him satisfied, but people don't really listen.  They mean well but I think they feel that what's good for one baby (rather their approach to babies) is good for all.

Though not directly related to this subject, somehow this incessant stream of conversation got me thinking about the ways in which different people learn.  I am solitary by nature and learn best on my own.  I like activities which allow me to function creatively in solitude and peace.  However, I know many people who feel comfortable learning and tackling problems in groups or pairs.  So I'm sure there are parents who like to mingle with others and take their children along, to socialize or play with other adults or children and perhaps later, organize other activities of common interest.

At this stage I find there is so much to do at home that the only times I step out are for walks.  I am never really sitting (I wonder how that phrase arose) except when I need to.  And I doubt that my baby feels confined; he seems busy every moment trying to work things out for himself until he tires himself out and falls asleep.  Each activity, though apparently simple, poses many challenges for a little baby.  And then there are different levels of exploring the same thing.  One can look at the same problem or situation from different angles or with variable depth and come up with multiple solutions or courses of action.

For example, some weeks ago, my baby began to look at the curtains in the house.  Each set looked and felt different.  Then he realized they could be drawn out, some were easy to do and some were harder.  They also tasted different!  And now he can wrap them around himself, hang upside down from them like a trapeze artist and make them swish around.  Very different from the calendar, which he has also felt and tasted and moved around.  The calendar swings back and forth like a pendulum, it cannot be bent or wrapped around him, and so on.  He does not seem to need any adult intervention while carrying out these activities (other than being held and kept in a secure position).

Each day brings a different perspective to (the same old) things, which is a delight to watch and participate in.  I feel that the best way to channelize my baby's energy is by letting him select what he is interested in and allowing him to proceed the way he wants.  This seems to keep him engrossed and learning; he looks happy and contented at the end of it.  I don't think that simulating future situations (like school or social settings) at this stage will really help in any way.  As long as he's secure and comfortable doing what he's ready for, I think he will be able to tackle any new situation that comes his way.

Quite by chance I began to read 'The Discovery Of The Child' (by Maria Montessori) around this time.  I was intrigued to read about her methods and her insights into how children learn, and how they can be directed to activities and concepts, which they spontaneously and joyously pick up and use.  One aspect which is apparent from her work is how we must not view or judge children from an adult standpoint.  They have different priorities and views of the world from us, and these keep changing as they grow.  I quote from her book:

"Children frequently reveal remarkable powers of observation, noticing things which they had not previously noticed before.  They also seem to compare present objects with those they remember from past experiences.  Their striking judgments show that children have within themselves a kind of touchstone which we ourselves do not possess.  They compare external things with their mental fantasms and show a surprising accuracy in judgment.  Once a workman came into a classroom in Barcelona carrying in his hand a piece of glass which he was going to put into a window in the room.  A five-year-old child said in a loud voice: "You can't use that piece of glass; it's too small."  Only when the workman tried to fit the glass into the frame did he notice that it was about one fourth of an inch too short.
  Two children of five and six were carrying on the following conversation in a Children's House in Berlin: "Do you think the ceiling is ten feet high?"  "No," the other replied, "it is about ten feet nine inches high."  When the height was measured it was found in fact to be somewhat over ten feet.
  A little five-year-old girl, seeing a lady coming into the room said to her: "The color of your dress is just like that of the flower over there."  The lady went into the next room, where she found a flower, which could not be seen from the room she had first entered, and, comparing the flower with her dress, she found that the two colors were surprisingly alike.
  Children have within themselves a touchstone which sets them on a different plane from our own and enables them to do many striking things.  The reason for this seems to be that certain periods of life seem more suited for certain psychic operations than others.  A proof of this may be found in the ability of little children to remember and reproduce the sounds of spoken words.
  Nature has placed an extraordinary sensitivity in a child for fixing words and accents and it is precisely during the period of childhood that a person's language is fixed for life.  There is no going back: what a child's mind assimilates during the sensitive period remains as a permanent acquisition for his whole life, and it can  never be acquired  at another stage.  Thus there are periods in childhood for gaining sense impressions and fixing habits which, if they are neglected, can never be redeemed."

"We have clearly shown that a child has a need to observe, to reflect, to learn, to concentrate, to isolate himself and also from time to time to suspend his activities in silence...  The education of even a very small child, therefore, does not aim at preparing him for school but for life."

Thoughts on Cupboards

Cupboards have been on my mind for several months now.  Ever since we started living out of boxes.  We have boxes overflowing with clothes of all shapes and sizes - things which used to fit me, things which are now too big for me and likewise, for the baby. Boxes of gifts for the baby, some which he is too young to use and some which he has outgrown.  Books piled in unsteady towers, swaying as we brush past them, waiting to go into - yet more boxes everywhere.  They have to be put away, somewhere, sometime…

"We need new cupboards," I think to myself.  But - the obvious question is - where do we put them?  I wish there were special gravity defying designs which could be installed neatly on the ceilings, painted perhaps a sky blue with fluffy, wooly clouds, or a midnight blue with Van Goghian stars and one could gently drift up and store whatever one wished and float back down again…

But as that is unlikely to happen, I come down to earth with a bump.  A gently bump, because I land on piles of clothes instead of a hard floor.

So it was with a sense of anticipation that I visited Raintree's annual furniture exhibition.  This is organised by a very enterprising lady who spruces up and also designs beautiful pieces based on old designs, in teak and marble (and if one is lucky, rosewood as well).  I knew that we had no space for furniture but figured that if there was something big enough or nice enough or practical enough, we could try and replace some piece of existing furniture with a cupboard.

We reached just five minutes before the sale finally ended as we had not been able to spare any time on the previous days.  But experience has taught us that no one else seems to buy the things we like so we were not particularly concerned.  The lady knows us and is a very kind person and relaxed, in the old Bangalore style.  She came up to take the baby from us and engage him in a long, pleasant conversation, which he seemed happy with.  We drifted from room to room, looking at the range of furniture.  Nice chairs, for formal and informal seating, tables of various kinds, beautiful brass objects and other things.  No cupboards!

Of course this did not deter us from shopping; we usually succumb to the charms of old furniture.  And so we bought a round table of an in between size - bigger than a side table and much smaller than a dining table, higher than a coffee table and lower than a writing desk.  What would we do with it?  We had no clue but we liked it and knew we wouldn't get something like this elsewhere.  It was a combination of two old pieces - a beautifully carved base in teak and a teak top with a wonderful natural grain running across - the kind you only see in large, wise trees that no longer exist.

The second piece was a kind of movable bar(!!!).  A most unsuitable object to introduce with a tiny baby in the house.  But we loved it.  It is also a solid, old wooden structure, with beautiful carved doors, a pair of shelves and a set of drawers and is topped with a creamy green kind of marble.  (The marble is new and is polished such that it is stain resistant and it perfectly complements the rest of the structure).  The lady provided us with a beautifully made wooden wine rack, which she said she could not possibly charge us for.

As we were leaving, we also spotted a lovely brass arch, the kind that is traditionally placed behind idols and that people use nowadays as a mirror frame.  It had two of Vishnu's incarnations sculpted on it - the lion at the top and two boars below.  It was a beautiful piece and we succumbed once more.  For good measure, we also bought a pair of brass lamps with peacocks (Diwali is almost round the corner).

And so, we trudged home, deliriously happy.  I gave away a small floor desk, to try and make some space, but that only freed up about four square feet…

The carpenters came and installed the pieces.  As it turned out, the wooden table went in our living room, in between two cane reading chairs. It happened to be the perfect dimension for that space.  We often keep glasses of water, telephones, bookstand other knick knacks there.  In the midst of all this, there is still place for our Mexican jaguar to repose regally and it looks very much at home on the dark teak.

The bar was put in place of our all purpose table and drawer set, which was moved to another room.  The beautiful marble top supports our Ganesha, our telephone and an array of writing material.  The drawers house our chargers. One of the shelves holds our wine bottles along with our laptops and stationery.  The other shelf is empty.  What should we put there?  "Nappies?", my husband suggested.  I shook my head.  I was thinking more along the lines of olives, dark chocolate, roasted almonds…   The bar looks elegant and has added so much character to our room, fitting perfectly against one wall, as if that space was made just for it.

We mounted the brass arch high up on a wall in our dining room.  It needs no idols or mirrors; it stands out on its own.  The mythical figures are filled with a life of their own when the light falls on them.

Our house is now beautiful and perfect, well - almost.  The only thing we need are - some cupboards.

Quick, Satisfying Meals

With very little time on my hands these days, I have simplified my meals considerably.  At the same time, they need to be nutritious, energizing - and (importantly for me!) - tasty!  So I'm using a lot of nuts and fruit, rice and noodles and seafood.  Combinations of these are easy to whip up in half hour periods.  They can also be prepared in stages and actual cooking time is small.  These are some nice combinations:

Cherry tomatoes (always delicious, by themselves or with spring onions or basil and an olive oil dressing, a sprinkling of good feta cheese is a bonus).

Traditional Indian snacks like poha (beaten rice) - instead of just cooking this with chopped potatoes, I add a handful of sprouts and some cashewnuts, a sprinkling of coriander leaves and lime juice.  Similarly with upama (a dry snack or 'tiffin' with roasted semolina - to this I add finely diced carrots and beans or peas, and lightly fried cashewnuts).

Stir fried prawns: in olive oil and garlic or with loads of chopped onion and garlic or just with olive oil and a sprinkling of herbs.  Also small whole fish, marinated and rolled in rice flour and then fried, for the crispiest, lightest coating possible.

Avocadoes with lime, tomato salsa - as we had in Mexico - these go well with almost anything.

Pizza, Pasta, Noodles : I buy some freshly made, half cooked pizzas and add extra vegetables - garlicky spinach or crunchy baby corn or green, red, yellow peppers...
Amongst the sweet quick breads, banana, walnut and cranberry is a delicious combination that takes just about fifteen minutes to put together (before baking).

Wholewheat pasta with a fresh tomato or mushroom sauce is filling and wholesome but what I like even more are rice noodles made the Thai way (Pad Thai), with prawns or chicken (I often use mushrooms and baby corn), spring onions, bean sprouts (when available) and egg and sprinkled with roasted, coarsely pounded peanuts and fresh lime juice.

Mango sticky rice : A traditional Thai dessert.  Sticky rice is drenched in coconut milk and eaten with fresh mango.  Instead of roasted mung beans on the side (which I find too hard when I try and make them at home), I use pine nuts.  This is one of my favourite desserts.  Nothing can beat a good mango, but this would also be nice with caramelized bananas or pineapple, I think.

No Leisure For Babies

A little drastic sounding, nonetheless, this blog comes after a little reading, a few months of observing (only one) baby and a bit of thought.

I have continuously been amazed at the difference between the adult world and the baby world, more so since almost everyday my baby meets people - outside on walks, around our neighbourhood, at home and elsewhere.

Adults seem to want, above all, babies that smile and coo.  Babies are not doves.  And as for smiling, they do plenty of it when they feel like.  But it's hard to smile when you are being prodded or clucked at or when a pair of fingers seems to endlessly appear at close range in front of your face demanding attention.  Under these circumstances, it is prudent to observe and be a little wary, that's what evolution has probably drilled into us, especially while dealing with strangers.  Babies also do not appreciate their thumbs being yanked out of their mouths by an unfamiliar set of hands, just because it is 'better that way' or 'to clearly see baby's face'.  It has taken a tremendous amount of neuromuscular coordination to get the thumb there and then to keep it in place, and it's done for a purpose.  In all fairness, adults are well meaning and feel they are entertaining the baby and trying to befriend it in these ways, but I can see that babies may not view it in the same light.

Which brings us to the question of entertainment and leisure.  I don't feel there is any word for 'leisure' in baby lingo.  This is because there is no word for 'work' either.  Life seems to be a series of experiences driven largely by instinct, the desire for comfort and curiosity.  At least that's the way it appears to me, as I watch this early stage of my baby's development.  He is not keen to play with toys except those he can use to coordinate his movements - things he can sling over his arm or kick at different angles or insert his fingers to varying degrees into.  He learns incredibly fast from 'mistakes' i.e. times that he is in uncomfortable situations (like putting his hand into crevices where his fingers get momentarily stuck), I have never seen him repeat such actions.  He spends most of his time trying to turn, move, explore his surroundings and talking in his own language (far more complex than the way most adults talk to him- in fact most adults are so busy talking to him that they forget to listen while he sits patiently waiting for them to finish so he can begin).

People also seem very keen to push babies into beginning solid food.  I have read about this terrific social pressure existing almost everywhere (i.e. in many parts of the world) and on many days I am asked by someone or the other when I am going to introduce my baby to the joys of baby cereals.  This includes doctors who feel the baby may want more.  I tell them that my  baby doesn't seem to be asking for more.  Nor does he seem to be nutritionally deprived (calorie for calorie, human milk is naturally more efficiently taken up by babies than any other food anyway.  Apart from which, breast milk changes composition to suit the baby's requirements and has a host of other incredible benefits, like passing on antibodies, gut bacteria and just a good feeling to the baby).  I did buy a packet of popular baby rice cereal but after reading the composition, returned it (to our immensely understanding chemist.  He actually brought out several baby food cereals but they all contained sugar, something doctors have forbidden for the first year of baby's diet.  Something seems to be very wrong here...).  This particular baby cereal contained 10% sucrose, a large number of vitamins and minerals, ash (??!) and other things.  (I learnt subsequently that animal studies have shown that high ash content provides immunity to babies.  But then, my baby is not a guinea piglet and anyway, he has been managing with my own transferred immunity very well so far).  So, if I don't have a problem and neither does my baby, why mess with his food (which is an important part of his life)?

Sleep is one argument most people give, in favour of introducing other foods (and drinks).  Right from the beginning people told me that the simplest way to keep the baby asleep was to feed him lots of water.  The mind boggles!  Is one's priority to keep the baby asleep or to keep him nutritionally healthy?  It is the same with babies who are given 'top feed' (additional, processed milk generally through bottles) - they generally cry less and sleep better (what is not told to parents is that the babies often go off breast milk, because sucking the bottle is easier for their muscles and also because there is a feedback mechanism in the mother's body - the less milk a baby sucks, the less is produced).  'Crying' is a little baby's only means of communication, it's important not to view it as undesirable - shrill and disturbing though it may sound.  As for sleep, there is an evolutionary drive for light and fitful sleep - it has helped babies survive for millions of years.  It's much easier to dope babies with foods their little stomachs cannot handle, with stimuli that daze them momentarily and to invent adult-designed toys to keep them from exploring their surroundings.  But babies don't really need any of this, busy adults do.