Convicted by a Five-Year-Old

Today, my wife reminded me of an incident that happened in 2017 and requested that I write about it.

We had just returned from Malaysia after spending little over 5 years there. My daughter was five years old and had joined a school in Pune.

In Class 1, students learn basic English, Maths and Hindi, but they learn more about good habits, hygiene, body parts, family, social skills, soft skills, and good behaviour. I am sure her school was teaching her all those things. We used to ask her every day what she had learned in school, but she would not divulge much. She still does not!

One day, the three of us went to watch a movie. I do not recall the the movie, but I do remember that the movie hall was mostly empty and that we had corner seats in the top row. I also remember that my daughter was wearing a purple frock with bright flowers printed on it. As always, she looked extremely cute. 

Although we had bought tickets for our daughter, like most kids her age, she hardly sat in her seat. She climbed down and started walking around. Since she was not making any noise and there were not too many people around, we did not mind or stop her. 

During the interval, we got some snacks. The usual stuff. Popcorn, fries, soft drinks, and a chicken hotdog. It was brought in a snacks tray. We enjoyed the snacks and continued watching the movie. Since I was the only one eating popcorn, and popcorn lasts the longest, the tray eventually landed in my lap. I was sitting in the corner seat, with my wife next to me and our daughter standing beside her.

Once I finished the popcorn, I put the tray under my seat. 

While I was doing that, I noticed that my daughter was looking at me. I smiled at her and continued watching the movie. Although I stopped looking at her, I could tell from the corner of my eye that she was still staring at me.

Then she came over and stood in front of me. She looked sad and disappointed. I could tell that she wanted to say something. I immediately bent forward and gently put my arms around her. I brought my ear close to her face and waited for her to speak. 

And then she asked...

"Are you a bad human?"

I was taken aback but thought (and hoped) I had misheard her. So I asked again... only to hear the same brilliant question once more. Entirely my fault. 

She repeated, "Are you a bad human?"

I was stunned and looked towards my wife. She was busy with her fries and did not care what was going on around her. I told her about the question. Again, entirely my fault, as all I got in return were some wicked giggles.

I asked my daughter why she had asked me that. She did not answer. Then my wife asked her too. 

At that point, my daughter pointed towards the snack tray that I had put under my seat and said, "Teacher says that people who litter are bad humans."

The movie was no longer the most entertaining thing in the theatre for my wife. She was laughing like the evil and crazy woman she actually is.

Since when is putting a snack tray under the seat considered littering? 😡

But there was no point arguing with this three-foot-tall little ball of cuteness.

And now, nine years later, someone should see her room. The mess that she creates. A city completely devastated by earthquake looks more organized and neat compared to her room. All that learning, which was slightly flawed in any case, was only for me???

But the question still haunts me. And I can never forget her expression. She was genuinely disappointed to discover that her father was a "bad human!!" 

The Message That Made Me Proud

Yesterday, it rained heavily in Hyderabad. While rain brings joy after a prolonged period of scorching heat and summer, it also brings a problem: waterlogging and flooding in several areas. With unplanned development and little regard for proper drainage, many Indian cities are facing this issue.

The situation was particularly bad in the area where I live. Due to the sudden rain, the basement parking in my apartment was completely flooded. I had just left the office when I received a message from the building secretary asking residents not to park in the basement and to plan for other options.

I went to a restaurant and waited there for a couple of hours, hoping that the situation would improve. Then the secretary sent a picture of the basement, and it became clear that there was no way anyone would be able to park there for at least a day. I went back to the office, parked my vehicle there, and came home in a cab.

I had left the office at 6:15 PM, before the secretary's first message, and eventually reached home at 9:45 PM, only to find that the lift was not working. So I had to climb five flights of stairs, which, as one can imagine, was not an issue at all given my prime, pro-athlete-level fitness!

I was thinking...such a bad day!

Then my wife told me about the caretaker of the building. He handles various tasks in the building and also cleans by car everyday. He and his family live in a small room in the basement. He had shared some pictures of the damage caused by the water near his room. He told my wife that the TV and refrigerator had been damaged and that water had entered the room. I saw a picture in which he was standing in water near his room, and the water level was above his knees.

And I was thinking I had a bad day!

I did not know the full extent of the damage, and I will be honest, I did not think about it too much at the time. Maybe I was too tired, but looking back, I should have tried to find out more.

Today at the office, I saw more pictures and videos. This time they were of his room itself. The bed, refrigerator, TV, kitchen, wardrobe, clothes, the entire household had been severely impacted by the flooding. The family had tried to save what they could. The refrigerator was placed on the bed, and other household items were stacked above it. I also learned that the family had to move into a conference room on the ground floor and sleep there without beds or mattresses. 

When I reached home, my wife told me something that happened today. My daughter reaches home from school before us. When she gets home, she usually calls my wife or sends a message to let her know she has arrived safely and if there is anything else we should know. Today, however, she wrote that she had seen the caretaker and that he was probably crying. She asked my wife if we could do something for him.

When I learned about this exchange between my wife and daughter, I must admit I felt happy and genuinely proud. I am proud that she has empathy. She feels the pain of others.

She may not feel bad for her mother when she causes agony by keeping a messy room, but I am glad that she feels the pain of others when their home and belongings are turned upside down. That is far more important.

We may be raising a slob, but at least she's a slob with a good heart!

(Update: We helped the caretaker with a small financial contribution, and we plan to speak with the building secretary about the possibility of residents pooling funds to support the family) 

At the Mercy of a Six-Year-Old

My wife suggested that I write this blog, which is about an episode that happened in late 2017. She had to leave for our hometown due to a family medical emergency and she left our daughter - Ananya - in my care. Or, to be more accurate, she left me at the mercy of our six-year-old daughter!

I prepared a list of tasks that I am supposed to do during my wife's absence. I had to ensure that Ananya got up on time, get her ready for school, take care of her breakfast and tiffin, drop her at the bus stop, pick her up in the evening, help her with her homework and studies, wash her clothes (not at the dhobi ghat; in the washing machine), manage dinner and ensure that she slept on time. In addition, I had to manage my meals and my regular office work. 

The list made me dizzy. I realized that my wife actually did some work and didn't just watch TV and chit-chat on the phone!

Like a true consultant, I divided the list into three categories - 'Must Do', 'Good To Do' and 'There Is No Way I Can Do That'. After categorizing the tasks, as the newly appointed leader of the house, I made three executive decisions.

First, I called the office and informed them that I would be working from home for the next few days. They agreed.

Second, I informed the teachers that Ananya would not be able to complete her homework assignments for the next few days. They agreed. I even told my wife that studies would remain optional. (As if they had been mandatory till then or since then.) She agreed.

Lastly, I made a distress call to my sister (who lived in the same city) for help. My place was around 25 km away from both her house and office, but she thankfully agreed to stay with us and commute daily.

The dizziness went away. 

Now, my sister was in charge of meals. I had to wake Ananya up, get her ready, drop her at the bus stop, pick her up in the afternoon and put her to bed at night. 

Easy Peasy, Lemon Squeezy!! 🍋

Now, I had my sister to help me. What could possibly go wrong? 

But the little devil had other plans.

From the moment my wife stepped out of the house, my daughter knew who was in charge. She knew that her father (and to a large extent, even her Bua (Aunt)) was clueless about most things, and she exploited that knowledge with remarkable efficiency.

She would get up when she wanted. She would take her own sweet time getting ready, while her helpless father panicked and kept looking at the watch anxiously. She would tell us that she was allowed to go to school with untied hair. She would tell us that she was allowed to wear coloured socks instead of the socks that were part of her uniform. She would stroll to the bus stop with the grace of a queen, while I carried her bag and water bottle like her coolie and panted for breath.

My sister once got up early to make noodles for her for tiffin, but Ananya told us that her teacher scolded students for bringing "unhealthy" food to school. She insisted on getting a meal coupon that she could use in the school cafeteria. We had a few coupons in our emergency stash, so I gave her one.

Upon returning, she told us that she had eaten pasta. 

So much for a healthy meal! 

The next day, my sister made chapati and bhindi (Okra), but some other excuse was given and another meal coupon was extorted.

Tying her hair was a big challenge. I had never done it. My sister never had long hair, so even she was not particularly good at it. Also, I think tying your own hair is much simpler than tying someone else's hair. And if that someone is a restless little monster, it is even more difficult. 

I remember that on one of the days, my sister tied Ananya's hair multiple times, and each time the outcome was rubbished by her client. Tired and anxious, my sister made one final attempt and asked me for my opinion. 

Both of them looked at me with hope. 

Ananya hoped that I would say it was very bad. My sister - helplessness written all over her face - hoped that I would approve it. 

I approved it, though it was her worst attempt of the day! 

My mother used to roll/twist her dupattas to store them, and honestly, Ananya's hair looked like a dupatta rolled way too many times! 

That day, her teacher asked Ananya who had tied her hair, and Ananya promptly replied, "My aunt. She does not know how to tie hair." 

Her teacher tied her hair again.

During the entire period my wife was away, our lives looked like scenes from the movie The Devil Wears Prada. Ananya was like a little Miranda Priestly, and my sister and I were like the two hapless personal assistants. Every day, after dropping her at the bus stop, both me and my sister used to feel that we have won a battle. Every day, after tying Ananya's hair and receiving a reluctant, disappointed approval, my sister would fall flat on the bed, relieved to have survived the ordeal.

Thankfully, my wife returned within a week, but not before Ananya decided to fall really sick on the penultimate day...just to make us look even worse!

The Name Crisis

A couple of days back, I was chatting with my schoolmate Gandharv on WhatsApp. Gandharv and I studied together in Class 12th. To be precise, we attended class 12th together as neither of us studied!! Ours was a friendship built on bunking classes, mischief in school, shared academic irresponsibility and the continuous agony of our respective parents.

I have written about Gandharv earlier this year in my blog post titled, 'A Tale of Two Soft Drinks: A Heist Gone Wrong.' He now lives in Dehradun with his family.

Back to the incident. Gandharv needed my suggestion on something and we were exchanging messages. In the middle of the conversation, I wanted to mention his daughter's name. Only trouble was that I could not remember her name!!

In my defence, I have met his wife and daughter only once. But this is not normal for me. I am usually pretty good with names. Yet my brain had suddenly transformed into a server from 1997. No matter how much I tried, I simply could not recall her name. And I felt awkward to ask him. What kind of question is this, "what is your daughter's name?" Friends should not be asking this question.

In desperation, I turned to my wife. Women are generally better at remembering such things. Birthdays, names, what someone wore in 2014, exact wording used during an argument six years ago… they remember everything.

So, with a lot of hope, I asked, “What is the name of Gandharv’s daughter’s?” But, like most times in my life when I seek useful assistance, she was of no help.

I did not know what to do. And then, my eyes fell upon my daughter!

Now this creature possesses a very unique talent. She can remember absolutely anything and everything, provided it has no connection whatsoever with academics. So I asked...again with a lot of hope..., “What is the name of Gandharv Uncle’s daughter?”

Without blinking. Without hesitation. Without even taking half a second. She confidently replied, “Pahal.”

The speed and certainty of the answer gave it unquestionable authority. This was not a guess. This was “I know EXACTLY what I am talking about” kind of confidence!

I felt immediate relief. My wife was stunned...because my daughter had met Gandharv and his family only once and that too in 2018...when she was seven years old! Naturally, my wife immediately switched to sarcasm mode (also her default mode): "So you are able to remember this but you cannot....blah blah blah blah blah"

Like always, I stopped listening. I was too busy feeling proud of my genetically gifted offspring.

I immediately typed my message to Gandharv and included his daughter’s name with full confidence. Message sent.

Then came Gandharv’s reply. “Yeh Pahal kaun hai bey?" ("Who is Pahal?”)

I froze. I stared at the message for a few seconds. Then I slowly turned toward my daughter.

“You gave me the WRONG name?!!”

My wife, who like always derives tremendous joy whenever I embarrass myself, had already started giggling uncontrollably. I was giving a dirty look to my daughter.

And then came her response. The greatest question ever asked in human history. With absolute nonchalance...

“Who is Gandharv Uncle?”

At that moment, it became clear to me. She has no clue. None whatsoever!

Mankind is making so much progress. Artificial Intelligence, quantum computing, reusable rockets, UPI payments… but all are pale in comparison to the confidence with which children can give completely wrong information.

I cursed myself for trusting this space cadet....and asked Gandharv,"what is your daughter's name?" 

Et Tu, Brute?

I recently ordered a grapefruit from one of the instant delivery apps . In the picture it looked bright, juicy, and extremely inviting. I also realized that I might never have actually tasted a grapefruit before. Since I love citrus fruits, I decided it was time to try one.

Within minutes, the fruit arrived.

I requested my wife to bring it to me because I was eager to try it immediately. She went to the kitchen with the fruit and returned a moment later with it neatly cut into smaller portions and arranged on a plate. 

She placed it in front of me and casually said, “It’s very tasty. sweet and refreshing.”

That made me suspicious.

You see, I have a long history of playing a particular trick on her. My wife absolutely hates sour food. If she ever asks me to taste an orange or a grape first she tries it, I will take a bite and - even if it is painfully sour - I would calmly say that it is very nice. She then takes a bite and immediately regrets trusting me. The expression that follows is priceless.

So when she told me this grapefruit was “sweet,” I was not entirely convinced.

At that exact moment, my daughter walked into the room. She saw the plate and said she wanted to try some. She took a small piece, popped it into her mouth, and instantly said, “Wow! This is really nice. Very sweet.”

That changed everything. I will ALWAYS doubt my wife. But my daughter, my little angel, my little bundle of innocence? NEVER

Feeling reassured, I picked up a large piece and confidently put the entire thing in my mouth.

The next few seconds were… unforgettable.

The fruit was extraordinarily sour. Not mildly sour. Not slightly sour. It was the kind of sour that makes your eyes close automatically, your teeth clench, and your entire face rearrange itself into a very dramatic expression.

When I finally recovered and opened my eyes, I looked at my wife.

Then at my daughter.

Both of them were laughing uncontrollably.

At that moment, I realized something historic had occurred. My daughter had joined forces with my wife. This was not just a prank. This was a carefully coordinated act of deception.

This incident should always be known as one of the greatest betrayals ever executed in the history of mankind.

I may have lost this round, but the citrus wars are far from over.

The Day I Dread, Long Before It Comes

A dear friend’s daughter left for Australia today to pursue higher studies. I do not know about the friend but somehow it is making me extremely emotional. I of course know the kid, but I am not even remotely close. We have hardly interacted. Yet it is making me emotional. She is still in transit, and I cannot stop myself from thinking about her, how she will manage everything, how she will cope up in a new country, and a new environment. She is a confident girl, and I know that she would be able to manage everything well. Then, why am I freaking out?

Or is it that I am thinking about MY little one? One day she would also step out of the house to explore the world. We have been over-protective, and I know that day I would be crying buckets and shitting bricks! 

Am I thinking all of that in my subconscious mind? May be. 

I do understand that eventually everyone has to find their own path. There is no escaping that truth. Growing up, I lived largely in a cocoon-like environment of military cantonments - with structured lives, protected spaces. When I finally stepped out into the real world, I was not ready. I struggled. A lot. But I survived. I adapted. I settled down. 

So logically, there is no reason why today’s kids - despite their carelessness, indiscipline, lack of life skills (wait… I seem to have accidentally switched on my Typical Dad Mode) - will not manage the challenges that come their way. In fact, they probably have far more exposure, confidence, and resilience than we ever did.

But I am scared. And I dread that day.

Goa Trip: Some More Pics

Goa Trip: Some Pictures

Ananya 'Tyson' Ajay

Heartbreaking News

Life is so busy and everyone has their share of problems. Where is the time to feel the pain of others? I often hear that from people and I do not blame/question them at all. That is because it makes sense.

But then, I do get moved by pain of others and get the strong urge of doing something for them. It could be financial support or just putting an arm around them and hearing them out.

Just now, I read the news regarding a man in Chhattisgarh, who walked 10 KMs carrying the dead body of his 7 year old daughter. The child was suffering from high fever and extremely low oxygen levels. She succumbed to her conditions in the morning. When questioned, the authorities said that the man was told that a 'hearse' (a vehicle that is used for transporting a dead body to funeral) would be provided but the man left with the body. It does not sound convincing but that is not the point.

What must be going through the father's mind during the 10 KM walk? He must have been dying inside as his daughter was no more. Did he feel the weight? Did he speak to his daughter's body during the walk? Did he want to walk with his daughter as he would have got the chance to hug her all through the long walk? Was it difficult for him to put down his daughter at the end of journey? 

I called Ananya, hugged her and cried. She kept asking the reason but I could not say anything. I just hugged her for several minutes and kept crying.

I looked for the details of the man on internet....I do not know why...

May be its because of my love for my daughter, a father-daughter story especially moves me. I still cannot get over the incident in Kuala Lumpur involving a little girl and her Syrian refugee father.

Yesterday was Day 1 of my latest attempt to improve the health. Had a healthy breakfast. Since I will not be having the food I love (also known as junk food), Ananya made healthy (and thus non-edible) pizza, burger, fries and coke for me!!! My daughter is the best!!

Most Stressful Day of My Life

9 March 2022 - I will always remember this day as the most stressful day of my life.

In the early hours of 8th March, Ananya woke me up and complained of stomach pain and nausea. I was not alarmed as this is something that she experiences fairly regularly. By morning, the pain worsened and she starting puking frequently. Again this did not alarm us as she has had such episodes at least 10 times in the past and each time doctors treated her for stomach infection. We tried medications that were prescribed by her pediatrician in past and the puking went away. Soon the stomach pain subsided too.

In the evening of 8th March, she again started having stomach pain but this time, the pain was also on her right side. Since this was different from previous episodes - and more importantly, we were afraid that her pediatrician would not be available later in the night - we rushed to the doctor's clinic. The doctor examined her and told us that it 'could be' appendicitis. He suggested that we take her to a hospital and keep her there under observation. We immediately took her to the best children's hospital in the city.  Looking at her condition as well as the doctor note, they immediately admitted her.

All the puking in the morning had made her pretty weak and we were told that she is severely dehydrated. They started her on IV fluids and conducted few tests (x-ray of lower abdomen as well as blood culture). It was late and the radiologist was not available. We offered to take her to another branch of the same hospital or to another hospital/diagnostic center to get the ultrasound done but were told that its okay to wait till morning.

After couple of hours of getting IV fluids, Ananya started feeling slightly better...actually energetic. Her blood report showed increased WBC count as well as elevated CRP. She was given antibiotics as well as painkillers. However, the pain continued to trouble her through the night.

In the morning of 9th March, she was sent for ultrasound to another branch as the Radiologist was still not available. I could not go as only one attendant was allowed in the ambulance. After the test, Roshni called and informed that the tests have shown 'inflamed appendicitis'. She was told that the pediatric surgeon would tell us if this can be tackled through antibiotics or would a surgery be required. We were asked to wait.

10 minutes later, a nurse came and asked me to go to the insurance desk as they would require the details of the insurance and would communicate the inclusions/exclusions. I was told that afterwards, I will have to go to the billing section and they would give me the total 'tentative' estimate. There was significant urgency in her tone and I asked what is the matter? Then she told me that they are preparing for an emergency surgery and it is scheduled in next 25 minutes!! I requested to speak to the surgeon to understand the urgency but was told that I will be able to meet her only in the OT complex when they take Ananya there. I was confused and scared...something that does not help my BP and pulse rate. 

I rushed to the insurance desk and they threw truckload of jargons at me. Basically I understood that non-medical expenses would not be covered under insurance and ~22-24% of medical expenses would be covered. I did not understand the reason but honestly, I did not care about the money. My little princess was being prepared for surgery and I wanted to be with her. I just asked them if it would it be any different in case of the other two policies that covered Ananya and they hurled another truck load of jargons. 

I asked them to proceed with the fastest route and NOTHING should stop the medical process. Afterwards, as instructed, I went to the billing department and there I was given as estimate regarding the surgery. Though I did get a sense of the expenses involved but they kept emphasizing that all costs are tentative. Anyways, I signed the documents immediately and ran back to Ananya's room. Thankfully, I found the surgeon near the elevator and I asked her about Ananya's condition, is a surgery the only option, what are the risks involved and why suddenly there is a maddening rush??!!?? The doctor sensed that I am quite nervous and she calmly answered all my questions. She told me that they are preparing everything but the surgery would take place only after we give a nod. I did not know how but I wanted a second opinion.

After talking to the surgeon, I rushed to Ananya's room and found that she has already been prepped for the surgery and were bringing the wheelchair to shift her to the OT. Honestly, this pissed me off but upon talking to Roshni [and later my father], I came to know that they are in favor of getting the surgery done. I still wanted the second opinion but there was no time!!!

The surgeon met us outside the OT and once again answered our questions. Ananya was scared but asked some questions. The surgeon helped in calming her nerves. Soon afterwards, Ananya was shifted to the OT. We came out. That is when the multiple emotions got the better of me. I do not know how long the surgery lasted but I sat in a corner and cried all through. 

After the surgery ended, a nurse came and asked us to meet Ananya in the recovery room. Only one parent was allowed and Roshni allowed me to go first. The anesthesist met me outside the recovery room and asked if I am the father. I nodded. She said that Ananya is still extremely drowsy but she asked for me. I entered the recovery room. Ananya was not in her senses but opened the eyes and looked at me. Then she closed her eyes. She again opened her eyes and asked me if the operation is over. I told her that it is over and she was extremely brave all through. She again closed her eyes. Then she again opened her eyes and asked me if the operation is over. I replied the same. This happened few times. I sat there by her side and again started crying. I really do not know why. I had already been told that the surgery was successful and there is no danger. It is just that I had never seen her in this condition and do not want to ever see her in this condition.

Its 12th March today. We have to take her to the hospital today as the surgeon would examine the surgery wound and the overall health. Ananya is doing better. Hopefully, everything is fine. Looking back at all the events of 9th March, I still get the jitters. I was not prepared for the sudden surgery. It is something, I hope no parent has to go through. 

In this episode, I realized that Ananya is much braver than I think. Definitely braver than me!!!

(I must add something here. On 9th March, post the surgery, my best friend - Khaitan [Vikas Khaitan] - came to the hospital to help me in dealing with insurance. Like numerous times in my life, he was there to help and support me and his presence helped a lot. I am so thankful to have him in my life but do not deserve him one bit.) 

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