Tag: Life

Equal opportunity mispronunciations

I was attending a graduation ceremony in the USA and wondering how they managed to get so many of the names mispronounced. In fact, at that point, more than 3/4th of the names were mispronounced in one way or the other. Latin American names, Indian names, Chinese names, Jewish names, African American names, Greek names, Arabic names—everyone’s names were equally butchered. Equal-opportunity mispronunciations.

The world, whether we like it or acknowledge it, has become more global in its make-up than it has ever been. So, learning how to say each other’s name, is more important than ever. For that, learning the importance of one’s name is quite as important, isn’t it?

Sitting outdoors on that sunny afternoon,  I reflected on Suma Subramaniam’s book, My Name is as Long as a River.

My Name is as Long as a River By: Suma Subramanian

Suma Subramaniam writes about South Indian life, and is a member of the WNDB (We Need Diverse Books) initiative.

This particular book is especially relevant as there are many children with long names in schools these days.

In the book, the child is named after the river Kaveri. In fact her full name is: Kaveri Thanjavur Jayalakshmi Ganesan.

Kaveri : the name of the river she is named after. A beautiful river in South India, it is the harbinger of prosperity in the South. The rice fields, temple towns, and estuaries are the centres of culture and history millennia old. The Kaveri river waters literally help feed millions of people.

Kaveri is embarrassed by her long name in the USA, and has shortened it to Kav because it is consistently mispronounced, but after visiting her grandmother along the banks of the river Kaveri, she learns the significance of her beautiful name.

“Ganesan is my father.

Jayalakshmi is my mother.

Thanjavur is where I was born.

Kaveri is who I am.

My name is: Kaveri Thanjavur Jayalakshmi Ganesan.”

Tara Anand’s illustrations combined with Suma Subramaniam’s writing makes it a truly wonderful book, and one I think many teachers will love to use in their diverse classrooms.

What’s in a name?

For a person whose name is as long as a river, I loved the book. I know that the daughter has shortened her name with a beautiful Tamil meaning to mean something ‘brave and bold’ in Irish. I have a Starbucks-name, a more lilting explanation for those who are in the mood to try a few Hawaiian excursions into the language if they really want to pronounce my name, and so on.

I‘ve often asked children to help me understand the significance, meaning and cultural importance of their names. There are so many origins of names – some religious, some mythical, some nature-based, some philosophical references: the list is truly as varied as the names themselves.

It is curious how willingly they answer this question when younger, and then seem to almost drift away as teens for the same question. Like they would all just love to be called the same thing: wall, plant, brick. I understand it, wanting to blend in is an innate characteristic (Be a Roman in Rome & all that – the adage didn’t start yesterday did it?)

At some point in early adulthood though, the innate need to return to your unique name, hopefully, kicks in.

The magic of names

My thoughts drifted to Ursula K Le Guin, whose writings, if I remember correctly, also had a lot of interesting names. Naming was important to her. It set the place, the setting, even the story forward. How easily we can imagine an island kingdom, separate from a desert oasis town, or a hillside rural area by the names alone?

Now, pluck all these characters and have them live together in a university, and the resulting entertainment from the names is enough to tide guests through a whole afternoon.

“To weave the magic of a thing, you see, one must find its true name out… for there is great power, and great peril, in a name.” — A Wizard of Earthsea

In a non-fiction essay , Ursula Le Guin talks about the responsibility of choosing names. 

“To make up a name of a person or a place is to open the way to the world of languages the name belongs to. It’s a gate to Elsewhere.” – Ursula K Le Guin

J K Rowling’s Harry Potter series has so many interesting names, and etymologies once you get past the story, and actually delve into the details. The first time I realized Sirius & Remus names with respect to their alter-ego/animagus forms, I felt a jolt of pleasure.

Mythologies the world over have fantastic names for their characters. What is in a name then? Is it’s meaning important? Is there a specific magic to what we have been named? Is it linked to something greater or is it just a name?

The first sounds to which we respond uniquely.

What does your name mean to you? I’d love to know.

Sunsets, Asanas & Aces: A Magical June 21st

Yesterday was a beautiful summer day – it was a culmination of 3 days that are all uniquely loved in the nourish-n-cherish household. Any guesses?

Father’s Day:

This year, father’s day coincided with the summer solstice, which means the loved father in the house got to play his tennis, lounge around with the kids in the pool, and enjoy a quiet evening while the sun was still out.  

Other Father’s Day posts: Fathers

International Yoga Day:

June 21st is also International Yoga Day. So I was genuinely thrilled to start the day with an early yoga class. My muscles were just waking up- sure. The limbs not yet nimble enough – yes. The breaths not yet the even meditative quality – of course. But in spite of that, or may be because of that, the yoga class felt amazing. For all these elements had somehow been made even better by the end of the class.

Buddha in Lotus?

 

Summer Solstice:

June 21st is the summer solstice. We love the summer solstice. The son, even as a young boy, would have his friends out all day playing dawn to dusk on the longest day of the year. It was something that strangely excited him. Osmosis of energy – is that a thing? But in time, we all look forward to seeing the sunrise and sunset on summer solstice too.

When it turns out to be a pleasant day temperature-wise, breeze-wise, clouds-wise, moons-and-planets-shimmering-wise, it turns into a magical day. We went swimming, lazed around watching the sunset, moonrise, and the beautiful cosmic planets shining near the moon. Jupiter, Venus and the moon truly look beautiful in the evening skies.

Summer Solstice related posts

How did you spend the summer solstice, father’s day & yoga day?

🥬🌿 Cabbage extravaganza 🥬🌿 & 🥬🌿 Coriander dhamaka 🥬🌿

The Buy-more-save-more theory in economics

Which one do you buy?

  • The $0.50 for 1 coriander bunch OR
  • The $1 for 3 coriander bunches?

There is a theory in game theory that Mark Whatzisname wrote about. The Paradox of Choice. Give people a choice of buying 3 cokes for a dollar, or 1 coke for 50 cents, and most people would buy 3 cokes.

The pater would have bought 15 cokes for $5.

He calls it Economics (Buy-more-save-more) . The rest of us call it a variety of names – well, this is a family-friendly blog, so let’s keep away from that shall we?

Anyway, what I am trying to say is that I could have bought 3 coriander bunches. I bought 1 coriander bunch for 50 cents. 

The economic upheavals of choice

In that one second interaction, in which I told the billing clerk – ‘It’s okay. I’ll just take this.”, it is astounding the number of things that went through my head.

🥬🌿 The father’s disappointed face. As mentioned, he is a big connoisseur of the buy-more-save-more theory. He is proud of it. He says that is the path to economic prosperity- so in that small act, was I rebelling against the pater? Delayed as far as rebellions go – who rebels after leaving teenage behind so long ago? The pimples a distant memory of turbulence on the face.

🥬🌿 The potential chutneys and thogayals the extra 2 bunches could have gotten me.

🥬🌿 I was already long in line. I had to leave the store in minutes – did I really need to hold up the line for 2 bunches of coriander that cost less than a dollar? Not to mention the half-rotting bunch already in the fridge. There is only so much coriander a nuclear family can consume.

Now, there are people who will come and tell you not to let things like occupy your mind for longer than its worth. I ask you. Who is to tell my brain this?

Paternal disappointment is a hard thing to swallow. I saw the pater’s face across all the decades, across the churning oceans, and across the continents on Earth crumple in disappointment. And I felt a stab of guilt. I almost gave in and went back to running across the aisles of the grocery store. Luckily I had places to be.

🥬🌿 Cabbage-o-phobia from Cabbage Extravaganzas 🥬🌿

I called the parents that evening, and was greeted with the mother’s characteristic shriek. “Your father has bought a large cabbage again! What am I do with 3 large cabbages for a family of 4?”

I shelved the coriander problem to attend to the more urgent cabbage problem, and asked the pater what he was thinking. Did he not know there were two large cabbages at home already – given that he had bought them himself the previous day?

“Yes kondhai (child) – but they were on sale. Yesterday, it was a buy-one-get-one cabbage sale. Today was a cabbage extravaganza.” He said looking befuddled as to how his sound economics was landing him in trouble again.

“There are so many cabbage dishes – you can make cabbage curry, cabbage kootu.” Then, he looked lost again – his cabbage repertoire seems to have given out at this point, and he looked to me for help. I laughed, and gave the mother ways to hide a cabbage in cooking – “You can boil it, and mash it for pav bhaji, sneak some into soup, without everyone developing a cabbage-o-phobia.”

Note to reader: There  is a phobia of cabbages that falls under the Lachanophobia bucket, also known as  Brassicaphobia.

“Do you know what I sent him to buy? Ladies finger (okra). The child has been asking for vendakkai (okra in Tamil)  curry – so I sent him to buy just that since he already went grocery shopping yesterday. He came back without vendakkai and a large cabbage the size of his head instead!” She said.

Cabbage extravaganza & Coriander dhamaka indeed!

I laughed, and felt this was a good point in the story to lord my superior decision making skills with the coriander bunches.

Really, after all these decades on this planet as a daughter to these two, I have learnt nothing I tell you.

The moment I said it, the father moaned. “You left free coriander on the table? Have I taught you nothing?”

The mother who was shrieking about cabbages not even half a minute ago, turned on me with equal disappointment, “You could have made coriander pickle and stored them for over a month! “

“Yes – why don’t you call me after you are done pickling the cabbages?!” I said smartly, and put the phone down. Grocery stores really don’t realize their social responsibilities, the time and effort their deals cost us. Indo-US relations

Cabbage extravaganza & Coriander dhamaka indeed!

🫐 It’s a 🫐 Plum 🫐 Life! 🫐

🫐 It’s Plum Season 🫐

I’ve written about the Joys of Jam Making.  I do love the fruitful camaraderie from plum season.

I waved at the Fed Ex truck driver as he turned into our street. The son said, urgency dripping in his voice, “Quick ma! Now you’ve established contact – you can give him some plums!”

I stared at him.

A beat.

Then. I started laughing.

The wag!

I have been accosting all those who come home with delicious plums, but this felt a bit much. Plum season in our neighborhood arrives with a splash. Suddenly, there are dozens of plums plopping all over the backyard. Ripe, tasty, beautiful plums.

🫐 Plums in a Splash 🫐

I cannot help missing the mater. If she were here, she would be making plum jams, plum chutneys, plum pickles, plum juice, plum rasam till we all heartily felt sick of plums. I myself have been going in and picking up plums by the dozen and bringing them in to share with friends. I can barely understand how quickly the bare tree, bloomed into the prettiest blossoms, and gave in to the light green beautiful leaves before sagging with fruits at every point.

It is a miracle, and yet, every year, I am mesmerized.

One day, I felt three plums hit me from the topmost branch. I was picking those that had fallen, and then realized that these three could have been the handiwork of squirrels. I looked up at them beseechingly. What was the point of all that exciting running around and chasing each other on fences if they weren’t helping out with the plums? As if responding to me, one cheekily stopped and held my stare, as if to say, “I have had my fill. A fella has got to jump and run!”

🫐 Did You Know? 🫐

Fruits arriving in bounty are a blessing. The children, despite my best retreats, continue to resist the lure of fruits. Every year I start it up – each time with a different taste-bud related tip. “Did you know? Your taste buds change over time?”

“Did you know having a fiber-rich helping of fruits helps your gut bacteria?”

“Did you know fruits help make you happier because the gut bacteria love digesting them?”

“Did you know this?”

Or

“Did you know that?”

To which, I also receive a plummy reply, “Did you know we don’t like plums?”

What I did not know until recently, is that not all plums dried become prunes. Of course I had a gooey rotting mess before I learnt that particular fact, but apparently, only a certain variety of European plums can be dried to be preserved as prunes. Oh well.

If I could send some plummy goodness via the internet, I would. But as it is, somethings still require physical proximity. But if you are in the vicinity, please stop by. We’ll have a plum time!

Moon, plum blossoms, this, that, and the day goes

Kobayashi Issa

P & L : Build Your P In Life

Life with Purpose or Passion?

I sat with a set of children’s books in my arms. I looked down fondly at the pile next to me – I did love this particular selection. For nestling in there were the kind of careers that I had not imagined since being a child myself – A balloonist, giraffologist, naturalist.

The Giraffologist – Anne and her Tower of Giraffes – by Karlin Gray and Aparna Varma

I picked up the book on Dr Annie and read about how she decided on a lifetime studying giraffes. What remarkable creatures? No wonder it fascinated a young girl all those decades ago when zoos did not have them. World travel and exotic creatures felt almost impossible. She tried studying zoology just so she could learn more about giraffes. But nobody had studied them in any detail.

As I looked at the pictures in the book, Dr Annie came to life again. In her gentle understanding of these creatures in a time when they only graced black-and-white illustrations of some books.

Butterflies open up Etymology

I thought of Maria Sibylla Merian and her love for butterflies in the 18th century. She raised caterpillars and painstakingly drew and described metamorphosis. I am not sure if it was a revolutionary discovery, but it certainly seems to have opened up the world of etymology to the western world.

Sylvia Earle – the oceanographer who spent more than 7000 hours underwater, in a lifelong journey to understand the astounding diversity of life in the marine world.

The fact that these women kept at their areas of passion is inspiring – I wonder what their personalities were like. Beyond the obvious curiosity, intelligence, perseverance etc. What were the forces that shaped them?

Life’s Calling, Yearning or Liking

I remember reading in Stephen Cope’s book, The Great Work Of Your Life – A Guide for the Journey to your True Calling, about Jane Goodall’s mother encouragement when she couldn’t find her daughter one day. She searched for her for 4 hours only to find that the young child had simply been curious to find out about how an egg came to this world. Jane had spent the afternoon in the chicken coop waiting for the hens to lay eggs. Instead of chastising her for it, her mother saw a passion in the young child and nurtured it instead.

I was a little wary of the book when I picked it up. Purpose, and finding your life’s purpose etc were things that had given me enough existential grief over the years. When people told me we each were born with a purpose, I felt a little lost. Like everyone was born with a map( “Here you go – keep it safe and look it up when ever you want!”), just before arriving, and I had missed picking it up – dreaming I suppose.

I feel no great calling to study deer as much as I love gazing at them. I never felt the urgent yearning to study Compiler Design though I thoroughly enjoyed the subject. I did not seem to have that intense humanitarian strain either that came to Mother Teresa in life. In fact, apart from musing and writing about life in general, I am not sure I had any inner force driving my inner purpose etc. All I knew was that I could spend hours in nature and in my own imagination. I liked company, but was also quite capable of amusing myself.

Where did that lead?

I remembered reading Mark Twain’s words:

“The two most important days in your life are the day you are born and the day you find out why.”

I don’t remember the former, and I am waiting for the latter. I am well aware that I am in the second innings of my life, so I am not sure the realization that Mark Twain had, is coming for me.

What appealed to me more was a concept I read in passing somewhere: Build your purpose.

So while I find it wonderful that for some people their purpose seems apparent to them, and their motivations align beautifully with their life’s journeys, I think that for many of us, the meandering journey is life. The purpose is built along the way. If we can find things to be passionate about, that is great, but it isn’t a given. 

This wasn’t the first time I mused on professions and its link as a means of economic prosperity. If the two weren’t linked. If money was not the primary driver, what kinds of jobs would people choose?

What Would You Do?

I remembered the Elephant Keeper I had met and befriended on a day trip in Ireland. She & I were the only ones who had come without companions on that sight-seeing trip, so we took to talking to each other. It was the most fascinating day-in-the-life I had heard from someone in person. She lived on a farm, worked with elephants, and sent me pictures and videos of the gentle giants in her care. Her love for them evident in each of them.

What would each of you have chosen if livelihoods, and societies weren’t involved in the decision-making? The wackier the jobs the more I’d like to hear them. So, please let me know.

Up to my neck!

The Giraffologist 

I sat with a set of children’s books in my arms. I looked down fondly at the one in my hands. The first one was about a giraffologist – the title pulling my attention almost immediately. What a delightful sounding profession?

The Giraffologist – Anne and her Tower of Giraffes – by Karlin Gray and Aparna Varma

The book is based on Dr Annie Innis Dagg who was the world’s first giraffologist. The world’s first primatologist, Dr Jane Goodall, is of course well-known. But Dr Annie, who went to Africa to study her favorite animals, giraffes, just 4 years later is practically unheard of. That is the weird nature of public attention.

https://www.cbc.ca/news/canada/kitchener-waterloo/new-heritage-minute-anne-innis-dagg-giraffes-1.7648146

Dr Annie’s life and work was made into a documentary in Canada honoring her work towards preserving these tall creatures.

The daughter’s drawing of a giraffe:

Bill Bryson’s book, The Body – A Guide for Occupants

I was thinking of giraffes and their beautiful necks one day after reading Bill Bryson’s book, The Body – A Guide for Occupants. One section of the book dealt with how prone we are to choke. One particularly sad anecdote about a person who had a gold coin lodged in his throat was especially excruciating. If nothing else, I am glad we now live in a time and age when surgical techniques have come so far from the ones outlined in the book. (The coin only fell out when he was hoisted by his foot and swung like a pendulum. )

Beautiful Necks Everywhere!

Our evolution into bipedalism means that necks took on a truly unique structure to support the head, and provide a forward looking face for navigation. I stopped and chuckled at that. I was on a walk, and just like that, I started noticing necks everywhere. The crane, the gray heron, the hummingbird, the dog, squirrel and the cat.

I got home to look up the giraffe’s neck again.

Did you know that both giraffes and humans have the exact same number of bones in our necks : 7

Yet, the giraffe’s neck supports its long neck, and its heart supports pumping blood all the way up there. All those jokes about tall folks( How’s-the-weather-up-there?) suddenly feels biologically profound.

In any case, the understanding of our biology, our evolution, and our unique places in the planet is shaped by so many factors –  How many giraffes with weird ears and longer tails evolved before the long necked ones that we know and love?

I craned my neck to look at a white egret crook its neck and plunge into the waters with precision and force for its breakfast, and gently massaged my own neck. ‘Up to my neck with worries’ took on a new meaning too, and I hoped giraffes and herons never had to use that phrase, when worried.

21 Years of Blogging – My Blog is now an Adult!

21 years of blogging

Just like that, my blog has become a proper functioning adult. 

21 years of selectively writing about what matters to an ordinary person. Somehow, reflecting on the writing makes it seem like our lives were more adventurous, humorous, and fun-filled. 

Now, isn’t that a lovely gift? 

I was reading Bill Bryson’s book, The Body, and in it, he says something incredible about memories – that we can predominantly choose what we want to remember. That often our most colorful memories aren’t the original ones at all – but rather deepened by the feeling and retelling of it. We’ve seen it in the stories we love to tell each other all the time. Every time we laugh about our own foibles, it makes the memory a more endearing one, doesn’t it? 

Where am I going with all this?

Curating the blog’s theme

I realize that I am probably tending to what gets on my blog. I tend to actively gravitate towards what I want to cherish in life – beautiful moments, humorous moments, peaceful moments, intellectual moments: in short, moments of awe, curiosity, love, levity, and transformation. The negative rooted out like weeds (which is not to say that I don’t have them. I do, of course. Just in measured quantities on the blog.) 

Anyway.

There are no awards given for 21 years of writing 1-2 blog posts a week, every week for 1092 weeks. 5-9 posts a month for 252 months. The award is the writing, and the wholly generous readers who stop by to wave, hopefully feel a moment of peace, get a laugh or two, and encourage me endlessly. 

So, go ahead – this is a party! 

Get drunk – I mean on the posts in the blog. I don’t actually offer alcohol. Please head on over and randomly click on any month, read a few, and let me know what you think, or you know, just have fun. 

“I mused for a few moments on the question of which was worse, to lead a life so boring that you are easily enchanted, or a life so full of stimulus that you are easily bored.”

― Bill Bryson, Lost Continent: Travels In Small-Town America

Is there more to life?

Is there more to life? Our lives? Most lives? I don’t know. But I know that ‘this one precious life’, as Mary Oliver puts it demands our attention. What you value, and what you remember over the moments of your life, becomes you, doesn’t it?

To pay attention, this is our endless and proper work. – Mary Oliver

P.S: WordPress tells me I have a significant achievement: World Domination – for receiving visitors from over 150 countries – with the sweet caption: The United Nations has nothing on you.

Emperor Emperor – Which emperor do you choose?

Who is your favorite emperor?

“Who is your favorite king/emperor/ruler?” I asked my friend.

Without a second’s hesitation, he came up with the name I knew he would come up with. “Genghis Khan.” He calls it the greatest rags to riches story (personally, I reserve that category for J K Rowling).

A link to his posts on Genghis Khan if you’re interested.

Genghis Khan

When I posed the same question to the husband he said, “Chandragupta Maurya.”

The son gave me a wily smile as if smirking at the very question, and shouldn’t I know it? I smiled, “Of course! Napoleon! Fine – your turn – guess my favorite ruler then!”

“I think Ashoka.”

“Yes!’ And I beamed at him. “I always like a sappy story about a guy who sees the error of his ways, and makes amends.”

Napolean cures jetlag

I don’t know how, but I found myself being lured into a documentary about Napoleon after my trip back from India. Severely jet-lagged, and slightly bleary eyed, I agreed.

The son and the husband have this deplorable habit of checking to see if I am still awake while they make me watch things close to their heart. “Amma!”, he said straight into my ears, sounding like Napolean’s horse charging into battle, on multiple occasions. Finally, after Part 1 was over he allowed me to go bed. I suppose unlike his dear Napoleon, he spotted a losing battle when he saw one.

Historically Speaking …

Now I don’t know how folks get over jet lag. But I suggest the Napoleon documentary followed by a swift 12 hour deep slumber for the desired results. I felt fresh and ready to take on the world the next day as I puttered around the kitchen making coffee.

“Thanks to Napoleon, I had a good night’s sleep yesterday!” I said to the son, who looked confused for a moment and then chuckled at the statement:  I had to agree.

Napolean – the granter of peaceful slumber?

Napoleon could be credited with many things, but granting peaceful sleep was not something he achieved during his times. At least a million families knew of heartbreak and grief thanks to his relentless pursuit of power, his myriad schemes and questionable policies across Europe in the late 1700’s and early 1800s. How many families lost their sleep thanks to this man?

I said as much to the son.

“Well at least centuries after his death, he gave peaceful sleep to one jet lagged sad person who was forced to watch a documentary!” I said sticking my tongue out at the son’s horrified expression.

How could I say that about a documentary on his dear Napoleon?!

But if anything he is a good sport, and has Part 2 waiting.

Who is your favorite emperor?

Imaginating Nothing

 

Nothing Good!

“How was your day?”

“Good!”

“What did you do?”

“Nothing!” 

For years, this was the standard response I got. It takes grit and determination to get past that answer every day for years. My school’s motto was Never Give In for a reason. I plunge on. “So when is Dr Seuss week? Should we buy a Dr Seuss hat?” (We still have the hat somewhere I think.) “It’s read-across-America week right? What should we read for our read-a-thon?”

You see? The thing is, I cannot imagine their school to be a place where nothing happens. It can’t be when they are making diasporas of dinosaur habitats, writing book reports of The Magic Tree House, learning about exotic animals – supposedly in preparation for their field trip to the zoo, and making art so their little fingers look like they dipped their hands into a rainbow. 

Yet. Nothing and Good. Good for Nothing answers both.

Then, something wonderful happened. 

Literature Lives

I started volunteering in elementary school classrooms. Sometimes, as a volunteer teaching experimental science, other times as a connoisseur introducing fine books of literature. 

“Oh! You’re a Booklegger lady now? Cool Amma! I used to love when they came to school.” said the son one day when I told him that I had signed up to become a Booklegger volunteer at the local library. 

“You knew about this program?” I said, stunned.

“Yeah, of course! It was always fun when the Booklegger people came.” He said.

“All those years I asked you, how was your day? And you never said a thing!” I said, somewhat stung at this omission. The children knew I would have loved to hear about volunteers from the library coming to introduce new books to them. Especially when I had to beg them to read books other than Captain Underpants and Dog Man all the time. He shrugged, and said “Eh!”, good-naturedly and moved on.

Nothing – by Michael Molinet

One day, I read the book, NOTHING – By Michael Molinet

“You have to read this. “ I said pressing the book to the son as he pranced into the house after biking with his friends one evening. 

https://www.amazon.com/Nothing-Michael-Molinet/dp/1733354840/ – NOTHING by Michael Molliner Book 

You see? The book even starts off with the exact sequence I wrote about earlier. How was your day? Fine! What did you do? Nothing.

The book captures the spirit behind the word ‘Nothing’ the way the son says it so perfectly, it is like the author has been around watching the son imaginate.

Imaginating Nothing

He loves to imaginate. A verb he coined himself and a word that has become a household word in the nourish-n-cherish home. It means actively imagining scenarios and living them. I know he fights off pirates and takes on armies when he leaps off the bed to the carpeted floor. The fake swords may not survive an actual duel on the battlefield, but the cushions in the house don’t stand a chance! 

So many times, the only thing that has stopped me from running out of the house fearing an earthquake, is the fact that earthquakes are felt from the earth, not from the bedroom upstairs. When his friends are over to play, the Richter scale shivers and stutters. 

Please head on over to the book to see what Nothing means when your child says they did ‘Nothing’ all day. I assure you it is more exciting than anything any of us do.

If only the Good days on which we do Nothing are half as exciting!

Good! Nothing! Good-For-Nothing Answers!

Nothing Good!

“How was your day?”
“Good!”

“What did you do?”
“Nothing!”

For years, this was the standard response I got from the children after school. Never one to be deterred though, I’d redirect, prod, ask specific questions: What did Shriya say about your new drawing pencils? Did Shrinik do somersaults after lunch today also?

You see? The thing is, I could not imagine their school to be a place where nothing happened, and the best adjective for the day was ‘Good!’. I knew for a fact that they listened to their teacher read out stories, they hopped along the number line, slid up and down through graphs, chased butterflies, had turf wars with sticks and stones, played sharks and minnows in the playground, were enthralled as they enacted civil wars, made the artwork that papered the walls of their colorful classroom, and so much more.

Yet. Nothing and Good. Good for Nothing answers both.

Then, something wonderful happened.

Dancers Move!

I started volunteering in elementary school classrooms, as a volunteer – sometimes reading out books, other times, teaching experimental science.

One day, we were experimenting with air pressure and force with the kindergarten children. One of the experiments was to blow bubbles to see how the bubbles stayed airborne. It was a lovely windy day, and the bubbles were a joy to teacher, volunteers, and students alike. There were delighted gasps as large bubbles drifted off into the air, and much chasing after the smaller bubbles.

When finally, the class was done, and we headed back into the classroom, the teacher said, “Oh! They have too much energy. They’ll never settle down to sit and do anything now. Let me get them to release some energy first!” I wondered what she would do, as recess was behind us, and lunch time was a while away.

I started laughing when I saw her switching on some music. “Dancers Move!”, she said, and the children seemed to know what to do. I watched mesmerized as the little ones danced to the music. What a wonderful way to blow off some extra energy?

“Education is what remains after one has forgotten what one has learned in school.” —Albert Einstein

I thought everyone danced!

I narrated the whole thing to the teenaged son later that day as went on a windy day walk, and he laughed, “Yes! I remember doing that all the time!”

I tell you.

“All those times I asked you how was your day, and you said ‘Good!’, you danced in school?” I said, flustered more by this than the whipping winds.

“Yes…but don’t you see? It was good. Yes. But we did it all the time. It was nothing new.”

“Why do you think I yearned to hear about your days? We didn’t dance in the office!”

“Yes, but we didn’t know that! I thought every one danced!”

I couldn’t help it. I started laughing. It is true isn’t it? He didn’t know what our days were like. If anything, our days were good too. Just not listening-to-stories, playing-with-air-bubbles on windy days, and dancing to let-off-steam good.

So, what do your good days look like? You know? The days you do nothing.

Please share, I’d love to hear.