Moving back to India - The equation of children

Our move to India has a lot to do with how and where we want our children to be brought up for their equation in our lives has always been close to our hearts.

Salmons migrate to their natal springs every time they want to breed. They overcome hurdles to swim upstream from the ocean to river beds so they can spawn exactly at the same location they were born. Birds are also known to migrate every year to their set breeding grounds. What is it in that birthplace that is so special? Is it the security of familiar grounds? So, by moving back to India, I am following suit to nature’s call? We actually moved back when the eldest was still 4 years old, an age at which she is still flexible enough to adapt to new society, culture and upbringing. 

Apart from the fact that we wanted our kids to be closer to grandparents, and Indian culture, moving back was an incentive to provide my kids the opportunity to learn key lessons of survival and life that I had learnt growing up in India which cannot be learnt anywhere else. 

Let me quote some anecdotes from my childhood and student life that will help you understand what I mean by this.

Value of Education

We call our spouses our better halves. What should we call our children? Are they our mirror images? Do we live our dreams through them? My mother truly lived her dream through us. 

Born in a middle class Tamil Brahmin family, our asset was our brain and my mother ensured that we made very good use of it. There was a reason behind this, and that was to fulfill her dream of giving us the highest education one could ever get. Born as the eldest, although she excelled in school, she couldn’t pursue higher studies after her 10^th grade as she let her brother continue (could afford to send only one sibling to college).  Her story has always inspired me that being a girl should NOT stop me from seeking what I want in life. 

My mother coached myself and my brother to excel in everything we do, may it be school curriculum or extra-curricular activities. Growing up, I was scared showing my report card to my mom if I came 2^nd in class, or missed the 1^st rank by few marks, for my mom expected nothing less than the best. I still have fond memories of her disciplinary behavior that I had to really work hard to earn my treat.  She would promise me a “5 star chocolate bar” only if I stood 1^st in class. 

Have we ever thought why don’t we think about giving our kids such high standards to achieve? Why do we relent into giving them a chocolate or anything they want as soon as they throw a tantrum or ask for it? Why do we make it so easy for them? 

My mom’s expectations were not only in studies but in any activity we partake, may it be dance, music, debate, elocution, memory contest, quiz competition, sports, you name it and we would try to be one of the best. Eventually, this need to be the best amongst severe competition became our second nature and we no longer needed mom to help us excel. My brother was the topper in his 10^th grade and eventually was the very first in our family to go to US for higher studies with full assistantship.

I followed suit by being the topper, all rounder and gold medalist throughout my student life.  When I failed to qualify for medical seat after writing the common entrance exam, it was my mother who broke down.   My brother became the engineer she dreamed about, however, I failed to fulfill her other dream of becoming the doctor she wanted me to be.  My downstairs neighbor Uncle told her that day, “Don’t you worry; your daughter is eventually going to become a doctor - of philosophy if not of medicine”.  

I really don’t know if this was what made me pursue my doctoral degree or the fact that I heard my mom argue with my brother that it is better to get me married than to let me pursue my PhD, as I would end up in the kitchen as a housewife no matter what!  Whether I wanted to prove it to her or myself, I don’t know, whatever it was, the road from kindergarten to PhD was worth all the effort, as it taught me the value of humility, patience, perseverance and above all the will power to complete what I started.   

Humble beginnings – Value of hardship

My dad was a secretary to CEO of a company, and provided a modest living for his family. Even though he started earning in the gulf during most of our childhood, he used to give my mom a monthly allowance that was used in providing for us. We used to live in our own apartment with all comforts. However, we had our ground rules to follow. Food was never wasted, everything was given in moderation. My very first birthday party with a cake was celebrated when I was 10 years of age and I remember going to the city to buy my cake.  We used to go the city market to buy vegetables and fruits at a good price, and carry them back in heavy bags, walking by foot and taking public transport (bus) home. That was usually a whole day’s activity. 

When we rented in the city, there was always a line for drinking water due to water scarcity, and mom and I used to climb stairs to to fill drums with water (as we lived in 2^nd floor and the water line was downstairs).  After moving to our own house, there was no water scarcity as the colony had a borewell. However we were living in quite a remote place where there was no public transport. So, in the beginning, we used to walk a mile or two to take the train and walk a mile or two again to reach school from the train station. Once bus services started, we used to change 2-3 buses and walk by foot to go to school. Taking a auto rickshaw was a luxury in those days and cost a lot of money, so we rather get up early and take the bus.    

For my coaching classes in 12^th grade, I used to take the bus at 4:30 AM, go to the other side of city by changing 2-3 buses for a 6:30 AM class. After class, I used to attend college from 10 AM to 6 PM in my side of town, and reach home at 7 PM, more than 12 hours from home. This was for an entire year; all to attain a medical seat that I failed to qualify. 

My brother owned a bicycle that he used to use to ride to school.  Once he left to college, I used the same bicycle to run errands around home, and love riding it just for breath of fresh air in the mornings. We never owned a car, as it was a luxury, cost a lot of money and we could live without.  

Vacations were once a year during Summer when my dad visited us from gulf, to South of India, and always by train, that too in second class Non AC coaches.  I visited Delhi, the capital of India, and the Taj Mahal, both in the North of India for the very first time after marriage while I was in the US.   Even now my mom travels by second class Non AC and 3 Tier AC coaches.  Recently she enjoyed her very first travel in 2 tier AC coach for which she thanked me to have bought her the ticket as she would never have thought of spending that money on herself. Apart from my dad who used to travel to gulf by flight, my brother, mother and myself travelled for the very first time by flight when we went to the US. 

My first semester in the US was the most hardest, for I did not have a waiver ship.  My brother paid the fees, but I worked 20 hr/week during spring semester and 40 hrs/week during summer to earn by living. Working as a lab assistant included cleaning test tubes, taking care of hazardous waste, and helping grad students in their thesis work.  There was this one graduate student I used to help who was disabled and bitter, that made my life very difficult, as he would have me work odd hours, and remind me that he was the boss. But working with him taught me the value of patience and how sincerity towards work can make people believe in you. As classic PIG (poor Indian Graduate) I worked throughout my MS, saved enough to pay back my brother and go on trips to see places with friends. My perseverance to maintain zero tolerance for mistakes resulted in me getting straight A (4.0/4.0 GPA) in my MS, and a seat in PhD program in UW-Madison, WI. 

However, my MS committee rejected my thesis as it was poorly written (my mentor hardly read the thesis). If not for the timely help of this angel by the name Dr. Kropf who was a senior Professor in the department, UW Madison alumni, I would not have graduated or continued in my PhD program. My continued excellence in the department, and the fact that I was his favorite student, he stood for me in front of the committee in a staff meeting (he was not even my mentor) and made them to agree to review my thesis if resubmitted within a week. He then took time along with another graduate student to edit my thesis so I can graduate in time. His help made me realize that life is always full of surprises and we should never lose hope! Good will always happen to those who believe in themselves. 

Coming to UW Madison was a haven after my experiences in Kansas State. The program was completely paid for with full assistantship, had a wonderful mentor, and earned some of the best friendships. It was a great University with excellent student services that allowed me to explore many new activities (rock climbing, sailing, skiing, dancing, trekking, tennis). My time at Madison was one of the best in my entire stay in the US.  Do you think I would have appreciated all that I got at Madison, if I had similar opportunities at Kansas? 

Life had its surprises at Madison as well. After 2 years of working on my PhD thesis, the funds ran dry and my Professor changed my project completely to a new one. I had to start from square one all over again. It was 2 years of lost work! However with all that I had to go through, I sprinted forward with optimism and graduated in almost 6 years (another 4 years) with a patent up my sleeve and 2 publications. It was a roller coaster but was again all worth it. I earned a great partner in my husband who stood by me all through my PhD and graduated with 3 degrees in Business waiting for me.

My experiences and hardships in life have shaped the person I am today. I have the confidence that no matter what,  I can give my best and survive any adversity in life.  

Why move to India?

We had a very comfortable life in the US, secure jobs, a beautiful home, two cars, a dog and two girls. Life was too easy, especially for the kids. They just needed to get to the car from the garage to get chauffeured from Point A to B. Always protected from the sun, rain or snow; they hardly felt the elements unless they were going out camping or outdoor trekking for fun.  Outdoor activities were replaced by indoor games, less physical and social activities. Living in dust free environment, with very little pollution, they would never have built the immunity as we had growing up in India.

Living in independent houses, and living in a society that doesn’t barge into other’s privacy, parents schedule play dates and sleep overs for kids to interact and have a social life. Schools emphasize overall development with less stress on doing well in exams. There is more of complacency instead of competitiveness. Children are hardly disciplined the way our parents disciplined us. For example: Growing up we never were given a choice. Dinner was placed in front of us and we had to finish it. Today, we give our kids choices and they get to pick what they want to eat for dinner!  

Moving to India, our kids go by auto rickshaws to school (Pune bus service is not the best), study in an Indian school that believes in bringing up kids with proper discipline and yet with loads of fun.  The school has a set menu for lunch box that parents are to follow, and if we don’t, the children give us the reminder to stick to it. Even if we are late by 5 min to class, we are dismissed for the whole day from school. 

On Wednesdays, it is color dress day (not uniform day), but once we forgot and sent our child in Uniform. We were sent back to get a color dress immediately, just because the child should not feel odd amongst others. Each class at school is a strength of 60 students! Yet each student is given individual time such that if child is missing a hair band or a pony tail, a note is sent home to follow the rules.  This is the type of soft discipline that we have started to love about the school that is based on being consistent.  

We always travel by train (well we moved up to 3 tier AC), and have discovered India since we moved back. We have seen people in various walks of life, travellend in dusty buses, autos, and even crowded trains. Seeing poverty, kids begging on the streets, beggars, homelessness and destitute has hopefully taught our kids the value of home, life with a roof on top and the joys of just living a comfortable life. I have seen in them the urge to help the needy for they always want to give something to the poor when somebody asks for alms.  

Kids in our building play together every day or during the weekends. There is no need for play dates or sleep overs as they visit each other’s houses without invitation. There is constant team work during play as they build social and leadership skills and learn to deal with conflicts within their little community of friends. 

I make it a point to do many household chores ourselves with very little help of a maidservant. This is to inculcate the value of “swayamkrishi” - “self work” within our kids. Gandhiji ‘s rule in all his satyagraha  ashrams is the same in that no human is employed to do other’s chores. Once when we were cleaning our car, the neighbor’s kid came by and asked us innocently as to why we are cleaning our car. Don’t we have a driver or a servant to do the cleaning? Well, I said to him, that no, we did not and that we prefer to clean it ourselves. My kids helped me and then started cleaning their bicycles themselves. 

I want them to appreciate the comforts, lifestyle and education we provide them, especially when they see the underprivileged and find ways to live life to the fullest. In short, if my children learn to survive the competition in India and excel in what they do, I have the confidence they will survive anywhere in the world.

Moving Back to India - The equation of Parents

The common question I get from friends and family is how I feel about moving back to India, now that it has been 2 years since our move. Many are genuinely surprised that we chose to leave, because they have come across folks who move only due to necessity. Either because they couldn't make it well in US due to job security, or their visa expired. We had US work permits, well paying jobs, owned our home, basically living the American dream so to speak.

Bringing up our kids (especially girls) in India and be closer to aged parents (who couldn't settle in US for various reasons) were our two big reasons for our move. Close friends and family who have struggled with us to obtain this American dream tried hard to convince us otherwise with various ways of overcoming these issues. There were many examples provided about raising kids abroad without loosing Indian identity. I intend to write my thoughts about ABCD (American Born Confused Desis (Indians)) at a later time. Today I wanted to talk about choosing to be close to aged parents. 

As a parent, I understand the feeling of unconditional love any parent has towards an offspring. This selfless love is what drives a parent to spend every penny of their hard earned life earnings on their kids so they can study abroad and make the American (London/Any city abroad) dream come true.

Parents are the most hardest equations in our lives across the board. The experiences of parents of NRIs who get permits to live abroad with their kids, is very similar to a roller coaster or marriage. The first few years are the best. You get to visit places, help kids raising grand-kids, help out with household chores etc. Later as age and ailments increase, parents are physically and mentally tired of the routine, feel they are no longer useful for their kids, they feel sorry that kids have to bear huge medical expenses on their behalf, experience a life of fish out of water living in boring suburbs missing the lively culture and community back at home. They start existing not living counting their days of existence or make things very difficult for people living with them. Some parents realize it sooner and choose to not migrate abroad.

Kids start finding alternate homes for their loving parents. For kids living abroad in western cultures, it is very common to see parents living alone or in old age homes. In India, with the increase in nuclear families, and the growing concept of "give us our personal space" especially in homes with live-in parents who love to advise (in other words interfere), we are seeing more parents residing in old age homes.

The growth of retirement homes (private or charity) in India is a direct affect of this phenomenon. These homes cater to that population of senior citizens who cannot take care of themselves because they are old, sick, lonely or orphaned by their own. Children who are too busy to or cannot (due to the continental divide) take care of their aging parents have a sense of security that their parents will be happy and healthy in Retirement homes where there is 24/7 care.

I recently visited a retirement home in Pune run by a Sikh missionary as part of our company community service. It was not a high end community living, but was a very good facility that had all the amenities a retirement home would provide, a classic example I had always heard about from my mom but had a chance to visit for the very first time.

There were nurses or providers who cooked, cleaned and took care of the old, diseased and healthy senior citizens. There were private and public wards (rooms with many beds/cots). Private rooms catered to the ones who could afford it, could have 1-3 beds (depends on the funds), while Public rooms (10-20 beds/room) were for individuals who come with nothing (no funds). Male and Female wards were separate, with a community room for activities, temple within the premises for worship, special wards for sick patients (critical ones that need hospitalization) and 24/7 nursing station. The place was very clean, with a mess that catered food to seniors to their rooms and the care givers were  the most self less I have ever seen.

We had visited the home to meet with people, socialize and also conducted a karoeke where we invited folks to sing and share their talent. Couple of them sang (one of them was completely blind), there was a poet amongst us whose poetry was philosophical, and in general they were entertained. However, there was this unspoken vacuum, a melancholy, a feeling of being very lonely (orphaned), and sheer helplessness. More than the music and entertainment, the most they cherished was the simple fact that we came to visit and spend time with them, listened to their experiences, taking time from our busy schedules. They remembered their kids and their grand kids when they saw us. 

I spoke to very few who really opened up (most of them are quiet, with a quaint smile) and their stories were very moving. There was a lady (Punjabi) who was hard at speaking due to a recent throat operation. She said that she had so many kids, and grand kids (Nani hoon, Pernani hoon) living in Mumbai (nearby metro city) but yearns to see them as no one comes to see her. She was with her kids taking care of them, but now that she has many health issues, the kids have chosen to send her here. She lived in a shared 3 person private ward. Her possesions were a small cupboard for clothes and personal things. She told us that the caregiver takes care of her more than her son and always wonders why God is testing her.

Another lady told us that she has three sons but chose to come to the home on her own accord as she did not want to be dependent on them. She seemed very healthy, lives in the public ward (unfunded). Although she never complained, she also never really smiled and found the same melancholy in her eyes of being orphaned as no one really visits her as well. She told us that very few seniors have visitors come to see them, even though many are from Pune!

One of my collegues had brought her two year old son who was playing around and the joy that this little one brought into the eyes of the seniors was worth a million. Some tried to play with him, some tried to carry him, their eyes always watching his every move.We sang songs from mid 50s and 60s and some songs brought back memories of times spent with their better halves.

There was a writing by a Sikh Saint that summarized the entire experience. It was written very beautifully about how selfish children have become that we leave our parents all alone in their sickness and old age, and think twice about changing his/her bed pan when the same parent changed our wet diaper (innumerable times), and never even thought about leaving our side in sickness or health.

Many of us, I agree, may be genuinely helpless with regards to taking care of parents. But for those who have a way, please don't hesitate to be the game changer. Remember that we have grown up in a culture where grandparents used to live with us, so why can't we make "space" for our own parents in our lives? Maybe it would be a very good opportunity to teach our kids the values of humanity (love, respect for elders); family traditions and the art of patience that many of our new age children lack.

I am sure parents too love their independence as they can do what they want, when they want and don't want to burden us with more responsibility.However, when they can't fend for themselves or they are just too lonely, a simple gesture that our homes and hearts are always open when they need us is enough to make their day. Having them living with us in our homes or visiting them often if they are staying nearby (next door, same colony, same city) gives them the assurance that they are not alone, and can count on us.

There is a reason parents are called dependents, and that is because they are no different from children. They yearn for the same unconditional love and trust that you give your kids assuring them that you are there for them no matter what happens.

I hope I was able to convince you that you will think twice or even thrice before you make a decision to have your parents live alone in a retirement home.... 

Moving back to India - Building Immunity

One of my favorite topics that I like to talk about is the things, experiences I have gained and lost by moving back to India. Not that I want to convince many of my NRI friends out there to move back, or to reconfirm to our own family and friends that I am fine. It is also not to emphasize how foolish or brilliant I was.  This is a sincere effort to pen down my thoughts on this topic so it serves as a memoir especially to my kids when they grow up.

The day the baby is born, it starts building its immunity and mother's milk is key ingredient that keeps it healthy. But the environment the baby lives also matters quite a bit and this is what I want to write about and how I built my immunity since I moved back.

I have allergic bronchitis/asthma since my childhood. All my friends and family reading this blog will remember how I was identified as the girl in the scarf with a Vicks Inhaler, how many times I have been bed ridden with chest congestion and Asthma attack.

My mom was the pillar of strength through out my struggles with Allergies and Asthma as a doted nurse she would bring me back to the world. She even now has the seventh sense to detect my discomfort, may it be a sniffle, or a full blown attack, just by talking on the phone from the other side of the continent! From the age of 4 to the age of 21, my mother has relentlessly pursued doctors for a cure and had me try medicines from variety of disciplines, may it be Allopathy, Homeopathy, Unani, Ayurveda, you name it.. and for 3 years have even swallowed the famous "fish" that cures Asthma in Hyderabad.

At last in my last year of BS, I put an end to mom's quest for cure and settled to the fact that Asthma is NOT a Disease but a Disorder and I have to live with it by preventing the symptoms. I survived my 6 month internship in a village in India during my last semester of college with inhalers (Allopathy) and no mom beside me. This triumph was a stepping stone for me to prove to my mom that I can survive the storm abroad and live along away from mom's care.

The very first day in Kansas State, US in the month of January, I found myself right in the middle of a snow storm.  Being a protected child where one rainfall and my mom would ask me to wear a sweater and scarf, I terribly missed her on my first day at Kansas. All I thought about is what made me come to this god forsaken place?

Eventually,  with loads of exposure to the inevitable snow that is part of mid west life, I developed immunity to snow, cold weather, freezing rain and temperatures of minus 20. My tolerance increased with every move of mine from Kansas to Madison and to Minneapolis, which I say is the snow capital of US.  In Madison, WI, I was coming back from my lab in the evening and my eyelashes wouldn't open as they had frozen shut. I had to rub my palm and place them on my eyes to open them.  There are innumerable days I have shoved the snow, piles of them, even when I was 7 months pregnant !! Although I also had lots of fun with snow, such as sledding, skiing, making snow man and just throwing snow balls, I really don't miss at all is the snow! This immunity to cold weather is also reflected in that I don't wear scarfs or sweaters during rainy season. Maybe a light sweater or jacket in winter, that too when I drive a scooter. 

I have had terrible allergies to dust mites, pollen, cat dander and dog hair. When we bought Adi, our pet German Shepherd that sheds a lot of hair, everyone close to me were concerned about my allergies except my hubby. He thought it will build my immunity! It surely seemed to work because when I did my allergy test in Madison (no dog days), I had a huge reaction to dog hair and when I redid the test with 10 times the allergen in Minneapolis and Portland, (dog days), I had none! It is amazing what our body is capable of adapting to.

Well, with regards to dust, I did not have that much luck. Although US was way less polluted, more open spaces and fresh air. I used to take all kinds of medicines to keep it at bay, Flonase, zyrtec, Claritin, Rhinocort are just a few to name. We bought houses that had no carpet (wooden floors). It was also best for cleaning dog hair.  I have couple of photographs taken by my roommates in Kansas and Madison, where I am lying on the bed with a red nose and tissue paper all around me. I however had very few mild asthma attacks in US that were abated with inhalers unlike the days in India where I was bedridden and had to suffer quite a bit.

So, when I decided to move back, many close to me had their concerns about my health and how I will survive in a dusty, polluted country such as India. It is true, I was very apprehensive and concerned, however was very reassuring to my mom that everything will be fine! The first thing I did was consult an allergist and starting taking 1 pill a day to abate my allergies. I hated taking a pill everyday and would experiment to see what happens if I did not. And within a day of no pill, I would get allergies, sniffles, and my whole day would be ruined.

After a whole year of this pill and a vertigo episode this March, I consulted another doctor who prescribed me a nasal spray that I took for 10 days diligently, and then slowly tried to wean it down to once a day (one puff) instead of 2 puffs, twice a day! Well, there was a week where I had misplaced the nasal spray and did not use it. The blankets in AC coaches of Indian Railways are a dirty sink of dust mites. Previously, I couldn't tolerate them and my doctor had asked me to travel only in Non AC, sleeper coach to avoid getting an asthma attack. In a recent trip to Gujarat, I did get a sniffle and immediately took a puff of the nasal spray as prevention, and have had no need to continue.

I really don't know if it is a combination of my dog passing away (no hair in the house), or the onset of Summer, I have had no episodes of allergy for the past two months and am on a no-pill/spray diet:)  I strongly believe that throwing myself in an unprotected fashion to allergens is what has saved me.

Of my daughters, Sindhu is more allergic than Kavya and I hope she too is building necessary immunity in India. Both Sridhar and I believe in our kids experiencing India as is. We prefer to let them drink local water at hotels, restaurants, make them walk barefoot wherever necessary, share the enjoyment of riding dusty and crowded trains, buses where you interact not only with the dirt but also get to see local people brave it all, actually in a way building immunity. Lord Krishna used to eat mud and when Yashoda asked him to open his mouth, she saw the entire milky way in his mouth. Gandhiji wrote about mud therapy and how it helps with stomach ache and dysentery. Walking on bare foot is good for health.

Mothers of new age, always carry a disinfectant with them and clean their kids hands, feed them only bottled water and protect them so much from the waggeries of environment. My advise to you moms is to do exactly the opposite.  Let kids play with dirt as this will allow them to enter the world of endless immunity.

Three Cheers to healthy living.