Dancing Queen, Drama Queen!

'I hate Bharatanatyam'!

Shriya has to say it every week and before every class. And as unreal as it sounds, it does not perturb me one bit. I just calmly tell her that she does not have to dance if she does not want to and walk away. Within minutes, she's apologizing and begging me profusely to give her a lesson.

I completely understand and empathize with Shriya. I felt the exact same way about dance at that age. I guess it has something to do with the mother also being the dance tutor. My mom taught me and I'm teaching Shriya. I loved that tons of kids came to my mother to learn the art. Gave me easy access to friends and I got to play with them all after lessons. But, I also hated how professional she was about not letting them play till she had finished the class.

Me being a part of those classes never arose as I had proclaimed early on that I was not interested. I was only too happy when my mother declared that she would never force me to dance.

I patiently waited for my friends to finish their lessons and also watched them advance as dancers and some even going on to perform on stage. And at the ripe age of eight, I decided to give it a shot. And that was the beginning of the end of my attitude towards dance. Once I got into it, I couldn't get out. Ever.

Shriya once asked me if she had to learn dance because her mother and grandmother taught and performed it. I told her she absolutely did not have to but she did have the responsibility of giving it a try as it could be steeped in her DNA. The logic worked and she began.

And ever since she started, I've caught her practicing her 'adavus' (basic foundation steps)in the pool, on the soft white beach sands, in the bath tub! She mumbles theory from the ' Natyashastra' (guide book) as she's completeing her homework. Many a time, I've found her neatly folding her legs and walking in a certain (Tisram) rythmic beat to and from the loo.

I can confidently say that Shriya is way better at her adavus than I was at her age. She instinctively knows when to correct her posture. She insists that I videotape her lessons so she can check on her 'araimandi' (half squat). Potential, she definitely has.

The drama queen that she is, yesterday, she began another one of her ' I hate...'. I asked her why she went through the same old routine before every class. She was quiet for a while and then simply said 'my body does not want to dance. But my genes want to'. :-)

Magical mornings

I've been accompanying Vaibhav to school every morning. The school bus comes at an unearthly hour and we decided it would be easier to simply take the public bus that stopped nearly in front of his school. What we didn't think of was the 'waking up' bit each and every morning.

Vaibhav is at an age when he requires no help getting ready for school and our housekeeper is always willing to drop him off in the mornings. So, I don't really have to be up everyday before daybreak.I could lounge in bed or even enjoy an uninterrupted hour of yoga if I chose to.But I want to be up. I so badly want to make the 20 minute bus ride with him.

As we are both still sleepy eyed, we don't say much. Once in the bus, comfortably seated, Vaibhav will lay his head on my lap while I run my fingers through his hair.For all his 'big boy' talk, he is nothing but a mere vulnerable baby then. He will suddenly spring up and educate me on the latest cricket scores of some vague game happening in some remote English county. Idle chitchat,lots of warm hugs and just some quiet time together before we get on with our respective days.

But yesterday, just as we got off the bus and started the short walk across the patch of grass field to his school, over 20 yellow butterflies took flight and flitted around us. It was like a carefully choreographed dance that was being orchestrated just for our benefit. We both stood transfixed, enjoying the special show together.

It was magical. But then, I realized that every morning is with my little boy. He'll soon want to make the trip on his own or with his friends. He'll probably be conscious about any physical contact with his mother in public. And I'm sure he'll figure out that all those cricket statistics don't make much sense to me.

So, if it means I have to be up every single day of the school year at dawn to be able to relish these magical mornings, then I'm so happy do it. In any case, can't think of a better way to begin my day.

A new kind of religious...

Vaibhav and Shriya have resumed their classical music lessons. Now, these classes happen to be every Saturday evening and is very conveniently located next to all the dosa joints and one of the oldest and most beautiful temples in Little India.

The Dad and I park the car at the temple, have our weekend dose of filter coffee and masala dosa, shop for mangoes flown in from India and then pick up the kids. Once we get the kids we feel obliged to step into the temple to pop in a hello to the Lord. Afterall, our car was parked in His official premises.

What started off as something so unplanned and casual has now become quite a ritual.The kids, who previously had to be dragged into a temple now assume that it is next on the agenda after their class.Saturday evenings, the Perumal temple is as festive as it can get. The place is teeming with devotees- some in beach shorts and tank tops and others in bright hued sarees and pristine veshtis. Luckily, as it is a sprawling area with an open, outdoor design, it can accommodate everybody comfortably.

Organized chaos at its best. There is a long queue snaking around the temple waiting for the traditional and I must very delicious 'prasadam' of Puliogare, thayir sadam, sundal and kesari.People are lighting the 'ellu vilaku' in one corner while in another, a group of elderly women fervently sing bhajans if not reciting the Vishnu Sahasarnamam.

At every sannithi, Vaibhav and Shriya check with me on the right set of shlokas they should recite for maximum benefit. We share and compare stories of Andal and Meerabhai as we circle the tulsi leaf plant. Vaibhav occasionally breaks a coconut (and is very glad that he is given the honor) and Shriya lights a lamp (after some quiet mischief with the oil dispenser).

This is exactly what we missed in Finland. Tastes, colours,smells and rituals that are so authentically Indian. However much we tried to replicate it all in our Helsinki home, we still lacked the real thing. By just observing, listening and being here, the kids are learning tons about who they are and where they really come from.

Religious or not, we just feel comforted being at the temple. As we soak in the atmosphere and breathe in the aromatic air that is a tantalizing blend of tulsi and camphor, we know that as we make these trips every week, we are also creating unspoken memories for the kids. No matter which part of the world they will live in the future, a faint smell of incense or the strained tunes of a familiar shloka will trigger the memories. And hopefully with each trigger, they will be transported to those idyllic Saturday evenings that we spent together at the temple.

Summer Hols

It was just a mere month compared to the two and a half that they were used to. But what a month it has been! It was everything a summer break should be. Lazy, fun and utterly routineless.

Vaibhav has a great gang in the neighbourhood. British, Australian and Chinese boys who are all as crazy as he is about sports. They organized tennis games between themselves,requested one of the dads to escort them to play two external cricket matches and raced each other in the condo pool. Sweaty, happy, 10 year olds were running in and out of our home every afternoon, stopping only for a snack or drink.

Shriya, on the other hand had several playdates and sleepovers with her school friends. I'd find the girls involved in elaborate art projects (one of which turned out to be a major learning lesson that ended in a lot of mopping and washing!)or endless rounds of Monopoly.

We spent the last week in pristine Langkawi.Leisurely meals, mid-morning naps (for the Dad), hours in the beach and more in the hotel pool were only interspersed with movies and more board games.

In between all the fun, the kids squeezed in Math and Tamil. The former because they enjoy it and the latter because they had promised.

To me, the big highs were running alongside the torquoise beaches, helping Vaibhav fly his first kite;sharing the big moment with Shriya when she magically overcame her fear of the deep end and started swimming confident laps; my new love for table tennis thanks to the many games I got to play with Vaibhav;Shriya's accelerated interest and improvement in Bharatanatyam which I taught her every other day.

A summer truly well spent!