The legitimacy of an ambition

What is ambition? Why do many of us bombard young minds with the highly improbable question: What do you want to be when you grow up? Are we (read slightly older individuals than the kids) trying to make idle conversation with the young one who happen to be either a friend's son/daughter, a niece or a nephew. I have seen it many times and cringe at that question. Some smart kid who has been fed well by the parents, repeats like a parakeet,

I want to become a doctor, 

I want to become a scientist, 

I want to become an Engineer,

I want to become a  . . a  . . . a (the uncle/aunty/akka/anna/cousin who asks the question is bored and the poor kid is dismissed).

Some parents are quite happy to answer the question: I always wanted to be a doctor but somehow it didn't happen and so I am determined to make my son/daughter a doctor.

What makes an ambition? Does everyone need to have an ambition? How do we determine what we will become after say, ten years. Now wait, don't get me wrong. I am not saying that one should not have any motivation for the future, but thinking of a profession when one is three or four seems ridiculous. Don't we all change from time to time? How can a young kid dream of something of which he/she does not even know. Does the child know that being a doctor involves blood, extreme patience, kindness and long working hours or the glowing Engineer has to struggle. Well, how can ambitions be formed without having an inkling of what the profession is.

I remember as a kid I was proud to say I want to become a doctor and when I saw everyone's smiles and nods, I was quite sure that I had said something which is absolutely wonderful. Well, at this given moment, I want to run a restaurant and cook delicious food, in spite of being a teacher!!

Growing up with an ambition actually restricts an individual immensely. One is closed to the other probable possibilities that would have actually suited the individual best. If not for ambition, there would be no books and sites which scream: Turn what you like doing best into your profession. The advise comes at a point when one is too lazy to switch over into something new.

Well, what if a child says, My ambition is to be.

Are you doing something which you like or are you caught in the profession of your childhood ambition but regretting it.

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Gibson, Indonesia and Billy Kwan

Last evening, after tea, amidst intermittent power-cuts, I saw the 1982 film, The Year of Living Dangerously. First, I hadn't seen any old films of Mel Gibson and was completely mesmerised by his appearance. He is definitely handsome! Not only handsome but unidentifiable from the Gibson I know of in Braveheart. Though I felt that the real hero of the film was the dwarf, Billy Kwan, Gibson's local photographer contact in Jakarta, Indonesia, I couldn' stop drooling at Gibson. And Sigourney Weaver as a young and beautiful woman is quite different from Grace Augustine in the 2009 film, Avatar.

Set in poverty-stricken Jakarta, the film raises many issues that any thinking individual would encounter while looking at people who live in slums and despair. The Western arrogance and superiority toward third world countries; prostitution to escape hunger; clash between the left and the right -- are some of the issues that the director Peter Weir had brilliantly handled. Billy is a friend and photographer who accompanies Gibson on his assignments, is a philosophical and intelligent character. His diction, observations and comments are something that make the film a wholesome one. Billy comes across as a person who identifies the human weakenesses and strengths which help him analyse a person and thus enables the viewer to see the character as well.

The story, for most part, is shown through the eyes of Billy. And when Billy dies nearing the final part of the film, I couldn't help shedding tears. I wondered what moved me to tears: Was it Billy himself or the principles that he stood for or the betrayal that he faced from his beloved leader, Sukarno or the brutal way in which he was murdered. Maybe everything.

It was indeed wonderful to watch the younger Mel Gibson and the actress, Linda Hunt as Billy Kwan. Watch this film if you haven't still and you will find yourself thinking about Billy Kwan long after the film is over.

So, have you seen this 1982 Gibson starrer? How do you think the third world is portrayed in Hollywood? 

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Laying aside the mantle of a 'superwoman'

When the word 'super' is prefixed to any word, the word assumes a greater importance. For example, the word, 'woman' is nothing special but the word, 'superwoman' makes a great deal of difference. Doesn't it? Even words like 'superspeciality,' 'supermom' and the like take on a completely different meaning. And, if one could stress that 'super' in 'superwoman,' nothing like that!

Well, two days ago, I was quite tired of my role as a 'superwoman' that I decided to take a break. Ask me how? I am now the proud mistress of a domestic help. I give instructions and she carefully follows them. I cannot tell you how empowered I feel by having someone to do my work. To hell with the superwoman, I said and employed a help. So the title of 'superwoman' is at rest.

A few months ago, I was frantically searching for someone who could help me out with the quotidian chores of our home. I could not find any. Our neighbours, who are very kind and considerate suggested that doing house-work would actually help me to work out a little. A wonderful suggestion. And, in any case I had to lose weight so why not try two mangoes with one stone: housework done and weight gone. Hence, grudgingly I became a superwoman!!! I worked at home and also outside home. I must confess that I enjoyed the attention and warm smiles of acknowledgement when people asked me: Do you have someone to help you at home? And when I replied, 'No,' I could sense people thinking, "Wow! She does not look like the working types. She wears lispstick and dresses up well. She actually washes dishes and clothes at home!!!?!?!?" I was a superwoman multitasking various jobs and actually performing them well.

I didn't much enjoy being a superwoman

Ah, I don't need to work out by washing, cleaning and moping. I enjoy cooking and will be happy to do only that. The role of a 'superwoman' lost its charm on me. I employed a lovely woman to assist me and now the title is gone, the work is gone and I am just a woman who enjoys her work, loves to cook (experiment as well) and give instructions to M (the woman who helps me).

Sometimes being a 'normal' woman is what matters. The prefix 'super' is not sought by me to validate my status quo.

Well, are you a superwoman at work or just a woman who enjoys her cuppa tea and idleness. If you are a man, what does 'superwoman' mean to you?

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Hollywood's obsession with bachelor teachers' films

Out of the many teacher films that I have seen thus far, nine out of ten are about bachelor teachers who are always inspiring and encouraging teachers. I overlooked this pattern until I saw Cameron Diaz' Bad Teacher and realised that this movie had a woman teacher but she was afterall a bad teacher. The question that kept popping in my mind was: Why can't a teacher be a happily married woman or for that matter even a happily married man. While writing this, I have in mind the film, Freedom Writers where for a change, the teacher was a woman but she also undergoes a divorce because her husband could not handle the pressures that his wife carried as a teacher. Well, then the only solution that saves relationship problems is to be a bachelor teacher.

The archetype of the bachelor teacher has not found places only in films, even in many schools and Universities, we find such teachers. The teachers are always there for the students - solving problems, playing basket-ball, taking students to visit museums and other stuff. The teacher has nil personal life and is always there to give inspirational and motivating speeches to the students. This raises many questions for me: Can only a teacher with no strings attached (read family, relationship, etc.) be a 'good' teacher. Does a teacher have no right to a personal life? If at all a teacher (Hillary Swank in Freedom Writers) is happily married at the time of her employment, her marriage falls apart as her husband possesses a fragile ego. Why can't the audience digest a happily married woman teacher. Let me try to answer that question. A bachelor teacher by devoting all his time for the students sets a standard of 'being there' always for the students. But a female teacher by virtue of her being married cannot spend as much time as she has to cook, clean and wash for the family. She cannot do what the bachelor teacher does.

Hollywood, by making films which exalts the bachelor teacher tradition, sets a certain standard for teachers of both sexes. Once, I remember, after seeing the 2000 Kevin Spacey starring film, Pay it Forward, one student asked me, "Susie why don't you do things like him?" I was horrified. I was at a loss for words as I couldn't explain to him that in a film anything is possible. I was also horrifed because in spite of taking a lot of effort for the students of that particular class to which the boy belonged, I was faced with a lame question like that.

Meryl Streep's Music of the Heart is another delightful film but then she is a single woman who begins to teach music to rebuild her life. What is the equation between being single and being a teacher. Maybe it's TIME and more TIME for the students.

 So, what's your opinion of a 'good' teacher or a bachelor teacher.

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Writing a love letter to me

Many times I find myself saying to myself things such as, "Come on don't feel low, things are going to be alright." Talking to myself has somehow become the usual for me. And, come to think of it, many of us find succor and comfort with ourselves. Extending that idea, I thought I would write a love letter to myself. So, here it goes:

My Dearest Susan:

It feels quite strange to be writing a letter to you. What will I say to you? You know almost everything about me. You know my patterns, routines, likes and dislikes but still I find there are some minute things that you miss in the hurried pace of reflections. Isn't it strange that reflections have become hurried these days? Well, sometimes I think you should slow down. You romanticise slowing down but I find that you hurry through everything. So much so, you even think about slowing down while you are actually hurrying. But why are you hurrying? Why so much impatience? You cannot try to fast forward everything. Please do tarry awhile.

I know that there are many thoughts that are niggling your mind but you still try to be optimistic. You are worried about many things. I'm glad that your optimism always keeps you going. Susan, never let that tiny hope die. Yesterday you were quite perturbed and I could sense that. You wouldn't tell anyone about your thoughts and you were mechanically going through the various chores of the house. This brings me to another point: work. Sometimes work enables the sorrow of the heart to be forgotten, so keep working. Have you noticed that when you sit in the same place and keep wallowing in your pain, the pain grows manifold? So, keep going.

Susan, I thought I was writing a love letter but what is this I'm writing. You know about all these things I'm talking, then why am I writing all these to you. Well, it's the flow of thoughts, I guess. When someone is in love with someone, feelings of care, nurture and thoughtfulness are bound to make an appearance.

Sometimes I see you jealous - mild forms of jealousy creep up to your bosom especially when it comes to your profession. You wonder about substandard people who have got the jobs of their dreams. You loathe them. You can't help but sneer at them. Don't do that. Just leave them alone. Your time will come. Again, let me say, don't hurry. Let life take its pace.

Among the many things that cloud your mind, blogging is also one. You are wondering about the 1st of March and how things will turn out to be. Well, you shouldn't be worrying about all that. Everything will go on. Sometimes you question the passive process of letting be. Remember that it is not a passive process. Just because you are not active (read fretting and fuming), you cannot think you are passive. Just as white cannot be the opposite of black, not hurrying does not mean that one is passive.

Susan, never stop smiling and loving. These two will always sustain and refresh you. Remember, no matter what, I will always love you.

Sealed with love and kisses,
Susan

P. S: If you liked this idea, you could attempt one in your blog as well.

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When the thought stops midway

Sometimes it so happens that a very interesting thought starts off in my mind and suddenly without any caution, the thought just goes away. But where does it go? And somehow it so happens that I forget about that thought and after a few days when I'm at the middle of something else the whole thole process of the earlier day flashes my mind. The thought seems out of context but familiar and so I leave my other thoughts and try to continue the 'out-of-context' thought. But the thought does not fit and does not continue.

What do I do with that stray thought? Flirting with that thought gives pleasure but then it is definitely out of context. But that it had a context before and not now seems puzzling to me. Like that there are many instances which I can quote. An important thought leaves me and then comes back and forces me to pay attention. Has this happened to you? Have your missing thought come back when you least expected them to come?

Now, what do I do to the thoughts that were there when the stray thought came? Should the existing thoughts be put aside for some time? Impossible.

Sometimes I think that if a thought stops midway, it is best to let it go. If thoughts are not menat for you at that precise time, it is not meant for you. But then why does it come back? The subconscious plays the devil's advocate and turns against you. It tries to kindle and coerce you into believing that nothing completely leaves you.

On some days I wonder whether it is me controlling my thoughts or vice-versa? So, how do your thoughts play truant with you?

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