A note from my son..for his sister---

he one rupee that made me what i am.. and gave me what i have..

by Saahil Tyagi on Wednesday, 08 June 2011 at 05:44

Its amazing how every small incident, every small thought, every small memory becomes a small part of your personality.. of who you are.. of what you do.. One of which i remembered today.

I must have been 10... i went to a boys convent St. Mary's in Meerut. My Sister Aanchal went to a girl's Convent Sophia, not very far from my school. Both of us were very different as children. She is 4 and a half years elder to me and she had probably read more books then, than i have till date. I always looked up to her. Always somehow thought she could solve any problem. We fought a lot.. but i still felt this security when she was around and we were at some friends birthday party.

So in school...

I used to wait all day for 'chutti' because of the 'thela wala's outside' who i still think sold the most amazing things. 'laal wala churan, imli ki chatni, local made ice candy, a local made chewing gum (that the guy would turn into any shape you wanted like a peacock and perch it on a stick), a plastic pipe (with frozen orange and cola liquid inside that you were supposed to melt with your tongue and drink), masale wali mooli with imli ki chatni on top, chuski, chatmola, boiled bhutta, orange soda (that i loved) and i can go on forever. I used to go home in an auto rikshaw, the auto wale bhaiya's name was 'Mujjan' so sometimes after 'chutti' when i had money, i had 10 min to buy something before 'mujjan bhaiya' would go crazy. So this one day i so correctly remember, i had one rupee to spend after 'chutti' which could actually buy me any one of most of the things i listed. i remember it was really hot and i wanted to buy the plastic pipe (with frozen orange liquid) also the orange soda and the oraaaange bars (as the guy advertised for it). but i felt i should buy the imli ki chatni (which came in a transparent plastic packing) not because i wanted to eat it that much.. but because i wanted to put it in a katori when i reached home and lay next to Aanchal with it when she read her book, because she loved having something of that sort while reading. And even though then i didn't think about it this way then, but i wanted to spend time with her 'with a common interest' which was going to be the imli ki chatni that day. And it automatically made both of us SO Happy..

And like they say.. a flutter of a butterflies somewhere may cause a tornado elsewhere... I believe that the flutter of butterflies everywhere causes fairweather at another everywhere, at another time. That day 'maybe' unknowingly i learnt to invest all my love into someone i would want close to me for life. Someone i look up to.. someone my heart feels secure with.. someone i love not more than everyone else.. but as much as a few others. :) :)

P.S.: Aanchal.. I Love you SOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO Much..

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I awoke to a fresh new morn, reached for my netbook..to catch up on the world and its machinations through the night, as I slept. Suddenly chanced upon this note- posted on facebook by my son. In itself, you would think- pretty sweet, nice sentiments... but its a whole lot more than that for us. Saahil- the youngest in the family, is an out and out dyslexic. In the age he grew up, unfortunately, neither his teachers, nor society and not even us, his parents- were all that aware of the complexities of the condition! He grew up with his personal hell- unable to phrase his torment, at not being able to "keep up" with his fellow-students. The demands of education, the expectations of his teachers, peers and most importantly, US- his parents-- took its toll on his tender mind right from age 6 onwards. Inability to comprehend printed words (which, as he explained years later- seemed to dance before his eyes and made him dizzy to catch and hold in place long enough to read), altered appreciation of colours, and a different perception of all things as compared to the "normal"-- must have made his childhood pretty confusing and frustrating.....inspite of all the love that abounded in plenty in our home.

His brilliant mind made him a scintillating talker, he would discuss concepts far ahead of his age..make up new words all the time.. It was "frigilator" for the stabilizer atop the fridge, "Goi" for that tar-filled wagon that carried molten tar used for laying roads.... his dad left the Air Force early while at the rank of Flight Lieutenant .. and he would explain that his father used to fly fighter planes and "left it" hence he was Flight Leftenent":-) The only awards he ever won at school were for story-telling!

I still remember the day, his dad and I went to watch the film "Taarey Zameen Par". That I think was a landmark for both of us. We held hands in the movie hall..and cried. Every bit of the torment so beautifully and sensitively picturized in the film..that the little dyslexic boy went through, danced before our eyes..and we could actually re-live Saahil's days in school and home. We could reach out and feel his torment. I think that day, something inside of me broke, and Saahil suddenly escalated in stature within my heart and soul as the most precious part of my life.

Aanchal and he had always been close. Things they shared, talked about, did- were completely theirs. We were not part of their little world. Aanchal was probably his only cushion against the cruel world:-) All the slaps and verbal battering that his childhood took, all the expectatins and hopes of the parents he loved so much.. made him attain strange little mannerisms- nervous tics of all kinds, which further magnified our worries.

Reading? Naah! That was not for our lame fledgling. Aanchal was the avid reader. The only book we ever managed to make him read was Huckleberry Finn! Which he boasted about for years to come:-) Writing? Sigh! I have preserved some of his classic works of literary ventures in an album. They are unbelievably retarded:-))) His studying before exams would involve my reading out lesson by lesson, question by question, answer by answer..through the days and nights.. the reading interrupted by many bonks on the tiny head as it nodded off to sleep:-)

All our worries of what he would do, how would he pass the boards, what career would he fit into....led our steps to a brilliant career counselor in Delhi- Ms. Pervin Malhotra. She told us not to attempt any formal education for him. His gift lay in articulation, social networking..in short-'the gift of the gab". Hence the hospitality industry would be his forte.


Today- when we see him as a successful, dynamic, happy young executive at a premier 5 Star Hotel in Mumbai, we are so happy and proud! 


So you see- why this note of his means so much to all of us?? Our little lame fledgling had gotten his wings. And can fly on his own. He can read now. And write. And express his feelings so touchingly:-) 


This one's for you, my son. I love you sooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooo much!!


With apologies for any rude remarks in this note:-))) 


Mom