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Showing posts from April, 2018

The Years They Will Remember

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Akhil and Sahana with thatha. Akhil is in sixth grade. Sahana is in fourth grade. My own fourth grade feels like a blur, but I remember sixth grade quite well. Mrs. Vijayalakshmi was our class teacher. She was outstanding at teaching English. At BP Indian, grammar, punctuation, and the structure of a composition mattered. Some of my classmates had a natural flair for writing, and I loved reading how they put their thoughts on paper. I came third in class that year and received a merit prize. I still remember the books: Five Have a Wonderful Time by Enid Blyton and Grandmother’s Tale by R. K. Narayan. I still have my copy of Grandmother’s Tale . Inside is the school’s prize label: third rank, Class VI D, 1992–93, awarded to Subbarathinam—the name I went by then. My sixth-grade merit prize. I still have the book. ...

Visualizing the moment

The days fly by so fast these days that it's so hard to keep track of them.  Every other day is more or less the same, and the differentiating factors are governed usually by the daily monotonies.  "Oh, it's a Tuesday.  I have to take my son to the swimming class." Every day has a set routine.  Monday to Friday is fast, and the weekends go by faster.  Our days are dictated by our kids.  One of them is shouting and the other is running around.  Or, it's both shouting and both running.  Let's make it even better.  It's the four of us shouting and running around.   My wife and I would literally be at our wits end.  It's not easy managing two kids.    Friday was a slow day.  Mom was late from work.  Dad was busy playing with the kids in the backyard.  After finishing our dinner, we were just hanging around.  I was sitting on the couch with my laptop.  Akhil came and sat next to me.   "Appa...