100 Rays Of Son - 29

Do You Want Me To Be Naughty?

My mom would say I was very troublesome child even on the day of my birth. I was breech baby delivered at home, and she would narrate how horrible her condition was. In fact I came into the world one leg first which looks like split position to me. After birth I would cry all the time, through the night and through the day very loudly. My mom would shift me to one side of the house and when neighbours on that side complained, to the other side. As a young child, I was spoilt a bit due to the club foot and she says that made me more demanding, naughty, loud, nagging and so on…  many more such labels were attached to me, which I agree to some extent. It was much later in my life that I turned out be what I am today. Even from the age of 6/7 I would hear my mom say, “Someday you will have a naughty child like you to take care of and you will realize what I have been through”. I heard these words through my childhood, through my teen years and also during my pregnancy. My mom would smile and say, “Now you will get to know how tough it is being a mom, especially to a naughty child. I can’t wait to see you get a bit of what you have given me”. Off course she never meant it in a way to hurt me, but it was her joke.

I was ready for troublesome child and had read quite few books to handle few tantrums effectively to prove to my mom how to handle such issues without hurting the child. Yeah….. I carried few bad memories from my childhood as well, especially regarding my grandmother and the way she treated me. We both had our own agendas with the child who was not born yet.

Rayyan came, he saw, he conquered our agendas and threw it out never to be found. All those books I read turned out to be waste because there were no tantrums. He got toilet trained very easily. Would sleep through the night and barely cried. My mom would usually lament, how can God do this? How could someone who has tormented her mom, get a calm and peaceful child like this? One of our neighbours who had shifted to the house temporarily for three months realized we had baby in our home only after 2 months. She was gaga over Rayyan and kept telling me, how blessed I was to have a peaceful child who seldom bothered me. That triggered my mom’s memory and she started narrating to the lady about my childhood and how mean I was to her.

My mom was only the first one to lament about my luck. Soon there were many moms who would compare their own children to Rayyan and say how lucky I was. They never gave credit to me in any way. I had meditated peacefully for hours, I had eaten very bland food throughout my pregnancy, I did yoga and always kept my mental balance intact. Even after his birth, I would let him alone when he wanted to and pick him when he indicated it. A slight creaking of the cradle would wake me up and I was awake before he was every time. But those women and few men as well gave all the credit to Rayyan.

As a baby it was alright, but as he grew up and the same drama continued, I would feel bad for their children who watched their moms tell tales of their naughtiness exactly like my mom did. I would empathize with them more than their moms because I experienced what these children were going through but not what their moms went through. Slowly I started defending them. As days went by I started saying that they had every right to behave like children and what they branded naughty was just normal behavior of a child. In few more years, I started saying, “I don’t know what your problem is, I love naughty children and I wish my Rayyan would be naughty like your boy/girl”.

One day Rayyan was jumping up on the chairs, climbing on table, trying to misplace things and was behaving very odd. I was relaxing on a Sunday and wondered what was going on…. It was not Rayyan at all who was in front of me. Finally he tore a page from his book and looked expectantly at me. I was not sure what was going on, but did not interrupt him because I am usually lazy on a Sunday and I trusted Rayyan to be always right. Finally, Rayyan walked up to me and asked me, “Are you happy?” I am completely confused and ask, “Happy about what?” and the innocent child answers, “I was being naughty now as you always say you want me to be. I tried few things those moms usually complain about and you say you like it when children do that…………” the rest of the words were lost for me though Rayyan chattered away. I had completely forgotten my own child in defending the hurt child in me and other children who looked hurt. Now the challenge in front of me was something I hadn’t read in all those books. Should I tell me that his behavior did not please me and put all the effort he put into it to waste? Should I correct him and tell him he had absolutely no problem and those children who were being naughty were bad so that he will be under pressure behave always? What should I say.. what what what… the questions rang in my head. He stood there expecting an answer. I calmed down and maybe I did the best in that sticky situation. “Beta, you are the best. I am so lucky to have you. Don’t you hear your naani say that so often? But I was not like you. I was a naughty child and misbehaved very often. When people complained about me, I felt hurt. So I was trying to protect those children from getting hurt. Imagine how they feel when their moms say they are bad and don’t want them. Even I love calm and peaceful children like you, but not everyone can be like you. So, I was only trying to make those children happy. I am happy the way you are and I don’t mind if you want to be naughty. I am OK with anything as long as you are happy”. It took me nearly 30 minutes to put this message across to a small child, but I think I did a good job finally. I also mentioned all the good habits he had like putting away his shoes, wiping his feet, washing hands before eating, being very careful and many other things which I appreciated. I brought up all the things I could recall about him and how proud I felt about that. Finally Rayyan went back to playing with his lego toys and being who he really was. I couldn’t help laughing finally at how weird he was when he was trying to be naughty. It was more funny than me trying to be a submissive, obedient wife.

Years passed and he found a friend who was notorious for his behavior. His mother would always complain to me about her son. One day I told her, “I would enjoy my time with him and stand by him if he was my son”. Rayyan was 11 then and he again asked me, “Maa do you want me to change and be more naughty like ________. Am I too boring?”

 Did I repeat that mistake once again after promising I would never do it? I explained him once again how difficult it is to handle naughty children, the ordeals their moms face, the trouble they get into etc and no one wants that in their life. Anyone would go for a Rayyan as child happily. But, if at all those children could have a mom who could handle their issues, the person is me. Do you agree?” Fortunately Rayyan nodded in affirmative which encouraged me to continue. “I don’t think I can have a better child than you, but I feel the other children can have a better mom. That is the reason I mentioned it”. Again I went on to narrate few incidents which the moms messed up for their children and how I could have handled it better. Again it was long discussion I had with Rayyan.

I still defend children who are naughty, but I never repeated my past mistakes again. All children have this yearning to be appreciated by their parents, especially their moms. It is not easy to be a mom because everything we do leaves an impact on the child’s life forever. My mom was wrong. She was not under pressure anytime bringing up me, but I was always when bringing up Rayyan. When your child is perfectly good, you struggle to do justice. Since most of the time he left the decision making to me, I had to struggle to make right choices for him. My mom on the other hand could always blame me for whatever went wrong. I never got that opportunity. My mom had a luxury of earning pity from everyone around for dealing with a child like me, where as in my case the role is reversed. I lived so carelessly without giving a hoot to what someone would think of me, but now I am so conscious because of Rayyan presence in my life. I have started respecting him and try not to spoil my image in front of him. I know I wouldn’t exchange Rayyan for anyone in this world, but at the same time I would like him to be closer to humans like me so that the pressure on me would ease a bit. I wish my mom would have experienced this ……

 

 

100 Rays Of Son -28

The Lost Bag

Immediately, after my first cycle of chemotherapy, we traveled to Byndoor. With all the stress, I left my purse in the auto as I got down carrying Farheena. My husband flew into rage and started giving lectures which made very less sense. I was too tired due to surgery and chemo to defend myself, yet I tried to justify that since I got down carrying Farheena, and he was in charge of luggage, he should have taken care of it. That just worked as fuel as he removed his watch, banged it down and asked, "Do I remove my watch I keep it separately on auto? Same with the purse. You shouldn't have removed it from your shoulder at all"... He wasn't able to understand the pain of surgery, nor the effects of chemotherapy. It was so tough for me to manage Farheena in the first place. I had half mind to walk back home and not visit this place at all, but I think the insecurity of going through cancer had mellowed me into silence. All the while Rayyan was a mute spectator to all the drama and sat beside me, patting Farheena's head. 

Years passed and Rayyan was in Arena Animation. My brother-in-law threw a pizza party for us when my husband was back from Dubai on vacation. As four of us sat in the auto, Rayyan had to remove his back pack to fit in. As we got down from auto, Farheena panicked in the heavy traffic flow of Jayanagar. Rayyan calmed her down and took her to the footpath as I paid the bill. By the time he returned for his bag, the auto had left. We had version 2 of the same drama by my husband again. All my family tried to pacify him but he kept tormenting Rayyan. We couldn't even enjoy the party, because other than Rayyan everyone was troubled by his behaviour. Rayyan was very much worried about his bag because it had lot of things important to him. I was at loss how to shut up my husband because finally even the other customers started pitying Rayyan. 

Finally a guy walked up to us and said, "Such things happen so often. Learn to forgive and leave that boy alone. He had not said a single word against this barrage of words". We all felt embarrassed and looked in different directions. The waiter also threw in few comforting words to Rayyan. Finally, my husband shut his mouth.

Four days later I got a call from an unknown number. The person on the other end asked whether this is Rayyan Rizwan. I said I was his mom and asked what he wanted. The answer shocked me, "I am the auto driver you traveled with few days ago. Your son left his bag in my auto. I saw that when I went home and took it in. As I checked through it, there was a dairy milk chocolate that I gave to my daughter. But immediately I remembered your son and how lovingly he took care of his sister. I was tempted to keep it so I did not contact you, but I realised somehow I cannot take this. I found your number in his college ID. He tried helping his sister and ignored his bag which has lot of important documents and many other things. If I keep this, God will not forgive me. I will bring it today to your home. Kindly pay me something for the auto fare". I was taken aback. This was beyond my expectation. I thanked him heartily and assured to pay him some amount for his good deed. Late in the evening he returned the bag. He asked forgiveness for taking the chocolate, but I assured him that was completely OK as this meant a lot to us. I paid him more than the auto fare which he refused intially, but later accepted. I asked his name, but he refused to say anything because he said he did not do this for recognition and left saying, "My only wish is for my child to grow up to be like your son. He brings out the goodness hidden in people. Earlier if I found something on my auto, I never even thought of returning it, but I think I am changed now. Thank him on my behalf". 

As Rayyan checked through his bag, he found everything intact, other than the chocolate he had kept as a surprise for me. Rayyan was relieved and so happy to get his sunglasses gifted by Paula, Swiss knife, his wallet, and so many other things that were precious to him. 

100 Rays Of Son - 27

When Rayyan Healed Himself

One of my neighbours would complain that I children talk a lot when I am around. As Rayyan would narrate to me what he saw on the way to school, what he did there or what games they played, she would be irritated and ask me, “Why do you listen to all that nonsense? Not only Rayyan, but almost all children narrate inconsequential things to you and whenever I hear the chatter, I get a headache”.  I did not explain anything to her but I know the reason why I listen to children and why it is important to listen to them. I had learned my lesson.

I got to know about Art Therapy, long after I seen the live demo of it. Rayyan would love to draw and paint since he was two or may be a bit younger. I clearly remember him trying to draw a flower on his second birthday after the celebrations were over.

Rayyan was a pampered child until July 1995. Even though we had faced my dad’s and my sister’s cancer during the past two years he got his share of attention which was diverted from him only after we realized that Farheena may have lot of challenges in dealing with her life. My family was heartbroken and were at loss as to how to deal with this situation. All of sudden, we all were trying to find a solution for Farheena, while Rayyan though loved and cared for, got a bit lonely in this chaos. This was the time when Rayyan took refuge in paintings and drawings. He would spend time creating art work all alone, most often with watercolor. He looked so engrossed, that we seldom bothered him.

He continued his hobby during my diagnosis with cancer, my treatment, my sister’s death, Farheena’s continued therapy and so on. At times I would join him and create some paintings as well. Soon Farheena became a part of the group. She would continue scribbling until sleep overtook her.

 At times her art would wander over the floor and the walls as well. Unlike her, Rayyan was very neat and clean. He would always neatly put away the paints, pencils, paper and other stationary in a wooden box his grandma had given him and wash the palette/brushes and dry it as well before putting it away.

After my treatment, I started selling soft toys to retail shops and also to people I knew to meet my financial needs. I also had stalls put up in exhibitions through a women welfare society where our profits were split. Helping Hand was an organization that helped me sell them and gave my confidence a boost, especially Mr. Ali Khwaja.

Once there was a conference of some kind organized by cancer care people and Mrs. Usha Shinde invited me to put up a stall there. Unfortunately I have forgotten who organized the event because what followed became very important and remained etched strongly in my memory. Rayyan had a holiday and he had accompanied me to the event. There was a painting competition organized to showcase cancer awareness. Since Rayyan was always interested in drawing and painting, I encouraged him to participate in the competition. There was a young volunteer who took him to competition and she lovingly explained to him what it was about. She told him to draw something that would show what he felt about cancer. I was smiling within because he was too young to put something like this in art, so I wanted to interrupt and tell her not to ask him to do something so serious. By then a customer came by and I got lost in selling toys.

By the time I was free, the competition was over and Rayyan had handed over his painting to the young volunteer. I could see tears dripping down her cheeks and there were many others who looked very emotional. She gave Rayyan a big hug. Curious I walked up to the group and saw the painting in her hand. The page was divided diagonally into two parts. One part had a woman with tubes running into her body and a child on the floor with colours and paper looking scared. The expression on the child’s face looked heart wrenching though the art itself was simple. On the other half, there was a woman selling toys and child with paint and paper smiling. Not many will understand, neither will I ever be able to express my emotions of that moment in words. The painting moved almost everyone who were present and I could see many going for the tissues. Rayyan won a consolation prize (wall clock) for the art. It was treasured by my mom for years until it got lost in the chaos of her cancer diagnosis and treatment a decade later.

After the event was over, I came back home and wondered what the child must have been through during those days when we fought the roughest phase of our lives. I skimmed through his paintings and realized he had used it as Art Therapy to deal with his emotions. On the day I went for surgery, my chemotherapy or some other challenging event, the paintings would be in circular form and dark in colour. On the days he was happy with some positive happenings, they would be of nature with trees, flowers, butterflies etc.

From that day onwards, I made sure that I talk or most often listen to Rayyan for at least 30 minutes every day. If he wants to talk more, I am there to listen. It could be about anything or anyone, it doesn’t matter to me. These days I often hear about the MCU and their achievements with enough enthusiasm that it looks like their profits will be deposited into our bank accounts. Sometimes it is about the religion and God, his work, travel, friends, ideas, good jokes, movies, Batman etc etc but I owe it to him to listen wholeheartedly. At times Rayyan realizes that the topic he is talking about may not interest me and checks it out by asking, are you actually listening to me and I repeat the sentences in his exact words back to him. That one decision has made a huge difference to both of us in a very positive way.

100 Rays Of Son - 26

To Joke Or Not To Joke…. That is the question.

One day as I finished cooking lunch and waited for Rayyan to arrive, I received a call from him in a panicky hushed tone, “Maa, I may be late in coming home”. This was the first time since Rayyan owned a mobile that I heard him speak in this manner. Naturally the contagious panic spread to me. “What did you do? What happened to you?..........................” and many other questions were blasted at him in lightning speed. “I did not do anything Maa. Nothing has happened to me either. Just waiting for one of the girl on the steps to move so that I can get down and come home”. Don’t blame me for wanting to hit him on his head with a hammer or something, but somehow I manage to ask, “You are speaking to me and I know that the cat has not got your tongue yet. For God’s sake can’t you ask her to move?” Again the irritating hushed voice comes from the other end, “No maa, I can’t because she is sad and maybe she is crying. I cannot bother her”. Soon my imagination starts running wild. Here is a pretty girl who is hurt and my son can lend her a shoulder to cry on. Soon she will be coming home to see who will be her future MIL. How pleased she is going to be with me…. Now my frustration and irritation are replaced with happiness. “Do you know her?” I ask enthusiastically. “A bit” says Rayyan. Now the story is fully written and published in my mind. “How stooopeeed can you be Rayyan? Go ask her nicely what is wrong. Help her if she in need of help. Don’t you know how to behave around girls who are hurt?” Rayyan answers in his usual tone, “OK maa. I will do that”.

I serve the lunch and sit down to have it because anyway Rayyan was going to be late and maybe he will take the girl for paani puri or lunch to console her. There was no point waiting for him to join me for lunch. As I am finishing my lunch Rayyan walks in. “What happened? Did you not help the girl?” Honestly I am very much disappointed that my son did not turn into the saviour of this damsel in distress. I am not even sure whether he is genuinely my son or not. He answers in that dull tone once again, “I asked her what was wrong, she said nothing and allowed me to get down the steps. I came down and waited for about 3 three minutes in case she needed some help, then I came home since she did not respond”. My face received the biggest face palm of its life. “That’s all?” I ask, “Yes” says Rayyan. I had not further words. I ask him to serve himself and get back to my writing job.

Slowly, I start teasing Rayyan around his friends, my family and everywhere about the incident. The biggest joke was, whereas everyone got the joke, Rayyan did not get it why it was funny. One fine day, he asks me, “What is so funny about it Maa? You have narrated it almost to everyone and everyone laughs but I do not understand what the joke is about?” It is not easy to explain this to this guy because he genuinely does not seem to understand even a bit of it. Now when I start thinking seriously, I don’t know why it is funny but it was funny anyway. Finally I somehow put it out to him, “You had an opportunity to get close to this girl, befriend her and may be take it ahead into a relationship. When you ask, the general answer is always ‘nothing’ but does not mean they don’t need help. You should insist and persist, right? All your friends are laughing because you missed a good opportunity with this girl”.

I expected an enlightened look on his face, but instead I got a shocked and a bit of disgusted expression from him. “I think the joke is on all of you and not me. A girl is hurt and we don’t even know the reason for her sadness. We are not sure whether she is ready to seek help or not. We don’t even know whether she wants helped and can be helped or not. All you were thinking of this as an opportunity? You too maa?”

Looks like I am losing this battle again but I blurt out in defence, “Isn’t helping someone good?” and he replies, “Off course it is good to help everyone and not just boys helping girls. What is wrong is force feeding help to people. If they want they will ask for it. I stood there for a while so that if she wants something she will approach me. Quite often people want to be left alone to sort things out for themselves. Not every problem needs someone to interfere to be solved. I think I did the right thing and it is not funny”.

I still think it is good joke to lighten up any event or gathering but somehow I am not so comfortable cracking it as I was before I had this conversation with him…………………..

100 Rays Of Son - 25

Rayyan's Loving Fussy Aunt

When I was pregnant with Rayyan, all were happy that there is child coming into our home after nearly 15 years. There is no doubt that the happiest person was my elder sister Surila. She was somehow sceptical about having children of her own, one of the reasons could be the phobia she had towards needles and doctors since her childhood. I was the confident and trusting one with doctors and she was the opposite.

Since the day she heard that I would be having a baby, the pampering, planning and imaginations started running wild in her. When I had a regular scan in my third trimester, she pleaded with the doctor to check the gender of the child, which was not allowed in the hospital. But she kept pestering and also assured how precious this child was for us. We did not go for gender test but during the scan the doctor said it must be a girl but was not sure. My sister’s joy knew no bounds on hearing it. Even I was very happy. The only person who was disappointed by this was my brother. He grew up among three sisters and was expecting another boy to join our family.

When Rayyan was born, my sister was shocked to know it was a boy, but it lasted only a minute because the next minute she fell completely in love with him. She took it upon himself to take care of him, like bathing, dressing and his routines other than feeding which I had to do because only I had breast milk. Otherwise someone would have done that as well. Apart from the nights when Rayyan slept from 8 pm to 7 am, he was completely taken care of by my sisters, brother, mom and dad.

My sister would claim that he is the best disciplined child in the whole world quite often and would want me to agree to it as well, which I wouldn’t do. He was so precious to her that she never took him to bathroom to have his bath until he was around 8 months old. 

Until then, believe me- he was bathed in our living room. I wouldn’t be a part of this drama but my mom and my sister would do it themselves after a thorough oil massage for him. There were three different powder puffs for the baby. . If any time I mixed up the puffs, my sister would be very upset. There was no way for me to just say, “That baby is so cute”, before she would start off with her own arguments of how Rayyan was better. The cradle should not creak when I put him in it so that his sleep doesn’t get disturbed. I have been patient, very very patient with all the fussiness going around in home back then.

Pink for the face, yellow for the body and blue for the bums. If any time I mixed up the puffs, my sister would be very upset.

Rayyan was a fussy eater and her main task of the day was to feed him his cereals. She would spend hours with different toys and fun for him to eat his food. 

The child with all the love and attention became very calm and so cool that he seldom had the chance to cry at all. Many would tell me that he would grow into a completely spoiled brat, which never happened.

The first separation they had was when my sister had to visit our native village with her husband. Rayyan ended up with fever which did not go down at all with medications. On the 7^th day my sister arrived and he was kicking fit the next day. Life went on and when Rayyan was a bit over 3 years my sister was diagnosed with breast cancer. Due to her apprehensions about cancer treatment and also the fear of the side effects which she had seen in my dad, she refused to go for surgery, chemotherapy or radiotherapy.

Rayyan got his share of attention even when she was going through cancer, though some of the tasks got shifted to me. I was pregnant with Farheena as well at the time of her diagnosis. I struggled a lot to cope up with many issues back then and was at loss most of the times. Rayyan was completely confused with the change in our home environment. Farheena was born, she was diagnosed with brain atrophy and later I was diagnosed with cancer. You can imagine how this changes must have affected the child who was pampered with three different powder puffs.

He never asked many questions nor made any demands. He would silently get lost in paintings or drawing various pictures. We were so lost in our own chaotic world that we never gave a thought to what Rayyan was going through. But later on I realized a little bit of it through his paintings what he must have gone through emotionally during those two years.

April 1996 I had my surgery and June 6^th 1996 my sister lost her battle with cancer. She was the liveliest, happiest, most energetic and physically very strong person but she had to go too early. I was in Byndoor when she passed away and couldn’t be there to have a last look at her due to my husband lying to me. When we arrived, her last rites were over and she was gone physically forever. I say physically because I feel her presence, especially regarding Rayyan at times, but being a rational person I find it very hard to accept or write in public about it.

My family decided to lie to Rayyan about his dear aunt and kept telling him that she finally decided to take treatment and was in hospital now. But four months later, I decided that he should know the truth. I consulted Mr. Ali Khwaja, a counsellor with helping hand regarding this and he was of same opinion. So, I had the tough time of explaining to a five year old about what had happened and about death. I had to assure him that I will fight it out with right treatment and will be there for him because I could read that question in his eyes. He kept staring at my bald head as I said this, because for him that was scary thing. My loss of hair due to chemo immediately followed my sister’s death and that must have scared him so much.

When we told Rayyan my sister was in hospital, he would keep asking me when she is going to come back, how was she etc. But once I talked to him, he never asked about her again. 24 years have gone by, but he hasn’t questioned or asked anything about his loving aunt. He changed completely and became more independent. So far as I discuss her with him, tell him about our childhood stories and some funny incidents which I recall, he listens but doesn’t respond. He had his own way dealing with grief and he handled it silently on his own. I wish I could have helped him better. We all miss her and express it so often. I know Rayyan does too, but he keeps silent over it.

100 Rays Of Son - 24

A Tiny Promise That Withstood Storms

How much of challenges can a person handle? How much can about to be five year old child handle? Answering that question was tough on me when I was going through cancer. All the hush hush talk about my surgery was making my 4 ½ year old son very nervous. He knew something was wrong with his Maa and that something was not good. We did not have heart to let him know that his Maa was suffering from cancer which was a life threatening illness. Also, I had no clue how to explain the mastectomy surgery to him. Moreover, his beloved aunt, my elder sister was in the last stages of cancer and he knew that she was suffering. This was too tough on him.

 When I was dressing up my 11 month old daughter after giving her a bath, Rayyan walked up to us. He looked quite worried and sad. I asked him, “what happened beta?” He did not say anything for a while, but later asked me, “Maa, what has happened to you? Where are you going tomorrow?” It was a day before my final consultation with doctor to fix a date for my surgery. I decided to go for total radical mastectomy and my family were very upset that I was not trying anything else before the final decision. With that question from my child, my heart landed in my tummy. Those words, that look and the sadness are still etched in my memory like most of the events relating to my cancer experience. He had heard everyone around him talking about my illness; he had seen me go for check-ups, having biopsy, discussing things with my family and had lot of questions but he had no courage to ask. We elders had decided to protect him from the truth but made the matters worse for him since unknown is always worse than the worst of the known.

In a minute I had overcome my shock and shot him one of the most genuine smiles I could bring up. I made him sit beside me and told him that he had to listen to me carefully and ask me to explain anything that he would not understand. I told him that one of my breasts had developed a lump which could be dangerous if left untreated. So instead of removing the lump, I had decided to remove the breast itself so that I can be safe. I was going to get operated and the date would be fixed, after which I will take medicines that will help me become healthy once again. As I explained everything to Rayyan, I was worried about his response to this revelation. To my surprise he sighed in relief. He exclaimed, “Oh, that’s all? I thought you are going to leave us all forever or something like that”. I casually said, “I feel a bit sad that the doctor is going to remove one of my breast”. Promptly he said, “It is not like losing a hand, leg or eyes Maa. What do we do with breasts anyway? Farheena can always drink milk from bottle?”  Those words really lightened up the situation for me and I promised my son that I am going kick cancer and be with him as long as he wants me. He made a tiny promise on that day that he would help me in everything I do as well. That tiny moment had filled me with lot of power and strength to fight out anything that would snatch me away from my children. I became too greedy for life span. I clearly told my doctor to do whatever it takes to help me survive. I did not mind the quality of life, all I wanted was quantity.

I so often hear who is behind successful man or who is behind successful women etc etc. In my life, I know who is behind my own success for sure. All the credit goes to Rayyan. I clearly remember the day when he first stepped in to help me, keeping his promise which I had not taken that seriously when he made it. I was discharged from the hospital after my surgery and was back home. I couldn't do much with my left hand, which was the side I had lost my breast to cancer. Farheena was on bed and wanted to get into my lap and was indicating for me to pick her up. I struggled to pick her up with my right hand. My husband and sister were nearby but were lost in communication about my elder sister who was having a tough time battling cancer. They were worried and sad about her and so lost that they missed my struggle with picking up Farheena.  That is when Rayyan left his toys, hurried to my side and helped me pick up Farheena. That was just the beginning. He would be waiting thereafter, whenever I would struggle to pick her up. Soon, my hand healed and I gained enough strength to lift her on my own. But, whenever he was around, Rayyan would say, “wait maa, I will help you pick her up” and rush to my side. Even though I had been through a tough time just then, this little gesture from Rayyan filled me with optimism. I knew that I was not alone in the struggles of my life, I had a tiny soldier to support me. He was very tiny and it looked cruel to seek help from him but it meant a lot whenever he did. I can still see him rushing to me, helping me to pick up Farheena with his tiny hands.

That was just the beginning. He has been there to support and help me every time I need him, no matter what time it is. Sometimes, at night I am lazy to get out of my bed for a glass of water and I shout out to Rayyan and he always brings it to me without complaining even once. I know, it is so mean of me, but it just fills my heart with warmth when he does that. He has been supportive of me in everything I did. Be it housework, studies, learning to drive, working, or setting up My Giggle Garden – it is Rayyan who has stood by me and now finally supporting my passion financially as well.

We promised something to each other without knowing what the future held in store for us in April 1996. Somehow I have been lucky to keep my promise for 23 long years now and so has been Rayyan with his hard work and dedication. I am definitely a lucky mom.

100 Rays Of Son 23

The Weird Cats and Weirder Child of Mine 

One day I saw something like a black snake hanging down the wall of the common area in our home in Byndoor. It was really scary thing to look at. I made sure that it is not something like a rope or cloth by touching it with the stick. Immediately the black thing was pulled back into the attic. It looked like a tail of some animal. Immediately I recalled that my Mom would mention something called Kada Bekku (meaning Jungle Cat) which were dangerous blood suckers. She said they drank only blood of people and animals and did not eat the flesh.

Normally I panicked since they were atop our attic. My concern was for my hens more than for my humans, because somehow the humans looked in a much safer place than the hens. We had nearly six hens at that time who due to Rayyan’s freedom movement were living on top of trees and roof of out bathroom rather than in the coop which was safe for them.

When Rayyan came, I narrated to him what I had seen and to somehow place the hens in the coop. Now that was not possible because they were not in our reach anymore but the cats could get them right? The only option for us was the either kill the jungle cats or scare them away so that they never come back again. The person I choose for the task was Rayyan because he loved his hens and would accomplish the task for their sake, to save their lives. I also told Rayyan to take someone along to help him so that they wouldn’t jump at his neck and suck his blood out. So, with a big stick and a torch Rayyan went up the attic first to check out whether they were there or not. I stood down with another stick in case he needed me to be up there to save him. I was scared to face those jungle cats but I was brave enough to defend my son. There was no sound, but a little later I could hear Rayyan talking to someone on the attic. I had seen only him go up there alone and no one else was there beside him; so, who was he talking to in whispers. The conversation I could hear dimly was like, ‘Hi guys, how are you? What are you doing here? Do you want to eat something?’ Now I was sure that some stupid children must have got up there to play prank and scare us and they were Rayyan’s friends. Angrily I shouted from below, ‘Who is it Rayyan? Who are you talking to?’ Rayyan answers, “I don’t know their names Maa but they look very cute and peaceful”. “People or animals?” I ask doubtfully because somehow now I feel Rayyan is talking to the animals whose tail I had seen earlier. “Living beings Maa” he replies.

He asks me for the camera to take pictures and I oblige. Rayyan starts talking and I hear scampering of feet in the attic. In sometime he shows me pictures of some scary animals. I fiercely demand that he chase them away or I will get someone to do the job. He flatly refuses to scare them because he cannot bring himself to do it, no matter how hard he tries. He said that he could not actually find them anywhere in the attic because they were well hidden, but when he started talking they slowly came out of their hiding and started looking at him curiously. I am sure they were actually thinking where his jugular vein was but Rayyan assures me they were friendly.

All the argument led to nothing but Rayyan was banned from going to the attic anymore. I had nightmares of 10s of those creatures climbing down the attic following Rayyan as their leader. I hired someone to chase those animals away, but no one could find them. They said they must have gone away.

But few days later I found 5 dead hens and rooster in my backyard. Their heads had been severed and they looked pale. It was the way my mom described what the jungle cats would do. I was very angry with Rayyan and shouted at him for killing my pets with his stupidity. He listened to me calmly and replied, “That is their natural behaviour maa and they had their food. What is the big deal when we eat so many hens every day even though we have better options? I am sad my friends are dead but I don’t blame those cats because that is the nature works. Even if I could see the future, I could not bring myself to hit or scare those animals”. I will not say that I agreed to what he said nor have I forgiven him yet for not chasing away those wild creatures. But, I realized that Rayyan thinks completely in a different way. His mind has different circuits than what most people have.

People who have seen the pictures of these animals have told me that these creatures hunt in dark and are very quick to hide. They have never come in front of people, leave alone when the light is shone on them and to allow someone to take their picture. Rayyan has some special bond with all types of animals which is not something that he has learned from me.  

100 Rays Of Son - 22

Wonderful Love Of Blue Jays

In 2008 we spent some wonderful time in Florida. We were with Paula and Jay and I am sure both Rayyan and Farheena have stored tons of wonderful memories in their hearts of our time spent there.

When we were with Paula, Rayyan would be roaming around after lunch in the backyard or around Springhill since Paula, Farheena and I would be resting in the afternoon on most of the days.

Once, as I lay down reading a book, Rayyan walked in and told me, “Maa there is a beautiful bird caught in the bushes and it is unable to fly away. I want to save it but there is another bird which looks exactly like it, which is attacking me when I try to free it”. When such things are announced, it takes some time for me to understand what is happening, but then curiosity took over my laziness and I went out with him. There I saw two pretty birds, one caught in the bush and another one trying to rescue it. I went in to seek Paula’s help. She saw the birds and immediately rushed in to read about them on the computers. We learned that these were Blue Jays which can be aggressive at times. We could see the other bird hovering around and being protective. We were not knowing how we could help them, but Rayyan could not bear to watch the bird hanging by its wings. He approached it again, and the other bird tried attacking him, but he calmly moved forward without being troubled and started to free the bird. I was about to call him back fearing that the free Blue Jay would peck out his eyes or something, but to my surprise, both the birds calmed down. He may have been pecked on his hand once or twice, but later they were like trusting him. Paula was in and out may be a hundred times, checking her computer for more information on the birds and watching Rayyan.

Since the bird had struggled to free itself, its wing was badly damaged. Rayyan had to be very careful to free the bird. It was amazing sight to watch the other bird hovering above, anxious to know the progress. Finally, he freed the bird and slowly set it down. The bird tried to fly away, but it could not. Paula suggested that we bring it in to offer some bird seeds and water. We were afraid to approach it, but since Rayyan was already there, he carried it in. We quickly set up a cardboard box to make the bird comfortable. To our surprise the other bird followed as well. It flew inside started trying to get near its partner. Now Paula got busy clicking pictures and reading further information. The bird would not eat but had few sips of water. It looked terrified. Soon we had a gang of three dogs and two cats approaching the bird menacingly. Quickly  a cage was brought and the bird put in the cage. Immediately, the other bird went wild and aggressive. We all were scared and ran out of the room, except for Rayyan. He slowly opened the cage and the other bird got in as well.

We kept some water and seeds for the birds and placed them out near the pool. Through what we googled we realized the injured bird was female and the other one a male. Paula decided that we will take her to a vet if she does not recover. For a week these birds became the centre of drama in Paula’s home with the cats and dogs eagerly waiting to take a bite of them.

Rayyan would open the door of cage and try to let the bird out, but it could not fly yet.

Unfortunately on the 7th day (or may be a few days more, I am not sure), to his dismay, he found that the bird was dead. It hurt and confused him because none of us expected this. We never realized the cause of this either. With a heavy heart, he dug a hole in Paula’s garden and buried the bird. The other Blue Jay flew away. Rayyan was heartbroken for few days and would spend time near the spot where the bird was buried.

Another misfortune waited for him a few days later. I can’t imagine his shock to find the other Blue Jay lying dead at the same spot few days later. He sadly buried it beside his wife.

I had to console him saying, that he tried to save the bird and that is what matters.

What amazed me about this incident was that these birds were trusting Rayyan and only Rayyan. They were aggressive to all of us, including Farheena. Most of the animals have been very peaceful in their response to Rayyan and may be that is the reason he is so trusting and loving towards them or it could be vise versa. Cats are always nice to me may be because I love them.

These birds are etched in our memory forever not just because of their beauty, but also because of how they bonded, how the healthy bird protected its partner and also how inseparable they were. They raised the bar of love for Rayyan and now I am endlessly waiting for a daughter-in-law.

Rayyan finds the weddings and all its expenses useless and unnecessary because he feels it is not important. Those two birds had not taken any oath, made promises or were bound by law, yet they showed what a relationship should be like. He wants his relationship to be something like that as well, where it is love that keeps two people together and not the law or the promises or the expenditure they have made on the wedding day.

100 Rays Of Son - 21

                                                       The Wonderful Gift

  

For a long time, I permanently had a sketch as my profile picture everywhere. It is still there on some websites. At that time many people would ask me as to who sketched my profile picture. Some had assumed that it is one of those software applications which had sketched it out for me. The truth is that this was the birthday present from Rayyan, during his first year in Arena animation, which is the best gift I have received from anyone ever. BTW Rayyan gets to hear the best gift ever so often that he considers it a substitute for thank you in his mother’s dictionary. This picture became so close to my heart and remained to be my profile picture on bloggers, facebook, twitter, Indiblogger and other sites for a long time.

Rayyan has been interested in sketching and drawing since his childhood. He did a sketch of me when he was around 5 years old. 

He loved arts and wanted to make a career out of it. But knowing our education system, it is easy to guess that it was not easy. People kept holding him back, discouraging him that this was not possible. Art and drawing is good for hobby but not for profession. Though as a mother I supported him, I too made a lot of wrong decisions falling under the pressure, especially due to the financial dependency I had back then. Finally Rayyan got into Animation Engineering course in Arena Jayanagar, Bangalore. Surprisingly I had help for this decision making by winning a contest on Indiblogger, a 50,000/- cash prize for my article on 3G which Rayyan encouraged me to write.

Once he was in the field he loved, Rayyan started sounding so happy when he would narrate his learnings of the day. I hadn’t seen him happy learning computer science ever. Even though he was living in a PG, away from home for the first time, he was never bored or sad.  

Within weeks he started sharing his work over internet with me and I was quite impressed and happy with his progress. He was highly dedicated to his learning in Arena and never missed or left any project incomplete. He joined Arena in June and by October he secretly sketched this image and sent it to me on my birthday. I have never been as happy looking at a picture of Farida as I had been on that day. It was a lovely feeling, being created by a person you created in the first place.

I also realized the importance of allowing our children to make their own career choices, because they will be doing it for almost half of their life span they spend on this earth. Off course the calculation was done by Rayyan

100 Rays Of Son - 20

Being Fixed

Yesterday, my brother Sajid took us out in car, and Farheena enjoyed the outing. I told him that we should get Rayyan used to driving so that he can take Farheena out whenever car is available. Farheena declared that she is comfortable only with her uncle's driving and doesn't trust Rayyan to do a good job. I told her, "Rayyan will do great, don't worry. He is good at what he does". It kind of shocked me when I said that, because I usually say that no one can drive better than my brother in such situations. My sister Sabina says I am the original Andh Bhakt who blindly loved and believed in my brother and started the trend. She hates me for that as well and says it out loud without even flinching a bit. So how did I not take this opportunity to praise my brother but gave some credit to Rayyan? As I picked at my brain I realised this change has happened slowly over the years. It started with my embarrassment on a fateful day.
When my mom was diagnosed with cancer; after her surgery, my dad, brother and his family had shifted to Byndoor. They all were going through very rough phase of life. Initially I would visit them, but then my sister-in-law's uncle passed away and she had to go to Bangalore. I had to temporarily shift to their place to take care of my mom and dad. At that time I was working on computers and needed it to be shifted as well. My bother decided not to postpone the shifting, so that I could stay there for longer time. It is a different story that the temporary stay turned into months and year. 

Off he went with Rayyan to my husband's home to fetch the computer. Soon the monitor and desktop pc arrived in disconnected form. I decided to help my brother fix it. Everything was done but the monitor wouldn't sit on the stand, no matter how hard he tried. All the while Rayyan who was watching us said, "Maa, I think maamu (uncle) is doing it wrong. Can I show him how to do it?" I was very upset with this child in 8th grade who was thinking he was smarter than my brother. "For your kind information, let me tell you Rayyan, that my brother is computer science diploma holder. He knows a lot about computers and can fix it. He can assemble computers easily. The work will be done quickly if you do not disturb him", as I said that I threw a nasty look at that boy to shoo him away. But he stayed there watching us struggle with the monitor. Minutes ticked on. Rayyan said in a much lower voice now after being reprimanded last time, "Maa can I try it?" and I said again, "Keep quite, don't disturb". Finally, after a frustrating half an hour or so, the monitor would not sit on the stand and I was very upset that we couldn't do it. Finally I declared that during transport some part of it may have fallen off and it needs to be fixed. Meanwhile Rayyan in the background in a feeble voice says again, "Maa, we brought it very carefully. It is not broken. Can I try?" I looked at the child with contempt and said, "How do you think you are smarter than us? Ok, go ahead and give it a try", and I turned to my brother and said, "Byndoor is spoiling Rayyan. He is acting as though we don't know anything and he is......." I was stopped in middle of that sentence with a joyful and little louder voice, "it is fixed maa". Now this couldn't happen, it was just a minute or so since he went there. "How did you do it?" I ask in disbelief as I shake the monitor to be sure it is fixed. "You were confused with the slot. It needed to go in the other way". My brother was very happy that Rayyan did it though I was struggling to accept that he did it in a minute whereas we did not figure it out for a long time. "Can you remove it back and show me how you did it?" I ask, trying to sound authorative and smart, but fail miserably. Rayyan, calmly detaches the monitor and shows me the right slot. "Ohhhhhh.. That is it. Now I understand" and I try to end the conversation there. He fixes it back again.

In days that followed I allowed Rayyan to fix things. I read through the catalogue to understand how to fix things, but Rayyan somehow knows it without guidance. He just knows it. That is his skill. It took me long time to accept it, then acknowledge that he is better at it than me and finally to ask for help whenever needed. Slowly I also realised that my brother is different and he doesn't even enjoy computers or fixing things. He actually trusts Rayyan to do such things around in his home now.
That one experience changed me a lot. It was not just the monitor but also Rayyan's mom who was fixed that day. I respect every child's opinion/suggestions now, even if it is a toddler expressing it. I listen to what they have to say. I realised that at times they have better solutions to the issues than us adults.