Aahat: A Little Boy’s BIG Take-aways From An Old Pakistani Drama

A few days ago, a Facebook post featuring a clip from the very well known 90s Pakistani drama Aahat, prompted me to do a quick YouTube search and watch two episodes – pixelated, low HD visuals and all. Watching veterans like Samina Ahmed and Sania Saeed act out a brilliant storyline and script with excellent dialogue delivery sans the use of over-makeupped faces, overdone houses and for that matter, overdone cinematography, literally took me back to my childhood in the 90s.

Watching the 8:00 pm drama was a family custom in most houses at the time. With no concept of personal iPads and smart phones, and limited TV channels and content at our disposal, the TV lounge brought families together. From Nanis (maternal grandmother) and Dadis (paternal grandmother) to parents, toddlers and even househelp at times, everyone watched the same content at the same time, and this was especially true for the end-of-the-day 8 o’clock drama. Of course, the content itself was much more appealing and cleaner sans extramarital affairs, domestic abuse and violence, making it more palatable for everyone in the household.

But what struck me while I watched the first two episodes of Aahat was how the core messages in the drama series had never registered on me as a child. All I remembered were three little girls (one of whom was possibly in my school as far as I remember), a comically and perpetually annoyed Dadi (played by Samina Ahmed) and a sickly pale Sania Saeed cast as Rabbiya. As I watched the scene with Rabbiya’s neighbour Naheed’s (played by Talat Naseer) maid telling her about her drug-addicted abusive husband, it all did come back but these were not things that had stayed in my mind then. A few more scenes into it and I decided to do some more research into the drama because the storyline just seemed too forward thinking and mature for its time.

And guess what I discovered?

The 6-episode mini-series was the first highly visible collaboration between PTV and the Population Program – a government sponsored family planning awareness program assisted by the Johns Hopkins University/Population Communication Services (JHU/PCS).

Yes, we were that pragmatic and progressive in the 90s!

Along with family planning, the plot was carefully created and crafted to highlight other social issues including the patriarchal desire to prefer boys over girls, maternal health, family pressure, PPD, domestic abuse against women, women’s often under representation in the workforce (especially informal) and drug addiction. And how articulately and beautifully were these issues depicted by the cast!

As I watched, my 8-year-old sat with me. I don’t normally watch the occassional Pakistani drama I view with him around, but we have all been under the weather and exhausted lately, and I figured a 90s Pakistani drama was probably much better than one from the content shown nowadays. And I am so glad I did.

Why?

Because he saw and understood things that many full-grown adults either don’t, or don’t want to.

Do read on to find out more…

1. Naheed’s maid asking her to keep her salary and the latter’s husband abusing her physically.

The maid’s husband was a drug addict and she knew that he would forcibly take the money from her and squander it on drugs, leaving nothing for her and their 11 kids. My son, unable to grasp the conversation between the two, asked me what she was saying to Naheed. I explained that she’s telling Naheed that her husband gets angry easily. In a later scene, we see her husband at Naheed’s door physically abusing the maid and demanding her salary. My son, his indignation apparent, asked who he was. When I told him he was her husband, he said, “He should be put in jail!” He also asked why he was hitting her. When I explained that he’s asking for her salary, he replied,

“Whyyyy?!? That’s stealing. She WORKS for that money. Why should she give it to him? And that too when he hits her! She should leave him!”

And that, my friends, is an eight-year-old BOY recognizing and standing up against violence towards women. That’s a little boy understanding the importance of body autonomy, women’s independence and empowerment, and walking out of abusive relationships.

2. Amir’s (played by Salman Ahmad) sister asking him and Rabbiya to adopt their fourth-born daughter and everyone including Amir, pressurizing Rabbiya to concede.

The background to this for anyone who hasn’t watched the drama or doesn’t remember the storyline, is that Amir and Rabbiya married young and had 4 kids within 6 years of marriage. Not only did this take a toll on their marriage, it also saturated their finances and severely compromised Rabbiya’s mental and physical health. Moreover, Amir had always dreamed of having a son, and the closely spaced children seemed to be an attempt to do just that. And yet, God had other plans, which clearly did not make Amir and his mother happy. In comes Amir’s sister who is childless. She and her husband decide that taking Amir and Rabbiya’s youngest is the solution to ALL their problems – they get a child, and Rabbiya and Amir are spared the financial responsibility of raising yet another child (and making room for a son I suppose, based on the storyline).

My son watched quietly as these scenes unfolded and then asked what was happening. When I explained it to him, he asked,

“But the mother doesn’t want to give her baby?” When I replied in the negative, he said, “So then they shouldn’t. She should decide. She should say “No”. She’s the mother.”

And that my friends, is an eight-year-old BOY recognizing body autonomy for women. That’s a little boy understanding the importance of reproductive rights for women.

3. Rabbiya breaking down at the dining table after everyone leaves to drop Amir’s sister and her husband to the airport.

With the decision made to adopt the baby, Amir’s sister and her husband left for their hometown. As the door closed behind them, we see Rabbiya collapse into a chair and break down into sorrowful tears.

My son’s reaction?

“She won’t be okay for years.”

And that my friends, is an eight-year-old BOY recognizing Post Partum Depression, (PPD), a mother’s grief and her helplessness in the face of seemingly nice people – HER people – who found a way to have their way at her expense. That’s a little boy’s understanding of emotional trauma.

While I hope that he is able to hold onto this understanding and mindset as he grows up, my question is, how does an 8-year-old boy, who does not get to see such content on media, who has not been exposed to domestic abuse – physical, mental or emotional, recognize these basic facts of life?

• That a woman has a right to her body and her earnings.
• That violence against women is wrong.
• That a mother’s consent to matters pertaining to her children’s needs is vital.
• That grief and trauma can have life-long repercussions.

And yet, HOW do full grown adults, men AND women, not only have no understanding of these issues, but also fail to recognize them at best, and ignore them at worst?

If an 8-year-old can grasp these concepts from two episodes of an aged and blurred TV production in a language he is not 100% fluent in, what stops fully functioning adults from recognizing and changing their mindset?

And what can we do to bring about such a seemingly Herculean task?

#Aahatdrama

#pakistanidrama

#thosewerethedays

#qualitycontent

#alittleboysBIGinsights

The Baader-Meinhof Phenomenon: Signs for a people who understand

Have you ever heard a word that you had never heard before and then soon after, maybe a day or two later, you come across it again? And then again? Or when you buy a new car and then it seems like two-thirds of the population drives the same car in the same colour? Well, apparently there is a term for this. I know because I looked it up (yes, I’m weird that way). It is called the Baader-Meinhof (pronounced as Baa-der-mine-half) phenomenon.

I looked that up too 😆

And the reason I looked it up was because this has happened to me multiple times in my life, and I have heard of other people experiencing it too. And since I have an interest in language and communication and because our world is so fond of labelling things, I looked it up. And lo and behold, Baader-Meinhof is a thing. It is loosely defined as a phenomenon where one comes across a new word or situation and soon after, encounters the same again, almost like it is haunting them (that last part isn’t to be taken literally; I was just making sure you are still reading).

So, why am I writing about the Baader-Meinhof phenomenon? Well, because I came across two happenings recently which evoked the same sentiment in me. Kind of like the Baader-Meinhof phenomenon, really. They weren’t the same word or same situation, but they seemed to have an intersection, at least, in my understanding and interpretation. And since I have experienced this phenomenon before and always wanted to look up if there was a term for it, this time I made haste and did, both to my and your advantage! 😇

What were the two occurrences, you wonder? Well, on a recent trip to the Ottawa Museum of Nature, I came across an exhibit about Earth and Life, the explanation of which struck me, especially the words,

“Earth provides for life. Its particular chemical and physical conditions allowed life to appear and continue to allow it to thrive.”

The premise was further explained by conditions such as the Earth’s distance from the sun, moon and Jupiter, the tilt of the planet itself and more. And I just stood there reading it all again. As someone who deeply feels the magnificence of the Creator through His creation, especially nature and natural phenomena; and, as a recent immigrant to Canada who is alternatively awed and petrified by the severe temperatures as well as the drastic and sudden changes in weather, I felt rooted to the spot. My eight-year-old finding me reading the information with so much concentration came over and began to read. I found myself explaining the specifics to him and as I explained, I kept thinking that while I was essentially explaining scientific happenings to him, what I was truly explaining was the Power and Might of Allah (SWT).

In Surah Younus in the Quran, Allah (SWT) says,

“He is the One who has made the sun a glow, and the moon a light, and determined for it stages, so that you may learn the number of the years, and the calculation (of time). Allah (SWT) has not created all this but for a rightful purpose. He elaborates the signs for a people who understand.”

And in Surah Nahl, He says,

“Have they not seen the birds glide in the open sky? None holds them up except Allah. Surely in this are signs for those who believe.”

The magnitude of these words hit me full force. While most planets were discovered, identified and labelled as late as the 17^th century onwards, these words appeared in the Quran more than 1400 years ago with such a detailed explanation. The sun is defined as a “glow” – something which is often natural and has an inner source (think of a person glowing with happiness) while the moon is called a “light” – often something that needs to be switched on and off; and now we know that the moon’s light is actually derived from and dependent on the sun. The verse further clarifies their purpose – to give light and determine and calculate time be it in terms of a day, months, years or seasons. And it very clearly ends with “signs for a people who understand”.

If you think about it, the words in the museum, “Earth provides for life. Its particular chemical and physical conditions allowed life to appear and continue to allow it to thrive” not only state a fact, but they also reiterate what the Quran told us all those years ago, and it clearly shows that there has to be a Higher Power sustaining and maintaining the planet in the midst of absolutely unliveable planets. Scientists have found Mars to be too cold, Jupiter to have too much helium and hydrogen, Venus to have no water, Uranus to have unsuitable temperature and air pressure, and so on. And while Science proves this, I find it hard to believe that all of this is just natural phenomena. To me, at least, the words, “Earth provides for life. Its particular chemical and physical conditions allowed life to appear and continue to allow it to thrive”, are nothing but proof that there is a Creator who made, and continues to make it possible for His creation to live and thrive on Earth, as opposed to other planets.

There is a Creator because there is a creation.

And this brings me back to the Baader-Meinhof phenomenon, also referred to as the frequency illusion. A few days after I visited the Ottawa Museum of Nature, I came across this video of a Muslim revert on Facebook. He talks about his initial curiosity about our existence and purpose in this world, which compelled him to turn towards a study of different faiths and beliefs. However, finding himself dissatisfied with the content he came across, he approached a Christian cousin of his – someone he describes as ‘religious’. When he told his cousin that he had studied the major religions and could not find anything that satisfied his queries, the cousin asked him what he had studied, to which he replied, “Christianity and all the -isms” (which I would guess would imply Judaism, Hinduism, Sikhism and so on). His cousin then told him that he had left one out and when asked which one, he replied, “Islam.”

This (now) revert was appalled because “they are terrorists!” in his words. But he did go on to do his research which landed him in a mosque. However, while his knowledge and exposure (and tolerance) grew for Islam and Muslims, he still did not find an answer to his question, “What is our purpose in this world?” in spite of asking Allah to show him just one sign to make him believe.

Until one day.

On this particular day, when he opened the Quran, he found himself on a page with the verse quoted above from Surah Younus or perhaps, a similar one because there is a lot of repetition in the Quran. Many different chapters and verses address similar topics from different angles. But the gist of what he read was Allah (SWT) telling the people to look around them – at the sky, sun, stars, planets, moon, seasons, day and night – all natural phenomena, so to say. This Muslim revert calls himself arrogant for asking Allah (SWT) for a ‘personalized sign’ for himself to make him believe, and not seeing ALL the signs which had been clearly around him all along. In his words, “There is a Creator because there is a creation.”

The way I see it, the words used in the museum to describe life on earth are in essence, the words of verse 17 in Surah Hadid in the Quran,

“Know that Allah gives life to the earth after its lifelessness. We have made clear to you the signs; perhaps you will understand.

And that my friends, is a classic example, in my humble opinion, of the Baader-Meinhof phenomenon or frequency illusion – that there are signs all around us and on repeat, for those who wish to understand.

Help your kids (and yourself!) shift the lens with Mr. Gamal’s Gratitude Glasses

Do you often find yourself preaching the importance of gratitude to your children? Or thinking “This generation is so entitled…it’s because they have it all handed to them on a plate!”? And yet, no matter how hard you try to instill thankfulness in them, they seem to be getting whinier and grumpier by the day, right?

This was Mr. Gamal’s dilemma too in Asmaa Hussein’s book titled Mr. Gamal’s Gratitude Glasses. But unlike the often used “preach to teach” approach, Mr. Gamal (or rather Asmaa) has used a much more creative way to teach the kids some much-needed gratitude!

Of course, the title somewhat gives the storyline away (and this review will give away even more…beware spoilers ahead!) but the way the plot has been weaved is so simple and yet, so so creative. Superficially speaking, it is Mr. Gamal’s creativity that shines through his idea of distributing tinted glasses from the dollar store to his students after a day fraught with grumpiness to encourage them to shift their perspective, so to say. But when you delve deeper, you find creative nuance in the way each character in the story finds things to be grateful for in the midst of feeling lost and hopeless. And that, I think, is key to teaching gratitude to children or even ourselves. Because you see, when someone is feeling lost and forlorn, telling them to “be grateful for what they have” does N.O.T.H.I.N.G. In fact, preaching to them when they are already down might make them feel even worse for feeling down. In essence, we shame them when we do so.

And shaming gets no one anywhere. Not anywhere GOOD, at least.

Instead, the story unfolds in a way that each character does not only find gratitude in the situation, (which is often hard) but finds creativity, ingenuity and direction – all of which make them feel thankful and optimistic. For instance, when Farah was dismayed at forgetting her lunch at home, she put her tinted glasses on, which prompted her friends to ask her what was wrong (because remember Mr. Gamal had asked them to put their glasses on when they felt compelled to whine?) and when she told them that she didn’t have her lunch, they all shared theirs with her which motivated her to share hers with others if someone forgot theirs in the future.

Talk about a positive chain reaction!

Or when Adam accidentally spilled blue paint on his white T-shirt, the glasses inspired him to convert that blue blob into a whale! 

Talk about creativity!

And losing at dodge ball early in the game compelled Mona to look at her surroundings while she sat on the sidelines getting bored, and she ended up taking home three caterpillars to study as they morphed into beautiful butterflies!

What a great way to turn boredom into a science project!

And Yusuf…Yusuf’s gratitude journey actually has multiple lessons. He did not find gratitude the first time…who would if they had sprained their ankle and had to stay off their feet in all the games and sports? But after his mates presented their gratitude findings, he was able to go back, re-asses the situation and not only be thankful for having the cool experience of getting x-rayed and eating three lollipops (I think 3 is the author’s lucky number! 😄), but he also realized that he wanted to be a doctor like his mom!

I think this little bump and U-turn played out by Yusuf’s character was so integral to the story because it shows kids (and adults) that it is possible to re-do things, it is possible to make mistakes and correct them, it is possible to know better and do better. Life is all about that, isn’t it?

Such a powerful lesson!

And I LOVED how Asmaa inserted the dialogue, “The glasses just made everything look pink…But they made our brains discover new ways to think about stuff!”

Do you know what dialogues like that can do? They can prompt discussions with kids about the brain and all its parts and capabilities. And trust me, kids find stuff like this fascinating if you explain it in a fun, engaging way. Talk to them about the amygdala, the cognitive brain, the emotional brain, the lizard brain! It’s like telling them about different tools or the parts of a vehicle. If you explain it in a creative and simple way, they will not only want to know more but it will also help them identify what their brain is telling them at different times, help them shift their perspective and give them more control.

Trust me, kids are smarter and more capable than we think!

Of course, ending the story with a lesson for Mr. Gamal himself was an added tweak of humor by Asmaa and a reminder to us adults that sometimes WE need to put on some tinted glasses too!

With its simple but essential message of developing ‘an attitude for gratitude’ woven into a very creative storyline with everyday language and dialogues by Asmaa, and clean but detailed illustrations by Núria Tomàs Mayolas, Mr. Gamal’s Gratitude Glasses is definitely a keeper, and I have a feeling we’ll be turning to it long after we outgrow it!  

I, for one, have regularly started to whip out my 8-year-old’s sunglasses every time he whines about something! They will have to do until our next trip to the dollar store! 😆

You can order Mr. Gamal’s Gratitude Glasses from Ruqaya’s Bookshelf here!

Eid-ul-Fitr with Sikhs, Hindus, Christians…and Muslims!

This year, we celebrated Eid-ul-Fitr, our first Eid in Canada (the last one doesn’t count since we were in post-arrival quarantine) with a Sikh couple, a Hindu-Christian family, and a Christian mom with two little kids, all of whom had come over to a Muslim family’s house to celebrate Eid with them and their other Muslim guests.

Yep…you read that right. Sikhs, Hindus and Christians celebrated Eid-ul-Fitr with us Muslims.  

And guess what happened?

Nothing.

The sky didn’t fall, the ground didn’t shake, and the world didn’t end.

Alhamdulillah.

What did happen was that there was a table laden with good food, Eidi (money given as a gift on Eid) was given to the kids including those from non-Muslims households, there was some healthy debate on the struggles of third world countries, the challenges of living in first world countries as ‘outsiders’ (someone PLEASE tell me which countries are considered ‘second world’), the pressures of the educational system worldwide, health and the power of Big Pharma, and the ever-present issues faced by parents across the world. There was also a lot of leg pulling between mature adults (some very mature at the ripe old age of 81 mashAllah), including religious banter between a Hindu Aunty and a Muslim Aunty (who happened to be the host) …“Haw haye!” (how shocking!)…

Muslim Aunty: “I will just quickly say my Zuhr prayer (afternoon prayer) and come back.”

Hindu Aunty (with a naughty smile on her face): “See…this is something I would never do. Go off to do my pooja (Hindu prayer) while I have guests over! I can always do it later. My God won’t be angry…”

Muslim Aunty (indignantly but continuing to walk out of the room): “I’m just going to say the farz (obligatory prayer) and come back. My guests will be fine for five minutes without me!”

Mind you, this was all said in good ‘faith’ (pun absolutely intended), and laughed off by the two Aunties and other guests alike 😊

Quite refreshing, honestly.

It was heartening to see that although they got together to celebrate a religious festival, they did not feel the need to share that faith with those who did, nor did they feel the need to hide their opinions or defend their stance, for that matter. Keeping their individual faith, nationalities and ethnicities aside, this group of people met to celebrate an occasion, enjoy each other’s company, and gorge on some absolutely yummilicious food ranging from chicken dam kababs to mirchi ka salan (a flavorful green chili gravy), from Hyderabadi tamatar cut (tomato gravy usually served with boiled eggs originating from Hyderabad, India) to bhuna gosht (a meat dish), from tofu and chanay (chickpeas) to aaloo kalonji ki bhaji (potatoes cooked with onion seeds and other spices).

And then the desserts! A fresh fruit platter, chocolate coated dates, home-made coffee bundt cake, home-made rasgullay (balls made with curdled milk and flour dipped in sugar syrup), sheer khorma (vermicelli cooked with milk, sugar, nuts and dates) and anday ka halwa (a soft but crumbly dessert made with eggs, milk, sugar and clarified butter)!

Could you ask for more?

Bundt cake with chai

Well…you could of course ask for tea/coffee I guess…but we didn’t have to because Aunty served that too! And we enjoyed it immensely with the coffee cake 🤤 It is no wonder, then, that brunch turned into lunch and lunch turned into tea. While some, like us, remained a constant feature through the brunch-lunch-tea soirée, others dropped in for a while and then left for their other engagements because after all, Eid in a non-Muslim country is not a public holiday.

You may be wondering by now (if you’ve read thus far, that is) why you just read the entire menu of an Eid brunch I attended in Vilayat (foreign land)? Bear with me a little more…and you’ll soon find out.

Interestingly, those who joined after the actual brunch was served found their way to the table, loaded their plates, microwaved them and enjoyed their meal. There were no formalities, no topping up of dishes, no “Nahi nahi…aisay kaisay thanda khaiengay? Mein aap ke liye garam garam laati hoon” (No no…how can you eat it cold? Let me just warm it up for you!), no hustle to clear up and clean up before each and every guest was served. Surprisingly these mature adults knew how to serve themselves, use a microwave and pour their own tea. Imagine! 😱

The point is not to mock any culture or anyone for that matter; the point is that things CAN be done simply. And guess what happens when you do that? Life becomes simpler.

Who would have thought? 😆

Since Eid fell on a Monday, most of the people present at this get together had either taken the day off or dropped in for a while in the middle of a workday, and this was possibly the ONLY Eid celebration they had. Unlike in Pakistan, they don’t have the benefit of visiting multiple homes and families over a three-day Eid holiday which gives each family there the chance to exhibit their hosting and culinary skills. That, along with no house help, meant that one Aunty brought the tofu, chanay and rasgullay, another guest brought the kababs, sheer khorma and coffee cake while the actual host dished out the mirchi ka salan, tamatar ka cut, rice, bhuna gosht and aaloo bhaji. A one-dish is always a great idea…everyone pitches in and everyone gets to try dishes made by different hands using a variety of recipes…win-win!

By the way, did you notice that there were no appetizers on the menu? Something that might need last minute frying or at least, assembly? Remember that point about doing things simply makes life simple? There you go. Sure, appetizers add a certain class to the table, but they also add last minute stress, don’t they? And come to think of it, mess too!

And did I mention that the Aunty who brought tofu and chanay was Hindu and ate vegetarian? Wasn’t it nice that she brought dishes that she could eat herself (and share with others), hence, not burdening the host AND adding variety to the menu? Of course, the host’s mirchi ka salan and tamatar ka cut added to the vegetarian Aunty’s selection and of course, that of the other guests too! My point is, that it’s nice to think of the host and try to lessen their burden and inconvenience, even if you are the guest! It makes me think of the countless times people in Pakistan have to add items to their menu to accommodate picky children and/or people with dietary limitations. Maybe bringing a dish that your kids AND other kids at the party can eat, could make things easier for the host? I know nobody wants to cook when they are invited somewhere for a meal, but isn’t Eid all about celebration, togetherness and sharing?

Since all the attendees were either from Pakistan or India or had roots there, the discussion eventually turned to the politics, corruption and depravation of the common man, in these countries; followed by a comparison of how drastically different things are in first world countries. But one of the guests very rightly pointed out that it’s unfair to compare apples to oranges. From population to infrastructure, from facilities to mindsets, from culture to religious inclinations and influences, there IS a stark difference between the two. And comparisons should not be made generally speaking…

Did you sense a ‘But’ coming? If you did, your sixth sense is quite strong! 👏

BUT…a person can always learn, unlearn and re-learn things and adapt them to their specific circumstances and situations, methinks. You CAN break cycles, you CAN try different things, you CAN analyze what serves your best interests and what doesn’t, and then make the needed efforts to bring changes you can. That’s the blessing of being born human, right? That we can think, analyze and make the best choices.

That’s the blessing of being born human, right? That we can think, analyze and make the best choices.

It doesn’t have to happen overnight. It doesn’t have to be exactly how you envision it initially. It doesn’t have to be a complete overhaul. But it CAN happen. Step-by-step and even one step forward, two steps back sometimes, because that’s how transitions usually are.

Because let’s face it, with economic disparity on a steep rise in developing countries accompanied by a steep decline in the availability of natural resources, we NEED to think of the changes we, as individuals, can make in our lifestyles to prevent economic, environmental and social disaster. Of course, we can enjoy luxuries occasionally, but the day-to-day extravagance and waste needs to be re-visited and assessed through the lens of self-criticism. Eid brunches are just one aspect, but if we think about it, just the number of clothes we buy/make every year, the amount of water we consume to clean our lavish houses and maintain our landscaped gardens, steadily widens the gap between the fortunate and the less so; and are also a burden on the environment. Some would argue that these “extravagances” help create employment – gardeners, cleaners, people working in textile mills and clothing stores to name a few, if we just consider the case in point.

But I ask you, if these jobs are not creating economic parity, are not raising the standard of living for the vast majority of the population, what are they good for?   

So, here’s to simpler lifestyles, honest conversations, introspection and real relationships.

Here’s to embracing change, diversity and open-mindedness.

Here’s to a better you and me. And hopefully, a better tomorrow.

Eid Mubarak!

You don’t HAVE to listen to your ‘Lizard Brain’

Parenting is possibly one of the hardest things in the world. You can have a degree, a doctorate, your own practice, a huge following and yet, the challenges of parenting can literally bring you to your knees…or tears…or both.

And that’s parenting in general. Throw in a child with sensory challenges and your own trauma and triggers, and well, it can be a recipe for disaster.

But before you lose hope, let me also tell you that parenting can also be the most blessed ride. IF you have the right tools by your side, that is.

Hmmm….maybe I should make a song on this…

Let me tell you…parenting can be the most blessed ride,

If you have the right tools by your siiiide…

Lame, I know…but trust me, this is better than I was feeling two hours ago. Because you see, two hours ago I was T.R.I.G.G.E.R.E.D.

Why?

Well, because my son had a massive blowup and because I have been struggling with my own personal baggage of late and put together, that is NOT the picture of calm and serenity.

But let’s backtrack a little.

What happened was that I was having dinner while video-calling with my mom (whom I haven’t spoken to in a while). My son had finished his dinner already but there was a piece of roti (flatbread) on his plate that he wanted to show my husband (who was saying his prayers) because it looked like a Mosasaurus (a giant marine reptile that lived in the time of the dinosaurs). Now, I do remember nodding my head when he said he wanted to show it to his dad when he was done with his prayers, but it completely slipped my mind as I chatted with my mom. And guess what? I ate it.

Yup. The SIN of sins.

A few minutes later when he came to the table and saw me munching the last of the roti (flatbread), he blew a fuse. Literally. I saw it in his eyes first. And then he kicked me in the shin.

Once. Twice. Thrice.

A little background is warranted here. He is almost 8 years old, so he’s clearly out of the toddler stage of terrible tantrums. But he is and always has been a highly sensitive and emotional child which, like everything in the world, has its pros and cons. He loves big. Dislikes big. Talks big. Sings big. Dreams big.

You get the idea.

So, this wasn’t a one-off and I have had my share of meltdowns over the last 8 years. And in a lot of ways, I have become better at handling them. But I am still human. And I have my own issues (many many of them) which can be easily triggered especially at the end of a long roza (fast).

Anyway, being kicked in the shin, HARD I might add, made me see RED. But like I mentioned, I’ve been dealing with some of my own baggage lately which has made me somewhat of a crybaby. ANYTHING can make me cry. I guess it’s a release of sorts of a LOT of pent-up trauma and emotions.

So, I cried. Not of my own free will, but I cried. And guess what? He saw me crying. What a non-desi thing to do!

“Crying in front of your children? *tsk tsk*”

“They will think you are weak!”

“They will take advantage of you!”

“They will never listen to you!”

He approached me then, the rage still apparent in his eyes but somewhat softer. He hugged me while I stood there crying quietly. But I couldn’t offer comfort. Not in that moment, at least. Not when I had to put my own rising demons away first. So, I held him gently but firmly, moved him away, told my husband (who had just returned to the living room) what had transpired in his absence and asked him to take him while I took some space for myself.

I’m sorry I’m explaining this in such graphic detail, but writing is cathartic for me, and I hope that this can help someone in a similar situation.

A few minutes later, once I felt a little better, I went back to the living room to find my son still looking upset. The thing with him is that at times, his anger is a front for his sadness and shame. I knew he had lashed out because he was genuinely angry with me at eating that roti (flatbread) which he had specifically asked me not to eat AND because he felt upset at himself for reacting so strongly. He again tried to hug me while I put my food away (because I had lost my appetite), and whispered, “I don’t know why I did that…it was like I lost my brain.”

My shoulders relaxed a little when he said that because…guys! He’s not even eight. If he can tell me how he felt in the heat of the moment, that’s something right? So, I grabbed my mug of chai (God knows I needed it after all that) and sat down while my angry, cheeky monkey knelt at my feet and rubbed my shin where he had kicked me. My heart melted a little bit more but I was still upset and wanted him to know it (yeah I know…very mature of me 🙄). He then got up and promptly climbed onto my lap. I still didn’t feel like offering comfort, but you have to start somewhere, right?

And as I sat there sipping my chai, he repeated, “I’m sorry Mama, I don’t know why I did that…it felt like I didn’t have a brain. Is there anything I can do to make you feel better?”

We were slowly and steadily making progress it seemed. Step-by-step.

Anger, Acknowledgment, Apology, making Amends. Four important “As” methinks.

I told him I was sorry too for eating the roti (flatbread), that it was an honest mistake and that maybe we could shape another one to show Baba what the Mosasaurus looked like. He seemed to like the idea, so I reached into the basket to take out another roti with my fingers crossed. Who knows what would have happened if I had eaten the last of the rotis! *shudder*

Fishing out half a roti, I heaved a sigh of relief and helped my son shape it into the Mosasaurus that lost us 30 precious minutes on a school night 😒

But the story doesn’t end here…sorry 🙈 Just a little more…promise!

As we sat together at the dining table, I ventured into a teaching moment. Probably too soon the experts might argue, but thankfully it worked!

“You know how you said you felt like you didn’t have a brain?” said I.

“Hmmm” he said non-comittally (probably wanted to forget all about it and move on…but Mamas need to TEACH, right?)

“Well, you see the brain doesn’t really go anywhere. Neither does it ‘get lost’. But it can FEEL like that sometimes because sometimes one part of the brain takes over the others,” I said.

That piqued his interest.

“The brain has different parts?” he asked.

“Yes! There is a ‘thinking brain’, a ‘feeling brain’ and a ‘lizard brain’.”

“Lizard brain?” he asked, giggling.

“Yup, that’s the part of the brain that protects us from threats and predators,” I replied.

When you have a kid who is obsessed with dinosaurs, you know he’ll get it.

“It’s the part of the brain that sounds the alarm when it senses danger,” I continued.

“Ohhh….”

“Hmmm, so if you are in a forest and you sense that something is in the bushes, that’s your ‘lizard brain’ putting you on alert. And sometimes when something happens that we don’t like, it can sound the alarm too,” I added.

“So, when I kicked you that was my ‘lizard brain’ telling me to do it?” he asked.

“Yeah, but remember how the fire alarm once went off because there was some smoke from the toaster?” I asked.

“Yeah…what about that?” he asked, eyes wide with curiosity.

“Well, that was a FALSE alarm. The smoke detector sensed smoke and sounded the alarm as if there was a fire. But there was no fire. It was just harmless smoke” I explained.

“Hmmm…” (I could almost see the wheels in his mind turning).

“So, when you kicked me that was your ‘lizard brain’ sensing a danger when there was none. It does that sometimes, especially when things don’t go our way. But that’s like shooting a harmless rabbit when you hear a rustle in the trees and think it’s a fox!” I said.

“So, what can we do?” he asked.

“Well, you can help your ‘thinking brain’ overpower your ‘lizard brain’ in those times,” I replied. “But it can’t be done without practice.”

“So, how can we practice?” he asked.

“We can practice deep breathing even when we don’t need it. We can have a sentence like “I am safe” or “Mama can you help me?” But all of this needs to be practiced when you DON’T feel threatened. So that when there is a false alarm, the ‘thinking brain’ can remind you and turn the lizard brain’s alarm off!” I said with a smile.

“Ok. I think I will use “I am safe”, he said.

“I think that’s a great idea! Maybe tomorrow we could look up a picture of the parts of the brain and draw them?” I asked.

“Yes please!” he replied.

P.S. Now, this is in no way a guarantee that he will use these ‘teachables’ next time something like this happens. I, for one, know he won’t. We will probably have to have a few episodes like this and a few more similar conversations until maybe, hopefully, things fall into place. But the point of penning this down was that we often underestimate children and their capacity to understand concepts WE deem too advanced for them.  We can break things down for them and offer an opportunity to help them understand themselves and in the process, deal with our demons too.

Also, this proves that sadly, there is no shortcut to parenting. But there isn’t to anything worth doing, is there?