Role reversal

In the last few years, I have realised something that I now am convinced is a fact. Parents, as they grow older, increasingly become child-like, and their children have to adopt the roles previously undertaken by the parents.
The older they get, the more indecisive, dependent and vulnerable parents become. If the children assume their 'parental' responsibilities easily, without resistance, and dare I say with love, the transition is smooth. Otherwise, its trouble time.
I have increasingly been battling with this thought since mum met with an accident in January and I couldn't be with her. And now that a friend is in a similar situation, I can't help but think how life changes. And how roles get reversed before we can even understand what's happening.

chain of thoughts

So after a depressing start to the bank holiday weekend, we finally managed to rescue the bulk of it. A smashing night out in the pub, after downing god-knows-how-many pints of lager, arguing to bits about luxury cars and parental idiosyncrasies, a couple of bumps on the head and potential pub fights later we realised that we did have quite an abundance of courage. Not individually perhaps, but collectively we did well, bringing each other out into the danger-free zone. And we have some nasty hangovers to show for our reckless living on the edge.

Following on from here, it was really nice to read on a dear friend's blog a chain of thoughts which mirrored my current state of mind. I agree with T's friend G - alcohol helps! And how!

Bring on the booze! :-)

handle with care

Reality is so odd, it is seldom what it appears. Yet we often rely on 'reality checks' . How useful is a check based on a fragile notion? Is anything really worth our undying attention and single minded devotion when the sand castles of hopes and dreams provide such fleeting stability?
When someone you love is deeply hurt, and all you can think of is how you can lessen their pain, what do you do? Do you ask them to stop thinking of their sorrow and take them out for a change of scenery, perhaps to the pub to drown the pain in vodka and (cynical?) laughter? Or do you hold them close, let them cry, deal with their pain, help them wash their face, cry a little more, sigh in resignation and then take them out for a simple meal? I don't know which way is the right way. I wish I did.
My home is sad today. And so is my heart. I wish I had the abundance of strength to let the light in.

Happy days

In Oxford. 4-6 May, 2008

Thought for the day

Two thoughts really, unrelated but for their home - my cluttered mind. Have you ever looked at a word, any word, long and hard? Do you feel that after about 15-30 seconds of unashamed staring, the word stops being a word, it becomes a thing, with shapes and forms, almost like a drawing or a pattern. Lets do it together. Lets stare down

word

Do you see patterns in 'word'? Does it become an object unknown, a new 'thing' with a shape, form and existence separate from that of the 'meaning' that it generates in us when we read it, without really 'looking' at it. Do you see a curtailed sword, a 'w or d', a distorted worm, an inverted drow, an upside down prom, with connotations of all these and something more.

Next time you are reading a book, if you are a bit dotty like me, do try it. Its an amazingly disarming, humbling tool. You realise there is so much more to the obvious, layers and layers of interpretations, understandings and perspectives. Its just about holding still, and observing, for a little while.

My other thought is that I have been too selfish lately, feasting on the beautifully insightful writings of so many of my favorite bloggers without making any of my less than average contribution to the pool. Time to rectify the situation.

crossroads

I am in doubt. Don't know if I should broach this topic or maintain silence. Everyone I know has thought about it and experienced it at some level - for some it is central to their lives here - but nobody talks about it. Its taboo, not part of your polite coffee table or pub conversation. If anyone goes near it, an all encompassing, oppressive silence almost physically takes hold of the group. The question is this: Why are foreigners amost always welcome in Asia yet why are Asians so unwelcome in the West?

Don't get me wrong, I do not claim to have any answers. I seldom have them actually. I have thoughts though, loads of them, that bring no respite, only momentary attempts to rationalise.
One of them goes like this. Having grown up listening to stories of the great assimilative nature of the Asian/Indian culture, it was but logical to assume that perhaps, just maybe, we are more all-embracing, tolerant and loving people - a thought quickly dismissed given the reality of the situation - we are more than capable of horrific acts of intolerance, violation and violence.

So what could it be? I hope it is clear that I take the initial question not as a hypothesis but as a fact. So you see, the starting point of my shaky conclusions itself may be challenged. But we shall leave that to another day.

I am slowly inclined to think that the problem is actually more basic than we are ready to accept. Could it be that it is a matter of unwelcome guests? When the few western tourists go to Asia, they are a) sources of income, b) guests, for a few days, weeks or months, c) lovely people who admire our culture in case the odd one decides to stay back forever.

We Asians, on the other hand, come to the developed world for better opportunities, in plane and ship-loads. And we don't go back. So we outsiders in the West are a) a threat to the natives' jobs, b) unwelcome guests who never go home, c) culturally, behaviourally, attitudinally very different for any significant assimilation to take place, at least for the first generation of immigrants.

I have not touched upon the issue of perceptions and that is intentional. Perceptions make things subjective and we 'modern' Asians like to be as scientific in our thinking as our Occidental 'equals'. That is the assumption at least, that everyone is equal, and outdated, old fashioned concepts such as racism and inequality just don't exist. How do you explain a glass ceiling for an Asian man? You deny the existence of such a thing. You yourself try to justify the situation in several different ways, almost trivialising your experience. Looks to me like a variation of the stockholm syndrome, but it is for you to judge.

Like I said, I have no answers, and after the anger and sense of wrong fades, only the thoughts remain. And some great friends both Asian and British. What I don't have are answers to the many questions in my head.