Ugly and Beautiful

So here I was trying to understand from my child what Ugly and beautiful is. It all happened when we were reading this fairly famous story called The Ugly duckling. Honestly, that story should be banned and parents and teachers should remove it from their reading lists. 

So coming to our discussion. It was way past our bedtime, for it was our story marathon day.  I read the title of the book aloud, "The Ugly Duckling". My curious George "Sehar" asked me what "Ugly" was. Her riveting big eyes looking straight into mine. For the lack of a befitting response, a response that reflected my understanding, I answered, something that's not beautiful. Sehar was at her simplest self, her eyes unblinking and her mind racing - " Like sometimes you are not beautiful when you are angry and your face is like this". She seemed to mirror what perhaps must be my concocted face when I am mad at her. It indeed was ugly, for the emotion must have found a way out of my heart into my face. And that's when I understood, beauty as the society understands today is a part of a big social construct. People are not beautiful or ugly; emotions and intentions are. 

And what better way to understand it but from your own child.  To any child her mom is the most beautiful thing in the world. For mothers in their whole being carry an emotion called Love and its the emotion that your child feels and nothing beyond. Children have an amazing tendency to step into the unknown realm of your subconscious, for their whole being is not charred by experience. What matters to them is the heart and the heart is where they belong. 

So that beautiful night when Sehar told me, Mom you are very beautiful but sometimes you get ugly when you are angry, the point came home. I hope it stays like this for her, forever.

Kia

So here I was sitting cross-legged with the 4-10 years old, ready to test for promotion board. My embarassed 33 years notwithstanding, I put up a smile and waited patiently for my turn. For today was not about me, it was about us and about you. 

It all began about three months back when I took Sehar to the karate class. She loved it the very first day. And as if on a whim, I thought of joining the adult class as well. So here we were sharing a dojo and as I saw Sehar's little bows to the dojo every time she entered and left her class, I saw myself bowing to the spirit in her. Sehar almost always finished her classes with hugs and "Mom, did you see how I did that?, Mom, did you see my cute push-up?, Mom, did you see my kick?" Thresholds were broken and achievements were small but nevertheless, they were always celebrated with a hug or a kiss. The dojo brought the best in both of us and to me made a better person out of both of us. Here we were in that little space, ready to throw away all our prejudices and ready to take on "ourselves" and the "limits we put on us".

The dojo's transcendence lies in its amazing ability to cross over to any place you want it to be. Soon our little drawing room turned into a dojo where the sounds of 1 Sir and 2 sir resonated in the air. As we practiced together and did high fives in the air and cheered and taught each other, we were two friends unabated by the differences in our generation or our age.

And between 5'o and 9o' classes and drives to and from the martial arts school, quick dinners, bike rides and play dates we completed our 3 months and here we were testing for our yellow belts sitting together, she in the front and I, the last in the row (being the oldest in the class) .

A quote from Mac dojo Karateka resonated in my mind - "Kia is a meeting of the spirits. To me, this implies a focusing of energy or simultaneously focusing the mind and body for one purpose". And as we ended our session with the board breaking  and a loud "Kia", we were officially one in spirit, body and mind in that moment and our distance was only a perception of space and time.

The magic called Day and Night....

The day drew to a close and the sun bid adieu to make way for its sparkly half. The sounds changed as the night dwellers claimed their space around the camp. Sehar was obviously upset. The open surroundings of the camp was her abode, a place where she belonged.

We had dinner by the camp fire and for the lack of nothing worse to do (like watching TV :) ), we decided to gaze at the stars..The night is a beautiful thing in the hills. The clear sky has million of stars sparkling with joy and that's where our magical story began. 

There in the sky is a magical pink fairy bringing the stars to her twirling black sequin sparkly dress. She loves sparkly dresses much like Sehar and is pink. I bet in that moment Sehar imagined herself to be the pink fairy.  As she dances, the dress twirls around to surround us. A smiley face appears in the crescent moon and brings smiles to every kid in the "whole wide world". The pink fairy dances the whole night, till its time for the blue fairy to take the moon and the red fairy to bring the sun. Division of labor, so we thought :) The sunny girl pokes everyone with its pointies (the sun rays :) ) and wakes everyone up. 


We twirled our way to the tent dancing to the tacit music of night. Hearts in motion and the mind dancing, our bodies slept through the night.

The first ray of light poured through the tent's sun roof. It was as if someone nudged us and brought us outside to witness the splendor of day break. If magic had filled the dark sequin dress with sparkles, the day was a beautiful wonder filled with colors. The resplendent red filled the sky as if the artist's palette had no more color left. As the red gave way to the orange and the yellows the day brought its sounds with it. Birds tweeting, cows mooing, the world seemed to have changed as life claimed its space. Sehar jumped and chased a bird and we sipped the tea and just marveled at the magic called day and night.

Seeds can really make you tall

A resplendent spring along with a chirpy background is a potent combination for self-discovery. Leaves were breaking through branches, adding life and character to the emerging spring... Life broke through the tiny mounds on the branches and continued to express itself in the blossoming flowers, in the ducks splattering in water, in the cardinals adding music, in sparrows doing their air-shows - it was a wondeful day to enjoy life as is.. After months of spending life indoors, Sehar was loving her new found freedom. It was as if everything around her was talking to her and expressing itself through her when she asked THE QUESTION - "Mumma, why are trees so tall and we are so small?"

 

"They are tall because nature made them that way", I smiled. So much for being at the realm of self-discovery.

 

"No Mumma, trees are tall because they are made of seeds. Seeds can really really really make you tall. We are not made of seeds, so we are not tall." Sehar refuted my claims as she answered.

 

Yes, I was at a realm of self discovery for, for once I agreed partly with what she said. We are also made of seeds, albeit a different kind. We are made of seeds of love, of hate, of joy and seeds of sorrow. Some seeds grow taller to make us wonderful beings while others consume us to define our self. Much like nature, we feed them and while some grow up to make tall beautiful trees, some become large as egos crushing our entities. Some are happy trees and some become plagued with sorrow and wilt with time. 

The day was drawing to a close and I felt as if a shadow touched me. I looked up and there it was standing tall, a strong character. I hugged Sehar and told her how much I loved her. She kissed back, the shadow moved as if in approval. The seeds of love blooming and growing.

 

Now every time I plant a seed, I choose it with care for seeds can really really really make you tall............