Monday, October 12, 2015

A lie can sometimes save a life

A friend recently sent me a story on WhastApp about Thomas Alva Edison and how he had received a letter from his school teacher which he was to show to his mother. The mother read out the letter to the young Edison, “Your son is a genius. The school is too small for him and doesn’t have enough good teachers for training him. Please teach him yourself.”  Years later, after his mother died, Edison learnt of the true contents of that letter, “You son is addled (mentally ill). We won’t let him come to school any more”. Edison broke down and wept for hours. Later, he wrote in his diary, “Thomas Alva Edison was an addled child that, by a hero mother, became the genius of the century”.

It was a powerful story and one that evoked a complex mix of emotions within me. Edison was dyslexic, as was later discovered, but what struck me about this story was the way his mother handled that insensitive teacher’s letter.

As a mother she must have felt deep anguish, pain and empathy for her child’s mental condition, and must have struggled with a mother’s anger and humiliation at an outsider pointing it out so brutally to her.

As I read this message early this morning, I glanced across at my almost-11 year old son sleeping in his bed, as usual all curled up and having reached the other side of the bed during the night. My son has always been good in studies as well as sports and other extra-curricular activities. I have become almost accustomed to hearing praises from all his teachers, right from when he was in playschool.

That message got me thinking. How would I have reacted had I received such a letter? Knowing my rather short fuse and the harsh words that ensue when anger has me in its grip, I cringed inwardly as I imagined the scenario. Me yelling and my son cringing and probably dissolving in tears and an overall depressing, painful ambience. I shook my head and pulled myself out of the unappealing spiral of imagination.

Edison went on to invent the electric bulb and today school books have GK quizzes about him. If a person (adult or child alike) does not know who invented the light bulb, they are looked at strangely and then pitied for their ignorance.

As a parent, our reactions can leave either lasting damage on a child’s psyche or lead to permanent edification.

What would have happened had Edison’s mother ranted and raved at him? Had she taken out her frustration and humiliation on that already-suffering child? Bewilderment at his mother’s inexplicable rage would have probably pushed him into a shell or would have turned him hostile and probably a delinquent.

But, the wise woman did nothing of the above. She told him a lie, true – but a lie that saved him and moulded his life which the harsh truth could have never ever achieved.


A lie that would light up the world for all time to come.

Thursday, October 8, 2015

Life… through the lens of social media

The other day as I was idly scrolling down my Facebook newsfeed, I came across several photos of friends – many of them old friends of mine whom I hadn’t met in years except the odd chat over the phone and, that too, very infrequently. Some were celebrating their wedding anniversary and looked the picture of bliss and happiness. Some were holidaying in an exotic, scenic destination. Still others were flashing satiated grins before a lavish spread in a glitzy restaurant somewhere. As expected all photos were very well liked and had attracted plenty of congratulatory and other comments. My eyes lingered long on those photographs and those happy faces continued to pop in my mind all through the day. Till I saw those pictures, I had been fairly content and planning my workday enthusiastically. Don’t get me wrong. I have nothing against my happy friends. But such images make you pause, often flick you on the raw, rip open your own carefully camouflaged wounds and damage control can often be a slow process.

I found myself sinking into the familiar abyss of distressing thoughts, mulling over the painful what-ifs, the highs and lows from my own life flashing before my eyes. There were many happy days interspersed with not-so-happy moments, but the latter had the power to alter the topography of your very existence.

At the risk of sounding horribly clichéd, I think all of us dream of that perfect life – a caring and understanding spouse who also nurtures you emotionally and spiritually, a comfortable home and happy, healthy kids (or, rather kid, given our propensity to one-child families these days). Some get it all and more; some get just a portion; while some get nothing at all.  

And even when the cracks appear or wishes remain unfulfilled or deadlocked in a tug-of-war, you kind of chug along stoically, accepting it as your ‘fate’. The pursuit of happiness has long taken a backseat to the pursuit of mere survival. You remind yourself of the countless other things in your life that you should be grateful for, and even as the battered self-worth is just about healing, along comes social media and thrusts in your face all that you yearned for but never managed to have. The carefully constructed barricade crumbles a bit, and as raw emotions get exposed, the shrapnel of reality dig in hard. You wince, you shrivel up a bit and try not be ungracious in begrudging someone else their happiness. 

I know many of my friends who, like me, tend to take social media photos purely at their face value and indulge in (needless) negative comparisons. Gosh, how are all those people so happy and sorted? Did we somehow miss our share of ‘happy hours’ when Someone Up There was doling it out?  


These conflicting feelings, the roller coaster impressions and the flashback that ensues continue for some time (and even days) before normal routine once again throws its mundane albeit comforting duvet over you and you carry on living again….till the next social media thrust!