I am going to be a grandparent any time now. When the news got out, I was deluged with an outpouring of congratulatory messages. As if I had something to do with it. Whatever I have to do with it, first happened a couple of decades ago and then when I said yes to my daughter's choice for a husband. They took it from there and here we are, awaiting a grandchild. In their enthusiasm to be seen to be friendly / enthusiastic / polite or whatever, people mistakenly congratulate me.
People, if you must congratulate someone, please do that to the parents-to-be.
Get it right people. When X and Y get married (or are engaged to be married), or when X or Y (or both) get a Nobel prize or or when their yet to be conceived child makes it to that prestigious coaching class for the hard-to-get-in IIT or something like that, or when they win a few hundred million dollar lottery, or when they achieve something worthwhile, go ahead and congratulate them. Don't pollute the earth with stupid, meaningless and unfelt messages of happiness just because you have an electronic device that can commit mass-murder of this type and you don't wish to be seen not expressing your (fake) happiness at the happy event.
It is so typically Indian. You don't want to be seen to be missing the action. For example, my mum always found reasons why I should attend some wedding of the fourth grandchild of a fifth cousin six times removed. She used to say, you can miss anything, but not a happy occasion like this. When that fifth cousin six times removed died, I would be told you can even miss a wedding, but not the last rites. The central point was, you don't want to stand out in anyway; blend in, be one in the crowd, don't draw attention to yourself. I suspect this remains a central theme of Tambram existence.
This is similar to the typically Indian English usages like your good name please, your good self, please clarify, can we pre-pone the meeting, etc etc which irritate me no end. When I started working, official letters mostly started with "I beg having to advise you that your account is now overdrawn....", and ending with "yours faithfully" if one was in the private sector. If one were writing as a civil servant, he would claim to "have been directed to inform you".
I was warned more than once that if I continued to begin letters - especially the ones to the Head Office - with I should like to inform you that blah blah blah... and end them with yours truly instead of begging to advise them and remaining faithful to them, my career would remain in the doldrums. My attempts to convince them that I was neither married to my boss to be faithful nor owed him / her allegiance beyond the call of duty fell on deaf years. It was thus that my letter of resignation began with "I beg to advise you that I am unable to continue in your employment..." and ended with "Yours faithfully". The irony was lost on them.
I am irked no end by Emails and postings in Facebook showing "Proud grand parents" with the hapless newborn. For god's sake one should be proud when one has achieved something worthwhile. What exactly did the grand parents do to get a grandchild? Other than nagging their poor daughter / daughter-in-law to beget a child to keep up the family honour - Family Honour! Or badgering sixty four million Hindu deities resident in historic towns - or even in the illegal street corner temple that sprang up last year - for the favour?
Proud? Why? What did the poor little bawling, squirming thing do except get out of a dark prison that was quickly getting too small for it? Yes, the poor girl who had to support the little one inside for 10 months and then has to do it lifelong outside, she has something to be proud of as we have of her. Even the father of the little one, for having put up with "the hormones" for ten long months and who has to endure interrupted sleep for ten more, even he has something to be proud of. Parents of the new mother can justifiably be proud of their daughter for all the hardship she has already endured and which probably has just begun.
One can be happy that the birth happened without any glitches or complications. One can even be happy at the baby's good looks although the matter of looks in newborns is highly exaggerated. All newborns look like newborns and do not rank very high in the looks department. That happens later. Some are happy that they now have an heir for their (dubious) legacy. One can be genuinely happy that the girl's ordeal of pregnancy with all its manifold risks is finally over. That relief is justifiable as is the resultant happiness.
I am all too aware that this rant notwithstanding, my phone lines are going to get jammed and my email boxes are going to overflow with messages congratulating me on the birth of a grandchild. I am going to be labelled a proud grandparent.
Let me assure everyone that I am a proud parent (for what my children have achieved in their young lives) and will be given many more reasons to be proud. The grandchild might even make me proud by reciting something aged two - Vishnu Shahasranamam is a Tambram favourite. Calculating the mass of Higgs Boson a la Homer Simpson, might do it for me.
For the moment, though, my pride is where it rightfully belongs - my daughter.
PS: The grandchild was born later that night!! (updated 3rd May 2020)
People, if you must congratulate someone, please do that to the parents-to-be.
Get it right people. When X and Y get married (or are engaged to be married), or when X or Y (or both) get a Nobel prize or or when their yet to be conceived child makes it to that prestigious coaching class for the hard-to-get-in IIT or something like that, or when they win a few hundred million dollar lottery, or when they achieve something worthwhile, go ahead and congratulate them. Don't pollute the earth with stupid, meaningless and unfelt messages of happiness just because you have an electronic device that can commit mass-murder of this type and you don't wish to be seen not expressing your (fake) happiness at the happy event.
It is so typically Indian. You don't want to be seen to be missing the action. For example, my mum always found reasons why I should attend some wedding of the fourth grandchild of a fifth cousin six times removed. She used to say, you can miss anything, but not a happy occasion like this. When that fifth cousin six times removed died, I would be told you can even miss a wedding, but not the last rites. The central point was, you don't want to stand out in anyway; blend in, be one in the crowd, don't draw attention to yourself. I suspect this remains a central theme of Tambram existence.
This is similar to the typically Indian English usages like your good name please, your good self, please clarify, can we pre-pone the meeting, etc etc which irritate me no end. When I started working, official letters mostly started with "I beg having to advise you that your account is now overdrawn....", and ending with "yours faithfully" if one was in the private sector. If one were writing as a civil servant, he would claim to "have been directed to inform you".
I was warned more than once that if I continued to begin letters - especially the ones to the Head Office - with I should like to inform you that blah blah blah... and end them with yours truly instead of begging to advise them and remaining faithful to them, my career would remain in the doldrums. My attempts to convince them that I was neither married to my boss to be faithful nor owed him / her allegiance beyond the call of duty fell on deaf years. It was thus that my letter of resignation began with "I beg to advise you that I am unable to continue in your employment..." and ended with "Yours faithfully". The irony was lost on them.
I am irked no end by Emails and postings in Facebook showing "Proud grand parents" with the hapless newborn. For god's sake one should be proud when one has achieved something worthwhile. What exactly did the grand parents do to get a grandchild? Other than nagging their poor daughter / daughter-in-law to beget a child to keep up the family honour - Family Honour! Or badgering sixty four million Hindu deities resident in historic towns - or even in the illegal street corner temple that sprang up last year - for the favour?
Proud? Why? What did the poor little bawling, squirming thing do except get out of a dark prison that was quickly getting too small for it? Yes, the poor girl who had to support the little one inside for 10 months and then has to do it lifelong outside, she has something to be proud of as we have of her. Even the father of the little one, for having put up with "the hormones" for ten long months and who has to endure interrupted sleep for ten more, even he has something to be proud of. Parents of the new mother can justifiably be proud of their daughter for all the hardship she has already endured and which probably has just begun.
One can be happy that the birth happened without any glitches or complications. One can even be happy at the baby's good looks although the matter of looks in newborns is highly exaggerated. All newborns look like newborns and do not rank very high in the looks department. That happens later. Some are happy that they now have an heir for their (dubious) legacy. One can be genuinely happy that the girl's ordeal of pregnancy with all its manifold risks is finally over. That relief is justifiable as is the resultant happiness.
I am all too aware that this rant notwithstanding, my phone lines are going to get jammed and my email boxes are going to overflow with messages congratulating me on the birth of a grandchild. I am going to be labelled a proud grandparent.
Let me assure everyone that I am a proud parent (for what my children have achieved in their young lives) and will be given many more reasons to be proud. The grandchild might even make me proud by reciting something aged two - Vishnu Shahasranamam is a Tambram favourite. Calculating the mass of Higgs Boson a la Homer Simpson, might do it for me.
For the moment, though, my pride is where it rightfully belongs - my daughter.
PS: The grandchild was born later that night!! (updated 3rd May 2020)
No comments:
Post a Comment
Note: only a member of this blog may post a comment.