To punish or not to punish

I was enlightened in a most unusual way the other day. I was helping my 11-year-old nephew with his homework and discovered that the young ones these days are practically getting away with ‘murder’.
Going through his work books, I noticed he had on several occasions, skipped doing some of his work. I did notice, however, that the teacher had gone on to mark the other pages which he had completed and did not give much thought to the work he had not finished.
On investigating further, I discovered that the teacher apparently did not punish students who did not finish their homework; neither did she try to contact the parents to let them know what their child was up to in school – no phone calls, no notes, and no invitations to have a parent-teacher chat.
Maybe my nephew gets away with such things because on the whole, he’s a very bright student and always does well in his exams or maybe the teacher is afraid in general of dealing with over-protective parents.
When I queried my sister about this, she said that the teachers in her son’s school have an attitude of “It’s up to the students whether they want to finish their work or not”.
I’m not saying that all teachers are like that but when parents have a tough time getting their children to do their work, they harbour a hope that a stern teacher would be able to instil some fear in the kids.
Now, things were absolutely different when I was in school. Woe betides the kid who did not finish his homework. Each incomplete work meant punishment and it would vary from a stroke of cane on the palm of your hand, a pinch on the forearm, standing up on the chair/table throughout the entire period, picking up rubbish during break time, not being allowed to go out during recess, a point demerit, having to stay back after school to clean the board and sweep the floor or simply a sound scolding that would leave us on the verge of tears.
And if that was not enough, habitual offenders would have the pleasure of having their parents notified and this meant another punishment when we got home.
I have fond memories of school and the whole package deal that came with it, and no, I did not escape punishment either, but it helped me become a better person – a more disciplined person. Rather than have to stand on the chair (which can be quite embarrassing when you are in the upper form), we preferred to finish our work on time and even helped each other because we did not want to see any of our friends being punished either.
We also learnt to behave ourselves when there was no teacher around because all the students in a noisy class were punished even if were only one or two who were misbehaving.
Those were the days when you could see an entire class doing laps around the field in the hot blazing sun or gawk at an entire class standing on chairs.
But did these punishments turn us into bitter persons who walked around with guns and blew people away? Did it make us vengeful and slash the teachers’ car tires or did we go around painting graffiti on the walls? Did it leave us emotionally unstable or have a dire effect on us psychologically? No, it did not. In fact, a majority of my classmates ended up as teachers, nurses and social workers. Most of us ended up in the care-giving profession. Why did this happen? It is because we believed in, and were thankful for, the discipline that we received from those teachers who cared enough to punish us. We learnt what caring was all about even if we had to learn it the hard and painful way.
So maybe before we decide whether or not to punish our kids, we should look back at our childhood and see the person that we have become today and then we can ask ourselves – to punish or not to punish?

A God of Reason

It is quite normal to hear someone attributing his success to his hard work, his devoted wife, his understanding family etc and if God is lucky, He gets mentioned somewhere along the way.
However, guess who tops the list whenever tragedy strikes? That’s when everyone remembers God, and we hear things like, “Why God? Why me? Why did you let this happen?”
Some people believe that God has a wicked sense of humour. With all this unnecessary pain and suffering which often seems to befall innocent people, especially young children, can one be blamed for harbouring uncharitable thoughts about God?
Yes indeed. What did these children do to deserve such punishment of losing their families, of losing their homes, of having such a bleak future? Why make them suffer Lord?
I mean, which God in His right mind would want to impose such pain, misery and suffering on His beloved people? It’s enough to make a person wonder whether God really exists.
I don’t claim to be a philosopher, neither am I a theologian, but I have always believed that God has a reason for everything. Yes, even the worst of sufferings – even if it is something that we cannot accept or comprehend.
I was rather disturbed to read an article in a magazine recently where after highlighting a few tragedies, the writer wondered out aloud if God really existed. The writer claimed that if God was who we all believed Him to be, then surely He would not have allowed such things to happen.
I don’t know whether the writer is an atheist, a free thinker or belongs to any particular religion but I was saddened to think that an individual could come to such a conclusion just because the world does not happen to be a place of ‘blue skies and everything nice’.
Of course, all of us have this dream of living in a beautiful world that is filled only with laughter, happiness and joy. No one wants to have to endure misery, pain or loss of any kind.
Can there possibly be such a thing as a ‘suffering-free’ world? The answer lies with us. We are the ones who can learn to love one another and treat one another with respect, thus putting an end to war. We are the ones who can put safety before greed to ensure that buildings are safe to live in. We are the ones who can abide by simple rules and common sense and prevent boats and ferries from capsizing due to overloading. We are the ones who can learn to be patient and careful drivers on the road and reduce the number of fatal accidents. We are the ones who can upkeep our moral and religious values and stop all the murders, thefts, rapes and unnecessary abortions. We are the ones who can learn to respect and value life – ours and that of others. The list goes on … but the end result is the same – it is all up to us.
God did not give human beings the brains or the ability for advancement only to see us destroying each other through carelessness, greed, a lack of empathy or a simple egoistic need to exercise our superiority over others. So why blame God? Maybe there is a lesson behind each suffering.
Tragedies sometimes elicit different responses from different people. The atheist will angrily protest: “There is no God indeed! If there were one, this should not have happened!”
The lukewarm believer will lament in despair: “God, my God, why did You allow this to happen!”
Finally, the one who has placed his complete trust in God will pray calmly: “Lord, I accept this. You have Your reasons for allowing this to happen.”
Without God, suffering is unbearable. When someone suffers, he is being given the opportunity to experience the greatness and the merciful love of God. When we look at suffering in this way, then it becomes, not a burden, but a privilege.

Queen of Procrastination

If anyone knows about procrastination, it’s me. I do believe that I am the undisputed Queen of Procrastination but hey, it has somehow worked wonderful miracles for me.
During my college days, we were always given two types of assignments throughout the academic year. One would be the numerous weekly assignments and the other, THE major assignment which would be a contributing factor for our grades. The major assignment would be given well in advance to enable us to do the necessary research, and we would only have to hand it in close to the final exams.
As usual, I would put it aside (out of sight, out of mind) and would only frantically work on it a day or two before the deadline. My poor neighbours must have gone crazy listening to me pound away at my typewriter (no, not computer) at such unearthly hours. Somehow I always managed to get excellent grades for my assignments much to the chagrin of my more hardworking classmates who had slogged for months on theirs.
I guess I belong to that category of people who can only produce their best under tremendous pressure.
My poor mum has had her share of “I’ll get down to it …” whenever it comes to helping around the house. From her vast experience, she knows that the clothes will remain unfolded, the floor unmapped, the windows unwashed, the curtains and cushion covers unchanged if she does not do it herself or tricks me into doing it.
Somewhere in my room there’s a closet which has yet to be opened because I have yet to organise and rearrange the contents so that it will not come tumbling down the minute the doors are opened. The collection of magazines in my room remains untouched and are quietly gathering dust because I have not quite got down to clipping those interesting articles and filing them away for future reference.
When my good friend Amarjit got married, I could not make it for the wedding but promised that I would meet up with the newly-weds. Now a mother of two school-going children, Amarjit has given up hope that I would actually turn up on her doorstep one fine day.
The battle of wills between me and the exercise machine still continues despite the fact that it has been placed in a strategic position where I never fail to see it.
But of course procrastination has its downs as well. Yup, I have been putting off getting married and now I’m at the point in my life when all the ‘nice’ guys are no longer available. They’re engaged, married or joined the priesthood.
But have I learnt my lesson? Nooo … former colleagues are wondering whether I’m still alive or not as I have yet to fulfil my promise of meeting up with them.
The correspondence school which I joined more than a year ago is still waiting for my first assignment.
The brand new journal which I bought at the beginning of the year and which was meant to be filled with my personal reflections is still brand new and unused.
The book which I promised myself I’d start writing someday still remains just that – a promise.
Sometimes I wonder if this procrastination will ever end. Is there a cure for it? Guess I could do something about it. Yes, I will definitely do something about it. I think I’ll get down to it …. Tomorrow.

Slogans of Life

Ever wondered why people wear T-shirts with slogans or place stickers on their cars? Personally, I think it’s for my benefit. I do believe that the Man Upstairs has given up on me ever reading deep theological books or immersing myself in meditation. He knows too well that I’ve been getting my inspiration by reading T-shirts and bumper sticker slogans. That’s why never a day passes without my having a slogan filled T-shirt clad person thrust in my face, whether it’s on my way to work or going back home. And the minute I happen to glance out the window while sitting in the bus, that’s when a car with a conscience-pricking sticker happens to pass by.
Since I have been known to try many new diets (unsuccessfully), I naturally noticed this T-shirt wisecrack: The body is fuelled by the four basic food groups: Chocolate Candy, Chocolate Brownies, Chocolate Ice-Cream and Chocolate Milk Shake. Unfortunately, that IS my kind of fuel.
But then there was the t-shirt that boasted: Veni, Vidi, Vegi: I came, I saw, I had a salad. And the most inspirational of all bragged: Bless me Lord, for I have thinned.
Switching from food to friendship, I love the message: A true friend remembers your birthday … but not which one it is.
How fortunate I am to have so many kind and forgetful friends who just happened to forget my most recent birthday.
I like this one too: Please Lord, let me PROVE to you that winning the lottery will make me a better person.
Couples will find this one amusing as well: Marriages are made in heaven, but so are thunder and lightning!
Today I saw a greeting card with this message: God uses broken things. Broken soil produces a good crop, broken clouds shower down refreshing rain, broken grain makes hearty loaves of bread and bread broken with family and friends turns into a communion of love and sharing.
What a reassuring and hopeful thought for a person who has a broken hair dryer, a broken vacuum cleaner, broken resolutions, and yes, even a broken heart. We may live with our brokenness but we know that God will use that to make us whole. And we also know that no matter how many times we break our resolutions, God will never break His promises. Now isn’t that the most inspiring slogan of all?

Thankful for little things

I’m sure most of us would have at one time or another had this thought, “If only I could learn to write my life in pencil so I could erase the mistakes!”
Since we most certainly can’t, then perhaps we should do the next best thing – write our life not in pencil but in hilarious golden phrases that would inspire us to laugh at our blunders and grow from our mistakes. We should lean to blend a little rain with a little sunshine, thereby creating a rainbow. These are some of the lessons of life that I have begun to learn and appreciate.
Each time I find myself wallowing in self-pity or complaining that life is so unfair, I just have to take a look at the newspapers to see that there are others who are a hundred times worse off than me. Next to them, my problems and complaints seem tiny and trivial. At least I still have a roof over my head, three square meals a day, clothes to wear and a bed to sleep in at night.
But, what about those who have recently lost their livelihood or their loved ones? What about those who have been forced to abandon their homes and even their homeland and who now face a life of insecurity? What about all those people whose lives are at risk just because someone has decided to go on an ethnic-cleansing spree?
How can I be selfish and gripe about how little I have when I see pictures of refugees, especially innocent children, with outstretched hands reaching out for a tiny piece of bread? How often have I spent sleepless nights thinking about my future, when some people don’t know for sure if they have a future and are just thankful that they are able to live through another day.
Have I ever thanked God for the countless blessings that He has showered on me or am I guilty of failing to see the little joys of life that I have been blessed with but instead focus only on what I have not received?
Are my daily prayers filled with phrases that begin with “Give me, I want, I need”, when there are many who pray for nothing more than a chance to lead a safe, secure and peaceful life.
And finally, have I ever, in the midst of my self-centred life, taken time off to say a little prayer for others?

Are we ruled by rules?

Once upon a time, we didn’t bother with what people said or did. We had our own identity. We were totally unafraid. That was the best gift of youth. We made do and created our sense of fun. It was we who set the trends. It was we who decided what was ‘cool’ and what was not. We were the masters of our fate and the whole world stepped aside as we walked by. Then we had to grow up. We got our jobs and our promotions. We became part of the crowd and we lost our identity.
There was a ‘correct’ way of doing things and ‘rules’ had to be followed. Image became of paramount importance. The rules soon became a way of life – almost an obsession. If we did not follow the rules, we did not belong, we became outcasts.
The correctness of things meant knowing which cutlery to use at which time – which dress to use for which occasion. There was no two ways about it. We had to conform although we would have felt more comfortable in a t-shirt and jeans than in a cocktail dress. How many friendships were strained because a friend chose to launch into her ‘save the animals’ pitch during a party you were hosting. That very party which you were sure would impress the boss enough to consider you for the promotion.
How many romances were nipped in the bud because he just refused to wear a necktie to functions or she did not want to follow age-old traditions and please his mother.
I am not saying that ‘rules’ are not good. We need guidance, that is why the rules are there. But the rules should not restrict our individuality or force us to abandon our non-conformist friends.
Rules have a way of turning rigid and forcing us to abandon our identity as persons. Is that how we want to end up as – just another statistic, just another face in the crowd?

Coming of Age

My best friend just turned 40 last month and instead of lamenting about old age and worrying that she now has more grey hair and wrinkles, she viewed this coming of age quite positively and exclaimed excitedly how in 10 years time she will be eligble for senior citizen privileges.
Not many of us are this optimistic about our advancement in age or can accept the fact that we will soon be past our prime. We resort to all kinds of measures in the hope that our youth will somehow be frozen in time. I too am in my 40s now and I have come to view the world in a different light. Yes I do admit that I was initially upset when once upon a time, I was referred to as Miss but now I'm being called 'Aunty'. I told myself that instead of wasting time trying to recapture my lost youth, I should instead make the most of this new 'era' which I have embarked on.
Now my priorities have changed. Where once I dressed for style even if meant wearing killer heels (no not killer looking heels, but heels that would kill your back!), now I go for comfort. Where once I always ensured that I held my tummy in and chest out to enhance my figure, now I have taken a more relaxed, albeit comfortable posture. Handbags? No more the tiny ones where you could only fit in a lipstick, but the large, roomy ones where I can fit in an umbrella (in case it rains), a book (for the long boring waits) and in my bag you would probably find all kinds of medications - migrane tablets, inhaler, medicated oil, a band-aid etc. Yes ... its practically that counts, not mindless stuff that's there just because its trendy.
Where my looks are concerned, I accept the fact that I have grey hair and do have a couple more wrinkles on my face but I think it gives me character. Now instead of idolising 20-something actresses, I admire the dignified beauty of Helen Mirren, Susan Saradon, Meryl Streep, Diane Keaton and all the other lovely ladies over 40.
Now instead of working late nights and slogging away in the office every day just because I want that promotion, I have learnt to take it easy and prioritise what is important in my life. I have started doing all the things which I have been meaning to do but never got round to it coz I was too busy. I have reconnected with my old friends, I have time to enjoy my reading, time to work on my writing (this blog is proof) and most importantly, I have time for myself and my family.
So people, remember that life is too short, so stop and take time to smell the roses okay.