for kids........... by kids ! A festival of caring.

Last night, many kids went around neighborhoods to be Tricked or Treated. For the past few weeks, those celebrating this 'Pagan' festivity unpacked and shopped, decorating - as strange as the word seems in this context - front yards, doorways and patios. To the lay onlooker these skeletons and witches seemed unwelcoming and even scary. The artistic carved pumpkins and prepared to light them up with carefully inserted candles. My husband, ever curious, ruminated about the reason behind such negative overtones in a celebration involving children.

The night dawned and I was coerced into overseeing the trip around our neighborhood. In the damp, dark night, one could easily feel scared even without the spooky lights and symbols around. The kids quickly collected treats house after house. Finally, we were at the spookiest, scariest, eeriest.... (feel free to add any other scary adjectives here !)... house. These people had really gone all out to scare people. I decided to stick close to the kids. The witch at the end could be seen moving - he was real ! The home-owner had even bothered to dress up ! I heard him instruct the kids to walk through the pathway. As we approached, I could almost touch the "vampire" hanging from the tree in front. Then I passed a fake witch. Hurricane Sandy had not done any damage here. Now, smoke was billowing out of something on the left, scary noises buzzed from hidden speakers. At the far end, the 'witch' was handing out treats generously and warning the kids not to be afraid of the scary thingummy-gigs that popped up even as we stood there forgetting to breathe. I had just seen the light.

Back home, I excitedly reasoned that the dark, cold weather with bare trees and dry leaves could easily scare people, especially kids. But that night, the kids had been taught a lesson. They had been the scary ones and they had gained treats by being brave and seeing the fakes for what they really were. Happy Halloween !

Where a year passes by in a jiffy !

Whether it was Rip Van Winkle’s long sleep, or Penelope’s long wait for Odysseus, or our own Lord Ram’s banishment for 14 years, it seemed an impossibly long time and I could hardly imagine so many years as a child or teenager.  That was, of course, much before I moved to the middle-east. 

Wahiba Sands, Oman

Ibn Battuta mall, Dubai

While Oil-rig workers work 28-day cycles, and those in the merchant navy work 6-month shifts, those in the middle-east go home once a year. In this part of the world, one sees more often than not, the circumstantial “bachelor”.  Either due to constraints at work, or different needs of the family, men from all over the world leave their families behind. While, these men, without doubt, selflessly resign themselves to a life of loneliness,  my sympathies lie with the wives and children who almost run single-parent households. The poor blue-collar worker is begrudged a homeward return ticket only every other year.  On the other hand, many families enjoy the luxuries afforded by the precious family visa, driving around in luxury cars, discovering hidden delights in Arabian sands and flying home for a month-long trip home every year.

Amidst these inequalities, my wonder is about how a year can fleet so quickly by!