Raising a Father Book Blog

{What a day at work!}

2011-08-10T07:24:00.002-06:00

I have been looking forward to August 9th and August 10th, as I was scheduled to do a focus group in town. These are long days starting at 8am and going until 9pm with me on my toes, moderating customer feedback. But the reason I was looking forward to these particular focus groups was because Raka was to work with me for the entire day, on both days. I simply could not wait for this to start. The evening before the groups, I went out snack shopping for Raka. It reminded me of the snacks she loves for lunch and it was my way of reliving her high school days.

When Tuesday morning finally arrived, Raka was ready, looking professional as ever and ready to rock the world. She was her usual confident self and cautious at the same time, as these are important clients of ours.

Most of the clients she would be with that day have been in our lives since my corporate days at Pizza Hut. It was during that time, on a September morning, Raka was born. Hence most of the clients present knew Raka from the time she was a baby, but today she was there to assist me as I moderated the groups. Wow, how time flies.

I hit the first roadblock when on the way to the facility, we were stuck in a bad traffic jam. Raka immediately came to the rescue. "Dad, exit here." she said, "Then turn right and then left on Hampden," and sure enough we were on our way. Of course it does not take much from Raka to impress me, but with her navigating and with me following her directions, it was the first sweet moment of the day.

The work day was simply amazing. It was wonderful to see Raka interact with my clients as she jumped at every opportunity to help. In between groups when I was taking a break she had a big smile on her face, every time I saw her. Then she would whisper to me, and remind me to eat and stay well nourished. I used the first break I got in-between groups to brag to my clients about Raka's accomplishments, especially about her being nominated for Top 40 under 40 by Advertising Age magazine when she was only 13. Normally these focus group days are long and tiring, but each of the moments with Raka made the long day go by fast.

As we drove back home that night, Raka was tired after her first 12 hour + work day. I was too, but I realized that the days like these do not come too often. Wednesday will be another day with Raka, another enchanting memory with my princess. After this, whenever I will moderate focus groups on my own, I will remember every moment from these two days and cherish the memories we are creating now.

I love you Raka.

{Monopoly Then and Monopoly Now}

2011-08-02T21:00:00.003-06:00

Raka loved playing Monopoly when she was a kid. I was not sure if she still loved Monopoly till last weekend when she invited me to play it with her. I was excited. Soon we had the board spread out on the floor and the two of us were surrounded with cash, property, and cards flying everywhere.

Within a few minutes of starting the game I was lucky enough to have both Park Place and Boardwalk. It was clear from Raka's expression that she wanted them badly, but being the property dealer, she handed over the property cards to me. Soon after that I built hotels on those properties, and the second time Raka landed on the property, she looked at me and said, "Guess the game is over. You won, Dad."

As Raka and I cleared the Monopoly board and put all the pieces back in the box, I looked at Raka and realized that she is not a baby any more. Earlier she was not happy to lose, and would try really hard to win. Today she plays to win, but she did not define the game with a win or loss.

As I was putting the Monopoly box away I remembered a game of Monopoly with Raka when she was seven years old. My parents were visiting from India and my mom, Raka, and I were playing the game as my dad sat next to us reading a book. Raka was not having a good game and between the intensity of my mom and me, the poor girl was having a tough time and I suddenly realized that she was not enjoying the game. She was simply going through the rituals. Even the way she was rolling the dice was halfhearted, but she was still sitting with us and playing. Just looking at her made me feel bad.

I invited Raka to the next room and asked her how she would feel if she was winning instead. Her eyes lit up, but then she said right away, "But Dad, I have no money and cannot win." I told her not to worry as I had a plan. Quickly I wrote a handwritten contract, which stated that Raka and I were merging our businesses and she was the new owner. To make things official, I went to my dad and asked him to sign the contract as the commissioner. Now she was excited. Of course when we got back to the game and revealed our contract, my mom protested strongly against the "un-gamely contract," but Raka could not be stopped. She was fully into the game now. Soon she was collecting rent, increasing her property values, and eventually won the game. That night, before she went to bed, she gave me a big hug and said "I won Dad. Thank you."

Of course after Raka went to bed, I got lectures from my mom for not playing by the rules and not being a good example to my daughter. But I just did not care. To me the fun of the game was defined by seeing Raka smile – I just could not stand seeing her sad. I argued with my mom that these contracts are very common in real life and soon Monopoly would incorporate them.

Raka is not that same Raka today. After I put the game board away, a teenage Raka gave me a hug before she went to bed. I thought about that game ten years back and today's game. Surprisingly, I was not happy to have won today's game. In fact I was sad it was over. I wished it went on longer so that I could enjoy my game with Raka even more. With her going off to school, these opportunities won’t come often and I want to enjoy each of them. A longer game is better than a short game that I win. Earlier she used to beg me to play with her; now it is going to be my turn to plead with her for a game.

I love you, Raka.

{High School Graduation: Then and Now}

2011-07-26T22:00:00.000-06:00

The year was 1982. I had just graduated from High School and my eye was single to just one University, the Indian Institute of Technology, Kharagpur. There were five IIT campuses at the time with a common entrance exam to get into those. When my name was selected out of all those who took the IIT exam, I was beyond thrilled. I still vividly remember my rank among those who took the exam: 1,363rd. With age, I may not remember very many things from the past, but I vividly remember that day. 1,363rd was my freedom number. It marked my taking control of my life and being ready to leave home. I do not know where my confidence came from to feel like I could survive alone in the world outside, but I felt ready. When I think back, my enthusiasm was a combination of me running from home and me wanting to experience a new world outside, both happening at the same time. I had no fear; I had no idea what I should be afraid of. My parents did not give me a big lecture; it was left to me to choose my path in life.

Raka graduated from High School . She is all set to go to NYU. She does not have a number ranking as I did, but if she had one it would surely be better than mine. As I see her celebrating with friends and living up every moment of her last days in High School, I can also see the overflowing excitement in her. It is the same excitement I felt in 1982.

I am, of course, scared. The world today is a tougher place than the world I jumped into. All I had to do to be safe in college was to stay away from the group in A-Top. The A-Top was a corner wing of our building where eight to ten students lived who were allegedly into drugs. Once I learned how to stay away from them, my life was full of friends, sports, debates, plays, and yes, academics.

I do not know the exact complexities of the life of a high school student or college freshman now, but I know that it is way more complex and tough than it was for me to just avoid the A-Top. It feels like life allowed me a bigger field to play in, with huge margins of error. For Raka, the playing field is much smaller with the margins of error significantly more narrow.

Of course as I write this, I am torn between trusting and worrying. Raka has earned my trust with her actions time and time again, but I cannot help but worry about her.

So Raka... relax, breathe, and enjoy the moment. As I keep telling you, the best is yet to come. Love you baby!

{Affairs in a Marriage}

2011-07-19T21:00:00.001-06:00

In the last few years, there have been quite a few instances where the topic of "affairs in a marriage" has come up in discussions with my friends. The discussion usually follows one of three directions:

1. Shared blame: In this perspective, couples view the affair as a mutual fault. It is not just the fault of the person who had the affair. Both partners must look back at the void created in a relationship which sets the stage for a third person to enter the relationship. Instead of only blaming the person who had an affair, the other partner looks at his or her role in the marriage as well, examining how it might have possibly contributed to the onset of an affair.

2. No Big Deal: This perspective comes from couples who support open marriages. Even though this is a small group, this group is quite passionate about their belief that marriage is a partnership where open connections with others takes the stress off each other. They believe it strengthens the relationship in the process.

3. Die Mr. Bond!: This perspective is taken by the spouse not involved in the affair. The blame is one sided. There is anger, hurt, and disbelief. Even though it is not admitted openly, the desire to get even with the betraying party exists deep within.

I do not know the right way to approach this situation.

Talking about Arnold Schwarznegger's affair with friends, I realized his take was totally different than mine.When one takes a job, one must be committed to the job and understand the consequence of failure. If you hire a baby sitter for three hours, you expect all three hours he or she will attend to your child. It does not matter if your baby sitter has to go to the bathroom or make a phone call, the expectation remains that he or she still has the responsibility to watch the child.

The same rule applies in a marriage with children. One must understand the commitment he or she has made to the children. The individual should not undermine the consequence of failure by thinking that he or she can most likely get away with it. In fact, by talking to a lot of parents, I learned a simple rule that helps one be in the present and make the right decision. It is,

“Behave in the same way away from your spouse as you do when you are around them. That way you have nothing to hide and no worries about getting caught.”

I believe that each of us act differently in various situations. Our actions are driven by different reasons. For example, it is not that I do not like to drive faster than the speed limit. We all know it can be fun. However, I do not know if it is the adrenaline rush I get from speeding that is more tempting or the feeling of control I have by knowing I can possibly prevent myself from getting caught due to my car radar. Either way, one day I did the math and I woke up. I realized the consequence of getting caught is not something that I want to risk. There were a lot of reasons for this, but the biggest one was that I needed to be a good role model to my daughter, Raka.

I also realized that I was not smart enough to guarantee that I would not get caught. As a result, I automatically committed to a more mature lifestyle. I am still keenly aware of my temptations to drive faster than the speed limit but now I always have a plan to overcome this temptation.

This evolution of self did not come because I think speeding is wrong. It was a result of wanting to be more mature, and understanding the bigger picture of life.

I completely realize the temptation for an affair can be a much, much stronger urge than the temptation to speed. However, having a plan of action ahead of time in either case is what makes the difference.

{What happens after she goes to college?}

2011-07-13T21:00:00.000-06:00

How will I stay in touch with Raka after she leaves for college? Our connection is strong today. Though, when we are apart, we don’t connect very often. An occasional brief text message or phone call is all we usually exchange, and those occasions are only when she shares something amazing that she has done. The good thing is our time apart is normally followed by time together where I cook her favorite meal and we enjoy dinner together. There are also times when she cooks for me – I truly cherish those meals.

Other times we both sit in our designated areas in the living room, she in the futon and me on the couch, and we watch an episode of the Big Bang Theory or Two and a Half Men on DVR. (Although we recently had to drop Two and Half Men as it got more sexually explicit and I simply could not handle it.) We are quiet, but we can laugh and watch together. Even loading or emptying the dishwasher becomes great when we can do it together.

Come September, the connections we share with the occasional messages will be sparse.

On one hand, I am excited about her going to NYU and starting her journey as a new adult. On the other hand, I have to admit I am struggling as I think about how to continue our strong connection from a distance.

It feels like it was just yesterday that I was at her very first graduation at montessori. It also feels like it was just earlier in the day when I attended her middle school graduation. Time flew fast and every moment was a blast. Even though I can try to put on a brave face and say I will not miss her, it is simply not true. I will truly miss my baby girl who has become my dear friend.

I am also sure that the connection that we share will evolve into something even sweeter so that I can cheer her on from a distance. For those of you who read the blog, do not worry. I will continue to find things to celebrate in my baby girl’s life and keep writing with the pride and love that only a die-hard fan can feel.

{7 Things I Did Right As A Dad}

2011-06-20T19:55:00.001-06:00

Another Father's Day has come and gone. Between Hallmark cards, golf and grilling stuff, or t-shirts that say "Best Dad", everyone was in a frenzy to buy something for dad. To capture this frenzy, both online and offline publications published a "Best Father's Day Gifts” list, like NYC’s PopSugar Inc. list. Most of the lists are nearly the same, but during my search I came across a site that was a little different. Squidoo.com offered gift suggestions like all the other sites, but before their list they put the concept of Father's Day in perspective for us all.

Here is the text from their site that touched me: "Children blessed with a loving father should consider themselves very lucky and take advantage of Father’s Day to connect more closely with Dad. Dad always pulled through when you needed him and Father’s Day is a time to thank him for taking care of their needs and interests while growing up. We all owe a big thank you to our loving Dads."

A hug from Raka and her thoughts – full, sincere, deep, and from the bottom of her heart – touch me, I don’t need external validation. I believe that true judging comes from inside. Some of you will remember when I wrote about how past mistakes cannot be undone by being present today. I was very hard on myself then. Today I still feel that emotion, but at the same time, as Raka gets close to leaving for NYU in fall, I feel proud of the dad I have been to her.

Life is not about perfection, and I am not the perfect dad. However, I have no regrets about the past ten years of my life as a dad. I look back at some of the defining moments. In every one of them I had help from someone. Despite having help, I still give myself credit for listening and acting. On this Father’s Day I reflected on some of the defining moments in my life as a dad:

1. Responding to the most important wake-up call in my life: In 2001, when Raka told me that I did not know her, it was easy to ignore her. Instead, I realized the dad in me had to step up as I could not break her little heart any more. Quitting my corporate job was considered by many as a CLM (career limiting move) but today I realize I needed to make that CLM in order to live the best life possible, to be the best dad possible.

2. Acting responsibly through the divorce: Just like in any divorce, Raka's mom and I were tempted to say nasty things about each other during our separation. Wisdom from my brother taught me my relationship with Raka's mom was ending, hence I had no business giving her feedback or trying to change her during the divorce. (Especially, after I had failed to do so during the marriage.) For those of you who know me personally, you know keeping quiet is not easy for me but I did it anyway. I found though, keeping quiet also came with a price, as the community around me took my silence as consent to all the accusations that were being hurled at me. Even through the pain, I found something bigger. I got in touch with the dad in me who was proud he was doing something to protect his daughter.

3. Understanding Raka's plight growing up in a divided home: Growing up in a divorced household is not easy. I saw this most clearly the day Raka reminded me she never wanted two homes and how tough it is to live in two homes during the same week. I have tried to empathize with her and cut her some slack because of this. Looking at the bigger picture, I have always known being a dad is not a popularity contest. Therefore, finding a balance of being empathetic for her situation while still being the dad was important in life.

4. Being firm, assertive and true to beliefs: Over time, as Raka and I grew confident in our connection, I have not hesitated to exert myself on issues where I felt the boundaries were being crossed. A big part of this came from a statement Raka made to me when she was five. I was mad at her for something and told her that she was a bad girl. In reaction to this, little Raka told me I was wrong. She was not bad. Rather, she was a good girl but her actions at the time were not good. Wow! This perspective of good and bad was one of the biggest things I’ve learned from all of these experiences.

5. As times together grow less and less, it is important to appreciate the times more: I have to confess, as Raka went through her senior year this year, I got less one-on-one time with her. A part of me did complain inaudibly, but it made me appreciate our time together even more.

6. Take a step back and enjoy watching her in the background of her life: To truly appreciate Raka, I had to see her in the background of her life. Seeing her rescue Model UN in her high school, being the constant cheer leader to her running buddies, the way she dashed out of the house when a friend of hers was in trouble, or the caring nurturing way she took her grandpa on a trip to California... all helped me appreciate my daughter even more.

7. Truly respect her as a budding adult and my friend: Respect to me is a big thing and I had to give Raka respect in order to earn it back. Respect does not mean bending over backwards and letting her do whatever she wants. To me, respect is how we interacted. I made sure I respected her when I was being assertive and holding her accountable. As a result, we have evolved as friends, as true buddies. This evolution happened over time and only when I could take a step back from being a dad. The timing for this transition was critical as being a friend too early would have been a disaster and being just a dad all the time would have alienated her.

As I write reflect on these moments, hindsight takes over. Based on this I know I could do a few things differently, but I am resisting the temptation for now as I am proud of the dad I have been thus far. The journey ahead is totally different. I am a little unsure on how to proceed, but I am sure the dad in me will figure it out. I am also sure that being dad will continue to be the most defining role in my life in the years ahead.

I love you Raka! Thank you!

{Is Raka Perfect?}

2011-05-03T21:00:00.004-06:00

I know Raka will freak out when she even reads the title of this post. A lot of you who have read the book have asked me if Raka is perfect. The reason for that is that book does not have any stories of her messing up.

First of all I have to assure you all that Raka is just like any other seventeen year old who is excited to finish high school and ready to leave for college. During middle school and high school Raka had her fair share of “goofy” moments. Yes there were times I grounded her. Also I have to admit that there were times I grounded her for what she thought was the wrong reason. We argued and if I did not yield, she stubbornly stated that I was mean to ground her for no good reason. In most of these occasions when she felt she was justified, she was more right than wrong. There Raka, I said it.

I have always tried to set boundaries and consequences before issues arise, that way we both know what the boundaries are before they are broken. Just like a police officer who stops you for speeding is simply following the laws and consequences for breaking the law. He/she can use personal judgment, but the law and consequences are predetermined. For me, that made it easier to be nice to her, even when she was in trouble and had to be grounded as a result.

Raka taught me this very important principle of being nice in moments of punishment when she was just five years old. She had made some mistake and I said something to the effect, “Bad Raka.”

Raka in turn told me, “Dad, I am not bad. I am never bad. My actions were not good.” Yes Raka, I got it. Since then, as and when her actions have not been good, there were no easy outs, but she was always a good kid and I always enjoyed showing love to my princess.

Now, some of you may be curious about the nature of Raka’s goofing up. None of them were serious. For a first generation immigrant dad, who did not go to high school here, I am relieved that she is graduating from high school with a lot of friends, proud of her accomplishments, and excited to go to college at NYU. As I started writing the book and the blog, I made a pact with Raka: I will not write about anything that embarrasses or hurts her. Hence you will see that the book and the blog do not talk about Raka’s goofs nor about things that cause her pain (e.g. the divorce), as reading about it and reliving it will only cause her more pain.

Today a world of opportunity awaits her and she is excited to face it with open arms. Of course just like any other parent I am worried about her living in NYC, as I myself have never lived in a big city. My daughter stepping into a world that is unknown to me is kinda worrisome.

Though my head is full of worry, my heart is simply full of belief that Raka is ready to go out and take care of herself in the world outside. I am relying on all your prayers and good wishes to help Raka be the best she can be in all aspects of her life. May the mishti-hashi (sweet smile) that she is special for be there with her forever.

I love you Raka.

{Why didn’t my high school have a prom?}

2011-04-26T21:30:00.000-06:00

Last weekend I was in Dallas and reconnected with six of my high school classmates. The last time we saw each other was in 1982. To start with, this reunion was different from any other I have attended in the past. In other reunions I would meet old friends or classmates at a restaurant, enjoy a good meal, and talk in a big group for a few hours before we all went back to our busy lives. In Dallas we were there together for nearly one and half days. It helped me personally get to know my schoolmates again and made me realize how fortunate I was to grow up with them and have them as classmates at St. Lawrence High School.

There was something different about this group versus the friends I have made since my school days. As one of my classmates pointed out, “These are the most innocent of friendships. Growing up we did not judge each other, we were just friends.” So true. Life was simple. We did not need to wear masks in life. Since then, each of us has evolved and may be a little cautious in our expressions, but the small group that met in Dallas went back to our high school days. It made me realize that each of us has defined success in different ways throughout our lives.

I discovered that behind every person’s professional self was a passionate human being. We were all proud dads, our connections were warm and deep, and each in his own way wanted to make the world around him bigger and better.

As I flew back to Denver, I carried with me memories that made me realize how fortunate I was to grow up with these six cool dudes. Then I began to smile as I thought of the timing of this meet. Raka’s prom is this weekend and soon she will be finishing this chapter of her life, the life that I just revisited nearly thirty years later. Of course with Facebook, text messaging, and emails, she will not have to wait for thirty years to reconnect.

As I was writing this, Raka came in to show me a photo of her in her prom dress. She looked simply out of this world wearing it. I kept staring at the picture and visualizing what prom is or what it means. Last year, I was fortunate to be the chosen one to drive her and her friends on prom night. I am tempted to share her prom picture with you all, but I do not want to give away her surprise element before prom, so the photo must wait until next week.

Another thought put a smirk on my face. We did not have a prom growing up, as I went to an all-boys Jesuit school. Yes, we missed out on the prom fun, but what we had was priceless. I wish I hadn’t waited for thirty years to appreciate it.

{Is there anything called absolute trust?}

2011-04-19T21:54:00.002-06:00

As Raka gets ready to leave her high school years and gets ready for her college life as an adult in New York City, I am trying to see the emerging adult in her more than the child. Sometimes that is not easy for me, but I am trying.

Last weekend Raka was planning to attend a concert with her friends. She forewarned me that she would be late. She told me the name of the artist and what it was about, but with my limited knowledge of music and dance, that information went straight over my head. Raka noticed it. So when she got to the concert she sent me a picture using her iPhone of the details of her location. I was relieved. Raka assured me that she was with friends and was safe. She also agreed that if she needed me to pick her up, she would not hesitate to call me.

I was restless that evening. My mind was finding it tough to be at ease with the fact that my little baby has grown up and is making decisions on her own. I wanted to go back to the days when I drove her and her friends to a concert and sat at a Starbucks until it was over.

Late that night I got a text from Raka that they had left the concert. After a short visit to a friend’s place, she and another friend of hers came home. I was overjoyed to see her and her friend. It was close to midnight but I was ready to cook for the two girls. That night when I went to sleep I kept thinking, “Is there anything Raka could have done to make me feel more at ease tonight?” I do not think so.

Then why was I so restless?

I realized that I am going through a growth phase. I am the person not at ease with the world around me that is changing so fast. I am not yet at ease with my princess slowly approaching her 18 year mark and being in charge of her own life. But I realize that trust, especially with a child, can never be absolute. Children make errors, be it errors in judgment or just errors. As a parent I need to trust Raka, but I cannot give 100% of the control to her. There has to be a balance. And more important than anything else, I must simply enjoy the transition as I see her blossom.

Go Raka!

{Parenting After A Divorce}

2011-04-13T08:34:00.000-06:00

Raka’s mom and I have been divorced for nearly eight years now. Somehow we live on different planets and anytime we need to interact we follow some simple undefined rules. Instead of phone calls, let us go for voice mail. Instead of voice mail, let us go for emails.Of course that is convenient for Raka’s mom and me – we never have been forced to interact.

Things changed last week when Raka announced that she wanted to go to NYU before she finalized her college choice. She wanted both her mom and me to be with her on the trip.

I have to admit my first thought was “Whoa! Do we have to do it?” Of course that thought immediately translated into, “Wow, how do I do that?”

But Raka being Raka was not going to take our hesitation as a no, at least not this time. Before we realized, I had booked airline tickets for the three of us and Raka found two hotel rooms for us. We were ready to go to NYC with our daughter.

I have always talked about the importance of divorced parents working together for their child’s sake, just like business partners with a common dream. But this trip was different. This is where the rubber hit the road and any failure on either of our part would have left a painful, everlasting memory on our beloved Raka’s little heart.

The trip started with Raka’s mom and me both being cautious. She emailed me her frequent flier number, I checked us in, and Raka took her mom’s boarding pass to her. On the day of the trip, Raka got back from school and she and I dashed to the airport together. Raka called her mom as we drove and she was totally surprised when reported to me, “Guess what dad! Mom is already at the airport, two hours before the flight.” Then she went on to share how her mom had been excited the entire week before the trip and had even packed and was ready to travel a few days early.

Raka and I got to the airport and went to the gate to meet her mom. Her mom could not hide her excitement and very soon it turned into “all about Raka.” No words were exchanged between her mom and me. No subtle expressions of despair or frustrations were thrown in. Instead, two people were simply happy to be there to see the world through the bright smiling eyes of their daughter. Raka chose a restaurant and we went. Raka wanted pictures with both of us and she got it. Raka was simply on cloud 9. Finally when we boarded the flight, Raka was in the middle seat and dozed off immediately. Raka’s heads were on my shoulder and I was beaming with pride. It made me remember Raka as a baby and all her burp spots on my suit jackets. No, Raka was drooling. After some time, Raka switched positions and put her head next to her mom. Her mom gently ran her fingers through Raka’s hair and I realized that she too was waiting for the moment.

We landed in NYC late and immediately shared a cab to the hotel. The next morning we were up bright and early, ready to get to NYU.

Raka’s mom and I had no idea what we were to do that day. But as both were wearing sneakers, I guess we both knew that we would be doing a lot of running in and out, following our baby. We were in presentations, and then we rushed to get tours of the dorms, then more meetings and presentations. We both were relieved when we got half an hour to sit down and eat lunch. After lunch there was more running around until finally, at 5:30 Raka decisively informed us that she was done. She had all the information she needed to decide on NYU. Her mom and I were both impressed on how Raka maximized her time and used the day to get all the information.

That evening Raka decided that she was going to NYU. The reasoning behind her choice was as thorough as any of the business decisions she had made as President of Restaurant Marketing Group’s teen division. I captured the moment on my iPhone.

That evening we had dinner with one of Raka’s friends. By the time we were back in the hotel and I got to my room, I was glad to crawl into bed.

We woke up early the next morning and dashed to the airport. United Airlines gave me an upgrade to first class, and I asked Raka to take it instead. She looked at her mom and me inquisitively and said, “So you guys will be alone back there, without me?”

Raka boarded and went to her first class seat. She deserved a moment of limited indulgence. Her mom and I went to our seats which were in different rows. I guess our work together was done for the moment. I started looking at Raka’s picture and was so happy to see Raka’s eyes full of hope and happiness. I was so glad her mom and I could make the trip all about Raka. Nothing was planned. Nothing was said. But each of us felt true, unconditional love for Raka and nothing else mattered in front of that. I wanted to take the credit for starting the process, but I was honestly not sure who started it. Did it matter? What mattered was that both of us did it and Raka was truly happy and excited. We were both rewarded with a lifetime of memories of seeing Raka smile.

Good luck at NYU Raka. I have to admit that I am stressed and worried, but know you will be fine!

{I Still Can't Look, But She Sure Can!}

2011-04-05T22:00:00.002-06:00

All of us parents look at our children as babies. It’s a simple fact. Somehow it becomes tough for us to visualize them as grownups, even when they are!

Yesterday while playing golf my muscles cramped up and over the course of the evening it went from bad to worse. Today when I decided to go to In Motion Rehab (run by Mark Plaatjes who was a world marathon record holder in his running days), Raka decided to come to be with me.

Mark looked at my injury and diagnosed severe muscle stress and possible tears. Soon physical therapy began and Raka wanted to next to me during the process. When I looked at her with eyebrows raised, she said immediately, “You sit next to me when I am hurt, so I can sit here too.”

I was in too much pain to protest anything. As Mark started unweaving the tight muscles, I started feeling pain I have rarely felt before. At that instant Raka asked me to hold her hand. I did. Then she asked me to press her hand as tightly as I could. I did not understand the reason for this madness so she explained, “If you focus your energy here, then your lower body will be at ease and you will not feel the pain as much.”

I was amazed at Raka’s wisdom. I had no reason not to try and soon I realized Raka was right. Then I heard Mark’s voice asking “Arjun, do you have any issues with needles?”

Before I could respond two things happened: First Raka said, “I cannot stand needles,” second I felt the first needle hit my right calf muscle. The pain was excruciating, but I also have known Mark long enough to realize that he knew what he was doing and he was not going to stop.

My attention focused on Raka. I was glad she was scared of needles… I was too! Every time I have ever taken Raka for a shot, even when I was holding her as a small child, I had to look elsewhere when the needle went in. I cannot see shots or needles in action. She was truly my baby!

As I was indulging in these silly thoughts and after quite some time I realized Raka was still next to me. I could not believe she has not gone or become distracted. In fact she kept telling me ahead of time where the next needle would be. I simply could not believe that she was looking at the needles, but then she truly crossed the line.

“Dad, do you want me to take a picture so that you can see the needles?”

For once I had a determined and quick answer, “NO.” This needed no clarifier.

Soon the thought of Raka sitting next to me, evolved to a stage where I have never been able to get, overshadowed the pain of the needles. Somehow while holding her hands I dozed off. When I woke up, Raka was still holding my hands, but she was no longer my little baby. It seemed to me that she had grown into an adult while I dozed off.

But we all know the growing up did not happen during my snooze. So when did it happen? How did I miss it?

Or is it that I wanted to see my baby as a little baby?

I love you baby!

{NO CAMERAS PLEASE!}

2011-03-29T23:10:00.001-06:00

Raka has worked all through the winter on her running to get ready for her last track season in high school. Last week Raka was rewarded for all her hard work when she was selected to run for varsity. Raka was excited. A few days later she got the varsity uniform and her excitement hit a new peak.

“Dad, I am going to go to my room and change and come back.” She came back looking great in the uniform. What stood out more than the uniform though was her beaming smile. It was a simple expression, “Dad, I did it.” What I wanted to say was, “Look baby, you can do anything you set your mind to!” But that would have been too cliché and ruined the spontaneity of the moment.

That’s when Raka asked me, “Dad, please do not bring your camera to the race. You can take pictures with your cell phone but don’t bring your camera.”

I was taken by surprise. The more we talked about it the more Raka defended her request and her body language became insecure. She was getting uncomfortable and went into “I don’t know” mode. That was the time I realized that even though Raka was excited, deep inside she was a little nervous, a little unsure. I dropped the subject and walked back to my office.

That Saturday morning before the race Raka was pumped. She had everything packed and was raring to go. I took her to the track and then went out to run a few errands before Raka’s race. Raka texted me that her race was in half an hour. I dashed back to the track.

I found myself a good spot near the finish line. Raka was still in her warm-up clothes and was warming up with her team. I wish I could have seen the smile and the excitement on her face, but she was a little too far from me.

Then the moment arrived. Raka walked down to the starting line-up and then before I realized it they were off. It was an 800 meter race which means the runners run twice around the track. Raka started slow. As she crossed the 300 meter mark where I was standing she was running strong but she was towards the back of the second pack. But then Raka’s track coach uttered something to Raka as she crossed the 400 meter mark and she switched gears. All of a sudden she started accelerating. She crossed one other runner and then another.

I was excited, but I was worried too. Could she keep up that pace? Could she finish strong?

Raka showed no signs of slowing down. She continued the acceleration and soon she was at par with the first pack. Even though the leaders were way ahead of her, Raka was running the race of her life. Raka was in a foot race with a girl in a blue uniform. As Raka tried to pass her, the girl accelerated too. Raka now moved to another gear, and soon she was coasting, and closing in on the finish line. I was screaming as loud as I could. “Wow Raka! Go baby Go!”

Raka finished the race strong. She did not place, but she improved her personal best by 20 seconds. Very impressive. Of course I wanted the runners to run another 400 meters as I was confident that Raka would beat everyone if the race was extended.

Raka smiled at me. This was a smile that was very determined. It was full of happiness. She was excited. I was still playing the event back in my mind. Honestly it was one of the most exciting sporting events I have ever been witness to.

That day as I was coming back home, I realized this race was a reflection of Raka’s life. She not always start off first, but a determined Raka never gives up in life. With all the college admissions and scholarships coming her way, they are all just some of the rewards for her hard work.

If you think back, life is a marathon. Some kids start of fast. Some start off slow. We parents panic when a child is slow at times, and our panic makes the child worry as they start realizing that we do not trust their abilities. In the process, the parent wants to make sure that they do not fail.

Instead of all this, why can we not let each child blossom in their own way? Why can we not believe that they will accelerate when the time is right? Life is not about the child finishing on top, life is about the smile of confidence and happiness on the child’s face. Why can’t we simply sit back and enjoy the race and be happy that our children are enjoying being in the race?

{What Next? A Chicken Burger Restaurant Franchise?}

2011-03-22T22:00:00.001-06:00

Every semester I have a tradition of baking special cookies for Raka before her finals. Two years ago when I had only five more batches of cookies to go before she goes to college I started counting down. I realized that I had just a few semesters left so I tried to put more of my heart into each of the subsequent cookies I made.

Last semester I made her cookies and assumed that I would bake these cookies again at the end of Raka’s senior year. When I realized that there were no finals this semester I was simply shocked. I verified the information, then it dawned on me that when I baked those cookies last semester, I had not realized that they were the last set of cookies in Raka’s high school career. Wow. I could not believe that those days are over now. I am so fortunate to not have any regrets as I have finally learned to be in the moment and really did bake the best cookies I could every chance I got.

I remember the words of a pastor’s wife who once told me she knew that there would come a time for her to say “I love you” to her husband and children for the last time. She will not know it is the last time when it happens, but when she looks back on her life she wants to see no regrets.

I was doing the same when I made those cookies last semester but I still am not ready for it to be over.

For a few days I was bummed and I started looking at other things to do for her that I could get excited about. That is the time it dawned on me that I have no more than 55 lunches I can make for her. Assuming at least half of those meals she will eat with her friends, I realized I have around 25 meals left.

Then I wasted very little time between realizing and acting. Hence the next morning, I started thinking of making special lunch sandwiches. I started making chicken burgers from ground chicken. I wanted to make sure Raka looked forward to eating the sandwich at lunchtime so I launched a marketing campaign for the burger. I took a pic using my iPhone then sent it to Raka a text message to make her aware of the lunch coming her way.

I truly was out there, marketing my chicken burger to my #1 customer.

As I worked that afternoon I got a text message back from Raka that she loved the burger. I was on cloud nine. I was excited again. I found my calling, and now I am the lunch expert. I also realized that life was not about simply looking back and finding excuses or having regrets, life also was not about what I do not have any more. Life was all about what I have now and embracing it with both hands with all my passion.

Yes, I had to get a screen shot of my iPhone to capture the moment. I was happy and I could sense there would be a few more similar happy moments that will come my way in near future. I knew that I would strive hard to make them happen.

{Save the Planet}

2011-03-16T07:35:00.001-06:00

Raka has been a little tense lately. Colleges are starting to announce their decisions.

This week has been good as she has already received a few college admissions and a scholarship. Communications from Raka’s top choices, the big decision schools, are yet to come and should be arriving in the next few weeks. Raka and I have talked about how her school choice is simply the first step in her life ahead. A good school will of course help her but what she does with it is her choice. And that will make and define her life.

I am sure that I am not the first dad to give his daughter such advice. But it sounded really smart when I said it and I am proud of myself. What was even smarter was what Raka told me when she and I were returning from a road trip visiting colleges in the northeast.

Raka told me that she was still not sure what she wanted to study, but was leaning towards a profession where she can help people and children in the third world – a very noble vision.

I am sure that when I was her age, making the world better was not one of my immediate concerns. My thoughts were about building a career, making money, and being successful in a self-centered way. When Raka said that she wanted to change the world it made me stop and think. I was touched by her sincerity. I was proud of her.

I also realized that I should trust that she is ready to fly solo in the world outside. A wise soul, a big heart, and great smile, the world outside is ready to feel the Raka difference soon.

Good luck Raka.

{When Children Stop Playing With Us}

2011-03-08T22:28:00.002-07:00

A few weeks back when I posted a blog on a scrabble match with my daughter, I received quite a few emails from readers. Any email is a validation of the purpose of the book, touching one more person but of these two of the emails stood out and really made me think. I thank both readers for giving me permission to share their stories.

A dad whose son will not golf with him

A dad in his fifties wrote to me about his son not playing golf with him anymore. Initially he was kinda baffled as his son loves golf, but he soon realized that when they were out playing golf (his son being a teenager) he used to celebrate too loudly and rubbed-in every time his son lost or even made a bad shot. This father was very sad in his email as he felt that he had not appreciated the time he had with his son. He felt he was acting like “an idiot” about silly wins which made him lose the big moments of golfing together with his son.

A daughter cheats in Monopoly

Another dad wrote about his ten year old daughter. He talked about how when his daughter was four and started playing card games, she always went through the deck to find the winning cards. At that point of time he and his wife thought it was cute. Over the years as they played many games the daughter continued to find “winning ways” and only recently, when the daughter has just turned ten, the parents were seriously uncomfortable seeing their daughter “cheat” while playing Monopoly.

As I started thinking about both these stories I realized that our children go through phases in life. One of these is when they just graduate from asking us to read to them and want us to play games with them. They may be small in size but their heart and spirit are big and they want to be taken for seriously. They also want to win and give parents a reason to be proud of them.

I realized that we plant seeds in our children’s life in these early years. If playing with us is fun, children continue to do so. If we are sore losers, our children will be the same. On the other hand if we are too hard on them, and rob them of the fun of playing by pushing them too hard, they may take their first chance of walking away from the whole thing, forever.

The golf story also hit home with me as I have a pink/purple golf club set sitting in one corner of the garage that has hardly been used. Rumors are that some dad was trying too hard to teach his daughter the etiquette of golf and in the process made the game a yawn to her. Every time I drive into the garage, the lonely club set standing in the corner is just a reminder of what life could have been.

Now about cheating, I do not have any way of figuring out the answer, even though I was once married to a shrink. I completely sympathize with the dad who, in the early years, thinks it is cute when the child takes short-cuts to win, as anything the child does is memorable. But over time are we making the child try too hard to win our approval? Are we defining that winning is everything and playing together is not the journey that one should focus on? I would love it if you would share your thoughts and ideas with me.

{Little Lessons in a Day of Big Fun}

2011-03-02T07:27:00.000-07:00

Last weekend, six students from IIT, Kharagpur (the engineering college I earned my undergraduate degree from in India) came to Denver. They are third and fourth year students from the mining department. Over the weekend they worked on one of the top challenging problems in the field and were placed third, globally. Very impressive!

Yesterday morning, I took time off work and golf to take them to the Rocky Mountains. The plan was to pick them up at 6 am, so that we could beat the downtown traffic. I called a little early and made sure that they were awake so I felt especially bad when I underestimated the early morning traffic and was there at the hotel lobby at 6:05.

When I reached the hotel lobby, no one was there. At 6:20 when I finally reached of the students in the group, he apologized for the delay and said that they would be down in five minutes. I have to confess, I was getting very irritated by this apparent inconsideration on their part. I sat in the car and listened to A.R. Rahman songs from the movie Slumdog Millionaire. Finally at 6:45 am one of the students was down in the lobby. He explained the delay: one of the students in the group could not find his shoes. At this point I was more amused than upset.

Finally at 7:00 am we left the hotel, an hour later than planned. Although I was not happy about it, as the day progressed and I got to learn about their individual lives and their passions in India, I felt fortunate to be in their company. I started thinking back to the days when I was their age. It would not be easy to wake up at 6:00 am just to meet with someone more than twice my age.

I am not supporting their failure to keep a commitment, but what I learned was that life does not always have to be planned. There are times one can simply pause and enjoy the time with their friends who are around. In their case, I experienced them breaking out into an unplanned snow ball fight in the Rocky Mountain National parks.

I am glad I was there to capture their first snowball fight on my camera.

{A New Scrabble Champion}

2011-02-22T19:30:00.000-07:00

Over the holidays this last year Raka and I were able to sit down for a game of Scrabble. It was a long, drawn-out affair and close throughout the entire game but the final score ended at 330 to 334. Raka won! It was the first time Raka beat me in Scrabble and it was one of the best games of Scrabble I have ever played.

As we were clearing the board and getting ready for dinner, messages began popping up on my Facebook page. I was getting messages from my nieces and nephews around the world about how Raka beat me in Scrabble. It took me a while to realize that Raka had posted the score sheet on Facebook.

Cool, the war was on. I was sure that the next time I would win.

After the holidays, school started for Raka and I made a quick trip to India. Consequently, we did not get another chance to play Scrabble until just last week when Raka installed an app on my iPhone called “Words with friends.” With a few clicks she installed an online word game that resembled Scrabble. I looked at her in amazement. She set my username to be GolferPro12 and explained to me I should not post my actual name in the gaming arena. (I am glad she takes online security seriously.) Once she installed the app I got an invite from Raka to play my first online scrabble game. I was excited.

The game has been going on for nearly a week now and is just now coming to a finish. This time the scores are not that close. In fact, they have not been close from the beginning. Raka is leading 287 to 235 with 10 more letters remaining. So, unless there is a last second Hail Mary on my part, this game is heading towards another loss for me. I am posting a copy of the score sheet. Don’t worry, I have changed Raka’s game name, as I have learned from her that I should not disclose her online identity here.

I have to confess I played this game with full seriousness. It is good to see my daughter win, but it is more fun to compete seriously with my daughter. Raka and I have been into Scrabble ever since she was a kid. Initially, I would play for both her and for me. I remember a classic statement by her during one of those games when she said, “Dad, are you making sure I am beating you?”

I have to say, Raka, that today you may be beating me, but, watch out! Good old Dad is ready for a comeback. Maybe a little yoga or meditation between moves is all I need!

{Valentine's Photo: Found!}

2011-02-21T16:10:00.001-07:00

Finally found those old photos! Happy belated Valentine's Day!

{Looking back at Valentine's Day}

2011-02-14T06:49:00.000-07:00

Another Valentine’s Day is here and soon it will be history. Soon the retail stores will remove the red hearts and start replacing them with Easter merchandise. Seasons change fast, so do emotions. Some feelings though, linger with us.

This Saturday Raka invited a few of her mid-distance running buddies over for a mini Valentine’s Day party after their run. Early that afternoon I started cooking and getting ready but the kids came in a few minutes earlier than I anticipated. The kitchen was not as ready as I would have liked but they were happy to have hot food. As Raka and her buddies huddled across the dining table they nibbled on the heart and kissing-lip shaped cookies and candies I had set out, but most of them were still on the table when the left. I realized (again) that they are not kids anymore. I realized that they are much more grown up than I give them credit for.

I started thinking back about past Valentine’s Days with Raka. Earlier we went and bought Mickey Mouse Valentine cards. Then we used to print them at home – I remember both of us huddled in front of the laptop trying to choose the perfect clipart for that year’s Valentine. Then came the magical year, it was early 2000 and a new millennium. The Hindi movie craze of that time was Baghban. There was a song in the movie that was dedicated to Valentine’s Day, called Chali Chali and Raka loved the song. To surprise her and her mom, I planned a Valentine’s Day party in the basement with lots of white and red balloons. It was an evening to remember. Raka danced her heart out with her mom and me to Chali Chali. We took a lot of pictures and she drank a huge bottle of kid champagne. When the night was finally over Raka had a huge sugar-induced stomach ache to match the size of that bottle of grape juice.

The next morning Raka’s mom and I were looking at the pictures when she mentioned that it was very odd that there were hardly any pictures of her and me. Most of the pictures were of Raka and me, or Raka and her mother. I thought for a second and stated that there are times in life, when a couple feels their love through their child. But still, Raka’s mom’s words stuck out with me.

The next month after that Valentine’s Day was the rockiest time in Raka’s life as she learned that her mom and I were going to get a divorce. By the time Easter came that little girl’s life was changed forever. Since then Raka has gone through a lot of emotions, but pain and uncertainty were always the underlying emotions that overwhelmed her.

Valentine’s Days have come and gone since then, and even though we have not talked about it, I have seen memories of the past in Raka’s eyes. The song from Baghban simply got erased from our home. Even though divorce arose out of differences that could not overcome between her mom and me, in the last eight years I have felt over and over how a married couple with kids should try their hardest to stay together for the sake of their children. Love does flow through the children to parents, and sometimes so does pain. Seeing the pain a child goes through after a divorce is reason enough to try one more time before pulling the plug on a marriage.

This Valentine’s Day, as I see Raka becoming a young lady and getting ready to fly away into the larger world, I hope and pray that the life ahead for her is full of love and happy memories. She has turned into a beautiful young lady and fills the life of everyone around her with caring and love. I am sure there are more Valentine’s Days with brand new happy memories in store for her.

Super Bowl Evening

2011-02-08T21:57:00.001-07:00

How time flies!

Raka and I enjoyed our own Super Bowl party at home. After a relaxed morning, we sat down and got ready to watch the game. We had chili chicken, cooked Indian style, and then Raka wanted tea made the “Indian way.”

I was confused for a second before I realized that she wanted “true chai,” the way it is made in the street side tea stalls in India. It is made with blended tea leaves (ground almost like coarse coffee ground), and boiled with milk and water. The blend of the tea and the ratio of milk and water is the secret that makes each roadside tea stall different.

I made the tea and naturally the authentic tea had to be served in tiny earthen cups, just as it is served on the street side in India. The cups are super-sized, only the small way. I served Raka her tea and by the time I sat down to sip my tea, Raka had gulped down her third cup.

As I enjoyed my cup of tea, my mind went back to the first Super Bowl we had watched together. It was 1998. Raka was four and half years old and I had just joined Papa John’s in Louisville, KY. Raka was in Denver. Denver was playing Green Bay. Raka and I were on the phone constantly and Raka had one question, “Baba, did the Broncos win?” I kept telling her, “No, not yet.” Undoubtedly, by the time the game was over, Raka was fast asleep.

Suddenly, back to the here and now, I heard Raka’s voice calling, “Baba, wake up, the game is starting!” I sat up and realized that I had dozed off as I was thinking about Raka and the 1998 Super Bowl. How time flies. Back then, Raka was the one who needed a nap. Today, I was the young one in need of an afternoon nap. Back then, I would explain to her what was going on during the game. Today, Raka is fluent with all the rules of football, knows the players, and is rooting for Green Bay to win.

Next year Raka will be away at college, watching the game with her friends. We will be back to talking on the phone, but most probably texting instead of being on an actual phone call. It will be special too, but instead of thinking about next year, let me just soak up the game this year.

{No School Day}

2011-02-01T22:00:00.000-07:00

This Monday, after school, Raka stopped by on her way to her mother’s place, grinning from ear to ear. It was another one of those treasured “guess what, Dad!” moments. She was celebrating the momentous proclamation that school had already been cancelled for Tuesday.

I seriousy could not get why a seventeen year old was so excited about a “No School Day.” I started with an, “Oh” response, but Raka’s enthusiasm could not be curbed.

“Dad, no school tomorrow! Can you believe that?” she went on to say. Raka had been looking forward to a “No School Day” for ages and it was finally hers for the taking.

I was mildly excited for her and gave her a hug before she backed her red Nissan Sentra out of the garage. I stood there watching till the car left the driveway, then let my mind drift back to my childhood. I recalled myself as a little boy, waiting for the school bus on rainy days, hoping and praying that there would be no school. I was required to wait at the bus stop till 9:30 and if the school bus was not there by then, I could run back home. I remember one day when the bus never came and I got to celebrate my way home. My victory lap included my umbrella folded up under my arm in the pouring rain and the most creative route imaginable as made sure I stepped on every puddle as I walked back home. Somehow, that “No School Day” had its glory moment burned into my mind forever. I told myself, “How could I forget that? How could I not feel what Raka was feeling?” And I was glad that my seventeen year old was still enjoying the simple pleasures of life, “Nirmal Anand” as I called them in India.

Today is the “No School Day”. It is finally here. It is -10 F outside and feels even colder. Stay warm Raka my baby, enjoy your “No School Day.” I hope you get at least one more before you leave for college.

{Facebook or a hug?}

2011-01-25T21:00:00.006-07:00

Since the release of the book 14 months ago I have tried to be structured in posting my blogs every Tuesday night, Denver time. I have to confess that many a time I have asked myself if I was writing just for myself or if anyone ever reads what I write.

This most recent trip to India gave me a reason to be energized and recommit to writing on schedule. Before I start again, I acknowledge a few key experiences and thank a few key people who gave me the motivation I needed.

Calcutta to Mumbai, early morning flight:

It was a 6:20 am flight to Mumbai. I had to be up at 3:30 am. Ma and Babuji (dad) were up early for us to enjoy a cup of tea before I left home. Once I made the long drive to the airport, and then the equally long line through the security, I was relieved to be on the plane and in my seat. Initially I thought the person next to me was kinda strange. That early in the morning he was humming some tunes and writing something down. At first I was quite irritated, but when we introduced ourselves I realized he was THE Pandit Ajoy Chakrabarty, one of India’s premier vocalists. As we started talking very soon Pandit Ajoy Chakrabarty mentioned that he was in Denver and heard about my book. I did not have a copy with me but I promised to mail him a copy ASAP. It was only when we went our ways that I realized that our conversation during the flight was mostly about parenting and not about the music of the talented genius. I got a chance to know about his academy and how he interacts with students on a one level, giving them confidence and enjoying every moment. It was simply wonderful to connect to a man of this level of talent on a personal level through our common interest in enjoying every teaching moment and the relationships that matter to us.

Mumbai, Oni’s shoot:

My brother Oni asked if I could send copy of my book to a client of his, Swati, who was attending one of Oni’s video shoots. I obliged. That afternoon when I reached the set I met Swati. She was at one corner of the shoot, reading a book, my book! She was intrigued by my being there, and soon started asking me questions. Then she decided to get back to the book stating she was near the end of the book. I was touched. “Wow. She finished it in one sitting! Nice,” I thought. Once she was finished she had an expression of satisfaction and said that she would love to share the book with her daughter. We talked a little about the content of the book and parenting challenges. Later that evening as I was driving back with Oni, and he explained who Swati was (one of the top creative minds in the field of advertising in India), I recalled hearing the name Swati Bhattacharya mentioned by my friends in the field. I was now in awe. I could not believe I was in the presence of the Swati Bhattacharya, creative genius, and all we talked was parenting stories.

Mumbai, Oni’s shoot round two:

Suparna, who works with Oni and over time has become a sister to me, was listening to my conversation with Swati. At one point I referred to a particular blog post and Suparna simply could not hold back. “I have read it,” she said beaming with confidence. She went on to tell me how she is a regular to the blog and reads all the posts. I was amazed and grateful once again.

Facebook

Since my return I have been energized to connect with my classmates from IIT Kharagpur. In the Facebook game of sending friend requests and accepting requests, I got a message from Samaresh Mukhopadhyay who posted on his wall a video of me speaking on the book. In his personal message to me he talked about his life’s challenges and how he has had to make conscious choices to balance life. Then I heard from Amitesh Mukherjee who shared some stories about him and his wife taking their kids out to dinner. Prosenjit Dutta talked about how the video moved him and Saibal K. Ghosal said, “I am once again reminded that it's easy to become a father but it's a lot more difficult, but fulfilling, to be a ‘Dad’!” But one of my favorites was a message from Diganta Das. He wrote “We all get the moments - just this morning my seven year old wrapped herself around me and said – ‘Isn't it (the hug) better than Facebook?’”

Wow. In the last two weeks, the book connected me to Pandit Ajay Chakrabarty, creative genius Swati Bhattacharya, Suparna, Samaresh, Amitesh, Prosenjit, Saibal, Diganta and many others. Even though each of them are the leaders in their professional fields, in each case the book and the blog gave me the opportunity to connect with the individuals on a deeper personal level. There was no formal rehash of professional accomplishments. Instead, the spontaneous words were all from the heart. I thank each of you for sharing.

As Raka and I discussed the scope at the outset of the journey of the book, she, in her typical wisdom stated, “The mission of the book, Dad, should be to touch one more person.”

Initially I was confused. Until that time I had defined the mission based on the book’s sales. Once Raka explained, I thought I got it, but I still had a question. I asked Raka, “What happens once we touch one more person?”

She looked at me with an expression that she could not believe I was asking that question. She said, “Dad, then we touch one more person.”

Thank you Raka. The book and your vision have helped us touch people, one person at a time, and connect at a deeper level.

But do you always have to be this wise? :)

I love you baby!

{True Happiness}

2011-01-18T15:00:00.000-07:00

What is better than watching your superman-brother work? I got the answer last week when I was in Mumbai, India.

It was the last day of my trip and Oni, my brother, was shooting an ad in a suburb of Mumbai. My amazing nephew Agni and I were both excited to attend the shoot as there was an artificial rain sequence scheduled to be filmed.

I got there before Agni since the young man was still finishing up his nap. Agni arrived at the set close to the end of the shoot. The dynamics changed immediately. There was excitement in the eyes of all the tired team members who had finished another long day of filming. Everyone was eager to share their role with Agni, and Agni got to climb on top of the water tank and see some of the other filming highlights.

That’s when the magic really happened. Somehow Agni found his way next to his dad, and held his hand. After a few more on-set observations, Agni and Oni started walking back to the car, holding hands. The excitement in Agni’s face was out of this world. I also noticed the smile on Oni’s face – it was no ordinary smile. Father and son were cherishing their moment together where both were truly happy that the other was there.

As for me, I was just happy to be there and capture some of the moments in my camera. Enjoy.

{The "Last" Cookie}

2011-01-04T07:18:00.000-07:00

My Dearest Raka,

As you get ready to embark in the journey of life and I bake the last cookie for your High School finals, I realized that when life closes a door, it opens a window. Initially I was sad and resisted making the last cookie. I guess most dads feel a weak moment when they want their baby to remain their baby forever. Maybe that was the reason I accidentally left the “secret stuff” at Whole Foods last night.

But today as I started baking, I realized I need to find new reasons to celebrate and bake cookies for you. I have already thought of a number of reasons to celebrate in the future, it isn’t difficult to find reasons to celebrate a star like you.

This last set of cookies is a reflection of life’s challenges that are ahead of you. First I thought of marking them, but then I realized that life does not come with “markings” and you will have to figure things out as you go, so here they are:

Raka's Last Set of Cookies Before Finals

- To mark of sweet moments in life, I have some orange flavored cookies for you.

- For moments of celebration with friends, I have some hazelnut flavored cookies.

- For moments when you will be a little unsure in life, there are chili lime flavored cookies

- For moments those are tough and initially will shake your confidence (just for a moment before you come out with flying colors), there are chili cookies.

- And then there is the plain chocolate chip cookie to celebrate everyday life.

Of course as a dad, that too of my only child, I worry as you prepare to leave the nest and leave your mark of Raka-ness on the world. The more I get to know you, however, I more I realize that you are more ready than I was at your age, (not that this is saying much). Your wisdom, your maturity, you caring for others, and your sheer brilliance in everything you do makes me sing the old Gatorade song, “I want to be like Raka.” (Since you were not in the picture then, the song went “I want to be like Mike” after some guy named Michael Jordan.)

Good luck in your finals baby!

I love you and you ROCK!

Love,

Baba

{Did I Let Raka Off Too Easy?}

2010-12-28T09:57:00.001-07:00

This morning, Raka called me before she left her mother’s place. Her tone was not the same old happy bubbly self. I could sense something was not right. She confirmed it by saying, “Dad something happened, and you will not like it!”

My first reaction was, “Are you alright?”

She told me, “Yes, but as I was backing my car out, I did not realize that mom left the trash can in the garage so close to my car. I did not see the trash can as I was backing out of the garage and I bumped my mirror into it. The mirror came off but I am sure it can be glued back on.” As I listened, she went on, “Mom should not have been keeping the trash can so close to the car!”

I realized that the attention was switching to Raka’s mom. She had put the trash can there even before Raka had parked the car, so really Raka should have taken complete ownership for the error instead of blaming her mom.

These conversations are always better in person than over the phone, so I asked Raka to drive over to my place. I was outside, waiting for her when the red Nissan Sentra came over with the passenger side mirror hanging precariously from the side. Raka was very apologetic. She kept telling me that the damage was minor and it could be glued back on.

I was not sure. Whether it could be glued back on or not, this could have been avoided. It was a clear case of a teenager rushing out of a garage and the consequences could have been way more serious. I expressed all that to Raka and then sent her off to drive to school. I told her we would talk about solutions after school.

As she left, I kept thinking. It was time for “second chance Arjun” to take over. I realized accidents happen, sometimes because we are careless and sometimes because they just happen. Of course Raka could have been more careful and should be in the future, but instead of the consequence defining the event, I wanted to look at what lessons Raka should take from this. The real lesson was definitely not in the cost of fixing the mirror.

So I decided to drive to Raka’s school armed with super glue and masking tape. Once I got there I assessed the damage again and realized it was worth trying to glue it, as if that failed then we would have to replace the whole piece. I got to work in the school parking lot. After I glued it back on, I used all the masking tape I had to make sure it stayed in place. Then I wrote some instructions for Raka on a note and left it on the car then came back home.

Raka and I continued our texting on the subject throughout the day without me mentioning my repairs. Raka soon announced that she had talked to her friend and her dad would be able to fix it. I told Raka that it is that time of the year when miracles are in the air and that she should go and check the car out. She went and came back completely excited. She could not believe that the car was fixed! At least for now, until the mirror falls off again.

When Raka got back from school we talked about the lessons and consequences. We talked about how she should take ownership instead of blaming her mom for keeping the trash can in the wrong place. She also was lazy the night before when she drove in, as she should have moved the trash can at that time instead of trying to maneuver the car in. Finally, she has to be more careful while backing out of the garage as it was very clear that the impact could have been far more serious.

Raka listened. I realized that it was an easier discussion now that the car was miraculously fixed. The conversation was still assertive and directed, but in this case we were actually listening to each other. Of course it did not hurt that she was hungrily attacking the freshly made mac ’n cheese, and then caramel ice cream as she listened to me.

I love you Raka and you should take this as a warning sign and drive extra cautiously!

{A Timely Reminder of the Spirit of Christmas}

2010-12-22T09:32:00.002-07:00

It is that time of the year. The Christmas spirit is in the air. Of course the Christmas spirit is all about peace, love, and joy to all. But in my mind true Christmas spirit comes from the act of giving, giving without thinking, and having no clue what impact the giving might make in the lives of others.

This holiday season, I want to celebrate one such giver, a friend of mine, Julie Ann Debenham. Fortunately Julie may not get the Christmas-ONLY-spirit, as her acts of giving continue year round.

A week or two back I received a message from a classmate of mine from Brigham Young University, it was Julie. As we exchanged messages, I learned that she was visiting Colorado Springs and we could meet for breakfast or lunch that week. I was very excited to see Julie again.

Let me first take on a flashback so you know the kind of person Julie is:

A lot of my BYU classmates and their families were kind to me during my early days in the country, but Julie always stood out in my mind. This tall blonde classmate of mine first introduced herself to me during our first week of MBA classes as, “I am Julie from Alaska, and you are the smartest kid in the class.” Of course, I liked her immediately; as any new student is a sucker for compliment. But I soon realized that inside Julie there is a soul that is genuinely caring and spontaneous. She always observed me and then acted instantly without hesitation.

The first instance of this was when she realized that I lived ten blocks from campus in the Cinnamon Tree apartments. It was a long walk to school and as fall was slowly turning towards winter, the walk was getting longer. I did not know when Julie saw me walking, but one day after class she walked me to her white Toyota Supra, opened the trunk, and took out her mountain bike. “Arjun” she said, “You can borrow this bike till I need it.”

Wow, life all of a sudden became so easy. What took 15 minutes to get to class, now turned into 4 minutes.

Another time, I was walking back to my apartment carrying plastic bags full of groceries. As winter was in the air, the heavy plastic bags started to bite into my fingers. From time to time, I would stop and rest the bags on the pavement and warm my hands before continuing my walk back. During one such instance, Julie drove by. She waved at me, and ,made a quick u-turn, and came back towards me. She pulled over and with a smile asked me to get in the car. She dropped me off at my apartment. After that it became a ritual for her to pick me up and take me to the grocery store, every week.

Then came my first thanksgiving in the country. I had no clue what the significance of the holiday was. I was planning on using the holiday as a much needed break before the finals. On the Tuesday before Thanksgiving, Julie told me to pack and get ready for the weekend. I was startled. “Where am I going?”

By the time I asked I knew Julie well enough to realize that asking would not get me an answer. But this time she smiled and said, “I am taking you home.”

I did not know what to think. I was not very familiar with social norms in the country, nor was I dating this girl. But then I did not have any other options for the weekend.

On Wednesday after class she picked me up and we drove towards Salt Lake City. As we drove, she told me that we were going to her parent’s home in Bountiful. I was excited. As we got close to her home, I was startled by the enormous sizes of the homes. I was staring at each of the homes, when we Julie pulled into the driveway of her parent’s home.

I was expecting an awkward moment when I met Julie’s family. Today if Raka were to surprise me by bringing a boy home with her over Thanksgiving, I would immediately focus on getting his finger prints and running a background check on the boy. But Julie’s family was kind and generous and welcomed me with open arms. It was a great weekend of amazing cooking and fun. When I think back, my fondest memories of the weekend are the moments I shared with Julie’s grandma, as she reminded me of my Maiji.

~END OF FLASHBACK, BACK TO PRESENT~

I was thinking of all the past moments of Julie’s kindness as she walked into the restaurant. We were meeting after nearly 18 years. She had not changed. The same smile, the same big hug, and the same way she always pronounced my name.

We sat down started catching up. I shared with her some of these memories and how she was kind and helpful during my stay in Provo. She smiled and said, “I helped you? Hmmm,” and smiled.

Then she shared with me what she had been doing over the past few years. She talked about how she spends as much time as possible helping others, whether it is an individual in her church or traveling around the world to assist the Red Cross on their next project. She had just come back from one such trip in Azerbaijan. It was amazing to see that she had not changed all. I realized that if I was walking with bunch of plastic bags full of groceries she would still pull over and say, “Jump in Arjun, let me drop you off at home.” The only thing that had changed was her car, now it was an xTerra, perhaps she anticipated that my grocery needs have increased.

As she shared her thoughts something she said made me pause and stare at her. “Arjun, I want to help others, I want to make the world better in any way I can.” As I listened to her, my memory went back to Raka’s statement as we were driving from Boston to New Haven, when she had told me the same thing.

Soon lunch was over and after a hug, she was off on her long drive to Salt Lake City. As I started driving back home, I remember that Maiji used to tell me that there are no accidents in life. Everything has a purpose and the challenge is to find the purpose.

Julie’s reconnecting with me must have a purpose. In the holiday season this was a reminder to me of the true Christmas spirit. And the spirit of giving is a yearlong thing and not restricted to a one time act of goodness.

As Raka and I try to get ready for Christmas this year, I am simply thrilled to meet my friend and in the process relive her goodness. Goodness from people like Julie not only changes other’s lives but also inspires others to goodness. I told Julie that I am so glad that I have a daughter and a friend who are both great people and they are trying to change the world for the better. It feels good to be surrounded by goodness. Reconnecting with her is one of the best gifts I could get this Christmas.

Raka and I wish happy holidays to all of you.

{Kindle Holiday Pricing Only $1.99}

2010-12-16T08:43:00.002-07:00

To celebrate parents and families during the holidays, purchase the kindle version of Raising a Father now for only $1.99.
Click here.

{Should a father apologize to his daughter about his divorce?}

2010-12-14T20:00:00.009-07:00

As Raka crossed seventeen and gently started to move with confidence to adulthood, she and I have been more open about life and our past. Raka has been talking about her challenges in friendships and her occasional insecurities about performing at her peak during a sporting event or academic testing. As Raka talks, I listen. Even though I empathize with her struggles to be better, deep inside I say “You are so cool girl. I really wish I were half as cool as you, half as wise as you, and half as caring about others as you are when I was your age.”

Over time I started sharing my own regrets and challenges with Raka. It started with explaining how my social circle shrunk completely after my divorce which occasionally can make me quite lonely. She listened and gave me a hug. Then one day we were talking about regrets and I finally told her that my biggest regret is that Raka is growing up in a divorced household. Raka tried to coax me and said, “Dad, I am better and stronger because of the divorce. You and Ma are each better because of the divorce.”

I knew she was simply being nice and trying to pacify me. I asked her “how can you say that the divorce made you stronger when you still feel the pain? How can you say that this was the right thing when you hide pictures of you with your mom and me together in your room?”

Raka was quiet. I was in sharing/preaching mode. I went on to tell Raka, “ Baby, I believe when two adults get married they can do whatever they want… until they get have a child. After a child is born, it becomes essential for each parent to redefine their identity as ‘Raka’s Dad’ and ‘Raka’s Mom.’ I think that understanding that the smallest distractions can, over time, result in a divorce which will change a child’s life forever, should guide parents in their actions on a daily basis.”

Then I stopped to see that Raka was doodling on a piece of paper. I was not sure that she was listening. But the moment I stopped, she stopped doodling and looked up to me. “Baby,” I continued. “Think. Divorce is one of the only acts in life when two adults fail at something (in this case it is a marriage), but get to move forward with hardly any consequence. The consequence is borne entirely by the child as a life sentence.”

Today when I think back, I completely agree that a divorce is better than a bad marriage, but that is looking at life selfishly from the adult point of view. Should two parents, when they are blessed with the most amazing gift of all, a child, not strive hard every day to be the best parents they can be, and in the process keep the marriage together?

These thoughts and discussions of course made Raka wonder if I would like to get back together with her mom. I raised my eyebrows when I was asked the question. I think by not answering I told Raka “not in a million years.” I also realized that talking about what is the right thing to do is easy, but walking the talk is where the challenge is.

I feel bad and hate to think this candid discussion rekindled any hope in Raka to have a unified home with her dad and mom.

Sorry baby. I did not mean to hurt you, again!

{Being a Dad is Not About Baking Cookies for Your Daughter}

2010-12-08T08:44:00.000-07:00

Last October when I was in Mumbai, Oni (my brother), Rachna (my sister-in-law), and I were up one night chatting about our parenting styles and other life issues. Usually Rachna and I go on talking while Oni dozes off in the middle of the conversation.

This time, somehow, Oni had become the center of the discussion. Rachna and I were pushing him on a multitude of issues ranging from not showing emotions to parenting. Oni was being his evasive best, but finally he snapped. “Being a dad is not about baking cookies for your daughter.”

I knew that comment was directed at me. I was hurt as that shot was uncalled for. I wanted to go after him for the comment, but then decided that I loved him too much to pursue this any further. I just let the statement go.

But the statement did not simply vanish. I did not forget and I have been thinking about it a lot since then. I do not know what Oni meant by the statement or why it was said, but as I thought hard, I realized that being a father cannot be judged by a few random actions. It made me go back to the basics of parenthood I learned during the journey of Raising a Father. Being a father takes a lifelong ongoing commitment to be present. The manifestation of being present could be baking cookies, driving your daughter to sports events, taking pictures as your daughter performs, or cooking for your daughter’s study group after they finish an immersion into the world of mathematics.

I finally came to peace with the statement when I realized that my relationship with Raka is only for us to savor, for us to evolve, and for no one else to judge. Raka and I have striven hard to continue to be close, especially through Raka’s transition to a teen and now a near adult, and also through my insecurities in relationships and my uncertainty of how to be a better dad.

We are enjoying every moment together, who could ask for more?

{Acting in the Present, Without the Help of Hindsight}

2010-12-01T16:15:00.000-07:00

Raka’s senior season on the cross-country team did not start of well for her. She had a knee injury that caused her to lose nearly six weeks of practice, but eventually when she was back running, it was a delight to see her run with friends. The first few races were tough. Raka knew she was capable of a faster time but there was a limit to what she could attain with her healing knee. She progressed through the season and did better with every race and was ready and feeling good when the last race of the season arrived.

The weekend before the final race I realized that this would be Raka’s last cross-country race in high school. Though I was sad I was absolutely determined to enjoy every moment of it.

The morning of the race, I visited the 5k track and ran/walked the whole course to identify my opportunity points – points where I would be able to see Raka and then dash to my next point. Even if I was allowed to run with her I could not keep pace, so I identified the points to be the starting line, mile 1.1, mile 2.1, the last 400 yards, and of course the finish line.

The afternoon of the race was the most beautiful running day in Denver, ever. It was sunny, in the 70’s, and all the runners were bubbling with enthusiasm. Just before the race, Raka dashed to me, gave me a hug and whispered to me, “Dad, this is my last race.” I gave her a tight hug and then she was off to warm-up with her friends.

Hundreds of girls started the race together. Raka was focused. As the runners took off, I dashed with my camera on a monopod to my first opportunity point. As I stood at opportunity point #1, Raka came through 15 seconds before my anticipated time. She looked happy, she looked pain free, and she was pacing with another classmate of hers. I took my pictures and then dashed over the to 2.1 mile mark.

As I ran across to the 2.1-mile opportunity point, I realized I was not the only parent who saw it as an opportunity point. We parents had our own race to get the same spot. Raka was there, this time 20 seconds ahead of time. I could see that this was Raka’s day, she was going to have her best run ever. I yelled for her, encouraging her to give her best and finish strong. Raka was still pacing with her classmate.

As I moved to the finish line to catch the last 400 yards of the race, I saw Raka still pacing with her friend, and then both finished the race within microseconds of each other. I went across and gave her a big smile. I was so proud of her. I was happy that she was out running, as during the time her knee was injured, I only dreamt of this moment.

Then I had to open my mouth.

I asked her, “ Why did you hold back? You could have finished another 45 seconds faster. You looked strong today, why did hold back in the last mile?”

A sweating Raka looked at me as she stretched her upper body. “Dad,” she said, “You realize that all season my friend and I have competed to be the best of the JV group in our school. Today was her last race too. Yes, you are right, I could have finished faster, but I felt today neither she nor I deserved to lose. So we ran together. And together we passed more runners than we have each done on our own before.” With that she finished her stretches and joined her other friends as they went on to cheer the runners in the next race.

I was quick to capture on my camera the moment of her walking away after the last cross-country race. As I did that, the meaning of Raka’s words hit me. “Today neither one of us deserved to lose” and “together we passed more runners than we have each done on our own before.”

Wow, I told myself. That is simply brilliant. But what struck me more was Raka being in the moment, realizing this and acting on it. Many I times, when I think back at life, in hindsight, I come up with things that I could have done differently. But thinking back is different from acting in the present. Raka simply did that.

I guess the opportunity points were more than an opportunity to take photographs of my daughter. It taught me a valuable lesson in life.

{Asian-American Work and Home Life: TV Asia Interview}

2010-11-23T15:09:00.000-07:00

There are too many parents in my situation who, in an effort to provide the best for their children, neglect to give them the most important thing every child needs, time. I recently was privileged to be interviewed on TV Asia to recount my experience in the corporate world and my rash decision to get out of it and spend more time with my daughter. It is my hope that this book can inspire you and your loved ones this holiday season. If you are interested in giving the book as a holiday gift, they are very reasonably priced online and can be purchased using the links to the right. Happy Thanksgiving!

{The day my life (re)started}

2010-11-17T16:58:00.002-07:00

{Take Time to be a Dad Today!}

2010-11-11T09:51:00.000-07:00

source: http://www.nytimes.com/2010/10/19/business
/media/19adnewsletter1.html?ref=advertising_council

It seems Google is not the only one to focus on father-daughter relationships. A great new series of public service ads is encouraging dads to take time for their children. The ads were created pro bono for the Administration for Children and Families and the Office of Family Assistance and introduced three weeks ago. Their resources for spreading this message will have the advantage of using television, outdoor, online and mobile advertising.

Check out www.fatherhood.gov and scroll down to the bottom right of the home page to see some of the media spots.

{Staying Connected to Your Children, From Anywhere}

2010-11-02T15:56:00.000-06:00

As part of Google's summer search series, they put together this great video dedicated to dads and daughters. Technology really does allow us to be involved with loved ones on the other side of the planet in ways I never dreamed possible. What a wonderful time in history we live in! Maybe its not so bad for all of our kids to have laptops and iPhones...

{Parent's Day Essay Contest: 1st Place Winner!}

2010-10-26T14:11:00.001-06:00

This essay, submitted by Irena Smith, has a simple writing style, and I love the fact that she reflected on small stories and her changed perception over time. Congratulations to the first place winner!

Parents
by Irena Smith

In our lives we meet thousands of people. Hundreds of thousands maybe. Maybe we’ve known some of them all our lives, since before we can remember. Maybe some of them are just people you once said hi to, and they said hi back. Maybe one is your kindergarten teacher, one is that kid at camp who taught you how to hacky sack, one that old lady across the street who once asked you to help her bring in her groceries. And of course, two of those people are your parents. You get the idea. Hundreds of thousands of people.

Every one of those people changes you in some way. Every one of them puts a little part of themselves in you when you relate to them, when you reciprocate with them. Now, we’ve all heard the phrase, ‘it takes a village to raise a child’, but I doubt many people picture a village of hundreds of thousands. Every one of those people makes you who you are.

Parents are unimaginably valuable to a child. Childhood is when a person is developing themselves, when you need someone to look up to, to show you the way, to support you. That is the role of the parent. Naturally, the parent can’t do everything. That’s where all those other people in you life come in.

We’ve all been in a parental position to someone else at some point in our lives, whether we realized it at the time or not. We are all a part of the community we live in, the society we live in, the world we live in. It is our responsibility to take care of and teach the people around us. They are invaluable.

When your mom tells you not to hit people when you are too young to figure this sort of thing out for yourself, it is because someone once told her that, in a different time, in a different place. In general, it is an accepted rule that one does not hit other people. This is how a society is built. When you are a parental figure to someone else, you are changing them, just a tiny bit. And someday they will change some one else, and so on and so forth. Our mothers could just as easily spread the general rule that when someone else offends, for God’s sake, knock them out. That certainly wouldn’t create a world based on goodness.

When I was younger, I used to think that being a parent wouldn’t be a very good job. You aren’t saving people from fires, or teaching people how to read or anything important really. I couldn’t have been more wrong. My mom would try to explain it to me, “Maybe one of my children will save someone’s life someday,” she’d say. I just thought that was an awful lot of pressure for us. Now I am beginning to realize how true that is. Not just about your children literally, but all of the people you have been in a parental position to. All of the people you have put a little bit of yourself into.

So, next time you are in a parental position, think about what sort of rule you are spreading, what sort of world you want to see. Because parents have that power. Parents really can change the world one person at a time.

{Parent's Day Essay Contest: 2nd Place Winner}

2010-10-19T17:57:00.005-06:00

On October 3, 2010 I was invited to the Colorado Parent’s Day Awards Banquet to speak and to judge an essay writing contest. To read more about the event scroll down or click here to read my October 6th post. It was a heart touching event organized by Peggy Yujiri and her team at the Colorado Parent’s Day Council, which celebrated parents of excellence and the parents of the year. Many excellent essays were submitted and I was privileged to read them all and want to share the three winners with you.

A Daughter to Her Parents
by Giselle Davenport (age 16)

Those of you that put faith

In believing you are on your own

That only you are reliable

Only you are worthy of your love

Must remember where you came from

One birth was not spontaneous

You don’t owe yourself that credit

Give that to who deserves it most

You know them very well, I’m sure

They’ve been next to you for years and years

Helping you to walk those first uncertain steps

And being there to laugh when you flat-bottom fall

But sure to pick you up again

Sitting you cautiously

On the set of that bike you just had to have

Screaming for you to hit the brakes

But all in vain as you flail helplessly down the sidewalk

Who took you that first day of school?

Prepared your lunch all nice and pretty

To show off at snack time to envious eyes

All the “I’ll trade you”s are due to them

When peers’ harsh words brought tears along faithfully

When opinions of others were most important

And sticks and stones could break your bones

But words could hurt much worse

It was they who made you love yourself

Believe in the bountiful beauty that is you

It was they who told you so

And turned the tears to ashes as they fell

Never to fall for that reason evermore

Finally done with studying, working

All those late night essays, readings

Are finally done with, those long sixteen years

Your tasseled cap and gown adorn you graciously

And who but they sit front row

Smiling bright, pride shining in their eyes

The same eyes you have, there upon that stage

They are due the highest reward

Now as you sit in your pretty white dress

Nervously stand at that alter, forever promise

You look to the ones who so happily gaze upon you

Hearts full to bursting with love

Sadly, now you wear your black

Flowers tightly held in your shaking hands

Tears roll down that face they created

As all those fond memories flow back to you

Melancholy fills the air, yet a hint of happiness

A funeral is not for sorrow and broken heart

It’s for loving reminiscence and a proper heaven send

You know you will someday reunite again

But now, as you proudly reflect

Just remember to never forget

Who was there to walk alongside you

As you took those first uncertain steps

{Parent's Day Essay Contest: 3rd Place Winner}

2010-10-13T07:28:00.001-06:00

On October 3, 2010 I was invited to the Colorado Parent’s Day Awards Banquet to speak and to judge an essay writing contest. It was a heart touching event organized by Peggy Yujiri and her team at the Colorado Parent’s Day Council, which celebrated parents of excellence and the parents of the year. Many excellent essays were submitted and I was privileged to read them all and want to share the three winners with you.

My Relationship with My Parents
by Krista Smith

In this essay I will share about the ever growing and changing thing that is my relationship with my parents.

I wish that I had a better word to use; the word “relationship” doesn’t seem nearly powerful enough to convey the bond between parents and their children. For one thing the connection we have is much more than just the affiliation between people, or a “mutual exchange”, as the dictionary defines a relationship to be. As we’ve been told, the love of a parent to a child is the most powerful, beautiful kind of love there is. But in this essay I would like to write not only about the unconditional love of a parent, but also about some of the stages and feelings (both loving and not) of the child.
From the very beginning of my relationship to my mother and father, that is from the beginning of my life, my parents made mistakes. They would do all sorts of little things to regret, they were only human, and learning the complicated difficult process of raising children. It didn’t exactly make it easier that they had four children within three years, and then a fifth only three years later. At this point my parents had a five-year-old, two four-year-olds, a three-year-old, and a new born baby to worry about, not to mention the difficulties of a matched marriage and a low income. Just today we were talking to our parents about what an insane time that must have been, and they were telling us how much they would yell at us and then regret their anger almost instantly. My parents were probably stretched so far by the stress and noise and chaos of five young children that they yelled at us more in that crazy time than they do now with four teenagers and a preteen. The funny thing is that when looking back on that time of my early childhood, my parent’s frustration and difficulty with us is not at all what prevails in my memory. What I remember most from that time is an unconditional love and admiration for my parents that I had, especially my mother. In my eyes they were absolutely perfect. Although there were (and are) a lot of us, I don’t remember ever feeling unloved or attention needy, I just recall how in my innocent, childish eyes my parents never did anything wrong.

As time went on and we children grew into preteens my mind, as every mind does, began to mature and change. I began to look at the world, and at my parents, in a very different way. Although they were as good of parents then as they were in my early childhood I began to view my parents as less and less perfect. One might say that at that time in my life I became aware that my parents were human, that they made mistakes, that that they were, at times, unjust. I saw that they too got tired and grouchy, that they got impatient and angry and sad. And I was mad at them. Shouldn’t they, adults, be mature, responsible, and right all the time? It just didn’t seem fair. It never entered my mind that I should thank them for all that they did or that I should try to shoulder some of their burden by helping them in whatever way I could; in my immature mind I thought that it was their job and responsibility to care for me and everything else. Of course another part of this was that my once entirely innocent vision had now been clouded by other things. When I thought that my parents were being unjust or unkind, they really had my best interest in mind. A parent’s job is more than just loving their child, parents also have to discipline and shape them into the person they will be. So when I didn’t understand why I had do the dishes and wash my own clothes when my friends didn’t, it was not because I was growing up and becoming more mature as I thought, but because I still had a lot to learn.

I am currently in yet another stage in my relationship to my parents. Now when I see that they are human just like me and can be worn down with worry, can want to cry for frustration, and sometimes wish that things are different then they are, when I see that sometimes they make mistakes too, that they do things they regret, instead of making me mad, it makes me proud. I cannot even comprehend all that they’ve done, that they do all that they do. I am in awe and beyond grateful to think that they do it all unconditionally for their children, for me.

As I grow into an adult, and perhaps have children of my own and, in some way, walk the path that my parents have, I know that I will only grow closer and closer to my parents and that my gratitude and admiration for them will only increase. I know that our “relationship”, the beautiful bond I cannot find a name for, will continue to grow as the most perfect, breathtaking, powerful love in the universe.

{Where were you on the morning of Sept 15, 1993?}

2010-10-06T07:21:00.003-06:00

Last Sunday, October 3, 2010 I was invited to the Colorado Parent’s Day Awards Banquet. It was a heart touching event organized by Peggy Yujiri and her team at the Colorado Parent’s Day Council, which celebrated parents of excellence and the parents of the year.

When dinner started and everyone was settled in their seats, Peggy invited me to talk about my reflections on parenting. As I walked up to the podium, I kept thinking of the life story of James and Jenny Davenport, the 2010 Colorado Parents of the Year. I was quiet for a minute as I stared at James, sitting happily with his family around him. Somehow my prepared speech was not important to me anymore. I addressed him and the other parents present as I started speaking.

“What were you guys doing at 3:08am on September 15, 1993? Why didn't you come and smack me on the forehead the moment Raka was born, to make me aware of the responsibilities of a father.” I paused, then went on to ask, “What were you guys doing in December 1988 when I got married and took a vow. Where were you to tell me what it takes to stay married?”

I shared with the group the consequence of the divorce as faced by Raka. She has to hide pictures of her with her mom and dad in her closet. Divorce, among other things, makes a child defensive about sharing her parents in public. This is only one of the many challenges a child goes through, but it did not just happen. It was baby steps taken after marriage, that eventually resulted in divorce, and that put Raka into her current lifestyle. I really wish that the consequences for children of their parents wrong turns could be reinforced when a couple gets married.

I had to leave the Colorado Parent's Day Awards Banquet early to be with Raka. As I left the room, I was sad. I also felt the energy from the parents who were in the room, celebrating their 24-7 commitment to their children. Of course as I started driving, I had to call Raka and say, “Baby, I am on my way. I love you.”

Raka was very excited about her day. She enthusiastically told me what she was doing and then she said, “I love you too. Be safe as you drive, Dad.”

{Welcome Home Daddy!}

2010-09-21T08:24:00.000-06:00

Earlier this year I traveled to India to visit my brother and his family. Raka would have loved to join me, but she could not leave school. While I was in India, every minute with my nephew Agni was fun, but my heart was back here in Denver, thinking about Raka. I called Raka often while I was away and of course every conversation would end with, “I miss you,” and “I love you”.

Raka was in school the day I got back. My good friend and neighbor Sudhir picked me up from DIA and I arrived home quite jet-lagged. As I entered home from the garage, I saw a sign on the door with the words, “Welcome home Daddy! I love you!” As I read the sign, I stood there and said to myself, “Aww!”

Raka has been amazing in sharing her emotions and feelings for me all through her life. Ever since she was a little child, she would draw cute thoughtful cards for me, but this one was special. I made plans to remove the sign and take it to my office, but decided to leave it there just for a while.

A few weeks after my return, Raka reminded me that I was “already back home” and the sign should be removed. I pleaded with her, asking if I could keep the sign up for a few days.

Today, the sign has been up for more than six months. I have no intention of taking it down. The sign has been a permanent fixture on the door. Every time I come back home, I stare at the sign and smile. It reminds me of Raka and her kind gestures. It reminds me that I am home and my baby loves me. It also reminds me that while I am away, my daughter is always waiting for me.

There has not been a single day when I have failed to read the sign as I entered the door. There has not been a single day when I have failed to say as I walk in, “I love you too, Baby!”

{Bird's Eye View of the ATL}

2010-09-15T00:23:00.000-06:00

photos by arjun sen

{A Little Reminder: It's Never Too Late To Reach Out}

2010-09-07T18:07:00.000-06:00

At NY hospital, unlikely dad, daughter reunion

(AP) – 3 days ago

NEW YORK — It was a bittersweet and unlikely reunion.

A nurse at a Bronx hospice went to greet her new patient last week and was stunned to find that it was her estranged father, who she hadn't seen in 41 years.

Victor Peraza left his infant daughter a lifetime ago when he split with her mother.
For the decades that followed they were never in contact.

But Wanda Rodriguez knew his name, and when her new patient at Calvary Hospital said that, yes, he had two grown daughters named Gina and Wanda, she burst into tears.

Now, the two tell the New York Daily News and the Journal News of White Plains that they are cherishing every moment they have left together.

Peraza says it is a miracle that his daughter accepts him.

Simply Lucky

2010-08-31T20:36:00.000-06:00

Last week, when I was out of town on a business trip I got a text message from Raka.

“Dad, are you home next Tuesday?”
“No baby, back Tuesday evening.”
“Can you come a little earlier, I have a Tuesday at 6:30 with my knee doctor.”
I was pre-occupied, but paused for a second and realized this was important. I did not think and sent her a text back, “will make it happen.”
I got a short reply back from her, “Thanks.”

That started the tone for the last few days. That evening after all my meetings, I started planning what I could do. My original plan was to fly Monday to Burbank, stay at a hotel next to the airport, and then rent a car and drive to meet my client next morning near the LAX airport. After the meeting on Tuesday I was planning to drive back to the Burbank airport and fly back home that evening. As I was paying for out of pocket on this trip, it was important to keep cost down.

First I called Expedia.com only to realize that the whole trip was a package deal and even if they tried, they could not change any of the elements. Hence my only hope of making it back on time was to get a direct flight out of LAX. I got my first lucky break when my client agreed to move the meeting from 9:00 am to 8:00 am. That meant if I was done by 10 am, there was a good chance I could take a direct flight back from LAX airport to Denver. I got a cheap one-way ticket and was committed to give this my best try, but I was not sure I would be able to be there for Raka.

Monday evening I landed in beautiful Burbank, California with one task in hand. I needed the car rental company to allow me to return the car at LAX instead of Burbank. The person behind the counter at Alamo car rental was very helpful. He kept punching all the keys on his keyboard and then would pause with his eyebrows raised indicating, “It is not happening.” Finally he talked to his supervisor to explain to me that my package had a SUV and they do not allow an SUV to be returned to a different location. Instead he can rent me a small car and charge me a drop fee if I wanted to return at LAX. I asked them to downgrade me to any car so that I can return the car at LAX. The word downgrade surprised him. He said he can upgrade but is not authorized to downgrade me. Now to me this was funny. Every time I rent a car, every car rental company gives me upgrade offers but when it is convenient for me to downgrade, they simply refuse to work with me.

Now the practical side of me kicked in. I thought that it was time to give up as I had reached a threshold, but I decided to try a little more, against my comfort zone. I bit the bullet and paid extra to rent the car for a one-way trip to LAX.

Then after dinner when I got to the hotel, Raka called me.
“Dad, did Mom call you?”
I said “No, why?”
Raka said, “Dad my knee is not doing so well! It is swollen. I really need to see the doctor tomorrow. Are you sure you will be here?”

Hearing my little princess in distress is all I needed to motivate myself. I was so glad that I had not given up.

So this morning, I woke up early so that I could drive to LAX a few hours before my meeting and scope the place out and make a plan. As I came to the airport, I realized that the meeting was next to a Westin Hotel and the car rental return was 3 miles away. Returning car before the meeting would only make it easier for me to get to the airport. As I was going through all this planning, I felt I was in the Amazing Race TV show. It was exciting to arrange for a ride from the car rental place to the hotel and now I was at my final leg of the journey.

Now the meeting (yes, the main reason I was in LA) started on time and everything followed as plan and I was done at 10 am. I had 90 minutes to get to my gate. I was nearly sure that I would make it. That is when the CEO I was meeting with told me that shuttle would take at least 30 minutes and he asked me to dash with him so he could give me a ride. Wow! I was thrilled. As he rushed me to the airport, I thanked him repeatedly. He pulled into the airport drop-off area, smiled and said, “Run now and take care of your daughter.”

Everything else went smoothly. My flight landed on time and I picked up Raka and right now we are sitting at a Starbucks across the doctor’s office. She is doing her homework as I type the story of my adventure. Simply amazing. Here is a picture of the amazing visual. I guess I am soaking up this moment. I did not give up, even though I have to confess I was very close to giving up, quite a few times.

Now all I want is the doctor to fix her knee so she can get back to running soon.

{If You Build It, She Will Come!}

2010-08-10T14:13:00.000-06:00

Last weekend I walked out to the backyard to see how my grapevines were doing. I planted them two years back to begin collecting vines for grapes of different flavors. My vision was that one of these days the vine would completely cover the lattice behind it and bear fruit. Raka would look forward to coming to the house to pluck grapes and enjoy the taste of fresh juicy grapes. I have to confess, being a Godfather fan, I could even see myself hanging out around the vines with my grandchild. (No Raka, please, there is no rush.)

As I walked down to the vines and started clearing the area I noticed the most beautiful grapes hanging from a vine. Wow, in only two years I am producing grapes. The more I started looking around the more I saw small groups of grapes everywhere. I had to show it to Raka.

That evening Raka came back home after a long day of camp and then art. After exchanging pleasantries, I nearly dragged her to the back yard. The proud Mr. Green Thumb Dad showed Raka the first harvest of grapes. Raka was fascinated, excited, and she asked me, “Can these be eaten?” I started plucking a few grapes from the vine, selecting the best for her thinking I knew what I was doing. Then I handed over the grapes to her and kept one for me.

We went back inside to the kitchen and Raka washed them and tried a couple. She smiled and said, “They are a little sour.” I was ready now. I was so excited that Raka got a chance to taste the first grapes. Now was my turn. I bit into the grapes and felt a 1000-volt of shock running through me at the sour taste. I looked at Raka and she was smiling as she said, “I told you that they were a little sour.”

I nodded my head, and trashed the semi-eaten grapes. I admired Raka for tasting these sour grapes and playing along with me. A simply amazing moment.

That evening as I started reliving the moment, I realized that this was not the first time Raka has celebrated my green adventures. In 2006, I was trying to work on a vegetable garden. The big harvest was a cabbage, it was simply gigantic. As Raka and I harvested, she posed for me as I took a picture of her holding the cabbage. Right after the picture was taken she ran to the kitchen and put the cabbage in the sink and turned the water on. The cabbage was full of worms. That day I had admired Raka for being a good sport and helping me create special moments out of nothing. I am glad I saved the picture and you can see for yourself my worm eaten monster cabbage. Of course if you take your eyes off the cabbage and look at the most wonderful part of the picture, you will see Raka’s proud smile. She is proud of her dad growing a big worm-filled cabbage.

Thanks Raka. I love you!

{Instant Rewards in an Uneventful Day}

2010-08-03T23:29:00.000-06:00

Today I started work at home with plans that it would be a stay at home day. The day started slow as I was not feeling at the top of my health. Of course my eyes were on the clock on the wall as I waited for 3 o’clock in the afternoon to come. Raka was supposed to be home then for a few minutes before she went to her mother’s place for the evening.

My sluggish day finally found urgency when the clock eventually got to 2:30 pm. I decided to get showered and ready, but as I was coming down the stairs I realized that Raka was already home. She had walked in and started to call me on my phone since I was not in my office nor was I at the door to greet her.

After a hug, she looked at me and said, “Dad, let's go!” I was thoroughly confused. I did not have any plans to go out. I was planning to spend a few minutes with Raka while she was in the house, then get back to work. I liked Raka’s idea to go out, but where were we going?

Raka explained that we are going to Boulder to see her physical therapist. I thought that appointment was tomorrow, but Raka said, “No Dad, it's today. Let’s go.”

I asked for a few minutes since her favorite chicken pot-pie was still in the final stages of cooking. I made a cup of coffee for myself and soon I was in the car, off to Boulder.

Raka was hungry. She finished the pot-pie but as always did not eat the crust. She then drank her mango juice and opened her laptop to work on her essay. I thought to myself, “What a life!” I was talking about Raka’s life, but soon I would realize that my quality of life is also quite special.

As we were driving to Boulder, Raka started telling me about her day. We discussed her first semester of classes for her senior year. She informed me about the IB extended essay question that she was working on. I was hoping she would read her essay to me, but Raka was startled and said, “Dad, it is a 4,000 word essay, and I am only at 1,000 words..."

As I started listening to Raka’s P.O.V. on what U.N. should do about Tibet, I realized one more time how mature my daughter has become. Her research was thorough and her point of view had strong rationale behind it. Simply amazing. The rest of the journey to Boulder and back we talked and she shed more light on the issues and events in her life. Finally, as I ran out of smart conversation topics, she started multi-tasking: listening to music, playing solitaire, texting her friends, and talking to me. My baby is now a cool teenager. As I admired this cool teenager next to me, I realized how lucky I was to be able to work from home, to be able to drop everything at a moment’s notice to enjoy this special, uneventful day.

I guess the reward comes, I just had to be patient as I never expected the day to turn out this way. I get to go to bed with tons of memories, smiling as I relive our conversation.

{On the Road With My Daughter}

2010-08-03T23:16:00.000-06:00

{Self Reflection}

2010-07-28T07:52:00.000-06:00

-Arjun Sen

{A Lucky Break}

2010-07-28T07:50:00.000-06:00

Summer means more time for me with Raka. She works with me and hangs out with me which means I get to see her more. It’s kind of cool.

But it has its share of challenges too. Raka now drives on her own and is trying to find her own social life. As a dad, I have to find the right point of balance, discipline, and boundaries.

One such challenge happened last week. We had another uneventful day at home and Raka was getting restless. I completely understand that for me an uneventful day may be a welcome change but for a teenager it may be downright boring. So at 5:30 in the evening Raka told me that she was going out with two girls Amy and Amy. The girls were taking Raka out for a surprise. I did not like the surprise part at all. I raised my eyebrows and promptly enquired where she was going. Raka was the smarter of the two of us as she responded back by saying, “Dad, if I knew where they were taking me it would not be a surprise.”

I consented to allow her to go on the strange outing as long as she informed me where she was once she got to the surprise spot. She agreed and then left promptly.

Within minutes of her leaving I got a call from her. She and her friends were planning to play fugitive in their neighborhood. Fugitive is the modern day version of hide n seek, where the seeker drives in a car to imitate the police. That whole thing with cars, and then it being played at night did not seem to be a “fun game” for me. It even sounded kind of dangerous.

I asked Raka what time she would be back. Her response was 11:00. I was startled. “11:00? That is not acceptable.”

Raka then pleaded her case that included amazing logic like, “I am a senior now. “ “It is summer and everyone plays outside at night.” All these were not touching me or making me change my decision. Finally I stated that I needed to meet the girls she was out with for me to consider any time beyond 10:00.

Raka and her friends agreed and came over. I discussed with both and it seemed that they agreed in principle. Then I offered them food and they obliged immediately. After the kids ate grilled chicken it was close to 7:30. The kids were ready to leave but then I offered them a supreme movie watching experience. They were excited and soon they started watching a movie. It was 9:30. Now they could play fugitive for one hour.

That night I nervously sat near the window as Raka was out. I was proud that as a dad I put all my effort into keeping the kids safe, but I wanted her home.

Raka came home a few minutes after the designated return time. She complained that that game of fugitive was too short. I nodded as I knew that the short game was not an accident. I asked myself,
“Was this a coincidence? Was the chicken dinner and the movie a ploy to keep the kids home for a large part of the evening? Did I do right by delaying their fugitive game?” I thought and then told myself that I was happy that they were safe, I was happy that they had a good dinner, and I was happy they had enjoyed the evening.

No, I seriously had no regrets.

{Not Again!}

2010-07-20T19:48:00.000-06:00

A few months back Raka told me that we needed to arrange for her senior pictures. I was excited as I thought we would go to the backyard and take a few pictures and then she would choose the best one. Somehow Raka read my mind and informed me that this was serious business. There was one studio all her friends were going to and she had to go there too. In mind I kept grumbling inaudibly, “Does it have to be so complicated? Why can’t I do it myself?”

She gave me the number for Vision Photography and I reluctantly called them. To my surprise there was a 45 day wait. The only day I could book was for the middle of July. As the balance was more towards demand than supply, I was smart enough to take the date.

As the date approached, Raka started prepping for the day. Eight sets of wardrobe changes, hair done the day before and on the day of the event, then as I drove her to the studio she was putting lotion on her hands and touching up on her nail polish. “Wow,” I told myself, “Isn’t it amazing how times change? It was only two years back that she was selected for the school soccer team. She lay on the practice putting green with her new uniform on as I took some cool pictures to forward to friends and family. I guess she is growing up… but still, a studio?”

I realized that my disbelief would ruin her moment as she was thoroughly excited about the moment and I was kinda blah about it. I dropped her at the studio, and then went to a nearby Noodles & Company to have a quick business meeting. When I returned to the studio, I was informed that Raka was at the last phase of her session. When I walked around back, there Raka was, getting ready to change into her running uniform with Dave, the photographer, ready to walk Raka to the side street for the final picture. When I saw Dave in action and Raka smile in pride as she felt important, I realized this was the right decision. Just like I had initially thought of celebrating Raka’s sweet sixteenth birthday at Dave & Buster’s and then with some sweet prompting from her moved it to a French restaurant in downtown Denver, this time, not taking the pictures myself and bringing her to the studio was the right idea. It was right because the smile on Raka’s face during the photo shoot was priceless.

And why else was the one moment of watching Dave take a picture of my daughter worth it. Hmmm. Instead of explaining let me just show you the evidence:

{How Could I Do That?}

2010-07-13T22:00:00.001-06:00

When Raka and I first rode bikes together it was cute to watch her try to keep up with me. Now when Raka and I ride our bikes to the park, she thinks it’s cute for me to try to keep up with her! It was amazing to see her in front of me on the way to the park last week. I remember the two of us riding around the same Cherry Creek Reservoir seven years back. I just cannot believe how time has simply whizzed past me! My baby is now a beautiful young lady!

A few times during our ride last week the chain in her bike had to be fixed and she pulled to the side of the path to do it herself. I remember the days when she would make me fix her bike chain, but today it is different. As we rode, we talked. The talk was initially casual and then it became quite deep.

As our conversation went on, I asked her something that was bothering me. Bothering is too strong a word, I should say instead that it was perplexing me. I asked her why is it that she and I are both interested in photography, but she does not take interest in the pictures I take. I also asked her why does not take pictures with me.

The whole thing was kinda odd.

Then Raka dropped the bomb on me. “Dad, of course you do not remember that one of the first times I took pictures, you were the first to see them. You did not like them, Dad. You said that the pictures were bad. It is only when Oni kaka (uncle) and Mom looked at the pictures that I got praise and I continued to take pictures.”

I was stunned. I was in shock. Did I not learn anything from days of painting the red sky? I was hurt, embarrassed and ashamed. It was true that we do not make the same mistakes that were made to us, we invent new mistakes. I was glad that in this case my brother and Raka’s mom were there to nullify my stupidity.

In my shame and embarrassment, I tried to argue with Raka. “Why would you listen to me when I know nothing about photography?” Raka simply stared at me. I knew that there was no denying that I had screwed up.

The rest of the evening I apologized and gave her hugs. Finally at the end of the evening, I told her that my mistake was in the past and I am seriously sorry about it, but I do not want that mistake to remain in the present. Raka looked at me. With kindness yet assertiveness, she said, “Dad I had forgiven you long time back,” But she did not finish her statement, she had not forgotten. It made me sad.

The next day I got her a cute cup that is for cool photographers. I had gotten it for her birthday, but I decided to get it out early. She smiled at me and said, “You are still trying hard to come back, aren’t you?” She smiled.

Yes I was. It hurts to know that I was insensitive enough to hurt you, my baby. I know the pain is still real as you will not show me the pictures that I passed my judgment on. Maybe someday.

{First Time Riding a Bike}

2010-07-07T07:42:00.002-06:00

{Getting another question wrong? I do not think so!}

2010-07-06T23:02:00.006-06:00

Raka was on the track and cross country teams her junior year of high school. It has been incredibly exciting to see her reach and break her own PR’s (personal records, yes this abbreviation stumped me too), but towards the end of the running year, she picked up a knee injury and has been in physical therapy and rehab ever since.

As part of rehab she has been riding her bike to the Cherry Creek Reservoir. Last week as she was planning to start her ride late in the evening, I decided to join her. Before the ride our conversation was focused on each of our first bike riding days. I was telling her all about how I learned to ride a bike when I was visiting a dear uncle and aunt of mine in Assam, located in northeast India. As I was talking about my bike riding story, I paused and saw Raka staring at me. Lately I have become good at reading her question correctly just from her expressions.

This time I looked at her and said, “I know you are wondering if I remember when you learned to ride your bike.” I did not wait for her to confirm. Instead I confidently went on to say, “It was at our house in Louisville, KY, when your mom and I were pushing your bike and holding onto you as you sat on your cute pink bike.”

I have to confess, the pink part was a safe guess as Raka’s favorite colors those days were pink, purple, silver, and gold. I went on, “You looked back at us constantly as if you did not trust your mom or me. Then you were gone. You did not even realize when you had slipped out our hands and started riding the bike on your own, down the driveway, then into the neighbor’s yard.” Wow, I could remember her expression that night so many years ago when she got back from her short ride. She was proud.

Raka interrupted me and said, “Nope. I learned how to ride my bike in Denver.”

I was perplexed. How could I get this wrong, my memory was so vivid? Then Raka helped me with the clarification, “In Louisville, I learned how to ride with the training wheels on. The real bike riding started in Denver.”

I didn’t want to argue, but I knew this time I did know the answer.

{Standing in line for my new Apple iPhone}

2010-06-24T07:56:00.000-06:00

My daughter, my niece, and I woke up at 5:30 in the morning to get to the Cherry Creek Mall because today the new iPhone came out. Of course as a dad I did not want to miss this opportunity to get the first iPhone on the first day to make my daughter smile.

We got here at the mall at 6:15 and to my utter surprise, we are now sitting in a line behind at least 100 people. There are other dads and moms here with kids, there business professionals ready to go to office, there are young couples, people with colorful hair, and people from all walks of life standing or sitting in line. The Apple team is out walking around with bottled water, coffee, and breakfast from Einstein Bros Bagels. As I look around I see there are a few things that are common among all of us. All of us have either an iPhone or an iPod in hand and some of us are sitting with Macs or iPads on our lap, but there is no one with a pc around. I am starting to understand that this is the coming out of the cult of iPhone followers. All of us could have waited for two weeks to get the new iPhone without any line or wait, but somehow all of us felt it was important to come out and show our support for the favorite “working toy” in our life. Now that I get it, I am surprised that there is no one who has their face painted; no one has banners to cheer. I guess we, the iPhone gang, are a group of somewhat quiet introverts who are simply happy to be here.

The store will open at 7a.m. and iPhone sales start at 9a.m. I am not sure whether I will get the iPhone for my daughter today, but I am glad I am here, out with my daughter and my niece, out with other members of the iPhone gang. I get it. This is what brand insistence is. We are not here for a phone, we are not here for an upgrade, we are here to celebrate a way of life around our Macs, our iPods, our iPhones, and our iPads that we all discovered in our own ways. Marketing gurus may call it a brand insistence but to me it is truly a way of life.

{Father's Day}

2010-06-15T17:55:00.000-06:00

Father’s Day, June 16 2010

Every year, as father’s day approaches and marks the middle of summer, stores are filled with last minute gifts to celebrate fathers. But what are we really celebrating? Why do we need to give gifts to fathers? Or better, what does a father want most for a fathers day gift?

History of father’s day

Even though both father’s day and mother’s day celebrations started nearly at the same time in the beginning of the twentieth century, historically mother’s day has been celebrated by different cultures around the world for hundreds of years. But there is not any significant mention of father’s day celebration before the beginning of the twentieth century.

There are different stories about how father’s day started. Based on wilstar.com, (author Jerry Wilson) Sonora Dodd of Washington was the first person who had the idea of honoring her father, William Smart, a single dad. Sonora’s reason for celebration was driven by the selflessness her father had shown in raising his six children as a single parent, and she saw her father as a courageous, selfless, and loving man. Sonora's father was born in June, so she chose to hold the first Father's Day celebration in June.

Father’s Day in our family

Personally I am tickled to learn it was a daughter who stepped up and was the first to recognize her dad. It tells me that the spirit I see in Raka to make her dad a better father has been felt by daughters over the years to celebrate their dads.

I do not know about you, but I enjoy father’s day celebrations as I see the excitement in Raka’s eyes. The thoughtfulness with which she makes a card for me or bakes my favorite food, the clearly open way she tries to hide her excitement and preparation for the day, and finally when she displays her amazing set of gifts and cards to me, with pride, all makes the day worth it. Yes the gifts are precious, but what is priceless is her confidence as a daughter as she celebrates her dad. Little does she know that her dad could not be the dad without her love and affection. In fact, deep inside I simply want to reach out and give her a big hug and say, “baby, it is all about you”.

A father’s day is another day for a dad to appreciate his daughter, be proud of her, and see her slowly blossom into the young lady of tomorrow. And to all father’s of sons, please do not get me wrong. Yes, I know sons are special too, and each of you appreciate moments with your sons. But I have to say, that daughters are a tiny bit more special than sons. ☺

Happy Fathers Day to all fathers. And more than that, all of us dads send our love to our children as this day is more to celebrate you.

{The Everyday Moments}

2010-06-11T15:19:00.004-06:00

You don't really understand human nature unless you know why a child on a merry-go-round will wave at his parents every time around - and why his parents will always wave back. ~William D. Tammeus

People doing their day to day jobs, working long hours all within a big city, yet one can still see, even around an old New York City diner, the simple things that matter most, like a smile, good company, or even a wave from a child on a merry-go-round.

My daughter inspired me to notice the little things, and I hope you do the same.

Again, I would love to send a copy of the book to anyone who identifies any of the people in these photos!

{The Everyday Moments}

2010-06-01T19:44:00.004-06:00

A major theme in my education from my daughter has been to cherish the small moments that are all too easy to overlook. The days I get to help her with math and the lunches I get to drop off at school for her are the best times, but only when I stop to really digest it.

She taught me that.

Last week I was in New York and my lesson from my daughter inspired a series of photographs I hope will inspire you to take notice of the simple things that make life what it is.

Enjoy.

If anyone can identify any of the persons in the pictures, I would love to send them copies of the book!

{5 Dos & Donts to Reconnect with your Kids: DONT #5}

2010-05-25T23:00:00.000-06:00

#5: DON’T Lie

This is a tough one. There are times we, as adults, live in worlds of half-truths. Professionally, there may be some times when we stretch the truth to our benefit, but these are justifications that do not work in my relationship with my daughter. Yes, there are times I will define a hard boundary and tell her that I do not want to talk to her about something, but it is critical to never lie. I still remember the day after September 11, when I lied to my daughter about moving back to Denver. She poked me on my chest and said, “Dad, I love you, so you do not have to lie to me. If you really wanted to go to Denver, by now we would have gone back.”

{5 Dos & Donts to Reconnect with your Kids: DONT #4}

2010-05-19T09:11:00.000-06:00

#4: DON’T Make A Child Feel Like Your Second Choice

Your child is not a second choice in life. Yes, work and other commitments in life put pressure on us, and none of us have more than 24 hours in a day. Whenever possible, let your child be your first choice, and don’t be tempted by less important tasks that could take your time away from him or her. Let your child know that he or she is your priority in life.

{5 Dos & Donts to Reconnect with your Kids: DONT #3}

2010-05-11T23:00:00.002-06:00

#3: DON’T Cancel at the Last Minute

Just like there are cancellation policies with hotels and airlines, I too have made my own cancellation policy with my daughter. No cancellation is allowed within 24 hours of an event without a major penalty. This is a matter of respecting your child, and is the only way a parent can expect to receive the same genuine respect in return. Rescheduling on your child’s terms, along with a sincere apology, is the only honorable thing to do.

{5 Dos & Donts to Reconnect with your Kids: DONT #2}

2010-05-05T07:49:00.000-06:00

#2: Don't Bribe

It is tempting to bribe our children when we cannot spend adequate time with them. I look at the toys and teddy bears stacked in my daughter’s room, each one with a story behind it. In most cases, I missed an opportunity to be with her so I distracted her with gifts so that I would not have to see her disappointment. Today I know that the gift of time is the only bribe that I can use that really works like magic.

{5 Dos & Donts to Reconnect with your Kids: DONT #1}

2010-04-27T23:37:00.000-06:00

#1: DON’T Multitask

We parents get irritated when we talk to our children and they look at us blankly while earphones blast music into their ears, but guess who they learned it from?

How do you think they became experts at this?

Isn’t this the same thing we do when our child comes to talk to us and we look at our smart phone and nod our head as we listen?

{5 Dos & Donts to Reconnect with your Kids: DO #5}

2010-04-20T23:30:00.000-06:00

#5: Say “I love you” and Hug Often

We all love our children, so why not let it show?

Saying I love you and hugging my daughter every chance I get allows me not to regret a single missed opportunity.

Example:

There are times now when she comes to me and asks, “Can I get a hug, Dad?” If at times she does not respond to my hugs, seeing a teenager embarrassed by my show of affection is a cherished memory too.

{5 Dos & Donts to Reconnect with your Kids: DO #4}

2010-04-13T23:00:00.000-06:00

Do #4: Listen to Unreasonable Requests
Children, like parents, have problems and challenges in their lives which seem like huge obstacles to them. From time to time, they may confront you with what initially seems to be an unreasonable request. Before you shut a child down with an “absolutely not!” try to view the request from their perspective. Children have many constraints -- they cannot go anywhere without you or buy anything without you -- and you will stay more connected to your child by empathizing and by listening to their concerns. This is your opportunity to be a super-hero in your child’s eyes.

Example:
When my daughter told me that she and her three friends needed a ride to Boulder (42 miles each way) at 7:15 a.m. on a Saturday morning, and that I would need to wait there for three to seven hours to give them a ride home, I considered this an unreasonable request. But, I allowed her to talk and when she explained to me that the school had stopped providing bus support to Model UN meets due to recent budget cuts, I reconsidered. My daughter and her friends had worked hard to attend this event. I then was honored that I was the parent selected for the job. Of course, it was a long day, but when my daughter gave me a big hug as she retired to bed that night, it made it feel like the best day of my life.

{5 Dos & Donts to Reconnect with your Kids: DO #3}

2010-04-06T23:59:00.001-06:00

Do #3: Put Your Child’s Events on Your Calendar
This is a simple way of staying connected to the activities and events of importance to your child and that make up his/her life.

Example:
By putting all of Raka’s events on my corporate calendar, I am able to stay connected to my daughter’s life. If there is an event occurring that is open to parents, such as a track meet or similar event, I can try to coordinate my schedule to be there. If that’s not possible, at the very least I can make certain it’s the first thing I ask her about at home that evening. I even include Raka’s important test and project due dates on my calendar so that I am available to discuss and/or to assist her in studying.

{5 Dos & Donts to Reconnect with your Kids: DO #2}

2010-03-30T16:22:00.003-06:00

Do #2: Feed Your Way In

There is nothing more incredible than seeing the reaction of a child when you cook his/her favorite meal and serve it with style -- and not just on their birthday.

Example:

When I make an elaborate lobster ravioli dinner for my daughter on a school night, it is fun to see her surprise and delight when she walks into the kitchen and begins to register what is going on. Halfway through the meal she will look up and say, “May I have some water?” As I give a glass of water to my hungry child gulping down the meal, I smile and say to myself, “No thanks necessary, it is my pleasure to serve you.”

{5 Do's & Don'ts to Reconnect with your Kids: DO #1}

2010-03-23T21:28:00.002-06:00

With Mother’s Day six weeks from this weekend and Father’s Day another four weeks after, I decided to start thinking back about lessons I've learned as a dad. I have put together some "do's and don'ts for parents" that I have learned from my experiences. For those who have read the book, know that the one thing I can brag about my batting average as a dad is that it is getting better. Hence, take everything with a pinch of salt. Of course I would love to hear about your do's and don'ts too! Feel free to leave your comments under the post!

Do #1: Be Present

Time is the most amazing gift a parent can give their child. And when you make your gift of time a surprise, the time is magnified in your child’s eyes and becomes ingrained in their heart.

Example: I try to work from home as much as I can, and my reward comes when I get this call from school: “Dad, are you home?” I know she needs me to run something to her at school. The phone call gives me the same excitement Batman has when he sees his call in the sky of Gotham. I listen, grab what she needs, and dash out in my dad-mobile. Getting to see her for a second as I drop off what she needs is a reward in itself. And if I can remember to bring along a bottle of Gatorade or water, I can score some extra credit.

{In Search of a Non-Working Parent}

2010-03-17T07:55:00.001-06:00

When thinking about "working parents", it is easy to focus on parents working away from home. But then I have to ask myself the question, is the role of a stay-at-home parent any less stressful in today’s world?

To answer the question, I wrote a job description for today’s stay-at-home parent:

WANTED: CEO of Home

EXPERIENCE REQUIREMENTS: must have

Visionary, can see the big picture
Human resources experience in managing a tough team
Excels in project management without using the most updated technological tools
Finance wizard who can meet budgetary needs (for ever increasing costs of academics and activities) without a government bail-out
Conflict resolution expert
Crisis management guru
Positive personality
A great listener
Can multitask
Will never, ever quit
Is happy to have the job (and not expect any appreciation)

Now that is not one tough job, a job not for the faint of heart. In fact, it is equally as challenging (if not more) as any job away from home!

{Being Hard on Myself}

2010-03-10T09:58:00.001-07:00

Before I posted last week's blog post, I sent out a pre-posting to a select few fans of the blog to get their reaction. The reason for asking for feedback was simple. I wrote from my heart but was unsure. I know each of you have a busy life and was not sure how many of you will be able to take time to write back.

I was amazed when I got the feedback. Wow! I was touched. Of course each of you are very involved in your relationships in life and your feedback helped me understand that there are different ways to “BE PRESENT” in the relationships in our life. But the part a lot of you disagreed with me was about me being “too hard on myself for past failures.”

I thought for a while and I humbly disagree with you all on this issue. This works in the business world, but not in relationships. Let me tell you two stories from my childhood which have never stopped haunting me.

The first one, those of you who read the book know. It is about my debut as a soccer goalie when I was in grade three. The debut was not a “great launch” to my soccer career as I had more than my fair share of embarrassing moments when I let two goals in. The worse thing, however was when I slipped and fell as I went to retrieve the ball from the net. None of those mattered as much as seeing my parents watching behind the goal line and finding my failure of slipping funny. I have heard that story repeated over and over by my parents to my friends, but I have yet to find it funny.

The story that left a deep bruise in me happened when I was just two years old. I have to confess that I do not remember the event happening but I have heard the story repeated over and over. Every time my parents start telling the “stale story,” I become uncomfortable. I know every pause in the story. The story goes as follows: I was two years old and living with my parents in New Delhi. They were renting the second floor of a flat. On weekends, my dad would sit and read the newspaper and I would be outside playing on the balcony.

On this particular day, my dad was reading his newspaper, my mom was in the kitchen making breakfast, and I was out on the balcony, with my clothes off, enjoying life and maybe scaring passersby. My mom made toasted bread for dad and I. That day there was no butter in the house. So dad was a bit disappointed as he chewed on the toast without butter between sipping his cup of tea. Finally he noticed that I was trying to reach out to him from the window that opened to the balcony. I had my partially eaten toast with butter on it.

This upset my dad. He called my mom and asked why I got toast with butter and not he. My mom was perplexed. They both rushed to me to see how I got butter on my toast.

This is the part where my parents will pause when they tell the story. It is a pause before the grand finale. Then they would laugh out loud as my dad discloses to my friends, “Arjun’s mom and I realized that Arjun had pottied and very neatly spread it on his toast, as he ate it.” The whole room at that point will burst into laughter. The only person who doesn’t laugh is me.

It was only a few years back when I heard the story for the hundredth time, I intervened and told my parents that I do not want to hear that story again. “This story is not funny! This is a story of neglect and recklessness. This is a story that makes me sad and hurt!”

As you can see, the events of the past that we face as a child stay with us. They shape our lives and our memories. Crossing the hills of happy moments leaves a sweet memory mark on us, but the gorges of pain cut a wound that is deep and the pain stays forever.

Hence when I am being hard on myself, I know that I cannot change the past. To me, however, that is the driver and constant reminder to stay in the present and not go back to the past.

{Coming Out of H-I-B-E-R-N-A-T-I-O-N}

2010-03-01T13:50:00.004-07:00

Three Weeks of Thinking

The year started with a storm. Raka’s second half of her Junior year has been the most challenging time in her academic life thus far. She is dealing with it her own way. Her way of planning or preparing may fall short of my expectations at times, but she is still reaching her desired level of success, in her own way. My challenge has been to sit back and not try to push her be a mini-me. Instead, I am enjoying watching her blossom into “Raka”.

I have not focused on book sales and speaking since the end of the year. I have been feeling a lot of guilt for losing the momentum, primarily because of my withdrawn effort. On top of this, my work pressure has increased and I have had some minor health hiccups. All together, life has been like a pressure cooker that may explode any minute.

In that scenario, I still felt compelled to blog every Tuesday night. Some of the blog postings have been forced and not spontaneous. Finally I told myself, enough is enough. I need a break. I need to think.

As I started thinking, I realized that I was very confused and conflicted. I felt that I was failing as a business person to push the book, but I was happy as a dad. As this was a familiar conflict of the past, I decided to reach deep inside for guidance. The search helped me connect five guiding principles I developed for myself as I wrote the book. Even though I claim the honor of developing the guiding principles, I have to confess all these are a result of the seeds planted by my Maiji (grandma) and nurtured by Raka. Once I integrated the five guiding principles, my answer was right in front of me.

Before I share the answer, let me share the five guiding principles:

Guiding Principle 1: Vision of the book is just to touch one more person.

Just like any other author, I too dream that the book will be featured as a “national bestseller” and I will be sitting across from Oprah or Ellen discussing the book. But was that the vision of the book? Or is that my professional ambition is trying to hijack the vision of the book? The vision of book was very clearly defined by Raka as “to touch one more person, and after you touch one more person, touch the next person.” This vision is a personal and authentic extension of what Raka has done by touching my life. So why am I feeling guilty about not pushing book sales?

Hence the time is now to rededicate myself back to the original vision. I guess just like any addiction, the seeds of the weed-like addiction inside of me are trying to jump out again. In a moment like this, it is better to go back to the basics and find the value and vision that helped me kill the weed the first time.

Guiding Principle 2: Share, don’t teach.

Being a consultant on the professional side and a past marketing faculty member at the University of Colorado, Boulder, I have a natural tendency to teach. But in this case, am I qualified to teach? What do I know about parenting? I do not know how to raise a boy. I do not have experience in dealing with other challenges other parents face regularly. Does the fact that my name is on the cover of a book, give me the right to teach? As I kept pondering, a quote that Maiji used to repeat regularly came back to me, “people who can do, people who cannot teach.” Am I trying to cover up my failures by trying to be a pseudo expert? This made me realize that I’d better go back to sharing. Sharing is creating an environment of information sharing where two people talk about their vulnerabilities and in the process recommit to be better parents.

Guiding Principle 3: Being born again in a “relationship” does not give bragging rights.

Yes, today I can say with a straight face that I am a better father, as every day I try to be present in my daughter’s life. I am not there yet and will never be, but the effort is the only measure of the focus of my journey. The bigger question is, does me being a better father now in any way erase the pain caused my daughter in the past. Can I ever forget her statement when she told me, “Dad, you broke my little heart?” No Arjun, no. Today’s effort does not vindicate me of past failures.

Maiji used to say that in life, one can either forgive or forget, but not both. In a relationship, one forgives and gives you a second chance but never forgets. The smallest of things revokes memories of past failures. I have seen that in Raka when I talk about companies offering me jobs, her first worry is that, will this goofball leave again. Sorry Raka, I am trying hard, and I promise to strive hard to not being absent ever again. When one cannot forgive, they choose to forget in the case the person chooses to put the relationship away in a compartment and move forward. I am glad I woke up before Raka decided to forget me instead of forgiving.

Guiding Principle 4: Every success comes at a price.

Yes, I want to go out there and spread the message of the book, but as I learned from my corporate days, every effort comes at a price and the price is usually time taken away from those close to you. In this case, any time I take to spread the message will be time I take time away from Raka. Is that in the spirit of Raising a Father?

I do not think so.

Guiding Principle 5: I am ready to fail in every other part of life and in every other relationship as long as I can give an A+ to myself as a father.

This to me is the simplest of guiding principles, but has a few elements.

First it goes back to the conflict of balance vs. choice. Balance is what we all strive for, but those dear to us must know, that if one has to choose, he/she will choose the dear one over everything else. That is what instills confidence.

Second, it’s about clear prioritization. I know I want to do well in every aspect of my life as I am driven and a proficient multi-tasker. But I am not a super human (yet). Hence I need to clearly define the non-negotiable areas if things get stressed. As I asked the question, the answer came to me. Being a dad who is always present is non-negotiable, I cannot lose sight of that. I know I will not fail in other areas, but if I get one A+ on my report card, I will make sure that it is in the subject of being a father.

The important part, the report card I give myself. All problems always arose for me when I let others judge my success in life. Instead, let me go back to the basics and wrest control of my life and only I will pass the judgment of my failure.

As I processed through all this, I felt relieved. It felt like the sun was breaking through after a series of cloudy days. I was smiling again. I could see the rainbow again and as I took a few steps forward, my rainbow buddy, Raka was there to hold my hand.

What does all this mean?

Nothing much other than that I feel good again, the same way I felt the day after I quit the corporate world. A fresh restart is all I gave myself and this time I did not cause pain to Raka. I booked our five day road trip in the east coast over Raka’s spring break to visit colleges. In fact Raka will be visiting colleges and I will be simply staring at the marvel in my life, a miracle, who, from a little child, is now growing into a young lady who is ready to spread her wings and fly into the outer world. I know as she flies out, she will look back at me for an instant and say, “I love you daddy.”

I love you too Raka.

{We have a problem. A math problem.}

2010-02-09T20:13:00.001-07:00

Raka is in her junior year. As the semester started in January, more and more I have started seeing a different side of her. In fact, the transformation has been dramatic. The pressure of school has increased significantly. I see her up late at night or walking into the kitchen with her pjs on, hair all unruly, glasses on, and walking absent minded with her biology or math book. When I place a cup of hot chocolate or some freshly baked cookies or a few slices of ripe mangoes next to her, she takes her spectacled eyes off her biology book and looks at me. Then after pause, a cute smile, a “thank you” and “I love you dad”, she always goes back into her textbooks.

I'm starting to realize that my baby is starting to take full charge over her own life and getting ready to drive her own destiny.

In one of these moments, I stared down at her math book. She was going through arithmetic series and geometric series and then progressing to limits. My mind went back to the days of me being in class 10 in India where I went through all this. So I could not resist asking her, “So baby, have you reached the Limits, yet?”

She said “Yes.”

Of course the smarty pants in me uttered: “No baby, how can you reach Limits? Mathematically, limits is not something one reaches.”

Raka raised her eyebrows and said “Ha ha ha, very funny.” That started our math journey.

I am trying to stay ahead of the class and twice a week discuss her progress with her. Being a strategic marketing person, I had to start by developing a vision for the journey. The vision was “Learn-Act-Teach”, where Raka would first learn the concept, get rewarded for the learning in tests, and then teach me and her friends the concepts. This would help her cement the concept.

This math connection has helped me get closer to her and now we are getting into solving problems. The other night we were at the dining table trying to solve to the Tower of Hanoi problem. http://mathforum.org/mathimages/index.php/Towers_of_Hanoi

Together we went till 4 pieces. That night, the geeky dad in me worked out all the solutions on a spreadsheet till 7 pieces. Soon I will solve till 8 pieces and then I'll really impress her.

Good luck to you with the Tower of Hanoi, and once you solve it, you may want to pass it onto me.

{...while parents dream big, their children focus on the small stuff...}

2010-02-02T23:55:00.000-07:00

It's such a simple concept that we as parents often cant wrap our heads around the perspective of our children. We may see the next Michael Jordan, while they see a fun game with their friends. This is a great New York Times article by MARK HYMAN on parents wrapping their heads around the world through their kids' eyes:

A Survey of Youth Sports Finds Winning Isn’t the Only Thing

At a time when sports tutors seem as plentiful as piano teachers and high school games are routinely nationally televised, Peter Barston has learned something important about youth sports.

Chang W. Lee/The New York Times
Mike Barston, left, with his son Peter, who has toured youth leagues in Darien, Conn., asking youngsters their reasons for playing sports.

Adults may lean toward turning children’s games into an approximation of professional sports. But ask young players what they want, and the answer can be disarmingly simple. More than training to be a Super Bowl star, more than even winning, youngsters play sports for fun — at least they do in Darien, Conn., Barston said.

He has not proved that scientifically. But a research project spearheaded by Barston, a sophomore at Fairfield Prep, makes an intriguing case that while parents dream big, their children focus on the small stuff.
Since August, Barston has toured youth leagues in Darien, asking this question: Why do you play sports?
So far, he has polled about 255 members of the Darien Junior Football League, who range from fourth grade to eighth grade, and 470 boys and girls in the same grades from the Darien Y.M.C.A. basketball league. Barston, 15, has begun to survey players in the local softball program. Next up are baseball players and, if he receives permission from league officials, lacrosse players.

The project was born of curiosity — and happenstance. Last summer, his father, Mike, who serves on the board of the junior baseball league, attended a workshop by the Positive Coaching Alliance, a national organization advocating a kinder youth sports culture. The presentation referred to a 20-year-old study by scientists at Michigan State’s Institute for the Study of Youth Sports who had polled young athletes about their reasons for participating in sports.

Barston and his 12-year-old brother, Stephen, took that survey at their father’s urging. Then, with his father’s encouragement, Barston began pondering a local version.

“I thought it would be really interesting to update it for Darien,” he said.

The survey is a single page listing 11 reasons children might have for playing sports, including the laid-back (to have fun, to make friends) and the purposeful (to win, to earn a college scholarship). Like the Michigan State researchers, Barston instructed the Darien players to assign points based on the importance of the reasons for a total of 100.

From the mound of data he gathered, Barston found a striking pattern. No matter how he categorized the responses, the most important reason youngsters gave for playing sports was the same: to have fun. That was the top response from football and basketball players, from boys and from girls, and from players in each grade from fourth to eighth. In the basketball survey, 95 percent of boys and 98 percent of girls cited fun as a reason for playing, nearly twice the number who mentioned winning.

Barston does not say that his poll is statistically accurate. But it is a window into what offensive linemen and power forwards think about sports and might say to their parents and coaches — if they were asked.
“It shows kids are out there to get away from their lives and have a good time with their friends,” Barston, a recreation league second baseman, said. “They’re not out there just to win.”

His preliminary findings are not far from what the Michigan State researchers Martha Ewing and Vern Seefeldt concluded in 1989. Their study of 28,000 boys and girls around the country asked, Why do you play sports? The top answer then was “fun,” followed by “to do something I’m good at” and “to improve my skills.” “Winning” did not crack the top 10.

When told about Barston’s survey, Ewing said: “It’s a great project. Within communities, parents and sport organizations need to do more of it — talk to the athletes."

Barston said his initial reason for undertaking the survey was simply to compare the views of young athletes today with those from 20 years ago. He estimated that he had spent more than 100 hours on the project, and now he is thinking bigger.

Barston has been toying with the idea of starting a Web site where he would post data and encourage other young people to start “Why Do You Play?” projects.

“The Web site idea is very preliminary,” he said. “I am trying to think of ways to spread the word and get other people to do this in their hometowns.”

Parents and league officials in Darien have praised Barston’s efforts. Guy Wisinski, a member of the junior football league’s board, said the survey was a “touch of reality” for adults.

“It reminds us why kids play sports in the first place,” he said. “It’s not about winning a championship in the fourth grade and having that be a life achievement.”

{Not giving up is the only recipe for change}

2010-01-26T17:06:00.003-07:00

Life has been very frantic the last few days. Raka is the final stretch of her Junior year, and I am getting more and more used to her coming to the kitchen in her PJs, with a lost look and her hair all messed up as she immerses heavily into academics. Food and hugs are all she needs and I have lots of both to offer. Seeing her huddle with her friends on occasional study groups helps me realize that this is a completely new generation. They are happy. They are goofy and strange, unless it is time for them to be serious. They care about each other and the world they live in. And they are not afraid to be different and express their feelings and opinions.

I have been amazed by the determination to be happy expressed by the youth of today. As I was thinking all of these things, I got this video called Lost Generation forwarded to me, created for the AARP U@50 video contest. I was not sure what to expect.

Fortunately I opened it. Of course it is a very creative message, but what touched me was the fact that this new generation is aware of the challenges they face and their determination that they will make the world a better place. Wow! I am glad that they think this way. For us older folks, (just kidding) we should not be barriers, we need to get out of the way to let them make the world a better place.

{Haitian Orphans Airlifted to U.S.}

2010-01-19T23:05:00.000-07:00

http://www.nytimes.com/2010/01/20/world/americas/20orphans.html?hp

{A SpecialTreat for my Daughter}

2010-01-13T06:17:00.001-07:00

{No Cookies for Oprah! Sorry!}

2010-01-12T17:09:00.004-07:00

The last week was a transition week with Raka and I both returning from India and immersing back into our daily routine. For me the immersion was easy as I work at my own pace. But for Raka, bad jet-lag made her return less than smooth. She had finals scheduled within a week of school reopening, she needed to connect with all her friends, and resume her cross-country training. Compared to her, my life is simple.

As her finals start today, yesterday I made "the cookie" for her finals. This time the theme was oranges. The cookie dough had blended orange flavored chocolates that I have been collecting over the last few months and then I added a few tangerines too for texture. The cookie was not a surprise as Raka has caught on by now and knew what I was up to. As I was baking, she kept telling me how it was making the whole house smell nice and she could not wait to try the cookie. Finally at 3:15pm Sunday afternoon, I placed her cookie in front of her and within seconds she was digging into it. She had her glasses on, was still wearing her track pants, her hair was messy, and she had the rustic "studying very hard and focused" look.

Now came the hard part. A few days back I discussed with my marketing team at work how to push the book forward. One of the strategies we talked about was to target Oprah. The plan was simple. Send a big piece of the cookie to Oprah and tell her that she was getting this special cookie and connect it to the book. From a buzz marketing point of view, I think this was a perfect plan.

But as I looked at the rest of the cookie on the baking tray, my thoughts changed. Why Oprah? No doubt she is a special person and has touched millions of lives across the planet, but is she the most deserved of the special "Raka cookie"? Most probably the cookie would not even get to her and some intern would eat it. And even if it got to her, could she truly appreciate the specialness of the cookie without reading the significance of the story?

As these thoughts rushed through my mind, I kept nodding my head as I realized that the targeting Oprah strategy was not in the true spirit of the book. Why does she get this special cookie? Instead shouldn’t the slice of the cookie also go to Raka’s friends Priya and Rachael who are there for Raka every day? And of course Surya, another friend of Raka's who is also a great friend who is always helpful and has a smile on his face.
So move over Oprah. No cookie for you, at least for now!

Priya, Rachel, and Surya thank you all for being such nice and caring friends to my Raka.

Good luck to all of you on your exams!

{Running Another Marathon? Maybe...}

2010-01-07T07:56:00.002-07:00

Happy New Year!

Thank you for reading the blog.

This year I woke up on New Years Day started thinking what should be my goal for the year. I went through all the regular resolutions, e.g. eat better, work out, and other things, but nothing stood out. Then my thoughts went back to 2008 New Years Day when I decided to run my first marathon. I know, I know, those of you who know me well and know that I finished at nearly 15 min a mile pace, cannot call my adventure "running". But still, for a then nearly 44 year old to cross the finish line, to me that was an achievement of a lifetime.

But when I think back, the biggest moment that day was not finishing the marathon. As I sluggishly and with doubt and hesitation crossed the starting line, I had one thought in mind. My baby (she was 14 that time) will be at mile 22.5 waiting for me. I had done the math and my ETA to see my daughter was in four and half hours, or sooner if there was any tail wind. I am just kidding about the tail wind, but I really needed any “divine intervention” as referred to by Samuel Jackson in Pulp Fiction.

My legs were moving, hands too, and I was counting the miles to see Raka. After seventeen miles, when my body was fatigued, and even I could see myself running in slow motion, I was not sure if I could go any further. The maximum I had ever run before was nearly eighteen miles. So could I go further today? My mind was ready to call it a day when the answer came to me. The reason I could do it today is because Raka is waiting for me. She has been waiting for the last four hours waiting for her dad, in anticipation, with worry and full of patience. I could not let her down. Not today.

As all these self motivating and inspiring thoughts came to my mind, I realized the dreaded uphill had started. The next three miles and beyond to get to Raka would be toughest. Instead of a tail-wind, the “divine intervention” had thrown in a challenging head wind in my face. It felt like a dare. My thoughts went back to the days of corporate world when Raka always waited for me patiently. Yes, there were days I let her down. And the count of those let downs were more than a few. I am not proud of those days. But today is a different story. I told myself, “Raka’s dad, move your hands and your legs, as your princess is waiting.”

Raka did not wait at the marker we had planned. She had started walking towards me. When my tired eyes spotted her, I do not know how I found the energy to run towards her. She ran to me and we hugged. There was my baby, in my arms. “I made it Raka,” I told myself, “I did not let you down. Not this time baby.”

Those who saw Raka and I meet tell me that was one of the sweetest things they have ever seen. I nod my head and said, “yep, I know. I know because this time I did not give up.”

Yes, those of you who read the book know that Raka and I walked and eventually crossed the finish line.
As I think of that moment, I feel extremely greedy. Can I do it again? Is it in me to experience that moment of running to my daughter? I do not know, but as I start training, that is the moment I will be aspiring to reach.

Please wish me luck and a lot of tail wind. :)

{End of the Marathon with my Daughter}

2010-01-05T17:50:00.000-07:00

{Grandma's House}

2009-12-29T23:11:00.000-07:00

{Childhood memories of Grandma, Maiji}

2009-12-29T23:03:00.004-07:00

Just got back from a short trip to India.

During my stay in Kolkata, I slept in Maiji’s bed. I set my alarm for 4am to wake up and experience that feeling; Maiji used to wake me up exactly at that time, every day. As I woke up, I looked my study desk in the room next door. Then I got out of bed, used the restroom quickly, and sat at my desk, the way I did every morning for twelve years.

As I sat at my study desk, I looked at Maiji’s bed. The visual was very familiar. I kept thinking what kind of commitment it took for 12 years, without fail, to wake up a grandson every morning so that his career would be built on a solid base. I guess the commitment to be a parent and to be present in a child's life does not come easy.

Simply amazing.

What was missing was Maiji’s breakfast served to me at my desk as I studied.