I’m typing this while sipping diet coke..The unmade coffee must be cursing me. “Et tu, Dhwani!” it is saying..
Well, why diet coke? For obvious reasons. It has been three weeks into the holidays and I have nice round belly. If I don’t do something about it, like restart my yoga, I’ll be welcoming an obese-me into the world in the next seven months. Yes, seven. Because I am two months round. While I contemplate as to what my new theme for the month of June will be, the thought of weight loss is constant in my head. Perhaps I should write about my daily attempts at persuading myself to wake and do yoga this month, or will I be venturing too much into a health and fitness blog, disrupting the image of rain, coffee and writing with too much energy? Well, I’d welcome suggestions for the coming month. Until then, I have a few more initiatives I’ve left incomplete!
The tale of how I never mastered Chess or Carnatic music…
When can one understand if the kid of the house is a rebel? Not when he/she gets into bad company, squanders away the father’s hard earned money, no. You realize that when the kid doesn’t take to the prominent skills of the parents. My parents, both are masters of, and passionate about one thing each. My Mom, bless her voice, is a beautiful singer. Every note, nuance is perfect and melodic. My Dad, is an experienced and self-taught Chess player, who worships V. Anand.
The question is, am I a trained singer or a Chess player? NO. Am I a rebel? Well, no. Did I learn, though? Wellll (high-pitched), no…
Not like I never tried! Trust me! Like always, I gave them both a shot. I had music in my blood and well, could sing the initial lessons out of having heard them my entire foetus-hood and childhood, but I suppose, somewhere along the way, I got disinterested or couldn’t deal with being corrected, which, I agree, is a part and parcel of learning something, but I suppose, it was difficult as it was my Mom teaching me. Hard to explain, think for yourself. A parent teaching you could have repercussions. You either take offence sooner or they just correct you a lot because they want you to get that better at it. All in all, I’m still deciding on the date to re-start my singing lessons.
With Dad, well, he is just too good and I am just that bad. I have a mind of my own and know the game. But as I haven’t delved into it a lot, I don’t play it well. Moreover, I liked playing new games, whereas my Dad always wanted to replay the previously played games. True, that was necessary to inculcate the right thought process while executing an attack or defense, I know. I’m a logical person, but with no patience. So, that never happened.
I know, more than me, I suppose, they are more disappointed. I do tell them that maybe the inclination and talent skipped my generation, and their grandkids might be great at it. But I guess they still do hope. Actually, these two are things I can always start now. I mean, I am just 21 and my parents are just going to get more free time now, what with retirement and all. Perhaps, putting this down on paper, rather on virtual paper, will reignite my quest for making my parents happy, if not being passionate about an art and a sport! Fingers crossed, peeps!
P. S. Post after post I can sense you all judging me and understanding that this girl is a lazy lazy lazy girl. But I’ll you wrong by doing yoga!!! My “diet” coke supports me… Happy meditating, singing and chess playing! 🙂