Storytime Tapestry Newsletter

The newsletter devoted to spreading love and cultural awareness around the world.

August 6, 2007

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Today’s Stories

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MY 60^TH BIRTHDAY

Surinder Kaur Jandu

My children (Two sons and their wives) tried to celebrate my 60^th Birthday two years ago.  I suspected them trying to arrange a surprise party for me. I overheard my youngest son David making a secret phone call to his in-laws in Coventry, only an hour’s drive to my house. There also were other secret goings on in my house. My older son Somi, (short for Sominder), owns a house two doors away from my house, which is vacant and used for surprise parties, they were spending lot of time there.

I confronted them and said, “If you are trying to arrange a party for me, forget it. I do not like surprise parties or other parties for MY birthday. There is nothing special about my birthday. It only reminds me of my old age. I do not feel old and in any way, it is not my 60^th birthday yet. I am only 58 and my 60^th is in two years time.”

I explained, “According to my passport and my academic reports in my schools, colleges and Universities, I am 60 but my real biological 60^th birthday is in 2007.”

What happened was that my older sister took us about 8 girls to our village primary school for girls and told that lady teacher (There was only one teacher running this village school) that all the girls were five years old.

The teacher looked at me and compared me with others and said, “This girl cannot be the same age as others because she is much taller and looks more mature.”

My older sister, who never been to school herself, (Although she was sent to school with her younger sister but they kept fighting with each other and were both sent home.  At the end they were so scared of teachers that they refused to go to school,)--- got confused. My sister wanted to say that I was actually five years old but I grew faster than others and some were even short for their age, but she could not say anything. She just dumped us there and came home. She did not even tell our parents that there was this issue with my age for fear of scolding from parents. The teacher made our dates of birth as she felt fit. As a result, the teacher made me two years older than rest of the girls. That date of my birth was carried on throughout my schooling in India.

I asked my brother to find my real date of birth before I applied for my passport, before coming to England after marriage, but he justified that it would take so long to get all the registers out at the relevant District and it may still be wrong at the end. I was told that only boys get their birth certificates made called “Teva or Janam Kundli” to be checked by Pandits for any forthcoming good/bad influences but girls are sent to another family after marriage and take their good or bad luck/destiny/fortune with them to the other family. When the girls are born, they are only reported by mid-wives that they are born on this day and time to these parents, her father is son of that father, who is son of named father, who lived in that village and so on. The girls are their parents’ first, second, third or-certain number child. They don’t even have their proper names but an imaginary name is made up, before they are given a real name.

So I had no chance of finding my proper date of birth. My mum and other neighbouring women used to sit together doing some sewing, knitting, embroidery or making darrhies, tand talk about the incidents around the birth of their daughters. I heard them talking about my birth that it was month of “Hadh” Indian month for June and a very hot day. My mum came from the field and as soon as she arrived home, the labour pains started. Chachi (Aunty) Swarn Kaur ran to tell my dad about this and asked him to run to the next village to get mid-wife soon. These midwives used to be from lower casts, so lived outside villages in their own small community. They only came to the village to serve people and earn their living.

My dad took his pedal bike out and hurried to the nearby village to get Banti Dai (Mid-wife named Banti). She was the best one from all of them. She knew more about woman's body and her illnesses than any doctor would. She even challenged our local doctor that his own wife was pregnant after messaging her stomach, when doctor placed a bet that she was not. Banti Dai won at the end. Doctor's wife was only pregnant by a couple of weeks.

I was born in the afternoon. The year was the same as when Chachi’s daughter Balbindro was born. Balbindro was two months younger than me. My other aunt’s son was three months older than me and his birth certificate tells the year of  his/my birth, which was 1947 when our India became independent and the time of India /Pakistan partition. This is how my date of birth was identified, middle of June afternoon in 1947, but nobody dared to argue with the teacher or spend time and money on research through the big registers where name could be anything such as: Shinde, Phindu, Nikki, Munni, Bijo, santo, banto or Rajji (meaning house is full, no more girls please.)

Thus I had no choice but to have my wrong date of birth even on my passport, which enabled me to get my passport quickly without much hassle, to join my husband, who was supposedly waiting for me in my supposedly dreamland.

This year I actually became 60 years old by my biological birth as my sons put it. They knew I don’t like a fuss about surprise parties when people come and enjoy food but give a lot of hassle for preparations, organising and hiding from the person with excuses like taking them somewhere else and bringing them home when all the people jump  out at once giving them a heart attack, especially as I am already a heart patient with triple by-pass surgery and a recent angioplasty. I am lucky to be alive after all this and did not want to die on my birthday.

This year they asked me what I wanted, starting with choice of a restaurant when I said I wasn’t too keen on restaurants and they said, “Alright then, we will make some sort of dinner at home.” They looked long faced.

They phoned me from work on the day that they had booked a table at posh Indian restaurant called Feast India and told me to get ready for 7 pm booking. They started getting ready after coming from work. It was Friday and they normally eat out anyway. They checked very carefully what I was wearing and made me change my outfit. When I asked whether to change my jewellery or not, my sons said it was OK and I can keep it on.

 When I came downstairs all ready, they asked me to check my email as my son sent me an email. I checked and there was no mail from him. As I walked into the living room, complaining there was no email from him, they started cheering up and singing happy birthday. They had our dining table decorated with lit up candle on the cake with Happy Birthday on, and a beautiful card from four of them and flowers. After cutting the cake quickly, mentioning we were late for the restaurant, they took a box out and gave me. It was a beautiful gold set with matching earrings. They asked my daughters-in-laws to take my old set off quickly and put a new one on. They also handed me a voucher for a full body message. I spent some time reading the beautiful verses on the most beautiful and big card. I had to take it with me in the car to read it on the way. There were lots of pictures taken with my daughters-in-law and sons hugging me and looking very happy.

I asked my son why he sent me upstairs to check my emails when he did not send me any, he asked me to ignore it. He later told me that it was to send me away while they decorated the table.

We had a beautiful dinner and then the manager of the restaurant came with a cake and candle lighting on it and sang happy birthday. He commented that I did not look like 60 at all. My sons took lots of pictures with our digital camera and got some done by staff for us as a family. I also have a digital camera of my own to take pictures of my Punjabi school children. These pictures are printed on my new printer and new lap-top bought for me from the grant money I raised for my school.

I run a supplementary school teaching Punjabi language to over 100 children. I have a management committee and 5 volunteer teachers plus two paid teachers. I run this school in association with our Sikh Temple, where I am Honorary Education Secretary.

I apply to local Charities for Children and Young People and receive grants for various necessities. This time I applied to get computers and other equipment. I received ?7000 which is equal to over 14000 dollars. This will help to develop and facilitate children’s requirements.

If I run out of the grant then our Sikh temple helps me out-financially as well as offering physical and moral support. I take our pupils out on educational trips several times a year. Last week I took about 50 children and their parents to the National Space Centre, which was enjoyed by everyone. I took lots of pictures at the Space Centre while children were busy enjoying learning about our stars/galaxy and other galaxies beyond and how these discoveries were made. I learned that our planets also die after they run out of their own resources and outside pressure crushes them.

I also attend once a week evening classes at college learning Computerised Business Accounts using SAGE and passed levels one and two First class and am on my third level. I am going on holiday to European countries, including Switzerland, Germany and France soon, paid for by my children.

You must be thinking I am very lucky woman, yes--- but I have also suffered a lot, maybe more than a fair share. My whole life has been a big upheaval and my children are grateful for how I brought them up single-handedly. Now they want me to relax and enjoy my life. I like to keep myself busy helping others. I read and write a lot.

Surinder Kaur Jandu

Email address:surinderjandu@hotmail.com

~**~**~

Take Mother To The Ball Game.
Bill Walker



Mother loved going to the ball games in K.C. My job gave me a chance to go once in a while, and of course that meant mother went also. We would head for K.C about a good 4 hour drive, and watch a game and come home. Now we always figured on doing a few other things, but the game was the closer for the day.

I remember one such day. We started out kind of late, figured on getting to the game at the start which would be 7 PM. We had plenty of time to get to Gates and have some Bar B Q. Mess around a bit and hit the ball park.

For some reason we stopped at the ball park about 4 PM. I got a couple of real good seats, almost right behind home plate, on the first base side. The man who took the money said, game starts in a little bit, tonight is a double header. Gates was out of the picture. We figured dine on over priced hot dogs.

The early crowd was slim, but people were slowly filling up around us. When down the aisle came these two with a couple of sack lunches. Their seats were a few rows in front and to see home plate you also see them.

BEER MAN, yelled a man selling the stuff. Up shot a hand of one of the two. He sold two ice cold ones right there. In a little while BEER MAN. A hand went up. He sold two more. Seemed like about every 1/2 of an inning. BEER MAN.

The game was not going the way these two clowns wanted it to go. I thought it was a good game, but "WHITEY, IT IS TIME, GET A PITCHER."
There was other screams of advice for Whitey from these two.  All they were doing was just giving advice. And Beer Man was almost standing in place, he had a couple guys that was in need of a cold one.

Most every one around us was getting quite a chuckle out of watching those two.. Maybe once in a while one took note of the game. By the start of the second game, those two had loaded up so well, still no trouble for others, I don't to this day know if either one knew who was doing what. Beer Man was selling beer.

Oh K.C manager never took their advice, and still won both games.

Mother, dear mother, she loved going to the games once in a while. I often wonder, about things. I think it was something she learned to like. I remember as a child she never understood it. She said she got tired of hearing games on the radio. TWO AND TWO. But then I started taking her to the games. It was ever so often, I would get a hint, about
let’s go to K.C. I think she enjoyed the sights, the sounds in person.

Bless her soul, how I do miss her and the old ball game.
Tinker and Poo; The Boys Write
http://www.iuniverse.com/bookstore/book_detail.asp?&isbn=0-595-35741-5

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Clara Westerfer, Mark Crider, Rosanne Catalano, Paula Booher, Kay Seefeldt, Mariane Holbrook, Mary Ellen Grisham, Louise Nomani, Sharon Bryant, Angela Walker, Hart and Helen Dowd, Keith Ready, Ginger Morgenstern, Ellie Braun-Haley, Surinder Jandu, Bob Shaw, Carol Meeks, Charlotte Hilliard, Maria Keller