I have serious trust issues. I have issues with trusting my brain to remember the important stuff! And therefore, I have this habit of writing down my thoughts.

What I am sharing below are some of the snippets of the thought process that I went through last year as I was trying to get some perspective in my life. Basically, some clarity on:

• what is it that “really” and not “supposedly”makes me happy
• what is it that I am truly “meant to do” and not “supposed to do”.

This really helped me remove one of the many layers of mental clutter that clouds my thinking. I hope it helps you too.

**********

The one undeniable and inescapable fact in my life is that:

I want to be happy and I also need money.

We chase the latter to get to the former, but it often ends up creating more distance between the two. I think the fault does not lie in the fact that we are chasing money, but in the fact that:

• the process of earning the money is not making us happy. We are too focused on the target rather than the journey
• we just want to earn “a lot” of money without really understanding how much money we really need to be happy.

If we really look at the above two facts, they are actually interlinked, not just with each other, but with our own definition of happiness. The amount of money we really need should be ideally guided by the kind of life that we truly want to live. And the kind of life that we truly want to live should be ideally guided by our definition of what would make our life a happy life.

So the practical question really is how do I earn my living and be happy in the process.

For me it boils down to doing something that I am passionate about and being my best and successful in that. In a nutshell, “I want to be happy in chasing my happiness”. Yes, I want it all. My husband and friends often accuse me of wanting my cake and eating it too… (Duh…why else would I bake the cake in the first place…to not eat it????)

But it’s often not an easy journey. My personal experience is that the first step towards chasing real happiness causes real misery.

Here’s my analysis based on what I went through. 

Chasing real happiness requires us to move away from our closely and dearly held notions, beliefs and values, that the society had imprinted on our brains from a very early and impressionable age. These beliefs imprinted in our minds give us a ‘one size fits all’ definition of what constitutes happiness. As it turns out, we all come in different shapes and sizes.

Majority of us grew up believing and cherishing these pre-defined parameters of happiness. We believe that the more parameters we can fulfill, the more happiness we can achieve. And thus begins our journey to chase what we are wired to believe. And while we are at it, we don’t realize when this supposedly personal journey of life becomes a full-fledged rat race.

It’s amazing, this rat race. This is a race where the finishing line is also racing away from us. So irrespective of whether we are the hare or the tortoise in this race, we can never really touch our finish line because it keeps teasing and taunting us with “catch me if you can”. So it’s not a surprise that happiness seems like a mirage. 

But then, somewhere along the race, some people notice this paradox and begin to question. They question the dynamics of this race and they question the authenticity of the moving goal post. And against all the practical wisdom acquired over the years, they do the unthinkable….they Pause.

It’s amazing, this pause. Somehow, this pause is more demanding and challenging than the actual running. But these warriors brave the pause and begin to realize that in the current dynamics of life, they can never touch their goal if it keeps running faster than them. They figure out that their chase for this “pre-defined happiness” is not really making them happy. They realize that they need to re-assess and re-define their very own meaning of happiness. 

And thus begins a new journey.

It’s amazing, this new journey. It forces us to carve our own track and field event within the Olympics of humanity. This journey makes us look inside rather than outside for answers, something we are not accustomed to. And as we are attempting to do this arduous task, we have to somehow find the courage to not get lured by the old race, which now looks like a cake walk. We become like recovering addicts who are searching for a detox plan that is deeply lost in the pool of our vices. Nothing can be more brutally demanding of our undeterred focus than this.

And then, upon somehow finding some of the answers of what we are meant to do, begins yet another new journey. 

It’s amazing, this new journey. This journey is like no other. This is a journey where for the first time, the goalpost is steadfast and awaits with open arms. This is a journey where traversing becomes like a series of self-choreographed dance moves and where rhythm is more important than the technique.

This is a journey where the steps define the direction. This is a journey where the feet pave the path.

And that’s how it should be.

(Please read the previous two posts to get the background)

Let me apologise for the long delay in getting this post out. Even though most of you were not sitting at the edge of your seats desperately waiting for this post, I still apologise.

So sliding back to skiing…

On Monday, following my third Ski Saturday, after Rajiv and kids went off to tackle the outside world, I got down to tackling my inside world. Here, my armchair needs a special mention. This is my most favourite place to sit in the entire home and this is where I relax, recharge and sometimes get little sparks of enlightenment, especially after a few sips of C₂H₅OH.

I sat down with my tea (that’s my morning drink, not the other one) and began pondering about my stints, or should I say ‘stunts’ at the Ski slopes. If my family and friends were to associate one word with me, majority of them would associate me with energy or passion. Well, I didn’t actually conduct a survey or anything like that. This is just hearsay… as in, they say and I hear. However, on the slopes I was completely devoid of this energy and passion that is an inherent part of my being. My fear of height, slopes and speed, in all their glorious permutations and combinations, sucked out all this energy and passion out of me, leaving me high and dry, or rather, high and wet.

After this awareness, which was hardly a rocket science, I began exploring ways to get on top of it, at least conceptually to begin with. Here comes the great “Guru Google”. Sometimes I wonder that if today God wanted to understand the inexplicable behaviour of His own two-legged creation on earth, He would most definitely try out google, just to reconfirm His theory of where He went wrong…. phew, I got all my “H”s right!

After going through a gamut of exhausting literature, I finally came across this fantastic book called “Inner Skiing” by Tim Gallwey and Robert Kriegel (https://www.goodreads.com/book/show/1318881.Inner_Skiing). This book changed me overnight and I am not kidding. I do not say this about too many non-fiction books (simply because I haven’t read too many of them), but what would have probably taken me atleast two ski seasons to get over my fear, this book did in just a week, and that too right in the cozy comfort of my home, without lifting a finger (except to turn pages on kindle).

“Inner Skiing” gently untangled my thinking, caught in the web of fear, slowly, one knot at a time.

This book was not only full of meaningful explanations, examples and reasons of why someone like me was not able to make any progress in skiing, but it also had tips, tricks and tools to help me overcome them. For someone like me who is driven by logical analysis, this worked wonders. I would definitely and highly recommend this book to anyone wanting to learn skiing, or any other sport for that matter.

According to Inner Skiing, the reason that we don’t perform well is not that we don’t have the ability, but because we somehow interfere with it.

I have tried to highlight at the end of the post the basic concept that formed the core of this book, by picking up relevant texts from the book to make it clearer.

CAUTION: Due to the seriousness of the text, some of you may suffer unbearable jaw ache due to non-stop yawning or intensive pain in the neck due to constantly falling asleep in sitting posture. Nonetheless, I would still recommend you to have some painkiller ready and give it a go.

So, basically what Inner Skiing says is that there are two ‘Selfs’ within us.

Self 1 is the ego mind that wants to be in control all the time. It is the mind that is never quiet and is doing all the talking, judging, worrying and self-doubting. Self 1 thinks it knows the best and continuously instructs, criticises and doubts our capabilities.

On the slopes, Self 1 is the inner voice that keeps yelling:

“Bend your knees, stupid!

“That was a lousy turn. You didn’t edge enough.”

“You’ll never learn”

“You are too uncoordinated for this sport”

“This slope is too steep for you”

Self 2, on the other hand, is our physical body with all its inherent potential that is actually doing all the work. It is the basic intelligence that includes the central nervous system, the brain and other parts of our sensory apparatus we don’t even know about.  Self 2 learns by discovery…by actually ‘doing’ rather than by ‘thinking of doing’. It lets experience be the guide. It senses and observes, constantly picking up information and making appropriate adjustments in its actions and direction.

A baby, when he first attempts to walk, falls. But when he falls, his body absorbs all the details of the fall. Without any pre-conceived judgements or notions, his Self 2 automatically adjusts the next step he takes, making it longer or shorter, straightening the position of the head to correct for imbalance. As his body continues to receive more detailed information with each succeeding step, it is able to refine the new movement. Only because his Self 1 is quiet, is his Self 2 able to feel all these subtle sensations, and only then does any learning take place.

So in a nutshell, the only way to learn is to quieten Self 1, to be present, have complete confidence in Self 2 and let Self 2 do its job. 

*******

So my friends, that’s what I did the next Saturday. I became more present. Instead of thinking that I might fall before actually falling, I quietened my Self 1 and just skied. I fell when I fell, not before that, and definitely not in my mind. And as I became more present and mindful, I gave my Self 2 the chance that it deserved, to absorb the experiences of my movements and falls. Automatically, without my knowledge, my body began correcting and adjusting itself to this new way of motion. And for the first time, I truly began to enjoy skiing with all its ups and downs. So much so that some of my group mates began noticing the significant leap of improvement in my skiing and in my attitude.

What happened to the fear of the slopes? It got reduced, but it was still very much there…it just took another form. Instead of looking at the slopes with fear, I began looking at it as a challenge. And thus I crossed that thin line to join on the other side, the rest of my fellow learners, who looked at skiing as an activity filled with fun, excitement and accomplishment.

Cherry on the icing on the cake… I won the gold medal in the final race in the beginner’s group.

Enough said!

ACHTUNG!!! ACHTUNG!!!

As you would have noticed, this post is a deviation from the “If Not Now…” series. 

In the last couple of weeks, I have rediscovered the joy of writing letters. Of course these letters were written in the form of an email, but without any of the shortcuts that are so typical of the electronic medium. The letter that I am sharing below is something I wrote yesterday after attending the “Curriculum Morning” at school.

To give you all some background… In India, my sons studied in The Shriram Millennium School in Noida. It is one of the top schools in Noida, with a good mix of academics and extra-curricular activities. In Munich, my children go to an International school. The International Baccalaureate system gives tremendous emphasis on holistic learning based on Inquiry, Action and Reflection, where children are compulsorily required to take a lot of ownership. According to me, it is one of the best ways of making children learn and to prepare them for the future. My younger son, Aahaan, who is in Grade 3 has made tremendous progress under this teaching method. However, I felt that my elder son Tanay, who has always been one of the top performers in all his classes in India,  took the easy route in the IB school, since there are no exams (till grade 7) and not much academic pressure vis-a-vis Indian schools. I wrote this letter to communicate this concern to the Deputy Principal.

********

Dear Mr XXXXX,

Thank you for the information and clarifications provided in today’s MYP2 Curriculum evening. I am glad that in terms of shared values, the school, and both Rajiv and I, are mostly on the same page.

Today, I had raised a concern regarding motivating children to do better. You had very rightly pointed out the importance of ‘Intrinsic Motivation’ as compared to ‘External Motivation”. Belonging to the generation of “Rat-racers”, and experiencing the brunt of achieving a finite dose of success with infinite dose of stress, I can not agree more, that putting undue pressure on children to perform academically is not the right way of moulding them for the future.

However, I also believe that being content in life has nothing to do with being mediocre. One can be content and still be the best. As new borns and toddlers teach us everyday, each individual has an ability to be better than their previous selves. The keyword being “their previous selves” and not “others”. And I think this is the key difference between a rat-race and real growth.    

But the question is that amidst so many distractions, how do we ensure that children are intrinsically motivated to better themselves. How can we as teachers and parents ensure that they experience the joy of travelling this path of continuous evolution, where each step results in Self motivation to take the next higher step.

I can only talk about my son Tanay (Grade 7C). My worry for him is not about his grades, but the fact that I am seeing him slowly getting comfortable with Mediocrity. I know what he is capable of, but seeing him settle for half of what he is capable of is what concerns me. It’s as if he has lost self motivation and drive to do his best, and is becoming content with a half-hearted effort.

I DO NOT want more tests or homework to push him. What I would really like for him is that he realises his own potential and makes an honest effort to achieve that.

While we as parents continue to encourage him (and sometimes push him because of frustration), I would really like the support of school in this endeavour.

Looking forward to hearing your views, suggestions, action and ideas on this.

Thank you and Best Regards,

Asmita Rajiv   

***********

The reason I am sharing this letter is because I think, irrespective of the kind of schools, many of us, parents, find ourselves in similar situation. In case you share this boat with me, please feel free to use the above letter in order to share your concerns with your respective school.

Bis Bald.

Mit freundlichen Grüßen,

Asmita Rajiv 

(Please read the previous post to get the background)

So, there I was, walking towards my ski instructor, well adorned with my paraphernalia and embellished by the fall that had hurt my self confidence more than my limbs. He took us to a beginners area to teach us the basics. It was a rather flat area where for the first time ever I put on my skis and felt my feet losing their power over movement. The ski instructor demonstrated to us how to practice walking, sliding, jumping and braking. A non-beginner might dismiss this off like one shrugs off specks of dandruff from their collars. But neither was the snow anywhere close to dandruff and nor was I anywhere close to a non-beginner.

So to me, it seemed like a never-ending series of unattainable tasks. How unattainable you ask? Extremely, I say. When we were practicing walking, I was sliding and falling; when we were practicing sliding, I was only falling and when we were practicing braking, I would continue sliding till my fall broke my motion. Oh and I forgot about jumping…are you kidding me, as if I would even try something like that!

Long story short, I just could not get myself to do a simple act of moving a few meters without going down. I was more horizontal than vertical. I loved the snow so much that all I wanted to do was to lay down in its cold loving embrace. But my instructor wouldn’t let me. He would keep urging me to go on. In his heavily German accented English, he would have a lot of useful tips for my other better group mates. But for me, he had only a few things to say:

“Asmeeeta !!! Get up!”

“Asmeeeeeeta !!! Don’t be so stiff, loosen up!”

“Asmeeeeeeeeta!!! Don’t lean back!”

“Asmeeeeeeeeeeta!!! Look where you are going!”

You guessed it right…each sentence brought a higher level of concern and with it, a greater level of exasperation. My moves and falls were so rhythmic and coordinated, that together, they were orchestrating a dance of their own. I think a keen observer could have predicted my next fall based on the number of steps I took forward. While it was a no brainer and an effortless task for me to fall down, but getting up from the snow was a different ball game altogether. How should I explain getting up after the fall….Hmmm, I don’t know…I never climbed Mount Everest before!

After about two and a half hours of frustration (mind you, only mine and my instructor’s…others were doing just fine), we had our lunch break. It was such a relief. It was as if a thirsty person in the Sahara desert gets a chilled Weißbier, or a geek lost in the middle of nowhere gets a free wifi.

Second half was no better than the first, only this time, we went to an actual slope. Two of our group mates were promoted to the higher level group. Since ours was the beginner’s group, they could not send me back to any lower group. Well, there was a beginner’s kids group, but they were so much better than me! So the instructor and the rest of the group mates were stuck with me. I don’t think my group mates minded me though. They were really sweet and nice, and moreover, looking at how I was doing, they must have been feeling really really proud of themselves.

The next three Saturdays were more or less a carbon copy of each other, give or take a few. I made some progress, but nothing worth mentioning. There were a couple of facts that I learned about myself:

1. Me and frictionless surfaces don’t go together
2. Me, frictionless surfaces and slopes were my worst nightmare ever
3. Me, frictionless surfaces, slopes and speed were any alchemist’s worst nightmare ever

Then there was this T-bar. To put mildly, I absolutely, decisively, conclusively, unconditionally, hated it, detested it, loathed it, despised it and abhorred it. It’s a disgrace to the skiing community, if not to the entire human race. I fail to comprehend how these developed countries still continue to have such ancient means of transportation, and that too after charging us so much money for skiing.

I think I should just stop ranting now and explain what a T-bar is. Simply put, it is an inverted T-shaped lift bar that takes the skier up the hill. To get on to it, one has to precisely position oneself with skies positioned parallel, one has to stand with knees slightly bent and as the T-bar approaches, hold onto it and lean against it gently without putting too much weight or sit on it and simply let it pull you upwards. OMG, for me that’s too many things to remember. To cut a long story short, I simply lost count of how many times I fell from the T-bar.

Every time I fell, the entire ski lift would be stopped for safety reasons, so that I could safely get out of the way to prevent any further injuries to myself. To save me from the embarrassment, sometimes, there were other people too who fell down from the T-bar. But they were mostly small children. And that didn’t really help boost my ego. But to be honest, I was so desperate that I did try to take solace from the small children falling off the T-bars.

At this point of time, many of you might be thinking that I am the typical drama queen incarnate and that I am some empress of exaggeration. But nothing could be farther from the truth. What I wrote above really happened… all of it.

I remember on one of the Saturdays, we were skiing down a slope that was a bit steeper than the usual. Half-way on the slope, I was so paralysed with fear that I used all my might to stop myself from sliding down. In spite of my instructor’s constant encouragement to let go, I refused to budge even a centimeter. It was as if my skis were stuck to the snow. I just could not move. I was petrified. My entire body became like a rock in an awkward tilted position. I still remember how every muscle and bone in my body hurt. But my fear of sliding down the slope uncontrollably was so great, that I could not move an inch.

And then I decided, enough was enough. I somehow gathered courage to remove my skis, left them there and just sat down on the slope. I said out aloud “f*** it”and I sat down on the snow. And as I sat down, my body felt numb and all I could hear was my heart beat racing.

How did I eventually get down the slope, you ask? Well, after I got control of my being, I took some deep breaths and then I finally decided to have fun. I slid down the slope on my bottoms like a child. And boy, that was fun. Other skiers watched me in amusement, but I didn’t care. I was having so much fun. And after I reached the bottom, I laid down on my back and made snow angels !!! I was so happy and relieved !

That night when I returned home, I told myself that something needs to be different. Being raised in a middle-class Indian family, quitting after paying money was simply not an option. So the only choice I had was to get better at skiing, not just falling. And better I became.

From that Sunday till the next Saturday, I changed. It was as if I was not the same person anymore. And the next Saturday, when I stepped out of the bus into the Austrian Alps, for the first time in my skiing life, I knew that I was going to have fun. And boy, did I have some fun!!!

You guessed it…to know more, you wait more!

Yes, that has been my mantra and guiding force since I began comfortably (for most parts) settling down in Munich. Also, having entered into the fourth decade might have played an important role in my embracing this philosophy. Like I said, Munich has been my tryst with challenging my mental blocks and pushing my boundaries. And it began with skiing.

When I first read the school information about their ski training, I was very sure to enrol both my children into it. But I never thought of trying it out myself. Then my dear friend Preeti Kulkarni, who had also moved to Munich from India around the same time as me, suggested that I should give it a try. She had skied a few times before and suggested that it would be more fun if both the families did it together. Having set foot on a snow capped mountain only once or twice in my life time, let alone going on the ski slopes, my clueless ignorant self had absolutely no idea what skiing entailed. Had I even a slightest inkling about what it demands, I probably would not have been so fast in committing to it. They don’t say ‘ignorance is bliss’ for nothing.

Beautiful landscape on the way

So this journey, which for me was nothing less than a nerve wrecking battle with the almighty gravity, began with the most fun activity… shopping. Even though I could not understand why everything needed to be thick, heavy and most uncomfortable, I was curious and enamoured by the fuss of it all.

We had committed seven Saturdays to skiing, and as is the law of nature, it began with the first Saturday. We woke up at 4 am, got ready, packed some sandwiches, carried all our equipment which had already started to feel like a ton to me, went to Stanberg station and boarded the bus to go to the beautiful snow capped mountains of Austria. There were two buses for the kids and two for the parents. One of the parent’s buses in particular was especially a rocking one….literally, and I am neither kidding nor exaggerating. The bus journey was so much fun.

The Rocking Bus!

We met several other parents, most of whom were pro at skiing. I remember how keenly I listened to their stories. They were using jargons that I had never heard before and were describing their past adventures and especially mis adventures in greater detail. Looking at my awe-filled, clueless, curious and nervous face, many of them told me that it’s going to be ok and I will enjoy my first day tremendously. Ya Right!

As the destination approached, everyone began wearing their ski boots…easy peasy, one would say. I had tried my boots on a few days ago, so how difficult could it be. Ahem, I realised that my feet and the boots were not the best of pals. First of all I could not distinguish the right boot from the left, then my feet refused to go inside the boots…they just refused, they simply said NO. My right ankle hated the boot so much that it threw a tantrum and threatened to have a ligament injury if I forced it into the shoe. Somehow I stuffed them in, but then the boots refused to buckle.They didn’t want anything to do with my feet either and they just refused to buckle, they simply said NO. Finally, Rajiv came to my rescue and  the deed finally got done. All this in the narrow leg space of the bus with the bus moving. Then came on the helmet. Thankfully, it liked my head and created no fuss.

Armed with ski costume, boots, helmet and gloves, I was ready to go, mind you, ready to go, not rearing to go. Each step in the ski boots was heavy and rigid and my full attention was on ensuring how not to fall on the second one. I actually felt like an Astronaut. It was as if we were all getting out of the bus to go on a space mission! I don’t want to exaggerate here, but I think Astronauts have it a little easy….you see, at least they don’t have to fight the gravity. The have to fight the lack of it, which is another story…their story, not mine.

My son, Tanay

And so there I was, struggling to carry my poles and skis (man, they are heavy), struggling to put one step ahead of the other, struggling to keep myself upright on snow, struggling to ensure that my skis don’t bang into someone’s head, struggling to ensure that my head doesn’t bang on their skis (which would have most likely been on account of my fault not theres). Yes, struggling seemed to be the running theme of the day. And I didn’t enjoy it a bit.

As I was moving towards the ski instructor, I had only one thought in my mind…is it worth it?

And as I saw all the children and adults moving about with their gears with the ease of a skilful navigator, I wondered…will I ever be able to do that?

And as I had my first fall while walking towards my instructor, I worried…will I quit?

But no, I didn’t…else I probably wouldn’t be writing about it.

So stay tuned for the rest of the (mis)adventure.

Ah-choo!!! Ah-choo!!!

Yes, I had caught the virus of blogging lethargy. My immune system must have been really weak to have caught the virus so early on; and by early I mean after writing four posts!   

Its not that I have not been writing all this while. I have penned down several poems and have been writing a lot on my iPhone notes. But the ‘blogethargy‘ virus had found a nice cozy home (read expansive mansion) inside my bloodstream, and despite the nudges and jolts from my conscience and from my husband, I speedily surrendered to the inertia. Talk about oxymorons!

Then one fine day in Barcelona where I had gone to exhibit my paintings, I lost my iPhone. I did manage to magically recover all my writings, but that incident was like a strong antibiotic shot for my virus. Ahem, did I mention that this happened in December 2016? Yes, eight months ago! As they say “old viruses die hard”. I truly believe that everything is a process, yes, even the split second decisions of our lives. Except that in this case my split second was eight months long.

Nonetheless, what is important is that I have finally decided to commit to being a “regular” blogger. As you might have noticed, I am keeping it a little vague here. Well, it’s so that I can come to my own defence when my commitment is judged at a gunpoint! It’s called self-preservation you know.

As many of you know, since my last post I have moved to Munich with my family, and in these last two years Munich has given me so much more than I had expected.

My time so far in Munich has been my stint as an explorer. What have I explored? I have explored the obscure, unknown but mostly hidden territories within myself. And boy, there were some! I have unlearned some, re-learned some and often done both in that order.

I pushed myself beyond my comfort zone as a part of many of these unlearning and re-learning pursuits, and this has caused me to suffer embarrassment, pain, hurt, guilt and sometimes self-imposed ridicule, but I enjoyed every bit of it. Each of these small leaps deserve a mention, and mention I will, in my subsequent blogs.

Munich has given me so many of my “Firsts”. Each giving me a sense of amour propre, exhilaration and most importantly a sense of liberation. I realised that these tiny, and apparently insignificant, liberations are enough to unshackle the mind from its own captivity…slowly, one knot at a time.

I am energised and looking forward to sharing more with you…after all I am a  recovering Blogethargic !

A few days back both my sons (9 and 6 years old) returned from school and announced that they have taken a pledge of not bursting crackers on Diwali. They had a very serious and ‘we mean business’ look in their eyes. Last year too my elder son kept his word in spite of many temptations from friends and relatives. It’s a commendable achievement and I salute them. But the best part was that they didn’t stop at that. They decided to start a “No Crackers Club” in our apartment. Along with two more friends, they set out for a door to door campaign and got signatures of several residents! I am so proud of these kids. It’s moments like these when I realize that as parents we are doing at least some things right.

Everyone is aware of the ill effects of bursting crackers… air pollution, noise pollution, child labour that goes into its manufacturing, amount of garbage it generates, accidents, fire incidents, etc. etc. etc. But this post is not about elaborating on these already known facts, but to simply ask a few questions. So here goes:

1. Why do we still turn blind eyes and deaf ears to all the ill effects? Are we waiting for some kind of a legal ban to make changes? Have we become such an insensitive society that for the sake of momentary pleasure, we justify all the negatives by a one-liner, “Oh come on! this is only for a day and comes once a year?”
2. I understand that celebrating Diwali the way we do is deeply ingrained in the fiber of our society, but for the larger good, why can’t we make small sacrifices?
3. Why do we want the whole light and sound package and not be satisfied with the Laxmi Puja, sweets and the lights?
4. Can’t we just keep all that hard earned money on the road and put them on fire?
5. If smoking in public places is banned, shouldn’t bursting crackers be banned too as they are equally harmful if not more
6. Why not organize a music concert with a great laser show instead, at least the noise would be pleasant to the ears.
7. And finally, if a child can say no to crackers, why can’t we?

So what’s it going to be for you….Yes, No or Maybe?