My musings

A milestone and a cross-out

2012-02-23T08:02:00.000+05:30

My first cross-out from the 2012 agenda has been done. A major one at that too. Any guess? Yes, my lil'one is now potty trained. It is almost a month now that he has achieved this milestone. The su-su part is still playing hide and seek but we are getting there too. Slowly but steadily.

For all the heart-ache I had over crossing this hurdle, it really seemed like a dream where R learned to use the potty within one week of us initiating the practice. I had backed off twice earlier, when he first just refused to even sit on it and later when I spotted his trouble of going the western way. We started off quite skeptically this time; the hubby too got involved (perhaps with greater interest than enthusiasm than me). However, we saw that R was far more willing. He didn't jump off the seat, even if the session didn't end up, err..fruitfully, if I can say that. On the fourth or fifth day, he did it successfully. I didn't jump too much. I thought it was a fluke and should not celebrate prematurely. But, he did again on the next day and continued to every single time and day for a week. He even started to warn us before susu happened! We were overjoyed to taste overnight success. Our boy was almost toilet-trained. But, like an evil-eye cast by our own joy, R stopped giving us su-su warnings just as suddenly as he began. Thankfully the potty thing was still on so we decided to count our blessings and be a little patient for the rest of the battle.

I admit it was frustrating to concede to the fact that it might take R a while to get a hang of the whole thing considering the fact that he HAD actually got it right for one whole week. Every time I was confounded by despair, I would cheer myself with the fact that R is trained for potty and that is not to say the least. It is a huge achievement in itself and no mean feat. I had to give the boy credit and applaud him for every time he used the potty for su-su too. This strategy did and still is working in bits and pieces. R is getting there slowly. Although I cannot guess the 'when' part because there are days when he gets it right 7 times on 10 and some days its 3 on 10 and yet on other days, none at all. So, my expectation graph more or less resembles the mountains we used to draw on paper as tiny tots. But, I am now relaxed with the routine and do not get over-worked if he doesn't get it 4 times out of 10. He is getting it right 6 times is well enough and we will eventually get it right all 10 times.

This book helped create a headway

And, I here by award R this certificate

So, yay for us!!!

A musical journey down memory lane

2012-02-21T17:43:00.000+05:30

I was first introduced to Tamil film songs by the better half. Till then only O.P Nayyar, Shankar Jaikishen, Naushad, Salil Choudhary and the likes kept me enthralled with their melodious music. I only knew "Illayaraja" as a famous name and A.R. Rahman was synonymous only with Roja. I was crazy (still am) about old Hindi film songs. My mother would lament that if I had shown half the interest I had for film music in Carnatic classical music, I could have made a good name for myself there! Anyway, that would be a topic for another post.

On our first ever date, after we said yes to one another, my husband, then not even my fiance, gave me a MP3 player. It was his player but he gave it to me upon knowing my liking for music. The player being his had some of his favourite songs. And, nope, none of them were Hindi songs. He doesn't even know any of the Hindi composers I've mentioned above but let's not get into that. That was the beginning of my tryst with Tamil film songs. And, I was (am) impressed by his taste in music. Later, after getting married, I was further introduced to some lovely gems, mostly from the 70s and 80s era, by Illayaraja. And then some more by A.R.Rahman, of the era when he used to truly compose mesmerizing music.Yes, ARR fans can pound me but I maintain that the music in which he used to infuse his soul into every song composed is rarely a norm these days.

Every song has memories associated with it. My early married life has a lot of memories associated with the songs I first listened to. Memories of the days when I was new bride eager to be in the best books of my better half, trying to understand what he liked and experiencing whatever made him happy. Memories of the first house we did up; painstakingly, buying every item with careful thought and consideration, taking our time to fill the house with luxuries, basking in the everyday happiness of hunting and procuring little knick knacks and essentials. Memories of leisurely mornings with hot coffee and warm breakfast; of putting together a meal before the husband came home for lunch; of many a burnt or poorly cooked meal but never a ill-word spoken of it; of the many happy evenings of exploring the city hand in hand; of the dreams we built as a couple.

Of the many songs that take me back to those days, this comes foremost to my mind; a gem by ARR:

Too late to react

2012-02-14T22:22:00.000+05:30

In a split second, she was soaked; or so it seemed. The warmth settled slowly, making a deeper and deeper imprint. She had tried with all her might but could not stop the inevitable. She could help neither..
...from falling in love..or
..the tea from staining her attire. Both had left a deep impact!

Fourth Tuesday prompt from Preeti Shenoy

A relationship takes its time to thicken, fills the pores of your heart and leaves an imprint that takes a long long while to vanish even when the attempt to wash out the memories is in earnest. Much like a tea-stain.

So, can a relationship be compared to a tea-stain? I guess so.

This is my first feeble attempt at a 55er. Happy Valentine's day!

The balancing act

2012-02-14T11:09:00.000+05:30

I am sure most of us parents want to raise well-behaved children and there are no two ways about it. Despite well-meaning intentions, we do go through the terrible phase of tantrums and wild antics along with our kids. It is considered quite normal that kids do misbehave in phases and not abide by the rules laid down. When you view the issue on hand at a micro-level- that is at the parent-child level- it becomes fairly simple to dole out solutions and employ them (maybe successfully too). However, when the same is viewed at a macro-level- that is as a society, where there are other kids to deal with too- the solution rarely ever works.

In my observation, we, as a society, do tend to favour mischievous kids over calmer and quiet kids. Deep down secretly, we wish our kids to do naughty things, so that we can proudly announce their (mis)conducts to others. The naughtiness is compared to Lord Krishna's antics and generally the behaviour is made light of. Yes, let us accept it. How many times have we gloated over the child's good behaviour when we are in public? By good behaviour I mean small things like, when the child shares his toys with others, keeps the woollen cap on when it is windy, doesn't run helter-skelter when the adult is talking to another adult. Yes, we are happy over these facts but don't necessarily make it public. On the other hand, when the child does the opposite, we like to relate the stories to people who may lend a ear, even if it is just to evoke empathy. Of course, when the naughtiness gives way to bratty-ness, we despair and we seek out ways to calm and sober down the child.

Kids, being kids, do not know the difference between being naughty and being a brat. A very thin line there which is crossed even before the parents can blink their eyes. Soon, the cute little naughty child metamorphoses into a tantrum throwing brat who knows how to get its way, anyway. When, at a particular phase of toddler years, the only constant word is "NO" (spoken by both parties), every issue faced is blown out of proportion; it is mostly a war-zone and both the parties end up exasperated and cranky. The more you try to control the situation, the more it threatens to get out of control. You end up doing all that is listed under the 'don't s' of good parenting.

The thin line of indulgence and going overboard with it needs to be tread on carefully each time (by the parents). The acts of the children are innocent but they pick up on our responses and reaction. The fact that we narrate their antics to others in their presence or smile indulgently when they repeat adult-talk because we find it endearing, acts as an encouraging sign. The signal sent to them is that they would get the required attention by doing this and will expect the same response by repeating the same act. There! we are trapped by our innocuous reactions and before we know it, we are on the path to rectify some grave damages.

Then, there are issues faced when you are a socially mingling lot. The right behaviour taught at home is put to test constantly when the child is with the peer-group. Since every parent deals with the terrible twos and threes differently and also because every kid is different, there is bound to be a disconnect when you compare a sample of kids from the same age-group. When a well-behaved kid comes in contact with a no-so-well behaved-one, the parenting skills get under the scanner and need to pass the test each time (for either set of parents). With so many challenges, I wonder how some parents make parenting seem like a cake-walk, while the rest of us huff and puff our way through it!

Parenting never assumed such a gargantuan role in the topics for debate before today. And, it has predictably become the most-stressed job for parents. The more anxious parents are to "get it right", the more stressful the role gets. Excited to-be parents, lay down the ground rules to bring up the unborn and wait anxiously to try out their manual of 'fool-proof' techniques on the kid. Only to realise that their kid turned out to be of a different brand, a manual for which, God forgot to send along. Then comes the trial and testing phase to discover which key fits the lock. Most times there are different keys to the same lock and sometimes there are no keys. Trust in yourself, absolute patience and will-power becomes the power-mantra. In a recent article by Vijay Nagaswami, he writes how and why, despite being indeed a stressful job, parenting needs to be enjoyed. Do read the article. I totally agree with the points he mentioned.

p.s. Also read Why French parents are superior? and let me know your views.

Over a cup of tea

2012-02-07T21:32:00.000+05:30

She looked into the image
to have a peek into and gauge
the person that looked back
to reflect on life, to take stock

the image appeared blur
and she couldn't see so clear
her eyes blinded by pain
of sorrows that pour like rain

As she ponders in silence
over her cuppa, hot and nice
mixed with milk and some spice
she knows then, for she's wise

only leaves that boil,
leave a fragrant trail
ready to make self avail
of tribulations and travail

A nice cup of tea is known to rejuvenate one's body, soul and mind. It unclogs closed pores in the mind, clears foggy thoughts, and charges one to take on the next chapter in life.

The above lines are in reply to Preeti Shenoy's third Tuesday prompt here

There is no trouble so great or grave that cannot be much diminished by a nice cup of tea. ~Bernard-Paul Heroux

To be content in your skin

2012-02-06T10:42:00.000+05:30

I am jealous. Of people who write so well. Of people who converse so well. Of people who make friends so easily. Of people who look so confident and sure of themselves wherever they are. Of people who can make small talk and not make it sound awkward or deliberate but as though they would love to know you. There are clearly two categories here: One, that strives to get noticed and the other that effortlessly gets noticed. (Of course, there are arguments about the second category that the strife wasn't forall to see.) Both categories are talented and am not saying it is sheer luck that worked in favour of the latter.

Some people just have it in them. It's one thing to be good at something but another to command fan following and respect for that talent. It is never easy to win respect or awe from others, especially from your contemporaries, and once you do, you know you are there. Call it charisma, style, the X-factor- there is definitely the extra edge-whatever it is-that clearly makes the popular stand out in a crowd of equally good and sometimes better people.

It makes emulation for others even more tough. Not because the opportunity gets any lesser. But because, the bar is already raised so high that it becomes difficult to handle your own expectations. It is alright to say that whatever you do, if you do it from the heart, the rest will follow. That does not make decisions easier. Or for that matter the journey. Of course, it depends on where you want to reach and how you consider your journey to be. For some, it doesn't matter where they are heading, they just enjoy the journey and it shows in their work. However it is difficult for many, for instance like me, who judge my own actions by the response I get from people and doubt myself each time I meet with a unsatisfactory results. I get bogged down easily. I am not one of the self-motivated types. I am like a leech on to a plant of approval and thrive only on being assured and reassured of myself.

When you look up to someone from your own field, you admire his work and aspire to get there someday. Somewhere along you get inspired and chug on a path that gives you happiness. Then, along the journey, you meet like-minded folks who like you are pursuing their goals drawing inspiration from similar successful people. Experiences are shared and tribulations poured out. You connect at one level but compete at a different level. Conscious or sub-conscious comparisons are made and you set out to level or exceed scores. You determine yardsticks for your success. Every step you forge ahead becomes a greater reason to compete and race faster. And then, the beauty of it all is lost. Simply because the passion is replaced by a rage. The happiness once derived by simply doing a stuff is replaced by a sense of restlessness and dissatisfaction not because you are doing well but you are not doing well enough when pitted against your so-called peers.

Why is it so difficult to just be yourself? why cannot there be peace in knowing and accepting that you may be good but there will be several others who are better than you? Is this some deep-rooted insecurity that makes you want to feel included, to make your own place and still be a part of the world?

If I went under a Xerox copier

2012-02-04T11:19:00.001+05:30

Ok, that's figuratively speaking. Don't panic, yet. This is a fun tag going around the blogosphere and I read it on Smitha and GND's blog on the lines of the recent Kotak Mahindra Ad. If there was another you, what would you do?

[For the sake of the post, *Dme: duplicate me and *Ome: original me]

I can only think of how difficult life would be for people around me! On the other hand, if I had a *Dme, we would technically be identical twins, only, (if I get this concept correctly) it would be just me again with the same heart and soul. [And, of course, she should not have a mind of her own. She'd do exactly as I want her to, else I'll be one of the poor souls at the receiving end.]

1. I'd let the world believe that she is just another person who happens to look like me. That way, I would act bitchy about the Ome behind the Ome to know the real friends and real foes (whatever that means) of the Ome.

2. The *Ome can blog, browse the net, read books and laze around to her heart's content without feeling guilty 'cause the Dme will be doing the other important tasks of cooking, cleaning, playing with R.

3. The Ome can have cozy dine-outs and movie-watching dates (with the hubby, of course) while the Dme takes care of R and since Dme is basically the same as Ome, Ome need not feel guilty (or so Ome thinks). *muhahaha*

4. I hate buying veggies, separating and putting them into bags and refrigerating them. Dme can handle them and also the part about deciding what to cook (err..umm..also the cooking part maybe, I can take over sometimes too)!

5. I am torn between wanting to work and being a SAHM. If there is a Dme, the problem is completely solved. We can keep swapping roles as and when we tire of the self-designated roles.

6. There are somethings I would love to have but loath the hard-work associated with it, for example, gardening. I wish to be surrounded by well-maintained and beautiful plants but I cannot bring myself to do the research, digging, potting, pruning, and all the rest. So, here comes Dme the saviour!

7. I have a liking for many things but hesitate to try them out for want of time or confidence. With a Dme, the Ome can experiment with the salsa class and the Dme can attend baking classes. Just an example.

8. So, what is Ome going to do then, apart from lazing around and having "me times"? Give the Dme a break at times and let her re-charge the batteries. Com'on I have a kind heart. Ok?

So, what would be on your wish list if you had another you for company???

Word power!

2012-02-02T13:34:00.000+05:30

A thought and a word,
go hand in hand

to be woven in a song
or cut like a sword

Words can bridge two hearts
or cause people to fall apart

Such is the power

of a 'word' spoken

It can leave you broken
or set on a trail less taken

Hence, is my urge
to tread with caution

For words, however wise
in your eyes,

can thwart a growing dream,
however slim

And, there is no denying
that given a chance
even a pawn can become a king!

The Rendezvous

2012-01-31T14:14:00.001+05:30

The table is set perfectly, for 'tea for two'. (and the piece of cake is ready too). I am really looking forward to this. There is still a good half an hour left for my guest to arrive as per the text I just got.

I slip back in time to reminisce. It's been 5 years since we got married. I never thought things would reach this stage. It's time to set things right. Enough of being the silent one all the while. This time I have taken things in my hand. Things shall change. I have taken the first step. Today.

Suddenly the door bell rings. I panic. Who can it be? Nobody knows of the little rendezvous I've planned. The bell rings again. I pull myself up and open the door.

He is waiting outside with a huge bouquet and a bottle of champagne.

Me: "But..but..you said.."

He: "Happy Anniversary, my love."

I enter the house with him with mixed emotions. I was not expecting him......

.........................................

...............................not until later.

He sees the arrangement. Now it is his turn to be surprised.

Me: "I wanted to surprise you this time, but you outdid me. Happy Anniversary, dear."

Linking this post (my first attempt at fiction) to Preeti's Tuesday prompt here

It's a century!

2012-01-30T11:36:00.000+05:30

I have hit a century! Yes, this is my 100th post. Like the batsman who is eager to get to this figure as soon as he begins his nineties, so was I while arriving at this magic number. But like the batsman, I too was reeling under the " 90s syndrome" and every post was taking its own sweet time.

So, what's the deal now that I HAVE arrived here? Nothing folks, just a happy smile on my face and a wish that my passion carries a little further, my writing gets more inspired, my interest continues unabated and of course, that I win more readers. A hope to reach out to more and encourage my silent readers to share their thoughts with me.

As I pondered over what my topic for the milestone post should be, I found myself wanting to go back to some my previous posts and capture the journey so far. I thought, why not share this journey with all of you? For those of you who have been with me from the beginning, I ask you to accompany me in my journey to revisit the past and for those of you who joined me much later, I invite you to join me and add more colour to my space.

Thought-provoking ones

The choice to be: A post that is close to my heart and written in the initial days of starting this blog.

The Art Of Living: Some reflection on our lives based on some observations of the life of a toddler

Housework for man: this post got picked up by Blogadda

Some advice for young girls: my two-cents on some to-do things before and after marriage

Pay cut: A good maid is hard to come by. Are we then ready to go a extra mile to keep a good one?

I am tempted to post more, but I'll leave it you to decide whether you want to dig more :-)

Just for laughs

Wife-y and motherly blues: This was written was R was quite young. The scenario is still fresh in my mind and makes me smile (now).

Cooking it up: A post of my cooking abilities or the lack of it.

Lighted out!: Where I messed up big time and cut a sorry figure

Then..and..now: If you believe in the law of karma, this is for you.

As you like it: I'm sure most mothers of toddlers would relate to this.

Poetry: err..umm..am not sure if what is here can be termed as poetry but I still like to showcase it (incorrigible, I know)

Conflict

Thoughts from the heart

Because

(You can click on the tab on the main page too, if you think you can handle more of this.:-))

Before, I start linking my entire blog here, I better take your leave :-) Have a great week ahead..

Precious moments

2012-01-27T13:30:00.000+05:30

I am trying to teach R to sing:

Me: Sa Ri Ga Ma
R: Sa Ri Ga Umaaa Umaaaa!!! (who cares if it was out of tune)

*************************

R gets hurt during one of his antics (nothing unusual)
R comes to me, "anga pattudtu..." (I got hurt )
I am busy in the kitchen and say " vendaam kanna..siriya peidum" (It's Ok baby, you'll be fine)
R: kisshi kudkaname ( you need to kiss) (reminding me what will actually do the trick)
I comply, very readily
R (immediately) "Cheiyya peidtu" ( All's fine)

**************************

And this is called boomerang

I am calling out to R to do something
R says maatain (No) in his usual fashion
I hold on and do not say a word
R continues nonchalantly: "seri... po....enno pannu" (ok, go..do what you like!)
I am stumped for words

Travails of "growing up"

2012-01-22T12:41:00.000+05:30

Sahana's post about a 6 year old attaining puberty shocked me and I was intrigued enough to google the net for more information and this is what I found. Do have a look at her post.

Wikipedia describes the above syndrome as:

As a medical term, precocious puberty describes puberty occurring at an unusually early age. In most of these children, the process is normal in every respect except the unusually early age, and simply represents a variation of normal development. In a minority of children, the early development is triggered by a disease such as a tumor or injury of the brain. Even in instances where there is no disease, unusually early puberty can have adverse effects on social behavior and psychological development, can reduce adult height potential, and may shift some lifelong health risks. Central precocious puberty can be treated by suppressing the pituitary hormones that induce sex steroid production.

When I spoke to Sahana about this article and requested her to share this information with the child's parents, she said she would be happy to do so but hoped that the mother would take it in the right spirit and not say things like, once the periods start they should not be stopped. I was aghast at this possibility and I would not have imagined myself doing that had I been in the mother's position. But of course, the point of my post is not just to draw attention to the existence of such a syndrome which is not to be confused with early puberty and leave it untreated.

It brings me to ponder about how people approach "attaining age" or puberty with an unscientific attitude. When I was growing up, there were many households that practiced the "staying aloof" during periods. Separate beds, separate plates, not allowed to enter the kitchen or touch the vessels in which the food is cooked, someone would have to serve the girl, the clothes worn would have to be washed by the girl herself, in short, ostracized for the entire 4-5 days in a month. I don't know if such practices are still being followed. (I sure hope these have been abandoned). Imagine a girl attaining puberty at the age of 8 or 9, which is becoming a norm these days, being made to undergo all this. How traumatic it can be for such a child? Such customs make a big deal out this natural phenomenon and worse still treat it as though it is a curse to befall on womankind. I remember my sister and I having to "sit aside" during those times and although we attained menarche at 13 or 14 years, it was still very difficult to accept those restrictions. It was mostly imposed by our grandmother who looked after us. Mother used to work and hence could not really rebel on behalf of us. Also, my mother being a product of those very restrictions, maybe even harsher during her times, was conditioned to accept such things without protest. Of course, it is a different story that after a few years, I turned into a complete rebel and refused to comply with most of the restrictions. The girl undergoing physical and emotional changes has enough on her plate and does not need social stigma and taboos enforced on her.Especially, when these beliefs do not hold much water in our modern age.

Puberty can be confusing, traumatic, embarrassing and depressing at varying degrees depending upon the conditioning at home. Peer-pressure can be at it's peak and pre-teens who are amongst the first ones or the last ones to attain puberty are the most affected. Onset of puberty not only announces the arrival of hormonal upheaval, it also marks the distinct cross-over to man/woman-hood. The twin-challenge of dealing with changes in the physical appearance as well as the emotional roller-coaster ride may cause a lot of distress. Precocious puberty or not, the most important factor here would be the support of the parents at home and the teachers at school. I do not remember being schooled for this eventual physical change. It happened as it did for many others and life went on. I never asked much questions when I was younger and accepted things at face-value. However, children are a lot more curious now and they do not shy away from questioning things. And, thank God for that. Of course, I am dreading the questions regarding the changing body, raging emotions, confusing relationships with peers of the same and opposite sex, when the time comes. But I also understand that it would be best that these need to be addressed with utmost honesty and clarity as it would be appropriate for the age. Because, if not us (the parents or the teachers), the next resort would be the internet or friends which can prove dangerous. The plethora of information on the net can be a boon if there is a support system always available at home and school but can turn dangerous if left unmanned in the hands of an impressionable young.

An open environment at home is so much needed today so that our children can approach us first for any kind of discussion. I do hope in earnest, 'am able to provide it for R.

Blogger gets back at me

2012-01-19T09:00:00.000+05:30

Now that's called perfect timing. Most blog users who moved to Wordpress from Blogger would agree that the one of the foremost reasons for the shift is the lack of threaded comments in Blogger. I was about to move too but somehow never got around to doing it. As such I don't get too many comments that I cannot manage, so it really didn't bother me as long as people who wanted to comment could do so.

Then, sometime around last week, I came across a blog on blogspot that had a reply button embedded to each comment. The blog owner was kind enough to let me know her secret and sent me the link - (http://www.spiceupyourblog.com/2010/10/add-reply-button-to-blogger-comments.html)- that would enable me to do the same. I hurriedly and excitedly followed all the instructions, did some tweaking here and there, and lo! behold, I had the reply button affixed to each of the comments I received- a la-Wordpress style. Only, of course, the did not translate to being threaded comments- just a html code added that automatically added an "@ commenter's name" with the link to their blog, if any, opened up as a separate comment box. Nevertheless, I was happy with the new template I had discovered since I fully comprehend the "beggars cannot be choosers" line.

And, exactly two days later, I discover this:

http://buzz.blogger.com/2012/01/engage-with-your-readers-through.html

If you are too lazy to click on the link, read below:

[Engage with your readers through threaded commenting

You may have noticed that we’ve rolled out a number of improvements to Blogger recently. The folks over at Technorati referred to it as a “rampage”. Call it what you like, we’re definitely having fun giving Blogger the makeover it’s long deserved, and we appreciate all the positive feedback we received at the recent BlogWorld expo.

If you follow us on our Buzz blog, you’re aware that we publish surveys from time to time. They are one of several methods that we use to collect your feedback about what we can do to make your blogging experience better. A top request on the wishlist is improving Blogger’s commenting system, so we’re happy to announce that we’ve done just that.

Blogger now supports threaded commenting, which means that it is now much easier to differentiate between whether someone is making a general comment on the thread, or responding to another comment on the thread.

What do you have to do to enable this on your blog? Nothing! If you have Blogger’s commenting feature enabled, “Blog Feed” set to “Full”, and are using “Embedded” comments, then you’re ready to start a discussion with your readers. To check, or change your feed settings, select: “Settings > Other >, and then “Full” from the “Allow Blog Feed” dropdown:

To check your current form setting, select: “Settings > Posts and Comments, and select “Embedded” from the “Comment Location” dropdown:

Visit the Blogger Help Center for additional information.]

Now, for all that effort I took!
But, good to know that Blogger is improving and improvising. So, this is to my blogger-loyal friends out there, who are not aware of this new feature; you just have to follow the above steps.

P.S. My nit-picking habit doesn't leave me and I realized that when the follow-up comments (you still need to click on the subcribe by email link on the bottom right corner of the comment box) come into your Inbox, you still are clueless as to which comment is a response to which commenter (though the blog shows it) unlike Wordpress.

My first award and a tag

2012-01-18T14:15:00.000+05:30

Yay!!! Aparna conferred upon me the Versatile blogger award. It's my first award and am so glad!
Thanks a ton Aparna!!!

ETA: While, I had nominated Nancy for the award, I later found that she had simultaneously done the same. Thanks again Nancy!

The rules of the award are as follows:

1. Thank the person who nominated you for the award- done.

2. Nominate 15 other bloggers and inform them of the same

3. Share 7 Random facts about yourself

And,

4. Add the Versatile Blogger Award picture to your Blog Post- done.

I think, I am the last person on this Blogosphere to be nominated for this award. At least, most of the bloggers I know are already proud owners or are already nominated. Hence, I nominate:

Radhika- she does not post very frequently but her posts have variety and some good poetry too!

Purnima- She has become a proud mother of a beautiful daughter, so I doubt she'll take this tag up in the near future. Yet, she qualifies for the award.

Sahana- She is truly a master with words. Her posts will most definitely leave you with a smile. She's already a recipient of this award, but I guess that's ok.

Bhargavi- Again, her posts are full of humour

Nancy- a very popular blogger and also a long-time recipient of this award. I love the way she writes. Nancy, this is a punishment for not taking up my earlier tag, if you remember :-P. Anyway, since, you must have done this tag long ago, I request you to take it up once again..:-)

I can only come up with these many names!

Now, comes the tougher part, the random facts. Well, lets see:

1. I loath lizards. I am also completely terrified of them. I am brave around roaches and can send them to heavenly abode in a jiffy but when it comes to this sluggish creature, I can turn numb with fear and disgust. We have been fed with some superstition that one should not kill a lizard. Don't ask me why, 'cause I have never got an answer. I am not sure I believe in the superstition but I cannot still muster courage to kill one. So, that leaves me with only two other option: To either co-habit until the monster decides to quit the house or somehow drive it out of the house. Both the options leave me in a state of utter misery till the exit of the cause, so I try to block the chances of its entry in the first place. I have observed a couple of them lurking near the main door, hence each time I open the door, I make a complete and thorough scrutiny of the frame and door to satisfy myself that the dreaded creature is not lurking camouflaged waiting to furtively enter the house. Of course, the dear husband thinks this is just one other side-effects of my mental imbalance.

2. I have a sweet tooth. I crave for a sweet especially after lunch. ANY sweet will do.

3. My face mirrors my thoughts. I cannot behave as though all is hunky-dory if things are not so. Also, I cannot scheme and conspire behind someone's back while being sweet to them on their face. If I do not like somebody, I avoid that person but will never say something I do not mean.

4. I can cry easily. My eyes moisten up even at the stupidest sentimental dialogue of a dumb movie or (worse) a T.V. soap. I try to be discreet, though.

5. I once went to a professional studio and got my voice recorded for a folk song in a advert. It was along with one more female voice and a male lead singer. I don't even know if the ad and the song got released. That's my closest brush to stardom so far.

6. I once slapped a boy when I was around six or seven because he insisted that I was six years old dand not seven which I refused to acknowledge. Oh! the age of innocence (am not referring to the slapping bit, though). Let anyone tell me now that I am not in the age I am and I'll be walking on the clouds!

7. I have acquired an annoying habit of cleaning the surface of the gas stove even while cooking to ensure that nothing falls on its surface or if something spills, it is cleaned pronto. Yes, I am quite crazy.

Phew! I was struggling to come up with more than five but really enjoyed doing it. Thanks again Aparna!

p.s. Nominees, if you see my post before I can come and let you know, please come and collect it. I'll be doing the informing part shortly..:-)

A novel after a loong time.

2012-01-18T10:51:00.000+05:30

Finished reading a complete book after months. The last I read was Preeti Shenoy's "Life is what you make it". I completed that one in a record time of two days. This time it is Jane Fallon's The Ugly Sister. Best catalogued under chick-lit, fiction, I picked this up on a fancy to read up on my Kindle. The Kindle was languishing without getting its rightful due and I thought it is high time I shrugged off the tardiness and randomly downloaded a couple of novels.

I had never read any of the previous books by this author and to be honest, had not heard of the author's name too. Though, of course, I am not a voracious reader and me not having heard of some author cannot and does not mean anything. All am trying to say is I had no preconceived ideas or expectations from the novel.

The story is about two sisters, Cleo and Abi, who have inherited entirely different set of genes albeit from the same set of parents which makes them stand apart not only in the physical quotient but also emotional. Cleo, is the elder of the two and is the superior one in the looks department, while Abi is the plain Jane but one who is endowed with brains. Life for the two sisters take a major diversion after Cleo, at the age of sixteen, is suddenly discovered by a modelling agent and is frisked away into the glamourous and mysterious world of fashion and beauty. Cleo reaches the pinnacle of success and has all that a person would dream of- a dream career, a lovely house in uptown London, two kids and a loving husband. Abi, on the other hand, has struggled her way through life and is just about making ends meet, dealing with being a single mother to a teenage daughter, Phoebe. Although, the two sisters share a strained relationship, Abi is hopeful of setting things straight if and when the opportunity so presents.The opportunity comes in the form of an unexpected invitation from Cleo asking Abi to spend the summer with her family in London. The story then unfolds about how things go from there on. Will the relation between the sisters improve or will there be more misunderstandings?

The pace of the plot is swift and keeps you engaged up to three-quarters of the book. The characters are well-developed and you can relate to them. But, after all the detailed planning of the characters, the end seems very rushed and abrupt. Somewhere, I felt the plot ran out of steam and the story was suddenly brought to its end. Just as you would have liked a more detailed and logical conclusion, the book ends leaving you feeling cheated.

So, although it makes a good read overall, the end leaves you a little frustrated.

R speaks

2012-01-12T09:18:00.001+05:30

Long time since I updated on R front. He is talking nineteen to the dozen now- stringing in words he knows to combine sentences that make sense and some nonsense thrown in liberally.

(P.S: Apologies to the non-speaking tamil readers. It is difficult to translate every phrase, so kept it as it is. But, hoping the gist won't be lost.)

He hates me sitting in front of the computer and immediately chants, "amma, keeya engu, book paikalaam" or "amma, va, inge okachi, bed maela okachi" or "amma, come, cheekam va..okachee"
"inda book paikalaam, anda book paikalaam". The chant gets louder and furious in tone if I don't comply soon enough.

He'd arrange all his cars in a row or semi-circle and call out to me to show, "amma paaru, wow chollu"!!

All of a sudden he'd barge into the kitchen and ask,"nee enna panrai??". No matter how I answer, he'll repeat for a few times till the time he tires out or I stop answering (mostly the latter ) :-)

"daesh epi ikku? nannaka? kannani paakalama?" - when he is dressed to go out.

He has preferences for the cell too. He would sometimes want only his appa's phone or sometimes only
my phone: "anda phone ta, appa/amma phone ta". And talks away to glory over the phone while walking about from one end of the room to the other:
"umm..umm..ok, papom, epi irukai? naa fine..ok, bye, chee u eving, cheeu tomorrow (see you in the evening), aapich paetuvaraen" (so on..in no specific order)

And, of course, his favourite word now is "maatain" ( which means "NO"). He may or may not understand the question but the answer is "maatain". Sometimes, even before the question is asked. I say "R..." and he says, "maatain" much like the anticipatory bill.

He knows his cousin S goes to Tree House. So whenever her name is mentioned by way of some conversation, he goes like this:
"S...twee housh,...four housh, fie housh, chix housh..and so on..till ten housh"

But this takes the cake. The other day, I told R, "I love you" and he replied,

"I davu too"!! I was so happy to hear that. Then he continued,

"I davu twee..I davu four...."

Hair today, gone tomorrow..

2012-01-10T13:06:00.000+05:30

Well, our crowing glory could have tales as well as tails. It depends on which part you focus on. This story is about how the tale of my hair became just a tail of hair. Once a upon a time, I had a mane that most girls would kill to get. Nature had bestowed it on me- shiny black, silky, thick and straight. Yeah, I could've been one of the models for a shampoo ad. Only, no one approached me for it :-( My hair used to be the subject of envy amongst a wide-known circle.

"Oh! what do you do to maintain it?", "please share your secrets"..and so on. My heart would swell on hearing these oft-repeated questions targeted at me by known and sometimes even unknown people. (There have been instances where people would actual touch and feel the hair to believe it is real). I attained almost celebrity status because of my hair during college. I always felt my hair made up for all the other superficial imperfections I might have had. So, I would secretly enjoy all the attention while maintaining a very modest demeanour.

Really, I never did much to maintain them apart from the routine washing and shampooing. Not even conditioning. But yes, I was rather finicky about them in a different way. I never combed my hair when wet. Always untangled them with my fingers first. And boy! I have given my mother much grief when she used to tie them into plaits when I was much younger. The plaits HAD to start at the same level on both sides of the partition. The amount of hair left at the end of the twin-plaits also HAD to match. Not too loose and not too tight. Gosh! am surprised how anyone could put up with such idiosyncrasies. Not that she had much choice in this matter. However, she was only too relieved and glad when I took it upon myself to do my hair at the age of 10. Yes, when I was in class 5 or 6.

And, how I can I forget the hair-cutting ordeals? Ordeals for others, that is. I would throw tantrums after the hair was cut and demanded that the hair be stuck back, pronto!!! Even much later, during late teens, I would reluctantly enter a parlour to get my hair styled, after much cajoling by friends to sport a different and contemporary look. But, I would always come home teary-eyed, for the lady would have chopped off more than I'd have liked and would miserable about it for days. I know, quite silly.

But, all good things come to an end, someday, don't they? Things changed a whole lot after I switched cities post-marriage. The hard-water made my hair lose much of its volume and I couldn't do much, other than helplessly watching my best feature go down the drain literally. Later, work and home responsibilities left me with no idle-time to pamper or even devote decent care for my once prized possession. Post-pregnancy hormones only added more fuel to the already raging fire and now I am left with just one-third of the original strength. The tale that was has been reduced to a tail that remains. Of course, am grateful of that, to say the least. Something is better than nothing. There has been some good out of it too. My attitude has undergone a metamorphosis of sorts. I'm no longer a slave to people's appreciative glances (not that there are anymore). I am open to having a shorter, manageable and fashionable look and have become bolder in my hair-cutting experiments. So, that's not a bad bargain, after all. What say??

Courtesy: google.com

Loved this quote...

The dirty picture

2012-01-09T11:55:00.000+05:30

Haha, caught you! If you came here looking for the review of the movie or some equally masala-stuff. This is just about a mundane ritual that hits you like a virus and doesn't leave you until it runs it's course. Ok, don't rack your brains too much. I am talking about spring cleaning here. I am on the spring cleaning mode- ever since I came back from B'bay. Re-arranged the clothes cupboard, cleaned the kitchen cabinets, the fridge, cleared out the clutter; never felt so accomplished.
And, who says spring cleaning is done in spring? It comes in cycles all year through! Bah!!

It is amazing that the clothes cupboards get messy so much faster than you'd like them to. And that too when you're not re-filling them as frequently as you'd like to!!!. Also, it is interesting to note, how you find so much clutter each time you re-organize a closet even when you pride yourself on being the "non-hoarding" kinds. If not entirely unwanted, then there are lots of unused stuff at least. Of which, you are not ready to let go off, yet. I am generally ruthless when it comes to cutting extra flab. But sometimes, there are things I cannot let go off too. Again, only till the next time, I get mad at myself for having to dig through piles of stuff to get what I am looking for. Then, there is no mercy shown. My maid is the most pleased person at the end of such sessions. She gets to keep the excess and am glad that someone gets to use the weeded-out stuff.

I just hate it when unkempt corners in the house surface one after the other with the sole intention of keeping you occupied somehow. Just as you'd like to sit back with a piping hot tea and book in hand, applauding yourself for the day's neat work, the layer of dust on the T.V stand catches your eye. You realize (not with any pleasure) that there are so many facets to a house, especially when you bring it upon yourself (and upon the unsuspecting maid too, of course) to get every part shining and bright. If the cob-webs are cleared, there are the windows and doors to be cleaned. Door-mats, bedspreads, curtains have an annoying way of gathering dust and filth in record time. Of course, hubby feels I am out of my thinking capacity when I announce that the dust-bins have gathered dirt and they are the next-in-line for the make-over. My friend's hubby once remarked that dust-bins are meant to get dirty, so what's the big deal about cleaning them???!!! Husbands all over think alike, I guess.

And of course, a house with kid(s) is best described below:

Courtesy: google.com

Hope you guys had a great weekend!

2011 in hindsight

2012-01-04T17:05:00.000+05:30

Now, this is called being a tube-light. When everyone on the blogosphere was bidding adieu to 2011 in their own unique and interesting ways, I was having a serious writing block and couldn't think of how I should sum up the year, so I decided to skip the whole thing. Cha! who wants to be a part of the "I also ran" kinds. Sour grapes, I know. But, 4 days into the fresh year, and bling bling, the past flashes before my eyes. So, I thought I shall do a short re-cap before amnesia strikes again.

I started this blog in December last year. I started off jittery and sporadically. Somewhere around February, I began reading more and more blogs and before I knew it, I developed blogodiction (an addiction to blogging, if you're wondering). I discovered so many wonderful writers who also happen to don so many roles in their lives effortlessly- wife, mother, colleague, boss, daughter, and, so on. It is amazing to be a part of like-minded people's lives and share your worries, anxiety, joys and sorrows. No one's judging and you can be yourself without the fear of being judged. Writing started proving to be a catharsis of sorts for me. Glad to have discovered this medium of expression.

We finalized on our first, new, own house around March. It is a huge decision for us and after a lot of considerations, we settled on this one. It fitted our budget (well, almost...) and expectations (again, mostly..). We didn't want to move out of our current area and didn't want to over-stretch our budget. So, this seemed apt in the current scenario. The builder is not one of the famous ones (those are building houses for dacoits and NRIs, I think) but word of mouth says he is decent. We should get the possession by mid 2013, at the latest. Hoping that this will turn out close to what we have in our minds.

Had a great time bonding with friends. Lunches and dinners thrown at one another's place every other weekend, celebrating birthdays, anniversaries, kids' birthdays, festivals, we surely did have a lot of fun. There is a new addition to one's family now, work may take another off to a far-away location, so this year, may not be such fun after all, so all the more, want to cherish these memories.

And of course, the fag end of the year brought the whole family together for the much-awaited cousin's wedding at Bhubaneshwar. Hubby's sudden developments at work that needed him to go to the US in that very month and all of the story at Mumbai and Bhubaneshwar is all there for you to read, if you wish, in the December 2011 folder..:-)

R kept me occupied and entertained throughout the year. He is growing every month by leaps and bounds and again, am glad, I have been able to capture most of the precious moments in this blog. I'll definitely love re-reading them in the coming years and refresh my memory.

The year of 2012

2012-01-03T22:42:00.000+05:30

Another year gone by and couple-a-days gone by (already?) in the new year 2012. During school days, the realization of the new year would only strike in when we had to write the date in our books. Every beginning of a new year brings in a lot of hope and excitement, much like that of entering the closed door to a much-awaited opportunity. Resolutions conjure up an amusing memory of school years, where my dismal report card, each year for quite sometime, would have me hastily and solemnly pledge that "I'll study better next year and not just on the eve of the exam". However, history would repeat itself without regard for the previous year's promises.
Hence, I stay away from making resolutions :-).

This year, however, I have a few to-do things which I hope to cross out successfully:

Enrolling R in a playschool - I have been wanting to do this for the past 6 months and I cannot give you one convincing reason as to why it is not yet done. Yes, we were waiting for yours truly to learn driving but a whole lot of time has passed by even after that hurdle was cleared. Of course, I should blame it all on the travelling that took us out of town for the last couple of months. Going by the speed in which this bullet point is being taken care of, I won't be surprised if we end up enrolling R directly for nursery.

I need to get back to doing something productive- This is all of the SAHM burden I can take. I am getting fidgety and anxious to do something, even if it does not translate into earning high moolahs. Mostly, because of the inertia, nothing is being done. My already low threshold is vanishing into thin air and many a times R has to bear the brunt of it. It is totally despicable of me, I know. So, I need to take stock.

Potty-train R: gosh! this is giving me more grief than I'd ever imagined. I know, it will happen when the kids are ready. But then are we as parents expected to just bide the time till the magic moment or keep trying till we arrive at the magic moment? The problem or the key with R, I've noticed is that, he can go only the Indian way. We do not have Indian style toilets. At my parents, we did, but R was way too stubborn most times and would insist on going in a make-shift toilet that he'd construct with chairs, etc!!! He still cannot remain dry for even an hour, so it makes it hard to keep him off diapers. So, maybe I should back off and wait until we are both a little more ready??
I have read all about the signs and the techniques involved in the process but I tell ya, it's just too much trouble and work! How the hell did our previous generation raise so many kids one after the other! :-0

And, here's more of a wish-list than a to-do:

Devote some "me" time for myself- I want to get back to doing yoga regularly. I want to read more. I want to maybe volunteer in my apartment to organize cultural events and also take part in them. I would like to re-start learning music. The key to all these is time, time and more time. Of course, above all the will to somehow get to do them all. But, yes, most of these would require R to be a little more independent or have alternate arrangements made to have him taken care of. This bullet point will perhaps be a on-going and evolving process, and, not on an immediate strike-off list.

Travel more around India and abroad, if possible- I know, I've cribbed so much about travelling with R and here I want to travel more. But, really, I want to plan properly and have a proper holiday that is also sensitive to toddler needs. And, since I won't be alone in handling R, I hope and expect the situation to be better.

Aah..I thought, I'll sound all important and sorted out by making a biiiig list. And here 'am, unable to even come to a five-point list. See, that's how ambitious I am. Ah well! these are mammoth tasks in themselves and I'll be happy if I can strike off at least two. Will add more to the list, as and when fancy strikes me.

Hoping that this year will turn out better for us as a country and for each of us personally too!

And thus...

2011-12-28T19:57:00.001+05:30

I am back! I mean to Bangalore. I was away for so long that I was beginning to forget that I used to run a house all by myself. I was getting so used to having hot food in my hands that I remarked to my sister, only half in jest, that I wouldn't be surprised to discover that I have forgotten how to cook when I get back.

After spending close to two months in quick succession at the parents, I was having a tempo load of luggage to be taken back. Actually, not that many in number. My modest belongings comprised one particularly huge and hheeavvvvvvy suitcase and a few more smaller and comparatively lighter bags. My mom was especially worried of how I'll manage to load and off load them with a fidgety and restless toddler by the side. After a last minute panic-struck idea of taking an extra suitcase to even out the over-stuffed large suitcase was considered and voted out in cycles in a 5 member household, we said solemn goodbyes to each other and I left with R and the luggage in the cab (not tempo!). Dad came to see us off till the airport. We left well in advance considering the evening hr traffic, however we reached in record time of one hour. I don't remember any time when I covered this distance so fast in Mumbai that too in the evening. Seems like most of the roadies were out of town celebrating Christmas.

I checked in the baggage without trouble and for the first time since I booked tickets I didn't crib about the airlines charging a full ticket for a 2 year old. I just stopped short of the max. baggage limit for 2 passengers. I would have anyway paid a ticket's worth fine for excess baggage if not for a ticket for R and that would have killed me more. This way I was not guilty. The hour and a half long wait at the airport and the flight was uneventful (thankfully). I had imagined myself running after R and generally having a tough time but it was not so bad. Maybe because I was mentally prepared or maybe R was infact quite well-behaved during the journey. Really, I should give it to the brat. He was quite within his limits and not in his "going-berserk" state.

I placed two calls, one to the hubby and other to the cab guy to confirm their presence at the airport. The cabbie was already at the airport for his pick-up routine and was to be there until the time I arrived. It meant that I just had to call and he would be there when I landed at the airport. Hubby was also on his way. Which meant I just had to relax for the rest of the journey. I collected my baggage and wheeled towards the exit and turned to where hubby was waiting. And surprise of surprise, hubby welcomed me with a bouquet of flowers- for the first time so far in our married life. I have always maintained that while 'am quite filmy that way, hubby cannot care less for such gestures. Well...it's for nothing that they say, distance can make heart grow fonder. R was in a sleepy mode but as soon as he saw his dad, his eyes all lit up. His expression was like, "oh! where did this familiar guy come from all of a sudden after so many days", though I was constantly giving him updates about what is happening and what to expect. The comic part comes now. The cabbie came running up to us from the other direction and as he caught up, he said," arrey aap sahab ke taraf ja rahe the? main aapko kabse haath dikha raha tha!". In my mind I compared the situation to a scene where the heroine sidelines the villain and runs towards the hero in a dramatic sequence and found it so hilarious.

Seems like the Santa arrived belatedly to deliver the goodies bag to our house. The Santa, being hubby here of course. R got a bunch of clothes, books and toys. I got a pretty watch and a delicate pair of silver earrings and chain studded with artificial diamonds. And yes, lots of chocolates and stuff for others too...
A good note to end this year. Wishing you all a fulfilling and healthy 2012!

p.s. : I successfully completed a year of blogging a few days ago and happy to note that am still here!

Kids!

2011-12-23T09:56:00.001+05:30

Anyone out there who thinks it is great to have two kids close in age to one another, please do not read any further because I am just about to pour out all the angst two such kids are giving me us at the moment.

S and R are very similar in nature. Meaning, both have a similar disposition with respect to the amount of mischief they can create. They are a handful even on their own (though they can be handled individually), so just imagine the chaos and mental trauma for the rest of the adult folk when these two get together. They are a deadly combination. Each teaches the other newer tricks and the two build up on them. While S talks non-stop all day, R cannot stop moving. He forever wants to be on the go or be in a vehicle that is on the go. Being stationary is not a part of his dictionary. And when they squabble with each other, you might want to tear your head and dash off the house. Mostly they get along pretty well. Which makes life tougher for us, coz all the trouble doubles up. By time you are done reprimanding one, the other is onto a different sort of mischief. All the talk about they looking cute when they play, is done by people who have nothing to do with both of them. Yes, they do look very sweet together and their innocent banter lights up the house. But that is just for a few moments! And, innocent they look but only when asleep.

Figure this in your mind:
Both the kids have this ride-on-car toy on which they race about the whole house without any care for anyone's foot or any other article that may come in the way. When they are finished with it, one of them finds the small hole in the wall (yes even the newly painted wall managed to get a hole) and digs it further off the paint and cement. Once you are done pulling the errant kid off the site, you find that the other has sneaked into the bathroom (that was accidentally left open) and opened the water tap to wet himself completely. After we have (sufficiently?) scolded them, there is silence for like 5 minutes. Panicking, we look for them to find them having opened the dettol handwash (which is normally placed far away on the washbasin counter) and poured the contents on to the floor! HELP!!!! (this is just a preview of what actually goes on)

The two brats exchange meaningful smiles and decide to throw the entire set of building blocks from one end of the room to the other. Though R still talks in a mazhalai that only I can understand, S and he seem to have perfect conversations. The two are in perfect sync when together and appear lost when either of the two is not available for mischief. R, who is generally a mouse in front of other kids who tend to bully him, is totally a gunda with S, snatching toys (his and hers) from her hands, pulling her hair and hitting her when provoked or even sometimes without any provocation. Not sure if his personality is changing or he is this way only with S (knowing deep down that he can take liberties with her?). I will know only when I get back to B'lore and see him in the company of his other friends.

p.s.: yes, there are some real aww moments too. When, for e.g., R gets hurt, S is among the first to mother him and say its OK. Although R is yet to learn the finer aspects of showing love, he too reaches out at random to S to give her a hug and kiss. He waits forlornly for her to return from school and as soon as he sees her, his face brightens up.

R at the wedding

2011-12-22T13:46:00.000+05:30

R is at a stage where he does what he wants to do irrespective of how much I try to make him do otherwise-cajoling, threatening, whacking or reasoning, nothing seems to work! It is especially exasperating when he behaves so in front of a crowd that is judging both me and him. This is precisely what happened at the wedding.

A day preceding the wedding was a small Tambram function spanning half a day. This was conducted in a different hall from that of the main wedding. Unfortunately this particular venue was particularly non-kids friendly. Meaning, the place was small, so R couldn't expend his energy suitably within the confines. Hence he decided to spend the time outside the hall. Running all around the small courtyard, collecting the pebbles and throwing it all over the place. The place was bang on the main road, so there was this constant fear of his running on to the road, which he promptly did a few times only to be caught by a tired and frustrated mother in tow. I hardly got to be a part of the function as I was only running after him. I was seriously contemplating going back to the hotel room, coz it made no sense to me doing acrobatics instead of participating in the function.

Some brave souls took pity on my plight and volunteered to baby-sit while I got a glimpse of what was going inside the hall. But a few minutes later, they hastily went back on their word as what seemed relatively easy from afar was indeed a tough job on hand, they soon realized. At the announcement of breakfast, a famished and tired me made a beeline to the counter, dragging a very unwilling R, hoping to grab some grub and even more hopeful of getting R to eat and keep him quiet for sometime thus. Alas! these were just wishful thoughts in my head. R refused to even sit on my lap and almost managed to run away from below the table towards the exit. My poor mother had to pause mid-way through her breakfast and hold on to the brat while I just stuffed some remains onto my mouth and relieved her as soon as I could.

I had had enough already and wedding had not even begun! I was so not looking forward to the next day's ordeal. However the saving grace was the huge open space the wedding hall ( a five-star hotel resort actually) encompassed. So he could run about as much as he wanted without hurting himself or running into danger zones. Yet, an eye had to be kept on him and I couldn't really let him wander off far away from sight. I had to be present too for some wedding rituals (being one of the groom's sister). However much people around me helped to see him be safe, the final onus definitely rested on me. To top it all, I had to hear stray comments like how I must be more careful and protective of R and keep him tied to me. How much can one constrain a toddler who has just begun with the terrible two stage and someone like R who has excess energy to burn all the time, I ask?

Inspite of all this, I did manage to catch most of the wedding and also had some fun along. Since the rituals began very early in the morning, R slept through some part of it. An adventurous wedding and vacation indeed this has proved to be. A good experience overall in the end, however I am not eager of a repeat show. :-)

Beyond comprehension

2011-12-20T09:16:00.000+05:30

Somethings do not fit into the logical mind that struggles to find sense in everything. Some term it God, others may say luck, some others may just shrug off the incident without much thought for it disturbs the hitherto analytical way of life experienced. One such incident happened at the wedding which might make even the skeptics think a little more on the lines of there being a super power above us after all.

S, my niece, wore a pair of gold kundalams (jhumka) for the wedding. We were all busy with the festivities and the kids were busy merry making running all over the place. During breakfast, my aunt came over with a clasp (the thing that goes behind the earring to secure it) and remarked that the priest had found it near the hallway and gave it to her. We immediately checked our earrings and checked S too to make sure we had our earrings in place. Satisfied that the lost clasp wasn't one of ours, we decided to safeguard the clasp till someone came to claim it. A few minutes later, we found that S did not have one of her earrings on her. We began a frantic search for the precious little thingy, put in a word with all the hotel staff, cleaners and the rest of the wedding crowd. We did not leave any stone unturned (pun intended). However we got nothing except dirt. Dejected, we left the hall to go back to our hotel rooms to take the much needed rest before the reception began in the evening.

A little later in the afternoon, I decided to clear the mess in the room and pack the stray items lying outside into my bags. My handbag which carried all the important stuff also seemed way too bulky and in need of some reorganization. As I sat down to dig out the stray wrappers, tickets and other stuff from the depths of my bag, what do I get??? yes, the "lost" earring ( a two-piece set with the ear tops and the dangling). Mind you, I always have the compartments of my bag zipped. How the hell did that earring get into the depths of my bag? If the children played mischief and put it in there, how did the clasp alone stray away somewhere else and again find its way, albeit through the priest, into our own hands?

We did not try to find answers to these questions, rather accepted it as a work of the power above us trying to reinforce our belief in it. Yes, miracles do happen!

And we are back!

2011-12-18T14:25:00.000+05:30

A vacation that lasted less than a week but had action packed ingredients for much more. This trip to Bhubaneshwar will be remembered for a whole lot of things apart from the wedding related stories. Before the details get all muddled up in my brains and I pour it all out in the same incomprehensible manner, let me take a huge breath and narrate the details as they happened.

The 3 and 1/2 hr flight to Bbnswr from Mumbai was via Hyd where we (My sister, niece, R and I. Did I mention, my b-i-l dropped out of the trip at last moment, leaving us sisters to deal with the respective brats all alone?..well..) were joined by our cousin A (whose wedding we were to attend). The adventure began as soon as we alighted at the Biju Patnaik airport at Bhubaneshwar. The airport is so small that you can just walk to the arrival hall after you alight from the plane and then pick your bags from the belt and in the same speed proceed to the exit. As we were driven down to the hotel where we were to be put up for the rest of our stay, we couldn't help notice how smooth the traffic (which seemed quite minimal too) moved on a Friday evening. One of the best parts of living in a small town! During the course of our visit, we realized that any place within the city could be reached in a maximum of 25-30 minutes, even after accounting for the traffic.

Our parents were to join us in a couple of days time at the same hotel where we were to be put up. Little did we realize that in the span of those two days, we would be hotel hopping every morning. The hotel intended for our stay had done a fumigation exactly on the fateful day of our check-in. So, that explained the unpleasant conditions we were subject to after a tiring flight with super-energetic and jumping kids. We immediately decided to move into a different hotel the same night since the place seemed quite unfit to inhabit especially with kids around. We planned to return after a couple of days when our parents would join us and by which time, the odour and effect of the insecticide was expected to clear out. This would have been fine but for unnecessary factors like the bride's side taking up responsibility for the state of affairs and checking us into a five-star hotel by way of making amends, thus complicating the whole situation further. Thankfully, cousin A took the situation in to his hands and ensured that we did not burden ourselves on the bride's family and booked us a different hotel the following afternoon. We thus managed to check in to three different hotel in two days time. The funny side of the matter struck us only when, on the third day while we were getting ready for sight-seeing, niece S asked us innocently if were were going to go to a different hotel now :-).

The next couple of days until the wedding were spent visiting the Udayagiri-Khandagiri caves, Nandankanan Zoo, Puri and Konark. Each place was worth the visit. The city exudes a rich cultural richness which reflects in the historical sites that are abound the city. It is not known as the city of temples for nothing. We witnessed the lunar eclipse on our second day of our stay. Oh boy! I am falling short of superlatives to describe the event and the experience. Why did I never venture out to get at least a glimpse of this wonderful act of nature earlier? I have no answer to that. The eclipse unfolded right above us from the terrace of the hotel, where we camped ourselves to watch it until the very end. A quick glance around us and we saw several people drinking and eating at the open restaurant without so much as casting a fleeting glance above at the sky. OK, I understand if you do not want to get out of the comforts of your home to view the eclipse but how is it possible to remain indifferent and unaware when sitting in the open right under the moon, when even on normal days, one would at least throw a fleeting glance at the sky above?

The Tambram family welcomed the Oriya bride amidst great fan and fare. The wedding itself was a grand affair with a perfect blend of Oriya and Tamil customs. Yummilicious south Indian and north Indian fare only served as the crowing glory of the show. Being already familiar with the Tambram weddings, we looked forward to be a part of the Oriya customs. Most Hindu weddings follow a similar set of sequence and have pretty much the same rituals, although the manner in which they are conducted differ from state to state. A gatti-melam in a Tamil wedding can be loosely compared to the hul-huli in a Oriya wedding, for example. Cousin A is my chitti's (mother's sister) son and is very close to us sisters. We were already in touch with S, his then fiance and now wife, and got along quite well. When we met her in person, it didn't seem as though it was our first meeting. The two make a lovely pair. May God bless them!

R proved a total brat throughout the trip and I am inclined to make a resolution this new year, never to attempt making a trip alone with him! Details to follow later...

A short update

2011-12-06T11:48:00.001+05:30

It's been more than week here now and things are far better, actually good when compared to the last time I was here. R had no adjustment problems this time and I am far more relaxed and enjoying my stay. The niece and R get along like a house on fire- always upto some mischief and conspiring against the other folks at home. While it is fun to watch them and also a relief to see the two kids playing more and squabbling less, it also means that the mayhem and chaos is twice as much as it would have been with a single toddler. At times, the situation gets quite out of control leaving each of us (older folks) silently thanking the "temporary" set-up.

It has been a more fruitful time for me in a way that I got some "me" time in which I accomplished some soul-satisfying knick-knack shopping, ate yummilicious chaat and caught up with some old friends over phone. Oh boy! don't these give you a high each time?

We are now getting ready to pack our bags and head to Bhubaneshwar this weekend to attend the cousin(A)'s wedding. A new city to be explored, some fun-times with cousin A after almost 2 years and of course the actual wedding. Finally, I am looking forward to this trip :-) So,guys, see you on the other side of the break.

Happy Birthday to you..

2011-11-26T08:19:00.000+05:30

...My dear R,

We are back in Mumbai at your paati's place since your appa had to go to the US for work. Am sure he is missing you as much as you and I are on this special day when you complete 2 years of age. No worries, we shall celebrate again once he is back!

It means another year of motherhood for me, my son. umm..so, how do I sum up my experience so far?
I have come a long way from being the tensed new mother of a newborn who was anxious about every little out-of-the-book symptom you exhibited. I am now a more confident and brave mother of a swift and energetic toddler who does throw in little shocks and surprises every now and then. I am by no means a know-all mother but now that you and I are no longer strangers to one another there is a known and comforting factor each time we deal with a difficult situation.

I still remember the first few months after you were born. I only remember feeding you all day with of course the potty and su-su cleaning in-between. You were always hungry! you would feed for not less than a hour and an hour later, you would be howling for milk again! Since you also almost never slept for more than 15 mins at a stretch during the day, I was a total nervous wreck during those months. I would think of the days ahead and imagine the worst possible scenarios-that of a possible clingy cry-baby, of not being able to cope with raising a child and managing the house at the same time and of difficult breast-weaning times. But...none of those happened. It was a total turnover at the end of 3 months. At no point did you cry without a solid reason- this is true even now. You weaned yourself on your own without protest in a couple of months of starting the feeding bottle and the transition from the feeding bottle to a sippy-cup was also totally hassle free.

You were very active even as a 5 month baby, when you began to move on your belly frontwards and backwards, scaring me into pushing away any stray furniture into the farthest corners of the house. You could sit on your own only at 9 months while most of your peers did it at 6 months. But I was not worried because you were doing fine on the other aspects of growing up. Thanks to the babycentre weekly updates and articles I understood that there is a huge range even within the normal pattern of growth. You almost never crawled and moved adeptly on your belly till the 10 month after which you accelerated on the physical milestone by beginning to crawl and stand at the same time. You were walking comfortably on your first Birthday! And now, you are an able climber too- climbing your way onto the windows, tiny ledges and raising the bar for yourself each time.

You have grown into a very sweet and easy-going toddler. Well, by saying sweet I am not absolving you of your mischievous, naughty and exasperating ways, antics and tantrums! You are all of this, yet a very affectionate and gentle child who genuinely likes the company of other kids, also willing to share your toys with them. So easy and gentle that sometimes I get worried because you do not react when other kids shove you, hit you or snatch away their toys from your hand. My heart breaks each time you come crying or whine when these things happen. I want to tell you, "hit back!", "snatch the toy back!" but my own nature holds my tongue and mostly I implore you to put your hand up and say "No. No pushing/ hitting or please give back the toy" to the other kid. I want you to learn on your own to defend yourself and also assert your rights instead of smothering you. Of course I'll be there always if things go out of control.Seems like you have saved your aggressive behaviour only for me-your mother. When your demands are not met, you hit, bite and howl at me. Of course, I have nothing of all this and use the carrot and stick method to put you on your track.

I sometimes feel I am raising a nerd because you absolutely love going over and over the ABCs, 123s, rhymes and story-books. It is so much fun and pleasure to hear you recite the rhymes in your "mazhalai" (baby talk). You have begun to string two-three words to form a sentence, repeat all that we say (!!) and talk in rhetorical questions. This is certainly the best phase (and am of course not talking about the beginning of the tantrum phase!:-)) and am glad that I decided to be with you during your growing up years.

May all your dreams come true, R. Wishing you the best-est of the best in this universe. Happy Birthday!!!

Thoughts from the heart

2011-11-25T08:19:00.000+05:30

You came into my life like a whiff of fresh air
took me under your wings and said,
come, lets travel this life together

You and me are very different,
you are the epitome of calm, ever composed
I am the spice, ever potent
while I like things planned,
you are a person of the moment

Disagree we do, and a lot
but even amidst emotions gamut,
you've guarded the wedding pact
of keeping love, respect and faith intact

Truly, my love, I am blessed
to have you by my side
I hope to have played my role,
in all justice, warmth and care

I wish you all the best in life;
all that the universe can grant and give,
of health and wealth, friends and cheer,
of never dying trust and lots of love,
between you and ones dear

On this special day,
you may be miles away,
hence, sending you my wishes
and a note of thanks, dear hubby
wishing you a very Happy Birthday!

********************************
P.s.: The husband tried his best to leave on the night of 26th, so that we could be together for his as well as the lil'one's 2nd B'day which is tomorrow but then somethings are beyond one's control, so here I am ..

P.p.s: I would not have said as much to his face, and he reads my blog regularly, hence this is better..:-)

Gone missing

2011-11-21T09:29:00.000+05:30

Ever wondered how some things in the house go "missing" and despite deploying thorough search warrants along with sniffer dogs (ok, maybe not sniffer dogs), the thing remains elusive. And one fine day, while a search warrant is being deployed for a different misplaced item, pop! there you find the first misplaced thing staring right in your face as though shaming you by saying, "I was here only all the time. Too bad you lost sleep over me!" But of course the timing of things going amiss and emerging suddenly from dark alleys is always disproportional to the urgency of the need.

I have been the eternal "loser" of erasers, pencils, sharpeners, water-bottles and tiffin boxes when in school. It was as though I had no control of myself when it came to "forgetting" to take these back home. Had I saved the money spent on the fines that I have paid to retrieve the "lost belongings", I would've had a size-able amount in my kitty by now. I have tried hard to shrug off this careless nature in me and become more responsible in my school life. But as they say, old habits die hard. I am trying hard to compensate for that phase in the adulthood.

In my quest to turn into a new leaf, I needed to be more organized. I began to clear unnecessary clutter in the house and stashing important items into "safe havens". Only that at times, both these activities assumed extreme proportions. Documents so safely tucked away that when it was time to retrieve them, I still couldn't find them! And talking of clearing away clutter, I have developed a fetish for throwing away papers (read used bus, air and rail tickets) and sundry pamphlets- that make their way surreptitiously into the house-that are strewn in all the corners. The moment I see these, my mind and body goes into a tizzy and they automatically resemble a crane gathering and throwing them into the dustbin. Oh! did I mention that in the process, I have been guilty of throwing even recent shopping bills and tickets that might have been of importance?. Hubby sure will have ~~many~~ a few trump cards to prove me guilty.

Alas! I still have a list of things that have been organized-ly "misplaced". A dupatta, a blouse, a bottle, a container, so on and so forth. My quest to be an organized and responsible citizen of this earth continues...

I wish....

2011-11-15T10:24:00.001+05:30

... I had the boon of sprouting extra arms. Really, I need it at least in the morning hours. Imagine a scene, when the coffee needs to be made, the lunch and breakfast prepared, lunch packed, breakfast eaten, something called a bath needs to be checked off the list and in the midst of all this the toddler needs to be fed, cleaned and kept away from making merry and mischief. Imagine doing all of this like a juggler's act. Phew!

I wish I could yell at the clock, "shrimati tickticky shaant hojayiye!" "Mujhe lifeline chaahiye!!!". Actually it works much better if this is directed at the Husband who is peacefully meditating while the circus is on at full swing. No fun being alone in the circus. More the merrier. So the Husband joins in haplessly. He dons the garb of the lifeline and proceeds to handle the toddler who is a gleeful spectator and also the secret catalyst in sprucing the whole show.

Then there are days that seem like the universe is out to punish you for all the wrong doings in the last 5 lifetimes, all at once in this lifetime. The dal gets burnt, the dosas stick to the pan, the milk boils over onto the stove and the counter, the toddler is at his extra energetic self, having already spilt the sugar and salt on the floor, decides to re-design the interiors and insists on having the sofa cushions on the floor. The law of Murphy also works to the Tee on such days with the Husband suddenly announcing that he has a meeting early in the day and "sadly" he cannot be the "lifeline" that day. On such days I have resisted the urge to scream "Bachaoooooooo" and dash out of the house.

Of friends and friendship

2011-11-13T16:53:00.000+05:30

I was browsing through my e-mails the other day and pop on the side chat-bar a very familiar name goes green. I am torn between opening up the chat box and typing an enthusiastic HI and keeping a check on my friendly hormones that are threatening to spill onto the keyboard. It's been really long since we chatted or spoke over the phone. Whatever little updates I keep getting about her is from the good old Facebook. She seems to be a busy person, what with one morning in the US and the other evening in Vienna. Lovely pictures of her family used to be a part of her regular updates but since a few months they have ominously been replaced with travel and work updates. My heart is jumping to ask her how she is REALLY doing and what has she been up to these days? Is all OK?? But it has been really really long since we had a heart-to-heart talk and I am unsure if the warmth we shared is still alive in the hearts (hers...). Amidst the tug-of-war between heart and mind, I type a hesitant HI. Pause..5 minutes..10 minutes..No reply. I am about to type again but a tiny voice pops in my head and says, ah! you are imagining things. Of course all must be well. Remember the FB status? She must be busy now. I close the chat-box and try to concentrate on other things. Now, this friend was once a really good friend of mine. We shared a great rapport and a lot of common things. Things got busy, life got busy, we still managed to touch base with odd phone calls and wishing each other on B'days and anniversaries. Then slowly, the odd phone call was replaced by sms and then it was just the FB.

This could be a leaf out of anybody's life book. Do you remember your friends from school or college?. Are you in touch with at least one friend from school/college? In-touch, as in, truly know what is happening with one another, not the Facebook updates that are for all to see. I have bitter sweet memories of friends and friendships from the days of school and college. The close bond of friendship I managed to form with a handful are neither from school or college. We met at the after-college classes and stuck together since then. It doesn't, however, stop me from marvelling at how this bond forms and develops and changes over time. People change. Situations change. Relationships change. This is an universal truth. No matter how you bond with one person today, there is no guarantee that the bond will remain the same 2, 5, or 10 years from now. This classic rule applies, among others in varying degrees, to friendships too- one of the most important, beautiful yet very fragile relationships. It may evolve, become better, go to the next level, blossom, flower or even stagnate or perish altogether. Life is ever-changing, time ever-demanding. Communication has never been so easy. Never so impersonal too. It takes more effort these days to give your time, space and energy towards any relationship. The standard approach does not and will not work if you care more for some relationships than others.

It feels good to hide under the cliches like "oh! we connect like we never disconnected so, it doesn't matter if we do not talk frequently"..and so on. But, really? is it so?. At least, with me, given my not so outspoken nature, I falter in asking personal questions if the silence between has stretched a little too long. For me, it does matter if you can connect in ways other than the Facebook or Twitter or through Fwds in an email. The frequency may vary and a lapse of few months is OK but when the lull stretches a little too long, individual lives take over and the urgency to connect is put on the back burner and is slowly "forgotten". Reasons like "been caught up with life" are used with higher dosage and sometimes as an excuse too.

Friends from school and college bond with one another during the span of the course like there is no tomorrow and part with each other with promises of staying in touch. Some manage to do so despite distances and in-between crossing personal and professional milestones. Time is sometimes stolen and squeezed out to fulfill a commitment made years ago- of maintaining the relationship, no matter what. But, many fall wayward intentionally or unintentionally. The great times of camaraderie becomes a part of nostalgia, reminisced wistfully, yet the will and effort to re-kindle it lacks the fire.

So, what makes one go at lengths to remain friends with the other? why do some friends remain so for generations while some wither with time?

Like any other relationship, friendship also needs to grow. There has to be something in it for each of the persons concerned with it. When one person stops growing or grows in a direction that clashes with the growth of the other, the relation is endangered. Sooner or later, the relationship breaks under the weight of the opposing forces.

It also requires the mutual commitment to keep it going. If only one person shares the weight of keeping the relationship alive, it will not survive for too long.

Adversity is test of human relationships for it is only during the hard times does the real person emerge. But if one shuts himself inside, not letting even his close friend see the pain and the hurt, he loses an important aspect of the other person's friendship. He denies his friend the trust, confidence and faith and the chance to survive the mettle of friendship. The friend feels betrayed for he suddenly finds himself out of the life of someone he had considered to be close to him.

One also needs to a part of the others' journey in life, however different it may be. If not in every small event, at least in totality.

Are you still reading? Yes, you!..OK, you may wake up now. The sermon's over. Have you learnt your lessons? What lessons you ask??? ..sigh! I know...that was a longish post with a lot of "gyan" thrown in. It's the beginning of another week and if you are like me, you would be mourning the toughest day of the week-Monday. So, if I have lost you in between, I will understand.

I was like that

2011-11-09T22:51:00.000+05:30

Yesterday a participant on KBC asked the Big B to name the only two letters in the Alphabet from which none of the names of his movies began with. The question took me back to those days where I had made a chart that featured the BigB's movie names starting with each letter of the Alphabet. I also made a list that listed out the movies that had an unusual pairing of a leading lady with the superstar.I used to be so star-crazed and overawed by Mr. Bachchan back then. Not that I am no longer his fan but these statistics don't mean much to me now. I know what you are thinking. You can say that aloud. I am getting old. Hmm..Ok. But WTH, who has not gone through this phase? When I see people much older than I going ga-ga over him on the hot seat, I can only smile and think that I have not been alone in idol-worshiping the actor.

I have watched almost all his movies. Ok, not the ones from the 80s era. That decade is certainly the most forgettable phase in the otherwise glorious career. I have lost count of the number of times I have watched certain movies like Chupke Chupke, Amar Akbar Anthony, Abhimaan, Don, Trishul, Namak Halal..oh the list can go on.... Whether I knew my economics or not, I knew the dialogues of these films by rote and could recognize a film from the background score! Not only the Bachchan ones, I loved watching any sensible movie. I had the reputation of possessing the highest knowledge quotient in the field of films and songs. I also knew all about the latest film releases and was up-to-date with the new songs, actors et all. I would come up with impromptu quizzes like: name a movie that starts with the letter "F" and that paired Sharmila Tagore and Amitabh as the leading pair? I guess it was the only movie. Such quizzes were targeted at the poor folks at home who had labelled me a movie buff and had mastered the art of ignoring me at such times..:-))!

Being married to a guy, who although loved watching movies, was not so movie-crazed, and cared much less about old hindi movies meant losing touch with that part of myself. He has never heard of certain movies or songs, so there was no fun rattling off dialogues or playing an impromptu quiz about songs or movies. So, although we watched movies regularly, the old passion (which anyway was dying a natural death) faded slowly and after the kid entered the scene, even watching movies became a rare event.

Now, cut to the present:
I had my cousin and his wife over sometime back and the conversation veered towards movies. He mentioned that the recent movie they saw was "Shaitan"*.
My reaction: Oh! is there such a movie? Is it a horror one?

Such stand the state of affairs!

* The recent one starring kalki Koechlin and Abhay Deol.

Who's correct?

2011-11-07T13:57:00.000+05:30

Disclaimer: Only Tamil-knowing people might appreciate the below post.

Among other differences that Hubby and I have, is the language difference. Well, OK we both speak Tamil. But the Tamil I speak is ~~very~~ different from his. He speaks the Chennai lingo and I speak the Mumbai lingo. What, you don't know what Mumbai lingo is? If you have spoken to Tamilians from this corner of the country, you would know. You might assume that person hails from Kerala. Like many have assumed so for me. Some have even asked if I am a mallu. I have that huge an influence of palakkad tamil in my way of speaking. Why, you ask? Just blame it on the number of actual Palakkadus I was surrounded by when I was growing up. Also I use the pure version of Tamil like "vango, pongo, aatuku vango" as opposed to the chennai lingo of "vanga, ponga, veetuku vaanga".

Once Hubby said, with reference to some joke, that it was "chance e illa". It was the initial period of marriage and was not conversant with his way of words and I had confusion writ on my face for why the joke didn't stand a chance??? Now, how was I to know it meant "too good"???
Soon I learned new words like "sooper, kalaikittai, semma (nothing in relation to semiya or sevvaiya), naasti (has got nothing to do with being nasty), thalaivar-thalaivi, and vetti" ( I thought it was veshti mispronounced) among others that were a part of Hubby's vocabulary. I rolled my eyes each time the words were uttered because in my opinion they are not the part of "correct" language. I am the authority you see. Of course hubby doesn't agree but nevertheless, I decide the pureness of the language. Never mind the fact that I use Hindi and English ~~sometimes~~ liberally to fill the void when "correct" Tamizh (see Tamil is actually Tamizh) words fail to strike me at the right time. But..authorities enjoy the exemption of being under scrutiny, you see.

Hubby and I have healthy ~~fights~~ debates over who speaks the correct language, without expecting the other to admit defeat. He is also wise enough not to suggest that I make the necessary linguistic tweaking. Only when I once spoke to a auto fella in Chennai did he warn me quite strongly that when you deal with auto guys in Chennai, you need to either speak like one of "the locals" or shut up.

I had no idea how much the lingo mattered until the question of "neenga palakkadaa?" became so common that I would almost be apologetic at this question and proceed to explain why inspite of not being a palakaddu, I was being mistaken for one. The lengthy answer sounded tiresome to my own ears. I have tried to summon all my acting skills and get into the skin of a thorough Chennaiite to speak the tongue, even using all the keywords. I have, at these times, provided comic relief to the hubby. Trust me, it is like learning a new language.

Boozho toh jaano

2011-11-05T12:58:00.000+05:30

Ok, here is a riddle. No, no, don't search for your reading glasses and the browser is also not playing any truant. These are some gems from R speak vocabulary. See, if you can decipher them.

faain down faain down
dandan
myfaedady

buii du ainchi ainchi
buii du ainchi ainchi
myfaedady

ainchi bendabo bendabo
ainchi bendabo myfaedady

daki daki gaati
daki daki gaati
kaati goda
dumpeche maya
goda goda goda

gambatti moyya
mangamuti moyaa

dain dain goway
come agen andade
ittle ichab wanchupay

Do you want the answers?

******
Some favourite phrases:

Appa yenge..kaanume...adho..
tukiko (used only at times)
vendama..poruma..bashh (when asked to eat something he doesn't want/like)
tata ponam..kai picchu (used at all times!)
tupaesh/bach
enadadhu?
aebeecheedee paatu (his fav on the comp along with the rhymes. He is just crazy about the abcd, rhymes and stuff. But I dissuade him from watching too much of it. I think it will be an overdose at this stage and he'll get bored of school then!)
and of course- maatain (the famous NO)

The will to achieve

2011-11-03T13:30:00.000+05:30

Is it possible to work without any expectations? Is it possible to dream a life that is entirely an antithesis of your present existence and yet be grounded enough to work towards the goal, however far-fetched, it may seem?
A dream, we may have. But not many of us have the faith in it or the perseverance to attain it. Self-doubts about our ability surface when met with the smallest of hurdles. Giving it all up to settle for something mediocre or "more achievable" seems like a practical and sane option rather than fighting with yourself, your destiny and the society.

The burning desire to achieve is probably more present in those that have "apparently" nothing to lose. No false ego that will see a fall in the event of a failure; in underdogs that are free from the expectations of society. Probably, this is why people from small towns do so well in the KBC contest. They are much more well-read and more importantly grounded than their many city-bred counterparts who although have access to better means of livelihood, fall short in the area of humanitarian qualities like humility and sensitivity towards fellow-beings.

A perfect example of the above is Mr.Sushil Kumar of Bihar, who turned from a meagre-earning computer operator to the first contestant of the season to win the 5-crore prize money.
What a moment it was! Not only for him but even for the rest of us who watched it. I could feel the tension, joy and ecstasy and yet could not place myself in his or his family's shoes entirely. Oh! what a moment it must have been for them. Truly happy and elated for them.

Image courtesy: google.com

Amchi Mumbai or namma Bengalooru?

2011-10-31T23:14:00.000+05:30

I had written a post earlier about how I felt about life in Hyderabad as compared to that in Mumbai, my hometown. Now that I am back from Mumbai after a looong vacation, I am inclined towards comparing it with Bangalore, my current home for the past one year. Some random observations, in no particular order, preference or importance:

When I landed in Mumbai, it was hot, humid, sultry and I was sweating like mad. Nothing unusual. Only, I have got used to better weather conditions. Ya, ya, after spending 25 good years in the same weather conditions, how can I say that? My mother felt so too. But..but..one does get used to good things faster, right? Imagine a city, where for most part of the year, you do not need a fan running even in the dead of the afternoon, where, your bag always has a pair of warm clothes for the kid to brace out the cool and windy evenings, where, a light drizzle can bring the temperature notches down on a warm day. Well, you really can't blame me now.

In Mumbai, there was never a day when I left my house without a hanky and a liberal dose of the deo. But Bangalore spoilt me. I used the deo nevertheless but on the days I forgot to, I was not subject to any embarrassment. The hankies lay washed and unused in the cupboard. This time, I realized much to my embarrassment that my favourite deo was incapable of handling the Mumbai weather and lost the battle against the more powerful sweat beads. Then the weather gods took pity on me and sent a week of evening showers accompanied by gusty winds to cool us ( the city and me). I had no reason to complain about the weather for the rest of my vacation. Yes, the deo and the hanky still occupied the top spot but their vain status had dimmed.

Time in Mumbai has two pairs of wings. I had the luxury of waking up late with additional exemption from cooking too. Yet, before I knew it mornings melted into afternoons and soon turned to dark evenings. Blame it on winter or the fast life, I felt I was riding on airplanes called time. Having kids around can also give the same illusion, though (for most part of the day, R had his cousin for company). Bangalore can be fast paced for working people but for me, it is the weekends that fly faster than the weekdays; though life in general is definitely faster than in Hyderabad.

Inspite of being privy to maa ke haath ka khaana (which translates to tasty food), I was eating lesser- which again can be blamed on the climate. I have realized that I have larger portions of meal at Bangalore and eat rather frequently. Hmm, if I need to check my weight anytime in future I better relocate back to Mumbai. Oh hold on! how can I when awesome chaats and vada pav beckon me from every street corner? I sorely miss them in Bangalore.

An evening walk near my parents house would ensure coming across at least a dozen known faces, most of who will know who you are, whom you married and where you currently reside. So, I would be greeted with a huge smile and the usual and standard questions of "when did you come?" "will you stay longer?" "hows life in xyz city?". When I came back to Bangalore after almost a month, I realized no one at the park area where I meet so called acquaintances would have even missed seeing me around. A boon or a bane, I am not sure.

We came back home on Friday evening and the house felt so empty. The silence was almost deafening. No fights to resolve, no sweet banter of the children, no doting grandma to spoil R with chocolates and kalkanddu (sugar candy) on demand. It was good that weekend began and we had friends to meet. Also, no Monday blues because Tuesday is a state holiday! :-)

Hope you guys had a great Diwali and a lovely weekend...

Passport to a healthy pregnancy

2011-10-20T23:08:00.000+05:30

When I found out I was pregnant, my first reaction was like oh god! really, so soon, already??
Now, it was all planned but we never expected it to happen that fast. It was just a month after we decided we would have a baby and we had given ourselves at least 6 months time to "let it happen". So, we were more surprised and a tad (only a tad) reluctant to let go of our carefree days yet :-).

My first point or secret to a healthy pregnancy would be that : it starts much before "getting pregnant". The body needs to be well-maintained and healthy before you embark on this ever-exhausting journey of motherhood. Both my husband and I were practicing yoga for quite sometime and we attribute our effortless entry into this phase to this fact. In this fast paced life where sedentary and stressful lifestyle giving rise to fertility issues is not uncommon, this is an important criterion to be fulfilled.

I dealt with severe nausea and vomiting during the entire first trimester. The changing hormones definitely left me emotionally and physically drained. I could barely cook leave alone eat anything. Whatever little I shoved down my throat would promptly be thrown out. We were worried about the baby getting the required nutrition as also with my health for I had lost 4 Kgs by the end of the first three months.. The doctor laid our fears to rest. Even if the mother fails to eat a balanced and nutritional meal during the first three months, when nausea usually strikes, the baby takes the required and deficient nutrients from the mother's blood. So even some amount of weight-loss for the mother during that phase is considered normal as long as the baby is growing fine. Only if there is a prolonged and constant deficiency in the nutritional intake for the remaining term of the pregnancy, there is cause for alarm and medical intervention. So, do read up about the myths over the net or confide in your gynaec and remain well-informed. Do not get carried away by what other people have to say. Know your body. Sign-up with any of the baby-sites that usually provide weekly updates during the pregnancy and also feature very interesting and informative articles. I had signed up with the babycentre.

Mothers-to-be dealing with a difficult, especially first pregnancy are bound to deal with some negative thoughts and mild depression-like state at some point or other. The trick is to acknowledge that it can be quite normal and not beat yourself about it or take a guilt-trip. Contrary to what the movies depict about being instantly exhilarated about the new arrival and automatically settling into the grove of a mother, real motherhood can be quite gradual and definitely not instant. Having said that, if the negative feelings or depression takes longer to clear, even after physical discomfort goes away, you may need to take help of a counsellor. Do indulge in your favourite hobby, read light-hearted books, listen to music, take a short vacation, anything that will keep you relatively- and for the major part- positive about the baby.

I continued to do yoga ( do read more about the kind here ) for the entire term and resumed it as soon as my body regained strength after delivery. It helped me have a calm mind during labour, the breathing asanas come in handy at the crucial time and enabled me have a smooth and normal delivery. The bonus: I had little trouble getting back into shape later. Any form of exercise, after consultation with the doctors, is essential to ensure a smooth- and to an extent- a normal way of delivery. Despite best efforts, an unplanned C-section can happen. So please do not feel guilty of the same. If nothing, the exercise will surely assist you to get back into your pre-pregnancy shape faster.

Last and not the least, please do take the "eat for two now" advice with a ~~huge~~ pinch of salt. Indulge at times but do not over-indulge just because you are entitled to do so. Eat healthy and maintain proper weight-gain. Remember: It will take you 9 months to pile on whatever you wish but it may take longer to shed off that excess weight if you do not watch out.

So, that's my mantra- at least the one I followed- for a healthy pregnancy and a healthy baby.

A rush of thrill

2011-10-20T00:05:00.000+05:30

Bloggers live in the perennial fear of getting a writer's block and get nightmares of their blog slipping into a coma-like state. I have been close to coming to this stage many times but fortunately something or the other would serve as the proverbial straw to a drowning man. Mostly it would either be someone else's blog post that would inspire me to write a similar experience or a timely blog contest. This time it is both. The contest is by Women's Web about the Passport to a healthy pregnancy; details here. Tan wrote a post about her adventurous experience here, which lit up the bulb in my head where a similar experience was lying buried gathering dust. For no particular reason or intention, the contest has been given the second preference.

I am basically not an adventurous person. Though I like some surprises thrown in here and there, to a large extent I like things planned. Also, I lack the courage to do something out of the ordinary just for a thrill. For the really adventurous, the incident I am about to narrate may seem quite trivial and not worthy of a mention. So, if you belong to that category, this post may not be for you. The others can read on. So, this happened in the year 2005. We friends, three of us, all girls ( out of the gang of five) decided to go on a trip to Kashmir with a popular tours and travel group. For me, the adventure began at that stage itself. My parents were dead against me going to the infamous place for obvious reasons. I, on my part was caught between trying to convince either set to align with the other party's interest. Since my friends' parents were OK with the idea, it was left to me to take the call. It took all of the rebellious streak in me, combined with my friends A and S's pleadings, to get my parents to give their consensus, which they offered when they found out how adamant we were. The travel guys on their part also assured us of our safety and claimed to have planned a safe itinerary. Since they enjoy a good reputation, we were inclined to believe them as they too have their own name and fame to protect.

That particular day was meant to visit the Char Chinar island. After a boat-ride on the lake, the travel guide gave us the evening free for shopping at the row of floating shops on the lake that sold jaw-dropping kashmiri wares- from handicrafts to carpets to shawls to sarees and dress-materials. We were enamoured by the sheer beauty of the setting and the idea of having such an unique shopping experience. We were told to remain in a group and come back to the hotel before dark. The group dispersed according to individual interests and we three friends found ourselves with another family in a shop that sold dress-materials and sarees. We were so engrossed in selecting stuff for ourselves and our families that we did not realize when the other family left our side and when daylight turned to pitch darkness. As we left the shop, we realized that the other members were nowhere near where we shopped. Either they had gone back to the hotel or were still shopping far off from where we were.

The boatman who rowed us to this shop was waiting to take us back. Sensing our tension, he said that he would reach us back safely and there was no need for any worry. As we were ferried back through the labyrinth of houseboats, the enormity of the risk factor dawned on us. Every place looked alike. None of us had any clue if we were rowed back in the right direction. Given the nature of the location, although each of us carried our mobiles, there was no network. Meaning- we could not call anyone for help if something went wrong. Although it was not late by the clock, darkness had set in to give an illusion of an unearthly hour. The only light that permeated through the chilly darkness was the light emanating from the nearby houseboats. But every light seemed eerie and every person including the boatman looked fishy. The onward journey which probably took the same time seemed hopelessly longer on the way back. The same surrounding that looked so scenic and cheerful by the day, seemed haunting and dangerous by the night. We just kept looking at each others faces to gather hope and cheer and spoke nonsense to ward off the demons in our head. The boatman, probably sensing our apprehensions, kept reassuring us at regular intervals that he will ensure our safe return. We only had hope with us and prayed like hell in our minds. Only when saw the banks from a distance did we heave a collective sigh of relief. With hearts palpitating from the sheer excitement of our escapade we thanked the boatman profusely before running back to our hotel.

Phew! what an experience. We just prayed a little longer to thank God before hitting the bed that night.

A rant

2011-10-16T23:39:00.000+05:30

I know I know, I said it is break time and here is a new post from me. But let me warn you, it is purely a rant. Had to get it out of my system. So guys you are free to skip reading the following.

It has been a crazy and sick-literally- holiday so far. For the first 10 days, R and S (niece) took ill one after the other. We barely got well and adjusted to the new place and my mom has now fallen sick. R is still being strange. He is back to his naughty and mischievous self, no doubt. But he rarely plays alone with my parents. Not even his paati with whom he was all chummy just a month back at Bangalore. Five minutes with them and he begins to look for me. This has thrown all my plans of meeting friends, shopping and general TP out of the window. There is no point dragging him along for the above itinerary. He wouldn't relish it or let me either. Also, he eating all my time by insisting on viewing some rhymes whenever I get a chance to be at the computer. The keyboard and CPU being at his reach makes it difficult for me to multi-task this activity which otherwise I used to do at my place. Not only the computer but the switches around the house are all at his reach and when he is not bothering me, he is playing truant with them-"on", "off" goes each one of them like a discotheque. Hardly amusing when the house has been recently renovated with every corner shining clean and bright. I am just putting it down (the clingy behaviour, that is) to being at a new place compounded by the fact that his dad is not around. Though, given his hitherto easy-going nature has me unconvinced with this reasoning. But, you can't really predict toddler behaviour, right? Hoping that this is temporary phase and he has not morphed suddenly into a clingy, insecure child. *crossing fingers*.

My worries carry further. Hubby might have to travel abroad starting mid-Nov for about 6 weeks. This translates to me having to come back to Mumbai for the said period. With R's current behaviour, that's hardly a jump-with-glee situation for me. That's not all, we had a sight-seeing trip to Bhubaneshwar planned along with my sister's family in Dec to coincide with my cousin's wedding there. I was looking forward to that trip since the time we got to know of the wedding which is like 6 months now. I'll still go for the wedding but am seriously reconsidering taking the sight-seeing route 'cause am really not up to putting up with R in his current persona all alone. To manage a hyper-active AND clingy toddler all alone is not my idea of a vacation. I am not even talking about the multitude of ticket rescheduling that will have to be done. I am still sulking with the new development, though. Grrrrrrrrrrrrrr.

Phew! rant over.

P.S.: Secretly hoping that the visa gets rejected *casting an evil-spell, muhahahaa*

Break (brake?) time....

2011-10-14T16:52:00.000+05:30

A combination of various factors is keeping me away from my favourite activity of blogging.

Blog idea planting its seed. No time to make it into a full-fledged post because either the kids (R and niece S) are viewing Tom & Jerry on the computer or within minutes of logging on, I am required to play referee to a power-struggle between R & S. Net result-Idea lost.

Computer free, I can contemplate writing. But *Tish* the power goes off. Damm the load-shedding.

Power on, computer free, surprise of surprise- kids not climbing on me or chewing my brains. Perfect? oh no, the net connection is so poor that I can take a short walk and still find the page loading screen.

But, I badly want to post something, so, here I vainly announce that my blog crossed 10,000 page hits today.

So, folks maybe it's time I take a short break till the factors start to favour me.

The festive mania

2011-10-07T14:16:00.000+05:30

The Navaratri mania is over. Phew! Now, don't mistake me. I am all for the tradition and the festivities but when it goes beyond one's reasoning and ceases to retain its flavour to turn into just a mad frenzy of calling sundry maamis over and going over to another set of sundry maami's houses for "vettalai paaku", its time to take stock. With due respect to the intentions and sentiments that go behind celebrating a festival, I feel today the original custom has been twisted and contorted to the extent of dis-figuration.

The scene goes like this : some maami chances upon you at the temple/road/someone else's house and invites you over for "vettalai-paaku". You don't know her too well but you go nevertheless because of respect or sentiments. Its your turn then, you call the same mami with whom you have never spoken more than two lines in the chance encounter of five times in a year, out of courtesy. Another lady is very enterprising and decides that the usual tambulam is boring and decides to add colour to it by 'gifting' some article that could range anywhere from a steel-ware to trays to show-pieces to fancy handicraft items. This new practice is 'copied' by others and 'improvised' by few others to incorporate a sense of competition amongst people who give and take tambulams. The coconuts overflow on the kitchen counter and the same ones that were given to one are given off to some others.

What is the point and purpose of the this whole exhausting exercise where the recipient and the giver are out to "out-do" one another or are simply following the herd out of the need to 'return the favour'? The essence, joy and flavour of a festival is not only lost on needless rituals, on the contrary it only only brings in a distaste and a sigh of relief when the festival gets over. The customs need to be retained in their true form, rituals evolved to include helping needy people. Nothing fancy is required. Maybe you can offer 'bonus dakshinai' for your maid, cleaner or some such people who are in need of necessities instead of loading people of the same strata or upper strata with mindless rounds of coconuts and 'gifts' that are passed on like batons in a race and in the end, largely go unused or 'wasted'. If at all you feel the need to go out of the ordinary, you can probably distribute eco-friendly products that are cheap and reusable and encourage others to do the same. People can come home to pay obeisance to the deities and take part in the golu, if any, however discourage the urge to call someone only because you are 'guilty' of receiving the tambulam from that individual. That will ensure the true circulation of positive vibes that come from wish and not from compulsion. Just my two cents here. What do you feel?

A roller-coaster ride

2011-10-05T15:06:00.001+05:30

Oh! what a weekend it has been. I landed at the parent's place in B'bay yesterday and boy I am glad that it was nearly uneventful. It has been a test of my nerves since Friday last.

Like any other evening, I was at the play area with R on Friday evening. R was his usual self, running and scampering around, with me close at his heels. It was nearing time to head back home when R wanted to play a little extra on the standing merry-go-round. No sooner did I place him down back on the ground than he shot off in a run. My friend N and her son V (around R's age) were a feet away and she beckoned him. It was that split second's delay that decided the course of the rest of the evening. I waited just that much time to see if R went to her before rushing off to run after him. By then it was little too late. R dashed off from underneath the slide and darted towards where some older kids were rocking pretty fast on the swing. He missed getting hit from one on coming swing only to get hit by the next one. I was almost there to hold him but was unable to save him from the blow. Oh! how this scene replayed later in my head several times and how I wished I was swifter.

R let out a cry immediately and I covered his head at the area where he got hit. My head was already swimming. Someone told me to sit on the bench nearby. As I sat down, I noticed the blood on R's head. My friend N told me to rush to the doctor's and offered to accompany me. I gladly accepted her help and we rushed on her two-wheeler to a clinic that was nearby. I could have taken the car. This was precisely why I wanted to learn to drive- help myself during emergencies. Of course I had not taken into account another important factor that is needed during such times. Enormous control over one's emotions and a cool head. I was not prepared in this faculty. I was just thankful for the friend's presence and hoped to God desperately that nothing was serious. R had meanwhile stopped crying but the blood was still oozing. It was not profuse but enough to scare me.

At the clinic, we were immediately shown into a ER where some nurses examined the wound. R began to holler here. I imagined he was in pain again but in hindsight I gathered that it was probably due to the hospital atmosphere and also innate skill of sensing an abnormal circumstance that kids have. I was tense and it was showing. I kept asking the nurses several times about the seriousness of the injury.

"Its a cut, will require stitches"

"stitches??..oh that serious..is it very deep..how many stitches?"

"The doctor will have to see. The orthopedic is seeing another patient, he'll will come. Did he have any vomiting or dizziness after the injury?"

"No. No vomiting or dizziness.When will the doctor come? Is it not an emergency?"

"He'll come. It is not very serious. We do deal with such cases everyday. Don't worry."

I had three glasses of water meanwhile and was struggling to calm R whose decibel levels were jangling my nerves further. My mind resembled a question mark and was unable to muster faith in the words of the nurse, all the time doubting the capability of doctors and staff because no one showed any sense of urgency in attending to the case. Just then a pediatric came in and explained to me that since the head region has multiple layers of nerves and cells, even a slight injury can cause blood to flow. The area is in that sense cushioned by so many layers and only if the cut was very deep or it was compounded by vomiting/nausea/dizziness/convulsions there was cause for worry. My mind regained a sense of calm after this and we waited for the orthopedic to attend to the wound. R was also much calmer than earlier and was even talking. The ortho arrived after a couple of minutes and he pronounced the need for one stitch. He explained that he would give local anesthesia and then stitch. R began to cry again and refused to sit still. I thought he was scared and suggested that I held him while the doctor did the needful. But this was not to be. R kept jumping on my lap and shaking his head and I, with all my might too, was unable to calm him and hold his head in one position. The nurses and the doctor decided that it was enough and the nurse brought out a blanket, wrapped R in it, placed him in a lying position and three of them held him tight on the bed. Phew! we were all glad when it was over. Bandaging seemed quite impossible after this and so the doctor just sprayed an ointment that would produce a thin film over the wound and asked me to keep the area dry.

Just as we got over this episode, R sprained his arm on Sunday evening. I had called two of my friends along with their family over for the usual navaratri "vettalai paaku". R was playing ringa-ringa-roses with A and A's dad. He sat down before everyone finished with "all fall down", so A's dad just gave a little tug to his hand to lift him up and R began to cry soon after. He generally doesn't cry without any reason so we were all concerned when the crying didn't stop after repeated distractions. It was not a non-stop cry of pain. He would whimper for a while and then accelerate for a while. Suspecting a sprain we took him to the ER of the hospital where he usually takes his vaccines. They took an X-ray to rule out any dislocation and thankfully when none were found, prescribed a gel for the sprain.

The weekend was packed with enough hospital visits, though I can't thank God enough that they were not grave. Only, it had me a little jostled and worried about the flight I was to take with R alone to B'bay on Tuesday. Well, let me say we came in one piece without any more drama. R seems to be missing the familiar surrounding and his dad. He is not even moving well with his pati whom he had just met and adjusted to well a month ago. He's unusually clingy, quiet and not in his elements but he brightens upon seeing my niece S who is just a year older to him. So, hoping that he would settle in a couple of days.

Blogging and its effects on me

2011-09-30T16:45:00.000+05:30

I had always been fascinated with the idea of writing. No, not from school times or even college. At that time, I simply detested the manner in which we had to fill some pages with content that was cramped forcefully into the heads a few evenings before and had to be spilled before the content itself got lost. Even essays never gave me the thrill of writing. My imagination always betrayed me when presented with a theme and time constraint. So, when exactly did I develop a fascination? I cannot say. When I was in college, my friend, who was studying astrology and palmistry then, told me that I may possess some flair for writing as my hand showed artistic nature, I had, at that time, laughed dismissively at the prospect. I told her, maybe the talent is elsewhere. Artistic could mean a lot of things. Although I found the idea, at least then, quite absurd, it somehow remained in my mind. I began to have notions of discovering a latent author in me. I did nothing about it, though. Not even a diary. The idea and notions got buried in the other mundane rituals of life.

A couple of years ago, I discovered the full use of the magical world of the internet. The world of blogging and its innumerable possibilities came by as a chance discovery and I thought, why not use this as a medium to experiment with my notions? To be honest, when I began this blog, I had no idea of what I was going to be writing or blogging about. I was almost about to chicken out before deciding to give myself a chance and then decided to just pen down my thoughts in a coherent manner. I was glad to discover that this blog gave me the perfect platform to unleash my thoughts on any issue close to my heart and also serve as a journal to record the antics and milestones of my toddler.

I began to enjoy the comments on my posts that began to trickle in slowly. The number of followers gave me a high. I took the compliments of my readers seriously and began to write more. Every time a thought cropped up in my mind, I would start thinking it could be a material for a post. My experiments grew ambitious and I dabbled with some poetry too. Of course, as they say, the crow's cawing is music to its ears. But the encouragement from my readers and the few who care to leave a comment does pep me up to dish out more and better. Sometimes, the anticipation of comments and praise overpowers my brains, much like that of a alcoholic thirsting for alcohol. I furiously open my mail the few hours after I hit the "publish" button. A rush of disappointment engulfs me if I find none. At least I expect my regular readers to comment. The stats on the blog is something to cheer but the comments are definitely the high point.

Blogging can be a lonely experience if not for the interaction that happens through comments. Blogging and commenting are like fish and water. What is a blog without its readers and comments? It is all OK to say that writing is a creative hobby and the satisfaction comes with just writing stuff, yet it does not hold true for blogging for else we all could have written a diary instead. Bloggers (at least I can speak for myself) thrive on the encouraging words of people who read them. Hence I cherish every comment I receive. I am glad to have discovered some very interesting writers and like-minded people here who motivate me with their writings and their comments on my posts. Thank you all! Please do keep commenting, suggesting and criticizing whenever and wherever applicable.
A word to people who have added me to their reading list anonymously: I am equally honoured although if you could care to de-lurk once a while or follow this blog publicly, it would do wonders for my self-esteem and encourage me to write more and better.

So, guys why do you blog? what do you think are the high points and low points of blogging? Do take it up as a tag if you wish and leave me a comment. Non-bloggers, lurkers, you are most welcome to participate. Tell us why you read blogs. What makes (or does not) you re-visit a blog after the first read?

An ode to life

2011-09-25T22:45:00.000+05:30

As I sit to write an ode
words fail to come afore
fleeting thoughts swim by
like white clouds against the blue sky

Though the eyes capture the sight
the mind fathom not the flight
Each cloud shares a story
of sunshine and rain; of laughter and gory

Who is to perish; who is to stay;
we shall be gone one day
Who are we to state
He is dark, she is fair
for even the dark cloud, as they say,
conceals a silver ray

Image courtesy: google.com

As you like it

2011-09-22T12:49:00.000+05:30

Funny, at an age where your opinions are already formed and you dare to call yourself rational, you find yourself helplessly giving in to your toddler's whims and fancies.

Scene 1: Amma: (Having a meal plate with rotis and sabzi, trying to feed R)

R: iddu *pointing to the sabzi*.

I try to reason with him and say that rotis and sabzis have to be eaten together. Distract him with a story and feed him a morsel of roti and sabzi.
R promptly spits it out. Insists iddu to the sabzi.

Amma: *resignedly feeds him what is asked*.

Rinse, repeat for rotis after a while. As long as whatever is on the plate goes in, I am not too bothered. But I am on the edge till the plate is at least 3/4th empty for you never know when these whimsical toddlers might change their minds.

The above scene can be played in many ways and in any situation.

Scene 2: At the play area
I usually let R decide what he wants to do as long as he does not come in the way of the older kids playing or the ones cycling.
R: anga..pointing to the slide
After 30 seconds, he would say, anga, pointing to the see-saw
A minute later, it is "anga", this time towards the swing.
The swing is his favourite. Till the time, I insist on him getting down, he would keep swinging.

Scene 3: Bath-time or any other time when I have to keep him occupied and entertained.

Amma: ok, I'll sing you the ABC song.
A, B, C, D....(at which juncture R interrupts)
R: iddu...Niya Niya oduva
Amma: ok, Nila Nila odi va, nillamal odi va..(interrupted again)
R: vea paatu, poo paatu, tinku, tinku...and so on...

It sometimes feels like a radio gone awry with mixed frequency signals. Couldn't help remembering this scene from the film Coolie:

A lovely time and a blue Monday- weekend update II

2011-09-21T12:44:00.002+05:30

Part one here.

Saturday evening, we went out for shopping at a near by mall. R is generally very restless during mall outings. He would keep running around the stores, trying to topple any stack of goods, generally creating a nuisance and not allowing me to shop. This time, though, we had two pairs of extra hands and legs. So mom and I shopped while hubby and dad kept a watchful eye on R. R anyway got his due share of fun- a toy train ride. These children rides in malls are out to loot you, I say. There were toy cars that ran on batteries and had attendants who maneuvered the vehicle if the kid was very young, there was this toy train and one huge bouncer. The rate for all the rides was Rs. 50 for a mere 3 minutes! We asked R to choose a ride and guess what, he said "aipain" (airplane). There was none around and it took us a while to understand R's gestures at the glass-paned lift which he referred to as airplane. Of all the rides, he chose the "free" one. While the amma appreciated the choice gleefully, the granny melted at the innocence and insisted on making him sit on one of the paid ones. What do I say! We decided on the toy-train ride for R. R got on to the train like a pro and happily sat through the entire 3 minutes, initially in a surprised daze and then consciously enjoying the ride, waving out to us as we did. We also went on the "airplane" too, ~~many~~ a few times. Hubby tutored R that it was a rocket and not airplane!

Mom and I shopped for ourselves and for my sister, niece and aunt back in Mumbai. The usual bags and stuff but every such shopping escape is so fulfilling, never mind the drawers that are overflowing with similar stuff. We had ice-cream at Baskin-Robbin's. I went for the "Tiramisu" flavour and was hugely disappointed. It tasted like some powdered medicine. yuck! :-(. We wanted to check out one last shop before going home. But R had other plans. As soon we entered the shop, I went to the deo-counter to buy one and I must have taken just about 5 minutes, within which R managed to topple something off the rack and run underneath one table that stacked some kurtis. He decided to play a game of going under and sliding out of the table, not paying heed to our coaxing to come out. He even inspired another kid there to join him in this play while the other exasperated mom looked at me resignedly. I didn't know where to look. Finally, we made a show of leaving the shop leaving R behind and only when he saw us heading out, he came out! So, folks imagine how I must be shopping for stuff with such a cooperative toddler. I accept your sympathies, thanks.

We decided to go to Lalbaugh on Sunday evening. It was the last weekend of my parent's stay and we wanted to take them to some place other than the malls in Bangalore. We finished lunch by 2.p.m and decided to leave the house max by 3.30 p.m. Seemed doable, only that my mom planned to make some coconut barfis that afternoon. Still, we thought we could manage to squeeze in that part too before leaving. I looked on (that's all the help I can lend to such matters) as mother set out to make the yummy goody. By the time the barfis were ready and we got ready, it was 4.30. The entry to the park closes at 6.p.m. and the place is about 20 kms from where we live. It being a Sunday, we still garnered hopes of getting there on time. Now, people staying in Bangalore city would be familiar with its one-ways and more now because of the metro being constructed. We reached the Garden around 5.15 only to realize that the entry gate we were at was not meant for four-wheelers. We were told to go to "another" gate by some rickshaw guy which meant, we would have to go back the route we came from and again take a U turn. Some one else said that there was a third entrance if we went ahead on our path. Since that seemed easier, we decided to go to the third gate. We reached the gate to find only two wheelers parked afront the gate and the lady at the ticket counter, who was friendlier and more informed than the previous one, told us that there is another gate meant for car park and we would have to go further down the lane and take a few turns. Time was 5.30. I asked her in desperation if we would make it in time. She said we might or if we were so worried, we could park our car across the road opposite some hotel and it would be fine. But hubby was not fine parking the car on the wayside and decided to go to the other dammed entry gate. We finally reached the magical entrance, only to find some cars parked outside the entrance blocking the gate and also the only available car-park space (we later learnt that there are a total of 4 entry gates and we ended up at all but the one we were looking for. Systematic, you say? Ok. But how about having clear instructions maybe by way of an updated route-map at every gate, so that the first-time visitors do not have to depend on stray people for assistance?). It was already 5.40 and since we didn't want to risk overstepping the time, we decided to park the car in the lane opposite to the park. I grumbled to hubby that we could have done this earlier and saved a few more minutes. Anyway, we finally made it inside the park before time. R ran amok inside and although I was holding his hand, it was he who was dragging me along and deciding where to go. He kept saying "anga" , "anga" and made me run behind him. There was a rocky slope, atop which there was this Kempegowda monument-a temple-like structure. This fella, ran all the way up and down the slope with my poor mom trudging along behind and me holding on to the brat's hand tightly. Where were the other men folk..well, they went in search of the restroom. Convenient. Hmpf!

We just had about half an hour to admire the well-maintained garden, manage R who was scampering away in all the directions we didn't want him to go and also click some snaps for remembrance. It suddenly grew dark and we heard a booming voice asking us to vacate the place soon. No, the booming voice was not God's but some in-duty officer's, doing the final rounds of the park before closing time. We promptly retracted our steps from wherever we were to head towards the exit. Most people stayed on and seemed as though they never heard the voice. No wonder then that although the said limit is at 7.30 p.m., the patrol jeep starts making the rounds from 6.30 onwards. It takes time to shoo away people. Nevertheless, we had a lovely evening. Short but sweet.

Parents left on Monday afternoon, leaving a cranky R and me feeling more blue than I have ever on Mondays. We went to see them off down the building and R hollered, wanting to go along. It took my undivided attention to distract him and calm him down which, to my relief, happened fairly soon, although from time to time he kept saying, "tatha? pati?..B'bay..auto".

A long post indeed. Leaving you with some pics of the evening at Lalbaugh.

Hubby, R and my mom

Sunset

The Kempe-gowda structure atop the rocky slope where R chose to run up and down

The hunt begins- a weekend update I

2011-09-20T15:31:00.002+05:30

Saturday morning, our friend-couple, whose kid is as old as R, called up to ask if we were interested in joining them to check out a particular pre-school for R. We left around mid-morning, leaving R who was sleeping then in the company of his grandparents. We were confident that he would not miss us. I left without the preoccupying thought of "what about lunch? when and what to cook" as my mom took the reins of the kitchen that day to give me a break. Lovely mothers!

The school- the play home is affiliated to the main school that runs on the principles of a renowned spiritual guru- was located away from the main road which was a plus. The courtyard, unlike most others that are housed in a house bang on the main road, was fairly big with a small play area for the kids. The lady who attended us briefed us about the activities conducted, fee structure and also addressed our queries. The place in itself was pleasant, although it seemed bereft of the modern amenities that the others boast of. And I am not talking of air-conditioned rooms or fancy equipments. I am against sending my child to any such environment that encourages an attitude of "nose-high-up-in-the-air". Of the total three rooms, one was for the pre-schoolers (PS) and the other two for the pre-primary (PP)(i.e. from nursery to UKG) children. The one room meant for the PS had an old cupboard that stored some craft and sundry items and a few low wooden desks- the ones that are used for written work while sitting on the floor. I do not mind having PS kids sitting on the floor, but in that case I expect the floor to be smooth and the flooring that does not get cold in monsoon and winters. Sadly, that was not the case here. The flooring was like those kadappa stones (again am not sure, am not an expert in this area) and also slightly unevenly laid out in certain places. Another major drawback, that actually put me off too, was the toilets. They were Indian toilets located outside of the rooms at the backyard. The first thought was how will they manage the kids in the monsoon when it will be all wet and slippery. Also, it meant that the kids would be expected to be already toilet-trained in the first place. Thirdly, the basins had those brown stains that come with years of usage and did not look new to me. I already have a critical eye and in case of hygiene matters, again especially that which concerns kids, I can turn extra critical. So, this is what I meant when I said the place seemed primitive. I suddenly felt the burden of selecting the correct school, even if it meant "only" a playschool" for R weighing heavily on my shoulders. The multiple factors that play a role in zeroing on "the one", the sheer range of choices available today only makes the task much more difficult than it ever was before. The constant quest to achieve that perfect blend seems like the elusive mirage of water in a desert.

Although the play school was a let down, we decided to check out the main school which was the main reason for our initial inclination towards it in the first place. The school in itself seemed good, in the lap of nature, with plenty of open space and play ground. However the distance was daunting. It felt as though we were going on an excursion trip. What use of a great school if the child has to travel miles to reach it and get tired and cranky at the end of it. Uff! So many factors to consider- the location, the distance from home, the schooling board, the teaching methods, the amenities, the cost. It is just the beginning and am already lost.

This is no easy task and it is going to take us a couple of more weekends to exhaust the plethora of playschools around our area. We came home with such thoughts playing in my head to find R not in the least bothered by our absence. He had had his bath, breakfast and was busy playing. Wow! the luxury of having grand parents around. This was supposed to be a weekend update, but considering the length of the post already, I have decided to cut it here and continue the remaining in the next part.

R-The enchanter

2011-09-16T13:57:00.000+05:30

R is honing his skills of being an enchanter. Whenever I scold him for making mischief, he gives me a impish smile, hugs me and showers me with kisses! Now, how can you push him away when he is at his charming best.

He has begun to speak well in two/three word phrases . He knows when to use what word. "Peesh taa", "mum taa", "phone taa, peeesh taa" in a sweet and convincing tone will make anyone give him all that he asks for.

Some catchwords are always bi-lingual, like: "Niya-moon", "menkam-cowsh", "dain dain-mai". Do you understand these? (Nila-moon, megham-clouds, rain,rain-mazhai)

Below is a funny conversation between pati and R:

Pati: say Parvati

R: patutaati

Pati: say nail cutter

R: naikku katter

Pati: say Hanumaan

R: Hamumaan

Pati: say Chai patti

R: chaiba patti

He calls out sweetly to the concerned person and says, "va va, come come, oka".
He has become very close to my mother, to the extent that if he needs something, he goes directly to her. If she's not seen around for a while, he calls out to her. Hmpf! What am I going to do when they leave?

His energy levels are peaking by the day. He is getting quite boisterous and adventurous in his ways. The fear of falling down and getting hurt does not really bother him. It seems as though that part is never his concern.

Caught speaking over the phone: "umm..umm..ok. right, papom, ok bye"
Note: the brat holds the phone in one hand and walks around the house talking to some imaginary person.

***********

What's up?

2011-09-14T12:55:00.000+05:30

After a blogomanic month of August, only two post so far in September seems like a low. Well, I am alive and kicking. No one asked though, but I thought I can dispense with this information. An update of last week/weekend should explain my absence from the blogosphere.

Two days after my return from a vacation to Hyderabad, my parents arrived. Not unannounced of course :-) I was awaiting their arrival for awhile now and that too with an eagerness of a child awaiting his/her coveted gift. Needless to say that I am enjoying myself, not to mention R who continues to get pampered, and is now actually showing signs of becoming a spoilt brat.

While on the note of R and his grandparents being around, we are witnessing a good deal of change in him. He is definitely getting naughtier and more stubborn by the day. A foreboding of having to deal with the inevitable terrible twos is clouding my senses. The change isn't quite sudden and dramatic as I put it but this particular incident has definitely set alarm bells ringing, loud enough to startle the person next to me, in my head. Now, we parents are of those kinds who do not really indulge in buying too many toys for the little brat. We do not mind spending money on any amount of books but toys come home at a lower frequency rate. We have also never experienced any tantrums in a toy shop so far when we would at times have to say no to R's demands. Distracting him has also been not too difficult. So, this incident left me perplexed, nudged me out of my utopian reverie where kids who throw a fit in a store are always someone else's and landed me in a this-cannot-happen-to-me moment. (this is not to be confused with putting-on-an-air of perfect parenting.)

Coming to the incident: ever since the time my parents came home, there has been some talks of my mother wanting to buy a tricycle or the likes for R. The other day, my parents, R and I went to buy some groceries at a near by store. The store also stocks other items like toys and other fancy stuff. While we were busy checking out a few things, R found a ride-a-car toy and promptly mounted on that. What was surprising was that he did not call out to me, instead he called out for pati and said, "Pati, car..car..". Kids!!! The said toy seemed a little old, dusty and not worth the price tag. Also, there was no other fresh stock available. So, I tried to distract him by saying he'll get one the next day (one that usually works). But not this time. He bawled, rolled on the ground to my horror. As I dragged him away, my mother, the doting pati, said she'll probably buy some other toy/book to mollify R. I was still recovering from the initial shock of dealing with my first public toddler meltdown, so acquiesced. R went next to the toys counter and pulled out three toys and insisted on playing with all of them on the shop floor. We managed to put back all but one toy onto the rack. R held on to the one toy with all his might and didn't let go of it even at the time of billing, much to the cashier's amusement and my embarrassment. Not sure, if this is temporary or clear symptoms of the onset of the terrible twos.
Hmm..will wield the stick later. Now it's time for some grandparent time and of course carrots.

It has been celebration time for a couple of days now. Our apartment complex celebrated Onam, as other festivals alike, with great grandeur. Since the festival fell on a weekday, the cultural fest was held on Sunday. The festivities that included rangoli (pookalam) competition for the adults, drawing competition for the children, cultural programs that saw adults and children perform with equal elan and grace, culminated in a grand Onam feast. Traditional dance numbers, peppy and melodious Malayalam solo songs, group songs, all together interspersed with a quiz session on Kerala and Onam made the event enjoyable even for the non-mallus.

I entered the second year on the wrong side of the 30s a couple of days ago. B'day celebration is generally in the form of a lunch/dinner at a restaurant. This time, hubby presented the idea of a couple dinner minus the kid since my parents were around. The idea appealed to me since it was quite sometime since we got some time for ourselves and my parents too agreed immediately to the proposition. So, thanks to them, we, the hubby and me, ended up having a nice time actually having a proper conversation (after what seems like ages) over good food and ambience. Cheers!

So, guys, I am back!

Some advice for young girls

2011-09-06T11:16:00.000+05:30

A disclaimer: OK, I am not dying. I have also NOT suddenly grown old enough to be a grandmother to dole out advises. It's just one of those days when I don on the thinking cap. Again, it does not necessarily mean I am talking out of "sour grapes" experience. I have no regrets from my current social position. This post is more of the food for thought kind. Phew! have I made myself clear?

Marriage and then motherhood is considered as the final goal in a girl's life, at least in India. Interestingly, anyone who has crossed these stages know in their hearts that there is certainly more to life than just getting married and having kids. But very few may voice this openly much less admit it to themselves for the fear of being judged. I am certainly no saint or a wise one for else I would have done differently. And I am not vainly under impression that my rants will be read and more absurdly even taken as a piece of advice. But again, it is my blog and it is meant for my rants. So, after ample prologues, if you wish to read further, here you go:

Marriage and parenthood are just a step (major? maybe, but surely not the last) in the journey of life, hence should not be viewed as the ultimate and only goal or destination. Both come with their share of responsibilities and a huge change in the rhythm of the current lifestyle. Unfulfilled desires and unaddressed emotions come out in the raw when you are dealing with yourself and a new person(s) in your life on your own. The need to take stock becomes necessary then and a certain level of maturity in sorting out priorities is required. Much like the rearranging of a closet, where old and redundant things have to be cleared to make space for newer ones. One needs to be prepared to let go.

Since, these two are such life-altering decisions, in my opinion, a few listed below are some must things to do .

Before you get married:

1.Travel. As much and as wide as you can. Take solo trips or group with friends or even strangers. Tour the country and if possible outside the country.

2.Work. Take up a part time or full time job. Anything that interests you. Need not be always a 9-5 job. In fact preferably in the area of your interest. This is the time to explore. Don't let people bother you with questions like, oh! but what are you doing in this job? "but how will you find "good" guys?"

3.Stay independently. Get out of your parent's home and try to live independently. See what goes into maintaining and managing a home and a life on your own. A lot of things are taken for granted when one is at the parent's house. Also, it gives you the space and chance to carve a distinct personality and attitude that is not a default or inherited one.

4.Dream. And dream of fulfilling those on your own and not linking it to someone or something else in life. It is OK if they don't materialize but at least it will be on your own accord. You will not attribute it falsely to others.

5.Take up or pursue a hobby. Do something for yourself. Discover what makes you truly happy.

6.Take time to spend time with your would-be for a few months before tying the knot. The courtship days are important not just for the romance. It helps to identify possible thorns and possibly avert further follies.

Before you have kids:

1.Spend enough time (in years) with husband. Get to know each other better.

2.Repeat point one under 'before marriage' above with spouse.

3.Do NOT fall into the trap of "oh! I am getting older. Oh! all my friends have a kid(s). Oh! what people will say". Take into consideration the biological clock by all means but do not stress yourself unduly about it. And regarding others and friends having kids, well, it is you and not they who have to bring the kid up. So take stock.

4.Prepare yourself physically, financially and mentally for the kid. Although the last part can never done enough. When the kid comes along you will always feel you were not mentally prepared enough. But the other two can be done.

5.Understand that a kid is fun. But that is last. It is first a LOT of hardwork. It is demanding of your time, space, strength, energy, patience. If you can spare all of these in aplenty with even an added smile for bonus then you can consider yourself one lucky woman and your child luckier.

This is definitely not an exhaustive list, I know. What I am trying to convey is that a wider exposure to life in general is needed to take an informed decision on these two important stages in one's life. So, what's your take on this?

Kahan gaye woh din...

2011-09-03T21:42:00.000+05:30

My vacation is drawing to a close. Having a lot of time on hand and at a place where you lived a while ago, conjures up old memories and this stay has had me reminiscing about those days. It was not so long ago...

-when we were newly married and living in our first house in Hyd. Home was just a 10 minute walk from hubby's office. We would get up at 7.30 a.m. and still have a leisurely breakfast before hubby left for office at 9.30, post which I would start preparing lunch. I had never cooked a full meal (actually hardly entered the kitchen ;-)) before marriage, so in the initial days of marriage, it would take me a full 2 hours to cook up a menu as as simple as Sambhar, rice and a curry. Nevertheless, I would finish all the chores before hubby came home for lunch (yes life was that luxurious at one time). Post lunch hour, I would catch up sometime on the internet, read some books, sleep and before I would realize, it would be time for hubby to come home.

-Everyday for about three months that we took to set up our home, we would explore the market area to shop for our various needs. It was funny how we would buy several sets of containers to stock groceries in installments from the same shop. Neither of us had any idea how many containers we would require at the first go. We would always forget to buy something and go back a couple of days later to discover a different variety at the shop replacing the ones we bought. As a result, I have a hotch-potch of various shapes and sizes of containers.

-Almost every weekend for the first few months of marriage we would eat outside. Evenings on every other weekend would be spent at Hussain Sagar lake or at some mall catching up on some new movie release. Hyderabad is famous for several art exhibition that keep coming up every few months. I love visiting such exhibitions and we have spent a good amount of time doing so.

-We had to shift residence 'cause hubby switched jobs and the new company was located far off from where we stayed earlier. We moved closer to his new workplace but the luxury of coming home for lunch was no longer there. But by then I started work outside home, so it was compensated in a sort of way. This was a new and exciting phase in its own way. We would leave for work together. We didn't own a car at that time, so travelled by shared-rickshaws* and shared cabs*. After office hours too, we would meet at a common point and then travel back home together.

-Living closer to your work place and staying in a city like Hyderabad has its benefits. Even after coming back from a long day at work, we still had time to unwind ourselves, catching up on each other day at work and watching the odd program on T.V.

This was life in Hyderabad and most importantly before R came into our lives.
Almost everything has changed now. And changed so much that all this has become nostalgia.

*Travel by autorickshaws or shared autos in Hyderabad calls for a separate post. :-)

Hyderabad tales-II

2011-08-31T22:39:00.002+05:30

Part one here

-Kollu pati, fondly called as ko-pati by her great grandchildren, is pampering R with home-made tengoyal, seedai, vadams,etc.

-R is only too happy to lap up all the extra attention of his doting chitti-pati and chitappa-tatha too.

-The neighbours too seem to want to indulge R. R has found a new found interest in the ancient lift that functions at the aunt's. The grilled doors that close with great difficulty, that groans at every halt and starts and stops with a great jolt is a big hit with R. He wants to keep travelling up and down in it, much to the amusement of the neighbours who are willing to accompany him in his adventure. He being a friendly kid has only won him more friends, all of whom are maamis, akkas and annas.

-One flat here is also a home for two big fat hens (big can hen as R calls them). So, another added attraction for R. He got up one afternoon saying cuk-cuk-kozhi and insisted on visiting them at that very instant.

-What is R's amma doing? Enjoying the break from cooking and cleaning, eating awesome food prepared by her chitti and of course the ko-pati special goodies meant for R; getting pampered in general.

-No dearth of goodies as we celebrate the birthday of the elephant god. Needless to add that I am going to enjoy a sweat-free feast, err..festival.
Wishing you all a happy Ganesh Chaturthi!

B'lore to Hyd

2011-08-28T10:02:00.002+05:30

-We reached Bangalore Airport just in time for boarding, courtesy - the cab we booked turned up 20 mins late. We checked in our luggage and waited for the security check in the queue. Usually, the line for the ladies is longer and takes time. But this time, I came out with R much faster to see hubby still stuck. He was the third person in the queue. Then as the queue moved forward, I realized that the queue he was in was just to place the cabin luggage on the scanner trail. There was another huge line beside this one for the actual security screening. Just then, a flight attendant came up to announce that the boarding call for our flight was nearly over and any passengers left out must hurry. I frantically waved out to hubby and conveyed him to hurry. I was simultaneously managing R who was amused by the scene and insisted on getting across the security counter from the wrong side! Hubby requested the guy in the front to let him go first. From the man's gestures one could understand that he was not willing to let the hubby ahead of him. I was furious, how can anybody not have a slight consideration for the other's plight! Hubby said something else to him and then the man let him. It seems the man had thought that hubby wanted to jump the queue because I was unable to manage R on my own and wanted him to come fast. How people just jump to conclusions!

-After collecting the cabin luggage, we rushed to the gate and boarded the airbus. We were among the last three to board the flight.

-Had a pleasant flight and were welcomed with awesome weather at Hyderabad.

-As we proceeded to the Aero-express bus stand, I saw a young girl waiting with a bouquet and an air of anticipation; smile and excitement lit up her face as soon as she saw someone, possibly her husband/boyfriend/fiance, walk up to her, the delight on his face matching hers. It was a cute sight, as they broke into a warm and quick hug.

-The next bus to our destination was at least 45 minutes later. So, we took a stroll around the bus stand where we found a crowd collected. It was a film shooting. All excited, I started to look for some familiar and popular face. Hubby remarked that he spotted a tamil comedian dressed up in khaki clothes. And then, the hero came - Karthi, of the Paiya fame. Found out that the shooting was for a movie named "Shakuni". The scene lasted for a whole of 10 mins, okay-ed at take 2. The hero had to shake up the comedian and give a one-line dialogue. I kept wondering how these actors must be mouthing several lines of dialogues with curious strangers peering around. What about the romantic scenes? So difficult to maintain a straight face if it were a serious emotional scene. Good thing 'am not an actor. Not a career for self-conscious people I guess. I managed to take a few long shots of the hero..:-).(didn't bring the camera cable, hence photos cannot be uploaded immediately. If interested, do check out this space later. I'll be posting the pics once I am back from the vacation.)

-Being pampered at aunt's place. R took exactly half an hour to get used to them and by evening he was his usual naughty self.

Signing off for now...
ETA: The pics as promised

Hubby and R watching from afar

R at 21 months

2011-08-27T15:39:00.000+05:30

-R has begun to play imaginary games. He takes a cup and a spoon and feeds me imaginary "echam mammu" and "cham mammu".

-He is a very "fair child", meaning, if he plants a kiss on appa's cheek or hugs him, he'll immediately look for amma to balance the score.

-His vocabulary is growing by leaps and bounds by the day. He loves repeating the names of familiar objects to himself or to me as though to memorize or revise. While chanting those names, he'll pause and say, "apam, beya".(for apram, vera enna..meaning, "what else")

-The bed-time routine of brushing the teeth, changing into bedtime clothes and rocking him to sleep has been taken over by hubby a while ago. But R needs his blanky at any cost without which he refuses to sleep. This, he has been inspired by the sesame street "Nighty-Night book". Hubby would invariably forget the blanky and start to rock him, when R will remind him. So, hubby would call out to me to give it. These days, R has taken over that duty and as soon as hubby starts to rock him, R will call out my name and ~~ask~~ demand for the blanky!

-The throwing of things phase continues :-(. Thankfully, things do not go out of the windows these days.

-He loves watching songs over the computer. He calls them "daanchu paatu". He seems to have an ear for music and likes melodious ones. But, he doesn't like still pictures and hence cannot stomach too much of carnatic classical. Although he listens, after a while he'll start to squirm and demand "daanchu paatu". His favourite is this and this. A smile lights up his face whenever he listens to these.

-The other day, my mother called up and after talking to her, I handed over the phone to R. R amazed me and her by actually conversing with her. He waited for her to speak and he replied to her questions in turn. He also humoured her by saying a rhyme! Needless to say, the grandmother went gaga over him.

A tale of two cities

2011-08-25T16:56:00.001+05:30

Hubby has a workshop to attend that is arranged by his company at the Hyderabad office next week. The workshop is for a week and he suggested that R and I join him so that we (R and I) can enjoy a mini-vacation at my maternal aunt's place who lives there. It's been a year since we left our home of 3 years at Hyderabad to move to Bangalore. I agreed immediately as I saw this as a perfect opportunity to spend some time with my family also revisit the city I first encountered as a new-bride.

After spending all my life in Mumbai, Hyderabad was the first other city I was to experience post-marriage. I was always open to the idea of settling outside Mumbai (with the exception of Chennai of course :-) People who know me or read my blog already know that) contrary to the popular belief that Mumbaikers find it difficult to adjust to any other city. Life in Mumbai is definitely way different from one in Hyderabad. There was no doubt about that. But having lived in one place all life, I was also longing to explore something different. Also, they city was not entirely new to me. I had had a few glimpses of the city beforehand during my visits to my aunt's. Of course a trailer is way different from the movie that plays. Here's a gist of what I experienced in both these cities.

Mumbai has a charm that holds several pieces together like a magnet. There is something about the city that envelopes everyone around into its arms and makes them feel like it is where they belong. Like a colourful painting where each figure has a meaning yet is only a part of the larger picture, the city lets you hold a separate identity yet doesn't let you feel out of place. In the daily life, the neighbours mind their own business but when the need arises even a stranger is ready to help you out. The local kirana guy knows you and doesn't mind the odd balance of money owed to him. Says, "chalega madam, kal dedijiye". A phone call to place a home-delivery-order for just a packet of bread at 7.a.m. is not ticked off, instead responded to promptly, even prompting us to place an order for things that might have skipped our sleepy minds. You can dare to go to a saree shop, toss 2 dozen sarees for an hour and step out of shop without buying any and yet not subject yourself to the wrath of the shopkeeper. All they have to say to indecisive buyers like us is," dekh lijiye, dekhne mein thodi paisa jata hain. Nahin pasand aya toh koi vanda nahin." On the flip-side, the city is over-crowded, travelling is a harrowing experience for both the seasoned and the new commuters and the weather can cause misery to many.

Hyderabad, I found, was in stark contrast to Mumbai in many aspects. While Mumbai's briskness could nudge the laziest person into working, Hyderabad could easily frustrate anyone who wished to work or get some work done. "kal aa jaata ma" is the standard reply you would get from the plumber, carpenter, electrician or the cable guy. And any one who has lived long enough in Hyderabad would know that "kal" never really means tomorrow. Kiranas never open before 11.a.m. and there is no concept of a home delivery for single items. If you think too much in a saree or dress-material boutique, the attendant may well lose his interest in you. However the city does have its fair share of pluses: spacious houses. I was floored by the sheer space to move about in both the houses we lived in during our stint. It is possible to live closer to your work place and not burn a hole in your pocket in terms of rent. That way you get to spend quality and quantity time with family after work too. Entertainment also comes cheap. You can watch a movie in a plush multiplex for a premium of just Rs.100.

For the time I spent in Hyderabad, I oscillated between the feelings of like and dislike for the city. While, I enjoyed the extra time and space, I missed the vibrancy and cosmopolitan outlook of Mumbai. It was like a give-and-take deal. But as it is with people, once you move away from a city or a person, you're able to reminisce with more fondness.

Teacher's pet, is that you?

2011-08-23T13:44:00.000+05:30

Image courtesy: google.com

Teachers and students share a very peculiar relationship. I am not sure if it is an universal scenario- and I hope even if it is, it would change- but I have seen teachers at school play the favouritism game with students. If the student is good at studies or excels at sports or is a crowd-puller at cultural fests or is a combination of all the above, he/she is bound to get a special treatment from the teachers. Have you known someone who is weak in studies and who is not particularly good in the limited extra-curricular arena that he/she is exposed to in school being a favourite with the teachers? It is also probably human tendency to be attracted to someone or something that is pleasant or perfect at least in the superficial context. But shouldn't teachers behave differently? After all they are entrusted with the enormous duty of molding the future generation. Apart from imparting education and values, it is also impertinent that they instil self-esteem and self-confidence in a child.

I was a shy and timid girl in my childhood, at least upto my pre-teens. I rarely spoke up in school and would clam up when the teacher would ask me a question even if I knew the answer. I doubt if any teacher would have recognized me outside the classroom. Then something changed in secondary school, when I was in class 8. There were announcements of a singing competition to be held and names were requested of those who would be interested. It took a lot of courage on my part to give my name for the very thought of singing in front of about 500 students made my feet and hands go cold. But I went ahead and gave a decent performance too. I didn't win the competition that year. But a lot changed after that. Teachers who never knew I existed, for whom I was just another average student in a class of 60, took notice of me. Suddenly I had a distinct face and a name that would instantly come to the mind when one sees it. It was like magic and the magic worked both ways. I began to shed the shell of shyness around me and made conscious efforts to speak up and made sure I got noticed. This change was gradual and perhaps there were other factors too that led to the persona change in me but the acceptance and validation in the maze of other equally talented bunch of peers made a huge difference.

Every average person knows how important it is to feel accepted and being told to that someone is proud of him/her and sees potential in him/her. And a person who has remained an underdog knows it even more. What about the scores of little minds that go unnoticed? what about undiscovered talents that do not come under the common league of sports, dancing and singing and of course academics? Every child has a unique talent within that needs to be discovered and nurtured. Valuing oneself is an important lesson that is sadly not taught at schools. Having a sense of self-worth is akin to having oxygen to breathe. It is easy and only natural to promote and encourage kids that are already excelling but it is important to create an atmosphere where every kid is encouraged to hold his/her own. Teachers ought to shoulder part of this burden and maintain a neutral self with the students. It is not an easy task and such things might take a long time before the person himself recognizes and responds to his/her true calling in life.

Contemplating a move to Wordpress

2011-08-21T21:10:00.000+05:30

Blogger is being difficult these days. Each day at least one of the widgets does not function well. The post updates of my favourite bloggers come many hours later than the update. Probably, it is the same in case of my updates. Some people complain of being unable to comment on my posts. Since, for me, my blog is a way of communicating and interacting with others (apart from giving me the perfect platform to air my views and express myself)reading and commenting forms a critical aspect- one I do not wish to compromise upon. From what I read over the blogosphere I understand that I am not the only one facing troubles with Blogger. So, I felt maybe it's time that I too made that shift to Wordpress.

But, as I began to set up my blog on Wordpress, I found that Blogger is actually more user friendly. The themes are very flexible unlike Wordpress where there the themes are quite rigid vis-a-vis widgets and menus. The features in Wordpress are confusing and the design and settings can be quite overwhelming without the instant-preview option. Funnily enough, the moving of posts from Blogger to Wordpress is the easiest. Last but not the least, Wordpress doesn't support the vanity-fueling "Followers" widget.:-)

After some labour, I did manage to set up the basic stuff however the site is still private and I am yet to make the official move. A weird feeling of leaving familiar grounds to set foot in a foreign land has engulfed me and I am having second thoughts on moving. It feels as though I would be cutting ties with old friends. Funny, I know. But it will help me decide if you guys give me your opinion and suggestions.

Conflict

2011-08-17T11:30:00.005+05:30

Two minds, two stances
two bodies, two poses
Two hearts bound to clash
like waves that ashore splash
Each wait for the other
to break the steely stupor

The cloud thick in-between
rises in anticipation
blurring reason and vision
You ask for the wind
to pour out the rain
and to melt the cloud of pain

With a kind word to embrace
playing a song of love on the lips
Falling as drops of truce
asking for forgiveness true
calming fluttering minds to align
restoring lost hope and shine

Image courtesy: google.com

Ours or mine?

2011-08-15T11:56:00.001+05:30

Whenever R and I pass via our parking lot, I point out to our car and say "namma car".

Today while we were passing by, R looked at the car and said:

"yaar car?" (to himself)..
"Ichab car" (replies immediately without waiting for an answer from me)

Amma: !!! *thinks* Already!! Sigh!!

Women power

2011-08-12T15:54:00.003+05:30

I am amazed at the number of hits my post on Band Baaja Bride - a show on NDTV Goodtimes gets on any single day. This post is forever on the popular posts chart. The readers mostly stumble upon it via google while searching for information about the show and the way to participate in it. Sorry guys for being misled to my page. I am not even remotely connected to the channel, else would have provided more help.

I am just a regular fan of this channel- NDTV Goodtimes. It is a far cry from the other saas-bahu channels where a single issue is beaten to death by 50 shows with similar takes on the topic. An interesting feature I have noticed about this channel is the number of shows hosted, produced, written and directed by women. Most of the travel shows are some examples of this. I get the euphoric feeling just to see stereotypes broken when I watch cookery shows hosted by enthusiastic men and adventure shows spear headed by a female.

So, three cheers to women power and also to my 50th Post!!!

Image courtesy: google.com

Pay cut

2011-08-10T10:50:00.000+05:30

Do you cut your maid's salary if she does not show up for work? If yes, what is the leeway you allow?
How many days of paid leave does she get in a month?
Do you also cut her pay if you go on a vacation?

Recently my maid complained to me about my neighbour who cut her pay because the neighbour went on a vacation and she saw no reason to pay the maid because there was no work. To me, it struck as meanness. I mean if you were working in an organization and you had to forgo your wages for even public holidays how would it feel? And such labourers do not even get benefits like a medical insurance or provident fund or pension. In that sense, they are far less privileged.

She is a reliable and efficient maid. I have generally been lucky in this matter so far. Touchwood. She seldom remains absent from work although she had mentioned about her 2 days per month off condition before joining work. I had no problems with this condition provided she gave me prior notice. Of that she has remained good to her word. I.e. she gives me ample prior notice and also she does not remain absent just to claim her 2 day off in a month. I am really thankful for her sincerity.

I believe in giving a freehand to my maids. I give them all the instructions right at the beginning of their employment and supervise discreetly for a few days later. If found satisfactory, I do not hover around daily to prompt them in their daily duties. I suck at such supervision. It makes me uncomfortable and fear it would make the other person too. Anything amiss is pointed out the next day with a gentle reminder and again I back off. Again, my maids have been faithful and probably also grateful for this gesture.

When it comes to cutting the wages, I generally do not resort to it unless the leave has been too long or very frequent and/or the quality of work has been compromised far too often. I strongly believe and this belief comes from the practice that is followed at my parents' home too that the people working for us need to be treated with more respect and consideration than is generally meted out to them. After all they come from a lower strata of the society and depend on our wages to run their household, their kids' education, etc. They are far less fortunate in terms of material worth than we are. Cutting pay for something beyond their control would be the meanest way to get even with them. Of course, there are counterpoints that present age maids cannot be relied on, they are in fact better off than they actually pretend to be, they resort to cutting corners on a sly, so on and forth. While there is an amount of truth to each of these points, the penalization should be used judiciously and not on absolute terms.

And on a lighter note, isn't it prudent to cut ego than wages especially when good and reliable maids are becoming endangered species at a rate faster than the tigers or maybe the girl-child (I am being mean here) in India?

A different weekend- breaking the mould

2011-08-07T22:55:00.001+05:30

I generally do not post an update about a weekend spent because they pretty much follow a typical pattern. Half or more than that of Saturday goes about ticking off some mundane checklist related to home stuff. The next half and part of Sunday is spent meeting either set of friends and the remaining part is spent wondering and moping about where the weekend went and dealing with Monday blues. Actually Monday blues hit me even before Sunday ends. It has always been so, whether I was working or not. I am happiest on Friday night, with the merry feeling making a descending curve as the weekend ~~passes~~ flies.

So, what was different was this weekend? For starters, I wasn't looking forward to it at all. Hubby was going to be out of town for both the days. After sulking over the arrangement for a while, I just decided to get through with it for anyway my sulking wouldn't change anything. Hubby left on Friday night and that night was the toughest in terms of putting R to sleep. Although I kept mentioning to him about Hubby's trip in a way of preparing him for the husband's absence, he probably was at unease and just didn't sleep for over an hour of however patiently and painstaking I rocked him. I just collected enough wits to keep myself from screaming in frustration. I myself had a disturbed sleep with R getting up a couple of times in between.

However, things brightened up the next day and also something happened that had never happened before. I baked a cake!!!
R had finished his quota of nap in the morning which meant I had to forego my afternoon siesta. Since I would have nothing better to do, I thought I might as well make use of the eggs that had been lying for a week in the fridge. I had been contemplating baking a cake for quite a while, stacking up the ingredients in piecemeal. It was like preparing for an exam. I had always broached the subject of cooking as one would probably a History or an Economics -- only enough to pass. Baking was like doing a Masters in cooking, so quite out of my league. But having friends who cooked up non-regular dishes with passion and panache had probably somewhere deep down sowed the desire to break this mental block someday. So, with all the necessary ingredients, I scouted the net for a recipe that suited my requirements which is when I realized I lacked the basic equipments like a whisk or egg beater and even a proper microwave cake bowl. But I also knew that if I didn't use this time, it might be long before I again gathered the ingredients and the interest to bake. So, I decided to substitute the deficient with an electric blender and use the cooker to bake.

Thus, with the recipe in hand, I proceeded with the preparation. With the dry ingredients sieved, I started to beat the eggs and the butter but mid-way I was suddenly taken over by a overwhelming feeling of having been caught in a cannot-get-out-without-completing kinda panicky situation. The whisking and beating needed persistence and loads of cool-headedness. R was making a total nuisance by reaching out to every damm thing on the platform and opening all the cabinets and basically getting between my feet and the platform. So, keeping a cool head seemed a distant probability. I decided to use the electric blender I had- not exactly the kind you would use for such things. Nevertheless, it would hasten the process I thought. And viola! it did the job in a jiffy, albeit with a messiness I would have liked to avoid. But as you know, beggars cannot be choosers. So, I counted my blessings and went to the next level of mixing the dry and wet ingredients. From hereon, the process seemed to get simpler and I heaved a sigh of relief. The batter had to be beat thoroughly well. It was exhausting but since the product seemed like it would work, my spirits were high. Phew! it was time for the final part, that of baking and the waiting!

The cake turned out quite OK. It was spongy and soft. The only flaw was I forgot to add vanilla essence, hence there was a hint of the smell of the eggs and also maybe I could have baked it for a little longer- one part of the cake seemed a little raw and also perhaps to get a light crusty layer at the bottom. But other than these, I would say I passed with decent marks :-)

I leave you with an image of my efforts. I took the photo after I cut the cake into pieces. Let me warn you, it's not a very flattering one.

Wishing you all a Happy Friendships Day!!!

I recommend this book

2011-08-05T11:42:00.001+05:30

Do books give you a hangover? I mean you read a book and then you dream of the characters in the book. It happens to me and when it happens I can safely say that the book in question has made a mark in my heart.

The Palace Of Illusions was one such book that I read in just four days flat. Well, bookworms may scorn at me for being vain for nothing but since I have known my recent history of reading books, for me it's a BIG and GOOD feeling.

I liked the book for the breezy narration and a different outlook it has given to the entire Mahabharata epic. The story unfolds in parts as dreams, stories and musings of Draupadi-the narrator of the story. The writer-Chitra Banerjee Divakaruni- has woven fiction and truth into an engaging novel. The women in this great Epic are brought out in a stronger light and we get to see a modern-age Draupadi baring her heart and soul through her narration.

Housework for the man

2011-08-01T12:17:00.003+05:30

ETA: This post has been picked up by Blogadda as one of the top posts for the Tuesday Tangy Picks. Thank you BlogAdda!!!

We often hear women complain that the men in the house do not chip in with the household work because they are either mostly inept at it or they simply refuse to do something that they think is the women's prerogative. Just want to add a disclaimer here that this post also does not intend to generalize the situation and suggests to say that men have to pitch in with housework even after they have slogged their butts off at work and come home dead tired. I just wish to draw attention to the general attitude that many men have towards doing housework.

A quick rewind to a couple of generations ago: when the roles played by a man and a woman were strictly defined and neither stepped into the others' shoes. The men rarely ever even realized what work the women did but the women never complained, in fact subscribed to the discrimination even, 'cause they never knew anything different.

Times changed with women getting educated and working out of homes to bring in a size-able income - at times more than the man. Unfortunately, this did not automatically result in her downloading some of her home duties towards the man. She is still expected to do most of, if not all, the work at home. Yes, there are a few men who wait for the wife to come home to a warm meal. However heartening it is to hear of such tales, it is far and few. Also, since she is not paid for it, there was (is) no quantification of the numerous tasks that involve in keeping the home well-oiled and running. To the extent that the men gloat over themselves for doing the lion's share of work outside home and also getting the moolah to keep the house running.

I feel the problem lies with the conditioning of the society, particularly in the upbringing of the man. The patriarchal nature of the society got so ingrained in the woman that it began to reflect in the way the future men of the society got raised. She, while not being used to have her husband participating in the household chores sub-consciously kept her sons away from the same work. A young boy who does not see his father chip in with the housework sees it as the way things are meant to be. To a large extent the woman is responsible for not bringing up a boy with the sensitivity that if he does the work around the house, it is not big of him to so so. He need not do it only when the woman is absent/incapable/unable/disabled. The basic etiquette to clear up a mess in the house, putting things at the place where they belong to, washing, cleaning and clearing after a meal, that is cultivated in a girl at a very early age is sadly not done for a boy. He is allowed to just sit in his place and call for the mother for water, food and other things. His plate after dinner is washed by someone else, he is not required to learn cooking and also understand what entails having a house in a ship-shape order.

The guy about to leave house for studies is given a quick crash course in the basics of cooking, not with the intention of teaching him the art but just as a temporary survival guide that can keep him alive till he can afford a maid or gets married. Once the maid or the wife arrives on the scene, whatever little housework he knew is quickly 'forgotten' and the man behaves as though he never stayed in a organized and structured home.

In a nuclear set-up, if the wife is working, they may have a maid or two to help around and the husband may then pitch in a bit. Yet, the major chunk is done by or is expected to be done by the wife. Arrival of kids on the scene makes it only more daunting for the woman for she now has the additional work of baby care. Here again, even though the child is equally of the father, the tedious tasks of cleaning up the child after the potty, bathing and feeding the child is largely shouldered by the mother. Some new age fathers are an exception, though.

When a child is old enough to understand instructions, he or she must be trained to pitch in with the chores starting with the ones that will make them independent and then slowly graduating to other age-appropriate chores around the house. Dignity of work must be instilled early on and there should be no demarcation of work gender-wise. The boy should be equally encouraged and if need be even coerced to cook and wash utensils. The need and desire to pursue a career should be fueled equally in a girl as in a boy. The choices they make later will then be informed ones and not the only ones they have been forced to adopt. If we as the present generation mothers start this change, maybe a more equal and balanced society will not remain a dream.

Why do I read? asks Simran

2011-07-29T14:53:00.001+05:30

Thanks Simran, for tagging me. The question probably should be more like, do you read now? And you pretty much listed most of the reasons that I would have given to the Y's of reading.

While I spent some time mulling over this question, I came to realize that my reading habit, for various reasons, has unfortunately taken a downward curve. I used to read quite a lot during my childhood years. So much so that I would have a book in hand while I ate. Even Balbharati English text books were OK. I guess I did read (although I do not come under the "voracious" category) until I started work. Here, apart from the occasional book while travelling to work, the curve started making a downward dip. Other preoccupations took priority until marriage. The graph started to look better with hubby's influence and I read some very good books, both fiction and non-fiction, around this time. The pregnancy months saw me read a lot of spiritual (haha, yes for good influence) and light-veined stuff. Post motherhood, barring a couple of unsuccessful attempts at reading, I didn't do any serious reading. Of course, that is if you discount reading baby center articles and blog articles on the net.

I graduated from reading Tinkles, Champak, Chandamama, Amar Chitra Katha to Enid Blyton to Agatha Christie, Sidney Sheldon to Jeffrey Archer and John Grisham. So, it is no big deal when you see these authors on my reading list to decipher that I am a fiction lover. I read the odd non-fiction if and when prompted by rave reviews from fellow book lovers. I have realized, by now, that the book reviews by certain magazines or the fact that they became bestsellers do not hold any water for me. Some such books, bought in such enthusiasm, are lying gathering dust after tedious reading of the first few chapters.

This is what makes me read a book: Abstract writing does not appeal to me. I like the writing to be breezy and crisp. One that instantaneously imports you to another era, time, space or world. Something that makes you actually live the story till the very end. An engaging plot that makes me forget myself and the mundane. I have sometimes even dreamed of the characters in the book that I would be currently reading. The blogs I read also should contribute to reading. I look for the style of writing and the content in any blog. Both must appeal to me. I like a satirical take on serious issues rather than a heavy-duty full length analysis of the same. A book or any article I read is either a form of escapism into an utopian world or to gather insights about a unknown territory or to have crazy laughs or to delve deep into solving a crime mystery or spend restless days over a thriller.

I started to read The Palace Of Illusions a couple of days ago and re-discovered the old passion when I wouldn't be able to put down a book easily. So much so that I kept away even from blogging.

Anybody reading this is most welcome to take up this tag - as a comment if non-blogger or as a blog-post if a blogger. People reading this blog and who haven't commented so far, here's your chance to de-lurk. In particular, would like to know the reading secrets of Purnima, Radhika, Tan and Namratha.

Girls night out

2011-07-26T13:38:00.001+05:30

It has been a complete year now that we are in Bangalore. The move from Hyderabad was a positive one right from the time we knew we were to shift here. Both hubby and me have our friends settled here and just knowing that we would be living close-by and meet them often was very comforting. Having familiar people around you in a new city helps you to warm towards the place.

As expected, we loved the city as soon as we settled in. Our social life was never better. Every weekend is spent meeting either my group of friends or hubby's. I gel well with his friends and their wives and the same can be said about hubby and my set of friends. This is an important factor without which it would have been difficult for either of us to maintain our individual friendships. All of us have kids around the same age which has also contributed to the entire bonding factor.

Last Friday my friends and I decided to have a girls time out and watch the movie ZNMD without the husbands and the kids. This was the first ever time we were to venture out leaving behind our kids with our hubbies to entertainment just ourselves. Needless to say, I was thrilled with the plan. I looked forward to things that I had stopped doing after R arrived on the scene. I was itching to leave behind the diaper bag that has become synonymous with me. For once, I didn't have to think what snacks to take along and how to keep R entertained. Oh! feeling was liberating.

So, the three families gathered at M's house after office hours and while the husbands decided to have their own share of fun together with the kids, M, A and I sneaked out to sniff the air of freedom (if I can use this word). The movie was a lighthearted one and we thoroughly enjoyed ourselves. Knowing that our kids will be fine with the husbands, there was no guilt factor too! Hmm..we need to do this often.

I am one down on my to-list that I made a couple of months ago. I am done with the driving lessons now and I take some time out on weekends to drive our car so that I get the confidence to drive on Bangalore roads. Of course this is done with hubby by my side and at a time when there is hardly any traffic. After a couple of weekends, I am now fairly confident, although there a few rough edges that needs to be smoothened. I drove for an hour each again this weekend and felt really proud of the feat. It does mean a lot to me that I can drive a four-wheeler for it means empowerment and independence.

I haven't been able to devote time for any novels post-motherhood. Yet, when I saw "The Palace of Illusions" by Chitra Banarjee Divakaruni on the bookshelf, I couldn't resist buying it. I have read some good reviews on a few blogs and thought I should read this. Maybe this time I can break the jinx of not having able to complete reading a book. Also picked up Charlie and the Chocolate Factory by Roald Dahl. Hopefully I get down to reading them sooooon.

So that was my weekend. Yeah, I am a little late in updating it. But as they say- better late than never. So, what did you guys do?

Beauty-full of woes

2011-07-20T11:17:00.001+05:30

Ma'm you have a lot of scars and pits on your face. Please take blah blah facial. That will also help reduce the dark circles and the tan.

Ma'm you have so many white and black heads!

Ma'm your feet are black. This colour nail polish will not suit you. This *taking out a horrendous pink colour one* will look nice.

No thanks. I have black feet, so please put on the one I have chosen.

No prizes for guessing where this conversation could have taken place. A place where ironically we go to feel and look better. By no standards can the above tete-a-tete lift someone's spirits. Let me add here that I do not particularly look forward going to the parlour even otherwise but, like many of my friends from the same clan may agree, I also cannot avoid it. I don't know if it happens to all but I get the feeling, each time, that I am a perfect candidate for all the beauty products (read improvement solutions) available . Yes, it could be a marketing strategy used on everyone to tap weaker souls who may end up getting all the treatments suggested. This could well be taken as a well-meaning comment. After all they are only helping you get that flawless fair-looking skin. I may be over-reacting by ranting out like this. But in a country so obsessed with fair and flawless beauty, looking good does become a narrower concept and one really cannot blame the lesser mortals if they do end up feeling victimized. So, what is the solution?

Avoid the particular parlour - and go to another where nothing is very different.

Avoid parlours altogether - As I said earlier, that is a necessary evil. I also see it as a much needed break from monotony to pamper myself.

Wallow in self-pity - oh! that I do often and it does not help. There has to be a better one.

Ignore such remarks and/or the attendant - by far the logical solution. But it is easier said than done. You want to burn their tongue with your eyes and maybe spit venom as a fitting reply. But again, it is not worth it. They need to be around to err..serve you. Besides, they may take revenge by threading your brows too thin or cutting your hair too short. You cannot take chances to survive such image-damaging accidents.

As an after thought I feel perhaps it is not the attendant's fault too. The art of sophistication comes in handy when the truth needs to be told. Don't you think when a person signs up for a beauty course, he or she also needs to be given a refresher on soft skills like communication. Most of the attendants are young people who are not by nature vile. They do not mean to be hurtful. They are just ignorant of a more ~~polished~~ diplomatic way of communication. But isn't this of prime importance given that they are dealing on a one-to-one basis with people, most of whom, lets say, have a lot of imperfections vis-a-vis vital body parts? The customers are conscious of it and definitely do not need to hear it explicitly especially at a place where they come probably to face their demons bravely.

Had we had it all perfect, we wouldn't be their customers in the first place, right?

Some rhymes

2011-07-18T16:55:00.000+05:30

Some rhymes by R. See if you find them familiar.

Tinku tinku tinku
taar
aika daimind
in de kai

Baba baba basheet
ai ai
esh shir esh shir
tee baash
master
ichab (the little boy is ichab u see)

One two shoe
tee pour shuttado
pie chix picka chiks
ay em chay
nine ten
big cat hen

Sleep drama

2011-07-14T17:22:00.000+05:30

R considers sleep as his biggest enemy. Right from birth. While babies all over the world slept for most part of the day and night, this boy would manage a total of about 11-12 hours on the whole, with the major block for the night. He never had his nights and days mixed up, so he pretty much had his clock wired like that of an adult. His naps during the day would last a whole 15 minutes.

While we have come a long way from those 'tiring and sleepless' times, R still maintains his 11-12 hour sleep schedule. Thank god for small mercies he hasn't slipped below that. He wakes up at 6.00 a.m. as soon as the alarm goes off. While I am inclined to snooze it and get some extra snuggle time, R is up and raring to go. I really long to sip my morning coffee in peace while R sleeps but this is very very rare.

I then harbour hopes on having my evening tea without R climbing all over me or without having to sip my tea in-between getting R his snacks or he climbing all over me and me gulping down the drink in haste. A lot of things has to fall in place before this happens. For starters since R is up by 6-6.30 in the morning he is usually sleepy by 10 or 10.30. If he sleeps then, then he skips his and forfeits my afternoon nap. I try to have my way and 'tell' him that amma is going to sleep and he is not going to do anything that will wake her up. I might as well say this to the walls. Toddlers do not understand such complex matters especially when it is not in their interests. This is a sample incident of what happens.

It is one such afternoon and as I slip away into a doze, I hear the tapping of the keyboard. I find the brat on the tip on his toes, hands lugging far behind at the keyboard and managing to bring it ahead with the tip of his fingers. Jubilant with success, he is furiously typing away. I jump to my feet and drag him away from the table. The keyboard is now placed farthest from the table edge as is possible and the mouse above the CPU. The CPU is incidentally elevated some notches higher from the original level by means of some old books, etc. Satisfied, I proceed to settle down to catch 40 winks. Barely have I rested my back when I realize my stupidity in leaving the chair as it is. The chair is now locked away in the other room. I then look around to check if there is anything else of importance, convinced that there is none now, I warily lie down and keep my ears open. The brat is silent and is playing with some books. I smile to myself and let my guards down. Sleep comes in a jiffy and I drift to wonderland. It could not be more than 2 minutes and I am rudely awakened by a gush of water on my face. Startled to wake up, I see R with a bottle of water all emptied - over me, himself and the bed.

If I am lucky, R gets up by 6.45 a.m. and I do not let him sleep at 10.30. We manage to push the time until 12 noon, when he takes his afternoon nap after lunch. These are the best days for I am ensured of my nap. I wait for my maid to leave, quickly finish lunch, check a few emails and settle down to catch an hour's sleep or so. I hope to wake up before R does. My coveted goal- to make and sip my evening chai before R wakes up..:-). It happens quite a few times but mostly it is this: I wake up to find R in deep slumber. I jump off the bed, dart straight to the kitchen to make myself a cuppa. I don't care about the timings, anything beyond 3 p.m. is chai time. I check about 5 times on R to find him asleep. I smile in my head and add the sugar to the tea and put it to my lips. Ammaaaaaaa...I hear a patter of little feet and find the fella right behind me with a sweet smile and I also imagine a 'caught-you' look in his eyes.

Yet again!

2011-07-14T11:03:00.000+05:30

Yet again...

Yet again we are caught vulnerable
yet again our leaders
sacrificed us at the altar
yet again we shed tears
for those who lost their loved ones
'cause this government does not care

Gloom, despair, frustration, anger
emotions fill the heart galore
death is natural but not terror
but this has happened yet again

For how long do we tolerate
for long do we keep moving on
there is only one life
we cannot give another chance
to witness a 'yet again'

It's time to get up
it's time to revolt
against the enemy;
one that is not unknown
but a friend whose face
we have now known

let's not be resilient
let's not be brave
for these are virtues
taken advantage of
to recreate a 'yet again'

At 19 months..

2011-07-06T17:28:00.000+05:30

R can string two words together to form a phrase. He says "gut maning" or "pone ta" (phone ta - give the phone)
"appy buday".

His hands, feet and mouth seem to work in tandem. He is mostly seen running, fidgeting and chattering away all at the same time.

He loves roaming about the house on the tip of his toes just "hunting" for some kind of mischief. The favourite place is still the kitchen. The area of focus has widened its scope from the cabinets- which still holds attraction- to the counter top. I find it nearly impossible to keep things out of his reach. He simply reaches out to things balancing himself on his toes and stretching his hands as far as he can to pick the farthest item on the counter. This is especially annoying when I am cooking and cannot possibly keep everything I use to place it back into its right location or at least away from his reach.

He loves to be tickled and actually "asks" to be tickled by lying down on the bed or couch and calling out to me or hubby with a mischievous smile.

He has begun to climb on even the tiniest of ledges and handles of cabinets.

The phase of throwing things, hitting and biting has begun. Hitting and biting is thankfully (?) limited to us parents (yet). On the note of throwing, the other day balancing himself on the small ledge on the wall propping himself up by holding the window grill to look outside. This he does often to watch the vehicles go past on the dusty road nearby. I happened to give him company this time and was looking out when my eyes fell upon a shiny small black object in a corner downstairs. It eerily looked familiar to the remote control of our music system. Now, although we rarely use the system, it is precious to us firstly because my hubby won this in his office yearly shuffle that they have for the New Year's. Secondly, simply because it came free doesn't mean it has no value. It is a wonderful speaker system that supports the ipod. But as I mentioned we rarely use it for the lack of time hence the remote control is not something that we would miss in our daily lives. Secondly, to calm and keep R still after bath so that he would lie quiet till I dressed him up, I usually give him some object that is attractive to him and this small piece comes in handy most times. And the multi-purpose object is generally (err...most times) restored to a more appropriate place later.

Back to the story, I saw this shining black thing and- bang -something clicked in my head. I searched for the remote and sure enough it was missing. I rushed downstairs thanking the supreme all the way that I noticed it before anyone else could lay their hands on it. It would be useless to that person but we would have lost a precious accessory whose replacement I am not sure would have been so easy. Not to mention the accompanying heartache and headache.

Maybe time to make an inventory and see if anything else is missing in the house!

Neighbours howlers (part two)

2011-07-06T11:48:00.000+05:30

The play area in our complex is on the first level which makes the car-park and the walk-way - which are on the ground level- and play area separate areas. R loves to camper down to the ground-level and admire the cars and bikes parked and also run down the joggers path. So I end up being the only mother at the walk-way running and keeping pace with a curious toddler meeting other curious joggers and oldies who are taking their evening walk. On one such evening I happened to come across an old lady (henceforth referred to as OL) who seemed amused with R's ways.

R was making sweeping gestures on the road and attempted to eat some pebbles for which I sharply chided him in Tamizh. It was this juncture that my first encounter with the OL happened. She heard and understood me and simply smiled and went her way. Such reactions are not new to me and I assumed her to be one among others who generally give me a amused and even at times an indulgent nod. As R and I were retreating to our home we met the OL again. This time she was in a more leisure mood, apparently having finished her evening walk. She caught up with us.

OL: So, you are done with sweeping the road?- *smiling and directing the Q towards R*

I smiled back in reply

OL: So, which block?

Me: ...block

OL: So, does he (R) go to school?

Me: No, not yet. There's still time for that.

OL: are you working?

Me: No

OL: tuitions then?

By now I had sensed the extreme and needless curiosity in the OL. Such people turn me off completely. I really don't know how to shut them up. Politeness also comes in the way if the other person is an elderly one. I could have come up with a dozen excuses and given her the slip but the barrage of questions ensued so swiftly that I did not have enough time to think. At such times I mostly clam up and answer in monosyllables hoping the other person would take the hint. But this OL was no mean person to take hints. She went about her probing ways. And the interrogation continued...

Me: No

OL: how do you pass the time then?

I must have reacted sharply in my facial expression for she quickly added that yes, I had my kid to look after. But, she continued........

is he (R) your first)?

Do you cook yourself or you have a maid?

What have you studied?

What does your Husband do?

Is his job transferable? Is this your own house?

And finally....what are your names?

With enough boredom and agitation in my voice that my conscience would permit I answered the OL and prayed like hell that I never meet her again. Anyway she had all the information with her to chart out my life-sketch.

All I could feel and say to myself at the end was grrrrrrrrrrrrr.....

For people who are curious to know about the part one of this series, they can read it here. The plot is uncannily similar. Hope it is not me who has the penchant of attracting such fellow inhabitants.

I've been tagged! - Motherhood lessons

2011-06-28T17:01:00.001+05:30

Aparna tagged me to write five foremost lessons that motherhood has taught me. Thanks Aparna for this tag! This is my first-ever tag.

Parenting, especially motherhood, is one job where the parents (it is a learning curve for both parents, although it is the mother who takes the exam) keep learning throughout their lives — it starts with bringing the child into this world, understanding the baby, dealing with the toddler, bonding with the teenager and nurturing and keeping the relationship alive with the adult.

I had a planned motherhood but I was totally unprepared for the challenges that this new responsibility was to throw onto me. The first few months of handling a demanding baby that hardly slept during the day and my own post-partum blues taught me to expect the unexpected. Just as I was to give in to despair and frustration, things began to look up and it was just a beginning to a wonderful relationship.

I learnt to take life a little easy and forgive myself for the mistakes that I made. I understood that everything cannot be planned and plans will invariably be upset with a baby in the household. I learnt to respect myself as an individual and also trust my decisions- this part is tough as I constantly self-doubt only to be reassured by my husband.

I found a new-found respect for my own parents as I realized how easy it is to judge someone from the outside but how very difficult it is to play the role of a parent. It is not as though you didn’t respect or love them earlier but after you become a parent, life takes on a new perspective that can be appreciated only by someone who is a parent.

A child lives life every moment. Each moment is enjoyed and explored to its potential. I am marveled and try to imbibe this very crux of life. I never realized that a smile on my child’s face could light up mine like a thousand-watt bulb. Every mischief and antic is cherished and relived by narrating it to my husband later in the evening or writing it out on this blog. Never thought life could revolve around a child in so many ways than one.
Having said this, I have also realized the importance of having my own “me” time. I realized that I will function better as a mother only if I can get some time off to be able to appreciate the time spent in.

As a parent I am anxious to give my child all the best things in life- just as any other parent would want to. Most importantly, I want to create a positive environment that is growth- conducive in our home for our son. This includes, among many other things, maintaining a healthy relationship with the spouse. Of course I take out my failings and frustrations as a mother on the hubby but I believe and realize that it is important for the child to feel the love, respect and warmth between the parents. So, just as it is necessary to be a good parent so it is to be a good spouse - at least in front of the child..;-)

This tag has been going around for quite sometime now in the mommy blogger circle and I have nodded my head in affirmation to most points that other mothers have written about. I tag:

Vidya (Life under the sky),
JLT (Just like that),
Uma (of the Pattu fame),
Chotu’s mom (chotu’s world),
Simran (chipsnchutzpah),
Nancy (Reflections)
and any other parent (fathers are also welcome) who would like to take up this tag. Would love to hear from you guys!

Am I Good enough?

2011-06-23T18:06:00.000+05:30

I wonder sometimes…
What is good enough?
If good enough is enough then
What is good enough?

I am judged by myself
But am also judged by many others
Is it enough to surpass myself..or
Is it necessary to surpass others?

I start by pleasing myself
Enroute I end up pleasing others
Suddenly pleasing others seems foremost
And I am not so sure of myself

It’s a good feeling to be liked by one or two
Even better if loved by all
What best if you can
But love yourself too

When you work for others
It is a job
When you work for yourself
It is a pleasure
Thus goes a known truth
Easier known than understood
For, had I known
Had I understood
I would have known..

Art and some giveaways..

2011-06-16T14:57:00.000+05:30

Art- in form of drawing, painting, sketching, craft or handiwork- and I are like chalk and cheese. The drawing classes in school used to send me into an all-time low. The teacher would announce a topic and while I would gape at the blackboard and devise ways of intelligently tackling the topic in a way that will allow least forms of drawing, my artistic friends would have filled the canvas in breathtaking hues and forms. I was among those students that could give the poor drawing teacher the nightmares.

I do have, can safely say, a decent sense of the aesthetics. So, you will not catch me dead in a fluorescent green shirt and shocking pink trousers. I like subtlety and a touch of ethnicity in my home décor. I love to browse through beautifully done up homes in magazines or blogs, drawing ideas and inspirations from them to decorate my future home. I have great regard and admiration for people who rather than just pick up random stuff out of store shelves, make the effort to create them and give them a personal and warm touch, especially given my inadequacy of craftsmanship and creativity.

So, what’s with a post with Art and a giveaway as the title? Since art and I do not gel so well, I cannot dream of giving my creations as a giveaway. I do not want to scare away the existing few that visit me here. Well, so what if I cannot make a portrait or think of a creative use for old curtains. It does not stop me for contesting for goodies that other artists are putting up as giveaways. Simran, whose blog simzcorner is a wonderful blog on home décor, is giving away awesome goodies to mark her 100th post milestone. Do have a look at what she has there.

p.s. Now, who can turn down a person who is such a great advertising mouthpiece...so maybe the awesome pouches may just find their way into my closet..Simran, are you listening?..;-))

And others, who may have also set their eyes and heart upon those gifts, may follow suit and spread the message and you may well be the lucky one.

How I Met My Husband (Part three)

2011-06-13T11:21:00.000+05:30

Story so far..

As per Hindu traditions, there is an inauspicious period of 15 days (pitrupaksh or mallayapaksham) where people refrain from embarking on any auspicious events-especially marriage. Since that period was nearing, both set of parents (esp mine) insisted that we meet up before it started. Now that was just a week away. This was first week of September. I was not too keen on meeting up just yet. I wanted to establish some more comfort factor. When I spoke to him he also felt it would rush matters unnecessarily although he didn’t quite mind it. The tentative date for the meeting was set for 6th September.

I was in a new job and my induction was to take place on the same very day and I could not miss it. So, I mailed him and asked him if he could meet me at the place where my induction would be conducted. It would save us the time I would spend in commuting all the way home (in the Mumbai traffic) in the evening after the event, I reasoned. He was new to the city but agreed nevertheless. A day before the D-day, he called me to say that his manager from the US has flown down for an important meeting and hence he wouldn’t be able to make it on 6th. Hah! Was I relieved!!! (I later learnt that he had sensed my hesitation and anxiety and decided to make an excuse. He won my heart all over again.)

So, it was decided that we meet after 15 days on the 24th of September. This gave us both some breathing space. In the meantime we spoke over the phone and exchanged a few more mails. I noticed that he began to address the mails with my name..:-). He also sent me a recent snap of his shot at a picnic and he looked much better -in fact he was good-looking..:-)

He was to come down to Mumbai to meet me. I asked him if we could meet alone and he said that he was fine with it and was in fact about to ask me the same. So we decided to meet at a park by a lake near my place. I picked him up mid-way from my place in an auto. I don’t remember what we spoke about but we ended up spending two hours by the lake-side. And the rest, as they say, is history. He later on came home with his sister and family to formally meet my parents. The engagement was fixed for October and the wedding in March. I ended up taking an off from work the next day and we went for a movie together-my first real date. He would come every month for an extended weekend stay at his sister’s house to visit me during our courtship days.

An arranged marriage to begin with ended up with love blossoming on both sides and our relationship getting stronger with time. As the saying goes, fruits of patience are sweet. I can certainly vouch for the truth in this saying.

How I Met My Husband (Part two)

2011-06-09T22:42:00.001+05:30

Story so far..

I was in the disinterested mode, nit-picking unnecessarily only so that I could avoid the rigmarole. The photograph on the profile was not impressive but I dare not say it aloud for my family would have chastened me for being unreasonable and difficult (which of course I had become by then). Secondly, I did not like the name. Ya, laugh as you might. But he has this old fashioned name and I fancied my husband having modern names. Thirdly, he was from Chennai- although he didn’t live there. Now, I had a mental block towards guys from Chennai- don’t ask me why and also because of the oppressive weather I didn’t fancy settling down there. But the other details were quite impressive I should say and so I had no proper reason to turn it down.

His parents lived in Chennai and he had a sister living in Mumbai near where we lived. My mother spoke to his mother who then gave us his email id so that we (the boy and me) could start corresponding. Also, between his parents and my parents, it was decided that his sister come and meet me. I was not excited to say the least. Anyway, like a good girl I dressed up accordingly before they arrived. His sister, her husband, sister’s co-sister and their daughter turned up at our place that evening. I usually take time to open up to strangers but that day I was silent even to my own discomfort. The sister was (is) very friendly and there was small talk about mundane things in life. She asked me if I was willing to relocate to Hyderabad, where the boy worked. I said I didn’t see any problem in doing so. I answered only when spoken to and that too in one-liners. I was secretly hoping that seeing my aloofness they would not go ahead with the matter. Later, when I overheard the sister asking my mother if I always spoke so little, I smiled to myself. My mother and sister covered it up saying that once I get to know the person I can be talkative - which was true in a way.

The next day in office I got a call from my mother. I had recently switched jobs and since the project was yet to start I had all day to me. She sounded excited and said that the sister and company liked me very much and came to our house to convey the same and also gave some personal information about the family which they thought we might need to think over if we needed to go ahead with the alliance. I was like gulp. This, after all that non-cooperative attitude I had put on. Mother was already much pepped up. I told her that anyway I can decide only after corresponding with the boy.

I wrote a general email writing a few details about myself. The date was 19th August. He replied promptly with the very details about himself as I had about myself. I noticed he addressed the emails with a Hi there instead of my name. (My nit-picking skills are quite sharp, btw). He asked me if I was comfortable with settling down in the southern states and/or abroad as his career options permitted him options only in those areas. I replied in affirmative except for Chennai. (No offence to Chennai-ites) He surprised me by replying that he himself had some reservations about the place! A couple of more emails and phone calls later our families started pestering us to meet so that a decision could be reached.

to be contd..

How I Met My Husband (Part one)...

2011-06-08T11:19:00.001+05:30

I had earlier written about my marriage saga. The story up to the marriage was not as simple and abrupt as mentioned there. As you know, I chose the internet way so that I could have some control over the choice of my life partner although there were horoscopes that were going to be matched as a pre-condition. It was already 4 long years since we (parents and I) had embarked upon this journey and never once had I imagined the heartaches that were in line for me. When my husband’s proposal came along, I was already miffed about the entire process of this arranged marriage business.

Now, if I liked the photograph and the primary details of the boy, the horoscope wouldn’t match and if the horoscopes matched to perfection, well,..you get the drift. There were times when the guy and me would exchange some mails and it would seem (at least to me) that probably this is it and my mother would start imagining the marriage happen within a couple of months. Then, like a thunderbolt out of nowhere the mails would just stop or the guy would give feeble excuses like he is going out of town for a project and would be busy. I was initially naïve and would wait endlessly refreshing the mail-box to see if there was a reply to my mails. Later, I became a pro in reading between the lines. I could almost write a book on - If a guy says this, he actually means this. I had met some and interacted with plenty on the internet and discovered a plethora of weird personalities. I could write a book on the weirdos that I had the (mis)fortune of getting acquainted with. I also understood that education had nothing to do with the mindset of the person.

The first two years of the search were not bad I would say. True, there were times when I wished feverishly that the proposal materialized and was quite disappointed when they didn’t. Yet, the hope and my self-image were not yet battered. There was hope and enthusiasm. The period made my search criteria clearer as I graduated from what I did not want to want I wanted in my spouse. But as the time passed on, the sheer effort of identifying prospects, entering into a dialogue with them, investing emotions and time and then detaching when the talks did not fructify began to take a toll on me and I was almost a case for the agony aunt column. Now, it was not that I faced rejection all the time. I rejected quite too many too. But rejection either ways was painful.

I had a job, a few close friends and a decent social life that kept my sanity levels from reaching a point of no-return, but only just. The after-office hour times were always filled with some kind of gloom always associated with proposals not clicking, people around giving their invaluable and most always unnecessary advice, relatives suggesting anyone who they thought is ready to get married as prospective alliances, worse- my parents ready to contact all of those, people claiming to be well-wishers subtly and not-so-subtly counseling me and sometimes my parents to reconsider our (my) check-list for the groom insinuating that if we (I ) were rigid in our wish-list, it would be too late for me to get married.

I was hopelessly losing faith in this arranged marriage system and cursed my stars that I did not have the (good?)fortune of having a love marriage. That, I am those shy types who never dated in college or never met anyone in office is not the fault of the stars but at that time I needed someone to blame the mess I was in and I was in no mood to blame myself, you see. So, it was when I was in such deep state of mental stress that my husband’s proposal came along. It was this two-line message over the matrimony portal from his parents that said that the horoscopes matched from their end and if we were OK with the preliminaries, we contact them.

to be contd...

Then...and..Now...

2011-05-30T19:16:00.000+05:30

When I was at my parents’ house prior to my marriage, I could have easily qualified as the quintessential procrastinator. Never felt the urgency to finish any task told to be performed. That I would agree to finish off one itself was considered a favour and relief (by folks). My sister would invariably shoulder more responsibilities around the house and I would get away doing very little (quite negligible). I shaped up (improved) a little after my sister got married. I do not know why I was the way I was at that time. I can put it down to being just lazy and also I knew for a fact that if I didn’t do it someone else will do it. The following scene is only an example. You could replace the request for anything else (read doing work) and the scene would have unfolded in almost similar fashion.

Scene 1: The clothes are piled up waiting to be folded.

Sister: Please fold the clothes
Me: hmm..later.
Sister: when?
Me: after some time, maybe evening.

Evening comes; the request- now taking the tone of a command- is repeated

Me: err..tomorrow, I’ll do it.

A day later, some more clothes pile up.

Sister: Fold the clothes, will you??!!
Me: (not particularly busy) Now??..I don’t have the time, maybe later...

After some heated argument, sister realizing the futility of the situation, folds the clothes herself.

So, why am I reflecting up on the past, especially the not-so-flattering-part? Because, I have begun to feel that I am paying for my karma. I am now being paid back in my own coin. No, it is not that my parents or sister who are avenging. It is my dear hubby. Destiny played its cards well, you see. The above scene is replayed many times over now with just a change in the cast. Dear hubby (playing the part played by me years ago) and me (playing the other exasperated family member).

I have changed. Post marriage. Seems quite sudden but now, between the two of us, I am like a machine with timer set for every task during the day. Hubby dear doesn’t feel the need to do anything at any particular time. Meaning, anything can be done at any pace and at any time of the day. He can be totally at peace with the bed undone and the newspapers strewn across the room well past time for breakfast. (I am only talking of weekends where I expect him to pitch in). Now, that’s way late for me and realizing that he won’t do it, I end up doing it. I am discovering latent freakiness for tidiness and discipline in me which I suspect has gone on an overdrive to make up for the insufficient or lack thereof in my better half. Also now I know that if I don’t clear up the mess, then no one else will. To be fair to him he does try to pitch in when the nagging gets the better of him but then I do find a lot of holes in the final outcome. That gives him further fodder- you anyway do not approve, so I rather not do it- to justify his stand. In turn I accuse him of a half-hearted approach and the cycle thus continues.

My shallow knowledge of the law of karma tells me that in Kaliyuga, we are made to pay for our sins in the same Yuga. Well, I can only wonder if it isn’t too soon that the tables are turned to teach me a lesson. And if the laws of karma could be so prompt, can I expect the tides changing in my favour soon?

R times

2011-05-22T09:51:00.001+05:30

R will turn 18 months on the 26th of this month. Here's a quick update for this month:

We have to keep R constantly engaged especially while changing his diapers else he would run off. So we come up with newer things to “teach” him and ask him to repeat after us only so he has his mind off the fact that he is lying still for a few minutes of diaper-change. During one such occasion we taught him the months of the year. It would have been just a couple of times we did that but R now says them all (of course in his baby “mazhalai” language).

He can count numbers one to ten in Hindi, English and Tamil. Of the three languages, he says it the best in Tamil. The way he stresses on “anjju” and “ombanddu” always brings a smile on my face. In English he generally skips the numbers seven and eight. Hindi version needs some practice..;-)

His recitation of the Alphabets is amusing. He says A, B, C, D, F, G, H, Y, Z, “H” and “X” being phonetically similar.

He enacts these nursery rhymes while I recite it- two little hands go clap clap.., teddy bear teddy bear, twinkle twinkle, finger rhyme. He has about 70 words in his vocab list though most of it sound similar to one another and only Amma, not even Appa, can understand it.

He currently loves the act of opening and closing any bottle or container. He is trying to master the turning of the cap on to the bottle/container and this can keep him busy for at least 10-15 mins. That’s a huge amount of “me time” I can get at one go.

When asked, “Onnodu paer enna?” (What is your name?), he points to himself and says, “ichab”. He has no knowledge of colours but says geen and boo. Ask the colour of any random object and you would first get a geen for an answer. If you say that’s not right, he will say boo. He loves the water but hates the bath session.

He is still the friendly kid and just about stops short of smiling and waving at every random person. He is drawn towards other kids – all ages. He tries to reach out to them by smiling and approaching them saying paapa paapa. (Even if the kid is older than him by 4-5 years, he is paapa :-))

He has entered the tantrum throwing phase. If he is reprimanded or doesn’t get his way, he bawls, lying on the floor and howls with tears - marble-sized- in his eyes. Mostly he doesn’t get any attention for such dramatic expression and those tears magically dry up the next second.

He is also mastering the bore-a-hole-in-amma’s-head strategy. It is a strategy in which he repeats a word-could be anything from asking something to eat or pointing to a toy he has or just saying amma amma amma- until amma has abandoned all that she is doing currently to focus solely on him. This strategy is successfully employed when amma is at her busiest either cooking or writing a post. Even as I write this, R is applying this strategy and amma has to quickly draw this post to a close.

Are You Fair Enough?

2011-05-18T13:48:00.001+05:30

I am talking about skin colour here. If you are even one shade less than a white-washed tone, you better start using the fairness products else god forbid you may lose the job interview, remain a spinster all your life, suffer nasty remarks from the road side pani-puri Walla and such other dreadful consequences.

Seriously, what are the Ad companies thinking when they show ads where a person using a fairness cream has an interview panel groveling before him to accept the job or a lady who is already ready to give the sun tough competition is depressed about her skin not glowing enough? A fair-skin can get you your dream job, win beauty pageants, the man of your dreams, and in short have the heavens and lady luck licking your feet. Never mind education and knowledge. That is for the less fortunate ones. The colour of the skin rather than person’s inherent qualities like confidence, talent or even education determines his or her destiny. I am surprised that no one has thought of suing these in-your-face-liars.

However there is a far more serious issue here. And I am not even talking about the validity of their claims when they insist they a person with a dusky-complexion can become a white-skinned foreigner within a week or even life-time use of their products. The inherent desire of the Indian or Asian skin-coloured that desperately wants to become fairer at whatever cost is the underlying factor that is being exploited to deaths by advertising firms. In the wake of this reality, can we really blame them? Fairness of the skin is associated with beauty, intelligence, competence and all the goodness that heavens have to bestow. We may have made inroads into science and technology, have the best international schools, colleges and B-schools churn out bright alumni year after year, yet we are unable to wipe out this deep-rooted regressive belief and instil pragmatic thinking and self-confidence that is not dependant of racial background.

A dusky girl is considered far more unlucky than her male counterpart for the obvious concern about who will marry this poor dark girl? Although the evolution of metro-sexual male has given rise to fairness cream for men, men by and large get away from being typecast in skin-colour moulds. After men need to be tall, dark and handsome but women need to be tall, fair, slim, beautiful and what-not. Women-centric serials start with the concept of having dusky protagonists defying the trend but a few episodes down the line they strangely turn a few shades fairer. Hot model Bipasha though known as the dusky siren is ironically never portrayed on-screen in her true skin-tone.

While we Asians spend our time trying to lighten our genetics, our western counterparts spend hours in sunlight to get a darker skin tone. Talk about the grass being greener on the other side! Here’s a satirical anecdote I read recently in the magazine section of a leading newspaper. I do not remember the name of the author, unfortunately. An Indian mother prays to God about getting a fair bride for her son. God more than answers her prayer when her son comes home with a foreigner much to her dismay. Maybe she did not want such a “fair” bride after all. About time to start wishing for more meaningful things in life.

Where's the mother tongue?

2011-05-14T11:13:00.002+05:30

What is with parents and even grand parents these days to speak to their wards only in English? I stay in a complex that has roughly 500 flats and almost each having at least one kid. I meet so many parents with their children in the park area and all I get to hear is conversations in English. The percentage is slightly lower if the kid is below 2 years old but if the child is in the pre-school age or above that, in 8 out of 10 cases, across all communities, I witness the English-obsession scenario.

Earlier we were not exposed as much to the CBSE and ICSE boards of schooling as we are today. International schools were a rarity. Only parents who migrated from abroad had their wards speaking in heavily accented English much to awe and envy of us lesser-mortals. English-speaking was considered hip then and we all tried desperately to “fit” in. The situation as I see is has not changed much even today. I agree that good written and spoken English is an important skill today and hence needs to be developed and honed. Yet, this is not a sufficient excuse to banish the local language even from home.

I fail to understand the psyche of parents who send their children to international schools-where they anyway would learn and master the Queen’s language- and yet choose English over their mother tongue as the medium of communication even at home. Does it not border on extremism when your child knows a foreign language too well and responds ONLY in that language even when spoken to in a regional language that would be their mother tongue? How can this be a matter of pride when you announce to people that “my child understands X language but cannot or does not speak”? It is a probably a different matter if the child is raised in a foreign country. Even then, in my opinion, it is the duty of the parents to ensure that the child speaks his or her mother tongue at home. Whatever gaps or shortcomings noticed in picking up the language should be filled in by inculcating a healthy reading habit.

Does this trend mean that the mother-tongue is losing its importance? That if you do not know to speak your mother-tongue yet can write essays in English, you will be looked up to? There is already a degradation of regional languages from one generation down to the other because of the influence and sometimes overshadowing of other languages. Surely our parents and the generation before them spoke a more correct form of our regional tongue. I, for one feel quite bad for not knowing to read or write in my mother tongue. While my husband and I have arguments about which one of us speaks better Tamizh, we agree wholeheartedly on teaching R this language. It is up to us parents to inculcate in young minds the pride associated with vernacular language and ensure that it does not meet a slow death generations down the line.

ETA: This is a link shared by Sebamedmom about languages and what a crucial role it plays in individuals by Ganesh Devy at Mumbai Tedx event
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=vc76V7rXDqg

About a holiday well spent and some other plans

2011-05-11T21:58:00.003+05:30

We are back from a short but lovely weekend trip to Ooty. We clubbed it along with a friend’s wedding at Tiruppur-about 100 kms from Ooty. It was quite a last minute decision to club the two trips and expectedly, as is the case with last minute bookings, the travel and accommodation booking was quite a crazy affair. Some things went in our favour, some didn’t. In hindsight, would have liked to change a few things; however the holiday mood and spirit was not to be dampened.

We stayed at a hotel named Sherlock managed by Little Earth group of hotels. A heritage villa turned into a hotel, the entire ambience was a visual treat and pleasure to stay. As the name suggests, it is named after the famous detective of the Arthur Conan Doyle novel- The Sherlock Holmes Series. The rooms are named after some popular thriller titles in the series- The Baskervilles, The Dancing Men, The Copper Beeches, The Three Gables and The Gloria Scott; the restaurant was called “Irene Adler- Holmes idea of a perfect woman”. Now, I am a big fan of this detective series novel and was thrilled with the idea of staying in such a setting; also the main reason to zero down on this hotel for our stay. (Only people who have read this novel can probably relate to this).

The three luxury rooms each had a balcony attached that overlooked a common, small, pretty and well-maintained lawn. The lush green trimmed grass, colourful shrubs of flowering plants of all kinds, tables and chairs arranged in cozy corners of the garden to sip your tea in the midst of nature — a perfect way to spend your weekend. Since we had visited Ooty in the recent past, we were not keen on sight seeing. It was a good decision for R since he is anyway not at an age to appreciate sight hopping. He enjoyed himself thoroughly; simply running, skipping and playing about in the garden.

It was a much needed break from the routine of waking up early, rushing through breakfast, cooking, lunch-packs, cleaning, tidying and clearing up a house which always seems to resemble a tornado wrecked one. For a change R decided to stick to hubby for all the entertainment leaving me to relax and enjoy my space. It was refreshing yet odd in a way. Refreshing, because I got to savour the rare “me” times that I have had ever since I became a mother. Odd, because R seemed to associate Appa with going out and Amma with being at home, hence choosing the former for outings while needing the latter at home. Toddlers seem to have this amazing sense of associating person with their respective occupation. Not a very comforting setting and I made a mental note to have this changed in the near future.

Talking of which I have been toying with the idea of working from home sometime soon. The idea has been there ever since R turned a year old but for some reasons or the other I have been chickening out. I am not able to put a finger to it but I have not been able to get going with checking off the to-do list before I begin my transition from SAHM to WFHM (work-from-home-mother).

R needs to be sent to a day-care for at least 4-5 hours:
This is a major move for me and R (maybe more for me). It would the first time since his birth that we would be apart for so long in a day. I know this has to be done sooner than later yet I wonder if it is too soon and how he (or me?) will cope.

I need to learn to drive:
I had learnt to drive in 2007 but never spent time behind the wheel ever since hence I am as good as a fresh learner. I was never scared of the roads. I used to ride a two-wheeler prior to my marriage but post-marriage I haven’t even taken a cycle on the roads and now the thought of driving on Bangalore roads is making me somewhat jittery.

I need to brush up on my technical skills before bringing my resume to life: My career graph has been through many short and long breaks, so this is not so much of a nagging issue.

I will have to re-establish my networking skills to be able to get steady flow of work:
Of this part I am fairly confident since I am not completely out-of touch with my old workmates.

Well, what needs to be done, needs to be done. Hoping to shrug off the inertia soon and get going.

New updates about R

2011-05-06T17:23:00.001+05:30

It is amazing to note how each month unfolds newer aspects in your toddler. What seemed a hurdle last month for the child is now a mere activity. Every aspect of development shows a significant leap in terms of growth.

Recognizes shapes – At 17 months, R can now recognize various shapes. Although he says the relevant word for each one, only the adoring mother can make out what he means. For example:

Tarke -- circle
Pae -- square
Aeta -- rectangle
Tan -- triangle
Heart -- heart
Jing -- ring
Ova -- oval
Koob -- cube
Kone -- cone
Mand -- diamond
Taar -- star

He says moon for crescent since he associates it with the shape of the moon.

Identifies the characters of his favourite books

R can identify almost all the objects in his favourite books. He has these sparkly books that introduces animals found in a jungle, ocean and underwater in the form of a nice story. R loves to browse through these books and exclaim with joy the names of animals as he does so.

Beaky -- name of the bird
Pathy -- panther
Chimp -- chimp
Tath -- sloth
Hisss hisss -- snake
Tee -- tree
Fog -- frog
Ba-bye -- any guess?? It’s a butterfly
Hyna -- hyena
Aino -- rhino
Aff -- giraffe
Peacup -- peacock
Wae -- whale
Toto -- turtle
Tarpich -- starfish
Ow -- Owl
jeeba -- zebra

Counts one to ten and says the alphabets (with a lot of prompting, of course), also recognizes a few numbers and alphabets

Climbs up and down a flight of stairs with help

Buckles the stroller belt on his own

Stacks up to 7 blocks

Lighted out!

2011-04-29T17:07:00.001+05:30

Our erstwhile water purifier was a non-RO purifier and it was a long pending item on our list to buy a RO compliant one. (For the uninitiated, RO purifier is one that filters hard water/ borewell water). After much research we decided on “Kent” which is the most popular in Bangalore houses. It has the unique feature of being able to filter both kinds of water-soft and hard. Ok, now before you guys start to think I am a marketing agent for Kent and trying to sell this product to fellow bloggers, let me come to the point.

After some initial confusion about the billing part and a wait of over a week, we got the technician to install the machine. The after-sales service in Bangalore needs some help. Seriously. Anyway, I digress again. So, this technician dismounted our old one, fixed the new one, added and tweaked some fittings, jotted down some things in his book, all this with a precision and speed of a veteran.

I performed the balancing act of supervising him and keeping my curious toddler away from the scene of activity with panache. After the installation, the technician gave me some instructions about throwing away the first set of water before the first use. I asked him some ~~relevant~~ intelligent questions before he signed off. Now, there is a water-level indicator on the side panel of the water purifier. For some reasons, I came to believe that there are supposed to be indicator lights for the “empty” and “full” levels. I even remembered (imagined?) seeing the lights functioning at my friend’s place.

As is the wont with “Murphy’s law”, such doubts or rather revelations arise only AFTER the technician is safely out of your complex. So, after some frantic phone calls to the dealer, who in turn promptly directed me to the local customer service, I put my concerns across to the lady who answered. She heard me through the complaint just to say, “Ma’m, please call tomorrow, as we are closing for the day.”

Well, next day, I made a fresh call and was happy to get my complaint registered without any problem. I was told that the technician would arrive within a day or two. Now, in the meantime, I spoke to my friend (who also happens to own the same model) and updated her of the happenings. She lent a sympathetic ear and agreed to my raves and rants of the sales service. Not a word about the indicator lights, though.

Now, to the climax of the story: The technician arrived the next day and after I told him of the fault, he replied coolly, “ma’m, lekin lights toh hote hi nahin hain!” (There aren’t supposed to be any indicator lights in the first place, madam)
I was like,”$%^?????...(with indignity and apparent embarrassment) lekin, mere friend ke yahan toh lights aate hain??” (But, these lights appear in the machine at my friend’s place.) I mentioned about having seen the lights, remember?

I proceeded to cross-verify on the internet. I could also hide away that way you see.
I left my husband to deal with him. The hapless guy (both of them hapless, in this case) repeated the same thing to him and when he saw that I wasn’t about to come out of my cross-check mode, gave the parting punch line to my husband,

“Main paanch saal se kaam kar raha hoon. Abhi tak aisa model nahin dekha jisme lights ho!”
(I have been working since 5 years and am yet to see a model (means a machine here) with lights.)

I spent the rest of the evening smarting under bruised ego and wondering how come none of the people (ones who took down my complaint) I spoke to over the phone could enlighten me at that point itself? How come even my friend failed to mention the non-existence of the lights (except the ones in my mind)?

Talk about the universe conspiring against you!

First Is Best

2011-04-28T13:07:00.001+05:30

The firsts in one’s life are always special. They need not have been perfect yet remain in your hearts forever. The first school, first friend (maybe not be necessarily the first but someone who first made you feel special), first house, first crush, first love, first job, the list can go on.

A lot of firsts are etched out in my memory; the foremost and most often thought of and cherished one being that of my first job. In many ways, it could have been better. In many ways, I could have handled it better. Yet in spite of such failings, I cannot deny the fact that my investment in this job reaped me rich dividends in many more ways than one.

My first work place aided as my personality development school of sorts. From a shy, self-doubting person, I became a more confident person who started to believe in her abilities; even developed leadership qualities. It helped that my work commanded respect from my colleagues. While, working with a team felt more like an extension of a college life, pulling each other’s legs, having fun at some jerk’s (there are always some around, aren’t they?) expense, it also taught me the importance of team work where one pitched in for the other without much ado when the occasion demanded. When the working hours extended long after the required time (and it happened quite often when the project was at the nascent stage), it felt like an extended party time. (Yes, it was crazy.)

While all the fun was good, there was serious work done too. With our project being the first of its kind in India, at that time, there was a lot of documentation work (yes that boring stuff), fire-fighting, learning new concepts, revisiting work methods and fine-tuning them, endless discussions and conference calls with clients (tough German clients at that). That, I was preferred over my team mates to work on crucial areas gave me the extra boost to drive myself further; needless to add that it also spoke for my abilities and expertise. I was happy to justify the confidence shown in me by giving it my all.

I was to learn later that mixing your emotions with your career is not a wise thing to do and you might always maintain a love-hate relationship with your job. Some of the valuable corporate lessons that were to remain with me for my future stints in the corporate world:

1. Climbing the ladder is not proportional to the amount and quality of work put in.
2. Less-deserving colleagues may always seem to move up the rung faster than you.
3. Corporate life does not function in all fairness and you will be at some points of time at the receiving end of unfair treatment.
4. Sometimes it takes just one person or moment to destroy the trust with the company.

The utopian attitude and naivety of a fresher almost always clashes violently with the real, harsh and scheming world resulting in either an enlightened and wiser person ready to mould oneself to fit in or to become a cynic who is unable to let go of values like sincerity, honesty, justice and equality and yet desperately tries to fit in.

And so, I ended up with a bitter taste in my mouth unable to digest or accept with grace or surrender to the whys and hows of the corporate world; where ratings are pre-decided and the appraisals orchestrated to somehow highlight the misses more than the hits therein ‘justifying’ the score so to say.

Yet, for all that my first job taught me—positives still outweigh the negatives—I am truly grateful for the experience.

Because....

2011-04-25T10:21:00.000+05:30

Because I don’t speak,
Doesn’t mean I lack the courage
Because I don’t ask,
Doesn’t mean I don’t understand
Because I don’t cry,
Doesn’t mean I am not hurt
Because I don’t pry,
Doesn’t mean I am not concerned

I have a heart that feels,
I have a mind that thinks,
I am compassionate, so I know,
What can be said is best unsaid
I am just and fair,
But I am not perfect for all I care

I may not be the way you want me to be
Yet I am a soul, pray, don’t ignore me!

Goodbye!

2011-04-22T10:58:00.000+05:30

How does one say it? The heart is squeezed, voice is choked and eyes are misty. It is perhaps the last time of shared space. Suddenly there seems so much to talk about. So much to share; so much to laugh. You wish for one more year, one more month, one more day, one more moment of togetherness. You look back at the time that has whizzed past, caressing memories fondly, cherishing each laugh, each tear, the despair, the cheer, the harmless digs at one another, the said and the unsaid.

Promises to keep in touch are made. Hugs and best wishes exchanged. Bridges are crossed. Amends are made; forgiveness asked and given. Final moments are dragged on, almost as if waiting for the heavens to reverse it. Familiar hang-outs are revisited and the endless tales recaptured and bound in memory.

There is never an easy way to say goodbye. It is never easy to let go. Yet we say it. Life is about moving on and not stopping still. We are allowed to carry our baggage with us yet it is wise to de-clutter once in a while to take only the fragrance to enrich newer experiences.

The Art Of Living

2011-04-20T15:09:00.008+05:30

Observing R leaves me wondering where and when did we (grown ups) leave behind the art of living. It is amazing how he or in general toddlers carry on with their day. It is strictly on a day-to-day basis. They do not remember yesterday and they couldn’t care for tomorrow.

Our baggage of past eats well into our today and our today is creased with worry lines of tomorrow. We simply cannot concentrate on today and we do not remember the moments that went by.

Every moment is lived to the fullest. Even the tiniest accomplishment (it is not tiny for them of course) gives him the world of joy. No amount of failure or hurdles puts a spoke in his determination. He is relentless in his pursuit.

How come we never notice, leave alone revel in our small victories? How every step we take needs to be a success; so obsessed we are with whatever definition we have of success we fail to appreciate the little things that matter. Every obstacle we come across translates into our personal failure and a tryst with self-pity.

He goes about playing the same game over and over with no signs of boredom. In fact he sees a new way about it each time. Every day he learns something new.

How easily we tire of the routine and mundane! We have nothing new to add to the routine and the very task wears us down. And learning something new needs a lot of planning.

He laughs so easily. Even after I lose my temper at him during my moments of frustrations, he is easily cheered. No trace of any grudge. Forgiveness comes naturally. It is all forgotten the next moment.

How we struggle to smile our woes away. How minutely we keep track of our hurt moments; forgive we may but forget we don’t.

He eats only when he needs to and sleeps only as much as he needs waking up always refreshed and happy.

Do I need to say about how we go about with our eating and sleeping patterns? I do not remember the last time I woke up feeling refreshed and happy. Always wanted a few more minutes!

We are in a hurry to grow up when young and wish to go back to our childhood when older. We attend art of living courses to learn the very same foundation lessons that came so easily and naturally to us when younger. But are we even letting children live their childhood? The first brush with competition and rat race begins with the school admissions itself. What with tiny 3 and 4 year olds having to prepare for an interview! It is no less than a job interview with interviews scheduled at 3-4 schools before choosing the best one. Or is it the other the way round with the schools choosing their wards? It does not end there. At every stage the child is made to compete with the peers in academics and extra-curricular activities. A is going to skating and karate classes why should B be left behind. In all this, somewhere important lessons are missed and then we wonder years down the line on some blog like this.

Band Baaja Bride..

2011-04-19T15:43:00.000+05:30

..is the name of a show on NDTV Goodtimes. I have been following the programs on this channel since they launched it three years ago. They have some really good shows that cover a variety of topics -- food, travel, beauty, fashion, pets, fitness, technology, spirituality, to name a few.

The program in question conceptualizes the idea of providing the perfect makeover a bride-to-be ever dreams of. The team dons the garb of Santa Claus in transforming a girl-next-door into no less than a Bollywood diva on her D-day. From perfect make-up to designer outfits, the bride gets it all. “If you are getting married and would like to have a dream makeover, do write in to us and we may contact you” goes the ad campaign for this reality show. Of course there is a teeny weenie disclaimer that says, yes you guess it right, *conditions apply*. The episodes I have watched have generally featured brides-to-be from quite affluent families who can anyway afford expert advice. So there may be something to suggest there.

Nevertheless, BBB makes for an entertaining show. It begins with the introduction of the to-be bride and her family along with their expectations from the makeover. The makeover is usually segmented into three parts- first, ironing out the imperfections in the overall physical appearance of the girl, second, her hair and facial-make-up and lastly her outfit for the occasion. Experts- like Shahnaz Hussain, Samantha Kocchar, Neeta lulla and such other eminent names- are consulted for the relevant segment. For instance, in a particular episode, the woman in question had a prominent gummy smile of which she was extremely conscious of and wished it could be corrected. And voila! The team arranged for a dental surgeon who fixed the problem with a minor surgery that lasted about 30 minutes to give the woman the perfect smile. Another girl who had a problem putting on weight and had eating disorders had counseling sessions with a nutritionist who gave her valuable tips to improve her health. A plump bride aspiring to slim down dramatically just days before the D-day was given a designer lehenga with appropriate silhouette to make her broad frame look slimmer. Yet another anxious bride went through pre-marital counselling sessions to help her prepare herself for the next phase in her life.

While this show definitely raises the bar to look better than your best on your wedding day, it also makes the achieving part seem fairly simple and within your reach. I watch this show for fun but generally wonder if such shows put unwanted pressure on the already-pressurized young girls to achieve the perfect 10 in the looks department. It would prudent to remind impressionable minds that while it is great to have a dream wedding, it does not really matter in the long run. For a dream marriage, it takes a lot of hard work; a perfect body, perfect make-up, hair-do and designer outfits really cannot help you there.

What is new with R?

2011-04-16T15:06:00.002+05:30

Have I mentioned how much R loves books? We try to equip his mini-library with a variety of books as and when we can. We hardly buy him any toys. Most of the toys he owns are gifts. We, mother and son duo, spend quite some time every day reading his books.

Some conversations between Amma and R

Amma: One,…
R: tu, ti, o, ai, chikch, ett, nine, ten
Amma: A,..
R : Bee, chee, eff, aech, ai,..

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Hubby is teaching R numbers in tamil. So, here is R’s attempt at it:

Onni, enni, muni, nani, aani, ….the rest upto number nine is met with silence. As soon as you say ombodu…

R: pattiii….(with a triumphant look)

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Amma: Plane eppidi pogum? (how does the plane go)
R: da-da-da (he says paeim for plane)
Amma: car eppidi pogum?
R: da-da-da
Amma: Bike/auto (any other vehicle) epidi pogum?
R: da-da-da

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Amma: One, two, buckle my…
R: choo
Amma: Three, four shut the…
R: ore
Amma: five, six, pick up the…
R: chikch
Amma: Seven, eight, lay them…
R: chae
Amma: nine, ten, a big fat…
R: hennn…koyda (claps his hands in glee if I do not do so, self-praise already!)

Btw, koyda is his way of saying kozhi which means hen in tamil

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Reading a book about sea animals

Amma: (pointing to a fish) idu ennadu? (what is this?)
R: pich (with a broad smile for Amma to appreciate and acknowledge)

Amma claps promptly

Amma: (pointing to a star fish) idu?
R: tar pich (applause by amma)
Amma: how many whales?
R: tu, tee..
Amma: how many fish?
R: tu, tee..

Amma claps nevertheless.

Now R is motivated and brings in more books to show off his knowledge to Amma

R points to a crab and says caab

Picks up random books, points to random things

Taamu (it’s a tomato), naano (it’s a rhino), afff ( Giraffe), kaamu (camel), Kaat (cat),

Ba-boo (dog), kai (car), nana (trying to say yaanai/elephant), goat (he means boat too when he sees one, just doesn’t understand the syllable difference),

Tick-taaf (clock-it goes tick-tick, right. Hence the name derivation)

Amma has no other business but to nod in silence and make appropriate appreciative gestures.

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I am yet to find a kid that is not fascinated with the cell-phone or any other electronic gadget. But somehow, the mobile takes the cake. R is no exception when it comes to this little wonder piece. He throws a tantrum to lay his hands on it. We do not usually give in to his tantrums, so it is on very rare occasions that he gets to fool around with our mobile phones. When he does manage to steal it, he holds it near his ear and says:

Aaoo,…Paati, tatha, and then rambles on some gibberish which is generally a string of words he has learnt so far.

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I am trying to put into R some discipline. Ha! What a joke! Toddlers and discipline rarely go together. I know *sigh*. But I can try, right?

He has taken fancy to switching on and off the fan and light switches as well as the T.V and computer. I am not much of a T.V. person but it is really annoying to have a toddler black out the screen with sadistic glee. No amount of cajoling, threat or at time a whack has any sort of effect. Makes you feel non-existent, grrrrrrr. And the comp, well, it just cannot be left unguarded even for a moment. Else, it goes pop! Even the best UPS will not be able to save the system from a constant boot and re-boot.

One thing that makes me beam with pride is when he hands over his milk bottle to me after finishing it off, no matter where I am. He diligently looks for me around the house and hands me over his empty bottle. Hmm, some solace there.

Shake off the hangover

2011-04-07T15:01:00.001+05:30

The world cup frenzy continues unabated four days after the historic day. Cricket, yet again, has succeeded in igniting the patriotic flame. I cannot deny the pride and happiness that is associated with the victory. It is a matter of great pride and the Indian cricket team must be lauded for its effort and performance. Yet, we, in our obsession for the game, cannot overlook the larger picture. The in-the-face scams and scandals that are making a mockery of democracy and governance cannot be wished away or brushed under the carpet of a world-cup victory.

Time and again cricket matches have been used as crutches to create an “all izz well” atmosphere. During the pre-finals, corrupt leaders, yet again, made cricket a platform for initiating a mock peace campaign between two-warring nations. After being the initiator of series of such campaigns and then being victimized by terror attacks that were executed with even greater vengeance post such peace-making, even a child will catch the joke here. No, we do not want to forget 26/11 ever.

The corrupt government has so much money to bestow on select individuals but none (rather no inclination) for the mass majority of the population. A family affected by a tragedy triggered either by nature or terror gets a compensation that is akin to mercy we show the beggars on the street. Even our war soldiers do not get the god-like status that our cricketers--mind you only cricketers no other sportsman is worthy of such honour--enjoy. Doesn’t it strike any one in the right frame of mind to question such brazen disparity?

A second-highest populated nation is sadly bereft of any hero-like figure that can be idolized. No wonder people take to movies and sports (read cricket) to find their idol. Gifts showered on their heroes are being lauded and lapped up as though it translates into their personal upliftment. A cricket-frenzy and hero-deprived nation is tipsy with celebrations. It is time to wake up and shake off the hangover.

The anti-corruption campaign started by Anna Hazare is a cue that we need to take. It is time we took to streets, just like the Tunisians and Egyptians did to fight against the tyrannical rule. Inspired by Namratha Prabhu’s piece, I am doing my bit by spreading the word. The following lines are verbatim from her article:

The DM2 is a built up towards Anna Hazare’s ‘Fast unto Death’ that is going to commence from April 5th to April 10th, at the Jantar Mantar in New Delhi. A large number of volunteers have signed up for the fast. What you can do –

• Be it 1 day, 2 days or 5 days, you can fast with Hazare to show your support for the anti-corruption movement.
• If you cannot fast, show your support by being there at the Jantar Mantar.
• If you are not able to go to New Delhi, join the fast at your respective cities
• You can fast at your workplace
• And if none of that is possible, the one thing you can always do is spread the awareness around.

Pass the message on to your friends, relatives and colleagues.

Do your bit for a better country. Together we can make a difference.

Marriage-an overrated concept?

2011-03-24T17:05:00.022+05:30

R’ mom’s post on women’s web about marriage being an overrated institution and Hip Hop Grandma’s comment to that has certainly touched a chord in many of us evoking strong responses. (Warning-long post ahead)

The basis of many age-old customs and practices has become questionable in the light of changing time; so is the case with marriage, which is fast losing the sacred status it had once assumed. Hence the question of it being overrated arises. I don’t know whether it is overrated or underrated. I only know that everyone wants to get married-whether to conform to the societal norms or otherwise. It is like the saying-“shaadi ka laddoo-khaye woh pachtaye, na khaye woh pachtaye”. Even the utterly feminist (read men-basher) does marry. I think it is got to do with the perception of marriage. It is seen as the biggest milestone, only second to parenthood, in one’s life-especially that of a woman. No one really prepares you for the dynamics of marriage. It is rarely the “happily ever after” story. Also, today is the age of extremes. It is either my way or the highway. There are no in-between solutions to a debate.

My colleague S got married to A, her boyfriend of two years. S is a bubbly and vivacious girl who speaks her mind and likes her freedom. A is more of an introvert. Initially, they lived as a couple separately from A’s parents who also happened to live in the same town. Due to some reasons, A decided that they should be staying with his parents (obviously S’s opinion was overridden). S was somehow never herself with her in-laws. As I understood from our conversations, it was not as though A’s parents mistreated her or made her uncomfortable. She simply could not “adjust” to live amicably with an older generation. Many times she suggested to A that they could live close to his parents yet live separately as a couple. A, however, for reasons I don’t know, never agreed to it. S and I later parted ways and I came to know of her divorce through another common friend.

P, another close friend of mine, separated from her husband of 10 years, after two kids. We had somehow grown apart from each other by the time this happened and hence I do not know the entire story. However, I can make an educated guess. Theirs was a love marriage and they lived separately as a couple. P was-is a social butterfly who thrives on meeting other people. She had, a couple of years ago, landed herself with the job of an event manager-a role that fit her personality to perfection. She became a social figure in no time, meeting great legends from the entertainment field. Her work demanded a lot of time from her but she wasn’t complaining. She was clearly having a blast. Her husband, six years older to her, was a businessman and perhaps a typical husband who although wanted his wife to work, also didn’t want her to be away for long periods of time from home. I think this was the bone of contention in their marriage leading to the inevitable, 10 long years of togetherness and young kids notwithstanding.

In both the cases, the women in question are the epitome of a modern day woman. Neither faced any serious abuse or ill-treatment at the hands of their in-laws. Yet, the marriages fell apart. These days, divorce is not a taboo-at least with urban middle class families. If things do not work out to one’s expectation, the couple-both or either of them- does not hesitate to call it a day. On one hand there are scenarios where the couple jumps the gun at the first issue and on the other there instances where the woman is urged to put up despite serious compatibility issues.

Any relationship calls for compromises if it has to be nurtured. It is only when it comes to marriage that these compromises or adjustments are blown out of proportion. Here the gender bias is confused with the type of compromises involved. We have been-and are to a large extent even today- a patriarchal society. It cannot be denied that, in India, a woman is married into the boy’s family but the vice-versa is not true. It is still “expected” of the woman to call her acquired parents as “amma” and “appa” but the man is “not expected” to do so. If they do (I do know of some men who address their parents-in-laws as amma and appa. Of course their number is far less than the ones who do not feel comfortable doing so.), they are “appreciated” while if they don’t, they are “understood”. Why isn’t the same discomfort that can be felt by the woman understood? If the husband does not feel like visiting his in-laws, it is OK but if the situation is the other way round, the wife is made to feel guilty for being selfish and is asked to come along nevertheless. These are considered minor issues and the mind is asked to be conditioned to “ignore” such things. Unfortunately, again, only the woman is expected to condition her mind and ignore.

I feel this is a period of transition where the women have risen in protest to the old ways of society. Till the time men continue to have the upper hand in terms of compromises and adjustments, there will be extremities. Eventually hope, faith and trust will be restored to this age-old institution called marriage. I do hope it happens.

P.S.- After reading the comments on my post above, I got the feeling that perhaps I have not come across I way I intended to. I was merely stating that there are instances where people jump the gun at the first instance of discomfort in a marriage and there are cases where women are made to go through hell in the name of adjustment and family honour. Both are uncalled for. Here, the debate was if marriage will lose its significance and its very existence in future. Hence my take is- in a relationship there is some amount of give and take and if we want to safe-guard this insitution, we (as a couple) need to work on the relationship while valuing each other's rights.

Are we a free country? Are we really a democratic nation?

2011-03-15T14:46:00.000+05:30

We all read about the recent civil revolution in Egypt and Libya, which the civilians went against the military governance of 30 odd years (successfully in the former and not so far in the latter). We lauded and cheered the people of both countries for their fearless and persistent struggle for their rights. We spoke at lengths about how each country should be a democratic one and how people should wage a war against unjust and extreme rulers. Closer home, do we really spend so much thought as to- are we free?

We are a democratic and independent country, sure, but sadly only on paper. We are worse off today than we were during the colonial rule. At least they were not one of us. Today, although, we are governed (deceived) by our own people (under influence of some foreigner?), we really cannot truly call ourselves a progressed or progressing nation. Sure enough we have progressed in some spheres but in the light of corroded values in the form of corruption, red-tapeism and nepotism, we still have a long long way to go.

Each day a new scam exposes a shameful state of affairs in almost every sphere of occupation. Black-money is stashed away in the tax havens of Swiss banks by leaders, corporate and influential individuals who have been squandering away hard-earned money of common public in broad daylight. The aam admi is struggling hard to meet ends even as he is battling inflation, bad civic management, poor economic policies, heavy and multiple taxes. Housing prices are on a perpetual high making the basic necessity a mirage for many. Most residential areas are reeling under water shortage and poor sanitation conditions. Women call themselves empowered and liberated today. Are they truly so? Every day, some woman is stalked, threatened, raped, brutally murdered, molested, or just subjected to some other kinds of sexual harassment that may be equally humiliating and disturbing. Girl child is still not welcome in many so-called educated families too. We need not even mention the rural areas here. People obtain fake certificates and degrees without any difficulty, even in case where public life is at stake. The recent case of an Air-India pilot being caught with a fake degree underlines the risk and danger common people are being subject to. We even have fake doctors performing life-threatening operations. Education is a rare commodity for under-privileged children. The government, sure, boasts of having announced a reform granting right to education. Only that, the amount of school-drop-outs far exceeds the enrollments. Teachers are under-paid and not motivated enough to uphold the nobility of this profession. Corruption has seeped into every quarter making it so common that it is almost being brushed off as something that is a given and needs to be put up with.

Such mediocrity and apathy by governing bodies notwithstanding, we cheer the rising (grossly misinterpreted, I think) economic rate and build it to the levels of it being enough to take us on the road to be a super power. Cricket matches become a platform to promote patriotism. People become dumb enough to cheer up on a superficial feel-good factor created by the over-active media from time to time. The media itself is a biased body which is affiliated to respective political parties. The news is largely filtered, with the facts twisted to suit the larger interests of the party it (the channel) serves. The truth however can be tracked if one follows the internet carefully (thanks to private and not-so-private blogs maintained by politically aware citizens).

On a positive note, some states like Gujarat are doing enviously well. The Modi government contrary to what the media might like us to believe has truly done amazing work. Sadly not one news channel features a programme on this front. Facebook and Twitter triggered the civil revolution in Egypt and Libya. Will these be enough to awaken us from the slumber we are in? Are we, as a nation, ready to swallow the bitter pill necessary to cleanse our country and start afresh? Are we even willing to exercise our voting rights and vote the right person?

The Women In My Life

2011-03-11T19:40:00.000+05:30

Women’s web is hosting a “Feminspiration” contest to mark the 100th anniversary celebrations of International Women’s day. The contest requires an article to be written about any woman (en) who is an inspiration to others. As I pondered over which one great woman stands worthy to be saluted, my mind drew a blank. I could not single out any one particular figure. I realized that I need not look beyond the women who played a significant role in my life -my mother, my Grandmother, my sister and my maternal aunt. Sure, they have not cut a big name for themselves but they are all inspiring in their own way, each leading a different yet similar life; in bringing out the inner strength to live life with a smile on their face. I thank women’s web for giving me an opportunity to celebrate the women in my life.

My maternal grandmother is a person who can give tough competition to any woman-entrepreneur of today. She is ever enterprising, full of energy and ideas with a never-say-quit attitude. For a woman who although does not have a formal education, is very street-smart and knows the ways of the world. I envy her motivational power and wish many times that I had inherited this quality from her. Even at her age when one would be content letting others take charge of the housework, she is ever-eager to lend help in the kitchen and even enthusiastic about dishing out savouries and sweets that are tedious to prepare.

My mother balanced home and work with single-minded determination only so that we (my sister and I) could have a more comfortable childhood and could be offered the luxuries money could provide. We grew up under the watchful eyes and loving guidance of our grandparents (her parents). She missed our childhood and growing years not because she was a career woman but because she had to pitch in monetarily to the family kitty. In spite of being a working woman, she tended to all our needs-from taking care of our studies to cooking our favourite food to buying all that we asked for. She always gave us quality time during her working days.

My chitti (mother’s sister) is a second mother to me. She is a woman, who, in spite of all odds has faced life with quiet dignity. With my uncle spending long hours and sometimes days at a stretch at work, she spent a greater part of her youthful and married life single-handedly bringing up her only son. Being in a single-income household and with a nothing to boast about income, she saved every penny for the son’s future never caring for herself. A great cook and homemaker, she never shies from feeding large crowds-even strangers.

My sister is the ideal daughter, sister and wife all rolled into one; a fantastic multi-tasker and gifted person. A grounded person, she has always been a great support system during my low-phase in life. She does everything to perfection. With a travelling hubby, she single-handedly manages the finances, the home, plays parent to a demanding toddler, pursues her hobby and also socializes. They recently shifted to a new home and she was the sole person to make sure that the house took a ship-shape look, from supervising the site to coordinating the workers to making numerous calls to the interior decorator.

These are qualities that truly make a woman a class apart. In the daily grind, we somehow overlook and take these for granted. Whether as homemakers or working force, life is never easy for women. Three cheers to them and the entire women clan!

More wonder and a proud mom

2011-03-02T19:06:00.003+05:30

My little wonder can associate things so well at so young an age! He has about 20 words in his vocabulary list which, I learnt, is a little advanced for his age. He really attempts, and manages, to communicate in two-word phrases. When people say, ahem…, he is quite fast for a boy at this age, my heart swells to the size of a football. I know its’ too early to know but R does put two and two together many times to pleasantly surprise me. For example, I do read out a lot of board books-shapes, stories, vegetables, animals and the like. The other day he picked up a toy and said “ova”. Yes, it was an oval-shaped teether. Now, that he points to any other shape and says “ova” is a completely different story :-). But he did get it right the first time. He can “identify” many of the pictures when asked and also flip through the pages “pretending” to read. He can build a three to four block stack.

I generally do a video chat with my mom in the afternoons. Yesterday, as I switched on the p.c. for the session, R said “paat” (for paati-grandma). This was the first time he said the word. He sometimes walks about with his hands tied behind like adults. Now neither I nor my hubby has this habit.

His mischief-making skills are also getting honed by the day. Each day, a new antic. Since he is adept at climbing now, he tries his to apply his skill to every furniture above ground level. His new game is climbing onto our double-bed cot, head towards the switchboard and play around with the switches. He is constantly on his toes-I mean literally. Every item within (or without) his reach needs to be pushed to the farthest corner on the kitchen platform, utility racks, tables, etc. The house has been cleared of all the decorative pots ever since he began to move and has been rearranged multiple times since then in accordance with his mobility advancement. Speaking of activities, one thing he never tires of is opening the kitchen drawers and littering the entire house with spoons, vessels, mixer fittings, ya..you get it.

His peers are not quite doing the stuff he is doing. Again, I must add a disclaimer that I haven’t really met many kids (boys) around his age. I am just going by the comments I get and my general observation. I am not sure if my boy is showing some signs of being out of the ordinary and I cannot care less if he is just like any other child. I say this because, firstly, I know the pressure a child faces today to steer ahead of others in the rat race, to which I do not wish to accentuate. Secondly, such skills do average out as the kids grow older. So in a way, these early flashes of brilliance may mean nothing down the road. I only want him to have a normal and happy childhood. But that does not stop me from being a proud mom for now.