• Before The World Flipped Upside Down

    3 friends went on a quick trip. It was an extended-weekend kind of a trip. The respective husbands were either lackadaisical of their choice of destination or pooh-poohed it outright but these three were firm on a place and there they went!

    The families were semi-cautious about them traveling at a time when Covid was gradually becoming a buzzword but no one knew then what we know now how things would become. Back then it was meant to be a quick but not hurried trip, with like-minded people, to a place which has something for everyone and it was also meant to give ourselves a break from our families and day-to-day and give them a break from us in the bargain.

    In a nutshell? We had a GREAT time! We walked, talked, ate well, drank in sights, admired architecture, caught up with old pals, slept in beds without any smaller bodies smooshing in with us or stealing the sheets in the middle of the night. We walked back to our accommodation after midnight; a bit wary but knowing that this is the city that never sleeps. We danced, we club-hopped. We looked for paan with a vigor bordering on the obsessive and (re)discovered a city that everyone seems to know a lot about but doesn’t always know well.

    And because it was a trip where not a whole lot of expectations were pinned on, we had a better time than we expected. It was perfect in its own way. And it helped in weathering the lockdown that followed almost immediately after our return.

    What’s the moral of the story? NEVER underestimate a mother’s wish to put some distance between herself and her kid(s). Albeit lovingly.

  • Ultimately…What Is It That Matters?

    About a year and a half ago I was waiting at Barcelona airport, all agog for my first exposure to Spain. I was travelling to meet the bestie and this was to be the trip of a lifetime. It was all that and much more! But sitting in 2021 and seeing the things playing out around me, where I live and the world at large; these few snippets of memories came back to me.

    I’d booked my airport pick-up from a vendor that works around the globe and to my surprise, the gentleman who was coming to pick me up was called Banarasi. I was naturally curious and a bit relieved to find an Indian in a place so far away from home and completely unfamiliar outside books and movies.

    Turns out Mr.Banarasi was from Kashmir and had never been to Banaras. They had the last name Banarasi because the family originally hailed from there but had relocated to Kashmir and were Kashmiris for all practical purposes- angst and sadness included. That he was a Muslim, never came up in the conversation. It was evident from his first name. He was all praises for his new home, Barcelona, and spoke about the places I could visit and how the protests in Europe were saddening him because he felt they’d left that kind of a life behind when they left Indian shores. When he dropped me off at my hotel, he said Namaste and left-an Indian saying goodbye to an Indian. I don’t think he noticed I wasn’t of his religion or region.

    These days when I see some who take up the cause of religion like it is a sacred duty and consider anyone who has a contrary opinion as being a blasphemer or just someone to crush underneath their religious vigor, it worries and upsets me. My father belongs to a family of people who were utterly and completely displaced by the Partition. Some key members from my mother’s family felt the backlash of the religious tensions of the Partition. During the 1984 Delhi Riots, my family gave shelter to a individual who used to ply his cabs in the city and my father and other men of our neighborhood took up a neighbourhood watch that lasted for a few days. Majority of the people in our neighborhood were from my hometown in the Eastern part of India and had settled down in New Delhi. None were from the faith of the people being attacked either.

    In February 2002, my train passed by Godhra an hour before the Sabarmati Express was set on fire and my roommate and hostel mates were people from Godhra who had to bear the less than muted whispers about their community while walked the halls of our hostel. We were in lockdown even then with Section 144 imposed across the city and no end in sight of the violence that was spreading.

    My interview for a job in a hospital in South Mumbai was deferred for a few hours since the doctor who was to interview me was held up, in rounds and the crazy Mumbai traffic. I was already on my way when I got the news and headed back home only to find out there was a blackout of the cellphones and the news of the bomb blast in the city. Panic and pandemonium prevailed. And still it didn’t occur to me to blame religion. Because it’s not religion’s fault how people choose to interpret it.

    I like the vastness of the Hindu religion, the myths, allegories, temple architectures etc but I dislike having it thrust upon me as a way to prove “how much” of a Hindu I can be and I am. Red somehow, also comes from a family which respects each others’ faiths and doesn’t put on a show about their rites, rituals and beliefs. I said somehow because we are fairly different in how we approach our lives and definitely in our upbringing. We also belong to two completely different parts of the country and each one has enough of God-fearing people in the main and extended family.

    We have also told TO not to dissect religion because it’s too vast, too old and intricate to be neatly pigeonholed. Before he was born Red and I decided on many things, pertaining to his upbringing and living in India, a child needs to have a stance on religion since the question gets posted to him/her before long. We told him could take take solace from the commonly-held belief of there being a Being who watches over us all. That is, if he so chooses to. If he chooses to be more scientific in his outlook and opts for things he can empirically understand; more power to him.

    Why this sudden serious and long-ish post? Well…in this day in age, I think relying on a sense of community is what may get us through the vagaries of life and not just the ways prescribed by certain people who feel they are alone “in the know” of how members of a particular group ought to behave and what they ought to believe.

    Might go a long way in easing the turbulence in our minds and in our society.

    L’Chaim

  • Home Is Where the Hammer Is…

    Red and I got married 14 years ago and he was living in a pretty compact apartment in the city, close to where he used to work back in the day. It was a rental, we had very little furniture and tried to make it a cozy space with some brightly coloured cushions, sheets and a few paintings on the wall. But for the most part it wasn’t a place we were terribly enthu about living in long term.

    We lived there for a few months and moved into our first home- along with a mortgage, luggage and added on books, some things here and there and a kid. It was an overall peaceful albeit a slightly dull life in patches. I say in patches because once TO arrived, we forgot what it was like to have time to think about life before kids.

    I was still working a regular 9-5 back then and Red’s always been WORKING so the house was literally a crash pad and for living over the weekends. We entertained very little and it came alive once the brat was born. It was then his domain entirely!

    In the fag end of circa 2013 we moved to the current place we live in now. This is our own place too and we moved in with slightly lesser number of books, more kiddy stuff, yet another mortgage and a spring in our steps. We’ve really been living it up here compared to how our lives where in the old house. Each one of us has friends, a well-define social circle but we’ve also had enough of run-ins with hammers, chisels, building, breaking and rebuilding stuff too. TO is so firmly ensconced here that any sign of any change, even it is something he likes later on, gets on his nerves.

    After 7 years of living here, we felt the place needed some upgrades, mostly functional changes, nothing major but changes nonetheless and those began yesterday. We have a good friend who has a very good eye for design, optimisation of space and aesthetics overall and she’s drawn up a few things that Red and I are quite kicked about. But to TO, it’s just a bunch of people coming into his space to break things, make the place look unfamiliar and he’s not a happy camper. He’s looking at people coming into his house to make changes and even if those changes are to take out shelves where we were storing junk, he wants it kept int toto- no change, nothing, NADA!

    When I tried to show him the 3D renditions that were shown to us about the proposed changes he sniffed, turned his nose up at it and said that doesn’t look like our house at all. So I let him be. In another day or so he’ll see the biggest advantage to having workers around for most of the day- his parents being busier than ever and not being able to keep an eagle eye on him and whether he’s actually in his classes or in a galaxy far, far away…beatboxing away to his heart’s content.

    Note: That’s the new fad and he’s pretty decent at memorising the songs he’s seen online and singing them word for word. This is the same child who routinely forgets to do at least one part of a two-part job on a daily basis…SIGH

    But stay tuned for more home improvement pictures…and now I must away for there is a cup of tea with my name on it and I want to enjoy it while the brat and his father slumber deeply. There’s a tree where the leaves and the drying pods of the fruit rustle in the leaves and it’s very soothing and almost hypnotic in the darkness. It’s a while before it’ll be sunrise and the neighbors are awakening, starting their morning walks and in a few hours there’ll be some more banging of hammers along the gripes of child who’s suddenly grown an attachment to wooden shelves and there’ll be me- drinking coffee and counting days till she runs her hands over every single new inch of her home that she’ll spend the rest of her life trying to keep clean.

    Cheers!

  • Muddled up Monday

    After a looong time is Monday living up to its manic reputation. Since the advent of online classes, all the weekdays have blended- one into the other. The weekends are distinguishable since I’m less of a fire-breathing dragon then. On Saturdays and Sundays, am just a dragon who wants coffee, a head massage, some more coffee, some beer or maybe some wine, a Kindle and a bed all to myself. They may be a tiny spurt of fire from time to time but I can neither confirm nor deny that with certainty.

    Today started on a wonky note. TO had to go for his early morning cricket coaching but he chose not to. That was conveyed to both Red and I only after we woke up at 5:20 am to wake him up. Kids..whaddyagonnado?!

    He had an assembly online and due to scratchy noises from everyone else who was logging in, he spent most of his time with either a scrunched up face or the volume on waay low and acting like his world was coming to an abrupt end. On most days however, he acts like Atlas who wishes he could shrug and shrug good!

    Anyhoo, between sheepdogging him back to his classes, co-orindating with the people who’re starting our renovation work, talking to the guy who came to deliver the cylinder, sorting out issues with the maintenance help desk, getting the sofa measurements done by the upholstery guy and ultimately making sure that TO eats/ate and isn’t taking any unsanctioned time off due to Red and I being busier than usual, this day’s been busier than Mondays have been in a long time.

    It might even end up being one of my rare 3-cup Java Mondays!!!

    Haven’t had those in a while. But wait, the evening cricket class, homework and the clean-up at home is still remaining…might have to stretch it to a four-cuppa-joe. Oh Mercy!

  • A Look At The Way Things Could’ve Been

    We are a one-child family. I come from a single-child family while Red has a sibling. My dad has numerous siblings and my mom has two. I’ve gotten pitying looks on and off while I was growing up, about being a “single, only, lonely” child. And I’ve smiled to myself because that’s not all that being an only child’s cracked up to be.

    It mainly bites being an only child when you’re in trouble and you can’t get away with blaming it on your dolls. I tried that when I was chubby and cute and got way for with it only because I was chubby, cute and a toddler.

    Those things land you in the shrink’s office when it’s done at an age when the whole world, including you, knows that dolls can’t talk back, move or mess with your parents’ record player set. The Annabelles and Chuckys of the world are no help when it comes to convincing parents.

    Fast-forward to the decade we’re in now and I’ve been told SO MANY TIMES that I ought to have a second child else my single, only child won’t grow up properly. Or that TO will need someone as a playmate and again the litany of “an only child, is a lonely child” yada yada yada. But over the last few days I got to live out the scenarios of having 2 children and it was illuminating.

    For the most part TO is happy to have younger kids, especially girls, over at our place. They’re cute, they follow him around, call him an “older brother” and usually do what he says. They won’t mess with his dinos, aren’t too interested in his books and for the most part, aren’t competition. Till now.

    We have, as a part of our extended family, a chubby little bossy pants. She’s utterly cuddlable, is very clear about what she wants and is very expressive. She also bodyslams herself onto prone bodies and not being a lightweight, it can be a startling experience when a little butterball just jumps on you with a move worthy of Wrestlemania. She’s also curious, very talkative and consents to sitting still while you do her hair, sing, play and do slightly more sedentary things. Sitting still with TO wasn’t something I remember doing much once he mastered standing up.

    So Saturday night I have two kids who are vying for viewing rights on the telly. One wants a space cartoon and another wants a British piggy and her family. Both are communicating LOUDLY, SIMULTANEOUSLY and at ME. Both want to be heard and catered to. Immediately! Red is NOWHERE in the picture, having locked himself into the only other room that has a t.v. Each one is making frown faces and doesn’t want to compromise. Miss Bossypants comes upto me and gets in my face and says she wants Peppa Pig! Emphatically!

    Pre-teen brat sits on the couch and complains that Bossypants always gets what she wants because she’s younger. And BAM! a vision of what my life could’ve been played out in front of my eyes. And while it isn’t unpleasant I don’t like being stared down by a cute albeit grumpy face that promises retribution for not being allowed to watch a goody two-shoes animated pig.

    One kid who leaves extinct reptiles all over and who is responsible for sofa cleaners fishing out a series of shark miniatures from under the cushions is enough excitement for me any day! Any and all kids who want to come into mi casa, will be strictly on a timeshare basis!

  • Halfway To Healthy Living
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    Yup, you read that one correctly. It’s a halfway, half-hearted or even half-assed attempt at living healthy with yours truly. Not because I don’t care enough…hang on…I’m not entirely sure I do. Intensely care, that is. But since I drop the ball so often, I have to take a good, hard look at myself and admit it- I’m fairly MEH when it come to being healthy in a holistic manner.

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    I have all the intentions in the world- walking my glutes off, with the right kind of arch-support shoes no less. Eating well…ok..I ALWAYS eat well; I just don’t always eat healthily.

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    I don’t turn my up nose up at soups and salads nor do I mind smaller portions or boiled and blanched stuff as opposed to the fried, creamed and au gratined eats but at my soul am a meat’n’potatoes gal who does think of food in terms of lamb chops, BLTs and ribeyes.

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    However, when I briefly do get on the healthy bandwagon I go at it fairly thoroughly. I watch the portions I eat, I eat healthier overall and I’m very diligent about keeping a track of things like using a food diary, avoiding fried stuff and go off alcohol as well. I monitor my water intake, sleep cycles, BPM and my Fitbit becomes a near constant…and then it comes to a grinding halt!

    Image result for healthy body healthy mind

    I’m not entirely sure what to call it- an innate laziness or just a personality type who doesn’t want to work harder than is needed but I do appreciate the notion of fitness and good health beyond the theoretical part.

    As a woman in her 40s and one who is still not done raising a child; it’s imperative to maintain good health because stressors keep increasing daily and good physical health greatly promotes mental health as well. And I don’t mean mental illness but increases the mental agility to take things in one’s stride, the strength of mind to decide on issues- big and small and most importantly, bounce back and look ahead.

    So the faltering journey is on, yet again; dotted with toned milk and berry smoothies, grilled salmon and tons of green crunchy stuff. Music is being chosen carefully to promote more footfalls and one day soon, the yoga mat will get rolled out again and the Galactic Ameba willing, I’ll even do planks and crunches.

    Of course the moment I start setting increased goals on the Fitbit my mind says

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  • Chronicles Of A Mom In A Car#1

    Mothers spend a lot of time waiting for their children. Starting with the actual birth itself, then the latching on, followed by the weaning off, the all-important toilet training, eating solids, walking, talking, running and then the slow and inevitable process of growing up. And lest I forget…the UBER-important…the falling asleep.

    Over the past few years, I’ve spent a lot of time waiting for TO to wind up with classes/sessions of something or the other and then we head home. I don’t always have the comfort or inclination of a nice waiting area each time around so my default waiting room becomes the car. And for a short round woman, a car can be a very comfortable place to be in.

    Incline the chair a bit, take a sip of your carry-along espresso, smoothie, soft drink (cough cough- we’re supposed to be eating healthy) and you have your own little queendom where blissful silence reigns and so does the ability to do whatever you feel like- for those 45 minutes to an hour.

    I’ve read books in utter silence, I’ve headbanged to songs, I’ve had marathon calls with friends and family, caught up with old friends, churned out blog posts, binged-watched my favourite serials and most importantly- had time to think.

    Now don’t get me wrong, I think a lot. A LOT. But at home when there are things happening around you all the time, the thinking becomes very guided. Transactional even. In the cocoon of your car, the thinking just brims over and flows rampant and a lot of decisions get taken then- right from the dinner menu to taking a stance about issues in life. And those are some solid decisions that get taken.

    Yesterday while I was waiting for the fresh and blood to decompress from his day-long online classes and wield his cricket bat like the stylish cricketer he thinks he is; I was on a trip down Retro Lane. Retro Lane is chockfull of Retro Music- rock, R&B, ballads, pop and what have you. And this song came up-

    A lot of time has been spent sighing, pining, staring into space and smiling over this song…it’s been an anthem of sorts from the college days when crushes had more of a scope to flourish and when “heartbreak” was equally rampant amongst the newly minted young adults. It’s too bad Cutting Crew never got around to anything else that became as lasting as this song but it’ll do for me and my ilk. We have memories galore associated with it and that’s a good thing to look back at sitting in my 40s…

    So crank up the volume and explore your own Retro Lane! Who knows what forgotten treasures will come up!

  • Discussions on life and beyond

    TO’s ideas about life and death are shaped quite a bit by the things he sees online. And since he sees more grown- up content these days vis-a-vis Mickey Mouse Club House, Noddy et al, death is portrayed more in the Occidental way than it is the Oriental or Indian way. He’s seen characters who visit graves of their loved ones and thinks that’s the way we roll too. Of course, till now he’s been lucky to not lose anyone he really loves.

    Last evening the topic of me and Red not being there came up. Dunno how exactly but it might have arisen out of the talk about TO growing up and doing things more by himself without our help or our supervision. And when he gets going about the future he paints a very elaborate picture. It’s seldom a few things mentioned offhand; it’s always a well-etched scenario.

    So yesterday TO started off by saying, “When you and P die I’ll have to do things on my own. But I’ll visit your graves and let you know how I’m doing.” Instead of going “awww” I told him a bit tersely (I was in the middle of a challenging puzzle) that “we wouldn’t be buried because we’d be cremated as per our religion. To that the answer came, “I wouldn’t burn you!! (horrified tone). I’ll bury you so you’ll always be there and I’ll put flowers on your grave and if you become ghosts you’ll have a place to go back to after you come see how I’m doing.”

    This kind of long-term logistical planning really needs a pat on the back.

  • And Poof! It was gone…

    I really don’t like pigeons. They are nature’s poop-factories and the bane of statues everywhere. They’re like these neurotic birds who keep walking in circles, bobbing their heads while they lay their dumb eggs everywhere they aren’t supposed to be building a nest and then pooping around it as well. Stupid birds.

    The parapet outside TO’s room is guano-central and possibly a pigeon graveyard. There have been quite a few dead chicks there over the last year and wouldn’t you know it; the adult birds just keep doing their weird walk and keep walking over the decomposing body. Talk about being stoic!

    I’ve never seen a pigeon catch a caterpillar, eat a spider or even a house lizard. All those useful things are done by eagle-eyed owls, raptors and other non-stupid birds. But pigeons will dance around, poop, dance around again and then fly off. Their version of Eat, Pray, Love could very well be

    Anyhoo, the reason for my tirade is that I was driving down the road where right from the people to the stray dogs all moved away but two pigeons were doing their round’n’round zombie walk. I honked and expected to see a flurry of wings but instead there was a puff of feathers in the driver’s side window. And then there was a lump in the road…with another bird still going on its merry circular way.

    I have never killed anything barring mosquitoes and a few bugs here and there and as much as I dislike those poopsters, I didn’t want to run one over either.

    Aaargh. Stupid neck-jerking, feather-shedding, statue-defiling feathery puffs!

  • Motherhood Bloglet

    I’m a mother…ergo I facepalm. Royally!

    My child, adorable tailless monkey that he is, is still prone to doing things ass backwards plenty of times. When he was a baby he’d bite off the bottom of his ice cream cone and then rush to suck up the swiftly flowing ice cream that was melting all over him. In the process he’d get a brain freeze from the cold. Another joy of motherhood.

    Also, it took him a while to find out why he shouldn’t bite off the bottom of the cone…and each time the same expression of surprise would pop up on his face; seeing the ice cream flow away…sheesh.

    As a bigger baby these days, he eats the shawarma roll from both ends and wonders why the mayo and fillings keep dropping all over him. I mean…seriously?!

    And then when he gets a dirty or perplexed from moi he gives me the universal look all kids are born with viz

    Arrow Going Right Gif | Arrow pointing right, Animation in photoshop, Gif  animated images