One day, God gave her a mirror. An unusual mirror it was. On it, she could see how others saw her. She only had to think of that person and alas!, she would find a new her on the mirror...
She thought of her mother..
And in the mirror, she saw the happily smiling toddler that she was... years ago..
For a mother, a child remains a child, forever...
She thought of her child..
And in the mirror, she saw herself dressed as an angel, holding her treasure, close to her bosom..
For a child, her mother is the angel from the other world, who bore her, fed her and loves her with her life...
She thought of her man..
And in the mirror, she saw the smiling, yet deceptive self of her..the calm of the oceans, the beauty of a storm and the mysteries of the life yet to be lived..
For the man, his woman is an unsolved mystery, who excites and baffles him at the same time, whom he would love as if there is no tomorrow and also, once in a while, would hate as if he does not want a tomorrow..
Finally, she thought of herself..
And in the mirror, she saw them all...
For the woman, she is what her world makes her...her love, her dreams and herself...
PS: I know this is a crazy one...but today I stood in front of a mirror and then I wanted something crazy :)
Sunday, October 30, 2011
Friday, October 14, 2011
The Amorist and I...
I have to thank him, that kind man whom I met yesterday and whom under all probabilities, I would never meet again. I still remember the smile as he passed on the many bottles of deodorants that he had stacked on the shelf behind him since his shop started functioning, possibly wondering if I was a crazy collector of outdated brands of deodorants!
Now please don't ask me why I went there. Fate does not always leave you with too many answers, does it? I was out for a walk on a beautiful evening that was yesterday and suddenly remembered that my most cherished deodorant was wailing in its final moments of utilization every time I squeezed the nozzle. I got into the nearest shop and the above mentioned gentleman displayed his 'historic' possessions infront of me. There were many familiar brands infact, but all those were patronizing the darker sex (if females are the fairer sex, the male counterparts have to be the darker ones!). And then he dug out this black bottle with a cool green lining which held the title 'The Amorist'. I can't really blame him for the most stupid decision that I had taken as a consumer in the last 27 years, can I? Well, it is true that he was chattering so much that I could not get a chance to read what was written. Neither did it help that he considered the items in his shop to be better than those in the 'new found, lifeless shopping malls' as he put it. Oh, he did not allow testing the deos either, which is normal. I don't remember having told him at any point that the deo was for my brother or husband or for that matter, any guy. Anyways, I was lured in to buying this fabulous bottle of 'Set Wet Amorist' deodorant for men!.
Now, where were my brains? What was I thinking? Hadn't I seen those horrendous ads of a cute guy holding a bottle of this despicable specimen of deodorant and 3 females writhing in pleasure over the sheer joy of watching him spray it over his six-pack? Did it say anywhere that the scantily clad females had used it too? And didn't the ad clearly mentionSet Wet Deos for men?. It so happened that, until today morning, my brains were out somewhere, playing poker with its friends.
The moment I applied the new deo today morning, I knew I was stinking. Miraculously, at this point, my brains came back after the game and I thought of taking a look at the bottle I held. Bad news, this is how it read,
"Get Set Wet Style, Get Very, Very Sexy!!( Well, no complaints so far)
New Set Wet Style Amorist is the perfect lady killer(Shittttttttt!!!)
Its enticing, seductive and works brilliantly without you having to try too
hard(Yeah, sure, I was already stinking like I jumped in to a deodorant cauldron)
Spray it on and let yourself loose(I am already finding it difficult to breath
and loosening my non existent tie)
There will be plenty who would die for an encounter with you(That was bad news!!, could not really imagine a bunch of girls flocking around me, looking for the guy!!
Since I didn't have the time to change or better even, take a bath and wash away my sins, I proceeded to the class with the abomination sprayed all over me. Was I imagining it or was it really happening? I can bet that there were atleast half a dozen ladies hovering around me, sniffing hard! Field day for my neighbor Shushant, uh, don't thank me dear friend, its all in the game. Apparently, some guys to whom I never really talked also came to talk to me today. Now, what am I to conclude from that? Should I doubt my reputation or their orientation?
Anyways, after my first and last day of being drenched in a male deodorant, I can't say that I hated it or anything. The odor is a little too strong for my liking, but it is good! On a man, it might even be seductive. So its my husband Rajeev or my brother Vishnu who would be the lucky ones who would be gifted with this particular green bottle. On second thoughts, Rajeev would not get it. A man smelling much too delicious in the deo that his wife gifted him, might seriously affect our plans of a happily ever after. So it is my brother. Oh, do I see him jumping on to a open geep with 5 females, all dying to grab and bite him? Well, that is how the deo ads these days are, aren't they? An artificial substance applied to the body to affect body odor caused by bacterial growth and the smell associated with bacterial breakdown of perspiration in armpits (in short, helps you to not stink like a pig) has now been portrayed as a Weapon of Mass Seduction? Oh my, and I end up buying the wrong brand!!!
Now please don't ask me why I went there. Fate does not always leave you with too many answers, does it? I was out for a walk on a beautiful evening that was yesterday and suddenly remembered that my most cherished deodorant was wailing in its final moments of utilization every time I squeezed the nozzle. I got into the nearest shop and the above mentioned gentleman displayed his 'historic' possessions infront of me. There were many familiar brands infact, but all those were patronizing the darker sex (if females are the fairer sex, the male counterparts have to be the darker ones!). And then he dug out this black bottle with a cool green lining which held the title 'The Amorist'. I can't really blame him for the most stupid decision that I had taken as a consumer in the last 27 years, can I? Well, it is true that he was chattering so much that I could not get a chance to read what was written. Neither did it help that he considered the items in his shop to be better than those in the 'new found, lifeless shopping malls' as he put it. Oh, he did not allow testing the deos either, which is normal. I don't remember having told him at any point that the deo was for my brother or husband or for that matter, any guy. Anyways, I was lured in to buying this fabulous bottle of 'Set Wet Amorist' deodorant for men!.
Now, where were my brains? What was I thinking? Hadn't I seen those horrendous ads of a cute guy holding a bottle of this despicable specimen of deodorant and 3 females writhing in pleasure over the sheer joy of watching him spray it over his six-pack? Did it say anywhere that the scantily clad females had used it too? And didn't the ad clearly mentionSet Wet Deos for men?. It so happened that, until today morning, my brains were out somewhere, playing poker with its friends.
The moment I applied the new deo today morning, I knew I was stinking. Miraculously, at this point, my brains came back after the game and I thought of taking a look at the bottle I held. Bad news, this is how it read,
"Get Set Wet Style, Get Very, Very Sexy!!( Well, no complaints so far)
New Set Wet Style Amorist is the perfect lady killer(Shittttttttt!!!)
Its enticing, seductive and works brilliantly without you having to try too
hard(Yeah, sure, I was already stinking like I jumped in to a deodorant cauldron)
Spray it on and let yourself loose(I am already finding it difficult to breath
and loosening my non existent tie)
There will be plenty who would die for an encounter with you(That was bad news!!, could not really imagine a bunch of girls flocking around me, looking for the guy!!
Since I didn't have the time to change or better even, take a bath and wash away my sins, I proceeded to the class with the abomination sprayed all over me. Was I imagining it or was it really happening? I can bet that there were atleast half a dozen ladies hovering around me, sniffing hard! Field day for my neighbor Shushant, uh, don't thank me dear friend, its all in the game. Apparently, some guys to whom I never really talked also came to talk to me today. Now, what am I to conclude from that? Should I doubt my reputation or their orientation?
Anyways, after my first and last day of being drenched in a male deodorant, I can't say that I hated it or anything. The odor is a little too strong for my liking, but it is good! On a man, it might even be seductive. So its my husband Rajeev or my brother Vishnu who would be the lucky ones who would be gifted with this particular green bottle. On second thoughts, Rajeev would not get it. A man smelling much too delicious in the deo that his wife gifted him, might seriously affect our plans of a happily ever after. So it is my brother. Oh, do I see him jumping on to a open geep with 5 females, all dying to grab and bite him? Well, that is how the deo ads these days are, aren't they? An artificial substance applied to the body to affect body odor caused by bacterial growth and the smell associated with bacterial breakdown of perspiration in armpits (in short, helps you to not stink like a pig) has now been portrayed as a Weapon of Mass Seduction? Oh my, and I end up buying the wrong brand!!!
Tuesday, October 11, 2011
Its complicated!
I still haven't been able to understand what it means when some one gives his/her relationship status as 'Its complicated'. Its particularly funny when the profile in question belongs to a 17 year old. And more so because all relationships inevitably are complicated, irrespective of your age, sex or sexual orientation!
From how I understand it, 'Its complicated' can mean the following. I am taking a male as my sample specimen for this study for the obvious reason though all the below points apply equally to females too!
1. You are in a state of indecision as to whether you are actually in love or not. I am being too optimistic here, but in most of the cases, it's your partner who is in this particular dilemma. You cannot spit it out because there is a chance of a 'Yes' somewhere in the distant horizon. You cannot swallow it either because the horizon seems to be a few tiny light years away from the Milky way.
2. Another possibility of the above mentioned complication could be due to the presence of more than one female in the frame and our shy groom is out there in the sun, holding a garland, wondering which one to choose. Please don't assume that our 17 year old is being chased by an axe mob of females, its more like him chasing them. The count of the females can go up to any number and as it goes up, the complexity of 'Its complicated' shoots up too, following a parabolic curve.
3. Yet more disastrous is it when there are more than one guy lingering around a single female. Of these, one has to be a villain and the other has to be a hero, Bollywood style and yes, the hero would always get the girl. Now, you are not able to decide whether you are the hero or the best man at the wedding.
4. More often than not 'Its complicated' is an open invite. I am free and I am available and I can give up what I am into currently because you are important. So why not just single and why Its complicated?. Market value!! Remember, the utility of a commodity follows its demand curve. Or is it the other way round? Well, I don't know, just apply a little commonsense here ;).
5. I must give credit to some for whom it really is complicated. Issues at home, trouble with the relation as such, uninvited interference of a third person and so on.. I do wish that you would soon be able to transform your status to Marrried/Engaged or if it suits you, to being Single.
Relations are tricky. The relation status is just another fancy word, being Single does not make you ready to mingle, being Committed does not make you a Romeo ready to die for his Juilet and being Its complicated does not make it any more complicated or simple than it really is!!
So be ready to sing,
You brought your worst and I’m right here
Now I've seen it all, and it’s never been so clear
Laa laa laaa.....
From how I understand it, 'Its complicated' can mean the following. I am taking a male as my sample specimen for this study for the obvious reason though all the below points apply equally to females too!
1. You are in a state of indecision as to whether you are actually in love or not. I am being too optimistic here, but in most of the cases, it's your partner who is in this particular dilemma. You cannot spit it out because there is a chance of a 'Yes' somewhere in the distant horizon. You cannot swallow it either because the horizon seems to be a few tiny light years away from the Milky way.
2. Another possibility of the above mentioned complication could be due to the presence of more than one female in the frame and our shy groom is out there in the sun, holding a garland, wondering which one to choose. Please don't assume that our 17 year old is being chased by an axe mob of females, its more like him chasing them. The count of the females can go up to any number and as it goes up, the complexity of 'Its complicated' shoots up too, following a parabolic curve.
3. Yet more disastrous is it when there are more than one guy lingering around a single female. Of these, one has to be a villain and the other has to be a hero, Bollywood style and yes, the hero would always get the girl. Now, you are not able to decide whether you are the hero or the best man at the wedding.
4. More often than not 'Its complicated' is an open invite. I am free and I am available and I can give up what I am into currently because you are important. So why not just single and why Its complicated?. Market value!! Remember, the utility of a commodity follows its demand curve. Or is it the other way round? Well, I don't know, just apply a little commonsense here ;).
5. I must give credit to some for whom it really is complicated. Issues at home, trouble with the relation as such, uninvited interference of a third person and so on.. I do wish that you would soon be able to transform your status to Marrried/Engaged or if it suits you, to being Single.
Relations are tricky. The relation status is just another fancy word, being Single does not make you ready to mingle, being Committed does not make you a Romeo ready to die for his Juilet and being Its complicated does not make it any more complicated or simple than it really is!!
So be ready to sing,
You brought your worst and I’m right here
Now I've seen it all, and it’s never been so clear
Laa laa laaa.....
Sunday, October 9, 2011
The walk together
I met Rajeev P S Nair on May 24th, 2008. We had talked a couple of times before we met, as we waited for the formalities of the arranged marriage to be negotiated. Once the horoscopes matched and the families were satisfied, we met in Bangalore. Our wedding was fixed on June 1, we got engaged on June 29th and got married on August 28th, all in the same year.
Like any other couple, we have had our ups and downs. There were a million things that we accomplished together, and there were moments when we considered being together as the gravest mistake ever committed by any human being on Earth. I had a talk with one of my friends yesterday and he was asking me why I was so withdrawn these days. He could not understand why I could not break free and have fun with people. I could not understand it either. He gave me a simple solution. He asked me to think about what was it in my relation with Rajeev that holds us together inspite of the distance. It was definitely not just the commitment of being married and having a child together. It was much more than that. It was the attempt to find that bond that led me to write this particular blog. I was skimming through all the snaps we had taken ever since we met and each of these photos share a story. I still haven't found out what I was looking for in the beginning of this exercise, maybe it was never meant to be found!
This was taken on the day our wedding was fixed. After the horoscopes matched, both of us were hoping that everything would work out. Our families had only seen our photographs and as with all arranged marriages, there were some complications here and there. On this particular day, we were walking across Bangalore city, receiving regular updates from my brother about the discussions that were going on between the parents and at one moment he messaged me, Congrats guys, you are going to be married!!! The photo was more or less an outcome of that happiness :)
Engagement is technically the best moment ever. You are legally entitled to date without any other bonds of marriage attached! I would say I had loads of fun on this particular day. My friends from Mysore added to the happiness. And the general consensus was that I looked pretty! But ofcourse, he looked smashing!!
Life between engagement and wedding for us were not really the perfect courting period as it usually is. We had differences to sort out, and it was a period of eating out all we could and gaining several kgs! My brother still remarks that I looked ugly at that time because of all the extra flesh. Well, take a look at me now and say that again!
In Chottanikkara temple, thaalikettu
Man and wife!
I promise I would take good care of your daughter, yeah, and i will manage her furious temper(!!!)
Where is my wife??. I think he looks extra handsome in this one!
Yeah!! There she is!!!
The beginning of the walk together....
The photo shoot begins!!
Can we call it a day? Hungry, Sweaty and Tired!!!
First day as Mrs Rajeev P S Nair
Another day in the estate of Udumbanchola
Our first car together. This was a Wagon R: KA 51- P- 8260. Rajeev named the car as Raman Kutty, Wagon Raman Kutty. Raman Kutty was with us through many beautiful memories. Selling him off after we relocated to Kerala was truly a painful moment!! Somewhere in the records though, he still belongs to us. We once got a mail saying that Raman Kutty's owner violated some traffic rules somewhere!
Around the first wedding anniversary!
In our flat in Bangalore where we made a life together!
After one year of marriage, we realized that a new person was coming to our life. It was all thrill, excitement and longingness. At the point when we didn't know if it would be a boy or a girl, we called the baby 'Thakkudu'. Tracking Thakkudu's schedule of the day was the main agenda of our life. Through the morning sickness, throwing up inside the car and all the blues, we waited for Thakkudu to come! After some really killing moments, we got Thakkudu and then we knew that Thakkudu was Siddhi!
Dad holding his daughter for the first time. He was so scared to do this! That his Kung Fu hands might hurt her baby skin!
The day she became Siddhi. She was so tiny, no one could believe that she was my daughter!
Second wedding anniversary.
Siddhi's choroonu in Chollalkaavu Devi Temple
Siddhi's first birthday! She was all grumpy and uncomfortable because of all the attention.
A recent photograph.
We may not be prefect for each other. I don't think anyone in this world could be perfect for anyone else. But we have made a life together. And our small world is as beautiful as we would make it. Thanks for the life, for moving through those moments when I was as bad as anyone could ever get !!!!
Like any other couple, we have had our ups and downs. There were a million things that we accomplished together, and there were moments when we considered being together as the gravest mistake ever committed by any human being on Earth. I had a talk with one of my friends yesterday and he was asking me why I was so withdrawn these days. He could not understand why I could not break free and have fun with people. I could not understand it either. He gave me a simple solution. He asked me to think about what was it in my relation with Rajeev that holds us together inspite of the distance. It was definitely not just the commitment of being married and having a child together. It was much more than that. It was the attempt to find that bond that led me to write this particular blog. I was skimming through all the snaps we had taken ever since we met and each of these photos share a story. I still haven't found out what I was looking for in the beginning of this exercise, maybe it was never meant to be found!
Life between engagement and wedding for us were not really the perfect courting period as it usually is. We had differences to sort out, and it was a period of eating out all we could and gaining several kgs! My brother still remarks that I looked ugly at that time because of all the extra flesh. Well, take a look at me now and say that again!
In Chottanikkara temple, thaalikettu
Man and wife!
I promise I would take good care of your daughter, yeah, and i will manage her furious temper(!!!)
Where is my wife??. I think he looks extra handsome in this one!
Yeah!! There she is!!!
The photo shoot begins!!
First day as Mrs Rajeev P S Nair
Our first car together. This was a Wagon R: KA 51- P- 8260. Rajeev named the car as Raman Kutty, Wagon Raman Kutty. Raman Kutty was with us through many beautiful memories. Selling him off after we relocated to Kerala was truly a painful moment!! Somewhere in the records though, he still belongs to us. We once got a mail saying that Raman Kutty's owner violated some traffic rules somewhere!
After one year of marriage, we realized that a new person was coming to our life. It was all thrill, excitement and longingness. At the point when we didn't know if it would be a boy or a girl, we called the baby 'Thakkudu'. Tracking Thakkudu's schedule of the day was the main agenda of our life. Through the morning sickness, throwing up inside the car and all the blues, we waited for Thakkudu to come! After some really killing moments, we got Thakkudu and then we knew that Thakkudu was Siddhi!
We may not be prefect for each other. I don't think anyone in this world could be perfect for anyone else. But we have made a life together. And our small world is as beautiful as we would make it. Thanks for the life, for moving through those moments when I was as bad as anyone could ever get !!!!
Friday, October 7, 2011
Our world, being turned around!
For the ones who had an impression that this would be a serious discussion about the financial or political condition of the world around, or the distressing news of the demise of Steve Jobs, kindly apologize. I am here to talk about my tiny world which consists of my spouse, child, parents, brother, grand parents and in-laws!
Every mother takes pride in calling her child naughty. I am in no way different. My daughter Siddhi is now 1 year and 4 months old. She is turning our world around by her many innovative ideas of having fun and throwing away all the primitive ideas of safety to air!
My house does not look the same anymore. The moment you pass the gate, you might find buckets stacked near the water tap. That's Siddhi's greatest time pass. She carries buckets (yes, not just one, but one in each hand) to the water tap and orders who ever is around to open the tap. After a while, that same who ever would carry a wet cat inside and change her clothes for the hundredth time. I cannot really count the number of times this ritual happens everyday.
Stepping further inside, please don't be shocked to find waste bins inside the show case. Siddhi has this special liking for waste bins. She picks it up, smiles at you and then pours it over her head. Apparently, my mother could not find a better place to keep it.
My house is currently a weapon free zone. You would not find a single safety pin, blade, nail cutter, knife or anything remotely dangerous anywhere near. This reform happened after she cut her hand with a stray blade some time ago and thereafter when my mother found her happily holding a knife in her hand and offering it to anyone who wants it.
Now don't be even more surprised if you hear my helpless mom talking in English to my even more helpless dad! English is the favorite language of communication in Vidya Vihar(that's my house) these days. This is because Siddhi, albeit her limited knowledge of Malayalam, seems to understand everything we speak. My mom plans to take a bath, tells my husband or my father that she is off to the bathroom, and whoosh, Siddhi is in the bathroom before she even collects her bath towels. And yeah, the only option is to bath with Siddhi inside, oblivious to anything happening around and joyously playing with all the water she wants. So then we devised a plan to use English in such emergencies. Knowing my daughter, it is just a matter of time before she would learn this foreign language too. I am starting to train my parents, brother and husband in Hindi and in a short while would be teaching myself Spanish, Chinese and Greek in that order so that we can somehow survive until she gets older!
Feeding Siddhi is a challenge which is usually bestowed on the person after an impartial coin tossing process. The ritual takes a minimum of 2 hrs during which she changes her mind as to riding her cycle, playing on her swing, turning over her huge kit of toys from the bottom so that the room is flooded with her toys and walking around the house. And after all these, you would be left puffing and panting and the plate would still be half full. Sometimes, after all this effort, she suddenly feels that she has over eaten, so she sticks her finger into her mouth and throws up the efforts of 2 hours all over you and off you run to the bathroom, ofcourse with her running ahead of you by several paces.
Now after such a hectic day, if you are planning to stay over, please get ready to sleep without pillows. Siddhi has mastered the art of climbing the window. Once she reaches the top, she looks at you, smiles benignly and leaves her hand for a sky diving. The bed was there to support her though my mother, witnessing this act of valor, almost got a heart attack. As a result of this, all the 20 pillows in and around my house are stacked below this particular window to catch her fall.
One day, my mother entered the kitchen and saw an yellow baby, aka Siddhi. She had managed to get the turmeric powder from the rack and had bathed herself in that. As my mom fled with Siddhi to dip her in a bucket, she thanked God that it was turmeric and not chilly!
Taking Siddhi out for shopping is more fun that you can imagine, ofcourse, I am talking from her perspective. As far as you are concerned, it is a messy and sweaty process. My uncle, the policeman and my aunty, who looks after her in the day time, in one of those disastrous moments which you might later want to rewind, decided to take her out for shopping in the nearby supermarket. My daughter has the habit of calling anyone remotely resembling my brother by the name Mama(uncle) and anyone a little older as Appooppa(Grandpa). Thankfully, my husband is the only person she calls as Acha(father)! So on this particular historic day, she entered the supermarket, spotted her victim and started calling him Appooppa. To be fair to the man, he wasn't all that old or anything and he was clearly offended. From my aunt's report, my uncle had the most embarrassed smile of his face as he apologized to the offended man and just has he was doing it, Siddhi shouted her lungs out 'Appooppa' and everyone blushed! As if that was all. It must have been a pretty sight with Siddhi running around the supermarket, treating everything around her as a hindrance, toppling things over, with my uncle running behind her to catch her and my not exactly slim aunty, painstakingly picking up and rearranging things that Siddhi baby had deranged!
The story repeated at Udumbanchola too, my husband's place, where we took her over the weekend. Again the voltage step up was relocated to the top of the almirah because Siddhi wanted to stick her finger into it, the weapons like nail cutter etc was over the cot for the obvious reason, the phone was over the television because she suddenly wanted to talk to everyone and the television itself barricaded through all the furniture available to avoid a serial toppling of all the antiquities that the television was housing. As we started to leave, I heard my father in law saying something about building some racks high up and my mother in law evidently was still panting.
All through the daily reports that I get from Rajeev, my mom and my aunt, there is only thing that comes to my mind. I am missing a large part of it. The fun and the pain both. I miss you baby and I promise that we would be together as soon as we can. I love you darling!!!
Every mother takes pride in calling her child naughty. I am in no way different. My daughter Siddhi is now 1 year and 4 months old. She is turning our world around by her many innovative ideas of having fun and throwing away all the primitive ideas of safety to air!
My house does not look the same anymore. The moment you pass the gate, you might find buckets stacked near the water tap. That's Siddhi's greatest time pass. She carries buckets (yes, not just one, but one in each hand) to the water tap and orders who ever is around to open the tap. After a while, that same who ever would carry a wet cat inside and change her clothes for the hundredth time. I cannot really count the number of times this ritual happens everyday.
Stepping further inside, please don't be shocked to find waste bins inside the show case. Siddhi has this special liking for waste bins. She picks it up, smiles at you and then pours it over her head. Apparently, my mother could not find a better place to keep it.
My house is currently a weapon free zone. You would not find a single safety pin, blade, nail cutter, knife or anything remotely dangerous anywhere near. This reform happened after she cut her hand with a stray blade some time ago and thereafter when my mother found her happily holding a knife in her hand and offering it to anyone who wants it.
Now don't be even more surprised if you hear my helpless mom talking in English to my even more helpless dad! English is the favorite language of communication in Vidya Vihar(that's my house) these days. This is because Siddhi, albeit her limited knowledge of Malayalam, seems to understand everything we speak. My mom plans to take a bath, tells my husband or my father that she is off to the bathroom, and whoosh, Siddhi is in the bathroom before she even collects her bath towels. And yeah, the only option is to bath with Siddhi inside, oblivious to anything happening around and joyously playing with all the water she wants. So then we devised a plan to use English in such emergencies. Knowing my daughter, it is just a matter of time before she would learn this foreign language too. I am starting to train my parents, brother and husband in Hindi and in a short while would be teaching myself Spanish, Chinese and Greek in that order so that we can somehow survive until she gets older!
Feeding Siddhi is a challenge which is usually bestowed on the person after an impartial coin tossing process. The ritual takes a minimum of 2 hrs during which she changes her mind as to riding her cycle, playing on her swing, turning over her huge kit of toys from the bottom so that the room is flooded with her toys and walking around the house. And after all these, you would be left puffing and panting and the plate would still be half full. Sometimes, after all this effort, she suddenly feels that she has over eaten, so she sticks her finger into her mouth and throws up the efforts of 2 hours all over you and off you run to the bathroom, ofcourse with her running ahead of you by several paces.
Now after such a hectic day, if you are planning to stay over, please get ready to sleep without pillows. Siddhi has mastered the art of climbing the window. Once she reaches the top, she looks at you, smiles benignly and leaves her hand for a sky diving. The bed was there to support her though my mother, witnessing this act of valor, almost got a heart attack. As a result of this, all the 20 pillows in and around my house are stacked below this particular window to catch her fall.
One day, my mother entered the kitchen and saw an yellow baby, aka Siddhi. She had managed to get the turmeric powder from the rack and had bathed herself in that. As my mom fled with Siddhi to dip her in a bucket, she thanked God that it was turmeric and not chilly!
Taking Siddhi out for shopping is more fun that you can imagine, ofcourse, I am talking from her perspective. As far as you are concerned, it is a messy and sweaty process. My uncle, the policeman and my aunty, who looks after her in the day time, in one of those disastrous moments which you might later want to rewind, decided to take her out for shopping in the nearby supermarket. My daughter has the habit of calling anyone remotely resembling my brother by the name Mama(uncle) and anyone a little older as Appooppa(Grandpa). Thankfully, my husband is the only person she calls as Acha(father)! So on this particular historic day, she entered the supermarket, spotted her victim and started calling him Appooppa. To be fair to the man, he wasn't all that old or anything and he was clearly offended. From my aunt's report, my uncle had the most embarrassed smile of his face as he apologized to the offended man and just has he was doing it, Siddhi shouted her lungs out 'Appooppa' and everyone blushed! As if that was all. It must have been a pretty sight with Siddhi running around the supermarket, treating everything around her as a hindrance, toppling things over, with my uncle running behind her to catch her and my not exactly slim aunty, painstakingly picking up and rearranging things that Siddhi baby had deranged!
The story repeated at Udumbanchola too, my husband's place, where we took her over the weekend. Again the voltage step up was relocated to the top of the almirah because Siddhi wanted to stick her finger into it, the weapons like nail cutter etc was over the cot for the obvious reason, the phone was over the television because she suddenly wanted to talk to everyone and the television itself barricaded through all the furniture available to avoid a serial toppling of all the antiquities that the television was housing. As we started to leave, I heard my father in law saying something about building some racks high up and my mother in law evidently was still panting.
All through the daily reports that I get from Rajeev, my mom and my aunt, there is only thing that comes to my mind. I am missing a large part of it. The fun and the pain both. I miss you baby and I promise that we would be together as soon as we can. I love you darling!!!
Thursday, October 6, 2011
Musings of a convalescent...
This is my first blog in many weeks, which is the longest break ever, since I started blogging with interest. Many asked me why I had stopped. I had no answer. For the same reason, I would not announcing this blog in any of the public forums. This one is for those of my "close to the heart ones", who, even without me telling them, would check regularly to see if I have freed my bird of creativity from the unjustified quarantine. As I sit, smiling and happily pecking at my keyboard, I have no clear topic in mind. But I think it is creativity that I might want to blog about. Beware, you might ultimately end up reading stuff totally unrelated to the above mentioned topic and you would definitely think what I had in mind or if I had anything called a mind at all. That is one reason why I am not planning to publicize this particular blog.
One of my friends told me last day that my creativity flows from my fingertips. Me being me and my ego being satisfied and belching, I was proud of the comment. Nevertheless, every rivers needs a mountain to originate from, and it is the lucidity and the briskness of the source which decides how far and long the river would flow. A masterpiece from Picasso or some "smile-able crap" from Vidya would both require the same basic factor to evolve, the right amount of motivation and stimulation. I learned in Organizational Behavior in the last term that strong emotions, positive or negative, can lead to a surge in the level of creativity. Taking a look at history, there are two basic reasons behind any work of art, love or hatred. Love encompasses emotions, calm and joy, whereas hatred would include anger, frustration and grudge. Going back to Picasso, have you ever seen his 'Guernica'? I would have puked had I understood any part of it. My brother painstakingly explained every bit of the picture which came out from a maestro who was inspired by the bombing during Spanish civil war. I am not as fortunate, if hatred could make me a creative write, I could beat Ayn Rand over her one million pages (not quite) long 'Atlas Shrugged'. What comes out of me when I am in the negative hemisphere would be even more pathetic than the work of some self declared artists of Malayalam, widely popularized through YouTube and the likes. I wait for it to pass, to think and to write. The last 20 days of my life were glimpses of a transition and indecision that I was going through. This phase is typically characterized through dark circles under the eyes, bursts of anger, lack of concentration and skepticism about everything and everyone. If you claim that this is a psychological condition, I would not refuse it, but atleast it is a condition acknowledged and appreciated by the sufferer.
The famous American Psychologist, David McClelland professed a theory for motivation, which is known as the need theory of motivation (any doubts that I am an FPM student now? Even my blogs are reflecting my deep intellectual knowledge!!). My Philosophy book review this term was based on his work and I would be blithe to send it to anyone who wants to know more about him or the theory. Well, he says that a person with a high need for achievement ultimately achieves something in life, and also about a few ways of raising this levels for a normal human being. One of this is fantasizing. Now don't start getting any ideas, he speaks about fantasizing the achievements that you aspire so that your dreams don't let you sleep. Cannot really help if your dreams also start evading you, can it? I have been having all these dreamless nights or the ones where the dreams are so broken, bordering on being night mares, like the cash flow statements I prepare for my accounts course, where nothing matches, you can neither make out the beginning, or the end or if there is a flow at all.
The PGP office of IIMK is sadistic in nature and derives pleasure out of shuffling our seats in the most unpredictable manner every 3 months. They did it again and now I am transferred from the corner of the last row, where I was invisible, to the corner of the front row, where I am just as invisible. I do not particularly enjoy being invisible because I still remember the adorable Prof Subhashis Dey (sigh!!) looking around helplessly to find the source of my voice when I posed a question in the class the last term. Well, my seat in class incidentally has nothing to do with my creativity ofcourse, but I was explaining it because now I have a new neighbor. Shushanta Guha (let not the 'a' at the end of his name mislead you, Shushanta is a male) and Sonia Singh (no misgivings there, Sonia is a female), who sits adjacent to him, have made some people suggest that the PGP office has collaboratively accumulated all the senior citizens of the class together. OK, we are the eldest ones in the class, with the other two elder to me but apparently no one would believe that the gorgeous Sonia is a mother of a child of 3 and that Shushanta is almost 28. I am again deviating from my early intent by discussing my interesting neighbors, this is what happens when you give a a chance to a "blog chatter box" a chance to write after weeks. Getting to the point, Shushanta has a 5 subject notebook, which looks very professional, though a part of its beauty has been tarnished by my 5 color pen. Yes, I do have a pen with which I can write in 5 different colors, which I am currently using to blackmail my classmates to my advantage. Ok, so today as I was admiring my colorful impressions on his 'once' beautiful book, I noticed a printed quote at the back cover and it moved me. It said, "Every work of art, every world changing idea, is a result of a moment's inspiration". I could not wait for the class to get over, which is handled by yet another interesting person (I am not writing anymore about my term 2 news in IIMK, that would take another blog and who said I am short of idea, OMG, give me two keyboards!!). All because this simple line of thought had given me the last spark to burn off all that was dormant and doubtful in me. After class, the all new me rushed to my room, looked at the mirror on the wall, smiled and opened the laptop!
This blog has no outcomes, no conclusions, no questions posed, nothing to think or ruminate about. The only intent is to let you know that you have no reason to worry about me now, I do not guarantee that I would never go on a spell of dark thoughts ever again, but with you by my side, I will get over it! And ofcourse, I do hope that a part of it has made you smile, as I have always wanted it.
One of my friends told me last day that my creativity flows from my fingertips. Me being me and my ego being satisfied and belching, I was proud of the comment. Nevertheless, every rivers needs a mountain to originate from, and it is the lucidity and the briskness of the source which decides how far and long the river would flow. A masterpiece from Picasso or some "smile-able crap" from Vidya would both require the same basic factor to evolve, the right amount of motivation and stimulation. I learned in Organizational Behavior in the last term that strong emotions, positive or negative, can lead to a surge in the level of creativity. Taking a look at history, there are two basic reasons behind any work of art, love or hatred. Love encompasses emotions, calm and joy, whereas hatred would include anger, frustration and grudge. Going back to Picasso, have you ever seen his 'Guernica'? I would have puked had I understood any part of it. My brother painstakingly explained every bit of the picture which came out from a maestro who was inspired by the bombing during Spanish civil war. I am not as fortunate, if hatred could make me a creative write, I could beat Ayn Rand over her one million pages (not quite) long 'Atlas Shrugged'. What comes out of me when I am in the negative hemisphere would be even more pathetic than the work of some self declared artists of Malayalam, widely popularized through YouTube and the likes. I wait for it to pass, to think and to write. The last 20 days of my life were glimpses of a transition and indecision that I was going through. This phase is typically characterized through dark circles under the eyes, bursts of anger, lack of concentration and skepticism about everything and everyone. If you claim that this is a psychological condition, I would not refuse it, but atleast it is a condition acknowledged and appreciated by the sufferer.
The famous American Psychologist, David McClelland professed a theory for motivation, which is known as the need theory of motivation (any doubts that I am an FPM student now? Even my blogs are reflecting my deep intellectual knowledge!!). My Philosophy book review this term was based on his work and I would be blithe to send it to anyone who wants to know more about him or the theory. Well, he says that a person with a high need for achievement ultimately achieves something in life, and also about a few ways of raising this levels for a normal human being. One of this is fantasizing. Now don't start getting any ideas, he speaks about fantasizing the achievements that you aspire so that your dreams don't let you sleep. Cannot really help if your dreams also start evading you, can it? I have been having all these dreamless nights or the ones where the dreams are so broken, bordering on being night mares, like the cash flow statements I prepare for my accounts course, where nothing matches, you can neither make out the beginning, or the end or if there is a flow at all.
The PGP office of IIMK is sadistic in nature and derives pleasure out of shuffling our seats in the most unpredictable manner every 3 months. They did it again and now I am transferred from the corner of the last row, where I was invisible, to the corner of the front row, where I am just as invisible. I do not particularly enjoy being invisible because I still remember the adorable Prof Subhashis Dey (sigh!!) looking around helplessly to find the source of my voice when I posed a question in the class the last term. Well, my seat in class incidentally has nothing to do with my creativity ofcourse, but I was explaining it because now I have a new neighbor. Shushanta Guha (let not the 'a' at the end of his name mislead you, Shushanta is a male) and Sonia Singh (no misgivings there, Sonia is a female), who sits adjacent to him, have made some people suggest that the PGP office has collaboratively accumulated all the senior citizens of the class together. OK, we are the eldest ones in the class, with the other two elder to me but apparently no one would believe that the gorgeous Sonia is a mother of a child of 3 and that Shushanta is almost 28. I am again deviating from my early intent by discussing my interesting neighbors, this is what happens when you give a a chance to a "blog chatter box" a chance to write after weeks. Getting to the point, Shushanta has a 5 subject notebook, which looks very professional, though a part of its beauty has been tarnished by my 5 color pen. Yes, I do have a pen with which I can write in 5 different colors, which I am currently using to blackmail my classmates to my advantage. Ok, so today as I was admiring my colorful impressions on his 'once' beautiful book, I noticed a printed quote at the back cover and it moved me. It said, "Every work of art, every world changing idea, is a result of a moment's inspiration". I could not wait for the class to get over, which is handled by yet another interesting person (I am not writing anymore about my term 2 news in IIMK, that would take another blog and who said I am short of idea, OMG, give me two keyboards!!). All because this simple line of thought had given me the last spark to burn off all that was dormant and doubtful in me. After class, the all new me rushed to my room, looked at the mirror on the wall, smiled and opened the laptop!
This blog has no outcomes, no conclusions, no questions posed, nothing to think or ruminate about. The only intent is to let you know that you have no reason to worry about me now, I do not guarantee that I would never go on a spell of dark thoughts ever again, but with you by my side, I will get over it! And ofcourse, I do hope that a part of it has made you smile, as I have always wanted it.
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