Every birthday eve, I tell my daughters the story of their birth. Or more specifically, what happened on the day prior to their birth, what I ate to how I felt, to what happened at the hospital, to who was with me……there is so much to tell. Somewhere the memories that have been stored away just seem to flow into words naturally on those 2 days of every year-June 6th and Oct 29th. .
Somehow, without my knowledge it seems to have become a tradition. This stepping back into the past, the narration of those eventful days of my life when my children hadn’t been born yet and I was awaiting their coming into this world eagerly…this tradition seems to continue with each passing year .I tend to forget that so much time has lapsed since their birth and it all seems new. Even if I forget or think they are saturated with the story of their respective birthdate stories am taken by surprise by the fact that they never tire of hearing it again and again.
May those memories never fade for me and for them, ever...
Sunday, June 06, 2010
Saturday, May 22, 2010
Raising you
Raising you in your infancy-early childhood was a cakewalk. I must admit that.As a first time mother I never really felt at a loss or helpless at any point of time.You listened, you rebelled, you threw tantrums, you screamed and yelled when things didn’t work your way and you were a stubborn baby. But yet it was a cakewalk. As a first time mother, I had to rely on only one strength of mine in raising you-- my intuition. No Dr Spock could teach me that. It was innate and I relied on it as a natural process...
I won’t get into the clichéd phrase of ‘how time flies’. It does and we know it especially when one has children.
Now you are 15,.I do get nostalgic about the way you have blossomed in to a beautiful (within and without) young lady with a mind of her own. You have strengths that I lack, that of making friends, of confidence, of being immensely mentally organized and yes a beautiful blend of logic and emotion.
Why is it that with time I have stopped using my intuition in understanding you? Is it because I know and sense you have grown up and are less dependant on me in many ways. Why do I forget that like babies, even teens are vulnerable and emotionally ultra sensitive?
Why has my confidence as a mother been replaced with helplessness now? I feel at a loss at handling your emotions. In the peak of the moment, I fail to be objective. I react rather than observe. And I forget to listen.
I forget to listen when you ask me how am I to discover my passion in life...
I react when you speak to me about your friends, some of whom I have distaste for…
And then the damn maternal guilt springs up unknowingly.Its rather strange how it always lurks under the surface.
Your growing up didn’t happen overnight did it? My realization was late. Realization of the fact that hugs just don’t work for a 15 year old like it did when you were younger.Listening, just listening quietly, giving you my undivided non judgmental attention works. No sermons, no patronizing, no exclaiming-“when I was your age”!
I think the beautiful part of parenting you is understanding my own self in a way I have never understood before. I have always wondered, is it that I resent your growing up and your desire to find your wings? Is it the regret of all the mistakes I have made while raising you—the dos and the don’ts, the perfectionist streak that overwhelmed my early parenting days…
Or is it that I am just setting such high standards for myself as a parent? As your mother? Some part of me craves for you to understand what I experience as well and at the peak of the moment; I actually forget you are 15 and not older.
There has been a letting go on my part that was not there earlier. The struggle within me was about letting go of you and a refusal to accept that you have an independent mind of your own. Now that you are away at camp, there is emptiness, yet a sense of appreciation of what you bring into my life each moment that you are with me. There is also a strange sense of relief in knowing that I have grown up as a parent and no longer wish to play a control-game with you.
Love you my teen.
I won’t get into the clichéd phrase of ‘how time flies’. It does and we know it especially when one has children.
Now you are 15,.I do get nostalgic about the way you have blossomed in to a beautiful (within and without) young lady with a mind of her own. You have strengths that I lack, that of making friends, of confidence, of being immensely mentally organized and yes a beautiful blend of logic and emotion.
Why is it that with time I have stopped using my intuition in understanding you? Is it because I know and sense you have grown up and are less dependant on me in many ways. Why do I forget that like babies, even teens are vulnerable and emotionally ultra sensitive?
Why has my confidence as a mother been replaced with helplessness now? I feel at a loss at handling your emotions. In the peak of the moment, I fail to be objective. I react rather than observe. And I forget to listen.
I forget to listen when you ask me how am I to discover my passion in life...
I react when you speak to me about your friends, some of whom I have distaste for…
And then the damn maternal guilt springs up unknowingly.Its rather strange how it always lurks under the surface.
Your growing up didn’t happen overnight did it? My realization was late. Realization of the fact that hugs just don’t work for a 15 year old like it did when you were younger.Listening, just listening quietly, giving you my undivided non judgmental attention works. No sermons, no patronizing, no exclaiming-“when I was your age”!
I think the beautiful part of parenting you is understanding my own self in a way I have never understood before. I have always wondered, is it that I resent your growing up and your desire to find your wings? Is it the regret of all the mistakes I have made while raising you—the dos and the don’ts, the perfectionist streak that overwhelmed my early parenting days…
Or is it that I am just setting such high standards for myself as a parent? As your mother? Some part of me craves for you to understand what I experience as well and at the peak of the moment; I actually forget you are 15 and not older.
There has been a letting go on my part that was not there earlier. The struggle within me was about letting go of you and a refusal to accept that you have an independent mind of your own. Now that you are away at camp, there is emptiness, yet a sense of appreciation of what you bring into my life each moment that you are with me. There is also a strange sense of relief in knowing that I have grown up as a parent and no longer wish to play a control-game with you.
Love you my teen.
Wednesday, April 07, 2010
'Having to'
I have been thinking of this phrase 'have to' and I keep seeing it in a new light. When I think to myself, I have to lose 3 kilos to get back to my earlier shape; does it really really work for me?
If I think Diti has to learn to write neatly and legibly, does it work that way? Or that she has to learn Hindi/Marathi languages in the way that is set? Or that Ananya has to study everyday no matter what?
“Having to’ sounds punishing to my ears. I know that there are certain things that just have to be done like getting out of bed, seeing the kids off to school. preparing the various tiffins,cooking lunch. sorting out clothes, my writing. But when I tell myself I ‘have to’ do them, it creates a stress in me that doesn’t go away until the job is done. And the job I end up doing may be done half heartedly.
Is it that all of these jobs need to be done or am I allowing myself to make a choice. A choice on how I see these tasks and chores. Maybe I don’t need to do all of them together in one mad frenzy. Maybe I can look at them differently. Maybe I don’t need to do them at all within the time I set for myself. Maybe I change the order of the tasks!
Maybe Diti need not learn to write legibly because she has an option of using a computer as well. Maybe she doesn’t need to learn anything in a certain way or a specified time. I don’t wish for her to look at learning anything where it becomes a punishment or a subtle order. I don’t want resentment to creep in somewhere along the way in my children or me, a resentment that removes the joy of the task and makes me complain and grumble a lot.
Doesn’t life find its own rhythm eventually when we look at it differently? When we look at it as making choices and having options rather than simply ‘having to’?
If I think Diti has to learn to write neatly and legibly, does it work that way? Or that she has to learn Hindi/Marathi languages in the way that is set? Or that Ananya has to study everyday no matter what?
“Having to’ sounds punishing to my ears. I know that there are certain things that just have to be done like getting out of bed, seeing the kids off to school. preparing the various tiffins,cooking lunch. sorting out clothes, my writing. But when I tell myself I ‘have to’ do them, it creates a stress in me that doesn’t go away until the job is done. And the job I end up doing may be done half heartedly.
Is it that all of these jobs need to be done or am I allowing myself to make a choice. A choice on how I see these tasks and chores. Maybe I don’t need to do all of them together in one mad frenzy. Maybe I can look at them differently. Maybe I don’t need to do them at all within the time I set for myself. Maybe I change the order of the tasks!
Maybe Diti need not learn to write legibly because she has an option of using a computer as well. Maybe she doesn’t need to learn anything in a certain way or a specified time. I don’t wish for her to look at learning anything where it becomes a punishment or a subtle order. I don’t want resentment to creep in somewhere along the way in my children or me, a resentment that removes the joy of the task and makes me complain and grumble a lot.
Doesn’t life find its own rhythm eventually when we look at it differently? When we look at it as making choices and having options rather than simply ‘having to’?
Saturday, March 20, 2010
Sharing a Photo Blog
Great Pyramid of Giza-Egypt
This photograph was not taken by me but my friend-photographer-traveller enthusiast who spends more time clicking photographs (than enjoying the moment) :) It took my breath away.
More of the photographs he clicks are on his blog
Tuesday, February 16, 2010
Understanding hearing impairment.
Of late I have begun to understand hearing impairments better. I am more intrigued about it. It’s not the reason why it occurs that intrigues me. It is the way it differs from person to person, from someone who is born with it to someone who has acquired it say once they have completed their education and crossed language/speaking barriers. After the discovery of my hearing impairment in 1998 when I was 31, there followed a brief period of denial, counseling and ultimately acceptance and now I am at a stage when I can even laugh over it. Especially when I mishear things and it comes out all funny.
I seem to dislike using the word ‘deaf’. I don’t know why. Maybe ‘deaf’ , ‘blind’, ‘mute’ sound harsh and blunt ,like a label that refuses to peel off.( I know that is a reality).I seem to prefer using the words hearing impairment maybe because impairment sounds more gentle, less judgmental and less labeled.
I need to give credit for this sudden revival of interest to my new found friend Ruchi who has a 6 year old daughter, Prisha who has been hearing impaired since birth. As a mother it has been an amazing and challenging journey for Ruchi.When one meets Prisha and hears her speak it would be very difficult to determine that she is totally hearing impaired and has successfully crossed her language barriers. She speaks fluently and does not lip read. She can hear even in the dark with the help of her hearing aids. When I see her and since I am hearing impaired, I begin to see a bit of me in her and a bit of her in me. Maybe a bond that links us though we are ages apart. Although there is very little to give away her impairment, there are subtle nuances that make me aware of it. I also realized that here the challenge is for her mother-caregiver as Prisha has never known a world of sound. Instead she has been guided in to that world of sound with the help of her parents, speech therapist along with the indispensable hearing aid.
My hearing loss is so vastly different from hers yet am also hearing impaired. I rely on lip reading which is more or less guess work. I also tend to gesture more. I cannot hear in the dark even with my hearing aids on. I always need to face the person I am speaking with. My hearing loss was however discovered when I was 30 although the process of degeneration must have begun much earlier when I was unaware of it. It’s a progressive hearing loss that is to do with nerves or medically put- a Sensorineural hearing loss...Understanding that this condition came from ‘deafness’ genes took me a long time. A journey of blame and regrets followed which fortunately I have passed through now. I recollect my childhood of sign language and raised voices to communicate to my mother but then I never really understood the ‘difficulty’ in that situation. As a child it came naturally to me and naturally enough to accept my mom the way she was.
From a world of language, music and being able to carry on normal conversations even from a distance, I progressed into a new world where I adapted myself to my dis-ability.I miss, missing out on witty comments, wry humour, jokes and even gossip. There are times I laugh when everyone is laughing. I have to tune in to the group around me and this I notice is becoming more frequent. The struggle to cope with group conversations where sometimes I just tune myself out is really becoming a struggle.
Does it matter? Yes, it does.
Is my communication lesser than before? It is.
Does it leave me feeling sad? It does at times especially when am in a conversational mood and I know phone conversations don’t come easily to me.
I struggle in a movie theatre or while watching a play. Its tough to lip read then and I settle down to tune into body language and doing my usual guess work.I cannot hear an alarm clock or my mobile buzz in case I need to wake up early morning. I have stopped using them and rely on my body clock that doesn’t seem to go wrong as long as I believe in her. I long to hear the words of songs as they play on my CD or on the car FM and have to keep asking my family, ‘Which song is this?’, that’s one part I miss the most because music was always an integral part of my early life.
Are these regrets? Now after 12 years of hearing aids and slowly losing out on sounds, I also value this world of silence. It has honed my other senses remarkably. I am far more intuitive than most. I am also better at reading facial cues and eyes. And I love it because I have a partner who refused to let me become dependant on him to hear and carry on with normal life. Instead he encouraged me to hear, make mistakes and move on. My daughters who in turn empathize with me as well as roll with laughter over it. They can say something perfectly ordinary and I hear it as something so different that it results in peals of laughter all around. It has its merits. At night, I don’t hear the sounds of traffic and I don’t hear the watchman sing aloud to keep himself awake. The watchman by the way sits right below our 1st floor apartment. And I can conveniently miss out what I don’t wish to hear. ‘Selective hearing’ as A puts it.
I love to watch movies with subtitles because it makes my world a lot easier. I am so glad for sms’s and the internet (when I use it) although they by no means replace actual direct conversations. Thank god for technology.
I just wish I do not reach a day when I am unable hear my own voice, the voice of my girls and of A.
I seem to dislike using the word ‘deaf’. I don’t know why. Maybe ‘deaf’ , ‘blind’, ‘mute’ sound harsh and blunt ,like a label that refuses to peel off.( I know that is a reality).I seem to prefer using the words hearing impairment maybe because impairment sounds more gentle, less judgmental and less labeled.
I need to give credit for this sudden revival of interest to my new found friend Ruchi who has a 6 year old daughter, Prisha who has been hearing impaired since birth. As a mother it has been an amazing and challenging journey for Ruchi.When one meets Prisha and hears her speak it would be very difficult to determine that she is totally hearing impaired and has successfully crossed her language barriers. She speaks fluently and does not lip read. She can hear even in the dark with the help of her hearing aids. When I see her and since I am hearing impaired, I begin to see a bit of me in her and a bit of her in me. Maybe a bond that links us though we are ages apart. Although there is very little to give away her impairment, there are subtle nuances that make me aware of it. I also realized that here the challenge is for her mother-caregiver as Prisha has never known a world of sound. Instead she has been guided in to that world of sound with the help of her parents, speech therapist along with the indispensable hearing aid.
My hearing loss is so vastly different from hers yet am also hearing impaired. I rely on lip reading which is more or less guess work. I also tend to gesture more. I cannot hear in the dark even with my hearing aids on. I always need to face the person I am speaking with. My hearing loss was however discovered when I was 30 although the process of degeneration must have begun much earlier when I was unaware of it. It’s a progressive hearing loss that is to do with nerves or medically put- a Sensorineural hearing loss...Understanding that this condition came from ‘deafness’ genes took me a long time. A journey of blame and regrets followed which fortunately I have passed through now. I recollect my childhood of sign language and raised voices to communicate to my mother but then I never really understood the ‘difficulty’ in that situation. As a child it came naturally to me and naturally enough to accept my mom the way she was.
From a world of language, music and being able to carry on normal conversations even from a distance, I progressed into a new world where I adapted myself to my dis-ability.I miss, missing out on witty comments, wry humour, jokes and even gossip. There are times I laugh when everyone is laughing. I have to tune in to the group around me and this I notice is becoming more frequent. The struggle to cope with group conversations where sometimes I just tune myself out is really becoming a struggle.
Does it matter? Yes, it does.
Is my communication lesser than before? It is.
Does it leave me feeling sad? It does at times especially when am in a conversational mood and I know phone conversations don’t come easily to me.
I struggle in a movie theatre or while watching a play. Its tough to lip read then and I settle down to tune into body language and doing my usual guess work.I cannot hear an alarm clock or my mobile buzz in case I need to wake up early morning. I have stopped using them and rely on my body clock that doesn’t seem to go wrong as long as I believe in her. I long to hear the words of songs as they play on my CD or on the car FM and have to keep asking my family, ‘Which song is this?’, that’s one part I miss the most because music was always an integral part of my early life.
Are these regrets? Now after 12 years of hearing aids and slowly losing out on sounds, I also value this world of silence. It has honed my other senses remarkably. I am far more intuitive than most. I am also better at reading facial cues and eyes. And I love it because I have a partner who refused to let me become dependant on him to hear and carry on with normal life. Instead he encouraged me to hear, make mistakes and move on. My daughters who in turn empathize with me as well as roll with laughter over it. They can say something perfectly ordinary and I hear it as something so different that it results in peals of laughter all around. It has its merits. At night, I don’t hear the sounds of traffic and I don’t hear the watchman sing aloud to keep himself awake. The watchman by the way sits right below our 1st floor apartment. And I can conveniently miss out what I don’t wish to hear. ‘Selective hearing’ as A puts it.
I love to watch movies with subtitles because it makes my world a lot easier. I am so glad for sms’s and the internet (when I use it) although they by no means replace actual direct conversations. Thank god for technology.
I just wish I do not reach a day when I am unable hear my own voice, the voice of my girls and of A.
Thursday, October 29, 2009
Tolerance
Have you heard of a neighbor cutting down a bougainvillea shrub because it peeped into their garden? Mine did just that. Not only did they cut down the part that grew over their side of the fence but they cut my side too. Why? Don’t ask! When asked, I was told that it was done by the workers without their knowledge.
What about the lemons from my lemon tree? Did you take them too?
No- no they just fell into our side of the garden.
I hope you get the drift.
And yes of course Mrs. C who decides to have the huge mother tree facing her home chopped down leaving several squawking birds, lost without their nests and homes. And why did she do it? Her home needs more sunlight you see.Hey! What about the birds?
Let me move onto another neighbor down my lane. Any maid who works in my home has to be stopped by Mrs. M who will inquire in detail her name, work timings, where she comes from, her references and how much she is paid and the grand last question of all-‘Why don’t you work for me instead? Well!
My maid (they are the stuff legends are made of in Pune) deigns to come to work 5 days out of 10.The day she decides to do so, she walks in slowly and as soon as she catches me looking at her, her expression undergoes a swift change into one of tiredness and a slight huff and a puff. I don’t need to ask her. I know her answer already. It took her ½ an hour to cross the road.
I can’t change maids here in Pune because a maid in the enclave I live in is a rarity. If available they are unaffordable. ‘Patience-have patience I tell myself each day, have the faith that you will get support’, I reassure my fatigued self. Most of the time I am crabby and snappy. Especially when I am told ‘This the way it is here. You can’t change a thing Jyo.Either accept it or do all the work yourself’. I am no lazy bum but cleaning 3000 sq foot of space is not something I can handle each day, every day.
It’s not about maids and neighbors alone; it’s all about being patient and tolerant in this city that I have made my home since the last two years.
We chose our home with great care, a home that would suit our needs-space, a garden, a sit out area and serenity... Choosing my home was definitely lot smoother a process than choosing my neighbors.
Can I do something about this? Can I be a good neighbor despite the attitude, arrogance and churlishness? Can I be a laid back occupant of a huge bungalow who doesn’t care about the home being cleaned daily or not or if the children have been fed healthily? Can I ask the friends who drop by( and keep saying ‘Wow’ ‘ Wow’, this is some villa you live in) to not look up towards the ceiling when they walk in out of fear that they will have cobwebs staring down into their faces.. Can I ignore so much more-the poor customer service that exists even in expensive branded outlets where I have had hilarious experiences buying lingerie? Or in restaurants or the roads where I have to drive at a snails pace just because the two scooterists in front of me are having an interesting conversation right there in the middle of the road. mindless of the traffic and my honking?
I have asked A and myself this question many a time, during those rare moments we get to spend together in conversations. Rare moments of sipping tea in the shady verandah, watching the bulbuls and mynahs take their bath and nibble at the bird feed while D plays with the strewn orange leaves of the huge gulmohar tree. Those rare moments with nature, the chirping of the birds, a wide-eyed owl looking down from its tree hollow, a cheery smile from my milk man, the gentle sounds of the morning as the world arises is a reminder to me that the world and the people in it are not going to change. All of it is simply worth tolerating and a part of my ‘life’s’ experience in a different city.
What about the lemons from my lemon tree? Did you take them too?
No- no they just fell into our side of the garden.
I hope you get the drift.
And yes of course Mrs. C who decides to have the huge mother tree facing her home chopped down leaving several squawking birds, lost without their nests and homes. And why did she do it? Her home needs more sunlight you see.Hey! What about the birds?
Let me move onto another neighbor down my lane. Any maid who works in my home has to be stopped by Mrs. M who will inquire in detail her name, work timings, where she comes from, her references and how much she is paid and the grand last question of all-‘Why don’t you work for me instead? Well!
My maid (they are the stuff legends are made of in Pune) deigns to come to work 5 days out of 10.The day she decides to do so, she walks in slowly and as soon as she catches me looking at her, her expression undergoes a swift change into one of tiredness and a slight huff and a puff. I don’t need to ask her. I know her answer already. It took her ½ an hour to cross the road.
I can’t change maids here in Pune because a maid in the enclave I live in is a rarity. If available they are unaffordable. ‘Patience-have patience I tell myself each day, have the faith that you will get support’, I reassure my fatigued self. Most of the time I am crabby and snappy. Especially when I am told ‘This the way it is here. You can’t change a thing Jyo.Either accept it or do all the work yourself’. I am no lazy bum but cleaning 3000 sq foot of space is not something I can handle each day, every day.
It’s not about maids and neighbors alone; it’s all about being patient and tolerant in this city that I have made my home since the last two years.
We chose our home with great care, a home that would suit our needs-space, a garden, a sit out area and serenity... Choosing my home was definitely lot smoother a process than choosing my neighbors.
Can I do something about this? Can I be a good neighbor despite the attitude, arrogance and churlishness? Can I be a laid back occupant of a huge bungalow who doesn’t care about the home being cleaned daily or not or if the children have been fed healthily? Can I ask the friends who drop by( and keep saying ‘Wow’ ‘ Wow’, this is some villa you live in) to not look up towards the ceiling when they walk in out of fear that they will have cobwebs staring down into their faces.. Can I ignore so much more-the poor customer service that exists even in expensive branded outlets where I have had hilarious experiences buying lingerie? Or in restaurants or the roads where I have to drive at a snails pace just because the two scooterists in front of me are having an interesting conversation right there in the middle of the road. mindless of the traffic and my honking?
I have asked A and myself this question many a time, during those rare moments we get to spend together in conversations. Rare moments of sipping tea in the shady verandah, watching the bulbuls and mynahs take their bath and nibble at the bird feed while D plays with the strewn orange leaves of the huge gulmohar tree. Those rare moments with nature, the chirping of the birds, a wide-eyed owl looking down from its tree hollow, a cheery smile from my milk man, the gentle sounds of the morning as the world arises is a reminder to me that the world and the people in it are not going to change. All of it is simply worth tolerating and a part of my ‘life’s’ experience in a different city.
Monday, September 14, 2009
Thursday, April 30, 2009
What I love about being a mother
What I love about being a mother?Something I have never asked myself but the last 14 years have been a process of discovery thanks to being a mom So here I am writing this thanks to Shankari who tagged me.I enjoyed writing this.Thanks Shankari...
I learn something new each day,be it strange teen slang(i never knew 'Emo' meant sadness in teen language until yesterday),making funny faces,breaking out into a jig or a sudden insight that leaves me smiling.I know now how to grit my teeth and count up to ten without losing 'it'.
It has helped in discovering a new 'me'.I am now capable of a mixed bag of emotions from happiness to sadness,frustration to helplessness,pain,anger,gratitude,hurt,compassion,protective..the list is unceasing.Perhaps no other 'job' on earth can teach you as much as motherhood does.My lessons have been many and I would not have it any other way.
I am more responsible and have accepted that I am responsible for guiding my children and that they learn the most by observing me and A.Why else have we confined arguments and fights to the bedroom? :-) Why else did we all decide to set a rule during dinner that whosoever uses a swear word has to rinse their mouths immediately with Dettol liquid soap (yuck)!The lessons we learn.Guess who had to rinse their mouth the most?No no not me..It was A! :D
I have understood that each child is unique,beautifully so though born from the same parents.There is a joy in raising one child and a double joy in raising two.Of how they are able to make me feel loved in such simple yet powerful ways and accept me as I am.
And yes I have come around to accepting my graying hair and sagging parts easily and of how important A's role is in parenting as well.
I have grown not just in wisdom but in size as well.........
:)
Tagging my mom pals here
Anjali(London)
Ambika (Chennai)
Kaveri
Padmaja
Shankari (Bangalore)
http://badladies.blogspot.com/2009/03/world-according-to-mom.html
I learn something new each day,be it strange teen slang(i never knew 'Emo' meant sadness in teen language until yesterday),making funny faces,breaking out into a jig or a sudden insight that leaves me smiling.I know now how to grit my teeth and count up to ten without losing 'it'.
It has helped in discovering a new 'me'.I am now capable of a mixed bag of emotions from happiness to sadness,frustration to helplessness,pain,anger,gratitude,hurt,compassion,protective..the list is unceasing.Perhaps no other 'job' on earth can teach you as much as motherhood does.My lessons have been many and I would not have it any other way.
I am more responsible and have accepted that I am responsible for guiding my children and that they learn the most by observing me and A.Why else have we confined arguments and fights to the bedroom? :-) Why else did we all decide to set a rule during dinner that whosoever uses a swear word has to rinse their mouths immediately with Dettol liquid soap (yuck)!The lessons we learn.Guess who had to rinse their mouth the most?No no not me..It was A! :D
I have understood that each child is unique,beautifully so though born from the same parents.There is a joy in raising one child and a double joy in raising two.Of how they are able to make me feel loved in such simple yet powerful ways and accept me as I am.
And yes I have come around to accepting my graying hair and sagging parts easily and of how important A's role is in parenting as well.
I have grown not just in wisdom but in size as well.........
:)
Tagging my mom pals here
Anjali(London)
Ambika (Chennai)
Kaveri
Padmaja
Shankari (Bangalore)
http://badladies.blogspot.com/2009/03/world-according-to-mom.html
Monday, April 20, 2009
Mahabaleshwar-April 2009
Robins seem to have become an integral part of my life ever since Chirpy touched our lives in 2008 in a very special way.My garden has plenty of robins flitting in and out and every time I hear a robin tweet,I immediately call out 'Chirpy'.So robins for me have become synonymous with Chirpy.Recently at Mahabaleshwar,the beautiful veranda of the room we stayed in had a little shrub.And guess what I found there.A nest of robins.I was totally delighted to see the nest within touching distance and 2 new born babies with their mouth wide open.The mother robin was very protective of her babies, and each time I ventured forth near her nest,she would come flying right at me to scare me off.I managed to click her perched on the wooden parapet keeping guard.Am sure she was happy to see us leave.
The weather was beautiful for April as compared to Pune.Warm days and chilly nights that made me wish I had packed a stole or a light jacket.I hadn't.I travelled in true summer style,all of us.Strawberry season was at its end and I didn't enjoy them at all.Too bitter and most of them rotten.What I got to do was simply relax.I read,listened to music,ate whenever I was hungry and also spent some good time at their health spa :-).
A week since I have been back and it already feels like a month has lapsed...
p.s Thanks flowegirl for correcting my limited knowledge..bulbul she is..
Tuesday, March 10, 2009
Setting goals
I never knew setting a goal for myself would be such a challenging process. I don’t mean just any goal but a goal which fitted into the parameters of Specific-Measurable-Ambitious-Realistic-Timebound-Ethical-Relevant.In short I had to set a SMARTER goal for myself. I could not say creating a better life for myself was my goal because it wasn’t specific enough. Soon I understood that most of what I wished for myself wasn’t a goal in the true sense of the word. And soon enough I also realized that among my group of 50, I was the only one floundering with setting a goal.
I tried it this way. Started from scratch. I wrote down my interests and my passions (!), what excited me, what drove me but by the end of it I was more confused. I asked A, asked friends and still nothing was clear. Everything I did and felt passionate about was to do with my children especially D.I could not imagine a goal that did not involve her. I ultimately realized that I had to work towards a goal that did not necessarily exclude her. I had to take care of her needs along with my own needs as an individual. Being a parent was just one part of me. (As if I didn’t know it). Maybe over the last 8 years, I had relegated all other parts to the background...
Why set a goal for myself at 42? Was it a mid life crisis or just a need to discover my lost identity? Or plain boredom? I don’t know. But I do know that the last 3 months of 2008 for me was a period of soul searching. I had plenty of questions for myself as to where I was heading as an individual. Some part of me also understood that I had to feed my inner self so that I could take care of others around me effortlessly. And the timing seemed right. I had the time, I had the energy and I had the willingness to learn and create an identity for myself.
Along the way of questioning, I interacted with few friends who were already doing something they loved. I asked them how they had discovered their passion. No one really went about discovering their passions, I understood then. It just happened along the way.
So I decided to let things be, gave up the mental struggle allowing things to simply happen and unfold.
And they have. And once I decided on a goal for myself, from that very moment, new doors are opening to lead me towards it. I find it an amazing journey so far.
I tried it this way. Started from scratch. I wrote down my interests and my passions (!), what excited me, what drove me but by the end of it I was more confused. I asked A, asked friends and still nothing was clear. Everything I did and felt passionate about was to do with my children especially D.I could not imagine a goal that did not involve her. I ultimately realized that I had to work towards a goal that did not necessarily exclude her. I had to take care of her needs along with my own needs as an individual. Being a parent was just one part of me. (As if I didn’t know it). Maybe over the last 8 years, I had relegated all other parts to the background...
Why set a goal for myself at 42? Was it a mid life crisis or just a need to discover my lost identity? Or plain boredom? I don’t know. But I do know that the last 3 months of 2008 for me was a period of soul searching. I had plenty of questions for myself as to where I was heading as an individual. Some part of me also understood that I had to feed my inner self so that I could take care of others around me effortlessly. And the timing seemed right. I had the time, I had the energy and I had the willingness to learn and create an identity for myself.
Along the way of questioning, I interacted with few friends who were already doing something they loved. I asked them how they had discovered their passion. No one really went about discovering their passions, I understood then. It just happened along the way.
So I decided to let things be, gave up the mental struggle allowing things to simply happen and unfold.
And they have. And once I decided on a goal for myself, from that very moment, new doors are opening to lead me towards it. I find it an amazing journey so far.
Friday, December 12, 2008
Moods
Almost every time I am greeted with her dour expression and it always takes me by surprise, sadness and a strange helplessness. Almost every day it spoils my mood too. The voice inside me screams out to yell and react but I manage to curb myself. Let me tell you this, counting up to 10 or wringing a wet towel doesn’t help in alleviating the anger. It shifts focus, true but the emotions linger on.
On ‘bad’ days (read that as PMS time, imbalanced moments), I am at my meanest best, sarcasm laden voice et al.On those rare ‘good’ days I actually ignore it all and carry on with whatever I am doing. And I manage to put that dour look away into one of the many compartments of my mind hoping it will resolve on its own.
And it actually does.
I see the dour expression shift into a total sour mood. This is followed by a silent phase and what seems to me like total withdrawal. You know the ‘leave me alone’ phase or ‘I have lots to do’.Through this transition of moods I hear snatches of conversations with friends and laughter. I wonder if the mood has dissipated or if it’s just reserved for me.
Motherhood and its privileges!
It’s the end of the day; ‘things’ (read moods) seem to have settled down a bit.
There is a smile perhaps which makes me venture forth with some inane question (the timing and choice of the question has to be right)...and soon I am greeted with some tidbits of sharing.
Bed time or nighttime, I feel is the best time to bond with ones children. Older children don’t need stories, they need ears to listen. I have learnt not to lecture or sermon. I have learnt not to immediately spark up and say, “in our times things were different” (they were different, everyone knows).I have learnt to listen yet not ask too much because it is then that all the outpourings happen...spontaneous,heartfelt,tears,litany of complaints..all of it.
I have heard the maximum amount of sharing and pouring out of angst from my teen at night just when I am about to log onto to check my mail or settle down with a book. The questions are many and to me so simple but when one is a teen I think everything to do with friends seems complex and irresolvable.
This is a wonderful yet challenging phase for me as a parent, raising a teen who needs me around more and a 7 year old who has special needs of her own.Well, by the time the 7 year old is a teen I would be an expert in moods...
I wish for more 'happy mood’ days
:-)
On ‘bad’ days (read that as PMS time, imbalanced moments), I am at my meanest best, sarcasm laden voice et al.On those rare ‘good’ days I actually ignore it all and carry on with whatever I am doing. And I manage to put that dour look away into one of the many compartments of my mind hoping it will resolve on its own.
And it actually does.
I see the dour expression shift into a total sour mood. This is followed by a silent phase and what seems to me like total withdrawal. You know the ‘leave me alone’ phase or ‘I have lots to do’.Through this transition of moods I hear snatches of conversations with friends and laughter. I wonder if the mood has dissipated or if it’s just reserved for me.
Motherhood and its privileges!
It’s the end of the day; ‘things’ (read moods) seem to have settled down a bit.
There is a smile perhaps which makes me venture forth with some inane question (the timing and choice of the question has to be right)...and soon I am greeted with some tidbits of sharing.
Bed time or nighttime, I feel is the best time to bond with ones children. Older children don’t need stories, they need ears to listen. I have learnt not to lecture or sermon. I have learnt not to immediately spark up and say, “in our times things were different” (they were different, everyone knows).I have learnt to listen yet not ask too much because it is then that all the outpourings happen...spontaneous,heartfelt,tears,litany of complaints..all of it.
I have heard the maximum amount of sharing and pouring out of angst from my teen at night just when I am about to log onto to check my mail or settle down with a book. The questions are many and to me so simple but when one is a teen I think everything to do with friends seems complex and irresolvable.
This is a wonderful yet challenging phase for me as a parent, raising a teen who needs me around more and a 7 year old who has special needs of her own.Well, by the time the 7 year old is a teen I would be an expert in moods...
I wish for more 'happy mood’ days
:-)
Sunday, December 07, 2008
Random thoughts again
I am waiting to see how I am going to handle D's surgical procedure this time..her 5th in the last 4 years.I know what it entails but each time I feel different.This time round I feel more relaxed and flowing although the underlying stress remains.Blame it on the maternal quirks.This time round D is also fearless about it.She told me she fears the anaesthesia more than the actual procedure and its discomfort.
D isn't here with me now.She decided to travel with her Nana-Nani in advance to Bombay and this is the 1st time she is away from me for 3 days.I get calls from her interspersed with a 'I love you Momma' but I sense she is enjoying her space away from me as much as I am.
Our home feels different without her.It suddenly seems quieter,tidier but too calm and serene for my liking.I am used to her laughter and squeals,the sound of her sandals as she comes stomping down the stairs loudly.I am used to my daily good night kisses and hugs from her.
I am also not used to having so much time on my hands.I had plenty of time to even indulge in some retail therapy and spending time on the computer today. Has motherhood absorbed me totally,in such an overwhelming way ?
But yes I got to spend great time with my precious older one A.I felt a sense of well being and contentment yesterday because A and I spent time just talking-about school,friends,books and a lot of stuff we hadn't spoken about in ages.I didn't cook,we ate from out and chatted and I actually played games on mini clip with her.She had to help me out many a time :).She finally told me, "Ma you are more relaxed without D around"! Definitely some truth there.She is wise for her age,my older one.It is like she is a double persona-the child in her and the growing woman in her , a beautiful blend.
I have redone the guest room to accommodate D with her cast and the therapies that will follow soon after.She will have a lot of school work to catch up on while recovering but that is something she and I are both looking forward to...playing games,watching TV,listening to music and reading books and going for walks-she in her wheelchair (will be a new experience for her and for me too ).
D isn't here with me now.She decided to travel with her Nana-Nani in advance to Bombay and this is the 1st time she is away from me for 3 days.I get calls from her interspersed with a 'I love you Momma' but I sense she is enjoying her space away from me as much as I am.
Our home feels different without her.It suddenly seems quieter,tidier but too calm and serene for my liking.I am used to her laughter and squeals,the sound of her sandals as she comes stomping down the stairs loudly.I am used to my daily good night kisses and hugs from her.
I am also not used to having so much time on my hands.I had plenty of time to even indulge in some retail therapy and spending time on the computer today. Has motherhood absorbed me totally,in such an overwhelming way ?
But yes I got to spend great time with my precious older one A.I felt a sense of well being and contentment yesterday because A and I spent time just talking-about school,friends,books and a lot of stuff we hadn't spoken about in ages.I didn't cook,we ate from out and chatted and I actually played games on mini clip with her.She had to help me out many a time :).She finally told me, "Ma you are more relaxed without D around"! Definitely some truth there.She is wise for her age,my older one.It is like she is a double persona-the child in her and the growing woman in her , a beautiful blend.
I have redone the guest room to accommodate D with her cast and the therapies that will follow soon after.She will have a lot of school work to catch up on while recovering but that is something she and I are both looking forward to...playing games,watching TV,listening to music and reading books and going for walks-she in her wheelchair (will be a new experience for her and for me too ).
Thursday, October 16, 2008
Joy of playing
Children can be unknowingly cruel.It took me a while to understand that especially after D's birth.When anything deviates from the norm,they can be cruel in their ignorance.Do we need lessons on how to accept something or someone who is different from ourselves?Do children need to understand that from their parents?
Skating classes have commenced recently in the place we live.D hasn't joined the class due to her limitations although it is a sore point with her.The teacher however insists she come and watch the kids skate and play the games post skating.Yesterday was one such day when D joined in the games.She was happy and excited about it as she is on most Monday's and Wednesday's.It was a running relay race and D was leading one line and a small boy the other line.The instructor asked the kids to join the lines but no one wanted to join D's line.The reason was obvious.No one wanted to lose the race .I saw the kids crying and even stomping their feet on the ground adamant about not joining the line.All because they would not win.
A part of me went out for D,not because she was my daughter or that she had limitations.She remained blissfully unaware that the children were throwing tantrums because of her being there.She never understood that her limitations were being perceived as a disadvantage by the other children.And there was a sadness in me seeing the children so focused on winning ,so totally focused 'only' on winning that they had forgotten the simple joys of just playing a game for fun.
For me D was way ahead of the rest.Not only was she delighted about the whole game and taking part in a relay,she did it with total joy despite stumbling and falling.She reached the finish line with a loud 'yeeeaahhh'.. while the rest of the kids sulked and ran.
There are times when I wonder if I will ever stop getting emotional about her and her experiences as she grows.But then A always tells me-'Toughen up"!!.I haven't yet.
Skating classes have commenced recently in the place we live.D hasn't joined the class due to her limitations although it is a sore point with her.The teacher however insists she come and watch the kids skate and play the games post skating.Yesterday was one such day when D joined in the games.She was happy and excited about it as she is on most Monday's and Wednesday's.It was a running relay race and D was leading one line and a small boy the other line.The instructor asked the kids to join the lines but no one wanted to join D's line.The reason was obvious.No one wanted to lose the race .I saw the kids crying and even stomping their feet on the ground adamant about not joining the line.All because they would not win.
A part of me went out for D,not because she was my daughter or that she had limitations.She remained blissfully unaware that the children were throwing tantrums because of her being there.She never understood that her limitations were being perceived as a disadvantage by the other children.And there was a sadness in me seeing the children so focused on winning ,so totally focused 'only' on winning that they had forgotten the simple joys of just playing a game for fun.
For me D was way ahead of the rest.Not only was she delighted about the whole game and taking part in a relay,she did it with total joy despite stumbling and falling.She reached the finish line with a loud 'yeeeaahhh'.. while the rest of the kids sulked and ran.
There are times when I wonder if I will ever stop getting emotional about her and her experiences as she grows.But then A always tells me-'Toughen up"!!.I haven't yet.
Tuesday, October 07, 2008
Baking
I baked today....finally! After some 11 months,I actually felt the urge to bake.So 2 batches of brownies it was.And what a wonderful way to unwind.I have had a rough 3 weeks with A not around and have been caught up in the routine of daily life and constant rush.No maid,bleary eyed morning 5 am wake up and frayed nerves almost everyday.
I had my dinner and then decided to bake.The kitchen was clean and quiet.The girls were up in their room with their books and music and I loved this me-time ..alone,humming and enjoying every bit of the baking process from mixing the ingredients to tasting them as well :).No noise,no bells-just peace.
Soon enough the aroma filled our entire home and the girls were most curious as to why their constantly harried mom had decided to bake late at night.They usually don't worry where I am or what I am doing as long as I am at home.But today was different.Two puzzled and yes,hungry faces looking up at me very sweetly.They not only devoured half of the first batch ,they were longingly looking at the second batch as well.
I now know how the fragrance of freshly baked warm brownies can soften the hardest of hearts and cause instant mood changes from sad t0 happy.
Excellent form of therapy it can be!
Now am left wondering why do I feel so full-perhaps all that tasting...
I had my dinner and then decided to bake.The kitchen was clean and quiet.The girls were up in their room with their books and music and I loved this me-time ..alone,humming and enjoying every bit of the baking process from mixing the ingredients to tasting them as well :).No noise,no bells-just peace.
Soon enough the aroma filled our entire home and the girls were most curious as to why their constantly harried mom had decided to bake late at night.They usually don't worry where I am or what I am doing as long as I am at home.But today was different.Two puzzled and yes,hungry faces looking up at me very sweetly.They not only devoured half of the first batch ,they were longingly looking at the second batch as well.
I now know how the fragrance of freshly baked warm brownies can soften the hardest of hearts and cause instant mood changes from sad t0 happy.
Excellent form of therapy it can be!
Now am left wondering why do I feel so full-perhaps all that tasting...
Saturday, September 20, 2008
ATT
I attended a workshop on Animal Assisted Therapy(AAT) for children with special needs at D's school today.I had heard about it and how it can help not only children who are challenged but also normal children and adults who are lonely or depressed.However this was the first time I actually saw a brilliant presentation on it and how it can positively impact children who need non conventional therapies such as these.It was moving to see the 'before' and 'after' videos of a small boy who was silent and non communicative in the before stage and after 15 weeks of AAT he was transformed-a totally different child-smiling and conversing with the dog,cuddling him and responding to questions.What struck me were his eyes,lifeless and dead in the 'before' stage and in the post therapy 'after' stage they were filled with life,curiosity and wonder.Animals heal I know because they do not judge ,criticize or label you.They are aware and alert and love unconditionally.The animals used were ordinary dogs who had been trained for this purpose.Even cats and rabbits are used to help children who are fearful of large dogs.I am keen for D to start this and to expose her to ATT .I know the power of animals in healing those wounds one cannot heal oneself .
Sunday, August 10, 2008
Ecphrasis
How does it feel to kiss through a veil?Where we can’t see each other,
and nothing is revealed.
Like a shroud we wear it, hidden
from the rest of our world
Yet a closeness I can sense
as our kiss unfolds.
How I would love to see your eyes
and caress your skin.
Yet the passion of your kiss
I can feel within.
I don’t know who you are
or what is it that you do?
But you will always remain
my ‘veiled’ kissing stranger,
Till we bid each other adieu.
Written for a fortnightly theme on 'Star crossed lovers' for Shakespeare & Co writers network on Ryze
Monday, August 04, 2008
Chirpy
She took over our lives by storm. She arrived as a baby on June 7th when I rescued her, injured and wet from under a palm shrub. All I could see was a small black furry ball like creature with its mouth wide open. She didn’t win over my heart immedietly, just that my silly maternal instincts overpowered me. And I decided to get her home. A newspaper lined shoe box was quickly arranged for and the little fledgling had its first home and family with us. I was clueless as to what to feed her and I was certainly not going to start searching for worms. Two kind friends gave me some great suggestions so she had her hourly feeds of mashed rice with milk. I stayed awake the night for her just as I had done for my two kids. It was like going down memory lane. I suddenly felt very responsible for her and maternal love flowed unashamedly.She is now almost 8 weeks old and has a name Chirpy. She is still small but has a beautiful crest and plume (the red shades are now visible) like all robins do. She responds to her name and converses with me whenever she finds me sitting idle on the verandah cane chair. She is like a typical child, sulks when scolded and hides when she poops on my shoulder(my poor sodden t -shirt).She knows how to express her love beautifully and makes up with me by hopping onto my shoulder and quickly scurrying towards my neck and pecking my ear lobe ever so gently. Talk about knowing how to express love!
Wonderful lessons she has taught me. Thanks to her I just sit back,relax and enjoy my garden. When she was a baby I would take her for long walks under the fruit trees and shake the rain drenched leaves. She would twitter away happily and I would squeal with the shower of rain. I would let her be on the freshly mowed grass and I would sit with her on the grass in my best clothes regardless of the mud, slush and worms.
She would patiently sit through my yoga class watching over me without disturbing me and would fall asleep with the Om chanting.My time spent with her is the most carefree time I have had in ages.
August 4th.
I just returned from a trip to Bombay where Diti and I had attended a workshop. I took Chirpy along and what a well behaved sweetheart she was. Throughout the car journey she perched on my shoulder. And she is trained enough to get off my shoulder and poop on the paper napkin I had kept at a safe distance.
We got back yesterday and after the narrow confines of the Bombay apartment she flew into our garden twittering. She had chocolate milkshake with me and some vegetables and flew out to play again. She never came back. She usually does return by sunset after playing close by but this time she just disappeared.
I hope she is flying somewhere-the free soul that she was but then that is a reassurance I cant have faith in. She was just too small to fly high yet. Perhaps she died. What a heartbreaking feeling it is and I miss her terribly, her birdsong and her gentle presence on my shoulder through the day. Thanks for touching my life Chirpy and giving me two months of your unconditional love.
I love you
Thursday, June 05, 2008
Impromptu venting
Why does poor customer service always get on my nerves? Not just my nerves, it just gets to me totally like very few things do. I actually see RED.I have to stop myself there and then from giving a long speech on the importance of a customer and what good quality service can achieve. Sadly I never stop myself.
I am no perfectionist but I hate being served a lukewarm hot chocolate when the menu reads “Hot Chocolate”. The chap at Coffee Day served me just that –a luke warm hot chocolate and I was having one after ages. Something I wanted to savor and relish right from the first sip. I took a sip and there it began—this feeling of being cheated. I returned it with a request to serve it hot but then when it arrived the charm was lost.Aaargh !!
I opt for a large branded store which I assume would stock a variety of lingerie since the shop is so huge. When I arrive, the store is filled with numerous attendants but none in the lingerie section. I look around for help and it seems to me the staff refuses to catch my eye. Perhaps they veer away from the lingerie section. I cannot think of any other plausible reason. Finally some help arrives after 10 minutes, albeit with a reluctant blanked out look. And I eagerly tell her my size and requirements that are simple and no frills(I mean for my lingerie).She sizes me up and shows me hideous padded ones in midnight blue and shocking reds and believe it or not leopard prints. I didn’t ask for them, I tell her. She tells me that these are all they have. Damn! I see red again, hold myself in check and politely walk away. I ask for the head of customer service (if there is one), she isn’t available. I tell the staff who is looking most uncomfortable, “The service here is pathetic. You need to streamline your operations” and I say it all straight-faced with not a hint of the anger I am feeling. And before I can complete what I need to say (I do have lots to say by then), the lady starts apologizing profusely. (How does that help I wonder? I still haven’t got the bra I needed. Fruitless trip! Except that the anger has not only hit my nerves but my poor brain as well).I am left wondering who wears bras like those. I guess there must be takers since that is all they stock.
At a restaurant where the children and I are having lunch, I chose a Tandoori Roti and the girls ‘Naans” along with their side dishes. The food arrives after a good 45 minutes though we are the only patrons. No worries. I am willing to wait over an animated conversation with the kids. The food arrives...my Tandoori Roti looks exactly like the Naans that the girls are eating! There I go again. I call the chap who has taken the order and ask him whether he got the order right about the Rotis. He happily and nonchalantly says, “Yes Madam, yours is the Tandoori Roti and theirs is the ‘Naan’.I ask him what the difference is...“they look the same”. To my horror he tells me ‘Madam, There is no difference between a Naan and a Tandoori Roti.The Naan is a little bigger that’s all”! Huh!!Now if anyone has ever eaten aa aan and a Tandoori Roti, they would know that there IS a difference. But he is firm. And I chew down the thick bread wondering why if the darn Naan and Tandoori Roti are the same; the restaurant has it listed separately in their menu.
When the chap arrives again to ask me if I wish to order more Rotis, I look at him with a raised eyebrow (I actually managed that) and tell him,” You were right earlier. Not only do they look the same, they taste the same-like leather’ (ha ha ha...He slinks away so sheepishly that I don’t catch a glimpse of him until we leave).
And all of this leaves me wondering. Am I demanding or expecting too much? I have been told my previous job has made me set high standards for service and that I am too sensitive to small trivia like this. But I feel like screaming that this isn’t trivial or small. It means a lot. Maybe it is to do with me. Or is it Pune? Or is that Bombay has spoilt me for other cities? Well I know as I spend more time in this city that now feels like home, the answers are bound to unravel.
Here's to a more chilled out laidback ‘Me’ and no more ‘poor service’ experiences(fingers crossed) :)
I am no perfectionist but I hate being served a lukewarm hot chocolate when the menu reads “Hot Chocolate”. The chap at Coffee Day served me just that –a luke warm hot chocolate and I was having one after ages. Something I wanted to savor and relish right from the first sip. I took a sip and there it began—this feeling of being cheated. I returned it with a request to serve it hot but then when it arrived the charm was lost.Aaargh !!
I opt for a large branded store which I assume would stock a variety of lingerie since the shop is so huge. When I arrive, the store is filled with numerous attendants but none in the lingerie section. I look around for help and it seems to me the staff refuses to catch my eye. Perhaps they veer away from the lingerie section. I cannot think of any other plausible reason. Finally some help arrives after 10 minutes, albeit with a reluctant blanked out look. And I eagerly tell her my size and requirements that are simple and no frills(I mean for my lingerie).She sizes me up and shows me hideous padded ones in midnight blue and shocking reds and believe it or not leopard prints. I didn’t ask for them, I tell her. She tells me that these are all they have. Damn! I see red again, hold myself in check and politely walk away. I ask for the head of customer service (if there is one), she isn’t available. I tell the staff who is looking most uncomfortable, “The service here is pathetic. You need to streamline your operations” and I say it all straight-faced with not a hint of the anger I am feeling. And before I can complete what I need to say (I do have lots to say by then), the lady starts apologizing profusely. (How does that help I wonder? I still haven’t got the bra I needed. Fruitless trip! Except that the anger has not only hit my nerves but my poor brain as well).I am left wondering who wears bras like those. I guess there must be takers since that is all they stock.
At a restaurant where the children and I are having lunch, I chose a Tandoori Roti and the girls ‘Naans” along with their side dishes. The food arrives after a good 45 minutes though we are the only patrons. No worries. I am willing to wait over an animated conversation with the kids. The food arrives...my Tandoori Roti looks exactly like the Naans that the girls are eating! There I go again. I call the chap who has taken the order and ask him whether he got the order right about the Rotis. He happily and nonchalantly says, “Yes Madam, yours is the Tandoori Roti and theirs is the ‘Naan’.I ask him what the difference is...“they look the same”. To my horror he tells me ‘Madam, There is no difference between a Naan and a Tandoori Roti.The Naan is a little bigger that’s all”! Huh!!Now if anyone has ever eaten aa aan and a Tandoori Roti, they would know that there IS a difference. But he is firm. And I chew down the thick bread wondering why if the darn Naan and Tandoori Roti are the same; the restaurant has it listed separately in their menu.
When the chap arrives again to ask me if I wish to order more Rotis, I look at him with a raised eyebrow (I actually managed that) and tell him,” You were right earlier. Not only do they look the same, they taste the same-like leather’ (ha ha ha...He slinks away so sheepishly that I don’t catch a glimpse of him until we leave).
And all of this leaves me wondering. Am I demanding or expecting too much? I have been told my previous job has made me set high standards for service and that I am too sensitive to small trivia like this. But I feel like screaming that this isn’t trivial or small. It means a lot. Maybe it is to do with me. Or is it Pune? Or is that Bombay has spoilt me for other cities? Well I know as I spend more time in this city that now feels like home, the answers are bound to unravel.
Here's to a more chilled out laidback ‘Me’ and no more ‘poor service’ experiences(fingers crossed) :)
Thursday, October 25, 2007
Shifting -Bombay to Pune
September12th 2007, Bombay
The day I am shifting I see the scaffolding come off. One bamboo piece after the other until the entire view of the sea lies bare –a vast shimmering expanse of blue. Today she is gentle as her waves lap softly, silently, blue grey with specks of white. I simply stand and gaze at her. I can do it forever I feel. But at this moment time suddenly seems short. Over the past months, our apartment complex was undergoing a major renovation and overhaul. The scaffoldings were up and I was cut off from the beautiful view of the sea from our window. Now it all seems so poignant. The sea is back for me to glimpse but I am not going to be here. She has become so much a part of my daily life. As I go about my day I glimpse her shimmer briefly and many a time I have put everything on hold and just watched her. She, as silent as me. At times reflecting exactly what I feel.
To the left of my home, I see a huge ‘pandal’ being erected just as it is done each year for Lord Ganapati’s arrival. Banners flutter, the fairy lights are being fixed, children play around amidst the general hustle –bustle. A sense of nostalgia overcomes me as I remember the previous “Ganapati Pujas”, their festive fervour and happiness that lingers on in the air for a long time.
Everything seems to be touched with a twinge of nostalgia yet newness.
Living in a city for 13 years that I call home has been an experience I will always cherish. Intense familiarity be it in seeing the sunrise with its freshness and newness each morning or the sunset in its fascinating hues and shades. I have got accustomed to my life here, my friends, the reassuring routine of daily living, the smell of the city with its salty air sometimes awash with its ‘fishy’ fragrance. And yes, its people, the buzz that is all pervasive and constantly being on the move. And now when its time to move home, am short of words.A city can grow on you easily just like a home can. In this case it has grown on me and helped me grow too.
October 22, 2007, Pune
The period of transition from one city to the other, from our old home to a new home has been a whirlwind. Awakening to a new view, spending my days differently, new routines to be established and new ways of doing things. Yet it feels unreal. The home we have chosen to rent out is one of those old style bungalows with sloping roofs. A beautiful garden resplendent with fruit trees and flowering shrubs encloses it. I take off time to sit on the stone bench in the garden and see the different hues and shades that surround me. The sounds of the garden, watching the butterflies, touching the leaves or simply going barefoot on the green grass bring out the child in me. And am struck as to how nature can be so powerful yet soothing, be it in the sea or in a bright and sunny garden. I enjoy her warm and gentle energy through the day.
There are many moments when I yearn for my comfort zone and crave for the energy that is passionate and driven; the one I have been used to for so long that it has become a habit. Perhaps this gentle serene energy will become part of my comfort zone soon...
The day I am shifting I see the scaffolding come off. One bamboo piece after the other until the entire view of the sea lies bare –a vast shimmering expanse of blue. Today she is gentle as her waves lap softly, silently, blue grey with specks of white. I simply stand and gaze at her. I can do it forever I feel. But at this moment time suddenly seems short. Over the past months, our apartment complex was undergoing a major renovation and overhaul. The scaffoldings were up and I was cut off from the beautiful view of the sea from our window. Now it all seems so poignant. The sea is back for me to glimpse but I am not going to be here. She has become so much a part of my daily life. As I go about my day I glimpse her shimmer briefly and many a time I have put everything on hold and just watched her. She, as silent as me. At times reflecting exactly what I feel.
To the left of my home, I see a huge ‘pandal’ being erected just as it is done each year for Lord Ganapati’s arrival. Banners flutter, the fairy lights are being fixed, children play around amidst the general hustle –bustle. A sense of nostalgia overcomes me as I remember the previous “Ganapati Pujas”, their festive fervour and happiness that lingers on in the air for a long time.
Everything seems to be touched with a twinge of nostalgia yet newness.
Living in a city for 13 years that I call home has been an experience I will always cherish. Intense familiarity be it in seeing the sunrise with its freshness and newness each morning or the sunset in its fascinating hues and shades. I have got accustomed to my life here, my friends, the reassuring routine of daily living, the smell of the city with its salty air sometimes awash with its ‘fishy’ fragrance. And yes, its people, the buzz that is all pervasive and constantly being on the move. And now when its time to move home, am short of words.A city can grow on you easily just like a home can. In this case it has grown on me and helped me grow too.
October 22, 2007, Pune
The period of transition from one city to the other, from our old home to a new home has been a whirlwind. Awakening to a new view, spending my days differently, new routines to be established and new ways of doing things. Yet it feels unreal. The home we have chosen to rent out is one of those old style bungalows with sloping roofs. A beautiful garden resplendent with fruit trees and flowering shrubs encloses it. I take off time to sit on the stone bench in the garden and see the different hues and shades that surround me. The sounds of the garden, watching the butterflies, touching the leaves or simply going barefoot on the green grass bring out the child in me. And am struck as to how nature can be so powerful yet soothing, be it in the sea or in a bright and sunny garden. I enjoy her warm and gentle energy through the day.
There are many moments when I yearn for my comfort zone and crave for the energy that is passionate and driven; the one I have been used to for so long that it has become a habit. Perhaps this gentle serene energy will become part of my comfort zone soon...
Tuesday, August 14, 2007
I have been tagged
I am surprised,me of all people tagged!!But tagged by a good friend neverthless who I did not have the heart to curse under my breath -Pragya!!
I have to list six of the weirdest things about me.
* My ears are shaped funnily like a caulifower and my nickname at college was yes you guessed it right-"cauilflower ears"
* I love meeting people but hate speaking in public..something inside just clams up(is that weird?)
* There may be chaos all around me but you will find me in the kitchen cooking while listening to music as if nothing is happening.
*I can make up songs and rhymes in a jiffy.It works!
* I say No but I actually deep down mean an "Yes"
* I am a pro at lipreading so no one can keep secrets from me.
I have to list six of the weirdest things about me.
* My ears are shaped funnily like a caulifower and my nickname at college was yes you guessed it right-"cauilflower ears"
* I love meeting people but hate speaking in public..something inside just clams up(is that weird?)
* There may be chaos all around me but you will find me in the kitchen cooking while listening to music as if nothing is happening.
*I can make up songs and rhymes in a jiffy.It works!
* I say No but I actually deep down mean an "Yes"
* I am a pro at lipreading so no one can keep secrets from me.
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