29 January, 2012

A Passionate Packer..

I LOVE to pack. I do. Whether am packing up clothes after winter's over, packing for a trip or just storing away excesses- packing is F-U-N!

It could come from all the packing and unpacking I've been exposed to in my gypsy life. Having put down roots in a city for the 1st time in my life I don't get to haul out the suitcases, duffle bags since travelling's kept to a minimum. Not by choice though...some things play out this way.

While I was packing for a trip I'm going to be taking shortly, I could recall vividly that packing had always been accompanied with a sense of anticipation rather than just being a task that was necessary. Packing brought with it plans for a change of place and pace; meeting new people, reconnecting with old ones; a different experience if not an adventure altogether!

I packed with relief when I used to go home from college and the hostel for the holidays. With downright woe when I had to leave people behind and start off in a new place. With mixed feelings when I packed my bags before my marriage. With trepidation when I packed my hospital bag before I went into labor and with glee now that I'm packing for a beach holiday. Never mind that along with the fun will also go some odds and ends and plenty of 'just-in-case' stuff. But packing always signals the start of a new phase and I guess, having a largely home-bound life; I always welcome change.

And then comes unpacking. And with it comes surprises- pleasant and unpleasant. Gifts you bring back from trips, those special jars of yummies that accompany a kid staying in a hostel, spills of all conceivable kind, things that prove just how fragile they are and every other kind paraphernalia that we deem important enough to keep with us.

So this post has turned out to be an ode to packing...may I keep needing my suitcase more than just for it's annual trip down from the loft to change the Odonil cakes and naphthalene balls.

21 January, 2012

What's SO Satanic About It?

I have *NOT* read the The Satanic Verses. The ban being that of a socio-political nature I doubt I will ever get my hands on the book. Be as that may, the question does crop up, " what is so pejorative in that book"?

Is it possibly the choice of the word " satanic"? Well Wikipedia (whom more than half of the world trusts) has this to say about the source of Rushdie's choice of name for his novel.
I wonder if half the people who rail against him have read his work. Whatever synopsis and reviews I read (one of them by a Muslim no less) speak about the metaphors, imagery and symbolism employed. None of them talk about it being an Islam bashing book.

To be honest, I don't particularly care about Salman Rushdie or his writing. Too damn long and meandering by half! My mind is still fogged up about Midnight's Children and to think it won the Booker of Bookers; but that's just me. I firmly believe in respecting peoples' thoughts and attitudes simply by up holding that they have a right to espouse what they want. But when their thoughts and beliefs are challenged by the multitude as being wrong simply because another leader (now deceased) in another country decried as being blasphemous and it leads to worldwide uproar and threats to a person's life come into the picture; by all means let's examine such an allegedly offending piece of work so the decade -long debate can come to an end.

People have lashed out at M.F Hussain about painting Indian deities in a "vulgar" manner. Did the junta actually see the pictures on their own and get outraged about a partially clothed devi or did they just follow the lead of the rabble rouser who did see it and found a new platform to gain attention for him/herself?

Religion is a deeply personal matter. When something is personal people become sensitive towards it. But take a look at the person who's created that work of art (book or painting or sculpture). Are they those figures of debauchery who would defile something that millions of people hold holy just to give their expressions an outlet? Does Rushdie like living under a fatwa that some overzealous nut might actually carry out someday without even knowing the essence of the book?
Or for that matter is it even justified that Taslima Nasrin couldn't portray the incidences that women in her country, including she herself, face just because it shone a less than favorable light on the situation? What's the result? The lady lives on Indian soil, on Indian tax payers' money and is still courting controversy as per what wiki tells me.

See, that's the part of the problem- we're getting out information on "how" things are from other sources. Be it reliable or not is not being considered much. The reaction to that information is often severe and not thought out well.

If these fatwas or for that matter any death threat is carried out against an individual because they voiced their opinion about topics that others held dear and found derogatory, what kind of result would that be? I doubt the world at large would applaud "death to the infidels". It would be shameful indeed and inhumane. Satanic even.

So the next time you don't like someone's artistic rendition- consider if it offends your sensibilities or whether someone else is telling you that it does. If you find yourself offended, there are plenty of avenues of expressing yourself. Trying to annihilate the source is ridiculous and quite like being in a video game.
We switch tv channels when nothing good is on, well simply move onto the next painting or put down the book.

It offers more peace of mind and keeps things from becoming a major issue. After all, don't we have a gazillion things to do before "world peace" is attained?

20 January, 2012

Turning a Proverb on It's Head...

Throughout my school days the proverb of "an empty mind being the devil's workshop" has been echoed by teachers, principals, students in charge of the noticeboard duty and other bored, uninspired people.

But what happens when the mind isn't empty but brimming over with ideas? I'd say that qualifies for a barrel full of devils..imagine Lucifer, Beelzebub and Mephistopheles in a heady cocktail mix. Gives one pause?

I have a very strong feeling that little children, aged 2 years and above have so many thoughts running through their minds, so many things stimulating them, inciting their curiosity that that their resulting actions often bring out the imp in them.
And who better to take as an example than my own offspring?

He's been fascinated with this-
 for a very, very long time. The locking mechanism is what drew him ironically and the texture interested him enough to have him seek it out from it's various hiding places. And with the patience of a lion hunting its prey, he waited and watched and with bated breath found a window of opportunity when I was busy and got it in his grasp.

I'm not sure *how* he managed it, but I guess he stood on his scooter for leverage and managed to inch it closer to himself using a pencil I'd seen him handling earlier in the day but had forgotten to keep out of his reach.

I was a bit busier than usual with some kitchen remodeling work and thought MLM safely and entirely engrossed in his Chhota Bheem cartoon. By the time I was done and went to tousle the hair of my hitherto fairly still child, I found him covered head to toe in my hand&foot cream. He'd eaten some, liberally applied the rest on his clothes, hands, legs and let's not forget the sofa!
He was so creamed up that he had become slippery.

We trekked to the bathroom where he sat patiently enough and let me hose him off; now that his objective was accomplished. And soon after that he kept asking for more cream, " Give kleem". Yeah right! Like I need my walls smelling of aloe vera as well.

But that's the kissa kream ka. Oh and he ran away with the veggie peeler, the screwdriver and broke a glass vessel also. All within the span of an hour.

All in a day's work for a preschooler I'd say.

Right about now I'd like to test out that hypothesis about the empty minds...it simply CANNOT be any worse than his filled-to-the-brim noggin, can it?

16 January, 2012

A Post Written but Forgotten

"I'd blogged on Sunday late night and then this was meant to be the follow-up post. I couldn't get to it as sleep, child and basically life happened. So here it is now"-

24 is was. 4 or 5 episodes of it, after the last blog post. I tried to sleep (Red thinks I fight sleep once it's disturbed) but the cold and the unrest was making me toss and turn. 
It's an entirely different thing that am sleepy as HELL right now. Hang on...is there sleep in Hell? I always thought it was damnation without relief...but that's a topic best left for another day.

I finally called it a night around 7:30 in the morning and woke Red up. I'm up now only because Red had some work and MLM would never play by himself for too long before our spider senses warn us of some or the other of his shenanigans.

Thresholds are funny things. I remember in psychometrics we used to try to define them to see where it existed for the majority of the population in a particular experiment and then draw a conclusion w.r.t an absolute threshold
I find that conditioning works quite well in curbing or rather raising the bar. If you give into a physiological need (eating, sleeping et al) as and when it arises, you may mentally condition yourself to experience a low threshold of them viz you might not be able to sustain hunger pangs for too long, stay awake for too long etc.

If you try and defer the physical gratification, it may not necessarily lessen but the ability to tolerate the absence of gratification can definitely increase in time. It should be kept in mind that half the reaction we feel is in our mind. If you're hungry then seeing food that is available would trigger feeling of being sated in our minds leading to a sense of satisfaction and even relief, again leading to a sense of security that allows the body to relax.

Anything that causes a sense of want or need in the body tends to evoke some amount of anxiety along with it. Anxiety shouldn't be equated with panic here...just a sense of restlessness or elevated tension in our mind and body till the body's equilibrium is restored, along with that of the mind.

I have no empirical data along with this post, given that it's centered around psychophysics, senses et al. But I am sleepy, have become conditioned one could say, to sleeping by 10:30 pm at the very latest and here I stayed up more than half the night without dozing off. But am contemplating all this now because am QUITE sleepy, am required to be TOTALLY vigilant and it'll be HOURS before I can think of crashing. See, my Freudian slip is showing...am crashing into things anyhow because am not all rested.

So what's the conclusion that can be drawn from all this- GET YOUR SLEEP or bonk yourself on the head to get knocked out. Keifer Sutherland ain't going nowhere and neither will you if you're a deadbeat zombie for the next 24 hours that you are up and not running. 

Counting the yawns till I connect with a horizontal surface. 

Early Morning Huff-Puffe

I went to the gym while it was still dark out. Necessity rather than an early bird-worm fervor. MLM has no school today owing to the kite flying festival. No place to leave him if I need to go at my usual time ergo rise with the roosters.

But early morning exercise (though grumble-inducing) is just great! If your body's received its quota of even adequate sleep then you're good to go!
Plus, everything's different early in the day. More of feathered and four-legged beings around rather than the gas-belching one and scurrying two-legged ones.

I normally space out on the treadmill either listening to music or taking in the scenery. And I must say, Hyderabad early in the morning and late at night really appeal to me. It's not particularly serene per se, or even cleaner but there's just something about it.

Saw a whole flock of white and whiteish pigeons. Never seen a whole flock together before. But the gym was where the fun was- there was an assortment of us working out. But they were two clear-cut groups nonetheless- 
the bleary-eyed ones who were looking to be excused from exercise so they could go back to sleep and
 the eager beaver ones who were literally chomping at the bit to start pumping and start looking like the Guvernator :)

I'll see how the rest of the day goes...if my stamina doesn't fail me and I don't fall asleep while bathing MLM I just might start going in the morning from now on.

On such good intentions, the world spins just a lil more jauntily!


Sunday workouts...

I got major surprise yesterday the gym. To the extent that I almost stood still while I was on the treadmill and we all know that'd have been funny!
To suddenly stop while on a moving object means that the momentum will carry you back and make sure you land on your hieney!

Red had brought MLM out for a walk in the sun and they decided to trek up to the gym and say hello. Two of the trainers got MLM inside the exercise area and they crept up on me much to his delight. He kept giggling like a girl and covering his mouth with his hands and saying, "Mamma, hee hee hee". I guess seeing his mother all hot and bothered gave him his entertainment for the day.

But then I saw his eyes light up...all those equipments to climb up on...those cycles most of all! Thankfully I was feeling the sting of the cold still and wrapped up my exercise quickly else it'd have been tough taking him away from it all.

My kid loose inside a gym...ye gods! Memberships cancellation stories are made of this :)

15 January, 2012

In the Middle of the Night...

there's not a whole lot that goes through your mind when you can't sleep. You fight irritation, some amount of sadness that a you aren't burrowed under the covers and snoring your small pakoda nose off!

A chilling wave's hit Hyderabad of late. Don't know where it came from, don't know how long it's going to remain but wish the Met department had forecast it or even hinted at it. I was hosing down MLM's highchair after he fed himself dinner last night and when I went to leave it out on the balcony to dry, such a blast of cold hit me!

Am a winter person complete with enjoying sardi ki dhoop and the comforters at night but bursts of cold do more harm than good. I'm down with a congestion and sore throat after a perfectly fun play date with a friend and her son since Friday afternoon and for the life in me I can't figure out how or where I caught the damn thing!

And wouldn't you know it? MLM has a bit of congestion now too! He kept getting up, whining and finally I rocked him to sleep, with him snoring away in my ear. Mother love can be sorely tested at such times. The kid looks lean to me but sitting like a lump on my lap when I'd rather be horizontal, he was downright heavy! Finally eased him onto the bed and thought I'd blog for a bit.

I was wondering what to do while I was sitting with him. I wished my Kindle had a backlight. I haven't been able to read through the night sitting in my own bed since I got married. Red can't sleep even if a teeny, tiny sliver of light exists in the room he's snoozing in. So I'd get cozy on the sofas and read till the words would get blurred in front of my eyes or I'd be startled by my alarm and realize I'd stayed up the entire night.

Of all the things I thought I could do while monkey boy was using me as his mattress these were the few that made it to my top 10 (yes I make lists. For most occasions. I'm weird, I know.) :

  1. play with MLM's play doh and make some more funny faces to stick up on the fridge.
  2. iron all the things that I can't or won't give to the presswala.
  3. make myself a cup of honey and ginger tea.
  4. read some of the vampire fiction I've downloaded on the Kindle.
  5. Watch as many episodes of the Castle S3 rerun.
  6. Watch as many episodes of 24 S1. Yes, I'm a 24 newbie and haven't yet decided if I love it or if it's just going to be a watch and delete.
  7. Go over MLM's baby pictures and rue over how chubby he used to be as opposed to now and how much life was easier again; as opposed to now.
  8. Take out the old photo albums from college and just smile to myself at how we all were.
  9. Tackle one of the looooong-pending tasks on my things-to-do list.
  10. Shop online for stuff I don't need and probably don't want but what the heck?
I still don't know which of these am going to do since I'd like to be able to get to the gym without looking like a zombie. They already looked at me askance ever since they saw me work out one weekend in my Eddie the Head tee. It's almost as if it's totally incongruous that a chubby, short person could wear something like that. I've got that look from my obstetrician when I used to go for my prenatal scans. Once when I wore it during a breakfast with one of Red's friend's mom (that day I thought I really was an oddball the way the lady viewed me up and down). I could almost hear the words that she was not speaking viz "achhey ghar ki ladkiyan aise skull-shull waley kapdey nahin pehenti!"

The funniest reactions I've got to that item of clothing are from my father and son. The former just gave me a double take and made his typical moue about my taste of non-elegant clothing and the latter (when he finally noticed Eddie) thought he was a Swami. 

Quick Note: MLM has a major God fixation aka the graphical representations of IT/HIM/HER. He loves Durga because she has a funky maned lion with her, Ganesha also finds favor with him since he loves elephants (he thinks they moo when they lift their trunks to trumpet :D) and of late he's been chanting Sai Baba till my ears are ready to fall off. His school's van driver pointed out the Sai Baba temple in a lane and since then any pictures of the aforementioned gent have to be scrutinized, commented up and some amount of namo namo has to be done.

So when MLM spied Eddie on my tee shirt, he thought the grinning, cross-legged person with glowing lights in front of him was a holy person and he was solemnly anointed as a Swami.

Anyhow...It's been less than 20 minutes that I've been blogging, and barring a need and desire to blow my nose I'm still drawing a blank at my next steps.

I guess 24 it is till something better or more urgent comes along.


09 January, 2012

Gym Chronicles-II

Hips Don't Lie!
In fact they're probably the most truthful part of your body when you're feeling this terrible pull of gravity and your knees want to kiss the ground desperately.

I apparently don't have very fat hips (accordingly to La Trainer Madame) but I need to work on them so they can carry the weight of a body that's out of shape. Way to go on making me feel better about myself!

Anyhoo...post the weights today my trainer said, "Let's cool down." I was happy...finally, my heart gets to stop galloping! She made me lie on the mats and said look up at the ceiling and hold the pose for 8 counts. Eeks. What kind of a trade-off is it when you get a neck cramp instead of feeling silent screams of your muscles.

But all gripes aside...I'm realizing which parts of my body are actually weak from disuse or are underutilized.
My arms don't have the same amount of strength. While that is true of the preferred hand vs. the non-preferred one but while working on toning the muscles of the upper body I find the biceps cry out for mercy the quickest.

The people at the gym are fairly sensible...they don't want me competing in Mrs.World by next year. They're letting me try out the basics and seeing where I falter the most. Those will form the exercise routine going forward.
But on a positive note..I increased the amount of weights I can pull a bit. Just a bit but I was hearing Rocky's theme song in my ears and I could've juxtaposed myself in Stallone's place running up the steps and then doing the jubilant jig.

My mind's a scary place I know. Who knows, maybe after the body gets in shape I can think about tackling the noggin.


08 January, 2012

High points of the day...

  1. Saw the offspring eat chocolate covered ketchup or vice versa and say "yum" with every bit.
  2. The monkey licked some ketchup off his french fries and found it lacking; instead of dipping it in ketchup again, he fed it to Red. Twice.
  3. Red had a nice, contented look on his face on being fed by his son suddenly. I chose not to enlighten him.
  4. Monkey boy sang the chorus of Bahara in the car each time the song came up.
  5. He also provided the "aaaa" vocals to  the chorus of Sadka Kiya
  6. MLM went looking for me all over the house calling out "Betu, betu, betuuuuuu".
  7. The crisp, clean sheets of the bed and with no clothes on it. For once.
  8. MLM smiling beatifically while watching Noddy and not clamoring for Chhota Bheem. For a change.
  9. Red and MLM watching Noddy Saves Christmas with rapt attention. One forgot to feed the other. The other forgot to eat.
  10. I managed to blog uninterrupted today. Twice.

making hay while the 'son' shines

Left the laptop unattended for barely a few seconds to get the Tataskaai (as MLM calls it) and once I was back on the loveseat I saw he’d opened Google and had started a search for Jhummandi Naadam (hyperlink JN here)! Before I make a 29 month old sound like a preschool prodigy let me clarify that he’d managed to put his paws on the letters J-H-U and Google had done the rest. Still, it gave me a start!
I have no illusions about my child. I’d have wanted it if he was walking earlier; talking more if it had happened about 6 months ago. But seeing how far he’s come along and the way he tries to imbibe things in his immediate environment; is enough for me. For now. While experts will say that children will do things on their own time and there have to be enough indicators to consider any milestone being delayed per se, I find that my child does something when it evokes curiosity in him and also induces some amount of confidence in him shall we say?
He took his 1st steps much before he actually started walking. I’d just taken him out of his bath and he took exactly 7 faltering steps in the bathroom. But soon after that he seemed bored by the prospect of walking and seemed to prefer his earlier mode of mobility viz crawling and walking while holding onto furniture, walls et al. A few days short of completing his 14th month he suddenly walked of his own free will and fairly steadily. I should mention that there was a Choco Lava cake and a Dominos pizza box on the coffee table at the time.
Once he walked that distance and was rewarded with a wee bit of the melted chocolate, he walked and walked and didn’t want to stop it. In fact Red and I were so thrilled that we sat at 2 ends of our hall (a big distance for a newbie walker mind you)and had him walk back and forth between us for over half an hour. I guess that borders on child abuse huh?  But he was only too glad to do it and since then rapidly picked up speed and has progressed now to the extent where he doesn’t bother with walking and only runs or flies low.
Kids learn vicariously for a long time to come. Even when their power of language and comprehension kick in properly, I guess that mode of watching something and repeating it because it appeals to them continues. Seeing how his facial expression changes I can tell when MLM has understood a particular instruction or tone. And the spanks come in when he chooses to disregard it and still wreck havoc all over the house! But his latest muse is Chhota Bheem. I really can’t stand that animated little munchkin for some reason but MLM lurves him! He smiles wider, bigger, glows when Bheems on the telly. He’s gone from saying just ‘Beem’ to “Shota Bheem’. He’s even started enacting kung fu poses courtesy the Christmas day telecast of Chhota Bheem Master of Shaolin. Well the kung fu poses and the Sumo wrestling bit that I’ve been doing with him for a while now J
But getting back to the vicarious learning bit- children need things that appeal to them. After they turn two, they seldom do things because they’re told to. They tend to focus more on things which seem fun because they can clearly distinguish between fun and being bored. If they knew the words they’d probably say them too but for now they just grumble and throw things when they want more of fun. At least mine does. And he claims he’d like to ‘THO’ me also!
So between lisps, mispronouncing stuff and a general goofiness our kids grow up and help us grow some too. Either that or we too regress so we can have fun with them eating mud and giggling hysterically at whatever amuses them. Somehow I think they got the better deal in that bargain.

Gym Chronicles-I

This is becoming what I like to call my version of the Huffington Post. Only in my head since there are copyright issues et al to consider. But Huffington because I huff and puff and almost get blown away and there's only one piggie to consider- again moi.

Ok back on track, back on track, keep up, keep up...hup two, three four! Very few people frequent a gym on Saturday afternoons and I'm glad. Sometimes a bit of solitude is also good while you're doing your thing on the cross trainers. But seriously two things- Akon and his Mr.Lonely. Not cool dude. Not cool. 1) Because it's animal cruelty to make chipmunks sing and that too such a lame song. 2) Because who in their right mind wants to work out with THAT song playing in the background. I swear my pace on the treadmill slowed down some.

But people who choose the music in gyms must know (or are just tone deaf) that an up tempo song automatically induces some stamina or increases the pace even a wee bit in the people exercising. Well it always has for me and I can't believe I'm the only one out there who speeds up and unconsciously undulates the hips to zesty songs. So they rectified their Akorny mistake and played Chhammak Chhalo...I increased my speed on the treadmill from 3.5 km/hr to 4.8! See. That's empirical data for you.

Ok, onto second uncool thing- why do the bicycle seats have to be so hard and SO small? Some of us happen to have enhanced our seating area and if the bicycle seat is the kind where my 2+ kid sits on, I think that's hardly fair! But I persevered keeping pay offs in mind and sat through a 15 minute cycling session. What happened to me afterwards hardly merits a mention beyond the fact that when gluteus maximus muscles fall asleep and then start waking up in patches, walking back is a pain indeed.

But coming home to a loving family where one ran to me and greeted me with open arms and the other said, "Go bathe, you stink". Made it all worthwhile.

Alrighty then. Even prisoners have time off for good behavior and I shall make use of my time to nurse the glutes back to health so they can get back on the horse come Monday.

*would salute but my arms hurt too much*

07 January, 2012


is so *not* what it's cracked up to be!

After becoming like the Big Bad Wolf (only imitating the huffing and puffing part and not becoming hirsute and having my ears shoot up higher than my head!) and countless nags from Red (who undoubtedly doesn't like to be on the higher end of a see-saw mattress) I finally went and joined the new neighborhood gym.

They were nice as all new gym people are. I was greeted with surprise (not!) on supplying the information that I had a child and was 30+ yada yada yada. And then one of the trainers conducted a one-one to determine the areas I needed help with aka where all my body needed to be broken before I could be put back together as a new person. Noo surprises when it was discovered that everything was covered with fat as snow and ice covers a tundra. An odd contraption that I had to hold at chin level apparently scanned my body and threw up a whole array of numbers that I was hoping wouldn't add up to bad news but they did.

In my defense- short people can come across as being far more chunkier than others simply because there's less area for the fat to settle on. And gravity acts quicker and in a far more menacing fashion on us as well.
But staying at home also led to raiding the fridge, eating (well eating should cover it all), getting exercise when my kid was being a typhoon and at all other times just collapsing with something to read or watch and my elixir aka coffee.

But let me actually start on the pain that awaited (and still does) me there. I might actually consider a move into the realm of BDSM after all this. Seriously.
I started with the cardio exercises and initially found that walking to gym from my house loosened up the calf muscles a bit and got the sweat glands activated some. I was hopeful. And then they put my cardiovascular system through the kind of damnation that left quite a bit of awareness of muscles and their tensing in areas I hadn't thought could hurt.

Yesterday I did weights for the first time. And although they started me with just 5 kgs (I thought..I lift a 13 kg kid everyday, so how hard can this be) I was gasping and doing the Lamaze-y breathing I did during my labor and was cursing (inside my head) because everything was on FIRRRREEE!
My upper body strength is pathetic, my knees feel like they should be glued down because they'll fall off after another stint of walk-run-pump puff puff! And somehow the trainers always know you're about to drink water like you spotted an oasis in the desert...SIPS only Madam. Sirf SIPS lena.

But my kid's been the biggest beneficiary of my initial days at the gym. After he comes home from school I'm so pooped I let him watch one or two extra episodes of Chhota Bheem since I can't chase him around the house if I switch the tv off. Also when he runs off he has to double back to find me because I'm still hobbling on after him whereas he's halfway to China.

But there are some interesting moments also. The cross training machine is by the side of the big glass wall.
And we're on the 3rd or 4th floor I guess. I get a good view of what's going on all around by the time I get to the cardio sections. Which is good because I get distracted enough to not keep obsessing about when the 15 minute set will be finally over and when I'll be able to sit somewhere and manage my knees and calf muscles like an old grandmother with rheumatism.

I noticed these things- there are very little trees in my area especially on the main road. There are some funny (if you let your mind run along those lines) businesses next to each other viz the infertility clinic is next to a macho man gym, the wholesale grain store is next to a medical shop.

More people in the area use Tatasky than other DTH services. The autowalas are lower life forms no matter what height you look at them. The buswalas are more suited for driving monster trucks, 2 wheeler drivers want to defy the laws of physics and be at multiple locations at the same time.

The guys in the gym across from us do a few curls and weight lifting and keep looking askance at our gym since it's newer and it's bigger. They do a lot of macho posturing and slap palms after every few sets aka locker room behavior mixed with bro-ness.

I get so caught up in watching them all that when the trainer comes and asks me to move to another machine I usually  ask..shall I go on for another few minutes? I can feel my endurance building up. When they ask me to move to another machine irrespective I face the sight that scares....me- sweaty, bedraggled, lardy and RED! Yup..the cycling machine in bang in front of a mirror.
So after thinking that I don't have any further stamina to pedal...seeing myself in the mirror is incentive enough to keep pedaling away and get off the machine. Those fifteen minutes can't come soon enough!

Here are some of the other instruments of torture-
This one made me feel like my arms were going to come off. They haven't yet but that doesn't mean it won't ever.

No comment.

Strangely enough, the one machine was totally comfortable with.

Another contraption that made me feel like the biceps muscles would snap and fall to the floor like confetti.

This one was hard to get on and off...but once I got on I just wanted to sleep it off...clearly the trainers won't let me do this one too often.

And that, in a big fat nutshell is my how my exercise regime's been going. I'm going to post more blogs here as soon as more feeling comes back into my fingers and arm muscles.

Watch this space for the series titles: Blood, Sweat and Copious Tears aka how I lost 100 gms.

01 January, 2012


That's the sound I tend to make when I'm stretching with arms flung out. And since it's before coffee am doing that mentally since my hands are busy :)

Was woken up with a phone call from the States. One of our family friends rang up and wished us and told me about his brand new granddaughter. Always nice to hear about babies being born and then the knee-jerk thought is, "beta...aage aage dekho hota hai kya!"

Am not malicious about babies being difficult or even tough to manage. It's a fact of life. Wouldn't you be cranky if you had a mobile over your bed and nothing but your toes and fingers to play with for the first few months of your life. Of course my son's been making up for that big time by reaching for everything (and I mean everything) that gets in his way, but I'll fix him yet. If he can be a brat then I'm the Brat-Neutralizer (fingers crossed and praying hard!!)

But let me talk about last night...oh glorious last night. The absolute last night of the year when I conked off way before midnight courtesy the rigors of having a 2 year old and having had wine after a long time. Thank goodness! Both these can dull your senses into oblivion I was Mayor of oblivion yesterday! I didn't hear the phone, the pings, feel the vibrations of emails, texts anything. I even missed out on the fireworks and just slept the night away. I honestly cannot think of a better way to end a year...sleeping peacefully. No dreams (that I can recollect) and no kid to take over my blanket or edge me off the bed. I slept in a nice cocoon of my sheets and when I woke up I wasn't even cross that it was still dark outside. Hey! It's a the first day of the new year...I'll be cranky tomorrow once Monday creeps in and I'm back to the routine.

I was talking to Red last night and it occurred to me that I've been spending all New Year's eves with him since the year we met. We have been to parties, met the requisite party drunks, bumped and spilled drinks in crowds and have also had cozy times. The cozy times are quite fun actually. While nothing compares to having a few good, like-minded friends around to share the laughs but I'm becoming a homebody.
It'll be a long time before I become a hermit but the last time I went out and danced the night away was well...a long time ago. Now it's more of cozy dos, entertaining friends at home.

But new beginnings to a new year or not, there are still things that don't change- laundry, the milk's to be boiled and the paper to be scanned before it's confiscated by two males- one who wants to read it, especially the sports page, the other who wants to tear it- no particular page.

To New Beginnings!