Feeding his Peeps!

mini artist

It's all in the mixing of the colors that true art flowers...or so mini-messyboots believes :-)

oh boy...

Being the daughter of perfectionists is not a cakewalk. Especially when you realize that they managed to infect you good and proper!!

You can't manage to put in a load of laundry without your thoughts straying to those shirts of the hubby's that you put in without scrubbing the damn cuffs and collars with the special cuffs and collars liquid! You tolerate that inner turmoil telling yourself that hubby wouldn't know the ring around his collar if it came up and tapped him on the shoulder so why should you bother anyhow? Go on and get a mani-pedi while the opportunity's been given to spare some time. But the voice of your sainted mater resonates LOUDLY in your head about the brush and detergent just sitting there, waiting for you to clean his unnecessarily expensive shirts!!
And so you do!

Then you notice that the sink's counter's got water rings from the hand soap dispenser and some other bottles kept there. You walk on by hoping that years of passive listening won't catch up with you and start a tandav inside your nogging. No such luck. What do you do? You find coasters that you aren't using and put them under the above mentioned bottles and stick your tongue out at them for good measure for messing with your alone time and making you think too much!!

You move on and find that your footsteps are moving towards the closet where you keep the extra crockeries and cutlery. It's another mammoth battle as you try to go towards the t.v. and the wine that beckons in the chilled glass (yes, the wine's room temp and the glass's chillled. So sue me!!) but your steps meander towards the cabinet and you open it to notice that the silver's become oxidized. Your mother's voice again looms up in your head and to fob it off you immediately get that empty plastic container that's been gathering dust in your kitchen and immediately dump the silverware in there and heave a sigh of relief because now it's all in one place and the rest of it's been protected from the evil atmosphere! BUT you will again be haunted by EL Madre in due time to clean it with the damn silver cleaning fluid :(

Finally, you've done most things that would sit well with the givers of your life and decide to chill for a bit and turn on the lappie to lament about your follies and foibles and pour a generous bit of vino blanca into the glass when both mater and pater both start up simultaneously in the attic that serves as your head and start telling you that they raised you better than this- drinking wine in the middle of the day, alone, for no rhyme or reason and this had better be the only glass or else young-ish lady!!

You turn up the volume of Lady Gaga on the speakers a bit more and top the glass off and say bye now..cya! and turn your attention towards this newest bit of idiosyncrasy which surely proves your OCD beyond a doubt!!

The new lexicon...

Times change and with them things assume new meaning or undergo quite a bit of metamorphosis.
Take for example Moi. Earlier I'd just have been one of the many women who are raising a child. But today, am so much more. I am a label. A new breed of people if you will. I am...wait for it...a S.A.H.M!! Ta da!!
A Stay At Home Mom for the doofuses out there who aren't upto date on the new lingo.

And while on the topic of the new lingo let's take a stroll through the garden of phrases and words that the SAHMs espouse or have thrust upon them.
These are random and not in any particular order of importance.

• Baby-sat: very simple one indeed! It doesn't indicate the past tense of someone taking care of your baby. It means just what it reads like. Baby. Sat. The thing you were so happy about at when around 5-6 months of age your baby first sat. But it's the last thing they want to do now and just act like their feet have springs attached on the bottom.

• Friends with benefits: again..simple. You are friends with some who benefits by association of playing with your baby and being hugged and kissed by the darling munchkin. And YOU benefit by palming off the precious bundle onto someone else while you deliberate how strong you should make your coffee to get through the rest of the day!

• Toilet training: a tough one. To get your child to do and also what it implies. For you it means conveying to the child, "handle your own doodoo in the long run. Mommy's cleaned enough bums to merit shivers at the sight of a wet wipe" :(

• Nanny Cam: ostensibly for spying on the nanny to prevent any harm from coming to the child and making sure the nanny isn't some kind of a Satan worshipper while you're away. But actually it's the pleasure of knowing that while you DO pay for it, someone also pays dearly for the joys of spending days on end with your dear little poochums.

• Mother's helper: can be anything from a bib, a spoon, but usually ends up taking the form of a television and hypnotizes your offspring so you can detox and count to 10 in your mind and possibly implode rather than explode.

• The first word: a misnomer if there ever was one. It starts out slowly but rapidly spirals into so many words that you never end up having the last one. 

• The last word: uttered by your child when he/she finally sleeps off for the day. The last word is followed by blessed peace and a realization that there is indeed too much noise in the world around you.

• Clean: a word on household cleaner bottles and a word you used to know but haven't been able to employ in a while and probably won't be till your child goes outside the house for long periods of time.

• Spanking: something that hurts you more than it hurts the spanked one and you usually end up apologizing for the booboos that you caused. At the end of the day, its your fault.

• Colds: hell on earth as far as toddlers are concerned. The house resembles a Mardi Gras parade with the amount of tissue paper confetti that gets strewn around. And you keep fervently wishing for the dreaded mucus to go and infest elsewhere but not in that particular nose. It's also known as Damnation without Relief- For the parents.

• Threats: what you make a few times every day/ hour/ minutes (take your pick) and what your child will counter by picking up the phone and telling on you to parents or parents-in-laws and make you look like Cruella De Vil!

• Sleep: a thing of the past. Nuff said!

Of advice and applicability...

A slight variation on the chorus of the song by T.A.T.U- 
"All the things they said (2x)
Running through my head (3x)
This is not enough..."


Ain't that the bleepin' truth!!


Get an education they said- mandated actually. I don't know when was the last time I used fractions- mixed or otherwise. The main help of being "educated" is that I can read books and express myself via written words; electronic and otherwise.


Go see the world they said- and took me to certain parts. But Monaco, Paris at 12 years is a con job. You can do BUPKISS! And not much more.Later on when you travel in your 20s, it's a much better experience although you end up doing half the number of places as compared to your first trip.


Have some coffee they said- and you did. And got hooked to the extent that while it no longer acts as a stimulant, you still can't do without it. You turn into this from this unless you have caffeine pumped into you at regular intervals.


Study a subject like Psychology they said- after I brought it up in the first place. What happened? I ended up understanding people even lesser than before. Unless they had disorders which were beautifully explained in the DSM or ICD...everyday people were quite a trial from time to time. I imagine I am too.


Get a job they said- and so you applied. It changed very quickly from a novelty and came out with it's hidden fangs and claws. It paid for the booboos it gave you but it still...


Get married they said. Oh boy..it started out as only fun and then routine set in. Lots of things came to the rescue but nothing quite binds like marriage.It nurtures, savors, aggravates, empowers and what you have left with at the end of the day is a realization that you will never have the bed ALL to yourself again.


Have a child they said- and you did. And then you wondered from time to time...is that demonic creature screaming with contorted features really me? Is that person making goofy faces and cleaning up Gods-knows-what from God-knows-where still me? Is that imp in human clothes with red cheeks running towards me with actual joy?


Sit back and relax they said at the end- and so you did. With a cup of coffee, the blog post taking shape steadily and making you look around and think- Yes..this IS my life. Those ARE my people. And I do LOVE them, quirks and all. Not because they reciprocate but because they made me to become the multifaceted person I am with my chipped halo that I've been trying to hold onto since I turned 10 and the horns which never seem to be hidden too well.


All in all...not a bad situation to be in but only if you have some good music and munchies for the rest of the voyage.

Geographical Mongrel?!

That's what I thought to myself I was. My father and Red were talking to the carpenter in Hindi ( a language that changes it's shape depending on who's speaking it, but I guess that holds true for most lingos) and they asked him where he was from because his Hindi was chaste; in a manner of speaking.
The talk progressed to him being able to pinpoint and tell my father he definitely was *not* from Hyderabad. Actually that doesn't take brains to decipher. Anyone with a ear not blocked with wax and noise pollution will be able to discern the Northeastern lilt in my father's speech. He's saved from sounding like a hardcore Bong speaking Hindi only because of his extensive tenure outside his home state.

But getting back to me- born in Calcutta, and brought up nomadically in UP, Gujarat, Rajasthan and now settled in Andhra Pradesh. Couldn't have gone further from my roots had  I tried as a conscious effort.
 Going back to Calcutta for summer hols and Dusshera doesn't entire erode your obvious non-Bong strain in the speech.
So when people ask me where I'm from I pause for a bit and say am settled in Hyderabad but have lived all over India. Saying I'm from West Bengal originally brings forth too many questions about the state which am woefully ignorant of. And it inevitably elicits the question of my spoken Hindi which is as non-Mamta Banerjee like can be. So if an encapsulation of my precedents have to be delved into tis best I jump into it at the onset, non?

But people of my nomadic ilk also seem to seek each other out. Apart from the common experiences in life, it's quite a comfort to "come home" to an individual who is also mongrelish and has enough and more of anecdotes of their own.

And now with a hybrid child in the family one can only guess how much of his Bongness, Teluguness and overall Hyderabadiness will manifest as time goes by. He will be, the ultimate mongrel!

Looking the other way...

brings us to the question- Why would you want to look the other way to begin with?
Is the sight in front of you unappealing, an eyesore, difficult to chew and digest or simply because seeing it would further reinforce that things aren't as much in your control as you would like to think?

I suspect the latter. Because usually I find (on intro and retrospection) that's how things are pour moi. And it's extremely annoying and not entirely liberating to be honest with yourself. All honesty does it make things unarguably clear about the prevailing circumstances, the likelihood of things being in the future or how they've actually gone down in the past. Honesty yanks off your glasses- rose tinted and otherwise and forces you to look at things and their underbelly.

And while a good, hard look at things is usually educative in itself- it isn't a lesson that you might have wanted to learn in the first place.
Ergo, selective vision or looking the other way.

You know there's something going down that you aren't entirely right with in your mind but to get involved and set it right the way you see it may involve stepping into a quagmire or opening up a can of gigantic worms! 

Now WHO is this day and age wants to deal with the creepy, crawlies of human behavior unless the pay offs are totally worth it? Not many of us. Because human behavior is often tidal in it's nature. The tsunamis take their time getting generated but the tides and ebbs keep occurring and unless you're quite sure of getting swept under or away, most of us are ok with getting wet every now and then.
Keeps life interesting even. Adds a headache or two in the process but hey- omelettes and eggs huh?

Here's to looking away, hoping that playing semi-ostrich leads to peace of mind and not pieces and that while your head is in the sand someone doesn't come and kick the living daylights out of you!


Salut!

I don't understand..

quite a few things but reading the paper gives rise to more things that fall under that particular ambit of non-comprehension.

For example- 

• Why is it so bad to let the Tibetans living in Nepal to celebrate the Dalai Lama's birthday? Is Nepal so utterly under the yoke of the Chinese that it feels that such an occasion merits a ban?
• How a life long coach thinks he can get away with saying that he didn't have an inkling of the "contaminated" food supplements he gave to his athletes? Dude, if they started winning more after the supplements alone, maybe it should've occured to you to check if they were merely vitamins alone? Which nutritional supplement is so kickass that it'll enhance so many athletes' prowess? Are you that green?
• The Telengana Issue- this merits more rambling so no more bullets for now. Just prose.

I've been a gypsy all my life. Indian and all that sure, but linguistically am not entirely of my native state. I have links to Calcutta or West Bengal overall because of the people there who have a connection to me either by friendship or family. But no such sense of belonging occurs to me merely because I was born and half the people there speak a language that I do.

I happen to speak two other Indian languages with far more proficiency than Bangla and can also think in them. That by itself should speak volumes right? Being able to contemplate in a language? 

But neither do I align myself with those geographical areas of India where those languages are spoken, simply because I don't feel like I belong there.

I've finally put down roots in Hyderabad courtesy a myriad of reasons, but had things worked out differently I'd be writing this blog sitting in either Bangalore or Bombay today. 

Whether it's salacious reporting about youngsters killing themselves for the sake of a "Telangana" state of not, I'd really want to know for once, what a damn state is supposed to mean to someone. Does one's identity begin and end with the geographical and linguistic boundaries. There are people in villages who probably haven't seen the inside of a major city in a while, indulging in self-immolation for the sake of the T-state. Either they value themselves very high or they place a massive premium on their action; thinking it'll spur the powers that be to conform to the demands.

And is it really the demands of the masses? Any picture in the paper, any morcha taken out seems to be a collection of ne'er do wells who have been hired or influenced to join in to swell the numbers of the agitators. If anyone were to ask them about why they're agitating and how life will be different for them if a state is carved out of A.P they'll go into goldfish mode and just open and shut their traps aimlessly.

I do believe that while people want the better things in life, they also want to live in peace. Parents don't want their kids not going to school day after day, daily wage earners don't want public transport disrupted so they can't go and earn their livelihood and even politicos don't want to go on fake fasts on and off because guess what? Someone just might have a camera focused on them for good and then they might just have to pull of a proper stoppage of food and water and not merely do a bowel-cleansing 24 hour "fasting" skit.

In states which are geographically spread over different kinds of topography, it may very well make sense of have regional headquarters or separate centers to take care of specific needs of the people, but if every time a demand for a state has to be conceded then the map's going to end up looking like scrambled eggs. And if the formation of a separate state led to ease in governing, promise of a better way of life or at least cessation of the demands of the locals then it might make sense. But when it all boils down to a power play then effectively no one wins, we all sit on the bleachers and watch the drama and impressionable young people go on sacrificing themselves for naught.

If it makes financial sense at the end of the day, the state'll be formed. As long as life can continue being in flux despite increasing agitations, it won't. So I guess there'll be more cookouts on busy junctions, more resignation drama and more students resorting to various means to hurt themselves, and the rabble rousers will just keep screaming themselves hoarse. There's just no place for sentiments in the whole equation at the end of day.

Jai (pick a word, they're all up for grabs aren't they?)!!

?

For the first time since I've been blogging I haven't been able to come up with a title. I was surprised because when blogs are born in the noggin they go through a fairly quick gestation period and the developmental activity is pretty rapid. Of course the process of the birthing is often protracted and not always normal.

Anyhow I've been thinking for a while on the offspring's cognitive processes. I know he processes things well. It's just that he has yet to master language so he can make us understand what he comprehends and how he does so. But watching him is a treat. His reasoning and deduction makes me think to myself what kind of a person might he turn out to be later on.

Because the jury is still out on the whole Nature Vs. Nurture debate I can't quite confidently state that he will definitely exhibit xyz traits. But I do know that both hold water; to an extent.
Case in point- The Mater is a pretty good artist, in terms of sizing something up and reproducing a likeness. She's fairly skilled at the arts and crafts and her brain works pretty damn fast in picking up new techniques in the same field. But I'm all thumbs. Maybe because the Pater is all thumbs? The most creative I've seen him get with a pen or a pencil is turning one of my spelling mistakes on a greeting card into a series of extremely odd-looking dwarfish flowers. But he did do it.

I guess I'm wondering most about creativity. When I used to counsel MBA students a few years back and put them through a psychometric/psychosocial test and later interpret the results for them, I'd find that most of them associated creativity merely with the performing arts. If you danced, painted, sang- you were creative. Else not.
And I remember asking them how they were at problem solving, thinking on their feet, generating solutions, how they ideated, how they perceived various kinds of situations and suddenly they understood how their high scores on creativity were justified.

I've scored a moderate rating on creativity. I think I know why. Creativity is something which needs expression. Merely being able to think creative won't cut it. If I'm able to conceptualize something, anything...it needs to get portrayed somewhere. And creativity and originality aren't inclusive 100% of the time. That's another mistake we make.
While Kaavya Viswanathan situation isn't one we all may find ourselves in, we do need inspiration from somewhere. Where would my blogs come from if I hadn't been able to develop an ability to write? Where would this ability and love for writing come unless I'd read stuff that spoke to me. And how would a style be born in the first place unless I read something good and wanted to be able to write something along those lines.


I don't make a case for plagiarism, but creativity can often be, taking an existing idea and then putting your own spin on it. Hell if that weren't possible, Facebook wouldn't be either and we wouldn't be Superpokin people or playing Zombies and Vampires with people geographically dispersed at any given point of time or day. 

But as ever I digress. Will the offspring be good at sports (his father is- I prefer to exercise my fingers by flipping a page), at music (I did manage to learn and forget how to play the sitar and the piano), be an egghead ( javagod father- says it all) or will he just branch out into a whole different direction and do something unexpected.

With schools offering ways of shaping up a child from a playschool level I really have to wonder how much of nurture is going to go head to head with nature and who will ultimately triumph.

I would dearly love it if he made it to Caltech or places of it's ilk. And would also love it if he travelled the world and took pictures and wrote travelogues that I could read.
I don't want him to emulate Gene Simmons though because why break a guitar when you can strum it? :)

Time will tell...and maybe in time he'll read my blogs and we'll see if his mother turned out to be a soothsayer or nayer and if she found an answer to the on going battle of Nature Vs. Nurture.

Happiness that only a cookie can bring...

Ma da laadla...

YES! am indeed keeping in tune with Bollywood and using song titles for my blogs. Only I doubt I'll go the E.K way and make it (K(Ma) with the K silent :p

And while on the topic of the aforementioned...let me state what territories have been explored recently (kindly understand to mean random acts of violence perpetuated against household objects that cannot fight back)-

1. The antennae of the land-line broken and kind of droopy and loose. I doubt the manufacturers intended the phone to be dragged along by the antennae in the first place. Just goes to show how important a role children play in the quality testing of objects.
2. The screen, sound, camera of my Nokia have been so affectionately attacked that the saliva in the phone has become a reservoir. The sound of the people over the phone seems to be as if originating underwater. A gross exaggeration I admit but you get the picture. The camera's been hazy and grainy after the last contact with the floor.
3. The frame of my glasses are chipped and loose. It really has become a one size fits all :( And I thought that applied to tube socks alone.

It's not that my kid is destructive mind you. Not at all! The cardinal sin that he suffers from is curiosity. What is kept so high up? Let's go explore. Why does the microwave light up and have a rotating object inside...let's touch it and see? What happens if I press that button...and the list goes on.

And there's his wish to hear how things sound ergo throwing them becomes the next logical act.

The way I see it, he'll discover something BIG one day...an explosion at the very least will not surprise his father and I one iota!

As for how to assuage his undying thirst for knowledge...well, as long as there are things for him to list, climb on and taste in this house the skirmishes between him and I are guaranteed. I guess his scurrying around is still preferable to him turning into a zombie tater tot in front of the telly. But commercials have never been more of a lifesaver for me. Especially those of fair maidens getting fairer.

Here's to all the manufacturers of fairness creams. You are the chief reason my son halts in his tracks atleast a few times in the day. May you keep preying on the mindsets of the fairness-obsessed people and keeping hiring geisha-faced girls to help out mothers like myself!

Here endeth the rant. For now :-)

Hai Rabba...

The problem with teaching your kid new words is that they may very well end up using them against you! And usually to their advantage.

Case in point- my child says 'bye' at the drop of a pin to everyone. I mean everyone. He also verry conveniently says bye to me everytime he wants me to stop talking or leave him in peace to wreck his mischief :)

Another example- The word moon. Simple, nice round word with long vowels. I first showed him the Supermoon and he became moonstruck from the word go. Actually moon :p anyhow now he sees the moon everywhere and makes me see it and acknowledge it too! Am sure it's his Telugu genes kicking in...the telugu grooms show their new brides 'din mein taarey' so our man took it a notch up- din mein satellite :D

The list runs long and is convoluted. But his speech aint! Tis simple and limited. And it's shaping my speech up the same way. 
So when you meet me next, if you find me a bit moony...don't call the loony bin on me...just remember this note and say 'bye'...I'll probably get the hint :)

Leaves...

Avian Traffic Controller

The Crooked Room

There Goes the Birdie...

For the birds...

Aunty Mat Kaho Naa :(

It's a given that if you have some much-loathed extra baggage (read fat or lard depending on how coarse you want to be) and are toting around a kid you MUST be an AUNTY!!

Well, this aunty attracted the attention of another kid who clearly doesn't have a diet chart anywhere on the horizon. This child wanted to tell me that MLM had taken her badminton racquet. The object was returned post-haste much to MLM's distress.

The chubby chicklet then felt bad for telling on MLM and started following us around to join in playing with us. She and MLM played on the slide, on the ground and she unbent enough to tell me that she knew that there were different types of birds (crows clearly did not qualify in the line-up) and she wanted to spell it out for me.

She then wanted to exchange girlish confidences and started talking about the magic rope she shared with her daddy :) I hope it was a metaphor for a good time else am quite puzzled by what that's supposed to actually stand for...

But a genial kid she was and am sure I'll have to attend more spelling bees when I see her in the park again :)

The Indulgences of The Maternal Uncle's House..

erm...yeah..I know..it's quite a mouthful of a blog title and out of the blue it seems to not really make much sense. There should be some context, shouldn't there?

Well, there is indeed! Taken in Bangla, the title makes mucho sense. A Mama (or the maternal uncle) is the person whose house the grandparents are usually supposed to be found in. Grandparents mean heap loads of love, abundance of everything good and basically a total and nearly complete immunity from rules, regulations and of course, parental glares and edicts *smiles*

This is the first time that MLM and I are staying with my folks purely for fun. Earlier there were family functions et al and not enough time was found for my son to reveal the full gamut of his monkeyness to his grandparents- or to me  come to think of it.

Apart from becoming more expressive he started by getting the lay of the land as it were. He did a thorough recce a few minutes after we arrived and then proceeded to go and grab and mark as his own, most things which spoke to him. That I was usually scurrying after him didn't deter him much. If he needed me off his case, he simply called to his henchmen (aka my parents) and I was told to clear the way for the king of the land.

And kid is kingg in this case! The kitchen, bathrooms, the balcony, the birds in the sky, the planes he spies flying overhead, the occasional street dog, the maid servant, the cars, the driver (let me know when I should stop with my recital...) all have his patronage and he favors them with his smiles, the thumps of his hands and his incessant babble. Not speaking complete or coherent sentences doesn't stop him much (read AT ALL!!).

And into this mix, add my extended family, my parents classmates of old and of course Red (whom he saw after 17 loooong days), his new red tricycle, the neverending bubbles, the mini cars and gasp gasp, pant-puff..and the offspring is truly in his element and blossoming more every day.

For the record, this child hasn't faced this kind of humidity before and neither is he being kept in an airconditioned bubble. But he's happy and his happiness cools him a lot more effectively than the ac can. Although he doesn't hesitate to drag me by my hand/clothes towards the bedroom and say imperatively, "Mamma AAYCHEE!!". Nor does he mind declaring happily, "THANNA (thanda)", when he enters an airconditioned room and is soothed :)

And where does the maternal uncle come in finally in the whole tale? Well, since the maternal uncle is symbolic of summer fun and bonding with far-off relatives I guess the symbolism has been understood good and proper!
I used to look forward to summers in Calcutta (yes I did, and no I wasn't suffering from humidity or sun-strokes) because people made a fuss over me. My grandmother (the galactic ameba bless her nearsighted, chubby soul) would be in a festive mood and literally scold me if I didn't eat everything that she'd made for me expressly; there would be the childrens' classic books awaiting me as gifts from my grandfather and the time would go by very well without a phone, a t.v. and definitely without AC.

As I got older, the kind of time I spent with them changed too. Although my grandfather's stories of what all my mom and her sibs did as kids didn't change at all. And he enjoyed telling them each time SO much, you couldn't sit with a passive face even though you could preempt him word for word, pause for pause. One had to smile and be pleased with the antics his kids were upto.

My grandmother didn't go out of the house much after her eyesight deteriorated but she was still very fond of everything new. But what she really liked was knowing I was in touch with my Bong roots. So after lunch, she, my mom and I would end up on her huge four-poster bed and sit with the Geetobitan (the complete one- songs, lyrics of Tagore) and yes, yours truly would sing. My grandmother would join in and after a while that would lull her to sleep. Yup, kind of like singing to a baby :)

Cut to circa 2011, my son sings his gymboree songs (his own rendition of course, the child is TOO talented by half!!), wants Chilaaa (Sheila ki Jawani) and does a tandav  when the mood takes him. And this fatigues my mother to no end. And yet, the very next moment when he's up, she encourages him again by reminding him of all the fun he had. And that, in essence is the 'mama'r baadir aabdaar'.

Am sure there'll be more aabdaar (indulgences) as the years go by. And Calcutta will get known to MLM as the land of the grandparents, the place of fun, glass figurines at every bend and most importantly- as the land where Mamma has no sway at all :)

That's all folks!

There's something about one's hometown...

am guessing that of course. I merely have a birth place but no properly defined hometown as such. My life was nomadic right from the start and Calcutta had remained a place where I visited my grandparents or went for the yearly family Durga Puja.

Now with the grandparents gone, the puja coming at a time when it's tough for Red to take leave, the only draw towards this city are my parents. But part of me still thinks of them back in Hyderabad :(

So I needed make a fresh connect with the city I was born in, visited practically every year that I've been alive but strangely (and sadly) know so little of. And what better way than take the summer vacation route? Of course that's stretching things quite a bit. With a kid not attending any school..it's vacation 365 days a year (for him..never for me alas) and whatnot!
But I digress.

MLM and I arrived in Calcutta on Saturday afternoon sans Red. After the usual kacharbachar on flight and while collecting the luggage, we made it to my parents' place. Let me add here that my turning up was a total and complete surprise to my mother who literally jumped for joy seeing us.

And we've been here since...with MLM feeding the birds each morning with my father, and getting acclimatized and introduced to his Bong roots via mishti doi in the khullad and fish curry as of this afternoon.

And he's been eating it all up. The food, the attention, the works!

Now it just remains to take him out and show him the city. And in the process get to know it myself.

These are my things to do-

• take him to the zoo and the aquarium right opposite.
• get him to taste a good singari aka samosa to the uninitiated.
• a meal at Tangra.
• pastries at Flurys
• take him to meet with a few great-grandmommies viz my nani's sisters.

But am sure, since the best laid plans do often go awry, so might mine at some juncture...but I'll get a Calcutta darshan out of it for sure!

Bongily Yours....

badmonkey and his posse...a few are missing tho...

Smothered!!!

Kiss the chef...however mini...

Pearly whites..

I brush everyday!!!

A Glimpse of My Life...

A typical day, a usual disarray and me...then and now..

Future Bookworm

The smile that means worse is on the way..

Treasure Trove

Both my treasures in one place...!

Deciphering the Cust Care Speak

How many of you have ever called up anyone in customer care and within seconds gritted the enamel of your teeth and cursed the person upto their 7th generation or wished means of non-procreation on them?


Oh my! That's a whole lot of you now isn't it? But annoying as they may be and as much as we may want to hunt them down in cold blood and feed their innards to hungry hyenas, these people have a lingo, which when understood, you stop becoming feral and just accept the gospel truth. You are the customer and they really don't care! 
See? That's how you can use the words customer care in one sentence :P


This is a ready reckoner for dealing with, demystifying and ultimately keeping your blood pressure under control when dealing with the DUH!-sters aka customer care reps.The statements include the tripe doled out by the customer care personnel either face to face or on the phone. And the corresponding lines are what they actually may end up meaning. And frequently do :(

• We'll call you back Sir/Ma'am- NEVER be lulled into a sense of false security by this trite utterance. They will not. Nope. Nada. This sentence is to be re-garbled and understood to mean You call back Sir/Ma'am.
• We'll call back in 5 minutes- The mythical 5 minutes will start when I feel like it so it could be 5 minutes from the 4th Tuesday of November in 2012. 
• I'll connect you with our technical people- my knowledge of retrieving data is limited to turning the comp on and off. Am actually leaning into the next cubicle and checking with the guy who can actually locate IE. Am putting you on hold while I get his coffee and a samosa so he'll do my work for me .
• Let me ask my manager- I was checking out the new girl in the fragrance department and forgot all the instructions given during orientation. 
• We don't have it in stock now- we never did and we never will but am obligated by my manager to keep you happy and smile at you so I have to let you think we're the storehouse of the world's cornucopia!
• What a sweet child you have- damn! get the monkey off my shelves! I'll have to go and organize it all again. You'd better buy enough to make me a damn good commission for all the stuff your kid's scattering about.
• It'll be done soon Ma'am- soon is a good word. Am not sure when these chaps will get around to fixing that. Let me keep her on hold and play muzak till she gets into a coma.
• We are here to serve you- till I get a job that pays me enough that I can call someone else up and yell at them instead!
• You want your points redeemed?- perfect! as if my day wasn't fascinating enough without having to hunt down your silly points so you can save 50 bucks on a 5000 ka purchase!
• Thank you calling, shopping with us yada yada and have a good day- now that you've ruined my day I hope you get a flat tire, your shopping bag splits and you lose your credit cards you horrible people!!!

Disclaimer- The views expressed are sincere and non-retractable till the day I come across a person who doesn't turn into a drooling, half-wit, with the attention span of a microbe and who can actually manage to not look relieved when you depart the shop (sound relieved while hanging up) after transacting your business.

Or maybe it's just me who attracts such Igors? Naah! Am too lovable by half!

The wallops the weekend packs...

After a long time I just took off to spend time with a few friends. After a looong time.
The time off was utilized well and packed with laughs and catching up as was expected but there was waaay more excitement waiting for me back home.

Red was babysitting and in the process of sitting with the baby (who does everything but sit in one place) he noticed that one of the darts was missing a small tablet-like magnet from it's bottom. And he looked high..and he looked low. And came to the conclusion which any parent of a toddler will- his son had swallowed the magnet. What helped this New Age Sherlock Holmes come to this deduction was the fact that the aforementioned toddler had been sucking on the dart with gusto a while back.

So Toddler-Parent#1 called up Toddler-Parent#2 and spoke of the near-calamity. T-P#2 called up the pediatrician and her Doctor-For-All-Seasons&Illnesses friend and found that they both recommended getting a xray done of the greedy gobbler's chest and tummy to make sure that the magnet was indeed in the tummy and not taking a nap in the throat passage somewhere. And off they went.

Incidentally the child in question was his usual self..he didn't seem to be "stuck" to anything in particular or have a more magnetic personality than usual...sorry...fatigue forces out my non-funny bone.
Anyway, after battling through the hordes of parents waiting with their sniffling, crying, whining,tantrumy,quiet-as-a-mouse chilren our turn finally came just so the doc could write down the kind of xray needed for MLM (Mommy's Lil Monster). Talk about being rigid and cautious. Malpractice anyone?

The taking of the xray however, was another doozy. Red and I had to get MLM in a position reminiscent of a person being stretched out on the rack with Red holding the hands and me the feet. The position took 15 mins and more poses than what a fashion photographer probably puts his anorexic models through, whereas the actual xray was over by the time I blinked. Talk about an anticlimax.
So MLM cheerfully waved the xray tech bye even with tears streaming down his face and hiccuping into the bargain.

Long story short- no magnetic. No harm. No foul. No emetic needed. No laxative either. Nothing!!!

But at the end of the day I had a brainstorm (which, if drunk enough or stressed enough I WILL try) that I could feed MLM enough of those tiny magnets to create a strong enough magnetic pull from within and then stick him up on the refrigerator door and go about my business! He can wave at the whole world from his elevated position and work on his magnetism all in one go :)

It's a racket I tell ya!

Apart from the obvious people who benefit when you have a child (believe you me, sometimes you really have to tell yourself that it's a good thing) I've begun to feel that quite a few people gain substantially.

For example, and I know that I'm not alone here, I'm sure that locksmiths get many phone calls from parents with children who are in various stages of gaining their mobility. I know I'll be calling one to see if he can put locks on the following-

1. the fridge door.
2. the refridgerator door (and you thought getting a big fridge with the freezer in the bottom was a good thing. Hah! Fat lot you know!!)
3. any cabinet made of glass.
4. any cabinet made of wood.
5. any thing that opens. And closes again.
6. the toilet seat (yup, that one falls hard on those little hands)
7. the laptop.
8. the mobile fone. (the landlines already have that ugly little box available that you can lock with that microscopic key).
9. and pretty much just about everything!

Red usually wonders why I no longer take the trouble to dress up. You know, something around the neck, earrings, make-up...the whole shebang! 

Well, today when I thought I ought to go green for the celebration of the harvest festival in A.P (Ugadi), I decided to wear my green silk along with some matching bangles.

Should've stuck to jeans!!

Everytime I tried to tuck in my sari, my son got up and starting walking around with the pallu and seeing how far it would go. So eventually he had to be put back in his cot with a big bottle of milk for distraction. Yup. That didn't work either. By the time I opened the closet to get the bangle box out, the little monkey was already waiting up on the bed, milk bottle in tow and ready to dive into the box of gol-gol stuff that unfortunately for me, was damn glittery and just his type!

After wrestling away my other bangles for him I realised he was sitting on 2 of the bangles that I was supposed to wear today. I feared for the bangles since his posterior was nicely covered with Ye Old Pampers. But he did get up? Nope! He thought it was another game I was playing with him and started scooting around the bed and taking the bangles along with him, right under his bum. 

Talk about giving me the bum rush!

So bangles were put on, the rare chain was around the neck when he noticed it had dangly things on it. And there he was trying to shimmy up my legs so he could verify that the danglers did dangle well.

But let's move onto the party now shall we?

The party had coolers. The coolers have air vents. The air vents are large. A child's hands are small. The air vents call to the child to put the hands inside them. The mommies prevent this. The mommies get kicked and grumpy looks are cast all around :)

And then we came back home. And it began all over again :)

Honestly speaking, I wouldn't call him a brat. I just don't know what to call him though. He's curiouser than Curious George. He's more adventurous than Columbus and only the oddest things scare the bejesus out of him.But it's only a matter of time that those particular things stop being his kryptonite also.

I find myself gazing fondly at him and am sure many people see me and think, aww, doting mother. But the ones who know that gleam in my eyes know that while I'm seeing my kid, am seeing him trussed up in a straitjacket and hopelessly immobile. Just for a bit. And I take a nice long break before the sound of glass tinkling comes from the kitchen or somewhere else and he goes, " Mamma...oh-oh!"

Delayed reactions...

I've named this post thus because most of the things mentioned here have caused a reaction in me quite a while back but it's only now that the blog has decided to emerge. It was floating about disembodied in the recesses of my head till a few mins back.

So let's go....

Alright people, what's the deal with yet another book on M.K Gandhi? The man lived and died a long time ago and has undoubtedly left his mark globally. Despite the fact that I am not a fan, I don't take away from his efforts either. So why is his sexuality coming into question now? What's the value add? Will he be demystified any further if the world does discover that he may or may not have been a bisexual? Seriously, what gives?

Of all the things to research into or even wonder about- people have to scratch their intellect about *that*?

And speaking of asinine (well we didn't actually speak of it earlier but it was implied throughout), the chief minister of Andhra Pradesh handing out goody bags which would have set the state exchequer back by a not-negligible amount has come to light. And MLAs are all but jumping for joy like 6 year olds on a sugar kick! And we still wonder why there are roads being left unrepaired, street lights being nonexistent for years on end and whatnot! But sure, by all means let the fat cats get fatter. And how will securing someone's vote with an iPad help in gaining stability? The moment something else is out there, something better that is, the opposition need only get a newer, better goody bag and there's a government about to be toppled over. But on a positive note, the Samsung Tablet and the iPad have got better propaganda this way than they had earlier courtesy their respective companies' campaigns or KJo distributing the former by the hamperloads :)

I didn't know another important thing ( I don't know QUITE a bit I'll admit), Indane prohibits their customers from booking a second cylinder even if one's lying about empty at home, unless 21 days have passed since the 1st one was delivered. This helps in making sure that each one gets enough. Of course if you really want your cooking gas to turn up on time, as is your due as a paying customer, just offer a bit more money to the delivery guy or the distributors and just cut in ahead of the line. Simple and easy as pie!

So I go and tell the distributor that I need to talk to someone in charge since I can't go for more than 1 month on one cylinder...he gives me the # of their head office which, surprise surprise is disconnected. But hey! he did his job by promptly passing me onto someone else. One could also complain online but...wait for it! That particular page's under construction! 

Is this what they call as a vicious cycle?

I'll end up with cyclic phases of mania this way am sure :)

Caveat Emptor..

There really should be warning labels on kids. After the new experiences in potty training there are other concerns which crop up especially during the terrible twos-wala phase. This phase I'm told lasts till they turn 5 or parents end up in a loony bin, whichever occurs earlier :p

Last night, after he got a second wind and started laughing and playing catch-me-if-you-can at 9:30 I got to thinking...I'm responsible for all this energy. I encourage the rambunctiousness. While Red's taught him how to "THOO" with just about anything...I've been encouraging him to walk and run and jump and now it's been done in abundance.
I feed him chyawanprash and God only what else to give him energy and vitality. And when that energy comes right back at me I'm left floundering :)

At this age, children are natural imitators. They may not be able to express a lot of things terribly coherently but they comprehend a helluva lot. Yesterday the offspring hit me right in the eye with his bottle. It HURT. And I got quiet for a bit. Quelled the urge to spank his butt rosy red and was waiting for the eye to stop watering. The little man got all serious and made sure I was smothered with kisses till he got the "All clear" signal from me before running off to do more of the 'good stuff'!

It's actually quite silly to expect him or any other child to understand differentiations between what is good or bad. Because except for putting his hand in the power socket or touching sharp objects, there isn't much that he can do that I can genuinely object to. I ought not to take him to Gymboree then. He learns to climb, jump, go through tunnels and whatnot!
What happens at home is a reproduction of those activities but in the setting he is familiar with. He runs out the door to climb up or down the stairs (major eeks!), he crawls under the chairs of the dining table, he climbs on the sofas just so he can jump down and the rest of it simply because he likes doing it.
And at this age they really do not understand why their fun time needs to be rationed. I can't have him jump for an hour when it's fun for me to see him and applaud his efforts and then tell him to be a good boy and stop doing it. Confusion sets in. Why is he a good boy for doing something new and then a good boy again for not doing it?

The inevitable will happen. He'll continue jumping up and down, climbing, falling, running, scratching on mud, picking up dirt, taking my utensils, turning on taps and pretty much whatever he wants...because doing something is always more fun and exciting rather than *not*.
Who wants to sit quietly and listen to boring mom's take on the tickly tiger when you can pounce around, growl and roll on the ground the way the tigers on Animal Planet do?

He sleeps less. Only because there's so much stimulation around him and he's become used to it. But he's not a kid who is hyper unnecessarily. You supply the stimulation and obviously something will result from it. So all the bath squeezies that I gave him to make bath time fun have resulted in elaborate games being made up inside that little head and now he refuses to get out of the tub. Add to it the heat and bada bing!

So, to make a long story short. there's usually a reason for most of his behavior. Just need to remember that the next time I slip in a puddle of water in the living room which seems to anything but water :D

The tottering tot and the people in his life

Written on 10th October, 2010

The munchkin completed 14 months yesterday and despite all the comparisons which are inevitable with other tots of his age, am very happy that he's turning into a completely different person from his father and I and is into doing his own thing.

He hasn't learnt fear yet, of that am ambivalent because it stops him from being cautious or listening to warnings about a few things. But at the same time am glad that my fallacies or silly fears aren't getting transferred to him. We make it a point to chase the house lizards instead of my using shrieking and praying for the Divine Hand to strike them dead where they crawl my walls.
He picks up bugs and is a bit picky about his tastes so no unnecessary non-veg stuff has been added in his diet. YET.

As for the people in his life- let's start with my maid. She dotes on him and has been seeing him since he was 26 days old. Every milestone of his she notes and goes and brags about to the other people she works for. They play peekaboo and she's thoroughly tickled when he does his clap-clap and bye-bye. Apparently there aren't too many babies who do it as adorably as mine does :P

His grandparents aka the Mater and Pater. They miss him awfully and keep cooing to him over the speakphone a few times in the day. Am required to furnish details of his escapades and my father (Mr.Impatience himself wrt Moi) keeps telling me to be patient and not scold him. How the tide's turned...
My mother sings to him over the phone and keeps laughing at his antics and keeps telling me to be careful with him and not let him out of my sight much. Yup...I'll do that when the house needs remodelling and I can't afford a proper decorator. The mini me will tear stuff down; the walls too if need be.

His playmates in the building- are few. Most kids are taken care of by ad hoc nannies the parents supervise from the building or via mobiles. The kids try to climb into his pram and seem quite attracted to something in him which I can't quite place. He's unashamedly aloof with another boy in the building, reserving his smiles and claps for the fairer sex. Amongst whom, the fairer the better is the name of the game :)

His father- has become his partner in crime of late. Teaching him to throw stuff, further and further each time is what these two love to do. And Red is also his sanctuary from the mad mommy and her barks and occasional bites.

His mommy aka moi- well..we test the boundaries of our relationship everyday. He knows me better than I know him. He pushes my buttons like few others do and is very quick to manipulate. Kisses are given rapidly to avoid slaps on the bum and deafness is feigned when I'm not compliant enough or other more pliable people are around :)
He eats my food, demands my soft drinks and ice cream and my cellulite is his trampoline.

What more does a child need?

A dog maybe?

If I wrote a children's' book

I would write a book for the people who are contemplating on the contemplation of kids. It would be succinct and would be about the following:

• spending time with parents with kids of differing ages before actually beginning the process of parenting oneself [ the real time fun, angst, swearing, laughing and desire to use sedatives by the parents on the children are quite the eye-opener!]
• changing one nappy, potty preferably.
• feeding a child who has gained mobility. Something that is semi-solid and has a color that can and will stain a light-colored clothing; again preferably yours.
• bathing a child who is mobile and can lift himself/herself out of the tub. Whether the said child loves the water or hates it the result is the same- you will be drenched. Count on it.
• putting a child to sleep. Just once. One realizes that there's a gamut of things to explore starting from tussling the hair, patting the back, singing, cooing, walking, bouncing and yes, ultimately threatening too before the much-desired semi-conscious state is attained by the child.
• taking the child out to the park or any area where the following things excite the tot who has mobility- dogs, cats, birds, cars, PEOPLE...anything actually. Mine once watched a half-crushed slug for 20 minutes and clapped sporadically. So really, it can be ANYTHING.
• taking the kid to the supermarket for the first time. In an aisle which is particularly colorful and bright. And then what happens is no mystery...everything ends up in your cart.
• refusing the child something he or she really wants but you most certainly do not! What follows is the most intricate turns, bends, foot stomps and yelling- and that's just by you. What the child will do is anyone's guess...especially yours.
• watching a child sleep. The peace exuded by the child is so pervasive that you will just drop down and snooze on the spot. Amongst god knows what all. Yes. You will.
• hearing a child laugh. Everyday there's a new pitch, a new gurgle and a new tinkling sound that comes through. It's quite an art form actually. Especially one where it's not practised knowingly so au naturelle will bring out the best.

After all this has been indulged along with a few bites, nibbles, drools, spit-ups, hurling sessions most likely one will take the decision that I did- ride it out.

Everyday's beautiful and exhaustingly so. But then again, who knows how they view us...but that's another post. I have to rush...my lil cherub is yelling his head off and trying to hit new keys to show his impatience with his absent mother.

Salut!

To Grin&Bear it..

The dictionary of idioms defines "to grin and bear it" as thus-to endure something unpleasant in good humor.
But if we remember the original humors, this idiom could just as well end up being a veneer for a choleric individual aiming for phlegmatic.
Truth be told, I seldom have been able to do just that. It usually becomes a case of grinning and baring it. The fangs that it. While the mind takes its own course of exactly who'll be the last one laughing (or in this case, grinning) by the time doomsday arrives.

I suppose good humor does deflect or even diminish a lot of the stresses in life. But it doesn't diminish the stressor(s). Those things/people/situations that turn people into malcontents.

Am I a malcontent? I suppose so. In bits. Sporadically. But I do grin and bear a lot of things that come my way. Either because the eventual payoff's worth it or enduring stress for the "greater good" will also tell of good things to come. Or ultimately because I've got special someones to go and spew bile to.

What really gets my goat is that things/people/situations that cause annoyance on an irritatingly regular basis usually are exempted from learning of the impact their behavior or even mere existence causes another. Ergo grinning and bearing may not always be the best policy all the time.

So till the time a perfect approach to managing stress for malcontents is discovered I'll just take a twist of lime, some tonic and GIN& bear it. So either Tanqueray it or go the Beefeater way...it'll be a lot easier to handle from the other end of the hic hic spectrum.