Good times!

Almost a year since I last wrote here and lots of things have happened since. The most important one being the latest addition to our family - your lil brother 'Vivaan.'

It was the first time that I had ever stayed away from you for two nights. Although your grandparents were there at home to take care of you, you have let me know in no uncertain terms that this is not a done thing. So your request is to have no more babies in the family because ''a baby means mummy stays in the hospital which Ashita does not like.'' Am happy to comply with that! :)

Initially you were pretty insecure, dont get me wrong, you loved Vivaan to bits, you only had a problem if anybody else loved him too. It took a good two months before you got comfortable with the idea that Vivaan was here to stay and a little more longer to watch either me or your dad playing with him.

However, you are an absolutely brilliant sister to have. Two weeks after he was born we had to go get his buggy, so while Vivaan slept in his car seat, we were having a look around in the store. I saw you had stationed yourself next to his car seat and thought you must be getting bored, so I suggested ''why don't you check out the toys section and choose a toy for yourself?'' To which I got a prompt reply, '' Thank you but I will wait till you finish choosing a buggy because I want to make sure someone is watching over Vivaan.''

Protective to the core! Doesn't mean its all nice and sweet though coz now you both butt your heads against each other and have a typical sis-bro relationship where both of you are crying and I am screaming at the two of you! :)

These will definitely be the best years of my life I think. Physically exhausting but definitely worth it for the smiles and hugs I get. I dread the day when you both will shy away from any PDA (Public Display of Affection) from me.

If I could just hold on to this thought and cherish all the small things that make up my life, I think I shall die a content lady. Amen!

Girl Pals

Dear Ashita,

It’s a bit sad when your friends are your husband’s friends and life revolves around entertaining them. I guess you do need to cultivate your own girlfriends else you tend to be in the shadow and not particularly feeling happy about it either.

So today is Friday and I asked Shaiwal what we going to do tonight. One of his friends is leaving for India tomorrow and I thought we should probably have him over for dinner. Turns out the boys have already got their plans in and they were going to meet up tonight – minus me. Don’t blame them for that coz who would want to hang out with a woman when they could have an all-boys session. But it did sort of hit me that I am an unwanted third wheel and that wasn’t a good feeling at all.

When I went to India last December, I was quite lucky to have had a chance to meet up with a couple of my school friends. Girls whom I shared my dreams with and one in particular a best friend whom I had through 11 years of age till 19 years (a golden period for me). We went different ways when we took different routes, she – matrimony and me – higher studies and subsequently working life. It wasn’t that we were not interested in keeping in touch; it was more that we were so busy trying to fit in with our new chosen lives.

So the three of us met up for a couple of hours for lunch after 16 years and from the word go, it was as comfortable as putting on a pair of old socks. We slipped back into using the slang that we did then, pulling each other’s legs with complete disrespect for one another and easily sharing confidences without worrying about censoring personal/confidential/private bits. It was only 2 -3 hours but it was the most rejuvenating thing I did in a long long time.

When you grow up, I don’t know if the current forwards will still be doing the rounds, the ones on cultivating your women friends and what a treasure they are. If it is then heed them, if not then refer to this bit of wisdom. Meanwhile me heading off now to put you to bed and then am gonna watch this rocking mallu movie that I have wanted to for ages.

Love you lots Kutta

Daddy I love you

The opposite of depression is not happiness but vitality. Heard that in one of the TED talks recently and I completely agree with it. There is something so exhausting about being sad that it feels as if your energy is draining away. 

Tomorrow it will be a year since I lost you daddy. I stand today looking at life feeling as scared as a kid who lost hold of her fathers hand while walking in a crowd. People around me tell me that as per Hindu beliefs when a year passes by the soul then goes and merges with the Param- athma. Attaining peace and what not. I envy their beliefs and their confidence in the truth of these beliefs. 

For a year now I have been reading as much as I can about life after death, about near death experiences, about what death means both scientifically and religiously. I realise that it is mere foolishness on my part to think written texts could provide an answer to the most enigmatic philosophically question known to mankind.

The not knowing is not killing me,rather it is the sheer frustration of not having you in my life and the absolute knowledge that there is nothing I can do to remedy it.

I hope that where ever you are happy and at peace and I pray that if there is a rebirth for you then you have a better daughter than I this time. Take care daddy. I love you.

V-Day

There is a huge part of me that aspires to be the thinking intellectual being with all the right answers and then there is another part of me that loves stuff like the F**k it philosophy (didn't make it up there truly is one! Google it), dancing in the rain, eating like there is no tomorrow and laughing for no rhyme or reason.

Now the aspiring part tends to be the bah humbug one which tells me that life has no meaning unless you get a mention in history, prods me on about spirituality, taunts me on my lack of ambition at workplace, tends to look down on stuff like partying and useless days like v-day.

The other part which was the prominent one during my growing years likes to, at the drop of a hat whip out cards and gifts that would put Santa to shame !!

I sort of look at the aspiring part as the adult in me and the other one as the child in me. Over the years I notice the child in me shrinking and the adult in me growing taller. Finally perhaps achieving the ever coveted maturity in thought and action. But then I normally get my oops moments like when I tore a check of 28K as I was supposed to hand it over for at the UK consulate for my visa submission OOPS! Or like the time I booked my dad for a flight to Delhi on the date he needed but wrong month OOPS! Or like the time I change my married name to marital name after getting the birth certificate done for my child ...gives the impression of child birth outside wedlock OOPS!

Well lots of stories there and not ones I relish recounting but the fact is these moments just emphasise to me that the maturity I think I have is probably an illusion or that maturity doesn't mean you stop making mistakes. Hmmm....haven't totally figured that one !

Anyways so the adult part looks at days like valentines days and registers hallmarks marketing strategies and is sarcastic and cynical to the thought of expressing love on just one day of a year and hello what does it mean? The child part thinks F**k it (you really should read the book on this philosophy) why not just gift my hubby and make him feel special after all any excuse to be happy is a good excuse !!!

Which is why I am now sitting and hitting the stores through the online world and trying to figure out what he needs leading to my next issue. Gifting used to be easier when you were younger coz -

A. You were overconfident and just "knew" that the gift you were giving was just the right thing and totally oblivious of the pained expression on the receiver's face

B. You typically never thought of spending too much anyways so things were more affordable

C. You didn't have to agonise too much over choices coz the person you were gifting was more likely your age group and like you didn't have too many fancy things anyways.

Things changed coz from overconfident I have now shifted to being a person with a higher emotional IQ ( read I now recognise the pained expression for what it is ). I don't gift a whole lot of people coz I realise it sometimes is misconstrued as me hitting on someone or me flaunting money ! ( I thought marriage meant you were at least cleared of suspicion of romantic feelings for anyone other than spouse! Another OOPS!)

Last but not least although my hubby is probably one of the least fussy people I know, he would like to be gifted something that is useful. I guess that's a minimal expectation to have. But after all the wallets, belts, bags, apparel and techy gizmos I have gifted I find I have exhausted my imagination. Not my love though, so the hunt is on and while I still do sort of look down on v day I love having the excuse to make him feel special. So dear child in me if I don't get a good gift this year u definitely will be wrangle you but otherwise good job!!

Ek Akela is shahar mein

एक अकेला इस शहर में, रात में और दोपहर में
आबोदाना ढूँढता है, आशियाना ढूँढता हैं

दिन खाली खाली बर्तन है, और रात हैं जैसे अंधा कुवां
इन सूनी अंधेरी आखों में, आँसू की जगह आता हैं धुंआ
जीने की वजह तो कोइ नहीं, मरने का बहाना ढूँढता है

इन उम्र से लंबी सडकों को, मंजिल पे पहुचते देखा नहीं
बस दौड़ती, फिरती रहती है, हम ने तो ठहरते देखा नहीं
इस अजनबी से शहर में, जाना पहचाना ढूँढता है

Gulzar's lyrics in this song from Gharonda, one of my personal favorites. This is one of the songs that your father and I sing to you while we put you to bed and you are nodding off.

If you have to understand the sterility of city life and hollowness of missing emotions then this song reaches out and pulls at your heart. Solo existence is often a freeing experience and one that every individual should go through. I think it helps discover yourself. Solo existence also means being bereft of your family.

Family is not just your father, mother or siblings. Family is also your relatives - the aunt who feeds you every time you meet her, the uncle who is stingy with money but not with the lectures he gives, the grandparent who is forever hugging you, the annoying braggart of cousins………

My life with family meant, each time I stepped out of home, it was with the knowledge that atleast 4 different people would note my goings and report back to my parents, with their very own touch of masala to it. There were family feuds to talk of, elopings that had happened and were always discussed in hushed voices, financial status comparisons and what not. To sum it off I lived a typical indian family life. As would any teenager feel, I used to be bored out of my mind and totally unable to comprehend why the hell my esteemed neigbour couldn’t stop bloody well poking her nose into my affairs!!

So escape in the form of higher studies in a bigger city came as a bliss. I remember the initial days of freedom and the sense of importance and acheivement I carried with me. Small things like stocking food for the week or paying rent for my paying guest accomodation were all victories for they were small steps into the adult world. Finding my way around Chennai (a part of the city itself was atleast 5 times bigger than Thrissur town) and learning a new language were all challenges I was more than happy to take up.

Education completed, I stayed on for employment. The days continued to be good. Slowly, and this phase creeps up to you without your knowledge, came a phase when my friends started getting transferred to different locations and I remained behind. New friends came but they werent as close as the ones that had gone far. Promises to 'be in touch constantly and never be but a thought away' were good to hear, fantastic on paper and seldom easy to implement. Time seemed to start moving slower and slower.

Go to work, get back home, spend time with friends and still the night seemed long…..Despite the mad hectic schedules of work there seemed to be time on my hands and a sense of something missing……... I was missing my family. A home to come back to as opposed to an empty flat.

The thing with life is that, you start off living life for your family, somewhere during your school days friends become the family you choose for yourself, this continues on to your college days……when you start stepping into your days as a working individual the equations start changing slightly……this is when you find friends tend to start their own family. Quite rightly, they are investing a lot of their emotions, time and space in their new family life and as a consequence has very little time for you now.

This is where I salute Gulzar for capturing the emotions each of us would have felt at some point or the other in the most appropriate manner. Days are like emtpy vessels and the night a blind well………wah!

The best of the lot, I have never witnessed these longer than age roads reaching their destinations…..!  Too true! There is so much to do in life, be it duties to fulfill or pleasures to experience and never will I be able to finish doing it all. The important part is to not loose sight of the journey itself in my haste to reach at a destination that I probably never will.

Onam 2013

Dear Ashita

There is a lot to be said about life abroad, the level of hygiene, the security, the work life balance, the weather, the discipline (especially in maintaining a queue), the ingrained politeness in each individual you come across and I guess many more things. For the most part, every Indian I think would add financial returns on the top of that list and probably a few more items at the bottom and middle of it. Come a festival though, suddenly the heart yearns to be at home. Notice that abroad is never mentioned as home. We may become US citizens, British passport holders and what not for the benefits they give us but I think the heart still wears the colours of your home country's flag.

Today is Onam, its a festival that every Malayalee celebrates. Its a time to be happy and celebrate. India has its roots in agriculture and villages and so sources of celebration normally comes either with the start of sowing seeds or at the time of harvesting your crop and of course anytime in between when we want to appease the gods for rain, more sun, etc to ensure our crops are healthy and safe from any dangers. To this simple explanation, we normally add the colour of religion and mythology for our amusement.

Being in India would mean your house would have a pookkalam or floral design made freshly every day for 10 days, it would mean new clothes and good food, it would mean your elders sharing stories of how onam was in their days, it would mean malayalee’s who are outside Kerala all trying to reach home in Kerala in time for the celebrations and cousins, uncles, aunts all getting together. Aside from this there would be celebrations in the city and the hum in the air of something special happening. All sound good? It would also mean rains, wet dresses, mud, thronging at the temple to see God, humidity, gastric issues from over eating and a lot of TV watching and movies. There are a lot of things that may not be good in this which I probably am not able to articulate here coz when sitting afar the mind recollects festivals at home, the heart tends to soften the hard/harsh elements in it.

I am quite conscious, that within the sterility of living abroad, you not miss out on the messy, fun, emotional Indian festival experience. So yesterday I took you to an onam get together here in Edinburgh at a rented Town Hall space where there was onam sadhya (feast), live ganamela (music), bharatnatyam (dance form) performance and thiruvathira kali (a dance form associated with onam). The organisers were friends and they did a marvellous job. With music the emotions and the experience came live, with the dance forms the eyes feasted and the food spoke to my soul.

You had your first experience with Matta rice ( commonly called Mota Chawal or Kerala rice), I am glad to say the malayalee in you rose to the occasion and you enjoyed the rice, aivyal, cheru pazham (small banana) and banana chips. Sleep kept beckoning to you coz it was nap time but you couldn’t bear to miss out on the entertainment. The vivid colours and the music seemed to keep you entranced. In my heart I wished with all my might that you grow up to enjoy this culture as much as I do, not be bound to it but to understand it and open your heart to it. I wish and pray that you take a liking for dance and music and learn it for I believe these are essential parts of a culture that bring you closer to it.

I hope as the years pass, you understand that with culture comes an understanding of human mind, emotions and reactions. We, humans, are all I believe essentially the same, some good some evil, but depending on how we have been brought up, the culture we are in, we tend to react differently to situations, we interpret situations differently and we display our emotions differently. I think a truly learned person is one who is able to acknowledge that, not just in words but also with the awareness of what different cultures are and mean. That’s a tall order though and I hope when you grow up you will be grateful for the advantage you have from having parents coming from 2 different cultures.

Happy Onam my darling, I look forward to see how you will embrace this festival and my thoughts here in the years to come. And I will also make a promise that while I cherish you and have dreams for you, I will not thrust them onto you.

Relationships

Relationships are never easy. At the best of times, you end up feeling happy and at a level where you understand the other person. At the worst of times, you feel angry, teary and betrayed. For me I think the key is being understood and being able to understand. Sounds easy? Well it isn't. Let me demonstrate -

When I was 16, TVS scooty was launched, a two wheeler that looked snazzy and was miles ahead of the earlier moped version. It was meant for young females, teenagers basically and was a revolution at the time. In easier terms, at that point in Thrissur, there was a sprinkling of women and girls who were brave enough to drive it and they were the 'HEP - in crowd' people of the time. I remember looking at these 'Hep-ers' with amazement for the concept of riding a two wheeler was scary. Accidents on a 2 wheeler looked more gruesome than the ones on a 4-wheeler.

My father, probably sensed my wariness and admiration for the scooty and offered me a challenge. If I were to learn how to drive it and get a license then he would buy me a scooty. So although I was petrified, the shiny scooty in the showroom seemed to beckon me, the shiny scooty that my friends had seemed to mock me and worst of all the scooty ads on the TV all seemed to be directed at me.

So I mustered up my courage, learnt how to drive it and got my license. 'TA _ DAHHHH!!!' Totally proud of my achievement I waited patiently for my dad to come from Dubai on his vacation and buy me a scooty. Sound simple?

Well it wasn't! The twist was that my dad got cold feet and he went back on his words; he was worried about me having an accident and as a loving father he couldn't bear the thought. Ironical that my dad ended up with the worry that I started off with.

As a parent, I can now appreciate what he meant to do then. All parents go through, this juggle between letting your child make his/her own mistakes, allowing them to grow as an individual and letting go of the protectiveness that wells inside you every time you see your child trip, fall or otherwise get into a bad situation. The balance is fine and I would be lying if I say that its an easy enough line to walk.

As a teenager, I fully hated my dad for going back on his words, it didn't make sense that the person whom you trust implicitly breaks your trust and the explanation didn't pass muster either.

Anyways the long and short was, the episode ended in tears, wails and sense of total let down. My tenacity to not let go meant I did get my scooty but one year after it was promised. My dad felt hurt for he felt I didn't understand his concern (as if I would!!! after all there was a scooty in question you know!)

So as I said relationships are never easy.

Men can be babies!

Dear Ashita, your father has now transitioned into a new role, with the role comes the requirement to work from home all days a week. As soon as I heard about it I thought this is bliss in disguise! I mean to do work from the comforts of your home, manage your work and home on your own turf, do your home chores while you are waiting for a report to come in….. you get the idea.

However, I have since revised my opinion. Every day that goes by Shaiwal seems to grow unkempt, restless and unfocussed. As if the zest in him is slowly but steadily seeping away. Initially all jokes on home working were taken in good humour but recently I find myself controlling my tongue coz I don’t think I would be able to stand the lash out I might get in retaliation.

Your father in sustained bad humour is not a usual occurrence and that worries me. So, I started observing him for a few weeks now and I came to two realisations, nothing ground breaking in fact just the opposite.

Not having a structured disciplined environment is not something everybody can thrive in. In fact the majority of us humans are so used to it, right from a young age – schools, religious places, theatres, offices, gyms, etc….not all of these are often disciplined but there is a structure to it, there are certain rules on the acceptable and expected behaviours and most of all the people you find here are mostly there for the same reason/purpose.

Simply put, Shaiwal misses not having an office to go to, not having a routine which comprises him getting ready for work, having meetings at work, taking breaks, talking to his colleagues, etc….. which leads me to my second realisation

2. We are all social beings and that means not just having the need to interact with your immediate near and dear ones but to go beyond and be able to talk to and observe people from different walks. Working from home takes away a huge opportunity to do just that without having to actively pursue it.

As I said before these are not ground breaking realisations but they did get me thinking in terms of a few lessons from MBA days and I went back to them in my mind. Maslow’s hierarchy of needs.

[Source: Wikipedia ]

Its all there but while I was being taught this I kept disparaging it as common sense and why does the syllabus include things that don’t need to be taught!’ With ignorance comes bliss and supreme confidence I guess!!

Anyways, so this week am trying to get a home work environment set up for your father and make sure he stops skipping meals and starts breathing properly again. Biggest learning of it all – ‘Men can be such babies’ ;)

P.s – need to make sure Shaiwal doesn’t read this one!!

Dear Ashita,

This is turning out to be quite a sad year for me because Yam dev (the lord of death) seems to have taken a liking to my family. I have lost yet another person, an old aunt. I was not very close to her and yet when she passed away, there was an undeniable sense of loss. A feeling that slowly an era is coming to an end and with that familiar faces disappearing.

Let me introduce you to this aunt of mine, she married my widowed uncle who had 2 children from his first marriage and came to be part of the Kunnathully family. A lady who spoke English with flair, commanded a certain respect by the way she carried herself and made doors open by her sheer confidence. A humble history professor in a parallel college and yet a woman with a strong network in society.

It’s always baffled me why she chose to marry a widower and someone who didn’t have half the sophistication that she seemed to carry. As a child I would just watch her speak coz she used to be able to carry on a conversation by herself with not so much of a peep from the other person. And she would do it quite entertainingly. She was the sort who would breeze her way through the queue and hold any grumblers at bay with her confidence, command over the English language and her audacity.

She passed away in a hospital with no family near her and a lone home nurse for care. She has a biological son, two step children and many grandchildren. Yet the days close to her death she lay as an orphan would, albeit a financially comfortable orphan.

I feel pained, my moral sense feels violated but more than all that I feel confused. Did she deserve to die alone? Was there a face to her which she had with her family that turned them against her? Was it the materialistic circumstances of this world?

I don’t know…….but I keep thinking back to those times when I dropped in at her home and she would be busily preparing a choice dish for one of her grandchildren or she would be writing a letter to her son ……many little things that are so invaluable and yet failed to ensure that she have dignity in death of being surrounded by loved ones.

I wonder what life is all about, Ashi……….I wish I had a hand to guide me through my confusion, to make me understand the cruelties I see……..a hand that I had …….a hand that was taken away……

Magic of words

Dear Ashita,

There are many things in life that impress me - ambition, people, sacrifices, success, failure, music, nature, history, historical monuments or sites, nations, etc and the list is long. However one thing that has continually kept me spell bound and always leaves a mark is WORDS - plain, simple words stringed together in a manner that they inspire emotions, feelings and thoughts in different people from different walks of life in different ways.

The ability to actually put thought and emotion into the right words and inspire the same feeling and more from the recipient is an art in itself. To my mind this ability comes from those who embrace emotions, go through different experiences in life and are sensitive observant individuals.

I inherited this love from my father. There have been many moments when I have heard him speak and wanted to be exactly like that - to be able to influence people and to amaze them with words. I have been lucky that your father shares the same appreciation for words and he has introduced me to the world of ‘shayari.’ Whenever I see him getting overwhelmed and emotional from ghazals and then immediately wanting to make sure that I understand that magic I feel content.

My dad used to sprinkle Sanskrit/Malayalam sayings/lines from poetry in his speech to express his feelings in a situation and I would continuously pull his leg about it that he would do it just to overwhelm the other person and get them to be more favourably disposed towards whatever he was suggesting at that time. J

Every time I could unfailingly see the words wielding its power.

Sharing with you a few choice ones which are my favorites -

Kapada lokathil aalmarthum aaya oru hridayam undaayathu enn parajayam



"My failure is in having a sincere heart in this world of hypocrisy."

A line written by the famous malayalam poet Changampuzha and is engraved on his tomb as well. I think at some stage or the other when you come across situations where despite the best of intentions things fall apart there are no more apt or truer words than these.

2.      A poem that daddy taught me which has always moved me

Illenikyu aavilya daivumme              I can never my dear god

nin meniyil poo mala chaarthuvaan       put a garland on thy body

malakal yere njan korthuvengillum       many a garland have I made

mohum safalum aayillya          and yet never have I accomplished my yearning

This is the story of a poor lady who ekes a living from making fresh flower garlands in the temple. For years she has served the temple goers with her garlands and with the meagre earnings she makes she tries to feed her family. For years she has wanted to be able to garland the lord herself. As youth gives way to middle age and then decrepit old age, she decides one day that come what may I will endure my poverty and my hunger and that of my loved ones for today but with these left over flowers which none of my customers wanted let me make a garland for the lord and let me adorn him with it. With trembling fingers she makes the garland and approaches the gods statue with all the eagerness of the years of yearning. ‘Clunck’ with the sound of a coin being tossed in her platter she sees her garland taken by another and the lord adorned with it. With tears in her eyes for having come so close and yet been so far she utters the lines above.

3.      A Book of Verses underneath the Bough, a Jug of Wine, a Loaf of Bread--and Thou

The famous words by Omar Khayyam and who cannot relate to these! These need no introduction no explanation and their impact as profound as from the time they were uttered.

4.      Ellavarum cholli njannu na kallum malayum chuttiyapol ennikyum thonni njannu na

‘Everyone says I am looking good, after putting on stones and jewellery I thought so too’

A bit of folk songs that the ladies working the farms used to sing to each other in my dad’s village. It has all the simplicity and innocence of our villages and none of the artifice of our cities

5.      Aham chintaye daivum anyatra chintaye

Towards the end this was his most favorite line, its in sanskrit and it is the equivalent of the english saying – Man Proposes God Disposes.

Phoenix

Dear Ashi, the darkest hour of my life to date has passed and as I strive for the mental strength to stop reeling from the impact of it, I feel lost and confused. I am essentially a very private person when it comes to sorrow for my first reaction is to curl up into a ball and shut out the world. So the only reason I am writing this is for you.

I walk around completely normal, engage in conversations, laughter and work and play as if nothing has happened and every other moment it hits me that my father is no more. As if in the musical chairs of life, my father got out in the last round, the music has started up again and I am going through the motions but I am searching for him and I can’t find him.

In life there are many relationships that you will form and each will have its own importance. The closeness or the joy you get from that relationship is up to yourself and the other person but when you lose that relationship there will be a void in life. For no one person can replace another. Be it friends, be it grandparents, be it siblings, be it whomever you come across.

Difficult for me to write about this phase in my life but I want you to know that you are a huge relief! Whenever I cry you get alarmed and come and hug me. A sense of wonderment fills me when I think how such a small child can reach out and console. You push me to be normal for two reasons, one I don’t want to worry you and have you in tears and two because that makes me realise that neither would my daddy have wanted me to be in tears.

It hurts and it hurts badly. Every time that I think of the time I have on this earth and without his hands to guide me through it. Every time that I start wondering how he is and what life is after death. Every time that I think daddy wasn’t ready to say good bye and neither were we and never would we have been ready. Every time that I realise that I won’t hear his voice again or have his hug. Every time that I think that you will never get to know my dad. Every time……every minute….every hour…..

I feel angry and there are times when I just want to lash out. Times when I feel as if my head is ready to burst because I can’t figure out emotionally why my father was taken away from me. Times when I think sanity will need to bow to my trauma and if there is a way to take this gnawing wound away then show it to me GOD!!!

Your father has been my shining light through it all with his patience and understanding. I don’t know if I could be like that if the roles were reversed but he helps so much by not asking by not prodding but by just silently holding my hand through this difficult time.

I just want to tell you my dear daughter that I am sorry but there will be a time when I will be gone, not because I wanted to but because I had to. I know you will go through these same emotions but I hope you will show better mental strength than I have and always realise whether I am with you or not, the times we spent together, the love and laughter we have shared, the life we have experienced together can never be taken away.

2013

Its 2013, a new year, new beginnings and a new dawn. So what are some of the things on the top of my mind as I start this year.

A very dear friend of mine whom I had sort of in the back of my mind lost hope for has gone ahead and surprised me by announcing his marriage. I truly was on the verge of giving up hope on that happening and every time I thought about it I was saddened. I know it’s a big step for him something awaited something dreaded and I wish him all the happiness in life in this new exciting chapter of his.

With that news coming in I have in my mind termed 2013 to be a year of happy surprises…probably miracles.

Another bit of happy news I am thrilled over is the expected arrival of a baby during the 1^st quarter of this year…NOT ME…..hehehhe…..but for another close friend of mine. Its been an absolutely wonderful time seeing her go through her pregnancy and mentally holding her hands and sharing my experience. If we had the concept of godmother’s more prevalent in India then she would be the godmother I would choose for Ashita.

So that’s news on actual incidents yet to happen this year, however for things that have not materialised ……yet! Shall I term that as my wish-list for 2013.

• I hope that my brother decides to settle down and gets married this year. My most fervent prayer right now however it should happen with his complete agreement and happiness.
• My dad is on his feet and able to maintain a healthy lifestyle in all senses of that word.
• Loose weight….i wonder if there will ever be a year in my life when I have not started the year with resolution to loose weight and become thin and lean. I guess this is one wish I may very well carry to my grave and thereafter return from the netherworld to haunt skinny humans for.
• I wish to be working all through the year and not have any gaps on my resume. This has nothing to do with being career oriented and all to do with bank balances.
• To learn something new…..this one is a bit tricky…..last year I was trying to learn something new and what I ended up doing is I learnt swimming and although I haven’t mastered it I can now officially swim. However that was before I started working so wondering what will be possible for this year. Need to give this one some thought...

I wonder what all my friends are doing and thinking. Anyways hope each and everyone has a great year ahead.

My Dad - Part II

Dear Ashi, continuing from where I left off last time, let me cut to the chase. My dad’s not well and hasn’t been for several months now. I won’t go into the medical reasons of his condition but I do want to share with you the anguish I feel right now.

Its difficult to watch the body being eaten away by disease and that is precisely what it does. From the booming voice and laughter that characterizes my dad I now have to see a frail person with no energy to speak. His cheeks have sunk in and his eyes keep fluttering in and out of consciousness. Doctors assure me that this is just a temporary phase and that things will improve. This phase though however temporary is quite painful, to watch yes but much more so to undergo. His arms have blood clots from poked it with so many needles so many times, he isn’t able to swallow as the skin in his mouth has peeled away leaving traces of blood……..

My dad is 69 and by today’s standards that’s not old yet. I know we can expect a full recovery although it will take time to reach that. Logically all the facts and the doctor’s statements tally but emotionally every minute I am with him I just feel like breaking down and crying.  I keep searching in my mind what could be the reasons for this situation but frankly speaking there is no one thing I can point my finger at. Where logic fails reasoning goes out of the window and faith starts to make its way in, for me faith is what gives me strength to face circumstances. So increasingly I turn to god.

I have been now with my dad for 3 weeks and I haven’t yet had a good talk with him because the times he is lucid is few and far between. I guess one thing that is mostly true for all daughters is that we are daddy’s pet and when the chips fall its our dad’s who normally give us a good heart to heart and let us know that things will be okay. It is also our dad’s who make us feel protected and secure the most. I am sure you will be no different my dear and blessed are you for having that cherished relationship.

Before I finish off I want to share one last thing. You are now 16 months old and yet to start speaking, you babble words now but you do understand most of what we speak. Every day you accompany me to the hospital. Every day you bring the light back into your grandfather’s eyes with your antics. Sometimes you give him a handshake, sometimes a smile, sometimes a flying kiss and sometimes just a touch of your cheek and with each interaction with you he brightens up which lifts my heart. Your presence motivates him and for that I am grateful. Thank you my darling.

My Dad

My dear daughter, you are much too young now to understand what I have to say and what I am going through. Unfortunately, I know that you will in the future be in the same place and perhaps then when you read this blog of mine it will make sense to you.

Every child’s hero is his/her dad and I am no exception. I am not blind to my dad’s faults and there are very many at that but I know objectively when I look at him there is respect and a sort of reverence that he commands. It comes from him being a self made man. A term quite exhaustively used in this day and age so let me qualify that. My dad, the eldest son of a young widow has seen life’s ups and downs from a young age. His father’s death quite literally plunged the family into debt and hard times. Difficult to meet ends nonetheless my granny had high hopes for her eldest, despite all hardships she made sure he finished his college education. These were times when value of education hadn’t quite caught up and people in mallu land were going to other states and countries seeking a livelihood after completing their matriculation (10^th standard). Well my granny made sure he completed his graduation and the day he got the degree in hand he was on the evening train to Mumbai to try and get a job. At the age of 21 he reached Mumbai with scant knowledge of Hindi and little or no grasp of verbal English. However through sheer desperation and perseverance he got a job in Bank of India. During the next 11 years he rose to the rank of Foreign exchange manager and he along the way accumulated degrees in law, human resources, finance, etc through evening college. Although he could have rested on his laurels and led a comfortable life thereon, he was still spurred to make money and reach more heights career-wise. With a wife and a 2 yr old son in tow, he decided to risk it all by quitting his job at the bank and catching the next flight to Dubai. People around him declared him mad to be running after what was akin to the Gold Rush. My granny being foremost! Well the rest is a story for another day.

Right now you are sitting on my knee and refusing to allow me to continue this blog. I don’t want you to cry my baby so I will stop for now and come back to this story when you are asleep.

Love you my daughter. Just remember that there are hard truths in life and I would rather you be aware of them than be sheltered from them.  So when there are times when you find me being strict or hard please know that it is with a heavy heart I am being so.

Nursery days

My dearest daughter I have joined office and I miss you every single moment of sitting at office. Well, let me start at the beginning.

       Every day we wake up by around 6 AM and i must say that invariably you wake your parents rather than the other way around. I am also releived and feel blessed that you are a happy person, something I freely admit that I am not. Me I wake up grumpy as a bear, YOU, you wake up singing like the robin.

       Anyways, after a mad dash to get breakfast ready, you fed, bather and clothed and then the same for me. I hand you over to your dad and say good bye to make my way to my office. Some days you wave me off with a smile and I go with just a faint pull on my heart. I keep leaning at the stairs to catch that last glimpse of your smiling face. Sometimes you give me a frown when I say bye and I dash down the stairs so that you dont see me crying and then end up wiping my tears all the way to the bus stop.

      All through my bus ride and then the 15 min walk to office I start to compose myself for the day ahead at work. I reach office and your dad normally gives me a call within 10 mins to say he's dropped you off at the nursery and you went smiling to your favourite staff there whose name is Noreen.

       Noreen by the way is the only Asian member of staff at your nursery and I wonder if you like her perhaps because she reminds you of me. Anyways, I feel so happy to hear you went smiling at the nursery and a part of me gets a bit jealous that someone else is enjoying your smiles and hugs during the day.

      As soon as I finish work I start running. My office is at the bottom of a very steeply inclined street. Walking up in a monstrous task by the end of which my legs are straining. Sure enough your dad calls and checks where I am and agrees to meet me half way so that I may have the pleasure of picking you up from your nursery. Your dad could actually be there before me since his office is closer but I do make him wait for me because I want to be the one who gets to whoop you around as you get picked from the nursery.

      The two of us together run to your nursery and while your dad sets up the pram, I tip toe into your nursery room and for a minute just stand there looking at you. Normally I find you sitting on someone's knee, playing a game or crawling up and down. You are also quite tired from all the play by the time I come to pick you. After a moment I call to you and as soon as you see me you put out your arms to be picked by me and give a small wail. I rush to comply and when I have you in my arms and have hugged you and showered you with my kisses, you quieten down and just gurgle happily at the rest of the kids in the nursery.

       The staff then normally gives me a daily information  sheet which tells me what you ate during the day, how much milk you drank, what activities you did during the day (bubbles, treasure basket, swing, went for a walk, songs, nursery rhymes, etc), how many times your nappy was changed and how many times did you nap and for how long.

        After that we do a quick good bye and I get you to your waiting dad and pram. You are happy to see dad but not to be seated in the pram. Its always a tussle trying to buckle you into your pram and I bribe you with baby organic biscuits to keep you happy and rush you home.

        At home, we drop everything and just sit and play with you. Gone are those days when tea was the first thing on the itinerary after work and at home. Just sitting with you , seeing you smile and tyring to talk your language.......bliss it is.

        You go to bed by 8 PM every night, invariably your dad sleeps off with you listening to my lullabies and I fall asleep looking at the two sleeping faces beside me. Good night my princess.

My Baby

There have been quite a few times in the recent months when I have thought about posting on my blog. Yet each time I never followed up the thought with action since I wasn’t sure what I wanted to say and how.

Today though after months of hibernation I finally realized that all I want to talk about is my daughter and whom I want to say it all to - is my daughter. Perhaps years later when my daughter reads this blog and its posts she may identify with me not as a mummy but as a woman and how I felt during different times. So, here goes -

Ashita, you are now a few days to go to be a 9 month old and you are truly the apple of my eye. Every time someone stops me on the street to gush over you m chest swells up with pride. Every time you smile sheepishly after I have scolded you, its as if someone reached in and squeezed my heart. J

These days you are trying to balance yourself on your legs and although I do adore your attempts, I must admit I am not too happy when you attempt it while bathing!! Your table manners have much to be desired, since you invariably end up spitting most of it once your tummy is full.

You know what, It’s been more than a year since I last went to work. A year when I have blissfully wallowed in pregnancy and then motherhood. So it was with mixed emotions that I received the news that I cracked a job interview and got an offer. I am to join work in a month’s time.

That is the reason I hug you tighter and hold you longer these days. That is also the reason why we are visiting nurseries these days, which has other kids your age and which I am evaluating. Although to be truthful every nursery we have been to so far you seem to be enjoying the experience. I have a feeling that when the time comes for you to be put into day care one of us will be wailing our heart out and its not going to be you.

Love you, my baby.

My Angel

I don’t suppose anyone is going to be the least interested in this blog update of mine. However, I wanted to jot this down before time entirely dims out this particular remembrance of mine.

Before I embarked on my 9 month journey and indeed many a time during the journey itself, I had enquired to quite a few members of my sex about the actual labor process. It quite irritated me then that I got vague responses, felt as if there was a conspiracy. What astounded me then was that how come all the women participated in this conspiracy, irrespective of age, caste, creed or financial position? What unseen power bound these women to secrecy?

Now that I myself have been through labor, I finally can say that tomorrow if anyone were to ask me about it, I would perhaps give the same vague answers that I was recipient of earlier.

Okay let me go through this step by step rather than jumping the gun, shall I? I had a c-section done and while I am definitely not going into the intricacies of it, I would like to say that before this one instance, a tetanus injection was the most painful interaction I had had with respect to hospitals and allopathic healing methods. Being wheeled into the labor room on the fateful day, brought to my mind all those movies where the bulb placed above the words ‘OPERATION THEATRE’ would ominously light up with dramatic background music. While on the operation table itself, I had the misfortune of looking up and finding the proverbial huge light placed right above. Hmm…..well it wasn’t the best of situations to be in and the nurses and docs all donned in green overalls with their face masks on weren’t helping to lighten the atmosphere other.

The two low points of the entire situation was one while I was being given anesthesia and two when the affects of anesthesia had worn off.  To have someone poke you with a needle somewhere along your spine is definitely not my cup of tea. Once the anesthesia had worn off and I started feeling the aftermath of c-section, I recall thinking to myself that I could happily murder all those women who chose not to warn me of what actually happens. It’s definitely not a joy ride then and I was wondering to myself why women voluntarily embark on it anyways!!!

However, I also, vividly recall the moment my bundle of joy appeared and my first view of her.  Every passing moment thereafter, I have looked into her sleeping face and felt indescribable tender vulnerable feelings.

The memory of labor itself is fading into the background, instead time now seems to have started from the moment she was born and not anytime before. My 9 months of pregnancy seems to be a thing from the distant past and my angel, my only reality of my present and future.

My apologies to all those women who are yet to embark on this journey and may at some point in future come to me to enquire about it. It is not my wish to hide what happens but rather the clichéd sentiment that once I saw my baby I forgot everything else that will make me give you vague answers.

Friends are the relatives you choose for yourself

As is the case of many a malayalee family, my initial growing years were in Dubai. Sometimes I think of that place as a district within the state of Kerala. For all that we mallu’s have friends and family there.

India was a place we visited for two months every year; a place where my father and mother yearned to be but due to economic constraints had chosen not to stay in. Every year during school vacations we would land in my father’s house for a month and my mother’s house for another month. In each of these places my brother and I would be paraded amongst relatives who would collect around and ooh and aah on how much we have grown since the last time. Once the oohs and aahs would quiet down, then the game on ‘do you remember me?’ would start.  My mother’s family was easier to satisfy as they stayed in the town and hence not too nearby so it wasn’t a daily parade and also they were less fertile, hence not too many cousins, aunts, uncles, etc. My dad’s family was another case altogether. His family stayed in the village so all of them had houses that were literally in each other’s pocket and each house had at least 7-8 children to boast of.

They were all nice people, however, every time I would start getting comfortable it would be time to return. So although they were my relatives I felt like a stranger amidst them; people whom I had to be on my best behavior with.

On the other hand in Dubai my father had this group of friends; all malayalee’s who would meet every Friday at one person’s house or the other. The gents would discuss their week at work, their dreams of the future and of course get tipsy. Their wife’s’ would all get together and gossip about how gold prices were going higher and how in the marriage market dowry demands were increasing. The children would be creating a racket and trying to break whatever valuables were available and within hand’s reach. There were about 10 families altogether and since we met every week we were quite familiar with each other. These were people who had seen me at my worst and I them.

Human nature rarely remains hidden after such extended exposure so I had the entire gamut, jealous aunts, comic uncles, generous ones, stingy ones, popular ones and the unpopular ones. I didn’t realize it then but as I grew up it felt more as if they were family than my actual relatives. When I got married, aside from my parents there were two uncle’s and their wife’s whose feet I touched for in my mind they were not lesser than a chacha/ cheriyachan or cheriyamma/ mausi.

One of the uncle’s in that group, a person whom I have deep regard for, passed away unexpectedly last week. He was 60 years and it was a heart attack. Hale and hearty one day and gone the next. I had met him a month back when he and his wife had come to give me some home made sweets and savories. A simple person who was always there in my childhood, someone whom I hadn’t had deep conversations with but nevertheless had always sought out for his soothing presence. I deeply mourn his death and pray for strength for his family.

Perhaps blood is thicker than water but i feel relations are deeper and richer for the emotional investment you have put into them. 

Vishu Aashumsagal.

I remember writing about vishu in UK last year and its already been a year since then…..i must say time has flown in between. Anyways this year vishu with my parents and brother has started off awesome. After all the house cleaning and cooking, my mum and I are finally sitting down. Before I hand myself over to the long list of new movies that are being screened on TV today I thought I would update my blog.

Wish each of you readers (not that there are very many :) ) a very happy vishu. I hope the coming year finds you in good cheer, prosperity and joy.

I did manage to get a triple XL size salwar khameez for myself so I have new clothes to wear too. I had seriously lost hope of finding anything new when I went shopping but mother fortune smiles on the persistent ones. :)

I am not sure what the rest of my mallu brothers and sisters are doing but I plan on LAZING…..not that I had strenuous  times these past few months. There is something about good food and new movies that means that you laze in front of the TV. :)

Have a great year ahead friends. 

Mummy-to-be Musings

One of the things I keep thinking about these days is that, I am not exactly brimming with maternal feelings. Wait, I don’t suppose I am making any sense, am I?

A little bit of background I guess would be good. Well, to begin with, my exposure to kids of all ages have been quite limited. Not too many younger cousins and even when they were really young I was satisfied doing baby talk and making baby faces from a distance. As long as the kid was in the arms of its mom or someone elder I was happy to try and make brief contact. I like kids who are a bit older and have a lot of questions to ask but the ones who are yet to come out of the alien-speak stage, well…..as the saying goes…..distance does indeed make the heart grow fonder.

Getting educated, getting a job, getting married and then having kids….the prescribed path for all Indian women and since I am no rebel I am sticking to that path myself. So, I have ticked off the first three on the list and am well on my way to tick off the next item.

The only thing is having lived 30 odd years of a selfish life where I have had primarily to take care of myself alone, I am now entering a stage where every one around me seems to think that just by virtue of being a mom I will of course be the best person to know exactly how to care for my baby. Hmmm…..that’s HUGE.

So, there is this tiny little life growing inside me, kicking me ever so often who will suddenly pop out one day and turn my life upside down. Through it all I am supposed to be some Midwife who from day 1 not only knows how to change diapers and bathe the baby but also by the way the tiny life breathes is able to identify if something is not quite right internally!! Half the time I read about women who enter into motherhood with peace and calm, before the baby comes out they hug their tummies to themselves and sing lullaby’s to the baby. Whereas I keep wondering about mundane stuff like, what can I eat next? If I manage to pop one more pillow behind me, can I lie on my back? Will my tummy keep stretching or will it burst at one point? And last but not least I tell my child – ‘buddy you keep hitting me now but I reckon there will be a day for payback, so watch it!!’ I don't suppose i would qualify for those mothercare ad's, would I? 

Hmmm….. so where are all those maternal feelings I am supposed to be bombarded with right now?