Planting Memories

I enjoy looking at the few potted plants in my balcony. I water them every morning, look for new buds, smile at the newly blossomed blood red hibiscus flowers, notice the new baby leaves. I observe how the twin creepers of Aparajita are gradually growing and strengthening their hold around the railing. Its bright blue flowers. I sometimes even grind fruit peels and mix it up with the soil.

One morning, while looking at the plants I realized I have subconsciously chosen only those plants which I am familiar with since childhood. A red hibiscus (jaba), a basil (tulsi), Aloe Vera, Curry leaves (kari patta, while is called mitha limbda in Gujarati, although I haven't quite figured out what is mitha (sweet) about it). All the plants I now have were there in our house while I was growing up among a few others which need a little more love and care to blossom. I have chosen ones that are easy to maintain and have medicinal or culinary uses too.

My Guru (Grandmother) had a terrace full of potted plants. Watering and caring for them each day on her own.  She never really liked having a mali (gardener) around even when she was much too old to take care of all the plants on her own. I used to occasionally watch her digging up the soil, tossing in used tea leaves and crushed egg shells into the soil. As she went about her gardening, she spoke about which plants needed more or less water, extra fertilization etc. She expressed surprise about how much water the plant was "drinking" in the summer days, like they were real humans. She even told me about the prohibition on planting too much poppy during the British rule since poppy seeds can be used to make a potent drug (afeem).

She liked to have plants that either had medicinal properties or bore flowers (Roses, Dahliya, Poppy). She took great pride when her roses grew big or had a unique color. We even have a picture of her with her roses in full bloom! If she ever got a cut or a burn from working in the kitchen, she preferred to use Aloe Vera pulp over any of the medicine tubes at home. The hibiscus leaf was a great alternative to shampoo and tulsi leaves were often crushed and used as medicine for me for the common cough and cold that I was very commonly affected with during my childhood years.

At that time I did not know what she was imparting and that I was learning. While she was sowing seeds, nurturing saplings, watering plants maybe even she did not realize that she was also sowing seeds of knowledge, planting stories and memories in a child's mind. It has been over two years that she passed away but I guess she lives on in many such small ways, in the way we celebrate our festivals, the food we eat and even the plants we choose to grow and how we use them.

Sometimes, I look at my children's angelic sleeping faces at the end of a day when they have truly tested my patience ( and sometimes even convert me into a screaming mom-ster), I wonder if I am planting some seeds of knowledge and good memories in their heads. Am I nurturing these saplings the right way? Hopefully!

I guess I would find the answers many years from now...till then, we have two small elephant shaped kiddy watering cans to water my plants with.

Would Life Be Different Without Kids?

While driving home last night with my two kids in the backseat constantly chattering and asking questions I snapped.

“Just keep quiet please and go to sleep.” I regretted it as soon as the words escaped from my mouth. Poor kid, he was just innocently telling me that he saw a car or something. Silence descended in the car, but a conversation began inside my head.

Why did you do that?

I am tired, my ears are hurting after listening to the constant chatter, tantrums and fights of two young kids all day long.

Why can’t you be a little more patient?

Work, home, kids, limited support, travelling husband… sometimes it gets too much I guess. It’s not like I don’t try, every morning I wake up hoping to be the best mom I can be, but towards the end of the day I just run out of strength.

Hmm. Tough times, eh?

Yes, indeed. Life is like that, there are times you have so much to do. These are the years of my life I have to dedicate more to my kids than to myself. Sometimes I feel my kids have accelerated my ageing process. 

Would life have been different without kids?

I am sure, yes. Maybe I would have been doing a different job, getting a bigger salary, spent more on clothes and shoes, lived in a smaller house, travelled the world a little more. Life would have been different, but not necessarily better. Life would not have been so colourful and rich. I would never have driven an orange car and worn purple rimmed spectacles had I not had them in my life. They have altered the person that I am. Definitely more patient, forgiving and capable.

Capable? How so?

I would have never known how much I am capable of without them being around. For nothing else would I have multi-tasked and learnt so much. I would not have tried to squeeze the best out of each minute of every day had it . I would probably not have tried my hand at so many other things (including exercising, baking, writing and building a bond with other fellow moms) had it not been for them. They pull me out of my comfort zone, bring out something different in me, make me question what I really want in life and help me choose what I really should go after. They are my strength and weakness all at the same time.

Without them, I would never have learnt what it is to love someone much more than myself.

“Every true love and friendship is a story of unexpected transformation. If we are the same person before and after we loved, that means we haven’t loved enough.”  - Elif Shafak

I Want it All!

I recently read Chetan Bhagat’s latest book, ‘One Indian Girl’. I am not a fan of his work, I haven’t read all his books but I picked this up on a whim, expecting an easy breezy, entertaining read and it surely was. I has an interesting premise, it talks about a young girl, Radhika Mehta, who is earning big moolah at Goldman but at the same time is insecure about herself and is facing the career vs. marriage dilemma.

A lot of women would be able to associate with the predicament that Radhika faces, the internal ramblings of the mind and the heart, the love for your job, the aspiration to grow, do well in your job but also the societal pressure to ‘settle down’, be a good wife and a mother.

A lot of us grow up with good education, dreams and hopes, all set to make a difference in the world, to be the ‘beta’ of the house, to be ‘no less than a man’, but then somewhere along the line most are expected to make all that secondary, take off those stilettos to become someone’s wife or to do the ‘best job in the world’, of being a mother. It is indeed brilliant of Bhagat to have leveraged this touchy topic to his advantage.

While I won’t deny enjoying reading it, there were parts of it that did make me cringe. I did feel that he wrote it with the aim of turning this into a blockbuster movie like some of his other books. I could already envision some scenes from the movie while reading. It has the perfect ingredients for a masala Bollywood flick, one strong female character, three guys, one creative-intellectual, one sexy sugar daddy and one boring husband material type. With a sprinkling of love making scenes, a backdrop of a big, fat, Indian wedding, complete with a filmy dramatic ending it is meant to become a movie.

It definitely had me thinking of which actress would play the lead. Kangana? No. Kareena? No. Taapsee Punnu? Yes, maybe. But then I saw the cover and got the answer….Oh yes, who other than Deepika Padukone. She would be perfect. Do see the book cover, it definitely looks like a silhouette of Deepika.

Well, coming back to the book, Radhika is seen questioning the need to choose between home and career, she’s seen wanting it all, a high flying, demanding job at Goldman Sachs and two messy kids. A much younger me would have agreed with her or felt her pain, but now, I was almost laughing. “Well Radhika, you don’t know what it really is like to have two messy kids. Careful, what you wish for young lady. Do you know how stressful that is?” I wanted to tell her.

Well, some women do manage to do it all, with some (or a lot) of support, some take a break, some become full-time moms. Each one to their own. We all make our choices, walk our paths, find peace and harmony somewhere in between sometimes, but inevitably we all feel stressed, we all feel the pressure, we feel the guilt, whatever the choice maybe. If you are trying to balance a job and kids, I am sure you feel the stress. Even if you don’t, you still feel the pinch of not following your dreams, of ‘wasting your qualification’. You know why?

“I am two women: one wants to have all the joy, passion and adventure that life can give me. The other wants to be a slave to routine, to family life, to the things that can be planned and achieved.” ― Paulo Coelho

I Wished to Fall Sick

Wish I could fall sick, at least then I would get a break from the busy daily routine. The constant running to keep up with the clock…meals, school pick-up and drops, kids classes, my own work and so on.

Yes, it sounds silly but sometimes the idea of falling sick seems inviting, so I could stay in bed all day, be cared for and get pampered for a change instead of taking care of everything and everyone in the house. But, alas, we can’t choose the timing of falling sick, it just chooses us.

My silly little wish finally came true one night, accompanied with a sore throat, cough, runny nose and fever. However, the timing could not have been worse with hubby travelling and children still settling into their new classes. I was left with no option but to operate on “business as usual”, popping in more pills and gulping in way more tea than I would have done otherwise.

I found the otherwise sweet questions and calls for “Mumma” annoying but had to respond with a “Yes, Baby!” in as sweet a tone as possible, while I otherwise sounded like a croaking frog.

For a Mom, falling sick is a luxury. Hopefully next time I fall sick, it would be on a weekend, or at least when hubby is around to get the kids ready for school, pick and drop them, feed them, clothe them and patiently deal with all their demands and questions.

For now, I thank Crocin for helping me stay on my feet and helping me get through the week.

Stay Well, Stay Healthy fellow Moms…and if by any chance you are fancying the idea of falling sick, just take a break. You deserve it.

I Told You So!

A Short Story

Anuradha stands there in front of the large mirror in a blue blouse and petticoat. On the dressing table, Amma’s gold Kasu mala is waiting to be worn. The gold coins with Goddess Lakshmi embossed on them gleam. Anuradha has neatly combed her hair and pinned it on the sides to keep it from falling on her face. She has managed to tame her unruly curls by massaging a few drops of coconut oil mixed with water. Amma’s tips are always effective.

Leela looks up at the clock hanging on the butter-coloured wall. There is still time for them to arrive but her beloved Anu must be ready before time. She switches the fan off before tucking the saree into Anuradha’s petticoat. The Kanjivaram silk Leela has carefully selected for her daughter is blue. Blue like the early evening sky, cloudless and clear. She deftly pleats this silken piece of firmament and carefully pins the pallu on Anu’s shoulder. The golden peacocks on the saree’s border are dancing gleefully. No words are exchanged between mother and daughter. Leela doesn’t need words to understand her daughter.

The loud ringing of the black phone breaks her chain of thoughts and she rushes to the door. But, Anu’s father has already picked up the phone. Anu hears her father speak with a smile, in a voice reserved for outsiders. He ends the call with a polite seri, seri and keeps the heavy receiver back in place with a clink. The television in the drawing room gets switched on.

Standing in front of the mirror, Anu applies some kajal and lightly dabs the pink lipstick, careful not to overdo it. Leela admires her daughter’s reflection in the mirror and smiles. Anu notices her mother watching and puts the lipstick back on the table. Leela steps closer, pulls out a packet of bindis from the drawer. She selects a small one and sticks it on Anu’s forehead.

Anu knows that Mahesh belongs to an educated family, grew up in Delhi just like her, has a steady job with a bank, earns well. Even Amma and Appa want this to work out since Chitti recommended this alliance very strongly. Even the horoscopes matched well, but there is a question that is nagging her.

“Amma, how will I know if he’s the one for me?” Anu’s voice is unusually soft and eyes shifty.

“Don’t worry, you will know when you meet him.” Anu looks up at her mother, with a questioning look. Leela can sense her daughter’s thoughts, “Don’t worry. Believe me, you will know.” Anu smiles nervously in response.

“Wear the necklace. It’s my good luck charm.” Leela leaves the room after patting her daughter on the shoulder.

Leela fries the vadas on low flame, turning them over to achieve the uniform golden color. They should stay hot till the Rajagopalan family arrives. The coconut chutney is ready. On the other side, the mustard seeds, dry red chilli and curry leaves sputter in oil. Prabhu always says, nothing tastes better than freshly cooked sambhar. Thus, she had made Sambhar every single day, for the past twenty five years of her married life. Now, she can’t get it wrong, even in her sleep.

As she puts in a fresh batch of vadas for frying, her mind begins to wander, to the question her daughter asked. How does one really know if they are meant to be together for life? Did she know when she married Prabhu? Even in her thoughts she cannot muster the courage to acknowledge her response. Maybe this was her destiny, or was her life just an outcome of the decisions other people took for her? Mostly, her father and then her husband.

Leela transgresses back to the time when she lived in a village near Trissur. To a time when she knew a certain Mahesh. Her Mahesh? Can she call him that? The curly haired, lanky, tall fellow who could climb the coconut tree in under a minute. Leela had dreams. Dreams of being a Carnatic singer, having grown up listening to M.S. Subbulakshmi. Leela was famous in her village for her singing. Her family had encouraged her to practice and her high point was when she performed at the Sri Guruvayoorappa temple. The audience of over five hundred people had listened to her with rapt attention. A certain gentleman had approached her father and asked him to get her to Chennai for playback singing, but her father had refused immediately. Leela got to know about it much later.

It was her singing that had attracted Mahesh to her in the first place. After speaking to him a few times on the way back from college, her juvenile mind had imagined spending a lifetime with him. Youth is such that it makes one believe in the infinity of possibility. Every dream had seemed achievable to Leela, until one evening.

Over the evening kaapi and murukku, Leela’s father declared that she was to marry Prabhu, the son of his friend from Delhi who had visited them a few months ago. Her objection had no meaning in front of all the virtues her father counted on his fingertips. She just stood there in silence and stared at her father’s feet as he swayed on the wooden aattu kattil in the central open courtyard of their ancestral house. Leela cried the night before the wedding and everyone believed it was because she had to leave for faraway Delhi. Even when the girls decorated her long black braid with pieces of jewellery and strings of jasmine, she wondered if her husband would allow her to sing. She had packed all her colourful silk sarees and jewellery in a sizeable steel trunk but left her dreams and hopes behind. The music inside somehow got left out at the Thrissur railway station as she hopped on to the train for the three-day-long journey to Delhi.

Over the years Leela got to know Prabhu as a person. He provided for everything that they needed, never refused whenever she wanted to visit her family and even allowed her to join the temple chorus. There is nothing to complain about. With the grace of Lord Guruvayoorappa, they have everything they need. A home, a car, a beautiful daughter, what else could she ask for? Was her father wrong in choosing Prabhu for her? Although Leela is unable to point to it, something is definitely missing. What is it? She opens her circular box of spices and adds a pinch of salt into the sambhar. Everything tastes bland without the right amount of salt. It ties all the flavours together.

Was a part of her still empty? Like a locked room in her father’s house. A room of invisible hopes, dreams and desires that could never be fulfilled. Leela has never told anyone about this room, not even Prabhu. Neither does she dare to enter it herself, but she knows, it is empty, dark and dusty. Once in a while she just stands in front of the door, looks down at the heavy brass padlock, touches the smooth, painted surface of the door which conceals the roughness of the wood beneath. The key to this room can no longer be found.

“Deee, is everything ready? They will be arriving any minute now.” Prabhu asks from the drawing room, while watching the match.

“Yes, the food is almost ready.”Leela responds equally loudly from the kitchen, wanting to be heard over the television. The smell of delicious sambhar is spreading across the kitchen.

Anuradha and Mahesh look beautiful together. She is looking at him furtively, shyly. They are smiling at each other. A smile that doesn’t need words as a companion. Her face is a mixture of so many emotions. Mahesh whispers something into her ear that makes her giggle. Her mehendi covered hands conceal her laughter. A sweet fragrance hangs around her. Is it just the flowers or maybe something else too is in the air? It is hard to distinguish.

Leela looks lovingly at her daughter as she is about to get into the waiting car, that would whisk them away to the airport. Anu is leaving. Leela still cannot believe that her little girl is now married. She has never slept without her daughter next to her, ever since the day she was born. A strange sensation creeps in her chest and claws at her throat. Tears are on the verge of spilling out of her eyes, but Leela does not want them to escape. Anu turns around to give her mother a hug.

“Ma, you were right. I just knew it was Mahesh when I met him.” Anu whispers into her mother’s ear.

“See, Anu moley. I told you so!” Leela wipes the defiant tears from her cheeks. May you receive all the happiness in the world, my child.

 

What do you do? Clean Poop!

“Even after studying so much, what happened to you? What are you doing now? Cleaning baby poop!” My 85-year old grandmother commented. My mother looked at me nervously, expecting me to react.

Surprisingly, it did not hurt. It was true. Cleaning poop is part of my job description as a Mom. I had willingly given up my job to be able to enjoy motherhood. I had made a choice for myself, one that I never regretted. I thoroughly enjoy my time with my children, knowing that they won’t be so small ever again. Their innocent eyes make me melt every time I look at them. Their questions and comments, unaffected by the world of stereotypes and biases make me wonder and laugh. I am glad I could give them a gift of my time or rather, I should say, I could gift myself this time with them. I was doing this not only for them, but for myself. Besides, there is always a time when a mother has to clean her baby’s bum, however educated and highly paid or not she is. I did not feel the need to explain this to her.
 

The disappointment my grandmother was feeling accentuated the wrinkles on her face. I could see that behind her remark was her desire to see her granddaughter doing something more ‘meaningful’ with her life. I could understand her point of view and she somewhat reminded me of Amitabh Bachchan in Piku. Not only because she too discusses her ‘motion’ out loud with my father, but for her asking me not to lose myself in an attempt to be a good mother. There she was, a petite, wrinkled, octogenarian asking her granddaughter to leave behind the traditional roles to go conquer the world.

We were three generations of women in that room. I looked at my grandmother, my mother and then myself. All three are mothers, two are grandmothers and one a great-grandmother. Interestingly, I am the only one among them to have taken a break to be with my kids. My grandmother, was a physiotherapist of her own making, she was a widowed, single mother playing the role of father and a mother at a time when most women were limited to the kitchen and child-rearing.

My own mother, got just one and half months of maternity leave and managed to work for many years, perfectly juggling her responsibilities of a mother, wife and daughter-in-law. I still remember her running around the house every morning to finish her household tasks, before rushing out of the house with her breakfast of toasted bread in one hand and water still dripping from her hair, creating a wet patch on her blouse. She wasn’t alone in her generation to do this. I am sure you would also be able to see similar examples in your own family. These women refused to be bogged down by their traditional responsibilities. They did it all with élan and most importantly without complaint.

If I compare myself to them, I cannot deny that I have it much better. They worked much longer and harder compared to what I can ever imagine doing. Most importantly, if they could do it, so can we! I feel we are in a much better space than they were. We have the advantage of greater support and understanding. Luckily, Dads are a lot more hands-on than they were previously. Daycare and pre-school facilities that were non-existent earlier are easily available now. Corporates too have begun offering extended maternity leaves up to 5-6 months, along with part-time and work-from-home options. Most have Diversity programs in place to welcome women into the workforce. There are support groups, like SHEROES and Mompreneurs which are providing opportunities for women to get back to work. I don’t think there was a time better than today for Moms who want to do it all.

Sometimes, what stops us from achieving our full potential is our own selves. We just need to believe in ourselves and chase our dreams till they are realized.

“When you want something, all the universe conspires in helping you to achieve it.” – Paulo Coelho

Confessions of a Stay-At-Home-Mom (SAHM)!

I thrived in the corporate atmosphere, thoroughly enjoyed it for eight years and then came a time when I felt that there was another role that needed my attention. That there are two tiny people in the world who need me much more than the 3,00,000+ employee strong organization I worked for. I felt the need to seize the moment to fully enjoy myself with the two people I mattered the most to. It was difficult to let go of my career, of losing the person I became in office, of losing my financial independence.

People asked if I had a plan, if I was planning to join somewhere else or start something of my own, but for the first time in my life I had nothing planned, no agenda, no objectives to meet, no deadlines to run after. It felt surprisingly good, absolutely refreshing. I won’t say it was all fun and laughter, I do have my moments of doubt. I do have my ‘good days’ and ‘bad days’ as a Stay-At-Home-Mom (S-A-H-M). On rare occasions, I do miss dressing up for work and clacking in those glossy stilettoes. There are times I miss being among like-minded colleagues and I definitely miss my own money but never, even in those moments, have I regretted the decision I have taken. There are never any regrets when one truly follows ones heart!

Over the months, I have discovered various simple joys of life, connected with old friends, met a lot of new people, learnt new and varied things, picked up on new hobbies and in the process I made acquaintance with an all new ‘me’. I chanced upon a whole new world of possibilities I never knew existed. It is like opening a fresh new notebook and having the choice to do whatever you wanted to…write, paint, sketch or make paper planes out of. The options are endless. Additionally, I don’t have to worry about performance appraisals, project deadlines, meetings, e-mails and calls. No more Monday Blues (every day is a Monday or a Sunday depending on how you look at it.)

As a S-A-H-M, the hardest thing I learnt to do (and still trying) is to not have an agenda or a to-do list on my mind all the time. Throughout school, college and office we are trained to multi-task, project plan, keep everything organized, deliver as per timelines come what may and in the whole process we forget how to just simply relax. These days I am learning the art of doing nothing (dolce far niente) from my kids. It’s therapeutic!

A lot of times you may have read how hard it is to be a full-time mother and that it is the toughest job in the world! It sure is a difficult, complex, ever-evolving, challenging role, sometimes harder than a corporate job, if we must compare it that way. But, lately I have also come to believe that it is not really a ‘job’. Rather it is a ‘privilege’, a ‘luxury’. This is the only time when my kids are the most impressionable, the most delicate years of their life, when their mom means the world to them.

These are the precious years when we have all the time in the world for each other and I know fairly well that these years are going to fly past sooner than I know. Nothing seems to give me more joy than making my kids laugh, colouring with them, pasting stickers on the wall, pretend-playing and reading children’s stories with them. Sometimes I feel like I am re-living my childhood all over again.

Now, can I really call that a job? When I am having so much fun and not getting paid for it?

(To all the working moms...Kudos to you! I am really amazed by moms who are managing it all...Career, a Home,  Kids and slightly jealous of the ones who have grandparents staying together to provide full support.)

Would love to hear from you...please do leave in some comments.

(This post is also available on mycity4kids.com and has received over 1.7Lakh hits.)

Thumb Impression

I will never forget the day my baby was born. He cried loudly just after being born and so did I on hearing him cry. While his cry was probably out of the discomfort of being born, my tears were entirely out of joy. The sheer happiness of hearing the first cry of my own baby. I just saw him for a brief second and he was taken away to the nursery.

Later, when my father met me he mentioned that our baby has a double thumb on his right hand. Although still sedated, the perfectionist in me questioned the imperfection. Later when I met my baby son, I kept looking at his thumb and wondered what may have caused it. Soon, I fell so much in love with him that I forgot about it completely.

Some people said it was lucky, some were amused, some said, “oh! Hrithik Roshan”. We even joked about it since my husband was working on brand ThumsUp , but to me, it’s just a part of him and I don’t even notice it anymore. It’s interesting how we stop noticing the flaws in people we love. When he was a baby, I wondered if other kids would tease him because of it. So far, in school, I don’t think it’s been a problem, but it’s definitely something that attracts attention from other children he meets at the park.

Some kids just notice it but don’t say anything, other smaller ones innocently ask about it. Occasionally, they gather in groups and stare at his unique thumb, especially the slightly older ones. While they are old enough to realize that it’s unusual but not mature enough to restrain themselves from passing an insensitive remark. So far, he has been a sport and it doesn’t bother him one bit. I as a mother, do not try to be overly protective either but do tell him that he is beautiful.  

A few weeks ago he came back with a sheet of paper from school with an impression of his palms on it, probably done as a part of the weekly art activity. I was admiring it closely, when I noticed a heart on it. After looking at it for a moment I realized it was the impression of his double thumb, in the shape of a neat little heart. It immediately brought a smile to me. That day I realized why he was born with a double thumb…He carries a heart on his thumb. It’s beautiful!

We all have our flaws, maybe not even as visible as a double thumb, but we often criticize ourselves and hate those flaws. I believe it’s best to be like a child, enjoying the little things around us instead of being self-critical. In any case, those who love us deeply, don’t even notice those flaws, rather we are the most beautiful in their eyes.

“There is only one beautiful child in the world, and every mother has it!” – Chinese Proverb


(Printed in the February issue of the White Print magazine)

Mother Extraordinaire!

Each mother is just as unique as her own child, but there is one thing that is common across mothers is the purest form of love in her heart, for her child. As a child I had read a story about a mother whose children were taken away and in order to get her children back she had to sacrifice her beautiful long hair, her pretty blue eyes, the rosy colour of her cheeks and she did so happily to get her children back. The story did have a happy ending when she gets re-united with her children. Even though I was just a little girl, that strange story played on my mind for some time and I felt sorry for the mother.

Now, that I am a mother of two myself, I notice all the wonderful mothers around me and some of the mothers remind me of the mother in the story. Some mothers are truly exceptional and extraordinary. These mothers touched my heart and will stay in my thoughts for a long time. A few months ago, I read about a mother who had chosen to donate her twenty-seven-year-old son’s organs who had died in a road accident. She had lost her husband when her son was small and had provided the best she could for him. She donated his organs including his heart to save the life of someone else’s child. While the newspapers had highlighted the high-octane run between the two Chennai hospitals, I was deeply touched by this mother’s pain and courage. Would this mother have given her all like the mother in the story to get her son back? Happily, I am sure. There are many other mothers too who have done the same, and I salute all of you!

Last October, there was a musical concert during Durga Puja at Sushant Lok (Gurgaon). What was unique about the group that was performing was that all the musicians and singers were visually impaired or blind. You may doubt the musical capabilities, but to everyone’s amazement, they performed beautifully, maybe even better than a lot of groups that have the gift of vision. In this group were two brothers, called Hrithik and Roshan, both extremely talented singers. Along with them was their mother, a mother extraordinaire! She was at all times attentive to the needs of her sons, offering water, wiping off beads of sweat from their forehead, guiding them in walking and even holding up their musical notes (in Braille) for them. What was also worth noticing was how happy and cheerful she was and the great friendship she shared with her sons. Would this mother have sacrificed her vision if only it could have been transferred to her sons? Gladly, I believe. I salute you, mother extraordinaire!

I know another extraordinary mother personally, my own paternal grandmother, who lost her husband in her twenties and was left with little money, no employment and a toddler to bring up all alone. A young widow was looked down upon in those days and shunted from the place she knew as home. She left her native village in Bengal and came over to Delhi in the 60’s. With some support from her sister and relatives she brought up her son, in a new city, in the midst of strangers. She learnt physiotherapy and worked as a therapist to earn a living. Each day for her was a struggle for her till her son (my father) was employed. Even till date, when she herself is eighty-five she wants to take care of her son as if he is still a teenager. Would this mother have sacrificed her youth and beauty to make her son happy? Guess what? She did! In her decades long struggle of bringing up her son alone, she never ever thought about herself, let alone her fading youth. She even lost an eye somewhere along the difficult journey. I salute you, mother extraordinaire!

Kudos to all you wonderful mothers! May all your wishes, desires, dreams and hopes for your children come true!

Frustrating Motherhood

Have you heard a mother tell you how frustrating, tiring, testing and maddening motherhood is? Most probably not and if you are a mother yourself, maybe you know exactly what I am talking about. Before I became a mother I always had the perception that motherhood was about a cute little baby, the awesome heart-warming lovey-dovey feeling of holding your child in your arms, watching them walk, babble and how wonderful they looked on the first day of school. Well, to be fair, it is indeed all of that but for some strange reason everyone forgets to tell you about the other not-so awesome things it involves. It’s like a very well-kept secret, a well-orchestrated conspiracy to not tell prospective parents how painful parenting is.

What I had completely missed out on and learnt through experience is that motherhood is also about unending sleepless nights, continuous worrying, bottle cleaning, smelly poop changing, dealing with tantrums, flu, fever and runny noses, teething problems and in the process you let go off a lot of your independence, feel your equation with your spouse changing, experience the worst kind of suffocation and get driven up the wall sometimes. For some it even involves making drastic career or life changes.

Essentially, the woman who became a mother ceases to exist, at least for some time. Not to forget, pregnancy and birthing itself hijacks her body and leaves behind scars for life. Except for few women who are extremely lucky, her body transforms into that of an older woman. Caring for one’s own self often takes a backseat and you watch yourself age at an accelerated pace.

I have also witnessed how Moms tend to feel the burden much more than the dads. Well, the new age dads are often more involved than their predecessor dads but still it is the mother who is feeling guilty and beating herself up for not being the ‘best mother’ or living up to the perception she has of an ‘ideal mother’. The ‘ideal mother’ is always just a few steps ahead of what she is, so the ‘real mother’ is never really exceeding expectations. In her own eyes, she is almost always an under performer.

In the days of our mommies, the standards and practices of parenting were different and extended families were active partners in child rearing, with grandmothers and aunts filling in. I am sure that generation had their own fair share of problems but I feel that in today’s day when families are mostly nuclear the challenge for mommies has increased. The practices that were employed by our parents have largely gone out of style. The behaviours for which we had earned a whack or a harsh scolding as children now demand calm and constructive counselling from us as parents. Even when the new age mommy tries to look for answers online to some simple parenting questions there are multiple opinions from a plethora of experts which sometimes makes it even worse for the already troubled parent. You learn how to be a parent every day, on the job, often through trial-and-error.

So, dear friend if you are not a parent already, please think long and hard about it before embarking on the scariest roller coaster ride of your life. It’s definitely comparable to getting a tattoo on your face. Life will never be the same again once you become a parent. Do not give in to parental and societal pressures for procreating at all costs. None of those advisers are going to stay up nights for you. If and when you feel that you are ready to enter the parenting battle-zone should you do so. And if you are already on the same boat as me, please hang in there and keep telling the world how truly wonderful it is to be parents and post some pictures that show how angelic they are!

The Daughter I Never Had

A Short Story

Sunita was preparing dinner for her family. Her eight month old son was sleeping in the cradle in her room while her toddler played in the drawing room with her sister-in-law. Sunita had worked as a teacher in a primary school before her children were born. Presently, she was a housewife, taking care of her home and family was her duty. Her family comprised of her husband, his parents, his sister, grandmother and her two sons. Her husband a post graduate, worked at a bank and earned sufficiently to support all of them.

Sunita was making chapattis in the kitchen and was wondering if she was late. Her delay had earned her harsh taunts from her mother-in-law in the past, but what she feared much more was the tight slap from her husband that had left his palm printed on her face. She suddenly heard a child whisper into her ear. Although she could not make out what was being said, it was distinctly the voice of a child, a girl, not more than five. There was no one beside her and she dismissed it. Maybe she was tired.

Two days later while picking up her son’s toys from the floor she heard the voice again, whispering close to her right ear. She did not think much about it till later in the evening when her mother-in-law spoke about how Ammaji was losing her mind with old age. While Sunita knew that Ammaji at times spoke about very old incidents or forgot dates but this was bizarre. She had claimed to see a pretty little girl in the house, dressed in a beautiful frock and she asserted that it was Sunita’s daughter.

Later, that night as Sunita was drifting off to sleep after completing all her chores and putting her sons to sleep, she was startled to hear someone call out to her... ‘Ma’. She sat up with a jerk and found both her sons and husband sleeping peacefully. She could no longer go back to sleep and began thinking about the voice she had heard repeatedly over the past few days and about Ammajis insistence of having seen her daughter in the house. She was reminded of the time when she had been pregnant with their first child five years ago, before her sons were born.

Tears rolled down her sleepless melancholic eyes as she recalled how the gender detection test ordered by her mother-in-law had led to a big upheaval in their otherwise peaceful life. Her premature daughter had been snatched away from her, denied to live, extracted forcefully from her womb in an obscure nursing home in old Gurgaon. Sunita had cried for days, not from the pain, but from the grief of having lost her baby. Her husband although not an active accomplice had remained speechless and powerless in front of his mother’s wishes. The two pregnancies that followed would have met the same fate, but luckily for her, they were both male.

She wondered how an educated woman like her mother-in-law, who had been a school teacher herself, could harbour such hatred for her own creed. How a person could decide to end the life of her own grandchild, just because she was a girl? She could have revolted against her mother-in-law which would have left her homeless and rejected even by her own parents, but how could she fight against a society that considered a son to be the prized possession and a daughter as a burden. With these thoughts running in her mind, Sunita stayed awake till her tired body took over and guided her to sleep. She dreamt of a little girl in the pink frock, her face as pretty as a porcelain doll, bright eyes, pink lips and the most beautiful smile she had ever seen.

As per the 2011 population census, Haryana has sex ratio of 879 females per 1000 males, which is much below the national average of 940.

Interesting Census Facts 2011

§  Mahe district of Puducherry has the highest sex ratio of 1176 females per 1000 males

§  Daman district has lowest sex ratio of 533 females per 1000 males

 

http://www.census2011.co.in/states.php

For the Lovely Ladies (Part 2)

This post is based on my experiences and of a lot of women friends. I hope it will be able to help the wonderful men in our lives understand how we feel about certain things and what they can do to help us. I know they want to (even if to avoid the verbal lashing), but just that they can’t get into our head to understand how we are looking at certain things. Most of the times it is just a difference of perspective and priority.
 

Here are a few gory details about the things that bother a lot of women making them want to bite his head off (just like a lioness) and just so men can get a glimpse of what goes through a woman’s mind. I do not believe that all men do this or that a single man does all of this. I do know that they have a lot of good qualities for which they are loved.

1)      Clothes: Worn clothes including underwear, smelly socks and sweaty vests lying on the floor, just the way you took them off and let them drop to the floor and no it does not make her conjure up images of you looking sexy when you undress, neither does she get intoxicated by your lingering scent. The sight is repulsive!

You probably hob nob with your colleagues and talk about the latest business strategies when she picks up those dirty clothes and drops them in for washing. You work on that important presentation, when your clothes are dried, folded and ironed. When you are in the team huddle they are nicely stacked into your cupboard, fit to be worn again. Every morning they are laid out for you, so you can just slip into them, admire yourself in the mirror and leave for work looking dapper as ever. 

It feels great to wear clean, ironed, nice smelling clothes. If you don’t take care of your own, then please say thank you to the person who takes care of them for you and if it’s not too much to ask then please help in whatever way you can.

2)      The Wet Towel: A used wet towel making itself comfortable on the bed and the mattress soaking in the water from that soggy towel. You may or may not expect anyone to pick after you, but then do you expect the towel to dry itself sitting all crunched up on the bed and be fresh for use the next morning?  

Sometimes she is tempted to leave it there just the way you left it so you can enjoy the stench the next morning. Instead, she puts it out in the sun for drying or for washing. She sometimes wonders if you would ever wash your towel or change your bed sheets if you stayed alone.

3)      Shoes: Your shoes are enormous and no they are not so pretty that you should place them around the house. She fears that someday someone would trip over them. It doesn’t take too much effort to put them back into the rack when you take them off. That would be so kind of you.

 

Also, please don’t walk all over the house with your shoes on, especially if you have come from a place that has dirt or mud. You may have forgotten that a lot of effort is put in everyday to keep the house clean and dust free.

 

4)      Kitchen: The F&B department almost always becomes a woman’s responsibility, as if by default. Even if you have a cook, she regularly thinks about what needs to be bought, cooked and placed on your plate. She ensures you get healthy, warm, variety food for every meal, every day. There are no prizes for doing this. On the contrary, if you can even make a cup of tea you want a hug and a thank you. If you happen to be smart enough to make a meal then it’s a huge thing for which she is expected to be grateful for. Posting it on facebook makes you look hungry, more for appreciation than for the food you made.

 

It doesn’t hurt sometimes to ask if she needs some help or if you can make things simpler for her. Some men would say, “Well, I did not ask her to cook.” You seem to have missed out on the fact that she would like you to have good food. It’s not about survival but living and enjoying. It might have been ingrained somewhere in her mind that “The way to a man’s heart is through his stomach.”

 

5)      Home Ministry: She ensures that your house feels like home, everything is clean and in place. In India mostly everyone has maids to clean the house, but managing them is a task in itself and if you have had the chance of staying at home for an extended period of time without your wife you may start to feel the difference soon.

 

Please keep things back in place once you have used them and try to keep it as clean as possible (more on this has already been elaborated in points 1to 3). Ask her if you have any annoying habits, you might be in for a surprise.

 

6)      Child Care: After months of carrying and painfully delivering your baby she takes on the heavier load of child care responsibilities. She stays up nights, feeds, changes dirty diapers and happily takes on the toughest job on earth. She also realizes that her body is no longer how it used to be. Do tell her that she is the most beautiful woman in your eyes, give her a gift, however small, as a token of your appreciation. It’s a roller coaster ride so hold on tight, to each other.

 

There is great joy in bringing up your children. There is nothing more manly than taking full responsibility of your kids, changing dirty diapers, cleaning puke, helping with homework and all. Do give her a break even if she is not asking for it. Trust me she will love you for it.

 

After taking care of the house and baby instead of hearing a few soft words of love and appreciation, she may hear complaints of certain things she missed out on. Did you notice how much she has already done? Maybe she did your share of housework too. If you do not care to thank her at least don’t compare her to another woman who is prettier/ slimmer/ earns more/cooks better. It breaks her heart to pieces, just like a piece of glass falling from a height. Be careful, don’t let the shards come hurtling at you.

 

I know a lot of men reading this might be thinking “I don’t do this” and I agree with you. I know that there are a lot of wonderful men out there who help a lot around the house, they cook, even change poopy diapers and wake up at night to feed the baby and do whatever is needed to keep the house clean and care for the woman in their life. But, if there is something you have been missing out on, then please do think about it. It is incredibly sexy when a man helps around the house and cares for his children. The days when fathers had an extremely limited role at home and in childcare are long gone.
 

Ladies, if you are feeling lucky after reading this since your man takes care of these things, then love him dearly and tell him how wonderful he is. Trust me, there are a lot of other men who do not. Luckily for those in India, we have the luxury of getting paid help. No wonder we love our maids so much. Also, a lot of times helpful in-laws and parents pitch in to take care of the house and children, which is definitely a blessing.

 

At times we take on too much, we all want to be superwomen, do it all. But, do you really have to? We are capable of multi-tasking and actually doing everything, but please don’t do it if it stresses you out. Do as much as you enjoy doing. Take it easy, you need breaks too. It's okay if something is less than perfect. We may expect others to understand our feelings but they are not mind readers. Voice your concerns, ask for help because he might be willing to help you but just doesn’t know if something has been bothering you or how he could help.

 

You do not have to sacrifice yourself for petty household chores. There are many other better things to do life. Do something that makes you happy, even if it is for a few minutes a day. Invest in yourself, your mind, health, soul. See a specialist if something has been a nagging problem. Don’t let anyone or anything steal you happiness. Observe how a happier you makes everyone else around you happy. Life is way too short to live with regrets.

 

Roar on Lioness!

 

“When you want something, all the universe conspires in helping you to achieve it.” – Paulo Coelho

For the Lovely Ladies (Part 1)

 

 

For the Lovely Ladies!

Whenever all the Dutta women meet (usually at a family wedding) they surely end up talking about the love of their life, their darling Mr. Dutta and how inept they are at household chores. To be more accurate, this is the “Dutta Male Bashing Session” and the ladies share a few hearty laughs. Here the boundary of young and old blur and I hear interesting stories about the Dutta husbands from the other older Mrs Duttas in the family.

 

While most of the women in the group have been married for over twenty or thirty years, I realize how in my short 7 years of married life, I have faced similar challenges and issues and unlike the older women in the family who took up all the household chores as their responsibility with a smile, I have often questioned this unequal divide and on several occasions bitterly fought with my husband. I never found an answer to why I should do everything while he gets to sit back and relax.

 

I was also brought up just like him with my parents keeping me away from the mundane household chores and telling me that I must focus on my studies and learn to stand on my own two feet. Academic excellence was the primary expectation from me. Every time I would enter the kitchen my mother shooed me away lest I burn myself and she feared who would want to marry a burnt girl!

 

While I am equally educated, qualified and skilled, as a wife it is expected that I would take care of the house like an expert, cook like an experienced chef, as if I had received some special training and certification to become a wife. I too had a demanding full time corporate job just like him, but that did not mean he would think about the house like me. Probably my only and greatest disadvantage was my gender and the big baggage of expectations that come with it.

 

In my growing up years and especially before marriage I noticed how carefully my mother would lay out the clothes for my father every single day, keep his towel in place and promptly pour a glass of water for him the moment he stepped into the house. She ensured everybody’s clothes were washed, dried, ironed and put back in place daily.

 

Being a fantastic cook her kitchen was always flowing with delicacies and her fridge with Bengali sweets. Her cooking attracted a lot of guests who she hosted with great delight. Home ministry was always hers and she wholeheartedly gave it her all. She took pride in it and hated any interference from anybody on how she runs her kingdom. She did everything with incredible amounts of energy and a smile.

 

Since I had not done any household chores and had never prepared a single meal for two in my entire existence my mother was not sure how her daughter would manage and even went ahead and cautioned my husband about it. However, my mother did miss out on the fact that her daughter had stayed alone and taken care of herself in a foreign land and that her little girl had been observing her role model meticulously take care of every detail in the house for over two decades.

 

In my early twenties, I looked at my mother disapprovingly and confidently told her that I would never fall into this trap and do “Pati Pooja” (husband worship). I even criticized her for placing her husband on a pedestal and spoiling him. I look back at those times and laugh at myself. Now I look up to my mother in awe and continue to learn from her and wonder if I would ever have her skill and patience levels.
 

Have you seen a lioness in the wild? The lioness hunts, protects, feeds and teaches her cubs. She holds the brood together while the lion blissfully sleeps for around seventeen hours a day! Still, what do we call them…A pride of Lions!
 
Bravo Lioness!

You may also like a related post For the Lovely Ladies (Part 2)

Walking with an Octogenarian

We recently moved into our new home in a multistoried, multi-tower complex in Gurgaon. It gives me ample opportunity to meet new people from different walks of life. I enjoy meeting people from the same building and a lot of new moms who get their kids to the park.
 
If you are a parent and especially a stay at home mom to a toddler you may be able to relate to the need to speak to some adults after spending most of your time with children. It’s a breath of fresh air to be able to speak to someone in your normal adult voice rather than being the commanding parent or the animated story teller mom or the one speaking in a sing song childish voice to entice your kid to switch off the TV or IPad to join you in a game.
 
Being a mother is indeed the toughest job in the world. There are no weekends, holidays or chai breaks even at times. Your clients (kids) are super demanding, they may need you during the day or night. This is not a project that’s going to end in a few weeks and they will lay demands on your body, mind, soul and heart. You are a Mom 24x7 and you do not even get paid in monetary terms to reward yourself with spa or retail therapy.
 
Anyways, coming back to meeting new people…one evening I had left the kids under the expert care and supervision of my husband and decided to walk to the nearby market. Just as I was leaving I bumped into an old lady from our building. I had met her a couple of times earlier. She was also going to the market and started walking with me.

The crisp white chikankari kurta looked beautiful on her tall slender frame.  She had wrinkles on her face and hands, but there was a beautiful glow to her skin and bright eyes. I imagined how beautiful she must have been in her prime. I am confident that she would have made a lot of heads turn. She was radiating elegance. Such grace and beauty at that age is rare. She spoke to me all through the way, without losing her breath and easily matching her pace with mine. I was amazed.
 

She told me about her two children- her son who is a vascular surgeon, her daughter, her grandchildren and two lovely great grandchildren. I could hear the happiness and contentment in her voice as she spoke about her greatest assets, her children. She had a soft smile on her face all along. She reminded me a lot about my own grandmother. As we were about to part ways at the market, I could not resist and asked her how old she was and complimented her on her fitness. She laughed.

 
That evening my thoughts kept going back to her leaving behind a smile on my face. I wondered if there would be a day in my life when I would be an old woman and my children would be grown up independent individuals. Then maybe I would be able to talk about my children with equal pride and satisfaction.
 
Maybe the feeling of accomplishment that you get from watching your children succeed is much greater than what you feel about your own achievements. That feeling is probably worth all the sleepless nights, sacrifices and frustrations in the wonderful journey of parenting.