Family Trademark!

It’s the Friday, the thirteenth, but the day began well for me with my post on parenting getting posted on the webpage for ParentEdge magazine. I proudly show the e-mail to my husband and he happily congratulates me. Soon after he leaves, it is time for me to give our one year old a bath. Like every day, he is playing a game with me while I try to massage him with oil. Every time I take my hands off him to get some oil, he crawls away from the mat and laughs when I struggle to reach out and catch him. The only difference today was that he seemed to a little more enthusiastic than usual. He giggled at me while rolling on the bed as I tried to grab his tiny little foot.

With tiny pink lips and curly locks of hair that hang on his face, he looks like a doll to me. He looks so cute that people often mistake him for a girl! It is such a joy watching him that sometimes I don’t want him to grow up. Once more, as I sit on one side of the bed and let go off him to pour some oil on my palm, he crawls away, smiling. He turns to see me and sneaks a mischievous look at me, waiting for me to reach out. I notice that he has reached the other extreme of the bed, I call out his name but before I can grab him, he rolls over, bumps his head on the side table before hitting the floor with a thud. He begins to cry in pain as I rush over and pick him up.

As I try to console him I feel like a failure as a mother. A mother who failed to protect her little one from getting hurt. I hold him close and as he calms down I find an ugly blue bump emerging on his forehead and a small cut at the outer corner of his right eye. Once he stops crying I take him to his bathtub and to my surprise he happily begins to play in the warm water, while a droplet of blood on the side of his eyelid mocks at me, leaving me feeling terrible. It is indeed amazing how soon kids get back to normal and forget their pain. I wish we adults could do the same. I begin to wonder if it is indeed something to do with Friday the 13^th.

I call up my husband to share my anguish. I narrate the whole incident and tell him how miserable I am feeling about the cut. Knowing that the skin near our eyelids is delicate, I fear that the mark would probably stay for a lifetime. He responds by telling me that it is our ‘family trademark’ since the three of us (My husband, elder son and I) already have it and our younger son just got his. I had not even thought about it like that and I realize it only when he says it. I feel a small hint of a smile emerging on my lips and fall in love with him a little more for diffusing my tension in the most unusual way possible. Interestingly, my mother too says the same thing when I tell her about it.

Later in the day I watch my brave little soldier play, smile and walk around the house as usual and I feel relieved. While he seems to have moved on and forgotten about the injury, I seemed to be hurting for much longer than him. I wish we adults too could put our hurt and pain (physical and emotional) behind us with the same ease as little children and move ahead in life with a carefree smile. We have so much to learn from them, to love wholeheartedly, forgive easily, make friends effortlessly, laugh freely, be surprised by small things, find joy in everything (except eating), jump without the fear of falling, forget pain quickly and focus all our energy in having fun all the time!


(Printed in the March Issue of the White Print Magazine)

Valentine’s Day and All That Jazz!

It’s the 14^th of February this Saturday! Isn’t it just wonderful that it falls on a Saturday this time?  For those wonderful couples who believe in celebrating the ‘Day of Love’, it’s simply perfect! You go to any market place or mall or even an online store and you shall see cute little hearts splashed all over. The shades of red and pink are peeking from everywhere. It’s all so sugary sweet, it makes me feel nauseous. No offense meant to those who have special plans for celebrating the day, cooing sweet nothings into your beloved’s ear, while holding hands through the day.

Sometimes, I feel as if celebrating Valentine’s Day is more of a thing for teenagers who believe that love is just like the way it is shown in romantic movies, expressed through cards, gifts and flowers. I see this as an excellent opportunity for many companies to make money by setting up a perfect honey trap for you. They all seem so eager to sell you something that’s perfect for your partner. Doesn’t it look like they are much too interested in improving your love life? Sorry if I am making you feel bad… maybe it’s just that I have been married too long to believe in these mushy things.

If we needed a brand ambassador for Valentine’s Day, then I can only picture one man, standing there, with his arms spread out, telling his senorita how much he loves her. No one other than Shahrukh Khan comes to my mind. Having grown up in the 90’s, my impressionable mind at that age made me believe that maybe love was like that. That the man who loves you understands your feelings and emotions just by looking into your eyes and conveys his love eloquently through words. His intense eyes and facial expression convey true eternal love etc. Somewhere in my mind I blame him for making us girls believe in these fairy stories and also increasing the burden on the guys to be like him. Have you really come across a real guy like that who is capable of mindreading their partner’s feelings when she clearly say she is ‘fine’?

While I don’t believe in celebrating Valentine’s Day, I am still a die-hard romantic. To me, the best gifts are those that can never be mass produced in a factory or bought at the Archie’s store nearby. Love need not be conveyed through that super expensive bouquet of red roses bought on Valentine’s Day. Love cannot be celebrated on fourteenth of February every year and forgotten the next day. The most romantic words are never the cliché ‘I Love You’. While I absolutely do believe in expressing love, it doesn't need to be in any prescribed format or on a particular date.

To me, it’s a part of our lives, it is transient and continuous. It needs nurturing and grows through the investment of time from both. Also, if things are not as you would desire them to be, then you yourself need to be the knight in shining armour and put in effort to get things back on track. Love doesn’t need to wait for Valentine’s Day to be celebrated and neither is it limited to one day. It something that you live, breathe and feel every day and it’s not just about loving your husband or boyfriend either. It may not even be expressed in words, but can be hidden in a million things we do for our loved ones everyday.


You may also enjoy reading A Quaint Love Story!

I am working from home!

When I became a mother four years ago, I was working with a multinational organisation. I had a job that I loved and never could imagine that my becoming a mother could interfere with my career. I had no idea that my heart would begin to pull me in different directions. I had believed that I would be able to jump into my job as soon as my maternity leave got over, but I was wrong, so wrong. I discovered with experience that motherhood is something that changed my priorities for life.

Thankfully for me, the organization that I worked for allowed me to work from home (WFH) for a few months after my maternity leave was over. Although it was difficult, but it still was a big blessing for me. It allowed me to be around my baby for longer, feed him and watch him as he achieved some of his growth milestones. I could cuddle him and kiss him whenever I wanted. However, working from home came with its own challenges, such as working in an environment that was not as peaceful as my office cubicle, lacked the fancy telecommunication systems and the suave meeting rooms. The other thing that I missed out on was the ability to catch up with my colleagues and discuss things face-to-face with them.

However, what pinched me most was the perception of colleagues that when you work from home, you are not working as seriously. Interestingly, some family and friends also felt that since you are at home, your work is not as serious, which was far from reality. On the contrary, I ended up working all the time, late into the night or early in the morning and making the most of my time when my baby slept. While in office I had the chance to chat with people over a ‘chai break’, at home I began to feel guilty about getting up even to eat breakfast. On certain busy days I did not even get a chance to comb my hair. In spite of all these difficulties, I preferred to work from home since the control freak mother in me, found it hard to let her baby out of sight during the initial months.

Around the same time, I saw some of my friends in other organizations who did not have the privilege of working from home, either drop out of their jobs to become stay at home mothers or worse, suffered from guilt for not being with their kids for a significant part of the day. Often, unable to match up to the energy levels of their toddlers once they returned home from a heavy day at work. The kind of guilt mothers feel for spending time away from the kids is unique to our species. I barely see fathers feeling bad for spending long hours at work, travelling or spending time away from their children, having delegating their parenting responsibilities to their wife and other family members. Overall, I definitely felt blessed to be able to manage the two important spheres of my life.

Through these years, I really wished that more organizations offered a work from home option for their employees, be it women or men and more importantly offer it without carrying any bias, which would allow many more women to stay in the workforce through the tough years of child rearing. Secondly, I would love to see people who do not work from home treating those who do with respect. Respect for their work and for them as a person for juggling two worlds at the same time, while they themselves have to take care of just one at a time. Lastly, to all the mothers who are working from home, I would like to say…please do take care of yourself too. In our pursuit to be superwomen and supermoms we often forget our own selves. So, do make time for yourself, relax, it is okay even if everything is not as perfect as you would like it to be. While reaching the destination is important, enjoying the journey to get there makes it even better!

However, do not let the perception of you on others spoil the spirit within. Rise up and tweak the perception so that it is just right for you.

Originally published at Work from Home Divas India website (http://www.workfromhomedivasindia.in/wfh-peril-perception-dont-juggle-them-tweak-them-to-be-just-right/)

The Best Gift Ever!

With my birthday coming up, I am reminiscent of my previous birthday and the year that has gone by for me. Just a day before my previous birthday, I went to my office to hand over my laptop and bid farewell to my colleagues. It was the first time in my life I was going to be unemployed and unoccupied by a desk job or studies. For the first time in my life, I had nothing planned. I had not thought about what I was going to do or if I would ever join back into the corporate world. To be honest, I welcomed this unusual break. All through my life I had either been studying or working and for the first time I nothing on my hands that would use my intellectual capacity, force me think critically or strategically.

I had continued to work after the birth of my first child four years ago. I was struggling, yet juggling my job and my baby, getting crushed in between. But, now with the birth of my second child, I wanted to give myself a chance to enjoy motherhood, to stop being the superwoman I wasn’t. However, for some strange reason I felt I needed a laptop. My husband suggested an I-pad or tab since that would make it easy for me to browse through and read things online but for some reason I insisted on a laptop, maybe because I had always had one for the past decade of my life.

My parents had been keen to gift me a pair of earrings on the birth of my second child but I asked them not to buy one. I could see no use for another pair of earrings that would sit pretty, locked in the cupboard. Instead, I asked them to gift me a laptop. I just wanted something basic and comfortable, but my father, who loves gadgets choose to buy me one of the best ones in the market and gifted it to me on my birthday and I must say it’s the best gift ever, way better than the best diamonds. After all, it’s not just a laptop, it’s my window to escape into an all new world, whenever I wish to. It is my key to freedom. It allows me to dive into the all new world of writing and I swim through words to explore this new world.

A thought may occur to me, but its only when I sit down in front of the laptop, does the thought leap to take form. It’s only when I type, my thoughts take shape, just like water coming out of a fountain, soaring high and then touching the earth, with droplets scattering all over, like little pearls. It is only through this that I have been able to touch so many lives, bring tears and smiles to people around me, people I may or may not even know. Most importantly, it has allowed me to find a new passion, to learn new things, to play with words, to lose myself and discover a new me.

Thank you Papa and Ma for this beautiful gift! Last year, this was just a laptop, now it is a lot more!

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!

Life is Beautiful!

Writing has been immensely rewarding. It gives me the ability to flex my intellectual muscle and the rewards in the form of compliments I receive feel wonderful. It is pure joy for me when people tell me that they have enjoyed reading it, that it made them feel some emotions. A lot of friends told me that they never knew I could write so well. The honest truth is, that even I did not know that I could and that I would enjoy it so much, even if it is about small incidents from my life which can be easily forgotten with the passage of time. I did think about writing, many a times over the past few years, but actually got down to doing it very recently, only after I fell unconscious after a head injury. I gained consciousness to a new ‘me’.

Only after the incident I felt that I was missing something, that I had to do something other than what I was doing already, that I had to do something selfish, only for myself and if it brings a smile to others, then that is a huge bonus. There is a deep realization within me that there is more to life than the money we earn, the job we hold, the material possessions, the clothes, shoes or mobile phone that we have. Only if we choose to keep ourselves happy, can we make ourselves happy, or our days can be spent looking at life pass us by like we would look at the world from the window of a bus. I notice a lot of people complain and feel angry at a lot of things on a regular basis, life can be easily spent in dissatisfaction too. I am guilt of it too at times, but I try to avoid it as much as possible.

I write my blog to be able to share some thoughts and experiences with all those willing to read, sometimes, I write to my husband, to share some of my innermost thoughts and feelings with him, knowing that I cannot say all that I want to, verbally. I write to my children too, a diary in the form of tiny letters to them, about their growth milestones, about holidays we spent together, about the beautiful moments they have given me, even the things they have broken and how a touch, a kiss, a hug or a few words from them that make my life much richer than it ever could have been. They show me so much every day, that can only be experienced…words and photographs can only capture fragments of it. When I began writing the diary soon after my elder son was born, I could not really pin point as to why I write to him. But, lately, the reasons became clearer to me.

I write to them, so we remember the precious moments we have spent together. They would not remember these beautiful years of their life when they grow up and my memory might get hazy too with time. These letters would act as their external hard drives, so they can enjoy moments from their childhood again, read about themselves and have a good laugh, marvel about their own acts of mischief. Maybe, when they are teenagers or even older, they may disagree/argue with me, question what their mother did for them, they would still know that their mother loves them irrespective of everything else. Lastly, when I am no longer around them, they can still have a little bit of me telling them how much I love them. They will be able to relive the beautiful moments we have spent together as mom and kids.

I feel that we all lead extraordinarily beautiful lives, we just need to believe it and identify that beauty in our lives. Like I said earlier, only if we choose to keep ourselves happy, can we make ourselves happy. Dreams need to be chased, heartfelt desires need to be worked on and feelings need to be communicated.  I also believe that it is essential to celebrate, be it a birthday, an anniversary, all achievements, however small, in whichever way that gives us happiness, be it through a party, or a trip, a private dinner, anything….but it has to be something. Only when we enjoy ourselves can we remember it for long, we would not remember the uneventful, routine days we spent watching life pass us by. It is the special, happy, wonderful moments that make our lives worth living, and these moments need us to make them memorable.

“Memories have to be made in order to remember them. Make some really good ones every day!”

                                                                                                                               -          Doe Zantamata