Kuch Din to Gujariye Gujarat mein!

It is going to be close to two months since we moved to Ahmedabad but it surely feels like a lot more. It was not easy with kids crying every morning before school, missing old friends, getting small things done around the house, getting used to the new routine, home and neighbourhood. We are still getting there I would say, to still feel like we are 'home'.

In the first month of our stay, we experienced rainfall every single day. It rained in the day, it rained through the night, all afternoon and at times continued endlessly for days at varying speeds. On one occasion, we even had to rush to the kid’s school, wade into knee deep water to get them back home. The week after, the schools remained closed for an entire week!

It made me wonder how much it could rain in one place, when it would finally stop and if the entire country’s monsoon clouds had gathered over Gujarat and to an extent it indeed had and Gujarat was in a state of flood. Parts of northern Gujarat and rural areas were badly affected.

Thankfully, even after torrential rains 80-90% of the roads are still where they were and even on rainy days the area we stay in was not water logged and there were no reports of people being stuck in traffic for hours on end. This was a small miracle compared to what would have happened if Gurgaon/Delhi was to get even a fraction of this rainfall. What was even more amazing is that the first day after the rains stopped, there were people at work repairing main roads that were broken!

 After the first few weeks, I have managed to pick-up a few words in Gujarati, recognise the roads and places nearby (big thanks to Google Maps) and even manged to visit a stepwell (Adalaj Ni Vav) and Baroda, which is just two hours away via the super smooth expressway. During this time I have also come across some nuances of staying in Ahmedabad/Gujarat which might be unique to those coming from outside the state.

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• It is difficult to get a white fridge! Yes, I went to several dealers but it seems there is little or no demand for white fridges. People seem to prefer grey or dark metallic shades. Even a lot of buildings here are grey rather than any other colour. Interestingly, when it comes to cars, white is the most favoured colour. Also, the luxury car of choice here is the grand old Mercedes, rather than the more popular Audi or BMW in comparison to north India.

•  Driving is slightly different too. Even with traffic signals on, traffic police need to be present in person to make the citizens move in a disciplined fashion. Drivers honk so much that I have come to believe that they are probably given licenses based on their ability to honk rather than drive. I really do hope this changes before my ears drums are permanently damaged. Parking is usually a challenge, with a general aversion to park in basements, even when it is available free of charge. Once you drive on the streets of Ahmedabad, chances are you won’t complain about driving in Delhi/ Gurgaon, which is famous for 'roadrage'. Even on the expressway, people tend to take the emergency lane on the extreme left to overtake rather than from the right. Surely, our Dilliwalas wont have stepped off the accelerator if they had access to such a smooth express way, but here people stick to the speed limit of 100 kms/hr. 

• Ice-cream everywhere! The frequency and the ease with which you will spot ice-cream parlours (Havmor) is much greater than ATMs and medical stores. There are numerous stores that exclusively sell ice-cream.

• There are certain unique practices too which are new to me, such as, taking footwear off outside homes, stores and even clinics. Most homes have shoe racks placed outside the entrance and sinks fitted right in the dining room for washing hands.
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• Lastly, there are certain grocery items that I was used to and never could have imagined I would not get at the neighbourhood super market for instance– Nestle Dahi, Ananda paneer, breads from Britannia/English Oven or any of the major brands. But, there are alternatives that quickly take that place and this is the land of Amul, so I have been introduced to a wider range of Amul products than I ever knew existed. Amul even makes cookies...did u know?

I also see influence of neighbouring states, Rajasthan and Maharashtra here, in terms of clothing, buildings, and celebration of festivals, but surely Gujarat does have its own distinct flavour.

I am enjoying the benefits of staying in Ahmedabad. Everything is within a span of 2 to 10 kilometres. There are new places to explore on weekends, I am enjoying cleaner air (let me not talk about the hard water here), driving on emptier roads (since I stay in a newly developed part of the city), listening to Gujarati radio (with Bollywood songs), waking up to the calls of peacocks and chirping of birds. I can even hear the train go by on silent nights. Sighting peacocks, mongooses, langoors and even nilgais around the area is not uncommon.

 I am in the mood to enjoy whatever Gujarat has to offer, culturally, historically, gastronomically, and emotionally. And I would encourage my friends to come visit us. Just like Amitabh Bachchan says, “Kuch din to gujariye Gujarat mein!”

Ladies: The shopping is good too, especially for ethnic wear with plenty of exhibitions to go to.

Here's another post on Ahmedabad that I had written sometime ago.

Goodbye Gurgaon!

It’s 5:29 AM and I am awake. Actually, I have been for the last hour or so since he left for the airport. The same feeling of ‘now you are in-charge’ envelops me. It’s the ‘mode’ I put on whenever hubby is away. I tell myself, you can easily sleep for one more hour, but no, my brain refuses to oblige. (Before I got married, I was determined not to be like my mother, a little too alert and anxious when my father travelled, especially though a teen’s perspective. But, as time passes I see myself gradually becoming more like her.)

It’s too early to get out of bed, the kids are asleep, the house and the world outside is silent. With my eyes closed and body still (like I am still pretending to sleep) my mind begins to wander. I think new thoughts and bring back old memories. Some memories are easy to find, like they are on the top shelf of my bedside drawer, but others are lying in the bottom shelf, hard to retrieve, dusty and takes time and effort to pull out.

I think about the last ten years of our marriage and even the time before that. All the years I have spent in Gurgaon, right from the time I was a school girl and Gurgaon was like a budding city with a few residential buildings and even fewer corporate offices. Where finding snakes and mongooses was a common phenomenon. Schools and hospitals were numbered and the bus journey to my school in Vasant Kunj took 20 minutes. The construction of the highway had not begun and to travel to Delhi using public transport (Haryana Roadways) was an adventure in itself. Sounds unbelievable, no?

I witnessed how it grew from being the real “gaon” to the “global village” that it is turning out to be with world class schools, offices, restaurants, shopping centres, hospitals (not to mention traffic and pollution levels). Similarly, it watched me grow from a school girl in uniform, to college student, to office goer, to married woman, to becoming a mother-of two. I have called Gurgaon home for more than 18 years. Right from passing out of school, college, university, job, marriage and motherhood, this has been my base.

I would not have been thinking about it as I had never in all these years, for I had taken it for granted. Even the thought of living in another city never crossed my mind…till a few weeks ago. Soon, it will be reality. It will be time to pack our bags and move. This is more unbelievable to me than the transformation of Gurgaon. Nowadays, I look at everything through the lens of ‘What am I going to miss?’ and I see a lot around me that I am going to miss very dearly, including a lot of friends and family.

It’s 6:30 AM, hubby has boarded the flight and the kids have begun to stir….

P.S: Hubby is moving to a role in Ahmedabad and we are moving with him. The city is not alien to me having visited the city several times (and blogged about it) since my in-laws stay there. My mother says, “After 10 years of marriage, you are moving to your sasural.” Indeed, I am.

The Scent of Love

He came home smelling of perfume...I chose not to question him

The kids had fallen asleep. It was peaceful, dark and cosy in the bedroom. I like this time of the day when there are no more chores, the laptop has been put to rest and I can be ‘me’, relieved of my duties as ‘mother of two’. He was expected to come home late after a daylong conference and dinner at a hotel.

I was blissfully reading The Forty Rules of Love, a book so luxurious and elegant that your life melts as you enter into the lives of the characters, mainly, Shams of Tabriz (a dervish), Rumi the Sufi poet, writer Aziz and a wife and mother in the current day and age, Ella. Right from the beginning I could most clearly picture Ella, her life as a wife and mother of two. 

I had nodded off to sleep while reading about Ella finding out about her cheating husband and her not feeling the need to confront him, even after several hints about his promiscuity. Even without my realising I had drifted off somewhere between sleep and waking, where reality and dreams morph into a weird state of trance. 

I woke up to my reality with a start only when my phone rang and he was at the door. I opened the door with a smile and offered him a glass of water. 

There was a distinct and powerful smell of perfume, too flowery and sweet smelling for a man. It was definitely not what he usually wears. 

Not able to ignore it much longer, I asked “Perfume? This is not yours, right?”

He remained silent, hesitated, and finally said with a smile, “Secret, Secret.”

“This is not yours for sure. Where did this come from?”

“There was a display counter at the hotel and I just tried some on.” There was something about the way he said it. 

“Your story was good, but I can always tell when you lie.” I told him before going into the bathroom. After nine years of knowing him, I knew this was not the truth. It did bother me and I kept thinking about it as I brushed my teeth for the night. But, I was surely not going to ask him about it or argue. Definitely not at this time of the night.

When I stepped into the bedroom and my eyes adjusted to the dim lights, I saw a neatly wrapped pink package waiting on my pillow. 

“Happy Anniversary…in advance!” he said.

“It’s more than a month away…why now?”

“I wanted to keep it hidden and give it to you on our anniversary.”

“Then you should have kept it hidden and given it to me later.”

“No! I know you. You would keep thinking about the perfume on me.” He watched me closely as I unwrapped the package to reveal the exquisite bottle of perfume inside.

“The perfume store is right next to the hotel where we had the conference, so I took the opportunity to buy it today.” He smiled. I was smiling too. Not everything is spoken and words cannot convey everything either. 

I guess the beauty of a relationship is sometimes in knowing the other person better than they may know themselves. 

Feelings are somewhat like perfume, you don’t see them, and you can’t touch them, but only feel their presence and enjoy it while it lasts. 

First published on Bonobology.com. https://www.bonobology.com/marriage/the-married-couple/593-the-scent-of-love-and-the-beauty-of-a-relationship

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

Adventures of the New Sofa!

Any new object in the house is a cause of excitement for the kids too, just that they cannot silently admire it and feel happy, they have to touch it, feel it, taste it and even sometimes destroy it in the process to fully enjoy it. Also, greater the need of the parent to keep it away from children, the greater is their need to have it too. Unless it is something small, which can be hidden away, it is at the mercy of the kids.

Even before buying the new two-seater sofa I knew it. I knew that the kids would surely jump on it, they would be attracted to it like moths to fire. We purposely choose a dark purple instead of my usual choice of beige or another light green that looked gorgeous at the store, keeping this in mind.

As expected, they were happy to see it in the house. On the first day, the kids and I sat on it and enjoyed reading a story. I even imagined it being our new ‘story sofa’, where the kids and I would escape into the world of stories every afternoon. Now, I can only laugh at myself for being so hopeful.

On the second day, I found them racing toy cars on the sofa. Cars climbing over the arm rests to reach the top of the back rest and then coming down the other way. Soon, followed by car crashes and what not. I shook my head and ignored it. This is what you expected, didn’t you? Yes, I did.

After a week, they were both gleefully jumping on the sofa.

“Why are you jumping on the sofa? Is it a bouncy?” I asked.

“Yes, it is a bouncy! Yay! Bouncy….bouncy!” replied my little one while continuing to jump.

Another day, just as I emerged from my room after a shower, the maid called out urgently, ‘Didi, idhar aao’. Our two-and-half-year-old had happily poured water on the new sofa! He looked at me with a guilty look on his face, before running away. I tried to blot out the excess water with newspaper, but the sponge in the sofa had already done a better job. I was surely feeling bad. The sofa was not even two weeks old.

“Sorry Mumma” a small voice said.

“Don’t do it again. Okay? Promise?” I said calmly. A little head nodded in response.

While drying out the seats and part of the back with a hair dryer, I marvelled at the capability of our kids to make us think on our feet, solutions to problems we may never even have to think about without kids around. With the sofa dry and no visibly lasting damage, I felt content, not so much for the sofa but for staying calm throughout and not scolding my kid for this. Maybe I was finally getting better at ‘patience’, the greatest virtue for parenting.

Last Saturday morning, I discovered something scribbled on the arm of sofa with dark blue ink! First water and now pen marks! How? When? Why? Which one of the two did it? I don’t even give them sketch pens to colour with. Later, my five year old admitted that he had found a marker somewhere and wrote on the sofa. I let him go after a ‘calm conversation’ and a promise.

The cushions are still played with, they are more exciting than the blocks, cars and toys and are found strewn across the floor more often than they are seen adorning the sofa.

When it came home, it was a two-seater sofa for watching TV, just a piece of furniture, but the kids have claimed it as their own, attached many memories to it. Hopefully, the excitement will soon be over and the sofa will be spared all the love and attention (read, water and ink) it has been getting over the past weeks. Fingers crossed! Anything can happen with the kids around. 

Mystery of My Missing Husband

I woke up and with one eye still closed picked up my mobile phone to check the time. It was 6:50 AM. I would have probably rolled over and snoozed for ten more minutes had it not been for a Whatsapp message from my husband.

There was just one word, “Boarded”.

Boarded? Really? Where? I don’t remember him telling me about any trip. Did he send the message by mistake? By now my eyes were wide open and mind racing. I vaguely remembered him shaking me in my sleep and telling me that he was leaving. What time was that?  He did not mention anything about where he was going or when he was supposed to return. He must have gone to the gym.

I looked at the message again to check the time. It had been sent at 5:00 AM. I called his number. His phone was switched off. Where did he go?  Unable to believe that he could have flown away to some place I was unaware of, I started searching the rooms for evidence. What should I look for? His shoes? The usual travel bag? Oh! The laptop bag! I looked for it at its usual place. It was not there. Finally, it was confirmed, he had left. But Where?

He travels frequently, although I detest it, I am pretty used to it. But, this was a first. Never in all these years, had he left without telling me where he was going. Even if it was a day trip, I always knew where he was. As I washed my face, I felt the urge to cry. 

How could you forget to tell me about this? You could have told me last night! This is not done. I was already framing the angry sentences in my mind. A tiny voice inside my head smirked, “So, after two kids and 8 years, this is your marriage?” Na, this is just him and it’s a one-time thing.

Really? Was it just him? Or was it me too? Always with the kids or talking about the kids. Did I get so engrossed being a ‘Mom’ that I ceased to be a ‘Wife’? Did we become ‘parents’ and forget how to be a ‘couple’. Did I squeeze my ‘husband’ out of ‘family’? Did I give ‘us’ a fair share of time and attention? Was I really 'listening'?

When was the last time we really ‘talked’ to each other and not discuss the kids? Hmm, I could only remember talking about school, homework, dinner, classes, groceries, weekend activities etc. Somewhat like subsistence communication. Just getting things done and moving on, one day at a time. Well, that’s how real life is mostly. Maybe? 

I don't know the answers yet, but hopefully I am looking at the right places.

Do share your thoughts and experiences in the comments section.

P.S. Just in case you are wondering...he had gone for a short work trip which he had told me about weeks in advance (but wasn't sure of then). While I had forgotten about it completely, he did not mention it even the evening before leaving.