Y On Earth Not

And Here Comes The Book - Just Married, Please Excuse!

2012-01-25T01:10:00.000-08:00

Just a quick update, then.

After the loooongest wait, the most exciting thing ever for me ( oh yeah, the first pregnancy and then the twins aside, blah blah blah) is about to happen very shortly.

In April, my Book comes out.

Yes, sir. While I've been reasonably silent about it in the last few months because it was just SO far away, the time has come!

After much debating and voting on Facebook on the name, I had finally selected a couple of options - which the darling Chief Editor at Harper Collins vetoed, and I bow to her (significantly) higher wisdom in such matters.

Be prepared thus, to buy multiple copies of a rather amusing read ( so I've been told by some very few people who have read it so far) called: (Drum roll, please)

Just Married, Please Excuse!

By Yashodhara Lal Sharma.

You will be hearing a lot more about it shortly. In the meantime, your congratulations and good wishes are very much welcome in Comments. And this time, I promise to reply :-)

Go on and sing out if you're looking forward to a book-sized doze of me.

And to my esteemed blogger-turned-author friends, Parul and Kiran - I shall be leaning on you for plenty of advice!

To the rest of you - I will be leaning on you to buy several copies ( each, of course). If you've enjoyed the writing for the last few weeks, months, years on the blog - now's your chance to do me some good.

And oh, the lurkers ( and I KNOW there are lots of you, Statcounter tells me everyday) - your chance to say 'Hello and Good Luck' now. Go on, don't be shy.

Bharatpur Day 2

2012-01-16T01:41:00.001-08:00

I can't believe I haven't found time to complete the Bharatpur story. Therefore, quick attempt. This will be, unlike the previous post, just notes on the highlights.

Highlights, therefore:

1. We went cycling the next day in the Keola dev national park and my bottom hurt for a week or so after that. The landmark here is that this is the first post that mentions my bottom. It's a strange feeling. Moving along, quickly, the cycling was the BEST fun. This was in spite of the fact that there were no ladies cycles available and I had to ride a man's cycle which was too big for me and was in serious danger of hurting me and ensuring that I would not be able to bear a fourth child .... Hey...first post that mentions my...never mind. Vijay taught me how to ride properly, dismount (without hurting myself) and to pedal with maximum output and least effort. Useful two hours. And we saw some birds too.

2. Vijay was insistent that the rickshaw driver I had given a big tip to the day before would be lying somewhere drunk in a ditch - my heart leapt for joy when we spotted him at the end of our cycling trip - he had been anxiously looking out for us 'Un log ko aaj kaun andar le gaye'? He was mollified to note that we had taken ourselves in on bicycles; and I haughtily told Vijay he must have more faith in people since the man was talking to us and clearly NOT lying drunk in a ditch somewhere.

3. Vijay converted himself from a scoffer-of-my-mother's-many-cameras into a Canon-toting-shutterbug, who developed a fascination for photography and took some really lovely shots of some birds including me...i mean, and also me... which I have put up on Facebook in case any of you are interested.

4. I got to pat a stray black puppy and try out my newly cultivated American accent, just for a lark. Both activities drove Vijay crazy, as a dog-hater as well as a 'angrez-log' hater. Well, he doesn't hate either, he just doesn't like them much. I later subjected him to my American accent while we were driving back to Delhi and to his credit, he did not actually carry out his threat of throwing me out of the car.

5. We ate too much in the Bagh's wonderful restaurant and basked in the sun after every meal. The Moong-dal-ka-halwa was to die for. I died for it. And became a little fatter, I'm sure. Heavenly, heavenly meals. I told myself that the cycling had ensured that I could take the extra calories. It's okay to lie to yourself while on Holiday. In fact, it is a pre-requisite to enjoyment.

6. Vijay continued to fluster and annoy people, even the lovely staff at the restaurant - the nice waiter said 'how many cubes sugar, sir', only to be spontaneously told 'Mujhe to der cube ( or however you write the hindi word for one-and-a-half) chahiye'. The man hovered uncertainly until Vijay assured him that just one cube would do.

We had to rush back one day earlier because the kids were apparently inconsolable without me at night - and in short, ended up only staying for two days instead of three. We managed to squeeze in a place called Deeg, which was nice but not faaantastic, you know what I mean? Will try and write a bit more about that later. Dammit, it's been so long that I've lost my notes on the trip. Must not let so much time pass before posting again.

But overall- it was the best, best trip possible and our annual holiday was an unqualified success, even though it was very short.

Highly recommended, Bharatpur.

To Bharatpur and Back Again

2011-12-19T07:40:00.001-08:00

It’s time of the year when one’s leaves are about to expire. Strangely, I had taken absolutely no leave this entire year, and therefore was forced to reluctantly part ways with the Office for a period of two weeks from the 16^th of December until the New Year.

The plan is to sit at home and sort out a few things and spend some time with the kids. But to kick things off, it was time for Vijay and Y’s mini-break. The last one was when we went to Jaipur over a weekend to attend a friend’s wedding. This time, I was just not getting time to plan things and my mother and sister were goading me towards this. They took to messaging me every day for the last week or so as to whether I had figured out yet where we were going. After I’d said no a few times, my sister said ‘Why don’t you just go and stay at the Leela Hotel in Chanakyapuri and leave the kids at mom’s place?’

Sarcasm.

I tried researching for a while, asked around, couldn’t decide and finally gave it all up to higher powers.

‘Ma’ I wailed desperately on the phone ‘Please help!’

‘Sure, I’ll do it’. My mother’s impressive organizational skills all kicked into action and after several SMS and email exchanges, I figured that Bharatpur sounded like the best of the available options.

‘It’s a Bird sanctuary’ I told Vijay ‘The nice thing is we’ll be able to go cycling’

‘Sure’ he said, poring over his presentation ‘Whatever you say, Honey’.

And so the booking was done.

The day before we were to leave, my friend Shome took us over to see his new place for a quick drink. He asked what plans for the weekend and I told him. ‘Oh Bharatpur, it’s quite nice’ he said.

We then looked over at Vijay, whose hand had frozen on the way while transporting his whiskey to his mouth.

‘We’re going to a BIRD sanctuary?’ he said, looking completely appalled ‘And we’re going to CYCLE? What kind of holiday is THAT!?’

I looked daggers at him and Shome took a sip of his own whiskey, looking unnaturally pleased as he said ‘Oh dear, oh dear’.

Anyway, it was settled that we would be going. The minor matter of packing occurred to us only the next morning, and we were an hour late setting out. As usual, we took far more stuff than we would end up using.

‘What’s THIS?’ Vijay held out a black bag.

‘Oh, Mother has sent her video camera, and the Sony Cybershot’.

‘I see’ said Vijay, eyeing the bag distrustfully ‘What’s wrong with our camera?’

‘Our camera sucks’ I said plaintively ‘I’ve been saying let’s buy a new camera, but you…’

‘Okay, okay’ he said ‘What’s THIS, then?’ He pointed to another larger bag.

‘Oh’ I said in a smaller voice ‘Mother has sent her Canon also. She said it’s a bit complex because of the multiple lenses, but there’s a manual in there that you can study. She also said we should pick up the Binoculars from Bua…’

‘Uh Huh’ said Vijay, half-amused, half-exasperated as he picked up all the various bags I had laid out. We said goodbye to various crying children and left.

It had been decided that it was time for the two of us to get some alone time, away from the kids. This is never an easy thing, especially for me. Or the kids. Vijay has travelled several times in the last couple of years, but I’ve not done anything more than a day trip. Nighttimes are especially rough because I’m still feeding. But then, we figured, we needed a break, and my sister Gitanjali had promised to come home and hold fort.

Therefore it was off to Bharatpur that we went.

We drove out later than planned, but in unusually good moods nevertheless. When Vijay and I were younger and in Bangalore and a carefree childless couple, we would often just bung ourselves into our car and drive off to some nearby weekend destination. There were so many places around Bangalore, and these little trips were what made life worth living in those days.

This trip now reminded me of those earlier trips, with Vijay being the driver, refusing to let me drive even a bit – and me being the navigator – in those days struggling with the Eicher Maps, and now struggling with the Google Maps on Vijay’s iPhone. After a while, however, I got the hang of it and was completely and thoroughly impressed with the sheer usefulness of this application.

‘Take a right’ I said with supreme confidence staring at Google Maps.

‘Where?’ Vijay looked around ‘There is no right turn here at all!’

‘Don’t argue with Google Maps’ I barked.

Thanks to my blind trust in Google Maps, we soon found ourselves on a highway called the KMP Expressway, which turned out to be an ambitious project currently under construction. Every few minutes, we thought we had reached a dead end. But we pressed on regardless and made painful progress.

‘Yeh hamari Innova jab tak lautenge, Maruti 800 ban gayi hogi’ Vijay grimaced as he revved up the engine to negotiate yet another muddy hill.

‘It’s an adventure!’ I said happily and chimed in my most nasal voice ‘Picture Time’ and took a snap of him.

He was worried ‘You don’t know anything about cars..saare funde gol hain…iss car ki to four wheel drive bhi nahin hai’.

‘Aha’ I sang ‘Now I know you’re lying…the Innova has four wheels. I’ve counted’. I whipped out my camera again and chimed ‘Picture time’.

‘Ignorance really is bliss’ He grumbled. Then he saw my downcast face and said in his most nasal voice to cheer me up ‘Picture Time’. It worked. I beamed at him and continued to take pictures of the flora, fauna and him.

Finally, the road sorted itself out and we eventually made our way to Bharatpur. We were staying at a beautiful resort called The Bagh. I asked when we reached, rather stupidly whether they had a garden for us to see. They assured us that they did, and the kind and courteous staff escorted us to our room and our mini-break began.

And what a mini break it was. I can’t remember a nicer holiday.

Day one, we had reached in the afternoon around one p.m. We had a sumptuous lunch. Vijay pretended to think a lot and finally ordered Gobi Paranthas and Alu-Gobi, while I had an entire Butter Chicken to myself. The food was absolutely awesome. We fought off the urge to sleep and went to explore the Keoladeo National Park. I had wanted to go cycling, but settled for the Cycle Rickshaw Ride since we still had the next morning to do the Cycle thing.

Phool Singh, a scrawny old man was our chosen rickshaw puller, and Vijay kept asking him all sorts of personal questions, interrupting him while he tried to tell us about and show us the various birds on offer. The park was really beautiful and despite my lack of interest in anything beginning with Ornith-, I found myself curious to see what Phool Singh was really on about – he and Vijay seemed to be able to see all the birds while I was blinking around shortsightedly. Finally, I buried my vanity and dug out my glasses and put them on and peered through them. Vijay cackled in amusement and then quickly turned it into a cough.

Phool Singh, Vijay extracted, had five children, all girls. Vijay chastised him for his life choices and went on to check whether he planned to make sure of all of them got a good education, and even asked him how often he drank – going as far as to ask which particular type of alcohol including brand and quantity he chose to drink. Phool Singh said he drank merely once a week, Aristocrat Whiskey.

The birds were truly lovely and even Vijay started to take an interest in them after a while. Phool Singh demonstrated how many different languages he could name the birds in, given the number of foreign tourists who came by, and the fact he had been here from 1996.

‘Parakeet’ pointed Phool Singh ‘Isse German mein Paragon kehte hai…aur Israeli log to isse Tukki Kehte hai’.

‘Tukki?’ Vijay gasped, looking aghast ‘Unhe bolo dhang se bole!’

When Vijay gets into the mood, he has this habit of saying strange things to people. He went on to do more of the same, when we stopped at the little Temple in the park. The Panditji pointed to the little idol and said ‘Aur yeh Keoladeo National Park…’

Vijay interrupted him excitedly ‘Achha, yeh national park hai?’

Panditji gave him a look and said ‘Keoladeo National Park ka naam inhi se mila hai…yeh hai Keoladeo…’

Vijay wisely ‘Oh’, nodding along.

I wished yet again that Vijay wouldn’t do these sort of things, and at the same time, tried to helplessly stifle my giggles.

The rickshaw-waala Phool Singh was surprised that we returned from the temple so quickly, and suggested that we take a walk around the place as there was some kind of a watchtower and some large stones with engravings commemorating the mass murder of birds by various Viceroys and Lords and those sorts.

We were feeling rather tired and therefore remarkably unenthusiastic at the prospect of climbing watchtowers and exploring things. Phool Singh must have wondered ‘Yeh kaisi Party aa gayi’, but out loud he simply continued to expound on the history of the place.

‘Yahan pe Lord Landslow ka record hai…unhone yahan pe 4,317 birds to ek din mein maara’

Vijay pointed at the ground where he was standing ‘Yahan? Issi jagah?’ with the same undue excitement he had shown the priest a while earlier.

‘Nahin sir, poore park mein’ said Phool Singh.

Vijay clearly didn’t believe him and went closer to examine the engraving. 4,317 Bag…Yeh bag kya hota hai?’

‘Bag maane sir, kitne chidiya maare unhone’.

Vijay was quite impressed now, and stood there reading the other records. A man passed by him and asked someone else loudly ‘Yeh Bag kya hota hai’.

Vijay continued muttering, but only I could hear him say ‘Bag maane sir, aapka basta’.

We finally convinced Phool Singh to take us back. It didn’t take all that much convincing given that it was almost sunset. We were looking forward to our massages, which we had decided to indulge in during the evening.

The ride back, Vijay continued to extract Phool Singh’s life plan from him. My stomach churned when he said he needed to save up for motorcycles for dowry and managed an LIC plan wherein he put in Rs.2,500 every six months towards his daughter’s marriage funds. Our massages didn’t sound so hot to me now. I said to Vijay we must give him a handsome payment for the ride. Vijay remarked that in his line of work – he works in rural marketing – if I ever accompanied him on a trip, I would likely come back a pauper myself. Never mind, I said.

He will only spend it on more drink, said Vijay.

He won’t. I was convinced. He will put it in LIC.

Vijay rolled his eyes but didn’t try to argue when I finally gave him the amount I thought would make a dent to his next LIC instalment. Vijay told him several times after that to stop drinking once a week, and make it once a month.

We headed back to a nice relaxed hour in our room, ordering two cups of tea. Afterwards, we went for the most lovely Ayurvedic Massages, Vijay clarifying firmly on the phone beforehand ‘Male to Male and Female to Female, right?’. A quiet dinner in the beautiful restaurant wherein I declared that I had finally decided that my most favorite sweet is the Moong Dal Halwa – the melt in the mouth types, leave-you-begging- for- more- even- though- your- stomach- is –begging-you-to-stop-eating-types.

I couldn’t have asked for a more amazing first day on my mini-break with my husband. We went out for a walk in the beautiful garden. It was a dark moonless night, and Vijay asked me to look up.

A sky full of stars. My childhood obsession, which I hardly ever get to see living in Gurgaon.

Just when I had thought this day couldn’t possibly get any better.

( Coming up at some point of time: Day 2 description!)

Goodbye November, Good Riddance. Hello, December. Lookin' Good...

2011-12-10T08:30:00.001-08:00

This year has been busy and fairly stressful, but nothing beat the month of November.

The entire month, my little maid was out and we didn't know if she was coming back. Was she going to get married at her village? Was she going to decide she just couldn't take any more of the twins' capers?

So we went ahead and put them in daycare. And it didn't work for us. No sirree, not one bit.

I'm sure Daycare is the life-saver for many, many mothers - I know many of these working moms myself. But in our case, the twins just kept getting infections, infecting each other, and eventually ended up going only about 12 days of the entire month.

The worst part for me was how they cried every one of those 12 days that they were being dropped off. Of course, the fact is that they didn't get enough time to really settle in, what with all the breaks, but still. Actually, I must correct myself - their crying was still okay, because I knew that within a few minutes they would be alright. What was actually the worst part was how everytime I picked them up - they were sitting around quietly playing, looking morose and subdued and with this wondering expression that clearly said 'Where the hell are my folks?'

Anyway - now the good news. My maid came back! And I'm hoping she stays with us for a while, because it is only now that I fully realize how much we need her.

This is a seventeen year old girl called Rinki, small and slight but with luxurious long thick hair, which appears to be her one vanity. She was very quiet and shy to begin with and didn't speak any Hindi a year back when she walked in - but is now a bright and happy chatterbox - who despite being a bit hot-tempered and prone to mood swings, is very very fond of the children and generally speaking, takes great care of them, playing with them and managing them with the energy that a seventeen year old posseses - and that the actual mother of twins who will in a few years be (gasp) twice that age definitely does not.

Of course, we also have help in the good ol' trustworthy K, who with all her faults, continues to be the biggest blessing in disguise - between Rinki and the K, and some other part time help ( yes, we have a lot of help, and by God, do we need it!) - we pretty much get by.

December, kicking off with Vijay's birthday and chugging along smoothly, seems to be overall a far better month than November. I am kind of looking forward to 2012 though. Lots of excitement coming up for more than one reason, including (Yay!) possibly, potentially, probably even the book, slated for April as of now - but we'll see about that.

In the meantime though, since we're all about living in the moment, we just got back after watching the Lunar Eclipse tonight. Pretty it was, and I realized only after a few minutes that I was seeing double, squinting up through my shortsighted eyes. Once my glasses were at hand, I saw the very pretty sight of the moon being gobbled up by our shadow, and had an interesting discussion around the dining table on astronomy, physics, philosophy and life in the womb ( don't even bother asking) with Vijay and his father.

Net-net, life goes on.

Know what I mean?

Next up: in the month of January, the K decides to leave for her village for a break. DAMMIT.

Ooh aah my aching back!

2011-11-09T08:15:00.000-08:00

Sorry, that's just like top of mind right now for me. Slept all wrong last night, twisted into various pretzel like shapes, trying to feed Pickle and prevent him from waking up and playing at 4 a.m. It worked. He slept well. Not so much Vijay and me.

I was under the impression that I was really stretched beyond belief for the last few months - until my good little maid who takes care of the twins decided to leave us. Panic not. She claims she will be back in December.

December has never seemed so far away in my three decades on this planet.

After carefully evaluating my options, including quitting my job, Vijay and I decided we would put the twins in day care. Luckily, there is a day care right next door and my friend Vani was reasonably satisfied with her experience there, and so for the last few days the Twins have been dropped off there, much to their resentment, confusion and obvious chagrin. I tried to fool them into being in a good mood at drop off time by giving them their favorite fruit - grapes.

Papad threw his grape at me while bawling in anger and frustration as the Day Care lady carried him away from me yesterday.

It is not nice to have your baby throwing grapes at you. Not when he's making that face anyway, the one that suggests 'Wait till you're an old lady and I put you in a nursing home'.

Sigh. The parenting gig continues to be tough.

Haan, so anyway, where was I? Oh yes. So yes, it's a tough-ish month, this November. But it's actually kind of cool because it's basically very intense times at work and then it's really intense time at home with several children crawling all over me. It's fun chasing them around and feeding them. Vijay continues to proudly proclaim, while gazing at them running about the park with a couple of other kids, ''I have fathered most of the children in this park''. Only a bit shady.

So the other thing that's been going on is a fair degree of visits to the doctor. The two I would like to mention here are:

* Peanut's Tooth Doctor - since she was terribly frightened of dentists, we took her to this 'Tooth Doctor' who specializes in kid's teeth - and he has taken care of 8 cavities - yes 8, we are horrible parents - over the course of about six weeks. Almost every Saturday, Vijay and I would be holding down Peanut at this hapless chappie's clinic. He also got bitten badly once by her. I felt quite sorry for him and very mortified. Only a little funny.

* Paediatrician Lady - This woman is absolutely brilliant. Have you ever seen House? I used to love House because of the way his mind works to solve complex cases for his patients. Our Paediatrician Lady is like a female Indian House. She's practised in the U.S and she has a totally different style from most doctors here - meaning, she actually thinks aloud and tells you everything that's going through her head. I so enjoy telling her the detailed symptoms and watching her piece it all together.

'Did he' she will say with a frown 'By any chance cry loudly for a brief few seconds two nights ago?'

I rack my brain and remember and say 'Oh yes, he did, at about one a.m.'

'Aha!' She will say in triumph 'I thought so. He's ruptured his eardrum. I could tell from the color of the secretions'

I faint at the thought, until she shakes me awake and tells me it's a fairly normal thing and so on. I gaze at her admiringly, thinking about how I should have listened to my Father and become a doctor myself. Female House. Sigh.

Right. Enough Ramblings. Time for sleepings. Goodnightings.

And do let me know - how is November looking for YOU?

You free to babysit?

Detoxification: Saturday Morning

2011-10-07T22:33:00.000-07:00

* Sleep in despite the twins being up bright and early. Simply transfer them outside the bedroom to play with the other adults in the house.

* Awoken by Peanut who is insisting it is 'School today, ma'am told me!' - calling school to discover that she is actually right. Packing her off in a record seven minutes to catch the bus.

* Yoga routine, broken only by the twins plonking down on my stomach every few minutes. Bharat Thakur's Yoga for Flat Abs. Yeah, right. Oh well, we can try.

* Vani appears at the door, huffing and puffing and looking like a ripe tomato. She has been out jogging and claims she is going to die. She mentions she is planning to buy an iPad. I try to dissuade her, especially when I discover it is because she is unable to download iTunes on her laptop. She is not dissuaded. She has a bad sinus condition and a headache.

'Wasn't it Virginia Woolf?'

'What?' I ask politely

She is in a dark mood 'Who died because of migraine or something?'

I answer in all honesty 'I don't know'. Haven't the faintest.

'Yes' She says 'It was. She imagined a dark creature entering her head all the time. And then she walked into water and committed suicide'.

'Oh' I am a little worried 'Are you seeing dark creatures entering your head?'

'NO' She snaps as she heaves herself up and heads to the door. She mutters darkly as she exits 'But I am thinking of moving to a place where there is some water to walk into'.

I contemplate this for a bit and get back to my Yoga.

* Using dilapidated old digital camera to capture Vijay dancing with his twin sons. Resolving to buy new camera. Sometime.

* Applying an Orange Facial Mask. Little bit of pampering of self. Little Papad eyes me strangely and tries to pull it off. I hastily wash it off.

* Lazily considering going to Spencer's to buy various foodstuffs. Vijay disappears for half an hour and reappears with the good things in life. Soon we are eating Breakfast of varied items such as Upma, Toast with Cheese Spread, Quaker Oats with Raisins, Walnuts, Dates and so on. I am thankful for my several minutes of Yoga, and figure this meal is well-deserved.

* Having fun clowning around with Vijay. Mention that Vani is going to buy an iPad and suggest to him that he download iTunes on it for her and therefore get to play with it.

'Oh yes. I can probably tell her it takes about a year to download...and then maybe tell her that there's a new version of iTunes which doesn't work on the old iPad and that she should buy a new one...or maybe suggest to her that the Black one she's bought doesn't work as well as the White one and that she should buy a new one and give the old one to me'.

'Yeah right' I giggle 'She'll buy all that'.

Vijay points out, his favorite trump card 'She said we can't see the Sun rise around Bombay, because it's in the west and the sun rises in the East, remember?'

I am silenced.

* A little Blogging, and change of template. Because Change Can be Good.

* Conclusion of the day: Saturdays should be off.

My Daddy, My Hero. For Peanut. Apparently.

2011-09-29T08:10:00.000-07:00

I read a notice yesterday in Peanut's diary from school that said she had to dress up as a family member who inspires her, and that she had chosen her Father.

I was a little hurt, but asked nonchalantly 'Peanut, why didn't you want to dress up as Mama?'

She thought about this for a minute before she answered, and as she spoke, her agitation became clear 'Mama! How can I dress up as you and Daddy both? I am only ONE child', she said, holding out one finger at me to make her point.

I hastened to clarify 'No, Peanut. I meant...why did you choose Daddy and NOT Mama?'

'Oh' She said, dismissively 'Because you always scold me and Daddy doesn't scold me'.

I felt very bad about this but decided not to pursue the matter further. It's true that I've been scolding her of late. Even though things have improved drastically in the last month, the child ungratefully refuses to pick up on it. No matter, I think, and I browse the diary further. 'Oh it says you have to choose a dialogue...one thing that Daddy says a lot. What will you say?'

Pat came the answer ' Peanut, eat your food right now or you will get a smack-y!'

Oh Dear, Dear.

Eventually, the line she chose was ' Peanut, give me a huggy and a kissy. I'm going to Bombay'. But she also chose an extra line 'Peanut, don't sulk and fuss, just eat your food now'. She seems hell-bent on making her point about the food issue.

She wanted to wear Vijay's T-shirt, but he convinced her that dressing 'like him' didn't mean dressing in his clothes. She instead wore jeans and a grey boyish T-shirt. I tried to do her hair, sweeping it along her forehead like his, but she took one look at it and refused to go out like that.

I can't believe this child has grown up so much, so quickly.

Two more to go!

And hopefully at least one of the twins will want to dress up like me in about 3 years. Yes, there's always hope!

Till Death Do Us Part, Stupid

2011-09-27T09:17:00.000-07:00

Imagine if you will, a Vijay who is leaving for Bombay for a major presentation. Unlike his usual calm, unruffled self, he has been a little agitated about the presentation, and I have been trying to calm him down.

His flight is at 9.30 a.m. and he knocks on the bathroom door at about 7.30 a.m. as I am bathing along with Peanut. He enters, picks up his shaving kit and then says Bye. I have soap in my eyes, but I want to give him a final parting shot, and decide to make it a joke.

'Don't worry, honey. Just remember...one day we're all going to die! So the presentation doesn't really matter'.

There is a snort of laughter from outside, which almost drowns out the sound of the little gasp from somewhere near my soapy knee.

I look down and see Peanut staring up at me in horror 'Mama! You said we're all going to die!'

I panic, afraid that I have scarred my four year old for life. I had totally forgotten about her.

'No, no, beta. WE are not going to die...it's just that....'

'But you SAID it. You said we're all going to DIE...'

'No, no...what I meant was...see...'

Meanwhile, there is snorting of laughter from outside, this time with a lot more real humor in it.

And THAT, my friends, is bad parenting. Exhibit 17 a. Sigh.

Y Thought For the Day: Smoke Break

2011-09-20T20:45:00.000-07:00

It's interesting to go out for a smoke break with two of the guys at work, even though you don't really smoke.

One of them - let's call him S, is trying to quit and is carrying that cool electronic cigarette that is mint-flavored and blows fake smoke. The other A ( of previous foot-in-mouth fame) is not trying to quit.

Post lunch, I am for some reason carrying some fruit I do not want any more, and ask A to hold it for me. I take a drag from A's cigarette just as two other smoking strangers walk out into the stairwell. They are not used to my presence, but are familiar with the other two.

One of the guys asks S for a light.

S tries to oblige, bending forward to light up the other guys' cigarette, but then realizes that his fake electronic cigarette is not up to the task. It's a bit of a foolish thing to do, but it's funny.

They laugh a bit, and then S indicates that A should light the man's cigarette.

That's when they all look at the fruit item between A's fingers, balanced delicately exactly as if it were a cigarette that he's been nursing.

A sputters and tries to explain as they all look at him askance, and tries to disown the banana.

But it's too late.

Y's Thought For the Day

2011-09-19T10:13:00.000-07:00

It's fun hearing the guys at work describe a poker session they had without you last week; and then asking them sincere questions about it, only spontaneously adding the word 'strip' ahead of the 'poker' ; and then watching them look askance at each other and sputter in righteous indignation about how it was ONLY poker.

Note: I have decided to regale you all with little pearls of Y-dom from now on. I will make up in frequency what I lack in depth. It's kind of like micro-blogging. It's also kind of like laziness. Rejoice!

Unforgivable Boo-boo

2011-09-15T09:14:00.001-07:00

There's a young man in my office. For the sake of anonymity, let's just call him - oh, I don't know, A.

A is a simple young man who sometimes says very dumb things.

Over the lunch table yesterday, we were having a random discussion, and the topic somehow came to how one particular person - (let's call him X, just for variety) - has joined the gym at the Office just to be close to and impress one other gym goer ( let's call her Gamma, for some more variety).

We were all laughing at X for being so obvious about his crush on Gamma, when it came to light that quite a few people have a crush on Gamma, and that she is considered to be what some might term 'Hot Stuff' amongst the males in the Office.

A looks up at this point and says to me 'You think she's hot?'

'Me?' I am surprised that this question is directed at me 'I guess she's kind of pretty, sure'.

A makes a scornful face and says 'I hardly think so. But these guys are desperate to find some goodlooking girl in office. I suppose it's a case of 'Andho mein Kaana Raja'. And...'

He stops when he sees me staring at him.

He starts to explain 'Andho mein Kaana Raja, Y, means that...'

I snap at him 'I KNOW what it means. And you just insulted every girl in the office. Zee!!' I turn to the nearest female member of my team 'Did you hear what he just said? Andho mein Kaana Raaja! He thinks we're all UGLY'

A panics when he sees that several women have stopped chewing their food and gossiping to direct malignant stares at him 'No, NO. That's not what I meant! I mean...you know...' He gives up and gawks helplessly for a while, a pleading look in his eyes.

It is the sort of look that clearly says 'Oh dear Mother Earth, please open up and swallow me now'.

I give him my most dangerous narrow eyed look until he blubbers and comes up with ' What I meant to say was...Andho mein Kaana Raja-S...as in the plural!'

'WHAT?' Zee and me say together. 'What does that even mean'.

'As in' A gains confidence ' YOU guys also fall in that category...so it's not her alone...it's the lot of you, really'.

We are mollified for only about a millionth of a second, until we figure out what has just been said to us.

Cries break out of ...'That's an even BIGGER insult! You're saying that WE are Kaana Rajas?'....'So net-net, only if someone is desperate, they will find us good-looking?'

Someone ( male) pipes in merrily with 'One eyed beauties, eh, A?' while the rest of us carry on haranguing the young man who already looks distinctly older, if not wiser.

I promise A that I will post about this little faux-pas.

I will now go and explain it to him. 'Faux-pas, A, means a little bit of an oopsy...'

The Physicality Of It All

2011-09-09T09:49:00.000-07:00

...days like these when I am just so tired, I'm not really thinking, but just registering the physicality of it all.
The pushing myself up eleven flights of stairs out of sheer habit and the knowledge it's the only exercise I'll get today.
The hot coffee that practically burns my tongue but props me up for the first few hours of the day. The aching muscles in my neck and shoulders, and the exhaustion that creeps in after lunch hour, reminding me again of the fact that I'm sleeping far less than I should be.
And then the dizzy spell that hits me as I'm climbing up the steps to my home towards my kids.
The way that the kids crowd around my legs - the twins insisting upon being carried, an impossible task beyond a few seconds.
I feed them one by one - Pickle bites me viciously and I cry out in pain. He thinks it's funny and breaks into impossibly cute peals of laughter. He bites me again.
And eventually I give up and lie down on the floor in surrender. Peanut takes the opportunity to come and lie down next to me, and starts imitating the twins. Blowing raspberries on my tummy. She thinks it's funny. After about the twentieth time, I'm not laughing, but she doesn't stop. She pokes my belly-button and tells me that I'm 'the best'.
Pickle and Papad take the opportunity to fall on top of me repeatedly, almost banging their heads against each other every few minutes. Despite how tired I am, I try to energize myself with a few floor exercises - leg lifts and some Yoga. The leg lifts, they do not appreciate, and push my legs down whenever I lift them. I turn around to lie flat on my tummy and try the Bhujangasana, but Papad takes great offense to this pose, and starts to pull my hair. He does it so hard that tears come into my eyes, but I'm too tired to actually get up. I try in vain to do a few more exercises, but none of it works.
As they fall on me, twisting their limbs uncaringly, trusting that I will somehow catch them in the nick of time and save them from hitting their heads on the floor -which somehow, with some motherly instinct, I do each time - I can feel their smooth cheeks, their soft hair, and smell their sweet baby breaths.
I watch as they momentarily lose interest in me and climb the sofas, climb the chairs, climb the railings, attempt to electrocute themselves by sticking their fingers into sockets, open cupboards to take out and eat CDs, throw their toys on the floor, fight over balls and bottles, hit each other with their plastic bats, pull each others' hair - while Peanut perches on the dining table like a little Princess and does her drawings. I am still exhausted, lying prone on the floor, and my two maids leap into action, saving the twins from each other and themselves. I thank my lucky stars again that I have such help, but feel really sorry because I realise how tired they must be after a full day of this, and I feel bad that I'm so tired myself that I'm really unable to help out just now. I feel so sick and I wish Vijay wasn't so late coming home today. Two hours have already passed by now, and it's been a crazy, impossible, fun and exhausting two hours with three children.

I wonder how long I'm going to be able to keep this up. Perhaps it's the fact that I am no longer as young as I used to be - after all, I'm in my thirties now. But between work, the children, and lack of sleep, it all feels like it's a little too much and I am very very grateful for the fact that there is a two day weekend coming up. Heavenly. My entire body already aches for the extra sleep that the Saturday and Sunday will bring.

And then the bell rings, interrupting my contemplative reverie. All three children promptly run towards the door and in walks my six feet two Vijay. It is eight p.m. and the two of us stare at each other - he grins at me but I am not amused by his lateness and have no sympathy for his extended meeting. The twins are now crowded around his long legs and he picks up Papad. Pickle does not like this and makes his protests heard until my maid picks him and places him on Vijay's other arm. He stands there like that with his two sons, grinning in pure delight - all three of them have identical smiles on their faces and the sight of my many, many men makes my heart lurch a bit.

And then, Papad gives him a resounding slap on the face, stunning him. Pickle follows suit and Vijay is shouting, and trying to get the two of them to stop, but their new game is amusing them immensely and they repeatedly slap him. Peanut is trying to show him her drawing, unmindful of the fact that he is getting assaulted, and when he is unable to respond to her, she loses her temper herself and starts to pummel at him - unfortunately for him, her height and skinny long arms are positioned for most of these blows to land upon his crotch and he dances around like a giraffe under attack, shouting 'Help, help' as all three children do their best to smack him silly.

I hear a loud, throaty laugh pealing through the room and it takes me a moment to realize that it's me, giggling uncontrollably through all the exhaustion and dizziness at the sight of my husband and children like this. I laugh long and hard for the next few minutes, feeling better and more energized than I have the whole day.

Yes, it's kind of funny when you're not the one being mauled.

Welcome Home, Honey.

A Questionable Exchange

2011-08-27T11:08:00.000-07:00

Vijay: 'So Peanut also has to have a vaccination today, apart from the twins?'

Y: 'Didn't I tell you that already last night?'

Vijay: 'Which one does she have to have?'

Y: 'Arrey, Chickenpox only. It's at four years and one year. What else?'

Vijay: 'What time is the appointment?'

Y: 'Ten forty five. How many times do I have to tell you the same thing?'

Vijay: 'You think she'll actually get the vaccination?'

Y: 'Do we have a choice in the matter?'

Vijay: 'Have you noticed you're being a little snappy?'

Y: 'Have you noticed this entire conversation is in questions?'

Vijay ( tuneless singing) 'Mama is a cheap-o...cheap-o...cheap-o...'

Y (annoyed even more than before) 'What are you doing, Vijay?'

Vijay: 'I'm just breaking out of the questioning mode. (Continues to sing) Mama is a cheap-o...cheap-o...cheap-o....'

And yes, we had quite a day. Chickenpox vaccinations for three small children, and plus the treatment of 2 cavities for young Peanut.

I'm amazed I can spend a Saturday like this and feel so happy about it.

Truly.

Dancing...

2011-08-14T21:10:00.000-07:00

Yeah, we like music.

The Circus They Call My Life

2011-08-14T07:17:00.000-07:00

This evening, one decides to go to the park with the kids. So Vijay, I and our help Rinki valiantly make our way with the three kids.

When we get there, Pickle and Papad decide that the best way to enjoy the park will be in Mama's arms. This is a bit of an issue given that they both now weigh well over 10 kgs each, and I can only hold the two of them up for a couple of minutes before my arms feel like they are going to fall off.

After much persuasion, they decide to grace the grass and potter about happily for a bit. I lie back sprawled on the grass as Vijay looks on, commenting that about half the kids in the park seem to be ours. I decide not to be lazy and get up for a jog. Papad spots me trying to sneak off and runs after me, screaming, worried that I am abandoning him. Pickle joins the fray.

Peanut, who is also looking like a little boy thanks to the haircut she gave herself - yes, my four year old cut her own hair today - is running around me excitedly. It looks impossible that I will be able to get in a jog, but some kids are now trying to fly a kite in the colors of the Indian flag in honor of independence day. The kids are distracted by this, and I whisper to Vijay that I'm just going to be back in exactly five minutes. He is not listening to me because he is most excited about the kite himself. I poke him a bit and get his attention and then make off for a jog of about seven and a half minutes some distance away from the park.

When I come back, the children are splashing about in a puddle. Which is okay except for the fact that they are completely wet from head to toe. It is when they start trying to drink the water that we decide we must draw the line. Vijay sees that Pickle's shirt is wet and so he removes that. When he sees his vest underneath is also wet, he removes that too. My child is therefore running around the park half-naked and other parents are casting disapproving looks at us. We don't care until we see that he appears to be shivering and not just in excitement, and so I ask for Rinki's chunni, wrap him up in it and we all head back home. Sufficient time has passed anyway with little shirtless Pickle and the wet-but-clothed Papad acting like little bullies, together ganging up on other kids older than them in order to steal their toys and generally trying to pick fights.

All three kids are brought back home and we think wet must bathe them. It is clear that it will save time to bung them into a tub together, and so their clothes are quickly removed and all the children are therefore splashing in the water. Vijay and me are responsible for managing them in the bath while Rinki brings out their clothes and towels. By now, my own clothes are completely wet, but it's fun. It would be even more fun if there wasn't the fear of one of them getting water into their lungs, since they seem to feel that they are supposed to drink this water instead of merely bathing in it. Soap is somehow applied and removed, with minimal screaming, and mostly on Peanut's part - Papad and Pickle are reasonably low hassle about these things. Except when it comes time to get out of the tub.

Papad goes first, and makes his protests heard in a deafening manner, wailing constantly while a determined Rinki dresses him. I volunteer Vijay for Pickle - Pickle is the next to start screaming as his father grabs him and gets him out of the tub for some drying. Peanut is the easiest. When she refuses to get out, I simply switch off the light and say 'Hey, the light's gone, you better get out'. She comes out right speedily and it's not going to be too hard to dress her.

At least, it wouldn't be too hard if Pickle and Papad both decide that this is the exact moment in time that they both need me to feed them. They start squirming and struggling and crying even louder and poor hapless Rinki and Vijay can no longer hold them back. I take Pickle with me and try to feed him. He's okay for about two seconds and then he starts to bite me something fierce. I squeal in pain. There is just always so much biting involved when it comes to these two. Every day I come home and lie down on the drawing room floor so that both of them get access to me, and the way they make their affection known is to bite me in all possible places until I'm bruised and begging for them to stop - they leave their sharp little tooth marks all over me, and there's no real way to stop them. And no real reason to, actually, given that I actually love it although it makes me cry sometimes.

Anyway, Pickle is least interested in actually feeding now that he's got me all to himself and he clambers off the bed to go and play with the dustbin. Papad suddenly appears at the door and they fight over the dustbin, pulling at each other's shirts and hair and squealing 'Baiiya-baiiya-baiiya'. That's the only word they really know apart from 'Mama', and the 'Mama' is used to refer to absolutely everything. I watch them, fascinated, thinking for the nth time that I must have done something right sometime to be so lucky as to have twins.

Earlier in the day, I've gone for my guitar class and pretty much taught myself some new songs because the teacher was busy with some band practice. I've also had a nap - such a rare occurrence- and also gone to the parlor. I had to take Peanut there anyway given her disastrous attempt at cutting hair, and also myself enjoyed that form of Chinese torture otherwise known as 'Full Waxing''. With that, the whole day seems to have gone by. It's amazing. Even days when you do so little just absolutely whiz by - I've been sleeping a lot this weekend and could sleep some more. I am clearly convinced that I am not sleeping enough on most weekdays, therefore. This is even when I've rationalized various other ambitious attempts to pack more in - I don't try to write every day, but I plot a little daily and write on weekends. I don't bother practicing my guitar but just go in for the weekly class - mostly it's still fun, except when I'm sulking about how my fingers never seem to move as fast as my teacher's. I don't do a whole lot else apart from focus as much as possible on my work as I can when I'm in the office, and as much as possible on my family when I'm at home. But I do need those intense little breaks of about fifteen minutes that keep me sane.

Like that little stolen moment of guitar-ing that ends with the promise that by next year, I'll actually be playing the most complicated songs and producing the sounds with my fingers that my ear and heart aches for.
Like that few moments of jotting down some ideas for a book that I hope someone will publish sometime despite my being 80,000 words down and only half of the meandering fictional story through.
Like this post that in it's own rambling manner captures what I've been meaning to put down for weeks.

In the meantime. I leave you with a picture of what I leave behind every single morning at about 8.15 a.m. after we've all gone and dropped Peanut to the bus-stop ( someone remarked once 'ek bachhe ke liye itne saare log aate hai, because it's usually Vijay, me, Pickle and Papad who come to drop her. But then that's our circus.)

Anyway, here are my two little monkeys bidding me an unwilling goodbye.

It's not easy to walk away from this, I promise you.

My Boys

2011-07-24T11:01:00.001-07:00

Pickle and Papad at Peanut's little birthday party today. Pickle is wearing the Tinkerbell wings my sister got for Peanut. Yeah right. Some horns and a tail would have been more appropriate.

Err...and please appreciate the brilliant haircuts in the picture above, as opposed to their sloppy hairdos in the pictures below. It may help Vijay forgive me.

Papad is very modest about his hero-like good looks.
Pickle on the other hand thinks when you've got it, flaunt it.

Chocolate time. Ferrero Rocher, anyone?

Some random updates

2011-07-23T04:18:00.000-07:00

* I love being a woman.

...because it means being able to spend a rare Saturday afternoon getting a facial and a pedicure while being able to read snatches of 'Eat Pray Love'.

Did I mention I love being a woman?

* Vijay and Y's Mini-break.

...has consisted of exactly two days away from the three kids for the first time in over a whole year. We went to Jaipur to attend Vijay's old pal's wedding, and I had an interesting time making small talk with the ladies before escaping to drink beer with the men outside!

We then woke up early the next day and went all the way to my favourite Sariska only to find that it was closed except for Tuesdays and Saturdays.

Vijay asked the reserve man in frustration 'Yaha baaki din kya karte hai log-bhaag?'. He meant to ask how the staff earned their keep. But the man just replied coolly 'Waapis chale jaate hai' indicating that we should do the same.

So went to Siliserh and had a fantastic breakfast to drown our sorrows, telling ourselves we would go boating in the lake right after.

'Two teas, Two omletes...and two...no, make it three...okay, just make it four alu paranthas' said Vijay while ordering.

The sleepy looking manager and his sidekick laughed, gently mocking us and saying we would not be able to eat so much and shouldn't order that much at one go. Vijay and I suggested he give us a try. We promised we would pack up the leftovers and take them with us for lunch. They saw no flaw in this logic and agreed.

About fifteen minutes later, the food arrived and Vijay asked for some butter for the paranthas.

'50 grams, sir?' said the waiter and Vijay thought this sounded about right.

About ten minutes later, Vijay ordered another omlete. We hadn't accounted for the fact that each omlete came with two slices of white bread. And still, strangely, when the waiter came to clear the plates, all the food was mysteriously gone.

Vijay and I decided to give the boating a skip. We told each other it was too hot, but really, I think we were afraid the boat might sink with us in it.

Subsequently, we went to Neemrana and worked it all off climbing up and down the very pretty fort. It was terribly hot and muggy weater, but still fun.

And that's it. By about 4.30 p.m., we were home and our three bawling children were deposited upon us by a very glad grandmother, who left in something of a hurry, as she had to pack and go off to England.

*****
Fine! My father in law has gone to the U.S and now my mother to England.

Sigh. I suppose our parents will never know how we feel about them abandoning us to go to the West for the better things in life. Still, we do what we can. We do what we can.

*****

Pickle and Papad are amazing fun. They have started to communicate with each other, saying something that sounds a lot like 'baiya', and of course, they beat each other up and everyone else around them too, with great gusto. They run in opposite directions when we take them to the park and are all over the place all the time. They also kiss each other and we have to separate them because it ends with one of them biting the other. One of these days, I will get around to posting some pictures, she promised.

*****

And...Peanut's birthday is just around the corner. July is that kind of month. First Pickle and Papad's birthday, then their cousin Pikki, then their cousin Adi, then Vijay's sister S. Didi, today My cousin Mini and Vijay's sister R. Didi and in the next few days, Peanut. Whew! Party time!!

*****

I am about 65,000 words into writing something new which looks like it's not even halfway there, but am keeping the effort up in snatches of spare time which are increasingly rare, given how busy work and life in general is. Still, we try. And of course, I have taken these guitar lessons which are possibly quite useless given that I have zero time to practice between classes, but I have great fun jamming with the instructor for that one hour which is supposed to be each week but really ends up being once in two weeks.

****

I was going to tell you a lot more but I see Pickle is up and trying to escape headfirst from crib, therefore...

Two become One!

2011-07-09T09:06:00.000-07:00

...that is to say, some people's twin sons have turned a year old!

And the blog has not been updated with that momentous happening for a whole week. Sacrilege! Oh well, I'll get over it somehow.

Pickle and Papad, the most amazing little men in my life turned a year old last weekend. As is the firm belief that Vijay and I hold, one-year-old's birthday bashes do not make any sense whatsoever since the babies themselves don't know what the heck is happening, and so we said we would do something small, just for the family.

Of course, considering that the family consists of:

*my mother
*Vijay's father
* My sister
* Vijay's two sisters
* The two sister's two husbands
* One of Vijay's nephews in Delhi
* One of my cousins and her husband and two kids
* My Bua and Phoophaji
* Vani, who is honorary family member and her son who by extension is my nephew

...plus the 5 of us and the several maids that keep floating about, it was a full house ( it's twenty three people, in case you're wondering about the grand total) . To say the least.

It was the warmest, brightest, nicest little Birthday party for the two little boys wearing new clothes and looking all grown up. Babies turning Toddlers. The previous day, I had gone shopping. I hadn't been in a nice mood when I went into the store, with lots of stuff going on, and with shopping not being my most favorite activity, but when I got into the swing of it, I enjoyed myself like crazy. I bought three sets of toys for them, skates and a board game and an umbrella for Peanut, little return gifts for the few little kids who were attending, and party paraphernalia like balloons, streamers, party hats, paper plates and Dora glasses for my little girl, who ended up enjoying the party most.

My sister did the honors with the cake - or rather, two cakes from Maxims - lovely chocolate stuff, and Pickle and Papad stood at the ready with little plastic knifes, each wearing identical T-shirts that said 'Mummy's little Man' and gazing with curious fascination at the colorful candle that proclaimed them One Years Old, with various little sisters and a highly pleased Mama to help them cut their cakes simultaneously. I can't imagine a more perfect birthday. Where are the pics, people? I didn't take any, but there were various flashes of light.

Vijay's sisters did a little Pooja for them, and S Didi had even got tiny garlands made up of roses for them, and my little babies looked so incredibly adorable wearing them. Yeah, yeah, I know I'm gushing, but what the heck.

All day, memories of that fateful Saturday exactly one year ago kept floating into my head. 8.30 in the morning, staring at the blood in the bathroom. Rushing to the hospital. Emergency C-section. And all the other stuff that followed. And now, the most important thing was that the two little men are fine, strapping young toddlers already.

Pickle and Papad are the most amazing phenomenon for me. I may have loosely mentioned that I had a little obsession with the concept of twins. Is this common? I loved the Twins at St. Clare's series, and the Sweet Valley Twins series. I once ended up reading a highly inappropriate and somewhat disturbing novel called Twins at too early an age ( do not read it, please). I remember arbitly doing research on it years ago, and have been particularly interested in the connection that twins have with each other, the differences between identical and fraternal twins, and so on and so forth. I always secretly wanted a twin myself, but never ever thought I would be lucky enough to conceive, carry, deliver and raise beautiful twin sons myself.

At work, I joked the other day that I love A/B testing so much that I had twins just to carry out A/B testing with them throughout my life. But it's true. When you have identical twin sons, it's easy to figure out certain things. Such as, when parents say they love their kids equally, it isn't really true. There's a bit of a bias always. Mine is for one of the twins, and I will not disclose it for fear that the other one will one day read this and make my life hell. Hint, though - his name begins with P.

But in short, we have successfully crossed yet another important milestone. Here's to many more Happy Birthdays to the glorious phenomena that we so inanely refer to as

... Mister Pickle and Mister Papad.

Restringing

2011-07-01T09:28:00.000-07:00

I had been planning to restring
my guitar for a while.
But I had just let it lie.
And then when I tried to play it today,
The E string broke.
The most important string.
It had been over two years since I'd changed my strings.
Which just goes to show how much I'd been playing.
I didn't even know if I could do it myself anymore.
I thought of calling in the expert.
But then I thought I'd give it a go myself.
So I dug out some new strings.
Also pretty old now, but at least still in their wrappers.
And tried to replace the E-string.
First, I wound it the wrong way.
Replaced it, struggled. Nearly poked my own eye out.
Managed to get it in place.
And then tried to tune it.
It snapped. Suddenly.
Frustration.
I almost gave up.
And then I picked out another one.
And tried again.
More carefully this time.
And then when I tried to tune it.
It kept slipping.
Back into a lower octave.
There was still something wrong.
But then suddenly, it was in tune with the rest of the strings.
The most perfect sound emanated from it.
Relief. Happiness.
Even though I knew it could still slip.
For the time being, it worked.
One down. Five more to go.
It would need constant retuning.
But I could do this.

I was just restringing my guitar.
Hmmm.
If I was the poetic type, I might say
It felt like I was restringing my life.
But since I'm not.
I won't.

Biting off more than I can chew

2011-06-16T11:30:00.000-07:00

To top it all off, I am now toying with the idea of guitar lessons to revive a long forgotten passion. Wanting to read more, write more, play more, work more, and above all spend more time with family.

I've always liked Alanis.

'I recommend biting off more than you can chew to anyone. I certainly do'.

You live...You learn...

Except, sometimes, you may not, and that's okay too.

How do you do it, Yaar?

2011-06-10T08:31:00.000-07:00

A couple of days back, Vani came home to visit me.

It so happened that Vijay was late, and our maid Rinki (who is a young girl that helps with the twins) had gone out for an hour to see her father. Thus it was the K and me, and three kiddies.

For the first few minutes of Vani's visit, she looked at me sitting there on the floor with all three babies clambering over me, and said repeatedly 'I don't know how you do it, yaar! I have one and I go mad sometimes. Look at you with three of them'.

'Oh it's nothing' I said modestly, adding 'I have a lot of help, you know. Rinki has just gone out for a bit. Least I can do is take care of them myself for a little while'. K was in the kitchen making Maggi for Peanut, so I sat there like a hero with the lot of them, glowing like some sort of cross between Superwoman and Mother India.

Peanut was lying with her head on my lap. Just then, Papad stepped on her ear and she suddenly screamed in pain. Papad, startled out of his little baby wits, tripped over my leg and fell down and screamed even louder than her. While attempting to reach out and grab him, I kind of knocked Pickle down and the combination of this rude behavior and all the screaming, set Pickle screaming even louder than his brother and sister. I didn't know who to comfort and almost set the record on screaming, while Vani looked less impressed than before, and a lot more worried and picked up one or two of them off me. I think I ended up hugging Pickle, more to comfort myself than him. The K also re-entered the room and finally some semblance of peace and sanity reigned once more.

Rinki returned in a bit to find a very sullen looking crowd and it was all I could do from hugging her.

Indeed. How do I do it, Yaar?

Seriously. I'm asking you. HOW DO I DO IT?

*Deep Calming Breaths*

'Tis the season to be Taggy...

2011-05-30T09:08:00.001-07:00

Apparently, I'm a Versatile Blogger, according to the lovely Sue. Although she seems to have awarded me for my versatility in life rather than on my blog.

It seems I need to list some random facts about myself as a recipient of this award. Okay, just off the top of my head:

* Am supremely happy about having snorkelled over the Great Barrier Reef with my cousin Mini.
* I used to play guitar once upon a time. I have started again four days back and my fingers hurt. The twins don't let me play much though, and Peanut makes me play Mmm-bop for her repeatedly. This is embarassing!
* I have a bit of a temper. Okay, a lot of a temper. But I'm mellowing as the years pass (hahahahahaha!)
* I like Robbie Williams. Don't judge me.
* Apparently, I like to take perfectly innocent tags and use them to confess random things, even though I started out fairly strong with some cool snorkelling story.

Sigh!

Also, I realized I'm not tagging anybody with this post and the last. So sorry, but I feel too out of it and will probably end up tagging someone who's just been tagged. Double sigh!

But thanks Sue...appreciate it :-)

P.S - one more random fact - I abhor smileys but use them liberally myself.
P.P.S - oooh, I've got another. I am 50% Punjabi, 25% Bengali and 25% Nepali. Vijay is 100% Rajasthani. That makes Pickle, Papad and Peanut an interesting mix. I would like to see what their kids turn out!

What mommyhood taught me...Tag

2011-05-29T09:05:00.000-07:00

I feel very ill equipped to write this, but since it's Dipali who's tagged me, how can I not?

The reason I feel ill equipped is because I feel so certain that I am still learning. The funny thing is, a year ago, I thought I was pretty certain about what being a mother means, but then several things happened in quick succession

* I gave birth to identical twin boys
* My little Peanut became a 3 year old teenager
* I underwent two surgeries within a span of two weeks, and the worst possible health condition I've ever been in.

So basically, everything I had learnt thus far went for a toss.

But anyway, 5 things I can safely say I've learnt by being a mommy -

a. I am not the center of the universe. Not even close. The kids, all three of them, matter much more than me. I don't think I've ever been this unselfish.
b. I am the center of the universe. For them. No one else has that kind of effect on them. To be able to comfort them. It's magical. I've never felt more important.
c. My husband takes on a whole new dimension of attractiveness by how he behaves as a father. It is indescribable.
d. Your friends or cousins will never understand what it's like. Until they have their own. And that's okay, because you never understood before it happened, either.
e. Mum was probably actually right when she said she didn't love my brother or sister more than me just because they were older and younger. I know. I have three of my own now. Although technically, there is no middle child in my case, but still, Pickle is a minute older than Papad. Anyway. I guess that's just not how love works. There isn't a limited supply to be divided between people. There's plenty of it to go all around.

Photographs by Marta

2011-05-28T10:17:00.000-07:00

Just a few sample pictures that my Spanish neighbour, Marta did up for me. She's created an absolutely gorgeous album, with high quality pictures on some special high quality paper.

She's starting out her career in India as a professional photographer, and the lady has some style. So if you're interested in getting some family pics and you happen to live in Gurgaon/Delhi, go ahead and email her at apna.moments@gmail.com.

Disclaimer

2011-05-19T09:34:00.000-07:00

I've said it before and I'll say it again. I know sometimes it sounds like I am doing a lot and packing in many, many things in a day.

But it's actually at the cost of sleep and sometimes food and often exercise. And then there are days like this one today where I really feel like it's all coming at me from all sides.

So yes, basically what I'm saying is I don't think I would call myself an inspiration for anyone! So neither should you guys.

But I do love you for it.

Edited to add:

I just hugged Peanut and asked her solemnly 'Can I tell you something?'
She said 'Ya'
I said 'Life is full of problems. But you must always smile and know that you are very lucky to be you'.
She said 'Ya'.
I said 'Did you understand?'
She said 'Ya'.
I said 'So what did you understand?'
She said as solemnly as I did ' Sometimes in your whole life, the earth is the moon and it takes your house away. Because we are on the Earth and also in India, and the Earth is under India and so your house goes and then in the English we call the earth the moon and sing 'the house on the earth goes life, life, life'.
I am dumbfounded for a second and then nod slowly. And say 'Exactly'.

Thank God for my many, many children.

Attempting to Write

2011-05-18T10:21:00.000-07:00

I have found it is a very, very different thing to write something while you're on maternity leave for months on end; and try to write something while you're handling a full time job and three babies.

I don't think I've written very much about the process of writing, so I thought I'd just start capturing it a bit.

To begin with, let's not get overly excited -the publishing of my first book is still far away - many months in fact, early next year is mostly likely. That's okay with me. I'm in no hurry at all. Just the fact that someone thinks it's good enough to print has got me started writing on a reasonably regular basis in the little spare time that I have.

About the book -it's going to be a book largely based on the funny side of marriage. As you may know, there are plenty of funny stories that I have on this subject. However, it wasn't as easy to write as it may sound. The first attempt I made, despite the good advice of my friend Parul, was very series-of-incidents loosely bound together in chronological order. I kind of fancied it a very Gerald Durrell or James Herriot style of writing, but it didn't really fly with the big publishers. I had to eventually change it around a lot into a story-type format, the more conventional 'commercial fiction' category as I later discovered this is called.

One of the smaller publishing houses, however,had caught hold of it in January because I had written to the CEO, through a contact at my workplace, asking for advice on how to go about getting published. His editor told him good things about the sample chapters I had sent on email and he offered to publish it. I almost said yes, because he was extremely convincing about how I should not 'get lost in the maze of large publishers'.

Even though I eventually did get accepted by a large publisher and may indeed get 'lost in the maze' (although I hope not and it doesn't really look like it given my experience with the very nice editor I interact with) I will be eternally grateful for this gentleman's encouragement - he is someone with decades of experience in the publishing business and he said something to me which I will never forget.

'I know what Indian writing lacks, my dear...and you've got it'. He gave me a very meaningful look, as I sat nervously on his sofa.

'I do?' I was surprised. 'Thanks very much'. After several minutes of more conversation, I asked him quite stupidly 'Excuse me, but could you tell me - what have I got?'.

He looked momentarily flustered but quickly said 'Why, humor of course'.

He also said later in the conversation 'You've got the makings of a real author. Not just a writer. An author'. This was possibly the first moment in my life when I really believed that something I wrote could actually be seen as worth publishing by someone who counted.

At that point of time, as I mentioned, I was almost convinced that I should just go with this godlike gentleman who was saying all these nice things. However, he wasn't talking large numbers at all; and fiction is not the forte of this particular publishing house. And I happen to have a Mami in publishing, who turned out to be my real guardian angel and guided in the whole process, because when I sent her the novel, she read it and then repeatedly told me to hold out for something bigger - to not be impatient. And that it did make a difference who published it.

I followed her advice, said no to the gentleman, and after a painful wait of a couple of months, quite miraculously, HarperCollins came on the scene and yes, they're doing it. The editor, as I've mentioned, happens to be a very very nice lady, and when she called me with the news, she said she had read it in the car on the way home and couldn't stop laughing and that her driver thought she had gone mad (exactly the kind of reaction I wanted) and that she really wanted to publish it.

The reason I'm disclosing this now is that I have recently received the advance cheque and it looks real enough although I haven't yet tried to bank it and think I might not ( plan is to frame it despite Vijay's protests) - but yes, net-net, looks like they weren't joking after all.

So that's it. The final draft of the book is with them. One has to finalize name. The cover design. And so on. Plenty of time for all that, but I think I will bounce some of the options off you guys as and when they get ready.

In the meantime, the other thing was that I was planning to write Book 2 as a sequel to the first one ; but when I discussed a loose fiction idea with the Editor, she liked the sound of the storyline and said I should try to write that as the second book, and maybe write a sequel to Book 1 as the third book.

'That's a more fun way to do it' she declared over a cup of coffee at the Coffee Shop at Vasant Continental.

So that's what I'm trying now. But it's tough on various counts. Firstly because as I said, I now have many more children than before and also a full time job. It's chugging along though with about thirty stolen minutes of effort each day and lots and lots of ideas in my head. The second level of challenge is that it's fiction! And I never thought I could do fiction, and yes, it certainly is different from anything I've ever done before. The good news is that I think I may be able to do it because it's coming along okay as of now - still needs lots of time and polish but may turn out decent. Not as funny as the first one perhaps, but yes, hopefully interesting.

Look at me - talking about Book 2 and Book 3 already. The gall. The insufferable overconfidence. But then again, why not? I'm not saying I'll be a big author. But I think I will keep writing, now that I've started. And as I've mentioned before, I don't think I'll be quitting my day job for it. If I quit my day job, it would be for other reasons than to 'focus on my writing career' ( especially since my writing career doesn't exist as of now!) . But I know this is something I want to do. I'll do it even if it hardly sells, although the darling editor seems to think otherwise ( A different kind of mass novel is what she calls it).

I'll do it simply because it's possibly the biggest personal ambition I've ever had.

Somebody pinch me.

Actually, don't.

If this is a dream, I'm okay being smack in the middle of it.

Thus far, it's been an interesting weekend

2011-05-14T08:39:00.000-07:00

*Friday night, office party. Had its interesting moments with the music at Turquoise Cottage. Dear office crowd - If we have ONE more party there, I promise you I'll scream. And then I'll probably go anyway because the music there really is great.

*Party lasted approx 2 hours for me. The kids had all slept off at 6.30 p.m. and I decided to go at 8 p.m. At 10 p.m. I got a harried call from the maids, went back and saw that all three were wide awake and crying for me. Fun times putting them back to bed!

*This morning, Sue came to visit! She is really sweet. Came loaded with gifts and with little Rahul, who is a grown up little boy and not the Mowgli-baby I remember from her blog. She stayed only for about thirty minutes though. Next time longer, Eh, Sue? I didn't even get to catch the other Mommy Blogger gossip. I barely get time to read blogs nowadays and I definitely miss knowing what's going on with the various nice ladies out there. But meandering back to the point, it was great seeing Sue.

*My maid Rinki who looks after the twins went off in the morning as her Dad is not well. Jaimala the cleaning lady is still in her village where she's been for three weeks. Anita the cook twisted her ankle and didn't land up. My driver has also extended his holiday by a week and is thus missing in action. Hahahahahahaha! It was definitely an interesting day today for Vijay and me. Especially given that Peanut developed a sudden ear infection and we had to rush her to the doctor. Vijay drove, with me in the backseat with Pickle and Peanut, while little Papad was left behind with the trusty K, and Vijay's dad as backup. The poor little girl was in a lot of pain, but finally slept off and hopefully will wake up much better. Fingers crossed.

*I realized that I am so going to miss the babyness of my babies. Pickle's soft round cheek and double chin which I love to gnaw at. Papad's cute little wide-toothed, wrinkle nosed grin. Pickle's fat thigh. And so on. I so love the things they do too. Both of them blow raspberries on my tummy and set me giggling. Pickle sucks at my arm. Papad bites my chin, cheeks and everything else he can see. I can't believe after a few months, it's the end of breastfeeding days for me. I fed Peanut for 2.5 years, got pregnant and 7 months later, was feeding again. So it's going to be a strange kind of freedom. Oh well. Change is good I suppose. I suppose. I suppose. Except that I don't mind being beaten, bitten, bruised black and blue by my babies if it means that some of these moments can be frozen in time for me. Sigh.

*Oh yes - and I was getting slightly agitated after this day I've had but then got half an hour to swim and after a refreshing little swim all alone in the pool, life looks so eminently handle-able. Nah. Much more than handle-able.

Beautiful.

Slight Little Confessions of a Lady Driver

2011-05-06T09:51:00.000-07:00

I have been driving myself to work and back, given the driver going on leave.

I have made a few trips back and forth so far, and here is a round up

*Day 1, drive to work (with Vijay) - tried to convince him I would be able to drive myself without a problem. Suddenly he yells 'LOOK OUT' and I find that I have nearly banged my car into a van because I wasn't paying attention. Bad timing.
* Day 2, drive to work (without Vijay, as he started travelling) - drove perfectly well and then just as I was parking, gave the car a little bit of a bump because the basement was too dark. Used Facebook status message to convey the message to my husband. Heh-heh. Full public view, what could he say.
* Day 3, drive home from work - almost skipped a red light, stopped in the middle of the road, causing a bit of a jam. Gave the cop my most charming, helpless smile and apologized profusely so he said okay and let me off.
* Day 4, no major incidents - barring the fact that I stalled the car a couple of times. Also, I was trying to be aggro because everyone always cut in front of me, and so I decided to flash my lights at a jaywalking pedestrian in warning; and simply ended up startling myself by accidentally switching on the windshield wiper instead.

So yes, I think...I think...I'm getting better!

P.S - in a weak moment on Day 1, Vijay panicked and shouted ''Look out...saamne ek AUR LADY DRIVER Hai!'

Just another Tuesday

2011-05-03T10:22:00.000-07:00

Drove myself to work at 8.30 a.m.

Nearly had accident right after telling husband trembling in passenger seat not to worry.

Worked.

Took Meru cab at 5.15 p.m and now it was my turn to tremble as the Gunda-looking driver spoke on phone to his wife demanding to know whose voice it was in the background .

Reached home safe and went for a swim with Peanut.

Came back and had Papad and Pickle crawling all over me.

Had dinner with husband and a full 5 minute conversation after the kids fell asleep.

Wrote for half hour.

Could life possibly get any better?

Maybe if everything wasn't hurting so much.

But then, let us not be greedy.

A typical day

2011-04-23T11:17:00.000-07:00

Morning 6.45 a.m.

Have been awaken by Pickle and am in an unusually good mood in the middle of a three day weekend. So am singing a GNR song that was my favorite years ago.

Belting out 'I used to love her...but I had to kill her...I knew I'd miss her...so I had to keep her...she's buried right in my backyaaaaard'.

Vijay opens one eye and says 'Hai raam - kya ga rahe ho, subah subah...kuchh bhajan-wajan nahi hai kya?'

I sing louder 'I used to love her...but I had to kill her...she bitched so MUCH...she drove me NUTS...and I can still hear her complaaaaiiin'.

Vijay shuts his eye and starts fervently and piously singing to try and drown me out 'Om Jai Jagdish Hare...'

Afternoon 2 p.m.

Me despairing about the clutter in the house after spending the morning trying to clean up in vain. Vijay not listening to me but working on his computer. Peanut coloring nearby.

Me: It's an impossible task to clean this house! But I have an idea. I will throw away 5 things each day.
Vijay: (Gives me the Thumbs up sign)
Me: That way, in a week I'll have thrown away 28 things!
Vijay: (Repeats Thumbs up sign)
Me (After some thought) Wait a minute. In a week, I'll have thrown away 35 things, not 28.
Vijay: (Two Thumbs Up sign)
Me: YOU'RE NOT LISTENING TO ME!
Peanut, looking up from her coloring: MAMA! LET HE WORK!

Fine, fine. I know when I'm outnumbered.

Evening 6 p.m.

I make a dismal pronouncement on the onset of menstruation. The one major benefit of pregnancy (apart from the children of course) has always been the lack of monthly cycles. But no more, I tell my husband.

'Oh good' he responds chirpily 'Now we can have more babies!'

Monday Morning Mindf**k

2011-04-21T10:56:00.000-07:00

Scene on Sunday night: We're having a bad night - especially me - with little Pickle who refuses to sleep properly.

We're exhausted by 6 a.m. when he wakes up all bright and chirpy. He wants to play -when I ask Vijay to mind him for a little bit, while I catch some overdue shut-eye given the gruelling week that lies ahead, the husband attempts to oblige, but Pickle starts to cry. He has become extremely attached to me, and tends to get really upset when I hand him over to anyone else. It's as flattering as it is exhausting and I take him back from Vijay, but Vijay is annoyed and mutters ' I can't wait for him to grow up...I will give him a good beating...'

I get upset about this. Pickle had a rough start with his jaundice, and ten days of phototherapy and I still shudder when I think of him under that harsh bright light, lying there naked but for a nappy and a blindfold that he always scratched off his face. I tell Vijay 'You'll do nothing of the sort...he's such a sweetheart'.

'He's such a gunda' says Vijay with feeling. 'I'm sure he got switched at the nursery. He's not like Peanut or Papad'.

'Nonsense' I say and turn away. I've heard this one before. Pickle does look different from the other two - Papad was almost a carbon copy of Peanut at a similar age. What a mean thought, though.

But Vijay persists. 'I'm telling you. It's possible'. Then a thought occurs to him and he asks me with a rather evil smile 'So tell me - what would you do if it were true? If we found out now that Pickle was not ours and had got changed with our real baby in the nursery?'.

I'm not letting him get to me. 'That's easy' I declare 'We'll keep the other baby too and we'll have four and that way they can all play carrom nicely with each other'.

Vijay scoffs at me 'Oh come on. It's not like the other baby would still just be in the nursery after 8 months, you know. He would be with Pickle's real parents - and they would want a baby too. So tell me now - what would you do? Would you give away Pickle and take back the real twin?'

I think hard about it and after a few moments, I am completely flummoxed. The question is an incredibly difficult one. I begin to feel truly uncomfortable until it occurs to me that the question is also a truly inane and unnecessary one. I turn back to Vijay and ask him what the specific reason for this particular Monday Morning Mindf**k is.

He just giggles like a schoolgirl, and it is clear that he has truly enjoyed the conversation.

Idjit.

At Ninety Five, It was a good life.

2011-04-15T10:01:00.000-07:00

My grandfather passed away today.

He was in his 95th year. Amazingly fit - still doing yoga, pranayam, regular walking and so on. Completely independent. But he had had enough. He was tired.

For the last few days, he had not been feeling well. He had a bad cough and was getting weaker and weaker. He kept stating how he was ready to go and resisting attempts to medicate him. I think his basic problem was loneliness.

His wife passed away 3 years ago. He lived in the same complex we do, with my Bua. He was well taken care of but lacked company. I tried to spend time with him, but somehow never could find the time.

We went to visit him yesterday, and it struck me how this was the one man in my life whom I have never fought with; and who always saw good in me. Who always saw me as that little baby 'the sweetest child in our family'. Who mistakenly believed I was still as sweet even now. Who was one of the only people who told Vijay 'You're so lucky to have her', whereas usually we seem to be getting it the other way round. The man who unconditionally loved me, and believed in me so blindly is gone. I'm being selfish about this, of course. The fact is that it's good that he's gone with minimal suffering when he felt he was ready.

He was especially fond of Vijay, though. He absolutely loved him. Papa was into Shayari, having studied Urdu and Vijay, thanks to his general interest in the subject could actually keep up with him, and they exchanged many wonderful moments in the last few years engaging on this topic. When Papa would struggle to remember the second line of a famous couplet, Vijay would search for it on his iPhone and delight him with it. There's no one who brought more joy to Papa in his last couple of years, and for that alone, I know I married the right guy.

It's great that Papa got to meet Pickle and Papad - although his favorite remained Peanut. So much so that he actually said that she was as sweet as I had been in my childhood. He often reminisced about the days when I made him take me into the forest at Alaknanda. In fact, just yesterday he mentioned, how obsessive I was about the peacock feather that I needed to find, and that beyond a point how I would get tired and he would have to carry me on his shoulders.

Vijay was listening to this story and retorted with an inspired 'So nothing has changed Papa. I still have to give her the peacock feathers she demands and carry her around on my shoulders'. They both laughed at me for a while and then went back to the Urdu.

Papa's one regret towards the end was that it looked like he wouldn't get to read my book. When he mentioned it a couple of days ago, I obsessively took a printout in a large sized font of the first 50 pages and presented it to him. I checked with him yesterday - he had only managed to read a couple of pages but he was still full of praise for my style of writing.

The funny thing is that I had presented him with some sample chapters - 3 in total out of about 30. He had read them a few months ago and given them back to me. He later confided in me seriously that it was a 'very good book' and that he was 'sure that someone would publish it'. I looked at him suspiciously for a while and asked him if he was aware that there was more to the book than the 3 chapters I had given him just like that. He was surprised and delighted to know that there was more where that came from. Pity he'll never read it, but yes, the endeavor has his blessing.

Papa had a tough beginning to life and so much more to it than I'll know. I wish I had had more patience to listen. But the fact is, I don't think this time round I'm going to be beating myself up on this. I know I did get to spend at least some time with him, though I wish I had done more. I know I gave him a lot of love. I know we had a very special bond. I always viewed him as some sort of a last link to my own father who passed away at the age of fifty three. Papa was an amazingly special, lovable person. I don't think he hurt anyone, ever. In fact, he was a doctor and he saved lives in the little towns and villages of MP where he was posted. It feels good to know that there are some qualities I probably have inherited from him, although maybe they still need to manifest themselves more.

Papa's own father died when he was in the womb, having been killed by some tribals. He had a difficult childhood and was a very sickly child, and recalls his mother carrying him around 'from sadhu to sadhu' in desperate attempts to find a cure for his condition, whatever it was.

I sat down with him a couple of years ago, and opened a word doc on my computer called 'Papa'. I was determined at the time to find out more about his long and eventful life so that I could base some sort of a story on it. Unfortunately, I didn't get very far on it, just spent a little time listening to it and then had to leave and never completed the exercise. But still, no regrets.

Today I was at the office when I got a call from Vijay saying that my mother had called him and that Papa was very ill. I rushed home. I was very lucky to have 5 minutes with him before he passed away. I don't know if he registered that I was with him, and holding his hand. I was the only one who made it in time - I would have missed it if we had stuck with our original plan of my picking up Vijay from his office first, but I got dropped off on the way. I saw Papa looking sicker than he had ever looked before - great, rasping, uncomfortable, gurgling breaths. When it was over and he suddenly became peaceful, I was incredibly glad. He took a lot of care to maintain himself and remained so active till the end - I wish he hadn't had to suffer at all, but it was brief and now I know he is at peace. The loss is entirely ours, but we're lucky to have had him as long as we did.

The point is that even yesterday, in his condition, he was telling us about how God has been so kind to him always - he didn't have any complaints despite the fact that it's been a rocky, up and down ride for almost a century. So if so close to the end of your life, your primary feeling is that of gratefulness, it's probably been a pretty good life overall. At least, that's what I figure.

So yes. We will miss him. But one cannot really mourn this one because the most important thing is that it was a complete life and we were so lucky to be his children.

In fact, after he had told Vijay 'you're so lucky to have her' he remembered to add 'and she is lucky to have you'.

Vijay said spontaneously 'But I'm luckier, Papa...because of her, I got to meet you'.

So anyway. Everything is as it should be. What more can one ask for?

And the days pass by...

2011-04-12T10:30:00.000-07:00

* Peanut seems to be settling into big school reasonably well. Jumps into the bus happily enough in the morning. Fingers crossed.
* Vijay seems to be settling into new job reasonably well. Jumps out of the car when I drop him off happily enough. Fingers crossed.
* I, on the other hand, may be losing it just a teeny-tiny little bit. My daughter goes to bed at about 11 p.m. I try to write for a little while, but even plotting ( read: Facebooking) takes upto an hour. Midnight I try to sleep. About a couple of hours later, the twins wake up, considerately doing it turn by turn. They finally awaken, strangely refreshed at 6 a.m. and insist that I play with them, which of course I do. The part time maid comes in at 7 a.m. and rescues me and poor K ( who is also up at night helping manage one twin), but by this time, Peanut has to be awoken and made to get ready for school, which of course, needs to be done primarily by yours truly. I drop her off at the bus at 8 and get in a small jog before going home, feeding the twins and getting ready for work. By nine, I'm out, dropping Vijay on the way and then reaching my own workplace. I determinedly climb up 11 flights, fully conscious that this is the only real exercise I ever get. I reach the 11th floor, walk in - it's about 9.40 a.m. usually. I determine to take my boss up on his offer of letting me work from home whenever I want, and think that today I must leave at about 3 p.m. When I next notice the time, it's about 5.30. I rush out and get home by about 6.15 p.m. and it's already getting a little too dark to go out with the kids. Peanut opens the door for me and smiles, but Pickle and Papad start crying as soon as I come into view. I take my kids one by one and play with them and feed them, feeling bad for having left them crying in the morning and trying to pack in as much of their babyness as I can into this time with them. Some evenings I go out with one, two or three of them and visit my 95 year old grandfather who stays with my Bua in our complex. My grandfather is very unwell and insisting it's time to go. I exhort him to stick around and at least read my book which he agrees would be a pity to miss - I've given him about 50 pages and plan to try and drag it out. I visit Vani - who's also moved into the same complex - for a planned few minutes which becomes an actual half-hour minimum and before I know it, I'm late for dinner. I get home and eat with Vijay and then it's time to put Peanut to bed, Pickle-Papad already having been knocked out somewhere in the interim. And so the cycle starts all over again.

And occasionally, there's a little blogging.

It's a pretty good life.

Just So Much Going ON!

2011-04-04T09:34:00.000-07:00

So Peanut is starting school tomorrow. Fingers crossed and all that. Have to drop her to the school, and praying that she settles in nicely.

A week or so back, we went for her 'graduation' ceremony. The playschool had put up a really nice show, with dancing, singing, a play - the works. The kids did a commendable job and it was really quite amazing for me to see Peanut dancing demurely to Swagatam, she and her little partner flawlessly performing the steps.

However, she looked a little bit lost while dancing although I was totally entranced. Vijay said 'She's looking for us...'. It was difficult for her to see us because we were sitting right in the back - Vijay, me, my mother and Vijay's dad. The teachers had announced specifically before the show started that we were not to wave out to and distract our children while they were performing.

Being one who tries to follow official instructions to the absolute T, I told Vijay that we should not wave to our daughter, it would perhaps throw her off and that we should listen to the authorities.

Peanut went off stage, still looking a little lost. She hadn't spotted us. I felt a little bad but figured maybe she would perk up in the next performance. This was a play in which she was acting as 'Sita', the friend of Mowgli, in the Hansel and Gretel play ( don't ask, okay?). Her line was 'Look Mowgli, we have company!' and she had practiced at home several times.

The play was on and Peanut came on stage, looking like a little doll in a blue lehenga. The time rolled around for her to say her line, and I waited with bated breath.

My daughter forgot her line.

The teacher narrating the story smoothly jumped in with her line, but I felt bad - not that she had missed her line, but how she might feel about it. I turned to talk to Vijay about it and did a double take when I noticed he was gone from the seat next to me.

I looked back at Peanut and noted a change in her demeanour. She had perked up and was doing a little wave to someone at the back of the audience. Sure enough, it was my tall, gangly husband - her tall, gangly Daddy - who was determined to have his way and make sure that she saw him. She was now smiling and he headed back to his seat and since she was watching him, she could now see the rest of us too. She was very happy, and it was time for the 'Chaddi pehen ke song' which Mowgli and his friends were to dance on, and boy, did Sita rock it on this number!

She swayed, jumped, wiggled her bum and did a wonderful job with more enthusiasm than I had ever seen at home. Vijay and I were clapping along, and she finally waltzed off the stage with full confidence.

I had to admit. The husband does a good job with his free-wheeling and instinctive parenting. Much better than the by-the-book approach sometimes that some people take a teeny-tiny bit too seriously at times.

That's why we make a great team.

P.S - I actually cried during the graduation. I couldn't believe she had grown up so much.
P.P.S - I asked at the office today how many people cried after India won the World cup. Four out of nine people put up their hands. Just out of curiosity ( am not a cricket fan at all) - did you?

The 11 o'clock Show

2011-03-26T04:01:00.000-07:00

I figured yesterday that Vijay and I should go for the late night show of 'The King's Speech'. By 11 p.m., hopefully all three kids should be in bed, and what was a little loss of sleep when it came to watching such an acclaimed movie.
I thus booked the tickets online and off we went at the appointed hour. One hot chocolatey brownie, a huge tub of popcorn and a large coke accompanied us into the hall.
I was terribly sleepy however, and I have to say that while I really liked the movie, it's not exactly the riveting fast-paced kind that would keep you wide awake at that late hour. But I had a lot of fun and net-net decided that this kind of movie experience could be managed once a month.
Vijay was making sighing and making comments like 'Arrey, yaar....bahut dheere bolta hai...' I thought he was just being funny till the end of the movie, when we walked out hand in hand but realized that our views on the movie were completely opposite.
'WHAT?' he said 'You LIKED IT?'. He then proceeded to say something that annoyed a lot of people who were walking out with us towards the lift, something along the lines of how 'next, koi maharani ko zukaam ho jaaye aur usse koi doctor theek kare, uspe movie banayenge!'. He thought it was predictable, plotless and felt like an extended serial instead of a movie.
I thought it was eminently enjoyable and that the acting was truly superb, even though I did feel that the plot was very predictable. I said I liked the acting a lot...the King, his wife, his brother and of course, the Speech Therapist.
Vijay thought about it and said 'I liked Aunty'.
Which Aunty, I enquired.
'Wohi...wo aunti jissne King ke bhai ko phassaya...woh mast thi'.

Whatever, Vijay. Seriously, should have just let you watch Dabanng at home on your laptop, the corny dialogues of which you were chuckling at, like a teenage boy, just before we left for the hall.

Next late night movie, you get to pick. And I'll be picking the holes in it.

What fun!

Writing...

2011-03-24T09:50:00.000-07:00

I am supposed to be submitting a reworked draft of the book in the first week of April. And suddenly for some reason, it seems impossible to find time to write. Between the three kids and work, there's just hardly any space left. I come back from work and then it's one thing after the other and oh my lord is it really 10.22 p.m. already?
Of course, you may be wondering why I'm able to find the time to blog but basically there's no pressure involved in it with you guys.
Seriously though, I need to finish that book - when when when when WHEN?
Got to feed Papad now.

Zoobie-doobie

2011-03-22T09:45:00.000-07:00

My daughter really has a way about her.
I scolded her about something this morning. I knew I was being a tad unreasonable about it. Mornings with three squalling babies and trying to get ready for work are a little-bittle difficult to handle sometimes.
After I finished scolding her, I saw her nostrils flaring and knew she was going to lose it with me. She began to say 'Mama...you're being st...' but better sense somehow prevailed, and instead she chose to convey her message musically.
Nostrils still flaring, but her mouth beginning to twitch, she started hopping from one foot to the other, and then she began to sing. Initially, I had to strain my ears to make out what she was saying but by the end of it, she was nice and loud.
It was a fast-forwarded version of Zoobie-Doobie.
'Zoobie-doobie-zoobie-doobie...pampaada...zoobie-doobie...padampaaa...
Zoobie-doobie-zoobie-doobie...naache kyon...pagal stupid MA'.
Point made.
And thanks, Vijay, for teaching her that one.

Errr...Supermom? Not really...

2011-03-19T09:22:00.000-07:00

Actually, I'm not anywhere close to Supermom.
You won't find me jumping over diaper piles as high as buildings during the days, and flying above the traffic from my office to my home during the evenings. I do wish I had the power to fly a few times around the Earth to reverse time and get another extra couple of hours with my babies, but I've tried and it doesn't really happen.
Don't get me wrong. I'm not being apologetic here about being a less than perfect Mom. I'm actually just trying to be the best mom that I can be. But it's a description that just doesn't fit me, although it's kind of nice that at least some people can't tell how frazzled I really am half the time.
Having said that, I'm actually feeling really refreshed and kicked right now after a game of squash. I've taken up playing the game with my husband and he's been beating the crap out of me at it. Have you ever sprained your left butt-cheek while playing squash? Not that I'm saying this has happened to me. But sorry, that isn't very a Supermom-like question, is it?
Oh well.

Y's Big Book Break

2011-03-15T10:56:00.000-07:00

I've always wanted to write. When I started this blog in November, 2006 ( oh my GOD that's a long time ago), it was in order to have some sort of a creative outlet.
I blogged fanatically for a while until I realized I was spending too much time on it. But it was a very important step. It put me in touch with some wonderful people, especially mothers. I made some good friends in the blogging circuit. I learnt to deal with (surprisingly few) negative people. And importantly - there were some people who told me that they liked reading me so much that I should write a book.
So Guess What?
While I was on my maternity leave (must have been the near-death experience as I dramatically put it to myself), I wrote me a little something, sent it out, waited a looong time, hoping and praying that someone would like it enough to actually publish it.
And Guess What?
Now don't get too excited - it's a long while away from actually becoming a final product and being launched, in fact, it could take upto a year as the completely darling Chief Editor says. So there's really not much point talking about it just now. But here's the strange thing - over the last few months, my orientation changed completely to 'I want it out soooon' to 'I don't actually care too much about a few months here and there'. The point is - I'm an author. And I know this is only the first. My head is already bursting with ideas for the second and one of my discussions with the Editor today was on a list of book ideas so that I know which one to work on this year, while the first one goes through it's own course of finalization et al.
So it's a huge deal for me. I've been blogging very little because it's hard for me to not write about what's happening in life, and I didn't want to talk about it until it really happened. But now I'm back and I think I'm going to be a lot more regular about writing.
And yeah, I'm not quitting my day job just yet. From whatever I hear, there's not very much money in writing and besides, I actually like my job (gasp!) despite the occasional little annoyances that it entails. Besides, many mouths to feed and all that jazz. So therefore, balance is the key. As I figured when I stopped home after work for about an hour before heading out to the Editor-meeting, and was faced with two wailing babies who wanted to be fed and cuddled at the same time, while Peanut hung on determinedly to my leg as I tried to leave, claiming 'Tell me a SHTORY right now. You ALREADY went to OFFISH'.
Deep breath. Balance. Very important. Sigh.
But before I forget. I want to say a big thanks ( Oscar Style!) to a few people.

To Stuti and Svety and other kind bloggers/commenters for all the encouragement starting many years ago and consistently telling me I write funny and should write more.

To the lady who inspired me to start and finish and send out to publishers and all that jazz and who has no qualms about 'Taking full credit' as she puts it herself. And by the way, happy birthday, Parul.

To my good friend Ganju, Richa and my sister Gitanjali for giving me their feedback on multiple versions.

And to my hubby dear, mother dear and the rest of the family and friends - for all the great material. It just keeps coming at me, every single day.

But balance calls...little Papad has woken up after fifteen minutes of deep sleep and is now wailing for attention.

What fun.

And with that I bid you Goodnight. You beautiful, beautiful people, you!

'You had TWINS?'

2011-02-28T09:27:00.000-08:00

I'll do another, longer post some other day about the various inappropriate comments that a mother of twins receives. Right now, I'm still in the process of collecting.

But yes, the reactions that really get my goat are the ones along the lines of 'Oh you've had twins? So...

'How do you manage?!'
' Three kids? Poor you!'
'Got more than you bargained for, eh?'
'There should be a law against twins the second time round!'
And my personal favorite...
'Best of luck!'

So the thing is - I guess it must be the near death experience or equivalent with the delivery last year, or maybe the scare during the pregnancy itself with the late discovery of twins halfway through, or the jaundice when they were born - but net-net, I'm actually extremely, extremely glad to be a mother of three. I especially love the fact that I'm a mom of twins, given that I've always had a fascination with twins ever since the O'Sullivan Twins and the Sweet Valley Twins that I read about as a little girl.

I have three babies, am managing a career and am working on a very important personal project at the moment. Life is full. Overfull at times, but there's never a dull moment. Day before yesterday, I pulled out my dusty old guitar and was singing to the twins and Peanut. Vijay came in and sat down and made the twins do a highly synchronized Gangsta type dance which had Peanut and me in peals of laughter, so much so that I could barely sing. I realized that I may never get up on stage again like I used to in college, but heck, I got my very own audience - in fact, my very own set of groupies, given how the kids clambered all over me later as I lay back on the bed, making me feel like a very willing Gulliver trapped in a highly blissful and endearing Lilliput.

So yes, Mister 'Best of Luck'...

I accept your wishes for whatever they are worth as I turn my attention back to my 'little' family.

After all, more luck is always welcome.

Why I love February

2011-02-20T06:11:00.000-08:00

Because first it's Happy Birthday to me, and then it's that soppy Valentine's Day and then...and then...

Happy Anniversary to Vijay and Y!!

Eight years and three kids later, we're still going strong. Well, that's a bit of a lie. We could both use some massages, naps, vitamins and what have you.

But still!

As my dear friend Ganju put it when he saw a picture of us with Peanut, Pickle and Papad on Facebook...

''Hum Do, Hamare Pandrah-Bees''.

Eight. Years.

Wow.

Happy Bhalentine's!

2011-02-13T10:12:00.000-08:00

To You.

Oh, and try this. You could win a Valentine's Day Voucher. Even if you don't, it's kind of fun.

Y Thought for the Day

2011-02-06T09:12:00.000-08:00

... the joy of walking up eleven flights of stairs each day in an attempt to get fit, is somewhat lessened by the fact that you meet some jokers every alternate floor who are lighting up, ensuring that you get some of that good ol' passive smoke into your system as you earnestly pant your way upstairs.

When Your 3 year old

2011-01-23T18:14:00.001-08:00

Comes up to you and says...

'Mama. You love me all the time. I know that. But sometimes when you scold me, I get so very utset. Humph'.

...and then goes off with a dignified trot...

You're left staring after her open-mouthed wondering where that suddenly came from - and then think

'Yeah. That's my girl'.

The Twins Who Pretend To Be Identical

2011-01-17T09:58:00.000-08:00

I don't know if I've mentioned it before, but I've always been fascinated by the thought of twins. Well, I actually always wondered what it would be like to be have a twin. But being a mother of two beautiful twin boys is clearly the next best thing.
Funny thing about Pickle and Papad is that they're supposed to be identical but they really look quite different. They are 'genetically identical' - but they're definitely two separate individuals.
Pickle is the 'big bhaiiya' - he was born one minute before Papad but is definitely the gunda of the twosome. He sat up earlier, is already crawling and despite his rough start with the jaundice and all that - or perhaps because of it - he's the tougher one.
His cheeks are like two eminently bite-able apples. They are incredibly big, round, red and faintly chapped thanks to the Delhi winter. Quite adorable.
Papad is the sweetie - the youngest one, the baby of the family. He's got very shy smiles, and slightly sparse hair unlike Pickle's thick black crop. Papad is a very good little baby in general.
We took them for their development check up at 6 months a week or so ago -and the specialist made a comment on Papad making Pickle do all the hard work - he lay around peacefully watching Pickle grab at, bang on and otherwise experiment with all the new toys. The specialist said 'When they're older, he'll say you go ahead...book the movie ticket...talk to Mum about going...and buy a ticket for me too'.
Somehow the image of my not-so-identical identical twin sons at about the age of 15 talking to me about their plans to go for a movie hit me with a jolt. These little babies aren't just the teddy bears I think of them as sometimes...they're going to be two strapping males. Peanut's bodyguards.
Prospective suitors for my daughter are going to be chased off by others saying 'Whoa...watch out for that one...her twin brothers are toughies, they really look out for rher'.
Already she's so fond of them and vice versa - she makes them laugh all the time. I think they're going to have a really special relationship. And of course, there are times when she wants to act like the third twin. A couple of hours back, I decided to put clips in the twins' hair to make them look like cute little girls so of course Peanut had to get into the act as well. The three of them were a real sight to see.
Man, I've made some cute babies. Well done, Y's uterus.
Now where's that Kala Teeka again? It's one of those posts, isn't it? Well, I couldn't help it.
Three is a good number.

Car-versations

2010-12-13T08:22:00.000-08:00

A few days ago, I was dropping Peanut off to school on my way to work. I absent-mindedly started to put on a little lipstick - something I hadn't done in ages.

I finished and looked over to see Peanut gazing at me curiously.

'Mama, your lips are all brown'.

I checked myself out in the rear view mirror and said 'Yes. They are, aren't they. Do I look nice?'

She nodded enthusiastically, with a very bright, naughty smile, and added 'You look just like a lady'.

I was really surprised to hear this word from her and asked 'Do you even know what a lady is?'

She nodded again knowingly and said 'Yes'.

I challenged her 'Who is a lady?'

'Didu is a lady' was the firm reply ( referring to my mother)

This was undeniable, but I asked 'How do you know?'

She was looking out the window now, losing interest fast. She remarked over her shoulder 'Because she has brown lips'.

Circular reasoning, but I found it so adorable that I tried to cover her face in kisses, and was pushed away saying 'Not with brown lips, mama...your lips are all sticky...'

We started to repeat this exercise with only minor variations every day. She enjoys reminding me to put on my lipstick, and then informing me that my lips are all brown and that I look like a lady but I cannot kiss her because my lips are all sticky. Except that occasionally she mixes up the word 'sticky' with 'stinky', which is very flattering.

So a few days later when we were returning home after a picnic with my sister in law and her daughter, 2-year old Nikita, the conversation in the car went as follows -

Nikita, looking at my shades in Peanut's hands, said 'What's that thingy, Peanut?'

Peanut replied with some heat 'I am NOT Stinky Peanut'.

It was amusing enough until she decided to clarify 'My MAMA be all stinky. Every DAY'.

Thanks, kid. Love you too.

Pump It Up, Pump It Up, Pump It Up, Y'all

2010-12-09T08:45:00.001-08:00

...this post is not for the men.

As a mother of three ( gasp), one of the things I've had to make sure I excel at is Multi-tasking - more so than ever before.

So I've mastered the art of feeding one of the twins while pumping milk simultaneously for the other, AND talking on the phone at the same time. All I've got to do is figure out how to also surf the internet at the same time, and I'm home.

The pumping thing is all the more necessary now that I'm back at work - even though it's only half days, the fact is that the twins are just about 5 months old and still need breastmilk to truly thrive. After a lot of struggling with my pump, a Medela Swing, I finally figured out how to successfully express decent amounts of milk for them.

Pumping on one side while feeding from the other has numerous benefits, the most important being that the feeding activates the let-down for a better flow. It's a huge time-saver - although it really annoys me that I have to give the pump a lot more attention than the babies so it cuts into the whole bonding-while-feeding thing. Oh well, can't have everything, eh?

A few days ago, though, the pump started malfunctioning. For no reason at all, it just kept switching off every few seconds. Considering it is already a hassle to handle a squirming baby who is distracted by the sound of the pump and fascinated by the contraption itself and keeps grabbing at it, this was really driving me up the wall.

I nagged my mechanical-engineering type husband to fix the thing, and he studiously examined it for a few seconds before declaring it was all fine. He asked me to balance it on a flat surface. Considering that I have to balance it on my post-pregnancy curvaceous hips while lying down to feed, I told him that this would not be possible.

I nagged him more and more until he finally called up the Mothercare section at Shopper's Stop, where the pump had been purchased. Of course, we had already lost the bill considering it's been a few months since we bought it, but they told us to come on down. We went to Select City Walk in Saket, and went over to the customer complaints department, and explained the problem.

Of course, for a while, the pump pretended to be working perfectly fine when the people at the complaints counter switched it on. I held my breath and prayed and prayed and finally it switched off. I had to keep from shouting in triumph 'See? I wasn't lying!'

The complaints people, a young man and a woman, called their supervisor and explained the problem to her. The lady studiously examined the pump and then opened it up and said 'This is the problem. There is no battery!'

I rolled my eyes up to the heavens and explained to her that I was using the adapter and that perhaps there was another problem. She acknowledged the truth in this and after putting their heads together for a while, they came up with a solution.

They wrote the number of the Medela customer care ( which is apparently a big secret) on a piece of paper and handed it over to me. I was stunned. I said 'But surely you could have given this to me on the phone, too? Why did I come down all the way to your store just for this?'.

They had no real answer but instead urged me to call the number right then and there, as if it would solve all my problems in life. I called the number reluctantly and an unfriendly female voice said 'Hello?'. She sounded resentful at a customer actually having discovered the helpline number.

I explained the problem in great detail, and she gave me a solution in great detail 'Open the pump Madam - see the black portion? Take it out and put the piping in, one end in a mug or water, of a cup of water if you want, whatever, and then the other end in the regular spot and it will clean it by itself. After ten minutes, take it out and then switch it on for about five minutes and then use it again, Madam. It will surely work. And this will solve the problem of No Suction that you are facing'.

I informed her that the problem I was facing was not of No Suction but of the pump switching off by itself every few seconds. She apparently didn't like my questioning her wisdom and insisted that I try this first and then call her back and only then would she send her technician. I gave up, said I would go home and try out her ridiculous advice and then call her again.

Miraculously, as it so often happens, I reached home and the pump started working perfectly. I thanked my husband profusely, asking him what he had done to make it start working again, and he shrugged his shoulders modestly saying that 'Perhaps our taking it to the store had exposed it to the right environment'. I gratefully started using my pump again and life has been perfect ever since.

Of course, when I was interrupted during the writing of this post to feed Pickle, and tried pumping, I found that the problem with the pump is back but I would like to ignore it for the time being. As I was saying, I'm a multi-tasking Supermom and life is perfect.

(Bawwwwwl)

Happy Birthday, Happy Retirement

2010-12-01T09:14:00.000-08:00

My mother has turned 60 years old ( gasp!) and is now officially an old lady. We gave her a (yawn) surprise party yesterday. But this time, there was a twist, which my sister came up with. We wanted to do something big for her this time round, and so we three siblings (and the husband Vijay and the sister in law Vandna) are all chipping in to send her off to (ta da!) EGYPT!
Initially, Gitanjali was a bit confused about whether we should get her to do South Africa or Egypt. But we eventually decided on Egypt based on the fact that there were more quips and jokes around Egypt and so a theme party around Egypt would be more fun. We’re decisive like that. Happily, our Gouri Masi agreed to accompany her on this journey and so it all worked out well.
For the party, we also decided to print up a gift voucher for her and have a little treasure hunt with clues placed all around the drawing room, which Mother dear would have to crack in order to get to her prize. The clues were very bad ones such as:

Clue 1 : The Secret Lies in the Chamber of Horrors. (Harry Potter and the Chamber of Secrets on the bookshelf)
Clue 2: Oh All Powerful One! Don't blow this opportunity and burst your dream bubble (Balloon) Clue 3: Like Re, Isis & Horus in Indian garb (Idols of Ram, Sita and Laxman)
Clue 4: Most ancient artefact, one may not hear (Papa, our 95 yr old grandpa who doesn’t hear very well)
Clue 5: Keep going, we promise, this is one smokin' prize (Ashtray)
Clue 6: You're getting closer. But alas and Arak, there is one more clue after this one. Stop whining and look on...( bottle of Wine)
Clue 7: A match made in heaven; still the best looking in the room (Mom, Dad wedding photo)

So, after the champagne that we struggled to open for about five minutes and which finally meekly popped open with a tiny ‘bup’ – a major anticlimax - Mother dear proceeded to crack the clues, watched by a roomful of people who were trying to ‘help’ her by basically confusing her. My favorite clue was Papa – it was so easy to slip the clue chit into his pocket as I hugged him to say hello. He sat there right next to my mother, beaming at her and the rest of us while she tried to figure out what ‘ancient artefact’ we were talking about. Yes, we’re a bit rude but it’s alright, we love him. The Egyptian mood was enhanced by everybody wearing very Arab-type of chunnis on their heads; the ‘Egyptian music’ that Vijay had downloaded ( one Arabic-sounding track that he looped over and over plus a strange remix of ‘Walk like an Egyptian).

Behind the final clue, the wedding photo, was the gift voucher for a Trip to Egypt that Gitanjali got designed and printed up through a friend of hers. It was quite cool and authentic and all papyrus-type, and had the following silly ‘terms and conditions’:

* The bearer of this voucher is entitled to an all expense paid trip with companion of choice (hint: your eldest sister) to Egypt.
* "All expense" does not include shopping, liquor or guarantee of watching all audio-visual documentation of trip upon return
* This voucher cannot be redeemed for cash or transferred to any being other than one of the bearer's offspring (pick the one that you love the most)
* Bearer must agree to carry shopping lists (minimum 3) as given by issuers of voucher and dutifully bring back their desired goodies
* The Government of Egypt requires that all visitors to their country be below a maximum weight of 65 kgs in order to avoid giving the camels a backache
*Government of Egypt also has said only Indians who can roll their R's are allowed in, so please demonstrate this ability upon receipt of voucher' ( ...as you may have guessed, she can't)
* Relation of ‘amusing’ anecdotes from the trip require prior rehearsal or reading from a previously prepared script (...you have to have a couple of decades experience listening to my Mom trying to tell a joke to understand why this is important)
* While some of the ancient artefacts may not be upto high standards of hygiene it is advisable to steer clear of saying 'tut, tut' to King Tut
* Bearer may be asked to walk like an Egyptian upon return to New Delhi
* Terms & conditions are subject to arbitrary changes at any point of time... so be nice!!

Mother read out the terms and conditions to the roomful of people and giggled at all the wrong places. Then my sister brought out a huge, HUGE pyramid-shaped cake from Maxims (they are really awesome) and we proceeded to do the Happy Birthday thingy. It was good fun.

Dinner was some Lebanese food and some yummy Biryani (look, we had to make DO with whatever was available –YOU tell me where to get Egyptian food in Delhi). I was so tired that I almost dropped to the floor and eventually at about 11 p.m., me, Vijay, the K, Rinki and our three children headed home.

It had been fun. Especially the part when , just before leaving, I had asked my Mom when she was planning to take the trip and she looked at me and said ‘What? I thought you were joking.’

When Love and Hate Collide...

2010-11-27T08:56:00.000-08:00

...or when Peanut and Adi collide. Same thing.

3 year old Peanut and her cousin, 2 year old Adi have spent the last few days in close quarters, for the first time in their lives.

It's been quite an experience 'Bringing Up Adi' ( Heh heh, Parul) for the last week while the rest of the family has been in Jaipur. Apart from the joy of having 4 small children in the house, all of whom have been merrily reinfecting each other with their colds and runny noses, it's been a challenge keeping the peace between Peanut and Adi. I handled it very well, though.

I just quietly shut the door to my bedroom and let them fight it out.

Soon, though, both of them discovered how to work the handle and would barge in, complaining about each other not sharing a toy. Peanut was the bigger complainer, although she was also occasionally elbowing him aside and taking things away from him. Yesterday, she walked in and informed me 'Adi tried to snatch this hat from me'. I looked at the hat in her hands and did a double take.

I told her 'But I gave this hat to Adi - why did YOU snatch it from him?'

She said angelically 'I didn't snatch it. I only it took it from him'.

It's been really amazing to see them fighting like two furious tiger cubs one minute, and then walking around hand in hand like the best of friends one minute later, kissing each other and hugging affectionately. Peanut has really enjoyed his company overall, even though she has got the worst of most physical fights. It seems to have made her less of a crybaby overall, and it's clear she enjoys having someone close to her age around.

Some of their fights have been most amusing to watch. Adi tends to walk up to Peanut and inform her 'Aap thanda-thanda ho'.
Peanut responds with some heat 'Nahin. Main thanda-thanda nahin hoon'.
Adi takes offense to this rejoinder and shouts 'Haan! Aap thanda-thanda ho'.
This continues for a while and eventually comes to blows. I tried to interject a couple of times saying that everybody was the exactly correct temperature that they needed to be, but neither of them listened to me.

When on better terms, they've been going to the park together - occasionally with the K, other times with me - and since they look rather alike and are both very cute small kids, they get attention from others. Someone even asked the K 'Are they twin brothers!'. Ha ha.

I took them to the mall the other day, and a lady asked me 'Are they both yours?' with some surprise. Rather than explain things to her, I just said yes. Why not? I bought the two of them some bubbles, and they couldn't wait to get home and play with them. It brought me back to the days when nothing made me happier than just blowing bubbles and running around trying to burst them. Ah, childhood ( she sighed nostaligically).

When I come home from work, Adi is the first person at the door. I hear him go 'Taun Aaya' ( he has the cutest little lisp). And then as the door opens and he sees me, he goes delightedly, 'It's Chacheee!'

The three of us have been baking chocolate cakes together every few days. I can bake a cake in under half an hour but when they ''help'' me, it takes longer. They insist on doing everything and end up spilling a lot, but it's been fun. Also, even though the cakes turn out nicely, they seem to now prefer the process of baking it over eating it. Today both of them came to me and said they wanted to bake a cake. Adi said 'Talo, Chachee, Cake Banaye'. I pointed out that they still hadn't finished even half of the last cake but they didn't appreciate the logic.

At the park, the two of them play mostly on the slides. Peanut climbs up to the top and says 'Mama!' Adi follows along and also shouts at me 'Mama, Mama!' I wave at the two of them and they slide down one by one - Peanut whizzing down fast and ladylike, Adi just flopping down almost horizontally, landing flat on his back in the mud each time. They enjoy playing in the mud too, digging with sticks and dirtying each other completely.

They are strangely affectionate with each other at times. Today Adi sat down on Peanut's lap. They've been patting each other to sleep at bedtime - eventually abandoning the exercise to go and play together at almost midnight, much to my chagrin. All in all, it's been really great having tiny little Adi around and we're going to miss him a lot when he leaves next week.

Also, I was getting rather smug when he started calling me 'Mama'.

Except that Peanut now calls me Chachi.

Let me tell you about my weekend

2010-11-23T02:57:00.000-08:00

The kids - all three of them - were due for a doctor's visit. The twins for their vaccination, and Peanut for a general check up. Vijay is in Jaipur with the rest of the family, so I said I would take them on Saturday by myself.
I discovered on Friday that it was actually a working Saturday for me. I have started working half days, so decided to keep my doctor's appointment as planned in the morning and work in the second half.
For one mad moment, I evaluated taking little 2 year old Adi, my nephew with me because he had been coughing and sniffling of late, but his father - my brother-in-law Ajay - said it would not be necessary. So for the moment, he was left at home while the rest of us set out.
We had a new driver taking us who did not know the way, so of course we got lost on the way. Peanut, who was sitting in the back of the Innova with my help Rinki, decided that she wanted to sit on my lap. Considering that I was sitting in the front seat because I needed to withdraw a lot of cash for the injections and was looking out for an ATM, this was not possible. Therefore, she started to cry, claiming that the seat belt was hurting her and causing a stomach ache.
She cried so much that Papad woke up and started crying too. The twins were sitting in the middle in their car seat and the car was filled with the melodious sound of Peanut and Papad trying to out-wail each other. Thankfully, Pickle slept through it all. I like Pickle. Rinki decided that the driver was going to fast and sitting in the back of the Innova did not suit her delicate stomach, and in the nick of time, we stopped the car to let her throw up violently out the window.

We finally reached and the awful journey was over. That's when I discovered that Rinki had packed everything very nicely, filling 90 ml of boiled water into four bottles for the twins' formula. Only, she had omitted to pack the formula itself.

The babies were hungry and I decided to feed Pickle first. However, Pickle decided that he wanted to embarass me by causing me to flash the whole world, or at least all the people in the waiting room because he kept detaching while feeding to survey the room with great interest. I struggled with him and decided this was not happening and that I perhaps did like him all that much, after all.

I called our driver Radhey Shyam and asked him to get some formula. Some WHAT, he asked. I said get 'Nan 1'. He listened politely but I could tell he didn't get it. I wrote it on a piece of paper and went up to give it to him. I waited and waited for him, while he returned from around the corner where he had been doing whatever he had been doing. He took the paper and 500 bucks from me and went off. He returned within a minute saying 'Where will I find this?'. I told him to get to a chemist and fast. He checked with a couple of other drivers around and they directed him to the nearest chemist.

I went downstairs to the doctor's office, which happens to be in the basement of his house - and it was already my turn. Peanut was first ,walking in to inform him 'I need my checkup'. She had her check up and all was well. It was the twins' turn now and Radhey Shyam had still not come back. I saw on my phone that I had a missed call from him. The signal in the basement was poor so I had to rush up the stairs to speak to him. I called him and he informed me 'Madam, this chemist is getting married, and is back only on the 29th of November'. Tightlipped, I informed him that the nuptials of the neighborhood chemist did not interest me and he should go and find another chemist immediately. I also told him that he should not call me again but should just return with the formula and come downstairs to give it to me as the signal was poor in the basement.

After a few minutes of delaying the doctor with inane questions before he got to the shots, I was unable to put it off any longer. Poor little Pickle got his shots - two of them - and there was no formula to comfort the hurt and crying baby. While holding him to my shoulder to quieten him down, I saw another missed call from Radhey Shyam. Gritting my teeth, I rushed up the stairs again, holding Pickle, while Rinki held Papad for the doctor, and called the driver.

Radhey Shyam had the most intelligent question in the world for me. 'Madam - should I get 2 boxes or only one? You see, I thought I should ask because they are twins and I thought that perhaps 2 boxes would be more appropriate...' Resisting the urge to track him down and shoot him, I told him that either one or two would be fine but could he please get back with some formula right away?

Thankfully within a few minutes he was back, although poor Papad also had had his shots by then. Rinki efficiently prepared two bottles and we fed the children. Peanut was very sweet, giving Pickle the bottle while I paid the receptionist for the visit. It was not on purpose that she ended up putting the bottle into his nose, and I rescued him just in time. The kids were all ready to go home and we packed and bunged ourselves into the car, heading back home.

I volunteered my front seat to Rinki, and sat in the back with Peanut - but of course Peanut chose to cry again, this time claiming the seat belt was hurting her neck. Rinki threw up again for good measure, just as we were about a 100 metres from home.

We lurched through the front door thankfully, only to be greeted by a furious tiny Adi, who informed us in no uncertain terms 'I HATE you'. He was apparently most upset at having been left behind by the lot of us, and took a while to forgive us, telling us each 'I HATE you' in turn as we tried to mollify him.

After this, I actually mustered up the courage to go to work for a couple of hours and finished catching up on some of the things that had happened while I was away in the last four and a half months. I was completely exhausted by the time I got back home, and basically between breastfeeding the twins, giving them their Calpol for the pain of the shots, discovering Papad had developed Fever, pumping up a supply of milk for Monday and trying to keep Adi and Peanut from damaging each other, I ended up collapsing into bed about 11 p.m.

Throughout the night, Pickle and Papad were cranky -they had slept a lot through the day and were awake most of the night. The K, my saviour in such moments, helped by taking one of them off me when she heard me struggling with both the wailing babies at odd hours through the night. I was bleary eyed and still exhausted when dawn broke and the various members of the household roused themselves.

The first thing I heard clearly was the pint-sized Adi who was telling either Rinki or the K in his categorical way 'I HATE you'.

Life is fun.

Back at the Office

2010-11-18T08:44:00.000-08:00

All too soon, my maternity leave appears to have ended. I was planning to go back to work in January, but for various reasons have decided to start half days right away.

So I found myself in the office today and felt a bit strange being away from the babies. I was doing my best to concentrate on work and catching up with my team and boss, but was getting interrupted by various phone calls.

My sister-in-law Garima who had just reached the U.S and had to check on her two-year-old son Adi who is staying with us.

My maids for various reasons including instructions on how much formula to feed the babies in my absence, and when to do so.

But the prize for most interruptions goes to...my brother Abhi, who was calling to enquire about whether his sunglasses had accidentally been left behind in my car yesterday. He had had a tough day-he had planned to take his daughter Nikita to the zoo and I, being the prize pile-on that I am and needing to get one of my three kids out of my hair for the day, had sent Peanut and the K along with them as well. It was very crowded. It then started raining. And then the two small girls decided that they did not want to walk more than a few feet and were in 'godi' throughout. Understandably the trip was cut short. But the most devastating event of the day for my bro was the loss of his shiny expensive new sunglasses.

'You see,' he started to explain on the phone before I could tell him I was in the middle of a meeting at office 'what had happened was that when we reached the zoo, the K , despite my instructions got all of Peanut's food in her bag and the security guy had stopped us...and so I had to go back to the car to put the bag back...and then I went back to the gate but then we found that Nikita's changing bag also had two apples and a banana in it...and then I had to go back to the car again to put the fruit back...'

My team members sat around twiddling their thumbs, waiting patiently for me to get off the phone. I found myself wondering why my brother had to tell me the whole story, including the exact inventory of the fruit in the saga, but I couldn't get a word in edgewise to tell him I needed to call him back.

'...and so' he blathered on 'I'm pretty sure that one of those two trips, I also gave my sunglasses to the driver and asked him to keep them safely...it was beginning to rain at the time so I knew I would not need them...but then later, we got home and took the kids out of the car and in the night I remembered that I had not taken them...so I called the K and asked her to look in her bags just in case they were there, but she said they were not...and then I called the driver and he insisted he had kept them in the bag with the fruit...now, I'm confused because I don't know which bag was the one with the fruit, and whether there was a third bag that we don't know about and whether the fruit that he was talking about was actually the two apples and the banana that we found in Nikita's changing bag, or whether there was some other fruit bag that the K was carrying for Peanut... because I'm pretty sure that the two apples and the banana were just kept loose on the seat...'

I finally interrupted him after a couple of paragraphs to tell him that while this was indeed a crisis of the highest degree, I would have to call him back since I was in a meeting. He huffily said 'Well, you only asked what was up, you should have said you were busy. Anyway, call me when you are with the driver'. And he hung up on me.

Happily, the glasses were eventually located and will be returned tomorrow to their rightful, if somewhat hyper owner - who also insisted on doing a long telephonic post-mortem with me of exactly how they had been lost and found.

And my phone will be on silent for the first half of each day from tomorrow, so call me in the evenings, hey?

She Has Gone

2010-11-15T01:10:00.000-08:00

Thanks for all your prayers.

Edited to add: Mummyji left us day before yesterday. The cremation was yesterday, and the Chautha is tomorrow.

All we can console ourselves with is that she is at peace - that her suffering is over.

We're talking about her all the time. Peanut keeps saying 'I want Mummyji back'. How do you explain this to a 3-year old? She listens to every explanation we have to offer and then firmly repeats 'But I want her back'.

Please Pray

2010-11-11T06:09:00.000-08:00

Vijay's mother has been in the ICU for more than ten days now. Please spare a moment to send good vibes and prayers for her.

Karvachauth Kissy-Kissy

2010-10-26T21:50:00.000-07:00

I was out on my walk last night - usually at about 8 p.m, I have the little park in our complex all to myself. I was meandering along dreamily, when I chanced upon a couple all entangled in an embrace barely fit for public consumption. They were presumably a newly married husband and wife who also thought they had the park all to themselves.
All three of us were slightly embarassed by this but I passed them nonchalantly pretending not to notice anything. The man then said loudly 'Er, so where is that Damn Moon anyway?'.
They stood there scrutinizing the sky for the Damn Moon and my lips twitched just a little bit when I was a safe distance away.
Ah, Tradition. Nothing like it.

K and the Microbe

2010-10-21T05:06:00.000-07:00

The K loves the Microwave oven, which she refers to fondly as the Microbe. The Peanut, too, thanks to her now calls it that.

A couple of days ago, I was trying to sleep. It had been a bad night, with my having to wake up almost every hour on the hour to feed Pickle and Papad. At about 6.30 a.m., I realized I couldn't sleep because there was too much noise coming from outside the room.

I also realized that there was this consistent beep-beep that sounded like the Microwave oven being put on to heat something for 30 seconds - this beep-beep was repeated over and over, and I wondered who on earth was heating something at this hour. I finally decided to get up to investigate.

In the kitchen, I found the K standing near the microwave oven with several cups of milk lying nearby.

'What' I asked her ' Are you doing with the microwave so early?'

She mumbled that she was making tea for Vijay's parents, who were early risers. Fair enough.
'But why are you heating milk in the microwave'.
She said that she did not like to put cold milk in the tea, so she warmed it in the microwave first and then put it in the tea.
Okaayyyyy, I thought. I then asked her 'But what are these extra cups for?'
She said that one of the mugs was for Vijay's tea, which she was just going to make next.
I asked her why she was making Vijay's tea now when he would not rise for the next two hours.
She had no answer for this.
I then asked her if she did want to make Vijay's tea in advance for any reason, why had she just not made three cups of tea, and made his along with his parents.
She had no answer for this either and just looked surly. She then informed me that one of the other cups of milk was for me.
I said, even I had my cup of milk with some protein powder two hours later, and more importantly, I liked it cold. So why was she heating it?
She said that she believed that if she heated it once, and then kept it in the fridge for me, then it would remain fresh for longer.
I did not understand this logic at all. I then asked her who the final cup was for.
She brightened up, saying that this one was for Peanut, who wanted her choco-dudu as soon as she woke up.
I said that Peanut wanted her milk warm, and would again, rise only a couple of hours from now - so what was the point of heating it now and then having to heat it again?
The K kept silent, clearly not appreciating this game of twenty questions early in the morning.

I tried to keep my cool, and said perhaps she could lessen her use of the 'Microbe' in the mornings and find something else to do, since it created a disturbance for people trying to sleep. I surmised that this was just a case of her trying to create some work for herself, given that she was an early riser.

The next morning, I was awake again at 6.30 a.m., bleary eyed after another bad night. I then heard a creaking sound - somebody, presumably the K, had walked up to my bedroom door and was shutting it tight. There was a slight click that indicated that the door was indeed shut as tight as it could be.

The now slightly muffled beep-beep of the Microbe started up again, every 30 seconds for the next several minutes.

I just buried my head under the pillow and tried to block it out.

But I WANT to lean on the Brudda...

2010-10-18T10:47:00.000-07:00

Peanut tends to get upset when we ask her to be gentle with her brothers. She is very fond of them and wants to kiss them and clamber all over them, all the time. Especially when she caught an infection, we tried our best to get some distance between her and them but it didn't really work.

She displays amazing resilience -after a brief sulk in a corner, wherein she tells anybody passing by that some offender (me or Vijay usually) had the temerity to tell her 'Not to lean on the Brudda', she bounces back and comes back to do the exact same thing.

Admirable tenacity. Admirable.

That's my girl.

By the Water Cooler

2010-10-14T10:47:00.001-07:00

I am republishing an old office post as part of the By The Water Cooler Contest.

Read, enjoy, participate and spread the word about Parul's new book :-)

My Office Story: Get Well Soon, Bhani

A most unfortunate incident has occurred. I feel almost bad making fun of it.Almost.But seriously... it is quite terrible. Vani had an accident two days back. To cut a long story short....( click and read original post here)

Work-Life Balance

2010-10-12T06:08:00.000-07:00

Ever since I went on maternity leave this time round, I've noticed a pattern amongst my friends.
Basically all of them are working in corporates, and they don't seem to have lives.
It's strange. Especially after the twins arrived, there were so many people who were enthusiastic about coming over. One particular weekend, four different friends - Vani, Shome, Manav and Anirudh had promised to come over.
None of them showed up. Not one. And the amazing thing was that none of them even bothered to call.
I realized that when they had said 'I'm going to come and see you and the babies this weekend' - they didn't really mean it. I, on the other hand, had taken it quite literally as their planning to come over. In fact, it was quite funny because here I was thinking 'How will we fit in so many visitors on one weekend' - and then all of them bailed.
I think there is a lot of insincerity creeping into our daily interactions. Some of it is of the type where you meet someone you knew a while back but don't really care too much about anymore, and then you go 'Oh give me a missed call, I'll save your number' - and you know pretty well you're never going to call them or hear from them again. But this particular thing - ''I'll see you this weekend, for sure''- occurred to me with people who happen to be amongst my closest friends. And I know they don't mean it -and I also know that perhaps I am guilty of exactly the same behaviour - but still, it's kind of sad.
The basic issue seems to be that very few people know how to manage their lives outside of their work. The companies that we work in seem to be taking it all out of us. Squeezing out all the energy that we have. Leaving us with only a day or two here and there in which to manage all our household chores and other family committments - and giving us hardly any time and space to nurture any other type of relationship.
I'm sure a lot has been said and written about some sort of social transformation in the big cities in India and the resulting loneliness of the urban working population. But it's only become obvious to me personally during this time that I've been sitting at home feeding my babies.
Incidentally, all these people eventually came and visited. But it took each of them an average of two cancellations and re-schedulings to eventually make it.
Surely there is a better way. There must be a way to hold down a job - no, to be pretty damn good at your job - and still find a way to make time for your family - and the, above and beyond that, still find time for your friends.
You may say I'm a dreamer. But I'm not the only one.
Or am I?

A question to the C-section mothers

2010-10-10T10:07:00.000-07:00

Does the scar ever really go away?

It's a Twin Thing

2010-10-01T03:53:00.000-07:00

Occasionally over the last few weeks, I've been taking out Pickle and Papad for a walk in the little park inside our complex.

I was gifted the nicest twin stroller by a complete stranger - basically, a lady in the park has a friend whose twins are now grown up. The stroller she had used for them was still in good shape and she didn't know what to do with it - so when the park-lady mentioned it to her, she was only too happy to offer this stroller and I was only too happy to accept.

The thing is that there is no concept of a peaceful walk with the twins. Everybody wants to stop and look at them and ask questions about whether they are identical, how old they are, and so on. The little kids and old aunties alike are equally fascinated by them.

I must say that as a mother it is gratifying to hear things like 'They are sooo cute', and 'How Gorgeous are they'...and so on. Especially since the first few weeks I was hearing comments like 'alien' and 'rats' - and the fact is, they were very alien-and-rat-like in those days.

But now, they are growing well, both over 5 kgs and chubby with the fattest little dimpled thighs and cheeks you ever did see. They are well within the normal range, and their difficult start in the nursery seems to have done them no harm, but in fact has made them much easier to deal with than Peanut ever was. They don't cry or fuss even half as much as she did and they are in general very peaceful little creatures - sleeping, playing by themselves, feeding, burping loudly, pooping and doing all the things that little babies do.

Of course, they are not sleeping through the night but I'm convinced no kid ever does! They wake up every couple of hours for a feed even now, although they are almost 3 months old. I wake up dutifully to feed them and they fall back asleep after a solid burp or two. The fact that there are two of them does make it a fairly continuous process through the night but it bothers me surprisingly little. After the last 3 months being the way they were, little things actually bother me a whole lot less!

Anyway, no one is happier when I bring them to the park than Peanut. She is typically playing football with the K or a friend when I land up with them, and she runs squealing all the way across the park and insists on pushing the stroller with me. She guards them jealously and gives the evil eye to the other tiny girls who bend over too close and -gasp-have the temerity to kiss them. I haven't learnt the art of telling little girls not to do that, despite the risk of infection - they do it so sweetly.

One new lady at the park saw me strolling them around and asked me a couple of questions about them including 'How do you manage?'. There is never an answer to that question so I just laughed and told her that I, in fact, have one more child - and pointed out little Peanut running around in the distance.

Instead of saying anything about how difficult it must be, all the woman said was 'Wow! You are one blessed lady!'.

And I thought 'Yes Ma'am. That I am!'

This is one of those Kala Tika posts, isn't it! All Jinxes, Go Away! Go on now - Shoo!

8 Years and I Still Don't See It Coming

2010-09-23T08:31:00.000-07:00

Y (working on laptop on bed, next to lazing husband): Honey, my laptop battery is running out...
Vijay: Hmmm...?
Y: Please plug the charger in for me...
Vijay (Unwilling to move even half an inch): What? No...you plug it in.
Y: (Annoyed because the plug point is just behind his head and this hardly requires any effort on his part) Come on, just plug it in behind you.

( Slight pause as Vijay chooses his words carefully)

Vijay: Honey, you'll find plenty of natural gases there but no electricity...

Admission for Peanut!

2010-09-16T21:41:00.000-07:00

So like most other parents of 3 year olds, we have been doing the rounds of various schools to get Peanut admission into Nursery for next year.

But being the very lucky people that we are - one of the nicest schools on our list did a draw of lots a couple of days back, and Peanut's name was the fourth in a list of five girl names drawn for our group that day. It's one of those rather progressive schools and we really liked their approach to education - very different from all the other schools. Now we will spare ourselves the hassles of going to most of the other schools, and only consider one more.

There were a total of 12 names out of a group of about 40, so we are definitely lucky.

Or IS it luck?

I firmly believe it's because I wrote out a cheque to the school BEFORE we went for the draw that day. Yes, I was rather sheepish about trying to apply something that 'The Secret' said, but hey, it clearly worked.

Or DID it?

Vijay claims it's because of his cleverness - he says that when he folded the paper with Peanut's name on it to drop it into the box, he didn't quite fold it all the way - so that it would 'kind of stick out and whoever was drawing the lots would be compelled to pick this paper up'.

Balderdash, I said. It was my cheque-thing!
Nonsense, he said. It was his paper-folding thing.

We argued all the way back home. But we held hands and we were both. very. happy.

My everloving husband

2010-09-07T20:36:00.000-07:00

...is always finding new ways to express his feelings for me.

The month of July

2010-08-29T08:42:00.000-07:00

The month of July 2010 was one of the toughest periods I've ever had to face.
This pregnancy in any case had been a turbulent one. The first few months were bad - it was surprising for me, considering everyone always said a second pregnancy is significantly easier. Of course, what we didn't know at the time was that it was a twin pregnancy.
The week that we discovered it was a twin pregnancy was Week 20 - we went through a range of emotions, from shock to elation to worry to fear - and almost complete despair when we were wrongly told that it was a monoamniotic pregnancy - which usually means a survival rate of 50% for the babies. A final ultrasound by the best ultrasonologist in Delhi cleared that one up.
The last few weeks of the pregnancy were difficult in a way I hadn't experienced before. The babies were growing quite well for twins, but their combined weight was bearing down on me and hurting me, and it was all terribly uncomfortable.
But all this was a breeze compared to the month of July.
The reason I am writing this post is to remind myself of a few things that I learnt during that time.
So on the 2nd of July, I had an ultrasound that showed that it was unlikely that I deliver before end July.
The next day, I saw that I was bleeding - it was 8.30 a.m. on a Saturday, and I had been woken up by Peanut, who sort of kicked me awake and then went back to sleep herself. I went into the bathroom, saw the blood and told Vijay. Two hours later, we were in the hospital. The doctor said she would like to do a C-sec, though she had always said till now that we should try for a normal delivery.
In the OT, the anasthesia started to work, but suddenly I started to panic. I felt like I couldn't breathe and felt extremely claustrophobic and frightened. I started chanting the names of my three babies and calmed myself down. A short while later, I could feel a weight being lifted out of my body, and the doctor held up Pickle and said 'It's a boy'. One minute later, I felt some more weight being lifted out, and the doctor held up Papad and repeated 'It's a boy'. They were brought close to my face, and I felt a huge gush of relief. But I could easily see how tiny they were, and it was scary. They were 2.1 kgs each.
The next few days were tough. The babies were in the nursery and I was on bedrest. After the first day, I started to go and visit them every three hours to feed them. My doctors weren't happy with this, but the neonatologist was adamant about not sending them to my room due to the risk of infection. I was taken there on a wheelchair each time and each time, everybody would stare at me, and check to see if I still had my legs. I made a game out of it soon, and would stare back and remark loudly to Vijay - 'look at him! look at her!' - and even count out loud all the people who were staring at me. '1...2...3...oh, look another, 4...'. It was funny. For a while.
The babies had jaundice. Common enough. But the levels that Pickle were reaching were not common. His bilirubin count reached 18.5 one day, and they prepared him for a blood transfusion, because above 20 means possibility of brain damage. So it was terribly scary.
He was under phototherapy for many days. Seeing him lying there like that, naked under a bright white light, always managing to struggle and pull off his blindfold - and my being unable to breastfeed him for a couple of days - was really awful.
In the meantime, my condition wasn't improving. The pain in my abdomen continued. I developed a fever. Basically, there was something wrong and I was constantly on antibiotics.
Finally, after 10 days in the hospital, we were discharged. I was still not well. Antibiotics continued at home through IV - but an ultrasound then showed the large blood clot inside that was pressing against various organs. Two days later, I was readmitted to another hospital and a surgery was carried out on the 16th of July - a mere 13 days after the C-section to remove the clot.
My sister-in-law - Vijay's eldest sister - performed the surgery. Before the surgery, she had got various tests carried out, which included an MRI. I wasn't prepared for what it would be like and when I was inside the machine, with the loud noise, and my nose anyway half-blocked as usual, I started to panic again. I never realized I am actually semi-claustrophobic.
Anyway, after the surgery, this time under General anasthesia, I woke up in a lot of pain and screamed for my husband. He was brought there and I was crying, for a variety of reasons. After this surgery, the pain in my abdomen was almost completely gone, but I was terribly weak.
During all this time, I had periods of hallucination. I could feel myself blacking out. I was too weak to go to the bathroom by myself or bathe. Through all this, Vijay never left my side and tended to me and basically nursed me back to health. My mother, sister and the rest of family were all there too but Vijay was unbelievable. I really lucked out with this marriage. Must have done something right sometime. Must have been in a previous birth, don't remember doing anything that great in this one!
However, this time round, the twins were admitted in the hospital with us. It was great to have them with us in the room - but it was also not great because it was far more tiring to manage everything. Well, I was only feeding them, Vijay - with help from my mother when she visited, and of course, his brother Ajay- did everything else. But by this time, I had been in the hospital for so long that I was even more depressed, cranky and overall emotional. Plus, the first surgery had the carrot of removing two little babies and bringing them into my life. The second surgery was to get out a not-that-attractive 200 grams of clot plus 200 ml of blood. It gave me huge relief, but the infection continued for many days after that, too.
A hundred injections. Being away from the babies. Pickle's jaundice. The pain. Being away from Peanut. Being away from home. Blood tests, urine tests. Being on a catheter. Having a drain pipe attached to me, which drained out the remnant blood after the surgery into a bag that I had to carry around with me even once I was able to walk. The hallucinations. The frightening feeling of almost blacking out. The yelling at members of my family who were only always trying to help. My abusing the doctors as I came out of GA. This and much, much more. All this was the month of July.
And then I became better. I am home now. Things are still terribly chaotic because Vijay's mother is very, very unwell. I don't have full time help for the twins yet. We are a lot of people staying in a 2-bedroom house. But still. I have my health back. It is amazing to feel healthy.
Simple things mean so much now - Being able to walk around without pain and discomfort. Being able to feed the babies in the comfort of my own home. Being back with Peanut and spending loads of extra time with her to make sure she adjusts well to the babies. Being able to just breathe in and out. Fingering my surgery scar and feeling it heal. Not having that damned canula stuck to my hand. Being able to take a long, hot shower. Eating a Peanut butter and Jam sandwich instead of hospital food. Not having to remember which antibiotic to take when and forgetting what 'OD, BD and TDS' mean. Not worrying about bilirubin counts and other blood counts. Not having IV antibiotics three times a day. Taking a walk in the park. Lying next to my husband instead of alone on a hospital bed with him on the uncomfortable attendant's sofa. These and a hundred other things.
And yet, it's so easy to forget what it was like, and to get bogged down by the various daily issues that we face. This is just an attempt to try and remember one simple thing: without your health, you have very little. So I try and celebrate a little everyday now, even if it's only a couple of minutes in my head of thanking the universe that today I have my health. It's an upredictable life. So basically try to be less stupid about letting the little problems overwhelm you, and just remember how good it feels to feel this way.
That, and the fact that I have a great family, especially a great husband, mother, brother-in-law and sister-in-law.
Just lucky, I guess.
So that's what July 2010 was trying to tell me.

I'm blogging!

2010-08-28T09:51:00.001-07:00

Yess!! I have time!! TIME!! I can do this! All three kids are asleep - finally! I am super-mom.

Chalo, got to go now. I hear crying.

I think it might be me.

Hello there People!

2010-08-19T21:17:00.001-07:00

So here we are, then!

We discriminate. Period.

2010-08-19T02:23:00.000-07:00

I really hate to say it, but it's really ingrained into our thinking.
Fair is Lovely.
I always believed that I was someone who would never support this view. I was one of those people who would tend to get indignant at fairness cream advertising that showed success and happiness being achieved by a woman's skin becoming a few (many) shades lighter.
But recent events have made me realize that in all this discussion, there's less black and white and more shades of grey. And some amount of hypocricy too.
A couple of years ago, when I was on a consumer visit with some young girl's family in Mumbai - This family was not a very well off one at all, and I was quite interested to spend the day with them and observe how they lived. At one point, the young girl's little sister came home from school, took one look at me and said (in Marathi, translated for me a minute later) 'This lady is very fair - she must know good english'.
Not that I am 'very fair' in any case, but I was truly surprised at her reaction, attributing knowledge of english and presumably many other things to my physical appearance. It only reinforced my belief that we need to somehow stop this discrimination.
But then Pickle and Papad came along.
Pickle, the one who has been through much with serious jaundice, prolonged periods in phototherapy in the nursery and many, many injections for the first few days of his life. Pickle is the dark one. The black sheep.
Papad, not only looks like a tiny Peanut and therefore has always been easier to relate to, is also the fairer one.
I looked at the two of them and felt bad - they are supposed to be identical twins! So why this difference, anyway? Pickle would always be compared to Papad and remarks would always be made about it.
I found myself wishing that they were more alike, at least in terms of skin colour - they may grow to be more alike as the months pass, everyone knows that babies look very different at different ages. I thought, why doesn't Papad just become darker with the passage of time! That will solve things.
And then, he did! For a few days in the middle, Papad turned quite dark and his colour was actually identical to Pickle's. This didn't last though, and now he's back to being the 'fairer one'.
But the thing was, when he turned darker, I looked at the two of them and found myself actually wishing that Pickle had become fairer instead of Papad becoming darker. Isn't that just sad? But it's the truth.
Sometimes the truth doesn't make you feel good at all.
The thing is, I relate a lot more to Pickle. He's the 'middle child' like me - older by one minute than his younger, smaller, fairer brother! He's been through so much. I actually feel very connected to him. He's somehow different from the others. He's resilient, he's a fighter. Despite his poor start, he's actually gained more weight than his brother, and become very round and cute very quickly. He's more difficult, sure, appears to also have colic, but in general, I can tell he's going to be the tough one.
Yesterday, a very wise and well-meaning close relative looked at him and said 'Bahut pyaara hai. But Papad is cuter, because he is fairer'.
I was quite shocked to hear this from him. The words were right out there, hanging in the air between us. I laughed incredulously and said 'You can't really have just said that. That's so discriminatory'.
He laughed, too but didn't really take it back. He just added 'Papad is also the smaller, younger one. You somehow feel more for the younger one'.
I said 'Not me. I feel for the middle child. It's tough'.

We left it at that. But while I feel very blessed to have such beautiful little baby boys, this is one thing I am not looking forward to - and I do hope they start to actually have close-to-identical skin colour. Even if they don't, that's okay. Pickle can be the tall, dark and handsome one - like his father.

In the meantime, we lovingly refer to him as our Gulab Jamun, Papad as our Rasgulla.

And Peanut as the Rasmalai.

Yummy little ones.

Sweet Exhaustion

2010-08-08T10:29:00.000-07:00

Vijay is up till 4 a.m. almost everyday handling the babies. After that, till about 10 a.m. is my shift.
At one point, Vijay remarked 'Honey, this Zone defense thing isn't working - maybe we should try Man-to-Man instead'.
(We both used to play basketball - in our colleges - and even after we got married. Before the many children).
I was thinking, Fine, I'll say I'll take Papad, but he quickly added 'I'll take Papad'.
It's pretty obvious Pickle is the more difficult baby to handle.
So anyway, the Man-to-man thing didn't work out either, so we're back to 'Zone' and continue to take them on in shifts.

Vijay also has configured the sleeping arrangement - one bassinet near the bed and one other little sleeping basket on the bed. Initially the bassinet was further away from us, by the window, but eventually, he brought it closer and closer to his own bed as it's easier to just pick up the wailing baby from it.
However, even the most patient man has his breaking point.
Vijay (lying back exhausted, listening to the sound of Pickle starting to work himself up again) : Should I move the bassinet one more time?
Me: (sleepily)...uhhh...sure...to where? (wondering how much closer he can bring it to our bed)
Vijay (gritting his teeth, pulling his pillow over his head): To where we can't hear him anymore....

Seriously, though. Teen bachhon ki ma??

2010-07-30T02:45:00.000-07:00

Seriously? Me?

The thing about having blogged for a few years now is that the blog serves as a reminder of what kind of a person you were and have now become. The time I started writing this, I was the kind of person who couldn't understand why anyone would ever have kids. Now, while I'm not exactly the opposite in terms of saying I can't understand why anyone would choose not to have kids, I certainly do understand it. And how.

Anyway, Peanut turned 3 years old a couple of days back and we had a little party for her. She cut a Noddy cake and was generally quite happy even though it wasn't a kiddy party - her two cousins being around is a party for her anyway.

She's at an age where she's a complete mixture of angelic and sweet behavior and complete and utter defiance. Too late one is realizing that the last few months of pregnancy and the last month of being away from her have resulted in lack of enough routine and attention in terms of instilling some sort of discipline. Well, she's hardly devoid of all form of discipline but it's not been enough. Her eating and sleeping and playing routines are completely awry resulting in really late bedtimes, crankiness, too much TV (and Vijay's iPhone - man, can that kid operate it or what!) and will take some time to correct . But I'm at a stage where I know I need to pick my battles, so will have to take it slow.

But she is incredibly sweet in many ways and very sharp about observing and picking up things, and sometimes exhibits such great understanding and maturity that I'm only left marveling at her and hope that somehow these qualities don't get inhibited by anything that we do. Overall, I think she's going to be okay.

It's clear she's going to be a great big sister - she's already very fond of her brothers and kisses them often, giggling at their funny faces and noises and looking quite stricken when one of them starts to cry.

The next few months are going to be very, very interesting to say the least. And did I mention that the concerns now about getting proper help to take care of the kids are now striking me hard? I have a really good part timer who is currently staying till about 7 p.m. to help and she's actually brilliant - she's been my cook for the last two years so there is also that basic level of trust with her. Unfortunately, like so many in her situation, she is saddled with a husband (with the usual drinking problem) who is shouting at her about being away from home and is 'forbidding' her to work here for too long, so she may not be able to keep it up beyond a couple of weeks. So what is someone to do?

Some practical advice here would be much appreciated. Please do share your experiences with help through agencies - would really help me. I've been lucky enough to have the K to help with Peanut but now she is barely able to manage her and the twins are going to be far more work. I need to fix this in the next few months before going back to work - so yeah, the word would be 'help!?' right about now.

Suddenly Mother of Three

2010-07-25T06:46:00.000-07:00

We finally returned home with Pickle and Papad, a couple of days ago.

I was in the hospital with the two of them and the ever-loyal Vijay for quite a few days. I started to feel distinctly better and was subsequently discharged.

The second day after being home, it turned out I had developed another infection, and it is still ongoing. However, I'm hoping that this is the last leg of this whole illness affair.

In the meantime, it feels good to be home. The first couple of days weren't great because I was unwell and because Peanut was behaving like...well, a 3 year old who is suddenly saddled with the reality of little twin brothers, just like I was behaving like a (half-crazed, post-double-surgery) 30 year old who is suddenly saddled with the reality of little twin sons. Basically, I ended up smacking her bottom and still come dangerously close to doing it whenever she has a meltdown. I know she doesn't know any better and needs time to adjust and am trying my best to control it and am digging into the deepest untapped layers of my being, where I'm hoping lie hitherto untapped reserves of patience and tolerance. Somewhere deep, deep within.

It's obviously a round the clock job - well, a single baby is a round the clock job. Two babies are ...what, round two clocks? One wakes up hungry, the other wakes up hungry a few minutes later while I'm feeding the first one; they do synchronized potties; they cry in unison. Even when they don't cry/poop/feed in unison, one still doesn't get much rest because you've finished with one when the other starts up! Surprisingly though, I think we're doing pretty well now - it doesn't seem new, for one - having Peanut 3 years ago was quite an eye-opener. Secondly, it's miles better than being apart from them, as we were for the first ten days when they were under observation in the nursery; and it's better than the last ten days when we were all admitted in the hospital together, and the four of us were away from Peanut. The very fact that I've found a few minutes to blog says something, doesn't it?

So let me tell you about my new sons.

First of all, they are identical twin boys, a fairly rare variety as far as statistics go apparently. They don't look quite identical though - Pickle is darker - he was at birth and this was compounded by extensive phototherapy for his jaundice - and his nose is more like Vijay's - while Papad looks more like me, and in fact, more like a miniature version of Peanut - we often joke that he is her twin, 3 years later! I don't quite know how it works in terms of their starting to grow more alike as the months pass, but time will tell. I did double check with the doctors to confirm they were actually identical, though - it's actually a blessing to be able to tell them apart easily at the moment. There are still times when I have asked, when being handed one to breastfeed him 'Who is he?' in a zapped manner. Vijay also has been known to observe them closely and them remark with a beaming proud smile 'Bilkul twins jaise lagte hai' ( roll of eyes).
Pickle is the older one, and he's also the one who is growing bigger faster - he's already almost 2.5 kilos while Papad is about 2.2 kilos. They were both born a minute apart, and were 2.1 kilos at 35 weeks, 3 days.

Personality wise, and yes, it's never too early to start labelling them, is it - Pickle appears to be slightly crankier, and has already started exhibiting a strong preference for the phenomenon known as 'Godi', refusing to just lie still. Papad is more peaceful and lies back and looks around interestedly at things around him, although he can probably see just about the end of his nose.
They are both terribly cute and ugly little creatures and so, so very small - Peanut was 3.5 kilos at birth and so having such tiny ones around is a bit new - but we've already adjusted to it and handle them fairly well. I still bristle inwardly when someone remarks 'Abhi to bahut kamzor hai' ( who likes hearing that?) but have surprisingly not reacted to it much, and even the inward bristling passes after a moment.

Vijay's brother has been a key support during this time. He had flown in from the U.S a few weeks back and the timing couldn't have been more perfect -for us, that is. He has been helping babysit almost continuously and changing diapers, making up formula bottles and the works like a seasoned pro - which he is, considering his younger son just turned two this month. He's been amazing, as has been Vijay, and of course, the rest of the family. What do people do without family!? It's great to have them around.

Back to the twins. Papad, while being the more peaceful one, sleeps way too much and has to be coaxed into waking up to feed often enough. He is also the guy with the biggest range of dirty expressions, although both of them are pretty good at conveying the emotion 'What the hell are you guys doing with me? Are you seriously my parents? Is this seriously my life?' when troubled enough.

I am still marvelling at the fact that I have 3 children. I had never thought it would ever happen.
Twins, especially. Who knew? Who thought? Not even my dumbass ultrasonologist who informed me of the single fetus at 12 weeks, who was doing well.

Either ways, twins are a curiosity for most people and bring out really offensive behavior. There was this 'mother's room' at the first hospital where I would go to breastfeed the kids every few hours, while they were in the nursery. One day there were these Punjabi aunties who were so tickled by the fact of the twins, and so fascinated watching me feed them simultaneously and expertly that they forgot their own daughter who was struggling to breastfeed her baby - and had the nerve to call out to their waiting son-in-law/son outside 'Amit, Camera lao, inki photo kheechte hai! Dekho, do-do ko kaise pila rahi hai'. I was seriously shocked by this - no matter how cute and endearing my own husband had found the sight of my feeding the two of them, he didn't really seriously contemplate recording the moment for posterity on film, and here were these shameless strangers wanting to do the same, without the thought of even asking - although, even asking would have been bad enough!

Basically, lots has happened in the last month, but clearly I'm not going to be able to write one coherent post about it, so look forward to more instalments over the coming few days whenever I'm able to snatch the time.

See ya!

Edited to add: No, they didn't end up taking the picture. Because thankfully 'Amit' had left his camera behind in the hospital room. Even if he had sent it in, the fat Punjabi cows would have not got a picture, but a couple of black eyes courtesy Y. I didn't put on 24 kilos during this pregnancy without gaining a bit of strength too.
( 14 kilos are already gone of the same though - Yay! Irrelevant side note, but it makes me feel good)

Recuperation

2010-07-20T08:12:00.000-07:00

So it turns out C-secs aren't supposed to be so difficult, normally.
I was really wondering what people had been talking about 'I was up on my feet within a week/3 days/24 hours' - I was thinking, what's wrong with me? Why is the pain not going away? Why is this fever persisting? What's going on? Is it my threshold level for pain that is just lower than others.
Turns out not. Turns out clot. Hey, that rhymes.
A big clot developed and was surgically removed a few days back. I had been home for just about two days when I had to be readmitted to the hospital.
For someone who has never had a surgery ever in 30 years of life, and has otherwise been in pretty good health throughout, the last 3 weeks have been quite a learning experience. 2 surgeries. About a 100 needles. And lots of other things.
But I'm on the recovery path now, and hope to be home again in a couple of days.
As before, the kids are doing fine, and that's the most important thing. I just want to get back home and be with Peanut so that our family of five can start life together.
Yeah. Quite a ride.
Cheers.

Quick One

2010-07-14T13:32:00.000-07:00

Just to thank everyone for the comments on the previous post welcoming Pickle and Papad to the world.

The good news is that they are doing okay as per their first post-hospital doctor visit. Will repeat after a week.

The not-so-good news is that my infection is not so hot and am being readmitted to the hospital tomorrow.

However, here's hoping for the best and that I'll be back soon and that I will not be away from my many babies for too long now.

Ciao for now. And Thanks again.

Hello to Pickle and Papad!

2010-07-12T02:13:00.000-07:00

It's been quite a couple of weeks.

An emergency C-section at 35 weeks 3 days.

Two beautiful little baby boys.

Jaundice.

An infection after my surgery.

Waiting for release from the hospital.

But yes...two beautiful little baby boys. Beautiful to me and Vijay, that is. All four of us have been in the hospital for over ten days now. Little Peanut has been at home for a week with Vijay's parents and brother. We've never been away from her that long.

And today we're ready to go home. So yayy!

Their jaundice will need to be monitored carefully but the doctors say it should be all fine now. So ... as before. Give us the good vibes, people!

And thanks for all the good wishes in advance, just in case I can't log on again for a while.

Be Careful What You Say to Peanut

2010-06-29T22:48:00.001-07:00

...because almost 3-year olds may take things literally.

I was snuggling up to her last night and trying to express how I felt about her, and thought I would use terms she would understand.

Y: 'Peanut...I love you...more than I love chocolate, you know? And icecream...and...'
Peanut (eyes wide open with alarm): 'NO, Mama!'
I was taken aback by this reaction, until she continued

'You have to NOT eat me!'

Waiting...

2010-06-27T21:41:00.001-07:00

Yes, this seems about right. Even from the last pregnancy, I remember the last few weeks being the most frustrating.
I have now completed 35 weeks, and while twins are considered full term at 37 weeks and most twins are apparently delivered before then, I may even go close to 40 weeks (gasp) which will mean end of July.
My doctor says she'll do an internal exam tomorrow to get a sense as to how long, but frankly, I don't believe here, because I remember her doing that 3 years ago and saying 'by 11th July, definitely!' and towards end of July, there I was, still overdue.
Anyway, the upside of all this is that I will be spending more time with Peanut. She's a bundle of laughs to be around now because she's talking and saying all sorts of things, including:

* ( When Vijay and I are hugging and she is dutifully trying to unentangle us, and we're frustrating her by linking up our arms again once she's unentangling our legs and vice versa)
'Thass not funny!'

* (Another time when Vijay and I were standing in front of her and smiling down at her, with his arms around me, she suddenly brightens up with an idea)
'I kin take a picture of you!'

* ( When her favorite uncle, Ajay draws a big fat man on her little slate, and asks her to guess what it is)

' Thass Mama, she got a fat tummy'

* (After biting into my cotton skirt and tearing a small piece off with her teeth, and seeing the horrified expression on my face, which is wiped out by her immediately following words)

'It was a mistake, Mama'

* ( After telling her Masi to put on the Annie DVD for her, and being told that they would have to ask me first whether it was okay)

'But Maasi! Why don't we just ask YOU?'

* ( After unsuccessfully trying to persuade me to let her watch TV in the living room at night, since it's 'dark and time for us to be in the bedroom')

'I gottan idea…ask what your idea is? ( I ask her what it is, curiosity getting the better of me) ...The idea is... let’s get Daddy to bring TV here in this room so we can watch Ceebeebies'

So I guess if I focus on this stuff, the waiting isn't going to be that bad.

Another Post on My Marketing Blog

2010-06-25T09:46:00.000-07:00

I'm actually quite kicked that I have written more than one post. Ha ha.

Read here, if you're interested.

Oh, the URL is marketingsadirtyjob.blogspot.com.

Appropriate, eh?

Happy Birthday, Bro!

2010-06-24T10:23:00.000-07:00

I have this elder brother called Abhi. I also have a cousin called Abhi and a best pal named Abhi. Many Abhi's in my life. Guess what neither of the twins are going to be called?

But a lot of people who know me express surprise when I mention my brother. I guess I don't talk about him that much.

He's three and a half years older than me, just the same age difference that I have with my sister. But I spent a lot more time with my sister in my growing up years than with him. Frankly, we didn't really get along as kids. In fact, I remember glowering at anyone who made any passing reference to any resemblance between us.

Thankfully, there's this little concept called 'Growing up', which we're still in the process of doing. And I must therefore say a few things I've never said before. The reason I'm doing this in public on my blog is to make sure it doesn't go overboard and get all senty, which we both would hate.

So here goes:

* I really admire my brother for how responsible an individual he is. After my father passed on, he sort of seemed to grow up overnight and took care of a lot of things.

* He is really caring about the family. Despite being so far away, in England, it's pretty clear how much he cares to be around when it's really important.

* I think it's fantastic that he always knew what he wanted to be, and followed that dream to become a doctor. One of the oldest, noblest professions. I on the other hand, am in Marketing. Bah!

* He's a great father, and seems to have a way with kids in general. Is quite the fond Abhi Mamu, although he hardly gets to see Peanut. I'm shipping the twins to him, though, so that will make up for it.

* I think that's enough. He still manages to irritate me at times, and I think that will hold true till we're in our eighties.

But I guess what I'm trying to say is that I love him. Aaarrrggghhh!

Happy Birthday, Abhi. Big sloppy kiss on the cheek.

My Marketing Blog

2010-06-22T00:27:00.000-07:00

Have finally started posting on my Marketing Blog. Let's see where it goes, hey?

So where are the Twin Moms?

2010-06-17T02:27:00.000-07:00

...by which of course, I mean mothers of twins.

In general, it's really been hard to find good resources for twins. There aren't that many books that I've been able to find here, and even online resources have let me down. For one, do you know that in Babycenter, you can't even sign up as a Mom pregnant with twins? Ridiculous!

I mean, I know we're a minority, but still...there are just such few websites I've found that give you a proper week-by-week development update for twins, especially identical ones. Double bah!

So just do me a favor, huh? If you're a mom of twins who blogs, or know of such moms, could you please leave a link to direct me to the appropriate blogs? Would be much obliged.

I know a couple of such moms have already commented on my recent posts, will dig them out, but repitition will not be minded ( mound? nah...but minded doesn't sound right either...damn...should avoid the passive always).

Thanks muchly!

Love

Y

I'm only happy when it rains...

2010-06-13T18:18:00.000-07:00

I was so tired of just sitting around at home that I insisted that Vijay take me to Landmark yesterday for some browsing.

I also put my foot down about not taking Peanut along. For one thing, everytime we go there with her, she picks out DVDs, toys and books ( based on whatever colors strike her fancy at that point of time) and most of our time is spent running around behind her, replacing the items. Although the last time I gave in, and let her take home this tiny Mickey Mouse, and it's really cute because she puts it to bed every night next to her. Consequently, we are now four people on one double bed already. Pickle and Papad can so go get their own rooms!

I digress.

Anyway, so the two of us went off to Landmark and I was looking forward to just being able to browse, and enjoy myself, pick out a nice read or two, you know, the usual thing?

About three steps into Landmark, I asked Vijay 'Er, is it really hot in here?'.

He shivered for effect and told me 'No. It's really cold with the AC and all'.

Uh-oh, I thought.

Sure enough, after wandering listlessly through the Indian Writing section (and seeing four names of people I personally know, two of whom I personally can't stand, right next to Rohinton Mistry's Such a Long Journey), and failing to find anything on Twins in the Parenting section, but attracting enough smirks simply by virtue of standing there looking like I am about to give birth any second, I figured it was time to go home.

I finally spotted Vijay, thanks to his 6 feet 2, browsing blissfully somewhere in the non-fiction section and told him I was ready to go.

'Already?' He said. 'I thought you didn't want to take Peanut so that you would have time to browse?'

'It's HOT' I said, weaving unsteadily.

'No it's not', he said but took my hand. He felt my clammy palms. 'You're sweating!'

We left, with our meager purchases. Clearly, I have figured out how to save money at Landmark. Never mind the other expenses that come along with pregnancy...and babies!

However, when we got outside the basement parking, we discovered it was raining! Beautiful, slanting rain. Driving home, my mood lifted considerably. When we parked, I waddled out into the rain, which was by now just a drizzle. I remembered the time a year or so back when we took a very befuddled Peanut out into pouring rain, and had a blast getting totally drenched. We're great parents, like that!

Next year, going to hopefully be five people doing that. Three taller ones having a blast, and two little befuddled ones.

I love the rain.

So Giddily Happy.

2010-06-05T03:30:00.000-07:00

...that's me being sarcastic. Again.
And by the way, as for those who really believe 'Sarcasm is the lowest form of wit' - it's probably just that they don't have the gift. And I challenge them to tell me about a higher form of wit than sarcasm. Go on!
Anyway, I'm giddily happy because I think I've cracked almost all possible pregnancy problems between my two pregnancies:

* Acidity and heartburn - check
* Breathlessness - of course
* Backaches - yes indeedy-do
* Bleeding Gums - got 'em
* Blurred Vision - whassat..? can't see...
* Bustline increase - well, everything's increased...it's like 20 kilos, people!
* Carpal Tunnel Syndrome - just developing it. Can't blog much!
* Clumsiness - can I blame it on the pregnancy? oooh...
* Complexion changes - yes sir! Freckles as never before happening
* Depression - err...well...why not, I say!
* Fainting and Dizziness - Dizziness, I got. Fainting, I got not.
* Fatigue - absolutely. In fact, I can't possibly go on right to the end of the alphabet, I got upto only F!

Here's a promise from me to me. No more whining about how fat/uncomfortable/pregnant I am for the next few weeks. Just focussing on the positive side of life. Positivity. Spiritual self-healing. Meditative thoughts shared.

I guess I'll be back after 6 weeks or so then. See ya!

Peanut Hates School

2010-05-29T20:43:00.000-07:00

When I put Peanut into her playschool last year, she had a settling period of a few weeks. She was barely two at the time, but after she settled in, it was mostly no issue getting her there for a few hours everyday. I would drop her on my way to work, and it was pretty cool.

Then, a few weeks ago, the protests began. She started informing me 'The gates are closed' very firmly, and made up all sorts of excuses to not go.

Her teachers usually write progress updates as short notes in her diary, and a day too late, I noticed that the timing for her 'Swimming pool day has been changed' because 'She has been moved to another class'. Another class? Why would they do that, I thought. That day, I went and checked with them about it.

Turns out Peanut is one of the few 'advanced' kids who was developing faster than the others and was therefore automatically shifted to a class which was a few months ahead. Unlike a couple of the other kids of this type, she didn't kick up a bloody racket and therefore they assumed she is settling in fine over there and just merrily kept her there.

Ummm. Isn't this the kind of thing that should usually be discussed with a parent, I thought.

I informed them that the changeover probably wasn't going as smoothly as they thought, considering that she now was disliking going to school. She was used to the the kids in her class, and had made a couple of close friends there over the last year, and the other big plus was that her fantastic teacher from the previous year had also moved into the higher grade when she moved a few months back. I requested that she be put back to her old class.

They made a fuss and tried to talk me out of it. They insisted it was for her own development. Would eventually help her when she went for admission to the 'big school'. Each child had to be given time to settle in. I felt a bit guilty, a parent who was holding her child back. I said maybe we'd give it another couple of days. After all, a kid does need to face changes in life and has to adjust anyway, I told myself reluctantly. Also, I knew at least part of my reason for wanting a shift was my personal bias for the old teacher and the slight dislike for the new teacher.

The next couple of days were still an issue getting Peanut to school. She started saying 'That boy she pushed me'...and 'That uncle is bad uncle'...and all sorts of things, including at night, dreading sleep. I had no idea if the issues were related, but I knew this wasn't working out right.

Vijay and I went back there again to talk to the principal-in-charge - she listened but was mouthing pretty much the same words about 'giving a child the space to adjust'. While we were talking to her, all the kids were outside singing something in some sort of morning assembly, right outside the office. I saw Peanut standing there in a corner, in line with her classmates while her old classmates and teacher merrily sang along at the other end. She looked around confusedly, and her face began to crumple, and her eyes filled up with tears. She finally caught sight of me staring from the principal's office and the tears started streaming down her face. I pointed this out to the principal, she looked out and immediately went and brought her into the office. While Peanut sobbed into Vijay's shirt, the principal agreed they would put her back.

The issue was that there were now only a few days left for school to give out for the summer holidays. We still had to face reluctance taking Peanut to school in the morning ( reluctance is a mild word), although she was happier when she came back. But the episode ruined our chances for Happy Summer Camp Time - as soon as school ended, summer camp in the same premises - with the new teacher supervising, unfortunately - were to start up. I had enrolled her for the first two weeks, but I think she ended up going only for six days. So now I've given up, and she's going to be at home till the 4th of July.

I just think that that's about the time the twins are coming, and there's going to be plenty to adjust to in any case. Not really looking forward to re-selling the idea of school to her. Even now, after a week of not going to either school/summer camp, she still starts blubbering at the idea and says 'I no want to no go to no school' and reaffirms 'The gates are closed, Mama'. I've told her she's not going for a while. But eventually, of course, she has to. And all this is before the saga of the 'big school', which I've merrily put off thinking about, even begins. This parenting stuff is great.

Anyway, I somehow had a feeling about some of these teachers. While the playschool overall is great, I've heard some of them being a little snappish with the kids. Very...teacher-like. Not warm, like the old teacher, who really is a sweetheart and who at the last PTA meeting, actually welled up while talking affectionately about the development of the kids in her class in general.

But net-net, about putting her back into the old class? All my qualms disappeared when I was looking through her recent craft work, which she apparently 'diligently and quietly' did in her new class. As against the usually encouraging and overly-enthusiastic remarks about her progress from her old teacher, the new teacher had tartly remarked on one poorly scrawled on drawing 'Needs to improve her coloring skills'.

I actually laughed out loud in disbelief. Needs to improve her coloring skills? Really? Towards what end? Eventually restoring the Mona Lisa? So what should I do? Tutor her painstakingly myself, smacking her hand everytime she wants to colour an elephant orange or her crayon goes out of line? Or maybe just send her to Special Coloring School?

Yeah, give me unrealistic and overenthusiastic and warm, anyday. I'll take that over 'advanced'. After all, the kid isn't even three years old yet!

Clearly, there's enough of that crap coming up in life later.

Bah!

So, Due Any Day Now?

2010-05-26T20:35:00.001-07:00

...umm...well, not really. It's only the 30th week or something. Another 6-8 weeks to go, one hopes - but yes, I am about as big as I was with Peanut when I delivered. Gah!

Big, clumsy, uncoordinated and irritable. More than my usual self, I feel. No wonder they've been giving me subtle hints at work about staying at home and working from there. Subtle hints including 'It's embarassing to see you in office'...and 'Go Home Now!'. Whatever, people. Be careful or the fat lady sits on you.

Of course, there's no point in whining about it, but the fact is, I'm running out of people to whine to so I might as well whine on the blog for just a minute or two. I recently saw some videos of myself from months ago where I'm running around in a pair of fitting jeans and T-shirt at 58 kilos. Now, at almost double that weight ( oh all right, it just fees like it), the only thing I can actually wear out of the house are my good ol' Mom's salwar kameez's.

I'm going to have to keep up the weight gain over the next few weeks so that Pickle and Papad grow properly. Thankfully at the latest ultrasound a week or so back, they had both grown well - the month before Pickle was substantially smaller than Papad - but now, Pickle is the bigger one. We were quite surprised by this development and I was examining the previous ultrasound reports with some curiosity to make sure we hadn't mixed them up earlier, but Vijay mildly informed me '' Confusing them may be a lifelong issue anyway'' so I gave up.

So yes, the most important thing is that they grow well, and therefore the cribbing about the weight gain ( and the pain and the discomfort and the heat and how nobody including Vijay will ever know what it feels like...ooops!) must stop. Therefore, stopping.

(Thin People Piss Me Off).

Pickle & Papad

2010-04-29T08:05:00.000-07:00

In a pregnancy which you believe is going pretty normally, you don't really expect to be told in your 20th week - halfway through for those of you not so quick with the numbers - that there are not one but two babies inside you.

Quite a roller coaster it is then, and the Highlights include:
''Here's one head...here's the other''...
''What? My baby has two heads?''

''Of course, it's a twin pregnancy. Who did your earlier ultrasound?" ( tone implying it must have been some incompetent buffoon)"
"It was YOU, Doc"

....more mumbling and digging out of earlier ultrasound records and explanations of how ''this almost never happens"

...and followed by ''You're not going to cry, are you, beta?"

...and numerous other less funny incidents including your regular doctor going ballistic on you, saying things like

Ultrasound waale pagal to nahin ho gaye??....

Ek minute, Mind if I sit down, I'm reeling from the shock (?!?)...

Ab hum kya karen...?

Gee, I don't know doc. Kya karen?

...and even less funny ones like the scare that they are in the same amniotic sac ( they are not, a later ultrasound confirms), that they have Down's syndrome ( the test apparently has no meaning for twins, again recommended by our super competent doc and pooh-poohed by others)...stuff I'm too tired to even go into and am past caring about.

So at the end of it all, how do I feel, a month or so after the discovery of an extra baby?

Thrilled, frankly.

Tired, yes. Very heavy, yes. In some pain and discomfort, yes. But all that's quite irrelevant.

Three kids.

Wow.

Anyway, task is now to keep them inside for at least another 8 weeks - so have been advised taking off work from Mid-May. Am thinking will listen to the doctors this time round, kind of important.

Net-net: send good vibes my way, eh? I need all the good luck I can get!

Finally: Papad was picked because the other options were -

Pickle and Pretzel
Pickle and Popcorn
Pickle and Parantha
Pickle and Pepper
Pickle and Patty
...I forget the others, but they were pretty forgettable.

Yes, they are identical.

Goodbye for now and remember... let the good vibes flow...

More tales of the Harassed

2010-04-25T10:12:00.000-07:00

Peanut: I'm KING of the Jungle.
Me: Well, I'm QUEEN of the Jungle, then.
We both look over at Vijay - 'And what are YOU, Dad?'
Vijay (extremely glumly): I think I would be the Jungle.

When your Pregnant Wife is Mad at You

2010-04-18T06:25:00.000-07:00

Phone conversation:

Husband ( Trying to make up) : Honey, would it help if I bought you a dart board and put my picture on it? Huh? Huh?

Wife (Huffily) No ! ( Brightening up suddenly) But how about you just get the darts?

Things Peanut Says

2010-03-13T19:30:00.000-08:00

Thought I'd just list a few:

* 'Mama, you cheeks soft like a bay-bee.
...and You got be-yootifool pimples'.

Yes, one of the various side effects of impending re-maternity is a return of the acne. In the form of a few bright spots on either of my cheeks - which show no hope of getting better since Peanut enjoys pawing them with her grubby paws while snuggling up to me. Oh yes, and once she broke into 'Pimples...pimples...' to the tune of 'Fimbles...Fimbles' on Ceebeebies.

* 'No, Mama, you no gorjus. Baby gorjus!'

We're kind of vain when we're dressing up in the morning for school and office. We like to look in the mirror when we're ready and admire ourselves and fight about who's more gorjus.

* 'Mama...you are so very nangu!'

Err...kind of stating the obvious when we're having a bath.

* 'Daddy, aapi-aapi karo'

Said very matter-of-factly when Vijay is pretending to be helpless and trying to get her to feed him some fruit.

*' Nappy aaya...Poo-poo pehna do'

We're trying with the potty training and keep her out of her nappy most times, but she insists on wearing it for pooping. She of course means 'Poopoo aaya, nappy pehna do' but is under a bit of stress at such times so mixes it up.

* 'My baby sister in my tummy...and he gonna come ouuut!'

Umm...Yeah. I'm glad we explained the concept of your baby brother/sister Pickle just right. Well done, Vijay and Y.

Y Gets Old

2010-02-12T02:00:00.000-08:00

30 years old. Sigh, Cry, Moan and Groan.

There, I said it. I'm finally old. It no longer matters that I'm a 'Child of the 80's' as some of my friends born in '79 refer to me. It's all downhill from here, my friends.

This was a rather unusual birthday, though. Thanks to my loving family and friends, who I think were mindful of the fact that I might get a bit depressed thinking about the fact that I'm now at the half-way mark. Mid-life, you might say.

Anyway, so Vijay got Peanut to sit with him for an hour and coaxed and cajoled her into singing 'Happy Birthday Mama' - it was really sweet. He played it at midnight for me. It began with a slightly freaky shout though. I think he had asked her to say it so many times that she got frustrated and screamed 'Hippy Burday Mamaaaaa' - he then looped it five times, but not before adding an echo to it. Then the song began, and it was heartbreakingly cute. If I could figure out a way to upload it, I would.

Then, in the morning, Peanut and I woke up really early and found that Vijay was already up. He insisted that we go for a walk together. I thought it was a good idea but didn't quite get the hurry. I asked him if it was okay if I went to the bathroom first. While I was in there, I noticed an SMS on my phone. I picked it up and it said 'God, she takes a long time in the loo. Bet she's reading a fat novel'. I looked down guiltily at my fat novel - Jeffrey Archer's 36 - and got out quickly to ask him what the hell he was up to and who that SMS was meant for. He looked a bit stricken and then quickly recovered to tell me that it was my sister, who wanted to know the plan for the day.

We stepped out for a walk, and I was in a contemplative mood. I was chatting with him as we took a few rounds of the park, and then he suggested that we go back. I said I wanted to meditate, as it was my resolution to take better care of myself in a more wholesome manner now that I was so old. He reluctantly agreed and after about 3 minutes of deep breathing, he broke into my reverie and said 'Let's go'. I had been thinking in the last 3 minutes about how I needed to make some changes and become a better person for the remaining half of my life and started to discuss it in earnest with him, the biggest being how I wished to become a kinder person and stop getting annoyed by the little things. He made a pretence of listening to me for a while and then abruptly stood up saying 'Ya ya, let's go back now'.

By this time, I was really annoyed with him and sulkily got up and followed him. In a bit, he realized I wasn't happy and immediately tried to make up for it 'Oh, yes, meditation will help you be a kinder person - I have something on my Ipod, 17 minutes of Loving Kindness, it will help you, I will lend it to you', he blathered on. I ignored him. He tried another card 'Just now, you said that you wished you didn't get annoyed at little things. Isn't this a little thing?' He beseeched me. We'd reached home and I didn't bother to answer him. I opened the door and went in, and to my shock, my sister leaped out towards me from the right - the shoe closet-type room we have there, with a 'Happy Birthday'!

I had just about recovered, managing a mild 'Oh-aah. Thanks', when there was a flash of blinding light from right in front of me, and the phenomena responsible for the same was my very own mother who materialized from one of the rooms where she had been hiding, holding a video camera to capture my stunned reaction. Scarcely had I got over this when my sister's friend A popped out from Far Left, from behind a sofa, with a digital camera that caught my open mouthed reaction. I think my exact words were 'Aa' and 'Gaa', respectively.

They then pointed out the breakfast table which had been set for me in my absence - with a sumptious breakfast of saugages, eggs, pancakes and maple syrup, brown bread - and of course, there was a dabba of alu-paranthas exclusively for Vijay. We dug in, but not before they made me open my presents, which consisted of about 18 sweaters. Very nice, they were too, and I was only sorry my birthday comes at the end of winter( and subsequently pretty happy about the continued cold-ish wave).

My sister informed me that they had been waiting in the car downstairs and then up in the house for about an hour, a consequence of my unusually early rising, Vijay's phone being unreachable, his failed attempt to get me out of the house on time, and his failed attempt to get me back into the house on time. Peanut had been excessively amused and delighted at the fact that the three of them scrambled to hide everytime a sound floated in from outside the house.

Frankly, I was really surprised. The evening surprise parties that have been a fixture for every birthday in our home for the last few years have surprisingly, ceased to surprise, although they continue to delight. This was really unexpected.

And the effort it took on the part of my mother and sister, who are not exactly early risers ( and presumably Friend A is not either) , to get up at about 6.30 a.m. and come over all the way, wait in the car, mystify the driver by saying 'Don't go near the house' when he decided to get out to stretch his legs a bit and generally make all the fuss, did a lot to make me feel loved.

(My sister also said that my mother's first reaction after they woke up was to look at her witheringly and remark 'What a dumb idea'. Shows how much effort it took, eh?)

Of course, there was the party in the evening at the club, to which I discovered Vijay had forgotten to invite some of my best friends ( I rectified this, embarassed) , but which turned out to be a roaring success primarily due to Vani's purchase of a White Board on which we all played Pictionary ( in two opposing teams - the silver hats and the pink hats) - and then a little dancing, the highlight of which was Peanut dancing with great skill to 'Ibn-e-Batuta'. Very cute. I also noticed that Vijay, my sister and A had done up the place with Balloons and Streamers, as if I was about six.

All in all, it was a fantastic birthday, and hard to remember that I was 30, and not 6. More importantly, I think I have the most amazing family and close friends ever possible.

Not bad, for the half way mark.

P.S - I guess I might as well tell you now. When I blogged earlier, I never really mentioned being an expectant mother and one day there was a post 'Oh guess what, I gave birth earlier today, here's a picture of the new baby'. Well, anyway, Peanut will be joined by Pickle, sometime in the next few months. But let's not make a big deal about it, shall we?

Music on a Wintry Evening...

2010-01-22T05:23:00.000-08:00

Yes, it's a bit late to write about it but ah wuz they-ah - at the Kailash Kher and Rahat Fateh Ali Khan concert. And I thought it was pretty darn great.

We were in the (ahem) VIP area, which extended to about a mile from the stage. About half a mile away, were my husband and I and the mother and the mother's sister, otherwise known as the masi. Anyway, it was crowded but it was beautiful (Purana Qila - had never been inside before) - and despite the cold weather, it all warmed up pretty soon and was thoroughly enjoyable.

I thought Kailash Kher was a really great performer, sang really well and had loads of energy. The best part was watching him gel with his band, who had a really cute guitarist ( the minute I mentioned this Vijay took a dislike to him - although let's face it, I had to slip on my spectacles to make out Kailash's form, so I could be pretty wrong about the cuteness of the guitarist). But the band was really talented and they looked they were having so much fun!

Kailash kept making these comments during the performance, and he made a lot of fun of those of us in the VIP area 'these VIP types are too cool to get up and cheer, etc'. I looked around me and had to agree, they were a pretty stuffy lot and kind of old. Not my mom and masi, huh! The others, the others!

Anyway, so he also made this comment at one point about Aman Ki Asha being a very noble 'cose' and a distinct and unkind murmur of mostly female laughter went up at his pronunciation. But I thought he was really sweet.

After a few songs, he made way for Rahat and I was very surprised to hear how incredibly beautiful and melodious the latter's voice sounded - he isn't quite the performer that Kailash is, but the voice, the voice. Really, truly amazing.

But to my disappointment, he ended up singing mostly songs that I knew rather than some nice Pakistani numbers - I didn't even know before this how many Bollywood movies he's sung for. Given the context of the whole concert ( Indo-Pak peace), one was hoping for a little bit of Pakistan in the whole performance but after the first couple of numbers and I think one Dumadum Mast Qualandar type, there really wasn't much. He even sang that song from Singh is King that Peanut likes (Teri Ore), and it really wasn't that hot. But the voice!

Towards the end, he invited Kailash on stage for the only song they song together - Piya re, I think. Was nice, but yeah...nice. By this time, I had abandoned my VIP status and pushed to the front, pulled up a chair in imitation of a gutsy north-eastern girl and jumped on top of it to clap along, with my husband behind me waiting to catch me when the inevitable fall came.

So...fun. Should do this more often. Were you there, too?

Happy New Year, 3 Idiots!

2010-01-02T18:41:00.000-08:00

...and the above title is not meant as an insult.

Happy New Year to everybody! All da best, ji.

Moving swiftly, along - we actually went for a movie in a hall - an unheard of thing for me and Vijay since Peanut came along.

A colleague of mine remarked how for some reason, almost everyone he knows who has gone for the movie, ended up going in groups of three. I scoffed, as is my wont, until I realized that the same was true for my mother-sister-friend trio who had gone the previous day. I was filled with wonder when my sister-in-law-brother-in-law-neice-in-law also ended up going together. And what was even more surprising was when we finally decided to bung Peanut in the car and take her along with us - her first movie in the hall ever at the tender age of 2 years 5 months.

So about the groups of three thing - coincidence? Or some kind of mass-hypnotization-collective-subconscious thing? You be the judge.

Anyway, about the movie. Now, Peanut is an avid TV watcher and we told her we were going to show her a BEEG TEEVEE. She was fine with the basic idea and being as cute as she is, she was eventually allowed by the security guards to carry her little Nirula's ice-cream cup inside the hall, so was okay for about the first three minutes. Then she realized it was kind of dark, loud and people on the screen were around thirty times her size. She panicked and started insisting - 'Ghar jaana hai' and wailing. I was immediately embarassed and started to get ready to bundle her out but Vijay was determined to watch this particular movie ( I walked out of Kaminey because it was 'disturbingly violent' on the rare occasion that we went for a film together). He asked me to sit back and relax, took Peanut from me and started to 'explain the story to her'. Miraculously, it worked and after some coaxing, Peanut agreed to resume her ice-cream eating and watch with wide eyes what was going on.

And so it went. There were occasions in the middle when she got bored, and wanted to leave, and very manipulatively told me 'Mama poo-poo kiya, saaf kar do', which turned out to be a blatant lie. Thankfully at interval, there was a big bag of Popcorn which gave us a fresh new lease of life.

So basically it turned out fine. And we all went back home fairly happy. Vijay really liked the movie, Peanut liked the songs, and I kind of liked seeing parts of my old campus again, although it was a bit weird seeing those hallowed halls used as a movie set, but hey. Also, while I usually dislike Aamir with a strange inexplicable intensity, I thought he was actually okay in the movie. And the best part was, I really didn't remember the book being anything like it - in fact, I had only agreed to go because my sister said it was funny and a review said it was not anything like 5 point someone.

And yesterday, it was very amusing to hear about my baby's conversation with my sister.

She looked up at her and said 'Maasi - BEEG TEE VEE - All eez well!'

My sister immediately looked at me and said 'You took her for 3 idiots in the hall?'

Now, that's communication.

Assorted...

2009-12-26T21:47:00.000-08:00

First of all, many thanks to you, kind Phoenix. It worked, the image verification thing. No more spammy comments. Yayyy!

And now, some simple notes:

* My husband is taking some time off from work and using it productively to teach Peanut many new things. Such as:

- (On Christmas Day) So Peanut...do you know where Santa lives?
I am very impressed that he is teaching her about festivals - a little cultural background is being constructed.
He continues: He lives in LUDHIANA...Ha ha ha...Santa Singh, right? Ha ha ha ha ...
( Is joined in his cackling laughter by little Peanut, who covers her face, and laughs along, even slaps her knee as if it's the best joke in the world. Little pretender. Encouraging him, for no reason).

- He's taught her all sorts of phrases - including 'Arrey Yaar', which he thinks is very cute ( I don't agree); and some weird dances too ( Hum tum jeet gaye, dushman haar gaye - wherein they both hop around in a circle like a pair of monkeys).

Peanut gets her own back, occasionally -

- She pretends to have food in her mouth long after it's disappeared, and mumbles 'Mu mein hai'. Flummoxing the father, and delaying his attempts to get food into her. On the other hand, when she's eating something he likes, like Makhana and he asks for it, she peers into his face and announces Aapke Mu Mein Hai, and continues to stuff her own face and chomp away.

- She likes to do everything herself, that is, Aapi Aapi. And when Vijay is trying to distract her from watching Ceebeebies by getting her interested in her jigsaw puzzles, and says Hey Peanut, let's do this! Her response is 'Dada, aapi aapi karo', after which she turns away from a sputtering Vijay and goes right back to the telly.

And me? In all this, I am being sidelined as he spends all his time with her filling her ears against me. In the mornings, I am summarily told 'Mama offish jao, jaldi jaldi'.

Good work, Vijay.

I have just two questions...

2009-12-12T00:05:00.000-08:00

1. Have you also been getting these spammy comments all over the place on your blog? I am so glad I enabled comment moderation, but they are annoying. Any clue how to stop them?

2. What makes you think the onus is always on ME to amuse YOU whenever you come around here? I am particularly bored and annoyed today and I DEMAND that you tell me a joke or some other amusing anecdote right NOW.

Humph. It's a selfish world.

Spontaneously wonderful

2009-12-02T06:00:00.000-08:00

Vijay: Peanut, Mama ka nose kahan hai?
Peanut: YE raha! ( smacking me on the nose)
Vijay: Aur Mama ke eyes kahan hai?
Peanut: YE aaijj! ( poking me in the eye)
Vijay: Aur Mama ka head?
Peanut: YE Head! ( bonking me on top of the head)
Vijay: ...aur Mama ka dimaag kahan hai?
Peanut (taken aback by this unfamiliar term, but recovers quickly) Chidiya le gayi!

Needless to say, there has much mirth and repetition of this little interaction - whenever Vijay finds a new audience.

But I'll get my own back.

Sigh.

Life Jinga La La La La LA!

2009-11-17T08:20:00.000-08:00

Seriously, Tata Sky Plus is pretty cool.

My first exposure to this concept was when I visited my cousin Mini in Australia. I found it interesting how she recorded all her shows, so that after she came back from work, she could watch them at leisure. The best part was seeing her fast-forward the ads.

So anyway, Tata Sky's Diwali offer has got me - along with many, many others, apparently.

But it's cool. In various fits and bursts of enthusiasm, I proceed to surf the various listed programs and have - on three separate occasions - set up to record 15 + programs in one sitting.

Of course, you may be wondering whether I've actually watched any of them. Well...

I saw -

a. The first three minutes of Indiana Jones and the Something Something.
b. The first four minutes of Slumdog Millionaire ( I also thoughtfully recorded Slumdog Crorepati for Vijay, but he didn't seem happy about this)
c. The whole of a workout program called Fitness Fusion where these were these slim blonde women doing the salsa. I worked out with it while Vijay watched appreciatively. The TV, of course.
d. The first two minutes of a program called 'Most Amazing Moments'
e. The first five minutes of a fascinating show on the Great Salmon Run.
f. Half of this great movie called Dead Again. Have you seen it?

...but we did manage to watch the whole of Chicago. This last was only because Peanut allows us only to watch musicals.

So I guess haven't got the full benefit yet although I have loads of programs recorded.

Peanut uses it well, though. I record her In the Night Garden, Teletubbies and other nauseatingly sweet and educational programs on her favorite channel. And yes, she watches each and every one of them at some point of time.

Anyway, it's cool. Live Pause. Rewind. Recording. And of course.

Fastforwarding the Ads.

And I work in Marketing!

Let's be Honest now, Shall we?

2009-11-14T06:48:00.000-08:00

I am a big fan of Ceebeebies.

It's very educational and well designed - it's just about the only thing I am happy letting Peanut watch on TV nowadays.

It's helped me wean her off from 9XM, her erstwhile favorite, referred to fondly as 'Ball' by her because it's logo has a ball-like thing on it.

So don't get me wrong: I love Ceebeebies.

But every so often, I get this urge to beat those sickly sweet little lumps of lard known as the Teletubbies, into a fine pulp.

I could take all four of them.

I work out.

Imagine if you will...

2009-10-28T09:55:00.000-07:00

It is Diwali time.

You are at your In-laws.

Your in-laws are chaste, vegetarian Brahmins.

After seven years of marriage, they pretty much suspect you are not.

Yet, you are respectful enough to throw out (okay, hide) the non-veg stuff in the house when they visit, especially since you know it makes your mother in law sick.

Even eggs.

So, it's a harmonious balance that has been struck.

And now imagine, if you will.

It is dinner time during Diwali.

Your little Peanut is cheerfully perched on a chair right next to yours.

She is eating plain rice, her favorite dish.

Her Grandma asks her to also eat her sabzi - some alu-gobi, your husband's favorite - and therefore, ubiquitous dish.

Your Peanut looks suspiciously at the alu-gobi.

Reaches out and pokes one piece of the alu.

And then brightly and happily proclaims

'Chickunnn!'

You feel yourself sliding to the floor under the table while your husband chuckles through a mouthful of sabzi and roti, and your in-laws graciously pretend not to hear.

The joy. The infinite joy.

The PTA Meeting

2009-10-22T19:29:00.000-07:00

Last week, before Diwali, Vijay and I went to meet Peanut's teachers at her playschool, for our very first PTA Meeting.

First of all, of course, we got ready at the last possible minute and I was getting extremely agitated. Leaving a bewildered Peanut behind, we rushed off and landed up just in the nick of time. We waited around, smiling blandly at the other parents and were soon called in to meet her teachers - Neena and Niti.

Neena did most of the talking, and I found myself warming up to her even more than before - she spoke in a very affectionate way about Peanut and told us about the developments she and Niti had observed in the past few weeks.

This, therefore, is the public image of Peanut:

* She is a very sweet, tender, gentle and well-disciplined child
(Really? I think of the temper tantrums at home)

* She is very assiduous about her work and always puts back her things when asked to do so.
( Her favorite game at home is throwing my books of the shelves, stepping all over them gingerly and pretending to be deaf when I ask her to help me pick them up)

* She does not really communicate verbally, but through gestures it is clear she absorbs everything.
( When Vijay and I are at home, Peanut is the only one who talks. If we try, she resorts to varying levels of the word 'Aaaaa' in order to get us to pay attention to her, finally resulting in screaming if we continue to try and have a conversation).

* She loves music and dance, her favorite song is Bum Bum Bhole.
( This is undisputable - except I think her favorite song is 'Soni De Nakhre' but they probably don't expose a lot of that kind of music to vulnerable toddlers in school)

*She shares an unspoken bond with two kids called Karan and Khushi, and they often are observed doing their activities together and sharing things.
( I am delighted at this. Vijay spends the next few days in deep suspicion, asking Peanut at sudden intervals in an ingratiating manner 'Beta, Karan kaun hai?)

* She is the darling of the class ( wonder if they say that to all parents...nah!) - and is so adorable that all the kids often jump all over her, especially during dance sessions. The teachers are very fond of her and protect her from the rowdier boys ( I could feel Vijay bristling beside me) - and the teachers' special name for her is Tinkerbell.
(This I did not know. And when I went home later and called her Tinkerbell, she got a very special kind of shy smile - when I asked her who calls her that, she said 'Neenaanty'. )

* I was very touched by the description of how they suddenly one day observed her saying her rhymes along with the other kids - Neena says she saw her and held her breath, and gripped Niti's arm and pointed and they both stared in silent delight at her mouthing all the words correctly. ( This kind of excitement really amazed me - I always thought I was the only one who took a real interest in Peanut's little achievements but their delight seemed genuine. I like these people. And yes, Peanut says all sorts of rhymes at home and also sings Andy Pandy and the Teletubbies and the Boogie Beebies theme songs with me)

Anyway, that's about that. I leave you with a couple of older pictures from a school function. In the first one, she's the one in the audience who can't sit still. In the second, she's on stage doing 'Row Row...'

How grown up are WE?

2009-10-09T09:00:00.000-07:00

Me: Honey, don't forget - tomorrow is our Parent-Teacher Meeting with Peanut's teacher - at 9.50 a.m.
Vijay: Do we have to take Peanut along?
Me: No, I checked with them at school - she can stay at home.
Vijay: Okay.

(Thoughtful Silence)

Vijay: Honey - it's our first Parent Teacher Meeting? Already?
Me: (Struck by this thought) Yes

(Wondering Silence)

Me: Does this mean we're growing up?
Vijay: I think so.

(Apprehensive silence)

Me: And old?
Vijay (almost immediately) Yes

(Brooding silence).

And for once, there was no mention of 'How fast our little girl is growing up'. It's all about us this time.

Sigh.

Many events. Sort of a Bulletin.

2009-10-03T10:06:00.000-07:00

Much as I hate this sort of post, it really can't be helped. And if there's one thing that's making my life easier these days, it's taking things less seriously. And that therefore goes for this blog. Therefore, random thoughts and events, in no particular order of importance:

* Vani's had a baby boy, over a month back and is now in Delhi. Yayyy!
* My other best friend, Manav, has also had a baby boy. 'tis really the season.
* I've realized that I haven't made any new friends in over two years now. I think the age is now past. But if you want to be my friend, mail me at yonearthnot at gmail dot com and I promise you, I will consider it.
* Peanut's two cousins, Mahima (age 8) and Akriti (Age 3) have moved back to India from England. It's really great to see her in their company. Makes me want to have another kid just so she doesn't have to play alone. But a readymade one, and preferably older, would be better.
* I have been gymming and am now even lower than the pre-pregnancy weight. It's a good feeling and I'm not going to swell up again anytime soon, I can promise you that.
* The office gym is a cool concept. Also ensures I finish work by 6.30 or 7 p.m. on the days that I decide to work out. My office facilities in general are pretty cool.
* Work has recently stopped being as much fun as it used to be. And it's more to do with people than the work itself. And much like Forrest Gump, that's all I have to say about that.
* Peanut is very, very, very clingy. Seriously. As I type, she has found her way into my lap and is insisting I use the computer to show her videos instead of writing on my blog. I tell you, I'm just not used to having someone around who's more selfish than me.
* Peanut is also very, very, very cute. She's started to speak now - and Vijay is unfortunately teaching her things like Ýo; Chill, Mom; and Whateva. What a great dad.
* Vijay has discovered today that he's going to a conference in Holland in November, and is trying to convince me to go along. I'm thinking - zero degrees temperature; stuck in a hotel room for three days while he's at the conference; with Peanut to amuse throughout the day. I'm thinking - not. But go, hubby - make the most of it!
* I'm reading many, many books at the same time and of course, it's taking ages to finish a single one. However, I've just started reading "I'm ok, you're ok'' and I'm totally fascinated by it. The whole concept of Parent, Adult, Child; the Games People Play; and so on. That's one book I plan to finish this weekend.
* I am really trying to increase my patience levels and control my temper. I really think I'm getting a lot better at it now. Ha ha ha ha ha. Look, the books all say to use humour. The best advice continues to be ''Count to ten''. Never heard anything more cliched and inane in my entire life. Must try it.
* My grandfather's birthday is coming up again - he's going to turn 94. He was over today at my Mum's, with the rest of the family, and it's really amazing to see him. Still in great shape, peaceful and happy. You give him a shirt and he thanks you, but adds that he has so many shirts. Have never met anyone with such few wants and needs. Awesome to think that some of those genes may have been passed on to me. Just wondering when they are going to show up. Maybe when I'm in my nineties.
* I haven't mentioned how sad I've been about Michael Jackson's passing. I still remember he was the first TV personality I really noticed and how much dissonance I felt when my father referred to him as a 'He'. Yes, you'd think that the fact that he was singing 'Man in the Mirror' at the Grammy Awards would have clued me in, but let's face it - I was 9 years old and obviously not a very bright one.
* My two good friends back in Bombay, who were management trainees along with me at my first company, are getting married. And no, it's not to each other - they are both men, or close enough anyway. So Fatso and Tools - congratulations to you. Seriously. It's great news.
* My other friend Amit, who has got married only a few months back, is actually pregnant already - that is, his wife is and they were both a bit embarassed by the fact that they got pregnant just a month after the wedding. I personally think there's something shady about the whole thing, and now it's all making sense - the last minute invitations, the sudden date-setting. Ha, ha. I'm only kidddding, guys. Congratulations! You guys are so not ready. I'll be right with you - cheering you on, giving you good advice and moral support and laughing all the way.
* I had this person who I considered my childhood enemy and we really hated each other in school, but for some strange reason, I got in touch with her over Facebook recently, and found that she actually seems like a pretty nice person and I actually warmed to her. I guess that's all part of the growing up process. My Adult is now less contaminated with my Child, as Thomas A harris, M.D would say. Really, you should read this book.

And now I'm tired. And yet satisfied. I've probably bored you to death with news of people who you couldn't possibly know or care about. But I love all these people and things. And it feels good to write about them.

And how have you been? Feel free to bore me to death in comments. Come on, let loose. Tell me who's still around on this ghissa-peeta, neglected old blog. And tell me what's new in your life, what books you're reading, any good recipes, and so on. I still can't cook, though. Scratch the recipe bit.

A Guest Post By My Sister

2009-09-10T10:34:00.000-07:00

And she tells it so much better...

Who's the Boss?

Children must be disciplined from an early age. This implies hardening your heart against their wide eyed, chubby-cheeked faces and being firm. Yes. Discipline is the key.

You may agree. But you haven't met Peanut have you?

Y & Vijay (parents of an active two year old Peanut) decided to take their semi-annual trip - to the movies - and left Peanut under the collectively watchful eye of Mum, myself, A and the K. If we count A, then the adult to child ratio stood at 4:1. Easy babysitting you say? Again, you haven't met Peanut have you?

Now Peanut is a no-nonsense type of child who has a firm idea of what she wants, and as for any contrary opinions issued from the bumbling adults she is forced to deal with, she dismisses as bunkum. All this is made very easy for her, given the fact that she is most adorable two year old you've ever laid eyes on. One quiver of that lower lip will have you waving the white flag in no time.

A had come over armed with Prince of Persia - the Sands of Time. I am introducing A to the joys of the PoP trilogy which has always been and always will be my only interest in the world of gaming. Anyway, we started playing while Peanut was with my Mum. Engrossed with a particularly tough fight sequence, we scarcely noticed the K bringing Peanut into the room with a coloring book and a set of sketchpens.

Under A's otherwise skillful maneuvering, the Prince kept dying at the hands of the big, bad villains so I took over the fighting. At this point, Peanut was sitting quietly on a stool and watching our game quite interestedly. It took all my powers of concentration to finish off the baddies so I ignored the apparent struggle that was taking place to my left. I vaguely heard cries of 'Peanut, no!!' from A, followed by squeals of protest and dismissive 'Aaahhhs' from Peanut.

The noise had died down by the time I was finished. When I looked up from the screen, I saw Peanut sitting innocently on the stool looking at me benignly. I smiled because there was a green sketchpen mark on her nose. My smile faded as I noted that Peanut, A and my cream colored sofa bed were all covered in a red, green and yellow marks. "No, no, no!!" I wailed. "Why did you let her do this?"

A defended himself by saying that Peanut cried when he tried to take the sketchpens from her. I can really see what kind of parent he'll make. The kind of parent who smiles indulgently at the little tykes breaking vases and coloring the walls.

While I had hysterics, Peanut suddenly noticed the colored sofa and gasped as if shocked by this act of vandalism. "Peanut!" I said accusingly. "Yeh kisne kiya?" In response she pointed to A and said "Unkallll!!!" This would have actually been quite convincing had there not been witnesses.

Luckily, we managed to get the stains out with rigorous scrubbing. Peanut was highly amused by it all and tried to send jet like sprays of water in our faces by blocking the nozzle of the tap as we tried to wash her hands.

Yes, Peanut is a naughty one. Unknowingly, my cousin Aparna tried to use her as a model of good behavior for her own two little girls the next evening at dinner. This never augurs well.

"Look, Akriti," she said to her 3 year old. "See how baby Peanut drinks from a glass without spilling anything." At this point, of course, Peanut spilled apple juice over herself and the chair. "Look Akriti," said Aparna, undaunted. "See how baby Peanut is eating ice cream with a spoon and holding it just like a grown up." At this juncture, Peanut decided that a more expedient way to eat ice cream was to lick it off the plate and plied her little pink tongue to the amusement of her older cousins.

On the way home, I sat calmly in the front seat while Y struggled with her squirming baby in the back. She said I must be thinking "I'm never having kids."

You may agree, but then you've never met Peanut have you?