Is it right to write?

A month ago, I was informed by my 6 yr old son’s teacher that he needed to brush up his writing.....now, I know for a fact that he speaks very good English and is extremely fluent. With a bit of probing she clarified that she meant ‘formation of alphabets’.

His books anyway reveal many red marks and remarks on his writing. This is because he changes his font (calibri / comic sans / courier new / Georgia) from line to line. He has a logic to everything, and the one he gave me for this is – “I hate writing, so I tried to do something different in each line. Now my page looks beautiful, not really boring anymore!”  As a parent, yes, I was filled with glee that my 6 yr old was imaginative, creative, and I needed to help him explore this side of him. But as an Indian school student’s parent, I was left with no choice but to tell him that he could do all this in his rough book, but had to stick to rules (however boring and hateful they may be) when it came to his class work. The teacher herself suggested that I keep erasing every bit of incorrect formation until he gets it right.

One weekend later, he looked around for a pen that I needed, and, much to his amusement, he didn’t find one. He came back with a grin saying “There is no pen in this house, and that means, nobody writes, so why should I learn how to”? True to his observation, any writing happens on the laptop and so it set me thinking. Why don’t we just teach the kids how to type instead? He is already familiar with the qwerty keyboard, and although he uses just his right index finger, he loves typing things in a word file, and was very happy to find the spell check function. Now he is questioning the need for dictation. I am yet to figure out how to answer that.

The educational system isn’t really keeping pace the rapid evolution of human intelligence, so I started looking at games online that taught children how to type... and learnt that some states in the US have introduced typing for kindergarten kids.

Yet, just two days ago, I was chatting with a friend of mine who has a 9 yr old daughter. While we were busy exchanging notes on kids, schools, maids, classes etc, I happened to mention about the feedback that came from my son’s teacher. Up until that moment, the 9 yr old girl was completely lost in a game on her iPad with her head down, back hunched, right index finger-tip moving vigorously on the screen. She looked up now, and plainly said, “Why bother writing or typing? Ask him to use the Dragon dictate app, it just needs voice”!

Confessions

5 items in my freezer

1.       5 mini liqueur chocolates

2.       ¼ kg boneless chicken breast piece

3.       Frozen Chaat chutneys

4.       Whole spices

5.       A packet of frozen peas

5 items in my wardrobe

1.       Several plastic and steel hangers

2.       6 sarees waiting (for 7 years) to be worn

3.       Clothes

4.       Wallet

5.       Footwear

5 items in my car

1.       Music CD’s  - English / Hindi / Tamil

2.       Car tissues

3.       Ganesha idol

4.       Pen

5.       Coins

5 items in my wallet

1.       Photograph of my mom and kids

2.       Currency Notes

3.       Coins

4.       Driving License

5.       Credit Cards

5 items on my dresser

1.       Deodorant

2.       Perfume

3.       Comb

4.       Eyeliner

5.       Lipstick

I tag Rohini, Navina and Sirisha, to continue to play!!!

Arranged vs Love!

My understanding of arranged marriages is this. First, the horoscopes are exchanged, then the astrologer approves the 10/10 match. The boy’s and girl’s sides exchange profile pictures, followed by a girl-seeing session. I guess, this is more for the boy’s side to assess the girl’s wealth, culinary silks, and her interest in Bharatnatyam and Carnatic Music. The date is then fixed and they get married. If they are lucky, they will be allowed to meet up and maybe write to each other until the wedding.

Surprisingly, I seem to have seen more of the abnormal ones. The 70’s saw many love marriages in the family. Some cousins married each other. One made his sister’s best friend, his wife. While one married her colleague, another married her tuition teacher. A third married a North Indian friend of hers.

In my circle of friends too, there seem to be many who have married their childhood sweethearts, colleagues, friends etc.

My sister married a nice guy she met at a family friend’s wedding, and my other sister married our paternal cousin. I married my foodie friend from work; there seemed to be more love for food than for each other.

When somebody asks me if mine was arranged, I say no. The next statement is that it was then a love marriage, and I still say no. I think it was somewhere in between, a convenience marriage... a food bond, that progressed to a ‘I know you so well, I might as well get married to you!’  or ‘A known devil is better than an unknown angel!’ state. The two families had nothing much to say, so we ended up married.

Today, arranged marriages almost seem extinct. If at all  there is one, it seems like the girl or the guy wasn’t smart enough to find his/her own match. The compromises that one has to make to stay married (leave alone happily) these days are unimaginable. I see many love marriages falling apart, wonder how the arranged ones carry on.

In fact, 10 years ago, at the peak of my independence, I was completely against getting married. It felt like I would lose my freedom to buy whatever I wanted, eat wherever I wanted, and not worry about where I lived and what bills were paid.

I see the youngsters in the family sailing in the same boat now. They don’t want to get married, they don’t believe in love, they don’t want to live in someone else’s shadow, they don’t want to be tied down, they don’t want to have children. But, they are ok with living-in with partners, having a steady partner or just have a specific bunch of good friends to hang out with.

Is this commitment phobia? Is the society changing? Is it the financial independence that they don’t want to let go? Is it the fear of the unknown? Is it the impact of broken marriages?

I don’t really know which one..... but one thing is sure, there is no hope in hell for those lovely kanjivaram sarees sitting in my wardrobe...... they will wear out at the folds and wither away over time, and never see the light and air of a wedding hall!!!

Guilt is fast asleep!!

Rohini tagged me on Mommy guilt.

I am a night owl and fridays and saturdays are the only nights I can relax and just be me. So I totally enjoy the late mornings in bed with the blanket over my head, and the pillow snug-fitting into my doubled up frame. My kids wake up an hour earlier than school mornings, simply because they are excited about the weekend. Their dad takes care of the morning chores and the kids. If I am awake, I can hear them troubling him to brush their teeth, getting ready for their bath, potty time, etc. All the time, I just laze in bed and even if I am not sleeping...I am reading a book or checking stuff on my blackberry.

Nah, not guilty at all. In fact, if I am awake, I have a satisfied smirk on my face. Especially when I hear the Dad pleading with them and yelling at them. Topping that.....if I am called out for help, I stomp and sulk for another hour.

Am tagging Shai and Navina.....

Cars and Boys

Thirteen years ago, I would reel out the car numbers, models and colours of the cars of all my colleagues. The parking lot fascinated me, I would go up to the 7th floor terrace and see the line of cars and try and figure out which one was whose. My favourite online game was Parking Perfection (all versions). My close friends would be awed by my memory and interest in cars. My dream in life at that time, was to buy my own car and drive to work in a starched printed silk saree. Up until then, I used to think that Cars was a boy-thing.  But I realized driving came naturally to me, and I thoroughly enjoyed it.

My husband loves driving too. He once drove from one city to another, for 7 hours and was visibly unhappy that we had reached our destination. He also enjoys reading up information about the technical, mechanical facts of different cars and models. He passes on a lot of this to my older son too. (Genetically and Specifically)

My older child was fascinated with his first toy car when he was 6 months old. He couldn’t take his eyes off the wheels, would lie on the floor and see the wheels (probably could count rpm too!).  He connected it with a real car only when he was about 1, probably because he had a couple of new toy cars of which he could open and close the doors.

When he was 2, and started talking, he referred to our cars, only by their names – Toyota Innova and Hyundai Getz. In about a year’s time, when he was more than 3, he used to be most excited driving around sitting in his carseat. He thoroughly enjoyed the Mumbai traffic jams (maximum of 1.5 hrs once) because he got to see so many cars around.

He gaped, ogled and reeled out the model names. While it’s true that we have ended up giving him this information all along, we were surprised at the fact that he could recognize the models from a wheel or side of the car. We had to wait for the car to pass by, so we could get a quick glimpse of the logo at the rear.

He is 6 now, and getting him out of the car in front of school is a big task. He gets all excited and starts jumping around, yelling out “Mamma, that white Skoda Superb is Krish’s car!”, “That black Honda CRV is Jay’s car, he also has a navy blue BMW, you know?”

My second one was born into a home that had a bed in the shape of a car, and two tubs full of four wheelers for toys. He is 2.5 yrs now, has started making full sentences and repeats whatever big bro says. More often than not, he has no clue of what he is repeating, but that doesn’t really deter him. If he happens to see cars on the road, he asks his brother which ones they are. And if he is travelling alone with me, he reels out model names like a pro, even though the cars don’t match. This afternoon he saw a Maruti Alto and yelled, “Mamma, theee, Hondhaa thivick”...

Our family’s most favourite movie till date is “Cars” and, needless to say, we can’t wait for June 24th to watch its sequel. While on the subject, I can’t resist sharing the conversation that these two boys had, on our way to school this morning:

Older one: Look, that is a BMW!

Younger one: Loook, dhaath ith a behind dhabaloo!

Older one: Not behind W, its BMW, if you can’t say it, its ok, say   ‘Beamer’!

Younger one: Okay, dhaath ith a beemah dhabaloo

Older one: You are a funny brother, and I love you!

Younger one: <<Grinning, giggling, gurgling.......>>

Raindrops keep falling.....

I hate to sit at home as it rains
No access to the window panes
No sunshine or bright light
I feel dull and it isn't right
So I step out for a wet drive
On the highway in gear five
Wipers swishing really fast
Listening to music of the past
Heading to the Inorbit mall
So the kids can have a ball
I can see more faces and colors
And also lighten my purse
Have a hot and spicy meal
Maybe catch a movie reel
A good plan this sunday
To have a proper funday

Kiddie Classics

Those lovely movies, songs I watched and heard as I grew up.....I am reliving those days through my kids. In fact, I seem to be more fascinated and glued to the TV when the kids have wandered off after an hour or so into the movie. Or they just enjoy the songs (most often, choosing songs from the DVD Menu) and carry on!

Pretty Mary Poppins perched on the clouds with her open umbrella that has a talking parrot for a holder. The cute little dancing penguins and the wandering horse from the carousel, the adorable Bert and his blackened face after the cleaning of the Chim Chimney Chim Chimney Chim Chim Cheroo. Love the toy cleaning sessions, A spoonful of sugar and how she leaves the children when they find happiness in the company of their parents. My kids thoroughly enjoy the movie and the songs, especially the floating professor’s I love to laugh and Supercalifragilisticexpialidocious....

The hilarious and lovable Mr Potts, with Someone to care for, to be there for;  he has his two children. They love his unique inventions – Breakfast maker with a chugging train in the kitchen, toot sweet maker, carpet cleaner, the race car converted into a flying and sailing one. The kids’ new friend, Truly Scrumptious, and their trips to the beach and to the palace of the child hating queen of Bulgaria, in their Chitty Chitty Bang Bang. What an amazing movie (story by Roald Dahl); makes you want to dream again and makes you want to go back to being a child again....

My fancy for the English language and its many beautiful nuances started off with Henry Higgins trying to convert Eliza Doolittle from a flower-girl to what he could call My Fair Lady. I still love it when he sings, Why can’t the English teach their children how to speak or Why can’t a woman be like me?; and when she sings Just you wait Henry Higgins and The rain in Spain; and of course Mr Doolittle singing his cheerful I’m getting married in the morning. I have replaced atleast 6 cassettes, 3 CD’s of this soundtrack, that’s how much I love them. My kids don’t enjoy the movie as much as the songs, since there are no children in the movie.

The hills are alive with the Sound of Music......I get goose bumps even today when I see the camera rising over the hills of Salzburg in the opening shot of the movie. My love for music today owes a lot to the memory of enjoying this movie in my childhood. I can see that my kids love it too. They are humming Do re mi and High on the hills.... all the time even when their hands are running cars and trains on the floor.

I encourage watching these movies now and then, since they have purely positive effects on children, and they offer a lot of energy and promise. But the kids today are far smarter than I remember myself being when I was a kid. Across all these movies, the few things that my 6 yr old seems to have understood clearly....

Mothers shout at kids, but Nannies don’t; Kids have a good time when their mothers are not around; The didi who spends more time at home is their Nanny; and if Mamma wants to ever go away, Daddy will marry the Didi, and they will all live happily ever after!!!

Social Network

It has been some 13 years now, that I have been living in rented apartments. While I miss the open garden and patio of an independent house, I realize that maintaining an apartment is far easier. Nuclear families like mine function better in an apartment. At the same time, when you are busy making the new apartment your home, there are those uninvited interventions that make the transition pretty rough. Neighbors, pets, security guards, society head and members.

Neighbors:

I have encountered....Elderly spinsters plonking themselves in front of our tv for 5 hours every evening and commenting on our furniture, our sense of fashion, dinner menu etc. Want to be polite and kind to senior citizens...but you need to get a life, dear auntie!

Elderly couples following us all the way into our bedrooms when we got back from a hard day’s work, trying to see if, in their opinion, we needed something.  Thank you surrogate in-laws, but nobody walks into the bedroom of a newly married couple.

Angry women slamming their front door if they saw us waiting for the lift at the lobby, or opening our door to let somebody in or out. No, we don’t want to smell the pungent fish from your kitchen either.

Women sitting idle in their living room, with their front door wide open. They try to peer into our house, every time our front door is opened.  I smile, you smile, I say hi, you say hi, but nothing more to talk since you have started staring.

Some lovely women (now good friends) spending some pleasant afternoons, with the kids and me. Thanks for being the exceptions, and not misunderstanding me when I have asked you to leave.

Some women asking me to join them for a mid-morning coffee or chai. Thanks for introducing me to the other residents in the building and planning playdates for your son with mine.   

Teenaged girls coming by to spend some fun time with my kids, sometimes even babysitting when I needed some time off. Thanks for making me feel comfortable and safe to leave the children under your care.

Pets:

I have seen......Aggressive, huge dogs pouncing on us trying to get friendly...my husband enjoyed them, I didn’t.

Friendly Labradors with beautiful eyes, wagging their tails away, getting me to actually consider owning one of them, when I really hate dogs.

Smelly ones, leaving a stench that lasts half an hour after they get off the lift. I do understand why some residents ask for pets to be taken in a separate lift.

Cats, running out from under the chassis, just as the car starts to move with me at the wheel.

Pigeons and crows, crapping all over the place. The protective nylon nets around my windows are a blessing.

Security Guards:

I have come across......Friendly ones that would insist on hand delivering (junk) mail or newspaper, and then coming back grinning for Ganpati or Diwali. Want to, but can’t live without them.

Making small talk about the heat, the rain, and my kids, all the time glaring at the neckline.

Snoring ones that refuse to open the gate when you return after a late night outing, despite loud honking and flashing lights on their faces.

Cocky ones that want to say way too much to visitors – Madam is alone with kids, Saab is in Dubai, he just left yesterday.

Ones that know every single detail about you, probably which undergarment store you go to – because they are chaddi buddies with your maid or driver.

Society :

I have met......Strict society heads that criticize your parking skills because your car is 2” outside your garage or parking slot.

Friendly ones who want you to pitch into every small odd job in the society and forget that you are only a tenant.

Same ones treating you differently in a society meeting, because you are a tenant, and you have no right to give long term suggestions.

Fake ones that come running to collect money for a security guard’s mother’s TB treatment expenses, or when the plants need more maintenance money.

From the time I opted to be a Stay at Home Mom, these are among the very many interesting things I come across on a daily basis. Most often, (given that I am a Virgo) I end up criticizing basic things and probably get more hassled because others don’t pay attention to details.

I have a panic attack when somebody spits paan into the tracks of the sliding doors in the lift and it gets stuck. Am paranoid that I might get stuck inside with one or both kids when am running against time to get some important jobs done.

I get really riled when I see the two girls (10 yr olds) manhandling my kid’s bicycle that is parked in the parking area. Only to find out that they are cousins of a resident in the building and don’t even live here. They race around the parking area on their cycles, every evening and invariably end up scratching one or more cars, and have broken and uprooted quite a few plants.

I do appreciate, however, that the building has a rule to wash the balconies (every flat has 5) only on Friday between 11am to 1pm. This includes soaping and washing the balconies or watering the plants and cleaning the pots.

I wonder if these things affect other women who live in apartments, or am I the only one complaining. Men too don’t seem to be affected much by it, unless of course something happens.

Last Monday at 8:45am, a happy smiling ‘Good bye!’, ‘Have a good day!’, ‘All the best!’ went to my husband from me, just when he entered the lift. It was his first meeting with the seniors who had flown in from London, to assess his department’s work. The preparation for this had begun almost a fortnight ago, and the readying of the attire started on Saturday when we had to get the blazer ironed, shoes polished, tie chosen, the trousers and shirt kept ready.

Exactly 3 mins later, when I answered my door bell, I saw a familiar guy standing there. Head, shoulder and bust completely soaked, yet smoke coming out of his ears. There are exceptions to every rule.....I live on the 3^rd floor, and the 5^th floor maid decided to wash the balcony on a Monday at 8:45am. She was apparently on leave on Friday and wanted to please her Madam who was out of town. 

Maid in Heaven!

I wish there was a match making agency or website to ensure one gets the ideal maid (if such a thing exists!)

I grew up in a household where my sisters and I had our own daily duties to help mom maintain the house, do the cooking and handle the shopping. My eldest sister did the bigger shopping and took mom around on her Luna. I would go for the daily odd small shopping with a basket on my bicycle handlebar. My elder sister was homebound and would cater to all the chopping, mixing, clearing in the kitchen. We also took turns to do the dusting, folding clothes, ironing, drawing water from the well, watering the plants, time consuming boring jobs of peeling small onions, peeling banana flowers (exotic dishes that were part of our regular home cooking), clearing up the kitchen in the nights, making the beds, baby sitting sisters’ kids over those many years.

(Maid A – almost 17 yrs) We had one part time maid spending 2 hours sweeping, mopping, washing clothes and washing vessels.

We came to a point in life where Mom and I moved into a one bedroom flat where again I did all the shopping and mom did the cooking.  The 2 hour maid continued to do her regular jobs, and took over some more. By now we had the washing machine, no kids (sisters’) were around, and I had started going to work.

(Maid B & Cook A – 2 years) I got married and had the same set up of a 2 hour maid who did all the cleaning jobs and I did the cooking. Deepak and I did shopping together, he took care of putting clothes in the washer (which he still does thanks to my many adventurous efforts in turning his whites to pink and peach). Moreover the Ironwala also happened, what a relief! Soon, office work started getting so hectic, we found a cook who worked for 1 hr every morning  to make our lunch and dinner everyday.

(Maid C & Cook B – 2 years) We moved to Mumbai and we promptly hired a maid to do the cleaning and a cook who could make our 3 meals for the day!

(Maids & Full Timers – Anywhere between 1 day and 2 years)

I got pregnant and decided to get back to work after the 3 month maternity leave. Considering we don’t have any family members living with us, we thought its time to get a trained cook and baby sitter, so we imported one from Chennai – this only meant multiple trips to the railway station to pick up  and drop and going through many replacements since they would all have one obituary in their family every month.  But my era with the 

Full Time Maid had begun.

I delivered the first baby and in 6 months we moved to Chennai and I realized that I couldn’t leave the angel with a maid and go back to work. So I decided to play the stay-at- home- mom and continued with the full timer and the part-timer.

The reasons due to which I have needed to fire my fulltimers or they having left me gets murkier and murkier.

Chennai

-          I fired one because she was stealing my provisions and I just once caught her doing something bordering on child abuse (3 months)

-          I fired another because she was too loud, her make up, the colors of her clothes, her voice, her anklets (bah), she and Jayalalitha’s convoy competed with each other in alerting the neighbourhood. (1 week)

Gurgaon

-          I imported one from Chennai who I fired since she let the plumbers, gas wala, carpenters, electricians into the house without checking with me and all this because she could converse in Hindi and had spent 2 years in Delhi in mid 70’s (9 months – Chennai and Gurgaon)

-          I imported another but had to fire her because she was getting too friendly with my husband (1 week)

-          I imported yet another one but had to fire her because she didn’t move out of the kitchen or utility room and didn’t speak to anybody other than several people on std/roaming on her mobile (2 weeks)

-          One quit because she was married and couldn’t stay away from her husband for more than ten days (10 days)

-          I fired one because she was romancing my next door neighbour’s cook from my balcony and paid no attention to anything other than his catcall at different times of the day and night. (3 months)

-          I fired another because she was making calls from my home phone and having phone sex with many men other than her husband, and emptying my kid’s snacks rack over 2 days. (3 months)

-          I fired a good one because I was moving back to Mumbai (5 months)

Mumbai

-          I fired one since she was yelling at my 2 year old the whole time and threw my belan from one wall to another in the kitchen when I asked her to chop onions my way (1 week)

-          One left since that was the first time she ever stepped out of her home and was crying the whole time (5 hours)

-          I fired one more since she had to be woken up every morning and every afternoon beyond the blaring alarm almost kept inside her ear, and she did most of the jobs only with the AC and the Television on, and would go off on outings for anywhere between 2 to 7 hours without any information or notice (3 days)

-          One left since she decided to get married – this has been my best so far, took care of my first baby throughout my difficult pregnancy and delivery of my second baby and has been my ideal maid (2 years)

-          I fired the first replacement since she was working in slowmotion all the time. She took 1 hour to chop 4 onions (3 days)

-          Another one was from Goa and she left because her grandpa was admitted in a hospital  to cure chikungunia and she had no clue of when she will return (5 months)

-          I fired the next one since she was walking around like a zombie, didn’t wake up on time, didn’t do any work properly without being reminded. I finally found out she was addicted to tobacco. (3 days)

-          I fired the next one because she was eating the cashews, the almonds, the cheese, the fruits and was obsessed only with drying and folding the clothes. I couldn’t leave the second baby for 5 mins with her since she would try getting him to walk when he couldn’t even stand (10 days)

-          I fired one more because of child abuse and employer abuse. Half the time she would be yelling at me for asking her to do a particular job (2 weeks)

-          Another one from Goa left because she went visiting her family for 2 days and they didn’t let her return – I still have her clothes, money, footwear, bling. She was a very good one too (4 months)

-          I now have the first Goan maid who returned after seeing her Grandpa recovering completely from chikungunia. She wept one night and wanted to leave again since her mother threatened to commit suicide because of some domestic issues in Goa.

I don’t know how long she is going to last. I am looking forward to a day when I don’t need the full timers eating into my privacy and threatening to walk out on me anytime. I don’t think that is going to take too long because I am getting less and less dependent on them.

The big shift happens when my small one starts school in June 2011. Then I have more time on my hands and life only gets easier.

I hereby conclude that the only maid, who is a match made in heaven for you is ‘yourself’ and a bit of your husband and the kids. After all what is family and bonding time if you don’t spend your day together doing stuff together, whether outside or at home.

Lingo Bingo.....

When I was in school, the subject I enjoyed the most was English. Prose, Poetry, Punctuation, Grammar ... the variety was amazing. I think that is what made the subject so interesting. I always kept Wren & Martin in my bag, whether I needed it for the day or not, and loved reading random pages and doing exercise work when I had time to kill.

It is now, when my 5 yr old is trying to understand the subtleties of the language, that I realize how complicated and illogical English is. Imagine the work a child’s brain needs to do, if it has to remember that “loan” and “lone” sound the same but are spelt differently. “Bite” and “tight” sound the same, while the spellings are different. “Site” and “cite” sound the same, yet “sake” and “cake” show that “C” and “S” have different sounds. It is actually fascinating.

However, while I am not an expert, I struggle to understand why some seemingly educated people make very basic mistakes in spoken English.

The most trivial may be the mistakes in pronunciation or accent, which I am able to put up with: like “simbly” (simply) or “vaat” (what), which are relatively easy on the ear.

Then there are the badly worded ones, which could possibly stem from lack of understanding of the nuances in the language: “Suppose, if, in case this happens!” – Why would one use all three in the same sentence.   “Everybody are ok!” – I mean, like, Hello!!!! When Every or Each is used, the reference is only to one unit.    “I will explain you now!” – This changes the meaning to something different, and also makes it rather offensive.

But, the ones that grate on the ear the most, are those where people translate directly from their native language.

The other day, at a fast food joint, a couple of extremely well-dressed and fashionable girls were trying to grab the attention of a young boy behind the counter. When he started getting busy with some other customers, one of them shouted: “Why you are not looking at us? You are angry on us?”

When I was new to Mumbai and was trying to find my way home, I asked a colleague for directions; she asked me to take an auto rickshaw, and suggested a particular route, and said: “You go straight and then ask the auto driver to remove from left!”

I recently overheard a conversation between a mother and daughter at a spa, “Mamma, you get haircut done, until then I will be back!”

While I have been silently mocking at people who speak this way, I have to confess that my Hindi is subject to the same criticisms. The people who help me run my house do try their best to teach me every day, yet I found myself saying something last evening that had them in splits.

I wanted my coffee reheated in the microwave and told my maid “Coffee banaake rakkhi hoon, please mereko garam karo!” 

My own little Freakshows!

Think F.R.I.E.N.D.S, think Monica Geller, think OCD, think – me!

I have OCD, so I annoy everybody around, especially my husband. When we were newly married, he liked that I kept things neat, clean and in an orderly fashion. I always put things back in their own place the moment I was done with them.  In a few years, it started becoming a topic of conversation when family and friends were around, and would never cease to put people in a lighter mood.

Some more years passed, and we seemed to be arguing about just these very things that he seemed to like about me earlier. (I guess, that is the reality of being married to someone as compared to living with someone). He hated it that I wanted the newspapers, books, tablemats in 90 degree angles; that I wanted to unpack as soon as we reached our holiday destination or reached back home – to the extent of putting the clothes in the wardrobes in their place and put the empty bags/suitcases back in the loft; that I constantly maintained various lists on my laptop to run the house or my daily routines or to pack for a vacation or to plan shifting of homes or shop for groceries.

He also finds comfort in the fact that, when he has to look for the tiniest thing in the house, he just needs to ask me. Needles, erasers, shoe laces, 8 yr old receipts, passport, an old weighing machine, a silk kurta – whether used yesterday or 10 yrs ago, I have a mental record of what is kept where and so far have never wasted time searching for something either in my house or on a vacation, despite having two children.

Fortunately or unfortunately, I have made my children keep their toys, books, clothes, shoes sorted and categorized too. More often than not, they too never look for lost or misplaced things, because there aren’t any.

My husband has fixations too – just that they are made out to be far milder compared to mine. The toothpaste has to be extracted to a point of no return (the tube should be as thin as a blade when done), only then will he junk it. Newspapers have to be folded back corner to corner, front page facing up (this has grown on me very well) all the time. Hanky has to be folded in a particular way – first vertical then horizontal – I have never seen it being opened and used, ever. Time is always estimated to the minute (there is no give or take even a few seconds), one needs 5 mins then one takes 5 mins, not allowed 7 mins. In the early years of marriage, I used to get violent reactions if I broke the rule with any of these. Now I guess I am used to it and automatically stick to them.

My sister once told me that staying even 2 days in my house is like attending Boot Camp. While I did feel offended back then, I now know her opinion was justified. I also realize how annoying I can be, and I guess this enlightenment is because of my kids.

My 6 yr old has highly developed fixations, and drives me crazy when things have to be done in a hurry. He uses three different toothpastes, and will use them in the same order across morning and evening. If the order is changed, he panics. If he is taken to a restaurant for the second time, he will order exactly the same things he did the first time - any compromise and he would rather go hungry. He has a set of animals that he will play with, by standing them in the form of an assembly line and in alphabetical order. This is how I came about to realize how annoying I can be.

But, it is by watching my 2 yr old freak, that I have been jolted into reality. He tries to wrap an empty cheese cube wrapper back into its folds before he throws it into the dustbin. If he struggles to get a ball that has rolled under a table, and one of us happens to help him, he will take the ball and put it back in the same tricky spot, and start the struggle again. If he gets into the car from a particular side, he has to get off from the same side – even if there are cars honking behind us to speed up the alighting process. He has to wear his clothes, his shoes, his bag, open the front door, step out, press for the lift in the same order every day; any change of order and he will be sure to remind us that the legends of the  tantrums of the terrible twos are true!!

Cars

We grew up going about in a bus
Autos - joy rides they gave us

A bicycle came along, when I was in my teens
That’s when I wore, my first pair of jeans

A bike was bought, when I graduated
And I learnt where restaurants were situated

I took a ride in a Staff-bus to work
Dreaming I was, of driving a Merc

Five years later I bought my own car
Maruti Zen, no car was, or is, at par

I enjoyed those late night drives
On which most husbands took their wives

Then, I fell prey to the luxury
Of a chauffeur exemplary

Now, I miss the thrill of taking the wheel
Yet, the joy of handling my kids is all that I want to feel 

Driving License at 4

Every morning when I drop my 5 yr old off at school, I insist he sits in the backseat with the seatbelt in place. We have always tried to set an example of driving safely, and respecting traffic rules.

Unfortunately, every morning, he ends up seeing at least one incident that breaks the theme. This then becomes a huge challenge for me -  to rationalize someone else’s action and my reaction to it.

At 8:30 in the morning, we have to pass through lanes avoiding at least 4 schools in a radius of 3 kms.  The roads are dug up on one side (the reasons vary but the roads are always dug up) , rendering half of  already small lanes unusable, yet continue, to be open to two way traffic.

Some specific scenes we witness on the road:  There is one car trying to overtake on your right (on the wrong side of the lane), blocking the way for the oncoming cars, and will invariably start an ugly jam. There is one car, behind you, running late for school, incessantly honking, hoping you will give way.  There is a garbage truck stopped in the middle of the road, with the possibility of some of the stuff tipping over on to your hood when you pass by it. There is one car that has been driving on your left and suddenly turning to the right in front of you without an indicator. There will always be one ahead of you, that will stop abruptly on seeing a vegetable cart or a friend walking on the road. There will be many you will see, where the driver is busy on a call, balancing the mobile between head and shoulder, completely oblivious to his/her surroundings. There will be one with the driver looking into the face of the person in the front passenger seat, and chatting away. There will be another one driven by an elderly person, who is highly cautious for all the obvious reasons, but unfortunately slowing down the whole line of cars.

But, there is this one, that I have heard of before, but have never seen so far. I think I got lucky last afternoon when I went to pick up my boy from school.

My 2 yr old, who wanted to go with me to pick up his brother, was safely belted in the back in his carseat, while I drove through all the chaos, well in time to find an easy spot to park behind the school road.  Then I got him out, and walked slowly on the footpath with him and stopped at a small junction. This is where I had to cross the road to move to the other side and wait in front of the school gate for my older one to happily peep through the gap in the gate, see us and have us pick him up.

Now this tricky junction is supposedly used for the sole purpose of crossing over after alighting from a car or an auto. Invariably, we see everyone alighting right at the junction, ensuring a mini-jam or loud honking or angry yelling. Then there is a mini-ferris wheel right at that spot to attract the toddlers while they go home, and parents are waiting around the wheel blocking the way. You will also find a couple of horses, with a rider waiting to take the toddlers on a quick ride down the road and back.

This is where I witnessed this never-seen-before sight.  One chauffeur decided to drive upto the junction and stopped right in the middle of it. A grandmother was helping a 4 yr old girl out of the ferris wheel. She then paid for the ride, said a couple of goodbyes to a few mothers, and quickly fixed a play-date for the evening with one of them. Around this time, the grandkid ran happily towards the car. Much to my surprise the little one ran to the driver’s door. I waited for some reaction from the two adults who were supposed to be responsible for the kid. The chauffeur smiled at the girl, and opened the door for her, picked her up and put her on his lap, shut the door, and let the girl take the wheel. The grandmother walked up to the car, asked the girl if she was ok and would sit there till they reached home (lest the little one change her mind on the way home and wanted to hop into the backseat with her grand-mom), after which she casually opened the back door and got in.

I was dumbfounded. I couldn’t even muster the strength to do anything about it, despite having a thousand thoughts running in my head. There is a mother out there in an office,  hoping her small girl is taken care of by family and an employee. There is an educated woman in her 50’s who is well aware of what happens around her, but  apparently believes that nothing can go wrong with her family. And there is also a spectator who can do nothing about all this, fearing the “Mind your own business” line coming her way.

I still can’t make up my mind on which could be worse, an accident on the road, or a traumatic incident of child abuse!

Surprise parties!

Who doesn’t love surprise parties?

Yet, if the only way to celebrate a birthday is by throwing a surprise party – at some point, not having one becomes the surprise!

I am a mother of two, and when my first born went to a playschool nearby 4 years ago, I made friends with other first time mothers. Over these years, the group has grown from 4 to 12. This gang of girls has been meeting up for weekend dinners, weekday brunches, weekend lunches. More recently, it has been meeting up, without fail, to give a birthday surprise to one of the girls.

There is a specific pattern to this now... we all talk about it when we meet, or through sms, or Facebook message and fix a time (maybe a date too, when the person is not in town on the birthday). Then we conspire with the husband of the birthday girl to ensure she is available to be surprised. We also pick up balloons, flowers, cake, gifts and generally walk in on her and catch her unawares. We then take photographs and enjoy the moment for a few more days after that.

Our first one was in June last year. All day we called Shreya, wished her, and wanted to know what plans she had for the evening, and she only said, she was going to be tired and would just want to hit the sack. She returned at 9:00pm and the nice husband made excuses and ensured she didn’t go to bed until 10:00pm. The gang of girls, assembled at her door, with big balloons, a lit candle on the cake, camera on, and when she answered the door, she was not surprised at all! The poor girl was shocked to hear a loud happy birthday and ‘Surprise’ screamed into her ears.

The second one was mine. I share my birthday with Shreya’s daughter, so at the little one’s birthday party, there is one more cake for me, and apart from the mothers and kids, a father (my husband) also appears at closing time to celebrate mine. But last year, one mother pretended she needed my help to supervise her sleeping baby at 9:15am when she had to rush out for a doctor’s appointment. So I landed up at her place after sending my kids off to school, and she made me wait outside her house for ten mins, because she had stepped into the shower.  She finally opened the door to let me in, and I got that shocking ‘Surprise’ scream too. One of my most memorable birthdays, it felt so warm and lucky to have such lovely friends.

Next was Amrita’s. We all landed up outside her building at 9:15am when she had gone to drop off her child at school. The idea was to surprise her at the lobby when she returned, but one of us got delayed, so we had to sit with the cake, gift, balloons inside the car outside her building. We watched her walking into the building, peering into the car and driver’s face (whom she did recognize). We gave her 5 mins, and then went up to her place and gave her the surprise. I still don’t believe she really got one, having seen us downstairs already.

Preeti hasn’t updated her Facebook profile with her birthday. So we didn’t even know it came and went. We were all on Diwali vacation and couldn’t plan anything. But we ensured we walked in on her one morning when she was down with backpain and resting. She was on the phone giving a list to her grocer, and we screamed ‘Surprise’. Her mother was resting on the couch in the living room, and was completely oblivious to what was happening around, until she suddenly woke up to see 6 women having cake, giggling and talking loudly. I am sure we ended up giving her, her grocer and her mother a big surprise.

Meghna was pregnant with her 2^nd child, and was sitting at her window at 10am. She suddenly saw balloons bobbing towards her house, and realized what was coming her way. I am actually glad tahat she happened to see us, I wonder what impact a “Surprise” scream would have had on the baby. More than the surprise or the cake, I think what she enjoyed the most was the gift we gave her  -  a nice hand and foot massage at a nearby parlor.

Last night was Sujatha’s turn. We all decided to gang up at her place at 10pm and surprise her. But the Surprisers ended up being more surprised. 

The first surprise was when I didn’t find my friend at her pick up point. Then we landed up earlier than planned at a second friend’s place. When we were driving to the birthday girl’s place, a third  friend called us very sheepishly asking us why we hadn’t reached, since she had already sent Sujatha an sms saying “How was the surprise?” A fourth friend didn’t land up; we called her only to find that she was at home going to bed, since she had got the dates all wrong.

We finally went up to the birthday girl’s door and rang the bell. We were quite sure that she would  be waiting for us, thanks to the sms. Thankfully, she thought she misread some sms and didn’t know what was happening, so ignored it.

What a surprise it was, to see that she was actually surprised!!!!

Moving moves!

Moving homes is a huge challenge for people of all ages.

As a 5 yr old, we moved from a bungalow to a one bedroom outhouse when I lost my father. I was happy to be in a smaller place; since the entire family would spend almost all the time in that one room, I felt more secure. But I missed the space the old house gave me to play and cycle around, and the view that the front sit-out gave me, of a school and a telephone exchange.

As a 9 yr old, we moved from Bangalore to my uncle’s place in Chennai. It was the home that all of us cousins would visit during our summer holidays. It used to be baking hot, but the company and open air play in the garden made up for the heat. So, the move meant a permanent stay at my annual holiday destination. I was most excited, and didn’t even miss the 2 good friends I had made in Bangalore by then.

I spent a good 15 yrs in this home in Chennai, made friends from school, college, neighbourhood and had starting working too. Then my mother and I moved to her apartment in the same area, which brought no changes in my life other than the fact that it was a smaller place, and had no garden. At that age, it was insignificant.  The next move was to another area, again in Chennai, when I got married. Nothing changed here too, other than the excitement of doing the apartment up from scratch, all by myself.

The moves after this were to Mumbai and then back to Chennai, this time as a stay at home mom with a 6 month old baby.  We then moved to Gurgaon for 9 months, and have now back in Mumbai for the last 4 years, to what I call home!

Across all this, I have realized a few things.

The only thing that matters to a toddler when the family moves, is the security the parent offers before and after the move. Children adjust so quickly. Friends and comfort zone hardly matter to them, as long as they 

have their parents, their toys, bed, clothes around them.

It is highly depressing for a teenager who is out most of the time, hanging out with friends for hours on end. It is very difficult to move out of an area where you have grown from a child into a teenager. It is also an age when they are trying to make sense of their own identity and character, and the task of making new friends is not any easier.

A young woman has excitement, anxiety and fear when moving to her new home when she is just married. It sometimes takes her years to adjust to her surroundings, her husband and his family.  When this woman moves with an infant, she is worried about the support she will get from family and friends to make the transition easy.

When she moves with a toddler, her support system and the toddler’s security is of utmost importance.  Beyond this stage, her challenges are school admissions and other responsibilities to ensure that her home runs smoothly despite the move.

An elderly person worries the most when a move happens. While the anxiety can be compared to the one that the toddler might experience, the other challenges are proximity to doctors, hospitals, temples, a park where they can interact with other elders etc. If they have already established a routine in the old place, it emotionally affects them until they are able to mirror the same routine in the new place.

A family member or a very close friend may move out of town. If it is for a happy reason, the feelings are mixed. But it affects you in a big way if you are really close and they are the people who build your comfort zone.

However, Moves do remind you of the fact that “Change is the only permanent thing in our lives!” and so, it makes it more interesting. A positive outlook, high energy levels and some excitement is all that it takes to make the transition smooth.

But the really surprising thing about moves, is that the Men are never really affected by them. Even though, more often than not, they are the ones who cause it. The number of hours spent at home is hardly comparable to a woman (unless she is on a full-time job herself), and what matters is just the family, the familiar furniture, TV and a bottle of beer!

If only more of us were so lucky......