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......

Photography and Death!

My 5 yr old is currently crazy and obsessed about these two topics. 

Photography – The craze!

It started a couple of months ago when he was gifted a toy camera by a friend. He went clicking all day and was quite happy to show me his imaginary pictures on the pretend viewer. Over time, I noticed that he took care of this one as well as we did our Canon Digicam. He would put it in its pouch and keep it at a specific spot in his toy chest, and let his 2 yr old brother use it only with proper instructions and supervision.

I also noticed that he chose some very interesting subjects to capture, and felt sorry that he couldn’t actually save them. To name a few - When his 2 yr old brother, did something new and exciting (which included, the first time he ever used the toilet to pee). He took pictures of me when I sported something new (didn’t spare my oiled hair look). Unusual views of animals or birds (a pair of parrots on the tree outside our window, indulging in some public display of affection). Two, Three, Four Wheelers on the road, when we are out (half an hour well spent in a traffic jam, when his parents were going bananas over reaching 15 mins late for a doctor’s appointment).

So, one morning I sat him down, and taught him how to use my camera. How to put the picture within the frame, click with a firm grip and wait for the flash, and then admire the picture. He was overjoyed when I told him he was allowed to take a few pictures everyday. He would then come running to me at odd times and ask for permission to use it, and justify the effort with a lovely picture.

I hope this craze sticks, and becomes a lovely hobby he will be proud of someday.

Death – The obsession!

This has been going on for about 6 months now. It started when I lost my very close friend in Chennai, and he saw me grieving. He had never seen his mother so unhappy. He concluded that death is something really unpleasant and it can shake one's core. So now he wanted to know how, why, when, etc.

I found his questions very logical, though the answers were difficult. But yes, I made an honest attempt to ensure that I gave him the facts as well as I could, while also trying to keep it simple enough for a 5 yr old. There really is no right or wrong answer here and I think I have done the best I could.

He talks about death at least once everyday ... either comes up with questions about a specific person, or a general query on the subject, or after life, or God, or simply shares his thoughts. One of these sessions a couple of months ago even resulted in “I am scared of God!” But we have sailed through each day with more information, less fear, and a happy ending.

The Combo – Crazy Obsession

One late afternoon, I was in the middle of cleaning up my 2 yr old (takes about 10 mins) after a marathon paint session. I heard the older brother running up to the bathroom and asking me if he could use my camera. He seemed highly excited, so I said yes.

Just as he ran out of the room, I asked him what he was going to take a picture of. His excited, high pitched answer came “Mamma, I saw a murder!” I started to panic!

The small one wanted to run after him, so I had to do a quick job of cleaning him up, but it still took me a good 5 mins. Then I frantically ran from room to room, window to window looking for the gory image in my mind, dreading the impression it would make on the 5 yr old. After what seemed like hours, I could neither find the gory picture, nor my son. When I finally called out to him, he came jumping and skipping happily from the balcony, all smiles, camera in hand, and proudly showed me the picture.

Just a few days before this incident, he and I were reading a book on animals and birds. We went through an interesting list of collective nouns here. Obviously, my 35 yr old brain didn’t retain as much as his 5 yr old one did.

The picture that I saw in the Canon’s viewer brought shame, pride, and most of all relief! It was the view from my hall window, the tall coconut trees, the neighbor's terrace, its grey unpainted walls, and right on the parapet? At least a hundred crows.