Home sweet Home

Four years and a few months ago, I had rushed after work to the eastern part of the city to house hunt. We were planning to get married and one essential part of the plans was to have a place of our own to start with. Till then both of us were living with respective parents.

It was an attempt at trying our hands at setting up home a second time having tried our best and failing the first time round with other partners. Everything about this second attempt had a bitter sweet tinge. The bitterness came from already knowing that marriage is not a ‘happily ever after’ and the sweetness from the fact that we had grown to love and respect each other and were expecting to remain friends above everything else.

He had checked out a couple of places already, some too dingy, others way above what we could afford. The property dealer took us to the gates of a corner house late in the evening. The landlord an elderly Kashmiri gentleman asked his man Friday to take us around the first floor which was to be let for rent.

( our first lily!)

We walked up the broad stairs not expecting much. Till the guy opened the front door and we walked in. I do not exaggerate when I say that I had straight away walked into my own home. It felt so right. Big rooms, terrace and a kitchen that ran on. The house in all honesty was probably too big for the two of us. But we couldn’t refuse it.

The landlord was waiting when we walked down and asked many a question and also couldn’t help asking what just the two of us would do with so much space. We just grinned and said we would find our uses.

(our all faith Puja place)

That’s how we had found the place that has been home for the past four years. I still remember moving in our few belongings and then planning and saving so that we could slowly put together a home and a few creature comforts. Since we couldn’t buy expensive wall paintings we found old calendars with nice pictures and got those framed in an attempt to enliven our home. The few close friends who visited exclaimed at the size of the house and am sure also inwardly wondered at why was it so empty, though they were too kind to mention it to us.

Together over years we managed to build a home we were happy to return to. Years that have seen tremendous upheavals and also brought huge happiness, all shared and experienced in this home.

A home to which we have welcomed our friends and family to share in our joy. A home to which we introduced our children Janvi, Buttercup and Aarini.

Our landlords Kaw uncle and aunty have also come to mean a lot, not interfering in the least and actually bearing quite a few troubles they have been a huge comfort and support. Will miss them much.

Now that it is time to move on, much like the gypsies we keep romanticizing so much and want to be like, I am in two minds. On one hand is the excitement of moving to a new place, doing up a new home on the other is the regret of leaving behind the home I have grown to love.

We may move on to many places but I think this place will always be special to us and bring a smile whenever remembered.

Sri Lanka - Aarini's first trip abroad

I had planned to write a long post on this much awaited trip. The plan had been to relive the whole thing once again through the blog.

Work.

Baby.

Dog.

Home.

Laziness.

All however conspired to make a whole month pass before I could even get on to the blog.

So finally I am here to write about Aarini’s first trip abroad.

We landed in at Bandaranaike International Airport at about 4 pm. As promised by makemytrip a brand new Nissan Bluebird and an effervescent Pious Silva were waiting for us at the exit gate.

We were happy to be on holiday.

A forty km ride into main Colombo through markets thronging with Christmas shoppers took a good part of two hours. We were however too busy marveling at the sites, checking the similarities between our island neighbours and us to mind the trip too much.

The first night of our trip was spend at The Grand Oriental Hotel which was set up in the 1800’s by royal decree and has since then been ceaselessly entertaining guests. It also happened to be our anniversary – so cutting a cake was in order.

Early next morning we were off to the ancient city of Anuradhapura.

A visit to the temple of the Sacred Bo tree. Checking out awe inspiring Buddhist architecture. Mind you all that you see in the pictures have been around since before Christ.

And then retiring to the Galway Forest Lodge for the evening. The lodge is build right next to a huge lake and is a perfect laidback place to laze in.

We however had other plans so the next day sees us zooming towards Sri Lanka’s third capital Kandy. Situated in the hills, Kandy reminds on of the British settled hill stations of India – its almost a mix of Shimla and Nainital. Good shopping, droolworthy bakeries and a very pleasant climate makes Kandy my favorite amongst the cities I visited. The lake in the center of the city and next to the Temple of the Tooth Relic makes it a picturesque city. Kandy also boasts Sri Lanka’s biggest university. Signage claiming easy Indian visas abound – making us feel quite proud. J

We stayed at Hotel Topaz which was build on top of a hill.

The next day morning dad and daughter decided they would have a splash session in the swimming pool no matter what Momma said. And off they went.

Aarini checked out the water a bit tentatively first but then was very happy to plunge in with Dad.

Breakfast and then another short ride to the hill station of Nuwara Eliya – the highest point in the island country. Nuwara Eliya was a bit of a dampener as it rained ceaselessly there – making the climate damp and cold. We were happy to be inside our well appointed hotel room, lazing around and watching the rain. This hotel was a part of the Galway forest chain though we felt the one in Anuradhapura was much better in terms of facilities.

We did take a short trip around the town though – I was very eager to see a Church and did go to one. Sadly it was closed.

The next day we began our descent to the sea beach of Mirissa.

Travelling through villages, jungles, towns and finally we arrived at the beach resort.

The Indian Ocean was spread infront and the hotel right at its edge. This was bliss.

Aarini also quickly learnt to swim in the kiddie pool which became the highlight of Parry’s fortieth birthday.

Two days at Mirissa and then it was time for us to head back to Colombo for our homeward flight.

Aarini fact file:

Though we carried her formula milk and some cerelac, apart from her regular milk diet she tried and ate almost everything we did there.

She likes fruits and was happy to have decent quantities of the same. Sri Lanka being a tropical country had an abundance of fruits – mangoes, bananas, pineapples, peach, coconut, rambootans kept her happily fed.

She also discovered that she can hold and eat a French fry on her own which delighted her no end.

Aarini had no trouble sitting inside a moving vehicle for long stretches.

Miracle Maker Milestones

Dear Miracle maker,

You are almost nine months old now. That’s as many months outside of me as inside. Makes me feel a little queer but immensely proud too.
From being a lil Rajma (the first time the doc showed you to me in an ultrasound that’s what you looked like, a small rajma bean inside a big empty bag) you have now grown to be almost two feet tall. From being unable to turn on your side you can now climb up tables, chairs, infact even things that are not meant to be climbed, like fabrics.
When Dadda and I first got to know about your quite entry into our life, the times were turbulent and they continue to be so…but your smile which changes from innocent to wicked to naughty to ‘know it all’ keeps us on our tracks. You are as much a Miracle maker now as you were when inside me. Before you were born we didn’t know what gender you would be, you see the laws of our lands forbid it cause some Goddess worshippers can’t tolerate it when girls are born into their families. I am hoping that by the time you are old enough to read and understand this, the law would not be needed any more. So coming back to what I was telling you, since we didn’t know if you would be a boy or a girl we kept looking and debating on names for both.
However we didn’t fix on any one name for a girl, till the time we got into the car to drive to the hospital. That’s when we decided that if it’s a girl we will call her Aarini meaning an adventurer.
So it happened that on 24th feb you were born and our Aarini arrived.
Since we named you Aarini we had to ensure that you travelled a lot and were a fearless adventurer. Hence the first step was to organize a passport for you. Your Dadda did all the paperwork and in less than two months time we had your passport in hand.
The next step then was to plan some trips. The first trip had to be to visit your J didi. And we took you to Bangalore the moment you turned six months old. You behaved admirably through the trip and the flight apart from a nasty five minutes during landing, when as a first time mom I had no clue about what to do while you screamed in agony as your ears got blocked.
Your first meeting with J didi was so beautiful and both of you took to each other so instantly that it brought tears to our eyes. We had anticipated and dreaded this moment for so long.
The full five hours J didi was allowed to stay with us she kept holding on to you. Even helped me clean and feed you and I felt so very blessed. Your Dadda’s beaming face was telling its own story.

The next part of our plans was to ensure that you have a visa stamp on your passport in the same year as of your birth. Of course the long term plan is to ensure that we can do it every year. You can call it a selfish plan too since both Dadda and I love travelling ;)
So we debated and checked locations and of course budgets for where we could go. Eventually we decided on Sri Lanka – it seemed to promise everything, sea, mountains, heritage, history, shopping and relaxation at the same time. It also happens to be on my list of must see places. We have got our tickets and are scheduled to accompany you on your first international trip in December. I am hoping this trip is the first of many, many such trips and that you can truly do justice to your name by travelling a lot both within the country and outside.
Signing off with loads of love and kisses,
Mamma

The Blog & Me

This blog happened when life felt like it was falling apart, or atleast the known predictable parts of it. Moving out of a marriage, trying to correct my professional and personal life at the same time, rediscovering my strengths and correcting my weaknesses – they were turbulent times.

Till then I had been a ‘good girl’ by opting to get out of a marriage I had overnight turned into a monster. It didn’t matter that I had tried my best without a murmur of protest for close to three years. It didn’t matter that my then husband drank like a fish and nothing in the world would get him to stop and reconsider his drinking habits – neither pleadings nor threats.

I was the black girl who had brought ill name to the family by being the first ever to ask for a divorce. Its completely fine to keep having fights, walking out and then reconciling under pressure from family and friends again and again. But DIVORCE was not acceptable.

The letter I wrote to my uncle in an attempt to make him understand my situation was mailed back to my husband and he dangled it infront of my face to show me how little my family cared for me or my feelings.

Through all this my blog was my only release point. It was here that I came to vent my frustration and anger. Inorder to keep my sanity I had moved out of home to a PG and used to travel frequently on weekends to get some peace of mind….and honestly also to get away from this city where I used to feel accusing eyes on me all the time. The blog was my confidante whom I came back to and told my stories to, some real, some imagined.

Those travels helped kickstart a dormant imagination. And I started writing fiction, even had the pleasure to see a short story published in a magazine. Then I escaped to Bombay with a new job. A new city, unknown, non-judging people, the open sea close at hand. Anonymity. I loved it.

Meanwhile I had forged new friendships through the blog. People whose faces were unknown to me and yet I had seen glimpses of their soul through their blogs.

Life seemed livable. Even seemed to have possibilities.

I returned to Delhi only once the divorce came through. And the terror of the filthy phone calls had reduced.

Got married again, albeit hesitatingly. Set up home yet again and for a while life was the way it should be for any couple. We enjoyed each other’s company, went to art galleries, film screenings, events and cultural festivals. Travelled often. Escaped to the neighbouring hills whenever we had a bit of time and money.

Cooked and ate together, often from the same plate.

Then things started to change again. Duties, responsibilities and work started to take their toll. Now we no longer sit and sip coffee while planning or daydreaming our next trip out of town. We don’t make elaborate lists of must do’s and must haves.

We just divide the chores list and see who can do what. We don’t yet say it out loud but we probably also think that the other could have done a tad more and expected a tad less of us.
And life goes on rather trudges along.

And I am back on my blog trying to make sense of it all, trying to let some steam out in the hopes of being able to handle it all for a bit longer, a bit more.

Durga Pujo 2011

Little girls are worshipped as Goddesses in Northern India, indeed in most parts of the country. Though one gets to see it most in the North (perhaps as compensation for the lousy sex ratio that their money ensures).

Whatever it be, the fact remains that this year we had our little girl, Aarini accompanying us on our pandal visits. And it was a nice experience.

What remained missing for the second year running is a glimpse of Janvi during pujas. Trust she had a good time there in Bangalore. I am hoping I can meet her again soon and the sisters can continue to love and greet each other with the same spontaneity as the first time all their life.

A few glimpses of the pujos we visited:

This pandal took the theme of the Ajanta Ellora caves and did up the whole place with eco-friendly material. Remarkable.

Dad, Daughter and Durga

Our neighbourhood pujo

Mom and Antara (our house guest as Parry likes to introduce her)

Though you can barely see whats happening on stage. I still thought its a worth putting up picture.

The play being staged is a Nazrul play whose characters are all Muslim.

A dear blogger friend Sumanto was part of the cast.

I wonder how many other communities could boast of such a feat at a event which is essentially religious in nature.

I am afraid

I was out with two junior colleagues at work to eat golgappas and generally have fun.
Heard a child bawling, wondered who it was and then while getting back to the car. Saw a middle aged woman carrying a child of 5-6 years. The child was crying er heart out.

I stepped infront of them and tried to talk to her, hoping the interruption would stop her from crying further.

The woman explained that the child was her grand daughter whose mother (the woman's daughter) had died and therefore the woman was looking after the child. She seemed to be of limited means and said that she couldnt afford to buy the toy the child was asking for and had instead got her a balloon, some biscuits and toffee as compensation.

I was in half a mind to ask her where the toy shop was, so that I could buy the toy for the child before realizing that I would set a bad precedent.

Instead I kept talking to the child and got her to forget her toy for a while atleast.
She got friendly enough to smile for the camera also.

It was on the way back that suddenly the image of the woman and child got interchanged with that of my Mom and Aarini and I grew afraid.

The thought of a motherless child stayed with me all the way home. And for the first time in my life I prayed to God that I may live long enough to see my daughter grown up and strong.

A bengali sunday

The perks of being a senior is being able to Boss around and get people to do the things you want them to.
For the past month I have had three starry eye interns working in the team. Good kids with some smart ideas. It has meant a lot of lively chatter in office, squeals at lunch time and not to mention the entire male workforce looking smart, talking smart and working smart all in an effort to impress the youngsters.
Two of the kids finished their internship and were getting back to college and since all of them have been curious about Aarini and Buttercup I thought it would be nice to have them all over at my place.
The bunch arrived diligently on Sunday afternoon bearing very pretty gifts for me and Aarini. And I like the true Boss told them that they have to eat a pure Bengali lunch and no one can pass over anything. Everything on the plate has to be finished only then the next course would be served. (Told you there are perks of being the Boss)
The bunch consisted of:
Suman - from Gorakhpur, studying Art in Coimbatore.- did her internship with us last year has been in touch ever since.
Sanket – a tam brahm who loves fish, pursuing English honours in DU
Priyanka – a Delhi bong, who speaks accented Bangla and dances to rabindra sangeet also pursuing English honours in DU
Smitha – a bong from Guwahati, got her degree from Rabindra Bharati
Astha – actually from Jaipur, leader of the brigade. Working with me for the past one year. Is mostly sensible.
Now to tell you about the lunch that we served to this bunch:
1. Ucche kumro bhaaja – with the bunch making various kind of faces.
2. Mussor dal, gondho lebu with macher deemer bora – which was lapped up by all especially Sanket, who couldn’t resist picking up the last pakora.
3. Pui saag with macher matha – they had heard about the bongs fascination with all that is fishy. Now they witnessed it. To give credit to the kids they did finish it too, no mean feat.
4. Chingri maacher malai curry – Priyanka yelped at the mention of prawns and the grins all around showed we had hit the right gastronomic nerve
5. Chicken curry – made the bong way, no fancy stuff – just chicken and jhol
6. A green salad – to go with all of the above
7. Amrar teeler tok - a tangy syrupy chatni to wrap it all up with.

The kids said the loved the adventure into Bongland. I have told them that I will believe them only if they come back again for more. Otherwise its mere politeness.
Had a good time, Aarini was delighted with all the attention and Mom felt good feeding so many young people.
Over all a nice Sunday afternoon – thanks folks. Hope we can do this again soon.

Life after Baby!

Life they said would change a lot after I became a mom. They said priorities would change. So I thought I should chronicle the change and sat down to write this post.

And came upon a surprising revelation – my life hasn’t changed at all. Apart from being happier I don’t find any change in me (we will carefully not mention the extra inches around the waist here, life after all is much more than body shape, isn’t it? ISN’T IT? ).

Now what therefore needs to be investigated is : "How come my life hasn't changed at all?"

The reasons I found were primarily these:

Aarini – she is a happy child (touchwood), doesn’t behave in a cranky fashion, sleeps through the night, cries lustily when hungry but stops the moment food (actually drink) is provided, chatters nonstop while awake – like dad she is a good story teller. And is a sweetheart in a crowd – whether a party scenario or mall – stays playful and curious but never cries. Love you baby.

Mom – that’s my Mom. She is staying with us. She takes care of Aarini, keeps having these intense gossip sessions with her which keep both nani and grandchild absolutely engrossed. Having Mom means I don’t feel guilty about leaving Aarini home whether for work or party cause I know she is being look aftered in the best possible way. (This ensures I don’t turn cranky). Thank God for Moms. (I mean of the Mom variety, my kind wouldn’t be much help I suppose).

Parry – he is good around Aarini, can change diapers and baby sit pretty effectively (the previous experience helps of course). He also doesn’t say I can’t do certain things because I have a baby to take care of. Basically lets me be me (which includes my going away for a four day trip in ten days time) which goes a long way in keeping me happy ;)

Lalita : the maid. She is very effective around Aarini. Runs if she ever hears a whimper. Has a lot of negatives but her handling of Aarini is superb. She has gone back home now but my list would have been incomplete without her. She was a lot of help especially around the time Aarini was born and soon after.

So there – you have the secret of my happiness now go make yours.

The Saga of Birth & Rebirth

All of us have heard the story of the Phoenix at some time or the other. Some of us would have also heard about the Thorn Bird as well. Both stories run parallel about a small bird willingly sacrificing life, either through fire or the piercing of the heart with a thorn kills itself, to be reborn again.

All this to me was a myth till seven days ago. A pretty story to be smiled at and a foolish bird to be pitied for its need for a largely unnecessary even if heroic sacrifice and pain endurance.

This was seven days ago and then all of it came true for me. My Miracle Maker or in other words the baby I was carrying in my womb was due around the end of February. And on the 23^rd during a scheduled visit to the doctor I was advised to get admitted to the hospital the same day. The doc felt it would be judicious to not wait anymore for a natural birth and go in for an induced labour.

I got admitted the that very night, was strapped to a Nuchal Stress Test machine which could on one hand monitor the baby’s heart beat and on the other the contractions my body was having in an attempt to bring the baby out into the world.

To help the process various injections and gels were used so that the baby could have a safe and smooth passage. This however was not to be, so after enduring the contractions which kept getting worse as the hours progressed, for about fourteen hours , I was finally taken into the OT for a Caesarian section. And this is when the stories of the Phoenix and the Thorn Bird became true as I signed the document agreeing to the procedure.

After some basic preparations I got wheeled into the OT. And before I could take in the atmosphere or orient myself, I was told to sit up for a ‘small injection’ in the back. What they didn’t mention was that the injection would be given in the gap between the spinal bones and was extremely painful. That done and with a tingling sensation taking over my body I was made to lie down with an oxygen mask. And soon after I heard the wailing of a child only to realize a second later that this was my own child.

She was briefly shown to me and then the nurse followed by two doctors took her out of the OT, while I lay there being stitched up.

The doctors having delivered safely became chatty and were soon discussing their next meeting of the local gynae chapter and the sort of participation to be expected, over my cut belly. Very much like you or me might discuss the latest from work over a cut cake.

All this I could hear though I felt nothing apart from a few tugs now and then. Twenty odd minutes later it was my turn to be wheeled out and I was put in a room with another set of monitoring machines that kept a check on my heart beat, pressure etc.

It was then that I saw that my BP had plunged to about 123/38 and slowly felt my lower body to discover that my stomach onwards everything was so bloated up that it felt like a taut balloon. As I puzzled over this phenomenon first my mom and then husband walked in. Their faces showing the relief at having seen the child and me both safe and sound.

An hour or so later, I was again wheeled out this time to a room in the in-patient section of the hospital. The moment I reached there I was surrounded by friends and the air was thick with warm wishes and happy smiles. Buoyed by the anaesthesia in the blood and the relief of it being over, I chatted away with them, being my usual witty self. And as my husband later commented, distributing the largesse of my ‘gyan’ freely and widely.

Later that evening, after checking with me, my little baby was brought to me, and I was told I could keep her with me as she was doing well. They wanted to know if I would want the child to be given a top-up feed and I declined as I had been told time and time again that mother’s milk is best for baby. And then when I tried to move my body to accommodate Aarini did I realize the pain and discomfiture that the operation had given. I could barely move. And yet feed I must.

The pain progressively grew worse and as the anesthesia wore off, I became increasingly aware of the mountain of pain that I needed to climb before I could hit the valley of recovery.

The nurse offered a sleep inducing injection, at least for a few hours; I would be oblivious to the pain. But I refused. What if my daughter wanted to be fed during those very hours? Today, sitting on the comp , on the seventh day, at home, with Aarini blissfully sleeping in front of me, I pen down this experience . Not because it’s unique, there are thousands across the world, who go through this every minute even as I write, but because I want to chronicle what it was like to get her into this world. And perhaps, keep a record for her to read some day. I am still unable to talk in more than a whisper as a louder voice causes pain. So does laughing, sneezing and coughing. Walking from the bedroom to the attached washroom is still an ordeal. And turning sides while lying down is a difficult art, I am relearning it gradually.

But much like the phoenix and the thorn bird, I have a song on my lips as I go through all this. Cause the Miracle maker is finally here.

The Wait is over and the Miracle is here

and here is what the co-creator has to say about it!