Pinku-Enchanted Life

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 understan...

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 w...

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 a...

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 - fro...

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...

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 han...

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