About a holiday...

I have been threatened at gun point, bullied , coaxed, cajoled and generally been abused for not posting anything.

No, not really, but i sense that coming my way . Subtle messages are being sent out.

We went off to the jungles of Corbett for the weekend and enjoyed a 'proper holiday'. I did not look at the watch, did not stress myself out thinking about my commute, missed all sorts of communication with the outside world, and have the most amazing weekend.

A holiday with children conjures up the image of a good looking place, complete with a resort with all amenities, enough entertainment to keep the child occupied, swimming pool for the grown ups to spend time on..and service on call.

Instead, the smart people that we are, went off to Corbett with a bunch of friends, in biting cold, to a place completely inaccessible by public transport, with no electricity, no swimming pool, no games for children, and no TV!!

I saw a whole new side to the 5 year old. He walked and walked for three days, made friends with every person in that camp, held their fingers and walked around,met the 8 dogs that the owners keep, fell in love with them, played with dogs twice his size, watched birds, listened to their calls, and just..walked! ( we shall not talk about the mealtime fights here and how he managed to get apple juice on demand from the kitchen).

Some holidays leave impressions on you....pictures in your mind that photographs cannot do justice to, smells that bring back moments, voices that remind you of conversations.....

--- of crushed leaves during an elephant safari...

the way the child laughed when he reached out to tall grass sitting on the elephant...

going back for second helpings of the most awesome porridge in the world..

the crackling of the campfire and the quite noise of fryums being eaten by a dozen people in darkness...

the majestic sambhar deer looking straight at our eyes while waiting for us to move on , so his baby can cross that road...

The thrill of first time angler seeing the fish he caught...

V saying 'bye fish" when we let it go back..

hot water bags in a freezing bed...

Father son moments that one wants to treasure forever...

Enjoying the sun lying out in the middle of no where...

Company of genuine people...

Amazing conversations...

...... doing nothing,and feeling completely good about it.

Holidays like this, are truly the stuff fantasies are made of.

A tag...

1.Whom do you remember when in deep shit? God, Mommy, Dad, etc
God- in any form, and TB.

2.Whats your favourite swear word?
Shit! and under my breath , the F word too.

3. When in mixed company, how do you describe your strap when it can be seen?
I usually do not say anything, just go ahead and correct it.

4. When in mixed company, how do you talk about your period?
Never had the reason to speak about it in unknown mixed group. With the known group, i say pretty much what i want to..

5. Which actor have you had the longest crush on?
None, really!

6. Did you have a fun nickname in your college days?
Not that i know of. may be i should ask others if there was one...

A child's worth

I am sitting next to the feverish kid, stroking his hair, and patting him off to sleep, while he mumbles in meftal induced drowsiness. It is 2 AM and my eyelids are giving up.

The grandmother comes over from her room, sits on one end of the bed and strokes his legs. I tell her to get some sleep, this nocturnal exercise is not going to help her BP. She refuses, stays.

I am holding the kids hands, and notice some tiny cuts and bruises that were not there earlier. I examine them like a painter who has just discovered a speck of dirt on his precious artwork. It hurts to see the blackened knee, the red line on the ankle and elbows. I am chasing that one elusive mosquito that is hovering around his head, with continued vigour.

I turn to look at what grandma has discovered while i was busy being besotted with love and displaying in unabashedly, and realize, that it is me she looking at the. She holds my palms and strokes them, looks at the wrinkles at the elbows, tucks in one stray hair behind my ear....

....just like a painter who has discovered a speck of dust on his precious artwork.

Right there, in that moment, i realize a child's worth to the mother and realize how blessed i am.

Matching and match making

Vasanthi took a sip of coffee and mentally noted that it tasted nothing like what she made at home. "Has to be machine coffee"- she said to herself, and looked at Narayanan to convey her opinion. He was lost in tea, and the taking in the house and the imported stuff around. She sighed! he was always that way, never worried about future.

But she was the mother, she had to be worried. Aparna was their only child. This was her life they were to judge.

This was to happen, she thought. The moment you send a girl of marriageable age to work in another city, you mentally prepare to be able to face this day. There was nothing wrong with the boy- he was smart, had a good job, family sounded decent, but they were US returned.

In the last five minutes that she was in the house, she sensed that their living was nothing like that of a palakkad iyer family. How would aparna fit in? She might get along with the boy, but will his family be able to accept apu as she is- despite his assurances that they were not all that US influenced.

Their first visit, and no family at home.Just the boy's mother and brother and the servants- is this how a " veedu pakkal" was done? She wanted to nudge narayanan and tell him her opinion then and there. But he rolled his eyes.. and made her keep her mouth shut.

But then, she found nothing against them. They were happy with apu working, they were not insisting the couple stay with them after marriage, and they did not want anything from the girls side.

Vasanthi was still troubled...she still was missing a link. A thread of familiarity that would make her feel this was 'the' family for apu to be at. Well, she would have to just tell apu that something about the entire thing was bothering her and she needs time.

Her face told narayanan what he needed to know. It was time for them to leave. He figured it was not going to be easy to explain this to aparna, but it had to be done.

Vasanthi asked to use the the bathroom before she left , she was led into the house, filled with alien looking gadgets and fixtures that worried her to no end. She dried her face with the fluffy towel and mentally framed her response to aparna.

Then, from the corner of the eye, she saw it- the dried loofah stuck behind the window pane, and the small square of stone in a corner to scrub feet, and the several bindi's stuck on the mirror...

She smiled, this must be the sign- they were not so different after all.

She walked out to tell narayanan that maybe, this was the place. She had just found the missing link..

Of being mother goose...

I have been...always ready with a word of advise, a plan, a way forward such stuff....the quentessential mother goose of the premises- keeper of secrets, agony aunt.

Always wondered what made people turn to me? Not that it mattered,still!

But now,

I have this small tidbits of conversation with someone in the family i am very fond of, almost everyday. She is battling grief of magnitude and kind that a lot many of us have never been exposed to.

She asks me questions, and i hesitate to respond. I can't just be agony aunt to her and give her a pep talk on " all will be well" or " this is destiny". There are enough people to tell her that. The magnitude of her questions overwhelm me. I have to step into her shoes, think over how i would react and respond in a situation and then reply to her.

I realize then the difference between advicing and guiding .

Advice i can- because the consequences are for the implementer to face. But a guide cannot- the hand needs to be held till the end of the cliff, and make sure they land on their feet.

I don't know if what i say makes a difference in her thought process, or for that matter if they are even registering in her mind now. None of what is say may translate into her life, ever.

But for me, i am forced to re think the way i respond to people- reciprocating the faith, the responsibility that comes along, and the realization that this is what i stand for in life.

Friday of paradoxes

It was a friday of paradoxes.

First was the guy who managed to ask the cab to take him to a different place, exactly the moment i asked to be taken to office, this after 15 mins of waiting for a cab!!! In true mumbai fashion, we decided to share the cab, since he had to cross my office to reach his destination, despite my apprehension of his appearance and demeanor.

So he got into the front seat with the driver, and we rode in silence( another of those gems of mumbai culture), and when i was alighting, handed him my share of the cab fare.

He turns to me and says " i would never ask my sister to share cab fare".And goes onto add" Have a good day sister", and moved on. Needless to say, i was happy that a stranger helped me.

The same evening, i waited outside the station to get an auto to take me home. After 25 mins, one conceded. A smartly dressed guy, carrying a laptop who was standing in line behind quickly came up and asked if he could share the auto as he was headed to the same place. I quickly thought back to the morning's incident, decided it was my chance to repay the niceties, and said " sure, we can"

This is what followed.....

Like every courteous stranger, we sat at extreme ends of the seat. I promptly started to read the " Brad Meltzer" book from where i left off. He was sitting crouched, with a hanky covering his nose, which i assume was dust protection.

>>>2 mins into the ride..

Me: Where exactly do you have to get down at C...?

He: Just before we reach there, i'll will tell you when we are about to reach.

Me: Ok.

>> 5 mins later...

He: I am not feeling too well.

Me: ok, so...what ?

He: Can i lie down on your lap?

Me: Of course not!!!!*stares daggers*

He : Please, i really went to lie down( he said 'want to' and not 'need to')

Me: *fuse blows** in my most threatening tone*. Ok, you could get down here, take another auto/cab . There will be enough place to lie down all the way to your home or maybe hospital.

He: Ok, i'll get down.

I had the auto guy stop and let off this man then and there. Then the auto guy and me had a hearty laugh. He drops me home and says" Appearances are so deceptive madam. He looked like he was a very decent office wala chap". ........So did i, buddy, so did i.

Lesson learnt, no more sharing autos. Niceties can go die!

The second step , or maybe the tenth, or 50th....

Sometime last year, i blogged about how i was fighting off the urge to be superwoman.

Six months down the year, i am fairly sure i have started getting comfortable with the pace of this journey.

My to do lists are shorter, and more doable. I can stay at home the whole day and not feel i have wasted productive hours. I can sit and watch TV/ read/ play with V without making a mental list of what is left to do around home.

I no longer feel guilty about spending 2 hours for a pedicure, or reading a book. The number of days we stay at home and do nothing have increased, so has our happiness quotient. Those are always the best days. The one's where we say, no plans for today- and while our Sunday away.

I still re arrange the cushions everytime i pass by the sofa, keep picking up toys and lose my head over lights and fans not switched off and wet towels on the bed.

I said i will start enjoying the journey. Who said anything about reforming myself? That is not going to happen, in a long long time.