It hurts to part..

 The feeling of emptiness when an enriching, warm, long-running engagement ends is so depressing. I finished Pachinko today - my first book of this year, and I am already missing it so bad. It was a long book and I have spent many wonderful hours with it. Some experiences have this quality of haunting you long after they get over. I am thinking of some other times when it hurt to part. 

1. Books: Atlas Shrugged, Totto chan, A suitable boy. 

2. TV series: Big Bang theory, Friends

3. Places:  Most places where I have spent a considerable time - my two homes in Allahabad, my apartment in Joka, my home for 4 years in Bangalore, my apartment in Hyderabad. Strangely, the 8 days spent in Udaipur + neighbouring places continue to haunt me. 

4. Workplaces: I only felt this for my last software company, Yodlee(now Envestnet) and my last company, Medtronic. Of course, I spent my longest time working in these two. And my school which I had attended for 14 years. Didn't feel much for either colleges. 

These are just off the top of my head, and heavily tainted with recency bias. Starting a new book tonight to ease the misery. So long!

Of birthday cakes..

I had mentioned Pari's birthday cake in a recent post. Most people who saw the cake were impressed with my idea of a piano cake as well the craft of the designer. My sister, however, wasn't. She felt that by ordering the cake, I am not putting any effort and insisted that I bake one for Pari. It is understandable. Sis bakes lovely cakes and dresses them so well that they can easily pass as store bought designer cakes. I have none of her talent, and zilch willingness to make extra work for myself. We ended up ordering a cake from a professional bakery but this incident reminded of some of the innovative cakes my parents had baked for my birthday. My mother is the kitchen goddess and baking queen. I think except for the first, second and a few later ones, she always baked cakes for my birthdays and continues to do so to this day. One cake that I specifically remember was the guitar cake for my 9th birthday. I was taking guitar classes at the time and my dad thought it was a cool idea to make a cake that reflected my current hobby. I have no clue how they did it. I may have been at school or my usual absent-minded self. I would imagine that Mom would have baked multiple cakes which Papa would have cut into shapes and decorated with chocolate and frosting. I just know that it was there on the table in the living room when I came to cut the cake, and I got super excited to see it. Fortunately, I still have a picture to show Pari.

Of being a bookworm..

 ..is a good reputation to have. Despite our endeavour to keep the event small and casual, Pari still received many presents for her birthday. Amongst them stood out 6 books presented by as many friends, who have known her for less than 6 months. 

Frankly, this was not a surprise to us. I still remember her 8th birthday, when we had hosted a big party for her including her friends, our friends, colleagues and relatives. Almost all the guests had got her books as presents. I had stacked the books in a neat pile next to the child, and it was almost as high as her! She had received so many sets of books - the Wind in the willows series, the Famous five series, multiple books from the the Wimpy kid and the Geronimo Stilton series amongst others. Pari was a fast reader even in those days and got through the books rather swiftly, post which I passed them on to other kids in our circle of friends and family.    

This year, the books are obviously, all grown-up like herself. I must admit that I am rather impressed with her friends' choices.. can't wait to get my hands on these!

       

Rhotacism

We learn so much from and because of kids. I learnt the word 'rhotacism' courtesy my little nephew S. His tendency to replace all R's & L's with V's and W's is a source of constant amusement in our family. We often imitate him in our casual conversations, and I have gotten so used to it that I once greeted my manager at work with: "Havvo, How aw wou?" Thankfully, he chose to ignore it like so many of my peculiarities. 

S is the most adorable, sweetest child that I have ever met. And it is not just me who is so smitten with him, every single person who interacts with S turns into a fan in no time. His genuine concern for all and his unusual kindness makes it quickly to your heart. His rhotacism just makes him all the more adorable. 

On that point, I recall this incident from last year this time. S was 3 at the time. I was visiting and had promised to take him and his older brother A to the aquarium. S was checking with me every few minutes on the start time.

S: When do we go to the aquarium?

M: In a short while.

25 seconds later..

S: When do we go to the aquarium?

M: Shortly. 

S: When?

M: We will go to the aquarium after I put my lipstick.

S: (brightens up) Whipstick whipstick!

M: Do you apply lipstick?

S: Yes!!

M: How?

S: (drawing finger circles around his mouth) wound and wound and wound..

I still think of this every time I apply a lipstick.

16 again..

..this time as a parent. I am wondering if that qualifies me as an expert. Frankly, I hit the motherhood jackpot and got a great deal - a extremely easy child to parent. So far, it has been a cakewalk, and if there is one thing that I don't want to change in my life - it is the child I have. I can count on my fingers, on one hand, the times or things that didn't work out between us. That is a lot given the 16 years together. Ok, why not! I will list the things that I didn't like about Pari.

1. Pari made me very very sick in-utero. I had the worst time and just about made it through. 

2. Pari didn't eat solid foods for the first 2 years of her life. Really, the stress of feeding her shortened our collective lives by many years.

3. This child didn't want to leave the house, like ever! I had to literally throw her out in the evenings to ensure that she gets some fresh air, if not exercise in the park. 

4. Pari quit Kathak despite progressing really well in the first 3 years. 2 reasons - firstly, her aversion to any kind of physical activity, and secondly, she found it very difficult to memorize and write long complicated sentences in Hindi in the dance theory exam. We didn't even collect the certificate for the grade 2 exam that she had appeared for, because Pari so strongly refused to pursue it further. 

I have run out of the things and still have the thumb left. Thumbs-up for Pari.. Happy 16!

16!

Pari turns 16 tomorrow. To me, it feels like I was 16, not so long ago. The days are so fresh and vivid in my memory. Like Pari, I was in the 11th grade, struggling with the rapidly mounting pressure of advanced-level Physics, Chemistry and Maths after scoring very well  in 10th grade with nominal effort. Nobody and nothing had prepared me for this sudden acceleration in academic rigor and I remember having bouts of self-doubt. Pari is in the same boat and goes through similar emotions on a regular basis, and I try to support her as best as I can. It actually helps to remember my 16 year old self because I can relate to her challenges and insecurities so well.

It is a lack-luster birthday eve. My enthusiastic child, who starts planning for every birthday 6 months in advance, is quietly studying for her school exams that begin tomorrow. We had to move the birthday party to the following week to accommodate the exams. To justify the deferred celebrations, I pulled out the pre-natal hospital records and showed to Pari that the due date predicted by the gynac was 22nd Jan. The doctors had planned a leave from 10th Jan, not wanting to take a chance with my 'precious pregnancy'(that is medical term!), they extracted her on 9th Jan. Her actual birthday is 22nd Jan and a celebration any day before that is early instead of delayed. Always a logical person, Pari appears to be quite satisfied with the explanation and her initial disappointment has diminished. Happy birthday my lovely child, I am so blessed to have you.

Food nostalgia

A couple of days ago, DH and I were discussing our life and home back in Bangalore. No discussion of our lives can run over 90 seconds without gravitating towards food. We reminisced about our oft-visited restaurants in Bangalore: Samarkand, Ebony, Casa Picola, Wanleys, Treat, 3-quarters Chinese, Chung wah, Memories of China, Grameen, Bombay Post, Little Italy.. some of whom have sadly shut shop since. 

There were several establishments near our house in Indiranagar from where we would regularly order-in. Since we never visited those places, it was hard to recall the names after so many years. One of them was a Bengali restaurant and irrespective of our main course, we always ordered Bhetki Paturi for appetizers. How outrageous that we haven't had this luscious preparation since moving out of Bangalore in 2011! I decided to make Bhetki Paturi as my first dish for 2023. Ordered Bhetki fillets, watched recipes on Youtube and plucked banana leaves from our society park. The husband and I spent the better part of an hour, carefully wrapping a dozen marinated fish chunks with banana leaves, and securing each with a piece of string before placing them in the steamer. As we proudly set the fish before Pari, she looked at the platter very curiously and suspiciously - 'Mumma, shall I eat the banana leaf before the fish or alongside?' That is when we realised that the poor kid doesn't remember eating Bhetki Paturi at all! What looks like yesterday to us is so far back in the past for her that it is as good as never. I lovingly unwrapped the paturi, carved a small piece of bhetki and offered to her. The ensuing grunts of approval and satisfaction told me that she is unlikely to forget the experience any time soon.

Udaipur - the city of lakes..

 ..and of amazing humans. We toured Udaipur and some neighbouring cities during the Diwali break. It was a 10 glorious days of mountains and lakes set in ochre land, of  palaces and forts steeped in history, of ancient temples and modern museums, of saffron sun-rises and vermillion sun-sets. There was never a dull moment as we spent all our waking hours taking in the sights, shopping for local crafts, enjoying cultural shows and savouring local and foreign cuisines. Yes, as always, for us it was gluttony before all else. 

There is so much that the three of us can talk about Udaipur- it was one of the rare vacations which each one of us termed as the most fulfilling experiences since COVID locked us up. I want to talk about the people of Udaipur. The city is known for its exceptional hospitality and that can be credited, in no small measure, for the huge inflow of foreign tourists. Every person with whom we interacted, left us feeling warm and welcome. That said, we still had a couple of unique experiences which warrant a mention. 

1. On day 1, we visited the City Palace. I had managed to get a nagging headache on my way from the airport, nothing new there. The palace was less than 1 km from our hotel. We bought tickets at the counter at about 1.30 pm, spent the afternoon marveling at the loveliness that is the palace and the sublime views of the city and lake from its various vantage points. My head started bothering me quite a bit by 5.00 pm and we promptly made it back to our lodgings for refreshments and a nap. Later that evening, we went for a cultural program close by- so enjoyable that it was the highlight of our Udaipur trip and I am grateful that we could catch the show. On the way to dinner, DH discovered that he was missing money. And it is then that we realised, 8 hours too late, that we had forgotten to collect the change at the City Palace ticket counter. It was all but a lost cause but we were about 200 meters away from the palace and I suggested that we try to get our money back. When we went back to the ticket counter, the staff had already left for the day. I explained my concern to the only person who was still at the desk. He took a few minutes to understand our concern and made a call to the person who had sold us the tickets, and put me on the line. I tried to recount our brief interaction during the afternoon in an effort to refresh the ticket-seller's memory of us. This man, not just managed to recall us but also confirmed that we had paid in excess, and requested the person at the desk to make a refund, while the husband and I gaped in amazement! I can't think of another place where this could have happened.

2. After receiving our refund from the City palace, we started looking for a suitable place for dinner. This being the first dinner in Udaipur, the husband was really keen on a traditional dal-bati-choorma thali. We spotted a few policemen patrolling outside Jagdish temple and I decided to check with them on the local restaurants. One gentleman policeman, Anil Kumar suggested Krishna dal-bati, presumably the most authentic restaurant which was about 5 km from our location. He even got an auto-rickshaw to ferry us to the place. We thanked him and his team profusely, boarded the auto and set off to Krishna. When we reached the restaurant, guess who we found at the venue! Anil ji had followed us to the restaurant to ensure that we reach the right place. He even confirmed the fare charged to us with the auto driver, lest we got overcharged. Over the next few days, while passing by  the palace or the temple, we met Anil ji a couple of more times, and he continued to guide us on our local excursions. 

Because we need a post everyday..

 ..even when I have no ideas or will to write, I will dig up a really old draft and make do with it. I had written this prior to living the last 1/3rd duration of my life. It is a complete post which never got posted for reasons I can't remember - perhaps I just felt too self-conscious to post it. No such hang-ups now. I take it as an opportunity to look back at my much younger self and smile!

3.2.2009

Life just keeps getting stranger.. wonder when I would know it all. My best laid plans go awry in such disappointing ways, and completely unexpected things turn so joyous. Last night was such a time, the latter one that is. It was our anniversary, and disheartened by the way the first two went off, I had no plans at all for this one. The day started early, unintentionally because we slept after midnight. I went to bed around 11.30pm and was trying to put the baby to sleep when the husband pulled out this little bag from the cupboard. It is his first gift to me since our wedding. I don't count the baby as a gift from him since she is shared by us and the rest of the family, and wasn't intentional to begin with. Well, I want a pair of platinum earrings much much more, but can do with a solitaire this time.

14 years later, that diamond pendant remains the only expensive, befitting-a-spouse gift that I have received from the husband. I certainly didn't imagine this at the time of writing the original post. I recall that at some point in our marriage, we just realized that exchanging gifts is an overhead which involves too much effort without commensurate returns in terms of satisfaction or happiness. We simply decided to discontinue the practice. We buy whatever we like, whenever we like for ourselves, without waiting for occasions or for each other. In summary, we have decommercialized our life events and it has served us well. 

The baby refusing to sleep that night, still refuses to sleep at a decent hour. However, we are not bothered by that anymore. She has an assortment of personal devices for company. And we no longer share a bedroom, bed or bedtime!

My fascination with platinum has declined in tandem with the decline in its price against gold. It is no longer perceived as the most expensive, exclusive, rare metal available for jewellery, and I no longer desire more of it. For the record, I have already passed on my platinum chain and regular-wear diamond pendants to Pari that she wears with pride.  

I have more diamonds and a bigger solitaire now, but none of it has been purchased by me. This is something that hasn't changed since. I continue to believe that I possess enough jewellery and only greed, not need can justify buying anymore. I still don't buy any jewellery except as gifts for others.  

Suggestions sought..

..on new and exciting blogs. When I started this blog back in 2007, there were so many blogs that I used to follow. Somehow, most of them are inactive/closed now. Many of them were mommy blogs. The children of said mothers have grown up, and the mothers have gotten so busy raising the kids and living it up with them, that they perhaps have no time left to chronicle the journey. Also, I feel that babies provide the most fodder for blogs. As our children transition into teens/pre-teens, the content and the urge to share it just reduces. I am one mother who has resolutely held her ground and continues to write about the child - like I always say, more for my own remembrance sake than for really sharing.

We digress, but I wonder what happened to the other set of bloggers - folks who wrote about everything under the sun. Apparently, they too have lost interest in writing. Also, times are changing fast, and I realise that blogging is not the 'in' thing anymore. Paucity of time and more importantly, patience has led to the rise of twitter and FB over blogs. Again, I wonder about the paucity of time. With greater longevity, and greater-than-ever time-saving techniques(air-travel, domestic appliances, emails, cellphones, e-commerce and another zillion!) at our disposal, shouldn't we have more time than before? As it turns out, many of these have served to fill in more time than they have helped save. Talking of changing times, I was casually going through some really old emails from the year 2002-2003 and was amused to see the number of email forwards that we used to share. Of course, that was way before FB & whatsapp happened. And we did have orkut but no smartphones. Gosh.. I feel like a dinosaur!

We digress again, but the purpose of this post is to lament on my dwindling reading list, and request the kind people out there, who still visit this page, to suggest some worthwhile blogs to fill in my hours at work. I am open to all kinds, but the funnier, the better! Gracias :)

Joka Diary : 11

It is late, very very late for this post. I am writing it only because I am a woman true to her word, and one who keeps her promises. Plenty of water has flown under bridges across the world, since we last met. I somehow scraped through the last term, left for Alld. on 15th, the day the exams got over-- missing the farewell party, spent a glorious fortnight eating, sleeping and eating again, returned to Joka on 30th for the convocation rehearsal and finally convocated on April 2nd, in the august presence of my mom,daughter, husband and his grandparents. It was rather heartening -- 4 generations gathered to witness my 5 secs claim to glory. We left for Delhi the following day after some frantic last minute packing and couriering of stuff. Delhi was fun, with Pari not being around I could cuddle, kiss and play with our very amiable Chia to my heart's content. All good things come to an end, and so did my days of being totally jobless when I landed in Mumbai on 8th to join my new workplace. Yes.. all my Mumbai readers, friends and fans-- please do a chicken dance to celebrate my arrival! I am sure you are all elated and finding it hard to believe your good fortune. Also, if any of you could host us for a week or two, till we find an affordable, decent accomodation, please do not hesitate in approaching us. In case you haven't guessed till now-- WE ARE DESPERATE!!
This post is slated to be my last post under the title, and so, now on we shall talk about and only about my experience in Joka. It has been an enriching and meaningful year for me. I have enjoyed every single day that I have spent there. My only regret is that it passed just too soon. I enjoyed my stay there, in our lush green, pollution-free campus, and my bicycle rides to the college. I enjoyed the food in Bapi Da's mess except for when they made the rajma-parantha-baigan combo. I enjoyed the classes, the animated discussions, lectures, presentations and even the exams. I enjoyed our late evening excursions to Behala, Thakurpukur and Gennex. Probably because I was so out-of-touch with the real world for the last 5 years or so, I found tremendous value in the course, and I think I got my money's worth better than the others, only because I was so clueless and ignorant to begin with! The rest of the class was already quite knowledgable and well-read, and I think I am extremely privileged to have shared a classroom with them. Yes, most of all, I enjoyed the terrific classmates that I had, such bright and sharp people. Initially I did feel uncomfortable as the only person who knew nothing of the world around, but slowly we accepted each other-- I accepted their brilliance, and they, my lack of it. Overall, it was a great group and I think I learnt even more from my peers than my profs. So long Joka, I am going to miss you!

Pictures : the porcelain baby

While going through our old pictures, I came across these..




I can't remember having seen them like ever, they were just buried somewhere in our hard disk. And to find them made me very pleased and very sad at the same time. Pari is exactly a month over 1 year in these. What would I not give to get back my porcelain baby.. Time, thou art a fickle mistress!

Because, at times..

..I miss Him too!



Need we say more? :P

The picture is part of my 'Countdown to The Wedding' collection. We took one picture a day, every day of the month preceding our wedding. Wipe off that smirk, the rest of them are pretty mundane -- of us sitting casually, watching TV, looking for an apartment in the Times classified, having dinner or just laughing together. Yes, I am a hopeless romantic like that. The pictures were taken by my lovely flatmates-- T & A. Both of them were overly thrilled about our wedding, perhaps even more than us. They took the job of taking the daily pic really seriously. So much that even if we forgot, they wouldn't let Him leave for his place till the pic for the day was taken. And the girls suggested us different poses to bring variety in the pictures-- this smooch being one of them :D Thanks gals, you made it really special for us!

Good bye Bangalore!

Its been around 2 days since I left Bangalore, and I am already missing it like hell. The thought that I might not go back there ever is killing me, and I am probably as miserable as I was when I left Allahabad for good. Bangalore was the only other home known to me. For all I know, I would have missed it even if I were shifting to Allahabad, the stuff that my dreams are spun of. As of now, I am going to a strange city among strange people to do something I have absolutely no clue about.. big consolation indeed! And for this noble cause, I have given up my home of 5 yrs, my husband of 5 yrs & best-friend of another 2 yrs, my daughter and lifeline of 4 yrs, all friends made over the last 8 yrs and my workplace of over 3 yrs. Most of it has obvious impact, except for the workplace which is why I need to elaborate on it. I loved my workplace, and it loved me right back. I did not make great career strides here, probably the most relaxed phase of my career till now, but it did allow me to balance my personal life and work without guilt. My daughter grew for an infant to a confident little girl during this time, and I cannot be any less grateful for that. Also, I met some amazing people here and forged bonds for life. To top it all, I was due for a considerable hike and a promotion. Tell me, which woman in her right mind would give up such a job? I did.

Time for thoughts on Bangalore. I love the city, the people and the culture. Unlike most people from north, who find everything wrong with the southern part, and like-minded southerners who look down on north, I really like Bangalore. And I know the city better than Allahabad, what with changing 5 houses and 5 companies. Also, I was a homing pigeon in Alld, content sitting at home by my window, reading and dreaming, secure in the warmth of my loving family. Bangalore was where I grew up from a naive young girl to an independent woman. It is here that I fell in love, got married, had a child and graduated from being a daughter to a mother. It is here that I learnt self-reliance away from my protective parents, and learnt to take care of myself, well almost. Taking care of myself meant marrying the man who took care of me, and then leaving it all to him.

Leaving a city that means so much to you is never easy, much less for a person who tends to get attached to stuff like me. I feel uprooted, and bruised. I feel disorientated and lonely. I want to cry my heart out, bawl my head off. It might be another week before I get to do that. For now, I just hope we win the world cup today. It might serve as a temporary distraction and save me at least some disappointment.

5 years today..

धन से न दुनिया से

घर से न द्वार से

साँसों की डोर बंधी है

प्रीतम के प्यार से

दुनिया छूटे पर न टूटे

ये कैसा बंधन है..


It is five years today since we entered the aforementioned 'Bandhan'! The occasion demands a mushy post, but I'll rather spare the torture. I would just stick to doing what I do the best- 'plagiarize' and put it elegantly-- 'It was the best of times, it was the worst of times, it was the age of wisdom, it was the age of foolishness, it was the epoch of belief, it was the epoch of credulity...'. Now that I have 2 writers turning in their graves already, let me conclude the post with some original stuff.

I have no clue as to why I like this particular picture so much, we both are looking quite awkward in it. Still, the fondness is probably because we are genuinely smiling in this one, unlike the zillion other pics where we had to fake as many smiles for the pushy photographers.

By The Water Cooler

This is part of an old post, recycled to make an entry to the contest running on the incredibly witty Parul's blog. Everyone I read is competing and so am I :D

Last night, we met some of the husband's batch mates from college. One of them, AS, happens to be our ex-colleague as well. I have always found this particular person very inspiring. He has done some very unconventional things which require much more courage than I can ever hope for, but that is yet another story. Over the dinner, we recalled this little incident from the days of yore which I would like to share here. This goes back to 2005 when I was committed but not married. We were in the same team, and sat around 50 feet apart. On the messenger-

Me: I am getting engaged.
AS: Congratulations! So many people getting married these days...
Me: Is it?
AS: Oh yes. A friend got engaged just last week.
Me: Do I know him?
AS: You might. He is employed here. Would you know AJ in the XYZ team?
Me: ??
AS: Wait, let me send you the engagement pic. They make a nice pair.
Me: *Scampering off to his place despite a minor heart attack*

I reach his desk in a split second, he has the picture already open by then. It has me and the then-fiance-now-husband sitting in Pizza Hut. He grins sheepishly, too embarrassed to even apologize.

Open ended questions-
1. The entire office knew about us, why was he so blissfully unaware?
2. Even if he couldn't recognize me in the picture(though there is really no reason for it), does he expect a North Indian girl to get engaged in a Pizza joint, dressed in jeans and an almost off-shoulder red top?
3. What qualified him to comment on the pair, calling it 'nice', when he did not even look at the girl properly?
4. Why did he offer to share a picture with me in which he had, in all probability, no genuine interest? Oh I know the answer to the last one.. he was sharing the picture to help me recall who 'AJ' was!

These men can be really weird.. stay warned!!

Pappu pass ho gaya!

Yes.. our little Pari has moved to the next grade, or so I think. We recieved the Progress Report today and I must admit it made us incredibly proud though there was no mention of any promotion. What it did say was that the child has mastered skills like pouring, rolling, napkin folding, dusting, sweeping, mopping(which I incidently read as 'moping' and agreed almost immediately) and chopping. Er.. are we sending her to the right place?? Anyways, there was also a mention of skills that needed more practice viz. lacing, button holes and tying belts. Lacing was kind of expected, since I couldn't tie my shoe laces till almost the 4th standard. I don't remember much trouble with buttoning, except that I often messed up the order missing a couple of holes in the process. And tying belts, how can I forget that.. my mom used to put elastic waist bands in all my pajamas because I could never tie those strings. So we can safely assume that the genes did trickle down.. and I am grateful for that. Because for all we know, she might just turn up pretty, bright and virtuous courtesy these very genes :) And not just that, all her following progress reports will be as delightful if not more :D

All in all, it was a good report and the Principal had only good things to say about Pari. I strongly feel she said the same nice sounding stuff to at least 95% of the parents and tried hard to explain the same to the indulgent father. The father, he needs a special mention here. We were required to reach the school at 9 am, and it is 200 meters from our house, ignore that we always take the car. Guess who was up at 7 am unlike on office days, took an elaborate bath, shampooed, shaved, pruned and emptied the D&G spray on self after dressing in his Sunday best on a Saturday... And who prayed an extra 10 minutes to ensure that the very important day went off well. Yes.. the father! He absorbed every word that the Principal uttered and broadcasted her feedback on Pari verbatim to all relatives, grand parents, aunts & uncles over the telephone. The old man has been sporting a very silly grin the entire day, and when I last checked on him, he was checking out trampolines on ebay. Offcourse, you would agree that daughter dearest deserves a special gift for her exceptional performance in the playgroup. He is the same man who has gifted me 3 Calvin n Hobbes paperbacks for the 3 birthdays I have had post wedding. How I wish that he had adopted me instead of marrying me!

Summer Camps

Pari's 'first' summer vacations are fast approaching, and we are excited. As a rule of thumb, we feel obliged to feel excited at all things on her behalf, since she is too young to comprehend and feel the thrill, be it the annual day, or distribution of progress reports. It is us who go with throbbing hearts and shaky nerves while Pari goes in with the calm demeanour of one going around his usual business. This reminds that I have not provided any updates on Pari since long, and there has been so much.. her third B'day, annual day, Yercaud trip. All these are things I want to write about and preserve for posterity.

Coming back to summer vacations, I did not really view it as something significant, so it shocked me to see parents regard and gear up for vacations as if it were an impending calamity. We, as a matter of fact had not thought of it at all. After all, last year this time Pari stayed at home all day long with the maid - eating, sleeping, playing and watching TV as is appropriate for a toddler. And honestly, even as teenagers, that is how we spent all our summer/winter/dussera/Christmas vacations. The TV and the walls around would change periodically, while we visited our Nani in Delhi for the vacations. But apart from that, there was nothing else that we did. Our days were full of fun just doing nothing and learning zilch. Even the holiday homework was picked up only the week before the school reopening, so busy were we enjoying the holidays. And here, schools have not even pulled their shutters down, and we are flooded with summer camps. They are all over the place - colorful banners, posters, brochures, print advertisements, even radio ads all announcing different summer camps, promising to keep our children engaged in the most productive manner. And parents are running like headless chickens to procure an entry for their chicks. Now I know why I did not do well in life.. my parents never sent me to a summer camp. But what the hell happened to visits to grandparents? I had just one set of grandparents to visit since we stayed permanently with the others. Pari lives in a nuclear family and has both the options wide open. Apart from that, she has several add-on sets of grandparents, like my aunts who are willing to trade their left eye and right arm to host her for the vacations. The family is, to summarize, an acute case of 'Parimania'. I feel so tempted to bundle her off to camp at one of these places but for the husband. My old man cannot do without Pari. He cannot sleep till Pari plants some tight kicks in the pit of his stomach, gets his daily workout by running after her every evening with the dinner and finds the task of picking Pari from school in the hot summer afternoons 'highly gratifying'. Courtesy Darling Daddy, Pari might just end up in a 'Summer Camp'!

Adieu!

My Nani passed away last weekend. Yes, while the world was busy ushering in the new year, my nani, lonely and sick, quietly left for the next world. I was offcourse part of the world, out on dinner with husband and daughter. We were probably enjoying our three course euro meal when she was calling out to the neighbours for her last sip of water. I had not even cared to call her up to wish the new year. She anyways could not hear well enough to comprehend much of what I would have talked on phone.

Nani was a tough nut. My mother,an only child moved to a different state to be a part of my Dad's family when they got married. And then, Nanaji passed away barely an year after his retirement. That was 15 yrs back. Since then, Nani had been on her own, living all alone in Nanaji's ancestral house in Old Delhi, now better known as Delhi-6. As the years passed, her health began to fail. Numerous efforts were made by us to bring her to Allahabad to stay with us, but she never stayed beyond a week. Her attachment to her place, her home was probably greater than to us. And we could do nothing other than helplessly watch the gutsy woman from Punjab getting reduced to a bunch of bones. Nani was immensely proud of her punjabi roots. She dressed fashionably, wore sleeveless blouses and chiffon sarees at a time when they were both unheard of in Allahabad, which is why my mom never had any. Her punjabi taste was most prominent in the way she tied her hair with a false braid, which had colorful hoops in the end. As a child, I sometimes tied it to my hair to make it look longer. And to top it, Nani had an impressive collection of cosmetics- lipsticks, vanishing creams, compacts, stuff that looks basic today but it really fascinated me then, especially since my mom never used any of it. Not just that, Nani was so very house-proud. And she had reason to be.. her house was always so neat and impeccably clean. When we visited her during summer vacations, she had a tough time keeping the house together. She would often compare us to our Mom, telling us how quiet and well-behaved mom was as a child, and how hard it is to imagine that she could have such naughty kids as us.

Now that Nani is gone, I have this terrible urge to travel back in time and spend some more time with her. It is queer how we realise the value in things the moment they go beyond our reach. Her voice, which was only a phone call away all these years, her cute wrinkled face which required me to just fly for 2.5 hours for it to light up with joy is now lost forever. All I have are memories, and one of my fondest is undoubtedly of her efforts to teach me cooking. No, I never learnt, but she did succeed in getting me make rotis. The perfectionist in her drove me nuts in the pursuit of making the roundest, softest roti, but it left me with a skill I would use and take pride in every single day for the rest of my life. Talk about gifts, eh? I wish I had the sense to learn more from her, she was such a wonderful cook, one who could even make the normal dal so tasty that we would be left asking for more. I never told her this, but I so want to, as so many other things. But it is too late now.. I will still say the only thing that makes sense anymore.. R.I.P.

I wish to be..

..fifteen again! I have been in a strange mood for a couple of weeks now, feeling like writing a lot of nonsensical, not-so-pleasant, unhappy-with-life stuff. At such times, I really regret having shared my blog with people I know. I mean I had managed to keep it under covers for over an year, and then someday, suddenly I had this feeling of well-being, the feeling that everything has finally fallen into place and I would not need to sulk in a dark corner ever.. read, put up an anonymous post, that my life is in a shape good enough to be shared with the world. Also, I was inspired by the way people use their blogs to log and share their experiences, their pictures and their babies' antics. Yes.. that reminds me, it was when I started writing about Pari and posting her pictures that I shared the blog. And now, I know that the family follows. My little cousins do, even though they never comment. And I cannot write things that could potentially scandalize them.

The last paragraph was a digression, if you can call it that, considering that my whole intention is to ramble. Today is one of those days, when I feel lonelier than Eve and miss home immensely. I wish to be 15 years old again, and sit by the window in what used to be my room, overlooking the garden, some random book in my lap, our National-Panasonic radio playing old Hindi cinema music in the background. I wish it would be an afternoon in July, the surroundings all green because of the shower in the morning, the sky still overcast, and the wind flipping over the pages of my book while I look out from the window. I wish to go back to the days when I had no job, no financial concerns, no husband, no baby, no excess baggage, and no worldly wisdom.. just my parents and my grandparents, people who love me unconditionally for what I am. And yes, my little sis who would be 2 years old and worships the ground that I walk. She would be my daughter's age, but mean much more to me than her. My baby sister was so unlike Pari. She was much more innocent, had large eyes and threw no tantrums that I can remember of. Being the third child with siblings 10 years your senior, makes you different. But it surely doesn't make you any lesser. Pari would never know what having an elder sister means.. Vatu always looked up to me, and with far more reverence than I can ever expect out of Pari. Here here.. I always get carried away when I talk of Vatu. However, wishes are not horses yet, so I guess I would wait some more to fly.. and sleep through the night with an aching heart..