Essays - Standard 4th

I am posting a couple of essays written by Pari in the school --because they are really imaginative, so much that they are almost hilarious and because I want to preserve them for eternity!

The child certainly needs some help with the languages- predictably more in Hindi than in English. At the same time, it is the Hindi essay on 'my dear mother' which is truly remarkable. To begin with, I do listen to everything she says, and encourage her to share things with me, but I don't necessarily give in to all her asks. She has a field day every time I travel for work. And I travel way too much to get her books or toys everytime. I do get her stuff as and when I find something nice and the time to buy it, but not always, not even often. And going to work at 6 am? On most days I wake up only after 8 am. Also, offices don't start that early unless you're the maintenance staff. Again, I don't help her in studies regularly, and when I do, she doesn't appreciate it one bit. Mostly, she resents it.. which I think is normal for a child who has limited interest and inclination for any kind of structured education.

Coming to the English essay, a training in maintaining a correct tense is much required. What really cracked us up is the 'watch the news' phrase. Really, which 8 year old turns on the TV on a Sunday, or any day to watch news?? Perhaps, she thought mentioning Doraemon will take away the formal air  of the essay. And then, 'my lawn'! We live in an 880 sqft carpet two-bedroom apartment on the 9th Floor in Mumbai.. so again the only plants any of us can water are the ones in the common gardens in the building complex. But again.. my little Pari, I give it to your imagination child!

A grand comeback.. or so we pretend!

I have been contemplating a grand comeback post for about 16 months now, and it never gets past the planning stage. Mostly, when I log in, my overflowing reading list attracts me like a fly to fire, and my intention to write sadly succumbs to the temptation every single time. I am bursting with stuff to share though. Life has been rough to us at times, but lets just focus on the good stuff today. And the good stuff is always always related to Pari. Our little girl is such a blessing, we always have something to smile about. As you may have guessed, Pari is full 2 yrs older since we last met, but the fun only grows. So back to Pari'isms.

About an year ago, cousin E was visiting us. Pari was using the toilet while E sat outside the door waiting for her to finish. Finally, she ran out of patience and knocked at the door.
E: Pari, how long will you take?
P: I don't know. I am not a palmist, so I cannot predict the future.
Future? Really??

Pari has a huge interest in my official matters, and it doesn't help that I work from home(mostly at night after working in the office the entire day.. gah!). She keenly listens into my phone calls, reads my official emails and also goes through the power point decks. And so, her knowledge about my organisation is exceptional. And it is obvious in our conversations. For instance, our company M has acquired another company C, and I am working on the integration of the entities. We are out on some errand, and she spots an office belonging to C.

P: Mumma, look-- you office!
Moi: No, this isn't my office. This is C. I work for M, and you've seen my office, right?
P: Well.. it is the same thing now.. merger to complete ho gaya hai na!
Notice, how she knows that the transaction takes time to complete!

As part of the restructuring, our region is now reporting to Asia Pac team, which in turn reports to the HQ. Earlier, we used to report directly to the HQ. So effectively, my boss's boss has become my boss's boss's boss or his super boss. Not sure if you understand that, but really, I want to post this today and can't spend more time explaining! I am making org charts and Pari notices this change. She knows the hierarchy really well, and I must give her credit for that.

P: Mumma, OI(super boss) is not your boss's boss anymore?
M: Yeah, the structure has changed. He reports into a new boss, and that person in turn reports into OI.
P: Oh, I get it. OI has got promoted!
OI is already the global CEO.. but full marks for positivism, Pari! The rest of the world thinks my boss has got demoted.

OK.. there are so many more related to my workplace, but I will relate just two more. I am making some status report and marking items as red, yellow and green.

P: Mumma, what do the different colors mean?
M: Well.. Status of the item.. Green: OK, Yellow.. Red.. blah blah..
P: OK, but how will the other people know what you mean? Shouldn't you include a table saying Green=OK, Yellow=delayed.. etc?
I justified saying that these are commonly used colors and people usually know them.. but proceeded to add a 'legend' to the slide all the same!

The final one.. my company has a tag line saying that we improve a life every 3 seconds. So the other day while I am working, Pari stands before me.. counts 1,2,3 and screams-- M has improved another life! And this continued till about 25 lives were improved and reported as such.

Pari.. I must admit that you improve our lives every moment!

A POEM AT THE LITTLE BUNNY-- PARI, JAN 26TH

I have a little bunny
She is as sweet as honey
She eats a carrot
because she's hungry as a parrot
I call my bunny Sooshi
while others call their bunny Nooshi
I like a cat
while others like a bat
I think I'm going to sing all day
but I think my song is finishing right away

Yes, it has very little to offer other than several pairs of rhyming words, but it is the music in our lives.. are all momma's mad by design?

ps. As with all creative writing, this poem too an illustration-- a very cute bunny right next to it. We'll lose it in a couple of days, I wish I could archive it somehow. 

GREED DOESNT PAY, DATED: 2-11-12

One day, Fina fox saw Rafisa Rabbit dozing in the meadow. Wow! She'll be my next meal. Suddenly, Fina saw Kafisa Crow with Minna Mouse in her beak. I'll eat Minna first she thout(sic). She growled at Kafisa and a fritened(sic) Kafisa dropped Minna and flew away. Minna fel over sleeping Rafisa and woke her up. Rafisa and Minna ran into a burrow. Fina dug outside the burrow but contn catch them. I lost everything because of my greed.

Pari has written this story in her drawing book with illustrations. Though she has written it sitting before us all through, and so we know that it isn't copied, we obviously don't expect the plot to be an original.. and it isn't.. which is actually good, else I would've seriously fainted!  The good child is still baby enough to admit very candidly-- 'I've read this story in a magazine. But all the names are my own.' Not bad, I would say.. Fina, Rafisa, Kafisa -- boy.. it almost feels like sitting through a mushaira.

As you can guess, the poor child is bored beyond limits, courtesy the month long school holidays.. for Diwali.. what else! And this boredom has led to an unprecedented surge of creativity-- she makes greeting cards, several in number for each member of the extended family to cover every possible occasion-- birthdays, new yr, diwali, and such. We may need to rent a warehouse to store all these cards. And then the drawing book gets over, which means all the pages have been torn and folded into half to resemble greeting cards, with every corner filled with either art-work or loving messages, and not to forget-- her 'signature' which depends on the name she has chosen for the day.. the current favourite being 'Nisha/Missika'. Yes, Pari is very dissatisfied with her given name, and keeps renaming herself. The way she chooses her names is pretty interesting and warrants a separate post in itself. Alright.. where were we? Yes, when the drawing book gets over, she writes stories. This one was written almost a month back, and as I mentioned-- plagiarised. However, she has written some original stories since, very evident from the 'maturity' of the plot and the completely unrelated moral of the said story. Mind you-- all stories always have morals at the end. We usually lose most stories, because she writes them on the slate, and clears it off to make way for the new story. At times, she writes on some loose sheets, which get lost. I currently have just 2 saved on me, and am very determined to put down both of them here. Well.. losing them is not a great loss to humanity, but to my motherhood, it is.

Pari'ism 9/11/2012

In the one year that she has spent away from us, Pari has developed some really good communication skills-- too good for her age if you ask me. I mean --I left a baby, and received a teenager -- what happened to the wonder years? Actually, it is not all that bad, and I should be grateful for my parents, my grandmom and my two young sisters for nurturing her so well, that she picked up significantly from each of them. She uses phrases that nobody but my grandmother uses, her vocabulary has grown manifold thanks to my mom, and my sisters-- well, the engineering college lingo is their contribution to her vocab. And let us not even get started on my Dad  -- she is rhyming words, and can come up with really mean limericks, sigh! Alright, so this post is devoted to Pari's current way of talking -- sentences/statements perfectly fine for an adult, but which sound overly preposterous when pouring out of a small pink mouth.. which has just shed its first baby tooth.

1. Pari is irritated with the maid -- the lady is actually quite dull and cannot understand most things that Pari tries to tell her. So I attempt to mediate and reason out with her.

Me -- Pari, Auntie doesn't understand in one go. You need to say it slowly and repeat it for her to understand.
Pari -- Mumma, I am TIRED of explaining things to her.

Tired?? Already?? The maid has been here for less than 3 weeks!

2. We go for a PTM to her school, where the staff hands out a feedback form to me. Since the other parents show no inclination of letting go of the teacher anytime soon, and I really have no big concerns.. I just fill in whatever little I have in the form. Pari asks for it, and I am very sure she doesn't read much of it, since she returns it to Papa soon, and whispers in his ear--
'Papa, Mumma has written all rubbish..'

The husband, being the husband, doesn't chide the child for her insolence.. Just continues to smile ear-to-ear. I swear, if I ever go to a PTM again..

3. Well, to be fair to her, not all of her talk is negative, but honestly, I can't remember the good ones now. A recent was the usage of 'rather' -- I ask her to show me her broken tooth and she says--
'Don't look at it Mumma, it is rather scary..'
Also, she said something like -- 'I would rather go to sleep than do this'.

Well.. I am 'rather' impressed, haha.  BTW, that is also one word I  have heard her using recently, that being 'impressed' :D

And then there are phrases that really crack me up.. like when I ask her something.. she pauses, pretends to think and says.. "Well... I don't think I know this.." This leaves me frothing --"Why do you have to think, you either know it or you don't.. bah..". Tell me, since when have 5  yo's started thinking, and using 'Well..' with a pause, in a grandmotherly fashion??

Pari'ism 13-08-2012

The work-week has just started, and I have tons of things to do. So this is going to be a really quick one. Before we start on Pari, I have a strong urge to share this with you -- After 4 months in the city, I have finally managed to locate a VLCC parlour in Mumbai, and also made time to visit it for a quick facial. The sense of achievement & accomplishment is overwhelming, and I am completely OTT. My mom says that I look the same as before- only greasier, after the facial. It really doesn't ruffle me. I am a girl who believes in trying irrespective of how bleak things look.. and then, I look at parlour visits as a strategic thing, with little immediate gratification -- just an hour of complete inactivity/relaxation perhaps. I hope to reap the benefits in my old age, when my comtemporaries have 250 wrinkles, I would hopefully have just 245..

Coming to Pari, she is reading an animal encyclopedia these days, and is totally fascinated with monkeys, fishes and birds. Just yesterday, she draped a plain 'white' sheet on her shoulders, stretched her arms and flapped them to become a bird. She declared that she is a peacock, and the following conversation ensued--

P. -- Nani, look at me.. how do I look?
Nani -- Oh yes, you look like a very colorful?? peacock.
P. -- And look --what are these..
N. -- (can't see anything..) I am trying to see..
P. -- I have laid 4 eggs.
N. -- Hmm.. okie.
P. -- It is a very important time, my eggs are hatching.. I have to go..
N. -- Hmm..

Pari returns after a couple of minutes..

P. -- Nani, look -- I have 4 beautiful peahens -- all girls.
N. -- (not sure what to say..) yes, they are nice..

I somehow couldn't resist the temptation anymore.. and jumped into the conversation--

Me -- Pari, Can I have 2 of your eggs?
P -- Why do you want them
M -- To make omelette for Papa.
P -- (Aghast..) Nooooooo.. they are my babies. You can't break my eggs (forgetting that they have already hatched.)
M --Alright,  I won't break them, perhaps I can just boil them for Papa..
P -- No.. how can you be so wicked Mumma..

She continued to play her with chicks/peahens whatever.. when I made the last ditch effort.

M -- Pari, can you give me your chicks?
P -- now why?
M -- I can make some curry for Papa..
P -- (Overcome with emotion, screaming) Nooooo.. you cannot eat my babies. You are a wicked mumma..

By then, my mom was already screaming at me for making Pari scream, and I just left it there.

Don't hate me please, I wouldn't eat them if they were real chicks. I am anyways a lamb person..

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!

Gender education for 4 year olds

I am a dinosaur, one who prefers to live in the good old world of denial. I zealously guard Pari against any kind of gender related education. It helps that almost all of our friends have baby-girls, and the only cousin that Pari really gets to spend time with, our little Chia is a also a girl. So usually it is a cakewalk for me. And at times when it is not, I transform into the wicked mumma, who deprives the child of the slightest opportunity to gain any worldly wisdom. For instance, Chia is a baby and exclusively breast-fed, so at her meal-times, I fiercely grab Pari by the neck and ensure her prompt removal from the scene, lest she gets scandalized. It is not that I am afraid of her asking me difficult questions, but I somehow feel that she is too young to be exposed to this stuff, and it might just confuse her. And she will eventually get to learn all of it, it is just delaying the imminent. I think it is easier to shield the less-observant kids though, I for one was a totally absent-minded child. I hardly ever noticed anything and tough as it might be to believe, learned about most adult stuff much later than my contemporaries, usually through experience. Any wonder we celebrated our first anniversary with the baby in our arms, ha! However, I always felt that Pari is far smarter than me, and would pick up things on her own.. till this incident happened.

The husband and me are both big-time foodies, and watch all shows related to food with great interest, with a bucket under our respective chins to collect the drool. I think we were watching 'Highway on my plate' on NDTV Good Times, and just watching the duo eat made us both terribly hungry. That it was 10.30 pm might have also had something to do with it. Anyways, both of us left the living room in search of food, while the TV was still on with the child planted firmly on the sofa. We returned after what appeared like a short while to find her enjoying the making of the Kingfisher calendar. Now, how do I know if she 'enjoyed' it? For one, she had lifted her pretty little arse from the sofa and had moved closer to the TV, close enough for her nose to blot the screen. Now, not very often, but sometimes, I pretend to be a cool mumma, and think it is perfectly fine and normal for a 4 yo to watch shows featuring full-grown, at times over-grown women dressed in clothes belonging to 4 yo's. I know I am exaggerating, their swimsuits typically require lesser cloth than we need to clad our 4 yo. In any case, out of sheer curiosity, I asked Pari- 'What are you watching baby?'. Pari retorted with a profound question, without of course turning away from the TV lest she missed out on one moment of pure fun - 'Mumma, are these girls or boys?'. Both me and the husband felt totally confused. Pari is usually able to tell boys from girls, and quite accurately too. Why isn't she able to distinguish here, where almost everything is on display? Shouldn't it be easier in this case? Have we failed at parenting? Such questions immediately came to haunt us.. till it finally dawned on me. The child identifies the gender of the person by his/her clothes. She was unable to use the thumb-rule here since these women weren't wearing any!

PS1. This was observed an year ago, when we were in Bangalore, had a house for ourselves, and lived as a family, not as disillusioned individuals. Pari has grown up since, though I am not sure if her sense of gender has improved.

PS2. I was chatting with the husband the other day, when this incident came back to me, and I asked him if we should begin some 'sex-education' for Pari. The poor man nearly fell off his chair, and could resume breathing only after I rephrased it to 'gender-education'!

I just have to write this..

..to make it bearable! My little Pari turns 5 today. Yes you heard it right - Pari is 5 years old now. I am mom to a 5 yo. Now, can you imagine that I am not with her for our big day? I feel miserable, have been feeling that way for almost a week now, and the miserableness doesn't appear to be wearing off at all. If anything, it continues to grow on me, hopefully it will peak today and start waning from the day after. For now, lets just wish my little girl a very happy 5th. The last year has been tough for her, spent away from parents. She does have the most wonderful set of grandparents and an awesome pair of Mausi's, but in my heart, I can always feel her craving for us as much as we crave for her. I hope this year brings us back together as a family. Now, this is what I have to say to my darling daughter. I have missed you my little baby, but I must say I am very very proud of the way you have conducted yourself. Despite being totally uprooted, you have spread so much laughter and joy in the family. You have adjusted so well to the new place, new way of life, new school and new family. And you have learned so much in the last 9 months, much more than I can even hope to touch upon during my MBA course. In fact, I don't think I really need to wait for you to grow up to read this post, you can probably read and understand some 70% of it already, and copy this in your notebook in under half-an-hour. This when you couldn't as much as hold a pencil this time last year. Now, I see you copying sentences from Mausi's Electronics textbook. Can't say how relieved and assured I feel, it is not just my spine that you have inherited! My heart swells with pride when I hear you using words like 'Lahuluhaan' and 'khoobsoorat'. And you have evolved into such a granny.. always worried about the rest of us. Be it Nani who you forced into a strict exercise regime within days of your arrival--'I don't want my Nani to be so fat!', or Mausi E, who won your sympathy as soon as she moved in with you. The fact that she is away from her parents, just the way you are, meant you could connect with her in no time. The 15 yrs between the two of you not withstanding! Your concern for people knows no limits, as you worry about whether 'Chachi is taking good care of Chia' or 'is Dadi taking care of herself'. When it comes to Mumma, you have different concerns, mostly whether Mumma is studying well, and if her teacher scolds Mumma. You always try to make life simple for us. For instance, on Chia's birthday, you very generously made the suggestion-'Mumma, get me my birthday gift too, baad me easy rahega'. Too bad we did not avail the offer! Though I did get you a gift for you birthday, it is still not easy being away from you on this day. Here is Mumma wishing you all the health, happiness and peace on your special day. With all her love.

The Annual Day - First vs Second

[Warning: Long post, non-parents and disinterested men - please excuse!]

Pari had her Annual Day last Saturday, and as is the norm in this house, the parents were over-excited and hyper-ventilating while the child was calm and contained like a seasoned zen-practitioner. Since her last annual day is also so fresh in memory, mostly due to repeated watchings of the recording, a comparison seems inevitable. I had not done a post on that one owing to severe disappointment and a major heartbreak, and this looks like an opportune time to reflect on that as well.

To begin with, last year was Pari's first year in the montessori, and there was no dress code for her. This was a real sticky situation to be in because it meant that we could dress her up just anyway we wished and hence triggered a mad rush for the best possible dress. My heart was set on dressing her in a white satin and net frock, similar to one she had as a baby. Yes, I am superficial like that. We spent 2 long evenings checking out almost every shop of repute that stocked children's apparel, but couldn't find anything even close to what we had in mind. Pari ended up wearing a dress that was already part of her wardrobe. This year, she is among the older lot and was instructed to wear black tights with a plain, bright-coloured t-shirt without any logo or design. This wasn't easy either. With a reasonable effort we could get tights in her size but the shirt was very very difficut to find, specially because her size is so small. To cut a very long story short, we went to almost 40 shops over 3 days and couldn't find an absolutely plain T for her. Finally settled down for a UCB collared T, with the logo in silver. Thankfully they make their logos small and so it wasn't very conspicous.

The following noteworthy conversation happened during the marathon shopping session-

On entering the mall
Pari: Mumma, the smell of french fries is coming.
Me: Hmm.. okie. I'll buy you some. (Get her FF.)

As we enter a huge store
Pari: Mumma, the smell of toys is coming.
Me: ???

I don't know what toys smell like, but Pari sure has a sharp nose. The other day, I gave her khichdi, she remarked - Mumma, this is yummy. It smells of so much ghee.

So much for the deviation.. Pari defined 'Pink Saree' as the dress code for mumma, and mumma complied with it very sincerely. Papa was free to wear anything he fancied, who looks at men anyways and even a child as young as Pari knows it. I woke up on the D day with a stiff body, probably because of the anxiety. I remember similar symptoms before the annual day last year too. Flashback begins - Pari would repeat what looked like the script of some children's play, sing multiple songs with some random dance, get into yoga positions and all such things. We were happy to believe that she is participating in a big way. However, on the annual day, all she did was recite some nursery rhymes. Immediately after the rhymes got over, the Principal said - 'Now all the babies come over here', and she very gracefully obliged by moving to a corner with some 10 other tiny tots. The rest of the 1 hr program was taken forward by the older children. Disappointment is a mild word to describe what we felt. And during the course of the program, we realised she had been mouthing lines from the play meant for older children. Flashback Over!

This time around, Pari was actually part of almost all the activities. She is a big child now and the school knows it. She was part of the initial prayers, Yoga demonstration, and danced to Anjaana-Anjaani song with rehearsed actions. In fact, after the program, a couple of moms actually came over to say that she dances well! I think it was really kind of them to observe that, I being a mean mean mom, had eyes only for Pari. Actually I was capturing her on reel and had to zoom in to figure her out well. She is still tiny compared to the other children, and easy to loose in a group performance. And then there was the Gruffalow play. She played a snake there, trying to prey on a mouse. It was hilarious in more ways than one. Since the mouse was the central creature with lots of lines to remember and blurt out, it was played by a child in UKG. All the children playing predators to the mouse, like the owl, snake and such were actually nursery kids, half the size of the mouse. And just before the play began, the Principal came over and instructed the children to just say their lines, and not the other child's. That was some comic relief.

We returned home a very happy and proud family. Husband immediately sat down to finalize the DVD, so that copies could be made and distributed to anxious grandparents, aunts and uncles of the child. He kept the handycam for finalization on the dining table and sternly warned Pari and me to keep off the table lest we shake the handycam, only to bump into it himself seconds later. The copying got interrupted and we had to restart it. Once it was done, we played it in the DVD player only to realise that the DVD wasn't working. I started screaming at the poor man for spoiling my child's annual day recording. You see, I had not enjoyed her performance live because I was so keen on preserving it for posterity. And he had spoiled it all by bumping in the table and shaking the handycam. In his defence, the husband suggested that probably the DVD player is not working. How I hoped this would be the case! However, it did not play on his laptop as well. The happy family turned into a warring family and lot of melodrama ensued. Luckily, my laptop could play it, and saved us from an imminent divorce.

PS. Whoever has shown the courage to go through this mammoth post, will be rewarded with the pics of the Annual day in the next post, hopefully!

Pari strikes again!

I have been struggling with this desperate urge to blog for quite some time now, but things have been slightly busy at my end and my love for procrastination is no secret either. Moreover, I make a conscious effort to keep my blog happy, as in I try not to write if I am depressed or suicidal or 'divorcal'(is there a word for the urge to divorce??). I have two teenage sisters who follow the blog, and that is enough reason for me to keep it clean and not write anything that could potentially put them off marriage/children/middle-age.. Besides, I might be hunting matches for them in a few years from now, and it is absolutely necessary that the family believes that I am good at finding a match!

So much for not writing, now we come to the reasons for writing at this odd hour. I am mature enough to know that my not-blogging is no great loss to the blogging community. However, to me it is.. especially because Pari is back and churning out gems by the hour, and with my memory, I forget most of them the following hour. And it is a bigger loss to the father who will miss it entirely. Yes, the spouse is travelling for work to Noida and being a man of principles, he doesn't call me, like ever, from office(work-ethics), transit(traffic-rules) or home(family-time, he is staying with the IL's). And so he has no inkling as to what goes on in the household. However, the presence of the child, and the continued absence of the only maid that I had (Yes, I have 'NO DOMESTIC HELP' for the last 1 month) ensures that I have no time to even find out if the man’s indifference can serve as valid ground for a divorce. And if you think life couldn't get more interesting, the LPG got over and we spent 4 full days without a stove. The child, she refuses to eat anything except French fries outside the house, and demands milk 3 times a day in addition to her usual dal-rice. I went crazy trying to cook dal in the microwave, and running around with milk bottles begging people to boil the milk. On the positive side, I think I can expect a call from Survivor any day now.

Now the nice part, Pari has been entirely unpredictable since her return from Allahabad. My mom has indulged her heavily, and it shows in her behaviour. She took instant dislike to my not-so-flexible management and said the meanest things I have ever heard her say. I was truly crest-fallen and seriously contemplated having a second child, as the fall back 'budhape ka sahara'. Once she learns to read, Pari might hate me for putting it all here, but I would still share the two most shocking instances.

1. I go to the neighbour's house on some errand, and return in around 1/2 an hour after some invigorating gossip. I come back and ring the bell. Wait.. and again ring the bell. Now, I can clearly hear some argument behind the closed door between Pari and Papa, and assume that probably Pari wants to open the door for me. She likes doing that, at least she liked it before she went to Allahabad. Finally the door is opened by the husband, and Pari is sulking in the corner.
Me: Why didn't you let her open the door? Now, she is upset.
Husband: No, she didn't want to open the door. She is upset because I let you in. She was stopping me from opening the door, saying -'Don't open the door. Let Mumma stay outside.'
Horror!!

2. We are having dinner when I suddenly get hiccups. Even before the husband could notice, Pari screams -'Don't give her water. Let her have hiccups.'
Tell me if that isn't mean, what is?

Anyways, the husband left for Noida soon after, and you should see how this girl turned over a new leaf. She waited for Papa to return for a couple of days, and even cried for him. However, once it became clear to her that Papa is not returning anytime soon, and Mumma is who she has to make do with, she switched on her best behaviour. I mean, I'll just quote her here, these are some of the things she actually said to me-

1. Mumma, I can never be sad with you. I love you, and I will buy a lot of things for you.
2. You are so sweet Mumma! I am your daughter and all my things belong to you.(Of course they do, I bought them with my own money!)
3. Why doesn't the maid come? She is a lazy woman. My mumma has to wash utensils. I will help you mumma when I grow big.(I ask her when will she be big, and she says - Wait mumma, I am growing slowly!)

And such cheesy stuff. She is kissing me at the rate of 5 per minute, and if I happen to move, the ground that I had been standing on is smothered with affection. Sending her to the school and daycare is a cakewalk. If I just record her conduct for a day and sell it as an educational DVD, I am sure parents will queue up for a copy, just to show their wards how nice 4 yr olds can be.

For me, I am just happy to have my baby back, and glad that we are bonding big time. Though I am sure, things will not be the same once the father is back. But for now, I am basking in the glory of motherhood, and Pari keeps me sufficiently entertained. I am taking her down for cycling almost every other day and we go for long walks, where she provides me with useful insights on the world. Like when we came across a puddle, she pointed it out to me, 'Look mumma, a well. Do you know what a well is? It is a big hole and it is filled with water.' And then, there was little rise in the footpath, where it covered the drain to which she said -'Can I cross this bridge?' Thankfully, the official definition of bridge was not offered. At times, when I help her write, she says, 'Mumma you have become my teacher. You are my mumma and also my teacher.' However, the one that I liked the best was when I drove her to a restaurant - 'You have become a driver, but I still love you Mumma..' Thank you my child, I am so honoured!

Something about moms..

Pari has been going to a daycare from her montessori for the last 3 months. The school maid drops her there at 12.45 and I usually pick her in the evening around 6 pm. The moment I reach, Pari gets super happy and excited and starts running around the hall in circles. The running is mostly accompanied by dancing and singing as well. It takes almost 10 minutes for her to tire out, which is when the maids there hold her fast, put on her shoes and hand her over to me with bag and baggage. I am probably the first mom to reach, and all the other children, most younger to Pari are still there waiting for their parents to come and collect them. The babies are too young for school yet, and so they spend the entire day in the daycare. Some of them just walk/crawl to me and expect me to take them along. And that is when I feel embarrassed by Pari's mindless celebrations and cocky announcements-'My mumma has come..'. Gratifying as it may be, to see the child celebrating my arrival so much, I secretly wish that she would quietly walk out without rubbing it on the other children. But Pari being herself, does exactly the same thing every day, and the novelty of mumma coming to pick her from creche doesn't look like wearing off any time soon. If anything, her ability to run in circles without getting giddy is only improving.

Last Monday, my mom called up in the evening. I was unwell since the weekend, so she enquired about my health and then made a sudden announcement. She had got tickets booked in 'Tatkal' and was boarding a train to Bangalore on Wednesday, and that she would be here by Friday. I felt my heart do a quick running in circles, dancing and singing, the Pari way. It is still giddy with joy, and will take much more than 10minutes to tire out.

There is something about Moms.. ain't it?

Striking a balance in life..

..is all about doing things in style..

..and having fun while doing them..



..without compromising on education ofcourse!



Learning can be fun too..



..especially with extra-curriculars..



..that also include food!!

Monkeys, Mumma's & Money

Four little mumma's jumping on the bed
One fell down and bumped his head
Monkey called the doctor and the doctor said
No more mumma's jumping on the bed!!

Pari was singing it this morning. Is it only me who feels the rhyme is a little twisted, or can you also sense something fishy? When I asked her about it, she just grinned and ran off!

On a separate note, we are trying to instill the concept of money in her little head. She still believes in a 'free' world and uses her 'free will' to shop. And if she wants something, she simply points out saying that she doesn't have it. Is she entitled to own every single toy/trinket in the world? This is a really twisted way of demanding stuff. Just yesterday, she declared she has 'no' toys, "mere paas koi toys nahi hain", only because she did not have the particular one on display. Now somebody please define the stuff that keeps our home flooded all the time if she has 'no' toys. What bothers me more is her growing disrespect for food. Even before I can offer her something, she declares that she doesn't like it. And she keeps begging me not to cook, "Mumma, please khana mat banao", just so that she doesn't have to eat. And no, I am not terrible at baby food which is plain dal and rice. Last evening when she declined milk, I showed her the TOI front page which had a picture of children sitting in a neat row and eating dal-rice, part of the mid day meal program sponsored by the government. The following conversation ensued-

Me: Pari, look at all these children eating dal rice.
Pari: I don't like dal-rice.
M: Their mumma and papa are poor. They can't buy honeyloops, popcorn and cookies. They don't even get milk.
P: I don't like milk.
M: I know you don't. These children like milk, but they don't get it. Their mumma can't buy it for them.
P: And their Papa?
M: Their Papa also can't buy. He has no money.
P: But he can buy with his card!
M: !!

I tried to keep a straight face and tell her that you can't get a card if you have no money, but not sure if she got it right. She got busy looking closely at the children and enquiring about their names, location and such.

How do you explain money to children?

Of hair-cuts and heart-breaks..

The disadvantages of having a single child shared by two adults are many (though still less than the number required to convince me to have another :P). What makes them even more pronounced is that the two adults in this case, me and the husband think very differently and agree on absolutely nothing. Since Pari is still too young to have a free will, at least in matters which do not involve colours,cartoon characters and food, we attempt to impose our choices on her. The husband wants to take her for rock climbing while I wish to enroll her in swimming classes. The husband wants to buy her a football team tshirt with some 'Messi' on the back, with a name like that I am sure he would have messed it up big time, while I like buying nice strappy frocks for her. You would agree, it is not exactly a pleasure to have your most-beautiful-to-your-own-eyes daughter mistaken for a boy so often, all because she made a wrong choice at the foetal stage and took her father's nose,forehead,eyes and lips. And when it comes to a hair cut, there is no consensus at all. I want to get her hair cut and the husband wants to keep it long.

The fault is not entirely his, we have just 2 acquaintances who have girls Pari's age and both have chosen to keep the children's hair long. And while the little girls do look gorgeous, I personally find it difficult to handle long hair rooted on such small heads. Besides, I really don't think it is all that important to look good, at this small age or any age for that matter. For me, it is always convenience that gains precedence over appearance, which kind of explains my own inability to look good. So this time, when Pari's hair grew long enough for her to pass off as Mowgli(who she loves to bits), I insisted on getting a decent hair cut while the husband wanted to tie it up. We had long and tedious, sometimes violent discussions over it, but all in vain. And then I took the Gandhian route of non-cooperation. I refused to wash/oil/comb/touch the child's hair till it was cut to a manageable length. It worked like a charm. The battle was won, but the war continued. This time on where to go for the hair cut. Some of my loyal readers, if not all 4 of them, might remember this post where I lamented how Pari hates salons, and how I, being the dutiful mom that I am, manage to cut her hair myself. I was confident enough to argue that no matter where in the world the husband takes her, my baby would not let a stranger touch her head and come back running to Mumma's exclusive salon. I couldn't have been more wrong! My little birdie is already taking strides to girlhood . I am yet to make up my mind whether to celebrate or to rue. Enough said.. I'll let the pictures do the talking now.

I am a bad bad mommy...

Pari's school reopened today, and I completely missed it! Her teacher called up a little while back, and asked if we intend to send her back. I am one who takes pride in remembering dates and events, and it is really unsettling to think that I forgot this. The husband is just the opposite, he depends on me for all the reminding duties, and the child is too young to comprehend dates. So practically, the household runs on my memory. And if this is what it has come to be, God save us!

Actually, there are reasons. The past couple of weeks have been crazy, and I have not had time to breathe. Thankfully, it is automated, the breathing that is! The maid went off yet again, she really played it foul this time, and I am bent on making her regret it. You think it is cheap? Go ahead and make me a monster, witch or what-you-will. I am determined to teach the smarty pants a lesson this time for ditching me when I needed her the most. Sorry for the digression, but I needed to vent. And then, there was this illness which extended to over a week and left me really weak and frustrated. To top the mess, I had to prepare for my brother's wedding along with the GMAT exam scheduled last week. All this between washing utensils, cleaning, cooking and baby sitting apart from office work. I think my bird brain couldn't keep up with so much and gave away. I actually lost track of time and date. Anyways, at Pari's age, missing school is not a big loss really. And we plan to send her to school only next month. My aunt and cousins are here for a week, and I would prefer that she spends time bonding with them rather than attend the montessori. Also, we are off to a 3 week long vacation this weekend. So there isn't much sense in sending her to school for just 4 days. But to think that I forgot the reopening date is absolutely unnerving, reasons or no reasons, loss or no loss!

Conversations..

Conversation with Pari this morning:
Pari : Mere papa kahaan hain? (Where is my Papa?)
Moi : Papa bathroom me hain. (Papa is in the bathroom.)
P: Papa bathroom me kya kar rahe hain? (What is Papa doing in the bathroom?)
M: Papa nai-nai kar rahe hain. (Papa is taking a bath.)
P: Kaun nai-nai kar raha hai? (Who is taking a bath?)
M: Papa nai-nai kar rahe hain. (Papa is taking a bath.)
P: Kiske papa nai-nai kar rahe hain? (Whose Papa is taking a bath?)

Aaargh.. kill me now! I so pity stay at home moms. What is with these kids asking useless questions that they already know the answers for, one after the other in the KBC fashion with only more questions for reward. To be fair, she does ask other questions too, probably reasonable for a child but they get my goat. Sample these -

1. Where is Paltu's mumma?
2. Where is that man going? (It can be any random person on the street.)
3. What is Golu doing at this time? (Golu is a friend's daughter.)
4. When will Lucy go to school? (Lucy is a girl teddy bear, if you can imagine that!)
5. What does Papa do in the office? (Hehehe... that was easy... I replied 'nothing'!! But then there were followup questions, sigh!)

And so on and so forth.. and her montessori Principal says, we should not discourage children from asking questions. I remember Pari asking the Principal, 'where are the children?', when we went to collect her progress report, and the Principal taking pains to explain it to her. But honestly, despite trying really hard, I sometimes lose patience with her never ending questions. At the same time, I have a strong feeling that it is only a few years before we start asking questions that Pari would find senseless and unworthy of her time!!

Excluding questions, conversations with Pari are growing increasingly interesting these days. There are so many that I wish to put down here, just to preserve them for eternity. I'll put the most recent one here, before laziness seeps in and I forget it. This one was last Sunday.

Pari: What is this mumma?
Moi: A cockroach.
P: ye mar gaya hai?
M: yes(wondering if she really knows 'marna')
P: Papa ne ise 'maraa' diya hai?
M: Hmm..
P: You don't worry mumma. I will tell the cockroach. Cockroach, you don't bite my mumma. Tum 'already' mar chuke ho!

The last sentence really cracked me up, specially the use of 'already'. Post this, we went out to get some groceries. By the time we came back, the cockroach had somehow managed to turn over to be back on its legs, and started running just as we turned in the key. Pari immediately climbed on the bed, and started screaming.

P: Mumma, cockroach is running.
M: Wait, I'll get Hit(pesticide, sprayed some of it on the poor thing till it died)
P: Mumma, tumne ise 'maraa' diya?
M: Yes.
P: (Climbing down the bed) You don't worry mumma.. I will tell the cockroach. Cockroach, you don't bite my mumma, tum 'phir se' mar chuke ho!

Thank you my child.. I really need protection against dead cockroaches!

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'!

What would you do..

..with a 2.5 year old, her mouth stuffed with food, her nanny chasing her all over the place with the dinner, and her father blaring at regular intervals- 'Finish karo', when she lovingly places herself between the laptop and you and screams-'Mama, mujhko bhookh lagi (I am hungry)!!!

Or the same little one, who scampers off to fetch her dupatta and drapes it religiously around her neck when you take her out to buy vegetables.

The child who pulls a chair all the way from the far end of the dining table to sit next to you, and after all the hard work, plonks herself in your lap.

Who screams 'This is very bad' in a matronly manner every time the husband is sighted within 5 feet in your vicinity and strategically places herself between the two of you. And corrects you every time you call the maid by her name--'Shaila nahi bolte, didi bolte hain'!!

Who snatches away the calculator from you and complains angrily-'mera alligator chhoo raha hai'.. God knows, I wouldn't have touched it had I known it is an 'alligator'.

The imp who observes you curiously while you dress up gaudily for Karwachauth, before asking- 'Mumma, aaj tum ka saadi hai kya'... aargghh.. not again..

The greedy chick who peeks into the tin of Haldiram Gulabjamuns and squeals with delight -'Laddu swimming in the water'!!

And finally, the little Ms. Know-it-all, who looks at you with disdain, when you try to trick her into eating pasta by calling it noodles, and dismisses you - 'ye spaghetti hai, noodles nahi'.. If only the earth opens up now...