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.

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.  

Starting something new..

Pari had a field visit recently, and returned home particulary tired. One may assume that the fatigue was due to going through an eventful day on a near empty stomach. As a matter of principle, she doesn't touch any food that is offered  by the organisers on such trips- which, to most kids is very enticing, but doesn't appeal to our child. However, when has lack of nourishment bothered the apple of our collective eyes. She was wornout because she had been making notes on all the things that she saw in the museum so that she can continue to refer to her diary whenever she forgot any of it. My immediate reaction was to tell her that it is alright for people to forget things that they see in museums - particularly because many museums house more objects that one can possibly see in a day, let alone remember. The British Museum boasts of 8 million objects, though only 1% objects are on display at a given time. That is still a LOT! Also, isn't it more fun just enjoying the museum than documenting it?

I am not sure how much of what I said made way into Pari's head, but it did remind me of my younger self on a South India trip way back in 1994. It was family trip - with a motley group -12 people from 4 diff places in groups of 3 who had all congregated in Hyderabad for summers. We had all gathered for my cousin's birthday, and got bored of staying home which is why my aunt had to organise this trip from us. We travelled for about 10 days visiting Bangalore, Ooty & Mysore and I remember myself taking copious notes all through - because just like Pari, I didn't want to forget any of it. Also, like Pari, I wanted to carry my notes back to Allahabad so that my parents & siblings could enjoy my travels vicariously. Little did we know then, that in not-so-distant future South India would become home to me, and we will all get to spend months and years in Bangalore! Nevertheless, I am thinking of chronicling my travel experiences once again and start a travel diary on the blog. Which means that I will need to start taking pictures, and decent ones at that of the places I visit. This is sounding a tad ambitious at this point, but let me not give up without trying. On that note, I am ready to relive Angkor Wat.. tomorrow!

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 - 3

The title is getting boring, isn't it? And to think that I am about to spend the next entire year here-- 350 days, there is scope for around 50 more entries to the diary. Should I continue with the name, or should I be more creative? On second thoughts, I would rather spend time writing the journal than thinking about new titles. So the name sticks, at least for the time being.

It has been a pretty much uneventful weekend so far.. not that any excitement is expected during whatever is left of it, unless a frog jumps in my room. This has already happened once and I couldn't sleep the entire night, scared that the creature might just jump on my bed or worse still, on my head. My sister often caught frogs from our garden as a toddler, and brought them inside to show us -- 'Didi, dekho!'. I would dash out of the room very abruptly, leaving the child bewildered. I wonder if she is still that comfortable with frogs. Digression over, we visited the local market, aptly named 'Behaala' yesterday. The place was indeed 'behaal'.. buzzing with activity, and very crowded. We sighted a lot of ladies dressed in lovely, crisp cotton sarees, usually in white and off-white with pastel designs. It surprised me to see them dressed so immaculately for casual shopping. Whatever it is, I am so buying sarees before I leave Cal!

Today, the day was spent holed up in my flat except for the mandatory visits to the mess. I felt like catching up with the other girls but they were all in their respective flats, and I wasn't sure how welcome would I be. I think it is the same with the other girls, they probably wish to interact as well, but have their own apprehensions. Hopefully, we will be more comfortable knocking at each other's doors once we get to know the group better.

P.S. Just returned from dinner to find a frog jumping around the house. Wish I had mentioned Tom Cruise instead of the darn froggie, you never know...

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.

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.

Random.. really so!

My husband never ceases to amaze me! We have been married for close to 4 years now, and I already knew him for almost 2 years before we tied the knot. It is such a long time now, I feel I have known him since ever. So much that it is difficult to imagine that there was actually a time when we were not together. And still, there is so much to him waiting to be explored. If you just scratch the surface, we are a very regular kind of couple. Most couples look that ways.. but I am sure they share a different chemistry each. We are so different in so many ways that I often wonder what bought us close. But then, on second thoughts, we were not so different 5 yrs back. Moving from the early twenties to late twenties has changed us a lot, and top it with marriage and a baby. You get the picture, right? No, you don't.. You can't! There is so much more than that, and it is not possible to put it all down in writing.
Now before I ramble further, let me tell you what triggered it. He has updated his blog after nearly 2 years, and after reading the recent one, I just went on to read his previous posts. He has hardly blogged since we got married, the last 3 posts are on food, food and more food. But when I read the stuff he posted 4,5 and 6 yrs back, I find him so different. It is like rediscovering him. I have off course read all of it earlier, but that was so long back that it is as good as never. Today, it reminded me of the person I fell in love with.. the person I yearned to spend time with, and pledged my life to.. Post wedding, we have had a love-hate relationship. I say that for myself. He is not the kind to hate anybody, least of all his wife. It is me who hates people seriously, remembers every rude word directed towards self, trusts God to even out.. Yes I do all of it. But then, I am one who craves for her people, her place like crazy, and never forgets the slightest act of kindness. The spouse is sort of neutral, and manages to appear annoyingly so. However, his blog says otherwise. It speaks of a gentle, sensitive, warm soul who probably uses a cold exterior to create a formidable facade. Deep within, we are probably still the same. I so wish he would blog more often!

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..

Pari: The second year: III

Continued from the previous posts here and here.

This year has been a roller coaster ride with my little fairy, and we have had lots of fun with some troubles. Pari fell sick a little too much in the last 6 months, has lost oodles of weight and most of her chubbiness. The worst was the chest infection she caught around 3 months back, and she took 15 days to just get rid of the bug, the recovery took much longer. And then the stomach infection which started the day following my brother's wedding, and got cured only after we returned to Bangalore 2 weeks later. Compared to last year, she is much thinner, lighter and just a little taller. I guess she is falling in line with her parents, both me and husband are slightly built and have been underweight all our lives. Again, I shall not dwell on unpleasant subjects tonight. We shall talk happy. And Pari is by all standards, a healthy, active and happy toddler. I use the word for the first time ever in her context, it was very recently that I realised that calling her a baby might be misleading. I mentioned her to a new colleague who replied that she also has a child. Then, she proceeded to add, that her daughter is not 'so small', since she is 2 yrs old. Well.. so is mine, but I still call her a baby. Sorry, I digress again.. Lemme recall some things that Pari did/still does. One of my favourites is the way she had trouble combining syllables. She could say Papa, Mama but not 'Nani'.. that will be either 'Nana' or 'Nini'. In the same vein, she was reading her rhymes, when I heard her say 'Humpta Dumpta wall'. Or the time when she wished somebody a happy birthday with 'Happaa to you'! Now that she has started saying 'Happy', I miss that 'Happaa' sooo much.. Btw, my mom just called up to wish her an early Birthday, and she just replied with 'Happy Happy'. Probably she wants to wish happiness to all on her birthday.
Pari loves dogs, from the time she was 3 months old. Her favourite toy is still Paltu, who she carries along every where all the time. On top of that, our neighbours have 4 dogs, 2 Great Danes, and 2 Pomeranians. She calls out to them all the time through the window and even talks to them by woofing. No wonder 'Bho-Bho' was one of the first words she uttered. Btw, the first was 'Papa', sigh! And Pari is crazy about children. She calls them all babies, and some kids take it really personally. Like this little girl, around 4 yrs of age that we met at a party, she got so hurt at being called a 'baby' by a 1.5 yrs old. She retorted in a haughty manner: 'Why don't you look at yourself first'.. Off course Pari couldn't get it, she just got a little scared and retracted, but we including the girl's parents had a nice laugh. And then, this concept of temperature that is developing by the hour. I seriously regret the times I said 'hot' before her. And now she knows 'very hot' too.. I give her milk, she says 'thanda', I look curiously at her, she says 'heat'. I go and put it in the microwave for some 15 seconds, and come back with the bottle. She takes the bottle, and says 'very hot'. Can somebody please tell me what is the ideal temperature for milk? And what calamity to expect if it is one degree below or above that?? It is not just milk, but everything, bath-water included. She tests the water before getting into the tub, and invariably finds it hot. Offcourse it is hot, that is precisely why we've got the geyser, but it is what we need to take a nice bath. Probably we need to introduce 'warm' to her as well. She usually goes on with this 'hot' business till I really get hot in the head and dunk her in the tub. Once inside, she forgets all about the temperature and starts enjoying it. Bath times are Pari's favourite. Even in her worst temper, you mention 'nai nai' and she romps to the bathroom. But the endings are always teary.. she never wants to come out of the tub and screams when I pull her out. At times, she wakes up early in the morning, and while we are still sleeping, quietly slips out of the bed and goes straight to the bathroom. We often wake up to the noise of running water. The love of water doesn't end here. The water from her sipper is also used for a mini bath, she drops it all over her little body, with clothes still on. And this leads me to another of her oddities. She hates dressing up. I have heard so many people complaining about their kids being choosy about their dresses, but here I have a baby who chooses "no clothes". The little nudist likes her undergarments though, and doesn't want to take off her vest at any point of time. Apart from that just a diaper does her fine, or more recently shorts. Oh yes, there is this one thing about Pari for which I can't praise her enough. She has been practically diaper-free for the last 6 months or so, except off course at nights. I must have done something really good to have her develop this sense at such an early age.
I don't think I am done, but 3 parts was what I promised and so be it :)

Pari : The second year: II

Continued from the previous post..

When Pari was around fifteen months old, my husband left for a month long office trip. I was all settled with had a comfortable job which payed less, but allowed me to maintain a healthy work-life balance. Also, in January, we got lucky and got a trust-worthy live-in maid who did all the household chores, including excellent cooking and also looked after the baby. This effectively meant that I had absolutely nothing to do apart from my office work, and with the husband gone, all my time and attention post work belonged to my little girl. Now, this led to a major turn in events. It might interest you to know how it all began. The night he left, I sat with the baby and probably because I felt so low, for the first time talked to Pari like a person and not just a baby. And boy, was I in for a surprise! To my astonishment, I realised that she had developed a reasonably good understanding of things around her and was so eager to grasp all that she got exposed to. She already knew so many things that I never thought she could.. That 45 minutes of talk with her was my moment of revelation. She was no longer just a baby, a pretty pink thing who just had to be fed, cleaned, entertained and taken care of, she actually had so much more to offer. I feel compelled to admit that I had not been a good mom all along. How could I be, if I knew so little of my own baby.. and the bonding was seriously lacking. There were many reasons, no not excuses, but actual reasons for this, but I shall not recount those on the eve of her birthday. The only reason I would care to give now is that I could not relate to her. There wasn't sufficient communication and all I knew her to be was a doll, unaware, unintelligent.. I loved her, I played with her, I had breast-fed her for almost 10 months, but it was only her charm, her cuteness, her innocence that attracted me to her. Now, I saw a personality and a very beautiful one at that. Within no time, I fell head over heels in love with her... Those 5 weeks just flew off with her. I bought her small books and would read the names of the objects in those. My heart would burst with pride when 2 days later she would recite them back. I would sing and dance with her, talk to her. The husband came home to find a smarter kid and a wiser mom. She learnt the body parts as well, and could tell her forehead, elbow, knees, palm and feet too. This process of educating her bought us so much closer. English and Hindi alphabets, numbers and rhymes followed. She did not talk in full words, she just said the first syllable, but that was enough encouragement for me. And then her 'game' came into picture. My husband got it from the USA but I am sure it would be available here as well, and in all likelyness at a lower cost. I am elaborating on it a bit because I found it so useful and nice. It is marketed by Fisher Price under the name Laugh and Learn, it has this keyboard, one which fits over the desktop keyboard and then all you need to do is install a software. It has 3 levels to keep 1 yr to 3 yr olds engaged and learn in the process. I would recommend it to everybody who has a child in this age group. It is worth every penny spent, and better than most other learning toys and kid laptops put together. Coming back to Pari, she is completely hooked to it. Our little scholar has already spent many productive hours on it.
To be continued..

Pari : The second year

Prologue: This post was written 10 days back, on the eve of my daughter, Pari's 2nd birthday. Though I had asked everybody to call us before 10.30, way before midnight which is the common thing done since I wanted to sleep early, this post kept me up well past midnight. And yet, I could not post it in time.. There were 2 things that I wanted to do before posting: 1. Break this up in 3 parts to keep the length reasonable, I hate long posts. 2. Go over it in leisure, and edit it to make sense, at the same time, remove parts that make me sound a mushy, carried-away mom.
So here is the first part. I'll schedule the posting of the following parts for tomorrow and day after.

Pari turns 2 tomorrow... and I intend to do a picture post for this birthday too on the lines of the first one. But that shall be later, so that we get some nice budday pics too. For now, I would just list down the progress through the year, more for my remembrance sake than to share. The year began with my brother-in-law's wedding, and Pari, just a-month-over-an-year old enjoyed it lots. My mother joined us a couple of days before the wedding, and thereafter the baby was all hers. She slept with nani, ate with nani, played with nani and was generally an angel. This is in stark contrast with my brother's wedding last month where Pari was literally as attached to me as she was 2 years back, only it wasn't the umblical cord this time. It was the baby's strong will! I must admit, her behaviour did not make me particularly proud. But then this is how most kids her age are. The extremes being marked by this paradigm shift in attitude, there has been so much progress in all spheres. I would try to put things in chronological order, as far as I can remember. Pari took her first wobbly steps shortly after her first birthday, but after a nasty fall the same day, she just gave up. She did not as much as attempt to walk for the next two months. People back home grew concerned, she was labled a slow starter and umpteen suggestions flowed in including that to buy a walker. We were not too concerned though. Firstly we had seen her walk for 15 short minutes before the fall that had her so discouraged. And then I saw no reason to hurry this up.. I mean, I just thought that later or sooner she would start walking and will continue to do so for the rest of her life, but the cute cute crawling would be gone for ever. I love the way Pari crawled, she would at times do it so vigourously that she actually resembled a frolicking puppy and then there were variations, the most special being crawling backwards. I have it recorded on a DVD and if ever I am able to rip it, shall definitely share it here. It is truly precious. And mind you, it is not easy. Just get on your fours and try crawling backwards, you'll know why. Finally at 14 months, Pari started walking and she walked well. Probably since she started late, she picked it really soon and there was hardly any tumbling. Again, a blessing in disguise. I hate it so much when my baby gets hurt.

To be continued.