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Sunday, 27 November 2011

Ingenious thoughts of a 3 year old

I've had this post in mind ever since I wrote the one about my better half's peculiar mannerisms.

Kids tend to ramble. But my youngest one used to go about it with such a serious outlook and so much maturity that a few of them are really worth sharing. Coming from a 3 year old, some of it is pretty heavy. I bet all moms have little gems like these stashed away.

Being a working mother, I often missed out on a lot of the baby talk, especially with my elder two. Regretting doesn't help, I know, but better late than never. I'd somehow managed to juggle my work timings to be available for them more. Sad to say that only the youngest one still needed me around by then. The other two had learned to survive without me. It was heart breaking, when you offered to do something, but found them more comfortable managing by themselves.

Its usually when I'm in the kitchen or folding up the laundry that my 3 year old sidles up, with never ending streams of questions or to share her concerns with me.

  • It was the month of Ramadan, and I was busy getting the Iftar organised. My 3 year old suddenly declares that "I want to be a Mummy when I grow up". I ask her, "Why?" and she tells me, "I want to cook lots of food like you and serve everybody". God! I didn't mind dying and going to heaven then. At least, someone was taking notice of my efforts in the kitchen.
  • Well after the above declaration, she went on in the same breathe, "But, if God makes me a Daddy when I grow up, (she goes on to mimic her father watching TV, a remote in hand, legs crossed over the coffee table) I'll be always watching news and if Daddy comes up asking whether he can watch cartoons or makes any noise at that time I'll tell him, "Chup!" (she puts her forefinger to the lips with a stern expression on her face). Its seems Mummy and Daddy will be kids when she grows up and she'll be taking care of us. Its going to take her a long long time to realise how right on target she is. :(
  • This happened just after my little one had started school. My husband usually fools around with the kids and pretends not to know anything and make them explain it to him. She was playing Teacher Student with her father, teaching him the English alphabets, A through E. He kept entertaining her by mixing it up, and got it right only after a dozen attempts. She gets exasperated and comes up to me, "Mumma, did Daddy really ever go to school? He doesn't know anything". She has been rigorously training her father ever since. He has to put up with dictations and tests on a regular basis and the "Eee Daddy kku onnum ariylla" remark (Daddy doesn't know anything). Poor man he's lost his self-esteem.
  •  This is the funniest. My brother got married in 2008. My trio keep watching the videos of the wedding and have kind of memorized the entire thing by now. He's pretty scared to visit me, since they torture him with the epic details of that video, especially the follies he's trying to put behind. One evening my brat suddenly exclaims,"When I get married, I won't kiss my husband". All of us are kind of stuck mid sentence at her revelation. We cautiously enquire, and discover the wisdom behind those words, "What if he doesn't brush his teeth properly" Now that had us all ROFL.
  • This one is about matrimony again. She had moved on to her UKG by then and was almost 5 years old. There was this boy named Elvin in her class, who also happened to be our neighbour. She gets off the school bus and right away asks me, "Can Elvin marry me?" My eyes kind of popped out, like it does on Tom & Jerry and I squeak out a "WHY?" "Well, his family knows ours and we know theirs too. We live close by so I'll always be near you and he says he likes me", came the prompt reply. How very practical these kids are. I wonder what she'll say when the time really comes.
I've kind of forgotten some of the things I wanted to write. I have to always draft just as the inspiration comes, otherwise I usually lose my flow. Sometimes I create a post and just jot down the points to elaborate and polish later. But when I sit to write I'd be having a different train of thought. Wish there was some technology which right away put my thoughts into an electronic form and posted it when I had gone over it completely in my mind. Its something like the conversation issue I'd mentioned before. Just having gone though the thought, blocks out the sting to tap away at my keyboard.

Friday, 18 November 2011


A few quirky facts about me :D

  1. I'm still a hardcore Tom & Jerry fan.
  2. Since I fight with my trio aged 12 to 6 for my share of chocolates and goodies, their father buys everything in 4's now. He claims I'm a 34 going on 4.
  3. I bawl shamelessly when I happen to watch atrocities on TV.
  4. I have a passion for drawing and photography.
  5. I have a phobia of frogs and lizards. If lizards were my enemies during my stay in the UAE, it is the former which is making life hell for me now.
  6. Music influences my mood very strongly. But when I'm feeling down they somehow tend to make me more sad.
  7. Silence and Solitude are my best friends. I prefer writing to speaking. During our honeymoon days, my hubby was perplexed by my uncanny ability to give answers with a bare minimum YES or NO wherever possible. But now he's finally realised that ingrained habits are hard to change.
  8. To avoid arguments I usually debate it out in my mind, thus saving the parties involved, especially me the dilemma of having to actually carry out one.
  9. I'm a night owl and can go without sleep for at least two days in a row. But I hate having to wake up in the early hours of the morning even if I've slept non stop for a week. (I really despise Mr. Atro Srcib for that early bird trait he has. I'll address him as Ascribe if he doesn't mind)
  10. I'm very very self conscious and its taking me a lot of effort to click that Publish button. But since I'm not face to face with anyone, I'm going ahead and doing it.


I've been fuming with frustration and pent up anger ever since I returned from the class arranged by the RTO Kalpetta, Wayanad. A class for driving students aimed at spreading awareness among drivers. ?????!!!!!

You'll must be wondering what my problem is? I'll enlighten you on how the whole affair was carried out and probably at least some of you will empathize with my sentiments.

The seminar was being conducted at the auditorium of a government school nearby, as part of a road safety campaign. I got there at the campus and the very sight of the structure made me want to puke. Shattered window glasses everywhere, surgical gloves and blood stained cotton swabs (probably left behind after some medical camp conducted there), disposable paper cups,. The inside of the auditorium was no better. The dust accumulation on the table seemed at least 3 inches thick and the above mentioned debris had found its way in there too. The place never seems to have seen soap or water or for that matter even a broom, since the day it was built. The only positive highlight in the entire charade of events was that, the officers arrived promptly and got the lecture started off on time.

The lecture itself was another big hoax and a pure waste of time. This guy goes on and on about the rules to be followed on roads that don't really exist in this part of the state, as though he lives in some other world. And somewhere during the talk he says that it takes only a minute to save the world if mankind joins hands. Now I really felt like throwing up. He never once said what we had to do if  on the center of the road there was a pothole, as big as a volcanic crater which could probably swallow up your entire car. 

I don't know if you city people will understand, but at least 70% of the roads down here are not wide enough for two way traffic. Forget all the bullshit like sign posts and road markings. 50% of the above said roads are filled with potholes almost as wide as the road. Like the epic Bollywood masalas, if we add the N number of ricks and two-wheelers to the above scenario we have almost all the necessary ingredients to cook up an accident. Since there are no footpaths or parking areas, people walk on the roads, cars are often parked on the very same roads too. Now the concoction is complete.

I really don't get it. What's the point in making people spent half a day to listen to crap. Nothing that he said works on the roads we have here. So, I don't understand how this talk was going to be helpful in reducing accidents. Everybody who went there just wanted a seal on their papers that they have attended the talk and the price we pay is sitting around in rubbish listening to even more rubbish for half a day.

I had a hot water bath when I got home. Scrubbed myself for an hour. My body feels clean, but my mind is still reeling from the way things turned out today. One big melodrama. My inability to contribute positively, to make some difference even though in a small small way, only increases my restlessness.

Tomorrow will be another day........

Monday, 14 November 2011

I want to write like crazy. I have cartloads to write too, but I am on the mend from a very bad infection and don't have the energy for much creativity.

Thought I'd share this article which I read recently.

Of Paper boats and Plastic dolls

So until next time, Ciao!!

Thursday, 20 October 2011

Do we belong to the same species?

I don't know if these points can be genralised for all men, but at least this is what's happening with my man and from what I've heard from friends I'm not the only one with a "Hard to Understand" partner. And I thought sharing these thoughts might help you and me relax a bit and accept them as they are.

Ok, let's go:

1. Men hate shopping - Never ever go shopping with your man. They tend to have this constipated look (I pray my hubby never happens to come across my blog), which ruins the kicks we females get out of shopping, even if its only to buy the groceries. And five minutes into the thing he'll get started with the, "Come on let's get going" line, eventually forcing you to give in. And the next time you mention shopping, he'll wail, "But we already did our shopping last weeeeeeeek".

2. Do not let him handle that shopping cart!! - This is a corollary, to point 1. Now, if at all you have the bad fortune of shopping with your man, never entrust the shopping cart or basket to him, because, by the time you've decided on which cereal to buy for the kids, or contemplated which Hair conditioner will resolve your irrevocable hair-fall issue (there's always so many options and way too many brands), you will find no sign of your cart, or your man for that matter. You run around the aisles, playing hide and seek, your arms loaded, and finally you locate him, pushing that trolley towards the checkout counter as though he's on some mission.

3. Men sleep over their arguments - If you have an argument with your spouse or BF the previous day, it ceases the moment he wakes up from his nap. If you sulk about it, you get this weird look which interprets as - Argument? We? When? You wonder whether they have a serious case of Amnesia. And since they have got over the issue, it means we get over it too. No Questions!

4. They Forgive but NEVER Apologize - Now, if you have a misunderstanding and somewhere along your guy realizes that he's made a mistake, they'll say, "OK, I forgive you" (!!!!!????). You do a double take and leash out at them, for their audacity to say something so......(I'm at a loss for words) They'll never follow your disagreement, "I forgave you, now what's the problem?" is how they retort, which leads to yet another squabble. Trust me, the next time be wiser and save your breath. They really are very dense most of the time.

5. Men are not equipped to multitask - This is nothing new now. Its an already proved scientific fact. You wake up in the morning, have breakfast prepared, get kids ready for school, pack their tiffins, drop them off at the bus stop, have lunch preparation in progress, bathe and get dressed, and yes without fail serve him a cup of tea as well, phew I'm simply exhausted listing it out and you hear him yelling out for his socks. If I was going around the house like Katrina or Irene before, I feel like turning into something more destructive now. Comeon, atleast they can learn to fend for themselves, even if they don't contribute to the N number of chores we already handle.

6. Ask Mummy - OK, this is the only positive trait which puts you in a better light. But it also means more work for you. Whenever, my kids approach him with doubts or school work, he's so lazy to pitch in (90% of the time), "Why don't you ask your Mumma?" is the usual reply they get. My youngest one recently had a doubt whether her father had actually attended school( ha ha ha ha, that reminds me, I need to post some of the great ingenious thoughts of my 6 year old)

7. Override Mummy - This is in direct opposition to the point above. And this happens when the Kiddos need permission to do something, for which they have approached you and you have already denied them. And my Kids are soooooooooooo cunning!! They make a request to their father right after having heard my NO, coz they are certain that he'll agree with them and may be even join them in the escapade, making you look like the villain in the family. Includes stuff like watching TV, eating chocolates or ice cream, skipping their bath.

Oh! I could go on and on cribbing about my man, even though I love him to pieces. But you are welcome to contribute those very evident traits men have and we fail to digest.

Wednesday, 19 October 2011


I had one of those very uneventful days, which took a turn for the better. Woke up late this morning, no power supply (Groan!!!!!), rush around getting kids ready for school, serve breakfast, clean up the mess scattered all over the house, make beds, broom,.....Its a never ending list, the compilation of which is arduous in itself.
And home makers all over the world probably go through the same motions every day of their life. And if on any given day you choose to be a bit lax, all hell breaks loose, making you wonder, why you thought you could get away with a bit of laziness. That's one thing I envy all those maidens out there for. You don't want to make your bed, fine, no one's going to raise hell, except probably your mother, whose tantrum you are used to.
Ok, where was I? Ya, so the day passed without any dramatic events, except for the fact that there was still no power, but since we have an inverter, there was no excuse for keeping away from my office work. (I don't know if I've mentioned earlier, but I've recently quit my full time office work and now work from home. Unfortunately, other than the fact that I don't need to dress up for work, everything else seems unchanged.)
Kids got home by 4 in the evening, and after the playback of their entire day at school, bath, tea,.......(You know the continuation of the previous never ending list) they settle down for their studies. The inverter has reached its limit by now and starts beeping non stop. So I shut it off and there being no lights, my trio wander off to play, lighting scented candles all around the house. Its drizzling outside and dark inside, I should be feeling gloomy, but for some reason, sitting alone on my balcony, in pitch darkness, listening to the sounds of nature, the rain, frogs, insects and somewhere in the background, I hear my daughter practicing for her Indian Patriotic song competition, a song with a Hindustani classical touch. I got out a straw mat and lay there on the floor, with my eyes closed. Alas! The tranquility was lost with the restoration of power. 
I guess the word "Earth Hour" makes sense to me now. My energy levels already seem to have peaked and will see me through the week without feeling down. And plan on doing this more often. An escape from reality and all the mundane routine, into a serene world, even if only for an hour. 

Sunday, 16 October 2011

Managers in the making

I sometimes get the feel that I have 3 managers in training at my house. And it irks me big time. Grrrrrrrrrrrrrrrr......

Ok, now what basically do managers do? "They control or direct an institution or operation", says the dictionary. And in my personal opinion, a manager is one, who not only ascertains that his subordinate is loaded to the max, but also never appreciates his/ her efforts. And off course blame them for all the failures in an operation.
Now where do my managers come in? I'll explain. I have 3 angels, who are perfect (OK, not so flawless actually) until you ask them to do something. The moment I ask my eldest one to help me out with something, I hear her yelling out to her younger ones and breaking down the task, assigning them to do it. Three people being there on the job I hope something will come out of it.

Ha! And what do I see when I come in? Nothings accomplished. I call out my eldest who had been initially handed the job and there comes a plethora of excuses, explaining how she had very effectively and promptly appointed the second one to do this and the third one to do that and that its their incompetency that has left the task unaccomplished. This leads to a big drama with one pointing the finger at the other, a lot of screaming, wailing and a little bickering too. Which leaves me wondering why I called them in for help in the first place.
There's no one to blame too. Their excuses go something like the...Anybody was supposed to do it, but Everybody thought that Somebody would do it and then Nobody did it.
I don't know about you, but I think I get some idea of what really happens in some of those big corporate offices or better still in our ever efficient government offices.
So, with 3 people helping me around the house, I end up doing more than my fair share of the work. And add to that the mess that comes from their attempts at assistance. I prefer to make do with their moral support these days. You know the big broad smiles, hugs and affectionate kisses. Its a lot better deal to strike out, compared to the horrible hardship of being a manager.

Saturday, 15 October 2011

Ignorance is Bliss

My sister in law recently gave birth, to a healthy young boy, which brought back memories of my first personal exposure to motherhood. Since I have 3 girls, aged 12 to 6, I come under the experienced and wiser category I presume. But thinking back to that first time I can't help laughing. Ignorance sure was bliss. Going through the daily ups and downs of taking care of the family, I often wonder if I would have willingly stepped into the role, not because I detest it, but due to the impending fear of failing miserably.

I got married during my first year of college. Falling pregnant was not on the agenda, but it somehow happened when I was in my final year. There were a host of emotions that coursed through my mind, regret, anxiety, joy. And though I had to put up, and also at times give up, I really treasure the memories of those wonderful days.

It left me pretty exhausted at the end of my tiring days at class. There were days of sickness, days when all I wanted to do was crawl back into bed. Rushing off to sites to work on my projects was arduous too.

Days went by, and there were times I wished I could just let go of everything and simply enjoy my very pregnant state. I had just completed my 7th Semester exams in the evening and planned on relaxing until classes started for the next Sem. Being 36 weeks pregnant only made the break all the more appealing.

But as the saying goes,  Man proposes, God Disposes, I went into labour the following morning.

Though, physically I was feeling like a wrung out wash rag, mentally I was elated. My beautiful little daughter was sleeping away after her feed. She looked so peaceful and angelic. Come night time, I tell my mother, "Now that this whole pregnancy drama is behind me, I'm going to have a good night's sleep. With the baby kicking and boxing inside I could hardly sleep these past few months. (And my my, sleeping was actually a hobby of mine.)". My mother gave me a look of concern (now I realise that it was pity actually). She told me with a very grave expression, "Honey I think the days for sleeping are over!"

I just stare at her in stunned silence, which is broken by my wailing daughter. She was wet. We change her and settle for the night. I lie down still pondering over what my Mom had said. There goes my little one again, time for her feed. This kept happening all through the night.

In the weeks that followed I realised the implication of her words. And I finally had to accept the fact that the days of sleeping were really really over. And that's the most precious preoccupation I gave up I guess. OK, that was round one of stepping into the Mummy shoes.

Then one by one I had to give up on many of my personal luxuries. There used to be a time when I wondered how my mother had her bath in 5 minutes, because my bathing regimen took close to an hour. Now its my mother's turn to be astonished coz I dash in and out of my bath in less than 3 minutes. The last time she visited me, I couldn't help laughing at her shocked expression, when I got out of the bath. "I guess the days for bathing are over too!", I told her over merry tears of laughter.

There are several things I've learned over the years, and sure am the wiser for all that knowledge. There's going to be more surprises along the way, some pleasant others not. But I choose to remain, gladly unaware of the mysteries of motherhood that are yet to be unearthed. So I'm blissfully ignorant, until I'm hit by the next brick of motherly wisdom.

Thursday, 4 August 2011

Click Away

Its always amazing how an old snap manages to open the flood gates of memory. You may have forgotten a few names, but the faces even after all these years stay put.

I happened to post an aged school photo on fb and the response it generated was so overwhelming. It gave me a chance to connect with so many long lost friends and classmates. The magic that photo spawned still lingers on the fb pages.

It took us all back to those care free days where the only thing that mattered was us, the only responsibility our books. Gone is the freedom, gone too is the innocence and trust. But it makes you feel young and vibrant and like a fantasy lets you escape into that world where you were just you and all that mattered was just you.

Makes a refreshing change from the inexcusable duties bound to you. Studying could always be done tomorrow, right?. Sitting in a row and doing last minute eecha(fly) copying assignments from the guy or gal next to you, who in turn might be doing the same. Night outs, black coffee and cramming for exams on the last possible day. The wonderful practice of procrastinating. Really miss those days.

But unfortunately, lax is not tolerated very well in adult life.
Wanna bet! Try keeping that report submission for the last day of your deadline and you'll experience the unbelievable load of work that needs to get done on that very same day or better still your kid chooses to fall ill that morning and you have a splitting headache to add to that list.

Oh! Talking of kids don't ask what a little laziness could cost you on the home front. Urgggggghhhhh!
I postpone the laundry for a day and guess what, whatever it is in that laundry basket is the essential item for the following day. You put off doing the dishes in your sink or making the bed or clearing up washed laundry or all of it one day and Presto! Ding dong goes your door bell. And whose there at the door? Who other than your Mother in law or that wonderful overzealous neighbour you wanted to impress. Only if the floor would gape open and just swallow me up. Adult life truly is pathetic and embarrassing.

And I thought I was embarrassed when I was caught bunking classes or jumping school compound walls. Thinking back, that was really hip and something to be proud of. A feather in my cap!!!
There may be no photos, but the images are sure imprinted into our minds. A snap to pull out from your memory, to muse over and store back. To be retrieved again when you need a much wanted break.
A strange smile playing on your lips.

Saturday, 2 July 2011

Nacl = Mother

"Father, I love you like meat loves salt!" The first time I read that, I really thought the girl was crazy. No wonder she had to face the wrath of her father. (King Lear and his youngest daughter Cordelia from Shakespeare). 

Now that I've started cooking (and making guinea pigs out of my unsuspecting hubby and kids) I perceive the true power of salt. The all so important, common Salt or NaCl in the chemist's language is truly a power to reckon with. (I wonder who coined the term, it should have been Emperor Salt or Royal Salt). 

My Chicken Biriyani is a pinch short of salt and all for want of a pinch of salt, my whole days effort goes down the drain. Oh and don't ask what happens, if it was the other way round, then its just plain ruined. No chance of even salvaging the dish. Salt the almighty ingredient.

But, come to think of it, no one exclaims, "The salt is just perfect!" Its always the chicken or the bhindi or something that takes credit. Poor salt, only works backstage.

Some people in life are like salt. And what comes to mind, is my mother. And I miss her proximity and regret having complained about the smothering indulgence. Neatly folded stacks of laundry, polished shoes and all matching pairs of socks in the draws, a sparkling house, yummy dishes served not only to you but friends you bring along (unannounced). A warm glass of milk on nights you have to sit up late and study, ..... 

I could go on and on, its a never ending list. Now that I'm on the other side of the stage, I realise what it must have been like to keep things going that wonderfully. (Not that I can hold a candle to her).

We never realize how much they put up with to keep things really smooth and oiled for us. We complain about the food, about the clothes she bought, about why she has to worry her head if I was five minutes late from school, why she insists on making me eat breakfast before dashing out of the house EVERY single morning.... They never give up!

And now a decade later I perceive what she was doing, by always being there for me. She was being the salt in my life. Thoughtful, caring, loving,..... adding taste to my life!

Mom! I love you like salt!