Mumma’s Little Helpers

Its the season of peas. Lovely green peas which are now cheaper than what they usually cost throughout the year. The MIL brought around 3 kgs of green peas last week. The plan was to deep-freeze half of it and use up the rest. Since then, we’ve been having peas in practically every dish. Matar pulao, salads, matar-paneer, aloo-matar, matar-karanjee, matar-parathas and the list goes on (frankly, I’m a little sick of the little pea )

The kids aren’t big fans of the pod. But when disguised within parathas or in soup, they have it. Usually though, if they find a pea floating in their soup, it has to be removed!  Point is, they don’t like it much.

Last Saturday morning, I finally got down to shelling those peas. The twins were busy watching some cartoon (rationed viewing on Saturdays ). I suddenly remembered that I’d left my phone in the bedroom. With the BF away, I keep the phone with me at all times…not wanting to miss out when he calls . So imagine my surprise when I walk back to the hall and see this :-

Two little kids trying their hand at shelling peas. Shobby was having no luck with it. I saw him ripping off a few with his teeth. Worst part is, as soon as he saw his paparazzi mom zooming in for a pic, he scooted off the table he was sitting on. *Sigh* He did try to help me, didn’t he?

Lui was the picture of determination and dedication. Though the pods were a little hard to tug apart, she still gave it her best shot.

Looking at her sitting there, shelling peas with a content look on her face, I realized with a pang – my daughter has grown up! Though I refuse to believe it , in my heart, I have to accept the fact that she is no longer a toddler (in fact, I still call her my baby!). She is a grown-up little pre-schooler who thinks her mother is the picture of impatience. Why else would my every question to her be replied with a ,”Thoda sabr toh rakho...”

Anyhow, 10 minutes into the shelling and she called it a day

But I didn’t mind. I’m just glad that she did something without me pestering her to do so. Usually, for kitchen related chores, I rope in Shobby. I ask him to put washed utensils in their place (the ones where he can reach). He helps me put vegetables in the refrigerator after sorting them . For some reason, Lui abhors kitchen work. She will do anything else, sweep or mop the floors, fold clothes, fetch stuff.

For now, I’m just glad that the twins are learning to contribute to the house. I want them to know the difference between a house and a home…….slowly, but surely, we are getting there

 

 

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Daily Household Challenges

Running a household is a damn time-consuming task (not to mention, unpaid, thankless and with very trivial rewards)! I’m not a home-maker per se, but I try. There was a time when I used to cook three meals a day for 6 adults. Now I’ve restricted myself to just the morning/lunch fare for 6 adults and 2 kids. The rest is handled by the cook. There was a time when I used to sweep the house , but now the maid does it. There was a time when I washed the dishes everyday because the maid quit right after I came to my in-law’s place (she demanded extra charges, just for me ). Now the new maid washes them.

Suffice to say, life is much easier than before ,in terms of household work. In all other respects (GMIL’s illness, the twins, job, etc) life is pretty much hectic the way it was before. I dread to think how I would have managed, had we not kept a cook and maid *shudder*

But this post isn’t about all that. This post is about the tasks, that in spite of me doing about a million times till date, I have not been able to master . Alas, for all the lessons learnt and improvement points charted out, I fail in them each and every time

Some of the regular household challenges I fail every time are :-

• After rolling out a million chapatis till date, I’m ashamed to say that rolling a  triangular shaped (folded dough) into a circular chapati is just not my cup of tea ! Beat that!! The MIL and my mom roll out perfectly round rotis, in spite of the initial triangular fold. But I fail! My chapati  will always have a pointed end poking out *sob* All those years in the kitchen wasted
• And while we are in the kitchen, I must say that the exhaust fan and me are NOT the best of friends for a simple reason that it NEVER ‘clicks’ me to switch it on . So the whole house can go on a coughing fit when I cook a particularly spicy veggy, heck even I have to blow the smoke away from my face and wipe my tears as I stir the ladle, and yet, the fan sits there mutely, its blades looking on imploringly while I completely forget it exists!! (and EVERY TIME, the BF stalks in fuming, switches it on with a loud click and stalks off after glaring at me hard enough!)
• Folding laundry! The MOST difficult/irritating task in this world! Sure I do it, but with very little pleasure and even lesser finesse! It is specially unnerving when I have to fold itty-bitty inner-wear of the twins which barely covers my palm! I’m just waiting for the twins to grow old enough to start folding their own stuff!
• I cannot look into a toilet bowl while washing it Go figure! I turn my head to one side while I do the scrubbing on instinct. I would like to blame it on all the hollywood movies which showed creepy-crawlies flying out of the toilet bowl. Phobia? You bet!
• Picking up stuff after the children! Now this is a relatively new work. When I was pregnant and the spine was bent till my head touched the back of my knees, I never knew that for the rest of my lifetime, I would spend with my spine bent , my head touching the front of my knees, picking up the zillion tiny things the twins throw all over the house. And just when I’m done with that last piece of lego and plunk myself on the sofa, the super brats start their ‘game’ all over again! The worst part? When I throw caution to the wind and say,”what the heck?! Am not picking up stuff anymore” and in walk guests, take a look at the shabby house and then turn to look at me. Oh lord, open up the floors and swallow me whole!! Pleeeease!!

disclaimer : As God is my witness, I bear no traces of guilt for the lack of talent in handling these tasks. I’ll do it, but I’ll continue doing it my way

These are just the few challenges I face on a daily basis. Do you have any such regular household work that gets your goat? Is there anything that you do but do it awfully?

Please do share

 

Edited to add : The verdict is out. Folding laundry ranks way up there in the list of household challenges! Enterprising people can look into the lucrative business perspective of this hated job

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The House-Guest Rules

Its been 4 months plus since the GMIL fell down and broke her hip.

And its been 4 months of constant worries, hectic schedules and mounting expenses. The expense part we can handle, but the worries and the hectic schedules (because of the absconding maids) have taken a toll on our patience. Everyone at home is snappy, ready to bite the others head off. But still, we haven’t had any major stand-offs yet

In all this rigmarole, the one constant niggling irritant is the onslaught of the house-guests.

GMIL, God bless her, has a very loving influence on people who know her (except, *ahem* a couple of us). Since the day she fell down, there is no dearth of visitors to our place. People walk in at all odd times of the day and night. Not that we mind, they are family after all, as the MIL puts it.

The Family. Yes, we are that kind of family you know,the ones having  a centrally located house, the main elder couple having ALL their relatives in the same city, the kind of house, which is everyone’s favorite go-to place when its vacation time. So with GMIL unwell, we had all the more reason for people dropping by when their heart so desired.  We never mind the people who drop by, spend time with the granny and then leave. It’s the house-guests who grate on our nerves.

Anyone seen “Atithi tum kab jaoge“?? Well,we did a long time back. But then, we laughed it off. Not anymore. Not when we have people who come to visit, stay back and then make themselves at home with no consideration for the hosts. Going through the trauma of the last few months, here’s my checklist for what a house-guest should NOT do.

(PS: Some of it might come out with a severe vengeance, so just ignore . Solpa adjust madi)

House-guests of the world, listen up and listen sharp. Follow the rules and you’ll have a happy trip. Break them and we’ll make sure we slowly but surely break ties with you . You’ve been warned !!

Rule 1 :- Thou shalt not drop in unannounced.

Its okay if you just want to drop by for a quick hello. However hurried we might be, we’ll still make time to attend to you and stay back and chat. But it’s NOT okay if you plan to stay over for a couple of days, bring along your family , or worse, YOUR friends and expect us to host you till you deem fit to return. The least you can do to reduce our woes is to have the decency and courtesy to give a call beforehand and inform us about your plans.

This is someone’s home, not your all-expense-paid hotel where you can walk in anytime !!

Rule 2 :- When staying at other people’s houses, respect their privacy.

I know this is impossible when your hosts have a small house and hand over their bedroom to you. Even then, if you see anyone in the host family talking on the phone, don’t immediately ask whose call it was. Its none of your business. Also, if you see a couple sitting together late at night and catching up on the days activities, don’t interrupt them to remind that its late and they have to report for work the next day. Believe me, they are ADULTS. They KNOW.

Also, remember to knock on closed doors before barging in. Never forget, this is NOT your house!!

Rule 3 :- If you have a medical problem, its YOUR problem.

You have a heart problem and ‘forgot’ to get your pills? You suffer from diabetes and your medication runs out just as you step into our house? You stay here for a day and start having severe cramps in your legs? Alright, then I would suggest you take the lift to the ground floor and BUY your medication from the chemist store there. Don’t just ask the hosts to get them because ‘its on your way out’.  It’s not. The chemist store is at the ground floor and we take the lift to the basement parking. Also, your medication might cost a mountain, but we are too decent to ask you back for the money.

Or is that your intention after all?!!

Rule 4 :- Respect your hosts time.

YOU are on vacation. YOU have the whole day to yourself. YOU can do what you want throughout the day. Your hosts don’t have this liberty. So when you know that people have to leave for work, don’t barge into the bathroom and take your own sweet time for taking a bath. You can test all the shampoos and soaps AFTER we leave. Believe me , we don’t mind. But we do mind when we are running late for work but you INSIST that you HAVE to take a bath before 8AM because that’s the rule you follow at your place.

Like I said before , NEVER forget, this is NOT your home.

Rule 5 :- Never bring YOUR house-rules to our house.

So you add milk to tea while boiling and not afterwards? Methi leaves should be cooked with a handful of garlic cloves? Curtains and bed-sheets are ironed after every wash? You make sure the house is swept before 7 AM? Well, good for you. Now if you’ll please excuse me , I’ll reiterate once again, THIS IS NOT YOUR HOME. So stop trying to make us follow your house rules. WE don’t mind if our house is unswept until 11AM. WE don’t iron our curtains, we don’t have the time for it. And we like Methi just the way WE make it. If you don’t like it, take it or lump it. But don’t expect us to bend backwards and do stuff the way it is done in your house. By the way, does that give you a hint as to why WE never visit your place?

Also, if we turned our house into a duplicate of your’s , would you visit us? But then again, for the free food, maybe you will.

*Whew*

I think I can go on venting steam here. I’m yet to cover the bratty kids who love opening other people’s cupboards or over-zealous women who refuse to come out of the kitchen, or the ‘forever-in-Gyaan-Giving-mood’ people who make you sit down and listen to them dispensing advise on how we can make our lives better. Thanks, but NO thanks. Our life is just perfect and thats one reason you drop by here so often!!

The weekend’s drawing closer and I’m already gearing up for the onslaught of more visitors. I think our prayer’s for Granny’s recovery are reaching a fevered pitch

Gotta charge up the mood batteries and make sure I’m able to smile through my anger.

Till then,

Ciao.





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The Vacation Updates

It was a Bad idea!!

Bad Bad idea to gang up with 6 kids (5 under the age of 4) under one roof in the peak of summer.

The repercussions of my well thought out plans (or so I thought at that time) can be felt strongly even now

The kids drove us crazy. The heat ensured we couldn’t go out anywhere during the day. Frequent power cuts (which Dad assured us wasn’t the case before) drove the children restless. Keeping them occupied became a traumatic experience .For once, I chided myself for not making my kids used to watching the telly. That way, I could at least make sure they sat in one place for a while instead of running up and down the stairs

Whew!!

Looks like I’m ranting as usual.

Well, now that I’ve already groaned about the negatives, let me take my time and tell you about the good things that happened.Just to maintain the balance and all that jazz

- The Family . The entire family (read, parents and siblings) got together after ages!! I think the last time we all came together was in Dec 2008 at the naming ceremony of the twins. After that, someone or the other was always missing. This time, we all came under one roof and had a ball. Literally

- The Love. The twins got to know their cousins after a long time. This was one totally fantabulous get-together. Where we elder siblings were busy reminiscing about our childhood and the years gone by, our kids were busy getting to know each other. Its a pity we (me and Aapa) stay so far away from the other two siblings. I swear all the kids took to each other as though born of the same womb. There were loads of hugs and kisses given for free between the toddlers (which the elders say have to be coerced out of their children), the eldest kid became a leader of sorts, with a faithful following of 5 toddlers behind him and it was a tearful farewell indeed when the kids of B’lore had to bid goodbye to the kids of Pune.  *Sniff*

- The Time. I had one of the best times ever with the twins. From dawn to dusk, we were inseparable (blame it on the kids. I SO craved for loo breaks and bath times without them yelling blue murder behind my back!). Though it might sound clichéd, I must admit, I bonded with the kids BIG time. Back in Pune, I share them with so many people, but here, I took complete responsibility. Also, since the maid refuses to wash clothes and we use the washing machine, I washed the twin’s clothes by hand (that includes soiled clothing, remnants of a  losing battle in toilet training).

- The Food.The FOOD!! I must’ve gorged on a zillion mangoes (by the name of Banagenapalli which is now my all-time favourite!!), eaten dozens of fried fish and slurped on many a chicken/mutton curries. Needless to say, I’ve returned with one too many heat boils on my face. Ultra-clearasil and Face-Clin gel are now permanent residents of my purse .  I was apprehensive of feeding the kids non-veg (we had limited their intake to eggs and chicken/mutton soups), but seriously, you can keep a catholic out of church, but not a muslim away from non-veg !! The terrible two, fussy eaters them both, coolly munched on fried fish and chicken pieces as though they were born doing that !! And no, they didn’t touch the rice or rotis

- The Talk. Where the twins earlier uttered at the max 5 syllables in a sentence, they have now progressed to entire stretches of conversation, which, if not stopped could go on for hours!! It was hilarious to see the twins trying their best to talk to the younger ones , often repeating the same line over and over again, obviously wondering why the youngsters were so daft! In return, they were at the receiving end when Baby M (who’s a year older) and elder cousin brother Bojo though that the twins were speech impaired. Luckily, everyone inspired everyone and the vocabulary of all the kids is now much enhanced

There is so much more to write about. But I think I’ll pass the talk and post the pics. There aren’t that many, because I was too busy having fun with the kids to bother with the camera. But I’ll surely post them as soon as I download them to my machine.

Till then folks, gotta say, its great to be back

(And Oh, I MUST write a completely new post on my trip back to Pune which is an experience in itself!! Let me keep that for later.)

Have a great week ahead





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Wordless Wednesday

Naah!!

Just kidding

You really think I can be kept away from being Word-y?

Anyhow, after the long rant in yesterday’s post (which I confess was about to go into more deeper anguish but I managed to reign in the impulse and end it quick) I think I’ll do a feel-good post. Okay, so maybe not that feel-good for you, but definitely for me

You see, since the GMIL is in the hospital (still!!), the onus of looking after her beloved plants fell on me.

Me!! The serial plant-killer! The one whose very touch caused leaves to shrivel and buds to die before they bloomed I have poison in my finger tips  I confess, there has to be a reason why plants never survive me. Even this time, once GMIL left for the hospital, ALL the plants died within the first week. Obviously, I could NEVER remember to water them in time. Moreover, the awful heat made sure that we kept the doors to the terraces closed, to avoid hot winds blasting into the house!

Anyhow, after much hand-flailing and cursing self for not watering the mites in this heat, I got back to Operation Recover.

I watered the plants, added the manure. Placed the pots in strategic locations so that they got just the right amount of sunlight. I prayed , I sang. I did everything but pull at the shoots to sprout a leaf. Gradually though, nature favoured my efforts and the plants started springing back to life.

I’m glad to see that before the GMIL comes home this weekend, her little garden is alive and thriving, pretty green leaves sprouting from every stem. I haven’t *errrr..* failed in looking after them

So folks, whatdya think??

No idea what this thing is called

Ajwain

Aloe Vera

Tulsi

This is the first time I saw purple flowers on Tulsi!!

Kadi-patta

There are many more plants, but I never got around to clicking all of them. I’m just glad they are all alive, which, given my reputation with plants, is a HUGE achievement

GMIL will be back this weekend and I’m sure this time around I won’t get the grunt of disapproval I got last time

Fingers crossed!!

And yeah, I’ll be at the mini-garden every spare second until she is well enough to look after them herself. After that, I’ll just wash my hands off these greenies. Literally





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Another reason….

……..why we don’t watch television.

For once, me and the BF, both were at home over the weekend, the twins were asleep and the rest of the family was  taking their afternoon siesta. Instead of catching up on the lost sleep ourselves, we indulged ourselves by settling in front of the new TV and having a never-before fight over the remote.

Now, the issue is, there was nothing in particular that I wanted to watch. There was nothing that the BF wanted to. But we definitely didn’t want to watch what the other wanted to. Am not making much sense here, but to clear the picture a bit, we were at sea as to what we should watch!! So we let the TV run whatever channel it was at and dug into the newspapers in search of TV programs (I tell you, being out of touch with the Telly-land has made us really incompetent at such activities ) .

While we were busy hunting, an ad came on screen. Picture this :-

A winter bon-fire merrily warms everyone, when a snooty stud thinks he knows better and blows at the bon-fire. The super-cool stud’s super chilly breath kills the fire. So obviously, all the pretty damsels, who were around the bon-fire a minute ago, decide that they are distressed enough to flock over to the super-cool guy. Now frankly, if I find a guy blowing fire-outing breath, he’d be the LAST person on earth whom I’d look to for warmth, but the damsels, they thought otherwise. They cuddle up to the cool guy who has the cheapest smirk this side of the Atlantic (the guy on the other side would be Bruce Willis!).

Anyhow, as the babes were trying their best to get warmth out of the freezer they were cuddling, a young woman in hot-pants and a thermal top catwalks to the bonfire and directs a nasty gaze at it. The bon-fire lights up merrily, the death-by-cold-breath now relegated to a distant memory.

Obviously, the cool-breath guy and hot-gaze woman cozy up to each other.

A voice-over wraps it all by saying, ” Jitna kam pehnoge, utna hot dikhoge/rahoge“. (the BF says it was ‘dikhoge’, I heard ‘rahoge’. But whatever the case, it still doesn’t make sense!!)

Me and the BF are still cock-eyed with the amount of eye-rolling we did in those few seconds!!

Seriously!!

What was the ad all about??

Was it about the mean-guy who thought his thermals were so warm, he didn’t need a bonfire….never mind that there were other mortals out there who were seeking warmth!!

Or was it about the hot chica in hot-pants and thermal top? If she was hot enough, why did she need a bon-fire?? Or they wanted to say that she was SO HOT, the fire lit up by itself? If that is true, why didn’t the other damsels cuddle up to the hot one??

UFFF!!

We were so guilty of using our brains on that one!

I looked at the BF, he looked at me. I got up, he switched off the TV. I took my forty winks and he finished reading the paper.

We are back to our normal lifestyle once again, though I’m still rubbing my eyes to get them aligned once again !

(that explains the delayed post )





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How to define “Cool Parents” ?

The twins are mere midgets now, showering their love unconditionally and demanding the same in return. Life is full of hugs and kisses and mushy cuddles :) . Which we are thankful for. The only thing that worries me is that it wouldn’t be long before they wriggle out of our grasp and squirm when we try to kiss them. That they will avoid their best to be in our company and roll their eyes when we say something for their good. That they will think their parents are the dumbest of the lot!! That some day, our kids might label us as “uncool”.  *Shudder*.

So we try and absorb all the love that comes in freely now. Without asking, without demanding. The twins have grown rather possessive of their momma ,who does a rather silly preening act when they hold her tight and claim that she’s theirs . Awww munchkins, who else would I rather belong to?!!

Anyhow, while on trying our best NOT to be uncool, I can’t help, but recollect instances of my parents bringing us up. Which doesn’t strictly mean instances where they disciplined us, but rather, just slices of their life and how exactly I’ve come to believe that my parents rock big time in the ‘coolth’ department

Check these out :-

==================================

1) Dad was posted as the CWO (Commanding Works Officer) in Dehradun. We were regular visitors to the DSOI (officer’s club) every weekend. In those days, we owned a Fiat (Premier Padmini) , which technically ran only on sheer will power and not petrol (as is the case with the current brand of cars). Anyhow, we used to get dressed to the nines, pile into the car, dad would insert the key in the ignition, and after the car gave a few failed spurts and chokes, we would pile out again , take position and push hard. Now, I’ll tell you one thing about the Fiat of days gone by. Those machines were made of metal. Heavy metal. No fancy fibre and stuff. Just hardcode metal which weighed a ton. I realized this much later when I got a chance to push Dad’s Maruti Zen and the Maruti 800 before that. These new cars were so light, almost easy to push them single-handedly. Whereas, the Fiat required all the force we three sisters could exert.

So we hiked up our skirt, positioned our stillettoed feet, placed our hands on the dicky and grunted totally unladylike while pushing . There were lucky days when the car would start (albeit with a few jerks) within a few feet of pushing. And then, there were days when it took us close to 500 metres to get that heap of metal to respond!! Aah!! Joyful, it was NOT!!

But that’s not all. While leaving the house, we were lucky that the pushing took place within the driveway of our Bungalow compound. So no one could see us and cause us misery and humiliation.

But, it was a different story when returning from the party.

There would be other people in the parking lot. We would bid everyone good-bye , pile into the car and start praying fervently that it start. But it wouldn’t. So it was back to spilling out, hiking skirt, positioning feet,placing hands and shoving hard.

So much for dignity

When a couple of officers offered help by way of shove, Dad would politely decline them. He would say that his daughters are no less than boys and he would expect nothing less of us than to pitch in when faced with trouble. The poor officer would step back politely and we would resume pushing, with a fake smile on our face, unsure whether to take pride in what dad had said or resent him for refusing to part with that rusting-pile-of-heavy-element-masquerading-as-car !!

Looking back, I realized two things. He made us independent and responsible and not some simpering damsels in distress who look to other people for help. And secondly, we gotta cherish and look after things which are old. Not all old things are useless and have to be sent to the scrap dealers.

And oh, he finally donated the car to an orphanage. He couldn’t come to terms with selling it!! It was his first car, after all

PS: the Brother was in Bangalore in those days and was of no help whatsoever

2) While travelling in the same Fiat , mom would often chide Dad if he stepped up the accelerator. For her, even 30 on the speedometer was “speeding”. Dad used to have a tough time arguing with her and we three would simply tune out, gaze outside or start chattering among ourselves. It was understood that the parents would still be arguing on the speed even after we reached our destination.

Anyway, one such day on MG Road, Pune, Dad was cruising along, when suddenly this auto-rickshaw guy creeped up besides him and yelled into his window,”bageeche mein chala rahe ho kya?”

Without missing a beat, dad replies,”Mujhpar mat chilla-o. Yeh madam ko bolo. Inko tees ki speed bhi zyada lag rahi hai“.

Without missing a beat, mom retorts to the auto driver,”Problem kya hai? Overtake karna nahin aata kya?”

Poor auto guy just looked flummoxed and sped away as fast as his auto could take him.

Meanwhile, obviously, we three sisters were doubled up with laughter!!

3) Once, when I was about 11 years old, I walked into the kitchen to find my parents locked in a tight embrace, with dad just bending down to kiss mom. I was shocked!! For Gosh’s sake!! We are Indians!! Our parents don’t touch each other, let alone kiss!! We all knew where babies came from! They were the outcome of two roses,sunflowers or dahlias getting cozy and then the mother returning from the hospital carrying the baby. Surely our dad had NO role to play here!!

But here he was, cozying up to mom the way the roses had done in “Aan Milo Sajnaa“. Not done, I tell you.

So I stood there gaping at them. Mom flushed a deep pink and tried to get away from dad. But he held her tight. Turning to me , he said,”If you don’t mind, I want to kiss my wife. I don’t need your permission for it. And oh, for the record, she was my wife before she became your mom. So beat it”.

Beat it, I did. Totally appalled at the blatant breach of morals!!

But down the years, when I see dad come home and randomly pull out  a single rose for mom, proclaiming his love for her, even  after all these years, I’m all misty eyed .

I don’t see any harm in expressing love. It comes naturally to my parents and I would like my kids to also realize that their parents have their own personal life too. Surprisingly, none of my friends have ever seen their parents get cozy or even the least bit intimate. More’s the pity!!

4) There was a time when I was living alone in Pune. Bags was in Gurgaon, Aapa in Dubai. Bro was in B’lore with parents, but was awfully busy with work. Dad had taken up a plethora of activities post retirement and seemed to spend most of his time away from home.

Mom used to rant at us that Dad isn’t paying her any attention, he’s immersing himself into a zillion activities and try as she might, she’s unable get interested in those herself! Oh well, there wasn’t much we could do other than tell her to start her own activities. She hummed and hawed and said she’ll see.

So what does my then 55-year-old, middle-class  mother do?

(Well, what do such ladies do anyway??)

My mom had her head shaved.Yup, she got rid of her shoulder length, thick hair. Not just trimmed, but shaved away!!!

And that, got Dad’s attention. And how?!!!

He was flabbergasted at seeing her. And my mom, cool as a cucumber says, “If only you’d paid attention, this wouldn’t have happened!!”

Dad made sure never to ignore mom after that.

And Oh, when Mom came over to Pune shortly after the shaving episode, I swear she stunned everyone here too. My cousins promptly declared her the coolest person ever and begged mom to retain the look. Even I was impressed. And jealous!! She had no right to look so cool and amazing even without hair   (and here I was , mourning the loss of each hair that left my scalp, never to return!!)

5) Army wives have this habit of dressing up their living rooms with trivia, show-pieces, driftwood and the singular piece of embroidered Horse, mounted as a frame (you won’t believe the number of houses which display The Horse. It almost has a standing of its own!!).

A long time back, maybe sometime in 1985-86, mom made our Orderly-bhaiyya (The guy assigned to assist Dad) to run out to the main road to collect the shattered glass pieces of an accident that had taken place there the previous night. The advantage of those shattered glass crystals was that they generally didn’t have sharp edges. The orderly-bhaiyya collected as much as he could. Mom then washed those crystals with Nirma , dried them and then filled a glass vase containing some dry-arrangement thingies with these crystals. The over-all look was beautiful!! Those glass crystals stayed with us all these years, although their quantity kept depleting, what with bratty officer’s-kids stealing fistfuls and throwing them around!!

Recently, when I was in B’lore (before my wedding, so make that 4 years back ) , me, mom and dad were returning from a big dinner party from RSI (MG Road, B’lore). On one of the by-lanes leading to our home, mom noticed the remains of a recent accident. There was a large pile of shattered glass lying on the road. Since it was close to mid-night, there wasn’t a soul around. Mom suggested that we pick the glass since the stock at home was over. I protested vehemently, but surprisingly, dad seconded mom. He said it would hardly take a minute if all three of us pitched in. So very reluctantly, I piled out with them. Mom fished out a plastic bag from her purse (I have the same habit of carrying my own plastic bags now!!) and we three squatted down to collect the glass.

Half-way through, a police patrol bike came up and the two policemen astride were stunned to see three well dressed people huddled up on the road. They couldn’t see what we were up to, but surely, that looked even more suspicious!! One of them called out to us and asked us what we were up to!!  Dad had this mortified look on his face. He turned beet red, stood up slowly, cleared his cravat-covered throat and in his best Kannada, explained that he was helping his wife collect broken glass.

It didn’t make any sense to the policemen. Why would a middle-age lady, dressed in Kanjeevaram silk, stoop to collect glass pieces off the road? They just gaped at us, expecting more. Mom quietly got up and with a dignified nod of her head, declared that we were done. She apologised to the policemen  (in chaste urdu) for holding them up and walked calmly till the car. Dad quickly followed. And the only reason I tagged last, was because I couldn’t get my eyes off the policemen’s face.

I’m sure they thought us a quirky family, the kinds who own a high-end car, dress impeccably and then huddle in the middle of the road collecting glass pieces

I wish I had a camera to click the expression those policemen had!!

Even while leaving, I turned back and saw that they were still rooted to the spot, wondering if they were dreaming or people like us do exist

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 Looking back now, I realize my parents really  are the epitome of “cool”. They let us choose our own field of education or work, even let me make my own choice in the matter of marriage. They were never patronizing or the kinds who imposed their will on us. They were just themselves and gave us a choice of being either ourselves or being what others wanted us to be. Luckily, we take after them.

And I seriously hope that down the years, I give my kids enough chance to think positively about their mom too. And also their dad. Even if he feels that kids should stick to the flowers-give-babies theory .





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The babies are here!!

I got a pleasant surprise yesterday morning.

Our darling pigeon’s eggs hatched yesterday.

The Mamma pigeon was mighty pleased with her offspring.

One hatched, one to go

The poor little thing was so tiny and helpless. The only prominent part of it was its beak, far too large for such a tiny frame.

(The white stuff towards the right is the rice I managed to shove into the pot without the mamma pigeon trying to kill me!! Seriously, whats with the mamma’s who threaten with death if you come ever so close to their babies?!!)

And this morning, there were TWO!!

Siblings

The pic hasn’t come out great (you can barely make out the second one). Thats because the mamma pigeon wasn’t very pleased at being disturbed from her pot and was bristling at me severely )

The mamma keeping a sharp eye for her brood

There is a crow who’s been circling this area since the babies hatched yesterday. But every time he ventures anywhere close to the pots , suddenly a horde of pigeons from around the building swoop down on it and chase it away. The first time I saw it, I didn’t pay much attention. But now I’m seriously impressed with the team work. The babies are lucky to have such a loving family

And I have deep respect for the mamma pigeon who never leaves her post unless I come too close for comfort. She has been diligently keeping her babies warm for the last 2 weeks. I wonder how she would have managed food and water if I hadn’t bothered to stuff her pot with grains. The way she digs into it, you can make out she is famished. Poor thing. The sacrifices a female of any species has to make!! Except maybe a queen bee, or a praying mantis. But I digress. The babies are adorable and am looking forward to clicking more of their growth pics

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An eventful weekend

Since I was waiting for the 101th post entries, I didn’t get a chance to take down the major events that occured last weekend (5th and 6th of Dec). There was so much happening so soon….so many new things in my life!! I just have to take them down here before my memory fails me .

Updates on RS

 * RS has mastered the art of bossing her brother. She excels at it. One look from her and SS quivers right down to his bones.

* She has turned into quite a dancer. So the FIL drums a beat on the table and this madam starts dancing like she is at a ‘Ganpati Mandal’ during Ganeshotsav. It is a mix of Maharashtrian street dance with a dash of the Punjabi “Balle Balle”. You figure out how it looks . Surprisingly, she dances for everyone at home, but no amount of coaxing or cajoling will make her dance in front of strangers (people new to her). Good going, I say

* She can now mimic any action that you do. So say ‘cheese’ and she displays all her teeth , trying to say cheese herself!! Make a big ‘O’ with your mouth and see her doing the same!!

* RS had her first visit to the barber’s shop!! Her hair was growing really wayward and we thought it was a good idea to give her hair some shape. So the FIL gladly took her out on Sunday for a haircut. I was all prepared for the FIL to come back and lament how much of a fuss she must have created (being surrounded by strangers). But he came back grinning, saying that she was as still as a statue, absorbing all the new things around her. The mirror, the high chair, the lights…am sure these sights were far too interesting than the drab home she sees everyday!!

So RS now looks like a little Tibetan Monk. The only thing missing on her is a maroon coloured one-shoulder drape outfit. Then she would easily be mistaken as the nth incarnation of the Dalai Lama

Updates on SS

* He has now learnt to add the rings to the plastic ‘lagori’ stand.

* He can join two Lego bricks together !!

* He called me “Mamma”. Clearly, distictly and in the presence of the BF. So there was no mistaking that!! Actually, I was playing  with RS in the MIL’s room. The BF joined us shortly. Noticing that SS had wet his nappy, I got up to get him a dry one. And SS immediately jumped up and followed me , calling out , “mamma, mamma”. I really dont have words to express what went through me right then!! Was it like a bolt of electricity charging through each vein? Or was it just the plain rush of old-fashioned motherly love?!! Dropping the nappy, I simply launched myself at the poor kid and smothered him in kisses. He has become quite cautious since…careful not to use the “M” word loosely again

* SS had his share of the barber’s visit. He had this weird hair growth where the crown of his head had hair upto 3-4 inches long, whereas the sides had these downy hair barely a centimetre long!!  The barber decided that a haircut wouldn’t do. SS deserved a complete shave of his head.

So my baby now looks like a character from the Chankya series. The only things missing on him, are a dhoti and the sacred thread across his chest!!

Updates on BF

* No major updates, except the fact that I could convince him to work from home on Saturday instead of going all the way to office (he has a release today).

* I couldn’t keep him away from going to office on sunday night. He stayed there the whole night and came back this morning….surprisingly refreshed!!! Apparently, the morning breeze took away his exhaustion. good for him…since he plans to go back to office in the afternoon!!

Personal updates

* I made Biryani on Saturday. Nothing new…a regular weekend meal with family. But guess what??!! It was praised by none other than…hold your breath…the GMIL!! Yup, you heard that right!! She LOVED the biryani. The one made by ME!! Gasp!! I just couldn’t believe it when she said ,”its tasty”. That compliment is H-U-G-E. In other words, I have attained ‘Nirvana’. Mera jivan safal ho gaya!!

* Took time to visit a parlour on Saturday for doing stuff that women do in parlours. I thought it would be relatively free in the afternoon, but it wasn’t. It was packed. Anyhow, so there was this hum of conversation going on with customers and attendants chatting about this and that…..when there came a lull in the conversation…you know, the time when suddenly everyone seems to have stopped talking.

And at that precise moment, my attended chose to ask me this question, “Are you pregnant or has your tummy come out just like that ?”. It was sincere question meant just for me…but in that silence, every ear heard it. Heads turned to look at me, look at my tummy and look back at me, waiting for my answer. Thats when I wished that the proverbial earth split and swallow me!!

“hehe, I had twins, you see”, said I feebly, shrugging my shoulders. Apparently, the others were not convinced. None of them cracked a smiled. Maybe their fackpacks had a role to play there.

Anyhow, I cursed and ranted in my head and tried to ignore the whole scenario while mentally thrashing the attendant for putting me in this miserably embarrasing situation!!! Quickly wrapped up the session, hurried home and described the whole thing to the BF.

“Hmmmm”, said he. And there, the whole matter died a silent death.  Thank God(??)!!

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The need for home improvement…..

……and how to have a say in these matters.

One of the disadvantages of living in a joint family is that no decision has a single owner. Too many people have a say in all the matters. And a final decision takes place only when ALL the members agree. This works great at many levels, since all members of the family get equal status.

It works horribly for me, because rarely do my ideas find acceptance. And I need to wait for approval from many quarters. The BF is awfully loyal in such matters. He stands by my ideas and gets them implemented.

We have a wonderful house. Large, spacious , with two big balconies overlooking the main road. It wasn’t brand new when we bought it but the previous owners never really lived there. There is so much that can be done to enhance the space. Alas, the opinions vary :-

FIL : hates clutter. Likes to have bare minimum furniture. Lesser is better, is his standpoint. Severely against buy new stuff, if the older ones are in working condition.

MIL : wants to do away with most of the old stuff and get newer stuff that suits the house.

GMIL : strongly condemns the thought of doing away with old stuff.  Get new stuff if you want, but the old ones stay.

BIL : wants to totally revamp the place. His idea is to restructure the house internally, to accomodate a room for GMIL, a room for study,a prayer room, etc.

BF : Couldnt care either way. Whichever decision is finally agreed upon, would be duly carried out by him. No questions asked.

Me : Ummm…am at a loss here. There were sooo many things I wanted to do, but now I can barely recollect even one!!

BTW, I stand guilty of having one of the most cluttered rooms in the house. I was never known as a spick and span home-maker. The Bro had even warned commented on it to the BF (before my marriage).

I have my reasons. There are many things that I’m interested in. I like doing a little bit of embroidery,painting,sketching,music,star-gazing,etc. and hence, my room has the paraphernalia related to all these activities. Add to it, the loads of stuff belonging to the twins. Also add to it that we are yet to get decent wardrobes/cabinets made, so most of the stuff lies around in cartons shoved under the table, over the table, under the bed, over the cupboard….you get the drift. No wonder my room likes the Salvation army’s junkyard!

And, I’m still awaiting consensus from the entire family for getting the wardrobes made in my room.

PS: In the IL’s defense, any furniture work conducted, needs proper planning and finance. We cant be only re-doing my room. There are 2 other bedrooms which also need to be redone, along with the hall and kitchen. Hmmm…that sure is gonna take up time (AND money). No point in me ranting about it .

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