Of Passion And Work

For a few months now, I’ve been contemplating going on a sabbatical. The thought first crept in when I was busy on my previous project and didn’t have the time to breathe. I was cranky, tired and snapped at every given opportunity. Working 12 hours at a stretch for weeks does that to some people. I’m among one of those weak, insipid ones who fall prey to long working hours . It didn’t help that I also have kids and a family to tend to.

Somewhere along the way, it didn’t seem worth the effort. I was putting in all the hours I could. I know I’m good at what I do, yet, I wasn’t happy. Satisfied maybe. Glad to be doing something with my brain. If I were a housewife, I would most likely be found in the corner of my room, cobwebs hanging over my body, hair in dreadlocks, drool over my chin as I chewed my pencil over Sudoku, level Hard. The kids would be forgotten, cooking would be a distant memory and the BF would  almost be on his way to becoming one.

But I digress.

I like what I do. Which doesn’t really translate to “I LOVE what I do”. I don’t love it. Period. I don’t like taking work back home (though, there are times when I cannot avoid it). Each evening, as I lock up for the day, I’m glad about leaving. I hold my head high and rush out as fast as I can. I never look back. Its not about the work, I’ll admit. I’m sufficiently engrossed when I’m at it to forget to call the BF for his morning call. I’ve even missed out on calling the Pediatrician regarding some ailment of the twins only because I was busy debugging a script (bad parenting example here). I’m glued to the PC because I’m interested in what I’m doing.

Working From Home

The current project I’m working on is much better than the previous one. I like the easy familiarity with the tools and the platform I’m working on. I like the good vibes I share with the people at the client side. Though I’m busy, I’m not neck-deep in it. I do have time to breathe these days .

Yet, I think I need the break.

I’ve been contemplating a lot on what I really want to do in the long run. Should I continue in IT or should I venture out to doing stuff that I love?? A really long time back, I’d written a post on how I want to start my own boutique. There was a time when every single dress that I wore bore results of my painful contribution to its look. A little thread-work here, a few sequins there, a little mirror-work on one and sometimes, a little painting on the fabrics. There were other times I thought of taking up writing full time (thats a joke really. And like I said, I was just ‘thinking’ about it ) because some people who read me liked what I had written. It was a powerful boost of self-esteem and confidence. It felt good to be appreciated for doing stuff that I loved to do.

When I decided to take a break, I also decided to hunt for other avenues of income, things which didn’t take up as much time as the current one does. I was in a dilemma, because I’m one of those people, the jack-of-all-master-of-none types. There’s a lot I can do, but not good enough to guarantee a regular income! So I thought that maybe I could start writing short stories or articles (only problem being, I suck at social commentaries and my kids HATE my stories )

So imagine my surprise and consternation when I read this article by my favourte movie reviewer, Baradwaj Rangan ( Since 2007, when I first discovered his blog, I swear I haven’t watched a film unless I read his review first. He is GOOD!!) . A snippet from his blog states this :-

“That’s one thing you’re not really prepared for when you begin to “follow you passion,” that one day it will become a job, and the pieces you used to write at your leisure, for fun, for a break from the daily grind, now come with deadlines. No one tells you that, one day, the passion becomes the daily grind.”

This is exactly what I was afraid of all along, just that he presents it in a much better manner.

I have my work on one side and my hobbies on the other. I like writing. But I also like writing at my leisure, when I feel like it or IF I feel like it. I did a short stint for Parentous. Contributed for a month(thats a total of 4 posts) and then suddenly, it seemed too much. Though I had to contribute just once a week, the pressure of coming up with a meaningful post every week seemed too much. I realized I couldn’t do it. That I was uncomfortable sharing my blog-time on someone else’s blog

When I read BR’s blog, it made sense. My insecurities were not my whims. There was someone else who was facing the same issues. Today, when I get bored of my work, I know that I can turn back to sewing a few sequins or weilding that paint brush. I can sit back and read a good book or turn to my blog to spout my feelings. But what happens if I do all these for a living? I’ll probably enjoy doing all this…..but one day, when I’m tired and bored of it all, what do I do? If my comfort hobbies become my work, then what would be my comfort when I feel like getting away from it all?  Some would suggest that I would need to build up diversity in my hobbies, learn new skills (you are never to old to learn) but after an age, its not everyone’s cup of tea to chart new paths(you cant teach an old dog new tricks!!) .

I’d applied for leave, hoping that I’ll find my calling in something else and follow it. Probably submit my resignation and follow the dicatats of my heart.

But now, I think I’ll just use the leaves for what they were meant to be…..a break. I’m still not ready to change my track. Sure, my work doesn’t bring me big-time happiness. But it brings in the moolah, which kind of compensates for everything else. Plus, if I ever get bored or need a break, there’s so much more I could turn to, to bring me comfort.

For now, I’ll not give in to the temptation to make my passion my work. I’ll let it be what it is……so that when I want to get away from the grind, it is right there, welcoming me as always!

Please do take a few minutes to read BR’s article (link given above). It is brilliant! Puts a lot of things in perspective.

Do let me know if anyone of you has given up their job to follow their heart….I want to hear your side of the story too

Love,

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Of Secret Bonds And Spaces

I recently read a book called “Break In” by Dick Francis. Its a story of a steeplechase jockey and his twin sister set in  the backdrop of Francis’ forte – horse racing.

Right from the beginning of the story, it is made clear that the two leads have a bond that is strongly telepathic, they can both read each others mind and even as kids, could figure out where the other was , when the elders got tired of searching for one.

As I went deeper into the narration, I felt as though this book was written for Lui and Shobbs !! The invisible bonds that tie Kit and Holly together, is creepily similar to the bond between Lui and Shobby. It is fascinating, to see them both together. They fight, they yell, they squabble, they land punches and usually beg us to get rid of the other. But the second we, the adults, try and reprimand any one of them, the other gives out a banshee call and literally goes for our throats

Lui will complain about Shobby, I turn to scold Shobby and Lui will whack me with her plastic bat, indignant that I dared to raise my voice on her brother! Shobby, not the whacking type, tends to hurl himself on us to put maximum distance between us and his sister. A kabaddi-champion in the making, is my wild guess!

I can list a hundred different instances when they both abhor the intervention of any third person between them. At school, they may completely ignore each other, reveling in the company of other friends. But the day Lui skips school or Shobby is at home, the others gets restless, refusing to talk or play with the other kids . Their teachers have time and again pointed out this behavior in every parent-teacher’s meet.

Recently, since the BF is away, the twins sleep with me. One night, since Shobby and Lui were involved in a major fight where Shobby was the main culprit, I punished him by making him sleep on his bunk bed. What I didn’t bargain for, was the effect on Lui. She was awake most of the night. She kept waking me up to convince me to bring Shobby to our bed. She was worried that he would be scared all alone. Apparently, she was deaf to his snores . Each time she woke me up, I would ask her to go back to sleep and not disturb me. Eventually, she woke me up to inform that she was joining her brother on the bunk-bed.

By the time the two woke up the next morning, they were back to screeching and clawing at each other.

Frankly, I’ve given up on the two. They might bring the house down with their yelling, but I desist from playing the referee. Let them fight, they’ll obviously make-up after a while. Then they will shoot accusing looks my way and hold me responsible for all the misunderstanding between the two

Its funny and sad at the same time…..I mean I know the kids love me and all but somewhere, I believe they have their own little space where I’m not invited. As they grow older, I can feel the space expanding. Earlier, they used to come and talk to me directly about anything. Nowadays, they discuss among themselves before approaching me . They crack their own jokes, get under the blanket and laugh their guts out, play peek-a-boo with each other…and I, stand outside like a silent observer, simply watching them and thanking Allah that they don’t need me to keep them busy. That they have each other.

But it hurts too . A teeny tiny ache in the vicinity of the heart……

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With The BF Away…..

….. I can now plan my weekends

Okay, I may sound a little heartless right now, but hear me out.

When the hubs is around, my weekends depend on him. He has this typical habit of letting me know his plans at the nth minute.

At 6pm on a Saturday evening, he would say, “We have to attend my colleague’s kid’s birthday party”.

“What time?” I would ask.

“6:30 pm”, he would reply.

“Ummm…so that gives me 30 minutes to get myself and the kids ready, pack their bag, buy a gift and be there on time. Great. I’ll start pronto”, I say and proceed to do exactly that.

Within a few minutes of my preparations, he would say, “Rehde ….kabhi aur chalenge”.

And I would go, ” ” .

Sometimes, I would tell him that I’m going out shopping. He would ask me to be back within an hour because we have to go out somewhere. I would end up cancelling my plan because seriously, just one hour for shopping?? Unless you have a list of only 10 items, all available at the same spot, it just isn’t possible !

Anyhow, you get the drift. Mostly, we would plan something, it wouldn’t work out and then we would plan something entirely different and end up doing something that we just hadn’t planned. Go figure!

So, now that the BF is away, I have a few activities lined up for myself -

1) I had bought blocks for doing some block printing on dupattas. May start with those first. I’ll post the result of my efforts soon

2) Visit all my friends in town who’ve become new Mommies. A visit to them all is long due . a long line of kids await their not-yet-present maasi

3) Visit my sister…maybe even stay with her overnight (along with the kids, of course ). Being in the same city, it’s a shame I meet her barely once in 3-4 month’s time

4) Visit my relatives. And also the BF’s. I really think I must take the kids out to meet the extended families as often as possible. I don’t want them to nod their heads in dismissively when I take a relative’ s name (I do that sometimes…..because I barely know them )

5) Visit a parlour. Yes, I think I should visit a parlour more than twice a year. More so because my skin is slowly and steadily turning into a hot-spot for all kinds of zits of all colours and shapes. Right now, I have bumps whose colours range from white, yellow, orange, pink, red, brown and black. How’s that for a pallette?!!

6) *ahem…ahem* Exercise. Okay, I’ll wait till you finish laughing.

*tap*

*tap*

*tap*

Done?? Good. Have we got that tiny moment of disbelief out of the way,yes? Excellent.

So where was I?

Yeah, about the working out. I’m serious this time. Dead serious . Not only that, I’m going to start eating healthier. More greens and lesser oils. More raw than cooked. At least the vegetarian part. Don’t think the raw non-veg stuff will agree with me

7) Start some new routines with the kids. We do have the regular feeding, storytelling, bathing and getting ready routines. I think the kids are now old enough to start on crafts. Maybe once a week, we’ll sit down together to get our hands dirty with paints and play-dough and glue and glitter. I think it will be awesome

8 ) Read more. Yes, I can now read more books as long as I want to without worrying about he BF waking up. Frankly, he sleeps deep and has never asked me to put down a book. But I feel guilty all the while. A part of me gets distracted to check if he’s disturbed because of the light. However interesting the book, I’m never able to give it my 100% attention. Now, I can.

9) Bake more. There are a hundred baking ideas floating in my head. Its time I gave them some life. Successful outcomes will be posted here. Failures would best be forgotten

10) Sleep more. It kind of contradicts with 8) but can’t help it. I intend to hit the sack early and get up early for 6). Only a nice deep sleep will allow me to look at 6) favorably. Else, all will be lost

There is also this teeny-tiny thing that I keep ignoring. I must and Really, REALLY MUST start taking the car out, at least on early mornings. It seems ridiculous that I got a four-wheeler driving license last year and till date  haven’t had the courage to take our car out, by myself *hanging head in shame* . I do think I should take this risk, though frankly, I’m not sure I can commit myself on it.

Dear BF, if you are reading this, believe me, I do miss you. I’m just packing my itinerary so that I don’t sit around the house and mope for you ….not that I’m not doing that already, its just that it upsets the kids!! Anyway, here’s a song for you today…heard it on the radio this morning….its a nice foot-tapping number and the lyrics are quite appropriate for what I feel right now . Here goes :-

 Missing you, as always !

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Bonafide Parenting

BlogAdda (bless them!!) is turning into an addiction.

As if getting free books from them (under the book review program )wasn’t addictive enough, they’ve now got me hooked to their new blog on Parenting. Its called Parentous.com. Believe me people, if you want little nuggets of everyday ups-and downs of parenting, then do hop over to their site. They have some amazing authors with some awesome slice-of-life stories.

And…err… *ahem*……*cough cough*, there’s one post by me *blush*

Sadly, I submitted that post in a hurry and it didn’t turn out quite like I wanted it to.

Hopefully, I’ll write better in the coming weeks!

Do drop by and take a look.

 

Thanks

 

 

 

 

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The “Just Married, Please Excuse” Contest

I saw this contest on Parul’s  blog and from there hopped onto YOEN’s contest . Reading some of the entries from there, I realized, that I wasn’t the only one who had some ridiculous experiences immediately after marriage . Some of the others had it far worse .  Please do check out the links here .

Anyhow, this is one contest which is hard to ignore (not because of the free books, silly, well, maybe that too ) because, I think its time I put down my wonderful memories for posterity’s sake. Its not everyday that you go on a honeymoon, do you ?!!

So, without much ado, here’s my story -

It was Jan 2007, just a couple of weeks after our wedding. We had a houseful of guests and it didn’t seem right to jump off on a honeymoon when they were at our place, for us! So the minute the last of the relatives packed their bags and left, we packed ours too and headed off to Goa.

Winter – Goa….awesome combination !!

We had a morning flight from Pune and reached there much before the actual check-in time at the hotel. I spent the time strolling out on the lawns, checking out the place that would be our abode for the next one week. The BF finally got the keys to our room, which was on the top floor of one of the hotel buildings and didn’t have an elevator. By the time I huffed my way up, I swore never to come down again. But after one look at the pretty studio apartment and the pool-view balcony, I was ready to forgive and forget.

The BF meanwhile switched on the TV, checked out the sports channels available and declared himself satisfied . He settled himself in front of the television set and asked me if I could get him something to drink .

The first day, we went down to the hotel restaurant for lunch. It was empty, surprisingly, since it was already 1:30 pm and I had to drag the BF away from the TV.  Country bumpkins that we are, the term called “room-service” never clicked . Anyhow, there we were, hungry and alone, waiting for at least someone to come by and drop us a menu card. A waiter finally sauntered in, ramp-walked to our table and neatly tossed us the menu ‘book’. We looked at him, he looked back nonchalantly.

“Oh well, must be a Goa thing”, we mused and went back to perusing the menu.

1 plate paneer tikka (6 pieces) [sic]  — 300.00

1 sweet lime soda —150.00

Yep, those were the rates. We aren’t really the stingy types, but seriously , the menu card had us reeling. The only reason we shelled out 450/- on those meager items was because I had reservations about walking out, so ordered anyway. The BF refused to eat a bite at that place.

Believe me, the paneer tikka could have killed someone if aimed correctly at their head. The lime soda came in a wine glass. Of the smallest size.

Anyhow, what is food when one is in love and on a honeymoon?? We spent the next few days roaming the beaches, driving along the streets, sightseeing and honeymooning. For a little trouble, we started making our own mini-meals in the fully-equipped kitchen. It was  the perfect time of our lives. Well, almost.

The fourth day dawned nice and bright. We roamed around some more, met up with BFS’s mother and aunt, who were thrilled to see me and the BF and then found a nice restaurant where we could hop in for some quick lunch. The family seating was on the first floor and again, surprisingly, we were the only people there for a long time. Not that the food was expensive or bad. On the contrary, it was pretty good. Anyhow, post lunch, the BF paid up and we started walking down. Or rather, he walked down. I simply tripped on the hem of my skirt and went rolling down the stairs, banging my head every which way and finally reaching the landing, curled up in a ball. The BF, my knight in shining armour, kept yelling, “Arre, pakdo!!” to the waiters below, who, seeing a human canon-ball hurtling their way, just made sure that they stayed away from my path. Curiosity and the concern for their marble stair-case as well as the loaded trays in their hands, had them staring on in earnest.

Picking up my dignity, my torn skirt hem and then myself in that order, I stood up, indignant about taking help. Shouldn’t have bothered. None was forthcoming. For some reason, ‘Humpty dumpty’ started playing at the back of my mind. The BF was still rushing down the stairs, concern and giggles fighting for place on his face. Its amazing how fast I rolled down. The BF joked later that it was my weight that made for the quick trip. Of course, he said that well into the third year of our marriage .

Anyhow, I was too conked out to talk much. We drove back tom the hotel where the BF bought some Iodex and spent some time massaging my sore spots. Those marble staircases hurt like hell!! He tucked me in and closed the door, so that I wouldn’t get disturbed. I spent a fitful time sleeping, not really deep asleep, but too tired and in pain to get up. Finally, I mustered the courage to trudge out and find the BF. Only, he wasn’t there. I called up his cell, no reply. I waited. And waited. And waited.

After 3-4 hours of waiting, he walks in. Sweaty, grimy and with sand pouring out of his hair.

“I had the BEST volleyball match on a beach, EVER!!”, he squealed.

“Oh really”, I took the cold b***h approach.

“Yeah! I had some local kids on my side and the other team had Russians and Germans! You should have been there…I played really well”.

“I couldn’t have been there, you know. Just in case you didn’t notice, I have a bump the size of an egg on my forehead”, I pointed to the aforementioned bump.

“Ohh, its still there?? Don’t worry. It’ll go away. Don’t think about it too much. You know, none of us could speak each other’s language. The local boys didn’t speak anything other than konkani. But still, we had a smashing game. You should have seen the crowd that came to cheer us”.

“I couldn’t have come”, I said, making sure each syllable was shot out like a missile. I also made sure that my eyes were glued to the TV.

“Oh ho…..never mind, so tell me, whats for dinner??”

It took him a fraction of a second to take that line back, else, there would have been only one person returning from that honeymoon. Me

———————————

By the  seventh day of the trip, good cheer was restored once more. We went on a trip to Old Goa and visited all the churches and craned our necks to check out all the zillions of paintings! It was with a heavy heart that we went back to the hotel to pack-up. We had a train back to Pune in the afternoon. I suggested to the BF that we reach the station early, you know, just in case.

“There’s plenty of time babes”, he cooed and took me on another trip around Panjim.

After one last lunch and some sight-seeing we went back to the station. Only this time, the train had already left.

Apparently, the BF had mis-read the departure time of the train (D-uh!!). The worst part was that we were late to the station by mere minutes. The train was departing as we entered the station…..had we reached a few minutes earlier, we could have happily occupied our AC 2-tier confirmed seats ! Alas, we walked out, lost in our thoughts. I wondered again, how little I knew of this man whom I married after 8 years of ‘getting to know him’. Clearly, I was lacking in my efforts .

He, on the other hand, wondered if we could get a bus back to Pune at the earliest, since the next flight was next day evening.  So thats how we returned. By bus, over the bumpiest stretch of road I’ve ever been on, sitting towards the rear and then, realizing as we headed towards Pune , that it was still winter back home!! In our Sun, Sand and Goa stupor, we had packed the jackets and sweaters in the suitcases which now rested on the bus’ roof.

We reached home at 5 AM, frozen, tired  and bronzed. The last thought I had as I crashed out, was that I wasn’t honeymooning with this man again, unless of course, I plan the entire agenda myself and then took the reigns to execute it too.

Its been nearly 6 years since.

We haven’t honeymooned again

So folks, this is my tale. Care to share your’s??

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Mom,Flu,Phone,Puncture,Project,Illness,Ramzan,Eid!!

Hi there, yes you, who are reading me right now. Thanks for dropping by, even  though I haven’t been keeping up my promise of posting regularly

The reason for my absence are the reasons above in the title. Some have had a larger impact than the others. Like the fact that when Mom was here and I decided to spend the weekends with her at her place, for the three weeks of her stay, the first weekend, Shobby was ill. The second weekend Lui was down. The third weekend it was my turn. Thats 6 days of constructive time lost when I met my mother after an entire years plus two months!! How can one ever recover that time?? We didst get a chance to sit and chat. We couldn’t go out anywhere together and my long-term promise to Mom about taking her out for a Marathi play was once again left at that- a blank promise which Mom is sure , will never get fulfilled .

The Flu was the worst, because it took a serious toll on the kids and me. Even though I’m out of the fever phase, I’ve been coughing for nearly 2 months straight!  This week, I threw away all the medicines and pills….they weren’t working anyway.  With the twins, it was worse, because like all kinds of illnesses, they became bed-ridden, cranky and prone to crying for long durations. We are all much better now (Alhamdulillah!)

Just when I thought I was getting back on track, I lost my cell-phone. It wasn’t a very expensive one, but it was valuable….because it was a gift from the BF, it had LOADS of pics of the twins, a million mushy messages from the BF and my innumerable contacts, my friends. It was a terrible feeling, this sense of loss and though I got back my original number back…it has been a painstaking effort to update the phonebook once again (okay now, please resist the gyan on the back-up. I know I should have done it…but I didn’t . So there!! Maybe I deserve to lose the phone for being so tardy, but please, kindly resist the temptation to rub it in ).

It seems Ramzan came by and left in a jiffy. Was it really a month already?? The fasts were tough this time. The days were longer and by 6:30 pm, even the most devout couldn’t resist peeping at the wall-clock, willing the minutes hand to move on faster . In our case, half the house-hold came down with the flu and though we coughed and hacked our way through the days, the fasts were nevertheless studiously kept. Hope the One Above has taken note of it .

Talking of Ramzan, I think there was one particular day that was tough for me. It was the time I had to rush out of office for some quick errands and when I started my bike in the office’s parking lot on the first floor, I found, to my utter horror, that I had a flat tyre. Now, I had two options – a) chuck the bike and borrow a friend’s bike for the errand, the bike could be sorted out in the evening and b) sort out the bike first and then run for the errand.

Given that by the end of the day, I would be cranky with hunger and weakness, I decided to opt for b)

Bad.Decision.

It took me a good 20 minutes to drag my bike for nearly a kilometer uphill at 12 in the noon. That was the nearest repair shop near the office. By the time I handed over the bike, the throat was parched like filter paper and I seriously prayed for rain, if not for drinking, then at least for  helping me cool off the excess heat. But no such luck was forthcoming. 40 minutes later and 500/- lesser (I had 5 punctures plus two large tears on the front wheel), I rushed to finish my work and headed back to office. Luckily, I was on bench and didn’t have to report to any manager

 And that brings us to work. Well, the clients of the previous project yanked the rug from under our feet . After sitting aloof for a week, I finally got a call for a project in our SEZ branch. Now, the reason I’m loyal to my company is that, they take cognizance of your needs. When I told them that I wouldn’t like to spend half my day traveling to and fro from work when I have little kids at home, they didn’t pester me with threats. Rather, I just had to wait it out till another project opening came up (which I currently am in). There aren’t many companies that are so considerate

The current project is a lot of work, but its also the kind of work which keeps me pepped up! It is new, interesting and even after so many years, I have scope for learning new things. Considering that I plan to retire in a few years, it brings me immense comfort to know that I can still learn (jaded horse that I am otherwise ). The better part of Ramzan was spent with learning the ropes of this project and I’m glad to say that hunger and thirst didn’t come in the way of my catching up . By the way, Ramzan is over, I’m back to binging and it feels pretty good to put in more than 100%

Eid by itself was a muted affair. We weren’t celebrating in the conventional way (no new clothes, except for the kids, no mehendi or inviting guests) because of GMIL’s demise a few months back. I had no idea we would miss the lady so much . I guess she was the driving force behind our celebrations and I’m sure that even if we had decided to celebrate, it wouldn’t have had the charm that was prevalent when she was holding the reigns . We miss her . Specially the kids

Thats all for now.  For all those who were concerned about my well-being, here’s a BIG HUG for you all. Your mails were a super sweet gesture of your concern. I love you all . I’m alive and kicking and though I have a zillion posts in my head, a non-cooperative WordPress at work and non-cooperative kids at work impair my ability to post regularly. Kindly bear with me. Once things settle down a bit, will try and be a bit more regular.

BTW, I’ve been reading you all regularly (and wondering at the wonderful styles you all have!). Pardon me for not commenting……the feature is blocked by our firewall at work and by kids at home .

But seriously, getting back to blogging feels wonderful .

Love,

 

 

 

 





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The Bitter Truth

I remember posting a few months back about my weight gain issues and my lack of initiative to lose any of it.
I also remember asking people to remind me about the work-outs I had planned (really?!!)
Barring a few, no one bothered to
Last week I posted a few pics from the cookery competition I was a part of. People commented that I looked rather slim for a mother of twins. Aaah!! But that was only half the truth. What many people DID NOT realize was that the snaps were cleverly clipped at the point where they showed the entire me !
Brilliant work, that. Especially since it came from a person who has never touched Photoshop!
B-U-T.
How long can one deceive? How far do untruths go? We all gotta wake up and smell the coffee, right?
So, was it any real surprise when I visited a pathology lab last week for a medical check-up (for my LIC policy) and found to my horror that I have *hold your breath* breached the 70 Kgs barrier
But, here comes the REAL shocker!
I breached it by FIVE kgs!
So, forget my laments about hovering just above the 70kgs mark on the weighing scale. I, shamefully, stand at a mammoth 75kgs for a 157cm frame.
*hanging head*
I know, I know….no punishment is enough! I think I’ve become a nut. The one with the hard shell, of course. The kind of shell that doesn’t pierce easily
So no laments from mother, no tender hints from the BF, no straight-faced truths from the twins nor the ever-changing measurements at the tailor’s have been instrumental in making me come to terms with the weight gain!!
Once more, I blatantly confess to my procrastination, my hopes of starting work-outs from ‘tomorrow’ and my resolve to give up on fried food and sweets asap.
Lies. All lies.
*Sigh*
Tell me, is there a cure for the mind?? I’m sure my body follows my mind. And my mind is rather weak right now. I can’t stick to a diet, I can’t follow a work-out routine, I’m lazy, hopeless and now, irrevocably FAT.
*plus, I love soaking in misery*
Can someone pull me out of this pool of pity??





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Struggling With Separation

No,don’t get me wrong…. this post isn’t about the BF and me

We are practically conjoined twins ourselves

I have lamented enough about my reluctance to keep distance from the twins. There are times when I crib that the BF and me don’t have our personal space. Its true, but it is also mostly my doing.
Last month, the MIL went to stay overnight at the SIL’s place, taking the twins along with her. I’m ashamed to say, I was a nervous wreck that evening . Not having the twins near me after I came back from work, was a jolt in itself. As the hours passed, I realized that I was calling up the MIL every hour to check up on the kids. At one time, the SIL took over the phone and gently assured me that the kids were fine and were playing with her sons.
I spent the rest of the night moping. Cried buckets into my pillow and swore never to let the twins away from me , EVER!!! It was the first time in 3.5 years that the twins weren’t with me in the night
Around 3 AM, I was too exhausted to cry anymore and went off to sleep!
Frankly, I was heartbroken.
Never knew that I’d be so weak….and here I was , always under the impression that I’m a tough cookie and a go-getter who started working just as the twins completed 5 months!! But then…..the reasons for my starting work were entirely different than they are now

Anyhow, so after that one instance, I realized that I cant be snuggling up with the kids forever. It was time to start letting go, albeit gently.
Last Sunday was my cousin’s engagement. We had to travel to a town roughly 6-7 hours from the city. Given the long distance travel by bus, I thought it prudent to leave the kids behind. Moreover, I received a call from my uncle to bring our bottled water as that particular area had reported cases of Hepatitis patients. That kind of sealed my decision to leave the kids behind. Later, I found that there were others who had brought their children with them. I felt bad that I hadn’t . In fact, I was hoping that if the BF accompanied me, we could have managed the kids between us. Though the MIL is keen to share the responsibility of the kids, the twins don’t pay her much attention, specially when we are out. Also, the MIL was as eager to attend the engagement as I was .
The BF tried his best to convince me that he would take care of the kids. I wasn’t buying any of it. Just that morning, when I told him to supervise the kid’s bath, he happily went and told the twins, “Yaay….today is Saturday……Aaj nahane ki chhutti!!!” Kids and father, all yelled in delight
So yeah, he wasn’t very successful in his eager plea for trust! To think of leaving him alone with the kids game me a chill in my spine. The MIL must have felt something similar, because she promptly called the nanny to spend a day at our house (we had dispensed of her services since the twins started their day-care)

I woke early on Sunday morning, 5 AM. We were to leave by 6 AM . We left the house by 5:50 to reach my uncle’s place which was close by. It took us another hour from my uncle’s place to finally commence on our journey.
That one hour was one of the most fretful of my life I know that Shobs gets up early and demands his milk. I also know that the BF sleeps like, well…any working man on a weekend.
I called him 4-5 times in the next one hour, he didn’t pick the call. Was probably asleep. But I was frantic…..all my thoughts focused on poor Shobs who would be deprived of his milk. MIL reassured me that since the FIL was home, he would be awake and would look after Shobby till the time BF woke up. That was some consolation, but not all.

Once we were out of the network range, I just clutched my phone and fretted over whether the kids were awake or not, whether they had their milk or not, whether the BF gave then breakfast or not…..you get the drift. The MIL tried cheering me up a couple of time but I just wasn’t in the mood.

Though I got dressed and attended the function, I realized later that I was just sitting in one corner throughout. I got up just once to congratulate my cousin brother and his would-be-bride and then slithered back onto my chair. You won’t find any snaps of me in that event.
The only bright spark in my otherwise solemn day was that I got to meet my parents . Mom and Dad had come to the town for the engagement and were going to come back to Pune with us. I was seeing Mom after one whole year!!!
Post lunch, we spent some time idling about while the families sorted out the nitty-gritties of wedding preparations. I called the BF once more, ready to blast him if he picked the call (he hadn’t picked the phone since morning and I was truly ticked off). Clever man that he is, he handed the phone to the kids. My babies!! They were so wonderfully mature when they said that they weren’t troubling their father and had their food on time . That was all the reassurance I needed.
We were a tad delayed because of the rains and it was after 1 AM when we finally reached home. I saw the twins sleeping peacefully with their dad on the double bed. It was a beautiful sight. But I broke down once more ! I’m still not sure why I sobbed as I saw them sleeping peacefully
Was it because they spent an entire wakeful day without me?
Was it because they didn’t really miss me much?
Was it because the twins learned to stay away from me much sooner than I anticipated?
Was it because I was riding high on the guilt trip of leaving them behind?
Was it because I was plain exhausted after a longer-than-bargained-for drive back to Pune??
Whatever the case, I was out in seconds after my head hit the pillow.

When I woke up the next morning, the twins were delighted to see me, but they didn’t ask me where I was the previous day . Its almost as if they didn’t miss my presence at all (major morale depressor, that!)
For the major part of this week, I’ve been pondering over my reaction and the twin’s. On hindsight, I feel that leaving the kids behind with their father wasn’t a catastrophe begging to occur as I had expected. Its okay if the children don’t take a bath one day or just eat maggi/chips/fruits throughout the day. The kids were fine, their father was fine and the only one who missed out on the fun, was me

Frankly, there is no concrete plot to this post. I’m just grumpy that the kids have weaned away from me and I’m still holding on to their teethers and sippy-cups
Time to let go a wee bit, isn’t it?!





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The Mundane Month Of June

Of ALL the months in a year, I guess I’m least inclined towards the month of June! For as far as I can remember, June is the month when -
* Vacations get over and school starts *groan*
* We move to a new classroom (usually a dump after the seniors vacate it), make new friends and start getting used to new teachers.
* It starts raining.
* People normally fall ill.
* There are no occasions to bunk the routine. No festivals, weddings or celebrations.
* There is very little fish

Needless to say, most of my grumbles rise from school perspective. Continuing on the second point – Dad’s transfers ensured we entered a new school every 2-3 years. I was apprehensive about the first day at school even when I joined a new one when in 12th! And we know how that went!!

Earlier, this sinking feeling was mine alone, but lately,I think I harbor the same sentiment for my kids! Right now, the kids aren’t complaining about the new classroom or new teacher or new friends, or the rain or the fish for that matter!!! But they’re my kids! So I expect them to be expert cribbers in a couple of year’s time
They have the liberty to enjoy themselves!! They aren’t the ones who have to cover a zillion books in brown paper and label them . And just when I send those books to school, their teacher sends a note that the books aren’t covered in transparent plastic !!
For Gosh’s sake!! They’re covered!! Isn’t that enough?? The books will only leave the school when the kids move to the next grade, sometime next year. What on earth do they want the plastics for?!!
*grumble grumble*
Anyhow, back to June.
I’ve never liked this month much. More so lately. It is supposed to rain. I like the rain. What I don’t like is the waiting one has to do for it! Every day, the skies are overcast, the day is gloomy and hot and we have no rain. Each time we look up, it seems as though it would rain, but it doesn’t. The only water-fall that occurs, erupts from a million pores in the form of sweat. Most people become walking water-fountains
In my bike’s dicky (who ever coined this term, pray tell me ) I carry a jacket (for short rainy spells) and a raincoat for longer rainy spells. But since the sun still blazes in all its glory, I need to carry a scarf, gloves and glares. In short, my dicky (eeks!! I need to find a new name for it ASAP!!) is stuffed to the brim with rain essentials, so my purse now dangles on the bike handles and the helmet rests on the foot-rest (Oops!! Sorry Bro. I do wear it , I swear, right before entering the office gates and just before exiting them !!! )

The only plus point till now is that there is a constant breeze all around. So even if we have a power cut or the sun is blazing down, there’s a nice cool breeze blowing away to cool those frayed nerves. Now, I like the breeze….but not when it turns into one of those whooshing gusts which whip your clothes off the clotheline to deposit it nicely in the middle of the road (reachable) or at the roof edge of a nearby building (unreachable). “Why not put a clothes-pin, then?”, you wonder to yourself as you read this part. And I would say, “I’d LOVE to, if only the Terrible-Two hadn’t already demolished a few and thrown away the rest ” !! A clothespin is the LAST thing you would find intact in the MomOfRS household.
*Sigh*
I hate this month. I seriously do.

The reason this rant came up is that we had a team lunch yesterday (So??!!)
Well, we went to this reputed Sea-Food restaurant near my office. It usually has some awesome, fresh sea-food. But yesterday was an unlucky day for me, I guess. The fish we ordered didn’t smell very good . Clearly, the specimen was either dead before being picked out from the waters or was definitely waaaaaay past its prime. There’s a reason we are advised against eating fish in the months that don’t have an ‘r’ in them .
I know, I know! July and August don’t have an ‘r’ in them either!
But they have RAIN!!!!
June, I hate you so much!!!
*Sob*
*Sniff* Sorry folks….I haven’t been myself lately. Its all this stress over the uncovered books (two weeks past their submission dates), the production deployment at work (this weekend) and the cookery competition finals (Today)!!
So wish me luck to get through the day!

BTW, the post on the first round is due. Will do it once we get through today. I’ll club the items and recipes of both the rounds in the same post. Along with the pictures. Of course
Till then you all, be Good





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Labour Pains

A pregnant woman kept her appointment with her doctor.

It being her first time, she was full of worry and questions. The doctor tried his best to answer the woman’s queries. But she kept coming back to that one important question, “How much does it hurt?”

The doctor tried his best to explain that the pain varied from woman to woman and each woman handled it in her own way. The patient wasn’t convinced. She insisted on knowing how much it would hurt her.

“Not much. Do one thing, just pull at your upper lip, like this”.

“This much?”

“No, just tug at it a little more”.

“Thiss maach??”

“Some more. Hold the lip tight as you pull”.

“Uh huh”.

“Does that hurt?”

“Pretty much”.

“Now pull it all the way over your head”.

———————————————————–

(Now, now girls! Please don’t kill me for this )

AB, SK, BFC and SC, I wish you ALL the best. Pain or no pain , you’ll do just fine

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