Going Green………

I’m taking a keen interest in green leafy things lately.

I guess my little money-plant has a lot to do with my change of mind

It now has 12 leaves and has finally breached the cubicle wall .

Scaling heights

This, and also GMILs plants which I managed to keep alive in her absence have made me a mite confident of raising a few plants on my own

When I visited B’lore a couple of weeks back, I was shocked to see how high the Frangipani trees had grown, and how absolutely enormous the lily plant had become. All the plants were a healthy shade of green and sprouting new leaves. Mom says it doesn’t take much effort. She just spends some time digging around and watering the plants. The fertilizers are nothing but used tea leaves or potato/onion peels. I asked her if there are earth-worms in her pot, she just shrugged and said, “maybe!”

Since I’m not putting my hands where there are cold slimy things roaming about, I guess I need another workaround to bring up the greens .

Today, we have a sapling distribution drive at work. We’ll be given saplings only if we are sure we can bring them up properly. As expected, I’m totally apprehensive. Looking after existing plants with firm roots is one thing. But bringing up a fledgeling of a plant is a new ball game altogether. I have a bad history with plants, yet a part of me wants to go ahead and join that line of people extending their hands for one. But another part of me keeps on reminding me about the dead pots of yore

What do I do??

I too dream of having a house full of greens like mum does. In her limited space, she is managing  a thriving garden. I have so much space at home. D’ya think I should take the plunge and bring a plant home?!

Here’s a look at what mom’s plants look like . All the plants, bushes and trees you see here are planted by her. She’s been tending to them for years and the results show.They are my inspiration, if not anything else ;)  -

On her balcony. That is Shobs coming in the way.

Left of the gate.Thats a lily plant. It flowers sometimes

Right of the gate.The Frangipanis.

Inside the gate

On the boundary wall.Assorted collection.

I guess I’ll just take the leap and get that sapling. Wish me People. Or pray for the plant. This will be one scary journey

(Somehow, I’m more petrified of raising plants than raising babies. I used to think babies were tougher!! But I think its worse with plants. You just don’t know how they feel   )





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O(b/s)ama and Me

I could write a funny little couplet with the three characters , Obama, Osama and me, but I won’t. Because though funny thoughts do creep up my mind, what I’m posting today is far from it. I’ll be writing about Osama and how he changed my life. I’ll mention Obama, who must have have faced a percentage of what I did. I’ll talk about me and the ones close to me. I’ll talk of all the agony and pain we went through. The humiliation, the anger the confusion. I’ll talk of all the things that went wrong because of Osama and why his death does not bring any relief or respite.

But first, something about Obama. Its close to election time and since the Prez didn’t have much to count on for a second term, does the timing of this operation sound suspicious to you?? It does to me at least. So there was Osama, not hiding under a rock or a bunker, but living lavishly in a large bungalow with his family. So, wasn’t the US aware of his hide-out until now?? I, for one, am not impressed at the way the operation was carried out, even if Obama was hunkering over the screens, watching with baited breath as the Navy seals went about their task.

So the big Terrorist- chap was gunned down in his house. Great.

He was done in in the presence of his family. I wouldn’t really say ‘Great’, but I guess the family saw it coming one day or the other.

Since we are not typical television watchers AND we didn’t get any papers yesterday (because of labour day), it was pretty late in the evening when we saw the news and were stunned into silence.Initially, I was rather skeptical of the whole act. The US claimed they shot him and dumped his body in the sea. Really?? I don’t believe you, I said. I refused to accept the news until finally, sometime later that night,they showed his dead body. It did look like the same fellow,I admit, specially the mouth part. With a head riddled with bullets, it was difficult to be 100% sure. But the world was sure and slowly, I too accepted that this guy was no more. Till late in the night, the family was discussing the consequences and repercussions of this death.

Wonder why??

Because as a middle-class muslim family, we’ve had our share of abuse because of him.

Remember 9/11??

I was doing my post-graduation at that time, didn’t have a TV or a radio at home. When I reached college, I heard a lot of animated conversation around. Conversation, that would suddenly stop in its tracks when someone spotted me. Gradually, someone came up to me and asked me if I knew what had happened that day? I remember joking about some lecturer not turning up for class. Alas, the truth, when told, was more horrific. Because, though I was informed about the ghastly deed, it was with a lot of raised eye-brows and hidden questions. ‘Did you know about it? How do you feel now that your people have done such a horrific thing’?

Good friends stuck by me, not bringing up the issue in front of me, unless I did so myself. I could feel their reluctance to talk about in my presence. For the life of me, I could not understand why they thought talking bad about the taliban would hurt me!! I have NOTHING to do with them, I could have yelled and it would still have fallen on deaf ears.

My brother had a traditional day in his office that day. He wore a Pathani to work. The minute he entered the office, the first thing he heard was a colleague shouting across the workhall, “Kya ______, yeh kya kiya tune??” Brother was obviously confused, until colleagues came up and demanded explanations about why he blew up those towers. Can anyone imagine the humiliation, the consternation of being accused of such a heinous crime publicly?? Something which he had NO hand in whatsoever?

It was the same for years after. No PG accommodation/hostel was ready to take me in after learning of my surname. I walked from one place to another, saw that there was vacancy and yet, the owners would claim that the place was taken. It came to a point when the first thing I did after ringing the bell was to let the owners know that I was a muslim and if they were okay with keeping me as a paying guest. Should I be surprised that ALL of them bluntly told me that they don’t keep muslims. The only time I got a place was when a girl living in one house turned out to be an old friend from Dehra-Dun days. Even then, she didn’t tell the owner aunty that I was a muslim. It was only on the day that I entered the house that she found out the truth. She didn’t like it one bit, but it was too late to back out. Thankfully, the one year that I stayed with her, she encountered no issues with me and we got along rather well.

In all this, would it have mattered to anyone if I told them that my father was a war-decorated army officer? That he spent 35 years of his service for his country, a country that is as much mine as it is yours? That patriotism runs in our blood as much as it runs in yours!!

You know what irks me the most? That no other religion bears the brunt of activities of some of its outcasts!

So a bunch of Sikhs can blow up a Kanishka, but no one will point a finger at a Sardar and insinuate that he’s a terrorist or a persona non-grata. Christian terrorists can blow up sections of the North-east in India or hundreds in Cuba, but no one will ever dare to term Christianity as a terrorist-religion. Hindu fanatics will go around burning people alive, but Hindus will always be the ones terrorized . Its only when a muslim terrorist blows up a place and the entire populace is quick to term ALL muslims as violent. ALL muslims are terrorists. ALL muslims should be avoided, boycotted. Like the time the BF was in USA and was refused accommodation because of his religion. Yes, even he was directly told by the owners that they didn’t rent space to muslims. Whom did the BF finally put up with?? Other muslim students who were similarly shunned. The irony is that the BF was on H1 visa to US with his colleague and good friend, who was a hindu. His friend got a place easily, the BF didn’t. I think, if you are NOT a minority, this kind of humiliation would be difficult for you to fathom.

(Please note, I’m NOT pointing fingers at anyone here. I’m just puzzled at the way the wave caught up about equalizing muslims with terrorists. It has come to such an extent that it is actually fashionable to talk of the two in the same breath!!)

This is something we go through each day. Try hunting for a house in a good society…..sorry, No muslims. Try getting admissions to a good college…..sorry , no muslims. Try even schools ……and you have a fledgling of a chance of getting a seat. And even then, you’ll be made to feel gratitude, because, you see, the management doesn’t generally allow muslims, but they’ll make a concession for you . For a hefty amount, of course!

Now that Osama lies buried somewhere in the Arabian sea (probably eaten up by the fishes by now), a normal middle-class muslin can think of breathing easy, for a while. But somewhere, there will also be a niggling thought eating at us that this may just as well be the beginning of the end. Things may just get worse from here. We may rejoice his death, but there are many more like him around for comfort. And the stigma that lies buried in everyone’s mind will never go, Osama or no Osama.

But I guess this is just the pessimist in me speaking. I would LOVE to be proved wrong. I would love to see my kids holding their heads high when they walk into prestigious schools, places where they get admission on their merit and not religious inclination. I would LOVE to live in a society where the neighbors don’t call their kids back home just because they entered our house.  I would LOVE it if my kids came back from school and talk about their achievements rather than wonder why their teacher called them some bigoted names. I would LOVE to see my kids mingling with other children, understanding about their culture and religion and not wonder why no one’s bothered about their’s. I would LOVE to have the freedom to be treated as an equal citizen of this country, a place I was born and brought up in. A place I love just as much as you if not more. A place, I hope my kids get a chance of knowing and loving as much I do.

So tell me people, am I asking for too much??





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I don’t want Einstiens…….

…………….or Picasso’s for that matter. Neither do I look for a Shakespeare or an Edison.

I’m not sure what I want. But I guess I’m pretty clear on what I do NOT.

I do NOT want my kids to start on their PhD thesis when they are yet to come out of their diapers.

I do NOT want to prophecy what my kids will become when they grow older.

I do NOT want to start planning strategies for their career paths.

I do NOT want to initiate cultivating their hidden talents.

I do NOT want geniuses.

I want my babies to be babies till the time they are old enough to group with other babies in places called as play groups.

I want them to retain their innocence (and NOT ignorance. There’s a difference) till is is impossible to stay so.

I want to extract the maximum of this time which is fast receding. There is too much information around, too much exposure, too many influences. Its a matter of time before they start questioning everything we say or do. The era of blind faith is obsolete. And I want to hold on to the last vestiges of that faith as long as I can , before I have to face the ocean of unanswered questions.

Am I an ostrich?

Maybe.

I’m hiding under the sand, hoping that the impeding change will never come. But it has to. I know that. At some levels, I’m okay with it. Resigned to my fate, is more like it. The sands of time will blow my way and I have no option but to go where it goes.

But.

I’m not in favour of pushing my kids in that direction. At least, not now.

So the twins, at 2 years and 3 months don’t know their alphabet yet.

They can’t count from 1 to 10. Heck, they can’t count. Period.

They don’t know any rhymes or care for songs.

The MIL heard a neighbours child reciting nursery rhymes and was appalled that our kids didn’t even know Twinkle-Twinkle Little Star (its a different matter that both my kids beg me to stop as soon as I start reciting the poem!). Another relative’s kid can sing songs and dance. Good for them, I say.

I’m glad that kids these days are picking up knowledge so fast. And in this fast paced world, it doesn’t worry me that my kids lag way behind other children. No, I’m not worried at all. So my kids don’t know the alphabet, but they can tell a tiger from a Hippo. My kids don’t recite rhymes, but they prefer Animal Planet to Cartoons (they hate cartoons. Go figure!!). They can’t count, but they know when its time to feed their Big-dadi her medicines.

They do a hundred new things everyday and I marvel at their intelligence which is their own. I’m yet to ‘teach’ them anything. What they know now is of their own merit. Little Shobs knows each thing has to be put back in its place once its work is done. Lui is deft with her fingers, capable of closing bottle lids or taps, untying knots, clipping her hair-pin or peeling garlic! The twins know how to read our mood and behave accordingly. They know that the way to their father’s heart is different from the way to their mother’s.  They know how to avoid the BIL when they have done something naughty and how to twist their mother and dadi around their little pinkies. The only dance they can do is hop around shouting “Balle Balle” and that too, when the mood strikes them, which is mostly when any news report is playing on the tube (they don’t react to songs, which makes me think they are not so much musically inclined after all ).

I know the kids are clever and sharp. They have to see us doing something once and are quick to pick it up. Maybe that’s why I’m not so worried about their academic delay. Studies will come. It is unavoidable. And I know that I’m going to be rather strict when it comes to their grades. I’m no Amy Chua, but I take education seriously because I can see the vast difference it makes to one’s life. I know I will compel my kids to do better, but only when I know they can take up that challenge. Right now, in my eyes, the twins are still too young to take up any challenge other than the ones related to potty training or brushing their teeth. These are hurdles in themselves. The kids know it. Sometimes, when they are able to control themselves till the time they reach the loo, they are praised. When they don’t, we talk to them sternly about it and ask if they know where they should pee and where they shouldn’t! The twins are battling these small (for us) obstacles everyday. It takes effort on their part and for that I’m grateful. Because they put in that effort. Because they know they have to try.

I don’t really look forward to immense fame and fortune for my children. Both are spoilers (adults get spoilt too!!). I want them to develop capability. To learn how to earn, to nurture their knowledge, to respect other’s. I know that if they have any talent, all I have to do is be open about developing it. If they have it, they will make it. I can provide the means, I cannot provide the drive. The only thing I might pester them for , is good education, because that opens a lot of doors for other choices in life. I really don’t know what will come tomorrow. I do not know what kind of challenges the kids will face, what kind of peer-pressure, what kind of environment. Some of their battles will be their own and I can only be a silent spectator on the side, directing my best wishes (and prayers) their way.

A lot of my sentiments arise from the fact that my parents today rue that they didn’t let me pursue my dreams. I don’t blame them at all. They come from a generation which believed that the only way to the top was to be a doctor or an engineer. There was hardly any exposure to the finer arts or alternative careers. There was a time when I was into designing dresses and hand-stiching them for my dolls. I was all of 11 years old. But I had ideas. Loads of them. I would make gowns, hats and even feather boas with real down. I had a huge box full of stuff such as cloth pieces, buttons, needles, beads. Those days, we didn’t have any internet. We didn’t even have cable television (it came some time later). My ideas were my own. The parents saw the talent for what it was, but were reluctant to let me continue in the same field. One other reason could be that the exorbitant fees and hostel charges of designing schools were beyond their budget. Dad was already supporting a large extended family plus his own on his meagre Army salary. I think, the margin to satisfy my skill just didn’t exist. All they could think of, was to make their children doctors or engineers.

Sadly,none of us became any of the two. But all of us did well in our chosen careers. Now when I look back and see my parents upset over how work and homely responsibilities leave me with very little time to pursue my dreams, I feel bad. I feel bad for them, because they did the best they could, which is far more than what most parents do for their children (and daughters in particular). I know that they have given me something more, the ability to pursue my dreams without being dependent on anyone. If tomorrow I want to start a business and create my own line, I can earn and save for it today. I don’t have to ask the BF or anyone else to chip in for me. If I still have the drive, I’ll make it work. If I don’t, I still have my ability to earn through my current means. It is difficult for me to explain this to the parents. They wallow in guilt in spite of me doing well. Because they know, this line was never my first choice. I don’t want my kids to grow up and feel the same about me as I do about my parents.

Lately, Lui’s been going around the house saying, “Mai doctor hai”. Everyone fawns over her and claims loudly that she will indeed be a doctor. But I don’t see it that way. I smile indulgently because I know she doesn’t yet know what a doctor means. Whether her interests lies in that direction, I wouldn’t know now. So I resist from predicting. I guess it helps me to keep a broader perspective on what she might eventually gravitate towards. It is not my path I have to focus on. Its her’s. And the same applies for Shobs too.

I’m not blind to the fiercely competitive environment today. People having kids as old as the twins are running across the city, filling forms for play groups or nursery. Some of the kids are younger than the twins. I confess to doing the rounds myself. Some schools sold themselves by saying that they teach the toddlers the alphabets and how to write. I gasped in shock, where as they took it as a sign of my amazement. I was appalled that they made two-year old kids hold a pencil and write the letters. WHY?!! Why not let them do all that when they join a proper school with formal education. If I teach them to write now, what will they learn when they are in nursery or KG? This craze of teaching children stuff from one or two classes above does not bode well with me. Why can’t we stick to letting them be kids at least till they are in Play-group. Isn’t that what the word play-group means?!!

This post turned out to be longer than I had anticipated . It’s just that I’m tired of answering a hundred questions on why I haven’t already admitted my children to a school yet. Sometimes, I humour them by saying that I never want to let the kids stray away from the home and hearth (here I strongly wish we had the system of home schooling as in the USA). Sometimes, I just feel like giving them the finger!!

Frankly, I just want my kids to be the kids they are. I’m not looking for the greatness that may or may not be in them. If it exists, it won’t stay hidden. If not, I still love my babies and will make sure they get a decent education. Maybe, when they are old enough to read and understand and visit these pages, they might realize that I haven’t strayed much from what I’ve put down here. That I’ve done the best I can for them and that all I want from them is to say that they love me 

What else does a mamma want anyway?

On that note, to all the women (and specially those with kids)  reading this, Happy Women’s Day





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Of Work, Worries, Woes and Wishes!

I started writing this post yesterday. Instead of Wordless Wednesday, I wanted to write about “W”s of the other kind (seeing that I’m flooded with them this season ) . There’s so much happening around me and so much that I’m into right now, that I’m losing track of everything miserably (total failure there !)

Anyhow, let’s have a look at a few of them :-

I] Work

I like my work. Which doesn’t really translate into me liking my job. The work is related to the domain, there is knowledge involved, a lot of learning and sometimes, even a little bit of un-learning. The job is related to where I work, whom I work for.

The last few days have been hectic. I’ve ranted about it enough. There is a lot of unplanned activity taking place (along with the planned one) and there are bound to be goof-ups. I made one such goof-up. And was strong enough to admit it. But what irked me to no end was that the other people involved (read, the seniors) backed out totally. They were happy that I was taking the blame and simply distanced themselves from the issue. SO NOT DONE!!!

I can rave and rant about how the clients treated me like a puppet and swung me from one field of action to another to such an extent that at one point of time, I had no idea what I was doing! But its of no use now. The damage is done. I’m guilty, and ready to take the flak for my mistakes. But, I refuse to take the blame for everyone!! Specially, when the fault left their hands and came to mine. I wasn’t the ONLY one involved, for God’s sake!!

Anyhow, along with this issue, there is another small one of working at a client side. I’ve made some really good friends and if there will be any regret on leaving this place, it would be that I wouldn’t be able to spend time with my friends here. But the larger issue is that my case is one of dhobi ka kutta. The one that belongs neither to the ghar nor the ghat . I cannot take part in any activities related to my company and I’m a forever outsider at the client side.

Take a small instance. The last quarter was profitable for the department. All employees were gifted with gift cheques for their efforts. Except us contract employees. It did make me rue the fact that I had put in as much effort and time as the rest, but I’m not eligible for the recognition or remuneration. My company would at most get a feedback mail and it may/may not affect the appraisals. Thats it.

The indignity of it all makes me want to quit real bad and get back to someplace where I’m not treated like a second-class citizen!! And to clear the record, it is NOT about the gift. It is about being accepted as a member of the team who contributed as much as the others, if not more. To be left out blatantly like this hurts bad

I guess I really MUST focus on a job change soon. If only, to retain my sanity and keep my fury in check!

II] Worries

The twins are 2-years-plus. We’ve started hunting for schools/play-groups around the house, but haven’t found one to our liking. The hunt is still on. At times, I’m not very sure I’m ready to let the kids ot…its a jungle out there after all .And oh!! Tell me, is it true that the starting rate for play-group admissions start at 30,000/- ?? Per child??

I’m rather flummoxed by the prospectus spread across my bed. Me and the BF have been trying to figure out what exactly is the pricing all about. We don’t mind shelling out the dough, but it just doesn’t seem justified. It’s a play-group , for Gosh’s sake!! Not a PhD thesis training (which surprisingly, costs far less) .

Anyhow, there are a few things plaguing my mind before I send the twins to school.

1) They refuse to part with their bottles.

2) Toilet training.

Now both the issues are immensely worrying. The twins refuse to drink milk out of cups/glasses. They would rather go without it than to drink from a cup. Moreover, now that I’ve brought down their nightly feeds, they crave a bottle as soon as they get up. If I don’t give them their milk, they’ll howl and be miserable throughout the day!! We’ve tried hiding the bottles, making up stories of the fairy coming and taking it away and all such tricks. Nothing works. We only have to deal with mammoth tantrums multiplied by two!!

I know its high time since they quit the bottle. Most kids learn to live without it. But my kids were surviving on bottle feed since the time they were born (don’t ask why!! There’s a long painful back-story that I don’t want to get into now). Suffice to say, they don’t know any other way or are reluctant to let go of the bottle. Suggestions to help them quit would be most appreciated .

What am I saying?!

I’ll fall at your feet and thank you if your tip works . So help me please !!

About the toilet training……phew!! Everyone at home is trying their best. But I guess the weather is just not conducive to our plans . The twins balk at the idea of stepping into a cold bathroom. They’d rather pee in their pants than get out of it and walk to the loo

Can’t blame them…..but seeing that admission time is around the corner, its high time they learnt to use the loo. Hell, I’ll be immensely grateful to the almighty is they at least inform us before taking a leak!!  Right now, they first do their job and then come up and say that they’ve done it!!

Where did we go wrong !!

III] Woes

I drive a two-wheeler to office everyday. Seeing that I use the highway, the in-laws (AND parents ) insisted that I use a helmet. It was a reasonable demand and I bought one. Problem is, since the time I’ve started using it, I’ve seen a drastic increase in hair-fall. Given that I already have very scanty tresses, this is a distressing sign indeed

I’m not really sure if the hair-fall is the helmet’s fault or because of the recent mind-numbing work in office.But I’m losing hair fast and I need a cure asap.

Any ideas, people??

Another thing that’s driving me crazy these days – cracked heels.

Go on, laugh at me. But it isn’t funny when I drag my feet across the bed-sheet and half the threads are caught between the cracks! There’s also this funny ‘charrrrrrr’ sound that totally grates on the nerves!!

And you know the worst part??

Due to some cosmic interference, only women are subjected to the pains of winter heels. The men are blissfully unscathed!! Hell, the BF’s heels look as round and smooth as a baby’s bottom! So unfair, I tell you!!! Wonder why we women are cursed with all these woes!! I agree winter’s here, but why is it only me who needs to apply the  moisturizers, lip-balms and foot creams?? The BF is sinfully untouched by winter, almost as if he has an invisible shield around him!!

Hmmpff!!

I guess I’m done for now.

Feels a little good to vent it all out at one go

And if you’re reading this , I thank you for spending time with me, lending me a patience hearing (err….reading ) .

I’ll be away for a long weekend….not sure if I’ll be able to post until next Tuesday. But I think I might make some time for an Anniversary post!

Yep. Me and the BF complete 4 years of marital bliss and 12 years of being the best of friends tomorrow !!

(This is where the Wishes part comes in   . C’mon, send them across !!)

What else could I possibly ask for ?!!

(Except maybe a few tips on the kid’s bottle-weaning and toilet training)

(And also, maybe pointers to good references for a new job).

Till then, Ciao





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Mixed Emotions

I guess it started last night when me and the BF had one of our squabbles and went to sleep without making up.

I had to leave early for work today because there was a lot that needed to be done before the weekend.

I had a lunch appointment with a cousin sister whom I had last seen 12 years back.

One of my team mates did not turn up for work.

Our application behaved erratically and caused more delay.

I’m still hungry because the lunch was not good.

Was away from office for nearly 3 hours…..need to stay back and cover up for the lost time.

I forgot my cellphone at home.

I haven’t spoken civilly to the BF the whole day.

Met Aapa and Baby Simu at lunch.

Saw younger cousin brother M on the way to meet cousin sister.

One of my plants in office is not doing well.

Tomorrow is the last day of investment submissions and I come to know of it now!!

Got two days’ leave approved for the Christmas weekend.

Have a half-day tomorrow for quarterly team party.

———————

I really don’t know whether I’m happy or sad, irritated or stable, upset or guilt-free!!

I guess going back home to the babies will put things in perspective.

That is, IF I manage to reach home before they go off to sleep!!





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A loss, nevertheless!!

Regular readers to the blog would be aware that I suck big time at clicking snaps. I’m so bad that I can make a Metro line look like Pune Railway Station

And I’ve done worse with my kids!

Such pretty, angelic babies and I click the worst snaps ever!! Friends who’ve seen the babies howl at the pics I upload. In fact, I’ve even requested good friend Srividya (you listening, dear??) to come down to Pune, just to click the babies (and also catch up on the years past…how many did you say? Eighteen years?? Thats a LOT of catching up we gotta do there girl !! ). Sri, being the darling she always was, readily agreed and we just have to decide on a date and time .

Anyhow, the reason for this post is………its time the BF learnt to pack his own bags!!

I know, I know, things don’t make sense right now. Do give me a patient hearing, will you

The first weekend after our Delhi trip, the BF had a weekend outing with his colleagues. It was an overnight stay and I was busy packing his stuff. At the last minute, I thought of packing the camera, since he would have liked to click some snaps . I remember telling him that the camera was in the bag along with the rest of the stuff. And as usual, he just murmured something, totally oblivious to what I said!!

Anyhow, the BF returned from his trip. I was busy with two babies who were busy falling ill alternately and keeping me on my toes day and night. Thoughts of the camera totally skipped my mind. Until last week, when finally, me and the BIL hunted the house down for it. Thats when, BIL suggested that maybe the BF had misplaced it during his trip.

Thats it.

The tube light blinked bright and I reminded the BF that I had indeed packed the camera in his bag. The BF was quite shocked!! Because apparently, he expected the camera to be there and when he had reached the venue and looked in his bag he couldn’t find it. He naturally assumed that since he hadn’t told me to pack it specifically, I hadn’t (the cheek of this guy!! After all that I do for him, this is the vote of confidence I get!!).

Fact of the matter is, the camera was in the bag when he left the house.

The camera was not in the bag when he reached the venue.

So somewhere along the way, we lost it.

I’m deeply dismayed, because even though I wasn’t good at it, at least it gave me a chance to do some clicking of my kid’s activities.

The worst part is that the twins are up to so many pranks these days, just narrating them here won’t do their act justice. I wish I could capture those images, but alas , I cannot (at least until we get hold of a new camera   ) .

So dear folks, when I do mention anything about the kids, just close your eyes and imagine it yourself….I won’t be able to help you with the visual aids

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On a guilt trip……and I’m the Engine driver

One of the biggest drawbacks of being a working mother??

We are forever on a journey….the guilt trip. The never-ending lowly feeling of being an inadequate mother, always chastising ourselves to  do better!! Even though, we already put in our best. We are our worst enemy. So no reprieve for us.

All this is leading somewhere, isnt it? Yup, you guessed it.

RS and SS are down with cold. I dont generally worry about a common cold if the babies have runny noses (that indicates that the cold is on its way out!).

But RS was not really doing well. Apart from the cold, she also had an upset tummy. So she not only threw up her dinner, she cried non-stop because of the unease caused by her stomach as well as the cold. No amount of cuddling, pacifying was enough to calm her . She did sleep with her head on my shoulder and me walking back and forth around the house. But the minute I laid her down, her vocal chords would come alive.And how!!

I  spent the night nursing a sick baby till 4:30 am this morning. After which, she was too exhausted to cry.And I was too exhausted to stay awake (For people wondering what the BF was up to during this time, let me tell you, he was busy trying to make SS sleep, since the boy kept on waking up when he heard his sister wailing). I woke up late. An hour late. Had to rush to office. There was a call to attend at 9:30 AM. Obviously, I couldn’t make it. So just called office to say that I’ll be turning in late.

The twins were by then, quite their chirpy self. Running around the house and playing with their toys. I left the house before the kids could see me. As soon as I reached the parking, the BF called to say that the twins had a mild fever and where could he find the drops for it.

In that split second, my mind went into such a turmoil. What should I do? Stay back home? Goto office? Just call up and say that I wont be coming? Apply for half-day? What….???

I know that the kids are in much better hands with the GMIL. And I want to keep my leaves for when I really need it. For them. At that very moment, MIL called from her school. She wanted to ask if she should take a leave and come back home. I assured her that the fever was just because of the cold and the kids will be fine.

I know she had the same doubts/worries that now plague my mind. I know it’s just a common cold. And once they have their drops, the kids will most likely sleep through the day. That leaves me with very little to do at home. So I came to office. And am guilt ridden since.

At this particular moment, it’s so easy to think of giving up everything I have worked towards. To give up years of education. Years of experience. Knowledge. Expertise.Everything. Just to be with them.

I know that if I quit right now, years down the line, I will regret the decision.

But what about the regret I live with every minute. Right now, as I type?!

It’s not easy. Really. This motherhood thing.

I shudder to think what my mom must have gone through….living alone with 4 children and dad posted in far outskirts of the country!!!

*Counting my blessings*

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Weekend drought

Each week, I take down post titles that I should write during the weekends. And each weekend passes by without me even switching on the PC, let alone logging in to WP.

Where does this time go?

2 days. 48 hrs. They pass by in such a blur of activities. Yet, there is no time for blogging. Sigh.

Remember the diary I had mentioned once? The one in which I had taken down baby updates after their birth. The one I’d planned to transfer to soft copy, for posterity. Well, I’m yet to start typing out the first entry in that diary. That is my main target for each weekend, and I’m awfully behind schedule.

I wanted to wrap it up before the kids turned one. That gives me exactly 2 weeks 2 days to do the needful.

It’s impossible.

I’ve failed even in this simple task .

Alas.

 

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Another murder in Pune….!

How does it feel when your husband’s colleague turns up as a statistic?? Well this is the case I’m talking about.

The BF was awfully shaken up after the incident. He had worked with her in his previous project. To him, she was just another married woman techie, like his wife.Which made matters worse.

I’ve been recently bugging him to let me travel to office on my bike, since the company vehicle takes up too much time. Moreover, my office is just a couple of miles before the location where the techie was kidnapped from. The BF has flatly refused.Vehemently. And I dare not contradict him. Though Pune is much safer than any other city (please read this news item) , this incident has sent shivers down my spine.

To top it all, the TOI runs the statistics for the last 2 years. Scary!!

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