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Archive for August, 2012

I had a rather interesting conversation with my cubicle mate this morning.
We were talking about astrology and somehow the topic veered towards children.
He asked me if out of my twins, the girl was the elder one. I said yes, by two minutes.
So he grinned and told me that in all the cases of love marriages (that he knows about), the first-born is always a girl.
This statement stupefied me. I thought about it and then tried to recollect all my friend who had kids. Initially, I could only think of those who had arranged marriages and had a mix of boys and girls as first-born. But as the day progressed and I thought about more friends who did have love marriages, it came as a stunning revelation that ALL of them did indeed have daughters as first-born :|.
Its a funny coincidence, that.
Frankly, the odds might be in the favor of girls, but I just want to know….do you know of anyone (yourself included) who had a love marriage and had a son as their first-born?
I just want to see if this quirk of nature is true or that I really don’t know many married couples who had love marriages πŸ™‚
So help me out…chip in with some info if you have any πŸ™‚

 

Edited to Add : When I started out this survey, I had people chipping in with their agreements and inputs on how people they knew had girls. But after a horde of comments on this post and on FB, I’ve come to the conclusion that this observation isn’t really concrete (obviously), though the percentage of girls as first- born out of  love-marriages, in India, is slightly higher than the boys. Surprisingly, by nature, more boys are born compared to girls (as first-born or otherwise) because the male survival rate is low. So after a few months/years of being born, nature equalizes the ratio.

For the record, I’m still going to follow-up on this observation because the number of people I know with daughters (nearly 10-12) tips the scale against only ONE friend I know who has a boy πŸ™‚



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Humpty Dumpty All Over Again

Something happened this afternoon that the BF simply insists I post about.

After this particular post (https://momofrs.wordpress.com/2012/08/24/the-just-married-please-excuse-contest/), he’s been a little grouchy that I brought up his less-than-chivalric “Arre pakdo” moment. Its a different matter that the grouchiness is erased every time he gets the image of me hurtling towards doom, all flailing arms and legs, with a large sling-bag and a camera around my neck and my phone in my hand. He’s been busy grinning each time a comment to that post appears on his blackberry :).

Anyhow, like I said before, he insisted that I do a post on this afternoon’s occurrence, just so that he feels vindicated of his ‘moment’.

So this is what happened.

Post lunch in the office cafeteria (on the 7th floor), I took the stairs to reach my floor (the 2nd). After practically running down nearly 4 and a half floors, I slowed down as I had a qucik flash of memory regarding the BF’s friend, who, in his hurry to rush down the stairs, slipped, fell and cracked a vertebra. The sad memory slowed me down considerably and I took a cool stroll down the last stretch. While I was on the second last step, the stairwell door opened and two guys came out. I looked up to see who they were and in that moment, forgot all about the last step, missed it, twisted my ankle and fell headlong on the landing πŸ™‚

As I gasped for breath through the horrible pain, the bitter irony of my situation struck hard and I gurgled with laughter. As I gasped in pain and still laughed, the two gents standing at the door got rather uncomfortable. They tried offering help, asking me if I could stand up and walk…I giggled that I could and they beat a hasty exit from there. It was quite some time before I finally mustered the courage to drag myself through the workhall door and to my cubicle. Funny thing is , I was still laughing when I reached my cubicle! To think that I was careful NOT to hurt myself on the stairs and did just that within seconds was vastly amusing πŸ˜€ .

I made a quick call to the BF and explained my predicament.
“I fell down the stairs”, I quipped.
“Wasn’t there anyone around to yell, ‘arre pakdo’?”, he quipped back.
“What the hell?? I fell down and hurt my ankle. Show some concern”.
“Well, first do a post and let people know that you have a tendency to fall off stairs”.
“Heh?!”
“Think about it. Will check your blog shortly”.

So here I am folks, writing out my story as the kind BF suggested. And oh, in case you are interested, I haven’t broken any bones or torn any ligaments. Luckily, I had a jar of Zandu Balm, massaging which my ankle feels alright. I can walk again (Yay!!) and there are no ugly egg-sized bumps anywhere πŸ˜€

So there BF. I fell down the stairs. I publicly confess that I’m clumsy and a klutz. D’ya feel better now?? πŸ™‚

P.S: Yes, I’m one of those people to whom stairs happen.

P.P.S : I’m also the kind of person who keeps Zandu Balm in my locker for exactly what happens in PS.

P.P.P.S : I still love the BF. No matter what 😐 . He buys me those Zandu Balm jars.



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………………….on my way to work, I crossed a stretch of road which is the hub of the city’s central grains and vegetable depot.  Succinctly put, its called Market Yard. This is where every morning, trucks come in by the dozens and dump a zillion sacks of grains and vegetables. The market opens up at an insane hour, probably 4am in the morning. By 5am, there is a hoard of little red and blue tempos which crowd to Marketyard to buy their share of the goods. These tempos/handcarts then travel to the other parts of the city to sell those goods. This activity goes on till 12 in the noon. I guess after that the depot gates close down. At the time when I pass that way, the traffic outside the depot gates is at its peak. It is a tough task for all the bikes, cars and buses to outmaneuver the tempos/handcarts, which take up nearly the entire road.

Anyhow, so this morning, as I reached the large traffic signal (which unfortunately turned red just as I reached it), I saw that there was a slight commotion. Apparently, a tempo crossing the signal had dropped a sack of guavas right in the middle of the road. The driver of the tempo (tempo1) was oblivious of his loss till he reached the other side, where a couple of bystanders told him that they saw his sack falling off. Tempo1 driver was worried. He parked his vehicle and tried crossing the road, but the peak rush hour didn’t allow him the space. Meanwhile, as second tempo’s (tempo2) driver, standing at the signal, saw the plight of tempo1, he quickly hopped out, rushed to the sack and amidst great traffic, somehow managed to drag it back to his tempo. Tempo2 driver waved frantically at driver of tempo1, trying his best to signal that the sack was safe. Driver1 couldn’t see properly through the traffic. And tried once more to cross the road. Tempo2 driver then hauls the sack into his vehicle, drives across the road to tempo1 driver and hands over the sack. Tempo1 driver’s face is flush with relief. Tempo2 driver gets back into vehicle, makes a U-turn and drives off in another direction.

All this happened in the few minutes it took for my signal to turn green, but it was an inspiring lesson on good-ness. On being helpful and kind. Tempo2 driver went out of his way to make sure that tempo1 driver’s sack was unharmed and was handed over to him. Its not everyday we see selfless acts of kindness, specially in cities where everyone is too rushed to help out others. Reminded me of an instance long time back, Bro was driving me to a college for a written test. It started raining and I was clutching at my folder of certificates, trying my best to prevent them getting wet. Somehow, at one point, the folder slipped out of my hand and fell on the road. I yelled at Bro to stop the bike, which he did, but a few meters ahead. I frantically signaled people coming my way to not drive over the folder. Many drove around it. But one particular chap, who was far off and had seen me, drove right over my folder and was nasty enough to give a smug look while doing it. I stood there, too shocked for words, but Bro’s yelling brought me back to my senses. I picked up the now squelchy folder and walked back to Bro. The certificates were now muddy and wet. The only sensible thing to do was to dry them after going home. I just prayed the college did not require us to submit any docs that day. Luckily, they didn’t.

But the point is, the incident is imprinted in my mind. No one really stopped to help me that day. One person was rude enough to cause more trouble. it was enough to make me cynical for the rest of my life!

The incident today gave me a warm feeling πŸ™‚
Kindness is not dead yet. There are still plenty of people who do their share of good deeds a day.

And all is well with the world πŸ™‚



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An Actual Conversation

This took place between the BF and a female colleague in his office. Now the female colleague, or FC for short, does not directly report to the BF. She is in one of the projects whose manager reports to the BF. But, she has a soft spot for him and strikes up conversations whenever possible.  There was even one instance when she offered all possible ‘assistance’ if he took care of her ‘routine deliverable escalations’. The BF and I had a long chat on the implications of the statement and its repercussions. I’m not sure exactly how wise I was in dissuading him from reporting the event, but the crux is that the BF had been keeping a low profile and a cold attitude towards her.

Not one to be ignored, the girl continued her habit of complementing the BF on his hairstyle, or a particular shirt he was wearing, etc.

So one day, the BF was showing some of the twin’s recent snaps to his friends. FC walks in and checks out the photos.

FC : Ohh!! Your daughter is so pretty.

BF : Thanks.

FC : But how come she is so ‘chinky’.

BF : I have no idea.

FC : Does anyone in your family have eyes like that?

BF : No. No one does.

FC : Then where did she get the eyes from.

BF : No idea.

FC : Really strange, isn’t it?

BF: Its okay. I don’t doubt my wife.

FC : 😐

When the BF narrated this incident, I almost fell off the bed laughing πŸ˜€ !!

Frankly, I feel a little bad for FC. The BF was this close to reporting her to the higher ups for stalking him, but I told him to enjoy the attention while he was getting it. Its not as if she meant any harm.

Edited to add : This post was lying in the drafts. The latest update is that the young woman is no longer in the BF’s team. He has a reason to breathe easy these days πŸ™‚



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I saw this contest on Parul’sΒ  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 πŸ™‚ . Some of the others had it far worse πŸ˜€ .Β  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 πŸ˜€ ) 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 πŸ˜› ?!!

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 πŸ™‚ !!

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 πŸ™„ .

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.Β  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]Β  — 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 wasΒ  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 πŸ™‚ .

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 theΒ  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.Β  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, tiredΒ  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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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 πŸ˜€ ).

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 πŸ™‚ . 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 πŸ˜€ .

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 πŸ™‚

 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 πŸ˜€ ). 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 πŸ™‚ . By the way, Ramzan is over, I’m back to binging and it feels pretty good to put in more than 100% πŸ™‚

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 πŸ™‚ . 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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