To dad, the writer

Every time my article has been published and I'd got to know, I'd call up dad at work. His voice said it all as to how proud he was of me. Dad is a man of few words. The one who has encouraged me in all my endeavors silently pushing me to give in my best - be it trying for a new job, freelancing, trading or now writing.
I know he reads my blog regularly now. I have never cared so much about who reads my blog or what they think of it as much as I have begun to now. He has raised the bar for me by reading my blog. I care about how I churn my articles now because there's a standard I want to meet and wouldn't want to wrote carelessly anymore.
Dad, any day, writes thousand times better than I do. He never knew he had it in him to write, until one Sunday in August, 1988 when a colleague of his approached him to write an essay on "Energy Conservation" for his daughter who was taking part in an Essay Competition in school the next day. What was strange is his daughter and I studied in the same school and shared the first two ranks amongst us every after year. So dad decided to write the essay but instead asked me to participate. If there was one thing I have been good at like all the other million school going kids in India, it was at rote learning (for the record, I don't take any pride in that and wouldn't ever want LG to pick up that). I churned out the essay word by word the and went on to win the competition. Prizes in elocution, debates and essay competitions followed for the next three years.

The proudest moment for dad came in 1991 when I went for the State Level debate on "Natural Disaster". I regret not saving those sheets of paper on which he wrote. To this day, I don't think I can ever write such a to-the-point, well researched essay on any topic with all the information I need being just a click away. The school did not sponsor beyond the district level. So dad bore the expense which was a LOT those days to take me from Gulbarga to Bangalore. I didn't win against contestants who were much older than I but the journey was an experience I will cherish forever. Every contestant had his/her school teacher on the stage changing slides for them as they spoke, for me dad was with me on the stage. I was nervous but he said I was good, which was bigger than any prize that I would've got. The stage was mine but the words and research were dad's, the encouragement and practice those of mom. Looking back, I guess I am fond of writing because of what I saw in dad, the writer who never wrote professionally. I would be more than thrilled to see him write professionally and getting published.

Life is one long running race

It has been a long time since I did one of those what-I-was-up to-in-the-weekend posts. what perhaps prompted this was a comment by V on Saturday morning. It was around 9:00 a.m. and we had just finished breakfast. As I gathered the dishes and made my way to the kitchen to get our lunch ready, LG's brunch, bathe and get dresses before leaving for the hospital, he looked at me and said, "Will you take a break?" I understood what he meant and replied, "Life is one running race now." Its not like I'm always on my toes or something. I don't do a full time job, for that matter I don't do any job at all, so I have a lot of time during the week when Lil General sleeps. Some days, sometimes a whole week can go cranky without getting anything done - no trading, no writing etc. The irony of that statement in my taking a break was to do with how similar weekdays have become with weekends.

A child changes everything. Or rather we let ourselves change, subconsciously. Everything happens by the clock revolving around their activity - juice time, Nestum time, sleep time, bathe time, nappy change time and there's always something that's not done. Gosh! he is only 8 months old now. Wonder what I would do when he starts school and starts all of those classes too - guitar, football etc.

Weekends before LG came into our lives meant chilling out. Totally. We have always been early risers, so that sphere of life hasn't changed. No shower Saturdays, salad nights, movie Sundays and so on. Nothing was planned so meticulously. I didn't maintain a to-do list on the refrigerator top or add to the grocery list as and when something got over. Life is more planned now, sometimes to the minute, to the hour. Ad-hoc moments are a thing of the past. I can no longer afford to open the fridge and say, "Oh shit...carrots are over. Can I fix Maggi for LG's breakfast instead?"

For all I know, going out to work for a few hours everyday would have given me a mental break. Lil General is a very sweet non-fussy child that way. Doesn't bother me much and is quite independent. But at times, a mom needs a physical and mental break. Can be as small as sipping that morning cup of tea by the balcony for longer with a newspaper in hand without having to rush to the kitchen to tick off the next item on the list. I think I get it what V said and we both deserve the break now!

The weekend was good. We've started watching television while LG is asleep in the afternoons. Chak De India was good and so was Rush Hour 3. The IIFA awards on Star Gold was crap. However, Boman Irani was entertaining. Spent the whole of Saturday trying to get Netgear fixed. Turns out, it couldn't take one more fall. The damage is done. The antenna is broken and the wi-fi light wouldn't turn on. So there goes the router in the dumpster. All the electronics in the house are in a jinxed state - first the Bose, then the laptop and now Netgear :(

8 month old is a drama queen

The monthly newsletter is running a little late this time. Lil General completed eight months on August 18th.

The first thing that comes to my mind as I start reflecting on the past month is his increasing fan following in the neighborhood. Strangers stop by to look at him and comment "He is soooooooooo cute." Needless to say, they are mostly college girls or other kids between the ages of 5 and 10. They even know the time when he comes out for a walk and there a few kids waiting around the corner to say hello to him everyday. Oh, and then just about a couple of blocks away, there are 2 girls we always spot on the scooty who said, "Cute father and son." I was a little behind and I overheard them and smiled at them. They did not realise I was the wife and mother of the boys. The sheepish smile on their face said it all :)

The 24*7 entertainment channel never ceases to amuse and surprise us with every action of his. The modem is hanging on to its dear life, the antenna of the Netgear is already broken and I can still hear a feeble beep sound on the land line. The laptop unlike what I predicted has survived.

Vivek and I are slowly figuring out the Parenting manual. There are a lot of hidden costs in child rearing that is never told to you. For example, when you are at the hospital waiting for your turn, if your child pushes the ceramic vase on display and it breaks, you ought to pay for it. The child like LG pretending it did not happen or he wasn't the one to be blamed doesn't help. Yes yes, we paid Rs.100.

Our favorite dog who is by profession a stock trader, Buco Kidoo ha stopped hitting the floors. He was attacked by LG and has been in bed ever since. Buci, his girlfriend, tried rescuing him and has regretted that.

This was also the month when he sat with support for the first time and for a few seconds without support too. He loves sitting now and makes it seem so natural.

The drama queen has his way shouting for no reason with the croc tears always handy. Unfortunately, his parents were born two decades ago to read through his fake crying.

Waking up at 4:00 a.m. is second nature to him. There is a lot of chores to be done around the household - like mopping with his dear susu aunty, putting the soiled clothes from his basket into the washing machine, cleaning the music system and finally eating the wires. And he likes company at that hour, so we ought to be on our toes else be ready for the scratches on my face and the bite on Vivek's nose. This has earned him the name "gunda".

"Good morning kunju" and "good evening kunju" puts a smile on his face.

Holding and passing objects from one hand to another is easy, so is kneeling and half standing for the lean mean crawling machine.

Public display of affection, let me not even begin talking about it. He is very affectionate towards me, understands I am his mother probably which naturally gives him the license to pull my hair, remove my glasses, slap me in the face and scratch me on my arms. When I am sleeping, he loves to climb over me and sleep.

The sher ka bachcha doesn't cry if he gets a wound on his legs. He was bleeding after scratching himself on the knee in the bathtub and didn't shed a tear when Vivek applied Dettol.

He doesn't like eating from his cup or bottle anymore. Wants everything poured directly in his mouth, all at once. Will someone tell him there is no one waiting to have his Nestum?

New territories have been captured like the kitchen and pooja room.

Well, thats all I can recollect for now. More in the next edition in a few weeks....over and out!

Home Alone

A L-shaped balcony just about wide enough to hold 2 adults that opened to a vacant plot on one and an abandoned house on the other side. The main door of the 2 bedroom house on the first floor that opened to a stairway that led down to a veranda secured by an iron gate and which wound up to an open terrace with a furnished a single room that remained locked most of the year. There was a neighbor on the first floor and one more family that lived downstairs. Except the balcony, most aspects of this house was safe. Yet one night, a well grown up adult, all of 25 years, crept from the top of the bed in the middle of the night with pillows and bed sheet and found a cozy place under the bed. Thank God, the maid had done a good job of cleaning under the cot as well. She slept there for the rest of the night anticipating the thief in the balcony to break in anytime. The same followed for 10 consecutive nights until the sane adult of the house returned home. As if this was not enough, blank calls for real kept coming, sometimes for 20 times a day until my neighbor uncle answered once and threatened the caller. That was five years back and the pains of living alone.

If you were wondering if there really was a thief, then you know the answer. The demons were inside her head, not outside. I was busy conjuring images of non-existent people, dreaming of noises no one could hear in the night. I was not bored of living alone when V traveled extensively soon after we got married. I was scared of staying alone during the nights. I would catch up for all the lost sleep of the week in the daytime during the weekends, fresh to resume night duty for the following week. My sleeping under the cot saga was a standing joke at work. Things changed for the better when we moved to our apartment. The feeling that there were 100 other families in the same apartment complex and 3 other neighbors on the same floor gave a sense of security. I was still not brave enough to sleep with lights on. So I would leave the kitchen light on through the night even if it interfered with my sleep routine.

Five years later, I have not got any better. I am still scared of staying home alone during the nights. V's official engagements keeps him away for short durations but they also happen at a short notice. The 2000 sq. ft house does not help in any way in keeping my fear in check. More doors to be locked, balcony and terrace to be secured, quick dial on the cell phone ready, a torch handy and the adjoining room's light on sees me through the night. I consider it a good night if I managed to sleep for 3-4 hours. For me this is the tough part of staying alone. All the rest can be handled like shopping, paying bills etc etc - you know all that it takes to run the show. Maybe I will put up a brave front with LG growing up :)

Back from the dark ages

What it means not to stay connected all day, we realised this past week. Our laptop has been behaving weird and the worst happened as expected last Tuesday. It crashed and neither of us found the time to fix it or get it fixed until last night. We have a HP Pavilion ZX5000 that has strange power issues. Despite replacing the original battery with a new one, it doesn't get charged beyond 37% and had come to a state that it required to be directly on power all the time. Then one thing led to another and soon it was shutting down automatically every now and then - sometimes as soon as I would restart it and sometimes it would go on for 4 hours. HP customer care was no help as they refused to address complaints for this particular notebook and battery series as this is not sold in India.
I guess these repeated shut downs for over 4-5 months finally led to its crash and the system wasn't even booting up. And I couldn't find the damn XP CD. Finally, borrowed it from a friend and reached till the recovery console. V's HTC Touch phone finally helped. I've been silently complaining about his spending a fortune first on the O2 and then on HTC. But it finally came to our rescue as we connected it with the Netgear setup and troubleshooted the notebook. Its back to life but the power problems exist.
Never thought life would be crippled without staying connected - delayed mobile bill payments, couldn't book flight tickets, for that matter no out-of-ordinary dinners as recipes stayed out of reach and finally no checking e-mails or blogging.

Gang of girls and the art of writing personal e-mails

Once upon a time, not so long ago (to be precise 12 years ago), a gang of girls - A,C,L,M,R,R,S went to the same college for their undergraduate studies. They came from different places, some from different countries with starkly varied family backgrounds. Over the four years they spent at college, they grew close to one another many of which were circumstantial (you know how college friendships form). They were 7 in number (and I believe one of them reads this blog occasionally) and not all of them were close to one another while they lived on campus. I say their friendships were circumstantial like A and L slept next to each other - I mean in adjoining beds and shared bedtime stories for a year - yea yea they had a paucity of beds, A and C went to the same class for 3 years, M and S went to the same class, A and R traveled home together and the list goes on..and somewhere down the line the web was formed because of one's association with the other and the seven got acquainted with each other. This is their brief history.

It has been a good eight years since they passed out of college but have stayed in touch with each other, sometimes through e-mails, sometimes through phone calls. They all stay in different timezones across the world with the population in US slightly heavier than that in India. All married, busy with their professional careers and families. I think it is amazing to keep the group thread of yahoo e-mails alive and going this long. Whats the big deal you might ask in this age of instant access to anyone and staying connected 24*7? That's precisely the big deal - the intent to stay connected in this use and throw age keeping the goodwill going. These group e-mails have brought so many good news along the way - weddings, birth of the next generation, family marriages, graduation ceremonies, kodak moments and those-little-happy-moments like i bought this car, I moved into a new house kind of stuff. Each of them might not know the daily grindings of other's lives but all the big stuff is shared.

Why this post? Because, I have personally failed at the art of writing these good personal e-mails that I admire. I look at awe sometimes the length of e-mails and think to myself, "Wow, there is so much to tell and to write. Isn't there anything exciting happening with me?" The truth is, there is. But, it is at times tough to connect with friends you've not met in ages that makes you wonder if this stuff is to mundane to write about, or if you are bragging too much about what you do, do they know the history of what I'm writing now or am I revealing too much about someone other than us that is going to get controversial. Oh believe me, I've burnt my fingers bad which is perhaps why I limit myself to the one or two liners. In short, it is an art to write sweetly revealing so much you need to and I need to get better at this to keep these friendships for a lifetime. Some friendships are meant to be ..

Updated on 19th August 2007 : A member of the gang of girls - C, wrote to me with her opinion. It would not do any justice to this post without posting what she wrote so here it is..

It is very hard to draw the line between sharing without over-doing it as well as expressing yourself while not offending someone else. Esp. since all of us are no longer young/in college. We have families and people whom we are extremely sensitive about – even about the smallest of careless comments. We have all grown up to be people different from whom we were and whom the other used to know (and be able to gauge) so well!

But it still is great that we are in touch and can share so much! Here’s to one great group of friends - Cheers!

My second article gets published

Two articles getting published in a month has given me such a high that I can't compare this feeling with anything else in recent times. This time it got published in The Hindu's opportunities and there is a link online too, unlike the earlier one. The article titled Five tips to manage notice period woes was published last Wednesday but I hadn't bothered to check it then and saw it by chance yesterday...It has been up there for a week. I saw the first link on Hindu jobs and thought to myself, this kinda sounds familiar and before I could reach to the end of the article to see the author's name, my net connection died, which is nothing new. So I hastily called up V who was in the midst of a conf call to check it for me. What I didn't realize was it is a jobs site and he was at work. Anyways he confirmed it was mine.

I spend a fortune on phone calls calling dad at work, mom at home, father-in-law at work to tell them about my article being published, when I don't get paid a penny. Never mind, maybe someday I will.

Oh btw, if you are at work, you wouldn't want to open the link.