Kids - impressionable, to say the least.
Remember the series on Jesse Owens and Nadia Comaneci, aired on TV? After the Jesse Owens series, out came our shorts and running shoes, and we ran and "trained" morning till evening. We played long jump, high jump, sprinted, marathoned, and what have you.
But the Nadia Comaneci series drove us crazier. Overnight, we turned into gymnasts. We were pretty convinced that by the year 2000, one of us would be India's Olympic gold medallist. We cartwheeled day in and day out. There were bars in the car shed, on which we hung and swung, and tried to perform great feats. We ended up with calloused palms, and nothing else to show for all our efforts. This fad died out as suddenly as it had begun.
Then there was this period when Tennis was a craze, but we had only a Badminton court. So we named ourselves after Tennis players and played Badminton. I was Jennifer Capriati, for some unknown reason. My sister had to be Steffi Graf. She was Steffi's greatest fan on earth at that time. She even had a lifesize poster of hers hanging in the room. This fad also passed quite quickly.
Then one of us got a cycle. Overnight, all of us had acquired cycles. We learnt cycling, fell, bruised ourselves, and then once we had the hang of it, we cycled all around the lawn, on the main road, other roads, hit each other, gave each other "Dubs" (pillion rides).
I had a problem - I couldn't get down gracefully from a cycle. I would brake, and then jump. In hindsight, I must have looked like a clown. But back then, I didn't understand why the boys would wait and watch me until I got down and then burst into laughter. Many days I went home in tears. I have no idea when I learnt to get down gracefully, but I did, pretty soon.
Oh, a word about my Avon cycle. My dad and I went to buy it in a street off Commercial Street, and ate at Woody's while it was being set up for me. I chose a green cycle. 700 rupees. Not your ordinary olive or bottle green cycle. It was a light green, which faded into white. It was very unique, and to think of it, funny. No wonder my father asked me half a dozen times - "Are you sure?" But in my eyes it was beautiful. Unique. Rare. It couldn't be missed. I didn't have to, like others, look for my cycle in the cycle stand. It just stood out. Even after I started taking it to school, I had no problems like the others - "I have parked it near the third pillar, blah blah". I would walk straight to it. Perhaps the others used my cycle to mark theirs - "I have parked it near the green cycle" - who knows!
And then it was skating season. Somebody got roller skates. And then all of us got roller skates. I bought mine at Olympic Sports shop next to Mac Fast Food on Church Street, off Brigade Road. 140 rupees. Mine had rubber wheels. Ahem ahem. Which didn't harm the surface skated on.
We skated mostly in the community center. I don't remember the learning process at all, but I seem to have picked it up pretty soon. We did nothing but skate all evening.
But I had gone crazy. Skating had taken over my life. I wore it all day long, and I mean all day long. I would have even gone to school skating if it had been allowed (I anyway used to get dreams that I was skating in the school corridors after school hours). My addiction was so bad that I never walked at home for a long time. I only skated. I wore skates while doing homework, while eating, drinking.
I even wore skates to the Indian-style toilet once. Really. Just to prove a point to myself. My mom told me repeatedly - don't lock the door, Shruthi. Careful, Careful. She stood outside, wringing her hands, waiting for the crash and the cry for help. It never came. I came outside, triumphant. I even washed the skates, because they had been in the toilet.
Another time, there were guests, and since I loved to serve tea in a tray, my mom made the tea and asked me to bring it out and serve. She had forgotten that I was wearing skates. I skated into the kitchen, picked up the large tray, with about ten cups of steaming tea, and skated into the living room, pushing the curtains aside with my elbows. The gathering fell silent. They held their breaths as I served them tea - one by one, one by one... only after the last cup was safely in the hands of the last guest, did everybody breathe.
Even now, I rate skating as one of the greatest joys of life.
Next: The Lawn
Wednesday, November 28, 2007
Monday, November 26, 2007
Township Tales - Games we played.
We were a lot of us in the colony, and there was hardly a boring moment. We played a huge variety of games, adding and subtracting rules, making variations - never ever tiring of it.
Running and Catching - Of course, the old favourite. And we played it with many variations.
Sudden Touch - where, the moment you are caught, you lash out and touch the person again, and she is out again, and then she touches you immediately, and you are out, and this could go on unless one of you dodges your way to safety.
Short chain, where you are safe if you hold on to someone else when the person who is "Out" comes to catch you. Long Chain - When the "Out" person catches you, you join hands with her, and together catch the others. Then you catch the third person, and the three of you go as a chain to catch the others.
Lock and Key - When somebody comes to catch you, you say "Lock", and you are Locked, she cannot catch you. But you remain "Locked" until someone else comes and touches you and says, "Key".
Tree Tree - We had lots of trees in the Lawn, and in this game, all of us gather at one tree, and the "Out" person names a tree, to which you have to run without getting caught. You are safe as long as you are in contact with any tree on the way, or in contact with a person who is in contact with a tree. We even had names for the trees - Fatty, Thinny, and so on. By the time I left the township, Thinny was very fat indeed!
We played variations of Tree Tree too - Pole Pole, Bush Bush, and when our dads bought cars - Car Car.
Then there was my pet hate - Hide and Seek. The problem with this game was that if you were "Out", you go around the colony looking for hidden people, and you have to find every single one of them. But before you found a person, if he jumped out at you and hit you on the back and says "Dubba!" you have to go back to be out. When I was Out, I was always Dubbafied. Along with that insult of being Dubbafied, was the physical hurt - my back stinging with the resounding slap of Dubba. So whenever I was out, I used to wait until everybody hid, then run back home and curl up with a book. And then my friends would come looking for me. Ha! Some kind of indescribable joy that was! I then decided that it would be kinder to just not join in the game!
There were other girlie games, that involved a lot of clapping and hitting shoulders and thighs and chanting stuff. I think I enjoyed them. There were other Statue games, where you shouldn't move or you are Out. These were for hot afternoons.
There were other games - variations of Dog and the Bone, and something called Crocodile Crocodile which involved colours.... we also played Kuntebille (hopscotch) quite a bit - with a small piece of asbestos sheet that we called "baccha".
Badminton was another favourite. We would emerge with our rackets, and since there were so many of us, but only one shuttlecock, we didn't play matches, as they would take long. We played a kind of Round Robin game, where you have to stop playing if the Shuttlecock hits your racquet and falls in your own court, and another girl takes your place, and so on.
But invariably, the shuttlecock would get stuck in the jacaranda tree. Then we would waste half the time trying to retrieve the shuttlecock. We would throw one chappal into the tree. The shuttlecock would come down, and the chappal would get stuck. So we would throw the second chappal, and - you guessed it - the second chappal would get stuck and the first would come down. After a lot of effort, we got all our belongings down, along with a shower of pretty mauve jacaranda flowers, and then the game would continue.
We played a unique game of football - boys vs girls. Our Lawn had a waist-length hedge. The gap in the hedge on opposite sides of the lawn were the goals. The moment football was announced, my friend Su would run home and come back in an old Jari Langa(traditional silk long skirt, with a zari border). She would be the goalkeeper, and would stand at the goal, and spread her legs wide, so that the skirt was stretched taut, and covered the entire goal. Any prospective goal was foiled by the ball bouncing back promptly from her skirt. The girls always won. The boys protested. "Not fair. Su is wearing a langa." We would chorus, "If you want, you also wear and come, who asked you not to?" And then we would roar with laughter. The boys would fall silent. After a while,they stopped playing football with us, what a pity.
We played cricket sometimes. My knowledge of cricket was even worse then, than it is now. Despite being in the batting team, I would field, and I once accused the umpire of not taking a catch. Well. I was that bad. But I could hit a mean sixer. And that was perhaps the sole reason they took me into their teams. And no, I haven't broken any windows.
Next: Fads
Running and Catching - Of course, the old favourite. And we played it with many variations.
Sudden Touch - where, the moment you are caught, you lash out and touch the person again, and she is out again, and then she touches you immediately, and you are out, and this could go on unless one of you dodges your way to safety.
Short chain, where you are safe if you hold on to someone else when the person who is "Out" comes to catch you. Long Chain - When the "Out" person catches you, you join hands with her, and together catch the others. Then you catch the third person, and the three of you go as a chain to catch the others.
Lock and Key - When somebody comes to catch you, you say "Lock", and you are Locked, she cannot catch you. But you remain "Locked" until someone else comes and touches you and says, "Key".
Tree Tree - We had lots of trees in the Lawn, and in this game, all of us gather at one tree, and the "Out" person names a tree, to which you have to run without getting caught. You are safe as long as you are in contact with any tree on the way, or in contact with a person who is in contact with a tree. We even had names for the trees - Fatty, Thinny, and so on. By the time I left the township, Thinny was very fat indeed!
We played variations of Tree Tree too - Pole Pole, Bush Bush, and when our dads bought cars - Car Car.
Then there was my pet hate - Hide and Seek. The problem with this game was that if you were "Out", you go around the colony looking for hidden people, and you have to find every single one of them. But before you found a person, if he jumped out at you and hit you on the back and says "Dubba!" you have to go back to be out. When I was Out, I was always Dubbafied. Along with that insult of being Dubbafied, was the physical hurt - my back stinging with the resounding slap of Dubba. So whenever I was out, I used to wait until everybody hid, then run back home and curl up with a book. And then my friends would come looking for me. Ha! Some kind of indescribable joy that was! I then decided that it would be kinder to just not join in the game!
There were other girlie games, that involved a lot of clapping and hitting shoulders and thighs and chanting stuff. I think I enjoyed them. There were other Statue games, where you shouldn't move or you are Out. These were for hot afternoons.
There were other games - variations of Dog and the Bone, and something called Crocodile Crocodile which involved colours.... we also played Kuntebille (hopscotch) quite a bit - with a small piece of asbestos sheet that we called "baccha".
Badminton was another favourite. We would emerge with our rackets, and since there were so many of us, but only one shuttlecock, we didn't play matches, as they would take long. We played a kind of Round Robin game, where you have to stop playing if the Shuttlecock hits your racquet and falls in your own court, and another girl takes your place, and so on.
But invariably, the shuttlecock would get stuck in the jacaranda tree. Then we would waste half the time trying to retrieve the shuttlecock. We would throw one chappal into the tree. The shuttlecock would come down, and the chappal would get stuck. So we would throw the second chappal, and - you guessed it - the second chappal would get stuck and the first would come down. After a lot of effort, we got all our belongings down, along with a shower of pretty mauve jacaranda flowers, and then the game would continue.
We played a unique game of football - boys vs girls. Our Lawn had a waist-length hedge. The gap in the hedge on opposite sides of the lawn were the goals. The moment football was announced, my friend Su would run home and come back in an old Jari Langa(traditional silk long skirt, with a zari border). She would be the goalkeeper, and would stand at the goal, and spread her legs wide, so that the skirt was stretched taut, and covered the entire goal. Any prospective goal was foiled by the ball bouncing back promptly from her skirt. The girls always won. The boys protested. "Not fair. Su is wearing a langa." We would chorus, "If you want, you also wear and come, who asked you not to?" And then we would roar with laughter. The boys would fall silent. After a while,they stopped playing football with us, what a pity.
We played cricket sometimes. My knowledge of cricket was even worse then, than it is now. Despite being in the batting team, I would field, and I once accused the umpire of not taking a catch. Well. I was that bad. But I could hit a mean sixer. And that was perhaps the sole reason they took me into their teams. And no, I haven't broken any windows.
Next: Fads
Saturday, November 24, 2007
Akashvani Sangeet Sammelan 2007
I am overwhelmed by the mails requesting me to put up the Akashvani Sangeet Sammelan schedule for this year, like I did last year. I am still looking for it. If I find it, I will put it up here. Please watch this space.
Btw, it started yesterday. Tune in to your local station every weeknight at 10 pm, and at 9 30 pm on weekends.
Enjoy.
Update on 29th Nov 2007 - I got the schedule, and here it is. Thanks to Dr. H.R.Krishnamurthy, (Dy. Director General, Prasar Bharati (South Zone), All India Radio, Bangalore), who promptly sent the schedule to my parents.
Shri S.K.Dasgupta, Sarod (on 14th Dec) is a close family friend. My father learnt from him (Hawaiian Guitar) many many years ago. They were colleagues and remain good friends to this day.
Btw, it started yesterday. Tune in to your local station every weeknight at 10 pm, and at 9 30 pm on weekends.
Enjoy.
Update on 29th Nov 2007 - I got the schedule, and here it is. Thanks to Dr. H.R.Krishnamurthy, (Dy. Director General, Prasar Bharati (South Zone), All India Radio, Bangalore), who promptly sent the schedule to my parents.
| Date | Time | Artist | Details |
| 29th Nov 2007 | 10 pm | Jayaprada Ramamurthy | Flute |
| 30th Nov | 10 pm | Prof Ritwik Sanyal | Dhrupad Dhamar |
| 1st Dec – Sat | 9 30 pm | Charumati Ramachandran | Vocal |
|
| 10 30 pm | Haridwaramangalam A.K.Palanivel | Thavil |
| 2nd Dec – Sun | 10 am | Kailash Sharma | Flute |
|
| 11 am | Debashish Dey | Vocal |
|
| 9 30 pm | Vid Poornima Chaudhuri | Thumri-Dadra |
|
| 10 30 pm | Faiyaz Khan | Tabla Solo |
| 4th Dec – Tue | 10 pm | Pt. Giriraj | Sitar |
| 5th Dec – Wed | 10 pm | Seetakadu T.G.Murugavel | Nagaswaram |
| 6th Dec – Thu | 10 pm | Shubha Mudgal | Vocal |
| 7th Dec – Fri | 10 pm | A.Ananthapadmanabhan | Veena |
| 8th Dec – Sat | 9 30 pm | Pt.Vishwamohan Bhatt | Guitar |
| 9th Dec – Sun | 10 am | Pankaj Kumar Banerji | Flute |
|
| 11 am | Dr. Kumar Das | Vocal |
|
| 9 30 pm | D.Sheshachari and D.Raghavachari (Hyderabad Brothers) | Vocal Duet |
| 10th Dec – Mon | 10 pm | Keka Mukherjee | Sitar |
| 11th Dec – Tue | 10 pm | Dr. K.Vageesh | Vocal |
| 12th Dec – Wed | 10 pm | Santosh Kumar Mishra | Sarangi |
| 13th Dec – Thu | 10 pm | Suguna Purushottam | Vocal |
| 14th Dec – Fri | 10 pm | S.K.Dasgupta | Sarod |
| 15th Dec – Sat | 9 30 pm | Palai C.K.Ramachandran | Vocal |
|
| 10 30 pm | Srimushanam V. Rajarao | Mridangam Solo |
| 16th Dec – Sun | 10 am | Sriram Umdekar | Sitar |
|
| 11 am | Meeta Pandit | Vocal |
|
| 9 30 pm | Premkumar Mallik | Dhrupad Dhamar |
|
| 10 30 pm | Pt. Madanmohan Upadhyay | Tabla Solo |
| 17th Dec – Mon | 10 pm | Dr C.A.Sridhar | Flute |
| 18th Dec – Tue | 10 pm | Manojit Mallik | Vocal |
| 19th Dec – Wed | 10 pm | Prof R.Vishweshwaran | Veena |
| 20th Dec – Thu | 10 pm | Padma Talwalkar | Vocal |
| 21st Dec – Fri | 10 pm | Satish Prakash Quamar | Shehnai |
| 22nd Dec – Sat | 9 30 pm | Vid. Dr.N.Rajam | Violin |
| 23rd Dec – Sun | 9 30 pm | M.S.Sheela | Vocal |
| 24th Dec – Mon | 10 pm | Pushparaj Koshti | Sitar |
| 25th Dec – Tue | 10 pm | Uma and Geeta | Vocal Duet |
| 26th Dec – Wed | 10 pm | Satish Vyas | Santoor |
| 27th Dec – Thu | 10 pm | Chengalpattu V.Muthukrishnan | Nagaswaram |
| 28th Dec – Fri | 10 pm | P.V. Ramaprasad | Vocal |
| 29th Dec – Sat | 9 30 pm | Pt. D.K. Datar | Violin |
| 30th Dec – Sun | 9 30 pm | Mohanlal Mishra | Vocal |
|
| 10 30 pm | Anil Chowdhury | Pakhawaj Solo |
| 1st Jan 2008 – Tue | 10 pm | Naresh Malhotra | Vocal |
| 2nd Jan 2008 – Wed | 10 pm | Shyamlal Nath | Sarod |
Shri S.K.Dasgupta, Sarod (on 14th Dec) is a close family friend. My father learnt from him (Hawaiian Guitar) many many years ago. They were colleagues and remain good friends to this day.
Thursday, November 22, 2007
Six months old
My sweet Puttachi,
It is impossible to believe that you are already six months old. I remember my first look at you six months ago....though you were inside me for so long, you were a stranger to me! Now, I know every whimper, every cry, every grimace, every look of yours - I can read you like a book!
Six months - half a year - You are no longer a little baby - you are my big baby now. How time has flown!
If I am asked to describe you in one word now, it would be Playful.
I love the way your eyes dance with mischief. You already steal hearts with your winning smile.
You are happiest when you are standing, holding on to somebody or something. Whenever you get any kind of support, you hurry to pull yourself up. And then once you are standing, you look around with delight, and make excited noises. You even try to take little steps with your tiny, pretty feet, holding on to somebody. No matter how sleepy, tired, hungry, bored, or weepy you are, the moment you stand, everything disappears and your face splits into a smile!
You have been sitting unsupported for about a month, and you look so much at home, as if you have been doing it every day of your life. You protest loudly if made to lie on your back for any reason at all.
When you are lying down, even if anybody says "Baa, baa" (come, come) or "Edda, edda" (Childspeak for Get up, get up) from the next room, you get hyperexcited and start banging your strong limbs all over, and lift your stomach up again and again in anticipation. It is really amusing to watch you.
Your eyes light up the moment your Papa walks into the room. It is such a pleasure to see you then (no, I am not talking about how jealous I get, though!). And when he dangles the baby carrier before you? You almost jump off the bed in your delight!
When you are playing, but are hungry, or sleepy, and if you spot me then, your whole attitude changes, you start whimpering, and look at me with a pleading look - it makes me giggle helplessly. Then your obvious pleasure when I pick you up - how lovely that is! And of course, the special smile reserved only for me - makes mommyhood even more special than it already is!
Puttachi, I know you hate to be put on your back, but really, if I could change your nappy with you standing or sitting, I would have done so. But I just cannot. So please, please, cooperate with me! If you don't wiggle so much, I can finish the job in half the time, and you can go back to your games!
Similarly, sweetheart, don't resist going to sleep. Can you play with your eyes half closed? The sooner you sleep, the sooner you can wake up and play! So please go to sleep quickly. And err... while you are at it, do take longer naps! 15 minute naps are for adults, not babies!
You are showing signs of wanting to crawl forward to get at - of all the things - a Kitkat wrapper! You foodie, you! Do you know how you lick your lips whenever you see one of us eating something, or even when you see something you know is edible? :D Of course, it is another matter that edible or not, everything finds its way into your mouth.
Puttachi, our lives have changed completely ever since you made an appearance. Life has always been beautiful, but you have more than doubled the reasons for me to smile ever since you arrived.
I assure you that Papa and I will do everything in our power to ensure that your face doesn't lose that smile. Ever.
We love you.
Yours
Amma.
It is impossible to believe that you are already six months old. I remember my first look at you six months ago....though you were inside me for so long, you were a stranger to me! Now, I know every whimper, every cry, every grimace, every look of yours - I can read you like a book!
Six months - half a year - You are no longer a little baby - you are my big baby now. How time has flown!
If I am asked to describe you in one word now, it would be Playful.
I love the way your eyes dance with mischief. You already steal hearts with your winning smile.
You are happiest when you are standing, holding on to somebody or something. Whenever you get any kind of support, you hurry to pull yourself up. And then once you are standing, you look around with delight, and make excited noises. You even try to take little steps with your tiny, pretty feet, holding on to somebody. No matter how sleepy, tired, hungry, bored, or weepy you are, the moment you stand, everything disappears and your face splits into a smile!
You have been sitting unsupported for about a month, and you look so much at home, as if you have been doing it every day of your life. You protest loudly if made to lie on your back for any reason at all.
When you are lying down, even if anybody says "Baa, baa" (come, come) or "Edda, edda" (Childspeak for Get up, get up) from the next room, you get hyperexcited and start banging your strong limbs all over, and lift your stomach up again and again in anticipation. It is really amusing to watch you.
Your eyes light up the moment your Papa walks into the room. It is such a pleasure to see you then (no, I am not talking about how jealous I get, though!). And when he dangles the baby carrier before you? You almost jump off the bed in your delight!
When you are playing, but are hungry, or sleepy, and if you spot me then, your whole attitude changes, you start whimpering, and look at me with a pleading look - it makes me giggle helplessly. Then your obvious pleasure when I pick you up - how lovely that is! And of course, the special smile reserved only for me - makes mommyhood even more special than it already is!
Puttachi, I know you hate to be put on your back, but really, if I could change your nappy with you standing or sitting, I would have done so. But I just cannot. So please, please, cooperate with me! If you don't wiggle so much, I can finish the job in half the time, and you can go back to your games!
Similarly, sweetheart, don't resist going to sleep. Can you play with your eyes half closed? The sooner you sleep, the sooner you can wake up and play! So please go to sleep quickly. And err... while you are at it, do take longer naps! 15 minute naps are for adults, not babies!
You are showing signs of wanting to crawl forward to get at - of all the things - a Kitkat wrapper! You foodie, you! Do you know how you lick your lips whenever you see one of us eating something, or even when you see something you know is edible? :D Of course, it is another matter that edible or not, everything finds its way into your mouth.
Puttachi, our lives have changed completely ever since you made an appearance. Life has always been beautiful, but you have more than doubled the reasons for me to smile ever since you arrived.
I assure you that Papa and I will do everything in our power to ensure that your face doesn't lose that smile. Ever.
We love you.
Yours
Amma.
Tuesday, November 20, 2007
Township Tales - Getting into Trouble
I was quite the quintessential Miss Goody-two-shoes. But what is childhood if not for the occasional rebellion? I did get into trouble sometimes.
We were not allowed to go out of the colony gates unsupervised. There was a bar at one end of the road, and a lonely Water Supply Board area on the other. So it was a strict no-no. But once, someone told us that there was construction going on somewhere on our road, and there was a huge mound of sand with CLAY! So shall we go? I went. Without permission. My heart thudded, but a sand mound was too tempting. As I sat there, playing, my luck ran out - my dad , coming back from office, spotted me. My poor dad is one of the sweetest dads ever - he has hardly ever raised his voice with us. My mom too, for that matter. But yet, I was shocked and scared beyond belief. My father didn't even react. He gave me a friendly smile and a wave and proceeded towards the township. But I cried all the way back. I went home, and my dad and mom were talking. My dad had perhaps not even thought that the event was important enough to tell my mom, they were probably talking about something else - but to my guilty mind, they were discussing what to do with me. I went right in, confessed and apologized and cried - my parents just said - Don't do it again. And I am sure, they laughed up their sleeves at me later!
There were a couple of public toilets in the colony. These stank royally. We hardly went near them. But once, my mom saw one of my friends use that toilet. She told me, "Look, that girl used that toilet - make sure you don't." So, obviously, I just HAD to. It made no sense actually. While playing outside, if I needed to use the toilet, the toilet in my home was closer than that stinking public toilet. But since it had been forbidden, I HAD to go. And I went. My mom's friend spotted me. And told my mom. When I went back home, my mom was wild with rage. "Kaal muridu kaige kodthini!" She said. (I'll break your legs and put them in your hands!) I believed her. And howled all evening. [That was the worst scolding I have got in my life from her. Really. I am a spoilt brat.]
Then there was this time when a friend told me that tamarind leaves taste as good as the fruit themselves, and so I plucked a handful of leaves (I don't recall how I could reach the leaves, though) and ate them, and puked all over myself. This time, my mom was more concerned (about my health or my stupidity, I don't know) than angry, so I was let go with just a warning.
One more. We weren't allowed to go up to the terrace of any building. The doors to the terraces of all the blocks were always locked, except that of one block, which had a separate spiral staircase from outside. Though climbing this staircase was explicitly forbidden, I had gone up once. And had been so overcome with guilt that I had come down almost immediately! I was that goody-goody. Yawn.
Oh, and here's another incident - strictly not one where I broke rules... but it is kind of unforgettable. One boundary of the colony consisted of a low parapet, on which were iron railings. Jasmine creepers hugged these railings. Once, I climbed the parapet to pick jasmine flowers, and then I jumped down. My skirt got caught on the railings, and for one moment, I dangled by my skirt. The skirt then tore, and I landed on the bed of the Jasmine plant with an undignified thump. Right on the spot where my friend Pi had buried her dead goldfish. I escaped unhurt, but the skirt was one which I loved, and it had torn so much that even my mom's magic fingers couldn't repair it satisfactorily.
Next: Games.
We were not allowed to go out of the colony gates unsupervised. There was a bar at one end of the road, and a lonely Water Supply Board area on the other. So it was a strict no-no. But once, someone told us that there was construction going on somewhere on our road, and there was a huge mound of sand with CLAY! So shall we go? I went. Without permission. My heart thudded, but a sand mound was too tempting. As I sat there, playing, my luck ran out - my dad , coming back from office, spotted me. My poor dad is one of the sweetest dads ever - he has hardly ever raised his voice with us. My mom too, for that matter. But yet, I was shocked and scared beyond belief. My father didn't even react. He gave me a friendly smile and a wave and proceeded towards the township. But I cried all the way back. I went home, and my dad and mom were talking. My dad had perhaps not even thought that the event was important enough to tell my mom, they were probably talking about something else - but to my guilty mind, they were discussing what to do with me. I went right in, confessed and apologized and cried - my parents just said - Don't do it again. And I am sure, they laughed up their sleeves at me later!
There were a couple of public toilets in the colony. These stank royally. We hardly went near them. But once, my mom saw one of my friends use that toilet. She told me, "Look, that girl used that toilet - make sure you don't." So, obviously, I just HAD to. It made no sense actually. While playing outside, if I needed to use the toilet, the toilet in my home was closer than that stinking public toilet. But since it had been forbidden, I HAD to go. And I went. My mom's friend spotted me. And told my mom. When I went back home, my mom was wild with rage. "Kaal muridu kaige kodthini!" She said. (I'll break your legs and put them in your hands!) I believed her. And howled all evening. [That was the worst scolding I have got in my life from her. Really. I am a spoilt brat.]
Then there was this time when a friend told me that tamarind leaves taste as good as the fruit themselves, and so I plucked a handful of leaves (I don't recall how I could reach the leaves, though) and ate them, and puked all over myself. This time, my mom was more concerned (about my health or my stupidity, I don't know) than angry, so I was let go with just a warning.
One more. We weren't allowed to go up to the terrace of any building. The doors to the terraces of all the blocks were always locked, except that of one block, which had a separate spiral staircase from outside. Though climbing this staircase was explicitly forbidden, I had gone up once. And had been so overcome with guilt that I had come down almost immediately! I was that goody-goody. Yawn.
Oh, and here's another incident - strictly not one where I broke rules... but it is kind of unforgettable. One boundary of the colony consisted of a low parapet, on which were iron railings. Jasmine creepers hugged these railings. Once, I climbed the parapet to pick jasmine flowers, and then I jumped down. My skirt got caught on the railings, and for one moment, I dangled by my skirt. The skirt then tore, and I landed on the bed of the Jasmine plant with an undignified thump. Right on the spot where my friend Pi had buried her dead goldfish. I escaped unhurt, but the skirt was one which I loved, and it had torn so much that even my mom's magic fingers couldn't repair it satisfactorily.
Next: Games.
Monday, November 19, 2007
Township Tales
For nearly twenty years of my life, I lived in a township in a quiet road in beautiful Malleshwaram.
Today, if I am a friendly, confident person, it is entirely due to growing up in that township. I spent my entire childhood there, and naturally, I have some wonderful, unforgettable memories. A couple of days ago, I thought, "Oh, I must write them all down - I might forget" - and naturally, my blog popped into my head. So, be prepared, I am going to subject you to some nostalgia in, I hope, a series of posts on life in the township.
I was a very shy child. When we moved into the township, I was about four years old. There were already a number of children of my age, and they would play outside every day. No matter how much my mom pushed and prodded me, I wouldn't go out to play with them. So, my mom took down from the shelves her treasure of excellent, educative board games that she had brought back with her from Germany, and she started calling those kids home on quiet afternoons to play the games with me.
I was now comfortable as I was on home ground, and slowly, as the kids became my friends, I ventured out to play with them, and soon, my mom reached a stage where she must have wondered - "why on earth did I encourage her to go out and play?" - coz I didn't want to come back home.
I grew up with those kids, and am in touch with many of them even now. There is one, among them, who has been a "best friend" right from then, until now. We will be celebrating 25 years of friendship next year. Another of them is C, a wonderful person - I know you must be reading ... I am sure you will enjoy this - you were the one who first put this thought into my head :)
Our township was a public sector colony - all our dads worked in the same place. There were 68 houses in all. There was a Community Centre, where we could play indoor games and read India Today, Filmfare and Wisdom. There was a big lawn, which was definitely a lawn in the beginning. But as it saw more and more of our games, not a single blade of grass could be seen in that poor lawn. The newcomers to the colony called it "Ground" - more appropriate. But for us, it remained the "Lawn" until the very end. This of course, was the centrestage for all our games.
There were a lot of trees in the township. There were some in the Lawn, and lots of tamarind trees behind one of the blocks. Naturally, the story was that ghosts lived there, and we would not go there after six pm even for a million bucks.
Our regular schedule during school days was - come back from school, gobble up something, do part of the homework in a flash, and out to play - and not going back until our moms had called us a hundred times, and after many, many "Amma, five minutes". Then, rest of the homework, dinner, and sleep. There was TV, in its ancient avataar, with only good old DD, but it didn't stand any chance - playing outside was far more attractive.
During holidays, we would get up, bathe, finish our breakfast, and run out to play. Then, back for lunch, sit uncomfortably still through the afternoon.. [Our moms - Don't play outside in the hot sun. We - Ok, can we play in the cold sun? Hyuk hyuk]. The moment it turned 5 pm, off we went again, and during holdays, we were allowed to go back outside after dinner (no running, though). Sometimes.
Next: Getting into trouble.
Today, if I am a friendly, confident person, it is entirely due to growing up in that township. I spent my entire childhood there, and naturally, I have some wonderful, unforgettable memories. A couple of days ago, I thought, "Oh, I must write them all down - I might forget" - and naturally, my blog popped into my head. So, be prepared, I am going to subject you to some nostalgia in, I hope, a series of posts on life in the township.
I was a very shy child. When we moved into the township, I was about four years old. There were already a number of children of my age, and they would play outside every day. No matter how much my mom pushed and prodded me, I wouldn't go out to play with them. So, my mom took down from the shelves her treasure of excellent, educative board games that she had brought back with her from Germany, and she started calling those kids home on quiet afternoons to play the games with me.
I was now comfortable as I was on home ground, and slowly, as the kids became my friends, I ventured out to play with them, and soon, my mom reached a stage where she must have wondered - "why on earth did I encourage her to go out and play?" - coz I didn't want to come back home.
I grew up with those kids, and am in touch with many of them even now. There is one, among them, who has been a "best friend" right from then, until now. We will be celebrating 25 years of friendship next year. Another of them is C, a wonderful person - I know you must be reading ... I am sure you will enjoy this - you were the one who first put this thought into my head :)
Our township was a public sector colony - all our dads worked in the same place. There were 68 houses in all. There was a Community Centre, where we could play indoor games and read India Today, Filmfare and Wisdom. There was a big lawn, which was definitely a lawn in the beginning. But as it saw more and more of our games, not a single blade of grass could be seen in that poor lawn. The newcomers to the colony called it "Ground" - more appropriate. But for us, it remained the "Lawn" until the very end. This of course, was the centrestage for all our games.
There were a lot of trees in the township. There were some in the Lawn, and lots of tamarind trees behind one of the blocks. Naturally, the story was that ghosts lived there, and we would not go there after six pm even for a million bucks.
Our regular schedule during school days was - come back from school, gobble up something, do part of the homework in a flash, and out to play - and not going back until our moms had called us a hundred times, and after many, many "Amma, five minutes". Then, rest of the homework, dinner, and sleep. There was TV, in its ancient avataar, with only good old DD, but it didn't stand any chance - playing outside was far more attractive.
During holidays, we would get up, bathe, finish our breakfast, and run out to play. Then, back for lunch, sit uncomfortably still through the afternoon.. [Our moms - Don't play outside in the hot sun. We - Ok, can we play in the cold sun? Hyuk hyuk]. The moment it turned 5 pm, off we went again, and during holdays, we were allowed to go back outside after dinner (no running, though). Sometimes.
Next: Getting into trouble.
Friday, November 16, 2007
Back..
... to the old look. Much as I liked the new look, it was just not "me".
Have you ever seen and loved a dress in a shop, bought it, and then come back home and worn it, and felt totally uncomfortable? This was exactly how I felt with the new template.
So I am back. This is boring, but this is more "me".
Am tied up with lots of things - apologies for not replying to your comments - but I am reading each one of them, do keep them coming!
Posting might be light for a few days... don't go away! :)
Have you ever seen and loved a dress in a shop, bought it, and then come back home and worn it, and felt totally uncomfortable? This was exactly how I felt with the new template.
So I am back. This is boring, but this is more "me".
Am tied up with lots of things - apologies for not replying to your comments - but I am reading each one of them, do keep them coming!
Posting might be light for a few days... don't go away! :)
Monday, November 12, 2007
The flip side!
I see that many of you are getting influenced by my baby posts, and you want to have babies too. Ok. But a warning. Not everything is roses in baby-world. It is just that I choose to write only about the positives. BUT. Since I realize that you innocent beings are getting influenced by this hunky-dory picture, I thought it was time to present the right picture before you. So here goes.
How is it, to have a baby? What does it entail? Here is a picture - of the first six months at least.
I can't remember the other points I had made in my head - coz I am sleepy and tired after a long day - and this is the only time I get online... there you go.. one more point!
So, here you have it. This is what it means to have a baby. Lots of work. No rest. Ok? Now, all of you who have been influenced by my rosy baby posts - you can stop reading now.
For the others - All these hardships are real, yes, and yet, at the end of it, you look at the innocent, trusting, delightful creature in front of you, and all that you can say is, "It's all worth it."
How is it, to have a baby? What does it entail? Here is a picture - of the first six months at least.
- Being available 24/7. No breaks. No slacking.
- Baby becomes primary, the centre of the universe. Everything and everybody revolves around it.
- Sleep? What's that?
- Having a bath in 5 minutes, with one ear on the door for the sound of the wail.
- Excellent control on bladder and bowels.
- There is no time that you don't think of baby. Even if you are away. If I leave the baby and go away for a while - to the parlour, to the shop around the corner, to the doc, to the neighbour's house or even on a small walk, I call every five minutes. "What is she doing?"
- When husband calls from office and asks, "What's my sweetheart up to?", he doesn't mean you.
- All that you seem to talk about with husband is about the baby. So, you decide, let's set aside an hour where we'll talk about something else. The hour starts now. And baby wails from the next room. Sigh.
- TV? Theatre? Movies? Concerts? What's that?
- Days seem to be a continuous haze of feeds and nappy changes.
- Endless hours of walking the baby to put her to sleep.
- Innumerable attempts at transfering baby from arms to crib without waking her up.
- And then kiss her and wake her up. Sigh.
- Excruciating back-aches from carrying the baby around.
- Before the baby, when you had to go out, all you had to do was - pull on a pair of jeans and a t-shirt, run a comb through your hair, and you are set. Now. Try to pull on a pair of jeans and a t-shirt. Find that they don't fit any more. Don trousers and a loose kurti instead. Dress the baby. Diaper. Frock. Light jacket. Booties. Check baby for signs of hunger. If hungry, feed. If not, proceed to packing the baby's bag. Diapers, wipes, cotton, water, extra set of clothes, mat, napkins to wipe drool, plastic bags to put soiled diaper in. Extra diapers. Extra pieces of cloth (just in case). Sweater (what if it becomes cold?). Wrap. Extra wrap. Check, recheck, re-re-check. All set, get ready to go. Open the door. Baby soils diaper/shows signs of hunger. Back to changing/feeding. Repeat process until successful. Unless it is too late to go.
- Make an attempt to look good, then go out with your baby - everybody looks only at baby. Nobody even glances at you. You could have as well gone in pyjamas.
- Visit someone's house with baby. You ring the bell, husband is trailing, carrying baby. Door is opened, and the host says, "Hi.. what.. where is the baby?" Looks beyond me, sees the bundle in husband's arms, then says, "Oh ok, come on in, then".
- Grin and bear all the advice and comments on how you look after baby. Nothing you do can be right. Case in point - pick up a crying baby, and you are spoiling it. Don't pick up a crying baby, and you are heartless. It is a lose-lose situation.
- Make major changes in career, family life, relationships, friendships.
I can't remember the other points I had made in my head - coz I am sleepy and tired after a long day - and this is the only time I get online... there you go.. one more point!
So, here you have it. This is what it means to have a baby. Lots of work. No rest. Ok? Now, all of you who have been influenced by my rosy baby posts - you can stop reading now.
For the others - All these hardships are real, yes, and yet, at the end of it, you look at the innocent, trusting, delightful creature in front of you, and all that you can say is, "It's all worth it."
Saturday, November 10, 2007
Friday, November 09, 2007
JustFemme
JustFemme, a women's e-magazine, perhaps the only one of its kind, has been launched today. Do check it out! You are welcome to contribute too!
[And while you are there, look for my write-up too :)]
Feedback about the magazine is welcome. Mail to: justfemme DOT in AT gmail DOT com
Wednesday, October 31, 2007
Special Moments!
*Gushing and mushy Mommy post alert!!*
Some moments can never be captured for eternity. The only place where it can exist is in the mind. But for such moments to exist undimmed in the mind, you need to recall it from time to time - and what is better than to write it down?
There have been many moments I have had with Puttachi, which I know will never come back again - and I wrote a few down, lest I forget. Then I read them and thought, well, let me share it with everybody!
* A baby's touch is so subtle. Really, what is in a baby's touch that is so special?
That tentative, exploring, delicate touch - the soft, tender hands - they touch you, but don't linger. Before you can savour it, the restless hands move elsewhere. But that momentary touch - it is so beautiful.
And when Puttachi grasps my finger, or explores my face, her touch is so trusting, curious, playful - it evokes in me a tenderness I never knew possible.
* When Puttachi falls asleep in my arms, I can sit like that for ages, just holding her and gazing at her. Her eyes are closed peacefully, with her thick, long, eyelashes sweeping her cheeks. The eyelashes are so long that they are sort of entangled with each other.. makes me want to take a tiny comb and comb them out - but then, they would lose their perfection! One cheek is pressed against my arm, and her perfect red lips are moved out of alignment just that bit, because of the squashed cheek. The other cheek is smooth, round, the skin flawless and almost transluscent. It has the quality of a porcelain vase - smooth and shiny, except that her cheek is soft and warm.
* After I give Puttachi her feed, I seat her upright on my lap, and pat her on her back to burp her. With each pat, her cheeks wiggle, and her cockatoo tuft of hair rises and falls comically. It is very funny and I always end up giggling. Puttachi realizes that there is something happening behind her, and tears her eyes away from the object that had in the meanwhile caught her fancy. Then she swivels her head around completely with a Dev Anand-like wobble, looks at me, sees me laughing, and breaks into a wide, toothless grin herself. And that makes me laugh all the more, and I end up squeezing her hard until she squeals!
Some moments can never be captured for eternity. The only place where it can exist is in the mind. But for such moments to exist undimmed in the mind, you need to recall it from time to time - and what is better than to write it down?
There have been many moments I have had with Puttachi, which I know will never come back again - and I wrote a few down, lest I forget. Then I read them and thought, well, let me share it with everybody!
* A baby's touch is so subtle. Really, what is in a baby's touch that is so special?
That tentative, exploring, delicate touch - the soft, tender hands - they touch you, but don't linger. Before you can savour it, the restless hands move elsewhere. But that momentary touch - it is so beautiful.
And when Puttachi grasps my finger, or explores my face, her touch is so trusting, curious, playful - it evokes in me a tenderness I never knew possible.
* When Puttachi falls asleep in my arms, I can sit like that for ages, just holding her and gazing at her. Her eyes are closed peacefully, with her thick, long, eyelashes sweeping her cheeks. The eyelashes are so long that they are sort of entangled with each other.. makes me want to take a tiny comb and comb them out - but then, they would lose their perfection! One cheek is pressed against my arm, and her perfect red lips are moved out of alignment just that bit, because of the squashed cheek. The other cheek is smooth, round, the skin flawless and almost transluscent. It has the quality of a porcelain vase - smooth and shiny, except that her cheek is soft and warm.
* After I give Puttachi her feed, I seat her upright on my lap, and pat her on her back to burp her. With each pat, her cheeks wiggle, and her cockatoo tuft of hair rises and falls comically. It is very funny and I always end up giggling. Puttachi realizes that there is something happening behind her, and tears her eyes away from the object that had in the meanwhile caught her fancy. Then she swivels her head around completely with a Dev Anand-like wobble, looks at me, sees me laughing, and breaks into a wide, toothless grin herself. And that makes me laugh all the more, and I end up squeezing her hard until she squeals!
Tuesday, October 30, 2007
Schmooze Award - And a Tag
Cantaloupe's Amma and Bellur have awarded me with the Schmooze Award!
At first sight, "Schmooze" sounded like Smooch - did they like my blog so much that they felt it deserved a smooch?
Then it looked like "Snooze". Was my blog so boring that they felt like taking a snooze when reading it?
I looked up the Dictionary, and it said -
Schmooze - To converse casually, especially in order to gain an advantage or make a social connection.
Award accepted graciously without any comments :)
And Award not awarded to anybody else. I know, spoilsport - but didn't you know that?
__________________________________________________________________
Bit Hawk and someone called "Life Rocks" (URL?) had tagged me long back for the middle name tag. I kept postponing it coz I don't have a middle name, and even if I did, I wouldn't know what to write. Anyway, here is an attempt - I choose "Shru" as my middle name, and I am supposed to write something relevant to my life with each letter of "Shru"
S - Sweets, or food, for that matter!
H - Hills, and mountains - love them.
R - Reading - a passion.
U - Understanding, up to a point.
Done! Any more tags pending?
Monday, October 29, 2007
Condensed Milk
Every Saturday, I read Vikram Doctor's excellent column in The Economic Times - "Garam Masala", and decide to blog about it that night. The muhurtha, as they say, had never arrived, until now.
Vikram Doctor, in my opinion, is a terrific food-writer. One, he loves his food. Two, he knows his food. Three, he has the knack of writing about it in a wonderful way. You are left mentally licking your fingers at the end of it.
Each time I read the column, I decide to alert my foodie readers about it, but then, as I said, I forget.
But this time, it didn't slip my mind - because this time, he wrote about condensed milk. Yes, that luscious, sweet, rich, sinful, viscous liquid that sends you straight to heaven with each delicious spoonful.
Vikram Doctor says it best -
Needless to say, S~ went out immediately after reading the article, and bought both Nestle's Milkmaid and Amul's MithaiMate. It had been so long, and man, am I enjoying it!
Do read the article. And yes, if you like your food, don't miss Vikram Doctor's column each week. You will not be disappointed.
Vikram Doctor, in my opinion, is a terrific food-writer. One, he loves his food. Two, he knows his food. Three, he has the knack of writing about it in a wonderful way. You are left mentally licking your fingers at the end of it.
Each time I read the column, I decide to alert my foodie readers about it, but then, as I said, I forget.
But this time, it didn't slip my mind - because this time, he wrote about condensed milk. Yes, that luscious, sweet, rich, sinful, viscous liquid that sends you straight to heaven with each delicious spoonful.
Vikram Doctor says it best -
As thousands of children have discovered over the years, condensed milk straight from the can is one of the most blissfully yummy things you can eat.and
Both Nestle and Amul sell their condensed milk as an ingredient for home-made desserts, with recipes often provided helpfully on the can wrapper. I have never really been able to bring myself to make most of these, since good as they sound, they never sound quite as good as the plain product itself.Heh!
Needless to say, S~ went out immediately after reading the article, and bought both Nestle's Milkmaid and Amul's MithaiMate. It had been so long, and man, am I enjoying it!
Do read the article. And yes, if you like your food, don't miss Vikram Doctor's column each week. You will not be disappointed.
Friday, October 26, 2007
Little Snippets
I forgot these little things in the last update. Adding them before I forget.
* Puttachi loves to stand. She keeps pulling herself up to standing position on my lap, and she loves to look at the world from that position.
* She loves it if I make her dance or sway to music in that position. She laughs a lot.
* She can sit unsupported for about 2-3 secs after which she loses balance. She sometimes, supports herself with her arms and sits for quite a long time, nearly 10 secs, then she loses balance again.
* She is fascinated by our hands. She needs no other plaything. She observes hands for any amount of time. While playing peekaboo, if I use my hands to cover my face, she looks at my hands and forgets to play peekaboo. So I have to use a plain white cloth to cover my face for peekaboo :)
* Yesterday she crept forward, and covered a distance of about half a foot. Then she grew frustrated that she couldn't get at the toy in front of her, and bawled until I picked her up.
* I wrote this whole post with her on my lap. What is she doing? Observing my fingers fly across the keyboard.
* She is losing patience. Ta ta!
* Puttachi loves to stand. She keeps pulling herself up to standing position on my lap, and she loves to look at the world from that position.
* She loves it if I make her dance or sway to music in that position. She laughs a lot.
* She can sit unsupported for about 2-3 secs after which she loses balance. She sometimes, supports herself with her arms and sits for quite a long time, nearly 10 secs, then she loses balance again.
* She is fascinated by our hands. She needs no other plaything. She observes hands for any amount of time. While playing peekaboo, if I use my hands to cover my face, she looks at my hands and forgets to play peekaboo. So I have to use a plain white cloth to cover my face for peekaboo :)
* Yesterday she crept forward, and covered a distance of about half a foot. Then she grew frustrated that she couldn't get at the toy in front of her, and bawled until I picked her up.
* I wrote this whole post with her on my lap. What is she doing? Observing my fingers fly across the keyboard.
* She is losing patience. Ta ta!
Tuesday, October 23, 2007
Some more snippets.
Puttachi completed five months today. Its been a while since I did an update on her, so here goes.
* Puttachi bites. And hard. She wants to chew on everything. Everything finds its way to her mouth. If she is lying on her tummy and doesn't have anything else in hand, she licks whatever she is lying on.
Her favourite object to gnaw on is the human hand. If she finds one within reach, she pounces on it just like - just like the predator pounces on the prey in those National Geographic shows. And she gnaws on it like the predator eating off the prey. With equal fervour.
* She dives. And how! Wherever she is, whatever she is doing, her roving eye finds an object, she sets her heart on getting it. In the movie "The Greatest Game ever played", when this champion golfer is taking a shot, everything else vanishes - the trees, the spectators, everything except he and the hole. This kid is like that. When she wants something, only that object seems to exist in the world. She doesn't care about space, distance, height, anything. She just dives. Or if she is on the floor, she pushes her head down, or her knees, or her toes and tries her hardest to move forward and get it. I don't think it will be long before she starts moving forward. And then, Heavens save me.
And oh, why did she want the object that she has set her heart on? For the sole purpose of putting it into her mouth.
* She had the second haircut of her life. We started cutting her hair when she was asleep, but she woke up before we could complete it. So I broke the "NO-TV-for-Puttachi" rule, and switched on the TV. She sat and stared at the screen transfixed, and we finished the job. Now I know why moms put their kids before the TV. For a moment's peace. I have started rethinking my "No-TV-for-Puttachi" rule.
* Shortly after my plea for help, asking you for advice on how to make Puttachi sleep, her sleep habits improved beautifully. "Putting her to sleep" became a non-necessity. If it was her naptime, she just drifted off to sleep while taking her feed. That's it. That simple. But now, suddenly, she is a tad older. And that makes her very distracted. She finishes her feed and cries. Now, its back to square one, trying to "put her to bed". But her night-time sleep habits continue to remain very good.
* She is mine and S~'s daughter all right. She loves her food. After Ragi didn't agree with her, I started her on Nestum - plain rice cereal. I then started adding little somethings to it - Mosambi juice, Dal water, mashed carrot - she loves it. She gobbles it up with pleasure, with the appropriate satisfied noises. It is beautiful and so satisfying to watch her. I can't wait until she is older so that I can give her regular food!
* I can see her personality actually developing. Very active and restless, very curious and enthusiastic, fun-loving, vociferous. with strong likes and dislikes. of course, I don't want to label her, but its fun attributing certain characteristics to her.
* Pictures in books excite her, and as I have already said, music does too. Hail Hariprasad Chourasia for having the ability to calm her at a moment's notice!
* She is such a delight. Just as I think she cannot get any prettier or any more delightful, she does. [Alert! Doting mom!]
* People are cruel. When Puttachi was a new-born and looked like an alien, everybody said that she looked just like me. Now that she has blossomed into a cutie, everybody gushes about how much she looks like S~. Hmph.
* Puttachi bites. And hard. She wants to chew on everything. Everything finds its way to her mouth. If she is lying on her tummy and doesn't have anything else in hand, she licks whatever she is lying on.
Her favourite object to gnaw on is the human hand. If she finds one within reach, she pounces on it just like - just like the predator pounces on the prey in those National Geographic shows. And she gnaws on it like the predator eating off the prey. With equal fervour.
* She dives. And how! Wherever she is, whatever she is doing, her roving eye finds an object, she sets her heart on getting it. In the movie "The Greatest Game ever played", when this champion golfer is taking a shot, everything else vanishes - the trees, the spectators, everything except he and the hole. This kid is like that. When she wants something, only that object seems to exist in the world. She doesn't care about space, distance, height, anything. She just dives. Or if she is on the floor, she pushes her head down, or her knees, or her toes and tries her hardest to move forward and get it. I don't think it will be long before she starts moving forward. And then, Heavens save me.
And oh, why did she want the object that she has set her heart on? For the sole purpose of putting it into her mouth.
* She had the second haircut of her life. We started cutting her hair when she was asleep, but she woke up before we could complete it. So I broke the "NO-TV-for-Puttachi" rule, and switched on the TV. She sat and stared at the screen transfixed, and we finished the job. Now I know why moms put their kids before the TV. For a moment's peace. I have started rethinking my "No-TV-for-Puttachi" rule.
* Shortly after my plea for help, asking you for advice on how to make Puttachi sleep, her sleep habits improved beautifully. "Putting her to sleep" became a non-necessity. If it was her naptime, she just drifted off to sleep while taking her feed. That's it. That simple. But now, suddenly, she is a tad older. And that makes her very distracted. She finishes her feed and cries. Now, its back to square one, trying to "put her to bed". But her night-time sleep habits continue to remain very good.
* She is mine and S~'s daughter all right. She loves her food. After Ragi didn't agree with her, I started her on Nestum - plain rice cereal. I then started adding little somethings to it - Mosambi juice, Dal water, mashed carrot - she loves it. She gobbles it up with pleasure, with the appropriate satisfied noises. It is beautiful and so satisfying to watch her. I can't wait until she is older so that I can give her regular food!
* I can see her personality actually developing. Very active and restless, very curious and enthusiastic, fun-loving, vociferous. with strong likes and dislikes. of course, I don't want to label her, but its fun attributing certain characteristics to her.
* Pictures in books excite her, and as I have already said, music does too. Hail Hariprasad Chourasia for having the ability to calm her at a moment's notice!
* She is such a delight. Just as I think she cannot get any prettier or any more delightful, she does. [Alert! Doting mom!]
* People are cruel. When Puttachi was a new-born and looked like an alien, everybody said that she looked just like me. Now that she has blossomed into a cutie, everybody gushes about how much she looks like S~. Hmph.
Monday, October 22, 2007
200
This is my 200th post. I didn't realize when 100 passed by, and so I thought I would make a big deal about 200.
200. Never thought I could write so much. When I first started this blog, I did so doubtfully, thinking - what will I write about? Apparently, I do have a lot to say.
Coincidentally, it has been nearly two years since I started blogging regularly.
It's been a ball - thanks, all of you - you kept me going. Your encouragement, your comments, and your friendship! So, thank you, to you and you and you.
It has been lovely knowing you all, meeting some of you in person, and getting to know some others better through email/phone. I have met many interesting and like-minded people through the blog, and that I count as one of the greatest advantages of blogging. I will not be exaggerating if I say that right now, I am more regularly in touch with my blog friends than I am with my "other" friends.
Blogging under my real name, and having all my friends and family and family's friends and friends' families read my blog, makes things difficult at times - I cannot spew out everything that's on my mind. But I wouldn't have it any other way. This suits me just fine.
Blogging has another major hazard. Many of my friends keep track of me through this blog, and when I write or call them and ask, "Hey, what's up, been a long time".. they say, "Oh yeah, sorry, I know what you have been up to, because of your blog, and I didn't realize that I haven't kept you updated."
So, you, and I mean YOU. Please close this page (after you have read till the end), open your inbox, and send me a mail. And yes, I mean you. Thank you.
Cheers!
200. Never thought I could write so much. When I first started this blog, I did so doubtfully, thinking - what will I write about? Apparently, I do have a lot to say.
Coincidentally, it has been nearly two years since I started blogging regularly.
It's been a ball - thanks, all of you - you kept me going. Your encouragement, your comments, and your friendship! So, thank you, to you and you and you.
It has been lovely knowing you all, meeting some of you in person, and getting to know some others better through email/phone. I have met many interesting and like-minded people through the blog, and that I count as one of the greatest advantages of blogging. I will not be exaggerating if I say that right now, I am more regularly in touch with my blog friends than I am with my "other" friends.
Blogging under my real name, and having all my friends and family and family's friends and friends' families read my blog, makes things difficult at times - I cannot spew out everything that's on my mind. But I wouldn't have it any other way. This suits me just fine.
Blogging has another major hazard. Many of my friends keep track of me through this blog, and when I write or call them and ask, "Hey, what's up, been a long time".. they say, "Oh yeah, sorry, I know what you have been up to, because of your blog, and I didn't realize that I haven't kept you updated."
So, you, and I mean YOU. Please close this page (after you have read till the end), open your inbox, and send me a mail. And yes, I mean you. Thank you.
Cheers!
Thursday, October 18, 2007
Of Nobel laureates..
So, it turns out that Leonid Hurwicz, the Economics Nobel laureate is known to my Dad's maternal uncle, and he has even had dinner at my dad's cousin's place. That is probably the closest I have come to knowing a Nobel laureate.
Unless, of course, one of you in the future becomes a Nobel laureate. Then I can open my blog (if it still exists and if I remember the url), and show people your comments and say, "Oh, s/he was my blogger pal!" And if I win a Nobel, you can go ahead and flaunt my name, I will not mind.
Ok, back to Nobel laureates. Actually, coming to think of it, I kind of know another Nobel laureate. Or rather, a Nobel laureate's home. My school was adjacent to C.V.Raman's compound (now all you North-Bangaloreans know where I did my schooling!). My classmate in primary school, let's call her Sma, lived in the outhouse in that compound. C.V.Raman's large house, situated in the middle of that huge compound, was uninhabited,, and always locked.
Now this compound contained a variety of trees - jackfruit, mango, silk-cotton, tamarind, and many more - it was actually a mini forest. A beautiful green place in the midst of busy Malleshwaram - we all envied Sma.
I would go to Sma's home to play sometimes, after school or on the weekends. Sometimes our games took us to the main house. We would play in the wide, sweeping portico, with the thick columns and pillars. We would go round the house and try to peep in at the windows. Once, looking at my enthusiasm, Sma's father got the key, opened the doors and let me look inside. It was large, spacious, with a high roof - a typical old-style home. The furniture was heavy, luxurious. The sofas had long, curved handles and printed cushioned seats. CV Raman's armchair was very heavy, dusty, and broken. His writing table was large and foreboding. I sat on his chair, sat at his table, and felt very important indeed.
The memory of that house still gives me the creeps, for some strange reason. It was obviously once a very beautiful and elegant and house, but it seemed to be falling apart - dusty, musty, and echoing with our hushed voices.
So there ends my tryst with Nobel laureates.
My sis and I had once chalked up a plan on "How to win a Nobel". We listed the categories and contemplated upon which Nobel it would be easiest to win. We first struck out Physics, and then went Chemistry. Medicine fell next. Economics wasn't even in the reckoning, as we had no idea what it even meant. All that was left was Literature and Peace.
Literature shouldn't be so difficult - just write a few books and you are good to go. But Peace, we decided, was the easiest. All we had to do was preach peace with zest, and we would be awarded the Nobel. (We were just 11 and 7, please!)
I still have a fascination for the Nobel, and am in awe of Nobel laureates. I am sure some of you are out there rubbing shoulders with Nobel laureates. When my sis got an admit to Stanford, somebody told her that in that University, if she stood in the cafeteria line, the guy in front of her and the one behind her would be Nobel laureates. I don't think that has happened to her - yet.
So, do tell me - have you met/interacted with Nobel laureates? If yes, who, when, how, where?
Unless, of course, one of you in the future becomes a Nobel laureate. Then I can open my blog (if it still exists and if I remember the url), and show people your comments and say, "Oh, s/he was my blogger pal!" And if I win a Nobel, you can go ahead and flaunt my name, I will not mind.
Ok, back to Nobel laureates. Actually, coming to think of it, I kind of know another Nobel laureate. Or rather, a Nobel laureate's home. My school was adjacent to C.V.Raman's compound (now all you North-Bangaloreans know where I did my schooling!). My classmate in primary school, let's call her Sma, lived in the outhouse in that compound. C.V.Raman's large house, situated in the middle of that huge compound, was uninhabited,, and always locked.
Now this compound contained a variety of trees - jackfruit, mango, silk-cotton, tamarind, and many more - it was actually a mini forest. A beautiful green place in the midst of busy Malleshwaram - we all envied Sma.
I would go to Sma's home to play sometimes, after school or on the weekends. Sometimes our games took us to the main house. We would play in the wide, sweeping portico, with the thick columns and pillars. We would go round the house and try to peep in at the windows. Once, looking at my enthusiasm, Sma's father got the key, opened the doors and let me look inside. It was large, spacious, with a high roof - a typical old-style home. The furniture was heavy, luxurious. The sofas had long, curved handles and printed cushioned seats. CV Raman's armchair was very heavy, dusty, and broken. His writing table was large and foreboding. I sat on his chair, sat at his table, and felt very important indeed.
The memory of that house still gives me the creeps, for some strange reason. It was obviously once a very beautiful and elegant and house, but it seemed to be falling apart - dusty, musty, and echoing with our hushed voices.
So there ends my tryst with Nobel laureates.
My sis and I had once chalked up a plan on "How to win a Nobel". We listed the categories and contemplated upon which Nobel it would be easiest to win. We first struck out Physics, and then went Chemistry. Medicine fell next. Economics wasn't even in the reckoning, as we had no idea what it even meant. All that was left was Literature and Peace.
Literature shouldn't be so difficult - just write a few books and you are good to go. But Peace, we decided, was the easiest. All we had to do was preach peace with zest, and we would be awarded the Nobel. (We were just 11 and 7, please!)
I still have a fascination for the Nobel, and am in awe of Nobel laureates. I am sure some of you are out there rubbing shoulders with Nobel laureates. When my sis got an admit to Stanford, somebody told her that in that University, if she stood in the cafeteria line, the guy in front of her and the one behind her would be Nobel laureates. I don't think that has happened to her - yet.
So, do tell me - have you met/interacted with Nobel laureates? If yes, who, when, how, where?
Monday, October 15, 2007
WTH!
The maid's daughter is six months pregnant. And the foetus is male. And how did she find out? The doctor who conducted her scan told her. Yes.
And me? The ultrasound clinics I went to had large posters with foreboding red lettering which warned me that "Foetal sex determination is illegal and a punishable offence". I had to sign declarations that I wouldn't ask the doctor to reveal the sex of the foetus, and the doctor had to sign in the report that s/he hasn't disclosed the sex of the foetus to me. And this is when I was ready, to welcome with open arms, either sex, be it a boy or a girl.
And the doctor reveals the sex of the foetus to the maid's daughter, she from that class of society, who are more likely than us to treat girls as burdens, and would tend to abort female foetuses. And as I gather, the doctor offered the information just like that. No money seems to have exchanged hands.
Did he offer the information because the foetus is male? Would he have done the same if it was female? But if he had the reputation of revealing the sex of the foetus, wouldn't his silence indicate that it is a female foetus?
In fact, when I was expecting, the same maid asked me if the doctor did not tell me the sex of the foetus, and that in her village, they "take a photo" and tell them the sex of the foetus. But this scan was done right here, in Bangalore. Where is this clinic? "There", with a vague wave of the hand is all the information we get from the maid about the whereabouts of this place.
This tells me how widespread sex determination is. And we scream ourselves hoarse about female foeticide.
Update on Jan 8th: The girl delivered the baby yesterday... and it turned out to be a girl!
And me? The ultrasound clinics I went to had large posters with foreboding red lettering which warned me that "Foetal sex determination is illegal and a punishable offence". I had to sign declarations that I wouldn't ask the doctor to reveal the sex of the foetus, and the doctor had to sign in the report that s/he hasn't disclosed the sex of the foetus to me. And this is when I was ready, to welcome with open arms, either sex, be it a boy or a girl.
And the doctor reveals the sex of the foetus to the maid's daughter, she from that class of society, who are more likely than us to treat girls as burdens, and would tend to abort female foetuses. And as I gather, the doctor offered the information just like that. No money seems to have exchanged hands.
Did he offer the information because the foetus is male? Would he have done the same if it was female? But if he had the reputation of revealing the sex of the foetus, wouldn't his silence indicate that it is a female foetus?
In fact, when I was expecting, the same maid asked me if the doctor did not tell me the sex of the foetus, and that in her village, they "take a photo" and tell them the sex of the foetus. But this scan was done right here, in Bangalore. Where is this clinic? "There", with a vague wave of the hand is all the information we get from the maid about the whereabouts of this place.
This tells me how widespread sex determination is. And we scream ourselves hoarse about female foeticide.
Update on Jan 8th: The girl delivered the baby yesterday... and it turned out to be a girl!
Arranged Marriages
Someone came to my blog looking for "How to check out a guy in arranged marriage". Poor girl, she probably found only this - A taxonomy of marriages.
She won't get further help from me, coz I didn't have to go through the motions of an arranged marriage. So let's help other Googlers - if you had an arranged marriage, do tell me how you "checked out" the boy or the girl. If you are single and looking at an arranged marriage, tell me how you intend to decide. If you don't fall into either category, but would still like to contribute your mite, you are very welcome. The comments section is open.
She won't get further help from me, coz I didn't have to go through the motions of an arranged marriage. So let's help other Googlers - if you had an arranged marriage, do tell me how you "checked out" the boy or the girl. If you are single and looking at an arranged marriage, tell me how you intend to decide. If you don't fall into either category, but would still like to contribute your mite, you are very welcome. The comments section is open.
Thursday, October 11, 2007
Attachment
I read this news about a dark-haired Czech couple who had DNA tests conducted to quell rumours about their blond-haired daughter. But as the tests revealed, the baby was not theirs. They went to the hospital to find that there had been a mix-up, and another couple had their daughter. So now, the parents have decided to SWAP their babies after TEN months of caring for the wrong baby.
How heart-wrenching it must be for them! As I always tend to do (bad habit), I tried putting myself in that situation. If it turned out that there had been a hospital mix-up and Puttachi was not my biological daughter, what would I do? Give her up? NO WAY! But then the girl out there was my biological daughter, the one I had carried in my tummy for 9 months! Would I not want her too? I would, I am sure. I would willingly look after both the babies. But of course, so would the other mom! What a horrible situation.
My heart goes out to those parents. By agreeing to swap daughters, they have perhaps done the logical and practical (in the long run) thing. But I cannot bear to imagine the heartache that they must be going through.
I just realized how unimportant a "blood" relation is, when it comes to children. Would I have loved Puttachi even an iota less than I do now, if she hadn't been my biological daughter? I don't think so. My love couldn't have been any less. Then, by inference, it hardly matters whether you have a biological child or whether you adopt a child! So why go through 9 months of pregnancy and increase the population of the world, when you can do everybody a world of good and adopt a child and give her a good home? Is it that "our flesh and blood" is so important?
I would love to hear what you have got to say.
How heart-wrenching it must be for them! As I always tend to do (bad habit), I tried putting myself in that situation. If it turned out that there had been a hospital mix-up and Puttachi was not my biological daughter, what would I do? Give her up? NO WAY! But then the girl out there was my biological daughter, the one I had carried in my tummy for 9 months! Would I not want her too? I would, I am sure. I would willingly look after both the babies. But of course, so would the other mom! What a horrible situation.
My heart goes out to those parents. By agreeing to swap daughters, they have perhaps done the logical and practical (in the long run) thing. But I cannot bear to imagine the heartache that they must be going through.
I just realized how unimportant a "blood" relation is, when it comes to children. Would I have loved Puttachi even an iota less than I do now, if she hadn't been my biological daughter? I don't think so. My love couldn't have been any less. Then, by inference, it hardly matters whether you have a biological child or whether you adopt a child! So why go through 9 months of pregnancy and increase the population of the world, when you can do everybody a world of good and adopt a child and give her a good home? Is it that "our flesh and blood" is so important?
I would love to hear what you have got to say.
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