Life is a kaleidoscope...and I love to explore as much as I can. Here's life from my spectacle...Follow me for my take on books, food, movies, travel, parenting, relationships, social issues and anything interesting I come across…Bienvenue!
Throughout my
growing years, I teased my mom for one thing – whenever I would fall sick or be
in pain, she would start crying. I remember once when a dog had bit me, on our
way to the hospital, mom was crying more than me. She had heard how painful
anti rabies injection was and she was scared about how I would tolerate the
pain. As I joked that she looked more like the patient than me, she said, “You
will understand my pain when you become a mother.”
Mom left me few
years ago, but her words have echoed in my mind several times ever since I
became a mother…
After my delivery,
when my intravenous cannula was removed, I rejoiced thinking, “The pain is
over!” Little did I know a new challenge awaited me – of witnessing my baby in
pain during vaccination!
As the date for
the next monthly vaccination drew near, anxiety gripped me...
The initial
mandatory vaccines were administered by the pediatrician while I was still bed
ridden. But, as the date for the next monthly vaccination drew near, anxiety
gripped me. The mere thought of the needle pricking my baby’s soft skin and the
imaginary sight of my little angel wincing in pain gave me goose bumps.
Like
all new moms, I too have lost track of how days become weeks, and weeks months.
When a festival is around the corner, my elder sister or my MIL act as
reminders, suggesting the bare minimum rituals I should follow.
This
morning, as sonny boy and I went to the park for our daily dose of Vitamin D, I
was delighted to see a burst of yellow. Women dressed in yellow, yellow flowers
shouting to be picked up at flowers, the familiar freshness in the air and Pandal
with Ma Saraswati idol in the colony school – I didn’t take a moment to realize
Basant Panchmi – Saraswati Puja is here!
While
my family doesn’t practice any ritual as such, apart from wearing yellowand
preparing sweet yellow pulav, Basant Panchmi occupies a very special place in
my heart. Having spent 12 years in a Bengali dominated school; the festival has
been a special occasion each year. After all, this was the only day in the year
when we could wear the dress of our choice to school instead of the boring
uniform! Unlike most kids who save the best dress for birthdays, girls in my
school dressed their best on Basant Panchmi. The three day long celebrations provided
us the much awaited break from classes, freedom to dress up as we liked, lot of
fun, amazing Bengali sweets and bhog, and much needed blessings from Ma Saraswati
before the final exams would haunt us!
A Day Before
A
day before the festival, all eyes would be trained towards the school gate as
we waited for Ma Saraswati idol to arrive. The moment we saw the tempo, we
would leave everything and rush to the foyer. The entire school echoed with “Bolo
bolo Saraswati Mai ki Jai” as we welcomed the goddess with flowers, songs
and impromptu dance!
The festival
For
us, this was the day of freedom, fun and festivities! Our usually over
protective parents gave us the luxury of giving the school bus a miss. Instead,
we girls took our sweet time to dress up our best and arrived at the school on
our own, in groups. The security situation wasn’t as sorry as present, so the
authorities let open the gates of the senior wings and one could enter and
leave school premises at our own wish. For teenagers of a girl’s school, this
was nothing short of living the college dream once a year! The senior girls
would seize the opportunity to flaunt the best sarees and imitation jewellery,
even as the eyes of senior teachers scrutinized the depth of their blouses!
Best part would be the Pushpanjali time, when each one of us would pray to Ma
for good marks and a bright career! Sounds of “Bolo bolo Saraswati Mai ki Jai”
would fill the ramparts as those who waited for their turn took to dancing and
singing! Wish we had mobile phones with cameras back then! The alumni also took
this occasion to take blessings from Ma and thank teachers for shaping up their
careers so well.
Morning
gave way to the noon in no time and the aroma from the makeshift kitchen in the
classroom signalled that the Bhog was ready. Our teachers displayed their
culinary skills as they pampered us with the most delicious Bhog – the traditional
Khichuri! After Bhog, we would dash to grab our boxes of Prasad which contained
an assortment of the best Bengali sweets one could think of!
Awwww! I miss my school!
As
we progressed to senior classes, the later part of the noon became hangout time
with friends at Connaught Place before we returned home.
Visarjan
This
was a moment that came heavy on our hearts as the thoughts of Ma parting left
us teary eyed. Moments after the tempo left the school premises, taking Ma
away, we would keep looking at the gate with gloom. Then the teachers would
lovingly ask us to return to our classes and be good students till Ma returned
next year.
More
than a decade after leaving school and more than a thousand kilometres away
from school now, I still feel the fragrance of flowers and incense sticks
afresh in my mind. As I recall those wonder years, I pray Ma Saraswati for
blessing my little one with knowledge and creativity the way she has been
generous to me.
To,
the Goddess, the mother, and the power – Bolo bolo Saraswati mai ki Jai !!!
Sharing
few pics of my visit to the Alma mater few years ago
Ours was an arranged marriage.
Unlike majority of my friends who boasted of love marriages, their “I Do”
stories and lot of PDA (Public display of affection), mine was a rather shy affair. The only aspect I could
boast of was that unlike poles attract, for we were poles apart yet we
felt the sparks enough to say yes after just half an hour of meeting! Like most
arranged Big Fat Indian weddings of our times, our “I Do” was a rather shy
moment in front of our families. As for PDA, well before we could even break
the ice, we were married, almost like a miracle!
So here we were, a newly married
couple, trying our level best to know each other and bridge the gap between
those unlike poles. As a new bride, I was in the “impress your hubby” mode,
whether by whipping up lip smacking meals, dressing to kill, or charming him by
my creative attributes.
One morning, sitting on my desk
and sipping on my morning cuppa, my mind threw an amazing idea of impressing my
cute, lovely and shy hubby. I used to send a Good Morning mail with an
inspiring thought to my team, few friends, boss and super boss every morning.
As I was drafting the Good morning mail that day, I thought, “Why not add HIM
to the mailing list?” I knew he was the intellectual types. So, with all good
intentions of impressing my hubby and starting his day on a beautiful note, I
marked him too in the mail and hit the “Send” button.
Within seconds, I started
receiving the usual replies of appreciation and Good morning wishes from my
colleagues. But my eyes were desperately looking for this one name in my inbox,
while my fingers promptly kept hitting the refresh button. “Would he have liked
it, or thought it as yet another forward mail in his inbox?” I was curious to
know the reaction.
My wait was short lived, for
after few minutes, my eyes finally spotted what they had been looking for. It
was a reply from him. He had loved the mail and replied, “Loved it baby, just
like your cozy cuddle this morning!”
But, before I could even recover
from recalling that morning “moment” we had, I was disturbed by a “Hmmm…cozy
cuddle” from the next workstation! I was awakened with a start. Was someone
peeping into my PC? No.
A moment later, my eyes went wide
with shock looking at the mail, as if they had witnessed the sun rising from
the west!
My loving hubby, impressed by my
gesture didn’t waste much time in seizing this moment of praising his wife.
However, it so happened that in a hurry to shower his love, he selected “Reply
All” option instead of “Reply”
The rest, as you can all guess is
indeed a memorable moment of my life!
His debut attempt at PDA was read
by my friends, team, my boss and to my horror, even my super boss! As I saw my
friends share naughty smiles and girls say “Aww, so romantic”, I felt like
forcing my tomato red face into the PC screen. A moment
later, my mobile flashed with his number. The poor thing had realized his mistake and apparently tried to recall the mail. But the arrow had already left
the bow!
After a moment of silence on both
the sides, suddenly both of us shared a laugh!
He - It just happened, I swear!
Me -Yeah, I could make that out
He – They must be teasing you na!
Me – Hmmmm (Going super conscious
with all eyes on me)…they find it too romantic (almost whispering)!
He – But I loved it!
Me – What? (Whispering, with my
face going cherry red by now)
He – Your morning cuddle, and oh,
uh, the morning thought as well!
Me – Well, what was the thought by the way?
He – Ummmmmm
And we both burst out laughing!
The ice was melting faster than
we had expected. A true soulmate is the one with whom we can share a good laugh,
I had heard. This funny PDA moment proved it as well!
As I
write this review, Mr. Hubby gives me a mocking smile. Often my liking for
old forgotten Hindi movies earn me the title of an alien from the old
generation. But I really wanted to write about this one, and by the end of this
post you shall know why.
I
discovered this movie few days ago as I was discussing the good old times with
Papa when mom used to sing me this lullaby.
Papa
was quick to insight me that the same movie also has many famous songs
including one of my favourites, Shola Jo Bhadke
This
was enough enticement for the movie buff in me and so I decided to watch this
movie the same night.
Like
all old movies, this one too talks of dreams and aspirations among poverty.
Pyarelal (Bhagwan Dada) who lives in a small rented house with his family,
eats, sleeps and drinks theatre. So much is his passion for theatre that he
even daydreams in his office and gets sacked for lack of seriousness at work.
Those were the times when acting and creative pursuits weren’t looked high upon. As expected, he gets thrashed by his father for being a burden on his
family. His only pillar of support is his younger sister Bimla who believes in
his dreams and encourages him to follow his instinct. But have dreams ever
helped counter poverty and hunger? Circumstances force Pyarelal to leave the
house, leaving a crying mother blessing him success.
The
big bad world of showbiz treats Pyarelal like any other struggler is treated –
with rejection and disrespect. However, destiny takes him on a different track
upon his chance meeting with Asha (Geeta Bali). The simple and clean hearted
Pyarelal is able to make his way in Asha’s heart and is soon seen fulfilling
his dream of a successful actor.
Amidst
all the glitz and glamour, he is reminded one day of his promise to his mother,
that he would return home one day when he becomes a successful actor. However,
destiny again plays a cruel game. While on one hand, Pyarelal’s family faces a
storm of troubles, the theatre company finds it best to keep him away from
his poor relatives, else he might not drift away from the world of theatre.
Whether Pyare is able to keep his promise to his family and maintain his
stardom is for the viewer to watch and find out, but the movie touches you for
its sheer simplicity and pain of a common man.
It
was also a treat to discover that many songs of this movie are still
afresh in our minds as the golden classics.
Trivia
Did
you know this movie was the 3rd highest grosser of 1951? You might
also wanna read about Bhagwan Dada who once had a 25 room sea facing bunglow in
Juhu and a fleet of 7 luxury cars, one for each day of the week, but died
amidst poverty in a Dadar chawl. Albela is the movie he is best known for.
It’s that time of the
year again when Rajpath looks as fresh as a new bride and Rashtrapati Bhawan
resplendent with the lights of glorious 67 years of a proud republic. India
celebrates its 67th Republic Day!
For many, it’s #thattimeoftheyear
again, when the tricolour ensemble in their wardrobes sees light of the day; when
VIP passes for the parade are more sought after than #OnePlusOne invites;
when expensive Silks and Pashminas get ready to be flaunted by Mrs. Who’s Who
at VIP pavilions of India Gate; when patriotic songs are remembered to be
placed as caller tunes, when the boy on the traffic signal selling flags is
finally granted his wish; when Selfie sticks get ready to give a perfect #SelfieWithTricolour
& when our social media profiles get buzzing with #ILoveMyIndia!
Phew!
For few, #ItsAllAboutLovingADayOff!
When I was still in school,
my sister who was pursuing her journalism got an interesting assignment. They had
to visit Republic Day Parade and informally ask spectators the reasons that
drew them to Rajpath – was it patriotism or just a nice way of celebrating a
day off? Republic day celebrations at school for me meant composing and
reciting poems and speeches, which I couldn’t have done unless I felt it in me.
So, I told my sister my predictions of the survey outcome. However, the results
were a far cry from my expectations, for most people in general pavilions said
they were there for the lovely tableau and flypast! Of Course, they were able
to express themselves honestly in the absence of cameras and in the cover of
anonymity. Well, this was years before mobile phones and social media were even
born! It was a shock for me, the simple school kid, for we celebrated
Independence Day, Republic Day, Freedom Fighter Birthdays etc with much
enthusiasm in the innocent confines of our school!
Ah! The good old #AgeOfInnocence!
While last year saw us
all swelling with pride at India’s #ObamaMoment, this year has been very
different. Many words have been added to the common man’s vocabulary - #Intolerance,
#Tolerance, #AwardWapsi, #GharWapsi, #Bigotry,
#Casteism etc.
I am a common man
woman with limited vocabulary, so I only understand one word - #Insensitivity;
towards each other, for only then could have people been so selfish to ignore
welfare of others for their vested interests. From “Man is a social
animal”, the social has been brutally eaten. Mind It! This isn’t something
that has happened this year, we have witnessed enough of this before too and I
have blogged about few instances of #Shamelessness that irked me (The Guest Who wasn't spared, Wake Up, One evening in an auto, Letter to Santa from a Delhi Girl, Love Thy Neighbour, Delhi Nautanki, Musings of an old Dilliwala) . For
starters, insensitivity begins with people ignoring a dead man on Gurgaon
Expressway and stopping only to capture his pics for their Facebook shares…#Shameless.
Then there are people I have met during my weekend trips to Vrindavan who wouldn’t
even care to donate had Section 80G of Income Tax Act not existed. Of course,
good Samaritans walk this earth too, but the #SelfishnessAboveEverything
still trends.
Meanwhile, the #SelfieWithTriColour
witnesses a new high score, as does visitors to India Gate & Central Park.
As I sing this song
from my childhood to my little one
I wonder where we are going
wrong, for we are the lights that light up the nation.
Big words are for big
people. Confused between welfare of state and welfare of their vested interests,
they are busy scoring points in the publicity match. Biting more than they can
chew and then chewing their words hurriedly like a gum is their past time,
which most commoners are too common to make sense of.
For We, The people, it
is as simple about #BeingSensitive; The Big people towards us and us
towards each other. We are shouting to making ourselves heard amidst noise of
their #TugOfWar.
Still waiting to find
your voice? Go, take a #SelfieWithTricolour and think about a genuine
caption #Straightfromtheheart.
Till about 3 pm the day before, All
Was Well in my house. The little one was playfully engrossed in his toys;
as was the newbie mom in her laptop. Then suddenly, one sneeze changed all
dynamics!
Acchooooo!
The little one sneezed with such
a force that I left whatever I was doing. This wasn’t a normal sporadic sneeze;
this one came with dirty souvenir for my little one that his newbie mom rushed
to wipe. “Now how on earth did this happen?”, I pushed myself to think. 3 layer
cloth – check, Cap - Check, Socks –
Check, Cozy Room – check. We hadn’t even gone out in the garden that day! Then
from where did this uninvited guest come?
I immediately made a SOS call to
my MIL and made notes so quick I had never made even during my college days! I
have often heard elders criticize modern moms, who rush to the doctor at a
sneeze of their little one. Not wanting to become one of them, I decided to try
MIL’s advice, but it was just too much to possibly execute!
By the time Mr. Hubby returned
home (which was coincidentally early that day), little S and I looked like
troubled passengers of a stranded flight. We both dashed to him for comfort. A
sleepless night later, the next morning, we were sitting among many other
coughing, sneezing little souls at the Paed’s clinic.
Had someone from my parents or
in-laws called, I would have sounded like a failure, for I had indeed rushed to
the doctor at what was regarded technically as just few sneezes. Mr. Hubby
however, convinced me that as educated, modern parents, we were indeed being
proactive to take professional advice before the situation worsened.
But, the words “Weak, Failure,
Modern” echoed loud enough to be ignored in my mind. So, the moment our
turn came, I took total charge of the conversation. Before the doctor could ask
us her usual questions, my monologue had already begun; giving a detailed
account of what we did, what we ate, baby poo, pee, precautions we took and
home remedies tried in a jiffy. After I was done, I gave a little relaxed, triumphant
smile; the way we do after we give our best shot during campus interviews! It
was now the moment to be recognized as a caring, good, wise and
efficient mother who had tried her best (add to this synonyms and more related
adjectives and you know my feelings so well!)
Instead, I heard something like “R-E-L-A-X”
(Oh I looked relaxed, didn’t I?). “You –Are-A-Mom-Now.
First-Learn-To-Stop-Being-paranoid”. “You can’t keep your baby in a
Kavach & Kundals” Lesson learnt – No matter how much you tried, it was
impossible to get 10/10 from a teacher, doctor and an experienced mom (my paed
is also a granny!)
My triumphant smile died in the wake
of this new addition to the to do’s. So I have to learn to get less paranoid.
But C’mon, this is my baby & I am Mother India. Can you imagine Nirupa Roy,
Durga Khote, Nargis, Achla Sachdev, Kirron Kher, Kamini Kaushal or any onscreen
mom looking calm and composed when her Aankhon Ka Taara (Apple Of her
Eyes) gets nebulized?
But doctors only know the
language of medicine, so it was futile to argue. We collected our medicines,
paid the fee (for something which as per my dad, common sense and homeopathy
would have cured) and came home as a happy and hopeful trio.
A typical Mother India is ready
to barter her child’s trouble for his happiness and well being. However, some
wishes get granted too quickly, with the mother getting the trouble even before
the child is fit and fine. By the next evening, another big “Acchhooooo” roared in
the house, this time by the mother! Yes, my wish had been granted, but now both
of us were the victims of cold, thanks to something called virus!
Am I a melodramatic mom? Yes, in
bold italics. But, somewhere behind layers of tension, concern and love lies
just a simple compassionate new mom who wants to be somewhat as good as her own
mom was. After all, every girl idolizes her mom for they stand like a rock between us and troubles even when we see
tears of concern rolling down their cheeks.
Leaving you with pics of these
amazing onscreen moms we have grown up watching.
The
inspiration for this post came few days ago after a telephonic conversation
with my mom in law. As I was discussing my daily challenges faced while
managing the baby and the hacks I have developed, she chuckled and said, “I am
very impressed with you and your little one. I am glad he has been able to
teach you overnight, what I had been trying for 6 years!”
My
initial reaction was a mix of shock, anger and confusion, for I didn’t know
whether to take it as a mere compliment or a backhanded compliment. Since I
have a great rapport with her, I dismissed the latter option however, it was
too thought provoking a remark to be forgotten.
And
so, I began to think what is it that motherhood teaches us, that nobody else
can –
Priorities
and altruism
Being
the youngest of four children in my family, altruism was always a distant
concept. My wishes would literally get fulfilled before I even completed the
sentence and the whole family doted on me. Since I was the first daughter in
law of the family, the trend continued after wedding as well, as everyone
showered me with gifts and attention. There are things I could never have compromised
on – sleep, my blogging time, that favourite TV show and even my favourite dish.
Many people close to me have been victims of my ire the few times they
mistakenly disturbed me in the middle of writing a post.
