All of 4 years old, kuttan fell in love over the summer. 'She is so pretty amma', he said. 'I like her a LOOOT', he said, his eyes widening. He hid under my dupatta and blushed painfully when she smiled at him. 'Why don't you cut your hair like her amma?', he asked, looking down his nose at the few wisps of hair that still cling to my scalp after all the hair pulling. 'Why don't you wear sarees like her amma?'
'She' is his class teacher. The love affair happened over the summer as he joined LKG and went to class, all apprehensive and nervous. June was a busy month for the Bangalore household with Kuttan's new school and little princess's arrival. I was worried about how kuttan would adjust to so many changes at once. As it turned out, I need'nt have. Ms.B smiled at him gently as I led him to class on the first day and kuttan took one look at her and I knew things would be ok, in school at least.
He would come from school and sing Ms.B's praises. If I said anything contrary to her words, I would be summarily shot down. 'You dont know anything amma'. And when we went for the PTA I could see the feelings were entirely reciprocated. Kuttan seems to have shared all his feelings, his joy and sadness and fears with Ms.B. A cheerful, warm young woman who was sensitive to my baby boy's needs and knew just how to deal with all his childish fears and anxieties.
Last week, kuttan came back from school and said 'Amma, I have 2 madams in class now.' The husband and I exchanged glances, fearing the worst. 'Maybe Ms.B is going to leave kanna', I suggested gently. 'No', came the explosive shout. I wisely kept quiet.
Tonight the husband had a call from Ms.B who said she was leaving. She called because kuttan was so attached to her and she was worried about him, about how he would adapt. Could you please explain to him, she asked. What do I say, I thought to myself all the while thinking how graceful it was of her to call in the first place.
Husband and I called kuttan and told him Ms.B was going away. When is she coming back, he asked innocently. She isnt baby, I told him. And watched realization slowly dawn. And tears fill those big, soft eyes of his. Call her amma, I will tell her not to leave, he begged. A long talk followed. About how people sometimes have to go away and new people come and we learn to love them as much. About the need to adjust to changes even though it may be difficult at times. At the end of it we ask, 'So are we ok honey? What are you going to tell Ms.B tomorrow?'
Pat comes the reply, 'I am going to say I love you and don't cry too much when you leave me and go, ok?' Someday, my darling, you are going to find someone who cant resist that charm of yours and who will decide to stay back with you. Forever. Till that day, well, you have your mom and dad.
Monday, November 9, 2009
Thursday, September 10, 2009
Three months with the princess
Dear princess,
It has been 3 months since you arrived. I cannot help thinking about how different your arrival and impact has been on us compared to your brother's.
Kuttan walked into our hearts right royally the minute we came to know I was expecting. As the first baby in the family after a long time, his place as the unchallenged darling of the household was virtually guaranteed. We were young first-time parents rushing to the paed if he so much as sneezed.
You, on the other hand came at a time when we are still coping with a major loss. But for all that,you have made a place for yourself in our home and our hearts. This is the way you have affected each one of our lives:
The husband: I have to admit, this came as a surprise. First, this was a man who swore he would never have a second baby. A man's man. A guy who gets a LOT of pleasure kicking a ball around with his son. When we found out we were expecting, and I was going ballistic wanting a girl,I know he secretly hoped for a boy. Just so that I am hopelessly outnumbered at home. And so that they can all shake their head sadly when they think I am being crazy.
And then you arrived. And your father turned into mush. And you wound him around your little finger, just like that! While kuttan was clearly a papa's boy from day one, you seem to show some allegiance to me, which I must admit, is gratifying. I see this man turn green with jealousy when you bestow one of your gummy smiles on me and do his damnedest to lure a smile out of you. I see the tenderness in his eyes when he rocks you to sleep and I thank God for giving me the wisdom to marry the man.
Kuttan: This is a slightly more complicated relationship, for obvious reasons. He desperately wanted you out of my tummy when you were in it, and now that you are out, he wants you to go back inside! But for all that, he has been an amazing bg brother and you, young lady, are very lucky to have him.
He is the one who comes tearing across the house when you cry. He is the one who commands, 'Check her nappy' or 'Feed her, she's hungry' if you cry for more than a few minutes. He endlessly sngs to you and you are a rapt audience which does wonders for his ego. He is also the one who pulls your feet a little too hard or kisses you on the mouth till you are choking but you seem to take it all in your stride and reserve all your best smiles for him.
Me: For me this is my chance to right all the mistakes I made with kuttan, to relax a little bit, to just let you be while I watch you grow. Except for the first hellish month when you just WOULD'NT sleep through the night when I thought you would drive me out of my mind and I even suggested hiding you under the stairs at night so that I could get some sleep, you have been a remarkably unobtrusive baby and I thank you for that. I don't think we could have handled a new school, a new house, a new project and an overly demanding MBA otherwise. As I watch you budding into a little person with your own personality, I am looking forward to all the many milestones that are going to come.
Have a wonderful first year princess. I am looking forward to the months ahead.
Love
Mom
Thursday, August 27, 2009
Home is where the heart is..
Back after a long hiatus. There is always something very special about one's hometown is'nt it? A place which holds very special memories for you, a place where you leave behind some very special people. A place where more the things change, the more they remain the same.
My earliest memories are of standing on the foot board of my father's trusted green Chetak scooter and driving along D.B.Road to go to my grandmother's house. A rambling old compound which had two big houses, a well an unused shed which held many 'treasures' for us and lots of space all around. Hall was referred to as 'koodam' and the dining place was referred to as 'chinna koodam'.
The house itself was filled with people. People from all generations and from all different branches of the family. People with many different quirks and foibles with my grandmother indulging them all and holding the fort. A house which was home to any distant relative who happened to be passing through. A house that saw a lot of marriages, births and deaths. A house that held us all together even though we lived separately.
Later, as I grew older and appa got transferred all over the country, Coimbatore was still home. The epicenter. The place we rushed back to during every vacation. A town which grew into a big city but retained all its familiarity for my father. And the old house was still overflowing with people. Cousins, aunts, uncles, grand aunts and grand uncles, random relatives.
Appa was passionately in love with Cbe and remained that way right till the end. When appa took the first opportunity to come back to Cbe, both parents were relieved and happy. I was a pre-teen and started building my own bonds with the city. My parents settled and put down roots. Built a house. Made friends within the community. And by this time, the family exodus had begun and people had started moving out one by one till, at last, appa remained the last link to Cbe for the entire family.
I went back to Coimbatore after a long time this week. I expected to feel pain and a sense of emptiness. A feeling of not belonging anymore. A feeling of having moved on. I did feel pain. From the moment I stepped off the train, there were overwhelmingly painful memories of appa all around. But there was also the feeling of warmth. Of having stepped into a comfortable, cozy spot after a long, tiring journey. Of finally having come home.
Coimbatore, I guess, will always be home. A place where people refer to my 2 month old infant daughter respectfully as 'vaanga' because it is the norm of the land. A place where the water is so sweet, people fill bottles of it to take home when they leave. A place where my son gets to carry and play with goats and puppies on the road. Where if I just come out in the morning, people will make it a point to stop by and say a kind word or two. A place filled with memories. My old school. My old college. The place where I met my husband. A beautiful place still left with good, innocent folk.
The heart yearns to leave behind this big city madness and go back into the warm, familiar lap of my city. My city. But will I ever dare to make the decision to opt out of the rat race? Even if I dont, and I grow old in this place, in my heart, I guess Coimbatore will always remain home.
My earliest memories are of standing on the foot board of my father's trusted green Chetak scooter and driving along D.B.Road to go to my grandmother's house. A rambling old compound which had two big houses, a well an unused shed which held many 'treasures' for us and lots of space all around. Hall was referred to as 'koodam' and the dining place was referred to as 'chinna koodam'.
The house itself was filled with people. People from all generations and from all different branches of the family. People with many different quirks and foibles with my grandmother indulging them all and holding the fort. A house which was home to any distant relative who happened to be passing through. A house that saw a lot of marriages, births and deaths. A house that held us all together even though we lived separately.
Later, as I grew older and appa got transferred all over the country, Coimbatore was still home. The epicenter. The place we rushed back to during every vacation. A town which grew into a big city but retained all its familiarity for my father. And the old house was still overflowing with people. Cousins, aunts, uncles, grand aunts and grand uncles, random relatives.
Appa was passionately in love with Cbe and remained that way right till the end. When appa took the first opportunity to come back to Cbe, both parents were relieved and happy. I was a pre-teen and started building my own bonds with the city. My parents settled and put down roots. Built a house. Made friends within the community. And by this time, the family exodus had begun and people had started moving out one by one till, at last, appa remained the last link to Cbe for the entire family.
I went back to Coimbatore after a long time this week. I expected to feel pain and a sense of emptiness. A feeling of not belonging anymore. A feeling of having moved on. I did feel pain. From the moment I stepped off the train, there were overwhelmingly painful memories of appa all around. But there was also the feeling of warmth. Of having stepped into a comfortable, cozy spot after a long, tiring journey. Of finally having come home.
Coimbatore, I guess, will always be home. A place where people refer to my 2 month old infant daughter respectfully as 'vaanga' because it is the norm of the land. A place where the water is so sweet, people fill bottles of it to take home when they leave. A place where my son gets to carry and play with goats and puppies on the road. Where if I just come out in the morning, people will make it a point to stop by and say a kind word or two. A place filled with memories. My old school. My old college. The place where I met my husband. A beautiful place still left with good, innocent folk.
The heart yearns to leave behind this big city madness and go back into the warm, familiar lap of my city. My city. But will I ever dare to make the decision to opt out of the rat race? Even if I dont, and I grow old in this place, in my heart, I guess Coimbatore will always remain home.
Tuesday, June 16, 2009
It's a Girl!!!!!
Little Princess arrived on the 11th of June
Mom and baby are doing fine.
Kuttan is thrilled
Bangalore-dad
Mom and baby are doing fine.
Kuttan is thrilled
Bangalore-dad
Sunday, May 3, 2009
Mastering the Alphabet
It has now been almost a year since kuttan started attempting to master the alphabet. The capitals and the small letters and the cursive. I have not been taking it too seriously and have generally gone with the flow, just letting him learn as much as he does from school while occasionally asking him to read out from newspapers and billboards trying to understand how much he knew. Well the other day, as I went to pick him up from school, he bounded alongside me and burst out with great enthusiasm, 'Amma, E(who is his most bosom pal on earth) and I went to do susu together and were standing in the opposite ends and you know what?? We made an 'X' with our susu'!!!! Ewwww!!! The husband is still grinning looking mightily amused by this shockingly male bathroom behavior. I, on the other hand am going around still ewwwing about it. The fact that he CAN recognise 'X' in any form is scant comfort right now....God have mercy and give me a delicate daughter the next time around! On an aside, I have always wondered how men get to pee standing right next to each other without a trace of shame.....I mean, imagine casually talking shop with your boss over a urinal!! Ewwwwwwww!!!!!!
Sunday, April 5, 2009
The grass on the other side
So I have been temporarily out of work for the last 6 months. A state of affairs which is likely to continue for another 6 months at the very least. Strangely, with each passing day, as this pregnancy stretches on interminably, tempers get shorter and the mercury inches upward and I find myself missing aspects about my working life more and more. Stuff which I miss the most:
1. I miss getting up each day with a sense of purpose and urgency- of things that need to be planned, stuff that needs to be finished.
2. I miss the delicious 5 minutes of sleep I used to get after hitting the snooze button on my alarm one more time. Now, with no office to get ready to go, and amma to fill in for me to do the cooking, there is simply no motivation to get up in the morning...and hence no value for those last delicious 5 minutes of snuggling.
3. I miss this the most....getting dolled up to go to work. I never took my work for granted. Ever. Every single day that I could go to work was a blessing. And I made the most of it. I took my time out deciding which dress I would wear. Neatly ironed cotton salwar one day, trousers the next, crisp cotton sarees on thursdays, jeans on fridays and so on. I would have a competition with myself to see how long I can go without repeating the same outfit.
4. I miss listening to FM as I drove to work. Those few minutes of solitude where I felt comfortably alone, and yet a significant part of the rest of the world of people who were going somewhere and had important things to do.
5. I miss being the first one in my team to go to work and that tense anticipation as I checked my email, waiting for some bugs, some new issue to work, some weird problem that has cropped up overnight.
6. I miss the sigh of relief that came with knowing that everything is right in the world of code that I had written and the leisurely morning cuppa that came after an initial round of mail checking.
7. I miss being a part of the adult world and adult talk shop. The stale jokes, the office politics.
8. I miss feeling hungry by 12.30 and eagerly anticipating my dabba lunch.
9. I miss the rush of adrenaline as I rush to kuttan's daycare early in the evening and the look on his face as I pick him up and we snuggle.
10. I miss being able to talk shop with the husband. Nowadays, it sometimes feels like we are part of two different worlds, with nothing in common.
11. I miss the feeling of power and joy I used to get as I received that sms at the end of every month stating my salary has been credited into my account. There, briefly, it all seemed worth the trouble.
I think the heat and the pregnancy and the lack of purpose are making me a very crabby person. Does anyone know how to beat the summer blues?
1. I miss getting up each day with a sense of purpose and urgency- of things that need to be planned, stuff that needs to be finished.
2. I miss the delicious 5 minutes of sleep I used to get after hitting the snooze button on my alarm one more time. Now, with no office to get ready to go, and amma to fill in for me to do the cooking, there is simply no motivation to get up in the morning...and hence no value for those last delicious 5 minutes of snuggling.
3. I miss this the most....getting dolled up to go to work. I never took my work for granted. Ever. Every single day that I could go to work was a blessing. And I made the most of it. I took my time out deciding which dress I would wear. Neatly ironed cotton salwar one day, trousers the next, crisp cotton sarees on thursdays, jeans on fridays and so on. I would have a competition with myself to see how long I can go without repeating the same outfit.
4. I miss listening to FM as I drove to work. Those few minutes of solitude where I felt comfortably alone, and yet a significant part of the rest of the world of people who were going somewhere and had important things to do.
5. I miss being the first one in my team to go to work and that tense anticipation as I checked my email, waiting for some bugs, some new issue to work, some weird problem that has cropped up overnight.
6. I miss the sigh of relief that came with knowing that everything is right in the world of code that I had written and the leisurely morning cuppa that came after an initial round of mail checking.
7. I miss being a part of the adult world and adult talk shop. The stale jokes, the office politics.
8. I miss feeling hungry by 12.30 and eagerly anticipating my dabba lunch.
9. I miss the rush of adrenaline as I rush to kuttan's daycare early in the evening and the look on his face as I pick him up and we snuggle.
10. I miss being able to talk shop with the husband. Nowadays, it sometimes feels like we are part of two different worlds, with nothing in common.
11. I miss the feeling of power and joy I used to get as I received that sms at the end of every month stating my salary has been credited into my account. There, briefly, it all seemed worth the trouble.
I think the heat and the pregnancy and the lack of purpose are making me a very crabby person. Does anyone know how to beat the summer blues?
Sunday, March 22, 2009
I am back!!
Not to sound like Shwarzenegger in Terminator but - I am back!! I could say I have been terribly busy with career and home,have been travelling around the world, have been sweating it out besides the husband in his quest for knowledge a.k.a his ill-timed MBA but none of it would be true.
The truth was I was
a. too much of a lazy ass to actually sit down and type.
b. I was licking my wounds in private and was too chicken to reach out to anyone.
c. I can't be too sure but I think it also has a little to do with the condition I am in.
Life is funny. Yes, yes I know you have all heard it from me before but I cannot say it enough. A year back my biggest dilemma and bone of contention was whether or not to have another baby and the fact that we couldn't watch Friday night movies anymore because of the husband's MBA. Then 6 months back my world came crashing around my ears quite literally as appa passed away. When they took him away, I sat down and begged him for a sign, any sign, that things are going to be ok. My mind refused to comprehend that the man who had just a few hours ago been gently teasing me and laughing with me was gone forever. That I would have to do without him for all eternity. That he could slip away in front of my eyes and I could do nothing. I begged appa to show me a sign that he is still around somewhere, watching over us. That there is hope that there will be a hint of normalcy in my life again.
Everyday I would get up and look around the house, go through his stuff looking for anything that could be construed as a sign that he was trying to tell me something. None were forthcoming. We moved back to Bangalore with amma and things went from bad to worse as she fell into great depths of depression and had to be hospitalised, not once but twice. I was in serious danger of losing both my parents. I was at the edge of the abyss and knew it will only be a matter of time before I went over.
And then our miracle happened and I found out I was pregnant again. And just like that, I got the sign I was looking for. The baby is due in June and I am thrilled. I cannot help comparing the two pregnancies. When I found out I was pregnant with kuttan, I was probably the most fussed over mom in this side of the continent. Amma and appa immediately travelled to Bangalore loaded with goodies. I went off to Cbe during the 7th month of my pregnancy and spent the rest of the time goofing around. Things are quieter this time. More subdued and sober. I am busier and have more responsibilities weighing on my mind.
But, for all that, this baby is no less a miracle than the last one. While kuttan's pregnancy was all saccharine sweet, this has a bittersweet feel to it. This baby has come to tell us that life goes on and as old members leave, new members join the fold. A vaccum is created but a new space in your heart is lit up with love...and hope. My father's sisters were sure it was my father coming back. 'I told you', said my aunt. 'He can't go anywhere that fast...he couldn't leave us like that'. It gives them great comfort to believe that and I get some happiness from that. But for myself, I see appa sitting somewhere up there, looking down at us, and pulling all the strings, just to give me a sign that things are going to be ok.
The truth was I was
a. too much of a lazy ass to actually sit down and type.
b. I was licking my wounds in private and was too chicken to reach out to anyone.
c. I can't be too sure but I think it also has a little to do with the condition I am in.
Life is funny. Yes, yes I know you have all heard it from me before but I cannot say it enough. A year back my biggest dilemma and bone of contention was whether or not to have another baby and the fact that we couldn't watch Friday night movies anymore because of the husband's MBA. Then 6 months back my world came crashing around my ears quite literally as appa passed away. When they took him away, I sat down and begged him for a sign, any sign, that things are going to be ok. My mind refused to comprehend that the man who had just a few hours ago been gently teasing me and laughing with me was gone forever. That I would have to do without him for all eternity. That he could slip away in front of my eyes and I could do nothing. I begged appa to show me a sign that he is still around somewhere, watching over us. That there is hope that there will be a hint of normalcy in my life again.
Everyday I would get up and look around the house, go through his stuff looking for anything that could be construed as a sign that he was trying to tell me something. None were forthcoming. We moved back to Bangalore with amma and things went from bad to worse as she fell into great depths of depression and had to be hospitalised, not once but twice. I was in serious danger of losing both my parents. I was at the edge of the abyss and knew it will only be a matter of time before I went over.
And then our miracle happened and I found out I was pregnant again. And just like that, I got the sign I was looking for. The baby is due in June and I am thrilled. I cannot help comparing the two pregnancies. When I found out I was pregnant with kuttan, I was probably the most fussed over mom in this side of the continent. Amma and appa immediately travelled to Bangalore loaded with goodies. I went off to Cbe during the 7th month of my pregnancy and spent the rest of the time goofing around. Things are quieter this time. More subdued and sober. I am busier and have more responsibilities weighing on my mind.
But, for all that, this baby is no less a miracle than the last one. While kuttan's pregnancy was all saccharine sweet, this has a bittersweet feel to it. This baby has come to tell us that life goes on and as old members leave, new members join the fold. A vaccum is created but a new space in your heart is lit up with love...and hope. My father's sisters were sure it was my father coming back. 'I told you', said my aunt. 'He can't go anywhere that fast...he couldn't leave us like that'. It gives them great comfort to believe that and I get some happiness from that. But for myself, I see appa sitting somewhere up there, looking down at us, and pulling all the strings, just to give me a sign that things are going to be ok.
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