To give or not to give

My mom recently handed me some of my old toys (doll house, cup boards, sofa, doll clothes and many small nicknacks) and as I was holding each of them, I was flooded with their memories buried in some deep corner of my heart and mind.  I shared their pics with my sisters who had kept me company with these and I can’t explain the splurge of emotions that swept away all of us. Though the doll was missing from the doll house, each article of my lost and found treasure reminded me of how I placed it with all these things and how it looked in each of the outfits. I was pleasantly surprised when my little sis kept asking me if the miniature perfume bottles are still there with the dressing table, whether the red and green chaniya choli which she was eyeing for her own doll is intact and if the refrigerator still has the little coloured water bottles and ice trayIMG_20150505_173001

I showed off my priced possession to my kids and they were so excited to play with them. It was like that moment when you pass a family heirloom to the next generation and they feel proud of being their newly crowned owners. It gave me a different kind of happiness to see them play with it and enjoy it like I used to. I don’t know why my mom had kept these toys so carefully all these years and how she felt when I opened the worn out carton and wiped away the dust off them. I don’t know how she felt to see her grandchildren play with the toys her daughter used to spend hours with and I didn’t bother to ask her. I was so consumed in my own emotions to think of anyone else.

But it did make me wonder whether I  should  do the same with my kid’s toys? Am I not depriving them of this amazingly heavenly feeling of touching them and reliving their childhood at a time when probably they would be lost in the hustle and bustle of life?? Today my childhood came alive in front of me through my toys. Should I not make sure that my kids also get the opportunity to go back in their childhood and the toys that they play with will open the gateway for so many such memories.

I, for one, have never kept any of their toys and clothes. Whenever I felt that they are done playing with them and it doesn’t excite them anymore I gave it away to some needy children, however expensive or inexpensive. I always thought that instead of lying in some corner of the house unused and obsolete, it’s better to give it away to some children who will experience pleasure in playing with them.  After all, toys are meant to be played with and not to adorn cupboards or dark corners of the loft. The other motive was to let my children experience the joy of giving, of spreading smiles by detaching themselves from materialistic things. I always tell them be grateful that you have so much to play with and it only keeps on increasing and you must return this kindness by being generous towards the less fortunate,  be the reason to put a smile on some face. My daughter is still learning but my son is not very willing to part with his  possessions, infact, I sneak out old broken crayons, used erasers and I-cant-be-sharpened-more pencils  without his knowledge. Not to forget, every year Diwali cleaning is a big tussel to decide what goes and what stays. So should I or should I not??

I think as I am nearing the end of this write up, I have my answer. I am going to give away the toys like I have been doing and keep, maybe one or two extremely special ones, for my kids as a gateway  for them to go back in time and experience what it feels to be a child again.

And yes, thanks maa, you are the best!!! Thanks for giving me a time machine!!


Sundays come and go

How my Sunday starts
Scene one:
Diaa wake up, it’s 8 am.
After some cuddling, some pampering, some masti with papa, Diaa wakes up. She heads straight to the bathroom, answers her natures call, brushes her teeth, takes a bath, gets dressed. All with mummy’s help ofcourse. Within 30 mins of her waking up, she is all dressed up with even her hair neatly combed. No struggling, no mumbling, no power clashes. The only big task for me now is to get her to eat. For the next 40-45 mins her breakfast will travel from her room to my room to the drawing room to the balcony to dadi’s room, getting stuffed in her mouth before she finally finishes it.

Scene two:
Me:”Pratham wake up, it’s 10 am now. You have slept enough, now get up, it’s very late.”
No response from Pratham
Me:”Pratham didn’t u hear me?? I asked u to wake up.”
Diaa:” mumma, main to kitna jaldi uth gayi na, brush bhi kar li, nhai nhai bhi kar li, main to good girl ban gayi na!!! Bhaiya to abhi bhi soya pada hai”( very cleverly she skips the breakfast part)
Pratham:” ae Diaa zyada mat Bol”
Diaa: ” aap zyada mat bolo”
Pratham :” tu chup kar, sare din bolti rehti hai”
Diaa:” mumma, dekho na Bhaiya mujhe tu Bol raha hai, main Bhaiya ko aap Bol rahi hu to bhi Bhaiya mujhe tu Bol raha hai”
Meanwhile, I pull away his blanket, open the curtains and windows, switch off the fan. After some twisting and turning, some mumbling, some failed attempts to get back under the blanket, Pratham wakes up.
Now he is lying on the sofa, all curled up and tries to reach for the tv remote. But mom is on guard and before he can get hold of it, mom already has them. ( maa ke haath kanoon se zyada lambe hai!!!) “First go and brush your teeth, freshen up and then after eating your breakfast, u can watch tv.”
Diaa: ” main to kitna jaldi uth gayi na, brush bhi karli, nhai nhai bhi karli, Bhaiya to phir se so Gaya” ( again avoiding the breakfast part) and their verbal fight starts again. There is some more twisting and turning, some false crying, some pleading, some mumbling but all in vain. Pratham realises that mom is not going to give up, time to use my brahmastra, this will surely not fail. And in his most heart wrenching, soul stirring voice comes out a quaint “DAAAADIIIIIII” It’s not very loud but enough to reach the ears of his saviour and melt her heart like butter on a hot knife!!!
Again there’s some mumbling, some arguing but this time it’s me who is doing it, after not being able to survive the brahmastra!!! After 10 mins pratham is sitting at his favourite corner of the sofa, right in front of the tv, enjoying his favourite cartoons and dadi is sitting next to him with his Breakfast, feeding him bite by bite.
Breakfast is fed in 10-15 mins. The next two hours go lazily in front of the TV with a few occasional complaints like,
” mumma, Diaa ko bolona tv ke aage se hate”
” mumma, Diaa me mere paon pe paon rakha”
“Mumma, Diaa mujhe laat mar rahi hai”
“Mumma, Diaa ne remote le liya, wo kuch bhi button Daba rahi hai”
“Mumma, mumma, mumma……………
And finally mumma has to switch off the tv and ask Pratham to get up and take a bath. This is the beginning of a new struggle. First it is about sending him to the bathroom and then it is about asking him to come out of it.
When I am asking him to go to the bathroom Diaa says,” mumma, main to kitna jaldi uth gayi na, brush bhi karli, nhai nhai bhi karli, Bhaiya to abhi tak nhaya hi nahi hai” and another round of verbal fights begin.
When I am banging the bathroom door asking him to come out after spending half an hour under the shower Diaa says,” mumma main to kitna jaldi uth gayi, brush bhi karli, nhai nhai bhi karli, Bhaiya to abhi bhi bathroom me hi baitha hai, kitna pani waste kar raha hai, building me pani kum hai na, sunta hi nahi hai” and there they go again.

How my Sunday ends
Pratham and Diaa have changed into their night suits, Diaa had a long afternoon nap so she will be watching tv will papa, Pratham has to wake up next day at 5:45 am for school, so he has to skip watching CID and go to sleep( sometimes even the brahmastra fails!!!) Just routinely I ask him,” have u packed your bag for tomorrow?? Don’t take unnecessary books. Arrange it as per monday’s time table.”
Pratham:” mumma, kal to monday hai!!!! S.St activity hai, Spain ke bull fights ki pictures aur information leke jaana hai!!! Main to aapko batana hi Bhool gaya!!!

Woooow!!!! What a Sunday!!!

The best head massage ever

5th September 2015
Picture this
You are lying in your bed after an emotionally exhausting day hoping to fall asleep inspite of the severe headache preventing you from doing so and suddenly you feel a soft touch on your forehead, the softest, most selfless fingers caress your brow,trying to put as much pressure as possible for a 3yr old, the push is negligent for you but each time she does it, she gives out a cold soothing whiff of breath on your forehead because for her it is a lot of effort. and she is taking this effort to soothe you of your pain and gives you the most amazing and soulful massage ever.The one who is drained is me and the one who put life back in me is my daughter Diaa. She hugs me, kisses me and then in the most gentle and loved tone asks me,”Mumma,ab thik hai? Aap meri pyaari mumma ho na, chalo so jao, main yahan bethi hu, aap ke paas,aapko bhaoo kuch nahi karega,ok,ab so jao.” My eyes fill up with tears and i close them to be the good girl that she wants me to be.

Here I go!!!

Is this true??? cant believe I have my own blog!!! A big thank you to all my friends and well wishers for the praises which they have showered me with. If it wasn’t for you all, I would have never rediscovered my hobby. Thank you dear Anchal for being so enthusiastic about helping me with this. I don’t know how I would have managed without you. Need one last favour from you, untill I figure out how to change my password, don’t be naughty!! Please!!

When I was thinking about a name for the blog, I went crazy. So many lines, words, phrases were cooking in my head. I had almost finalised on ‘It’s only words’, after the popular boyzone track. It was a personal favourite during my early college days. I thought it represents my thought just perfectly, ‘Its only words and words are all I have to take your heart away’. Little did I know that a song that I used to hum for a friend, would become so relevant in my life. Then I chanced upon the word PANTOMIME while helping my son with his studies. It means expressing oneself with the help of gestures, body movements or even music but no words. Since I am using words as my medium of expression, weaving thoughts with a pen, I tweaked it to PEN-tomime, meaning expressing with a pen. My site designer, Anchal agrawal, seemed more approving of this name and hence was born PEN-TOMIME.

With the blessings of my parents and encouragement and persuasion of my friends and little sisters, I present to you a pentomime of my thoughts, childhood memories, encounters with friendship, musings of motherhood and many more aspects which make me the person I am. I hope to continue to entertain you all with my writing and prove myself worthy of the appreciation bestowed on me.