The missing piece in the jigsaw puzzle

Sometime ago in May 2018

I gave my son, Pratham, a 550 piece jigsaw puzzle to rake up his brain and use his time constructively in the summer holidays. His cousin, Nishita, had also come over and they both seemed quite excited with this challenge. Even before they started solving it, they were quarrelling about who will fit the last piece. Obviously, both wanted the honour and none was willing to give it up for cousin bonding. And thus began the quest to solve it to the last piece.

First, they separated the pieces based on their colour. This helped to narrow down the search. Then, they separated the ones that had a smooth side. This helped them form the borders of the puzzle. Then, every piece was tried, turned and twisted to find where it would fit correctly. Each time they found a correct match, there was such an uproar, a sense of triumph that we are getting closer to victory. Apart from those at home, friends from the colony also got involved in this engaging activity and would come over to put in their contribution in the making of Hagrid and his motorcycle ride.

Utmost care was taken to keep all the pieces safe. A corner in the house was dedicated to the spread and everyone was told to be mindful of the puzzle station. The maid was instructed to sweep and mop carefully. The little ones, Diaa and Jenisha, took care to tip toe around the puzzle. Slowly, the puzzle started taking shape. Piece by piece, inch by inch, the children were nearing the last piece. More than halfway through the puzzle, it was found that one piece has gone missing! The children skipped a heartbeat. Inspite of being most careful, one piece was lost! Next, it was mission missing piece. A massive hunt to find it started. All the pieces were counted, re counted and counted again, but it was always one less-549. The sofa was turned upside down, the curtains were given a vigorous shake, the bed was flipped over, the toy boxes were emptied but it was nowhere to be found.

One person who found it extremely difficult to accept this was Pratham. He was just not able to face it that the last piece will always remain unsolved. He kept looking for it for hours in every nook and corner but he was not ready to give up the search.

Finally, I made him sit next to me and I told him,” the piece is lost, we don’t know when it was lost, you tried your best to find it but in vain. So now, it’s time to let it go. We don’t have control over everything. Sometimes, things go wrong, situations get out of hand and desires remain unfulfilled. But life goes on. Life doesn’t stop. This missing piece is a reminder that we tried our best. It’s not always possible to have everything in totality. Ultimately, it’s the effort that counts and not the result. Also, there’s a certain mystery in incomplete, a little thrill, a little curiosity about how it would be if it was complete. Somethings in life are beautiful, even if incomplete.”

We finished the puzzle in the coming few days. But the missing piece had taken away the excitement of finishing it. After all, it started as a quest to the last piece. Both Pratham and Nishita were very happy with the fruit of their labour but the missing piece of the jigsaw puzzle continued to allure them!

GIF credit: Anchal Agarwal

Odd one out

I went for a birthday party recently. It was Diaa’s friend’s 7th birthday. After the customary cake cutting, all the kids made a circle and sat down to eat dinner. The conversation at the dinner table was very animated and seemed like fun banter among kids. It started with how yummy the food was, whose got a big piece of cake and who is finishing it first. Then what started to happen caught my attention. They were playing a game, *odd one out*. In a fun way, they were simply noticing how each one was different from the others.

One boy pointed to another boy and said, “He is the only one wearing jacket, he is odd one out.”

“he is alone wearing green, he is odd one out.”

“she is eating slow, she is odd one out.”

“he is the shortest, he is odd one out.”

“he has got the smallest gift, he is odd one out.”

What started as a game of finding differences had turned into name calling and mud slinging. I was watching the expression of those kids whose name were being called out. They felt confused and awkward. All the other kids laughing at them made them feel uncomfortable. They were made to feel shameful for bringing small gift or being slow or anything else. I was beginning to contemplate a similar remark on my daughter and before i had finished thinking, it was said. A boy pointed to my daughter Diaa and said,” she is wearing specs, she is odd one out!” Ouch!! That hurt! It hurt me and I was sure it had hurt her also. I thought of reaching out to her but I am glad I didn’t. Because Diaa said, “I am not odd one out, I am special!”

Bravo!! I was beaming with pride from inside. On other days, when she is teased by her brother she starts crying. There are days when her spectacles are made out to be her weakness. If she gets in an argument, with her friends or classmates, the first thing to be attacked is her specs. Just one hurtful comment is all it takes to defeat her. There are days when she would come home from a party and say that her specs don’t make her look pretty. Random people I meet, in a nearby shop, at the garden, at the movies, who don’t even know me or my daughter had an opinion about her specs.

“She must be watching too much TV.” “You don’t feed her healthy food.”

“Why do you allow so much time with gadgets?”

” Feed her carrots, feed her spinach, do this, do that,”

uff!!! Sometimes, a 2 minute ride in an elevator would seem like an eternity.

But, that day, at the birthday party, it was different. I don’t know where she got the strength to defend herself. Her bold remark put an end to this mean game and the conversation steered back to the food. Who has got the biggest piece of cake, who will eat more pav and kids were back to being kids.

Dear kids

Dear kids,

Next time you want me to see, smell or taste something, don’t poke me in the eye or shove it down my nose or stuff it in my mouth without my consent.

Dear kids,

If you see me eating alone, don’t assume it’s something you are not allowed to eat.

Dear kids,

You, absolutely, simply, under no circumstances, need to count how many potty you did today and then make me remember the entire weeks count. I can still tolerate your singing but don’t make me do the maths.

Dear kids,

If I say to a friend that her daughter or son is very sweet or cute or talented, it doesn’t mean I don’t find you sweet or cute or talented any more.

Dear kids,

When I go shopping for MY STUFF and you tag along inspite of having the option of being at home with your tv, then bear the consequences. You cant keep crying to go home even though I am not finished!

Dear kids,

When you see me settle down comfortably with a book or newspaper, understand that it’s for me to read and not just hold in my hands while you poke your head in between to read everything before me.

Dear kids,

If you see me enter the toilet, then don’t forget that I will also exit it after my job is done in reasonable time. You can ask about the tv remote, colour box, cycle keys, that you can’t find after i come out. Why talk through the bathroom door?

Dear kids,

I understand the unseen magnetism between you and me which makes you cling to me, hold me and circle around me. That is ok as long as you don’t forget that my stomach is not a bean bag and my feet are not immune to being stamped on.

Dear kids,

When I call you on the phone, I want to talk to you and not just hear you talk to someone else with the phone to your ears and mouth.

Dear kids,

Chocolates are a universal gift and they taste better when shared. So don’t make a fuss if I eat a piece or two or accidentally finish them when you are in school!

Dear kids,

Take this post sportingly. Inspite of all your flaws, mumma loves you to the moon and back!

Rest in peace, Julie

Death is never pleasant, even if it’s just a caterpillar, you chanced upon in your house.

I saw a caterpillar in my house and on the insistence of my little sister, Prerna Bagaria, who has a soft corner for these little insects, i just caught it, kept it in a plastic container(the one you get with takeaway food) and covered it with a thin net for air circulation. I thought it will be a joyful experience for my kids to watch how life unfolds. Prerna, told me to keep some leaves and a marigold in the container and then just observe what is it eating. It would do the same colour potty of what it eats. So that became our mission. Diaa and me would peak into the container every few minutes to check if there are any droppings inside and finally after an hour later, we saw something the same colour as the marigold. I don’t think both of us have ever been so happy to see potty!!

Now that we knew it is feeding on marigold, we gave her just that and observed her.Sometimes she would eat up almost half the flower in a few minutes and Diaa would be so happy to put a new one for her. I instantly told her,”see, that’s how I feel when you eat to your hearts content.” Sometimes, she would hide deep inside and both of us would keep looking for it. Diaa would get so restless that she would turn the container upside down till she spotted it and then heave a sigh of relief!! And I would say,”see, that’s how I feel when I don’t know where you are!” This time she gave me a typical roll of her eyes from behind her glasses and exclaimed,” mummma, stop it!” Ok, I agree I went too far. This is not supposed to be a mom-is-justified-in-her-actions experience. It is for her to see how life takes different shapes.

Now, me and my daughter were feeding it, watching it grow, playing with it. We even had a name for it. Julie.We were waiting for it to metamorphosize and eager to see what kind of feathers will it have. I told Diaa we will let it fly but she became sad and said no. I was very tempted to go on another “see, that’s how I feel about setting you free…” But I controlled my feelings and told her to just enjoy the stages as of now. When she became a pupa, it was like finally we are going right. The pupa was a nice green colour before turning brown. Then Diaa lost interest in it. Because a pupa just stays put, no meals, no potty, no hide and seek, so her interaction became less. And then that was it. Julie never transformed. Her cycle remained incomplete.

I had got a feeling looking at it, that something has gone wrong. It looked very lifeless, still and dead. But I hoped I am wrong. Since I don’t know much about metamorphosis, i consulted my sister who told me to tickle its tail with a feather and the pupa will wiggle or move but alas! I was right. Our little Julie couldn’t survive and we lost her.

I buried her the next morning. It was difficult watching her go. I always intended to set her free once she became a moth or butterfly or whatever she was meant to become. I wanted to see her fly away in the sky, but unfortunately I had to bury her in the sand.Diaa didn’t miss Julie because she didn’t find the pupa stage very exciting. Her interest had diminished with her patience. It was only after 2-3 days, that she asked me where is Julie? Is she a butterfly? Did I set her free without asking her? At one moment, I thought I would say yes. It will be better than telling her that she died. But I said the truth. I told her that Julie has gone to God. She cried a little. She was sad that she couldn’t see her feathers and couldn’t show it to her friends.

That moment, I wished I had not buried Julie in her absence. Instead it would have been so much better to let her say goodbye. I thought I will spare her the pain but I took away a very precious moment from her. I wanted her to see how life grows but I couldn’t have explained death in any way better. If life gives joy, then death is sorrow. We have to embrace both. Life doesn’t always follow the predictable path. Death is harsh, heartbreaking but it’s inevitable, real, constant. I realised that I wanted her to learn detachment by setting Julie free once she turned an adult but I could have taught her the same, to let go and move on, by allowing her to witness the burial.

Detachment in life is important for growth, for new beginnings. Detachment in death is important for peace, for closure.I took Diaa to the spot where I had buried Julie. She said her goodbye and that gave her the closure.

8.5 out of 25

25th January 2020

When I went to my son’s school today for the parents teacher meeting, I was clueless about what was awaiting me. It was just another ptm for me. I knew what he would have scored. My expectations have never been very high for his marks because I know that he is more inclined towards cricket. He beams with joy more when he takes a wicket or two in a match than scoring above average marks in any subject. As I flipped through the answer sheets, I noted down his marks and found myself content with what he had scored. Then, I came to his maths paper. It said 8.5 out of 25. I was stunned. I narrowed my eyes to see if I was reading it correctly. For a second I thought I saw a 1 before the 8.5 making it 18.5, but no, I was wrong. It was 8.5. Just 8.5. I held my head and just stared at it. What do I do now?? How is a mother whose child has just passed his paper expected to behave? Is everyone staring at me?? The teacher must be waiting to meet me. The first thing to get blamed for this will be cricket. Is he the only one to score such low marks? What about the other kids? I peeked into the answer sheets of few other kids, 17 out of 25, 20 out of 25, 24 out of 25!!Where is Pratham? Does he even know his marks? Why didn’t he tell me? Do I meet the maths teacher? What will Manish say? He worked so hard on maths with Pratham. A drop of perspiration roll down the temple of my forehead to my ears. I was deeply overwhelmed with so many thoughts. I just closed his file and sat there waiting for my turn.

I was avoiding eye contact with anyone in that room. There were 2-3 parents awaiting their turn before me. This gave me a chance to get my thoughts together. In an instant, I was taken back to my school days. I had also flunked my maths paper once, in the 6th std. If my memory serves me well, most of my class had failed in that particular exam sparing a few exceptionally brilliant students. I just remember my parents and teachers getting very angry. Other than that, I don’t think it affected me in anyway. Life just moved on. I tried to better myself and that’s it.

So why am I making such a big fuss about his low score? I know how hard he is trying to balance his passion for cricket and his studies. Just one paper doesn’t change anything. He can and he will improve on it.

With these thoughts in my mind, I walked to the teacher’s desk, fully determined to defend him. But, on the contrary, the teacher was very supportive. Not even once did she tell me to stop his cricket. Infact she told me to counsel him that he has to strike a balance between both and he is fully capable of doing that. She also told me that Pratham didn’t get a chance to see his maths paper as he had gone to practice for a match. So she will show it to him next day and also motivate him to give little more time to studies. This simple gesture by the teacher filled me with positivity. I thanked the teacher for her support and went to the playground to look for Pratham.

Now, I was starting to get worried for him. He was expecting to score between 15 to 19. I knew that an 8.5 will be equally shocking for him. And I was right. He was totally stunned to know his score. In the 12 years of his school life, this is the first time he had got such a low score. When he went through his answer sheet, he couldn’t understand where he had gone wrong. I asked him to compare it with a friend who is good in maths. The comparison helped him understand his mistakes and most of them were conceptual and few silly mistakes. The first thing he told me after he got a hold on himself is,” mom, I don’t want to give up cricket. I will work harder with my studies but don’t stop me from playing cricket!!” My eyes welled up with tears.

That moment I understood how hard he is trying to juggle both sports and study. I felt guilty of not being the supportive mom that he could walk upto and find comfort in difficult times. Somewhere, in my pursuit to motivate him to do better, I have probably ended up pressuring him too much to lose his trust. How do I make him feel that I only want him to do good in life, whatever field he may choose? How do I express that I am not at all disappointed?

He met his teacher. She told him not to get disheartened by one paper. She knows he is a capable student and he will bounce back. Then he left for the playground to continue with his practice.

As I left the class, climbing down the fleet of stairs and exiting the main gate of the school, I wondered, how much had I scored as a mother that day? Maybe, 8.5 out of 25!!

No stains, no gains

My kids have a light coloured school uniform as you can see in the picture. Stains and uniform go hand in hand.

When the white shirt was introduced by the school, many mothers felt as if they were being openly challenged to keep it spotless. Some took the challenge head on, some opposed it and some even played safe by buying extra shirts, you know, just in case

Coincidentally, the same year, my son was introduced to the world of pens. He was now in 5th std and was allowed to write with a pen. Even an ink pen!! Can you imagine the scenario?? A class full of students wearing white shirts and having fountain pens!! The white shirt was every child’s weak point as well as strong point. It was the perfect set up to play mischief. Just splash ink on someone and say,”oh! I am sorry, galti se mistake ho gayi!” Or just touch the tip of your pen to the shirt and hold it there for 2 minutes. The shirt will absorb the ink and spread it. Next, you have a perfect round blot of ink. Put the blame on someone else and enjoy the show!! The smallest of quarrels or difference of opinion was settled with the white shirt being the battlefield, the ink pen their ammunition and the stains thereafter were scars of brave battle fought. Slowly, as time passed, new, deadlier weapons were thought of. One of them being pomegranates. Yes, the pinkish red, juice oozing, fruit. All you had to do was take a handful and thump it hard on the back, crushing them with your palm. Or just fill it in the pocket and give it a squeeze. There you have it, a perfect blot of difficult, stubborn stain. The inflictor and the victim, both knew it, that today one mom is going to scream her lungs out when the apple of her eyes comes home not bruised, not wounded but STAINED!!

If the kids were having their share of fun, the moms were not to be left behind. Every now and then, the school mommies WhatsApp group would have at least one mom post a pic of the stained shirt. Sometimes there was name calling, sometimes a general warning to all moms to discipline the kids and sometimes a demand to wash the shirt or replace it. On one hand, the anger was being expressed openly and on the other hand, tips were being shared for easy stain removal. Lemon, vinegar, bleach, vanish and other household things to maintain the whiteness of the white shirt. All in all the white shirt kept the conversations alive.

Personally, I wish I didn’t have to wash off the stains. I wish I could keep them as every stain has a story to say. Stories of mischief, quarrel, struggle,

The first time they tried eating with a spoon and fork, the painting with the sunrise, a match winning diving catch, the clumsy slip while chasing a butterfly, a well attempted sand castle, defending your favourite snack from pouncing friends, enjoying a juicy mango on a lazy summer afternoon,

All these stains are proof that my kids are active, energetic and keep attempting different activities to keep them busy. After all, has anyone stained clothes with gadgets? Just the other day, my daughter was cutting rectangular pieces of paper to make a small pocket diary for herself and she accidentally cut her frock with the paper!! But that diary kept her busy for the next few days. She made a nice cover page, put some stickers, wrote a few notes and felt happy with the end result. So that little snip in her dress was worth the effort she took to indulge in something creative rather than just watching art and craft videos on the mobile.

I have to keep the school uniform clean because it has a lot of dignity attached to it and the students wear it with pride. But I don’t fuss about their other clothes. They have been asked to be careful but it’s not to restrict them in any way. After all, a kid with stained clothes is an active kid with an imaginative mind!! You can’t create masterpieces if you worry about staining your hands or clothes!!

P.S. now that the white shirt doesn’t have as many stains, I wonder what are the kids upto to settle scores!!

Stand to show respect

 

Picture this

I go to drop my 4 year old daughter to school everyday. In her school, I have to cross 4 other Classes before i reach her class of nursery. This particular day we were late. I told Diaa that today you will miss out on the National Anthem, for sure. As we neared the first class, we could hear the faint sound of the anthem being sung. It became more clear at the next two steps and immediately Diaa told me, “Mumma wait. They are singing the National Anthem. We have to stand.” I told her, “you are late for your class. Lets go, you can sing it with your classmates.” She just gestured me with a finger on her lips with one hand and the fingers of the other hand spread out asking me to stand still. We stood there waiting for it to finish. Actually, i was waiting for it to finish, glancing at my watch every 10 seconds. She was singing along, in no hurry. I noticed one teacher and two more mothers standing with us. They must also be passing the corridor and then stood still when they heard the students singing it. It lasted for only a minute and i immediately grabbed her hand to take her to her own class. As we neared the second class, we could again hear a faint sound. The moment we were in front of that class door, i realised that its now this class which is starting to sing The Anthem. We both exchanged one glance and i knew that she wants to wait here also untill they have finished. She told me, “Now this class is also singing. We must stand here also.” I obliged. This time i was also singing along with her. I also happened to notice the students. They were all singing along with the teachers in attention pose. There were a few fumbles in the pronunciation of a few words but most of them could sing without missing out on a word completely. Only a few children, maybe two or three, standing behind, away from the eagle eyes of the teacher, were staring out the door or fidgetting with something in their hand but their lips were in total sync with the rest of the class. Here also, it took us just about a minute to finish the anthem and we again started our journey to her own class. I was already prepared to wait at another class and my walking-as-if-i-am-running steps had slowed down but at the third class, they were just about to finish singing it. It ended as soon as we reached there. Diaa looked at me with a smile and said,”its over here. Come fast, i am late.” At the fourth class, the children had all settled down and were removing books from their bags as per the teachers instructions. Diaa again told me, “mumma jaldi chalo.”

Finally we reached her own class. Her teacher looked at her and exclaimed, “Diaa!! Good morning!! You are a little late!! We just finished singing the National Anthem!! You missed it dear!!”

I looked at her, we both smiled and i thought to myself, did she miss it?? Really?? Naaahh!! Infact, she sang it twice that day!!

On my way out of the school, i was recalling the entire 5-7 minutes journey that i underwent with my daughter. I was amused and smiling to myself when i recalled her image of how she asked me to stand still and quiet just using the gestures of her tiny hands. As i exited the school, two things crossed my mind. The first one was about the supreme court ruling making it mandatory for all movie theatres to play the National Anthem before the screening of every movie show and a few guidelines that came along with it. They say that it will instill a sense of patriotism in the hearts of the citizens. My experience today somehow strengthened my belief that it may prove to be helpful. Sometimes, when we do somethings repeatedly, the action and reaction to it becomes our nature. Like for example, the moment i see a temple while travelling on the roads, i instantly bow my head low, close my eyes and say a silent prayer. And i have seen many people do that because its been instilled in our minds that you need to pay respect to God anywhere you see Him. I think a similar reaction can be expected if people are made to stand in the theatres for the National Anthem. But i also feel that just this much is not enough considering the fact that not all of india goes to watch movies. We need to encourage it since childhood if we really want them to undersand that the National Anthem deserves respect wherever it is played, even if noone is watching us. So, in my opinion, making it compulsory in all schools, colleges and other educational institutions may be a better option to help achieve the desired result.

The second one was about the other three people who were standing with us at the first class. What must have made them stand?? Was it really out of respect or was it because they saw us standing and thought they should stand too or they will be seen as disrespectful or unpatriotic. Would they have stood if Diaa and me were not standing there already?? Maybe yes, maybe no. Like how it happens at a traffic signal. One motorist jumps a red light and many others follow him. Similarly, on a deserted traffic signal where everyone is violating the red light, sometimes there is this one car,bike or activa( like me ) which stops behind the line, irrespective of there being a traffic policeman or not, irrespective of the scorching heat troubling my little one and making those 110 seconds seem never ending and looking at us many others follow suit. What happened in school today could be an extension of this syndrome. Diaa made me stand in respect for the National Anthem and looking at us, three others thought of doing the same. If the supreme court ruling changes the attitude of even a handful of citizens, its quite possible that their patriotism will rub on others when put in a similar situation.

All in all, i think the supreme court is only trying to make us more expressive about our love for our country. The ruling can cause no harm, we have nothing to lose by following it even if we dont stand to gain much.

P.S. In the movie Dangal, the National Anthem is played towards the end of the movie when Geeta Phogat wins her first international gold medal and i saw everyone in the theatre stand up for it. As far as i remember, there was no instruction on the screen to do so but the scene was executed so powerfully that it invokes a sense of pride for the Tricolor and makes you want to stand in respect for it.

Let it flow when you have to

Picture this:

It’s 2:15pm. I went to pick up my 4year old daughter from school.  She was playing with her favourite hand puppets and was happy to see me. On our walk back, she playfully asked me to carry her to the activa. A menstrual back ache made me say no to her.  She requested, I denied, she insisted, I denied, she demanded, I denied. We reached the activa and it was all forgotten. The ride back was full of talks about what happened in school, whether tiffin is finished or not and the usual. In the evening, at about 6:30pm, she again remembered that she had asked me to carry her and I had refused and wanted to be carried now. I told her I will make her sit in my lap while she eats her soup but she wanted to be carried around the house and not sit in my lap. What concluded happily in the afternoon turned in to a tantrum in the evening. She was crying, howling and screaming in my ears sitting in my lap. After some time, I lost it. I screamed back at her. She just gave me a silent gaze startled by the sudden rise in my voice and again started crying. But this time, she was crying out of hurt. I could feel it in her voice. The same girl crying a few seconds ago was getting on my nerves and now the crying of the same girl was melting away my heart. I was angry with myself for not obliging such a small request by her. She only wanted to be loved and I couldn’t fulfill that.  The guilt had set in. I immediately took her in my arms and started carrying her around. All the pain and the cramps were forgotten.  She rested her head on my shoulders and hugged me tightly. The warmth in that hug said so much to me. I was shedding silent tears by now, Happy that she was not crying and guilty that I hurt her. She heard me cry and lifted her head up to confirm if she was right. She saw me crying and started crying again. This time, we were united in our sorrow. She was crying for me, I was crying for her. We both wiped each other’s cheeks and made peace. I gave her a set of crayons and a book to draw and colour. Now she went about doing her business and  I did mine.

All this happened in duration of merely 15-20 minutes. So many emoitons were experienced and so much was said silently but the one thing that was common in this emotional roller coaster was tears. We were both shedding tears. Tantrum tears, hurt tears, anger tears, guilt tears, I-love-you-you-love-me tears, lets-end-this-tears.

Tears have a sweet and salty relationship with the human heart. It is no surprise that nature has chosen this emotion to express our arrival in this beautiful world. A child’s cry is the first sound that falls on mother’s ears.  In fact the crying signifies that all is well and if the baby doesn’t cry then he/she is made to cry. From here begins a journey between the heart and eyes, connected by the watery gland. You feel happy, tears well up your eyes. You feel sad, tears moist your cheeks.  You feel victorious, accepted and successful or you feel defeated, rejected and unsuccessful, tears just show up without taking our permission. Just goes to show that they have a very strong mind of their own and will just arrive unannounced.  Even the LOL emoticon is shown having tears!!

In spite of having such a strong connection with all human emotions possible, tears or rather crying is considered a sign of weakness.  A person with a very active set of tear glands is always an easy target. But I feel otherwise.  I feel tears bind us very strongly. There’s a saying,” a family that prays together stays together.” I say,” a family that can cry together in its sorrow stays together.” What happened between my daughter and me was not the first time. It has happened before and ditto between my son and me. After each incident, we just realised that we love each other way too much to cause any amount of pain to each other. Somewhere it gave a message that your pain is my pain, your sorrow is my sorrow, and we have each other to share the downs as much as enjoy the ups. I don’t know if they understand this now but when they grow up, they will remember me as a human who had shortcomings and who also needed a shoulder to cry on just like they do. And also, I will be there for them should they need to lean on me and wet my lap.

Another aspect about crying which I like is that it really helps to vent out. Sometimes, things and situations are not in our control. They don’t go the way we want them to. It results in frustration, anger, helplessness getting built up inside. As much as you want to fight it and find a solution, you are just not able to see it right. But after you have cried your heart out, the fog seems to clear. You can see things in the correct perspective and work things out without losing your cool.

So, next time you feel like crying, don’t hold back, just let the tears flow when you have to and release the pressure.

Why can’t I have my cake and eat it too?

2nd April 2016

It’s Pratham’s summer break and he was packed off to his favourite aunt’s house in Mumbai on 23.3.2016 for the remaining holidays. My younger one, Diaa, was told that her brother had gone on a school trip with school friends or else she would have been inconsolable about being left behind and not being included in this trip with an aunt and a little cousin sister who happen to be her favourites too!!
On 28.3.16, my mom-in-law whisked her away to join her brother leaving just me and my hubby behind. They planned to return after 4 days. With both my kids off my radar and having full four days to myself, I was already planning on how I am going to make the most of these four days. Lot of things were on my mind, the movies and books I would like to catch up on, friends and relatives I would meet, of course not to forget, 2 afternoons were booked with my beautician in advance. The anticipation of being back to my carefree leisurely days was making me so happy that I could hardly contain my happiness when I bid goodbye to my daughter.
The next three days were absolute bliss. I was doing everything at my will, without any interruptions, without worrying about having to check on my kids, without being answerable to anyone, without being responsible for anyone. I was so relaxed that I didn’t cook even a single meal at home. My hubby was so accommodating that he told me he will eat lunch in the office canteen and for dinner we can order online whatever I wanted to eat!! In fact for someone who has to have a good hot breakfast every morning and who doesn’t like eating out unless its unavoidable, this was a very lovable gesture to make his wife feel loved and to become a part of her happy days. So to return the love, I did make him his favourite breakfast everyday and lunch and dinner happened as per agreement.
Then came 31st march 2016. My kids were going to return today with their grandma. I knew that my carefree leisurely days are coming to an end but I was still happy about my kids coming back. It was also my daughters open day in school. I was full of pride after hearing all the good things told to me by her teachers. I was very eager to share them with my daughter because I knew she would be happy to hear all the accolades showered on her unlike my son who is least interested in report days. By the way, it was his report day too on 26th march 2016, when he was busy holidaying in Alibagh and he has not bothered to ask me anything about his marksheet.
I was thinking about what they would want to eat for dinner when my hubby’s phone rang and he announced that the kids want to stay longer and are in no mood to come back. So the stay has been extended by 2 more days. At this point of time, I thought I will be overjoyed about my vacation getting extended and I will start planning about what to do in those 2 extra days that have fallen in my lap out of the blue, but nothing of that sort happened. I became sad and disappointed. I was really very eager to see them after so many days, give them a tight hug, listen to their stories, their complains, their adventures(ok, this is a little far-fetched, they just went to their bua’s house not some hiking trip!!) I wanted them to come home, running to me and fight among themselves who is going to reach me first!! I wanted them quarrel about whose stories am I going to listen first!! But on the contrary, they didn’t want to come back to me. They didn’t seem to miss me as much as I was missing them. I didn’t want to be the carefree young girl anymore. I just wanted to be the mother of my kids again!!
While I was trying to explain myself that it is just two more days and they will be here sooner than I know and my phone buzzed. I got a Whatsapp written by a mom. It talked about how she as a mother cribbed about her kids habits, messy house, toys on the floor, clothes on the bed, books out of the bag, lights never turned off, doors never closed, half eaten lunches, noisy arguments, etc, etc. But now that her kids were grown and leading their own lives, independent of her, she missed the same things around her. Somewhere, reading this post I got a feeling as if its me who the lady is talking about. I got a taste of what my life would be once my kids grow up, decide the careers they want to pursue, choose the person they want to date or live in or marry, whether we will be in the same city or not or maybe different countries with totally opposite time zones, depending on Skype or Whatsapp or whatever the technology may have to offer for communication!! My house would be clean, everything in its rightful place because the inmates would be no longer living there. No shouting or screaming because the ones who called out for me would be gone. Dinners would be peaceful because the ones who cribbed about the veggies or the spices would be eating elsewhere. I realised I have just another 10 or 15 years with my first-born and a little more with my second born before they also embark on this journey called life. It’s not that I wont be happy for them but suddenly the realisation that they wont need me as much as they do now, is making me feel lonely already!!
On the 5th day since they were gone, I went about all my daily chores, the same chores which were so boring a few days back and I was so happy to not do them. I packed lunch for my hubby, folded the blankets, ironed the clothes, and to my surprise I was enjoying being a wife and a mom again in spite of having the choice of being a i-am-as-free-as-a-bird, maiden again for a couple of more days!! The few days off that I got was definitely a welcome break and I always crave for such opportunities to unwind and get the spring back in my step. But at the same time, I wish time would stay still and I can just start from where I left without losing anything in the bargain!!! I guess this is what they mean when they say,” you can’t have your cake and eat it too!!”
At the time of writing this post, both of them are back in my life and I can’t seem to have enough of them!! Right now they are sound asleep and the calm on their faces brought back the peace in my life!!

Mom, it’s my vacation!!

Vacations, the sweetest song to a child’s ear. Endless hours of playing, unlimited fun and masti, quarreling with friends and then making up because even if one is missing it feels incomplete, lot of planning, instead of mom calling out to come home and study, mom calls out to remind that you do have a home and you need to eat.

My son’s exams got over on 14th march( the last of all his friends)and he has a short summer break before school resumes. This 20 day break is such a relief for not just him but me also. When I packed his lunch that morning and set him off in his school bus, i felt like dancing there itself. My morning jog was also very refreshing since i couldn’t contain my smile and it is said that if you smile while exercising, it releases some chemical in your body which makes you feel energetic. On other days i find it difficult to do so but today i had a reason, no more early morning dabba packing, no more blackmailing my adorable son to sit with his books and study, no more bribing my sweet little daughter  so that she will let her big bro’s books intact. Ahhhhh!!! there was something magical about this morning.

It’s vacation time!!!!! yiiipeeeee!!!

But wait a minute!! vacation also means he will be home the whole day!! Which also means that the leisure i had when he was away in school will be gone!! Blistering Barnacles!!! And what about his frequent fights with his little sister?? I will be more of an agony aunt or  a referee than a mother!! And the constant hunger pangs, the insatiable desire to munch, chew and gulp!!!Billions of blue blistering barnacles!! How can i forget about this? Quickly i remember the various summer camp notifications i got in my local whats app groups and as i searched for them to find something suitable, i realized that they are all the usual ones, art and craft, dance, music, chocolate making, personality development, handwriting improvement, brain development and all the works. Pratham will never agree to any of this. According to him, he doesn’t want to be TAUGHT anything in his vacation time. He wants to do things which he likes. And it could be anything from creating art out of paper boxes or just cycling till it hurts his legs.  Summer classes are boring and it feels like school. Cant argue with that!!

So it boils down to just me and him!!I will have to think up of ways to keep him occupied and entertained so that we can co-exist the coming vacation!! But some ground rules are laid!! He has to wake up in the morning latest by 9, an hours nap after lunch and lights off in the night by 11. His meal times should be constant and if he has any special requests then it has to be told a day in advance.Quarrels with friend will have to be sorted on their own and little sister has to be included in his games if his friends are coming over to play. After some negotiation afternoon nap is traded in exchange for no chilled water,juices and no chewing gum. Looks like I am ready for this.

At the time of writing this blog, its been nearly  a week since his holiday started and so far its been good. There are a few reasons for it. The first one, I very firmly believe that vacation is the best time to introduce healthy eating habits. In everyday life, between juggling school, classes, play time and all that, somewhere nutrition gets lost. Most of the meals are packed and handed over. After that how much is eaten by the kids or it went to the friends, I don’t know. If the tiffin comes home empty, I have to be content that its been eaten. But in vacations, I have the pleasure of seeing them enjoy fresh, hot, home-cooked food and watching them take baby steps towards a healthy lifestyle.

Another observation is that well fed and hydrated kids are easier to handle. Well, this is no discovery that I have made now, after 10 years of motherhood but what i did discover in this vacation is that well fed and hydrated mothers are better equipped to deal with kids and their hyper activeness. So while we all think about what our kids like to eat and plan our meals according to that in their vacation, it’s also a good idea to stack up on some munchies and drinks of our choice. There are times when I feel hungry but have so much on my to-do list that I wish for some quick bites to put in my mouth. Usually i would have got the fried and salty indian snacks like mathri, chakli, bhujia, banana wafers and all that to munch. But since i am on my way to changing to a healthy lifestyle, i got some nuts, dry fruits, chikki, khakhra and fresh fruits of my choice along with my kids preferences and kept them within hands reach, where i can easily just pick them and eat. This not only satiated my hunger but also kept my energy levels up to deal with two kids. Also the food you eat has a lot of effect on your mental health. Switching to a carrot instead of biscuits, helped me stay calm and keep my cool. Also, my daughter wanted to taste everything i was eating. That is an added bonus. She is introduced to healthy snacking just by watching me. I wish i had done this earlier.

Lastly,  this year I didn’t try to influence Pratham on how he should spend his day. I just let him free with his friends and they all decided themselves what they want to play, where, at what time, with whom, etc, etc. In  other words, i didn’t think of controlling his every minute of the day and that also worked wonders on how our relationship was developing. I only expected him to follow the ground rules laid by me which i think are very basic and in turn i give him the freedom to be himself and explore what he likes and what not. This was a welcome change for both of us since he is going to be a teenager soon. Although i feel he is already one.

Lets hope this vacation lays the foundation stone of a friendship between the two of us.