Heart upon my sleeve

  A couple of days back I saw a spider in the bedroom, above the door to the bathroom, looking all innocent and harmless. I believe creatures on the wall have been put there by God for one specific purpose – to jump right when I am below them. I had to sprint and jump to cross into the bathroom every time ensuring I wasn’t in harm’s way for more than a split second! Then it disappeared. The only thing scarier than a creature in the room, is the sudden disappearance of said creature. After around two days I had almost put myself at ease hoping he had probably found a better home with my kind neighbors, when it came back; in the bathroom this time. I had to shake and whip the towel every time I used it – lest my new roommate be lodged in it. Meanwhile my existing roommate, the man who promised to be with me in sickness and health thought this was “funny” and refused to do anything about it. I told him it was either that spider or me in the house. I swear he looked like he was weighin...

My annoyance meter had been reaching its upper limit for the last two weeks. First, for the sprouts salad my 13 yr old boy made a face that said ‘yucks’. Next, tamarind poha was labeled ‘disgusting’. Finally when the lauki sabzi was called ‘gag worthy’ I lost it. He was clearly the only one having a problem with the food ‘cause the other members of the family were enjoying it. The problem with the boy is he has a problem with Indian vegetarian food. Give him chicken marinated in gobar (cow dung) and I know he’ll lick the last bits off.  As a house rule, I don’t accept food being called bad. It is ok to not like something but you can’t call it bad. When you say you don’t like it, it’s about you. When you say it is bad, it’s about the food. I reprimanded him; told him he needs to be thankful for the food he gets. “Nah, I don’t like it, so why should I be thankful? I’d rather make my own food,” he replied. “Perfect,” I said. I declared I wouldn’t be cooking for him till he apolagize...

20 years later, the memory is still vivid. He sat on a Neelkamal chair, rocking gently on the wobbly hind legs while I worried of what would happen if he tripped and fell. I wouldn’t be able to control my laughter then, would I? His right leg was rooted firmly in a Bata slipper while his left leg was folded in a lap resting on the other. He massaged the resting left foot, plucking the cuticles around his big toe with his fingernails. I could see him peeling some off, playing with the barked skin turning it into a tiny ball, until he got bored and flicked it to the ground. I hid my disgust and tried to distract myself. The pedicure continued. He spoke with authority like he was a Vijay Deenanath Chahuan. Question followed question, and with every passing moment I felt more uncomfortable and hid deeper into my shell, like a nervous tortoise. The next day they called to say the Kundali did not match, a common excuse when the ladke-vale were convinced the skin color didn’t match (their exp...

On 23 rd  April, we heard the news that the lockdown would be eased from the next day. This would mean we would finally be able to venture out a bit. That day would also be the 35 th  day, since we had stepped out of the building; the farthest we had gone to, being the trash chute on the same floor - and  oh boy, was I happy every time it was my turn! I enjoy my evening walks and for long time now, my daily 3 km walks covered walking from the bedroom to the living room, then to the balcony and back in repetition. I often felt like a lion pacing in his cage back and forth, the only unidirectional view of the world being what I saw from my east facing balcony. It would be so good to finally see the sunset. I imagined what it would be like when the day to step out would finally arrive. I saw myself dancing my way out of the building like the girl from the Cadbury's ad who ran onto the cricket field to meet her lover. Come D Day, the Avengers assembled in f...

It lay in a small corner in the bathroom cabinet – unwanted and forgotten. A long time back when we lived in the US, and my son was a co-operating toddler (yeah mom’s of toddlers, you heard it right. Wait till your sons become teenagers) , I would use it to avoid an unnecessary quarterly expense. And here it is again, all dusted and brushed , ready to make it’s mark again – (drum roll) The family clipper! Now as much as I looked forward to using it, I knew I would face some resistance when it came to the boy – now 12 yrs old and having a strong opinion about who would trim his long, unkempt locks. It reminded me of the sheep shearing session we witnessed on our recent trip to a farm in New Zealand.  It would be physically impossible to handle the boy this way now. I had to find another way. I tried emotional blackmail - “How can I kiss your forehead every night with all the shabby hair in the way?” Didn’t work. Pure blackmail – “You want me to make the brownie...

Game of Thrones (GoT) is a lot like Modi. It has a huge following, it is popular world-wide, and it’s Bhakts just can’t stand the fact that someone may not like it.   I agree there must be something to it, that it garners world-wide popularity. You don’t become a world-wide craze just like that! But why is it so hard to accept that it’s just not for everybody! The man in the house has been a huge GoT fan for the last 4 years. 4 years back he watched the first season online. Then binged watched on the next 3 so he could catch up with the current season at the time. I could see the admiration in his eyes – like he has seen the Taj Mahal– “ Vah what a masterpiece has been created!” He kept coaxing me to follow it too so he would have someone to discuss, analyze and predict with, at the end of every episode. I was, during that time, doing my 4 th rerun of FRIENDS. I passed. Slowly everyone that I was friends with, had become a GoT fan. I sat quietly at dinners with the f...

I met a South African lady recently for work. The original plan was to meet in a coffee shop. A really bad sand storm meant the plan had to be changed, so I suggested “Why don’t you just come over to my place and we can discuss work over some hot masala chai.” “Perfect!”, she replied. After the work was out of our way, while we discussed life and food, she asked me if I, like every other Indian woman, had a ‘Spice box’ in my kitchen. “Oh yeah,” I said.  As I showed the contents of each box, she looked at me amazed.   “So, you use all of these every day?”, she asked curiously. “Most of them, yes.” “That’s a lot of spices!” “Oh, wait till you see the other Masalas that are neatly stowed in the fridge door,” I said, opening the fridge. (Thank God I had cleaned it recently 😉 ) “See, these are not used every day. But for example when I make Dosa and Sambhar..” “Dosa – those crispy pancakes with spicy lentil soup, right?” I smiled. “Yeah that spicy ...

In November last year I planted my chilly plant. In a few days it flowered, and for many more days after that nothing happened. I waited and waited some more, but it bore no fruit. I worried why? For some reason the flowers were not pollinating. I read online that chilly plants are self-pollinating, so I blew gently on them so as to displace the pollens. Two days and still nothing.   Then one site suggested I use a small coloring brush to gently move the pollen closer to the stigma.   Again, didn’t work. ☹ Then finally one evening, there was a big thunderstorm (I know, very filmy - “Toofan aya” type, right?) And lo, ‘Anther aur stigma ka milan hua!’ My chilly plant finally bore fruit. To my surprise it wasn’t the green chilly I expected. The baby chilly was plump and yellow and grew facing heaven – but it was unique and it was mine. To think of it, gardening is so much like parenting – Patience is the key! Every plant grows at it’s own pace. Some are just late b...

It has been a hectic morning as the father is out early for a meeting and the little but precious help that I get from him during that peak time is unavailable today. The snack boxes and lunch boxes have been packed. I have gulped my bowl of cereals. The girl has thrown a tantrum because I promised I would pack a bottle of Tang and have ‘conveniently’ forgotten! The girl has been dropped at the bus stop. The boy has been walked to school in what I would not describe as a pleasant walk (blame the rising heat). I have pushed myself to walk again to the gym and workout for a good 45 minutes. I walk back home, exhausted from the extra weights I pushed myself to lift today. I walk back home, where I know the kitchen sink will be full of the dishes, bowls and the everyday omelet pan. The clothes have not been folded yet. And the next load is ready to go into the washing machine. Our new dining table will be arriving today so the old one will need to be cleared before that.  I l...

The only super heroes I knew till last week were Spider-man, Superman and our  desi  Krissh. “Ignorance is bliss”, they say. My kids would discuss Loki and Fury like they were our next door neighbors. Often the man in the house would join the discussion too. My only hopes were pinned to my daughter but she’s turned out to be one who would rather watch an action movie than come bracelet shopping with me. So it was pretty much one against three. “What’s the big deal, anyway,” I thought and I decided it was time to take the plunge. So when Marvel came up with the ‘Civil War’ movie I said, “Well, why not? I’ll come to the movies with you.” After all I wanted to be part of the family activity too. The three looked at me speechless, like they did when they saw Bucky alive in Part 2 (Yeah, I know that now). They knew this meant a lot of hard work, but they were ready and so was I. It was decided that to bring Mommy up to speed it was important she should watch the first two...

On one hand we have the Maharashtrians, especially the Punekars, coming together, not like they do at 4pm outside Chitale Bandhu Mithaiwale, but this time with their pens as swords, to slam Bhansali’s Bajirao Mastani.  On the other hand we have Bhansali and the film fraternity who stand by the movie in the name of ‘Creative liberty’. Whose side am I on? Doesn’t matter. No one cares. Will I watch the movie? Hell, yes! I have even watched Humshakals in the theater. My tolerance (a very popular word these days) for low IQ cinema is very high.   Bhansali justifies that when the audience comes to watch his movie they would want entertainment and he is giving them just that (a biopic on Sunny Leone would have been more appropriate for that purpose, IMHO, but that’s besides the point). And then, this is his style – Grand sets, a love triangle and a dance sequence with the leading ladies. His movie should have that Bhansali stamp, right?! So while I read the amusing WA and FB ...

“America is a land of immigrants”, they say. About Dubai they say “It’s a land of expats”.  I would think immigrants and expatriates were synonyms. Until now. The Oxford dictionary defines an immigrant as someone who comes to live permanently in a foreign country. An expatriate on the other hand is someone who lives outside his native country. The main difference you would think is the thought of being ‘permanent’. Could be. Yet, I see so many Indians returning back from America, either willfully or just because their visa had expired. On the other hand I know of many Indians living in Dubai for close to 20 years. The H1 and L1 visas are called non-immigrant visas. That itself takes away the ‘permanency’ from the word. If they are not intended for permanent immigration why are they not called ‘expat’ visas? Could there be a racist connotation, I wondered? Looks to me, there is. When white folk/westerns work outside their country they are called expats. When Asians/Africans ...

A year has passed since I wrote this blog -  http://heartuponmysleeve.blogspot.in/2013/01/the-chess-mess.html . (It was a time when chess was a game, not a contest.) After seeing my son's interest in the game, we enrolled him in a chess coaching academy three months back. Before we knew it, he was selected by his coach for a district level tournament. Since this was my first time as a mother of a competing child, I have to admit, I was unprepared. A day at the tournament meant playing back to back matches throughout the day. It meant a tiring day for me and him. Most parents there seemed far more experienced in this. At the end of the day I won’t say I learnt much but I did observe a lot. The hardest part was seeing a child loose; anybody’s. One came out, eyes down, saying he lost. One came out with just a thumb’s down. One came out looking out for her mom or dad with a look that said it all. It caused a pang. A parent consoled a child with an “It’s ok.” When the child ca...

The two words I have for Adlabs iMagica, the theme park near Khopoli, are - ‘Distinctly Indian’; and I mean it in a good way. Rides: Every ride/attraction at iMagica, I have seen before at one theme park or the other. But never before have I seen it with a beautiful Indian touch. Mr. India reminded me of The Simpson’s ride (Universal) but the fact that we were helping Mr. India fight evil Mogambo made it so much more appealing. If Soarin (Epcot) made me proud to be associated with California, ‘I for India’ based on the same lines, gave me a bird’s eye view of My India. From Kashmir to Kanyakumari it covered the beauty of my country, making me so proud I had goose bumps at the end of the show. The ‘Wrath of Gods’ reminded me of ‘Songs of the Sea’ (Sentosa) – the elements of nature working in harmony – this depicted in a mesmerizing show with water jets and pyrotechnics.  Rajasaurus is Jurrasic Park (Universal) in Hindi. Then there were the usual roller coaster rides with Nit...

7 reasons why I can feel my 7 year old is no longer 7 1.  She no longer whines and wins, she argues and wins. 2. She thinks all boys including her brother but excluding her dad, grandads, Hrithik Roshan and Ranbir Kapoor are STUPID. 3.  She thinks Disney princess and Barbie Tees are childish. But she's still not gotten any interest in the Hannah Montanas or Justine Biebers 4.  When she sings Gangnam style she lowers her voice between the words 'Hey' and 'lady', almost muting the S word. she then tells me she thinks this is a 'cheap' song. 5. She has a pair of high heel shoes in which she walks comfortably. 6. She watches the  'Sound of music' with me and enjoys it. And then we sing 'raindrops on roses' together. 7. When I am driving her to school, she turns off the radio and says, "mumma let's do some gappa-tappa (chatting) ".  Happy 8th birthday daughter-turning-dear-friend Tanisha.

I’m angry, I’m upset. I want my ‘adhalpad’ (Like Druv, the Pole Star’s, ‘Permanent and indispensable position’ in the sky). I feel like the unfortunate fool who stood near the door in a busy Mumbai local train, being pushed out onto the platform when it wasn’t his destination yet. “Stop, wait, I don’t want to get down here,” he said, but no one heard. So he took the next train. “This time, I’ll go and stand safe at the other end,” he thought.  Little did he know that at the next station, the platform was on his side. And fate was not. He was at the door again, resisting the force that heartlessly pushed him down. The force was stronger and he had arrived - at the wrong place again.  He was a hopeless optimist though. “This is not such a bad place, you know. You could stay here,” said a stranger on the platform. But he just smiled and walked away. He did not want to be there. He wanted to get back on the train; some train. But there was no train. He ran from one platform to...

I was cleaning up my kids’ wardrobe; segregating their clothes - winter clothes, Goodwill clothes, play clothes - when I started observing. Only about 40% of clothes had been utilized a 100%. No surprises that these were the ones that were easy to iron or needed no ironing at all. And they were all dark in color.  Also ironically, the least utilized ones were the ones that looked really good on them.  These were the save-it-for-special-occasions clothes that had eventually ended up in the uselessly-outgrown stack.  The hand-me-down pile going out of the house was really small. Most of my boy’s old jeans were ripped near the knees. Most of my girl’s jeans, though 3 sizes smaller now, she still wore – as Capris.  Talk about forever size zero! The girl’s side of the wardrobe had encroached onto the boy’s. (Who hasn't gone to get a blue shirt for their son and bought three new dresses for their daughter along with it?)  For the girl, the inter...

Valentine’s Day, Mother’s day, Women’s day - men and women are pouring their hearts out on how great being a woman is. Unfortunately for men, there is no such day. Here on Women’s day I pen six reasons why I feel sorry for men. My women friends would agree and say “I know”. My men friends would say “So?” (They wouldn’t really care). 1. No one talks about how great they are, how wonderful they are. No man ever inspired a poet. Even the lyricist of a sitcom who had two and a half men to write about could come up with nothing more than just “Men men men men, manly men men men” .. repeated 5 times. What’s more to write? 2. Men are always under social pressure. They can’t cry their hearts out, they can’t ride a Scooty Pep, they can’t wear baby pink.  3. They can’t be scared of spiders or roller coasters. 4. They can’t eat a bucket of ice cream or shop till they drop and feel better. 5. They can’t be a ‘mom’.  6. They can’t say “It hasn’t turned out like mom’s” and still get anothe...

When my husband planned to go on a all-guys trip to Vegas this is what he had to sign-  1. iPhone should be switched on and in your pocket at all times. The ‘Where am I’ app should be active at all times. 2. What happens in Vegas cannot stay in Vegas. A complete account in direct narration or video recording format must become available on arrival. 3. Though 5 shots of tequila may make you think otherwise, remember and act your real age. 4. Know when to stop – drinking. And otherwise too. 5. Always remember there’s a wife at home who loves you more than anything else in the world. Ok, cut the crap. Always remember there’s a wife at home taking care of the children - children who are capable of driving her crazy to the limit that she is capable of murder – your murder! 6. Remember that all your credit card transactions will be monitored. So don’t act smart! 7. This home is run using uncountable coupons, deals and trips to the Dollar store. So remember that the money in your...

I thank my kids for bringing to life the otherwise boring game of chess. I have never been a chess fan; I don’t think I can do both- think and keep quiet- for minutes together. My little one had already ‘learnt’ how to play, thanks to an eBook on the iPad.  Two weeks back at a store when he forced me to buy the game I was terrified that I would now have to play. But this is when going through 2 labors pays off. Having 2 kids who can now play with each other is a big advantage when you want to escape the scene. I convinced my elder one that Chess was a wonderful game and soon she was on board.  Since then playing chess has become their favorite pass time and watching them play, mine. This is how the game looks like (Mr. V. Anand please do not read). The game starts with a mini fight on who gets White and who gets Black. Tanisha acts the big sis in most cases and accepts Black.  Kapil starts aggressively with all his pawns charging forward as if they were all Su...