Author: Tulika

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That’s the way I like it

Isn’t it strange how we get used to things? When I first started my post-dinner walks in this new city I used to miss the vibrancy of Mumbai nights. In Mumbai our society had plenty of ‘late-nighters’. When I would come down at ten there would be scores of families complete with kids, out for a walk or to get some ice cream or to catch a late night coffee. I loved the happy shouts of the kids, the dads playing with them, the moms looking on relaxed.

Here our society is full of ex-army men, mostly senior citizens. By 9 the gardens are almost empty.. by 9.30 everyone’s gone. I freaked out a bit when I started my walks with just the guards looking on.

Apparently I got used to it. I didn’t realise when I stopped worrying about being alone, when I started revelling in the peace and quiet, when I started tapping my fingers and nodding away to the tune in my headphones, when I started lip-syncing the songs silently (not discounting the probability of singing aloud too). With just the guards looking on morosely, I came to think of it as my personal walking area (presumptuous, I know).

Then the other night I saw a family walking towards me and I was taken aback. I stopped short mid song and wondered what they were doing down so late. Of course they were just taking a walk like me. Yet, I disliked the ‘intrusion’. I disliked the kid’s shout and wondered why he wasn’t in bed on a weeknight (I know that’s weird but that’s what I did think). I stopped my happy lip syncing and walked in a self conscious silence waiting to cross them at each round.

Since that day the family’s been down occasionally and I’m getting used to their presence. It’s funny .. this getting used to business. Funny how we get used to situations, people and places… at the gym I have a favourite treadmill, a favourite cross trainer, a favourite locker, a favourite place where I stand for my aerobics. And strangely enough I find I have the same people around me during the sessions… so apparently others too have these preferences.

Strange na how we get used to things for no apparent reason.. We have fixed places at the dining table, fixed sides of the bed, the kids have preferred places in their school bus too… Strange, isn’t it.. these inexplicable preferences?

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I hate girls

.. that’s what H has been saying over and over and over again.

It started over a year back when he refused to talk to my mum, asking instead only for ‘nanu’ because apparently he didn’t like talking to girls. It’s just a phase, I told myself.

The other day I met a friend of mine walking her dog. “Is it a girl dog or a boy dog,” he wanted to know. “Girl dog,” said my friend. “I don’t like girls,” said he and thereafter refused to pet that friendly pom no matter how much she wagged her tail. Oh well he’s not into dogs, thought I.

Then he refused to go to dance class. “Too many girls,”said he. He’s not the dancing type (just like me) I thought as I pulled him out of the class.

Then he didn’t want to participate in the annual day because… “Teacher has given me a girl partner. I don’t like to dance with girls. I want a boy partner,” he complained. With about a week to go for the function his complaints have only increased. “Silly stupid girls,” mumbled he as he got off the bus today. “What happened?” queried I. “My dance partner, mama… I told you – she’s a girl na. I don’t like her.” Not again, I sighed. Thinking I should sort this out once and for all I asked him.. “Lazy girl.. sleeping all the time. I get shouted at because of her.” I’m sure at least some of that is not true.

Just as I was re-telling myself he’d outgrow this ‘phase’ soon enough, came the final straw.
Over dinner a few days back says he..
I am going to marry a boy.
Me (trying to play it cool): Why?
H: I like only boys. We’ll have so much fun. We can play all the time.
N (adding her bit as she licks the ketchup off her parantha): I know who I’m going to marry.
Me (Ready now for almost anything): Who is it?
N: V (He’s a dear friend’s son, and that’s a story I’ll keep for another day).
Me: Speechless!
Then two days later H says.. “Mama may I marry Y, please.”.. that’s his best pal.

So well both my kids are ‘settled’ now. Only Y is shifting next session and I’ve to prepare H for his very first heartbreak. Wish me luck guys.

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The results are out…

Measurement time at the gym. It’s like an exam that I want to put away, always.
I’ve lost some weight I know … but they have something called the ‘body composition analysis’ which tells you whether you’re losing weight the right way.

So well.. I was okay on the weight loss front but along with the fat I’ve lost muscle mass … not good at all. It’s inevitable, say gym veterans. But I’m not too happy.. I really need to do this the proper, healthy way. So no more climbing mindlessly on that treadmill/cycle and staying there for ever. Less cardio more weights, pronounced the trainer. More proteins in my diet too. Soy Milk.. yuk plus I HATE weights.

Bone density is down too.. another no no… Calcium supplements on the way.

And the final verdict.. my metabolic age is 50 years… yikes. I need to get younger. But that’s the best part.. you can get younger… yay.

Last word: I’m behind my November target by a few 100 gms. Hope to make it up this month. Walk walk walk. .. eat right, eat right, eat right.

Last last word: Made laddoos today, Naisha’s farmaish. Imagine spending an hour rolling that ghee-sugar-steeped mixture into laddoos and NOT popping a single one in your mouth. Nope that’s not what I did… I did not ‘not pop’.

PS: Can’t get the ‘Kolaveri’ song out of my head. Heard it anyone?

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I am an addict

Another age has gone by since I last posted. And I don’t think I’d have got back but for a post by ~G. Last month the kids gave me a really hard time. After they crashed each night I crashed too.. right in front of the television. As I revelled in the peace I surfed.. aimlessly initially, then I started following some shows, then I marked out some that I would watch during the commercial breaks in others, then I found out the repeats, then I was dying to catch them at all odd hours.. after I was back from the gym, a half hour after lunch, another half hour after I dropped the kids for dance class… Gosh! The trash I watched… shows, Hindi, English, films, news, documentaries… all of it.
I even end up watching shows I’m not particularly fond of them … even if I really dislike them. The other night during an episode of Big Boss I threw down the remote in utter frustration at one of the contestants’ antics and walked off to bed… but I was back the next day wondering what happened after I’d left.
It’s crazy… TELEVISION IS CRAZY… actually… I’m crazy for getting addicted. God knows it’s as addictive as a drug.
Kudos to those who are doing without television. I don’t aspire to that, but ‘go slow’ will be the buzz words now on.
Hope I’ll be here more often.

PS: I still have the gall to restrict the kids to their regular one hour of TV a day. 🙂 How tough it is to be a real role model!

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