Tulika, Author at Obsessivemom

09/08/201015/04/2017

You’re the best Hrit

Dear Hrit..

This is my second letter to you after a long time and this one is proving a lot more difficult to write. But I’ve sat on it long enough, no more putting it off.

I’ll begin at the beginning…
I know it’s tough being pushed out into a world full of unfamiliar people. It’s tough finding your feet, trying to make sense of this crazy place and so I do understand why you seek out your sister every time. She is the one constant person in your life, the one person who, perhaps, knew you even before you were born. I understand why you want to stick with your friends or follow your mama around.

However, and now I come to the tough part, you need to realise that no one.. absolutely no one… is worth clinging to or following BLINDLY.. not your sister, not your friends, not papa, not even mama.
Oh yes I know there have been times when you have asked me ‘why?’ and I’ve answered with a ‘because I said so’. But don’t.. don’t accept that, not even from me. Give me a hard time by all means but USE YOUR BRAINS.. always. I know that by giving you this advice I might well be laying down battle lines for the future, but I’m game.

Doing what makes you happy, being yourself is more important than being anyone’s shadow, no matter how wonderful that person is.. doing what YOU want is more important than doing what you see someone else doing or doing what someone else wants you to do. It is tough I know but it’ll make you happier, that’s a guarantee.

So for now…
Don’t hit someone just because your best friend told you to without asking why.
Don’t stop cycling to play ball with your friends if that makes you unhappy.
Don’t wear a kurta pajama just because your sister is wearing her chaniya choli.
Eat your lollipop by all means without waiting for your sister.. if that makes you happy.

Different things make different people happy. Loving others, enjoying their company, trying to fit in are great, but never ever forget to listen to your brains and your heart. Giving up what you like for the sake of someone you love is wonderful but not always, and certainly not if it makes you unhappy or if you don’t think it’s right.
Your own happiness is of utmost importance.. an unhappy person can never make others happy. I repeat myself I know.. but this is important.

ee Cummings put it well…
To be nobody but yourself in a world which is doing its best, night and day, to make you everybody else means to fight the hardest battle which any human being can fight; and never stop fighting. ~e.e. cummings, 1955.

You do pretty well on your own too. When I put you and your sister in different sections I was apprehensive.. yes even I underestimated your courage and your resilience. But you settled in. And you’re learning fast .. coming home with nuggets of knowledge everyday that never fail to surprise and delight me.. You don’t need to depend on anyone for no one is stronger or smarter than you.

I can’t sign off, however, without adding that if you do ever exhaust your courage and need a hand to hold, if you do ever feel lost and need someone to help you make a decision your father and I are here… always… waiting to help yet hoping you never need it.

Love

mama

07/08/201015/04/2017

On story telling

Doctors say one should start reading to the kids from the time they are born.. or even when they are still fetuses. By those standards we were late starters.

Initially of course the days were a haze of formula mixing and nappy changing. The only story that appealed to me was that of Sleeping Beauty.. sleeping for a hundred years.. bliss, I thought.

Which one to tell?

Then there was the issue of which one to tell. What with fairy tales peppered with evil step mothers and sisters, the choice was limited. (Take Cinderella, Snow White or for my mythology crazy kids – the Ramayan). There were fathers who abandoned their children in the jungle (Hansel and Gretel), and scary endings galore. The Pied Piper who walked away with the kids gives even me goose bumps or Red Riding Hood who was eaten up by the wolf along with her grandma.. positively a no no.

So what’s a mama to do?

Well tired of trying to pick and choose I simply proceeded to sanitize the stories. First to go were all stepmothers replaced neatly by ‘naughty aunty/queen’. Kaikeyi was just a ‘naughty queen’ in Dashrath’s palace.

Then went the scary endings.. Pied Piper was given his money and made to bring back the children, a hunter heard Red Riding Hood and scared the wolf away (the grandma also runs away instead of being eaten up).

Lastly I did away with the death sequences… the evil queen in Snow White falls off the hill ‘never to be seen again’, The troll in the Three Billy Goats is ‘carried away by the river’, the giant in Jack and the Beanstalk simply ‘breaks his head’.

Yet there are questions..
From Naisha: In Jack and the Beanstalk the giant falls so, “His mama must have been sad.. she was nice, she helped Jack and still Jack hurt her son.”
This one from Hrit: “When Ravan died was Vibhishan sad?”
And another one from him: “Bad logon ko mar dena chahiye mama?”

The best bet…
… I found were our good old Panchatantra stories. Then there are the Pooh and Dora series which were just perfect.

The doctor says…
The counselor advised me to make up animal stories for the kids. So there are stories about…

A rabbit who used to push other animal kids (for Hrit when he’s naughty in the playground)
A calf who laughed at someone who fell down (for both of them)
A lion cub who learnt to make new friends (for when we moved to Pune)
A teddy bear who is naughty at the doctor’s (to while away time at the clinic)
A pup who wouldn’t come home from play in time (to get them home after playtime)
A Jack story about a boy who is naughty at a birthday party (for when I have to send the kids alone to parties)

However what I’m most proud of is my Cocktail Story.. that’s for the time when Hrit and Naisha both want a story of their choice and there’s time for just one so I give them a cocktail and wonder of wonders — They love it.

01/08/201015/04/2017

MW critical.. is it murder?

Our over ten year old faithful Microwave was murdered yesterday by an egg. Well actually the blame must be shared. The egg …. the early morning rush.. my ignorance .. the family members who sometimes make just too many demands. However nothing counts now. MW is no more.

It all happened during the morning rush while I was trying to prepare breakfast for the three loves of my life. All wanted eggs but one could eat only boiled, the other wanted French Toast and the third said he’d be happy with an omelet. No problem said I.. it was a Saturday, you see, and I wanted them all pampered and happy. And so while I got going with the onion chopping I thought I’d get MW to boil the egg … and bang.. disaster struck.

Within five minutes the egg was blown to pieces taking poor harmless MW with it. As I dashed to the site of the accident I found egg pieces strewn all over. MW looked deceptively alive.. almost as if it would come on at the flick of a switch and start warming my leftovers with a relish. But appearances, as they say, are deceptive and MW it seems is really dead and gone.

Not one to give up on a loved one we called Just Dial for MW doctors and got quite a list. The first one on the list was summoned home. The operation began under our watchful eyes. MW sat there in all its vulnerability with its innards exposed while the ‘doctor’ worked diligently.

“How on earth did so much water get inside?” was his puzzled query as he dried up MW.

‘So that’s where all the water went,’ I thought silently, while my gentleman husband kept quiet about my hand in the murder. Well come to think of it.. it was a mistake — a sad one one but certainly not murder in cold blood.

In any case the doctor hemmed and hawed and tchhed for a long time before pronouncing MW dead. We gave up hope and with tear laden eyes readied to bid adieu when “Wait” said the ‘doctor’ dramatically, “Maybe, just maybe we can do something.” A glimmer of hope. “I’ll have to take him to the hospital and see whether I can revive him,” he said.

And so we wait with baited breath for some good news. Meanwhile it’s cold leftovers and plenty of pan-washing for us.

Come back MW.. we miss you.

30/07/201015/04/2017

Sick bed chronicles

The virus has now has one half of the family in its clutches, one quarter just managed to vanquish it and the last quarter .. is struggling to keep it at bay.

I thought with Hrit Naisha down it couldn’t get worse.. but apparently it could and it did with Sunil going down too and badly. What’s even worse is that Hrit is well and in complete form. He can’t stand being at number three on my list of priorities.

For the past two days he has been running around the house pushing the computer revolving chair (which he insists on calling the ‘wheel chair’), dragging foot mats, toys, dustbins and whatever else it can gather along.. in and out of the balcony and all the rooms. He took great umbrage when I barred him from the ‘sick bay’. Sunil was in such a bad temper I thought he’d get the smacking of his life.

Talking of bad tempers.. Sunil was as grouchy as a bear with a sore head… (except he had a sore head all his own) I felt awful dragging him to the doctors for Naisha’s checkup but it was pouring and I needed chauffering. I reached a minute late carrying a protesting Hrit staright from the school bus stop. Apparently he didn’t want to go to the doctor’s in his school dress.. ” You don’t go anywhere in your school dress. Everyone will see me like this,” he howled, as if that was the end of the world.

By the time we reached the doctor Sunil was already calling me and complaining. “Our appointment was for 1pm, it’s already 1.10, why isn’t the doc seeing us,” he cribbed. In his defence I must add that he was running a high fever himself so it must have been quite an effort getting out. Also he has very little experience with doctors. And so my dear ignorant husband had no idea how long the wait can be.

While I was trying to decide who to pacify between a hugely irritated husband and a howling son, Naisha lay down in the waiting room out of sheer weakness and that set my priorities right. I left the father-son duo to their own devices and headed over to her. Meanwhile Sunil got a phone call and was lost to the world and Hrit seeing that no one was appreciating his tantrum was so wild he proceeded to systematically throw all the shoes and sandals outside the doctor’s waiting room.

Finally I got Naisha’s prescription and sent her off with Sunil while I got her med cert with a howling Hrit refusing to budge from my side. The looks I got from the other patients could have killed a normal human being.. but that I’m not.. I’m a mother to twins.

After we got home and the three sick and/or sulking people were given three kinds of lunches which they didn’t finish (no I’m not complaining even though I slogged over all those special farmaishes.. they are sick.. it’s okay).

I asked the local medical shop to send across medicine and in the melee forgot to ask him to get a bill. The surly husband gave the completely clueless delivery boy a huge lecture on getting medicines without bills. (Haven’t you seen on TV.. govt ads say selling without a bill is stealing… and on and on). I’m sure he’ll disconnect the line next time I ask him for a home delivery.

Then it was the turn of a telemarketing lady to get it from Sunil. All she offered was a loan at low interest rates. Sunil pretty much bit her head off.. What exactly is ‘low’? Do you know simple mathematics? That is not ‘low’ at all. Then she suggested if he could refer friends who needed loans and got a very curt, “Why would my friends come to me with their loan problems? Am I a bank?”

After that there was relative peace with Naisha and Sunil falling asleep and Hrit playing with his ‘wheel chair’ which he ‘drove around’ mercifully quietly.

Another day went by.

Naisha seems better today, should be in school on Monday after one long week at home. Sunil too seems better. Touch wood. I so want the family on it’s feet and out of my way.

27/07/201015/04/2017

Perish the virus

Recovering from two viral attacks is tough.. not one after the other but simultaneously. I have always maintained that Hrit and Naisha never trouble me together, if one is giving me a hard time the other is a model of goodness. This time they decided to make an exception, perhaps just to prove the rule. Trying to handle two four-year-olds is a challenge but trying to handle two sick four-year-olds is total insanity.
The thing about viral is that medicines don’t count. With the dependable Crocin rendered useless I resorted to sponging.
Hrit went first with his fever touching a high at 2 in the morning. When the sponging starts Hrit just gets more verbose.
With Naisha it’s me who needs to do the talking to keep her distracted. She gets quite pathetic with cries of ‘Mama do something’ and her age old ‘bahar chalo’. However, once the fever went down, the water being that Naisha is, she started to enjoy it all and proceeded to sponge herself with gusto.

The challenges that come with the virus…

To remember who has to be given which medicine and who is due for the next six-hourly dose.
To get both kids, who are now not babies by any means, on my lap without one murdering the other.
To cater to food fusses with one turning into a parantha freak and the other getting hung up on khichdi.
To sort TV fights which, though always there, took on a vicious ferocity. (I WON’T watch Ben 10, I NEVER get to watch Ben 10).
To let one of them wear a yellow tee with yellow shorts while the other one chooses a party dress to wear at home.
To get the housework done with the two kids wanting me ‘alone’ with each of them all the time.

Fun huh?

PS: Now I know what made Babar pray to God to give him Humayun’s illness.