No accounting for taste

On our way back from Gir we’d stopped at Rajkot for a day of shopping. While I was busy picking up stuff for the woman population of the family N, round eyed, browsed the Chaniya Cholis.
I have very little to say about her taste in clothes. She can be trusted to pick out the most garish, loud, jhingjhang pieces of the lot. So lost was I in those gorgeous bandhanis that I completely forgot to distract her and she set her heart on one frothy creation. Before I could expressly forbid the buy, she turned to The Husband who she has safely wrapped around her little finger.
And so we came home with the most dazzling of outfits. I was only grateful for the choice of colour.. predictably pink.. a nice pink I might add.
As Holi approached she remembered… “Mama”, she said cuddling up to me, “you said I could wear Chaniya Cholis for pujas and fastabals (festivals). Holi is a fastabal, isn’ it? So may I wear my new one?” Notice the use of ‘May I’ dear friends. Couple that with the most winning smile and of course the fool proof argument. Did I have a choice?
Come evening and we were off on our ‘Happy Holi’ visits. She was of course beyond happiness. Like always we spent some hours deciding how she should drape the dupatta and she finally decided she’d carry it on her hand.

 

That’s how she decided to carry her dupatta

 

Gosh these brothers…

 

…  just won’t let one pose in peace!

As we were standing on the road along came a mother, a total stranger, on a two wheeler. She stopped by me and said, “I’ve been looking for a dress like that for my daughter. Where did you get it from?” I was stumped. Unbelievably enough there really are people who appreciate N’s taste in clothes. Had she been older I’d have certainly got a ‘I told you so’ look from her. For now she preened till she popped.

Oh for a peek!

Hey Q .. I need you to design a special gadget for me. This one will be tougher than anything you ever designed for the Bond man. I need one that would let me look inside the heads of my children. Who ever said children were simple and uncomplicated never did have children. Mine are just getting set to be five and already there are times I feel out of depth. I wish I understood them better……….

Pic courtesy Google pics

Bad night!
I started writing this post after a bad night a few days back when Hrit cried at hourly intervals till the wee hours. He was thrashing around restlessly and talking in his sleep but I couldn’t make out what he was saying. All I could make out was Naisha’s name. After he fell asleep I kept wondering…. What is going on in his mind? Is he having nightmares? What is bringing on these nightmares? I wished I knew. Earlier in the evening one of the older kids gave out a ‘ghost’ scare in a dark corner near the building lift. Naisha was incredibly cool about the whole thing but Hrit’s reaction was way too extreme. He panicked. He insisted we collect Naisha and go home immediately. Nothing I said made him feel better and he spent the rest of the evening sitting with me on the bench. I wondered whether that had come back to ‘haunt’ him.

.. and then the Open House
Then we went for their Open House on Saturday and the need for that device has suddenly become much greater. Naisha’s teacher had a revelation for me. Said she, “The other day I drew a sad face and Naisha made a sentence.. “When mama gets sweets of my brother’s choice that’s how I feel.” She went on to suggest that maybe Naisha was getting less than her share of attention. That was my ‘O My God’ moment.

Am I being fair?
Since the kids were born I was paranoid about not distributing my attention equally between them. Being on my own didn’t make it easy .. I hated handing over one child to the maid during meal and sleep times. When they were babies Hrit was the sick one and obviously I spent more time with him. Yet I was very conscious of it and made sure I spent time with Naisha too. As they grew up and Hrit’s wheezing became less frequent things became better. It’s been a long time now since I gave this issue a thought and now this.

To begin with the ‘sweet’ thing is just not true. However I am trying to look beyond the statement.

  • Hrit remains to be more clingy of the two and still hangs around me. Naisha on the other hand is more gregarious and is often playing with friends while Hrit is at home. When I go to the market it’s Hrit who wants to tag along while Naisha chooses to stay with her friends. Hey come to think of it… it is I who should be complaining of not getting enough of her attention!
  • There ARE a lot of things I do with Naisha only.. crafts, drawing, painting.. Hrit makes an obligatory presence but she’s the one really interested.
So I’m not completely convinced. Yet I do understand that I might lack perspective when it comes to the kids because I’m so deeply involved with them. Certain issues might be more clearly visible to an observant and concerned outsider. I give the teacher’s observation credit. I do realize that…

  • Naisha loves being the centre of attention and needs more attention than most kids not just from me but from everyone. She loves being ‘special’.
  • Also, I have to admit that Naisha is an easy child to take for granted. If both of them are clamouring for my attention, she is the one to say “okay mama you can listen to Hrit bhai first.” And I accept that. Was that unfair? Yes, now I think so. Maybe she was giving in only for my approval (oh yes she does a lot of things to prove herself a ‘good girl’) but wasn’t really happy doing it. Sigh! Well… no more taking her for granted, ever.

Am I reading too much in a simple incident? Maybe, but it’s better this way.

Q, do you see now how desperately I need that device?

This is just the beginning. It’s going to get worse as they grow older and get better at hiding their thoughts and feelings. How will I figure them out then? Will I know how to help them? Is there really something like a ‘mother’s’ intuition which will come to my rescue? Do I have it at all? You see Mr Q how easy you can make my life if you help me out here?

Meanwhile, in case Mr Q fails me, Hrit Naisha, here’s a request — Keep us in the loop please. Even though we might seem like antiquated fuddy duddies we will try really hard to understand you. If you feel we’re messing up, losing touch, being unfair …. let us know. Like this time I promise to give your thoughts, feelings and beliefs as much importance as my own.

The pilot and the airhostess and some news

Last Monday the kids had to dress up yet again.. this time as a pilot and an air hostess. And I found out on Friday. I didn’t freak out, which is so unlike me J. (This doesn’t mean I didn’t crib just that I didn’t go crazy with worry)
I thought I’d simply rent the dresses but..
.. they weren’t available. We found just one pilot uniform which was quite tattered. And listen to this.. the rental was Rs 300, deposit Rs 600 plus we had to furnish proof of residence. Gosh.. are we opening a bank account or what???
so I decided to do it on my own.
It turned out to be great fun. It took me three hours at MG Road scouting for white shirts and pants, a red skirt, red shoes, tie, sash and the very complicated cap and shoulder decorations.  I found it all and enjoyed every bit of it.
Had it not been for the kids I’d never have strayed from the broad boulevard of MG Road. As a relative novice to Pune I’d never given the by lanes a thought. But it’s the by lanes that hold the greatest of treasures. I was almost done with the costumes except or Hrit’s pilot cap and the epaulettes, both of which I thought I’d have to make.
However my BIL, a passionate Puneri, came to my rescue. Tucked away between scores of canvas shoes and photo frame shops in Kolsa Gulli off MG Road is this shop that manufactures police and army uniforms. As I was struggling to describe what exactly I wanted the guy behind the counter said, “Shall I give you what I gave the others?” I sighed in relief.. three cheers to proactive mums who make life for late-latif’s like me easy. And so I came home with not just the pilot cap but the eagle insignia, the epaulettes and a host of other pilot decorations.
Here’s how they turned out….
Naisha decided the pose.. so all credit is hers
The salute
.. and she has to do it too
…then they forget to be pilots and airhostesses
I wish I had more time to scout the smaller shops behind MG Road. However I’m short on time because the restless soul that The Husband is, we might be moving again after just a year in Pune. Yes people that’s my news. This time it’s going to be a BIG move… tentatively down South. That’s as much as I’m allowed to give away now. Within a week things will be clearer and the school/house hunt shall begin followed by the maid/cook hunt. Sigh!

Many pictures for ‘many’

Thursday Challenge: “MANY” (Candies, Crowd, Paperclips, Coins, Collections,…)

Pigeons at Somnath Temple: The kids couldn’t decide whether it was more fun to feed them or chase them
Fishing boats come home: Awesome sight
Masks at a shop in Venice: From the sister. Quite eye catching
On old one: Diyas painted by the kids

Mysterious girl



Pic courtesy
http://kashunutz.deviantart.com/gallery/#/d2vygt8

…. That’s what you are even now despite our many years of togetherness. Each day I strive to know you better, to understand what drives you, what makes you happy, what upsets you. Each day I wake up wondering whether you’ll make it to our daily rendezvous. Each day brings with it a longing, a dread, an excitement, as I wonder… will she won’t she. You have many faces, but scratch the surface and your heart and soul are the same. You are the same.

There are days you arrive…. in style. You walk in with the ease born of long association, as if your arrival was the most natural thing. You fill my home with warmth and happiness. I settle down with my warm cup of tea and contentedly look on as you take over completely. I am mesmerized as you touch my home with your magic. Life couldn’t be more perfect.
Then there are days when you decide to stay away. As the clock ticks I strain to hear the music of the doorbell announcing your arrival. When I don’t I’m devastated. Yet I know you’re doing it for my good. Like the perfect mentor that you are, you want me to learn to survive without you. This is your way of equipping me for disaster management. As I gear up for the day without you my adrenalin starts pumping, the dread changing into determination. I switch into fifth gear with the pickup of the fastest car. With super speed I strive to fill in the void of your absence yet the hope of seeing you tomorrow never dies. You watch me proudly as I learn to take it all in my stride. Do I complain of your absence? No sir, I don’t. I can’t.
You coached me in the art of assertiveness. With the finesse of a master you make most unreasonable demands and watch keenly whether I buckle under the pressure. Many a time I failed you, giving in tamely. Yet you watch and wait … you see me metamorphose into a confident woman not afraid to speak up, to say what she felt, to say ‘no’ emphatically. You test me sometimes. You pretend to stomp off in anger only to return with a smile reveling in your protégé’s success.
You are the reason for my perfect fitness – my flawless personal trainer, that miracle coach who trains by not being there. The tyres have disappeared and my skin is glowing since you walked into my life.
You taught me the importance of family. You’re Indian to the core. No Western nuclear family would do for you. Your uncle’s, dad’s, sister’s, fifth son’s youngest daughter is as dear to you as your own son. She’s family. I’ve watched in awe at your large-hearted devotion as you drop even the most important tasks to run to their side at the sign of the slightest trouble. I know it hurts you to stay away from me but they’re family too and I understand. Not for nothing have you spent precious time training me. Each day I pray for their well-being, for peace in your family so there’s peace in mine for without you my family, my life is incomplete.
Pic courtesy
 http://kashunutz.deviantart.com/gallery/#/d2vygt8

Today on International Women’s Day I salute you Sumitra Maushi, Sophiya auntie, Shanta bai, Puja didi, Meena tai, … Thank you all for teaching me to be self reliant by not coming in every day, for teaching me to say ‘NO’ each time you came up with strange requests, for getting me back into shape as I swept and mopped in your absence.

However I have a confession to make — despite your determined efforts to propel me towards maid-Nirvana my world continues to revolve around you. I still wait to welcome you to my home each day. May this bond never break, may we live happily ever after.