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Five Tips to Holi-Proof Yourself!

Tomorrow is Holi. 

Either that thought has you jumping out of your chairs, readying your colour and pichkari and deciding your strategy or it has you scrambling to look for a safe place till it’s the day after.

I am a bit of both. Half my friends know the truth – That I’m s*** scared of Holi. The other half think I’m this fearless Holi player just because they see me each year drenched in multicoloured hues. Should the two groups meet, they’d never agree they’re talking about the same person.

This post is for Type 2 people – the ones who desperately look for an invisibility cloak to get through the Holi madness. There’s something about the Holi spirit that imbues the riotous revellers with much too much courage. That very forbidding expression you have – the one that says “I’m way above this juvenile stuff”? Well put it away – it won’t work. Believe me. I’ve tried it.

So what do you do?

If you are the non-social variety you have hope. Find a safe place, preferably on some haunted, desolate, deserted island, horde those gujhiyas and hide away till the day is through. 

However, if your friends are anything like mine they’ll probably be planning to dig you out just as assiduously as you’re planning to hide away. To begin with, dip yourself in colour before you step onto the battle field. Yeah quash the spirit of Adrian Monk and do it yourself because if you don’t, someone else certainly will. Once on the field remember Never let your guard down. Read on now for five valuable tips:

1. Scared? Who? Me? Nah!!
Bluff your way through. Pretend to be all gung ho about the whole thing. Each time the topic comes up chime in enthusiastically, “Yay! It’s Holi” even while your heart gives a lurch at the H word. Put on a careless, daredevil look and throw out a challenge or two. “Hah! This time I’m not letting you get away”. Once you’ve established your credentials and are no longer on the ‘hit list’ slink away quietly through the proverbial ‘patli gali’.

Caution: Don’t overdo the bravado. Steer clear of the biggies (You’ll know them by the mad glean of excitement in their colour crazed eyes). Pick out the scared ones (Oh you’ll smell them out, after all they’re just like you).

2.Get Your Shields in place
If you’re a mum you have a readymade shield – the kids. Deflect the attention to them. Keep an eye out for the assailant AT ALL TIMES. Just as he/she closes in put on your most loving look, position yourself carefully behind your little one and pretend to be engrossed in helping him/her fill out the water gun. (Do not get REALLY engrossed, okay? This is war, you need your wits about you, woman.) A look at that moving montage might for one, gentle out the attackers and two, the kids are craving it all anyway. They loooove the mess – the water, the colour – the dirtier the better. 

Caution: Don’t overestimate your safety. You’re just as safe as an 80 kg person can be behind a 20 kg person. Twins, that way are handy – double protection, you see.

3. Lie and Bribe
Participate in the preliminary round and just when things are hotting up and the dread in your heart starts to rise, put on your most serious expression and say,”I wish I could stay but my kid, is asthamatic. You know na how it is?? I need to go dry him out”. Believe me, no one will stop you. What? That’s a lie. Soooooo? This is war remember? And all’s fair.

Caution: This is a tricky one since it depends on the cooperation of children who at such times never rise to the occasion and might suddenly refuse to go along with you. Keep a bribe handy.

4. The Photographer
Carry an expensive looking camera. “Looking” being the keyword. Or simply whip out your phone and declare yourself the official photographer. Each time an assailant approaches ward him off with, “Aww you look lovely… Give me a smile. Watch out for your pictures on facebook.”

Caution: Use a dummy camera/phone. Keep the really expensive ones away from the battle field. The fanatics are not to be trusted.

5. The Foodkeeper
Become the official food supplier. Make sure you go for the preliminary rounds which are often gentler and get yourself suitably coloured, then stand behind the food counter or actively start handing out the samosas, gujhiyas and thandais. Who wants to mess their own food? 

Caution: Make sure you disappear before the food does.

Distract, Deflect and Defend. If nothing works and you’re caught – well then, cross over to the enemy and Drench, Dunk and Douse.

Remember it’s Holi!!!

Bura Na Mano Holi Hai!

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When hugs get few and far between!

Sometime back I needed to pick up a gift for one of the kids’ friends. I took the children along with the understanding that we WOULDN’T be shopping for them. However, the obvious happened. H found something he just had to have. N somehow never troubles me as much as he does. While she sulked quietly H threw a full fledged tantrum. We had a big blow up and walked out of the shop. A few slices of pizza later, when all was forgiven I put out my arms for a hug. And H refused. Simply refused.

“No hugs or kisses when we’re out of home, mama,” said he biting off a huge slice of pizza. “Only high fives,” he added putting out his hand as a concession to my bewildered look (or was it to ward me off?).

This is H – the cuddle freak. H who could be soothed with a hug even at few weeks old, who would sleep for hours on end as a newborn as long as I held him tight, who would snuggle endlessly and when I’d try to move he’d say ‘I can’t let go we’re in a permanent huggie.’ And my heart would totally melt making me wonder why I ever wanted to get up at all.

He was refusing me a hug. My son has officially entered the tweens and he’s not nine yet.

It’s strange how kids change. While H the born hugger is suddenly conscious of his big boy status N, the one who often howled to be put down in her crib and enjoyed being left to herself as a was baby, is growing more and more cuddlesome, even in public.

For now, I’m just glad I get to hug both my kids at least at home. Mercifully H’s hug embargo doesn’t exist at home. However, this does make me wonder if sometime in the distant future there exists a day when he’ll say no to hugs completely. That will be a sad day indeed, though I have no intentions of going down without a fight.

Wonder if they turn back into huggers once the awkward teens are through. 

Linking to ABC Wednesday for the letter H. Do drop by to see other H posts.

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Friends and Fitness

These past two weeks have been crazy with even crazier busier weekends. Just as I was thinking I’d sleep in over the weekend I got a call from one of my gym buddies. She has recently got herself a Zumba license. Now where does a newly minted instructor look for students to practice on? Of course right at her exercise buddies. That was how I found myself all excited and awake at the ungodly hour of 6 am on a weekend morning.

What??? 6 am IS ungodly for a weekend.

A little later, there I was with a bunch of friends and the brand new instructor. She was quite a pro and no I’m not saying that because she’s a friend. The best part – her mom came along to cheer her and shook a leg with the rest of us. And, just as moms are wont to do, she brought along a breakfast treat for all of us – tea, cookies and the freshest, softest, most delicious chutney sandwiches ever. 

Now this is a session I like!

Friends and fitness do make for great companions. Not for nothing are group fitness sessions so much fun. There are days when my freelancing work piles up or when the housework can no longer be ignored or I have a meeting at the kids’ school or simply when the laziness monster comes visiting – those are the times when exercise seems like a chore but the lure of a few good laughs with friends pulls me to the gym.

If you find exercising a bore too, look out for a group or enlist a buddy. They are seriously useful when you need that well-aimed kick in your backside to get going.

Linking to Mel’s # Microblog Mondays.

Also, linking to ABC Wednesday where I’m squeezing in the F for ‘Friends and Fitness’ even as G breathes down my neck.

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The rendezvous

8pm.
‘They’re late’, thought she as she laid the table. Impatiently she glanced at
the clock. ‘I’ll be late… again’. She hated to be late. But then, a smile lit
her face as she thought about her nightly tryst with her … ‘friend’ well yes,
friend, love, companion. She relived that heady feeling; that touch of the
evening breeze on her skin – cool and refreshing in the summer, arctic crisp in
the winter; the intoxicating scent of summer tube roses that kept them company
or the Chrysanthemums that filled the winter nights with their fragrance. And
there was music, ah yes, the music had to be just right.

She
smiled to herself then shook her head to dispel the image – later, she told
herself firmly, it’ll have to wait. Only after dinner could she give in to her
passion. First, she was a mum, a wife.

As
if on cue, the kids rushed in.

‘Hurry
hurry’, said she. ‘Wash and change. Dinner’s at the table’. Half an hour later
as the Husband settled down to the day’s news before the telly, she tucked the
kids in and kissed them good night.

Free
at last, she walked out of her apartment, out in the open air for her nightly
rendezvous – that one hour of pure, selfish happiness – hers and hers alone –
with her love, her friend. She sniffed the fresh air with pleasured
anticipation then reached for her iPod. Her friend was before her, waiting. ‘I’ve
come,’ said she breathlessly, as the road stretched ahead – silent, inviting,
encouraging.

She
ran then, the pounding of her feet matched by the hammering of her heart,
drowning herself in the pure pleasure of the adrenalin rush of her run,
forgetting everything else – just she and the road, her love for all seasons.

So do you have a secret hobby too? Or maybe not a secret, but something special that you do ONLY for yourself? To unwind, to have fun – just fun? Do share here.

Linking to Blog-A-Rhythm’s Wordy Wednesday.

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Girls and boys are good for each other

H is intensely competitive, specially when it comes to N. He likes to think that anything she can do, he can do better. However, at the same time he has quite a dislike for all things he has labelled ‘girly’. So it was with a bit of surprise that I discovered him making loom bands the other day. Apparently his competitiveness won over his dislike for ‘girly’ stuff. 

ENGROSSED!!

Even at 8.5 years he is clumsy as ever and can do with some hand-eye coordination practice, as also with a hobby that involves him keeping quiet and sitting in one place for some amount of time (other than watching the telly). I was one happy mum :-).

Linking to Mel’s # Microblog Mondays . Do drop by to see how others are faring after the weekend.

Also, linking to ABC Wednesday for the letter E for Engrossed.

*********

On a somewhat related note I stumbled across this debate here on the Net about whether boys and girls learn best if they are segregated in single sex classrooms.

Research suggests children perform better in single-sex classrooms. Some maintain that the teaching pattern is skewed in favour of girls since sitting in organised classrooms works well for them while boys are better at hands on learning.

However as a mom to a pair of different sex twins I find myself disagreeing. Of course life would be much simpler with same sex kids, just as it would be easier with single sex children in a classroom. However the education we’re aiming at doesn’t have only to do with scores, is it? Boys and girls are different, that’s a fact. Their brains are wired differently, also a fact. Out of the classroom they have to live, love, compete and socialise with each other. The earlier they learn how to do that, the better.

H and N fight. A lot. Yet they have been teaching and learning from each other with no awareness of it. Without going into whether an ability is a ‘boy skill’ or a ‘girl skill, here’s how..

H might continue to be a Barbie destroyer but he has mastered plaiting their hair albeit shabbily, he knows how to make loom bands and, wonder of wonders, often remembers to put down the toilet seat! He makes an effort at drawing, crafting, singing and dancing again thanks to N.

As for N, she’s as girly as girls come but can throw a mean punch, enjoys computer games and is addicted to the outdoors perhaps even more than H.

Together they’re good!

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