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Required urgently…

..a cricket coach for Hrit. Not because I’ve spotted unusual talent in my son but because he just might turn into a social pariah if he doesn’t pick up the game… soon. These days he’s taken to playing cricket (not bat-ball, mind you) with slightly older boys and girls.

In his mind he is this invincible cricket champ that no one can defeat. Unfortunately he’s way lost about the rules of the game. The other day he took the crease. The bowler came running out and raised her hand to ball… “Stop stop stop,” yelled Hrit. “That’s not how you ball. If you throw the ball so high how will it come to the bat? You have to throw it lower, like this (meaning: underhand bowling).” He demonstrated.
When the girl protested he got angry. They reached some kind of an understanding because the game resumed and then again I heard the kids chanting “Cheater cheater, Hrit is a cheater.”
Now I know that’s just not true.. Hrit can be many things nasty, but cheater he’s not.
What happened, I asked.
A tearfully upset Hrit explained.. “I was taking runs and he knocked off the wicket. That’s not out na ma?  The ball didn’t even touch the bat.” According to him a catch is the only way to be out.
“You were out of the crease,” said the bowler. “What’s a crease?” shot back Hrit, puzzled.

You see the extent of the problem? I tried hard to explain with my limited knowledge, then decided to rope in The Husband. Cricket doesn’t really interest me unless the cricketer is handsome or we’re winning the world cup, not just playing, winning.

The Husband, quintessential lazy man that he is, said, “Don’t worry I’ll draw out the field on a piece of paper and explain it to him.” So much for practical demonstration! It was time to use the ‘tedhi ungli’ so I put Hrit on the job. “Papa’s a cricket champ. You must ask him to teach you,” I told him. Once Hrit got the idea my job was done. Not only was he after The Husband’s life I overheard him bragging to his friends too, “My father is the best ‘batter’ and ‘baller’ in the whole world.”

Who can be immune to such flattery? And so come Sunday morning The Husband is off with the kids to get them a ‘cricket kit’ while I find some peace to blog. Cricket can’t be ALL bad if it gives me some peace.

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Getting back, catching up

The thing with staying away from your blog for too long is that you accumulate so much backlog. It’s almost like it was at work. What’s worse, when I do get back everything goes backwards. As in I begin writing with the most recent stuff because that’s top of my mind and then go back upto the time when I last wrote. That makes for a bad read. All topsy turvy. The solution is of course to be regular.
I have so many blogs to read and so much to write. How much can really happen in twenty days!

In a capsule then..
We went to bid farewell to Ganapati. This is something one must see to believe… the celebration, the drumbeats, the crowd and above all the Ganapati’s arriving in cars, in trucks, atop tempos,.. an amazing sight. Then Hrit Naisha had a World Fiesta at their school and much grief that caused me, but more on that later. They’ve been unusually trying these past few days and I’ve all but jumped down from my ninth floor home. On a happy note – I read some great books. And of course there is the weight loss that is slowly turning into an obsession.

First the weight loss. Yesterday was a landmark day because The Husband noticed, yes really he noticed. “You’ve lost a bit,” said he casually as I was ‘booting’ up after putting the kids to sleep for my nine O’ clock walk. “A bit” when I’ve lost almost 6 kgs and have been bragging about it all the time. But that’s the thing with The Husband… he won’t say it till he sees it. Which is why I NEVER EVER ask him the question I ALWAYS want to ask him, “Am I looking fat?” No point. He’ll say exactly what the mirror says.. and I know that already Thank You.

I’ve been supplementing the gym with short/long walks as and when I can. Being a stay-at-home mum does have its perks. It’s really not as tough to find time as a working mum. I’ve come to enjoy, really enjoy, the walks any day more than the gym. There’s the seductive Pune breeze, for starters, that seems to actually call out as soon as one steps out.

Best pals

Then I flicked The Husband’s ear phones and loaded some tracks on my mobile all on my own, despite being severely technologically challenged. So now I have the Senoritas, Darlings and Chamak Challos for company (Somehow the cheesiest of songs sound the best while I’m exercising) plus people in the society don’t expect me to stop and make small talk.. a smile, a wave and I’m on my way. What’s better I can go easy at the gym.

Control nahin hota
The eating, by the way, is progressing almost normally. The Husband went to Chennai and came back with a box of Mysore Pak from Sri Krishna. Someone, pretty aptly described it as a ‘ghee saturated sweet’. I dug in mercilessly.

Then he dropped in at Kayani Bakery the other day and got home with a huge pack of Shrewsberry biscuits and two cakes. Two, when he’s diabetic and I’m trying to lose weight. And it was a weekend. Why why why would he do that???? Had I not known him better I’d have thought he was trying to sabotage my weight loss. But The Husband wouldn’t bother.. he’s the most non-hidden-agenda-person I’ve ever seen. Anyway, I got through the biscuits in about three days. No one makes it like Kayani.

However, I neutralised it all with exercise. Isn’t that great? The gym closed for two days for some restructuring which is how I got back to the comp.

The target now is another five kgs till my birthday in December which I shall celebrate with a Cheese Burst Pizza and a bottle of Sprite. That should keep me going.

Afterthought: I have become my own Chinese Mum .

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Back with flowers

Back after a long gap… and what better way than through Shruti’s Artsy Craftsy Challenge. Flowers it is.. I’d been promising Naisha that we’d make egg-carton flowers but had been putting it off for ages… months actually. I can’t begin to count how many cartons I’ve kept for weeks and then thrown out. Finally today since it was a a rainy day we planned not to go down to play and did this instead. The neighbour’s daughter joined us while Hrit was dispatched to the neighbour’s house (in exchange!) so we could work in peace. What fun.

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Boys!

A few days back I spent over an hour washing and scrubbing my sneakers. That was a momentous event considering it had been months since their last wash. As I was showing off their sparkling whiteness along came Hrit and very very purposefully stamped on them with his muck-laden school shoes and then grinned at me readying to scoot should I try to whack him. I settled for the loudest yell I could muster.
A few hours later, he had completely forgotten his misdeed while I was still bristling at the defiling of my shoes. He came to me and said, “Mama do you know what I want this time when I complete my ten stars?”
I’ve been giving the kids stars and crosses for good and bad behaviour for a long time now. It’s a pretty effective way to get them to behave. They really look forward to the ten-star mark when they get a gift of their choice. Hrit counted his stars today and realised he’d got just two more to go before the promised gift.

“What?”, asked I.
“I want that you never die,” said he. Considering that his original demand was for a remote controlled car which he’d been hankering after for a long long time, it was quite a huge sacrifice.

Devil or angel? What do you say?
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I’ve been struggling to get the kids to sleep on their own with little success. As a first step to sleeping in separate rooms instead of lying down with them I have recently started sitting and putting them to sleep with a story or a song.
Yesterday by the time the kids were ready for bed I was still wrapping up dinner. I put them to bed and told them to try to sleep on their own while I finished up.

“I can’t sleep alone,” complained Naisha. Obviously Hrit’s presence in the room doesn’t count.

“I want a song,” said Hrit
“Sing yourself to sleep. I’ll be there in a minute,” said I hurrying around the kitchen.

When I got to the bedroom Naisha was dutifully humming their regular bedtime song while Hrit was singing quietly to himself Main to Annie Annie Annie Annie ruk gaya… if you didn’t get that, it’s the Ainvayi Ainvayi song from Band Baja Barat.
No wonder he takes ages to fall asleep.

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Eid, Ganapati and some weightloss

The kids had two days of holidays for Eid and Ganesh Chaturthi, The Husband was working both days. I thought I’d take a break. For once I’d drop the Scheduler Mom attitude, let the kids be… not worry about whether they were having their daal, roti, subzi… not worry about how much television they were watching… or how long they were at the neighbour’s… that was the plan.
I thought I’d not bother with the festivals, either. Eid used to be special in Lucknow .. but we were not in Lucknow. Our only Muslim friend here, who’s son is also Hrit’s best buddy, had gone home to Kerala for the celebration so we were just not excited.
However, one can’t really live in India and not bother about festivals. First I got a call from my mother. Here’s how that went…
Ma: So what are you doing for Eid? Are you making Seviyan?
Me: Nope
Ma: Why not?
Me: I just didn’t feel like it.
Ma: Arre, why aren’t you celebrating? How can you not involve the children in Eid celebrations? You should dress them up, take them out, tell them why it’s celebrated.
That’s when I wished I could tune her out. But there’s something about my mum. I just can’t tune her out. Everyone else I can.. I’m actually quite good at it. I can read amidst the kids’ ruckus, turn a deaf ear to The Husband, tune out to colleagues’ wives chatter, make PC with all and sundry without bothering my brains but my mum.. she’s a different story. Oh I’ll oppose what she says when I don’t quite agree.. but I’ll always have a niggling doubt that she’s right. She often is… but that’s not the point. The point is that small ‘niggle’ will niggle and niggle and grow and grow till I find myself galvanised into doing exactly what she wanted me to. Humph! So much for turning into a grown up, mature, independent individual.
But I deviate.. on with the conversation…
Me (putting up the token protest and trying to go on the offensive): I’m not sure of the story myself. You never told us, did you? You never dressed us up either.
Ma: Well you were in Lucknow. You were part of that culture.. you got to soak it all up automatically but your kids need to be told about it all. Look up the story on the Net, get out the kurta pajama and chaniya cholis. And I did dress you up once.
Well she did.. but that wasn’t on Eid and she DID NOT tell us the story.
Not that it mattered because by evening I was running around buying seviyans and milk, then surfing the Net, then digging out the kids’ clothes. Then The Husband came and said we were to go to wish a friend Eid. The kids’ got to flaunt their clothes and I got to eat the most delicious Sheer Khurma (that had simmered all night on a sigri… yum!). My seviyans turned out quite delicious too or maybe the neighbours were being polite. But then The Husband said so too and he NEVER tries to be polite so my Eid was pretty much perfect.
Then came Ganapati. Thank God Mum knows nothing about it (There’s no Ganesh Chaturthi up North) and just as I was thinking of a lazy day the SIL called. She was bringing Ganapati home and we were invited. And so I ran from the gym, ran to pick some prasad so I could make my own petitions to the Lord, dressed up the kids and it was puja time. We drove through the roads teaming with drummers even as loudspeakers boomed bhajans in Marathi, waded through the crowds to pick up the idol, watched the SIL set it up, decorated it with flowers and thermacol, then put together the hundred other things needed for the puja, sang the aarti while the kids alternately clapped and fought for the bell. Finally we sat down to a hot lunch of chhole, bhature, kheer… really there’s nothing like being with friends and family.
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And here’s my high five moment. I kicked off the four kgs I’d picked up In Lucknow during the vacations. Now I can look forward to some real weightloss. Since I’d set August as the deadline I’m pretty bang on with my target. Even the modaks I had recently haven’t pushed up the scales so I’m pretty chuffed. Wish me more luck guys.
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