Wednesday, December 31, 2008
A recap would show that this year has had it's highs and lows. It started off on a very frightening note with the FIL being hospitalised for 40 days, 25 of those days hooked up to a ventilator. But he's home, better, fitter and more cautious.
I lost some friends, not physically, but metaphorically-speaking, and the thought of that still hurts like hell, especially since I still see them around.
But, on the up-side, this is the year that I started blogging in earnest, and the friends that I've made across the wires makes up ten-thousand-fold for the ones I've lost. Blogging has been such an enriching and rewarding experience for me, that its gifts never cease to amaze me. Each and every one of you have made me a part of your life, and even if I start rambling on and on you'll never fully understand just how much that means to me. I thank you all for letting me be privy to your worlds and for being a part of mine.
Professionally speaking, 2008 has been kind to me too. I got published in "Chicken Soup for the Indian Soul" (a dream come true) and I bagged a regular column in a newly-launched magazine (another dream job!) For this I thank my Muse and the Goddesses I pray to and whom I derive my strength and creativity from. Everything I do, I dedicate to You.
Unfortunately, the year ended on a bad note. First, I lost my Boro Jethu and as I type this, an amiable uncle-in-law is in the hospital.
And of course, 26/11 happened. The direct result of that is that I am a more terror-struck, cynical, hyper and shit-scared parent. I have not forgotten my pledge. As soon as school reopens, I promise to visit the EO's school to talk to the principal about introducing activities that will help inculcate nationalistic pride in tomorro's generation.
And thank you, to the Gods Above, for my charming EO and pixie YO. I owe You a debt of gratitude for letting them be mine.
So goodbye 2008. I will remember you, for reasons good and bad. You've been a memorable year.
And bring it on 2009! With all your blessings and memories-to-be, welcome!
I pray that the coming year is full of joy, good health, peace and magic for all of you! May the year ahead show us a way to make the world a safer, healthier and more hopeful place to live in.
Sunday, December 28, 2008
Yes, me! Moi! The last person to bring out the sweaters and socks in college in Delhi! While the general Bong population on campus would be in monkey caps, the Southies in layers of sweaters and the other Northies in well-coordinated winter outfits, complete with jaunty berets, stylish scarves and mom-made mufflers, yours truly would be wandering around in a shawl. That's it. And it wasn't a show of bravado. It wasn't because I lapped up the awe and envy of my hostel-mates and class-mates (well, I did enjoy it, but that wasn't a reason! ;p) I have always revelled in cold weather. The nip in the air, the crispness of fall and the onset of winter...aaah! I always put it down to being a winter baby, born in New York in the month of January, with snow all around...And then there was the move to Bangalore, the original AC city! How could I not love and bloom in the cool and the cold?
And here we are in in Kolkata and my immuno-system seems to have gone bust! My very first winter here and I developed a pneumonic patch in my lungs! To add to all that, I discovered I was pregnant with the EO! So much for strong medications! And ever since then, at each and every 'change of season' or 'turn of the weather', there I'd be coughing my lungs out and sneezing my nose off. I still didn't 'feel' the cold, but the cold obviously found a good home in my bones and lungs. And that is why, I have to bundle myself up in woolens and invest in socks. The MIM, if he could, would get me and the boys into monkey caps, but so far I've been able to resist.
So this Christmas Eve, our gang of maddies and I, made our way to Tolly Club to bring in Christmas the way we knew best...by downing spirits to up our own and going berserk on the dance floor. The sight that assaulted our eyes was enough to send shivers up and down every bone in our body...well at least the female bodies. As far as the male bodies in our group were concerned, the sight warmed the cockles of their hearts. The skin show that was on view that night could have easily rivaled a day on the sunny, sandy beaches of Rio de Janerio! Hey, don't get me wrong, I have nothing against itsy-bitsy dresses...carried off well, they can look supremely sexy and sensuous. Of course seeing someone in one often gives rise to feelings of jealously, but I still say that I have nothing against a teeny-tiny dress. But on one of the most frrreeezzzing nights of the year? Brrrrr!! I am telling you, these dresses started barely two inches above the nipple and ended two inches below the butt! And here we were, dressed head-to-toe, mostly in a slimming black, and covered in velvets, silks and wollens.
And the figures! Reed thin, stilettoed and no stockings to boot! Weren't they defying the very laws of physics and biology? We were the well-insulated lot, naturally as well as artificially, but why were we shivering not just in our skin, but in our socks?
The average age of the HUGE crowd? Between 15 and 19, I kid you not. Just mere smatterings of 25-75 year-olds. So, now you can well understand why I also felt old :(
Well, we tried to come up with different theories to answer that question, but after quite a few rounds of brandy, whiskey and vodka. It didn't seem to matter so much any more. I never made it to the dance floor, on account of my shoe strap tearing, but I certainly rocked the chair that night with my groovy shoulder shakes, butt jiggles and hip(po) wobbles.
Yup, it turned out to be a Merry Christmas eve after all.
Then, after what seemed like only an eleven-second snooze, I was woken up by three very chirpy, bright-eyed, smiling faces. The EO, YO and Nephew were up and about and waiting for their Christmas presents. And Santa has been very, VERY generous this year. That's what happens when Daddy Clause decides to go shopping with Mommy Clause and goes three times over the budget! Men! I tell you!
We took the our sons and the MIM's cousin's kids to Saturday Club. We had invited these friends of ours to meet us there with their kids. There was Christmas Carnival there for the kids. The arrangements were the same as every year, but the kids had a blast and at the end of the day, and that's really all that matters to a parent!
So Christmas was indeed merry, despite my advancing years and my absolute intolerance to the Northern winds that blow.
How was yours?
Wednesday, December 24, 2008
May these troubled times just be a bad reminder of 2008.
With love in our hearts to you and yours...
M4 and family
Monday, December 22, 2008
Mirror Image: Hmmm. Yes, I can see that!
M4: Excuse me? Meaning?!?
Mirror Image: The extra layer of insulation you've packed on speaks volumes about the volumes of festive cheer you've been consuming!
M4: Oh you kill-joy you! 'Tis the season to be jolly and all the other jazz...
Mirror Image: There's jolly and then there's folly. You my dear, have regressed quite a few letters back!
M4: Hahaha-blah! You think you're so funny!
Mirror Image: You'd be rolling on the floor laughing if you could only see what I really see! It's downright hilarious!
M4: Hey, so I might have indulged in an extra piece of rum ball or four, so what? It's the season of merry-making! I am revelling in the winter cheer and I'm not ashamed if my body shows it! That's what we have sweaters for!
Mirror Image: Your body was all set for winter before it even arrived in all its nippy glory!
Mirror Image: Your boobs, my dear. They seem to have gone south for the winter and from the looks of it, I'd say they've take up permanent residency there!
M4: (picks up vase and takes aim...)
Sunday, December 21, 2008
But a daughter is a daughter for all her life."
Looks like I've married the only exception that proves the bloody rule!!!
Saturday, December 20, 2008
It started off with a classical dance performance by some of the girls in the older classes to the Ganesh Vandana. They were lovely and graceful and as always, whenever I see a classical dance performance, my heart hurts a little bit and it just can't stop sighing!
Next, the Nursery tots put up a piece called "Friends Forever". The little babes were dressed up as various animals from the jungle. They parade around stage, wave happily at the audience and then they talk about Santa. They wonder who the big guy in red will pick to help pull his sleigh and they each start singing about their strengths. Soon, little Rudolph makes an entrance (this was the EO's part last year, but is was a closed door school show, so we parents didn't get to see it). He wants to pull the sleigh too. All the other animals laugh at him and say mean things and our tiny, shiny-nosed reindeer is very sad. Of course there's a happy ending...it's a Santa Claus and Rudolph story for cryin' out loud (not to mention there are more than 150 four-year olds involved!) So Santa arrives on the stage and asks Rudolph if he would like to pull his sleigh. Rudolph says yes, the other animals beg forgiveness and ask if they can be friends, Rudolph says yes again and there's a lot of singing, dancing and merry-making on stage. To say that the animals were adorable is obviously an understatement! We were witnessing cuteness overload on stage!
The MIM, my Maa-Janoni and MIL started discussing the vast reserves of patience these teachers have. After all, dealing with seven sections, each with 25 students in the class and making sure that all the kids are not just on stage but get at least 10-15 seconds of visibility time, is no joke! No sirree! Hats off to them!
After an impressive violin recital by one of the senior students, it was time for the Prep classes to troop on stage! Pa-pa-pa-pum-pum-pum!! This was it! What my little boy had been practicing so hard for, for one whole month! It started off with the EO being one of the contenders for the Prince's role. Now the EO is a fidgety boy, very restless. I knew it must have been a tough decision. But they saw the spark in his eyes and his class teacher took him under her wing and turned him from a fidgety frog to a galloping, swashbuckling, sword carrying, velvet-swathed prince charming. The entire Prep section was on stage, once again, that's about 160-180 students, and we were astounded by the perfection.
When it was time for the prince to gallop on stage, my eyes were glued to the wings. Maa-Janoni had already caught a glimpse of him waiting there. He took his entry a few seconds too early and realising his mistake, went back to wait in the wings again, for his proper cue to start. And then, the right cue and the dashing prince came galloping out and went round and round the enchanted forest. Looking phenomenal in shades of blue, I can't even begin to describe what I was feeling. It was so much more than pride and joy. The physical pounding in my chest was so real, so tangible yet so bearable I didn't care if I burst. He didn't miss a beat, a word, a step. His lines were clear, his enunciation perfect, his diction impeccable. This is why most of the teachers wanted him all along...because of his command over the English language. I am so very grateful that they kept the faith and didn't lose patience. That they polished his strengths and overcame his weaknesses and presented the work of art that I had the great good fortune of gawking at last night.
And when it came time for the kiss, we heard a nice, loud smooch being planted on the pretty princess's forehead. They were wearing lapel mikes after all, so we heard everything really well!
They were all adorable. And yes, I was an incredbly proud Mamma last night and I thought my EO looked particularly dashing, even though his cape seemed so long I was worried that he would trip over it. However, I am not the kind of person who'll say he was the best in his production even if he wasn't but just because he's my son. No. Unless it's true, I won't say that. And truth be told and all feelings of motherly pride aside, he wasn't. The child who stunned everyone with her acting prowess was the Wicked Old Fairy. She was brilliant!
The rest of the show comprised more solo and duet performances from senior students, who acted as the fillers while the props were being changed behind the curtains. Class 1 put up a very cute production of 'The Shoemaker and the Elves'. The Class 2 choir sang a wonderful mix of popular English numbers and an impressively harmonised medley of 'Purano Sei Diner Kothaa' with 'Auld Lang Syne'. The show ended with a lkarge group of Class 1 and 2 students dancing the garba and bhangra.
In the grand finale, all the lead characters danced onto stage doing the bhangra to 'Nach Baliye' from the OST "Bunty Aur Babli". Now this is another onbe of the EO's top favourite songs. Plus he loves to dance. So you can imagine how happy a certain little prince in an over-long, dark blue, velvety cape was! He started dancing so hard and having such a good time on stage, he soon left the others way behind and was stomping about merrily in front of the stage. He had to be pulled back in time for the curtain to come down on them!
This reminded my of the Bro, when he was way back in Class 1 and he did something similar...and that too, while dancing the bhangra! Maa-Janoni, Daddy Dearest and I keep talking about the similarities that the BRO and EO share. Once again, I was shown just how much!
After the curtain went up once again, we all stood for the National Anthem. And then it was truly curtains for a wonderful show, put up by the cutest, sweetest bunch of kids ever!
Congratulations teachers, staff and management. Your efforts were tremendous and they showed. And best of all, the little ones shone in every respect possible.
Thank you for this!
Friday, December 19, 2008
So, here are a few little tidbits from my baby boy's life. Take it away YO...
~You know how we parents resort to shouting about and showing off imaginary birds, insects and animals doing weird and wonderful things like flying in the sky, crawling on the walls and eating food (gasp! gasp! how stupendously surprising and wonderfully creative!) to our tiny little tykes when they're being all wriggly and refusing to put on clothes or fussy and refusing to eat? Well, the YO paid back the MIM in full measure a couple of weeks ago! After peeing, my little semi-nudist decided to run in circles around the living room. After the MIM successfully caught a squirmy, giggly little boy, hoisted him on his shoulders and took him back to bed to get some pants on him, our Artful Dodger points to the wall and says, "Baba deko, deko, tikki!" (translated directly from Bong baby-speak: "Baba, look, look, a lizard"). The MIM takes the bait, looks up, slackens his grip and the half-naked boy is on the loose again!
~Both my boys love listening to music. A lot of my taste has rubbed off on them (thank the Gods that Be!) and they've collected their own favourites as well. One of the EO's current favourites is "Jaane Kyun..." or the "I'll be alright" song from 'Dostana'. The other day, in the car, I suddenly hear this little voice singing over and over again "Jaane Kyuuuuuuunnnnn, Jaane Kyuuuuuuunnnnn..." He thought no one was listening and when he caught me looking at him and smiling, he got embarrassed and tried to hide his face. Aah, my little jaan, didn't you know that you can't hide from the ever-watchful gaze of mom? Especially the cute stuff!
~Being the only Bong in a class full of Hindi-speaking toddlers, I knew that my YO would pick up bits and pieces of Bollywood's prima langua sooner rather than later. But I still couldn't help but be amused when we were at the store and he suddenly piped up and said, "Baari jayegaa!" Aww! (I want to go home!) And he even kept some Bong in it ('Baari' is 'home' in Bangla) to make sure his language-challenged Mamma understood!
~Because the EO is allowed to watch TV (of course I strictly monitor TV programs and viewing), by default, the YO has started watching certain programs/movies earlier than when the EO did. For example, the YO is a complete Potter-head, just like his mom and elder brother. How much of it he understands, I have yet to understand, but he hums the theme music incessantly! At the YO's age, the EO was in love with cute, adorable Dora and her handsome cousin Diego, and enjoyed the antics of Noddy and his friends in Toyland. But the YO prefers Little Einsteins and Ben 10 to Oswald and company, thank you very much! Well, the EO and the Nephew were watching their evening quota of TV and lately they've been showing the promos of "Madagascar:2" during the ads. Today, I was reading something about the making of the movie in the newspaper with the YO on my lap. He recognised the faces of the friendly four and immediately started jumping up and down on my lap, clapping his hands and screeching, "I like tho moob ith, moob ith!" (The Madagascar theme song, "I like to move it, move it!) Yes, my little one, I can sure see that you do!
Get well soon my love! It breaks my heart to see you this way!
Monday, December 15, 2008
It's pouring awards and felicitations and I guess the time for Oscar worthy speeches has come upon us once again!
This most amazing award was given to me by the amazing Goofy Mumma and according to her friend Shalom from Red Moonrise, this award acknowledges "the values that every blogger shows in his/her effort to transmit cultural, ethical, literary and personal values every day."
Wow GM! Me? Really?!? Thank you so much! I don't know what to say, except that it means so, SOOO much to me that you feel this way about my blog. And that in itself, is more than any award!
And my awardees are the Mad Momma, Bohemian Rhapsody, IndieQuill, Orange Jammies and Sunny Days . I truly believe they embody the spirit of this award. Pass on the torch my incredibly wise friends.
My grateful thanks to my Namesake and to Monika,Ansh for bestowing upon me this wonderful award. Thank you both, I am overwhelmed! You two are wonderful friends, I cherish your presence in my life and I hope you both know that.
"This award is given to a blog that invests and believes in PROXIMITY - nearness in space, time and relationships! These blogs are exceedingly charming. These kind bloggers aim to find and be friends. They are not interested in prizes or self-aggrandizement. Our hope is that when the ribbons of these prizes are cut, even more friendships are propagated. Please give more attention to these writers! Deliver this award to eight bloggers who must choose eight more and include this cleverly-written text into the body of their award."
Right, and my pick of eight Sia, Wordjunkie, Pseudo Intellectual, Of This and That, Mystic Margarita, Itching to Write, Karma Calling and my dear Noon.
I hope I've sent you some festive cheer, so 'deck the blogs with words and awards, fa-la-la-la-la...' and pay it forward!
Sunday, December 14, 2008
So bye-bye yellow, hello green.
It may seem funny that the YO seems to have picked up more karate than him just by watching the action sequence in 'Kung Fu Panda', and that the EO refuses to defend himself in a fight with his cousin, resorting to tears instead, but it still doesn't take away from the fact that my EO got a green belt today.
And I am one heavily chuffed Mamma!
Yay my sweet, I am so proud of you!
Saturday, December 13, 2008
Thursday, December 11, 2008
I have a zit. Right on my forehead. It sticks out like a, what else, but as the bloody pimple that it is.
Blessed/cursed with oily skin, pimples have always been the bane of my post-puberty, facial skin's being. And now with age, these blighters have just gotten more stubborn. Pretty much like the mother ship from whence they spawn.
This particular one has been around for over a week and shows no sign of sprouting a head, wrinkling up into decrepitude and ultimately leaving my face with a reminder that it was there, that it had visited, existed.
The YO has been fascinated with it and stares at it for long seconds before scurrying off to admire something equally disgusting, like crow poop or dead bugs.
Yesterday, he finally pointed to it and asked me: Eitaa ki? (What is this?)
Mamma Mia: (wondering how to explain 'excess secretion of facial oil, ergo a pimple, a zit, a kill-joy', finally resorts to...) Eitaa beththaa. (This is a boo-boo [a 'hurt']).
The YO: Beththaa? (Boo-boo?)
Mamma Mia: Hmmm. Mamma-ke shaatt-shaatt korey dao. (Make Mamma feel better.)
The YO: (tenderly, lovingly, gently, so-sweetly-I-could-crush-him-to-my chest-and-die-smiling-ly, strokes his tiny, chubby hand over the offending eruption) Shaatt-shaatt. Shaat-shaat. (No real translation for that, will just have to go with "There-there. There-there.")
And even more tenderly and lovingly, he plants a soft, gentle kiss on It, the Zit.
And then, suddenly, out of the blue, he whacks me hard on the forehead! At that spot! On It, the Zit!! I mean WTF?!?
Before I could recover from speechlessness, he raises his finger to It, the Zit and in a stern, gruff voice...he actually SCOLDS it!!
The YO: No! Paap! (Paap, in Bong baby-speak is what we say when we are scolding certain toddlers who don't behave. We also use the word whenever anything has 'hurt' our little darling's head, body, etc on their voyage of discovery. For example, if said toddler bumps his head against the wall or something, to pacify said now-screaming toddler, we scold the wall with a loud 'PAAP!!')
Right, so the YO, scolds my pimple and smacks it again!! Seriously...WTF?!? Then he raises his voice and scolds it even further, "Tumi Mamma-ke kaammey disho? Nooo! Paap!" (Tumi Mamma-ke kaamrey diyechcho? -- You've bitten Mamma! Nooo! Paap!)
His expressions were worthy of the Mastercard ad...priceless.
And I'm pretty sure my face, with it's weird mixture of ringing pain and eyes full of teary love, was quite the same as well...priceless.
My sincere thanks to Orange Jammies pointing this great blog out!
Tuesday, December 9, 2008
I hang your name
about my neck
and it dangles
between my breasts.
Sometimes a pendant;
yet reassuring me that
Sometimes a boulder;
with the very idea of
or coloured glass,
it changes face
with the varying moods
of my love
and reminds me
of your place
in my Book.
Monday, December 8, 2008
I wish, I really, really wish that I could say we had a blast, but personally, I didn't. The kids were excited to see the animals, of course. Plus, it had been a very long time since we had all gone out together like this in a group, so that was fun too.
But the animals. Oh, those poor, poor animals. Now I have nothing against zoos and circuses -- PROVIDED THE ANIMALS ARE WELL CARED FOR. My eyes and sensibilities were assaulted by one miserable sight after the other.
I've always loved the zoo. Some of my happiest memories are of visiting the Bronx Zoo when we lived in New York and of going to the Mysore Zoo when we lived in Bangalore. I used to think it was quite thrilling that we could get to see wild animals so up close and personal. As I grew, I also believed that the zoo was a safe haven for many of these animals. A zoo was one of the few places where all animals could be looked after, nourished and cared for like beloved pets. I safely assumed that endangered species would multiply and thrive in such a protective and loving atmosphere and that soon enough, we could knock their names off the endangered species list.
But yesterday, I felt these miserable creatures were better off in the wild. I could see the rib cages of the lions. Kings of the jungle, these mighty beasts are supposed to be. Instead, they were nothing more that mere skeletons of their glorious memory. It pains me to say it, but the word that best describes them is 'fleabags', lying there in the sun like limp, stinky dishrags. The giraffes, those tall majestic creatures were trying desperately to lick the 'chunaa' off the walls -- a clear sign of calcium deficiency.
The pool water in the hippo enclosure reminded me of a sewer. The same was the case with the water bodies meant for the storks, cranes, ducks and other water birds. The Calcutta Zoo used to attract migratory birds from as far as Siberia and the MIM was telling me how in the winters, there would hardly be any space on the lakes. because the birds covered every available inch of space there was...and let me assure you, the space is considerable. And now? Just a few flocks here and there and dirty water as far as the eye can see and the nose can smell. Not surprisingly, word about the bad acco and services must have travelled by squawk and chirp of beak to all the four corners of the globe by now.
Not just that, the place is filthy!! The zoo is a major winter attraction here in Kolkata. Families pack picnic lunches and lovers 'chat' behind the bushes. Is it so bloody difficult to throw a used thermacol plate or an orange peel into the dustbin that's right in front of your f*****' face! The whole place was worse that a pigsty, because even a pig worth his pink wouldn't give the place the time of day, unless he was put behind bars like his more unfortunate brethren of the animal kingdom.
And no sign-boards. Anywhere! No maps, no arrows to point us in the direction of the reptile house, the zebras, the lions, the monkey cages...nothing! 'Hello! Anybody there? Could we have some attendants and zoo officials out and about please? No? Say what? They're all at home sleeping on a Sunday morning. Well! What a novel idea, I say. And what about the rest of the week, what do they do then? Oh sleep!! Well good for them!'
Will I go back? Yes, of course I will. If only to see my YO clap his hands and exclaim excitedly, "Maakee, maakee" (that would be 'monkey' folks) and hear my EO try to roar like a lion. To hope that my paltry ten-rupee entrance fee will at least buy a packet of peanuts for the baby elephat.
And if possible, to 'accidentally' push someone responsible for the plight of these creatures, into the tiger's den.
Friday, December 5, 2008
By now, familiar with the "go to toilet" and then weigh myself routine, I did that and waited for them to compare my previous recordings and tick me off for gaining a quarter of a quarter kilo, but hallelujah, I had actually managed to maintain it since Friday's reading. Well, considering this weekend I was rather sinless compared to my usual weekends and that I only ate grapefruit for dinner, I wasn't too surprised. But I was worried about the sausages I'd had on Tuesday morning for breakfast. You never know what attacks you when, where and how. And since my thighs are prone to expanding at the mere aroma of pepperoni pizza and freshly baked chocolate chip cookies, I had every right to cross my fingers and be worried.
I had a small session with the physiotherapist, where he asked my to show off my amazing flexibility and astounding suppleness. I had to sit with my legs stretched out in front of me and touch my toes. Then he asked me to stretch beyond toe and foot area, which I did, my mountainous mound of abdominal fat notwithstanding. Hoping for some praise and because I have serious self-esteem issues, I actually asked him if I did well. Like an over-zealous school teacher he actually said that I could do better! Yeah, I know! I probably could if I didn't have a built-in insulation plant where my tummy should be! When he asked me it I was doing the all the 'physiotherapy' he had given me, I lied through my fat ass and said 'Yes'! And yes, the guilt-trip kicked in almost immediately!
Day 3 was a thermoslim session. Nurse Strong-Arms was in an exceptionally chatty mood. She's quite nice actually, but she went rather ballistic when it came time to 'knead' my stomach like fatty dough. She saw me wincing and acknowledged the fact that she was being rather 'rough'. Oh phew! And here I was thinking that maybe was just charged with too much caffeine or an early morning meal of maacher-jhol-aar-bhaat or something! After the ironing, the kneading and pounding (oops! I mean massaging of course!), it was time to cast my stomach in paste (oops, now I mean slap on a coat of tummy pack!). And in that darkened room, while the goop on my stomach hardened, I took a 'beauty nap'...literally!
I woke up just seconds before Nurse Strong-Arms appeared and peeled the paste off in one swift motion. I am so, SO thankful I don't have a hairy stomach!
After the pee-pee and weigh-weigh routine, where it was gleefully noted by Sunny Chica that I had lost 200 gms after the session, I was taken for the personal body-sauna session. Wrapped in cling film, a loofah-like towel and the heating pad, I sweat it out and watched TV for a while.
After the third and final round of loo-and-weighing-machine, the Sunny Chica sat me down and gave me a detailed diet chart. She was far too sunny for my liking. In fact, she had gone quite beyond 'sunny' and had entered 'bubbly'. Bubbly like a thoroughly shaken soda bottle with too much fizz and no point. I argued with her and she sweetly asked me what my problem was in following the chart. I told her what I dad been feeling since session 1, that if I had wanted their type of 'diet' regimen I would have gone with the Atkin's or the South Zone or the Ford diet plans. She tried to calm me down and I just nodded and pretended to give in, because I wasn't in the mood to argue. As I folded the diet plan and put it away, she asked me to bring glasses and bowl capable of holding a certain amount of liquid and food. I thought of the YO's milk bottle and seriously contemplated stuffing that next to my tracks and T-shirt for the next day's session.
I left feeling disappointed and lighter. It was time to go home and stuff my face. Which I did.
With four different types of fruit. That should give Sunny Chica something to munch on!!
Friday was session #4 and this time it was a weight-loss session.
I was asked to hand over my Diet Diary, which I did so, rather reluctantly, I must admit. I was dreading the remarks. Geez, these sessions were starting to feel more and more like school.
It was noted that I had gained 600 gms. I felt like the chubby child caught with her hand in the cookie jar. I seriously do not recommend these sessions for the easily-embarrassed!
I reconnected, literally, with my old friend the Ther-Ther and we were all a-buzz for the next one-and-a-half-hours or so. I was watching a lovely naach-gaanaa programme on TV when somebody else came in for her Ther-Ther session. Not being in a particularly charitable mood, I didn't even offer her the remote. But she seemed to be enjoying my choice so luckily that didn't turn into an awkward session.
After the mandatory trip to the loo and the weight-taking session, I was sent back home with my diary, a cheery wave and a "See you on Monday!"
I waved back, grabbed my diary and walked out reading it. There were actually tick marks next to my good food choices and circles around the wrong ones! Did I mention before that it felt like school?
"See you on Monday," they said.
Yeah, I'll be waiting with bated breath!!
Thursday, December 4, 2008
So, on Saturday, 29th November I called some of my friends over to the Saturday Club (yes, teeheehee and all that) with their kids, for tea, snacks and loads of adda. Three of the five fabulous women were able to make it, their broods in tow, and a great time was had by all -- the kids and the moms. The children ran on the lawns, the wind whipping their faces, their laughter ringing in the air and the sight and sound of them enjoying themselves, literally filled our hearts with gladness.
Yes, I'll say it again...friends are my lifelines. Thank God for them!
On Monday, the MIM and our boys, bundled ourselves into the car and drove down to Shantiniketan. Every year, on the 1st and 2nd of December, there's an art mela there called the Nandan Mela, which attracts art lovers from all over the state and even serious aficionados from other parts of the country as well as the world.
This is the second time I have ever been to Shantiniketan, a place that holds a special space in my heart. Aside from the fact that I love, worship and tend to deify all things Tagore; my Maa-Janoni and her younger sister, my favourite aunt, both studied there. Through their memories and reminisces I have walked the raangaa-maatir poth and danced in the Basonto Utsab countless number of times. I have 'seen' Maa-Janoni stun the spectators into awe with her histrionics on stage and 'heard' my Choto Mashi serenade the trees, birds and audience into raptures with her tremendous vocal talent.
The MIM and I have bought a small piece of land there, where we one day, God willing, plan to build our dream country cottage. A place where we can run away from the city to breathe pure, fresh air. Where we can let the boys run, cavort and tumble in wide open spaces. Where we can take friends and chat the nights away, sing out loud to the night sky and for a few, blissful days, let the wind cary our worries and stress far, far away.
This year, my very close friend was also there, with her hubby, her two sons, parents, in-laws, elder sister and her daughter. There were other friends there two. When the EO met his friends, the reunion was straight out of the movie 'Dilwale Dulhania Le Jayenge'. They younger boy, A2, who is closer to the EO in age, and the EO ran towards each other with open arms, screaming each other's names. The only things missing were a 'sarson ka kheth' and a banjo. To say that the sight was both hilarious as well as heart-warming is obviously a understatement.
After lunch with my friend's family, the MIM went off for some work and we hung out together the entire afternoon and evening. The MIM met up with us at the mela in the evening and the ambiance was electrifying. Unfortunately, for the past couple of years, the big, established names in the art world haven't been participating much, but that in no way takes away from the spirit of the fair.
After the mela, a cosy night back at the place where we were staying, an early night to bed and in the morning we woke up fresh and rejuvenated. We had planned to drive back after lunch, but my friend called us up, urging us to leave as soon as possible since a drivers' strike had been called in Bolpur.
We had a sumptuous breakfast in the garden, under the winter sun (I recommend that everyone should do it!) We piled our stuff into the car and left, earlier than we had planned.
So much remained undone, but we can always go back. Barring a few hiccups and thanks to some lucky breaks, we reached home in time for lunch.
And all to soon, my idyllic retreat ended and we were back to reality.
And reality bites! On the bum, no less!
Wednesday, December 3, 2008
One thing is clear, everybody wants to do something. I have never been good at leading, but I've always been a very good team player. Tell me what I can do, and if it's in my power, I will do it! And Pseudo Intellectual, I didn't ever mean to be exclusive...it's just that when I wrote this, I had this big visual in my head, of Mommy Bloggers marching up the steps of Rashtrapati Bhavan to keep an appointment with the President of India and discuss how we can make our country safer for our children. That's all. I need you on my side, I hope you do know that! And I don't have anything concrete on my hands now, everything is still hazily sketched in the mind... The moment things take shape, you know you'll be one of the first ones to read it here!
I need to thank many of you for linking my post to your blog; Parul, Goofy Mumma, Button's mom and wordjunkie.
I have decided to start small; tiny, baby steps if you will. I am spreading some information about some great websites that are up. For some positive action, here are a few blogs/sites that you could visit:
Now with schools gearing up for Christmas pageants and the holidays, I feel it won't be a good idea to approach them now. So, after the break, I have decided to go to the EO's school and ask the principal about teaching the pledge to all the students as well as starting with the NCC. I don't know how it will go, but I do know that I am going to try. Just like this, if we all visit the schools our children study in, or we studied in, and put our proposals forward, we can feel good about trying. And if our efforts don't work, then we can think of taking it to the next level, like a nationwide campaign, or an online petition. I know that the Mad Momma has a very valid point when she says that a pledge is not enough to instill nationalism, I would still like to try. It could be a start.
The torch is burning...let's keep it alive. And not just a flicker either, but a huge roaring flame that will keep the darkness at bay!
Here is the pledge that I keep going on and on about. My heartfelt thanks to the Mad Momma for giving it to me ...
India is my country and all Indians are my brothers and sisters.
I love my country and am proud of its rich and varied heritage.
I shall strive to be worthy of it.
I shall give my parents, teachers and all elders due respect, and treat everyone with courtesy.
To my country and my people, I pledge my devotion.
In their well-being and prosperity alone lies my happiness.