Of Fancy Elephants and Schmancy Superheroes

Today is the last day of summer camp. There's a fancy dress party. It was announced a week ago and straight off the bat my EO said he wanted to go as Krishna. I groaned thinking of all the costumes that are lying in crumpled heaps at the bottom of the cupboard and tried to get him to change his mind. But he was adamant. Krishna is his favourite God, after all! Yes, his and the YO's as well, which is why even the YO joined the chorus and demanded to be Krishna as well!

Well, this Mamma wasn't going to give up. She was going to fight on behalf of all those unused, unhappy costumes lying listlessly in the dark cool of the cupboard spaces. There were various remnants of various Superheroes and bits and pieces of jungle and farmyard animals scattered all over the place.

Winning over the YO was easy. She picked up an elephant costume that once belonged to his elder brother which he wore for a school concert when he was the YO's age! It couldn't have been more perfect and luckily, my little one agreed!

Now the EO was a tough customer. I tried tempting him with the stock pile at home. I reminded him how much he loved being a prince, but he shot that idea down saying the prince costume was too small now. I sighed, thinking that he did have a point as the concert was over two years ago, but then again, that doesn't really stop him wearing it at home. I then asked him if he wanted to be a superhero. Bad move. He immediately responded with "YESSSSSSSSS!!! I want to be Iron Man! With his special armour and helmet and this thing and that thing (clasping his wrists where the hand plates or whatever they are, are meant to be) and everything!!"

Well. I led myself into that one. I'm totally to blame!

I agonised over what I was going to do, until, quite literally, lightening struck!

My boys were pretending to be superheroes and attempting to save the planet (read, destroying my living room!). The EO was wearing his prince cape, since that still fits, duh! And the YO was using a scarf as his cape. They were both wearing the eye masks that they had made in camp.

Suddenly, the sky became overcast and we could hear deep rumbles coming from within the clouds' bellies. With a matter of minutes, there was a fantastic thunderstorm, with heavy winds, flashes of lightening and the works. I revelled in it while my boys did the scaredy-cat act...pretend, of course! We huddled together and watched the lightening when it happened...I was struck by a bolt from the deep grey-blue...figuratively speaking!

I turned to my EO, all excited and said, "Why don't we make you into a new superhero?" Doubt streaked across his face but he gave me his attention. "You can wear this blue cape, this blue eye mask with blue jeans and a blue T-shirt. You can be Blue Thunderstorm! You can control the winds with your eyes and make tornadoes which can lift the bad guys off their feet, swirl them around till they're dizzy and then drop them right inside jail! And from your hands, you can zap out lightening bolts! How do you like it, Blue Thunderstorm?"

"No!" my six-year-old said, and my face fell. "I'll be Blue Lightening-Storm!"

I was beyond delighted and seeing my first-born's eyes sparkle with excitement, thrilled me even more.

I played out the idea in my head over the next two days and loved it more and more.

So this morning, I got up early and went into my boys' room. I sat down with blue art paper, a pencil, ruler, scissors and silver/gold gift-wrapping paper. My boys hopped around me in excitement. My EO squealed with delight, "Oh Mamma, really you're so creative!" I should've hugged him, instead I got all shy and said, "It's part of my job, you know. Not just my writing job, but my job of being a mother." The EO looked at me soulfully. Either he was thinking that some great secret had just been shared with him, or he was thinking that his Mamma had gone loco!

Then, I quickly wrote down a poem for my EO to memorise and taught my YO what to say, as I made three silver lightening bolts and a single golden one for the EO's accessories. I made a head band and two wrist-bands, and adorned each with a silver bolt. The golden one, I stuck on to his silver belt.

Our little boys all dressed up and ready, the MIM and I had our camera phones at the ready. We recorded them saying their lines to us, before we sent them off to camp. First the YO gushingly said, "I am jungel animol. I have a beeg earjj and twunk. I am en elefent!"

We cheered and roared our approval.

Next, the EO. And this is what he said:
"I am a secret superhero;
My name is Blue Lightening-Storm.
I can ride up on the clouds
In my super hero form.
I have lightening in my hands
And tornadoes in my eyes,
And using my special powers,
I always catch the bad guys!"

I had tears in my eyes as I looked at my creations.

And I'm obviously not talking about some silly bits of glittery-paper lightening bolts.

Bum Bum Baaje

A couple of weeks ago, one rather early Sunday morning, I suddenly found myself surrounded by four little monkeys -- my EO, YO, the Nephew and the Niece.

I was still asleep when I felt a weight on my back. It was the Nephew. He was having a rather genial conversation with the EO from his comfortable perch, while the YO plastered my cheek with wet slobbery kisses, with the Niece saying, "Aee! Tumi tomaar mamma key lipsh-ey kishhie korchho!" (Hey! You're kissing your mum on the lips!) The YO glares back at her and says, "Naa! Lipsh-ey! Dekho!" (No! Not on the lips, see!) and proceeds to demonstrate.

Quite enjoying the attention and also curious to see what lay in store, I pretended to be fast asleep. Suddenly, snatches of the elder boys' conversation drifted towards me. The Nephew is heard asking my EO, "EO, why does your mum have such a big bum?" And before the EO can answer, he chooses to answer his question himself, "Oh I know! I know! It's because she's big and big people have big bums, that's why!"

As I smirked to myself I suddenly felt not one, not two, but FOUR PAIRS of hands playing my 'big bum' like a tabla. Yes, my bum is just that big...big enough to accommodate four pairs of hands to beat out a tune as funny and delightful as their giggles and squeals of delight.

And no, the treadmill is not going to be my new best friend. How else will my children play the tabla?

Calling All Bloggers!

A very close friend of mine needs people to write. And she's not talking about professional writers...she's talking about folks like you and me. But if you are a professional writer or an author-type-person...well, that's fine because she needs you too!


She'd compiling two books for Westland Publishers - "Chicken Soup for the Indian Friend's Soul" and "Chicken Soup for the Indian Soul: Celebrating Brothers and Sisters."


She asked me to put this up on my blog and to spread the word. Please write...we're all bloggers and it's what we do, right? And we mostly blog about our lives, right? So it should be a piece of cake!

And pass the word along to your bloggy friends, un-bloggy friends, family and colleagues. And tell them to spread the word too!

Her mail id is in the info in this link. She wants lots and lots of stories, so go on, indulge her!