Memory

Memories are powerful mood-stimulants. They can seat you on a beautiful, Persian carpet and take you on a magic carpet ride through the rainbows of your past. Then again, they can dig a hole through worm-infested, smelly mud and bury you under the broken eggshells and rotten tomatoes of past pains, hurts and tears.

Yes. Memory can be a teddy bear. It can also be a bitch.

And music, for me at least, is always a trigger-er of past faces, names and places. Most of my memories are linked to music and triggered by music.

This morning, at MaaJanoni's place and we were listening to a favourite music channel of hers. A Bangladeshi couple was singing popular as well as some unfamiliar Bengali folk songs and songs inspired by old folk tunes.

One song reminded me of happier times in JNU, when I was part of a Bangla Band. I associate this song with a friend of mine, who now happens to be my sister-in-law (the MIM's cousin; yes, she is very much responsible for our nuptials).

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=zNM71yMwxcw&feature=related

The other song introduced me to an amazing artist. She is a gorgeous person and I am so thrilled to count her as a dear friend now.

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=BecwNwbgDRA

The songs reminded me of times spent together. The memories made me miss them. The songs and the memories made me grateful to have them in my life.

Today, memory was a teddy bear. A singing, teddy bear, no less.

A Letter to my Blog

Dear Blog,

1) You probably think I'm treating you like Lady Tremaine treated Cinderella. Yes, I googled her name, because I still have a responsibility to my readers...

...those who are left, anyhow :-(

2) You probably think I am taking out my DaddyDearest's death, on you.

3) You probably think I don't have anything to say or record anymore.

4) You probably think I don't love you anymore.

Well, to all that, let me assure you that nothing(s) could be further from the truth.

No, you're not some thingummy that I got forcibly stuck with. I created you because I wanted to. I'm sorry about the neglect. With Baba gone, I seem to have lost a huge sense of drive and motivation. I am guilty of being lazy at the best of times; couple that sin with the meh-blah feeling of pointlessness, then my world will suffer. I'm sorry it had to be you.

I seem to have driven all my faithful readers away...which hurts, and it's all my fault. I hope one day I can rise again from my ashes. I will resurrect you then and hopefully all our old friends will be back, and some new ones too!

I just wish I knew when that day was.

All I can say to you, dear Blog, is, keep singing "I Will Survive"; just that one line, over and over to yourself again and again. Let that one line be our anthem.

Love always,
M4

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!

Shantiniketan and Party Time

So the MIM and I went to Shantiniketan. Suddenly. An impromptu but much needed trip. I won't say much about why we went, except for the fact that a project very close to our hearts required immediate attention. We were supposed to go two weeks ago, but what with the boys being ill, that obviously didn't happen.

So when friends of ours called Friday morning to tell us they were going and would we like to tag along, the MIM jumped at the opportunity. I declined...too much to do here. But an hour before they were scheduled to leave, I felt guilty about letting the MIM go and tackle everything on his own, so I called him up at work and said I'd go too. He was thrilled :)

I quickly coordinated with Maa-Janoni about my kids and I knew they'd be fine. Finally, sometime after one, the PJ couple and their two adorable sons, S1 and S2 arrived and we were on our way. Seeing S1 and S2, both of whom happen to be near about my boys' ages, made my heart ache for my little ones! This was the first time I had ever left both of them behind and gone off somewhere with the MIM. I am hoping this will be the last! ('hoping', I said 'hoping'! Don't want it to turn into a case of famous last words and jinx the proceedings now!)

Shantiniketan is glorious and peaceful and beautiful. It's just nature all around, nature and an awe-inspiring sense of creative energy. It's not beautiful in the picture-postcard sense, but there is that je ne sais quoi about it. A feeling, I guess. Moments waiting to be inhaled in deep lungfuls until it becomes a part of you. My words here cannot begin to do justice to the feelings I associate with the place...it just awakens the poet in me, the country-lover, the nature worshipper, the absolute pagan, Wiccan, songbird that my soul believes itself to be.

Here, I become a Tagorean song. I am batik and kantha and Santhali jewelry. Aami ghono megher chhaya, aami mishti haowaar chhowaa. Aami paakhir daak, aami maatir meye. I start wondering what I'm doing with my life, the sheer materialism of it all and worry about not nourishing my spirit enough. *sigh*

So last night, while one part of me drank deeply of the soil, the other part missed my boys something fierce...especially when I saw the way S1 and S2 were hugging each other in their sleep. Even the MIM stopped short in his tracks as he passed by the doorway and saw them sleeping. He stood there for a long time, looking at them wistfully and smiling a sweet-sad smile.

Never again. *sigh* Never again. I HOPE, I HOPE!! (jinx, anti0jinx, counter-jinx and whatever other jinx-nix there is!!)
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I was in a rush to get back! The YO had a birthday party to attend, at 4.30 and I really wanted him to go. It was his first, official invitation, after all. The first, classmate's-birthday-party! How could he not go? And he was so excited about it too!

Things got off to a late start, we barely finished what we had come for, had lunch and by the time we set off, it was past two! Three hours is the bare minimum that it normally takes...without pee-breaks, cha-breaks and the like. That meant reaching the city by five...if we were lucky!

The MIM flew the car on the highway. Really! And we combined the breaks into a one-stop, do-all break and set off again. We reached home at 5.15! I literally jumped out of the car, made a mad scramble for the flat, changed and wrapped the birthday present in 15 minutes flat! A record! I'm sure!

It was almost 5.40 by the time we left and my little one could hardly contain his excitement! We reached at around 6.10...we had just missed the cake cutting :( but we were just in time for the khoi-bag. I had made a mental promise to my son that I would take him to his very own, first ever officially invited party, even if it was for half-an-hour. And I thank God that I was able to keep my promise to my little boy!

We were there for over an hour and I watched in wonder and happiness as I saw my little boy socialize with his friends, his peer group, his world away from home. I was filled with an indescribable sense of joy that I could do this for my son and be a part of it as well.

I had a lovely time as well and now, I'm finally feeling the strain of the last 48 hours and I'm ready to collapse. Let's not forget the pilates class that I attended before deciding to zoom off on the little road trip! As I feel my butt turn numb while my bones slowly turn to mud, one of my life's greatest truths comes crashing down on me...I'm so not a spring chicken any more. I'm all freeze-dried and rock solid. No amount of thawing is my salvation. I'm old, I'm old, I'm old.

Well, I'm just not young anymore. *sigh*

Bringing Up Vasu: That First Year

I love wit, humour, sarcasm. It should therefore come as no surprise that I totally heart Parul's blog. And even that doesn't begin to cover just how much I love it.

It's because of the way she writes. There's a gentle humour emanating from her writing, like a favourite aroma. It makes you want to read her every morning so that you can start your day with a smile. That's the kind of coffee it is.

So when I found out she was writing a book, I knew that I would love it. And I knew that I wouldn't be able to to be objective about it. It's hard to detach yourself from something you love so much and write with a kind of un-sentimentality, but I'm going to try, nevertheless.

"Bringing Up Vasu: That First Year"...yes, of course I loved it! And not just because it's Parul's writing. But because it is really, REALLY good! It is. It's exactly what you would expect of Paurl...funny. And, here's the delightful thing about it, it's all kinds of funny. There's the tee-hee-hee type; the snort-cackle-guffaw kind; the LOL variety and the simple, pleasant, gentle-smile-about-the- lips style as well.

And here lies the problem. Sometimes, only a very few 'sometimes', the funny seemed forced. The spontaneity was missing and you felt that it had been written for funny's sake. Certain dialogues between Mira and her gal pals seemed contrived. As well as some of the New-Age schemes followed by the mother.

But I don't take that away from the book at all. I personally know how hard it is trying to sustain humour from beginning to end. It's a mammoth task and Parul has done a remarkable job!

But that's really nitpicking, because on the whole the book doesn't just work, it rocks. I found myself impatient to get back to it whenever I was away from it. There's so much to love about it! I was totally into Mira's life and adored her relationship with her adorable hubby. I understood her crazies, her lows and her obsession to her first-born, absolutely through and through. I cheered her on during her exchanges with the dreaded PNx. I cheered Vasu on at the Teddy Footprints interview. And I happily read and re-read 'The Letters From the Edge'; they were hilarious, touching and awww-some at the same time.

You will recognise Parul in the book. And I don't feel that that's such a bad thing. When you're writing about a topic that is not just close to home, but IS home, shades of you, your family and your life experiences are bound to pepper the tale you tell. So the Northie and Tamilian references...fine by me. The letters to Vasu remarkably like the ones Parul wrote to Adi...yup, I'm good with that too.

I'm good with the whole thing. More than good, actually! I'm so totally, absolutely, crowing-from-the-rooftops, jolly, damn good with it that I am hoping and praying for a sequel!

Parul, get cracking already girl!

Super Superheroes

I hate summer term-breaks. And I am not the only mum in town being driven banana-bonkers by two born-restless kids who seem to derive only strength and energy from the Sun. So my friends and I have decided to take turns dumping our kids on each other, thus spreading the madness a bit.

Today is my turn. I am currently looking after (read: 'trying to keep my sanity intact') amidst a group of boys aged between 2-8. Fun times, I tell you! If you consider being locked in a cage full of violent circus monkeys fun.

Before totally coming apart at the seams, I decided to throw the gathering an impromptu Superhero Party, thanks to all the various superhero paraphernalia the EO has accumulated over the last two years due to various birthday parties, loving relatives and successful bouts of emotional blackmail. So, there were two Eon Kids, one Batman, one Black Power Ranger and a small, little orange tiger cub/robot all geared and ready to save the world from the evil machinations of Dr. Grevis (don't ask me, I don't know either!!).

Stroke of genius? I'd like to think so, except I forgot to take into account the total annhilation of my home in the wake of the Earth being saved. So with visions of chaos and destruction laying waste to my beloved bookshelves, paintings and hubby's beloved wall-plasma TV with sound system, I decided to join the fray as the Supreme General.

Shouting out Secret Missions to five extremely excitable Superheroes is hard work. And when those missions are executed successfully within fifteen seconds of implementation, pint-sized Superheroes get exhausted even that much more easily. So they need refreshments. Out came the energy biscuits, the super power chips and mind booster juices. Duly refreshed and energised, our Superheroes were ready for more daunting challenges.

They were sent to locate the super-sonic spaceship that was being built for them for use in a top secret mission. Armed with the magic words, "Hockeldy-pockeldy-phooch-and-poo", which would have to be said in triplicate, they would be able to open the door to the secret cave located at the bottom of Hee-Haw Mountain. That is where they would find the super-sonic spaceship that would blast them off on a mission to the Moon...Dr. Grevis' secret hideaway. Over there, they would have to combine their superpowers to overcome, subdue and eventually defeat the Evil Grevis and transport him, hanging upside down, back to Earth, where he would be lasered into a high-security prison.

Admist all this action, there were lots of tears and high-drama. A stop-over on Dinosaur Planet had our Superheroes defeating the Evil T-Rex Lizard King and making friends with the Spinosaurs and Brontosaurasuses. The Black Power Ranger and Marty the Eon Kid both died, once each, and had to be revived by the magical ministrations of the Supreme General. They energized themselves at the Fountain of Power and were ready to move onto Mars where Dr. Grevis had transported himself.

But eventually, all Superheroes have to answer to a much higher authority named 'Mom'.

It's 8.30 and my two favourite Superheroes are dreaming of their next super adventure.

After all, even Superheroes need their sleep.

Nari Shakti Zindabad!!

I think I may have sent out a wrong signal in yesterdays post. From many of the comments, I feel I've put myself across as someone who doesn't believe in the Pink Chaddi Campaign anymore.

Nothing could be further than the truth.

I have and still am, shouting myself hoarse about this merry band of forward women. I got a cousin SIL to join and have had animated discussions a-plenty with anybody willing to listen...and even not listen. I know for a fact, that thanks to my closest and bestest friend, my chaddi was deposited safe, sound and simmering with all the intentions of letting hell loose, at the Bangalore collection spot.

I was just worrying aloud about whether this will make a difference to Muthalik and his goons. I was worried about how he would retaliate. And I am thrilled to say that I think I have been worrying needlessly. I've been getting/reading lots of reports, all good, from all over the country. I don't want to jinx anything yet by shouting 'Hurrah' and doing a victory dance wearing, what else but, pink chaddies! (in the privacy of my bedroom folks! Even the bathroom mirror shall be spared the horror of that sight!!), but can I safely say, Round 1...the Consortium?

But, I still wouldn't let go of that belan!

Christmas Eve and Day

This Christmas Eve was 'special' because I discovered two facets about myself...I am old and I feel cold.

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?

To New Friends....

Yesterday, I had the wonderful pleasure of meeting some of Kolkata's finest bloggers. (OK, one wasn't a Kolkata blogger, but she originates from here, so there!)

I first went over to Dipali Taneja's (of this and that) home. Gracious, soft-spoken and very welcoming, my brood and I loved her on sight! Within a couple of minutes, he two brats made themselves at home and my EO embarrassed me thouroughly by announcing that he was hungry and he asked Dipali to make him an omelette, his most favourite food in the entire, whole universe. That's right people, I don't feed my kids, which is why they resort to begging when we go to other peoples' homes. As Dipali sprang to the kitchen to make my hungry child an omelette, I was busy giving him the stink-eye and shivering in my wedges, wondering what other child-related embarrassments were in store for me as the evening progressed.

After my hungry little ones guzzeled their orange juice, ate their food, washed up after themselves and paid their respects to Dipali's parents, we proceeded to The Meet! I can't even begin to tell you how excited I was...I'd been looking forward to this th entire week. Our wonderful hostess was Sunayana of Sunny Days. She is warm, funny and just pure masti personified. And the Bhablet! What do I say about him? Words fail me! He is just soooooooo gorgeous, that really...words fail me! Sue, if you're reading this, he really shouldn't be wandering around kaala teekaa-less! Those eyes have totally won me over. He was totally dumbstruck as he silently and unprotestingly watched his kingdom being raided by these two goons who had suddenly appeared from nowhere. But by the end of it, my boisterous dynamo, the YO, had the timid and gorgeous Bhablet, admittedly tentatively, trying out flying leaps and somersaults on the bed. Sue and V, I sincerely apologise for whatever influence my little brat may have had on your little gentleman of a darling!

Soon, we had the other troopers coming in...Eve's Lungs with her two daughters, one of who happens to be studying in my Uni alma mater and Mystic Margarita along with hubby, but sadly minus Popol.

We talked, stuffed our faces, watched the three boys make masti and talked loads more. We talked about our blog personas and other bloggers we love and missed...our virtual friends all over the world!

When it was time to sing "So Long, Farewell...", I was surprised to find everybody passing out gifts and little tokens of love. These wonderful people even had presents for my little ones! I am ashamed to say that I carried nothing with me. Shame, shame, SHAME!! I have a lot to make up for! At the risk of sounding like a B-grade Bangla movie, I went empty-handed but came back 'full-hearted'.

When I started blogging, I never ever imagined that I would be making new friends at my age, but the wonders of blogging never cease to amaze me. One of the many gifts blogging has given me.

My brats and I had a blast and I can't wait for the next one.

Friends and Tagore...

I have always maintained that friends are my lifelines. They fill my life with light and laughter. The past week being what it was, I thought we needed a chance to escape for a few minutes from the all madness and destruction and lose ourselves in stories of our children, work and the latest movies.

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!
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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!

A-Picnicing We Go

Well, I did it again! I tempted fate! Yes, I sure did.

While Wednesday morning was all bright and sunny and beautiful, by the afternoon, the EO started to lose his voice, walk around listlessly and develop a slight temperature. By the evening, the fever was well and truly in place and the Frog King had magically switched voices with my boy.

Not that it stopped him from listening, dancing (read jumping in bendy contortions) and singing (here, read croaking!) to "Where's the Party Tonight?" at least 15 times that day! By the end of it I was feebly mouthing "Where's my sanity right now?"

That night, the EO's fever kept the MIM and me on tenterhooks. The temperature wasn't high or anything, it was just there. While I sent up all sorts of prayers to the Ones Above, I kept a silent vigil over his head. Sometime in the middle of the night, his fever broke and I finally and happily settled myself into the pillows to shut my tired, bloody-red eyes...only to be woken up ten seconds later by my screeching alarm clock! Yes, I'm exaggerating, but it certainly seemed like that! I quickly shut it off, stuffed my face into the pillow and promised myself "Just five minutes!" This time I was woken up by my mobile phone...THIRTY minutes later! My brain was too frazzled to work out what kind of Time Relative Laws were at work, so I just looked at the time and name flashing on my mobile instead. It was the friend who was organising the picnic! Yikes!

With one hand on my son's forehead and my eyes on my sleeping-snoring husband, I answered the phone as sunnily as possible, hoping that it was a voice that would portray that I had been up and about for a long while now.

Friend-G: Hi! Utte gechhish? (Are you up?)

Me: (now on normal days I probably would have snapped, 'Well, I am now!' Truly, this question belongs on the list of the Greatest, Stupidest Questions of All Time, right with 'Have you got a new haircut?', when you so obviously have!! Anyway, I couldn't snap. I was pretending to be sunny and awake, right?) So, Me: HIIIIIIII! Henh, henh! Anik khhon! (Yes, yes! Long time!)
(I think I sounded like one of those drunkards who try too hard to show that they're not drunk, but a-ok, but hopefully she didn't catch on.)

Then, Friend-G went on to rattle off a list of instructions, but since my brain was still shut-down, I didn't register any of it! After she finished, she asked me if I had got all of that and I enthusiastically replied in the affirmative!

My morning mug of coffee-flavoured milk helped my brain switch on and I went about trying to organise things that I would need for a picnic; things that are usually written on a list and brought together the night before the day of the picnic, But hello! This is M4 and she's the one who starts packing her entire household, belongings and life into boxes and crates an hour before the packers are due to arrive to transport them from City A to City B.

Right...I am digressing way too much here. Let me edit all the un-fun bits and shorten my ramblings. Suffice to say, that I got my band of Merry Men ready in record time and bundled into the car, just in time for another family of four to pull up into our garage, all set to go a-picnicing! The EO was all excited about inaugurating his wooden cricket set at the picnic. It was but into a fancy holder with a strap and everything and my EO slung it on across his shoulder and strutted (read struggled) about with the paraphernalia that was almost as tall as him. He looked at the full-length mirror and said, "I am looking handsome, naa?" Awww, my baby! When do you not?

Well, after all the petrol-filing, air-in-the-tyres checking and sandwich buying, we were all happily on our way to Raichauk, a gorgeous piece of heaven attached to The Ffort Radisson, a one-hour-and-fifteen-minute drive away. We all met up near IIM Joka and carried on.

I can not begin to describe to you the beauty of the place. Green, green, green as far as the eye can see. The Ganga flows on one side and there are gorgeous cottages and bungalows dotted throughout the place on the other.

The picnic was exactly what he doctor had ordered. The kids ran around all day, feed huge geese, the husbands played cricket with their little ones and we womenfolk went for long walks and exchanged tidbits, catching up on each others' lives. We lunched at a lovely Indian restaurant on the premises, called The Courtyard, and we were ravenous. The food was delicious, but maybe it's because we had worked up quite an appetite...who knows, who cares? The bottom line? The food was delicious.

Erm, I can feel many of your brows forming question marks and wondering "Picnic? Restaurant?" and I don't blame you. We did indeed pack food and drinks. We packed breakfast, Vodka, Bacardi and chips. Isn't that what a picnic spread is made up of? (she asks all sweetly and innocently...)

All in all, the picnic was FANTASTIC! At times filmi thanks to some moments of drama, at times as noisy as a birthday party thanks to all the cricket and at times serene thanks to all the lying about wordlessly and peacefully.

The drive back was slow thanks to all the traffic, but it was also nice since we sighted a couple of trucks carrying idols of West Bengal's favourite Goddess and Her Children. Yes, Durga Puja is just a few days away! The festival of madness, chaos and traffic jams is just a few days away. But attached to all the noise and commotion are sights of such creative wonder; idols crafted with such beauty, dedication and devotion; and pandals that are absolute architectural marvels, that you really would't want to be anywhere else.

But of course, that's another post waiting to happen! In the meanwhile, thank you Friend-G for organising this outing and for bring all our friends together! Can we have another one please?