On the one hand, despair and utter hopelessness. On the other, total extinction. What should I choose?

Flight

She hadn't moved since the previous night. Hunger it seems did not bother her. After all, she was to be a mother soon. And once the baby arrived, food would be one of the first few things she would compromise on, smiled Shalini.  

Sighing, she took another sip of Green Tea. Something she had recently discovered. Not that she liked it. She wanted to banish her caffeine addiction and a colleague suggested she try Green Tea, and that very evening, on her way home from office, she'd dropped in at the 'frequented by firangs only' supermarket to pick the tea. She'd also read somewhere that it would help in clearing the complexion. Truth or fabrication, she didn't care. She really DID need something to remove the bags under her eyes. If drinking Green Tea didn't help, she'd try placing the tea bag on her eyes she thought and smiled to herself at the mere idea.  

Peeping into the bare refrigerator, she contemplated on what she could give the young mother. What do pigeons eat anyway? There was some left over spaghetti, and rice, and some dal. Shalini scooped a bit of everything, placed it on a tissue and gingerly opened the window to place the offering on the ledge.

The pigeon seemed petrified. She tucked her winged body into the furthest corner of the ledge, uncertain at the purpose of this unwelcome intervention. Isn't it strange, thought Shalini, that I can see the fear in a pigeon's eyes, and no one can see it in mine? Am I too perceptive or is the world around me just totally blind?

She scanned through the morning paper gulping down the remnants of the pale concoction. Trash, she thought as she read that hell had broken loose in Brangelina heaven ultimately. Although she didn't really care about celebrities and their lives, she'd often marvelled at their ability to walk away.

What did they do first? Pack their clothes, like all of them? Including the sexy lingerie? Or did they pack just enough for a few days, returning later for more? How did they decide what footwear to take along? What about stuff like the expensive China…or the antique bedside table gifted to them by a dear friend? Or even the coasters that she just could not do without? Or her prized possessions, the World Book set she had paid an exhausting EMI for?

Walking away in a huff is easier when you’ve planned what you want to take with you, she thought. The first step is to KNOW what you want. In a three bedroom apartment, where every piece of furniture, wall hanging or painting, had a story to tell, deciding what is important would take a lot of deep thinking.

Perhaps, that is why I’ve failed so far, she mulled. Because I can’t make up my mind if I want to take a couple of suitcases or leave with a backpack.

And then, the bigger question, where would she go? Move into a nondescript apartment and pay prohibitive rentals? Or suffer the Paying Guest rigmarole to save precious money?

Under the shower, as she soaped her recently-waxed legs, her mind raced back to the pigeon again. I must leave her a bowl of water, she thought. The weather had turned ugly that Summer and although the eggs would hatch any day, Shalini knew that the bird would not venture away even if the heat killed her.

Picking the keys, she slung the satchel over her shoulder before she bent down to stir Karan. I’m leaving she said. Ok he responded. He’s going to have a hangover I’m sure she thought. These so-called office parties, late nights on a weekday, she sighed. He is so goddamned lucky!

An uneventful day progressed slowly. Not a single call or visitor. I am a customer care exec in a Bank and I’ve counted the minutes today, she thought wryly. Sign of the times perhaps. A career that was going nowhere and a relationship that seemed to be gathering steady momentum, downhill.

There was a time when thinking of him felt like a whiff of gentle breeze on a hot, sultry and still afternoon, refreshing yes, but also calming. Now, when she forced herself to think of the ‘good times’ she could barely smile. Lately she’d had to turn up the volume of the car stereo to distract herself, fearful of the mad thoughts that momentarily possessed her. And isn’t that all it took? A fleeting deviation to ram head-on into a speeding luxury bus…?

Photographs hung carefully under canopied lights ‘for the right effect’, covered pale white walls, showcasing images of Karan and her, laughing over a joke, watching the sunset, taking para gliding vacations and posing at numerous weddings…the perfect couple. Okay. Maybe not perfect. But near perfect.

How sad it would be to break the charade. And moreover, camouflaging her real feelings was easier than tackling the Oh-I-am-so-sorry-for-you looks. 

Troubled by her unending silences, her sister had asked her, but she’d been too reticent to say anything. Is it another woman? Does he hit you? What is the matter? Tell me Shalu, she’d begged. 

And Shalini had remained transfixed by the absurdity of her situation. None of the above, she’d have answered in response to the multiple choice barrage.

Back home that evening, she headed straight for the window and noticed that the food had gone. Satisfied, she placed a bowl of filtered drinking water for the mother to-be and stood watching the winged being for what seemed like an eternity.

Madam, I am going, called the cook, but Shalini didn’t hear.

They never found her, dead or alive. What they did find was a list of favourite articles in her handwriting and a couple of randomly noted numbers of PG accommodations near her workplace. She hadn’t visited even one of them, informed the cops. She was planning to move out. Maybe she just ran away with a lover or friend, they added, eager to close the case. They had better things to do than track a woman who did not want to be found.

Karan could not protest. There was no other ‘logical’ explanation. Maybe she did take a lover. She just wasn’t herself recently, he thought. He shook hands with the PI and thanked him for his help.

He’d have to take down all the photographs, and move her clothes to the guest room. Her sister had promised to drop by and sort through her stuff. He was too distraught to do it himself.

He walked to the window and saw the two babies, featherless yellow creatures, with the pink of their skin showing through the soft yellow hair, black beaks and frail limbs, breathing deep. My God they’re ugly, he exclaimed aloud. Just as he turned, he saw a pigeon swoop down into the nest.

She made herself at home and turned to face him. And then he saw them. Through the glass. Her eyes. Unmistakable.  

Happy Birthday Abhir

I woke him this morning and sang Happy Birthday to him...hugging him and holding him close. He heard me and smiled. Eyes closed, he kept smiling as the Birthday song was done and I began kissing him. 

A little later he came back to me and wanted another Birthday wish. "Say Happy Birthday to me again."

An hour later, as he got ready for the day-care, another Birthday wish demand. 

And in my mind, I've been 'wishing' since the day he was born.

6 years. Another milestone.

Last year, he turned five and I heaved a sigh of relief, thinking and thanking God that his struggles were finally over. But I was mistaken. My little boy was destined to fight his way through and another battle has begun. This one is already draining us of our energy. But it can't rob us of our optimism. We are fighters, and so is he. We will fight and we will triumph.

My words to him would simply be:

Kyun is kadar hairan tu

Mausam ka hai mahmaan tu

Duniya saji, tere liye

Khud ko zara pehchan tu

Tu dhoop hai

Chan se bikhar

Tu hai nadi

O bekhabar

Beh chal kahin,

Ud chal kahin

Dil khush jahan

Teri to manzil hai wahin!

As his favourite didi Rashmi says, "Recognise the potential of your child and KEEP THE FAITH!"

Happy Birthday meri jaan!

 

कभी कभी मेरे दिल मैं ख्याल आता है

की ये बदन ये निगाहें मेरी अमानत हैं

की तू मुझे चाहेगी उम्र भर यूँही 

उठेगी मेरी तरफ प्यार की नज़र यूँही

मैं जानता हूँ मैं गैर हूँ, मगर यूँही

कभी कभी मेरे दिल मैं ख्याल आता है.....

My Vote counts Mr Thackeray

Hubby and I have enrolled into the voter's list in Pune. The procedure was a lot easier than we'd anticipated.

Now there are two more votes that will count. 

Suresh Kalmadi: We've been in Pune for just about three years and noticed that the only time you actually made your presence in this city was during the CYG. Else it seems you care two hoots about the constituency that took you to the Lok Sabha. We've seen your pictures flashed in several Page 3 dos. But seldom seen a comment or remark about the poor state of this city. What have you done for the city in these five years? Now you come back begging for votes and claim you have an action plan for Pune called Vision 2020. Where was this foresight when you were elected the last time around? Would Pune have the worst traffic in the country? Would it bear the brunt of 'no planning' and an absolutely lackadaisical attitude of the powers that be on all fronts, including civic issues and the rapid urbanisation? Would Pune have gone from Pensioner's Paradise to Paradise Lost (I take the liberty of using John Milton's famous poem)? Think about it: Do you really deserve my vote?

MNS Candidate: I am a North Indian who is a voter in Maharashtra. Now! How the hell did that happen. Fortunately for the country, the CONSTITUTION still views us as 'Indians' first! Can you get past the anti-North Indian tirade and get my Vote? Didn't think you would be interested. But mark my words when I say, "My vote counts Mr Thackeray."

D S Kulkarni: Whaaaatttt? How come? Shocking! How can Mayawati override the VERY reason BSP gained popularity since the days of Kanshi Ram? Dalit politics, caste politics...forgotten to get votes? Whatever happened to "ideology"? Tut! Tut!

Choosing someone from a cesspool of 'politicians' is going to be tough call. But I am certain that my vote will count..at the end of the day!

All the way

When somebody loves you 
It's no good unless he loves you - all the way 
Happy to be near you 
When you need someone to cheer you - all the way 

Taller than the tallest tree is 
That's how it's got to feel 
Deeper than the deep blue sea is 
That's how deep it goes - if its real 

When somebody needs you 
It's no good unless he needs you - all the way 
Through the good or lean years 
And for all the in-between years - come what may 

Who knows where the road will lead us 
Only a fool would say 
But if you'll let me love you 
It's for sure I'm gonna love you - all the way, all the way 

No. I didn't write it. 

Kids grow up real fast. There are a lot of things I missed chornicling when my daughter was growing up. No blogs you see. But with my son, I've done a fair bit of memorable writing; stories I hope will bring a smile to his face when he grows up as it does mine when I read them.

Was prompted to write this post because every time we (Oorja, Abhir and I) are travelling together (minus the dad), using the restroom becomes a big issue. A few years ago, Abhir didn't understand the difference. Now he does. He stops in his tracks, be it on an airport, or a restaurant, claiming "This is a girl's toilet." He refuses to come in and do his business.

The big problem with letting him go to a gents restroom is that the urinals are too high for him and sometimes, especially in cinemas Ive been told, they do not have a closed door toilet that this little fellow can use. And frankly speaking, I am uncomfortable having a stranger help him do the job! So I just insist that he accompanies me and his sister to the ladies room.

One of my friends once remarked "Tell him to enjoy using the ladies' room while he can!" Anyway, it is a tug of war and I usually win. I know before long he will be old enough to move to the opposite door and that will be yet another 'oh he's grown up!' moment.

I can also remember very clearly the time when as a two year old he had to be taught to pee standing up. I blogged about it then and can't resist posting it here. Have fun reading!

How do you teach a little boy to pee standing up….especially if the teacher (in this case, ME) has no personal experience in the field?

It is not as easy as I’d imagined and soon found out… 

Step one: Take off the shorts.

Step two: Pull in a stool and place it right in front of the WC.

Step three: Put the bachcha on the stool facing the WC with you standing close behind him. {He may look like he is about to fall head long into it coz he has never seen the WC from this angle, and is majorly curious. So, hold on to him REAL TIGHT!}

Step four: Coo sweet words of initiation….that may go something like this, “hi lil baby, wannna pee? See how nice this big potty is? Wow…lil baby’s gonna pee in here!” 
TIP: Make it sound like a nursery rhyme coz two year olds think any activity that can be undertaken with singing is FUN.

Step five: Hold his penis. Now this is the toughest part of all. His penis is so small, you have to hold it with two fingers and will still be scared of hurting him coz YOU don’t know how much pressure on the thing is painful and how much pressure, acceptable…..

Step six: With trepidation, hold it and aim….and wait. Coz the pressure has to build up from inside…especially with my son, who has never been able to pee with the shoo and shaa sounds….

Before we can proceed to step seven, in walks the five year old sister with the elder sis gait and command. My first thought, why didn’t I lock the door?

Sister - “What are YOU doing mama?”
Me - “Teaching Abhir to pee.” 
Sister - “Why?” 
Me - “So he can pee like papa.”
Sister - “Papa stands and pees?”

 
Uh-oh….. 

Me - “Yes. All boys stand and pee.” 
Sister - “Oh. Can I watch?” 
Me - “Ummmm…ok.”

She leans over your left shoulder, peering into the WC, asking” mama, can I touch it?” She actually means that she just wants to help you by holding his thing for him. However, the being with the delicate apparatus senses immediate danger and in his two year old prattle shouts, "No. No didi. Mama touch,” followed by “go didi. Go….” 

A fist fight seems almost inevitable at this point.

By this time, you are out of patience coz you have been doubled over, peering into the WC and let me assure you; it is not a convivial sight at all….while you’d rather be elsewhere, doing something less strenuous on your back muscles, eyes and nose. Moreover, by this time, the muscles in your fingers are aching from holding the apparatus as lightly as possible. 

Suddenly Step seven is activated: A stream…that the two year old is thrilled at viewing and wants to shove off your (now) expert fingers to take complete control. Thankfully, by the time the jostling is over, (with hollers of “stop it Abhir” by the sis in the background), the ordeal is done with.

Step eight: Pull up the shorts and get out of the loo. Had enough of examining it from such close quarters for a day.

Ofcourse, every experience teaches you something and it is this great insight that I intend sharing through this post.

So my number one tip for moms of lil boys who have to be taught how to pee standing up: LEAVE IT TO THE DADS. 

This is one father-son activity I assure you, you will be happy to be excluded from!

Recession? Humbug!

"Leadership is a matter of having people look at you and gain confidence, seeing how you react. If you're in control, they're in control. " - Tom Landry

There are inappropriate things people do at totally inappropriate times. Take the Holi bash of Vineet Jain, Managing Director of Bennett, Coleman & Co Ltd (BCCL), publishers of the Times of India for example. Touted to be the biggest and the best bash in Delhi circuits, the photographs of this party were splashed all over TOI, even in the Pune Times. 

I am shocked.

BCCL is one company that amongst the other affected industries such as IT, has been cutting jobs left, right and centre. At the TOI Pune edition, people are being given pink slips as the management cites 'revenue falls' as a major reason. I have seen several people being given a couple of days notice to leave, amongst them people I have closely worked with over the past 18 months or so. The fear of more job cuts weighs heavy on the minds of the other staff, as performance is no longer the criteria. 

My brother who was employed with Zoom TV (a BCCL product) was given the pink slip a few days ago. 'Cost cutting' reason was cited. He has also been given less than a month's notice to look for another job. 

My brother's girl friend who was employed with Timesjobs.com was caught in a similar predicament and was given just one week to pack up and leave! This, when she was one amongst the top performers in her region. She didn't share a good rapport with the immediate boss and when he was asked to cut his team down, he simply axed her. 

It is common knowledge that some of the BCCL ventures such as indiatimes.com are also in the red as far as revenue figures go and it is only a matter of time before more jobs are cut.

Losing a job is not simply about losing your source of income. You lose your self esteem, your confidence and your optimism when you are asked to resign because the company claims it can no longer afford to keep you on it's payrolls. In these tough recessionary times, finding another suitable opportunity is an uphill task. Meanwhile, your sense of self worth takes a battering, affecting your mental and emotional being.

How then, can Vineet Jain justify throwing such a lavish party when all the companies under his wing are chopping people's jobs to 'cut costs'? Shouldn't he set an example by cutting costs himself? Or is this 'loss of revenue' or claims of the effects of recession etc a mere garb to cut down expenses and lay people off? Does this also uphold the startling reality that employees of such companies are just coming to terms with, that the recession has hit THEM and not the bosses and owners of companies, whose lifestyle and expenses remain as they are?

Even if for a moment we assume that the man has the right to have a party for such a 'special' occasion (and yes, I am being very sarcastic here), should he splash the pictures all over the media? Isn't it a blatant subversion of the basic principles of decency?

And quite frankly, aren't all of India's corporate bigwigs, who are laying employees off as a matter of right (samjha karo bhai, recession hai), subverting procedures and contractual obligations such as mandatory notice periods etc (just because the employee will not seek redress in a court of law - who has the time or the money?) in their madness to 'cut costs' just as guilty as Jain? Aren't they victimising the employees claiming its "RECESSION"? 

"Outstanding leaders go out of the way to boost the self-esteem of their personnel." - Sam Walton

Clearly the corporate biggies of our country are not one of them.

 

Indian way of life

The toughest thing about living in a home thats 8-10 years old is maintenance. Having lived in 'sarkari quarters' for about 11 years of our life together, my hubby and I are used to living in a home that demands a lot of your time and attention. 

Taps leak, cupboards don't close, pests are the norm of the day and of course, walls chip. I remember my consternation one day when a chunk of our balcony ledge just broke off and flew down 8 stories! Luckily it was the middle of the afternoon and there was no one under the building. 

The saving grace to all this maintenance work was the fact that the people needed to carry them out (carpenters, electricians, plumbers, masons etc) were all a complaint away. In any fauji locality the maintenance is handled by a core group and all an officer/resident has to do is walk down to the complaint cell and make a written complaint. Their response time wasn't great and often we'd rant about how poorly they'd be equipped (once the plumber didn't have a wrench!!), or how there would always be a 'shortage' of essential spares etc. 

Nevertheless, whether we fought our way through or used the 'request' tactic, work almost always got done.  

Remember, this is also the phase when you live under severe budget constraints. So when you move into an apartment after being posted to a new city, you will wait for the maintenance group to carry out works for you, however long it takes. You simply cannot afford to get it done through an outside agency!

Out of the fauj for two and a half years and we've realised, the tough way, that these 'perks' and 'benefits' are actually priceless and quite irreplaceable. 

Today, it is impossible to find an electrician who will come home to fix things. It is too 'small' a job for them. They don't want to waste precious man hours fixing a couple of 5amp connections when they can be employed by a construction company doing contract jobs that possibly pay better. Ditto for a carpenter and plumber. 

So we are usually left high and dry when it comes to taking care of an apartment that is, as I mentioned, already over 8 years old. There are serious plumbing issues getting aggravated day by day. And even if we manage to convince someone to come work, we have to ensure that there is a substantial amount of work to make it worth his while (even if it means living with a broken table leg for months together).

Flip side, when we hear how people in Sweden or Finland manage their own repairs, it seems like a lesson worth emulating. A bit of hard work never hurt anyone but heck, do we really have it in us to take on such responsibility? Apart from stocking the home with adequate tools, we'd also have to keep spares. Would we do that? And time. Do we have the time for it? Can we ever get that independant? Will we ever get out of the Indian way of life? 

The trigger for this post is the fact that a cupboard door in the kids' room just fell off today, hanging as it was on three hinges fastened with one screw each. Oorja pulled the door open and felt it coming off, moved sideways swiftly, averting a potential and serious accident (the door is goddamn heavy!) The door crashed to the ground, and she is thankfully safe. Now the golden quetion on our minds is, when will it be fixed? 

If we are to go by our 'so far' experiences in Pune, it should take a couple of months! We could do it ourselves next weekend, but question is, would we?

All for a charitable cause

He was articulate. A lot better than all those fumbling youngsters who ring a door bell in the middle of the afternoon, claiming to be Management Trainees representing a charitable organisation; looking for a few minutes of our precious time to update us on their good work, seeking (quite obviously) our 'help'. 

Most times I hear these people patiently, offer them a glass of water and usually end up giving them a cheque. I mentioned in a TAG previously that I cannot say NO to a charity. Me thinks this news has spread across the neighbourhood and there has been a sudden deluge of 'volunteers' seeking such 'help'. 

A few weeks ago I was forced to turn down a well meaning woman simply because she wanted me to shell out more than the 'reasonable' amount I was offering. I didn't quite like her tactic and politely asked her to leave. When she didn't, I woke hubby who was napping on a sunday afternoon, and asked him to show the good lady out. 

Anyways, here I was getting prepared to leave home on an important errand in the sweltering heat of the afternoon, when the door bell rang and there stood this...this...Greek God.

Tall, as good looking as they come...what got me was the way he spoke. Literally took my breath away. Quite simply, he has now raised the bar for such volunteers. 

Anyway, he came in and sat down and took me through the motions. Claimed he is an Engineer and does this simply as a volunteer (a ploy I didn't quite buy). Anyway, as is the norm, he got me to sign a cheque for an 'unmentionable' amount. No pressure. (I really think the charity is doing a GOOD job ;-)). I volunteered.

I wonder what it was. My present state of mind, wherein this simple interaction made me forget my burdens for a while? Or...do I have something for PYTs...?...(its wrong to classify him so, but heck he was!!) Or was it the ease with which we formed an instant connection (he is the son of an Army officer and he loves Delhi too)? Or his simple and extremely friendly manner? Or his total and absolute charm?

Ah! Who cares. The cheque should be in the Bank for clearance soon and although hubby darling is having second thoughts about it (wonder why), I am feeling a lot better than I have in the last couple of days. It was totally worth it!!!