FaceBuking my life

Today I changed my Relationship status on FaceBook from "Married" to "Its complicated."

For a change hubby noticed and asked me about it.

Look at the things I have to do to grab his eyeballs!!!

Undeserving

This morning my daughter walked out of the house for school in a huff. She left her breakfast uneaten, the cup of milk untouched.

All because as I braided her hair, I gave her a piece of mind for being rude, for answering back, for not knowing how to "talk to mama" over a trivial issue...

I know that she will have forgotten the incident by evening and will come home with her usual smile and hugs...

Somehow I have an expectation - of being treated and spoken to like a "mom" and I don't know if its misplaced... My reaction to this sense of loss of control or authority has left me sad, confused and embarrassed!

There's much I need to learn to be a mother worthy of such beautiful kids...

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Temped to share this... Whacked it off Arunima's blog.. Thank you!!!

Before I was a Mom I made and ate hot meals.

I had unstained clothing, I even took pleasure in shopping.

I had quiet, uninterrupted conversations on the phone.

I had privacy in the bathroom.

Before I was a Mom, I slept as late as I wanted and never cared about the time I went to bed.

I was able to sleep the entire night uninterrupted and woke up with a feeling of being well-rested and ready for a new day.

Before I was a Mom, I never got up every few minutes, stopping whatever I was doing - voluntarily, just to be sure all in the house was okay or to lay my hand on the back of a sleeping child to be sure they were breathing and not feverish.

I brushed my hair and my teeth every day. I enjoyed leisurely bubble baths whenever I wanted.

I had time to clean house and read a magazine.

Before I was a Mom, I renewed my spirit by having lit candles burning all through the house; never nervous about that practice injuring fingers or being a fire hazard.

I never tripped over toys or forgot words to lullabies and nursery rhymes. I was confident.

I was not concerned about the paint on the wall, leaving a window open or the front gate unlocked.

I never worried whether or not my houseplants were poisonous or what I kept under the kitchen sink or where I kept the sharp knives.

I never gave a second thought to the safety of electrical outlets or the accessibility of the medicine chest.

Before I was a Mom, the word "immunizations" meant almost nothing to me. 

I had never held down a screaming, fearful child so that a doctor could do tests or give shots.

I had never been puked on, spit on, chewed on, pooped and peed on or pinched by tiny fingers.

I had forgotten how real monsters hide in closets without a night-light on and that bed-bugs bite too.

Before I was a Mom, I had complete control of my thoughts, my emotions, my body and my money.

I never looked into little teary eyes and cried myself. 

I never got gloriously happy over a simple grin.

I never sat up late watching a child sleep, while praying over their future and being thankful to God for today.

Before I was a Mom, I never felt my heart break into a million pieces when I couldn't stop the physical pain or ease the emotional hurt.

I never knew that something so small could affect my life so much.

I never knew that I could love someone so much. I never knew I would love being a Mom.

Before I was a Mom, I didn't know the feeling of having my heart outside my body, or the necessity of having eyes in the back of my head, or the importance of having three hands.

I didn't know how special it would feel to hold and feed a hungry baby, kiss a boo-boo or to offer comfort in the middle of a thunder storm.


I never held a sleeping infant because I did not want to let go.


I never knew the delight of small arms hugging my neck.

I didn't know the bond between a Mother and her child could be so strong.

Before I was a Mom, I did not know anyone so small could make me feel so important and needed.

I had taken for granted the special moments and milestones I had been blessed to witnessed in the lives of others - like first steps and first words - the sound of a tiny voice whispering "Mommy?" for the first time - the discovery of rain and snow - the first taste of a cookie - and so much more.

No, I had never experienced the warmth, joy, heartache, wonderment, commitment, responsibility or the satisfaction that comes from the knowledge and understanding of what it means to be willing to self-sacrifice.

Now, I can appreciate the over-protectiveness of my own Mom, because I didn't know I was capable of feeling so much - before I was a Mom.

I can't speak Marathi but I do love Maharashtra

Long ago I wrote a post on the regional rhetoric that some politicians in Maharashtra were indulging in. I was unhappy not only because technically I am a North Indian living in Maharashtra but I am also a hybrid of our beautiful multi-cultural country.

But those were the days when my love affair with Pune had only just begun and soon the rhetoric faded into the background. The salubrious weather, the friendly people...there was so much so beautiful about this new city we'd chosen to call home.

I was so busy soaking the vibrancy of the city that I didn't realise I'd lived here for four years and committed the biggest faux pas of all - hadn't learnt to speak Marathi.

My work involves meeting people from all walks of life. So while some days I am leaving harried footprints in the corridors of the municipal corporation, on other days I am sipping tea in the air conditioned comfort of the district collector's office.

All this while - from the peons to the officers I met, no one was uncomfortable with the fact that I couldn't speak Marathi, although I could understand a lot of the local dialect.

When close friends or well wishers quizzed me on the progress of my language skills, I reassured them that I was on my way. Soon I had promised myself I would be able to speak like any Puneri.

Imagine then my shock and indignation when during a meeting with an IAS officer (a Maharashtrian) I was asked to read a letter he'd written in response to the issue I was sitting in his office and shamelessly raising (much to his annoyance), and I informed him apologetically that I could not read Marathi, he actually ridiculed me for not learning the language!

What irked me was that he, an IAS officer who'd chosen to join the cadre of his home state and not serve the citizens of another state (may be because he doesn't know any other Indian language) had no idea that I am a North Indian who was born and raised in Kerala, had Tamilian neighbours, Gujarati and Punjabi friends and married a Telugu speaking guy, and can speak all the languages of these regions in addition to my mother tongue Hindi and English!

Needless to say, my pride and ego propped me up against his tirade and I informed him rather haughtily that I was able to get by with Hindi and English even in Maharashtra. 

And even as I uttered the words with a I-don't-care-who-you-are demeanour (while I was seething inside), I knew what I'd said wasn't true. I was making a genuine effort to learn the language and I'd often try my limited vocabulary on unsuspecting souls...simply because I love languages!!! 

Now, I am pissed off and unsure. Do I let his ignorance get the better of me, or do I ignore such nasty and unbecoming remarks?

Or better still, do I barge into his office and tell him what I really think???