Ahoy Captain! 10 questions answered

Captain Paul asked 10 questions, anyone can answer and I have been answering them since morning, since I read his questions.

Floating in my head all day ,I thought, why not blog it. Been lazy with this blog anyways. Here is an inspiration to write and here is the blog.

Paul – Totally ire-relevant, Do you know you have the most handsome Prime Minister in recent time ? But probably, you already know that and it doesn’t matter 🙂

Now, that I have said that to a Canadian, lets begin, answering 10 questions . Like I said, anyone can attempt this quiz, go ahead and tell your secrets out there in blogosphere. Link it back to his post, like am doing here.

What is the best hiding spot in your current place of residence?
I live in an apartment , it will take anyone about 5 minutes to reach every nook of this apartment However, this shouldn’t stop anyone from trying to hide here, a special mention of my 8-year-old boy, who thinks, hiding or rather standing next to the refrigerator, covering his face with both his palms or hands, will make him invisible. Gives a new meaning to hiding in plain sight. Ain’t it?

The person walking in front of you drops $20 on the ground and doesn’t notice. What do you do?
First, that person got to be a visiting guest from other country. We can drop 20 Indian Rupees here, not $. Any dollar present in anyone’s wallet here , must be placed in that special compartment of wallet which is reserved for foreign currencies, occasionally taken out to show off to friends or kids. ( PS: I have AUS Dollars, Did you know Aussies make their money water-proof , how cool is that ! ). Second, such a person carrying such a currency will have presence of mind to notice its fall as soon as the bank note begin its fall !

So really, I needn’t do anything because the second part of your question Paul, “Doesn’t notice.”.. hmm. fat-chance. However, its your quiz, I could hear you say “Let’s assume, it does happen , the guy doesn’t notice, his mind is elsewhere, on that pani-puri stall that just opened after lockdown”

I will call out and hand him his money, actually, I may just call out and show him where his money dropped. Not wise to touch notes, these days – don’t you think?. This also begs question, what was the person doing carrying 20$ in India, just instruct him to install one of those payment apps and carry mobile everywhere and he will be fine. Keep your shiny waterproof money home!

In elementary school, I read a book called, Lost in the Barrens. What is a book you read in school and what do you remember about it?
I don’t remember reading books in my school time. We had a book with short stories called “Read for Pleasure”, but unlike schools these days here, I don’t recall being asked to read a whole literature book . Sad. I know.

I remember reading The Gift of the Magi. Great Story, although , thinking about it now, I see the wife was smart, her hair will grow back and she can use the comb her husband got. Can’t say the same about her husband though. Women were always smarter.

I remember reading about Venice, the city of canals. And I fell in love with the thought of it. Ever since then, I desire to visit the city some day. See the picture above? It isn’t Venice, but beautiful anyhow, Eh? It’s our very own Shikara ride on Dal lake.

In Eminem’s song, “Lose Yourself,” he says: “There’s vomit on his sweater already, mom’s spaghetti.” Describe, in detail, your ideal pasta meal.
Does it have to be a pasta meal? I mean, it isn’t staple here. Okay, now I can hear you saying – you can describe in detail, any of your favorite meal and this is how this question was lingering in my mind since morning , My mind may have read it the way it wanna answer.

So my favorite meal is any meal made by my mother aka Ma. You will hear most of us, Indians saying that. Not because we are emotional children but literally , that is how it is. Mother’s make the best food here , albeit , best and favorite of her child. Not that my son can say the same about his mother’s cooking.

Anyhow, to continue with the answer, I have tried to re-create my mother’s recipe and it just doesn’t have the same taste. Can’t get the same pleasing aroma, the same crisp and curry and the right amount of masala! I miss all her fish curry and that effortlessly fried-vegetable-dish made with veggies that she picked out of her kitchen garden, tossed it in the Kadai with mustard oil and salt. Its definitely magic that you can make such a delicious food with just those 3 simple ingredients – mustard oil , salt and vegetable.

The other lady who makes best meal is my mother-in-law. She is jack of all, can create a masterpiece out a very banal , undistinguished veggie like bitter-gourd. Yes, Bitter-gourd, you heard it right! And she just doesn’t stop at that, her sweet treats are straight out of heaven’s kitchen. She can transform the humble bread into royal shahi-tukda and give a new meaning to roti(Indian bread) layered with sweet-jaggery-mixed-coconut, (my mouth is watering, just thinking about it right now) I can’t even name it, because she literally discover recipes .. nameless , heavenly food.

Am missing food, and moms of-course!

By the way, We can’t put vomit and mom’s spaghetti in the same sentence.

If you and a partner went on The Amazing Race, would you be the driver, or the navigator in the backseat with a map? Explain your choice.
Let me dig into one of my old blog for this, yup, here is the detail explanation as you asked to explain.

TL:DR – Am not a person who can be associated with driving or navigating. Am devoted to either enjoying the view passing by or dozing off. Or commenting on my husband “hey – why don’t you place both of your feet on the car seat, just like me, relax, this is our car and that is our road ” , If you didn’t laugh at that line, let me explain, it sounds very sarcastic when said in Hindi, to a husband who is trying to be both navigator and driver at the time when google map wasn’t popular while his wife sits on passenger seat napping.

These days, I still doze off or enjoy view outside while google aunty is telling my husband to take the next right. Amazing Race must be amazing, can’t pass that view. But this isn’t answering your question ..right?

I will be navigator, lesser of the two devil and I cant drive.

In Home Alone 2, Kevin (a 10-year-old boy) ended up in New York by himself, while his entire family was in Florida. What is something you did when you were 10-years-old, that “kids these days” wouldn’t understand?
Cassettes? Do you know what it is?And what do we do with it?

Is Tic-Tac-Toe a fair game?
Yes, ask my husband, he bought a game of Tic-Tac-Toe and now has many tricks up his sleeve , including for one when he is handling O’s and not X’s.

It wasn’t a fair game before he bought that.

Velma, from the Scooby-Doo series, is known for losing her glasses. If you were a character in a TV show, what would you be known for?
Either I will be known for freezing or laughing, I took part in a play when I was 12 and this was the revelation. If I see those blinding lights, I will freeze.

Or I will be laughing hard at the straight face actor trying to do his job. I will be known for the one who was laughing during a mourning scene or standing straight face during a really emotional scene.

What causes you to lose your temper?
When people are blocking the panel that shows the floor the elevator is now, while am waiting for it to arrive. Most of the elevator has that panel above , so everyone can see where the hell it is , but I have been through few, that has it on the side and people stand in front of it, knowing very well that they aren’t see-through. I get impatience as I don’t know how long I will have to wait, 2 minutes or 2 sec? , Is it arriving soon or stuck at 2 floors above? Can I reach faster by taking the stairs….. and so on. I hope you get the gist !

When am calling out to my son who is right here, right here as in right here sitting in front of me but won’t acknowledge me back when I yell his name. I think it is every mother’s problem here, kids just go deaf when you want them to listen. Just reply “Yes Mummy” and I will know my words of wisdom has passed through that skull of yours!

How many contacts in your phone have you not communicated with in the last three years?
This was an embarrassing question in the morning with a deep philosophical meaning, or maybe still is. But now, middle of the night, I think it is not.

I mean, I have contact number of the guy who fixed my chimney 4 years ago , at least 3 contacts who supply daily grocery to home and I may have dropped one of them, but the number is fed already. So the answer to this question is “loads” and no deeper meaning than this.

THE BONUS QUESTIONS

Think about items you might find in a Lost & Found. Now, draw as many of those items as you can in 60 seconds. Share your picture.

Lost & Found of where? I never had a lost and found at my school. My son has it. They just display every item in the lobby of the school. I have never been to Lost & Found of Mall or Airports…

I think , I will pass. No answer or rather no picture.

Text someone, “I can’t find my phone.” What is their reply?

Let me see who can I torture. I texted two of my friends.

After 30 minutes: They didn’t notice yet. I suppose Friday is a busy day here.

Finally, I texted my husband, he looked up and asked “Why are you messaging me this?”
Again, What was the purpose of this question Captain?

You are alone in a city you’ve never been to, and have $500 to spend. What city are you in? What places do you go to? What do you spend your money on?

Venice ! I will definitely spend money on that Gondola ride. And food, nothing Indian. And visit the local théâtre, a stand-up comedy, a play, nothing musical. And then go to the local vegetable market and pick up a basket of fruit.

Am not big fan of big hotels , so my accommodation will be AirBnB home with a tiny balcony that opens up to canal. Where I can sit and watch Gondola rides and the busy canal traffic and be amazed that people live here, all life and take boats to school, market, friend place.. It never gets boring.

So that’s it folks! Those were the questions, I will know my score at the end of this month? Isn’t it Paul? Captain? knock-knock, you there? I hope you lived through all of that blabbing 😀

This was fun!

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Tonight is gonna be a long night….and why am I tip-toeing since morning..

My office moved to a new building a few months back. Bright and shiny, it’s awesome.

It has a library. How cool is that!

Being in India, the last time I walked into a library was ……Meh, I can’t even recall. We have very few libraries here, But then, this is India. It has a thousand others way to tell stories.

Back to today, to my new bright and shiny office.

I was curious, On the first day, when I had visited the space defined as the library, it was bare-shelf, cartons lying around oozing books! Today books were on the shelf.

And I peeked. I looked. I turned pages. I scrolled through. I smelled 😍

And there it was, a tad bit old with rough edges and a dark cover, petite, surrounded by thick IT books, a name, a familiar name.
Jhumpa Lahiri.

What? Are you kidding me? My eyes were out of my socket.

You mean, all this time, Jhumpa Lahiri and I were on the same floor, separated by few steps. And, not just any book, her PULITZER PRIZE WINNER Interpreter of Maladies

I was floored, muttered- “Tonight baby after Adi goes to sleep, I will have the soft light and you!”. Jhumpa is waiting to speak her words. She wants to start a conversation with me. Tonight!

I had just finished reading Sapiens, by Yuval Noah Harari. Sapiens is about the evolution of human-kind, of how we evolved from being hunter-gatherer-forgerer who roamed-traveled- moved every season, lived off berry, fruit, honey, and occasionally small animals, worked 3 days a week, 5-6 hours a day, polytheist-polygamous to being God.

Is there anything more dangerous than dissatisfied and irresponsible gods who don’t know what they want?

I know a few things now.

1. Yuval Noah Harari hates humans 😉
2. I wanna be a hunter-gatherer. And they work fewer hours than me has got nothing to do with this decision.
3. I wanna read more of Yuval Noah Harari.

Guess what else was on the shelf?

Tada!

Home Deus; A History of Tomorrow. By Yuval Noah Harari!

By this time, my eyes were out and I was drooling. My head vibrating “Am booking tickets to Israel and then a hop to Italy”. I was tip-toeing , jumping in excitement. What is the chance that I will find two of my dream books, free of cost!

I love this library. Am so glad I joined here.

It has Books. Old, new, bounded, paperback, hardcover, faded , bright, red/black white and dark. The place is all white. The ink will probably fade but the conversations, the life in the book will remain even after centuries have passed. And that is what draws me to reading.

I was in a chocolate factory ❤

I could not get the book issued, but tomorrow is gonna be my day.

Tonight am gonna sleep with a smile and thoughts of Lahiri and Harari.

Whoa, that rhymes! How cool is that !

Happy Reading!

I miss you Ma.

and I never told you this and I needn’t tell you this ever because you already know this.

She is a Super-Woman or an analogy closer home – The Durga Mata. I guess every mother is, mine isn’t any different.

And it hugely annoys me that she can’t leave that stupid home of hers and come live with me for an infinite time.

That she is not here with me when I come back home with a refreshing glass of Nimbo Pani/cold drink on hot days.

Or listen to how my day had been.

Or waiting to have a meal with all of us.

That she isn’t here to mend my dress or fix my cold.

Just like she was during my school days.
I left home when I was 17 or 18esh.. for further studies. Meh! And then I wasn’t back living with her ever…. I completed my studies, met my husband, got married, visited home once or twice a year. And that’s how it has been since.

So literally, I have been missing her since I was 17.

I tell my husband, I was just bored with living out of the hostel, being a paying-guest, being with room-mates, the nomadic life of living away from home, that I agreed to marry him. I needed a home of my own. If I were living with my Ma, my story would probably have been different. His reply “kidnap kar leta tujhko 😉”

That is utterly romantic ❤ . So I know I was destine to marry him, to have a life that I have now. I married the right guy.

But that doesn’t stop me from imagining.

I imagine a different course of my existence. A parallel universe. One where I never left home, where am married closer home, where am with Ma for every festival, every small occasion, every birthday and anniversary. Where I don’t have to plan my vacation months in advance, book flight tickets. I imagine just booking a cab/ or driving to her home. I imagine picking up my bag and heading home, I imagine exchanging Meklahe Sadar with her, gossiping, cooking meals together.

None of which I can ever do in this lifetime.

All of which my sister is lucky to get with her.

Damn! That makes me jealous some days….

But why don’t I ?

I remember a conversation with Papa when he said, why can’t I do all that and more? Why can’t I just pick up my bag, book a flight and come home? Isn’t that the reason why I left home in the first place? So I could be independent and follow what I really desire.

Am blabbing. No one will probably get this. I don’t get this. Why can’t I do that? Why am I pissed on the days that remind me of her? (Am pretty sure this is as my sis is visiting her for a month long vacation and am sweating out here).

Everyone leaves home for a better life. I have a better life. Am not the first person to do so. I have no reason for not just booking up the flight and reaching Ma. I don’t know why can’t I manage that now?

Today is Mother’s day and am surrounded by the content this day has generated on every feed, chat, every social media. Do we need a special day for Mother?

No, A Mother is special every-day.

Yes, because I never told her how awesome she has been, how much she had worked all her prime and how much she needs to think about herself now.

Even so, I don’t want her to think of herself. I want her to be my side. Living in the same city that I am. Not this far.

Now, We They , my parents have a wonderful house at Assam. It is my parent’s blood and sweat. Their dream home and they moved into that place after my father’s retirement, which was much later after my wedding.

I live so far from her, that I no more dump my sob story on her, I feel a bit protective of her. Shielding her from my downs. I guess living on my own since 17 has made me as independent as my parents wanted.

Now that am a mother, I know I will always be there for my son. I don’t believe in long distance love 😉 he will have a hard time moving away from my nest.

But then he is a boy. A girl pines for her parent and a boy, well just don’t care. Sorry Boys 😉

I called Ma today and she was utterly busy with my sister and her twins. She was worried about my brother and she was going to cook dinner, fixing yard with Pa as a storm is approaching.

Day as usual for her.

Happy Mother’s Day Ma. I miss you.

Here is a Mother’s Day special from my 6-year-old boy. Aah.. he will never know the joy of leaving home. Literally 😉

Son: “Ma, What does comes first..the wedding or the kid?”

And my toughened Indian middle-class upbringing screams:
“Wedding son, definitely wedding! “

#HappyMothersDay

When you see a lady sitting on a table, with a book..

LEAVE HER ALONE.

Do not small talk. Do not “Hey, How are you?”.

And never-ever-ever join her on the table. Period.

She might be your best buddy, but you are definitely not hers, not at that moment.

Total stranger.

And if that lady happens to be me, with my crush, I might bite, meow, roar or just chuff! It goes south from here, so if your headaches, you will know whom to blame.

You may be the King of the North out to save the world from white walkers, Night King and Zombies, but I am the Queen of Seven Kingdoms, I have two full-grown Dragons, an army of Un-sullied, an army of savages Dortharaki’s……….

And a BLOODY HELL GOOD BOOK to read!

Oh My! Why so much ranting? Whatever happened to the sweet girl?

I told you, I hate reading…

I reach my office early, not that I want to. But for brevity sake, let’s just know that I get there a good half-an-hour before I should. And I find solace in the cafeteria. I look forward to reading what is happening next in Saleem Sinai life. Add to that, the reading done while commuting to the office, has already transported me to the pre-independence India, somewhere in Delhi, where Saleem Sinai’s mother has just made a public announcement of his existence.

Get this picture straight – Am deep down in the world of words.

You can only find me physically walking to the cafeteria, picking up a cup of coffee and settling down on a table with a book in hand, but in my mind, am not present in cafeteria. Am in Delhi.

Here is a visual, just so you get it straight.

She doesn’t want your company buddy. She isn’t smiling for you. Get your own book.                  Photo by Zun Zun on Pexels.com

 

But the universe is full of people who have a head that talks. (rolling eyes) does not read. The cafeteria is mostly empty at this time but has few from this breed. They have their head full of thoughts that ought to be spoken out loud in the presence of another head.

And they join me on my table, the table where I already have a company. Of my book. I could almost bark- Can’t you see, I have a company?

This one here and it’s a bloody good company.

But I didn’t bark. Or even Meow!

And so, I was interrupted by their life’s rumble about travel, office, kids, life ..blablabla. I was lending my ear but inside, I was cursing. You.

Sorry. Apology.  Forgive me, please.

It was supposed to be me-reading time. You are at the wrong table! Clearly.

When it happened the second time. I even gave a cue. Out-loud Or maybe I just murmured.

Me picked up my tea, headed to a table. *Spot* a “Hey! Person”, Ignore, ignore and grand Ignore ..

“Hey! Person”: Hey, Are you alone? .. I will bring my cup.

Me: Am not alone… (watching him go to coffee machine) (murmuring) I really don’t need a company. 

I hated him. With all my Heart, Kidney, Lung. Cumulative.

And then it all poured out of his mouth….

Forcing me to ask about his life. His commute. His work. But my mind was on the bookmark peeping out of my book placed neatly on the table. It will be only until the end of the day, a good ten hours before I could pick up my story 😦  

See, How can I not hate that “Hey! Person?”

Moral of the story. 

I have a book. I don’t need your company.

I have a book. I shouldn’t sit in the cafeteria, find a better place ( Heading to my desk, I realised we have a small pantry, crammed behind reception, on my floor, one down the cafeteria)

I have a book, sit in the pantry, hidden from all Hey! people.

Get the cue 😉 I don’t care!

 

 

 

 

 

Am having a goosebump moment..

The feeling, that very soon I am gonna finally fulfill my long awaited desire. That next time, when  I come across this title, I will be able to raise my hand and dig into my memory of today.

I finally have a copy of Midnight’s Children by Salman Rushdie!

MIDNIGHT’S CHILDREN.

Am gonna read it. It’s stupid. I have a crush on a few titles. This is one of them.

In fact, I had to bribe my dear friend/hoarder-of-books/voracious-reader/sorry-cant-part-with-my-book with another of my favorite-yet-unfinished crush of mine. I will give you my “An Era in Darkness..” in exchange for Midnight Children? She paused just for a sec before saying yes. She has her crushes too 😉 I was feeling devilish exploiting her, but heart pounding for Midnight Children!

Some titles are the legend. The authors are the greatest artist in the world. They have created a masterpiece that will live in the memory of millions of peoples, that will outlive them and their readers. That will inspire millions of minds. Will make a person completely stranger to the author smile, or cry or just connect in the deepest level of the heart without even knowing of the existence. That is the power the authors have. The magician of words, the creators of history.

So then, How can I not have a crush? 

I have to admit. I just don’t go out and buy all my favorites. They come to me. Each one is an episode. Like it is a conspiracy to slowly unravel to me instead of just heading to my bookshelf.

Here is the conspiracy.

Gone with the Wind – From a college friend, who just wanted to offload book. Was at awe at the courage of Scarlet-O-Hara then and even today.

The Kite Runner – I don’t possess a copy. I got it from my colleague. I loved Afganistan and I could see a boy running under a blue sky covered with colorful paper wings even thinking about it.

The God of Small Thing– Has its own post 🙂

The Tattooist of Auschwitz – Story of Love in the most difficult of time.

On a side note- Why couldn’t I finish “An Era in Darkness…”? because two chapters into the book, I couldn’t look at anything British..ily without resenting them. I just hated them. Plain Hate. And I wasn’t feeling good about the hate. And I know, I love Hugh Grant and Harry Potter! So, it was a tussle and the best thing to do at the time was to abandon the book and pick it up after I could stabilize the raging hormones within me.

So, what am I doing here instead of delving into the story of children born on the stroke of midnight of 15th Aug, 1947?

Am just sitting and admiring the book. Literally. Am just happy that I can start reading it. I have it. The words, the story will come alive soon and I will die knowing I have read a masterpiece, that one day my son, his child and generation of Sayed clan to come have a chance to read this masterpiece and at that moment will be connected to my soul.

Too much? I should just stop now..Am having goosebumps!

Now, tell me about your crush ❤

 

I had a narrow escape today.

…from getting into a really (emphasis this) really weird situation. A situation where I didn’t know how I got into. No clue. Never happened before. Not in my living adult memory.

So, here is what happened.

Just like any other usual morning, I took my gamsa/towel and headed for the bath. I sat down for free-the-morning-poo activity and (very slowly I) looked at my hands.

And then I realised.

I realised that I have nothing in my hand, My hands are EMPTY. Not carrying a thing. As in no book, no newspaper or no mobile. So, What am I gonna read? All I could do now is just poo.

Pooing, an activity in which the food that I consumed yesterday, after passing through a myriad of churning, grinding, soaking, broken down, beaten will come out of me telling me (1) Human being is an open system- Bad Design. (2) I eat a lot. (3) I poo a lot.

I have never been in such a situation. I always have something to read. A book, or mobile to browse or the newspaper to look. I have to read before bath, before poo. It is important because free-the-poo activity is free because of reading. No reading could translate to no-pooing and that, I was about to find out.

Slowly, My head was registering the pain of empty hands, I could feel a growing lump in my throat, my heart beating like that of an infant. And angry voices inside my head yelling I was heading to a brainless activity of pooing.

I looked around my bathroom, It looked neat with the wall half-covered by the mirror. I have two baskets full of toiletries. And I could spot two toy-cars and one superman in one of these. Okay, For a home of a 6-year-old boy, that finding isn’t a surprise.

Before my lub-dub heart could burst out of the cage, I had to take control. Improvise. Think. What do I need….?. I need words. I grabbed the first thing that had it…. and here is what I discovered in the next few minutes reading bottles- My Shampoo has tree-tea-oil, the scrub has walnut and almond(why are we not eating this stuff ?), the face-wash has neem and the Colgate is recommended by most of the dentist in the world!

My head was trying to locate my mobile, or thinking hard where I left the book that I was reading (Devlok with Devdutt Patnaik- Avoid it, probably that is why head cannot locate it ) or where did I leave newspaper after picking up from the door.

All in the living room.

I could hear chit-chatting of humans breakfasting. Shit, now I can’t even call hubby to rescue. He is at the table with the guests.

This was turning into a full-blown crisis situation.

Well, for the readers, it may sound like a crazy woman speaking. What big deal, just do the thing, shower and move on. It is usual.

But I have never done it before. Not in my grown-up memory. I refuse to follow the social decorum which is.. just poo and move on. Do the thing. Do your thing.

I need to poo like how my son needs to eat. The skill is not to let the boy know that he is eating, and he will do exactly that without a fuss. But the moment his brain realises that his next half an hour of life is gonna be invested in eating, an activity he sees no point in doing, it turns into a rock. Solid and stubborn. No eating. I have better things to do , Like playing with the superhero. But do the same WITHOUT letting him know(distract him with superhero tales) and he will just finish the plate fine. Only, I need to hand-feed him. (OMG! I am a bad mother)

My pooing is like that. It is not an activity for my head. So I distract the head with reading. The grey cells just sends a signal for exit and then let the gravity do its work.

I need words, My brain needs words.

I had finished all the words available in that small room. Think.

The profound moment!

I have my kindle, in my office bag (I always carry it in my bag) the bag is on the bean bag, the bean is just one foot away from the bath-door.

I grabbed the doorknob and tried to listen to sounds outside. The humans are busy eating (Thank God, I made a very good breakfast today- Rawa Idli, Sambhar and ground-nut chutni)

I tip-toed to the bean, unzipped the first slot of the bag, where I usually keep my Kindle. Dunked my hand in for – Nothing.

Panic!

Checked the next slot, Nothing! Lump in the throat full to the brim ready to strangle me. Shit said the voice inside my head.

Next slot and … finally! I found it, I found my Kindle in the slot, resting next to the laptop.

Bless the soul who said Kindle’s battery should never die when a reader seeks it.

The rest, I really don’t care. I did the thing, my way 🙂

Happy Reading folks. Keep your books close to your heart.

PS: Why is this post sprinkled with the word poo so much! I got to stop using it any further in this post.

PPS: Duh! This is the end of the post. Seems like the morning panic has damaged my brain and engraved the word poo in it. “How are you pooing doing today?” What time are you coming back from poffice office? “Poome Come early”…

PPPS. I chuckled loud writing PPPS Because I almost wrote the PPS as “..my brain and engraved poo in it”. That is pure eww, Don’t imagine it. Puff. Another narrow escape.

PPPPS: Count my blessings for today- 2(Kindle and PPPS) so far. Actually 3, I managed to poo in the end.

Moral of the story.

Always, Always, Always keep your stuff in the room attached to the bath. Not in the living room.

Order a wall-hanging bookshelf for the bath.

Let go of some towels, make space for a book in the towel stand.

Always leave the Kindle in the first zip.

The photo is of my son. I just picked it out. No reason.

Am still his favourite, despite everything.

Am a strict mother these days. Most days, am not. Meeting the supply with the demand. My son has his first first-grade school assessment coming up next week tomorrow. Maths. English, English dictation and Environment Science. But he is not showing any interest in preparing himself to be assessed. I really envy mother who has THE kid, natural in studies. (Are you reading this neighbour?)

On most of the days, I have no patience with a first-grade kid. I do not sit with him for his school work. That is the only job for my better half. He is a master. I do feel, Husband is disposable when he is around the house.  But clearly, I need him when there is an assessment next week… Get your butt here soon!  Puff! But he isn’t here this week.

So there I was, on the last weekend. Sitting along with my son, with practice sheets and prayers to God “Please give me the strength to make it alive till the end of this hour these 10 minutes and not strangle him.” Every 10 minutes, I remind myself. He is my only son. Be a saint, DO NOT kill. 

He clearly wants to escape.  Actually me too. Both of us. But Life is cruel. Doesn’t give us what we want. I hope he understood that last weekend.

Do not judge me. Before you imagine me as a  fat-rat matron holding a stick, wearing a printed knee-length frock and thick-framed black spectacles conducting a reign of terror, try spending 10 minutes with a boy who is more interested in super-hero than vowels of English.

10 minutes. Only. With a six-year-old who imagines wand in a pencil, the erasure as a transformer disguised and living among us in plain sight, who have to pee because I asked him the spelling of piled.  What?! pencil is to write notes? I thought it is a magic wand with the black core from kryptonite!

Don’t blame him though.  English is a weird language.

For instance,  Why the hell Silent letter? Silent K in Knew.  And wait, this gets better on the Island. There! A letter, an alphabet sitting right there, not making any sound. Just being there. Silently. The same S when added to “ex” becomes one hot cake bun.  Or , Don’t get me even started about Queue. That is just one letter Q. What are the others doing there? Did the person doze off with one hand on u, other on e?

So now I have to know why K is silent in Knew but not Clock.

Me: “Listen to the sound Adi, K, clock ends with K.”

Son: But Mummy ..K is silent. 

Oh Boy! Not in every word honey. That will be like a totally deaf alphabet. No sound.

Imagine how many zillions of space, wordpress would have saved, if it weren’t for these notorious silent letters. They exist but only in bytes. Taking up space but producing no sound.

That was English. Maths seems like a good boy. I mean, the subject is all logical, Right? Wrong. What the hell number-names doing here….legacy of English gf?. I mean who writes forty, repeat. forty and not 40 these days?

Meh! On the cheque lady? Hmm. Okay. But still. All the number names, just teach so he can write me a thousand dollar cheque every month. I only need that much. Teach him that. Did you notice the silent “ue” in there, with that condescending mind..won’t make a noise, these aren’t worth our talk.

So that was my Sunday.

At the end of the day, It was time for bed. The teacher was out of my system and mother was in, the guilty mother who punished her child and raised voice a bit longer than desired. He was almost asleep. Eyes closed and heavy breathing.

I said ” Adi, Maine aaj aap pe bahut gussa hui na ? Was I too angry at you today?”

Barely had these words left me and could reach my son sleeping next, I heard him reply. Yes. I signed. This is gonna be tough. All I wanted to tell him how much I love him and how important is reading, writing and learning and other parenting stuff.. yada yada yada blablabla.

Me: “But, You know that I love you no bounds. Right?”

No answer.

“Who is my favourite boy in the whole world?”

He raised his head enough to show me his smile: Me!

Him again barely 2 secs later.Or may be less than a sec: And you are my favourite person Mummy!

❤  

My heart just melted. And I relaxed. probably the first time on that hard day.

The best part of being Ma is the love I get from my little man, No matter, how much I keep him away from his playtime and his super-hero, in the end, am forgiven and loved again. Any adult would have labelled me lunatic for life, but for my son, Am still his favourite ❤

 

 

 

The voices inside me today. And Yeah… Happy First Roza!

My voice speaks in italics.

Today is the first day of Ramzan/Ramadan. Am fasting. Means no food, no water from sunrise to sunset. I can eat as much as I like from sunset to sunrise (And then do not complain why the hell I didn’t lose weight, I was supposed to be that girl who lost weight in a month. Yes Girl.. not Lady)

No shitty thoughts too. No gossiping. No bitching. (I guess that is the true spirit of Ramzan)

No angry voice in the head. Be calm and peaceful. No hungry thoughts.

Remember no shitty thoughts.

Yeah right! Tell that to a mother of a 5-year old boy, staying with her sister who has twin boys.

Three boys under my roof. I wonder how my roof is holding up.

How to mute this boy? Strangling with just a little bit pressure?

“Hey, jumping jacks. That is a sofa, not the trampoline. I will throw you out of the 7th-floor window, let’s see how you bounce up.”

Remember no shitty thoughts.

Okay. Big and Bold.

Am fasting. yeah, yeah, you have heard me write that before.

So my internal organs are just napping right now. They must feel like me, my head and heart on the days when I have little or no work at the office.

Do nothing but just be there, just in case. Do the bare minimum. Check emails, Coffee-try-not-to-yawn- lunch-do-not-close-eyes-coffee-who-asked-you-to-eat-so-much-on-a-sleepy-day. Hurray. Time to go home.

Moving ahead. Voices inside me today.

Kidney guffawed. Yay.. no water, nothing to filter. Can I go back to watching Stomach? She looks very slim trim today ❤

Puff Kidney.If only it could work like that. Stomach slim trim from not eating for few hours.

Brain: Look at the kidney. Both of them! No load, absolutely no work. Why do I have to work alone? Grrrr Grudging

Release the pee signal. *Evil laugh*

Kidney- Really??

And am off to release the pee. Sitting on the commode, I do wonder. Truthfully. Cross my heart and hope to die.

Why am I peeing today? Where is this fluid coming from.. whose pee is this? OMG. Who do I have inside me eating?

Remember no shitty thoughts.

So Folks – Eat, drink and enjoy. But remember no shitty thoughts, no bad intentions, No grudges and no Grr.

Happy first Roza! Enjoy the look of it 😉

Photo by Beqa Tefnadze on Pexels.com

Love it…then list it.

Rain. Barish. Definitely on top of my list.

Winter Sun. I love the warmth.

The warmth of my husband…He is hot!

The smile. The million dollar smile of my son, and his inane chatter.

The peace when the inane chatterer is finally asleep.

The sleeping chatterer and his peaceful face.Basically anything he does.

Food. At 1600 hours when am so hungry, I could eat a horse.

Food. At 1900 when am so hungry, I could eat an elephant a fish. I just had horse couple of hours back. I can’t be THAT hungry to eat an elephant now.

Sunrise. I guess. I actually haven’t seen one in a long time.

Bonfire. Only at home. During winters. Holding husband’s hand. Listening to inane chatter surrounded by my siblings and parent. Gosh, I really miss this.

Fish. When it is fried and added in curry.

Or Steamed.

Food seems to occur frequently in my list. Am I hungry now? Would everyone’s list have so much food?

The “Like” on my posts. Seriously. Thank you. Hit that like and remember to follow. Should I shamelessly ask more?

Poo and pee, especially after holding on for a long time. Whatever be the reason for holding.

Saying whatever and nevermind to annoy friend Tomas who hates any conversation that ends with whatever or nevermind.

Nevermind, he doesn’t read my blog. No point annoying my other pretty Readers. So Whatever, let’s continue with my list.

A night out with girl gang. Lollie-pollies, thank you for transforming me into a drunk dancer, saving my ass from the kitty-party-pout-selfies set up!

The left tilt of the weighing scale needle. Yay, am losing it!

Hot steamed white rice with ghee and aloo pitika (mashed potato).

I hope no one notices that the previous bullet is about food. Should I not write this post on an empty stomach. Do I see a pizza in the air?

Words. Fonts.

A resolved bug. Am surprised it is on my list. I do not want to be known as the IT girl.

Horror stories and the chit-chatting about the ghost. Are you sure there is no ghost in your apartment?

The call from a friend at 2230 hours to have cake. Home-made. Freshly baked. Nidhi , You rock 🎸

My phone showing Papa calling…

The bed. When it is all made neatly. Ready to engulf me.

Cuddling. Under a cover. Warm body.

Or Just me under a warm quilt/razai.

Sleeping late in the morning. Or just sleeping.

Chat at 3 am. Actually I hate that. Why can’t I sleep? Text at 3. Naaah.

Saturday and Sunday! Why don’t we have more of these days in a week? Like Mon, Sun, Tue, Sun, Wed, Sat, Thurs, Sat, Fri and then of course Sat-Sun. I stretched 7 days to 11 days. I think we can nip Monday. And Thursday too. And call it 9 days a week.

Book authored by John Green. When you stopped wishing things wouldn’t fall apart, you’d stop suffering when they did.

I swear, my husband would swear by that line. He is a certified non-sufferer. Contest open for anyone who can make him suffer. Prize money 1 million. I know I will make cool million.

Harry Potter movie. Add The Fantastic Beast to the list. Hindi Movie Queen … London thumakta.

Assam. North East. India. Mountain.

The Big Bang Theory. And Friends. I will be there for you..

A long weekend. It’s coming soon…

Kaju-katli (Dry cashew nut sweet) and Mango (The king of the fruit). No one can eat just one. Summer is only good because of Mango.

Fart. Am so proud I could say that out loud. Technically I wrote. Didn’t say. Whatever.

Nevermind.Are you reading this? I sure do hope you do and be annoyed.

A good book. One that you cannot put down. Especially the last few chapters.

A walk in the rain. Even if it is silly. Amu- Do you remember our walk around apartment last monsoon. PS: Readers- Amu and I are NOT a thing together, although it would seem like two persons walking under rain as being a thing together.

Sunset, I always wished to have a dress that steals color from the setting sun.

The color of beetroot.

Capsicum and Bell Pepper.

“Hey, Have you have lost weight…patli ho gaye hai” kind of greeting.

The coffee-time at the office.

The lunchtime at the office. Without A. He eats very slow. He is a sloth-like-eater. Actually, sloth will win.

Me and son jumping in front of the TV when the husband is insanely occupied into the TV.

Lotus. Always fascinated by this. Never seen one up close.

Color Green. It suits anyone, anything. Pleasant to eyes. One would say Blue. Whatever.

That should be all..for now. Nevermind my list. What are the things that you love the most? Make a list this valentine and be thankful.

❤💕💓💖💞💘💛💜💙💞💗👣

Image source…Google.

Karma is a bitch .

or probably a dog. I mean why bitch, why not a dog? My fellow feminist will agree.

I don’t care. Not for this post.So don’t turn away coz you smelt a feminist.

The point of this post is, Karma is indeed a bitch or dog or whatever you wanna call it if it can be called “it”.

Why?

Because that would explain, why my husband even being on the wrong side of all doing, gets his way around doing all things, the wrong way.

This case was a direct indication of Karma “Oh! Get it, lady, he is right, even though wrong.”

The Evidence

My husband never ever takes his towel to his bath.  He just conveniently whistles,open his door slightly, peeks out his head, extend his hand and I hush-phash-rush on that sound, hand him over his towel.  Please imagine it, because it is romantic. But do not imagine with my husband. Use your own. Back in days, when nothing else mattered than seeing your husband dripping wet, fresh, scented, I would wait for the whistle and rest is ahem ahem ahem.

Now the romance is replaced by war-room tactics, to get my son out of the door before his school bus honks! Breakfast – check. snack pack-check. Milk-check. Oh no ! I forgot his pencil box. Why the hell do you even take it out of the bag? Please imagine this too. With my son. I would surely welcome you to try and replace me someday. The morning 7 to 8 AM. And, In the middle of all this chaos, I have to answer his whistle. Every day, with strict notes “Take your towel with you….”.

I, on the other hand, never go to bathroom un-prepared. Towel – check. Blah blah blah – check. I do not whistle, do not disturb, do not need an attendee to attend to my bathroom calls.

Who should Karma support? The wife who is prepared, well planned or a husband who goes to take bath without his towel?

One day I decided to set things straight for good. There comes the usual whistle, and instead of usual rush to answer it, I ignored, said am busy and didn’t pass his towel for a good 10 minutes or so.

If he can’t do it himself, he better wait when I can. Lesson learned.

Or So I thought.

Happy in my accomplishment, I sent son off to school and set out to my morning duties.

And imagine what did I forget to bring with me? To my bath.

On the day,  when I thought I taught my husband a lesson in the morning duties.

 

This is my husband, while he waited patiently 15 minutes before passing me my towel. 

Karma -You are a bitch.