Borrowed time

Sunday night I was sleeping next to Chiyaa (yeah we still co-sleep, generally its K with Chiyaa and I with Pumpki). Around 2330 ish she woke me up and said she was not able to go back to sleep. I turned the night light on and gave her a book (yeah I did that :D) and drifted off to sleep myself. I thought she would sleep off, but 30 mins later she was still reading. I asked her to hit the bed, since she had school the next day. She asked me for something to eat (obviously one would be hungry if one wakes up in the middle of the night). I warmed a cup of milk and gave her. Minutes of having it, she needed the toilet! Obviously again. After that she and I snuggled and slept. 2 hours later, she said she wasn’t getting sleep again. I asked her to read again. After sometime, (I am not sure whether she slept in the interim or not, cos I was sleeping J ) she said she felt sick. Hmm… now that was troubling. We went to the toilet and poor child had a big puke. Cleaned up, we tried to sleep. She was definitely feeling better now. (Must have been the restaurant food we had on Saturday, plus my chicken biriyani on Sunday would have added fuel to fire). She slept for a bit, but then complained about not being able to get back to sleep! I asked her what she wanted to do and she said play J Good for her, she has toys handy everywhere. She started playing. It was close to 0400.

By now I had decided that she would not be going to school on Monday.

I told her “You are not going to school tomorrow”

She blinked and said “Will I be all alone?”

I said “Yes, of course”

“But who will take care of me?”

I said “What take care?

Chiyaa replied “I cant cook”

I said “I will leave some cooked food, you just have to eat it”

Chiyaa took a few moments to digest this. I asked “ You will be ok?” She nodded.

She was so cute! (And yes I was mean by messing with her head) I gave her the tightest hug and let her play)

I rang in school on Monday morning. When asked what was wrong with her, I was unprepared for a lie. I replied, she was sick. “Oh that means she has to kept at home for 48 hours to rule out any infection” Darn it!! Now I had to take 2 days leave. Thankfully my company had a policy that allows upto 5 days leave in a year for family emergencies.

And was I glad! I caught up on some books. I played with Chiyaa. We took a 90 minute long walk. We practiced some karate since she has a tournament in 4 weeks’ time. I got to prepare food and be around the house pottering around. I realised just how much time we spend at work! When I came back on Wednesday I also realised how little we add to day to day. When I was at home, I felt a lot would be happening. But then everything seemed the same. It was very kind of everyone to ask about Chiyaa.

It wasn’t for the best of causes but the effect of the two days was very good - some more time with my little one J

Growing up and moving on - again

Note: The again in the title, cos the first post is here :) 

The thought ran through me the other day when I saw a woman carrying her baby in a baby carrier wrap. The child was a few months old and she had a purse and a nappy bag slung over her shoulder. A pretty lady, she looked like a travel system on two legs J and she was doing her job of maneuvering through the market and shops pretty deftly. (Not that I was stalking her or anything, I just noticed :D ) She reminded me of my days. You know how I am not the one for nostalgia and all for moving forward and future looking when things get better and easier. But once in a while I am a normal human who has a wave of reminisce. ;)

My days with Chiyaa, I remember well. I was by myself. She was the only child in the house. Every moment was etched. But Pumpki was different. I had mummy around after she was born, we travelled to India when she was 4 months old and stayed for 3 months. Amma managed to come back once she turned 1 and then did mummy. Our movement from Ipswich to Leeds ended up in her not having a nursery place and hence extended care from grandparents. Now grandparents’ care exists even when parents are home. I have always had someone shadowing me. So with her my memories are blurry. She is also one who changes in a flick. No gradual transition, which makes moments with her more like “blink and you miss it”. I do not remember her learning to walk. She used to “cruise” that is, hold on to sofa, tables and chairs and get up and walk a few steps. One hilarious thing she used to do is, hold on to a stool and put one leg on it (kind of like a stretch ballerinas do). I have umpteen videos of her holding that stretch for longer and longer, then gradually leaving one hand, then the other. And one fine day, after her stretch she put her legs down, and walked a few paces, un-aided. That’s it, from then on, she increased her steps and in a couple of days she was walking! With Chiyaa it was way more gradual – her first steps were noticeable. (I have a recording of it) But Pumpki, no she just walked.

Same was with her weaning. It seemed arduous and quite daunting, but 2 days into our attempt and she was weaned. But she got on to a bottle. She used to have milk at night as well. Sometimes more as a comfort feed when she woke up. Since she is going to turn 4 in December, we tried hard to think of ways to get her off it. Chiyaa was the same and it was quite a struggle to break the habit. We diluted milk with water, then transitioned to only water to have her stop. We were not sure with Pumpki. But 2 weeks ago, she developed a cough. When she woke at night, we insisted she have water. We kept saying “water will stop the cough” to encourage a few sips. After exactly two days of complaining, day 3, she stopped asking for milk. Just like that, the habit is gone. Same goes for her getting off diapers too! She was toilet trained but we put diapers as a precaution for nights. One night, she was fidgety. When I asked if she needed the toilet, she said yes and walked with me. Since then – no night time diapers for her. Same during swimming. She doesn’t need one then either. Same goes for her settling down in nursery. She used to cry and one day she stopped. She used to enjoy her day, but was the quiet one. Someone who did not talk much and the nursery staff had to really struggle to get words from her. They used to ask us to share home videos where they could see her communicate so that there weren’t concerns about her speaking. In fact I read an article on selective mutism and wondered if Pumpki had it. As with everything with her, one day, she started talking a bit more. First to her friends, when an adult was not watching, then to her key person who works most closely with her, then with friends even in and adult’s presence. Now a days I get regular feedback on her being “chatty” and sharing stories and the like! Huh – she is a regular chatterbox now!

She is growing up to be an independent person. She for sure seems to be slipping right out of my hands L

Every holiday is different

I am back. From a holiday. When the alarm went off this morning, my first thought was “Is it Monday already!?”. And Monday it was. Luckily Chiyaa’s school starts tomorrow, which gives us a day to gently “transition” into full on working days.

When the holiday started, I had no plans. We had a few days away in a nearby sea side town. The week leading to the break had the coldest, murkiest weather. Felt like October rather than August. Sea-sides can be notoriously cold. And cold climates do not agree with the kids. I did not want weeks with kids suffering from cough and cold. We were supposed to travel on the Friday. Thursday it was raining cats and dogs all day long. I packed tights, sweaters, boots and light shoes (in case the weather was warm). I was fully prepared for the worst holiday weather. Friday morn as if by magic it was a hot hot hot 24 degrees. The coast was warmer in fact at a tempting 28 degrees!! The sun was shining and though google maps predicted lot of holiday traffic in the motorway, the roads were not a nightmare! I had a wonderful drive for the first half. As we started making progress to the the rural roads, we missed an important turning. But as if God was watching over us, there was a road blockage a few minutes on. Since the traffic was stalled, we were able to quickly turn around and take the right route. We felt blessed, as if the holiday was destined to go well.

It started well. We had a lovely meal once we reached, and watched a few shows that were being performed in the venue. When we got around to wrapping the kids for the night, I realized that in my enthusiasm to pack warm clothes, I had over looked inner wear for Chiyaa. I had not packed a single piece for her!! Disaster! Anyways we planned to go out to a nearby store the next morning (which was not so nearby since we were put up in quite a remote resort). It would take some meaningful time away, but then what needs to be done needs to be done. Pumpki was "the have" with a surplus supply of knickers and the moment she knew of her "have-not" sister, she did not leave a chance to rub it on :D . She pretended to choose which one she was going to wear, and even had a day, evening and night one segregated. The audacity! While she went on with this exercise, much to the chagrin of Chiyaa, I noticed that one of the knickers looked big enough to fit Chiyaa. (Yes! I buy bigger size for the kids, so that I don’t need to run to the stores every 3 months) I asked Chiyaa to try it and it fit! This was Pumpki’s chance to get harassed :D since her stuff was being worn by didi. Karma ;)

We ended up washing and using the 2 and Chiyaa survived! (Thank the shining sun and tower driers again.) Knicker-gate resolved without a longggg trip to the markets. Boo-yah. The good weather held up too. Saturday was warmer than Friday and we spent hours on the private beach. It was idyllic. Sunday was slated to be even higher in temp. We looked forward to a day in the pool, followed by a stroll around the amusement rides and then back to the beach. Till another disaster struck at 0930. The electricity went off. And took water with it. K went to inquire and was informed that it was a town wide issue! Well….this was an issue of massive proportions. Everyone but me needed their bathroom business done ;) and we Indians need water. So with 5 people with pending bathroom business, we were in critical need for water. We started opening taps full throttle like crazy. Every drop was precious. Yes the speed was slow, but then there is always water lurking in the pipes isnt it? We could manage to get 2 bottles filled. K as usual had a light bulb idea. The beach was nearby. (Not really, but for argument’s sake) He recommended we take all available bottles and go to the beach, fill water and come back! You can NEVER take India out of an INDIAN! Spoke like a true bred Hindustani. People across the resort were contemplating their next move. We were smug with a back up plan. Apart from the fetching-water-from-the-beach idea,  K recommended that we make a trip back home sooner if the water/electricity situation did not improve. It was a Sunday and the next day was a holiday, chances that anyone would be around the fix and issue in a remote touristy place was bleak. Well, that was a valid point, though it would be an unceremonious end to the holiday :( 

But then!! Bijli aa gai! And we shouted hurrrraaayyy!! We clapped, we cheered. I was totally reminded of the days of past when the current would go in crucial junctures of cricket matches. In the sweltering heat, tempers would flare. Papa would barely contain expletives. We would pace up and down, and keep a look out for any signs of electricity. The sound of television or the sight of light if it was after evening. If we saw some lucky goon with it, we would fish out if was the generator or the power supply. God forbid if it was power supply - Papa would make frantic calls to electricity department or drive off to the local one - depending on his state of mind. And when the power was restored, the rotating fan, the tube light, the flicker of the television – heaven was right there in the living room. That day in the resort, I felt the same. Wow! Vacations follow a trend but these nuances – they make it.

With electricity back, we were able to get on our “business”. Colon cleansed, the family marched to enjoy a glorious day in the sunshine.

Once back in Leeds, the days with the kids were pure bliss. We went around the city, visited some local farms, played, watched a load of television, coloured a lot of pictures, nursed sore throats and cold congested chests (there is no avoiding them :( ) and essentially had summer vacation.

Tuesday as Chiyaa goes back to school, I hope for the summers again soon J

August again!

Though I had a few thoughts brewing in my head, I kept putting them off. A bit of lethargy and a bit of procrastination. So before August draws to a close, let me put my post up.

August is guess what – yes holiday season! Summer holidays! Before they start I panic. I keep wondering how to keep Chiyaa gainfully engaged for 6 weeks. This is the last year it is only Chiyaa, from next Chumki joins her for her day care ends! (How time flies, that little one will be in school next year!!) So to keep Chiyaa engaged, I enrolled her in a couple of dance sessions and a week of sports.  That took care of 7 days :D There were many many more days.

K was on parental leave the first week of the hols. He did a stellar job of keeping the kids engaged. They would go on walks, collect rubbish from the neighbourhood, go and have lunches and be busy. And in the lean time, when Chiyaa would pick a book, K would engage in some online fighting J For me I did not have the rush of getting Chiyaa dressed and all in the morning, which meant I could have 15 additional minutes of sleep! So much so, even my showers are longer and more relaxing. Also once back, I did not have to scurry away in the car for the pickups. I could have a relaxing cup of coffee and pick Pumpki once it was time. Wow! I think I am getting used to this :D

The roads are scant since many people book holidays thus lessening the traffic. We have purchased many books so every room is littered with a pile. There are toys all over the place – some setups have a strict warning “DO NOT TOUCH” like this 

since the kids intend to resume play any moment. At the mid point of the hols, I can say, I am loving itJ

Bluntly speaking - They are just movies for crying out loud!

I do not understand why movies are being given the importance of a dissertation? When the movie Uri was released, people were agog about it. It felt as if India had won a cricket match against Pakistan! The hype was so much, I was tempted to persuade K to go for the movie in a theatre. ( I am a human after all!)  Thank God, better sense prevailed (my logic was – if I watched Thor Ragnarok on Apple Tv, I should wait for the online version of Uri too) When I finally had the viewing pleasure of the much touted movie boy was I in for a massive disappointment!!!!!!! In the movie kuch bhi ho raha hai! An intern is making a prototype which is the main surveillance device. I wonder if the highly qualified DRDO scientists were on Instagram posting pictures while this intern managed to develop Garud! An officer who was on a desk job is reinstated onto a high profile mission – JUST LIKE THAT! No vetting, no fitness checks nothing.  “Tumhe ek team tayyar karni hai Vihaan” or something to the likes was quoted by the superior officer. Again I think more eligible folks were updating CV on LinkedIn. He goes on to lead a mission which has ridiculous twists and hey! also an helicopter fight thrown in for good measure. The movie was nothing but a feature length chronicle of newspaper snippets and theories proliferating in media.

If one goes through a fine tooth comb and presume it is all factual, there would be serious doubts on the security of armed missions and also the secrecy of armed missions. The surgical strike was a tactical mission and hence a lot of information about it must and should be confidential. It is thus appropriate that a lot of content of the movie was derivative. These thoughts are solely mine. I cannot label that because majority of the people like it, India is a country of jingoists. Or people who did not like it are anti-nationals.  As a movie, if it entertained audiences – it has served its purpose. That is what cinema is. It is a story. It is not a treatise. The screenplay writers are not experts in any field, they are story writers. If the story is not well told, if it fails to entertain audiences, it will not gain traction. That does not mean the movies need analysis under the lenses of patriarchy, feminism and other buzz words.

Given this I am bewildered at the critics and their pseudo intellectualism while analyzing something as temporal as movies! I see the world divided into two when reviewing Kabir Singh – that it reeks of misogyny and many other terms which need me to pick a dictionary. It is a movie! Like it or leave it. It is not an intellectual product. I hated the hugely successful movie Saathiya. I cannot fathom what made the lead character portrayed by Rani Mukherjee marry while in the middle of her doctoral education. There was no resistance from family, there was no rhyme or reason. I would bash that as “insubordination of an offspring”. There was a spew of “obsessive lover” stories in the late nineties like Darr, Agnisakshi, Anjam  and maybe many more. The highly successful movies Hum aapke hain kaun and DDLJ were I feel an epitome of patriarchy (if I speak like the current crop of critics) where the girl wasn’t even asked! We never had critics regurgitating words from a dictionary while reviewing those movies! If given a chance anyone can over analyse anything.

Movies get many things wrong. Pick any biopic and one can see glaring fictionalization to adequately entertain. Dangal would not have been the same without the fictional mirch masala. Movies stereotype blatantly and brutally. Some communities have been the butt of jokes since forever. If its funny it will be irrespective of the accent or the makeup of the person delivering it. Laugh and move on. A movie is a story, not a message – social or political. A movie is a story, not a commentary. It is a personal experience how you take it. If you are inspired, excited, spellbound or had a laugh – good for you. If you are offended, disgusted, disappointed or bored – again your problem, deal with it. There is no need to see either scenarios with glasses of social commentary, evocative discourse or anything remotely intellectual. Intellectualism does not reside in the silver screen. If you want to have deep thoughts and profound discussions – chuck the cinema and pick a book.

Freaky Friday

Friday was the day! I started karate training! Whoop whoop!!!!

I have always been a martial arts enthusiast. In school we were trained for a few classes/months – I don’t remember. What I do remember is practising my moves on Papa at home and giving him a wrist injury! But since then I have always been very very keen on martial arts. (Or maybe before that, because I have loved Bruce Lee and Jackie Chan movies since forever.) I like Karate in particular – for its one of the art forms which relies both on hands and legs (for instance taekwondo relies more on legs) and does not depend on any weapons ( karate means “empty hand”). BTB there is a weapons training in karate, which is the normal moves assisted with weapons . (You can see I have done a fair bit of research – mostly internet driven. So if any of the facts are incorrect, don’t take me to court).

When Chiyaa was born, it was a no brainer that no matter what she would learn karate. Ipswich gave us the first chance. Since she was not yet 4, she was needed to train with an adult which had to be K (since I was tied up with Pumpki) As the days passed, her interest in karate seemed to wane. It was worrying. K commented that since she was in the same class as dad, she did not like the fact that he was praised some times. (Weird I know – but in those classes, they used to make kids compete with adults. A free for all and super duper weird.) K asked me to come along for a class as spectator to encourage her. I did. She was encouraged plenty and did real well. But I was also convinced by the instructor to give the class a go. It was as if I was waiting for the bait. I took the trial class, a class then on and before I knew, I had bought the uniform and all geared up for my Karate journey. (Amma was there, so Pumpki was attended to, I started my classes on a feaibility basis :D )

I am eager about stuff, but don’t take me for a fool. Slowly I realised glaring defects in their mode of teaching (yes I am a die hard critic. I am optimistic but critical – be careful of me) It did not take me long to pull Chiyaa out of the class, research more classes and put her in a awesome Karate coaching club. (I just loved it there). K continued his classes at the old place, but being the one seeking company, his attendance started dwindling. In a timely fashion he got injured during sparring once, and dropped 2-3 classes, which soon turned to stopped attending any classes :D

To ease his guilt, we moved to Leeds. J

I kept searching for karate classes in Leeds. I kept taking Chiyaa for trial classes in a zillion clubs! (Boy was I surprised to find the number of clubs around!) She was enthusiastic about every class. She loved every class. But it was not easy to deceive me ;) Finally after 4 months of scouting we entered the waiting list of a club. Waiting list was step 1. She had to like the trial class(which I was sure she would), I had to like the trial class( which I wasn’t so sure I would) and then we had to get going. Luckily everything fell into place and she was a student of karate again.

On cue K joined the classes too and dad and daughter started progressing. I stood in the sidelines, proud of their gradings, their tournaments, their practice together. I kept waiting for my turn. My idea was, once Pumpki started her training after she was 4, we would rejig our time and I would somehow start attending the classes. To give a bit more detail the classes happen on Tuesdays and Fridays. The under 9s train from 1800-1900, and the main class (over 9 to whatever age is interested) is from 1900-2100. So. Chiyaa would be dropped by me, picked up by me/K and then K would rush to attend his class (we have one car) It is a bit rushed and we are scurrying through Tuesday s and Fridays.

Till a few classes back the sensei said, Chiyaa could attend the main classes since she seems to be mature enough to do so. (Belt wise and demeanor wise J )So dad and daughter started training together and they loved it! This gave K an idea, that I could train one of the days. That way I could start working on my dream! It sounded tempting but I was skeptical – Pumpki, long term feasibility etc etc. K brushed these concerns as excuses! I have no idea why he was so enthusiastic about my training. Think he loves me and could sense I was literally jumping on my feet to start training. Anyways what goes inside a man’s head! After thinking a lot, debating and trying to come up with adverse scenarios I had to give in. There is one unhandled scenario still where Pumpki starts training and has to attend the kid’s class and someone has to bring her back. We have addressed this as of now by working out that the non-class-attending parent would bring her back while the class-attending parent and Chiyaa would take the bus and return home.

Long and short of it – Friday I attended my first proper Karate class (again!) And I oh so loved it!! When I came home, I was exhilarated. It felt awesome. Pumpki was fine at home with K and Amma. It felt nice to see the kids getting independent and I being able to do my things. Now K is looking forward to all of us participating as a team in the tournament next year!! (Boy that should give us some points for cuteness ;) )

Rain rain - do whatever you want to do

It’s a murky day today. Its been raining since I don’t even remember when. It is cold in June. It is the sort of weather that would make you climb under the duvet and not see the world. It is the kind of weather I hate. Or maybe I should say I used to hate.

I am reformed. I am not hating it. I am not loving it either. I am liking it would be close enough. 

I am liking the fact that I don’t have to hunt for a seat on the right hand side of the bus. Let me explain. The sun’s oblique rays scorch the left hand side of the bus i.e the east. It is more of a problem for me since

a. I read a book on my phone and the reflection and glaring rays really bother me.

b. I sit on the top deck of the bus because I like sitting there. The lower deck distracts me, people getting in and out, the activities on the street what not. I am very easily distracted.

So I like the fact that I don’t have to go searching for an appropriate seat.

Also the blanket brightness removes the feeling of the passage of the day. It is the same bright day from 0600 to 2130. Literally. But when rains and the associated clouds come into play, the texture of the day keeps changing. Sometimes it dull, sometimes its dark, sometimes it becomes a teensy bit bright and then rainy. It seems to have a bit more variety. I dont mind that.

It reminds me of home, of Bhubaneswar – of the monsoon. It is nearly monsoon time there. And it reminds me of how much I hated it growing up. And all the stuff we used to do to dry clothes. We Indians are passionate about drying clothes arent we? Something I feel we share with the Brits. Any day the sun shines I see clothes magically appear on the clothes lines. I wonder if people wait for the sun to wash. Or they put clean clothes to wash just because its sunny or they put dry clothes on the clothes line just for laughs. I cannot check, but I remember back in India the passion with which we needed to dry clothes. We used to string wires across rooms – bedroom, dining space – anything goes. And put all the wet clothes there with the fan on in full speed. We hated the “fan dried” clothes. And waited for the rains to stop. We do not face the problem of drying clothes because of the dryer. But there is an inherent dampness in the coats and the shoes. I would prefer it dry, but I don’t mind it.

The place where I live, there is a general misty feeling around. An earlier me would have hated it. This new me finds it poetic! I am alarmed. I asked K if everything is ok with me and he said “It actually is beautiful, why wouldn’t you find it beautiful ?” Point. He can shush me!

I am happy with the changes though. Age has come with some positive changes I would say. I am not grumbling as I stand in the bus stand and the bus is delayed cos of the rains. I am also thankful for the right choice of footwear and outerwear which enables me to be relatively dry (of course this is a skill developed over the years of residence in this country. I have figured out what to wear when :D ) . An earlier me would have worked from home under such inclement weather ;) But I am liking coming to work and sitting in the climate controlled 13^th floor, where my window seat gives me the privilege of looking outside and the murky sky while appreciating the artificial brightness inside (I am not being sarcastic ). 

Working at office is helping me to be more disciplined rather than foraging through the fridge and food cupboard.

The rains are supposed to get worse over the next 2 days. Bring it on. I feel prepared :D