The argumentative Indians

He : Oh my God! The toast is burning.
She (stuffing two cauliflowers into the freezer) : So?
He:So? SO? 
She: Yea just leave it.Why are you telling me.
He: What why am I telling you? Am I not supposed to tell you? 
She :What is there in telling me about a burnt toast. Just leave it aside. I will eat it.
He: Why will you eat it? No need to be a martyr.
She:What martyr? I said if you are so bothered about a burnt toast just throw it or leave it. Why are you telling me?
He: Am I not supposed to tell you? Its a burning toast. The house will be on fire and I am not supposed to tell you?
She(seething inside) :The house was not on fire
He: Oh so you wanted me to wait for it?
She : Oh  GOD! The house will not be on fire from a freaking toast in a toaster.
He:That is not the point.
She:What is the POINT? Why are we even talking about 2 burnt slices of bread?
He:What do you want me to do? Not talk to you? Very good.
She:ARRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRGHH!! Not like that? Why take my permission. Toast is getting burnt. Just turn the darn toaster off.
He: You only say do this don't do that. If I do something its wrong, if I ask you its wrong.
She: Don't ask me about turning off a toaster for the love of God.
He:This is what you always do.
She:What?
He:Turn all melodramatic. Then I am sure you will cry.
She: Ok so you want me to cry is'nt it.
He: Does it matter what I want and what I don't.
She:Why are you talking on and on just because 2 slices of bread were getting burnt.
He: Because you are always so over worked and like a pressure cooker and you don't ask me for help. And all of a sudden you just explode.
She:When did I explode? You are asking me how to handle a burnt toast.
He:Is that so wrong?
She:It is not about right or wrong. Don't ask me. Just do it. Do whatever you want to do. I don't want to micro manage.
He: Why can't you ask me for help. What is soooo  urgent in stuffing 2 cauliflowers in the freezer?
She:You are not helping by asking what to do with the toast. I am keeping them in the freezer so that they don't get spoilt when we are away on vacation.
He: Food always gets spoilt and we throw it. Is that top priority?
She: Nothing is top priority.
He:Ya now you will talk like this.
She:Talk like what?
He:All this attitude as if you don't care and all.
She:Very fine.
He:See see there you go.
She: JUST LEAVE ME ALONE.Go get ready.
He:Ya now you are asking me to go.
She:I AM ASKING YOU TO GET READY. GO WAS JUST THE FIRST WORD. WERE YOU DEAF TO THE OTHERS THAT FOLLOWED?
He: Why are you yelling?
She: COS YOU ARE DRIVING ME CRAZY!  (As predicted by He she starts a trickle of tear)
He: Hey look here, I wanted a good nice vacation. I do not want to start it with a fight.
She: THEN WHY ARE WE TALKING ABOUT 2 BURNT SLICES OF BREAD FOR THE PAST 30 MINUTES
He:Ok ok calm down.Come on. Ask me to help and I will do it. You do not have to be so burdened all the time. 
She(feeling guilty) : Ya ok. I felt you were blaming me.
He: I was not blaming you. I was just telling you the bread was getting burnt.

And it all comes tumbling down

It’s the last month of the year and things are all over the place :’(

We started taking steps forward as Amma’s return to India drew closer. We got the kid enrolled into a nursery, started planning our routine around it and got ready to handle it all ourselves (mil was a massive help over the past 10 months even though many a times we might have taken it for granted.)

We went ahead with a major assumption (which is risky in all sorts of projects – be it in life or at work) – that the kid was one helluva gregarious girl who would take to day care like a fish to water. Parents – if you think you know your kid through and through (for you created that little rascal did ‘nt you? ) think again. Its something like code -  you may feel it’s the most awesome-st thing since Google and users click on one innocuous button and all comes tumbling down. Same with Chiyaa and the nursery set up. She cried the first day, the second day, the third day, the fourth day and next just fell ill with a raging fever.  We were left with eight days with Amma and 10 days from a vacation. We decided to let her recuperate at home. Yes – this was going to take her off the day care routine, it was going to mess her system up – but then how could we let a sick  child go to nursery. We will take things for better or for worse once they come.

I elicited feedback from all parents. The group was divided. There was one whose kids were the fishy ones – who took to  nursery like water. (Oh how deluded was I to believe that I belonged here) There were the others who had lost count of how much their kids had cried – they had cried for ever. There was a parent who put it like an almanac entry – her son had cried from Vijay Dashami till Pongal! In plain speak for 3 months. Sister in law revealed her daughter used to cry and puke. She was a proper drama queen. Even though she enjoyed it, since she was made to sleep there, she thought she was staying there forever and would throw up a fit to take her nap. I even consulted my uncle who is a doctor (I do not want to break my kid’s spirits after all). Surprise surprise – he said the process was akin to getting vaccines (huh I think rationalisation runs in the family – I had literally thought of the same parallel myself. Or does he secretly read my blog :S ) I have been given estimates which ranged from 1 week (very optimistic) to 3 months (realistic). Some go as far as 6 months to a year (very pessimistic).

I have started searching up nannies and hmm well they are costly! I have even dilly dallied with the option of quitting work (Which well-meaning mother has’nt. I think its one of those tests :|) K and I sit up at 3 in the morning and talk about day care. It's the only topic we have spoken of in the past 3 weeks! I have had quite some peppy adages thrown. I loved the way an acquaintance of mine put it – as per the western school of thought, women do not give up on their jobs so easily. They plough through inconveniences and stay strong on their decision. Their strength instils the same rigidity in all around them including their kids. So they do see light at the end of it. Indian mommies on the other are so weakened by the tears of their dears that they just flip everything else out of the window. Mil said ‘We can't bear a child crying and they don’t mind a child crying’ Wow! Brilliant isn’t it?! Sil said, I  needed me to be strong and one day I would be laughing about it! I am so so so waiting for that proverbial day!

Blue day

Yes the kid started day care today. I enrolled the services of daddy to help her settle down and also for my own moral support. Both of us took the day off to be on standby hoping that the back up power would never ever be summoned . 

I was all through putting up a false bravado. I kept believing that the kid would fare way better and I had to keep my mind off it. She would adjust fine. I was conditioning myself.  As K says – you feel what you want to feel. There was quite some truth in that.  I wanted to feel positive, I wanted to feel relaxed, I wanted to feel this separation pangs would inevitably hit her when she got to school. I had to wear the safety net myself first before I could provide any reassurance to anyone else.

We woke up way ahead of our regular time. Our chores done we waited for Chiyaa to rise and shine. Generally the water tap, the microwave bing , lights and sound of any fashion wake her up. Today she kept sleeping like a angel . It was heart breaking to lift her from the bed, change her and get started. It felt out right cruel. But what is to be done is to be done . 

We started in the right earnest . Reached the daycare. Chiyaa saw her dad packing the pram and had the most pleading look on her eyes . We slowly took her over to her designated room. Kids were seated around having their breakfast. She reluctantly settled into a chair. Her eyes had welled up though she was curious of her surroundings. I felt as if something inside me was dead because I did not feel sad at all. Sounds ruthless I know . But I felt the whole process was akin to taking vaccine shots - painful but necessary and for our good. I felt I had somehow pushed all emotions under some big dead weight. K on the contrary was a crumble . His eyes had the faraway look, there was a sniffle and he would not utter a word. I could understand he wanted his time to realign . Finally he broke the silence and uttered 3 words - I miss her. I wished to hug him and say kind words and console him. I knew it would all be useless. K had to get his own anti bodies for his shot. 

It was barely 15 minutes since we had left her and I already felt the urge to call and check how she was faring. I somehow managed to hold myself till it was 1.5 hours without her. I was not too happy with what I heard. She had been pretty upset and been crying through out. I tried to brush the news and get on with my normal activities. I had planned to get her back at 1430 which would be the  time as per my part time schedule. At 1300 Amma asked me to check how she was faring. I could not resist once the idea had made home in my little head. I called up and I could hear her screaming. It was unbearable. I jumped into my jeans and mommy daddy rescue squad was on its way. 

We reached and saw her sobbing on the lap of a child minder who was trying her best to make her ok by showing a toy. All the other kids were fast asleep and my dear darling was crying her eyes out. We brought her out and got her dressed in her coat. The lady who was with her for most the time said that she had played a bit . The moment she would hear the door open or see parents drop their kids she would remember and start crying. I felt very sad at the thought of it but she reassured me that as she would realise that mom and dad are going to come back she would fare way better. Not a pleasant idea to make your child used to. I know. I got her a big cookie and was consoled by the fact that she was not responding adversely to either of us. I had heard instances from friends where the child became too clingy or repulsive towards a parent. Poor dear kids we sometimes bheja fry them :(. 

We brought her home. She looked relieved (or that was my interpretation of her look) she got on playing with her familiar toys. I wished her strength. I wished her patience . I wished I would never have to leave her but I would. Hope tomorrow is much better than today my little birdie . 

Things move on - pretty quick

My head was about to burst. Yep - I had so so many things to write. But time!! That elusive element that slips from our hands. :( 

Well whats been up. I mean what has been happening- lots.

Diwali came. A work related set back for K was not the prelude we were hoping for at all. He was crestfallen. But the proverbial things must move on. The day of lights started off low key with the usual feelings of nostalgia and reminiscence. As the kachori and achaari paneer got ready, we got into celebration mode. We had more the reason to celebrate since Amma was also with us. It was a Diwali when all four of us were together. K put on some channels streaming Tamil programmes (Diwali is celebrated by hosting debate competitions in TamilNadu. Incredible India! I hear you :D ) Some colleagues of his came up with savories. We also gave eenth ka jawab with pathar by serving mil made burfi and murukkus. Eating is such an integral part of our ethos. We eat and all is well.We munched upon a variety of food and Diwali was celebrated in the truest of spirits! 

The next day was Halloween celebration at K's work. The kid was the devil,mom a leopard and dad crazy cat. She danced her way to glory.It was so thrilling to watch Chiyaa just get into the flow and dance to the wild jhinchak music. Again - food glorious food-  was just too good! There were games, songs, dancing and general fun. Chiyaa was so beat that she literally came to me drifted off to sleep right in the middle of all the conundrum . 

The following morning work seemed unreal. I was in a trance. I had no clue about the happenings around. Slowly the senses returned. The usual humdrum of work prevailed. All was not so dark and murky even though summer was officially over. The Christmas decorations started coming up around the city. A fresh festive fervor started getting enthused. All started to look bright and happening again. 

Which made us for a moment forget that Amma's return was a month away. The month became 20 days, and then a fortnight. We had the trial run of Chiyaa at the daycare centre. The first day was a charm - she ran off,  played around and scarcely came back to us when we called. Morning shows the day?Unfortunately not in this case :( Second day she got really upset after 15 minutes. Day 3 the same saga. I decided to forgo the next session since I wanted her to have a day at peace at home with her granny. For tomorrow  we face the real deal. Yep just like my initial jitters about joining work after maternity I have total monarch butterflies in my stomach thinking about tomorrow when I start her day care. No amount of preparation can help me in gearing up to face the challenge. I know kids adjust way better, things fall into place way sooner, but when I look at her expectant little face which comes running to me for reassurance and security - I get on the inevitable guilt trip. Who will she go to tomorrow?

I just hope all goes well and all my fears are baseless hopeless paranoia.

It's been so long since I gave a din charya post

Yea there used to be times when my posts in succession would be about what happened during a day. Now the days are so filled in running after a toddler, work, studying for work and home chores that I feel I miss to put the moments in blank and white. But today let's change the pattern. 

Talking of pattern K and I have made a routine . We step out every Sunday with the Kabooki and have a lunch outside and get some shopping or window shopping done as the case may be and get back home . It gives Amma the much needed respite from the kid. She enjoys some alone time when she can catch up on her friends and family without chiyaa trying to snatch the phone from her. She does not quite enjoy eating the food available in restaurants here and prefers having a low key meal. We both have some time to ourselves. The kid is now big enough to participate in the meals and it's very exciting to try different cuisines every week and see her reaction to them :)

Today we hit on Nandos - the place that converted my die hard egg - eterian husband into chicken -eterian :) now he eats eggs and it s mommy mwahaha. Chiyaa loved the garlic bread there and munched upon it. Encouraged by her response we ordered the sinfully delicious chocolate cheesecake which ended up being quite appreciated by her. Nandos you are a family fav!!!!!

We had a longish walk to another shopping venue. We started off by searching  some Halloween costume for Chiyaa . At K's work place they are organising a Halloween party for kids. The costumes off kids were adorable. At the end we settled for a satan costume with the cutestttttt tail for her ;). Since amma would be returning to India in December we also purchased some clothes for our niece. It's such fun to shop for kids ! 

Next it was the turn of the adults. We had not got anything for Diwali yet. K started off by getting some really funky t shirts. I was not to be left far behind . Though I was dead tired , I found great joy in trying out some of the clothes and finally matched up  K's  funk (I think ) by picking a leopard print dress ;) 

As the grey clouds started hovering we made the long trek home. Amma had made the most scrumptious bitter gourd fry and curd rice. We decided to put shudh desi romance for time pass which is what it was precisely. Movie done we were so exhausted we just wished to hit the bed . And that we were able to since the lil one drifted off soon . Hurrrrrrayyyy!!!

Summertime

As I started reading this book I googled J.M.Coetzee. He came up as one of the most celebrated author in Anglosphere. I was living under a rock to have never ever heard of this two times booker winner and Nobel laureate . 

This book is supposed to be a fictional autobiography . That seems like an oxymoron does nt it? Well that is just the beginning of the interesting part. The author has written his story as interviews by his biographer with important people in his life. So what he has written are perceptions of other people of him. If you think it at the next level it is what the author perceives other people perceive of him. Tricky right? I found it very interesting , very unique. 

The biographer meets up with a Julia with whom he had an affair, Margot - a cousin, Adraina -a woman who he had a crush on, Sophie an old flame and Martin, a colleague. Since it is a fictional autobiography you tend to wonder how much of the characters are fact. 

The book takes us through his years in South Africa . He divulges bits of his relationship with his father, portions of his political affiliations and facets of his personality . The book is a very enjoyable and gripping read and the most engaging way of writing an autobiography ever. 

As usual I cannot do without putting forth the most appealing lines :-

As it is the fate of some generations to be destroyed by war, so it see,s the fate of the present one to be ground down by politics. --This is mentioned as bits from the diary of the author which the biographer records. 

If Jesus has stooped to play politics he might have become a key man in Roman Judea, a  big operator. It was because he was indifferent to politics, and made his indifference clear, that he was liquidated. How to live one's life outside politics , and one's death too:that was the example he set for his followers. 

So David Truscott who did not understand x and y, is a flourishing marketer or marketeer, while he , who had no trouble understanding x and y and much else besides ,  is an unemployed intellectual.What does that suggest about the workings of the world?What it seems most obviously to suggest is that the path that leads through Latin and algebra is not the path to material success.But it may suggest more: that understanding things is a waste of time;that if you want to succeed in the world and have a happy family and a nice home and a BMW you should not try to understand things but just add up the numbers or press the buttons or do whatever else it is that marketers are so richly rewarded for doing.

Did John love his father, do you think? Boys love their mothers,not their fathers. Don't you know you Freud? Boys hate their fathers and want to supplant them in their mother's affections. No,of course John did not love his father,he did not love anybody, he was not built for love. But he did feel guilty about his father.He felt guilty and therefore he behaved dutifully. With certain lapses.

For instance, white South Africans in those days liked to think of themselves as the Jews of Africa, or at least the Israelis of Africa: cunning,unscrupulous, resilient,running close   to the ground, hated and envied by the tribes they ruled over. All false.All nonsense. It takes a  Jew to know a Jew,as it takes a woman to know a man. Those people were not tough, they were not even cunning,or cunning enough. And they were certainly not Jews. In fact they were babes in the wood.That is how I think of them now:a tribe of babies looked after by slaves.

Their mutual grandfather had his finger in all too many pies. He was - the English word occurs to her - a go-getter in a land with few go-getters,a man with plenty of -another English word - spunk,more spunk probably than all his children put together. But perhaps that is the fate of the children of strong fathers: to be left with less than a full share of spunk.

I remember, in the days when I was a student, existentialism was the fashion, we all had to be existentialists. But to be accepted as an existentialist you had first to prove you were a libertine ,an extremist. Obey no restraints! Be free! -that was  what we were told.But how can I be free,I asked myself, if I am obeying someone else's order  to be free?

Students in my experience, soon work out whether what you are teaching matters to you. If it does, then they are prepared to consider letting it matter to them too.But if they conclude, rightly or wrongly, that it does'nt then, curtains, you may as well go home.

In Coetzee's eyes, we human beings will never abandon politics, because politics is too convenient and too attractive as a theatre in which to give play to our baser emotions. Baser emotions meaning hatred and rancour and spite and jealousy and bloodlust and so forth. In other words, politics is a symptom of our fallen state and expresses that fallen state.

Was he at ease with his black students - with black people in general? Was he at ease with anyone? He was not at-ease person(can you say that in English? ) He never relaxed. I witnesses that with my own eyes.So:Was he at ease with black people? No. He was not at ease among people who were at ease. The ease of others made him ill at ease. 

In the back pages of his diary he makes lists. Oneof them is headed Ways of Doing Away with Oneself.In the left-hand column he lists Methods, in the right-hand column Drawbacks . Of the ways of doing away with oneself he has listed , the one he favours on mature consideration is   drowning, that is to say, driving to Fish Hoek at night, parking near the deserted end of the beach,undressing in the car, putting on swimming trunks(why?) crossing the sand and entering the water(it will have to be a moonlit night), breasting the waves, striking out into the dark,swimming to the limit of physical endurance, then letting fate take its course.

Make some noise

 I  was waiting on finishing a book to post its review. But then the blog was getting a bit monotonous. So though the work week has whooshed past I thought it was about time I picked up  the gauntlet . 

I shall write something and shall put my readers through some misery . Humility they say is a strange thing - the moment you think you have it you have lost it :) well I would love to think of myself as a humble person but then let me share a small joy . After 9 years and 4 firms I finally tasted a promotion. :) slurp! It tasted yum :) Let's pop some imaginary champagne :D Don't type cast me as vain now :( 

But that has meant a new not so cool boss :( lots of burning the midnight oil studying *groans* Once I am back from work I just want to plop on the bed and snooze. Barely the thought crosses my mind and I have Chiyaa poking my nose , pulling my hair and jumping on my tummy! ( wanna be parents this should not scar you from the untold joys of parenting :P ) 

Talking of Chiyaa she's picking up on actions of rhymes now. When she does pitter patter raindrops from 'i hear thunder ' the whole house goes awwww. ;) My mom keeps singing it all the while during the video calls. Chiyaa amuses her by doing the action for sometime but then my mom drags it in and the kid scampers off :D

Hmmm moms. They have such a calming effect don't they. I sometimes so miss her. When she says take care or get some rest sweetie I want to literally buzz away to her and let her give me her awesome neck massages :( I hope I am even close to what she is! 

If wishes were horses :( Anyhoo let's talk of the good things the weekend brought along. Like an impromptu movie The Adjustment Bureau(an old flop but it was free on the channel so who cares) . Like some delish food ( jeera rice , matar paneer and pakode  - the old classics) . Like being able to read some more pages of the book. Like being able to write this post while crunching some chips. 

Huh well I thought I would come up with a pretty elaborate one but then my words dried up . As I wait for another week to zip past here is my entry to the Write Over the Weekend initiative by blog adda :) which is about a post with sounds(This weekend your post must contain at least five sound words!For e.g. splash, crash, vroom, poof, etc.Are we all set? This week we go creative, phonetically! ) . 

There are supposed to be at least  five. How many did I manage? :)

This post is a part of Write Over the Weekend, an initiative for Indian Bloggers by BlogAdda