“If you don’t like where you are in life, there comes a point when you must give up the part of you that’s keeping you back.” –Dr. Sonya Friedman Kid 2 embarked on a new adventure in his life today. It gives me immense pride to see my little cherub begin his college life. Till kids are in school we usually consider them as kiddos and then in a blink of an eye they grow up. Since last few years I saw the handsome lad mature into a responsible, thinking young man. Something that happened too quickly in the case of my first-born. The kid grew up too soon. That’s another story most of you know by now. It is hard to be a mother and harder to be a woman at the same time. Why am I reversing the order? Because that is how I want you to look at it for now. I had thought I will never bring up this subject again but things don’t always go the way you want them to go.
Once a female child is born, she immediately sides into the role assigned to her by the society – of a daughter, sister, wife, mother so on and so forth. The first robe of role-playing that the baby girl is wrapped in grows with her infant body, taking her through the long tedious journey into womanhood. Somewhere she shrinks into nothingness and all one can see is the role she is playing at a particular stage in her life. Am I being too bitter and judgmental? Maybe, but this is how I see an average woman’s life especially in my country. So what happens when this infant begins to acquire a mind of her own, when her body begins to stir and revolt under all those layers of responsibilities etc? What happens when she finds she has a voice? What happens when at some point of time in her life she throws away those cumbersome layers that draped her individuality and breaks free? She is condemned for life. She is called names. She is looked down upon and society begins to foam at mouth and picks up weapons of filth to fling at her. Thinking for oneself is not acceptable. How can a woman think for herself? Who is she anyway? Some women disagree and step out of their “boundaries” their “line of control” irrespective of the repercussions that would follow. Some “adjust” and ” compromise” for various reasons and stay confined within the four walls of their “home”. Consumed by the fire that burns in them.
In a society where maternal love is revered it is difficult to digest the fact that a mother can walk out of a bad marriage leaving her children behind. Men do it all the time but women are judged harshly. They are called “cold-blooded” “inadequate” “shameless”. How can a mother leave her children? It is sacrilegious. Taboo. “What kind of mother are you?” Someone asked when I said my boys stay with their father and I have been away from them since last two years. “You abandoned them?” Pat came another question and by this time I was beginning to feel guilty again for the umpteenth time since I crossed that threshold of the house I lived in with my kids, husband and in-laws.
“No, I did not abandon them. (The word is very upsetting ) I see them regularly, talk to them almost daily. They come and stay over at my place. We are closer than ever before.. I think so..” my voice began to fail me here. Leaving your marriage is the biggest challenge one faces in life. For twenty years I stayed in an unfulfilled marriage not knowing which way to go. I was economically dependent and had no confidence to break away and start all over again. The boys were small and needed me. I wanted to stay with them, watch them grow, give them all the love and support they needed from a parent, be their friend, be there when they needed me. I did that as best I could but then something snapped within one day. I had to take the hardest decision of my life. To stay in the marriage which had lost its meaning or walk away. Choice 2 meant leaving the boys behind. At that moment I did what I felt was right. I left. I broke the news to my sons (15&19 at that time) and hoped they would understand. I believed they did. convinced myself. They put up a brave front and stood side by side with me but the sound of their hearts crushing into trillions of pieces shot through me like a comet leaving me throbbing with unsaid hurt and a permanent feeling of guilt. Still somehow I could not bring them to stay with me nor could I go to live with them. We had to part to discover each other. The fact that I did not ever feel guilty enough to reverse my decision made things worse. In the eyes of others it was “cruel” in plain and simple words. I often talked with my boys about it and knew how difficult it was for them to show support for my action when inside they were hurting. No child can be happy in such circumstances but I often wonder if they were growing up as happy kids in the kind of environment they were living in. What changed by my leaving? The house was same, people were same, it was same shit they were facing anyway and now without my support. It was worse or was it? Only they can tell.
I have heard people whisper “All that fight for dignity and respectful living is fine and dandy but how could she do this? I could never leave my babies at any cost.” Well, it is what it is. I left at a time I believed they would understand my action. I am sure they did or they would not have had anything to do with me. The fact that we are still together no matter where we are speaks volumes. Some day I would want to know honestly what went through their minds but till then i am not assuming. There are times when I ache for togetherness. It is a lonely battle one has to fight if one chooses to break the norms. I began to start afresh, learned to be financially independent, though still legally married and still dependent on my mom and brother as I stay in their home, I am finally able to choose what I want to do with my life , with myself. Sometimes it feels like a bigger trap , more space but still a sand box. It is fine till the time I play inside it, stepping out isn’t an option but for now I am good with it. At least I am breathing without ventilator.
It is unfortunate and very tragic how the course of events in one’s life can affect children. They do bounce back and begin to live a normal life but somewhere the heart longs for the times spent together. It is the same with parents. I won’t say its just the mothers who go through this, fathers too suffer. I told myself over and over that kids need love and support and don’t want someone to fight their battles that they do on their own. They chart their own paths. One just needs to be there to encourage and give them that opportunity to grow and expand their horizons. It doesn’t matter if that’s done living together or elsewhere. I have been there for my boys no matter what and whenever they needed me but today somehow the deluge was too much to contain. Caught between rock and hard surface I sat here in my room getting updated on the progress of how things were shaping up as Kid 2 prepared to leave to other city to join the college. An important mile stone in his life. I wasn’t there in the last two important years of his school life and the fact that I could not give him a proper hug and wish him luck by physically being there broke me completely. Some emotions are private and I cried my heart out into the pillow. For the first time I longed for two strong arms around me. A shoulder to keep my head on and just pour it all out. We weren’t engineered for being lonely. It is tough at times especially when you are mushy and a sucker for love.
The sun is about to set in my city and soon the night will come bringing another rush of memories. Memories of all that I lost and found in my struggle to juggle various roles as a woman and somewhere I would stand and watch myself , the “me” that is now and wonder was it worth it ? I don’t know what the answer will be today but most of the day it is “YES”. Even with this burden of gratitude I am carrying of being “taken back in the fold of my maternal home”. Even with the knowledge that I owe my “independence – economical and otherwise” to someone without whom it would have been a different story all together. Even though it is a bumpy, uphill task to live day-to-day and struggle to keep my voice strong It is Worth every bit of it. I will miss our weekly meetings, fun and laughter, cooking especially for him, hanging out in favorite joints but we will be connected none the less. he didn’t meet as often as Kid 1 but his absence will be strongly felt.
This is the second time the brothers are being separated. Earlier it was when I had to send Kid 1 to he boarding school. Another hard decision I would have preferred not to take. I know they will miss each other more than anything. One day each one has to take their own path and go in different directions, the hearts say connected none the less. I know my boys will understand and not judge me harshly. I know they will treat the women in their lives and for that matter any woman anywhere with the respect they deserve. I know things will not stay the same. I know that wherever we go we will never be far away. The love and friendship we share will strengthen with time and we will always be able to float above the so-called ” social norms and code of conduct”. I wish my boy all the very best in life and success in the path he chosen. I am there for him always in any way he wants. I have a lot to say to the elder one and some day we will sit down , just the two of us, and talk to each other as two friends should but till then I just want to say I am a very proud and happy mother. Thank you for being in my live and enriching it. You guys are the best friends I have .
Stay strong , Stay Focused. Love you. please excuse the typos and random flow of thoughts. Republished on BellBajao Blog
The Theme for Thursday Photo challenge is Music this time .((Singing, Dancing, Playing, Instruments, iPods, Concerts,…)
My younger son Shubhang with his second love :). First being his football.
He has a GB&A Acoustic Guitar and loves to play. Though he in learning process he loves to pose for pix with this beauty and is aiming to buy a Gibson Flying V
I wish him all the very best and hope some day he will actually play good music and not the noise he calls Music LOL.
I love this pic and my bachcha ..muaaaaaaaah
How time flies 🙂
It is a lovely romantic Sunday afternoon. Rains always make me nostalgic and dreamy but today I am in laughter mode. 😀 Feeling better after days of weakness and worry. Those who missed the update This iron lady has iron deficiency 😀 … how Iron- ic 😀 !
Well , after a pampering stay at ma’s home I am back in Hell but this time to rule . When your spirit rebellious is unleashed it gives a thrill beyond comparison. Being away from the mess gave me a sure idea about my place in the universe, goals and the path I want to choose.
I make my rules and live by them irrespective of anything. That’s my motto for the time being and the biggest task is to get back my health..physical, emotional as well ans spiritual.
What happens when you leave the house to a junkie ( younger brat) and a workaholic ( hubby) ?
The main door opens with a lot of effort. The dust makes me wonder what hit my house when I was away. I carefully make my way through wrappers, papers, dust and clothes hanging everywhere. One look at the kitchen tells me – Avoid it .
The beds are hardly visible under heaps of clutter which includes crumpled bed sheets, half nude pillows, men’s clothing of all shapes and sizes. Under the bed are bottles, cans, wrappers ranging from toffee to wafers. Old news papers are shoved near the computer which is struggling to breath from behind the cables dangling all around it.
“Who strangled the computer ? ” I ask. No one responds. I sigh and closed the kids room. My own bedroom is wrecked beyond recognition. Losing my temper I question with whatever energy left after a long drive in the sun.
“What the Fuck .. Is this the way to live? How were you guys living in such a mess?”
The six-feet tall brat and his over worked dad averted their gaze and mumbled something about work, matches, school, time etc.
Something about “No woman around the house” made my blood boil. I picked the line and gave them back with such vengeance that who ever said that ( I am sure it was my hubby) will remember to think again before stereotyping gender roles.
I am not impressed. Although I am not a cleanliness freak but this was too much. I cleared six feet of space to lie down. My body revolting at the touch of the dirty bed but I needed to rest a bit.
After a while I decided to make the dinner. The elder brat had pushed off to buy the daily grocery as the placed lacked even the usual stuff like cookies etc.
The other men in the house had quickly shoved all the clutter in various ” not easily noticable” places. I ignored and moved on to the bathroom. Maybe a shower will help.
Jesus christ in heaven ..I said , remembering that I was sinning by taking God’s name.
I cursed the lazy lot and cleaned the bathroom, took a shower and entered the kitchen
It seemed freshly scrubbed. The men had decided to bury themselves in newspaper and football highlights. I felt like smashing the idiot box but the love of the game made me check my moves.
After a hard work of exploring the entire kitchen for various ingredients I needed a simple meal of Veg pulao was dished out.
All this time my monologue continued. The master and little devil had lowered the shutters on their ears.
No sooner my elder one returned I poured my heart out to him. The large tears hanging precariously in the corner of my eyes and the tired look helped and I got my first hug of the day.
“Don’t worry matee, all will be well chill maro. ” He said sweetly.
I nodded like a good girl and digged into the sweet, juicy ripe flesh of the mango. Some things are just too good to resist especially in such circumstances.
The night slowly brought the desired calm and I made a mental note of what all I had to do next morning. It included a separate session for all the three junkies.
The next morning revealed hidden treasures. A Box of Pink color Barbie Band-aids ( my FIL’s) 😀 was the biggest find of the day.
The dusky maid and her magic broom brought out banana peals, broken hammer, screws of various sizes, dirty smelling socks ( explaining the cause of the strange smell), some hard soiled edible things which resembled alien stuff, broken compass, colors etc .
The latch of my godrej almirah was brutally damaged and broken. The Jr. brat explained that he needed an ID proof so he had to break open. What all is missing remains a mystery till now.
The worse thing that happened was destruction of the Mayna Nest.
Third time in a row , the beautiful Mayna couple ( permanant residents of our store window) had build a lovely eco friendly nest. Something like a high rise building with green shinn ing leaves at the four corners. It was a beauty and we were early waiting to film and shoot the whole thing but unfortunaely My inlaws removed it at the first sight.
They believe in an old wives tale that Mayna who does a lot of chitter chatter brings bad omen and fights between family members. So the home was wrecked and thrown out. 😦
Today things seem to be under control. The threat of heading back to the comforts of my ma’s place worked beautifully and they have made less mess in the last 48 hours.
The weather has helped immensely to cope up with this devastation. Everything inside the four walls of this house seems to be breathing easy. The trees outside are swaying gently. There is a slight drizzle and the birds are chirping merrily.
The junkie is happy that the issues were resolved without bloodshed all thanks to the football matches and my love for them.
The workaholic is busy working more hours as the hell has its rightful queen.
I am feeling good
All izz well in my world :).
The eerie calm in the house is always indication of some dramatic event ahead. Yesterday was one such day. The city was wrapped in a cover of heat, dust and sand. The humidity was killing. I decided to make a tall glass of lemonade with crushed mint and retire to the coolness of my room with a book.
The maid was happily humming the latest song while struggling with the mud soaked socks of my Beckham. The boys were glued to the Play station and seemed oblivious to the world around them.
I scanned the home one last time cuddled in the bed with the book. After ten minutes The peace was shattered by the cries of “khoon , khoon” (“Blood ,Blood “). I leaped out of my bed and ran out.
The WWE match had come alive in our bedroom and in a state of hyper excitement the two boys had tried the pedigree, STFU, tombstone , RKO, spear etc.. Blood was gushing out from the upper lip and gum of the younger one and the older one was trying his level best to control his emotions.
I gave him a ” you just wait for me” look and went to see what was happening in the kitchen. The bleeding wrestler had managed to clear the mess when I noticed a vampire bite on his chest. “What the F is that ?” I asked perplexed by the red teeth markings .With tear filled eyes he said ,” He bit me “. “What ?” I could not believe my ears. I was loosing it by now .
I screamed at the elder one for being such an animal and drawing blood every time he got a chance. He raged and fumed about my partial behavior and accused me of melting every time there was a fight. I ordered him to zip his lips and tucked the junior in the other room.
My temples were hurting by now. The lemonade forgotten.
The bai was scandalized by the whole scene and kept repeating that all was well. She could not believe that within ten minutes the serene calm house was resembling a battlefield. I told her I had had enough of these brats and how they will be grounded for the next few days, their play station confiscated. She sympathized with me from the bottom of her heart. Another kind of calm was descending in my home. I went to check on the other one. He was standing bare chested in the bathroom inspecting his torso. I told him to turn around and the sight was horrifying. Deep red welt like marks were visible all over. Starting neck downwards. My heart stopped beating. “Are you hurt badly? Does it hurt “? I was at loss of words. I called the retired hurt boy and showed him the marks. Ones again a verbal battle began. It appeared that the junior had tried to chock the elder one and he had to bite in order to get free and breath. He had boxed him in the same process when the strong arms of the younger one had rendered him helpless.
That’s it. I told that the play station along with the WWE CD will be packed for good and some sanctions will be put on both for creating such a havoc in the house. Not one day goes without some such incident. Vacations Suck big time.
One room turned into war zone, a continues never ending supply of ration for the warriors. You call this Life ???
After my soliloquy which hardly anyone was listening to I realized my temples were throbbing again. I told them to stay away from each other or else…
Half an hour passed in silence and then a giggle and a laugh. I wanted to kill. After spoiling my whole afternoon the boys were having a gala time. They requested that the matter should not be reported to dad and all is well in their world. I just looked at them.
What are these guys made of I wondered.
Everyday I discover new stuff, every day I learn new cuss words. Everyday is a new challenge.
Some things I could never understand. They do all the text messaging shitting in the loo. When something is private and personal ( not for dad’s hearing) a SMS will appear in my mobile from the other room. I thought only girls spent hours chatting on the phone ..
” Yes they do” came the reply , ” we listen”.
The mobile blinks and vibrates every second with Facebook updates, messages, calls. They lead a busy life.
Most of the days I try to fill their bottomless pits called tummies and still fail miserably. I wonder where all the food goes.
All through the day and night they roam around the house searching for something edible. Anything. From raw tamarind to cheese toasts and pasta.
They never ever tire of eating. Unless you eat your fill the moment something arrives you will never see the sight of it again. Empty wrappers of Biscuits, chocolates, dilapidated bags of wafers and other goodies are recovered daily from under the beds, mattresses, behind the sofas , inside the cupboards and book shelves. It is a tough life. 😦
The innocent faces will stare at you as if you are the culprit.
Vacations always add to the miseries. The days are too long and I feel more sleep deprived than ever.
There are good happy times too but when the six feet tall beasts are unleashed from the depths of their inner it is every mother’s nightmare. Daily I sharpen my claws to be ready for yet another surprise lurking to flung at me.
Lying down emotionally spent and tired at night I pray and hope for a better tomorrow which never comes.
This is a Blogadda Spicy Saturday Pick
“Mother wait a little longer,
Till my little wings are stronger,
Then I will fly away.”
When my first-born Adi started school he was barely three. I remember how happy he was on the first day of the pre school on that fine winter morning. All dressed in a new set of clothes, carrying a small colorful school bag and a million dollar smile in his eyes which travelled to his lips the moment we reached the school gate.
He just ran inside and suddenly realising that he had forgotten me, turned and waved. I gave him a flying kiss and just as I turned to go back I felt the first pang of loneliness. My child had taken first step away from me in a new direction which led to his own world where I will be just a spectator.
I held back the tears and smiled. I had given him the wings now it was his turn to soar.
I don’t think I really felt that I had taken that first step towards ” empty nest syndrome”. It was all about Adi discovering, exploring and learning. That is what we were taught as little kids. To blossom.
After four years Shubhang came into my life and again the same process of preparing him to expand his horizons began and soon he too started his play school. Both the boys were very fond of their school and never missed a single day. Life was opening it’s gates for them one by one and each one of them was taking a new step every day just a little further from me.
It was at that time I remembered my parents and how they had given their unconditional support and love for me to spread my wings and fly.
Now at the age of 78 she is alone. My father passed away four years back and since then I have seen struggle between the independence she is used to and the love and support she needs due to frail health and old age. My parents always believed in living independently and while my dad was alive they stayed on their own inspite of raised eyebrows and wagging tongues. Everyone thought it was my brother’s moral duty to look after the aging parents and he never shrugged from it but dad believed in “not being dependent” till they can manage.
They left for Pune and stayed in Athashree , a unique housing complex only for elderly. The decision made the relatives gossip. Although it was their own decision and I think a right one then also everyone made us feel guilty. The place was well-connected, and had all the facilities but because Old Age Homes are such a taboo in our society that both of us kids had to listen to hundreds of accusations.I don’t know why sending old parents to old age homes has such a negative connotation in India. Sometimes we are left with no option.
Putting children on guilt trips is not right in my opinion. Some children do leave opportunities, like my hubby did , to stay with their parents but ultimately how right it is , is the question.
With my father gone , my mom wanted to live independently and pursue whatever she had dreamed of. Travel, attend concerts, plays, meet friends, and much more but the idea of her staying alone in a big city scared us.
I felt for the first time the disadvantage of being born as a daughter. Why is it that once a girl is married her role in her parent’s life finishes and it is the always the male child who is suppossed to look after and care for the old parents. I realised that for every visit, for calling them to stay over when dada was busy or touring, for going out with mom , I had to seek permission and face lot of questioning and hear continuous saga about why I should bother about them when my brother and his wife are there, once married I was supposessed to only look after my parents in-law. Daughters are ” paraya Dhan” once married off they belong mind ,body and soul to the their husbands and in-laws that’s the norm and I question it very strongly. Why should a girl leave per parents who gave her birth, taught her the basics of life and made her what she is today ?Twice when one of my parents was ill and brother needed help, I was forcefully, accusingly denied to go and care for them by my in-laws. Things changed a bit when my ma in law herslef fell ill and I came to her rescue. Still she very grudgingly “allows” me to go see ma when I am needed by her. As if she is doing me a favor by allowing me to visit my old mom. How disgusting that is.
That really irritated me. Why do we expect the girl to look after the guy’s parents only and leave her own to their own destiny? How many times is it that a guys takes interest in caring for his in laws?
When I got married into a traditional orthodox family ( mine was a supposed love marriage , I knew the guy but not the family), on every step I discovered how further I was getting away from my own parents. It was a transition I had to make from a daughter to a daughter in law and trust me it is not easy at all.
Many parents expect the kids to sacrifice their happiness for the sake of the their ego and that leave me speechless, because I always think that Parenthood teaches selflessness, to love and respect your kids unconditionally.
There are always two extremes , of children throwing parents out in their fight for property or any other issue and the parents accusing children of leaving them behind ” to pursue their dreams. Both the situations are sad. Why can’t their be a solution. There the role of housing societies for elderly comes.
Coming from a liberated, modern background of free thinkers, it hit me hard to accept and mould myself most of the times unwillingly to age-old customs, rituals and doctrines. The battle continues. Having no financial independence has limited my say.
Job opportunities take children away leaving old parents to themselves and in such cases if there is not much choice why not opt for such a society where elderly people stay and enjoy life with all facilities, safety and medical care.
Here in our society people are too rigid to go to counsellors, to live in homes for the elderly, to pursue interests and plan their own lives after retirement and once kids start living their lives, whether living with them or far away. Parents thing they own their kids and treat them like puppets. one statement that I often hear in my in law’s home is ” we have given them birth, educated them , spent so much on them, now its time to pay back. “.. I often think how cruel this mentality is and what effect it will have on children and their future.
I feel parents should give their children their identity and wings to fly and children. In our society it’s a sad situation for both girls and boys. The goal of the parents is to get the daughter married and here I talk of the majority of parents and for boys they have a set pattern of educating them to get them on some job depending on their ability and then demand the payback of all their years of raising them up. They are slaves who have to follow every thing parents tell them from job to marriage to their choice of girl and then how to lead their lives without becoming Joru ka Gulam ( thanks IHM for the phrase). They never let go , clinging on to them, judging each decision kids take especially the mothers for they have little else to involve them in later years.
Erma Brombeck says.
It is those mothers who cannot accept the loss of the supervisor’s role who turn themselves into controlling mothers/mothers in law in later years. Adults should not only teach their children to be independent and rejoice in it, they themselves should learn to be independent and rejoice in a job well done too.
I always wonder who eventually becomes their Budhaape ka sahara , the DIL or the son? While he continues to enjoy life as before , she leaves her job and sits at home to care for them and listen to their taunts. The fact that feel unwanted is nothing to do with old age , I know friends who keep complaining about their school going children esp sons and how they make the parents feel unwanted so the question of old age loneliness is nothing to do with feeling of being unwanted.
There is always a comparison to joint families of their times but now a days where there are 1-2 kids and nuclear families the old-fashioned thing can’t work out and that becomes beyond their closed understanding.
There are parents who have progressed and moved ahead with changing times but what’s the percentage ?
We are all conditioned to the thought of ” not to let go” and that creates the problem and old people have difficulty in filling the void.
I feel blessed that my parents gave me an upbringing where I can detach myself from my kids and let them be. When Adi turned 18 this year I posted a post for him. I gave him roots and wings as a present.
Life is a bitter-sweet symphony and one loves to be wanted but not really at the cost of the happiness of our children. I hope the mind-set would change and kids will be treated as people and not just a part of the parents.
As Gibran says ,
“Your children are not your children.
They are the sons and daughters of Life’s longing for itself.
They come through you but not from you,
And though they are with you yet they belong not to you.
You may give them your love but not your thoughts,
For they have their own thoughts.
You may house their bodies but not their souls,
For their souls dwell in the house of tomorrow,
which you cannot visit, not even in your dreams.
You may strive to be like them,
but seek not to make them like you.
For life goes not backward nor tarries with yesterday.”
I love my mom, go and meet her at times, care about her and so does my brother in his own way but from parents to children we are all independent beings above all relationships. The teachings I got from my parents I have instilled in my children inspite of all the pressures from my orthodox in-laws and I hope the kids too will never hold their children captive, physically or emotionally.
Blogging , writing , music, travel I have a lot of things I would love to pursue when my boys go away . What is your plan ?
I was 6days past my due date and anxious. It was late September and the weather was perfect with just a little nip in the air. My first born now four was so excited that every now and then he would keep his ears glued to my swollen tummy and say sweet nothings to the baby just to be kicked back and then he would laugh and say you got trouble inside mommy.
Now I look back and think how true his words were 🙂 but in a sweet way. I was hoping for a girl and the radiologist had slightly hinted that it may be a girl child. Joys unlimited despite a high pitched verbal protest from my MIL and FIL.
On that particular morn I was watching the birds twitter in the park with a cup of green tea when I got the kick signal that the time had come. I woke my hubby and we were off to the hospital. Urgent calls were made and the stage was set in a common ward. What I did not expect was the events that will be etched in my memory for long.
After a discussion the docs decided to put me on drip and induce labor pain. Each pain was five times more than the normal one and with welled eyes I tried to accept what was in store. For the next four hours it seemed like I was pain and nothing else existed. I realized that the sister, who was attending to me like Florence Nightingale, had little drops of blood coming out from where my nails dug in her arm as I held it for comfort. The lady just smiled and ran her fingers through my hair when I looked at her with tear filled eyes.
The drama continued till the head was almost out and 123 and I was taken to the Delivery room. I could see blurred figures and muffled sounds passed through my dizzy brain. Next I woke up to find myself looking at ghostly figures in white hovering around me and heard the cry like noise of a baby.
“Congratulations you have a baby boy”. The words sent me into some kind of delirium and I started mumbling something.
When I woke up again the scene had changed and I was in the same place where it had all began. The baby lay sleeping in the crib. A chubby fat little dumpling with same dimples as his elder brother. The doctor disclosed what had taken place behind the closed doors of the delivery room.
Apparently I had accused them of changing the baby for I was sure I had a baby girl. I had told them to give the boy to some needy boy crazy couple and bring my daughter back and with great trouble they had injected something to calm me and help me sleep. I had slept for good two hours.
I looked at the bundle of joy with an overpowering feeling of guilt and hugged him tight. He was an absolute joy with a look of mischief in his eyes. Later in my own room the pediatrician jokingly mentioned how the little imp was eying a pretty nurse” the brat has an eye for beauty no doubt” he said and we all laughed as the little one smiled. His chubby face lighting up at once as if he knew he was being complimented.
He was not much of a trouble maker till he reached the age of three. All he needed was food and sleep. It was a task to keep him rolling from one place to another as he looked like a small size exercise ball.
The entire clan was dotting on this imp as I wondered what was in store for me. The Kid 1 viewed the new arrival with amazement and interest. Something had changed in the boy and I decided to pay more attention to him least he felt neglected but the reason lay somewhere else(that I will discover later).
A special bonding session was taking shape and the two cronies rocked my otherwise peaceful world in just a few years to come. The house became a battleground, a circus and a continues carnival.
Unexpected things popped up daily and living and parenting became the hardest challenge for me. To go in detail of those endless hours in the life of trouble shooters will need a lot of time and space so to cut it short I was challenged to out smart two wicked over smart highly equipped brats.
I learned new strategies every day to overpower them and in the process developed some basic survival instincts and a nose like a dog to smell out trouble.
One thing was clear the lad was a complete foodie, a hardcore sportsman and a rock star as far as girls were concerned. 😉
At the age of 13 he stands 5feet 9inches tall. A handsome dude with a huge female following, a great singer, a soccer player and an exceptionally good cook(though at a learning stage). The boy has some knack for mimickery and can turn the house into a laugh riot in just a few moments.
All the predictions had come true but one thing that everyone missed out was a heart of gold that lay inside him. I saw the way he managed things when a close friend’s father passed away. He was all over the place helping in every possible way and anyone who watched the little boy could not but bless him.
Again during the time I fell sick and the elder one was away in the residential school my little cherub gave me strength to cope up every time I felt as if it was the end of the world for me.
We often treat our kids as our property and forget that they are individuals with their own life and mind. I gave both my kids freedom to live by their own terms and guided them just as the elders guild the small child to help take the first steps.
Today both the boys are my best buddies and I live my childhood through them. We are thick and share all our little secrets, joke around, laugh, giggle, cry, argue,sing and go crazy at times (much to the annoyance of my hubby) 😀 just like best pals. All their friends treat me like an equal and I love to free my inner child just to connect with the best phase of our entire life.
Now in senior school Shubhang is entering a new phase of his life and I wish him all the success in his endeavors. All I always want from my children is to be good human beings, rest everything will follow.
We make our own destiny and chart our own path , we weave the dreams and color our future with them but to live in the present and enjoy it is what really matters.
Cheers to my Rock star !!!! May he realize his dreams and do justice to the life given to him.
It was a perfect mother’s day for me. Great weather, Outing with my Handsome sons and to top it all celebrations for the war won.. the IndusLadies contest victory.
I had decided to spend a lazy Sunday and that included no house work. The kids had done tremendous networking and I wanted to celebrate with my brave soldiers. The idea was to make best use of the Rainy day and just have fun.
We decided to visit the newly opened posh DLF Emporio Mall. A project that has brought our locality into page 3. This is India’s most Luxurious Shopping Destination. It has five floors and comprises an area of 320,000-square-foot (30,000 m2). The mall features 130 brands including 70 international brands.
It houses the most glamorous International and Indian design houses, a swanky Cafe and food court, and some of the world’s most desirable jewelers and watchmakers. Apart from all this there is a spa, a salon, and a member’s club.
We leisurely strolled in the gleaming corridors feasting our eyes on the stuff dreams are made of. checking out various trends of high fashion society and looking out for all the Mother’s Day events happening there.
It sure is a place for India’s rich and famous with it’s Italian marbled floors, gold-plated ceilings, exotic fountains,adorned with palms and scented with lavender this place is simply amazing.
I was amazed at the price tags and wondered about the wealthy Indians who frequented this place and how it showcases the wealth gap in India.
Next to it is the DLF Promenade which has DT cinemas with multiple screens and a seating capacity of over 2,250 seats, retail shops, fast food restaurants.
The twin malls spread over 8.5 lakh square feet. The parking space itself is a treat for car lovers and kids had fun time admiring the beauties there.
After window shopping in the air conditioned mall we headed to eat our lunch and TGIF seemed a great idea but the lack of service made us skip the meal and just cooling ourselves with iced tea and ice creams we headed for our all time favorite McDonnell, got our food packed and went out to enjoy the rain and the cool breeze.
With two happily beaming kids next to me I allowed them to indulge themselves with the accessories they wanted and they thought they had hit the jackpot.
It was a day well spent doing what the boys wanted to do and sometimes I do relax my rules and pamper them.
Now the evening meal is set with Bacardi Breezers and Indian cuisine and I am completely relaxed. Last few days had been taxing and it was sure a nice change from the daily routine.
With the summer vacations on, the days will be filled with a new adventure every day. The boys are restless and Delhi has a lot to offer. Maybe the museums are a good choice and the sprawling India Gate lawns in the evenings.
The idea is to chill and have fun.
Happy Mother’s Day to all the mothers and to fathers who double up as mom in the absence of mothers.
My afternoon siesta was brutally interrupted by a loud crash, a scream and a volley of abuses .I rushed to see what had hit the kid’s room .
The door was closed and shouts and screams were indicating a fierce battle going on inside .Half expecting to be knocked out ,I quietly opened the door .Two aliens with black n green detox face mask ,with a scale n a pillow in hand of each one , turned around to look at me.It took me a second to recognize them .
The room looked tsunami hit ,with practically everything scattered on the floor.
The look of relief on the tear streaked face of Jr. told me who was in command .I scanned the room for the reason for such mayhem.
The coveted object and the reason that launched pillows and other stuff ,was lying crushed on the mattress …A new hair styling gel tube .
Unbelievable but true ..
“what’s going on “?,I demanded and the reply I got was something no human being could decipher .A mixture of what seemed like all kinds of curses ,abuses,accusations with names of girls thrown in with special effect .
All in a chorus .
And before I knew, they were on the floor again .
I wondered what had caused these otherwise normal, quite boys to become such ruffians .
My thought process was interrupted by a cracking sound and a wail .
Silence descended for sometime .
I waited patiently for someone to spill the beans .Amidst sobs and green cucumber mask running down the neck with tears ,the defeated soldier explained .
GIRLS ..It was all about them .
There was a party that nite and each one of them wanted to beat other in good looks ..Image ka sawal tha bhai ..
I was impressed .I mean this is what you call cut throat competition.
I still couldn’t get the real reason for the fight .something came hurling towards me and I caught it just in time . A four times slashed new tube of hair gel .(it must have cost him his entire remaining pocket money).
Things were becoming clear now …or were they ?
As I placed the tube in a paper bag wiping my hands ,a dilapidated battered thing, which looked something like a football ,was shoved under my nose by my little Ronaldo …
He had a devastated look on his angelic face ..
I realised that it was one of those testing moments life puts you in ,when there is neither an escape nor a solution .
Torn between anger and sympathy I decided to do something totally unexpected .The cleanup act . Four eyes followed me and a shout in unison.
“WHAT?”,I said with a blank ,stern look .
“NEVER MIND “, grumbled the teen star as he vigorously wiped his mask .The other warrior quietly kicked the emotion packed love of his life ,his only football or rather the remains of it ,in my direction .Hoping for some sympathy.But realising the futility of his action ,wiped the remaining of his half wet mask, on the sleeve of his tee shirt .
I sensed that things were getting back to normal ,so instructing them to cleanup the mess if party was still their priority , I marched out of the door ,sure that I will be hit on the head from behind .
One hour later ,the sound of Linkin’ park blaring out of the room told me that the peace was restored .And room cleaned.
“why?what’s wrong with my clothes? “,I asked in defence of all my salwar kurtas ,tops ,tee shirts etc.
“they suck, insano wale kapde lo ma “..he said
“well ! ,throw some more light on it dear boy” ,I replied .
“you see ma ,these suits n all make you look like auntie and also fat ,so what you need to do is buy some trendy outfits .You look good in hep clothes ..getting my point ?”
I got his point all right, though, I thought ,the ethnic wear looked great on me with the accessories and all .
“I am your mom and I am forty plus so whats the harm in being called auntie ?”I was not very much convinced about my statement but still held my ground .
“oh mater, (that’s one of the things my kids call me ) there are aunties and there are aunties, you need to look cool mom , it gives a great feeling and if your mom is cool then one is up one level in the friend circle you see “
Aha ! so that was the whole point .
“I got it boy ,thanks a ton ” i said with a smile .
“pleasure, mom any time “.he sounded relieved .
So we discarded some precious dresses and with a sinking feeling I handed them to my maid ,who looked as if she had just won a lottery . sigh !
A trip to the market made a big hole in my pocket as I was pushed from one big label to another.I wondered if it was all worth the effort and money .
“of course it is “,he said throwing in some accessories and a few things for himself too (that’s called behti ganga me hath dhona ) lol
well! over a sandwich n iced tea , he threw some more light on the matter .
“mom ,you see dads are a breed apart , you know, and what counts is how updated you are to the new age stuff ,our kinda music gadgets ,a mom in peddle pushers who can be friends and create a comfort zone with our pals is IN ,and a net savvy mom who blogs n does all the trendy stuff is all the more better , he laughed ..
I was speechless ..
“trendy stuff ?” I asked innocently .
“ya jaise ki goin to pubs n all you know .,the reply came matter of fact .
we were through with our shopping spree and a great meal , just then his mobile rang .
“hey dude ,wassup?yar I’m with my mom at Barista” , he said with a hint of pride in his voice .
I just smiled ..[:)]
whatever the reasons , I had some great outfits , had a great meal and most of all spent a wonderful quality time with my boy ..
we walked out of the cafe holdin hand and carrying beautiful moments spent. together .