Logic and Two Five Year Olds

Logic.

The science of inference and deduction.

I am beginning to believe that no one understands this science better than a five year old. 

The promptness and speed with which penetrating insights are arrived at; the alacrity with which judgements are delivered; has been leaving me feeling confounded and grasping for a suitable repartee in almost every skirmish I have with my two five year olds. 

There was a time I used to rate myself pretty okay on the nimble witted scale. 

Not anymore. I don't. 

So, in honour of Year 5, here are few moments that left me off-balance. 

The 5 year old's Guide to the Galaxy

M.O.M had made a successful trip to Mars. And at a fraction of the cost NASA spent on it's missions.

Given that the boys key associations with the motherland is with dirt (dis-gust-ing), people spitting on the roads (awesome), incessant honking (super fun), cows and goats on the roads (actually that is pretty cool too), beggars (distressing) and not very "comfo-ble" stays; I was using this landmark achievement to make them aware that India is much more than all they associate it with.

V1, has his own theory of relativity, wherein the speed of every moving object is relative to that of his favourite animal, the cheetah,

V1 to me:  "Mamma, who is faster? A rocket or cheetah?"

I proceeded to spend the next few minutes patiently explaining the concept of gravity and escape velocity, with a simplicity and conciseness that would have made Jr Gandhi proud.

And that is when V1 interrupted me mid sentence.

"No! I know why the rocket is faster than the cheetah" he said.

"It's because the rocket's butt is on fire. If you put a cheetah's butt on fire, he will go fast like a rocket too". 

I guess there is a reason, we named this one The Wise One. 

The Conservation Dilemma. 

We have been discussing the concept of conservation for a while now. 

I wanted the boys to realise that there are people who walk miles each day for a bucket of water so they respect the resources they have access to. We had also been discussing deforestation and how it is making animals becoming homeless, causing climate change and pushing us slowly towards the brink of extinction

The other day at the dining table, V1 moved off his chair, mid meal to off to pick up a tissue he definitely didn't need.

Me: Why are you wasting tissues? You are just five minutes away from finishing. You could have washed your hands after you were done. 

V1: But I am using the tissue because you told me not to waste water. 

Me, still annoyed: Every tissue you use was made killing a plant somewhere. 

V1: Do you want me to save water or do you want me to save the plant? You need to choose because I can do only one when I am cleaning my hands. 

Wooing 2 women with one love note..

The Remote Effect

V2: What gift do you want for your birthday Mammy?

Me: I want you to listen to your mamma, to be an obedient child. That can be my gift. 

V2: Oh! So actually you want a remote controller to control me.

Someone figured out that getting Santa's job
would be the best way to collect maximum gifts.

Mothers who live in glass houses ...

It was early morning on a Sunday. I had stayed up late watching some mindless movies and wanted to sleep in and wanted to wake up in my own sweet time.

However, when it comes to sleep, the "mother proposes, child disposes" rule has always been consistent in our household.

So true enough. Was woken up rudely to the sound of my two boys jumping from the bed to the floor in their room, while letting out blood curdling yells, apparently inspired by the Tarzan movie they saw the previous night.

Me: Can you stop this yelling and talking loudly early morning, please!

V2: Why?

Me: Because I cannot handle all these loud yelling and screaming noises. They hurt my ears and give me a headache.

V2: But if you don't like noise, then why do you scream at us all the time?

Its always nice to know what you are doing right...

Hair raising comeback

V1: "Mamma why is your hair getting white?"

Me : Well, each time you are naughty, each time you make me angry or sad or exasperated, one hair on my head turns white"

I pat myself on the back for such inspired, scintillating logic.

It seemed to have worked. 

V1 looked suitably chastised, gave me a tight hug and piped up:  "I will never be naughty. If I be good, Mammy will not be old and die"

It seemed too good to be true. And so of course it didn't last very long.

Because V2 had a question: "Hey Maa, why is Paati's (grandma) hair all white? Does that mean Daddy is naughty and making her angry all the time?"

Ummm... errrr...... hmmmm...... 

There was only one way to answer this. So I said "Stop yakking at bedtime and go to bed NOW" 

Love in the time of Kindergarten

With abject apologies to Alfred, Lord Tennyson, for massacring a classic, I have reached the conclusion that the time when one waited for the Spring of youth to fall in love, is long over. Instead, young men and their "fancy lightly turn into thoughts of love" by the time they reach the ripe age of 4years. 

And so it has been in our household, with our V1 and V2 being very caught up these days with issues that are very pertinent to a 4yr old's existence; such as love and marriage. Every other day, there is some discussion or the other about who to marry, who not to marry, what will lead to marriage, what one looks for when choosing a partner and so on… 

So, in keeping with spirit of Christmas love and to celebrate the winding down of this memorable 2013,  here are a few snippets of our current romances, dalliances and heartbreaks.

Let me show you my moves baby

A few weeks back, the boys and I were at the swimming pool in our condominium. I was busy reading a book by the pool side while the boys were splashing around. At that moment, there arrived, a little water nymph who was all of 8 years old. As she proceeded to jump through an inflatable tire with a proficiency that would put a trained sea lion to shame, the boys stopped all splashing to watch her spell bound. 

V2 our Casanova, not content with being mere audience, decided he needed to make her acquaintance. So each time she jumped, he would clap and shout, "You are so beautiful. Do it again". It must have pleased the girl, for she went on to acknowledge his presence with the faintest hint of a nod and smile. 

So it went on; V2 playing the love struck fan by furiously clapping and showering compliments and the water nymph raising her game with more daring dives to further impress her admirer. 

All this while, V1 had been watching her silently. He must have decided it was time to make his presence felt, for, after an entire half hour spent watching her, he finally spoke.
"Hey, I can see your bum", he said.

Result : Pin drop silence for a moment, followed by a glare that could kill from kilometres away; and then the water nymph stomped off in a huff.

Why do I begin with this incident?
Because this moment; in a nutshell, sums up the difference in their style, their attitude and their modus operandi.
V1 is typical guy - uncomplicated, forthright and is yet to grasp the enormous power of flattery.
V2 on the other hand, is a smooth operator, who instinctively knows what is the right thing to say, how to charm and is harbouring ambitions of creating his own personal harem.

It's not what you said!

V1 comes home from school looking crestfallen one day. "Mammy, one girl pinched me in the bus and it hurt me so much"

The Bong mother was understandably worked up. "Why did she pinch you? Did you complain to your bus aunty?"

V1: "No, she pinched me because I annoyed her"

Me sighing: "What did you do to annoy her"

V1: "Me call her a big, red watermelon and she got angry"

I sigh louder and bend down to explain patiently to my innocent child, how the world works ,
"People get mad if you call them a watermelon. It's not a compliment. Why would you call her a watermelon?" 

V1: "But I love watermelons Mammy. I call her watermelon because I like her. But her get annoyed and her pinched me. I told you girls are annoying and silly"

Marry for love or money? Or a few pieces of silver? 

One day V2 comes up to me and says, "I want to marry Aunty C"

Me: "Eh? Why? I didn't know you liked her so much"

Aunty C is one of my closest friends.
V1 and V2 adore her 12yr old daughter and her husband but have never been overtly enamoured by her. Hence I was confused as to these new developments. 

V2 explains patiently, "Mammy when I ask you for your necklace, you said you give me your jewellery only if I marry a girl you like. So I thought and I thought and I had a very good idea. I marry Aunty C because you like her. And then I can have all your jewellery."

All it takes is just one kiss!

Christmas carol singing in school.
While all the children including V2, dressed cutely in Santa hats, are singing along, V1 sits there, with his hat pulled over his eyes, pretending he doesn't exist and looking like he wishes to be light years away from the whole spectacle. 

During the singing, there are parts where you have to hug and kiss the person next to you.
Next to V1 is a cute little Japanese girl in red. She looks crestfallen, because each time she tries to hug V1, he glares at her and utters a loud No.

After the singing was over, I decide to have a chat with V1.
"How was the singing" I ask. "Did you not enjoy yourself?"
V1 is a man of few words, like his dad.
"No" he says.
"Okay. But why didn't you let the girl hug and kiss you? She looked so sad because you were pushing her away" I said, trying to appeal to his better nature.
"I didn't want her to kiss me" V1 replied.
"Why?"
"Because if she kissed me, she would have wanted to marry me"

The No.1 thing to look for in your life partner? 

We are talking about the movie Frozen which we saw that weekend.
What we are discussing is the fight between the 2 sisters Elsa and Anna on the topic of Anna's marriage.

V1: "Why her sister say she can't marry?"
Me: "Because the guy was a stranger and her sister said she couldn't marry a stranger."

At this point V2, who is perpetually showing off his superior knowledge, pipes in.
"You cannot marry a stranger.

You need to know them for 76 minutes.

If you can remember their name after 76 minutes, you can marry them.
If you cannot remember their name, you cannot marry them"

Now THAT, is some really sensible advice indeed!!! I just wish he remembers it when he is 21!  

Second time's the charm...

V1 may have the knack of showering people with the worst compliments, but apparently he is getting better at it. This is a story I heard from his class teacher at the PTA meeting.

V1 to Ms K, "Ms K, I love your skin"
Ms K is from New Zealand and is heavily freckled. According to her, she has received many compliments in her life but none for how her skin looks.
So she asked V1 why he loved her skin.
V1: "Because you have so many spots Ms K, you look like a cheetah."
Cheetah being V1's favourite animal, Ms K, needless to say was touched with that genuine, heartfelt compliment.

Brothers before Others!

Inspite of all the talk of not wanting to be married (V1) or wanting to have 11 wives (V2 as of last count), there is one love that trumps all others as of now..
No, not the love for Mammy but for the brother, best friend, partner in crime.

Thus,
Love is…..

Appointing yourself brother's legal counsel and negotiating on his behalf, each time he is pulled up by Mammy.

Waking up in the middle of the night, and dragging brother while simultaneously carrying his water bottle, his pillow and toy to Daddy Mammy's room, so he doesn't get left behind alone.

Coming home proudly displaying the certificate the teacher handed you. Then you look at your brother who is crying inconsolably because he didn't receive one. And then without even batting an eyelid, you tear your precious certificate in half and hand over one half to your crying brother and say "Here, take your share".

And love is…. jumping into the deeper end of the pool without a thought, even when you can barely swim on your own, even though your dad is already there, because "my brother was sinked and I needed to rescue him"

On that note, here's to a 2014 filled with loads of love and happiness! 

Of Sassy kids and Speechless parents

Isn't it interesting how parenting is so fraught with sweet irony? 

For instance, you wait with bated breath for your kids to utter their first words and swoon at every cute lisp they belt out; and then as the words get clearer and their mastery over their vocabulary gets better; you spend the rest of their childhood, part flabbergasted, part horrified and part amused at the answers that come a little too pat for your comfort and the irrevocable logic that makes you feel like a dunce and wonder if you are raising little lawyers cum hostage negotiators? 

Art by V1,
the upside down person in the corner is his rendition of his brother V2 

Thus, here I am, part flabbergasted, part horrified and part amused and always feeling like a dunce who wonders "Why the hell was I not as smart when I was this age?"; coming back with some of my most memorable conversation moments with my twin terrors!

We do it Gangnam Style!

V1: Didu (grandma) What language does Shiva speak? Does he know Hindi?

My Mom: Ofcourse

V1: Does he know Bangla?

My Mom: Yes

V1: What about English?

My Mom: Lord Shiva is a God and so HE knows and speaks all languages.

At this point, V2, an ardent PSY fan, joins in: But does Shiva know "Gumnum" (gangnam) style?

Keep Calm and Drink Water!

V1 to me: Why are you sitting alone?

Me: I am annoyed. That is why

And then with a dollop of sarcasm and bitchiness, I add: Why, what should I be doing? Stomping my feet and screaming like you?

V1 unfazed: You need to drink water Mammy.

Me: Excuse me? What does that have to do with me being annoyed?

V1 explains calmly: You need to drink water. Daddy drinks lots of water. Daddy is never annoyed. You are annoyed all the time. You need to drink lots of water. Then you not be annoyed like Daddy.

Fishy logic!

V2 loses his temper and shoves V1. 

V1 threatens to go complain to Daddy and Mammy.

Before V1 can step out of the room to complain, V2 immediately starts crying and screaming that V1 hit him. 

Unfortunately for him, the misdirection doesn't pay as Vj had seen him shove V1 and tells him to cut out the pretence.
Which V2 promptly does with his usual roguish grin. 

Vj horrified at the reality of being taken for a ride by a 3yr old (I keep warning him about how they manipulate us but he thinks his kids are real innocent babes-in-the-woods and I am just being a mean-mommy), asks: Why did you lie to me and make up that story?

V2, as always unfazed replies without batting an eyelid: Because I eat lots of fish and I am really clever!

It's all relative!

Me: Why did you spit at your brother? 

V1: He was annoying me.

Me: So should you spit at people if they annoy you or tell them they are annoying you? Do I ever spit at you when you annoy me?

V1, grudgingly: No

Me: Why do you think I don't spit at you when I am angry?

V1: Because we don't annoy you so much! You annoy us more Mammy!

The magic touch!

Me: Why is your brother bleeding? Did you scratch him?

V1: No I didn't do anything 

Me: Tell me the truth

V1: I only touched him Mammy.

Me: You just touched him and blood happened to come out? Touch me and show how you managed that?!!

A hesitant V1 does the demo. As expected, I don't end up having any scratch or bleeding. 

Me: Okay so how come there is no scratch or blood when you touched me?

V1: The blood came by magic mummy. I cannot do magic all the time!

Move over Narcissus!

The other day, V2 was walking with a balloon in his hand when a breeze caught it and made it fly off. Just as I was gearing up for some tears, V2 just turned to me and said, "Did you see that? I made the balloon fly. Do you see how clever I am?"

Needless to say, our V2 thinks he is a genius. 

We are not so sure about the genius bit, but we definitely think he is his own one man PR machine!

Here's another gem from our resident Narcissus. 

V2: Mammy, am I pretty?

Me: Yes you are

V2: And am I handsome?

Me: Yes you are. You are very, very handsome. 

Then not sure what angst caused this, I ask: Why did you ask? Do you not think you are pretty?

V2: No Mammy, I am very pretty but I like to hear you saying it.

Imitation; the best form of flattery??? 

V1: Once upon a time there was an elephant. EAT, EAT, EAT!

V2: The elephant went to the forest. EAT, EAT, EAT!

V1: You annoying me too much. EAT! Hee hee hee.

V2: The elephant met a monkey. EAT, EAT, EAT!

V1: No TV for you anymore because you have stopped eating. Hee hee hee

Me perplexed: What are you both doing?

V1 and V2 in unison: We pretending to be you. We talking like you Mammy!

Confessions of a Book-a-holic

“Be awesome! Be a book nut!” — Dr. Seuss

Once upon a time there was a little girl who loved to read.  She wasn't very outgoing or social or sporty.  Her world, instead, revolved around books. 

When her sisters and friends were out playing or cycling, she sat in a corner of the garden, reading furiously. When she had a book in her hand, the world she lived in ceased to exist; replaced by something far more beautiful, mysterious, adventurous and magical.

By the time she was 8, she was borrowing books from 3 libraries in the little town she lived in. 

At times she got into trouble because of her reading, like the time her Dad got really angry when he caught her surreptitiously reading an Agatha Christie while pretending to be studying for the class test the next morning. There were times when people called her unsocial, snooty or just plain weird. None of that ever dampened her love affair with her books.

She grew older, went to college and then moved to a big city. She started working and living on her own, but her love for reading only grew stronger.

After all, she could now afford to buy as many books as she wanted!

When her mother visited her in the big city, she found her daughter spending every free minute and hour of her day and her weekends, crawled up in bed with a book. "This is unhealthy. You need a life" she said and went promptly dragged her daughter to the market and made her buy a TV. 

Slowly the TV started taking up more and more time, as did the new boyfriend. 

She got married, worked crazy hours, travelled like a maniac. 

Then one day, she had little kids of her own. 

Slowly and surely, as time passed, the obsession with reading started getting weaker and weaker... 

The demands of the real world took over and her moments of escape into the world of words became fewer and fewer. If she stayed up late, it was not because the book in her hand was gripping, but because the kids were demanding to be rocked to sleep. And the days of locking herself in a room to finish a book were long gone, especially with two little tykes banging on the door, demanding they be let in. 

And after her 50 cartons and 3 trunks full of books became the hot topic of conversation for the movers, each time she moved cities and countries; she decided it was time to be more prudent about the books she added to her already brimming bookshelves. 

She still read more than most people but not as much as she wished she could. And she still could never walk by a bookshop without rushing in and picking up and few and adding them to her ever growing collection because somehow the Kindles and the iBooks of the world, could never replace the feel, the look, the touch and the smell of a "real book".

Still, in her heart she knew.
The bookaholic in her was slowly but surely losing out..
If things continued the way they were, she would soon be on the verge of extinction.

And then one morning, she got a call from the Library. 

"The two books you have reserved have become available. When would you like to come and pick them up?" the man asked. 

"Really?" she wanted to jump with joy. 

She had been waiting to start the 'A song of Fire and Ice' series but couldn't till the first two books became available. 

She stopped for a second to think of all the chores that needed done that day - calling the caterer and finalising snacks for the kids b'dy party, running to a few shops to hunt down the return gifts and a visit to B-I-Y to get ingredients for their b'dy cake. Each of these had been marked in red and underlined in her diary for a week now. 

Everything and more had to be done today.

She sighed and took a decision. 

Obviously, it went without saying that the more important things needed to be done first.

"Maa" she yelled. "We need to go to the library NOW. I will figure out when we can schedule all the other stuff"

The Mother of course was not fooled. 

"Ektu o bodlale na tumi. Boi-er pisach roiley"**, she shook her head in mock disapproval; after all the girl had inherited her love of reading, albeit in much more severe doses.

The book-a-holic didn't even bother to reply. 

She was busy grinning from ear to ear, thinking about A Game of Thrones and A Clash of Kings, which would finally be in her hand after a wait of 2 whole months! 

**Loosely translated "You haven't changed one bit. You are still the ghost lives on/ devours books"

_______________________________________________

While writing this, I started asking myself who a book-a-holic really is? Is it someone who considers themselves really well read or has every room in their house filled with books or does it go beyond these, metamorphosing over time, from a hobby into a passion and then, into an obsession? 

As I started looking for answers, I drew out my list of a few signs that helps you recognise a book-a-holic. 

So here are my 12 signs of a book-a-holic : 

You can safely assume you are a book-a-holic when -

1. Your heart skips a few beats (and not in a good way) and your smile becomes forced, if a visitor to your home asks if they can borrow a book. How can you lend a book to a perfect stranger, when you even cringe at the thought of having to lend it to your own sister? But there are times, you just aren't able to say No but then you make a mental note to never invite that person to your house ever again! (For the sister, you end up giving her a thousand and one warnings and an equal number of reminders to make sure she returns the book on time and in the condition she borrowed it in).

2. Your New Year resolutions, instead of focussing on the weight you need to lose or the job you need to find; instead go along these lines of "I need to read atleast 2 great books a month" or "I shall not buy any more books till I have finished reading the ones on my bookshelf"

3. You have replaced your usual morning walk with an hour on the elliptical trainer, not because you want to burn more calories or lose weight faster, but because it gives you an extra hour to read a book in peace!

4. Your idea of doling out punishment to your kids involves sending them to bed without a bedtime story! Conversely, a reward for good behaviour involves reading atleast 3 stories at bedtime!

5. You learn that you can borrow 8 books from the Library at one go; but it never strikes you that there is actually an option where in you can borrow less than 8. To you it only means you need to step up your reading speed so you can finish all 8 in the requisite 3 weeks! 

6. You carry 5 books along with you when you land up for your first cricket one day international in a stadium! 

7. You spend an entire day desperately hopping from one branch of the National Library to the other just because you HAVE the urge to read your latest favourite author, Camilla Läckberg's Ice Princess NOW!!!

8. Your moods are governed by what you are reading at present - so you end up yelling at the husband because you were upset after reading the Kite Runner or there is a skip in your step because you discovered a beautiful little book called The Secret History (Donna Tartt) in the second hand bookshop you often like to visit and in your life there haven't been many gloomy days that P.G. Wodehouse hasn't been able to brighten. 

9. You feel the world has come to an end because you cannot find a way to resurrect your two oldest friends; your tattered copy of the Lord of the Rings and a Hitchhiker's guide to the Galaxy, and are forced to buy new copies of the same. Similar feelings of an endless void in your life, that can never be filled, had struck you when you finish reading the Millennium series and didn't know what to do next.

10. You create your very own social pecking order on the basis of what people read.... For instance, you can never ever really be friends with someone who claims to enjoy Chetan Bhagat! And you seriously evaluate your relationship with a friend because the said person couldn't stop raving about Eat, Pray, Love; a book that you found utterly disappointing and not to mention, a complete waste of time, effort and money! 

11. The only sin more unpardonable than not having read the Lord of the Rings or To Kill a Mocking bird or the Colour Purple, is not having heard of any of them! Naturally people who do not read/ like to read are, in your social pyramid, placed somewhere between those with a missing brain and those with STDs.

12. And finally, the "perfect" man of your dreams exists only inside the pages of your favourite book!

Oh well, in my case, to be fair, Gregory Peck did bring Atticus Finch to life in the movie version of To Kill a Mockingbird! 

“Never trust anyone who has not brought a book with them.” — Lemony Snicket

Note: This is my list and so coloured by my observations. If you wish to add to it, you are most welcome to throw in your suggestions

The new school

“You can drag my body to school but my spirit refuses to go.” 

~  The Essential Calvin and Hobbes

"I don't want to go to school Mammy"

It's Monday morning. 

The one day of the week, I look forward to with a mixture of eager anticipation and relief; especially after a weekend filled with running behind the brats and begging them to eat at every meal; with breaking up fights and soothing frayed tempers; till my own gives up somewhere along the way. 

The handyman is coming to discuss where to hang the paintings. 

The AC repair guy is coming in the afternoon.
The CV is taking forever to be updated and sent off to the placement consultants.

I think of all the other chores I have lined up for today and wonder how I am going to deal with them if the going to school doesn't happen. 

"Whaaaaat? Whyyyyyy?" I ask in a panic. 

"I don't like school" comes the refrain.
"But you have to go to school everyday. All boys and girls have to" I explain patiently.
V2 is equally patient, as if explaining to someone whose comprehension skills need serious handholding. "But I don't want to go to school again and again and again Mammy". 

No, no, no. 

This is not good. 

This cannot be happening so soon.
We have (hopefully) years and years of going to school ahead of us. We cannot be encountering ennui this early on.

So I put on my most animated face and try cover up the panic I am feeling inside. 

"But you like going to school" I chirp with an excitement I am nowhere close to feeling.

Pat comes the answer from V2. "No I don't. You like going to school." 

Hmmmmm . . . . . . . that's real astute of the kid to have figured that out so fast, I think.  

"But you have so much fun in school" I continue. 

The brats refuse to be swayed. 

"No I don't. I have fun at home." V1 joins in with his brother. 

"But today is music. Don't you love music?" I plead.

"What! Music again?" groans V2.

It's time to pull the last ace up my sleeve. 

"Well, when you come back, I will let you have a Kitkat today" I say. 

And with that, the crisis is averted; at least for now. 

As I continue packing their bags and snack boxes, I think back to how different this was on the day V1 and V2  started their new school.

Exactly 2 weeks back, on the 15th of January, the Vs started their new school.

Given the fact that the Vs had been at home these last 2 months and that we had just relocated from another country and left all their friends and many a thing that is familiar behind; I had been terribly worried about how long they would take to settle in this time. Add to it the fact that they would have to go in a school bus on their own and that this school was not walking distance from our home like their previous play-school in London, didn't make matters any easier for me.

Every day I talked to them about how they were no longer babies and so would be going in a "big boy bus" and to a "big boy school". And everyday, a part of me imagined a thousand and one scenarios that had me terrified - what if they lost their identity tag and boarded the wrong bus back; what if they got off at the wrong stop; what if someone bullied them in the bus; what if they dropped their snack box etc etc etc.

We did many dry runs to make sure they got ready on time to catch the bus. We even did dry runs of opening the snack box without dropping the food and of wearing the identity tag to make sure they never got rid of it (yes you guessed right, I have a bad case of OCD). And what to do in case they discovered the loss of their name tag till they knew the procedure by heart.

And then the day to go to school arrived. I took them in a cab to drop them as it was their first day.  While I was feeling all dewy-eyed and overly emotional about their going off to a big school and kept remembering that statement about how letting your children go is like watching your heart walk outside your body and being unable to do a thing about it; the boys were experiencing no such bouts of soppiness. Instead they were miffed that I had not let them take the school bus they had been waiting to ride.

As I waited for the teacher to take the children in, I watched the other kids; some were sniffling; some were crying, some were quietly clinging to their moms. And my brats? They had already climbed over the gate and were swinging on it like two miniature Tarzans and simultaneously running around trying to peep into the other classrooms.

When the teacher came to take them to the classroom and all the other kids clung even more tightly to their mommies, I waited to see (a little hopefully I must admit) if this was when my brats would lose their bravado and run to me.
No such luck.
Each instead gave me a stern look and said, "You go now Mammy. I am a big boy now."
But I still went along, unable to let go; unable to say goodbye that easily.
And also because the other mommies were all going to the classroom with their kids and I didn't want to be the only odd one out.
Not this early in the semester anyway.

I needn't have bothered. The teacher took the kids to the playground and my sons didn't even spare me a second glance. With a hurried "bye Mammy" V1 and V2 rushed off to conquer the monkey bars.

Suddenly, as I was leaving, V2 ran up to me. I knelt down with a smile, to envelop him in a big hug thinking how my little V2, who always hangs around me like my conjoined twin, will always remain his Mammy's little boy.
And then he looked at me and said, "No come to pick me up Mammy, I come in school bus"

From Calamity to Cakewalk...

I must have missed my appointment with the Creator the day he was to install this app called Perseverance in me. Add to that the fact that I have the patience of a 2 year old and a penchant to cook up ambitious plans, my life has been a series of projects that begin grandly but fizzle out somewhere along the way! 

Like the endless diet-exercise routines that started with great expectations and meticulous to-do charts but were forgotten before the week was out! Or the time I tried to master Tamil to impress the Tamilian hubby. I went looking for a book to learn Tamil in 7 days, believing in my arrogance that is the amount of time it would take for me to learn! Needless to say, not only did I not master Tamil in 7 days, it has been 12 years since and I can still barely speak it!

Most sensible people would imbibe something from these experiences, but not me! Such life-lessons usually escape me till they hit me on the head and leave behind a sizeable dent. These experiences too, were conveniently forgotten till I embarked on my cupcake-making mission – and ended up falling flat on my face!

Now when it comes to baking, I make a decent meatloaf, a helluva kebab, a yummy pizza and a mean steak, but when it comes to cakes or cookies, I am utterly lost. I completely lack a sweet tooth, as does the husband, so a ‘why learn when won’t eat’ logic kept me from making any attempt in this sphere in the past!

Then I became a mother, and the Universe, in a bid to correct the imbalance in our dessert spurning household, decided my sons should demand cakes at every meal! So, like any doting mommy, I bit the bullet and proceeded to bake the first cupcakes of my life. How difficult could it be to mix a few ingredients and stick it in the oven till it got done, I asked myself.

I made my own improvisations to the recipe, obviously assuming I knew best and then I put the cupcakes in the oven and sat down to spend some quality time on Facebook!

However this time the Gods seemed intent on teaching me a lesson that I wouldn’t forget easily. As I was connecting with friends in the virtual world, my cupcakes were doing their own social-networking inside the oven, the batter from each reaching out to the others in a giant group hug session! I didn’t realize anything was wrong till a burning smell reached my nose. Not only did my cupcakes emerge a homogenous mass, they were also burnt at both ends!

The husband took one look, and diplomatically said, “You know I don’t eat cakes. Too many calories”! Twin1 was as diplomatic as his Dad, “Mamma, me likes fruits, no likes cakes”, he explained. Twin2 was more gallant; he took a look at my crestfallen face, and ate one. But before I could rejoice, he promptly proceeded to throw it all up on me!

All my visions of becoming the next Martha Stewart came crashing down! Utterly dejected, I sat down to analyse what went wrong. Maybe some people aren’t meant to bake, I thought, consoling myself. “Not true! Baking is all about practice”, said every expert baker I knew. I wasn’t too convinced.

Then, as I was ready to quit, my boys asked, “We make cake again Mamma?” That clinched it! I couldn’t quit now. What would I be teaching my sons? So I wasn’t meant to be a natural, but atleast I could be the Ivan Lendl of baking; striving for perfection through sheer grit!

Thus like a phoenix, rising from the ashes of my cake burning disaster (that’s the Bong drama queen in me speaking), I decided to try again. Swallowing my pride, I focused on learning to walk before I could fly. I followed instructions to the tee, I kept vigil like a hawk and I stayed off Facebook while the cakes were baking.  And the rewards of my diligence were a batch of perfect vanilla cupcakes with chocolate-chips!

Recipe for Choco-Chip Cookies (Recipe very kindly and generously donated by a sweet angel who came to my rescue a.k.a  Sandeepa from Bong Mom’s CookBook. Here is the original)

Ingredients (Makes 12)

1 cup – All purpose flour (Maida)

1 teaspoon – Baking soda

2 – Eggs

1 Cup – Sugar

1 teaspoon – Vanilla Essence

1 cup – Butter

¼ teaspoon – Salt

½ cup – Milk

Chocolate chips

Method:

In a mixing bowl, mix sugar and butter. I used the spatula first and then the electric beater.

After it is mixed well, add vanilla essence and the eggs, one at a time. Beat well.

In a separate bowl, mix flour, salt and baking soda.

Now add the flour slowly into the egg-sugar-butter mixture and mix well. If it is too thick, add milk, little by little till the thickness is right – it should pour out well and but should not be too watery. Add chocolate chips to the batter. Grease the cupcake liners and pour batter into them, filling only half of each.

Bake at 180 degrees for 25-35 minutes (varies by oven) till a knife/toothpick comes out clean when inserted into the centre of the cakes.

“If you can’t excel with talent, triumph with effort.” ~ Stephen Weinbaum

NOTE :

Please note that this was originally published in the Women's Web on 20th August 2012. 
This post is a slightly less abridged version of the same. For those who have already read it, my apologies for subjecting you to it again. But I wanted it on my blog as a reminder, for the sake of my already failing memory. 

The Centre of the Triangle

“As many have discovered, it is entirely possible (although not particularly desirable) to love two people with all your heart. It is entirely possible to long for two lives, to feel that one life can't come close to containing it all.” ~ Gabrielle Zevin, Elsewhere

The centre of the triangle. 

That is where she stands trapped now, 

As chaos rage within her and around her. 

Aren't centres supposed to be full of calm, she wonders; 

Even when it is a false sense of calm that barely hides and just about delays that impending sense of doom? 

So why is this centre so tumultuous as if it were the epicentre of the storm going on inside her at this moment?

On one corner lies temptation

On the other, loyalty

Oh! The sprightliness of youth. 

That beautiful smile that lights up even the darkest of nights.

That bright sparkle in his eyes that her eyes reflect back each time she looks at him. 

Those chiselled features that would be the envy of many a Greek God. 

The smooth contours of his body. 

He lights up with her slightest touch, 

He responds to her every whim, 

With an energy she had forgotten existed… 

The way he makes her feel each time she is around him ; 

Full of fire, red-blooded, rearing to go…. 

To spread her wings and fly into the sky of possibilities ….

He is the companion of many a long year. 

The secret keeper, the trusted friend, the comrade-in-arms, 

His once rugged physique, now ravaged by the countless battles they fought together, side by side, hand in hand… 

He was there when she poured her heart out. 

He rejoiced in her jubilation. 

He was the rock she parked her hopes and dreams on. 

He held her hand when it was dark and she was alone… 

The ardour of youth has long been gone, replaced by intimacy… 

Of long silences where they understand each other perfectly…. 

To not have him around, to let go of him, would be to lose a part of herself, 

To leave all that is familiar, to start all over again. 

Oh why does she need to choose?

But choose she must. 

The clock is ticking. 

Her fence sitting is only delaying the inevitable… 

She knows that, 

They both know that. 

And they wait… 

The young blood, with the assurance, the smugness of a predator who knows it is only a matter of time 

The not-so-young, with the resignation of one who knows it won’t be long before the curtain falls… 

Yet she delays the inevitable for as long as she can

Her last act of fealty, of solidarity… 

But she knows it is only a matter of Time 

Move she must… 

Move she will…. 

And she will fall in love again

The faithful friend will become a distant memory… 

Slowly receding into the darkness each passing day… 

There will spring new dreams 

Together they will create new magic
Together they will venture into the unknown

Fight new battles 

Share new secrets.
Soon it shall happen. 

Soon, she will go Mac 

And then, there will be no looking back! 

Dedicated to my old faithful friend of many years - my HP Pavilion Notebook

To my brand new MacBook Pro: Here's to new possibilities!
Picture - Getty images

Maid in Heaven

Maid in Heaven 

Elusive be Thy name 

When will Thou come??? 

Until then we stay undone…. 

My post today is about a journey, an odyssey of sorts ...... an odyssey that it's pilgrims consider no less noble, no less angst ridden, no less melodramatic, no less hazardous than that undertaken by Ulysses himself! 

This is about a quest to seek that that one person without whom the household comes to a complete stand still. This person may be called by many names in many cultures – maid, kaam wali bai, pembantu, domestic help, the cleaning lady etc etc.... 

No matter what you call her, you cannot overlook that one crucial fact – the well oiled, smoothly running cogs of your domestic machine grind and screech to a halt in her absence. Or if she digs in her heels and decides to show you a small trailer of just how indispensable she is to your life! 

Thankfully I have been extremely lucky to have found my Angel of Mercy. 

Our Nanny G, may have her moods and her moments, but she is, without a doubt, the axis around which our little earth rotates. 

Our Rock of Gibraltar. 

And our Ring of Fire. 

Any hint of the slightest seismic activity, any little tremor in her mood, her temperament or God forbid, her health, and the effects magnify and echo through our household like an all consuming force of destruction…. 

However this post is not about our Angel. 

This is about someone who is still searching for deliverance, still seeking her Angel of Mercy. 

These limericks have been inspired by her journey, her struggle, her angst. 

As they say in the movies – 'The following is based on real life events!' 

I decided to name this post, "Maid in Heaven". 

Maid in Heaven 

In the 'burbs of busy, bustling Mumbai, lived Mandy Sue 

She had so many chores she didn’t know what to do! 

She had a baby and a job and a house to juggle, 

So she prayed for an Angel to deliver her from this struggle! 

She was generous and considerate and thought that would be enough 

Little did she know, the search for the RIGHT ONE could be really, really rough! 

First came Sita, who was like manna from Heaven 

Things went just fine till it was month eleven! 

She seemed so capable and was a real sweet talker 

Even though she never remembered to strap the baby in the rocker! 

And then one day Sita disappeared out of the blue. 

Everyone said she ran away, but not Mandy Sue! 

She marched to the police to lodge a missing persons report 

She glared at the laughing policemen till their chuckles died in their throat. . . 

And then she was mortified to discover she was so very wrong. 

Sita the Chaste, had indeed eloped with the boyfriend; they found her on Marine Drive singing many a Bollywood song! 

Next came a poor girl who was obsessed with every form of germ 

She washed her hands so often, she made Mandy squirm. 

She was also anorexic and that further drove Mandy mad! 

When she ran away…Boy! Was Mandy glad!!! 

Then came Jenny who made no fuss with her food 

Peace reigned at home, Life suddenly felt good! 

Mandy was so thankful, she showered her with many a gift. 

So imagine her horror to find herself being given (again!!!) the short shrift! 

One would say Mandy had only herself to blame for this one! 

What did she think would happen, when she gave the help a holiday to get her passport done!!! 

It was only a matter of time before she broke Mandy’s heart 

With a job waiting in Cyprus, she was off to a flying start! 

Hurt, Mandy now looked for someone who’d appreciate all she had to offer. 

She signed up a contract and put an advance into the agency’s coffer. 

But her luck didn’t hold this time around as well. 

No. 4 never showed up on the agreed day, making Mandy pull her hair and yell!! 

Now Mandy decided to find someone less flighty, a person with a bit of root 

So, a middle aged lady with 3 grown up kids, that was Mandy’s new recruit! 

Things went okay for a day or two. 

Mandy started wondering if it was too good to be true! 

Post day three, sure enough, came a most ominous sign, 

The baby started calling the toilet, “Sandaas”** and that was just NOT fine!!! 

And finally came the woman who foxed Mandy the most! 

No.6 was in Mumbai to visit her parents; and earning extra moolah made her take on the post. 

She was great at her work and was everything Mandy could desire 

But alas, she chose to work only as a temp, and was not available for hire! 

Now Mandy waits desperately for maid number Seven 

Hoping this one shall indeed be the elusive Maid in Heaven! 

Lucky No. Seven 

We pray you are The One! 

Until then Mandy shall journey through Hell 

And her life shall stay undone…. 

Note: Art is by yours truly, done on the iPad.

P.S - ** Sandaas - low-brow, vernacular expression for the word "potty", considered crass and unrefined.