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!

Lost and Found Resolutions

"Are we fighting?" asked my 3 and a half yr old.

"Of course we are fighting! I am very, very angry with you" I replied curtly, turning away.

I was furious.

V2 had just vomited out his entire medicine.

And when I asked him why he did that, he laughed. 

Simply Laughed.
In. My. Face.

I knew V2 had thrown up not because he gagged and couldn't help himself, but because this was his way of showing me "this is what will happen if you force me to do what I don't want to do".

There he stood, giving me his trademark roguish grin, like he always did, expecting to charm his way out of trouble. Except at this point, I wasn't up to sharing his sense of humour.

The boys had missed school and were home the entire day. 

Which basically meant I had spent all my day yelling "No" and "Don't" in increasingly frantic tones every 90 seconds; at home, at the doctor's and at the restaurant we had our meal in; everywhere we went, we had a repeat of the same story.

And in a fit of madness, to cheer myself up, I had gobbled up an entire pizza at lunch. Even though it was my first pizza in 6 months, I was unable to shake off the guilt; and after the initial carb-cheese induced euphoria had died down, I had begun feeling miserable. Just when I thought matters couldn't get any worse, on entering the word pizza on a mobile app that calculates calories consumed, I had discovered that one meal mistake alone had cost me around 1200 calories; about 200 calories more than what I consume in all my meals added together each day.

Needless to say, at this point, I wasn't feeling very amenable to sharing V2's sense of humour about vomiting out his medicine.

Also I was worried.

Unlike India, most medicines here are not over the counter.

The thought of having to go back to the doctor and wait another 2hrs just to get a replacement, was not adding any sunshine to my already grim day.

"We cannot fight." V2 insisted, wiping away his tears.

"Why? Why we cannot fight?" I asked, unyielding.

At this point, I was so mad, I wasn't even paying attention to my grammar.

"We cannot fight because it is not nice. YOU said fighting not nice." he said.

"Oh" I said, as it slowly started dawning on me that I was having a heated argument with a boy who wasn't even 4!

V2 saw me soften and went for the kill.

"You said not to call people 'silly' and then you called me a silly boy. I am not a silly boy. You saying rude things to me. You cannot talk like this to me."

V2 has always been far more articulate than most kids his age. 

He is also far more articulate than his twin brother.

But I didn't expect to have a 3yr old point out that my behaviour was inappropriate. 

And hurtful to his self esteem.

"What is this new generation coming to?" was my first reaction.
After all, in all these years, I never had the presence of mind, nor the spunk to inform my parents how they should speak to me. I still don't, but that is a different debate altogether which we shall leave for another day.

But no matter what way I looked at it, the chap had a valid point. 

In my anger, I had overlooked the fact that the person speaking to me, is a little individual in his own right. Who has (almost) exactly the same feelings I do. And who expects exactly the same courtesy I expect from him/ her. 

I felt as if someone had poured a jug of ice cold water over my head.
So there was nothing I could do except say I was sorry. 

After he went to bed, I sat there for a long time, pondering over what he said.

Like every parent, I knew when I started, that I will be the first role model in my child's life.
And like most, I began with loads of resolutions and good intentions. 

The first being a strict "do unto them as I would have them do unto me" code; which means no smacking, no shouting, no snatching things from their hands and no high-handedly saying "Because I say so" when they demand to know the reason why I wish them to do things they find particularly unpleasant or unnecessary.

And the second, to never let my fears and prejudices get in the way of them enjoying their childhood; whether it means letting them climb the highest rungs of the monkey bars on their own even when my heart is in my mouth or letting go each time they want to do things on their own or allowing them to be who they are and do things in their own time without judgement, pressure or comparison.

But somewhere along the way, in the day to day struggle of running behind the kids; begging, pleading and trying to manage not one, but two opinionated toddlers, sometimes it is easy to make small slips and let reality cloud over your good intentions. 

Sometimes, is just easier to snatch that glass away from your kid when he refuses to hand it over to you after you have asked for it thrice; or when he has spent his entire dinner blowing spit bubbles into it. 

Sometimes, in spite of your best intentions to be the mother who encourages creativity and imagination, you end up sending the kid crying off to bed, without the bed time story that he loves so much, because he has been trying your patience all evening by stuffing his carrots in his mouth at the dinner table, while pretending to be the walrus he has been reading about. 

Sometimes, when you are in a supermarket and your kids are running around, laughing, having fun; all you can think of is how to stop your worst nightmare of them crashing into the aisle with the ketchup bottles, from coming true. So you start handing out threats of future punishments without stopping to even check if they are touching anything. And you end up never appreciating the fact that each time you say No to something they ask for, they simply nod their head and tell each other, "it must be expensive", instead of throwing a tantrum. 

Sometimes you are just so caught up with bringing sense and order into your life; that you don't realise that of late, "No" and "Don't" precede almost every sentence that comes out of your mouth. And "I shall take away your dinosaur/ bicycle/ scooter/ jeep" has come to replace most attempts at reasoning/ negotiation. You forget that the person you are admonishing for "behaving like a baby" is actually not much older than a baby! And that instead of holding on to and enjoying his childhood while it lasts, you treat it with exasperation and wish he behaved more like a grown up. 

And much as I hated admitting it to myself, I had to acknowledge that I was so caught up in demanding obedience; with laying my word as the law; that I had forgotten that it is normal for a 3 yr old to vomit out a medicine he doesn't like. 

And that I cannot say "you silly boy" to child when I have specifically informed him the word "silly" is rude and unacceptable. 

It had slipped my mind that as a parent, you need to first be real, be indulgent, be fair and be forgiving.... 

That you need to measure up to the same standards you expect from your kids.

That you cannot stray away from the code you have set for them to follow.

I had to concede that somewhere along the way, I had drifted off-course.

And that it took the good sense of a 3yr old to remind me of what was amiss. 

'If I had my child to raise all over again' ~  Diane Loomans

If I had my child to raise all over again,

I'd build self esteem first, and the house later.

I'd finger paint more, and point the finger less.

I would do less correcting and more connecting.

I'd take my eyes off my watch, and watch with my eyes.

I would care to know less and know to care more.

I'd take more hikes and fly more kites.

I'd stop playing serious, and seriously play.

I would run through more fields and gaze at more stars.

I'd do more hugging and less tugging.

I'd see the oak tree in the acorn more often.

I would be firm less often, and affirm much more.

I'd model less about the love of power,

And more about the power of love.

In the name of love

This post, has been sitting in my drafts folder for the last couple of years. Each time I decide to post it on Valentine's Day, my more non-controversial, more politically correct half says, "Don't you think it is a bit drastic? I mean for a day when everybody is celebrating romance and saying nice things? Why don't you think about it and if you still feel like it, you can always post it later"

So every year I decide not to be the wet blanket out to dampen the romance in the air. 

But this year, after finally spending 2 long years debating whether I really want to say what I have to say in this post and if this is what I truly feel, I realize that the answer to both the questions is a resounding YES. Hence I decided to go ahead and do this post. Today.

Now before you accuse me of being the Valentine Grinch, let me say upfront that while the sane, rational, cynical part of me always sneers at the marketing gimmick that is at the heart of this day, I have nothing against it per se. 

In fact, it is one of the rare days, the hubby makes it a point to take me out to dinner of his own accord and sometimes if I am really lucky, hands me a bunch of flowers or a card (again without any demand/ threat/ prompting on my part); so, on the contrary, I am very thankful that this occasion comes once a year. After all, in the midst of managing life, kids, family, job or lack of it and feeling endlessly stressed, hassled, exhausted and hormonal, it is always great to have a few moments which focus on you; even one that is artificially created, falsely embellished and impossibly hyped.

And no, I have nothing against Love either. 

Well, after having nixed my parents dream of "a nice, rice and fish loving Bangali boy for our daughter" and ending up marrying a fish hating, rice hating Tamilian Roman Catholic, I cannot exactly claim to be anti-romance, can I? 

Now, having issued so many disclaimers,  let's now get on with the whole point of this post. 

Every year when V'day is around the corner; my senses (and I am sure some of yours) get inundated with this non stop droning about romance. While I am all for celebrating love and companionship and romance; what I find unbearably annoying and not to mention, unrealistic, is this media portrayed Utopian version of romance;  a version that most people ultimately end up expecting in their own reality. A version, where love is a happily ever after where you hold hands and walk into the sunset on exotic beach locations or the pristine grasslands of New Zealand or on the Swiss Alps; where life is overflowing with chocolates, hammy dialogues, giant teddy bears, flowers and Hallmark greetings; where there abound perfect proposals and even more perfect beach side weddings (never mind that the wedding celebrations usually tend to last longer than the actual marriage does);  and where brooding, unbearably gorgeous, droopy eyed, blood sucking vampires and men who turn into werewolves at night, send you into a romantic frenzy instead of making you run for your life! 

I have an issue when almost every communication about romance is constantly drilling it into our heads that love is about "two hearts beating as one" and there residing but "two souls in one body" or "two souls with one thought" etc etc etc and that "life is incomplete unless you find that ONE person" who completes your life and who chooses to spend every minute of their time with you and who completes your sentences even before you are halfway through uttering them (am I the only one who finds that sentence completion vision infuriating rather than romantic?)

In fact I have wondered at times, if it is even possible to realistically achieve the concept of two hearts beating as one without crossing the boundaries of claustrophobia? 

In the last decade- decade and half, most of the people I have known, like me, have gone through this transition of being single to being a couple. Each person I know has dealt with this shift differently; while some have held on to a part of themselves with dogged stubbornness and resilience, some have immersed themselves whole heartedly in being a "couple" and have let the WE take over their whole existence.

To every person who has asked/ been asked by their partner to give up their hobbies/ interests in order to spend more time with their spouse, to every person who has gotten upset or thrown a tantrum if their spouse has made plans that doesn't include them; I have wanted to ask; is this not taking the concept of "two bodies, one soul" a bit too literally? 

Does one have to be joined at the hip to qualify to be soul-mates?

Why should a relationship feel weaker if two people with different interests and passions choose to spend some amount of time separately, pursuing their own interests instead of being stuck together doing things and pretending to like doing things they detest in the name of spending time together? 

Now I am no therapist nor am I some Love Guru. 

But I am a realist and I do know that someone like me who hardly has any hobby or interest in common with my hubby, would be miserable if I were to spend all my time doing what he likes. As would he if I were to make him visit endless museums or movies or gardens with me. 

Does it mean spending less time together? Yes, it does. 

But isn't it better be left alone to do what I love rather than having to do the same thing with the pressure of having a thoroughly bored and unhappy man hanging around my neck? Absolutely!
So, I can never qualify to be the poster child of Yashraj romances; but that feeling of sheer liberation from worrying about how bored/ annoyed my partner is, while I do what I want, makes that loss bearable! :)

And to every woman on the other end of the spectrum; every one who feels neglected and lonely and incomplete and craves that sizzle, that romance, those flowers and the surprise gift; I say, why on earth do you need to wait for a man to get you what you love? 

If you want flowers, go ahead and buy yourself some for God's sake! After all, no one knows what you like more than you, right? So go on, spend money on an expensive bouquet of the most exotic blooms you can find and tell yourself you are so worth it! And if you have a husband who doesn't believe in sending you any (mine thinks flowers are perishable and therefore a waste of money), just order yourself some on special occasions or just for the heck of it, and hand him the bill. Trust me, it is a much better option to sitting and waiting endlessly for some flowers that never arrive or arrive under duress.

And if you crave for a movie or a nice meal or a spa holiday, why not just take yourself out to one? To (mis)quote my favourite sitcom character, Frasier Crane, "I am my own perfect date! I am always on time, I know when to leave and I never tire of listening to myself" :)

And now, since I am not really sure where my endless rambling is leading to, I shall end this very un-romantic post with the following few lines from one of my favourite poems and author - Kahlil Gibran's immortal classic, the Prophet..

"You were born together, 

And together you shall be forevermore.

You shall be together when the white wings of death scatter your days.

Ay, you shall be together even in the silent memory of God.

But let there be spaces in your togetherness,

And let the winds of the heavens dance between you.

Love one another, but make not a bond of love:

Let it rather be a moving sea between the shores of your souls.

Fill each other's cup but drink not from one cup.

Give one another of your bread but eat not from the same loaf.

Sing and dance together and be joyous, but let each one of you be alone,

Even as the strings of a lute are alone though they quiver with the same music

Give your hearts, 

But not into each other's keeping.

For only the hand of Life can contain your hearts

And stand together yet not too near together:

For the pillars of the temple stand apart,

And the oak tree and the cypress grow not in each other's shadow"

Happy Valentine's Day everyone!

P.S- And to soften the impact of my nonsensical ramblings, these are a few pictures of some flowers I got for myself to celebrate all the love and romance in the air; beautiful, hand painted, lacquer finished and on a wooden magazine stand! Now tell me, aren't these more gorgeous, more stunning, more breath-taking than any bouquet my hubby would have ever gotten me? ;)

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

A tulip by any other name!

"That which we call a rose, by any other name would smell as sweet" ~ William Shakespeare

I am firmly convinced that there are atleast two men on this planet that I know of, who share this point of view - William Shakespeare and my dear husband! 

Both in my opinion, must have barely scraped through, if not failed miserably, their high school botany!!! 

I had been down with a flu at the beginning of this new year; and feeling drained, cranky & in need for some serious cheering up, I had the urge for something expensive, totally impractical and indulgent. 

And pray, what can be more impractical and indulgent in this hot and humid Singapore weather than a bunch of tulips??? So I begged the man in my life to go buy me some! 

Now sending Vj to buy flowers is like trying to send my mom to a Vipassana session to get her to stop talking or me planning endlessly to go to the gym - in other words, an exercise in futility from the very start! 

First of all, Vj abhors buying flowers - the way he goes pale and squirms when I ask for some, I have inferred it could only be because he is severely allergic to them and that being even within visible distance of a single flower will deliver him with a fatal anaphylactic shock! 

So it took me about 2 days of non-stop whining and nagging (a few yrs of marriage is enough to make you realise hints are a total waste of time) to get him to even consider buying some. 

Secondly, like most men, Vj has difficulty navigating & finding his way in the complex labyrinth of aisles of that extremely confusing space they call supermarkets. 

So I drew a map, with detailed directions to ensure he found his way to the flower section and to prevent him from aborting the mission on the pretext of being lost! 

Finally, came my biggest challenge, dealing with Vj's maxim of "A flower is a flower is a flower"; a belief, fuelled by his complete inability to distinguish one species of flower from the other. 

Note: the only exception to this rule is Jasmine - the flower of choice for every self respecting Tamilian. The only thing more impossible than a Tamilian not recognising the Jasmine flower is a Bengali not being aware of Robi Thakur! (Rabindranath Tagore to all ye lesser mortals) 

Now coming back to reiterate our point of Vj's lack of FQ (Flower Quotient), for our 10th anniversary, he came carrying five half dead carnations (yes, not even one flower per year!) in a supermarket plastic bag!!! 

Unfortunately I'm not one of those saintly creatures, who value the thought and effort more than the result; so I got mad and asked him what on earth was he thinking getting me 5 measly flowers and that too, carnations, a flower that I heartily dislike. 

His answer? 

He believed they were roses; as per his faultless logic, all flowers that were red were roses!!!

This is a CARNATION!

I do NOT like them!

This is a ROSE.

P.S. I don't care much for these either! 

Now this itself should have discouraged me, but sometimes 3 days of flu does strange things to your brain - it sometimes makes you forget the past and fills you up with optimism which borders on fantasy.

So there I waited with bated breath, till the man who had gone with almost fool proof instructions to buy tulips, returned home, like a victorious war hero, brandishing 4 bunches of ...................... 

GERBERA DAISIES!!! 

Exasperated, annoyed and anxious to prevent History from making this habit of repeating itself, I thought why not have some broad pointers to make the next purchase even more fool proof?

1. First the basic ground rule -

Flowers are NOT a useless waste of money! 

Infact they are an extremely useful form of insurance. 

Paying regular premiums via these guarantee that the wife stays out of your hair and very kindly overlooks everything that you do to annoy her! It also prevents her from having those occasional thoughts of clobbering you on the head with a frying pan!

2. Tulips are NOT Daisies! 

Do NOT confuse species; esp if the recipient is anal enough to specify exactly what she wants! Stick to the plan! 

If in trouble ask the person at the counter for help. And yes, asking questions at a supermarket is easier than asking for directions while driving!

These are TULIPS!

And these are too!

This is NOT! This is a Gerbera Daisy! 

3. Yes, Tulips are expensive. 

And when I say expensive, I don't intend that you compare its cost to that of a tube of your toothpaste. 

4. Women do not feel very thrilled to hear you were looking for a flower that costs less than what you pay for a toothpaste! 

Infact the converse usually holds true - the more exotic and the more beautiful the flower is, the sincerer your intentions appear. 

5. Now Tulips are usually from the Netherlands and not Japan! 

Thus they are NOT available in the Japanese section of the supermarket. Do NOT go looking for them in the Japanese section of the supermarket! 

Infact no supermarket has a separate Japanese section for flowers, unless of course the supermarket is in Japan, in which case, all sections are Japanese!!! 

Well, did I miss out anything else that might be important??? 

I hope not! 

So now that the pointers are made, (maybe should get them laminated) we shall cool our heels and watch this space to see what comes next - 

A much awaited bunch of Tulips or the realisation that the husband is pointer-proof!! 

Note : For more pictures of tulips shot by me, please visit this link on FaceBook.
Pictures of the Gerbera daisy and carnations in this post are from Getty Images

The many forms of insanity

"Marathon running is another form of insanity" said John Kely, the winner of the Boston Marathon.

One day the father in law, pointing to his son, asked me "Why is he doing this?". I looked blanker than George W would have if he were asked questions on quantum physics and violently shrugged my shoulders. And then both of us started guffawing with laughter at the whole ridiculousness of the son's grand plan! The question, that kept us in splits, was why Vj, who otherwise comes across as noticeably sane, decided to suddenly run the Mumbai marathon?!! 

Even after 5yrs, I still fail to understand why one would want to put themselves through such physical torture in thoroughly hostile temperature conditions? Lets look at this rationally - we are from India for heaven's sake!!! Since birth, we have had to deal with liberal doses of dust, pollution, dirt, heat and sweat, without having to go actively hunting for them on the roads of Mumbai! So why would a sensible person leave the safety of a sanitised, air conditioned room and the comfort of a couch and venture into a territory, that unless you are masochistic or mad or both, has no attraction whatsoever?? 

Every living breathing minute of his free time, the man, hit the gym! 
"Training" he said. 
"Mid life crisis comes in many forms" I thought! 
Then I waited patiently for "this too shall pass" to happen"! It didn't!! Its been 5yrs and am still waiting!! In the meantime, we spent our weekends running, we re-arranged our holidays around marathons, we travelled to various cities to run, we made detours during holidays to run!! 

Exasperated esp with my weekends going down the drain, or in this case, down the treadmill, I tried to put an end to it in my signature high handed manner. "I don't care what you do with your free time, but it shouldn't cut into my time" I said, demanding the man go with me for movies or dinners after having completed a gruelling 36km practise run. Lets see how he balances my demands and his hobby, I grinned evilly to myself. But WTH??? The demand only seemed to have made the man's resolve stronger... after his runs, he would limp and accompany me for movies, for dinners, for lunches, for parties, and never complain about exhaustion.... making me feel like the bitch queen from hell! 

Finally after almost freezing to death in Amsterdam, while waiting for the man to finish his run, I tried a whole new approach!! "What's the point in all this" I asked, "you dont stand first or second or even reach the top 10. What's the point in participating if you cant win"?? A hard hitting psychological approach!!! There you go girl!!! Now appeal to the competitiveness in him and make him see the futility of his actions!! (Yes my bitchiness has no limits!) But even this backfired - "The act of running is to move beyond competition with others to competing with your own self .... running leads to Nirvana" or some such heavy philosophical explanation came forth! I had enough!!! At that moment, I just decided to put a stop to my efforts till a more effective idea/ opportunity struck!

So here I am, still waiting for a more brilliant "Aha!" idea to strike that shall effectively put an end to all this. In the meantime, posting a link to my insane other half's ramblings on his insane hobby!! Warning : Reading of this may, in lesser and lazier mortals like moi, cause irritation & jealousy ("show off!), disbelief (who in their right mind does this???) & teeny weeny pangs of shame and guilt!! 

http://vijayrajsblog.blogspot.com/2010/09/start-is-finsih.html

PS - Am I the only one thoroughly amused at the irony of "the man of few words" now having his very own blog!! Will the wonders never cease???

Also note - The other person in the picture is Vj's best friend Jojo, who is just holding the certificate and pretending to have run; the truth is he and I were hogging at that Iranian restaurant and then getting massages while Vj was busy running!

A Tinfull of Mush!

Its our tenth or should I say, 'Tin'th anniversary today!! Who'd have thought we'd come so far??? Certainly not those, who gave me endless gyan on how we are as different as chalk and cheese ( I being the more evolved & sinful cheese in this combo while Vj was the plain & simple chalk). And certainly not me, who lived the first year of my marriage with a packed suitcase under the bed!

Come to think about it, we are so different we could define two ends of a spectrum! 

I'd rather listen to 'O Sole Mio' while he starts his day with Oye Lucky or some such noise that's today's excuse for music! I wouldn't even be surprised if the man thinks Bocelli and Pavarotti are names of types of pasta! I spend hours fussing over the perfect decor while he takes years to notice the paintings or artefacts he has been living with! I love ordering the most exotic of dishes while he orders his standard chilli chicken, even in a sea food restaurant on the beaches of Goa! He loves to spend every free minute running/ swimming/ playing tennis while the only exercise I like is pressing buttons on my TV remote. He threw up watching my all time favourite movie, Kill Bill; while all the cricket, soccer, tennis, F1 he watches makes me nauseous!

So its nothing short of a miracle that we have come so far, together, each of us in one piece, without missing any limbs and with our sanity intact! In a rare moment whereby, engulfed by mush, I would say the credit goes mainly to the marathon runner and his love for long distance races. Hopefully this shall be a marathon that we run for many more years to come! And thanks to his need to be challenged by adverse conditions - whether it be running in the killing heat & humidity of Mumbai or the freezing winds of Amsterdam or being married to the temperamental queen from Hell, he has made this run seem like a stroll in the park :) 

So this is a once in a decade lapse into mush to acknowledge the one person who has always been there to share a laugh and a drink in the good times and be my sanity in the bad ones, who has patiently listened to all my yelling & my rantings and has had the courage to suffer my moods and my family!!! And who has been my Zen guru and has brought some semblance of calm, peace and the ability or atleast the desire to "go with the flow" into my frenzied, stressed out life.

He may not know my favourite flower or perfume, but he knows what my favourite comfort food is, and where and more importantly, when to get it! He may think flowers are a waste of money, but he is generous enough to fly my sister down from another part of the world for a vacation. He doesn't bat an eyelid when I swear or get into arguments or get sloshed or all of the above, with his friends and at his high school reunion. He may not know what Cubism or Impressionism is, but he can sit patiently for hours in a corner in a museum, waiting for me to finish my sightseeing. He can be irritating about how he is always right but that never deters him from saying sorry even when he is not at fault! And he is perfectly willing to stay up nights to tend to our two boys so I can have a good night's rest; even though he has to wake up a few hours before me and go to work & stay without sleep for days. 

So here's to the person who has taught me its our journey that's important, its you who make this journey worth the while.... and there is no one I'd rather have by my side on this journey of life, love and parenthood, than you and each day, I thank God that we are in this together.

Now as an icing on this horribly embarrassing cake of mush, I shall end with one of my all time favourite poems, by who else but the Bard himself. And I am willing to bet every last rupee I have in the bank, that the man who this beautiful verse is intended for, will not be able to comprehend even a word of this! :)

"When in disgrace with fortune and men's eyes, 

I all alone beweep my outcast state, 

And trouble deaf Heaven with my bootless cries, 

And look upon myself, and curse my fate, 

Wishing me like to one more rich in hope, 

Featur'd like him, like him with friends possess'd, 

Desiring this man's art, and that man's scope, 

With what I most enjoy contented least; 

Yet in these thoughts myself almost despising, 

Haply I think on thee, 
and then my state (Like to the lark at break of day arising from sullen earth) 

Sings hymns at heaven's gate; 

For thy sweet love remembere'd such wealth brings, 

That then I scorn to change my state with kings"
~ William Shakespeare