In Remembrance

After a very brief stint in hospital, Dada (Ro's father) passed away last week, leaving family and friends in a state of shock. He wasn't sick or bedridden. An active 68-year-old who loved to read, explore, and listen to Englebert Humperdink, he was rushed into hospital with severe chest congestion. As soon as he got to the hospital, his heart went into cardiac arrest, and he was shifted to the ICU. What followed were a series of very trying days. His heart had stopped for three minutes, and the doctors warned the family about possible brain damage. The kidneys weren't functioning properly either. Nevertheless, the family held on to every ray of hope. Prayers were said allover, and we were optimistic about his recovery. Then when he was conscious, he strengthed our faith by recognizing his family and proving the doctors wrong. He communicated with gestures, and seemed positive. Doctors were amazed at his recovery, and soon they were talking about how he'd be discharged very soon. We continued to pray. We made promises of having a huge celebration when he recovered.
Last Tuesday night, Ro called me at 3 in the morning to say that his BP dropped to 50/30. We prayed! We couldn't give up just yet. Contrary to what the doctors had feared, his brain was still alert. Now God would heal him completely. We believed He would. On Wednesday morning, the situation continued to be grim. His BP dropped further, and finally the dreaded call came. Dada was no more.
Adiv and I (with my parents) were in Bangalore then, and we took the next flight to Hyderabad. The next few days went in a daze. The funeral was the toughest, but the family pulled through. Their faith kept them going. They believed that maybe God had wanted this, though there seemed to be no logical explanation for why he'd gone so soon. They merely took solace in the fact that he hadn't suffered for too long.
His absence hit us the most in the days that followed. We wondered about how life would never be the same for his immediate family. Christmas would never be the same without his perfect lining of the cake tin with butter paper. Presents would never be the same without his skill at wrapping them. The crossword in the paper would never be filled by him again. A walker that Ro had ordered for him, would never be used by him. Ro and his sister would forever miss his quiet, strong presence.
I knew him the least, but I knew his passing would be a loss to Adiv. Adiv would never know of his intellect and simplicity. He would only hear tales of a grandfather who had all the answers, and barely remember the numerous outtings he took with him. During the funeral, I reminiced about the times I'd spent with Dada. He was a very quiet man, but we'd had a few fun conversations in the past. He didn't say a lot, but he was always very sensitive and considerate; like cheering me up with chocolates when I was the new bride, upset about leaving family to go to London.
*
A few days after the funeral, we had a beautiful memorial service for Dada. Family and friends gathered to talk about the man they all admired and loved. I got to know him so much more after this service. I wished I'd known him better. However, he'd gone, teaching us one of life's biggest lessons ; we had to appreciate every minute of what life had to offer. We could never be sure of tomorrow, so we had to live today and appreciate all those who were in our lives.
The family said their goodbyes with this very appropriate hymn..
Ever remembered
Fading away like the stars of the morning,
Losing their light in the glorious sun;
So let me steal away, gently and lovingly,
Only remembered by what I have done.

Refrain
Ever remembered, forever remembered,
Ever remembered while the years are rolling on,
Ever remembered, forever remembered,
Only remembered by what I have done.

So let my name and my place be forgotten,
Only my life-race be patiently run;
So let me pass away, peacefully, silently,
Only remembered by what I have done. Refrain

So, in the harvest, if others may gather,
Sheaves from the fields that in spring I have sown,
Who plowed or sowed matters not to the reaper -
I'm only remembered by what I have done. Refrain

Fading away like the stars of the morning,
So let my name be unhonored, unknown,
Here, or up yonder, I must be remembered,
Only remembered by what I have done. Refrain

Bottoms Up

With Ro out of town (in-laws unwell), Adiv and I found ourselves alone for a day and night, before my parents arrived. Not in the least bit apprehensive, I saw Ro off telling him we'd be just fine. So after he left, the routine went on as usual. We went to school, did some shopping, came back, took a nap, and then I decided to do some cooking. I put Adiv with his toys and made frequent trips between the kitchen and bedroom. Everything seemed okay. Adiv hadn't yet asked for Ro, and I promised him an outting after my cooking was done. Then I went to stir something on the gas. When I returned, I found Adiv on the bed with a bottle of his cold medicine. It was open, and empty! Fear tugged my heart. Had he drunk it up? I found a lot poured on the bedspread, but I still wasn't sure if he'd had any. If he had, how much? How did he get the bottle that I thought was far away from his reach? What do I do?
Calming down for a second, I decided to call a pediatrician who is available on the phone. He barked instructions on the phone. "Get him to throw up. Give him salt water, put your finger in, and tickle his throat. I ran to the kitchen, got some warm salt water and tried to get him to drink it. "No", he screamed angrily. Then I put my hand in to get him to puke. He resisted by biting my finger. I continued to try. After a few failed attempts, I called the doctor again. This time he was annoyed.
"How can you give up? What kind of mother are you? If he doesn't throw up, he has to go to the doctor and get his stomach flushed."
By now, I was in tears. I was scared, and someone screaming at me didn't help. I made more attempts to get Adiv to throw up. No luck. We both cried. I was scared and he was angry.
Wondering what I should do next, I called an aunt who I knew would understand the state I was in, and act calmly and quickly. She came immediately, and said we'd just have to observe Adiv. She'd spoken to some doctor friends and they said if he wasn't unsually drowsy, he'd be fine. Afterall it was only baby's medicine. It couldn't be dangerous. However if he was drowsy and not his usual self, we'd have to rush him to hospital. Adiv by then was running around and playing. When my aunt arrived, he welcomed her with a smile and showed her new additions to the house since her last visit.
"Sinx", he said pointing to a teeny Sphinx that his grand uncle brought us all the way from Egypt.
Then he flaunted his helmet, his riding skills, and eventually begged for some crisps.
"He seems perfectly okay", my aunt assured me.
I was also quite sure that he was okay. However, we'd have to watch. In the meantime the floodgates were let open. I wept; mostly because I was relieved. I prayed he'd continue to be fine. "Let it all out", said my aunt. "You'll feel better."
Meanwhile Adiv cycled from room to room.
Then my aunt suggested I go stay at her place. I agreed immediately. I had to return the next morning before the maid arrived, so I took my car. Adiv was buckled up in the car seat, and we drove to my aunt's house. When we got there, Adiv was welcomed to the sight of all my aunt's grandson's toys. He loved his car, the talking Elmo, a teddy bear as big as him, and the lawn to run on. He explored, played, ate his dinner, and eventually slept tired. The day had ended on a happy note. He was happy, and we were quite sure he hadn't drunk any of the medicine. I was exhausted from all the worrying. Nevertheless, I was happy. I made a mental note of all that I'd have to lock away with a key; medicines, harpic, washing liquid....!I had to now prepare for this curious toddler, who would explore and try to get his hands on anything and everything. For now I was just glad that he was okay. I made my last call to Rohit who had been quite worried. Then I lay down thanking God for watching over little Adiv.

The toughest part of motherhood is letting go! Nevertheless, feigning some courage, I drove Adiv to school today. He was happy. He ran in smiling looking for aunty, little knowing that I'd been asked to wait outside.
"He is friendly. He'll be fine. And he loves the teacher", the principal assured me.
They asked me to return at 1, but I decided to hang around outside. Apprehensive, I walked to the car, tried reading a book, sent Ro nervous sms messages, and kept checking the time. Half an hour later, I decided to peek in. I knocked at the door. The minute it was opened, I heard his voice.
"Mimiiii..Dadaaaaa..", he wailed.
I rushed in, and picked him up! The teacher wasn't very pleased. She argued that if i kept coming in, he'd never get over this fear.
I argued the whole point of this toddler program was that the parent would be allowed to sit in. She pointed to the older kids, some happy, some weepy. I pointed to Adiv and reminded her that they were a lot older than he was.
*
Ro and I share similar views on schooling. I'd chosen to be a stay-at-home mom, so I'd be around for him. Unlike a lot of working parents who had little choice, Adiv didn't need to be booted off to school early. Some argue that these kids cry and eventually get over it. I argue, why put him in school early and upset him. Adiv has always been a friendly happy child, and we weren't over-ambitious parents who wanted him to start school earlier than necessary. However, when I heard about the toddler program, I thought it would be fun. They'd let me sit in, and he'd get to interact with other kids and develop some social skills.
The first two days were good. He seemed to like his teacher, and was having fun in the confines of a room with a teacher, an aayah, the pink toddler, and me. Today when I peeked inside, the scenario was quite different. I found the room filled with older kids. The pink toddler sat on the aayah's lap with a toy, the teacher was busy with the older kids, and Adiv was stuck to the door crying. I was livid. Ofcourse it broke my heart seeing him weep. Nevertheless, I was angry that they had put him with the older kids who were learning alphabets. They tried explaining it to me by saying he was smart and therefore ready for an older class. I told them quite clearly that I wanted him to have fun with kids his age. I didn't want him in a class with older kids, feeling lost and lonely. I wanted him to learn in his own pace. I wasn't going to force any ambition on him.
I'm not sure they got the point, but I walked out with him. I said I'd return the next day and sit in with him till he got comfortable there.
Adiv cried himself to sleep in his car seat. I drove back worried! Adiv is a happy, intelligent young boy, and I didn't want anything to scare him. Tomorrow is a day I'm dreading, but I have to make my point clear just once more. Unlike a lot of parents who were preparing toddlers for a rat race, Ro and I are quite content just letting him do things at his own pace. For now I merely want him to play, make new friends, and learn something. I don't want a baby sitter for 2 hours.
Praying tomorrow is a better day for us both!

First day at school

Armed with a bag carrying some water, my wallet, a book (in case of free time), and a snack, I walked past the school gates. Like all newcomers, I was a wee bit apprehensive, but very eager to make new friends. The teacher who was seeing off the previous batch of students, smiled and ushered us into a room filled with cars, balls, hand puppets, and several montessori kits. Adiv's first day began well.
Unlike a lot of preschoolers who were weeping piteously, the toddlers were allowed to bring in their mommies. So I sat down gingerly on one small chair, praying I'd not break it. Adiv chose a green chair for himself, before climbing off to examine the cars and the little animals. Picking one he proudly announced, "Car"! When that generated some clapping, he picked a cow and said very emphatically, "cow"! Then he went on to identify the "Bow wow", the "meow", and the "deer" (Deeya), before diverting his attention to the differently sized cars.
"Vrooooom vrooooom", the car rushed across the floor.
"Big car..there..door", he bragged to the indulgent teacher.
By then he'd decided he liked his teacher. He wasn't sure what he could call her. Since she was wearing trousers and a short top, he went with "Chichi" (chechi).
"I'm aunty", she said. So after that, he was his aunty's tail. He flaunted his language skills, opened and closed doors for her, and flashed her some endearing smiles.
The only other toddler present was a younger girl in pink. A true gentleman, Adiv showed her all the toys. "Babeee...take", he said offering her all her toys. Inbetween he looked to us for signs of approval. The teacher and I clapped, and he got even more generous. This lasted till the aayah brought out a rocking elephant.
"Ingyaaa" (his word for elephant) he screamed, hurrying to climb on to it.
"Baby's turn first", said the teacher. "Adiv, you'll get your turn."
He waited patiently, pointing to the elephant's eyes saying, "aaayee".
"eeyaa" (ears).
Soon he'd lost all his patience. "Auntee..turn", he enquired. The teacher smiled and let him have his turn. After that all chivalry was dead. He refused to budge, and the pink toddler had to be distracted with other knick knacks.
Eventually he lost interest and settled for some basketball. Everytime he missed the basket, he'd scream, "Oh noooo." Two minutes of that, and then his attention was on the handpuppets (owls).
"Auntee..owww", he said.
"Very good Adiv. Did you see the owl in the zoo?"
"Zoozoo...aaaaah", he said grinning reminicing about the zoozoo ads he loves watching on youtube.
Then the montessori kits were brought out. After stacking a few circles one on top of the other, he lost interest again. The pink toddler sat patiently with it.
During snack time I brought out neatly cut apples. They'd browned a bit, so he said, "darty" and took one. The pink toddler began begging for some. I asked the teacher if I could give her an apple, but she said they didn't encourage sharing between toddlers because different kids were allowed different things to eat.
"Get her snack", the teacher said. The pink toddler's mother had packed cream biscuits for her. Adiv immediately threw away his apple and began eyeing the cream biscuits.
"No bikkis now", i said. . Luckily, it was time to leave. The promise of leaving by car distracted Adiv who was "vrooooooming" again. He blew kisses at everyone, said elaborate byes (bey bey) and we left!
So his first day was very satisfying! He enjoyed himself, and now I'm getting ready for day two. Maybe I'll take two biscuits (just in case)...and some fruit!:)

10 Honest Things About Me

Thankyou Abhilasha for my first online badge. I'm rather kicked about it.
Anyway without wasting much time, I'll get to the 10 most honest things about me!

• My life revolves around Adiv. We do a lot together. If we aren't playing games, I draw him images that vaguely resemble cows, television sets, elephants, cats, and cars. We go out together, read together, sing all Elmo's songs together, and fight battles during meal time.
• I cry easily. Funerals and unpleasant events make me sad, but I even cry when I'm angry.
• I can't draw or dance, but I do both to entertain Adiv. I might even dance in discos when everyone is either too drunk too laugh, or too blinded by the lights to notice.
• I trained as a carnatic singer for 8 years. Now I only sing at home, all day long, for Adiv.
• I consider "Gone with the Wind", the most romantic novel ever!
• I don't get friendly very easily, and I'm told I exude a certain reserve that is often misunderstood for snobbishness. However, once the ice is broken, i'm told i'm quite the opposite.
• I hope to write a book one day; the plot and characters are alive in my head. Now i have to put them on paper.
• I'm Josh Groban's biggest fan. I wish he'd come perform in India.
• I like writing lists. Lists give me a sense of order and direction, though I might not always complete my "To-do" lists.
• Family comes first, and i'd be lost without them. Being torn away from family never to return to them or find them again is my ultimate nightmare. That is probably why I empathised with Kunta Kinte (Roots) as much as I did.

Others tagged with the honesty badge:

Scatterbrain

MadMallu

OfMountainsandStreams

Rants and Ramble

Anyone else who wants the badge:)

Visiting the stiff and swanky

House visits are fun (sometimes embarassing) when you take Adiv. Usually it is the very indulgent family. They bring out forgotten toys and books, play music and dance along, and often grant him the permission to play with the cushions. With strangers I'm more guarded. For fear of having him destroy expensive breakables, I trail him (something I do even when we visit family) and make futile attempts at distracting him with toys I've packed in my bag. He is rarely interested, as the prospect of exploring a new home seems far more fun.
Recently, when a cousin was in town, we decided to visit family we hadn't seen in ages. So we told an aunt that we'd come by, but before that we'd decided to visit my cousin's old boss.
Living in an expensive block of apartments, Mr Boss, Mrs Boss and their kids had recently moved to Bangalore, after a long stint in Mumbai. Mr Boss was my cousin's first boss, and they'd kept in touch over the years, eventually graduating from colleagues to friends.
"He is a nice, though quiet man", said my cousin. He however warned us about his wife. When he started work, he was the only one who mustered enough courage to talk to her. The rest of the office was terrified of her. No, she wasn't the typical Mrs Boss. She was just very intelligent, opinionated, and reserved. Her reserve gave her an air of snobbishness that made her a wee bit intimidating.

When we reached their apartment complex, our simple santro was stopped at the gate, while the bigger cars whizzed past the gates. Laughing, and telling ourselves we needed the exercise anyway, we walked past the gates after signing in. We found their building, and took the lift to the 6th floor. Then we stood outside the door, rang the bell, and waited. Mr Boss opened the door, looking mighty pleased to see my cousin. (He was surprised to see us though!). He moved aside to let us in, and we spotted Mrs Boss behind him. She gave us forced smiles, thawing a bit on spotting my cousin behind us. He walked in comfortably, chatting and asking about their kids. Meanwhile Mrs Boss guided us to their designer furniture. Some polite conversation later, she stood up to get us some eats. Perhaps to break the ice, or maybe quell the growing awkwardness, Mr Boss made a strange suggestion.
"Want to see our house?"
Not knowing how to respond, we agreed, following him slowly. Mrs Boss threw him a perplexed, slightly annoyed look when she saw us wander in. Oblivious to her apparent displeasure, Mr Boss continued giving us the tour. We went from room to room, even surprising their people-shy sons who were each locked up in their rooms. Mr Boss even urged us to enter their rooms and take a look at the wood work, the balconies, the design.....!Meanwhile Adiv was running wild, exploring every nook, paying a lot of attention to the cupboards and keys that were within his reach. When I saw him climbing one of the beds, I carried him away with promises of trips in the car, icecream after dinner, and cookies in both hands. The tour ended in the balcony that overlooked a crowded, popular mall on one side, and a busy street on the other.

The eats arrived. Adiv was given a biscuit, and the rest of us sipped some juice. The conversation now centered on real estate. Not even remotely interested, Adiv chose this moment to get off Ro's lap and run. Worried he'd take (or worse break) something, I ran behind him. I gave Mrs Boss an apologetic look as I ran behind Adiv. Mr Boss assured me that they'd been through this stage. Mrs Boss was quiet. I smiled and rushed in, only to find Adiv make himself comfortable. His shoes had come off, and he'd climbed on the bed. He had even pulled out a pillow from underneath the bedspread. Shocked, I rushed forward, muttered a few threats, made the bed, and carried him back into the living room. Luckily, by then, everyone was ready to leave. An ecstatic Adiv, screamed "Car" and rushed to the door. Very sweetly he waved at everyone. Mr and Mrs Boss chose to come down with us. Mr Boss wanted to give us a tour of their complex.
"We have two pools, one indoors and one outdoors."
"We have an inhouse library and beauty parlour."
"Tennis courts."
"No badminton court", I wondered amused! We had that, in addition to a pool that we barely used now.
We feigned interest by making appropriate sounds, and hoped the tour would end. It ended eventually with a tour of the garden. Adiv ran around happily, and by then even Mrs Boss had warmed up to him. She smiled, and asked questions about him. She even waved at him with equal enthusiasm when we left. Adiv was happy in the car. He enjoyed his outing, and meeting new people. He hadn't been naughty either, except for wanting to wander around in their house. Nevertheless, we came away deciding we'd stick to family, friends, and baby-friendly homes, till Adiv got older and less curious about new surroundings.
Tomorrow we go to the Zoo!

Oh Maid Where art thou!

My trysts with the maid continue!
First there was an opinionated chatterbox who frequently absented herself from work. Then there was the well-dressed beautician-turned-cook who knew no cooking. Inbetween were two sisters and their mother who came in turns. The first sister left for greener pastures (baby aayah for a few hours that pay the big bucks), and left her sister as her replacement. The sister, a cheerful lil thing who seemed to quite good and willing. Her husband played fiend, refusing to go to work. So she eventually decided to stay home as a means of forcing him to go to work. Her mother came in her place. The mother came with a pretty high opinion of herself. "I'm the best in this locality", she announced proudly! She happily agreed to do all that I asked her to do. However, when I wasn't looking she'd miss out a few of her chores. On reminding her, she'd say, "Oh, old lady na, I forgot." The biggest problem wasn't that. She refused to get on with Adiv. This 60-something year old and Adiv would fight every single day. They'd scream at eachother, and each fight would end with her threatening to cut off his tongue. That was reason enough for me to say Bye to her. Meanwhile I'd found myself a fancy looking cook. The watchman brought her proudly.
"Madam, my wife, accha kaam kar legi."
I'd just woken up from my afternoon nap. Bleary-eyed and still dressed in my night clothes that now bore stains of Adiv's lunch, I looked at a diffident girl. She was dressed in jeans and a short top. She even wore a lot of make-up. I wondered if I'd heard right. Maybe she was one of the new tenants in the building?
"Huh?"
"New cook madam."
"Oh", I said hoping she hadn't noticed my dishevelled look. After a conversation that I barely remember, I asked her to start the next day. She came with a confession.
"I don't know how to cook madam. But I can learn."
She didn't learn much, but she was pleasant and she came armed with a sob story. So I kept her for a month before deciding to send her off! There was no point having a cook who couldn't cook.
Then my luck changed. A matronly, kind, pleasant woman came knocking at my door. She was clean and gentle, and she said she could cook and do everything. I was secretly ecstatic. She started immediately, and she was good. Her food was tasty, and her work meticulous. I was quiet about how good she was, for fear of having my neighbours pinch her away. In the mean time I attempted to keep her happy by giving her baby food for her grandchild, cutlets for her family, and lunch on days when she had extra work. When guests came, I cut vegetables for her and did much of the cooking. I liked the woman and I didn't want her to leave. I was paying her good money and I was a kind boss. She wouldn't want to miss that.
However, I was quite mistaken. Yesterday, she said she wanted to stop. Without maintaining any eye contact, she first made excuses about the amount of work there was. Then she said she had a back problem. I didn't hear much after that. I only heard, "give me my money, and i'll leave." Angry, I said i'd give her her money only on the 1st. She agreed, finished up her work and left. While she was there, I hoped I'd acted dignified. I didn't say much or beg for her to stay. But I wondered why she'd left. Maybe someone was paying her more as a nurse or baby aayah? I didn't believe her back was hurting. Once she left, I let the flood gates open. I wept more out of self pity. How would I manage with a baby? Would I get another maid?
A few maids came by to enquire almost immediately. Sensing my desperation for help, they asked for huge sums of money. One woman said that she wanted 500Rs only to put out the clothes from the washing machine. I politely sent her off!

Since then, I've cried a few more times. I've shouted at Adiv who smeared quite a bit of peanut butter on his head. I've fought with Rohit just because I wanted to cry and feel better. However now I sit at my computer feeling rather peaceful. The house is clean, the clothes have been washed and put out to dry, the food has been cooked, and the vessels have been washed. To make things better Adiv ate his dinner without much trouble. Things are definitely not that bad.
Now for some prayers! "Dear God, please bring me a maid."