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."

Finding Myself

With hands firmly on the steering wheel, and eyes following the traffic on all sides, I'm mildly aware of the music playing in the background. Yet another friendly RJ announces the contest for the evening, luring in listeners with the promise of goody bags filled with CDs, caps, and t-shirts. I often know the answers, and I honestly wouldn't have minded an autographed CD or two. Nonetheless, I refrain to getting to my phone that lies nestled between my notebook and Bible. I'm already late, and with this crawling traffic, i wonder if i'll ever get to church on time.
*
My decision to attend BSF (Bible Study Fellowship) classes came suddenly. Motherhood though extremly rewarding, was often tiring. I knew all the songs that Elmo sang, and the rhymes on every page of Adiv's books. However, I craved for some "me" time outside the house. I began this endeavour with weekly outtings to buy groceries. I'd even extend these shopping trips to a few minutes of quiet browsing at the book store in the mall. I'd often return with a book, or a movie that we'd then enjoy later in the evening.
Then I got greedy. Now I wanted to meet people; not family we ran into so often, but new faces. Friends from the distant past seemed too busy with lives that didn't involve kids, and I'd forgotten the art of making new friends. Almost suddenly, a thought popped into my head; "BSF"!

My mom had been going for these BSF classes for over a year. I'd seen her extensive notes, and I know she enjoyed her discussions there. She'd even made some friends there. So maybe I needed to get there as well. I hoped I'd get to socialize a bit, and more importantly, learn about the Bible.
I went to their website, wrote to the coordinator for Bangalore, and she got in touch almost immediately. "Come on a tuesday", said her friendly e-mail. "We'd love to have you there."
After a few weeks of postponing, I eventually got around to going there. I got myself a driver, and a map. The church in which these sessions were being conducted was far away, and with the traffic in the evening, it would take me atleast an hour or two to get there.
As soon as I got there, I was welcomed in by the friendliest people. They gave me a tag with my name, and directed me to the pews. Groups of friendly women chatted around in hushed tones. Some sat quietly finishing their homework. I was happy! Smiling, I found myself a seat.
The session began with two hymns, after which the group discussions began. I was asked to meet the teaching leader with two other newcomers. The teaching leader explained the idealogies of BSF, and how we'd learn the Bible in 7 years. We filled up registration forms and went back to our places. It was another week before we found ourselves in groups as well. The other newcomer used this time to give me her testimony. A hindu from a traditional household, she'd come to Christ after the conception of her miracle baby. By the time her story ended, the groups returned from their discussions and settled down for the lecture. The teaching leader then began her inspirational, thought provoking lecture for the day.
At the end of that day, I knew coming here had been the right thing to do. After that I got back each week with extended narratives on what I'd learnt that day. I could relate to most of the lectures. Once it was about keeping the soul clean by getting rid of hatred and resentment. Another time it was about forgiveness. Once she even spoke about how we all had our assigned duties in this world. So we just had to perform our tasks well, instead of focussing on the tasks (and successes) of others. We just had to compete with ourselves and fulfil our tasks. This particularly made sense as I'd spent a lot of time envying those who'd done a lot better professionally. I was a happy stay-at-home mom, but I missed the deadlines, the impromptu meetings, and the promotions. But as the teaching leader reminded me, despite all that I was envying, I'd never trade them for what I had, because I valued what I had more than anything else.
The BSF lessons were about re-evaluating my own life. Through God's word, I was just given gentle reminders about what was truly important.

Now I'm part of a group that isn't the most enthusiastic. I have a group leader who is rarely available. When she is around, she barely gives us food for thought. The questions are answered in hurried succession. Nonetheless, I continue to enjoy the lectures, taking back lessons from them. I even enjoy my homework, that is often completed with help with Ro and our discussions. Now I'm waiting for Adiv to turn 2, so he can also start BSF classes for toddlers. Meanwhile Ro is waiting for me to finish my 7 years of BSF, so he can start his!
And......I'm still trying to make new friends!

Pigs Fly, Swine Flu

Between diaper changes, hour-long feeds, and general housekeeping, I barely have the time to read the newspaper, let alone obssess about what's in it. So, i've been largely oblivious to the growing swine flu paranoia. Adiv and I went on our weekly trips to the farm, and I had my Bible class. Everyone I knew was well, and I had little reason to be apprehensive. Then suddenly, the death of a 4-year-old in Chennai caught my attention. Not very far from home, this little boy had succumbed to the H1N1 virus, and that news story planted the seed of fear in my heart. I began reading the newspaper, empathising with every victim, reading about their symptoms, and the ordeal they underwent. I tried memorizing names of hospitals we could go to, if we needed to get checked. Nevertheless, I prayed and hoped we'd never have to fight crowds for a single lifesaving dose of Tamiflu.

This paranoia grew quickly. The next day, I read about a 26-year-old school teacher who'd just been telling her students about the precautions they should take. After a brief battle, she'd passed away. Newspapers carried pictures of the victim, making this news story even more personal. I wondered about her children, her family, and how her death could have been prevented.

Then it got worse. We all had the sniffles. Adiv had fever for a day, and soon he was coughing. I started a low grade fever that was quelled with strong doses of Dolo 650. Then Pappa got very ill. He had high fever, a terrible cough and cold. When the crocin didn't help, he was taken to the doctor. Masked and ultra cautious, the doctor wrote him a few antibiotics and sent him back. The fever vanished almost immediately, only to return a day later. Then the paranoid doctor suggested that we get him tested for swine flu. Muttering prayers, and hoping for the best, he was the taken to Manipal hospital. There the doctor wasn't even remotely worried. He listened to his symptoms and sent him back saying he needed to finish his dose of medicines.
I spent the next few hours checking everyone's temperature in turns. Luckily, now everyone is well, and i'm making sure everyone washes their hands when they return from outside. We're being cautious as well, with limited trips to crowded places. Everyone is eating pods of garlic and cloves as a precaution, and the maid is being questioned repeatedly about her health.
This paranoia is probably here to stay for mothers of infants, but for the moment, i'm glad we are all fine.

Cruel Kids

Children are fun! With innocence so endearing, and their incessant chatter so amusing, they play the most innovative of games. Armed with an active imagination, and an insatiable need to play and entertain, they amuse all those around them. Between themselves they fight, make up, and play more games, but on the whole they are a species willing to learn and explore. However, despite being a fascinating lot, if unchecked, they are the most cruel of all species. At a party recently, I witnessed just that.

*

Adiv loves most kids, though he has a definite preference for older boys who appear cooler because of the games they play. However, if shown the slightest interest, he will do all that is needed to befriend them. However, being the youngest in both our families, he is used to a lot of pampering. His older cousins are very indulgent with him, giving him their toys, entertaining him with their antics, and amusing him with music and dance sessions. So Rohit and I felt he needed to interact with other kids as well; kids who'd not be as patient or generous as the kids he was used to. So I began these weekly trips to a nearby farm for a mother and toddler program, where he'd get to interact with other kids and a whole lot of farm animals.

Then another opportunity came by, when we were invited to a birthday party. As the party was in an uncle's house, we got there early under the pretext of helping. But Adiv was busy trying on all their shoes, and I was busy trailing him. In time the other kids and their mommies began arriving. Initially the kids were all fascinated by eachother. The ones who knew eachother formed groups, and smiled at the others. Then they wandered into the bedroom and began strumming on a guitar. Adiv wasn't too pleased. He trying to push the other kids away, and when they refused to budge, took refuge in some loud, angry crying. I distracted him with other toys, and the promise of a trip on a bike. He wanted to play with the kids, but he still wasn't used to kids who weren't giving in. I tried explaining that he needed to share the guitar. I told the older kids that he was only one-and-a-half, and so they needed to show him how to use the guitar and play. They didn't seem too keen on playing with him. So they ran away, and he ran behind them laughing. He followed them tirelessly, while they tried to avoid him. One little girl who wasn't in their circle, sat quietly on a table, wearing a sad, solemn face. The kids who'd formed a gang, danced around her calling her names.

"Hey, she looks like a sadhu yaa."

"No she looks a like a donkey na?"

The girl looked down, ignoring all their taunts. Adiv stood next to her, examining her bangles. "Very pretty bangles", I told her, evoking a smile in response. "Ma got it", she said. She smiled at Adiv gently, and looked up at the other kids who were screaming "Monster Monster", at Adiv. Adiv thought it was fun game and ran behind them. They tried pushing him away, but I was trailing him making sure they didn't hurt him. They screamed and yelled, and eventually began a shower of insults.

"Oh no, the stupid boy is back."

"Little boy, you are such an idiot."

I was stunned. None of the children I knew were so cruel. They were attacking a little child who was trying to join in in their games. He was smiling at them and running behind them, and they were calling him names.

*

I came away that evening in a state of shock. None of the kids we knew in the family ever spoke so badly. They fought like all kids, but never called eachother names. I'd never seen them bully the quieter kids. When they had birthdays, they made sure all their guests were cared for. I had to make sure Adiv was like them. I wasn't going to allow bad language or bullying, but I'd have to encourage concern and friendship. I'd have to let him know that there was nothing cool about using bad language.

I realized suddenly that i was soon approaching a phase when i'd have to explain right from wrong. I'd have to set examples at home, applaud all goodness, and discourage all wrong doing. The little one was growing up and he needed the right lessons to grow in to a sensitive, considerate, smart, intelligent young man.

In the mean time, I'd also have to reconcile to the fact that not everyone was going to be good to my child.

The end of one chapter

His death didn't come as a shock. He'd been ill for a long time, and this time it didn't seem like he was going to bounce back. Nevertheless, the family was optimistic. His swelling had gone down, and he'd begun eating. His only demand was, "I want to go home". After days, even the doctors relented. The nurses were pleased their gentle patient was finally on the mend. On Saturday night, he was coaxed into eating dinner amidst promises of going home on Monday. He even ate a slice of his grand daughter's birthday cake before going to bed. The family went home for a peaceful night's sleep. He was definitely better and coming home. Perhaps he'd live to a 112 like a relative of his? At 3 in the morning, he woke up thirsty, drank a glass of water, lay down and died. He didn't suffer.
*
Despite being prepared, everyone was shocked. I sat back and thought about him over the years. I met a much younger version of himself on the day when his son married my cousin. I was their flower girl, who followed them around till someone suggested I go and eat with the rest of the family. Then I saw him again over the years in either of our houses. He came over often with my cousin and her family, and theirs was the only house I felt comfortable enough to visit. He was friendly, hospitable, and the happiest if you sat down with him to watch a movie. He went on long walks every morning, and spent his sunday mornings in church. He loved a banana after each meal, and an egg with breakfast every day. At 4 he'd amble around asking for tea, and wait patiently if his daughter-in-law was resting. He pampered his grandchildren and looked upon his daughter-in-law as a daughter. A man with no formalities, he'd eat everything, sleep anywhere, and enjoy every trip he made. He liked going for weddings, meeting up with his friends, and he always looked a little sad when people left after a holiday. "Come again", he'd said. "I will also come". If not for him, I doubt if i'd have been half as comfortable going there as often as I did.
*
The funeral was in Coorg, as he wanted to be buried next to his wife. The family was coping well, though they'd all miss him terribly. We drove down from Bangalore to Mysore, where he had lived with his son, daughter-in-law and granddaughters. We checked into a hotel because the house would have been too crowded. However, even though we'd reached late, we decided to go to the house. At 11 in the night, we went there. He looked peaceful and fast asleep. Atleast the end hadn't been painful. The family was in different rooms, preparing for the funeral the next morning. Adiv was curious about why a man was lying inside a box. When he was taken closer, it scared him. After that he busied himself with a few helmets and games with the children in the house. He entertained everyone, and by 1 we decided to head back.
*
The funeral went off well. Despite the rains off and on, it didn't interfere with the burial. We spent part of it in the car, feeding Adiv who was quite restless. He wanted to run around, and we were holding on to him for fear of having him fall into all that slush.
After the burial, we drank some coffee, and drove to a nearby estate where lunch had been organized for everyone. We hadn't seen as much greenary in a long time. Lunch was well organized and in such a beautiful location. The lovely house lay nestled beside a pretty lake. And to get to this pretty house, you had to follow a driveway surrounded by tall green trees and reach their well manicured lawn and garden. The dogs barked furiously at being denied the excitement of having so many people over. We went to look at them, locked up in their cages.
After lunch, we said our goodbyes and drove back to Mysore. His family wept for him, but also shared amusing stories about him amidst smiles and laughter. It had been a beautiful end to that gentle soul.
As people who weren't related to him directly, we also sat around talking about him. We came away the next morning. With Adiv sleeping peacefully on my lap, I wondered if Adiv had been affected by this undeniable fact of life.

One Morning in a Farm

Adiv's first trip to the farm was more fun than I'd anticipated. I was a wee bit apprehensive before we got there. I woke him up early for milk (so he'd poop and be done with it before we set out), and muttered hurried prayers while I got his food ready.

"Jesus, please let him be well behaved. Spare us the embarassing tantrums."

On the way to the farm, he fell asleep. Once we got there, he seemed to enjoy all the greenary, the distant barking of dogs, and Gerry's friendly welcome. We were directed to an open, cemented shed, where Gerry's wife Yamini sat mixing paints and getting the art projects ready. Meanwhile, after exchanging pleasantries, we busied ourselves with the toys arranged on the table. The other kids and mommies began arriving, and soon everyone was talking and playing. Initially Adiv wasn't so sure he wanted to share all those toys with the other kids, but eventually he got called for his art work. He sat on a little chair next to Yamini, and splashed paint on a piece of chart paper. He then gleefully dipped his fingers in paint, before giving his first masterpiece its final touches. He got off rather grudgingly, as the next child was waiting his turn. I distracted him with more blocks, while the other kids finished their paintings. Then, it was time to meet the animals. We first met and fed the geese. Adiv didn't seem even remotely scared. He ran towards them, while I tried to restrain him. Then it was time for the donkeys. Each child was given carrots to feed the donkeys. Adiv got his turn and enjoyed it. He even went searching for other carrots that he could feed the donkeys. He seemed to love Oscar, a friendly donkey who runs around, popping in every now and then for a pat or a tickle on the nose.

From there we went to the rabbits. They were fed carrots and beans. At one point, Adiv seemed to forcefeeding a rabbit who already had carrot in its mouth. I carried him out, and led him to the pig sty; a messy sight with two enormous pigs lounging in its midst. Between them, we spotted teeny piglets who were just two days old. Adiv was fascinated! On the way to the pig sty, we'd even felt the pregnant belly of a gentle cow. "Moo Moo" said Adiv, as he rubbed her patient belly.

After this enriching experience, the kids were led back into the play area, for their snack. Adiv gorged on the biscuits and watermelon, while I ate some of the delicious apple crumb cake that was served. The kids were given hot chocolate, while we mommies got tea or coffee. After our snack, it was time to pot a lily plant. A huge pot had to be filled with sand first, and the kids obliged only too happily, with little spades. Adiv merely dug into the pot with his little yellow spade. Then they used mugs to fill it up with water. Then Gerry planted the lily. The kids were then allowed to throw in fish and tadpoles. Adiv held on to his little fish for a few seconds with surprising gentleness. "Chisshh", he whispered in awe.

At the end of this activity, the kids were all tired and dirty. So we decided to part, amidst promises of returning every week for more. As we wandered out, we made one more stop. The huge netted trampoline beckoned to the kids. They enjoyed it, and Adiv seemed ecstatic, jumping on it. He laughed and ran in circles, falling, getting up, and jumping again. He was having so much fun, he didn't want to return. He was dragged back into the car, where he fell asleep almost immediately.

Thus ended our first Tuesday at Gerry's farm. Both Adiv and I look forward to more Tuesdays at the farm.

Pictures will follow later!