Month: April 2013

In conversation with..


We went to Grand Canyon, remember? What did you see there?
– Snow, lots of snow! And I got MnMs. I asked for it and Mumma said we have to pay for it first. Then I got little MnMs every day and saved the rest for the next day.


When you grow up and are as tall as Mumma, will you share your dresses with me?
– No!
– Because you will be as tall as the celling by then, so my clothes will not fit you. I will share mine with Bugz.


You can’t wear that dress today, it is too cold out.
– When we go to Hawaii can I wear a dress?
– Everyday?
– Then why are we not going to Hawaii?


– Mumma, who got me that blue dress?
P Akka, baby.
– Do you miss her?
Yes, I do.
– Why?
Because she is my friend.
– We ate ice-cream when she came!


– Why can’t I wear my sparkly shoes? (Sparkly jootis from India which are super flimsy)
Because you will tear them.
– Why will they become broke Mumma? (Broke is the only tense she knows and everything borkes.)
Because they are not meant to run around in.
– Because we bought them in India?
– Did we pay a lot of money for them?
No. (wondering where she is going with this)
– That is why they broke. This weekend buy me new sparkly shoes from here and pay a lot of money for them, OK?


What is your favorite color?
– Pink and purple and sparkly and shiny and rainbow.
What is your favorite store?
– India store, because they have free lollypop there.
Which is your favorite house?
– Open house.


– Can we touch the sun, Mumma?
– Why?
Because it is very hot. If we get close to it, we will burn.
– Then we will go to Bhagwaanji?
Yes, yes we will.
– Can we touch the clouds?
Yes, airplanes fly through them all the time.
-Nooooo! Can we touch them?
Sometimes! When we are on a high mountain, sometimes the clouds also come down and we get surrounded in them. We can touch them then.
– Can we touch a rainbow?
– Why?


Things she things of, the questions she asks, the associations she makes leave me speechless every single day!

Coming true already


The first time I ever actively thought about blogging was when D said he wanted to create a blog and capture all our various trips in it. Don’t really remember my reaction but I do remember D creating a blog on ‘Blogspot’ writing about his trip up one of the mountains here. The blog was never opened after that first post and is long forgotten now.

A few months after, a friend started her blog and shared a link with all of us. She used to update her blog regularly and I would go read what she wrote. That was my first true brush with anything blogging. I started blog hopping soon after and found quite a few blogs that held my interest.

The first time I actively thought about blogging myself was when Buzz was in her cute stage and I wanted to capture her little actions for years to come. One night, after Buzz was asleep, I opened ‘WordPress’, tried a few log ins, one worked and my blog was born.

D knew when I started the blog, but never really asked about it. He never asked for the URL, I never gave it to him. Once randomly he asked me about my blog and said ‘kuch padha’*. I opened one post, he read, passed some comments, we laughed and that was it.

I, inherently, am a very private person. Writing a public blog is a huge deal for me. The mask of semi-anonymity helps me break some of my barriers and write what I do. In real life post having Buzz and then Bugz, life became super busy and suddenly there seemed like I had no time to myself. My personal space, my time, my very own thoughts.. there was no place to just be. The kids took over everything. My blog became the one place which was just mine. I own it, I control it, I just am. The fact that D does not read it, gives me the much needed space I need at this point in my life. I guess, that I never ask him to read anything I write speaks about how closely I guard my blog and that he never asks too many details except for an occasional, ‘I feel like reading something’, shows the way he respects my space.


D and I were talking about some milestone for Bugz and that should she not have met it by now. Which automatically got us to, ‘was Buzz at this milestone when she was this old?’ While I was trying to wrack my brains trying to remember, D said:

Go check your blog. I am sure it is there somewhere.

Not a huge deal but it brought an instant smile to my face. The main thought behind why my blog exists today is coming true already. When the kids grow up and ask for it, hopefully they will have a smile on their faces as they read along.


*Let me read something.

Weekday evenings

The garage door opens and at the sound of it, two heads lift up. Everything is dropped, as with huge smiles on their faces, they both run in different directions.

D calls out:

Aa gaya tu? (You came?)

Ecstatic Bugz chimes in with a:

Papa Papa Papa!

as she raises both her hands to be picked up.

Bugz in his hands, he turns the corner asking her:

Didi kahaan hei? Dikh nahien rahi? (Where is Didi? Can’t see her?)

Giggles are heard from some corner of the house giving out the location of the hiding Buzz. Alas hard of hearing Paa-daughter duo go about looking all over the house with no success, till they literally stumble upon her.

Hugs, kisses, laughs, long explanations follow. Socks, jacket are discarded in their designated spots and hands are washed. After which they all move on to expedition ‘Chai’. Fight over who will crush the cardamom and who will put in sugar and tea leaves are sorted out.

After which the free choice part of the evening starts with everyone doing what they have to, to finish the day out. But a smile lingers on everyone’s face for the sheer joy courtesy those 15 mins.

Sun does shine on my little family. Touchwood!


Years later, when I look back to this time of my life, the one things that will stand out most in my memory is the sound of the kids crying.

There is stubborn Bugz, who wants everything her way and can cry endlessly to get her way. There is the over-sensitive Buzz, for whom even the slightest perceived slight is enough to burst in to tears. One starts and the other joins in. Highs and lows; sometimes in sync, sometimes cacophonic; crescendo reached?, who knows; climax not in sight.

Kids have the knack of getting you this close to your break point; shatter all your notions about yourself; make you abandon all your rules; bring you down to your knees; and kick you over the edge.

The kids are asleep. The hellish day that was, is done. My ears still ring with never ending cry fest. I sit and look at all I know about myself, all I thought about myself, all my views on parenting and I come back with a blank. Nothing I do seems right, not one thing seems to make it better. Anger, that I could not keep a handle on; something I would regret, I avoided by sheer will; so close, so close.

What/why/how/which/when, I wonder, as anger still simmers. Till I find the answers, I guess, an Ibuprofen for the pounding head will have to do.

Life and all it’s questions!


Life redefined

Buzz style..

Me, while talking to some one..

something something something..and such is life!

Buzz, listening on..

Mumma aap ke life kon hei? (Mumaa, who is your life?)

You baby! Bugz and you are my life.

Nahein, Papa aap ke life hein! Hum to aap ke daughters hein! (No, Papa is your life! We are your daughters!)

That she meant to say ‘Wife’ and not ‘Life’ is besides the point here. 🙂


Fight for the silliest of reason and a wall builds up. Within touching distance but a wall..un-penetrable. Not a word spoken because of the wall..soundproof.

Anger cools..hesitant words..understanding looks..pretend normal behavior..wall cracks become goes on..but some part of the hurt remains..that one last bending..that one last something..the wall is almost gone but for a couple of shards.

Sleep is broken with a small touch of leg against leg. Heart and mind calm, I move a little more in to that touch. Even in deep sleep, I feel him exhale. On reflex a hand comes touches my head and I slide to lay my head on his shoulder. My place of peace, my best pillow, my favorite place to sleep.

Flutter eyelids, sleep overtakes. Walls, there are none.

Stubbornness – Thy name is Bugz

Dear Bugz,

You used to be on all fours as you climbed up stairs; now you copy us, with only your hand on the wall for extra support. You used to be happy opening your mouth as we fed you; now you want your own bowl and spoon, else you refuse to open your mouth. You used to cry and walk circles around me till I gave you whatever it was you wanted from a drawer; now you push a chair, climb up and take out what you wish.

To me, all these changes have been seamless. If anyone were to ask me when you stopped doing this or started doing that, my answer would be yesterday. You are changing so much, so quickly that I don’t even realize when you leave something behind and start on something new. May be it is a simple fact of split focus between Didi and you, or that there is just so much going on that a lot of these things don’t register, or that you are so focused on doing all things your Didi does that you are indeed picking new things faster than I can keep track of. The only thing that keeps re-iterating itself is your stubbornness.

I catch you multiple times halfway through your fall from the dinning chair and sometimes I don’t even get there on time and yet after the required tears is done, you are standing on the same chair and smiling. You pull the chair and bring it to the slab as I cook. No matter how many times I move that chair away, because I am scared that you will burn yourself, you pull it right back and stand on it next to me. The only thing I can do is ensure that you are on the other side of the gas and I stand between the gas and you. As I make Rotis, no matter how many times I say no, you want to make holes in the dough. I see your fingers coming for the dough, I say no, you move your hands back, I turn my head to roll the roti and there your fingers are again. We go through this over and over again till I am done. I almost marvel over the fact that the rotis actually get made (albeit a bit charred).

If something has been done a certain way once, it has to be done that way – every single time. There is no rest for anyone in the house otherwise. You have to stand just so before you eat. You have to have a jacket on before we step out of the house. You have to wear only that pair of shoes. You have to have your stroller straps just this way. You have to brush your teeth (chew on the toothbrush) when Didi brushes her teeth and no one dare touch it or try to help you. You have to have your blanket draped all the way up to your shoulder before you even pretend to sleep. You have to hold my hand as you sleep and I can’t move it (irrespective of my aching shoulder) till you are in deep sleep. Any change in schedule and things are thrown around in a fit of frustration, after which you are seen head on the floor, crying as if your heart is breaking.

On the other hand, no one can make you do anything you don’t want to do. You are very swift in moving your head in the negative motion and saying, ‘unh’. ‘Bugz clean up’, ‘Bugz get down from there’, ‘Bugz give it back to Didi’, ‘Bugz where is your nose’ – all have the exact same reaction. You don’t want to do it and you won’t. You don’t talk much. Sorry an exaggeration! You don’t talk at all, pointing gets you everything. ‘Buzz what does sheep/dog/cat/cow say’. No response! Then you see a dog, point to it and say ‘Bhaao Bhaao’. Or sit in the corner with your animal sound toy, play every sound and try to imitate it, as you laugh gleefully. Suddenly Cow does not go Moo, rather goes Aaawww. Horse does not go Neigh, rather goes Eeeehhhhh. Lion does not go Roar, rather goes Oooooo. Real recorded sounds in a child’s toy vs. animal sounds as we say them out. And there is no use telling it to you. ‘Buzz say Mama/Papa’ and you refuse point blank as your parents get disheartened. Then randomly, when you really want something, you come up to me and very sweetly say, ‘Maamaamaaammaaa’.

As your Didi has her bath in the evening, you scream and shout to get out of your clothes. I refuse and stand strong. You throw a fit and I don’t budge. You run up to the tub and I pick you up and bring you back. You give up and start playing around the bathroom after a while. Then on random days, the one second I take my eyes off you, I hear your Didi scream, ‘Mumma, Bugz!’. And there you are, sitting in the bath tub besides your Didi, clothes and all, smiling your big smile at me, having slid in on your stomach.

My stubborn, stubborn little thing, I have said this before and I will say this again – I foresee many a locked horn fights between us – but for now we are testing each other’s boundaries. And for now you make up for it all with your smiles, belly laughs, the way you nestle up in my lap and hold on tight. I love you sweetheart and I am sure we will get through all our difference. Till the time for our next disagreement – you keep growing, keep learning, keep figuring things out.

Stay healthy, stay happy, stay you!