The Fish

I was traveling for the last 3 days on account of work. Went to a small but fast-developing city that had beautiful lakes and soothing greenery but had nothing much in terms of shopping, especially for someone like me who came from an undisputed shopping paradise called Bangkok.

But still I had to buy something, something nice - for that was the only way to get rid of the guilt that had immediately crept in as soon as I left my 23 months old daughter behind in pursuit of my own needs. Or maybe, it was just the longing to see some excitement on her face – her lips widening into an ear to ear smile and her eyes twinkling with excitement as she fiddled with an unexpected interesting toy in her hands, bought after much deliberation and thoughtfulness on her Mummy’s part. I wasn’t really sure what the real reason was but the fact that I had to buy something was an absolute must.

I managed to grab a couple of hours on the very first day of the visit. Slipped into my T-shirt and Jeans (Couldn’t afford to venture out in one of the only two formal sets of clothing that I had) and turned right from the hotel entrance, in hope of locating a few baby shops that I had spotted the same morning on my way from the airport. It was scorching hot and a few gracious taxis did slowdown in anticipation of a positive nod but had to speed away disappointed, for walking seemed to be the best way to get to my destination. The shops lay somewhere in the vicinity of the hotel, and I was convinced that an over-enthusiastic taxi was bound to overshoot my target cutting into the only two hour break that I had managed for myself.

“City Babies” read the first shop. I got in excited having looked at the elaborate tri-cycles and baby cots that were visible form the glass window. There were loads and loads of Chinese toys inside – all carrying a sincere promise of immediate lead poisoning and extremely low quality of manufacturing. Moving away in disappointment, I headed towards the relatively smaller section of soft toys, and realized that some of them already formed part of Mira’s overwhelming toy collection while some of them just didn’t look right.

And then, my eyes fell on her - bright and charming, yellow in color, wide black stripes, think pink lips and big black eyes. I instantaneously liked her. The cash counter did dampen my spirits though – she was far cheaper than what I had imagined her to be and the loss of currency wasn’t weighty enough to justify my 3 days of absence from home. Visited the other two shops in desperation but to absolutely no avail.

Coming back home was an exciting experience. As I slammed shut the door behind me, I saw Mira standing next to the book shelf in the passage, making up her mind about which book to pick. Papa and Daadi came running out of their individual rooms, anxious to see the reactions of a long-separated child. I moved as fast as I could while loudly exclaiming “Hello Mira” all the way towards her. She didn’t react much – a tiny blank face probably struggling to figure out the quantum of time that had elapsed since I last met her – was it normal or not?; was it more than usual?; was she around mostly as she always used to be? A minute long pause and then, she held out one of her favorite books to me, and said – “Mummy Mira read book”. No complaints, no tantrums, no realizations – I’ve to confess to my gratitude for having things the way they were and to my confidence for enhanced work-related travel in the future.

And yes, the fish happened to be a much bigger hit than what I had expected it to be. It is either trailing behind her sweeping the floor, or supporting her head as a nice soft cushion, or just lies next to her as she puts together her puzzles or goes through her books.

Papa being the Indian parent he is, didn't let go of the chance to teach something educational even with the fish. In his usual instructive tone, he said – “See Mira, Fins and tail. Fish’s fins and tail.” Me being the wicked mom I am, asked her – “If this is fish’s tail, where is Mira’s tail?”. Mira’s hand immediately shot back and ran across her entire bum, while her eyes reassured me that I’m going to soon locate it, don’t you worry.

Papa and I burst out laughing. Wonder if life could be anymore fun, exciting and content than what it is now!

Conversation this morning

Scene - Building lift. Mummy is peering into the lift mirror, wondering when would her dark circles magically disappear. Mira is playing with her cat. Soft toy, that is.

Mira: Mummy…....see Cat mooch (pointing at the cat’s moustache).

Mummy: Yes baby, Cat mooch. Very good.

Mira: Cat mooch.....Mummy mooch!

Mummy (aghast): No baby, Mummy no mooch. Mummy NO MOOCH. Didi NO mooch. Mira NO mooch. Cat mooch…….and Papa mooch. Ok?

Mira: Cat mooch………..Papa mooch.

Mummy (relieved) : Very good, baby. Very good. Cat mooch. Papa mooch. (I know, we both love repeating things.)

Mira: Mummy.......Cat meow.

Mummy: Yes Mira. Cat meow.

Mira: Cat meow….........Papa meow?

Mummy (a few seconds later) - I wish beta, I wish but Papa no meow baby, Papa no meow.

The lift opens up and a wishful Mummy and a learned Mira step out.

My little shy girl

The maternal genes are coming into play and Mira seems to be turning into a shy person – just the way her mom was and continues to be.

In today’s fast-paced competitive world, I do realize that shyness is usually not considered as a very convenient trait to carry. Over many play-dates and general conversations with friends in Bangkok as well as in India, I’ve noticed that moms are more than happy to address their kids as mischievous, obstinate, demanding or even difficult, but shyness does make a deliberate escape from their lips. Being someone who has lived with this trait for the last 30 years of my life, I do feel that most of the fears are unreal and the concerns exaggerated.

Right through my childhood till date, I’ve been a dear daughter to my parents, who always regarded my shyness as just another personality trait, which sometimes evoked laughter, sometimes embarrassment but never really demanded any significant repairs. If you’ll talk to my mom, I’m sure she’ll have dozens of incidents to tell you where I just stood frozen gazing at our green Persian carpet, rather than breaking out into an enthusiastic “Twinkle Twinkle”, which was anxiously being awaited in the company of our distant Punjabi relatives. Or, she’ll tell you how even a friendly gaze from a stranger got me burying my head into her lap, wondering if there was a magic formula that could let me evaporate from the scene of discomfort.

In fact, there’s one incident that always gets talked about in our family forums, when childhood memories are being discussed and laughed upon. I think I was in class III or IV and I had just come back from school. The door bell rang and the keyhole revealed Mrs. Bhatia, Mummy’s reasonably good friend, known for her big appetite and equally strong inquisitiveness. Partly out of shyness, and partly out of complete conviction that both of us had absolutely nothing in common, I decided to take refuge under the bed. Covering my eager-to-giggle mouth with both the hands, I anxiously awaited mom’s creativity to explain my unusual absence from the house. Mom being mom, after an exchange of pleasantries, made up her mind to deceive me and gestured aunty right under the bed. My heart did skip a beat as a double layered arm appeared right next to my shelter, and single-mindedly dragged me out with one of my legs. Embarrassment, deceit and anger – all seemed such relevant emotions at that point in time.

The amusing bit is that even today when I bump into aunty every once in a while, this incident does get a mention in the first few lines of her conversation to me. It usually ends with her mischievously asking me if I’m still found under the bed, followed by a signature hearty Punjabi laugh. Well, the answer to that is no. No, not because it is difficult to hurl a 60 kg body under the bed but because over the years, one does learn all the necessary skills to deal with the uneasy bits of shyness. There is strategically placed wit, ice-breaking laughter, friendly shoulder pats and the very belief that some of the strangers can turn out to be the best of friends that let people like me take the initiative to meet and strike conversations with the strangest of strangers.

And believe me, it has all worked well till now! I remember a few years back when I was still doing my post-grad, I was not the most popular girl on the campus (yes, one charming extrovert girl was) but nonetheless, I was a reasonably liked and respected one. All shy people, for some reason share the same characteristics of grace, self-awareness and sincerity towards others. Ok now, not even for once am I suggesting that our extrovert counterparts lack these, but shy people somehow seem to exhibit them all the time. I don’t even remember how many OB classes did I rightfully miss in order to educate my close friends on their next moves in relationships, just because I was considered good in my understanding of human nature and behavior. A simple fallout of self-awareness, I think! On people sincerity, it would probably be just apt to share that my best friend dates back to my high school – her position remains unaltered irrespective of our frequency of meeting each other or of other interesting people having entered our lives.

The trait has had almost nil effect in my office life as well. I’ve worked with different-natured juniors, colleagues and bosses and there has never really been a problem. Sometimes the pretext of work helped me tackle inconvenient situations and sometimes, my skills acquired over the years made me glide over problems.

But, shyness has never really been a handicap to me – not in my personal life and not in my professional.

So, while at the age of 22 months, it's probably a bit early for me to categorize Mira under the attribute of shyness - she might turn out to be a page 3 celebrity for all I know, but if she ever shows the signs of being what I've become – I’m going to celebrate her shyness just the way my mom did mine.

Or, maybe even more.

Some updates, thoughts & beliefs

The charms of a mom are finally being overcome. Yes, Mira has started liking her school and goes without saying that both of us are extremely happy about it. Graduating from just having a mom and nanny for company, the school has suddenly exposed her to a whole new world of friends, teachers and toys.

Staring through the glass window at her, I am always overcome with a sense of pride. My little girl whose views about the world were just limited to what her mom told her about is now shaping into her own person each day – struggling to meet new challenges and learn new experiences unaware of her mom’s loving eyes watching over her.

Hearing about my exaggerated emotions, Papa always jokes around saying that if a playschool can manage a lump in my throat, wonder what the grad school will do. I completely agree with him – I have absolutely no clue.

*****
The first couple of weeks when I was accompanying Mira to the playschool everyday, I’ve to admit to my falling for the profession of a kindergarten teacher. It is noble. It is fulfilling. It is fun. And I think it is highly suitable for someone like me who mostly believes that her arrival in this world was programmed to don several roles, with that of a mom being the most important one. While I was busy imagining myself having interesting conversations with an army of kids, the damn ego kicked in - reminded me that if I haven’t worked on communication that might completely elude consumers but does manage to win a couple of awards every once in a while, the ROI on my MBA hasn’t been availed of.

And so, here I am devising plans to crack strategies, write programs and bribe judges. But, probably some years down the line when the heart has completely overtaken the brain – it will be nice to head towards a noisy kindergarten, to pacify wailing toddlers as their poor moms embark on a guilt trip.

*****
My home lately has become a laboratory for political experiments. Remember, there was a talk sometime back about how toddlers easily latch on to the word “Obama” and not “Clinton” for whatever reason – simplicity, appeal, magic etc. Papa being a huge Obama fan immediately put the theory into action. A few days’ instructions and the results were apparent. Whenever the man appeared on the screen, both Papa’s and Mira’s eyes lit up – former with appreciation and the latter with recognition. While Papa struggled with his new policy on change, Mira ran across the entire room shouting – “Obama bama bama”. And at times, it was preceded by the ubiquitous loving punju title– “Oye Obama, Oye Obama, bama, bama, bama”.

*****
Animation movies seem to have a profound effect on me these days. Ratatouille was the first thing on the planet that made me believe that I had all the capabilities of being a great cook. I had just about managed to crack Moong daal and a couple of other tough recipes, when Kungfu Panda hit the theaters. According to Panda, everything in this world is possible provided you believe in it. I’ve lately started believing that I can have a rocking full-fledged career while also being able to attend to Mira, every-time she smiles or cries. I know it is a bit difficult given that humans still haven’t invented the technique of being present at two different places simultaneously, but what the heck, Panda says believe in yourself and I’m just going to do that!

Trailers show that Wall-e is the next upcoming one – any idea what that would be about?

The mole

A lazy Saturday morning. Papa, Mira & I, still in our night-suits, are stretched out on the bed. Papa is constantly pulling out tricks one after another to amuse Mira and is decently succeeding at it too. Suddenly, Mira notices something unexpected on Papa’s arm. She leaps forward and grabs hold of the arm, brings her finger close to the unexpected object, crinkles up her face and with the most disgusted expression, says “Chee Chee”. Not really sure if the audience got the message across, she completes it with a disdainful – “Dirty Dirty”.

Papa and I burst out laughing. It’s a big dark mole.

Papa decides to reverse the situation and begins to aim at me. He catches hold of my right arm – points out to a big birthmark close to the elbow and exclaims – “Chee Mama Dirty”. See Mira – “Mama dirty”.

Mira instantaneously turns back. Without even looking at the spot, she straight leaps on to me. Hugging me close, she shoots back at Papa accusingly – “Mama Dirty no Papa”, Mama Dirty no Papa”.

And finishes it with the most appropriate – “Dirty Papa”, “Dirty Papa”.

:-)

Playschool updates

Usually known for decisiveness and clear thinking, the playschool subject has clearly proven me otherwise. My emotions range from one end of the spectrum to the other from the time I drop Mira in the morning to the afternoon when I get her back.

Mornings are usually filled with confusion and sadness. The car ride from the house to the school, which earlier used to have Mira enthusiastically pointing out things to me has now-a-days left her concentrating on the road, wondering where our destination would be. As soon as we step into the school, she breaks into continuous crying, not loud enough to reach people standing nearby but strong enough to let me re-evaluate the decision to get her there. It is a hard moment to take her off my arms and hand her over to the teacher, as her crying reaches a higher volume and I continue walking towards the car.

Afternoons are a different affair altogether. I usually reach a bit early so that I can see Mira having lunch through the glass window – the last activity of the school before they call it a day. There’s a good amount of calmness on Mira’s face as she struggles to balance the spoon till her mouth. She confidently walks towards the nanny when she’s done – gets herself cleaned up and willingly changes into a clean dress, all ready to be carried back. It is at this time that I bang open the door and yell out a lively “Mira”, while all she gives me is a pleasant confident smile, not a sigh of relief, mind you and raises her arms to be picked up for the journey home.

So, while every morning I swear that this is going to be our last day in school, every afternoon cheers me up and lets me give the next day a shot.

The confusion finally got to me today and I decided to take a call. Realizing my inability to think objectively, I turned to Papa for the decision and promised to stand by it. We did a bit of research – the school teachers shared that Mira’s crying lasted just till the time she saw me around and that she changed into a reasonably happy child after that. It's nothing but separation anxiety from the mom, Papa gave his expert comment.

And so, while mornings might continue to remain tough, we’ve decided to go ahead with the school for a while.

A friend tells me that sooner or later all kids start liking the school. Her’s infact takes to the floor and refuses to go back– 5 different bribes and the promise to come back the next day just about manage to get her to the gate.

While I’m surely not looking forward to Mira doing the same, but a bit of excitement will certainly be great!

******
Mira’s Papa and I are very similar people. I mean, given a certain situation, I’m sure both of us will reach the same conclusions, for the same set of values and reasoning that we share. But, there’re other differences though – I tend to get a bit more emotional and subjective, just the way all women are while Papa has a more rational and “I can see through the façade” kind of approach, which probably all men have, I guess.

These differences keep cropping up every now and then – take the last Friday’s incident for instance. Just like all other days, I had gone to pick up Mira from her school – Friday was the last day of the summer camp and the school was going in for a week long break before the next session resumed. As a token of remembrance of the camp, the teacher handed over the following to me:

Let me explain, this is a frame that’s got Mira’s picture on the right, as you can see and a small piece of clay with different colored beads stuck into it, on the left.

Clay with the beads is Mira’s creation – I mean, with the help of the teacher obviously, she rolled out the clay and then, put different beads onto it.

I was extremely excited to see it.

I immediately called up Papa to share the excitement, as soon as I got Mira seated into the car. After the usual long thinking pause, Papa muttered out – “Hmm….these school people come up with the best of gimmicks. See, now we parents are hooked on for long.”

Sorry…..what did I hear – GIMMICKS? And here I was, drooling over Mira’s first piece of work – her first ever creation. My mind by now had already raced through the future – visualizing different achievements of my little girl, all nicely occupying important positions in our drawing room.

Papa’s reaction was surely a bit of a damper. Did someone just say that we both think alike?

A new beginning

23rd June, 2008 marks a historic day in the annals of our Bhopali household.

Mira went to (play)school for the first time this day and boy, you should have seen the parents – pride levels were nothing short of a child being sent off to a path-breaking space mission or to guard the very borders of our dear country.

The only difference was that this mom tagged along and patrolled the areas for the first two weeks in our new undertaking.


It’s been all good so far – largely because Mira knew that mom was always around in case of any emergency situations. Situations that demanded her to talk to scary strangers called “teachers” or to remain restricted to one’s own plate during lunch sessions.

To be fair to Mira, she didn’t really seek my active participation during most of the days except for 2 key situations - one, when there was diaper changing time and Mira cried out for help on being physically encountered in the wrong places. I hope that she gets over this soon enough and that the teacher doesn’t have to look for help everytime the damn thing reaches its maximum absorption capacity.

The second thing in fact, made me feel good and I hope that the habit continues for long. Mira used to come running to me as soon as she discovered something interesting (a big dinosaur toy the first day) to play with. Having only heard “My TV”, “My remote” and “My blanket”, it was nice to know that at least someone in the house believed in sharing.

Mira has entered her third week of schooling now and the teachers have sworn to call up 100 if they ever see me around, except for the time the kid needs to be carried back. All the pride and excitement, as you’d expect has been suitably replaced with anxiety, worry, fear and guilt.

The deal is to see how Mira takes it for the first few days and then decide whether to continue her schooling or to postpone it by a few more months. While the signs on the first two days haven’t been too bad, a proper conclusion will be reached only by the end of this week.

Keeping my fingers crossed – let's hope our small space mission ends up successfully.

Mira & her Daadi

I was a bit disturbed when Daadi left Bangkok a couple of months back to head towards her house in Bhopal.

Daadi has been visiting us twice a year since as far back as I can remember. In fact, she has been visiting us since there was no "us" - Papa was a workaholic bachelor whose house could put any person with ordinary domestic skills to shame. A house where blankets pleaded to be folded, dust jeered at being preserved under the carpets and socks yearned to be paired with their correct soul mates yet again. Daadi's primary objective was to put the aforesaid house in order and then to spend some quality time with her long-separated son, if time permitted. Soon it was 2001 and Daadi's reasons for visiting had completely changed - it was time to bond with the daughter-in-law and teach her some face saving cooking so that our Bhopali neighbor doesn't undergo an unbearable torture called "Ghar ka khaana", on her only trip to Bangkok. September, 2006 and Mira appeared on the horizon - the most pleasurable, long-lasting and engaging reason till date for Daadi to come over and stay with us.

I was disturbed because Daadi had been for good 3 months with us and both Mira and she shared a special bond by now. Daadi's relationship with Mira was nothing like mine - she couldn't bathe her, massage her, run after her or do any of the physical stuff that took a toll on her health. But, there were other moments of companionship though. Every morning, while Daadi sipped her hot tea and glanced through the newspaper, Mira sat right next to her equally engrossed in her "Nursery Rhymes" book. The silence was regularly broken by "Aur yeh?" "Aur yeh?" as her little finger ran through unknown objects on the pages. Daadi was the one who introduced her to cakes, custard, eggs and her current favorite - chicken while I was so very happy serving the age old khichdi to her which was reluctantly but successfully finding its way through her mouth. Evenings were reserved for the kids' room and Daadi made it a point to be there each day. She sat in a corner making a mental note of her newly acquired skills while Mira happily slid through the yellow tunnel, rode in a toy car and climbed through a maze of ropes.

Initially, I was not too sure if Daadi was really bonding with Mira. She was constantly there but Mira was too brimming over with energy. Even on the bed, she was tempted to stand up and walk across every now and then only to be rescued by someone in the nick of time. The lack of physical involvement, I thought would probably get into the way but no, I was wrong. It was just a matter of few days and the signs of reciprocation were wide and clear. She was straight off to Daadi’s room as soon as she got up from sleep. She would climb onto the bed and sit exactly like her - her feet completely stretched out and back rested against a pillow, as another melodramatic saas-bahu serial played out on TV. She would suddenly get up from a partially played puzzle and bang on the bathroom door just to ascertain that Daadi is there, that Daadi is around.

I was worried that Mira will not take too kindly to Daadi’s sudden act of disappearance. I looked out for signs the next morning. Mira, as expected scooted off to Daadi’s room and then, went around the house looking for her. I told her that Daadi was off to India, now whatever that meant to a toddler’s little mind but I decided to deliver the truth – plain and simple. Another couple of days and she searched for her – sometimes in the TV room, sometimes in the kids’ room and sometimes in the balcony. But after that, things just got back to normal – after all, there are too many temptations available for a 20 month old to remain occupied and not slip into the deep recesses of unhappiness. Temptations like 4 different Teddy bears, new toys waiting to be banged and disfigured, cream colored sofa ready to be ripped and colored and fast aging parents available for entertainment always.

And so, things are just fine at our threesome household. Mira though excitedly points out Daadi whenever we go through our family album once in a while but she doesn’t really ask questions about her anymore. She also comes over to say a quick hello to her over the phone , unless she is obviously too caught up with hugging her teddies and tearing her books. Daadi on the other hand, hasn’t stopped talking about Mira ever since. There are detailed updates sought about her every other day - What new words have been added to her vocabulary?, Isn’t it too early for you guys to send her to school?, Can I send something for her through xyz?, Has she picked up “Twinkle Twinkle”?, Will she recognize me when I come next? etc. etc. etc.

And I guess this is how it will be for the next few months till we hit September. September – when Daadi comes over for her second round of visit to Bangkok and a new chapter in the Daadi-Poti relationship begins.

Mira in the 20th month

Motherhood is a weird thing. Some of the most ordinary and humdrum things in life suddenly assume high value when delivered by your little one. Mira has lately started combining words – probably the beginning of sentence formation at her end. So, unlike earlier when it was just about - Come, Sit, Bye Bye, Go, Hello; Mira has now moved to - Hello Mumma, Come Papa, Sit Deedi, No girl, Take Baby - all accompanied with a slight singing tone and an anticipation of a “very good” from the other end. Resultantly, I end up spending much more time with her while all my pending jobs slowly transcend from the important category to the urgent one.

Probably doing the To Do list is not such a great idea – huh?

**********
If a lion ever hears Mira talking about him, believe me, his ego would be down in the dumps. On the other hand, a rabbit might just feel elated and reassured about his cute positioning.

Still struggling to twist her tongue as the alphabets demand to be, Mira calls the Lion as Lana, Tiger as Taga and the Rabbit as Raba.

Don’t blame it on me - I’ve been doing my share to get things in order:

Me: Mira, TI...GER...

Mira (cheerfully): TA...GA...

Me: No Mira, say TI...

Mira(ok): Ti...

Me: GER…

Mira (ok): GARRRR…

Me: Very good, TIGER

Mira (Hey, I know this!): TAGA

Me: No Mira, TIGER

Mira (that’s right): TAGA

Me: TIGER…TIGER…TIGER

Mira: TAGA…TAGA…TAGA

**********
With absolute zero modesty, let me admit that I continue to remain Mira’s favorite person so far. But, you know given the fact that Papa is more of a weekend parent and gets very little time to spend with Mira over weekdays, I’ve to confess that he too is performing pretty decently on the popularity front.

But, there’s a difference between the way Mira greets me when I’m back from my unnecessary 2 hour long shopping v/s the way she greets Papa when he’s home after a long day’s hard work. With me, she is obviously jumping with joy, all eager to get onto my lap and spend some good fun time together while with Papa, she acts as if she hasn’t really noticed him and continues doing her stuff, though with a huge smile suppressed between her lips and a face going almost red with shyness.

It’s only when Papa has grabbed her off the bed and is half way though the acrobatic stuff that she bursts into squeals of laughter and is adamant about not letting go of him, even if it’s an urgent call of nature.

And so in short, though in very different manners both of us are receiving loads of attention from Mira and we are loving it to the hilt.

In fact sometimes it really makes me wonder as to who actually is the baby here!:-)

Paris, Carnac & Barcelona - The final part

Barcelona is a beautiful city. With soothing waterways and amazing architecture, Barcelona almost appeared like an apt cross between the lovely cities of Sydney and Rome to me.

But, it was not really the beauty that made Barcelona the best leg of our holiday; it was the liveliness rather. Imagine a city that has much wider streets for pedestrians than the roads - streets which are buzzing with people; live performances and human statue art constantly entertaining you as busy hawkers retail cheap but interesting stuff by the side. So much energy and life throbs into the city that it can almost lift you up from the lowest of moods and make you feel happy about the most mundane things in life.

The city also brims over with things to see – museums, squares, parks, churches, art galleries etc. Our favorite place though was the Sagrada Familia, a beautiful church envisioned by Spain’s modernist architect, Gaudi which is still in the process of being built.

It is a mammoth structure that depicts the birth as well as crucifixion of Jesus on its 2 facades, with 1 being still under construction. There are breath-taking statues all over it made of unusual materials and unbelievable precision. The monument though beautiful, leaves one with a strong sense of loneliness - the high ceiling, the expansive interiors and the somber statues set you up in an introspective mode as one surrenders oneself to the will of God.

While the Sagrada Familia presented the epitome of architecture to Papa and me, it didn’t quite make it to Mira’s list. For her, the biggest and the foremost highlight of Barcelona was pigeon chasing. Yup – pigeon chasing! She was off my lap as soon as she spotted some pigeons – chased them enthusiastically and chuckled loudly as they fluttered away into the sky.

The other highlight was Mira’s discovery of Mc Donald’s, rather Mc Donald’s chicken nuggets. Oh, I tell you these guys have just got the recipe right. For someone like Mira, who has rejected right from ice-creams to Cerelac, Mc Donald’s nuggets qualified as the rare ready made food which successfully made its way to her usually uncooperative mouth. Believe me, It was a divine sight and I was so very loving it!

Final highlight – the parks and the play areas. As soon as the guilt of visiting monuments, museums and other places of adult interest dawned upon us, we quickly relieved ourselves of the burden by visiting the closest park or play area. It was good fun as Mira and I rode the swings and enjoyed the rides while Papa dug his head into the city map to locate our next destination of interest.

In short, it was all going amazingly well till one fine morning when Mira got up to see her mom hurriedly dumping clothes into bags. She did declare “ghumi” and was confidently heading towards the stroller, but was whisked away and carried off to a waiting taxi instead - Barcelona airport being our next destination. Ironically, while Mira and I still longed to stay back to chase that one last pigeon or admire that one last monument, Papa was already dreaming about getting back to Bangkok – looking forward to gulping a full bowl of Thai noodles as he watched one of his latest DVDs on TV.

And guess what, we are back – back to the ordinary but deliciously familiar life. Nothing much has changed - the noodles are still being cooked, the DVDs still being played, the playroom still being frequented, except that a scatter-brained mom keeps visiting it every now and then to boast about her flawless planning and execution which got her entire family to spend a lovely holiday together – a holiday made of 11 long days, 3 unfamiliar places and a really harsh winter:-)

Paris, Carnac & Barcelona - Part II

The plan to go to Carnac was last minute. In fact, it happened only because a dear friend invited us over to spend a few days with him in his ancestral house there. Being the eager-to-meet-up people we are, we said yes and so did a couple of colleagues more, making the group bigger and merrier.

The house was beautiful – the living room opened up into a small well-kept garden which led upto a white sand beach. The colors of the sea were nicely extended to the interiors of the house with a soothing white and blue theme, making it look modern but yet so very natural.

Our all four days in Carnac were absolutely relaxing. Papa and I split our jobs in the morning with him playing the vigilant parent at the beach while I slogged out in the kitchen (yes – the roles never reverse!). Mira had a blast on the beach – she either ran around wildly feeling the cold breeze on her face or held onto Papa’s hand and walked around slowly noticing her footprints on the sand.



She could have probably spent her entire day there if not for the “Breakfast is ready” call which made Papa spring into action and literally drag her to the house.

Afternoons were either reserved for siestas (if Mira was too tired and sleepy) or chit chatting with friends (if Mira was not too tired and sleepy). Since any parent would know that the former happens very rarely on a holiday, we ended up making nice wide-ranging conversations with friends, as Mira pottered around the place with her toys. It was just wonderful to laze around and gossip, to pick on each other’s nationalities (1 French, 1 Thai, 1 Chinese & 2 Indians believe me, make quite a group!), to check out past days pictures on our cameras and to generally crib about how the holiday is coming to an end a bit too early.

The mood kind of continued in the evening though we did get off our backs and moved around in the town. Carnac is a lovely French village where life seemed to be in no hurry at all –people played by the sea despite the lowest of temperatures, restaurants overflowed with people as if nobody wished to cook at home and the stone cobbled streets carried more people on foot than in cars.

So, we decided to do the Carnac way – we got into our sports shoes and just walked from one street to another. Mira helped out the process by taking to the stroller. Though a bit resistant in the beginning, she did finally decide to rescue my labor stricken back and grace the stroller instead.

And that’s how we covered most of the town – the churches, the squares, the souvenir shops and not to forget some of the best French restaurants with really delicious and memorable food.

Now that I look back at the Carnac trip, I realize that it was wonderful not just for the sights and the sea but for the company we had. It was great to hang out together, to talk silly stuff till late in the night, to get someone else to push the stroller once in a while and to be able to dig into 5 different dishes in any possible meal.

Carnac also served as a high point for the mom in me – the trip had gone exceedingly well till now – Mira didn’t miss a single meal, the cold virus remained miles away, she slept peacefully through the nights and most importantly, she enjoyed every day and every bit of the trip.

My confidence was at its peak. I somehow knew that the next 4 days of our trip were going to be equally good. I was so very ready for them.

I was so very ready for Barcelona.

Paris, Carnac & Barcelona - Part I

3 new places, 11 long days, a really harsh winter and 1 inexperienced toddler - believe me carry the most potent capacity to cook up an inevitable disaster for anyone. And being the paranoid mom I am – I was going crazy imagining these very disasters that could possibly crop up in the course of our holiday – like what if Mira decides to go on a hunger strike?, what if cold waves penetrate the thick layers of woolens on her body and engulf Mira in a long-lasting spell of fever or what if she just misses her normal routine at home – the pranks with her nanny, the fun at the playroom, the familiarity of the house……etc. etc. etc.

So what do you think really happened? A great holiday or a day-counting return to home?...Well-traveled legs or cold blocked noses?...An extra-obsessed mom or err…an extra-obsessed mom? Well, let’s not jump the gun, instead walk with me through these 11 unpredictable days and 3 wonderful places to discover what actually lay at the end of our journey. Deal? Deal. So, let’s now begin!

Paris, as the headline says was our first stop in the vacation. We arrived at our hotel around noon, having gone through a back-breaking 12 hours journey in the plane. Though Mira dozed off pretty early in the flight, giving Papa and me a good sigh of relief, she did remain restless through the night - her movements restrained by the grip of the seatbelt. As a result, we were all tired and sleepy by the time we reached Paris the next day.

We decided to take our first day easy and ventured out only in the evening. Walking from one street to another, we enjoyed the beautiful boulevards and pedestrian friendly roads of the city. We had our dinner in a sidewalk café – clearly one of our best experiences in the city! With cold breeze caressing our faces, it was just lovely to watch people pass by - women dressed in their trendy over-coats and high-heels, kids whizzing by on roller-skates and men going about their business, as usual. Mira almost behaved like an animal set free, running from one end of the street to the other, talking to herself and bumping into people every now and then.

Day 2 was much more eventful – we went for a river cruise, visited the famous Sacre-Coeur Basilica, sat through a fashion show but the Louvre museum was undoubtedly the highlight of the day. Now, this museum runs into 4 huge floors with thousands and thousands of paintings on display. We straight headed towards the Mona Lisa. I mean, THE Mona Lisa. Like any small-town Indian, we first clicked some 10 different photos with the much-talked about lady in question, before we set our prying eyes on her. It was weird – though Mona Lisa is hailed as Leonardo Da Vinci’s best creation ever, I seriously struggled to see what really made it so special. I agree – the enigmatic smile is there but you know, is it good enough to be rated as highly as it is done by all? But on a different note, the museum was really quite awesome - going through different eras of paintings, each supported with an individual piece of history and reasoning was clearly once in a lifetime experience. It was probably one of the few times that Papa and I walked for 3 hours at a stretch, without him asking for food or me complaining about the pain in my legs. A big achievement, I tell you! Mira too was overwhelmed by the sights - she soon stretched out in her stroller and we called it a day.

Day 3 – For first half of the final day, Mira and I were resigned to four walls of our hotel room while Papa was busy cracking some marketing strategies with his colleagues. I finished off all urgent tasks in Papa’s absence – cooked Mira’s khichdi in my mini rice cooker, packed all the essential stuff for the travel the next day and kept my 19 month amused till she got tired and fell off to sleep.

The evening was reserved for visiting the Eiffel Tower - one of the most celebrated monuments in the world. Big and beautiful, Eiffel Tower is strategically located beside the Seine river and is led by huge green lawns, with rows of trees on either sides. The Tower at any point in time looks great but the night shot was clearly the best with the entire structure being lit up with tiny lights. And here’s a picture to prove the fact!

And with that we bid goodbye to the romantic city of Paris and set our sights on the beautiful town of Carnac.

More details in the upcoming post.

News at our end

Mira is a well-behaved child. And so, did I think until she unleashed herself in Toys R Us, Bangkok’s biggest toy shop which we went to over the weekend. It was maddening, it was crazy and it was just not Mira! She behaved like a whirlwind, dashing from one toy section to the other. Pushing the walker one minute and banging the xylophone the other. She didn’t care whether I was around or not – she just kept running wildly as toys called out to her from different rows of the shop. We frantically looked out to buy something for her but unfortunately, nothing really worked out. She wanted toys which were way above her age – 3+, 4+, 5+ while Papa and I just couldn’t find something she liked. And so, we took the plunge – I forcibly picked up Mira in my arms and we sprinted towards the exit. I kept showing her toys on the way hoping that we might manage to find something good and compatible while Mira kept howling and punching me in the chest.

And finally, we found something – something that three of us liked.

We paid at the counter and hurriedly left the shop – my cheeks still red with embarrassment, Papa shaking his head in disbelief and Mira smiling ear to ear with a lovely Barney in her hands.

******
Papa has always accused me of being a spoil sport. He travels to various exotic places on account of work and despite repeated encouragements, I’ve never really accompanied him to any. But this time, I made an exception to the rule. I said yes and as a result, all 3 of us are leaving for a full 11 day trip tonight. Place? Hmmmm….let me keep it a secret this time…….but I promise to fill you in with details once I’m back – to unload a camera full of photos and a mind full of anecdotes. Will catch you guys soon! See ya…

Tales of Krabi

Ahha……….now this is where we went to!

Pristine white sand beaches, crystal clear blue water, random huge limestone hills and the lovely sunny sky – in short, the beautiful province of Krabi. Located at the shore of the Andaman sea with almost 130 islands in its possession, Krabi undoubtedly is one of the most relaxing places in Thailand.

Baffled with the vastness of the province, Papa and I quickly drew up a 3 day itinerary focusing on the key islands of Krabi, leaving us with enough time to relax as well as explore the entertainment facilities of our hotel. Since we were a bit nervous about Mira’s first encounter with water, we decided to sign up for a half day trip that allowed us to hop between Krabi’s 4 big islands.

Sunglasses, sunscreen, swim suits, baby food – all nicely packed in a bag, Papa, Daadi, Mira and I set out for our trip. A speedboat transported us from the hotel beach to the destination. While Papa and I headed straight towards the bow of the boat, Mira clung tightly to Daadi scared of the gurgling sound of the water and the noisy engine of the boat. Having sat right in front of the bow, my view of the sights was completely uninterrupted. The rush of cold wind in my face, hair fluttering against the forehead, the never-ending stretch of water and the birds flying by made the scene so very beautiful! Don’t think Papa enjoyed it as much as he kept struggling to retain the cap on his head, which was ready to give in to the will of the wind.

The islands were even better –simple, peaceful and yet so very beautiful. Walking into the sea made the whole experience real – touch of the water suddenly transformed us into a part of the nature, rather than being mere spectators from outside. The sea, the fish, the hills and the sky all seemed so much more approachable and intrinsic at that point in time.

Papa and I enjoyed the sea by constantly dipping into it, sometimes near the beach and sometimes a bit far. In the true teenager style, we had great fun splashing water onto each other rather than resorting to the complicated adventures of snorkeling and diving. And Mira, she turned out to be a true water baby – comfortably seated in her small swim tube held onto by Papa’s dependable arms, Mira joined in the fun by cheerfully swaying and babbling in the sea.

The fish just added to the pleasure – in fact, it was probably one of the best parts of the whole experience – the sea was full of these small harmless fish which came rushing in as soon as we dropped some bread crumbs in water. The fact that they were all around us, probably kissing us around the legs was good enough to evoke happy giggles of laughter from all three of us. Daadi, who all this while was missing the fun standing at the edge of the beach, finally gave in to the temptation and walked right inside hitching her salwaar upto the knees. And then, the whole family got down to their favorite water activity - splashing water on each other!

The hotel too had lots to offer – the swimming pool, the beach, the play room, the relaxing king size bed and loads and loads to eat from! But, probably the best was the elephant show that happened by the beach with a baby elephant called Ra Ra. And one could make out that Ra Ra was having the time of his life – rolling in the sand, picking people in his trunk, blowing water on bystanders and gobbling lots and lots of bananas in a go. Mira loves haathis and Ra Ra was like a dream come true – though she was scared to get too close to the animal, she cheerfully clapped and egged him on from a distance.

And like this, three days just passed away quickly leaving us relaxed, refreshed and not to forget…… beautifully tanned. It was surely a wonderful trip with lots of beautiful memories – memories of Mira’s first encounter with water, Daadi’s first beach holiday after ages, Papa’s much-needed break from office and most importantly, lovely time spent with the whole family together.

Mira's day in Krabi

We started off with the beach,










And then, went to the pool,











A little bit of sleep,

And we were ready for some play.





Though it may sound simple but it was our schedule for the day.

For the first, the second, the third – yes for each day of our stay.

Now why is Mummy taking time for such a simple thing to say?

But you do keep tuned in while I got to say bye-bye!

Holiday time!

YES…YES…YES! After weeks and weeks of planning and cancellation, Mira’s Papa has finally managed to zero down on the coming week for him to wriggle out of office and take us all for a nice and short holiday. The plan is to go to Krabi - a beautiful beach province in the south of Thailand.

All of us are eagerly awaiting this trip but for very different reasons though. Papa’s reasons are the most uncomplicated – to put in simple words – it’s the jumbo prawns, huge pillows and the soothing seawater. And that’s it. Daadi’s are probably much more empathetic – she is finally tired of going from one mall to another in the name of fun & entertainment and is hoping that the serene surroundings and the azure water will do her some good. And for me, the very idea of going out as a family - planning out the day bit by bit, clicking some thousand unnecessary photographs, playing the instructive mom to Mira and Papa – is just too romantic to not remember and cherish this trip for long after it’s done.

Well, the only person who seems to be unaware of what’s happening around is madam Mira. But Papa is kind of training her to what’s coming. After several rounds of instructions, now whenever Papa screams at the top of his volume – “We are going to…….”, Mira enthusiastically raises both her arms in the air and declares “Kaabi………”.

Yes my dear, WE ARE GOING TO KRAAAAABI! :-)

Happiness

The last 4 weeks have been nothing short of maddening. My part-time work magically expanded to fill up most of my weekday hours, leaving me with just enough time to be with Mira and nothing beyond that. The squeaking dining chair, the over-exhausted chandelier bulbs and the constantly depleting kitchen stocks are proofs of the long hours I spent on my laptop, wondering what possibly could be the best way of camouflaging an age old formula into something new and out of the box.

But to be honest, let me confess that the volume of work wasn’t really that much. It is largely my work-out-of-home profile that has robbed me of a simulating work environment leaving me with just me alone to think, plan, rectify, learn and move ahead. Though a lot of fun in the beginning with no rigid work schedules and no pair of eyes constantly watching over me, working out of home has lately left me with lots to desire. At a simple level, it is just the pleasure of leaning over a colleague’s cubicle to figure out the latest – if she managed to catch the last day sale at the local hip store, whether her long-drawn out strategy could win us the pitch the other day or whether her annoying client has been rightfully demoted and shifted to an obscure profile given all his unreasonable atrocities on us. At a higher level, it is the joy of working in a team – while brainstorming a strategy, cracking a brief, fighting for an idea, celebrating a success or sulking over a failure. But now, working from home, everything is so very distant – any applause or abuse just loses its intensity by the time it gets onto a skype installed computer or a mobile phone and reaches my eager-to-find-out ears. Learning has become so much slower with me hardly being able to access the dozens of ideas that are constantly being churned out by seniors, juniors and colleagues – some which adorn the biggest of campaigns while some which are left out to be used for some other brand at some other time.

But, having said all that, believe me I am not really unhappy. Yes, there are times when I wonder the rate at which I am learning or the pace at which my career is growing? Whether my batch-mate from Pune is at a level higher in the organization or whether my ex-colleague’s bank balance has grown heavier than mine? But largely, on a day to day basis, it just doesn’t bother me at all. In fact, I feel the clarity that has slowly crept into my life post Mira. I realize that my path to ultimate happiness might not be the same as my closest friends today, just because we started off with similar aspirations and goals a few years back. I realize that I can choose not to be in the corporate race even if all the people I know of are running it with the single most focus in their lives. I realize that the fact that I am good needs absolutely no verification – not from a person and certainly not from a job.

I realize that we all have our different definitions of happiness and that for me it surely doesn’t lie in a high-paying job laden with unpredictable traveling plans and long working hours. At least not for now, not at this point in time. It surely doesn’t lie in being a housewife either, but it belongs somewhere in between. It lies in a life that gives me a good amount of time with Mira – the most beautiful person in my life accompanied with a way of giving vent to my knowledge– an employment which gives me a bit of identity, financial independence and mental growth. It is a trade-off that I am so very comfortable with - it might not offer the best of money or growth but it does give me the time and opportunity to experience Mira first hand, to be there when she wants me and to be there when she doesn’t want me. And that is true happiness for me – happiness which is there for me today and will hopefully continue to be for times to come.

Mira in the making

Don’t know whether you guys know or not but “Tim tim timate hain…….” is the theme song for Zee TV’s Sar Re Ga Ma Little Champs. A quite decent song actually which is sung by all the participants/ little champs themselves. We have lately realized that this is Mira’s favorite song. Most favorite song. She can probably kill a person if he blocks her view while the song is going on. She watches it with utmost attention and gleefully dances along. Interestingly, Mira still hasn’t realized that she has got hips too which can be used to respond to the beats of the music. And so, dance is just restricted to clapping hands, swaying arms, nodding head and bending knees.

Mira’s Papa, who is quite a TV buff himself, has been witness to Mira’s liking for this song and so despite the strongest of urges, tries not to flip the channel so that his little girl too can enjoy a bit of TV which he always had the monopoly on. Mummy who is keenly aware of Papa’s despair, is keeping extremely happy these days.

**************
I strongly believe that a potty trained kid is the biggest achievement a mommy can have. Seriously! So, while many other not-so-enlightened moms spend precious time teaching kids how to say “Thank You” or “Sorry”, I have been relentlessly teaching “Potty” to Mira. After around a year of hard-work, you know what, Mira has finally started saying “Paatee” a couple of days back. Seeking credit for my biggest victory, I was informing Papa about the benefits of this learning, when Mira in her usual endearing manner announced “Paatee” to both of us. Papa and I sprinted from the drawing room to the bathroom, ready to see concrete results of this knowledge in action. While Papa and I awaited the outcome with bated breath, all that Mira produced was a cheerful mischievous grin. Hey, do you really think I need to start teaching her “Thankyou” and “Sorry”?

**************
Mira croaks like a frog. No, you can’t attribute this to any genetic potential since Papa and I both fail to imitate this charming animal. Initially, this croaking (a strange noise that emanates from the throat) was random – could start off when Mira was in a good mood, was on her potty (not again!) or was simply bored to do anything else. Now, I almost see a pattern emerging – she starts off the croaking as soon as she feels a challenge being thrown at her. So, you know, when I’m teaching her some new words, like ‘El……ee……phaaant” and Mira needs to get back to Mumma with a challenge for her, she begins her croaking with a charming vengeance. Almost saying, hey if I can’t say that long meaningless word, even you can’t make this lovely sound. Can you? And so, both of us get down to doing what we know best – going mindlessly through colorful magazines where Mummy keeps staring at handsome hunks and Mira fondly keeps pointing them out as Ungals (Uncles). Not a bad deal, huh?

Mummy & Mira - Part II

Mira is on one of her regular rounds of the living room when she encounters a piece of food lying on the floor. Of course, she promptly picks it up.

Mummy runs towards Mira and pulls her to the dustbin, insisting she drops the food there.

Mira resists.

“Mira, please drop it. Drop it in the Dustbin…. NOW!”.

Mummy holds Mira’s arm and shakes it a bit, trying to loosen her grip.

It doesn’t.

“Miraaaaaa” – Mummy goes back to her grown-ups-know-best voice.

“No Mumma” – Mira answers back obstinately.

“Mira, please drop it” – Mummy continues.

“Aunnnghhh” – Mira fights back.

“Drop it Mira” – Mummy refuses to budge.

Mira finally gives in - she opens her other hand and drops Mummy’s mobile into the dustbin.

**************

“What does Sheep say, Mira?”

“Baa”- she says instinctively as she stacks her cups in the descending order.

“What does Cow say, Mira?”

“Moo” - as she dismantles the same tower of cups.

“What does Dog say Mira?”

“Bhau Bhau” - as she gets up to hunt for something new to play with.

(Usually, the Q&A session ends here. But, Mummy is in a mood to experiment today – she asks an interesting question with absolutely zero hope of receiving an answer.)

What does Mummy say Mira?

Mira continues to walk for a while and then suddenly turns back.

She looks Mummy in the eye, moves her finger in the to and fro motion and says “NO NO!”

Safari World

Mira’s Papa and I are just not the adventure kind. We’ve never parasailed in the unpredictable wind of a beach or rafted in the daring water of a river. Any adrenaline raising activity, if ever undertaken, has either been part of college curriculum or some superfluous team building initiative from office. After all, we pride ourselves as rational and practical people who prefer taking man-made safer alternatives rather than testing one’s luck through parachutes, rafts, ropes and things like these.

So, when we traveled to a fabulous open zoo called Safari World, we ensured that we stuck to our rational profile just like a honey bee does to the hive. But still, this trip was really memorable - it was Mira’s very first encounter with real animals; till now she had only seen them in different shapes and sizes in her picture books. And second, because it had the entire family in accompaniment – Mira, Mira’s cautious parents, Mira’s super-organized Daadi, Mira’s 2 hep Nepalese maids and a real clever Thai driver.

As soon as this eclectic mix of ours reached the park, we were supplied with all-in-one guide maps, which carried the various animals we would encounter on our way inside along with their brief descriptions. This jungle trail was supposed to be done in one’s vehicle since the animals were let loose in their natural habitats. The other section on the map talked about the different animal shows/ interactions along with their precise timings. Having taken a copy each, we headed towards the park and came across the first set of activities:

a) Feed a tiger cub by a milk bottle;
b) Shake hands with orang utans dressed in the most fluorescent of clothes;
c) Click pictures with the super-trained elephants (in dangerous proximity).

The mere sight of people queuing up to do such unbelievably meaningless stuff triggered off a series of nervous spasms in my body and the brain worked overtime to look for a well-suited excuse, when Papa (who might be under the same stress) announced single-mindedly, “Let’s hit the jungle trail first”. Mira’s Daadi who had barely reached the inside was taken by surprise and mused out loudly about the change in plan. “We don’t have much time on hand,” Papa answered back in the most matter-of-fact manner. “We are here for Mira – to show her the animals. We’ll do all this stuff later, if there’s time that is,” Papa said conclusively eliminating all possible chances of us ever coming back to this dangerous animal trio while we all proceeded towards the car.

So, there we were – four reasonably large women occupying the rear seat in a zig zag pattern, while Papa & Mira made themselves comfortable in the front seat along with the driver. As the trail began, we took up our individual roles. I played the official guide – spreading out my jungle map awkwardly with Daadi on one side and a maid on the other, announcing the name of each upcoming animal as we moved from point to point. Papa, as usual, continued with his role of confusing us by presenting his half baked knowledge (this time on animals!) which was interspersed with distracting Mira from pulling out A/C knobs from the dashboard in front. The maids interestingly transformed themselves into photographers who kept clicking random photos on their fancy cell phones. Daadi got busy with circulating some home-made namkeen and then, carefully sealing the mouth of the packet to prevent the ensuing moisture and sogginess of the snack. Our Driver, all this while fiddled through the glove box to extract the most favorite Beatles CD. Whose favorite? Driver’s favorite! Obviously, nothing plays in our car till it appeals to the refined tastes of our man-in-command.

The trail was lovely. The best part was that animals were visible and that too, in really good numbers. Mira, we could make out was completely ecstatic. She almost behaved like a drunk little person on the verge of collapsing, with her constant muttering of “Hhhhhhhhh”, “Oohhhhhhhh”, “Eehhhhhhhh” in the hoarsest of voices she could manage. The funny thing was that her reactions remained the same, no matter whether it was a beautiful bird in view or a dangerous tiger – probably she was just amazed by how life could manifest itself in such varied forms, sizes and colors; something which she was experiencing for the first time in her life.


We were happily cruising through this jungle path, when a lovely deer just decided to abandon his group and check out the occupants of our car. Can you see how close he got to our car, rather to the front seat where Papa & Mira were seated? Papa retrieved a bit in his seat, as the deer further neared himself to sniff/see/ lick both Mira & him. “That’s just a harmless deer,” I said mockingly as Papa unsuccessfully attributed it to his concern for Mira. Anyhow, we just drove past the animal and decided that it was time to be spectators (passive) to some of the recommended shows.

We went for the “Cowboy show”. Now, I wish that I could give you lucid flowing details about this but unfortunately, Mira was just not upto it. She insisted to be carried around while our entire team sat through the show with unabated attention. Though, Daadi and Papa did turn their necks over every now and then to sympathise with this sincere mom, both the maids were too caught up with the cowboys and their horses, to look away anywhere else. Mira had gone off to deep sleep as our impressed audience emerged out of the hall, leaving us with not much to do with the rest of the evening. And so, we decided to call it a day – a nice, happy interesting day.

And there we were – four reasonably large women with a sleeping toddler occupying the rear seat of the car while Papa made himself comfortable in the front seat along with the driver. It was a nice breezy journey going back home with a lovely Beatles CD playing in the background.

She is just like me - Yipee!

The fact is that it does upset me when people despite much cajoling, do confess that Mira is an exact copy of Papa’s and that there’s just no sign of me. It gets even worse when relatives promise to dig into old albums and seek out evidence – extract Papa’s childhood photos in specific poses to be placed against Mira’s, just to say – “Haina Beti ekdum Papa jaisee?, hmmm”

No, no - don’t get me wrong, Papa’s got a pretty decent face, features and stuff like that but you know, as a mom, you just feel left out. Nine months of unpredictable pregnancy, unbearable labor, never-ending feeding sessions, precious time kept aside for raising the baby, all done for what? – to see a day when one of your new acquaintances walks into the kids’ room of your building only to ask you with utmost honesty and innocence – “Hey, which one of these two is your daughter?”

But folks, finally there’s a reason to smile – some resemblance, though not really in the face, has started surfacing which proudly establishes Mira to be my daughter, much to the disappointment and chagrin of Papa.

One of these is our common unadulterated love for Besan ke ladoos. Yes, you got that right - Besan ke ladoos. It all started a few days back when my Mother-in-law visited us on her usual twice-a-year trip to Bangkok, all armed with home-made sweet weapons crucial to keep the daughter-in-law happy but unhealthy for long. Willingly giving in, I munched almost a full ladoo every day, with a curious Mira consistently insisting to have a share in this magical stuff. Not really sure if she would like it, I just smeared a few remnants on her lips and waited to see the reaction. Mira’s investigative look soon dissolved into amusement and there, I knew that I had finally found my lifetime ladoo partner in her. Since then, Mira toddles off to the kitchen every morning, goes on her toes, points at the top of the fridge, and says with the most endearing of expressions – “De do, De do”.

Our other similarity emerges from the way we treat our morning everyday, irrespective of how our previous night turned out. Mira usually gets up from her sleep, with a wide and happy smile. She stands up in her crib, grips it by her hands and does some nice cheerful babbling, while her bleary-eyed Papa looks up the clock in full denial. Though Papa has been relentless in rejecting this as an exclusive Mumma-Daughter trait, claiming that he too has been happy about mornings, even I have put my foot down this time and refused to be fooled by him. What happiness? The only emotion Papa exudes in the morning is that of curiosity – curiosity to know if Obama managed to inch ahead of Clinton?, if the US downturn is indeed recession?, or even worse, if the closest theater is still running his favorite Oscar nominees? There’s such hurry to consume news I tell you, that the poor happiness has just no place to survive!

Anyhow, coming back to the point, there’s one more similarity which kind of makes this Mumma-Daughter thing more amusing for me. And that is – the color of our hair. While Papa has got this black curly South Indian kind of hair, I flaunt 100% North Indian light brown straight hair. And absolutely, no points for guessing what color is Mira’s hair?

Well, these are the only commonalities which are apparent right now, but am sure, there are many more to come and am so very looking out for them. For the time being, I am just going to call up Papa’s relatives back home and update them on the latest similarities – what should I say, “Haina Beti ekdum Mummy jaisee?, hmmm”

Mummy & Mira - Part I

Mira’s favorite word these days is Kaoo (Cow). Since it’s difficult to talk about Kaoos the entire day, Mira is figuring out other ways to practice her newly acquired word.

Mira, Duddu or juice?
Kaoo

No Mira. Duddu or juice?
Kaoo

OK then, Mummy is going.
Kaoo

Kaoo

Kaoo

**************
“No Mira!”

Mira recklessly runs towards the TV, with a kitchen scrubber in one hand and a photo frame in the other.

“No Mira!”

She switches on the TV and smiles back mischievously as the screen takes a second to come on.

“No Mira!”

As her hair go absolutely erect with the charge on the screen, Mira nods her head vigorously and sways her arms enthusiastically to the tune of the anthem the channel plays solemnly in praise of the country’s king. Having put up a brief performance, Mira suddenly switches off the TV.

"Oh finally……..thank yoooo…………NO MIRA!.”

And the TV comes on again…….

**************
It’s evening.

Mummy is tired with her bits of house work, part-time office work and too much analysis of how life would shape up in the next 5 years – where would the family be?, will she able to work full-time?, how would Mira react to her absence? etc. etc.

Mira is in the kids’ room of the building – busy pushing some poor kid out of a yellow toy car so that she could ride it just for the 50th time – an absolutely reasonable request which for some vague reason is not met with equal enthusiasm by others.

Almost an hour passes by when the front door opens up suddenly.

And a cheerful Mira enters the dining room which has a glum Mummy seated right across with her hands firmly placed on the laptop and her eyes looking away into wilderness.

Mira’s eyes meet Mummy’s.

There’s a loud squeal as Mira runs uncontrollably towards Mummy – her unsteady feet going at the best rate they can manage, almost ready to declare a fall with each step they undertake. Mummy goes down on her knees and stretches her arms wide open as an excited Mira dives into them.

There is a moment of perfect harmony. It feels as if God is in his heaven and all’s just right with this unpredictable world.

And then, Mira spots the TV.

Three days without Mira

"Aren’t you getting late?," my mum-in-law asked alarmingly, as I frantically surfed the internet to locate some good lacquer shops recommended by various blogs on Vietnam. “Don’t worry. I always do my best in the eleventh hour,” I said confidently, as I turned off my laptop and ran through the last few things I was intended to complete before taking the flight a few hours away.

Everything was in order – my e-tickets printed, formal clothes ironed and carefully folded, laptop chord suitably placed and a decent stack of US dollars neatly inserted in my pocket purse. I was ready for the trip – my first ever official trip in the last 15 months since Mira was born. I was excited. Excited about going to a new country. Excited about going to a new country alone. Excited about the change – of having a schedule that just had meetings, presentations and brainstorming. After all, it was my first chance in a long time to put a face to my work – the work that I had been doing for a while now on a part-time basis from home.

“Mira’s cough hasn’t subsided,” mum-in-law intervened worriedly. If it doesn’t get better, she might get really cranky and tough to handle. “Don’t worry mummy,” I said encouragingly. Mira is recovering pretty fast. Also, she really likes her nanny and is used to being with her through most parts of the day. She won’t really miss me and before she knows, I’ll already be back. 3 days is no big deal, I assured Mummy and myself to some extent.

The journey began with a rough start. The plane was awfully cold and kept getting worse as a scantily clad woman next to me refused to turn off her air vent, giving me a bad running nose and a severe allergy. My mind had gone numb. There were absolutely no thoughts. I just wanted to get to my hotel and rest for the night before starting the next two days of insanely long meetings.

Day 1 started at 9 am. I made sure that there was enough time for me to call up home and check on Mira, before I left for the office. “How did she do in the night?,” I asked as mum-in-law picked up the phone in a single ring. Mira had never slept without me - though she lay separately on her cot every night but shifted to my bed as soon as she got up for some milk. Mum-in-law sounded better – “Oh, it was no issue at all,” she said. “She did get up once but the nanny was by her side. She handled her well. Don’t you worry and carry on with your work.”

I was calm and composed as I left for the office. The meeting went off well – there were people from different agencies presenting their plans and ideas for the year ahead. I made sure that I contributed my bit to the discussion. Though I carefully listened to each person talking, my mind kept wandering off to Mira every now and then. She would be getting ready for lunch - I thought as I sipped a cup of coffee with my new found colleagues. I talked about her to anyone and everyone with the slightest interest in kids. “I have left her alone for the first time,” I explained. My hosts nodded as I continued with her anecdotes and gave me some fabulous company for rest of the evening. I returned to the hotel happy and satisfied. Just two more days to go, I thought to myself.

The second day was not much different from the first one. There were key product updates followed by presentations and discussions. But, I was much more distracted than the day before, juggling between my thoughts about Mira and my keenness to work. There was a growing sense of sadness within me. I missed having Mira around, being a part of that innocent laughter and infectious cheerfulness. I missed running after her, playing with her or probably just being with her. But, there was a conflicting sense of satisfaction too. Satisfaction of standing up in a forum different from my comforting home. Satisfaction of being heard, challenged and cornered. Satisfaction of being a bit more than what I was to Mira and Papa at home.

I was thoroughly confused. The perennial question of getting back to a full-time job loomed strongly in my head. “Will I survive a cut-throat full-time job?” I wondered. “Could I keep up with the lengthy travel plans and the unpredictable office hours?” I struggled. Once again I left the decision to time. Taking comfort that it was not a question I had to answer immediately, I got back to the discussion. Raised my hand and made a point.

The third day was much more different. All my sadness and discomfort had transformed into excitement – the hurry to get back home was driving me mad. I reported at the airport much more in advance. There was an unexplained fear as I went through the counters. ‘Has my visa got over?’ – I worried when the officer took a second more to go through my papers. ‘Does the plane have a technical fault?’ - I fretted as the boarding got delayed by a couple of minutes.

But thankfully, all was perfectly fine and I reached back home well on time. I ran to Mira’s room as soon as I got in. “She just slept off,” my mum-in-law declared disappointedly. “We tried keeping her awake but she just couldn’t manage. All that walking must have tired her out and she finally went off to sleep, some 5 minutes back.”

I dropped my bags and headed towards the cot. As I looked at my baby in that dimly lit room – I wondered if she ever realized that I was gone or if I would ever be back? I saw that unparalleled peace on her face, her hair sticking together with the sweat in her head and her thumb comfortably thrust into her mouth. As I lay by her side, I felt a familiar sense of ease – the ease of getting back to a life I knew so well and I so much enjoyed being in. Now I impatiently waited for the day to begin - a new beautiful day that would have a cheerful Mira running all over the house and a smiling mom watching her with love and delight.

15 months later

15 months back, I remember myself anxiously staring at the vacant cot by my bed-side, wondering how its tiny occupant would look like. I remember imagining her in my thoughts – constructing and de-constructing her face some thousand times to reach that perfect look – the look that fairly resembles half of Papa’s and half of mine. I remember seeing her grow in my head – a curious little baby turning into a talkative mischievous girl.

And here I am, 15 months later – exuding a mix of emotions – lots of pride, tonnes of happiness and a bit of disappointment.

Pride and happiness for having a cheerful (touch wood!), smiling (touch wood!) and almost a tantrum-free (touch wood!) child. Mira has been quite an easy baby to manage so far – right from the time she was in me till now when she walks around the entire house with full authority; kitchen and bathrooms being her favorite hang out places. Not having realized that feeding Mira is one of Mummy’s top priorities and she would do it no matter what – Mira still obediently sits on her high chair, ready to be fed with a good proportion of carbohydrates and proteins, while she happily fiddles away with one of her latest toys.

Teddy bears have been her most favorite till now. It's absolutely amazing to see how this little Mira almost transforms into a loving mom when she sees a soft toy, specially a teddy bear around. She is careful to pick him up with both hands, hug him tightly and then, to keep kissing him till someone comes to rescue the poor bear while the besotted mom continues her mania.

Whether it is 3 in the morning or 5 in the evening, Mira begins to rattle off all the words she knows as soon as she gets up from sleep. Having said her very first word in the 14th month, Mira today flaunts a rich vocabulary of around a dozen words. She begins with Mama :-), Papa, Deedi and Daadi for the obvious reason that she interacts with them the most. Then, comes Mum Mum (Water) and Duddu (Milk) – absolutely essential for Mira’s 24 hour energy. Next are Boo (Book),Tata, Ca (Car) and Kaoo (Cow).

But, the best is "Nuo Nuo" (No No). Originally meant to deter Mira from certain acts or things, "Nuo Nuo" has assumed a new convenient meaning for this girl altogether. It's mostly deployed to communicate an act of mischief already committed rather than preventing her from indulging in it. Resultantly, we have a badly drenched undergarment, a filthy chappal in Mira’s hands or a mischievous arm in the dustbin – all followed by the appropriate "Nuo Nuo" and a stern to and fro movement of the finger.

While we are struggling to get "Nuo Nuo" back to mean what it is actually supposed to, we are also fighting Mira’s keenness to be a part of everything. Anything new that comes to the house – right from the bathroom cleaner to Papa’s confidential papers – Mira wants to ensure that they all go through her. All hell breaks loose when the laptop screen comes on and Mira realizes that the booting process had nothing to do with her. And so, we have some cruelly extracted keys and an extremely frustrated papa at the end of it all.

The only way to distract her is to switch on the TV and tune it to channel no. 29 – our good old BBC. While BBC means different things to different people, ranging from current affairs and business updates to weather forecasts and political scandals. For Mira – it is nothing but simple danceable music. She shakes her head and sways her arms as she carefully synchronizes her movements with this solemn tune.

Now if you find that strange – believe me there’s more to go! Realizing the need to sleep in a silent and dark environment, Mira has invented her own style of withdrawing from a brightly lit world as she retires for the day. She pulls all her hair on her face and thrusts her thumb into the mouth, making for the most comfortable posture she can possibly manage. Her long hair ensures that no figment of light penetrates through to her while her thumb pacifies her to no limits – both working cooperatively for a peaceful 10 hours sleep.

As I see my little angel falling off to sleep, I almost feel my third emotion creeping in slowly – the feeling of disappointment. Disappointment for how Mira is an exact copy of Papa and there is just no sign of me – not the eyes, not the nose, not the lips, not the hair and not even the nails! Somewhere – at least somewhere I need to be visible in her, has been my usual complaint. While Papa has managed to win handsomely on the looks parameter, we are now fiercely competing on the popularity contest. “Who does Mira love more – Papa or Mummy?”is the next question on our minds – goes without saying that I am preparing hard, really hard this time.