Return Ticket

It is just about
4 days now after returning to Doha from India. Was a long vacation for me , of
close to 2 months and I ensure I do that each summer. When I wrote the first
sentence I actually counted with my fingers, friday..saturday...and Tuesday today
is only the 5th day in Doha. But seemed longer. Much longer. And this is
what strikes the difference for us. 

We wait for
summer every year to book out tickets to India. More, more, we want more number
of days there and we click on the return date as delayed as possible. Yet it
happens that these days just whoosh past making a lot of memorable noise and we are all set with Return Ticket
in hand!

Then.....

Few years ago,
my daughter was barely 4 years of age, when I was working, and I had enrolled
her into summer vacation classes in Doha. One morning after talking to Chandrika, my
friend who was leaving to Mumbai for long vacation (I had only 20 days
sanctioned from my office) I casually asked my girl. "You will go to ajjis
house? Alone? Chandrika auntie will take you in big flight and drop you
there."

She instantly answered in affirmative with twinkle in her eyes and
brushing them shyly. And I clearly remember the frock she wore, where she was seated in the living room, and how she seemed so excited after that, humming and talking to her dolls and hopping all round the house.

Then I held her and asked repeatedly. She showed me her
bag and insisted she would go!

I still remember
my informing this  to  Chandrika and my hubby. Both
were surprised and eager. But as the flight departure was soon enough on the
same day, online booking was closed. Chandrika and her husband Dinesh ran down
to air lines office and purchased a ticket for minor while we arranged no
objection letter for minor child to travel with friend. After 2 hours I was
suddenly anxious. She was only 4!. What was the hurry to send her only on the
basis of her excitement? But what put me back right was I was doing all right! My
best friend was taking her. My sister was picking her at Mumbai airport. And my
mother was going to take care of her in India. So what could be wrong. Nothing.
I was convinced.

And yes, she
excitedly packed her pink bag, favourite clothes and left with a happy good
bye.



Even today my family take it up lightly as a moral story for the younger kids who
get cranky even to eat or sleep. "Look at Jui akka, she came to India alone at 4. Played here, ate and slept all by herself without sticking to amma or paapa"! 

That was the
beginning. She is now 15 and younger one 5, and I always ensure my kids have
spent ample time of their holidays in the company of family members in India, seen the
life there, don't cry seeing the lizards and mosquitoes. 

Now, my daughter
who is 15 laughs when my son mentions Manipal as India and then Bengaluru or
Mangalore are called by their respective names. But there was a day she too did just
that. Going to India meant going to granny's place. And that was Manipal.

Ask her now, and
she has cherished memories from those summer vacation times. Small things mused
her. The touch me not plant, the cows at the gate, beggars singing with odd
musical instruments, frogs in monsoon puddles or the centipedes curling up here and there. 

And so as a
ritual, this summer too I was there. In India. Precisely in Manipal. For more
than 3 weeks.  My son is now 5. And it is
enjoyable to notice he too enjoys India the way my daughter did. The same fun
tricks played in monsoons. In fact they are getting better and better. From
not fearing the mosquitoes to not fearing a cobra hardly 1 foot away from them.
Yes. Indeed.

I was taking
kids for a stroll in the afternoon when rain had slowed down with sun showing
its way a bit. It was then my eyes noticed the creepy crawling greenish long
thing. I stopped. I pointed at it and told kids, walk fast. But they stopped.
To have better look. By then I noticed it was yellowish, crawling too slowly and rising its hood, all signs it was a cobra. My daughter confirmed it first.
It is a cobra amma she said.

That's it. My son's proficiency about creatures was alerted (yes,
and he has surprisingly unbelievable knowledge about creatures). It was me who was frightened, of the aesthetics (overgrown weeds with creepy insects over our head) may be for security of the
kids, and asked them to move on. This nagarpanchami while I was unable to visit the temple due to a death in the
family, I almost was lucky to have the darshan of the Nag right where I was. This is what my elders at home told me. Pity, in the anxiety, did not bother to take a picture of  it, though I had my phone right in my pocket. 

 

Now....

But then aren’t
holidays about creating memories other than visiting lovely destinations, and
clicking beautiful pictures? I do have vague pictures of the
enchanting paddy fields with lush green shoots, few peacocks and pea hens. At
times when my car is full of kids, mine, those of my siblings, the kids find
pleasure in nothing but a long drive in the rains to the Suvarna river, on the uphill and down hill
roads literally squealing  “wee” and, pointing at random cow pooping on the roads, or a dog
barking at my car. 

Well, I must tell this. Genetics go quite strong.



I told this to my daughter this holiday when she insisted I show her Udupi Krishna Temple, take stroll around, show her my school, without her pesky brother chattering and howling. Why I said, genetics here, is that this was what I loved doing in my growing years. Going to the temple hall, listening to the "Madhva Pravachans" with my bestie Anu, writing scholar exams conducted by the "Mutths".  There is something special about walking around these Mutths when the speakers faintly play spiritual mantras and a group of devotees sitting around singing loud bhajans. And this is exactly what my girl feels too. "I love the vibes" she said, hopping around like a baby.



And overall, I love the "vibes" when, the kids enjoy "my town" the way I do!,  love eating in temples, or the local delicacies, just the way I do!



Most friends in Doha enquire with me about Manipal that they have heard as the International town, or educational town, especially after seeing the pictures of the rural landscape that I post. This is the best blend in my town that the town was originally a forest and just few kilometers crossing the town borders are well spread rural areas. We have temples nestled in paddy fields surrounded scantily by woods where I often take kids to watch peacocks. And my family and friends knows the place by the name "kecop (peacock) jungle" as named by my 5 year old.



Well, all said and done, there is so much life covered in these few days. Neither can words match them, nor any pictures. That is what a holiday in India is for my  NRI kids. Enjoy the monsoons and grab the return ticket back to the sand dunes before the school begins. 😃



A short post after a long time, let me know if you found it interesting.✋💛

From Toon Times To Teen Times

An amazing cake, courtesy Just Bake Mangalore

And again, aren't we are all parasites of nostalgia? 

I was perturbed, recollecting how and when it was that, SHE outgrew my lap to be a owner of laptop,

from cartoon watching to reading books on politics and history, from world of barbies and Disney Land to a teenager with a guitar, from mamma papa girl to a new little own world with her own vision for her future.

My daughter turned 13 this year and please stop guessing my age.

Thirteen, is awesome? Troublesome? 

Whatever, it is, dear moms reading this,

You have a statutory warning,

Never ever prowl and sneak into your teenage daughter's room and flick those branded creams. And if you have, please don't try applying them immediately in sheer hurry without a proper glance into the mirror or the tube in your hands. You might end up smearing some meswak toothpaste instead of vicco-turmeric cream on your cheeks.

With age comes wisdom I heard. Never let it go whenever it comes. Hold it tight to cash it up. For you would face crisis of emotional bankruptcy at times.  You need it the most with the teen aged pair of eyes that keeps track your footsteps, analyzes your overall decibels,  masters the apprehensions how you will react or not before even you know about it. THEY know it better than you. Now this is the age, they understand parenting better than us. Mind it. Remember when we were in  high school and we were damn sure amma was actually wrong when she warned us not to wander alone with friends on the streets. 

Bingo. It's your turn. Now your teenage child knows how you could be a better mom or a better dad.

Mine had a sound advice for her dad in the Birthday card she presented him last week. My husband laughed his heart and then came running to me like a kindergarten child requesting me to actually explain all the words that were dancing in the card given to him. I advised him to take off from work and work on the advice given by his daughter. Why should I apprehend ideologies of a teenager and fall prey in the dad- daughter drama when I had more tasks in my basket.



Verbal combats with teenager and nuclear wars have one things in common. Destruction. Being wiser is to remain a smiling silent puppet till they return promptly to you once all cranky tantrums are thrown off. I recommend a new Nobel Prize being introduced for the moms of teenagers. It is for the best service in "Teenager handling, coping mechanism". And this reminded me of some funny meme a friend once posted on FaceBook. It said " It is sometimes better to keep a dog as company at home when you have a teenager".



Often, on several occasions we bump into discussions on how kids are faring at their academics and how many medals and trophies they have brought home. It is seldom that a discussion revolves around life skills. While a few of us are intellectually stubborn about raising children or culturally bound, we can still make room for some pampering, some luxury and those extra hours of fun. While most are busy arranging a book shelf to the kid, a few are happy with a new WhatsApp story telling App. Our world is changing. We grew up under granny's watchful eyes of how many television hours we got. Currently the trend is pretty much the same. Just the pair of eyes are changed. We are still under watchful eyes of teen aged children scrutinizing how many television hours we take while they can hog on that many number of hours on their gadgets too. Equality is the motto.



Please excuse me. I am such a dolt. But, I would love celebrating my child's birthdays with a handful of Orphanage kids where she would be monkeying around with them. I would not hesitate to take the teenager to a psychiatric ward visiting a relative where in she faces life's realities and not confine her to the pink and purple painted walls of her room decorated with stuff from Ikea. Life's education begins here and ends in books. It can not start and end with books alone.



Huh. Raising a teenager requires life skills indeed. But truly they are the real pets. Best companion for a parent. You bestow your gifts of values on them an you shall be surprised receiving some most unexpected return gifts from them. There is a child in them you  want to pamper. There is a adult in them that accompanies your thought process. You can dance with them, play with them or even quarrel with them.



And among all the hustle bustle, stomping, banging doors, the headphones plugged in the ears, our constant counselling and verbal lectures, agreeing to disagreeing, we grow together into our better selves. 

Stop-See, Little Girl's Glamour

This isn't first time I go on with  my prefect "mommy philosophy" after I wrote "Thank Her Why's, "Mamma I am Rapunzel, Barbie and the Pink and many more.

Introducing another "avatar" of my little one who is not that little for the world though. She can dress on her own, do her hair, dance in front of mirrors for hours. So much so that I at times need to imitate her school teacher yelling at student calling out her full name- like a roll call in the morning class! And then a faint''oh did you call me?" will be the meek response.

Besides, her wardrobe is sure a mesmerizing exhibition piece that I can turn on to show my guests when there isn't much to talk.



I have some great friends who help me out with ideas pouring on how to keep this busy mind going in holidays. She can shoot questions on me aiming the rifle right over my head, and at times be lost in her cozy play world with a new apparel every hour, a different handbag, some branded sun glasses that her dad bothers to pick for her. Neither is my dog not is her toy "Minnie Mouse" spared when it comes to "dressing up".



Winter's all on its prowl and the school declaring its holiday, I thanked Indiblogger for introducing this mind blowing contest. Apart from the real shopping, I let my little one- "J"  into a virtual shopping tour to fix up some real real goody woody thingies as she calls them. Feel pretty, happy, and nice.

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With few clicks away from her fantasy world as my girl entered her virtual shopping tour into www.shopperstop.com here is J's version in her words. STOP. For her  perfect look strategy.

I love this top for its colour and my favourite character's name being on it. Wow, Barbie. The skirt is in a delightful shade of pink with floral design. I love mini skirts. I have mad craze for handbags and so does my wardrobe. This little handbag is just perfect for me..like I love this thingy.  Choosing one pair of sandals is like a life times job for me. This pink sandal is apt for me this winter holiday. I could show off my nail polish too. The hair accessories are colourful and am going to use them only with this set of apparel. ummm cant wait to try my cat walk and each time my mom screams her lungs out not to act "too much"!.

Thumb Held

Picture Courtesy Google

Gathering bits of pearls that sparkle on the path of the memory lane, worth the nostalgic efforts and making the grand lace of memoir is what I seriously love doing and redoing any number of times. The bits of pearls are those times of my good old past/ a recent past, and the grand lace will be this entire post.

Well in mid thirties today, and is definitely the phase as I muse over the past, that taught me all this while the lessons of life and nevertheless to mention the important part of all this happens to be the childhood. There have been countless moments countless thoughts in my mind on the subject and more so as I saw my seven year old grow up. I happily abandoned my career for a phase of 3 years and spent the best part of my life with J[Lets shorten her name so for you]. I have absolutely no words to express this yet penning down few moments might exhaust my dictionary but not the feelings. They are immortal. 

Courtesy:Google

Again I muse where do I begin, as the thoughts have been randomly bubbling throughout in my mind to the extent that shaping it into one lace is my job now! That phase of J grow up has been the times I feel myself in my best as a woman, mother and a daughter too. Feeling like a mom and feeling a mom was really enchanting and learning period. I am caught in act of pursuit of my reflection in every activity of J.

The best co-incidence was in me and J spending our year 1 to year 3 close to the Konkan-coast. It seems I was taken down to the sea-shore that was just 1 kilometer on back our residence in my age 2. The repeat version of this was when J grew up playing every evening in the sands of Surathkal  beach. Obviously I don't remember the monkeys of north Karnataka robbing another robber. Age 3, I would just abscond with the "milk powder" box  and one day only to be robbed away by a monkey on the mango tree who prowled on me sitting in balcony relishing milk powder. But my parents can laugh  at it even today. Even worst was when I decided to run away leaving my dads hands only to be chased by a bull and return sobbing to my dad. They muse me today, as I point my index at J, as her punishments for her little pranks. All the footwear lined up beautifully in shoe rack would mesmerize her onto either tasting them or strewing them around in my living room or hurl some down the balcony. If she was found missing I had interesting places to find her. Inside her wardrobe, near the washing machine enjoying the sound as it ran, under my huge rosewood dining set lost under the opened news paper of her dad. At times even the pooja room where she would find different instruments  that made sound or even colours [kumkum and haldi that are used by Hindus-check info here]. Not much unbelievable but at age 2 I would rock myself front and back listening to bhajans, and contrasting to it was J's upbringing listening to audio and video CD's of nursery rhymes.

Our preadolescent times punishments were surely adventurous. My olden times ancestral house had a huge attic for stocking tender coconuts illuminated by a old rusty bulb and had only a 2x4 foot door space & was the place I would be threatened to kept in for the pranks that I played and also for unattended food! My grandmother would create a havoc when one morning she would discover a missing tumbler in her bathroom that I hid, or her missing Vicco turmeric cream that too which I would squeeze out and use all over my body,  or my grandpas missing hawai's found in the study drawers!! But today my J isn't a tom boy like me. Either she isn't or she is busy for that! She attends art and Ballet classes in disciplined fashion unlike how we grew up.  She's unable to imagine with exact gravity, how could we ever make mud balls and call them laddoos, or simply jump into neighbour's compound when it was play time. How could one go without giving a  call first, she exclaims today.

There was always a difference. I had purely been open to the nature, playing in the big coconut yards, on the guava trees [they were easy to climb and had nicely made up kind of branches to settle down playing even a game like scrabble!].  I could peep into the open well, even pull water from it at age 13. My J has more luxirious options of her electronic gadgets, intellectual ideologies of play and playmates, internet and Google and so on. She has the whole digital and online world and for me was the totally offline environment with fresh air and lot of free time. Quite a few of my older posts here & there do have plenty of mentions of particular pasts.



Life goes on. And I continue to flow with it. Switching roles and comparing them being a mother and a daughter, from the time  she held my thumb. A real 100 % experience, that can neither be felt by the words that described them here not could be re-felt  with same gravity. They are golden days. Only to be cherished today. Memoirs revoked by my little one who held my thumb.

Cheers,

Sush

Revenge

This post has been published by me as a part of the Blog-a-Ton 22; the twenty-second edition of the online marathon of Bloggers; where we decide and we write. To be part of the next edition, visit and start following Blog-a-Ton.

Writing shoots out tremendously by instance to me. The instance when any event, thought mesmerises me, I cant wait till pen it down on my blog. I have been repeting that I can write on any to many things. Memoirs form major part of writings.

As is a weekend , today we made the usual overseas calls to our family back in India and as usual my daughter ['J' for you ] showed all anger on my parents over the phone. She had a reason this time!



Thats exactly what you will read about below and I would call it "her sweet revenge on her grandparents".



April 29th  of 2011 was a much awaited day for me, my husband and my daughter. My parents flew that day to visit us from India. Each year we wait spending time with them, and this time an longer period planned fascinated all of us. Oh! This and that we shopped. New set up at home. What not.  Moments with grand parenst for my J is absolutely heavenly. The pampered girl went crazy with their arrival.



Some one to sit beside her in her play room always. Listen to all her chatters to blabbers. Her funny tantrums filled them with joy. The Ballet concert of J was one day they rejoiced. Proud girl with proud grand parents. They visited her school during open house. Met her teacher.

So many outigns were planned. Literelly planned on planner, hand written, yes mind it. All went accordingly and days passed by. Fine.

Occassionally my husband would tease me by saying Iam surviving some very good food till my Mother in law is here.



So what is that still marks the "revenge" as suspense? Please continue reading for that.



Yes, days passed by. Social parties with good party, games, fun happenned too. And 40 days passed after their visit. It was a Friday morning J was droped by me to a drawing competetion [on which she won a prize too]. I was driving when I received a unusual call from India. Had to attend it and the news that I was given stunned me.

Some things like the hard bare truth of life, yet so hard, yes, to digest when it actually happens.

I had to rush home, break the news to my parents. Alas. My dad had lost his dad, this morning. Yes. The moments cant be described in words, niether is my post a focus on it. A sudden hustle bustle to pack, buy tickets for the evenig flight to India all happened in 2 hours. Soon was the time for J to return from her painting competition.

What would I explain her? All time in the car she jumped excitedly explaining to me her experience of the morning, her friends she met, and what not. My ears were all to her, yet the matter dint sink in. Something else deeply hurt my heart and mind. And how would I ever convince the girl who bid good bye that morning to her grand parents who were sleeping about their bags packed in the next couple of hours?  All set to fly back, so suddenly!

The moment she realised this, she flared with anger, irritation. Wept. Alright. A phase. Death as a concept, emergency as a matter were tough facts to digest for the 7 year old. She stormed into thier room often. A trauma of emotions crept into her. An sad air swept around us. House seemed cold in the hot summer. Quite , dull and cold. Food untouched. J woudnt budge from her word. "Why are you going suddenly?  I hate you. I am not comming to India this summer". She declared to the already sad old couple after loss of their 90 year old dad. That was her sweet revenge she declared on them.

With both of us working, she has always spent her summer holidays of school with grand parents in India alone.

Today it is 35 days after that uneventful day and J maintains her revenge. She dint actaully fly to India. As she spends her summer here first time in the past 5 years, I made several attempts in explaining her about death. The reason that made her grandparents leave our house so suddenly. Today J seems so unerstanding and wise. Proud of you  sweet little angel.

The sweet revenge she planned, gave me time to explain her a concept of life, rather the end of life, a certain death to any living being on this planet.

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Ingredients of 50th Post

Body exhausted, tummy famished, so was the mind almost. Yet, today evening as I walked home from work I had decided I wanted to complete my 50th post. The tea that my cook made had a spoonful of sugar more than normal, but that's how I like it too. 

So perhaps the extra dose of sugar made the trick.

Past fortnight was interesting on personal front. Birthday of my little one, My new office, my new cook at home and so on I go. 

Oh No-Don't Worry I will not crib on this now- read on further for the real interesting stuff I write

The comparison of the B'day event:

My daughters [J] 7th B'day turned out be great fun with all kids joining hands having fun. We have to admit that their  exotic frolic does pin us envious. I was always fondly promised a beautiful clothing each B'Day  mostly stitched by my mom. J this time had seven sets from Thailand gifted by her dad all for a B'Day. Huh. the image and aroma of the home made cake baked my my mom still fumes in my mind. This time J's cake was a "Barbie" herself. The cake box occupied entire 2 seats at the rear of my Land Cruiser.  Enough space indeed. Rest of the rear filled up with the big bags of return gifts. Way back home this being replaced by her B'day gifts by 35 friends! The popular Mc.Donald B'Days are definitely so tempting to any adult too. Somewhere I feel it is more of a ritual especially in the middle east when you hear some one saying, 'Oh we havent planned anything this bday for our child, so it will just be an Mc.Donald party for kids". No offense- dear friends of Doha. We love it anyway.

The new job for me is being nice, challenge and interesting. New faces, New Mumbaiya boss to handle! Huh. All new. Only relief is the new cook at home for me as a big boon in maintaining my time schedule.

Summer's flaring up here in middle east and most people are busy planning holidays outside this zone. Most India flights are flying full already. So much so that we find the "air-port signal' blocked in particular timings especially weekends. Indians are running home for the rains. Alas, we are stuck here this summer rewinding memories of the America visit last summer. The frosty  NY weather still seems so fresh and tempting.  

Now awaiting the holy month of Ramadaan! Being an Arab country the holy month of Ramandaan sees people religiously and promptly fasting and praying most of the time. The main attraction being the reduction in work timings to half. A month of relaxing at work.

The very thought injected more energy into me tonight to finish this post successfully. Here I complete just 50 posts in the 8th month of writing my blog.

Signing off

Cheers,

Sush, Khush.

I love Barbie and Pink

Colour colour which colour do you wish to choose?

"Pink" Pat came the reply. My little daughter's [J] room was found painted pink the next day! J [J for Jui my daughter] loves all in pink. All possible things....yes.

Why  of-course this colour is tagged for them. If you happen to see a new born in hospitals wrapped in pink, don't take trouble to know the sex of the baby. Its her. And its him if the wrapping is blue. A distinct colour association methodology begins here in their birth place and the journey continues. So much so that, J cannot digest even a writing pencil in blue. Ohhh its "boys" colour. Huh. two years ago our lovely pet love birds "Ace and Angel" joined our family, entering royally in their "pink cage". Thankfully  multicolored bird feed aren't available to me here.

In this barbie era it isn't surprising J finds fantasy for barbies. A whole lot of them have filled up her room, her mind. Name a item and she has it. All in pink. These slender cute dolls dress in pink, eat in pink. J defines her own barbie world with pink toy castles , two of them rather. Furnished castles, with their own tea-sets, closets, cloth hangers, loo with "cute pot" and what not.  Needless to mention the colour now?

Insistingly  she will point at anything in pink. from the  toys, clothes, to her handbags or school bags . We have gotten used to the pink world as she grows. Her luminous essence of choice has gotten into us stubbornly well. There isn't another choice either. As you enter her zone/her room you not only stare at pink walls but also other paraphernalia. Amazing.













Art is one pure element of human happiness that trains mind through eye and eye through mind. Art colours life. J is quite enthusiastic about art, drawing and painting and loves it. An organised portfolio in this link also adds to her passion. It was in her age 2 times, she would scribble one page with maximum possible colours, clap and stare at it and it would all fascinate her. Hardly 27 months old she was. J returned from her play school to excitedly about her drawing book. A happy apple and a sad apple was drawn and both were coloured quite neatly to earn a good from her teacher. Only thing that made us laugh was the apples that had turned pink ! I had to remind her this incident after 5 years last week when she came laughing at a small kindergarten girl who painted a parrot pink in a drawing competition. Girls..girls! 





As I mentioned how the pink sinks in so much within us these days that today's incident is worth mentioning. My hubby away on business trip is shopping for us and called me this morning for my choice of bags and few clothes. Repeatedly pink, pink. I burst out from my office, actually furious, why am I "pink-framed". Huh. He then suddenly realized. "I love Barbie and pink" he joked.

The tales of pink are unending.....................

If I had to think about my favorite colour I mused, I don't have one. But yes, green does fascinate me all time. Perhaps because of the love for plants. Quite crazily I change the background of my blog overnight in different greens. Guys who have been noticing this might have found it amusing? 

Visual perceptions of beholders eyes can fancy different sensitivities towards things the eyes see. A rainbow appearing most beautiful to a pair of eyes might fade after a moment and look more gorgeous if it were a Zebra.

At times the sky appears soothing. But I can imagine the sky clad with a rainbow coloured Saree with arms spread..........colours can set wings to imaginations. Colourless will not do less. But yes, colours can set wings to imaginations.....................







I read somewhere, "Laundry is the only thing to be separated by colours".............





My post dedicated to the HP Laser Jet [Click here] sponsored contest: "Take Flight with colours". The ultimate machine filling colours in your papers. 

Manipal Rains

It poured cats and dogs.

She loved it as heart sang,

Oh rain dont go away rain,

I like the wind blow, the water flow.

The rains...let it pour, I love it to its core.

From heaven poured happy showers.

Of which the green member too is a lover. Wee, sings the tree, in mirth.

Poor Peahen,

Lost in rains, wonder when.