Simply One Afternoon Story

Look for the green afternoon bat!!

Outdoor games were a regular norm some years ago and indoor games were considered not a typical tendency. How the trend reversed now! Thriving in the generation of gadgets, "planning" outdoors is what seems like a luxury. For the very fact that it has to be "planned".

Like in 1990's we as kids simply belonged to the front yards or streets or parks, and an indoor game had to be "planned". At least true in my case. And my old buddies would be smiling reading this.



Once upon a time, indoor games were a luxury. Outdoors were the norms.



Last week, it was simply an afternoon affair in the park for me. Regular playtime for my 6-year-old Kukku. I had to ensure he is addicted to the outdoors to rest the television. While YouTube could be educative, some of the channels that are being run in the names of children, do not convince me anytime.



Sitting in the park, on my yellow torn chair I was hitting
the laptop keyboard vigorously. It was pleasantly cool winter noon, at 3pm.  I had to hog on some sunlight for Vitamin D as ordered by my
orthopedician. Kukku pedalled his cycle hard, like some policeman on duty. 

Just then he
noticed a group of boys flying an aeroplane 
made of thermocol. Kukku cleverly parked his bicycle near theirs and with hands in pockets moved close to them. The next moment the toy pane landed on the ground kukku grabbed it and flew it off stylishly saying, "Hey guys look at this."! Whooosh the plane made a nice little fly, took two turns and landed on the ground.  Boys clapped. Except for one boy. It was his plane. And how could kukku make himself a hero there while he was hogging the limelight with other boys around him asking him to share the toy!

However, they continued to play. Whenever he got a chance kukku picked and flew the plane and somehow he made it better and better. Just then, the mother of the toy plane owner walked up to them and asked for the plane from kukku. From a distance, I was smiling, wondering kukku should not be poking his nose there. However, I thought too soon. The mother called out to his son, "Mel, look at the technique how this boy flies. Come on". Handing the plane back to Kukku she made some gestures and kukku nodded fiercely. 

The next 2-3 take off's happened with kukku teaching some techniques to Mel how to hold the plane, the direction of the wind, etc. Finally, I noticed Mel smile. In no time, Mel made a fantastic take-off, and I could see all boys run enthusiastically. The cold war between the plane owner and the uninvited guest ended.

My laptop had gone to sleep. I let it be. With hands-on chin which is my favourite style, I noticed these fantastic pilots. After running around with the plane, finally, they got on their bicycles and pedalled away for few rounds around up and down the slopes,  and the curves in the park.

 A few days later, we had an uninvited visitor at my door. I do not generally react to the doorbell, kukku attends to it, as most times the army of young boys march in looking for him to play in the park.  No time or season stops them. And today, Mel was at the door "Can kukku play with me"?

Looked like the boys had their share of the sweet lesson on the ups and downs of comradeship.



The gen-next is obsessively overwhelmed with gadgets, the fingers can't stop fidgeting with smart screens. So did I think.  But it definitely isn't true for all.



As goes the saying "more the merrier", kukku and gang have been growing in number. Irrespective of nationality or any biases.



My victory is over those video channels on YouTube run in the name of children which mainly market toys and other related stuff. Marketing of branded toys and products could be a bright idea, but I keep Kukku at safe distance from such channels. I still do not mind kukku hanging upside down a 5-foot tall tree trunk like a bat!



So this was simply a one-afternoon story. Many such are lost, untold. 

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.✋💛

Who Says Times Can't Be Relived

Image Source; Google

I am sure, it is an easily agreeable fact that, when we just want to get out of our monotonous routines, we look back. Be it flipping picture albums, talking of past to our family members or listen to some music, specially the old classics.



Well, when it came to this morning mood, two things mused me to re-write this old post.

1. Looking back at my very old posts, this one from 2010 tempted me to re-polish it and share.

2. As I take a stroll in the sprawling lawns in my residential community where the kids are occupied playing different games in the open, a few adults crib we do not have a play pen for kids. "What more did we want than this much open area available while our urban towns are stuffed with only artificially turfed play pens? Also a good turnout of kids who play every evening. In fact I moved here, only for this luxury for my kids!"

As for my growing years in school,in our good old days, most often the playground was our streets. We were a dozen of romping horses on the community streets, mixed majority of girls and boys, with all the under 15 united in a gang.

How many of you can easily connect to these games we played? Names are endless, at the same time, they are close to me when written in native language! 

Kere-Dada; Kuntebille (Hopscotch); Chowkabaara; Dodge-Ball; Knocking the tower of stones ; Kabaddi ; Fire in the mountains; Dog and the bone; Kho-Kho; Running a cycle tyre all on the streets with a stick;

How many of you have called the spirits? Still wonder where did some of such creepy games originate? 

Do remind me of any such game that you want to share. Of all, I would say, the random nameless ones were always the best. Running after one another, specially in the rains, or picking up wild berries far in the areas close to the fields. 

I recall, more funnier games where-in we simply enacted the television soaps. The detective Byomkesh Bhakshi, or the creepy Kile Ka Rahasya, the He-man or the Shakthimaan which came much later in 1990's. Though the traditional games have almost lost their identity, this trend surely has not changed much, though the difference is the animated and cartoon version have their own magnitude and influence.



Jumping between compounds of the row houses was just a  custom.  Especially when we played hide-and-seek, the favourite game. We were allowed to religiously intrude into someone's terrace, between another's guava tree branches, or the  garage. Scared the squirrels on the trees, chased snoopy the catty and many more. Street dogs hated this gang and never wandered anywhere close to these hurricanes!

Screaming at loud decibels, was mandatory. No neighbour was annoyed. In fact these pepped up every body's evening tempo. No kids or no noise just haunted everyone.

In small territory, we bustled covering miles. Screamed at top of the vocals; sweating piggish; called each other names like 'fatty, swollen cheeks, egghead, duffer'; made faces out of anxiety; also seldom banged and bumped into quarrels. Am sure many of the graduate schools have adapted games from the rural -traditional games. They sure were good communication and personality building games then.

And needless to say, we compare the current times to the old, call those games quite productive where the best part was the connection. Connection between the children. By my experience, I bet it was the factor that effected our strong bonding that even today I can connect to many friends, irrespective of age. Those many of whom I even connect on Face Book may have been one of my play mates but our bonding meant a lot.



Having said that, talking of comparison, yes, I find myself smiling with a strange essence of satisfaction when I see both my kids wandering in the lawns with their cycles. Playing random games with the bunch of children irrespective of age, come back with mud packed clothes, sweating and tired. 

Last night, when my 4 year old walked inside the house exhausted, almost ready to crash on bed, telling me "give me food" is when I feel, "yes. this was how we were..so we want our kids to re-live some of our moments". Somewhere, yes, we all are greedy that way. And I am.



So who says, times can't be relived!

Why I Purchased Plums Today

Picture source

Where we not told stories in our childhood? I was read stories from Amar Chitra Katha, from Leo Tolstoy's books,  and those Russian magazines of  Masha. I still feel those soft strokes I gave to the A3 sized board books of "Masha And The Bears", dad would bring from his office library. Over a period, I happen to retain few stories in my mind that mom read to me and one of my childhood favourite  was the "Plum hannina vaate" meaning the seed of the plum fruit, in kannada.  The story originated from Leo Tolstoy's book but was translated in some Kannada book. Unfortunately, I can not recall the name of the book.

Plums in the eighties were those luxury fruits that made it's appearance in the fruit vendors shop once in a while. That first time when the fruit and the book with the story both arrived home together mom had read this story to us.

"One day Raju's  mom purchased some plums from the market. Plums were a rare product then. It was a big catch and a golden fruit haul by mom.  She  carefully washed them and arranged them in a basket to be eaten by entire family together after dinner. 

Raju the youngest among the 5 children, could not withhold his curiosity.  He polished his tongue every time he saw the ripe crimson red fruit in the basket. Though he had never tasted them before, mom's treatment to the fruit made him realize it indeed was something unique. Tiny inquisitive mind was soon up to mischief as he grabbed one of them and relished it alone hiding in  a corner of the house. Then gleefully hiding all his euphoria he sat at the dinner table. 

Now dad noticed the count of the golden fruit and  immediately announced "children, who ever has stolen the fruit, please tell me urgently. Because the seed that you have swallowed will grow into a tree in your stomach and branch out of your ears and nose next morning. We must not let it happen".

Dad had nailed it. Soon Raju admitted his mistake and the family laughed out aloud but with a lesson for Raju and all the children on not to be greedy and also honesty is best policy. "

How cute. We had a big fancy for the fruit as well as the stories my mom narrated to us in childhood. Also I have to pass on the legacy to my children and stories are one thing that keeps my hyper active four year old son quite on a couch. He can listen to a dozen of them at once and blink at me and his books constantly. While I picked a few plums this morning from the hyper-market it unexpectedly brought back my memories and also added a story onto my cart for my son. 

Gone are the days of grandpa, grandma stories. We have gadgets replacing them to my dismay. We often end up in this discussion of bookish education and those of values of humanities. And I give a thumbs up to reading books to the children or narrating them stories from life. 

-----------

This is a flash post today. Anybody having good suggestion for story books for my kid please do leave a comment with title of book and the author.

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. 

Mug Printing On The Sonny Day

You and I may have different experiences, but definitely the same jubilant emotions, very same euphoric moments.

Those few minutes of midnight that I spent in the  singing van with multicoloured lights called "Ambulance" brought a new light of life inside me; I did not know I was changing to be a new person in those few minutes.; I lost my voice for a minute; My closed eyes saw images of my mom and dad smiling; Only some tinkling noise of a glass bottle twined up with pipes to my arms, woke me up to catch a faint glimpse of the royal hospital exteriors; Yes the government hospital of Doha, Qatar, was nothing less than a royal palace. 

THIS MONTH MY LITTLE FELLOW TURNED 3

Happy Birth-days are not like the other 364 days. That's one day where we feel extremely special and want to pamper ourselves and celebrate the day we came into existence on this earth. The joys multiply when all our near and dear ones too join in to sing some notes.

We all have a perspective towards birthday celebrations. Quietly slip off to a gateway destination, make some noisy party in our residences, or a quiet dinner with family and friends. Well, we would have tried almost all types. 



This month my little fellow turned 3. We decided to simply celebrate it in his Nursery with his buddies. The enthusiasm was not allowing us to fade it out into a simple one. And hence the preparation began. Goodies to all little children, the grand pink rose cake from Opera House (pink is my son's favourite colour) his new pink attire and a coat. Ah, now this idea of the mug printing for his loving teachers. When all preparations were at our finger tips, finally the mugs were done too and  arrived to be placed in the middle of a table in our drawing-room.


That night, as I finished my chores and duties, and was about to put off the last pole of lamp light, I took a glance at those mugs shining on the table. The time of night triggered me to dive into some time capsule, reach out to those moments again. Those, of exact three years ago when he was born. 


One night three years ago, he was just expected yet. With a heavy baby bump when I had just pushed myself into a slumber did I wake up abruptly at witching hour of 2 AM. I knew, I just knew it was that time for him to arrive. I acted as quickly as like any chemical reaction,  pinched my better half that was snoring softly on the other side of the bed. The ambulance arrived in like an instant "abracadabra". 7th minute I was inside the big multicoloured van with a singing siren,  huffing, puffing and managing myself onto the smell of the liquids and other medicated stuff inside. Immediately I took to admiring the interiors of the ambulance. It was my first time. The nurse beside me asked several questions, took notes and offered some additional oxygen too. 


Those 12 minutes I spent inside the ambulance were a characteristic fair bit of an experience what I term as a perfect mixed feel times. The royal palatial hospital had a neatly manicured lawn and five-star facility. I was overwhelmed to see an Indian doctor on duty and gleefully sat up on the stretcher till the lady doctor sweetly ushered me back on stretcher and to a beautiful room but covered with huge heavy curtain from all sides of the bed. 


After an entire 18 hours of monitoring and my toiling up and down the hospital corridors with labour, finally the hard work paid off. I reminded the nurse with full confidence when it was time to rush to maternity ward and get the baby out. It was a first experience again to be on a bed completely surrounded by heavy curtains as is custom in Doha. 

The arrival of the bundle of joy lasted for few minutes till he was taken away for his wash and I lay staring at the ceiling and the tubes and pipes twined onto my arms. Just as I waited to ask the next staff when would the baby arrive to me, I witnessed it was almost 12 midnight and the mark of first day of holy month of Ramadan, and everybody got busy hugging each other and wishing "Ramadan Kareem". 


It was then, I took a chance to look at my coffee coloured maternity gown the hospital gave me. Intoxicated by the smell of medicine and the ticks of the big dirty wall clock, angrily I turned my face towards those heavy monstrous curtain, when I heard Usha Auntie run in like a happy puppy with a bundle in her hands. Look he looks just like his dad.. 

Enough, after all this labour and wait, and now at least I deserved to be told see how he resembles me. But too sweet that auntie was, I nodded a positive with her.


Now as I arrived in to my private room, it was midnight and exactly a day after I had left home in the multicoloured singing van. And world had changed for us. There was an additional birth certificate added onto our family documents and one more passport to be done.

Isn't birth of a human a joyful miracle coupled with emotions, changes and lots of memories for a lifetime's treasury?

1 2 3 Pico

Those coded cognitive toddler stories; Bubbly gestures; Lively imaginations: Their sparkling eyes, innocent charm; Inquisitive and persistent questionnaire - Children



We are all stories in the end. But those unending stories our children paint in their own words,  fill up the blanks of our life to be some of  the finest chapters. Isn't it?

Little fella in action- weaving stories about space characters 

It was last week, a cloudy evening 7pm. I walked in my backyard with my cranky little son, a toddler. And he had so much to express how the moon had finished dinner too early and slept off (hidden) inside the clouds. How it will pee and we all will get rains! I was astonished and added fuel to fire encouraging him to continue. He then told me the sun and the moon do fight a lot too to reach "his house"! Wildest imagination eh?

Some opportunities hit your door right on time. This time it was BlogAdda which introduced me to the complete activity set to foster creativity in such kids. The "Magical Space Adventure" special pack for kids by Colgate-Palmolive. 

It was easy to grab one set for myself. Thanks to super fast BloagAdda. This pack first reached my little nephew. Little "V" let's call him. Just 3 and he's that same fellow who persuaded me, how the little water heater fitted on top of his bathroom wall WAS the "Humpty Dumpty" and apparently I started visualizing it like one too! I was now keen to know what stories waited for me when V lay his hands on these space characters. Hoping none of them resembled me at least!



The box opening ritual, with non stop chatters and valiant efforts seemed to fill his day with lot of energy. All I can say is that I simply relished watching those moments in videos as he opened the box, piled up all the characters. Eagerness overloaded, with his best possible gestures, coded fumblers  and few giggles in between, we managed to get to what V kept saying.

In action

Oh!  What a marvelous time, there was a full cinema in V's  stuttering words though. 



"Those characters really act too smart you know. Do you see the one wearing hoola hoop like didi, is he jelly fish? May be...how will he ever sit in the rocket and go up? And that fellow (Saturn for us) with dabba (box in kannada) is fastest, because he has the dabba with him. zooooo...Night...yeah they all come in night and go in the rocket in the morning. Only the sun is wearing the pappa's sunglasses and he will come in morning. See angie (V named a character!) , he sat on the blue helicopter and went off to see the rocket".

Non stop tales by V filled the entire weekend with unique fun and enthusiasm.

Now that, V is so fond of a TV cartoon character called Shiva, he thinks these space characters borrowed Shiva's helmet. And what exactly do you think they are trying to do? Wait to understand what the 3 year old had to tell. They all sat in the merry go round (the space ship becomes a merry-go-round) and say 123 pico and fly into the sky. Upon asking what the pico thing was about, pat came the answer- "it comes in TV don't you know it"?. Well, my bad. Missed it, but had to google, scratch my head and find this video( the one below) on YouTube to finally understand him and hack his fumbled code. 1 2 3 take off! So much fun. Pico indeed.



See, this is where the children are innocent and intelligent. He connected to the TV commercial he saw, soon after opening the pack of this space characters.

Do you know there is no food  box in the sky. So when debie (another space character named by V) is hungry he behaves just like this".

These little toddler tales can fill all corners of your mind with so much laughter and freshness.

We adults try reading stories from books for our children. But have we ever wondered how much they have to say? How much they have to express on their own? Imagination is the door to possibilities. It is where creativity, ingenuity, and thinking outside the box begin and foster creative problem solving in children. Love them, pamper them and talk loads to them. Who knows, one day few of them would be traveling in the space too.

I’m blogging my #ColgateMagicalstories at BlogAdda in association with Colgate

My Mud Toed Princess

 The decision was mine! I had paid two hoots to those monstrous mocking  eyes of neighbours tracking me, as my little 22 months plus girl splashed her legs in the muddy rain water flowing across the street of the residential area of Manipal. If, being clean clothed, running around best smelling cosmos garden chasing a butterfly was "nice", fancying the nature's beauty in "ugly form" wasn't a crime. That toddler, today, growing into pre-adolescent times has been maintaining her crown, being "grubby legged". Rains are just one form, that cant withhold her massive love to one the beautiful forms of nature.

One day long ago it was, with heavy down pour, as I stuck to the windows of our house with the little girl, there was an enchanting resonance of melodious mixture of sounds. Aura engulfed by occasional mixing of the sounds of the little one gurgling in thrill and that of water drop off coconut leaves. She had grown talking to the birds in the air, apart from spending few hours with the high end toys. Growing into a toddler she often placed herself in the balcony, throwing pieces of food at the wandering crows or other birds. While I was ridiculed by few why I could not use the baby walker but leave the toddler struggling on the lawn, I mused how one could not enjoy the little child watch a small ant take its tiny steps, with strict concentration or notice the different shades of green  by ones self. I was self flattered by how "I" wanted to bring her up. How her bonding with the nature mattered in the times of plastic world that I term to the numerous options of electronics or other gadgets handled even by toddlers.

Treat the little one a best princess way, fathom all branded toys, luxuries, food and stuff. The wings of "plastic joys" makes the colourful life. Protecting her from experiencing nature's playful wings would however be a crime. Nature's wings completes the education. The idea of letting her  secret freedom watching the birds chirp, discover a colourful butterfly in the garden, chasing a big fat cat,  study an creepy crawler or an ant in the sands, or waft away on the calm bouncing waves of the sea, always meant the best games to me.



There are few from many instances to recall. Those of her "Lost-adventures". Prompt encouraging by we parents, my little savoured the nature in very best and at times vanished from my supervisory view!

An 8 months old crawling  baby as she was, all engrossed with tiny sand play-set, in a crowded sea shore. A small gossip as I ended with my counter part, and looked around, the crawling baby was out on a date with the crowd. A instant shocked me, stood up tall and to my relief found the little one held high up in the air by a man shouting " whose baby is this?". I smiled finally. I concluded it was those small white sand crabs playing hide and seek with her in between the sand that dragged her away from us.

Another incident to recall is the one, when at age 5, she dared to sneak out of her play area with cutlery play set, and settle down briefly with a friend making mud pie and sand water juice. One would go aghast, though I had to throw out the frustration, concern and worry with a stern warning, I ended up laughing and reminding her "you mud toed princess" you aren't going to mend your ways, are you!

Most enduring educative toys, the best branded toys and so on were indeed showered on her. An comfort level would however find her settling down with those sea shells collected in a small cup with few broken, some green leaves from the garden along with few flowers and stuff in a "kitchen play set" with left over juice too to play with! What can be more educative than nature itself. How would she otherwise find the beauty of a butterfly and about the life and habits of natural habitats, greens, learn about the seasons better than experiencing over reading about it in beautifully coloured books.  She could even find sun shine delicious!

Times from her toddler-hood till those pre adolescent ones, time and again I catch her mud toed. The journey has been of playing out under the roof of the sky.....

www.kissan.in

Little instances of the child jotted here, little encounters of her with mother nature do add up as those flourishing memories to a parent. In a parallel, those little encounters  teach lessons to both. There is a child all who respects, understands and loves nature to fullest. An ordinary advice in our earthly existence is to remind ourselves, stay blessed with the best of nature and encourage the hymn of it in children from young age.  Let them free with the nature, who knows there is an inventor in one little mind perhaps!



Read somewhere that -"Earth laughs in the flowers".

I say - Lets laugh with those flowers and greens on the earth. Love nature, save earth and love yourself.

This post is dedicated to the best friend - Friend's of Nature..... > www.kissan.in

Is available to view in here too.  http://www.indiblogger.in/topic.php?topic=106 

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.

---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

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

Mamma-Iam the Rapunzel

Rapunzel and the Prince [J's Collection]

It  was exactly three weeks ago my little daughter returned home [flashed in is the right word for the speed that she enters] too excited "Mamma I am the Rapunzel in the Skit being played for the School Annual Day". " Look at what you did to my beautiful hair"-she was cross with me . Because of chicken pox boils on head this summer I had snipped off her hair! She has always marveled long hair. The new Bob- Style made her enthusiastic. She dressed different, combed different loved her new hair do. Alas! This Rapunzel skit and she plunged back into plan 1. Long hair is nice!

Now with Annual day preparations just round the corner, though the skit is a suspense to parents J [J-my daughter for you] recites all her dialogue with her accent, gestures and vibrancy.

A part of the skit goes like this:

J[Rapunzel playing with her long golden hair, sitting at the window, sad]: "Ohhh how I wish I had an I-pod so I could listen to some music".

One day the prince passing by sees her and says " Rapunzel let down your golden hair so I can climb up".

J: "Ohh please use a step ladder instead. You know how many days it takes to clean and dry my hair. Moreover these days the contaminated water and dandruff has damaged my hair you know!

Prince: But...But Iam supposed to climb up the hair not the ladder. eh?

[psss: J says the prince is shorter than her yet her Ms.Kares says it's manageable]

That was hilarious indeed. So  I understand in the pretext of turning the skit into humorous one there is a message too.  Caring for the hair in today's contaminated environment.

I see my childhood in J. All the silly little things that she treats her hair with puts me into the so called "going into the past" mode. Like telecast in many cartoons and  movies, press a special button and you can walk into your past. J is like the time machine for me!

It was long ago, at her age I too fantasized long hair. I would be often found with a dupatta's [dupatta] hanging on the head imitating long hair. Would spend long time admiring the hair, turning it around, tossing & feeling it on the shoulders. At times I would run crazily in the garden shaking my hair left to right. Smelling it after the shampooing was my favourite. I might have looked like fool. Secret is I do all that now too! You can bet on my attempting all the silly pleasure imagining my hair also loves to be pampered like a queen. I make sure that she adores me for all the attention and fuss that I pour on her.

Now, I see J clinging onto "wigs". Globalisation and changed world! From old dupattas to fancy wigs. The picture on the right is just one sample of the collection of her dreamy  world of hair-do's that she cant possess naturally. A curly hair, a blond, and so on. Let me assure you it's not just that. There are an array of types of combs and brushes for her hair that shes collected. "Any commercials of shampoos that mesmerizes her and she'll place a request to me if she could try it. Nothing newer than what I did. I have been an organised care taker of my hair. She makes me feel lively. She's oiled and wahsed in regularly. Nothing new in that? There is. I take a fancy for experimenting many different kinds of herbal hair oil. Buying them every time I visit India and stocking them here is called "patience" by my friends. "You can have an exihibition" teases my hubby some times. Googling on the fundamenatals of keeping the hair roots stronger these days is a necessary past time for me now. So for my follower J too! 

It was in class ten one day that I was in hyper great mood. Hair neatly washed and set and I went around swinging it left right some stylish techniques. My best friend usually asked me what do you do to your hair. I dont deny how wanted question that was! huh appealing attention gathering techniques of teens. Specilly about hair. Proudly I boasted but sarcastically "Nirma". I blurted. Perhaps I had some secrests with me about the products. The incident however brigns in laughter on my lips even today.  As if the scene is still. We were climbing up the steps of first floor with our small skirts bouncing and couple of books in hand. As I climbed every step I shook my head to ensure the hair bounced and tossed hapily in the air with the new fragrance of my shampoo too. And what an attitude of telling Nirma, even after the much wanted attention was payed. Yeah it was me. And still do that when it come to hair.

A common habit of people yanking at your "pony tail" or your hair. And the other still scene moment I recollect is in my Engineering days. My senior friend found me on the corridor and came rushing behind me and yanked at my plaited hair.  That was it. The kind of scrowl that I gave and kind the kind of fury my eyes threw is still fresh in him and he mimics me even today about my ahughty behaviour. You and your hair! he says even today.

As for J she is happy go lucky girl. Playful and a typical girl. She might forget brushing her teeth before bed time but not her hair!

All said and done, to brief in a point do we see the X-factor there?. The Love for hair.

Love your hair? then you will Love the Dove. Wow! Check Out. 

This post  is dedicated to a contest by "Dove".[Click in here] featured on the most popular web site of Indi-Blogger [click here] Special dedication to the Dove-Damaged therapy, Moisturizing Shampoo with Fiber Actives- For Dry and Rough Hair. This is my personal recommendation. A hectic day and drive in the city should end with a quick shower and Dove and a hot cofee!!





Cheers,

Sush