Paranoia

Waiting for the winding time to dissolve into tender waves of dreams, tired body begging the eyes to just shut the window to void as the mind longs to escape from the tangled web of imagination.
The beckoning of unfulfilled wishes and the awareness of hopelessness settling down to the bottom of the dynamic thoughts.
The soul begs for help as the scream from the heart is hushed by the silence that surrounds. 

The first time and the last time

Everything has a first time and if it's about your baby, it's always special. Like the first time you felt him against your chest. The first time you ran a finger around his ear to wake him up and so that he continue feeding, the first time his eyes met yours and he smiled innocently. The first time your baby cried in his sleep and immediately felt cozy when you held him close. The first time he managed to flip to his side, the first time he lift himself to his two little feet, the first time his looked at you and uttered "Amma". The list goes on. I have cherished all these beautiful moments myself. But lately, something struck me which gave me as much pain as it made me happy.
One day, there will also be a last time. Like the time he struggled to swim across the floor, or like how he had to be held in your arms as he slept. He has learned a lot in 10 months. He now knows to pull himself up on his two feet, he can walk on all four and go get what he wants. He know to play on his own with his toys, he knows a lot more words than "Amma" and he is still growing, learning and leaving behind a lot .
There will come a time when he will stop feeding, a day when he will just stop cuddling to me. As the days pass by and as I rejoice in every new thing he learns, that one day is only coming nearer. The day when he will no longer need my help to eat or play or sleep. That day when my son decides to be independant. That day when he finally proclaim that he has grown up. That day when he only wants me to spectate his improvements. When that day comes, I will miss a lot of things. Like holding him on my shoulders and singing a lullaby, like telling him instant stories to put a spoon or two of food into his system, like showing him around and observing his amusement. I will miss more than that. I will miss me.
Am I ready? Not yet.
Before the moment passes, let me have that one warm hug, a cute smile and most sweetest word uttered out. Let me just liedown besides you and watch as you smile in your sleep. Let me just dissolve into the innocence your pour out. Let me just cherish this moment with you. Let me hold you a little more before you are not little anymore.
Am I ready? I think I'll need a moment more.

Wondering about wandering in the space.

Watching the movie GRAVITY for the fifth time. I couldn't resist but pen down the lingering thought I always had since the second watch. Usually when I strike a conversation  about the movie, most people expressed their thoughts and feelings if they were in the suit of the protagonist. Almost all the delima of 50-50 chances of life and death, what would they have done? Would they fight for survival or give up and wait for the ultimate fate?

I don't know how many other would have thought about being in the shoes of the character played by GEORGE CLOONEY. I for one, found myself lost in such  thoughts many a times. Knowingly letting go of the slightest opportunity of survival to ensure at least one life is saved and embracing fate with a willing heart...

What if we were to leave the grip of hope and let go of last chance? Once the final radiowave leaves the frequency and no more voices reach each other, probably we would watch the other human strangled in confusion and fear and yet struggle to swim to the shore of life. we might wish them good luck with all our heart and wait for the moment to sink in. Then when the reality of the inevitable death strikes, will we panic? Will we cry?

On one side we have the earth we call home - to where innumerable memories can relate to, the comfort zone and in the other direction lies the shimmering darkness of eternity - its mystery waiting to unfold one by one. Will the nostalgia work up our emotions and we cast our eyes on earth the whole time or will the fascination about space call us towards its limitlessness? Which side would we choose to spend the final moments of our lives?

Probably, I will spend quiet moments with my sweet memories of my near and dear and keep talking - hoping someone to listen and record so that my folks will one day come to know the last words I had reserved for them. Probably there are chances that I force myself to float in deep thought about what lies beyond the void (almost void). Assuming a superpower to either show me the path or take me to a different world altogether. I might joke to myself about meeting an alien or two or discover another earth. Or maybe heaven.

Or will I convince myself, as I watch the oxygen level dropping while I drift away into my last moment, to lift up the mask and try to breath in the freedom of eternity?

What will you do if your were to be alone in space with no hope for a second chance? Let me know in the comments below.

No more lame comments on pregnancy and delivery, please

Felt heartbroken when I came across a lame comment about women giving birth.

You think it's  natural so it comes easy for a woman, right? Just like eating an apple, is that so?

Yea, let's just try to understand the scenario with your example. Take the apple - yes, the very same apple that u mentioned, and now try to sniff it up your nose. Oh, it shouldn't be tough for you , it's just an inch above your lips, must be pretty much as simple!

Dear fellow human, I'm sorry to tell you, it wasn't easy for your mother to bring you into this world. She had gone through her share of pain and physical difficulties. Your sister (if you have any), your wife (that is if someone marry you) and your daughter will all go through this natural phenomena one day (if not yet) but that doesn't mean it's a cake walk. It's natural for a woman to give birth because, only a woman can handle it. The human raise would have extinct with a generation or two if men like you had to go through pregnancy.
To explain to you what it is like, allow me to help you imagine what all the final day process involves...

An example already sited above, a woman has to push out a baby (whose head circumference  vary from 25-40cm on an average, let's say) is pretty much like you trying to sniff an apple (if not a papaya) up your nose. (You should try it yourself, let's see how simple that is).

Another step in a normal delivery is called episcotomy. A doctor uses a sharp surgical blade to cut open a side of the 'exit hole' to make room for baby's head. It probably is too painful for you to even  imagine cuting your nose tip to accommodate the apple so don't bother imagining a blade slightly slitting your private part. Ouch!

And then that same wound is stitched up while you are completely conscious. Good luck trying not to faint at the thought of a needle pearcing 'your tip'. Remember, this stitches will take from 1 to 3 weeks to heal so don't imagine sitting, stand or walking for that long like you normally do.

If luck leaves for side, you doctor would suggest s/he cut open you stomach (thankfully, you will be given anaesthesia in this case). Well, then the effect of the painkillers will eventually wear off and you will be left with excruciating pain on your abdoman till the stitches finally dissolve.

That's just one part of the whole process. The trauma and trouble post delivery is another story altogether.

Most importantly, please understand that you came to this world not because your mother thought of you as an apple. You might be an apple of her eye, but definitely not a store bought one that she whole heartedly washes and slices for you to eat.

So before you comment so shamelessly, unapologetically about a woman's dedication, willingness and choice to bring a new life into this world, remember not to bring shame to your mother at least.

Broccoli-carrot soup

Improvised version of a healthy and easy soup.

You need:

Broccoli - 50 grams
Carrots - 2 (medium size)
Onion - 1/2 (chopped)
Milk - 1/2 cup
Butter/ghee - 1/2 spoon
Salt and pepper to taste
Water

How to make:

1. Cut carrots into small cubes. Wash them along with broccoli, thoroughly. Put them in a cause pan with just enough water so that they are immersed . Bring to boil and cook till carrots turn tender.

2. Take out the cooked vegetables and using a mixer,  make a puree.
Return the puree into the cause pan mix with the remaining water in it. Boil again in low flame after adding enough salt.

3. In a fry pan, put butter or ghee and saute the onion.  Add them to the soup. Cover it with a lid and turn off the stove.

Serve hot with pepper.

Flash fiction 2

Flash fiction 

unwanted

He chose the depth of the sea and 3 days later, rejected, waves returned him to the shore.  

Flash fiction 1 (image)

Wind

Wind wanted to have some fun. 

He started chasing the sun. 

A day later,  he was where he had begun.

Destiny Or Fate

She would have become a doctor.  The father decided that he needed no daughter.  

First Love letter

He wrote down his first love letter on her grave.  Fate smirked at him. 

River

The river rushed to the sea to narrate the story of the mountains and lost herself in it. 

Tree

The tree had grown half her way to the Sun when the tiny two legged creatures took her life.

Image courtesy: Google images.
(Used a random image to work with my lines) 

Farmer

The farmer hung himself and passed down his 12 year old all his belongings - debts and bills to pay.  

  

Paper

Victim of the act, live the rest of my life with what was done to me. 

Yet the world praise the pen for the scars it made on me  -  paper

The potty problem

Being a mother is joy and being a member of mothers' group is fun.  You get to hear a lot of things  about babies: wonder stories,  blunder stories, worries, humour scoops and even poops.

My  group is rather a heterogenous mix of women with babies of different ages,  expecting mothers, expecting to expect women and free birds with no experience but a lot of advices. Our topics of discussion included anything and everything under the sun.

One day, as usual we hangout and there was a friend of mine with a new worry.  Her 3 month old's potty time is two days over due.  You can't blame a mother if she freaks out when her baby don't poop for two consecutive days.  It's natural,  how can a baby not poop in two days,  right? My baby,  was an expert in the matter.  He could do it anywhere,  anytime.  I have even ran out of wipes in a day. " Why can't my baby do such a natural thing?"  "Is milk not enough?" " Is he  unwell?" "Constipation?,"  "dehydration?"  discussions caught fire scaring the shit out of her.  The best of advice being pay a visit to the doctor,  the topic was very important to the group.

Everyone had some or the other doubts about their baby's stool.  One girls baby's waste product was still greenish another's was still watery, and so the discussion went on from one issue to the other.

As it progressed, a group member form another part of the world decided to tell her story. And no doctor could solve it for her.  She was in a far off land enjoying her holidays and it was only the second day of her visit to this beautiful best she had to face her problem. She was in the bathroom for her routine when she figured out that there was no tap or bidet shower next   to her to clean herself after 'the task'.  A roll of tissue papers was all that was there.  (probably,  only an Indian would understand the irony of the situation).

Our sincere sympathies to her.

Disclaimer: As much as it sounds weird, the topic is important to mothers of young babies.  Doctors says that the texture,  colour and appearance of baby's stool  can reveal a lot about their health condition.  Being a first time mother,  there's lots to look into,  think about and consider as you wipe clean your baby's bums. Disturbing ideas of any kind was unintentional.  

പാഴ്സൽ വന്ന അടി.

പകൽ അങ്ങിനെ കാഞ്ഞു നിൽക്കുന്ന സമയം. അറ്റകുറ്റ വീട്ടുപണികളൊക്കെ ഒതുക്കി കുഞ്ഞിനെ കളിപ്പിച്ചിരിക്കവേ കേട്ടു ഒരു മണിനാദം.നാട്ടിൽ നിന്നും  അമ്മയാണ്  വിളിക്കുന്നത്. സ്ഥിരം കത്തി വെപ്പിനു തന്നെയാകണം വിളി.

അങ്ങിനെ ഒന്നും രണ്ടും പറഞ്ഞു്  ചർച്ച ചെയ്ത് , കുഞ്ഞിനെ  കബളിപ്പിച്ച്,  നേരം പോയത് അറിഞ്ഞില്ല. പെട്ടെന്നാണ്  മുൻവശത്തെ കതകിൽ ഒരു കൊട്ടുകേട്ടത്. ഫോൺ ലൗഡ് സ്പീക്കറിൽ ഇട്ടു വർത്തമാനം പറഞ്ഞു കൊണ്ടു തന്നെ പോയി തുറന്നു.   Amazon. com  നിന്നും ഒരു വലിയ പൊതി!

കുഞ്ഞിന്റെ ഡയപ്പർ ആണു. ഓൺലൈൻ' ഷോപ്പിങ്ങ് വന്നതിൽ പിന്നെ സൗകര്യമായി. വീട്ടിൽ ഇരുന്നു വിരൽ തൊട്ടാൽ വേണ്ടതെല്ലാം എത്തിക്കാനാവും. മുഖം കറുപ്പിച്ചു നിന്ന ഒരു പാവം മനുഷ്യനാണു സാധനങ്ങൾ ഇന്നു കൊണ്ടുവന്നത്. കൊടുത്ത ചിരി മടക്കി തരാതെ അയാൾ തിരിച്ചു നടന്നു. നടത്തം അല്പം സ്പീഡിൽ ആണു. പാവം തിരക്കായിരിക്കും, ഞാൻ വിചാരിച്ചു. വാതിൽ അടച്ചു തിരികെ നടക്കാനൊരുങ്ങുമ്പോൾ അതാ വരുന്നു കണവന്റെ വിളി.

"പാഴ്സൽ വല്ലതും വന്നോ?"
എങ്ങിനെ അറിഞ്ഞു, അയാൾ ഇപ്പൊ വന്നു പോയേ ഉള്ളു, ഞാൻ പറഞ്ഞു.
"ഇപ്പൊ അല്ലാ, മണിക്കൂർ ഒന്നായി അയാൾ വാതുക്കൽ കാത്തുനിൽക്കുന്നു. ഞാൻ എത്ര ഫോൺ വിളിച്ചു നോക്കി. എവിടെ ആയിരുന്നു? ഒരു മണിക്കൂറോളം ഫോൺ എൻഗേജ്ഡ് ആയിരുന്നല്ലോ?"

ഡോർ ബെൽ  കേടായിട്ടു ഇശ്ശി ആയി. നന്നാക്കാൻ ആളെ വിളിക്കാൻ എന്നും മറക്കും. അതാണു പാവം അയാൾ വന്നപ്പോൾ അറിയാഞ്ഞത്. ഫോണിൽ കൂത്തിയിരിക്ക കൂടി ആയപ്പോ പൂർത്തിയായി. കോൾ വെയിറ്റിങ്ങ് സെറ്റിങ്ങ്സ് ഓഫ് ആയിരുന്ന കാര്യം എനിക്കറിയില്ലായിരുന്നു.

എന്തായാലും വരാനുള്ള പാഴ്സൽ വന്നു , കിട്ടാനുള്ള ചീത്ത വിളിയും കിട്ടി. സന്തോഷം , ഇനി ഞാൻ പോയി കുഞ്ഞിനെ കുളിപ്പിക്കട്ടെ.........

ദുഃഖ വെള്ളി

ആ വർഷം ദുഃഖ വെള്ളി മാർച്ചിൽ ആയിരുന്നില്ല, ഒക്ടോബറിൽ ആയിരുന്നു.


സ്കൂളിൽ പഠിക്കുന്ന കാലം. അഴിമതിയും കോഴയും ഒന്നും ജീവിത പ്രശ്നമല്ലാത്ത ഒരു പക്ഷെ കേട്ടാൽ പോലും മനസിലാവാത്ത പ്രായത്തിൽ നല്ലവരായ സർക്കാർ ഇടക്ക് ബന്ദ്, ഹർത്താൽ രൂപത്തിൽ വിദ്യാർത്ഥികൾക്ക് അവധി ദിവസം സമ്മാനിക്കുമായിരുന്നു. ആ ഒക്ടോബറിൽ സംഭവിച്ചതും അതു തന്നെ. ഒക്ടോബർ ഒന്നിന് സ്കൂളിനെ ബാധിച്ച ഒരു ബന്ദ്.


ബുധനാഴ്ച അവധി, വ്യാഴാച അവധി (ഒക്ടോബർ 2, ഗാന്ധി ജയന്തി), ശനിയും ഞായറും സ്വാഭാവികമായും അവധി. ഇതിനിടയിൽ വില്ലനായി ഒരു വെള്ളി. രാവിലെ എഴുന്നേറ്റു സ്കൂളിൽ പോയി ക്ലാസ്സ് മുറിയിൽ കുത്തിയിരിക്കേണ്ട ഒരു വെള്ളി. അതായിരുന്നു യഥാർത്ഥ ദുഃഖ വെള്ളി 

One little love story - part 7

The balancing act
These days young parents like us look forward to balancing work and life at once.  I,  at times,  regret being a stay-at-home mother though it was my decision to not take up a permanent job till my son turns two.
I regret it because I am financially depended and is compelled by my conscious to draw the limit line for expense everytime I come across eye-catchy things in e-commerce sites. I cannot thank my dear friends enough to help me celebrate and surprise my hubby's birthday and not let me worry about the expense.
To be economically independent, to not restrict myself (and my hubby) from purchasing our 'favourite nothings',  to stop ourself from bleaving that materialistic life is the ultimate sin,  I needed a job.
Part time/freelancing was an easy option except that I found little time to spare from my busy schedule (don't bother breaking your head over wondering what makes me so busy,  trust me when I say,  I have no clue either).
So financial stability on a personal ground was tough.  I respect my mother, friends and everyone who chose to balance work and personal life.  I salute the majority of you who aced it.  But,  reality is,  balancing act is not my cup of tea.  I failed at it even before I tried.  I'm miserable.
I know I will be judged.  For being dependent, as lazy,  as stubborn,  but I know no one is better to take care of my son than me. The only thing that makes me happy is I'm with my baby 24/7. I realise this is the only time he will demand my presence so much,  this is the only time he will want me with him throughout the day, this is the only time I can feed, nap with him, dress him up the way I want and he will not protest. THIS TIME is priceless.  I cannot buy it online,  I cannot borrow it,  I cannot relive it ever again. This us the only time.
So,  to the mothers like me, who chose to (or were forced to) stay at home with our little ones, congratulations!  You are doing the right thing for yourself and for your baby.  Not having to do that balancing act never makes you any smaller.  You are doing enough and more. Managing household and handling a baby is work - only that you don't get paid in cash (unless you are doing it for someone else).
Your task is to maintain a sweet happy family and a healthy baby (if anyone feels it's less important or easy, don't bother marrying or reproducing).  You are responsible for your little ones growth. Babys medical reports is your report card. With every progress your baby makes,  you go a level up, and everytime s/he smiles,  just know that you are the reason behind it.
Love yourself,  be happy and stay healthy. 

One little love story - part 6

A confession

Motherhood -  one of world's wonderful feeling.
Yeah,  I disagree to disagree to disagree...

At 5 years of age,  I badly wanted to grow up and be on my own. At age 15, I wanted to just finish off my hectic school days and move into college and have fun.  At 20, over obsessed by career dream I wanted to equip myself to climb up the hills and mountains of corporate industry.  Once married,  I wanted a kid.  Now,  I want an eight hour uninterrupted sleep.  Sigh!

No,  I'm not talking about the changing dreams or phases in life,  my point was motherhood is not easy (at least for me) as it appears from outside.  Many thinks,  after all its a baby,  what is it gonna do?  U give him some milk and put him to sleep then u have all the time in the world. Oh yeah?!  Try having one of your own before you judge.

I'm gonna be honest here,  there are many mother's and parents who sympathise,  "oh,  poor you. How are you managing?" .  "why don't you get a nanny to look after your kid?".  I don't like that either.  It's my baby,  my responsibility. I struggle to keep myself calm when I have to hand my son over to our people even for a while so then how am I to accept a nanny (total stranger) to handle him?
Frankly, I dnt know how I'm managing each day.  I some tyms fail to get breakfast ready before my husband leaves to work.  Sometimes the house is a mess when he return.  Some tyms I give up trying to console my crying child.  Sometimes I find it difficult to get myself together.  All this,  within the four walls of my house.  And outside I'm a sweet inexperienced mother trying my level best at the tasks.  These are my confessions.  My inlaws are not going to be happy about the first point.  My ever calm husband let's me off the hook everytime at the second point confessed here.  My mother is going to fume at every single word mentioned above.  I know and I'm not going to bail me out of anything for I know I'm not perfect. I make mistakes,  I learn and sometimes I take a few more lessons at the same mistakes.  I don't promise to be perfect from tomorrow.  I know some of you are perfect already,  but I'm not you.  I'm not supposed to be perfect.  I'm supposed to be me.
So I embrace the little imperfections and move on.  Because,  after going through a troublesome episode of my daily life,  when I watch my little ones face,  up close while feeding him, his deep dark eyes looks into mine revealing nothing less than his love for me.  When his busy lips take a break to peacefully smile at me,  the whole world simply dissolves into thin air and only his charming face remains.  That moment is worth living for.  That moment completes me as a mother,  as me.

One little love story - part 5

A sweet something

I'm a totally busy mother.  So busy that I even don't have the time to look at the mirror and place a red spot of kumkum (bindhi) between my overgrown,  uneven eyebrows. I must admit  that I am that one rare person who cannot imagine a life without a bindhi,  a dab of kumkum on my forehead even if I'm clad in jeans and casual tops or dressed for a perfect corporate business moment.  After moving in to our tiny home at Chennai (with the baby), I hardly noticed my dark circles or cared to comb my hair.   Until that day  -  the day I decided to take two minutes out of my busy schedule and actually do a minimal makeup and make myself feel good.
After a quick bath as usual,  I put on a house coat and digged out my kaajal and sindoor from the abandoned pouch in my shelf.  Keeping an eye on my little one,  wide awake and watching my movements,  who could change the mood of the moment in a fraction of a second,  I turn towards the mirror.  One small dot of sindoor for bindhi,  some on my forehead and a thin spread of kaajal under my eyes,  I'm done.  I take a moment to admire the new me.
It was then I noticed a huge mark just under my chin. Immediately I check it up.  Looks like burnt skin but it does not hurt me a bit. Surprised, I examine it even more.  The size of it (as big as an unniappam, I would say) made me wonder even more.  What the hell is this?  I have no memory of burning myself in the recent past, how could this have happened?!
Knowing my mother,  I didn't have the guts to ring her up and check for the possibilities of such miracles.  I decided to approach my friends group (in WhatsApp).  My gals,  my support,  my precious gems,  my Navratnas, I come to you seeking help!
After listening to my explanation,  each of us thought about the possibilities of different reasons until one came up with the suggestion of love bite.  You can imagine me blushing right now but you are wrong.  I told you already,  I'm a busy mother. I dnt have time for romance!
After a few minutes of discussion, it lit like a hundred watt bulb in my brain.  Of course it is love bite,  but not from my hus.  If you had paid attention, I had told you about my baby's new habit of mouthing my chin?  It's from him! A sweetsomthing ,  for me to remember forever.

A relief and joy it was to realise it and an absolute bliss to flaunt it for a while.

One little love story - part 4

Yasoda sees the universe in kanha's mouth!

My little one,  dearly called Kannan by a selected few, was only 4 months and 2 weeks when he experienced common cold and cough, due to the change in climate (we thought). He had turned more cranky and demanding in a couple of days and as loving, caring parents (totally new at the job and still figuring out the tasks) we gave in each time when he turned stubborn.  After all he was only four and a half months — too young to understand anything at all.  One of his new habit was putting anything he found straight into his mouth.  If he was deprived of toys,  his five figures were chewed upon.  He used to mouth my chin each time I rocked him on my shoulders.

One evening I and my hubby,  sat on the bed along with our fussy child. He had been cranky for quiet a while that day and his new found soother -his father's finger was put into use. After a moment,  my hubby cried loudly out of pain.  Puzzled,  I looked at him only to find an even more confused expression on his face.  I couldn't imagine what was so painful about it until I decided to check my little ones gums.
I opened his mouth and we were left speechless .  He was teething already and it wasn't the normal incisors even!  His cuspid on the left bottom jaw has already surfaced.  Like an iceberg,  only the tip was out, yet it was sharp enough to hurt.

We knew it was time for a visit to the doctor  as what we saw in his mouth had surprised us beyond words (though we Googled it up and found it was not unsual). At the doctor's,  kannan was well behaved and the general checkup signalled normal and healthy developments.  The doctor checked his mouth with a popsicle stick (which my son evidently disapproved by making funny faces) and revealed yet another surprise.

There were not one but three teeth on their way.  Two cuspids and a pre-molar on his lower jaw. The doctor ensured us that there was nothing to worry and it was normal to find such irregularities with the milk teeth. The permanent teeth will however appear normally.
Relieved,  we went back home with a few meds for his cold and cough.

The next is line was a very sweet something that I will remember for life...

One little love story - part 3

The cliché

At the break of dawn,  my alarm goes off and I eagerly tie a high pony with the excitement of finally getting to do what I have been missing for a year now.  The perfect patnee with a schedule for everything.  After I left to native for my first delivery, I had missed being a responsible woman of the house,  as I was pampered to the core by the overenthusiastic grandparents of my kid.

A year ago,  we were in a different country and the lifestyle we had there was pretty calm but organised.  I was always on time.  Wake up,  cook breakfast,  send my husband off to work by 7.30 am and then I had all the time for everything.  My experiments  with paint,  craft and even cooking kept me zealous  on most of the day.

Coming back to the present,  I had to 'stealth move' out of the bed so as to ensure my baby was not disturbed. After a quick face & mouth wash I went to the kitchen and began my task.  Five minutes would have passed before I heard my son cry.  He has sensed that I was not around.  My poor hus,  first experience at handling a crying baby,  looked all confused and worried.  He held our son in his arms as if to figure out the stop button. Funny as it may sound,  I almost reminded him it was not an alarm clock. It took some time to pacify my kid and put him back to bed. Needless to say that the morning was a mess with the repeated episode of baby waking up and me running back and forth the kitchen,  I realised  my idea of an ideal schedule popped like a soap bubble.

A few days went by, and all in the same manner. I and my hus started feeling more and more tired.  Waking up early morning had become a herculean task for both of us because we were sleep deprived at  day as well as at night.  I even had a day when my husband read to me about the importance of sleep and the effects of sleeplessness.  Then again we could do nothing about it other than brushing off the thought of 8 hours sleep from our brains.

As life slowly progressed,  (I mean really slowly,  in about 2 weeks)  my son had developed news habits which,  most of the time, left us puzzled.  Little did we know he was up for a surprise.  

One little love story - part 2

Little star is home

I was welcomed by the mesmerising smell of freshly mixed coffee powder and milk.  Chennai coffee, a smell that will linger in your thoughts ever after your first visit to the city. Every breath I took in had this smell.  The coffee stall was not very far from sight but I decided not to grab a cup because I had to get my stuffs and go meet my hus.  He will be waiting for us and knew exactly how he wud be feeling right then.  Collecting the luggage at the (airport) belt 1 was a little time consuming.  But at last when I walked out of the gate, it was my man's diamond smile that made my day.   Because it was an early morning flight,  we reached at a very convenient time.  Convenient,  considering the heavy traffic which otherwise would have consumed the day. My little one was unreasonably comfortable in his father's arms,  he slept like a kitten.
We reached home and right there at the door was a beautiful banner welcoming the star of the family into the house.  I immediately sensed that something bigger was waiting inside and guessing all my friends to be hiding behind the door,  I urged them to come out while my husband fumbled with the keys and finally got the door unlocked. To my surprise,  there was no one inside,  instead they had done the most beautiful thing they could.  The house was beautifully decorated with posters, balloons and ribbons of all colours and walls had my baby's pictures all over.  Crazy about my son and his pics,  this was something I always wanted to do.  They swept off my feet. Need I say more?
Big thanks to my friends who know me inside out for that beautiful gesture.
As for Navi,  it didn't make much sense in the beginning,  but it's these posters and photos that made the place easily recognisable and later turned the house homely for him.
Later that morning,  my friends dropped by and Navi was introduced to his new set of friends.  He seemed quiet happy.  Day 1 was cake walk.

From the next morning it was home alone time for mother and child...

One little love story - part 1

So,  yes I moved into the cuddly small rent house in the city with my little one to be with his dad.  It felt like the best thing even minutes before boarding the flight.
That was my first flight (although a very short one) with a baby.  I was expecting my child to feel uncomfortable considering his proactive behaviours, but of course I was expecting a lot more positive things which could overlap with it and still make it fun filled.  The first blow came from the very polite air hostess who,  after a brisk briefing of the flights baby safety measures,  announced that there's going to be no baby bassinet. Little did I know that it was only the beginning.
And so the crew announces the take off and the flight starts moving towards the runway.  I was told to feed the baby during that time to avoid the discomforts of change in air pressure.  I had "squeezed my energy" out into a feeding bottle early that day (considering the flight was at 4 am,  and in my memory there was no night in between, it seemed to be the same day to me).  I jammed the nipple into my sons ever hungry mouth. As he started quenching his thirst, I looked around (and at the guy sitting next to me) with pride and in peace that I didn't have to unbutton my top to do my duty and embarrass myself.  Meanwhile the plane had spread it's wings and got itself speeding somewhere into the limitless sky, I completely forgot to look out of the window and catch a bird's-eye view of my hometown like I always do.  A couple of minutes later,  my son is done with the bottle and he spits the nipple out. It's Play time he signaled loudly.  Yes, 4 AM's usually his fun time.  He started giggling which soon became his calls for frustration.  I give him his toy which he throws away in disgust, he didn't want a soother either.  His mumbles were growing into screams and there were eyes all around giving me razor sharp looks.  The stranger next to me took pity on me and decided not to show his discomfort but I could clearly read it on his face.
Oh god!  What now?!  That was answered pretty soon.  The pilot announces that flight has started its decent.  Oops! There was only one bottle of milk! I'm gonna have to breastfeed him now! And thus,  thousands of feet above Tamil Nadu, my shame and dignity bid goodbye. Thanks to the kind gentlemen who dug their faces into their newspapers and books.  Also to those who pretended to be sleeping. In the middle of all that,  my poor baby couldn't bear the pain of flying (cheap) and started screeching and screaming at the top of his lungs.  Those pearls that rolled down his cheeks burnt my heart but there was little I could do.  I cursed myself for putting my son through that torture. I don't remember how long that lasted,   at the time of touch down he sleeps in my arms - tired.
And the story begins here...

What rain does...

Like an umbrella, the dark clouds cast a shadow over the burning land, shielding it from the shining sun.

Mother earth was more than thankful for the mercy of heaven.

As the silver glitters showered from up above,  the molten sand sighs in relief.

The downpour has washed away the tiredness of the trees,  the leaves are brighter and against the mushy mood,  looked like fanned out peacocks' tail.

A melancholy bird felt no shy as it sang it's finest song for the sky.

And a butterfly, found its refuge under the blooming flower which welcomed the change with a smile.

As for the man in his solitude, rain dug the poet out of his soul.

പെൻസിൽ പ്രേമം

ആദ്യമായ് ഞാൻ ഉപയോഗിച്ച പെൻസിൽ സ്ലേറ്റ് പെൻസിൽ ആയിരുന്നു. ഈർക്കിലി കോലുപോലെ മെലിഞ്ഞു നീണ്ട ആ പെൻസിലുകൾ  എന്നെ അക്ഷര ലോകത്തേക്കു കൂട്ടികൊണ്ടു പോയി. എന്നാൽ അവനെ ഞാൻ അത്രയ്ക്കൊന്നും സ്നേഹിച്ചിരുന്നില്ല. തൊട്ടാൽ ഒടിയുകയും അഥവാ ഒടിഞ്ഞില്ലേൽ ഒടിക്കുകയും ചെയ്തിരുന്നു അവ.
പിന്നെ സ്കൂൾ മാറി, ഒപ്പം പെൻസിലിന്റെ രൂപവും. ചെത്തി കൂർപ്പിക്കാവുന്ന മുനയുള്ള മരപെൻസിൽ. അവയിലെ ഒരറ്റത്തു ഇറേസർ കഷ്ണം ഖടിപ്പിച്ച, പൂക്കളുടെ ചിത്രമുള്ളവ ആയിരുന്നു കൂടുതൽ പ്രിയങ്കരം. കൊല്ലം രണ്ടു കഴിഞ്ഞപ്പോൾ പെൻസിലും മോഡേൺ ആയി പ്ലാസ്റ്റിക് തണ്ടിൽ മുള്ളാണി പോലെ കൂർത്ത പ്ലാസ്റ്റിക് മുനകൾ മാറ്റി മാറ്റി കളിക്കാൻ പറ്റുന്നവ. കൂട്ടുകാരോടു കിടപിടിക്കാൻ അച്ഛൻ വാങ്ങി തന്ന ആ വയലറ്റ് പ്ലാസ്റ്റിക് പെൻസിൽ ഓർമ്മകളിൽ ഇപ്പോഴും  അതേ മിനുസത്തോടെയും തിളക്കത്തോടെയും നിൽക്കുന്നു.

പെൻസിലിന്റെ പരിണാമം അതുകൊണ്ടും അവസാനിച്ചില്ല. സൂചി പോലെ മെലിഞ്ഞു നീണ്ട ലെഡ് മുനകൾ ആവശ്യത്തിനു ഇണക്കിയും, പേന പോലെ അഗ്രഭാഗത്തു ഞെക്കിയാൽ  മുനവരുന്ന ഫോറിൻ (അക്കാലത്തു) പെൻസിലിനു വേണ്ടി ഞാനും ചേട്ടനുമൊക്കെ എത്രമാത്രം ഗുസ്തി പിടിച്ചിരിക്കുന്നു.
എനിക്കു ചേട്ടനേക്കാൾ 6 വർഷത്തെ വിവരക്കേടുകൂടുതൽ ആയതു കൊണ്ടോ, വീട്ടിൽ സ്വൈര്യം ഉണ്ടാവാൻ വേണ്ടിയോ എന്തോ, അവസാനം പൊട്ടി തകർന്ന ഹൃദയത്തോടെ, ഏട്ടൻ തോൽവി സമ്മതിക്കു മായിരുന്നു.
അങ്ങിനെ പെൻസിലുകൾ പുരോഗമിച്ചു, പക്ഷെ തമ്മിൽ ഉത്തമൻ മരപെൻസിൽ ആണെന്നു ഞാൻ മനസ്സിലാക്കി. ബ്ലേഡ് കൊണ്ടു മൂർച്ച വരുത്തിയും ഷാർപണർ കൊണ്ടു അസൂയ വരും വിധം അറ്റം കൂർപ്പിച്ചും ഒരുപാടു നാളുകൾ ഉപയോഗിച്ചവ. കാലം എത്ര ചെന്നിട്ടും കൈയക്ഷരത്തിനുമാറ്റം ഒന്നും വന്നില്ല. അതുപോലെ തന്നെ പെൻസിലിനോടുള്ള സ്നേഹത്തിനും. ഇപ്പോഴും ബാഗ് തപ്പിയാൽ കിട്ടും മൂർച്ചയുള്ള ഒരു മരപെൻസിൽ.

ഒരു അർബൻ സന്ധ്യ.

സിറ്റിയിൽ വന്നിട്ടു രണ്ടു  ദിവസമായി.  പുതിയ താമസ സ്ഥലം അടുക്കി പെറുക്കി ഞാൻ എന്റെ കൂടൊരുക്കി കഴിഞ്ഞു. ഇനി അല്പം വിശ്രമമാവാം. നാളെ മുതൽ പുതിയ ജോലിക്കു പോകണം പിന്നെ റസ്റ ഒന്നും ഉണ്ടായെന്ന്നുവരില്ല.
കോൺക്രീറ്റ് കാനനത്തിലെ ഒരു മരച്ചില്ലയിൽ നിന്നും ഞാൻ  പടികളിലൂടെ തത്തി തത്തി താഴെയിറങ്ങി. അപാർട്ട് മെന്റിന്റെ പാർക്കിൽ അല്പം നേരം കാറ്റു കൊള്ളാം എന്നു കരുതി. മണി നാലു് ആയെങ്കിലും കത്തുന്ന സൂര്യനും ചൂടുള്ള കാറ്റും ആണ് ഇവിടങ്ങളിൽ എന്നു മനസ്സിലായി. ഓരോരൊ ചിന്തകളിൽ മുഴുകി ഇരിക്കെ സമയം പോയതു അറഞ്ഞില്ല. വൈകുന്നേരമായപ്പോൾ ബിൽഡിഗിലെ വീടുകളിൽ നിന്നും അമ്മമാർ അവരവരുടെ കുട്ടി'കളുമായി താഴെ പാർക്കിൽ വരുന്നു. കുട്ടികളെ കളിക്കാൻ വിട്ടിട്ടു കുറച്ചു മാറി സ്വൈര്യമായി ഇരുന്നു കൊച്ചുവർത്തമാനങ്ങൾ പറഞ്ഞിരിക്കുന്നു.
ഒരു ട്രെയിൻ യാത്രയിൽ ജനാലയിലൂടെ കാണുന്ന കാഴ്ചകൾ ഓടി മറയുന്നതിനേക്കാൾ വേഗത്തിൽ സംസാരവിഷയങ്ങൾ മാറിമറയുന്നതു ഒരു കൗതുകം ആയി തോന്നി. കുട്ടികൾ പലയിടത്തൂടെ ഓടി കളിക്കുന്നുണ്ട് . തന്നെ കളിച്ചും, തമ്മിൽ തല്ലിയും ചിലർ, കൂട്ടംകൂടിയും അല്ലാതെയും മറ്റു ചിലർ... തെന്നി തെറിച്ചു നടക്കുന്ന അവരെ കണ്ടപ്പോൾ ആട്ടിൻകുട്ടികളെ ഓർമ വന്നു. അതെ, അതു തന്നെ ഒരു പറ്റം ആട്ടിൻകുട്ടികൾ! ആടുകളെ കൂടുതുറന്നു പുല്ലു മേയാൻ വിട്ടിട്ടു കുറച്ചകലെ സൊറ പറഞ്ഞിരുന്നു വിശ്രമിക്കുന്ന ആട്ടിടയൻമാർ ആയി അമ്മമാർ. എന്റെ കൺമുന്നിൽ അവർ അങ്ങിനെ ആയി മാറിയ പോലെ. തുള്ളിച്ചാടി നടക്കുന്ന കുഞ്ഞാടുകൾ. ചിലർ മേഞ്ഞുനടക്കുന്നു, ചിലർ കൊമ്പുകോർക്കുന്നു, മറ്റു ചിലർ തന്റെതായ ലോകത്തു സ്വയം മുഴുകി നടക്കുന്നു. കൂട്ടത്തിൽ സാഹസികരും, അതിസാഹസികരും കൂട്ടം തെറ്റി നടക്കുന്നതെമ്മാടികളും ഒക്കെ ഉണ്ട്. വികൃതികൂടുമ്പോൾ വിളി വരും, കേട്ടില്ലെങ്കിൽ വടികൊണ്ടു അടിയും വീഴും. സൂര്യൻ പടിഞ്ഞാറൻ ചക്രവാളങ്ങളിൽ ഒരു ചെമ്പു തളിക പോലെ കാണപ്പെട്ടു. അധികം വൈകാതെ ഇരുൾ അണയും. വെളിച്ചം വീശി വിളക്കുമരങ്ങളും കെട്ടിടങ്ങളും ഉണ്ടാകും എങ്കിലും, സമയം ഏറെ വൈകും. ആട്ടിടയന്മാർ പൊടി തട്ടിക്കൊണ്ടു എണീറ്റു തന്റേതായ ആട്ടിൻകുട്ടികളെ തിരിച്ചു വിളിച്ചു. അനുസരണയുള്ളവ ഓടി അടുത്തു. ചിലർ "മാ പ്ലീസ് ,മാ പ്ലീസ്ന്നു"  കരഞ്ഞു. അശ്രദ്ധരായ ചിലർ കേട്ട ഭാവം നടിക്കാതെ കളി തുടർന്നു. ചിന്നി ചിതറിയ ആട്ടിൻകൂട്ടത്തെ വടി വീശി തടുത്തു കൂട്ടി അവർ മുന്നോട്ടു നടന്നു. എല്ലാരും അവരവരുടെ കൂടുകളിലെക്കു മെല്ലെ മടങ്ങി. പാർക്ക് നിശബ്ദം. അല്പം നേരം കൂടി അവിടെ ഇരുന്നിട്ടു തിരികെ പോകാൻ ഒരുങ്ങുമ്പോൾ ഒരു കുളിർ കാറ്റ് ആ ദിനത്തെ മെല്ലെ പാടി ഉറക്കുന്നതു അറിയാൻ കഴിഞ്ഞു.

Navaneeth - 100 days young and growing...

Every moment is magical,
And this moment specially is.
For You have come a long way,
From birth to this wonderful day.

May this be the sweet beginning
Of a blessed 100 years to come.
Life's worth every single bit
& may you ever cherish it. 

Waiting for you

This distance cuts my heart so deep,
Every night I sit and weep.
On this thought my heart takes a leap,
In your arms I wish to sleep.

We moved in search of a fresh start
But promised never to depart.
In one world but far apart,
you're my sweetheart.

Each moment is Hope's new ray,
There will come a time anyway,
Patiently,  I wait for that day
Then forever with you I can stay.

To My Newborn

With you, my son,
life's new chapter has begun.
Your tender face so tiny;
I look at you only to find me.
I kiss you to tell you're mine.

So light and so calm
As you sleep in my arm,
Little fingers wrapped around mine,
A Sense of pride run down my spine.
A miracle you are to me.

As a smile bloom on your lips,
And your little eyes flicks,
Or when a bad dream make you weep
And disturb your smooth sleep,
I kiss you to tell you're fine.

I wake up in the middle of the night
Just to watch you sleep tight.
To keep away illness and fear,
A prayer or two I whisper in your ear.
It's your happiness I wish to see.

You,  my son,  my precious little boy
the reason to my heart's joy,
May God's grace be upon us
As life progress;
May we never be apart.