Me-time.

So the days when r~ decides to skip her nap and go to sleep early (weekends), it's like we earned ourselves a few hours in which to relax and do nothing. Time to myself. Read a book, eat ice-cream, watch a movie, do nothing. But, usually these two me-time hours turn out to be more stressful for me than not having them because all the time I spend doing something in those 2 hours, I constantly tell myself, it's my precious me-time and I better make the best use of it! And then, I think of all the other things I can be doing in these hours and that list of course is endless eventually making me more stressed than if I just went to bed and slept with r~.

As soon as I hear her little snores, my thought process is something like this:

Check time. 8.15. Good. Lots of time to do stuff.
What first?
3 books am in the middle of...haven't  blogged in ages...that JavaScript article that I have been meaning to listen to...oh! New episode of BigBangTheory...clean house...
Feel a bit rushed. I reach out to my computer without having decided what to do.
Land on fb and twitter.
9.45?! How did this happen?
Hurriedly reach out to book and flip pages without focusing.
15 minutes later, remember something to buy from Amazon.
Back on the computer.
Blog done.
11.30? Have to sleep early, work tomorrow.
Recheck twitter account. Also linkedIn and pinterest.
12.00 -- thinking I will be so annoyed tomorrow with less sleep.
Stress about books not read and remaining blogs left undone.
House same mess as found 2 hours earlier.

Next time, I can do without these 2 hours. And come to think of it, without the internet!

Got to do yoga. One more item to add to my me-time list. Great.

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On architecting...life

I am a planner. I plan parties, get-togethers, gifts and just about everything and put in a lot of energy and time into it. I like doing that. I liked planning and preparing for the arangetram, the job change, the city change...the life change. But sometimes, I feel like I should take a break and just experience life the way it is. Without the looking ahead and the constant churning to shape the future course of events.

K often points out that even before he has completed a chore, I am on to the next one, planning what needs to be completed next. And he is right. I am uncomfortable being complacent. I understand complacency is different from being at peace and I can do the latter without bringing in stagnation in my life. But, I find it hard to draw a line between the two. Sometimes, I have to consciously tell myself to enjoy this moment, this point in space that I am at, that I seemingly architected but probably had more to do with powers higher than me and words difficult to comprehend like destiny and the universe. But, I like to think I had something to do with it because it makes me feel a little bit more secure in this world of uncertainties.

I have no idea what tomorrow will bring but I can pretend to choreograph a part of it to my liking because well, that is all I can do. If that pretense of control leaves my hand, then I am vulnerable and I don't necessarily want that realization dawning bright and clear on me -- as long as it's somewhere in the back of my mind, that's fine and I can continue to plan and architect my life. In little ways that are important to me. Now, if only I can add the taking-a-few-minutes-to-smell-the-flowers bit...

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The wall.

I wonder if people read blogs anymore. In this time of status updates and millisecond micro updates aka tweets, do people have the patience to read personal blogs anymore? I ask because there was a time when I used to read blogs and the only blogs I seem to be reading now are technical ones. Instead, I log onto Facebook and stare at my wall. Now, the wall is many things at once. It's sort of a buzzing microcosm of lives (reminds me of Michael Crichton's 'Prey'). Much like Jack's beanstalk, there is no limit to its growth. If you run out of new status updates to read, you can always go back in history and read what people thought two days back (If explained to someone a decade back, they might have questioned the very sanity of why one would do that). And here we are, trying to cling on to the wall while at the same time peering over our shoulders to stare at the drama unfolding elsewhere on the wall.

    meets :) 

I guess in a way, our virtual life has brought us back full circle. Man was and will always be a social animal. Perhaps earlier, he dropped by a neighbour's house to catch up on the little town gossip and lives of others and later; he dialed a bunch of numbers to do the same over the phone. He then progressed to chatting and developed a whole new language to do that. And now, he has multiple ways to share his life with all those people. Which is fun, come to think of it. Who doesn't like talking about themselves? And now, I can share my thoughts on my wall or tweet them and I have the satisfaction that I have sent me 2 cents out to the world at large to ponder upon.

This new way of virtual living raises some interesting questions. How does a person maintain a sense of mystery about him (assuming he wants to)? A friend of mine has not gotten herself a Facebook account. Still (I know!). She considers it a waste of time. Hmm, can't say I entirely agree with her. I follow technical pages on Facebook and I find a lot of useful information there. Even my workplace holds virtual conversations on Facebook! So, back to the mystery question. FB is addictive, we all know that but it also sorts of blurs boundaries that earlier existed in traditional settings. Take our workplace, for example. My colleagues are my facebook friends and know that r~ made a bookmark in the Morris book shop last Saturday, for example. And that little bit of info, somehow changes their perception of me. I am not sure if that's a good thing or not. It makes people seem more human -- all these random bits of trivia about them...

There's the whole long tail argument. If I were a salwaar-kameez clad, modern but tom-boyish teenage girl who likes languages but hates Math and also likes Savannah from Savannah, I might just find someone just like that on FB and then we can start a fan page with an uncommonly long name :)

And then, there's the whole twitching-fingers syndrome -- the urge to constantly stay up to date on the happenings of the wall. I wonder if the constant (albeit) slight adrenaline rush when we are privy to a new information bit will make our normal life seem a tad more boring? Nothing is happening every second of the day (except maybe your 2 year old let water flow from the sink to all the restroom shelves and let them soak the soft bathroom mats...oh! Long story!). And then, there was this article I read recently about how FB actually makes people sadder because they keep comparing themselves (some unconsciously) to the happy pictures and delightful wall updates and thinking their own lives don't match up (which is unrealistic, no one leads lives smiling with their face smushed to their lovely child's cheek all the time -- the next second, the child, for all we know, took a nice dab of blue paint and marked it on both their faces...)

Not sure what to make of all this innovation. Technology is changing. And we, with it. Of that, I am sure.

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Nose piercing, technology and r2i -- in other words, random!

So let's see, where do I start? I'll begin by talking about my latest obsession -- my nose piercing. I was so excited to get my nose pierced. It seemed like something daring and different and it still does seem that way except that I have a little bump the size of my nose ring right next to it! And yesterday, the lady at the gym started at it as she spoke. Arrrg. This actually reminded me of that episode in Friends where Chandler says he couldn't date that woman because she has a gunk of mascara sitting at the corner of her eye :p Anyway, I have two options -- ditch the nose ring or patiently wait out the bump on my nose. Not happy about either option.

Edited: So last night, I went to that piercing lady to ask if my nose was going to vanish under a big bubble. So, the impression I had of the lady was this: that she was hep and looked cool with all those weird piercings (too many for me but still...), she was efficient with the piercing and said, "If you have any trouble at all, call me, I am Kari" and I thought, "Gee! What a nice lady! And cool too!" Yesterday though, I came back with a different opinion of her. She saw me come in and the smile literally vanished from her face (probably because she knew I wasn't a paying customer -- just a "return visit customer"), she tried her best to appear disinterested in my...nose and my questions. She didn't smile except in the end to say, "Have a nice day!" and there was no, "Contact me if your nose vanishes..." kind of promises. k said the moment she saw my face, she sat down heavily on her chair (as if she wouldn't budge even if I sprouted a second nose!) So I came out thinking, "How did I ever think this woman was friendly and stylish?" Even her piercings seemed ugly. I guess external beauty really does depend on what goes below the radar. Anyway, I don't recommend Bleed Blue for this very reason -- pretty miserable after sales care.

I really didn't want to discuss my nose piercing in this post but at least it got me to write something. I am feeling sort of restless these days and I feel like I should do something really cliched like ditch facebook for a month or stay off the laptop the whole weekend or something like that. But, I bet that's what people said when cell phones were the rage and really it sort of blended into mainstream culture pretty easily. Maybe that's what will happen with social networking sites too. Everywhere I look, I see, "Catch me on youtube, twitter, fb, check our my blog blah blah". I had an interesting discussion with a friend the other day and she said she didn't really have a facebook account and didn't care for one and that got me thinking. She had her reasons of course -- privacy, waste of time etc. Nothing new there but still, I went ahead and made most of r~'s photos private on fb. I didn't go so far as deleting my account but I felt I had taken a step towards...towards something. I don't really know what that's a step toward! The other day, we went for a walk and k was staring at his new android OS cell phone for most of the walk. When he eventually showed me what he was staring at, I was hooked in too (it was an app that could identify a star if you pointed your cellphone at a star in the sky!) but still a walk is something pristine and peaceful and calming...a device in the mix ruins it! I feel like r~ is missing out on some basic experiences and growing up just like today's iBabies. Instead of listening to her grandma sing thamizh paatu or her thatha tell her stories, she is growing up (with me singing out of tune Tamil songs but also) listening to Nila, Nila on her Tamil DVDs and watching "Ennamma thozhi" on youtube.

The other day, I watched two 5-6 year olds spend a couple of hours sitting on the couch in front of a video game instead of out playing in the sun! I don't really know if r2i is the solution for helping a child grow up with a wholesome mix of things but I am not getting very far here with the desi experience. I try my best though with what I have -- I religiously speak to her in Tamil at home, restrict how much TV she watches (nothing except her baby DVDs and only for drinking her choco milk -- yes, she is that picky with her milk!), make sure she sees me or k light the vilakku and pray everyday but I feel she misses out on people-experience. Perhaps we miss out on it too. I am not a big fan of the huge combined family drama but staying in close proximity to her grandparents is something more beneficial than what she has here. And things that we struggle for here -- like teaching an Indian language or Indian culture will come naturally if we actually lived in India (instead of faking it :)

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Philately and stuff.

We all dabbled at philately when we were kids. A few years later, the stamp books were forgotten and we switched to the next hobby. I never though "adults" indulged much in hobbies at that time. Hobbies was something kids did for fun. Some times it turned out to be a life long passion and I would picture the intelligent looking gentleman in glasses and a brown beard showing off his exotic stamp collection to admiring oohs and aahs but I didn't think the normal folks did much hobby-wise -- they were too busy leading lives.

So, recently k told me about a book he had read on retirement (Yes, he has been obsessed with that for quite some time now) and he said the basic advice in the book was sure, retire early, go for that world tour and sign up for that salsa class but have a fall back -- something you are passionate about and have been doing on a regular basis, something you can continue to do even after you retire so you don't start feeling depressed with the void that the lack of a regular work routine creates and the kids have gone to colleges, so there is no day to day "busy-ness" to keep your mind occupied. I wondered if this is a desi phenomenon, the result of not having completely integrated into the culture and life here? Would this be the same if I retired in India? Somehow, I think with the people and the sounds and the general life there, one would not have to worry about a stifling, suffocating loneliness post retirement. I am guessing one wouldn't have to worry about driving to the grocery store in the middle of winter and navigating the store with a walking stick either. Kids do leave the nest there too but a middle income couple after retirement can afford to get some tasks done at least with paid help and mostly, the grocery store will have an in home delivery method that doesn't cost an arm and a leg (The last I knew, it was still free). Even if I do retire in Chennai (let's assume) and say my kids are elsewhere, the maid and the regular folks still come home and I still have basic human contact even on the days I feel too tired to visit someone's house. Here, perhaps I would live in a city where I have similar retired friends and unless we make an attempt to drive by their place and spend time with them, it's possible an entire day passes with no real people talking and no one for company but electronic devices and the hum of the AC and refrigerator. I guess, I am just painting an overly bleak picture but every time I see old people struggling in Kroger to carry and manage their bags, I wonder if I am heading there by choosing to live in this country (not that I have made that decision already...I dwell in hypotheticals, you must know that by now!)

And so coming back to the question of hobbies...I guess the book states that if we pursue a hobby of our choice and invest time in it, make connections, find like minded people, that will keep us going through retirement. And perhaps if a week has passed without a call from the kids, it still won't be that bad because we still have basic human contact and we can still spend time with people we like doing the things we like.

Is that why k has taken to running, I wonder? Me? I am going to stick to books and dancing for now. Hopefully they will tide me through our lonely retirement but who knows, maybe I will be in India by then and just wishing for some quiet and peace asking myself why it feels like I am working even when I am supposed to be leading a leisurely, retired life!

Edited: I meant to pen this earlier but got distracted with other thoughts. I think the support system for desis in this country makes it harder to follow up on and be passionate about our hobbies. Given our Indian style of parenting where the kids are not exactly tucked in by 8.30 PM and you  have the rest of the night to relax, even finding little chunks of time where you can concentrate on your hobby becomes a challenge. And for every such chunk of time you find to focus on your hobby, it also means time away from your spouse whom you think you might not recognize in a crowd(:p) thanks to hardly any time spent talking/alone with him. The few free moments we get are spent discussing the baby or house chores. It's hard for a couple to find that one single hobby to spend time on together. Add it all together and you basically have chopped away at your quality time with your spouse for the sake of your hobby. So Saturday mornings find me alone with the baby when he is running or him alone with the baby when I am dancing and that's the price we pay for our hobbies. Somehow, I think it will be easier if we had close family we could leave our child with for those few hours or at least close family we can hang out with, with the baby, because the loneliest part of taking care of a child is the lack of adult company -- we all know that! And yes, we can hire a baby-sitter but I am not sold on the merits of that idea (yet). Where does all this leave us? With a happy toddler and zero date nights and our somewhat ignored hobbies :-)

Ok, I know this is a random post but managing toddlers means having no time to nicely organize your thoughts in little compartments and then express them (Time kidacha eduthuko illati aduvum illa!) -- so do expect more randomness from me.

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Life skills and a story.

Everyone complains that the current schooling system is outdated -- large volumes of information that we are forced to read although we are not interested in it and we probably will end up forgetting most of it by the end of the year anyway to name a few. L~ sent me a link about a couple of kids who were home schooled in a pretty unconventional way by their parents -- they were just encouraged to read about their interests and they ended up scoring more in their SATs than most traditionally schooled kids. That's an interesting experiment, one that I would probably be too chicken to try on r~ but nice to know.

Anyway, one skill that they did not teach me at school is life skills! Duh, that's what you learn by living, you say? Well yes but a little help along the way would have gone a long way. Recently, I noticed that I was not very equipped with dealing with difficult situations at Tachibana (of all places!) So, we had gone there to send off a friend who was quitting work to establish her own business (so cool!) and as expected most of the items on the menu were not vegetarian which was a bit awkward for me and s~. So, here we are sitting around this round table, 15-20 of us from work and we are trying to ask the waiter if x was meat-free, the sauce was meat-free and also trying to make ourselves understood. By the end of it, I was slightly turning pink and wondering if I was creating a scene. Just then, k~ turns to s~ and me and says, "You might want to make sure the rice is not rolled in pork sauce" and he laughed when he caught our eyes popping out. The joke put me at ease and then I forgot all about the awkwardness.

The other time, another coworker had posted a Facebook status update about a difficult time his family was going through and how they had managed to pull through -- the entire story was published in a local newspaper and he had posted a link to the article. I went through a series of emotions -- empathy, sympathy, sadness, guilt (don't ask)...and then left a "Happy for you...blah" -- one of those standard, trademark responses. And then I read a comment left by another of my coworkers, something along the lines of "Neat stuff...the article didn't mention that you continue to be a healthy, robust young man...(something about his volleyball skills)" and it made me laugh. Here it was again -- a light-hearted comment for a heavy situation that worked!

And I was thinking, where do they pick these skills from? This ability to joke in the face of adversity, awkwardness and this ability to dispel an embarrassing/sad situation and inject smiles into it? So anyway, that's the kind of education I wish I had received. Perhaps, it's the American schooling system; while it has its drawbacks, maybe it teaches what Indian schools fail to teach? Maybe one day, I'll watch r~ interact in a formal crowd and learn from her ;)

For now, here's something I do know to do (or I claim to know to do :): a 3 minute short story based on a photo.
(Woohoo! 100 fans on my facebook page!)

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About grass and India and women and the pursuit of happiness.

How much truth is there to the observation that the grass is greener on the other side? It's become one of those tired old cliches but what exactly is it supposed to mean? That no matter where you are in life, you want to be or do something the person across is doing? Is it just a cliche to hide petty jealousies and envies behind a thin veneer of words? Anyway, this week is ♪repetition vaaaaaram♪ as they would say on Sun TV and so I am going to type up my thoughts as quick as I can (Unfortunately, I do have some work that needs to be done today) before I head home.

So, I've heard of several theories that claim that choices inherently make a human being less happy. Simple choices, simple life, peace. By that definition America would be a very unhappy country but I'll put that thought in the back burner for now (As my English teacher at DAV used to say). Going by that logic, if I did not have a choice to come to America or a choice to go back to India now, would I be happier? Does that mean me would have been happier living in Des having never lived and experienced life in this country? Or would I be one of those folks who really wanted to come abroad but for some reason or just bad luck maybe could not? And then, would I be spending my days envying the greener grass on the other side?

And if I did not have a choice to return to dear old mera Bharath mahaan now, would I be happier because my life is lived here and can only be lived here (because of whatever reason)? Or would I then be cursing my luck for not having saved enough or worked hard enough to move back to India? Would I be envying those brave and fortunate people who actually crossed the seas back home? I can't say for sure because I am not in a position where the choice is not available for me.

This brings me to another question about us women. As a teenager, I was a little bit of a feminist in the sense that I viewed the hard life of women and the lack of recognition as a misery that they tolerated because they had no choice. But then, did they tolerate that life or were they happy living under a roof with their family able to cook and provide food for the umpteen mouths that needed to be fed? And the husband that needed to be appeased at the end of a hard day's work? Were they just happy that they had it in them to do so much -- cook, clean, birth, please day after day? Or did they see it as a drudgery that they had no escape from? Did the lack of choice make them happier than modern women? We keep coming across statistics that claim modern women make more money, have more freedom and yet are unhappier while the men folk have raced ahead in terms of happiness. Is this because we have so many choices in front of us -- work/stay at home, provide outside care for your child/care for your child at home or even the basic cook/take out? I guess for women of the previous generation -- providing outside care for kids, working outside the house, ordering take outs were not an option, were they? They did their jobs and at the end of the day, snored their way into the next chore-filled morning. But, what went on in their heads? Just thoughts about how to manage the children and their school work and house hold chores and finance? Or did they dream of some version of me-time too? :)

It's hard to generalize and banish choices as evil. Sometimes choices rock -- Hersheys Bliss white chocolate or Lindt white chocolate? (Provided you are not thinking, exercise to lose the extra pounds or just pack them on and give up the slim-wicked-mom-figure ideal)...

So, if it's all in the mind and it's all about choices, can anyone be happy pretending their life was the one choice they had and they better work at it and make it the best one they had? You know, how you keep hearing about people who survived accidents or were laid off and the shock jolted them towards what they really wanted in their lives? Perhaps if we are clever enough, we can sort of do the jolting without the precursor. Just put our minds on time-out and ask them to sort the mess inside them asap -- basically, Quit crapping and go get a life, willya?!

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Restless spirit

I remember watching a movie a long time ago about this woman who moves because she gets restless in one place (Was it Chocolat?). I feel like that nowadays. I am trying to figure out if my life goes in circles alternating between at-peace and restless or if this feeling is genuine and I really need a change.

When I was at Bits, while I managed to have a wonderful time, at the back of my mind, I kept wishing for a transfer to the Computer Science stream. I would dream of it day in and day out, hoping I would earn a GPA high enough to transfer to it end of the first year. I had a pretty good GPA but not > 9.5 which was what was needed to transfer to Computer Science. I would look at my friends who had enrolled for the 5 year degree BSc + an engineering degree and wonder if I should have done the same because my GPA would have enabled me to do a 5 year course with Computer Science...anyway, that's all water under the bridge...

And finally, I did manage to get a Masters in that exact field and all the while stressed about getting a job. I wished to be confident like all those people who had an undergraduate degree also in the same field. Finally, the job arrived and then I started this whole nostalgia drama about returning to India.

And now, the latest to my list is to quit my job and become a stay at home mom. There. I have said it out aloud. That's what I want to do. But, I am just scared of the consequences of quitting. Also, at this point, I am not really certain of my reasons for wanting to quit. I just know they are many and they drop in for a tete-a-tete almost every day. To the point where I am sitting in a meeting and mentally going over a checklist of my reasons to quit and how we'll handle the financial side of it.

On one level, I do see the advantages of my position. I have a job that is relatively stress free and has many benefits but something doesn't feel right and am trying to place my finger on it. My motivation seems to have gone in for a late hibernation and I reckon it's not coming back any time soon. Also even if I do end up getting a super interesting assignment at work (which is certainly not the case now), do I want it? r~ seems to have entered an unbelievably cute phase and I really don't want to miss it -- we actually have conversations which is wonderful and makes my eyes well up with pride...I can't really tell until that actually happens and I have to spend extra hours at work, I guess.

So anyway, where does that leave me? k tells me I'll get bored at home. So, I asked him where I would find the time to get bored?! r~ should take care of that part for me.

Some people quietly argue in their heads and then confidently take a decision and make peace with it. I am not one of them. I ponder and rethink and analyze and ask and consult and then finally when everyone's done with it, I take the leap and hence this post.

For now, my mind is a mess of questions and...possibilities. The grass is oh-so-verdant now on the other side, I want to take the jump right now and live my life the way I want to! Gonna be logical about this and flip a coin soon as I go home.

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The road to independence.

Sometimes, I think I am in the wrong place. I suppose I could attribute this to my laziness too but I won't do that. Instead, I'll proceed assuming I am right.

"This" is a place that values independence and privacy. That's great, extremely cool especially when you want to tune out the blah..blahs of well-meaning people who want to improve your lives. But then, unlike k, I never really had much of a problem with "well meaning advice" from folks. I like to ask people for their opinions and even if they happen to offer it when I didn't ask for it, it's not too much of a big deal (Unless of course, you are living with me and forcing me to follow your advice which doesn't happen often anyway).

But, "this" is also a place where they expect you to drive alone to the grocery store when it's freezing outside and you are an octogenarian! Ok, I admit. India also is not full of youngsters rushing out to do the shopping for their aging grandparents. But, at least in India, you can afford it (Yes, there are poor people in India, really really poor people but this post is not about them) and it's not so cold (Ok fine, silly point, I can move to Florida but I won't, so there!)

"This" is a place where a mom drives her few weeks old baby alone for a doctor's appointment (No comforting grandma in the backseat regaling the child with stories of "When your mom was little..." or cute Tamil baby songs). The baby is probably screaming in the back facing car-seat and the mom has no option but to drive. There are moms that do that here and look competent and unfrazzled. Not me! I don't think I have it in me to take Radhika alone to a doc's appointment (at least when she was little and she would do those scary, purple-faced, breathless cries!)

And then there are the small things -- the devil of the matter! The whole DIY culture! I just am not a part of it! I find it hard to take the trash outside -- no, not because I am lazy but because it's icy outside, the trash is heavy and it has to be lifted outside to dump. Not an easy task for a muscle-challenged woman like me! Then, there are the regular household maintenance stuff -- a leaky faucet, an un-mowed lawn, an un-caulked hole leaking cold air, a broken storm door; a million small worries that can't be fixed by me! Yes, I can take a wood-working course and I can learn to repair the faucet but it's tedious and tiresome and I just don't have the energy to learn that and then attempt to fix it or even to nag k for the nth time get it done. I can call Benjamin Franklin each time to fix the flush but that costs a nice $150!

And then there are the weird unknown places to drive to -- for doctor's appointments, for your children's classes, for stuff to buy! I am not a big fan of driving but I manage pretty decently somehow except when one of these adventure routes crop up and then I have lost all ability to navigate and drive! Add a baby in this mix and I am one lost and dependent woman. I mean, I can't just park by the side when I am driving on New Circle road and wave down the nearest dude to ask for directions while Rads sits happily talking to herself in the back-seat (Ha haa!), can I? Seriously, where are the affordable auto rickshaws when you need them? (Yes admittedly, they do take their shares of U-turns and Rs.200 over the meter but they take you where you need to go and in the end that's all matters.)

It's like the more I make myself independent -- learn to drive, learn to drive with Rads (Yes, big difference!), learn to hang a photo frame(!), the more they creep up all around me and the more dependent I seem to become!

So, I'll say it. I like being an independent woman in some respects. That's a highly qualified declaration. If being an independent woman here means to seal your garage so your bedroom right above it doesn't feel like it's in Iceland then no, I really don't want to be that woman spending 3 hours with pink foam, sticking it patiently to the garage shutter (which incidentally is what k did). If being independent means wearing rugged overalls and roaming around with a heavy hammer and a set of 18 different screws, nope, not me. I know where the turn-off valve is for our water supply and there ends my knowledge of faucet problems!

I can give birth, take care of baby, code, cook, clean the house, dance and write but there ends my level of independence. In that respect, I suppose I am a traditional Indian woman, aren't I? The million other things that this place expects an independent woman to do, I can't or really just don't want to. So, am I just a h4 visa :p?

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Being grateful.

L~ sent me a link a few months ago about this blog which is about three things that the blogger is grateful for everyday. So, a new post a day each of which describes why the blogger is thankful for something in her life. And I filed away the blog in my head to refer back to it sometime in the future. Of late, my head seems to be constantly reeling with to-dos and tasks, consumed by day-to-day routines and rigours and I thought I should make a conscious effort to remind myself to unwind and as wise Van put it (to letitgooooooo).

Part of this effort is to attempt a technology-free day -- no TV, no phones and gasp! No internet! Of course, the project promises to be a spectacular failure thanks to k's total disinterest and distaste for the whole idea. So, what do you guys think? Is the idea too cliched to work? Or will the very thought that we can't lean upon technology to kill our boredom and contribute to our entertainment will make us more stressed? What will we do instead, you ask? But, with a toddler in tow, I wonder if going tech-free will make any difference to my day except after r~ has slept for the night (1-2 hours me-time at the most) and then, I always have my book tower to fall back upon. What this exercise will probably buy me is my inability to access facebook and my online tadalist...hmm. Not much but everyone keeps claiming how going back to a slower paced world will fix all woes and so I thought this was worth a shot!

Meanwhile, my three thanks go to:

Hari:

"Ramya?"

Me (holding back tears at Atlanta airport, August 2000 -- first day in America): "Yes..."

"Naan hari? Nyaabagama iruka? Bits senior...mechanical engineering..."

"Oh" (His face vaguely familiar was like that of a guardian angel's)

"Are you ok?"

I give him a hesitant nod and show him my boarding pass.

"You have to catch the train to go to that terminal...you know that right?"

"No..." (At this point, my eyes are watering up...what train? Where?)

He points to where a few people stand with luggages and says, "You need to board this train and get down at your terminal..."

"Ok...", I say in a small voice.

He hesitates, "You know I can come with you if you want...was waiting to receive a few friends..."

"No, I'll manage..." (Please come, I say in my head. I am scared and alone and my luggage tore and the nasty lady at the counter screamed at me, "Expecting to sue the airport I suppose? With your cheap old baggage from India" and I shook my head vigorously and she dismissed me with a "Seal your bag and get it". I waited helplessly until a kindly old American gentleman sealed my suitcase in a plastic wrap and patted my shoulder when I thanked him profusely...)

"Sure? Ok, I'll walk with you..."

And he waits until I board the train. I am busy trying to balance my overstuffed hand luggage and am thrown off balance momentarily when the train starts. I manage to get off at the right terminal and the rest as they say is history.

So...thanks Hari for being there that day and saving my day. Some day maybe we will meet and I will remember to thank you properly...

Salooja, Lakshmi, Anusha:

All of them my school buddies. Their faces are just vague silhouttes for me today but I enjoyed their friendships while they lasted...for reasons I can't fully recall I lost touch with them. I remember why Lakshmi stopped talking to me like she used to...

"Lakshmi, Ramya...stand up!" My Geography teacher? Or was it Math teacher? I can't remember but I do remember she sounded extremely displeased that we were whispering to each other while she droned on about something she felt was of utmost importance.

"Stop talking in class."

We both being "good students" hung our heads in shame.

"Ramya, don't let Lakshmi spoil you also!"

And that was that. Lakshmi although a conscientious student seldom stood within the top three ranks (which I did). And after that day, Lakshmi maintained her distance. I was too immature to discuss the incident openly and here I am today.

Salooja had the sweetest round face of any girl I have ever known. She was gentle and mild-mannered and just happy to go along with my ideas. I suppose I was the bossy one then but in general she had a calming influence on me and I felt protective around her -- she was this delicate sort of girl. I don't remember why we didn't stay in touch...

Anusha was this bubbly, boyish, cute girl. I was very fond of her. I can't even remember why. Just remember that she had this cute front flick and she was fun to hang out with.

Thanks to you girls for being really great girl friends. I miss you and even more because I don't have any girl (or best) friends so to speak (just friends and family friends).

Radha:

When I was still a freshie at Bits, one of the final year seniors, Radha, called me to her room (they were supposed to be the worst raggers) and I was terrified. The first thing she asked me to do was to fill her water bottle with water :p She wore glasses and looked smart with her hair high up in a pony tail. But the ragging was not quite what I expected. She asked me what I read and we discovered we liked the same books. We discussed Darcy (who else?) and quite a few other characters from novels and three hours later she said I was free to go! I came out shocked that I had talked so much to a senti-semite and that it was a thoroughly enjoyable experience!

A few days later at our mess, I heard "Freshieeee" and my heart stopped. A pretty girl dressed in a faint pink saree gestured me to her table. Several other seniors sat with her and I carried my lunch plate and stood with my head bowed in front of her, "Yes ma'am."

She stared at me for a few minutes and I didn't know what to say, "Yes ma'am aaa? Ada paavi? Don't you remember me?"

I hastily tried to place her but by then she was already waving me off. And a few minutes later it came back to me. Radha minus the pony tail and glasses. Dressed in a saree instead of western wear and wearing contacts and a bindi! I felt a sudden urge to rush back to her table and apologize but I was still a scared freshie and decided not to test my luck.

A year later when it was graduation night, Radha and Sowmya (her best friend) cried and hugged each other because they were leaving Bits and I thought it would be pretty awesome to have a best friend who would cry and hug you when you left college. That didn't happen. Of course, I didn't know it then and I really wished that would be true in my case also.

So thank you Radha for a fantastic ragging experience. If we met now, we would have so much to talk about.

Why these people? When I could thank a million others? I don't know. Just picked the first few people that came knocking at my mental door step when I dug back into black and white photos in my head...and I really do feel better now. Being thankful is an awesome feeling indeed.

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Motherhood & Babyville -- a post for women mostly.

(...although will be refreshing if you are a guy and you still want to read the post. 100 words down if you are still reading, man, you rock!)

I recently submitted an article on motherhood for a magazine contest. And I wrote that while motherhood is about sweet gurgles, the pitter-patter of tiny feet and wet sloppy first kisses, it is much more than what the outside world sees. The whole world told me my life was going to change after a baby. There is much truth in that and li'l r~ is now a year old and I don't know if my life is back to normal yet. So, I figured I would alter what normal is so I can get over that issue and carry on with life.

The past two days, I have been dwelling over how being r's mom has transformed me, not just because of the article but also because of this book I read called Babyville. I started off criticizing the book for being superficial but as I continued to read, I could identify bits of myself (albeit very tiny bits at times) in all the three moms in the book. Yes, there was a time (I believe, 4 weeks after r~ was born) when I wondered if I had the famous baby-blues or it's nasty sibling, PPD. 6 months, post-partum when I was still a walking zombie, I wondered if I was making a big mistake by not even considering the Crying-it-out method. After all, happy, sane mom a requisite for happy baby, right? At that time, I didn't quite chalk my walking-dead-routine down to thyroid issues (which is what I would discover later on -- a drastically over-zealous or sluggish thyroid gland and just for fun, keep alternating it so the endoc could never know for sure!)

And now, I am no longer post-partum even by my extended definition (k claims it's 6 weeks, not 1 year!) So, I no longer have a valid excuse for: my 15 extra pounds (I swear, I will sign up for the gym if I cross 125 now; enough is enough!), my lack of energy in the evenings, my most favored costume of the day -- pjs...and so on. I am past the stage where moms with kindly eyes (and the rest of the world, also with kindly eyes :) who have been-there-dunnit inquire about my birth story. I can't slack off in bed saying I am recovering. And soon, when my mom leaves, it's just up to me and k to keep r~ safe, healthy, happy, intellectually-stimulated and the million other things that toddlers need. In reality, they will probably grow up to be perfectly fine, whether or not moms like me stress over which vaccines to delay, which organic baby food to trust, which toy not to buy, how much TV to watch and so on. But stress, I do. I believe it's part of the job-description.

I miss the attention-phase. The phase when a woman is pregnant and people coo and ooh and are super nice to you (That must be how celebrities feel, I guess). And then we sort of melt to the background -- and rightfully! Baby outcutes mom anyday! -- but it's also sort of anti-climactic; suddenly we are moms now who ought to know how to get their act together. The past 1/2 year, I think exactly one of my friends asked me how I felt -- a question that was put to me a million times when I was pregnant. I find it somewhat annoying when people suddenly start addressing me momma. Hello? Not your momma! Like suddenly they can't be bothered to find out your first name. "Momma! Baby will be fine, it's just a little shot!", "Momma, come and sign this paper please!" 'Course am proud am a mother but a mother to my precious, not to every odd person on earth!

And then there's the discussed-to-death family-work balance which does not exist. If you are talking about family-work-imbalance, yes, I believe that is real. When I am at work, I worry about r~ and when am with her, I worry about not making my mark at work. There are a million things I want to be doing every second -- clean the house, organize stuff, cook, write, plan, be an awesome and also very cool mom (very important, repeat "cool mom")...and I feel I don't do justice to most of it.

And being a part of mommyhood also means subtly justifying your choices maybe not all the time but it's bound to crop up sometime or the other in this journey. One child only? Stay at home mom? Day care so early? Every choice invites a comment and it's hard not to justify myself which opens the door for what else? More comments and advice. It's however hard to ignore the advice (which is what am doing currently) when it comes from your obgyn or pediatrician ("7 months and not sleeping through the night?Don't you think she might be getting a bit spoilt guys?"; "It's perfectly alright to let your baby cry when she is in the car seat, stroller, crib or anywhere else in this world. Let her cry -- is the solution to a perfect childhood" -- Ok fine. I made that last line up). One of those parenting magazines I read said, the more you blab, the more advice you are going to get, like it or not. And I am the blabbing type, unfortunately. This reminds me of two starkly contrasting statements I heard while I was pregnant: One of my friends said she felt she achieved something in her life only after her she gave birth to her first child. And another acquaintance said her life was over after her child was born.

And the book brought all this to the forefront (of my already loaded mind). And so, I am currently dwelling on all this and of course I shall dwell some here too. For what's a blog for, if not to output some of your overflowing, repetitive, inane thought processes to? And being a mom means being subjected to an overdose of that whole process.

And no, I am not going to end this post with but it's all worth it because we have a cute baby who makes it all better. It may be worth it but every motherhood article need not necessarily end with that disclaimer just because it highlighted some of the difficulties of being a mother and now it has to make up for it. I will not subject to the mommy-guilt-syndrome. At least, not this once *Sheepish grin*.

What's a mom to do when she has all this going on? Read a chick-lit and chill of course. Which is what am doing currently. Bridget Jones diary, in case you are curious or too lazy to check out my book case on the right. One day r~ will grow up and walk through this space and go, "Mom?! You lost it briefly after me?!" in a delectable American accent!

Oh and now for some fun update, The last laugh will be showcased at the Bangalore book festival! Aarg! I wish I could go. I wish I could go and do a reading or some such cool thing. Look for a stall by pothi if you are there at the exhibition! I wish I could go! If I say it enough times, the powers that be shall make it happen. Didn't you know that?

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Kids and all

I read yet another article on kids and what happens to your life after kids. And I was again startled to read a blanket statement that went something like, "People are unhappier with kids. They even admit it most times but always end with a disclaimer that states they wouldn't have it any other way; their lives are so much enriched with kids...blah". Now, this is startling for a number of reasons. Unhappy and kids? That's a very unlikely marriage. I can imagine couples being unhappy in their marriages but unhappy with kids? That's a stretch if you ask me. If kids make you unhappy, then I guess your requirements for happiness perhaps need a second draft, something more realistic and attainable?

Why does this irk me, you ask? For the obvious reason that I now have a kid and understand the pains and struggles that face parenthood, like an unending ocean of waves, crashing one after another. So, when someone comes along with this fancy statistic relating kids and unhappiness, it gets on my nerves. Why? Maybe because I am going through the experience right now and trying to stay on top of it and reading un-optimistic opinions like this makes my life seem that much harder. Maybe, I like reading material that helps reinforce my belief in my choices? Or maybe, equating kids and unhappiness seems just plain biased to me. Kids and stress. Kids and financial strains. Kids and lack of sleep. Agreed. Kids and unhappiness seems like there is some other root cause that is just convenient to transfer to kids and blame them for it.

On a somewhat related note, maybe there is some truth to the observation that more choices is just more stress for people. Life is really simpler when your choices are few. The problem with multiple choices is it offers you a variety of ways you can live your life and then it's all about defending your choices -- the kids you had or did not have, the career you have or do not have, the house you bought or did not buy. Through seemingly unrelated conversations, the subtle defense for your choices seeps through somehow. So, you find yourself justifying to others and yourself how your choices make a whole bunch of sense. I find this somewhat annoying especially when the choices people have made are quite different from mine and for that very reason maybe they find an urge to sneak in a statement validating their choices. Anyhow, that's how people are and possibly, I do that too inadvertently. So peace.

Aaah. So, am doing the single parent thingie for a week. Let's see how that goes. *Someone* is not going to be greeted by a pleasant face when he returns from his business trip if r~ keeps me sleep-deprived all week long :p

Stay tuned.

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Amul butter anyone?

After a couple of years, I decided to tag along with k and r~ to Sagar India Market to buy Indian groceries. Nothing much had changed but I did find this extremely inviting package of Amul butter beckoning to me from behind the frosty freezer door. Today, I unwrapped the package and took a big chunk of butter which I confess I ate "apadiye" (Was it the horlicks ad that went, "Appadiye saapiduven"?), no bread, no crackers, just utterly, butterly delicious Amul butter. It was all that it promised to be!

Not that I needed an excuse or anything but then I started thinking of India. The other day, I was talking to k about my evergreen topic, India vs America, the one that my dad and I always end with, "Ok, let's agree to disagree on this". I told k that somewhere in the back of my mind, there is always this thin veil of insecurity that reminds me that am not in my home country. I love America and am grateful for the life we have here, but am certain somewhere not easily accessible is this little anxious voice that cautions me to be careful and I think that voice will not be quietened by a green card or a citizenship card. That voice is here to stay.

Maybe, it's because the life we have here is what we built from scratch. Aside from a handful of close friends and a wider circle of just friends, we don't have a solid base with close people milling around us to help us if we need help. Our foundation is still new, stable but new. Maybe r~ would feel otherwise because we would have built the base on which she will build her life. She has a backup. What do we have? There are channels here, "aid" available if needed, organized care but it is not personal, it is...indifferent and that worries me.

Life throws many curve balls at us and I guess, I am trying to handle one now that has me wondering if r2i is the only sane, only safe decision there is for us. But, I guess I have gone through pretty momentous occasions here in this country and am stronger for each experience and a bit more confident. So, maybe life here is worth a shot and is the right way to go...who knows?

There is a reason for everything and I bet there is an overwhelming reason for my choice. I just have to figure it out.

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Do you have the time to smell the flowers?

Do you have the time to...

wander in a library from aisle to aisle until you find the book that just smells right?

walk along the beach on bare feet looking for shells that carry secrets of the ocean?

talk for hours together, not on the phone, not on chat, just plain, face to face talk, watching every twitch, grin and full-mouthed smile that lights up on the other face?

sit on a park bench and watch...life?

hear temple bells and indistinct chants during an early morning walk?

listen to stories narrated by aging mouths of a time when cinemas were in black and white and real life was much more colorful than now?

think of then and now, of things that were meant to be and relationships that weren't?

uni-task? To immerse yourself and be true to one task for a while?

feel someone else's pain and pleasure?

stop and watch, to slow down and smell the flowers on the way?

click add to cart and read this book? Just kidding! All of you have time for that ;)

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Scatterbrained.

Aaah. Another night in countless nights with less than 8 hours of uninterrupted sleep (where's my medal?) Side-effect being that I can't think coherently and therefore cannot write coherently. Result being this post.

I wonder if Radhika doesn't like the bottle just like I don't like the breast pump. In our quest for equal rights, we seem to have painted ourselves into a corner. Need to perform well at work, need to be great mom...Need to be a great mom, need to perform well at work, need in-laws to think am doing some level of work at home (have pretty much given up on this), need to have date nights (Ha haaa), need to keep up with baby-info, need to sell my book (I know, I just can't stop saying "My book" :-)...so many needs and one small brain (Ok fine! It has 100 billion neurons but ever tried to reach this limit?).

Uhh...wait, where was I? Oh yeah, the breast pump. Been thinking about this contraption ever since I read this cool article by Judith Warner. So now, we willingly subject ourselves to this nonsense and demand a pumping room in the workplace so we can save some magic-mommy-milk for baby. If you lived in the previous century and someone told you about breast pumps, you would have laughed and then raised your eyes incredulously when you realized it was not a joke. What have we landed ourselves into?

Why do we feel the urge to work when nature did not entrust us with that responsibility in the first place? Yeah, yeah, we have brains that function just as well as mens' brains etc. But maybe, the brain was meant to function best when the woman stayed home with the children. Then, the equations would have been clear-cut. And yes, I would probably be teary-eyed in my pretty apron (Yeah, chronologically and geographically incorrect but am sleep-deprived) if I had burnt the bajji that I fried lovingly for my husband when he came home after a day's work. But at least, I knew that was my responsibility and I knew I had to excel in that. Not in 200 other things that I impose on myself.

What can I blame for this urge to multi-task? To work and pump and nurture and be good at everything under the sun? (I know I hardly used the breast pump, so can't really rightfully complain but what the hell, just feel like complaining about...women and our decisions).

The vast majority of self help books say, "If you are unhappy, change it..." (Who moved my cheese, anyone?)...so why don't I just change it instead of typing furiously on my thinkpad? Sigh. Because all said and done (What now? I am using cliches? I really need to sleep!), I got it pretty good and I realize it in those rare moments of self-awareness that seem to come farther apart nowadays.

What's my point again? Dunno. What if I lived ages back...actually no thanks, I'd like to live now :) So, what if I just do one thing and be really good at that one thing? (Like google -- search and search real damn fast and well!) Let's see...in my imaginary, ideal world, I would probably be an SAHM, owning one of those mom-owned cool businesses or writing for a living (Woohoo! -- so, read my book already!), having the energy to take care of r~ all the time and ooh, wait, I want to look sexy too and not fight with k over night wakings...!

Hey....100 billion neurons, you got that all? Good, so work towards it!

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An ode to modern motherhood.

When I was pregnant, my friend a~ told me that the pregnancy/labor bit was easier compared to what follows. She said, at least I know that can't go on forever but lack of sleep really kills me or something to that effect. And I wondered how that could be true. Of course, since I was pregnant, I was only concerned about the pregnancy part of the whole experience and I thought once the baby is born, I can switch back to a worry-free existence -- you know the cutesy smiling mommy, gurgling toothless baby scenarios? Turns out, I was pretty off base. Pregnancy was really easy compared to sleepless nights and the newer worries that were born with the little package that I signed up for :)

Of course, I can never say my labor and birth of li'l r~ were easy. Nope, although I seem to have made a valiant effort to see the humor in the situation when I read my birth story (Radhu was 7 days old then) a few days back. k likes to call it "the much-glorified blood-loss story". Of course, I shot back with choice phrases that postpartum wives reserve for their helpful yet annoyingly hormone-balanced husbands. Suffice to say the story wasn't pretty.

Anyway, I digress. I was talking about how this whole motherhood thing is a pretty sneakily tricky business. At every stage, it gets you thinking, "Oh! If only I pass this stage, then all's going to be rosy and peaceful" and then you reach that stage and you are already peeking into the next stage and wondering when said stage will jump ahead. And like all mom stories you might have heard, I will add that each stage has a charm that you will miss when you near its end. See, that's why it's sneaky. You want your baby to be done having teeth and then you look at her full-teethed smile and wonder where the toothless grin of yesterday vanished to. You watch her bob her head to music and wonder why the little person who needed your smell every moment of her awake-time doesn't need you quite so much anymore. You are waiting for her to take those little baby steps but know already that you will miss the time when all she could do was roll from her tummy to her back. Sigh. You can't beat the system. You gotta ride the ups and downs and savor the experience. That's the tricky bit -- the knowledge that it's challenging and fun, tiresome and enriching. Can't have one without the other.

So, while you are dealing with all these inconsistencies, you realize you also have a work-life in the outside world that needs your attention. And, I don't know how the super moms do it but I find it really really hard to do justice to the outside world and the baby world. And this is when I haven't really cooked in almost 2 years, save the sudden urge to make a sweet or two on an auspicious day! But, I try anyway with the end result that I am tired and sometimes short fused ("Sometimes?!" -- that would be k screaming from down the hall :p) and yet not satisfied with what I have achieved at the end of the day. There is still a list of 12 tasks and personal goals (including sleep) yet to be achieved and it's already midnight.

Whenever I get into this mode of thinking, well-meaning folks have the tendency to get that faraway wise look as they say, "Think of the moms of yester years who did it all on their own", "Think of the moms who..." blah. blah. Yes, yes. Those moms rock. And I suppose I am selfish in assuming I have a tough life but hey, part of living a fulfilling life is to really live in the moment. So, I am doing that, aren't I? Really soaking up motherhood moments and still trying to have fun. Don't see the need to compare muhself with moms of yesteryears who did it all and still smiled at their husbands with bright-eyed devotion in the mornings as opposed to bleary-eyed, mumbling-to-self lady in pjs who snarls at dear husband in the morning (Uh. That would be me). So, what am I saying? Modern moms have the right to crib too. It's fun to crib (crib = complain as we Indians like to call it). I bet it's healthful (or some such fancy word) to the soul too. To modern motherhood!

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IT, mystique and relationships.

I took this really interesting class, Advanced Operating Systems under Dr.Griff @ UK and in one of the classes he talked about pervasive computing. Quite fascinating -- images of intelligent lighting systems, homes, even clothes that warm up or cool down according to a person's body temperature by using nanocomputers! What I want to write today is not exactly pervasive computing as the definition goes but in a way, this seems like pervasive computing to me. Think of the number of social networking technologies there are -- facebook, myspace, twitter, blogs and information engines -- google, yahoo search, wikis. It seems to me that people are finally finding outlets to express themselves; outlets they could not even have dreamed to adopt a decade back. That's great, mostly. From the disgruntled house wife (Home maker? -- Think "Mitr") to the adolescent gamer, everyone is online and "connected" all the time!

I wonder if this whole wave of constant-connectedness will change the dynamics of human relationships. Let's take blogs for instance. I hear SRK and Amir Khan blog too. It was big news when the big B started blogging. Now, my very first serious crush, SRK, blogs too. I assumed I would be thrilled but when I googled for his blog, I almost wished I wouldn't find it. Somehow the charm and mystique he (and bollywood) stands for would be lost if I read it and realized that he is just like you and me. But then, he is human too, just elevated to dizzying heights, I guess. So, why wouldn't he want to blog and express what goes through his head? Thoughts and observations too trivial or too complex to express face-to-face but perfectly safe as bits on a screen?

The same goes for facebook. Almost everyone at work is on facebook -- we know each other's trivial and not-so-trivial thoughts that we feel we need to type as status messages on facebook, we know our big days and celebrations, our not-so-great moments and setbacks. Everything bare for everyone (or perhaps a smaller network of people) to digest.

I sometimes think if I were a teenager in this current era, I would find it very hard to fall in love! The mystery or hidden faces of people no longer have a chance of existing in the shadows. So, I don't really get a chance to wonder if he is thinking of me, if he secretly reads classic romances or if he actually cries at sad movies, if his friends are wild and unpredictable or if he has a hidden talent. Thanks to social networking sites, they are all out there for me to see. I know most of what there is to know about him. Hmm...interesting. Wonder what li'l r~ would think of this comment when she becomes a teenager :)

On the other hand, I have reconnected with faces from my past. We are sort of in-touch. We thumbs-up each other when we see photos we like, we comment on random posts now and then. Not what you can call a heart-to-heart talk, laughing and giggling over college days, but still not strangers who need to be reintroduced after several decades either.

So, what does this all come down to? Absence no longer makes the heart grow fonder because there is no real absence in the real sense of the word, unless of course you are like my brother and are phone/internet-free because you are in some quaint little town somewhere in Kashmir hiking towards the Himalayas? But then you are back to being connected and the magic is there for everyone to see -- which sorts of disperses it and makes it not so magical...right?

I mean, my brother texts me, my gynecologist texts me about appointment details and my boss does when he is in meetings and cannot actually call. Seems like we are all there for each other. No mystery, no wonders.

"Hmm, the last I saw her was when I graduated...she always wanted to settle down in America...wonder if she is still with so-and-so..."

becomes

"Hmm, the last I saw her was when I graduated. She is now in Africa, a travel guide who has written several books on the topic. Nope, she is still single."

There is a difference...isn't there? It all seems fabulous if you think about it -- I can see my blog comments on my iphone when am waiting at the dentist's office. Don't have to worry about delayed gratification. It's all instant. But then, the kindle can never replace the authenticity of a worn-out novel in a library. I guess, that makes me old-fashioned. But, you already know that -- you saw my facebook update.

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*23*

Apparently, 25 is the indisputable king of lists. Facebook has a list of 25 random facts about you; you read about top 25 changes you can make to your wardrobe to not look like a maid everyday (Ok fine, that's just one of the lists I plan to make soon), 25 ways to become a new you...you get the point.

And so, I wish to nominate 23 as the new 25. Just for kicks. Also because my birthday falls on 23rd. And I hereby present 23 thoughts and all that that you were dying to read about all this time! Why here? Where else? Nobody asked me for my 25 thoughts on face-book or orkut or myspace...wait, I don't have an account on myspace. But, yeah. Nobody in any sort of online community went, "Gosh! RS, you have to tell me 25 trivial thoughts that ran in your head today! Can't wait to hear!" So anyway...

*drumroll*

1. I keep reading it's good to be grateful. I am grateful to Stephenie Meyers (Of the Twilight fame) for making the last few days' wait for little r~ more bearable -- almost a blur in my head.

2. I recently started sleeping on the other side of the bed. It was weird at first.

3. It's so weird when people say hi and smile but don't even carry the smile on their faces until you walk past them. Kind of like auto-pilot. So they looks really comical in that second when they suddenly switch from smiling to expression-less.

4. k says am in awe of someone or the other all the time. Is that a good thing or not?

5. I always thought I would fall for someone who didn't obey all the rules.

6. I typically try to follow all the rules.

7. Home birthing is a whole new story.

8. Stay at home moms are rock stars

9. Temporary obsessions are fun -- like Harry Potter, Twilight, Shopaholic series...

10. I don't think I am meant to have a best girl-friend. k has been with me to more girly events than I can recall.

11. Oh my God! I just realized I don't have a best boy-friend either.

12. Overall, you are not very different from how I am.

13. Is there such a thing as online-ADD? Pick the laptop to do something online; do something else; also do yet another thing online; become totally distracted.

14. How many useless memories can you recall now? I can think of one -- I remember this girl (my senior at UK) had her hands on the bottom of the steering wheel while driving. She had grey woolen gloves on. I remember being fascinated that 1) She could drive 2) She could drive with her hands resting like that on the steering wheel. I wondered when I would ever own a car and drive on my own. I always wanted to be her friend.

15. I don't do maps.

16. Dhanush was super funny in Padikaadhavan.

17. Twilight plays in my car too -- Bella's lullaby rocks.

19. I admire women who are always well-dressed -- to work, to drop their kids to school, to walk in the park; how do they do it?

20. Anyone else out there that watched DDLJ 7 times and cried the first 3 times?

21. Many times, I find I am unconsciously spelling words with my right hand index finger -- weird.

22. Wonder how things would have turned out if my parents had stuck with my original name, Narmada?

23. Be frank, ok? If I write a collection of short stories, will it sell?

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Being.

So, I thought the hardest thing was going through labor and having a baby. Am pretty sure I even read that labor is one of the most difficult of human pains to endure. Turns out that's true but it's just the beginning of the really unpredictable journey of motherhood.

I often tell k that when people tell me it's all in my head, it makes me mad because most times, I am not imagining things. What I am feeling is real. As my nurse practitioner put it, "Well honey, isn't everything in the head? Even pain is an emotion that is controlled by your head!" True. Lately, I have heard a bunch of truisms :p if I can call it that.

Like my yoga instructor, Toni, said, "Now take a moment...to enjoy the choice you have made." That struck a chord with me. The other thing she said was, "Ok so, what's the worst thing that can happen if I do this pose?" And then she goes on, "So, I end up looking like an idiot. Which is fine. It's ok to do that sometimes." Yup. It is ok. Life does not give you a chance to be perfect at all times. So, if I looked like an idiot now and then, why not go with the flow and enjoy the chance to don a different character on? Enjoy the ride...as they say.

When people tell me they finally managed to..."achieve this", "do that", "complete this" -- action verbs that hide a lot of sweat and effort behind them -- my question to them is, "So, how do you feel?", "You must be happy now!" and the reason I do that is also to remind myself that where I am in life -- my achievements, my experiences -- are a result of conscious choice and lot of hard work and I have earned the right to be happy when I can be instead of planning for the next milestone to overcome. I have a feeling I often miss the larger picture in life and then look back wistfully at a past experience while having missed the opportunity to enjoy it at its fullest when it actually transpired. I guess I inherited my dad's gene in this case -- to plan ahead. I remember all my childhood, my dad told me, "P l a n n i n g", "Pros and cons"...and the other day he tells me, "RS, I think you are just planning way too ahead of everything...just take it as it comes" -- this from the planner himself.

Sometimes Mostly, life is unpredictable and while some looking into the future is essential, I think just being and enjoying the experience is equally important. Maybe I should keep notes in my diary, "Wish I could...", "Waiting to..." and then look at it in the future and make a conscious effort to thrill in the small (and big) achievements of life. As Monica in friends would say, "Check!"

And...as Toni says, "Enjoy the choice you have made."

Like now. Not when r~ turns thirty! Oh! That reminds me. I was at b~ & p~'s place and we played with r~ and soon it was time to leave. p~ tells me we hardly got a chance to catch up, we can do that when they drop by our place. I tell her to drop by after 8 in the night so we stand a good chance that r~ is asleep so we can talk easily. p~ hesitates and tells me, "Umm...I want to play with r~, so I don't think I'll come after 8!"

I forget the main attraction nowadays is the little one. Duh.

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Nothing in particular

Love the curtain and the shadow dancing in the breeze today

Today has got to be the most amazing day since well, since the last amazing day there was. The weather is perfect. There is a nice breeze airing out the house. I am home. Lil' r~ is sleeping. k is working. Life is as it should be. Nice.

The day is nice enough to actually make my mind think thoughts in singles and they are gently floating instead of racing past as they usually do. I am reading this tome about the thyroid hormone and it suggests zen stuff like yoga, tai-chi, meditation and the like to calm the thyroid-stressed mind. Hmm...tai-chi -- now, there' s something I never thought I would be trying. Any of you know of good tai chi centers or have any preferences about these zen-style classes? Tell me, tell me. I am all ears and ready to de-stress. Apparently, stress is the cause of all diseases in this universe. Now they tell me, when I am thirty years old! So, I infer that some life-style changes are in order. Everything originates in this boggling, indecipherable, capricious mind of ours and so I believe I should give it a full spa-style treatment to see if I can get it to behave and hence all the aah-smell-the-flowers kind of talk.

By the way, are you many of you out there or just one that visits my blog but doesn't leave a comment? I am always thrilled by all(one?) of you. I think people are being nice to me most of the time. They say things like, "Oh! I read your blog all the time. I just haven't left a comment." I wonder why. I think it's because I write about nothing in particular most of the time. In any case, this little note is for all those people or you. Thanks for passing by and nodding a silent hi.

Coming back to my zen life, I can finally say I had this cool postnatal massage. It wasn't am-aaa-zing as some women would coo. It was good. My muscles got a work out and the delicate masseuse (who happens to be the same age as me) and I had a pretty interesting chat including all the hippie topics that am passionate about - vaccines, elimination communication, going back for good and related baby talk. k was like, "Jeez! I sent you there to relax, not chit chat some more!" Whatever. I would highly recommend the massage at baby moon, including the conversation!

Meanwhile, here is a silly ditty inspired by li'l r~

We rock, we walk, we talk
And yet you balk,
at the prospect of going to sleep;
For now, the secret to your sleep
is all yours to keep!

We try in vain,
for insights to gain
about babies and sleep;

Meanwhile,
you cry, you sigh,
you resist, you protest,
you play, but to sleep, you say, "Nay!";

And we rock, we walk, we talk...
Perhaps, one sweet day,
you will snore away
and dream sweet baby-dreams,
while maybe, just maybe,
mom sleeps like a baby!

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