Of Homemade Music Videos and Home-cooked Food

It's vacation time right now, and where I usually would be sitting at my computer, trying to get a view of the monitor through my daughter's flailing arms, and trying to coax my thoughts to surface above the din of Debbie's voice and her noisy toys, I sit here right now in utter peace and quiet, with no one switching off the computer mid-post, no buzzing voice in my ears, and no baby fingers trying to get at the keyboard... Just me, my thoughts, and you readers.... and I HATE IT! No. Sorry. I didn't mean you, my readers! I love you guys! I meant sitting at home alone, without Debbie, just me and this empty house...sigh...

Debbie's gone to her grandma's (my mom) for a week...wait, actually it is now been more than a week. She is having the time of my life (I mean Debbie, not my mom! God only knows how my mom is handling it there, because along with Debbie are 6 other boisterous cousins filling the house, and toppling down God knows how many flower pots! Enjoy mommy...hhehe!). So anyway, Debbie gets to play with all those kids ranging between the age of 6 to 16. And they are not even her cousins...their mine!! That's what happens when your grandmother is  your grandfather's second wife, and is just around 6 years older than your mother...and she (your grandmother) had 8 kids! I think they took the whole "the more the merrier" thing too seriously! Whew!

Anywho, Debbie is playing with kids ranging from 6 to 16 years old, who are all her aunts and uncles!! And she has not missed me yet... :( That doesn't mean I can't miss her... I do, I do... I miss her sooo much...

I miss this little girl...

and her lovely smile...

and her crazy-awesome singing...

Boohooo! I want my babyyyy!

*sniff* *wiping eyes, blowing nose*...

And in a funny tangent way, I want my mommy.... and her food...
Actually I've been feeling that for quite a while, so I wrote something for her...

Mom, this is for you... (pssst, can you please consider this as your advanced birthday present? Kidding. Totally getting you a real present on your birthday... :D)

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Street food...

"... Is unhygienic, uncovered, and unappetizing",
Said mother, piling a mountain of rice
Onto my plate already sagging
Under the weight of healthily boring home-cooked food.
Grumbling, sniffing, dipping fingers in gingerly
I question...
"Why can't I have a snack instead?"

Crisp samosas are the best.
Waiting near the familiar heat of food
Sizzling in hot oil,
Eying the one that you will choose
If you had a choice,
Peering into the cart
At sauces and spices,
I make a mental note -
'Remember to ask for
The sweet and sour sauce.'

Jaws clench at the tangy thought
Of salted gooseberries
That bring back memories of
Dead-broke college days,
When a rupee earned you a bag of those sour gems
That set the saliva flowing 10 years later!

Corn on the cob
Luscious, spicy and crunchy
Satisfy the sharp hunger that comes
From trudging up the lanes
Of little towns on hill stations
In search of the perfect bargain
On a thick woolen sweater.

Ice cream in a park -
Dripping water and icicles that take the place
Of real cream and flavor,
Cold chunks breaking off
Onto tongues,
Causing brain-freeze
And the rush of guilty pleasures
That mother would scorn at.

Vadais are good too.
Crisp exterior giving way
To warm dough and stray chilli bits,
The accompaniments as beckoning and cozy
As the kitchen at home...

The kitchen. Where mother
Would always have food on the table,
A soothing word
A listening ear
A tearing eye
A smiling face
For me, the wayward child,
Who ate too much street food...

Top 10 Things I'd Love to Do, but probably won't!

So, I came across this post by Shoni (entered in OhAmanda's Top10Tuesday linky party), which was inspired by this post by Stephanie....and I decided to tell you what is lurking in the darkest recesses of my mind! My dreams, desires that I will never quite be able to carry out... Top 10 Things that I so want to do, but somehow never did...sigh! This is maudlin...*sniff*

1. Cut my hair short - I've seen many people take the plunge and be happy about the results! Whenever I look at my straggly, split-ended hair that is so neanderthal, I just want to lop it all off. When summer comes, I just want to go bald, and sport a jug of ice cold water as a hat!! Don't laugh! You would too, if you have really experienced south Indian summers! So, I dream about the day I cut my hair, style it, and look uber cool...so not happening right now. :(

2. Write a Book - Am I totally out of my mind???!!! Who in the world has the time?? I have ideas, but no time. My sorry tale of entering the NANAWRIMO is testimony to this...

3. Traveling the World - Or at least, The Americas and Europe...Or France and USA? No? Okay, how about just USA? ... Okay, just India...you know? All India Tour! No? Okay, what about if we just visited Delhi, Mumbai, and Kolkata? They're interesting! No? Okay, can I just visit my friends in Chennai, please? No? Okay. Sorry, I forgot...I'm married to a very grounded and level-headed man with his "feet firmly planted on the ground". Had no idea that he meant he hated traveling!! And, anyway, who in the world's got the time?!?!?

4. Make Chocolate Ganache - It looks yummy, it looks easy, but I'm not getting it done in this century, because 1. I will never find the ingredients. 2. I don't think I will ever buy any more cooking equipment. Not after what happened yesterday (What? Oh, you didn't know? Yeah, I almost blew up the microwave, when I reheated bread pudding on a plate that had a little gold design on the sides!! Sparks flew...and I blew a fuse... Also, the electricity bill is the highest we have ever had. My baking is taking a year-long hiatus!!)

5. Make a Living as a Real Writer - you know, the sort that writes a best seller, and then makes book tours all year long, but somehow finds the time to write the next best seller, so that he or she can fill the next year with book tours! And autographed copies of the book sell for thousands of dollars...or rupees! Yeah, that dream...meh!

6. Live in France - WhyFrance? I don't know...maybe because I can eat macaroons and croissants all day long? Could it be that? Or is it because I just want to look at the Eiffel Tower at night, whenever I feel like it...I'm sure it's one of those reasons...Also, let's face it...We ALL, at some point, envy the French for their 'laid-back-ness'!

7. Sip a Cool Glass of Clear Water! - not happening. Bad teeth, one of them missing a nerve because...well... it just right out decayed! (Sorry, TMI, I know), and the others are all wailing at me every night to go make that damn dentist's appointment... So, No. No sipping ice cold water, ice tea, or iced anything for me...

8. Take Debbie to DisneyLand - She loves Mickey Mouse and Minnie Mouse, and is currraaaaizzzy about Donald Duck! Taking her to DisneyLand, and watching her squeal in delight is what my best dreams are made of...Anyone has extra tickets, you know where to send them...Plane tickets, I mean...

9. Master Indian Cooking - Sometime around last week I realized, to the chagrin and dismay and ____ (fill the most disappointing/negative words here!) of my husband, that I cannot CANNOT really cook Indian cuisine well. Nope. Sambar, rasam, and fish curry that is digestible is the best I can do... :( Whereas, give me a microwave and the right ingredients, and I can make a good plate of mac&cheese, or really delicious pasta, make a whopper hamburger with the yummiest ingredients, some good dessert etc. I wish I could cook good Indian food, I really do... My husband looked crestfallen when I announced my discovery...Yes, 'Crestfallen' is the word to describe the cheese-hater...Ho Hum...

10. Meet The Pioneer Woman - You know, I have never wanted to meet anyone as badly as I want to meet Ree Drummond!! No really, it's like an obsession!! I remember, when I was in 9th grade, I wanted to meet Tom Cruise this bad!! And then, well, he went whacko, and I kinda lost interest. Now I am a bit repulsed by him!! But, Ree? Well, I want, WANT, to meet her. I want to see her in person, and I want to shake her hand, and be at the receiving end of that smile, I want to take a tour of her kitchen where all the magic happens, and I want to take one bite of her famous Cinnamon rolls, and I want to die in peace....SIGH!!! Sorry, did not mean to sound like a psycho fan, but really, I adore her that much...If  you, by some sad twist of fate, do not know who Ree Drummond is, go and visit The Pioneer Woman! Your life will never be the same again!

"Tell me, who wouldn't want to be friends with her?! She is so sweet!"

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I know it's Thursday, but I am entering this post in OhAmanda's Top10Tuesday posts anyway!

Defeating the Purpose of the Teddy Bear!

Okay, this morning, when I read this article, I essentially felt a sense of hopelessness in this world, and all I can say right now is, "Heck, I've seen it all. I should just roll over and die now! It can't get worse than this!"

"Stop. What are you ranting about?" You ask.

Well, this...THIS!!! Go ahead and read the article if you have the morbid fascination and the stomach for this sort of thing....

If, for some reason, people take pride in this sort of thing, then this image is from Metro.co.uk.

For the love of all that is dear to mankind, where the heck is this coming from?!?!?!?!?!?!?

I thought cuddly toys are just for little kids to snuggle with! The teddy-bear-lover in me feels violated when soft toys are incorporated into horror movies. It's even worse when children become horror objects in these movies. That "Chucky's Back" crap was the worst...or so I foolishly thought! Now this!

Already, I feel nervous that Debbie is taking her teddy-bear too seriously - talking to him all the time about her school, reading him her books and singing him her rhymes, and the worst yet, crying to him when she gets told off by one of us!! I HATE that!

And, can I just say, that I HATE, DETEST, and am totally and irrevocably repelled by Mr. BEAN! I mean, what is the deal with that jerk? People, please, please, for the sake of the mental stability of your children when they reach their 40s, don't let them watch Mr.Bean...PLEASE!

That show is utter crap! All that nudity, innuendos, and the sheer stupidity and crassness of the man. And I am not even talking about the real show! I am talking about the animated series that is meant for little kids!!!And he has taught my daughter how to talk to her teddy bear.

If you see this man, you have my permission to shoot at sight! With a gun, and real bullets.

You are probably now asking me, "Woman, why don't you just turn off the television, and be done with it? Stop the whining already!" Well, I am working on it. I really am. I feel ashamed with myself for letting things get this far....You see, this show comes around Debbie's dinner time, and she will not let one morsel of food get past her lips if she is not watching this crappy show. And after I deal with 30 minutes of copious tears, the worst case of 3-yr-old tantrums, and the highest pitched screaming in the world, I usually cave in, because I just don't want my already skinny child to go to bed on an empty stomach....

Sigh....

So, this post, which started as a rant on cuddly toys with mental disorders has come down to a plea for help to all moms on the internet. Someone, please advice me on how I can wean my daughter off her soft toy (and her incessant thumb-sucking, while you're at it!), and this stupid Mr.Bean animated series.

I'm waiting for your advice in the comments section. HELP, someone!

Unresolved Hair Issues!

Remember the discussion on Debbie's hair we had the other day... well, apparently, there is a shift in perception of late...

Today morning, I looked at Debbie's hair, and patting the wild curls, I asked her, "What is this, baby?"

With a wide grin of amusement (perhaps she anticipated my reaction!), she uttered these words of wisdom, "Amma, this is noodles!"

Wide grin of amusement:



Go figure...

She Makes My World Go Round...

... (and my head spin...but, it's aaaaaalll in the game)!!

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Join the Wordless Wednesday linky party @ 5 Minutes for Mom!!

I Want Your Face!

So yesterday, Debbie is sitting on my lap, and sucking her thumb, cuddling her favorite teddy bear, and watching cartoons (yeah, she's a multi-tasker, that one!). And please ignore the part where she sucks her thumb... She WILL grow out of it soon, when she is 5 or 10...or whenever, I promise...

Anyway, there she was, and at any given time of day, my daughter's hair is all wild curls and sticking straight up or to a side...usually, I'm like, "Baby girl, what is the deal with your hair?!?!?!"

Her hair is actually quite tame in this one picture above! When things get out of hand, we just plop on a hat!

So, I just curl my fingers around some locks of hair, look at them wonderingly, and ask her, "Debbie, how come you got so much hair, babyyyyy....wow! you have nice haaaaiiiiiiirrrrr, baby".

She looks at me with a very somber expression, and then says, "Amma, I want to have your face and your hair..." I said, "No Baby, you have nice hair..."

And she said, "Don't you like my face and hair??" And I was thinking, "OHMYGODOHMYGOD.....Whoever gave her that idea?!??! WHOWHOWHO...? Wait...did I do that?

And then, I went, "baby, you have the prettiest hair and the prettiest face in the whole world, and you are really pretty, and you are the prettiest little girl I have ever seen...." and gave her a big kiss on each cheek.

She thought for a while, and my heart was pounding.

After a moment a slow shy smile spread across her face, she looked at me, and said a very nonchalant, "Seri" (Tamil for "Okay") I love you, Amma!, and walked off to play with her toys...

All I could think was, "What was THAT all about?" So, turns out, she wants long hair and a pretty face (like a typical 3 yr old girl!)...!!! That was the best thing that happened to me....all week! And that's why I am so happy today...my little girl wants to be like me...she adores me!!!!

My sister summed it all up wonderfully when she said, "Give her time, when she's 15 and comes to you for fashion advice, I'll believe that story!!"

Can't blame her.... (wait, maybe she gets unruly hair from me!)

.....eeeeehhhhh...I've seen better!

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Do you have something making your day today? A favorite moment, child (no, don't write on that!), food, favorite anything this Friday? Go on and join the Friday Favorite linky party over at The Other Mama. Have fun, and happy hair!

"Baby Einstein Made My Child Dumb"! Yeah, Right!

Learning begins at home. I am a staunch believer of that view point, and take my responsibility as my daughter's first teacher very seriously. My husband and I try to fill our house with fun-yet-educational toys, lot of colorful books, and educational DVDs. Debbie is perfectly happy looking at her books or playing with her toys. She also has loads of time to play outdoors, and loves running around the house hollering and chasing a ball as much as playing a tame game of 'cooking' indoors.

She is also a BIG FAN of children's videos on YouTube, and educational DVDs. She loves Baby Einstein videos, Sesame Street songs, Dora the Adventurer (her favorite!), and anything with lots of toys or animals, colors, and loud music! I admit that I have a very selfish reason for letting her watch them... that's the only time I can get her to stop hating food long enough to eat it!! Don't get me wrong, we do have really fun eating time, when we don't watch TV and concentrate on finishing what's on the plate. Debbie can feed herself, and she does enjoy doing it. But sometimes, she gets it into her head that she can live on love and fresh air! and there is nothing a mother can do to change her mind... other than switching on the computer or the television...

Apart from the obvious value of these videos and DVDs (!), I really believe they are useful to a child's learning process. Which is why I was shocked at the study published by the University of Washington, that the Baby Einstein DVDs make children... dumb... (to be very blunt)! The study says:

The scientists found that for every hour per day spent watching baby DVDs and videos, infants understood an average of six to eight fewer words than infants who did not watch them. Baby DVDs and videos had no positive or negative effect on the vocabularies on toddlers 17 to 24 months of age.

Well, I don't know about that. Baby Einstein videos have pictures of these large and colorful toys in the shape of animals and other shapes that a child needs to learn about. I think it is much better to let a child learn the names of shapes, animals, fruits, vegetables etc. through song, music and fun than through getting a book out, pointing at objects and loudly repeating the names!

And anyway, unless parents simply dump their children in front of a TV or computer for hours together, I don't think these DVDs are going to do any major damage. If parents want to take the easy way out and let their children watch TV all day, I think the children were destined for limited intelligence, DVDs on not! As a parent, it is my responsibility to decide how much time my child watches videos, how much reading time she gets, and how she learns about the world. If I go wrong with my planning, I don't think I have the right to blame any one else for my bad judgment.

The Baby Einstein Company seems to be doing something good for children across the world. They are parents too, so I am guessing they must possess some parenting experience! Give them a break! Come on!! They are normal parents who decided to make a fun video for their kids... we're blaming them that they did not do their research?!!? Ok, so the scientists who made nuclear bombs do a lot of research, so I guess wiping away an entire country is acceptable... I mean, criticising their work is one thing, but thinking people deserve a refund!?!?! Really now!

Too many people now are looking to shift the blame on some one else for just about anything. If your baby is not an Einsten before he is 2, maybe that DVD is to blame; if your boy is roughing up classmates in school, maybe the teachers are to blame; if your child broke the law, maybe the society is to blame... when a person commits murder, maybe the people who ignored him at work are to blame...

When did mistakes stop depending on the wrong choices a person made, and start depending on everybody else's behavior? When do WE take responsibility for our mistakes? And when will we teach our children that when they become adults, THEY are answerable for their mistakes, and that they cannot shift the blame?

I for one cannot believe that some DVD is being blamed for children's lack of learning. What do you think?

False Evidence Appearing Real!

I read somewhere once that FEAR stands for "False Evidence Appearing Real". I have to agree with that, in retrospect, that is. But when you are lying on your bed, staring at the ceiling, heart pounding at the very thought of that awful thing you fear so much, the evidence you dig up from the recesses of your mind seem anything but false…. You know what I mean, right?

I have a 2 year old daughter. I should stop right here, and let you make the obvious connections with FEAR, and fear in general. But, I love to talk about my fears, and so I will.

When Debbie was born, she was barely 5.5lb, tiny and fragile, her wail almost a squeak. Now, although she is still tiny for her age (only 22lb when she should be 27lb, and I get my share of flack about it from busybodies of all descriptions. In my defense I would like to state, both my doctor and this website claim this is quite normal.), she is growing up to be a source of admiration, jaw-dropping disbelief, and pure joy for my husband and me, every moment!

She is a lovely, delightful little girl! She runs around making shrieking noises when I try to make her eat food. She throws a healthy tantrum (the habit isn’t, but the gusto of the display certainly is!) when she is refused ANYTHING, yes, even the flames on the stove burner (?!?!?!) She sings non-stop (ie. When she is not shrieking or throwing a tantrum). In fact she can sing the entire alphabet song, even the last bit (“Now I know my ABCs…etc.), a couple of rhymes, can count till 10 in a random order (!), and recite a couple of Bible verses… *I’m on a roll here, aren’t I… ;-]… and you say “Mmhmm…keep going…”* She cries VERY LOUDLY (seriously, that is how it sounds, my eardrums are not what they used to be…) Sigh…, loves books, and dotes on her big brown teddy bear. She is healthy and happy. She is surprisingly intelligent and insightful for a 2-year-old, and did I say she loves books…oh yeah, if she is very quiet and you don’t hear shattering glass, she is definitely poring over a book. There is no need to worry, no need to lie awake at night wondering about the future. If we do our best, everything will turn out just fine.

However, and you mommies will surely understand, I sometimes have these fears… Will she grow up into a healthy adult, or will she inherit any of my health conditions problems? How will she stand up to a bully in school? Will she be able to cope with the harder lessons in school? Will she maintain good (if not excellent) scores throughout her student career? Will I be able to guide her well through her adolescent years? Heck, will she let me?? Will she meet the right guy? Will she love him? Will he love her long enough (‘long enough’ read ‘forever’…) Will she achieve all her dreams? Will she love me when she grows up? *Aside: Will she love me more than her Dad…* Aaaarrrrgghhh! Come to think about it, these are all Worries. I worry about her a lot, and which mother doesn’t.

And these worries turn into fears, slowly but surely. Looking around at the world, I do not receive much consolation either. Relationships of any kind are not what they used to be. Even in a relatively conservative country like India, divorce rates are creeping up the ladder, families are becoming more dysfunctional everywhere, psychos are created at every street corner (False Evidence or not, it is creepy!), educational systems losing quality, and the list is endless. Of course, there is any number of good things in a society that can influence a child: a good family, good friends, the church (or any religious institution), good teachers, true ‘soul-mate’ kind of love, and lots more.

But it all depends on the choices that my child makes. Will she let the bad influence her, or will she take in only good influences. As parents, we can guide her, but (I hate this part) we can’t make the choices for her. Sometimes, these fears make us let go of the Trust Factor and lay down absurd rules that curb the normal growth of a child. There really is a thin line between caring and controlling. So, you lay down the ground rules, teach your child everything they need to know, set a good example, and expose them to a loving and caring environment…. And wait. You Wait… to see how your child turns out…How do we do that? How did our parents do it? And what will my little girl be like when she is an adult? What kind of a woman, wife, mother, and human being will she be?

Now, tell me, how can I not let False Evidence Appearing Real creep up on me every night?

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This is my entry for the Write-Away Contest for the month of October, over at Scribbit - A Blog About Motherhood in Alaska.

Growing Pains on Mother’s Day

"The moment a child is born, the mother is also born.  She never existed before.  The woman existed, but the mother, never.  A mother is something absolutely new". ~ Rajneesh


I doubt my mother would agree with that. Let alone my grandmother. You see, I grew up in a society where every woman is expected to have motherhood, wifeliness (is that a word?), docility, and kitchen and household skills the day she is born. All other skills were taught. Motherhood was always left to good woman sense. My mother showed me how to do the dishes, wash clothes, clean floors, boil rice, do the laundry, make the bed, and vacuum under the sofa. She never once talked about how to bring up a child. She probably thought I should learn that through observation, or that it should come by instinct. Now, my sister and I were brought up just like my brother was – equal opportunities, equal freedom, and equal couch space in front of the TV. All of us were expected to put our own dirty plates into the wash basin; none of us were expected to clean them. Basically, I didn't know motherhood from Adam (or is that Eve?).


Suddenly I was 24, I got married. Within 7 months I had a baby! Mothers often make the joke, "My daughter is herself a baby, and she has another baby now!" That is not funny, and I kid you Not. Motherhood was not born with me, I swear. It was born with my daughter. My motherhood is not yet 2 years old. I have motherhood tantrums that equal my daughter's child hood tantrums. I am still learning the ropes. I die a little when women gasp that I forgot to wipe the chocolate off my 2-year-old's dirty shirt. This is all coming over in a very bad way, but I hope mothers out there understand what I mean – Motherhood is difficult.


The only thing that came long before the motherhood is the love for my child. That love was born when we first found out I was pregnant. That love grew with every new cell added to my daughter's being. That love will continue to grow forever. Everything I do for her, I do out of that love. I cannot be the best mother in the world. I may not turn out the plumpest, cutest, most intelligent, ultra-achieving child in the universe, but I can nurture a friendly, humane, intelligent, hard-working, empowered spirit in my little girl. I can introduce her to the best in the world and in herself. I can grow along with my daughter to be the best mother I can be.


With every growth spurt of my motherhood, I realize that my mother is still growing. I also realize how much my mother has must have grown, and how fast, with the least amount of help, bringing up three little children, in a foreign land. Every growing pains I have makes me grateful to my mother, who had the same pains but never let them show. Mom, I love you. I hope 25 years hence, Debbie feels I am half as good as you. That will be my true reward.


Happy Mother's Day Mom, and all growing Mothers of the world.

The Finish Line

I have never run many races in my life so far, whether rat or otherwise. So I do not have any 'record-breaking' memories to choose from when I think of a finish line. What comes to mind, though, is a 'Rabbit Race' we kids ran, back when we were in grade three, and the world was a rainbow. Apparently, I was on the other (more rainy) side of the mountain...whatever.

Anyway, our teacher, a wonderfully sweet lady with a beautiful singing voice gave us our instructions to run the race (but not in the form of a song). She should have sung it, maybe then everyone would have listened....I digress.

Anyway, during rehearsals (yeah, we used to have dry runs, many, in fact), the teacher said that little containers of mango juice (my favorite kind) would be placed on chairs at the start line and each one of us (dressed as rabbits - rabbit ears made from pink chart paper, socks on our palms for paws, and socks on our feet for, well, rabbit feet..duh), had to drink up all, she said All... the juice as fast as we can, and run (no, hop) to the finish line. Sure, that's easy, right?

Anyway, (Gosh, I sound like Ellen Degeneres), the big day arrived, and we lined up for the race, every little girl with paper ears, sock paws and hopping rabbit feet. Our teacher blew the whistle and everyone hopped to the juice containers, picked them up, started sipping (so far so good), and...dropped the containers and ran....Hey wait! You guys are supposed to Finish the drink, and then run. I was following instructions and the others were finishing the race... where do I come from, anyway, gaaawd! No prizes for guessing what position I finished in at that race. My mom still has a picture of me at that race - lopsided rabbit rabbit ears covering half an eye, drink in hand, and a "What The..." expression on my face!

I look at the winners of that race now, and I wonder if they still have the head start - cool jobs, cooler hairdos, parties, pets, apartments and travel photos - while I try to not to burn breakfast, then force-feed it to my daughter Debbie, and get to work on time.

And then I turn around and look at her toothy grin and the love in her eyes, and I think, well, Mama Rabbit's going to sip this one in, moment by moment, before the next race catches up... We got time to sip the juices, smell the roses .... The finish line can wait.

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This is my entry to the "WriteAway" contest over at Scribbit for the month of January, 2009. Check out the contest and give it a go. She has great prizes every time around!

Pride and Prejudice!

My computer crashed! How timely is that?! I mean, I have to submit my MPhil. thesis at the end of June, and here's my computer showing attitude! AAaaarrrgh! I took four days off, and got my husband to help out with Debbie and the chores while I worked on my thesis. He even did some of the typing work for me. And then, Sunday morning I open a blank file where Chapter 3 used to be.....!

I mean, I saved the file and everything. I think it's about time we got rid of that computer (It's as old as the hills!) My husband just won't do it...I don't know if it has emotional value for him (he just tried to throw out Debbie's favourite book last weekend because it was dogeared! I just don't know what makes these men tick...). Maybe, he has some distant hope in the computer's human-like will power to make one last Herculean effort. I tell you, the whole deal is as nonsensical as that last sentence. Anyway, that's my husband and his computer!

So yesterday we just gave the entire chapter to be typed at a DTP centre, where they will type your stuff out and save it for a minimal amount of money. That works for me, I tell you.

I don't have to deal with the typing work along with all the other stuff that's driving me crazy around here.

Debbie is beginning to stand without support for a few seconds nowadays. Her best yet is 10 seconds! She is really excited about it...but unfortunately has inherited the family trait of letting the excitement get out of control!

She now walks around the entire house (with support) and pulls down anything, and I mean anything she can reach. She pulled down on herself the entire pile of xeroxed secondary source material I had collected for my thesis! She managed to eat a few words too!

One day, I found her dutifully chewing her way through the headphones! That cost a lot of money and she was brunching on it!

Then there's the books, face cream tubes, underwear (my husband left the drawers open again!), stationary, TV remote, clothes (right off the hangers) etc., etc...

She is getting her fourth teeth and it's driving her crazy..She has recently developed a craving for my fingers. I would be sitting there, absorbed in my work, and she would sneak up to me, grab one of my fingers and dig her teeth right in! Gosh, I should probably introduce her to hotdogs, or maybe they have already been introduced and she just misses them!

When she cannot get at my fingers, she goes for my hair! Yep! That's what I said, my hair! She likes to pull really hard at one strand at a time and put me through excruciating pain while she claps her hands in absolute delight! Oh yeah, just for the record, she has learnt to clap her hands to music or when she is happy!

See what I mean? Here I was, narrating my unfortunate accidents and the torture I suffer at the hands of my 10 month old daughter. Yet, I can't resist bragging about her achievements. I guess that's what parents are like. So proud of their children. Makes me think of my own parents and the sacrifices they made for me. Every time I excelled in school or at art or music, they would be so full of pride and would talk about it to relatives and neighbours for so many days! Failure on my part, at the same time, would send them to the depths of disappointment that was worse than the sadness I felt at my failure. Parents practically live for us, and love us with a love so pure that it is only lesser than God's love for us.

I have wonderful parents, let me tell you. At the most unexpected of moments this fact hits me and I feel a rush of gratitude and my eyes fill up with tears. I regret to say that I rarely express this gratitude properly to my parents.

I guess that's why we have Father's Day and Mother's Day, a day on the calendar when the whole world is telling you "this is your day to go and tell you mom or dad that you love them, that they are special and that you are happy and successful and they had a large part to play in forming this success and happiness". Just tell them that you love them.

Happy Father's Day in Advance to all the fathers in the world!

The Driver by Any Other Name….!

I commute to work by auto – that three-wheeled, middle-class individual’s hot wheels for rent. Driver et al! My ‘driver’ arrives at my place at 8:30 sharp, come rain or sunshine. He drives us (that’s me and my daughter, 7 month old Debbie) to the day-care centre, where I leave Debbie. Then he dutifully drops me off at my work place, and leaves after I have instructed him to come back at 1 pm…or 1:30 or 2:00, or whenever. He is quite flexible in such things, you see.

The driver (whose name, by the way, is Subhash, read the ‘u’ as in ‘look’ and ‘a’ as in ‘far’ ) is back at 1pm as promised and he waits patiently at the gates of the big building where I work until I decide it’s time to leave. Then the usual routine of picking Debbie up at the day-care centre and back home by 2:30, give or take a few.

Each day the trip is made in absolute silence, except for the sirens of cars whizzing by and the wheeze of the giant government bus, huffing along with its cross(es)! We easily overtake the bus, but little else! Subhash is a careful driver, barely raising the accelerator beyond 30 km per hour, (quite frustrating if you’re late for work, but reassuring if you think of your child’s safety) and so we practically see the entire working community fly by before we get where we’re going. Hence, the half hour head start! Slow and steady may not win the race but at least we get there!

Subhash, bless his heart, follows orders to the tee. He never asks questions and never expects explanations. He never offers advice, his greatest redeeming feature, considering the favorite pastime of the majority of the populace of Nagercoil (look for us on the map of Tamil Nadu, please…better still, look up ‘tsunami’ on the Net, we’re there, on the map. http://www.mapsofindia.com/maps/tsunami-in-india/earthquake/kanniyakumari.html....! See, I told you! Pretty famous, huh!).

Well, anyway, I sorely digress. The point is, not that we got hit by tsunami, which historical event I missed, but that people of Nagercoil like to give advice (and ask personal questions!), free of cost, whether you want it or not. Everyone from the lady selling fish on your street to your ‘mother of two children-holding a plump government job-free most of the time-so-nosy as hell’ neighbor gives you advice. No points for telling me how that feels!

However, (the “Hallelujah” chorus rings in the background!) Subhash holds back the advice, questions and any other uncalled-for chatter that drives me mad with rage. He only speaks when spoken to, and that too sparingly. Lately, I have started to feel that ‘Subhash’ is synonymous with ‘auto’. I have even saved him as “Subhash Auto’ on my cell phone!

Now, before you fling a shoe at me, there’s a point here, in all this. The other day, Subhash almost banged his auto into an old lady (the lady’s fault entirely), missed her by an inch and applied a sudden break. The old lady slowly turned around, and I thought, ‘ok here comes the Great Fight’ and…the widest smile spread itself slowly and brightly across her lips. She called out animatedly in Tamil, Thambi, nalla irrukiyapaa? Amme epdi irukkue?Naalla veettuku vaaren, enna? Which translates, “Little brother (word commonly used to address any male younger than oneself), are you well? How is your mother? I will come home tomorrow, ok?” In response, my hitherto unanimated and waiting-to-disappear-into-the-woodwork driver smiled as broadly, said ‘hello’ and ‘ok’ to all her questions and kept driving. The smile, meant only for the old lady, disappeared seconds later.

It made me think all the way home. Here was a person with a family, friends, and a happy, or perhaps difficult, life. He, just like me, woke up to the rising sun every morning. He, just like me, had a hurried breakfast and rushed out to his business. He, just like me, had aches and pains of the heart and the body. He was a live human being, with feelings and thoughts……., just like me. And yet, I thought of him only as my driver. “Subhash Auto”, at the most.

I felt ashamed at never having realized that. I suddenly felt ashamed at having made him wait for more than 5 minutes on the odd Monday morning, when he had to go on other morning trips after dropping me. I felt guilty for all those times when I felt righteous anger at him when he was a few minutes late, at all those times when I generally forgot he existed.

And then I thought of how we often forget that the shop attendant, whom we were impatient with, is actually someone’s son or daughter; that the slow cyclist ahead of us in traffic, whom we yelled at this morning, is someone’s father; that the janitor, for whom we left some candy wrap on the office floor, is someone’s beloved friend.

We simply label them with the jobs they hold. This insensitivity is glaring in the Indian habit of hailing someone by the wares they sell. For instance, the spinach seller is hailed as “keera” (Tamil for spinach)! The auto driver is referred to as ‘auto’. The sweet seller’s name is whatever he is selling at the moment. The neighbor who teaches at a local school becomes ‘teacher’ to everyone, whether it is the 10 year old colony-brat or the 50-year old grandpa down the road! See, I am no exception to the condition! We also have this queer habit of addressing someone by their relationship with their children (I know!). So, in effect, I would be called ‘Debbie Amma’ translated as ‘Debbie’s mother’, as if I have no identity of my own, save for what I am to my child! I do have a name, you know.

That’s how we lose sight of the ‘person’ in people, how we put them into slots and compartments and label them as something or the other. Usually, they are more than, or nothing like, what we make them out to be. How easily we hold prejudices based on ill advised, preconceived notions that have been passed on to us down through the history of society! How we see the world with foggy glasses that never clear up, ever! Oh, how we act based on these prejudices and kill and plunder and destroy lives, reputation and nations based on what we ‘think’ someone is!

We will never stop being inconsiderate, prejudiced, all-knowing oafs if we do not open the shutters of our minds to let the objective breeze of tolerance and understanding enter in, fill every cobwebbed corner and clear away the musty, dinghy stench of narrow-minded doctrines and superstitions that have been festering there from time immemorial. When we cannot allow the winds of free thought and universal tolerance to ventilate our minds, we can never open our doors to true Progress and Growth that stand knocking, waiting to come in and make our minds home to Higher Thoughts and Successful Lives.

Tomorrow, maybe I will greet Mr. Subhash with a “hello, how do you do?”, and mean it. Yes, that’s what I’ll do.