The linearity of thought

My nanny (R's maid) thinks only about her boyfriend and Bollywood. At any given time, she can sing most of the film songs- word for word and recite the actors' filmography - down to the last ten years. When baby isn't sleeping- the maid is on the phone- often for spells as long as two and half hours- whispering nothings and everythings into her phone.

Ask her about general stuff and she'll draw a blank. Anything related to politics, weather or common sense is met with a question mark. Sometimes I avoid giving her any work, fearing that she'll mess it up and I'll have to do it all over again myself. 

Her world is tiny- just films and her boyfriend. On the other hand, I have a host of things occupying me. Sometimes I feel my head will just burst with the amount of thinking that clicks on...like cogs turning and re-turning.. Fitting here, there... So I often forget what I was thinking and drafts of great stories are killed before they can erupt.

Such humdrum life.

Working class heroes

I refer to the domestic helps here- the cooks, bais, cleaners & drivers here. Over chopping vegetables for salad my cook (who also doubles up as a handyman for LoML's various tasks like dry cleaning etc) narrated the sad story of his Mama running from pillar to foundation to get his flat- part of the slum rehabilitation scheme- and that he's completely unsuccessful. Said the poor have nowhere to go. Their slums are being taken over and no accommodation being given in it's stead. How so many of his own ilk are forced to sleep on the road/ platforms etc. Even though I wanted to help- he was talking about a few lakhs here- I couldn't. Instead I silently prayed to God and thanked Him that my everyday battles were at least, not about a roof over one's head and then I wondered- was I really lucky?

Flight

A golden particle

Fell down to earth

Enveloped in freshness

Surrounded by sounds of

A schoolbus honking

Crows in midflight

Brooms sweeping yesterday's pieces

Men reading fresh newspapers

It continued to fall

Below and away it went

Unmindful of it's path

Making it's own road

Deciding it's own destiny

A golden particle fell from the sky

And bathed itself in the warm rays of the sun.

The humble mobile phone!

The other day the LoML's mobile phone rang while he was in the shower. My dad, who was visiting us, said maybe I should pick up and tell the other person that he would call back and take his message. I was horrified to say the least. Then I gently told him that this wasn't a landline where you were bound to answer and not only that, LoML would call back at his own convenience. I realised then that the mobile phone is not just a phone anymore. And we've become quite arrogant about who we want to talk to.  Take the instance, of the time when I wanted to check the status of sales targets in the North region. After repeated attempts, a small voice answered that the Manager had left his phone at home, could I please call one of the ten shops to see which one he was in? Or the instance when after listening to 'tum to thehre pardesi' some fifty times on my cook's phone, I was told in a stern voice that the phone was in the Police Station as was the cook- he was fined for crossing the railway track and was without a ticket. 

The phone has become a tracking device- well, it is, if you consider how cleanly LoML sometimes lies- saying he's in Andheri when he's actually in Bandra- saying he'll reach there in just ten minutes (when even a chopper would take more than twenty to reach).  It even becomes a playful companion to the longest of drives.  It's also fills in for a computer- surfing the net, writing journals, creating and editing presentations can all be done on the phone.  I'm a staunch iPhone loyalist and I wouldn't dream of using any other phone. 

It's my best friend apart from my 1 year old daughter! 

I can't breathe!

These three words, spat out breathlessly by Donkey at the end of Shrek 1- actually hold true for me not just sometimes but often.

For I can't breathe in a room with closed windows.

Let me explain- I need to have some fresh air in the room. If not, then well.. let's just say I can't breathe.

Now imagine my plight when I spent close to 3 years in a glass boxed cabin with a lone artificial tree for company. You can be sure I pulled my window blinds way, way up so could see the wind/ breeze, if not feel it and kept my room AC on high all times. I also sat glued to my laptop so that I wouldn't notice the walls starting to close in and kept my eyes firmly on the glass door and waved a cheery hi to anyone passing by (it really did help that my cabin was right in the centre, flanked by the IT head and the MD's cabin)

But we recently took Raania on her first holiday and though the suite/ villa was very luxurious with it's own swimming pool to boot, at night we had to sleep with the windows shut, blinds drawn because of the heat- and I tricked myself into believing I was asleep in my own bed with a sliver of fresh air brushing against my face.  However, with Raania one can't sleep uninterrupted and as soon as I got up in the middle of the night - I felt that familiar 'can't breathe' feeling. I realised that hubby dear had switched off the AC, thinking it was too cold for the baby. With floods of relief washing over me I notched up the dial to the highest permissible temperature and once I felt the cool blast on myself, drifted off to sleep.

Was I glad when we returned home to my own room with the French windows and basic curtains instead of blinds where I could leave a slight bit open for some raindrops and cool breeze to populate my room and my soul!

Responsible parenting

It took me quite a while to realise that motherhood is not a full time job. It's not a job. It's a state of mind. In a job, you can take off and leave when you want to. When you are a parent, you can't not decide one day that you've had enough and call it quits. It's like saying you're bored of your husband and want another. True, there are times when a) you long for your pre-mommy days, for some precious 'me-time' but if you're smart enough you can build your me-myself-I time into your baby's schedule- i.e. when baby sleeps. True, it may mean sacrificing a bit of your own sleep but hey! everything in the world has it's price! and b) you pull your hair out in frustration if baby refuses to eat- making you wonder if it's all that difficult to be a mom?  It's really not- and the best judge of what and how your baby feels is your experience.  I keep wondering if I'm teaching my 1year old the correct things. Is it too soon to teach her good values, to respect Gods and elders?  And then a small voice pipes up inside me and tells me - yes, I should. I should bring her up the way my sister and I were.  With love, laughter and respect.