Thoughts Unlimited...

I miss being in India

2008-08-17T19:07:16Z

A few months back in Atul's school, the theme for the week was countries around the world. I don't recall the specifics of what was being discussed, but it had something to do with flags. During our routine library visit that week, as I was browsing through the books searching for Atul's favorites, I heard the kiddo shout excitedly , “amma, look I see our flag in the library”. Wanting to acknowledge his discovery, my eyes were scanning the room for the Tricolor and Chakra. It took a couple of seconds to look in the direction his finger was pointing, which was towards the Stars and Stripes. My reflexes urged me to correct him. This is U.S. flag kanna, our flag is Indian flag. But I ended up correcting my thinking instead, and told him, “That's awesome Atul”, and made a mental note to familiarize him with the Tricolor and Chakra as well. That day I couldn't help realizing how growing up his loyalties will be different from ours. That like how we infuse a bit of Indianism in all that we do, in return we owe it to him to inculcate some of the American culture into our lives as well.

As I saw a number of posts related to Indian Independence, I thought how a lot of us bear semblance to the characters in Jhumpa Lahiri's stories. Of wanting to recreate bits and pieces of India wherever we dwell. How proud we are and how eager we become to show off our Motherland. I know when India won its individual gold medal, I couldn't help making a big deal out of it at work.

I miss being physically present in India. Of seeing Ganesha idols in every nook and corner. Of indulging in idle banter with the autokara anna. Of relying on a passerby for directions than having to memorize it from google maps. I know, I know. I am beginning to sound like Ramarajan and Gouthami in this song. :-)

That being said, at the end of the day these are choices we make, and as they say sometimes in life to gain something you have to lose something.

Thinking of someone special

2008-08-10T20:34:29Z

As I took a trip down the memory lane for the Earliest Memory tag, I couldn't help taking detours to the streets that lead to memories revolving my mom. You see last week was her b'day, a special one too. I fondly thought of the times that she would come to pick us up from Chinmaya Vidyalaya, which is where we did our elementary schooling. If we missed our regular bus, she would treat us with bread, butter, and jam at the local Abilasha bakery. I remember the evenings that she slogged with us to get homeworks done, and to get us prepared for the exams. She was the one that taught us how to play shuttle, and carom. Narrated us short and inspiring stories from the Tamizh weekly magazines. Her vengaya vatha khozhambu, and mysore sathumamudu are worth dyeing for. I remember as a child how my chest puffed with pride when I saw her buzzing around, making her presence felt, making herself useful during weddings and family reunions, and wondering if I will ever make such an impact when I grow up.

Today as a grown up, we have had our share of role reversals. We talk to each other like two mature adults rather than as a mom and daughter. I have learnt some of life's important lessons, that of confidence and optimism from her. Now that I am a mom myself, I have a greater appreciation for all the things she has done and continues to do for us. Here's wishing heartful of happiness, pinkest of health, peace of mind, and bestest of best to amma dear. You are the best!

Normally, I am wary of posting family pictures on the web. But this time, I do feel like showing her off. A picture of my mom taken three years back under the cut.

Yes, it's hard to say that this lady has a grandson to pamper!

First success and fascination

2008-08-09T11:22:31Z

Standing next to Arun, draped in amma's white and green saree, and patti's green blouse, a mike in front of us, grocery list in hand , and a sea of eager looking faces, Arun and I were faking to be the next door mama and mammi in our first fancy dress competition, our very first public performance. A few kids performed before us, some dressed impressively, and others reciting fluently. When it was our turn, it felt special, as Arun and I were the only ones that performed as a duo. I remember feeling like a grown up wearing amma's saree. I remember relishing the role of a responsible adult for that brief couple of minutes. I remember being a tad nervous facing the crowd. It was a big hall packed to capacity, that's how I recall it now. I remember eagerly waiting for the results. Our names were called out, and if my memory serves me right, it was the second prize. Arun got a dark pink dabba, and I got an orange one. One of our cherished possession for years to come. Our first taste of success and sense of accomplishment. We must have been 6 or 7 years old. This is as far as I can go down my memory lane for the Earliest Memory tag by Laksh. Thanks Laksh for the opportunity. It was a fun ride.

The other bloggers that were tagged recalled incidents that happened when they were as little as 3 years. So I too thought and thought, and wanted to recall something from when I was as little as that, but somehow my memory was behaving like a worn out cassette that blanks out every now and then when you press the rewind button. A lot of scenes from that time flashed in and out, but none of which I could portray in detail. But there was one itsy bitsy incident I did recall, of going to next door Krupa akka's house all by myself (was Arun with me?), eating idli and milaga podi with sugar in a plastic plate sitting on their kitchen floor. Yes, I recall how fascinated I was with that plastic plate. The kind of fascination I have every time I pass the crockery/dinnerware section of a departmental store today!

Breaking News...

2008-08-03T13:15:41Z

... in our household – Atul has been sleeping by himself on his bed in his room for the past 9 nights. Until last Friday the joke was, it would be easier to renovate our bedroom to fit a king size bed than to transition him to a bed of his own. But a small window of opportunity opened up last Friday evening when I popped my routine question to him, “Tuls do you want to sleep by yourself tonight”, to which he wavered for a second, and with great reluctance replied, “Can I keep the car lights on?”. Astonished at the change of mind, Arvind and I exchanged quick glances and came up with our responses, “sure kannama”, “if you want you can take as many toys as you want”. So armed with a bucket full toys, we marched to his room knowing that this could very well turn out to be a flop show, nevertheless a baby step towards the goal. We tucked him, and let him know that we are proud of him. Then the reality of the situation sunk in, and he said, “I am scared that the carnivores will come and eat me. Will you please sleep here with me”. To which we responded with one of our slogans, “Have no fear, appa and amma are here”. We assured him that appa will be guarding the downstairs to make sure no carnivores enter the house, and amma will be in appa-amma room to guard the upstairs. We also gently reminded him of the Arthur and DW story in which DW was initially scared to sleep on her own bed, but found it fun after the first few days. With this Arvind and I dispersed to our turfs to guard our little prince from the carnivores. Atul and I continued to talk, as we always did when we slept together, except that now I was not next to him with a small corridor in between us. He told me he liked me, and I told him we loved him. He told me he missed me and wanted to give a quick hug, I told him, yes he could, but after that he has to go back to his room and try to get some sleep. So this back and forth dialog continued for the next half hour may be, and eventually he dosed off. And then I rushed downstairs to jubilantly report to Arvind that, “He did it. We did it”.

The transition is a big change not only for Atul but also for us. Co-sleeping is such fun. To be physically close to Atul, exchanging stories, having our zen moments after a stressful day was something that we have so cherished in spite of all the kicks and body aches that are the side effects when two adults and a pre-schooler sleep on a queen size bed. Yet, deep down I nursed a twinge of guilt that perhaps we were not inculcating good sleeping habits, as it was evident that he woke up the second he was left alone. So all along we took turns to make sure that one of us was by his side. Advocates of co-sleeping would say that he would eventually outgrow that need with time. I know he would, I did when I was a kid and I know a thousand others that did. But still I had to try it out to assuage my guilty consciousness. So when Atul comes back at 2:00 in the night, declaring that he is all done sleeping on his own for the night, we welcome him with open arms! A win-win situation in my mind.

Note: In case you were wondering why Atul referred to carnivores and not monsters, according to his reasoning a monster eats people and animals, so a monster cannot be a herbivore. Thus monster=carnivore.

Unaccustomed Earth by Jhumpa Lahiri

2008-07-30T02:24:19Z

I have a special liking for Jhumpa Lahiri's works for two reasons. Firstly, more often than not, her stories are set in Massachusetts or New England region. Since I have been residing in Boston suburbs for over seven years, I share a sense of kinship with the characters in her stories, as they take a stroll in Mass Ave in Cambridge or drive to the local Dunkin Donut store. Secondly, her writings help me see the lives of Indian immigrants through the eyes of their offsprings. Her stories give me a glimpse of the dilemmas that my own kid will likely face growing up in a country that is home to him, but parts of which will remain foreign to me.

Unaccustomed Earth is a collection of five short stories and a trilogy, all of which circle around the emotional struggles that the second generation of Indian Americans face in the normal course of their lives. Each of these stories examines a certain relationship, be it father-daughter, sister-brother, mother-daughter, or friend-lover, and adds a layer of complication to the relationship making the stories emotionally intensive. To relish the stories, readers must shed their prejudices and let the characters evolve on their own. There is a touch of melancholy that weaves all these stories together.

The first story, Unaccustomed Earth, is centered around the father-daughter relationship, the daughter still coping up with her mother's loss while the dad ironically feels liberated by the tragic event, and ends up falling in love with a woman that travels with him on his European trip. In Hell-Heaven, a daughter comes to terms with a break up, as she realizes how her own mom fell in love with a family friend in her youth while being married to her father. A Choice of Accommodation is the story of deteriorating marriage between a husband and wife that takes a u-turn during a weekend get away. The brother-sister relationship is captured by Only Goodness in which the brother's alcoholism threatens to jeopardize her family life. Nobody's Business is the story of deceit and one sided love. The trilogy, Hema and Kaushik, captures the story of friends-turned-lovers who choose to part ways to keep up with their spirit of independence.

Recommendation: Well written, quick read, a little stereoptyped but excellent story telling . I rate this book as above average. This is my submission for this month's edition of Thoughtful Thursdays.

We like Ikea

2008-07-24T10:46:31Z

For the most part, shopping is a chore to me. I have a morbid fear that we will start accumulating stuff, one after the other, little by little, filling up every corner in the house. The sheer variety of things in a store overwhelms me. I would set out of the house to buy A, and the second I enter the shop my eyes would fall on everything but A, until the hubby comes humming the focus song in my ears. Soaking in guilt, I would inch closer to the 75% off sale sign board as though rationalizing the purchase. Yeah right! saving on something that you wouldn't have spent the money on in the first place, would imply Arvind's eye roll. Although not a shopoholic by nature, shopping has that sort of consumerist effect on me, which is why I gladly delegate the shopping duty when an opportunity presents itself.

I should say that with time, we have come up with tricks to meander our way out of the shopping maze. If it's beyond a certain dollar value, we do not buy it the first time we see it. If the thing evokes the same liking the second time, then comes the visualizing part – which corner of the house will it take up? Is it really worthy enough to forgo that space? If it passes that test, then the thing takes a ride on the shopping cart and has to go through a quick 10 sec reality check just before going to the cash counter. It is after surviving this ordeal, that it takes its place of honor at our household.

Ikea is one place wherein we take a shortcut approach to shopping. For one, it's a paradise for people who want to see their home organized and clutter free. Most of our purchases in Ikea are towards the quest to enhance the living space of our house, so indulgence in this case is purposeful. Secondly, it is quite far off from our home, so we wait for our list of things to buy to grow and age before venturing out to the store. Thirdly, we love the sense of style the store courts: innovative, bold, vibrant, tasteful, and space conserving. The icing on the cake is that the things don't cost a boatload of money. Last, but not the least, the shopping experience itself for a change is pleasant. It's the small things about the store that convince you that a lot of thought has been put into providing a hassle free shopping experience for the customer; the readily available inch tape, pencil, and paper at every nook and corner, Small Land that takes care of kids while the parents wrap up their shopping, and the parking spots for shopping carts while you dine at their food courts. No wonder our house is slowly being Ikea-ised - our Perumal cabinet, coffee mugs, Atul's table and chair, trash bins sport the Ikea tag!

Home, sweet home

2008-07-06T04:51:29Z

It has been a year since we moved into this house. Last year I wrote about how all of us were head over heels in love with the new house here, if at all anything the fondness has only grown stronger this past year. I must confess that it is a resource consuming exercise just to keep up with the day to day maintenance of the house let alone undertaking any home improvement projects. This past year, we have seen perennials wilt in the winter and spring to life as the seasons changed. We have muttered under our breath clearing mountains and mountains of snow from our driveway. The blue jays and cardinals have delighted us with their singing and dancing in our backyard. We have learnt that as pretty as the dandelions are, they can wreak havoc on our lawn. The school bus stop at the corner of the street has Atul aspiring for elementary and high school. The friendly neighbors and the local community have only made the experience complete by extending a support system.

Did I mention that we have added a lot of personal touch to the house - the kitchen flooring has gotten duller with food stains, the walls bear our finger prints, a scratch here and a crack there; I realize that it these marks that make this house a home, our sweet home!

Changing schools

2008-07-06T03:34:21Z

I felt a lump in my throat as Arvind and I drove back lost in silence, both of us engrossed in our own world of thoughts . Last Thursday was Atul's last day at his school. The day was filled with all the fun things that he associated with school – Play ball, Show and Tell, pizza for lunch, and his friend A had come too. We handed over the treats we had bought for the kids and the staff, took some class pictures and extended our heartfelt gratitude to the teachers for making him feel at “home”, and for their contribution in molding his personality this past year. The teachers had made a beautiful scrap book for Atul as goodbye gift. It had pictures of Atul with silly faces, playing with his favorite toys, and being pally with A. Knowing Atul's liking (rather obsession) for stickers, they had included a couple of sheets of stickers for him. It was very touching. A treasure that he will cherish in the years to come.

As I pulled into our driveway on Thursday evening, I asked, “Atul are you sad that you will not be going to BH any more?”, to which he said, “I am sad because my teachers and friends will miss me”. I think he was going through mixed emotions that day. Losing the familiarity of his old school and friends made him feel insecure, but by the same token the novelty of the new school, and new toys excited him. I assured him that if he wanted, we could visit his old school to say hi to his teachers and even have play dates with old friends in the weekends.

The day also made me realize how much I counted on his teachers to be there for him - to give an extra nudge during lunch time, to teach him to stand up for himself, to comfort him when he is hurt, and to encourage him to share and care. Some days I have worried that he was missing out on the one to one interaction, but the guilty consciousness almost always vanished the second I entered his classroom in the evening for picking him up, when he would refuse to leave, and would plead for staying for “last 7 minutes”. I consider that as a yardstick to gauge how happy he was spending majority of his day away from parents, at school.

With the shift in schools, Atul will officially exit the day care environment. Bestest of best wishes to my little one. I know you will shine, wherever you are.

Atul anecdotes

2008-06-29T06:30:34Z

I must confess that I am not able to keep up with Atul's spiritual observations. His question a couple of days back – Amma, why does Lord Shiva or Lord Ganesha not wear a shirt in the pictures? I fumbled and couldn't come up with anything better. I told him, may be it's summer and it's too hot to wear a shirt. *ahem ahem*

Atul knows the story of how Lakshmana was annoyed with Surpanaka and cut her nose. He also knows the story of how Shiva was angry with Ganesha and cut his head. The other day when I scolded Atul for something, he tells me, don't get angry with me and cut my nose or head mommy.

A couple of weeks back, over dinner time, Atul declared that he gets dreams every night. Then he turned to me and said, “You don't come in my dreams today. Appa hasn't had a turn yet, so let appa come today and you can come on Saturday”. If you say so your highness!

I never would have thought that choosing a t-shirt and shorts for school could be a humongous task. Atul's criteria for picking a t-shirt - it should not have buttons or stripes, but it should have a picture, and some words, and should be made of soft material. It's an added bonus if appa or amma wear the same color clothes. Talk about knowing what one wants.

Atul's latest apprehension – the fear of missing out. Mama, please get me the ice cream now because the ice cream truck will leave before we go. Daddy, don't play the movie before I am there. Mommy, please save the spot for me, don't let anybody sit here.

Atul's latest fancy – role plays. After reading a book or watching a movie, he would quickly choose a role for himself and for mommy and daddy. He would get a kick out of repeating the dialogue and enacting the story.

Gone are the days of summer vacation

2008-06-29T05:53:26Z

One of the childhood fringe benefits that one loses growing up is the excitement revolving around summer vacation, fondly known in our household as the days of being AVK. To the uninitiated, AVK stands for Avuthu Vitta Kazhidhai, roughly translated this means a donkey that has been set free.

Yes, summer vacation meant we were set free from a lot of things - the robotic 9:00 A.M.-4:00 P.M. school schedule, whining over loads and loads of never ending homework and assignments, the marathon chatting sessions, a.k.a. combine study sessions, the need to fake health setbacks to avoid sitting for an exam, and the pressure of having to show some progress in progress reports.

Summer vacation also meant indulgences – the sweetest of bagnapalli mangoes, hanging out with friends at whim and fancy, visiting cousins and being visited by cousins, and unlimited T.V. Time.

Summer vacation also meant looking forward to new beginnings – new teachers, new classmates, new text books, new uniforms, and new curriculum.

And then my friends, as they say, life happened and with that came the realization that summer is only a season, and a change in full form for AVK - Avuka Muduyatha Kazhidai – a donkey that cannot be set free. Sigh!

The Kite Runner by Khaled Hosseini

2008-06-29T04:35:52Z

After reading Khaled Hosseini's second best book, I had my heart set on his debut, The Kite Runner. As tempting as it was, I refused to finish the book in one sitting. I savored it, word by word, line by line, reluctantly turning the pages as the novel was drawing to a close. Have you observed how following a calamity, natural or man made, the media is rife with people stories; stories that provide first hand account of what had happened and what it was like to be caught in that pandemonium. That's exactly how I look at The Kite Runner as well. As a one man's narration of how his life was influenced by the ethnic clashes in Afghanistan, and the twists and turns in the nation's political setup.

Storyline: Amir, the protoganist, grows up with Hassan, the son of his father's servant. The knowledge that he belongs to a higher echelon in the Afghan society prompts Amir to sport a snobbish attitude towards Hassan, who takes immense pleasure in being of service to Amir and is a pillar of a support for Amir, relishing his successes as though it were his own, nurturing his nascent story writing skills, and even guarding Amir from school bullies. As much as Amir hates to admit, there are bits and pieces of Hassan, like his confidence, and loyalty, that Amir wishes he imbibed. Amir is also jealous of his Baba's fondness for Hassan. It's this love hate relationship with Hassan and Amir's desire to win undivided attention from Baba that define the rest of Amir's life, and is the foundation of this novel.

Amir and Hassan take part in the local kite fighting tournament, by the end of which Hassan is assaulted by the local bullies. Amir is too coy to defend Hassan, who is willing to do anything for Amir, a thousand times over. Amir's guilty consciousness causes him to maintain a distance with Hassan, and he succeeds in driving Hassan and his father move out of his house. In the meantime, the political unrest in Afghanistan forces Amir and Baba to move to the United States, where they build their life from scratch. Days rolls into months and months to years. Amir matures, outgrows his need to win Baba's approval, and marries Soraya. All through these developments, Amir continues to be tormented for being a mute spectator on that fateful day that Hassan was brutalized.

A phone call from family friend, Rahim Khan, proves to be a chance for Amir to atone for his cowardice. To his dismay, Amir learns that Hassan is in fact his half brother, and that he and his wife were murdered by the Talibans. They are survived by son Sohrab, who is sexually abused by the local authorities at a tender age. After a long drawn struggle with the local authorities and the immigration rules, Amir brings Sohrab to US to live with his family.

Review: Whenever an ambulance or a fire engine passes by when I am driving, my first reaction is to reach out for the Ganesha idol in my car and say a 20 second prayer. A prayer for the well being of the person who has met with the accident, and a prayer to thank God for making me and my family to be at the right place at the right time. That's the kind of reaction that this novel invoked. After reading the book, I felt awful for what the Afghans had/have to go through and wished that things changed for the better, sooner than later. Then I felt thankful for being endowed with the privilege of leading a normal life. As boring as normal can sometimes be, I am more than willing to take it any day.

If there is any gripe at all, it is the unnecessarily drama revolving around Hassan being half brother to Amir. Even otherwise, Amir owed it to Hassan to save Sohrab from the villains.

Rating: Quick read, easy to follow, compelling narration, do yourself a favor by reading this book. I rate this book as outstanding.

Life on the refrigerator door by Alice Kuipers

2008-06-28T10:58:46Z

Storyline: This is the story of a mom and her daughter, as the mom struggles through a fatal health setback, captured in the form of post-it notes on the refrigerator. The mom, single and an obstetrician, and the daughter, a regular teenager, faced with conflicting schedules, rely on these little notes that they leave for each other to communicate life's mundane details such as grocery list, cleaning the rabbit cage, school presentation, as well as, the not-so-mundane topics such as the mom diagnosed with breast cancer.

My views: I have mixed views on this book. I appreciate the creativity with which the author has encapsulated the life story in little post-it notes while weaving in other side stories such as the daughter breaking up with the boy friend, childhood stories of the mom, etc. The author also does a good job of hinting the readers that their time together was not confined to few lines in these notes; just that she chose to give a glimpse into their life's happenings via these notes. I would have liked the novel more, had the author abandoned the post-it style narration as the mom's days are being counted and provided a more detailed account of how the mom and the daughter come to terms with the situation. We, as readers, deserved to be part of that journey.

Rating: Easy to read, touches your heart and to the point. I rate this book as above average for concept and as average for content.

Revisiting A Thousand Splendid Suns

2008-06-24T10:42:33Z

For this month's edition of Thoughtful Thursdays, the popular vote was for A Thousand Splendid Suns.

I have a special liking for this book because it prompted me to write my first book review ever. I read it a few months back and reviewed it here. I rate this book as above average.

Home away from Home

2008-06-15T19:59:51Z

A phrase I often use to describe Atul's day care seems suitable to express the way I feel about my life in the U.S. as well.

After some excitement over my visa, I landed in Boston seven years back. Limping due to a wrong size metti (toe ring), I dragged myself with my hand resting on Arvind's shoulder eagerly listening to all the tidbits about the ways of life in the U.S. A myriad of thoughts were running through my mind, some profound, and others mundane. The enormity of what I had left behind and the blind faith with which I was tagging along with this person for life was sinking in. Part of me was looking forward to all the milestones – first home cooked meal, first trip to the grocery store, first time meeting Arvind's friends , so on and so forth. Then in a true feminist style, there was a part of me that felt, why is it that I should give up family, friends, and career by default? why not him? That I was here on a dependent visa only rubbed salt to the injury. With this bag of conflicting emotions, I began a new chapter in my life.

The first year was a year of coping up with changes, fitting in the new environment, building a support system and exploring all the things that this country offered. In the process we discovered each other, developed greater appreciation for each other's likes and dislikes, and learnt that it was no fun pushing each other's hot buttons. The next two years we did more of what we did in the first year and with that we formed our own little traditions and laid down rules that govern the world we have built for ourselves. With Atul's arrival the concept of family and sense of belonging we have for each other and the fondness for this place has only grown over the past three years.

To put it in a nutshell, in the beginning, it was like someone had given a clean slate and the only barrier to creating something beautiful was our own imagination. Today, seven years later, I feel a sense of contentment and gratitude with what Arvind and I have created on that slate. And somewhere between the first year and today, my feminist streak has unintentionally but selectively vanished.

Me, me and me

2008-06-15T10:59:27Z

For some strange reason, this meme reminded me of the autograph books that we used to so eagerly fill when we passed out of high school. Years have rolled by. Friendships have changed, priorities have changed, I have changed, but memories remain, some fading away while others still fresh as if it were yesterday. Such is life!

Last movie you saw in a theater with the hubby is Golden Compass
What book are you reading: Kite Runner by Khaled Hosseini
Favorite board game: used to be Chinese Checkers
Favorite smells: I am going with hand creams and lotions this time – the unbeatable Johnson and Johnson baby lotion, and the next favorite is, honey dew melon and cucumber hand cream.
Favorite sound: Atul giggling
Worst feeling in the world: I feel the worst when someone that's close to my heart is in trouble, and I am not able to do anything to solve it. It takes a lot of mental coaching to let go and remind myself that things have a way of sorting itself out, and I don't necessarily have to play a part in it.
What is the first thing you think of when you wake up: Is it 5'o clock?
Favorite fast food place: Panera Bread – quick, consistent and predictable food and service
Future child's name: Don't know. But definitely something that doesn't start with a A (I simply have too many A people around me – hubby, son, brother, sis-in-law)
Finish this statement. "If I had a lot of money, I'd ... give some more for charity.
Do you drive fast: Yes, sometimes.
Do you sleep with a stuffed animal: Nah! Can never relate to fancy for stuffed toys.
Storms - Cool or scary: Neither
What was your first car: Toyota Echo
Favorite drink: Swiss Miss/Dunkin Donuts hot chocolate.
Finish this statement. "If I had the time, I would..." waste it. Yes, when I don't have the time I crib about how little time I have, but when I do have the time in my hands, I do nothing with it.
Do you eat the stems on broccoli? Sure!
If you could dye your hair any color, what would be your choice?: Brownish Maroon
Name all the different cities/towns you have lived in: Bangalore, Trichirapalli, Coimbatore, Mettupalayam, Madurai, Madras, Malden, Melrose, Lexington
Favorite sports to watch: Haven't really followed any particular sport, but would really like to watch basketball and tennis
One nice thing about the person who sent this to you: that would be me – nallaval, vallaval... :-)
What's under your bed? Layers and layers of dust
Would you like to be born as yourself again? Why not, I like being me.
Morning person or night owl: Hard core morning person. Suffice to say I sleep at 8:30/9:00 P.M. And wake up at 4:30 or 5:00 A.M daily.
Over easy or sunny side up: Don't know
Favorite place to relax: Our backyard, especially in the spring, early in the morning. The contentment that comes from seeing all the perennials sprouting, and the birds chirping and hopping around is immeasurable. For those few minutes, I get the feeling that I have the world to myself!
Favorite pie: Don't like pies
Favorite ice cream flavor: More of a cake person than an ice cream person. Anything chocolate. On second thoughts, mango.

Tagged

2008-06-08T10:49:20Z

Spillay has tagged me to do the Booky-Tag that has been doing the rounds in the blogosphere. Thanks Spillay, this is my first time being tagged. The rules are:

1. Pick up the nearest book
2. Open to page 123
3. Find the fifth sentence
4. Post the next 3 sentences
5. Tag five people, and acknowledge the person who tagged you

Before I proceed, here's a confession. I would like to think that I am a book worm or a voracious reader. But between competing priorities, and looming deadlines, my daily quota of reading is confined to news (which I sometimes catch up on radio while cooking or on my way to work), blogs, Dr. Seuss, Curious George and the like! I guess this is my long winded way of saying that the nearest books are safely tugged in the comfort of our book shelf in the living room.

That being said, the “nearest” book that I have picked is “The Kite Runner” by Khaled Hosseini, which I am planning to finish within the next couple of weeks.

The three sentences beginning with the fifth sentence on page 123 say, “Well, time to go and set up.” He and Baba kissed on the cheek and he shook my hand with both of his. “Best of luck with the writing”, he said, looking me in the eye.

Spillay asked me to do this only if I think I was going to have fun. I did, and more importantly, it achieved the higher purpose of bringing the book "near" me :-) So if you think you will have fun or that this tag would serve a certain purpose, just do it!

God give me patience, but soon!

2008-06-01T11:41:28Z

I remember this saying written in bold words on a black board in one of our Hindi classrooms as a "Thought for the Day". Years later, I am beginning to feel that this was coined with folks like me in mind. You know you are impatient when:

- You place your food in the microwave and set it for 2 mints looking forward to a warm lunch, but simply cannot let it run it's course if you are not multitasking.

- You are making adai/uttappam and you are tempted to turn it the other side even before it's done in order to be done with it.

- It's a green signal and the car in front of you is waiting to take a left turn. How you wish you had left seconds earlier to give you an edge over that vehicle that seems to be taking its sweet time to move on.

- You repeatedly hit the refresh button on your browser hoping that it would load the crawling web page faster.

- You plant the fenugreek seeds today and keep staring at the pot every two to three hours hoping that the mere act would hasten the germination.

- You want to chew your candy, even the hard one, instead of experiencing the pleasure of it melting in your mouth.

- You conveniently conclude that ending a list with a round number is all in the mind.

On that note, enjoy rest of the weekend and have a good week ahead.

A special bond

2008-06-01T11:03:00Z

When Atul sees a kid of his age in a mall or even an akka* (yes, for some reason, he loves hanging out with akkas) at social gatherings, you can see that glitter in his eyes reflecting his desire to interact, play, and make friends with that person. He would slowly inch towards him/her and initiate a conversation. Likewise, it's not uncommon to see him engage in a dialog with the librarian as we check out the books, or a fellow shopper as we parade through the aisles at the store. He has his moments of shyness, but for the most part he is an outgoing child.

Given this context, I was not surprised when Atul's teacher mentioned a few months back that he has taken a special liking to this kid, A, and that it's common to spot them giggling and doing stuff together. It was good to know but I did not read too much out of it, and quickly concluded that at this age it's a fleeting phenomenon. Nothing could be farther from the truth. Six months later, the bond has only become thicker and deeper. Atul is particularly excited on the days that this kid comes to school. He gets a kick out of peering through the glass window outside his class, spotting A and screaming his name at the top of his voice. The excitement is mutual. A would come running wanting to hug Atul as soon as Atul enters the classroom. Then the two would go around chasing each other (did I mention that it's a special sight, and every time I see it, I would go awwww!). At home, Atul likes to pretend that one of his bath toys is he and the other is A. When we made play dough, he wanted to save some for A, who brought something special for Atul when he returned from his vacation.

It's nice to see Atul forming bonds on his own, outside his family without any initiative from our end. Tells us volumes about his budding personality.

* In Indian context, refers to any girl that's older to you, say, by three or more years.

Economically sound and environmentally safe

2008-05-26T20:28:32Z

I grew up in a typical middle class family. There was no shortage of necessities, but wastage of any form was considered a crime. One look from my dad and uncles, and I would gobble up all the unappetizing vegetables on my plate. My brother and I would get reprimanded if we failed to switch off the tube lights and fans after we leave a room. When we went out, either our Bajaj Chetak was running at full capacity or we would take the public transportation. I don't remember getting groceries in plastic bags until I came to the U.S.

In hindsight, although most of what I have cited were prompted by economic reasons, I couldn't help noticing how environmentally sound these practices were. Today, as we battle global warming, and food price inflation, and talk about reducing carbon footprint and adopting a minimalist approach to life, I smile and wonder how complicated we have made our lives to be. Lucky for me, I can manage by borrowing a leaf or two from my childhood!

The art of negotiation

2008-05-26T18:56:37Z

Atul is quickly learning the art of negotiation. He has discovered that there are only so many NOs a parent is capable of saying. So he would keep trying and trying until he gets something, some silly thing, from the negotiation process. It may not be something that he was interested in to begin with, but that doesn't matter because he would rather develop a liking to it than end the negotiation empty handed. Here's a sample of Atul's fine negotiation skills. Atul sleeps in his toddler bed, while either Arvind or I sleep in the twin bed (at a slightly lower level) next to him (Did I mention that we are transitioning Atul from family bed to his own bed?). He would use every opportunity to hop into the twin bed for that snug feeling that comes from sleeping next to mommy or daddy. This particularly happens during the early hours when there is a slight shift in his sleep pattern. So the other day, he got into negotiation mode at 3:00 in the morning:

Atul: Mommy, can I sleep next to you?
Me: No kanna (no dear)
Atul: Please mommy, just for today.
Me: Illa da kanna. You are a big boy now and you have to sleep on your own in the big boy bed. Go to sleep now kanna, amma is feeling sleepy too.
Atul: But mommy, you are all alone there
Me: It's ok ma. You are here right next to me. I don't feel lonely at all.
Atul: I think you will start crying now.
Me: Illa da raja. I don't feel sad at all. Now go to sleep.
Atul: Can you atleast give me your hand?
Me: No ma kanna. Amma's hands will start aching if I keep my hand on you for a long time.
Atul: Can you keep your hands atleast for two minutes, please please?

It's easier to fight the tantrums than the please. And as I said earlier there are only so many NOs that one is capable of saying, especially at 3:00 in the morning. I succumb, and he wins!

Time flies and time heals!

2008-05-18T11:32:53Z

If I were to run a search on my blog for the most commonly used word, the likelihood that it would come up with “time” is a one hundred percent. I am constantly amazed at how quickly time flies. I remember getting excited about the weekend on Friday, but it's already Sunday morning and time to get ready for the week. For that matter, it's already May. We are in 2008. Can you believe that?!

However, only recently I am beginning to appreciate time's role as a healer for myriad of things, all the more for trivial negative emotions, such as temptations, irritability, anger and disappointments. When I find myself succumbing to the temptation of grabbing that snack from the vending machine, the saner voice in me reminds, “give it some time, if you feel the same way after an hour, go ahead and grab that snack”. Guess what? Giving that one hour did heal the temptation. Likewise, for irritability and anger. When I find myself snapping at Arvind or Atul, I give myself a time out, to remind me that all the anger or irritability will heal in few minutes but the damage inflicted from it will last longer. This realization has been powerful to me and hopefully will help me stay in tune with the bigger picture.

And then there are things like hunger which you wish healed by itself so that you don't have to rake your brain about what to cook for today. On that note, my "me" time is up, enjoy the rest of the weekend.

I got an award!!!

2008-05-18T10:23:17Z

“I got an award, I got an award” is the song humming in my head (and probably my hubby's as well, considering the gazillion times I made a mention about it all evening yesterday ) ever since I read Laksh's blog post passing the “You make my day” award to me and a couple of other bloggers. A wagon load of “Thank Yous” Laksh, it's the highlight of my weekend, and a milestone for my blog! Touched, honored, flattered and motivated are few of the adjectives that I would use to describe the way I feel upon receiving this award.

That being said, it's my turn to spread the happiness around. I would like to dedicate and pass this award to those of you that leave your footprint on this blog. While blogging is a hobby that I indulge in purely for personal pleasure, it thrills me every single time I see a LiveJournal comment email sitting in my inbox (informing me who has commented and what the comment is). The extrinsic value for my blog comes from the comments that it receives from its readers. If you are someone who comments here often or even left a one-off comment in the past, please know that you truly make my day, and to all of you, I pass this, “You make me day” award. You are one of the reasons I want to write more. You are one of the reasons the blog is alive. Thank you!

Eat, Pray and Love by Elizabeth Gilbert

2008-05-11T06:08:49Z

I have been wanting to re-cultivate my reading habit for donkey's years. So, when Laksh announced the idea of Thoughtful Thursdays on her blog, it felt like a golden opportunity to just do that. Let me now cut to the chase - the book assigned for this month's Thoughtful Thursday is Eat, Pray and Love by Elizabeth Gilbert. If you haven't read this memoir, please be cautioned that the following paragraphs will likely contain spoilers.

Eat, Pray and Love is an account of Elizabeth Gilbert's journey of self-discovery as she travels to Italy, India and Indonesia following a harrowing divorce experience. After being married for eight years, the author realizes one fine night that she is not cut out to lead a conventional life of being married to someone (that she doesn't love anymore), and bearing a child. That very night she discovers her inner voice, which goes dormant for a while but in the months to come will be her guardian angel. Getting separated from her husband turned out to be a lot harder than she had imagined, by the end of which she is physically, emotionally and financially drained. It's then that she decides to take a year off to travel to Italy, India and Indonesia to experience the different facets of life.

I thoroughly enjoyed the first section of the book, which covers the author's stay in Italy. Here, she gets fluent in Italian, gains more than thirty pounds and understands the true meaning of pleasure . Her description of Rome and the laid back attitude of the Italians made me want to experience a bit of that country. She struck a chord with me, when she described how difficult it was for her initially to experience the pleasure of doing nothing. Being used to a very happening and eventful life, it takes a while for the author to give herself permission to do nothing and to be just in the moment. As much as I complain about lack of time, I know for a fact that I would get fidgety if I had all the time in the world but no clearly defined things to do.

The second section of the book, in which she narrates about her stay in India, is closer to my heart. In India, she hones her meditation skills, communicates with God and practices the art of letting go. In some ways, this section reminded me of the Home Improvement show, except that this is more spiritual than the psychological bent in Home Improvement . Richard from Texas, with whom the author shares a special friendship and who keeps throwing nuggets of wisdom every now and then, reminded me of the character Wilson in Home Improvement episodes. However, even for someone who was born and brought up with the same religious background that the author sought, I zoned out when she described Kundalini and her spiritual rendezvous with her ex-husband at the top of a temple.

The third and the final section of the book, which describes her stay in Indonesia was a big let down for me. In Indonesia, she experiences bliss, falls in love and learns to strike a balance between pleasure and devotion. To me, this section had all the ingredients of a soap opera – love, friendships, deceit, and a fairy tale ending. The author could have done a better job of hand holding the readers to help us understand how she was able to put her learnings in Italy and India to practice in Indonesia and thereby strike a balance between pleasure and spirituality. A little insight into how her own attitude and life changed as a result of her travels would have given a closure to the readers.

The likability of this book is proportional to the extent to which you can personally relate to the author's experiences. It's a well written memoir and a light read. I rate this book as somewhere between average and above average.

How to Get you kid to eat .... but not too much by Ellyn Satter

2008-05-11T03:27:33Z

Don't let the title of this book mislead you into thinking that it's for tackling child obesity related issues. While it's one of the topics covered, the book is mostly about molding parent's attitude towards eating habits of their offspring.

Food is not one of Atul's favorite subject. He eats well when he is hungry, but there is no guarantee that he would eat every single meal and snack, every single day. There have been days when he had polished his lunch and then there have been days when the very same menu came back untouched. When we raised it as a concern to Atul's pediatrician, she advised that toddlers need just one and a half full meal per day to help them stay healthy and aid their growth. We were told, as long as it averages out, he is in a good place.

Later, when I was discussing this with a friend, she recommended this book to me and I am so glad I took her advise and checked it out. The underlying theme of the book is the clear division of responsibility between parents and kids when it comes to eating. Parents are responsible for what is presented to eat and the manner in which it is presented. Children are responsible for how much and even whether they eat.

Children will eat. They are capable of regulating their food intake. They generally react negatively to new foods but will usually accept them with time and experience. Parents can either support or disrupt children's food acceptance and food regulation.

Children eat best when parents follow their lead, set appropriate limits, and food in a smooth, comfortable and emotionally satisfying fashion. Children eat worst when parents are either domineering or neglectful in feeding.

You shouldn't force your child to eat. It is the most unhelpful thing you could possibly do. You are crossing the lines when you try to control on the amount a child eats. You are also crossing the lines when you fail to take responsibility for planning and preparing meals and snacks and for making them important.

There is a difference between putting on the pressure and setting limits. If you fail to set limits, you won't like what happens, and your child will not do well. You have to find the middle ground between being too rigid and controlling and letting things go out of control.

Children vary in how much they eat, in what they like and in their love of eating. , children vary day to day

Family meals – gives structure

If what you have on the table and what you prepare for snacks is generally desirable, your child can have the occasional meal or snack that isn't so wonderful and he will still be alright nutritionally.

You are the gatekeeper: the one who controls what foods come, in quantity, into the house. Don't underestimate the enormous influence managing the source of supply can have over your child's eating. Even if he doesn't initially accept everything you offer him, eventually, he will, because that's what he is familiar and that what he sees people who are important to him eating.

You take your gatekeeper function seriously not only when you buy good food but also when you keep foods out of the house that you don't approve of. You needn't apologize for not buying pop or potato chips if you don't want those to be a staple in your child's diet.

Offer a variety of food on the table. Put it all on the table, so that there are several dishes he can pick and choose from. Don't make the mistake of presenting one at a time, because they will seem like his refusing and your offering alternatives.

You also need not give in to panhandling when he comes around right after the meal wanting something to eat. He can wait for the next planned snack.

The book helped us look at Atul's eating habits in a whole new perspective. While we never took to force feeding him, we certainly thought it was our responsibility to monitor how well and how much he ate. We are slowly learning to unlearn this attitude and trust Atul to regulate the quantity of his food intake. We have some simple rules that he is expected to abide by during meal time. No watching TV or reading books while eating. No moving around during meal time. Eat while you eat, play while you play. The only snacks that will be served at home during week days will be fruits. However, he gets to choose anything for his snack time during the weekend, no questions asked. He is required to do three things after meal time - put his plate in the sink, clean himself up, drink some water.

We see a big improvement in Atul's eating behavior after following some of the simple things outlined in the book. But more importantly, the battle of wills at meal time has definitely come down over the past couple of months.

30 years old or young? does it even matter?

2008-05-10T10:44:39Z

Thirty years and 12 days. Yes, that's how old I am today and I feel like screaming that from the top of a mountain, mostly out of relief. I think after I turned 27 or 28, the days around my birthday were getting to be a little less mirthful and a little more introspective. I would catch myself making mental tick marks and filling in the blanks – Am I any better as a daughter, sister, wife, mom, daughter-in-law, friend , research analyst, a human being than I was last year? What have I accomplished this year? Am I growing or just aging? Blah, blah. My husband, who started counting his age backwards since he turned 30, would readily empathize and reassure me that it's all in the game. I dreaded turning 30, because in my mind, that number painted the picture of a middle aged woman, who was wise, mature and accomplished. And I feared that I would be middle aged, sans the wisdom, maturity and accomplishment.

So how did it feel when I actually turned 30 a couple of weeks back? Relieved, blessed and aware! Relieved, at the realization that Thirty was just a number, and that I was attaching way too much importance to it. I did not feel a day older than I was a year or two back. Blessed, because of all the things that I may have been without but have been blessed with. I felt like I wanted to treasure my blessings in the palm of my hands. Aware, that I may not live up to the standards I have set for myself, but overall, I am happy with who I am, where I am and what I do, at this point in life.

Moving on to jollier stuff – the celebration. Atul was slightly unwell that weekend, but that only altered our plans not dismiss them. We ordered a Thai take out, went to temple and ended with the usual cake cutting. We had some nice quiet family time. All the b'day wishes that poured in from friends and family left me with the warm and fuzzy feeling that one would want to have on a b'day. Needless to say, I was grinning ear to ear all through the week.

The celebration continued the following weekend as well with a surprise trip to Nashville to visit my twin and his wife. My sister-in-law and I plotted it a month in advance and we just couldn't wait to see Arun's reaction. Knock, knock, who's that? is literally how the three of us went to their place. That flabbergasted look on Arun's face was the best b'day present I could have asked for!