The long walk home 8 Jul 2012

The time for this story has come. And some things just need tobe heaved off the heart. So I am going to tell you a story, a true story of what happened to me. Frank often calls me 'prude'. He tells me, 'Jen you are far too prudish for anyone to want to be close friends with you instantly'. When I ask him what it means, he scoffs and tells me - 'You always want to do the right thing Jenny. And people dont want to be around those people'. My belief in doing things right comes from my Dad who believed in the beauty of the meticulous. And my belief in karma has added rigidity towards rights and wrongs to my character.

But there was this one time that I faltered too. Many years ago when I was say in my twenties, I made a trip to Goa with my friends. It was easy to identify that the shops were touristy and highly overpriced. Walking along the streets near Calanghute, I came across the Tibetian silver market. I used to wear a lot of silver jewellery those days. Browsing throught the stalls, I quickly identified one stall where the designs were unique. An old articulate Tibetian/Chinese man sat at the stall on a lil stool. I tried on a variety of things and quickly chose 2 bracelets, a few pendants and earrings. I also like a blue enamel inlay on silver toe ring that I tried on.  When I asked him the total price, he quoted an extragavant price, much much above the real value. It was Goa. I haggled, he haggled back and then we agreed. While I put my things together to pack he noticed that there was a silver pendant which was a part of the deal that he hadn't noticed first.
He: 'Ma'am I didn't know this silver pendant was also included else I would have never agreed for this price.' he said reluctantly
Me: 'But it was!' (was true)
He: 'See, ma'am I would never allow this, but since I gave you my tongue(meaning meri zubaan, or my word) I will not go back'
Me: 'Great thank you'

He packed up the things,  and I paid him the money. As I was leaving, I noticed the blue enamel oe ring that I had tried on was still on my toe. I initially thought of bringing it up. But seeing his reaction to the silver pendant, I didn't want another drama. Honestly speaking the price was atleast 10 times more than what it should have been. Feeling justified, I walked off with my things, not bothering to be honest. 'After all he was over charging any way', I angrily thought to myself.  The blue enamel ring somehow seemed to set the balance right.  I guiltily talked to myself along the way, saying a bargain can be made either way by yelling or quietly setting things right. It was a long walk though for a person like me, brought up on very strong principles. My father was a stickler for doing the right things. I remember him asking us to go to the zerox shop if we requested him to take more than 2 photocopies of a page from his office.

My Goa trip ended and I went back to my routine. I wore the bracelet and loved the compliments coming my way. I wore it for... 4 days?The 5th day, I noticed it was gone! just like that from my hand! I combed the house and my office desk drawers and every place I knew. With  a heavy heart, I put it out of my mind. I finally wore the other bracelet I had picked up.
 2-3 days later that too just disappeared from my wrist. I hadn't removed it, the clasp was bitten down  tightened by my teeth.  I couldn't believe I was so careless. I went through the entire business of searching and screaming again. My mom couldn'tget her head around to ehether it was the same one or another one I was searching for.
 'But you just lost one' she said.
'Yes, I know' I snapped back impatiently.
Then the spookiest thing happened. Every one of the trinkets, I had picked up from his stall seemed to get lost. Either they just disappeared, or would get stolen or something freakish would happen to make them fall off my body when I was unaware.
By then, my nagging conscience was yelling at me. I watched everything go. In a way it made me feel like I deserved it or to some extent better even. Like things were being set right in my karmic equation. It was like karma truly came back around to tell me that it didn't take many years but just a few weeks to settle the score. All I was left was with the blue enamel toe ring. I had finally paid its price...in full.

Limping Mango 18 June 2012

This blog was so on my mind that when my favourite blogger Seema wrote about it; I had to get down and write about it.


I LOVE mangoes! And so does BB. And so does both our families. And by mangoes I mean 'The Alphonso.' Now in BB's house the mango season is a sight to be witnessed. My MIL buys crates of Alphonso mangoes at whole sale rates and religiously cuts mangoes every night for the family.  If we happen to be visiting, we are treated to never ending plates of cut up mangoes and mango shakes. (yeah she is nice that way!) This time too was no different. So this time we ordered 2 dozens of Alphonsoes too. They disappeared rather quickly. The nearby fruit sellers don't stock the good variety and we did not have time to go to the whole-sale market place. So while picking up our weekly quota of fruit, I happened to check out this 'other mango'. I have dutifully turned my nose at every other kind for so many years, except for the 'rasa aam'. This one you have to squeeze before you bite open the area surrounding the stalk. The squeezing ensures breakdown of the pulp so that all you need to do is suck out the mango goodness when you remove the stalk. So back to my topic, I wrinkled my nose at this 'other mango' and the fruit seller insisted I try it. 'Langda bhabi' he insisted.
Me: huh?
FS: try karo bhabhi, pasand nahi aaya to full paisa wapas.
It was a dare!
Me: Theek hai. Ek dozen dena

I walked back home smug -thinking of the look on his face when I returned the mangoes. Yes I have done that before. The weird thing about the Langda is the skin is always green no matter how ripe the mango gets. It is a very non-mango trait. Post dinner BB cut and peeled the mangoes dutifully. This is one useful skill that he has picked up from his family. I had the first bite cautiously only to be hit with a wave of flavour and sweetness. It had an underlying taste of camphor which I did not much favour but the taste sort of grew on me. I recollected eating it as a child in Chennai. All in all I loved it!
I think I will try all the varieties of mango this season just to make sure I have enough backup when the Alphonso backs out on me.

Gubbi started playschool 15 June 2012

Luckily I work in a company that allows us to work from home when the situation demands it. Just for people who don't know, every morning I drive to work for a good 1 1/2 hours and clock in about 8 hours at work and I'm back on the roads for a 1 1/2 hour drive back home. So being allowed to work from home comes as a huge relief. I try and work from home every Wednesday so that there is a mid-week break and I can trudge back to work for the next two days with renewed energy. Occasionally I work from home 2 times a week -when I'm not well, have a couple of errands etc. My MIL takes care of my daughter during the day. BB drops Gubbi in the mornings and I pick her up in the evenings.
This time the occasion was perfect. Little Gubbi has started play school. She is all of 2 years and 4 months and already carrying a school bag. Awww. Most parents do the horrible thing of scaring their child off school. They are always like, 'If you are naughty we will send you to school' or 'I'm gonna tell your teacher about this'. So the child hates the thought of school or teacher even before he/she actually tries it.
We did the reverse, we made it sound fun and exciting. We told her the teacher would love her, and there would be games and fun and all things nice. And if she was a good girl, she could get to go to school and play with all the kids there. So Gubbi was pumped about playschool. On the big day I chose to work from home and took a break at 10:30 am to run to my MIL's house where the playschool van was scheduled for a pick -up. Unexpectedly shestarted crying piteously and clung to me before being put in. MIL and I then followed her van by car to the school. The attendants were ushering the kids inside the playschool one by one. I peeked in through the rear window and saw my little Gubbi awaiting her turn and crying anxiously. When the attendant picked her up, I called out to her and said it was okay and that I would come and get her later. She looked relieved to see me but held out her tiny arms and called out to me "Mama, mama, mujhe aapke paas aana hai". My heart broke and I was misty eyed in a second. I managed to wave out to her smiling with great difficulty. When I turned to go, I spotted my MIL standing right behind the crowd with tears flowing down her cheeks... That's the kind of love only grandparents can have for their grandchildren. I may have many complaints about MIL but not loving or not caring for my child can never be one of them.
It is day 4 today, the crying has been ebbing. She seems to be having fun.

Sigh! I feel like such a grown-up already.

Am I Lynette? 11 Jun 2012

Well, if I haven't shared it with anyone yet, I love watching Desperate Housewives! The character that I identify with the most is Lynette Scavo. Smart, practical, go getter, hard worker and strong. She has 5 kids with her husband Tom Scavo for 23 years. She is always dressed in slacks and a comforatble tee or a shirt and almost always, always has laundry with her. She is either collecting or folding clothes.Lol. Lately I have been watching the latest season of Desperate Housewives and was really upset to find Lynette and Tom seperated and on the brink of divorce. How could a steadfast strong couple like that find themselves on the rocks?
As they struggle through their seperation Lynette is shown introspecting herself. She wonders if she drove Tom away because she always wanted Tom to do what she wanted. She thinks about how she has manipulated him to take the decisions she thinks is best for him or their family. She kicks herself for cribbing about wanting things to be a particular way. Most of all she is sad for never letting him be. Having said all of this, Lynette as a character pushes Tom- a relaxed and easy going guy off the couch, sprinting towards goals. I always felt she made him realise his true potential and by being the more responsible one shoulders shitloads of responsibility. That was always the reason she would be exasperated to see her husband taking the easy way out or shirking making difficult decisions.
But the fact remains that her pushing Tom so much also ends up pushing him away.

When I watched that I couldn't help but think about myself. Am I like that too? Pushing BB all the time. Setting a benchmark for everything, making sure everything was perfect and wearing the pants all the time? It disturbed me quite a bit and for quite some time.

Girls night out 2 Feb 2012

These days, I often find myself wishing I were younger and more fab looking. My thoughts always go back to this one night where 4 of us girlfriends decided to hit a disco for a night out. I, as usual had nothing to wear. I am a Tam Bhram hence we don't have singlets and shiny stuff and high heels in our wardrobe. You might find some well-worn tops, loads of black and brown(because they go with everything) and sensible footwear. So this time my friends Chari, Pidi and Shina decided to help out. Chari and Pidi were my office colleagues. Chari gave me a velvety tiny dress which had a thin straps and a long zip at the back. It fit me perfectly. Pidi loaded me a tiny netted jacket which covered my shoulders. With a bit of make up I was ready. I had been to discos and night outs before but this time the feeling of rebellion and daring was heady.

I walked in to PL -the disco and hit the floor first. A guy silently watching me from the corner walked up to me and danced with me. He danced with me all night. Chari got a little naughty and smooched a random stranger. Pidi and Shina hurriedly looked into their drinks. Then all of a sudden...a familiar tune came on. It was Superstar...Jamelia. For some reason, that night it sounded extra nice. I started grooving only to see Pidi and Chari waving at me from the bar counter. 'How did they get up there?' I wondered.
Just as I thought these thoughts, two good looking hunks came up to me..."hey you should get up there too!"
Me? No... I don't...
Yeah ...yeah..you should. Here we will give you a lift..
Before I could say something, I was lifted as easily as air by the two gorgeous hunks onto the table.
And the crowd cheered. And then... when the beats took over, me and my girfriends rocked it!!!

Why you ask this night comes back to me? Well when I am sober, and I think back....the hunks don't seem gorgeous and I remember the guy who danced with me all night had pan masala on his breath. But the reason I remember this night fondly is- I was looking good, in a hot number, I was thin and I dare to think ...even sexy. When you are confident about the way you look, you percieve the world differently you know? It is a heady feeling.

Now after having a baby when I look at my love handles and the steadily accumulating tyres and stretch marks on my waist... it is the one fond memory that I look back at.
So let me be.

Daddy is a drag queen 31 Jan 2012

These days BB and me have been quarrelling all the time. It's about seemingly inconsequential things but they somehow snowball into these huge arguments.
So let me tell you about this one. I fell ill for like a day... 8 hours to be specific! I came home after work and suddenly got the shivers. Took a pill and conked off at night. The next day I woosily woke up to hushed typing. BB was at home! "I thought I'd work from home for a bit to you know help around" he said
 "Oh gee thanks" I mumbled. Now any couple who has been married for more than 1 year knows that when hubby and wife are at home on a "working day" you know what that means! Ok for those(non -married) who are getting a vision of cuddles and kisses...let me clear the air immediately. The married I know must have already heaved a sigh! yes it means verbal parries and little squabbles. Well, that's the way it usually turns out for me and BB. So I'm trying to discreetly avoid him until evening springs a nasty surprise.

I see the dal and milk left on the kitchen table. I distinctly remember telling him to heat it up. I do it anyway grumbling. Then this time I ask him to pack it in a tiffin box to take it to my M.I.L's house. My hubby was supposed to reach first and I was to follow a little while later. He forgets!!! Now I call him, and then we have a major squabble on the phone. Post dinner, I avoid talking to him entirely except for making those taunting sighs when he would drop something, or grumble when he was at hearing shot. Now mind this, BB refuses to fight with me in situations like these. Hence I am left with a whole lot of practiced sentences and insults in my head. So I am kreening like Mount Vesuvius with the unspent energy. He is sadistic that way.

The next morning I was getting ready to go to work. I was applying liptick when my Gubbi comes prancing into the room and points at my lipstick with her little chubby fingers.
"Mama, mujhe lipstick lagao..." "Put lipstick for me"she commands.
I oblige and screw the lipper so that nothing touches those rosy petals except the metal body. I pretend to apply. She turns and admires her reflection in the mirror.
 "Mama ye aapka lipstick hai? " "Is this your lipstick?" she asks.
"Haan beta" "yes darling", I reply.
To test the veracity of my answer she asks "ye papa ka lipstick hai?"
Without wasting a second I reply "Haan beta, Daddy is a drag queen"
And with that I burst into guffaws of laughter. I could see BB smoulder just a bit. I continued laughing and just made it slightly maniacal in the end. You know the irritating kind?

I finally had my revenge.

What the Heck! 30 Jan 2012

I finally met Heck, Frank's half brother. The thing that shocked me about Heck is one- how white he really was and two- how young he looked. Heck is 22 years old with brownish hair, from the UK and he has blue eyes. I liked him instantly. We spoke, the conversation was easy and free flowing.
Now I have been a speech trainer for a decade (nearly) so when I start speaking with a foreigner, my tongue automatically clips off the hard t , r and d sounds which form the Indian accent. Frank (within two minutes) asked me why I was putting on an accent. I told him I wasn't. Anyway, but when Frank was talking to Heck I noticed that he was clipping his sounds too. I cattily commented on that immediately.
I was bursting to tell him that if he really had the balls he should be talking to Edna who has a fake, roll off, Punjabi mixed with american accent. Sounds worse than some of the call centre guys I have trained.
I have a good mind to splash his face with a jug of ice cold water and hear him yelp in Punjabi- Hai Mere rabba....Aee kee hoya a and then let me see Frank trying to tell him about his fake accent.
Anyway coming back to Heck. He is the sweetest boy ever! I did feel like sittting him down, combing his hair and feeding him grapes. Yes I know! that's a weird thing to say.
I mentioned it to BB who laughed his head off.