Walking On SonShine

Gandhigiri, Guilt & Gobsmacked !

2011-09-11T23:54:00.000-07:00

We had a serious conversation today on “gandhigiri”. It was in thecontext of an essay Ishu had to write for school – My Favourite Leader and,relevant, because he had just seen a blatant display of it by me.

The Conversation :

Chotu, slightly irritated (he hates people taking advantage of me andunfortunately, all my men , of all sizes, think that’s happening all the time..guys, give me a break..do I look anything like a damsel in distress) : Whydid u do what u just did?

Me, pretending to not understand, knowing that I’m in for the longhaul on this one : “What baby…”

“When u know someone is not behaving right with you, why do u have toact like super mommy?”

Me, still not willing to hand it to him in a platter, “Hain, U haven’t beenbehaving right with me? Why?”

“Mom…Stop acting..stop treating me like a 10 yr old (by the way, he isa 10 yr old)..i know when u say things and, are thinking something else”

By now, I’m slightly wary of the path this discussion is seeminglytaking and I look at him and in an extremely “brace urself child..this is urGod speaking mode” : “Baby this is gandhigiri”

He looks bored : “ ya I know ..i saw munnabhai…but what is gandhigiri?”

“When someone does something to hurt u or against u, u do somethingthat makes them regret it, feel bad about it and, hopefully not do it again”

Chotu : “Ya like that fight I had on the field yesterday…I’m sure Adifeels bad and there is no way he’s gonna repeat it”

Me, absently : “Going to not gonna…baby we’re studying for an Englishtest..do u mind? And, No, Gandhiji was anti violence so no fighting andhitting.”

Chotu, after some serious biting of the lip and a twinkle later : “Gotit….u make the other person feel guilty…mean mean mommy J “

Me, glad that this bulb is finally working and, happy that I am thereason he is lit up : “Great..yeah…guilty…u feel good, the other person feelsscrewed up and balance is restored…tan tana..”

“Mom, yes and not yeah, bad and not that word u don’t want me to say.Mommy, we’re studying for an English test..how could u??”

I’m looking slightly sheepish but I turnmy nose up a little and give him the dirty mommy look, the one that doesn’tbother him one bit.

“Mom, so u mean to say, the English went back to England because wemade them feel guilty?

That sounds unreal.

And then, why is Anna Hazare called Gandhi ?

Because the government is not feeling guilty and, they’ve just made a“strategic retreat”..dad says that.

While we are at it mom, whats “strategic retreat” ??"

Thats, when, I decide, to show him, rather than talk him, through it. Iwalk out.... with a lot of commas...hmmph !

A Teaser, Resumption & Short Stuff ...

2011-09-08T21:42:00.000-07:00

The last time I came here it was 2009 ..and today, I for the life of me can't figure out how I left :) ...

the stories make me smile because they tell the tale of a boy growing up really fast and his surroundings trying hard to keep up with him. Decided to reactivate both my blogs today ..

so here I am... I have many stories to tell ..a lot has happened in the last 2 years..

for now its suffice to say that the entrepreneurial spirit runs deep in the family and rages wild in the blood...

As of the last few weeks, my boy has become the cycle mechanic of the society and we are damn damn proud of him :)....

will come back and do this teaser justice in detail tonight..till then...relive the ones before this ..we will resume business post working hours :)

Nimbu Paani

2009-08-17T03:27:00.000-07:00

Just to jump to the most crucial conversation I have had with my son in all these years of non stop entertainment…

As we settle down @ 56 (that’s an Italian restaurant in Gurgaon by the way) and munch our way through the amazing garlic toasties…..I shrewdly bring forth the topic…THE decision of our lives…although, it’s a bit early, to put it mildly..

“So, betu, have u decided? What are u gonna become in life?”

A very serious pause…I would have said pregnant but after serving the most clichéd question to my 8 yr old sweetheart I was avoiding clichés u see…

“Mom I’m going to sell nimbu paani….”

Ah…ah…ah…wellll ..good good (modern open mom…yummy I say!)

“And, why do u want to sell nimbu paani baby?”

“I don’t like what these CEOs do…I don’t want to become a CEO…”

“Hain??
Okkkkkk…so what don’t u like Ishu??”

“Mom, I’ll become a big director/producer..people will line up to take my sign..they’ll come from far…I don’t like this crowd business….”

Hmmm…biiig problem!

“I just want to be close to as many animals as I can and, make the environment around me happy.”

“And, how will selling nimbu paani help u do that?”

“Are mom…I will lead a simple life….all animals..all human beings feel thirsty…I will give them nimbu paani..and make them happy.”

I try not to react..and sort of take a tumble….

“Betu you could always try becoming a National Geographic photographer…..”

He looks at me, smiles an indulgent smile and says…

“yup… ofcourse…although, tum jaanti ho main kitna focused hoon….”

I wish I could get his serious face in print for u…and the thoughtfulness in his eyes…

I see a lot of myself in him at times…I don’t know if that’s good or bad…

I don’t want him to worry so much about the good of others…..he should just be happy with himself.

He tells me that is what he is gunning for….and the way to that is thru nimbu paani…haha…well, good for him…

Last I heard, my naani…his badi naani was explaining to him how he could open a company for himself, the coke way and sell nimbu paani.

And when his dad took great offence to the fact that he was having Nimbooz at 10 in the night, he very sweetly informed him

“Just checking out the competition dad”

Badi Naani pleased she had averted the disaster of the century, Dad happy his sonny boy was getting into general management so early…..

Hahhaha….the security we derive from the big and organized…complete lack of entrepreneurship I say…

Go baby.. open ur nimbu paani stall…if that is what makes u happy…

What Are U Going To B When U Grow Up Dad ??

2008-11-24T03:50:00.000-08:00

I had sort of got waylaid by a momentous writer’s bloc..think I’m over it now.

There has been lots happening on the Ishu-Mommy front. But, todays anecdote is about Ishu and Daddu.

Winter is here and, with it, has brought the usual coughs and colds. Ishu has been unwell for the last few days.

M, jumped on the opportunity and promptly took the day off to be with him.
This, while the hard nosed career mom took off for office in her ambitious avataar.
So, when this hard nosed career mom reached office, she had given herself enough guilt pills to finish of all do or die mails (hehe) in straight 60 mins.
By 11.30 am she set off for home, to give the ill son (oh baby) and the jubiliant dad (hmmphh) the surprise of their lives.
This is what she found….both of them still under the morning covers…with no intent of getting up and about.

And, this….

“Ishu what do u want to be when you grow up?”

“Daddddddddu, I am grown up”

“Haaaaaan beta, when you grow upto work..what do you want to do?”

I know, left to his devices, Ishu would have wanted to say Goku of DragonballZ fame.

However, since it was daddy who was asking, he made an attempt to think seriously about it..basically, about what M would love to hear from his most amazing son and, came up with….”daddu main subway ka…………”

“Haan beta bolo kya..subway ka CEO, Dell ka CEO, Pepsi ka CEO..CEO banogey Ishu, CEO?”

I was having a difficult time not reacting to such aggressive ambition and that too, vicarious in intent. M and I have very different parenting styles and had I not been in hiding, I can promise you this conversation would have died a very high decibel end.

Unfortunately, I was in hiding. Hoping that my tender hearted son would not get thwarted by such a naked display of histronics by his much emulated dad. Hmmmmph!

But, what do they say about my son being a mirror of me…

Ishu looked his father in the eye….smiled a wicked twinkle and said…”CEO…nah Dad..Customer..subway ka customer..”

Times are going to be very interesting indeed.

Promise

2008-09-02T03:13:00.000-07:00

I haven't written for so long....

Ishu has his own blog now..can u believe it!!!

I'm really struggling for time right now...will come for the stories soon...

Promise.

I'm Back

2008-07-07T22:05:00.000-07:00

Ishu is back. All bundle of energy, wicked smiles and a to die for glint in the eyes…

My dad seems to have done a great job of teaching him the full year’s syllabus in flat 2 months…takes a load of my mind actually…now I can concentrate on just having fun with him.

And, under the maternally abled guidance of my mom, he has put on a few more baby pounds….looks absolutely adorable…the first time he came back from a 2 month vacation afew years back and we saw what my Mom had created, we got really psyched. But over the years, we’ve seen that the pounds go off in 15 days without nani’s love and care. So I’m just enjoying a more cuddly bundle right now.

Apart from that, hes fast acquiring an intelligent wit and of course his mom’s legendary charm (hehehe..what do I do, no one complements me..I make do with myself).

Hes also giving me lines like “its my life, I like it, I want to do it this way”…phew tough 15 yrs ahead I guess…..

I can see M trying to reinvent himself, trying to keep pace with the demands of a fast growing alternate male influence in the family.

I’m just doing what I do best….loving and growing with Ishu at any pace he chooses to set….

The Case Of The Mirror Image

2008-06-25T03:01:00.000-07:00

“Mom”

“Hmmm”

“What are we gonna do once I arrive at the station?”

“Go home baby..Why? What do u want to do?”

“Mom…can we go to delhi wala Mcdonalds….I haven’t been to one for 2 months now…pls…just one happy meal?”

“Baby, it’ll be 8 am in the morning..”

“Pls pls pls mom”

“Oky cool… we’ll get u a happy meal..”

“And, mom. Then?”

“Then what betu? We’ll go home, chill out, and have fun”

“No-no for lunch, we’ll go to Mainland China mom..”

“Hain?”

“Arre mom, nanu loves Chinese…”

“Ok baba, Mainland China it is..”

“And mom, we’ll go to landmark after that…u buy me a toy and, I promise I’ll keep it under 500 bucks…and, then we come home and u know nanu loves pizza…and unko begusarai mein nahin milta na..so we’ll order pizza and have fun.”

And, just as I’m sort of trying to figure out what the hell, he very innocently puts the icing on the cake (forgive me for the food phrasing…I can’t help it),

“And mom, then u can take me to myyyyyy favourite place Nanking for dinner…”

My dad, his nanu, who was on the 3rd line listening in to our conversation got his ticket cancelled and, called to ask me whether I’ve registered Ishu in some boarding school for the future or not…

A New Toy

2008-06-24T04:09:00.000-07:00

Ishu has learnt smsing…theres one part of me that gets really psyched with the speed at which he is learning new things and, another part of me that exults every morning as I wake up to one of his broken smses...

Mom call
Mom ur mom is bad mom.not giving me chocolates
Mom commando is giving u mitthu
Mom how is dad
Mom call when Dad in office....hahahaaaaa

…..

Am gonna start him on blogging soon….

The MBA Kid & I

2008-05-14T23:47:00.000-07:00

Ishu has gone to his grandparents for his summer vacations.

He loves it there for two reasons (I quote verbatim)

“Momma full freedom hai yahaan..koi kuch nahin rokta and, I don’t have to go to a park to play..the park is in my house only.
And, theres Mirchi and Commando (two very mad and completely over the top melodramatic Alsatians). And, nani kitni pyaari hai and, I can box Nanu. Baba dadi bhi toh bilkul paas hain and, baba tells me the most amazing stories and dadi is so good with maggi………

Two reasons you said?? Hmmmmph

Nevertheless, he calls me every half an hour to ask me what I’m doing, whether I’m feeling well, is daddy taking good care of me, etc, etc.

In one such call yesterday, he enlightened me,

“Momma,”

“Haan baby…”

“Kya kar rahi ho?Momma parcel bhej di?”

“Parcel? Kaun sa parcel?”

“Arre, I told u na, slip trick game” (or I think thats what he said)

“Whats that betu?”

“Tumko nahin samjh mein aayega momma..u just go to landmark and pick it up”

Hmmmmm OK

“Par momma, I’m telling u woh chahe kitna bhi bada ho I’m buying it…”

First round of alarm bells go off in my head

“How big is it Ishu?”

“Mom, we’ll set it up in dad’s den..and, I don’t care if he screams about it..”

Oh yeah!!! Just about this time I can hear my mom really egging him on in the background.

“Momma, look at it this way…

mera beta jab sheesha tod dega cricket khelkar
aur
main usko boluunga betu yeh kya kiya tumne
aur
woh mujhe bolega dad, bas cricket heen toh khela hai, sheesha gir gaya, aapne kabhi seesha nahin toda kya
aur
main bolunga nahin betu maine nahin toda, mere dad ne mujhe nahin khelne diya
toh
uske baba ko, yaani mere dad ko kitna bura lagega….

Pin drop silence.
My mom lost her voice.
I couldn’t believe my years.
This chotu kid, all of 7 yrs, traversed the future, made it relevant to the past and used it so strategically to drive in the present.

You know what they say about a kid getting affected by what his mommy experiences when shes carrying him…
I think it works..hes bloody come out armed with an MBA man….

And as I put down th receiver I could hear him saying

“momma I know u’ll put this up on ur blog…u always go silent when I say something u want to put up there
Par mommy, hindi mein likhna saara, English mein feel nahin aayega…”

HOLY SHIT !

Mom, I Won Gold

2008-04-09T05:04:00.000-07:00

March always reminds me of exams religiously taken and report cards best forgotten…

So, when this time, Ishu, kept reminding me of his progress card I became slightly angst ridden..seven is no age for a kid to fret about such things.

Hand to my heart I can say that the subject of studies rarely comes up in our conversations (for which I get a lot of flak..ahem).

Anyways, bearing this context and my son’s queries in mind I put my mind to being a concerned mom.

Every evening I sat down and explained to him why he should not take all this seriously.
He kept telling me he wasn’t.
He looked like he wasn’t.
But, I was in no mood to take chances, so the drilling continued.

As we settled down at a friend’s place for an evening of calm fun, Ishu in a very “by the way types” said

“Mom I got a gold medal today..”

I nearly erupted out of the nice cozy sofa I had sunk into just minutes back….”what…u got a gold medal….ishu god why didn’t u tell me betu…..?”

I completely undid all my sermons of the last week…my pressured stoicism giving way …..Completely.

By then, M had realized that this was big….we looked at each other…just through eye talk I communicated…stay out of this..we don’t want ur ambition scarring him for life…he looked at me exasperated as if saying get a grip woman…..this is u hyperventilating..hmmmph

In the meantime Ishu had not moved from his place….not even when 4 pairs of eyes heaped such joyful blessings on him…

“Betu, u got a gold medal…..u never told us …where is it?”

No change in tone, he replied “Hanging on the I Can Do It Tree”

“I Can Do It Tree, wheres that”

“In my classroom”

“Ur maam hung ur gold medal on the I Can Do It Tree in the classroom?”

“Ya”

“What if someone steals it?”

“Momma why would someone steal my medal??? Anyways, she’ll make one again…”

“Hain ?”

“Momma ….its a paper gold medal…..she hung it there…whats wrong with u?”

Ohhhhhhhhh…..all four adults looked logic in the eye…and then, tried to lose themselves to the regular comfort of “calm fun” …….

Style Bhai Santa

2008-01-23T05:14:00.000-08:00

This is an out of season post but I guess when Ishu reads it in a year or two the timing would be irrelevant.
This happened sometime around Christmas. Ishu came back from school all but popping excitement…

Momma aaj mera interview hua…

I thought another one of those wonderfully innovative scripts coming up.

He looked at me with angst ridden eyes “ sache mein yaar”

“So who took ur interview?”

“BBC”

“Hain? BBC?”

His eyes twinkled like a beyblade in motion… (God I’m going nuts, man..beyblade…gimme a break)

“Momma, Ma’am called me and asked me to answer this aadmi’s questions...”

“Ishu, I’ve told u, either speak in English or Hindi. Don’t make khichdi betu”

“haha..u just did mommy”

After glaring at him for a full 2 seconds, “OK, so tell me what happened”

“That guy asked me – whats ur Christmas wish”

“Oh that..so you knew what to say right..I mean, you gave me a full thesis on this yesterday”

“Ya mom but I didn’t say that”

“So”

“I said I wanted to wish something for Santa…I wanted to wish a new purple colour robe for him because his red one must be really dirty and he must be bored with it
And, a purple bag to go with the robe too….for style momma…Santa should be happy too, right?”

My Wish to Santa

2007-12-11T20:08:00.000-08:00

Let me translate it for easy understanding

My Wish to Santa

I want a remote control aeroplane and a remote control car and a remote control dinosaur and a remote control Gohan and the new car should be ferrari new model and the aroplane should be fast and the dinosaur should be dangerous and I want a speed rasbik with remote and 8 Ben 10 toys and a remote control monster track and a cricket set and a remote contol helicopter and the Ben 10 toys should be with machines and 8 Ben 10 watches AND if u cannot give me all the things then give me 1 Ben Ten watch and Mom & Dad don't feel bad.

All rendered with not one spelling in place (read the original version for best feel :)) and with immense earnestness and heartwarming baby eyes

The Flowering of the UnderDog

2007-11-26T01:55:00.000-08:00

Just because I haven’t been writing doesn’t mean the stories haven’t been pouring in..

The good news is that Ishu has his own group of friends now in the complex and so all my fears of him being a loner and the works have been unfounded.

At the whistle of 4, he’s out of the building and at 7, I get frantic calls from a bumbling santu about Ishu not ready to come home.

Ishu asked me long back why it was scary for me to see him as a loner… why he had to make friends…why he had to be heard in class????

I remember I explained to him, “u’re bright, u’re smart..whats the harm in showing it?”

“momma if I’m bright and I’m smart, why do I have to show it..”

Some days back, I went to his PTA meet and was very surprised when his Ma’am told me that he’s the entertainer of the class..brings a lot of overt positivism to tasks and aggressively backs the underdog with all his might…he’s also the most obedient. To repeat her words, “it would be good if he wasn’t so obedient all the time…although for a teacher hes an absolute delight”.

I went back home, a little lost in thought. I was feeling guilty and confused. I hoped like hell I hadn’t forced Ishu to behave in a manner he was not akin to, just to make me happy.

As I stepped out of the lift, I could see Ishku jumping up and down like a rabbit “momma kya boli ma’am??

I smiled to take the confusion off my face and said “sab bahut badhiya betu”

He looked at me, smiled “who boli main class ka joker hoon?”

“How come u never told me Ishu”

“Momma u’re bright and u’re smart..why didn’t u see it…tumhare jaisa heen toh hoon sab bolte hain”

Days have gone by…the conversation still haunts me when I’m alone……

I hope the expectations of living upto something forsakes him.

As parents, we will go through weak emotions, I hope he sees himself as the underdog then and, fights us with all his might.

The Marathon Runner & Karwa Chauth

2007-11-05T04:37:00.000-08:00

In this age of media abandonment, I’m finding it increasingly difficult to explain so many things to Ishu.

On days when I land up home straight from work, I have a good 3 hours before mukul turns up from office.
On such a day, last week, I was sprawled out on my arm chair and my son was sitting next to me doing his home work…and in usual fashion I had the TV on. Just catching up on what India was hooked on to.

India apparently, was hooked on to Karwa Chauth.

Now, for the uninitiated, that's a festival married women (and some unmarried ones) keep for their husbands. It's a day long fast marked with festivities at the end of the day when the husband gets his day under the moon and the woman all but falls on his feet. Naaah..i guess I’m just being cynical..its quite a picture perfect way to establish age old equations of love, submission and of course, power.

Ishu raised his head rather disinterestedly from his workbook and looked at me rather interestedly.

“Momma, what is karwa chauth”

“kuch nahin baby’

“Arre kuch nahin kaise…”

He went back to his workbook, evidently, extremely dissatisfied with my answer.

Anyone who knows me really well also knows my hidden fascination for jumping in full volley into situations I could prudently have stayed clear off.

But na, me being me, I jumped on to the proverbial axe.

“ishu karwa chauth is something wives do for their husbands…”

“why?”

Now thinking that it would be really difficult to get into a more expansive discourse on religion and societal obligations, I took the easy way out “bebu because they love their husbands na”

“Momma, tum toh daddy ke liye nahin ki, u don’t love him?”

As I sat there trying to construct an appropriate reply that would not seem too complex to a 6 yr old, he qualified “but u don’t believe in this na momma…..u’ve only told me I should only do things I believe in”

It took me a moment to realize that in an adult world we need logic to safeguard our answers, in a kid’s world why would they question something as natural and common sensical as “I don’t believe in it”.

He went back to his maths and I tried sitting through the vast range of zoom in zoom out shots on the soap being aired

5 mins into the silence, he giggled.

“ishku,,,whats wrong?”

“tum hansogi nahin na?”

Now, I was interested…I put on my most concerned, serious mommy face..”nahin ishu..u know u can tell me anything..”

“momma, aaj mere class mein sab girls mehendi laga ke aayee thi”

“haaaannn so?”

“they had done karwa chauth momma for US”…the last rendered with round with wonder eyes and, the most wicked swoosh smile I had ever seen.

He seems to be growing at a pace I seem to be falling short of.

Maybe I don’t want to give in to that pace.

I guess theres no way out.

Either I run with him or, he runs me out....

Demon Fighting

2007-10-25T04:52:00.000-07:00

Its been a tough 20 days with my multi tasking abilities being questioned at every dramatic turn.
Ishu’s tournament finally took off.
We turned up at the first game, full battalion…mommy, daddy, life saver santu and, whiz driver-handyman murtu to cheer our hero.

The day was a revelation to me.
I speak only for myself when I say that I went through a host of emotional experiences that I just could not cope with.
That's only happened to me twice in life before and, both were situations I had somehow forseen.

This time I was hit. And, I was blind.

Every team had 15 players and naturally only 11 could be on the field. Ishu sat out.

Not because he could not play but because, I saw the worst of politics being played out on that field that day.

Because as parents, we made the mistake of thinking that when our kid goes to school, he actually goes through it on his merit and inclination; and, is not dependant on our penchant for active gameplay.
It had worked for us and we saw no reason to question it.. Ishu took up cricket and tabla without our involvement.
One beautiful day, we got a call from his school saying he had immense talent in cricket and he was being picked up to play a school cricket tournament.
He was casual about it. Couldn’t be fussed as he had been playing cricket since he started walking.
Mukul was happy and, I was, in true motherly fashion, ecstatic.

On the first day, I sat behind my son and saw him struggle with new demons.
There were three others with him. All four of them reacting to similar angst in their own way.

None of the 15 kids had really been taken through the competitive format of the game. Their practice sessions had all of them batting, fielding, bowling and catching.
The real match was being played differently.
The ones, who were in, were learning on the job; the others, outside, were just learning to cope.

It was easier for the other parents who had their kids sitting out as those babies took recourse to tears and things became predictable.

Ishu just sat there, his eyes burning the field and my heart.
He completely comes from the school “mard ko dard nahin hota” and any unlearning I have attempted to do in the past on that score has always failed.

I let him be.

I had never encountered anything so heart breaking in my life.
His expression killed any faith I had ever had in any goodness.
I was fighting my own demons.

I know it may seem like over reaction on my part and, as mukul tells me this is just the beginning. Tomorrow he will have to face bigger and bitter demons.
It still doesn’t make it right.

I have questioned my intentions. Would I have reacted as strongly if my son had been playing and not sitting out? Honestly, not as strongly because the focus would have been elsewhere. But, that wouldn’t have made it right, would it?

We won the game and, 11 kids did the huddle in the field.
3 others cried and Ishu tried to bluff his way through the presentation ceremony by congratulating everyone.

I tried to calm myself and went and spoke to the In Charge.
I don’t think the fact that they had made a criminal mistake by not counseling the kids on the overall method of the game sunk through.
The school principal was there and the Sports In Charge was looking good.
There were afew kids upset but that's the game.
Big Deal.

After 2 hours of intensive counseling, Ishu spoke. He said, “momma mujhe ek baar bat karne toh deta, main score ko aur badha deta, fielding se ek run save kar deta”.

I went back to office. He went back home.

While I ruined every bit of work that I tried to do till evening, he went back and practiced.

While I thought myself to death, cried a thousand tears, he came back in the evening to receive me; his smile back where it belonged. In his twinkling eyes.

He looked at me, giggled “Momma its ok..its so funny na..everytime u told me beta khoob ghuma kar maarna…beta mast hokar maarna..aur mera toh chance heen nahi aaya…main maarta kya….ab smile na momma..main hurt nahin hoon”.

That single split moment, I will not lie, I felt like burning everyone who had put that wisdom in him so early in life, to hell.

They had fucking no right to make my baby grow up overnight.

After a full 8 hr day of practice in the blazing sun, yesterday, I came back home with an over the top excited bundle of energy, “momma kal 2nd match hai..aur agar batting nahin mila toh kya..fielding toh milega..”

Today they won their second match.
Ishu did not bat though the In Charge kept singing praises of how good he was with the bat and how pure his shots were.
They were eight down. He was still not called into bat.

I prayed to God like I had never prayed before.
Just let him field.
4 kids sat out for the nine overs out of the 10 over match.
The same kids who sat out the first day.
No rotation.
No understanding of a child’s psyche.

Three out the four again lost it after the first two overs. Just before the match they had been promised they would be brought in after the second over.
The only girl in the four, took matters into her own hand (u can bet on proactive demonstration from a girl).
She tried instigating Ishu into action but my boy is not prone to feminine wiles.
Or so I thought.

As she walked in into the field, she was sent out.
Nothing works like a damsel in distress to stir up a “mard ko dard nahin hota” nearly seven year old…

Check them out …my son forgot that he hadn’t batted…he forgot that he had sat out for most of the second match too…he just saw this girl in tears and explained to her in full detail on how they were all a team and it didn’t matter who was playing…they were all winning.

Life has a way of mixing the bitter with the sweet and, I just didn’t want to end this post on a bitter note.

Ishu has recovered, learnt and taught in a span of two days.

I have not been so fortunate.

I hate the world. I feel like setting fire to it.

They had fucking no right to make my baby grow up overnight.

The Making Of My Star

2007-10-24T00:25:00.000-07:00

Just don't have the time to write now guys but, take a look

http://www.facebook.com/album.php?aid=15847&l=806f0&id=549702221

Promise to give you all the gossip soon...

A Lefty Opener...WOW

2007-10-15T23:59:00.000-07:00

Ishu’s been chosen to play for the school team for the Kanwal Shah Cricket Tournament.

And, I have been floating on thin air since I heard….reacting exactly like Yuvraaj’s mother possibly would have when she saw him slaying the enemy with rapier sharp six sixes.

See I’m even writing like a soap queen.

For me, he has arrived…..now, I just have to ensure he gets the best training and, I’m already dreaming of which position hes going to play for when he plays for the Indian team.

The fact that hes opening the game for the tournament and oh, dear God, thank you thank you for making him a leftie, has added to the mystique.

As you can see, I have just about committed myself to every Mommy stereotype that exists.

And with such pride, in his future achievements, we took him for his first Sat practice session that the school was conducting at the unholy hour of 7 in the morning.

The whole family was up and about at 5.30 and we nearly took Santlal (who is our lifeline) with us also…after all, so what if he was just my Man Friday….hes the one whos helped us bring Ishu up and therefore, has every right to be party to the glory….

This frenzy, by the way, was just for a practice session.

We reached my old school and nostalgia hit.

Ah, my son was going to play on the same ground where I had sat with friends and dreamt big life plans.
It couldn’t get bigger and better.

The practice session started and, Ishu was not the one opening. I went to his Maam and asked her what was happening.
This is what she had to say – “maam he doesn’t need it…Prateek and Suryan are good batsmen…the tournament is only 10 days away so we are making the ones who are weak, practice”

Aha…so he was that good was he…..Mukul looked at me in exasperation as if saying…”chill before u burst a vein”

And, who the hell was this Prateek??? I ran a piercing look at the parents on the sideline…must be that woman in white…she seemed confident and had a monalisa smile alright…

While I had been indulging in such strategic day dreaming, Mukul had been watching Ishu in action. And, he was not looking happy.

Ishu was fielding….ooops he was supposed to be fielding…well, you can’t expect a 6 yr old to take a difficult catch….and so what if he was rubbing his eyes like there was no tomorrow…this was no time to get kids up on a weekend…no wonder they looked half asleep.

By then Mukul had already made a 5 yr fielding and catching practice plan for Ishu….now, Mukul is as theoretically focussed in his approach to things as I am, unfocussed…

After 15 mins of mumbling to himself about Ishu not getting enough nutrition, and him being exactly like me in the field and not moving his sweet cute ass…and, listening to me clap and scream…”well done ishu…well tried” even when the ball went rolling to the next fielder, he lost it.
You will observe that all his insights rolled back to me not doing the necessary.

I removed myself from his scenery and went and stood next to Prateek’s mommy, hoping to bond at the sachin’s mom meeting ganguly’s mom level…and then, I figured out she was not prateek’s mom but the guy standing on the right was his dad.

All of a sudden, Ishu was called into bat….and wow, did he bat….for all of 5 balls…
NoNo he was not given out…he played 3 good shots also..they just decided he didn’t need the batting practice….he needed to field more…ahem

As Prateek walked in to take batting stance, I could see he seemed very confident…and then he started knocking the ball.

Mukul, by then, had drifted back next to me…and was openly going into delight galore on Prateek’s batting…why are all dads like this…???

So I did what Mommy’s do best..
I decided to call the enemy’s bluff…
I went and stood behind Prateek’s dad and eves dropped on his conversation with another parent.

I figured out that he had been playing for this tournament since he was in nursery and, had been the player of the tournament for 2 consecutive years now…haah…cheater…no wonder he seemed confident…

I ran back with my news to Mukul and gave him one lecture on how Prateek’s dad had been coaching him for the last 3 yrs, giving him time…ooh I laid the guilt on thick..

Don’t think it made much of a difference to someone whos known me for nearly 20 yrs now…he called my bluff…”ishu still can’t run, he has no focus when hes on the field and, hes average. But, he’ll change.”

Since that day Mukul has been getting up at 6 everyday to practice with Ishu before he goes to school…
he has even made a makeshift team with afew guys in the colony for weekend playing and, he refuses to believe that Ishu is not a bowler (his coach said that)…

oh, did I tell u that hes rubbished the coach’s acumen..how predictable is that!!

And, he expects me to believe that he doesn’t fit every daddy stereotype….

I just want to tell him, “chill, before u burst a vein…”

Musrat & Momma

2007-10-03T02:02:00.000-07:00

I finally managed to find some time for myself and my laptop on a very socially busy holiday….so cuddled up on the bed hoping to do some quality surfing on Freud & Jung’s Split of 1912…u can well imagine how intellectually stimulated I was and raring to explore.

I had just finished a book called “The Interpretation of Murder” which was to some extent about these two gentlemen and, I was intrigued. I plonked myself on the bed and started my search. It was some 5.30 in the afternoon and I knew it would not take M even 10 mins to fall asleep. Ishu would watch cartoons and for once, I was happy about it.

I had my time.

As I started surfing, my son decided he had had enough of cartoons (I kid u not!) and he wanted to surf the net with me.
Ishu – momma what are you reading about?
I replied in a very offhand sort of way, completely preoccupied with Jung….”Ishu, u won’t understand baby….its for grown ups”, and then, as if that insult wasn’t enough, I went on to add injury…”its about psycho-analysis”
He looked at me in a very knowing way and said “tum blog kar rahi ho aur mujhe bol rahi ho kuch analysis kar rahi ho, taaki main bade word se confuse ho jaaoon”

“Mom, can I paint?”

By then, I could see restlessness on the bed, on the other side. And, this stupidest game of “gripper” starting between M & Ishu. The game is as simple as it is stupid….they make grippers out of their fingers and then tickle each other into defeat….Can you believe it?

Needless to say, gone was the happy silence of the last 10 minutes……I could hear mad-hatter giggles and giggle induced coughing which I knew, would make them both reach for their asthalin puffs….so, I screamed…

The giggles gave way to secret smiles and winks and whispers of “ooooooooohhhh momma’s angry….ooooohhh”

I resumed my search knowing the silence as illusionary (it always is, isn’t it). After a few minutes, I asked them “do u guys want to hear my latest post…its nice?”

I saw M struggling to assume an enthusiastic expression. Ishu was, however so beautifully welcoming.

So I started reading my current post and translating quite a bit of it so that ishu could understand.
Ishu kept nodding every two seconds and urging me on with “ok ok”.
All this with an extremely understanding indulgent parent smile.
He kept staring at Mukul, willing him to understand how critical, sharing my space with them was.

I don’t know if u guys have read my latest post called Romancing Myself on my other blog but, to cut a long story short, theres a paragraph which sums up my relationship with Nusrat Fateh Ali Khan in it.

As I read on, I could see Ishu finally giving up playing the parent, jumping on to M and whispering madly…”daddu…musrat flows in momma’s blood??? yeh kaise hua?”

The last thing I saw, was M falling off the bed, in hysterics.

My Kid & His Kids

2007-09-24T22:14:00.001-07:00

I've been ill for nearly a week now. Ishu's also been keeping me company since yesterday so we get to chum out a lot. His new obsession is a spanking new PSP which hes been trying to unravel...

Yesterday, I was lying next to him with my eyes shut, heavily under the influence of life taking antibiotics and I heard this conversation....

"yaar main phir se last aaya...momma tum pareshaan mat ho...when I have a kid and he becomes 12yrs old, I'll give him this PSP and say beta tumhara baap 6 yrs mein heen iska baap ban gaya tha"

Now I've been ill with the most horrible throat infection and I have coughed so much the last 4 days that my ribs, abdomen, my chest, by god, even my lungs are bruised..so u can imagine my anguish in the line of such beautiful banter....i tried not to laugh, failed miserably and then, cried because I hurt so much....

In his most unique manner my son took one look at my pained expression, and went on to sum it all up and, assumed I had tears in my eyes coz I didn't want to see him having a kid.

He very kindly assured me, "momma tum bhi na...arrey i have to get married...abhi thode heen kar raha hun...par karna toh padega heen...will have to have kids...they'll look after u momma when u're old...i'll cook rotis for u....."

Now fairly inquisitive, I, made an attempt to bring back the missing wife in action into the story...:aur betu tumhari biwi? woh kuch nahi karegi?"

"Momma woh school jaayegi na.....uski kya zarurat hai...we just wanted the kids na"

I didn't dare ask what we "just" needed the kids for......

The Fanari & The Limoooooozine

2007-09-13T23:27:00.000-07:00

Its been less than a week since Ishu started taking the bus to school. And, he already has a hundred stories to tell.

I’ll try and make everything I post in this space a replica of the original interaction so that when Ishu adds on years and wants to look at shedding some, he can depend on his mom…

Me: (one of those evenings when I get home in time for more than a quick chat with my son) How was ur day baby?
Ishu: (usual reply, not realizing that I have more than two hrs to spare just chit chatting and feeling happy about it) ok
Me (slightly miffed now): whats ok baby? Tell me in detail na…whats happening on the bus..have u made any friends?

He looks at me with that expression on his face which says I’m tired of answering this one mom…no I have not made any friends..and, I’m not gonna try. Period.
But I being the sensitive mommy I am go on: Betu have you tried making friends? If you don’t ask them their names, introduce urself..it won’t work..
He interrupts me midway, glares at me in a very “my god, save this woman” kind of a way and says: Mommy, no I have not made friends on the bus…I already have them.

OK. OK.

I stammer to a halt, adjust my facial muscles to resemble a euphoric expression. Later, I figure, its called dumb mommy expression.

So who are these guys baby? (As if hes a 16 yr old warranting interrogation)

Ryan, Nakul and I don’t know the 3rd guy’s name

All this, while hes attempting to redefine the solar system on a piece of paper…mom why can’t we live on Mars…and then in the same breath…mera favourite colour ka hai..red..

Now I’m this major, super human, multi tasker…but right now, I’m on a mission…I need to figure out if hes happy on the bus…so go to hell, Mars..

Shit I shouldn’t swear on this blog, rt?

All of a sudden my very calm son turns on me and passes judgement…”how come u and dad don’t tell me anything…”

‘What haven’t we told u baby?’ (Needless to say I’m terrified…hes not supposed to know about the bird and bees at 6 , is he?”

“About fanari, limooooozine, black crystal”

Hain?
I look stupefied.

“My friend’s dad has a fanari and a limoooozine..”

By then I’ve figured out we’re talking about cars…

OK..take a few deep breaths…do not smile….he’ll get hurt..as it is, hes angry because hes been caught unawares by his friends…OK…OK

And, then, I fall off the chair laughing….

He looks at me bewildered and then goes back to his solar system searching….mommy in hysterics is normal..

“Betu, its Ferrari and not fanari and limousine….and I’m sure your friend was lying”

That has to be the stupidest mommy comment to make…friends are never liars….NEVER.

“No mama, Ryan said the limooooozine has a button and if you press it a table opens and, hes had a drink there”

Oky this Ryan fellow has naturally been watching movies he shouldn’t be watching..

Trying not to choke on my reply, I comment, very condescendingly, “What drink? Fanta?”

“No mom, that's a cold drink…hes had a DRINK..wahi kuch Bacardi shakardi….”

Oh God, forgive me for my sins of bringing up this boy in the most normal fashion…forgive our generation for living such a life..

“And, momma, if u press another button, gaadi mein golf course khul jaata hai…”

Now this Ryan fellow definitely had a chance as a scriptwriter…by now I’m enjoying myself…

“But betu, how did this guy’s dad get the limoooooozine…you can’t buy it in India”

Ohoooo…that expression again….mom u’re my life but u’re so dumb at times.

“He got it in a garbage plane….”

Hahahahahah…I swear to God I’m gonna break my beloved eucalyptus wood armchair which has borne my substantial weight for more than 8 years, today, laughing….

“Betu, maybe that's a cargo plane”

“haan…wahi…ryan ne toh garbage plane bola…”

As he gets back to determining whether the black hole has eaten up Pluto or not, I can read from his expression that “ryan ka magic chalega kya” is waning..

Loha garam hai…and I strike…

“So if his dad has a fanari and a limoooozine, why does he travel by the school bus?”

Without raising his head, my very logical son tells me, “petrol ka paisa nahin hai”

“And, you guys can play in the car then, I say…playground toh hoga?”

“No Momma, Ryan said its small for that..”

After two mins, I can see my son’s figured out my trail of thought…”momma if theres a golf course in the car…then how come its too small for us to play inside it?”

Knowing when not to push my point to closure….I retread back to “understanding mommy”…”ask him baby, you should not jump to conclusions…after all hes ur friend”

This is the Den

2007-09-13T03:48:00.000-07:00

Coming Soon.....this weekend !!