aajaaa

She is getting bigger and bigger every single day... It is such a lovely transition from being a baby to toddling her way on shaky legs...

Last night she threw her arms out and said aajaa... I fell in love with her... Oh ..this is love! being a parent is so so so fulfilling, so enriching..

(it is also tiring and maddening at times.. (read many a times ;) )

love u baby...

mum

Sweet Love

The most precious moment of my life...

Pari is almost about to sleep. I am lying beside her. She opens her eyes, I pretend to sleep. She throws her arms around me, nestles near my bosom and falls asleep.

Thank you my child for loving me. For making me feel so so so special.

Love you darling,

Mommy

Vacant chair

Years ago I wrote a story about vacant chair... It was about a sleeping babe, a vacant chair and a waiting lover...

Today there is a vacant chair in my room. My babe is asleep just as I had written in my story... There is Pari sleeping... Ditto.

And in my story my beloved was away... And well he is..

My story looks so real today... I wish I knew Linus then... I wish I loved him then... I wish I met him earlier... I wish ...

Zindagi...

Kitni badal jaati hai zindagi..

kal wakta kuch aur tha...aaj kuch aur hain.

Kal koi aur hee shayad thee main, aaj koi aur hoon

Tabhi kal kuch aur khayal thein...aaj kuch aur hain..

Kal tum na thein.... aaj tum ho... tumhare bina yeh raat tanha tanha hain..

Kal tak hum shayar na thein...

Par kal raha kahan hai....yaadein dhoomil ho jaati hai

Kuch kisse agar tum suna bhi do, toh lagega woh main nahi koi aur hee thee..

Shayad... esiliye aaj fir khood ko dhoondne lagi hoon...

Honeymoon again

Want a honeymoon again,
Want to lose myself in the gurgling ocean
Want to tickle myself with your thoughts
Want to see you in my dreams
Want to wrap you in invisible hugs
Want to get mushy
Want to hold hands and feel shy
Want to run away and get married...

Will you, darling?

(sorry for this late night public discourse.... Love ya Linus)

No mails...

Long long time ago, there was a mailbox that received interesting mails. Long mail, short mail but mails nonetheless. The owner of the mailbox would come shake the box and check its content every now and then. Once she had sent a mail, she would eagerly await its reply . Shuffling the box again and again (read refreshing her browser ;) ) she would wish the reply to finally arrive.

There were times when she would have to wait for a week or so before a quirky mail came. Most of the times, it would lift her spirits. It was fun. To write and to receive. She always loved this kind of communication. When she was in school, she made a few pen pals. One of her pen friend mentioned CDs in a letter, our dear writer was clueless as to what a capital C and a capital D together meant. Ah..the electronic age was yet to tap on the doors of the lovely valley. Till then it was lovey dovey valentine messages and poems that friends queued up to be written on their behalves. All the messages began with a To, you and ended with from me. This was an excellent form of anonymity. And our dear writer wondered if a career in Archies or Hallmark was in offing :P

Hand written letters gave way to emails. Her fingers were dexterous and not at all blind. They keyed (no more penning) expressive notes and clicked on the SEND button. A far away friend would log in and read these notes. Probably smile at her innocence and archive the mail for later reading and answering.

"My mailbox is experiencing a drought... I know why...because I send no mails anymore... " The writer had sighed recently. "I wish I had a mail", was her parting shot, before we both moved away to pick our coffee mugs and log into our respective FBs.

More on FB laterz...

May be you might like to send a mail to someone you haven't for a long time... For the surprise factor... May be I will send a few tonight!

Man, am I not happy!

Wow... I never knew comments would make my day. Probably it is the only kick to the writers or rather blog- writers (i like it better than blogger!!). How much we thrive on it.... this thing called feedback!

I read few posts that I had put up ages again. 2007, 2008 ... and comments on those articles that appeared much later...so much later that I had stopped visiting my own blog. You know when I make a post, I come back again and again hoping there is a comment. That somebody passed by, read, and smiled. That somebody thought ... wow, this was nice. I know I can write. I can. Oh, yes I can. But it helps when you read! :)

I want to be a writer. I perhaps forgot this. Now I know it again. Vid is born to write. There has to be a very readable piece. What will it be? Collection of short stories? Probably. I don't think I can yet write a novel! What will I write about? I tend to rely on my own experiences. Once a guy I knew had said- vid have a great life...something that could be made into a movie... ! Well, I could write a book!!!

So, how would it begin. Childhood memories... the school I went to ... the shabby toilets in the school... eeeks... My wish to change my school. Get into a better, respectable school.

Well... that sounds boring... where do we get from schooling... College! No college romance, dude!!

I could rather write about people... interesting people that I have met. Some at the airport, some on trains..some in family. People that I fell in love with , teachers that I looked upon , friends that were never friends, friends who became family, and family that never was a family.

Should I write about how I have come to love Linus. How it started and how it turned out to be. Oh, well no mush! :P

I could may be write about a girl who loved comments. Who loved to receive answers or rather long answers to her letters and subsequently emails.

I love it that M loves books. Its like I am this little baby and I have these wonderful books and the wonderful story teller. My story teller was my sister. She had wonderful stories for me. I wish I can give M a great story time. Stories for kids? Another JK Rowling in making!!!

Happy Commenting!

Finding my feet

It takes a while, but bit by bit we will find our feet!

Wow! Looks like Vid's first quote! Bravo...


M is learning to put one foot ahead and bring on the other one next. I am wondering what should I write today. We are both trying to find our feet. I have an email from a company that wants to sample my writing. 3 latest pieces, they are asking for. Since, I am not really keen on passing on my work that is more than 5 years old, I thought why not begin to write. And I have a blog. And I have few readers. And a follower: Susant ;). And annoy_nemous Annie :P (caught u, dint I).

Well well well... if I write a book... and I intend to... I will thank dad for dreaming it up for me... I am his JK Rowling, I will also thank Annie for being so interested in pushing me to write whenever she finds time to connect with me and of course LinuS for being who he is and letting me be who I am. It is an altogether different thing that I have changed quite a bit. Do people change really? I think I have matured in such a lovely manner- Mum of M, cooking albeit sometimes for LinuS and being content (huh?). This is going to be tested when I am with my siblings... Will we still fight? What do you think? :D

In some way I have made my life a doll's house. Doll's House is an intriguing play that I read few years ago. But it remains with me in bits and pieces. A woman has so many roles to play. Being married is one big transition from being yourself to being ? what? I don't know. But I think after sometime one finds her feet again. I know I like dolling myself up if that is what you will call it. But now I am quite sure of my choices... Psst... I still do not know how to put on a make up! :D

Hmm... we went for a morning walk today. I like being with LinuS. It was nice when he held my hand while crossing the road on the way to the park. Well, you are definitely no more in that heart fluttering phase but the touch brings on a big smile and a glow.

So, do not expect love stories. I know Milan and Annie will not stop thanking God for this :P. And no more past reminisces either of a romantic girl falling in love and getting over. But well can you really write without a love element, Vid?

(Post Script: LinuS pointed out that I have been mentioning him as S... I am your LinuS, he reminded cheekily. And I promptly made the changes... hence the capital S in LinuS. But I like this better now... !)

Momoir- Mother's Memoir

Rhymes and tickles, frolic and fun

I am a little tea pot

Short and stout

Here's my handle and here's my spout

When the water's boiling

Hear me Shout

Pick me up and pour me out

Isn't it lovely. I never thought I would look out for nursery rhymes, memorize them and then sing them over and over again. S admits I know far more rhymes than him. Well, I haven't heard him graduate beyond Twinkle Twinkle. M loves to hear Old Mc Donald, Twinkle Twinkle (and she will open up her palm and close it again to make the gesture of a twinkling star) and Baa baa black sheep. She has recently taken to Hindi rhymes too. We got a DVD of hindi rhymes so that her grandma could sing to her as well. Hmm, the whole house is now singing: Aaloo kachaloo bete kaha gaye the...baingan kee tokri mei so rahe the..!

I sometimes wonder if I am talking enough to her, am I reading enough to her. I worry in the back of my mind that we have not yet started story telling. All this is thanks to the parenting sites that I go through! Well, I realize we have given listening to flute a break. Hearing Hari Prasad Chourasia had become a regimen when M was colicy. Now, I think we have wider options to explore.

There is so much on my mind. From weaning to writing to giving her the mug to drink and making that album for her first birthday to buying new toys. I wish there were quite few new mums that I knew. So that we would have a Momz Gang. It's strange but it's true- when I called up S's cousin today, she told her hubby that M's mom is calling. From Vid to M's mom!

I signed up on twitter too today. Well, I did not get the user id i wanted...vidwata..neither did i get vid... I thought of alternatives. Sample this WithWater...and guess what already taken... The next on my mind was withWereWhat...and there I am ... Still trying to figure out how to tweet. I think I am better at telling stories than tweeting. If I could tweet I could even consider flash fiction next.

Anyways, another thing of paramount importance is getting back to writing. I want to start working from home. Something that involves writing. So, let me get back into my writer's chair and put on my creative hat. What do you wish to read next... a poem, a story or a discourse on how to raise a child!!

See you soon. And yes, your comment brings a smile! Thanks.

Night out

What does night out mean to a mum of a 9 month old. Yay yay yay M turns 9 months tomorrow. So, well let me celebrate a late night in front of my machine. You do need some quiet time and a quiet corner to do your writing. The sound of the whirring fan is my sole companion. I am just hoping this piece is not punctuated by M's cry. Babies are such a darling. But thats not all to them. Ah, I only wonder how my parents survived 3 kids.

With the 9th month M is getting into a schedule now. Or rather a better schedule. She has started getting up on time which means she sleeps quite early these days. Touch wood. And well, she has taken to solids too. Is it going to be a mum's rant, I wonder!

Well, well, well.... I have become a mum! Celebrations!!!!!!!!!! ha ha.. Being a parent means such loads of responsibility. For an infant you are her sole care taker. You teach her everything... and one day they grow up , just like you and me did.

Hmmm... why don't I write often. I wonder how many of you drop by. A few I know. A few I do not. S''s comment on takeaway was lovely. It is strange how I have come to love S sooo soo much. Well... let me stop poring my sugary romantic thoughts and come back to writing. Well, I recently dug out my copy of Kotler from the spare room. It was lying under the bed. Uncared, unsung and unhonoured. So here it is back on my desk. And we read about customization and customerization. And I smile. I am not the same ME that I was when I used to take that book to school. I do not have the same pals that I had. No more of the pathetic coffee and rounds of scrabble and going home late. But I am glad I have found myself again.

Thank you Philip Kotler (thats his name, na! )

Love u

Vid

Basket ball, shopping and eating out

Dribble, dribble and shoot

It was after ages or so it seemed, when I dribbled that ball. Voila! There it was , a basket. Running around with the ball was just too liberating. There were no more strings attached, if you understand what it means. It was like becoming Vid again. The only thing was I was too excited and wasted too much of energy rather than playing tactfully. I lost. But did I? I actually FOUND! I found Vid again :)

There is this guy called Jai (Joy in Bengali) who is the coach. He said I play extremely well, at least in comparision :P

Shopping and eating out

I went out shopping today. Alone! I pleaded with S to come along. Bribed him with a lunch at our favorite South Indian eatery. But he turned me down. Well, the dude was working from home. So there can be no far away lunches. So, I went on my on. I never knew Pantaloons housed infant section too. Now a mom of a Lil One, I climbed the stairs and checked out the infant section. After spending some good time I was ready with 4 dresses for P. Then I went down stairs and picked an offwhite Patiala and a royal blue Kurta for myself. Indulgence.... wait more is coming. Then I crossed the road and went to my favorite eatery and had Idli, vada and Dosa. Oh, Yes!!!! Saw 6 youngsters sitting on a table infront of mine. Was smiling... got reminded of my own college days and our hang outs ... Then I thought M would be one day a young girl and then it would be her and her friends ... And I sipped my filter coffee merrily... Missed S terribly...

Hmmm... Vid's day out... Loved it. I want to be me again. I want to be me again. I want to be me again.

Is this a paradox or a philosophy gone beserk?

Awaiting Patiently!

It's nice to know you came by. It's nice to know you will wait. It's nice to know you will wait with patience.

Well, I should reward you for your patience, shouldn't I? What should I tell you today Annie. Should I tell you that the first part of my book has come true, I have a daughter now. And yes, I am sure she will turn into a beauty. She will not be someone who will dance on the floor with sneakers. She will be a stilleto dudette. Well, it is up to her really. I am merely imagining. And well what does this imagination suggest, did I secretly want to dress the way I never dressed, and be the person I never was. Think about it, we never really are sure about who we are, yet we try to be someone else. Well, I wonder who I tried to be... or rather why I gave up ... (i chuckle).

There has been so much of overhaul in life in the last one year. A precious little popped out... and I went under the knife for once and all in my life.. Fretting each time you go to the pediatrician ... hoping your babe has gained enough weight, debating on breast or formula with concerned family members, learning how to give M a nice bath, worrying when M rejects solid food...

Oh... I have become a Mommy, haven't I?

I wonder if a man ever underwent so so so so so many emotional ups and downs like a woman does. Motherhood is so humbling...you realize what effort your parents have put in. Soiled nappies, scattered toys, the yelling at the middle of nights... and still M or any other baby remains apple of their parents eyes. The toothless grin is so amazing, so fulfilling, so gratifying. You thank GOD that there is this one creature who loves u the way you are... who loves to see your face when she wakes up... whose face lights up at your sight... And there are trying times when you wonder how did your parents ever raise three crazy kids...and M is only 8 months yet...

Well, I am sorry i got carried away Annie... But what else should i talk to u. Should i talk about aspirations that have been swept under the carpet. Well...did u see nobody killed Jessica... it is a great watch...but not something i would like to see at this stage... with little time that i have on hand i am up for good comedies...but anyways i got to watch this movie. i loved rani mukherjee out and out... i wish i were like her character.. err.. what was her name.. ha ha ha...

ya... everyone wants to be someone else... This is a neat, non confusing philosophical dose for your nocturnal visit.

see u around ..
much love,

uhi sathi

Restart

My machine is now 5 years old... It seems like honeymoon is over... may be not yet. S bought a brand new battery for our 5 yr old companion of HP descent. HP Pavilion dv 4000 has proudly sat on my desk till M came into our lives. Since then I folded it and put it away in a dark corner. But I guess it is time to restart!

So, I now have a cleaner machine (thanks to the guy who serviced my machine) and well it is again a pleasure to thumb my fingers through the keypad and generate some literary piece ;)

Hmm... lets go the list way...one of my old time favorites...

#1. Downloading microsoft security essential
#2. Listening flute... Niladri Kumar
#3. Going out for movie...Nobody killed Jessica...
#4. Want to write mails again
#5. Want to make a crazy set of pals again and laugh my head off...

Thats all for now....

With lots of musical notes

Vid

Peek a boo!

caught you, didn't I! Now, don't lie that you expected me around here. This corner has been neglected ...err deserted to be precise. I actually feel quite foreign around here! Anyways...the girl with too many exclamation marks is back here again... Now don't snigger on the 'girl' part!

So howz life been dude? Yeah, I know we are all growing up...but the best way to be a child again is to have one around you... And then you coo around the home...and sing song while you take the lil one out on a walk... from muttering to oneself on the street to singing rhymes....

She is sleeping now... I wonder if she dreams... What does she dream of... Mommy picking her up on her shoulders and playing 'chini kee bori!' or up in Pa's arms as he sprints through our little hall. Or may be Dadima showing her flowers...

My cousin had come over recently and she said she'd love to be M's age... M is so cool, she chirped. M is up... catch you again..

With love,

VidE

New Wonder

Life is so rewarding... It rewards one with experiences. Whether it is a failed love story or carefree school days... it leaves a rich gem each time... gems that you can string together...or form a crossword...

why do we call crossword a cross word... you go up and you go down...but are the words cross with you... I wonder.. and suddenly I hope facebook should give you more options than just Like a status...it should introduce... I WONDER!

Little bundles that life brings in... little joyous bundles...moments filled with love... happiness and anxiety... Like a baby in the household... You can think of one hundred and ten names for her... and when she is actually here...she will decide what hair cut she will wear... Imagine kids giving parents one big opportunity to impose themselves on their rebellious selves... They let you name them .. voila...

How would it be with a little one running across my room... with her picture on my desk... with her smiles reflected on my face... is it like reliving your childhood? "I WONDER!"

To Annie with lil love ;)

Hi..

I think somewhere we have lost the connect - especially the one when you do not pause to see if it is alright to ring up in the middle of the night or early early morning.... heck, lemme still get ahead and write a crazy crazy mail that you will I know savor with your black cup of morning tea... I guess these are few side effects of a greatly romantic marriage...at least in the early 10 years buddies are given a back seat ;)... but well I do believe strong ppl are like garlic..they smell out ..oops stand out... not withstanding however much deep they have fallen albeit in love..

It is 7.22 am not too early by your standards... i would have loved to wander in an empty apartment and fix myself a cup of women's horlicks... since I have given up coffee...or have I? (after a break of few months ...coffee is giving me a kick like it were a shot of Tequila...) Coming back to the empty apartment.. would I not have loved pottering around in a tank top and a pair of comfortable shorts that i am wearing rite now... but well that would be off the limit...I miss such a freedom i have had only in europe... living alone has its own set of advantages and disadvantages..sigh*!

hmmm... reading richard branson can be addictive... because i have been reading him up... guess what taken to tubular bells... and i guess such music gives me a high that alcohol fails to deliver... thence the mail... thence the word THENCE... peculiar na... THENCE... :P

sooo.. would you like to go back to those spaced out moments... i mean those moments have been rare for me for quite sometime... I wonder why am i so damn practical.. why am i the one who is so lizzy pizzy...trying to please everyone :P... Where is my own backbone...where are my decisions... why do I draw a blank when it comes to standing out like a garlic that I prided myself to be. Ofcourse, i like the quirky crazy me :) . It does surface once in a while...and when i do not bother what ppl outside might think of when the sound of tubular bells emnates from my room punctuating the whistles of pressure cooker that's vehemently steaming another morning meal...

I sometimes find it claustrophobic to live with people these days... am i too accustomed living alone... I find it hard to look up people in their eyes... eye contact means an inane conversation... when I was younger and listened to Pink Floyd behind closed doors..shutting out my parents....... why do we sometimes want to close out... i hear puja bells chiming as tubular bell dies out in my laptop.... and a humming..

mum in law was out for a week...and i was doing the pujas and all...staying at home a few of such things is actually some form of engagement.... our puja place is a small almirah fixed on wall so you must stand up as you go about pouring water over lord shiva... I love doing that...giving Shiva a nice bath... with nice cold water... i guess it just is natural since i love the time inside shower myself so much...the soothing water...continuous like life... new like each drop... amazing..

wow...so my morning raga is about the feeling of being invaded again... where is the space thats my own... is that why workholics drown in their work...to find their space... do you understand what i mean...

i do not cook my food... not that i would love to swap places with u :P (a perfect superwoman who manages her kitchen as she does the HRD)...but i would like to sometimes not have an overprotective parental figure breathing over my neck..fussing around that I might tire myself cooking a lil somehting...

oops... so thats the cribbing... just like another teeny meeny teenbopper... and the lil kid in me kicks up... the lil kid... literally speaking..

how would our relationship be..i wonder.. whatever it is...she will still complain and probably crib and mail her pals about a mom who is so .. so ..so .... dunno that yet~

lemme replay the tubular bells... and then get into shower and then get dressed into proper clothes and then go out and check what breakfast has been cooked..

till then bye from both the Big Kid and the Lil Kiddo...

and yah... no need to reply... this could have been just another blog post... only i thought of you this morning

sending you a lil love that u might accomodate :)

sarcasm is the way wid Vid...

The Kite Runner

No book that I have ever read made me feel like crying. Several time a sob rises up my throat as I continue reading the Kite Runner. Perhaps, it is a work that dissolves the abstractness of words like poignance and despondence into hard core truth.

I read this book in the typical European weather. Under the yellow light of the lamp on bedside, on the couch where sunlight filters through the large French window and on the small 4 seater dining where I drink my coffee with some delicious upma.

It is foggy this morning and I have finished my book. I feel foggy too. At loss with words. It is as though I have been to those streets in Afganistan, as though I have met Hasan-seen him grow up into a fine young father. It is as though I am Amir, and I feel like kneeling down and seek forgiveness from my Khuda. It is as though I am Soraya Jaan, waiting for Sohrab to speak. But I cannot be Sohrab, I cannot fathom the depth of sorrow the little one went through.

It is only a story I tell myself, as I choke on tears. But what a story it is!

A bout of ...

She hurried to the toilet and doubled over the pot. She was sure that she was getting sick. But nothing came out of her mouth. She straightened herself looked at her reflection in the little mirror that hung on the opposite wall. Eyes stung from crying, hair a little dishevelled and the tip of her nose, it had gone a little red. It was an adorable nose. Beautiful by the definition of beauty in their caste. Sharp nose, curving ever so gently.

She wiped her tears, which had already dried .Had Avinash not been away for the last few months, she would have wondered if she had gotten pregnant. She crinkled her nose and smiled. It must be the chickpeas that she had for lunch. Not easy to stomach. Specially when you are eating alone. She tried to shoo away loneliness which had again descended in her little house. She hummed a song and moved about wondering when he will come back.

Playing Piya Ghar Aavenge at BollyExclusive.com

Playing Piya Ghar Aavenge at BollyExclusive.com

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A rainbow

A little happy, a little sad. It's like a rainbow.

Sri had said something like that. On a cloudy day like this I wish there were a rainbow.

I wonder quite often, why we forget our past.... "Which place was that?" I read a friend's comment in face book. I try hard myself to figure where exactly the photo was taken. The photo has couple of girls laughing over nothing. It was us in the college days.

Those days... they end up being a sweet remembrance. Past is all but your memory. It is thus I get scared when my memory starts fading. Is it not in my memory that I still am with my past. I wonder why you tell me to live in the present. This moment now will also come back to me when it is past and tomorrow becomes today.

I feel happy to see that people I had loved are happy. But there is a twang of sadness when I see that their memories of me has faded! Do I never occur to you my friend? Have I just become a nice surprise in your inbox, who you would love to respond, amidst the hustle bustle of your present life. And you do end up sending two lines before you sign off for your weekend.

Such is life. You move on. You make new friends. But is it not the same cycle again. The present becomes the past. Newer friends like Sri... and then life goes by and by and takes away your friends. Is life like an ocean that sweeps your precious shells away from the beach in one wave...and yet in another bestows upon you with splendid new treasures!

(currently reading Catalina, Somerset Maugham...that might explain the melancholy, which is accentuated by the European weather...and no new mails :) )