Quirky prats!

PS from "Just a mother of two" tagged me and wanted to know me better...and after hiding some of the eekie habits under the bed, I've come out with this...but first


The Rules:


Link to the person that tagged you.

Post the rules on your blog.

Share six non-important things/habits/quirks about yourself.

Tag six random people at the end of your post by linking to their blogs.

Let each random person know they have been tagged by leaving a comment on their website.



Non-important : What can be so nothing about being important I never found out…and I have tried to find the things that’s my quirks…. and when I saw the word "six" my mind just went all the way to Suma's post on her sonny boy...and what he had to say to this


One : I’m a TEA person. By that I mean, I can drink anything you give me called tea…it could be watered down brownish hot water, it could be dip dip dip tea, it could be masal chai, anything…I can drink it. No fuss and no shame. If someone were to ask me if I would like to have tea or coffee, I’ll just shamelessly say “ Yes! I don’t mind some tea! “ Even if I’ve had a mug a few minutes before. Tea being made and given by another person is a treat for me…and something I love.

Two : I love the smell of books. And have this vague habit of sniffing at the pages, or even soaking in the fragrance of old books, new , anything… books do that to me.

Three : I have to always sleep on the right side of my bed. If I have to change places for some reason…I’ll be so restless, that I can’t sleep at all.

Four : I have to open out all the doors and windows of my house as soon as I wake up, much to the irritation of my son, who thinks I’m crazy to let the cold breeze into the nicely warmed up rooms. The freshness of early morning air is so addictive, “sigh” he’ll never understand.


Five :I’m a very animated chatterbox. Hands will have to describe what my brains are setting out to convey. I can talk to myself if no fortunate soul is available ( but its more during stressful conditions or during the high energy-I’m-angry situations) and even then the hands will show me what I myself am thinking..



Six : I can remember small details on roads,( the road, dips twice and then bends to the right, where there is a small pothole,before you see a brown colored cloth hanging from the tree, that’ll have only 4 leaves…yes!! ) while giving directions to someplace…but I might not remember the name of the place itself. I few weeks back, I called for an autorikshaw and told him to take me to a location. I didn’t know the name of the place, but could describe the entire route to the T. He managed to take me there, and then when he dropped me off, promptly told “ MayDum! Ee Jaagakke, BEL circle antha heLthaare. Next time, a hesaru heLi “ ( madam! This place is called BELCircle, next time, say that name )


And this was me full face to you’ll



Now tagging

Guruprasad : The Daddy blogger!!

Keshi : Reveal yet some more!!

Barbara : Know how she travels, would love to know her more

Preethi : would love to see what Nantu has made her into :)

Keith : So much creativity, would like to hear the other side to him too

There is nothing permanent except change!!

Change is the only constant in my life!!

It’s a very oft heard phrase….and somehow in this roller coaster ride of our lives, nothing seems more cheerful than change..but there are days when you just long for that one routine that you’d like to hold onto….

And when Hip Hop Grandmom tagged me to do this, I was left thinking so hard, knocked my mind off….always have, when I’m put through a drill of thinking…

It says here

It is important to be liked by others

I wonder if there is anyone out here, who doesn’t like a little bit of appreciation. I’m sure that’s a need. Children get into temper tantrums for some kind of attention and I think we all have that small child in us somewhere. But living your life just so that people like you is not what I want. I’d rather live my life, being happy, and bringing joy to others around me…what others think matters little to me

Obedience is a virtue

Oh yes!! This was something that was imbibed in us not through teaching but through seeing those around me. My parents never forced any kind of virtue on us….we respected them, and thus came around obedience. But this didn’t mean, we had to go about our lives without questioning them.. Now when I see a few kids being ordered to obey their elders, I wonder what they’re making their kids out to be. More like rebels. I feel if you respect others and their space, its more than enough. It’ll bring in the rest of rightness in you.

People are not malicious but they become so because of bad experiences or circumstances:

A small incident can make people react and say such things that we’ll never know where it came from. But there is nothing to say , when a perfectly well educated person, reacts to a situation in the most horrid manner….A very polite and educated person if needled long enough, can lose it too…

Education broadens our view and makes people more humane.

Education gives a lot of knowledge, yes. Experiences brings with it, just that : experience.
Sometimes the environment that a person lives in, can mould him into being what he is. Then, education can just go flying out of the window. My grandmother was not educated, but the generosity with which she lived her life, would put some of us to shame.

People who have no money troubles are happier.

Happiness is a state of mind. Money can come and go, if a person can maintain his balance, he’ll be happy and content. And the quantity differs with each person, circumstances and mental requirement. When we were younger and in school, our definition for happiness was far different from what the kids now believe it to be.
Money brings comforts yes! But if we find comfort in what we have, I’m sure we can be happier.

As people get older they get wiser

Reminds me of the kid in the movie “Cheeni Kum” Where she goes on about being happy sad, or sad sad. There are kids like that around me…and leaves me thinking how wise they can get, while some older people can act as if they got stuck in their childhood, and refuse to let the wheels go forward.

You can live on love and fresh air.

Love and fresh air, gives you a sense of peace and contentment around us. This can help one in working towards achieving goals, making money and also being happy. But you can’t always depend on just that…you need brains too to go on and make your living. After saying this, I wonder if my little son actually only requires love and fresh air to live, when he just wont eat, and he seems perfectly fine.

There is a celestial guardian angel looking after each one of us.

I have always believed in the presence of this angel above me…watching over me and always pushing me forward. My loved ones who watch over me from above have given me the feeling of security always. I don’t want to anything to change that belief of mine.

All living beings reincarnate.

Have never believed in this ever. I won’t say it is true or false. If someone believes in this, it is his own belief…so I stay out of it. I believe in what is in front of me, and what is within me. When people say, “He’s like this because of what karma he did in his past life, it has me flummoxed…”
Do good now and see its fruits now…that’s my belief.

Heaven and Hell are places you go to after death.

As Hip Hop Grandmom says, it’s right here on earth. It’s all in my mind. I can create hell within my own thoughts, and heaven is in front of me, as I see joy and peace around me….when I’m in bliss eating an icecream, watching my kids grow, and when someone comes up and says my kids are such wonderful kids I feel a bit of heaven right there…. Yep, Heaven and Hell are right here next to me, in me. Why should I worry about where I go after I die….I’ll worry about how I live right now


And finally

I always believed that parents could take sides with their children, but now that I’m a parent myself, I know better.

I believed in the power of love. Always believed that all families were like mine.

I always believed that only men watched porn tsk tsk…

As a kid I always believed my father was a superpower …he could do anything and everything, and I still believe that. I just need to hear his voice and everything is normal.

I always believed that a husband and wife never fought…I wont say anything more now….

Now breaking rules and traditions….I’d like to tag anyone who thinks this gives them something to think of and write about…

Flushed and glued!!!

"We spend the first twelve months of our children's' lives teaching them to walk and talk and the next twelve years telling them to sit down and shut up."...Phyllis Diller


And I just did that!!
And hours later I am still eaten by guilt. The look that crossed the little one’s face broke my heart. He had kept to himself all evening, not troubling me, working hard on his craft work. Cutting and sticking pieces of paper…

Toilet tissues have found new uses thanks to television channels showing interesting programs on craftwork . My kids love these programs, and so do I. When I’m tired and having no energy to function around a 2 boy household, I thank my stars, these programs are aired on TV.
In spite of all the war that goes on against TV watching for kids, I subscribe to the fact, that a good program can work well for your child , and so it does.

Now my family is thrown out of gear…after the hand wash episodes, now it’s the turn of disappearing tissue paper. Whole rolls of paper is water washed into balls, human figures, painted and glued together, so that makes another item in the house dwindle, the scotch tape, or if nothing else (actually more preferred) the insulation tape, in all sizes and colors.
Now this tape can wind itself around a very normal, healthy tennis ball ( It bounces better ma!!) , it holds two seemingly innocent sticks together for some deed its always unaware of…sometimes it could be used as the catapult, or maybe a bow and arrow, but it can be used…none of those shop bought stuff hold a candle to these lopsided craftwork

When the presenter Neil, smiles his trademark one, and does his various stuff, little does he know how the mommas on this side of the TV would like to wring his neck…Inspirations aside, I have now, small stones, pebbles ( picked off our own apartment neatly manicured garden) , shells, sticks, vague looking objects, sand, mud, charcoal from the dhobhi’s space, all brought in to satisfy the little ones’ creative outbursts.

He spent a whole morning, stooped and pensive posture, working hard on his new Pièce de résistance, my entire drawing room, resembling a stonewashed sandpit. …and turned around to proudly showcase it to his tired-migraine-hit-momma, when she turns and screams with horror.
She sees first the floor, not the little piece of paper, he’s proudly displaying…and gives him a earful.

Thankfully for her, he knows she'll immediately regret it and come and hear him say, "Ma! Look what I did…awesome isn’t it???"

And she, after her initial mad reaction, sees his work and can’t stop herself from giving him a big warm hug and laughs when he tries to squirm out his wiry body from her blotchy, potchy kisses…

While trying her best to not show ,her mind furiously working hard and trying to trace the next batch of tissue rolls kept in storage….

‘Life is difficult!’...

She looked at the phone in her hand, she wanted with all her might, to not say the words, she had thought to say. She had all her life spoken the truth. Dreading that a lie would break her apart. How could she break the news to him, without hurting him.

She saw ahead of her …two diverging paths. One led her to lie and keep him happy, but she would live a life of regrets. The other more painful for her. She had to keep her life going forward, on smooth well-oiled wheels, or should she chose to ruin the happiness he was living with, and tell him the truth.
If she chose the first, there was every reason that she would be in misery and he in bliss, living a lie? The truth would hurt him and her too, but at least it would give her a will to carry on, knowing that she had tried….and learn to live through forgiveness and the wishes for him to carry on
What could she chose?

Writer's Island put up a prompt "Fork on the road" and I thought of this that could be go well into that

Rail gadi chuk chuk, chuk chuk!!

The entire gang rushed ahead dragging along their heavy cases, the innumerable bags, overflowing with plans and dreams of a great holiday…a journey by train.
The kids were so excited , it was so contagious. They had never been on a train like this before. It was always air conditioned comforts where there was so much privacy, but a lot less fun. You could look out of the window, but you could not feel the whoosh of the wind, the lingering fragrance of smoke. Now they could hear the many vendors with their assorted wares “chai, kaapi, baLeen , biskit”. This time their parents had made sure the kids traveled and experienced the journey firsthand.


After sleeping through the night on flat plastic beds, high in the carriage, ., talking to their friends through the jaali work on top ,in hushed voices, there could be nothing , that could be more fun
But now there was a silence in the compartment. The journey was stretching and no one knew why. That’s when they heard it.., a soft strumming, and that too a guitar!! Wow!!

“There is going to be some singing.”

The tempo picked up. The voices could be heard all over. The small feet dangling from above the heads of the adults suddenly went still and disappeared, only to appear a few seconds later, down, next to them. It was fun. “Uncle, please play “Dardedisco”, "no, lets play, Bhool Bhulaiyya" said another in his singsong tone…..a small plate was fished out from the bags around them, and then the drummer boy took over…..so the band was getting complete, and so were the sounds. ‘Perfectly imperfect’, that was how it sounded, but the energy, the bliss, the fun was being carried over and through their seats.

The little travelers, thought that their adult companions were fun, they were after all singing like them. …the sounds picked up, now it was the “mehbooba” song, then the famous 'dum maro dum', and the songs kept coming…

“ Saarr, can I please join you??. C,mon, start with the gitarr.. Can u play drums for this Saaar?? “ Sheets of papers in hand, a fellow traveler took the only little available space on the lower berth. Lyrics, neatly inked into them, he started singing a song.

Looked around to see 16 dumbstruck faces small and big. They had never seen lyric sheets nor did they want to. And now he wanted to sing a song that they never knew, he goaded them on…the voices became softer, smaller. The little feet went back to the upper berth. The faces went and stuck their noses against the window glass….only the shocked adults were playing host to him…
The tempo was broken, and the enthusiasm never returned…

“ R, the lil one wants to go the loo, can you please take him??”

So out went the drummer, and similarly the guitarist…and slowly the very disappointed, singing traveler thanked the gang and left to go to his seat…



The prompt for Sunday scribblings, got me to post this

Hunting for hidden treasures!!!

The gift of security, the knowledge of being there

Can it be the treasure, of having your parents there?

The laughter you share, the colors that’s yours to care
Are you the friend, to whom my thoughts will lay bare?

You teach me math, physics and geography,
Is there a gift inside your methodology?

The treasure that I see when you smile,
Your gurgle lifts my spirits in a while

The fragrance of the flowers in your grandfather’s garden
Bringing memories, so cherished and unforgotten?

Those pages browned ,dog-eared with love and age
Are these words so loved and priceless?

Melodies that bring a song into your heart

Reaching those eyes in a sparkle and a tear

I lay down at night, with thoughts left unaware
Are you the support, leaving my side n’ere?

These muses I hold
Love and joy to behold,
Moments of pleasure
To cherish and treasure
.


Written in response to the prompt at Writer’s island. "Treasure" and then, a song to listen while you go through this space, that brings back those days so treasured

Treasure brings forth so many thoughts and so many memories. When I hold treasure hunts for kids I love to see their eyes sparkle each time they come away with their solutions to the clue. The last time I had organized one such treasure hunt…I had put up the clues here. Thought I’d share that too along with these few lines that cropped up in my head the moment the word TREASURE passed by my mind.

She sells ,sea shells ,on the sea shore!!

I was just going through a website looking for sea shells for some school project reference. It amazed me to see such wonderful creatures...and all I did these years were collect them from beaches , wash them and kept them in strategic places...showed them off to the kids who gazed at them so lovingly...

They were the ones who actually saw them for what they were...I did see the colors but they saw the changing patterns, those beautiful streaks of light passing through...and then this year it came back
On our visit to Goa we stayed on this beach which was filled with shells....starfishes..which I had conveniently relegated to the encyclopedia. God!! they are such amazing beauties.

Now my 'show off' collection has tripled and so has my need to know more about them. Like my lil one repeats a definition from his school..'teacher helps us to gain knowledge' but no I gained from these glittering eyes, that of our lil children...

They could spend hours just looking for that little crab that would crawl out unsuspectingly out of the small nooks and shells, and the sand..Can we as adults devote an entire day just looking at shells and searching all over the bare sand for them?? I wonder??

Should I or should I not?

Poles apart?!!!!

Yes they can be. Two people raised by the same entity ( yeah, that’s what I start thinking I’ve become ), with such diverse behavior and energies, mindsets and tolerance..Life can be a one long roller coaster ride.

But it does bring with it, some fresh smiles, and a few moments of unrestrained laughter.

My kids see to it that I never retain the same mood through the day…

After all she's their ‘weird mom’- someone who can’t figure out why the damn cellphone doesn’t just go to call mode, even while they play their games on hers…it somehow seems to obey like magic when they operate it.


She’s the ‘Nerd’ in the family- only because she remembers all her math from school, while they only see dancing figures ( I’m sure its purely futile just for my sake!! ) His dialogue was” you’re a nerd ma!! How can you remember such stuff….so dumb” Now how much dumber can I get???


She’s the “stupid momma” –cos she doesn’t know why” Neil Armstrong was the first guy to step on the moon?” Now why should I know that? Isn’t it enough that he did and he was first…”No. But why? Even Edwin Aldrin was with him, why not him? “ Times like these my frustration is directed towards the teachers for asking such questions in class…and all for 6 year olds…

She’s “the irritating momma” only because she insists he eats his lunch just like the others do…while he is playing a sport. He is thrilled that his other friends too consider their moms as irritating…” all mothers are irritating , ma! P says so too, and so does D “ . Now only I know what D’s and P’s mothers think of this…

She is the “stepmother” – Only because she gave the chocolate to the brother before she gave it to him…aaaww, is that a category under being a step mom…I wish I was the goddess Durga like the one Zanny has drawn out, with her various hands…handing out treats with all hands and still being reasonable.

She is “gross” – she asks them to eat a fruit instead of chocolates, or the chewing gum.

She is “cool” – cos she taught them how to whistle…fingers inside the mouth, lips tightly closed over it and hoot…getting them ready for their heydays eh!!. She also taught them to climb the coconut trees, blow huge bubbles with the gum that just doesn’t seem to leave their system., and better still she taught them that it is ok to feel scared to go up in the para sail, but go you must. Cos tomorrow you might regret not trying it once. And they came back all excited and wide eyed!

She is “the wikipedia” for the apartment complex, cos she takes time out to find info for everyone, just so that they can have that extra play time…and the other moms can go to their kitty parties.

She still is trying to find out the reason why she gave her older child an honest answer to his
"where do babies come from?" and squirming from the sly smiles she got as his know-all looks. (Wonder if daughters ask such questions too? Cos I never did...)

She loves it yeah!! So much more…adoloscence is looming hard on us…and we have big monsters creeping out to scare us…but I’m sure, this weird momma will stay put chasing those shadows away….while still laughing each time she thinks of her lil one’s take on his question to Neil Armstrong!! “ Edwin Aldrin was scared that the moon was hot, so he asked Neil to go first”


Reminds me of the song from the latest movie "Taare Zameen Par" Such lovely lyrics...

Ya ya Mayyayo

HAPPY NEW YEAR TO ALL THOSE WHO MOUSE IN... :)

Vacations are over and I’m sure happy, and feel like screaming from the rooftops.

Can’t even do that. ‘Cos my throats gone a long excursion into coarse, close, hoarse land!!! And all because I decided to enjoy myself, thoroughly during my trip to Goa, to usher in the New Year.
I know I always wonder why people make such a big event out of it…can’t u treat the day just like any other day. After all we Indians have hundreds of new years to celebrate. Now who am I to complain??
After all its just another day to party or be with the ones you love.

Its strange how, you see your friends from school and college, the ones you’ve played gilli danda, or lagori with, the ones who helped you through your first hangover, the same pals who sat through your late night presentations, just so that you’ll have company and wouldn’t fall asleep. They are the very same. They haven’t changed.
Yes they have, a wee bit!! They’ve married, added onto their cluster, and their headaches and sleepless nights. The kids are growing up to be a reflection of their very own selves.

The other day while we were all sitting at the table in the resort waiting for the “oh so slow” (its always like that in Goa) lunch to come to our table, my son remarked looking at my friends daughter “Ma! She looks just like A uncle, doesn’t she?” Yes she did, her mannerisms, her looks and her poise all resembled her father. That was hard for us to take, it brought a lump in our throats ( of course, I’m sure only us moms ). We had seen these very same guys talking through their hats flirting around college campus, walking around acting as if they were heroes. Now they are real heroes, to their children and seeing them in such soft roles, brings a warm smile.

I just read Tys post and it reminded me of this. Why can’t men be allowed to show their true feelings?

Surprisingly if we are close to any one, we don’t need to hide, and we can sense their every suppressed laugh, their hidden tears, the agony that they go through trying hard not to let the others see …Yes, we can see through them. But not because they are bad at hiding them, but because we love them and we care for them.

This trip was a journey for all of us. We have gone on so many trips taking our kids along. This one was different. Our kids are growing, and we see ourselves through them. We had time to spend with our friends, while the kids made their own days. They bonded with each other, gender be damned, and age be frowned upon.
We partied for them, with them and without them. In the end we walked away gingerly ( too much of dancing and drinking and blisters in our tired feet), with a smile on our terribly tanned, roasted faces, only knowing that the kids were happy, we had had a great holiday, relaxed, rested, danced, sang, and shouted ourselves hoarse.

Now that I’m back, its taken me a while to get back to normal routine. Still think, I’ll have to wait endlessly for the waiters to show up to take our food orders, and then when one does arrive, he’s so confused that he lands up mixing up the orders, the small details that we in our frenzied state have given him. But in the end we smile, cos the food is good ..(the food in Goa is always that, no doubts about that !slurrrrpp!!!!) and their ambience is even better , and more so their music puts you into a trance. (listen to the song below to know why?? )

And now I try to get back to my routine, kids , finished school projects ( as usual in a last minute frantic panic session) and then the regular doorbell routine… (the only thing missing is the "krupaya dhyan deejiye, platform number 4 per aanewali. gaadi......ting tong)



Boy!!! Am I sad to be back!!!!!