How do you solve a problem like a ‘Baby’?

Ron turns 4 months old today and as he coos and gurgles, throws his tiny hand in the air, clings on to me for his dear life, flashes the most brilliant smile I’ve ever seen in years, I begin to think that this was the calling of my life, to raise both Eri and Ron in His image and to love these kids and transform them into responsible human beings. At least, I can give it a shot even though it can be extremely tiring and trying at times. Have you ever imagined how many questions can pop into a woman’s head, especially when the pregnancy is unplanned?

From where do I get started? Let me tell you one thing, until last year, if there was anything I wanted badly in my life it was a second child. However, the decisions we made for our family did not accommodate a second child into our family frame. Maxim for one was doubly sure that if there is anything he did not want then it was a second baby. His uncertainty rubbed on me big time. We had reason to believe that we were meant to raise only one child.

Second time round, I did not even know that I was with another baby. I attributed the pregnancy nausea to a gastric problem and went for a liver function test as directed by my GP. However, the dosage of medicine she was to administer for my gastric problem was pretty high and hence she asked me to first run a pregnancy blood test which was a foolproof way to ascertain facts. Later that evening, I went about shopping for Eri’s sports day costume while Max ran the report with the doc. He called me and announced, 1/3^rd surprised (can whack him for this… I mean.. ‘our child right?’ kind of an attitude), 1/3^rd  confused with a one liner, ‘you are pregnant’, 1/3^rd  amused that we were going to have a baby.  What bothered me then was not the 2/3^rd of mixed emotion he was going through, it was the piercing 1/3^rd of emotion in which he broke the pregnancy news to me that blew my mind. Surprisingly, seeming very composed, I told him, ‘it takes two to make a baby, Mitch’. I knew for a sure fact that nothing was getting registered in his head.

That evening as I let Max fight his daemons, I decided to confront mine. As I was heading back from the shopping mall recovering from an Amygdala hijack, a lot of emotions started clouding my mind, a lot of prayers went up in thanksgiving and a lot more asking God, why now?

What were my fears and why did I have them?

Trust me, till date, I have no idea why I felt that way. You can blame it on the pregnancy hormones, but whatever the reason is, these fears were real. Life was sailing till then in tepid waters; this was the news I was waiting to hear from a long time, but when it finally happened I certainly was not on cloud nine.

My doubts seemed to never end:

What about the new baby?

How would it be? Could there be a mistake? How will this pregnancy proceed? Will the baby be okay?

Then came Eri, What about Eri?

After seven years of being the only child, was she ready for a sibling? How will I break the news to her? How do I prepare her? Since I always knew she wanted a sister, but then, what if it was a boy?

Then Max, What about Max?

Would he be able to accept the second child? (I wouldn’t have given him a choice anyway hehehe), How long will he take to come to terms with our baby number 2?  What about us as a couple? What about his job? His future plans?

And yes, What about ‘me’?

My career, what about my career? I put in a lot to make it what it was. My career was at a make or break point (now at a complete break point), my much orchestrated life for the next couple of months would still remain that way but what after that?  What about the finances? Who will take care of the baby when I’m away at work? How do I juggle work and home? How do I work, part time or full time? Was I physically fit to have this baby?

What about my early retirement plan? What about my dream to teach kids in school? All that had to now be put on a back burner. Momentarily, but yes, that is where it would go.

I knew for sure that some of these questions would be put to rest in due course never to be visited again. Some needed attention and some needed time. I also smiled, thinking about the voice of God. I did not hear any thunder in the sky; I did not hear the voice of God like Samuel did. I was on my own.  I don't know if those emotions were positive or negative, but they were real. I remember telling myself, then, ‘Congratulations Mrs. Lobo, you have successfully rocked your life in every possible way.

What is the scene today?

Time alone unravels the mysteries of your fears and anxiety. I always told my team one thing and the same applies to me, you are the best judge of your situation both personally and professionally and only you can make decisions for yourself since you know your circumstances better than I do. I keep that in my head always. With Ron in hand and four months up, some of those doubts have just vanished into thin air.  I’m trying to get help and am constantly looking out for somebody good whom I can hire to look after my kiddies. I am back at work and trying to shut my ears to things that earlier worried me. Yes, I am trying to find the earth beneath my feet. I am juggling between my elder and the younger child and trying all possible concoctions to keep at least one of them happy at a given time. In short, I’m trying everything possible big or small to keep the ball rolling.  

In all this, I am trying not to forget ‘me’ and what I want to do. As for the fear I had about having the second child, it has vanished. The anxiety is there but the fear has vanished. My best friend told me, ‘Cres, each child brings its own destiny, we are makeshift providers till then’. I believe in what she said. I will do my best and leave the rest in the Maker’s hand. BTW, Max is just himself, a doting father. I have never spoken to him about his fears. I think just like me, he would have dealt with his.

As for Ron, baby, the minute I held you in my hand, I knew that I was connected to you in a spiritual way. The void that I felt in my heart has vanished. The good Lord hasn't just completed my family but above all completed ‘me’. Baby Ron, this one is for you:

Heart beats fast

Colors and promises

How to be brave

How can I love when I'm afraid

To fall

But watching you stand alone

All of my doubt

Suddenly goes away somehow

One step closer

(Chorus)

I have died every day

waiting for you

Darlin' don't be afraid

I have loved you for a

Thousand years

I'll love you for a

Thousand more

Read more: Christina Perri - A Thousand Years Lyrics |

The Cotton Candy – ‘Try Me’ Shot

These days it is quite impossible to get Eri to do anything. Given my current state of mind, every non- issue is converted into an issue that possibly requires some amount of firefighting. A simple thing such as ‘Eat your greens’ invites an angry twitch from my 7-year-old. Catering to a newborn with a 7-year-old in tow has now become a gargantuan task.

So last evening, when I asked her to try out a new dish, she pushed my hand aside and said ‘Ma, please don’t force me’. Just as I was about to get into my preachy mode of how children in Africa are deprived of food and so on, something within me kept shrieking ‘it is 8:00 in the evening and you are now talking to a tired, sleepy and a cranky 7-year-old who if pushed to the edge might simply throw a tantrum that I might not be able to handle, especially when my 2.5 month old baby is catnapping’. 

So I decided to do it my mom’s way, I pulled out a chair and sat beside her and narrated something about trying out things before saying a ‘No’. Deep down, I knew that this is one area that I need to work on more than anybody, but I had to get her to listen. And so I told her, “

You know Eri, when I was seven years old, my dad took us to a park for an outing. We made this trip with my uncle’s family. We kids were immersed in our play when we heard my mom calling out our names 
waving out a huge pink cotton ball. Seeing this flashy pink colour, I ran towards her and asked her what it was. She pulled out a small ball and tried feeding me the cotton candy. I took one look at the cottony mess and told her that I did not want to eat pink cotton. She tried persuading me to eat it, but I refused to listen. Taking a cue from me my younger cousin also decided to follow suit and almost spat out the cotton candy which her mom managed to feed her. My dad, an absolute taskmaster was a mute witness to our conversation. He told us to try out the cotton ball as it was sweet. But all of us refused. He told us one thing very firmly that none of us would get any goodies later even if we were hungry. I knew my dad meant business, but a seven year immersed in play couldn’t care less.

After we finished our play, we slowly began to realize that our tummies were growling. I went to my mom and told her that I was hungry. My mom pulled out the cotton candy, which was now only a tiny ball and coaxed me to try it. With no energy left, I decided to try it out. I popped the ball into my mouth only to realize that this stuff tastes divine. Now that I knew how it tasted, I so badly wanted my dad to buy me one. But dad being ‘my’ dad, very sternly replied ‘I asked you three times to try it out and all three times you refused. Now, the only thing you get is your dinner’. I never dared to question my dad. I knew that he wouldn’t give in. On our way back home that evening, all I could think of was the wonderful cotton candy that I refused to try out. If only I knew that the cottony mess tasted divine, I would probably be the happiest child. Looking at my sunken face, my dad taught me the very first lesson that till date I find hard to digest. He said to a very hungry, sleepy and a cranky 7-year-old kid, “Never say no before you try anything. You never know what’s in store for you, give it a shot”.

Now that I finished my tale, I asked my attentive 7-year-old about what this incident taught her. She did not say a word; she quietly took a small helping of the dish only to ask me for an extra helping later. I am no advocate on this topic as I have my daily struggles with the ‘Try Me’ shots. So I will keep it short, be it trying out a new dish, or delivering your first speech or trying out a new outfit, there is always a first time for everything. These ‘Try Me’ shots might someday simply contribute to the big picture of our very being, if not, then it becomes a part of our journey :D.

And yes, Eri hugged me snug after her dinner last night and told me that she would first try things out before she decides to say a big ‘no’. This brings to mind another topic about ‘choices’. Now this requires some reading and skill. So until next time, I will keep trying the ‘Try Me’ shot :D.

Hold On!

Get a hold, don’t let go

Times are changing as you know

The life that is yours will never be gone

Just look around and wipe away the frown

It is often easy to surrender

Those senseless battles of mind over matter

When you think you should pack and retreat

Hold on, there are few hardships that you cannot beat

Alter the sail and face the wind,

When the spirit is strong, there is no impede

For no bad times last forever

It has to change, for the better

Memories are there sometimes to hound

It is just lost time that can never be found

Take a few and leave the rest

Hold on for life to change from better to best

The wedding band

“You know what?? this is not how it was meant to be” I mumbled as I removed my wedding band and flung it on my hubby. I said this not so modest statement a couple of years ago to which Max replied “I guess you’ll realize the value of the ring only when it is gone”.

A couple of days ago, while at work, I realized that my band was missing. I looked around and couldn’t find it. I was in a different office when this happened. I immediately called my colleagues and asked them to look for it. They looked around and so did I. I can’t express what I went through that day. I contacted the security and gave them a description of my ring. I felt utterly helpless. I called up mom and with a heavy heart told her about the ring. Mom said it was not auspicious to lose a wedding band. She said, it is better to get another band done and get it blessed asap. I came home and pulled out my drawer and started looking for the ring high and low but of no avail. I then told Max about what had happened to which in a boy like glee he prophesized “Oh! I think that kind of ends our marriage”. I turned a deaf year to what he had to say.

Eight years of my marriage started playing in front of my eyes that night. I looked at my barren ring finger and thought if only I could get rid of a crazy cultivated habit of moving rings from one finger to another; I would still have my ring in my hand. I could barely sleep.

I said three Hail Mary’s and continued praying profusely. The next morning, I had a quick word with the security who threw up their hands and said that the cleaning committee had finished duty and now it was close to impossible to locate the ring. I pressed them to look for it. I got into the office shuttle and continued praying. With absolutely no hope, I continued staring at my empty finger. As we were passing by the St. Antony church, I prayed, “please God please, I’ll light three candles I promise, I will never take anything for granted”. I reached my work place and pulled out the chair, I saw something roll and daintily fall on the floor. I ignored it. Something made me turn back and look again. I was amazed. Lo and behold! My ring was on the floor. I can’t express what I felt. I was elated. I thanked God and promised to pay up the bribe asap.

That evening, when I got back home, I pulled Max closer and told him “I guess, you are not that lucky, you will still have me for your wife, in good times and in bad….” As I trailed off with the half-baked wedding vows, I could see my husband smile his boy like smile perhaps thinking, ‘What luck!!!’

Eri's pearls from last week

A dear friend of mine jotted down Eri's animated conversation to one of his friends. He shared the excerpts of that mail with me.
Thanks pal! Makes me wanna write.

On Wed, Sep 22, 2010 at 3:37 PM, Hemanth Pradeep wrote:

Cres and I were yakking when Eri starts tugging at her for attention, saying something
Cres: 'Eri.. ..how many times I've told you, when two adults are speaking you shouldn't interrupt...'
Eri: 'But I'm also speaking like an adult only no mama...'

Eri gleefully doodles on the door with a crayon. Her Dad screams in horror. Mom is still blissfully in the shower. A while later, the little princess is being coaxed by the maid for dinner while Mom happens to pass by the door and throws an understandable fit. The little lady is immediately engrossed in her dinner and tv, turning a deaf ear to all the screaming.

'Eri, who did this?', Mom presses for a confession. 'Am angry with you Mama, am not speaking to you, go!', comes the googly out of nowhere....
Cres stands helplessly akimbo saying 'Excuse me Madam, you don't tell me what I'm supposed to do...I'm the one who should be angry!'...... I couldn't help being in splits!

Maxim was to take Eri to the doc and everyone was tricking her into putting on a sweater.
I tried my way 'Eri you look pretty in the sweater..'.
She wasn't really buying it and yanking it off, said, 'No uncle, I look hot hot in the sweater!'...
I managed to look away and guffawed. Cres was on the chair cracking a smile. Maxim couldn't suppress his grin and corrected 'Putha, you feel hot hot in the sweater!'

Penny thoughts

La Familia

So, my beautiful life in Mangalore, I will have to let you go. But, I will fondly cherish you, hold you dear to my heart. If I had to have my way, I wouldn't have let you go but life is calling.

I don't write often. I write when I feel like and that kind of explains the delay. I grew up in the 'Monteiro' household. A house, (correction home) named 'Nandan' where my identity exists. Where I remember growing up with my grand parents. The best days of my life.

The house was always full, with Dad's brothers/sister and their families. My life although revolved around the visits of my cousins which I so looked forward to. We shared a love-hate relationship. We often tried to outdo the other. We played endlessly in the busting heat of Mangalore. We were mean and manipulative; at the same time caring and protective. Since we are sixteen grandchildren on my dad's side we were divided into various groups. Within these groups we liked some and hated some. At the end of the day all was well and the next day we started on a new note. I can't forget the trips that we made to my aunt's house in Urwa, or taking orders from the ring master my eldest cousin, or bullying the smaller ones, carrying them, flaunting them, or singing lullabies for the little ones, or making every uncle who came down from the Gulf buy ice cream from Classy, or praying for the thunder storms to stop, or dosing off during prayers, or going to my aunt's house for Kannada tuitions or playing seven tiles and endless other outdoor games. The tears, the joys, the list is endless.

Why-o-why am I writing about all this? Perhaps because my little girl will not have all this. Her life will be a hankey dovey 'I-ME-MYSELF'. She will grow ignorant typical of the generation next. I can only try to tell her that Mamma's cousin this one and that. Nothing beyond that I guess.

I love the idea of a joint family. Yes, I do. I kind of grew in one.

I speak for myself: It is very different now, we are such a nuclear setup, all of us engrossed in our own little world. Acknowledging or rather failing to acknowledge each other. Waiting for the other to make the first move. Well, the ego trip is endless.;-).

I wish I could re-live a few golden moments with my grandparents and cousins
again. I can write pages and pages about my growing up years, but then one cannot cling on to the past forever. So dear-ole-me, close your eyes and I will kiss you; tomorrow , I will miss you...

Talk: That is changing

When Boy Dylan sang 'The Times: They Are A-changin', he definitely meant it in a different context, but the line has always caught my eye. The reason being; whenever I meet my friends, I realize that so much has changed. I remember the talks we had when we were in our teens, it always revolved around studies, future, parents, lecturers, clothes, food, books, shopping, movies, and boys. That was an age that called for such talks. When we reached our final year of education, we started dwindling with what to do next. Do we further our studies, or work? The next three months we busied ourselves in finding out the admission process to different colleges, and universities. So quite obviously our talks revolved around admissions, entrance exams, fees, etc.

As time passed, our talks started getting a little more serious; we discussed about marriage, love, career, expectations out of life, and much more. Often in a very philosophical sense. Our curiosity for what life probably had in store for us never ceased to exist. As each one of us settled into marital bliss, our talks steered towards the art of home making, cooking, outings, and above all husbands.

Gradually, we discussed about pregnancy, the different stages of pregnancy, and the anxiety that came with it. Then it was babies, burps, bottles, sleepless nights, diapers, vaccination, maids, doctors and a whole lot of things that revolve around them. Today, when some of us are dwindling with schools, and admissions; some of my friends have new born in their midst when some of their children are well settled in school.

What next? I will update as time passes (optimistic approach). When more than a quarter of my life is over, I look forward to the other bit that may possibly include studies, raising kids, the so called mid life crisis, job, finances, health, and the scary bit of life; old age.

I remember reading in one of the editions of 'Readers Digest' many years back and this has stayed with me ever since; that if anything changes it is the circumstances around us and as people we respond to it differently and that itself is 'change'.

P.S: The various talks that we discuss always cross paths. According to me, it is at a particular phase in life that we tend to delve deeply on a few talks(a little more than the rest).

Too big for her boots

The little lady starts school next month. I know I'm sounding silly, but the fact that I have to now send her to school is overwhelming. No adventures off late; thankfully!!! But a lot of chitter chatter fills my day and my night. She loves to narrate stories. It is a different thing that her stories don't get past the 'One-dayyyyy....one-dayyy' mode. But when you tell her that she is being captured on a camera, then her talent for telling stories unfolds. "One day there was one Ali Baba....he went to the jungle...to meet a ferocious lion....he said 'open sesame' and the door opened.... Drrrrrrr dish"; yes, with sound effects, two different stories clubbed into one et al.

Oh yes, she wants to get married. We attended a cousins wedding for which Eri was the flower girl. I guess she is just carried away with the nice flowy white, the flowers and glitz attached with weddings. When we got back, she announced "Dada, I want to get married". I chocked on a small piece of bread, while Max couldn't suppress a smile and added "We'll start looking out for one".

She knows how to get her way out, but then most children these days are smarter than what we were as kids. I guess its in their genes. This reminds me, One day my cousin told her "See Erika, don't pull out the kitchen utensils, mamma will shout"; to which she replied "These are not mammas vessels, they are Renu's vessels". Renu is our domestic help. Well, she is not wrong in saying so, Renu spends more time with her and in the kitchen than I do. That's observation.

Eri now realises the difference between good and bad. 'I'm a bad woman, mama. Sorry mamma!!! I won't do it again'. If she is being admonished, she is quick to check:

Eri: Are you a nice mamma?
Me: I can be bad if I want to Eri, you know Ms. Cruella.
Eri: You are not Cruella, you are Bougainvillea mamma. I can't even spell the name correctly and she can say it clearly. I guess that's rentention.

She loves the uptoten.com website, in one of the sing songs, she points out at the big duck and says "This is dada duck, this is mamma duck and this is bebo duck". That's information mapping. Something that comes to kids naturally.

The other day, I just wanted to cuddle her, so I told her "DOlly, I'm going to eat you up, I start from your head",just then her dad called to check on her. She has to answer her dad's calls, she has an uncanny way of figuring out his calls. She sprints to the phone picks up the receiver and says "Dada, mamma is eating up my head". Now what does that convey?


Well, such are kids. What goes with the goose does not necessarily go with the gander. SIGH!!! When she starts school, I'm sure I'll have more interesting tales to tell, a lot to listen. Soon she will have her set of friends, her priorities, and something that as a mother I wish for my own selfish reasons, doesn't happen too soon, her own life.

Girl in me

I look at the mirror,
Reach for a wet cloth,
I clean it with vigor;
It seems like a black spot.
I bent a little closer,
And strain my eyes to see,
I step back in horror;
It is not the mirror but me.

It is hitting me hard now,
To see a passing phase.
The charm that I once wore,
Has now been replaced.
I see fine lines on my face,
That makes me look demure;
From within I feel like a girl,
Wearing a mask that is mature.

Changing faces:

Mom and I:
When I was a little girl, I would stand by the mirror with my mouth wide open and watch mom apply lipstick and skillfully do up her face. She would wipe her face clean, dab some compact, apply some lipstick and was ready to go. To me, she was the most beautiful woman. Just like every little girl, I too would pull down her sarees, scarfs, and shoes. I would haphazardly drape the saree and then apply some of her lipstick and dab a puff full of powder on my face. Did I look pretty? Ask me no questions and I will tell no lies. Someone could easily sign off their name on the layers of powder that I dabbed on my face. I stood hours admiring myself in front of the mirror. The scene was no different when I grew into my teens, but this time around, mom was no longer my role model. She was growing old and our tastes often clashed. She would say 'white' and I would say 'black'. She would say 'yes' to lace and I would say 'no'. We had nothing in common. While in school, I remember someone complimenting my mom and calling her my elder sister. I was hopping mad at my mom. That was an age when I wanted no comparison at all. I always asked mom never to patronize me.


Daughter and I:
I was dressing up for a party and applying some lipstick. Eri was standing beside me watching my reflection in the mirror with her mouth wide open. After dabbing some lipstick, I pursed my lips to make sure it spread well. Just then the telephone rang and I went out of the room to attend it. When I returned, I couldn't believe my eyes, Eri was imitating me. All kids do. She applied some lipstick all over her face and pursed her lips. She then took my scarf and put in around her and gave herself an approving look. Did she look pretty? Ask me no questions, and I will tell no lies. It hit me hard, I surely was her role model and don't know for how long I will be. But I know, some day, she might just turn around and say 'Ma, I'm old enough, don't patronize me'.

GULP! I'll soon be eating my own words.

Club day

It was a lovely Sunday morning, Max and I were heading to Club Cabana. After a nice morning breakfast, we lazed around for sometime. Max and his friends decided to check out the water park. I was just not interested in doing those water rides. I saw the mad rush at the wave pool and decided to sit by the kiddie pool.

I waved out at Max as he was trying to out do the waves. I smiled seeing the child like glee on his face. Reminded me of our trip to Singapore soon after wedding. It was a turbulent flight. It was pouring cats and dogs during take off, the plane shuddered. My nails dived into Max's arms. I asked Max if he knew how to swim and he said 'yes'. 'Good for me'', I thought. If the plane crashes now my man shall save me. ' Yes, I can manage to save myself in a crisis situation', he said. Well, so much for being optimistic I thought. A group of kids were having a fun time splashing water at each other. I decided to take a break and walk around the club. I hit the spa counter. Just next to the spa was a nice small hall where some good music was being played. I walked into the place, a lot of kids were taking turn and walking down the ramp. I decided that its some fun kids show, and pulled a chair and sat down. A lot of curious eyes were staring at me, like I cared. I was there to have fun and was going to enjoy myself. My ears turned towards the fizz of the coke bottle. I was parched. I went and helped myself to some coke. A lady standing at the corner continued staring at me, and two other women followed suit. This time all three ladies joined the big stare. Well, I saw two ladies helping themselves to a piece of cake and jamun. I walked to dessert table and helped myself to a big slice of cake and jamun. I skillfully removed the cherry from the cake and all the extra cream and settled in a cozy chair. As I dug into my piece of cake, I saw a little boy walk in with his dad and mom. Ah! The perfect family. The little boy walked and a few event moderators asked him to walk down the ramp. The new entrants were seated right beside me. The lady looked at me quizzically. I just gave her a faint smile. I saw the lady pull out a nice gift wrapped in a gift paper. She called out to her son who just finished his cat walk and asked him to wish the birthday boy. I was half way through my cake. I couldn't believe my ears. Apparently, a private party was being hosted at the club. Gosh! Wrong place , wrong time. How was I to know? No birthday banner, no caps, no whistles.Not my fault. What do I do? How do I make the grand escape without looking like an idiot. If only I had the powers, I would freeze the world go by.

Everything else fell in place, the ushers weren't event moderators, they were the host. The cat walk was a warm up session for the kids before the big celebration begun. Half the damage was already done, I not only entered the place, helped myself to a glass of coke and almost downed half a cake. I couldn't eat anymore. I slowly slipped the plate under the chair and started walking to the door, there was a guy following me, no sooner I exited, they slammed the door after me. I felt like an absolute idiot. I wanted to return home but Max and his friends were having a ball at the water park, so I just let it be.

Eri's Giant Panda

As I walked into my home lugging my office bag in one hand and my laptop in another, my little toddler ran towards me and embraced me, she threw her little hands around my legs and doodled “ I double youuuuuuuuuuu”. I replied, “ I x. y.z you tooooooooooooo”. She flashed me a big smile, showing signs of a good afternoon nap. 'I double you' meant 'I love you'. I was teaching her how to say 'I love you' and the little lady associated 'love you' with the alphabet 'w'. So every time she says 'I w”; I reply “ I x.y.z you too”. Then she pointed out at my bag and said, “Mamma, lappot”. I quipped “ Yes sweet heart, mamma's laptop”.

As her mindless babbles and chitter chatter fills the air, I rest my stiff body on the couch. But my little lady was in no mood to let me laze. She brought her pair of shoes, pointed at the door and said “ Mamma, tata we'll go, getput (get up)”. That was the last thing I wanted to hear after a long day at work. I told her “ Eri, mamma's tired”. She chirped “ fever got???”, and gently placed her tiny palm on my forehead. I said “No Munchkin, I'm just tired”. Being tired is not a good enough excuse to rest on your honchos, so she asked again, “ Tata we'll go”. Not being able to refuse, I threw some fresh set of clothes on her and freshened up. All dressed, she lugged her best pal Teddy along with her out of the door. I said “ Eri, we are not taking Teddy with us”. She threw up a small fit. I sternly told her “ It's either Teddy or you”. She clung on for two minutes. She knew I meant business, she finally let go of her teddy. She kissed her teddy and looked at me and drooled “ Teddy, not there??”. I knew this was one her tricks to send me on a guilt trip. I politely said 'NO'. We headed to the nearest mall. I was really tired, and Eri was fresh as a cucumber. She unleashed her new found knowledge “ Bike, Cooter(Scooter), Aato rikisha, Car, Tee(tree), Kie (Sky), Cow, Goat, Uncle, Aunty, Leaf, birdy, Butterfly, Apple, Papaya”. All I could say was 'yes Sweet Heart', wondering when she would actually say 'Czhecoslovakia'.

We reached the toy floor of the mall. Eri was ecstatic. No, she was not interested in the toys, she just wanted to run around the racks and bring down a couple of things. This was the same mall, where she brought down a whole rack of CD's a couple of months ago. The manager came running; seeing them Eri flashed the most angellic smile ever. I told her that if she broke anything I would make sure I recovered the expenses from her savings. The manager melted and he let us off the hook. My reverie broke when Eri sent me on a wild goose hunt, she was all over the place, trying to balance on her toes and pull down the rocking horse positioned on top of a cradle. My heart skipped a couple of beats. I ran and pulled her behind. She wasn't too happy. She twitched her eyebrows.

Then she ran towards the stack of soft toys, and was pulling down every other teddy, 'Winnie the pooh bear', she screamed. It was Garfield and Tigger's turn next. She rattled off every cartoon characters name she knew. I was just silently praying that she doesn't ask me for anything. Then suddenly out of the blue, something caught her eye. 'Mamma, Giant Panda' she cooed. I couldn't spot the giant panda. She pointed out. I said, ' No you silly, its a Dalmatian dog'. She insisted, this time a little more louder 'Giant Pnada waaaaannnnt'. I saw another couple standing behing me checking out the toy stack. I was not going to give in to the whimps and fancies of a one year old. I didn't want to be called one of those mothers who couldn't handle her children. 'No Eri , its a dalmatian' I quipped. The sales guy, who was standing right behing me assisting two other couples looked at me and said ' M'am, the kid is right, it's not a dalmatian, it is a giant panda'. My face turned a shade of crimson. The one year, seven month old kid could identify the toy right, and her mother was calling it a dalmatian. I could hear the couple behind me giggle. I just wanted to vanish into thine air.

To add to my woes, the sales man pulled down the giant panda and handed it over to Eri. One of their usual tactics to get the toy hooked to the kid. My little lady planted a big kiss on the panda's lip. The Panda cost 750 Rs. I wasn't prepared to shell a couple of hundreds for a medium sized black and white potch, all because, Eri found it cute. I took one look at the panda and its pricing and told Eri, 'Darling, lets buy you a squirrel'. 'Noooooooooo panda' she said. I couldn't give her a tight whack as I was in a public place. Eri was assertive. She did not succumb to the pressure. Her grip around her panda tightened everytime I tried to engage her in a conversation. I made futile attempts to pull the panda out of her embrace. Annoyed, I called up my husband and told him, "Listen Mitch, your daughter wants a teeny weeny Panda that costs 750 bucks..", he didn't wait for me to complete "Buy her the Panda, it's okay" he said. I could feel my blood pressure rising " Sure thing hubby dear. Do remember to replenish my bank account" saying so,I hung up.

I tried to pull the toy out her hand, this time with a little more force. The little tot fought back to save the love of her life, but of no avail. Ms. Cruella was at her cruel best. By the very virtue of being a little more stronger, I won the tug of war. She howled a little but eventually forgot about the toy.

Eri has now forgotten about the Panda. She is back to playing with her old buddies. This is one battle I won, I don't know how many will I lose in future. ;-).

Five Lessons Learnt ( cut to life):

Lesson 1: Never let yourself be influenced by the wrong forces.
Context: I was a bright student in school. I was seated next to a talkative girl to set a good example for her. Instead of me influencing her for the better, she influenced me for the worse. I started talking in class. Slowly my grades started slipping. Seeing my grades, my Math teacher commented “Don't be like the axe that cut the sandal wood tree, but be like the sandal wood which spreads its perfume to the axe that cut it raw”. That was the last time I found myself talking in class.

Lesson 2: Be reasonable.
Context: I wanted an expensive pair of boots. My mom refused to buy me one because I had three pairs of shoes that were lying unattended. She reminded me of what my teacher said in Class IX “A man complained that he did not have a neat pair of shoes, until he saw a person with no legs”.

Lesson3: Being confident helps.
Context: My DBMS professor questioned me on Fuzzy logic. I felt the earth beneath me being ripped part. A lot of people who had their viva before mine, didn't score too well. I rattled everything that I knew about fuzzy logic in five minutes with a lot of confidence. Deep down I knew that I would score a big zero because I had no answer to his question. At the end of the session, my professor said “ Lady, you did not convince me, but you certainly have me confused. I give you marks for your confidence”. I passed out the paper with flying colors.

Lesson 4: Never waste food.
Context: I threw a plate full of food into the bin at a house warming ceremony. A construction workers daughter, immediately picked my plate from the bin and started eating from it. I couldn't believe my eyes. My soul stirred. I don't waste food anymore.

Lesson 5: Accept a compliment gracefully.
On being complimented for a speech that I made at the Sunday school, I said “Oh! I don't think I did a good job”. To which my Sunday school teacher replied “ Learn to accept a compliment gracefully, say 'Thank You' if you must, but don't doubt the other persons judgement. Besides, in accepting compliments, the person is actually complimenting your creator”. Point taken.

Petal

Gentle caress, treat you mild,
Immaculate beauty so fragile;
Tender cluster of the bud,
Cling to pore for life galore.

Shimmering attire of the flower,
Firm you stand against all power.
Live to see the morning light,
Glorious surrender to the night.

Gracefully wither from the soul,
Touch the earth, and make it whole.
Now in peace, you lay to rest,
Humble life, at its best.

My Big Black Feather

As a child, I remember having a flair for feathers. I maintained an album book with different feathers. I had no great knowledge about birds, yet I collected their feathers with great zeal.
I had two peacock feathers and was striving hard to complete the trinity. I had feathers of all shades; pink, green, red, and white. I distinctly remember having this pink feather which had a little extension to it, I called it baby feather. Somebody once told me, that applying talcum powder and hard pressing these feathers in a note book has great effect on feathers. I never questioned their intellect. My only objective was to have a hundred feathers. Hundred was a big number then.
I used to take a generous helping of my grandmas 'Yardley' powder and sprinkle a little on every page of my book. I would then hard press these feathers in my note book and patiently wait for the baby feathers to grow. Every Sunday, I would religiously open my album book and check if these feathers were there. To my eyes, the feathers looked bigger, every time I opened it.
One day, I took my album book to school. I exchanged a few feathers with my friends in school. A lot of them wanted my pink feather. A friend of mine was ready to trade her peacock feather for my king sized pink feather. But the pink feather was my priced possession. The peacock feather could wait. On my way back home, I met my cousin, who was quite boisterous. I proudly opened my album book and displayed the feathers to her. In a blink, the feather was gone. She pulled it out of my album book and ran for her dear life. I chased her for quite a distance, but of no avail. Tears rolled down my cheek, and before I knew it, I was howling away to glory. A lot of my grandmas well wishers, and curious onlookers, stopped by to find out what the matter was. With all the sniveling, I could barely speak. Finally, I reached home. My grandpa took one look at me and thought that I was sick. He let me settle down. I poured out my heart to him. That night, I was inconsolable. I told my grandpa that he should admonish my cousin for stealing my feather. My grandpa never took sides. He simply nodded his head.
The next day when I returned from school, my grandpa seemed excited. He had a gift for me. I remember feeling happy from within. What more could a broken hearted kid of eight ask for. He instantly pulled out a big black feather and handed it over to me. This big black feather had a soft baby feather attached to it. One look at it, my smile withered. I loved the feather, but I hated the colour. My granpa told me that this feather was unique and nobody else would have it. That night I was a happy child.
Next day, I proudly displayed the feather to my friends in school. Everybody wanted a look at my priced possession. My class teacher stopped by listening to the racket we were making. One of the girls shouted out , “Miss, Cresilla has got a big black feather, Miss”.
My teacher walked up to me and asked me for my feather. I felt the blood rush to my cheek. My only worry was that if the teacher liked the big black feather, then she would take it. With a stone on my heart, I pulled out the feather from my album book. One look at it, and she announced, “Children, that's a crows feather. Haven't you seen a crow?”. The whole class burst out laughing.
Suddenly I felt my hands and legs turning cold. I couldn't believe my ears. My grandpa, actually got me a crows feather. I was totally miffed. I went home, and refused to talk to my grandpa. My grandpa seemed upset. All he said was “ I'm sorry, I didn't want you to cry”.
Today, when I reminisce, I can't help but smile. My grandpa indeed had a heart of gold. He was so caring. My fetish for collecting feathers wilted away, but my grand fathers love will remain in my heart forever.

To Mom, with love - > Part II

I was nonchalantly telling my mom that I have been putting off buying a watch for quite some time; her immediate reaction was “See, I have two new watches, you can take one of them, and I can settle down for the less pricey one. You need the watch more than I do”. I felt a lump forming in my throat. I thought to myself, I'm old enough to buy a watch for myself and yet here's my mom who just got herself a new watch and is ready to part ways with it. That's the power of a mothers love, it cannot be measured. And, then there is my grandma, who never forgets to ask me “So, what do you want from Mangalore?”. By the very virtue of being a mom, these women, have always learnt to give, never expecting anything in return. I could never fathom this unconditional love, until I had my own child.
From the time, I learnt that I was pregnant, I felt a spring in every step I took. The long awaited good news was finally ringing in my ear, head and very being. My joy knew no bound. I thanked God profusely and prayed that the little one be safe. My prayer for the safety of my child in my womb was an eye opener. I had begun to realize the power of unconditional love.

To Mom, with love -> Part I

I dedicate this space to all mom's and to those who are treading the path:

A lot has been, is and will be said about mommies, it is one topic that all of us can easily connect with. Yet, I choose to write about a few things that thugged my heart when my daughter was born. I'm sure you too will be able to relate to a few things. After all, how different can a mom's world be.

You know,

• Her heart melted when you cooed.


• Her heart and mind, feels and thinks that you are the best.


• Her heart accepts you the way you are, with all your short comings.


• Her heart is uneasy when you are in trouble.


• Her heart aches when yours' breaks.


• Her heart knows no bias.

Above all, she always will have a prayer on her lip for 'YOU'.

Tryst with Destiny

In troubled times when I seek out,
I know not where to go and how;
I see no beam, I see no hope;
I still cling on and won’t let go.
An earnest endeavor, I make,
To break free from the mandate;
Precarious the path may be,
But, that’s my tryst with destiny.
Beyond the sublime ray of light,
I launch a novel flight;
Providence will soon smile on me,
As I make my own destiny.