Sunday, November 22, 2015

Rajkahini - A review



There's love,
There's fight...
There's stooping low,
And soaring to a height.
The shame and the pain,
The utter disdain,
The blood, the tears...
The hidden fears.
It makes you look back,
It makes you look away...
And it gets so dark,
You can't tell night from day.
It's a story,
Of a time
That scarred us for life.
It's a movie with a soul
That will stay with us for a while.

It's corny!

One of my favourite childhood memories is of buying roasted corn from the roadside vendor who sat outside our apartment building many evenings. Sprinkled with salt and lemon, it was a delicacy bought with our pocket money. Sitting on the common staircase of the building and chatting away with friends until nightfall... we relished every bite. Then came the fancy little stalls at the big shopping malls, which sold buttered corn in paper cups, served with spoons. They did taste good...but were no match to the corn cobs of our childhood, rustic and charred. Reliving one such evening in our backyard today and wondering "why we ever grew up!".

Sunday, October 11, 2015

Mahalaya 2015


Those who know me, know how precious Mahalaya is to me. It needs to be celebrated…it needs to be special. With Ma here with us Down Under, it was already special. We just had to figure out a way to celebrate it.

Not trusting a Monday to bring out the best in us, we dedicated the Sunday (yesterday) to the celebrations. After the little girl of the house had her share of fun at her first swimming lesson this term, we decided to “properly” inaugurate our new kitchen (yes, we moved into our new home a couple of weeks back). Nothing spells “special” more than “crab curry” made from scratch. Not for me, anyway. So the head chef “A” got straight to business, while I entertained the little girl with stories of crabs (trying my best to think of an ending where the creatures did not end up on a dinner plate).

If they made crab-curry scented candles or incense sticks, I would buy them (sounds gross….but that’s how divine the aroma was in the kitchen)! I couldn’t believe it was his first attempt at the dish! We licked our plates clean and sat at the dining table feeling content and happy. Our Mahalaya celebration was a huge success, as far as I am concerned.

However, it wasn’t complete until I heard Chandipath at dawn. So, last night, speakers were set up in the hallway, equidistant from our master bedroom and the guest bedroom, so that neither Ma nor I (“A” doesn’t care anyway) would miss any of it. And at dawn, the much-loved voice of Birendra Krishna Bhadra filled our home and our hearts. And my childhood memories of this day played in my mind….with images of Baba, the pink bougainvillea tree in our little front garden, the sandalwood incense sticks that Ma used to light every day, visits to my uncle’s place to meet our favourite cousins and nieces/nephews, and of course, a cupboard full of new clothes and shoes, carefully stacked in the order in which they would be worn during Pujo.

And when I turned to give the little girl a cuddle in her sleep, I saw a pair of eyes wide open in amazement. It wasn’t a usual morning, she had figured. But looked like she was trying to get her head around the sounds she could hear from the hallway. After a few minutes, she said to me “Dida crying”! And “A” and I burst out in laughter.  To her, Chandipath sounded like Dida (grandma) was crying in the hallway. So we squeezed her in joy and assured her that Dida was fine.
And so, from now on, Mahalaya will not just make me smile. It will make me laugh too.

Tuesday, June 16, 2015

We have an eye-surgeon in the making!

My two-year old is showing great potential as an eye-surgeon. The precision with which she reaches for our cornea, with no lights to aid her (early morning 4 am is pretty dark in winter) and the dexterity of those nimble hands with which she keeps our eyelids open...is no mean feat.
Using her nails - first to repeatedly apply pressure (local anaesthesia) and then as surgical tools to make fine incisions, she is a natural!

As far as punctuality and reliability goes, she has no match. Be it summer or winter...come rain or early morning mist, she is up every day (before the sun or the birds), to dive straight into the job.

I may be "blind" with motherly love, but my two-year old is cut out to be an eye-surgeon.

Wednesday, April 8, 2015

10 Things No One Told Me I Could Do to Prepare Myself for a Toddler



Having shared the 15 Things No One Told Me I Could Do to Prepare for Motherhood, I thought I needed to continue the journey. So here’s my sequel…

If you have managed your pregnancy well and did a reasonable job at managing your newborns/infants, you probably think you've got it figured. 

News flash! You've just seen the trailer. And as is typical of trailers, they get you excited about the movie (with clever editing and terrific background score) but watching the movie is something else!
So here’s the thing. Toddlers are babies on steroids. If babies cry, toddlers screech. If babies wriggle like octopus, toddlers jump like red kangaroos (fastest jumpers among mammals – 56km/hr). If babies break things within their reach, toddlers rampage through the house (and sometimes the entire neighbourhood/shopping centre/friends’ houses). If babies are fussy eaters, toddlers go on hunger strike. If babies are fun, toddlers are a party!

Here’s what having a super active toddler has taught me:
  1. Don’t stress about being overweight. When people ask me how I have lost so much weight lately, I usually tell them that I have joined a gym that is open 24x7, has no membership fee, and has designed the most personalised and extreme boot camps for me. Of course, I am only referring to the fact that I have a toddler at home, who is my personal gym. So all you new mums struggling to get rid of your pregnancy weight, hang in there. Your own personal gym is under construction. They’ll make you run, hop, skip, jump, squat, push up, dance, stand on your head or do full locusts. At the end of it all, even the Scorpion Handstand will feel like relaxation. 
  2. Be outdoor more often. Take them for picnics, beach, BBQ, zoo, parks…anywhere. Mother Nature is far more interesting and accommodating to them, than indoors.  Avoid spending your weekends at friend’s/relatives houses. Even if they love kids (or your kid in particular). Not unless you were planning to take them off your friends list anyway. Toddlers are curious creatures. A new house full of new things to break/damage/explore is their dream! 
  3. Do not take them shopping. The sight of shopping trolleys, rows of shelves neatly stacked with colourful items, announcements over the Public Address (PA) systems, other kids in prams, LED message displays, animated billboards….do strange things to their brains. Is this based on any scientific study? I hear you ask. No. But am sure of it. As sure of it as I am about the fact that my child becomes possessed in shopping centres. Of course there are those perfectly well behaved kids who hold their mummy’s hand when walking, sit quietly in their prams, never put eleven different types of chicken corn soup in mummy’s trolley and never roll on the floor wanting to buy a broom. But I don’t have one of them. My little girl is a delightful personality….but let’s say that she is not her charming best at the shops.
  4. Don’t stress about their meals. People who know me, know that my toddler doesn't eat. Because I told them. Not once. Several times. I have become the kind of person people avoid at parties…because they have nothing new to talk about. Yes, I stress about my child not eating. And when I say “not eating”, I don’t mean “not eating as much as she should” or “not eating as much as I would like her to”. I mean “not eating”. Full stop. They call her a “plant” at day care, because they think she survives on photosynthesis. Her carer told me that in her 22 yrs of child care experience, she hadn't seen anyone like her i.e. someone who survives literally with no food all day, and has no lack of energy. That’s how they concluded that she must be a plant. Anyway, the point is, it’s normal to get stressed about their nutrition. But don’t let it take over your life, so much so that you miss out on all the other things that are going great. I am yet to practise what I preach (this one in particular). But I know I’m trying. And I know that nothing makes me happier than to watch her eat half a cracker on her own.
  5. Accept germs. Toddlers seems to catch many. From day care…or kids at the park…or other friends’ kids. Their immunity isn’t fully developed yet, but it is getting stronger.  Babies/infants usually don’t fall sick so often, because they are not as exposed to those pesky bugs. But toddlers are germ magnets! If it’s out there, rest assured they will catch it. As mums, all we can do is to spot symptoms, see reliable doctors we can trust, be timely with medicines (if prescribed), give lots of cuddles…and be patient. This too shall pass. And before we know, we won’t have to take days off every second week.
  6. Do not compare with other kids. It’s tempting to do so. But don’t. How many times have we heard the “every kid is different” theory? But it’s amazing how often we forget it! Our kids will walk, talk, interact, dance, run, smile at strangers, know their colours and numbers, be toilet trained, grow taller/bigger…all at their own pace. Do you know of any adult who wears a nappy to work or doesn't know their colours (unless they are colour-blind, of course)? So, chill. They will learn everything when it’s the right time for them. Enjoy their journey and stop comparing or rushing them!
  7. Have music handy. Or at least ear plugs. Because there will be noise. Enough noise to make you jump out of your skin. Pots and pans being hit with metal spoons, toy musical instruments that have no volume control, screeches when the television is switched off or the iPad taken away, sirens on toy automobiles, TV remotes being hurled from one end of the room to another. And if there is a group of kids at play, be afraid….be very afraid.
  8. Find your “me” time. Because when you become a mum, you don’t suddenly stop being a person. Of course your kids mean the world to you. But you are not scarring them for life or depriving them in any way if you go for that girls’ night out, or a pedicure or a shopping day. Provided they are in good care (husband, carer, family, friends), you should not feel guilty for pampering yourself with the much-needed (and well deserved) “me” time. When you are back, you’ll be ready to take on the world! And they will love you for it.
  9. Be OK with exposure to technology. Just balance it right. I see a few eyebrows being raised! But let’s face it. Our kids will be exposed to technology, sooner than we like it.  Almost all the kids I know (and I know quite a few), were able to navigate the tablet or smart phone screen before they turned two. What’s important is what they watch…and how long they watch it for. There are some great videos/movies/TV shows out there that entertain a young mind and help it develop. As long as they are not glued to it for hours or watching age-inappropriate content, that TV or iPad is not necessarily their enemy. As long as they don’t think that a book is an iPad that does not work, all is good with the world!
  10. Be a child again. Your child is your last (and perhaps only) chance to be a child again.  So “jump in muddy puddles”, read fairy tales or superhero stories (real books, not on a tablet), build that Lego castle, ride your bicycle as they ride their trikes, pat farm animals, run through the sprinklers, have a tea party under the dining table, go camping, sing out loud, kick that big blue ball, blow bubbles in air, play dress-up, dance to crazy tunes, make sand castles, watch the stars… and relive your childhood with your precious little darlings.


Wednesday, March 25, 2015

An ethical dilemma

Loyalty
Noun | loy-al-ty | \ˈlȯi(-ə)l-tē\
a strong feeling of support or allegiance
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There are fewer wars between countries today, than used to be. The kind of war where troops from two countries are out in the battlefield, fighting a physical battle to claim/defend things (land, natural resources, people etc.) that are important to them. True, there are still some parts of the world battered and bruised by that kind of war. But for the vast majority of countries, there are peaceful negotiations or political deals to resolve conflicts.

In such day and age, what does it mean to be loyal to a country? With concepts like “one world” and “global economy”, geographical boundaries are becoming less significant. The tribe of “born in one country, living/working in another” has multiplied in enormous proportions over the last few decades. Migrants or “economic refugees” (as some like to call it) have taken over the world. I am one of them.

In short, be it lifestyle, education/career opportunities, being close to other family members who have also migrated, being away from certain aspects of our motherland we do not like (and don’t have the mental framework to stay back and change) – whatever our reason, we all made a choice. The choice to move to a country that was not our country of origin. Some of us, have chosen to become permanent residents or citizens of our new homeland. Little wonder that most passports have two distinct fields – Nationality and Place of Birth/Origin. These two fields say a lot about who we are, where we come from, and the journey we have made (literally and spiritually).

And although we take pride in both these countries (at least most of us do, most of the time), every now and then, there is a dilemma. If I was hypnotised and someone asked me where my “home” was, I think I would rattle off the name of the Indian city I grew up in…and not the postal address of my current home in beautiful Australia. Not to say that I don’t love Australia. But I think the deep recesses of my mind haven't still processed or stored the new information – that I am now an Australian by nationality. There is a reason why psychologists go back to our childhood for those deep seated truths we cannot remember or verbalise. Our childhood doesn’t lie or hide.

 I am not sure what citizenship pledges sound like for other countries. But I know that on the day I gave up my Indian citizenship (unfortunately, dual citizenship is still a concept for us) and took up the Australian nationality, I read these lines:


And I think there is a reason why “loyalty” (meaning “true and constant support to Australia and its people”, as per the citizenship website), is the first thing I was asked to pledge. Because no one can take it from me, unless I pledge/want to give it. Loyalty can’t be enforced.

So, on this important day, as India and Australia prepare for the semi-finals of the Cricket World Cup 2015, I am in a strange dilemma. I have received strange looks and have been laughed at when I shared this dilemma with other Australians of Indian origin. Of the responses I have got, some are:

 -  Once an Indian, always an Indian at heart. Go India!
 -  It’s a sport; we can choose any team to support. Doesn't have to do with loyalty to country. It is loyalty to team!
 - May the best team win.
 - We’ll be a winner either way, no matter who wins.


And while I love the last answer, it doesn't help me with my dilemma. Who would I cheer for when the match is on? I can’t jump in joy when an Australian wicket falls….and then celebrate again when an Indian batsman leaves the field. It is, unfortunately, an “either/or” situation. A dual citizenship, (although no more than a piece of paper to some), would make it easier for me. I would scream my lungs out in public, with no guilt, no shame in cheering for any one team (as both would then, equally and officially define me). But until that happens, an India-Australia match is never going to be just a game for me.


Thursday, February 5, 2015

The divine creamy crust





The baingan bharta-inspired walk down memory lane was so enjoyable that I set out for a new one today. This time, I tried to replicate that sweet, creamy dessert that's become synonymous with birthdays in Bengal. Long before cakes and candles were in vogue, a bowl full of "payesh" (rice pudding) was considered to be a warm hug from Mum/Grandmum on our birthdays. It wasn't a dessert one cooked everyday. It was reserved for special occasions...and did have strange powers to bring in the festive cheer.

Perhaps the only time my sister and I volunteered to help Ma clean the dishes, was when payesh was made. Not the dishes really...the pot in which it was cooked, to be more precise! Fondly called a "chaachi", the creamy crust that was left behind in the pot was the highlight of the whole payesh-eating experience. It caused many a fights with my sister, who was also more interested in the "chaachi" than the payesh itself.  So we meticulously took turns to lick the pot clean, until we could taste nothing but our hands.
So every time I hear someone say "The proof is in the pudding.", I secretly smile in disagreement. The proof has always been in the "chaachi"...always. And while my little girl may never "get it", I will continue my love affair with "chaachi", and lick the large pot clean...much to her amazement (embarrassment?).

Tuesday, February 3, 2015

Eggplant roast and lizards made of dough...

In a rare cooking spree, I made baingan bharta, tomato chutney and veggie-chapati today. The thunderstorms and rain in the background, and the smell of roasted eggplant rising up in the air, took me back to my childhood, where, in a similar setting, Ma instructs our "rannar mashi" (cook):  "Shoni Mongol  baar e begun porano bhalo. Aji begun ta redhe felo, Mashi". (Tranlates to: It's considered good omen to roast eggplants on Tuesdays and Saturdays. So let's roast that eggplant today.)

In a strange coincidence, today is Tuesday too...and although I have no idea which of the gods I have pleased with a roasted eggplant on Tuesday, I feel so grown up! I made chapatis for the first time...and a special mini one for the little girl in the house, just like our "rannar mashi" used to make for me.

We don't realise how we're creating memories everyday. Even an ordinary day can come back to us, years later...to make us feel extraordinary! Here's hoping that I am able to create a childhood for my little girl, which will continue to make her smile...decades later...

Sunday, August 17, 2014

Superheros don’t always wear masks


Sitting next to my semi-conscious baby inside an ambulance is the hardest thing I’ve ever done. Just like you cannot describe the joy you feel when you hold your baby for the first time, the horror of seeing your baby lie on an ambulance bed cannot be described. You feel your heart throbbing in your mouth, and your very life force being sucked away. Gathering the thin shreds of strength that’s still left in you, you try to focus…on her, on her eyes, on her breathing. “My precious little bundle, this can’t be happening to you”. But it did. And it does.
She had a febrile seizure, which is “a convulsion associated with a significant rise in body temperature. Turns out, both A and I had this when we were babies. They most commonly occur in children between the ages of 6 months and 5 years of age.” Approximately one in every 25 children will have at least one febrile seizure, I was told. But if you are one in that 25, statistics does not really help. What helps is being trained in first-aid and promptly calling triple zero.

All medical emergencies are scary to watch and sometimes there’s nothing you can do to help. Standing in the middle of nowhere, we were shocked to the core and panic stricken. Even common sense had deserted us. We were lucky that we were with friends who dialled triple zero. We were lucky because a stranger opened their home to us, held our baby the way she should have been held and rocked her to comfort until the ambulance arrived.

Thankfully, she is okay now. The good news is, although these seizures can be frightening to parents, the vast majority of febrile seizures are short and harmless. The bad news is, if you have been in an ambulance with your little bub, you never quite recover from that shock.
This was my second time in an ambulance. And it didn’t get any easier. The first time, I was in it with my father, after he had two massive heart attacks. We lost him shortly after we reached the hospital. It was too late. The night before, he kept insisting that his chest pain was due to a gastric problem (a chronic condition that he suffered from for years). We shouldn’t have listened to him. We should have rushed him to the hospital much earlier.

If you have ever been in an ambulance with a loved one either sick or hurt, you would know this. Your life changes forever. You split it in half - life before the incident, and life after (whatever be the outcome of the incident, good or bad). The feelings and thoughts that flood your body during that helpless journey to the hospital, haunt you often.  You replay the chain of events over and over in your head, think of a million things you could have done differently to save the situation. But sometimes, it’s too late. And most of the times, it’s not your fault.

I always thought ambulances were for other people. Triple zero was just a number, until I needed to dial it one day. After that fateful day with my father, every time I saw an ambulance speed through the roads with its red lights flashing, my heart said a secret prayer….for those on the ambulance bed, and those by their side. I forget to breathe for a second, as I remember the cold touch of the metallic rails on the ambulance bed. On the other side of the cold rails was someone I loved. Someone who is no more. But after this recent episode with my little one, every time I see an ambulance, I say a secret prayer and a silent “thank you” for all the kindness there is in this world, which often comes from the most unexpected corners.

Donating blood, helping a stranger in a roadside emergency, saying a kind word to someone in crisis, opening your heart or home to someone in need, donating money/clothes/food for a natural disaster appeal, sponsoring a child’s education, funding a water pump in a remote village, spreading awareness for a noble cause, volunteering your time at an old age home or an animal rescue shelter…whatever be our cause, whatever be our limitations…we can all be a blessing to someone, just like those strangers were to me that day. Superheros don’t always wear masks. Sometimes, they just rock your baby to comfort, when you can’t.
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Dedicated to the kind family in Hammond Park, Western Australia, who helped us out that day.

For ideas on how you can help, visit:





For more details on first-aid training in Perth, visit:


Finally, remember that calling triple zero promptly can save lives. Don’t take a chance.

Tuesday, June 17, 2014

15 Things No One Told Me I Could Do To Prepare for Motherhood

 


When people told me there was nothing I could do to prepare myself for motherhood, I believed them. Biggest mistake! I continued reading pregnancy books and mommy blogs, religiously went to the antenatal classes, googled almost a hundred questions everyday related to pregnancy or motherhood… all while naively believing that nothing could prepare me for the real thing. One year into motherhood, I think I have a pretty good understanding of what I could do as preparation. So here’s a list I put together for pregnant women or any woman who plans to have babies at some point in their lives.

Things you will need:

  • A box of nappies
  • A feeding bottle
  • Some baby clothing
  • A human volunteer who has the capacity to be annoying on demand. Husbands are a good choice as it comes to them naturally. If not, a friend will do. In this list, am assuming that the husband will oblige.
  • A lifelike doll
  • A friend's baby on loan (if not, a live octopus will do just fine)
  • An audio recording of a baby crying. Ask your mommy friends to record one. They can do it at really short notice.
  • Patience

Preparation time 

9 months (if you do at least 5 things on this list every day for the 9 months)

  1. Make yourself a cup of coffee at least an hour before you plan to have it. Get used to the flat, cold, taste.
  2. Play the audio of the baby crying every evening for a couple of hours. Try getting some important work done (like making an important phone call) while the audio plays.
  3. Take the live octopus and place it on a flat surface. Put a nappy around its body (whichever part you can access while it wriggles). Play the audio of the baby crying while you do this. Ask the husband to hold a bag of organic fertiliser very close to your nose during this exercise.
  4. Dress the octopus up in layers of clothing. Make sure you include a beanie and a pair of socks. Play the audio of the baby crying while you do this. Spill some milk on the fully-dressed octopus two minutes after you have dressed it up. Repeat this step.
  5. Place the doll on your lap in the middle of the night. Put a bottle of milk in its mouth. Sit still for 45 minutes watching how the level of milk in the bottle remains the same. Do not move during this exercise as it might upset the doll. (Optional) - Play the audio of the baby crying while you do this.
  6. Identify one valuable and irreplaceable item in your house that you are emotionally attached to, for whatever reason (family treasure, special gift, travel memento bringing back lovely memories…whatever). Break it.
  7. Strip your house of all accessories and decor items…and a few utility items like the coffee table and theatre speakers. Get used to the blank, sterile look. You will later learn that this is called “child proofing”.
  8. Spend 30 minutes researching a recipe that you think a child may enjoy eating. Spend the next 30 minutes cooking it. Now, take the wok and throw all that you have cooked straight into the bin.  (Optional) – Ask the husband to take a spoonful and spit it out straight away. Make sure he spills most of the food on the chair so that you can spend the next 30 minutes cleaning it.
  9. Let the husband bathe in pasta sauce. Spend the next 30 minutes cleaning him, while he screams. Make sure you both have zero fun while doing this.
  10.  Dress up for a special work or social event. Just before stepping out of the door, spill a tiny amount of milk on your shoulder, taking care that it trickles down slightly towards your chest. DO NOT change into fresh clothes, as you don’t have the time for it. Try enjoying the event while trying not to get irritated by the white smudge on your black dress or when people (involuntarily) stare at your chest.
  11. On a day that you are extremely tired and sleepy, pour some cold water on your bed just when you thought you were ready to retire. Spend the next 30 minutes changing the sheets. Play the audio of the baby crying while you do this. For best results, try this on a winter night.
  12. Walk into a restaurant with the live octopus and the audio of the baby crying. Put the octopus on a high chair and give him small pieces of food from your plate. Watch the look on the waiter’s face when the octopus spits the food out and throws most of it on the floor. Next, play the audio of the baby crying and watch the look on the faces of the other people in the restaurant. Now, leave your food unfinished, pay the bill and a big tip for the inconvenience you have caused, and rush out of the restaurant apologising to every person you meet on your way out. Do not go to any restaurant for the next hundred years.
  13. Rock your doll and sing lullabies to it for 30 minutes. When it falls asleep, put it in the cot and quietly close the door. Walk to the living room feeling happy that you can now enjoy a much-needed glass of wine after a tiring day. Just when you have poured yourself a glass, ask the husband to play the audio of the baby crying. Leave the wine on the bench top and run back to the cot and repeat this step 5 times. The last time, fall asleep with the doll (forgetting all about the wine or dinner).
  14. Identify the most popular kid’s show at the time. (These days it’s Peppa Pig). Watch it every day at least 60 times. Make sure you watch the exact same episode on a loop. Remember, there is no such thing as too many times...
  15. Send at least one email to your boss with the word (and just this word) "fffccckkkkuuuuuu". Apologise a hundred times, explaining that your baby dived onto your keyboard when you were trying to write an email to him. Pray that he believes you.


While I do agree that every baby is different and therefore every mum’s experience is different, I strongly feel that this is a pretty generic list that every woman will find useful. If any of your mommy friends tell you that this list is rubbish and it’s not this bad….shoot them. They are lying and secretly waiting to watch the fun when you dive into the motherhood experience totally clueless.

I am also fully aware that despite the shocking nature of this list, motherhood is the best thing that happened to me (and many like me).  And no list in the world can prepare you for what you feel when you cuddle your little bundle of joy at the end of a very tiring day.