Becoming my parents' daughter

Everyone knows motherhood is tough. That it takes as much out of you as it gives...both in time and joy. One invests so much time and energy into being that perfect mother - the kind who bakes cupcakes on Saturdays just because it is Saturday, who stays awake late into the night folding onesies and stitching fancy buttons on a costume - there are moments that one forgets to be a daughter.

Why?

Why is it engrossing to discuss cow dung with the tot than answer questions on how the day was with the parent? Why is it so hard to let go of little things when it concerns your child? Why is it harder to understand someone you've known for more than two decades while you're completely in-sync with a 21 month old who can barely string two words together? Does motherhood erase all signs of being a daughter once?

As the peer pressure of young, vibrant do-it-all moms rises, the doting daughter slowly fades into the background...with occasional glimpses once in awhile to buy a certain bag, listen to an old tale, touch a burning forehead, share a joke over phone...or simply smile every morning instead of the usual complaint about the wrong sippy cup in the toddler's hands.

Being a mother is all about loving someone unconditionally.
Being a daughter is about letting that someone love you...unconditionally.

In the Land of Butterflies

It was a quiet afternoon in the Azalea kingdom...the kind of quiet that lends itself to mind-numbing chores and pointless conversations; It is also the kind of quiet that makes one restless - a strong yearning to launch oneself off this state of inertia. And if you entered the Royal nursery that's what you would find Princess Mei doing...trying to jump off The King's arms and fly into the skies on a new adventure.

The King and The Queen sang a dozen lullabies, the baby made raspberries at them. The court jesters juggled apples and colourful balls while the maidens twirled satin ribbons but Little Princess Mei just yawned at them. Then she curled her tiny fists, puffed air into her roly-poly cheeks and SCREAMED!

WAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAH!

The Azalea kingdom rocked and came to a complete standstill.

No one knew how to calm the baby and put her to sleep. Lady Chance was not in town to bestow gifts and The King was not the kind who believed in Magic either. Her Highness just sighed and hugged herself to sleep in an armchair. His Royal Highness looked at the tiny bundle in his hands. He had conquered the lands, he had reined the raging seas but how can such a fragile being hold him prisoner? Are those spells swirling in those beautiful dark eyes?

As an expert storyteller he weaved many a wonderful tale of grandeur and adventure...of Princes on stallions and talking elephants and finally he no longer had any new yarn to spin but the baby in his arms giggled. Her tiny feet kicked him in his chest asking for more.

He gently caressed her curved earlobe, a trait she takes on from him. Princess Mei looked into her father's eyes and cooed. He closed his eyes and hummed softly. His gentle melody slowly grew in depth and soon found a reply as tiny colourful butterflies silently flew in from the forest. They circled above The King and Princess Mei and the only sounds in the room were the soft flapping of their wings.

Soon a mellow calm descended into the room, embracing its occupants in a velvety hug they had long desired. In that moment of sublime tranquility as the last of the butterflies came to rest on her arm, the Little Princess made her peace. Her tiny fingers firmly clasping his hand, Princess Mei was finally sound asleep, a playful smile still on her lips.

The King sighed.

The Date

She felt her life was sprinting away from her as she scrubbed baby food off the kitchen floors and folded baskets of laundry. Wasn't she more than just a mother? She read books, sang songs and was more than capable of holding a conversation on any topic under the sun for over 10 minutes.

Yet here she was making sure the carrots and peas did not touch each other on the plate, arranging onesies and pajamas by colour and looking under crib and beds for fat, green worms to make soup with.

She needed a date. No, not need, wanted. Yes! that's the word. She WANTED a date. An evening with her husband; two adults enjoying a peaceful meal away from bibs and babble. A date was set, after frantic phone calls a reliable babysitter was found and the baby was informed. As long as the carrots and peas didn't touch, she didn't care two cents about dates.

The Day finally dawned. She spent hours in front of the mirror rehearsing what she would say at dinner. She felt like a teenager going on a first date. An evening to reminisce about Oscar Wilde and Balzac, of red wines and candle light...an evening as a young, intelligent woman.

"So guess what? I am sitting on the couch reading an article on Eezham and she comes and takes the mouse and says, 'Amma , whatyoudoing? elp?' Then she picks up my book from the table and goes ' This libaly book.' "

He smiles at her fondly as he refills her wine glass. She hardly notices the twinkle in his eyes as she continues,
"Oh my God! Yesterday she sang the entire ABC song. I swear, it was the sweetest thing I've ever heard. No other 20 month old I know can say ABC much less sing it. And then, did I tell you she can completely dismantle our remote and hide the batteries and act as if she doesn't know what we're talking about? and today she..."

He leaned back in his chair.
This was going to be a beautiful evening.

Note: This is a work of fiction. Any resemblance to moms folding laundry or scrubbing floors is completely intentional.

Book Review

I'm losing count of the books I've read, so trying to jot them down as crisp as possible...

My Father's Paradise by Ariel Sabar (Iraq)
- Brilliantly researched and wonderfully written. Loved the snippets of History he had sprinkled throughout the book. This book is totally engrossing and made me put it down each time with a really heavy heart. It did make me realize that casteism manifests itself throughout the world, in some way or the other...In the way European Jews looked down on the Middle-Eastern Jews or mocked their language. PICK IT UP!

Maya Running by Anjali Banerjee
- Young adult novel. No points for guessing why I picked it up :) It did turn out to be a really sweet book. There were a couple of stereotypes, like Maya's cousin who visits Manitoba from Calcutta or the 'cool' dude liking the 'nerd' girl part. Liked the twist and the resolution. Good book to read between some heavy clunkers :) But I guess my best moment with the book was when Mayalou picked it up and said, "Lie-berry book. Chaami!" and she would proceed to touch the picture of Ganesh on the cover and press her hands to her eyes...sigh! I kept renewing the book just to see her do that :)

The Boy in the Striped Pajamas by John Boyne (Ireland)
- Poignant, heart-wrenching story of a young German boy whose father is sent by the fuehrer to take charge of Auchswitz concentration camp. The story is told from the point of view of 9 year old Bruno, who pulls us in with his innocence and then breaks us apart as he sets out on his one big adventure before leaving camp. Somehow, the horror of Holocaust as told by a child is even more scathing and unbearable, especially when you realize those tender hearts are just incapable of recognizing Evil. Finished it in one setting and then cried more rivers watching the movie.

The Scent of Sake by Joyce Lebra (Japan)
- Well-researched book on the Japanese sake brewing families. Their traditions, how business and family are one and the same unit, the role of women in business - every single nuance including how cooking rice is an art is brought to us through the character of Rie...the head of the Omura household. Simple narrative. Somehow I feel, if 'Toss of a Lemon' by Padma Viswanathan was a few hundred pages shorter I might've given it a shot. Coz between the two, the only reason I finished this book was because it was smaller. Otherwise they deal with the same kind of non-plot : the life of the matriarch of a family, how she affects those around her directly or indirectly. Plus I guess I was courious about Japanese culture and not so much about Indian caste system.

Atonement by Ian McEwan
- I don't think I have a right to review this since I did not complete it. I couldn't go beyond half the novel. Can't really put my finger on why. Maybe because I didn't gel with the precocious 13 year old Briony Tallis, the style of writing(which I later read used metafiction and such like of which I haven't really heard of before) was making it really, really hard for me to concentrate on the story. twice I started the book, dropped it on page 23 or some such and then tried to pick it up again after a week. Finally gave up. Still can't understand why it was shortlisted for Booker?!

But yeah, found out many interesting books using the literary device metafiction from wiki. I've seen the movie 'Everything is illuminated' and I liked it. So maybe, it isn't metafiction but Atonement I dislike :)

The No:1 Ladies Detective Agency by Alexander McCall Smith
- Awesome Dawesome book. Hilarious, unputtdownable and Mma Rawotse is just too darn wonderful :) Light reading but it is in no means 'fluff'. Throughout the book, you get to know Africa, Bostwana in particular, and what keeps the fire alive in every African. This is the first book in the series and I can't wait to read all the ten.


Challenges covered: New Author, Orbis terrarum, WWII.
(Note to self: Check challenge blogs to find out if the challenge is still on or it's over and done with)

If Adolf Hitler

...hadn't invaded Poland,
...didn't try to exterminate Jews,
...had discarded concentration camps in favor of exiling Jews from Germany

would the world have recognized Josef Stalin for the cruel dictator he really was?
Did we ignore one genocide in favour of another...because we didn't look closely behind The Curtain?

Lost and Found

In moments of unbridled joy
Under waves of unseen blessings
I see you.

In screeching lights
Under voiceless blankets
I hear you.

In endless greens
Under wisps of blue
I lose you.

In the minutiae of Life
Under a mound of Oblivion
You find me.

Work + Love = A Life in Balance

I love my job. I really do.

Ofcourse love has never stopped me at earlier jobs to post while on office time.

But this time it's different.

I love it even more to get back home early.

Why?

Because, now there is a tiny (well not so tiny) wisp of an angel who runs to the kitchen as I open the back door...who stops by the fridge as soon as she gets a glimpse of me. She then proceeds to ignore me and chant, "A B C D O I P" while I walk in and sit on the sofa.

But the moment I say, "Amma-kku hug", she drops everything and runs to me to disappear in my arms...I would die a thousand deaths just to be born again in that moment.

For now I just clock my 8 hours and zip home...to be loved.