Here's what's good about motherhood

Life as a mother is tough per say; gets tougher when you are outdoors with your child and is toughest on weekends, public holidays and festivals when you like everyone want to do 'your' thing but can't.

So, exactly when is the good part, the good days of motherhood? I will speak for myself that there are some fantastic times as a mother and days when you can't contain this joy in your heart and have to take to Facebook, Twitter, social platforms to share it with the whole damn world. Like me. And this joy gets multiplied every time someone 'likes'/ comments on your social update.

Oh, my mommyhood's happiness is when...

1. ...on days I learn that one CAN live without make-up, good-fitted clothes, fancy shoes and expensive perfumes. And that the people you share your life with - spouse, kid(s), parents etc - don't give horse's ass about your physical appearance. 
2. ...on days when body hair begins to resemble prehistoric proportions but boi giggles while twirling these in his tiny fingers. Mind you, this also brings a very hearty laughter.
3. ...on days when boi finishes his bowl of food without messing up the just-cleaned floors. 
4. ...on days when I get to chew food, sip a drink along, and watch the whole episode of my teleserial or youtube videos while boi sleeps or plays happily by himself. The feeling is actually between ecstatic and is-it-really-happening-to-me.
5. ...on days when boi sticks by my schedule. Example, wakes up on time, naps on time, eats and poops on time. Bliss.  
6. ...on days when I venture out in public places and boi gets so busy soaking up the outside world that he forgets to throw a tantrum. Makes me beam with joy. 
7. ...on days when some stupid trick (totally fluke) of mine cracks boi up. I have collected a stock of giggling videos of boi when I got lucky with some funny face, a silly nursery rhyme adapted in Hindi, unexpected behavior like talking into a banana (yes, this one was the latest). The trick is the highlight of my and boi's day and we love to show it off to everyone who would care. Although next day, its promptly forgotten. 

Reasons that annoy & reasons that overpower annoyance

When I was little, Saturdays meant two things - eating Maggi noodles and going with Dad to drive about the town in his car. Today, Saturday's are about lazy mornings, followed by work (yes, we journalists work on Saturdays too) and then pray for a miraculous party/dinner plan to emerge from husband's mouth.

Ever since Indian Premier League started (and now they have finally ended), neither the party nor the dinner has happened. This leaves behind a very upset wife (that's me). As an exercise to cool my head off, I am listing out 7 things that annoy me the most in my husband and 7 things that make me forget those annoying characteristics of his.

What Annoys me the most

1. NO amount of explanation can convince my man that it’s not a good idea to leave leftovers from dinner or dirty dishes on the kitchen counter for hours. It only attracts more ants and cockroaches, if you haven't knocked a few glasses or plates off our really compact kitchen counter already. This way, in addition to making dinner after work everyday, I am cleaning it up, too.

2. He leaves the bathroom floor WET (despite telling him at least 999 times to mop it away). Result, either I end up doing the same (on my defense, the bathroom does not dry up and becomes very slippery)

3. He see's clean laundry on the bed or on bedside table, ready to be folded or stowed away for ironing. But no, he will prefer to turn a blind eye and walk out without touching the laundry. At times, he even gets in the bed, pulls the covers over his head and act like a baby who does not know that the laundry is in a pile on the bed.

4. Vegetables and boiled veggies are not bad. I can’t force him to eat them, but there’s no reason to make gagging sounds when I do.

5. He will NEVER use the garbage bag in the trash, opting instead to throw the garbage right into the can and then never offering to clean the messy garbage bin.

6. The man assumes that television is ONLY his legal tool to unwind after work, where the lone sofa turns into his throne.

7. Most of all, he never never never pay the utility bills on time. Result, either the connection/subscription is discontinued or we pay a fine (not to mention the bear the inconvenience).

Okay, to be honest, I am actually feeling much better as I list these out. And now it's turn for the happy part. 7 reasons why let him annoy me so much...


1. He comes with me to the grocery store (whenever I manage to convince him)and patiently trails along with the shopping cart. And even pays for the same, most of the times.

2. He has taught me (an extremely talkative person) how to talk without speaking.

3. He can genuinely leave me alone, when I need it the most.

4. Mr Muscles can be a rock when it comes to dealing with patience.

5. Does not force me to do anything that I am reluctant to do in first place, which includes being a docile and timid creature for his side of the family.

6. If I do a bad job at writing an article (my work) then he very honestly points it out to me. There's no sweetening of communication!

7. Stops snoring (or at least for some time) when I call out his name.

I never thanked my mom!

It takes me less than 10 seconds to go from zero (absolute normal self) to boiling point level. And usually it happens to me over the most lame topics one can imagine. Like the one I am about to blog about. But it did manage to jolt me up.

Two days back, I bought a dozen Alphonso mangoes (along with week's grocery) on my way back from office. Now, mangoes are not my passion food nor am I a foodie. It was just a little more work that I did that day - a box of mangoes, which were "the season's best" as assured by the shopkeeper. So I felt very good about getting those mangoes at Rs 180 (for 12 pieces).

Back home, I even skipped dinner to dig my teeth into "season's best" mangoes. The conflict began when my husband brushed those off as "just another variety of mangoes." Worse, he continued, "You should have waited for another 10 days, the prices would have been cheaper and quality would have better."
This last one really got me going.

I am the one who went out to buy the mundane groceries and drag all of that back home in anticipation that hubby dear would appreciate the pain. But he brushed it off as 'no big deal!' WOW. The mangoes didn't really leave a great taste, as you'd have figured until now.

But on the hindsight, I came face-to-face to a new fact. You don't realise this, but it happens to most of us. We somewhere along the line begin to emulate our mothers (in case of married women, that is) and aunties, whom we looked upon as ones from past generation with regressive ideas.

I remember how my mom who always cribbed about her never-ending chores around the house and getting no appreciation in return (she has been a proud home-maker all her life) used to irk us (me and my elder sister) so much when we were kids. My mom did all shopping, grocery, budget management, and a endless list of stuff. My father, like million other Indian father, was never really involved in the realms of running the household. In a way it was never expected of him too. He was the male member in an Indian household who was applauded and lathered with affection for every single rupee earned, every vacation that he arranged for us, every long drive in a shiny Maruti 800 he gave us & mom, every birthday party he asked mom to arrange for his daughters, and every restaurant he took us to.

Mom, silently, cooked the lavish birthday party buffets, managed the picnic baskets on the long drive, packed those thoughtful paper napkins and cups for every single train vacation, and efficiently spent the monthly budgets on knick-knacks to dress up her daughters to restaurants. We never even gave those actions a second thought!

Today, if my 'extra work' of grocery and shopping for my home doesn't get me the required attention and appreciation, I flare up! I can only call up my mom now and tell her subtly that I have learnt everything about running a house from her including balancing professional and personal commitments.

She's the hero we never thanked. WOW!

To be social...or not

Off late, I have noticed that single women (and I mean, mostly women) expect a married women to behave in a certain way. For instance, I have a sweet little (she’s a young thing at work) friend cum colleague, who jumps to my defence every time she finds any male counterpart even remotely flirting or indicating something akin.

“You know na…her hubby will come and bash you,” she said rising to my defence and making her point to the men around. As if the i-banker hubby (roll my eyes) would draw on his superman’s cape to save his beloved! (snigger)

Now, I know her intentions are pretty sweet, and I am flattered but then this also makes me think if married women are to be sanctified in a certain role. Its like – now that you have a partner back home, your life (read focus, concentration and of course all affection whatsoever) is assumed to be around the same. Noticeably, this trend has been more visible on my female friends than male.

So, is move to wedded bliss looked as a sweep to brush unwed friends under the rug? I think that’s both hilarious and preposterous. Within a year and 3 months of my marriage, I have become more social and more reachable for my friends (read single friends), leading me to the conclusion that marriage does not reduce a couple's ties to the larger community but actually helps in increasing it.

As married couple we have been socializing more often (than ever before in our respective pasts). The reason, speaking for me that is, once married I have become much more secure about my feelings and trust. This in turn clears your head and makes you more sociable. The fact that I and my hubby HAPPILY attend parties and similar social gatherings alone with our own set of friends (as there’s no point dragging spouses along when they probably won’t fit in the gathering) makes others wonder if we have gone mad already, or even bored perhaps.

You make me feel...

How often do you hear yourself saying this to your husband or even a boy friend, “You make me feel . . .” and the end of the sentence depends on the feeling of the day, the hour, or the minute!

You make me feel like a million dollars.

You make me feel worthless.

You make me feel beautiful and sexy. (Though this one happens rarely)

You make me so angry! ... So happy! ... So sad! ... So mad! ... So bad! ...So glad!

You make me feel like I don’t do anything all day long.

I think of myself as an intuitive person who’s perceptions->emotion->thought process is very quick and hard to pin down. It's very alien for me to actually think purposely about things. Whereas my husband is a slow processor, thinking things through methodically over a long period of time. Needless to say that can create some difficulties.

But I am learning the hard way. I realise that I need to separate my feelings from my husband. Instead of saying, “You make me feel…” I say, “I feel…” I have come to believe that it is okay to feel lonely, afraid, or hurt, but you have to own those feelings as your own without blaming them on others.

We Indians are emotional fools and that's perhaps why we need to strike that invisible balance enough togetherness to survive and enough separateness to thrive.

Now perks get the axe

This is a frame by frame account of my conversation with a resident of sea-facing flat in Juhu (who also happens to be my senior from college married to an i-banker with once the biggest names in American investment banking)

"Why wasn't there a Plan B..," she begins. And continues. "I gave it to him. How could he do this to me and my kid."

What did you do, I asked curiously, as this friend is known for her volatile nature.

She narrated.

"You jerk!" screamed this married-to-a-rich-i-banker friend, aiming her bulky communicator phone at her husband. "You've destroyed my life,'' she carried on. "Just look at me..my hair's a mess, my nails are desperate for manicure. You loser, you nobody."

Her husband, let's call him Mr B, whose property portfolio disintegrated in the financial crash, had just told his wife that she would have to cut back on her thrice-weekly visits to the 5-star spa, the nail salon in South Mumbai, and the oxygen facials, chemical peels and seaweed wraps at another joint in Bandra.

My friend, "If his achievements can be wiped out in a day, or a few weeks, was it all just a paper game?" Worth thinking.

Not only that, but they no longer had the money to pay for an army of bullied servants to wait on her hand and foot. Worse was to come – the brow-lift would have to be cancelled; her credit card would have to be snipped in half and there was no way, he told her (and she told me sobbing), that he could carry on spending for the sea-facing rental flat in Juhu.

Now this female wasn't to be confused with the stay-at-home mother who selflessly devotes herself to the upbringing of her children, with all the housework and domestic chores that entails. This one, in fact, gave up work (quite happily too) as soon as she married, ostensibly to create a stable home environment for any offspring that might come along. She then employed a battery of house staff to do all the domestic work she promised to undertake, leaving her with little to do all day except shop, lunch and luxuriate. (And play back the lazy details to lowly citizens like me)

On the other side, Mr B -- a workaholic, accustomed to being under pressure for 18 hours a day was having a tough time too. We hear that they are frantically looking for work, and gets a heartburn everytime he hears that his few lucky colleagues are being recruited by former competitors.

That thing called the future, which we all hold in the back of our mind as a time to which we can look forward when our efforts finally come to fruition, when we will get what we hope and work for, our prayers answered, our dreams fulfilled - that future is no longer a shining promise. To a certain sect of professionals, of course!