How Did You Know?

It was a Rush of Red.

The bottle looked the same, it was positioned right there the way it should be on the dresser. Not an angle misplaced. Yet the whiff was there.

I asked if she'd been tinkering with it.

"No," she said, "see nothing has moved."

I could see that, I told her.

She moved away, forgetting she'd soon have to walk back again. There it was, another Rush.

Then she told me, she'd a little spray.

How did you know, she wondered more than a little amazed.

Facts would have worked, yet fact-ion sounds better.

Mothers, I reminded her have eyes. When you don't eat, they know it. When you haven't finished your homework, they know it. When you've been naughty, they know it. When your grades are slipping, they know it. When you are hungry, they know exactly what you want. They can read your mind all the time. They are like your second skin. Often you don't even notice them till they are gone.

"Really?" she asked her eyes opening in wondrous excitement.

"Mothers are like skin. Do they get hurt when we do?"

Yes, they can feel those stitches bringing your lashes closer, they feel that graze on your knee, they hurt when you bleed.

"Then why do mothers like to scold children all the time?"

Not all the time. Mothers are strict, they have to be, they only want the best for you.

"Did your mother scold you?"

Scolding was nothing. Caning it was for us.

"But you don't cane us."

Never will, never can for a moment. It was years ago, yet I can still feel the pain. I'd much rather spare the rod and hopefully not scar my child.

Splish, Splash

She wanted a splash at 8, a splash was what she got.

All coloured, all enticing, urging you to quickly bite into it. It was looked like the cake was meant for two and the presence of her best pal, sure made it seem that way. When it comes to friends, a thank you just isn't enough. So the pictures will have to do....

What Was She Thinking?

On the day she turned 8....
A cake....
Some candles....
Some prezzies....
Some friends....
Some fun-filled bubbles....
Some blocks and crosses....
Or was it mere thoughts of stepping into another year?
Clip Art holds some answers....

The Clouds, Sand & Sea

There was a time, long, long, long ago, when the thought of Goa would see us head out for a rail journey, with a stop in Bombay thrown in for good measure. Then we'd try to get some bus tickets, pleading for the dates we needed. When we finally got those, we'd head out for a leg cramping vacation by the sea.

Often, we've been tempted to relive those moments. Well, not the leg cramping bits. We came this close to it, when airline routes to the enticing destination were announced earlier this year. We'd mentally packed our bags. As that thing goes, about best laid plans.

Then this arrived. And I thought yet again of Goa - sand, surf, clouds. Glad, my lovely sis-in-law Jaya could squeeze in a holiday even though we couldn't.

Guess, what it does take to get there are pictures of perfection.....

On Racial Harmony Day

He grins and wears it.
He likes the feel of the soft silk.
It's nice, he tells me.
His teacher loves it, so he says.
As do his friends, so I believe.
When it's time to head sleep, he still wants to feel like the little emperor that he is.
I knew there was something to it....

Click & Away

You coo into their ears....
Baba, look, look there....
Baba, see the camera is there....

You get one happy one to do a little dance....
They end up dancing in the wrong spot....

The eyes are fixed....
For a moment you think you have the shot....
That's when they choose to look away....

Thank goodness for perfect frames...

PS: It is moment like these that I shall treasure the most. It's turning out to be a year when some of my closest pals are packing their bags for greener/greyer/colder/better shores. I view these moments with more than the usual tinge of regret. As I've often said, it gets harder to make friends as you age. But when you've got to go, you've got go. So, here's wishing our dear pals Adity, Vineet and our kids' dear pals Arnaav and Viraj, the very best. Do I even need to say it - you shall all be missed.

The Company of Friends

Makes every moment special....
Whether it is playing....
Sparring....
Jumping....
Running....
Falling....
Or even indulging in simple pleasures, like eating....

Shak-a-Tale

Mamma, you remember the shark?
No.

Remember in Sri Lanka.
Sri Lanka? You only played on the beach there.

Ahhhh, Ummmm, not Sri Lanka?
Not Sri Lanka?

Then where?
Australia, I think, maybe Byron Bay.

Yes, Ozztraylia.
Didn't you see whales there?

No, no it was a shark. A very big one. See my hand. Like this.

Oh!
Not a whale?

No, shark, shark, big shark.
What did it do?

It jumped like this, then like that.
THEN?

Then it jumped over our ship.
Ship? Wasn't it a boat?

No, it was a ship.
Ok, it was a ship, then what did it do?

It jumped and jumped, then turned our ship.
Goodness, you fell into the water. Did you?

YES!
Then what happened?

Then we started swimming.
But you can barely float.

I was swimming, Daddy was swimming, Diddi was swimming.
Really?

Then the ambulance came. The shark was behind us.
The shark was behind you and the ambulance in front, what happened?

The shark opened the big, big mouth then we were inside it.
Oh no, I am so scared!

Then the doctor came, he opened the shark's mouth.
WOW!

He opened the mouth, then he pulled us out, we were inside ambulance and we went to hospital.
And then you were alright?
Yes, Mamma see me now, I can swim the sharks.

Dhruv, did it really happen, now?
Yes, Mamma, shall I tell you again?

Sleepathon

There was a time long, long ago when text made it to your sleep.

You studied in your thoughts, you studied in your sleep.

I walked with my books to knock off sleep. They tell me I walked till I slept book in hand, resting my shoulder against the pillar that was behind the statue that blessed us all before the exams.

My lovely little sis made me spicy sauce ki namkin (a hostel special) to ensure hunger pangs didn't strike when studying mattered most.

The nuns, brought us our warm glasses of milk on the dot - 9:30pm. A little bit more to go, they gently reminded us as we crammed our heads with History, Geography, Literature, Science, Hindi and a whole lot more.

You know the exams were upon you, when you looked at all the sleep deprived eyes around you, when the desperate prayers of help began, when the girl on the bed next to yours started talking text in her sleep.

You never imagined that life would come full circle and the deprived sleep pattern would be back again. Last night, as we put the final touches to Aneesha's exam bags, which took no longer than five minutes in the room next door, we came back to see Dhruv crashed on the table and there was something going on his sleep.....

Get Ready For The Boys

What about the boys, you say.

They cut a pretty picture too, in their own special way. They like to grab those seats, shout out loud, do a jungle dance when they see each other and pine for each other's cars.

Aashish has that effect on Dhruv, which is why this shot taken at his fourth birthday should come as no surprise:


Which is why, it's important to get the birthday boy back into the frame. Luckily for us, McDonald's knew chairs like these should have space for two.....

They've Got The Look

There's something about those ringlets, that gorgeous smile, the amazing manners.
Each time Vashti walks my way, Aneesha seems to emerge a couple of years younger.
Maybe its true, all lovely little girls are made that way.

Bust That Stress

There was a time when they goo-ed and gaa-ed.....
A time before the words arrived....
The wheres, whys, wherefores followed....
The fights began....
They learnt to eat....
Also to leap....
Before you knew it they were gone from infancy into childhood.

I miss those days, I really do. Days when they were snug in your arm, when they let out those grand burps after their feeds, when all they did was lie down, laugh, cry, ask for more or wait to be changed.

That's partly why the arrival of each new one is greeted with such fan fare.

Viraj, is the new kid on our block. One we all love. He smiles, his wonderful smile, each time you lift him up. He's one happy baba. He lifts my spirits whenever I'm down. He's dying to grow up, eat stuff, he shouldn't even be attempting to read right now.

He's downright adorable, these pictures are proof.....



Pix Credits: The first one's powered by Nokia N73, the gadget doesn't cease to amaze me. The second one by the proud parents - Adity and Vineet.

Dhruv Eats Car

Speaking of the N73, you can even insert text like this, saving yourself the caption step. Change it into black, sepia or whatever effect pleases your fancy. Push buttons can't get any easier.

Watch the Words

I've mentioned the perils of the over-use of the Queen's English before. Don't know what it is about big words that draws the young ones in. The issue seems even more complex when you think of the energy you've putting in to crack C-A-T - Cat, M-A-T - Mat, B-A-T - Bat.

One day, after Dhruv had finished his fist fight with Aneesha and left an awful scratch on her shoulder, I told him:

Dhruv I am disappointed.

That was just the kind of word he needed for the day.

Everyone he met, heard it a couple of times, if not more:

Aneesha, I am disappointed.
Masi, I am disappointed.
Nani, I am disappointed.
Manju, I am disappointed.
Mamma, I am disappointed.
Rickshaw wallah, I am disappointed.
Bobby, I am disappointed.

There's got to be something about Ds.

Role Reversal

Bala to Aneesha:
How are you Aneesha?
Who is your friend?
What did you eat today?
What did you play?
Did you watch TV?
How long did you watch it?
Did you sleep in the afternoon?
Did you study?
Do you like homework?
Do you like playing tennis?
Do you like swimming?

A couple of patient replies later, an extremely harried Aneesha responds:
Daddy, can you stop asking questions.

There, she almost sounds like us!
Things do come full circle, if only you try.

Say Cheese

He not be minding his Ps & Qs.
Or for that matter his A, B, Cs...
But he's getting fairly adept at using all my cameras....
What say you, about this Dhruv click?

The Water Babies Are Back

And geared for the big plunge....

Looking for Adventure

After getting back to Singapore.....

Wait, don't go anywhere without me....

See, isn't my million dollar look worth the wait?

Old Friends and New

My blog and our sporadic emails that followed helped us stay in touch. We last saw each other in 1991, when we made our way past the hallowed precincts of Panjab University's Political Science Department. He went on to join the Indian Police Service and has done superbly for himself. I'm not surprised. A S Rai, like other civil service aspirants in the class of '91 was focused. After lectures, even the ones who weren't aspiring to be in civil service (like yours truly) made a mad dash for the Department Library or the main campus library. If there was ever a bunch of book worms, it had to be us. We were always the first to find out about the new books, always attempt to be the first to borrow them and studiously work on our notes.

I know our Professors loved us. 'The best class', was a phrase we'd heard often enough. We only made time for 'serious lectures' and ensured nothing was lost in trivial conversation. No cooler talk for us, no time for the Student Centre, no time for relaxed campus walks.

So in the two years that we spent doing our Masters, I knew virtually nothing about Rai, his interests or his family. Catching up after so many years, it was a surprise to learn he did his schooling in Mussorie, to meet his charming wife who studied law and his amazingly well behaved daughter. Seeing her and Aneesha yakking away, after Dhruv was ceremoniously dispatched home, it almost seemed like we'd never been away.

Meeting Mr Ashish

Dhruv talk from Chandigarh to Delhi:
Where are we going now?
To Delhi

Why?
To take our flight but we'll be stopping for a while before that.

Why?
To see Ashish.

My friend Ashish?
No, Ashish Mohan.

My friend Ashish?
No, this is a big Ashish.

Big Ashish?
I mean Mister Ashish.

Mister Ashish, oh we are going to see Mister Ashish.
Where does Mister Ashish stay?
What does Mister Ashish do?
Mister Ashish is in Delhi?
Mister Ashish has a big car?

On Arrival:
Hello, Mister Ashish where is your big car?

Thus, was born 'Mister' Ashish. Dhruv passed it off as his name in the two hours we spent with him, his patient wife Ritu and his Mum at Defence Colony. Ashish happens to be my rakhi brother, our childhood neighbour from Doon, our best pal who always won all the games we played. We scaled neighbour's roofs, jumped off them, got smacked left, right and centre by our parents who witnessed the scary sights. We hadn't even heard of Spider Man or Superman then and we behaved like them. What were we thinking? We hated home work and were duly punished for the extra play time we indulged in.

It was great to look back at those times, playing stapu in the rain, with our rain coats on, cycling to the river, fishing in the stream that barely had fish. It was great to relive those days, with my children rolling their eyes in awe. The ordinary sure seemed a little extra-ordinary.