An open letter to my daughter

Two days before, as I was listening to Kiran Bedi’s speech as part of an office event, I realised my inspiration to work outside home is not my working mother, not Kiran Bedi herself, but my Daughter who joyfully goes to her creche when I drop her off before I leave for work.

When I got pregnant with my girl as soon as I joined by new office, I had a feeling that this is the end of my career. Nevertheless, the pregnancy period was incredibly exciting and me enjoying that superwoman attitude. So now since I could still continue to work, all thanks to the in-house creche facility in office, I should apologise to my girl. Hence, I came up with this open letter for her.

My dear sweetheart,

The first sight I saw of you was the big black eyes looking around, curious to see the world. 21 months later now, we are partners in our development. Every morning, we have our bags to pack- mine with my office documents, lunch box, ID tag etc and yours with food, extra clothes, diapers etc. If you were not supportive enough, I would have had to stay at home wasting the investment on me.

So I want you to remind me of my following promises to you if at all I forget them out of my selfish love and insecurities:-

• ·         When you grow up, I want you to be empowered not just educated.
• ·         Choose your career based on your passion and not mine.
• ·         Be involved in outdoor games, to build endurance, be disciplined and have a sense of sportsman spirit.
• ·         Learn to be independent but take sensible decisions about what you think is right.
• ·         Make your own share of mistakes and learn to move on with renewed spirit.
• ·         Believe in yourself and not pull yourself down because you are a girl.
• ·         Treat the disadvantaged with compassion and lend a helping hand whenever possible.
• ·         I do not want to discriminate and deny you anything which I would have given you if you were my son.

Last but the most important of all, I do not want candles lit before your photograph like any other mother in the World. So be safe, be brave and know that your home will always be there for you.

,Love and hugs

Amma

A Series of Unfortunate Events

The reason why I chose this name? Read on…

Saturday, 7 September, 2012

We were relaxing after a busy week, read busy as both of us successfully managed to go to office on all five days(me to office and Jiya to office creche).

J went for his football practice early morning. Generously, I gave him a cup of tea and a small breakfast and again both of us went back to sleep together. Woke up again at 9 am and started playing around. Jiya was hungry, so I decided to make oats for her. If alone, she is like a siren which went berserk, she’ll simply cry but surely without a single tear.

So I carried her while cooking, bad decision. As soon as I removed the cooking vessel from the stove, she put her hand in it. The whole palm was burning, all red and swollen. Immediately I kept her hand immersed in water. But she was going on crying and writhing in pain for the next 2 hours.

By that time, J returned home with a knee injury, to be welcomed by the crying twins – me and Jiya. He did not know what to do; he was cursing himself that he went out.  He did not even get time to look at his wound or attend to it.

After long hours of crying, she finally slept in my arms while applied medicine. When she woke up, she was quite normal until she saw the blisters on her hand. She started crying again. But my brave girl recovered faster than I thought. J too got his wound medicated.

Sunday, 8 September, 2012

This Sunday I wanted to go to church, which is a luxury post-baby. But due to the previous day’s burning session, we decided to stay at home while J attends church on our behalf too. Jiya started showing symptoms of fever. All the pain and crying bothered her so much that her body temperature rose. Calpol drops, every 6 hours and wet cloth on forehead, the routine started.

Can we go to office tomorrow? I don’t think so…

Monday, 9 September, 2012

Jiya and me at home, taking rest and worrying about office too. Fever subsiding…

Tuesday, 10 September, 2012

No fever, Jiya is perfectly fine and back to all her mischievousness. Her hand is also recovering fast with no more blisters to be seen. We got ready for office and loaded ourselves onto our bike, Pulsar 180 and started for office, which is just 3km from home.

Tragedy strikes again. Halfway through, I felt as if I’m being pulled off. Before I even knew it, my duppatta got caught in the bike’s tyre ripping skin off my neck. J hit the brakes and we got down to find no trace of the duppatta anywhere. The entire cloth got pulled inside the chain case of the back tyre. And the right side of my neck had very little epidermis left. The bike was not running properly and so J removed the case; he is always ready for an emergency. He removed the duppatta and threw it off.

Though the wound was burning, it was not bleeding. So we went to office where I dropped Jiya at her creche and then went to the nearby hospital to get the wound dressed. The doc said it is nothing serious, just skin abrasion.

It is indeed God’s grace that I did not fall off the bike even though the pulling force was too much; if I had fallen, Jiya would have fallen along. God forbid, nothing like that should happen to anyone, for that matter.

All wounds are healing fast. I hope the dark cloud which was looming over my family has moved away. God save us all!

"And lead us not into temptation.

but deliver us from evil."

Kaalthala

Those came home when Jiya was one and a half month old. When I was putting her to sleep during those sleepless nights, she would always wake up because of it. It was indeed frustrating to see that. All at home would be sleeping by then and of course, who’s sitting up at 1 am, other than me trying to put the baby to sleep. I used to despise it even though it was me who asked for it. Same like what I had when I was a baby. So I used to remove it at nights and then, whenever I was putting her to sleep. So finally its location was permanently shifted to a box in the cupboard for use in future.

Last week, I brought it to light again, Jiya has been enjoying it now. She sleeps even though it tries to wake her up. When she’s sleepy, no one can prevent her from sleep. They better not try or she’ll scream your head off.

Did not get it?!!!

It’s her anklet I am talking about, to be precise “kaalthala”.  It has three jingling beads set at 120 degree angle, technically. Her grandfather aka my Dad bought it and was always trying to put it on for her while I was always removing it because she would not sleep with it on. Yes, Boo, you are right. What’s with the grandparents?

 Now, she can sleep wearing it, she has grown up, you know. And moreover, she’s throwing up her leg in the air and banging it on the floor to hear it Jingle. But the legs come down with a "Phattaak” noise, sending chills down the spine for all at home. Otherwise, she’ll roll towards the wall and bang it on the wall. She's extremely happy with it and me too. 

And Mr Dad, Happy now?

Addendum: Finally the kaalthala had to go back to its place in the cupboard and that too on the next day this post was published. One of the silver beads broke into two because of all the leg-banging of madam Jiya and I was concerned whether she'll mouth the silver beads after breaking them.

In Memoriam

This post is dedicated to an integral part of the family which was lost eight years back. Till this date, our family has not come over the loss and maybe, would never do.

Here I am referring to my maternal Uncle. Jacob was his name, Teaching was his passion. Mathematics was his subject. “Karadi”(bear) was his nickname. His students called him so, hope you have watched the Mohanlal starrer “Sphadikam” in which the father character donned by Thilakan was called the "Kaduva". So it was a similar nickname from his students.

I loved him. He loved me. I was his first niece. When I was born and he got the news from someone other than family, he did not talk to anyone and refused to have dinner. The lady who came for bathing the baby (me), went and kept me near him. That was the first meeting between us. I don’t remember exactly what happened that day, but I wish I did. When I grew up, I was taken to my maternal home by him during the vacations. I used to vomit throughout the journey in the bus from Trivandrum to Valakom. I used to fight over trivial things and run behind to hit him. All aside, comes vacation again, he’ll be there asking permission from my parents to take me to his home.

I remember fighting with him for pronouncing ‘Add’ as’ Aad’, for teasing me for writing Malayalam poems and inserting words like “kudmalam” which meant flower bud. He came and cleared all my doubts regarding Maths before my 10^th standard exams.

We lost him to a bike accident on 23^rd March 2008. The newspaper report said that he was returning from his sister’s house(my home) in Trivandrum which was not true. My mother could not bear to loss him, she was crying outside the house late night. Since my father was working away from home, my neighbour dropped us in our car at my mother’s house. The whole street was empty and looking eerie in the darkness when we reached. My father came with my mother’s sisters from Thiruvalla. No one had the courage to go in to the house to which he would never return again.

My younger uncle had to be called from the India-Bangladesh border. He was heartbroken, sitting in a corner, he did not cry, he did not move…he could not believe. Five days after his death, we buried him. All his relatives from abroad had to reach. His body was kept for “pothudharshanam” in his school and later in his house. That is when I realised he was not what I saw, he was much more than that.

How I wish he was among us today…to be there with me on my wedding, to watch me and my husband live as a family, to see my daughter and pinch her like how he did to me.He must be watching us from the heavens and smiling at us.

It is a big loss for my little plum, I wish she had him. Nevertheless she has Renimummy (his wife) to mother her. We owe our lives to her for being there always, for all of us.

Our salutes to him for the salutes we receive when people realise we are part of his family

Battle against "The Guilt"

Yes, I’m already in the middle of it.” The Working Mom’s battle against guilt”

I had to join back to work when Jiya was exactly 4 months, 2 weeks and 6 days old. Though I requested for an extension of leave, my company’s HR policy did not allow me to do that. But the silver lining is that we have a creche run by a third party within our premises and can bring our child from 6 months onwards. I had almost quit my job as I was in the pessimistic end of the waiting list for the creche. But by God’s grace, there was some rearrangement after which I was confirmed admission for Jiya.

Since Jiya was only little more than 4 and a half months old then, I had 6 long weeks before I could take her to the office creche with me. So I send SOS signals to both my mothers who gave a heads up for me to proceed. My mom came in for the first week, more than that she could not stay as she’s also working. She started the procedure of weaning which was painful for me, for any mom, in fact. But nevertheless, I did not want Jiya to be crying while I went to office. Children are happy when they are fed well, right? I was imagining my mom’s plight when I did not eat anything when I was small. Scary it would have been for her also.

So the first week went off quite smoothly which gave me confidence to continue. By “smoothly”, I meant she was not crying in my absence but my heart definitely was missing her. She was feeding on my milk (expressed and stored in fridge), Bottle milk, dried banana powder and ragi. She quite enjoyed her menu, much to relief of the family, my extended family also. They were all happy that Jiya did not inherit my eating habits. What no one knew was that the only 2 things I prayed while I was pregnant were:-

• My child should not be reluctant to have food ( because my mom had tough time with me)
• My child should be able to sing (which is yet to be confirmed)

Before the first week concluded, before my mom returned to Trivandrum, we got a domestic help from Kerala. So my mother briefed her about the roles and responsibilities of the new post and conducted the induction training. So my MIL joined us to help us through this difficult journey. Now Jiya is being looked after my MIL and the maid while I’m away at office.

This is the fourth week of the journey. And ask me how it feels. I’m picking my pace at office. Jiya has got used to her schedule without me from 10.30am to 9.30pm. But she gets restless from 8pm until I return home.

The best part of it is…she laughs out loud upon seeing me come inside the house and she kisses me too, and that too thrice (not less, not more). Nobody taught her all that…kids are too fast and understanding. Grownups need to grow up to them and preserve their qualities all through the life.

The worst part is, today I had to detach her forcibly from me to catch the office cab, and it was heartbreaking. If it is a battle, someone has to get hurt; sometimes all are hurt. Jiya cried but understood me and went to my MIL. It was me who was disturbed all through the day in office.

Life, as they say, is like this…