The peace and joy and wonder of childhood!

You know what day it is today? It’s my yearly blog post update day! Yay! Look I just wait for something to really move me before I type. So some of you know that I am setting up a new business, this post is not about that, since if I were to start writing about that I will not be able to find time to set up the business any more. All I can say is its much more resource, money, time intensive than you first imagine it to be, but more on that later, maybe or maybe not. Back to what moved me.

So, Jahnavi is now about 2 & a half and terrible twos would be a huge understatement, one dialogue between me and Ashu doesn’t go by without some background score of a-b-c-d-e-f-g-h-i-j-k-l-o-meno-p-q-your-s-t-u-v-double-u-x-y-and-zee or some other song from that genre. Dance and music is a large part of every toddler’s entertainment and mine prides herself in being a self-proclaimed ‘balina’ (meaning ballerina). We were filled with mixed emotions when her pre-school sent a letter about her participation in the annual concert, mostly we were excited but we were also sad mainly because the costume charge, ticket costs and video recording would set us back by over $100. Anyway, so that happens of coming Friday.

Now if you don’t have a toddler (you would probably not read this) let me tell you that teaching them a dance, or anything, is a HUGE task and the key is practice and more practice. Beginning of this week Janu fell ill so she couldn’t go to school, which meant she missed her practice, today was her dress rehearsal. So, giving it due importance I thought I would take her to the concert hall and get her familiar with the place, loud music, big lights etc. a tiny voice at the back of my head was telling me that wasn’t the best idea but I went anyway. You get an idea where this is leading right? Yes, it wasn’t a great idea, she cried all through the practice, did not dance at all and hated the entire experience and understandably I was extremely sad as well. Only silver lining for me was she had a very grumpy face, while all others were smiling in all her photos, which I thought I would buy at some atrocious price per print (in this era of digital photography) to show her when she would challenge me for being emotional or stupid or other such stuff few years later. Need to be prepared! You might have judged me by now as a mean parent, but I heard lately on Ellen show, ‘What you think about me is not my problem‘, so living by that these days.

She is a very thoughtful person, my little Janu! When we came back home from the concert she slept off and then when she woke up she gave me a photo opp that would save me quite a few  dollars, its a pity the powder-pack was only half full or we would have had a whiter Saturday than that! Notice how she refuses to look into the camera.

 

OMG - One Mad Girl!

 

This incident and especially this picture gave me immense joy for many reasons one of them is, as I am told, I did the same thing decades ago (I am that old! boo hoo!) with kajal and on a beautiful & aspirationally expensive dress which my folks bought to dress me up for diwali. When I did this, my mumma let me just enjoy, the dress was already painted in black with kajal smeared all over, but she let me soak the moment. Some might think that my mum at that time and now I, should have disciplined our child but I think sometimes we should just let them live as they want, not singing or dancing for other’s entertainment but their own, sometimes being covered in powder all over, or blowing bubbles on a very rainy evening aren’t these the joys of childhood that we all yearn when we grow up?

I won’t really change my parenting style but just for curiosity tell me:

Advertisements

A Moment to Forget (or Remember?)

Here’s the next entry to the ‘And then…’ contest. Just reminding, I am not disclosing the author‘s name now so that we can have a fair voting. The write-ups would be posted in the order I receive them… Here are the rules & hints and here is The Scene…

He glanced up suddenly at her, and then smiled – a bemused smile. He removed the headphones from his ears, and then studied her intently for a moment. She swallowed uncomfortably, looked at her boarding pass to check which seat she’d been given, and then cursed her luck. She was in the wrong seat.

Worse luck yet, her actual seat was just one row behind. She got up, and then looked at the numbers again.

“Excuse me,” she told the guy, who still wore the same bemused smile on his face, “But I think that is my seat.”

“So it is,” he said, getting up and moving to seat next to hers. She took a deep breath, composed herself, and sat down.

There was a loud crunch. She got up, shocked, and then winced when she saw that she had sit down on top of what she presumed were his glasses. He grinned more (what was making that man smile so much!?) and picked up the glasses. She could see that the glass had cracked.

“I’m really sorry,” she began, only to see his expression change for the first time to a frown.

“Sit down, Liz,” he said, his tone suddenly different from what it had been a moment ago. Suddenly he was no longer the polite stranger, but the old acquaintance. The shift made her heart start beating a little faster. His frown turned deeper, the chocolate brown eyes squinting in a way that she remembered rather fondly. “You do remember me, don’t you?”

How could she forget? The fairytale whirlwind romance, the wild week in paris with the handsome stranger, those days when she was happy?

“Of course I remember you,” she said, but she had to struggle for a moment to place the name. “Brian.”

“I’m glad,” he told her, and the boyish grin that she also remembered very fondly returned. “I haven’t seen you for…what…two years now? How have you been? And what’s up in Sydney?”

“I’ve been, fine,” she answered cautiously, not really sure where she wanted to take this. “Just going on a vacation…what are you doing?”

“Visiting my family. My dad lives in Sydney. You know – Rottheimer, from the Rottheimer and sons…”

His dad was the biggest business man in Sydney? Now that was really something she would’ve liked to have known before.

“So, as you’re in town,” he said with a grin, distracting her from her thoughts. “Why not join me? For, say dinner, this Tuesday?”

She opened her mouth to reply, but he ran a finger on her hand, reminding her of too many things at once, making her forget what she was going to say.

“Sure,” she said instead, and decided to leave the explanation of the fact that she had a boyfriend for another day.

Later, years later, when she tried to remember (or forget) this meeting…she felt bad – just not bad enough.

A Second Shot

Here’s the next entry to the ‘And then…’ contest. As said earlier, I am not disclosing the author‘s name now so that we can have a fair voting. The write-ups would be posted in the order I receive them… Here are the rules & hints and here is The Scene…

Here’s the next entry:

The memories were like snapshot bullets that she had been dodging for years and had finally hit her, square in the face- that face of the man who had once meant everything to her. It was overwhelming! She sat there motionless for what seemed like eternity.  The flight was in the air. She went to the washroom and barfed.

Looking into the mirror she saw how far she had come from those days. Then she had been a smiling girl in her early twenties with the glow on her face typical of those in love. The glow was gone and so was the love. The hair was shorter, sassier. The clothes were no longer t-shirts, jeans and sneakers but smart suits and stilettos. The woman was no longer the girl he had known. The only thing that connected the woman and the girl was the pain that he had left behind- the hurt that had become a part of her life and had never left.

This was probably her only chance. She walked back with a calm face; she wasn’t going to let him go this time. A deliberate trip on the Jimmy Choo and she was on him. He stared at her like he was seeing a ghost and then his expression changed. Straightening up her ruffled clothes, she looked at him and acted like she was surprised. “Matt,” was the only word she said. He looked quite taken aback himself. “Lizzie… Wow! It’s been so long. You look…look so different,” he said.

“Yes Matt. It’s been a while. You look almost the same. Nice meeting you after so long.” He did look the same. The neatly ironed shirt and trousers, the cropped spiked hair and the goofy grin were all at odds with each other but blended so perfectly on him. She wasn’t surprised that she had fallen for him. He ran his eyes appreciatively over her and she blushed. She returned to her seat but they kept talking. He was a senior editor now. They talked about old times, their college friends, work… The more they talked the closer they came; she could see that old look in his eyes. He wanted her back.

The flight landed. He invited her over. It was a cozy apartment. As she was about to go to the guest room to crash he pulled her towards him and looked into her eyes. She was uncertain; did she really want to do this? All her courage almost melted. “I missed you so much. I’m glad you’re back,” he said and leaned in for a kiss. She kissed back and soon they were in a passionate embrace. She broke the kiss and said they’d better sleep. He looked at her dazed with desire and confused. She kissed him on the cheek and went to the guest room and locked the door.

He woke up in the morning and found her gone. There was a note on her bed that read:

“I’m sorry. Goodbye.”

It was his handwriting, the note he had left for her on their bed when he went away.

In a coffee house, Liz sipped on her cup of Cappuccino and smiled. The last laugh was finally hers. And the hurt was gone. She was free.