the one about being a father

Being a father is easy. Any fool could do it. But being a good father.... that's a completely different kettle of fish! I recently read a really nice quote on fatherhood, and it went something like this: A father is his sons first hero, and his daughters first love. In my case, he was also the first man to break my heart... But moving on...
I don't subscribe to the view that we learn our parenting skills from our parents. In fact, this very misconception is what kept me from having a baby much earlier. I now know that the kind of parent you are, is most often the sort of parent you always wanted. Well this holds good for me anyway. And its enough for me. I also know there is no formula for parenting. The rules change with the circumstances, and are different for each child.
My husband is a great father. The kind of man I'm really happy to have as a father for my son. He plays with Adam even when he's tired. He bathes him, feeds him and makes up bedtime stories for him. He takes him to the park, and frets over him when he's ill. And best of all, he does these things because they make him happy! I have never loved him more than as I do when I watch him with my son...
This is what I thought about as I made this layout to celebrate the bond between my two great loves...

the one with the song

"I hear babies cry,
I watch them grow,
They'll learn much more than I'll ever know,
And I think to myself...
What a wonderful world!"
                            -Louis Armstrong


This song is by far my favorite. It has never failed to lift my spirits if  I'm ever feeling low, and just hearing the opening bars brings a goofy smile to my face.
Mr. Armstrong has made me view my little son with a certain amount of healthy respect. Everyday I watch him, I see him learn something new... Right from the moment I pushed him out of my body... How to breathe, how to suckle, how to see, how to recognize... And then later, how to walk, talk, eat.... Still later, how to run, pitch your voice to sing, co-ordinate arms and legs to throw a ball, hold a pencil to write... It'll never end my son. It's truly a wonderful world... So much to see and discover and enjoy!

I made this layout for a MME challenge. In the picture, Adam is discovering the pleasures of Peekaboo! We'd spend happy hours together hiding behind curtains, him shouting "Where's Adam? Here I am!!"

    
Thanks for looking! Have a wonderful day!

the one about the monsoon

So the Monsoon is here... The glory days of the Mango are past, taking with it the unbearable heat, the loss of appetite, and the need to bathe three times a day! The heavens have opened, refreshing the baking asphalt, washing the dust off the trees, and veiling the scorching sun so the world is bathed in a gentle light.  Now there's a new host of things to take care of. Where are the umbrellas? Is the leak from last year back? I need rain friendly shoes. Adam needs a raincoat. My appetite's back. Have to make time to workout.
But apart from all these little molehills, there are the mountains to consider... This is seriously good weather to curl up with a good book. Even better to snuggle up to a warm someone... Best of all, there's playing in the rain with a happy two-year-old! He smears himself with wet mud, hunts slippery earthworms and gathers fallen flowers with the infectious enthusiasm only little boys are capable of. My small son brings me so much joy... All I can do is revel in it, and thank God for it.... and have a hot bath ready for him...  

the one about men

I think men are simple. They belong to the same species as us women, and thats where the biologists are wrong. But biology is a science, and the study of men is not a science but an art. Men are so different from us that it required a certain psychologist and author to compare us to two separate planets to drive home his point! I consider myself quite an authority on men and how they think, and I here's how I got that way.
I was born 13 months before my brother, and life threw at us so many brickbats and curve balls, that learning to dodge them drew us extraordinarily close to each other. He came to me with every single problem and I helped him out as best I could. Sometimes helping him out took the risky form of prompting him with the right spelling, while our tyrant mother was distracted, all the while keeping one eye on her current weapon of choice. Sometimes it involved gaping liked a fish out of water as he told the above mentioned tyrant an outrageous lie with such sincerity, that even Thomas (known for his untrusting nature) would believe. Once it involved pulling his foot out of the space between the railway sleeper and the metal track while a train screamed its shrill protest in the not-so-far distance... But I learned how his mind worked. When he came to me with girl problems, I told him what to say. And I learned how his mind worked. I learned what he perceived to be a problem. These things I was able to apply to my other boy friends. And because their problems seemed so natural to me, the solutions so simple, they found it easy to talk to me. And I found it easy to understand them.
When I married Edgar, I learned new things. One of the biggest revelations I had about men was this:
WE WOMEN COMPLICATE THINGS.
I repeat, men are simple creatures. Feed them. They are easy to manage when their tummies are full. Don't deny them alcohol. It makes them want it more. Not because they want it, but because they want to feel like they have control over their decisions. Don't ask them how they FEEL. They don't know and they get totally stressed with wondering how to answer. Instead of thinking about their feelings, they're trying to figure out what exactly you want to hear. They will most probably get you wrong and you'll end up fighting. Don't try to protect them. Let them ride their big bikes and play their rough games. Just pray that they break nothing more than a collar bone. Appreciate them. Everybody likes that. Smile at them. Its probably why they fell in love with you. Remember why you fell in love with him. Its probably the thing that irritates you the most about him, but whatever...
I know that apart from feeding them, the rest are virtually impossible for us to follow. I struggle with the rest everyday. But at least I try. If you want the man in your life to be happy, and the man can be your husband, your brother or your son, I suggest you try. There's nothing nicer than a happy man. He'll play with your kids, massage your feet and even do the dishes... It makes it all worthwhile...
And oh, have sex... they really love that. Its easy on you too...  

the one about happiness

I know the secret to HAPPINESS! This is my secret.
EVERYTHING I DO, I DO BECAUSE IT MAKES ME HAPPY!
Sounds strange? Selfish? Take a minute to think about it... I might like to think of myself as some kind of martyr. I may say to myself, "oh I have to do this load of laundry and most of it is Edgar's, and look at him! He's sitting there watching TV... enjoying himself!" But what's actually going on, is that at some deep primal level, it makes me feel good to be taking care of the man I love. It makes me happy to think of myself as a good wife. Not it makes Edgar happy to think of me as a good wife, but it makes me happy to think of myself as a good wife. If it really bothered me, doing the laundry, rest assured, I'd find some excuse not to do it. I'm pretty good at that. And also, now that I'm aware of the secret, I have no compulsions about not doing the laundry if I don't think doing it will bring me any significant measure of pleasure. I not worried about being thought of as a bad housekeeper. Better a bad housekeeper than a miserable bitchy wife!
The other day, I had to wash Adam's bum. Again. I was tired and really did not fancy smelling shit at that point. So I asked Edgar to do it. He said, "You do it, you're better at it than I am." Like I've done some special course in bum-washing or something! Man, was I pissed off...A thousand scathing remarks surged through my brain, rushing to the tip of my tongue like Air India hostesses going for the fruit...(non Air Indians please read: like a fire in dry grass).  But then I caught Adam looking up at us, wide eyed. Confused. My heart missed a beat. I picked him up. And began looking for things that would give me pleasure. His tiny soft bum appearing, shiny and brown, clean now. The smell of his silky hair now close to my nose as I bent over him... This moment of private togetherness, just the two of us.. And then as if he sensed it, he turned up his little face, pursed his lips and kissed me. Just like that, I was very happy.
I guess my point is that happiness is a very transient state of mind. I'm happier now than I was one minute ago, and not as happy as I was yesterday. Happiness comes from within and we carry it with us wherever we go. I see husbands leaving wives, wives hurting husbands all looking for happiness. You're never going to find it outside yourself. YOU are responsible for making YOURSELF happy. Not your husband, not your wife, and certainly not your kids. If they do, its because you choose to look at the wonderful things they do,and acknowledge them. And if they don't its because you're not digging deep enough..
Also, I have a list of things that make me truly happy. Simple things, like solving my crossword, dancing, music, scrapbooking, reading, a good sitcom.. Just my 'things'. Regular stuff. But I make sure I do at least one thing from my list everyday.
That's it. That's my secret.
So go out there and be happy!  

I love being your mom

These pictures were taken over Diwali. The whole family was together and it was lovely...

the one about the Hindus

My brother married a Hindu. I cannot begin to tell you how REFRESHING that was for me! She opened my eyes to strange and hitherto only imagined facets of life. From bhaji that was so tasty that one could justify the argument for being vegetarian, to wondrous stories of Gods and Kings that defy all logic and reasoning.
You see, I was brought up in an (albeit dysfunctional), Catholic home. I lived in predominantly Catholic Bandra, went to good old St. Joseph's Convent, run by The Daughters of the Cross, and my playground was the Mt. Carmel's Church compound. I was sooo catholic. I 'm not saying that's a bad thing... I mean, I can carry a tune well enough, I can jive, I can play football, and know I must say, "Switch on the light, please" as opposed to "On the lights." But the Bhaji at my house was a mess. A soggy, greenish sludge sometimes sprinkled with coconut! I'd like to see any vegetarian live in my house for a week and not reach out for the pork!
As for the mythology, not too many Catholics know the difference between Ram and Krishna! They'd probably know the odder ones... like Ganesh and Hanuman... But apart from their names and too few facts picked up from Amar Chitra Katha, not much else.
I was like them. Till I joined Air India. There I met people of other religions. People with STORIES! So on those long flights to Heathrow and JFK, instead of asking them for their take on the latest affair doing the rounds, I'd ask them to tell me a story. (Or to give me a recipe). People need to be the centre of attention. Especially the quiet, not so good looking people. And sometimes they have the best stories. (Or recipes). I'd take all these stories and file them away, for use God only knew when..
But I was always on the outside looking in. Till Owie married Priya. Now I too have a reason to celebrate Diwali. I go for puja's, and clap and sing and do Aarti... I get to wear the most beautiful Indian clothes, courtesy my generous Anju Didi. And I can tell stories to three of the most adorable little boys. Stories of Kings and Demons and Gods who walk the Earth bearing weapons that no longer seem farfetched... Though I have to admit, I don't have a good enough reason when asked why Dhashrath had three wives... but then I can't explain how Jesus could walk on water...
Us Indians, we have such a rich and colourful heritage. I'm just glad Adam has a chance to experience all of it... He's one lucky boy! Easter eggs, Santa claus and firecrackers! And guess what Catholics... Jesus is cool with this. He told me!