This is the first post I am doing after my sons met with an accident that could have been nasty. I or rather “We” are overwhelmed by the outpouring of concern from the blog world. Thanks a lot people for all the love and concern …. I have told the boys they did not earn it and should consider themselves blessed to have it.
Now we are okay …. and I would like to share with you some of the craziness that happened …… you can’t visit The Phoenix and leave without a smile can you?
4 a.m. on the day of the accident …..
Kid#1 (Bursting into the room shivering) Mom there has been a slight accident
Me (Being a typical Mother India) Show me Kid#2, I wont believe you until I see Kid#2
Kid#2 comes in with reinforcements … friends that had been called to the accident site for help. Kid#2 is looking white as sheet, friend is talking 19 to a dozen explaining how the car just got a minor scratch as it grazed a tree.
I let it pass ….
Other friends troop in – and suspicion builds – I mean these are late teen and twenty something men – who love to sleep at early hours. However I get into the tea and breakfast routine with ears tuned to the conversation.
Kid#1 to Kid#2 : Dude !!!!! I’ll talk to you later
Me: Why aren’t you drinking your tea. Why are you trembling
Kid#1 : Ma he walked out of the car, peed on the roadside and came back and passed out!
Kid#2 : Bhai you were driving the car, I was not!
Kid#1 : Blank stare, drops tea cup since he is all shook up!
Friend 1 : Aunty, the doctor says he is fine – see here is the CT & MR reports …
Friend 2 walks in half an hour later – they have a hushed conference and then they tell me that the cops have impounded the car. I start getting the feeling that a lot will be spilt later …
(Enter Pink Panther Music)
The next day we get the car home and I go ballistic …. for the whole week. The car is a wreck, and his phone is lost. (It was in the car). The TV in his room is confiscated. His lap top was giving problems so I took it away and sent it for repairs. I have yet to decide whether to give it back to him.
Yesterday the doctor said they are both fine. So I read Kid#2 the riot act!
Kid#2 : Ma I am sorry but I dont remember
Me : Humph! Of course you dont! It is not in your interest to remember!
Then I decide to play the Main Bechari act!
Me : How dare you screw up my retirement. I put my life on hold for you to grow up so that I can start living it up. You better not screw this up. And you better not pile up more expenses on me! I have two sons and they are my assets. You better not spoil the damn count!
Kid#2 : Mumble Mumble
Me : Speak clearly
Kid#2 : Last week I had a car, a t.v. in my room, a mobile phone and a lap top. Today I have nothing. Its my asset count that has been spoilt!
Me : !!! ????
I wrote a post long time back complaining that bringing up two boys without a father is stressful! Motherhood or single parenting is definitely not for wimps
My sons not only text each other from the loo, they leave us women at home and go partying out together.
Sometimes the results are disastrous
I have one pilot and one mechanical engineer in the making as offsprings
Well they have re-engineered the car – perhaps they were making it fly
Its been a long sleepless night since Kid#2 who was driving got concussed. He still does not remember how he did this. Kid#1 somehow managed to get him to the hospital, (mercifully nothing broken – just bruises).
I wanna retire from parenting
I wanna run away
BEAM ME UP SCOTTY
I am very ambivalent about karva chowth and I wrote a post last year stating my reasons which readers found hilarious. Well I am like that anyways …. 
My kids want to celebrate each and every festival with gusto, even the all female ones like karva chowth. I would doll up, do the mehendi, new dress and bangles and trinkets thingy, and then we would eat drink and be merry. Now I have happily handed over baton to DIL
I’ve told DIL she has the option to do away with the fast if she wishes. Its cool with us …
Flashback two days ago ………………………..
Kid#2 : Mom are you gonna get mehendi and stuff done?
Me : Reclining on my bed with laptop : Nah, I have done away with peripherals
Kid#2 : Why????
Me ; Astonished at such a strong reaction : I never keep the fast anyway, and am not in the mood for dolling up
Kid#2 : Launching full blown drama : You never do anything, you are not fun anymore, festivals dont feel like festivals when Bhai isnt around ………………….
Me : ??????!!!!!!!???????
Then Godji sent inspiration (Thank you Godji Phewww!)
Me : Beta Bhabhi will do all that, its her time
DIL came home dancing : See my new suit that I bought for Karva Chowth! Isnt it pretty? Kid#2 you better be home on Karva Chowth eve since you gotta take me to get mehendi done
Kid#2 : Looking much happier : Jee Bhabhi, do you also want to go to the parlour? I am so glad someone is celebrating! (The last said snidely)
DIL : After consideration : Nah parlour will be too full, besides I’ll be working full day
Me : Heaving a quiet sigh of relief : Beta, tell me what you wanna eat for sargi, I’ll cook that.
Both of them seriously discussing possible options for the early morning sargi
I never knew handing over all the stuff was so liberating!!!!
She can do the mehendi and dress and fast if she so desires!
I AM OUT OF IT!!!!
We had sargi together at 5 a.m. which I cooked early in the morning. Kid#2′s craving for some festival celebration got satisfied, DIL and I left for work! I think I narrowly escaped the dog house!!!
Old readers of my blog would know that at home Kid#1 and Moi are the ‘cookers’ and Kid#2 and DIL the ‘eaters’. Works well for us, more since DIL (smart goil) threatens to feed us meals made by her. Mercifully she hasnt made good her threat. Hmm Yeah she made Egg Onion Bake which was okay. She made chicken once and it was HOT. We had to call the fire brigade Phew!!! It was tasty though. 2 dishes in three years – she needs to make one more dish, to make it one dish a year. Must tell her! But I digress
My attitude towards cooking is : Meal is on the table. I am eating. You guys can eat when you want to. I finish my meal and get back to my computer or TV or whatever …..
Kid#1 is harmonal. I am not kidding at all. He freaks out and when he is cooking no one hangs around the kitchen. He is holy terror. Once he has laid the table and put food, you are, at the pain of death, supposed to drop everything and hot-foot to the table, or he will sulk, throw a tantrum and make life unpleasant.
Yesterday I wandered into the kitchen and decided that I would have a sinful breakfast. Yeah I get that mood, and when I get it, I never get to eat anything good, fattening and sinful. Sulk Sulk
I checked the freezer and there were these thick yummy looking hot dogs lying there, and I pulled them out. Kid#1 landed up
Kid#1 : What you doin?
Me : Breakfast time, I want something that takes time digesting. I dont want oatmeal today
Kid#1 ; Snatching the packet out of my hand : Those are not sausages, they are chorizo
Me : Trying to unsuccesfully grab the pack : They look like sausage and I wanna eat it. I like eating stuff I dont know how to spell
Kid#1 : Shoo! Shoo! I am doing breakfast
Me : Not liking being shooed out of the kitchen : Okay I’ll make me some chow mein. Want some ?(while picking up the packet of fresh noodles fm the fridge)
Kid #1 : Snatching that damn thing out of my hand too : This is unhealthy, throw it
Me : This was tantrum time : I LIKE IT. I wont throw it! (and I huffily stomped into my room)
5 minutes later the most divine smell came from the kitchen. I landed up there, and seeing that Kid#1 wasnt around I decided to taste a slice of the whatchamacallit sausage look alike. My bad luck, Kid#1 caught me in the act and freaked out. He stopped cooking and went up in a huff.
I ate a slice of bread with a glass of milk – told ya about the “wanting to eat sinful stuff and not getting to”. Kid#2 wisely stayed in his room. DIL scolded Kid#1 for being harmonal and me for …… being me I guess
I went off to spend quality time with an old female friend.
Today the maid packed some of that scrambled egg with sausage thingy in my lunch. Dahlins it was delicious. Well I cant let it go – can I?
Rang up Kid#1
Me : Hey that thing u made for breakfast was yummy
Kid#1 : Its called chorizo and I am not gonna talk about it
Me : The maid packed it in my lunch box – its delicious
Kid#1 : (Coldly) I did not eat it and we shall not talk about it
Me : Your bad luck. Its not as though you got your chums or are preggers. I am menopausal and even I dont throw such tantrums. Tell you, its yummy
Kid#1 : We shall not talk about it, like I said
Me : But we are ….. Its yummy
Silence …………………….
Me : Have I irritated you enough
Kid#1 : Wish you were my age and I could curse you
Me : You wanna use the F word?
Kid #1 : Phone disconnected
Man! Sometimes having kids to torture is such fun!!!!
There are some type of spectator sports I have never seen much point in. I had a friend who used to watch exercise videos over and over again, and then nod and grin happily “Work Out Over”. May be he liked to watch the PYTs waggle their tush at the camera.
I never much understood the craze for blue flicks either. I would take pointers from them alright in my young age, but why watch some one else have all the fun? I just did not get it. I mean how about getting those eyes off the TV screen and on me? A woman has the right to feel neglected you know. Besides those women are some fierce competition. Imagine having to do such intense gymnastics in bed! I am sure men would not agree to this point – but this is a woman’s point of view.
That said and done, sitting and convalescing in bed has introduced me to another kind of spectator sport – one that is totally enjoyable and tax free. Watching my children living their lives. It is bliss.
You know, I started blogging to get over the empty feeling as the kids grew up and the real fear of becoming irrelevant to my children – which I assure you, I have. They tell me, quite happily, that I am old and my time has gone. What they do not know is that my time has come NOW. I dont have to change diapers, wash white school uniforms and tennis shoes (who on earth told schools they could use that color for uniforms BTW, certainly not a mother!), tolerate rock music at volumes that dislodges dental fillings, pick up wet towels from e v e r y w h e r e. I am like the President of India, the TOPDOG, the Big Momma and I do not even have to do anything to secure my position. Snigger Snigger – I even have veto power. :)
I wake up to hear some whispered conversation. It takes me time to get off the bed post surgery … but I still soldier on valiantly to eavesdrop investigate
Kid#2 : Bhabhi please …..
DIL : No, I will tell Mom
Kid#2 : Bhai, please ………….
Kid#1 : Dude, convince HER
Kid#2 : Bhabhi, Mom is ill. We cant upset her …….
DIL : You should have thought of it before bunking so much
(This world lost an awesome school marm the day this girl joined the field of interior designing! The kind that makes kids pee in their pants)
The volume of their voices drops for a bit while I strain my ears at the door
DIL : I dont always get my own way, ask HIM
Kid#1 : Rising nobly to the occaision : I let her get her own way ;)
Aha, such delusions LOL
Kid#2 : Exactly Dude, you let her get her own way, and I have to listen to her
Laughter all around
Me : Walking in to the living room : What’s the joke?
DIL : Quickly pouring me a cup of tea : Nothing much Mom, how do you feel.
While I sit down she adds :
We are going with Kid#2 to his college ….. I wanted to meet the HOD
Me : Why?
DIL : Just like that ……, besides I wanted to see the campus.
They quickly changed the topic
Me : Oh while you are there, will you check his attendance? I got a call from the college, while I was in hospital.
Stunned silence from the conspirators
Hyuck Hyuck
My father was a very indulgent husband and a cool parent. He married my mother when she was barely sixteen and was often known to remark that he brought up three kids. He always added Jee to her name and addressed her as Tussi or Aap. Karva Chauth was big in our home. Two weeks to D-day he took Mom shopping and bought her new clothes, a day earlier, matching bangles and trinkets etc were purchased. He would wake up early and have sargi (breakfast before sunrise) with Mom. On that day, we were told to curb our energies and tip toe around because Mom was fasting. He would come back early from office and depute us on roofs and trees to keep a watch and holler when moon was sighted so that Mom could break her fast. Sigh! It was sooooo romantic.
Naturally I also kept the Karva Chauth. And naturally it did not go too well for me. I just dont have that kind of luck you see. During my harmonious freakingly stormy wedded life, there were wars, and there were short intervals of I’m too tired to fight uneasy breathers. We had a biggggg fight on one Karva Chauth when ex said something majorly caustic and rushed out to work. He is King of Sarcasm. I totally lost it. In retrospect, I think it was because I could not top that one as he had left. It was so frustrating, you know. I could think of a dozen things to say which could top his lines, but he had effin left!!! I did not want to keep the fast for him. In fact I felt majorly martyrd by the entire concept of being hungry and thirsty for the entire day. I had cooked a sumptious feast for the sargi which was still lying on the dining table. So I sat down and ate. I was not hungry (I had already eaten sargi) but I ate the paranthas, the sewian, the gulab jamuns even though I felt sick. Yes I am a spiteful cat if you rub me the wrong way.
Stop pretending to be shocked, its all a myth okay. Nothing bad happened to him. He is still alive and healthy, and being tiresome. It takes more than a couple of aloo paranthas eaten by an angry wife on Karva Chauth to kill a person.
Stop laughing!!!
DIL asked me the first year of her marriage about what to do for Karva Chauth and I told her “Beta keep it for one year, after that, if you dont want to, dont. Doll up, apply mehendi, pamper yourself. The fast is optional” and I told her this tale of mine. She found it insane and repeated the damn thing to her mother and sister. I know I know, I shouldnt have told her! Her mother told me, “Both you and my daughter have the same nature”. Ah well, I have decided to take that as a compliment.
She looked lovely all decked up last year (It was her first Karva Chauth) and has just informed me that she wants to keep it again this year. Awwwwww, sooo romantic. I am so happy that she is keeping it for her own sentiments and out of her own free will. Of course I am also so happy that I dont have to keep it.
Edited to add: Both the lovebirds are keeping the fast – for each other. I am so impressed!
What can I say, here I was, walking the air nicely like the cartoon network character I talk about when I came upon this post and plummetted downwards AAAIIIIIIEEEEEEE. I am totally freaked out – am reminded of ex’s caustic remark when I was home for a long period on maternity leave. He told me ever so sweetly “Get yourself a job – any job. Dammit I’ll pay your employer salary to keep you busy”. All I did was clean his cupboard and give away all his old clothes. Oh yeah, I also fumigated the entire house, cleaned the kitchen etc etc. The thing is – I’ve got to keep busy. I can not sit and do nothing at a stretch. It makes me bitchy and temperamental. I also like earning money (who doesnt heh!) and being independent.
I think that this so-called retirement concept is total bullshit. A mother never retires and neither does a housewife – and they do more laborious stuff than a normal office worker. Even actors dont retire, they become Moms and Dads and such like stuff. So why should we?
In our culture, age is respected. Greying hair and daughter in laws/grandchildren give us the aura of wisdom (never mind if we colour our hair and go ahead and blog about boobs and wrestling heh!) I feel that we should be given a chance to work until we are ready to call quits. Of course I have no retirement plans or funds (I never plan) though I have a vague idea of packing bags and baggage and moving to Punjab or Kasauli or someplace cheaper and more friendly than the NCR.
I have seen how the elderly live in the NCR. Its a lonely life and its boring. Get up early, go for a walk, bring milk for the family. Then go to the temple, spend time there, come back with vegetables from the vendor. Then sit and read the newspaper, watch television, while away time. Then its lunch. After lunch, take a nap, wake up and spend time with grandchildren (if the grandchild is in the mood to spend time with you), then evening walk in the park, come back home. More television and then sleep. I guess it would kill me, if retirement did not. I think life in a smaller town or a village would be better – where life is slow and people are more approachable.
I am not even talking about money – I have this belief that if you are educated, you can look after your own needs. No one ever could make enough to fulfill the greeds any way – so why get into that. It is things like the fear of being redundant, being irrelevant and lonely that are scaring me. For many years, I have been at the helm, both at office and at home and this is a feeling that is new to me.
I would welcome inputs from others reading this blog …… what does one do when your employer thinks that you are old and do not have to work, and your family has grown up and does not need you? How is one to cope with being sidelined after being on centrestage for such a long time?
What can I say, here I was, walking the air nicely like the cartoon network character I talk about when I came upon this post and plummetted downwards AAAIIIIIIEEEEEEE. I am totally freaked out – am reminded of ex’s caustic remark when I was home for a long period on maternity leave. He told me ever so sweetly “Get yourself a job – any job. Dammit I’ll pay your employer salary to keep you busy”. All I did was clean his cupboard and give away all his old clothes. Oh yeah, I also fumigated the entire house, cleaned the kitchen etc etc. The thing is – I’ve got to keep busy. I can not sit and do nothing at a stretch. It makes me bitchy and temperamental. I also like earning money (who doesnt heh!) and being independent.
I think that this so-called retirement concept is total bullshit. A mother never retires and neither does a housewife – and they do more laborious stuff than a normal office worker. Even actors dont retire, they become Moms and Dads and such like stuff. So why should we?
In our culture, age is respected. Greying hair and daughter in laws/grandchildren give us the aura of wisdom (never mind if we colour our hair and go ahead and blog about boobs and wrestling heh!) I feel that we should be given a chance to work until we are ready to call quits. Of course I have no retirement plans or funds (I never plan) though I have a vague idea of packing bags and baggage and moving to Punjab or Kasauli or someplace cheaper and more friendly than the NCR.
I have seen how the elderly live in the NCR. Its a lonely life and its boring. Get up early, go for a walk, bring milk for the family. Then go to the temple, spend time there, come back with vegetables from the vendor. Then sit and read the newspaper, watch television, while away time. Then its lunch. After lunch, take a nap, wake up and spend time with grandchildren (if the grandchild is in the mood to spend time with you), then evening walk in the park, come back home. More television and then sleep. I guess it would kill me, if retirement did not. I think life in a smaller town or a village would be better – where life is slow and people are more approachable.
I am not even talking about money – I have this belief that if you are educated, you can look after your own needs. No one ever could make enough to fulfill the greeds any way – so why get into that. It is things like the fear of being redundant, being irrelevant and lonely that are scaring me. For many years, I have been at the helm, both at office and at home and this is a feeling that is new to me.
I would welcome inputs from others reading this blog …… what does one do when your employer thinks that you are old and do not have to work, and your family has grown up and does not need you? How is one to cope with being sidelined after being on centrestage for such a long time?
Whatever will they think of next?
I saw this news article – its a small article. Just hop across and read it – this page can wait. These people have it all – they have a system which is ready to take infants from parents if the parents can say “I can’t cope”. Now I wish we had a system where we could discard the following :
As for the losers who want to turn in their own kids to the state – they deserve a special place in hell. What were they thinking when they had those kids, anyway. I actually studied for 9 years after my first kid was born …. I know how difficult it was. I spent many sleepless nights doing assignments or nursing a colicky infant. Then there was another one on the way ….
Never in my wildest nightmares did the option to abandon my children occur to me. I was short tempered, tired, broke but even then my children were my comfort zone, one smile, one giggle destressed and recharged me.
How can people even want to do this?
