Mothers & Daughters: Appreciating the Other Side

This conversation took place a few weeks ago, while we were sitting in church waiting for Mass to begin.

Kris, in a serious whisper: "It's hard work being a mum, isn't it?"

My heart just filled up at this unexpected insight from my four-year-old. "Yes, it is." I whispered back to her, smiling mistily. We sat in a companionable silence for some time, till she turned to me and whispered just as seriously as before, "It's hard work being a daughter too."

Being in church, I had to subdue the laugh that bubbled up to a quiet chuckle. But as I sat there and thought about what she'd said, I had to agree, it's hard to be a daughter. Especially now that she has a basic level of understanding and thinks she knows all there is to know, it must be very hard to come up against the boundaries we set for her. Very hard to accept and act on our advice, when she thinks she knows best.

With all my attention focused on trying to be a good mum, and doing the things good mums should do, I don't think I'd ever really thought about our relationship from her perspective before. Smart remarks like that make me realise that my baby is a baby no longer, but very much her own person, with her own views and opinions that hubby & I need to take into account as we move ahead on this parenting journey. So I have to thank my little Kris for helping me to become more empathetic and open-minded as a mother.

On Friday, I received a wonderful bag of "surprises" that she'd made at school. It included a card, the drawing above of the two of us (did you see my green nail polish?!), a cloth bag with a similar picture painted on it, and a Mother's Day survey! It had questions on what I do, my likes and strengths, how we spend our time and so on. Her answers are both heartwarming and hilarious. They were written down by one of her teachers, and here I have to say, kudos to those ladies for getting 20 four-year-olds to answer a bunch of questions!

Highlights from the survey:

What does your Mum cook the best?
Answer: Mango curry and rice.
(Only, it's not Mum who used to make this, it's Dad! But Mum has learned how :D)

Why do you love your Mum?
Answer: Because she makes lovely cookies.
(So the way to her heart is also through her stomach!)

I love that the school has taken the effort of carrying out this little survey, as it has given us a beautiful memento of Kris at age four, how she sees me and what she values about us. It's rewarding to know that in addition to the "hard work", she sees us as having a loving and fun-filled relationship .... with food and baking being a big part of it, of course :)       

V

Looking Back at 2009

I'd wanted this to be my last post of 2009, but with one thing and another, couldn't get to it. Though its not as timely as I'd intended, I still must go ahead with it to keep a record of one of the most defining years of my life.

I have always been a creature of stability, but stability was the one thing that was a stranger last year. Barely had 2009 begun, than I was knocked off my feet with the realisation that I was pregnant. Before I could fully come to terms with it and its life-altering consequences, the physical changes hit full force, and I spent the first two months of the year in a nauseous daze. This period was a total emotional roller-coaster: wonder, resentment, guilt, excitement, depression ...... I swung between them all and more.

All thanks to God, that terrible energy-sapping nausea passed off over the next couple of months, and slowly, from the lowest point of my life, I blossomed into the best I've ever felt ...... refreshed, rejuvenated & revitalised!!!

As those first flutters of movement started within me, I began truly bonding with my baby. The nesting instinct kicked in, and I realised that while our then flat had been adequate for hubby & me, there wasn't much room to accomodate a baby and the 101 things needed to comfortably raise it. So thus began our house-hunt.

Most of our family & friends couldn't understand why we wanted to shift when I'd entered my last trimester, and I don't blame them because I too previously used to perceive pregnant women as incredibly delicate. But my actual experience was the exact opposite: I felt immensely strong!!! Firmly believing in 'God only helps those who help themselves', I put my good health to good use by actively looking for a more spacious flat.

It wasn't easy. It took much longer than I'd thought with many false hopes along the way. But right when I'd slump to thinking that maybe this wasn't possible, I'd hear some messages, either in church or on Joyce Meyer's show, encouraging me on. The message with the greatest impact came on Joyce's show. It was:

If you want to walk on water, you have to get out of your boat.

This awesome sentence not only motivated me towards getting the new flat, it has transformed my attitude towards life in general. I have always clung to stability, facing change only with great reluctance. But this one simple statement gave me the strength to be more accepting of changes, to deal with uncertainty without being afraid and renewed my faith in God and His guiding power.

That power led us to our new flat, at the beginning of the ninth month. With the support of family, the shifting and transition took place smoothly. Three short weeks before my due date, we moved in. Ten days later, my baby moved out :)

Life since then was a total whirlwind! Right after coming home, we were absorbed in planning my daughter's baptism, to be held just three weeks away due to the work schedules of my dad & sister. The occasion was a success; most of our family could make it & it was lovely to have our home bustle with so many relatives.

After this, the first major event of Kris's life, things settled into a routine.... for a bit! Both my mom & MIL had come to stay with us. Under their care & support, I recuperated and hubby & I both received a proper initiation into parenting. There were so many things that seemed so frighteningly huge at first: feeding, diaper-changing, massaging, bathing the baby ..... even just learning how to carry her properly, soothe away her tears. But with the guidance of our mothers, we learned.

Around this time, I heard another message on Joyce's show:

God is a God of excellence; if you want to be a real worshipper, you must be excellent too, especially in the mundane, ordinary things of life.

It hit home, and it hit hard. No, its not that overnight I have become this super-excellent person (just look at this blog post, for example ...... its been languishing half-done in my drafts folder since last month!) But that awareness that I can improve - that I'm expected to improve - has set in, and now, in every big or small thing I do (and in many things that I've yet to get around to doing!), there's a voice going "excellence, excellence" in my head. Honestly, I wish I could shut it up sometimes; its bloody difficult pursuing excellence especially when your biggest faults are laziness & procrastination. But I cannot hush it.......

So anyway, that again spurred me on to give my best towards everything. These messages, and the absolute belief that God was watching over us, gave me the strength & courage to accept uncertainty when our new routine was shaken up: first my mom had to leave way earlier than expected, then MIL had to go home for a few days, leaving hubby, me & our baby alone for the very first time.

Well, we were not completely alone; we did have a truly wonderful maidservant who took care of the cleaning. But still, it was my first time running the house, handling the cooking & taking care of the baby by myself (while hubby was at work, at least), ....... and I did it. Hubby & I both did it. We used to function well as husband & wife; now we learnt to function well as papa & mama too :)

The last few weeks of 2009 were again a bustle of activity as we prepared to travel to the UAE, to spend Christmas with my family. Not just hubby & me, everybody was apprehensive about how Kris would handle her first flight. Very fortunately, she remained as cool as ever through the journey (I pray this continues whenever she travels!)

The few days that hubby was here too now just seems a blur, but a wonderful one! Christmas was heart-warmingly crowded, with my uncle & family and some other relatives all gathered at our place. Hubby had to leave a couple of days later, and so he was the only one missing here when 2010 entered.

For me, 2009 zipped by so fast, I still find it unreal sometimes that we're in 2010, more so because 2009 was such a momentous, life-changing year! It was not just becoming a mother, it was also those two messages that make me feel like a different person. Which way this new year will take us, I don't know. The only constant is the infinite grace of God, and in that infinite grace, the support of the wonderful family He has blessed me with. As long as I have these two things, I'll be fine.

So now, finally, I can bid a proper (and a looong overdue!) goodbye & thankyou to 2009, and look forward to the rest of 2010!

A very happy & blessed year ahead to all who read this!!!

Our First Conversation!

My 3-month old girl: Heh!

Me: Heh!

She: He-eh!!

Me: He-eh!!

She: HE-EH!!!

Me: HE-EH!!!

And so on and so forth for another minute or so, volume getting louder & louder, till:

She: HE-EH-(hic)-EH!!!!!

Me: ????

She: HE-(hic)........(hic)........

Reduced to hiccups by the sheer force of her "Hehs", thus ended our first mother-daughter chat!!!

When "Justice" Itself Is Injustice

In the initial weeks after the 26/11 attacks, when Ajmal Kasab became the face of the worst terror strike our country has seen, a debate raged as to whether or not he deserved a fair trial.

I remember commenting on one blogger's furious tirade for him to undergo every physical torture possible, that, no matter how heinous the crime, the system had to be allowed to function; if we set a precedent of executing even one criminal without trial, slowly but steadily the system would lose meaning. So even though my gut reaction demanded that he be mercilessly crushed right away, my sanity reasoned that the justice system had to function.

In the year since, the justice system has "functioned", it has "functioned" to the extent of 31 crores, and is still "functioning".

31 frikkin CRORES!!!!

Thoughts of 26/11 haven't been far from any Indian's mind over the past few days, and one of the things I wondered about was how much it was costing to keep Kasab alive. But never did I imagine it would work out to 31 crores! And counting!!!

Yes, he absolutely deserved a fair trial, but come on, when the whole damn world knows he's guilty, how can it possibly take so long to sentence him??? How much more evidence, how many more witnesses does the court need??? The mind reels when it thinks of all the good uses that much money could've been put to.

Is our coastline better protected than it was last year?

Are our policemen better equipped than they were last year?

Are we more secure than we were last year?

NO.

But yes, Ajmal Kasab is better protected and more secure and probably more well-looked-after than he's ever been in his whole life, courtesy the Indian government. The system that should've dealt with this in a matter of months, if not weeks, has churned on for nearly a year, until the whole thing is nothing but a farce. This prolonged pursuit of justice itself is the greatest injustice being done.

No one is going to feel any better the day Kasab dies, because killing him doesn't bring back those lost that day. No one is going to heave a sigh of relief, because we know there are many more Kasabs out there. But Kasab must be killed, and must be killed soon, for no other reason than to stop this ridiculous drain of resources, resources which could be diverted elsewhere to actually accomplish something positive.

Keen on Clean: Thanks Mom & Dad!!!

So this is one of those times when I've read something that just compels me to post immediately (or as 'immediately' as my lil baby will allow :D) I was casually bloghopping this morning, when I saw on someone's blogroll, a post with the intriguing title "No one ever thanked their mom in an acceptance speech for keeping the house clean".

I was ridiculously happy on reading it; I mean, there I was battling an oncoming headache, trying to think positive and keep it at bay and then I read this post, was grinning from ear to ear, all potential aches & pains vanquished!!! That's how great it feels to know that there are other people who take cleanliness very seriously, because as I have resignedly observed, most of the people I know, don't.

And I guess that's due to the fact that as Sraboney Ghose titled her post, no one ever thanked their mom in an acceptance speech for keeping the house clean. As my mother noted several times over the years, housework is a thankless job; there's no reward in it other than your own satisfaction of living in a clean home and the occassional recognition from those rare souls who think like you.

Growing up, both my parents raised us to be particular about cleanliness. We pitched into help and did whatever mom asked us to do (sometimes a bit later than when she wanted it done :D). We enjoyed living in our clean & beautiful home, but I have to admit that most of the time, especially in my younger years, I took it for granted. It was only towards the end of my teens and later that I really started observing other houses, seeing the very noticeable difference between others' and my home, and realizing the worth of my mother's tireless daily efforts.

But this post is not so much about her's or my dad's hard work, as it is about my response to it. Sraboney's post drove home a point: it struck me that, in comparison to how much sweat & blood they've given to the maintenance of our home, I haven't thanked them nearly enough. Sure, I've mentally thanked God countless times for parents like them, but I haven't said it to them as often as I should have.

I have been a homemaker for almost two years now and try daily to live up to the same values my parents instilled in me. I have an additional responsibility now of fostering the same in my little girl, and its easier said than done. Looking back at my own life, I know how many years it took me to realize what my parents had done (and are still doing!), let alone acknowledge & appreciate it.

My mother once said that its thanks enough when she comes to my home and sees that I'm living the way I was raised, that I run my home the way I was taught. But a verbal (or written!) expression of gratitude never hurt anyone, right?

I might never have a chance to deliver an acceptance speech in front of the world, so I guess my blog is as public as it gets for now. Nonetheless, Mom & Dad, from the bottom of my heart, THANK YOU FOR RAISING ME TO KEEP THE HOUSE CLEAN!!!

Going Ga-Ga Over Gu-Gu!

My baby girl is nearly 10 weeks old now, but even within this short span of time, she's changed (and changing!) so fast!!! Its not only her appearance, but also her personality. The near-silent, frail little child who only uttered the softest mewling cries post-birth is now a sturdier, bigger version who's not shy at all about being heard!

While previously she only tested her vocal range in terms of how loudly she could yell, these days she's started making those typically baby gurgling sounds and its the cutest thing ever!!!

Her word of choice as of now is "uh-gu" with the ocassional variation thrown in, so when she's awake & content, that's what our vocabulary gets reduced to :D We're gu-guing and gurgling and coochie-cooing, and sometimes (when we go a bit overboard, I think :D), she looks at us with this half-curious, half-amused expression almost as if she's thinking: "What the hell???? These guys are supposed to be the adults!!!"

But its not as if we're only indulging in baby talk; I've read about the importance of speaking to babies early on itself and so I keep talking to her just about everything and anything, not at all difficult if you're me ..... I can yammer on and on and relentlessly on ...... all in the hope of hearing one little "uh-gu" :) That's the sound that makes our day these days!

The Best of Us!!!

I'd mentally started off on this post a hundred times, but floundered when it came to taking it forward. It wasn't for a lack of things to write about; rather, just like it happened after marriage, I feel waaaay too much for words to express.

So I'll just simply shout it out from the rooftop (or rather, my laptop :P), that

I have a DAUGHTER!!!!!

God!!!! I remember the first time I used the words "my daughter" in a conversation some weeks ago, I stopped mid-sentence, wondering if it had all really happened or if it was a dream. Well, it did really happen, so here's the when, where & how:

'When' was 31 Aug - she surprised us by arriving a week before the due date :) 'Where' was Bangalore and 'how' was a normal delivery (thank You God again!!!!), following a completely "uneventful" - to use the word from my medical file - pregnancy (more heartfelt thanks to God).

But while the pregnancy itself was uneventful, life in the last trimester and in the two months since certainly has been very eventful, hence the long absence from the blog. I missed this space terribly, missed writing, not to mention the dear friends I made here (thanks to all of you who enquired about us!), and I definitely will catch up with everyone soon. Now that I've put up this initial piece, hopefully the blogging will pick up pace again.

In the meanwhile, here's my darling little Kristyn, born a mini replica of her papa, but now slowly starting to look like me. Either way, she remains the best of us :D

Spellbound: How It All Started

April 2002.
It was almost the last week of our vacation in Dubai. We were staying at my aunt's place and on the particular weekday afternoon that this story begins, my uncle was at work, the older of my two cousins was at school, my parents were off browsing kitchen appliances or something, and since at 18, I didn't give a damn about cooking, I was stuck at home with my sister and the younger cousin running amok, and my aunt who was escaping for her siesta.

I had already emailed & chatted with my friends back in Bombay, the younger kids were getting on my nerves, there was nothing good on TV and what I was desperately craving was a good book. Reading has always been my favourite pastime and though there was a library just up the road, it would open only in the evening, meaning that I was facing a long afternoon of utter and complete boredom.

On arrival itself, I had checked out my cousin's book collection, but the reading choices of a 7-year old are obviously limited. I definitely didn't want to read Panchatantra or Aesop's Fables, and of Enid Blyton's many books, I've always preferred the school and mystery series over the magic tales on my brother's bookshelf.

But there was something else on that shelf, something that I'd already sneered at and then dismissed without another thought. On that afternoon though, Bored Beyond Belief, I reconsidered. An old friend's passionate pleas echoed in my head: You have to read it, you just HAVE TO.....its awesome!!! I had just as passionately argued back: its hocus-pocus for kids!!!! To which my friend emphatically declared that there was NOTHING kiddish about it!!!

Thinking some book was better than no book, I resignedly curled up on the sofa with Harry Potter & The Chamber of Secrets, and with a highly skeptical look on my face, I read ........ and read, and read, and read ........ till the next thing I knew, it was evening and my blissful solitude was shattered by everybody else returning home and making plans for dinner out.

How can I go out, I thought wildly. How would I find out who the heir of Slytherin was?? What if it were Harry himself??? What was this monster in the Chamber???? What if it killed off one of the characters, characters who, in just a few brief hours, I already thought of as friends.


And then an even worse thought struck me: what of the story after this book???? The fourth book in the series - Harry Potter & The Goblet of Fire - had been released some months earlier and with it, Pottermania had hit India big time. I had scoffed at the fools who'd queued outside bookshops hoping against hope they'd be lucky to get a copy ...... but now I totally empathised!!!


My mother has always been against buying fiction, and she has a point: with us being members of two libraries, we usually got to read the latest books for a negligible monthly fee, and, most importantly for my mom, we didn't fill up precious storage space with books that we'd likely never re-read. So I knew there was no convincing her to let me buy the book. And the chances of getting a copy from the libraries back home any time soon were very, very slim, what with so many Potter fans around.


The only hope seemed to be the library up the road. I insisted on going there that very evening, though I still hadn't finished the second book. I practically ran there, hoping, yet not daring to hope too much in case it was all in vain. But, Hallelujah!!!! There they were, all four books in the series sitting pretty on a shelf!!!!

However, now I was in a dilemma: which to take??? The situation demanded some quick thinking and advance planning (Ma, you'd have been proud!!!) I knew for sure that the first book had been lying around in one library back home and since I'd already begun from the second book, I figured the first could wait some more. But I was still only halfway through the second ...... would I be able to finish the third and the fourth, which is a really chunky volume, especially since I had just a week, and that too with many outings planned???

I had to try, didn't I? :D

And with a single-minded determination that would've produced wonders had I applied it to academics, I gave my goal my all. Not stopping to savour the thrilling end of the second book, I dived straight into the third. But the leap to the fourth was not as direct; I had to go back and re-read the third book's climax, because it is just ....... beyond thrilling!!! My vocabulary can't do justice to just how shockingly brilliant it is, so lets leave it at that.

However, that little deviation cost me precious time: with everything else that was going on, we now had just two days left in Dubai, and the mighty Goblet of Fire loomed large before me. I was facing my single greatest reading challenge in the midst of more going out and the added burden of packing ........ and I can both proudly and humbly say, that I did it!!!! I finished reading Goblet of Fire in two days!!!

Back in Bombay, I caught the first Potter movie on TV before I could read the book (and someday perhaps I'll do a post on exactly why I loathe all the Potter films so much!), and eventually re-read the others too. My mother not believing in instant gratification, we had to wait a while for the fifth book; it arrived a few months after the release as a wonderful surprise gift from the parents :). Same with the sixth book. I was working when the last one released, so that was my treat to my sister & me.

April - May 2009.
By mutual agreement, my sister had kept the Harry Potter series. So naturally, on this visit home, reading the whole saga from start to finish was high on my list of things to do. I have lost count of how many times I've read them all in these past seven years; but on each occassion, the magic of J.K. Rowling's writing is still powerful enough to make me forget all other hobbies & interests. No other books have captured my imagination as completely as this lot, and I think that will be the subject of a future post - why I love this series so much. In the meanwhile, in the current reading session, I am off to embark on the final part of Harry's tale, as spellbound as I was the first time.

Not Just an Economic Crisis

And so again after a visit to Renu's blog, I'm compelled to convert a comment into a post, because one thought led to another which led to a third ..... so on and so forth, till its just too long in the comment form.

Straight off, let me say that I struggled mightily with economics and finance in my formal education and still do not fully understand the intricacies of both. But what I do understand very clearly is this: you violate His laws, you will pay a price someday. As you sow, so shall you reap, or to borrow my sister's favourite acronym, JKVB - Jaisi Karni Vaise Bharni (and now look at the amazing coincidence that as I was going through some of my regular blogs, I came across Goofy Mumma's latest!)

In many places, I recall the current economic crisis being described as the failure of the capitalist philosophy. I disagree.

I see this crisis as the failure of regulatory authorities who should've ensured organizations didn't overstretch their limits. I see this crisis as a failure of organizations themselves in that they were over-ambitious. Most importantly, I see this economic crisis as an after-effect, the result of a much more deeper cause: a moral, ethical & spiritual failure.

Very simply, people got greedy.

Right from childhood, we're taught that greed is bad. In fact, Christianity considers it as one of seven deadly sins. Deadly sin. I find it really amazing that people get so immersed in their careers and money-making that they forget these basic truths along the way. Many will scoff at anything to do with religion & spirituality; they outright dismiss simple values as 'touchy-feely crap' and see them as having no connection to the "business world".

And yet, when this crisis first erupted, and companies - supposedly well-established industry giants - started collapsing one after the other, the first thing people ran towards was God. Churches, in New York City especially, reported record attendance as desperate souls from the corporate world turned to Him for some way out of the mess they'd gotten themselves into.

I repeat: you violate His laws, you will pay a price someday. You can't ..... restrict God to a slot in your life. You can't say, ok God, I'll come see you in so&so place of worship, I'll give some money to xyz charity and that's it, be happy with that, what I do in my job is my business, not Yours.

Many people (including some members of my own family), believe that their "security" and their "status" lies in the size of their bank balance. Everything else comes in second to the all-important goal of money. Instead of work being a part of life, it becomes their whole life, to the exclusion of God, their own health and personal relationships. So when you make that sort of uncontrolled greed your way of life ....... how do you expect to walk away unscathed? And for a crisis of this magnitude to have occurred, its not just a few people here and there who went astray, but entire generations, entire societies that are to blame.

Anything taken to an extreme is bad; so the fault does not lie in capitalism per se, but in the unchecked, unbridled capitalism and materialism. I still believe in the capitalist philosophy, so long as we operate within a moral and ethical framework at the individual and the larger organizational and societal levels.

The values of hard work, honesty, saving and spending within your means are extolled by most faiths, and they are meant to guide us in all aspects of life. They are NOT irrelevant or outdated in present times however "modern" we consider ourselves, and whatever our accomplishments, none of us is above them. Provided we adhere to these guidelines, we have every right to enjoy the fruits of our efforts.

More Money, More Faith?

I got started on this post quite a few days ago when I read this terrific piece by Amrita, but with one thing and another, blogging took a backseat and I couldn't complete it with the same steam that I had begun. I also needed time to think, to do a little introspection and get my thoughts in order. I feel very passionately on these subjects and can be very vocal on them, so some distance was needed if I wanted to produce a coherent post. Hopefully, I've succeeded.

My first instinct right after reading Amrita's post was to rant about how people needlessly fritter small fortunes away on flowers, garlands, fireworks and other frivolities.

Does He really need them? In the grand scheme of things, what are a few flowers offered at any one place of worship when you compare it to the vast variety He Himself has created? And fireworks ..... the lakhs and lakhs spent on them! One explosion of sound, a few seconds worth of flash and glitter and poof! Its over. How does that match up to the unimaginable wonders that exist in His universe - the stars, the shooting stars, planets, comets, galaxies that have endured since beyond our comprehension?

But then a small voice in my head said: Don't I like attending mass in a clean church with fresh flowers and candles at the altar? Don't I appreciate the paintings, sculptures and other ornaments that adorn the interiors? Don't I get excited to see the extra lights and decorations at festivals? Don't I watch fireworks displays as enthralled as any child?

What about in my home itself? Don't I like to have a well-decorated altar? Don't I light candles and place flowers there? Don't I like to jazz up my home during festivals? Christ was born in a shabby little manger and there were definitely no sparkling lights, no shiny decorations around at that time ..... so why do I bother with them at Christmas?

Now let's move outside to the buildings themselves. Don't I pause to ooh and aah over a beautifully built church / temple / mosque or any other place of worship? The more exquisite the architecture and the embellishments, the more money involved in its construction. But as I gaze at them in awestruck wonder, do I care about how much it would have cost? Even if my thoughts turn to money, do I begrudge it, do I think it a waste? No ....... its for God, I'd say.

But can any human creation possibly compare to His creation???

So then why do we do it?

These things are a token of our faith, our humble efforts to honour God. I emphasize 'humble' because again, in comparison with His works, anything we do is just that - humble. And more importantly, these are mere tokens; they cannot be the sum & substance of our faith.

Many priests whose sermons I've had the privilege of hearing, constantly stressed the need to go beyond mere ritualism and tokenism and actually live our faith. This simply meant keeping the ideals of love, service and forgiveness paramount in all aspects of life, something I believe all the great religions of this world preach.

But sadly, many people seem to believe that the more money they spend on religious activities, the more God will be pleased with them. Its far, far easier to hand out some notes or write a cheque than it is to practice "love, service and forgiveness" in the daily grind of life. But ultimately, it isn't how much you have, but how you live your life that matters.

Its not that we shouldn't spend money at all on our religious functions; just as long as we remember that whatever we do, we do it to glorify Him, not to glorify ourselves. And as we spend, I think we should also remember that we are duty-bound to help those in need. There has to be a balance between celebrations, donations and trying to live our daily lives by His word for faith and worship to be truly meaningful.

Who Am I?

My masters' degree dissertation required me to do a lot of reading on workplace diversity, and then on culture, cross-cultural management, sociology, psychology and other related areas. I'll be the first to say that the final product wasn't the most sound piece of research, but what I'll eternally be grateful for is the knowledge I gained in the process.

In a word, it was mind-broadening. Not only in terms of a better understanding of why people differed culturally, but most importantly, in terms of a better understanding of myself.

Much of the material prompted me to introspect, to analyse the way I perceived and interpreted the world. It forced me to confront my prejudices, to realise that though I believed in equality, I too had racist, sexist and all other discriminatory -istic tendencies in me. But perhaps the most valuable insight was a clearer understanding of my identity -- who I am.

I didn't just randomly decide to do a post on identity; it was this thought-provoking piece by Renu that set off the introspection again. Although her post largely centers on women retaining their maiden names post marriage as part of their identity, it got me thinking about the whole issue of identity itself.

What makes up a person's identity? We each get some parts of our identity simply by being born wherever we were - we're instantly a part of a family, a society, a nation. But I think for the most part, our identity is how we choose to define ourselves, what we choose to make of ourselves.

Most people go through life without a clear understanding of their identities; they just go with the flow because that's just how things are, or feel compelled to be whatever the current media trend tells them they should be because they want to fit in. I think its just a handful of people who're lucky to instinctively know who they are. Most of us have to grapple with the issue for a long time till we arrive at that understanding.

For me, it was this particular exercise that really helped me clarify my identity. While some things were immediately obvious, I still took a few days to sort through it, but the end result was a renewed self-confidence and a sense of being at peace with myself, and that's why I wanted to share it here ....... maybe it'd be just as useful to you. I don't remember now exactly where I read it or whose concept it is (I think it was put forth by an American college professor to his students, but I'm not sure).

Basically, you divide a circle into segments representing the most vital components of your identity; the size you give each segment depends on its importance to you. (In case you wondered, no, this drawing is not a representation of my identity :), its just an illustrative example.) The dimensions here are what most people tend to include; you may want to add / subtract, again based on what you consider important.

And that, really, is one of the key conclusions of this exercise: to realise what is important to you. For many women today, the main identity clash seems to be between that of family and career. I know that prioritising one over the other can be incredibly difficult; indeed for anyone, prioritising various aspects of your identity, deciding which is more important than the others is not easy.

But its not as if you need to rank them or anything, because different situations in life call for different facets of your identity to come to the fore. In some circumstances, you'll have to put work first, sometimes you may need to put your child's need before that of your spouse, if you're watching a sports event you'll cheer or boo as a citizen of whatever country, if you read about atrocities committed anywhere you feel for the victims simply because you're human too.

So the point of the exercise is purely to determine the aspects of your identity that matter to you. What is it that fulfills you? What brings you satisfaction? What is it that really makes you happy? Because isn't that ultimately the point of life, to improve as a person and to find happiness? And how better to get there than by starting out with a clear understanding of who you are.

*******

For the curious: who am I??? I have and always will be a faith-and-family-first kind of person, happy and proud to be an Indian woman. I try my best to live up to 'Shalom' - its the Hebrew word for 'peace' from which my real name is derived. I tend towards artistic pursuits, so getting better at writing, cooking, painting, photography matters a lot. I've never been the career-driven type, though getting a good education was important, and I'm currently gearing up to face the biggest challenge of my life, and what will become the most important part of my identity for a long, long time - being a good mom!

Hello New Blues!!!

Yesterday was the first time I set foot in a department store in over two months - quite a break for a weekend-window-shopping-loving person. We headed straight to the baby & maternity-wear section, and it was such a thrill to see all the teeny-tiny lil clothes!!! Even the outfits for older kids were so unbelievably cute ...... ah, to be a child today!!!!!

But then we got down to the business at hand - getting the mama some clothes :) The maternity-wear selection was very basic at this particular store, but to my absolute delight ........ there was a pair of jeans very similar to my old favourites!!! I tried them on, and man, I cannot describe how incredibly comfortable they were!!!

In fact, I would recommend that if, like me, you struggle with a lil extra tummy weight (even ordinarily!), go in for a pair of maternity-wear jeans, seriously!!!

Bye-bye Blue Jeans

During the past couple of months, I made hay while the sun shone (and even when it didn't!): everytime we went out, I wore my more form-fitting tops ........ coz who knows when I'll be able to fit into them again??? No more right now, as I realised a couple of days earlier trying one of them on ...... the tummy has already begun its outward push!

So yesterday, I decided to reorganize one of my cupboard shelves, stacking the slimmer tees in the back. Also resigned to the back were some pants and capris, among them being my favourite blue jeans.

Now this may seem silly, but I actually had a lump in my throat as I folded this pair up. I've had them for maybe five years now, and they've been the absolute best pair of jeans I've ever owned! Dark blue, bootlegged, comfortable stretch denim that fit faithfully through thick and, ummm, not-so-thick ...... (sigh!)

I knew the last time I wore them (which was about a month ago), that it would be the last time I wore them ...... for a while at least. I was ok about it at the time, but yesterday, actually packing it off, it was like saying goodbye to a dear friend.

It was then that I realised that they were pretty much a constant companion over the last five years. Though I wear all kinds of clothing, I'm most comfortable in t-shirts & jeans, and this particular pair were the most comfy. I wore them every other week and took them with me on every trip, long or short.

And what I loved best about them was that they're not an overpriced, over-hyped "brand"; I'd bought them from a small store in Bombay for around Rs. 600-700 and despite being well-used, they're still going strong, unlike the crap from Lee / Levis which costs double that, but starts fraying out in a year (personal experience!) Comfort, style and value - all my purchase requirements met, making it one of my best buys!

Anyway, its time to move on to preggy-proofing my wardrobe now. Maternity-wear fashion is gearing up in India right now; I've seen ads of some really smart designs so hopefully I should have a lot of options that'll make the shopping fun! Top priority: a pair of comfy pants to replace my jeans ....... temporarily!

And to my beloved blues - we WILL get back together someday!!!

Great Expectations

I began this year, determined to stay optimistic and positive. But have you ever noticed, that the moment you take some important decision is exactly when life / fate / God puts you to the test? Its like He thinks, hmmm, so Shalom has decided to do so & so; well, lets see how she handles this. And BAM!!! Something happens that tests that decision's strength to its limits and my optimism flies out the window.

I am not naturally optimistic. In fact, I am the exact opposite, a total pessimist. I came to this self-realisation in college, and was quite disappointed because I'd always believed myself to be the "glass is half full" type of person. Its easy to be so when things are going great, but when problems hit, or any challenge comes my way, I realised that my instinctive reaction is full-on panic. I immediately think of everything that could possibly go wrong, and how completely unprepared and unable I am to deal with the situation.

But then I also realised something else: after the force of that initial panic ebbs a bit, I pray, and prayer and effort get me through the challenge quite well. So that's my modus operandi, that's how I function. I don't deny the panic, but I don't let it stay too long either (and here, fans of Lost might recall the pilot episode where Jack describes something similar, but I'm digressing, so back to the topic). I have to fight off the panic, I have to consciously choose to be optimistic and say, yes, I can do this, and I can do it well.

So now back to the start of 2009, where I was revelling in my optimism and the strength of my faith. Just a day later, and something happened, or rather didn't happen, that put a dent in my optimistic armour. Over the next few days, that dent became a mighty gash, and I panicked like I've never panicked before, all thoughts of optimism forgotten. I actually questioned God, why are you doing this to me NOW? We had had other plans in place, big plans, so how were we going to manage this ..... situation, along with all that???

I broke down in front of hubby, who bravely comforted me, suppressing his own worries in the face of my obvious distress. His one solution for me if I'm in doubt, is to talk to my mother who'll put us in a right perspective. And as always, talking to her helped control that panic, and then hubby & me both felt comforted. Practical as ever, she said we didn't know anything for sure as yet, and even if what we suspected turned out to be true, we could indeed manage it quite well.

Thus bolstered, I went ahead with my trip to Bombay, eager to see my mom, dad and sister. A couple of days later, something happened in the morning that completely clarified the situation - I threw up. Very resignedly, I then accepted it: I was pregnant.

After that, the changes hit almost instantly. Barely three hours into a shopping trip, I, who could happily spend a whole day shopping, suddenly turned to lead, plopping down in the nearest chair. I, who have always been a foodie, couldn't bear the sights or smells of most foods. I would bolt from the room if mom started cooking. I could keep down merely a fraction of my usual quantity of food. And though the number of times I actually threw up were very less, I spent hours feeling miserably nauseous.

When we returned to Bangalore, I went to see a gynec. At my first ultrasound scan, I lay down, and was craning my head to see the screen, not that there was anything much to be seen. I thought I could distinguish this line, so I asked the doc whether that was it. She said yes, that's your baby, and its about a centimeter big right now.

Oh, I thought, okay. She rolled the sensor thingy some more over my tummy, pressed a few keys on her keyboard, and then all of a sudden, this steady thump, thump, thump filled the room ...... and my mind went blank. I knew what I was hearing ........ but I had never imagined, never thought that there would be a heartbeat this early. Barely a centimeter big, but with a heart that thumped away strong and sure at 123 beats per minute!

Till that point, I think I'd been completely overwhelmed by the sheer responsibility we faced and how we would go about managing it; I was grappling with the nausea and crying jags so much so that I hadn't really thought about the baby itself.

Only after hearing that heartbeat, did it strike me that this is not a thing or a situation, its a new life, a new person. Hubby's best friend had a baby some months ago, and we just dote on that kid. I used to look at the new parents, and the pure love on their faces as they held their son or played with him, or just looked at him, moved me very deeply. I thought of all my blog friends here who are mothers, and the way you write about your children regardless of their ages, with so much love and joy ......

..... and it started dawning on me that we had been blessed!!!

The panic and the worry subsided then, for both hubby & me, and we started getting excited about our child. I won't say that its been all hunky-dory since then, because I went through the most intensely awful nausea, and its only in the past couple of weeks that its started to phase off. That affected my mood at times too, and it was again a struggle to not sink into a pessimistic slump.

But then, my family used to pep me up, and I would try to focus on my blessings to fight off the gloom: that we could conceive so easily when there are couples we know who have struggled to; that my parents happened to be here when we first found out and they eased hubby & me into this stage; that my mom-in-law then stayed with us a month taking care of us; that other than the nausea, I have had no serious problems ....... and so, managed to hold on to that optimism.

Last week, I completed my first trimester. This time, at the ultrasound, there was no need to strain to see anything as the image on screen was quite clear - head, body and limbs ...... our child, fully formed!!! And to our surprise, very active too, though I can't feel it yet since its only about 3 inches big! By God's grace, baby & I are both healthy so far, and I pray, and request your prayers too that we remain so.

Phew!!! Sometimes I still can't believe it ...... I'm going to be a mother!!!!!

The Weight of Happiness

Written last week, posted today thanks to the ever-unreliable services of BSNL.
------------------------

I suppose most women tend to be at their slimmest best for their weddings.

Not me.

I'd finished my dissertation - nearly a year's worth of sitting in front of the computer, my mind at work 24x7, constantly needing food-fuelling to maintain my momentum. After that, I landed a job with a 10-hour workday, again pretty much seated at a desk the whole time. Somewhere along the line, I met the man I would marry and due to various practicalities and constraints, our wedding date was fixed a scant three months later.

November was my last month at work, as I'd wanted to spend a month's quality time with my family. However, that month also brings Christmas along, highlighted by my mom's superb cooking and Christmas cakes and goodies. So even though I tried to compensate by going for walks regularly, the ultimate result was still that, at the time of my wedding, I was the plumpest (objectively, I still wouldn't say 'fattest'!) I'd ever been in my life. That's how my in-laws and the rest of hubby's huge extended family saw me for the first time, and by Kerala standards where big is beautiful, I was alright!

A few days later, after all the festivities were completed and it was just hubby & me here in Bangalore, I assumed the responsibilities of a homemaker and life settled into a happy routine.

Cut to May 2008.

My mom and her mom were coming for a week-long visit. At the airport, I rushed forward eagerly once I spotted mom, and the first thing she said as she hugged me was, "Baby, you've lost so much weight!"

"Huh", I said. "Really? Oh, I hadn't noticed."

And as strange as it may seem, I truly hadn't. It was only after my mother, who's seen me all through these years, told me that I'd lost weight, did I realise that I'd finally achieved a goal I'd been pursuing (albeit not very determinedly!) since the age of 16. Only after she told it to me, did I realise that my pants & jeans were slipping down my waist, certain loose-fitting tops and kurtis hung limply on me, and t-shirts that once had me sucking my tummy in, now fit smoothly and without any added effort from me :D

I was thrilled!!! I was beyond thrilled, I was ecstatic!!! I had finally, FINALLY done it, though unintentionally. How??? I kept asking myself. I walked regularly and played table tennis with hubby a few times a week, but surely that couldn't compare to say, the two month aerobics classes, or the three-month intense gym workouts that I'd once done (neither of which resulted in any significant weight loss).

Nor was I dieting - for a foodie like me, whose entire set of 32 teeth are really sweet, 'diet' is a bad, bad word. Some might think I was stressed out, or moping coz I was away from my family for the first time, but no, that wasn't it; I was happily married, blissfully thankful for the life I had and anyway, when I'm stressed, I pig out.

So how then? Observing my lifestyle, mom said it was simply that I was active throughout the day ..... I wasn't sitting at a desk for hours together, I was constantly moving about, cooking or puttering around the house, and that, she said, was making the real difference, of course, supplemented by the walks and table tennis.

And I was thrilled!!! I was beyond thrilled, I was ecstatic!!! Did I write this before??? Hell, yes, but I don't care because that's how ecstatic I am!!!

BUT.......

I was in the minority, the very small minority of people who were thrilled. On subsequent trips to hubby's hometown, everybody's first comment was how much weight I had lost, and all conversation would revolve around that for the next few minutes. Initially, hubby's parents kept berating him, that he wasn't taking enough care of me etc etc, till I sat his mom down, and clearly explained the above saga to her. She was sort of convinced then, but how do you explain it to scores of neighbours, friends and relatives, all firmly conditioned to think that a new bride losing weight like this surely means problems in the marriage?

And if I thought that it was only in Kerala that my weight would be an issue, man, was I in for a rethink! Friends and relatives in the UAE and more recently in Bombay were flabbergasted! Most people found it incredibly difficult to get over. Some of my more outspoken buddies exclaimed outright: "She's not happy!" with a sort of perverse glee (hmmm, I should seriously reconsider these friendships!)

Even after the initial few minutes of explanations, when the conversations were like an hour old, I would get quiet, serious-faced questions: "You're sure you're ok, na?", "There are no problems with your husband, right?" And so on and so forth.

Only four people in Bombay, seemed genuinely delighted by the slimmer me and told me that I looked great. Only one college friend disagreed with the rest, and said of course she's happy, look at her smile, she's glowing from within!

Obviously, I did expect reactions to my weight loss, but somehow I’d naively assumed that my friends would be happy for me. I certainly didn’t expect everyone’s parting comments as they hugged me goodbye to be along the lines of “Next time we see you, you should’ve put on some weight”. What the hell??!!

Even though I’ve lost weight, I still cannot be considered thin, nor do I ever want to ..... I rather like my curves :) And its not that I’m looking hollowed out or miserable; hubby & my family are my most brutally honest critics and they’re totally ok with my appearance. Most importantly, I am totally ok with it!!!

Honestly, I don’t expect this phase to last very long, I know that eventually I will gain more weight and I’m totally ok with that too. But still, it feels fantastic that at least for once in my life, I produced some head-turning, eye-popping, jaw-dropping reactions!!!

And I am thrilled!!! I am beyond thrilled, I am ecstatic!!!

In case you were wondering what the fuss is all about, I lost 9 kilos last year!

Wishful Thinking

Yesterday, one of the news channels ran a story on the kind of gizmos the 26/11 terrorists were carrying, and also on how intensively and extensively they were trained. As I saw the story, I was once again amazed by the tremendous wealth such organizations possessed, and even more amazed by the brains and the management behind such acts of terror.

And then I wondered, wished ......

What if the people who masterminded these acts of destruction put their considerable talent and resources to constructive use? If they invested all those millions wasted in weaponry, into schools and colleges, into creating jobs - honest, legal jobs - so that their youth could have a chance at a decent life, instead of being filled with hate and going down paths that lead only to death?

When I think about it this way, of all the good that could've been done with that much money, that much ability, the sense of loss is staggering!!!

How can these people be so blind, so stupid??? And then to keep saying that they're doing all this for their God ........ what an insult it is to God!!!

Here's a thought: instead of executing innocent people, how about lending a helping hand in whatever way possible? Instead of dying for God, how about living for God???

My symbol of peace

'First time' occurrence today: saw the moon, or at least a pale shadow of it, at 1 p. m.

What's so special, you might ask. Well.....I love the moon. I love looking at it. The sight of the moon, whether a faint crescent or a brightly glowing orb, has always put a smile on my face, even in the worst of my moods.

I tend to overthink things - small things, big things, something is always going on in my head, and its easy to get overwhelmed by it all sometimes. But when I see the moon, its like everything.....calms down. I feel at peace, especially if its a brightly glowing full moon.

But the biggest treat, and to me, one of the most glorious sights in all of nature's wonder, is a red moonrise. I've only ever caught glimpses of it, usually while travelling - twisting and turning in my seat to see it better :)

It's one of my deepest desires to have enough time and of course, be in the right place, to watch a red moon rise, uninterrupted. I think I've blogged about this before, but it's worth remembering again.....I feel peaceful.

Keep running

"Sometimes life is like a treadmill:

you keep running, but you get nowhere."

This came to me as I walked passed a gym yesterday and saw someone on a treadmill. At the time, I thought I was having one of my (rare) moments of insight, but now I can't help thinking that I've read this somewhere. Hmmm.

Interesting thought, anyway. Pessimistic, but interesting.

Life is a Cycle

Picking up where I left off:

Life is a cycle…
and I'm learning to ride.
Though I fall
more often than I move ahead,
beyond the burn
of every bruise
lies a lesson
waiting to be learnt:
sometimes in confidence,
sometimes in humility;
sometimes in turning the other cheek,
sometimes in an eye for an eye.

Contradictions? Yes.
For isn't that the answer
to cycling well:
Finding your balance.

© me

What it is we hold on to

I don't think I'm the sort of person who enthusiastically embraces change, or at least not in my personal life. It's not that I avoid change, no. I accept, I face and I move on.....but in my own time and in my own way, after much dwelling on my life as it has been..... savouring the good, learning from the bad.

I love introspection (just realised that!) I do it all the time, but I’ve just realised that I love it as I type these words. Funny how realisations strike sometimes!

I love going over my life..... people I've met & loved & sometimes lost… things I've done & seen & said.....I think I’ve emerged stronger and wiser through all of it.

So, recently when my friend ThoughtWarp mused over “What it is that we hold on to?”, I had so many answers. Moments that are with you all the time, moments that lie in the back of your mind; forgotten moments that are relived and relished when you see an old photo, talk to an old friend, maybe read an old post???

I totally agree that it isn’t possible to “capture” life in its entirety. But I think its worth the effort to hold every precious moment possible, especially when you’re faced with change….and life as you know it will never be the same.