It’s been long since I wrote this about him; and boy, has he changed!
He is now a year and 5 months, almost; a grown(p)up but he refuses to acknowledge that. He still is (and looks like he always will be) a kid.
He devours bananas. He takes—one at a time—from a bunch that’s kept on the fruit tray below the dining table, goes to his snack bar, peels it, eats it and leaves the skin there. The first time I saw this happening, I gaped.
He eats dates, most carefully. He devours it like it’s the last morsel of food he’ll ever get—and then he slowly lowers his head and rolls out his tongue, from which will roll out a spotless date seed.
He is no longer the aviyal-loving, curd-loving, give-me-anything-home-made-and-I-shall-eat sweet little thing. He has preferences. :-/
There are days when he just decides he does not want to eat on his own. So he’ll look at his plate, walk around, look at one of us, walk around…generally letting us know “I’m hungry, but I am not going to eat by myself”. When one of us (mostly mom or me, no one else falls for these ) take it bit by bit and feed him like feeding a little kid, he finishes every morsel of food on his plate
When in one of his moods, he hunts out every single piece of chicken/beef/fish from the rice-meat mix we give him and leaves every grain of rice there!
He does NOT appreciate Pedigree or anything similar for more than a day (or two, max!) at a time.
The ONE thing he cannot stay away from, and drools till there’s a sea around him, is “the cake”! He cannot even control himself from jumping up and biting it right off your hand (without hurting you of course!) It always amazes us, his greed for cakes
He understands every.single.thing we say about/to him. How he responds/obeys, is totally dependent on his mood though
The one command he obeys unconditionally is “Stay”. For every other command, he obeys or ignores based on the presence or absence of food in the commander’s hands
When we ask him where his “toy” is, he scrambles all over the house like mad till he finds it. After that, he expects us to play with him till he tires out. And if we try to ignore him, he catches hold of our legs (one paw across a leg, holding it close to his head so we wont move!) and makes sure we say “OK, let’s play!”
Every time he comes with the toy to play, if we tell him “I have work, Pumbaa. I’ve to cook/eat/clean up. I’ll play with you after that”, he puts the toy down and lies beside it, following our every move. The moment that particular work is done, he comes to us with the toy, almost asking “You’re done now. Can we play?”
We have different names for his toys, and he identifies each one when we ask for a specific one by name! [Yes, I know some kids who can do that ]
He is in love! With pretty little “Twinkle”, a Beagle that stays in our neighbourhood. Well, I’m in love with her too! But this is like serious love! The minute she reaches close to our gate, she starts pulling on her leash and makes sure there’s a stop at our gate. As for Pumbaa, whatever he is doing right then, he ditches it all, and bounds down the stairs. Then there’s much kissing and licking and pawing from two sides of a gate. It’s the cutest sight. Really. And when Twinkle is led away and looks back forlornly, her owners promise to bring her the next day, and she lets out one tiny woof and goes off. Replay happens next day evening
He gets extremely jealous if he sees any of us hugging/kissing someone other than him. Suraj hugs me, he jumps at Suraj. My brother hugs me, he jumps at my brother. My brother hugs my mother, he jumps at my brother. I hug my mother, he jumps at my mother OK…looks like my mom and I are his alone!
There are times when Suraj leashes him to our living room door (for too much mischief), and he lies down there patiently. Till he sees that I’ve sat down beside Suraj on the couch. He can no longer sleep, but he would still lie there, watching us all the time. I would then slowly lean on to Suraj…and Pumbaa would invariably sit up straight and let out pathetic whines. And then Suraj would put his arm around me and hold me close—and Pumbaa would be on his feet, whining, barking, pulling at his leash and being generally pissed off till we both say “OK…we won’t touch”. He then becomes quiet, and sits, but not quite happily, till I go pet him. He then goes off to sleep till I sit near Suraj the next time
He thinks anyone except Amma is allowed to scold him. Amma, however, is his playmate. No matter what he does how, she is NOT supposed to scold. He sulks like mad if she does
He sniffs our backsides all the time I read somewhere that that’s how dogs collect data/information about people. Why he has to collect data on the same people every time they get up from their seats, beats me! There are times we have to stand pressed to the wall and say “No, Pumbaa. No!” and he gives us a forlorn look and backs off. Not for long, though. He has even learnt to do it discreetly. The embarrassment, however, is when he sniffs and then blows his nose loudly and forcefully, shaking his head, like he just inhaled some hydrogen sulphide!
That’s all for now. Waiting for him to finish off his 2-month vacation, to come back and give me fodder for more updates For certain people who “turn to mush seeing his pics”, here are some of the more recent pics on his very own page. Scroll right to down
It’s amazing how you can speak right to my heart… Oh, that’s a song. Not how I meant to start this.
But well, it’s amazing alright. How the best of people always have the best of friends Like how Calvin has Hobbes; Asterix has Obelix; Tintin has Snowy; the F.R.I.E.N.D.S. have each other; and well, Boban has Moli.
I think the best of the lot is Calvin and Hobbes.
And if I be Calvin, I’ve found my Hobbes [Or vice-versa, if my ‘Hobbes’ doesn’t like being a tiger *But for now, you’ll have to make do with being Hobbes. The other option would be to make you Richard Parker, who coincidentally is again a tiger. I think Hobbes is much cuter, nicer and definitely more fun to be with*]
I’m very, very, VERY choosy when it comes to friends—especially the kind that can be ‘Hobbes’. And this one was, well, totally unexpected. Someone I definitely did not see myself ever getting so close to or being such great friends with!
The time I first met Hobbes, I never thought we’d ever strike a chord. Hobbes seemed a very serious, withdrawn person. The kind that is so withdrawn, they barely look up at you when you’re being introduced to them and quickly nod before going back to their work. Uh uh…definitely not the kind who would be friends with someone goofy like me So well, I maintained a distance, and was always just courteous and polite.
I liked Hobbes, but that was about it. In the meantime, I also heard bits of conversation here and there of Hobbes being this serious person; people seemed to be quite scared of Hobbes, and I saw very few people being comfortable and carefree around Hobbes—cementing my impression of Hobbes as someone who could not easily be “friended”. Well, that impression lasted about a week.
Till I first heard Hobbes laugh. It was a loud, clear, right-from-the heart guffaw. Yes, a guffaw. You have to hear it to know what I mean Despite not knowing what the joke was or who it was shared with, I found myself looking up and smiling at Hobbes. Well, to be precise, at the back of Hobbes’ head! And that was when I figured Hobbes out: in an instant. And I liked Hobbes a lot more then
Only someone that’s completely genuine, sincere, adorable and so full of humour can ever laugh like that. Seriously. Laughter—especially the kind that emanated from Hobbes that day, and many, many times after that—is something that will give away a person’s character immediately: it can tell you who is fake, who is real Hobbes was definitely very, very real! I figured I could be myself, goofy and well, just me. The only question was if Hobbes wanted that. Hehe.
You need to know the nuances of laughter to be able to figure people out When I shared that piece of insight once, Hobbes said “I refuse to laugh like that from now on!” Well, the damage was done already, my dear Hobbes once told me “Not everyone retorts to me the way you do. You picked my sense of humour too fast. And I’m not like this to everyone either. I appear serious, proud and very quiet. It’s a facade…kind of a protection that I put around myself.” Well, I’m glad I broke through the facade, and damaged your “aura” (which I still insist on never having noticed ). I now have a friend for life—and an awesome one at that
When I look back now, I still cannot believe Hobbes and I became friends. I would never have believed it if someone had told me then that Hobbes and I would become such friends someday. I would’ve scoffed, I suppose But well, we did become friends…though very, very, very gradually.
With Jaya, my best friend—an alter ego, maybe I should say—it took just about 5 minutes for us to bond and become friends for life. Was I not so choosy then, you ask? Well, is it tough to like yourself in 5 minutes? Anyway, I thought a friend as valuable as that would never come by a second time. I was wrong. I guess 2 really is a good number for me
Hobbes is perhaps one other person who is equally choosy about friends. I guess we have both had enough experiences that hold us back, make us take our time to fully understand another person before going from ‘just friends’ to ‘great friends’. And now, I can say without a moment’s hesitation that Hobbes is a “great” friend to have.
I’ve seen Hobbes in good times and bad—and I have immeasurable respect for the way Hobbes wades through it all.
Hobbes’ sense of humour and quick wit, for one. It can leave you laughing uncontrollably till you end up gasping for air at times…OR leave you so stunned, you wouldn’t know whether to laugh or just gawk. Spontaneity at its best. Certain conclusions and one-liners Hobbes comes up with are…well…bloody hilarious. Something you just do not expect from a person who appears “serious, proud and very quiet”.
There are times when Hobbes gets washed over by a wave of depression…and I pretend not to understand that and keep insisting that Hobbes smile at least “half a smile” *Hobbes, I really do understand when you’re in the dumps, but there is nothing I can do to help you at such times. Apart from telling you to smile! Apart from listening and saying “Hmmm”*
There are times when I am pissed off with something and I go crib to Hobbes—knowing very well that my problems are nothing compared to Hobbes’. But well, me being me, I still crib I could go on and on and on and on, and Hobbes would patiently listen. There would be nothing Hobbes will have to say, to help me, but listen Hobbes will. No questions asked, no judgements made. And all this, while I am just making a mountain out of a miniscule mole hill.
When it comes to a fault, Hobbes does not see if there’s friendship or enmity. If Hobbes has to blast, Hobbes will blast. Despite being such close friends, I’ve been blasted too (which surprised a few people because we were supposed to be ‘friends’; now who blasts friends, huh?). Well, I do. Hobbes does, too. What are friends for, if they can’t correct you when you’re wrong? If there’s credit to be given, Hobbes gives it generously—again, irrespective of friendship or enmity. I think that’s a fabulous quality: to be able to separate life from work
If you are a friend, Hobbes will perhaps die for you. Well, not literally, of course. But if you want Hobbes to do something for you, Hobbes will do it, despite perhaps not liking it at all. It always surprises me, because I would never do that! I’ve kidded about certain things, and Hobbes always agreed to do it, even after admitting it may not be the best thing to do. Maybe one should NOT be so fiercely loyal to friends. You never know how loyal your ‘friend’ is to you. *Note the point, Hobbes *
There are times when Hobbes deserves a kick—for judging people wrongly, for making the wrong ‘friends’, for trusting the wrong people (repeatedly, at that), for helping the ones who do not deserve to be helped…and in all this process, getting hurt. But well, can’t be helped…because Hobbes is Hobbes. I like that *No matter what the other person is or does, you have to be you, Hobbes *.
Yes, now that I think about it, I really like that! People come and go, some even walk over Hobbes, leaving bruises…but the next time they need help, Hobbes does not think twice before helping (and most probably getting hurt again). Though I’ve blasted Hobbes for that many times, I think that’s amazing. *Remain so, just stop expecting any gratitude, whatsoever. And I still will blast you the next time you do that * In Hobbes’ own words, “You fool me once – you are clever; You fool me twice – I am stupid; Hobbes is not stupid; wow, I like that line”. I do too
Of course, Hobbes has faults. Well, who doesn’t (except me!), right? Hobbes frets too much about the past; is too perfect and orderly (yes, that’s a fault!); goes into a shell and refuses to talk about it if something upsets Hobbes; does not appreciate telegrams (!); is not a great fan of Calvin & Hobbes despite being christened Hobbes (!!); thinks an i10 is better than a Punto (bah); aaaaaand walks way too fast Saddest of all, Hobbes does not forgive the mistakes made by self (if they can be called ‘mistakes’, which I personally don’t think is what those are; I think everything is a lesson, a learning, an experience…it makes you one bit stronger, one bit wiser). *You need to get over them, Hobbes. I know it is easier said than done, but you have to. Otherwise, you won’t really get time to make new mistakes What’s life without mistakes, to crib over and learn from?*
There are times Hobbes can be absolutely morbid, absolutely mind-numbing and absolutely shocking. I have fallen off my chair quite often at certain things Hobbes said. I’ve laughed sooooo much that I’ve gone so red in the face, making Hobbes all alarmed that something might happen to me.
I’ve also gaped in awe at certain other things. Like the courage, the perseverance, the patience, the sense, the logic. Most importantly, the pure will to survive and succeed.
The most amazing thing, however, is the way Hobbes can get up or down to any age level Right from 5 to 50 We are capable of being two kids fighting over who is better than the other…and can, in the blink of an eye, be two very mature adults, having a serious discussion on life’s complexities
We have long conversations and longer spells of comfortable silences. I read somewhere “The best kind of friend is one with whom you sit on a bench, saying nothing and when you get up and go, you feel as if you had the best conversation of your life!” Oh, I believe that to the last word now
*Hobbes, I’m immensely grateful to you for the companionship you gave during some real bad times; for listening to all my cribbing like it was the most important thing at that moment; for guiding me on when I needed directions; for the many, many coffee breaks and walks; for the many deals; for some real impressive pep talks; for the umpteen laughs; for all the mentorship; for cheering me up when I was depressed; for making September 2011 a bearable ordeal; for correcting me when I was wrong; for being a true friend all the time. And most importantly, for being the delight that you are…for being you.*
Friendship is a rather strange thing. It is not about going out together and ‘having fun’ all the time; it’s not about having weekend trips together; it is not about lavishing gifts on them; it’s not about sitting around a table together and secretly wondering if you have everything your friend has. Most importantly, it’s NOT about being supportive even when your ‘friend’ is obviously wrong: that’s being the goody-goody, I’m-there-for-you-whatever-you-do Samaritan. Friends don’t let each other tread the wrong path.
Friendship is definitely about being there for each other, through good times and bad. But more importantly, it’s about being a critic and a guide. Goof around, have fun, call each other names, pull each other’s legs, land a surprise, lend a shoulder. But when your friend is wrong, have the courage to point it out, help the person correct the wrong and get back into the right. Be an unconditional friend, but be a valuable one first. That’s when you’re a true friend.
Which is why…
Guess with Hobbes, I just got damn lucky
.
P.S.: Hobbes, here’s wishing you a fantastic new beginning that remains fantastic till the end. What you leave behind, is definitely something that is best left behind
P.S. of P.S.: I’m not to be held responsible if being known as “Hobbes” does further damage to your “aura”
P.S. of P.S. of P.S.: I still insist: there is no aura
…have been on for a long while now and they don’t seem to come to an end! And I don’t like it one bit. One bit!
And unlike others, when I vanish from my blog, nobody cares. Nobody calls up. Mail do not flood my inbox asking me if I’m alright, where I am, why there are no posts… Nothing, none of that. That depresses me. Nobody cares Ah well, Scribby did ask. She cares…and I now love her for that!
I missed a lot many of your posts, but most of them, I read. Some I “like”d, some I just read, smiled and closed off. No favouritism there Just too lazy to “log in to WP to ‘Like’”
It’s been almost 2-and-a-half months since I blogged last. Not because I had nothing to blog about — in fact, a lot happened over the last 2 months and 10 days. It’s just that I’d been wallowing in depression and disorientation, I’ve not been able to make myself log in here and crib write about it, or about anything at all, for that matter.
Celebrated Onam well, minus the pookkalams like last time. Pumbaa had his first ever Onam Sadya — and drooled all over the place while I made him pose…and slurped and gulped it all down in a jiffy!
Pumbaa Nayar Thomas' very first Onam Sadya
I quit IBM. I put in my papers early September, and I went into depression. Well, it was my decision, but I had really liked working there. There was something comforting about that place, the team, the work… Learnt a lot, went through a lot, lost some “friends”. Gained some real awesome ones — the only thing I’ll miss so very terribly for a looooooong time! So well, though it was my decision, I do regret it at times. But things did change drastically recently (which may also have fuelled my decision to leave; certain people and their principles did not agree with me, though quitting a company because of that may sound an immature act. Well, you need to be there to know it, so don’t judge me yet ). And for the record, she also quit on the same day And like I told a manager, I referred her there, and when I left, I took her along
I went on a team trip from office early October, to Pondicherry. Was it awesome!!! We left on a Friday late night and reached back Sunday night — after having a ton of fun. I loooooooooooooooved the beach time. The bunch of us walked into a private beach on a sizzling afternoon, around 2, and stayed on till about close to 6. It was splendid. And the Sunday morning walk…it was bliss. Thanks for that, Binoy I don’t think I’d have gone on that walk alone — and if you hadn’t come up with that idea, it’d have been a loss! Thanks for the trip too. I owe you a whole post for being such a great friend
The beach was all ours! -- at Pondicherry
Pumbaa turned one (Happy Birthday, Pumbaa!) on October 10. We celebrated his birthday, decorated the house, bought him a load of gifts and made him a special “beef biriyani” birthday cake The grandma painstakingly carved out “HAPPY BIRTHDAY” from carrots, because Pumbaa loves carrots He downed it all. It was pure neglect and sacrilege on my part not to have posted at least that. Paaavam Pumbaa I even posted the pics on FB quite late! Here’s a pic. More here.
Happy Birthday, Pumbaaaaaaa
I went for a “Nostalgia Night” at Resource Communications, the one place I had ALWAYS loved working in, and the one place I’d love to work in, any day It was on a Friday night, and I wasn’t sure I’d be able to make it. But I managed to, thanks to Suraj. It was perhaps one of the BEST decisions I’ve taken. It was awesome being back there, meeting all those people, walking around in that awesome place. Thanks for hosting it, Jayadev and Chicku! You people rock!
After a night of Resource...ful memories!
It was my birthday too, recently. Well, no grand gifts this time, but got a FABULOUS cake — of Calvin & Hobbes. It was sooooo superbly done! I wanted a cardigan, so while Suraj took me shopping, the brother, father and mother decked up the terrace, set the cake and balloons and waited for me to come back! It was awesome
The god-awesome Calvin&Hobbes Cake
Hate being at home, in a state of indecision and confusion. Hate taking it on others, so trying not to talk about it much. Would love to enjoy it as a vacation, but there’s work keeping me occupied and worries keeping me in a perpetual state of disturbance.
Love the weather. Bought a cardigan (finally!) and promptly lost it the very next day at the bank — and didn’t realise it until after 4 days. Bah to me, seriously! Ugh!
Want to get back to blogging — like I used to. Wonder what’s stopping me
The only place I want to go to, to live in, EVER is Goa. There! I’ve said it, put it down in writing. Goa, Goa, Goa. Not Kochi, not anywhere else
The parents have decided to relocate back to Trivandrum. We’ll miss them They’ll miss Pumbaa Pumbaa’ll miss them
Vimmuuu relocated to Kochi, and likes it better than Trivandrum. Bah to you, pseudo spidey! I don’t like you anymore
Okay! I’m done for now. I wonder when I’ll be back — both, to being myself, and to my blog. Too much time, is sometime, very little! Sigh!
Dreams…who doesn’t have them? What makes the difference, I suppose, is what we do about them. If we believe in them enough to make it more than just a dream — rather, a dream come true!
I have a Dream, by Rashmi Bansal, is an inspiring, motivating book that tells us how 20 different people decided to take the “good” further, and not for profits or their own growth. The book starts off with the famous speech of Martin Luther King’s: “I have a dream…that one day all of God’s children will be able to join hands and sing… Free at last! Free at last! Thank God Almighty, we are free at last!” If that doesn’t inspire you, I don’t know what else will
In the Author’s Note, Rashmi says “A tree is known by its fruit” and so the author’s note as it defines the book, best as “These are people like you and me, not Mother Teresa. They are using the principles of business, to create a better world” A world where profit does not equal greed where people come together for a greater common cause. A world where “I” does not mean crushing “them”. And this probably is what motivated me most to read the book till its final page.
Rashmi has done a great job at writing a simple, thought-provoking book, with inspiring examples—just a perfectly brilliant read for any aspiring entrepreneur. The simplicity of the entire book is what I liked the most.
Rashmi Bansal is a writer, entrepreneur and youth expert.She is the author of two bestselling books on entrepreneurship. ‘Stay Hungry Stay Foolish’ features the stories of 25 MBAs who left lucrative jobs to follow the rough road of entrepreneurship. The book created a new record in Indian publishing by selling over 300,000 copies and has been translated into 8 languages. Rashmi’s second book, ‘Connect the Dots’ focuses on non-MBA entrepreneurs. It has also been a bestseller, selling over 100,000 copies.More about Rashmi here!
I’m an active community service volunteer, and I love doing it. I’ve always felt I should just team up with a few people and start something off. But there’s always the fear that there will be quite a few obstacles, which we’re not prepared to handle and overcome, given our position and contacts. This book did bring to light the nitty gritties and the challenges other like-minded people faced, and overcame as well. I think this is a great book for every inspired volunteer, to go ahead and do the things they’ve always wanted to do – with more confidence, with more hope and with more belief in themselves and in their actions!
I will not give out much of the synopsis, or what the book has – not ever any excerpts. I loved the one about Akshay Patra the most, though I don’t know why. Among the many Rainmakers, Change Makers, and the Spiritual Capitalists, which one are you? Throughout the book, I kept trying to find out which one I fit into And well, I think I can safely say I’m a Rainmaker—though I’m no “entrepreneur” in the right sense of that word But yes, I’m not interested in “charity”, I rather prefer to just do good Plus, I’m such a “rain” person
Wondering what I’m blabbering about? Get a copy of I have a Dream, and find out whether you’re a rainmaker, change maker or a spiritual capitalist Meanwhile, I wish you all a very meaningful Independence Day, and I hope you all have a dream for the betterment of our country — and get inspired to do something about it too
So I’ve always had this huge complex that I never get Suraj any fantastic birthday gift that gets him all excited and speechless.
In my defense, shirts, walnut muffins and birthday kisses aren’t exactly gifts that fall in the aforementioned category And of course, thanks to my memory, my “complex” surfaces only the eve before his birthday, every year! And that his birthday falls on the almost month-end does not help! We’re both broke by then, and everyone else I know (from whom I could borrow money) would also be broke!
So, when I got Pumbaa and the awesome Canon DSLR on my last birthday, I had my mind set on getting him something fab. Mine is on 2 Nov, and his birthday is on 29 June — ample time to brainstorm, save up and get him that spellbinding gift. Or so I thought.
Pumbaa decided to go on a marathon ‘growing up’ race, and I had to follow him all the time, capturing all those phases on cam Of course, I forgot to plan, save up and everything. When 27 June 2011 dawned dusked-and-went-to-sleep on me, I panicked and made my bro lose sleep on gift ideas. We were to leave to Kerala on 28th night, and I had very little time!
On 28 June, at work I noticed a colleague comparing her SE Xperia with another’s iPhone, and asking people which was the better one.
iPhone! Why not!
And just 3-4 days back, another colleague had told me he wanted to buy an iPhone 4 — that there was some fab offer from Airtel. I almost asked him what iPhone 4 is, whether it was a collection of 4 iPhones Yes, I’m a little tech-savvy that way. But I saved myself some humiliation and did not ask it. So I logged into the Airtel site, checked it out, understood nothing about the fab-ness, saw the iPhone, found it sexy, pictured it in Suraj’s palms and liked the picture!
One call to the bro sent him going to the Airtel store, asking about the plans, the rates, the costs — uh oh, the cost…gulp. Anyway, while he was apparently taking out his credit card, they told him they only have the white one! And have I already told you how much Suraj loves — just LOVES — the colour black? So, he went back home, assuring me “We’ll buy it tomorrow, from Kochi — and actually gift it to him ON his b’day”.
29 June dawned, and we were in hot, humid Kochi. I stole Suraj’s own credit card, took what was there in my account as well, gave them to my brother, and sent him in search of a black iPhone.
So apparently, it’s real tough for me to actually give him a gift on his birthday, even if I decide to, and even have the money! The people at the Airtel store had too many things to stop us from buying it — SIM issues, number migration, plan continuity, rate changes. Bleh!
So then we decided to get it for him once we reach back to Bangalore. Which would be on 2nd July. Whatever!
And then my bro comes up with “How about an iPad instead? It’s so much more cheaper than an iPhone too. Plus he already has a decent enough phone. Think about it.” But again, my bro would reach back only on 5th, and I couldn’t do this alone. So another few days I waited.
I check out iPad2 on the Apple website and fall in love with it! Awesome would be an understatement! Now, the brother has postponed his trip, and would reach only on 14th… No issues, I think. I’ve delayed it so much. It’ll be all the more a surprise for Suraj
And on 10th, Suraj comes home and narrates the story of how a colleague of his bought an iPad2 to work and showed off. He then told me he planned to buy one through an EMI: “I’m done buying extremely costly things with one-time payments — learnt that the hard way after Pumbaa and the Canon “. I panicked big time, called my bro and ordered him to land in Bangalore the very next day. Like my dad sits at the Indian railway and bus stations He got a ticket only for the 13th. I was dying by then, unable to hold on to this secret myself, wanting to tell Suraj.
The home-made Apple iPad
And that’s when I check out the price: it’s as costly as the iPhone! Bah bah baaaah!
My brother reached, we realised I may not really be able to afford it, and decided to gift him this instead
And well, we made elaborate preparations:
I came up with the idea of gifting him an actual “apple”
My bro went to the fruit seller, enquired the cost for a kilo (120 bucks!) and said “please give me one”
I bit off one side, took a marker and actually tried writing “iPad2″ on it
My brother came up with this mini-iPad
Dad and mom acted all cool and innocent as Suraj walked in
I have a feeling even Pumbaa was on our side. There was none of the usual hyperactive welcome Chakkara Pumbaa
As Suraj sat down on the couch expecting a cup of tea, I put on my usual “kalla lakshanam” smile and forced him to ask me what I was up to I then gave him a Dark Fantasy biscuit, and wished him a “belated happy birthday”. My brother followed suit, and so did dad and mom. Pumbaa wanted to too, but we knew the biscuit would not reach Suraj Meanwhile, the expression on Suraj’s face while this drama unfolded was hilarious!
And then I told him I have a gift for him. His expression became even more comical.
I gave him clues.
I told him “Why do you think I withdrew all that money today?” Comic expression 3.
My brother began singing “oPod…o poduuu“. Comic expression 4.
“You liked that thing so much and wanted it.” Comic expression 5.
“You mentioned EMI”. Comic expression changes for a second to shock. And immediately back to something that said “Naa, she can’t have bought me an iPad2″.
I SO REGRET not having video taped him all that while DAMN ! Anyways, I slowly inched towards him, with my hands at my back — and brought out the home-made Apple iPad2.
Even though he kept saying “Naa, can’t be that. Out with it…”, and all that, I could see his face fall when he saw it was just an apple Ok, so maybe that wasn’t all that funny (Funniest thing was that my dad’s face fell even more when he saw Suraj’s disappointment! Fathers-in-law are meant to be not-so-emotionally-attached to their sons-in-law. Bah!)
And then, he downed his cup of tea, ate that entire apple at my request, and went upstairs to complete some urgent work. That’s when Dad apparently called him back to discuss something about the car insurance. And when he walked in for the second time that day, I handed him this:
The 64GB, WiFi + 3G Apple iPad2: the "fantastic gift" that finally got him all speechless, goldfish-like and excited
I still can’t help but laugh when I remember how he reacted. He stood there stunned, not knowing what to say, who to look at, while the 5 of us (dad, mom, my bro, Pumbaa and I) looked at him expectantly. He kept opening and shutting his mouth like a cute goldfish, not knowing what and IF to say, to whom, what to do. He just stood there with the box in his hands for about 1 whole minute.
Chooyaj's iPad2
And THIS, dear people, is when I wanted to go jump into a deep water-less well — for NOT video taping this bit either Waah Double damn!
Of course, his first question had to be “Where did you get all the money from!?” !!! Seriously, Suraj, is that all you could ask? And then he opened it, showed it to everyone, forgot about going upstairs again, forgot about his “urgent work” which he ran up about 5 minutes ago to complete, and went back now and then to being the cute goldfish again
Of course, I questioned him later, to figure out how well he liked the whole drama and why he did the goldfish act for that long. Apparently, he was bloody shocked that I’d bought him a gift he had wanted and talked about just two days ago; he was doubly shocked when he got to know that I had this planned for almost half a month in advance — even before he even thought about the existence of something called an iPad; that no one had ever bought him a gift that he really really wanted and loved so much on sight; that he never thought I was capable of something so organized like this; that I didn’t limit it to the iPhone, for which he had no real love And of course, because he was the centre of attention on a very normal, mundane day, two weeks AFTER his birthday. Trust him to be sooo happy for all these small reasons. While I went and thanked my brother profusely on my birthday for the camera that Suraj actually gifted!
Of course, I guess it was a suicidal act on my part — he now has a TV, a laptop and an iPad2 !! And he doesn’t even want the TV anymore. So, that should tell you where I am. Sigh! I’m in his heart, you people I keep reminding him now and then, that I gave him an iPad2, what a wonderful wife I am, et al. Yea, I’m shameless that way
P.S.: Any doubts you wanna clear about the iPad2, please contact my “Chakkara Chooyaj”
P.S. of P.S.: Btw, the iPad2 is fantastic. Coming from someone like me, you can trust that statement totally!
P.S. of P.S. of P.S.: I’m officially broke and in debt for another year and half at least
…was this penguin race, which I absolutely adored. Well, if I remember right, it was my brother’s. My aunt got it for him, but well, me and the brother being best friends, we only had “our” toys. I remember the quiet evening we spent together, watching the penguins open their little door, come out one after the other, get on the slide and race. The most wonderful part was watching them go “plop, plop, plop” up the stairs. Now, when I think of it, I can’t remember why it was called a penguin “race”, because there was no way they could race each other I’m sure that toy is one main reason I’ve always LOVED penguins!
Two years later, the penguin race was broken to many pieces by a cousin, and I howled away to glory when the aunt chided “stop crying. it’s just a toy.” I still wonder if she realises it was never “just a toy”. It was my many evenings’ activity with my brother; a huge part of my childhood then; a factor that bonded us so well, apart from many others; my first memories of the joy of “sharing”.
Toy Horse
Another favourite toy, was a rubber squeaky toy horse. I remember the many evenings I’ve spent making that lifeless little animal hop all over my room. I have no idea what I was thinking. That was in 1992. And when we shifted from that house and relocated to Guruvayur, I left my toy horse behind, and was depressed about it! In 2002, when we returned to our own house (I was in Std 12 then; yea, go calculate my age I’m 26, silly! ) I spotted a sunbleached, moss-covered, barely-recognisable rubber squeaky toy horse on our sunshade. I still remember how overjoyed I was! I picked it up, cleaned it (it was even mis-shapen after 10 years of heat and rain and cold and dirt and dust and loneliness) and took it to mom to ask her if she recognised it. She did, and she thought I was crazy But I can’t tell you how much of my childhood came rushing back — not just about the times I played with it, but about the time spent living in that house, and a million other joyful memories!
Game of Life
Then there were the two Barbie dolls, which I cared for like they were my kids; then came the G.I. Joes (yea, I was a tomboy for a few years ), the cars, the guns; the the soft toys, the teddy bears, the tweety, the monkey. The bunny, the rabbit, the piggy, the somersaulting pup!
There were board games aplenty: Memory (a visual recall game that’s excellent for stimulating memory power, observation and identification); Scrabbles (of course, the famous vocabulary andword power builder); Monopoly (the one that brings out the businessman/woman in you); Life (about life itself, insurances, loans, family, health and what not).
Building Blocks
Needless to say, each game/toy had a lot of special memories attached to it; a lot of learning; a lot of wisdom; a lot of joy, fun and happiness. I still love toys — I’m not ashamed to say this out in public. Give me a little car, I’ll play with it Give me a penguin race, I’ll be as fascinated as I then was! Give me a box of memory cards, you wont hear from me for a looong while. Give me a soft bunny toy, I’d love to play puppetry with it (yes, I even use different voices for different dialogues! ) Yes, so I LOVE toys, and I love to see kids playing with them.
And now, when I look back on all the toys that we had, my bother and I, I realise that we had very few — i repeat: VERY FEW — toys that were meant for individual play. Most of our toys required two people to play…and if it didn’t, I think we took it up on ourselves to make it work that way, because that’s how we were conditioned with most of our other toys! I don’t know if it was intentional on our parents’ part to give us toys that made us share time, space and joy. I must ask. But whatever that was, we learnt the art of sharing, of building memories together, of learning to call it “ours” than “mine” or “yours”, of happily extending it to other kids, of openheartedly sharing our time, space and toys for the happiness of our cousins and friends…
And today, when I see toys or go to a toystore, I do not long for toys I never had as a kid — but I always long for my childhood to come back: those evenings where we would wait for Amma to return from work while the penguins went up and down the slides and steps…
Childhood is a time to remember…a phase of life when one is carefree, filled with innocence and finds joy in everything — the joy of learning, the joy of spending time with friends, the joy of playing with toys and the joy of having fun! I think toys are an integral part of childhood. They play a major role in moulding a child’s temperament, behaviour, personality and ideals. They instill the concepts of sharing, team playing, being responsible and so on.
Childhood definitely is a time to remember, and look back to longingly. And it is sad and heartbreaking that a huge number of children the world over have nothing but misery, loneliness and almost-nothing to look back to, remember, or long for!
So, when one fine day at work, I got this in a mail, I was sure I wanted to:
Donate a toy: make a difference.
We formed a group within office, collected toys from wherever we could, segregated it by age and gift wrapped it. We now plan to take them around to a few NGOs with the help of Toybank officials, so we can see for ourselves the joy on the kids’ faces when they open up their gift wraps I’m already excited!
We held a 2-week drive at office, and here’s an overview of what we collected: over 200 toys ranging from soft toys and figure toys to board games, building blocks, card games, balls, colouring books, and coloring sets…
I must say, we all had a gala time, sorting toys, ooh-ing and aah-ing over some real superb ones, thanking the many people who cared to give these away, even kidding about planning to take a few home We didn’t, of course: but I say that because some of the toys were REALLY AWESOME, and I sincerely am grateful to the parents who decided to give them away, and to others who decided to BUY NEW ONES since they didn’t have any at home! And all the while, we kept saying how much fun the kids who’d receive them would have, when we ourselves were enjoying so much.
Here are a few pics of what we collected and wrapped
Naimika pushing the complete load of wrapped toys to the storeroom (long story, sigh!)
As we were gift wrapping them all
The toys we segregated before wrapping them up
I urge all of you to take this up as an initiative in your respective organizations and bring a load of joy to some kids whom you’ve never even seen before! Toybank has a presence in Mumbai, Delhi, Bangalore, Pune, UK and Bhutan. Even if you’re in a city where Toybank does NOT have its presence,I’m sure you can identify a few NGOs that would LOVE to take in these toys for the kids who they give a home to!
It’s an experience you’ll cherish for life. I can guarantee that!
Toybank stresses on the need for non-formal education through play for every child. The basic philosophy of this organization is centered on providing toys to children who have no access to them. Toybank will identify NGOs, municipal schools and hospitals for the distribution of the toys. Toybank has a presence in Mumbai, Delhi, Bangalore, Pune, UK and Bhutan.
Toybank’s mission includes: >> Ensuring that children from under privileged backgrounds receive toys through collection and distributions. >> Bridging the gap between children from different backgrounds by creative play/group events/community events. >> Making play space available for children through toy libraries using available infrastructure; to reclaim open public spaces for children. >>Designing and provide toys that are context specific, and to have toys made in local languages as well.
Toybank accepts new and old/used toys as long as they are still in presentable/working conditions. They accept all kinds of toys, except for those that promote racial or violence streaks (like barbie dolls, guns, artillery, etc.). They also accept stationary: crayons, colour pencils and paints, solouring books, story books, notepads/books, pens and pencils, etc.
This post is part of BlogAdda’s Bloggers Social Responsibility (BSR) initiative. I am exercising my BSR by supporting Toybank.
…breathe underwater for the first time and you’ll have one of the best experiences in life I guarantee it!
Last weekend, Suraj, I and a friend enrolled for the Discover Scuba Diving (DSD) programme offered by Planet Scuba India, in association with Professional Association of Diving Instructors (PADI). This was being conducted at the ‘Swimlife Swimming Academy’ swimming pool, within the St Joseph’s School premises on Mallaya Road, Bangalore.
I got to know about it through Nikhil, and even before I got the details, I was all happy and thrilled. I had pictures of me swimming amongst the beautiful sea life, a few coral reefs passing by, a school of fish standing in line, waiting for me to pass… sigh! I could barely contain my excitement. And that’s when I asked him if I’d get to see sharks and dive with the dolphins and all. “For that, you need to go to the Andamans”, was what he said. I immediately stepped back into my dreamworld, where I was in Andamans with Suraj, bro, buddy sis, dad, mom and Pumbaa, of course!
It then struck me that none of us knew swimming. And we had no diving gear — not even swimming trunks, obviously! “We’ll provide all the gear. Just be at the pool by 11″, he assured me.
Crazy about water, despite being non-swimmers, we decided to go check the event out and then decide whether to go in or not. When we reached there at 11, expecting a crowd of wannabe divers, we were surprised to know that we were three amongst the only 6 wannabes who had turned up! Yey! That made things even better. We had the whole pool to ourselves — just the 6 of us Within no time, we were all at ease (and I had already begun planning for an actual deep dive into the sea . Yea, so I have a dreaming disorder. So what!? )
Our instructor — Angshuman — was the coolest ever (and let me also mention that his body is completely covered with colourful tattoos! This maybe what inspired Nikhil to get one done too )
He got us acquainted with the gear: including a mask, snorkel and fins, a buoyancy compensating jacket that also carries the scuba tank, a scuba regulator to breathe from and instrumentation to monitor depth and air supply. We were also given suitably sized wetsuits.
He introduced us to our diving gear, gave us a few basic instructions, and asked us if we dared enough to take the deep dive (at the 6ft end of the pool) or just dip in at the 3 ft end. Except for one dainty little lady who looked like a Barbie that had come to life, we all chose the former. At the count of three, one after the other, we dived in — and was it cool baby!!
He taught us how to sink, go deep, swim, clear the mask if water goes in, using the alternate regulator for air, the basic signs to use in case of emergency or even to just communicate underwater, how to balance weights, how to pose for pics underwater (which I didn’t learn well, and that’s evident in the pics )…
That very feeling that no matter what happens, you wont drown, gave us all a boost of confidence! I’ve never EVER gone anywhere near the 6ft end of a swimming pool: not even with a life ring around me! I did face a few issues initially: there was something wrong about my weight-belt — no matter what he did, once I went underwater, I kept turning over to wards my right, finding it impossible to swim ahead. Finally, he took off my weight-belt and just put one weight each in my two side pockets. I was fine after that, and took to it like I was diving forever I swam completely underwater, from one end to the other, without anyone’s help! Yey!
I can’t explain what a wonderful feeling that was. I really, really can’t! I wish I’ll be a fish in my next birth, if there is one…and while we’re at it, God, I’d like to be a dolphin
Agreed, we didn’t get to see any coral or fishes or aquatic life in general; none of the sharks to frighten the life out of us; no school of fish calmly swimming by, going about their business; no dolphins to hang on to; no blue whales who tossed us up in the air as it squirted water…none of that. But this was definitely a humble starter to life under water — I literally went 6 feet under
Being able to go underwater without having to take a deep breath and hold on to it, being able to actually breathe under water (!!), without water getting into your eyes and making everything blurry and into your nose and getting you all wrecked up, without being on the verge of panic and without actually panicking if you lose your footing…
And of course, like the time we went parasailing in Goa, Suraj, who had to literally be begged to join for the adventure, was the one who perhaps loved it more that I did! He was glad he did it; it was thaaaaat good. (See, this is why you should TRY things out, darling! ) And he’s now determined to learn swimming. Double Yey (yey yey! ) to that!
I’m now dying to learn swimming — and then go for the Open Water course — and head to Andaman to meet some aquatic friends Yes, that’s my next trip plan
Thanks tonnes, Nikhil, for letting me know about the event and helping us experience something we’d never have otherwise done!
And we’re going again tomorrow — with my brother and more friends
…was beautiful, awesome and sexy. Just like she is, I’d say And by “she”, I mean my mother
She went to Paris with my brother, to attend his convocation. Amma’s never been out of India before, so I found it pretty amazing that her very first international trip was straight to Paris!
Fantastique, n’est-ce pas?!
Right from my earliest memories, Amma has only sacrificed — be it a chocolate, be it the last piece of her favourite fish fry, be it a chance to buy that lovely sari, be it a chance to indulge, be it a shopping-for-self treat, be it a good night’s sleep…you name it, and she HAS sacrificed it: either for me, or for my brother, or for dad, or for her mom, or for her siblings or their spouses/kids, or for her in-laws. For her, “me” and “I” was (and still is) after “you”, “them” and “they”.
So, when the brother got into ESTACA, Paris, to get his Masters in Spacecraft Engineering, both he and I knew that his convocation would be either at Paris, or at Southampton (his course was to be two years, the first year conducted at Paris, and the second at Southampton) — and we’d been planning since then, to ensure Amma gets to attend the convocation Of course, we never told her this, since we didn’t want to get her hopes high.
It was only when we needed to make her sign for the Visa applications and stuff that it really sunk in, for her, that she was going to Paris. We were praying that the Visa would be alright and there would be no glitches. I also have a feeling one of us drugged Murphy, for there were absolutely no glitches!
The few days before the trip, she was in a frenzy. “I feel weird, and I don’t know why…” she kept saying. We shopped for her — bought her a new pair of spectacles, new shoes, new dress… We taught her some basic French, though she insisted she’d respond with a “Khem cho” if anyone asked her “Comment allez vous?” We told her to make sure no random frenchman would grab her and kiss her. We told her the ONLY food she’ll get in Paris would be “bouillabaisse” (this grossed her out!). You get the idea, right?
The way her face lit up every time we said “Yay! You’re going to Paris”, was one of the most wonderful things! On May 23, Amma and my brother set off to Paris.
She had an awesome time at Paris.
The convocation was a small, private affair with just the students and their two guests each, on a cruise boat that went cruising along the Siene river from 7 – 11 pm Dressed in traditional Indian attire, she apparently stole the limelight and had quite a few fans
A proud moment
She was made to walk all over the city by my brother, so that she could take in the Parisian streets, houses and shops. She got on to the Paris Metro, and almost got mugged by a french belle and a boyefriend She named the Arc de Triomphe her very own “gate”, like the India Gate . She felt the Louvre was too big, and there was too much walking to do — and all this, to see a lot of nude statues Funniest of all, she felt the Monalisa was too small, for the whole world to kick up such a huge hype about her! ROFLMAO! She loved the Moulin Rouge, but the sex shops on both sides of the street freaked her out. She was glad to see that the women were all fully and well-dressed, and there was no public display of affection that an Indian woman could not handle with dignity. LOL. “The movies are all a load of fakeness “, she said.
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We had planned the trip such that the return would be via Doha, Qatar, where her two sisters and family live. So, two birds at one shot: she went to Paris, and she went to Doha as well.
On early 4 June morning, Amma came home beaming with joy, was welcomed by an exuberant Pumbaa and had many tales to tell. I’d have loved to go o Paris too — but I’m much, much, MUCH MORE HAPPIER knowing Amma could go, see and enjoy a place she never even dreamt of going to.
Yea, so I’ve been reading too many Minty, AB-ey, S-ey and other husband-ey posts (there are definitely many more posts that celebrate love which I’d love to cross link to, esp some of Swaram‘s, but I don’t want to give Google too much work!), I decided it was about time I flaunt introduced mine too
OK. Honestly, it’s not that. I was having this most random talk with a colleague when it struck me how blessed I am to have this awesome guy in my life, for life! And I really wouldn’t mind if you decide to give this one a skip — this is just for him, for him, and for him. I’ve dedicated posts here to Pumbaa, to my brother, to my parents, to my friends. It’s highly unfair that I don’t dedicate one for the guy who dedicated his life to me
So far, he’s always been referred to (if ever; more like always accidentally mentioned) as “the husband”. Hereby, I officially put to end a never-ending agony of a friend, over the use of those two words and the why behind them (there was never any why, really, now that I think of it).
SURAJ. That’s the name (no, not sooraj, but suraj; he’s quite finicky about the spelling ).
He says, he’s Suraj, the sun (like he’s some character out of Amar Chitra Katha )
I think he’s more like the sunLIGHT in my life.
Ahem, guess it’s more or less the same in my parent’s life too, I think I can safely say! If there’s one SINGLE thing they’re really happy about (in spite of it being a completely sole decision of mine), it’s my choice of my ‘life partner’ They love him to bits!
To the brother, he’s the “sundaraa, sumukhaa, ente aliyaa” And to his girlfriend and my soon-to-be chettathi, he’s the “buddy-bro”.
To Pumbaa, well, he’s just “woof” but woofed in a really sweet way, at that.
And when I have those sudden bursts of love (which is like every now and then), he’s mostly “Chooyaj”. Well, in my defense, it sounds more baby-like and cuddleable which is how generally all things sound when there’s a sudden burst of love
Well, what can I say about him, really? Whatever I say, you’ll just have to take at face value—because I’m the ONLY one who he’ll love like this, with whom he’d always and forever be like this. Muhahahah and well, I’m being extremely honest here, so just believe it. There are times when he’s leaning over the sofa, propped comfortable over two cushions, face completely turned towards the TV—and yet says something completely heartfelt and soooper nice to me. And I just gawk at him, secretly grinning and congratulating myself for such a prize catch
Considering all the multiple crushes I used to have and un-have while in grad college and post-grad college again, I never considered myself the type who would be able to fall in love with a guy and just remain fallen for ever! I swear. I’ve had my share of flirting; affairs—one-way, two-way, even no way (!!!); break-ups; heart-breaks, crushes, more heart-breaks… Ok, I must rephrase this bit. You all think I’m a bad, baaad girl no? Well, not really. I’m super nice, come to think of it.
Anyways, I was always sure I’d never ever have an arranged marriage. I only believed in a love marriage. And I did NOT believe in love at first sight. When I saw Suraj for the first time, funnily enough, it was actually my BFF who pointed him out and said “Psssttt…check out that guy. Now, he looks goooood, doesn’t he?!” And I looked, and just “Hmmm”ed at first. What happened after that first “Hmmm” and till that “I do…” about 2.5 years back, is for another post altogether! And, I really don’t want to bore you with all that.
So, coming back to “Well, what can I say about him, really?”.
A close friend (the same one whose agony about “the husband” is now over) once messaged me what she thought about Suraj, saying “The only thing he doesn’t do, is set you on a pedestal and worship you”! Come to think of it, that’s so true. *glowing* Well, she did say a few other things which made his day About him being the most simple, sensitive, nicest person she’s known, or something. Of course, I remember verbatim only that line which had me in it
He’s, I must say, made for me Sometimes I wonder how someone as sane as him can live with someone as insane as me! How someone who’s as calm and level headed as him can tolerate someone as unruly and hot-headed as me. How someone as composed as him can bear with someone as unpredictable as me. How someone with as photographic a memory as his can understand and accept someone could have a memory borrowed from a goldfish, as me! How someone as romantic as him can live, in love, with someone as unromantic as me. For ALL the things I’d get irritated at if it comes from him, he patiently deals with them all when they come from me!
He thinks I say it just because I’m so madly in love with him — but I swear, he’s got magic in him And I felt it most a few days back. I’d had an excruciatingly stressful, irritating day at work. He came to pick me up, and I got into the car all pissed off and tired of life. I was extremely hungry too, by the way That can make me extra cranky. We reached home, and I made a beeline to the kitchen and gobbled up some food. And then I got more cranky ‘coz I had a tummy ache, a headache, and I was extremely tired and pissed. All it took was a warm hug, and in his real soothing voice, “What happened, darling? Come here to me.” That was it. I was already feeling great My tummy ache vanished, there was no signs of the headache, and though I was sleepy, I really wasn’t tired anymore. I call that his “healing touch”. Especially when I get a splitting headache, he keeps his palm across my forehead, and it’s gone in a jiffy! Woohoo!
I know it for a fact that he truly and deeply loves me. It’s no show or act — because they all have a lifespan. Moreover, I can see it in his eyes. During the initial days of courtship, while he used to call me sweet nothings, I used to feel all weird and wondered how someone can call such names so naturally (I told ya, I’m no romantic! — remember the handwritten love letter he gave me? I read it and left it by the computer table, where it lay in near-abandon for 4 days, till he mentioned I could give it a little more value ). I wondered how much one should love, to be able to do that (because, I never could!). NOW, I know how much — because all of those names, I now call Pumbaa. So, now when he calls me those, I feel extra special, sooooper happy and on top of the world Now, I know your love has to be extremely boundless and pure, to be able to be like that. And that is one thing I am so not proud of: I really think I still don’t love him half as much as he does me
If I ever want anything, all I need is to say it, and it’ll be done! In fact, he just doesn’t care what he has to sacrifice for my sake (so, these days I’m quite careful about making random “I wish…” comments ) No questions asked. He doesn’t care if I already have the exact same thing, and it’s lying unused in some corner. He doesn’t care if an alternative is available at 1/10th the cost; he doesn’t care if I can actually do without it. If his wife wants something, he HAS to get it for her. I guess he took those wedding vows damn seriously! While, if it’s he who wants something, I always have a million questions. Bah, I’m horrid, am I not!?
He completely understands my love for my parents and brother, and accepts it. I think, to a large extends, he partakes in it too. Which is why they all think he’s fabulous, too. Before they relocated to Blore, almost ever day I’d have one of my “Amme kaananam…” (I want to see my mommmmm) sessions. And he’d hold me close, and either immediately dial up her number, or if it’s too late to call, just make me feel better and pull me up from the lows.
He spoils me rotten. Before our wedding, he once called my mom and told her “Amma, I just called to demand some dowry.” Needless to say, she was shocked, and a little furious, till he continued with “I want 50 kisses from your daughter everyday. Without fail. Oh, apart from that, I just need your daughter. Nothing else. Sounds OK?” She blushed then. She still sports one of those “awwww” smiles whenever she remembers this conversation! And well, needless to say, again. I’m the one who’s getting all that dowry now With additional hugs for every kiss If we were ever to separate, by the time I’m done handing all of my pending kisses (per the deal), we’d continue being together for at least that many years we’d already been together. Now, that sounds great no?
And the pure love. The way he takes one look at my face and reads my mood, makes me sit on his lap and cuddle me like a baby. The way his face lights up when I walk into our living room, after spending a couple of hours downstairs talking to mom — and he says “Hey, you’re back!” Or the way he always picks up the call with an “Entha chakkare” (yea darling?) instead of a normal “hello”. The way he is his usual self, and makes most people in my extended family later tell me “He’s a gem” (yay!). The way he looks at me in whatever state I’m in (dressed well, decked up well, or looking at my shabbiest worst) and says “you’re looking great”. The way he still tells me he loves me, right after I’ve made a Mount Everest out of a mole bump
He treats me like a baby when I fall ill, or feel unwell. I make a big fuss when I fall sick. I whine, I walk around like I’m going to die the next instant, I am irritable and cranky. He survives through it all calmly, all the while comforting me. In the middle of the night, if a blocked nose or a cough keeps me from sleeping blissfully, I whine like a kiddo — and he actually wakes up to comfort me, forsaking his sleep, and not minding one bit that I disturbed his (preciously few hours of) sleep. If it were I, I’d be ready to kill anyone who disturbs my beauty sleep. Anyone!
There isn’t a single “working” day that he leave without kissing me bye-bye. All he gets in return is a smile, a “bye” and the sight of the quilt quickly going over my head. The first thing I see every day is a well-dressed, smart-looking husband; while he sees a groggy, disheveled wife! Sigh. Apparently, the smile I flash when I open my eyes to see him, is awesome [For the record, he has a normal 9-6 job, while I have an abnormal 2-11 job; we both sleep at the same time, but he has to wake up at least by 7 every morn, while I sleep till 10 Well, I have to sleep, don't I??
When I am tired after doing some household chore, I'm always amazed at how he automatically gives me a massage, taking it for granted that I'd want one -- even without me asking for one. I used to have a terrible back pain problem sometime back (which isn't half as bad these days), and even now, I think it's a voluntary action for him -- to think I'd have a back pain after exerting myself! These are tiny bits of thoughtfulness which means a LOT. Needless to say (and you get the drift no, dont' you?), I seldom have such thoughtfulness
He calls me at least 5-6 times everyday, from office, just to hear my voice. And I, most irresponsible with my mobile phone, will either not pick up the call (for I'd have no clue where it is, or that it is ringing), or if I do (always in the middle of some busy work), either sound too hurried, or busy or curt. And as I write this, I realise, I NEVER call him up just for the heck of it, unless there's some doubt I have or something I want to remind him about. Bah. I think I should stop writing this right now. I'm liking myself lesser and lesser -- something I thought was impossible!!
Yes, so basically, I have a clear picture of what a wonderful dad he'd be someday (and what a moroness of a mom I'd be too). And well, to all others, he's a caring, soft-spoken, mature individual. Unlike me
Well, I wouldn't say I'm completely useless I've bought a lot of humour and insight into his life (haven't I, Chooyaj??). I've made him understand the need to be a total clown at times; take life less seriously, but make people take him more seriously; subtract all the "formality" with people and add more fun and laughs; be able to assert himself when required, whoever it be to; and most importantly, given him a life which, in his very own words, has been "fruitful and precious" since I came into it So YAY to that as well
Of course, he has his flaws: he watches too much TV , hates reading, doesn't understand the joys of getting drenched in rains, thinks i'm crazy for not carrying my mobile all the time, thinks there is a time and place for stupid jokes, loves Bangalore, loves watching movies, doens't understand why I can't sleep unless he does, finishes his meals too fast, watches TV even while he's designing something (which pisses the life out of me, grrr), absently nods and "mmmm"s when I'm talking to him, asks me for opinions then either doesn't respond, doesn't follow or again, just nods absently; loves NOT turning off the comp (!!!)...
But in spite of allllllll these, he's still the adorable one and his flaws, when compared to mine, are way negligible
Suraj, I just want you to know... I love the way you love me. And I love being able to love you. I'm sure I'm able to do it only because it's YOU. Sometime I do wonder if I'd have been happier if I'd married a richer guy, or a guy who would read all the books I love, or a guy who would hate TV as much as I do, or a guy who would love to walk in the rains with me, or a guy who would live life with as much abandon as I do -- and I always end up with the same conclusion: No, I wouldn't be happier, nor would I be half this happy. Because, irrespective of what that guy does, I'd miss this pure, unadulterated love I get from you!
And I'm so glad you asked me those crazy questions one day long back, and gave me a chance to blurt out all those shocking responses If it weren't for your curiosity, we may not have been together now.
I just cannot thank you enough for agreeing to be mine Here...I dedicate this to you. I think it shows and voices a lot of our love and how we've had it so far
The officer at the Driving License counter asked the lady “What is your occupation?” The woman seeking renewal of her license seemed to be puzzled. So the officer said “Ma’am, are you employed, have your own business or…….. The woman replied “Oh, yes!! I have a full time occupation. I am a mother.”
Officer: “We don’t have ‘mother’ as an option for occupation. I will write it down as ‘Housewife’. That takes care of all questions.”
This had happened long ago, and was forgotten. Years later when I went to get my license, the Public Relations Officer was a somewhat pompous woman. “Your occupation?” she asked in a rather authoritative tone.
I just had an inspiration and replied “I am a researcher in the field of Child Development, Nutrition and Inter-personal Relationships.” The lady officer stared at me in amazement. I calmly repeated my statement and she wrote it down verbatim. Then, unable to conceal her curiosity, she politely asked “What exactly do you do in your profession, Ma’am?”
I was feeling good about having described my occupation so calmly and confidently. So I replied “My research projects have been going on for a number of years (mothers never retire!!). My research is conducted in the laboratory as well as in the field. I have two bosses. (One is God and the other is my entire family). I have received two honours in this field (a son and a daughter). My topic is considered to be the most difficult part of sociology (all moms will agree!!). I have to work more than 14 hours every day. Sometimes even 24 hours are not enough and the challenges are tougher than many other professions. My compensation is in terms of mental satisfaction rather than money.”
I could see that the officer was thoroughly impressed. After completing the licensing formalities, she came to the door to see me off. This new viewpoint about my occupation made me feel much better on my way back home. I was welcomed by my 5 year old research assistant at the door. My new project (my 6 month old baby) was energetically practicing her ‘music’.
I had earned a small victory over the Governmental red tape today. I was no longer ‘merely a mother’, instead I was now a highly placed functionary in a service vital for mankind – Motherhood!!
‘Mother’ – Isn’t it a great title?
P.S.: Thanks for this forward, UmaS I felt this was too fabulous to not share! Please, share this as much as you can, as widely as you can. No one will book you for plagiarism
And to the “mother” who said all this: you are fabulous!
but he refuses to acknowledge that. He still is (and looks like he always will be) a kid. 
) take it bit by bit and feed him like feeding a little kid, he finishes every morsel of food on his plate 
I even posted the pics on FB quite late! Here’s a pic. More 
) And he’s now determined to learn swimming. Double Yey (yey yey! 
unpredictable. absent-minded. humourous. confused. practical. child-like. chatter-box. crazy about rain. easy-going. mad about labradors. obstinate. lazy. travel freak. logical. beach lover. introvert. happy-go-lucky. boundlessly energetic. adventurous. optimistic. fiercely independent. pseudo-scorpio. Long story short: confused and unpredictable; a girl—all the time!
Alphabets of response :)