Thursday, August 20, 2015

It's hard to say goodbye!

              For the past few weeks, I've woken up with a strange feeling in the pit of my stomach. The 'before exam' feeling. A myriad of emotions consuming me the entire day, surprising me. I can detect feelings of dread, anxiety, selfishness, happiness, wistfulness, pride and hopefulness. 

               I remember a moment from 18 yrs ago, pacing in the labour room of the hospital, trying to be brave. Trying not to curse all the ones who had raved about babies and conveniently forgotten to mention how excruciating the pain would be. It is a pain that knocks the socks off you and makes you want to punch everyone around you. There's a nurse somewhere who's lived to tell the tale. At one point after a painful spasm, I got up, and told my mom "I can't do this, let's go home". Mom's  fiercest "Have you gone mad?" look and the next spasm sent me crawling back on that bed. It was a long moment of weakness and after 4 hours I managed to deliver a scrawny looking baby boy. That, then, was the bravest thing I had done. Or so I thought. 5 years later I did a repeat performance and had my second son. Proved one thing to me that TIME played its part in dulling the intensity of the "I'm going to kill someone if this doesn't stop" kind of pain and makes you focus more on the "Oooh, look he smiled, he walked, he burped" moments. 

             I had many similar moments of breaking down, recently. Of giving up midway between packing stuff for my 18yrold, who would be leaving home to study in another country. His bags did get packed eventually. And he did leave. And I did smile through it all.

Everyone asks me "So how does it feel, How are you? "

" I miss him", I answer truthfully. 

They console me in various ways:

"At least you have another kid to distract you", they say

"With time, it will pass" they say

"Be happy and proud, he will do well"  they say

"At least you had him this long, mine left at 16", they say

           I am grateful, I'm really proud of him and my mind knows it.  My mind rationalizes with its predictable logic : "It's a good learning experience, he's worked hard for it, You knew this day would arrive eventually. Be happy. It's just a temporary good bye, and he will be home during vacation time." 

That's what everyone says, don't they? 

But how do I convince my heart about it? 
How do i make it understand that things will no longer be the same? 
That 18 years of being together cannot be taken care of with a goodbye and a hug. 
That I will spend the next 4 years and possibly more with a prayer on my lips, of sending positive vibes into the universe, of thinking nonstop: "Please be nice to him, please let him make sweet friends, please let him not fall sick, please this.. please that". 
That it will take time for me to see his empty room and not feel the wistfulness. 
Of seeing his favorite food and not think of him. 
Of cooking meals for three instead of four.
Of having silly conversations
Of troubling him just because I can

          Seeing my 18 yrold off to college, on his way to an independant responsible adulthood, is a 'hard to describe' feeling. You feel immense joy, you feel pain, you want to hold onto the past a bit longer yet you want your boy to blaze ahead. You feel guilty of the time you should have enjoyed him more, than worrying about whether he fitted a particular mould or not. You've started to enjoy his company again and are loathe to let him go, but you don't want to be the one holding him back.

Once upon a time, all I needed, were my arms to keep him safe, NOW, all I can hope for, is the shelter of an unseen hand over him. 

Does it hurt? It does.  Would I have it any other way? Probably not. 

There are so many things that i have taken for granted. There are so many things that I will have to say my goodbye to. And that takes time.

His "whats for lunch today, Amma, hope it's something good?".
His music. 
His dry humor. 
His quiet ways. 
His infuriating habit of leaving his wardrobe doors open because he's conserving his energy! 
His cheekiness. 
His absent minded antics. 
His shrug and his monosyllabic ways. 
His rolling eyes at some 'lame' joke I crack
Those little moments of a day which mean so much to me.
The new stuff he tells me about
The lovely change in the relationship between us

How do i say goodbye to all this and so much more? 

Everyone has their way of handling themselves till their heart and mind speak the same language. My sister never entered her son's room for weeks after he left home for college. Another would spend hours looking at pictures. My younger son is digging through his brother's desk and unearthing treasures. As for me, I write.

And as I listen to my boy's voice over the phone, hearing him talk about his dorm and college, I try to bring a smile into my voice, while a hundred things run through my mind, "He sounds so tired. Did he eat? Has he made a friend? Will he put a sheet on his bed (what?)? ".  Love is such a strange emotion. It makes you laugh and say all the right things, while your heart is breaking inside. 

Motherhood has trained me well. It also brings into perspective my parents' love. Of how hard it must have been for them to let each of us go. Letting my son go is no doubt the bravest thing I have done so far.

Time is magical. Just as it had dulled the pain of labour, so has it filtered my memories of his journey from a baby to adulthood. It has taken away the angst ridden days, and left me with so many happy moments. In a little while I will get used to a new way of living, using modern means of communication to interact with him. It won't be the same but it will be better than nothing. And soon I will be one of those who will console another parent with soothing words of advice.

And in 5 years, when the next one sets out,  saying goodbye will pain just as much. 

And life, from now on, will be a series of 'welcomes' and 'goodbyes', of visits with deadlines.

But then time helps you adjust. And I'm going to take all the time I need.

Because Time is my new best friend.

Monday, August 20, 2012

The pursuit of perfection.

As long as I can remember, there has been this need for perfection.

Sometimes this is a need in me, and at other times, more often than I like, it is how others would like me to be.

Perfection in an image, in perception, in love.

Perfect mothers, perfect friends, children, spouses .

Perfection even in expectations.

That's when things begin to distort themselves.

And things fail, one after the other.

Perhaps that's when I need to look at the gorgeous butterfly and remember how that came out to be.

And see the miracles that is found in everyday life.

And if i don't find that butterfly, maybe I should just close my eyes and take a deep breath. Mist that glass and clear the distorted images away.

and smile.

Because everything can be perfect if you only let it be.

Wondering what brought that on? I'm clueless too.  I found this in my drafts, ignored and neglected. Since my unfinished posts may soon outnumber the published ones, so here goes that finger on the 'publish' button :)


Wednesday, May 16, 2012

Cards and more

This post is a long overdue one.

The 9yrold loves to create stuff. Sometimes he does it by himself in a creative spurt, and sometimes it is brought on by me.

In March, during their spring break, he had this brainwave to sell handmade cards. I sat down with him, and we drew, cut and pasted. I wanted to show him how we could up-cycle certain things available at home and create something useful out of it.

We made the card envelopes from the paper shopping bags  of most branded products. The cards were also made with existing bits and pieces of paper. Of course it was done in many sittings because his attention span and my back decided to play truant.

Once it was done, we had to decide on pricing. I was amused to hear him confidently declare to a potential customer, that his Minimum Retail Price was Rs. 15/-. He gave discounts to those who bought two or more and a special discount to his closest friend nearer home.

Thankfully the people who did buy were encouraging, and for quite some time, my son could be seen dreaming aloud about starting his own card business! He also has a backup plan. If the card business fails, he plans to sell my crocheted stuff.:))

Frolicking Fish
Frolicking Fish (his creation)

The bag envelope

A paper present

Flowers and colors

I love this very original creation :))

A card he made for me, 

Which ones did you like best? Do tell my budding childpreneur :)

Tuesday, April 10, 2012

a dash of color!

When we lived in singapore, I used to walk, as much as I could. From where I came from, paved footpaths and green grass is a rarity, so Singapore was a walker's paradise.

You suddenly chance upon a brightly painted building.

It instantly brightens up your mood.

These pictures brought back some fond memories.

Change of the right 'kind'

It was nearing the end of the academic year. My 9yrold son and his classmates were given work to do at home. They were asked to write little notes about each classmate on pieces of paper and bring it to class the next day. It was amusing and enlightening to see the 9yrold tackle this with great enthusiasm and dedication. Abhay was funny and nice while Saakshi ran well. Pranav was excellent in sports and Arjun was clever. He got stuck when he came to one particular classmate, U.

“I cannot write anything nice about him, Amma, In fact no one’s going to write anything good about him. He’s very very naughty.”

This boy U had been the subject of many a dinnertime discussion. How U refuses to listen to the teacher and how he troubles the children!

“Surely you can think of something” I prompted.

“No,no, he’s the same boy I’ve been complaining about. He troubles everyone, never listens, not even to ma’am. Ma’am has refused to talk to him so many times, but he just doesn’t change.”

“You will be very excited to see what everyone’s written about you tomorrow, I wonder how he will feel” I said, not wanting to push him, but feeling a little sad about U.

The next 15 minutes passed with him sighing loudly because he just didn't know what to write. Finally he wrote, “ I think you can really run fast if you want. And I know everyone would like you more if you really want them to’. 

The next day, my son came home with 31 colorful scraps of paper. His classmates had called him helpful, sweet, funny and kind. A few raved about his soccer moves. There were a few too who wanted him to speak softer (my ears thank you, lil ones).

I loved this exercise that the kids had to do. It was not indicated what they could write, but almost everyone found it within themselves to think up a nice comment about the other. And if you looked hard enough, even the meanest person does have something worth liking. He may just not know it yet.

As if to drive the point in deeper, that evening, as I strolled near the play area, I overheard this conversation between two children. “ I wish people were more kind”.

And this is precisely what I think we need more of: Tolerance, kindness, graciousness, a spirit of Ubuntu! 

What is Ubuntu, you ask? It is a philosophy of African tribes that can be summed up, as "I am what I am because of who we all are." In simple words, it means that we cannot function as isolated humans individually and that we need to be interconnected.

And I cannot help feeling that displays of kindness, are getting increasingly hard to come across. Even the playground is a mini battlefield, with a lot of ego play and rage simmering. 

If I were to change something, I would alter the mental makeup of people. A little more kindness, a little more of compassion, cut back on the bitterness and rage and add generously the spirit of oneness.

A good starting point would be to do a kind gesture everyday, it could be helping a mother carry her groceries to her doorstep, or teaching a friend soccer or helping the maid with her kid’s admission! 

Go on now, pick up that phone and speak to a person you've been meaning to, and make them happy.  

Now that is very very doable, don’t you think? It's definitely a time for change. 

This can well be my submission for the 'time to change" indiblogger contest.

Sunday, February 12, 2012


There was a tough month last year, where I was the designated nurse to everyone's pain, ranging from a near slip disc to a bad bout of viral.

Of course, since the Murphy guy was stalking me, I had to fall sick too, with a fever and the cold. Right in the middle of the14yr-old's final exams.

*PJ alert
Q: Why does the school schedule the final exams right before the christmas holidays?
A: That's to make sure we have truly truly deserved the holidays!

So I felt terrible, the cold had made me sound unintelligible and my vocal skills were being truly tested by the boys.

In frustration, I screamed (if you call that guttural noise which emanated from me a scream)

"I'm fed up. That's It! I'm going to the Himalayas"

"What did you say?" two voices screamed back in unision...

I hollered out again" You guys are troubling me so much, that i want to go to the himalayas"

The big boy, all of 14, came out from his study area and said in his trademark deadpan style "What? you are going to the Mallyas, YUCK, you should have better taste, amma!"


"Go back and put your nose back in your history books" I remember saying...hiding a smile.

It strikes me again, as it has been for the past few months, that this equation between us has changed tremendously. There is this ease between us, and it is a lovely change from the disciplining mode.Ofcourse he's 4inches taller than my 5.6 self and that by itself has tilted the balance in his favor. See, it makes it so difficult to see eye to eye with someone who is taller than you :/

There are times where we laugh at each other, and there are days when we are having a screaming match.

There are many times I have to remind myself that I am the parent here, there are days when it gets frustrating, especially when you feel like you are the only one talking, there are days when it gets scary, because you don't know whether what you are doing is the right thing or not, but most days it's pretty good.

And I wish to myself that even though some days seem too tough and disheartening to get by, the good moments far outnumber the sad ones and that we come out of it all, stronger and wiser from all that life doles out, in the name of teenage angst and parenting fundas.

Of course the wisest perspective sometimes comes from your very own miniature creations.

The nine yr. old recently consoled me with this gyan "Its okay amma, if I take AGES to do this, it is all part of the learning process!" *never mind that we were talking about homework here!

Once I picked up my jaw from the floor, I couldn't but nod vigorously in agreement.

Saturday, January 14, 2012

Ting-Tong, Just for me!

My doorbell is the most used object in my house. Especially in the evening, when my 9yrold is at home. He opens the door, waltzes into the neighboring house to pat their dog, and then 5minutes later he's at my door ringing the doorbell, again, to be let in. And the whole thing repeats itself 15 minutes later!

I need to get skates, answering the doorbell would be such a rolling affair!

There are many times it rings in his absence and I find out that the person actually meant to ring the neighbor's doorbell. I H.A.T.E that.

The other day, I was quite busy and had done the doorbell answering routine a bit too often to my liking. A friend was over and we had just settled down to some filter kaapi, when ting tong, the doorbell beckoned me. 

And I fling open the door, and the mail guy meekly hands me this! OH!LOOK it has my name on it!!


and It's just for me!

The only cards I get are the ones from my kids, and erm...theonein365daysfromG, so to say I was thrilled was an understatement. It was not totally a surprise, because i knew she was going to send me something, because she had asked for my mailing address a few days back. But to actually receive this beautiful quilled artwork and read the lovely message inside, truly made my day. 

Knowing that she has made out time to send out handmade cards, in the midst of a very hectic routine makes this even more special, and is quite humbling too.

In my excitement, I forgot to mention who the she is! Of course if you've read '34 Bubblegums and Candies' and her latest bestseller 'Life is what you make it", then you shouldn't be wondering at all. And if you haven't read them yet, then you should be reading them right now!

Thank you tons, Preeti, for the treasured message, for the warmth of the gesture and for the friendship it signifies. 

I should be writing more, but them words, they have a way of deserting me when I need them the most.