P V Sindhu????

Was busy and couldnt do this post sooner. But I wanted it to make to the August post so doing this in a last minute rush.

Lets talk about this pic that was shared on FB. Firstly, a big salute to all those women who maintain a balance between culture and modernity. But there's no harm if a lady cant manage to do it. I never saw anyone raising a brow when a man cant drape a dhoti or manage traditional attire. Seriously! most of them prefer to wear jeans to the temples. I dont have a problem with that and neither do i have a problem when a woman doesnt wear a saree or traditional attire to the temple.

Talking about feminism, its not about defying culture but it is about giving women the freedom to make their choices and hold on to their decisions. Feminism also doesn't mean that women and men can do similar tasks with same dexterity because they were born to be different. It is for us to respect each others differences and shortcomings. No. It doesnt qualify women for reservation. There is a huge list of Dos and Dont's for women. In the name of tradition, the women face lots of restrictions. Restrictions, that most of the times come in the way of their dreams, goals, aims and aspirations. Culture and traditions are man made and keep changing with time. The society has curtailed the Sati system. It has accepted that a woman need not burn herself in her husband's pyre. Then how difficult is it to accept that a woman needs to live the life she dreams of? why don't we accept that she need not kill her dreams and ambitions for the unknown prince charming or the almost extinct knight in the shining armor?

The pic of P V Sindhu holding a Bonam and going to temple in traditional attire is being shared on FB trying to tell every other woman to learn something from her. How about sharing Sachin Tendulkar going on an exotic vacation with his family? Comparision doesnt go well with men right? So does it with women as well. Next we would say Sakshi Malik can lift twice her body weight, every other woman should also try and do it. No Sir! it doesnt work that way.

I Wouldn't mind wearing a pallu over my head or making hell lot of sacrifices  for everyone around me until i lose my identity if it was not for my son. I feel that he deserves to know the real me. I want to make the path of the woman of his life less difficult by not setting wrong or impractical expectations for her.

I know i Know these days my blogs are not very interesting atleast to most of my friends. But i promise  i will post a story next. Thanks for hanging on

Finally, something important

This article is in the interest of the general public and most if it is based on the experiences I get to know from those around me. I don’t intend to point my fingers at anyone in general, for I know everyone is right with their own perspective. 

Having done with the crude disclaimer, here follows the article. It’s the most discussed topic these days and is more popular than the Trump vs Hillary chats. Its strange in the most weirdest way that when we are at the peaks of the feminist revolution, the actual cause of misery in a woman’s life is another woman. And that woman comes in the form of an in law, a Mother in Law (MIL) or a Daughter in Law (DIL). We can’t generalize and say that all MILs are cruel and bossy or say that all DILs are at fault as we find that few DILs we know are actually as good and sweet as nectar, and few MILs are too soft spoken and forgiving in nature. On keen observation, we may also notice that the sweet DILs are actually our daughters or sisters and the forgiving MILs are either our mothers or aunts. As I said, everyone is good as an individual but things get worse when they try to influence or rule over others lives. Sort of holding the reigns of others lives. There is always this generation gap and is actually difficult for a 50 or 60 year old to think on terms with a 30 year old lady and vice versa. And this is not a reason enough to hate each other.

When I get to meet my female friends, their common complaint is that it’s remarkably tough to juggle between office and home. But neither of them would stop working and sit at home because they prefer office over home where they are under the constant vigil of their MILs. Sometimes, I see women coming to office despite their illness and the reason behind it makes me sad. Back home, they are expected to toil constantly and have no hopes of finding any rest. And needless to say, they prefer office over home. 

Yet few cases I see the couple are often picking fights under the influence of their relatives. The woman complains her husband being influenced by his mom and the man complains his wife being influence by her mom. Its very easy to fall prey to such influences. I would request everyone to just sharpen up all your 5 senses, if possible even common sense and 6^th sense and use them first to drive some sense into your brains. This is meant for both women and men. Have your own individuality and try to draw conclusions from what you hear and see rather than believing every illogical and unsensical thoughts of your bad influential relatives. And don’t compare your spouse with your mom or dad. Remember that every individual is unique. 

I also find few MILs and DILs getting on very well and feel so happy and am often tempted to put a kaala tika on them. Yes, there are every different possible combinations of people living around us, it is upto us to work on our relations and do what suits the best for us but not at the cost of others interests. Learn to compromise before you expect others to compromise for you. Learn to appreciate others when you expect others to appreciate you. Life is too precious and rare a gift to lose for something so unworthy. Remember, there are counselors out there ready to help in such matters. 

I don’t want to go on with this melodramatic tone. As an under note I would like to add, there is a woman whom I admire and adore a lot. Someone, who is constantly burning like the wick of a candle trying to brighten up the lives of those around her, never giving up. If you think, you know that lady, please help her and share her burden, for you know that she is too precious to lose. PLEASE.

What I learnt from him

Any guesses who is the "HIM"  from the title? No. Not my husband.
Him = My Son.

I had always looked forward for guidance and advises from elders, books, history and google of course. But I never thought I would learn something from my tiny bundle of joy, my baby. The first and foremost lesson I learnt from him was that the best gifts of life don’t come wrapped in shiny packages. And ever since then, my son never ceased to teach me.

My son is 18 months old now. Wait a minute, did I say OLD? If 18 months is old, then I must be antique. Ok. Bad joke. Lets get back to the teachings. As my son grows in age, so do I as a mother and here is what I have learnt so far.

1.     Take no shame in letting your loved ones know that you need them: He throws tantrums when I am around yet busy enough to ignore him. He tries hard to gain my attention. Sometimes he even fake cries and indicates he bumped his head and is hurt and comes to me with stretched hands and beams as soon as I hold him in my arms. Well, mission accomplished.

2.     Accept it when you miss someone: When I am back from office, my son, jumps with joy and runs towards me with stretched arms and is all smiles. It makes me feel special and makes my day. He does the same when his grandparents come to visit him.

3.        Its okay to vent out your anger every now and then, but give an easy forgivance: He yells and shouts at me, clearly indicating that he is mad at me. But little coaxing and cajoling, soothes his mood and senses. And then, we are on friendly terms.

4.      Dance if the music says so: He dances to his favorite songs. Its not much of a dance and comprises of swaying, flapping hands and tapping feet. Its not graceful and does not follow any rhythm. But that doesn't stop him from dancing. May be we humans, were built that way. To dance to the music but are too civilized and shy away from doing so.

      Sky is the limit when you have your mom’s support:

      I usually hold my son onto the window grills and support his back with my tummy. He tries climbing further up or changes foot from one grill to the other and has fun in his own way. But one day, so as to make his fun moments funnier, I raised my son a little higher and let him hold onto the curtain rods. The room was filled with his giggles. Apparently my idea had gone well with him and I patted myself for it. Then he looked expectantly at me and pointed towards the tube light. PHEWWW!!!

      God is male:

      Yes. That’s right and I learnt it the hard way. One day I was feeding my son, the “fussy eater”. I secretly pray to God while feeding him that he should eat his fill now. Like any other day, he pursed his lips on seeing the peeled banana rush at his mouth. I patiently waited for him to open his mouth and deftly stove it inside, the moment his lips parted. I was happy for the tiny bite that I could force him to have and the very next second, he spat it out. With a painful look at the disposed piece of banana, I thought, “It would have been a lot more better had this piece landed in him tummy rather than the floor..” And lo! My son picked up the half chewed lump from the dusty dirty floor and swallowed. My immediate thought was, “Oh God! Not from the floor. You took it literally.” Had I known that God was listening to me at the moment, I would have been a little more specific. Now anyone rightly misunderstanding a female should be a male right? You get my point? Great!
 

Shopping. With my SON????

We went shopping with my son, a one and a half year old toddler. And the experience is worth sharing. My dear husband had taken up the duty of taking care of my son while I selected my clothes and after some time I hear squeals, loud and shrill. I asked my husband what the matter was. My husband looked around and very carefully whispered “He wants to go the women’s lingerie section.” I gave a stifled laugh a good scene it would have made, a man and a toddler checking out women’s lingerie. Pitying my husband, I took my son to the trial room with me. While I was busy trying the clothes, my son was deftly opening the latch of the trial room. Had a tough time there.

After selecting my clothes, we went to the kids section. I was given the task of handling my son whereas my husband took up the less challenging task of selecting clothes for him. This was when my son descended from my arms and removed his pant. Did I mention that he has a severe dislike towards anything that covers him below his waist? He squealed when I tried to pull the pant up onto his waist and I ignored his squeals. But to my dismay the security guard came running to see what the commotion was all about. He cooled down on seeing the source of commotion. I begged him to reprimand my child or to atleast glower at him so that he keeps quiet. But my pleadings were left behind by the toddler’s charm. He smiled at my son and left. Quite an insensitive guy. I turned at my son and tried threatening and coaxing alternately but he wouldn’t wear his pant. I gave in and dragged my son to his dad. On seeing his dad, he started pulling down his diaper. I couldn’t let this happen as I wasn’t carrying a spare diaper. My attempts at handing over the baby to his dad were turned futile as my son was clinging to me and let out few more squeals. As I dreaded, he managed to get rid of the diaper. I could take it no more and decided to take my half naked son to the loo. I deftly found my way to the loo while my husband was picking up clothes for my son. At the washrooms, when I waited for my son to pee, he tried to slip into the toilet seat instead. Luckily, my grip was tight and I didn’t let him slip. The dejected me, took him back to where his dad was. No. He did not pee in the toilet.

By now my son was cranky and was slithering down my arms. We decided to feed him before buying my husband’s clothes. We took him to Mc Donalds. Please don’t get judgemental at this point. We tried to give him healthy food at home but he spat them out. Just for a change we wanted to try some healthy junk for him. my husband ordered a Mc Aaloo tikki for the tike but he chose to have French fries instead. Very healthy indeed. He was standing on the table all the while and chewing the fries. His poor dad was busy holding him and I busied myself with my paneer wrap. When it was my husband’s turn to eat, my diaperless son, peed on the table. It took us some time to clean and we got my husband’s untouched food packed. My husband could no longer keep up with our menace and decided to go home and that’s how our shopping came to an abrupt end.

This is just a glimpse of 3 hours with my son, imagine what an entire day would look like. A roller coaster ride?? Now you know how I lost weight. For all those friends of mine who envy me for losing considerable amount of weight post pregnancy, I am sure this post has earned me some sympathy.

P.S. He spat out chewed lump of French fries on my lap while heading home. I wonder why he doesn’t swallow anything.

Wierdo Hairdo

Most part of my life I had long hair. i.e until my 10^th standard I had it running below my  hips. But had to cut it short as its weight was giving me headaches. The next 2 years I let it grow and it grew again as it always does. (Touch wood). I cut it when I had to join a hostel but grew it again as I realized that the short hair was tickling my neck constantly. Since then I maintained it upto my waist. But alas! After my marriage, my husband didn’t allow me to cut it. If he liked my long hair, he never said it. But he was always against me cutting my hair and it managed to grow below my hips. A thick long braided  hair makes a good sight to the onlookers and also makes you the older generation’s favorite. But trust me, its such an ordeal to maintain it. I had to be constantly careful to not sit on my own hair. Many a nights I was force awakened when my husband tossed onto my hair in sleep. At crowded places like temples on a festival, buses and all such places when I had to  squeeze my self forward to get going, I had to pull my hair that would get tangled with the shirt buttons or bag zippers or the intricate embroidered dresses of those around me. Hey don’t get me wrong, all through, I loved my hair very dearly. But all the above are “as a matter of factly” statements which I thought everyone else who didn’t or don’t have long hair should know.

I had a mannat that I would shave my head on my son’s mundan along with  my son. And hell broke loose when my parents came to know of my weird mannat. My husband gave a “that’s disgusting” look and I maintained my “Whatever” attitude. Finally the day of the mundan arrived and I parted with my Umph factor. I thought I would feel sad but on the contrary I was relieved. My head felt light and for the first time in my lifetime I could feel the breeze caressing my scalp. It felt great that way. Oiling and washing my head took no time. But I didn’t like the no hair on my head look but that didn’t bother me as I seldom look at the mirror. Yup. That’s true. My husband bought me scarves and told me to cover my head with them when at office. I was absolutely comfortable to go out with my no hair head but was forced to put on the scarf as my in laws laughed at me when I told them that I would go to office without covering my no hair head. They said it would look awkward to go out like that and I was foolish enough to believe them. 5 minutes after reaching office I removed the cloth covering my head. It looked green now with tiny hairs sprouting from their follicles. I was absolutely comfortable that way but wasn’t sure how others felt about it and I didn’t care. That day many people told me this, “HEY! You had such a beautiful hair. Why did you do this?” few of them were strangers. i.e. I knew that they existed on the same floor by their faces but didn’t know their names or anything about them. It was a revelation for me that I was known at office by my long hair. Few of my friends asked me, “You might have felt sad to see your hair go. Didn’t you?” and strange though it sounds, I didn’t have even a tinge of regret or remorse. A little later that day, came this good lady from the next cubicle who told my teammate, “But she looks pretty even without hair.” Now I must say this really came as a surprise to me. I wasn’t looking pretty when I saw myself in the mirror. This good lady must be having a heart of gold I should say. Though I didn’t believe her, I smiled. It made me happy. 

My hair has now grown upto the neck and is trying its way upto the shoulders and almost everyone I come across say that short hair suits me a lot better than long hair. But by now, I have become immune to peoples taunts or complements when it comes to my looks. Yes, I do miss my long hair but short hair is more rewarding for someone who is constantly racing against time. My head might look like a man’s now but I just don’t care for I know that I had spent enough of my time tending to my hair and would do it no more. My hair might turn gray in coming years and my skin would wrinkle in another couple of years. Why should I invest my time on something so short lived?  I don’t want to waste my time to fit into someone else’s definition of good looking or beautiful. Haven’t you heard of the age old saying - “Beauty lies in the eyes of its beholder”.