To the Bakery

This is an introduction to another character in this story. I don't know her yet, but I'm waiting to find out. I think I like her. I'm sure you weren't expecting this after Destination Parenthood. I wasn't either!

To the Bakery!

I clear out the kitchen counter to make room for my new machine. But before I place it ever-so-gently on the counter, I give it a tight hug and a slight peck on its shiny steel surface where it reads KichenAid. Aah! No better words have ever been written! 'Imagine what beauties we will bake together, my pretty!' I am busy relishing this moment when a flash of white light blinds me.

‘If you’d only ever hold me so close! Now I’m a bit worried about gifting you this!’ Mayank says smilingly and then proceeds to click a dozen more photos of me and my beloved. I unabashedly display my affection for my new love and happily pose away.

‘I think you should give it a name. And a gender too. Please let it not be a man! And don’t call it Shahrukh, or it’s going right back to the store!’

‘Damn, that was my first option: SRK 2012.’ I raise my eyebrows and pout my lips in plea and he bends forward and pretends to put my beloved back in its terrible box and take it away. ‘Nahiiii,’ I shout dramatically. Just as Mayank prepares his juicy filmy retort, his phone rings. He places the machine back on the counter, pecks me on the cheek and leaves to take the call.

‘Just you and me then, Shahrukh…’ I plonk myself next to my birthday present and begin reading the instruction manual.

Destination Parenthood

Hi, I feel a new story brewing within me but I don't quite know what it is presently. Would you like to join me on this journey till the end? Don't know what will happen next really. I'm writing it as I post. But do keep your feedback coming. And remember, this is FICTION! Here goes section one:

Destination Parenthood.

‘It’s like I have two hearts now. One that belongs to my wife, and the other belongs to her,’ he says as he holds his three-year-old close to him.

I smile vaguely. I must, I suppose or what would he think of me? Haw! A mother to be who has simply no interest in his experience of parenthood? Despicable! I really want to roll my eyes at him but I dare not.

There are so many things I want to say to him: Hey, hello, good for you but I’m not interested. And so what, everyone has a child…what’s so special about you and yours? And finally, I’m just three weeks pregnant and I don’t get any of this. Truth be told, I never wanted this … this child, anyway.

All right, hold the bus. Don’t go all judgemental on me. We thought about it. You know, about letting ‘it’ go, terminat … okay, that’s too harsh a word… but well we discussed it. And I’m not ashamed of that, even though the whole time all I heard was my mum gasping from heaven. We just weren’t ready. I still am not. But here we are, three weeks and an ultrasound later, listening to Gopi chacha’s fatherly adventures. Sigh.

‘The first few months are actually the easiest and the toughest at the same time…’ Rita chachi’s voice phases in and out. The first few months once the baby is here – out – ouch – and here we are three weeks into the pregnancy. I can’t even imagine my life once this baby comes! I’m freaking out. I try to catch Abhishek’s eye and pray that the fake telepathy we claim to have becomes real for just one second. Look at me. Look. At. Me.

His telepathy with the samosa is much stronger, as it turns out. Why am I not surprised? Okay, must find a way to change the topic on my own – I am a confident, strong, independent woman, I say to myself. Go. ‘Aur, chachi, when do you plan to join back work?’ And suddenly, I’ve got more attention than I can handle. Oops.

The Joys of Masihood

Someone asked me recently how it felt to be a masi. I answered thus: I feel like a mom, almost.

That’s what it is, I guess. Ma jaise…but not quite. It is like experiencing motherhood through your sister. And how lucky I feel to be able to watch both my sister and niece grow each day. And I see a dad being born too. But me, I have always been a masi – I am convinced. Have we ever lived without this scrumptious little treat, this beautiful little doll, our Janya? How?

Ah, the joys of masihood…watching a baby grow and watching your sister transform into someone you never thought possible. This must be what they call ‘the miracle of birth’, for isn’t it a miracle how one tiny life can change so many people?

Run, Forrest, Run!

I've been running - prepping for the 10K run in October but I'm afraid I haven't made much headway yet. The thing I find toughest is being consistent and I think that's why I am not able to break my 3K run. Speed isn't great either and by the time I hit 3.5K, in Murakami's words, 'my legs start to scream'.

But I haven't given up. I am going to keep trying. While reading 'What I Talk About When I Talk About Running' I came across a passage that really motivated me and directly addressed my problem of consistence and persistence. This is what he says:

"I never take two days off in a row. Muscles are like work animals that are quick on the uptake. If you carefully increase the load, step by step, they learn to take it. As long as you explain your expectations to them by actually showing them examples of the amount of work they have to endure, your muscles will comply and gradually get stronger. It doesn't happen overnight. But as long as you take your time and do it in stages, they won't complain - aside from the occasional long face - and they'll very patiently and obediently go stronger. Through repetition you input your muscles the message that this is how much work they have to perform. Our muscles are very conscientious. As long as we observe the correct procedure, they won’t complain."

This is a lot like how our mind works too...and how channels and habits of thinking are created. We must not be slaves to our mind...and our mind mustn't be a slave to our muscles! Got to show 'em who's boss!

In more exciting news, I've bought myself a Pedometer I lovingly call speedy peedy (don't ask why). This way I can run in the open and still keep a track of things and that's a good thing.

Run for Sanity

I thought, hey, it’s time to start a new blog. And then I realized I already have one with an apt name for my latest passion. I am still in search of sanity, and I’m making a run for it.

Hi guys, it’s been long since I wrote … I think I’ve lost ‘it’ but whatever ‘it’ is, I’m going to get it back because, well, writing was always the first love of my life. And that’s why I hate it so much. Confused? Join the club.

So what brings me back? I’m training for a 10k run in October. Ten k, you say? What’s the biggie in that, you wonder? Well, I had started off thinking I’d run a marathon, that’s back when I thought 10k was the length of the marathon! Ha! It’s not! A marathon is about 42 kms! Who the hell can run for 42 kms! Apparently, lots of people do!

I’m starting small. I have never been a runner all my life. You remember how our ‘physical training’ teachers in school would make the entire class run around the field twice, maybe three during ‘P.T. period’, just as a formality? Well, that too was a struggle for me. Even at that age. And I am ashamed of it. There are many things I wished I could do in my life, one of them was to be able to run. Makes you think, huh?

I have spent the last one and half years trying to get myself into shape. This meant I would go for a walk for 20 to 30 mins every other day, for some time I joined aerobics classes which took place thrice a week for an hour, and again later I joined a gym where we did varied things every day, from kick boxing to weight training, interval training … the works. My stint at the last gym lasted about four months and it was more rigourous. It was while working out here that I discovered my dream of being a runner could become a reality. You see, the instructor was just feeling lazy one day and asked us to jog around the hall for 10 mins. Yeah, right! Ten minutes, continuously! I won’t be able to do this. The last time I had tried to run on the treadmill, I had to stop after about three mins because I would get breathless. But guys, I ran. I ran for ten mins and I could keep going.

This may sound silly to people who are fitter than me, or generally fit. Do you guys know you are a dying species, by the way?

All I need right now: my two legs, shoes,
 Murakami and  lots and lots of water :)

Anyway, it’s week two of training. In the first week, I jogged for two kilometres continuously, which took me about twenty minutes. I have ramped it up to two and a half in about thirty minutes. Today I ran in the park for forty minutes and I feel good. I usually run on the treadmill – saves me from the weather and lets me keep a check on the time, speed and distance covered – it’s easier, I realized, than running in the open. Since the marathon will be on the road, I have decided to run outside at least once a week.

I don’t know if I’ll make it but in all this, I really hope I transform into a runner. I’m not much of a go getter, more of an easy-going gal, so I can only pray that this passion stays on. But for now, I’m on the move and happy!

My message for today: DON’T TAKE YOUR LEGS FOR GRANTED! 

Dots of Life

I touch the leaves

Press the flowers between my fingers

Circle the garden and look outside the gate

cars are passing.

I find a stone sitting carelessly near my feet and draw patterns in the sand that fills the flower pots

The flowers bend towards me with curiosity

I carelessly drop the prehistoric pen leaving the flowers to study their new decorations

I hear a car honking and I rush to peep over the garden wall

It pauses lightly and then turns away

I do too, and begin writing on the bricks with small pieces of a broken pot.

No one's coming home to see me today