First Diwali in Singapore

Last year was my first diwali in Singapore or for that matter, first ever diwali outside India. Diwali was middle of the week day with just one holiday at office. To be really honest, my expectations of celebrations were really low, for many reasons – no extended family, just one holiday, ‘how can diwali be fun outside India’ etc. However I was pleasantly surprised. My diwali here was really action packed and full of fun. This city is amazing; at least half the year goes in celebrations. From Oct to Feb, it’s all celebrations, holidays and festivity. It begins with Diwali where Little India becomes a month long festive fair followed by a big grand Christmas where it feels like the whole city is one grand Christmas tree decorated with the best decorations ever designed and ends with bright red celebration of Chinese New year, when not just China town is decorated; even the rest of the city offers deals, discounts, decorations, dragon dance, orange plants etc. It makes you feel like there is a place for everyone and anyone to make home here, to make it their own here and even everybody else’s.

Anyway coming back to my diwali, it started with card parties beginning from two weekends before diwali and a weekend after diwali so that is continuous four weekends of dinner invites and cards. Now these dinners are a real serious affair, you block dates weeks in advance and you host the best Indian food. The house is beautifully done with rangoli of flowers and lit up with best candles and most ethnically done diyas, gone are the days of simple mud and oil diyas. Some enthusiastic hosts even had themes to the party. One of the good ones that I attended was  themed on ‘Indian streets’ where the food served was all Indian street food; batata vada, pav bhaji, keema pav, sev puri and then yummy jalebis. No it doesn’t end here, the icing on the cake was the banarasi paan. The host really took a lot of efforts in logistically organizing all this. The paav (Indian bread) came from Mumbai with some friends and the paan also came a week in advance from India and was frozen – now that I call as some planning and enthusiasm. Food, décor and now comes the clothes - for all these parties the dress code was best Indian fineries. Everyone was in best saris from Sabyasachi to Calcutta prints to Banarasi silks with sexy blouses. I had left all my heavy Indian clothes back home in India thinking I will never need them in Singapore, so I had to make do with the couple of saris that I had, but I survived beautifully well.

Now comes the turn for my party. Firstly I didn’t know that I would have to host a diwali party so I wasn’t prepared from months before to organize anything from India. So I did something intelligent, I kept the theme of my party as ‘Patiala house’ where everything was Punjabi. Now anything Punjabi is my comfort zone as I am one. The food was chicken tikka, fish tikka, handi chicken, chole, aalo chaat, gulab jaman. Except for the chicken & fist tikka, everything was cooked at home by my helper or me. The dress code was Punjabi salwars as this saved me from not having another sari. And the mood was most Punjabi thanks to my husband’s Patiala pegs and my collection of Punjabi songs. The house was full of flower and diya decorations. All in all it was a fun night and everyone had fun. I lost a lot of money in the card game and that too dollars and not Indian rupees and I got drunk. In between all these parties, there was a diwali gathering in my condo where my son lighted diwali sparkles with his friends. So that’s a tick for the crackers part of diwali, without which diwali would have been incomplete, especially if you have a kid at home.

If my thoughts trigger a thought of your own, do leave a comment. I love reading your comments.

The girl in the bar

I have grown up watching a lot of Hollywood movies. One scene that is quite common in multiple movies is this girl coming alone, in her little black dress, to a bar and ordering a drink. More often than not she orders for either vodka-tonic on gin-tonic. And here comes this hot looking young dude hitting on her. Now that is my fantasy to be this girl in the bar. I have never been to a bar alone. I have always had friends or boy friend or husband some one always with me. So I wonder sometimes how it feels to wear that black sexy dress and sit on that bar stool and be hit by a hot looking stranger. Now whether I accept that strangers offer or not would depend on multiple things but that’s not the point. This isn’t one of those unattainable fantasies, it is quite doable. I just need to find the right night for it, hopefully soon. Now to some this may seem like it’s only loosers who do this or want to be alone but to me it’s fascinating because sometimes all you need is to look good, get drunk and talk silly and that’s best when it’s a stranger not judging you.
It’s interesting how some of the images that we watch multiple times become our real life fantasies.

The Morning bus ride

For last ten months in Singapore, I have been taking Bus no. 51 to office. But it’s only recently I realized that I really enjoy this 20 mins of my morning bus ride. It is actually one of the best times of my day. I like sitting on the upper deck of the bus. It’s has more sunlight so it feels closer to the nature and is lesser busy than the lower deck where you are always distracted by the people getting in and out of the door. The ones that are there in the bus are busy with a gadget either playing a game or chatting on the phone or an ipad, so in the lower deck you only end up looking at these people. But I love the window seat on the upper deck. It makes me feel as if I have risen above the materialistic world. I feel as if I can now see the larger picture of life. From the window I see all people rushing to office and somehow I feel I am not among them though actually even I am one of them. I feel like I can now see the larger meaning of life which they cannot. It’s the time when I feel most relaxed and some best thoughts and ideas come to me during this time. I am able to see beyond the visible from here. Also it has a weird balanced comfort level, where you are amongst the strangers but still since you travel every day it’s a familiar place. So I like the fact that no one knows me and I don’t need to know anyone. It’s amazing what simple things can make you feel or the positive impact that it can have on you and you don’t even realize it. So tell me who says bus travel is slow and boring, to me it’s MY time.

You are beautiful!

I was at my son Neev’s school. A little American girl came to me and said ‘Neev’s mama you are beautiful’. I couldn’t stop my smile. I hugged her and said ‘Not as much as you’. All I know is suddenly I felt beautiful. A lot of people compliment us –friends, family, husbands, boy friends and colleagues, all the people who we know and matter. We get compliments at different places -parties, office, date, places and events which matter, where we have high stakes. But still some of the best compliments are the ones that you least expected or they are from someone your least expected. It is a special feeling when someone, mostly a stranger who has no selfish interest in making you happy, gives you a compliment. It simply feels genuine and honest. Many years back I got a similar compliment when I was doing a consumer group. As part of my job then, I had to meet consumers, young women and discuss with them about their idea of beauty. A woman then told me that ‘I want to be beautiful like you’. This again was this unexpected compliment that made me happy. It’s really not about whether you are beautiful or not it’s about what makes you feel beautiful and these are the moments that made me feel beautiful.

My second first beer!

My husband was traveling and I was feeling extremely low and lonely. No this is not about why I was low, that’s for another time. This is about something else, a first time experience of something by chance on a lonely weekend.
I was sunk into my laptop all day and the only time I emerged out, was for kiddy talks with my son, kiddy stories and even more kiddier games. Basically I was tired and bored. I hadn’t stepped out of home.
So when my son slept for his Sunday afternoon nap and I was about to have lunch, I opened the refrigerator for a Diet Pepsi. It was a hot Mumbai summer afternoon, something chilly would definitely do good to me. There was no Pepsi in the refrigerator and while I was shutting the door, in between the gap of the refrigerator and its door, I saw an inviting can of beer. Something inside me said why not!
I know you must be wondering what’s the big deal in having a beer. Well you are right; there is no big deal in having a beer. I had my first beer when I just passed class 10, many, many years back. That was my first sip of alcohol back then, so it was a big deal then, not now. Interestingly, it was kind of a big deal even now because this time was the first time I was having it alone.
I always associated beer with fun and friends, something chilled to chill around. So while I was opening the can of the beer, it reminded me even more of the fact that there is no one to have this beer with. I had the first sip of beer and here is when the story began twisting. The first sip of a chilled beer is so gratifying that nothing else matters. One can really feel it pass down from your lips, to the throat, to your entire body system. And as it passed down, it magically took away every bit of grumpiness from every bit of me. I enjoyed it all by myself and I felt happy. I loved the fact that I am loving it alone. I loved the fact that I didn’t need anybody or anything else to feel happy. I loved the fact that sometimes happiness is just a refrigerator away. Try it!

Neev’s first day at school or was it mine???

The day before School:
Neev started his playgroup this June. I haven’t felt so nervous since a very long time as I felt the Sunday before his school. I went through the Parent instruction sheet multiple time to ensure I haven’t missed anything, checked his school bag three times. I counseled Neev since about a week before, about how exciting school would be- the toys, kids, games etc, just so that he has no first day fevers. I planned the day such that we are off to bed by nine (2 hours earlier than our otherwise bed time) and if you are a mother you would know this also needs pre-planning- early dinner, earlier afternoon nap, earlier morning etc. I had to keep reminding myself it’s not a school, it’s a playgroup and by mere definition it means, it’s a place where you come to play as a group but this didn’t reduce any anxiety. I was nervous as this was a new place for Neev, not just that this would be the first time, first place, where Neev would be alone without any one of us. Also what if he doesn’t like the school, he cries, other kids hit him etc etc.
On the school day:
We were the first ones to reach school, about ten mins earlier than we should have. Slowly kids started coming in and to my surprise the environment started getting more and more festive. I realized they were many more slightly nervous, slightly excited parents like me with their first child going for first day at school. There were dads and moms with cameras, pictures, new school bags, water bottles, etc.
First three days of school, mothers were allowed to sit in so I went and sat in the class room which was one empty room with colorful floor mat and lots of toys. With a microscopic eye, I scanned every corner where my son would now spend 2 hours of 5 days in a week. All kids sat together, sang a prayer, played with toys, sang rhymes, it was so much fun. It almost felt like I was back to school, only this time I remember my first day. As time progressed Neev got comfortable and I was getting a bit relaxed too. Just then appears this boy who tries to snatch a toy from Neev’s hand and Neev in no time hits him back. Now this is something I surely wasn’t prepared for. Happy, playful environment turns into howls of this other boy. I took few minutes to register what just happened and to figure out how I should react. I scolded Neev and asked him to apologize to the other boy. And thankfully that day Neev listens to me and actually says ‘sorry’. And I promptly smile as if I just got a ‘good parent’ award. But with this came home a worry that was this a sign that will Neev grow up to be will be a violent kid, who will hit other children in school. But here I would like to go with my husband’s theory that there are two kinds of kids, one who hit others and others who get hit, at least our son is not the one who gets hit. But reassuringly no hitting happened next day or even the days after and Neev is having a blast in his ‘play group’.

A syambar…isn’t that an interesting concept

These days I have been watching this reality show – Rakhi ka syambar. A syambar was a ritual mentioned in our epics where many princes went to the court of princess, where she used to choose the prince she would like to marry. Leave alone the content and review of the show but what got me fascinated is the modern interpretation of syambar in this show. Isn’t it interesting that many guys come try and impress you just so that you choose one of them to get married. I think even I would like a syambar but without the marriage in the end. I would just like to date all of them, give them tasks and then keep eliminating till I am down to just 3 or 4 left and that’s about it.
Actually who wouldn’t want this. We all know by now that Mr. right is just an idea in our mind and not a reality. No guy is actually perfect or the Prince charming as we have imagined. Each guy that we got attracted to in our lives has a glimpse or two of our Mr. Right but also lacked an aspect or two. So this syambar gives a chance of enjoying all aspects of our ‘prince charming’ but not through one but multiple guys. Now of course that happens in real life too but not at the same time. If one guy has some great qualities, a couple dates later, the not so great ones start surfacing. Yes, the winner in this idea is to get to experience all the things that we desire in our man through many men but at the same time as if it's one. I know this sounds a little whacko but think about it: a laughter riot lunch with this guy with most amazing sense of humor, a run in the eve with this sporty hunk and a candle light dinner, violins in the background, my little back dress and the most romantic guy. Now if one guy can’t have all of this- humor, sporty and romantic but I still desire all of this in the same day then why not all three. Now lets accept it, this does sound fun but of course minus the marriage.
Before I seem more and more weird, I think I should stop my imaginations here and stop watching too many reality shows.

Whether you find this silly or fun, do leave a comment, i will be happy to read.

Unfulfilled Love

Sometimes I think that the most fulfilling love is the one that is unfulfilled. I know it sounds weird in beginning but it’s true. I also took long to realize this little truth about love, as in really long, almost one entire age for love. The feeling of longing for your love is a lot more intense than the phase after you think you have got your love. When I look back, the most precious moments of my love with my husband are actually the ones before we got married when he chased me or the phase when he fought the hardships of convincing my parents for our marriage. May be this is the reason why most famous love stories don’t have happy endings, may be this unfulfilled love of theirs is what makes their story so immortal.
I also sometimes think that every person has at least one unfulfilled love hidden somewhere in their heart. This is what keeps their belief in love going. It is this longing which makes life painful and yet satisfying. The thought of it, may not come everyday but surely in those moments of solitude when only you can hear yourself or in those when you are so happy that even in spite of sharing it with all your near and dear ones, you still feel the joy a little incomplete or when you are so sad that you wish you had only that one person around, even if its only just for a brief moment.
This unfulfilled love doesn’t mean that all the other fulfilled love that you have lived or are your life today are not true. They are all true, in fact more real than the unfulfilled one which probably is just an imagination, fantasy or a search of not a person but of a feeling, a passionate love that you thought how it should be. You sometimes see it come to you or at least experience a glimpse of it but because it’s so beautiful that you are scared that if you get too close to it or if you let it touch you for long, the reality of your life might get disturbed. The reality which you believe will write your future therefore which cannot be negotiated at any cost.
I wish life wasn’t as complicated as this little piece of my writing sounds but unfortunately life is complicated. But I am glad that I realize this complication. I realize that some things are most fulfilling when they are unfulfilled and I don’t want to loose this one fulfillment.

If my thoughts trigger a thought of your own, do write a comment, I will be happy to read.

Now I know what “Naughty” means

My 21 month old Neev is getting naughtier by the day. I always saw other naughty kids and thought their moms never disciplined them which is why they behave like this, my son will never behave like this, and he will be a productive child and not a destructive one. This was only till few days back. Neev is growing up to break my every plan of rules and regulation in my bringing up. Let me just cut the chase and come directly to the first two big mischiefs of Neev. Big only because they caused a damage to my already shrinking pocket.
About 15 days back, Neev threw his water bottle down the window from the 5th floor to hit to a windshield glass of my neighbors Innova car. This boy who otherwise refuses to bowl and always wants to bat suddenly felt like a bowler that moment. Damage= Rs.11000
Just last week Neev decided to swing on my washing machine door and broke it. I thought he spends enough time in the garden swinging on the rides but it probably wasn’t enough. Damage = Rs. 300 + a week of unwashed clothes
I fear to think what could be coming up next. I now take all possible precautions to ensure there is no more damage but my son doesn’t have to take much effort to surprise me these days. He is not even two but talks like a four year old. Every evening I come back from work to see some new words and concepts he has already learnt in a day. But this is fine and I actually feel happy to see him as an early learner but what I surely am not comfortable with is this restless, hyper active kid breaking things.

If my thoughts trigger a thought of your own, do write a comment, I will be happy to read.

Moments of guilt

Two 'out of routine' things happened with me in last few days. First was about ten days back when I was getting ready in the morning for work, is when my nineteen month old son, for the first time in last one year, that’s since when I have started working post my maternity break, says “Mama office mat jao, mama dadi-house nahin jana” which means “Mama don’t go to office, I don’t want to go to grand-ma’s house”. This paused everything living or non-living in this world for me, for a split second. This is something I was dreading ever since I started working but it had to happen one day. Till now my son never realized or understood this daily parting. My in-laws did a fairly good job in keeping him entertained through the day, such that he never really missed me. But this day, made me realize in no time that my son now understands and hence desires and demands for me to be with him, more than I do.
As if this wasn’t enough to disturb something inside me, day before yesterday I get a call from home saying that my son has hurt him self. I had to rush home, take him to a surgeon for stitches. Till date i thought vaccination was dreadful, anxiety always took over whenever I had to take my son for that horrible but important task. The thought of that evil needle poking the tender skin of my son always made me nervous. But the courage required to hear your child cry in pain for ten long minutes, while the doctor does whatever he has to, to stitch that bruised skin, was all together another level of bravery. I felt so helpless.
Both these instances made me feel guilty, may be more momentarily but also as a constant thought within me always -the guilt for being a working mom. I know even if I were home, I couldn’t have saved him from falling or getting hurt, it had nothing to do with my working. But still every time any such thing happens, it just shakes me up, making me doubt about the decisions and ambitions of my life. Life is about give and take. I just hope that me being a working mom, gives both of us- my son and me, much more than it will take from us. Actually some where I know it will make both of us better people and will help us to grow to be what we want to be but even then, this seed of doubt always crawls in.
However when I came to office the next day after my son got hurt, one of my friend checked about how my son is doing and casually said that “hey so he has now become a boy, every boy gets stitches and there is more to come”. What got left behind with me was ‘There is more to come’, more of both of the above two incidents of last few days will now come my way more often and I have to be prepared. With this preparation, I elevated to this second stage of my motherhood.

If my thoughts trigger a thought of you own, do post a comment. I would love to read.