Me ThInKs

In the last 3 months....

Why is time flying faster than usual, I wonder. Looking at my last post, its hard for me to believe that the last time I wrote anything on my blog was in Jan. Exactly three months later, I am here once again to post something trivial, but new. A lot happened in the last few weeks. I made a long trip to India. My child's baptism FINALLY happened, although personally the ceremony was more of a joke, considering that only 15 people turned up. Very good number if you consider that only 17 were invited in the first place. And like almost every important ceremony, there was a huge confusion about who should be the godfather of the child. The priest kept reassuring us- It is the RIOT of the boy's father's father to be the godfather.

I stayed away from writing any poems for so long. And suddenly I worry that if I try to write a poem now, it just wont happen. Two birthday cakes from my fav cake shop in cochin turned up at home. Needless to say, I did more than full justice to them. Mom turned 49. The only reason why am writing that is because she has a phobia of turning 50, and I have a phobia of turning 30. NOT that I am 29 as yet. Am only GOING to turn 27 this sep. But since anxiety is a part of me, am worrying right now itself.

My baby boy is growing up so fast. Next month he turns a whole 1 year old. Where did time go? It feel slike, just yesterday I was on the operation table, half doped out, and lost in another world. Just yesterday that I held him for the first time and thinking how fragile he was, when both his parents are such huge sizes ( in my mother in law's words). Today, he can stand by himself, and is a chatterbox just like me. Of late, he loves being chased around the house by me, while his dad carries him. He knows how to get his way around me. One sad look of his and I melt faster than an ice cream. I really think that parents in a way are their children's slaves. He even has two little teeth which show every time he smiles. Truth be told, I am so fascinated by this little guy, right from the twinkle in his eye, to the way he cuddles upto me at night for warmth. I think of all the roles, I have played in life, motherhood rules.

Of course, on the other hand I am left behind, seeing one classmate after another climb managerial positions, while I am now a housewife. I hate that term. I think its got to do with the prejudice that people have about being a housewife, like oh she couldnt get a job, wasnt good enough, or oh she cooks and cleans and does nothing else. Content writing doesnt count as a job. People just politely nod when I say I am a writer. I guess to most, a writer means a person with untidy hair. a leaking pen, and a waste basket full of crumpled up paper. I want to stand up and say that yes sir, I cook and clean, and doing so was my choice. Simply because I cant bear the thought of a stranger raising my kid. And if I have lost out on a fatter bank account because of that decision, then by God, so be it. Someday when my baby boy grows up to be a fine young man, I know I will smile and be proud. Both of myself and him.