Thoughts from Home

I'm weird. When I was in Singapore, I dreamed about getting away from the drudgery of house work and being with other adults other than my husband. Now that I am here away from my little flat, I find that its the only thing I think about all the time. Are my flowers ok, are my fishes alright, is the flat neat and tidy or is the kitchen a mess? I have a clear idea about how the place should look and I get so upset and irritated when something is out of place. But still Monica remains the more extreme character! How I wish I could snap my fingers and the flat would get magically clean on its own. I would have enough time for all the little things , that I miss doing so much.


I read a magazine once where it stressed the importance of having a life map in place. The focus should be equally placed on where you want to go in your career and also the levels you would like to reach in your relationships. I have been toying around with the idea of making one for a long time now, and perhaps someday I will when kiddo is not around. The idea of a life map fits in perfectly for someone who likes everything planned like me. Just what surprises life may instead have in store is a different thing altogether.


Everything at home still is much the same... Mom is still the one who says no to just about anything ( Ma can we have ice cream- NOOO. silence. after 2 minutes. Ma, can we have some ice cream?  I thought I said no??. ok. But we're taking some anyways..imagine my sister and me sitting with a whole pack of ice cream while mom shakes her head complaining about this generation and the two brats that she has raised!) Dad, who secretly loves getting surprise gifts, still puts on a small act when he gets one( Oh you didnt have to buy it..ohhhh, you shouldnt spend so much...)Nikki will still ask after she gets her huge bag of gifts- is this all? I thought you would get me this and that! She is so good at getting her way. My poor kid says the word pizza, because there's a pic of a pizza slice in one of his books. To him anything in a particular shape is a pizza- a slice of bread, a chappathi or even a samosa. To which my cunning little sister says- ' See, akka we should really order a pizza. Poor kuttu keeps saying pizza pizza all day'. Point proven. I know just how much pizza my kid will eat if i do order one. He will most likely admire the shape, take a nibble and then be off somewhere.. I wonder how many other poor sisters like me are being blackmailed into increasing the  profits of Dominoes? But despite my rant, I actually like buying these little things for my sister. Its always nice to be pampered, no matter what age you are, and even better when the purchase in question is on the expensive side!


Its so sweet to see how my little kid adores his young little aunt. His face lights up when he sees her and he gives her atleast ten hugs and kisses a day. The way he clings to her legs is so cute. It reminds me of how Nikki used to behave when she would see me come home after college. There's something so innocent about the way a child loves you- there's no pretense, no judgments made, just pure love. That must be why the saints and other holy people keep telling people to show love the way a child does. Love seriously gets harder as you grow up. 

Home Tidbits- Back to where I belong

The journey from Singapore to Cochin this time is one I really want to forget. My little brat has a very clear policy- If he cant get sleep, then NOBODY else on the flight is going to either! So, between smiling at the pretty air hostesses( now why cant they have some eye candy for us women up in the air too??) and screaming as loudly as he could in spite of having his own seat, he found time to drop a chilled glass of orange juice on the person sitting next to him. In between while I was gobbling down my dinner ( yes, keeping up with a kid really burns up calories), he very neatly flicked the little bottle of water from the same passenger's tray table. Thinking that poor guy had gone through enough already, I got up and went to the last row. Throughout the flight, I ended up standing and trying to rock my kid to sleep. When I got off the plane, my left arm was sore and swollen. And my kid? he royally forgot me the minute he saw my sister and parents. So much for a thank you!

There's something nice about being home after a long time. To me 6-7months is long. Its great to step into my room, which I insisted would continue to look like a teenager's room, than that of a girl who was married and now a mother. In a way, I wanted to keep in touch with that part of me before marriage and hold on to things that I cherished over the years. So many little precious things make up my room- little presents from friends, my first cuddly toy which was a monkey, my collection of birthday cards and my book case stand which is stuffed with books. I am most proud of my medals in public speaking, singing and debates. They make me feel like I did something right in school and college. I have this huge collection of books which I hope only gets bigger with time. Mom always tells me to stop buying books, but as writer I always feel I can never have enough. I just dont know where the next inspiration is going to come from. I read Anne Frank;s diary and wrote my personal favourite poem- At Auschwitz. To me that poem marks the beginning of a certain maturity and clarity of thought which I feel was missing for so long. 

I love baking and home is one place where I have 3 other willing tasters. Of course, its been ages since I made a cake from scratch, but I remember it being worth all the trouble.. For me of late, I turn to the other woman who has made baking a cake as easy as 1-2-3 and her name is Betty Crocker. I prefer her range of cake mixes to Pillsbury and every other brand under the sun. Trust me I have tried many of them too. Somehow Betty's mixes really give you a cake that's not just fluffy and smells great, but one that is really moist and which melts in the mouth. Of course I come from a family that loves food. Which also means that every time I make something yummy, I pay the price in a way. Mom tells me that one of my secret vendetta is to make it impossible for her to lose any weight at all. I dont deny that our war of who loses more weight has been going on for so long now, but honestly, I love feeding people and it makes me really sad when they dont eat what I have laboured to make. 

So, on the list are more specials of mine- chicken cheese pie, a cheese cake dessert, home made pizza and maybe a payasam.which dad loves...In a way, getting burnt in the heat makes me smile... its always good to be home.. 

Some people are born to be passengers- Like Me!!

So alright. Here's a terrible truth. One that I always try my best to run away from. I cant drive. There. No I mean it, I really cannot drive for my life. If ever I am faced with a situation where I have a car and a set of keys, either the car wont move at all or the mortality rate in my lane will be huge. Being in Singapore, these guys mean business. For the smallest of crimes, you are looking at a few dozen lashes of the cane and a few years in jail. That strategy works I tell you. The crime rate is quite low in the city and a plan to build a new jail was canceled. Why? Simply because the present jail isn't quite filled up at all. :-O


Back to my story. Dont even think of suggesting that I take up driving classes because I have already put my terrible skills to the road in two separate cities already!! I thought as a student in Hyderabad that going for driving classes would be great. Well now when I look back I realize how funny they were actually. Since students all over the world are broke, and I am no exception, I joined a crash course in driving classes. What a mistake!! Not only was my knowledge half- baked by the end of it, but it didn't quite give me the confidence I was looking for. Even more funnier was my poor instructor who was really a sweet guy. He didnt know English or Hindi and I for one didn't know Telugu. Here's how our conversation usually went


( Imagine am driving the already battered up car, which has barely any space for big sized me)


Me- 'I really must go faster on this. Why are we going so slow?'

( Thats when I almost bang an old man with a bullock cart)


Instructor- ' Hulloooo. HULLOOO'.


( Now, I'm a very social person. Only thing is I couldn't figure out why my sir wanted me to say hello  just when I almost hit somebody!)


Me- ' Hello? Sir why are we saying hello now?'


Instructor- ' Hullooo, HULLOO'.


Me- ' Helloo HELLOO' ( in a loud voice just in case sir thinks am not social)


Instructor- ' Shloww Shloowww. Hulloooo '. 


( Thats' when it hit me. The Telugu word for slow is Hullo. Can you imagine how much it made me laugh? My poor sir was staring at me and then back at his reflection, probably wondering what sins he committed in this birth to get a crack student like me!)


Me laughing for a full 5 minutes gave way to another conversation that followed. Just when I was about to take a sharp turn my instructor said-


Instructor- ' Nakku'. 


( If you know Malayalam, you'd realise that in my language, the word Nakku simply means to lick. Now can you blame me for getting all confused??'


Me- ' Nakku? Whaa? Whats that supposed to mean?'


Instructor- ' No. No...'


Me- ' Ok dont tell me now, but atleast tell me tomorrow.'


Instructor- ' No..No...  no drive fast, drive hullo.'


I finally had it figured that Nukku simply means no. Can I be blamed for my lack of driving skills but definite presence of being able to see the funny side of most things in life?


You're probably wondering what happened at the second driving course I attended. Now that's a story for another blog entry. Keep reading...

A promise all over again


I recently revamped my blog, added a few gadgets here and there, changed the color of the layout from a leafy green to the colors that you see now. Changing such small things actually has such a big impact on how I write, when I write and even what I write. There are some days when I feel like dressing up like am going for a funeral, and on other days I dress up like a rainbow at home. My hubby has given up. Immaculate dresser that he is, he cant figure out why I can be more careful about things like that! Truth is, as a writer I have now come to believe that the lack of a dressing sense is almost EXPECTED from me, and it will be forgiven. After all, don't people usually assume that a  writer isn't exactly like other Normal people?? I know a number who do. 


So am working against the clock. Again. I don't want to be stuck with my laptop the whole time am there in Cochin, so am trying hard to finish off some current projects. I remember a time when I would weep because there wasnt even one single project around and nobody even knew I existed. By God's grace, at least that has changed. I now have clients who ask specifically for me, and who are willing to wait till my work schedule clears up a bit. One client is patiently waiting for me to go home and get back, so that we can begin work on his project. I feel so guilty I cant tell you how much.. But then again, with a toddler who is endlessly testing my patience, I have to make a sacrifice somewhere..


On the cooking front- I recently made some home made custard with a blueberry compote. I am not even sure if you get things like blueberry back in India, and I really want to make use of the fact that you get them in plenty here. If you like custard, chuck out the ready made powder that you get which needs to be added to milk and then cooked. Make it from scratch. Trust me, its worth it. The custard tastes different, has a silky texture to it and is just divine. In the end my trifle pudding wasnt exactly the kid you may be used to. I put one layer of cake, which was in my shelf for weeks, topped that with a huge layer of custard and then blueberry compote ( blueberry+water+sugar) on top as a kind of sweet dressing.  Whats the point if you cant play around a but and improvise somebody else's recipe?


So I begin this month with another promise- one that I have made so many many times before. That I will write my blog more often. Not because I have a huge following or something, but just to keep in touch with the real me and my thoughts. These days, its easy to forget yourself..