Here and there and EVERYwhere!

I ought to be finishing a client's project at this moment, but I couldn't resist taking a break and writing a new post. It's been ages since I wrote a new post and I blame that squarely on the number of projects that I have been working on since Jan. Being a freelance writer, of course there are plenty of times when you really want to be part of a project and you get rejected right at the start. Not a great feeling so when you DO get chosen for a project, it's such a wonderful high! I've been so busy that I didn't even get much time to catch up on reading and you know how I cannot live without books. I'm hoping I'll be able to make some time on March 18 to attend a book fair where everything will be sold at a major discount of 80%. Of course, at the rate at which I'm going, I'll probably take 2 years to get through my current lot of books, but stocking up for a rainy day never hurt anyone!

I finally made my list of resolutions. And unfortunately, I could not stick to just a few. By the time I had written down whatever I wanted to set right this year, my list numbered more than 10 resolutions. These days I have to remind myself to look my list every day so that I remember them. The main motto for this year is 'As you think, so you become.' Quite powerful and it sums up what a lot of preachers and gurus take hours to explain. One of the resolutions for this year is to pay more attention to myself physically and emotionally. When you're a woman who juggles so many roles, you tend to give so much of yourself to others that you feel burned out at the end of the day. Last year, I knew I had done so many things for my family but what had I done for myself? Not much which is why I wasn't able to shake off a deep feeling of unsatisfaction. This year I want to put in that effort to make myself happier and not to forget taking care of myself. So these days when I want to buy myself a handbag I do it without mentally calculating how much lesser my bank account figure will be. I have also started hitting the gym regularly. I long gave up the desire to lose weight and instead decided to focus on getting fit. Plenty of diseases run in my family and I want to make sure that I can healthy a few more years without succumbing to any of them. I actually began to enjoy working out because it felt that I was doing something for myself again!

The next thing I've started doing again is baking. I love baking and I regret not having explored this love of mine a bit more. I love baking a cake more than eating it myself. And for years I've wanted to buy one of those hand mixers that whisk your batter into a creamy texture. I finally did and now I use any excuse to make a cake just so that I get to use it. I also royally overlook the instructions that clearly say to whisk for only 2 minutes. I let it slip into 5 because it feels like I'm creating rippled cream that looks divine. Hubby says I'm responsible for his weight gain but what the heck, anything to use my darling hand mixer. I love it even more because it didn't cost the earth like I thought it would! So today after am done with the project, am going to try making my first blueberry cake. Last time I checked my little purple dearies were looking mightily ignored in the fridge. Now they no longer will be! and who can resist a little bit of cake batter. Why is cake batter so much more yummier than a cake? Sigh..I'll never know!

Kiddo is down with another awful viral flu which is getting all 3 of us down. Hopefully he will get back to his naughty healthy self in  a few days but for now, it's the thought of yummy baking that's keeping me going.

Till next time!

The kids seriously are having the last laugh!

I've learnt a terrible truth the hard way- that as I get older the next generation is getting smarter and smarter in ways that I just cannot keep up with. If I thought I was the boss of this house ( atleast, isn't that what we women like to think) all such illusions have run away after the entry of Junior John. These days, this ageing mother humbly takes orders from a 2 year old. So if I tell my kid that I have pain in my hand, he comes over, whacks me and says ' MY hand painu OK?????' And as if the way he says 'OK' wasn't already  intimidating enough, he likes to repeat it again, only this time with more emphasis! So rule number one in this house- only kiddo is allowed to express pain of any kind and as a reward even gets a free massage from his poor mother who is the actual victim. :-(

So, while I was moping about the fact that I have missed the final episodes of Masterchef USA, Star World enlivens my dismal mood with trailers of the all new American Idol and Glee Season 2 which are slated to entertain me this month. Since I had nothing better to do, I thought I'd bring a smile of happiness to the brains behind Junior Masterchef Australia, because let's face it- who really wants to see kids cook? (not when there's an even more entertaining program where a dumb blonde and a dumb guy have a very important global  decision to make- who should they eventually marry from 25 suitors? Don't believe me? Then simply watch the Bachelor and the Bachelorette anytime you feel like laughing at the ridiculous shows people take great pains to participate in!) Anyways, back to the subject. So like I said, kids being confident enough to cook on tv must have a few laughs up its sleeve. But as I realised the hard way, the joke was completely on me!

These kids were simply phenomenal when it came to cooking anything! Their desserts were so top class that my eyes couldn't believe it. Even more confusing was the way the kids so easily dished up French cuisine,  made a gooey choco lava cake perfectly gooey and the confidence with which they pronounced seriously hard words. Oh I forgot, why should that be a surprise? After all most of them have been cooking since the age of four!

 They knew how to work with more difficult ingredients like fish and could even tell parsley apart from coriander ( at 28, I still confuse one for the other). As if, it wasn't humiliating enough to see kids as young as 8 years of age cooking up a storm and then displaying it so beautifully; I was even compelled to shed a tear when 6 kids were eliminated from the competition. This cruel cruel world! When asked why they liked cooking, one kid replied ' I find it very relaxing. It really helps calm me down.' I was thinking eh? Ah just wait sweetie, wait till you're married and you're doing it every day of your life! I liked the reply a very cheeky kid gave instead ' I like cooking because I get to eat the dish at the end.' Now there's a kid after my own heart. I knew that hogging wasn't a talent that ended with my generation!

So I know how my mum feels whenever my kid sister asks her something perfectly out of the way which leaves my poor mum scratching her head in confusion.  (like 'Mum did you hear Alicia Key's last song or do you know who Fergie is- to which dear mum confidently replied' Yes, she is the Duchess of York'.)  ' Oh, you're soo last century ma' is my sister's usual diagnosis or ' Mum, you are so outdated!'. But my mum isn't one to give up a fight. She screams' Don't you dare say am outdated. Did you see that polka dots are back in fashion? Did you know that polka dots were in fashion in the 60's and I used to only wear such nice fashionable clothes?' So while Nikki is royally laughing at mum's outburst ( I mean seriously how are Fergie and polka dots related??), I took a step back and was just analysing the situation.

 Someday there could be a serious role reversal where my kid asks me some bizarre question and because I don't want him to think that his mother is only a bookworm (hell, he'll think that anyways!!), I can see myself justifying my lack of knowledge about all things yo and cool, too. And if he dares enter my kitchen and cooks up a feast all by himself at the humble age of 8, I think I'll probably need  a psychiatrist then. I think it's time I sat down and became more in tune with what the next generation is already upto. And if that includes buying an I Pad and an I Phone, then I really don't mind. But if it involves sitting through teenage flicks like Twilight then maybe a little ignorance isn't such a bad thing after all!

My Little Boss at Home

I took a good look at my little boy the other day and realised with a pang that he was growing up so fast. What is it about motherhood, that you long for your child to become more independent and give you some breathing space, and when he does just that; you begin to long for him to 'need' you again. Personally, I was the happiest person in the house when I enrolled him in day care, simply because I was near exploding point myself what with the writing for clients, cooking, cleaning and a 100 other things that just have to get done. On top of that, the pressure cooker would be singing its own tune, a Barney video would be switched on the whole day, I discovered the existence of a highly irritating train called Thomas( why my kid adores him, I don't know) and I even began to hum the theme songs of all his favourite cartoons! That's when I decided that enough was enough and it was high time I got some  un Barney infested silence to listen to now and then.

Here are a few star sentences he now says around the house. Keep in mind that he is  a firm believer in the hippie tradition of addressing his parents purely on first name basis.-


- Shanjoo are you ok? ( no darling, most of the times am not!)
- Mama, is it painu? ( Once he saw me rubbing sunscreen on my arms and assumed I was in pain; the little sweetehart)

- Can you see this? ( He said this sentences just once)
- I don't wan it. ( This is said atleast 5 times during meal times and milk drinking sessions, every single day)
- I wan....( Kiddo always wan's a hundred different things everyday and insists he gets it pronto, unless I want to be punished with my ears ringing with his screaming)
- Hmm, its a tasty snack..( my kid is a true connoisseur of good food. You should hear him slurp and make loud sounds when he likes something he eats.. I sometimes think I too should take a page from his book and loudly show my appreciation of good food in a non verbal way)
- Oh-oh, ------ fell down. Baby is crying.. Mama, doggy is boiken.

I like the fact that my kid is so certain of his own individuality. He insists on having his own fork, spoon and plate, and no he doesn't want the bib because Shanjoo isn't wearing one. If we were to, then he MAY consider doing the same! He even plonks himself on the sofa and screams- MY chair, MY doggy, MY mama.

If you thought that kids were all about sweetness and honey and all that, let me tell you how wrong you are. They are by far much more intelligent, smarter and manipulative than we give them credit for. I've understood that they play us in their own way and allow us to think that we have the last say! For instance, when correcting kiddo and instructing him on behavior that is deemed proper by society; he will suddenly develop a 'painu' in his hand, toe or head. Concerned mother hen that I'am I used to fuss over his imaginary pain and completely forget what the conversation was about. And all the while, my little kid is smiling away to glory- in the end acting skills have clearly overshadowed crazy mum's lecture. I grew wise to his ways when I realised what was happening. And for a while, kiddo reluctantly subjected himself to my wisdom and mannerisms filled lectures again. Till he hit upon idea number 2.

And idea number 2 is a clear super-champion in comparison to tactic no , because he plays on something I have in excess- emotion! Just before he gets a dose or after getting one, he comes running and says- ' Mama, hug.' So while I'm trying to maintain my angry face, needless to say, it gets completely wiped out whenever I feel his small arms tightly hug my legs. And so ladies and gentlemen, I completely give in and I humbly state that I'm unable to do any further disciplining after that. I don't know if there's anything that gets to your heart directly the way a child's hug and kiss do. You really need to have a heart of stone, if that one innocent move doesn't melt you. I know it does me, and I have no clue for how many years, the hugs are going to keep coming; so it makes sense to enjoy them now.

I I have of course planned my revenge- hopefully kid no 2 will be a daughter who will have my crazy curls, my utterly unruly behaviour, will have stockpiles of confidence combined with stubborness and in other words- be a fantastic replica of her mother!!! But like a friend warned me- ' Don't plan so much. You may have another son instead.' That was enough for me to put all my enticing dreams back in the box and shut the lid. :-(

Anyways.. This blog post was supposed to be about my little guy.... Like any other parent, I have so many wants for him. And I'm learning another painful essential about parenthood- letting go one bit at a time. So, although I dread the day already when my kid will get even more independent and learn how to make an omelette by myself; I love him with a firm protective love that only a mother can give and with the hope that he'll always have a hug for me..

Birthdays and the Best Part- Presents!!!!

I remember when I was a kid; I would have a birthday party each year. In fact to me, that was the only good thing about growing a year older- a party which meant I was likely to get many good presents. The present a friend got me was enough to make or break a friendship! I remember telling one of my class-mates who got me a set of 6 cocktail glasses ( hardly a gift that a 10 year old can play with) on my birthday that we weren't friends anymore because of the sort of gift she gave me. Then there was this other classmate who I didn't like but who scored huge brownie points in my book because she got me not one but TWO presents neatly wrapped together. A person who gives such nice gifts must be a very good friend to have, so the classmate who I rarely spoke to got upgraded to a new 'friend' status. Very mature I know.

Anyways, as luck would have it; by the time we came back to India my parents decided that I was all grown up now and there was no need for parties. Of course, I tried to argue with them saying that nobody is ever too old for a party, but I think they had mentally given up on planning such a stressful event. My sister seems to have done a lot better in that department. Skillful mediator and planner that she is, she still manages to get not just one but two presents from each parent every year. Sometimes I think she teaches better lessons in negotiation and self-marketing than 2 years of MBA did!!

So, this year as I was fiddling around with my list and wondering what to get myself; I decided that I would be my own fairy and make a childhood wish come true. Instead of having to choose one gift like an adult, why not gift myself a few things I love a lot? So, I gifted myself 3 bags, 10 books which were a mix of fiction and non-fiction as well as a whole goodie bag of beauty products from Body Shop.  So, birthday treat to self is a huge success and birthday girl is thrilled!!

Every year, there's one other person who dreads my birthday specifically for selfish reasons of accelerated ageing, just like me. That's my mom. Before she can wish me on my birthday; my mom will crib about how ME growing a year older means that SHE is getting older and ME getting closer to 30 means that SHE is getting closer to now owning a head full of white hair! This year however, I reminded her that she was now a grand mother and that meant she was already old. I know; very pathetic of me but then again I'm battling my own hallucinations about turning 30, all by myself. I mean I have a number of hasn'ts, doesn'ts and did-nots in my list such as ' still doesn't have Julia Robert's figure' or ' hasn't travelled the world yet' or even ' Did not get back to working at a day job'. So, I think it's wiser that mom faces up to the fact that a head full of white hair is just around the corner, while I try cajoling my mind into believing that 30 a'int all that bad. I mean, after that, 40, 50, 60 and maybe 70 await????

On Getting Inked

What a relief to be back in a familiar place that I know and love. If you must know, it’s only 4:30 am on a Saturday morning and I have broken my own rule of not getting up till its 9:00 am. The very thought of putting ideas and meanderings to words made my muse very excited. And, so I thought to myself, ‘What the heck’ll? If you are itching to write, then it’s time to wake up sleepy Dell too.’ [In case you’re wondering what the word ‘ Heck’ll’ means and you are very keen on looking it up in the dictionary, seriously don’t bother because this word is nothing more than a mere production of my ever hyper imagination. J And my sister made a teeny weeny contribution too. We couldn’t decide if we liked the phrase What the hell or What the heck, better. Spoilt brats that we are, we then decided to get the best of both worlds by simply combining both!]

Anyways..Where was I? Right- about to begin on the subject of tattoos. So, recently two pals of mine got individual tattoos done on their arms- one got the king of hearts and the other got a very serene outline of the Buddha; which led to another event-

No 1- That set me thinking on what I would like my tattoo to look like. And yes, although, the mere sight of the tattoo instruments are enough to make me want to cry; if I could survive a caesarean operation (although I must be fair to my doc and truthfully say that I was given anaesthesia. Point to note here is that, once you give birth; any other episode involving pain mostly always fades away in comparison.) So, the only other option is to do what a certain Angelina Jolie did. She merely walked into a tattoo parlour blissfully sloshed, dropped her pants and woke up the next day with a tattoo of a funny dragon on her hip. ‘Funny’ she calls her dragon in her own words because apparently it has a blue tongue. Fear not, we can always ask Brad to confirm.

So when I read about that incident; I mentally switched places with Ms Jolie and wondered what would happen if I had done the same. Imagine me walking into a tattoo parlour completely drunk, dropping my pants and then telling a biceped tattoo artist- ‘Eye vud laik eeyu tu lhet eyourr emaijeenashun go viiiiild (I would like you to let your imagination go wild).’ Dear readers, since I’m not Ms Jolie and I have anything but a wild reputation preceding me; I can imagine waking up next day having spent the night on the pavement outside and most likely finding the words- ‘ Don’t come back again’ or ‘ Warning- can cause blindness’ tattooed on my hip instead!!

But seriously! When I was in college, I actually used to talk about getting a full length dragon tattooed on my leg. Thank goodness, I was too chicken to actually go ahead with it. A few caesarean stitches are painful enough, do I really want to wake up to a dragon breathing fire, every single day? A tattoo is something that ought to be personal and attractive at the same time. Why does Ms Jolie have mantras tattooed on her skin? I have always wondered if she reads aloud from them during meditation, perhaps? (writer scratches head)

I would love to get a tattoo of my muse. Only problem being that I still haven’t figured what she looks like. I mean, I know she is a figment of my imagination and all, but I am still in the editing mode with regard to her final features. I definitely want her to be a fairy, with nice big wings, maybe holding a long feather in her hand and writing in a book? Should she be sitting, kneeling or sitting on a crescent the way the Dreamworks Animation kid does? Then again, maybe I better make her a half-angel. BUT, I would really like another tattoo of a little cherub, a pierced heart and maybe even a small orangutan. See, that’s just the problem. I like so many images and if tattooing wasn’t such a painful procedure, I might have even gotten small tattoos done of my contact lenses and my darling Dell laptop, too!! After all, I can’t get through a day without them.. So many things that are dear to me.

I have actually stopped being judgemental about people who walk around with tattoo covered bodies. Seriously, how do you decide what you like best and settle on just one tattoo to live with for life? It’s like somebody said- ‘My body is a temple of art.’  Sure, WHATEVER. So, who knows, someday I may actually show some guts and stubbornness and actually get a tattoo done (probably after driving the artist insane with my inability to decide what I want) . But then what if the tattoo actually makes my body a ruin of art??