In pursuit of a Prince (Chapter 1)

Ever since she could remember, she always figured her husband would be like one of those guys you see in American movies. Charming, suave, well spoken, well groomed, tall. Handsome wasn’t necessarily on the list but well-groomed, well-spoken and charming trumps good looking any day. She’d daydream about him brewing coffee in the morning; making breakfast on weekends, even cooking on weekdays sometimes. An Indian girl’s American dream! Oh wow! More than anything else, it was the cooking she really looked forward to. It wasn’t as if she was a bad cook or an inexperienced one, quite the contrary but she just liked the idea of being cooked for. A dream of sorts for her, we could say. So she dreamed and dreamed and dreamed about her perfect man and his amazing cooking skills or atleast the idea of him. After all, a girl can dream, can’t she?

As it is in all Indian households, when she was old enough (atleast by their perception) to get married, her parents began looking for alliances. They weren’t closed minded people, oh no they most certainly were not! They, in fact kept asking her if she had a special someone in her life. She kept responding “No yet”. She said she was waiting..waiting for ‘The One’. She told them that she wasn’t going to go looking for him but she would sit back and let him find her. She was convinced that match making activities and online marriage portals wont lead her to him. He was going to carve the path that would lead to her. She had convinced herself that this was how it was meant to be. But you can’t really explain concepts such as these to Indian parents, can you? So what do you do? You give in and you hope that they inadvertently end up creating the bridge that will lead Him to find you.

Being caring and loving parents that they were they listened to her entire monologue on finding The One. They contemplated and subsequently confirmed that she did in fact want to get married, but her reassurances just confused them more. But she said, she wanted somebody who could cook. Parents being parents, they didn’t think it was as critical a criterion while selecting a possible husband for their precious darling. And I mean come on! What are you even supposed to say? “Our daughter won’t marry you unless you cook?” That would just sound like our daughter can’t cook. People will just think we didn’t teach her anything. She will come across as spoilt. We can’t risk that! Oh no no no!

So they searched and they met and they introduced their darling to several lovely boys, but she didn’t show too much interest. She returned from each meeting with a new deal breaker every time. The first one was too obsessed with his work; the next one was too obsessed with his looks. The third one seemed to love boys more than girls, and the fourth one smelt funny. The fifth, sixth and seventh were either too educated, too laidback or still connected to his parents with an umbilical cord of sorts. No! No! No! This was not working and she did not want to do it anymore. None of them were right and none of them were Mr.Right. The one she was looking for was just lost, needle in a haystack…you think? Her parents thought it best for her to find somebody on her own. Disappointment turned into sadness and soon depression, and bordered on thoughts like maybe she was being way too picky than was acceptable, maybe she didn’t know what it meant to recognize somebody for their inner beauty? Maybe she didn’t even know what went into deciding what was right for her in terms of a partner? Nobody trained her on the art of selecting a life partner, so how could she possibly be expected to know? There needs to be a rule book on things like this!! Ugh..!! But even amongst all these depressing thoughts, there was one underlining feeling, actually more of a faith now that you think of it. Faith that made her believe, that she was going to find him. He’s literally right around the corner, and when she finally meets him, she’ll recognize him for who he is: The One.

To be continued…

 

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My mommy-My hero

So, I realise I haven’t blogged in a while but here’s the thing, with work and a commute of over 2 hours (everyday- ONE WAY) and a complete home to take care of (including cooking) with no help whatsoever, can be tough!!! phewwww…! 🙂

And nothing gets better when on top of it all you have the flu. Your nose feels like its gonna fall off because it’s so raw from the constant wiping. You feel like your body is heavier than lead and you have a 2 year pounding on a drum inside your head. Uggggghhh!!!

Falling sick is the worst thing that can happen to anybody, especially me. Why? you ask? I guess it’s because I can’t feel as sorry for anybody else as I do for myself now, can I? 🙂

I was so unwell last week that I could barely get out of bed. But, my husband dropped me off at my mommy’s for some serious TLC.

Whether you are 5 years old or 50…. I honestly think that whenever you are sick all you can think of is your mom.

I don’t know about anybody else, but whenever I am sick I crave for my mother’s hands, stroking my hair like she used to whenever I used to fall sick as a child. My mom pouring me a hot bowl of soup, fluffing my pillows, tucking me in…. Aaah! The works. 🙂

A mother’s love is a mother’s love and nothing can stand up to it, not even you-oh flu virus..!

When I was younger, I used to fake being sick on school days (as I am sure everybody has done so when they were children). Atleast I used to try. My mom would never buy into my bluff and would always say “go to school, and if you start feeling sick, come back home”. Disappointing as it was, I’d still go to school because you see my true motive was not to avoid school (although that was an added bonus) it was to get my mom to stay home with me. 🙂
And funny as it is ironic, I know for a fact, that’s exactly what I’ll be saying to my kids when they try to fake being sick on school days 🙂

It wasn’t the “quality time” we would spend together, it was just the idea of knowing she is at home because between my teenaged sister and me and my dad (who, by the way my mother claims, was no less than a 5 year old child, when at home) and a full time job, I used to think my mom doesn’t have any time dedicated especially to me. But I realise now how much time she actually did dedicate to me. She took years off from a full time career to be with me, she tucked me into bed every night, said my prayers with me, made me delicious food whenever I wanted it, irrespective of how tired she was, and how she sacrificed sleep, food, comfort, basically everything to sit next to me when I was in the hospital for an appendectomy.
She was unwell herself but she did not move from my bedside. She wouldn’t eat but she would make sure I am well fed, she wouldn’t sleep but she would make sure I got several hours of sleep.
Even today, she manages to take care of me even though we don’t live together anymore. I have a home of my own now and I am the “go to for anything” person in my house, I am the one who “takes care of everybody” but my mommy, still takes care of me.

My husband and I continue to be amazed and surprised at the amount of energy, enthusiasm and quiet strength that lies within her.

We appreciate you Mom, we love you and we inspire to be like you-more and more each day- My mommy, my hero! 🙂

Have you thought of all the things your mother has done for you in the past? Or continues to do even today?

Take some time off, call your mom and tell her you love her. She may know it, but would be so nice for her to hear it, out of the blue, randomly, because she did and she does all that she does for you because of those 3 words.

Thanks for reading everybody, and don’t forget to tell your mom, how much you love her. That’s what I do, everyday! 🙂