Parenthood etc.

Being a parent is a feeling that absolutely cannot be put into words. It is easy and hard- all at the same time. You swing between exhaustion and elation so often that eventually the lines start to blur. But it’s awesome!

Before I became pregnant, my husband and I constantly questioned our ability to give up our life as it was, at the time. We read all the blogs we could, spoke to as many friends (who were parents) as we could and tried to figure out a pattern. There is not one single kind of parent or parenthood experience out there. For the most part I would categorize them into these 5:

  • The complainer: The parent who constantly complains of how their life has changed after a baby. Who talks only in past tense, and tries to live life vicariously through you.
  • The Struggler: The parent who will give rise to every hidden OCD instinct you may have. Constantly struggling to keep it together, this parent seems like they are on the brink of a breakdown and seriously need to unwind.
  • The Adventurer: The parent who thinks all the stuff people talk about on Baby center is common & old school. This parent is the pioneer of all things new age from advocating formula feeding against breast feeding to engaging in infant yoga to naming their child “Mango”, this parent is as unconventional as can get.
  • The Stickler: The parent who’d prefer death over doing the opposite of “What to expect, when you’re expecting” says. This parent is constantly researching, can possibly give up showering in favor of reading the 5000-word essay on breast feeding frequencies. This parent is likely to have a panic attack if something goes out plan, or the way it’s referred to in India- if they are asked a question outside of the syllabus.
  • The gangsta: The parent who reads all the information, does all the research, tries the baby yoga, struggles occasionally, but for the most part just goes with instinct, good sense and wings it sometimes. This parent knows that life does not stop because they had a baby, accepts that it’s going to be difficult at times but also knows that there is no bigger joy. This is the parent that knows for a fact that in the end, you gotta do what you gotta do. Basically, me! 🙂 Nah! Just Kidding. I try though!

Just like each child is different, so is each parent, and there is no way to decide which is better than which. Just because somebody is a complainer, doesn’t mean they are taking care of their baby any less than I am. In fact, they are probably doing a much better job. But it’s the constant complaining that undermines all that effort.

When I was pregnant a very dear friend (sort of an older brother really, and the biggest gangsta dad that I know) told my husband and I that those who complain about babies deterring them from “living” their lives, probably weren’t really living their lives the way they wanted to, in the first place- True Story SB! He told us the key was in  adopting some new stuff and letting go of some old stuff.

Till we had the baby, this was just another piece of advice. The first time we went out after the baby, this Became a reality. We realized very quickly that life doesn’t stop because you had a baby. It takes on a new direction. You have new purpose, renewed energy and new plans.

There is no doubt in my mind, that when you have a baby, there are times where you will have to give things up, your needs may be on the backburner to accommodate those of your baby and maybe, just maybe you’ll have days when there is no peace.

But when your baby smiles at you for the first time, rolls over, or starts crawling, you know that everything was worth it just so you can be here in this moment.

The hospital in which my baby was born is an hour+ away from my house. It’s the best in my city and we made the trip every 3-4 weeks in the beginning and now every 7-8weeks for her vaccinations and checkups. Every time we meet my daughter’s pediatrician, he asks us to talk about her. I give him all the updates, talk of her achievements, milestone progress and discuss whatever concerns we have. At the end of it all when he says, “You’re doing a fantastic job, guys”, there is no bigger award in the world!

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Good Enough

I used to dream that we’d be a family,

Once again, But then I was faced with reality

You weren’t there by my side,

and my life ain’t nothing but a tragedy.

 

I used to dream that I’d be whole again

But how can that happen in this world of pain,

How can I rise above it all?

When I ain’t got the strength to even break my fall?

 

I go to bed every night, feeling the same way

I’m tired with myself and just how I behave

When there ain’t no spark, how can I rage a fire?

Everytime I look in the mirror, I see a liar

 

I used to think nothing could ever touch me,

That your protection would always cushion me

But my naivete came at a price,

Coz life made me pay a fee.

 

Every promise said that, “you got me”

And Every hug meant that we’ll always be

Together, that makes us strong

But twin you just pushed me back and broke free

 

What do I gotta do to get your love?

I keep trying but you always shove

Me away and I know I should learn

But all you ever do is watch me burn

 

I’ve paid all my dues, gave away all my stuff

Moved across the world for a chance to earn your love

We were born together, heart, body & soul

How do I get you back? How can I be good enough?

 

Sibling rivalry and fallouts are a serious problem in this day & age. I recently witnessed one of the worst sibling fallouts I could have ever imagine and my heart goes out to the twins who were born together but now their life choices have pulled them apart. I’m praying for them and their situation brought my words to life. I hope they reconcile soon.

 

xx

The Love of my life

As opposed to what everybody assumes, my husband isn’t the love of my life. He knows this; we talk of it often but the truth is the truth and there’s no denying it.

Without revealing too much about my one true love, it’s pertinent that I tell you what makes him so special and what he truly means to me. He’s never going to read this and he knows I love him but the extent? I doubt he will ever understand.

Very few people know that we used to live together at one point: He & I and it was the best thing ever. I remember so many drives home from work when I’d invariably be having a bad day but just the thought of seeing him would cheer me up. Coming home, seeing him, I’d just light up and my happiness knew no bounds.

Our midnight drives, coffee runs and ice cream hunts: some amazing moments spent with him. He is the most avid listener I have ever come across. He never complained when I was in a bad mood, and as a matter of fact, he was never in a bad mood himself. One of the best things about him though, he was always so supportive. He never threw a tantrum and never did he ever get angry at me.

We had our moments of disagreement, I won’t lie. He often did things that I just could not deal with and many a times even failed to understand. I’d try to reason with him but he’d become this stone cold wall with no reaction, no justification and never a word of defence. His looking down was most certainly a sign of guilt that was near well impossible to miss.

He is a ladies man! Always has been, always will be. I never really see him deny it nor make any effort to hide it. I mean he & I would be walking alongside each other and he’d just leave me to walk up to some lady across the way. Unabashed and super chill! If that doesn’t surprise you, what will? I mean when he was with me, I was his be all and end all! But outside our home, he didn’t carry the same sentiment. You know he’d never eat anything unless I served it to him. He wouldn’t take care of himself, instead he’d wait for me to take care of him. Ask him why!

Other than the near philandering ways I’d say he was perfect! When he and I separated it was one of the worst things to have happened. I was inconsolable and I cried like a baby. It wasn’t possible for us to live together anymore due to circumstances that led to that moment but I knew my life would never been the same. You know when you’ve experienced that kind of love, nothing can ever compare.

I put him out of my mind for a while. Moved on, did things to keep busy. Met new people, made friends, travelled, but he was always there, in the back of my mind. He is still close to my family so he’d pop up in every family picture and somebody or the other always had their arm around him. I used to miss him more than words can say and Mukul could see my pain. There wasn’t much we could do about it but I began to feel that my life had lost the colour it needed.

And then, a few months ago, Mukul asked me if I’d like to bring him back into my life. I couldn’t deny its what I had been wanting to do myself but was unsure if Mukul was ready for it. But he was supportive and encouraging and just like that he was back! My friend, my love, the ruler of my heart, my Buddy!

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Isn’t he the cutest?

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When we moved to Bangalore, we had to leave him back home in Delhi with our parents because we couldn’t take care of him alone, but he’s finally moved in with us and I couldn’t be happier. He makes everything better! Our lives, our health, our sense of peace and calmness…everything seems so great! A Blessing and a Gift and unending pool of love, this munchkin is everything and more that I could ask for, and his name is Buddy!

xoxo

 

 

 

The secret ingredient

When I was 15, I never imagined living away from my parents. I wanted to, but I didn’t think it would ever happen. When I turned 17 my parents sent me away to university and I couldn’t have been more greatful. It was freedom the kind I’d craved and it meant making my own decisions and it also meant a ‘HUGE’ bump in pocket money!!!  😮

In university, I learnt to wash my own clothes after I put all my clothes together in the washing machine and all the colors bled onto one another. I learnt how to make my own bed because, the lack of our housekeeper Roopa meant I’d come back to my dorm after classes to be greeted with a messy bed and a wet towel on top of my comforter. Also, learnt that I need to put my towel out on the line to dry if I didn’t want it to be smelly & gross & eventually grow mould. I learnt how to share a bathroom and keep all of my junk together in little bags as opposed to my dressing table back home, which if I have to be really honest with you, was my dumping ground for the wet towel I mentioned earlier.

But, the most important thing I learnt in University (besides the extremely expensive education my parents paid for) was how to cook. I mean I always knew how to cook, I mean who doesn’t? It’s easy to learn the technicalities, follow recipes available in books and online but you’re never quite sure if it turned out exactly like the pictures are you? It took me a while to bridge the gap between following instructions and the food actually tasting good.

Before I came to Uni my mom taught me how to put things together, no doubt about it. She was trying to teach me how to cook but I felt no need or interest in learning. But I soon developed the need to learn how to cook and that eventually became a point of interest, especially when I moved out of my hostel and into a private apartment building. A best friend I made in college taught me nuances, a few things to add or delete from some basic recipes and things started looking up. With every trip back home I took an active interest in what my mom was cooking, and she always made it a point to cook my favourite things. I’d go back to college & my shared apartment and always try out what I learnt, and if I must say so myself things I made turned out to be so great. Everybody loved it, but every morsel I put in my mouth tasted so so different from what my mom made. Why? How? I always seemed so confused about it. I’d cook the same things for my mom and she couldn’t find anything wrong with them either but I could.

I continued my cooking journey even after college and kept dazzling my friends (they were quite surprised that I knew how to turn on the gas, let alone cook) and my mother but I knew in my heart it was always missing something. Some years later when I got married I learnt some great things from my mother- in- law (also a great cook). I recreated those in her absence and for her approval as well and although she gave me a A+ it just wasn’t…

When Mukul & I got a place of our own I couldn’t get a cook for sometime so I took it upon myself to cook and with every vegetable I chopped, every pot I stirred, every dish I prepared, every time I plated it and served it I knew what I’d missed. Every bite Mukul would take and every time he’d open his eyes wider and say “mmmmm”, I’d take a step closer to acknowledging what gave my mother’s cooking that extra taste. Every time I cook his favourite meal and when he clears the dishes, he makes it a point to give me an extra few kisses and it always makes me smile and I finally know the secret ingredient..Love

If you cook, then you’ll know that when you’re in a good mood, the food that you make is always tasty, however small or large a portion it is. But when you’re in a foul mood things never tend to work out. My mother once told me that the key to making sure I cook good food is to remember to dump all of my stress, my sorrow & my grief before entering the kitchen. She told me that the food that I make (or anybody who cooks for more than themselves actually) not only feeds me but somebody else as well and I have to make sure I always add that extra ingredient: Love. Because that’s what I want in the bellies of my family & friends instead of all my life’s worries.

I have stood by this thought and I strongly endorse it too. Whenever Mukul & I fight we get take out or we pause the fight and go out. Another great idea for all you couples out there but that is another story for another time. For now I leave you with a little something on love: ” The only thing we never get enough of is love; and the only thing we never give enough of is love.” – Henry Miller

xoxo

 

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…

 

The bond that never was..

MotherDaughter

The apple of her eye, her precious little gem

Her sweet cherry pie, her adorable son

Her life’s purpose, Her pride and joy

Her inflated ego, her favorite toy

She felt relief like never before

“Thank God it’s a boy!” When she was told.

The years of frustration pain and agony

She just knew “the problem is me

She convinced herself that she was at fault

She cursed herself and with her body she fought

She had tried twice before but found they were girls

She had punished herself and punished the budding pearls

With no fault of theirs, they still had to pay

For their privileged brother they had to make way

Without a choice the girls sacrificed their life

Unflinchingly she made the unborn pay the price

But when she looks at him, she feels no sorrow

She feels no pain, no guilt, and no horror

But at night when she lies down herself

She hears whispers in the wind and she is forced to accept

The ghosts of her unborn linger around her

They cry and cry and call out to her

They ask her why she didn’t love them enough

They ask her why she felt such disgust

They badger her with questions all night long

She lays in fear, prays that she remain strong

One day she noticed that the ghosts weren’t there

Perhaps because her silence they couldn’t bear

For she had chosen to not argue with them

Not give them any response, any closure or satisfaction

She did not know that the ghosts had gone

Because in life & death she had disappointed her unborn

But the love of those girls never truly far

They watched over their brother, protected him from harm



 

That was then, and this is now,

Her son is an adult, he’s seen some ups and down

But in all those lows that he had been in

He was confident that nothing could touch him

Since he was a child he remembered the whispers

Telling him “its ok” whenever he whimpered

The reassuring voices told him they were there

They told him they would follow him no matter where.

He never told anybody, let alone his mother

He knew she wouldn’t understand, not even bother

But his angels were always by his side

In the worst & best of times

But one day when an accident occurred

Everything was quick and all a blur

He couldn’t remember whom he hit,

Nor did he know if he was hit

He was losing strength and consciousness too

He remembered thinking life was so cruel

His weeping mother begged and begged

To the Good Lord, as she sat by his bed

She prayed for his life, his breath

She prayed for his every step

10 days of nothing, he wasn’t getting better

Suddenly he opened his eyes and asked for water

She thanked the Lord for all that he had done

She felt victory, Her prayers had won

But something was strange, When she thought all was well,

Her lively, handsome son kept withdrawing in a shell

As it worsened, she could see

He was struggling to be

Himself again. Something was not right

He was angry with her, constantly picked a fight

She gathered the strength to ask him his troubles

Why he was choosing to live in his bubble

He said he would tell her but she wouldn’t,

Believe him anyway, since she just couldn’t.

He told her about his angels, how he was protected

She was intrigued, almost surprised by what he said.

As he recounted his experiences

She recalled those nightly instances

When She felt whispers around her,

burning her with questions, demanding answers

Her son then told her that the angels called out to him

They told him not to fear, but to walk towards them

He walked and walked and reached a door

And came face to face with them at the threshold

He saw tears on their faces and felt their pride

And they told me once again, that I was doing just fine,

They hugged me tight and told me how far I’d come

And then they announced, ‘It was time to go home.’

Although they wished we could all stay together

The journey ended here and we would part forever.

We were finally together and how,

Why would they push me away? Why now?

They said their purpose was to give me life

And I didn’t know what that meant till they held me tight

And told me they were my sisters and loved me so

That they would give up their lives a 100 times more.

When I opened my eyes and lay in my bed

I looked for my sisters and I gave into my dread

They had become whispers again, smiling in the sun

Encouraging me to go out and have fun,

I felt so much hatred. Hatred towards you,

For you had done the unthinkable, its true.

Because of you my sisters were never born

You robbed me of the most beautiful bond”



 

She cried so much Her strength was spent

At night she lay still, Her shock had no end

As she closed her eyes, she said a prayer

She hoped her strength would no longer waver

Bright light filled the room, as she opened her eyes

Before her they stood so beautiful so wise

She opened her arms and gave a smile

They ran to her as they began to cry

She asked for their forgiveness for everything past

They told her they loved her, they were together at last

She touched their face, and stroked their hair

She finally understood her grave mistake

Time went by and morning came

It was surprising that she was sleeping in so late

When they checked on her, she wouldn’t awake

She had a peaceful smile on her lovely face

They had reached her too late, she was already gone

In peace with the 2 that were never born.



 

10 ways (tests) to know he is the one!

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Many of my girlfriends, who are still single and living the fabulous life, ask me how I knew my husband was the one for me. Truth is I didn’t and I don’t.. but I believe. I think that makes all the difference in the world. Fact is we never really know who is real and who is lying. There maybe a facade underneath the facade..how will you figure it out?

The best we can do, is look for a few things and the rest? Good faith, strong belief. I’m not an expert but I’ve listed down 10 essential things to look for (tests for him) when you’re trying to decide if he is the one.

  1. When you walk into the room…Is he looking at your face or is he checking out your cleavage?
    1. The ideal situation would be when you walk into the room, he looks at your face first then proceeds to check out your cleavage. (Why shouldn’t he? You’re hot and after all, he’s a man!)
  2. When deciding something…say for example you both decide to watch a movie, how does that conversation generally go about? Him: “I have booked tickets to go watch blah”, You: “I don’t really want to watch that”. Him: “Well..Too bad! I have already booked the tickets”- So no consultation and only Domination?
    1. NO WAY!!! Always consult. You don’t have to like the same things, but that doesn’t mean the other person’s opinion doesn’t count. He needs to take into consideration what you like and what you don’t and if he doesn’t care, then maybe he should find somebody who’s willing to put up with his crap.
  3. Does he respect his parents? Does he care of what they think, how they function? I don’t mean to be tethered to them with the eternal umbilical cord, but respect. Be aware of their feelings and their discomfort.
    1. Remember girls, if he respects his own parents, he will respect your parents as well.
  4. Is he self sufficient? Not how much money his dad has, or how fancy his dad’s car is? What about him? What does he earn?
    1. He may not have riches in his kitty, nor does he have to be the Duke of Yorkshire, but if he didn’t have anything can he take care of himself? or you? When you fall sick, will he drive you to the hospital, or will he wait for his daddy to send a car from home?
  5. How do you feel when he is not around? Do you smile, do you laugh?
    1. I shared this incident with a friend of mine. My husband has a habit of making cheesy jokes. For example, when I ask him what he wants for breakfast, he’d invariably reply “love” and some days he would add “you’re my breakfast, as long as I’m looking at you, I don’t need to eat anything”. I personally hate this drama- It’s so corny! Yet..on any morning, when he doesn’t say something silly, I start worrying if something is wrong. When he is not around, I almost always repeat these stories to my friends and I laugh, coz it’s sweet & funny.
  6. How does he treat your friends? Does he suck up or is he normal like he is with his friends? The trick is to balance. If he is going over the top to make your friends happy, then you’re absolutely right to be suspicious. We should never have to go that far to make somebody happy. It’s wrong of you to expect him to impress your friends as well. Friends are there for a reason- they love you and support you and if you screw up, they slap your face blind. But when you’ve made the right decision he shouldn’t have to impress anybody. They’ll already be impressed.
    1. He should be casual, friendly and just himself. If you’re expecting be somebody he is not to impress your friends, then you should check yourself- It basically means you know you’ve made the wrong choice and you don’t want your friends to throw it in your face so you’re getting him to suck up to them. Not cool girl!
  7. How does he consider your choices? Is he critical or judgmental or supportive?
    1. When my friend wanted to buy an expensive Gucci handbag from her second or third paycheck, her boyfriend couldn’t bring himself to be supportive. He explained to her how he would love for her to treat herself to something that fancy but it was too early to splurge and he would wish that she hold off for another month or so, but if she did’t want to wait then to go ahead and he will manage things at home for the next 2 months- That’s how it should be!
  8. What does he want to do in life?
    1. When my friend was getting married, I asked her husband-to-be what he wanted to do in life.. His response was one of the best I have heard. ” I don’t know what I want to do, but I do know what I want to be- A good husband, and a good father”
  9. What does he expect your position to be in his life? A wife, a friend?
    1. He should never forget you are his wife, but that doesn’t mean you stop being friends. Why should he choose one over the other?
  10. Why does he want to marry you?
    1. Because you make his life better, because with you he can imagine his life being so muchmore successful, because he wants to spend his life making you happy & because he can’t live without your smile.

Make the right decision my lovelies. Have faith, good things will come to you! 🙂

Remembering Daddy

Dear Daddy,

How are you? I bet you’re kicking butt up there. 🙂 I hadn’t written to you in forever so I sat down today and decided to pen down (more like type) a few words. Today being the big day and all, it made a lot more sense to write to you today. I’m sure you are eager to know how everybody is over here. Well, we’re all doing pretty great. Mom’s well, still working, still complaining about authorities, still loud. I’m good too and so is Mukul. We have a good life here and a cute house of our own. I do have an inkling that you’d have thought our house was too empty, or not furnished enough, but that’s ok dad, coz we like it that way. 🙂

I was watching some lame TV show today, the kind you and I used to watch all the time, amidst all the laughter. It was one of those talent hunt shows and the judge guy tells one of the contestants that he’s gonna make his folks real proud some day. It was so profound and poetic, I was surprised at the emotion I felt. But daddy, the fact is I’ve become that person. I’ve been this way for 7 years now. Ever since you decided to leave me. I miss you daddy. I really do! If there was anything I could do to bring you back, I would but sometimes, things work the way they do for a reason. Though I’ll never fully understand your actions and the reasons behind them, or the way you lived your life but I’ll forever carry with me the mystery that is your death.

This is the 7th year of your death, and I can’t believe it’s been that long. I remember my birthday parties and I remember you coming to the train station to pick me up, every time I’d come home from college. I remember seeing the pride in your face whenever I took part in school programs. I cannot forget our endless debate on politics, economics, psychology and what not. Those were some good times dad. I can’t forget the time I was hospitalised for jaundice and you were so worried you told me as long as I got well soon, you’d get me anything under the sky. You were so freaked out! come on dad, its just jaundice. 🙂

I know there will never be another you, and I don’t want there to be either, but sometimes I miss you so much that it gets tough to say it out loud in words and then I wonder whether I’m losing my mind or is this real. I’m sure I’ll see you, some day but until then, you take care of yourself and continue kicking butt, coz I wouldn’t expect anything less from you.

I love you dad!

Your daughter

40 Fantastic things about Delhi & Delhiites

Being a Delhiite (any person who belongs to New Delhi, India) there are soooo many things we see and experience every day that are actually outside the ordinary. Interestingly, some of those things we have actually fallen into a habit of seeing or even doing without giving it much thought and it certainly doesn’t strike us as odd. But, then along comes an email like the one I got today called: 40 fantastic things about Dilli (that’s how you pronounce Delhi in Hindi) and you realize “Holy Crap! That shit is so true” 🙂 I actually admire the man/woman who took the time out to write down these quirky little things that only Dilli-wallas (again people from New Delhi India) can relate to.

Read for yourself and if you are from Delhi or know somebody from Delhi, then you know this is true! Read and enjoy and thank you to the perceptive and observant person who put this list together.

40 Fantastic things about saddi Dilli (our Delhi)

You know you are from Delhi when…..

  1. You drink alcohol only on Monday, Wednesday , and Thurday to Sunday evenings. And try not to drink on Tuesday.
  2. Treating a friend means – Daaru Shaaru te kabbab shabaab. (Booze and Kebabs)
  3. Even in the most posh colonies, you hear, “Aaloo lelo !!!, Bhindi le lo !!!! Pyaaz le lo !!!!, Tamatar le lo……” (Potatoes for sale, Okra for sale, Onions for sale and tomatoes for sale)
  4. And you hear women asking the vegetable vendor “Bhaiyaa dhaniya hari mirchi nahi diya!” [Even with Half a kilo Carrot – Dhania & Hari Mirch (coriander and green chillies) is expected to be free ] 😉
  5. A place to meet is Mocha, (CCD), Barista, Hookah.
  6. You use the word “setting” or “jugaad” at-least once a day. (Jugaad:  a colloquial Hindi word that can mean an innovative fix or a simple work-around)
  7. You have not visited either of – Qutub Minar, Red Fort, Lotus Temple. That’s only for tourists, so Delhiites say.
  8. You ride on the cycle rickshaw in NOIDA (more populary known as NEODA) – haggle over the price, but still pity rickshaw walla’s condition and give him what he asked.
  9. You glare at people who call Gol Gappas as Pani Puri!
  10. You always ask the vendor “Bhaiya yeh Gol-Gappe Aate ki hai ya Sooji ke?” (Are the Gol gappas made of flour or semolina?)
  11. Schools are the best is Delhi not because of CBSE, but because you’ve had school cancelled thrice due to cold in winters & summer vacations preponed due to sudden increase heat in Summers and at least two Rainy Day off during Monsoon.
  12. You have been to a wedding at a Mehrauli farmhouse at least once.
  13. You understand all important words in Punjabi & Punjabi “helping verbs” like teri maa di, teri bahen di… oye madar @#$% … oye bahen @#$$. Almost every Delhiite understands Punjabi to an extent. PUNJABI unites everyone.
  14. You call the waiter in the restaurant “boss” or “Pappey” & tack on “yaar” “bhai” to almost every sentence.
  15. You know that Pappay Da Dhaba or Kake Da Hotel has better butter chicken than Taj. You’ve at least tried it once! And you see a BMW, a Porsche OR a Mercedes parked outside it!
  16. You describe practically every other person on the planet as “Vella”. (‘Idle’ or Nikamma in Punjabi).
  17. You see middle-aged Aunties wearing Gucci shades and holding LV bags having Gol-Gappas in GK or Bhelpuri in South Ex along with Diet Coke !
  18. You call every stranger ‘Bhaiyya’.
  19. You refer to East Delhi as ‘Jamuna Paar’.
  20. You refer to AIIMS as Medical.
  21. Pretty girls as Totta, Maal or Bamb (Punjabi for Bomb).
  22. Aashiq mizaz boys as Majnu di Aulad !
  23. You dont buy tickets for a music concert or cricket match, but try to use political contacts… of the deputy secretary of the chief secretary of the Minister of State for Khadi.
  24. You overtake everyone from the wrong side and stare into his/her eyes while doing so.
  25. You have at least two cars and a motorbike at home.
  26. And you have fought at least once every month with neighbors over parking…
  27. You park your Car and take a Auto-rickshaw to Lajpat Nagar / Rajouri/ Kamla Nagar/ Karol Bagh. But CP, you don’t get parking space easily, yet you go always in your own vehicle.
  28. And then you say apni Kanvense (conveyance) howe na ta badi Kanvinyance (convenience) hondi hai ji !!!!!
  29. You have bribed a traffic cop (Mama) at least once.
  30. You know that a farmhouse has nothing to do with cattle or farming. It is luxurious hangout for whole night.
  31. You use “contacts” (jugaad) for everything, from getting movie tickets to restaurant bookings to play-school admissions.
  32. You have had Anda parantha outside Vikram hotel and Bun Omlette at Dhaula Kuan, Kulfi at Karol Bagh, Gol Gappe at India Gate, Dosa at Madras Hotel, Chana/Kulcha at Scindia House and Chaat at UPSC.
  33. Metro rail is your Pride but you travel in your Car.
  34. You think going the mall for shopping is equivalent to walking the ramp at Milan fashion week. You break out all the labels, because when else will you use your Prada, Dior and Louis Vuitton bags?
  35. You feel indicating which way you are going to turn your vehicle is an information security leak.
  36. You are a good driver coz you are correct in your guess of what the driver in the front vehicle will do.
  37. The only time you went to the Chidiya Ghar (Zoo) was on a school picnic.
  38. You expect around 10 FM STATIONS in every city! Woho.!
  39. DESPITE all the good and bad……..You still Love Delhi…
  40. You keep singing ….. Dilli hai Dil Walon ki….. Oye Balle Balle !!!

 

Being Grown up

I realize I haven’t written anything in a long time, but with our recent move from our hometown to a different city altogether, life has been pretty busy for my husband and me. Setting up a new house isn’t an easy task. Carefully selecting each and every piece of furniture, or household electronic or any home décor item for that matter. You’re probably going to think and discuss it over with each other a gazillion times before you do it. Because you wanna make sure you fill your blank canvas with the best of the best.  🙂

I like to call this the ‘adult life’, and my husband finds it a funny when I say that. Although somewhat a challenge, we are really enjoying, going through the entire process of culture sensitization and discovering local food, places to shop; but most of all, we are still coming to terms with the fact that we left our childhood back home with our parents. It was somewhat unsaid between the two of us but it just so happened that we both left every piece of our childhood (every memoir) with our parents. Looks like we have graduated into the ‘adult life’ 🙂

But lemme tell you something, it’s not easy being an adult. The fun and the frolic that accompanies adulthood, always comes with a side order of responsibility. When we got married, my husband and I had an idealistic view of what it would be like to be married and living the adult life, which we expected to transition into like IMMEDIATELY. And although it didn’t turn around that fast and we didn’t just wake up the day after our wedding in some beautiful new land, we realised that we could help each other grow into the people we wanted to be . With the move to the new city it graduation to real, true adulthood became even more easier.

When I was in middle school, I remember seeing this pretty mom dropping her kid off at school. She was beautiful and so well groomed and so independent (because apparently my 11yr old mind thought that if she drove a car she was independent). Then right for a moment, in a wonderful slow motion moment, she looked at me; she looked right at me and she smiled. At that instant I felt so proud and I was speechless and my feet were rooted to the ground. Her hair was twisted into a lovely side bun, she had sunglasses on her head with beautiful almond shaped eyes with red lipstick, and I knew right then and there, how badly I wanted to be an adult. I wanted to be an adult so I could look like her, have a car of my own like her, be free as a bird like her. Now I’m there, my own car, hair in a French knot, red lipstick, the works. But it’s not as much of a delight (some days) as I would have imagined it to be.

Now I think back to my middle school days and wonder if there is any way for me to go back and relive a few memories. That was the time when you could do anything and get away with it. If you ate fries for breakfast, lunch and dinner, you wouldn’t gain a pound. You could come home from school and throw your clothes and backpack on the floor, and somebody would pick it up and would put it back in its place. Aaaah the good life! 🙂

Although it’s hard to let go of your childhood, but you need to move on and experience new things because it doesn’t matter whether or not you move ahead, you’re life is moving irrespective of you. The key is to recognise and embrace the good moves and walk over the bad ones. In the end know this, however difficult it is to be an adult, nothing can beat the fun you get out of it.

“For in every adult there dwells the child that was, and in every child there lies the adult that will be.” 
John Connolly