Hit the Road (vol 1)

One sunny morning, last week, I decided to get on my bike and head out... To get in touch with my solitary side, I guess.... To make sense of things in my life, with the steady, natural rhythm of pushing the pedals..To stop talking and speaking, and to start listening... Because, nothing makes me more aware of myself than the sounds of the road, when I'm on my bicycle.I ride on, at a steady, unhurried pace, soaking in the feeling of being alive... Drinking in, greedily, from the repertoire of nature- her sights, sounds and smells...
If I were a decent artist, I'd draw or paint, If I were a poet, I'd write of her beauty, her freedom and her limitlessness... But as I'm none of those, I just take off, charge myself, live-in-the-moment and enjoy the journey. Lately, this selfsame 'CYCLING' bug has bitten my better half as well, and we both take off on our bikes, riding out when the kids are fed and watered, and safe in their beds, GM (grandmother and general manager!!) keeping an eye and an ear on them from downstairs...
Yesterday, we circled Houghton Regis, and stood around when the rains splashed down, sheltered from a conifer... biking relaxes me like nothing else can, and it reminds me not to abuse my body- since this is the only one I'll ever have!! So, no more late-night snacks, staying up to watch Supernatural on Living TV, (much as I love Dean & Sam!)  or eating mounds of rajma-rice for lunch and dinner...
The one thing I can, and DO is to take a lot of pictures... and it makes for some interesting viewing- in retrospect!
Here's a peek:
Cycling

Happy birthday, Mon!

Dear Mon,
I hope you had a terrific day today and the love of family and friends, near or far, makes it special too! Raina must be thrilled at the prospect of blowing out the candles on your cake, and singing 'happy birthday' to her lovely Mummy!! I always marvel at your contentment and 'living in the moment' spontaneity! Your smiles and your voice, your gardening skills and your observations of Raina's growing-up years...!
You are unique in your optimism, loving and caring beyond measure and kind and supportive to everyone who needs you or reaches out to you. This, I know, from personal experience! Rather than living your life wondering what could have happened, you jumped right in and made things happen for you! Your dedicated hard-work, your talent and your enthusiasm has always been inspiring... Take care and have a fantastic day today!
Miss you!
Love and hugs,
Ruch

A Note in his cupboard...

My husband and I often talk about how we've steadily grown apart. Atleast, I do, while he listens. After I've finished moaning about our lack of 'quality time' together, he gets his ammo sorted, and proceeds to blame my 'sleepiness' (after a whole day spent running from one place to another), hectic schedule (work, kids's schools, their entertainment, routines, my volunteering programme, my studies...ok, ok, ok, MY FACEBOOK, BLOGS n MUMSNET addictions!!) and my inability to tear my attention away from my two brat-daughters even when he's about. I, for my part, complain about the lack of 'romanticism' in our married life, the absence of cuddles on the sofa (for other reason's than disinclination to cuddle on our part!), the lack of intimacy and the total absence of any time for us as a couple....
After a lot many such talks, and seeing no changes in our temperaments, whether singular or collective, I decided to try out my best friend's suggestion. That's you, Mon!! Remember how you told me about leaving post-it notes in H's lunch box, on his tie, near his socks etc??!! Well, I left him some of mine in his cupboard, and boy! Was he surprised!! Today on my break at work, as I picked up my phone to talk to him, I was dumbstruck to find a tender message of thanks from his phone. It made my day, and I'm wearing my 'goofy grin' even now!!
Thank you, Monu, for a terrific idea!!
Notes are something my mother would send my Dad a lot, too! sometimes she'd hide them, sometimes she'd post them via  the post. She often wrote long letters to him when he was away on duty with his Squadron in the IAF, and wait patiently for him to return... Come to think of it, they spent many moons apart- He attended courses, Foreign Trips to Sri Lanka, Larnaca, or commission a new fleet of aircraft (from the erstwhile USSR),  She taught Sanskrit to B.A students at the Sri Sathya Sai Institute of Higher Learning, and lived on Campus, away from all of us for a year... I truly believe in the old adage: 'DISTANCE MAKES THE HEART GROW FONDER'..
Their yearning, their love for each other was like a silent stream, not a gushing, raging river, but a tranquil lake, on whose glassy, mirrored waters I see my childhood reflected. Clean and clear. Safe and Peaceful. I never heard them shout at each other, (or anyone else, for that matter!!) Their marriage was, and is an Ideal Marriage to me... Even in his solitude and 'alone-ness', Dad is not alone... It is as if her soul, her spirit is always in him, around him and he can feel the peace it brings to us all, to see him so detached, yet so affectionate and so mindful of our needs, as his children. I may have said this before, and I will possibly say it again- My Mom and Dad are my ideals in life... They signify what a a marriage is all about...

Happy Birthday, Daughter!

Whenever the birthday of a loved one rolls around, I get ponderous, wistful and, at times, a little bit sad. Just a little bit, though! Last weekend was one such day. What made it extra special and extra poignant is that my first-born turned eight that day. There's something irrevocable and definitive about birthdays. Like time has been stamped and chronicled...so-and-so is now and henceforth eight years and counting....time that has passed on, never to return. All that remains are memories, growing fainter and fainter with the passage of time, save those special details that make memories feel so very much alive...

My first baby...Shivangi. I quite vividly remember the day she was born in all its glorious details...It was a Monday, and a sunny one at that. I had walked home, after being discharged from the hospital that very morning, after a weekend 'under observation'. After reaching home, I cooked and waited for my M-i-L to return from work. As we watched TV that night, I felt an uncomfortable pain around my bump, as if an invisible band was being gradually tightened around my ample middle... Mum asked me if I was all right, and, since I had no clue, I nodded. Later that night, as the discomfort intensified, she told me to take care and get some rest, and to wake her up if I felt any pain. My husband worked afternoon shifts as a restaurant manager, so I called him and we talked about the possibility that tonight was THE NIGHT!! After an excited exchange and numerous text messages to him, I rang the Delivery Suite team and was told to take some Paracetamol and try to relax until the contractions were five minutes apart. When I told my husband Raj, he just jumped up, and said, "Let's go!!" 

I can recollect, with some accuracy, the way the Delivery Suite Midwives settled me in, and the way I held my husband's hand with bone-crushing intensity. (Its a good thing he has always been fit and works out at the gym, come rain or shine; a lesser man would have howled and pulled away as the waves of pain crashed over me with alarming regularity.) It all felt so rushed, and uncomfortable that I felt like saying, "hang on, can we run over this bit again!!??" It left me ill-prepared to use the gas-and-air mask that a nurse told me to breathe with when the pain intensified. Consequently, I managed to deliver my precious first child whilst feeling as if I were being ripped from the inside out. I pushed and pushed and then some more until the searing pain gave way and I felt a warm, wet and soft form escape my body... I craned my neck to catcha glimpse of my child, (all I could see was black hair and a tiny, limp form, face down on the sheets between my knees. Worried and anxious when I did not hear her cries (as I had expected, thanks to the hundred-odd hindi films depicting the birth of a child) my feeling of dread was pushed to the back when the super-efficient midwife wrapped her up in a clean towel and proffered my husband a pair of scissors to cut the cord...With shaking hands, he did just as she instructed, and she lay my baby in my ams for a quick cuddle.... Meanwhile, Senior staff who entered the room (I had no idea who they were and scrambled to preserve the remnants of my dignity) A supportive midwife helped me sit up and I was relieved to see I was decent! The seniors consulted amongst themselves about her low APGAR score, and debated on the next course of action. All this took just a few minutes and soon after her birth, they had a little sterile trolley brought in and were ready to take S down to NIU to be monitored for a few hours.

In the moments following her birth, as the NICU staff whisked her away, my dear husband looked worried sick and torn in two as he brushed away tears with the back of his hand. A nurse plunged a needle into my thigh to give me some vitamin K and another prepared to 'stitch me up'. Late that morning, after an hour of bed rest, and a wash (that made me feel like I was still alive) and being examined and monitored by the wonderful staff, I was wheeled down to see my brand-new baby daughter, who I had only just held in my arms briefly, until that point... (My husband and his mum had gone home after seeing to it that both of us were okay and resting.) She looked so tiny, so fragile and yet so much her own person!! Her spiky, jet-black hair stood out in all directions,  her eyes tighly shut, an unmistakable frown (her Dad's) imprinted her forehead as she lay on her tummy, under the warm light in an incubator. As she slept, I looked and looked at her, unable to fight the urge to hold her close, yet afraid to do so, as she clearly, needed the drip and the warmth. I debated with myself and continued to look at her until a kindly nurse asked me if I'd like to hold her!!?? So, as mother and daughter were finally re-united outside the womb, a new chapter of our lives began! A chapter that said, "Hello!!"

In all our interactions so far in her young life, I try and recollect that first meeting and that first touch... As she snuggles up to me at night and falls asleep to this day, her breathing becoming regular and her little hands clasping me in different places, I thank God for the gift of motherhood...

Music is pure joy!

Today, I visited my daughter at her school in the morning. A few weeks ago, my husband and I had recieved a hand-drawn invite to the Guitar Concert her class was practising for...Dear Dady and mum, it said, Brunel Class invites you to their Guitar Concert on 27th June 2012, at 10:30 A.M...
I was curious about her co-curricular activities at school, and had eagerly waited to see how she felt about performing! Shivangi has difficulties with expressive and receptive language, social interaction and with her fine and gross motor skills like writing, running, jumping, walking etc.... (these are the words of experts, who have supported, studied and 'assessed' her SEN so far...) but, like all children, she loves music and will rock and nod her body and head to a tune she likes... Sometimes, she bursts into tears and tells me to stop singing and at other times she gives me a big hug and a kiss on my hand as I sing, cooking their breakfast or walking them to school! ...What can I say; she's uniquely mine!!

Shivangi, all smiles after her concert at school today.

So, it was doubly important for me to see her do something she clearly enjoyed and tried to do her best with...! The concert was beautiful, and all the children played really well! I could see that they all loved it, and were proud and elated to put up the concert for their parents. Many of the parents had missed appointments, breakfast, and walked for a good half hour to be there and the pride was visible in their grins of delight and the enthusiastic applause.. Shivangi, while struggling with the strumming at times, definitely seemed like she loved what she was doing! She had a great big smile on her little face and, from behind the kids in the front row, she sneaked me smiles and kisses before they began playing. To say that my heart swam with joy is not off the mark... it a feeling every parent will relate to, no matter what their child is doing, so long as they are enjoying themselves...
They played a few songs, and the kids struck the chords well, then it was time for us parents to be introduced to the beauty of music, as the kids sang and demonstrated PULSE, RHYTHM, TONE and PITCH, and played a few more songs- reggae and country- to show us their kind of music they had been listening to.
Andy, the guitar and music teacher is a great guy, and the kids played with him well; he took them through the demo and smiled encouragingly so the kids felt at ease. Later, as we chatted about sourcing a guitar for the kids, he answered my questions about how and where to get a good kids' guitar, so that their small hands can reach across without a struggle! Its Shivangi's birthday next week and I wanted to get her something she would cherish during her childhood... My own parents inculcated in us a love for music, and so Keya di got her first tuned piano toy when she was little, followed by Me and Diggi who had a keyboard, and we learned to play the sitar(me) and tabla (him) at school when little.
I recollect that Harit and you got together largely due to your shared love of music, and its a terrific inheritance for Raina. The fact that you have so much variety in your musical repertoire, is amazing and a great learning tool besides...! Love an happy music-ing!!
Ruch

Just another day....

My Dear Monu,

Life is not without end... what is eternal is how you live it.

On many occassions, at high or low points in my life, I've dwelt on the meaning or implication or the phrase, "I cried because I had no shoes, until I saw a man who had no feet.." What it signifies to me is that, basically, joy and sorrow are the byproducts of our OWN mind. Let me explain. In the armed forces, many a soldier lives from day-to-day, always following orders, undergoing rigorous training, and pushing their bodies to the limits of endurance.... Are they happy?? Or sad...?? All I know is that in that position, as my brother says, one is just happy to eat a meal, sleep for four-five hours or have a quick shower!!
For me, life is to be lived with no regrets.... if, going back, you feel you did not do something right somewhere, then its time to have a re-think, and talk things through with all those who were a part of the decision, or were and are affected by it...It is the reason why I try to talk to Raj about the slightest nagging restlessness of my heart and mind. To his credit, he can spot at once if things are not right and will ask me outright, what the matter is... On some occassions, the talk stops mid-way, like a boatman who loses the oars midstream, or a swimmer who finds his arms and legs frozen...
I then let it go, and things don't get resolved, only more complicated....
Often, when I feel I am sad or down, and can't take things anymore, I visit a friend or, in extreme situations, the doctor, who patiently listen, offer support, maybe even a solution or two... But as I am not one to push people around, or force them to do things they may be unhappy with, I just feel my stress melt away after I talk to my father or my brother... Life has taught me something; never cause yourself pain and internal suffering, from the words of others; just let it go sweeping over your head! Whenever I feel my situation is unbearable, I thik of my dearest Keya di- so far away, so alone and cut-off, and yet she remains happy- I always hear the smile in her voice when I cal her, and she make my day by sending me a mail from across the oeans, every once in a while...
She is strong, stoic, supportive and terrific... in all, I am but a shadow of her, as she goes about her life living to make her family happy and joyous, even at the cost of her own happiness...
Sometimes life, itself, gives us a silent lesson and teaches us a thing or two...
I'm just learning to listen and learn...
In your post you wrote about how you and Raina went for a morning walk and connected over a children's movie...I was smiling when I read that...! Thank you for sharing a wonderfully simple idea with me! I also take the girls out to the park fairly early on sundays, and we all love the fresh air and they enjoy playing there. I miss Raj and wish he would wake up around nine and come with us too, but he is not a morning person... My biggest solace is the fact that I, at least, am able to go out with them and do as I please.. It is these moments which are so precious! I'm learning something each time I read your post...so keep them coming!
Be happy ALWAYS!

Being alive...

My children...!

Whenever I come upon a certain day in the year, each year, there is only one burning thought in my mind- am I really alive!? Alive in the actual sense of the word, the way mother nature wishes us to be?? ...Alive to my surroundings, to the feelings of others, their needs, my own needs, our collective happiness, and joy etc!? Not just happiness that comes from eating a good meal or watching a film, but joy within, in my essential being- joy that makes me and my loved ones feel blissful and at peace...

 This day, today, is the 36th, maybe give or take a decade. Simply because, growing up, I never really dwelt on the finer points of life like I do now...now that I have my own children and watch my life's joys intertwined with their everydays!! I always spend this day thinking about my parents, secretly thanking the Lord for giving me the parents He did. My father, strong, simple, placid and calm, and a rock anyone can lean on! My mother, pretty much the same, only as flexible and as strong as a reed of willow by a lake, so that she withstood the toughest times in her life with Dad by her side and they both, together, gave me and my siblings a lesson in life like no one else can.

What can I say about my mother that I've not said before..?? She is the one who bore me, gave me life, and not having her around now for the last 17 years has been very hard.... I remember her telling me about how she was rushed to the hospital, and I was born prematurely...Dad was away on Temporary Duty with the Indian Air Force..... My uncle was the one who was called and told that I was a girl, all of three pounds, and he imagined they were talking of a child with a third leg!! ( पाँव or paun in hindi means leg)  I can imagine his relief when he actually saw me that day!! My mother would talk to me when I was growing up, and would ask her what she remembered about the day I was born... and I remember how she told me she felt horrified and indignant when women and relatives asked her in gujarati months after I was born, "છોરી જીવે સે!?" ( or "..is your girl still alive, then!?" )

I think of my father, how he has coped all these years, alone, and yet in bliss... and how hard it is for me to imagine myself in his position... That I am learning something from him everyday is an understatement... in fact, every time I think of him, he inspires me beyond measure....! He has such tremendous faith in me, that it gives me confidence to simply BE!! He is all I have now, of both of them, and in some way, he is both father and mother to me now- such is our rapport.

Each time this day rolls around, I think of my father and mother and whether or not they would be proud and happy with the way I have conducted my life thus far... I think I know, deep down, that the answer is what keeps me going and trying to better myself, and make amends when all seems to be lost or whenever I feel weak or helpless... I am lucky to have the love and blessings of my parents today, as are all the children in the world...I love life so much because it was a gift from them... and I can confidently say 'I will survive' anything, any situation, simply because their upbringing has equipped me with the necessary values and lessons to be a fighter and a soldier; I can love and I can also let go...but most of all, I feel privileged to be their daughter...

Thinking of you, Mummy and Dad, on my 36th birthday, I hope and pray that someday, you both will have good reason to be proud of me!! Till then, I shall strive to better myself each day and every time that I feel I could have done it 'just right' with a bit more effort! Please accept my most loving and sincere pranams to you both for being my parents in this life...