Monday, 25 August 2008


How many balls do you have in the air right now? My mum has always maintained that I over-stretch my limits. This weekend it sure felt like that. But then it was fun, plus I managed naps so maybe it is fine! Its definitely who I am, no doubt about it.

Friday evening was a big pleasant surprise when I returned home. Our house guest was back home and in good spirits, his father-in-law having found himself on the path to recovery. The kid was deep in play with my own monster, despite their very different personalities. Monster=pink girlie things (and books). Visiting kid= light saber; Jedi; Dark knight (in full costume). They met in a middle ground involving chucking every item of play out of the boxes; and chocolates. AND, the husband was back home early. I mean when there was still light. And I had not even eaten my dinner. In fact, he was back earlier than I was and was torturing the in-house Jedi while the monster looked on. How romantic am I that the first thought thing I said was 'Hey you are back, chal, lets go play basketball' And how romantic he is, that his eyes lit up at the thought. But we did not go, it was a bit rainy.

Friday night the boys (yes our house guest is a friend from college who was visiting Mumbai with four year old son in tow due to a family emergency) took up their drinking. I avoided it. Not out of Bharatiya Naari type fundas, but because I had a cold going on (still do), and had scheduled to go for an early run Sat morning. I was hanging out with them after my dinner while they drank and initially it was all good. I was feeling quite smug because the monster had, for the first time, read herself to sleep. Although she was sleeping perpendicular to preferred position, with her head on my part of the lumpy bed, and legs splayed over her adjoining crib. Still, smug I was. But then the boys started talking about banks and incentivising people (as if it is a word!) and markets and predicting the sub-prime and inflation and, at infrastructure bonds, it felt like about twenty pre-historic monsters were screaming in my head. I flounced off to bed even as they ignored my Good nights.

Saturday morning dawned reasonably dry so I got ready and went off up the hill to the abode of the dolphin. As expected, the woman was a tall skinny runner types. I have stopped believing women when they say they are fat and lardy and adipose filled and so on. Also, if I may so, she is so pretty! So anyway I am so glad she has moved here so close to my place and look forward to many more entertaining sets of running! And also thanks to blog for paths crossing.

I had a drive to Mulund on the cards, while the husband went to the gym later. But before that I complained bitterly about the loss of my calculator (three years ago now). The drive was horrid. Trucks tried to elbow me from the get go. The meeting with the doctor was as useful (or useless) as ever. I returned home famished. The monster had been responsibly fed by my mum. I chomped on some food myself. And then, tried to convince her that she should hang out with Appa. But if you agree to something once in a fit of weakness, there is no going back, with this girl. So finally I had to take her. To my class. Yeah. She brought a bag full of crayons. Seriously. She had one small colouring book. One new Winnie the Pooh that I tossed in knowing that she cannot reach the desks too easily and would prefer to read. And a HUGE pampers wet wipes dabba full of broken crayon bits. We had a good laugh over it. But, hey, no cribs, as she sat through my class happily with the Pooh propped in front of her. She was possibly the most enthusiastic member of the class, and contributed significantly to attendance percentage. So good. We returned home and I was exhausted so with dire warnings to all of them I went off to take a nap.

And another pleasant surprise when I woke up! A brand new calculator! And a Britney Spears style headphone-microphone combo, Skype, here I come now. Once in a while, one does feel like one married the right person. Not to mention picking the right parents since mum had boiled milk and put all the toys away and straightened the couch and figured out dinner plans. The monster having followed me in and fallen asleep with her head on my ear, the two of them had also managed to get their movie fix. Which is good too as I cannot stand the type of movies my husband and my mother tend to like.

My cold had worsened by night (the calculator notwithstanding) so we did some family pack of hot water bottles, I treated Vicks Vaporub like it was going out of fashion, and gargled and wore my hospital nurse scrubs over on top of my other clothes and with the thought that Sunday was to be a full day, went off to sleep early again. But not before I managed to finish the 3 mistakes of my life. No, I did not buy it. My sister did in a fit of madness. Its horrendiferocious. I mean the story is fine, its semi-entertaining, like a Salman Khan movie would be. But the English. Oh! Oh! Anyway it was with pleasant thoughts of meeting Mr Bhagat on a flight and whopping him one on the head that I went to bed, my head meanwhile the size (and weight) of Australia (or other similar-sized land mass).

Sunday morning and I dragged off to my kick boxing class. The instructor was real happy at my me for showing up (after my cribs on SMS the previous night about colds and what not). He made some cracks about my drinking habits, but found it in his heart to make the session not outrageously crazy. Just fifty reps instead of hundred, thanks to your cold, he said. Anyway it was fun and really, my head did not feel so bad then. What do you know!

Sunday brunch was with a group of friends we have not met in a long while. Despite them being in Mumbai. The nucleation happened because of the visitor. I set him up on it, get us together now, you can do it, I beseeched, literally. We safely chose a five star type venue, you know, 'cause the kid is American and all. The guys were super happy to see each other and proved it by causing serious damage to Kingfisher stock at The Grand Maratha Sheraton. The kids got tattoos, portraits, played with balloons, and generally were completely out of our hair. Of course the two girls, matching in pink outfits, had this look on their face, as they suffered the boy brandishing a long yellow balloon and calling it a light saber. We all swore to meet more often and exchanged phone numbers (these are, for a change, friends of my husband, so I do not have their numbers). In the car ride back, the monster fell asleep in the back seat, and we talked about how fun it was. But also, too bad that people get married and then the equations just change. Of course one hopes sincerely that this did not happen with us (not that anyone would remember that far back). But really it was just awesome as far I am concerned, not to mention the fact that the kids totally bonded despite meeting for the first time.

Sunday evening was a long ride to Borivali to my uncle's house. They had cooked up a storm and made a big puja for Krishna for Janmasthami. It brought back memories of childhood to see my uncle in his silk dhoti. I used to LOVE the festival. Too bad things changed inside me so much in recent times. Actually, good for me, but perhaps not so good for monster or husband. Oh well, will figure it out soon. I ate a ton of rice and discovered that the rice habit in the night has gone away. Made me feel humongously full. But my grandmom had made murukkus and so on that my aunt offered to me and I gladly brought back. Yummy. Poor thing still having that much enthusiasm at 82!! And me so blaah about everything already at 34.

When we returned home and went to bed it was late but the weekend was so much fun and I have that calculator for using today that I even forgot to do my Vicks treatment. Or to bemoan the fact that husband had an early morning flight to Chennai. Today, if I manage to stop writing and so some work efficiently, I plan to go home and make an effort. Minimal one though. If you mix rice flour with water and dip a child's foot in and leave foot-prints in the house, it actually feels like little Krishna has visited you. At least to the child. You can also use the side of your hands and actually surprise the child! I don't know, maybe.


choxbox said...

i can do all that too - would take me like 3 weeks though.
you took her to class! wow, what fun!

Babbi said...

u kick-box?? wow i should be careful.. and yes.. i could not agree more.. bhagat's english does suck...i kinda didnt like the storyline either.. try sea of poppies by amitav ghosh.. that guy makes you feel proud! (ps- i have the book, so u can borrow it from me)

kbpm said...

cb, sharrup. you big liar. & its really not that much fun. i have taken the niece once and, since it is a real polite child, it was only under severe coaxing that it admitted that, frankly, it was quite boring and sleep-inducing. :(

babbi. amitav ghosh is a hot favourite of mine. i have the sea of poppies (thankyou) am waiting to finish sundry other books before starting on it. though i am not sure i feel proud of him that much, he looks like Mungeri Lal. and wags his head too much. :)

Babbi said...

he does was his head a li'l too much.. but thats pardonable.. hehe!

Orcaella brevirostris said...

one doesn't know whether to be more flattered at the "athletic runner type" or the "she's so pretty!" comment. one is thrilled at both, natuerlich!

if your cold isn't too bad, i'm up for another 7k this saturday.

(discreetly returns to kneading away the adipose rolls)

kbpm said...

yes Saturday it is. anyway will message or call. knead away now. :)

Sraikh said...

Where did my long comment go. Well I commented and blogger fucked it up. Am not typing it again

kbpm said...

oop sorry not there in my inbox either. :-(