Miles of Fun

We drove some 3000+ kms all over the mighty USA over the past few weeks. By we, I mean he. I sat in lotus position in the passenger seat with my right index and thumb on google maps.

"Want to add on an additional driver for free?" asked the friendly guy at the car rental.

"NO" my husband said - a little too loudly and firmly in my opinion.

Not that I wanted to drive or anything. We rented two cars. The first one was a boat of a thing that I could barely see out of. The second one was better, and also, guzzled less gas.

It was quite an experience. I don't think I have enjoyed the country as much during all the time I lived there, and also the several trips I have taken in the past ten years (mostly for work, so no wonder), as I did this time.

First of all, it was just amazing to be together like that. I had thought that we would fight like cats and be yelling at each other a whole lot. There was yelling of course, but for the most part, I think we discovered each other and just relaxed as a unit.

We met many friends, held so many babies, attended a family function, drove to both our alma maters, met my Phd advisor, saw snow, rode on super scary roller coasters, ate and slept very well, and shopped for only what we had put on our respective lists.

We talked so much. I was really looking forward to that a fair bit. I assumed that the child would sleep for much of the drive and we could talk adult talk. That didn't happen (at all - the monkey did not take a single nap the whole time, I swear). But still, we talked. Sometimes in code.

We took thousands of photos. I was looking at a couple of them just now and frankly, not too happy with them. But the act of taking photos gave us a good feeling, so we did that a lot. Maybe some day they will be fun to look through, long years from now. Heck, am sure that will be so!

The child has settled back into her usual routine of reading too much now (though she is currently asleep in a jet lag driven afternoon nap). I am trying to control the yelling. Especially since I sense some sort of change in her - a teenage-y streak.

The house is more or less back in working order. One airlock to be removed, a few kitchen items to be re-stocked, one missing maid to be urged out of laziness, couple of kittens to be evicted from the BMW, and it will be like we were never gone....

Mum's the word

I was away this past weekend, attending a wedding, somehow feeling super tired, and catching up with family. I go months without talking to my aunts & uncles, and I only very rarely meet the relatives next removed. Life is busy and I don't get too down thinking about this, but when I see them it feels so good. Plus there is my grandmum, who is pretty awesome.

I am reading the Murakami (1Q84), and I needn't tell you how brilliant it is. Mum read a couple of chapters and decided its a book of short stories. Nothing I said (in Page 512 at that point of time), could convince her otherwise, so I let it go. Which is the best strategy sometimes. No big deal.

She started quizzing me about my early childhood memories. Now this is a tricky thing, right. Sis and I have to talk about this stuff with regular disclaimers that we don't blame her for anything. Not that anything bad happened to us, just the regular parts of growing up and so on, but mum, she is getting increasingly sensitive about this stuff.

So I told her innocuous things. Like I remember being three or so and sitting reciting the alphabet. I was on the living room couch, I remember. It was brown that year. Dad was in his favourite cane chair. I asked him after I got done 'was that capital letters or small?' Of course I don't think this is a pure memory because the story has been told many times in family circles. (As evidence of what, I don't know).

I remember being in our little garden. Early morning, checking out the dew drops, climbing on the gate, plucking the delicate white jasmines, praying, snuggling up to mum early morning inside the mosquito netting, yeah well, lots and lots of things. These are like snapshots in my brain. Not videos. So I have to order them chronologically now.

I was always super tiny. They sent me to a different school than my sister, for a little bit. Because it was closer to home. And it would be easier to not lose me despite my Thumbelina like size. Or something. Well, that school sucked big time and I regularly had to deal with boys who would take off their shorts and run around and all sorts of nonsense like that.

Not that I told my parents any of that. How was I to know? I thought that was how things were in schools. Finally someone figured out that this school was terrible and they pulled me out. I don't remember too much but I think I can picture the scene where a bunch of us kids were taken by one of the maids hired for the purpose, to the school, in the morning.

My mum was always very busy. She was studying for her M.Ed. (when I picked up random words like 'curriculum' and 'corroborate' from her in my Thumbelina avatar). Then she was working at an Institute for Language Studies (where I hung out for ages after school amidst the mango and banyan trees with my quiet friend Vijayalakshmi-with the short cropped stylish hair-style).

Then the old folk at home fell sick one by one and she was busy dealing with that (while I branched out and went to school and figured I was good in studies but not so much in eating and waited the whole day to snuggle up to her in the early mornings). Then she started on her Phd (and I really think I wanted to help her, though all I did was grade the numerous exams she gave kids for the sake of her data).

Although she is right here, few hours away, I miss her a lot. I want to tell her everything. I want to sit down and have a good cry on her lap. But I don't. I spent a lot of time talking to her this weekend. We discussed family politics. Some philosophical musing type stuff. We talked about the kids. We talked about the wedding. And my work. And her apartment. Neither of us talked about ourselves, our feelings, as usual.

(And I still haven't directly told her I ran the Ultra Marathon in December)

Slip Sliding

The thing is, this year has been really very strange. I feel like nothing has gone to plan and this is very difficult for me. One of my friends jokes that I am very resistant to changes in plans, and she can see on my face that it upsets me. I guess its true (also my face is very transparent like that - don't ever make me play poker!), though I have gotten much better about it. Perhaps too much better.... 

One of the things that has been bothering me is my work schedule. I am completely unable to get into a proper flow of work. I blame a lot of things and lots of people for this. Of course, knowing that it was up to me to set expectations about when people can meet me, up front, at t=0, and I didn't. I have barely stayed with my neck above the water for my class. And I just..could..not..read this whole semester. Super annoying.

My mum's voice is constantly in my head. I mean, especially when I screw up, but otherwise as well. She gets real worried about me when I don't call her for days, little knowing that I am having all these conversations with her anyhow so I am all set. She just needs to learn to tune in to this frequency? (Yes, I said that. But so did Rushdie, so there).

Anyway the voice mum tells me I :
* Am trying to be Jack of all trades => Master of none
* Have bitten off more than I can chew 
* Have low stamina, low immunity 
* Have a delicate stomach
* Need to learn to relax and take it easy once in a while
* Am short tempered
etc. 

It is really irritating because its so critical of me. But I know it means well. So I analyse it constantly and try to see which one of those things is my current problem. The thing with immunity is that it is what you believe it is, so I am really trying to get that out of my head (so STOP IT MOM!). The rest are true - except that I don't think I am that short with my temper any more; and of course I have plenty stamina (except for shopping. yuck). 

I woke up this morning feeling quite happy - despite the Monday-ness of the day. I made my Evernote task list and zipped over to my office. Everything went South after that. I couldn't complete a single task on the list successfully or satisfactorily. Phone call - sucked; Formal meetings  - so-so; Informal meetings - cut short; Overall efficiency - virtually nil. 

I rushed back home, picked up some food and a dress and rushed to school. The child was late. I bundled her in, harassed her into eating the chapati, and rushed to the music class (changing out of uniform in car). We got in a tiff about the dress. When she went up to sing, I rushed back home to bring her chappals; and some milk. And a chocolate. I might have felt a bit guilty about my role in the tiff, guilt I couldn't explain away to myself.

She was late returning from the music class - looking absurd in her dress and the school white shoes. I bundled her in again, apologised for my role in the tiff, felt very bad about it for about a second. The next second she was shouting about how much she hates Plum Cake (which I had brought in addition to above) and I didn't feel as bad. We drove to the concert. Which had already begun. 

All the seats in my ticket class were full. We went to the plastic chairs and sat down. Sanjay Subramaniam was in full flow and super awesome. I breathed a sigh of relief and tried to forget everything. Especially the really stiff neck I seem to have acquired. I had about half an hour of enjoyment, mingled with tiredness. 

She started fussing soon after. First she had to use the loo. Which was fine. Then she was bored. Which was not ok. My mobile died promptly, making me worried about all those things all over again. My various responsibilities - all those tasks I didn't manage to do through the day. The fussing increased. We got into a couple of minor skirmishes at this juncture. I yelled a bit into her ear, banshee like. 

When the Thani started, I reluctantly got up and walked out. In a huff, but still holding that monkey's hand as we hit the main road. We got in the car and I delivered my patented lecture about behavior and so forth. I hardly had an appetite for dinner but we somehow managed to shove it down the gullet and now, shortly, after I get Aunt and Uncle who are visiting me, to have their dinner, I will put an end to this miserable day and go sleep... 

The Wipro Chennai Marathon 2012

There are a million photos on FB already, but I am lazy - so I picked this one. Here is most of us all relieved, exhausted, deflated, a few seconds after the last awesome Full Marathoner coasted in past the finish line.

I barely slept last night. There was confusion. Excitement. Gnawing worry. I kept making mental lists. I woke up once to put up a list on Evernote. Volini Spray featured prominently in my list and was to later create enough trouble and frantic phone calls to indicate that there is a lesson to be learnt there.

Child and husband woke up fairly promptly (though it was 3:15 am) as I rushed around waking them, pulling on my jeans, finding my amphipod (which I found) and looking for a bandana (which didn't surface). The calls started by 3:45 am and prodded us out of home in due course...

Everything is a haze after that. The next thing I know is that we were saying CHEEEESE above (and Krishna was behaving like Rajnikanth and changing his clothes for every camera shot). I ran out of energy at two time instants - I remember that - once I just stood frozen somewhere for 30 seconds and another time I was sitting down and zoned out.

The best moment of the day was a quiet one for me. I had pictured this and imagined I would be noisy. Screaming, cheering, shouting, clapping... When I saw him turn the corner, things went real quiet inside me. I ran the last few meters of the race with my super awesome strong half marathoner husband and, still without a word, ensured that he received his medal from our little spawn in her too-big volunteer tshirt... 2:12. Am too proud for words.

When the child & I stood near the start mats and saw the full marathon flag off ON THE DOT at 5 am, tears welled up in my eyes. There was no time to analyse my emotions as I wanted to take a snap of the 5:15 (SHARP!) flag off of the HM. But I haven't forgotten that moment, the second best one of the day, and featuring Ram, inspiration to all of Chennai (and beyond).

Rocket & I shared a few minutes of that unique mix of joy and sadness for our country, for our women, as we talked about the little lady who won the Full Marathon in some un-imaginable time. She came from nowhere I knew, touched her brother's feet when she finished her race, and offered her thanks to Goddess Earth (as I understood).

My gender made me proud today. I can only imagine the battles they fought to get themselves out there; to finish strong; to smile. My friends came from Bangalore - two of my dear friends from my college days. They ran past the hostel we all, long years ago, shared so many good times in. I met two other women from outside Chennai - their faces familiar to me from facebook. My own campus friends - students and colleagues alike - were there in numbers. Of course, the Chennai Runners, the Dream Runners, and most of all Rocket with her spectacular second place finish....

[Not to mention my little baby daughter, who woke up so ridiculously early this morning; walked everywhere holding my hand;  hung medals on hundreds of sweaty necks; and ate nothing - and more pertinently, did not read anything - till nearly 8 am when her father rescued her from me]

I am thankful, grateful, overwhelmed, sad, happy, and immensely emotional. My physical body is battered. My lower back is spasming, my period (always impeccable timing that one) driving me insane, I am not even thinking about my right foot. My mind is a whirl of memories, snapshots, thoughts. Overall, all I want to now is run for a long while and sort everything out the only way I know how to. But perhaps some sleep might first be in order...