March is upon us!

Goodness, how time flies. Here I am, still unable to deal with the fact that it is 2008 now. And I suddenly see that its March. How is a person supposed to cope? Let me make a list in any case.

• Parents, all of you out there, please listen to me. Just ease up okay? I am downright furious at all of you who are pressuring young folk. Instead of emotionally blackmailing them, making them live your dreams for you, and so on, spend time in helping them figure out their life. There are a billion options out there today, many of them pay well, several of them will give them a happy life, help them find which one works best for them. For heaven's sake, stop pushing them into engineering or some such. Don't make me come over there with a can of whup-ass.
  
• I am going to become a germophobe. It sounds cool I think. JLo has apparently become one after she had her kids (twins I think). Some dude on American TV will not even shake hands with anyone cause he is a germophobe. Sounds totally awesome. I initiated my foray into this by mopping the one inch of grime from my desk first thing this morning.
• My wardrobe change has gone down the drain. I am back in my old clothes. The man-kurtas I bought are untouched. Today I am wearing a bindi though. With my green salwar kameez and the decent chappals that I wear for shaadis, not the Nike Hawai. Its something I suppose. Must ask my mum (who, by the way, appearances notwithstanding, never ever pushed me into anything) to help me help myself.
• The monster-child is better now. Germs, please don't come back. She still looks like two eyes with four sticks (two arms, two legs) under them, but is on the mend. Still feeling shit scared to send her to creche, thankfully school is on leave for a few more days. But they have exams in April, oh sorry, evaluations is what the teacher calls them. And no, we are not stressed about it, we are looking forward to it with excitement. At least I am, she has declared that she is too small to write exams and that I should write them for her. I would love to but am a few inches too tall (thats a first..)
• In an attempt to use the word flocks (or was it folks?), she said, Oh those fucks. I cracked up big time. I guess as a responsible parent I should be shocked, chagrined, and going around chastising myself for swearing so much. But hey!
• Spent the weekend in Chennai. Was nice. I think I like Chennai weather now. I don't even break a sweat. My only problem with Chennai is Sun TV. I visited the flower market. Nice, though the guys were rude and asked for huge amounts of money. I do love the smell of jasmine flowers (fresh ones). I shopped for glass bangles. It was quite difficult to find them. There is every conceivable type of bangle but glass available. Pathetic situation. I bought some paavadais for a friend's kid. She liked them! Thank god for NRIs! So much culture-embracing they are.
  
• Went to a thread ceremony. Kid was real enthu and wanted to fall at my feet - he is supposed to do that to all the adults, after they give him this rice. I refused to let him and hugged him instead (why not? I felt emotional, seemed like a big step for such a small boy). Aunties behind diamond nose studs glared at me. HMPH. I was wearing a Mysore Silk with a black blouse encrusted with beads. Chennai does not like such things, but hey!
• I think I know why I like boys. They are simpler than us. While my monster was busy negotiating various things and calculating causes and effects in her head, my nephew went around having boats of fun. We had to chase him around to ensure (a) he did not break much (b) did not *OH GOSH* go into the balcony and (c) gave me maximum kisses and hugs posssible. And he fell asleep in a flash after all the activity. Though he did seem to have turned on some tap and flooded the floor. Meanwhile my daughter wanted to take off her shoes. Because he was asleep. So when it was time to go, we would be forced to carry him. And since she was not asleep (and not likely to be), she would have to walk. But if her shoes were off I would not make her walk barefoot so we would have to carry her as well. And it would be all even. My brain nearly had a short-circuit. I like boys. The agenda is clear with them. No machinations.
  
• Parents, I am watching. Back off. I don't care a rat's ass about your missed vocation, your sunk opportunity, and all that you gave up because (a) you had your child young (b) your parents just could not afford it or (c) whatever. Go figure out ways to make your life meaningful without going ballistic on your teenager, she has enough on her mind already.
  

Oh well, I grant you, 2008 is well and truly here to stay. At least its a leap year. I like that. Sort of.

Revelations

Well, regular programming to resume next week. I had, as usual, some revelations in the past week thanks to my illness, and friends visiting, and so on.

1. Women cannot get any rest. Indian women for sure. Housewives, career chicks, masala mommies, all of them, have tendencies to martyrdom. Its nothing noble, in fact, it is quite stupid of them (us). But deep-rooted.

2. Bandra is a jungle. Powai is a jungle. Both places have, of course, non-traditional set-ups, like in place of the thick undergrowth we have drains and feet. In place of the overhanging trees and greenery there are the buildings. Like insects and other creatures teem in tropical jungles, so do people throng in these urban jungles. Like animals pee to mark their territory, so do people pee, though not always to mark their territory, but just to show that they have the requisite plumbing. Now what are the cars, trucks, autos, push-carts? Poachers with guns and hats?

3. Summer is upon us. Amchi Mumbai is breaking spontaneously into sweat. The fans whirr ineffectually overhead. We balk at the pedestal fans which can fit little fingers in. We seek cold water (NO! DONT DO IT. That is probably what causes soar throats). Its time to think longingly of hill-stations, Antartica, or at the very least, of some place other than Mumbai where parents or other such relatives/friends one may impose upon, live. Just make sure the place has only a reasonable amount of load-shedding.

4. Have handed in form with immunisation certificate, birth certificate, service-book record, and what not in school#2 with dusty floors. Teachers have looked longingly at me, they have smiled. I have carefully dressed so as to look responsible and so on, office staff has responded better. It takes three minutes along a shady, tree-lined road to get there from my office. The school-yard has ancient trees. It has the smell of summer-time, exams, results, P.G.Wodehouse, visiting friends on my red bicycle, those are recalled with a pleasant ache.

5. I am teaching Kannada to child, why lose a language? I say bollocks to people who tell me that its confusing for children to try to pick up a lot of languages. I say don't tell the kids that they are languages. Teach them songs. We are all about songs. Recommendations on good kiddie books in Kannada/Hindi/Tamizh are also welcome (I cannot read Tamizh but might be a good time to learn, or others in the house can read them to her).

6. One friendly visit happened on Saturday. The night stretched out almost into day. Was nice. Wish I could remember what we talked about. But the biscuits left with us are yummy, they remind. Like Ashima and Ashoke in The Namesake, we may be accused of parochially hanging out only with friends we went to college with. Yes, I think that would be a fair accusation.

We are off to Phuket tomorrow. Wish me patience! Night flight, change of airports in Bangkok, hyper-active child, and so on. Hope to visit Zoo, Aquarium, and Elephant something. And when I return I will be a year older, hopefully endowed with a few white hairs.