What's up Doc??!!!

 It's become evident that few people can go to the doctor for a simple, even non-clinical requirement and come back without feeling like they were modern-day Frankenstein's monsters or something to that extent.

I'd gone to the dentist over the weekend for a simple scaling. A scaling I tell ya, and I met with the most lachrymose-type doc I'd ever met. I was wondering if she'd starting weeping at the sight of my plaqued teeth or not. But Ye Funereal Teeth Cleaner Lady just told me with the right amount of doom in her voice, that I had an overbite and that my teeth were grinding against each other.

When I asked her how my teeth could grind themselves without any help from me or my jaw, she looked even more melancholy and said my teeth would get shorter, but conversely with my gums receding my teeth would become more exposed (imagine me as all gleaming calcium caps on display peeps!) and in time they (the non-pearlies) would become lose, move (teeth migrated too huh?) and I might have to get them extracted- UNLESSS...
I wore braces!!

So she very glibly told me about her orthodontist friend who again, very conveniently also attends the clinic where I'd gone to. She then mistook my gobsmacked look to mean that I didn't know what an orthodontist was and proceeded to explain.

When I recovered from the experience of being told my mouth and teeth were on the highway to hell (dentally of course) I asked her if wearing braces would curb the problem for sure. Mrs. Dirgeful Mourning 2011 told me that nothing was for certain and that after atleast 1.5 to 2 years of wearing the braces we'd know then.
I was feeling quite bummed out (mainly by her tone and demeanor and about braces which I've hated since I was a kid) and told her, "I never thought I'd have to wear braces at my age!" She promptly asked for my age and when I told her (you thought I'd mention it here, didn't you? Suckers!!) she told me with a lot of gloomy relish that it could happen to anyone but mine was in the initial stages so I should be happy.

After all that nonsense we finally got the damn teeth clean! Thankfully another doc did it. I wouldn't have opened my mouth for the sad freak ever!!

I kept thinking that I had no disease per se and the Angel of Doom was making such long pronouncements about it in her most sepulchral manner; what if she'd been another kind of doctor and had to tell the patient that something WAS seriously wrong with them? She'd probably have Berlioz's Symphonie Fantastique playing in the background to give it the proper doomsday tone!!

Am I going back to see the orthodontist? No way Jose! If they have a problem with that I got something to tell them- Bite ME!

Meme # I've lost count

  • I love my time alone at home. Well am technically not alone. But in a way I am. Booga Booga Booga!
  • I love making up silly songs for my kid. Most of them are recycled tunes but the words are FRESHAA!
  • My ideal job would be where someone paid me to read the books that I want.
  • I love bean bags.
  • There's no food like Chinese food. Even the kind the street vendor sells.
  • I always apologize to my kid (when he's asleep) for having yelled at him or spanked his bumbum.
  • I am inherently lazy. I act busy to confuse others :)
  • If I could, I would travel and read all my life long. 
  • I am getting addicted to online shopping. Or for now, online cart-filling.
  • I buy bubble wands et al saying it's for my kid, but I'm the one blowing bubbles all day long :)
  • I am a bit of a snob for brands but it's under control now. I think. I hope. Erm...not really.
  • AND...I am narcissistic enough to go back and re-read this meme even after I post it here and cross-post it on FB and Twitter :)
  • Current Music
    humming childrens songs to myself
  • Tags

aww jeez

 I was worried that I'll be fanning my ignorance quite a bit by forgoing the newspapers altogether but a quick glance at them has assured me am not really missing much.

It's not quite so much as news as an announcement of the end being near. Take a look all around- honor killings up, scams are in they heyday, political parties are the jokers with the Indian Government providing the 3 ring circus. What does get the space in the papers are announcements of the Fresh Faces in the city colleges where self-proclaimed celebs go and shake a leg and lecture impressionable young'uns on personality and grooming. While their grooming and personality (or lack thereof) is highly suspect or airbrushed for the print media :)

I sometimes read my papers a day late since my son loves to paper our house and Red always takes off with the Sport pages first thing in the morning. While gathering the papers from last night's yay-ness I came across a news feature of a German porn star who died after her 6th boob job went bust! Literally and please don't excuse the pun. Hmm...that did grab my attention because the girl in question really was just a girl and 23 years old.

Hell at 23 if a person can generate that kind of income, why not live it up? What good would 800 gms boobs (each 800 gms mind you) do to a person except make them more susceptible to gravity a WHOLE lot more? And now she's dead. Fatal beauty anyone?

This isn't a homily on the evils of x,y,z. It's been so long since I read the papers and found something genuinely informative. And felt up to date on the happenings around me.

It's either the verbal skirmishes between the politicos in A.P that make the front page or the Naxals or the scams...and honestly all they make me think of is that people are inept. They do just enough to show that they have Johnsons and then they back off.
I get it, the machinery moves slowly. But for everything? The people who have the most influence and the potential to actually act seem to be mainly posturing and and everything is just for show.

Want to get something done, throw down and the gauntlet and see where that takes you and stand your ground! Things aren't that stable anyhow whether it's in the state or the central government. Or for that matter for most things.

The last few 'newsworthy' things I remember reading about my city and state either involve political fluctuations, political gripes, suicides, dogs mauling infants, slums, citizens grievances against the local governing bodies. And the list bloody keeps going on and on.

And it's the same thing the next day. It's a template of sorts if you will.

Small wonder then that I play escapist and read the comics, smirk at page 3 and get right back to my books.

Cynical but it works.
  • Current Mood
    apathetic apathetic

The Hard&Soft of it all...

 Right from the time my son was born, I was struck by how delicate he was. I knew babies are vulnerable and helpless but this one seemed to embody those qualities and more.

He was a thin baby, weighing just on this side of an acceptable birth weight but he never lacked spunk.

That 'scrawny' baby's learnt to run now and also balance himself on his toes to reach heights hitherto out of his reach.

One thing that's absolute about children is that you NEVER know what they'll do next. If you think there's a line they haven't crossed yet, they always manage to cross it and then some! So if you threaten your kid with that 'last straw that breaks the camel's back', you'd better be prepared to have a whole herd of camels waiting out there. Your offspring will find plenty more straws and with it plenty of camels' backs too.

I used to think of little children (infant to toddler stage) as being fragile but it's us as parents who're fragile methinks. The kids are resilient and how! They fall, they bleed, they sprout bumps here, there and everywhere and they still keep going even after the tears have left tracks on their face.

And speaking of tracks, while you may not need therapy to get over the minor cuts and nicks on your child; it definitely takes some doing to see your child hurt and you not being able to prevent it. And some things do stay with you. Whether it makes you a better parent or a hovering one is anyone's guess.
And by the time you're over the initial trauma and your monkey is again gallivanting off for newer places to fall down from; you tell them what's sure to become your motto in life- "Don't cry! You wanna cry? I'll give you something to cry about if you dare do something like this (fill in blank with your pet peeves about your kid) ever again!!!"

And you go on. Both of you...sometimes with one chipped tooth, a brief black and blue mark and you with a near-paranoid obsession for stuff your child could hurt yourself on again. But you do go on.

And before you know it, they're onto newer things, more things they could make hurtful for themselves and with you still trying to be their life-long safety net and catch them before they fall. But that's not to be...what is to be their ever-growing curiosity, activity and ability to bounce back each time.

Amen to that! The rest will keep I suppose :)


“Vengeance is mine, and I will repay.”
Or something to that extent I imagine must have passed by an old chappie's lips when four loud, boisterous kids from his neighborhood would filch his precious stack of clothes pins and make them disappear day after day..

The more he complained to his neighbors (the parents of the brats) the more clips kept disappearing. They'd go off the clothes line and end up in the oddest places, like the water tank. Which after a point of time seemed to verily have more clips lying at the bottom than coins in the Trevi Fountain itself!

Anyhow, he'd rant and rave and often cuss at them, not that they gave a hoot! It was fun to see the crusty old man finally move his potato sack of a body off the swing and lumber after them. Else it was the swing where he sat, day after day and made it squeak,squeak and squeak as if it was his life's purpose.

The brats didn't know that the irritable man who always told on them was actually retired and wanted nothing more to sit on his swing and sip from his stainless steel glass of booze that would remain undetected in that wettest of dry lands. So the sight of children causing a ruckus put a cramp in his guzzling plans indeed!

And if he stayed compliant and ignored them, he would have to face the task of answering his not so little woman who would wonder about the regular disappearance of her clothes pins.

Cut to present day- one of the brats is grown up now. Somewhat. When she finished her laundry today and went to hang up the innumerable little things that her child grows through daily, she found that she wasYET AGAIN short of clipsies..!
How she gnashed her teeth and wished that for once her beloved dumpling would throw something else off the balcony or find other things to confiscate instead of the oh-so important clips...

And while seething and doubling up the clothes (since there weren't enough clips to go around) she thought of a curmudgeon whose clips she and her fine companions would to love to chuck into the water tank or use as marks to get badams off the tree.

And then it came home to her...what goes around definitely comes around. And there was plenty more coming her way...!


 There are times (unfortunately they come around waaay too often) that curveballs get chucked your way.
Whether you've stepped up to plate or intend to play or not, a curveball comes whizzing along.
Now you can either duck or play it but I guess you can only duck so often. It's your best bet to try your hand at it at least once. Strangely enough these curveballs are vested with the genetic make-up of heat seeking missiles and tend to follow you around till they go KABLOOOEY! on your or another target. But a KABOOM's a given!

I know it seems tres cryptic but there are times when vagaries keep rattling in your head and it would take too much effort, history and detail to explain it to another individual. So a mysterious blog post kind of takes the edge of the whirly-gig that's been sent after you.

Or the oddity of the prose here could arise from zip, zero, zilch sleep and not nearly enough of stimulants in my blood on this fine and chilly Saturday morning.

Naah...vagaries are better. Vagaries of madcaps are even better sounding.
But I'll be damned if it doesn't feel good to get this stuff out of my head.

PS: On an entirely unrelated note and in my usual digressing fashion-books will take the cake over their movie counterparts any day. A person's prose and thoughts sometimes ought not to be portrayed over the visual medium...the grizzliness gets diluted. It's better in the recesses of the mind where things fester more under the mortar and pestle of our thoughts...

Here endeth the lesson

Out of the Mouths of Babes....

 "The real menace in dealing with a five-year -old is that in no time at all you begin to sound like a five-year-old"
- Jean Kerr

And now imagine that the child in question isn't 5 but a bit over 1 and rapidly gurgling away in his own lingo. That's what Red's father discovered a few nights back...
I was blogging and overhead this conversation between the FIL and the offspring-
They were watching Animal Planet air a program on tigers. In Telugu tigers are called Puli and dogs are called Kukka. My son recognizes other animals well enough when he wants to, but watching them live or moving about on t.v. somehow makes everything a 'kukka' in his eyes.

So he exclaimed, KUKKA! The FIL said no no, PULI and the tug of war between KUKKA and PULI went on for some more time till FIL cried uncle and gave up.

So Kukkas ruled the day and the kid won.
I could've told my FIL that but why ruin the fun?
It's good to see someone else get licked by the human energizer bunny for a change!

To Ferberize or Not to Ferberize..

 There's no question..Ferberize..!!

When my son was quite a bit younger and Red and I were still patrolling our room like night watchmen, we were advised to Ferberize him and Ferberize him good!

It was less to do with my being maternal and more to do with a child who didn't understand much of what was going on around him and his two main supports just up and leaving him to cry. So we decided against it and it's only of late that we've felt that the decision was largely an emotional one and not a logical one.

Now that the offspring can practically run around and has given into his intrinsic urge to climb everything climbable, he detests being restrained in any manner unless he's assured of perpetual motion and entertainment. Yeah right! What do I have? Cirque du Soleil in my livingroom? Pshaw!
Anyhow, in order to go and do anything at all these days means having him as my shadow. Normally I wouldn't mind a shadow as cute as him and neither would I mind the constant babble an irritant, but the reaching of his often extends to things harmful for him and a refusal leads to feet stamping and whining.

I can't stand whiny kids. I cant stand mine a tad bit more because he's the cutest most aww le mummum baby in the whole wide world. But even then it's really pushing it when it goes on beyond a point.

So today I left him in his cot and walked around doing some stuff around the house and ignored him. When he started to screech and get red in the face I walked out of the room and half closed the door behind me. He retaliated by gagging himself. When that didn't work ( I peeked to make sure he wasn't throwing up) he finally pulled out the Brahmastra! he called to me plaintively and said "Mamma"...damn that kid! He's good. But I'm better...marginally.

I took him out of his cot expecting to be hugged and exchange kisses and clean his runny nose, when Lo and Behold! The lil dumpling laughed through his tears and clapped his hands.

Now, in time every kid learns that you shouldn't mess with the Mommy person. And so did my kid. But being the ace that he is, am sure that particular point will have to be reinforced daily for the next 2 weeks, at least!
I promptly put him back in the cot, picked up a novel and sat right in front of him reading and oh! did I mention I got myself some tea to add insult to the injury?
So there I was, sipping, reading and ignoring to my heart's content.

He stamped his feet, held his breath, banged his chin against the cot rails and then quietened down and played with his toys till he really got sleepy. Tiny arms were then held out and truce was declared and the Geneva Convention between mother and son was signed.

He now sleepeth and I am left, yet again, marveling at how far ahead kids can think!
But it's like I told Red later, if the kid's old enough to plot how to bamboozle, then he's jolly well old enough to be hoisted on his own petard!

But on a less vengeful note, it makes sense I think for a child to be able to self-soothe. Not because I'm not going to be around or because if I nurture him now it'll spoil him for life. No. The earlier he can self-soothe the faster his own comfort occurs he's a happy baby again. It never hurts to be able to take care of yourself. Even from the cradle onwards.

Now lemme go cry to my mommy about the hard knocks in my life ;)

Turn of the Decade

It's far more the 'done thing' to be in the turn of a century but decades arrive faster so here's how the last decade revolved for me..
  • Stayed away from my folks for the 1st time and got to know independence to some extent.
  • Finished my education (the ones which come with certificates that announce the conclusion of something- the actual one continues)
  • Found my best friend+1.
  • Worked and came to realize that education hadn't really prepared me for much. A lot of it was touch and go, touch and feel and just learn on the job types.
  • Finally put down roots- in more ways than one.
  • Had a kid.
  • Found ambition.
  • Let ambition take a back seat.
  • Understood my parents. Just a bit more.
  • Detested some things.
  • Loved some more.
  • Didn't travel much.
  • Reconnected with the ones who mattered at the right time.
  • Realized that some goodbyes are meant to be forever whereas others are transient at best.
  • Learnt to slow down somewhat and smell and lot more than just roses.
  • Let go of my caffeine dependence (YAY!!)
  • Got to know myself a bit more via my child.
  • Realized that some of the 7 deadly sins aren't really that deadly...just to be indulged in moderately.
  • Began to dream again...about life, about me about tomorrow.

The Genesis of Coffee in my life

 Just got to sit down with a cuppa. The FIL and the offspring are watching something Hindi on t.v. I know the t.v.'s on because my son's occasionally clapping during the ads and because he doesn't need me right now :)

Of course with other people around he seldom does need me within sight. Also, the tummy's fed with creamy, apple mush so he's a happy camper.

Oh yes, coffee...I first tasted coffee when my piano teacher made me drink a sip of her burning hot black coffee during a particularly cold winter day. It was after school and it had snowed and my brain and fingers were both numbed. I kept skipping the beat on a piece of music and she got annoyed with me big time! When I told her I couldn't keep my eyes open she handed me her Styrofoam cup and told me to have a sip.
After that I not only kept the beat but picked up the tempo a bit alarmingly :)

I stayed up all night too...! My mother was livid! I was bouncing around too much for her good.

And it was coffee all the way after that. Everyday before going to school. It was the only way I'd have milk. And occasionally when Ma would have her stronger coffee, she'd give me a sip and augmented the taste even further.

During high school I used to need a sip of coffee before my eyes would open during the Rajasthan winters. And the fact that 12th was just around the corner didn't help my sleep cycle either. The more I slept, the farther it seemed.

During college days it was numerous cups of a bad-tempered Chechi's weak-ass coffee that I drank. My best friend would take a look at my face on certain days and straight away march me to the canteen before saying a word to me. At the paying guest accommodation I used to stay in, it was an understood thing between the Aunty and myself that whoever got up first would put the coffee in the filter. Usually we'd reach there at the same time.

Coffee has been a part of the most intense times in my life. Either I or the person/people I was with was chugging it with gusto.
It has been part of lovely mornings where there was no one around except me and the milkwala :)
It has been part of rainy days, evenings, it was one of the 1st things I begged my obstetrician to let me have when I was pregnant!
It was one of the 1st things I craved for once I began to have my usual diets post partum.
I even used to take coffee beans from the CCDs and Baristas I'd go to and keep them in my purse/wallets for the tang to hit me when I next opened it.
I've gone tipsy and barfed my guts out on coffee flavored liqueur as well. So I guess coffee and I have gone the distance :)

Sometimes the blacker and sharper the taste it got, the more it reflected my mood. Other times, the sweeter tasting Viennese, cinnamon lattes also found a place depending on the whimsies I was feeling.

I now find that when I have a break for myself I make a cuppa and just curl up somewhere and first take in the aroma of the coffee before taking a sip.

I guess it's become a part of my everyday...and now for the perfect closing to this blog...

*sips the coffee*