Tag Archives: mothers

Why I don’t get lost more often!

sketchpad10Many stories are incomplete many dialogues are interrupted.

I wish I had said that,
I wish I had kissed him,
I wish I had stayed back a little more,
I wish I had gone a little further…

We often wonder what if … many such what if’s and why not’s!

I often wonder what if I had stayed back in Omaru (New Zealand) and got lost with the penguins. What if I sneaked out of the bed and took a flight to Amsterdam to meet Van Gogh. Often in the traffic on the way to office, I feel just go … go straight to the airport and take the next flight out to anywhere.

I always did whacky, all the time…

Suddenly took off to Lonavala (a nearby hill station) from Bombay rather than going to college to meet my love.

Landed up at a friends place midnight to say sorry and then drove back 50 miles.

Kept my friends waiting at home on my birthday and treated the street urchins to yummy chocolate cakes in a fancy Bistro.

Drove straight to Pushkar from Delhi 300 miles! It was better than standing in the long queue for those movie tickets.

Walked out of the hospital after a surgery and hours later I was in a meeting & next gorging at my favorite Kakori Kebaabs!

Went for a trip with office staff and then suddenly took off  to a nearby desert, calling my boss that I will not be turning up for work for the next few days!

Crept out of bed midnight and took the early morning flight in my pajamas to meet my love!

Sold my gold earrings and gave all the money to a boy singing in the train for medicine for his little sister and told my mom that I lost my earrings.

Resigned from my job one day and went to watch Vertical Limit with a friend and end up getting another job in the movie intermission.

Blew all my bank balance … got reduced to Rs 3/- and then called a friend with that from a pay phone and signed up a big deal!

Kicked a drunkard from a moving bus in dark hours in Ghaziabad! (Not very safe for girls in the night, rather anytime!)

Danced with a friend in a stranger’s wedding and ended up taking pictures and video’s … I am sure they will be wondering who the hell am I?

Go for a Christmas party and end up Proposing!

We all have stories and those whacky moments … I have endless

I never thought twice before saying or doing anything … then why now?

Have I lost my spark! that spunk or have I stopped living (at the edge)
Have I sobered, have I got domesticated?
Nope I don’t think so. I still fall in love everyday…

Now I just trip to see my little angel’s face everyday, to hug her all sweaty and smelly when she is back from school. All cuddled in bed with her, I don’t feel like creeping out. Now I like to dance with her rather than dancing in stranger’s wedding. Intoxicated with her smell and touch
…  She’s my Trip!

I know soon she will take off … and I will too!


Poster Baby!

After watching a Unicef commercial on TV, I told Xia (my seven year old daughter), that I really want to save a dying child. I really want to help a child and not simply send a donation without knowing what happened to it and did it actually save that kid in the commercial.

Suddenly a face floated across my mind, she was one of my many maids!

The day I hired her, a tall, thin lanky lady with protruding cheekbones and that typical pigmentation on her cheeks and nose (often happens to ladies in pregnancy).

Now I forget her name! And I do not want to call her by any other!

She was standing at my doorstep, looked quite sad and malnourished but had a brilliant smile on her face. It was that smile that started our relationship. I quickly hired her without checking any of her details. I was in a desperate need for a maid after Xia’s birth and there was too much work with very little help around.

The day she arrived she ate and she just ate! I thought probably that was a meal in many days! She was quick in her work and eager to help. Few days later I chatted her up and I got to know that she lived in the nearby Basti (a slum dwelling) and was abandoned by her family. Why? Cause her husband and in-laws wanted a boy child and she was a mother of two daughters! Where are they? I mean the daughters, I asked her… she had left them with her sister and had come to Delhi to work. She lived alone in the Basti in a small rented home. All this sounded very typical to me. This is what happens all the time, with poor people; was all that I thought.

What’s are your daughter’s names? “Katrina and Kareena,” she smiled! I smiled back and got back to changing Xia’s diapers.

Slowly the eagerness and briskness was turning into lethargy and slackness. All her vigor was thinning away. I often found her napping and now she looked healthier, with stomach bloating. Mamma (my mom in-law) came home visiting and she mentioned that my maid seems quite healthy than what she was! Even I realized the change in her… slowly that stomach grew bigger and bigger in the next two months! That ringed a bell! Is she pregnant? Yes she was, I had to confront her and the story spilled out that she was pregnant for the third time and that was the reason her leaving home. She feared that if it were a daughter again than she definitely knew that her in-laws would kill her little one! To escape this she had come to the Basti.

I did not know what to do? How can I hire a pregnant lady to help with my baby? Soon she will have hers! It’s not fare to make her work hard. She needs rest but she needs money too. If I ask her to leave she will work someplace else and probably even harder. I did not know what to do? She was seven months!

After a lot of contemplation and reluctance, I decided, she needs to go. I called her and made her understand that she needs to rest and not work so hard; her baby needs to be healthier. I gave her money, much more for her to survive till her delivery and asked her to go. Told her that she can always walk back once her baby and she are fit! She cried and howled, she did not want to go but I had to.

She was long forgotten and I got another maid from the same Basti, Asha, a cute chubby girl of sixteen. Asha and Xia bonded well. They often went to the park for a stroll in the afternoon.

One such afternoon our guard called up asking that there was a lady at the gate, crying and she wanted to meet me. Perplexed I asked the guard to send her up. The bell rang and there “She” was, once again. This time a tear rolling down her cheek but the brilliant smile was still there! She said the only person that came to her mind was me! My daughter is dying please help me!

I do not know what happened to me, I grabbed her hand, and walked straight to my car and asked my driver to take us to her Basti! I was in my pajamas and my driver was clueless. We kept meandering the small lanes of the never ending Basti. She kept directing my driver and it just did not end. Finally we were out of the Basti in the open fields and there on the outskirts were some ruins and broken huts… she asked to park the car there. I asked her where is your child … in that ruins. I ran inside that hut and there lay a small girl child wrapped up in an old sari. The child was not moving. She just lay there motionless. I feared she was dead. Her mother ran and shook her up… finally the child started moving and whimpering! I sighed!

The child looked like any of those poster babies that ask for donations to save a child! Malnourished, boney with big hungry eyes! Very easy to conjure up an image!

We quickly sat in the car and sped to closest clinic near my home. I walked into the reception and when I was asked for the patients name I was just going say Xia and then I realized that this time it was not my little one but somebody else’s. I did not know her name? We just wrote baby in the registration form.

I quickly ran up to my pediatrician. She asked to calm down. She looked at the baby and clenched her nose. I realized that there was a stink from the wrapped sari, probably it was not washed for a long time and the baby had diarrhea. The baby had no nappy, no diaper. She had soiled the sari. The doctor asked the nurse to clean her up and she quickly gave her saline and some antibiotics! The baby slept peacefully.

My pediatrician pulled me aside, she asked me who’s child was that? I realized that my maid was still in the car with my driver. She was too scared to come up with me, in that fancy looking clinic. I explained to the doctor that she was my maid’s daughter. My doctor questioned me that why did I come to this hospital? I could simply take this child to the nearby government hospital! Government Hospital? Where was that? I did not know, and why not this place? She said that its foolish of me to spend money on this child, such kids do not survive for long!

By this time my maid had gathered courage to come up with my driver. The doctor advised her to take good care of her child’s hygiene and medicines.

I bought all the prescribed medicines from the pharmacy and handed them to my maid.

Few hours later I dropped my maid back to her Basti with her soundly sleeping child and gave her some money that would keep her going for some months.

I just sat in my car and meandered out of the Basti!


Mom’s the word!

I know mother’s day is yet to come but my little thank you comes a little early!

My Darling, damp mummy is a hard core romantic and a live wire! Today I am really grateful to this aspiring mom who gave us all that she had to make what we are today! Best of the fashion, best of the schools, best of the college and today best of her prayers!  I know every mom does that, but trust me my mummy is special, nobody does the way she does … true Bollywood style!

My play school (you all know from the forbidden forest) was one of most sought after schools in Mumbai. They said that if you got through this one then you are sorted for life! A bit exaggerated, I know.

Mummy too wanted her daughters to study in this playschool with the forbidden tree and a leaking fountain, but ….yes every story has a ‘but’ and without these ‘buts’ you never reach anywhere! Well our ‘but’ was the principle of this playschool, Ms. Kanga. (A petite Parsi lady in pretty sleeveless frocks and varicose veins.) Ms. Kanga had a rule that all the kids admitted in her school should have ‘English speaking’ parents! Well, mummy and pappa both were well educated ‘but’ in ‘Gujarati medium’!

‘English speaking’, ‘Gujarati medium’, these terms I am sure we all Indians (who live in many states and speak many languages with many dialects!) know very well!

‘But’ mummy did not give up. The application form was rejected and mummy stormed straight into Ms Kanga’s office. Ms. Kanga refused to budge and so did my mummy! The decibel levels went high and one can imagine how high when one Parsi* lady argues with another Gujarati* lady! Mummy was shown the door but mummy being mummy refused to budge from her place. She decided to stay putt in front of the school gate next to my forbidden forest tree! Standing in the hot sun, in the admission month of June.

To add to the drama, Mr. Rain Gods also decided to add some special effects in the already filmy scene. Mummy got completely drenched and soaked in that already damp maxi, but she did not budge! She stood there right in front of the school gate with Ms. Kanga’s office window open.

Mummy’s stunt worked, Ms. Kanga, really got moved. (these Parsi’s* don’t watch a lot of Bollywood movies. They are still stuck with ‘Gone with the winds!’). Ms. Kanga rushed out with a towel to dry mummy up. She got her in her office, dried her up and quietly handed her the admission form!

p.s. Years later my cousin visited the same play school for her child’s admission. She mentioned my mummy to Ms. Kanga (who was really frail and old now) and she still had memories of mummy. She told my cousin that, I have never ever come across a Mother like her in my 80 years!

*Disclaimer: offense regretted.



%d bloggers like this: