Cafeteria Musings

My organization offers flexi-timings and work-from-home options. Huge benefits, if you ask me, especially for young mothers. Some days I end up eating lunch alone at the office cafeteria,  Being part of a globally dispersed team does not mean not having colleagues but there are days when none of whom you interact with are around.

Its might be unthinkable for many but I enjoy these occasional periods of solitude. It gives one the time to observe people around you, how each one differs in their dress, mannerisms, how they address one and other, the team dynamics and so on. And at times one inadvertently ends up being privy to amusing conversations, snippets of information that makes your meal-times fun.

There is this team who lunch with their manager who has quite a formidable personality. It is really amusing to see them being led to the dining table and after a quiet lunch walk away almost like school kids. There is one vibrant boisterous attention-grabbing crowd whose lunch sessions are replete with guffaws, jokes and gaiety. Its spring for them throughout the year, I suppose. The food is secondary, they walk-in and immediately own the place.

My favourite is to observe the couple doing the dating dance. One of them usually reserves a chair for the other, they partake even canteen food, generous with offhanded compliments on everything about the other (if the relationship is new) or tease incessantly which makes the other blush and yet they enjoy the attention. The ritual hardly changes even if they are among a crowd of twenty people. Oblivious to the world around them. :)

And then there are the usual girl gangs who love to bitch about everything under the sun. Conversations can start of with the railway budget, movie or UP politics and ends in some kind of rant (personal or professional). This groupie's carry elaborate lunches in multi-colored boxes, take the time to actually warm the food in microwaves and discuss the recipes of the curry. Given a chance they would love to combine the lunch and coffee-time if not for something called the work-break. :)

And lastly there are the perpetual lone wolfs. You can recognize them from a mile. Don't want to generalize but they mostly are the bespectacled-nerds who smile at their smart phones or are busy grasping their tablets mindless of what is in their plate. You can confound and intimidate them by simply asking if the seat next to them is free.

People analytics is more fun than data analytics, I say :)

Later is Now.

Children in their own inexplicable way end up teaching some of life's biggest lessons to us. The other day my son wanted me to play with him, while I was busy on my laptop. His pleas started getting persistent and I tried to shoo him away with different errands. So he got me a cup of water, arranged the cushions on the sofa and piled the day's newspaper and was back to ask me to play with him.

Again he started coaxing: "Mamma, mamma come to play na."
Me busy tapping on the keyboard: "Later, Avyukt"
Avyukt: "Mamma, come now"
Me (a little firmly): "Later. I said later right?"
Defiantly he says: "Later is now, mamma"

Those words struck a chord in me. We do postpone most of the things that we actually want to do to a later time. I will tend to my gardren - later. I will clean the cupboard - later. We'll watch a movie - later. Its never now. I guess we learn to postpone small things that bring us joy in the hope that once the bigger must-do's are done with we will find the time. But those things are never completely done and our small wishes remain just that - wishes.

I closed my laptop and without a word went to play 'train-train' with my son. We pulled the dining chairs in a row and had great fun. He was exhausted and asleep in about 30 minutes. I felt an elation seeing him asleep peacefully. All the laurels, hikes, letters of praise will not equal the simple joy of seeing a smile light up your child's face.

Our Misadventures In Parenting

That my boy has settled down at his school and well-adjusted to his routine has knocked one worry off my list. On day 1, it was alarming to see my little boy with a dangling satchel in tow, trudge almost half-a-mile from the school gate, cross the tiny little bridge in his campus and climb a flight of stairs to reach his class on his own. For a mother who has him chaperoned even at the play swing, this was akin to seeing him take-off on his first space mission. Its a different story how we actually followed him on the pretext of talking to his teacher, hovered near his class, pretended to be busy on the phone when some teacher passed by and stalked his return van journey for a week. Its with some conviction I can say that we have also managed to settle down. Today, two months down the line, its a matter of pride when Avyukt returns home with a skip in his step and a new tale to tell.

First week, he was full of stories of the 'brown boy'. "Who is this brown-boy, Avy? Is he your friend?" "No. Brown boy sits next to me."
"What's his name?" Thinks hard for some time and says exasperatedly "Brown boy, mamma." Makes a poker face and says, "He looks like this no? He only is brown-boy" I pretend I understand him.

Friday he returns to say "Mamma, I pulled the jhuttu (ponytail) of Khushita" Worried I asked, "But why??" "She follows me everywhere, mamma. And today she went ahead of me in the play slide"
Huh uh! Is this supposed to mark the birth of the proverbial male ego? I tried to explain to my best how such behaviour won't fetch him any friends. Alas! He seemed defiant when it came to Khushita going ahead of him.

The other day he proclaimed the moment he jumped off his van, "Mamma, you know Veer is a boy!" Okay. A minute later, he continues in a higher octave, (Maybe he did not get the reaction he was expecting from me) "Mamma, mammma, Veer is a BOY!" "Oh! thats wonderful sweetheart. Er, how did you know?" and braced myself for an answer. Smugly he replied "Dhruv told me."

A week back Avy comes running late in the night, "Mamma, papa is telling all bad words." Giving an accusatory glance at his dad I ask, "What did papa tell, dear?" "Papa saying, go to bed" :|

Last evening Avyukt was busy with his "dip & dab" painting session at the dining table and in the process knocked a few items to the floor. Hubby reprimanded him telling he needed to be more careful or could end up hurting himself. Seeing Avy upset he tried to lighten the situation with a mock cry and pretended to imitate him. Mishearing Avyukt muttering to himself, hubby came down harsh on him again and said - Avyukt! No using bad words. How dare you say "bloody fellow?" Blah Blah..

Avyukt looks up perplexed at his dad and meekly says, "I said baby-fellow, papa. You crying like baby" Hubby looks sheepishly at me and tries to slink away. My smile wanes, as I hear Avy retrospectively muttering - "bleedy feelowh?"
Sigh!

As I write this, I hear him trying to convince his grandmom that he is a *real* doctor and he needs to operate her eye. He is upset she keeps cowering from him and wants her to keep her eye open as he operates on her with a bottle-opener and some Johnson Baby cream!

We are only a month away from welcoming Avy's sibling to our warm fuzzy world and I am filled with excitement, wonder, and worries of the days ahead. Please wish us luck.

I am happy and I want you to believe that

If you're happy and you know it, post an update
If you're happy and you know it, upload a photo
If you're happy and you know it...

These days people actually have so little to say and so many ways (read social media) to say it. My timeline on Twitter talks of what one had for his breakfast, who bought the best brand of vinegar, or when they plan to cross the road. There are yet others who, for the want of a few 'Likes' and flowery comments, bare their entire lives on Facebook for all and sundry.

Maybe it's the inherent human need to be appreciated, but it hardly stops there. From there stems the need to be looked up to, and maybe that's why one comes across pompous status updates where they claim to eternally live in paradise or have professionally reached the pinnacle! Sure. Smirk. smirk.

In the constant need for validation and reassurances, I wonder if they are even living the moment fully. The parties that one attends, the sumptuous food one eats in fancy restaurants, the dresses one shops for are all updated for the benefit of the rest of the world. All in a bid to show a happy and successful face to the world.

I have to say it once again, though - nothing meaningful to share and yet so many means to do that. And this is one of my classic excuses for not being able to blog more regularly. 

In a cheeky mood, and hence this post. Don't mean to judge anyone or their life choices

My poor little squished ego

Of all the delusions that I may have, the one I definitely do not carry is that of my singing capabilities. I am no Lata Mangeshkar or Asha Bhosle, but that is plain knowledge, and I definitely am not a female voice version of Anu Malik either. Now why am I raising this all of a sudden?

My son has caught the seasonal flu and is at home at the time when I leave to work. It's not called the age of 'terrible twos' without reason. So for the past few days he runs up to me, clings, and starts bawling, saying I am not supposed to leave him and go to work. I then cajole him, make up stories of a bad boss who will be bad to mamma if I don't work, and end up making lots of promises to take him to his fav jhoola park; malls, etc and feeling wretched, leave home.

Well, today was no different except that sonny boy was half sleepy with droopy eyes. So I thought why not sing him a lullaby of sorts, and then I can make a clean exit while he has sweet dreams. With such good intentions, I cradled him and, for whatever reason, the only song I could think of at that time was "Khwaja Mere Khwaja". I had just about crooned two lines of it when he mumbled - 'Mamma padathey'. Of course, what a stupid song to sing to a baby. I decided on my personal fav "Thode badmash ho tum" from Sawaariya. Within minutes, my sleepy boy says - Mamma Padathey. Mamma don't sing. Each letter a little more pronounced than I would have liked to hear.

Silence.

I slid him into the arms of my much-amused mother and, embarrassedly muttering that it was getting late for the office, I booted from there. Babycenter lies when it says kids love to hear their mom sing and they don't mind off-key notes. I have now realised what they mean when they say "my family is my best critic".

My boy is ill and possibly wanted some quiet. Bad choice of songs, maybe. 

Hmm, I think I need to learn some good lullabies soon.

Marriage and everything else...

He early on let her know who is the boss. He looked her right in the eye and clearly said, "You're the boss." -- Anonymous

And that I say, is the key to most happy married life. ;) But jokes apart marriage has a away of growing upon you. Its a wonder what good companionship can actually do. In the age where quarter-life-crisis is the norm, 5 years of being married (with a child in tow) can be considered close to eternity. And going by this standard, it qualifies me to get a little preachy too.

However am not going to abuse my reader's sensibilities by stating the mundane of not stepping over each other's toes or ask to whisper sweet nothings all the time. Heck, there are times when all you would want is whack your spouse for mulling over a lost wicket while your child is contemplating using the sofa cushion as his potty-seat.

Marriage is just like - say shopping. You itch to wear that new outfit at every given opportunity till the sheen wears off. Not saying you discard your spouse like a well-worn dress, rather with the passage of time it gives the same comfiness of wearing your snug-fit old jeans. Bad comparison but conveys the message.

Sure its all cream and dream when things are going your way but life is adept at throwing the seemingly impossible situations. Do not pretend that he has no flaws or delude yourself that giving in just to avoid squabbles will lead to marital bliss.
Children, in-laws, finances, career, friends, personal priorities etc are all factors that only compounds the issue. Being good at either tennis or badminton and mastering different serves can sure come handy. :p Actually there is no single solution for a happy marriage, especially in today's times when there is so much extra pressure from all corners.

A good friend of mine is contemplating an affair just to get back at his super busy wife who hardly has time for him. Another ex-colleague of my hubby divorced his wife on grounds of cordiality. She refused to return to his house after the delivery of her son and he promptly divorced her. Today he has remarried and has another child. An old schoolmate's husband ditched her for another since he could not handle the responsibilities of being a father! These are real people and not a figment of any imagination.

It is the age of instant gratification where even advertisements goad you to move on, even so it makes one wonder if relationships are so fickle afterall? Its funny actually when I narrate them to my mom and my grandmom who have been married for more than half a century put together.I agree it helps not to judge others and possibly they all had their own valid reasons but it sure is unnerving. A friend of mine who is single surmised the other day "Marriage is definitely not for the faint-hearted, you know". I laughed and brushed aside her worries but maybe it means something.

Having said all this the joy of knowing there is somebody who loves you for what you are, without any reservations and will stand by you whatever may come, makes life worth living all over again. Here's wishing you all the same kind of happiness.

Hello, again

It's been quite some time since I visited this space, but today I strangely feel compelled to write here. Like renewing an old friendship, I come to say a quiet 'Hello' to the blogging world. Like when we meet old friends and promise to keep in touch, I silently promise myself to write more often. There are so many things one wants to say, but with a little passage of time, conversation comes not very easily.

As I write this, I hear my 2.7-year-old son humming - 'Papa jag jayega' on a loop. It makes me laugh and want to write stories of him. I look out of my window and see bright lights of vehicles dotting the darkness of an early night, painting a vivid digital picture for me. 

Life is indeed beautiful. It seems like the initial awkwardness of putting thoughts to words and the hesitation are already disappearing. 

With a self-assurance to make regular appearances out here - Ciao