A matter of time

Dearest Aishu baby,

I am SO sorry I lied to you. I had to. You clung on to me like a little monkey and said, "No, don't go. Don't go back, Mausi." I had no choice but to lie and tell you that I am going to see the doctor, hoping that would deter you. But you said you wanted to come along. It was only when your Mom said, "Mausi is going to get an injection! She'll come back soon." that you finally let go, but still giving me that half-believing look.

"I'll see you soon." I said. And I came back. Back to Singapore. Back to my crazy life. Your Mom told me you kept waiting for me and asking about me every day. Every time I look at this picture I'd taken on the toy train in the zoo that day, my heart breaks as I think about how I lied to you and made you wait.

Your Mom tells me that a few days later, you finally gave up on me and said, "Mausi went back to Singapore."

When I called you, you were not angry. I asked you, "When will you come to Singapore, Aishu?" and just like the many random things you say, you said, "I'll come at 3:30."

I don't know what that means. But whatever it does, I do know one thing.

I cannot wait for 3:30.

Lots of love,
Mausi

Story in pictures

So I was going through my 'bachpan box' when I came across it. Bound together and covered with what was obviously an advertisement from the 80s was one of my Amar Chitra Katha collections. It even had a label on it and written in possibly the world's worst handwriting was this.

NAME: Cuckoo (Dad calls me that. Quite apt, eh?)
STD: K.G. 1
SCHOOL/COLLEGE: St. Anne's Convent School
ROLL NO: 22

Kindergarten 1. That's like what... 1984? Wow. A quarter of a century has passed by, and yet when I flipped it open and started reading, I felt the same sense of wonder and fascination that I'm sure all of you who had the good fortune to read these comic books would be familiar with.

Birbal the wise. Bimbisara. Jayaprakash Narayan. Paurava and Alexander. Ahilyabai Holkar. Sambhaji son of Shivaji. Each priced at Rs. 2.50 (less than 10 cents). My sister and I had zillions of these books. Dad had got them bound into books that had about about 10 stories each. Going by how tattered the one I found was, I can only imagine the number of times I must have read it.

The artwork was simple, unlike the comic books of today, and the English was perfect, unlike the atrocious Chacha Chaudhry books they released in English, which were riddled with countless grammatical errors. The stories, mainly from history and mythology, were simply told, and yet captured the imagination like no textbook ever could.

Dad actually let me bring one back to Singapore. I'm totally having a blast swimming in nostalgia and refreshing my knowledge of mythology and history.

How great would it be if they did away with all the boring history textbooks and just had them Amar Chitra Katha style?

It's in the air

We had an overnight stopover at Kolkata during our recent India trip. Here are some airport and airplane snapshots:

• The Hindi signboard listing the items prohibited as cabin baggage included 'gada' (mace)!!! LOL! The gada would be checked in and returned to the passenger at the destination. I was reminded of the Mahabharata scene from Jaane Bhi Do Yaaron.
  
  
• The signboard listing the people exempt from security checks (e.g. Prime Minister, President, Dalai Lama, etc.) has Robert Vadra's name at the end. Hmmm...
  
  
• The Bengali announcements in the plane are too cute. The "ladies and gentlemen" part starts with "Bhodro mohila..." I don't think I have ever been called a bhodro mohila before! Mogambo khush hua.
  
  
• Another one. "Doya kori seat belt..." puts visions of the poor cabin crew going down on their knees and literally begging the passengers, "Take pity on us and put on your seat belts."
  
  
• There was a lady who was directing JetLite passengers to wherever they were supposed to go. At first I thought she was saying, "Jet-lagged passengers this way please." I started imagining the tired passengers being led to a huge room with comfortable beds and satin sheets.
  
  
• I cannot believe the two chaps in the domestic flight who were trying to flirt with the air hostess. If I had been in her place, I'd have rolled up the airlines magazine and thwacked the hell out of them.
  
  
• There was a large beautiful butterfly inside the airport. I was looking at it in amazement when -- believe it or not -- a cat walked past! Yes, a cat! Inside the airport. A clean one though. Walking around like it owned the place.

I suppose what they say is really true -- it happens only in India!

Composed by Burpy Lahiri

Mom-in-law, dad-in-law, sis-in-law and I are enjoying a popular old Hindi classical song that's playing in the car.

Enter Viv, who decides to translate a line from the song into English.

His translation: "Which hundred bodies have suppressed their burps?"

Can you guess the song?

Highlight the part between the * symbols for the answer.

Answer: *Kis soutan ne roki dagariya (the song is Raina beeti jaaye)*

Plan view

When Viv and I met bar-bewda Urv in May this year, we had never imagined that in a few months, he would move to the same city as my Dad was moving to after retirement. So when our India trip was planned, we decided to surprise everyone. Mom... Dad... and Urv too! I only took my sister into confidence since I had sprung the last one on her. You only get it once, that's my funda.

However, Mom's sixth sense started acting up. You know how Moms are born with that 'Mom instinct'? Actually they're not born with it, I guess they acquire it when we are born. Anyway, so Mom started hinting to Sis, "If she's coming, she should tell me, yes? Then I can prepare properly, yes?"

So my sister asked me to tell her because it wasn't looking like Mom was going to react the way we wanted her to anyway. She'd have probably opened the door and said, "Aa gaye tum log? Achha. Keep your shoes on that rack." Sheesh. So we told Dad and Mom that we were coming, and both of them reacted the same way, "Yeah, we were pretty sure you are coming." Double sheesh.

We decided to keep the Urv surprise on though. So I didn't mention anything on the blog about the India trip. In fact, I didn't even blog at all for fear of letting something slip. A week ago he had mailed asking when we were going to India next, and I mailed back saying that I had no concrete plans but he should drop by my place and meet my folks sometime.

The problem was convincing him to actually do it.

Me - Mom, acting karogi? Ek zabardast role hai.
Mom - Kyun nahin, main toh Meena Kumari hoon.
[Yeah, she likes to give me such nautanki answers when I ask her such nautanki questions.]

But when I gave her the script, she got cold feet.

Mom - Wait, who is Urv, again?
Me - He's a friend of mine.
Mom - School friend? University friend? Office friend?
Me - Internet friend, Mom. I met him through my blog.
Mom - Achha, he's your junior kya?
Me - Erm... Mom, there's no junior-senior with Internet friends.
Mom - Achha...
Me - So you'll do it? You'll call him?
Mom - WHAT?! NO!
Me - Mom, please! I have already written to him and told him that you want to invite him to lunch. You just need to call him and confirm, without letting him know that Viv and I are here. Just imagine his face when I open the door!!

She still wouldn't do it. "Baap re baap, no way!" She said.

Me - Meena Kumari would have never turned it down, you know. This is the role of a lifetime.
Mom - Nahin baba, I can't do it.

Viv - So now what? Who will call? Dad? Jeeju? Apa?
Me - Are you mad? If Mom can't pull it off, no one can.
Viv - Maybe I can call and pretend to be your Dad?
Me - Naah, won't work. He knows us. He'll see right through it. Let me try emailing him.

If we could convince Urv to come over, Viv had suggested that I open the door holding baby Aish and introduce myself with a "Hi, I'm Sayesha's sister. She has told me so much about you!" and watch the changing colours on the poor chap's face as he tried to figure out what the hell was happening.

So I emailed him, "Mom is asking ki mere ghar kab jaaoge. Why don't you go see them today or tomorrow?"

And I waited for his reply with crossed fingers. He replied saying he was in the middle of his exams and that he could drop by in the weekend instead. Yikes! We would be gone by the weekend!

Me - Sigh, okay fine, surprise ko maaro goli. Let's just call and tell him.

So I called him and as soon as he heard that we were all there, including baby Aish, he borrowed his friend's bike and came over. He didn't stay long as he had an exam the next morning (Urv, please pass ho jana!), but it was really really good to see him again.

Even though the 'surprise' hadn't quite gone pilan ke mutaabik.

Family drama

Snippets from the general madness in the house during my vacation:

Me - Where's my towel? Who took my towel??
Dad - Look for your towel later. Come, look at the pumpkins I have grown in the kitchen garden.

*ZAP* *ZAP* *ZAP*
(Viv was using the racket-like thingie that has taken the whole of India by storm, to annihilate the mosquitoes.)
Mom - Lo! Aa gaya, machharon ka yamdoot!

Baby Aish - I want to touch the touch-me-not. Where's my shteek? (another B.A.D. word [Baby Aish Dictionary word]. Dad has asked her to touch the touch-me-not with a stick to avoid the thorns.)

Mom - Whose tea is this??? It's stone cold!

Dad - And the neighbours stole the big pumpkin. I should have harvested earlier. I was waiting for it to become fully ripe and they stole it.
Me - Did you confront them?
Dad - I don't know which one of them did it. And that's why I can't come visit you in Singapore. You see? They'll just steal everything in my kitchen garden!
Me - You just need another excuse not to come see me!

*ZAP* *ZAP* *ZAP* *ZAP*

Mom - Who took my slippers into the pumpkin patch? Huh? They're all muddy now!
Me (sheepish) - Umm... I don't know!

Jeeju - And then you click on this icon here called 'Dataone'. And then...
Dad - Wait wait, let me write that down. Once you go back, I will forget everything.

Me - Wow, this dress is nice!
Sis - You want it?? Take it!!
Me - No no, I don't want it. I just think it's nice.
Sis - Are you sure?? If you like it, you can have it! Seriously!
Me - No Apa, I don't want to have it... it's nice, that's all.

Me - Viv! Mosquitoes in Apa's room!
*ZAP* *ZAP* *ZAP*

Jeeju - And then you click this icon here that says 'Internet Explorer'...
Viv - Or you can click the one that says 'Mozilla Firefox'.
Dad (to me) - So which one should I click?
Me - Will you people please stop confusing my poor Dad?

Baby Aish (to Viv) - Moucha, I want to play "Fly like an aeroplane".
Sis - Come, brush your teeth first!
Baby Aish - I don't want to brush my teeth. I want to play "Fly like an aeroplane".

Me - And where's my baby pictures' album??
Dad - This one!
Me - Why doesn't it have a sticker with my name like Apa's?
Dad - Errr...
Me - Special offer for first-born? Second-born gets no bhaav?

Mom - Seriously, whose tea is this??

Me (pointing to the showcase in the living room) - What on earth is this??
Mom - Don't ask me. Ask your Dad.
Dad - Arre! It's the statue of Liberty next to a statue of the Merlion. It's symbolic. It represents my daughters' locations.
Me - Hey bhagwaaaaan.....

Baby Aish - Mauchi, I want to play bubbles.
I start blowing bubbles while she jumps around bursting them.
Baby Aish - BEEEEG bubble! I want a BEEEEG bubble!
I blow a big bubble and two smaller ones.
Baby Aish (pointing to the small bubbles) - No I don't want the sad bubbles. I want the happy bubbles.
Me - Erm... Mausi is tired. Now you try, baby.
Baby Aish (disappointed at her sad bubbles) - When I become BEEEG, I will also make happy bubbles.

*ZAP* *ZAP* *ZAP*
Me - Viv, please stop destroying the bubbles with the racket and focus on the mosquitoes.

Me - And where is my favourite childhood book?
Dad - Which one is that?
Me (horrified) - You don't know which is my favourite childhood book?
Dad - Errr...
Me - I'm sure you know Apa's favourite childhood book?
Dad - Errr... no. Which one is yours?
Me - The Lost Girl and the Scallywags. I can't find it. Did you trash it????
Dad - I haven't trashed anything from the time I built this house!!
Mom (looking at all the half-opened cartons) - Sigh. Tell me about it.

Me - Viv, please take a bath...
Viv - Wait wait, Sehwag is on 47...

Mom - Will you people please close and lock your suitcases when you're not in the room? The kaam wali is new...

Dad - Somebody get the phone!

Aish - I want to watch Dora.
Sis - Dora doesn't come on Indian TV, Aish.
Aish - But I want to watch Dora!
Me - Come let's watch Bollywood trailers, Aish.
Aish - But I want to watch Dora!

Mom - I love these coffee mugs you got.
Me - Then why aren't you using them???
Mom - What if they break?!
Me - Ya allaaaaaaaaaaaaah!!!!!!!!!!

Me (examining baby Aish's tiny fingers) - Aishu, your fingers are soooo tiny and soooo cute. Mausi is going to eat them up! Should I eat them up? (making chomping sounds near her fingers)
Baby Aish - No no, put some sugar on them first. Then eat them.

Dad - Who has locked my mobile??
Me - I have. You should always lock it.
Dad - But why??
Me - Well, it will start dialing random numbers.
Dad - What?! How??
Me - If someone sits on it or something...
Dad - Why would anyone sit on my phone?????????
Me - Well, it could dial even if no one sits on it...
Dad - I have been using this phone for years now! It has never happened before. Why will it happen now??
Me - Errr...
Dad - How do I unlock it? I pressed 'Unlock' but nothing happened!
Me - You have to press the asterisk after pressing 'Unlock'.
Dad - Press the WHAT? You unlock my phone now. And don't lock it again.
Me - Sigh...

Mom (from kitchen) - Does he want more?
Me - More, Viv?
Viv - Nope.
Me (projecting voice towards kitchen) - No, he doesn't.
Mom - Are you sure?
Me - Yes.
Mom (comes out) - Some more, beta?
Viv - Yeah sure!
Mom (glaring at me) - See?
Me (glaring at Viv) - What the...?!

Settled down or settled for?

The Bhai sends a BEEEEEEG (word courtesy the Baby Aish Dictionary) apology to the bar and bewdas for suddenly going underground. I am now in India and would like to conveniently place the blame for the lack of posts on a certain individual who goes by the online (and offline) name Urv (more details on that will be in another post).

***

So my sis, Jeeju and baby Aish had to make a sudden trip to India a few weeks ago. My Dad immediately called Viv and me up and asked us to rush down too. "This will be a great occasion!" He said. You see, Jeeju and Viv had never met each other. Jeeju had not been able to make it to our wedding; in fact, this trip was his first to India in a decade. Dad had just retired a few months ago and having his entire family at the same place at the same time was indeed a very special occasion. So Viv and I rushed down for a quick holiday, first with my folks and then his, and also to visit other relatives in the area. 10 days, 5 cities. Only we know how we are doing it.

After years of living in the houses provided by his bank, Dad has finally moved to his own home. I had seen the place only once or twice but never properly. Now was the time to really explore everything that Dad had collected and stored over the years. Ancient cartons were opened and our childhood memorabilia were put on display. Some of them were rather touching, and some were just plain hilarious. I found my opinion diary from when I was in Std. V (1990) and the first one to write in that had been Mom. Viv was reading it and he suddenly burst out laughing. Then he went and showed that page to Jeeju who also burst out laughing. All of us crowded around curiously to see what the two of them were laughing at.

In the section 'My aim in life is:', Mom had written, "To get two brilliant sons-in-law."

Jeeju looked at Viv, grinned mischievously and then said to Mom, "Well, what can you do now?"

As heard on radio...

"Love is friendship set to music."

Not bad. :)

The pursuit of happiness

I don't even know how or where she learnt it, but baby Aish seems to have quite a good concept of 'happiness' and 'sadness'. When prompted to do some monkey-giri just for the amusement of her mausi at the other end of the line, she often responds positively when told, "If you sing, Mausi will become happy."

When I was in the US, I knocked my knee against something and was rubbing it when she came and said, "Mausi, don't be sad." even though I wasn't looking sad. (I just wasn't grinning at her as usual.)

Also, when I was packing to come back to Singapore, she was getting very upset, and kept saying, "Don't go, don't go back to Singapore!" It was only when my sister told her "If Mausi doesn't go back to Singapore, Mausa will become sad." that she calmed down and allowed me to come back.

Now that she's in India, she seems to be spreading the "happy thoughts" there too. In a rather odd way though. It seems that when Mom makes rotis, Aish observes her very closely. She looks at the ones that puff up real nice and says, "That's a happy roti!" and the ones that do not puff up are "sad rotis".

The right pick

She looked around at the crowd around her. "Unbelievable..." She shook her head and muttered to herself. But she needed the crowd for the work she was about to do. She scanned each face carefully, looking for the right one. She kept looking, ignoring the advice of the voices in her head that said, "You don't have to actively look for them, that will draw too much attention and the whole thing could backfire. If you scare them away, you will never be able to achieve anything. Just relax, okay? They will come to you on their own, trust us. You're getting a bit psychotic and obsessive about this, you know. It doesn't have to be such a dramatic battle in your head first. You're not the only person who does this. There are many people out there who do this on a daily level. If it has to happen, it will. If not, you just go about your usual business and come back."

She didn't agree. "I have to find them myself." She thought. There had been times she had failed and felt miserable. When she felt that the target was within arm's reach and yet, she couldn't do anything because of the sea of people between the target and her. She scanned the crowd once more, looking for the right one. It had to be someone old and frail, preferably a retiree. Any younger and/or stronger and yes, the whole thing could backfire. Preferably someone holding a large heavy bag, she thought. She looked at the people around her and shook her head in disapproval. None of them were suitable.

And finally, after a long long time, she found the perfect target, standing just a few feet away. Very old. Completely white hair. Very thin and frail. He was holding a large white plastic bag, and looked like he was struggling with the weight. "That's the one. Finally." She smiled to herself. And the best part was --- even though he was not looking at her, he was walking right towards her.

She got up, tapped him on the shoulder to get his attention, and said as the bus rocked again, "Uncle, you can have my seat."