Role Reversal

Jotting down scenarios where kids were playing ‘me’.

Kids and I come back home on a weekday. We remove our shoes, they place theirs on the shoe stand. But I forget to keep mine. Mannu says – “Mamma, joote stand pe rakha nahi kyu?” I apologize for failing to remember and put my shoes on the stand. And they applaud in chorus “That’s like a good girl”

Tammu spots a small wound on my foot. In a concerned tone she inquires “What happened to you Mamma?” I say “I got an Ooo” (Ooo meaning wound). She affectionately says “Don’t worry Mamma. I’ll rub some Borolin on your Oooo”.

I’m about to refill my oil can by pouring oil from a 1 ltr packet. Tammu comes into the kitchen and says “Careful Mamma!” I said “Yes darling. I’ll watch out and pour”. She warns yet again by moving her index finger - “Agar oil gir gaya, to main bolungi”. Curious me - “Kya bologi?” She said “Gir gaya! Bolungi”

Mannu demands to be given chocolates at dinner time. As the mommy law goes, a child always demands the wrong thing at a wrong time. Goes without saying that I denied. She puts her hands on her hips, bloats up her cheeks, blows up her nostrils, ties up her eyebrows and says “You are making me angry now!!!”

I’m getting their homework done. Tammu feels thirsty. (That’s one of the million things she gets the urge to do when we try to do something related to academics) I ask her to get the water bottle herself. She enters the kitchen to fetch the bottle and I hear her crying loudly after a couple of minutes. I call out to her to come to me. She comes running with her arms wide open shrieking “Mamma…. mamma…” and the next thing I know – She has thrown herself into Mannu’s lap and the mini psuedo mom is brushing her palms over Tammu’s head, consoling her and asking “What happened Taaa….?” Although I was astounded, I was so touched by witnessing the strong bond that they share. By the way, Mannu is Tammu’s back-up mom.

MIL recently left to stay with BIL and family. Abbas drops me to office and kids to school around 9 AM. I present him with a list of things to be bought while heading back and/or stuff to do before leaving home. He comes back home, eats his brunch and leaves for office. Evenings I pick kids up and return home with them at 6:30 PM. One morning I had asked him to get masoor dal as I had run out of it. In the evening, we came back home, I got busy with my chores. And suddenly found my drawing room floor sprinlled with masoor dal all over! I asked them where did they find the packet? They showed a chair. I blabbbered – “Tere baba ko common sense bhi nahi hai. Dal ka packet kitchen mein nahi rakh sakta tha!” while I cleared up the ocean of dal. Next evening, I came back and saw that milk was lying on the kitchen slab. I started murmuring – “Tere baba ka kaam dekho!” As usual Mannu (Daddy’s daughter) came in baffled – “Kya hua mamma? Baba ne kya kiya?” I told her about the milk vessel (RM – your doodh ka patram, lol) Guess what she said?? “Roz Roz kya baba ko scold karne ka?” Me astonished and nagging again “What?? Doodh kharab ho jaata na? Baba ne fridge mein kyu nahi ghusaya?” And she said “Ye mamma ko ghusana chahiye tha” – There, that role was certainly my MIL’s!!! Phew…

Most frequent 'P' words in the past 3 years

They are undoubtedly ‘Pee’ and ‘Potty’. Please hit the X right away coz this post is all about these 2 P words.


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Still reading? Good luck then!

We refer these P words differently with words or rather sounds of disgust. We call Pee as ‘Sheee’ and Potty as ‘Aaaa’ (as in the way you practise phonetic sound of the Alphabet A by popping your tongue out)

When they were barely a quarter old, their nanny firmly announced “Didi, we shall begin potty training.” I had no clue how she was gonna train twin 3-month olds to pee as per her instructions. I was curious nevertheless. She would try holding them in a standing position on the floor and make this sound “Shhhhh Shhhhh Shhhhh”. And guess what, everytime she made that hissing sound, I would rush to the loo. Folks, I am not kidding here. Bet you, that sound had some effect on me, albeit on my kids!

She was a persistent and an enthusiastic soul. She kept trying inspite of the fact that her charm was working on me! When my kids learnt getting down the bed on their own, we saw that they stopped peeing on the bed. They would get down and piss. We were a happy bunch to see this development.

Peeing was conquered quite early. But potty training seemed impossible. They would sit anywhere under the sun but on the potty seat. I read all sorts of articles on potty training on the web. Nothing seemed to work for me, errr… them! It was when they were almost 18 months old when we visited our Bro-in-law and family. Their younger daughter is 2 years elder than my kids. They saw their cousin sitting in the potty seat often and perhaps they thought it was Cool. When we came back home, our very own long forsaken potty seat had hit a jackpot. Not one but two cute li’l butts were fighting for the coveted seat.

Mannu’s potty training was almost accomplished except for a few accidents now and then. Tammu would only pee in the Potty Seat. She actually had a constipation problem due to which passing stool was literally such a ‘Pain in the ass’ for her. We would keep our fingers crossed in anticipation to get the darshan of her potty which was erratic. Looking at her struggling during the potty sessions caused so much agony to all of us. Tears trickled down her cheeks which turned red and our blues would surface due to helplessness. She would stand erect clutching her fists hard, gritting her teeth and pressing hard for the ‘shit’ to pass. We would try to force-sit her in the potty seat which would ease the process but she always preferred to stand!

Gradually, the constipation problem subsided as we tried new ways to get rid of it. But her habit of standing while she attended nature’s calls decided to stay. She would not even make an attempt to get her pants removed and everyday we had many smelly pants to be cleaned! Now that is not the point here. I tried talking her into being a ‘BIG’ girl by using the potty seat or how I would allow her to flush (as though it was like winning Oscar) if she did not wet her pants or shat on floor. My final threat to her was that ‘You have to clean your own potty if you choose the floor over potty seat’ I unashamedly admit that I even made her do so precisely twice (When Abbas was not around or else he would have banished me out of the house) But this did not work either coz she is a very talented Drama queen and has the capability of melting me with her antics.
They began schooling and with time somehow she is now fully potty trained and proudly tells us ‘I’m a big girl now.!’

Lesson Learnt: Every baby is different and achieves each milestone at its own pace. No matter how much you try or worry (when you compare with other kids around)

Tit for Tat

/*This post was lying in my draft as I was unable to come up with an apt title. So kindly 'adjust maadi' */

Gone are the days when we could easily fool around with Mannu Tammu. They would blindly trust us and we could conveniently fake. But they are getting smarter and we have to rack our brains to trick them!!!

Here are a few instances and you will get the drift:

We had gone to a restaurant and while we waited for our bill to arrive Tammu pops her tongue out in a disgusting manner (That’s a code that MIL had taught them in the initial stages of potty training) I did not panic as she was wearing a diaper anyway. Abbas made the payment and by that time Tammy’s downloading act was accomplished. I did not have wipes in my bag that day, so we decided we would go home, dispose off the diaper and clean her up. The pint sized refused to move and kept on saying ‘Chuchu’ (That’s also a code word for bum cleaning after potty) I wickedly told her there is no bathroom here. So let’s go home and do ‘Chuchu’. She shows me the water bottle on table and says “Why don’t you use that?”

Our TV decided to commit suicide and fell off face down while Abbas was trying to slightly move the stand. After a sleepless night, we went out to an Electronics store to buy a new TV the next day. Mantam were super excited being in this store. I dunno what got into them and they started crawling on the floor. MIL told them “Don’t crawl. Your palms and knees are all getting dirty”. Mannu said “No Didi. Dirt is in Big Bazaar not here.” Huh??

Whenever we travel together I sit in the middle with one kid on each side. Now either of the kid will spot something silly on the street and shriek out of joy! Eg., “Maine India Flag dekha... Yayay” Now the other one will begin crying “Mujhe bhi India Flag dekhna hai.....” and shed litres of tears. It gets really difficult to handle and we have to beg God to somehow make an Indian Flag appear on our path to shut the weeping lad’s mouth. Since this has been happening consistently Abbas was telling me that we have talk to them about this and get rid of this silly competitive behaviour between them. So one evening Tammu said “Maine Cow Dekha... yayay”. As expected Mannu wants to see a cow then and there. I politely made her understand ki “Look, both of you are looking in different directions. You both might see different things. It is not necessary that you see what Tammu sees. Just let it be.” I assumed that she understood what I wanted to put forth. She said “Ok Mamma, I’ll see the cow tomorrow” and stopped nagging. I went on “Tammu ne cow dekha bolke tu bhi agar cow dekhne bolegi to main kaise cow leke aau?” And she answers “Pull karke lao, phir push kar dena!!!”

Remember I was talking about having taken them to a juice parlour? I ordered juice and made both of them sit on the counter so that I could easily hold the glass with two straws and they could sip. While we awaited the arrival of juice, Tammu removed her hair clip and started playing around with it. I told her “Tammu, don’t play with it. The clip will fall down at the other end and we will lose it.” She didn’t listen to me but continued to play with it and told me “Gir jayega to ye uncle ko bol denge na? Uncle uthake de denge!!!”

It was past their bed time and I was hurrying to put them to sleep. I saw some colouring books and crayons lying on the floor. I said in an irritated voice “Uthao uthao, ye sab jaldi upar uthao”. My words fell on their dumb ears. I have an irking habit of keep on repeating something that I want someone to listen till I get a response. And so I go on chanting “Upar utaho upar uthao”. Mannu (evidently annoyed) said pointing her finger towards the ceiling fan, “Mamma, kahaan upar? Fan ke upar uthao??” I too barked - “Haan fan ke upar utha sakti hai to uthake dikha”. She giggled and said “Arrre Mamma, main Big hoon kya? Main to small hoon na?”

First outing without Baba Mamma

Their school declared that they would be taken on a field trip to Bannerghatta Zoo. I was super excited as usual and signed the permission sheet which was sent to know parents’ approval and I had also informed Abbas about the trip. The next day when MIL asked me “Are you gonna actually send the kids?” I said “Yes ofcourse” Abbas said “Well, I still haven’t given my consent. I’m not prepared for it.” Oopsie Doopsie. I didn’t think till then that a kids’ school trip like that needed the DAD to prepare himself. I refrained myself from telling him that I had already given permission at the fear of being Dead Meat. I always want them to make use of all the good opportunities that come their way. My parents always were very strict in not letting us go out of the home. So much so that we could not go to our friends’ house. But we had the permission to call frenz over to our home. I don’t want my kids to cling to us and think that ‘only’ we are their world. I want them to have a separate social life. So that when they grow up, they will know that family is not the only priority in life. Having friends is equally important! (Abbas was finally ‘pataofied’ as expected)

Now both girls were excited about going to the zoo but they expected that Abbas and I would also accompany them. No matter how many different carrots I dangled in front of them about how much fun it will be to go out with frenz, they were determined to stick to their stand. I didn’t want to lie to them that we were going along and then escape after dropping them at school. So yesterday again I tried to convince them. And both girls started crying! I took a deep breath and tried to sort things out.

Me: Ok tell me. Why do you want us to come along? What are you scared of?

Mannu: I’m scared of animals.

Me: But animals will be in the cage. They will not be able to come close to you.

Mannu: No Mamma. They will come running near me.

I knew they will not trust me if I say animals will not do anything to them.

Me: Okay, let me keep a small Ganapathi Bappa in each of your bags. If any animal comes near you, Ganapathi Bappa will beat it up Dishoom Dishoom.

And both of them gave a wide grin. Yayay!

And then Mannu strikes yet again: “Animals aaye to Bag ka zip open karna padega na? Nahi to Ganapathi Bappa baahar kaise aayenge?”

Today morning when I packed their bags, Mannu promptly reminded me if I had kept Ganapathi Bappa in the bag or not! This girl’s memory, I tell you!!!

We were more worried about Tammu coz she has this habit of running away on her own will and wish. She doesn’t even look back to see if her people are around. (She has inherited this from MIL) I have been murmuring to her time and again since last week that she should be holding one of the aunties’ hands when they go to the Zoo. I prepared a Badge with their name and our phone numbers listed on it. I pinned it up on their shirts. Taught them to show that badge to any elderly in case they don’t see any of their frenz or teachers around and tell that it was their Dad’s number. I’m glad they understood. We even did a mock test after reaching school by asking them what they were supposed to do if they get lost.

I left office early and reached their school at 3 PM. A few other parents were waiting thee and I was told the bus would be coming in 10-15 mins. I was so eager to receive Mantam and know from them all about the trip. Mannu came first, caught a glimpse of me and rushed to give me a bear hug. And boy, she was ecstatic! She began naming all  the animals she had seen. II asked “Where is Tammu???” She said “Tammu is there and will be coming.” After a min or so, Tammu came and she could not see us. When she finally saw me, she came running and said “Mamma Ganapathi Bappa diya tha na? Isiliye koi animal hamaare paas nahi aaya.” Mannu said “Tiger vomit kiya Mamma!” I said “Whatt??? Tiger??” and their caretaker told me “Yes she is right. Actually a Cheetah puked and they saw it”

Finally both of them said “Khub masti ho gaya Mamma!!!” and Thank God for that...

Context Mismatch

I was busy cooking in the kitchen and left kids in the drawing room with colouring book and crayons. When I came back to check on them, I noticed that Tammu had coloured Grapes with brown colour. I asked her “Tammu, what colour are grapes?” She said “Green Mamma” I asked “Then why did you use brown colour?” She diligently said “Because my stomach was aching Mamma!” Duh??

Recently Pizza fever has taken over my daughters. I have promised them that I will order Pizza very soon. I asked what Pizza would they like to have? (We have never ordered Pizza home so far or have visited Pizza joint ever with them but I have made at home a couple of times) They say “We would like to have Cheese Pizza” I explain to them that all Pizzas are made of Cheese, but Pizzas could be topped with Chicken or Paneer or Veggies or Mushroom and the sort. They picked Paneer. I said “But your Baba doesn’t like Paneer na?” And Mannu says “Yes Mamma. That’s because Baba is a boy” – And I always thought Paneer was gender neutral!

Tammy bumped her head into something and was in pain. Her genius Baba fumbling for medicines, caught a Volini Pain Relief and smeared on the affected area. This ointment is quite strong and will cause a burning sensation. Tammy says “Ye medicine Teekha hai” (Meaning this medicine is spicy) And Mannu in a similar situation some other day sais “Ismein onion hai kya?” (Is there onion in this?”) when something caused irriatation in her eyes. – Talk about limited vocabulary!

Abbas has entered into an ATM and three of us are perched in Bulu (our Car). I saw a cute baby and showed them “Look look, a small baby”. Pat comes Tammu’s analysis “Ye baby milk nahi peeta hai. Isiliye abhi tak big nahi hua hai!” – Proactive root cause analysis! (Well all those mantras that I chant while feeding them milk – Milk piyega to Mannu Tammu big, strong, intelligent, sharp, witty, smart, beautiful, pretty ho jayega came back to me.)

I had kept some hot food covered with a lid on the dining table. During the meal, when I removed the lid, its bottom was full of vapour droplets. Tammu says “Ye lid mein rain aa gaya kya?” – What a correlation!

One of my colleagues peeled a pomegrante and fed them in the office bus on the way back home. At home, MIL was grating coconut and they had a mouthful each. When I asked what they were eating, Mannu said “Cocogranate!” Fusion of words u c? (By the way I liked the way cocogranate sounds)

I decided to treat them and took them to a juice parlour on the way back home. On entering the shop, I tried to show off being a sweet mommy by asking them “Bachhon, what juice would you like to have?” Tammu said “Mamma, I want Rasagulla juice!” (Yeah I had made Rasagulla Payasam for a change on their birthday, that doesn’t mean they make everything out of Rasagullas)

Mother Tongue or Father Tongue???

My mother tongue is Konkani, Abbas’s is Bengali. What should our kids’ be??

When I first held my daughters in my arms in the nursing home, I saw other moms around communicating with ease with their just borns. I was a confused mom. I didn’t know what to speak to them. And most importantly which language to speak! I was surprised at myself having never thought about it before. I found myself in the dumbest situation ever. I just held them staring and stroking their head, cheeks, letting their small fingers clutch my index finger. And that was all! But fellow moms were conversing with their infants as though with any other human being around…

I seriously put myself to think, and think hard! What am I gonna do? It felt weird to talk to them in Konkani at the risk of my Bong family doubting my sanity. If I was not gonna speak in my mother tongue then I decided I will not speak Abbas’s mother tongue as well. Should I speak to them in English then??? No… Somehow it didn’t appeal to me. Let me choose my national language!!! Yes Hindi - it had to be.

Many of my relatives tell me “Charduvanka amchigele shikkovka go” (You must teach Konkani to your kids) and many of my Bong acquaintances insist on speaking to them in Bengali. I speak a very fluent Bengali, I can read the language as well. But Mantam have enough people around them who already converse with them in their father tongue. I can’t converse in Konkani coz it creates a lot of confusion when other people under the same roof don’t understand a single word in my mother tongue. They hear Bengali, Hindi and English at home. And ever since they started going to day care, they were exposed to Kannada, Tamil, Malayalam and Telugu as well. One day I asked them, “Ye chahiye?” (Do you want this?) and the response was “Venda Yenaka”! (I don’t want) I was stunned although I know Tamil as well. The funniest part is when they talk to each other they speak none of the 7 languages and it’s a delight to listen to their discussions.

Most often than not, I understand all that Mantam try to say. Other people around look at me helplessly to comprehend their complex speech. That’s because, any given sentence of theirs will have words from atleast 2 languages and sometimes even scale up to 5 languages. I call their mode of communication ‘Khichdi’.

Some sample sentences:

·         Mujhe sleeping paaya hai

·         Ei uncle motte hai (Ei = This, Motte = Bald)

·         Illi Vaa and sit down

·         Aaj school jabo na? Happy ho jabo

·         Main milk pilbo na (Now pilbo is not even a word in any language)

·         Mamma amake pakadbo, nahi to main fell down hobo.

·         Mere chul mein Juttu daalbo na? (Chul = Hair, Juttu = Pony)

Fun no? On a serious note, could someone please please tell me what should I mention their mother tongue to be in official records?

My Third Daughter

Everytime Mannu Tammu n I snack on something on the way back home, I always ask to them to keep aside a little for their Didi… They too have gotten habituated to reserving anything that they are munching on for Didi. Looking at our consistent behaviour one of the regular co-passengers inquired me one day “Do you have three children?” This lady knew that I was picking up my twins from the day care and was headed home. I profusely shake my head and ask her “Noooo… What makes you think so???” She says “Daily I see your kids reserving some food for their Didi. That’s why I asked” I laugh aloud and explain to her that Didi is actually their grandmother(my MIL).

That made me actually think, she is actually my third daughter. Okay… she is elder than me, she is my husband’s mother. So what? She acts kiddish most of the time at times. I admonish her when she keeps demanding deep fried goodies. I’m protective about her. I love to dress her up, get stuff for her and love to see the happiness in her eyes. I can’t see her in pain. It hurts me to see her agony just the way my daughters’ would. I take her for granted many times which is not right. But then, I reassure myself saying “That’s because I think she is my own!”.

A couple of days back when she was telling me something funny she did, it suddenly struck  to me that I should document some memories of hers just as I do about the twins… Hence was born this post!

• I generally use only black coloured clutcher to tie my hair.  I recently bought a coloured one and had accidentally left it on the dining table. She mistook it for cloth liner clip and tried to hang some cloth using it. After trying hard for some time, she murmured a curse and then realized what it actually was.

• When we were in Chennai she told me one day with so much fervor that there was a girl secretly living with the bachelors in our adjacent house. Resistant to believe the story I asked her if she had seen the girl? She said that Sudha (our domestic help) had told her. And she had began linking events like the guys having an argument the previous night and how it was due to that girl, so on and so forth. I asked Sudha the very next day “Is there a girl in the bachelors’ home?” She ignorantly said “A girl? No… Why?” I said Ma told me that you saw from the window and told her yesterday. She started chuckling and told me that when she had gone to wash clothes in the backyard, one of the bachelors was staring at her through the window. That was what she told Ma adding that he is womanizer. I breathed a long sigh!!! (The conversation was between Sudha who speaks only Tamil and Ma who speaks only Bengali)

• Her memory is one of her strongest skills. She is a living mini Encyclopaedia – Dates, Names, Events, History, Geography, Politics, Literature, Sports, Current affairs – she knows it all. But recently she has begun forgetting simplest of things occassionally. It’s as though her thought is struck in her soundbox but is unable to reach her tongue! She asks “What did you do with that?” I ask “With what?” She goes “Arreee… That which you brought from there” And I ask “From where?” And we go on from for some more time and end up having a good laugh!

• One day she was filling water into bottles from the filter and forgot that she was supposed to switch the tap off. She panicked thinking the water was not stopping and was about to call us when she realized her mistake. She narrated me the whole scenario and laughed at her own folly.

• We buy 3 tetrapacks of Frooti when we go out. On Friday evenings, she demands to be taken out on weekends. She had recently got into the habit of eating Paan and Abbas would get her Paan almost everyday. I threw huge tantrums as she was on the verge of getting addicted. She stopped eating Paan coz she was scared of me! Yesterday when she left for Gurgaon she whispered to Abbas to buy her a Paan so that I wouldn’t know. I let it be coz sometimes it’s good to be ignorant! But the gist is that I love her for caring for my sentiments.

She was a working woman and hence she understands my woes very well. She had to give up her career for kids and other family responsibilities. She is one of the strongest reasons I could resume my career quickly after my delivery. She had to sacrifice her goals, desires and also let go of her hard earned money. She has undergone adversity, but has come out with flying colors. Today even though her sons are well off, she teaches us not to waste a single penny.

Although I have sung praises about her so far, I do admit that she has her own set of shortcomings. But then so do I. We do have disagreements. Abbas becomes the scapegoat and has to listen to outbursts from the two important women in his life. He makes both understand that “No two people are the same.” At the end of the day, I have no inhibitions to be declaring in public that I couldn’t have asked for a better mother in law than her. I love you Ma. Thanks for being all that you are to me! (“I will always be jealous of Abbas coz you love him more than me”)

Tammy Tales

Last post talked about Mannu all the while. I have gotten into a habit of striking a balance between my actions so that none of the kid feels I'm favouring the other. I have got to do a separate post on that.

Well so here I'm with a few events where Tammy came up with dialogues worth documenting!!

I had given Guava in their tiffin box to be had in the evening. On the way back home in the rick, the interrogation begins.
Me: Mannu Tammu, Did you eat Guava today?
Mannu: Tammu has caught cold na? So don't send Guava for her Mamma. Send only for me.
Tammu: Mamma, you heat the Guava and send for me. I will not catch cold then, hai na???

I go to pick them up from school and they see a Pizza delivery boy! Tammu says "Mamma, mujhe Pizza khana hai." Me astonished at her having identified the thing in the boy's hand as Pizza ask her again "What?" And she thinks I dunno what a Pizza is!!! To my further surpise, she says all this at a stretch - "Mamma! This is Pizza. Ye round hota hai. Isko kitchen mein fry karna padtha hai. Upar se cheese daalna padtha hai. Phir cook karna padtha hai. Uske baad cut karne se ye triangle ho jaata hai. Ok mamma?" I was staring at her with my jaws dropped.

Background: They had caught this habit of saying NO on my face to each and everything I would ask them to do. It would really piss me off. I mean, I wouldn't mind it if they don't do what I say. But I don't want to listen to a NO from 3 year olds after all! I had freaked out BIG TIME and warned them to think 100 times before uttering the N word. Yeah I can be a Rowdy at times to bully them.
One day, MIL asks me "Seemu, did you take bath?" And I say "No".
Bang comes Tammu's question "Why did you say no to Didi when you told us not to say No?"
Sigh!!!!


Warning- Bit mushy ahead (Blush blush)
Background: Tammy is a replica of Abbas. She even smells like him. Whenever I kiss her, I sniff her sneakily and it does feel good. She caught me sniffing her smell once and she thought it was an act performed post kissing.
One fine morning: I wake up and I planted a routine small kiss on Abbas's cheek. Boy, I turn back and see both the kiddos awake. Maanu says "What did you do to Baba?" Me (all blushing) - "I gave your Baba a kiss". Tammu says "Did you smell him or not?" I feel like crawling under a rock all ashamed.


These are the recent few dialogues which I'm able to recall at this moment. To be contd...

Naariyal Paani - Bachhon ke Muh mein paani, mere maathe pe paani (Pasina)

Thursday morning - Abbas driving Bulu (our Blue car). Me and kids sitting in the rear seat. Me combing their hair and tying 2 ponies on each head. Mannu suddenly spots something on the street and goes 'Oita dao!' (meaning give THAT to me) I inquire what she wants. She repeats those two goddamn words for like 1024 times (yeah I'm into IT industry, u c?) and Abbas and I both start asking her cross questions to find out what this mystery thing was that the daughter was going bonkers over... We both are ready to tear each other's hair unable to treasure-hunt it. Abbas, regaining his cool (trying to concentrate on his driving skills) asked her politely "Mannu what do you want?" And she again says for the 1025th time - "Oita dao"!!! I go grrrr.... and then I remember this game called Hangman that we used to play as kids. 

So there I go - "Did you see OITA?" 

Mannu - Yes

Me - "Do you want to eat it?"

Mannu - Yes

Me - "What colour is it?"

Mannu - Mmmm (lost)... after 5 secs pause - Green

Me - (Unsure about what to ask next) Are you sure???

Mannu - Yes

Me - (I'm the lost one now, bring out my lifeline - asking the other kid) - "Tammu, what is she trying to say?"

Tammu - (Thinking, please don't involve me in this for God's sake) "I don't know mamma"

God came to rescue and she again spotted OITA somewhere on the street and she remembered it's name finally! Phew...

Let's go to flashback...

There is a Naariyal Paani wala cart exactly opposite Mannu Tammu's school. On Tuesday, when we crossed the road to catch a rick, Mannu spotted that stall and 'Mujhe wo chahiye'. The girl didn't even know its name but wanted it. Huh! Well, I assured her by sugar coating my words "Tender Coconut?? Tujhe chahiye? Main Friday ko khareedke dungi Okay?" She happily nodded, little did she know that Friday is yet another 3 days away. Now the reason why I said Friday is another story altogether. My domestic help comes at 6:30 PM in the evening. Although my MIL is here now, I ask her to come in the evening so that she can wash truckload of tiffin boxes of kids and me. She comes in the morning on Weekends so, she washes Friday's dabbas Saturday morning. So I couldnt afford to be a minute late or have to face Meena Aunty's wrath. Although I am not afraid of her as such, I would perhaps be better off without looking into her questioning eyes.

Back to the present...

We reached my office by then and I waved bye to them and like a wicked politician I gave my assurance yet again "I will buy you tender coconut tomorrow for sure, okay???" And both fairies now took their fav seat (front seat which is (il)legally my right when their Baba is driving) and waved back to me smiling!!!

Today...

I might be wicked but I don't make fake promises. If I promise I ensure I deliver it. I bought a Tender Coconut for them and the three of us also went into a Fancy shop to buy a clip for me and ended up buying rubber bands and clips, bangles for them!

PS:

I also picked up one tender coconut for MIL. And Mannu was thoughtful in asking how her Didi will drink it as there was no straw at home. 

Coincidence or Causality???

As a kid I was timid and and lika a recluse, I secluded myself from the crowd or strangers. More often than not, I found it hard to mingle with people. I preferred to stay in my cocoon and hardly socialized. At school, I was good at academics but  a zero when it came to sports or dance or even elocution's for that matter. I would participate in offline activities like drawing, essay writing, rangoli competitions. You get the drift right?? But there were a few exceptions like singing and fancy dress competitions where although I had to face ogling eyes of audiences, I fared considerably well (nevertheless I shivered out of nervousness from within). Post marriage when I was posted to unknown city and I lived on my own, my personality took a 360°turn and I became an extrovert. It was a turning point in my life and realization set in of all the opportunities I let go out of my coyness. That’s when I decided I will push my daughters to grab opportunities that come their way and teach them that “Participation is more important than the outcome”

Last year their creche was planning to observe Children’s Day and conduct Fancy Dress competition for them and also a Dance programme. I jumped in joy full of enthusiasm.Pumped all my gusto into my daughters by means of narrating to them how much fun it will be, and how they will get to wear new dresses, and so many uncles and aunties will say they are ‘Good girls’, exclaim and cheer when they dance and the euphoria hit them too... I decided on dressing them up as Krishna and Radha. On November 13th they ran temperature and the zeal all three of us deflated just as a balloon that got pricked. That night once they went to sleep, I packed all the dresses and accessories hoping against hope that they would be fit to atleast go on stage with costume and come back. (Yes, I’m a crazy mom!!!) Next morning, the temperature was slightly above normal but weakness prevailed. They were dull yet asking me when was I going to dress them up? They went on stage as Krishna and Radha for the first time. Then came back, they changed into white party frocks and again went on stage with rest of their kins and shook a leg to ‘All is well’!!! All was well only till then coz fever increased by a few notches by   evening. We took them to their paediatrician and they underwent a three day course of medication and were back to normal.

In May this year, we had Family Day function at work. They were organizing competitions for kids in the age range 5-12 years. Hyper-excited me, sent a reply to that mail asking if we could get three year olds to participate too. The response elated me coz they said three year olds could participate with parental supervision. This time I was brainstorming for something new coz I learnt from my previous experience that dressing up as Krishna and Radha was very common. One of my colleagues suggested ‘Cheerleader’. I got pom poms, brought gift wrappng sheets, cut them into stripes, stapled them into a backless top that they already had. I cut a long stripe out of drawing sheet and dangled colourful stripes from that sheet all over and made it as a mini skirt, attached same stripes to the stockings and made matching wrist bands. For the other one, I planned to dress her as a tribal lady. I asked my domestic help to get some mango leaves, made crown, necklace, and skirt out of leaves the previous night. Packed paint bottles to paint  her body with colourful stripes, some flower rakhi to tie on arms, wooden bangles and a  wooden flute. The night before the event was a nightmare, Abbas and I slept quite late as we prepared the tribal costume and also were googling for some tribal song. By the time we called it a day, Mannu had begun showing signs of diarrhoea. Phew! We spent the whole night cleaning her bum and changing her diaper. She was quite alright by afternoon but weak, her excitement uncluttered. Both of them jumped and did their small bits on stage with audience going ‘Ooh’ and ‘Aah’. I loved every bit of it. Back home all 4 of us curled into our beds to get a good night’s sleep.

This time when their school had intimated about sending kids dressed as Krishna and Gopika on Srikrishna Janmashtami, I was a little apprehensive. I suppressed my enthusiasm down and only announced about this event to kids a couple of days back. All was well till the D-Day morning. Mannat woke up earlier than usual and first thing she asked was “Are you dressing us up as Radha Krishna today?” I exclaimed “Yesss!” We were all set to leave home with both of them well made up in their new avatars, when Tammu tripped and fell down. She began crying and showing her knee which was in pain. We smeared an ointment there and told her she will be alright. Memories of previous two instances had faded from my memory but they hastily came back to me when I went to pick them up from the day care in the evening. I saw Mannat quietly sitting in a chair with her left heel neatly dressed with a bandage. Before I could inquire what had happened to her… the caretaker told me that they had a Matka breaking ceremony and a teeny weeny piece of Matka must have bee lying in some corner. Mannu’s heel got pierced by it and she kept mum without informing anyone. They only came to know when they saw blood red footsteps all over the floor. Sigh! The wound was a minor one, thank god for that!

I always do the ‘Nazar utharna’ act when we take kids out among crowd and have people’s eyes fixated on them. I am not sure if it works at all, but it’s just for self-consolation. But ultimately all these incidents have thrown me in a fix. Are they mere coincidences? Being an optimist, what I want to deduce from all these happenings is  “ There are no mistakes, no coincidences, all events are blessings given to us to learn from.” ~ Elisabeth Kubler-Ross

Questions are the creative acts of intelligence

There is frequently more to be learned from the unexpected questions of a child than the discourses of men. - George Bernard Shaw

Some memories in random order...

• I don’t remember exactly where we were… Nature called Mannat and we had no option but to ask her to sh*t in her diapers! We were not in a position to change her diapers and in a while the stink engulfed us. Surprisingly unaware Tammu crumples her nose, sports a filthy look, waves her hand in front of her nose to wade off the smell and says “Eta ki dando??” (Meaning what smell is this… ) Actually gandho in Bengali means smell and she pronounced it as Dando which sounded so funny along with her gesture.

• We had recently gone to Bannerghatta National Park. While on the safari van, we spotted a lion. All the co-passengers where going ooh aah looking at a lion at an arms distance while Mannu asked her Baba “What is the lion doing Baba?” He told her that the lion was sleeping as it was actually lazily lying down. Inquisitive Mannu shoots back “Why doesn’t the lion have a pillow?” Abbas was caught unawares!

• I keep narrating them some incidents of their childhood now and then when I’m lost for bed time stories. One such night while I was putting them to sleep, I was telling them how they would have all fruits in the form of juice as they did not have teeth then. Mannu innocently asks “Mamma, did we have tongue then?” This is what we call out of the box thinking!!!

• Mannu has a habit of crying in situations when she doesn't get what she wants. There are times when we don't understand what she is trying to tell and she keeps on crying. We are thrown on tenterhooks when she throws such tantrums as we can't think of a solution when the problem statement is not clear. One such instance (when my patience was still intact), without knowing how to tackle her, I started singing!!! The song was "Rote kaiku hum? Hona hai jo ho, sad hote kaiku hum. Cry cry itna cry karte hain kaiku..." She suddenly started smiling and the battle was half won. After some time, for some silly reason Tammu started crying. When I inquired her why she was crying, she innocently said "Gaana bolo, mamma"

• I downloaded this song unto my cell just in case I need it in crisis situations. One day when I played the whole song... Mannu asked me annoyedly "Mamma, why is uncle saying Tammu's name?" Puzzled, I played the song again to check whether there was 'Tamanna' mentioned anywhere in the song. When the song went 'Aisa kyun hota, jo hona hai so hota', Mannu whined again, "Mamma, uncle is saying again". Then I had my Eureka moment. Mannu addresses Tammu as "Taa" and each time she heard 'hota' in the song, she thought they were addressing her sister. Phew!!!

Tales of Route# 8 Bus

I used to bring them along to work as they stayed at my office crèche all day. I got popular in the campus because of them. Many a times I have people smiling at me while I’m clueless as to who they are. Now I have got the hang of it and smile back at them. They were given identity cards along with lanyards and they would daily stop by the gate and look at the security guards, exhibit their ID cards and say “Unccccllllllle…. ID Card!!!” It was a welcome change for those people who have to check people’s ID cards only to bear their frowns and irritated reactions. They had befriended most of the employees travelling in my route’s bus. People would bring goodies for them daily evening. Mannat was very shy and clung to me initially. Tamanna was outgoing and she would get toffees / biscuits, she would confidently present her other palm and sweetly ask them “For Mannat?” and bring goodies for her sister. Gradually Mannu came to know that by being with Mommy, she is not at the profitable side. Hence, she decided to come out of her shell and began socializing. They would sing rhymes, hop from seat to seat, lap to lap, listen to songs, identify objects in newspapers and magazines, wear people’s accessories, pose for photoshoots… Those days were very memorable for all of us!

Quoting a few incidents from the daily bus journey here:

• Deepa is the first bencher of our bus and initially my kids could recognize her only when she was seated in the bus. They would be confused when she greeted them in the campus! Tammu shares a strange bond with Deepa as in she would give a share of whatever she is eating to Deepa without second thoughts. I too never got that privilege! Deepa is the first one to get down from the bus and no matter where they are seated, they would stretch their necks, shoot their hands up in the air to say “Deepa aunty… Green chocolate!” Deepa would pleasantly smile with a nod assuring that she will get it for them the next day. And then history repeats itself the next day too.
• Prabha got different names from them at different times. Starting off from Dabba aunty to Yabba aunty to Labba aunty! She is the only person who taught them ‘A for Orange’. They would trouble her to take off her accessories and make them wear those. They would then do a ramp walk in the aisle showing off to all the passengers. One day Tammu told me that “Mamma, Labba aunty doesn’t have a home na? She stays in the bus only” At first I wondered what made her say so. On pondering further I realized Prabha always got down after us and that was the reason Tammu assumed she was homeless! She conferred the titles ‘Tarle Timmi Tamanna’ and ‘Sundari Mannat’ to them which I believe will stay etched in their hearts for a long time to come.
• They would address all men as uncles and women as aunties. Rishma did not like to be called Aunty. She told them that she was ‘Didi’ (as in sister) and they started calling her ‘Didi aunty’. After some days, she again taught them that she was not Didi Aunty but only Didi. After that they would address as ‘Not Didi Aunty, Only Didi’
• There was a girl named Suganthi, they called her ‘Chunthi aunty’. She would draw for them in a notebook. One day they asked her to draw a rabbit. She was caught unawares and she told them that she would draw for them the next day. Poor girl, she went home, googled for rabbit sketches and learnt drawing one just for them. How sweet!!! My kids began demanding a new creature to be drawn daily…
• There is Lamayya aunty, in whose presence I could relax by outsourcing them to be taken care of. She has truckloads of patience in entertaining all their demands. She would bring fruits for them, peel and feed them. She would play games with them, play songs for them. If she was held up with work and couldn’t leave office by 5, she would try to come to the bus just to see them, bid good bye and then go back to work! Unconditional love, I say!
• We then have Devleena, who is called Debbina aunty. They knew each entity that existed in her carry bag. Daily they would bring out everything out of the bag and name it, put it back. Never did I see her getting irritated with the delicate scrutiny crucial that her bag underwent. She lovingly calls them Gublu… She taught them looking out of the window and exclaiming “Kitne saare uncle, kitne saare bike…”
• Once, I had to stay back at office due to some important work and I caught the 7:15 bus. A guy was sitting besides us and was fondly looking at Mannu Tammu. All of a sudden, Tammu tightly hugged me possessively and stared at him with a stern expression and hissed “My Mamma!!!” The guy did not dare look in our direction after that.
• A guy was being playful with Tammu and was showing her his ID card and mocking at her saying she did not have one. She immediately put her head and told him “My Juttu”!!! All people in the nearby seats burst out into a hearty laugh…

Since June, they have been going to school and Route#8 bus misses them. I sadly travel alone and have now started reading and listening to FM after almost a year!!! But their absence haunts me all the time. Just today while I was coming to office, I spotted a train, jumped in my seat and had almost exclaimed “Train!!!” but controlled my urge to do that… They have taught me to keep the child in me alive, appreciate simple things like watching birds, enjoying rain and many simple things which people tend to overlook in this busy mundane world.

We’re glad, they are daughters

It’s hard to believe that even in today’s age, people still crave for sons, they still believe in the funda ‘Atleast a son’. People shower me with unnecessary sympathy when they learn that I have twin daughters “Tch tch, achhochho, Ayyo, Both daughters??? How good it would have been if it was one boy and one girl?” No thanks, I’m thankful to God he blessed me with 2 girls. And then some people cross their limits and ask “Won’t you try for a son again?” Excuse me??? Why should I discuss my family plans with you?! Some people are of the opinion that our “Vansh” (family name) will be extinct without a son. Vansh, my foot! What’s in a name after all? For me its one’s heart and behaviour that matters not his family name…

Abbas and I are elated to have both girls. How I love dressing them up, buying accessories, trying wide assortment of apparels, making them wear matching rubber bands, clips, bangles, bindis… It’s all so much fun. They also keep a watch on my accessories to check whether my bangles, ear rings are matching my dress or not. They help me in the kitchen; they pick their playthings and place them back before going to bed. (Well, I have trained them to do that, and would have done the same had it been a son. My daughter-in-law would have been lucky!!!) There are some things which they do without teaching them which give more pleasure. They massage my forehead when I say my head is aching! They pick my empty tea cup and keep it in the sink for me. Get a bottle of water for me and ask me not to get up when I am thirsty! They do naughty things, and I yell at them at times when they don’t listen to me. But I melt down as they rush to me and give a bear hug full of tears and say “Please don’t scold Mamma”…

A Dad is the first and the ever lasting man in a girl’s life. My dad was my first love and I always prayed I should get a husband just like him :-D. My daughters are also their daddy’s girls and Abbas thoroughly enjoys all the pampering he receives from Mantam. He craves to hear ‘Baba’ from them and is extra caring about his daughters. I wonder if he cared so much for me even during our courtship. He always worries about the men who will take his daughters away from him. Reminds me of the quote by Jim Bishop - “Watching your daughter being collected by her date feels like handing over a million dollar Stradivarius to a gorilla.”

Bhook Lagi Hai... Khana Do

‘My kid doesn’t eat’, ‘He is so fussy with food’, ‘She hates food’, ‘Feeding him is like winning a battle’… Do these lines sound familiar? I have heard these rants from many moms. But touch wood, I am not one among them. My kids had just begun throwing tantrums when I simply nipped it in the bud. They’d say they don’t wanna eat and I would say ‘That’s fine with me. It’s upto you’ I would rarely give them an option or an alternate choice if they rejected the food they were offered. Nothing drastic will happen to a child if he/she skips a meal. They will infact be hungry and would quickly gulp in whatever is served to them in the next meal. I might sound like a ‘CRUEL’ mother but then I don’t mind being one. Having said that, I would like to add to it that I do ask them what they like to eat and what they don’t. I try to make them enjoy their food, just the way I do. My excitement about food has been infectious enough for them to catch on! Every evening on the way back home, we have a wonderful tête-à-tête where they share their feedback of the food that was sent, along with requests for the next day’s menu. I love every bit of this conversation. I try my best to cater to their requests, in case I was not able to prepare what they had asked me to, I would confess to them apologetically and assure that I would make it up to them very soon. They happily agree.

Why I started writing all about food? It was a couple of months since they had started speaking words… the first ever sentence that Mannu framed must undisputedly be “Akhon ki khabo?” – Meaning “What do I eat now?” And she would shoot this question after completion of every meal just as I would heave a sigh thinking they were full. Baffled, we would ask her what she would want to eat and we would receive this question back. It has so happened that we served her 4-5 course meal and at the end she again says “Akhon ki khabo?”. There have been times when Abbas and I were completely at loss and he would only ask me “Seemu, are you related to Bakaasur by any chance?”

Tammu is not a food freak but she is not hard to please either. Only thing she doesn’t like in her food is onions. You give her a mouthful of food, with onions sneaked in. She has an uncanny knack of filtering that onion piece while gulping in rest of the food. Same goes with nuts! One more distinctive characteristic of hers is that she will stuff her mouth to its brim, as in she will shovel whole biscuits or most things whole rather than biting them and eating. She has it in her genes as Abbas does that too.

Now to conclude, I was a big time finicky eater. But not any more… People say that whatever troubles we have given our parents as children will come back to us in the form of our children. So far so good. Hope I will not join the club with moms of fussy eaters!!!