My take on Mother's day!

Hi all, wishing you all a belated Happy Mother's Day! How was your day, what did you do? I just returned from a weekend vacation, spent the day travelling. My kids had given me their cadeautjes (gifts) for Mothers Day a week before - a big card from lil G (which I suspect was made with a lot of help from the teacher and a message which she pretended to read) and a jewellery hanger cum flower pot from Big G {who borrowed one of my bangles for measurement purposes :)}

Personally, I am a bit undecided about celebrating these sort of special days. Consider Valentine Day for one. One day in a whole year to show your love to your loved one(s). What about the rest of the days? Work as usual, life as normal, huh? And all the noise and hype and colours and sparkle around it. And the other set of opposing and protesting noises and voices against the decadent indulgences in a single day. I admire all those  folks who take the time out and wear their reds and their hearts out, buy cards, flowers, cakes, etc, oh and post photos and make a celebration in stereotypes or otherwise inspite of it. Me, personally, I am not for exhibitionism of any kind. I don't say that is always a good thing. And since I am inclusive types I would want to include a lot of people in this, which probably would cause some conflicts of inner circle vs outer circle, friends in real life vs online...I tell you, life is complicated so this one I stay out  of totally.

Mother's day, now that's something I did not give a lot of thought before. I've been guilty for ignoring it for years now. Sometimes I would forget to call my mother and wish her, ok, I felt very awkward to do it once a year, on that day itself.  I suspect I am the irreverent and ungrateful types. I also truly began appreciating my mother 100 per cent and more only after I became one. Recently I started thinking my children don't thank me enough. I am amazed and occasionally unhappy with the sense of taken-for-grantedness they have for me. Mama, she will always be there. Mom, where is my book, or my toy?

Mothering is like a life-project  of sorts, I can't even disengage for a second, yes, not even when I'm taking a nap, or am ill. Why is this so or that like that - endless questions, arguments  trials, tantrums, gestures of spontaneous affections, cuddles, the passing of the seasons, the sense of accomplishment on each side after having mastered a small skill - potty training, reading, learning to colour within the lines, not biting nails, co-operating to eating healthy.......... And the daily strifes and battle of wills and personalities fought on behaviour, gratitude, being good people, manners, values, sharing and caring, take your pick! I seem to have lost myself somewhere in the quasi role of a People manager cum circus-trainer cum Mother in the quest  for producing two model citizens for tomorrow:)

Our karma clock starts ticking from the minute one is born in this world. Mother or child, we all have our parts to play. It can get exciting when three generations meet - my mother, me and my daughters. Yes, I  have to play a dual role - mother and child at the same time. A lot of fun too. It's like seeing a mirror or into the crystal ball. I still think each day is important. Thank God for your Mother each day. Tell her you love her any day or every day, why wait for one particular day. I don't think gifts or the lack of them would be a deal maker or breaker in this relation. I always read more into gestures and actions. But these are my thoughts only. Again, not specifically on Mother's day, but whenever I remember, I show my gratitude for having a loving and caring mother and to two little ones who look upto me!! as one. God bless their unfailing trust in me.

Here are some posts I read on Mother's day and liked them - MomwithaDot's blog and the series of odes to Mothers on IndianMomsConnect here .

Some this and thats

An old draft, but publishing it anyway.

Today, after ages had gone out for a walk and a drink with a friend. We met up around 9 pm, post dinner. It was still light and we walked and talked and I huffed a little too. Walking is fun if you have some company, don't you think? Oh, the drink, such boring teetotallers we are - it was mint tea, sans sugar.

Lil G had a class outing to a zoo. I'd been telling her since a while not to go too close to the enclosures, not to feed anything to the animals, and to stay with the group. Got up at 4:15 in the morning, waiting for the alarm to ring, wondering if I should've volunteered to go along. I also was feeling guilty of scolding her the previous evening. Do you think I'm paranoid? She was fine apparently, had a small fall. The husband had gone to pick her up and had a small panic attack when he did not see her. Almost all the kids had come out of the bus, lil G and one of her friends were the slow ones.  Back home, madam threw a minor tantrum (well, she was tired) and when I asked her which animals she's seen, defiantly told me that none - they were all ill!! Today, she volunteered that she had seen a zebra.

Big G ate some broccoli and loved it. For a child who does not eat greens, this deserves a mention. Also her first tooth is loose and there is much excitement. I'd better be prepared as the tooth fairy. Since all her friends have already lost at least one tooth she was feeling a bit left out, but was very excited about telling this to her friends. A bit that always makes me laugh.  Ask her how her tooth is and she says, oh! it is looser today.

As usual, we've been a bit short-changed for spring. There was not much warm weather, more wind and cold. Off late, we've seen some 15 to 17 degrees and we are happy with that. I read two books recently - The Life of Pi, by Yann Martel and it's awesome. I think I need to buy it for myself. For a re-read. And the other was The Stepford Wives by Ira Levin. This book was very interesting especially because it was written in the 1970's and it is a satire about the society's expectations of the perfect woman, who is perfectly groomed and maintains a clean house. Male chauvinism and the men's club gang up against independent women, who know their mind, who are successful professionals in their own right  and erode their defences and confidence to becoming a Stepford wife - essentially someone who will obey her man blindly. This sort of attitude is prevalent even today, world over. Even in families where the wife is working out of home, the majority of times she is doing far more share of housework and child care compared to her partner. 

Edited to add: The tooth has come out, new one is quickly coming out too. The existence of tooth-fairy was widely debated between the two sisters. The little one said wisely for her years, "There is no tooth-fairy, Mama will be one." The big sister remained firm in her belief. The tooth-fairy put the alarm a whole one hour early for the weekend, kicked herself for not keeping any candy/chocolates and then ta-da, remembered an old Easter-eggs stash. Put them under the pillow with a coin. Big G was happy with her riches, but then when the little one wanted some chocolate and I dug into the same stash, the truth was revealed. There was some outrage and then really, I don't know what the status-quo is now. I should learn how to play along, duh!

The Social Samosa

The ubiquitous samosa is a  humble and delicious snack. This deep-fried triangular-shaped crispy dough shell with delicious potato-pea stuffing is one of the many options in the 'tiffin' or 'halwai' or 'farsaan' tradition in India. In terms of popularity and acceptance, it rubs shoulders with the batata wadas, idlis, vadas, dhoklas... and perhaps comes a notch higher. Nor is it of ethnic Indian origin per se. Refer to Wikipedia for the history of samosa and as early as the 10th century it seems to have been popular in the Middle East as sambosa.  It is also very well known in South Asia, Central Asia, Western Asia, Mediterranean, North Africa, South Africa and the Horn of Africa, whew......only 3 more continents to be captured.

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Life is a strange kettle of tea. Very few people realize the salience of the moment gone by.  Barring philosophers, or perhaps even psychologists  Mostly we are consumed by the mundane. Retrospectively, we do a great job of analyzing our lives and distorting memories and expectations.

For Anita her life's decisions and non-decisions constantly jostled for heavy-duty reflection.  Tending to her 3-year old and going through the motions of managing house, she constantly played with 'what ifs' and 'had beens', arranging them like a game of tangrams. No arrangement was perfectly satisfactory or acceptable. Futile pursuit, yes, but everyone needs the freedom to arrive at that momentous insight on their own.

Anita has traded normal for a new life. Normal is always subjective. Her normal was to pick up life's strings after a maternity break and get back to work and economic independence. Back to being a corporate slave in the business world. Running the race and hating every moment of having sold her soul. Not having time enough to smell the flowers. A linear process of cause-consequence thinking only made for a bleak persepctive.  For the sake of togetherness and family, she has consented to exist as a non-entity in a new country, which did not acknowledge her beyond a number, or her degrees or experience. She ultimately flocked to one of the places where all the lost immigrants congregate regularly, searching for a tentative solidarity and reassurance of sorts - a language school.

It all started when Semiran confided to Anita during the French language class that they were renting the Italian cafe.She congratulated her on the enterprise. This did explain Semiran's preoccupation of previous months, as she was working both part-time and helping her husband set up the cafe. Anita would sometimes stop by  at Semiran's cafe. She would often be away,  and it was always her soft-spoken and gently-smiling husband who asked her for her choice. The Italian land-lady made her presence promptly at lunch time to take-away two sandwiches for a working lunch with all the propriety as the shop-owner.

The mundane observations which shape perceptions never are spoken out in conversations. Like play-dough these are always being shaped, reshaped with necessary changes in the course of a person's life. Time is running at it's fastest and everybody keeping pace to it in the way they can or want to. Births, marriages, illnesses, deaths, separations, job losses, changing jobs, careers, losing weight, hobbies, reading, family time, giving up sugar, vacations, social media, paperwork - the preoccupations of life are so many...The only time we truly do nothing is when we sleep. Our bodies, minds and even souls march to a beat so strenuous and fast that we can't disengage even for a second because we will miss the beat. Sleep is an escape and a blessing.

One evening Semiran volunteered that they were facing a problem of footfalls. No body appreciated home-made food or sauces. A German immigrant herself she had always strong disdain for the natives of low-country Belgium. And of the town in particular. Did that explain the lukewarm relationship they shared on most days? Fluctuating warmth from let's meet for coffee to a forced hello on other times. Nothing surprised Anita anymore. She was often put out to explain her own occasional strange and bizarre behavior at times to herself and so never gave deliberate thought to the misdemeanors of others.

Today, she was her helpful best. But isn't it yet another sandwichery amidst so many others in the area, asked Anita? There were established Italian, Thai, Chinese, Greek, Japanese places in the vicinity, not to mention a popular bakery and three pita-durum shops. You must offer something different! And then she
remembered the Samosa. Give that a try, it is an awesome food. Semiran shook her head, having never heard of anything of the kind. Though each spoke decent English, describing the Samosa as a product and enterprise was a difficult task for Anita.

How can one explain the taste, the ensuing aroma, sound of them being fried in hot oil, wiping sweat of the brows or allowing  them to meet at your chin, the accompaniments ranging from the sweet tamarind sauce, to the chole and grated horse-radish combo, to the mint chutney or even a new avataar of samosa in plain yoghurt, the samosa-chat. Not to mention a bite into the pastry and the stuffing and being transported to temporary nirvana. On a foreign soil, in an uber-clean, almost sterile cafe, sipping on mint tea and lauding the merits of a popular street-food of one's motherland is a surreal experience.



........To be continued......

(P.S. Trying my hand at something new so bear with me. If I am inspired, might finish it, or else will convert it to drafts, which is easy way out, isn't it?)