Tiny Conversations – Imagine Wine, Jacuzzi, and…

A few months back, my son and DIL bought a house. The day they moved in, the twins were extremely excited. They called me and announced that they had “finally” moved lock, stock, and barrel, into their “new house.” Thereafter they promptly took me on a tour of the place with running commentary and expert comments. They did a great job I must say. Soon, the tour was done inside and outside the house too.

It was time to settle down and chat.

Amu: You know what, Dada, there’s a room just for you when you come here.

“Now, isn’t that simply fantastic! I will have to think about how to do it up.”

Mia: Mama’s already thought about that. She’s put up new curtains too.

“Well, then I’ll think about what should go on the walls and some other itty-bitty things.”

Amu: It’s going to be fun Dada. Aren’t you excited?

“Yes, I am. Super excited.”

Mia: But you know what Dada, just in case you’re wondering which of the two bedrooms we showed you was yours, the smaller room is yours. The bigger one is ours. You do know yours is the smaller one, right?

Two worried faces looked at me intently. They expected me to be disappointed. I decided to play along.

“Oh!” I said and pulled a long face.

Amu: (clearly moved) Dada, Dada, it’s just a wee bit smaller than ours, she said placatingly.

“Then it’s alright!” I laughed. “Anyway, it makes sense, you know. There are two of you and just one ME. You definitely have more stuff to put in. I was just teasing you. I’d be surprised if I had the bigger room”

They relaxed. And looked at each other in silent communication.

“We’re going to share the bathroom too!” they exclaimed, taking advantage of this moment. And giggles followed that revelation.

“I hope it’s big enough,” I said laughing.

Mia: Oh, Yes, Dada, the bathroom is big enough, but (she pauses) the WC is a bit low! How will you manage? Your back will hurt.

Amu: Maybe she can use mama-papa’s one.

Mia: Or the powder room… the WC there isn’t low!

As I listened and watched their expressions changing with each thought and possible solution, I realized how genuinely concerned they were about their Dada and her physical limitations in some areas.

“What would I do without you two ladoos to care for me! (Literally, ladoo is a sweetmeat). You think about everything to make me comfortable.”

Both: We love you Dada!

“Love you to smithereens too, my dolls.”

Amu: Do you know the master bedroom’s bathroom is BIG and has a jacuzzi too?

“Yes, I heard about that and saw it too on the tour you took me on around the house.”

Amu: Yes, but you don’t know something. (both the girls giggle).

“Now don’t laugh alone. Come on, tickle my funny bone too. I like a good laugh.”

Amu: Mama said she’d like to relax in the jacuzzi with a glass of wine.

“Oh boy! Now that’s a thought. I wouldn’t mind doing that myself!”

Both: But you can’t! Mama said only she and papa would be using that bathroom.

“Oh shoot! (sad face) and here I was dreaming about luxuriating in there with a glass of wine!”

Amu: Really?! But can’t you imagine it?

“Well, I already did and that’s why I thought it would be awesome.”

Amu: (thoughtfully) No Dada, just imagine a naked woman with a glass of wine in the jacuzzi! Ewww!!

Mia: It’s so silly, Dada, (she says between bouts of laughter.)

Amu: And so funny. Just imagine that Dada!

“Well, I could imagine that but I’d rather not, you know,” I manage to say as I laugh out loud. “Come on girls, ever heard of bathing suits aka swimsuits, bikinis. Imagine that kind of a woman.

Amu: But that is not so funny, Dada. Another burst of laughter.

Their laughter and mine punctuated and truncated our conversation about nude women, wine glasses, and jacuzzis.

Tiny Conversations – Trollers Vs Tongs

There’s always something happening at mealtime it seems.

Myra: Can I have the trollers please?

“What’s that?”

Myra: That’s something that goes like…. (she moves her thumb and fingers together and apart).

I get it but pretend not to.

“What do you want to do with a troller?”

Myra: (impatiently) Pick up the hot dog and put it in the bun, Dadi!

“Oh, I couldn’t understand what it was. You mean tongs, right?

Myra: (Rolling her eyes) What’s that?

I hand her the tongs. “The smaller one is in the dish washer. You can use these kitchen tongs. I think it will do the job for you.”

Myra: Yes! That’s it… trollers, (she stressed the word with relief and a certain amount of triumph). She had imparted some knowledge to me.

She gave me a look that said… ‘hope you learn the right word.’

I had a good laugh behind her back!

Tiny Conversations – Does he miss me?

Some years ago, when Aly, the eldest of my grandkids was about two and a half years old, on a video call she asked me about her grandpa.

Aly – Dadi, do I have a grandpa?

“Yes, you do?”

Aly – Where is he then?

“He’s not here now,” I said, wondering if she had already learned that he had died long ago.

Aly – I know, she said, with wisdom beyond her years shining from her eyes.

“So you know he isn’t here with us, and you know why, yes?”

Aly – Yes, he is in heaven.

“Yes, sweetie. Your grandpa is in heaven.” I was relieved.

Aly – Does he know about me?

“I’m sure he does.”

Aly – Can he see me?

“I believe he can whenever he peeks through the clouds.”

Aly – (Beaming a bright smile) Does he love me?

“Oh, my dear, you cannot imagine how much he loves you. He adores you.”

Aly – (She’s glowing by now) Dadi, does he miss me?

I choked on my words as tears threatened to spill out and said, “Trust me sweetie, he misses you very, very much.”

Her little heart found a lot of comfort in that assurance. She flashed her angelic smile and settled into the couch more comfortably, content in the knowledge that her grandpa knew about her; loved her; missed her.

Sometimes it’s so much better to sugarcoat a bitter pill.

PS: Down the road, in the present time, she’s eleven and asked me about him and wanted me to tell her how he died, how I felt, and how her father and his brother took it.

This time, I didn’t sugarcoat the pill. She was ready to hear about pain and loss.

Two Minutes -tiny conversations

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The Two-Minute Wait

The twins were over eighteen months, and one-word or two-word conversations jerked along in English, Spanish, and Hindi. One day, Miraaya, the younger of the twins, wanted something, and she wanted it right now. She was getting impatient and I saw a tantrum coming up.

In an effort to stall it, I lifted my hand and patted the air gently and said, “Wait, wait,” and then, holding up two fingers, I continued, “Two minutes.” And I repeated that to make sure she got it.

“Two minutes?” she asked holding up two fingers.

“Yes, baby, please wait for two minutes,” I said emphasizing ‘wait.’

“Wait,” she echoed, patting the air gently the same way she had seen me do. I smiled in answer.

Whatever it was that had to get done, I forget what now, took longer than two minutes, but it didn’t bother me because Mia certainly wouldn’t know how long two minutes was. Well, that’s what I assumed.

The next morning, she woke up early and I went to her cot to greet her. She looked like a sleepy, disheveled cherub.

“Good morning, my little birdie. Morning, morning!” I said cheerily. She didn’t give the usual response. So I bent to hug her. 

“Wait, wait,” she said patting the air with her little hand, “two minutes?”

“Ok.” What now, I wondered highly amused. 

Then, laboriously, she hauled herself up and lifting her arms high demanded, “Dodi.”

She wanted me to carry her and used the Hindi word ‘godi’, pronouncing it her way. I lifted her out of the cot and put her down.

She took a leisurely walk around the house and came and stood in front of me.

“Morning, morning!” she smiled.

I had waited for more than two minutes! Was she telling me something?!

 

THE TWO-MINUTE ARGUMENT

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Amaara, the older twin can be quite assertive, most times, especially when she thinks she is right. Not one to give up without an argument or demonstration of some kind when vocabulary fails, she engaged me in an argument one day.

They were watching one of their TV shows and “The wheels of the bus” rhyme came up. She looked at it and knit her brows. The nanny had put on a different channel and the presentation wasn’t the same. The bus looked more like a van.

“Car,” she announced, pointing to the TV.

“Oh no, that’s a bus,” I said, deliberately baiting her.

“Car,” she insisted.

“Bus,” I stressed keeping a straight face, which was hard as suppressed laughter threatened to break free. She had taken the bait.

We bandied our opinions for a while until she lost her cool.

She drew her chubby little face closer to mine and in a loud voice and no-nonsense tone declared with finality, “Car!”

Unflinchingly, I brought my face close to hers and said firmly, but in a lower tone, “Bus!”

A staring match ensued. She was the first to turn away. Her little face showed confusion. She didn’t know how to react. She opted for diversion.

“Papa?” she asked.

“Office,” came my quick response.

“Mama?”

“At office, too.”

She repeated these questions a couple of times more. Then paused for a second or two. She had come to some conclusion. She leaned towards me again.

“Bus,” she said and smiled. I was surprised at how she resolved the whole thing. Small as she was, she acted like an adult!

I laughed and cuddled my little teddy bear.

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SLIP OF THE TONGUE AND GENTLE CORRECTION

We, the twins and I, were watching Gazoon, a cartoon featuring animals. It doesn’t have any dialogues or songs, so I had to do a running commentary and add tones, inflections, and drama to the whole show verbally. 

One evening, while the girls were having their dinner, Gazoon was on and I was going full swing with my narrative.

Hisssss...there comes the snake… he’s scary…oooh oh!”

“Scary…oooh,” and Miraaya brought up her clenched fists under her chin and faked a shiver!”

“Stomp…stomp…stomp…here comes the Elephant and there’s Cock-a-doodle-doo sitting on his head! Hahaha! So funny.”

“Cockadoo…doo, so funny,” they chorused and laughed.

“And what’s this? Someone’s coloring the clouds! Look, it’s a zebra…he’s painting the clouds.”

“Sky,” Miraaya quietly corrected me. She didn’t know what clouds were, she only knew ‘sky.’ So in her mind, I had made a mistake. I thought I’d show her clouds later and continued.

“Okay, sky,” I picked up from where I’d left off.

I looked at Miraaya, she seemed quite chuffed. I continued…

“Yes, and the giraffe is coloring the sky…” I got no further.

“Zebra,” Amaara quipped confidently. She knew she was right and her expression said it all. No scope for argument here.

“What?” I ask distracted. “Oh, yes, it is a zebra!” I laughed and they joined me.

I knew why I was laughing, I suspect they knew too! They’d won a point without any counter-arguments.

 

 

A Ferry Ride To An Island

“We’re going to an #Amusement #Park this Saturday.”

“Where?

“On an island.”

“An island?”

“Yes. It’s not too far. We’ll be taking a #ferry ride.”

“Okaay… How do you have an #island with no sea around?”

“It’s a river island.”

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Clicked from the ferry as we approached the Amusement park at Centre Island.

Satisfied with this info, I wondered what I’d do at the amusement park and all its rides. To see me on a normal day, of which, thankfully, I have many in the continuum of ‘good’, ‘not-so-good’, ‘better’ days, you’d wonder why I was skeptical about the rides and my inability to enjoy one if not all.

Well, my condition is unpredictable. I could be walking, bending, and doing things normally… and then, just like that, I’d be laid down with a lumbar disc issue which would leave me unable to walk, sit up or even turn myself on my side in bed; not to mention, the excruciating pain. And then, not to be left behind, are a cervical disc and knees that like to surprise me now and then. So every action, even though I am careful, can trigger terrible consequences. Although I am careful, things can go wrong with the most simple turn or bend I make.

So, I decided I’d be the official #photographer and resort to people watching to keep occupied and humored. I wasn’t disappointed. One encounter with a young couple and a grandma with her little grandson makes me laugh even now.

I was sitting on a bench and eating nachos while the rest were doing the rounds of a few rides that they had still to go on. A young, Indian couple with a cute little dog, a 5 month-old pup, sat beside me. I picked up a conversation about the pup. Soon, a granny, whose grandson was crying sought the pup as a good diversion for the little boy; it worked. He stopped crying and she swapped stories with the couple about their respective pets. Just as I lost interest in their conversation, the grandma turned to leave, her purpose in speaking to them being achieved. The pup began yapping at her back and she turned and waved to it. It wagged its tail. Then she turned to leave again and it yapped.

The young man apologized for his pup and explained his barking like this:

“He doesn’t want you to go. He wants to talk to you.”

“Yes, yes, I know,” she said.

“But he can’t talk, you see. That is why he is barking,” the young man elaborated.

The smile on the lady’s face froze and a glazed look replaced the warm one. I could see that the lady wasn’t sure how to respond to that. Was he daft or did he presume she was daft?

She nodded her head briskly and walked away.

I was indeed at the Amusement Park having my own #funny, #laughter #rides!

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Doodling

“Do you have hands? Excellent. That’s a good start. Can you hold a pencil? Great. If you have a sketchbook, open it and start by making a line, a mark, wherever. Doodle.”~Chris Riddell

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“Why do you carry such a big handbag when you go for a walk?” said my son rather disapprovingly.

“Why? What’s wrong if I do?” I countered, a bit surprised.

“Just saying,” he replied shrugging his shoulders and raising his eyebrows.

“I carry some things with me when I go for a walk. I need a roomy bag to accommodate them” was my matter-of-fact answer.

My bag gets a bit heavier when I take along one or two of my #granddaughters with me. Added to my diary/journal, pen, iPad, and other knick-knacks, I also carry a game or two that we play: Spot It! and Caterpillar, and loose notepapers and pencils (even a few color pencils) because I make up writing games with the elder one, Aly. Our walks usually have a break at Tim Hortons. I love the place and can while away hours writing or reading if I’m alone and not having #funwiththekids.

“A part of my design and inspiration ethos is that I carry around a leather notebook and I sketch in it, doodle in it, write notes in it, and I put pictures in it.”~John Varvatos

One of the activities Aly loves is #doodling. At times, unintentionally, it becomes specific and more about designing. I set the timer to 1 minute and 15 seconds, and one of us chooses a word and we start doodling to make the word an attractive design. She’s nine and very good with her drawing and imagination.

Here are some of the ones we’ve done. All were done within the time limit and some even before the timer alarm went off. After comparing and complimenting each other, we shaded in some undone areas, but there was no addition or subtraction to the basic drawing.

She’s really amazing. Considering she had no time to think up something and she completed each one in time, she certainly has talent. I’m not saying that because she’s my granddaughter! See for yourself, I’ve added names so you can tell Alyssa’s from mine.

“It just comes out of my subconscious. If you asked me to draw you a doodle, I couldn’t do it.”~Lois Frankel

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LOVE

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VIBES

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CHILL

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 KIDS

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 HOPE

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 CARE

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This one wasn’t a part of our timed #challenges, although we did them just as quickly as we did the others. This was done recently after we finished many different forms of word games and were relaxing with ‘doodh chai’ (extra milky tea) for her and a regular tea for me. Oatmeal raisin cookies boosted our energy 🙂

“I love jotting down ideas for my blog, so I doodle or take notes of all kinds of stuff that inspires me: the people I meet, boutiques I visit, a florist that just gave me a great idea for an interior design project, things like that.”~Maria Sharapova

 

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GK…Forgotten

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My posts, The Messenger, and ‘Superstitions, Myths and Black Magic’ would be unbelievable to some, so here are more believable and interesting pieces of GK, which I know I knew but discovered I didn’t know much of now… does that make sense? I’m putting up a playful, funny, post today. #notseriouspost.

Do go through it. Like me, you might find that you didn’t know a couple of things or you’ve forgotten a few things. I’m sure you’ll find a thing or two that puts a smile on your face, so don’t skip reading; be a sport and go through it.

I’d like to add, the blogger is not responsible for any discrepancies or falsehoods. The blogger didn’t have anything to write about…mental block…so has posted a forward she received some years back (forwarded many times, I presume!)

General Knowledge – Forgotten!

In the 1400s, a law was set forth in England that a man was allowed to beat his wife with a stick no thicker than his thumb. Hence we have: ‘the rule of thumb.’

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Many years ago, in Scotland, a new game was invented. It was ruled ‘Gentlemen Only, Ladies Forbidden.’ And thus, the word GOLF entered into the English language!

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The first couple to be shown in bed together on prime TV was Fred and Wilma Flintstone. (Really? I find that hard to believe)

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Coca-Cola was originally green. (Yuck!

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It is impossible to lick your elbow.

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The cost of raising a medium-size dog to the age of eleven: £ 10,120.00 (this was the cost 11 yrs back! Do the math.) My dog Heidi died at seven so I have no idea.

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The first novel ever written on a typewriter was Tom Sawyer.

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Each King, in a deck of playing cards, represents a great king from history.

Spades: King David

Hearts: Charlemagne

Clubs: Alexander, the Great

Diamonds: Julius Caesar

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Math: 111,111,111 x 111,111,111 = 12, 345, 678, 987, 654, 321

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If a commemorative statue of a person on a horse has the horse with both front legs in the air, the person died in battle.

It the horse has one leg in the air, the person died because of wounds received in battle.

If the horse has all four legs on the ground, the person died of natural causes.

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Q 1. What if you were to spell out numbers, how far would you have to go until you would find the letter ‘a’?

Q 2. What do bulletproof vests, fire escapes, windshield wipers, and laser printers have in common?

Q 3. What is the only food that doesn’t spoil?

 

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Ans: (1. One thousand. 2. All were invented by women! 3. Honey)

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*In Shakespeare’s time, mattresses were secured on bed frames by ropes. When you pulled on the ropes, the mattress tightened making the bed firmer to sleep on. Hence the phrase: ‘Goodnight, sleep tight.’

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*It was the accepted practice in Babylon, 4,000 years ago, that for a month after the wedding, the bride’s father would supply his son-in-law with all the mead he could drink. Mead is honey beer and because their calendar was lunar based, this period was called the honey month. We know it today as the honeymoon. (Betcha didn’t know that!)

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*In English pubs, ale is ordered by pints and quarts. So, in old England, when customers got unruly, the bartender would yell at them, “mind your pints and quarts and settle down.” It’s where we get the phrase, ‘mind your P’s and Q’s.’

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*Many years ago, in England, pub frequenters had a whistle baked into the rim or handle of their ceramic cups. When they needed a refill, they used the whistle to get some service. ‘Wet your whistle’ is the phrase inspired by this practice.

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At least 75% of the people who read this will try to lick their elbow!

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You are living in a hi-tech world and you do one or all of these things…

1. You accidentally enter your PIN on the microwave.

2. You haven’t played solitaire with real cards in years.

3. You have a list of 15 phone numbers to reach your family of three!

4. You WhatsApp the person who works at the desk next to you.

You also WhatsApp your kids in the upstairs room!

5. Your reason for not staying in touch with friends and family is that they don’t have WhatsApp, Messenger, Facebook, Instagram, and maybe no email address!

6. You pull up in your driveway and use your mobile phone to see if anyone is home to help you carry the groceries.

7. Every commercial on TV has a website at the bottom of the screen.

8. Leaving the house without your phone, which you didn’t even have the first 20 or 30 (or 60) years of your life, is now a cause for panic and you turn around to go and get it.

10. You get up in the morning and go online before your coffee or tea!

11. You start tilting your head sideways to smile. 🙂

12. You’re reading this and nodding and laughing.

13. Even worse, you know exactly who you are going to tell a few things from here and quiz them about some others.

14. You were too busy to notice there is no No: 9 on the list.

15. You actually scrolled back to check if there wasn’t a 9 on the list.

And Finally…

Now you’re LAUGHING. The post wasn’t that bad after all…

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AND STOP TRYING TO LICK YOUR ELBOW!

 

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Dashing Through The Snow

“As I took my children sledding this morning, I watched them fly down the hill – aiming for the jump and flying in the air. Getting the wind knocked out of them as they landed hard then climbing up to do it again – relentless and brave. 
I took a moment to be happy they are young and innocent and appreciate the simple thrill of going fast down a hill. I pushed my own nervous inclination aside and instead of saying “Be careful!” I said “Aim Straight!” Then I let them go down the jump again and again because in this world, we need to be relentless and brave and I need to be sure they don’t unlearn it.” 
― Elizabeth Tambascio

I can’t upload videos here so I’m uploading the pics. 

Getting the younger two ready for their first sledding experience. M aged 4 and Z aged 2+
I worried that Z would be scared… I needn’t have. She was excited and not a bit scared. Neither was M!

Back in my home country, my first experience of snow came when we moved from our country home in Punjab to the capital of Punjab & Haryana: Chandigarh. A small city then, in 1971. A brief about Chandigarh:

(It was one of the early planned cities in post-independent India and is internationally known for its architecture and urban design. The master plan of the city was prepared by Swiss-French architect Le Corbusier, which transformed from earlier plans created by the Polish architect Maciej Nowicki and the American planner Albert Mayer. Most of the government buildings and housing in the city were designed by the Chandigarh Capital Project Team headed by Le CorbusierJane Drew, and Maxwell Fry.  

Shimla was the temporary capital of East Punjab until Chandigarh was completed in 1960.) (source Wikipedia)

Chandigarh wasn’t very far from Shimla, a hill station and the capital of Himachal Pradesh in the Himalayan foothills, which sees heavy snowfall. The roads were fairly good, even back then, and every year, we’d keep an eye for the news of the first snowfall. Daddy would call the driver, Jaspal Singh, and we’d leave home very early. It would be only for the day. We returned in the evening! All we did was play in the snow. And, of course, we loved the drive. I was a teenager then. All snow-related experiences ended in my early twenties.

I moved away to a desert area and I got to know sand dunes and arid zones.

Decades later, I worked in a residential school (aka boarding school) in another hill station that experienced heavy snowfalls, but I never got to live the winters there. Residential schools closed for about three months in winter. By the time we returned, the snow had vanished even though the winter lingered!

Z gets in front and M climbs on behind. I thought it was a crazy idea… one of the kids would tumble off and get hurt! (age gap/generation gap…LOL)
As I watched, I couldn’t help feeling quite proud of this little one as she settled herself. She made herself comfy and secure. It was her 1st ride!!.
 Aly sat and watched them, patiently waiting her turn on the higher and steeper slopes on the other side.
 They weren’t done. Kept trudging back and sliding down again and again.

Fast forward to the present; I have snow all around me for months and I am not as keen about the snow as I used to be. It stays too long here and I can’t afford to ignore the consequences of walking out alone. What used to be a comedy when we fell, rolled or tumbled down a snowy bank or slipped on ice, will be a tragedy now 😀 #idontlikelongsnowywinters

But I do enjoy getting out to watch the kids when they go sledding. As long as I have an arm to steady me, I’ll walk on snow and dare the hidden ice beneath!

The Britt’s Pub & Eatery beckoned as I tried to keep warm and not 
fall as I 
clicked pictures of the surroundings.

Though I was tempted, I thought better of getting into Britt’s. I wanted to sit with the kids and hear their experiences and share their joy over some hot chocolate and tea later at Tims’s, closer to home!

Back at Tim’s, I listened to their endless chatter and basked in the glow of their joy.

A tired but happy bunch.

                                                 Thank you for visiting my blog!

 

 

Memories – Saudade

The best part of journaling is in the re-reading; it takes you on a wonderful walk down memory lane. I find it fascinating, amazing, surprising, poignant… I experience a whole gamut of emotions as I recall those parts of my journey. Things I had forgotten (not wiped from memory), tucked away in the recesses of my mind, revive.

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I like walking beneath the boughs of these memories. I’m reminded of many things, like this one – sharing silences. If you don’t understand my silences how will you understand my words was how I felt.

For me, an ideal partner and friend is someone with whom I can communicate with silences too. Someone who completes my silences. Someone who shares their silence with me.

This entry on Jan. 30, 2010 establishes that silences are intrinsic to my nature. And some more 😉

Someone to share my silences

I’m missing Nanan (David) more than ever before. I have no one to share my joy of becoming a grandmother for the first time. It’s an indescribable joy, wonderment, and thrill as well as anxiety for the mother and the child and hard to believe at some level; an ecstatic uplifting of mind, body, and soul. So difficult to put into words.

That’s why I miss him more. He would have been the only one who could have understood how I felt and shared every awesome moment with me, and there’d be no need for words as we waited to experience this miracle that’s waiting to happen.

How lonely it becomes at times like these.

It’s strange is it not, how not being able to share one’s silences brings on this emptiness in the soul. I can mail a thousand emails… okay that’s far-fetched… let’s say twenty emails to people and broadcast my joy. I can shout from the top of the roof… yes, they’re out there somewhere, the people I know. Those who will be polite and kind and smile and bob their heads. I look into their eyes and see the gleam that says…”you know nothing yet. Wait till you hear my story…”

I try to fill the gaps and pauses so they don’t get in edge-wise as I breathlessly rush through what I have to share but, as I take a short breath, my ears are swamped as they regale me with histories and accounts of their grandchildren. I find their stories not as exciting as mine… they’re histories… the ‘been there done that’. Why can’t they share my excitement… it’s new… not yet happened… sigh!

I listen and smile and bob my head.

Then there are the ones who are not even near being grandparents because their kids are unmarried or then, they are unmarried. So, they paste a grin on their faces which hurts me more than it does them. Their eyes hold the ‘what am I supposed to say and feel’ panic, as they launch into stories about their grandparents!

What! I almost scream, “Your grandparents are ancient, no parallel here. I’m on the threshold of becoming one.” But I smile and nod my head wondering why I shouldn’t truncate the conversation and end the ordeal on both sides!

Oh yes, I can get many ears to hear me… and all I want is someone who can listen with the heart; feel with the soul; communicate with my silences.

Yearnings!

So life goes on, and this world will keep on turning. Time for a cup of green tea. They say it’s good because of the antioxidants.

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I hung on the word “antioxidants.” 

So many years later, I wonder, “Now, what did you mean? what are you saying here?”

Here’s what I think I was doing subconsciously; detoxing my mind of its melancholic longings. But…

Five grandkids later, the saudade remains!

 

 

Tiny Conversations – Stork or God?

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The twins, Amu & Mia, joined a Montessori School and Day Care. It’s been a few days, actually. I was glad to hear they had settled in well and have already made friends. In fact, going by the latest conversation that drifted down, they’re doing pretty well in the socializing department 🙂

They are in lower kindergarten but at break time both higher kindergarten and lower KG kids play together. So they chat with the older children too. One fine day, the conversation veered to the twins’ class teacher Mrs. N. She is expecting and the topic under discussion was her tummy!

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“I am expecting and my 5-year-old asked how babies are made. I told him, ‘God took a piece of me and a piece of Daddy and he put them together to make a new baby.’ My 2-year-old studied me carefully and said, ‘I don’t see any bites out of you! What piece did God take?'” -Emily Clark

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What I gathered was that the twins and some others were wondering about her protruding tummy and some of the older kids informed them that there was a baby inside. Amu and Mia found that very interesting but weren’t convinced. So they decided to confirm it.

Twins: “What’s inside your tummy? Is it a baby?” they asked Mrs. N.

“Yes, it is,” she replied, amused.

“Oh!”

It was confirmed! There was a baby inside. That was sorted out but now another thought popped into their heads.

“Who put it there?” was the next question.

Mrs. N. wasn’t ready for that. She thought she had dealt with their curiosity. But they were eagerly waiting for more information. If there was a baby inside how did it get there?

I can imagine Mrs. N’s position. What should she say to these 4-yr-old, curious kids? And as the story proceeds, I realize that a lot hasn’t changed with the typical Indian mom/grandmom’s answers to this question.

“I prayed for a baby and God gave me a baby,” she said. (I imagine she must have prayed that they wouldn’t ask the “how” question!) 

“Ok,” they chimed. Thus ended that tiny conversation!

And like everything that you can’t comprehend about God but believe, they assumed it was something beyond explanation and went home satisfied. 🙂 They got their answers.

It amused me more because it reminded me of the time my younger brother was born. I was ten, these girls are just four, and I believed the “God gave the baby” story! I also believed He put the baby in a cradle in the hospital LOL. Talk about unaware, silly, dumbo… I was all that and more. OMGosh!

The part that tickles me more is; I hadn’t even noticed my mother’s tummy. Nothing appeared different or rather, I wasn’t the kind to notice such things. I spoke to her a lot and nothing about her face had changed!

So when I came home from school one day and couldn’t find mummy because she was in the hospital, I fell for the: “God dropped off your baby brother at the hospital and mummy has gone to pick him up” story hook, line, and sinker. I never noticed a big tummy, so it was the only way the baby could have come.

Besides, I was brought up with Bible stories and there are so many miraculous things there; I counted this as just one more. What’s funnier is that fifty-three years later, someone is repeating the same “God gave the baby” story. 

In my mother’s days, it was the stork. But that didn’t hold for long. Most kids weren’t familiar with this long-legged bird so soon God replaced the stork. Every child in India knew about God and his power to perform great miracles. It made him greater than Superman and Batman put together in their eyes. He could drop off babies anywhere; homes, hospitals. At least I believed that.

PS: For a long time I wondered if I was really picked up from a rubbish heap LOL. That’s what my elder sister often told me when we were at loggerheads. My doubts dissipated only because Daddy assured me that God wouldn’t be so unkind as to drop me in a garbage dump when I had a nice home and family waiting for me!

I’m sure the twins will not have such ‘tiny conversations’ when they are ten. Theirs will be a few notches above this. Our time was the time of radio, transistor, spool tape recorders, record players, and the ubiquitous big, black telephone! Knowledge was not a click away; at our fingertips, and no one spoke about the birds and the bees or sex education, not during our days.

So, where my granddaughters are at four, I was at ten! Now, things are different but only in certain sections of society. It’s still a taboo thing in most conventional homes. And that means a majority.