Dus Bahane Kar Ke

khair not actually ten months...ten and a half to be precise , however my repertoire of all things Bolly has failed to come up with anything that will mark the "half" milestone.

What will stay with me from the past six weeks?

Your gift of companionship as we explored cities.. some familiar, some new. And your sigh of relief as you finally had your beloved steamed apple after one breakfast too many of hash browns and beans.

You are finally moving..not exactly crawling in the classic sense, but swimming. It is quite funny to see you moving both arms in perfect synchronization and gliding your torso along. But whatever gets you moving baby. We discovered that we were doing it all wrong when we would ask you to move towards Baba or your mother sitting on either ends of the bed. Clearly what gets you moving is the TV remote. Michael Phelps meets Speedy Gonzales. We have something brand new to amuse us every evening, moving the remote and watching a flash of onesies making a bolt across the room. Our own "reality" TV show, literally making our own entertainment.

Your quizzical smile and the look in your eyes as you would tilt your head to a side, you sure about that, as I abandoned spoons to feed you with my hand at times, made you take your bath in a sink , stripping you down to your pampers when the mercury hit 42. Were we such creatures of habits, sweetheart? had your young life already become one of routine? I am making amends, precious.

You have gifted me new friends sweetheart. If it were possible to "genetically design" a good friend, and my meetings (and staying over ) with my blog friends are anything to go by, well the future of smart design and its likes looks good !! I have been shy in the past of discussing my "blog friends" meet ups, at the risk of it sounding like cyber world tourism meets tabloid voyeurism. But I think I am getting to a point when I can write about them in a manner that is not On the Fifth Day we Saw the Natives execute traditional Rain Making rituals. What will stay with me is how Parul, the Mad Momma, Kiran and their lovely families are a community of Do-ers. As in when they see something that irks them they actually roll up their sleeves and get into it. Whether its home renovation and Project Beautification, water conservation, energy saving, public service or Bringing Up the Well Behaved Child. I know that a lot goes on in the world and our lives that irks Gman and me, but to date we have believed thinking it aloud
Man, those glaciers are melting fast

or just telling each other
Do you think Arhaan's head is a tad flat


was enough. Biiiiingggg, Ghalat Jawab..we are the weakest link and we need to clean up our act.

And we meet friends old (Trishna) and new (Unmana). Lovely lovely people all. And proof that there is truth in advertising. As they write so they are.

Tony Bennett might have left his heart in San Francisco, but I dont know where I left my charger during my travels. So even though the Barjatyas have taught us dosti ka ek asool hai no sorry no thankyou (No minding of our Ps and Qs when it comes to friendship)I am sending out a biiigg soorry to all whom I didnt call back and a bigger thank you to Doha, Sydney, Brisbane, Delhi, Singapore, Bombay, Jaipur and its denizens for hospitality and love beyond the call of duty!!!

We are back in Dhaka now, the Baba is back to his I Cant Believe Its Not the Weekend, Mujhey Bilkul Saturday Lag Raha Hai routine. Between his Do I Have to Go to Work and my I Dont Want to Go Out, Im really wondering how we will ever get you to go to school. I have broached the idea of home schooling with many people wise and experienced but have not had any positive feed back. I did hear one of the Nobel Laureates (Physics) from this year speaking about being home schooled and there was some talk of lumber jacks as well, but for the moment we are enjoying you swim (literally) through the wading pool of life.


Yesterday was Victory Day in Bangladesh, and the Pakistani-Indians decided to do their bit by adding to the city's GNP and shopping for plants. We were accosted by a sea of green and red, as the whole city proudly wore their national colours. With the green and red of the holiday season it is a merry time of the year indeed. The Supreme Court of Pakistan has thrown out the NRO, Geo TV is playing Yeh Kiya Hua as Zardari and his stooges look pensively, the good Saiguni has fried some hot bhaji without even being told(I thank the Good Lord for Gman, you and her EVERY DAY!), and a Christmas tree you had been gifted during your travels is up and twinkling.

Happy Happy Ten and a Half Months Sweet Heart and thankyou for all the happiness you bring us.
Your loving Adey

Kabhi Alvidaa Na Kehna

This is just a big shout out to all my fans from the last post and a particular nod to one of the comments (from somethingstrangeandrich)

Overheard:
My mom telling my dad "my heart is breaking i know its good for me but i cant go yet ok i have my phone and its on and I will call you when I get there do you think its a good idea for me to go when he is still so small i should wait till he is older how can i go my baby my baby i miss him already you keep calling me" all this while my father gently pushes her towards the door.


The next door maid at this point respectfully asks our maid in hushed tones

" Madam is leaving for Hajj the pilgrimage"

" No no the beauty parlour" says the maid equally reverentially.

My father thinks we should be extra careful around my mother nowadays as she is having a tough time what with this Love Jihaad business and Muslim academics as the new villains that allegedly stealth about in the dark.

We are in Sydney today. Its 42 degrees. Stick a fork in me baby for Im DONEEEE.

Love ya, arhaan

Ek Sawal Main Karoo Ek Sawal Tum Karo

Kamon Accho? Ki Khobor?
You ask why Im blogging today instead of my mother? The mater is having one of her bad spells, and it is left to me to put fingers to keyboard. The amount of time Ive spent rolling over (yes yes a tumbling we go in recent days) and banging on the laptop, my mother said its about time I make myself useful. So what have I been up to? Well Im trying to pick up a fair bit of Bangla as you can see. I might not be saying much, my repertoire is restricted to Mumumum, Bubbaabaaa,ditditdit, Eeeeee, and uhhuhh (in three different pitches) and humming to every song but everyone feels Im THINKING in Bangla. Oh well.

OK next question. What keeps me occupied here? Well, I remain fond of blowing raspberries. I do also play with my toys. Though my mother thinks Ive got the operative principle wrong and use them more as a gada/ club to bludgeon everything in sight. The other day I was successful in dismantling something that involved stacking wooden rings. She was very upset, what with it being German and sturdy and meant to be used for a number of years.
How did you do this? she screamed.
Well she would have been very pleased with me if she could have made out what I said in apology (her being a Bollywood buff and all).
Khilona Toy (Gaadi) toh aapki videshi hain, sahab, lekin haath zara Hindustani pad gaya...
(Your foreign made toy just encountered a desi fist)

I hear you also want to know about my Katrina fascination. Well, I had just developed the fine art of distinguishing her songs and appearances from the plethora of new channels appearing on our TV, when my mother decided that she had had enough of Paisa Paisa, May Teree Dhadkan, Mann Ka Radio, Tum Mile played on a loop, and how many times could one snigger at the Nazar Surakhsha ads. Hmmmph. I was a sad baby when she pulled the plug literally on the TV. But not as sad when I woke up one night to see that the parents had put on their projector and were watching Gulaal. No more mindless drivel, my diaper clad ass. My mother was telling her friends how I timed my waking up to the strumming of Mahi Gill's ghungroo. I dont know who timed what, but after a diet of the vegetarian Katrina Kaif on the small screen it was a shock to see a non-veg Mahi prancing about on the wall. My mom said I looked quite the corrupt Sub Havaldar Gulsher in my vest as I leaned on my elbows and ogled at Ms Gill. She had to be replaced by Baby Van Gogh, yeahh to me.

OK coming to my mother's black mood. She says its a sorry day when mothers (especially her mother) dont have answers for their children. Yesterday she was screaming on the phone at her "What do you mean there is no solution to the current crisis? Yes, yes I know its our own Frankensteins, our zombie chickens come home to roost. But what should we be doing now?" My grandmother has no answers. And that scares my mother like anything.

My father, ever the " lets put out the fires that we can" kind of man has sprung some tickets for me and the mother to accompany him on a work thing to Doha. It aint Switzerland, but then it isn't South Waziristan either.
Now my question to you is
Tumi ki amake bhalobaso? Should I continue blogging off and on?
Arhaan

Aya Mausam Dosti Ka

My husband has just fixed a play date for me...the other day we played pass-the-parcel of who is more unsocial amongst us. I cant remember what brought about the conversation but it ended with him accusing me of lacking a desire to step out of my comfort zone and befriend people. What rubbish, I declared, giving him a long list of people I keep in touch with. He thinks that many in the list are people I only exchange emails with and perhaps thats the way I want to lead my life. I like telling myself that Im socially awkward and it takes me time to open up but Im a very loyal friend once that process is over. And he is a fine one to talk with his "my only good friends were those I made in school" philosophy. Khair, to prove me wrong or him right (hahahahha) he has arranged for me to have tea with a colleague of his who is having some girlfriends over. I hate the idea already. As I was telling someone its quite possible that at a certain stage in your life you just dont want to get out of the house, you finally have a space that is organized to suit you and your needs..perhaps its not that bad to be a recluse.
Arhaan, I have realised has none of our disease to shy away from people, he has become quite the performing monkey and was in his element at a wedding the other day. I have become one of the moms who draws perverse pleasure in dressing up her kid in ridiculous outfits!!



Babu Moshai!!
Wish me luck as I hum Mujh Sey Dostee Karogey
P.S: Ooohhh maaa! I was watching Zoom as i typed..the promos of Radio are on..after giving me one heart attack with an " urban urbane" Himmesh (Yes, its REALLY complicated!) did my ears just hear him being someone's eff buddy?!!!! Mujhey utha do bhagwan.

Baar Baar Dekho Hazaar Baar Dekho

ke dekhne ki cheez hai hamari Katrina Kaif...taali ho.

As we draw closer to the day you turn nine months old, this could be the soundtrack to meal times. No TV watching for baby, huh who sedddatt? We have long got down off that high horse. Right around the time when we started petitioning Cerelac to put Katrina Kaif's picture on the cereal box. Katrina Kaif ka secretary might not have prayed that hard she stays in business and uskey gaaney chaley on every channel jitna Ive been praying to the media gods to play her songs in a loop come dinner time. The first time you laid eyes on the comely maiden you went

Duhh I Thought I Saw a Puddy Cat?

No Puddy Cat nahee beta, Kat...corrected your mom gently.

You stare at her mouth agape and it has been very easy to shovel the food in.

The kabhi khushi kabhi gham temperamental Chayya has been joined by the cheerful Shaguni. She has literally been the good news of my angsty month so far. She was hired to cook some but mostly help out with you. However she is doing everything but that as your mother is still struggling with The Rules of (Dis)engagement when it comes to you. I had told myself that I will feed and change you , the dad will continue with Giving Baby A Bath and general uff how much i miss baby at work routine and Madam Shaguni could amuse the baby while I am at my writing table. But it seems so tempting to join in in all the fun when you are playing with her. Im new at this. My mother was lucky as she belonged to the mother's club that came with family crone and waisey bhee they were sensible types who didnt stress that much about constructive play and led their lives while baby played in the corner. Im trying to get there but you make it so so hard. Your father could tell that we needed help, as you were just not the kind of baby who could " make his own entertainment", I was pretty vehement that I didnt need someone full time as I dont want my privacy compromised. Your dad parroted the privacy hypothesis when friends suggested getting help until I realised that people might think we have quite the swinging lifestyle that we want to keep private....we are very very boring I swear. So enter Shaguni the 8 to 4 types who could make life pretty easy for me if I let her. She has been quite the Kitchen Queen and has been whipping up one culinary feast after the other . Yes with her and Katrina in my corner we will fatten you up pretty soon. And Im hoping the universe (and all you who comment on this blog out there) could help me with my other questions. Will you ever become independent? Who is responsible for what when it comes to the help and me? Will I ever lose my weight---I must be the only mother who gained weight AFTER having the baby.

I hope you do realise that I have made no reference to the Annus Horribilis Pakistan has suffered so far...let some days be just about you and not my personal demons. And its a small concession after all that you have done to cheer me up in such gloomy times. I realise that the speed with which you pick up things to make me laugh might be an attempt on your part to compensate for all that makes me sad. Your recent trick has been to push your tongue against your lower lip and push out your mouth making the most grotesque monkey face ever. But oh so cute. You are a wise kid and want no documentary proof to be used against you in future switching to smiley faces when I whip out a camera.

I hope your mother and some 180,808,000 people who share your genetic pool get their act together and give you a safer and happier tomorrow.

All my prayers,

Aday

jab tak rahega samosey may aloo

Last night i had an argument with gman as he once again brought home this sorry potato-carrot-pea bhara samosa "acha so is this the potato samosa you are always hankering about"? and I had to repeat my chant of no no no , its boiled potato cut in cubes (NOT MASHED), zeera, chili flakes filling encased in a thick not flaky pastry. He shrugged his shoulders exasperated "I think tumharey imagination may hai, there is no such samosa". I fought back my tears. No its not a figment of my imagination. Just as

long summer evenings breathing in raat ki rani

motiya flowers at traffic signals and the fragrance filling up your car

twilight in summers marked by spraying water on the bricked courtyard, pulling out the GFC fan, dragging out the chairs turning the TV around so you watched it sitting outside, late night gup shup and listening to the BBC bulletin on the radio before turning in for the night.

winter evenings sprawled in front of the heater doing heater math. too close and my cheek burns move an inch and i feel cold. breathing in damp clothes set out to dry. Giggling at Razia Butt and A R Khatun novels....Rehaan Rehaan Rehaan. Somehow winters meant Ammi Jans and Bari Buas and Afshan, Farrukh and saunf supari. Summers were Queen's Library and the entire Louis L'Amour collection.

my only fear that the Russians will invade us. And it wont all be the cheap Russian air conditioners, sardine tins, chocolate raisins and notebooks flooding the market. Years afterwards someone asked me if I thought all the cheap food was courtesy the toxic larders of Chernobyl. Im not glowing in the dark yet.

our annual CMH pilgrimage for our shots and our glee when the orderly said some God forsaken childhood disease had been eradicated.

Is not all a figment of my imagination.

There is a couplet in Urdu:

Ab ke hum bichde to shaayad kabhi khwaabon mein mile

If we were to part today our only hope is to rendezvous in dreams (apologies for the translation. Never ask a Pathan to translate Urdu)

I might dream the past which is another country but only when my nightmare ends.

nazar and all

This morning Arhaan laughed in his sleep...it was not a giggle, not even the smiling in his sleep followed by a content sigh combo we have been observing for a while. It was a full-on Ha! Ha! Wasnt That So Hilarious chuckle. There have also been times in the past fortnight when he has babbled in his sleep, sleeping burh-burh as they called it in some movie (now if someone could tell me which movie its from..I think its Maine Piyar Kiya) . Which can only mean one thing...he is becoming a person...like he will not be The Mouth at the other end of the spoon, or Someone who Has To Be Watched lest he rolls off the bed/couch/lap or That Wail From The Corner that has to be minded forever. Its interesting, I will be laughing at something I am reading and I look down at my lap and there are these two dancing eyes with a question So Tell Me Tell Me Whats So Funny. He is also now somewhere at the borderline of empathy, so if Im crying watching television (and frankly there is a lot of crying if you are watching the news lately) he will have a quizzical expression followed by a nervous laugh. Less TV for me Im afraid until I learn how to control my reactions. But Im nervous as soon he will be asking me questions about the world I have brought him into and I better have some good answers.

In other news I was nursing a sore throat for a while, which thanks to the fertile air around here has turned into a pretty interesting cough. Arhaan beychaara bhi kab tak bachta..he ran fever last Sunday which went away after a dose of paracetamol and this morning he has been coughing like a seal. Paediatricians visited and all. Of course if some people are to be believed its the evil nazar and at the doctor's this morning Arhaan seemed pretty conspicuous being the only kid with no big fat kala teeka on his forehead. He had been gifted the ubiquitous black gold bead nazar, and my sister asks me every other day if I am doing the red chilly ka nazar. Now Im pretty good with saying the necessary prayers now and then in the evening. But I have to admit Im pretty lax about putting on the bracelets and well the chillies that were bought are floating in my daal (lentil) curry . I have asked Gman whether we should be doing any of the warding off of the evil nazar, and he just shrugged his shoulders but I bet he was thinking Actually I would rather you were not giving the baby your germs honey. Khair, what to do. The baby would do Sooraj Barjatya proud with his Hum Saath Saath Hain mantra towards life. I tried sleeping in another room but he was visibly distressed and would keep on waking up. And the other night when I returned to bed after my nocturnal internet world darshan, he just looked at both his parents, took a big contented sigh and smiled and went back to sleep. So shweeet what to do?!!!