Shambhavi

 Kids are a blessing, Bacche man ke Sacche (kids are honest), Kids are innocent & sinless…Children make your life important!… I know and I have heard of all that and more my whole life- even so when I hear of anyone having kids- my first thought is “Your life is ruined coz you will never be anything anymore in your life.”  It isn’t that I started to hate kids at some point in my life, after all I was once a kid myself and didn’t hate other people my age- I think it’s a behavior or an acquired taste that I could never well ... acquire- liking kids. 

I am the younger child with only one elder sister, so I never had to take care of kids or deal with anyone younger to me, even cousins were mostly my age give or take a few years. We always hung out with family friends in similar situations so – yeah never.

The first time I was thrust upon the responsibility of another tiny human, was in middle school. A young mother told me & my friends to look after her son on his first day of school in the school bus.  Although caught off guard we didn’t hesitate in saying yes – simple enough right? – Wrong! It was a terrible idea! The minute the kid got into the bus he wouldn’t stop crying… we couldn’t understand what he was bawling about… at first we thought it was “ buwaaa maaaa…”- Mother? He vehemently shook his head and screamed louder, this time we thought it sounded like he was asking for --- “Indicaaaa” – Car? You are in bus baba... Three of us took turns and were pretty frustrated by the end of the 45-minute bus ride and were about to give up when a small girl came from the front of the bus towards where we were sitting, smiled and said “I am Chandrika”; the boy stopped crying, dried his own tears and made space for her to sit. I mean honestly… no idea, no respect, no acknowledgement of the kind of time we spent on him! So ungrateful… What rights do kids have? To treat adults like this? AND that’s when it hit me. I am an adult- almost. And this whole kids thing… what a waste! Why would anyone willingly put themselves up to be treated like this for the rest of their lives?

My mum said that the feelings would develop when the time came. I finished college and my friends started getting married and pregnant - left right and center- and I started to lose touch with most of them. Lost to the abyss of motherhood really, in the initial days, I used to gossip about “them-girls” with the “us” girls. But slowly and surely the gossip pool kept getting smaller and it became pretty clear to me that most women secretly/not so secretly know just wanted to be Mother Earth. With the advent of the late 90s came the great Pandora’s box- AKA the internet- I started reading more and more junk articles about women choosing career over marriage and kids and I knew which group I belonged to- well at least there was a group. And so went on with my life as planned, I did have few close brushes with these little monsters– none of which endeared them to me or vice versa. This one time a 4-year-old daughter of my friend’s that I was babysitting - as a huge favor to the awesome time we once had- decided to draw my portrait. I was intrigued and sat still for 5 minutes but whatever I was feeling was short-lived. For in her masterpiece she had very carefully replicated & placed at the exact location each and every pimple /facial mark that I had. This kind of insult, from a creature who could barely eat her own dinner. If anything, these incidents just furthered my distance with kids.

Time didn’t stand still, and pretty soon my own sister had a baby girl. I will be honest, I did my best to avoid being at her place in those initial years, but if ever I got caught maybe once or twice I have changed her diapers. It didn’t alter my thinking though. I saw her grow up even- she learnt to walk, she learnt to say her first few words, her first days at nursery. And while I admitted that my niece was quite cute actually –yes not every child is cute-  she was still a bit of a responsibility that I would soon get tired of. My mom would try her best to evoke some responsibility – if not emotion from me- “You are a Maasi, it means you are like her mother- Behave like one!” 

Then came a day - I had joined a new team, I was given a low level piece of work, I was having a throat infection so wasn’t eating properly and daily there was some or the other issue because of which the commute was just horror. I came back from office and decided to go to my sister’s house. My niece and her next door neighbor friend were running back and forth from one house to another, screaming and destroying everything in their way. I sat down in the drawing room and my sister asked me if I wanted to eat something- while she was in the kitchen, I don’t know what happened to me but I broke down and started crying on her sofa! It was so weird, I was overwhelmed and it became clear that I couldn’t stop so I was about to get up and leave when my niece came towards me and placed her tiny hand on my hand. I looked at her, with her big, suddenly mature eyes, as if she understood without my saying what was happening, a small piece of Parle biscuit in her other hand and a piece of it stuck in the corner of her mouth. I gave out a laugh & said “Its ok dear, am ok.” – But my god, she didn’t blink, she didn’t move her hand, she didn’t change her expression of understanding & empathy. Yes- it wasn’t sympathy- my niece all of 5 years old knew how I felt that day. I have no doubts about it, how else would we have sat there for so long, why else would she have ignored her friend and come and stood there with me? No- I didn’t suddenly find the religion of motherhood that day- but am equally sure that my niece without words consoled me on one of my darkest days.

I am more practiced now, if someone starts talking about their kids I start talking about my niece – and it’s a win-win – either my nieces’ accomplishments will trump their kids’ & if they don’t well then – she isn’t my child so no judgement there; I am I feel at least a little less artificial when dealing with their little ones as well. But most importantly, now more than ever, I spend some quality time with my niece. And not just pretend play but I actually play with her, fair and square win or not win. Tell her if I am bored with dolls and make sure I finish the color sketch she gives me. She is my friend now – I feel the need to grasp these moments when in her innocence I feel cleansed of the worries of the world. In the end the quotes do have the truth in them - “The soul is healed by being with children.”- Fyodor Dostoyevsky. 

All time music 7 - STs Never ending playlist

We moved to London. Yaay. We bought a TV. Double yaay.  With TV came the TV license and with that came the various advertisements. One such ad was about Mercedes electrc car and i heard this music while preparing food in the Kitchen. I didnt know who the guy was or anything but then thats the power of google - It has become my go to song. If i had been asked what's the song to signal sex, i would say - Blinded by the lights by The Weeknd

Why?  I dont really know...its the music mostly not the words so much.... but if i had any knowledge about music i would say its this raag which i love...i feel like i have heard this tune before but ofcourse i cant .... its so lively... like "wake me up...before you go...." or maybe like the bollywood song "bin tere sanam...." dont know... wish i was more musically inclined ..but till that time or till that life... here's the song :) 

Grapevine Gossip Girl. The new girl.

 

Our school has been a haven. Over the years I have tried to understand why. It is because of lack of bullies. During teenage, we girls would have been objectified by the boys. But maybe because we were the eldest or second oldest we always felt strong and would shoot down the boys if they started any nonsense. It always felt like we were in control. Then came the outsiders. A flock of new girls that changed the pattern. They brought in glamour and discontent in our quaint little village.

Most never lasted long enough. They stayed maybe a term or the ones who stayed gelled into the fabric of our school and assimilated in the fabric of our school. And became just one more part of the heirarchy. With every new addition we would see the guys go crazy fighting over her. Gradually either the girl would bend to our wishes or leave the school. Harsh but that was the rule of our small town.

However, the one that stays in mind is the arrival of a pretty Sardarni whom we all tried to put in a box. An innocent looking girl box, or the poor little rich girl box. When she got top marks in a mathematics test we didn’t know what to do with her. Should we put her in the intelligent nerdy box too?  We were flummoxed. We did see the same level of fanatic infatuation that guys used to have over “claiming” a girl. But this was different. She had come into the science section. Hate to say it- but considering we were in the studious section – we considered ourselves good looking and important. It was like this was our village/town and we were the mafias. Now there was a heirarchy still amongst us, some sort of power struggle for the position at the top. Few weeks passed and we were not able to do or say anything about her coz she was friendly too!

One extra sunny afternoon, I was hanging out with my close girl friends around the playground. Not playing but as usual gossiping about the still new for us “new girl”. We were going to have a party that weekend and were discussing what to wear. When one of my friends wondered as to what She would wear. Something yellow and black like a taxi – I said and all of us giggled. Inside my heart of hearts, I quite liked the yellow and black combination which everyone thought looked like a taxi but I felt looked like a honeybee. Another said something about her hair being ugly brown – again something I knew we all wanted because her hair shone like almost golden brown colour in the morning assembly and not rough but always smooth as if she had done keratin treatment. Someone said something about her upperlip being too hairy- I smiled and licked my own upperlip- knowing that the dig could have been on my facial hair as well because my mom had not yet allowed me to thread or wax it. Citing some causal relationship between removal of hair and pursuit of studies.  

My thought and irritation was interrupted by an annoying friend who exclaimed “The party – oh yeah… She was saying “Let me see how you guys have a party “”. Now here is when tone & punctuation matter, but what matters most is the intention of a person. My pre-conceived notions and jealousy about her immediately made me feel as if the Sardarni had said these words as a challenge – Like , “oh really… let me see just how you will have a party.”

I impulsively reacted “ What ? How dare she ? why does she think we haven’t had parties before! That’s it… I am cutting her off…” The girls were maybe a bit suprirsed but none of them said anything and from what I can remember they all sort of agreed to this plan implicitly. And so we had the party, we had fun. One of my guy friends asked why the new girl is ostracised by the girls of the class and another one bluntly explained that its because we are all envious of her. Defensively I said that she was being rude and haughty and that we don’t need to justify to the boys who are blind in love with her anyways.

Anyhow, after this the poor girl started scoring low in subjects – specially Mathematics. It also started reflecting in her looks. I didn’t feel anything for her. Nothing. Maybe because envy always been the emotion or vice that I have identified myself with the most. This went on for few weeks and then surprisingly, one day she turned up at my address. I had no clue how she got to know my address but I dare not misbehave in front of my mom and so I invited her in. She then told me her side of the story and I decided to call up that annoying stupid idiotic female who had said this in the first place. On the phone when I asked her exactly what she had the Sardarni say, she immediately accused me of passing the blame. Feeling embarrassed, caught out and humiliated – I told the silly female to keep the phone and turned to apologise to the Sardarni for the pain that I caused her.

Not so surprisingly, she was welcomed by open arms (literally) by the guys in our class. She did become an important person in our group a few years later. And now after decades none of us are in touch with her directly- again apart from some guys who still cyber stalk via Facebook.

Oh. To be young and feel the intensity of envy. Envy.