Happy Birthday Anshul

“Life is a daring adventure or nothing at all.”

As my husband turns a year older and (hopefully) wiser again this year, I write a customary letter to him, like every year. But this year is different: it’s completion of a year in Germany – a foreign land with a foreign language and with everything that wasn’t so familiar or friendly at first.

First year here, was a rush — a flood of emotions, anxieties, tears and laughter. There was a profound fear of living in a new country, and though it reduces after a while, it never completely disappears as time goes on. It simply deviates. The unrest that was once focused on how you’re going to make new friends, adjust, and master the nuances of the language gradually becomes one recurrent question “What am I missing?”  That said, too often, we focus on the needs of the mother and child, who are to settle in a new country and often forget that daddies need love and support too – for it’s a new unexplored world for them too. For us, Anshul played the glue that bonded us together, while trying to find our place in a new country, while he carried out silent acts of tenderness between the seams. I couldn’t have made it through the past year without my husband – and I can’t imagine going forward without him.

The past one year has flown by, and it feels like a drop in the bucket, doesn’t it? As I sit here, writing this for him, after yet another failed attempt at making a cup cake for his midnight celebration (It’s awful!), and my endless other failures like these, I know, I wouldn’t trade it for anything.  Also, it fills my heart with pure marvel to know that the “best” is right now; and still yet to come. Here’s a letter to my husband.

Dear Anshul,

This life time is void of matter comparable to you

But

In the past one year, I have so many words to express, what you mean to me

You are a squall of wind when I can’t breathe

We hike the world together, passing long and rigorous pine trees

Your back is a mountain, trials cannot triumph over it

Your eyes are the hurried oceans,  that calm me

You are the lone pharaoh, of our dwelling

You are a belief and assertion, when I cannot form one

You are endurance, in our marathons you run

You are still in contention, you are always here

You are strength, when I have an insolence

You are almost more than 2,980 days of the right choice

You are the pillories of why I rejoice

You are a comrade, shield, and love like no other

A toast to you, My Husband…

Shall I pour another?

Happy Birthday to you.

Love, M

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Auteur 

I am a Mom!

I am a Mamma.

I am a builder, exploring ways to build a magical wonderland full of forts and castles in 60 seconds with bowls, spoons, plates and a pan.

I am a Master Chef, taking orders on "the fly" in order to gratify a son who wants a bagel sandwich, then pizza, then chicken wings, then omelet, then fruit mix... and then nothing at all when he decides he’s "not hungry."

I am a diplomatic negotiator, strewing classic public breakdowns using any technique needed.

I am an addict, puffy eyes and twitching, looking for the nearest caffeine dose after a long night of constantly inspecting monsters under the bed and well, sometimes over it too.

I am a ninja, refining my talents of inaudibly escaping my son’s room after bedtime story.

I am a joker, performing bizarre tricks, jokes and dances at my son’s demand.

I am a law enforcement agent, struggling to impose rules while the guilty party attempts to escape from the scene of the crime.

I am a storyteller ( that’s the best part I guess), persistently creating convoluted tales about what how Santa manages to squeeze his fat tummy through a chimney or what the Tooth Fairy does with all of the teeth she collects?   Or how the Easter Bunny visits every child’s house without getting exhausted.

I am a fashion designer, crafting Superhero costumes, spiky hair n some days and matching shoes on the other.

I am a forensic expert, scrutinizing mysterious items/stains and trying to ascertain their source.

I am a singer, required to sing “Twinkle Twinkle Little Star” with full lyrics on a daily basis. And then learn some more.

I am an abstract artist, attempting to find beauty in blobs of colors, scribbled stick figures.

I am an event manager, organizing frequent play dates with my son’s friends

I am a politician, compelled to exploit bribes, marketing and prolonged dialogues to persuade my son to do the simplest of tasks.

I am a Mamma.

So are you. Cherish it.

There is not just the second Sunday of May that can express, with fierce and undaunted honesty, the sacrifices made, body changes undergone, and uncertainties that obviously sneak in, about ever getting back to where you were, who you were, and what you were doing before becoming a mother -- all while concurrently cherishing your new designation. Its complex stuff, the grey areas of human emotion, and it is all carried with grace within this beautiful ballad.

Here’s to all doting moms, especially mine, on Mother’s Day – You are a Hero!

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Happy Birthday Anshul

Dear Anshul,

Do you think that when we met 8 years ago (well, met again after 13 years, since from where we left at childhood), I thought you were the man of my dreams? Of course I didn’t! We were so different from each other? Yet I had no idea the profundity and abundance our relationship would take after a decade. My younger self longed a partner that was centered in his own being, strong yet sensitive, and eager to grow and evolve with me. What I didn’t anticipate however is how much trust, communication and commitment is required to really nurture a marriage – to let each one of us to stretch and embrace the inescapable internal and external changes, while still holding a united direction in life. - Our identities and interests and jobs have all shifted. Where we live has changed intensely, and more than once! We have globetrotted together.  Friends have been made and parted ways with, houses have been made into homes, bags packed and unpacked and then packed again and then some more. And yet, we are essentially two people who believe in the power of love. Who believe in our own strength and unequivocally cheer for each other. Who have discovered a way to steer through all the transformation and surfaced even more in alignment with our true substances, rejoicing each other’s light. Yet our relationship isn’t all rainbows and fairy wings. We keep allowance and make space for the small and big fears and gnarly places within.

After so many years of planning surprises for you, now I know you are not wild about celebrating your birthday, but I could not resist celebrating you. I treasure the day you came into this world. I cherish the day you came into my life and we held hands and dived into the unknown. And I cherish each day forward.

We will blink one day and be 90 – maybe more? So as we slog and soar high, buy groceries, fight about shelf spaces in the wardrobe, and envision living in our dream house by the beach, as we snuggle and sometimes snarl, I remain ever thankful and ever yours.

I love you Anshul. Happy Birthday my love.

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A Letter to the Father of my Son

Happy Father's Day

Dear Anshul ~

Life is often demarcated as the existence of vitality in its many complex and radiantly intricate forms. We are only voyagers and bystanders here, carving out and discovering the varied gorgeous ways in which to live our lives to the fullest.

Almost 3 years back, in February I told you that I was expecting. What a day that was!  I still can’t forget your bedazzled and surprised to the hilt expressions. Fast forward 3 years now, and I am astounded at how perfect the love of my life is at being a "Dad".  Many men are fathers.  Some are great at it, others nose-dive completely.  It takes a special something to be a "Dad".  You dove into the parenting furrows with me instantly.  You changed blowout diapers, tried to take vomit in your hands, rocked our son to sleep (even if it was with a non-melodious lullaby you sang!), solaced him when he cried.

I've had the pleasure to watch you evolve as a father and witness your natural capacity to flourish and clasp the “actual things that matter”; sentient time offered to our son, regardless of what kind of day you've had at work and the never-ending to-do items which fall on the sticker every weekend.

You invite our son into your life.  He’s seen you cry.  You've rocked him when he’s cried.  There’s been laughter…immense laughter and glee.  And there’s been the business of smoothly helping him as he’s beginning to steer his own path in life.  The love I see him reciprocate to you is beyond measure.

So, dear husband of mine – I know I don’t say it often, but would like to say it today - “Thank you”.  Thank you for being the Dad you are supposed to be, when several others do not come up to scratch.  I thank you for meeting me midway on life’s greatest escapade and I thank you for being every bit of the dad for our son that my dad has been for me.  Thank you for holding our son when he cries. Thank you for reading him stories with immense fortitude and fervor .Thank you for unwearyingly singing his favorite rhymes over and over and over again.  Thank you for teaching our son how to value the good in life and how to take the bad, with endurance and a hope for a better tomorrow.  For all this, and many many more things- including my own dad (I’m still your little girl who loves to hold your hand, Papa), I am thankful.

Anshul, your cape is not always visible.  You go unappreciated a lot of times.  But as Super dads and Superheros go, you are the best. Happy Father’s Day to the Best Dad my son could ever have.

Now, there's a wriggly spider on the wall, can you take care of that please?

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Auteur

Letter to the World - On my Son's First Day to School

Dear World,

My son begins his first day at school today. It's going to be unusual
and different to him for a while.
And I hope you would somewhat treat him mildly.
You see, until now, he's been king of the roost.
He's been boss of the yard.
I have constantly been around to fix his pains,
and to pacify his moods.

However from hereon-things will be different.

This morning, he's going to march down the road,
wave goodbye and begin his great escapade
that will doubtless consist of conflicts and heartbreak and distress.

To co-exist and live his life in the world, he will need
belief and affection and valor.

So, Dear World, I hope you would embrace him by his little hand
and explain him the lessons he will have to know. Teach him-but softly, if you can.
Teach him that for each crook there is a superman;
that for each twisted politician there is a devoted leader;
that for each foe there is a friend.
Teach him the miracles of books and show him a whole new world that they can open for him.

Provide him quiet time to wonder about the timeless secret of birds in the sky,
flowers on the distant hill and bees in the sun.
Teach him it is far more worthy to be unsuccessful than to be a cheater.

Teach him to have conviction in his own philosophies,
even if everybody else tells him he is wrong.
Teach him to trade his brawn and brains to the premier bidder,
without ever putting a value on his heart and soul.

Teach him to shut his ears to a wailing multitude...
and to stand and combat if he believes he's right.

Teach him softly, Dear World, but don't cosset him,
because fine steel is made through test of fire.

Dear World, I trust you.

I am giving you my heart and soul – My boy.

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And He Turns 2!

To My Dearest Son - Ahaan,

You are my rockstar and you turn two today! Your daddy and I can barely believe it. Your 2^nd year has been full of outstanding transformations for you, as this denotes the year that you grew up from a "baby" to a "child." As you arrive at the end of your 2^nd year on this earth, it is astounding to see how you have grown to be "you."

You have reached the stage in your life where I can no more confine you to overviews like "joyful," "shy or "peaceful" for the reason that you are a full and round boy. You are bursting of contradictions and distinctions. You are concurrently keen to gratify and extremely obstinate (just like your mom). You love helping your mom in the middle of her busy days, and have also comprehended the power of your favorite word - “no" and being adamant. You are both tranquil, observant, carefully watch what goes on around you, and untamed, opting to unleash and free at the drop of a hat. You are courageous, but still preserve that swift requirement for consolation and comforting words at even the slightest of wounds – “Mamma, Aaana hurrrt”. ‘Aaana’ is what you call yourself.

Here are some of your personality traits which I love about you -

Bright: I am astonished at how much you are familiar with at your age. You can count to 20 and till 10 (in Hindi). You also know ABCD very well. You pick up everything we say and repeat them with amusement and dexterity. You already know letters and their connected sounds (thanks to all those Phonics videos!). As and when you are lucky to find a pen or a pencil, you sketch abstract scrawls – even on Walls- and then spurt off lists of what those scribbles are--all of which really look like your fine art.  You also know most of the rhymes and ‘Johnny Johnny yes papa’ seems to be your favorite of the lot. You have started attending various Toddler classes like Tiny Tots and First Time Friends and enjoy most of them, discovering a new thing to learn each time.

Affectionate: The delight I feel when I hear you yell out for me, or your daddy, is inexpressible – “Mamma, I waaant dis” or “Daddy, come soon”. It’s all so magical as we never get tired to hear you say that. There is a glow in you and it nurtures when you share it with everyone who comes within your aura of love and warmth. You liberally give love, which is only just beginning to convert from open-mouthed greeting of kisses to crumpled up smacks. You incessantly pass on your “Hii Aaan-tee” and “Hi Un-kal “ ( uncle) to passing by people. They have no option but to respond back to you with love. You generously pass on your hugs to everyone and did I tell you how that makes it better for all of us?

Amusing: You have already started making your own funny stories, playing pranks on mamma all day long, and communicating your understanding of your humor. You have totally picked on your Daddy’s gene pool in this regard, as most of your humor revolves around catching mamma off guard, breaking down things, hopping, leaping, and jumping from things. Infact I am amazed at how you treat mamma’s tummy as a trampoline?!

Beautiful: This splendor and beauty is beyond just exterior beauty, although you have always had the capacity to attract people of all genders and age on their ways just by looking at them with a smile that steals their hearts. You own a smile that is nothing short of astonishing--it is the same smile I knew and noticed when I first saw you look at me: natural, pure, candid, and full of that metaphorical beam which words fail to explain. When you smile your bursting OF glee and purest smile, it is almost like a glance of a little heaven for us – your mommy and daddy. We pray that the world is kind to you, and you forever have that gift to unwrap a glimpse of heaven to those who see that beaming smile. That smile has almost saved me from so many of my life’s setbacks – more than you’d ever know.

In your 2^nd year, you have learned to run around, to chatter, to have fun, to abide by, to oppose, to count up, to scribble, to skip, to dress up ( yes, you already have color preferences and you never step out o your room without a smile and neat clothes!) , to request, to be grateful, to smack, to say sorry, to forgive and forget, and to pray ( I love the way you bow your head in the little Pooja corner of our house , just after your bath – pretending to recite mantras fro your Elmo book!) .

Although, mamma never says it often and infact frequently cribs about how you are a handful for her and also how you drive her nuts all day long. But, what mamma feels for you is pure and deep within her heart – for you are a part of her heartbeat and she loves you more than she has ever loved anyone/anything in this world. You also know, that the number of times Mamma yells at you through the day can never surpass the number of kisses she gives you while you are asleep.

Every day you discover more, and every day I am so thankful for the incredible gift I have been bestowed with, to see that development, growth and your upward learning graph, albeit it flies by all too rapidly. Every day you explore and learn, and every day we learn from you. For we grow, when we raise you.

Thank you, dear son. Daddy’s ‘Kucchu’ (as he lovingly calls you) and Mamma’s rock star. You add the ‘extra’ to our ordinary lives. Thank you for being – you.

Wishing you a very Happy Birthday, Son.

Love, Always and Forever

Mommy and Daddy.

Small Joys

And then life is full of some small joys that never cease to make you smile.

• An unprompted hug from your child without asking for one.

• Getting an unexpected call from a friend when it’s not your birthday.

• Discovering a long lost thing unpredictably while cleaning your closet.

• Realizing that you are in someone’s thoughts and prayers always.

• Waking up early on a weekend and discovering you can go back to sleep

• Devouring hot pakoras, made by someone – especially for you on a rainy day.

• Gazing at the dazzling sun high above the clouds while seated in an airplane, when it’s grey and cloudy on the ground.

• Sand swarming from under your feet at the seaside.

• Gazing at the vermillion, golden tinges of sunset, while the sun fades away in the ocean.

• Your child’s hand clasping your finger tightly while he sleeps.

• Finding a fresh new green leaf in your plants.

• Leaning on a welcoming shoulder when watching a movie.

• The house smelling of food someone else cooked when you return home from work.

• When the radio plays your favorite song unexpectedly.

For happiness is never stopping to think if you are. Experienced any unanticipated small joy lately?

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Mom -to-Mom

I recall:

Looking forward to be home from school.

Placidness.

That feeling of comfort in your arms.

Sleeping with you and holding your tummy.

Trying your cosmetics.

Letting me know that you were proud of me.

Your warm hug around me when I sobbed.

You lending an ear.

You telling me that Maths is afterall easy to deal with and I could do it.

Magical hugs when I was ill.

The significance of homework.

You staying up all night when I had an exam

The significance of telling the truth.

Your belief in me.

Letting me snooze with my head in your lap during long bus journeys .

Oiling and plaiting my hair.

Your acceptance when you felt you were incorrect.

Letting me see when I was off beam.

Being truthful with me.

Making me believe I could be whatever I wished to be.

Sharing  your stories and listening to mine.

Loving me in a manner I never questioned.

Always telling me that you are proud of me and will always be.

Well, today let me tell you

Maa, I’m proud of you.

You did a great job.

From one mother to another,

Thank you.

I’m striving to be a good one…

because you were  one too.

****

Happy Mother’s Day.

PS- I intended posting this on Mother’s Day 13^th May 2012.However, I couldn’t. Nonetheless, what I feel for my mother, is heartfelt on each day. 

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First Words

I wondered it would be decades before we’d meet this “milestone.”

I wondered maybe it would be after you’d learned to poop all by yourself in the pot, or maybe when you could have chopped pears without making a mess, or by the time you could wash your chocolate smudged face on your own.

“Mo-mee!” you call out my name from the bathtub today, eager, I guess, at the meandering pace I walked to get ducky towel and there you were saying it again with a broad smile on your face .“Mo-mee!”

“Yes Baby,” I retorted in glee.

And as I patted you dry, there – it took time to sink what I’d heard – “Mom”?

I’m a Mommy.

Watching you grow up this past year has been a vague impression because it zoomed by so fast .You’ve grown up so much, so quickly! It’s been tough for me to sustain everything in the memory bank. One moment you were wobbly on your feet and the next you were running through the house like the naughtiest boy ever. It’s so tough to recall the days when you were still or in a stationary condition.

You went to your bed one night, hardly uttering any words and woke up the next morning with words blowing up from your mouth like you will never stop. “Atta”, “Chuchu”, “Kaakku”,”MeeMee” “Naani”,”Daadu”. You said it all – except for “Mom”. You eagerly want to know everything – what’s this called, how do we operate this and thereby how do we break this! You won’t know, how pompous, we - as parents, feel to see you repeat the words we tell you.

With these pristine words of yours has come a serious case of tot‘tude. Now you say “No, no” while doing something mommy daddy would not like you to do, teasing us in the effort. You say “Daa-ddy” pointing towards the man you enjoy being with – your father. And now, I know you’re just exploring your little world, seeking to find your own sense of balance over the petite things, so I cut you some slack sometimes.

You need abundant of hugs during the day. You are most happy playing on momma’s tummy or jumping on daddy’s shoulders. Many a time you also need some middle of the night hugs, especially when you are unwell like these days. It breaks my heart to see you in pain.

In the past one year you’ve made me a mother and even taught me how to be one. I’m gratified that you love me unconditionally and the way you love me more than I love myself. Even when I have had a chaotic, tiresome, awful, no-good, really bad day, you still come running to me saying “Maa-mee!” waiting for me to take you in my arms and snuggle you tightly.

I wondered in case I forgot to tell you that in the middle of the “don’ts” and “no’s” and “stop’s” in our hectic day with each other, I must say, “I love you” to the boy who makes my world more livable, and being so special as my first-born.

Ahaan, I love you. Much more than you can ever imagine. And I will forever love you. Regardless of anything. There is absolutely nothing you could do in this life that would make mommy not love you. Ever.

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I love being Married

If you wish to enjoy being Single, Get Married! No seriously. Read on.

I just recently read a hilarious post on Being Single by http://localparty.tumblr.com/post/16341669795 author of Local Tea Party – A truly hilarious fellow.

This further prompted me to write this blog post. So this is for all of you who might be looking, or still in the dating game, already hitched, or on the threshold of a relationship — my heart reaches out to you all.

No don’t get me wrong. That’s not coming from an arrogant-married woman who is trying to boast a flawless life of a happy life with a husband, a baby and a great friends and family to brag about. I am saying this because I have the one sole thing that you all don't possess so far — the liberty to be rude. To be so me. To utter what I feel and escape with it. For the reason that we have our whole lives to make up and neither of us is going anywhere.

Well, I have been pondering over it for a while and realized—this entire seeing each other/courtship/being in a relationship thing is surplus of politeness. It’s always about letting the other person have their own standpoint. Their choice of menu. Their choice of places to go for shopping. Their choice of who to make brunch plans with or which movie to see.

Pointless to say, you end up doing many such things which you actually don’t wish to do secretly, and do so just because there is all this stress of being nice, being the good fellow. About being responsive and sensitive to your partner’s feelings etc etc and all the mush. For the reason that after all, you are in it for the long tow (or at least, that's a better way to go about it)

It's always about, "Bay-bee, would you like to do the grocery store today?” And he is like, "Sure, when would you wish to go?"

Initially it’s always a bargain of choices. A few years ago, it use to be like, “Hon, can we switch on the room heater as its getting cold in here?” Pat came the reply “Yeah sure bay-bee, but let’s switch it off after a while as I might feel too hot?” Okay. Deal. Done

However, things transform after marriage for obvious reasons. Now there’s liberty. Liberty to say no. Liberty to prohibit. Liberty to veto. Liberty to communicate your opinion about their lifestyle, their friends, their way of interacting socially, their clothing styles, their idea of a good time, their food habits – everything!

Now it’s more like, “I’m baking here, I need to turn off the heater tonight!”

“But I am freezing?! And it’s raining cats and dogs outside. It’s so cold”

“Well why don’t you wear a sweater and sleep then!”

“Well why, don’t you get rid of some clothes in that case?”

Marriage is no stress test at all, its liberty. It’s how it was meant to be. Eat whatever you want, you are allowed to be angry sometimes ( many times), you can be nasty occasionally, say what you wish and never say what you don’t wish, and all will still be very well.

Now it's more like, "Bay-bee, I am going out with friends for a poker night"

"Kewl, take your own keys and don’t get back before 1 am atleast, so that I can enjoy my movie night here at home."

"Ummm okay"

Marriage therefore is liberating indeed. You don’t have to be pretentious. You don’t need to drag yourself to be good all day. You can be rude. You can be nasty. You can take for granted and you can be taken for granted. You are allowed to be messy and untidy and sometimes way too organized and prim and proper – yet you will be loved the same way. It's not about holding hands all the time you walk outside, but it's about about not forgetting to kiss goodnight before you go to bed. No matter what. It’s like a getting back to a place called Home – and it’s yours and will always be.

O by the way, a baby gives you supplementary room to be rude. Any abhorrent attribute inherited can be attributed to the spouse, and the good manners and brighter traits can be gloated over as stemming from your gene pool. So suitable, no?

I love being married. I finally got that one someone to blame all my life!

Anshul, this is for you – bay-bee.

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Auteur

PS - The image is contradictory here. But that's the fun part, you see.

Imperfect Love

I often wonder and realize that I am encircled by couples that are happily married, neck down deep in love. Syrupy sweet quotes are shared, inclusive with yearning glimpses and an affectionate brush of the other’s hand. They tender a non-thrashing pillar of support for each other’s endeavors. They share bizarre Facebook status updates about being “blessed” by the “greatest hubby/wifey in the world” etc. ( Oh Btw, I simply abhor that term ‘Hubby’- makes me feel repulsive)

Well, thankfully, my ‘husband’ and I are not that duo.

I have been married for 4 years and have known my husband as my childhood friend since longer than that I have known him since a long time now and now after heading rapidly towards old age, gray hairs, joint pains et al, I can pompously say that I do look forward to growing old with him now.

I’m going to be honest here. We are growing old. We argue. We criticize. We bicker. We just know which keys to twist and twist the hell out of them at times. We are basically an episode of Everybody Loves Raymond couple – Debra and Ray - devoid of the laughing track in the backdrop

It’s not alluring. It’s not ideal. It’s not perfect and infact it may not even be normal, but it’s - us. At times, I doubt, have I really settled in life? Am I just contented? Should I wish more?

And guess what - sometimes, I do seek more. Much more.

It’s human to pursue rosy dreams of perfect contentment. I would have loved moonlit walks on a beach, hand in hand, being pampered with roses everyday and told how beautiful I was and put on a podium each day. But that’s not my truth. One naughty 14 month old toddler son, several wakeful nights to tot up, piles of clothes to be folded, loads of toys to be kept back in the toybox several times a day, meals to be cooked, fed and cleaned thereafter, carpet to be cleaned, spill overs to be taken care of. Infact I also secretly wish that they come up with a vacuum cleaner I can ride on?! This is my reality.

Just when I feel I’ve reached the end of my patience and can’t bear it anymore, I’m hit with the luster of a brand new day, the smell of my morning tea, my son’s brightly lit smile first thing in the morning, or the way my husband plays soothing devotional songs first thing in the morning, the smell of incense stick - and I’m back in it again- rehabilitated- for the next few hours, at least.

Perfect contentment? Perhaps not.

He’s seen me at my ugliest best – He has seen my stretch marks shape and grow. I’ve witnessed his hairline slither and still seeing them turn gray. Our romantic getaways to a nearby coffee shop have been replaced by a smoothie and fries at Mc Donalds and regular grocery/diaper shoppings. I’ve mocked at his funny actions and candid pics (revealing them often on Facebook) and he’s laughed at me with my green monster looking facepack on and clicked my pics while I have been sleeping with my mouth wide open. It may not always be beautiful but we have a story, history, reminiscences, and an imperfect but wonderful life that we built- together.

He may not be my Prince Charming and I’m most likely not his Princess, but this man, he’s a wonderful husband and a great father. We both have abnormal sense of humor and love to laugh at our friends and everyone in general and also embarrass our son sometimes. On Fridays, devoid of friends and parties, we both relish enjoying a drink together alongwith some grilled sandwiches and a serial on the TV ( Yes, he loves watching them all) – We may not be perfect, but we remain convinced that we are perfect for each other and most of the times, that’s good enough.

Here is what my acumen says.

Life doesn’t always churn out the way you expect it to be. And that’s not essentially a bad thing at all.

Anshul, I may not be perfect and you may not be perfect - and that's perfectly fine. I love our imperfections as much as I love you.

Happy 4th Marriage Anniversary.

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Watching You Sleep

Frequently I sit next to you and watch you sleep,
constantly seeking to comprehend the
Feelings that you keep.

Do you ever marvel why the skies are blue?
Or do you wonder what it implies
When I tell you that, "I love you?"

What all must you be dreaming about right now
With your eyes shut tight?
And if you get scared,
Will my hug make it alright?

Do you fathom the
Love – for you- that I feel?
And will you always know that
What I feel for you is so real?

That’s what I wonder when I
Gaze at you - while you’re fast asleep,
Constantly seeking to comprehend
The feelings that you keep.

PS – Just a random scribble while I gaze and admire my little son sleep peacefully next to me.

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Music of Autumn

Flaming leaves, illuminating the air,

gesticulating wildly in the chilly breeze.

the heart filled with melody ,strumming the music notes of nature,

the mind swaying in scarlet silk, adorning crowns of silver-crystals

the body dances, to the tempos of the autumn raagam

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A Letter to My Son

My dear Ahaan,

Happy First Birthday my son.

“Time flies “– The phrase stands so true with kids. Even though today you are one year old yet, holding you in my arms is still one of my most loved things to do in my whole day. I am in complete awe that it’s been one year! I still remember you in that petite – so charming and kissable, huggable baby right from the beginning. You came into this world with a need to observe and to do – an inquisitive and social temperament, at heart. You have used up the first year of your life discovering and unearthing your world in new and astounding ways.

I memorize that afternoon a year ago very intensely, when you came knocking (in my tummy) desperate to come out complete 7 days earlier. I presume you were prepared to tread into this world and get going, as you do so impressively since that day.

The type of love you stimulated in me left me astonished. It’s not over or better than other loves in my life - only diverse for its special. Diverse from the way I love your dad, diverse from the way I love my mother, sister and rest of my family - and diverse from the way I love my life. It has augmented my life.

And with that love originates a complete array of other sentiments. I have undergone feelings of vulnerability when I use to see you cry in the early weeks and I could do nothing to sooth your pain, feelings of desolation when you use to howl unremittingly in the early months. A feeling of disappointment when you were in throbbing pain from what we now know was colic. Feelings of anxiety about all the new facets of life that being a new parent brings along. They too have enhanced and enriched my life.

You have motivated me by just being you. The unyielding endeavors you devote to exploring the world and enhancing your skills in all its miniature deviations have flabbergasted me more than just once. It makes me wonder why and when we lose the aspiration, zeal and oomph to be so dynamic in developing ourselves.

You have also stimulated another echelon of being me. You made me contemplate about life in a diverse outlook. You made me reflect about life ahead of my own and its consequences, this still has me bewildered in many magnificent ways.

Your arrival in this world and in our lives has also intensified and strengthened my love for your father. I can see his love for you and his constant dedication and efforts to be the best dad he can ever be. It enriches me with warmth and affection to see you both together – conversing (your man talks) playing together and sharing love and fun.

On your big day – your first year of life and its wonderful experiences - I want you to know that I’ll always be here for you on your trail through this thing called - life. You can depend on me for being there when you require my love, affection and support in all its understated or obvious manifestations. A hand to support you when you try your first steps, a hand to grab you in case you begin to fall, trying another brave attempt at something you don’t master (yet).

My days now are fulfilled with your contagious laughter and your cooing “just for mamma” hugs – nothing in my life is more enriching and incredible to me than for you to crawl over, quietly tilt in to bump heads and hug me, your early morning smile, the way your eyes look for me when I am not around, the way you shy away your eyes when I scold you, the way you gently rest your head on my tummy at night – this and for many more lovely things you do for me each day - I love you every second of every day.

You have brought your father and me together in ways you’ll never fully comprehend (as of now). You are loved immeasurably.

I have countless aspirations, wishes, hopes and dreams for you, but in particularly I wish you love, health and contentment. I wish and hope that you will always want to come to me for a “just from mommy” hug. That you’ll always wish to show me the world (even when I grow old) as you do now with your fervent excitement. This world is yours - my boy- for the taking.

Continue filling the pages of your book in your special way, while I’ll be reading all along and being there for you along the way.

Thank you for being - just you. I love you.

Happy Birthday Son!

Maa

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