Move on

Its that one rule life tries to tell us during trying times. Move on. Its easier said than done though. I have lost quite a number of people to both fate and death in the years that I’ve walked on earth. I have tried to make up for the loss of these people in my life as well as in the lives of others whose world’s they occupied. In most occasions I have failed miserably. Nobody can take the place of someone else. Nobody. Period.
That said, something has been in my mind for a few days now. It could be because of the nostalgia that came after reading  a post on my brother’s blog. My father raised me alone. It was him all the way. I say all the way because although there were family and friends to help out at one point or the other, for most parts(read:95%) of my formative years , it was him. For a man to bring up a girl , i am sure would’ve been a herculean task. I know for sure because I have seen the stress and  effort Ro takes when he has to manage ami for a few hours!  So imagine about 24 years!  Things were different and difficult for the three of us; my dad, brother and me. Boys are more closer to the mother abd girls to their dads. I could tell my dad everything but he and my brother always had that line between them. Always.
A neighbor passed away recently due to an illness. A nasty illness that too. She left behind 2 boys aged 8 and 3 maybe. I wasn’t too close to her nor the family. However when i heard of it, I cried my heart out. Partly for nostalgia and partly for the boys. Their family is huge. Grandparents and uncles and aunties and cousins and friends and so many others. Would that be enough for the boys? Will they be able to bond with their father and tell him every small detail of their lives? Would he care to listen? The truth is that we’ll all grieve. For a long long time. We’ll never be tbe same again. We’ll heal in bits and pieces and we’ll slowly learn to live with the loss..the void..the space in our hearts. Forever.
I have thought about speaking to the family time and again and convincing them to let that man marry again, but I have been overpowered by the typical mind-your-own-business mentality. Will he get him self another wife? Will they ever be happy again? I pray they do. Those boys and that man deserves happiness in their life.
I asked myself this question: if I were to die unexpectedly.. would I want to see Ro and ami happy? Would i want to see Ro married again? Ami calling someone else AmmA? Yes. I’d want to. I would love to make sure that they are taken care of well in my absence. I am pretty sure every person up there wants their loved one to remain happy. Happy doesn’t  mean forgetting.  Does it?

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Note in the mood-28

When we were children, we wanted to just grow up and be adults. Like really quick. Being adults enticed us a lot and maybe thats why we loved playing house house. Maybe we thought that life was a lot cooler as adults. Remember when you were a kid and your biggest worry was like whether you’d get a cake for your birthday or would you get to eat chocolates the next day. I remember my relatives and elder cousins telling me to enjoy my schooldays while it lasted coz it was the time we would be free of any responsibility. Today when I see children playing house house ans daddy mummy, I tell them to go out and play something else while they can. I tell them that they have a lifetime to play house house and live the adult life. The poor children think the adult life is happier and a lot easier and a life free of exams and tests and homework. They think its all about cooking, partying, love and office! If only they knew.
Adulthood is responsibility. Adults have to be places, do things, earn a living, and pay the rent.  Everyday is an exam, a test that you must most certainly ace. Its not just you, you are responsible for all those that surround you,  all those whose lives are a part of yours. The scariest part about responsibility is when you screw up and let it slip right through your fingers. There are no weekdays,no weekends. Its just one loooioooooooonnnggggggg neverending day. Unfortunately once you get past the age of braces and training bras, responsibility doesn’t go away. It can’t be avoided. Either someone makes us face it or we suffer the consequences. And still adulthood has it’s purpose. I mean the guiltfree shopping, the love, the no parents telling you what to do, the life after the responsiblities… if ever…that’s pretty damn good.

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55

He was born in a land far away. They worked there.  They decided to celebrate his first birthday  in their home country. His relatives said the boy looks like him.  Her relatives said the boy looks just like her. The couple smiled, looking at each other. Little did the relatives know, the boy was adopted.

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Women of strength

For those of you who aren’t from where I belong, my country n in recent times, my state has been in the news for attack on women. Sexual attacks on women. Rape. I am a mother of a girl child and things like this shake me up very very badly. When things like this happen in places you are familiar with, you just look up and thank god that its not happened to people you know or love. Thats our problem too. We dont act up until it happens to one of us and from where I come from, even if things do happen to one of us, the ones close to us will just blame it on fate!  Fate, my !@@$. So what do we do?
I dont want to start a post on going into the mind of a rapist. I am just going to say they dont have a mind even, forget heart. How can I make sure my girl grows up to be a strong, independent woman, capable of defending n protecting herself if n when the need arises. Asking her to cover herself fully isnt going to do the trick-WHAT IF HE IS LISTING LOOKING AT HER EYES?  Asking her not to be smart and bold may not work either – WHAT IF HE IS LOOKING FOR A SOFTSPOKEN, GENTLE WOMAN AS HIS NEXT VICTIM?  Asking her not to reveal her religious identity even may not come handy – WHAT IF HE IS AN AETHIST?  I even thought of home schooling my daughter and never letting her out of my sight-but again, what if he is just around the corner, waiting to come into my house to hurt my child or the people I care about or myself!
A regional movie I happen to see recently had one dialogue in particular that made me think. It goes somethin on the lines of if you are a small girl and someone tells you that you are a nice, obedient, softspoken girl, dont pay heed to it. Do not grow up thinking that you are the above mentioned. Its a trap. It is told to you so that you convince yourself and grow up to actually be a poor, softspoken, naive girl who will never have the guts to stand up to an eve teaser, a letcher or an abuser. You will be that person who silently suffers all the abuse and torture met out to you and cry when nobody is watching. You will always be abused by one or the other and you will silently bear the brunt of it all. Thats the problem, isn’t it? Most of us keep quiet if a man intentionally touches us inside when we use public transport, if a man letches looking at us, we bear the abuse in a marriage all the while thinking that we are to blame. Why should we keep mum n suffer the pain n trauma.
Everytime you keep quiet, you are encouraging the abuser in him.  He thinks that girls will silently take it all in, no matter how much damage he does n so he commits rape too. He starts with the ‘bad touch’ and slowly n stealthily moves to being a serial abuser n finally to rape. He kills the girls who fight back because he is only used to the girls silently taking the torture. So am going to bring up my girl by asking her to speak out. To speak out no matter who is listening and without thinkin what people will say. She will speak her mind and be gutsy. She will hit the man on his face if he misbehaves.She will stand up n shout if she needs to be heard but she will not surrender n sit silently. The next time someone says how naive and innocent she is, I’ll make sure they take back what they said.
Let us, mothers, help make a world safe for our girls. Lets make our daughters empower themselves. Lets make sure they trust us enough to speak to us about anything small or big n let’s ensure that they trust the power they hold.
Women of strength,
Lets know them
Lets raise them
Lets be them.

For you, my ami.

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I am woman

Every year, people all around the world celebrate March 8th as women’s day. Every year I wonder whats the point? I mean,  a day for women? Do we really need one day? And what really happens to us women on that day? Do we have to work less or not work at all? Do we not take up the responsibilities we do everyday? Do we just put our legs up and let the other species do all the things we do or dont do? Does the men..every man give us a leg massage and cook abd do the dishess abd take care of the baby(s) abd head to work and treat us special? Is that what the day is meant to be for? Such a lot of hype. I think if one really wants to have a day for women, then on that day, women everywhere should be able to walk on the road without any eyes oggling at her, she should havw tbe right to decide whether she should or shouuldnt wear lingerie, she should be able to hold a drink in her hand without being stared at n the likes. Above all.. here’s a note to the men.

Every woman has a past. Some were physically abused. Some had violent parents. Some had pubertal issues. Some had sexual abuse as a child from their own family members. Some had messed up love stories. Some had been forced into sex in the name of love. Some had been drugged. Some were date raped. Some had been viciously photographed on bed. Some had been blackmailed by their ex-boyfriend. Some were in an abusive relationship. Some had menstrual problems. Some had a broken family. Some had a divorce. Some had an obesity issue. Some had financial droughts. Some had drug or alcohol addiction. Some had a few unsuccessful suicide attempts.

If you see a woman, who went through any of these but had already wiped her tears, tied her hair up, masked her sorrows with a divine smile, stood tall and strong, started walking towards her future because she still has some hope left inside her and has not given up on the concept of love that still exists in this world, do not stab her with her past. Do not confront her. Do not slap her with more abuse. Give way for her and walk beside her. Make her believe in the goodness this life has. Teach her to trust. May be hold her hands and walk for a while. You’ll know how sweet that soul is and how strong her hopes are! You’ll be amazed at how she carries herself after all her energy has been sucked out.

She need not always be only the woman next door or from a different home. She could be your own friend, your own sister, your own girlfriend, your own wife, even may be your own mother. Do not judge her by her past. Gift her the peaceful future that she deserves. Hold her hands against the world, which knows only to judge. Give her the love that she always yearned for. Most important convince her thay what lies ahead of her is much better than what she left behind.

Men, most of us dont want to be superior than you and it really isnt what we are after. Give us the space to chase our dreams like you do. Taking care of the family, helping you realise your dreams and making you go after them will all be taken care of even if we do have a job! Give us the respect we deserve and stop treating us like your own-unpaid-butler/maid. Give us the love. Hold our hands. Hug us. Stop thinking about what the world will say or think. Let us, women too, live.

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You are One!

The year 2014 was when we celebrated our 1st Anniversary and it was a real roller-coaster year. In the midst of all that chaos, we had you. You were our sunshine. The reason we held on to our sanity and the reason we had a smile. You see, your father and I celebrated you. Over and over again, we celebrated your arrival. We spent months planning, talking about the type of parents we wanted to be, the things we would do with you as you grew up, the things we wanted to teach you.
Becoming a mother has been life changing for me. The minute they pulled you out of me, a part of me started living outside of my body. You came into this world and you made me want to be better. So much of my attitude and quite a lot of my character has changed and I can’t think of anyone else in this entire world that has that sort of power over me. I have made mistakes and I know I am not the perfect mother. But you my dear has been the perfect little daughter. I have gathered my strength from you and you have given me the courage whenever I have felt that I am not doing a good job.
My dear Ami, I look at you sometimes and see how innocent you are. In such a short span you have managed to teach me some of life’s biggest lessons. You fall and get up a zillion times but manage to keep trying until you are up on your own. You smile at everyone and everything and force me to believe that there is goodness in the world after all. This world isn’t always a pretty place and I look at how you’re untouched by the negativity in the world and I wonder how or if this world will change you. I pray it doesn’t.  I pray you always know how beautiful you are inside and out, and how amazing you are. I pray that God keeps you safe always. There will be people that don’t believe in you, but I believe in you.  There will be people that say things about you that you may not like, things that hurt your feelings or make you feel a certain way, but I believe you’re strong enough to ignore them and continue down the path that is destined for you.  You’re destined for amazing things and I truly believe that whatever you set your heart and your mind to, you will succeed.  You are our daughter and we will make sure you are equipped with the things you need in this life to be a good person with a huge heart. I want you to be good to others. I hope you always lend a helping hand to someone in need. I hope someone will lend a helping hand to you when you’re in need.  I pray that no matter where this life takes you, you always know your mom and dad are here for you, and that you always have a place to call home. No matter what happens, we will stand by you. I want you to count your blessings everyday and say thank you for all that life has given you.
Its been a tough year Ami. The only nice thing that has happened, is you. However, I am grateful that your dad and I were around to see your first smile, to see your first set of tooth, hear you say “acha”, watch you roll over and stand up.
Oh Ami, I pray so hard for you to one day find someone to love you the way your dad and I love each other. I want you to know that unconditional love does exist. I want you to see that inspite of all the hardships, turmoils, fights and arguments that your father and I have, we love each other and stand by each other at all times.
I’m still so very uncertain of whatever I have done to deserve such a beautiful and amazing baby girl. You are the center of our universe and that will never change.We love you more than anything in the whole world.
Happy first birthday my dearest. We love you forever and a day. May you always smile and may you always be blessed.
Love always,
Acha and Amma
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Onam- A then and now perspective

I think every region has that festival which overlooks religion, caste and creed. In the land where I come from, its Onam. Onam is that time of the year when the whole state celebrates the festival irrespective of which religion one belongs to. In just a sentence, Onam is celebrated as the homecoming of the mythical king Mahabali who Malayalees consider as their king.

On any other year, today would be filled with the excitement of the festival, the homecoming of the family, the flower patterns and of course the onakodee- the new dresses or sarees gifted. But this Onam, I am swept away in a totally different direction. For most years, I have been in Kerala during this time of the year. The memories I have of Onam in my formative years and the recent ones are very different. I was looking through some old photographs and realised that about 20 years ago there were no photos taken during onam, but the image in my mind is very fresh. Today there would be atleast thousands of selfies of “mundu and set saree” cladded ladies n gentlemen n another hundreds of albums dedicated to the festival and its festivities. However, I still recall the Onam that was, all those years ago even without an album or photo. By “all those years ago”,I only mean about 2 decades ago. I am not as old as you think I am.

The earliest memory I have of Onam is at my house. At about 8 years of age, I remember making a small floral arrangement called “pookalam” and then helping(read:watching)my grandmother make the quintessential “sadhya” , which is a feast with 11 plus varities of curries,sweet dishes, pickles and more. Another memory from years later is that of waiting in turn at my paternal house for a sadhya, wearing the “onakodi”. Us children would then finish the meal and go about playing every game possible within the limited tine5we had together. In school the memories are that of the onam competitions held every year between the houses. Dance, music and the likes. I can still hum a few onam songs and a song or two from the music store nearby sparks memories. The onam festivities in college werr mostly to do with making sure you were dresses well so that the boys would take a second look at you. It was probably the first time girls wore the traditional attire.
For the past few years now, a lot has changed. Am not sure if the changes were a turn around one year or a result of a gradually evolving society.The traditional way of celebrating the festival have been replaced with modern ways dominated by new rituals.  The high priests of the new rituals are traders of different shades, ranging from the unavoidable supermarket to the redundant jeweller, from the film industry to the television channels. Onam is no more about equality and fraternity, goodness and generosity.  It is about shopping and entertainment.

The original rituals of Onam reinforced relationships among people as well as nature.  Children were sent around to gather flowers from wherever it could be plucked.  In the process they merged into the nature.  They also met and spoke to the owners of the lands from where they collected the flowers. These days the flowers come in a packet that is priced high and the pookalams are mostly visible in the rural areas and outskirts. Flowers bought from the market arent used for making the traditional floral carpet for Maveli but for participating in competitions. Entertainments are brought home by the TV channels; or at best the family makes it to the nearest mall where people ineluctably remain strangers.
The sadhyas have now become takeaways and buffets. The picture of our mothers and grandmothers running around the kitchen to make sure the sadhya is prepared to a t remains a fast fading memory. It is being replaced by plastic containers with sambhar and olan n payasam. Till last year,every shop irrespective of wjat religion the owner belonged to would out up cutouts of maveli on their doors and walls. These days I havent seen tooo many mavelis beinf put up. In earlier times, one would wait eagerly for the onakodi because that was one of the few dresses we would get all througj the year. These days its more of an obligation to buy relatives a new dress for Onam because everyone seems to buy dresses all through the year. What remains is the nostalgia conjured up by the traditional songs and dances telecast on the channels.  The nostalgia gives us a longing for the good old days.  But we know they won’t return.  We don’t want them to return, really.  It is impossible to give up our gadgets and luxury.  It is impossible to be generous to the needy neighbour.  It is impossible to be good.
And me? I envy those who are fortunate to still celebrate the festival with near and dear ones, making the pookkalam, feasting on the homemade sadhya and watching yet another onam pass by. I wonder if my child will ever experience onam in its real sense. Will she, one day be able to look back at the time she spent with her extended family, looking at the onakodi and savoring the sadhya. Will she ever know the happiness that comes from feeding a hungry stomach on onam and making sure atleast one poor man on the street wears a brand new outfit that day. Will she celebrate onam at all?
Happy onam! Enjoy it while it lasts.

A Mother Speaks- Chapter 3

Soooo I am going on a much awaited, much deserved vacation. I am going home! Again, I’ll be off for awhile! Last evening, in the midst of a conversation between moms and moms to be, I realised how much life has changed for me, how much I have changed!The transition from being a carefree lazy woman to a new mom is a huge shock on so many levels. I had to warn the moms to be😉. I didnt mean to scare the girls but I had t warn them because I thought they were waay too young!As a new mom, I have found myself doing countless things I never would have expected to do — some that are laugh-worthy and others that will make you cringe.

I have never been around any kid while they grew up. The babbling and the crawling are all new to me. I mostly gather all my info from reading up. I swear by Dr Sears Baby Book. Its like my bible. I am not suggesting thats the way to raise a kid, but I really dont have a choice… So how did my life change…

I was never too fond of bathing. Yeah yeah judge me! Go ahead. I used to look at it as a chore. Something just to keep ourselves clean. Now, its on my to do list everyday! I look forward to the time I take a bath. I love bathing. Its the 15 minutes I get to myself. Nobody else can take that away from me. After a long day, some warm water n me. Bliss! There are days when I have even slept off there.Instead of European Tour, I daydream of long showers and baths. Hmmm. I am just gewtting started.

I am a singer. Not a self proclaimed one. Acquaintances,colleagues, friends and family know that I sing. I used to hum all the time. I still do. Its just that now I sing more of baby songs and lullabies. I try to sing songs but go back to baby tuning! I dont even know whats the latest AR Rahman tune is like! To think there was a time when friends used to come to me for the latest tracks😦 I sing the same songs on repeat so much that my own voice is starting to drive me crazy, but it’s worth it, because that smile is everything to me! I am also known to talk a lot. I was the talkative child all the way through school n college. I would even talk to a log! Well, I still do. These days its more third person talk. I have somehow transported into a different dimension where I talk in the third person, as in, “Amma needs to sit down n take a break….for real”. Also, I find myself giving the play-by-play of every little action I am doing, even when no one else is in the room. Appaarently you have to keep speaking to babies so that they develop theor communication skills! Looks like I’ll need to attend spoken english classes before I can start speaking socially again.

No i wasnt exactly the stylish diva ever. I’d be seen mostly in tshirt n jeans. These days I cant even remember when was the last time I wore a clean pair of clothes!My clothes are mostly used as scotch brite wipes, wet tissues or jut\st tissues! In the beginning I used to change outfits more times in a day (due to various baby bodily fluids) than a teenager on the first day of school. Eventually I gave up changing clothes and accepted that I’ll be covered in something at all times during the day.The ponytail and nude face look has become my signature look, and by signature look, I mean my only look. I guess I should just go bald or sport the bob cut look!

Eating was a favourite! I was a foodie! I used to try every newly opened reataurant in town! Take time to enjoy a meal, savouring every bite. haaaaa what a life that was! Eating has now become a competition around finishing my plate in the shortest time possible, and I HAVE forgtten about savoring a bite. That hot cup of tea I made this morning to enjoy while getting ready for the day…..It’s 2 p.m. and I still haven’t gotten halfway through it and have reheated it four times. I enjoyed cooking. Ilove experimenting and spending time in the kitchen. Now I use my kitchen timer not to cook something delicious, but as a countdown to when Ro comes home and when I can hand over!!!

Sleep! Oh what a luxury it was, if only I had respected it and savoured it wjen I had the time, instead of wasting countless hours on the net!  10:00 p.m. has become my new bedtime, and even that seems late most nights. Moving even an inch while she is napping after nursing is a terrifying experience for fear of waking her. Sneezing while the baby naps is absolutely off the table, just hold it in and take it like an adult. Hold it, I say! I celebrate the fact that my baby is finally sleepng longer by spending my newly found free time obsessively checking on her.

Getting out was so easy! Pick  up bag n leave. Now, there’s a checklist on the door that has to be checked even if I am going down to the grocery shop. Diapers are a must. Maybe one in your pocket is also a good idea.  I have forgotten where I kept my handbag. Her bag is mine now. Or rather, I kind of ask for some space in her bag to just put my purse.

Hmmm as you can see, life does change!  A lot. I am just not the person I used to be. I have changed from being a carefree, lazy, laid back, selfish prick to being an over cautious, on the move, selfless mother. I no longer care of whther my hair is tied up or whether I have had food on time or that I havent got sleep for days together. What matters is that my princess is happy and comfortable. I see her smile and I know am doing it right.  Oh well, I know there will come a day when my girl will demand that I sport a ponytail and look chic. She will demand that I eat on time and get some rest and go back to the lady I used to be. Till then, I am at  her disposal.  Till then my time table is the one she sets n resets every single day…. Till the day she becomes the lady I dream she will be… till then……

  1. Like how parenthood totally doesn't change you at all.

I am not an NRI!

I am an Indian. By birth and spirit. For 26 years I’ve been  in India. So when I moved to Dubai, I hated it. I still do. But this post isnt about my tryst with DXB.  Being an NRI for a considerable amount of time, I have been paying attention to the kind of lifestyle’s that most of them lead. I have even been having forced conversations with a few of them just to gather some facts before I roll the dice on this one. So this is not to offend any NRI but I just had to pen this down. ALso, my readers shouldnt think that all my posts from now on would be about m0mmyhood n diaper changing.

To start with, the NRI’s are just a bunch of normal people who live abroad . If you ask me, they can be split broadly into two distinct categories: The No Return to India and The Now Return to India.

The No Return is a unique breed of people. A species! Their uniqueness lies in the fact that they think they are the most fortunate people in this world. For them India is a third world country which is confined to those once-in-a-few-years visits for the sake of completing the formality of seeing their loved ones. Actually they’d rather bring their loved ones over to where they live. For them India is  and will always be a chaotic, unhygienic and polluted place where they can’t live for a second without “Bisleri” and hand sanitizers. These are the same people who help to spread the word that India is still the land of urchins and snake charmers n an unhygenic place to survive. Having said this, they will never take the Indianness out of them because it will make them look out of sync with their identity.Anything to do with Indian “culture” needs to be imbibed. These people will encourage themselves and their offsprings to be more in sync with the country in which they RESIDE. More local friends than Indian friends, speak the local language with the “accent” etc.

The Now Return category constitutes a considerable proportion of people. They are actually in love with their homeland so much that they want to come back as soon as possible (or so they say!!) They enrol their kids in Indian international schools so that they are in line with the Indian schooling system. They make sure that the kids learn Carnatic music, dance, cricket, etc. For this bunch of guys, the Indianness factor imbibed within their families is not a formality but something that they yearn for immensely. They make sure that the children speak more in the native language and have more Indian friends. Stuck in the vicious cycle of money and social pressures, they are not able to break away from the social barriers to return back home. They go home at every bout of nostalgia and make sure to attend all social functions if possible!

So what is the big deal? The big deal is that despite their vast difference in approach to living.

The default thinking in most of the parents’ mindset is that since they have invested immensely in inculcating the “Indianness” in them, the children would in turn be the “goody goody” souls in the decisions they make in their adult life. While it is fair enough to argue that the Indianness inculcated would make the children more in sync with the Indian lifestyle, the fact of the matter is they are growing up in a completely different country. In today’s world, the social thinking of the younger generation is made up by the attitudes of their friends around them and not by the “default” tutorial classes of Indian culture. There is no point in the NRI parent living in a country for 20 years and then expecting the children to grow up the way “they want” and marry the person whom they think is good enough. Expectations such as marital affairs are a crucial part of the illusion that is confronting the NRIs. It is very crucial that they come to terms with the reality and set their priorities straight in life. If they feel their culture and their way of thinking needs to be followed, then they should pack off and head back home. In an era of blossoming growth back home in India, heading back home is an economically practical solution and if one throws away the obsession with the foreign social “status”, I do not see any hindrance in coming back. You cannot expect to have the cake and the cherry, can you? If one is interested in staying abroad, then one should be prepared and be ready for the consequences (irrespective of its merit) with regards to the choice made by their children. While it is a duty for the children to keep the family in confidence on such issues, the reality of life is that a majority of the younger generation rarely looks beyond the self while taking such decisions.

Essentially, the crux of the issue confronting all NRIs is the weight of expectation one thrusts on the younger generation and the illusion with which they subject themselves oblivious of the practical consequences of the choices that they have made in their lives.

Whether one is in the No Return or Now Return category, the NRIs need to confront issues head on rather than live in a illusion of their own!

Like I mentioned at the start, this is merely my view. I dont intend to hurt anybody nor their indianess. This post is an afterward of a conversation I struck with a family member here. So no hard feelings. And no matter how many eons I live abroad, my heart will always be Indian! They day I find out that the nation I live in is sucking out the  INDianness in my child, I will go back to where I belong. My home, My India.

A mother speaks- Chapter 2

At some point of time we’ve all of had friends/relatives who’ve just delivered a baby. The one we cant just not wait to see! And how many times have we actually given unsolicited advice, even when we dont know a darn thing about it! So this post is on those little things. Trust me, this is from experience!Image result for new mom stress

  • Learn to say NO. Its your baby. And your husband’s of course. Nobody else can tell you what to do with the baby other than your own instinct. If you dont want others to carry your baby around, say no. If you want to co sleep with your baby, do so. If your “wellwishers” ( I’ll use this word to avoid any conflicts later) interfere in your time with your baby, say no! If you want to be left alone with your minion while your nurse, say so! Voice out.
  • First few days.The first few days after your delivery is really weird. I know moms would say things like, I fell in love with the baby at first sight and I wanted to show the whole world my baby etc. There may be pepople like that. However, its mostly the other kind. The first days are mostly in the hospital. Its really bad. Firstly the mom s really tired. Natural labour isnt the only thing thats painful. Au contraire, c-sec can be really tiring and painful. Dont go visiting new moms in hospital unless you are the grandparents, immediate uncles/aunts of the newborn. Dont. Give the mother and child time to get used to the new world. Its really depressing for the new mom to be seen in their worst form.
  • Breatfeeding. Its a really personal thing. A lot needs to be said about this. When a mother delivers, it is said that breast feeding should just come to her and the child, naturally. Thats bullshit. Some mothers are lucky if their kid drinks their milk  and some children are lucky to nurse naturally. For a good number of mothers though, it isnt a natural process. It takes time. The baby and the mother needs to be comfortable and it really isnt just your own body. A lot of factors make this process of milk production n consumption succesfull. So relax. It will come and even if it doesnt, dont feel guilty. It really isnt your fault and the “bond” between you and the child will not be reduced just bcoz the baby doesnt take milk from you! The baby only thinks of you as its “beck n call” person for a good few months. Dont listen to people and their tips on feeding! Each mother, each baby, each body is different. Feel free to tell them to shut up. I did. It wont hurt their feelings as theyll say you are in stress due to all the labour🙂.
  • Take time. You may not feel an attachment to the baby as soon as you see it. It may take awhile. It s completely normal. Rest is really all you need. Once you feel alright, take time to look at your baby and admire your creation. You will feel the love once you are ready for it.
  • Guiltfree.You need rest and lots of  it. Ask for help with the baby and sleep. Your body is your own, always remember that. You are bound tp feel like a cow initially. Everyone from the doctor to the maid will see your breasts. Well, the maid and the others neednt exactly. So ask to be alone when you are nursing. You may feel like crying because you are overwhelmed. Do it. Its really ok to cry. Listen to yourself. Feeling angry and depressed is not a crime.I struggle with finding my worth not in my family, but in my work and my hobbies (which I can no longer do). I struggle with being resentful towards my husband’s ability to come and go as he pleases. I struggle with finding my identity in how I look or what I accomplish. I struggle  with the ‘all-encompassing’ new role of being a mother. I struggle with not having any time for myself. Accept it. Its the only way you can move on.
  • Have food. Proper healthy food. You can diet later. Demand for food, if you dont get it on time. Scream for it. It is required. For milk, for energy and for just the sheer enjoyment of eating what you want.

Remember we all have good days and bad. Everything is a phase, a this too shall pass one. Enjoy it while it lasts. Just make sure that your priorities are set right. It is your baby and you first.