MellowDrama

Raising a child might be easy for people who have either seen something similar like people with older siblings raise their offspring(s) or people who haven't sleepwalked through their lives. For me having a child for which I was responsible thoroughly has been like roller coaster ride in an adventure park. So far. (But now, with some added experience, I can vouch that nothing is going to change.)  I just got up and took a seat on the conveyor belt without knowing anything about its twists or turns; loops or or having a clue about the time frame of zero-G suspension. As much harassing as it has been for both of us- the baby and  me- I have gathered a lesson or two at every bend. I have realised that as is with the roller coaster ride so it is with the child raising phenomenon. You can't do much more once the light turns green. Yes, you can fling your arms and scream your heart out, but you can not get out of the situation, unless you count abandoning your kid. (If that be...

A lesson that has kept rearing its head time and again in my journey of motherhood, of which I am going to complete 10 years in a couple of months, is something that I refused to learn till the very recent times. It is a lesson that my mother wanted me to adopt as soon as my daughter started to talk, walk, and defy. In short, being an independent child.  Today, it is this lesson that I wish I had the sense to adopt the first time my mother said it out loud to me. But then who would I be if not a common-sense-defying rebel! Or on the other hand maybe this is what makes motherhood such an adventure ride- the ability to gain sense and discover things which only experience can shower upon you.  The lesson that I am talking about has been worded by so many smart and intelligent people over the ages, that I can fill up pages with their quotes, but I am going to give you two of my favourites that spell it out the best for me. "Don't worry that the children never listen ...

Imagine this scenario.  You are working on your laptop or in your kitchen on perfecting a recipe. You are a picture of concentration and focus. There is Zen like atmosphere around you. You are calmly forging ahead on your path. But then the very silence that was helping you work dedicatedly gives you shivers. You remember that for the last five minutes maybe seven, you haven’t heard your baby. Yes, you have also come out from Zen-o-sphere and remembered that you are a parent. If you actually have baby/ babies you will  know where I am getting, but for the uninitiated, let me tell you that no sound from an active, awake baby for more than a couple of minutes is a sure sign of trouble. In times like this, I think, mothers from all over the world are grateful to the fellow who invented the squeaky shoes. The ones that go chooon choooon and chooooon. These are the shoes that look so pretty and are lightweight but have real ammo- the sound, the alarm bell. Those shoes, my f...

Exasperated mothers Trying mothers Mothers who have too much on their mind. Mothers who think cake counts as a meal. Mothers who worry too much. Mothers who fly away so that their kids might follow. Mothers who stay put so that that their kids might get a solid platform. Mothers who love without being ever seen or heard. Mothers who let their children know they are there and theirs. Mothers who feed. Mothers who eat. Mothers who bleed. Mothers who get readily cut up. Mothers who become fathers, storytellers, advisors and sounding boards. Mothers who never get asked for their preferences or opinions. Mothers who are teachers. Mothers who are learners. Mothers who mother and mothers who smother. Tired mothers. Fresh as  a daisy mothers Yummy mummies, sporty mummies Mummies with tummies Tummy filling mummies every girl who becomes a mother lives life on the edge of a sword always on the verge of forgetting who she is and yet not having that luxury of forge...

We were at a friend's house when a tiff broke between the two siblings. I offered the younger one, my daughter's friend, to hop in the car with us for a sleepover. She did that delighted to get away from the bigger sister. My friend gulped hard. She asked her over and over again if she was sure she wanted to go away for the night. She cajoled her then threatened her then tried bit bribing and lastly entreated her to change her mind. But she wouldn't be cajoled, threatened, bribed or entreated. Her mind was made up and she came with us. I don't think my friend slept a wink that night. Whereas the child played to her heart's content and fell soundly asleep having tired all her faculties nicely. And this is what brought home a fact that life looks ahead. It knows only to move in forward gear. The woman might have worried about x number if things concerning her daughter but the child wasn't about one.

Dear Dear Netra, I am writing this to you in the hope that it will bear witness to the immense love I feel for you but am not probably good at expressing. I don't love you like Papa does. For me you are not the perfect child as you are for him. I don't kiss you and smell you and hug you when you sleep like he does. I don't buy you everything that you put your finger on and I don't cry when you bruise your knees, arms, nose or cheeks. So what is my love all about? For beginners let me tell you that you hold the key to my soul. You are my very 'jaan', just like the 'jaan' that the magician had put in the parrot. You are my that parrot. I like any mother want you to turn out perfect. This roots from the fact that I can't and won't be able to bear anyone point a finger at you or raise their voice ever at you. This privilege lies with me exclusively. Your father also doesn't share it. This is not the perfect way to love but this is the on...

I wasn't scared of marriage. I did not think about it could be one reason. And I did not know what all was part of the package could be another reason. But on examining it closer and having read a bit in the past few years, I realised I wasn't scared of marriage because I was not prepared, as a sacrificial goat often is, prepared for marriage. I think it largely begins and belongs with my mother as it begins, belongs and stays with other mothers. I think I wasn't scared of marriage and what all it will do to curb me as a person because I wasn't trained to be someone else after marriage. I was, since the childhood, put on a certain mental fodder that I took for granted would not change after the marriage. I am an avid reader and I was never fed the thought that I will be barred from reading when I got married. So why would marriage scare me? Brought up in such an atmosphere where I was taught by example how responsibilities of the household are meant to be share...

something's gotta be wrong with me. i have somehow lost the ability to do what i want to, say what i mean, thankfully i still mean what i say (well, almost, ummm...largely). why? i have often asked myself. the answer is not too direct or clear. but it borders around the fact that i have been brought up to believe that if you do anything putting your'self' first you are selfish and you know, being selfish is not a good thing. but of late i have realised that though certain things have stood the test of time hold good even today as they would in 'satyug'. there are things that have changed dramatically. now to teach a child to put herself at the bottom is to take away a lot from her. to train her for a lifetime to put herself and her needs on the backburner. and i dnt think that is fair. mothers and grandmothers are a classic example of this. looking after their families' every need they drive their minds and bodies to a great extent forgetting in turn that they a...