How does one go on fighting against all odds? How does one keep struggling to keep a family afloat, when no one else seems to care? How can a man look at his own flesh and blood child and keep coming home drunk? Where does a woman draw the line between giving up too easily and walking away while she can?
Category: Daily Life
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The torment of (in)decision
What does a mother answer a child curious about a father distanced because of her decisions? What does a mother answer a father about their child she’s taking away?The world is a cruel place. There are many who would like to listen to your woes and gleefully prescribe how things should be. And no “solution” fits the problem.I’m going through a bad, bad time. Pressured on every front there is – relationships, money, responsibility, scarcity….. Naturally, since its me, it follows that the one place where me having a problem would have an easy answer has no problem. The joy of my life is Nisarg. I feel just peachy to be a mom. Other problems that were already huge before this little guy came are now overwhelming.There are no easy answers. No one to support me if I walk away from my family, and no one to support the family financially if I walk away. The sorrow is that the only thing to crash in my absence would be the finances. Shows how used I allowed myself to be.Now, I have a little one to think of. Safety, relationships, life…. I have made the choices that bring me here. He hasn’t. How do I go on so that he doesn’t suffer for mine? -
My little sunflower
Just warms my heart to see,
This tiny piece of meFull of smiles and coosHe has nothing to looseAs he follows me around with his eyesWhen out of sight, he calls with criesFor he is my little sunflower,And I’m his mother -
Pain and fear
Just had some awful news. A friend of mine had a son recently and he developed some problems after birth and had to be hospitalized, where he died after two days. This must have been the hardest thing I have ever done….. I gave her a call and spoke with her briefly.
What do you say to a new mother who loses her child?
Just the thought of it was enough to shred all coherence from me, and we spent some torturous minutes of uncomprehending grief.
As a new mother myself, I have no fear greater than this, and I can only imagine how a mother who should have been celebrating instead is dealing with engorged breasts and no one to feed. All the hopes, dreams, love….. shattered.
I don’t know what to say, I don’t even know what to wish for…. Not my child. Mine is waving his hands and cooing as I swipe at tears, in a complete role reversal. For once, he doesn’t know why I’m crying and what to do about it. I’m grateful that I’m crying over a loss I will not be living with.
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The journey of vulnerability – A timeline
Two eyes met, attraction sparked.
Sexy, confident, secureTwo hearts met intention formed
Invincible togetherTwo lives merged, married
Embraced and celebratedDifferences arose, got resolved…. or not
Experience grewA small line on a stick changed colour
Eagerness stirredThe new life coming up became more and more real
Plans began – would they be?The child was born
The heart burst wide openThe child continued to be
starry dreams stood on stakeChoices swayed in the wind, uncertainties trembled on melting edges
would my baby pay the price of this unthinking ignorance?and now…..
The secure heart has this gaping hole of vulnerability and glorious fragility marches forward with purpose.
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What you see is what you get
What you see is what you get
I live with innocence.Scary innocence like I never thought possible
Courage to be defenceless in the unknown
And face and meet whatever comes along
Till I want to hide him away to keep him safeOne little guy who smiles, cries, grunts, stares
And what you see is what you getNo camouflage, no subterfuge, no pretences, no protection
Can I bear it?Can I have the courage to keep looking into this mirror day after day?
Can I rediscover myself to meet that honesty?My life throws up difficulties of simplicity
My self expands to encompass everything and failsYet I keep living each moment to my capacity
There is one to whom I am all he knows as okayWhere I have the power to define an entire world
I try that what he gets is what he sees in me. -
Travel tips to India
While searching for diaper rash because I wanted to know what its like, I came across a page with the stupidest information for visitors traveling to India with infants. Not only is it factually incorrect, it stinks of pseudo superiority.
I have a lot of friends who are foreigners (as in non-Indians). Many of them have kids. Some bring their kids here, a few have given birth in India. The top three things I hear from parents of infants about their India experience are:
- The tradition of post-partum massage in India totally rocks. Its the ultimate in pampering, and the stomach binding methods really help new moms get back into shape.
- India is a place to be experienced anew through the wonder of a young child.
- If you want to potty train your kid, bring him to India, and let a few of the grannies at him/her. Quick, painless and blessed freedom from marathon diapering.
I also know quite a few Indians who have settled abroad. These people seem to have lost touch with their sense of wonder in their need for looking down at the very things they grew up and flourished on. Take for example this article with its snobbish approach.
- Number one problem in India is mosquitoes! Wow!!! And what problems Harish faces with them. Mosquito nets are too hot, coils are a bad idea (I agree). odomos is unsafe for children, and to bring electronic repellents before entering India. This guy has seriously lost touch with what India has become. Whatever happened to the liquid repellents like All out? Odomos works fine on kids as young as you like as long as you don’t apply it on areas babies suck – hands. I don’t even know that it does harm if applied to hands.
- Water is a big problem. Sure – in some places, but bringing a kettle from US of A to boil it? The smallest roadside dhaba will give you all the boiled water in a clean utensil you want for free. Never mind the relatives you have come to meet.
- Infant formula can be found in one store in Mumbai? Is this guy nuts or totally clueless about shopping for babies? Its more like one store every 5 minutes in any direction.
- Not to bring babies under 2 years, one year etc. And here I was, an idiot for thinking that breastfed babies would have better immunity as well as make water problems irrelevant. Though if the guy has “psuedo-civilized” enough, he probably thinks breastfeeding is something the primitive Indians do and real babies thrive on formula.
Oh, I could go on and on and on…. but one thing leaps to my mind. Cheerful parents make cheerful babies and fussy parents make fussy babies. What wonder is it if the baby keep suffering because that seems to be all the parent can see?
While I hate to stereotype, this is such a glaring pattern, that I’d be lying if I’d de-nationalized it.
The British have left India, but the hangover of inferiority remains. For many people in India, reaching a place where they are better than other Indians imprisons them from appreciating what is, in their hunt for what’s wrong. They can relocate, but the mind remains in their prison of insecurities. There are two ways to be higher my friend. One is to life life to our best. The other is to push everything near us down. Guess which is easier, and which is more satisfying.
On the other hand, non-Indians enter India with a desire for discovery, prepared fully to enjoy their visit, and they find an enriching experience and adventure in the same land with the same number of shops and availability of products.
We can choose to win or whine. Remember, we will soon have echoes of our words coming out of our children’s mouths. What is the world we want them to discover? What is the attitude we want to encourage?
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Baby's naming ceremony
We had a small naming ceremony for the baby yesterday. We have named our son Nisarg.
Since Nisarg is still quite young, we decided on an immediate family only event, which went exactly as we had hoped. With lots of love, cheer and caring.
Nisarg means nature in Marathi.
