How I miss those happiness that came in small packages!

I am posting after a long pause. During this gap, a lot of things happened. We took a vacation to India, met a few old friends and ate a lot. Now, I weigh a few points more. I have started taking Zumba and Dance Aerobics Classes. I hurt my knee, again. My daughter grew a few more inches and her vocabulary only includes "No, Thank You". Well, in short, life happened. 

So today, I just felt nostalgic about my childhood. My daughter amazes me every day. I see her and I just wonder how diverse is our childhood. Being brought up in a middle-class family in a small town in India, my life was quite simple. But when I look back at those black-n-white memories, they look exquisite. I can see a bag full of joy, fear, dreams, and gratitude. But today, I feel my daughter's childhood is missing that joy of getting a long-awaited gift, the year-long wait for some new dress or shoes or the overloaded happiness on getting an ice-cream without an occasion.  

Let's take a peek at my three-year-old daughter's life, from a morning, a few days back. We were late and hurriedly I picked my daughter's rain boots from her collection of 8 pairs of shoes. She observed her shoes for a second and complained "Look, Mama, I am wearing a pink dress today. Why you giving me the blue shoes?" I replied plainly "It's raining outside, you will have to wear your rain boots today". She thought for a moment and replied immediately "Okay, we will have to buy a pair of Pink boots then".

"Hmmm... Really?" I thought and smiled at the flashes of my childhood. I used to get a new shoe once every year during the Durga Puja, our most cherished festival. There was no expectation of getting another one unless the existing one was no more usable. I remember, how I used to cling to the new shoe box, even at night and insisted on going to bed with my new shoes. I used to open the box every few hours to admire the new pairs and waited patiently till the first day of the festival when I got to wear that one. On rainy days, I remember my dad covering my plain white school sneakers with a plastic and securing it with a rubber band. Ummm....the sweet old memories!

A few days back, I went to the supermarket in our neighborhood with my daughter. She ran to the bakery section to pick up her cupcakes. It's her daily practice. After her dinner, I put one on her plate. She tasted the frosting on top and exclaimed "Ummmm, it's yummy!" and put that aside. I insisted "Take a bite, please"! Her immediate reply "No, Thank You, I am done, Mamma"! She seemed determined and I was baffled. Some old hazy pictures flashed in front of my eyes. It was a day when I scored well on my annual exam and returned home with a big smile. My mom, being pleased, offered me to get me to the market and get a pastry of my choice. I was exhilarated. We went to the bakery shop and after lots of considerations, I picked a chocolate pastry. After dinner, I got my pastry and I took small nibbles so that it didn't finish up soon. I just wanted to relish each spoon as long as I could. That became a practice and my incentive to score well in the exam was a simple chocolate pastry. My love for pastry was so renowned that my sister once traveled around 8-10 hours in a bus then train and then rickshaw holding a pastry box in hand to keep the top frosting part intact. Today, after two decades, I can still savor that exhilaration I felt on opening the box. The taste is still intact in my tongue. 

The list of differences is endless. I still cherish the excitement I felt when we took a vacation to a nearly sea beach. It was a night journey by train. The first time, I stood in front of those white sand and the blue waves, something happened inside me. I was in awe and in love. The day we were returning, I was so sad that my parents had to tell me repeatedly that we would go back soon. But nowadays, on weekends, my daughter wakes up from sleep and asks “Today is school day or a holiday?” On hearing that it’s a holiday, she tells as a matter of fact “we are going to the sea, right?”

I can go on and on. But I guess, this is life. Someone may argue that it is a good sign that we are progressing forward. Now, we can afford things and thus our kids do not have to feel deprived. Well, maybe that's right. But in my own space, I miss those longings, those small pieces of happiness and how I wish I could gift a flavor of my precious childhood to my child.

Walk with me, my child, down that memory lane 

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Her Poop Tale

My three-year-old daughter is amazing. Well, take a peek at any mom's heart and you will see a similar feeling. And, it is unquestionably true. A new-born baby is a master in 4 areas - feed, pee, poo, and cry. Sometimes, it just wonders me how fast a child learns. How their intelligence works and how perfect is the blend of their imagination and innocence!

Turning three was really a big deal for my daughter. She started telling everyone she meets "I am three years old. I am Big". She eats three cookies since she is three. At bedtime, she insists on reading three books. She believes she has three pairs of green socks since she is three years old.  In a nutshell, in this universe, anywhere if it is written three its only because she is three years old. 

She has her own set of beliefs. Whatever she hears, she interprets that in her own way. At times, she challenges my intelligence and leaves me tongue-tied. Like the other day, she made a serious face and reminded me "Mamma, you should share your things" when I was trying to put on a lipstick and I refused to put it on her lips even after her repeated plea. 

But today, I wanted to share a different story that annoys me and makes me giggle at the same time.  My darling daughter believes that everything has a life and a routine like hers, even her poop. 

Disclaimer: This post may get gross and it is my humble plea not to picture any of the moments.

A few days before she turned three, I went to her school to drop her in the morning. Her class teacher asked me to wait for some time and handed me a note that says: 
"Congratulations! Shreyanvi is now potty trained and is eligible to get promoted to the preschool." 
Any parent would know how exciting it feels when a child reaches a milestone. Apparently, I was delighted.  But, I always have my doubts. Initially, once she was declared "potty-trained" she found it exciting to explore any public toilet. Whenever we were out for lunch or shopping and we reached the destination, she declared proudly "I wanna go pee pee, Mamma". Maybe she wanted to reveal to everyone that she is no more on Diapers. Whatever may be the reason, I was disgusted to visit each and every loo I came across. That's why I started a routine for her.  Once she wakes up in the morning, she has to brush her teeth, eat her breakfast and then sit in her toilet seat before heading out. Most of the mornings, she sits there for almost half an hour, doing nothing. Soon, it became the best part of her day. She sits there and sings her rhymes happily. She does her ABCs and counting. She tells stories and expects her only listener(that's me) to laugh and participate. 

One morning, I looked at the watch and got really impatient and yelled "Hurry Up! Or you will reach your school tomorrow!" She replied immediately with an innocent face "My PooPoo is still sleeping, Mamma!" Although I was a little irritated, I could not suppress my smile. I wiped out my smile and responded, "So, wake her up Or you will be late!" 
She made a serious face and with a heavy voice, she scolded "PooPoo, WAKE UP AND COME FAST. I AM WAITING FOR YOU!" Surprisingly, her "poopoo" complied. She was overwhelmed and proud of herself. She had hundreds of questions thereafter.  "My PooPoo is a Girl or a Boy?" "Where is my PooPoo's mummy-daddy?" "When is her Birthday?" 

Then onwards, every morning, she still sits there for almost half an hour. She still tells her stories. But now, in between, she calls and talks with her poop and updates me on the different status like - "Still sleeping", or "brushing teeth" or "doing play play", even "eating bread"! Some days, she insists on rewarding her Poop with some stickers. Some other days she is angry with her poop, so I have to carry on the conversation. Well, that is parenting and it has its own perks.When my daughter's imagination goes wild, I just wait there and repeat:

💩"In my world, everyone's a pony and they all eat rainbows and poop butterflies" 

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'Maacher Jhol' on my Kadai

Scene 1: My Home

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Mom: Why you putting that fish aside? Gulp it up or eat that with the rice.

Tiny Me: I don't like fish. Why you didn't make chicken today?

Mom: Fish is good for your eyes. If you finish that fish you will be Super Intelligent.You will have glowing skin, shiny hair!

Me: Really? (Swallowing the fish with some water)

Scene 2: Lunch at some relative's marriage day 

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Aunty1: You are not eating anything?

Me: No No, I am eating. See!(putting some white rice in my mouth)

Aunty1: Why are you eating white rice? Take some fish! (On top of her voice) Get a fish for her and some curry.

Me(Silently, inspecting a storm following): I don't like fish.

Aunty2: What? You don't eat fish? What is happening to all these Bengali kids nowadays? Your Mom didn't tell you how beneficial it is? 

Me: Ummm, she did. Still, I don't like the taste.

Aunty1: Okay, at least take some Dal and curry. 

Me: Do you have anything vegetarian? Actually, the Dal is with Fish Head and even that curry.

Aunty2: Let me get you an Ice Cream!

Scene 2056:Bangalore Office

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👨 : Where are you from?

Me : Kolkata, I am Bengali.

👨 : Oh, So you must be very fond of fishes? I heard you eat fish for breakfast?

Me : Ummm(Rolling my eyes), No. Actually, I don't like fish much. But, I love sweets!(Trying to defend my Bangaliyana.)

Scene 4987: Introduction to my next door neighbor in US

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Neighbour: Hey, where are you from?

Me : West Bengal, Kolkata. And You?

Neighbour: Chennai. I  never met anyone from Kolkata before. But, I heard that you eat Fish a lot. We are Iyer Brahmin and vegetarians. 

Me: Yeah, we just love Fish!

And the above stories still continue...

There is a general perception that Bengalis are all about "Maacher Jhol"(Fish Curry).  Maybe, the majority of Bengalis proudly declare that a meal without a piece of Fish is incomplete. But, there are exceptions too! Is that so hard to believe?Okay, maybe I have never met a Tamilian who hates Dosa or a Telegu who resents Idli or a Punjabi who loathes Rajma-Chawal. But, I am sure they are out there somewhere. It's just that I have not met them yet!

After moving to the US, I eat fish once in a while. My husband loves "Maacher Jhol". Even my three-year-old daughter got her Dad's taste buds. Or, is it her Bengali gene calling for fish? Who knows? For their sake, I cook fish sometimes. 

I like to cook and experiment recipes. Sometimes, it goes well and sometimes, it is awful. But I never experimented with my Fish. I cook it as a routine. Maybe, that's because I never had cravings for Fish! Yesterday night, for the first time, I desired for that fish curry while watching the Movie "Macher Jhol".

I loved that movie. The plot of the film is refreshingly different. The ingredients are added in the exact proportion and that's why it turned out pretty delicious. Surprisingly, there is Football, Fish Curry and  Rabindra Sangeet that will tickle the Bengali Nerve; but, there is no Antel Monologues. All the characters stand strong and the story flows easily.

Paris-based Masterchef returns to Kolkata after 13 years to see his ailing mother. His mother throws a challenge to treat her to a "Maacher Jhol", he had cooked as a teen. What happened next? I won't share the story here since I believe the movie deserves a watch. I can only say, the movie left a sweet and tangy aftertaste or wait a minute, is that the Orange Fish taste that lingers in my mouth?

I am off to cook my "Macher Jhol". What are you cooking today?

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A-B-C of my "Driving"

Tiny Me: C for Car! (Yes, I only knew that much about a Car when I was a Kid)
Teen Me: Someday, I want a car of my own(Like the Red one in the picture)!
Earning Me: I need to start taking a driving lesson soon!
Car Owner Me: Why everyone conspires against me on road? Walking is much better! 

I have fantasized about driving a car for a long time. No selective Model or a style. It was just the idea of driving a car on my own. When I was growing up in a small town in India, a car was a luxury. In those inspirational speech sessions, my mom used to say "If you study well now, someday you will have a car of your own". Or, if I scored less on some exam, the idea was still the same, just in a different tone "You will never get to drive a car of your own if you continue to score like this." So yeah, a car was always the reward I was looking forward to.

I planned to take my first driving lesson, a few months before my marriage from "Jai Maruthi Driving School", in Bangalore India.I was thrilled with the notion. Before my first class, I practiced holding my imaginary steering wheel tight in my hands and whirl it with full force. I did not have a car at that time. On my first class, my instructor arrived in a white Maruti Alto. He asked me to get in the Driver seat and my first reaction was "Are you Serious?" It struck me for the first time, I would be responsible for the car, my driving instructor, all the people on road and certainly ME. I was horrified! My palm turned red and sweaty. Nervously, I struggled with the seatbelt and finally, my instructor intervened. 

After settling down, my instructor's first words were "Let's learn ABC of Driving - A for Accelerator, B for Brakes and C for Clutch. That's all you need to remember about driving." That's all? The next 30 minutes was a battle to decide where to put my feet strategically to handle that A,B and C. I don't understand how people are okay with this basic flaw of a car design! How 2 feet can take care of 3 things at a time? Or, maybe people like me were not comfortable with the Idea and that's why the concept of auto-gear popped in? Anyway, on my first few days of driving how I wished  I was an Octopus! 

Those days were challenging!  The first difficulty was to start the car. The next was to keep the car moving and to avoid stopping in the middle of the road.  I had always believed that constantly twirling the steering wheel is the key to driving. But when I actually got a steering wheel and demonstrated my practiced skill, my car started moving zigzag. My instructor from the passenger seat jumped in to hold my wheel steady and shouted on top of his voice "WHAT ARE YOU DOING?" I was scared and I panicked. I removed immediate my hands and feet from the car. And yes, it stopped abruptly in the middle of the road. People were honking and shouting all around me. I felt like opening the car door and run away from there. But again, my instructor was constantly nagging "Start the car!" I was frozen at that spot.The only thought that was flashing in my mind was "I am not going to drive again!". It was a nightmare. Slowly, the traffic passed me, people left and I started the car and came back home. 

In the next few days, the car stopped many times in the middle of a busy road. But I learned to ignore my surroundings and again start the car. There are a few benefits to learn driving in India. The driving school cars, hold a big banner on the top of the car displaying someone is learning. So, usually, the other people on road get cautious. Also, the instructors have a control on Clutch and Brakes on their own feet and they pretty much control the car. So yeah, I too learned "Driving" in a few weeks. Being certain that I can drive, I decided to get my driving license a few months later. In the meantime, I got married and got busy in life. Then one day, I got a call from "Jai Maruthi Driving School" that I need to appear for my Driving Test before my leaner's license expires.  So there was I, ready to get my Driving License without touching the car for 4-5 months. Was that my confidence in my driving skills? Not at all! It was my full faith in India's ill-famed corruption. When my turn came, the exam officer insisted to sit in the front seat. That meant, my driving instructor could not control the Clutch and Brake. Reluctantly, I got inside the car and started it after a few tries. It started moving slowly. I drove a few feet down the road and then the Officer instructed to reverse and park by the side of the curb. I put the reverse gear on and rode directly on top of the curb and parked it nicely there. My instructor who was sitting silently on the back by this whole time started screaming to stop the car. The Officer who was sitting in the passenger seat ran away even before the car stopped. Well,  I was proved wrong about the corruption in India and I was denied driving alone on road.

After that incident, I forgot about my dream of driving. We got a car. but, I preferred my passenger seat.I had more important things to do. I had to take photos. I had to correct my husband's faults during driving. Ohh yes, I was totally occupied. 

After a year or two, once again that driving bug started bothering me. I again enrolled myself in another driving school. After 3 or 4 classes I came to know about my pregnancy and I discontinued. Was there any reason for that? Absolutely not! It was just another excuse. After my daughter was born, we decided to move to States and I knew how difficult it is to survive in the US without driving. That's why I decided to take a class a third time. This time, I managed to convince my friend to accompany me and we decided to learn together. We took the class at the same time in two different cars.  We waved at each other excitedly on the road when we met as if we were meeting after years. Both of us knew all the rules of driving. It's just that we did not have the confidence to hit the road. This time, I completed my lesson and somehow managed to get my first driving license. My friend already had one. 

On moving to the US, the challenges were different. I had to unlearn what I had learned. But the rules and the auto gear were blessings for me. Finally, I got my driving license. Well, that's a different story to tell.Now, I am eligible to drive alone on road. It was a long and terrifying journey.  Still, I am scared of highways. I don't let my steering wheel go. I never eat or drink or sneeze while driving. However, I can ride a car. If you are scared to drive, you are not alone my friend! But "don't let the fear of what could happen to make nothing happen!" Some roads are beautiful and some journeys are rewarding.Sit behind the steering wheel and you will feel a fear.Don't let that fear to be the driving force in your life. Learn the A-B-Cs of driving and keep riding your dream. Then finally, a day will come when you will notice that anyone driving slower than you is an Idiot and anyone going faster than you is a Maniac! Live for that Day!

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Eat, Sleep and Netflix

"I'm sorry, I don't own a TV.
You don't own a TV? What's all your furniture pointed at?"

Does that sound familiar to you? Okay, how about this one?

"But it hurts my Joye's Apple.
For the last time, it is not named after each individual man."

Context: They were talking about Adam's Apple. Still, not sure? And here goes my last clue.

"Everyone is getting married or pregnant or promoted. And I am getting coffee. And it's not even for me."

Yes, I am talking about "Friends(F•R•I•E•N•D•S) ", the 10 season series which was first aired in the 90's and still it is aired on some or other channels daily. Every time I browse through TV channels, I stop for "Friends" and for a good laugh. You can even catch some funny moments on Youtube. 

I was first introduced to "Friends" by my husband. He had the 10 seasons in CDs. Though, he had lost one or two of them. Thus, first time, I watched the show without a season in the middle and the entire last one. I was curious to know what actually happened in the end. So, I again started watching on Netflix and completed the entire seasons. Till then, I watched many shows and yet "Freinds" is my all-time favorite. 

I watch Netflix, just to relax. I am fond of the shows where I don't have to use my brain. I like comedy, drama or the one with beautiful vivid backdrops. Adventure, Superheroes or any kind of violence is usually not my forte. So, here goes my list of Netflix Series for you who enjoy lucid comedy or light-hearted drama.

1. F•R•I•E•N•D•S: 

I think "Friends" is one of the most popular TV shows of all time. The story begins when Rachel runs away from her Wedding and meets her childhood friend Monica. Soon, they become roommates. Monica is a chef and Rachel starts working as a waitress at "Central Park", a Manhattan coffee house. Rachel joins Monica's Friend circle which consists of Ross, Monica's elder brother, Chandler who is Ross's friend, Joye who is Chandler's roommate and Phoebe. Ross is a Dianosarus Doctor(ummm a Paleontologist). No one knows what Chandler actually does for a living. But he uses his humor whenever he is nervous. Joye is a struggling actor who loves to eat and does not share his fries with anyone. Joye is popular among women with his catching phrase "How you doing?" Phoebe is a Masseuse in a massage parlor and loves to sing "Smelly Cat". I still can't decide who is my favorite among these six Friends. I think, people just love them as a combination and not individually. 

2. How I met your Mother:

Another Manhattan-based story which started airing in 2005. However, I watched it much later, all the 9 seasons together. The series revolves around Ted an architect, in flashback, narrating his children about how he met their Mother. In his story, he introduces his friends Marshall- a lawyer, Lily(Marshal's wife)- a kindergarten teacher, the playboy Barney and the news reporter Robin. 
The series has numerous elements of humor and drama. But I had a feeling that it is dragged a bit in the later seasons. Overall, a fun watch.
Recently, it is removed from Netflix. But I am sure it can be streamed from some other providers.

3. Gilmore Girls:

A woman-centric series with a colorful background. The show centers on the life of two girls - a single teen mom Lorelai and her daughter Rory. They live in a small beautiful town named 'Stars Hollow', which is fictional. It portrays beautifully the contrasts of the mother-daughter relationship in a witty and intense background glazed with some ambition, family clashes, and romance. The series has 7 seasons and its a perfect mix of humor and drama.

4. Switched At Birth:

Again, a family drama with a slightly different plot. Two girls in their teenage discover they are switched at birth by mistake in the hospital. Since then, their lives turn upside down. The story revolves around these two girls, how they get adjusted to two different set of parents. One of the girls turned Deaf due to some medical issue in her childhood. I learned about ASL(American Sign Language) for the first time from this series. This show has 5 seasons and the last one being aired in 2017. 

5. Royal Pain:

This series is based on concierge medical practice of a doctor and his life and family. This series started in 2009 and has total 8 seasons. I started watching it because it already has 8 seasons and I find it distressing to search for a series every 3-4 days. The protagonist of this series is Dr. Hank Lawson who was an ER Doctor in New York and was wrongfully terminated. He moved to Hamptons for a weekend trip and eventually settled down there with his brother, practicing 'house call' medicine. 

I prefer to complete a series and then start a new one. While picking a new series, I search for something offbeat and thus ended up watching a few series in the different genre. Below are the other series with an unconventional kick and pace and I actually loved:
6. Crown
7. Sherlock
8. Agents of S.H.I.E.L.D
9. Quantico
10. 13 Reasons Why

Every time I start Netflix, I agree with myself to watch only one episode and then get back to work. I click on the next episode and whisper "Just another episode!" and end up watching a few more. Netflix is an addiction, an equally dangerous one as my craving for sweets. Why there is no Anti-Netflix patch available like a Nicotine patch? I would happily wear one. Or, there should be some App where I would fix my Netflix time and once set, no matter what, it should be unalterable. Wow, that can be a new Business idea! Till that idea hits the market "Happy Netflixing Guys!!!"

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'School Romance' in the 90's

Today morning, I was driving my daughter to her school pre-school. She just turned three and started her pre-school. Before that, she used to go to the same Montessori, but toddler class. We used to even call that 'School'. On getting promoted to her pre-school, she started believing that she is a 'Big Girl' and school is only for babies. So, whenever we talk about her school, she corrects me “Mamma, that is pre-school, not school. I am a big girl now!” So yeah, we were driving to her pre-school and she was continuously babbling about how Mr. Sun was still sleeping and her car seat was cold and it's evening or morning and so on. 

With the onset of winter, the morning was cloudy and a bit foggy. It rained last night. So, the streets were damp. Everything looked gray! I am not a big fan of winter in the US. It makes me gloomy. I was driving a little absent-mindedly while responding to my daughter's chit-chats. I saw a bunch of school goer kids at the intersect, trying to cross the road. I stopped to let them cross first. It was a mixed group of 6-8 kids of different ages. They were all talking and giggling and wearing some bright and interesting dresses and hair. Soon, my gloomy morning turned vivid. Some of them were on a skateboard. They crossed the road without even noticing me. They reminded me of my school days and it was so different.

Growing up in a small suburb in India, in the 90's, in a middle-class family, my childhood was simple, yet remarkable. There was nothing in excess. Still, we were content. We had to wear uniforms to school. My dad used to take me daily on a bicycle. I sat in the front until I started riding my own cycle. I went to a co-ed school. In India, there are schools only for boys and only for girls. Mine was for both. The primary classes (Class I to Class V)started from 6:30 in the morning with a Prayer, a particular song which we had to sing daily. Classes from VI till XII were at noon. There are so many memories that are flashing through my mind today. The classroom, the blackboard, the desks, the playground and certainly the school romance.

The "School Romance" was very different, back then. Even in that age of no phone, mobile, Facebook and Whatsup, there were a bunch of macho boys who loved to imagine themselves as a Hero in a Movie. Though the access to movies was limited, a weekly interaction with Bollywood was of plenty influence to those days of puberty. They wore the newest shirt they got on some festival, took their manly ride out( a Bicycle) and stormed around the town in search of their "Soulmates". They got skilled with practice. There were a few formulae to impress a girl.A Bicycle stunt or a love letter or just following a girl to get noticed were the top amongst all. Love letters were a troublesome job and also it had to be creative. Spellings and Handwriting were the biggest hurdles to cross. But who cared about those spelling mistakes if there were a few cute Hearts in a letter? The most popular ones are "I Love You" with some hearts - an easy and effective solution.

I Love You...

The Bollywood fever had even stricken some girls. The count of Love Letters and the number of interested Romeos buzzing around were some factors to make a girl "pretty" and "popular". The style is an all-time favorite weapon for girls. Given the lack of exposure and supplies, they had to do the best they could with their limited awareness. A pretty face was not enough. Girls started walking on roads as they were walking on ramps. Uniform was a MUST to our school. So, they folded and pulled the socks down to expose some skin and the boys got clean-bowled by their finesse. The girls always got to choose the Winner and flaunt the "love of life". The heart-broken and failed Romeos felt humiliated and totally perished until they saw their next "Soulmate".

What was the parent's role in all these dramas? Mostly, the parents were unaware and dead against. That made the whole idea more lucrative and just an exact scene from a movie. If the kids got caught somehow, they had to start a revolt to prove how much they were in love. But most of the time, a tight slap from their parents was enough to cure the "Loveria".

Well, there were also some kids like me. Discovering all those romantic stories from my class, my mom sat with me one day and explained how inappropriate it is for a kid at that age. It was a clear threat that if I became a part of a story like that from my school, I would be disowned. But, that warning was not at all necessary for me. It was me who was scared to death if a boy followed me home. I was always an introvert. So, making friends with some unknown boys was not my forte. 

One day, a boy threw a paper at me, on my way back home.I let it fall on the road itself and biked faster. It was not me being rude. It's just that I did not know what else to do. Then another guy, whom I had seen a couple of times before, stopped me on my way back from school. He started explaining how he was not able to eat, study and sleep after he had seen me. I asked him all concerned if he had informed his parents or if I should tell them.He got offended and left. My winner story revolves around a guy from my painting class. I used to attend a Painting class, every Sunday afternoon. I walked alone to the class since it was just behind my place. There was a boy who made me feel uncomfortable every day by doing or not doing something. He used to wait outside the class and followed me to the class to take a seat somewhere near me. Soon, I started spotting him everywhere I went. In the class, we had to remove our shoes before entering. One day, while leaving, I wore my shoes and felt something soft. I saw that guy standing nearby. So, I wore my shoes in a hurry and walked home. On reaching, I removed my shoes and discovered a Red Rose inside. I took the crushed rose and threw it and went inside. It happened again for the next consecutive weeks. Maybe, he was expecting a response while I preferred to ignore. Realizing that his innovative idea was not being praised enough, or even noticed, he decided to confront me. Well, it did not go well and he scared me off. So, I decided to let my parents know about it and the rest was history.

It's so incredible how such small silly things take up the most room in our heart. I still remember so many stories from my childhood. Though it looked stressful that time, it puts a smile on my face today. I can't stop thinking about those golden days, those friends, those not-so-friends and my school, where most of my beautiful memories were created.

My School

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#MeToo - My tiny contribution to a bigger cause

I saw a post on Facebook which states "#MeToo... Several Times". I was confused. What is that all about? I ignored and I forgot about it. A few hours later, I saw another post with the MeToo hashtag. I did a little google and got some idea. I thought for a moment: "Should I or I should not?" I decided on negative. I decided to do nothing. I have more than 300 friends on Facebook and I saw the Hashtag only 5times, till now. So, I guess, all of my friends think alike!But what are we thinking?

I assume #MeToo is a movement to understand the magnitude of sexual assault or violence. But, wait! What the Data says here? Only 5 out of 330 of my friends have voiced their concern which is just 1.5%. So, how are we going to infer on the degree of this problem when we do not have the real data?

I was born and brought up in a small industrial town in India, in a middle-class family. Most of the time I was accompanied either by my mom or my dad or my sister. Still, I have experienced Fear, Embarrassment, and Anxiety. I did not know about sexual harassment. I just knew that I was encountering that behavior since I was a GIRL. Oh Okay! Now, I have learned that even MEN can be a victim of Sexual Violence. But, as per my culture, my upbringing and my life, I have never seen a guy getting a crude comment on the road or getting elbowed in a bus. So yes, all my views and perceptions are based on a small-town girl who has lived through this.

The town, where I was brought up, is SAFE for women. There are no incidents of sexual violence, at least nothing that we are aware of. We never stayed out at night. There was no scope either. But there was the culture of guys assembling in a club or by the side of the road for chit-chats, infamously called "ADDA". There were different 'Addas' for different age group and different sets of people, at different places. Even, the purpose is different. I have always seen those "Addas" as the gathering for the street-side-Romeos. They sit there to tease passing girls with their comments, whistles and gawk. I remember, how I used to stop breathing for those few seconds if I had to pass by a "Romeo" group. I hoped that if I could stop my breath for a few seconds, I could let those stare and comments pass by. But how stupid an act was that? Do you call that a Sexual Harassment? I did not know! Still, I am not sure. And, I bet many of my friends still don't consider that as a Sexual Harassment and that's why no #MeToo.

When I completed my school, I moved to Kolkata for my college. The first time, I was all alone in the city. I was the shy girl from a small town. I have stayed at a paying guest and also in a hostel. I have traveled alone. I studied in an Engineering college where girls: boys ratio was 1:10.I have lived through the sexual assault everywhere and every day. I have experienced men of all age hovering on me on a crowded bus. I never understood what a perverted pleasure a man gets feeling hard in a bus full of unknown people and letting a girl know that she is the reason. I have felt anger, humility every day. I had planned on raising my voice. But most of the times, I couldn't. I got down before my stop and rode another bus and bought another ticket. I walked to my stop, many times. I was ashamed to talk about it. I was embarrassed to make a scene out of it. I practiced many times to protest. But, on the crime scene, I was silent. I knew it was not my fault. But, I was never taught to stand for myself. Do you call that a Sexual Assault? I did not know! Still, I am not sure. And, I bet many of my friends still don't consider that as a Sexual Assault and that's why no #MeToo.

I completed my degree and started working. I promoted myself to a taxi or an auto since I was getting a good amount of salary. But, that heinous act did not stop. I was still a commodity to stare at. I still heard nasty comments. I was still touched. I learned that a man's distorted behavior does not depend on age or education or the dress a girl is wearing. It's an illness and it can infect anyone. The guy who was trying to touch my boobs in an auto, hiding his hand under his bag, worked in the same MNC where I worked. I tagged that man as ILL. I took a rickshaw to my home from a nearby railway station on a sunny day. I got down at my home and took out my purse to pay that above 50-year-old man. "Your pant Zip is open" the man commented with an evil smile on his face and pointing out a finger. I was flustered. I did not know how to react. My ears turned red in pain and mortification and anger. I threw the money at him and ran inside. Even, After 15 years of that incident and 12,601KM away, I am struggling while writing it down. Still, I don't understand what sadistic pleasure he got with that comment. Guess what, I was wearing a salwar suit that day. Do you consider all these incidents as Sexual Harassment? I did not know. Still, I don't understand and sadly that's why a no #MeToo.

Today, I do not travel in a public transport. I am married. I stay in United States where I drive. I do not encounter a harassment in my daily life. But I am a mom of a Girl and I know it is my responsibility to protect my child. I know, I can't be with her every time she hears a sexual comment. She will have to win her own battle and figure out a way that suits her nature, her judgment. What I can do as a mother? I will tell her "You are not supposed to encounter any sexual harassment since you are a Girl!"  I will teach her not to run away. I will make her believe that she should never be ashamed of an act of some other person who is sick.

I too dream of a world without a Metoo hashtag. But the reality is, it's just an ideal world and far far away. Instead, we can concentrate on preparing our girls to fight for it and our boys fight too for the same cause! Stop this Pink and Blue distinction! Put an end to this Car and Doll differences! Raise them with same values and love them equally and just as a "Home Sapiens".

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Pink or Blue - Which color are you?

I went to a neighborhood park with my daughter. She was insisting on me riding the slide, while she would wait on the bench. I was trying to convince her that it should be the other way around. During our heated discussion, a man walked in with a cute baby in a stroller.

I whispered to my daughter "Look, a Baby!" 

My daughter, on top of her voice: "Baby, Where?" and then on noticing the man and the baby, she added: "Ohhhhhhhhh!"

The man smiled and I asked casually "a girl or a boy?"

He looked offended and snapped "Hey, look he is wearing blue! Obviously, he is a boy!" 

I was embarrassed. In that few seconds, I didn't notice what the baby was wearing. I flashed my apologetic smile and asked: "How old is he?" He replied sternly, "Almost a month now!" I beamed and took my daughter to the slide. The conversation ended in a few seconds but a thought lingered in my mind: "Why is it so obvious?" 

That's a girl and she is wearing Blue!

I  never noticed this color discrimination until my daughter was born. My childhood was colorful like a rainbow. I wore all the colors and I love Colors. I never knew that a girl has to like shades of pink and a boy means blue. There were no branded stores or media to put that idea in my mind. But when my daughter was born, I stepped into a popular branded baby store and I was surprised. The shop was divided into three sections - pink on one side, blue on the other side and a few white and yellow in the center. The soft shades of pink and blue looked exquisite. But, "Where are all the colors?" I wondered. 

Now, my daughter is three years old. I see pink everywhere - her clothes, jackets, shoes, bag, her tricycle, her car everything is either pink or purple. Even, she had asked for a pink cake on her Birthday. How did that happen? I didn't plan for this.I am just a victim of the color-gender pairing that is dominating the market and even people's mind. I bought so many blue rompers for her when she was a baby. I had to pick that from the boy's section.  I used to look for any color other than Pink. If it is Blue, so be it. I wonder, what she would have told me if she could speak at that age!

"Mamma, I am a GIRL and I like Pink"

My choices are limited now. Besides, I can no more pick from the boy's rack. Most importantly, I have to dress up my daughter for school every morning. So, I try to play it safe and do not experiment much with her dress when she believes Pink is her favorite color. A three-year-old's judgment is clouded and I will try to help her see through it. But what about those parents, who believe that too much of pink can change a boy's sexual orientation. Honestly, I have never seen a baby boy dressed in a pink suit. If you see a baby wrapped in a soft cuddly pink blanket, what would be your guess about that baby's gender? How would you react if your son declares his favorite color is Pink?
I am worried how deep it is routed. How would parents let their child make their own choices when they are biased? How would a child express his/her likes and dislikes if those are not approved by their own parents?

I don't see a reason behind this gender stereotyping. I like Pink! But I like a Blue too. I do wear Blue all the time. And I believe most of the women wear different shades of blue. But I hardly see men wearing a nice pastel shade of Pink. Even, I have never gifted my husband a pink shirt, nor my dad. What's wrong with us? How can a man's manhood be challenged, just wearing a color? It's core inside the man and it can't be dictated by the color they wear or the car they drive or the sports they watch or the drink they prefer.

So, wake up moms! Dress your girl in a blue shirt with a cute little dinosaur or a car. You don't have to buy the princess diaper every time. Let her explore the car diaper, it is equally effective. And for the boys' mamma, it is okay if your boy does like Pink or a fairy. The last thing that you can buy in a store is a man's manhood! So, Why do you bother?

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A Lipstick or a Smile - What you wearing?

I am not a Lipstick person. I love colors. But somehow, I don't like it much on my lips. It is said that they can tell a lot about you from your Lipstick Color. Well, what can they tell if you are not wearing any? Let me guess, "LAZY?"

I have always wondered how the lipstick stays so perfect and intact for some people. Do they eat or drink? Do they breathe?  If I put on a Lipstick and I promise myself not to smack my lips or get tempted by the fruity flavors to lick my lips, I can make it for an hour. After that, I always wondered, "How it gets vanished?" If it disappears totally, I feel better. But for most of the time, it stays there half naked to mock my inefficiency. So, my answer is 'don't wear a Lipstick if you can't pull it off'.

However, I get attracted to the lovely display of colors at the Makeup aisle in the stores. I don't wear it often. Still, I get drawn to those colors. I always wondered "WHY"? I think a Lipstick is the best way to fake fancy. A little color on lips can speak a volume. This weekend, I stopped again in one of that colorful aisle in a store. But, this time, my soon-to-be-three-year-old girl accompanied me. She was way more excited than me, seeing all those pretty shades of pink and purple. She assumed that we were doing crayon-shopping for her.  She loves colors. For a few days, she is doing a lot of paintings. Oh Yeah, if you can call this an art!

She was running up and down the aisle choosing colors and I had to tell her that it’s not for her, but for Mamma. She was surprised and disappointed. She narrowed her eyes and asked, “ You want to do color Mamma?”I replied “No, this color is not for paper. I will put it on here” and I touched my lips.Assuming that I touched my teeth, she inquired wide-eyed “This is your toothbrush?” I was busy looking for some lip color and I just replied “NO” without paying much attention to her. She poked me and asked again “This is your toothpaste?”

I just snorted and that did not discourage her. She thought for a moment and asked again “You are going to eat that Mamma?” 

I understood that unless I answer her inquisitive mind, I had no rescue. So, I showed her a picture and explained: "See, I have to put this on my lips like this". She assimilated the new piece of information and asked with all her innocence "Why Mamma"? I opened my mouth to answer and I stopped uncertain. Shall I tell her "to look pretty" when she believes that she has to wear a smile on her lips to look pretty? 

Hundreds of thoughts, questions, and answers clouded my mind in those few seconds when she was looking at me for an answer and I was all silent. Finally, I gathered all my wit and responded nervously and expecting more interrogations "Lipstick is like a Lollipop for big girls. It can bring a smile on our face even when we are sad. A smile is all that is needed to look pretty". She just nodded her head and replied "Oh! Okay" with a smile, as if she knew that answer long before and went back to her own world of running down the aisle. 

I felt so relieved getting off the hook from my daughter's series of questions. I smirked to myself as I realized "Why I get drawn to those colors when I don't wear it often".

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"Good" is the new "Pretty"!

"I like this pretty boy!" declared my not-yet-3-year-old daughter, while having her dinner. 
"What?" I asked bewildered. This is a conversation I was expecting in another 15 years or more or may be never. 
"Which pretty boy?" I asked.
She smiled sheepishly and pointed her dad and replied "This pretty boy, this Daddy". 

If she wears a frock, she calls it a pretty dress. Put on a headband or a flower clip, she starts dancing "That's Pretty!". So, I knew "Pretty" is something that she associates with something she likes. But "Pretty Boy" - that is a first. So, I asked her "Who else is Pretty?" She thought for a moment and said "Alan". She goes to a Montessori and her school is her little world. There are around 30 kids and 4 teachers in her class. She talks about her school, class, teachers and the other kids all the time. "Alan" is a boy in her class. I just rubbed off the grin from my stupid face and asked again "Who else?". She replied "Ben", another boy. "Hmph! Still not my name!' I wondered. Let's give it another shot. "Which girl is Pretty"?Well, that's my desperate attempt to move the pointer in my direction. She answered smiling without giving it a second thought "OLI". 'Oli' is her nickname, if you have not guessed it yet. She might have noticed the disappointment on my face. She added quickly "Miss Tim" and "Miss Sarah", two of her teachers, whom she adores. 

I just lost any hope of getting a place in her "Pretty" list. But what struck me was that she did not mention her other two favorite teachers. So, I pushed "What about Miss Susan"? She just looked at me, surprised at her mom's ignorance and replied sincerely "Miss Susan is Good, No Pretty!" I was stupefied. So, my 2-n-something old daughter defines "Pretty" as something or someone whom she finds attractive! She believes, a person with a beautiful face is "Pretty" and a person with a beautiful heart is "Good"! I wondered "Where do I stand in her world"? Is it too early to tell her that "Beauty isn't about having a pretty face; It's about having a pretty mind, a pretty heart and a pretty soul"? Well, I am sure, she will figure that out on her own. For now, I need to concentrate on  "What I want to be - her pretty mom or a good mom?" The answer is simple. I want to see myself at the intersection of "Pretty" and "Good" and to be the "Pretty Good" Momma."How to get there?" - well, that is a riddle  I need to solve. Till then, here is a glimpse of my "pretty" girl and her "pretty" boy and me (not-so-pretty) behind the lens!

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Why everything has to be so different?

Remember those days when you just started working and got paid in your first IT job? Remember how you used to roam around flashing your ID/ Access card to prove that you were no more a student and get paid every month? Many of us goes through a similar phase and I have no shame to accept that Yes, I was one of them. 

The most exciting part was those tempting offers for new credit card!!! Some sales people used to stand in front of our office building to promote their credit card with so many lovely offers. Get one movie ticket free every Thursday! Get some free travel package! Get discounts at pantaloons or shoppers stop! Everything they used to offer were so tempting, but only initially!  Slowly, those offers lose their charm. Then, you had to learn the art of refusing. Well, I had gone through that phase too. When there was not a single place for any new credit card in my wallet, I knew that I have to start saying a 'NO'. I mastered that art!  

But now, things have changed. I moved to United States. Here, first time I heard about  'Credit History'! I went to a renowned Bank and asked for a credit card. I was surprised and shocked after what I heard! 'Since you are new to this country and do not have a credit history, we can't get you one free credit card!'  I thought to myself, 'Are  you serious? I walk to the bank myself and asking for a credit card and you are denying?'

But, that's how it is! I learnt, I have to build my Credit History to get eligible for a credit card or a loan.I couldn't help asking 'If I don't have a credit card then how am I expected to build that remarkable history?!' I was offered a secured credit card ( Read it as - buy a credit card) ,build a history and then proudly apply for a new one, when it is established that I do well on credit! Oh, that's different!

But that's not the only difference. I convert my weight in kgs from lbs every time I stand on the weighing scale. I change the temperature to celcius whenever I am on the weather app and the list goes on and I really wonder why everything has to be so different!

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How Much I Miss You!

It's been a month now and still I am not able to love this place. I miss my land, my job, my home, my friends. But what I miss most is YOU!

We had our differences, we spoke different languages, we had different food habits, we were so much different! In spite of all those differences, you used to take care of me  and my everything! I still remember those days, when you sneak into my house in the early morning, saving glances and glares from everyone. I knew, you cared!

Today, when we are thousands of miles away, when we wake up at different timezones, when we have no means of communication, I miss you and I think of you every now and then. How I wish to see you around!

Those mornings, when I prepare a breakfast and struggle to feed my daughter and wish if someone would prepare a hot steamy breakfast for me, I think of you! The day when my dishwasher broke and had to clean all the dishes by myself, I thought of you. When I look at the pile of cloths to fold and sort out, I think of you! To be honest, you are always in my mind NAGAMMA, my best helping hand, my maid, my cook, I miss you so much!!!

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Why did I leave my home?

I asked myself  'why do people leave their own land(native) and settle down in a foreign land?'  Or may be, I should put my question in a different way.' Why it is considered more happening or prestigious to stay in a 500 sq ft rented house in a foreign country than a 1500 sq ft own apartment in your own country?' I asked many people. But my question is still unanswered. That's why, I decided to find it out on my own and enlighten others who are wondering the same.

Most of my friends from school, college and workplace are settled in US. Even my sister holds a green card. I was curious! How it will be like? How my life would be different? Now, I have no clue what I am doing here!

I left my 10 years old job, my own 3BHK apartment, own car, and relocated to US, from India. I knew, it would be a difficult task. But how much difficult? Ummmmm I didn't have any idea! Everything has changed since then and now my life is on a roller coaster ride.

I am not yet ready to answer my question. But I hope, some day soon, I will have an answer! Let me save the Edit for that day!

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What am I doing here?

I have a lots in my mind and right now I am in a cleaning spree. I am clearing my thoughts and dumping everything in the recycle bin. Well, I have to make some space for the fresh stocks!

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