the birthday document!

Hi!
This was a birthday gift for Ashok who is not in town on D day. I realised that most of my girl-friends feel the same way about their husbands - we crib about 'em, grumble about things they dont do, moan & groan .... but deep down inside realise that life wouldn't have been the same without these guys - I mean, who would we fight with & play the blame game with?! Read on ...
Being nice is a tough act for me – it goes against my natural, mean, nasty persona which I am so comfortable with! Am petrified that a sweet disposition may lead to diabetes, which despite all the carbs & calories stacked in this bulky frame, I have miraculously escaped!

So call it Nature’s balancing act, the opposites attract syndrome or whatever, but Ashok represents my concession to sugar for the soul!

A twenty yr old relationship also spells twenty birthdays & having run through shirts, shoes, books, music, perfumes, ties ... my creative juices have dried up! We now have a very clinical, sensible, logical, fight-free formula for birthday presents - that that person chose their their gifts! We lay out our lists & civilly trot off to pick ‘apney’ presents! This new arrangement has lifted the dark cloud of mortal fear, uncertainty & a state of constant doubt for the better half. I am a restless, ungrateful soul & no present has ever achieved a state of total satisfaction! My birthday used to represent “Mission Impossible” for poor Kaushik-garu! Every gift was picked up diffidently, tentatively & the shop owner had to pledge that exchange was a done part of the deal!

If u have noticed a spring in his step & a trouble free glow on his pink cheeks, (no, he hasn’t started using men’s fairness creams, which for some reason, I find gross & funny!), it is thanx to our new & improved solution for b’day gifts!

Yeah, yeah, we are sticking to the ‘list’ – what’s with guys & blue jeans – especially the Ashok kinds who are traditional, have worn the same style forever & cannot think beyond Levis ?? So come Dec 6, and the jeans in the household will have a newcomer to welcome – any subtle difference in the shade of blue gets washed away in my tagda whirlpool, & we will soon boast triplets (of the jeans kind!) like Farha Khan!!

But in some remote corner of my heart, lying dormant was this niggling desire to spring a birthday surprise … so Ashok, preserve this, put it under lock and key, make many copies ….. here I am for the first time in prose, acknowledging, grudgingly no doubt, reluctantly definitely, but nevertheless, my gratitude for all your birthdays, particularly the inaugural one (would have loved to have been around to witness the next few birthdays when your mom, who was upset at you turning up as the third in a string of boys, decided to battle with nature & dressed you in girls clothes!!! What a treat that would’ve been!). Pushing aside the mountain of fights, grievances, tantrums, threats of ‘main maaikey chali jaaoongi, tum dekhte rahiyo’ (never put it to the test though – what if he ‘dekhoed’ happily & moved on???) … I declare –‘tu hi re, tere bina main kaise jiyoon’ …. (Gawd, this is getting saccharine ‘n sickening – may need insulin shot!)

*We are adept at moving about in the darkness thanx to the fact that you’ll never change a bulb in time, or I may fracture my foot again in the slippery bathroom, which boasts a washing machine with magic qualities – only I can see that the pipe leaks!
*While I grumble but live with the above, can’t imagine life without your insane sms msgs ranging from a cheery, for no reason “Jai Bajrang Bali!”, or “Radhey Radhey!” to mysterious codes like “Black Dog calling White Cat!” There are times when Shiksha and I just read your msgs & crack up with laughter!
*That balancing act we were talking about – sure I can remember the lyrics for almost every song since the beginning of time …. But sadly, these lungs were made for shouting, not singing! Someone up there decided to send u to deliver music to those be-jaan words! Hate to admit this, but u are right, buster – in our perennial argument of words vs sur, the latter rules! Bonus I guess is Shiksha – she can sing like you, but actually knows the lyrics as well!
*Happy Birthday to the best bitch buddy ever – who else would I dissect, analyse, comment, criticize & gossip wickedly with, about every living moment of life!
*U Tarzan, me Jane (many Janes actually, considering the size!)- for accepting me ‘in sickness, and in health’ – my current ‘sickness’ is to imitate a child’s voice & loudly scream ‘khaana jaldi laao, bhaiyya, bahut bhookh lagi hai!’ while Ashok is on the phone placing an order for home delivery! Picture the scene, Ashok poker face, talking on the phone, me screeching away in my baby voice & Shiksha giggling hysterically! It is left to poor Tarzan to face delivery guys who land up at our doorstep with a look of fascinated horror!
*Nature sent u as the perfect foil for the drama queen in yours truly – you have learnt to deal, with a huge pinch of salt, all my threats of dying & coming back as a ‘bhooth’ to check if your second wife is treating Shiksha well! Of course, unlike her seedha dad, our wicked daughter spots an opportunity there too and is waiting for my ‘ghost’ avtaar to help out with exam papers, torturing people who piss her off, shop-lifting …
*My rambling jottings under ‘life n laughs’ epitomizes our journey together - that’s us, a life full of laughs & here’s to many more – Happy Birthday!!

From 'Mommy Dearest' to 'Mommy Meanest!'

This dates back to a lifetime ago, when I viewed parenting through rose tinted spectacles. Perched high on a fluffy pink cloud of thoughts, I fantasized about being the perfect, cool mom, a charming breath of fresh air to Generation Next, who would bridge the ugly gap b/w conservative, old fashioned adults and the youth brigade. I envisaged yours truly as the proud bearer of the flag of understanding, friendship, peace and change. In unguarded moments when I allowed rational adults like my mother into my dream world, they reacted the way any normal, sane individual would, by sneering, & firmly squashing my thoughts, as the delirious ranting of an unhinged mind!!

Cut to the present: Life in the Mommy lane is as real as it can get. All those myths, duly exploded in my face, and am today a wiser soul, with healthy fear for the ‘nayi peedi’!! As for being the hip, break-through parent, forget it!! The few pleasures left in life are to play your trump card, the ‘I’m your mother and you have to listen to me’ dialogue, and make your precious child’s life miserable!!

This enlightened stage of Nirvana? Allow me to walk u through the rocky road which led to it …

*If music be the food for life, stick to your kind. I tried to keep pace with Brittney Spears & Blue & …. By the time I figured out who was who & what & how to download & upload, Ms Spears was yesterday’s bad news & branded an incapable mom who doesn’t wear underpants!! Her posters were ripped off my daughter’s pink walls along with Blue who I believe are now passé! The so called ‘hip’ music in my car arouses peals of laughter from the modern Ms who brands it “old”!! I guess by that definition, my dire straits, eagles, bread & bhooley bisrey geet qualify for antiquity!!

*Adam Smith would be proud of the rigid ‘division of labor’ executed in Shiksha’s social life. Once upon a time I had visions of being a back-slapping, bum chum of my daughter’s pals, & us cool dudes hanging out together. But parents are parents, and teenagers, teenagers, and the twain shall never meet. Yeah sure, the mom has her uses – I mean whose gonna order the pizzas, keep the pepsi flowing & answer phone calls? We had to wear decent clothes as well, but on that one, I rebelled & now Shiksha and co have disgustedly come to terms with my shabby kaftans and unkept hair!! If I have to work like a maid, what’s the harm in looking like one??!! So there we are on our respective islands and not complaining!

*If someone can track fashion preferences of the 'young & the restless & bottle it, it will sell like hot cakes!

*I hope Papa dearest is reading this because this is reinforcement of the simple truth that he has to work very hard to pay to keep his darling diva well turned out. The weird part is that it’s all very convoluted – we’ve bought dozens of killer heeled affairs each of which cost more than what I’ve spent on shoes in my considerable lifetime, but she wont be seen dead in any of them, so converse to the rescue. Ditto with jeans & jackets – we buy ‘em like they’re going outta style, but what u buy, u don’t wear, that’s the fashion mantra!

*So farewell to the chilled out mom who mall hops and shops with her ‘batty beti’, & welcome the party pooper whose presence is to contain & curb fashion enthusiasm!! My role is restricted to posing unreasonable queries which put pressure on our parivaar’s Paris Hilton like – ‘will u actually wear this?’ or ‘do u need it?”. Am cordially disliked, and dismissed as the conventional, cold, unfeeling parent who has no finer emotions. Being a trendy, popular mommy or avoiding bankruptcy?? The latter option, pretty please!!

*Confession time – Ashok as a parent scores better than me – hez more refined and actually believes that there’s more to life than academics, unlike the crass Indian in me which hollers for perfect scores & the comparison game – how much did everyone else get? Kya karein, control nahin hota!!

*The bonding, the understanding, the friendship … will happen eventually like it did for me. After the travails of parenting and hard core truth hammered into me, thought gratefully of my much maligned parents, and today, we empathise, & are at peace with each other.

*Patience is the name of the game. There is light at the end of the tunnel. As Scarlett said, ‘tomorrow’s another day’ and there will be camaraderie, tolerance & a state of cease fire …. But right here, right now, ‘Mommy dearest’, serenely & calmly remains “Mommy Meanest”!!

rewind worthy!

When you are least expecting it, like a breath of amusing air, suddenly, out of the blues, something happens, or someone does, or says stuff, which amazes & intrigues you, & tickles the imagination. That’s when u wish u could hit the ‘pause’ button, to freeze that moment, rewind, & play, again & again …..

*This dates back to when Ashok & I were working together as sales officers. Sales plummeted, the company folded up, (yours truly & my partner-in-crime heartily contributed to the collapse I suspect!), but we survived to tell this tale … we were a motley bunch of sales reps, mainly guys & a few gals, (who got a lot of attention, less because of who they were, & mainly thanx to the ‘demand supply ratio’!) Then the “Vaa vaa voom” factor came in the form of this ex-beauty queen who joined the office - she oozed sex-appeal, was well endowed, & set the male hearts on fire. Us plain Janes were rudely thrust aside, & to add insult to injury, they even asked us advice on how to ‘pataao’ the beauty queen!

*The early morning rush was on in the office – getting your reports in, confirming appointments, routine correspondence …. All this was happening in a large room where the sales staff was gearing up for the day ahead when …. in walked “Ms Bold & Beautiful”, pouting, & she loudly declared, “Help, I desperately need a screw!” There was pin-drop silence, & only the panting of all the male puppies could be heard! Our gorgeous gal, (did I mention that the Maker, while ‘well-endowing’ her, kinda missed the brain area!), oblivious to the fact that she had caused the room temperature to shoot up, repeated, in case we had missed it the first time, “can someone give me a screw?!”

*The disbelieving, but joyous hush was merely a lull before the storm! The guys hastily gravitated towards her, like bees swarming around a pot of honey! We could see nothing, except a huddle of unruly guys, desperately trying to get to her first! Then the dampener: Ms Vaa Vaa Voom explained that one of the screws of her earrings had fallen off & got lost, & that unfortunately, was the ‘screw’ she was frantically seeking!

*What a laugh we gals had, at the expense of these Romeos, who slunk away sheepishly, with their tails b/w their legs! Always a great memory to chuckle about when I’m feeling low!

*U’ll be surprised to know that Ashok, despite selling cigarettes for a living during his stint at ITC, remained a non-smoker …. I think I know why!

*We were like puppies in training in our first job – That’s when u actually look forward to going to work! Personally, I was like a kid who was play-acting in a grown up world – I loved donning the persona of a seasoned, veteran sales person – the tense target meetings, the huddle with your supervisor, & zooming away from the office, only to re-group with your colleagues, at the nearest coffee shop!

*Among us eager young things was this thirty year old senior, and he was our ‘Guru’ – he taught us all there was to know about the big bad world of sales – the afternoon siestas at home, remembering to crumple your clothes before u got back to the office, to sport the over-worked, weary look, the mid-morning movie shows, tailor made for slackers like us …. fondly remember my induction into this murky land – it was a one way ticket, & strictly ‘no return’!!

*And then …. the veteran revealed he had feet of clay, and how! Hanging out over a cup of coffee, de Guru pulled out a cigarette – when we firmly asked him not to smoke, he reluctantly put it away, & then proceeded to elaborate on a unique theory he had – apparently, according to him, it was not the nicotine which was the culprit. It was the sensation of the cigarette in your mouth, which he claimed, was identical to a baby suckling milk!!

*A stunned & disbelieving silence greeted this declaration! Would like to inform you that there were two females in this group, both who years later are still reeling & tottering! Of course, Aristotle was oblivious to our discomfort & went on to wax eloquently about how while a child, esp the male child was physically weaned away from momma’s milk, mentally he still craved it. Cigarettes, he announced were an answer to this!!

*Needless to say, that day, we all aged & that bridged the gap between us juniors and the “senior’ – a safe distance was maintained & we added ‘deftly avoiding being left alone with him’ to our job description!

*That’s how Ashok remained a non-smoker in ITC!!!

Amma tujhe salaam!

A chance meeting in the lift – we wont dwell too much on that though – my virgin encounter with Latha & Ajit: She suspiciously received my over-the-top-cheery greeting & treated me to a look which made me feel like a bad smell under her nose! Then there was Aji, all elegantly suited & booted, valiantly trying to compensate for his wife’s indifference with some polite chatter
From then, fast forwarding to the present, we have come a long way! I hopefully graduated from a stink to a bearable odor for Latha!! While I am thrilled to count her & Aji as some of our closest friends, another reason that makes this relationship special & life-changing is the fact that it led me to “Amma” – Aji’s mom & Latha’s grandma cum mom-in-law!
No clichés here – I mean only a person like her would make it possible for me to describe an 86 year old as one heck of a cool babe!
Some snapshots of our encounters:
*My fourteen going on forty yr old daughter & Amma animatedly watching “American Idol” – this was one household, that despite the fact that there were no kids her age to interact with, Shiksha willingly visited – I mean, there was “Paati”!!!
*The walls of their elegant house, dotted with spectacular embroidered pictures done so elegantly by this eighty plus super-girl, while yours truly, at half that age, struggles to thread a needle!
*She could give any Public Relations person a run for their money – never failed to connect with a call or a visit. My cynical dad and mom were floored by the fact that she took the trouble to come home & see me in Chennai. She charmed the pants (dhoti actually!) off my father & had him eating out of her hands. Thanx to her, I got some brownie points of approval from daddy dearest, who was impressed by the fact that a nikamma like me had managed to find such a dost!
*In Ashok, she found a doting fan, because Amma knew her music – the mark of greatness – ability to appreciate all genres of music with no blocks or mind barriers.
*I tear up when I recall the last time she came to our place in Abu Dhabi – with child-like enthusiasm, she attacked a bowl of curd rice sprinkled with her favorite – ‘ spicy moru molaga’!
*When I saw Zohra Sehgal in “Cheeni Kum”, she reminded me so much of Amma! She was always egging Latha to work out at the gym & kept abreast of all the possible tv shows!
*I fondly remember bumping into the trio of Amma, Latha & Ajit at the car park of our bldg in Dubai . They would be excitedly trotting off to watch some movie or the other! Amma even once remarked that my outfit (my first patiala salwaar which in retrospect made me look horrendous!) was similar to what Preity Zinta had worn in “Veer Zara”! How on earth did she recognize that I had diligently tried to copy the dress, not realizing that ‘clothes don’t maketh a man’ – in case that’s not a legitimate saying, let me clarify that I just made it up!!
*She like me, had been a fan of Kamalhasan, only to be horrified by his later movies & phoney accent! Together we mourned the loss of the Kamal we loved, & bitched about him the way he is today – apologies to all die-hard Kamal fans!
For me, Amma was the epitome of ‘sugar & spice, & everything nice!’
I refuse to grieve her passing away. Instead I celebrate this woman of substance. I count her as one of life’s blessings. If I can lead half the life she led, it will be a zindagi well spent! Amma Tujhe Salaam!

Kunju Mama & the auto!

Friends you can chose, but relatives, you’re simply stuck with!! As we were, with my “Kunju Mama”!!

In younger & more vulnerable times, I was petrified that society would connect my uncle with me. My sister Chitra & I spent a large chunk of our childhood, trying to solve the mystery of how our refined & dignified mom & our crude Kunju Mama, blossomed from the same branch of the family tree!

My mother is a tortured soul. Poor woman is blessed with a vitriolic sense of humor, which she longs to exercise, by joining her wicked, irreverent off-springs, namely me & my sisters & having a good laugh at some of her brother’s escapades. But her unwavering loyalty to family keeps her in check!

Kunju uncle has a love for cars, which is supported by the fact that he has pots of money to blow up on them. (My practical mother even desperately suggested that if we were kinder in our thoughts & actions to him, we might stand the teeniest chance of inheriting some of that fortune – greedy as we were, the laughs were too precious to sacrifice, even at the prospect of big time moolah!) Whenever my mother came back from visiting her brother, she would proudly talk about his latest automobile acquisition. I kept track of the contessa, santro, Mercedes ….

So after one such customary visit, we were gathered around the dining table attacking idlis & molaha podi. Suddenly we noticed that our otherwise vocal mom was subdued & refused to meet our eyes. Immediately our antennae’s were up. She was no match for our combined curious onslaught & finally blurted out the dark secret which was burning a hole in her system …..

“Kunju has bought an auto”, she vomited out! We gasped in sheer horror. Once she got started, it was like a dam that had burst … she was in a state of shock! At first, there was pin drop silence & then the room reverberated with our guffaws & our stomachs ached with all the laughing! Apparently all the cars had been abandoned & now Kunju & his wife drove around in an auto – yes people, a regular, Chennai, black & yellow ugly three-wheeled affair!! Chitra’s logical mind needed to put things in their correct slots, so she demanded to know the seating arrangements … Amma shame-facedly & with a glint of pure amusement, offered that Kunju was in the driver’s seat & his wife sat behind!! We visualized this for some delicious moments ... this time, my mother joined in the hysterical merriment!!

Confession time: I didn’t tell Ashok about this – I mean if I were in his place, listening to these family anecdotes, I would worry about lunacy in the genes!!

But this came to haunt me & how! When we were in Chennai, I ran a playschool in my parents place. Everyday Ashok would drop me there, hang around for a while & then leave for work.

So one morning, after dropping me & spending some time with the school kids, Ashok went back to his car, parked in my parent’s driveway, to go to his office. The driver was looking hassled & told Ashok that the the car could not be taken out because an auto was blocking the path. Ashok was really annoyed as he was getting late & curtly told him to tell the auto driver to take his vehicle out of the way. The driver with a bemused & baffled air replied in Tamizh, that along with the ‘amma’ who had got out of the auto, the auto driver himself had boldly gone into my parent’s house!!!

Ashok’s outraged & shocked face was a treat for sore eyes!! He spluttered & couldn’t believe the nerve of this auto driver. Husband dearest belligerently went up to warn my mom. My Kunju mama & his wife were lolling there, having a cuppa. Ashok politely nodded to them & turned to his mother-in-law & poured out his story about the audacity of this unknown, but daring auto driver!!

There was a stunned silence in the room, before my mother gently acquainted Ashok with the facts behind the identity of the auto driver. By now, my poor husband was a broken man! Casting an accusing look at me, he staggered out of the room!!

I am pleased to report that our marriage weathered the “auto” storm!! Today Ashok is a seasoned player in this bizarre family drama! Since then, many other dark, khaandani secrets have seen the light of day – my mother in a weak moment confessed that she had actually been a passenger in her brother’s auto. A fact which we’ll blackmail her with for the rest of her life!!

We did wonder as to how my aunt had agreed to the auto way of life as a passenger, until some good investigation on Chitra’s part revealed a disturbing side to her personality …. This is a mini short story …..

Now what do all of us do when we put on weight? Hit the gym. Burn calories on the treadmill. Go for brisk walks. Or make peace with the flab like I have done! Like my kind (?) friend Nalini says, ‘theres more of you to love!' But Kunju-ki-better-half was not going to tread the regular routes. So here comes the part I love – she spent a week converting some of that fortune I talked about, into one rupee coins. Once she had a bag full of clinking coins, her work-out started. She would spend the whole morning bending & lining all the edges of the floors of her house with the coins. Once that was accomplished, she then set about picking ‘em up!!! Everyday!!

My sisters and I are a hardened, cynical lot & it takes a lot to impress us – we were filled with awestruck admiration for this unique exercise routine. We approved – this was a jodi kamaal ki & she proved herself as a worthy passenger of the auto!!

Life comes full circle. From being a skeleton in my cupboard, my Kunju mama is someone I brandish to Ashok with, “mere paas Kunju mama hai”, tumahare paas kya hai?!”

Beti vs Poti!

*I wish I could swap places with Shiksha! If there is re-incarnation, then true filmi ishtyle, I would give my right arm & leg to be reborn ….. as my parent’s grandchild!

*U know how it is growing up in a typically ‘Tam-Brahm’ phamily : No matter what, it’s crucial to catch the sun-rise, & actually watch the newspaper delivery boy expertly fling “The Hindu” through the gate.

*I even have horrifying memories of early morning wails of the milkman screeching ‘Amma, Paal’ – now if u are thinking clinical, clean, no-mess packets of milk, sorry to disappoint …this was the real thing.

*If u followed the noise of that holler, it would lead you to the gate of our ‘home sweet home’, & the ugliest sight ever would greet your eyes! Two huge, black, smelly buffaloes plaintively bleating their hearts out. Yeah, yeah, it must have been awful to be tied up to that gate, & anticipate prying eyes watch you, while you’re milked dry, all for greedy consumption by the heartless “Subramanyam’s” (my dad’s & the family name, spelt with a ‘y’ – Y I don’t know!!)

*Hold on, the nightmare continues – my parents were not exactly the trusting kind, & were convinced that the milkman’s dying ambition in life was to add water to the milk! So it was war – the Subramanyams vs de ‘Paal-kaaran’!! To add insult to injury, we kids were appointed ‘inspectors’ (I mean adding water to milk, do u understand?!) & were strategically stationed next to the scene of potential crime. I would rate this as the most humiliating experience of my life – the ‘doodh-waala’ would sullenly upturn the bucket as proof of no ‘golmaal’. We had to stand there nonchalantly, & ignore him, as he muttered malovently about cruel unfeeling folks like us, who after all these years, still harbored mistrust & suspicion in our non-existent-hearts.

*Just to put things in perspective, all this was happening at the unearthly hour of 5.30 am. We must have committed some heinous crimes in our past janam, that’s why God planned this punishment for us! U also had the early morning population, who spent their mornings constructively, with some healthy walking! Neighbors & friends, who valiantly attempted to suppress their amusement when they saw the “buffalo-club” – we had lost their respect for ever, & officially joined the ‘laughing stock society’!! This was like baptism by fire – after this, to handle anything in life was child’s play!

*So the mystery of my size has been solved – pure, unadulterated, wholesome buffalo milk, & instead of indulging in invigorating walks in the morning, merely providing entertainment for the fortunate ‘walkers’!!

*Trauma & drama, first thing in the morning!! Then began the patient wait for the newspaper. The man of the house, my dad got first shot at it. There was no question of sharing sections of the paper – u just had to bide your time – there’s a hierarchy here – dad, visiting relatives, elder sisters ….. and then u – whew!! All that, just to catch the city entertainment section, to check out movies running in town. C’mon, there had to be a valid reason for bunking classes in college!

*So u got up, spent quality time with the ‘bhains/errumai/buffaloes’, stood in queue for “The Hindu”, showered …. and then?? Remember there was no 24x7 cable TV, no computers, ipods …. So we just aimlessly hung around, but the early morning getting up thing, there was no messing with that!

*Cut to the present when I go back to the same household, to the same parents, only this time there is Shiksha! Boy, what a difference! Those uncompromising folks, who would ruthlessly yank you outta bed in case u dared to sleep beyond the Subramanyam wake up shout, they gently tiptoe into the room, lovingly draw the blinds, tearfully watch the little angel sleeping, & actually instruct me not to talk so loudly in case, God forbid, she wakes up.

*Huh?!!! What the hell did I miss??? The mean person in me was hoping that my daughter would get the ‘early morning treatment’, & be disciplined for life. But obviously I hadn’t reckoned for the fact, that strict, uncompromising parents make the most doting & adoring grandparents.

*The same ‘Maata-shri & Pita-shri’, who ranted on about how getting up late was the sign of a wasted & slothful human being, now spout dialogues about how growing children need their sleep, since they are so active (sure, watching TV, movies, net surfing, chatting, mall hopping … must be exhausting stuff!!) through out the day.

*Oh to be their ‘poti/peti’!! Times they are a changing, so I dared to sneak in some sleep time in the morning – it was my holiday too. Apparently, that milk of human kindness was reserved for Shiksha only. It dried up when it came to me – they were aghast at the fact that I dared to sleep & did not participate in the ‘first coffee of the morning with the virgin decoction & pardon the crudeness, but ‘straight from the udder milk’ ritual!! I was accosted with ‘why so late, are u ok’ (not being well was the only excuse for not getting up at dawn!), to being accused of unhealthy habits like sitting up late, & watching TV. “Early to bed, early to rise” – yep, no compromises there, where I was unconcerned. After all, I was merely the daughter of the household!

*Now I feel less guilty about the fact that my daughter cordially dislikes me, & dreams of a life where dirty words like “mom” don’t exist! I will still make it to heaven, since my penance will be in the form of spoiling my grand-children, & being sinfully nice to them. Grand-parent-ing I look forward to! I will atone for my sins as a mother, by being the most fabulous grandmother ever!

Fear thy neighbor!

Rewind to the ‘born again house-wife’ …. Bet u’re expecting the clichéd ‘they lived happily ever after’!

So did I …what I didn’t reckon for was the mother-in-law of modern times, ‘the Neighbor’!!!

There I was, doing the dance of freedom in the solitude of my sanctum-sanctorum, gleefully contemplating all the delightful options which lay ahead of me, when the ringing of the door bell rudely interrupted my party for one! I gingerly opened the door to find my neighbor, sari clad, in contrast to my disgraceful and shabby house-coat, grimly surveying the unpleasant scene, which included yours truly, in front of her uncompromising eyes … loud music, newspaper strewn all over, and the floor was still shuddering from the shock of having this tub of lard (me again, I mean, I am the heroine if u please!!) unceremoniously boogying all over it’s prettily mosaic-ed surface!!! The aroma of my coffee battled with the smell of sambhar, curry … in other words, a four course meal. Help, this paragon of virtue had apparently finished cooking lunch, showering, donning a sari, done her Pooja, and there I was in disgraceful contrast, the slob whose day had not even begun!!

She briskly walked in and started folding up the paper. She expressed her disapproval of the unholy music I was vulgarly listening to and informed that at my age (huh?!), and at this hour, devotional music would be more suitable!! By now I was all humiliated and shriveled up. While there was nothing I could do about my appearance (I had new found appreciation for Ashok who has seen the worst as far as I am concerned and is still so gung-ho about life!), I resorted to one of the seven deadly sins and lied about wrapping up my cooking! Quick thinking, which got me a glimmer of a smile!

She departed with the ominous warning that she would be back the next day with some religious tapes. I longingly thought of my unfeeling and cold boss who hadn’t given a dam about anything, except sales targets being achieved! How I missed her indifference!!!

Like a pricked balloon I crawled back to my now cold coffee, the primly folded newspaper, & tried to revive the party, when my bruised ego was rudely shaken up by the firm ringing of the door-bell – AGAIN!!!!

A young thing tripped in with baby and bag in tow – apparently news about me quitting the big bad working world had spread like wildfire! She gaily announced that since I loved kids, from now on, I would get to spend quality time (?) with hers … didn’t she realize that the rotten human being that I was, I had many times prayed for a fast-forward button to propel my kid to the school going stage and me to ‘aazaadi’??!!

I had barely digested this when with the milk of human kindness dripping from her, neighbor 2 informed me that she would wait while I got ready, and that we could start a routine of going vegetable shopping regularly!!!

What about all those frozen veggies lying lovingly in my freezer – wouldn’t their feelings be hurt?!

I was finally enlightened – u either trot of to an office or any work place, or u cook fresh healthy food for your family all day long!!! Apparently, the world had no place for alien gals like me who just wanna have fun and fritter their lives away!! I almost thought a space-ship would descend and whisk me away to ‘planet waste ’!!

Hang modesty!! Till this very hour, I was pretty pleased with the way I had turned out. In fact probably the reason I was so huge was that it was worth having many of me!! But now, like Dickens “Uriah Heep”, I was truly humbled!!

I was no match for her and dutifully did the rounds of the vegetable shops and came back with bags bursting with veggies, some whose names I didn’t know, but didn’t have the guts to reveal my ignorance.

Back home, I sat in a stupor totally stripped of all hope and energy. Enter neighbor 3 – I distraughtly asked her if she’d like a cup of coffee to which she primly answered that she didn’t partake of such poisons!! Meaning I was a ‘vish-kanya’!!! I tried to lighten my mood by imagining myself in a ‘nagin’ attire, a la Sridevi or Reena Roy!! Not for long, because if I had hoped third time lucky, definitely not!! When I made small talk about hitting the gym, now that I had the time, she looked contemptuously at me, and pompously told me to sack my house-boy (who was my true Knight in shining armor, sorry Ashok!!) and get down to doing my own house-work as a fitness routine!!

So there I was at the end of the day, broken, shattered, and the exhaustion, more than I would have experienced after the toughest of days at work!!

Happy to report that from that state of total despair, emerged a plan to deal with this menace:

*Learnt to remove my foot-wear & sneak in and outta the house so that I couldn’t be accosted by my friendly (?) neighbor! Ditto in the house – dirty, cold feet were a small price to pay for the bliss of privacy and debauchery!!

*Invested in ear-phones – to secretly indulge in my vulgar unrefined music!!

*My desperation was like a beacon light which guided me to a soul-sister, Neha. We bonded in our indignation and outrage at the expectations of our nosey neighbors, over many cups of over-sweetened, milky tea!! Shades of oppressed daughters-in-law, who group together to discuss their mothers-in-law!

*Your neighbor – the new age mother-in-law!!

*Moral with a twist - 'fear thy neighbour'!!