F.A.I.T.H

It was time, she double checked the file , checked her purse, grabbed her mask , the fire truck toy and locked the door to leave , but something came upon her, she felt the need to get inside, look at herself in the mirror, and give a big cry. She was done looking away from herself, she was done not facing herself and her emotions, she was done hiding them behind a brave face and a fake smile. While she was at it, time ticked away and she realized that she had to be there for  her little boy while they injected him with sedative and took him away to the Operation theatre.

That day had finally come, the day she dreaded , the day when her 3 yr old little boy was being laid on a table to be operated for a issue he has since birth. It was a big day, a very crucial day and she dint know what to feel. She did not know what to think. Exactly 2-3 hours from that very moment, whatever the surgeon tells her could make or break her. But she did not want to think about it. She had to make sure her expressions did not give away the fear and pain she was battling , for she had to keep everyone happy, that was what was expected of her. She said a silent prayer, hugged her boy and kissed his forehead, whispered in his ears '' you are my favorite" . He looked at her with the kindest of smiles and just before she could get enough of it, it was time to step away, hand him over to those strangers in scrubs.

She stood by the big doors of operation theatre, peeping into the small class window every now and then in anxiety. Her limbs shaky , her hands trembling and her lips mummering all the prayers she could possibly recollect. Will she ever be able to say a prayer ever again if something went wrong? Will her relationship with god be the same? A lot was riding on this one surgery, a lot more than she had imagined.

The silence of the place was unnerving and the dim lights were becoming more difficult to cope with. Right when she decided to sit down after standing and shivering for 2.5 hours straight , the door opens and doctor steps out. She tries to move towards the doctor, but cant seem to be able to walk, she tried harder, but without a success. She closed her eyes, shed a tear and took a deep breathe. And managed to walk towards the doctor one step at a time. The three precious words '' It went well'' echoed the room , calming her nerves and giving an instant blood rush, a very severe headache and she folded her hands in front of him in 'namaste'' and said 'thank god, thank you doctor''. Doctor smiled and walked away.

She left a thank you note to everyone who has been trying to reach out to her, sending prayers and wishes. She sat down on a chair , gulped some water out of a bottle she never realized she was carrying all this while. She let out a sigh of relief and closed her eyes and drifted off into a deep sleep, the kind she hadn't experienced since a long time now.

Dream project

If you are like me,you would find solace in
 a nice dinner ,all your worries melt away in front of a plate full of good food and  the best way to bribe you is to take you on a culinary experience .If you are like me,you loooove food.You don't eat to live,you live to eat and you don't feel a wee bit of quilt while spending huge amount of money on good food.
I live a frugal life ,I think twice before investing on anything,be it a eye pencil or gadget,but I don't think twice before ordering myself an lavish luch at a new eatout,because I have my priorities straight,and that stays to be good food.
It has been my biggest dream every to be food journalist.I cannot admire that profession more.,I am not saying that I don't enjoy designing garments for retail,but it doesn't satisfying me like smelling,feeling and eating good food does.Life has not given me many opportunity to explore my dream.Like I call myself,I am a 'trader of dreams!'.I have always put everybody else's happiness before my dreams,but now,I feel like I have done enough,I owe myself little  consideration.
I am contemplating a food blog.I love writing and I loooove food,and  I sure as hell will enjoy mixing the both.What are your views about this?Do you think this will work out!?. Would love to hear from you.So,please pour in your ideas and suggestions.

TRADER OF DREAMS!

It was that time in my life again,and I felt it in my gut again.I knew this was coming my way,but was just not ready to accept that the day is finally here.Today is the day I will have to make choices,tough, thorough and practical choices,there is no compulsion,but alas I am me,I have always been a trader.of my dreams!.
They say dreams are your biggest assets,and I have realized it very early in life that they carry great value when you trade them.I have traded them from.time to time for different things,mainly happiness of your dear one's.It is a very easy ordeal.All you need to do is take a deep breath and let it go.Loving yourself a little less will also help.But the most important step is to not feel anything and and not to feel sorry for yourself,because when you own nothing more precious than dreams,life becomes simple.

                            QUEEN

She was named Rani.Her parents meant it.They wanted her to rule the world,or at least her own world.She sweats,she frowns and she runs around trying to get things done,to make ends meet,to provide for her family and to catch up with the world.She goes to the bed grateful for whatever she has but she never felt proud of herself.She always felt she was not doing enough.She was not enviously pretty,she was not a trophy wife or a trophy mother.She was not the best at her job.Nobody had ever told her that she was awesome.She folds clothes for a living.As rich , glamourous and successful women storm into the store and pick the most expensive dress there is without a second thought,she gapes in awe.She wishes to be able to pick the best brand of rice for her family like that,she wishes to pick a toy for her kid like that and she wishes to pick a life for her family like that.That must feel good,she thinks to herself.Minutes later,she is back to the ground,trying to save 25 rupees by walking home an extra 2km,so that she can pick a life she wants for herself.While she feeds her family a good night's meal and puts her baby to sleep,she closes her eyes feeling grateful.Do you know this girl!?..the girl who has the courage to dream big while reality weighs her shoulder down every single day!?..if you come across one such girl,do not hesitate to tell her she is a HERO!

GLORIOUS MESS!

One thing i get asked a lot off late is 'how are you doing!'.I interpret that question in two ways depending on who is asking. People who know me well up close and personal mean 'Man!how are you holding up,hope you haven't lost it yet' and people who don't know me well enough mean 'ah! what can be different,she must be sleep deprived and fat,the usual postpartum thing!.In both of these situations, i think for a while before answering,because of two reasons:a) I don't have enough vocabulary to explain and b) because i don't want to be taken as an insane insensitive mother.I find myself at quiet a dilemma in such times and hence i gave it some thought.

Five months postpartum, i would like to describe myself as a 'Glorious Mess'. Glorious because i feel the sheer glory of having gone through the wonderful journey of pregnancy and delivery and having given life to such a wonderful bundle of love.The love i feel cannot be put in words.It is overwhelming and highly gratifying.Mess because that is the first word that i utter every time i look at myself in a mirror.Frankly,i cringe every time i look at myself.I have dark circles from not having slept more than 2 hours at a stretch since the day he was born.I have receding hairline from the heavy hair fall that doesn't let me keep the hair open at least till they dry after a hair wash.I have belly that felt like rubber for months after delivery and looks like cracked earth in drought with the zillion stretchmarks.I have arms that resemble bottle guard hanging off my body and i have flab of fat everywhere.I don't recognise this person in the mirror anymore.

The poser and selfie freak that i was, I run and hide at the longest sight of a camera focusing in my direction.I used to find my calm in adding dresses in latest trend to the 'bucket' and it has been months since i even opened a shopping app.All i check online now is deals on pumping machines,nibblers,activity centres and diapers.I do not look forward to a manicure pedicure or even threading because i know i will not feel pampered in a salon seat while all i did was praying to make it back home in time for his next feeding.Do you know a better word to describe this situation.I like to call it 'mess' or rather a 'Glorious Mess'

THE 'C' WORD

The word was out.'It was a boy!' and more importantly, it was a cesarean!.Sighs in different tones and pitches echoed from different corners of the room. People could not wait to pounce at the topic. Aunties started out with the different versions of dreadful stories of inhumanity that has spread like a virus among the gynaecologists of late.The 'C-section mania'.

The thing that i most feared had happened.They had managed to operate me!.I mean, though i silently wished for the same somewhere in my 8.5 hours of labor, I never thought they would hear my thoughts!. But how could I have helped it anyway!.Maybe i should have protested.I should have prepared my husband to never sign the surgery consent come what may.Maybe i should have eloped from the operation theatre but i couldn't, because for one moment,all that mattered to me was the safety of that little life inside me.I could hear his heartbeat dropping.They sounded like the week sobs of a newborn somehow.How could i ignore that!. 

I came out of the operation theatre numb,physically because of the anesthesia ,and mentally because somewhere inside , i felt that i had let the world down,or rather i had let myself down.I battled the disbelief that this had actually happened to me for hours in the ICU.I repeated the story to every sorry face that visited me. And again spend hours feeling sorry for myself. 

Suddenly it started feeling silly!. I am an educated 20th century female! Aint i supposed to be above such 'small thoughts' .I just gave birth to a healthy baby and instead of rejoicing it , i was stuck with a c section guilt!.What made me so miserable! I pondered and the answer was that it was a social stigma i had attached myself to. The society has made c section look like a doctor or a hospital's personal interest, and completely disregard the fact that sometimes it is the only way out!.

                                        

                                    PREFACE-NEW LIFE                                  

Motherood made me realise few very important things.These realisations were enlightening enough for me to start wondering why birthing and childcare is taken so lightly and why nobody talks about it.I feel like a different person since the day i delivered my beautiful baby boy.I simply have to record this experience.This roller coaster ride  might be solely my experience, but if you relate to even a quarter of my lament and joy, you have a friend in me.

Disclaimer : The posts that follow might be heavy on drama,emotions and insanity,but  be rest assured they will be true to each word and straight from heart.They do not mean to judge , belittle or praise anybody else's parenting decisions or feelings , they are my story , the story of my experiences with the power to give life.

Every time i make a guest rub their hand with hand sanitiser before they hold the baby, my mother cringes and i am served a dose of ' do not act like you are the only person to give birth on earth' theory right after the guests leave. I agree i am not the only one to give birth and raise a child,after all, i delivered my baby in the city that records the highest number of deliveries per year in the world.So, it was definitely not a big deal.But nothing can make me surrender my weapons as long as i am a mother.Can you?

I have never been a cleanliness freak,more so, i feel more at home in a messy environment.But i am a changed person now.Remember?.I am wearing my 'anxious,obsessed and ever doubting momma' suit,ready to fight any demon that dare come near my baby, be it a viral infection or a mosquito.This change baffled me.Made me salute every less fortunate mother who had to give birth to their little ones in unfortunate environments and situations.I still find it difficult to wrap my head around how much a single experience can change the way you look at life.Below are my realisations,rather life changing,to me atleast:

- God exists

The whole process of development of a fully functional body and mind from a single cell after careful merger of sperm and ovum is nothing short of miracle.Doctors and science enthusiasts call the triggers leading to the development of each organ and process 'signals' but who orchestrated the signals in the first place.Who decided the time frame for each development and made sure fool proof transactions between a body and a body inside the body.I am still awestruck to think that a human being was actually under construction inside my tummy while i battled presentations and hopped from meetings to meetings for nine months.

- Human body is a miracle

Need i say more! your heart is formed outside your body initially and then the body forms around it to engulf it and protect it and then it continues working a whole lifetime.The baby triggers the release a hormone to tell the mother's body to push it out into the world once it is completely grown.

 - Humans are born useless-cannot survive first few years without extensive support and care

They say 'It takes a village to raise a kid'.Being baby must be really difficult.I feel for him! He has no choice but to remain in any weird/uncomfortable position that we leave him in because he has no control over his hands, legs ,head or even finger till he is 3-6 months old unlike the babies of cow who start running around few hours after they are born.They are self sufficient!

- Humans are emotionally fragile.Motherhood makes you emotionally useless.

My boss at work(not my favourite person on earth) once suggested i attend corporate workshop on emotional quotient.It was her subtle way of telling me that i was emotionally week.I retaliated. I felt humiliated and I refused to agree or attend any workshop of any sort like a stubborn kid.But i am a grown person now and I would happily agree with her today...I have grown rather emotionally 'useless'.I have absolutely no control my smiler and sobs,i feel for everything and anything.This is a very vulnerable state to be in. They say it is just a phase. Fingers crossed!