"The first year of marriage is the most beautiful phase, enjoy it to the fullest", I heard this from so many couples and it's strangely true in so many ways.
Thinking of my brief courtship, marriage and the first year that flew by, was indeed a overly romantic, Bollywood movie in my life. The love flutters, countless sms and calls, eagerly waiting for those meetings and the D date which seemed so near yet so far- were then replaced by cuddles and hugs, late night movies and weekend getaways, simply lazing in bed talking over something random and then leisurely going to one of our favourite coastal cuisine restaurants, and not to forget our common love for cashew fudge@Corner house. And how can I forget those countless photos where we looked deep into each other's eyes and people exclaimed " You are kidding me, this cannot be an arranged marriage, you guys look so deeply in love", and I smiled coyly. The first year just passed by like a dream.
Then came the day when we found out the most joyful news that would alter our life forever, yes a new identity- we would be Mommy and Daddy now and we would always be in awe of you- the symbol of our love-our child. We pictured the countless photos, birthday parties and all those baby moments which we had only heard of so far. The pink or blue guessing game continued to bewitch our minds and finally the day arrived. The day she was born - the day we became Mommy and Daddy. And then life changed in a fraction of a second , in ways we had never fathomed and we were just swayed by the further chain of events.
To start with I had my mom who lived with us and helped me take care of the little one as I was totally inexperienced and needed full fledged support. I slept with the baby and mom in a different bedroom as the erratic sleeping patterns of the baby meant hardly sleeping a wink. Hubby slept in our room - and though he claimed it felt so empty and he really din't like the thought of the entire bed to himself , I sighed and retorted" O but you can sleep peacefully blissfully unaware of what a long night it is for me". This started irking me- Why is it that my life has undergone such a drastic change- starting with the enormity of delivering a child and the physical trauma it caused to my body while he just waited without even a shred of pain and he was the one who first laid eyes upon her. He was the one who slept the whole night peacefully, read his newspaper, went to office, watched tv. Life has not changed for him at all. Hang on a second- we were parents right- "WE" when did this become just about me taking all the pain - sleepless nights, feeding troubles, puffy eyes, body aches, gloomy mood, and he just casually swung by and planted a kiss on the baby's cheek, held her in his arms and had the cheek to tell me"you got to take it easy, babies not sleeping at night is very common , this will go on for 3 months, if you get depressed and stressed, it won't work. This instigated my anger further- if it's so bloody normal why don't u do it yourself- soothe the infant wailing her heart out who wakes up at 1.30 every night when sleep pangs are all over you, try satiating the baby's appetite when every muscle in your body screams of pain". Those days our relation had become one of mere strangers, we only spoke of things pertaining to household matters like bills and groceries I did not have energy for anything else. His contention was that he was as new as me at this- and given I had my mom here who knew how to take care of the baby, he did not want to interfere and that too in something he hardly knew about.
In due course as the baby settled into a decently regular sleeping pattern, things between us were marginally better. We had our own view pints when it came to what was best for the child influenced strongly by our own thoughts, the way we were brought up which was bound to be different for any 2 people who were not siblings, this led to unnecessary squabbles which further fuelled the already mounting tensions.
One fine day as I mulled over this and put the blame on him a thousand time for being the one at fault I thought- But this cannot be completely true. Is the kind of environment I would want to bring up my child in? With parents bickering over everything, no sign of love. Definitely not. We both would want the best for the person we were so passionately in love with and of course there were going to be differences. Our upbringing , culture, beliefs would influence these decisions so there was bound to be difference of opinion. We had to be matured enough to sort it out in a amicable way. We had entered into this sacred bond fully aware that there would be good and bad phases, we had accepted each other with our faults and follies and embraced this bond in its entirety. These were the testing times- if we fell apart now, there would indeed be no meaning in what we always held as sacrosanct. We would probably never get back those good old days where it was just" hum tum", things will get better as the baby grows but those carefree days are a thing of the past as we had a responsibility now- someone we had brought into this world cos we wanted to be parents- Angel never asked for it. It was our duty to give her the best of everything and the most important was a harmonious family atmosphere where Mumma , Papa and Baby bear could live happily ever after. For that, Mumma and Papa bear needed to be happy with each other. It need not be a giant leap- but baby steps like a call to check if you have your lunch? How was your day today? A simple smile and a welcome hug, time would always be a constraint but a few minutes of phone conversation or a what's app message would act as a antidote.
There is no magic potion. The success of any relation is not just about those gushy romantic Facebook profile pics that scream to the world" I love u " or gifting that Tiffany ring which the girl proudly flashes to everyone's envy, it is about staying one in those tearing times, embracing one with their shortcomings and imperfections, never loosing hope and rekindling love.This quote would aptly summarize what love is all about " A true relationship is 2 unperfect people refusing to give up on each other"
So, I have found the ingredients for my love potion, how about yours?
A visit to the shopping mall and all kinds of people dressed in varied shades and type of clothes is what catches the eye. While the guys longingly ogle at pretty girls and women check out each other from top to down- right from how has she done her hair to her toe nail and the shade of nail paint, one cannot fail to notice some middle aged aunties all dressed up in a pair of jeans or a skirt, some of them look around awkwardly, adjust their dress and try to look comfortable but it’s apparent that they are not. How could they possibly be? For around them are so many eyes scanning them, some are whispering to others and guffawing. It is quite evident that people find it amusing when a fat lady wears jeans. She's your regular woman who has those tires around her waist and some generous dollops of flesh on her thighs. She is the one always trying to hide these so called flaws by wearing an ill fitting salwar for hasn't she heard time and again from everyone- “you are FAT, you
A short story. "We couldn't save him we are extremely sorry ma'am your son is no more". An eerie silence crept all over. I was so shocked that I stood rooted to the spot. No tears, no sobs, no loud cries just a blank stare. Staring into oblivion. It was just this morning that I kissed Rehan good morning, gave him a bear hug which is our morning ritual, whispered in his ears " Mumma loves you baby", lovingly packed his sandwiches and stuffed the chocolate bars and chips into his bag. He was all excited about his school picnic. They we're headed to a resort which had a lake and my boy loved water. What an irony.It's this water which made him pay the price of his life. Yes it took him away from me forever. When a child loses his parents, he is called an orphan. A wife who loses a husband is called a widow, a husband who loses his wife is referred to as s widower. But what do you call a parent who has lost his child. Is there a word? I guess not.
You usually pick up a book to read because you heard a good word about it from a reader friend, or you chanced upon a good review or simply browsing for a book, you read the back cover and were intrigued to know more. My reasons for picking up this book is something you surely can’t beat! A chance encounter with the author Bavna Rai in a networking event right at my workplace made me rush home and download it on my kindle for weekend reading. Now being a blogger and aspiring writer, nothing gives you more joy than meeting someone who shares the same passion. Unfortunately I have never met a single soul who has remotely anything to do with blogging or writing in my workplace though I have worked for some of the biggest names in the Investment Banking World. Imagine how euphoric I was to receive an invitation for a networking event with 2 senior women leaders and I see that one of them is passionate about writing and has authored a book. Listening to Bhavna’s candid thoughts