Mothers , I say !

“Look at that girl smoking like a chimney outside our house,” the mother exclaimed.

I went out to check out the chimney scenario and saw a girl gloriously smoking away. Was I surprised  or what? I ‘ve seen women smoking in pubs and even at work places in Chennai. But never one in  a  residential area in broad daylight. I don’t advocate smoking , but was thrilled  to find that women finally have decided to climb out of the closet and smoke openly.Yeah, I cheered for her for all the wrong reasons 😉

I wondered if my mother was upset that the girl was smoking outside our house or that she was smoking in the first place.

For some strange reason  I came back in and smiled at my mother.

“So you saw her?  See how audacious girls are these days!”

“Ummm..” I made a non-committal sound. I couldn’t obviously tell her how pleased I was at having spotted a youngish salwar sporting girl puffing her lungs away at 4 PM.

“If you are supporting her, does it mean you smoke too? “the mother shot back when I didn’t respond with the mandatory cussing of the chimney in question.

What Can I say.. Mothers !

I am dreading the day my daughter will roll her eyes and say the same thing to me 🙂

The neem leaf story..

Another one of those priceless Mother-isms…
Mom: Your grandma says you shouldn’t be going out for walks at night. 
Me: Ummm..Why?
Mom :You know there are bad things hovering the air that’ll upset you..
Me: Like what? ghosts? Bad spirits? What kind of strange stories you come up with!
The mother  looks to the father for moral support (and mostly for someone to endorse her view). The chap
and the father are trying their best not to get drawn into this conversation.
Mom : Ok, be like that and not listen to me as usual . Even grandma  and xyz aunt says you need to tuck a
small leaf of neem into your hair before you head out after dark. Neem wards off bad things, you know.
You won’t get startled if you see bad things on the road.
Me: Bad things like what ? A man smoking and another one peeing against the tree. Ma, neem is just an
antiseptic. I don’t think it can keep away bad things , even if there are bad things in the air!
Mom :  Oh, you stupid girl. Always arguing and asking questions..We oldies say things from experience.
By now the father and chap are rolling their eyes (a tad inconspicuously because they don’t want to be caught
out) and I am trying my best to control my laughter.
Mom :  Of course , it is true – that’s why even grandma and xyz aunt also said the same thing.
By now I can’t control it any longer and burst out laughing , followed by strange guffaw-type sounds. Yeah,
the menfolk decided that  a good laugh outweighed the merits of showing solidarity and all.
Mom: Ok, all of you  laugh at me! But it is true.
The best course of action, I decide at this point , is to say ok to her. 
Me : Fine, I’ll do it.
The mother relaxes finally and a look that can only be described as “Finally she sees sense!” settles on her
So if you are out in the streets of Chennai and see a girl with a neem leaf tucked into her hair, you know who
that is 🙂 Yeah, mothers are priceless !

How you doin?

Hola, peeepals. New year parties all over ? Hangovers finally banished? Apppy New year to all..The chap and I had the most “happening” New Year celebrations in the history of our lives. We graduated to “that middle aged couple that hangs out at boring apartment parties where kids dance to Chammak Challo and Gasolina , with their parent’s chests bursting out with pride and screaming- that’s my kid on  the stage!”. Yeah, we cheered random kids that won painting competitions and suchlike and wondered aloud if this is what life reduces us all to…finally. Holly,molly.. before we know, we’ll be attending dance rehearsals and fraternizing with other middle aged people.And discussing schools and educational system in India and nappy rashes and nipple creams and pooping behavior of babies.Gosh! And how did we bring in the New year, you ask .. Well, we promptly fell asleep by 11:00pm , after deciding that a New year was no big deal.Comes every year, right? Gosh! again. Does this what impending parent-hood reduces people to ?
Anyway, the lil one’s been creating enough drama for the past 3-4 days, that one hasn’t really had the time to dwell on the implications of becoming “that embarrassing middle-aged couple” or blog hop (sooooryyy!).It looked like the baby was in a hurry to get out and join us for the Pongal and Republic day celebrations, until we coaxed it into remaining indoors for a few more months.Well, I am on medication to prevent pre-term labour and after a few days of insane contractions and cramping things are back to normal.Or so we hope. I am now on a “strict rest” regimen for the next one week, and needless to say its doing wonders to the already grouchy self. How much can one sleep in a day, I ask? So much to do before baby comes and I am forced to watch the speed of my walk! Bah! Maybe,its time i get back to the manuscript that has been languishing in my laptop for the last 2 years. I have managed to write a “colossal” 12,000 words in the last 2 years and have edited it almost 25 times.I realise that can’t claim a “writer’s block” ad-infinitum.Time to bid adieu to the lazy me and start writing again. I also realised that it is insane to keep waiting for my first two books to come out and then start writing.75,000 words to go..Here I come, biatch!

Along with all this drama, I got to learn that I might not be diabetic after all and that the glucose tolerance test results that implicated me as a shameful sugar-maniac was a sham all along. My doc is now urging me to eat like a normal person, because I have just gained a paltry 4 kilos in the last 8 months.So,I am hogging  full -throttle to make sure that the baby gets more fat and is not some skinny little thing like what the mom used to be once upon a time.The worst part of this development is that I am  now nauseated at the thought of sweets. After I had stuffed my face with some sweet mom had made I felt so sick that I swore that I would never eat  anything sweet ever in my life. Just a week ago I was craving Kesari and rava ladoo and donuts and pastries and whatnot.Now, all i want is my salads and healthy stuff. Crazy, I say!
Books-wise I am saddled with the most boring book in the history of mankind ( The nanny returns) and am wondering why some books become such big hits despite being so difficult to finish ,whereas other good ones sink into oblivion.I am officially off chick-lits as of now and can’t stand another book with a pink cover.I did finish reading a good book a few days back (Committed by Elizabeth Gilbert).The feminist in me had a field day reading this book on marriage.A full-fledged post coming up soon on my thoughts on the interesting things the book broaches.
Umm.. what else? Did i mention that I am totally in love with Dexter (from the sitcom and not the cartoon). I find the serial fascinating. A little too morbid to be watching at this juncture, but heck how can one not find a serial killer-blood splatter analyst fascinating ? And just like so many other things in my life, I discovered the sitcom so late (after 6 seasons getting over). I am done with two seasons and am hooked big time. Its a different matter that I felt horrendously embarassed when my mother walked in when Dexter’s victim was parading around naked (butt show and all).To my mother’s credit,she just said ” Oi, look at him all nanga-panga”.Needless to say I have never been this proud of my mother before. Sometimes, parents are forced to do grow up too 😉 What say?
Rambling over..Over and Out. Have a super week ahead, peepals 😉


There are just things one doesn’t tell /show their parents, even if one is on the verge of becoming a model for some hair dye company , or worse still for a dental clinic that is advertising their leak-proof dentures.I have some more time until the dentures become a necessity, though, but am still eligible for the hair dye commercial auditions (My tresses are perfect for the before-after ads). After several decades of carefully withholding classified information from my folks and perfecting the art, I am sharing all the know-how(FREE FREE FREE) to  all the lov-hley peepals who read this blog . Yes,I am nice like that vonly. 
Rule no1 :  NEVER ever disclose the price of anything you shop for. Even if you earn  your own manicure-pedicure money. As a thumb rule, always tell them only 1/4 th of the price of the thing. Most parents don’t get the idea of inflation.Actually this rule works extremely well husbands also.  Extra points if you hide/tear the bill in question,because you can then fib to your heart’s content . My dad still thinks that a plate of idly costs 3 bucks. Everytime I tell him it doesn’t, he almost convinces me that the restaurant fellows are capitalist pigs and that I over paid . No, actually most restaurant fellows are capitalist pigs, considering how they sell a fifteen-rupee MRP mineral water for forty bucks. Twenty bucks for letting the water experience the privilege of  sitting in their expensive fridge,huh? 
It is a different issue that when someone told me that their Diwali “new” dress cost 2000 bucks, I almost fainted. “Back in my days…”,I started. Yes…definite signs of aunty-hood. Guilty as charged.
Rule no2: NEVER NEVER ever tell your mother about your haircut, especially if you’ve shed more than 1 inch .
My mother can smell the shortening of my hair  even in her sleep. She’ll then go non-stop how I let my hair go to the dogs by abusing it as much as I can.She’ll shed a few tears and call up my grandma and complain about how “Children these days don’t listen to their mothers” perfectly ignoring the fact that I am an almost a senior citizen myself . Grandma will then ask me pointed questions about whether I use shikakai anymore and curse all the shampoo manufacturers in the world for corrupting her “little” grand-daughter. Oh, please hide the conditioner bottle while you are at it. The main cause of all horrible things happening in the world( like poverty, lack of world peace, global warming etc) is shampoo conditioner. Oh,you didn’t know?
And any salon-related activity necessitating me spending more than ten bucks (eyebrow threading is ok, because that is within the budget) makes my mother hyperventilate. NEVER NEVER NEVER ever mention tattoos, pedicures,manicures,facials,spa treatmenst, belly-piercings etc because they are all EVIL(also causing poverty, lack of world peace, global warming etc). The only time mom really didn’t have an issue with me doing something “unnatural” to my body was for my “getting-hitched” occasion. Too bad I can’t get married every month because I want her to shed tears of happiness when I come home from the salon slightly presentable. Actually, that’s an interesting thought , which if packaged well has immense potential 🙂
Rule no3 : NEVER NEVER NEVER tell your mother (or woman above the age of fifty) that the dal  that you are serving her for lunch when she visits you is three days old.
Always bring out the dal container from the fridge before she comes home and place it on the gas stove (yeah , like you’ve just made it and  let it scream FRESH FRESH FRESH at her from all the new coriander leaves you’ve added just now). Because when you get married , you become a superwoman overnight (just like her) and are expected to  make fresh dal everyday and be of ultimate service to the husband and the man of the house.
Rule no 4: NEVER NEVER NEVER NEVER let your mom inspect your clothes cupboard , pantry and contents of the fridge. 
Though I persevere and try to be as organized as possible , I never really am totally in the clear. If the bedroom cupboards are clean, the kitchen cupboards invariably are in a state of disarray that will make most people mildly giddy. And do hide those vodka bottles before she ferrets them out and looks at you like you are some raving alcoholic. It doesn’t matter if you try to mumble something about the husband being the drunkard ,because to most mothers their son-in-laws are incorruptible , perfect and always correct. Yeah, life’s like that only.
Rule no 5: NEVER NEVER NEVER NEVER NEVER give your parents an indication that you do grown-up things. Like see naughty movies (mainly) where some amount of intimacy between the hero and heroine is warranted. Hand-holding is acceptable, smooching is Aiyoo, Chee thoo.
Because parents are used to seeing only flowers bumping into each other on screen when there is  development of any remotely objectionable form of affection between the pair (thanks to tamil movies- especially starring the pink-lipsticked Ramarajan). Always change the channel or say “Chee thoo.. the movies these days.What rubbish they show!” and you’ll see them visibly relaxing. They’ll also shed a few tears of joy that their child has not been corrupted by the vagaries of life. Please also hide any Silk Smitha/Lady Shakila cds that you have managed to hoard (even if it is for the sake of your overall education/development).

Okay, so hope you’ll use my FREE FREE FREE tips and live happily ever after.

Tata .Bye-bye. Have a nice weekend.