Byced Views

T's observations

2012-01-27T10:06:00.001-08:00

T looked down at her dress this morning and said "My dress doesn't have a button, it has got deleted"Later in the loo she said, "No poo poo coming out. I think it is stuck in a jam"

..

2012-01-26T20:53:00.001-08:00

A big fun Indian wedding

2012-01-26T11:25:00.000-08:00

From this slightly biased sister's point of view, my brother's wedding was one of the most fun weddings I have been to. It certainly lived up to the stereotypical Indian wedding image of horses, loud music, lots of colour, flowers, glamour, food, food and more food - and I enjoyed every bit of it!

The wedding party span over an entire week - yes seven full days. The ceremonies started in Jodphur, from my paternal grandparents home; then moved to Delhi; came back to Jodhpur; took a short break in Osian and ended in Allahabad!

My parents were clearly very excited about this wedding as they spent a year planning, in great detail, for every small ceremony - trust me, a traditional Indian wedding, especially one in Rajasthan has many of them.

The wedding started off by 'inviting and bringing' home Gajanan ji (Lord Ganesha) from a particular temple in Jodphur. Lord Ganesha is a big part of the Hindu household, He is specially remembered at the beginning - when one buys a new house, beginning of a festival or as in our case, at the beginning of a wedding. Tarana, living with her spiritually disabled parents, hasn't ever heard much about Lord Ganesha or any other Gods for that matter. So the trip to the temple, a slight novelty for her, was great fun specially the sweet prasaad that the priest gave her at the end. We had to buy a bag full of it as soon as we left the temple as she kept asking the priest for more!

My mom had planned every detail of this wedding. She even had a beautiful silver tray decorated with candles, kum kum (red powder) and sweets that she used to welcome everyone who came home during the week of the wedding. She had bought beautiful red wrist bands that I tied on the hands of women as part of the 'welcoming'.

The first ceremony, like most others, was more symbolic than anything else. It symbolised the process of preparing grains and spices to be used to cook for all the guests. In the olden days, before catering and super markets, this preparation included grinding grains using stones. Therefore the centre of attention for this first ceremony is the humble chakki or stone grinding mill.

The next ceremony, which consumed the rest of the day, was the haldi (turmeric) ceremony.

The flowers and music brought the house alive. There were three different types of musicians, they had a kind of rhythm going - one would start when the other ended - though it did get a bit much at times.

Thanks to friends, in the middle of this extremely busy morning we managed a few lovely family photographs

We were particularly worried about how Tarana would react to the wedding, specially the large crowds that are such a central part of the Indian wedding. You see, T is just not a people person, not grown ups and certainly not men. But how can a girl not love a wedding eh? T fell in love with the wedding from the moment the florist stepped into the house.

K got to climb the horse twice - once for a ceremony in Jodhpur (called Nikasi) and then for the actual wedding (baarat) in Delhi.

And no matter how busy we were, we had to find some time to make cocktails for friends and family - even if it was only 11 in the morning!

No Indian wedding is complete without some dancing - the sisters danced, the mom danced, the aunties danced, the bride and groom danced.....

The wedding can't be all fun for the to-be-weds. The not-so-nice, well lets be honest, the extremely boring and rather exhausting part of an Indian wedding involves the bride and groom standing on a stage and meeting the guests (in this case there were over 500) for a few seconds each. The process - shake hands with the guest, smile to the camera, take the gift and repeat with the next guest! Here is proof of those cheesy moments. The bride and groom were subjected to the stage not just on the wedding day but during a reception in Jodphur and for another reception in Allahabad!

The actual wedding was beautiful - a huge fire in the centre, some chanting, a starry night, close friends and family (yes, that's the strange part of an Indian wedding - most people leave before the actual ceremony, only some family members and very close friends stay on!)

And finally, as someone once said, after another "Triumph of hope over experience", the two walk away to a few more days of celebrations and finally some quality time together in the Maldives.

Desert safari

2011-11-30T21:39:00.001-08:00

I have had the most fun week of my life. My brother’s wedding spanned seven days of celebrations! Seriously - seven full days of dressing up, eating, drinking, and wedding ceremonies. It was one big and long party. Each day started early and ended in the early hours and so each morning the hangover of the previous day lingered even as the celebration of the new day took off. I am going to take a while to sort through the thousands of photographs from the wedding. So a blog on that a little later.

To unwind from the exhaustion of the wedding and get to know the new family better we drove to a place called Osian for a night. Sadly, Robin had to get back to work and missed out on caravan ride to Osian. My parents, the newlyweds (Karan and Nishika), Nishika's parents, the kids and I drove out in the evening when the sun was still rather bright in the sun city of Jodhpur. We drove along the long straight desert highway with sand blowing lightly around us and camels munching on thorny desert shrubs. The drive was beautiful for the first 20 minutes but quickly the scenery became monotonous so I was relieved to hear that our destination was only an hour away.

The entrance to the India Safari Club, Osian was magnificent. A large fort gate in the middle of sand dunes. We got out of our cars and waited on large stone benches covered with yellow and saffron cushions for our came ride to the Safari club. Yes, all of us including 3 month old Raahi got onto camels! The evening at the resort was beautiful - a sunset in the desert followed by folk musicians singing songs of ancient wars and everlasting love.We all enjoyed our night in the tents Tarana was particularly fascinated by the tented toilets. Raahi showed his excitement by turning onto his stomach for the first time while we were in Osian. Osian is also famous for a 6000 year old, beautifully architectured temple that we visited on our way back to Jodhpur.We will have to go back to the Osian safari club once the kids are bigger to enjoy their two hour camel ride on the sand dunes and into the surrounding villages. Check out http://www.indiasafariclub.com.

Utterly butterly home

2011-10-30T04:23:00.000-07:00

After a week of eating excessively in India I decided it was time to go healthy. Barely 20 days to go before my brother's wedding and I need to do something about my post pregnancy weight. Well, I will have to think of another excuse soon as 'post pregnancy' can't be used much longer

I shared my healthy eating ambition with my mother's cook, a rather large and affectionate women in her forties. After a week of eating steamed and roasted vegetables I walked up to her to tell her that I hadn't eaten steamed vegetables that tasted this good before. Her response, "I always top them up with a spoonfull of butter. After all, you should always enjoy the food you are eating especially when that's what your baby gets to taste!"

My mom has cooked for a number of my friends and they always tell me how yummy her food is. Though I use exactly the same recipes, I can never replicate her cooking. That's basically because she is a great cook but also partly because I can never get myself to use the amount of butter and cream she does! In this land of butter there is little hope of losing weight!

Travelling with two

2011-10-22T20:39:00.000-07:00

I remember a time when travelling, even the thought of it, filled me with excitement. Reading through travel books I would mark all the things I wanted to do - often an overambitious list. Travelling to places that weren't new to me was also always exciting as it meant meeting old friends, rediscovering old haunts and looking for new ones.Unfortunately I have lost some of the enthusiasm around travelling after the birth of my second baby. I have never been capable of travelling light and my recent flight to India made me realise I have got to change my packing habits if I have to fly with two! I will blame the weather, obviously, for some of my packing woes - I am travelling to India at a time when I need to pack for summer and winter. To add to that, the most exciting part of this years trip to India is my brothers wedding - but just imagine what a big fat Indian wedding means in terms of packing! And of course there are half a dozen favourite books, her baby Kevin (not a living thing, but we won't tell her just yet), a few toys and her trunki that T refuses to travel without. A single buggy has now been replaced with a rather bulky double one. Raahi doesn't have a long list of travel musts yet but he makes his presence felt by demanding for milk at the most inappropriate time! With the second child, the romance around breast feeding is dying fast.The challenges started way before we tried to get all our boxes into the boot of the car. Tarana, who needs to be prepared for any change that affects her usual life, had spent the last two weeks saying that she doesn't want to go to India. These statements were often accompanied by melodrama so I asked her favourite nursery teacher to help out. After a couple of days of trying to tell the class adventurous stories about travel, Miss M finally gave me a call to say that there is little she can do to prepare T for the trip as any mention of India would get tears in T's eyes! So along with all the baggage I was tugging an unhappy kid on what was going to be a 24 hour journey from door to door! But like a few surprising moments in life, this one turned out to be easier than I ever imagined. The transit at Doha at 1am with too many handbags, two sleeping kids and no buggy or trolly was a challenge but besides that, people were helpful and most importantly, T who has been in India for a week now is absolutely loving it! I am probably going to jinx it, but she hasn't shown any sings of missing her home, friends or routine in Nairobi! I guess there is something very special about holidays with adoring grandparents.

Tarana tales

2011-10-03T02:16:00.000-07:00

Animal loos - On our trip to the Nakuru National Park a few weekends ago, Tarana saw poo along the path that we were driving on. With a stern expression and in a rather commanding tone she asked "whose poo is this?" and we responded, "the animals". "Those naughty animals" she continued to say in an authoritative tone, "I will tell them to go to the toilet!" We couldn't help but smile while our little T continued to look disapprovingly at the poo!

Garanda - Our house has a garage for two cars at the front and a veranda looking into a garden at the back. For a long time T called them both 'the garage'. Like always, she has her reasons - the two of them look rather similar. The garage doesn't have shutters. It is open on one side with walls on three other sides. The veranda is a very similar structure but smaller. A couple of days ago, I decided to correct her and told her that where she was sitting was a veranda and where the cars are parked is a garage. She asked me why and I tried a couple of explanations none of which were logical enough for her. Finally she looked at me in that 'if you insist' kind of way and said, "fine, I will call it a garanda then". So a garanda it is!

Raahil

2011-09-26T14:22:00.000-07:00

A few pictures of our little 'traveller' (that's what Raahil means). Obviously these aren't exclusively his pictures as Tarana still commands her space on and off the camera.

T has been wondering what it was going to be like to share her life with a little brother. After all, she has had a sister (an imaginary friend) that she pretends exists when she wants and sends her off to places like Tanzania, India and London when she doesn't want her around!

We weren't sure what to expect either, but her first reaction at the hospital was that of a 'proud big sister' constantly wanting to cuddle the new baby. There certainly was some anxiety though, as she refused to leave the hospital without me.

So the new family of four checked into the hospital for a night.

There were a few tantrums in the first couple of weeks and T got very clingy to me. But she soon learnt the balance (well, kind off) and has been a great big sister so far.

She sings to him when he cries (and Raahi doesn't know what to do but listen in stunned silence to his screeching, not so melodious sister). She sticks her finger into his mouth every time he is hungry and insists that he will get milk from it!

We are all enjoying the new experience, the two kids - as individuals fighting for their own identiy and space; and as siblings, learning to love and enjoy each other

We also manged a weekend away, Raahi's first - after all he had to learn quickly to be patient on car drives with a family that makes at least four stops during a two hour drive (a caffeine stop for the dad, a minimum of two pee stops for the sister, and one stop for the mom to shop for crap crafts or farm vegetables from the highway kiosks)

Besides the pit stops, the weekend away was great. Tarana founds her swings,

lots of water at the beautiful Naivasha lake and

some delicious chocolate cake that brought smiles on both her and her appa's face.

Nanosa enjoyed cuddle time with little Raahi

Besides enjoying the children, lake Naivasha, and all the birds and animals in Nakuru; I have to say the highlight for me was watching a tree climbing lion enjoying the jungle breeze at sunset.

Around the world

2011-07-29T07:32:00.000-07:00

It has been really busy over the last month and I haven't been able to write about a lot of things that I would have liked to. I had planned a blog about Tarana's experimentation with new words, such as truth, that she doesn't really comprehend. She recently said 'I bumped my head at night and the truth came out'! I have been meaning to put up pictures from a great weekend holiday we had at a farm where 2 year old J milked the cows, chased the donkeys and rode horses while T stayed in her comfort zone and fed ducks and turkeys, rode the donkey cart and lazed in a plunge pool.

What has finally forced me out of my laziness to write was a meeting last week with an absolutely inspirational woman in her 20's. We got a message from an old colleague that R and I worked with in Delhi saying that her daughter, T, was in Nairobi for a bit. So we got in touch with T and had her over for dinner.

T has been travelling around the world since May last year and has 10 more months of travelling left - a few more countries in Africa, then the Middle East, South America and North America. She basically felt that she wanted to do something interesting and decided to travel the world. It's not just the vibrant sights, flavours and cultures that she is out to experience - she also has a mission.

In every city, town or village that she visits she gets in touch with civil society groups or self help movements that are committed to working with the less privileged. She spends time understanding their work and the person or people behind these groups and movements, and is capturing the 100 most inspiring stories on her website - http://100heroesproject.com/

What energised me the most after meeting her was how extremely positive she was about her experiences and human generosity in general. Of course travelling for 8 months means that she has been robbed of all her belongings in a particular city and violently attacked in another. However, these aren't the stories one hears easily from T. Instead what she loves talking about is the woman who nursed her back to health in Indonesia when she was extremely unwell, the family of a Congolese she met in South Africa that turned up at the airport with a signboard to receive her, how people went out of their way to help when she lost her passport and money, how she learnt to drink vodka the Polish way with couple she just met, who then invited her home for a traditional meal.

If only more youngsters would travel the world, lose their blinkers, discover faith in humanity or just enjoy life away from the rat race.

The best part of baking a cake...

2011-06-23T23:40:00.000-07:00

at least for Tarana, is licking the mix!

Everyday a father's day

2011-06-21T03:19:00.000-07:00

Tarana climbed into our bed on Sunday morning, and like most weekends, all that her parents wanted was a few more hours to lie in and all she wanted was to start her day! As usual she stood on the pillows to reach the switch on the wall above our bed and turned it on. "It's not night anymore, wake up" she says and I grogilly replied, "but it is fathers day today - that means it's Appa's day!". "No", replied T, "it's my day"! That was the begining and end of father's day in the Koshy household.

Robin doesn't have much reason to sulk as T is such an appa's girl that from morning to night there are enough moments where she celebrates her father. Even when she wakes up because of a bad dream in the middle of the night, all she wants is Appa.

One of Robin's favorite everyday moments is coming back home in the evenings. No matter where in the house she is, T almost always hears the sound of his car and runs outside to give him a hug. Her hugs are accompanied by some adorable statements like 'love you appa...how are you appa' and other slightly bizare ones like 'how was the traffic'?! My two and a half year old doesn't really understand the concept of traffic yet but living in Nairobi she hears about it so much that she has to use it in conversation every now and then.

My favourite appa moment is to see T insisting on tying the towel around her waist after a shower just like her appa ties it.

She does have a few strange observations of her Appa. "Appa has a pee pee in his panty but elephants have a pee pee on their face"! she observes. I can't imagine elephants being too happy to know what their nose is being compared to but the Appa is rather proud about the reverse comparison!

Domestic help

2011-06-05T02:04:00.000-07:00

Life in Nairobi is great for a number of reasons and one of them is the fact that we have two wonderful women helping us with our everyday life - Violet, T's nanny and Mercy, our cook. It's like T has four and not two parents. In fact, Violet is the oldest of us four and is undoubtedly the most experienced hand at child rearing. No one can manage T better during her tantrums than Violet.

I have had cleaning ladies all my life including my four and a half years in London and I would say it is all about 'comparative advantage'. Well, fundamentally I am just not good at it - have never been. Growing up, my brother would tidy up his room as soon as we would hear my mother's command from the kitchen while I would struggle for a bit, and finally just hand him my share of a chocolate and he would do it for me!

There are a number of opinions on domestic workers and the likes of Arundati Roy have taken a very strong stand against it. I do understand where some of the concerns are coming from given the horror stories about how domestic workers are often treated - underpaid, overworked, outside formal safety nets and sometimes physically abused. I don't think that the way to address these issues is to shun domestic workers but to employ them at respectable terms and treat them with compassion. A number of us feel strongly about this and other such social issues and do our best at a personal level to address them. However, it is also comforting to know that all the civil society organisations out there are working constantly to address such issues at a more structural level- ensuring laws are enacted and enforced to protect rights of workers, facilitating the formation of unions to strengthen the power of workers to negotiate with employers and establishing government backed safety nets. Not all of us can be part of such collective movements, but isn't just acknowledging them a good start?

T's favorite game at the moment is doctor-doctor and Violet has been playing T's patient for the last 30 minutes allowing her to check her ears, put bandage's on her arm etc and given me the time to write this blog. I can't imagine life without Violet and Mercy!

Chocolates and furniture

2011-06-03T01:57:00.000-07:00

Wouldn’t you agree that life is not worth living without a few ‘legal’ addictions? I do believe that I am closer to a few people and places in this world just because of the addictions we share. Life with Robin is more fun for the two that we have in common – chocolates and furniture. We debate so many things in life, one of the reasons why naming our children is such a task. But on chocolates and furniture, we couldn’t agree more.

Chocolates have got to be dark – the more cocoa the better. Green and Blacks 80% is on top of the list along with the Lint Dark Orange extreme. This is a slightly dangerous addiction to share as one of us is always ready to nudge the other for ‘just one more piece’. Maybe some disagreement here would have been better! What is interesting is just how similar our tastes in chocolate are – there has almost never been a time when one of us likes a particular bar or box and the other doesn’t. One of our slightly embarrassing favourites are the Danish Anthon Berg dark chocolate liqueurs that one of our Danish friends insists is eaten only by grandmothers during dark Christmas evenings in Denmark!

An addiction to furniture is a little more complicated and the limited space in our London flat kept us as much in control as it could. The space in our Kenya house is, let’s just say, the excuse we needed. Kenya is not really Italy when it comes to furniture but it has its gems. Marc van Rampelberg’s (http://rampeldesign.com/1-29-the-story.html) elegant curvy creations from beautifully carved pieces of wood dovetailed or seamlessly joined up are stuff of legends. However, he remains an elusive artist to reach and the legends about the prices of his pieces have also made us a bit wary. The one that we visit the most is called Woodcharm – a store that has existed for years on a popular street in Nairobi’s city centre. It’s run by a father and his son. Well, more the father since the son is also a private sector consultant. The father has a classical leaning while the son a modern one. The store at any given time has at least 85% classical designs influenced by a number of different cultures around the world – though predominantly European. Now that we have baby number two coming into our lives soon and with T still climbing into our bed once in a while we decided it was time to invest in a larger sleeping space. Obviously Woodcharm is where we went and they have delivered a fantastic modern bed.

Jet setting mums

2011-05-22T00:44:00.000-07:00

Being a working mum is exhausting enough without the travel requirements that come with this globalised world. I just got back home after a seven day trip and as on most trips, this time too I wondered what other mums go through.

I have felt less guilty about travel in the first two years of T's life than I have in the last four months. This is probably not the most maternal confession ever made, but I did truly enjoy the space I got every time I travelled. Just walking into a hotel room at the end of the day - no messy dinner time and mid night cries to deal with.

So what has changed? Tarana of course. She can now strongly articulate what she wants and doesn't want. What till six months ago couldn't really be called a 'conversation' between mother and daughter on skype now certainly can. If we don't cut the call in time we have to manage Tarana's tears and questions about why she can't be with me just that moment. The emotional conversations can make what once felt like a luxurious hotel room seem a bit lonely and far away.

Emotions apart, Tarana is only two and a half so this 32 year old mom can surely bribe her daughter's tears away (another honest non maternal confession). So how do I do it? With presents, of course. I realise that it is not best practice to get her used to presents every time I travel but honestly that is one of my favourite childhood memories! Dad would go away on long sailing trips and I would miss him immensely (we didn't even have cell phones, forget web cam and skype). At the end of almost every such trip he got home late at night (after our bedtime, might not have been that late on adult clocks). It had something to do with ships docking in etc, anyway, even when we tried to stay up we almost always fell asleep waiting. The next morning would be worth every moment he kept us waiting. He would beautifully arrange all our presents around our bed, there would always be loads of them, and sit at the edge sipping his morning tea waiting for us to open our eyes. We would spend the day elated - with endless hugs and kisses, and experiencing everything new we had got. Tarana is exactly like that on my first day back!

The emotions around motherhood aren't that straightforward, at least for me. I did obviously miss Tarana during the week that I was away. But at the end of it all, as I sat on a huge comfortable sofa in a coffee bar at the airport watching the flights fly in and out, sipping a cold creamy mocha and reading 'The Undercover Economist' (which is a great read, by the way - the second edition has just been printed), I felt so at peace. Those 40 minutes of 'me time' felt extremely precious as I knew that I was flying back to my adorable, inquisitive and exhausting daughter in whose company reading is just not the same.

Thirty two

2011-05-09T05:29:00.000-07:00

It’s lovely to wake up to loads of birthday wishes specially Tarana singing happy birthday to herself. She loves presents and cake so refuses to accept that a ‘birthday’ should belong to anyone but her!

I am not really affected by the age element of a birthday anymore. There is something about becoming a mother that instantly changes life – forces on a little responsibility. Also with it comes the fact that the older your children get the older you get! I turned 30 in the same year that Tarana was born – it was good in a way as it took the ‘terrifying element’ out of that birthday. I had already been through the bitter, sweet, exhausting and exhilarating first six months of being a mother. Turning 30 couldn’t be a bigger bag of emotions, could it?

Growing older or younger – birthdays are just so special because of the wonderful people around. The first phone call, as always, was from Dad and Mom. Robin and I then flipped through a lovely coffee-table book on Kenya that he got me – looking through the places we have already explored and the ones we need to go to. He has been treating me to heavenly spa massages this pregnancy and I’ve got one more of them for this week!

Easter weekend

2011-04-27T06:32:00.000-07:00

Tarana, all ready for her holiday

We were very excited about seeing Mt. Kenya

and watching the matchstick turn in opposite directions

on either sides of the equator

But T couldn't really see the point of all the fussing

She did love the waterfall

but preferred to look at it from the slide.

While we enjoyed long meals

and lazy afternoons,

Tarna explored the countryside

and collected flowers in her hat!

We had to find her a swing everywhere we went.

Most exciting for T, was the river that flowed through our resort.

And most frustrating for the grown-ups wasthat none of us could remember how to make paperboats for her. We spent much of the day trying to rack our childhood recollections of making paperboats without any success; and our phones were too low on battery to call on naanu or google for help!

Nigerian elections

2011-04-18T03:07:00.000-07:00

If I had known earlier that the Nigerian elections would get delayed to such an extent, I would have certainly spent a day or two more in Abuja . The four days that I spent there weren't enough to accommodate anything more than work.

On the last day a colleague did take me for a quick drive around the city and then for a lovely Nigerian meal at her house. Abuja is one of the very few capital cities that have been built from scratch just about 30 years ago. Even from the brief late evening drive it was easy to note that this was a well planned city with broad tree lined roads and modern architecture. I do have to say that one of the things I like the most about cities is the history and culture one sees while walking the streets, which I guess is difficult to build into a new capital city.

Since I was there till a day before the original date for the election, I did enjoy being a part of a number of heated election debates. There was a little fear of violence, but most were hoping that the country had learnt a lesson from the last election. From what the news is now reporting, it does indeed look like one of the fairest Nigerian elections in a while with a huge voter turnout.

Most debates were also around the two strongest candidates - Goodluck (what a name eh?), the incumbent and Buhari, an ex-military ruler who lost the last two general elections. Goodluck is popular both nationally and internationally. Buhari too has strong supporters specially in the north. From what I heard, it seems like Buhari feels strongly that he lost the last two elections to rigging and that if the same happens this time he will be angry enough to stand by his supporters even if they took up arms.

What might make the results challenging is the fact that for a candidate to win in Nigeria, he or she needs to get at least 25% votes in two-thirds of Nigeria's 36 states along with a majority (more than 50%) votes overall. If one was to get a clear majority and another the 25% in two-thirds of the states, it might result in an interesting situation.

The news at the moment seems to state that Goodluck is winning by a clear majority - it's going to be really interesting to watch the results unfold.

A bit more on each of the four main presidential candidates - http://www.telegraph.co.uk/news/worldnews/africaandindianocean/nigeria/8457735/Nigeria-elections-top-four-candidates.html

Abuja

2011-03-28T10:42:00.001-07:00

Everyone who travels to Nigeria seems to have a different view of it. Nigerians of course love their country though disagree on which is a better city, Abuja or Lagos. Lagos often wins for being a more fun and energetic place. In cyber space I can't help but think about Nigeria as anything but the scam capital of the world. In the real world however, I don't have such a strong opinion of it. Let's see what I make of it at the end of my week in Abuja. My first impression - ah, this city can be hot! After almost a year in Nairobi, I am beginning to forget about extreme temperatures. It is just too easy to get used to the 24 degrees that Nairobi always seems to be at. All I have seen so far is the road between the airport and my hotel, and airport roads are always slightly disillusioning. This one too was a magnificent four lane double carriageway being extended to eight or ten lanes. Beautiful, picture perfect trees lined two ends of the road and tall Ashoka trees (that's what they are called in India) stood along the road separation. What's the point of Ashoka trees though? They don't provide shade, give fruits or look pretty. Near most crossroads, people sat at the side of the road selling watermelons and pineapples. A few of the women were wearing Nigerian dresses and headgear, and looked beautiful.

London break

2011-03-21T07:58:00.000-07:00

The best advice I can give pregnant women is to go on a holiday in their fourth month, once the nausea and tiredness of the first three months subside. This is, I think, the easiest way to be able to enjoy the rest of the pregnancy.

We did just this by going to London for ten days! It was the perfect post three month break I could ask for with lots of quality time with friends. Tarana got back in touch with some of her favorite people including M chechi, punu aunty.

Kesh aka and Sachi

Though sometimes I felt that she was more excited about getting on the train to meet her favorite people than anything else. She got to play tourist and loved watching the boats sail along the Thames

Sark is what she now calls all big fish

The perfect end to our holiday was a fun wedding!

Presents

2011-02-28T02:11:00.001-08:00

Morning sickness just takes months away from one's life and that is exactly what I have been going through since end of December! I ended up travelling to London on work the first week that I could keep my head out of the toilet. The trip is nothing much to write about but what I want to share is growing Tarana's demands for presents. On my way out of the door I asked Tarana what would she like from London? My very practical daughter said a new potty, dudu (milk) and a bottle of Horlics!

I have to admit that I did ignore her list but it reminded me of Robin and my constant disagreements on presents. Robin believes that presents should be things that one wouldn't usually get oneself. I, on the other hand, am like my daughter – it's all about practical presents I tell him and our disagreement continues. I guess Tarana is going to be the practical present type so I might as well have a husband who's a bit more extravagant!

P sent Tarana a pram for her doll as T is really into babies at the moment. T hasn't left the pram alone for a minute since I got home on Saturday and even took it to Nursery this morning. 'Baby has to go to school' she insisted this morning with a – what's wrong with these silly grown-ups – look on her face!

Baby woof-woof

2011-01-14T04:13:00.000-08:00

One of the highlights, well besides my brothers big fun engagement party, was that Robin's parents got a new puppy while we were in India this December. They have always had Labradors so this one too is a gorgeous one month old beige Labrador puppy.

Tarana talks about animals all the time - woof-woofs, meow-meows, hathis (elephants) etc. She is very enthusiasm about them as long as there isn't a real one in her vicinity. When she sees a real dog or cat she actually gets quite scared and often climbs up into my arms.

It was really good for her to spend a week with baby woof-woof at Robin's parents place. We could all see her comfort level grow with each day. She woke up every morning asking about baby woof-woof but on the first day she climbed up onto the bed the moment he came to lick her. By the last day she was opening the door to let him into her room and patting him gently on the head!

Robin's family is a bit legendary about taking their time to decide on a name. Baby woof-woof, as Tarana calls him, doesn't have a name yet and if Robin's tales are true it should not expect one till it decides to go to school!

According to Robin, he didn't have a formal name (well, everyone called him 'kochimon' - the little one) till the day he went to school. Robin says that on the morning of his first day at school, while his father was looking into a mirror and shaving, he called Robin and told him "you are going to school today so we need to give you a name". He gave him a few options and Robin, after 'Robin Hood' sounded rather romantic to our young Robin who happily agreed to his name!

Christmas tree

2010-12-02T04:13:00.001-08:00

Another week and we would have spent six months in Nairobi. Time has gone by incredibly fast and it's been so much easier to settle in because of all the friends and family visiting us over the past few months.

The world, or at least my view of it, has changed so much since I was young. I moved around from Naval Base to Naval Base all my growing years and though I enjoyed making new friends everywhere I went it also meant that I lost friends every time I moved. There was no email, facebook, picassa or blogs to help us keep in touch. For a couple of months after moving I would exchange letters with some of the 'good friends' but the number of letters exchanged would reduce drastically with time and what remained were vivid memories and photographs.

When leaving London I was confident of not letting that happen anymore and I have to say I am rather proud to have managed to stay in touch with most. Thanks to technology specially the BlackBerry messenger. What I do feel bad about is not keeping the kids in touch as much. Part of the reason is that Tarana doesn't engage too well on skype. But this does mean that Tarana is losing touch with K, M and S – her first young friends in life. I realized how much I missed having the three of them around Tarana when I saw them in London last month and again when we put up the Christmas tree a few days ago.

The three of them have been part of all the Christmas tree decoration evenings over the last three years. For the first time in three years all our decorations were on the top half of the tree. Usually, the highest decoration would be at K's height, the tallest of the three and us adults would re-decorate the tree after the kids had slept – which was after a big energy boost because of excessive ice-cream / desserts, a few arguments between S and the girls on which film to watch and finally three kids sleeping all over each other on a mattress on the floor with the movie still playing on full volume.

I do miss all the adults around the Christmas tree too. It was a full house this week with the two Robins and R's parents but not half as much enthusiasm as my fun girl friends. Putting decorations up on the tree always bring back memories – of my first Christmas with Robin in Delhi, Khan market and D&F; of P and the red star he got us – the only good memory of the worst house in which we spent our first three months in London; of S and P who made all the London Christmas three decorations so much fun.

Taran's first performance

2010-11-26T00:24:00.001-08:00

I seem to say this every week but Tarana IS growing up just too quickly. There was a time when I always got a hug and a kiss when I asked for them but she has already learnt to say 'no, not right now'! She isn't even two. I can see so much of me in Tarana though and that is really not a good thing – she is pretty stubborn. The things she is really stubborn about at the moment are wanting to eat in the kitchen and not at the table (she'll miss her meal but not eat if I sit her at the table), and wanting to brush her own teeth – which involves licking the paste and not cleaning the teeth. We often end up giving in to her demand to eat in the kitchen while Robin has taken on the task of brushing her teeth as I can't bear brushing her teeth while she cries and yells. She is quick to feel hurt – a slightly firm 'no' results in an endless stream of tears. She is also loud and noisy -just like her mother as Robin would say - and regularly makes up silly songs about everyone and everything around the house.

The one difference between T and me seems to be that I absolutely love performances and she seems not too. I enjoy the little anxiety before stepping up on stage and the adrenalin rush that comes the moment one spots the audience. Well, T is not even two and it is probably not fair to judge her on her first performance, which was absolutely adorable (so says the slightly biased mother) but a total disaster! It was at her school - a Christmas concert where each class, starting with T's class of six two-year olds, sang a bunch of songs. As soon as she saw me in the audience she started crying. I had to kneel by her side on stage the entire time but she didnt hum a single word from any song or rhyme. In fact there were moments where she came and stood in front of me, staring me in the eyes with her back to the audience, and kept chanting 'hello mamma!'

Weekend out with family and friends

2010-10-25T03:00:00.001-07:00

My brother, his friends, my cousin, R's cousin and a friend have all been staying with us over the last couple of weeks and it's been so great catching up with everyone, drinking, eating, and exploring the country. Tarana absolutely loves the attention with someone always ready to play with her, read her silly books, take her cycling, and give her a bath. She is not going to be satisfied with just one appa and mamma in the house anymore!

I am so tight on holidays this year that I could only go out with everyone for a weekend trip to Naivasha and Nakuru - which was a wonderful trip but I'm so gutted that I couldn't accompany them to Amboseli and my cousin to Lamu, Mombasa and Tsaavo. I can't wait to discover more of this beautiful country over the next few years.

The beautiful drive - vast plains of the Rift Valley and animals on the highway

Tarana - getting to know friends and family Gorgeous cottages

Long walks

Animals sitting by our cottage Nakuru national park - rhinos, giraffes, flamingos and more

Soweto String Quartet

2010-09-30T04:02:00.000-07:00

The highlight of this weekend was listening to a live performance by the Soweto String Quartet - an amazing group playing magical foot tapping music. The Soweto String Quartet have a really interesting story. 'Soweto' - the name itself is something to write about. Soweto (South Western Township) is a predominantly black township in the city of Johannesburg that gained attention during the Soweto uprising -clashes between black youths and South African Authorities - in the late 70s. The riots grew out of protests against the apartheid regime and formed a turning point in the struggle against apartheid in South Africa.

The concert was at the Impala grounds in Nairobi. Sunshine, picnic blankets, conversations...
Food...
Dancing....and the performance made a perfect evening!

Tribanghi dance troupe

2010-09-22T06:07:00.001-07:00

Pictures from a dance performance by Tribanghi - a South Africa based group. The performers were absolutely superb - a very innovative fusion of classical Indian dance and traditional Zulu dance combined with short plays on issues from South African history.

The music was very creative - part of the dance was accompanied by interesting recorded music while other sections of the performance were complemented by sounds from aluminium cups and plates, sticks, clapping of hands, and tapping of gum-boots!

Tarana discovers chocolate cake

2010-09-01T07:06:00.000-07:00

Mombasa and back

2010-08-26T00:28:00.000-07:00

We spent most of last week in Mombasa - I was travelling there on work and dragged Robin and Tarana along as we all needed a short break. Robin spent three long days buying me a car and I spent all my time in meeting rooms. But our lazy evenings were great - we spent them in the hotel bar drinking Dawa after Dawa and listening to the sound of crashing waves.

Tarana had found paradise - the beach! It had two of her favorite things, sand and water. She couldn't believe that we had kept her away from a beach for so long and spent her first hour on the beach running from the sand to the sea and back. We had taken our nanny along who made the holiday so much easier.

Having had no time to discover Mombasa during the day we decided that the least we could do in a beach town is find some fresh sea food for dinner. Tamarind came highly recommended so that's where we went. It was a spectacular place. The architecture cloned a 14th century coastal fort with tall white walls, majestic arches and spacious verandas. We sat at a table overlooking the jetty where the two Tamarind Dhows were anchored. A live band played in the background while we looked across at the Old Town and enjoyed the sea breeze (and some mosquito bites!). We ate spicy crabs and prawns, and of course drank a few Dawas.

What made this trip an absolute success was the drive back. We stopped at a Forset Lodge (about 5kms off the main road) in Tsavo National Park for lunch. Sitting in the large veranda we absorbed nature - endless expanse of dry shrub forests, brown hills in the distance, a herd of elephants walking by, and a small lake where thousands of buffaloes had come to quench their thirst. A few warthogs marched in and out of sight. One of the people managing the lodge told us that lions had been spotted earlier in the day. It was almost 3 in the afternoon and we were not even half way to Nairobi. Though tempting, we just didn't have the time to go on a safari. We got into our car and had the same thought running through our heads - 'got to come back for the weekend'. On our way back to the highway, our driver said he thought he had spotted a beast. We reversed the car slowly, strained our eyes to look through the dry shrubs and guess what were we looking at? A lioness and her three cubs! A little further away stood a few zebras and one buffalo. We spent the next hour watching the lioness 'train' her cubs on how to hunt. It was magnificent. We had stopped at the Lodge hoping to get some food and see a few elephants. Spotting lions was a great extra.

Tarana Tales

2010-08-12T11:18:00.000-07:00

The first thing Tarana insists on every morning is giving her mamma and appa big hugs and kisses. Slobbery and smelly as they are, its this biased mother's favourite start to the day. When Robin was traveling for a couple of days, Tarana would get out of bed and go looking for him in the bathrooms; and I would get a few extra hugs at the end of her unsuccessful search for Appa.

She has started saying a lot more words and also putting a few short sentences together. At the dinner table she enthusiastically calls out for her f**k (fork) and asks us for our f**ks (forks) - keeping Robin and me absolutely entertained during dinner!

Her list of favourite people that she calls out to before falling a sleep is growing longer. It started of with just 'appa' - clearly a fathers daughter, and grew to include Chechi, Aka and Sachi in our last few months in London. It now includes two 'friends' from the kindergarten here – Erika and Inshara, and occasionally her new Nanny - Violet. It doesn't look like 'mamma' has a chance of creeping onto this list.

She has started to constantly copy Robin and me. After her shower, Tarana demands that her towel is wrapped around her like her appa wraps his after a shower; she insists on wearing my shoes, pretends to drink tea like we do and loves to cook with her toy utensils.

It's great fun reading stories to her now as she remember the characters in each book and has finally got an attention span longer than her dad's which means she actually sits through an entire story and says 'over' when we reach the last page!

Kenya - a new constitution

2010-08-08T10:38:00.000-07:00

Yesterday was a really big day in Kenya, the country was voting for a new constitution. It is not often that we, as citizens get the chance to vote for a constitution – the principal document stating our rights and responsibilities. The constitution committee in Kenya has done a great job with the proposed constitution – its something that most Kenyans should be proud of and I guess this came through clearly in the results where 66% of the people voted in favour of the new constitution. Once implemented, the new constitution will reform the way the country is governed by bringing in regional Governors, creating a senate, overhauling the judiciary and creating a number of women centered reforms. It is also socially more equitable by incorporating rights to housing, sanitation and safe water. Though, how well it is implemented will be the next big question.

Like in any democracy people had taken sides on the constitution – some campaigning passionately for and others against. ActionAid and most of the civil society were for the new constitution given the progressive nature of many of its provisions. However, churches and others had taken the stance against it based on, what a lot of people have been calling ‘not significant’ issues including the right to abortion if the life of the mother is at stake and land distribution which will affect some very wealthy leading families in Kenya. I like the fact that Kenyans speak their mind and voice their opinions - this led to lots of interesting debates before the voting.

Given the fact that Kenyan elections, in late 2007, was followed by violence, the world has been watching this country closely for the last week expecting the two conflicting sides to react a little violently to opposing opinions. I walked on the streets in downtown Nairobi yesterday and can tell you that nothing seemed, even slightly, out of the ordinary. I think every Kenyan is keen to overcome the ghost of the last elections and therefore, there have been wide spread campaigns for peace.

These are really exciting times in Kenya!

Evening in the Ngong Hills

2010-08-01T23:49:00.001-07:00

I didn't really know what to expect when we left Nairobi on Saturday afternoon with a bunch of friends for a party at someone's house in Ngong. We spent over an hour driving through maize farms, small towns with brightly coloured houses, a hotel called 'Blue Hotel' that was painted in bright pink and a sign that read 'grinders and vibrators for hire'. As we were going to someone's house for dinner I didn't think it would be appropriate to carry the camera but given the picturesque surrounding I really missed my camera.

Throughout our drive we could see the Ngong hills – our destination – in front of us. Soon we reached the hills and then drove, first onto them and then around them. The view on the other side of the hills was breathtaking – vast expanse of scrub land spotted with grazing cattle and houses Whistling thorn trees scattered throughout the landscape are arguably the most beautiful trees in this side of the world! These short trees have strong trunks and graceful branches that reach out as if trying to touch the horizon. The tree is full of thick thorns and short stubby leaves. Why are they called whistling thorns? I am told that ants pick on the round base of the thorns and when the wind blows over them they make a whistling sound.

Our destination was even more beautiful than the drive - a gorgeous wooden cottage with a conical roof made of slate and solar panels standing in the middle of large fields. The cattle grazing lazily around the farm, beautiful Ngong hills in the background, a live band playing inside the cottage, soft breeze and smell of delicious barbecued meat all added to the splendid environment we found ourselves in. The person we were visiting is an engineer by profession but enjoys singing and has recorded three CDs! He had his band and a bunch of other artists including musicians at his cottage on Saturday and everyone took turns to sign. I don't have words to describe just how lovely the evening was.

Back in existence

2010-07-22T04:08:00.001-07:00

I was really excited about the fact that I was keeping my job while moving countries. The challenge of a new place, the excitement of meeting new people and discovering cultures is all fine but honestly, 'same old' is a bit underrated. Specially in my life where I haven't ever spent more than four years in one place. For once I had the chance to carry something from the past into the future and was really excited about it.

Only after stepping into Nairobi did I realise just what that meant. It meant deadlines! If you are stuck to work you are stuck to deadlines and my biggest assignment this year was due this monday. Therefore, for our first month in Nairobi I couldn't take my eyes off work. Chicken pox, house hunt, search for T's nursery, four days in Hanoi, a few dinner parties - it's all just been a blur. All I can remember is working for the last four weeks from a desk in the service apartment with the big chandelier hanging just above my head. The chandelier, trust me is big, it has 20 light bulbs and I am convinced it was put there so that I couldn't tell night from day since I've been working 15 hour days for the last week or so. On the brighter side keeping my job at least means escaping the anxiety of looking for something new and interesting. And now that my big deadline is over I can actually take some time off!

So finally I am going to start recording our move to nairobi - the warm people we've met, the crazy one's we've had to deal with, the indian mafia, mexican soaps, masai market, referendum politics and all of the other things that makes this city wonderful.

The Eldoret Route

2010-07-10T04:24:00.000-07:00

Moving countries, it seems to me, is always a combination of good weeks and not so good weeks. The fact that the Pox affected our family tilted our initial experience a bit more towards ‘not so good’ as we started off by visiting the hospitals in a new country – nothing wrong with the hospitals but generally not a great experience anywhere in the world. To be honest, Robin dealt with it like a grown up boy – with moans and groans that I ignored, and little Tarana was very calm, composed and matter of fact about where the calamine needed to be applied as she could feel the spot hurt in an ‘ooooohooo’ way.

I had a window of a couple of days after Robin had recovered and before Tarana got infected where I got out a little for dinners and to generally get to know a few people in the new city. At one of these dinners I was venting my frustration with our UK moving company for constantly pushing the due date for our shipment. In fact, between their London office and the local representative they can’t agree on the latest due date as one says it will be in Nairobi on 29^th July while the other says it will only reach the port by the 29^th!

Someone at the dinner couldn’t understand why we had even bothered with an established mover (the one we are using moves for most expatriates coming to Nairobi) – “You should have used the Somalis. They bring anything you want through Eldoret” he told us. Eldoret is a small town in western Kenya that has an international airport (that a former president built so that he can visit his village). It sounds like Eldoret falls in the blind spot of the Kenyan revenue authorities and goods sneak in and out of the airport duty free. The Somalis are known for their strict code of conduct – they deliver as they promise as long as they are paid their dues. Therefore, if one wants to import something to Kenya without having to deal with shipping companies that don’t stick to schedules and customs hassles in Nairobi, the Eldoret Somali route is the dodgy alternative. Am I ready to try it? Not desperate enough yet, but who knows what dealing with officious and unreliable movers can do to me?

Our first day out in Nairobi

2010-06-27T11:09:00.000-07:00

Tanrana has been home bound ever since we got to Nairobi because of her Appa's chickenpox. As the biased mother I have to say, she has been supurb - keeping herself occupied with the few toyes we carried by air. The one thing she didn't understand, and that did upset her enourmously, was the fact that we wouldn't let her touch Robin. Also that Robin spent most of his time locked up in a room. She sensed that he wasn't well and would sometimes look up at him with wet eyes, lips turned downwards and say Appa in a low sad tone. So today she has been extremely delighted that after 10 long days he has been hugging her again!

There is only so much indoor time that an 18 month old can deal with so we decided to take her somewhere fun today. Since she loves animals we decided on David Seldrick Wildlife Trust - the ophan elephant rearing site and the Girraffe Centre. I have to say, the decision wasn't easy as Nairobi has just so much to offer. But by the end of the day we knew we had made the right choice.

The Wildlife Trust was started in memory of David Sheldrick who pioneered techniches of raising orphaned black rhinos and elephants and reintroducing them back into the wild.

We walked to a 'viewing area' where we saw giant milk bottles standing on the ground. Soon we saw a heard of baby elephants marching towards us. So we thought, but they were running to the bottles for their morning feed!

It was adorable to watch the baby elephants drink milk in bottles. The were embracing their carers like any baby would its mother.

We spent a wonderful morning watching these elephants play like big babies with each other in the red mud, and got to know each ones name and history. Some were as young as five months. Guess what? There was a thirteen month old baby elephant called Tanno (Tarana's pet name). What a wonder first namesake for Tarana!

By the time we got the Giraffe Centre, T was a sleep but we actually got to hand-feed these beautiful animals.

The last month

2010-06-20T14:16:00.001-07:00

I have been really caught up in the move, work and Tarana over the last month. Here is a quick update on the three big events over the last 30 days.

Farewells - I hate goodbyes but there was no escaping them during our last month in London. It started off with a big picnic on a rare sunny Saturday at Kenwood house and went on for a couple of weeks over dinner parties. It hit me most when Mahika asked me 'why are Taran and you leaving in two days?'. Robin and I talk about everyone in London all the time - we miss our warm and wonderful bunch of friends tremendously.

Spain - We spent six of our last ten days in Spain with H, S, J, P, L, R, P and all the kids. It turned out be a perfect surprise for Harry's 40th and the best way to spend quality time with everyone before we left.

Arrival in Nairobi - It's only been five days since we got to Nairobi and to add to the chaos of settling into a new country Robin has come down with Chicken Pox !

A few pics from the last month.

156 and counting

2010-05-19T14:06:00.000-07:00

Our boxes have finally been packed and will soon be on a ship to Nairobi. With the packers doing most of the work I can't claim to have done much other than be amazed about the fact that we have enough crap to fill 156 boxes. And this doesn't include stuff that we forgot to pack in a small cupboard tucked in one corner of our kitchen!

Here are a few pictures from the day our things were packed, including pictures of Tarana and Robin stealing a nap while the boxes were being loaded on the truck.

Pictures from Ethiopia

2010-05-19T13:48:00.000-07:00

Here is a picture of the canon I wrote about - the one built by priests.

The street markets were irresistible - filled with beautiful and colourful things.

Walking around the city, one of the most common sights is people sitting under large umbrellas along the road side and getting their shoes polished. The city of Addis is beautiful - the roads slope up and down and the city is surrounded by beautiful green hills.

I loved watching the local buses drive by. The bus conductor, standing comfortably with half his body outside the moving car, shouts out to potential customers walking along the road.

Ethiopia is known for its coffee ceremony where the coffee is roasted, ground, brewed and served in the presence of everyone.

Ethiopia

2010-05-14T07:12:00.000-07:00

As is the case with most work related travel, I spent the first couple of days between the hotel and our office in Addis, and saw nothing beyond a noisy road that was under construction. On Friday evening, for the first time that week, I ventured beyond the road between the office and hotel. We went to a restaurant called Yod Abyssinia, an aesthetically decorated Ethiopian restaurant with a small stage in the middle of the restaurant where Ethiopian men and women performed continuously hour after hour, showcasing exotic Ethiopian music and shoulder dances.

Ethiopia

is such a historically and culturally rich country that I did not do any justice to it by just spending a few hours in down town Addis Ababa. Addis Ababa (new flower) is not a very old capital city in a country that is considered one of the oldest human inhabited areas of the world (http://news.bbc.co.uk/1/hi/sci/tech/4322687.stm).

Ethiopia

is full of stories and here is the one I heard around how Addis came to be its capital city. It is said that Empress Taytu Betul had a dream about building a house in the hills of Addis and the city was founded in 1886 by her husband, Emperor Menelik II. It was soon found that there wasn’t enough firewood around Addis to sustain a settlement there however a Swedish advisor to the Emperor suggested planting eucalyptus trees in the city and surrounding hills (as eucalyptus trees grow very quickly) and these can still be found all around Addis. I heard conflicting stories about which was the first house that Empress Taytu built in Addis. Some say it is the building that is now ‘Taytu Hotel’ and others say that the original house was expanded by Menelik and is the Imperial Palace, the seat of power in

Ethiopia

even today. I would like to believe that it is the quaint historic Armenian building that is now the Taytu Hotel.

The Ethiopian - Armenian connection goes back centuries. Here is another story on the Ethiopian Armenian link that I thought was interesting. It is said Haile Salassie I, met 40 orphans who had escaped from the Armenian Genocide in Turkey. He adopted them and brought them to Ethiopia in 1924, where he then arranged for them to receive musical instructions. One of these 40 orphans composed the music for the Imperial National Anthem.

While driving around the city centre I saw a canon in one of the roundabouts and asked the driver about it. He told me that during the Italian occupation a bunch of Ethiopian revolutionaries kidnapped a group of English priests. Their demand was simple. “We used to purchase arms from

England

before the Italians took over. You are English, you must know how to produce arms. Build us a canon”, they said. “But we are priests. We have never been to an arms factory” responded the priests. The revolutionary didn’t care and threatened their lives. Left without any choice the priests built a canon. Obviously it didn’t really work. It is now displayed on that roundabout.

The more recent history of Ethiopia is better known. From the Italian occupation between 1936 and 1941 to the return of Emperor Haile Selassie form 1941 to 1974. An article written by Abraham Verghese, that I read recently, summarises this bit of history rather well - http://www.guardian.co.uk/lifeandstyle/2010/apr/11/abraham-verghese-ethiopia-coup-1973.

Guilt

2010-05-05T12:06:00.000-07:00

I have really enjoyed living life without feeling guilty about things. I often feel that the one big reason why I have been able to escape guilt is because I am not a very religious person, which I think is largely responsible for 'guilt'. Guilty about not praying enough, about eating when others are fasting - its a long list. I guess I have always believed that guilt is not self induced but caused by external pressures.

Tarana has proved this assumption of mine wrong. I now suffer from self induced guilt on a regular basis. Basically I feel pulled in two different directions - between work and motherhood. I absolutely love and adore Tarana. I also do really enjoy my work. I don't want to choose between them. I want them both. They both need more time than I have to offer - I wish I could sit around with Tarana every morning at 10am, watch her having her snack and have our silly mother daughter chat (if one can call it that)! I also wish that I don't have to run out of office every evening at 5pm leaving meetings half way through, work piled up on my desk or a really interesting job half way through to be at the nursery on time.

Guilt obviously gets a lot worse on weeks like this, when I am travelling. This week is particularly difficult as T's nursery has been closed for the last two days. So Robin and T moved into P and J's place. A nanny that T hasn't known for long has been spending the day looking after her. The guilt just piles up - guilty about T being disillusioned and upset, guilty about adding to P's already packed working day, guilty about Robin struggling to balance work, T and everything else to do with the move! I am surrounded by amazing people - my bosses at work are nothing but supportive about flexible working, P is always superb about stepping in and helping out even when it makes her life harder, and Robin is phenomenally supportive about both work and motherhood (in spite of being a little challenged in the household chores department). So there is no one but myself to blame for this 'guilty feeling'.

Tarana's vocabulary

2010-04-29T09:36:00.000-07:00

I am not sure why parents make such a big deal about first words? Of course I would have been like those excited parents had Tarana chosen to say mama as her first, fifth or even seventh word!

Jealousy apart, it is fun to watch a child struggle through their first verbal expressions. We were so overjoyed to hear her first word, not out of pride but because we had heard more than our fair share of 'dada dada' for a couple of months. So what was her first word? AllO (hello) - she would pick everything that looked remotely like a phone, take it somewhere close to her ear and say Allo. Her latest word is Yetsh (yes) and she insists on saying it right after Allo!

Three other words we hear frequently are - the dreaded nana (no) which is said most during meal times; wooa for water, sto for straw (she loves sipping things through colourful straws).

T absolutely adores Mahika and calls her 'chechi (sister in Malayalam)'. In fact, T said chechi before saying Mama or Appa (father). She did start saying Appa not much later, but mama I am still waiting to hear."

Busy times

2010-04-09T06:03:00.000-07:00

The last month has been really hectic - doing what? I don't really know. It was one of those months were neither Robin nor I travelled so just entertaining our walking, talking, ever so curious fifteen month old along side work and household chores is what has kept us so busy. Well, it would probably help if we could laze over the weekends but given that our luggage is leaving for Nairobi in 15 days, we have had just too many errands to run.

I had forgot how much work it is to move countries. Part exciting and part frustrating. Anyway, we have at least two more weeks of chaos and to add to it, Robin is travelling this week and I will be in Addis all of next week.

Spring holiday

2010-03-27T14:22:00.001-07:00

Growing up too fast

2010-03-11T06:04:00.000-08:00

It is great to have Tarana back in London with us - it has made us realise how much we missed her while she was away. She potters around the house all day - from room to room, cupboard to cupboard, and corner to corner - doing what exactly? I am not very sure. Her walking around seems, to this ignorant mother at least, rather aimless. She picks up things that come in her way and drops it as soon as something new catches her fancy. This picking and dropping is often accompanied by silly emotions - laughter, cuddly cooing, and sometimes a yell that one wouldn't believe this little person would be capable of.

She has, unfortunately, also learnt to say no. "Na na" are her exact words and she uses it fearlessly. If I try and get her to do something that she doesn't want she starts off by saying "na na" softly. If I ignore her she says "na na" louder. If I persist she starts to shake her head while saying "na na" and if I still don't give up she lifts both her hands, makes a crossing gesture to say no at the same time she shakes her head and says "na na". Where do they learn these things!

Shwedagon Pagoda

2010-03-02T20:41:00.000-08:00

Here are a few pictures from one of the most magnificant sights in Yagon - the Shwedagon Pagoda. It is amazing how I could see this - a 2500 year old giant golden pagoda - from almost everywhere in Yangon.

Being mama again

2010-03-01T18:19:00.000-08:00

I was very anxious about meeting Tarana after 5 weeks - will she remember me? Will she come to me? I hope her first reaction wouldn't involve crying! Robin sent me a loving email telling me to not feel too bad if T doesn't recognise me - he talked about children's short memories! A colleague told me to stay cool ."Sabai, Sabai", she said! All this consoling was only making me more anxious.

The moment I saw her I realised how much I had missed her. She came to me immediately, though over the last two days I have realised that she is certainly more comfortable with my mom. There are some things - like having a bath - that she wants to do only with my mom.

She has grown up so much in just a few weeks. She behaves like a little girl now - playing with makeup, getting her hair done, demanding attention, walking all over including up and down the stairs - I can't believe that she is only a year old.

It was nice to be home for holi yesterday and Tarana totally loved playing with messy colours.

Freedom

2010-02-28T08:11:00.000-08:00

I never thought too much about the word 'Freedom' before. I have grown up in a comfortable and easy environment with the opportunity to do whatever I please. I wake up on Saturday mornings shouting freedom and all I mean is that the weekend allows me to escape from my torturous weekday routine of going to work, cooking and looking after a child. But these words - freedom, escape, torture - have so much deeper a meaning in a country like Myanmar.

The political history of this country is - like most military ruled countries - a very sad one. Myanmar (or Burma) has been under military rule since 1962 and the senior military officials not only control the politics but also people's lives and the their economy. There is no freedom of press or opinion as you could be put in prison for saying what you believe in. One of the biggest pro-democracy protests took place in 1988 - know as 8888 - when the military killed and imprisoned thousands of protesters.

I was invited to a music event last evening. It took me around 15 minutes to drive across the city to a lovely residential area. I drove into a magnificent big house with a slopping red roof and big french windows. At the end of the large tropical garden, filled with ferns and sweet smelling flowers, was a lake! It was the prettiest house I had ever seen. I can imagine waking up and sitting by the lake in the morning - ah, how much more fun my morning cup of coffee would be in a place like this! When I walked in, the garden was full of people - singers, writers, and community workers I was told. On the veranda, just outside the house and facing the garden, were six men - four of whom looked elderly - singing beautiful country style songs in Burmese. The four older men played a leading role in the 8888 pro-democracy movement. They were all bright young men at that time studying in one of Yangon's most prestigious universities called the Institute of Technology. They were all active members of the Students' Union and therefore vocal during the 8888 movement. They were sent to prison in 1988 for ten years - blacking out a big chunk of their youth. When they came out of prison they decided to start singing - I couldn't understand the words - but their voices were enough to touch my soul.

The Burmese believe a lot in numerology and therefore the 1988 riots are refered to as 8888. They think that this year, the military will finally announce elections on 10th October i.e. 101010!

Freedom here is not limited to the big things in life - it affects everything. Myanmar is probably one of those few countries in the world where your cell phone will not work - there is no roaming facility available here. A sim card costs $1500! It used to cost twice as much till six months ago is what I am told. There is only one cell phone company here - of course, owned by a member of the ruling junta - and it is under government control. Therefore, even if one is ready to pay $1500 for the sim card there is no guarantee that one would get it. Also, a lot of websites can not be accessed from the country - including hotmail and yahoo. I have to say, 10 days of such limited communication with the outside world did feel a bit strange.

Around Yangon

2010-02-21T02:34:00.001-08:00

What did I see in Yangon in the first 48 hours? The restaurant on the second floor and my room on the tenth floor of a fourteen storey hotel called Panda, the outside of a supermarket that I cross during my 10 minute walk from the hotel to my office building; and my office. Oh yes, and shelves with bright pink and orange flower vases, plastic flowers and some cosmetics. On the ground floor of the building in which we have our office there is a departmental store. The only way to get to the lift or staircase that takes me to the fifth floor office is through this department store – the lift is right behind the self with the colourful vases.

I did go to a restaurant last night with some of my colleagues for some delicious food. It was, honestly, one of the most difficult food decisions ever. The restaurant served Thai, Chinese, Korean and Burmese food! I looked around at what was being served at other tables, and it all looked and smelled too delicious. I finally settled for Korean rice noodle salad with grilled sesame chicken – it was yummy.

When I left work at eight this evening I decided to spend some time walking around the city. After all, the map that I looked at in the hotel had, what I could imagine as a beautiful, river side stretch with restaurants and floating boats; half a dozen pagoda's scattered around the city, a China town, some local markets and a palace. I asked a few colleagues if anyone was interested in coming for a walk and found three volunteers. We walked into downtown Yangon – and one could suddenly sense the crowds. Bustling street markets with tiny chairs and tables all along the footpaths. And I mean tiny as in the kind of table and chairs we buy for kids. These ones are made of plastic – most are red, but some blue and green too. Yangon is dotted with open street restaurants with people - men and women, young, not so young and old – sitting on these tiny chairs, huddled around an aluminum kettle with steaming hot tea that sits on the little plastic table in the centre; talking about their day, and smoking the local green tobacco cigar. Local passenger trucks, buses and old battered Toyota Corolla, Nissan and Honda taxis brush past these people on one side. Across the road are tens of shops. Every now and then, street vendors selling Chinese jeans, torches, packet food and cosmetics intersperse with the tables and chairs of the restaurants. We walked around for an hour – downtown is downtown – tall buildings, neon lights, Bollywood and Korean movie posters, a few cinemas, some supermarkets and the beautiful Sule Pagoda at the end of the main road. There seems to be enough to explore and so I think I will take my map and do some touristy things tomorrow.

Up in the air – without George Clooney’s panache

2010-02-19T03:40:00.001-08:00

When I got off a long international flight this morning, I realised that only Hollywood and George Clooney can make long distance air travel look easy. By the end of the journey my hair was scuffled, clothes crumpled, eyes puffy and red from lack of sleep, and head throbbing with pain. I struggled to the immigration counter at Yangon International Airport with my laptop bag on my shoulder, stroller by my side, immigration card and passport in one hand, and two bags with duty free shopping in the other!

I guess it is unfair to compare myself to George Clooney. Fabulous looks apart, the character he plays in his latest movie is one among those who fly around the world in luxury, unlike us, - the cattle class travelers. I perfectly understand the principle behind the need for NGO workers like me to travel economy i.e. ensure more of the money raised for the poor reaches the poor. But who said good principles has got anything to do with comfortable travel?

I left home just before eight last morning – since Robin was around we walked to the tube station together. Yes, two suitcases, a laptop bag, a change of trains at King's Cross station and rush hour crowd – what a start to the day! I didn't get a seat on the train for the first hour of my journey – and continued to stand even after reaching Heathrow as the security check in took 40 minutes.

I hadn't flown Thai Airways before and couldn't believe the flight I walked into – it was an old jumbo jet with stairs that went up to the cockpit on the first floor, and large common TV screens at the front of each section of the economy class! I couldn't believe that I was going to spend 10.5 hours on the flight without a personal TV screen! To make things worse, the bloke that sat beside me was ordering vodka and orange juice every 20 minutes. Only when I changed flights at Bangkok did I realise that the aircraft that brought us from London was probably a replacement aircraft because the one that I boarded at Bangkok was a much nicer, newer aircraft with a personal entertainment system.

I had left my house in London at eight yesterday morning and into my hotel room in Yangon at nine thirty this morning. Though I am tired and jet lagged I am also very excited about discovering Myanmar - a mysterious and exotic country that I have, in my head, images of, based only on a few scenes from the news channels, and George Orwell's enchanting descriptions of the colonial era in the novel , "Burmese Days."

Skeptics

2010-02-12T09:31:00.001-08:00

When I was reading the newspaper a couple of days ago the article, “Homeopathy protesters to take 'mass overdose' outside Boots”, caught my attention. Homeopathy protesters! I live with one of those I thought. Robin couldn’t understand why my parents had started Tarana on homeopathy for teething related irritation. It’s just a placebo, he would keep saying.

The article only got better as it started to talk about a Merseyside Skeptics Society. A society full of skeptics! I started to rub my hands in glee – finally I had found people who would be happy to listen to Robin’s skepticism. So what is this society all about, I wondered and a few sentences later came the answer - a non-profit organisation dedicated to "developing and supporting the skeptical community"!

When I met Robin a couple of hours later I told him that I had found him a perfect bunch of friends. He however, wasn’t that easy to convince. I am too skeptical of this Skeptics Society he told me!

Here is a link to the article - http://www.guardian.co.uk/lifeandstyle/2010/jan/29/sceptics-homeopathy-mass-overdose-boots

Child free evenings

2010-02-05T07:54:00.001-08:00

This situation, of Tarana spending a month with her grand parents while her parents party in London, is turning out to be rather good for everyone. Tarana loves the excessive pampering - sleeping on the bed between her grandparents, being fed while she discovers the corners of my parents garden, millions of cuddles...its an endless list. My parents, of course, just love having her around. My mother's face can not hide her pride and excitement when, on skype, I watch Tarana run to her and give her an unstoppable number of slobbery kisses. Robin and I are absolutely loving the short term freedom from parenting by being out every single night. If we find ourselves without friends to hang out with on a particular evening, we find a film to go watch at the cinema.

There are still a number of films that we haven't seen this year so when we headed to the cinema a couple of nights ago, I was secretly hoping that I could change Robin's mind about watching Avatar. I am not a big science fiction fan and blue creatures with tails just didn't seem too appealing. However, I couldn't change his mind and we ended up going to watch it. I stepped into the hall skeptial and a hundred percent convinced that I was going to hate it. Obviously, the opposite happened. I just loved the film!

The film is an absolute visual feast - the forest itself, Pandora - where the blue creatures called Navis live - is a spectacle. The film mesmerised me – I was lost in this new world. 3D aside, I felt like a part of Pandora because James Cameroon had thought of every minute detail to make this fantasy world more real than my real world. Though everyone constantly talks about the technical and visual effects of Avatar, I also enjoyed the love story in the middle of it all. The two Navis discovering each others quirks, falling in love, walking hand in hand into the forest with its glowing plants, the romantic many moon lit night - oh, so adorable.

Surman

2010-01-26T07:22:00.000-08:00

I had written about the one big drawback of the passport episode in an earlier email – i.e. that Robin wasn’t with us on Tarana’s first birthday. We really missed him that day and without him around we just didn’t feel like big celebrations. All we did was get Tarana to cut a cake (she looked adorable in her birthday hat).

We also shared the birthday joy with 44 beautiful children in a privately run orphanage called Surman. I have to share what we saw and experienced in Surman – it was extremely heart warming. Surman was started by an inspiring young woman – Manam – who is a trained fashion designer. Manam, after seeing a young girl dressed in tattered clothes searching for food in a garbage dump, decided that she had to help such orphaned children in the city of Jaipur. What started with one child has grown to include 44 children. They all live with her, her husband and her two daughters in their warm little two bedroom flat. It is almost unfair to call this place an orphanage – it is more like a large family home. That is how Surman is run.

There is a story behind each child at Surman. One girl, now about 3 years old, was picked up by Manam a few hours after she was abandoned (wrapped in a newspaper) in a garbage bin outside a hospital. Their newest member, now almost a month old was found crying on a vacant plot of land – left there in the desert cold a few hours after she was born. All these children lost a family when they were born, only to find a happier and warmer family in Surman.

The children at Surman, like all other children their age, are noisy, mischievous and inquisitive. Some of them were delighted to see Tarana and gave her their toys to play with. Some girls played with Tarana’s hair – gave her their clips and hairband. Tarana, of course, enjoyed it all!

Bringing up children in an opinionated world

2010-01-21T23:29:00.000-08:00

I totally agree with something that Shabana Azmi said ages ago on a random TV show. She said, the malaise with us Indians is that we have too many opinions without enough information. I feel that statement is so applicable to 80% of the worlds populations - including the overly opinionated me.

Things really get messy when we have strong opinions based on information that we think is correct but really isn't. I truly enjoy opinionated people so obviously I like Malcolm Gladwell's books as they are all highly opinionated, convincingly written and gripping. Having said that, I honestly believe that he, like many others, use scenarios and examples to prove what they want to prove. Of course, rigorous research methodologies can minimise the effect of variables to ensure highly accurate results - but that is true in the case of laboratory like environments not human behaviour. Human being are so vastly different from each other, and also change significantly in new social, cultural or economic environments, and so I don't believe we can predict, with certainty, anything about their future behaviour based on a few, if not a single, factor (month of birth, for example). Primarily because we are such complex creatures with a phenomenal control over our lives and are driven by aspirations, happiness and self defined goals that will not, in any way, allow us to leave ourselves to fate, destiny or circumstance (month of birth, for example).

What annoys me the most, however, is how this kind of the research gets straight into the minds of the already stressed middle class mothers. I do realise that as a mother, I am taking the license to rant at mothers.

Lots of mothers try to control their children's environment often wanting to recreate the environment in which they grew up. What happened to the concepts of appropriate time and place, and evolution? Anyway, didn't we escape that environment the first chance we got? They try to provide the best opportunities for their child (read putting them through every extra-curricular activity that money can buy and time can permit).

The moment a mother has just about managed to perfectly juggle all these balls a convincing convenient piece of research comes along and gets added to this big bunch of juggling balls in the air! I look at them - the mothers, the balls - and worry about not worrying like they do. However, kids are not robots that can be programmed to live the 'most appropriate' life (If I really could programme Tarana, then she would be doing my laundry, making my bed...). Seriously though, if I could programme Tarana, I would limit her to only what I know and have achieved. Instead, I hope I can give her a flexible and comforting sense of space where she can grow and learn through her own experiences that, I hope, are much greater and more beautiful than mine.

A first

2010-01-14T08:47:00.000-08:00

It has happened so many times that it feels like the only way. Rushing to catch a flight or train that is. I often get to an aircraft just when the gates are closing and to a platform just when the light turns green. It wasn't too different this time. I was catching a train from Jaipur to Delhi and since the station was only seven minutes from my parents’ house, I was even more complacent. What got me a little worried was the thunder, lightning and heavy rain that started as soon as we sat in the car. With Dad's skillful driving, we managed to quickly manoeuvre through the chaotic roads and made it to the station in less than ten minutes.

Mom tucked Tarana in her arms, I shielded them under Dad's huge golf umbrella and Dad carried all my bags while we ran up and then down the crowded steps to the platform. 'Two minutes to the train' announced a woman on the loudspeaker - just enough time for me to grab something from the bookstore but not enough to absorb the smells, sounds and crowds of the busy platform. The train came. Dad and I climbed in with my bags, found my designated seat, dumped the luggage and ran back out.

I could not believe that I was doing this - leaving Tarana behind. A first. There have been many memorable firsts in my life, some extremely special ones since Tarana was born - from holding her in my arms one year ago to watching her take her first independent steps a few weeks ago. This, however, was different. Bitter. Sweet. The separation and the distance (London to Jaipur) felt bitter. The precious time she was going to spend with her doting, loving, cuddling and pampering grandparents was sweet.

I don't have words to describe that moment when we said good bye. The train had started to move; I felt my heart sink but couldn't let T see me cry. I waved, smiled, said good bye and kept waving. She knew something was happening; I could see it in her eyes. She reached out her hand and said 'dede' 'dede'. She didn't shed a tear. I didn't shed a tear. We just let the distance between our fingertips grow as the train picked up speed. I could hear her 'dede' ring in my ears.

It has now been more than 24 hours and Mom says that T hasn't shown any other signs of missing me. She has been enjoying her days - toys, food, sleep, gurgling, and a couple of special treats - an evening with horses in the Polo grounds and kite flying on the roof. I enjoyed my first day without her too - got a head massage, then walked the streets of Delhi, lunch on the roof of a building in Connaught Place, long chats with Des, some delicious dinner with Karan and then rushing to the airport only to spend four and a half hours waiting to get onto the flight (dense fog in New Delhi).

Once I got onto the aircraft I started to scribble and halfway through this scribble I started to miss my little baby. At least my motherly instincts are still alive - I had started to feel a little guilty about not feeling guilty about leaving T behind. Anyway, I didn’t feel guilty for long enough to sob too much. Afterall I had to make the most of the nine hours on the flight and watch at least three movies!

A great wedding (contd.)

2010-01-08T20:29:00.000-08:00

The wedding itself was at a lovely church in Kochi. Kerala has no quiet corners and so the church was on one of the many winding, busy roads with little colourful shops selling loads of tack. However, once I walked into the church with its high ceilings, rows of wooden benches, big doors and stained glass windows I was surprised at how quickly the sounds and chaos of the road outside vanished. All I could hear was the beautiful comforting silence of the church with occasional chatter from Tarana, Keshu and Sachin.

The church slowly filled up with beautifully dressed people – women in saris and lehengas, and men in shervanis. Pete’s big watermelon smile (as some people aptly call it) couldn’t hide the excitement in his searching eyes that were just waiting to see his bride. She walked in behind the church choir, her bridesmaids and bridesma, and beside her smartly dressed brother.

Tarana refused to understand why she wasn’t allowed to play peek-a-boo with the people sitting behind her; shout out to her Appa who was standing at the front of the church and right behind the groom; or jump up and down on the benches while singing her out of tune, gurgling rhymes. Therefore I spent a good part of the ceremony playing with Tarana on the corridors outside the church.
The delicious lunch that followed and half successful attempts to play mischief in the newly wed couple’s hotel room (at least they didn’t find one of the hidden alarm clocks that woke them up early in the morning) was all great fun. Pete and Liz planned the perfect finale to this fun wedding – we all drove down in two big busses to Athirapally and spent a night in the Rain Forest Resort, a beautiful resort facing the waterfall. The last night of good food, sentimental speeches and endless dancing I will remember fondly forever.

A great wedding

2010-01-08T19:30:00.000-08:00

I love everything about weddings – the rituals, dressing up, drinking, dancing et all. But this particular wedding, of a really close friend (Pete with Liz) that brought together other friends from across the world in beautiful, sunny and tropical Kerala was more special than any I have been to in a long time. The wedding itself was perfectly planned. It all started off with a lovely evening in the gardens of the Kochi Yacht Club overlooking the backwaters. We all enjoyed catching up with each other and exchanging stories of the past – lots of conversations started with ‘when we were together in…’ and ended with loud, hearty laughter. The women loved the mehendi and bangle corner while the jet lagged kids slept in buggies, car seats or their parent’s arms.
The next morning Robin and I woke up with pretty Keshini and sleepy Sachin, who had left thier parents in the room next door, walking into our room looking for Tarana. Robin and I let the kids entertain each other while we tried to catch a few more minutes of sleep – rather impossible with not one but three little imps jumping around in our small hotel room.
Since our rooms were all on the same floor, dressing up for the wedding was great fun. After all, girl friends, unlike husbands, don’t need to be prodded a million times for comments on what’s looking good and what is not.
More about the wedding itself, tomorrow.

An extended trip

2010-01-05T20:09:00.000-08:00

Isn’t it sometimes impossible to understand why certain things happen? It is Tarana’s first birthday today, and T and I am stuck in India because we have lost our passports! Robin is back in London – so on her first birthday Tarana is going to be missing out on hugs from her Appa. She is getting excessive attention from her grandparents instead!

Not that she has a clue that today is any different – she woken up like on any other day making loud noises and ready to pull the house down with her naughty antics. I'm sure she would rather spend every extra day she can in her grandparents sunny garden than be snowed in in cold London. Though her Appa, and his tight bear hugs she certianly misses.

The new hairdresser

2009-12-17T07:23:00.000-08:00

I have been going to the same hair-dresser in Delhi for five years so when I called the beauty salon for an appointment and they told me that she had left, I went through momentary depression. A long conversation later the lady at the other end managed to convince me to try someone new.

I stepped in at the appointed time and the lady at the reception walked me to a chair while calling out to 'Sunny'. A few minutes later Sunny emerged - a trendy man in his early twenties, wearing tight jeans, a fitted shirt and a 'cool' hairdo. He smiled at me, walked straight to a drawer, pulled out his 'holster', tied it around his waist, walked around the room, picked up all his favorite weapons (scissors, comb, sprays etc) and secured it in the the holster. I wasn't sure if I should be impressed or laugh out loud. I just kept smiling.

The experience was phenomenal - I am absolutely in love with my new hair dresser and my new hair do. His panache grew on me. At times he worked like a perfectionist with the concentration of a surgeon and at other times with the style of a flamingo dancer.

Tarana's latest favorite gadget

2009-12-13T02:33:00.000-08:00

An evening out in Accra

2009-11-05T13:16:00.000-08:00

I'm coming back to West Africa after over two years yet when I got off the aircraft on Sunday night there was something familiar about the warm humid air and the totally laid back attitude of everyone at the airport in Accra. I was too tiered to chat much with the driver on my way from the airport but we did exchange bits of information about ourselves and he was surprised - or was it horrified - that I had left my ten month old baby solely in the hands of her father! 'Have you left enough instructions for him?' he asked me. 'What will he do when she cries - I hate it when babies cry' he went on. He also told me how he took instructions from his wife, ONLY when his children were babies, and helped her prepare milk bottles in the middle of the night.

Since this was the first time I was leaving Tarana behind I decided to travel for only three days - the days she goes to nursery - so that I would be back in London on Thursday, the day she is spends with me. The flip side to this is that I have had only three days in Ghana and it has been all about work. Though I did step out yesterday evening with two of my colleagues but it was too dark to capture anything on my camera so I'll just have to describe it.

There had been a power cut and most of the city was dark but there were enough sounds from the roads to keep the night alive - tro-tros blowing the horn and stopping too often to pick up more people than they could fit, chitter chatter from the streets, people knocking on our windows to sell crafts, fish or something else. We drove past the Independence Monument and Square. Through my window and in the darkness I could see a column with the black star on top surrounded by broad roads and huge gardens. It looked magnificent and I could imagine solders marching on these roads while the on-looks cheered and clapped during Ghana's annual independence day celebrations. We also drove past the state house and the parliament.

We then drove down some quiet roads, I could hear the waves and knew that the sea wasn't far away. We turned onto a dirt road and I could see, in front of me, big waves crashing against the rocks. We walked down steps - lots of steps - till we reached what looked like a really large cemented deck. A small covered bar stood in the middle of the deck and there were plastic chairs all around. It was beautiful, the deck was basically built on the rocky part of the beach - literally built on the rocks so as we sat at the edge of the deck the waves crashed all around us, under us. It was peaceful, dark and captivating.

Leaving the baby behind

2009-11-02T11:17:00.000-08:00

I am sitting at the airport on my way to Ghana. Leaving Tarana behind for 4 full days – a first this year. How do I feel about it? I’m not too sure – the mother in me is certainly feeling anxious and a little low. I can not imagine waking up to anything but the gurgling laughter of my daughter that has been my morning alarm for the last 10 months. The woman in me though is looking forward to the travel. Work itself is interesting, the thought of sleeping through the night without having to wake up to feed Tarana and cooked breakfasts – these little everyday luxuries I am going certainly looking forward to.

First aid course

2009-10-28T14:31:00.000-07:00

Ever since I was pregnant I had wanted to go on a First Aid course. I guess taking on the responsibility of a child made me value life in a new kind of way. Disorganised as I am, it took me till last weekend to finally go on one. It was very interesting, though I hope I won't ever have to use the skills I picked up! I do also wonder if I will remember everything I learnt for more than a couple of weeks (even that is long, given my limited memory). The trainer insisted that in most cases adrenalin kicks in and one gets on with what one has to do. Only time will tell what the case with me will be like.

What I found a little amusing were the caveats that most instructions came with. Actually there were two – always call 999 (or the equivalent in other countries) and there is, in most cases the risk of being sued for helping someone out! I couldn’t believe that – someone almost dying of choking, and if I were to save her life she might sue me for stomach injuries (a possible side effect of abdominal thrust) or someone stops breathing and I could get sued for a broken rib (possible side effect of CPR)!

I was most interested in baby and child first aid, and doubt that my nine month is really ready to sue me just yet. Having said all that, I would really recommend this course, especially to new mothers. It isn't too expensive either if you, unlike me, can avoid a huge parking fine.

Diwali

2009-10-22T04:19:00.000-07:00

A mother going back to work

2009-10-17T08:01:00.000-07:00

I love being a woman. It is always such an interesting - sometimes entertaining sometimes frustrating - experience. I enjoy the preferential treatment it sometimes offers. Well, I don't agree with the principle behind it but as long as I get to stand in a shorter line at the always overcrowded reservation counter at an Indian Railway station, who cares about principles. That probably isn't entirely true. I do get really annoyed by people who think that women can and can not, should and should not do certain things. I can go on ranting about what it means to be a woman so let me get to what I really wanted to share, but before that here is a link you might enjoy - http://www.c-boom.com/women_humor.htm

What I want to write about today is my experience this week - starting work after nine long months and that too, as a mother. It has added a whole new dimension to being a woman. I have issues with a whole bunch of terminologies this world comes up with - this time its 'working mother'. Forget some of the prejudice that comes along with this term, but the term itself doesn't really mean anything. If it is trying to differentiate women who go out to work from those who choose to stay home, it doesn't really do that. After all a mother is always "working" - changing diapers, feeding, playing etc.

I've still not described my experience this week - well, it was complicated, emotionally complicated, to say the least. Was I looking forward to going back to work - if you had asked me that question nine months ago the answer would have been nothing but a very emphatic yes. So what was the answer on Monday? To be honest, I was feeling terribly anxious, a bit nervous and also excited - almost as if it was my first day at work ever. I really enjoy what I do and I can not deny, I did feel like my brain had started to rot a bit so was looking forward to some intellectual stimulation. Was I feeling guilty about leaving Tarana at a nursery - absolutely! My adorable, innocent little daughter and all her naughty charming antics - how could I be doing this to her. Well, of course I had to justify - she'll be independent, social and all the germs will only strengthen her immunity I told myself. All the contradictory feelings made the first week an emotional roller coaster ride.

Love in the time of Diarrhea

2009-10-09T03:46:00.000-07:00

Three days in a nursery and Tarana came back with a bug - she has had diarrhea and vomiting over the last two nights. Most friends with kids warned us about this but I guess we didn't take it seriously enough till now. A sick baby is difficult in every way - for the baby (it's just not fair how helpless they look and feel), for the parents (endless worry, sleepless nights and long days) and for everyone around.

It is, I guess, a little strange then that I am writing about revitalising moments of love and affection that this situation has brought along --- Robin and I staying up through the night, not to curl up in bed and chat but to rock our daughter to sleep and change her dirty diapers; making each other coffee and toast, not as an accompaniment to television but as the only thing we have time to eat for dinner. We had a book club evening yesterday and both of us absolutely loved reading Salmon Fishing in the Yemen and were very excited about discussing it with everyone. But given T's health we decided not to go. Well actually both of us tried convincing the other to go but I think we wanted to share the difficult evening and cuddle our daughter together. Well, maybe not share the difficult evening, but certainly cuddle the daughter! Anyway, this morning was the most refreshing - Robin had gone to the neighbourhood pharmacy to pick up some stuff for T and since we haven't had breakfast in the last few days I quickly put together a sandwich that he could eat on his way to work. He got back quickly and was in a bigger rush to leave again when I handed him the sandwiches and he me, a bag with warm fresh croissants. We'd both got each other some breakfast!

Time for nursery

2009-10-06T07:28:00.000-07:00

I can't believe it is already time for Tarana to go to nursery and me to join work. This week we are settling Tarana into the nursery which basically means that she spends a few hours every day to familiarise herself with it. We have chosen to put her into a nursery called Scribbles. So far it seems nice - housed in a church building (since a very small proportion of the UK population goes to church most churches have had to sell or rent out the church building. Some are even pubs and nightclubs!) Anyway, a church building makes a lovely spacious nursery - large rooms, big windows that let in a lot of light, and a decent amount of outside space for the kids to play in. Scribbles is about a 15 minute walk from our house and therefore easy for Robin to drop her off and me to pick her up. Hopefully she will be used to her new routine by next Monday - when I go back to work.

She embarrassed us a bit on her first day by tugging at a child's hair (he was twice her size too) and grabbing at another child's biscuit - all in the first 10 minutes! Today I left her there for 2 hours (that included a short nap time) while I enjoyed a cup of coffee and a delicious fresh sandwich at our local Italian delicatessen.

Sunny weekend in September

2009-09-29T11:01:00.000-07:00

I was recently viewing photographs of a friends on facebook and absolutely loved her story-like captions. I have copied her idea (though not as well) in these photos.

Supersititions

2009-09-26T03:51:00.001-07:00

Am I superstitious? I hope not. Though being an Indian, it probably is a part of my genetic profile. One of the big Indian superstitious is the belief in 'the evil eye'. There are a lot of old cultures across the world that also believe in it so it is probably not a big deal that almost everyone across the entire Indian sub-continent tries to keep the 'evil eye' out of their lives. How? That depends on what you are up to or where in the country you come from. For example in the north of the country people hang ugly masks on the front of their houses to keep the 'evil eye' away. The neighbourhood thought there was something wrong with my parents as they refused to hang an obnoxious mask from the front terrace of their new house. If its a new car it needs to drive over some lemon and if its a baby we cover them in black dots and black thread. Neither of which seem to have made a dent on the number of road accidents or high infant mortality in the country.

I, obviously, refused to do any of that with Tarana. During my trip to India a couple of 'aunties' insisted that I make my baby look more 'desi' by doing some of these things and I laughed them off. But today I am in a slight fix.

My brother has brought Tarana a 'Tlismi moti' - a small pearl on a black thread. When I was in India I met a few people who swore by the Tlismi moti as the only cure to teething pain. My mother therefore decided to source it - she asked a cousin who lives in Hyderabad (the main source for these pearls) to bring it with her to Jodhpur when she came around to visit my grandmother. My mom then couriered it to my brother who has now brought it to London. Given the emotion and effort behind this I feel absolutely obliged to tie it around T's neck. I've read a bit about it and some people in the e-world also seem to swear by it. The scientific (research based on the very authentic internet based scientific information!) view seems to be that this pearl releases a calming effect when in contact with warm skin. No, I don't absolutely believe it, and yes I am embarrassed of my daughter walking around with a black thread but she'll wear it to remind us all of the absolutely loving yet quirky grandmother she has.

All grown up...

2009-09-26T03:00:00.000-07:00

I have been very excited - my brother, with a couple of friends has come to London to visit us. He hasn't come over since we moved to London even though Dad and Mom have been here twice. I guess, during our initial years here he was busy with an MBA and then doing what young graduates do - long hours and no holidays at their first jobs in a bank. Anyway, I'm glad he has finally got some time off (though only 10 days, I wish it had been twice as long) to come over.

I often look at Tarana and feel like this year has gone by too soon but when, waiting in the long line at the airport car park I reflected back on life - it felt like only yesterday that Karan and I were growing up together in my parents home - fighting over candy and complaining to mom about each others antics. Before I know it here we are - living in two different countries. Me with a baby and husband and my little brother with a proper grown up job.

Pictures at our local park

Small steps...big step

2009-09-21T03:59:00.000-07:00

Until I had my own, I never realised how magical (and yes a little exhausting) it is to watch a child grow up. Tarana's first eight months have had lots of little milestones - smiling, rolling over, eating solid food etc. The latest one - standing up and taking a few supported steps - almost feels like a miracle. I can't believe that this is the same little girl who, just eight months ago, couldn't even follow an object with her eyes! Of course with every new ability comes some catastrophic side effects - once she had learnt to grab things she soon figured out how to shove them into her mouth (so there was my cue to stop sanitising - how can one mother ever sanitise the planet). Now that she is standing and almost walking I can see a lot more trouble heading our way.

Here are a few pictures of her doing her drunken balancing act.

The Spaniards Inn

2009-09-01T03:09:00.000-07:00

The Spaniards, a pub across the road from Hampstead Heath is not more than a 10 minute walk from our house. Since we've moved to our flat, we cross it at least once a week and have always thought about going there for Sunday roast. Using Robin's birthday as an excuse, we finally went there last Sunday.

The approach to Spaniards is wooded and green because of the heath and the road, an otherwise busy city road, turns into a narrow, winding country road just at Spaniards because the pub and the 18th century toll keeper's cottage (across the road from the pub) are both listed buildings and can not be altered. A pain for parents doing school rounds in the morning, but quintessentially an English country side feel for those who visit this place occasionally.

The pub lived up to our expectations - a fascinating old building with a beautifully maintained large garden, dark low beams and paneling, sloping creaky wooden floors, good food, and the biggest collection of beers (including a strawberry flavored one) that I have ever seen. We had booked the upstairs dining room - a lovely large wooden room with some old style chairs and small windows leaning onto the road.

Here are a few pictures from Sunday:

Poetry

2009-08-25T02:16:00.000-07:00

I have never been a big reader of poetry. Though, during school where there was little escape from it given the CBSE English syllabus included poetry in each of my 12 years at school. In fact, I remember enjoying most of the poem we studied. In those days (alas, I am part of the generation that starts conversations with 'in those days'), most of the poetry we studied was from outside India - William Wordsworth, Robert Frost, Emily Dickinson etc. I was pleasantly surprised to hear that the revised syllabus includes a number of Indian poets.

When our book club chose a book of poetry this month, it was a departure from usual reading for most of us. Initially I was a little skeptical, as I knew I would not make the effort to finish the book if I didn't enjoy the first ten or so poems.

So, this weekend, while we were in Enford, a small village near Salisbury, we decided to read some of the poems from 'Birthday Letters' by Ted Hughes. I don't know if it was the setting - sitting by the fire on big, comfortable queen chairs in a warm, beautiful and typically English country house; or the poems - Ted Hughes's simple style in these poems dedicated to Sylvia Plath. I suspect that it was a combination of the two that got me engrossed in the poetry and now I am thoroughly enjoying the book. The language is beautiful and the figures of speech, colourful making it easy to associate with Plath's personality, her life and their relationship. Will I go into the stores and pick up more poetry? I don't know yet.

Pics form the weekend

Evoling relationships - father, mother and daughter

2009-08-20T09:31:00.000-07:00

Today was the first day in over seven months that I have left Tarana alone, for an entire day, with her father. I was going into work as part of my 'staying in touch days'. Besides feeling anxious, given my brain has been hibernating for seven months, I also had a strange (and unexpected) sinking feeling when I watched Tarana smiling at me as I walked out of the door and down the staircase. I almost wanted her to 'show' that she missed me a little more than her big, excited and obviously ignorant of what was going on smile let out. Don't get me wrong, I have always wanted my child to be independent (well yes, as independent as a gurgling seven month old can be) and therefore today was a realisation of sorts - of how emotionally independent from my child I think I am but really, am not; and more importantly of how selfless a parents support and nurturing really needs to be.

The other very important outcome of walking out of the house today was providing space for father-daughter time. Robin hasn't been around much since Tarana was born - not because he doesn't want to be but because he is having a manic year at work. A week after she was born he traveled to Bangladesh, three months later he left us to be in Sudan for two and a half months (while T and I went to India - which was rather nice ofcourse), and last week he was back in Sudan and Kenya. So leaving the two of them alone seems like an essential start to letting them work out their relationship. Was I skeptical about Robin's capability? Absolutely! I am a woman. I do not think that a man can effectively multi-task and manage a household to the high standards of a woman.

I had a friend, also a mother to two beautiful children, tell me last weekend that 'men are basically selfish because they instinctively choose work over family commitments'. I wouldn't call Robin selfish but 'practical'. Maybe I'm just being a defensive wife. Practical - that really is Robin's most defining characteristic. He doesn't believe in 'emotional' solutions where one person might be making a 'sacrifice' for the other. He believes that in all relationships and at all times one can achieve an optimal solution that benefits everybody. I totally disagreed with that and a day with Tarana suddenly challenged his theory - though I don't think he has realised it yet. Or maybe Tarana and him are happy to do things differently in their relationship. Either way and in-spite of blaming the mother at the end of the day for it all going a bit tipsy, I do think a few days with her alone will help Robin figure out a parenting style that works not just for him but for both of them. For he will realise, sooner than later, that a seven month old doesn't stop whining till she gets just what she wants! The harder bit is going to be for me to be OK with his style of parenting where it differs from mine. (Ofcourse, there is always an option to add it to the list of things I nag him about or to make it a little more challenging by throwing in cooking, shopping, cleaning, ironing, laundry, banking and holiday planning into the next few days that he is home!)

110,000 cases of swine flu...

2009-08-10T09:40:00.000-07:00

...in England last week and I am now a part of that statistic. Did I have swine flu? Thankfully not. But does that really matter? Well this is what happened. Sometime last week I came down with fever, a slight dry cough and body ache. I was pretty sure it wasn't swine flu but just a result of an exhausting day when I also managed to skip lunch. Skipping a meal is something that my body can just not take - the sign of retaliation is an irritated Tulika, followed by a headache and finally fever.

On any other day I would have just drugged myself with stuff available over the counter for one day and been better on the next. This time, with Robin leaving for Sudan and me having to manage Tarana by myself, I decided it might be sensible to see a doctor. Nothing new about the experience with NHS - since I wasn't dying or giving birth the GP wasn't interested in looking at me and the moment I mentioned flu like symptoms even less so. So what am I to do? I asked. 'Call the Swine flu helpline' came the response. There is a lot being written about the swine flu helpline over the past couple of weeks - good, bad and the ugly. So it was just too tempting to not call.

After the pleasant, though medically unqualified, person on the other end of the phone had ascertained that I was not chocking or bleeding to death he decided I did after all have 'flu like symptoms' and prescribed Tamiflu. Robin, Tarana and I trekked across to the Finchley Memorial Hospital to pick it up but since I wasn't convinced that I really had the swine flu I decided to just overdose of Lemsip - 2 days and I was cured!

I understand that the government wants to hype up the numbers (by including anyone with flu like symptoms in the swine flu list) to show how overworked the NHS is, how impossible it is to test everyone etc. But if people are getting paranoid because they constantly read about the exponentially increasing cases, hyping up the numbers doesn't really help does it?

Baby food

2009-08-01T14:35:00.000-07:00

There is no hiding how passionate I am about food - shopping for ingredients, discovering new flavours, cooking food, presenting food, eating food - there is nothing about it that I don't like. I am one of those people who enjoys cooking not just for others but also for myself. Honestly, even on days when I am home alone (with Tarana around there aren't too many solitary moments any more though) I can ponder over what to treat myself with, shop and cook all evening and enjoy it by myself.

Why then, I wonder, am I so frustrated with Baby Food? There has got to be something I can do to pureeing fruits and vegetables that makes it more interesting. I am sure that as she grows older we will be able to enjoy food together but for now playing aeroplane with the spoon while feeding her is all the entertainment I can look forward to.

Though her verbal skills are yet to develop, Tarana makes it pretty clear what it is that she likes (big smiles, mouth open for the next bite) and what she doesn't (whining sound, scream, pushing away the spoon). Her 'does not like' list includes apples and banana's. People with babies will sympathise with me - mashing banana is the simplest baby food to prepare. Tarana loves her rice - those bland rice cakes, pureed rice and lentils. She is also OK about some veges. Given that she is surrounded by food lovers, I hope Tarana grows up to enjoy what she eats.

This is before she has started eating ofcourse!

Together again...

2009-07-29T11:32:00.001-07:00

Robin, me and Tarana...

Evolving India?

2009-07-26T12:00:00.000-07:00

It was great spending three months in India - long enough to feel like a part of everything again. The usual three week holidays are never an honest experience. As the time is short we usually pick only our favorites - restaurants, events, drives, people - and come back all blue eyed about the country. Flaws, what flaws? Everything about the country looks progressive - better roads, faster internet, legal amendments - decriminalisation of homosexuality, Domestic Violence Act... It is a long list of the great transition that the country is going through.

Spending three months in the country allowed me to connect with the grassroots again. Some good some not so good.

The primary concern on the minds of those who helped around in my mother's house (ironing lady, cleaning lady, massage lady etc) seemed to be that I had had a daughter. Some would try to make me 'feel better' by saying "don't worry, you will have a son next time". Female foeticide is still on the rise in India. Disappearing daughters, a report by ActionAid states that 35 million girls are 'missing' in India.

I really enjoyed being a part of the Indian elections but the amount of nepotism or 'family politics' as it is called in India - is astonishing. Almost every political party was handing out tickets to the relatives of existing politicians. But it doesn't seem to end here - a lot of other sectors are promoting 'family'. Take Bollywood for example, whether they can act or not doesn't seem to be the criteria for someone coming into hindi movies - Abhishek Bachhan with a famous father and beautiful wife seems is the easiest example.

There are lovely housing complexes coming up all over the country - unfortunately gated (read very high walls) - with beautifully manicured lawns and tennis courts, swimming pools etc. But what about water and electricity? Well the local government doesn't provide much of these so private housing complexes just use large, commercial and environmentally polluting generators, and dig deep for ground water (with millions of such buildings across the country why do we wonder about ground water depletion?).

The list of contradictions that we live with in India is just too long and yet my instant, unflinching and honest answer to the question 'which is your favorite country in the world' will always be - India!

Dog lover

2009-06-28T08:36:00.001-07:00

After our trips to Kerala and Delhi, Tarana and I are finally back in Jaipur. Somewhere during the travels I caught a bad cold and cough that recently escalated into a proper flu. Unfortunately for Tarana I passed it onto her – so she had to deal with her first dose of antibiotics. We have both recovered now and I am plotting plans for the coming week.

Besides the cold/cough, Kerala and Delhi were both good fun.

In Kerala, Tarana spent limited time around Bruno (Robin’s parents Labrador) as we felt she was too small to enjoy a pet. But in Delhi she proved us wrong. We were at a friend’s place who has an adorable six 6 month old pug called Pumpkin. For Tarana and Pumpkin it was love at first sight. They reached out to each other – Pumpkin caressing Tarana with her paws and Tarana tugging lovingly at Pumpkin’s ears – both equally delighted with the other. The next morning, when mom got back from a market she brought along a cute cuddly stuffed toy-dog that we are calling Pumpkin, Tarana’s first love.

Her love for dogs was confirmed yesterday when we went to a farm close to Jaipur were there were seven big strong and ferocious Alsatians. Tarana, who often gets scared by a loud sneeze, was having great fun standing in the middle of these seven barking dogs! Robin is delighted that she has inherited his dog loving genes.

Reunion

2009-06-03T04:13:00.000-07:00

Given the nature of our jobs both Robin and I spend a lot of time travelling. We often say that the secret to our very happily married life is this forced distance between us! Things have been a little different for the past year - pregnancy, the house move, Tarana's birth - all this meant that neither of us could travel too much. I've ended up on maternity leave and Robin has had travel piling up. So off he went to Southern Sudan (I'll cajole him into writing a bit on this blog about all his adventures in the still war torn country) and me to India.

I enjoy the romance created by distance - it feels like old times when we were dating. Every time Robin calls I rush to a find a quite corner in an otherwise bustling house; cuddled in bed at night we send sms's to each other; and out in the markets I can't stop myself from picking up little things for him. It does feel refreshingly different from me nagging him about household chores!

Though with Tarana in the family, relationships have expanded and there is just nothing romantic about spending too much time away from her. Robin misses her immensely and I can't wait till the day after tomorrow when they will get to cuddle together after so many days. She has grown, her laughter has become louder, her smiles more generous and her play time more fun.

Spirituality

2009-05-31T20:03:00.000-07:00

Both dad and mom believe a lot in spirituality. Mom believes in everything else too – God, prayers, rituals et all. Organised religion I am just not a believer of, though there were times when I was younger – when exam results were due – I turned into a temple going believer! When it comes to spirituality I sit on the fence. Anyway, given the spiritual quest that my parents are perpetually on, this trip also consisted of a few unique encounters that even my spiritually disabled and constantly questioning mind thoroughly enjoyed.

The first was a short diversion from the Jaipur-Jodhpur highway to a village called Bala. We drove off the highway onto a narrow country road filled with mirages from the sweltering heat and surrounded by the endless desert sand. The road ended at a mud wall. We walked in through a small gate into a compound with rural adobes and a small temple. My parents come here often to pay their respects to Bala Sati Ma who is no more but has been seen by many from grandparents and parents generation. She didn’t eat or drink anything for 40 years while carrying out all her daily chores (cooking, cleaning etc) effortlessly. A biography of hers states that scientists have spent years studying her anatomy but were left bewildered. I didn’t connect with the spiritual essence of the place. I, however, have to say that the place felt very peaceful and calming. I guess it was the non-commercial and humble environment that helped me appreciate the setting

The other interesting place that we went to was in Mount Abu, an otherwise crowded and noisy hill station. This was an ashram about 10,000 years old were Vashisht lived before he was requested to move to Ayodhya. The Nikki Lake and Dilwara temples (magnificently carved Jain temples from 1000AD) in Abu are full of tourists, but for some reason the Vashisht ashram doesn’t seem to attract any of them. It might be because of the 800 steps that one needs to climb down to get there! We went at 6:30 in the morning – the breeze was cool and the clouds were gliding past the hills – the trek down the wooded hills to the ashram was wonderful. As we were climbing down the last few steps we could hear the arti (morning prayer) starting. There were about half a dozen sages in long saffron robes standing inside a small ancient temple. We stepped in and stood besides them. The clang of the bells echoing in the forest, the resonance of the chants and claps, and the dancing flame was an experience I can not describe in words. After a walk around this ancient historic site we sat under a big shady tree, relishing the shanti (peace) and our sandwiches, and preparing for our climb back up the 800 steps.

Pictures from the trek

Road trip

2009-05-31T08:46:00.000-07:00

As kids I have done a lot of road trips with my family so when we decided to drive down to Mount Abu (about 550 kms from Jaipur) I was very excited about reliving some of those family moments. To use this as an opportunity to meet my grandmother and also to make the journey easy for Tarana we decided to take a short diversion to Jodhpur. Spending a couple of days in my grandparents house (were I spent most of my summer vacations) was a trek down memory lane. I have been meeting my grandma at my parents place over the past few years and haven’t had the need to visit Jodhpur – I was going back after almost 8 years. But nothing has changed – it was as if I had gone back in time. Everything, even the pens on the study table, was where I remembered it to be. (picture of tarana with Great Grandma)
The drive too was like old times, waking up early, packing home made sandwiches, juices and bags of crisps – we have always enjoyed munching on long drives. We were on the road at 6:45am and watched the city waking up as we drove across – the rising sun throwing a beautiful golden light down on the city, the sand swirling lightly on the road side and a warm breeze blowing on the car windows.

I haven’t driven much in a desert before and was surprised by how diverse and picturesque the terrain is. We drove past long dry stretches with short stubby shrubs growing here and there. The straight, never ending road, that we were on stood out in the desert sand. Every now and then we would pass a deserted petrol pump; people wearing colourful traditional clothes (women in lehengas and men in white pajama kurta and a colourful turban) walking in the scorching heat (45degrees); and drive over bridges that were build to help cross the once wide river where not a drop of water could be found now. There was also a patch of hills – rocky, barren and huge over looking the long narrow road. Simply spectacular.

Indian elections

2009-05-21T20:15:00.001-07:00

It was great to be in India during the elections this year. It instantly made me feel like I was part of the country and all its political tamasha. It is one thing to watch the self obsessed Burkha Dutt on NDTV in London and another to follow her over simplified observations (I really don’t want to use the word analysis) while in India. News readers apart – watching the results unfold in a matter of hours was a phenomenal experience.

I am so glad that the Congress has won. Not because they are my favorite party – unfortunately it is just the result of an elimination process. BJP are too Hindutva for my liking and more so this time as they were pushing for Modi (the mass murderer as Vir Sanghvi, very aptly, puts it in his column whenever he can); and the Third Front didn’t seem to have a common ideological base – they claimed to have come together to keep the Congress and BJP from forming a government. That isn’t a very substantial vision for the country now is it?

The substantial lead that the Congress won this election with doesn’t seem to insulate them from all the post election negotiations and threats. It looks like the DMK is making some ridiculous demands for ministries to keep their sons and daughters happy. Let’s see what the final cabinet looks like and what responsibilities Rahul Gandhi decides to take on. I’m looking forward to an interesting few weeks ahead.

Desi Babus (Indian bureaucrats)

2009-05-14T05:44:00.000-07:00

A trip to India is incomplete without an encounter with a bureaucrat in one of the many avtars they dawn across this country. This time it was to do with changing our addresses on the passport. Now that Dad and Mom have finally moved into their own home after spending years moving from one Naval Base to another, Dad thought that it is probably time to get the address (from some old government accommodation) changed to something more permanent.

To start with I was rather impressed as we were told to visit www.passport.gov.in – the official website and fill out an automated form. No standing in a long line waiting for a ‘window’ to open and hand out forms, no filling them in triplicates with affidavits and a million enclosures – what progress. The celebrations were a little too soon as we found it impossible to apply for a change in address on the website. Numerous unsuccessful phone calls later we decided it was time to do things the Indian way. So Dad called someone, who called someone who knew the civil servant managing the passport office in Jaipur. So we trekked across the city to a newly developed Industrial Area with impressive infrastructure – broad clean roads, smart buildings hosting various government departments. I thought it was rather sensible of the state government to move some of its offices away from the congested city center into a more open and friendly environment. The passport office too was impressively clean and organized.

Even though we had an appointment we had to sweet talk our way to the bureaucrat as the two guards – one at the bottom of the steps and one at the front of his office – ensured that it is almost impossible to meet the man in charge. To be fair, the bureaucrat himself was nice enough – even got us some coffee. But what gets to me is that most of these guys take forever to get to the point. They make you wait around their table while they talk to few others sitting on some of the visitor chairs and sipping chai, sign a few files, talk to people walking in and out of their office and then, 20 minutes later tell you that you actually need to go back home, get online and fill the form for a new passport, then come back to him with print outs of those forms a couple of days later. Couldn’t he have just said that the moment we walked in? Or better, over the phone?! The wait wasn’t too boring – we heard some amusing cases. Too long to narrate it in this blog, maybe another time.

Anyway, two trips later we are still struggling to provide all the information they need – since there isn’t a list anywhere and we depend on each trip to get new bits of information – for our Babus, information really is power!

Pictures from Choki Dhani

2009-05-10T00:38:00.000-07:00

We went around to Choki Dhani to celebrate Tarana's four month birthday. Here are pictures from the evening.

The massage wali (lady)

2009-04-30T02:39:00.000-07:00

Every part of India has its own set of customs associated with various events in life - birth, marriage, etc. Sometimes the custom in one place can contradict and almost offend that from another - when Robin and I got married, the proposed 'auspicious time' that our respective families had come up with were quite different. One started right after the other!

The one practice that seems to be followed across the country, and very willingly by me, is that of post pregnancy massage. Usually the mother gets 30 to 45 days of massage soon after the delivery and since I couldn't afford such luxury in London I'm catching up with the traditional requirements now that I am in India.

The massaging techniques together with the accompaniments (oil etc) found in the country are as diverse as everything else here. Some of these massages should come with a statutory warning as they can certainly be injurious to ones health. I laugh every time I think of the head massage that Robin once got at a small shop in Jhansi. The method - press as hard as you can, or in this case, hit as hard as you can - is the mantra for pain relief. After a bout of painful head massage Robin finally had a small smile on his face thinking that the worse was over and not realising that the short pause was because the masseur was stretching his hand so far back for an impact that Robin would remember for a while.

Recently though there has been an additional option of enjoying great massages in the thousands of spas coming up in all our big cities. My favorite is the Asian Roots in New Delhi - you'll find all you want in the massage menu; a very clean, comforting and relaxing environment (I love the contemporary design and use of warm dark wood); and brilliant masseurs.

Anyway, in Jaipur, for my post pregnancy pampering I have settled for the local massage wali who very conveniently comes home. Besides her rather enjoyable massage and not always interesting community gossip she is also a source of traditional and natural remedies for any ailment I present to her. Dandruff - mix camphor in your oil, for a funny tummy soak figs and munnaka (a kind of raisin) in water over night and eat it she tells me. Natural therapy and massages is what a lot of people are turning to and will to pay a lot for across the world. Its great to see that these are so easy to access, with the statutory warning ofcourse, in the country that has always been proud of such practices being a part of its culture.

London to Jaipur via Delhi

2009-04-26T22:24:00.000-07:00

Its been exactly a week since I've been in India and for the first time in three and a half years it feels like a real holiday. I've managed to come home five times since we moved to London but it never felt like we had enough time - between visiting my parents and Robin's (in the two corners of this country), catching up with friends and stealing a few days for a short 'holiday' the three or four weeks always whizzed by too soon.

This time I am around for almost 3 months and its great to not feel the pressure to touch base with everyone in the first twenty four hours. I am being, as I have been over the past 4 months, lazy - I should qualify that as extremely lazy. Eating, chatting, getting massages, keeping Tarana amused every now and then are all the chores I am responsible for. Ah, its brilliant coming back to my mom's house to be pampered. The only unfortunate bit is that Tarana is having some trouble with Eczema - it had started in London but hasn't become better (or worse) since I got here.

I'll upload pictures as soon as I figure out how to connect my camera onto this ancient computer that my parents own! Its probably not the computer but my total ignorance that is the problem. Either way, I'll try to sort it out this week.

Pictures from this morning

2009-04-18T02:12:00.001-07:00

Liberia

2009-04-16T14:05:00.000-07:00

There was sudden panic in our household earlier this week as it looked like Robin might have to make an emergency trip to Liberia on work Given that Tarana and I are leaving this weekend, it would have been a real shame to not have him around as we are not going to see much of him over the next two and a half months. Anyway, it looks like the work issues have been resolved and Robin won't have to go after all.

Robin and I spent a good part of 2007 - almost 6 months in all - traveling around Africa. I started the year with a trip to Rwanda in January. Prior to traveling there my perception of the country was based entirely on the film Hotel Rwanda. What I saw was surprisingly more positive - 13 years after the conflict the country had come a long way. Anyway, later that year I spent 2 months (Robin a lot more) in Liberia. Nothing could have prepared me for what I was to see and experience. Here is an email I had sent a few friends after my first few days in Monrovia. I'll post a few other thoughts from that trip over the next few days.

04-17-2007
We're finally in Liberia – the flight here was a nightmare. All I have to say about SN Brussels – if you can avoid it, avoid it. Its perpetually late, the air hostesses are rude, the flights are old, the entertainment system sucks (one small TV in the middle of the plane and no headphones) and unlike most other airlines where one gets way more food then one can eat – SN Brussels starves its passengers. We took off at 7 am London time and landed at around 9 pm London time – all that we got to eat during that time was one cold croissant for breakfast and a small bowl of pasta and salad for lunch.

Anyway, the view while flying into Sierra Leone and Liberia was just breath taking – vast expanse of a blue green ocean and long beautiful coastlines with big white waves crashing into it. It was very dark and cloudy when we landed and looking out of the window I expected a nip in the air. But the moment I stepped out of the aircraft I could feel that lovely hot air touch my skin – just like the hot monsoons in India – ah, I luv that feeling that smell.

The immigration and baggage claim is a story in itself – wish I had a camera to send pictures of the world's most chaotic airport! Two small rooms, hot, humid, noisy, bustling with people – those with 'connections' had someone take their passports directly to the immigration officer and have it stamped while the rest of us stood in line. Honestly, the airport is barely bigger or more organised than a cattle shed.

The drive from the airport to the apartment was a rather different experience – we landed around 8pm local time. The sun had set, the streets were dark. I knew that Liberia doesn't have any grid electricity (Monrovia is the only capital city in the world without grid electricity), but didn't realise just how different that could be. I had to strain my eyes to look out of the car window - could see huts scattered on the roadside and people sitting around – but everything was pitch dark. It was like driving inside a forest or something. No light bulbs, no candles – just darkness, and the sounds of the wind and the people. A very different feeling!

The apartment is nice – very close to the sea. The view from the ActionAid office is also great. I spent a quite day yesterday eating corn on the cob – coal roasted on the roadside.

Hope all's well at that end. Will keep you posted on things I see and hear. By the way people here don't call each other by name – its 'sister' or 'man' or 'woman'. Guess what Robin's called? 'Boss man'. I've decided to call him boss-man from now too!

Long Weekend

2009-04-16T02:48:00.000-07:00

I love long weekends and start counting the days for the first bank holidays from the day our new year begins. This year the Easter weekend was particularly special as we got our passports back a few days before, which meant that I could book my tickets for India. Yes! I'm off in a couple of days! It was also really nice to have Robin home for four days - we were hoping to spend some quiet family time together but given that Tarana and I are leaving for India soon we ended up spending the weekend with friends and lots of food. Friday we had a couple of friends for dinner and a night spend; we started Saturday by binging at Chennai Dosa and ending it with a home made Sushi feast by Hiroshi; on Easter Sunday we had a bunch of friends at our place for lunch and finished with dinner at ours on Monday. The Monday dinner was particularly special as I finally made Pad Thai (my favorite Thai dish) at home. I had come across this interesting story like recipe about how it is put together on the streets of Bangkok. It wasn't perfect, but I know what to do differently next time - after all, my recipe came without measurements!

Here are a few pictures of the delicious ingredients that went into my Pad Thai.

Fresh prawns from the fish market - courtesy Hiroshi and Rita who trekked across half of London on Saturday morning to get us fresh fish for the Sushi dinner

Long, crunchy sprouts - can't have enough of them.

Two interesting textures - bamboo shoot and tofu

Yummy crunchy peanuts - I always add some as extras on my pad thai - and finely sliced spring onions.

Rice noodles - I'm never sure if I like pad thai better with the thinner or the bigger flatter noodles. I guess it is traditionally made with the thin ones but I enjoy the flat ones too.

Noisy family

2009-04-09T10:02:00.000-07:00

Robin and I can both babble incessantly and therefore when Tarana was born I wondered which way she would choose to go. She, of course, has two options. One - the only way to get a word in this household is to talk louder than the rest. Or two - there is no way one can really get a word through so why bother. Well, it may be too soon to say but it looks like our little one knows how to make her voice heard. Though this is certainly not going to take her to Bollywood as she might have some performance issues. I have been trying to capture her grunting on camera for over two weeks now and the moment I press record our lady decides to stop her sentance mid way and not say a word till her mother is bored enough to switch the camera off. Today, finally, I have managed to get a bit of her on tape. So here she is...

Day trips with Tarana

2009-04-04T02:42:00.000-07:00

The snow came in the way of weekend trips that we had planned while Dad and Mom were around so when a couple of weekends ago, the sun finally found its way to the UK sky we decided that we had to drive out of town. Robin had been wanting to go back to Reading for a while to catch up with an old professor. That was Tarana's first day trip.
On Friday, K had to drive to Oxford on work so Arti, Anika, Tarana and I decided to tag along. It was the first time in months that I had to wake up early and it was unbelievably difficult! After a lot of agonising we did manage to get out of the house at 7:30. The day turned out to be great - bright and warm. Arti and I, with our two buggies ofcourse, walked all day (9:30 to 5:30) without an agenda - loitering in and out of shops and taking long coffee breaks at cafes we thought looked interesting. We also walked around some of the famous Oxford sights including the Bodleian library, Hertford bridge, Blackwell books and a whole bunch of colleges.

Arti and Anika
Tarana and me

Enjoying the spring...

2009-04-02T03:47:00.001-07:00

Enjoying the first bright spring weekend in the heath
Tarana and me spend way to much time at the local coffee shop - this week we've been there every evening!
Tarana's peers - since she doesn't have much of a say at the moment Tarana spends most of her time with her mommy's friends but every now and then she gets to play around with people her age too!

Where it began. Actually, a little bit later than that.

2009-03-30T09:05:00.000-07:00

I spent all of Friday and Saturday very excited and well a bit nervous - a combination of emotions that always drive me crazy on 'big days'. This time it wasn't a big day in my life but in the life of a good friend. After all, I've always been a sucker for weddings.

Pete had picked up a ring while he was in London (we haven't see it yet and can't wait for pictures of it on Liz's finger) and was planning to pop the question this weekend. I anxiously waited till his sms came in late on Saturday night. Robin and I are happy beyond words. P is a darling. He will make a fabulous husband and an adoring Dad. We can't wait to share these new experiences with him.

All this proposing reminded me of our big day. Like everything else in our lives - the planning and intention was rather good though the final execution got a bit chaotic. It was 5th May 2005, like on a number of other days, Robin was picking me up around 6pm, after work. If he was late he usually called and since he hadn't called I had assumed that he would be there at 6. I turned off my computer, picked up my bag and took the elevator to the ground floor - not expecting anything but a normal evening. Maybe Chinese for dinner. 6:15 - I'm thinking of where should we go to eat. 6:30 - I am starting to get a little annoyed that Robin is late and hasn't called but still keeping myself occupied with a chain of thoughts. 6:45 - I'm now a bit mad! Finally I see him pulling up. He is wearing a nicely ironed shirt and black pants. I'd seen him in a Kurta and jeans in the morning. I'm furious that he thought he could keep me waiting while he decided that he felt like a change! A beautiful big bunch of flowers lie on my seat - I ignore it, flip it to the back seat. It has still not clicked that maybe he has something special planned for the evening. I moan and groan.

Robin was still calm, smiling. He apologises for being late. I throw a few dinner options and he nods and grunts a little. He leaves Priya market behind and keeps driving - where are we going? I demand. Now I see him starting to loose his calm a little. We pull into Qutub Institutional Area a wooded enclave (carved out of the Delhi Ridge) of offices, art schools and a monastery. Development Alternatives (DA) - where we worked together - was located here. He pulled into the street on which the monastery was. Robin and I would often walk to the monastery from DA for a cup of coffee and maggie. Yes, the monastery had a lovely cheap coffee shop that baked a cake every day, served instant coffee and spicy maggie. Robin and I got to know each other over these walks to the Monastery. Now I'm a little confused (the monastery doesn't serve dinner. Robin surely knows that I thought), still a bid mad (why can't he just tell me what he is up to?). I'm just about to nag him again when he suddenly stops the car, grabs the flowers from the back seat get on his knees (very uncomfortably since he hadn't assessed just how little space there is in the front seat of the car - he should have just walked around to my side and knelt on the road shouldn't he? Ok, I'll stop putting my silly thoughts on paper now and be a bit more romantic about it all). Where was I, yes, Robin got on his knees, opened the box and asked me to marry him. The nagging me finally smiled. I could hear the wedding bells and some very difficult discussions with my mom - all so exciting!

Book club

2009-03-26T11:24:00.000-07:00

I have been warned by a mom too many about the high probability of addiction to afternoon television while on maternity leave. The never ending soap operas, very dramatic chat shows and dangerous TV shopping channels. When I heard from a friend that she had bought an automatic bin (yes a kitchen bin that senses when it should open and shut!) from one of these channels I decided, given my shopaholic nature, that it was best if I stayed away.

I haven't had too many spare afternoons so far. While Dad and Mom were around it was easy to go out regularly, and since they have left that routine hasn't changed - I seem to be catching up with one friend or another every day. I have something lined up for most of the next few weeks but I'm sure I'll soon have afternoons to worry about (specially on cold windy days like today). Since I am staying away from the telly (well not totally since I am waiting for 24 Season 7 to be out on DVD) I have decided that it will be books that will keep me company in the afternoon.

We have re-started the book club (well to be fair, from the original book club only L and I exist - but I think the constitution of this one is more sustainable). The White Tiger was our first book and we met a few days ago to discuss 'Things fall apart' by Achebe. What a fantastic book - an absolute must read. It has such a captivating plot. Simply brilliant. Full of twists and turns - just when you least expect it. There is something so powerful about using a simple story to communicate the complexities of human nature, customs of an ancient community and disharmony created by 'new ideas'.

Discussing a book with a bunch of friends is fantastic - not just for the yummy food that always accompanies the discussion but also because it pushes me to question the script more than I would if I was reading to pass time on a flight. Well, lets see how well we do with our overambitious 608 page long next book - The savage detectives by Roberto Bolano.

Giving in

2009-03-19T04:41:00.000-07:00

I am just not fond of some of the new age parenting phrases such as 'yummy mummy' or 'play date'. For heaven sake - get kids together and they will play. We all did. Making a big fuss about 'organising' play dates for ones kids seems to take away the beautiful simplicity associated with kids playing together.

There really isn't anything yummy about this far from petite, un-manicured, loud mummy but I do find myself creeping into a lifestyle that these terms symbolise. The one thing I have loved about London over the past three years is how pedestrian friendly it is, how one can walk just about everywhere or use the bus or tube. But suddenly I find myself driving, even to the closest highstreet (baby in the car seat, cheesy radio station on, buggy in the boot - et all), meeting mommies in the park to take our 'buggies' for a walk, doing endless lunches (can you comprehend the concept of spending two hours of a precious working afternoon over lunch and wine?), and sometimes taking an effort with people that I really wouldn't have unless they weren't 'mommies' too. Some of them I don't find very interesting but our kids are in the same age group, she lives in the neighborhood which means we'll bump into each other at the nursery in 9 months time so I might as well be 'practical' about the relationship. 'Monkey music', the music sessions for even 3 month olds; sign language classes, also for infants - all sound very exciting.

I'm not being cynical about the lifestyle. I do, honestly, absolutely love having the time to potter around doing what ever it is I fancy. And I have a buch of friends I enjoy spending time with though I need to be a little more open minded about finding interesing 'mommies' around. In my head I do sometimes wish that it would be great if some of my otherwise employed friends could also have a schedule like mine. For example, Gaya is in town this week and stayed over yesterday - it was great to laze around the house and chat away. I think I'm going to have to convince a few others to take some random days off to entertain this mother daughter pair.

Kiddie parties

2009-03-17T14:03:00.001-07:00

This weekend we went to what was Tarana's first and our introduction to the world of kiddie birthday parties - entertainer, special diets and party food, cake, decorations, return gifts - oh, what an effort it all is!

Pete is also in town this week. It was great spending time with him over the weekend. Back to morning chats over our breakfast counter in the kitchen - it felt like nothing had changed, well other than the occasional cooing by little Tarana.

Terrorism blues

2009-03-11T13:58:00.001-07:00

Robin and I were filling out a visa application form for the UK and were amused by the number of questions around terrorism, genocide, war crimes etc. Questions include "Have you supported or encouraged terrorist activities? Have you expressed views that justify or glorify terrorist violence?" We also had to confirm that our milk guzzling and otherwise asleep daughter has not been associated with war crimes.Does the Home Office really expect to receive applications where terrorists answer 'yes' to these questions?

One of my friends going to India later this month also mentioned a similar experience with the application form for the Indian Visa. Though, of course, our bureaucrats are a lot more direct. "Are you of Pakistani origin? Have you ever held a Pakistani passport?" they ask. Our Foreign Policy isn't very discrete is it?

I do acknowledge the fact that these are a sad reflection of our times. Innocent foodies at the Taj restaurant and sporting Sri Lankan cricketers have all been victims of this terror. I don't think I knew what the word 'terrorist' meant when I was four but I'm pretty sure that most four year old's today would have heard it more than once.

Missing grandparents

2009-03-08T16:53:00.000-07:00

My parents - Tarana's granddad (Nanosa) and grandmom (Nanu) - left a couple of hours ago. This year started with having them with us, so getting back home without them this evening felt very incomplete.The last two months have flown by. I haven't had to 'adjust' to the changes that motherhood brings with it, thanks to my parents. They helped make the transition a wonderful experience. The only person confident enough to tiny Tarana when she was born was Mom. In fact Mom gave her a bath when she was less than 48 hours old - her first bath as hospitals in the UK don't bathe newborns. Tarana loved her morning massage sessions with Nanu - when Mom massaged one leg she would straighten the other one out as if she were saying - "now massage this one!" I have also not struggled with sleepless nights - partially cuz Tarana has quite a decent feeding schedule and partially cuz I have been handing her over after her 6am feed to Dad who wakes up around then. This is when grandfather and granddaughter spent their quality two hours together. The best part was that I could then go back to bed and sleep for another 3 hours - a luxury for a new Mom, I'm sure! Well, actually the absolute best bit is the fact that by the time I would wake up around 900 am, Mom would have already prepared the food for the day! So all I would do is laze around and have my breakfast and then all of us would get ready and head out - to the park, shopping, long drive whatever we fancied that day. Thanks to Dad and Mom, life has been perfect the past few months. All of us, including Tarana, though she probably doesn't know it yet, will miss them enormously.

Friendship

2009-03-03T09:21:00.000-08:00

I did struggle to think of a less cheesy title for this scribble but couldn't come up with anything. Anyway, what I want to write about are not the silly and overly romanticised friendships in this greeting card era ('Archie's world' as we Indian's call it - cuz of the tacky greeting and gift card store called Archies that crowd every little town in our country. Maybe, just maybe, people would have spent more time reading and writing beautiful poetry if they didn't, instead spend it going through the corny rhymes in the cards that fill such stores.) Anyway, I shall stop my rant about Archies and come back to what it was that I really wanted to share.

I have often been part of, but strongly disagreed with conversations where people are reminiscent of the fact that 'one can not make the kind of friends that one made in childhood or at university'. I have some great friends from my childhood and from my days at university and though I only see some of them once a year or less we still share the important and not so important moments of our lives with each other. And though I love and cherish all my old friends I do share as much (and sometimes maybe more given that some of them are physically present in the same city as me) of my life with some of my new ones. Often when we were having these discussions about old and new friends I found it impossible to specify what it was about the old ones that made them so special. Yes, of course there are the experiences themselves - of childhood, of 'the first time we did that', etc. But don't we continue to have and share experiences throughout our lives? Old experiences can't be more significant than the new ones - the birth of my brother was as significant an experience for a 4 year old me as the birth of my own child for a 29 year old me. So if it isn't the experiences or the moments then what is it? While talking to a friend a few days ago I found the answer to my questions - its the time we have to spend with our friends. A number of us saw a lot more of our friends when we were younger or at university. In fact, we saw them everyday. At that stage in life there was no concept of seeing too much of anyone or calling someone before visiting them or even worse 'booking appointments' in our diaries!

An unfortunate consequence of living in a big city is routine. Even though I hate it, I can't help the fact that daily life follows a schedule that is diligently recorded in a calendar. I have to admit that in Robin and my disorganised life it doesn't alwasys. We do try to get to work on time, and maybe couple of times a month we actually do. We do try and get our little girl in bed on time but if we are out or if people are home she doesn't really. I absolutely do respect the fact that some people are organised enough to actually follow a schedule but what annoys me about them is that they miss having quality friends, the kind that they had 'in the good old days!'. After all good friends don't follow a schedule. When I'm feeling alone and want company I call a friend and ask her to come over. We do nothing - just sit on the couch, chat, watch tele, cook, eat etc. Sometimes spend the entire day together. Often there isn't really an 'excuse'. It isn't in our diaries, if one of us has our weekly yoga class to go to we miss it, if our kid had one of their scheduled activities to be taken to we cancel it. For me, once in a while not doing what I do routinely isn't that big a deal. What would be a big deal would be not to have friends to share it all with, to laugh and get drunk with, to sob, argue and make up with. So for those out there who share a big city life and find themselves a slave to a schedule my advice is to love your routine (after all for some people happiness is a choc-o-block calendar) but if you find yourself agonising about your routine it might be time to pick up the phone and organise an impromptu catch up with a good friend.

Pictures from this weekend

2009-03-02T05:11:00.000-08:00

Mother daughter momentsCocktail party fun

Mexican feast

2009-02-23T07:45:00.000-08:00

Lots of cooks, music, chitter chatter and drinks - just the perfect way to end a weekend. Well, at least for those who have to face Mondays. A routine that I have only too happily forgotten! Our cooking get together this weekend was a phenomenal success - all the credit to Rita. The cooking and eating kept us so engrossed and excited that we didn't even watch the Oscars. I guess when a bunch of foodies get together all they can concentrate on is food!It was an exotic spread - cactus in the salad (Nopal), cocoa as the primary base for the chicken (Mole -how often do we enjoy a savory dish made of cocoa), a smokey hot chili (chipotle), and the purple pudding with a tangy red sauce was a beautiful end to a perfect meal. Here's a list of everything we ate - Nopal salad, Mexican tomato rice, Chicken Mole, another sauteed chicken dish, pinto beans, home made corn tortilla (I will struggle to digest the processed packaged tortilla's that I usually buy from the supermarket), chipotle (as an ingredient and also on the side) and a hibiscus pudding.

I'm not sure if its the uncertain weather, the fact that we are a little less mobile because of Tarana or just plain greed - whatever it is it seems like this month is dedicated to food. Next weekend we are having a big cocktail party to celebrate holi. Well ok, its a bit too early, but any excuse to drown ourselves in cocktails is valid isn't it? Mom and dad loved the cocktail party we had the last time they visited so we thought we'd do one before they left. A long list of cocktails is being put together and mom has already put together her menu of yummy home made HorsD'Oeuvres / Canapes.