90 days of Social Distancing and Where are we?

I live in one of those big fat apartment complexes that have sprouted like mushrooms all around the outskirts of our metros - 1300 odd apartments and about 5000 residents - which is community living at its best (Imagine an eye-roll here) . As you have surmised, I'm not a complete convert, even if I agree that apartment complex living comes with a host of advantages. I may be able to make my peace with a row house in a gated community, which at least gives an illusion of independence and agency ( You wouldn't believe the rules we have to abide by in apartment living - if you have never lived in one. And the rules have only become more draconian after the imposing of lockdown)

In anycase, when I moved in here as a newly wed, courtesy of flat-brat hubby( Which is derogatory for born and raised in an apartment- in case you're curious) I hated it with no reservations. This was a haven. But it was not meant for me. It was meant for families - not for a lonesome twosome who had way too much time on their hands and wanted the restaurants, clubs and youthful social life that living inside the bustle of the city brings. Which this was so not. This place comes with two huge parks ( Sand + swings+ slides+climbing wall+ Mini Jungle gym etc etc) . There are grassed play areas - for cricket, football and all sorts of play) , badminton courts, basketball court, tennis courts and club house has so many toddler to tween classes that they need a separate manager for those classes) and a walking trail surrounded by beautifully landscaped trees, bushes and flowering plants that was more than a kilometer around.

 I felt very out of place, because children and old people were completely occupied here - and the middle aged - the kids' parents, were completely engrossed in ferrying them around and forming a social life with the other parents and the grandparents had their own circles of grandparents. Married and without kids were an oddity and had nothing in common with the other adults living here.

But, now I have two children, and thanks to my fore-thinking husband- they have an amazing life. They are never bored. They have friends to play with anytime they care to step out of the door. At least, until the corona scare started, the kids practically lived downstairs .( with adult supervision, of course) They are growing up speaking five languages instead of one which we didn't unless we went to an English medium school - and then we grew up speaking two. They have access to being grubby with sand, like we grew up in the 80s and 90s. They have access to slides and swings which most of us didn't have ready access to when we were kids. ( I had to hike to the community park a kilometer away when I was a child). It seems like an amazing meld of two ways of life- the old and the new. They are privileged indeed, being exposed to the living styles of Punjabis, Manipuris, Maharashtrians, Konkanis, Keralites, name a state and my older child can name a friend from there.
 (Well, this is south India after all, so I think the N.E states are not completely represented. But there may only two two missing out of the seven)

But, the past 90 days have left the place eerily empty. There are rules and they are strictly enforced. Atleast in the initial lockdown (you know, 1.0? ) kids just weren't allowed out. No walking, no jogging, no gym, no badminton, no community activity of any sort for  adults. No maids- coz who knows if they are carriers. ( Insert eyeroll here ) Over cautious much management committe? ( and before you think, classist managament committee, also no courier, no delivery of any sort, no trainers, no tuition, no group classes , nothing breached the complex other than essential services -namely groceries and veggies and milk during lockdown 1.0.) Managing kids, job ( yup, that didn't stop, being part of the essential services and all -banking, ) cooking, cleaning shopping and all miscellany without a maid told me that I made the right decision in coming back to India. USA, hmmm, not for the weak willed and weaker backed.

In anycase , we are living in an enclosed campus with 5000 odd people. And this lockdown has taught me, that we are just as alone as we would be in an independant house. We may share walls here, but not lives. It's each family for itself in these uniquely challenging times. We are all neighbours afraid of one another , afraid for our own vulnerable, the old and the young. And we are all left with just a few common questions, will this corona fear subside? Can there be an effective treatment protocol for the old people and those with existing diseases that are now resulting in death?  And the most burning burning question - Will there be a good vaccine ?  When? 

The compulsion of the first baby and the choice of the second

I am now mother to two children. As I see a lot of my peers going through a choice - of whether to have a child at all, or two, or in rare cases, three - all valid and right choices, I wonder about the factors that drive these choices.

Free availability of money is clearly a factor as is parental or in-law support for the raising of children , especially for working mothers. Not to mention, physical ability to have one of course - this is an issue as old as time - fertility. And mental fortitude to actually raise the child/children one has, instead of running off to Kasi or to a far off relative's house, to an isolated tropical island - which all mothers and fathers get tempted to at some point, depending on the weight of their purse.

In the way I see it, for most Indians of the child bearing age, the first child seems to be almost a compulsion - the biological imperative - to reproduce and propagate the species - though they don't think of their choice to have a child in those words, for sure. The intense need to experience motherhood (and Fatherhood too, though it is less articulated) feels very real , personal and an independant animal in itself, to be explained in such prosaic terms such as "propagate the species." The woman or man, doesn't ever think that that is indeed what she/he is doing- for the intense need to have a child is a very selfish , personal expression of themselves - such is the way the individual mind is designed to fool itself so that the species benefits. How devious is nature or God, huh? ( What ever designed life according to your belief system).

But, the interesting thing is the choice to have a second child. It is hard to predict which way a couple goes as far as having a second child is concerned. People who grew up happily with siblings most likely make the choice to have another child. People who grew up as single kids feel that they weren't denied anything special and make the choice to stop with one. Going through a few more years of sleepless nights is not something anyone decides about lightly, especially in this day of easy living. As a generation, most of us din't do hard labour as children or as teens outside or even in our own homes, and raising a small baby, especially the first couple of years, is indeed hard labour. And who wants to sign up for that unless absolutely necessary?

As we all look for reasons to make ourselves feel letter about the choices we make, this Covid-19 lockdown, has shown me something that I always felt to be true. Imagine keeping a single child occupied for 3-4 months inside the house! I see my friends, colleagues and neighbours with single kids. And I see those children growing more and more isolated in their homes. How much of the parent's time and effort goes into making sure the child stays engaged and not getting upto naughtiness or just getting stuck on the TV or Laptop or phone screens?

 But, we made the choice to have two. And now, they play with each other, talk to each other, engage each other in conversation. And my work in making sure the house is not a prison for them is cut in half. They have each other, as playmates. They have each other to learn from. They have each other to fight with and make up with. And hopefully they will grow up with each other and enrich each other's lives. And we, my husband and I, never need fear the lockdowns or the quarantines or even the bunkers, as far as the kids are concerned.

Book names that stay with you

I once read a book called - "Floating Turds". I kid you not.

I remember that I read it over a weekend trip to an area where my family had lived in the past, when I had been a kid. My memories of the place and the people there have all been formed during the visits there, and nothing from the time of residing there. I had been very young, clearly.

In any case, this particular trip happened when I was almost in college, and I remember being insufferably stand-offish and bemoaning the idea of going back to this strange, old industrial township. I say strange because its a small town, a walled-off to outsiders small town and everyone knows everyone. Only people who worked in the PSU there and their families lived there. My father had worked there for a while when I had been a toddler and had a lot of friends. So, we were visiting, again.

The thing was, the kids that I played with on my trips back had all flown their nests the previous year, or were in the process of fleeing their small town existence that summer. And so, the trip was a waste, for me and my sister. And for my parents as well, because every house we visited had depressed parents talking about the kids who left, or who were so eager to leave, it made my parents feel bad for their friends.

The weekend was made worse by PMS and the acidity produced by the painkiller I was taking for the pain. So, I remember that I had stuffed a library book in my bag and pull it out. It had the strangest title, and it had been mere curiosity that had made me borrow it - how could someone get a reader for a book with such a title, I remember wondering as I scanned it out. Well, the writer had people like me to thank, I guess. The curiosity in humanity would never cease.

The book, notwithstanding its unappealing, nay, fairly disgusting title, was not a bad read. It was set in Los Angeles with an outsider vs insiders plot arc. Kind of Cecilia Ahern-ish minus Ireland.  The story happened amidst the shiny people of showdom and their preoccupation with the newest in -thing. Which happened to be a book about turds and whether one's poop floated or not. I kid you not.

Now eye-grabby titles are all the rage. But back when I'm talking about, fifteen odd years ago (This was an old book I had borrowed- so add another 5-10 years to arrive at the publishing and import date) , this book title, at least for India, was scandalous. I wondered who let this book come into the country and if they even knew what the word 'turd' meant.

So, while the book was an average read, the title clearly stands as a memorable one. It occurs to me that most people would have read such books in their past, where the Title called out to us, while the substance didn't match up. Kind of like a lukewarm date with a great looking person.

Mommy trials - Is breast the best?

I have read a lot, I mean, a lot, of parenting websites before giving birth. I thought forewarned is forearmed and so read everything I was recommended about pregnancy and parenting. I was full of facts and figures about pregnancy, pre-term labour, symptoms of pre-eclampsia, views of both the camps in the epidural or no- epidural debate (I'm a wuss about pain, guess what I chose?) , chances of cord-wrapped-around-neck - you name it- and I had read something about it.

But when I got to being the mommy part- after my child was born, I was stumped. I guess this is a malady amongst women of my generation, of these years, in the early Twenty-First century, give or take a couple decades depending upon the stage of development(read access to the internet) in the country. We get to soak in information by the Mbps full, we just don't think about what such a life-changing experience will actually do to our lives.

I see that younger girls in any family are better prepared because they see the older ones go through this. But most families have one or two children at most and so, most girls, are girls with no immediate woman family member go through the process of emerging motherhood in front of their eyes after they are grown up enough to appreciate this.  So they go through this process for the first time by themselves with no benchmarks/goal posts/I'm so fucking this up - in sight. But that is different story for a different day.

My main problem happened with breast-feeding - but it is not the problem itself that is my issue. It is the die-hards I had read before who had been insisting that this is the only way to parent- breatsfeeding or no feeding at all(starving baby will learn to latch on) road- and whose voices are the most stringent in the online motherhood, babyhood, early days, etc portals. I was so taken in by their argument, that I had, in my best intentions towards my as yet unborn child and worst inexperience with little humans and how they never do what you would reasonably expect them to - and hence the problems that might come my way, insisted that I would not buy and take a bottle and formula to the hospital along with all other supplies.

Alas, my child just would not latch on. No matter what I tried. Throw in hormones, tiredness from the pushing the 3.8kg baby out, and the bleeding and the soreness due to the stitches - oh yeah, the worst parts in the "What to expect while expecting" are all true. And I tried. So hard. I met three lactation consultants and was pushed and poked and squeezed - oh yeah- another thing they don't tell women who are about to be mothers- nope, breasts are no more about sex or sexiness- they are now baby-nutrition-machines and all sorts of women will take amazing liberties with them - nurses, doctors, visiting aunties and grandmas, servant maids, basically almost every woman who has been a mother and can claim to be an Indian, thinks she's an expert on breast-feeding and will try to help. By suggesting ways to hold baby, ways to put breast into baby's mouth, how to keep it there, how to stop a baby who won't release its hold, etc.

 We, my baby and I, eventually overcame our latching issues - but only after weeks of tears (Oh, why won't the baby latch on?) "Its been a whole day, we have to feed the baby something" to weeks of pain ( Where is the nipple-cream??? Arghhh), Let's try nipple shields, Breast - Pumping? Nope,  nothing works, to overflow problems ("I'm leaking again, where's the baby?"). We went through the whole gamut along with loss of hunger and hair(for me- the kid was just fine) due to the stress, the blues, the doubting Thomases, more blues, the breast-squeezing-and-shoving-it-into-baby's-mouth aunties, hassle of getting the birth certificate, sitting down and getting up, etc

Which is why I say - screw it! Is breastmilk good for the child? Undoubtedly. Is it necessary? Nope. Is formula easier? Yes. Is sterilising easy? Nope. Highly time consuming, monotonous, and if you don't do it right- the bottles become petri dishes. Want to do a bit of both types? Sure, why not? But if the kid gets too attached to one way, you can't get it to switch ways easily.

Any way you chose is likely to be stressful, and there is no right way. In all this stress, you only lose out on the sweet, innocent, beautiful baby's first few days, which will never come back.

Just pick your way, don't stress, and most importantly, don't judge a woman who picks a way different from yours and force your way down her throat or more aptly, down her baby's throat.

Baby happy and healthy? You are set.

Happy motherhood ladies!

The slow demise of the die-hard Rajini fan

I saw Lingaa recently and it was at  multiplex in Bangalore and maybe the location played a role in my experience, but I don't think it did. I think the whole Rajini movie watching experience has been changing slowly but surely over the years. And here I'm not speaking about the first day-first show( many first shows, given the advent of the multi-plex) experience, where  no matter the quality of the movie, the joint mob-feeling of euphoria and screaming establish the atmosphere of the movie-watching experience. I'm  talking about going to the theater a week after the film has been released, because you want to enjoy a thalaivar movie without the noise and really enjoy the punch dialogues and the masterful way in which he subdues the villains, helps the needy and the poor and basically gives you a warm fuzzy glow while exiting the movie hall, like Arunachalam, Basha, Shivaji, etc did for us.

I'm guessing that a lot of people are thinking this after watching Lingaa, but only a few are saying it, maybe because of a lingering sense of the years of hero-worship that they have done for the Super-Star of Tamil Nadu stops them from uttering such sacrilegious thoughts- It's time that our Thalaivar hung up his hero-role boots and do what actors do - act in roles instead of being the role the movie is written for and around.

Sonakshi Sinha is younger than both of Thalaivar's daughters and I guess that Anushka Shetty is about the same age, or at most, a year or two older than his eldest. It is quite disheartening to see him dance around with these young girls. One might argue that many heroes of the past have done the same, but that does not mean that it was tasteful or easy to consume for the fans. Those heroes who did it in the black and white era got away with it easier because of the forgiving nature of the technology in those times. But with extra high definition picture quality available these days, the camera is unforgiving in its capture of every skin crease, fold and frailty in movement, especially when trying to bust a move that the hero might have pulled off with elan twenty years ago.

Fans of this era who are more aware of alternate offerings of entertainment might choose to consume those than watch a Thalaivar movie. What Amithabh Bachchan learnt with his last few movies as a hero is what our Rajni Sir needs to learn, but I really don't want to watch our Thalaivar go through that painful experience. I wish that he would understand it by having watched his friends and switch over gracefully to roles that suit his age and gravitas. And that means eschewing young heroines completely in his movies, unless it is a movie like Cheeni Kum where the story mandates an older man and a younger woman falling in love. Else, unless his directors cast age-appropriate leading ladies, his movies are going to disenchant first and then slowly lose him his fan base.

First time author Abirami M.Krishnan's debut novel hits the stands in one week's time (Drum roll)...& also eye-roll

That is the cover of my brand new, dare I say it, debut novel. I am afraid to use the word 'debut'. It implies that there are more to come. I hope that there are. In fact, I have another manuscript all ready in the rough that needing a lot of editing and rewriting, but, I'm superstitious by nature         (Don't tell my supposedly rational side), and I don't want to jinx it. 

Anyway, this one is being published by Hachette India and will be(finally) available in bookstores from the 25th of May. It is already available on pre-order from many, many online retailers. Check it out! 

P.S: Blurb and back cover coming soon.

P.P.S: Links to Flipkart, Amazon, Corssword, Infibeam, etc etc...can all be found on search

Laundering the news. And man, do we need it!

I have been working for the past few months at a job where I spend most of my day working on television news. Because of that, I see how skewed the news presented in our television channels is. It is biased news, paid news, infotainment and mostly, not really news.

 I accidentally stumbled upon this site called Newslaundry where they actually wash the news and give it in as neutral a manner as possible. They skewer everyone equally, the Congress, the BJP and even the AAP.

And they have several news based videos in their TeeVee section, like Clothesline, I agree and Can You Take It? 

If you are fond of news as it should be, as opposed to being a Times of India reader, then this site is for you. (And no, I am not being paid to promote their site on my blog :- ) I am a genuine fan)