Joy in the day-to-day

 As one grows older, one begins to get wisdom - or so they claim. I am just left with more unanswered questions and fewer definite answers. I write less, I exercise less, I play less, I eat less, I spend less on myself. The only thing that being an older adult and all that it entails have left me is more work. As a kid I thought that the adults have everything. But now I find that the opposite is true. Adults have a lot of work and responsibilities and very less enjoyment, true enjoyment, that we experienced as kids. I assume that once I become a true old lady - in my 60's maybe , If I live that long and retire from a full time job, I may have more time on my hands to do as I see fit, but I doubt it. By then, I would hopefully be a grandmother, and grandmothers have a lot of work too. But, I digress. 

Enjoyment in the small things: Are the longer lived years making us more jaded compared to kids where a lot of experiences are new? And with time, will we lose more of our joie de verve and be filled with ennui for life? Is this why some older people get religious- seeking God as a way to feel some joy? Also, Is this why  some older people get better at accepting the concept of death? Aaah, I'm so bored with this world, I might as well go?  

I am trying to understand joy and the pull this emotion has on us, to keep us tethered in this realm. I am trying to find a way to keep joy in my life and clearly failing miserably as a lot of things feel designed to pull me down. All I'm left with is weird pondering that goes nowhere. And then I get back to my chores. Aah, the humdrum of middle class life with middle class concerns, time tables to be followed, lunches to be packed and meetings that need attending and people who need to be called back. What would we do without you all?  

Life will go on.....

 Life must go on. Haven’t we seen enough movies set in post-apocalyptic worlds to know this truth? Even setting aside the jokes, in living memory, human beings have always found a way to cling to life – floods have comes, earth quakes and tsunamis, but life finds a way. It always does.

So even though this past two years has felt like the end of the world, it is not really the end. Well, You (reader) and I might still die due to covid, people around us, our loved ones, friends and extended family, will still live on to do stupid things another day. 

Small comfort, but we should take them where we find them, no?

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? 

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!

Marriage is not for everyone

This is something I still believe in, now having been married for a while. It is HARD. And the good parts of marriage (whatever they might be for each person) do not necessarily score out the bad parts. And it is not for everyone, especially if one looks at marriage as a true partnership of two individuals as a way to form a family.

 Not everyone is made for such an existence, however much society wants everyone to conform to the unit/institution it has set up as the best way of managing disorder, chaos and anarchy- the dissenting , individualistic, non-conformist thought thinking, ‘I can be a part of  this society -even though I don’t like your ways of keeping order and organisation and will abstain from participating in some processes’ people by forcing, cajoling, convincing them into marriage, and then keeping them there by the pull of the emotional bonds that living in small units(forming a socially constructed ‘family’) and having progeny with a long term partner, create.

And now there are more and more options for people who do not subscribe to society’s way of making one live in a way that is easy for society to compartmentalise and disregard – “ OK, he seems to be following our rules, let’s move on to the next guy/girl to harass.”

Otherwise - “Oh, you have two wives? That is not cool, not acceptable. You say they have no problem with it, and happily co-exist in the same house? Sorry, that is not good enough assurance. This is wrong according to our rules. You want to live here, then lose one of them...” or “You have an adopted child? And you are single? Your parents are okay with this? But a man cannot look after a child by himself, that just is not allowed.  Either get married, or you have to return the child to the agency you got it from, I mean, unacceptable,” or “You are gay? You will go to jail if you have sex with a man in this country, ” or “ You are co-habiting with a man you are not married to? Shame, shame. We will proceed to give you so much trouble that you run back to your mama,” is how society scared people into following its tunes.

In spite of this, due to increased financial availability for all in the post LPG era, people have the luxury of choosing a lifestyle that they are happy with, instead of the factory produced, ‘Dad, Mom and 2.3 kids’ (Whatever the current number is.) that may not be their poison. They may choose to die a slow death in some other manner of their own choosing. 

Life in Pune

Well, life here is not all that different from life in Chennai in the most basic of senses. The kids here have the same angst, possesive bf/gf issues, transparent bra straps for low cut tops and halters (since - "oh! how can you not wear one?????" Doesnt matter even if you are a size 30 or 32 and it doesnt really matter. Or if you switch to strapless bras - then - "Oh! I hope that is your bra's top line, I mean, you obviously can't be not wearing one," accompanied by a sickly sweet smile), PGs are usually dirty, hardly maintainenced and dilapilated flats/bungalows breathing their last, etc etc
So, all in all, situation for youngsters from outside is pretty much the same as in any cosmopolitan city.

Of course there are differences : While Chennai has a decent immigrant student population, Pune overflows with it. read somewhere that urban Pune population is more than 60% students. Dark, pale and all shades in between, hunky guys and very consciously preening girls strut down streets. This city is what guys/girls from small towns would report to their homies in a gushy tone, 'Dude, so many fucking hot chicks,' or, 'machan....oorellam orae super figurudaa' . You get my point. You can replace this with its hindi or feminine version.

For me, the good difference is that alcohol is cheaper, not that Ive had much time to experiment with it. I guess now that ragging ( what 'they' refer to euphemistically as the informal induction 'process') is finally over, with its attendant assignment writing and hunting for bizzaire accesories and clothes -for the dress code, we will have some time to explore the pubs and clubs in and around Pune.

Went to Papa Johns a coupla days ago. My first time since coming back to India, umm, the cheese really does melt, and in copious amounts. Then we went to a hookah bar. In the spirit of properly trying things, I learnt how to inhale the smoke. There was a nice Paan flavour in one, and the experts in our group also picked an orange mint thingy, which wasnt as good.

Needless to add, the tobacco went straight to my head. Since, Ive had no previous exposure to tobacco, I understand it gets to one quick. Left the place feeling sick and happy. (I've heard thats what tobacco does, but never really understood it.) Now I know better. The happy is the slight intoxication due to the tobacco content in the hookah, and the sick is a kind of vague nausea underneath the happy. I also read somewhere that when an addict goes cold turkey on ciggies, the sick and happy turns to sick and unhappy very quickly. Don't think I'm going to be a big fan of hookahs. The nausea was not a good feeling. Give me alcohol any day!

The language is a problem for those who dont know Marathi, but imagine my plight, not even being able to converse in Hindi! Atleast I can understand the language, thanks to umpteen bollywood movies, and cousins raised in the north. I am trying to learn the hindi script now. Unlike Tamil nadu, road and shop signs do not include the English version. Even buses proudly proclaim their numbers and routes only in Hindi and Marathi. Hence the urgent need to learn Hindi.

More later.

Of dating three men at the same time

Technically, it is two boys and one man....and when I say dating, I am talking about exactly that. Pleasant conversation, food, and the occasional movie. I have not slept with any of the three of them and I do not plan to, at least not in the near future...

I have realised that the axe will fall shortly...and I will stick my head into the "mangalsutra' noose very soon...and am exercising my right to choose, before my parents do it for me.

So I am considering my options....and meeting men who ask me out...being set up at times, if you will...and all the boys/men I meet seem pleasant enough. But is this one the one? Is he worth spending time with? are the questions I am plagued with...

As the risk of thinking corny...I think of the 'So, when do you know its love?' tag line of jaane tu ya jaane na'...except I have no lofty ideals of love....but the line doesnt sound as effective when you substitute 'love' with 'true companionship' does it ?

Choices, choices!