tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-60880099222424026352024-03-14T00:19:05.364+05:30Parul and more...Mother, daughter, wife, sister, best friend, daughter in law - I am all of these! But these are mere names that eventually make me as a Person. This blog is a journey of how these various roles pave the way of my everyday life. I will use optimism, patience, fun, facts,hopes, experiences and more but I will never preach :)Parul Tyagihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08112145796387536421noreply@blogger.comBlogger93125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6088009922242402635.post-69199456615536862922017-02-02T12:03:00.000+05:302017-02-02T12:03:51.438+05:30The 5 kind of people I am jealous of<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
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In my "I am Human' series, today I talk about the kind of people I am extremely jealous of. There is no sarcasm here as I am truly jealous of these people because I can never be like them and they do seem to be having fun while they are being who they are.<br />
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If you are one or two or all of them, always remember, someone, somewhere is extremely envious of your awesomeness!<br />
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<a href="https://pbs.twimg.com/media/CHunwdeXAAIxyAB.png" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img alt="Image result for not getting out of bed" border="0" height="158" src="https://pbs.twimg.com/media/CHunwdeXAAIxyAB.png" width="320" /></a>1) <b>Morning </b>people: My perennial fight in life is to wake up in the mornings. I hate the compulsory ritual of getting out of bed- every day, every single day. And there are people who are longing to wake up early, eat early, bathe early, start their day early and what not! As I am someone, rolling in the bed, hiding my face from the morning sun (because my early riser husband pulls apart the curtains in a hope that I will realize the 'beauty' of waking up at an insane hour!), wondering- why cant Mornings start around Noon?<br />
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<a href="https://s-media-cache-ak0.pinimg.com/736x/d5/49/2c/d5492c853b73c91de5b9fa4aeb9baa1f.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img alt="Image result for lazy cat" border="0" height="200" src="https://s-media-cache-ak0.pinimg.com/736x/d5/49/2c/d5492c853b73c91de5b9fa4aeb9baa1f.jpg" width="133" /></a><br />
2)<b> Exercising </b>people: So I did maintain a strict Yoga regime for a year but then it all faded away like those umpteen gym subscriptions. Partly the reason was Delhi winters as our instructor insists Yoga must be done in an open space (for all the oxygen we could suck in before office goers take out their cars to pollute the world). Now, every morning while sipping coffee in my balcony, when I see my Yoga mates still going on strong, I am jealous. You go girls as my blanket beckons its owner.<br />
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<a href="https://s-media-cache-ak0.pinimg.com/736x/78/57/bb/7857bb5ad5b9e9538fc7d70464e42f55.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img alt="Image result for cat with book" border="0" height="194" src="https://s-media-cache-ak0.pinimg.com/736x/78/57/bb/7857bb5ad5b9e9538fc7d70464e42f55.jpg" width="200" /></a><br />
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3) <b>Reading </b>people: I read a lot. But then I don't think I read enough (all us readers feel the same I guess as there is nothing like- too many books). But trust me, I am extremely jealous of people who have read more books than I have. Nothing impresses me more than a well read person and I try sincerely to always be in the middle of an awesome book, at all points in my life.<br />
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" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img alt="Image result for fat cat thin cat" border="0" height="133" 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" width="200" /></a>4)<b> Thin</b> people: Especially those ones who eat more food everyday than I can eat in a week and still remain thin! I am married to someone who belongs to the category of 'these people' and trust me, I am facing real difficulties coping up with: <i>"Saurabh is getting younger by the day?" </i>Its not HIM. Its me who is naturally growing old and because his genes do not let him gain any weight, he looks shrunken in my company.<br />
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" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img alt="Image result for shocked cat" border="0" height="149" 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" width="200" /></a>5)<b> 'I have all the time in the world' </b>people: Time to sulk, time to pray, time to click pictures, time to try a new dish in the kitchen, time to climb the Everest, time to gossip, time to shop, time to even shop online, time to watch movies, time to crib, time to do check-ins on Facebook- I seriously have lots of people around me who seem to have way too much time on their hands. I sadly have only 24 hours in a day and because of my ill luck, they too magically get over in 10 I think. How do some people pack so much in one day?<br />
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<div class="blogger-post-footer"><a href="http://www.blogadda.com" title="Visit blogadda.com to discover Indian blogs"> <img src="http://www.blogadda.com/images/blogadda.png" width="80" height="15" border="0" alt="Visit blogadda.com to discover Indian blogs" /></a></div>Parul Tyagihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08112145796387536421noreply@blogger.com10tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6088009922242402635.post-60589958047357852222016-12-21T19:34:00.000+05:302016-12-21T21:55:20.416+05:305 lies I tell my children<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
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<a href="https://2.bp.blogspot.com/-JB2WA2B8XVA/WFqGgw8RpVI/AAAAAAAAYhc/NvS_F140SKI8U8VZZvuitZrmdNNiOZYRQCLcB/s1600/lies.jpeg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" height="192" src="https://2.bp.blogspot.com/-JB2WA2B8XVA/WFqGgw8RpVI/AAAAAAAAYhc/NvS_F140SKI8U8VZZvuitZrmdNNiOZYRQCLcB/s320/lies.jpeg" width="320" /></a>I am a human being and lying is my defense mechanism at times. Just like it is for all you people. Yes I am a Mum too and teach my kids to never lie to me but c'mom- we all lie to our kids. It could be something as simple as Santa Claus exists to as complex as them getting a long nose if they lied.</div>
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Following are my lies to V and N and I am recording them here so when they read this later on, they can say- <span style="color: red;"><b>MOM! You too??</b></span></div>
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<b>1) That I love them. Like every single minute of the day</b></div>
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No, I do not. There are moments when I cant stand their sight! 'Hate' is a strong word but yes I definitely do not enjoy being a Mum at times. Like when they have created some trouble at school or when they used to get vaccine shots. The truth is that I even forget them sometimes. There have been days when I got so involved in a call or my mails that I forgot its time to rush to their Bus Stop to fetch them (God is great! I have always either made it in time or just in time)</div>
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<b>2) That I regret not eating raw onions.</b></div>
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If you don't know me you should know that I have a weird habit- I cannot eat raw onions- like in salads or vegetables. Basically if I can see onion pieces, I wont eat that stuff. As V and N grew up to understand this silly fetish, many conversations around our Dining Table were around this- 'Papa why dont you force Ma to eat onions when you force us to eat beetroot!' Saurabh, while applying the- <i>we will not contradict each other in front of kids</i>- rule stays quiet but I lie to them every single time: "I regret not eating it, kids. Its my biggest regret. It has made my life so tough. Don't want you to have any regrets in life.'</div>
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Truth: I am okay not eating them! Like totally okay!</div>
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<b>3) That we are poor!</b></div>
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I actually have to tell them this a lot of times. Like they definitely know that Ambani is the richest guy in India and our neighbors, who have three cars, are somewhere between us and Ambani. We have to tell them that there are a lot of things we cannot afford (even when we can) to teach them value of money. But then I myself grew up thinking that my parents were poorer than all my friends' parents!</div>
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<b>4) That we sleep right after they sleep!</b></div>
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Of course we don't. At least I DO NOT. So we do switch off the TV and sometimes even the lights in our room (just so they retire) but when they have slept (which is within seconds) I sneak out for some TV time or Saurabh and I eat Ice Cream on the bed!</div>
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<b>5) That we never fought with our siblings!</b></div>
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My most used words to my kids are: "STOP Fighting you guys! Why cant you love each other like I loved Mama??" </div>
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Truth:We fought as much, if not more. Rahul (my brother) has given me a lot of choke slams. I have pulled his hair several times. Saurabh too has beaten Surbhi Di (my sister in law) on many occasions and I am sure she has fought back too. Basically, just to pacify them whenever I say this lie, all my fights come flashing to my mind. I also know that the first person who will make V and N read all these lies is- RAHUL- how can a true blue sibling ever let a revenge taking opportunity pass?</div>
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<div class="blogger-post-footer"><a href="http://www.blogadda.com" title="Visit blogadda.com to discover Indian blogs"> <img src="http://www.blogadda.com/images/blogadda.png" width="80" height="15" border="0" alt="Visit blogadda.com to discover Indian blogs" /></a></div>Parul Tyagihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08112145796387536421noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6088009922242402635.post-51314663910625745482016-12-13T10:17:00.001+05:302016-12-13T14:46:52.945+05:30That ONE thing I am going to teach my kids as a parent<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
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There are lots of articles and opinions on that ONE thing that every parent should teach their child as part of good parenting. But is there that one quality which will make our children the best human beings? Is there a magic potion which can turn everything around them nice and bearable? Is there that one gift or that one lesson which you can hand over to your children so your duty towards their upbringing is complete?</div>
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<a href="https://2.bp.blogspot.com/-mTap6Ry0TAU/WE92C-G0rKI/AAAAAAAAYKI/CDLuS7g1jyQT6s-4s_dO0bh3shiShpO6gCLcB/s1600/blog.png" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" height="228" src="https://2.bp.blogspot.com/-mTap6Ry0TAU/WE92C-G0rKI/AAAAAAAAYKI/CDLuS7g1jyQT6s-4s_dO0bh3shiShpO6gCLcB/s320/blog.png" width="320" /></a>As parents, Saurabh and I are constantly evolving to teach V and N newer and better things which equips them for life. There are times we want them to be honest and at other times we want them to be brave. Some times we teach them not to hate anything and at other, we want them to love themselves. But till a few days back, at least I was clueless if there is one personality trait which could make them the best boys ever and which I could engrave in them so they can get by life as people who others love, only love.</div>
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I am glad that I have cracked it and I thought I should share because if some other parents agree with me, we can actually achieve our dream of a nicer world for our children.</div>
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So I recently got back from a trip to Vaishno Devi. Due to some strange cosmic conspiracy my every trip to the shrine is laden with a lot of stories. Even though we opted for the chopper service (to cut short the trip and have maximum amount of convenience) there were some developments courtesy IRCTC- because like fools we trusted the current Railway Minister's tall Twitter claims and took a direct train to Katra- that left us troubled. On the onward journey we were left without food and in the inward, the train was delayed by six hours and had no water in washrooms, basins and you can only imagine the kind of filth that was accumulating around us. Why just inside? Train journeys give you the best reality check about the apathetic conditions that your countrymen are living in when you peep outside. Their living conditions assure you that India can never ever become a first world country because some of our own people are living in literal shit holes.</div>
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I do not want to get into the 'bads' of the trip because at some point of time you have all experienced this. What truly was the highlight of the trip was that one awakening I got which I think has helped me as a mother of two kids- I finally found that one trait which I should pass on to my children.</div>
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There are three incidents which cemented my belief in this trait:</div>
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1) A fellow passenger on our Delhi-Katra train who went out of his way to ensure we reached Katra on time (as the train was indefinitely late and we got off at Jammu because he was a local and extended help). He not only got us a cab, he stood there, seeing us off and stayed in touch ensuring we had reached fine and if we needed anything on our way back.</div>
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2) My Dad assuring the porters we met at the Helipad, who told him how demonetization was affecting their earnings and took their services (paying them extra) even when we didn't really need them.</div>
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3) The appalling state of people who live in slums around Railway tracks and the cringing feeling to do something about them as they need the attention of their fellow citizens because governments have definitely failed them.</div>
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What is that one thing that binds the above three incidents? It is Kindness. I have resolved to make V and N <b>kind</b> before they become anything else. They can get low scores in their exams, they can fail in sports, they can be fussy eaters and they can totally make some mistakes but I believe that if they are kind, everything will eventually be fine. When they are around, people should feel comfortable. All their actions should touch lives. They should have a kind heart that is sensitive about wrongs around them and urges them to do something about it. People should trust them for their thoughtfulness and know that they ll make everything alright.</div>
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How to do it? Lead by example. We need to, as parents, set examples around them so they value how our kindness changed someone's life. We should share with them how someone else's kind gesture made a difference to our lives. We need to tell them that sometimes they will have to think about others before them. We need to assure them that if everyone becomes kind hearted, the troubles of this world will be lesser. </div>
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I am on it, you should start too :)</div>
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<div class="blogger-post-footer"><a href="http://www.blogadda.com" title="Visit blogadda.com to discover Indian blogs"> <img src="http://www.blogadda.com/images/blogadda.png" width="80" height="15" border="0" alt="Visit blogadda.com to discover Indian blogs" /></a></div>Parul Tyagihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08112145796387536421noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6088009922242402635.post-174641233203898562016-10-18T16:38:00.001+05:302016-10-18T16:45:08.241+05:30A letter of empathy for men on Karwa-What?<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
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All you married men,</div>
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<a href="https://4.bp.blogspot.com/-BspDB0cScQo/WAYByeEi6MI/AAAAAAAAWO8/PrFSxlhhlMAuuZTYxkB4tCf73B3z_XktgCLcB/s1600/images.jpe" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em; text-align: justify;"><img border="0" height="212" src="https://4.bp.blogspot.com/-BspDB0cScQo/WAYByeEi6MI/AAAAAAAAWO8/PrFSxlhhlMAuuZTYxkB4tCf73B3z_XktgCLcB/s320/images.jpe" width="320" /></a>How are you feeling right now? Guilty, scared, obliged or worried? Why have I mentioned all these seemingly negative words? Because while your woman will cope with hunger, you will be dealing with them as well as their hunger :)</div>
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Don't you always get confused as to what is the right thing to say to them at this time, when they are at their volatile best? No matter what you say, the conversation always leads to a point where you look like the guy who FORCED your wives to fast. As if it is not their will but a task! </div>
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Depending on the time of the day, aren't these the typical conversations? </div>
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<b>You could say</b>- What's Karwachauth got to do with our love? No need to fast at all.</div>
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<b>She will say</b>- I want to do it. I am going to do it. You just do not understand the meaning of these traditions. That's why men don't ever fast for their wives right?</div>
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<b>You could say</b>- Please don't kill yourself babe. Eat fruits or take tea.</div>
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<b>She will say</b>- I am fasting here and you don't even want me to do it properly. You just do not care about my feelings for you.</div>
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<b>You could say- </b>Good stuff girl. You are doing a good job. You look quite strong.</div>
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<b>She will say- </b>See! You cannot even see how weak I am right now without water and you think I am absolutely okay about it.</div>
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<b>You could say-</b> Let me make it better for you. We will go for Italian after you see the moon.</div>
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<b>She will say-</b> The moon will come late. Very late. And then i will be so hungry that I could eat leaves too. Why do you always want to eat out on those days when I am not up for it!</div>
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<b>You could say- </b>You want me to fast with you?</div>
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<b>She will say- </b>Oh, No No. Chill. I know you love me. (But in her heart she is envious of all the friends whose husbands are fasting)</div>
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<b>You could then say-</b> You are not like other women who blackmail their husbands to stay hungry too.</div>
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<b>She will say-</b> Its called love. Not blackmailing!</div>
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Basically, tomorrow is YOUR day but not YOUR day!</div>
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I feel for you because I am someone's wife too and I am all set to exercise my Nagging Rights in full swing.</div>
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Lots of patience to you,</div>
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Saurabh's better half (I insist!)</div>
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<div class="blogger-post-footer"><a href="http://www.blogadda.com" title="Visit blogadda.com to discover Indian blogs"> <img src="http://www.blogadda.com/images/blogadda.png" width="80" height="15" border="0" alt="Visit blogadda.com to discover Indian blogs" /></a></div>Parul Tyagihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08112145796387536421noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6088009922242402635.post-37566236383796556952016-07-27T11:26:00.000+05:302016-07-27T11:26:31.599+05:30Making a big deal of parenting. But why?<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
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Michelle Obama won a lot of hearts yesterday. She was all over Facebook and Twitter with her speech which she is quite known for delivering impact-fully. I could hear only a portion of it and what stuck to me was:</div>
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<b><i>When they go low, we go high.</i></b></div>
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<a href="https://3.bp.blogspot.com/-fw_ngdSs8r8/V5hHotIoYqI/AAAAAAAAQks/yunapn4mAZQQ6BkzCOTLaS8nta_YBi6SACLcB/s1600/IMG_2847.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="265" src="https://3.bp.blogspot.com/-fw_ngdSs8r8/V5hHotIoYqI/AAAAAAAAQks/yunapn4mAZQQ6BkzCOTLaS8nta_YBi6SACLcB/s400/IMG_2847.JPG" width="400" /></a>In the context of parenting, there was no better way of putting my thoughts into words- the thoughts that were bothering me for a few days now. As V and N are growing up, the challenges of raising them the way we wish to, are becoming more and more complex. They are obedient boys, attentive listeners, quick learners and so broadly our lives are sorted. Combine this with the fact that I tweak my work schedule around them, hence largely we end up spending a lot of quality time with them, abreast with every big and small thing that may be affecting them. But these times are difficult. These times are those of Whatsapp where even before they come back from school, the mothers of their school friends are discussing the next class test or upcoming special assembly with me on the phone.</div>
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As a policy, I keep the class groups on Whatsapp on mute as I trust my sons to tell me what happened in school rather than hearing it from fellow moms. However, unless I start living in a sound proof chamber, there is no way I can avoid the trickles of competition seep into mine or my kids' lives. Why just them? Aren't we all adults competing mindlessly too? Those of us who have not watched Game Of Thrones are outcasts in the society. If we do not know what is 'Pokemon Go', we are dumb f$%&s who should probably lock ourselves up in our house and hope to rot.</div>
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In such a world, what Michelle said had perfect resonance to how I behave with V and N. When I do not watch GOT or play Pokemon just because my peers will judge me, I strictly should keep my sons away from all the myriad things that other kids are doing- just because they ought to! </div>
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Instead of bothering kids with staying at par with others, it is much wiser to let them be. Just let them be. So when the world around them goes low by putting them down because they cannot do A, B or C, be the backbone which makes them say- "I trust myself. I will be fine" :)</div>
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<div class="blogger-post-footer"><a href="http://www.blogadda.com" title="Visit blogadda.com to discover Indian blogs"> <img src="http://www.blogadda.com/images/blogadda.png" width="80" height="15" border="0" alt="Visit blogadda.com to discover Indian blogs" /></a></div>Parul Tyagihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08112145796387536421noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6088009922242402635.post-51307177446515424902016-03-23T13:06:00.000+05:302016-03-23T14:00:32.123+05:304 things V and N will do this HOLI<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
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I have been named the 'worst mother of the lane' in a poll conducted by my sons' friends- some 12 boys ( including V and N) who are Cricket/Soccer buddies throughout the year but enemies during Holi time! For the past one week, I am the only one howling on top of my voice to teach these boys how to play a safer and more fun a Holi. My lectures have borne some good fruits as these kids do not target salesmen, vegetable vendors, old people, dogs among other in the 'list' that I have strictly warned them against. </div>
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Every evening when V and N came complaining to me that why was theirs the only Mum who would stand outside and monitor how Holi is being 'enjoyed' in the neighborhood, I would think hard if I was doing anything wrong? Not till I saw the 7 sec clip that came on their school's Whatsapp group- a 13 year old falling off the first floor balcony because he wanted to throw the water balloon as far as he could. Those kids were also indulging in a gang war of sorts- like all kids do I think but every year the gadgets that they can use see an upgrade- thanks to Chinese supplying them tools where they can fill and knot balloons on their own (means they don't need parents like we did) or colors which are called <i>Gulal </i>but just never come off and itch the eyes a great deal.</div>
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Anyway, I sat down my boys last evening as they returned home bruised and hurt. While running away from balloons, younger one fell on a parked bicycle and older one got hit in the face with a taller guys<i> pichkaari </i>(you have to see the size of this sprinkler to believe it. Its taller than Burj Khalifa)</div>
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I have told them how they can help me have a good festival by doing the following 4 things and I hope all our children understand the true meaning of this fun festival. It sort of worked on mine- hope it does for you too.</div>
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This is what my note reads to them:</div>
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1) <b>H</b>- Have Fun- Yes. I am not a bad Mum. I have been your age and I have played several <i>Holis</i> with friends. I have some very good memories and I insist that you have them too. Have fun, no doubt but fun will be fun only when everyone is safe. Fun will be fun when you are enjoying with your friends and not having a war with them. Fun is fun when you have not harmed yourself and can still play Cricket after <i>Holi </i>is over.</div>
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2) <b>O</b>- Observe- See how your Papa plays <i>Holi</i>. He takes care that he is not aggressive- both in behavior and language. He never forces anyone to play with him. Also observe all the rowdies around you. If they are playing using water from the drain or by throwing eggs inside the houses- That's not Holi. Because its not fun- its stupidity. Being stupid is not fun. Being fun is fun. Observe your elders and observe who is bad. Take care of yourself by doing this.</div>
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3) <b>L-</b> Let others have fun- You cannot harm anyone permanently. You cannot stay silent if someone else is running on the road dangerously. You cannot throw a balloon on someone who doesn't want to play <i>holi</i> with you. Respect everyone. If they ask you to 'please don't dirty me with this color'- show respect boys and just wish them a Happy Holi. If something makes you happy but others unhappy- its not the true spirit of <i>Holi.</i></div>
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4) <b>I-</b> Initiate: After reading all this you will argue- 'Its Holi Ma. We cant have rules'. You can because you must. If no one else agrees to be safe and respectful, both of you take initiative. Be nice boys. People will follow. Even if they don't, you keep being nice. </div>
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<div class="blogger-post-footer"><a href="http://www.blogadda.com" title="Visit blogadda.com to discover Indian blogs"> <img src="http://www.blogadda.com/images/blogadda.png" width="80" height="15" border="0" alt="Visit blogadda.com to discover Indian blogs" /></a></div>Parul Tyagihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08112145796387536421noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6088009922242402635.post-31292285110019947962016-03-08T20:10:00.000+05:302016-03-08T20:10:59.637+05:30Dear Men, I Demand Reservation too.<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
I woke up today to my three boys singing in unison: <i>Happy Woman's Day To Youuuuu!!</i><div>
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Understandable. I am the woman that binds them three and if they will not wish me first thing on such an 'important' day, their lunch/dinner may suffer. Also, all four of us knew in our hearts that today was a day after many many days, when neither of us woke up ill.</div>
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Thanks to the Reservation agitation by our beloved Jat friends and their ire on the canal that supplies clean water in my tap, the boys got severe stomach infection due to all the impurities we had been consuming. As I was tending to one son and their father, my older son was ensuring my peace of mind is not restored by falling twice and getting bruises all over his body.</div>
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<a href="https://3.bp.blogspot.com/-wW3CBU2K2cw/Vt7kHQianYI/AAAAAAAAIXo/hp0V-C8QcG4/s1600/happy-womens-day_o_1177839.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" height="228" src="https://3.bp.blogspot.com/-wW3CBU2K2cw/Vt7kHQianYI/AAAAAAAAIXo/hp0V-C8QcG4/s320/happy-womens-day_o_1177839.jpg" width="320" /></a>So basically, today as I surveyed the heads and injuries of my three dependents, I allowed them school and office- result of which was the Woman's Day singing wish :)</div>
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As they all got away to their respective work places, I sat down reading the incessant wishes on my Whatsapp and Facebook timeline. As usual, they meant nothing to me as the concept of celebrating one day in the name of us woman and humiliating us for all the rest- nah, I am not too convinced.</div>
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Did you just think that by using 'humiliating' I went a little overboard? No ways. Papers are filled with crap against this gender and I am not wasting any more of your time mulling over it. </div>
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Instead, I am going to be selfish and demand something today. If you really mean all the messages you forwarded to all the women in your life- try and ensure this demand gets fulfilled.</div>
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Taking inspiration from my Jat brothers, I demand Reservation too. Reservation for mothers. Mothers who are never anything else once they are, well, mothers. When I became one, this world made me make some very difficult choices. But they were my choices and I want no compensation for them. Though I can do with some Reservation in the minds of all those people who think- My life is easy. </div>
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So give me a 5% reservation in your life. Respect the choices I made. I made them all because of my children and trust me, if a mother doesn't make those choices- it will be tough to run a society. This mother could be your wife, sister, friend or your own mother but look around and find that one woman who doesn't seem like the old one you knew. Consider the changes in her life after her children. Help her with her choices. Make life easier for her by giving her this Reservation. </div>
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Because in our country, all those burning cities for reservation are doing so because they were born a certain way. I was not born a mother. I chose to become one, And it did alter my entire life. I have the supreme power to raise a good or a bad child. I thus have an effect on everyone's collective future! Find the women around you who are going through their lives as mothers. Ask them if they need something to simplify things around them. That will make her day.</div>
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<div class="blogger-post-footer"><a href="http://www.blogadda.com" title="Visit blogadda.com to discover Indian blogs"> <img src="http://www.blogadda.com/images/blogadda.png" width="80" height="15" border="0" alt="Visit blogadda.com to discover Indian blogs" /></a></div>Parul Tyagihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08112145796387536421noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6088009922242402635.post-554967594455147052015-11-23T12:45:00.001+05:302015-11-23T12:45:58.385+05:30The nest I built, the one you will outgrow...<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
Was never the children loving type,<br />
but changed that, you two<br />
Fell from the skies, into my hearts,<br />
<a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-nQtuv1xJZRM/VlK8edf6ChI/AAAAAAAAFIk/z0L0ZTAjTqQ/s1600/IMG_20151120_213115718.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" height="400" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-nQtuv1xJZRM/VlK8edf6ChI/AAAAAAAAFIk/z0L0ZTAjTqQ/s400/IMG_20151120_213115718.jpg" width="225" /></a>Filled me up, through and through.<br />
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We learnt together, as we moved ahead.<br />
I discovered self as I built you.<br />
No work, no promotion, no salary,<br />
Nothing stood in front of you.<br />
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I heard them saying,<br />
I was giving it up too easy.<br />
I never cared to explain,<br />
That, hey! you never asked me to!<br />
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As you stood firm, on ground with teeth,<br />
We wondered who was the child amongst us three.<br />
The endless afternoons of chatter and play,<br />
My Babies, I owe plenty and more to you.<br />
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Every joy, your every meal<br />
Every word you have ever<br />
learnt<br />
Every smile or tear you have given,<br />
I have it stored, I breathe through them.<br />
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Your sleep, your school, your friends, your opinions.<br />
They are yours now, I have taught you all.<br />
But don't we know, each time you fall,<br />
I will be smiling back at you.<br />
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I am not empty as you grow taller than me,<br />
Because I never 'gave up' anything for you,<br />
I chose to spend those moments together,<br />
as memories I wished to build, my life had just that view.<br />
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I know you will need me lesser and lesser,<br />
I know you will talk sparingly.<br />
But I know the foundation in your heart is mine,<br />
It says- Ma, Thanks for the childhood, that had you.</div>
<div class="blogger-post-footer"><a href="http://www.blogadda.com" title="Visit blogadda.com to discover Indian blogs"> <img src="http://www.blogadda.com/images/blogadda.png" width="80" height="15" border="0" alt="Visit blogadda.com to discover Indian blogs" /></a></div>Parul Tyagihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08112145796387536421noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6088009922242402635.post-6186714957742069722015-11-06T16:25:00.004+05:302015-11-06T16:25:57.080+05:30We are growing old. Just not accepting it.<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
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<a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-vmvZpT39Mfw/VjyG-Ring2I/AAAAAAAAFG8/XEHd_lRXc9g/s1600/growing-older-logo.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="200" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-vmvZpT39Mfw/VjyG-Ring2I/AAAAAAAAFG8/XEHd_lRXc9g/s200/growing-older-logo.jpg" width="184" /></a>Being called Aunties and Uncles is passe. Sooner or later, we come to terms to the fact that if we are walking around with our 8 or 6 year olds in company, we are inviting this. What I actually mean by 'experiencing old age' is much deeper and more closer to the places in my mind and heart which I assumed did not exist or thought existed only in our parents. Read up the things which are signs which make me feel 'old' and tell me if you are on your way too!</div>
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<b>1) Aversion to noise:</b> I have been a very dramatic and giggly one all my life. I am like that person whose presence in the house cannot be missed because either I will be expressing myself loudly or laughing out loud-when someone is expressing themselves. Often, this annoying habit of mine was a cause of my Grandmom's wrath. She would ask why I couldn't keep my cheer 'less noisy.' I wondered how can someone's laughter be noisy! Now, as I am gaining candles on my birthday cake, I have started feeling her. Youngsters cracking up on a joke in the Metro truly irk me. A lounge that plays music loud enough that I cannot hear my own heartbeat, makes me leave the place. Loud TV instantly triggers my 'shut the $#%& up' mode. Truly I am soon going to become that one in the house who will request others to- <i>'please keep it low'</i> :/</div>
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<b>2) Hair (The white ones and the falling ones):</b> I know some of us have had white hair ever since they filled up Class 10th admit cards but hey- I never had them! I have two now and they will surely turn all the rest in their color. Every time we are going out, I spend 24.5 seconds on hiding them underneath their black brothers but they pop out like antennae, saying to me- 'you can hide us but don't fight us.'</div>
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<b>3) Fights: </b>Saurabh and I have stopped fighting. Not to set any precedents in front of our growing children but just because we are so bored of the whole process of first stressing on our own points, then 'trying' to understand the other's view, then sulking for three days, then reconciling because a movie has released and we obviously cannot go alone for it, then patching up and waiting for the next fight. Now what we do is this: <i>"You disagree? Arre kyun yaar..."</i> and we do as the other one wants. If this is not indicating old age, what is? We are clearly opting for peace over war and good times over bad ones.</div>
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<b>4) Colors:</b> If you think I will say that I have started liking pastels over neons- you are wrong. It is the opposite. Now when I go to a shop and the guy says- <i>"Ma'am aajkal to ye chal raha hai"</i>- I buy. I know the color is bloody bright but <i>"agar aajkal jo chal raha hai wo nahi pehna to aaj kal ke nahi lagenge na!"</i></div>
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<b>5) Food:</b> Not yet on boiled vegetables and soups-only for dinner but yes I now know that if I have eaten ABC last night, XYZ will happen. This wisdom has made me choosy because while earlier I could rest five days over ill health, as I grow old, nobody can afford that I stay out of action for more than nine seconds.</div>
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<b>6) Family and Friends: </b>I think I now know fully who are my friends. Also identified people in the family who I like and who dont like me. I intend to kill the rest of my time nurturing these relationships rather than calling a new person every friday night and asking: <i>"Wazzaa this weekend???"</i></div>
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Anecdote:</div>
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<b>1) and ONLY: My children</b>- I am unlike the cliches of how an ideal Mum should behave. For instance, I stop them sometimes from eating <i>dal roti</i> and order Pizzas (when Saurabh is eating out or travelling), I dance crazy when a good song is running on TV, I am abreast with all the sporting events they (and the nation) are following and thus when when I sometimes complain of a back pain or too much stress, they look glum. They cannot believe it! Because, somewhere, they don't want to :) </div>
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It is for V and N that I cannot take ageing seriously. Growing old is not in my hands but growing up is :)</div>
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<div class="blogger-post-footer"><a href="http://www.blogadda.com" title="Visit blogadda.com to discover Indian blogs"> <img src="http://www.blogadda.com/images/blogadda.png" width="80" height="15" border="0" alt="Visit blogadda.com to discover Indian blogs" /></a></div>Parul Tyagihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08112145796387536421noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6088009922242402635.post-73699526722517209872015-03-03T16:55:00.000+05:302015-03-03T16:55:58.972+05:30Why I love Pakistan. And why you should love India.<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
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Firstly, there are no good excuses to ignore this blog for so long. I know I should not have and I am guilty as charged. You see, life does get a little 'all over the place' when kids are in the age as mine. Their schools and activities keep me on my toes and thus these fingers never got to the blog. </div>
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<a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-JGdDEhsdpX8/VPWA01hEG6I/AAAAAAAAEwU/4oPMGoYoKMk/s1600/india-and-pak-013.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-JGdDEhsdpX8/VPWA01hEG6I/AAAAAAAAEwU/4oPMGoYoKMk/s1600/india-and-pak-013.jpg" height="118" width="200" /></a>Today, however, a post on my Facebook wall compelled me to write. I write this on behalf of every person who has never indulged in spreading hatred. This hatred is between countries and it's people. A few months back I had written a Blog Post on how fascinated I was because my Friend's List had some people from Pakistan in it. I always wanted to know about their lives, food, attire as it is deeply ingrained me that till a few decades back, we were indeed one. </div>
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But today, I am deeply pained because of someone's existence in my friend's list from there. He posts at least, AT LEAST three posts a day saying something rotten about India. For him, Indian men are losers, Indian politicians are losers, Indian cricket team players are losers, Indian law makers are losers, Pakistani who say good things about us are losers, Indians are Losers. Initially I did go through the links or videos he posted while making such comments and once or twice even commented on his status messages explaining that not everything in India is as bad as he is assuming them to be. Tried to reason out that this hate will not take either of us anywhere but then with time I realized the futility of it as I saw him asking people who 'argued' with him to un-friend him. I did not , as I think I wanted him to bring me to this point where I can vent out- my love towards where he lives rather than hating him for what he is.</div>
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Isn't it a fact that things in India are actually much better than they are in his country. Still, I refrained from making that point and kept wondering why he was so hell bent in expressing his hatred towards a country that has people like me living in it. Who me?</div>
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1) I shed real tears when some assholes entered a school in Peshawar and killed so many sons of mothers like me. I did not sleep for two nights. I hugged my husband tight that night and my kids tighter because for me they weren't Pakistani mothers who deserved atrocities. They were mothers who had been cheated by God. Nothing less.</div>
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2) When Malala got the Nobel Peace Prize, I was proud of her. As proud as I was for Mr Satyarthi's award. I taught V and N what Malala stands for and why we should be very very proud of that girl. For me, she is not JUST a Pakistani.</div>
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3) When the Pakistani Cricket team loses to my team, I celebrate my win but never indulge in below the belt remarks on whether they deserved that loss. Of course I want India to win but then I want them to win against Zimbabwe, South Africa, England and even Antarctica in equal measure! That doesn't ashame me.</div>
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4) When I see a soldier wrapped in a Green Flag on TV, I say a little prayer for his family. Exactly the way I say a prayer for a soldier wrapped in the Tricolor. Not when he is a terrorist. Because I understand that difference. A soldier from Pakistan I saw on my visit to the Wagah Border, got my salute just as the soldier from India got.</div>
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5) I am a fan of Pakistan TV series. I don't get to watch them now but I grew up watching Zoya on <i>Dhoop Kinarey</i>. I am the biggest fan of Umar Sharif and <i>Bakra Kishto Pe</i> is my all time favorite comedy show. I never compare these things with anything in India. I am objective enough to understand that they have nothing to do with my people and their people. It is pure talent and I enjoy them just as much as I enjoy Shahrukh! </div>
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6) I am a true fan of the beautiful girls of Pakistan. I admire them truly. They are full of grace and are actually divine beauties. Does that mean, I dont have beautiful women in my country? Nah! I am just saying, I know the women are good looking there and I totally acknowledge it.</div>
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I did go through some hate mongering Facebook pages where Indians are bashing Pakistanis. But I am not one of them. None of my friends are one of them. No one in my family is one of them. No one in my neighborhood is one of them. Trust me, they do not represent the major part of our population. Similarly this man, may be represents a minuscule percentage of Pakistanis who take pride in hating India. But you know what? It really disturbs me. And doing so behind the veils of loving your country- Boss- I love my Mom but I do not hate anyone else's. I love my children but I will never tell a friend whose children are doing good that I hate them for it. You love yourself, your people. Love me too. Love my people and their goodness too. No?</div>
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I hope this Blog Post reaches you (I know it will but cant say if you choose to read it) and I want to tell you one thing, one last time:</div>
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Peace can happen. Not through politicians, armies, borders, weapons. It can happen inside your heart. We have our own problems and you have your own. But there are problems that are common. Rapes, acid attacks, terrorism, poverty, environment, politics. We in India, feel equally resentful to these problems and empathise with you as you go about handling yours. Why not take the baton of happiness in our own hearts and hands. Next time you announce on your Facebook wall that you always knew Indian Men never had real 'balls', think of me or my family or my friends (we are all highly educated people living a good life in our country like you and your friends are) who will never EVER post something so demeaning or hate propagating about you.</div>
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<div class="blogger-post-footer"><a href="http://www.blogadda.com" title="Visit blogadda.com to discover Indian blogs"> <img src="http://www.blogadda.com/images/blogadda.png" width="80" height="15" border="0" alt="Visit blogadda.com to discover Indian blogs" /></a></div>Parul Tyagihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08112145796387536421noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6088009922242402635.post-2321056098764282632014-12-23T16:19:00.001+05:302014-12-23T16:27:30.053+05:30Talking to my 2014<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
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I am seeing Red all around me. Nothing to do with my cold and cough situation though. It is Christmas time and my Facebook timeline, my friend's pictures, the roads till my office, the parking guy's head gear and the celebs I stalk on Twitter have all turned Red to keep up with the season. Now, I too had Christmas Parties and invites till a few years ago but age catches up with you sooner than you estimate. It is so freezing cold outside that I have politely turned down invitations, over the years, by saying- We have some other plans- and gradually people have realised, our plans are actually warm quilts and Big Boss! (Okay, the latter is more of my plan and my husband complying)</div>
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<a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-NKG-e6NxR2s/VJlKVLVaDRI/AAAAAAAAEnQ/Y7vmh7iO2IU/s1600/imagesVYW43NGL.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-NKG-e6NxR2s/VJlKVLVaDRI/AAAAAAAAEnQ/Y7vmh7iO2IU/s1600/imagesVYW43NGL.jpg" height="149" width="200" /></a>Since I stopped being an Enthu Cutlet for 'rocking' and 'happening' parties, I have to vent out my excitement somehow about everything that I am feeling amidst festivities and cheer around me. I have no messages or requests for Santa Claus. I rather have short and sweet messages for persons and things that had an influence on me in the year gone by and I have no hopes of any of them sparing me in the coming too :)</div>
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1) <strong>Open</strong> <strong>Letter Writers-</strong> Consider this my open letter to all those open letter writers who write more and more open letters to the ones who wrote open letters before them. First, letters are Dodos now so don't prefix an OPEN to them to revive them. They have no chance of resurrecting. Call them just letters and they will still read the same. Second, you wrote that open letter knowing that the one you are writing to, will never read it but instead it will become viral, make you look mature/concerned and enable you to have intellectual conversations in the comment boxes underneath. Yeah, we all know this but we still open them and help your cause.</div>
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2) <strong>Killers of Children-</strong> I know none of them will ever read this. So really what is the point in even addressing them? But I can tell you all who are reading this- I hate them. Too.</div>
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3) <strong>Selfie Takers</strong>- Uff that selfie smile of yours- I just love it. And that exclusive side profile? Killer! Oh how I can forget that pout. Yum! One day, I hope, this fascination will retire and people will start living their lives with real smiles and believable twinkle in their eyes. One day.</div>
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4) <strong>Radio Cab Drivers-</strong> I took a lot of Radio Cab rides in 2014. Yes, in Uber too. And I was my usual chatty self. Some drivers reciprocated my chattiness, others increased the volume of FM channels. The way my life remains unchanged in terms of salaries which cannot afford a Driver and the parking space around our house where our two cars win real battles to find their own ground every day, I am going to continue taking these cabs. Just that I am considering investing in a Pepper Spray which I am pretty sure I will not be able to find inside my overfilled handbag when I need it. I also intend to continue praying that I don't get raped as that's the ONLY thing we can do it seems in our country.</div>
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5) <strong>Travellers-</strong> Love you guys. I think you are the only people who are truly living. I am not addressing the kinds for who travelling means a twice an year ritual of going to Goa. Travellers are those who crave exploration- of new places, of food and of adventures. Hats off to that breed and yes, you guys are people I love to be jealous of. By the way, I love Goa. I go there every year. That's not travelling. That's hygiene!</div>
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6) <strong>Big Boss-</strong> Another year will begin and with it my favourite TV show will complete yet another season. I hate this thought but I live with it. I live with the hope that September will come again and it will bring with it the show, I live for...</div>
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7)<strong> V and N</strong>- These two are growing up really fast. I know this because they have started arguing with me, they have instructed me to not kiss them in their park, they have football shoes and party shoes and casual party shoes and cricket shoes, they have their favourite actresses and both have that one girl in their class who they protect from the mean bullies around them. So well, V and N are everything I am and I am everything they want me to be- at different stages of their boyhood.</div>
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<div class="blogger-post-footer"><a href="http://www.blogadda.com" title="Visit blogadda.com to discover Indian blogs"> <img src="http://www.blogadda.com/images/blogadda.png" width="80" height="15" border="0" alt="Visit blogadda.com to discover Indian blogs" /></a></div>Parul Tyagihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08112145796387536421noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6088009922242402635.post-23238465723013057922014-11-05T15:45:00.004+05:302014-11-05T15:50:41.459+05:30Sunidhi Chauhan and the Delhi Crowd<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
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We were lucky that we got the opportunity to be with one of our favourite artist-Sunidhi Chauhan- last evening. It was only for her that we broke the norm of not venturing out on a weekday (I am hopeless in sending kids to schools every day as schools start early morning). We knew it will be worth all the effort. So what if we were seated in the Balcony of the humongous Siri Fort Auditorium whose Balcony is at quite a distance from the stage.</div>
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The show apparently was being done for a charity organisation (I don't want to name it as the charity is doing a good job and had nothing to do with what the organiser was turning this evening into!) So as people are still running here and there to take a seat from where they are closest to Sunidhi-which is impossible as we are hung in a balcony that Sunidhi wont even know exists, there is a video playing on stage. The video starts with the main organiser telling us how he had the brainwave of working for this great cause and identified this particular organisation to give money to by doing this concert. He is followed by his wife, mother, mother in law, elder brother and sister in law (that elder brother's wife) who appear one by one and praise the organiser for coming up with this idea. The elder brother even says how 'Chunnu ("we call him Chunnu <em>pyaar se")</em> is mature enough to do this social work. I am trying to look and feel absolutely serious as this cause is close to my heart too but the mention of 'Chunnu' ends it for me. I try to hide my giggle as there are people around and I could be mistaken for making fun of the feelings behind this event. My best friend and husband, though, is smiling back at me. The lamp is lit and the tight red dress host (who says Ladies and Gentleman like ledsnadgentlmun) hands over the Mic to Chunnu (he has a proper name but that's not important). Now Chunnu speaks for five minutes telling us why this cause is the cause for this evening. He then suddenly pauses for two seconds, turns away from audience, looks back like a hero and adds- "Sorry guys. <em>Santi ho gaya</em>". Anyway, to Chunnu his own, the evening begins.</div>
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Sunidhi as usual rocks! Singing one song after another with all her versatility and oomph. After a couple of numbers she announces that since this is a charity event she is going to do something terribly different this evening. The audience wants to know what's that!! Me too!!</div>
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"In front of the Delhi audience, that's known for dance and <em>masti</em>, I am going to do the unusual. I will only sing soft numbers. So are you guys ready for a serene evening? Are you guys ready to not dance?" </div>
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The rows right in front of her, clap loudly and roar with appreciation. These are the 'Reserved' and 'Gold Class' category who are real connoisseurs
of soulful music (or so they tried to pretend). Up above in the balcony, where yours truly is sitting, there is deafening silence. The cattle class is shocked. Sunidhi wont make us dance? Its like Anup Jalota asking them if they are ready for a dance! And Delhi audience will even dance to Anup Jalota!! What was Sunidhi thinking? </div>
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Anyways, a couple of rows behind us get empty. She goes on to sing some wonderful 'soft' songs and trust me we are drenched in the serenity she promised. Just when she finishes two more such songs someone behind us shouts (knowing well that he can never be heard as Sunidhi surely doesn't know there is a Balcony too!) - "<em>Madamji</em>, Kamli" (in a humble, requesting type shriek). The entire enclosure laughs aloud. But no one, beyond the balcony, can hear us. We are the cattle class who stands up for each other but no one influential will ever hear our voices. Sunidhi goes on with her awesome renditions and one more bunch of friends behind us leave. Two men behind me are chatty and one asks the other- </div>
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<em>"Kamli kaunsi picture ka hai bata mujhe?"</em></div>
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"Dhoom 3" his friend, who is playing Subway Surfer states, matter of factly.</div>
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As Sunidhi finishes "Yaram" she has the audacity to ask the Dilli crowd- <em>"Maza aa raha haina Dilllliiiiii"</em></div>
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The guy behind me shouts: "Dhoom 3!!!!!!!!"</div>
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Sunidhi ignores him once again, unknowingly of course and moves on to "<em>Chura liya hai tumne"</em></div>
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This time I guess the Delhite inside the elite crowd too feels the need to open up. At the end of this all-time- melodious-number, someone, who God has chosen to be audible to Sunidhi, shouts- <em>"Beedi Jalai le"</em></div>
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Believe it or not, this is when Sunidhi becomes Robert Vadra and asks: "Are You Serious?"</div>
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Yes Madam they were serious!!! Ask me, the cattle class, who lost many of her counterparts in the Balcony because they ONLY wanted to dance! Crazy <em>dilliwalas </em>we are but may I add- At least we love you even more :)</div>
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<div class="blogger-post-footer"><a href="http://www.blogadda.com" title="Visit blogadda.com to discover Indian blogs"> <img src="http://www.blogadda.com/images/blogadda.png" width="80" height="15" border="0" alt="Visit blogadda.com to discover Indian blogs" /></a></div>Parul Tyagihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08112145796387536421noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6088009922242402635.post-29674164652938777102014-09-09T16:52:00.000+05:302014-09-11T10:16:53.524+05:30The ONLY 5 things I know in Punjabi language!<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
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Having lived in Delhi all my life, there is no way I could ever stay disconnected with this language. From Auto Rickshaw guys to shopkeepers in Lajpat Nagar to schoolmates to colony friends- I have always had adequate brushes with it. Still it is a shame that I never could pick it. I can understand few words but definitely cannot speak well. After my marriage, when I saw my Mom In Law speak decent full sentences in Punjabi she told me that since she has lived and worked all her life in Delhi, how could she not pick? Well, truly it is shameful that I did not!</div>
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<a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-iTWV0PISywM/VA7gaBucmpI/AAAAAAAAEaE/bZT3ZbGsonM/s1600/images.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-iTWV0PISywM/VA7gaBucmpI/AAAAAAAAEaE/bZT3ZbGsonM/s1600/images.jpg" height="200" width="140" /></a>Lately however I have enhanced my vocabulary of Punjabi. I still do not freely incorporate it in my fluent talks (except that one time when I told my husband how cute the <em>'nikke-nikke'</em> dogs were looking while crossing the road and he was absolutely SHOCKED). Two of my favourite people in my family are Punjabis. My two Sister in Laws who don't speak the language(with each other or their parents) but know it still. Interactions with them and following them on social media made me sit down and draw up this list which is my ONLY knowledge of this language. Read on. Maybe you will find traces of your experience in them...</div>
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1) The Babydoll song- This is the maximum amount of Punjabi I can speak in one go. I have by hearted the song. When I am driving alone and this song is on FM, I sing along in full volume and feel so proud of my feat. </div>
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2) Honey Singh- Not just for me but for the entire nation this man is single handedly responsible for enabling humming of Punjabi songs so effortless. It is because of his songs like <em>'Lak 28 kudi ka'</em> that I know many unknown words of this language.</div>
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3) Words- Some words are such integral part of my perceptions of people who know Punjabi. List: </div>
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Mausi = Maasi </div>
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Namaste = Pairi Pauna </div>
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Sagai =Sagan</div>
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Tilak = Tikka. </div>
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Paagal= Jhalli</div>
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Gaadi=Gaddi</div>
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Just love them!</div>
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4) Kirron Kher- No one works better than Kirron Kher as the typical Punjabi mum. I have illusions that all Punjabi mothers are like her. Her perfect use of language, stressing on the right words, expressions, laughter- Uff now that's a Punjabi Mum for me and her style of speaking!</div>
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5) Weddings- Seen Vicky Donor? Remember that scene when Ayushman's Mom asks someone to fetch <em>Daaru</em> from the <em>Gaddi</em>? THAT. The whole openness, largeness, fun, slim and fair girls, tall <em>dulhas</em> hugging their graceful Mums, laughter- That's my orientation to this language which may be loud but is so warm :)</div>
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<div class="blogger-post-footer"><a href="http://www.blogadda.com" title="Visit blogadda.com to discover Indian blogs"> <img src="http://www.blogadda.com/images/blogadda.png" width="80" height="15" border="0" alt="Visit blogadda.com to discover Indian blogs" /></a></div>Parul Tyagihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08112145796387536421noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6088009922242402635.post-11825272964944692552014-08-12T11:05:00.000+05:302014-08-12T11:13:40.191+05:30Top 5 cliches at a family get together...<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
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<a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-ViJCto2jcSY/U-mjT3mceSI/AAAAAAAAEXA/JWLuqKgAa90/s1600/untitled.png" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-ViJCto2jcSY/U-mjT3mceSI/AAAAAAAAEXA/JWLuqKgAa90/s1600/untitled.png" height="200" width="200" /></a>Fresh out of Rakhi celebrations we are, aren't we? I can see on Facebook that almost everyone spent it with their extended family. There is always that one kind soul in all our families who volunteers to host these get togethers, so all tying of Rakhi and exchanging of gifts can happen under one roof- all so conveniently. </div>
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This is my tenth (Yeah!10th!) year of celebrating festivals with Saurabh's extended family. It is now that I am qualified to write the typical 5 clichés that happen at every, almost every family gathering. I am sure everyone reading this will say 'Oh yes' to at least three :)</div>
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1) <strong>Comment on weight:</strong> The minute guests start arriving in, they almost look as if the following words were sitting on their lips for the longest time and must be heard:</div>
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"Why have you lost so much weight?" OR "Why has ABC (host's husband or wife) lost so much weight?"</div>
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We must all understand that they are not asking this because they are worried. They just see the 'fit' you and wonder why!</div>
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2) <strong>Tea:</strong> So everyone has arrived and sitting in a huge family circle. Initial warm up has lapsed and the host will ask, <em>"Chai Banaye?".</em> This question in itself is wrong. Why ask? Just make it! But you have to hear the guests' reactions (they never change):</div>
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First everyone will say: <em>"Arre rehne do"</em> ; <em>"Nahi nahi"</em> ; "Not for me. I am fine"</div>
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Just when everyone realises that to ease the host's burden everyone has refused tea and 'Oh my god I needed it' someone will say:</div>
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"<em>Agar ban rahi hai</em> then ill take." 5 more people will join in, as sympathetically as they can,</div>
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"Only if you are making it, I will take"</div>
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All those who said 'No' vehemently in the first lot will now be saying in their heads- 'Thank God'</div>
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The host then comes to everyone's rescue,</div>
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"Ok then. Will make for everyone."</div>
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3)<strong> Food is always awesome:</strong> Typical lines: <em>"Ye kisne banaya?"</em> followed by <em>"Jisne bhi banaya, kamaal hai."</em> Now whoever is saying this, has a wife somewhere in the same room sulking and taking mental notes. </div>
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But don't we all do this out of sheer compulsion. The host will invariably shove one more <em>poori</em> in our plate and ask: <em>"Acha nahi bana kya?"</em>. Now what is the correct answer to this question? Obviously the guest will say: <em>"Awesome hai!"</em></div>
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4) <strong>One person/family will always be stuck in a jam:</strong> Why is there always that one person who is late? Everyone who has arrived on time will mass-blame that one person (or family) by digging into their past perfiormance.</div>
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<em>"Hamesha late aate hain!"</em></div>
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<em>"Time se kyun nahi chalte?"</em></div>
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<em>"Jam to nahi hai raaste main?"</em></div>
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And then after all the speculation that teenager of the family who has acquired the smart phone very recently and is seen playing candy crush is asked:</div>
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<em>"Arre XYZ, phone laga ABC ko and check."</em></div>
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5) <strong>Testing children in academics-</strong> Children enjoy these gatherings the most. Especially the children of the host as they are not being watched. Also they are somehow the centre of attention. How? They have to recite poems, show some dance moves, get their General Knowledge checked, let everyone who they love more- Papa or Mummy and also let everyone know if their Mum gives them enough food or not (duh!)! If there are more than one kid then guests like to play 'Comparison Games' with them. 'Who can say the alphabets the fastest' types. I don't know if kids enjoy this but their parents definitely get a complex! </div>
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<div class="blogger-post-footer"><a href="http://www.blogadda.com" title="Visit blogadda.com to discover Indian blogs"> <img src="http://www.blogadda.com/images/blogadda.png" width="80" height="15" border="0" alt="Visit blogadda.com to discover Indian blogs" /></a></div>Parul Tyagihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08112145796387536421noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6088009922242402635.post-33494990784197906572014-07-18T11:43:00.000+05:302014-07-18T11:43:26.101+05:30I am a Mum of two boys. But I am not carefree.<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
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Today as I reached work, my timeline was flooded with anguish of mothers over the rape of a 6 year old in her school. I read a few but couldn't go beyond three. They were all full of so much helplessness that it irked the mother in me. But what was interesting in all of them was that they were all from mothers of girls. </div>
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I have sons. Two. Though both are aged around the little girl who was assaulted in Bangalore, they are boys. Does that mean I am less sensitive to these news items on rapes being carried out to little girls? I am not even saying that ideally I should feel the pain of those parents as a woman because I am as prone to rape as this little one, in this country. My point is that I am equally worried about my sons today. Hear me out all you parents of girls, who feel so insecure while bringing up daughters in our callous country. So what if I have boys? I am equally scared for them as you are for your daughters. </div>
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I am scared because being boys, I cannot technically tell them what is rape, at least not now. I am scared because someone who is sick in the head can assume that touching my sons is lesser a crime than touching someone's daughter. I am scared because they are naïve, just like a girl of their age, and can get scared of someone overpowering them. I am scared because everyone assumes they are safe, or safer.</div>
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I have taught them good touch and bad touch. I have told them they cant be alone with a stranger anywhere in the school or in the bus. I have told them that if anyone says that they will cause any harm to their parents if they tell the truth, Papa will teach that person a tougher lesson than he can imagine. I watch over them every minute when they are in the park. I call them every 3 hours when I am at work even though they are safe with their Grand mom because there could be something that they would like to share with just me. I have a secret password with them which they can use in case someone tries to give them a message through me at an unfamiliar place. Mind you guys, I am not a helicopter parent. I am just a parent in the times where my child needs me for a plethora of exposures he gets and needs answers for. I am doing everything in my might and senses which can keep V and N away from crime. But I know I can never do enough. I have to send them to school, to their dance classes, to friends' places, to the park, to swimming. Can I be around them all the time? I cannot. And what irritates me is that ideally I shouldn't. I am responsible for their safety but I cannot suffocate them over it. </div>
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So what is it that I can do? I can only pray it seems. I can pray not just for them but also for every little baby who doesn't deserve these crimes. I don't intend to join a candle march at India Gate to register my protest. This, because I am not stupid enough to not realise that this mentality is so deeply ingrained in our society that my candle will never last enough to burn down this disease of some brains. I don't want to pray for strength for those parents whose daughter was raped. That's so futile. I pray in fact for a miracle where this girl's example can let God put an end to our miseries. Yeah but I am game to join a pressure tactic which insists that schools do everything they can to ensure that our children are bloody safe with them as I am not assuming that they truly are. </div>
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Every morning when I send them to school, I kiss them and say- "Have a nice day." When they smile back, I look at them in the eyes and assure them that they will. </div>
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V and N- you are the reasons why Saurabh and I exist and we promise you that we are doing our best to keep you happy and healthy including saying our daily prayers :)</div>
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<div class="blogger-post-footer"><a href="http://www.blogadda.com" title="Visit blogadda.com to discover Indian blogs"> <img src="http://www.blogadda.com/images/blogadda.png" width="80" height="15" border="0" alt="Visit blogadda.com to discover Indian blogs" /></a></div>Parul Tyagihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08112145796387536421noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6088009922242402635.post-82775355693159281862014-07-02T11:50:00.000+05:302014-07-02T11:50:04.888+05:30As you retire from work Papa......<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
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They say your heart doesn't beat inside you, it beats inside me. But do they know that your love never managed to spoil me? </div>
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They say, I can make you do anything under the sun. But do they know that you've never let me do anything that was wrong.</div>
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<a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-_nZPPVo30rs/U7OiabRVXmI/AAAAAAAAES8/gwsRmg5v27c/s1600/images.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-_nZPPVo30rs/U7OiabRVXmI/AAAAAAAAES8/gwsRmg5v27c/s1600/images.jpg" height="200" width="200" /></a>They say you are partial, just too soft on me. But have they seen how much you scolded, when I acted weird.</div>
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They might see you detached, glued to your TV. But they haven't heard our everyday phone calls that last eternity.</div>
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They say you are short tempered, hot tempered too. But they don't know your patience when I rant endlessly about my life with you.</div>
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They may say you got it easy and you took it easy too. But they didn't see you down and out for most of it too.</div>
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They have seen you having a good time with your friends, till date. Wish they had seen those friends stand besides us, through thick and thin too.</div>
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They have seen your laughter, your guts and your will. I have also seen your advise, wisdom and hope behind it all.</div>
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They have seen me and Rahul grow up to be what we are. I have known Saurabh and Nish, look up to you too.<br />
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She comes across like your shadow, quiet behind you. I know but, Ma is your anchor who has sailed us all through.<br />
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They say you will retire from work Papa, in a week,</div>
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They don't know, it is so you will be around me, for me, with me :)<br />
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<div class="blogger-post-footer"><a href="http://www.blogadda.com" title="Visit blogadda.com to discover Indian blogs"> <img src="http://www.blogadda.com/images/blogadda.png" width="80" height="15" border="0" alt="Visit blogadda.com to discover Indian blogs" /></a></div>Parul Tyagihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08112145796387536421noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6088009922242402635.post-20643944663732187972014-05-12T12:34:00.001+05:302014-05-12T12:37:28.814+05:30On a Break or Break Free on Mothers Day?<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
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Yesterday is gone. I mean the dust over the marketing gimmick around Mothers Day has settled. We are all now going through a mundane Monday that even our mothers cannot save us from. I belong to the school where no specific day can make me remember my husband or children or father or mother or brother. The result: I didn't get any gift yesterday AND I didn't even complain :/</div>
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However, since I am part of the top 4.7% of this country's social media consumer base (imaginary figures used for impact), I did get a lot of messages reminding me that I am an amazing Mom and that because my Mom is also amazing, I should do A B C D for her. As I retired for the night I scanned all messages once again and the winner of the most common thought running in all of them was: Since it is 'Happy Mothers Day', we mothers should be given a day off to relax, head for massages, get pampered and that our husbands should step into our shoes for this one day.</div>
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This thought doesn't work for me at so many levels. First, as I have mentioned many a times before, Saurabh is a hands on Dad and there is nothing special that I do for V and N which he doesn't/cannot do. Secondly, how the hell does one step out of being a mother for one day? By stepping out I mean- Relax for a day when you are a Mom!</div>
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Let me tell you how my day looked yesterday and you will know how meaningless this wish was for me.</div>
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1) I insist on making V and N's meals by myself each day. I do it with a lot of passion everyday hence there was no way I wouldn't have done so yesterday. I did. It gave me so much happiness.</div>
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2) They fought over trivial things as usual. They wanted me to be the Judge of their disputes like every other day as I know best (at least they think so) which is the most fair way to settle them. I resolved their differences all day. I was so happy.</div>
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3) I was on top of their mischiefs all day long as that is my way to teach them how to behave. I scolded them with equal vigour and kissed them with equal warmth (Not lessening the former and increasing the latter is what I mean)</div>
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4) Like on every other weekend, Saurabh and I took off for an evening out with just each other. When we return, I see a huge cotton ball with lots of red Betadine taped to V's forehead. My heart stopped for a second. Thankfully the bruise was a very small one, result of a fall which he could have easily avoided, had he listened to <em>Dadi</em>. It was his fault but my baby was hurt. As I wiped his tears, scolded him for being careless, hugged him with all my might and assured him that he is absolutely fine- I knew- </div>
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Mothers can never be anything else. We don't need to relax. We don't need a break. Our kids are us. Can you forget yourself for a day and relax? If you can- Happy Mothers DAY!</div>
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<div class="blogger-post-footer"><a href="http://www.blogadda.com" title="Visit blogadda.com to discover Indian blogs"> <img src="http://www.blogadda.com/images/blogadda.png" width="80" height="15" border="0" alt="Visit blogadda.com to discover Indian blogs" /></a></div>Parul Tyagihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08112145796387536421noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6088009922242402635.post-74915983969164120682014-04-09T16:45:00.001+05:302014-04-10T11:35:26.557+05:30You vote. I Vote. We all vote. ENOUGH on VOTE!!<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
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Tired is the state of my mind right now. There is no other word that describes it more aptly. Just so goddam tired of opinions, views, convictions, graphs, blogs, videos, rallies that I have never been so, ever before. Facebook and Twitter have shown their true colors. So much so that I miss those people on my timeline now who posted Birthday pics, mundan pics, housewarming pics, bought-new-fridge pics, had-an-accident pics, babyshower pics and I used to crib. Wont crib again people. Come back! Because when your posts look silly to me I choose to ignore your 74 pictures album and move on to more logical updates. However for the past few days where do I move on to? Everyone- each one of these guys- are ONLY and ONLY talking about politics. It stresses me out. I hate it. I......am tired! I know most of you are too!!</div>
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But if you thought that all will be over soon. Hey hey NO. Tomorrow is the polling day. Tomorrow, my friends, is the <em>Baap</em> of all these bleeding-from-my-nose-updates days! As tomorrow is when the below stated updates will beautify my timeline. And mind you all- anyone who does even one of these, well...what can I do about you guys? Ill pray that sanity will prevail and I pray that soon you will be convinced that Yes, you have made your point! </div>
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So fellow Indians, brace yourself for the following- all of tomorrow:</div>
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1) Photos of fingers with the black ink. Those selfies. Along with the words- "Proud"</div>
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My Take: Get Manicures done girls. Some pictures really look ugly. Boys, ill be ogling at your fat fingers nonetheless!</div>
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1.1) Sticking to photo uploads there will be many with people with their families and friends (all wearing aviators) showing their inked fingers in a selfie- smiling and proud.</div>
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My Take: Hahahaha...</div>
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2) Status messages: "Just voted. Have you done so?" (Along with the picture of the finger with the black ink)</div>
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My Take: I will mind my own business with my own head with my own time with my own convenience. How can you blackmail me to vote NOW just because you voted?</div>
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3) Check ins at fancy cafes with description- "Relaxing after casting my vote. Have you voted yet?"</div>
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My Take: Finish your coffee and get going. Pay the bill. Be a good citizen!</div>
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4) Status updates with complaints like "The booth was poorly managed" or "Saw XYZ party goons around the booth. I smell something fishy"</div>
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My Take: Do not disguise your ballooned pride by holding the same nose from behind. We know that you want to tell people that you just returned after voting. You know whats better? The picture of that finger.</div>
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5) Constant boosters. Oh reminders- "Get up people. Go out and Vote" or "Don't forget to cast it"</div>
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My Take: OKAY!!</div>
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6) Guilty posts where people could not cast votes and are feeling useless but still wish to be part of the big party on Facebook- "Away from Delhi on work. I wish I was there to make my country proud! Miss the fun. But hey, all of you vote!"</div>
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My Take: Somewhere in your comments you will be successful in letting the world know exactly where you are away. Wasn't that the whole point?</div>
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My last word on all this mania- We have all understood it. Let us breathe and bring back the exotic holidays and food pictures!</div>
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<div class="blogger-post-footer"><a href="http://www.blogadda.com" title="Visit blogadda.com to discover Indian blogs"> <img src="http://www.blogadda.com/images/blogadda.png" width="80" height="15" border="0" alt="Visit blogadda.com to discover Indian blogs" /></a></div>Parul Tyagihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08112145796387536421noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6088009922242402635.post-11948281809412792182014-03-07T10:19:00.001+05:302014-03-07T10:19:37.972+05:30My AIIMS scare- Part 2 (Final!)<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
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First off- Thanks to everyone for calling/ leaving messages/ checking with Saurabh on how I was doing. I don't know how to let you all know that the purpose of the blog was not to freak everyone out. In fact if I had released both parts together you would have laughed off at my visit to AIIMS. But the antibiotics and the pain didn't let me sit on the laptop for a longer spell. Must apologise to my cousin who was frantically calling to speak but I didn't pick as I cannot talk. To a family friend who even scolded Saurabh for not letting her know of our problem :). To my Uncle in Bombay who spoke with Saurabh expressing so much concern. To all my friends who whatsapped me lifting my spirits. I owe you all a hug :)</div>
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Now to where we left. So we were out of our home at 9 am headed to AIIMS where we were to meet the guy who would ferry us to the right Doctor with ease. The perception of making it to the right Doctor in AIIMS is such that it helps to have an internal guy take care of you with mundane logistics. We were to meet him at 10:30 so why did we start so early? Well, parking we were told is about 1.25 kms away and if you have known me even for ten minutes you would know that I HATE walking. So we took this buffer as Saurabh might have to build moving walkways to transport me from parking to the hospital. Anyway his super driving skills brought us to the parking lot exactly at 10 and just as we moved heads to our right we see a never before seen building of Delhi. Its a huge seven storey, having its own sprawling gardens and big iron gates- AIIMS Dental Research Institute. We cannot believe our eyes! Here you park, cross the road and land in the wing of AIIMS you were meant to be in. Great, we thought. Luck seems to be favouring us. The day had started well- Parul did not have to walk more than 100 meters.</div>
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Now before I write further please understand the agenda I had in my mind. I was there to meet a specialised Doctor just the way I would have met someone in a private clinic. Obviously I had searched the Internet and knew well that there exists no medication or treatment of this problem of mine. Surgery is its last resort but certainly we weren't going to opt for it. So in my head just because Ma had insisted we were there to meet a Doctor who would have said- "Nothing can be done, live with it." This is the reason my parents, brother and Saurabh's sister had not even been informed about this visit. We were there for a casual sort of time pass.</div>
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So around 10:15 we are seated in the concerned department and the escort guy is on his way from the main AIIMS to this baby AIIMS. You cannot imagine how relieved I was as this place had empty corridors, no one seemed to be in an emergency situation, some seats still vacant. Few people of course were holding their cheeks as their teeth must be hurting but nothing was visible to me and hence I was a bit at peace. Within minutes, thanks to our efficient escort, the Doctor concerned called us in, asked my problem and issued a card worth 10 rupees (ONLY) certifying that I am his patient. We were asked to get two X rays done (30 rupees each-ONLY). The escort now left us on our own because he must have realised that these two have come here for a non life threatening situation and he had more genuine sufferers in the other building. </div>
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We head for X ray wing and there for the first time we get a 1% brush with life in AIIMS. People ranged from being poor to very poor. All suffering, all tired and hassled. Names being called out for turns and chaos prevailing as everyone wants to be the first to be X rayed! Thanks to Saurabh, I sailed past this stage by only sitting quietly in one corner while he negotiated my card inside the X ray room. On the giant TV screen they showed a film which warned people that <em>beedi, gutkha and paan</em> can cause cancer and many men were displaying their tongues, gums and teeth which turn ugly when cancer strikes them. Everyone watches it intently. We are all together here waiting for time to pass and our turns to come. X ray done and report will be out in 20 minutes. Now that is impressive. 20 minutes is less! And well they exceed our expectations by handing over our report in 15 minutes but sans the envelope.</div>
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<em>"Khatam ho gaya Sir envelope. Haath main hi le jaiye"-</em> Second brush with a Sarkari Hospital. Saurabh contains his emotions and we are now headed back to our Doctor. </div>
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"Hmmm.....ok......hmmm...." this is what the senior lady Doctor is doing while turning my Jaw X ray up and down, right and left. She asks me routine questions and keeps a smile on her lips. Saurabh is standing nearby and now I am ashamed that there seems to be nothing wrong with my reports and I made him go through so much in the last few months. I am sure this Doctor will say that I am alright. I feel bad. But I decide to break my own bubble because I know I have been in pain.</div>
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"Does the report say something?"</div>
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"Yes Yes. Your condition is severe!" She said (Yipee, I am relieved). "Not just right side, even on the left, the Jaw is dislocated. I am sure you have a lot of discomfort. This is serious."</div>
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By now her Junior joins us and she shows the X ray to the three of us explaining the wide gap between my upper and lower jaw. I am now nervous. Because the gap is huge! She asks the junior what he thinks should be done and he casually says- "Pabra ca dabra"</div>
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Pabra ca dabra because both Saurabh and me did not understand this medical terminology but it sounded serious. Saurabh asks what the hell was this treatment and we are assured its non intrusive and the only resort unless we wish a surgery which is a major operation, irreversible, risky and non recommended. We decide to hear them out. We are now taken to a huge room that has lots and lots of those typical dentist chairs. In my pvt. clinic there would be just two such pretty things. Here they were uncountable. </div>
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So we stand with the Doctor and he explains so casually like he is telling us how to make a fruit salad. </div>
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"See we will infuse patients own blood into the gap shown in the X ray. This blood will form fibroids and we HOPE that will restrict the free movement of the patient's jaw."</div>
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I am not Parul now. I am a patient. Secondly why use the word HOPE? It better cure me or why will I give my blood in the first place.</div>
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"Doctor you said its non intrusive. So how will the blood go inside?" asks Saurabh.</div>
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"Nono, we mean its not as bad as a surgery. We ll take her blood from the arm and use a 18 gauge syringe below her ear to put that blood back in" Doc says.</div>
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Now this begins to sound cumbersome.</div>
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"And it will hurt?" I ask.</div>
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"C'mon, we will give you anaesthesia!" he says.</div>
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So of course it will hurt!</div>
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"The needles will be put on my cheek?" I ask.</div>
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Doc smiles and looks at Saurabh as if telling him that he has a really stupid wife. "Don't think about it too much Parul. Let me handle this," he says realising that Saurabh looks equally worried.</div>
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"So I will give you a date in future?" he asks us.</div>
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"Yes Doctor. If that is the only treatment, give us a date," Saurabh says. Please know that after this point my brain has stopped functioning. I am shitting in my pants.</div>
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"Well this can happen any day in the evenings," the Doc tells him (not to me as I look dead now)</div>
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"Oh....so it can happen today?" Saurabh says.</div>
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WHAT. TODAY? WHY? My mind is saying but I have lost my speech.</div>
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"Yes yes why not. Come at 2. Ill do it," the Doc says and the deal is struck. Like between two businessmen. He writes on our card the time and asks us to buy our own syringes and bandage- third brush with a Sarkari Hospital. As we step out of the room I expect Saurabh to show some concern on how me the patient must be feeling. But he rather says,</div>
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"Why should we bring syringes? Don't they have them here? Its a bloody huge hospital!"</div>
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I look at him with sympathy. Poor thing has to worry about syringes and not for me who looks pale and gone. He quickly realises his folly and asks,</div>
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"You want to think about it? Take a minute. See, this ought to be done."</div>
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"I am not ready. I have to talk to Papa," I manage.</div>
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"Of course you should. Ill go buy this stuff, you call Papa," he says and rushes out.</div>
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So he knows that the decision has been taken and Papa will also not discourage us. Smart move!</div>
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I explain the procedure to Dad and he says just three things,</div>
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"Its AIIMS. Cant get better than this. You are my brave girl, go for it. Don't worry Saurabh must have thought through this."</div>
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So my destiny has been written.</div>
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Saurabh treats me to an exotic Chinese lunch in the South Ex market. Calls are made to my mom, his mom, my brother explaining them that at 2pm today, Parul will be on her way to recovery. Prayers have begun. My Mom in Law even calls me and says, "I am getting scared. Hope you are fine!" No Ma, I am NOT. By the time our order comes, Saurabh has cracked the medical procedure which will be applied and tells me its Prolotherapy!</div>
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Now please don't search 'Prolotherapy Jaw Video' on Google as it will surely freak you out. We didn't look at the video and decided to take it as it comes!</div>
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Its 2:10 and we are called inside. The Doctor calls in four more junior doctors and I am told these four have Prolotherapy as their thesis topic so they will be spectators! Wow. That's very good. Saurabh has been asked to stay out. I insist I need him to hold my hand but the Doctor shoos him away. He looks happy too! I am alone along with the main Doctor, four students, three attendants and one patient-doctor duo who were on the adjacent chair but now taking a break as their procedure is so painful that I might lose patience if she makes a noise. Well.....the environment is all set.</div>
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Now let me not go into gruesome details but the therapy is inhuman and lasts 40 minutes- both sides. They inject me once very close to my ear, then draw my blood from my arms, then inject again below the ear, blood refuses to stop so they bandage it blah blah blah. I can see Saurabh peeping on me from a gap in the glass door and it hurts me to be shaking and crying silently with pain in front of him. I cannot shout as my mouth is stuffed with a plastic stopper. The juniors click my before and after pictures. They discuss how I will complete their number of research items- They needed five and I am the fifth. The procedure ends and while one doctor wraps a bandage around my face, Saurabh is called in for 'crucial instructions'</div>
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Give her rest.</div>
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She cannot talk</div>
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These are the medicines.</div>
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She cannot talk</div>
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Only liquids for a week.</div>
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She cannot talk</div>
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This bandage cannot come off for at least 5 days.</div>
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She cannot talk</div>
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Bring her back after a week..</div>
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She cannot talk</div>
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It seems now that ill get more ill not because of the pain in my jaw but because of the fact that I CANNOT TALK!</div>
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We are now headed back home. I am only crying. Cant sob as that will hurt my jaw. So my tears are flowing while Saurabh is answering calls from family on how I took the procedure. We reach home and I hate the way my kids look when they see me all bandaged. They look so sad and scared. I gesture them to come near me and sit holding their hands. I cannot kiss them as due to the anaesthesia I cannot feel my own face. They kiss me and I feel it :)</div>
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I am fine now and when I see the Doctor next Wednesday we ll know whether this treatment worked. Till then I CANNOT TALK !! :))</div>
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<div class="blogger-post-footer"><a href="http://www.blogadda.com" title="Visit blogadda.com to discover Indian blogs"> <img src="http://www.blogadda.com/images/blogadda.png" width="80" height="15" border="0" alt="Visit blogadda.com to discover Indian blogs" /></a></div>Parul Tyagihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08112145796387536421noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6088009922242402635.post-6883195332280898082014-03-06T10:25:00.000+05:302014-03-06T10:28:20.581+05:30My AIIMS scare - Part 1<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
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So most of you have been to the Taj. Not the hotel in your cities guys. But the Taj Mahal in Agra! Visiting the Taj Mahal and absorbing its beauty is deeply ingrained in us Indians. And why just us, its a worldwide phenomenon. I have been there too (I am normal that ways) but my take out of its beauty might not confirm to the majority. I didn't enjoy it so much due to all the filth, mismanagement and the fact that's its not White-its yellow. Anyways this is not the point of this post. The point is that all of us are aware of key symbols of pride of our country and at some point in our lives either we get to visit them or experience them- whether we want to or not.</div>
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<a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-hJy3WLC-5Y8/UxgAK7zoBqI/AAAAAAAADUs/P-pXpjHCFaI/s1600/aiims.png" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-hJy3WLC-5Y8/UxgAK7zoBqI/AAAAAAAADUs/P-pXpjHCFaI/s1600/aiims.png" height="211" width="320" /></a>All India Institute of Medical Sciences or AIIMS is one such symbol. I have lived in Delhi all my life and hence it has been a part of me like for any other Delhite. Either we have had relatives in it or we have been around it for some reason or the other. AIIMS in Delhi is located on the Ring Road which is its lifeline. Hence I cross it at least once a week and sometimes three or four times too. But I must confess, every time I cross it I say a silent prayer that I should never come to this place for any sort of a treatment. Simply because having to go to AIIMS would mean something really serious and that disturbs me. I have been inside it only once. Long back, along with Dad for his Cataract operation but that was literally in an out- thanks to the nature of that surgery. But those are faint memories and I never ever want them to be refreshed. I always wish that none of us should ever suffer enough that AIIMS is our resort. So what is again the point of this post?</div>
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I have mentioned some time back in this blog that I suffer from a joint disorder known as TMJ syndrome where my Jaw, in a layman's sense, is sort of dislocated. Actually there is a lock and key kind of mechanism in our knees, shoulders and jaw and well.....my Jaw lock is loosened. So while all of you can yawn, shout, chew vigorously and talk loudly, I cannot as my mouth clicks and hurts and I have to manually put the lower jaw back in its place- I know it sounds bad :(. For the past two months I am suffering even more as the condition got worse. So worse that we knew it needed medical intervention. Now for people like us such interventions are of two kinds- </div>
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1) Taking an appointment at a specialised and suave private clinic which has white walls and glass partitions. We dole out a thousand bucks to a pretty receptionist and the young Doctor then calls you five times before he gives the correct diagnosis. By then since you have spent 5000 rupees in his fees and half that price in petrol, you feel- He is a great doctor!</div>
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2) This option is actually never an option. But lately due to a relative who has some <em>'jugaad'</em> in AIIMS, my Mother in Law has been visiting it for random health problems like an eye check up, usual diabetes check up etc. Every time she got back she would tell us gory tales of how crowded this hospital is and what kind of people throng it- poor, needy and in pain. These tales reaffirmed my views that AIIMS is a place God should never take me or any of my family member. </div>
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Hence when she and Saurabh were convinced that I needed help they went in their own networks to figure out a solution. Saurabh obviously took the first and most known route and zeroed down on a specialist in an upmarket residential area who is an Oral and Maxillofacial Expert. Mom in Law obviously took the second route! She went ahead and booked appointments too and was all prepared to accompany me to this giant of a hospital. Her steadfastness made us nervous. How much ever you dread AIIMS, we are all aware that it IS the most trustworthy and advanced place for all your heath needs. Saurabh got on to the Internet (saviour of our generation) and assured me that AIIMS in fact was the first institute to have the Oral and Maxillofacial department in the country. He was convinced his Mom had made the right choice. I got more nervous as even he left my side that we could choose a private clinic and a handsome Doctor over a place I dislike- for no known reasons.</div>
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I cancelled the first appointment (somehow I managed it) but mothers are mothers. Ma took the second appointment quickly and her efficiency (driven by her concern) at doing so left us with no choice. So Saurabh took a half day from work yesterday and we were out of our house at 9 am, headed to AIIMS!</div>
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(I am in pain right now-you will know soon why hence I am going to write this post in two parts. I hope I have created enough curiosity for you to wonder what could be so fascinating about a simple appointment at AIIMS? Second Part tomorrow- I am off to resting now)</div>
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<div class="blogger-post-footer"><a href="http://www.blogadda.com" title="Visit blogadda.com to discover Indian blogs"> <img src="http://www.blogadda.com/images/blogadda.png" width="80" height="15" border="0" alt="Visit blogadda.com to discover Indian blogs" /></a></div>Parul Tyagihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08112145796387536421noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6088009922242402635.post-62213850589126826152014-02-07T10:29:00.000+05:302014-02-07T19:09:33.585+05:30Valentines Week Special: A pick up line that can never be used on me<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
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Love is supposedly in the air this month. Never really understood this mush but whatever. The way I have accepted the FB Movies fad I will accept that February is a month when love hormone is floating in the air with utmost intensity and may everyone who does not get love in January or August or October- find their love in this blessed month.</div>
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Now if I make two and two four, February is also the month which should have the most cheesiest lines thrown at girls from boys or at women from men? Yeah of course! The pick up lines, the serenading dialogues, the coochie cooing words and everything else in these categories. Now how many surveys have you read about the "Worst Pick Up Lines ever used on Women?". I know, I know- Its impossible to keep a count but you agree that you have read about them. Now if you are a woman, tell me which is the most irritating of all these lines? I guess the award for the most irksome but popular cheesy line goes to: <strong>"Hey, have I seen you somewhere?"</strong></div>
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Now being a woman I should be ideally hating it myself but you know what? There is a reason why I do not. I don't know if you ll believe this or not but apparently my face is such that I always-yes ALWAYS- give a feeling that people have met me before. <em>Arre Sach!!! </em>I am so bloody used to hearing this from Aunties, Uncles, Doctors, Friend's relatives, Teachers, Recruiters, Bus Conductors, Rocket scientists and World Leaders that I do two things now: <br />
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1) Don't mind. Smile. </div>
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2) Say politely: <em>Meri shakal hi aisi hai</em></div>
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I realised that people truly believe that they have seen me somewhere as I often heard people saying the same thing to my Dad. Since I resemble him I guess its a given that we have a face which is either a mixture of a lot of faces or our features are hopelessly common in nature that nothing really stands out for people to think- We are new! </div>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-lmAeCr7yoq8/UvNmRIpZ2RI/AAAAAAAAC_Q/-sSUc-MIiYQ/s1600/papa+and+me.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-lmAeCr7yoq8/UvNmRIpZ2RI/AAAAAAAAC_Q/-sSUc-MIiYQ/s1600/papa+and+me.jpg" height="240" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Do we look familiar?</td></tr>
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Having lived with these strange reactions from people it is only now that I have got my husband used to hearing this. Earlier he would get conscious if someone was trying to act smart with his wife but now he too nods his head agreeing with me that its no cheesy business. Its so creepy that now I even pre-empt that this person we are in conversation with will say what the next minute.</div>
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I remember that while making arrangements for my brother's wedding last year, Saurabh and I were at a place to meet a chef who would prepare food for our guests. We had been waiting for him for a while before he enters the room, fixes his eyes on me, shakes hands with me, tilts his head on one side as if thinking hard. Just then I looked at Saurabh and said,</div>
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"He also thinks he has met me before." </div>
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"Whoa," said the Chef. "Where have we met but?" </div>
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<div class="blogger-post-footer"><a href="http://www.blogadda.com" title="Visit blogadda.com to discover Indian blogs"> <img src="http://www.blogadda.com/images/blogadda.png" width="80" height="15" border="0" alt="Visit blogadda.com to discover Indian blogs" /></a></div>Parul Tyagihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08112145796387536421noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6088009922242402635.post-73630379409361433622014-01-22T12:09:00.002+05:302014-01-22T12:09:45.591+05:30When I was asked: "Where do you see yourself in ten years?" <div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
If you ever attended those preparatory classes for MBA entrance exams you must have rehearsed your 'unique' answer for this question many a times. The question that goes like: <strong>"Where do you see yourself in ten years?".</strong> I remember those geeky teachers in my Career Launcher days who psyched us that every college will ask you this dreaded question. The only two instructions we were given for preparing the answer were:<br />
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1) Never say the truth<br />
2) Never say- "Sir, in your seat"<br />
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My interview to get into MICA (My MBA college) didn't give me the chance to blurt out this answer. I don't remember the questions but clearly remember that I was not asked this! Two years at MICA came and went like tornado. Friends, hostel, mess food, credits, Ahmedabad- these things erased every instruction from my head and here I was at my first ever Campus Placement Interview with a Top most Media Planning Agency. </div>
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There were two people on the panel- A man and a woman. Both very senior and known people in the industry. I was shit nervous and damn sure I am not landing this job. An informal pre placement offer at the back of my mind relaxed me a bit and I thought- Lets just see what happens. After a random 'this and that' rant by my interviewers came the question that was/is/will always remain favourite of those who love interviewing. Only difference is- I had completely forgotten the 'right' answer for it now.</div>
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The woman interviewer- a successful, ambitious and brilliant professional sat back on her chair and asked: "Parul, where do you see yourself in ten years?"</div>
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Ten years meant 2014. Which is now. In the real world where am I after ten years? I am happily married. I have two adorable sons. I have ensured that I personally took care of them in their early years. I was fortunate to pursue my passion for writing and lucky to be a published author. I have tried my best to stay abreast with my professional expertise.</div>
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You know what? I gave my answer and I was not selected :). Not saying that they pointed out this reason but certainly this was the last thing they asked before I was instructed to send in the next person. They had put me in a waitlist and confirmed my name exactly ten minutes after the names of 7-8 selected candidates (My husband was one of them). So why is it that they didn't like my answer instantly? Maybe because I sounded too unambitious? Too informal? Too true?</div>
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<a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-S9714Ou1Dwc/Ut9l7s_uoVI/AAAAAAAAC2w/VNCKPxwS-G0/s1600/images.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-S9714Ou1Dwc/Ut9l7s_uoVI/AAAAAAAAC2w/VNCKPxwS-G0/s1600/images.jpg" height="117" width="320" /></a>In three days I leave for the same campus. To celebrate with my friends the completion of TEN years out of MICA. It is now that I reflect upon my naivety of saying what I said then and feel happy that I was indeed speaking from my heart and not mind.</div>
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My answer: <em>In ten years, hopefully I will be well settled in a marriage, raising a family just the way I want. At the same time I will give in my best to have settled professionally in order to pursue something creative alongside. Anything that is beyond a regular job which keeps me sane and satisfied.</em></div>
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<div class="blogger-post-footer"><a href="http://www.blogadda.com" title="Visit blogadda.com to discover Indian blogs"> <img src="http://www.blogadda.com/images/blogadda.png" width="80" height="15" border="0" alt="Visit blogadda.com to discover Indian blogs" /></a></div>Parul Tyagihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08112145796387536421noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6088009922242402635.post-25110820570813679892014-01-09T11:10:00.003+05:302014-01-09T11:17:59.284+05:3010 things we do differently as Mother and Sons<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
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Just about to celebrate the 5th birthday of my second son. Yeah that does make me sound very old but hey- I had babies early- OKAY?</div>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">V and N: Partners in crime. Partners for life</td></tr>
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Yeah so just yesterday I was observing the two extensions of mine having a time of their own in each other's company. They did not need me like they did not need the sofa I was sitting on. Point is, as they are growing up, my existence is limited to being a provider- Of food, toys, books, birthday plans and drives. My silent observations of their total withdrawal from me led me to make some comparisons. I was comparing how the same rituals and things of the past are now totally different. Here are the Top Ten Things in that list:</div>
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1) FOOD</div>
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<strong>Before:</strong> I cooked. They ate. They vomited. I cleaned. They digested. I was happy.</div>
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<strong>Now:</strong> I cook. They make faces. They demand. I argue. They persist. I cook. They are happy.</div>
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2) SLEEP</div>
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<strong>Before:</strong> All night up. All night crying. </div>
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<strong>Now:</strong> Both are early risers. Jump on my head as early as 7 am even on a Sunday!</div>
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3) Games</div>
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<strong>Before:</strong> Toys. Balls. Puzzles. Simplicity</div>
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<strong>Now</strong>: Does anyone have boys who DO NOT play cricket? My sons can play cricket all day, all night, all month, all year, all holidays, all school days, all summers, all monsoon!</div>
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4)TV</div>
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<strong>Before:</strong> I didn't get time for much TV</div>
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<strong>Now:</strong> I don't get time for much TV! Nobita and Chota Bheem should be banned in our country. </div>
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5) School</div>
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<strong>Before:</strong> Cried initially. Settled well gradually.</div>
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<strong>Now:</strong> In the words of my older one: "Whoever invented Schools should be sent to a jail and beaten blue!"</div>
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6) Clothes</div>
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<strong>Before:</strong> Bath. Clothes. Done</div>
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<strong>Now:</strong> Bath. They don't like the clothes I have chosen for the day. They themselves dig into the almirah. Wear Jeans even at home. They have favourite colours. And lately they have started commenting on what we wear too!</div>
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7) Parties somewhere outside</div>
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<strong>Before:</strong> Tried leaving them with <em>Dadi</em> but all we heard was- "Come back early. They are crying a lot"</div>
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<strong>Now:</strong> We want them to come along and they cry as they would rather be home!</div>
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8) Parties at our home</div>
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<strong>Before:</strong> Party started. Kids put to sleep</div>
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<strong>Now:</strong> "When will your friends come?", "Will they get kids?", "They get gifts for us?", "When will they go?", "No! We wont sleep early", "What will you do that we cant see?"</div>
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9) Papa</div>
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<strong>Before:</strong> Saurabh is a hands on Dad. Updated about everything-big or small.</div>
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<strong>Now:</strong> Saurabh continues to be what he was. They love him more than me!</div>
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10) Me</div>
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<strong>Before:</strong> I was there. I will be there. I should be there.</div>
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<strong>Now:</strong> I am there. I may not be there. They are infact happier when I am not at home as then <em>Dadi</em> can spoil them rotten :)</div>
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<div class="blogger-post-footer"><a href="http://www.blogadda.com" title="Visit blogadda.com to discover Indian blogs"> <img src="http://www.blogadda.com/images/blogadda.png" width="80" height="15" border="0" alt="Visit blogadda.com to discover Indian blogs" /></a></div>Parul Tyagihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08112145796387536421noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6088009922242402635.post-43930653024724248272014-01-02T14:40:00.000+05:302014-01-02T18:03:36.549+05:30Calendars on 1/1/Every year <div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
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Calendars hanging on the walls invoke a lot of nostalgia in me. The ones with birds, mountain peaks or animal faces- I have vivid memories of them. I always used to have one in my room while growing up. And the first thing I did with a new Calendar? Turn to the month of July (I was born in it) and see what picture it has. Invariably I used to find that particular picture the worst in the whole calendar and sulk through the year. Not to mention, sibling rivalry ensured that my brother who is a January born always had the best picture of the lot and thus worsened my agony.</div>
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Now for the past 8 years of running my own household, I have never invested in a calendar. In initial years I did get them from Mom in Law as she worked in a bank and often got good looking calendars from her clients but gradually she stopped sharing them with us. Both Saurabh and I saw no need of relying on calendars for dates. For the general aesthetics of how we wanted our house to be, we never hung them. So questions like- "<em>10th ko kya day padega?"</em> or <em>"Wednesday ko kya date hai?"</em> were all answered by our phones or simple mathematics of going on adding 7 to today's date :)</div>
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<a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-pJ-01zFMeSQ/UsUsjgkTLiI/AAAAAAAACtA/A-nrWFCFh_I/s1600/31.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" height="200" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-pJ-01zFMeSQ/UsUsjgkTLiI/AAAAAAAACtA/A-nrWFCFh_I/s200/31.jpg" width="200" /></a>But this calendar culture has some everlasting memories attached. To me every 1st of January was associated with changing calendars around the house. Choosing which calendar should be put in our room (the kids room) and which should go in Ma-Papa's room. They would come rolled so we used to open them, roll them the other side, figure out the small red string on the top, hang them all neatly on the designated nail and of course then turning the pages to see days of all our important events like our birthdays and parents' anniversary. This activity in my memory is synonym to how the first day of every year would be spent.</div>
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Just yesterday my sons got their homework notebooks and insisted that I take some sort of a dictation. I wondered the reasons behind kids being proactive about Dictations. But I realised soon that they were both excited to write a new year in the date that they mention on top right. They wrote with excitement- 1 slash 1 slash 14! Maybe this is the excitement I had with those colourful calendars on my walls. </div>
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Oh these silly memories and their associations. Years are turning still but no pages are carrying them now :)</div>
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<div class="blogger-post-footer"><a href="http://www.blogadda.com" title="Visit blogadda.com to discover Indian blogs"> <img src="http://www.blogadda.com/images/blogadda.png" width="80" height="15" border="0" alt="Visit blogadda.com to discover Indian blogs" /></a></div>Parul Tyagihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08112145796387536421noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6088009922242402635.post-50364914576001466582013-12-16T12:12:00.000+05:302013-12-16T15:01:20.047+05:30Crossed her path today...<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
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I am not saying that just because I live in Delhi, the brutality of the gang rape hit me harder than any other woman in this world. But you know something happened last night which sort of made me feel the brutality a little bit closer than it ever had. As someone who has moved a zillion times on Delhi Roads, when I read the name of the Bus Stop from where she boarded the bus to the route it took while the horror was being committed, I sort of connect instantly. I have never personally stood at that particular place and I am sure whoever is there everyday, even now, must be remembering her each time.</div>
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But last night, just as my phone showed the time as 00:00 and thus the date changed, through a strange coincidence, I was getting down the flyover which ends at the place this girl was thrown by the monsters, along with her friend. I was in my car, secure with my husband. There was a lot of traffic (it is a busy road even at midnight), my children were sleeping at home safely, my parents had just messaged me goodnight, my brother and his wife, who I had spent the evening with, were constantly in touch with me on my phone if we have reached or crossed the toll etc.. But just as we got down the decline, I was fully aware that this was the exact spot where she was abandoned to die, exactly an year back. I did become part of the National outrage post this crime and expressed solidarity and anger and irritation and helplessness. But somewhere, like everyone else, I had moved on. I celebrated my children's birthdays, I took three holidays, I danced crazy at parties, I laughed my eyes out with friends, I married off my brother and did many other things which a normal person had done, is doing and will do.</div>
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Why then when I turned my gaze to the left to once see that place, something stopped inside my heart. Did I feel shallow? Scared? Hurt? Shameful? Guilty? I have no idea. All I felt was a numbness. I immediately turned to look at my husband who is the guy I share my life with. There was nothing unusual on his face. He looked at peace as we would soon reach home. I took solace in his calmness and decided to not share the sudden hollowness with him. The moment passed and I was soon worried about usual things like why is he driving so fast and how will I wake up early tomorrow morning. Did my connection with that horror emerge just because I was at that exact place where that girl was? </div>
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<a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-xoqZRRgZzkM/Uq6fryO2y5I/AAAAAAAACpE/9EPJXNi4MOY/s1600/imagesCA0HRVD0.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" height="133" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-xoqZRRgZzkM/Uq6fryO2y5I/AAAAAAAACpE/9EPJXNi4MOY/s200/imagesCA0HRVD0.jpg" width="200" /></a>Yes. It was a way to let the woman in me know that this city could let me down at any point of time leaving my kids, husband, brother and parents totally helpless. It was a way to remind the mother in me that I am raising two sons who I have to teach to respect the gender their mother belonged to. It was a way to rekindle the human in me to stop for a minute and experience the enormity of this date. </div>
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Spare a minute to shut your eyes and say a small prayer for that family who have lost one of them because a bunch of fellas decided to do so!</div>
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<div class="blogger-post-footer"><a href="http://www.blogadda.com" title="Visit blogadda.com to discover Indian blogs"> <img src="http://www.blogadda.com/images/blogadda.png" width="80" height="15" border="0" alt="Visit blogadda.com to discover Indian blogs" /></a></div>Parul Tyagihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08112145796387536421noreply@blogger.com0