Lunches and bananas

At work I start fidgeting around 12:00 noon. "Oh dear its about time." In another 15-30 minutes or so depending on if I am in a conversation with a colleague or student and my ability or the lack of it to make an abrupt exit, I rush back home. On the way I press my Mom10 watch and switch from office mode to mother mode. Our friends drop RRJ home from school at 12:45.

As we walk up the stairs, I get to know who gave him trouble and who was nice to him. They get some imaginary blows and pats as per their karma. On entering home RRJ spots the basketball lying around in the balcony and starts dribbling for a while, then he straight heads for his computer, switches on the speakers and puts 'guzarish' of ghajini and makes me laugh with his Aamir Khan swagger in slow motion. The other songs that we listen to during lunch time are jai ho, piu bole, panchee nadiya and Roberta Flack's really old song "killing me softly". In between I eat lunch, RRJ wrestles with the lunch and then I give him the remaining food on his plate. The wrestling time is usually controlled as per my time commitments at 2:00 pm. Then he becomes 'dadu' for a while by removing the shirt and being in the vest and school shorts. Then I nag while I pack his daycare bag and slowly he changes in to a fresh set of clothes.

Then we make our way to day care singing louder than the racket my scooter makes at my super speed of 20 kmph. If we have time my scooter goes bananas and goes in to roads which are not on our way and then comes back the right way and then over shoots the destination and turns around and overshoots again and so on. While our carbon footprints get oversize we giggle and laugh and happily head for daycare and office respectively. Those are the good days. But life is not haha heehee, one of the many days when we get late, I had a series of meetings lined up for which I was in no mood to reach late for. I fed him, so lunch was fast, saved time on cleaning as well. RRJ obliged by changing his dress on his own while I got the day care bag ready. I come out of kitchen and he was already in the balcony. Good, superboy. I reach balcony. Not so good, sandals are yet to be worn, and superboy hanging on the rope meant for spiderman. A yell later we find the sandals. He slips his feet in but velcro had to be done by amma. Amma dutifully bends and both her purse and day care bag come off shoulder. Velcro secured, the bags back on shoulder, time to spare 15 minutes. Amma is the calmest ever, thinking, "I can even park the scooter near my office building and walk down to the other buidling for the meeting". Sweat trickles down her back. Amma kick starts the scooter which needs battery replacement for maybe a year now. Scooter starts in one try. RRJ in the meantime does his usual walking ahead and waiting like in a bus stop, shows his hand, I stop and he gets on and we reach the first left turn and then lightening strikes "Ammaaaaa... scooter said he will go bananas in the lunch time". No-no-nonono not today pleeease no time for bananas or bahamas.

"But the scooter told me. Amma..... please amma." Amma is caught off guard and responds by turning the accelerator, she is bad at handling "please amma" under pressure. Amma crosses her highest speed ever at 40 kmph. She looks as stern as possible, under the circumstances it wasn't difficult at all. We stop at the day care. RRJ seeing amma's determined look makes a peace offer " okay, I will go only if scooter goes bananas in the evening." Amma loses it now, forgets she is the adult here. "Scooter will not go bananas for many days". We make our way to the door, amma stomping ahead and RRJ dragging his feet behind. Pops out the maam. "What happened, RRJ is not looking happy?" RRJ looks sideway generally at nothing, very devdas like stance. " He wants a scooter ride" amma tries to make it clear it is not her fault after all.
"No. Not just ride, I want bananas."
"Whats wrong with bananas, you can surely give him bananas. They are good for health. And specially for him being so skinny."
"We would love if he had bananas, but he doesn't."
"But why don't you give him bananas, does he wheeze?"
"He wheezes but I don't think it is because of bananas, we want him to have bananas. As for now, he is asking for a scooter ride."
Eyes roll, RRJ continues his stare in to nothing and its not clear why amma bothers to justify herself. More sweat trickles down her back. A look at the watch and she knows she will get that oh-she-has-a-small-child look as and when she makes it for the meeting. On her way back, she presses her mom10 watch and her skin thickens by an order of magnitude as she switches back to her kick-ass office mode, comes in handy on such occasions.

Piles to go before I sleep

Accidents do happen. Against all your hopes and prayers they do. A misguided rocket entered into our other bedroom, making a big hole in the netlon and landing right in the middle of the piles of exam papers that I was one eighteenth done with. Boom, how that boom 'broke' our 'ghoom'. I entered the room, the sight was most alarming. The mattress was up in flames and the fire was rapidly consuming the pages and pages of clearly written answer sheets of the exam last week. In my attempts to quash the fire I had to use what I could lay my hands on, which was one of the piles which was still intact. I dumped it on the fire which seemed to do the trick. It became all very smoky and there were a few minor flare ups which needed some more quashing. I found the exam paper copies and the solution and the marking scheme neatly kept on the side. They also went and thankfully the fire was gone, phew! And then it struck me that with the fire was gone every little evidence of the exam I gave last week to my class. Dear me! What will I do, I can't possibly conduct another exam. Perhaps I will just prorate the previous mid-term's marks which was conducted as well as corrected by the co-teacher while was gallivanting in Malta. Yeah, prorate we did, just like the exams got canceled because earth quakes consumed my school on a monthly basis and presentations got postponed as the power-grid near by collapsed, no power no power point etc. etc. We all know that line of thought.

As if it was not painful enough, RRJ, knowing his mother well, has taken the responsibility of representing each student's case. Now I have to justify why I am giving anyone less than 10, you see esteemed lawyer Ben10 has a got a thing for number ten. Any less and he is up in arms. I am sure there is some silver lining to all this, I don't know what that may be....

Bombing the D-day

The day started with a bang, literally. To be factually correct it started with a bang-bang-bang-bang..... Some diwali fanatic's successful attempt to let the world within 2 km radius around him know the exact number representative of his well developed IQ at 5:00 in the morning. And then Mayhem followed. People! Anyhow, I didn't let my annoyance come in the way of trying out some grenades myself. Aha, you see diwali has got to be celebrated in style.

RRS had insisted that if I plan to do any frying for diwali then it should include that alu chop kind of thing he had the first time he came to my then home. Ma had very sweetly prepared a bunch of them, and my father in his characteristic appreciative style announced their arrival on the table " Oh here come the famous grenades". New to our family, RRS's usual equanimity received a severe jolt and he looked pretty much ready to bolt. For a fleeting moment he felt perhaps this was some kind of planned attack on him by disgruntled parents for showing undue interest in their daughter. And then he saw the 'grenades', and the whiff of fried alu reached him, his hand automatically reached for one. A few of them and he was completely sold to the grenade launching family.

So like the dutiful wife I am, I got the recipe from my mother and the morning was well spent rolling the alu mash balls in bread covering to be fried later in the evening. What else: making some gojas (recipe from my cousin), chole is ready, some bought sweets and some crackers. Very determined to wear a silk saree (have been doing every diwali for last 4 years!) which hasn't seen the light of the day for last ten years. That is our Diwali this time. Formally invited only students, a bit anxious about that. Somehow still not comfortable with the whole idea. I guess I will survive. Hopes are friends will drop in later and it will all end very well. Happy Diwali to you all!

Kabhi Khushi Kabhi Gham

Just finished a class and I am fluttering like a butterfly. There is something so crazy about the way butterflies flutter from one place to another. They go zig zag on a completely random path, one minute they look static and the next they are a meter away. Said simply, I am very bouncy and just so full of myself. Let me explain, today's class being in the post lunch hour tends to be very difficult, as most students come just for the attendance. If they remain awake then prefer the local chit-chat over the global event of my lecture. In a class of 150 students under the conditions I mention it is of course note worthy that in the last quarter of the class today I managed to engage the class in a discussion which led to them developing some of the ideas rather than me telling it step by step. Yay I feel like Kapil Dev would have felt holding the world cup in 1983. It is that rare an event.

Then there are days right after the class when I sulk for hours, shout at others and counter argue anything anybody has to say. Just because I couldn't answer the simplest of questions which results in more local chit-chat and the global lecture becomes a local event for me in which I mutter and stutter and doodle on the board and rub the doodle and more doodle. Boo hoo I feel like every other captain of Indian cricket team ever since then.

There is not an iota of doubt in my mind that if not few at least one person in the classroom is following the course very closely. The exam next week will surely confirm that that person is only me.

Friendly firing

Is it okay to keep mum when you disagree with your friend? Is it okay to ignore the feeling that you know why they are having the problem they are talking about and don't say anything as it might hurt them. It is difficult to know when a friend wants just a listener (always?) and when a solution provider (never?). Any chit-chat lasting more than exchanging pleasantaries results in at least one of the situations mentioned above. What does one do?

I guess it depends on what the topic of discussion is, how you present your case and of course the gender of your friend. By hit and trial it seems that it is safer to stay clear of making any comments other than positive on the beliefs and views of my friends about their religion, profession, spouses, children and family. Yes we still manage to find somethings to talk about! Since I am rather free with my opinion or fundas on every other thing, it requires certain level of guard. A slip here and there and one can end up hurting friends quite unintentionally.