46 posts tagged “vasundara”

Chess

When it takes one hour to defeat your soon-to-be-six year old in chess, it means (a)  you suck at chess or (b) the kid is good.

Maternal vanity makes me choose (b).

Parenting

"If you don't finish up your Dosai, no karate class for you".

"If you don't clean up the room, no more books for you".

"If you don't finish up your lunch in school, no more lunch for you"

"If you don't braid your hair, it will fall off".

"If you don't drink up your milk, you are going to end up with osteoporosis like kollu paati".

All of the above within a span of 20 minutes. I am well on my way to becoming a professional blackmailer.  Anyone need my services?  Charges nominal.

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Soon-to-be-six: "If you tell a lie, God will dance in your brain and you will get irritated" 

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Neighbour:            What do you want to be when you grow up?
Soon-to-be-six:      A big girl.

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Soon-to-be-six:  "I don't like boys.  They are rash".
Mom ruminating: "I'd like to hear that in ten years.  ummm..on second thoughts, I don't think so."

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Soon-to-be-six: They show Tom&Jerry and Mr. Bean on TV during AV period in school. I don't like it.  I want to read my book.
Mom ruminating"YESSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSS".

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You are invited.

Kolu 2009

3 comments

Vasundaras kolu

Farm and jungle

Garden

My five-and-half year old stands on tip toes on a chair next to me, and says,

"See, I am standing next to you. We are now married.  And I am taller than you.  So, I am the husband."

It is sometimes unbelievable how emotionally mature children are.  Today, as I sat on the couch making clay (thanks, Mathangi) butterflies and flowers with the child, I inadvertently mentioned to her that I seem weary so often and I wish I had more energy.  The child says this:

"You are always running around..  Why can't you take a five minute break now and then like I do?  Even when you are taking a break, you are always worrying about what you should do next.  Why are you always worried about me and if I ate or not? You have to be patient (the exact words she used being "Porumaiyaa irukkanum").  Do you know why appa is never tired?  Appa takes a break from his computer and relaxes now and then. He never rushes about his work and does everything slowly.  You are always rushing. ".

I am willing to swear over any holy or unholy book that every bit of the above quotation is true. 

Either I am so obviously scatterbrained and stressed that even a wee babe can see it, or my child has it in her to become a psychologist or psychiatrist (Purplesque, beware of competition a few decades from now).  And beyond the baby-talk and pigtails,  I could see my mother talking to me.

But the point is, will I listen?

BackToSchool

My daughter's vacation ends and school starts tomorrow.  She is pretty indifferent about it unlike her mother who is shaking with excitement and also nervous and is behaving much like a cat on a hot tin roof.   Excited because her little baby is going to first standard now - she can still vividly remember the juicy kicks she got when the kid was inside her.

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Back during school years, I would always look forward to the first day of school after summer vacation.  The glow on every child's face, the sights and smells of school (not near the toilets though), the new uncomfortable uniforms, biting new shoes, the new school satchel, newly covered books, the excitement of knowing who would be in my section that year (there was "shuffling" every year), who my class teacher would be...and so on.

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While at school, I was part of the school choir.  The dramatics club would stage musicals now and then and despite my secret hope of being chosen to play a part on stage, I was always delegated to the side stage, as an alto, which in itself was not necessarily bad; at least I did not have to wear makeup.  A lot of effort went into these musicals, and I wonder where the teachers got the energy from, to herd a group of children and bid them do their stuff.  I distinctly remember a musical called "Thumbalina" where the title role was played by a rather short classmate of mine.  I don't remember any of the songs in it though, it was staged when I was in primary school.

We also staged a musical called "The Prodigal Son" (from the Testament), and for some reason, one of the songs in the musical has been running in my head all day today.  It seems to fit my own ruminations of the past few weeks. The song goes thus:

There seem to be several people
Locked up inside of me
Fighting a constant battle
For my identity
Sometimes they keep me prisoner
Sometimes they set me free
Is one of them my true being?
Is one of them really me?

Who am I? 
Just a dreamer of dreams?
Who am I?
Quite a failure it seems?
No, A Hero.
The Idol of the crowd.

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I can't seem to get over the vacation mood.  Got a deadline in a week, and not even a semblance of sense yet.  One of these days I am going to go into hyper panic and I hope my Vox will be ready at that time for verbal outflow of tension.

This deadline is weird.  The requirements are so abstract that I am not even sure I can write anything.  Which is not good because right now, I am the only one in the company who can write, and if I get into a real or perceived mental block, the boss is not going to be a happy camper. 

HELP !

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Read an interesting book (for sake of internet censorship, I won't mention the name of the book), which is an ancient Indian treatise on some essential social umm...customs and practices....that mentions in the passing what makes a good wife.  Of course, it is all atrociously chauvinistic.  It says that one of the requirements of a good "house wife" (which itself is an aggravatingly cliched term) is that she maintains a thriving garden.  I suppose the author would find me an adequate "housewife" in that regard.  My garden, after many years of toil and sweat is just about beginning to respond.  But I won't talk anymore about it lest I jinx it.

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For a birthday treat, we had dinner at a restaurant called "Georgio" in Besent Nagar (Thanks for the tip Gayathri).  Good place. Decent ambience. They even had a projected show of the live World Cup cricket match that junior insisted on watching while eating.  Their Mamos were to die for, and main course was good too.  Desert however, was sadly lacking.  Try it out if you have some moolah to burn and event to celebrate.

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End of Ramble. 

MeanMan

We put in a magic powder on the story.  Then we jumped inside the story. I had a magic scale, and my friends too. I said the magic word and it showed me the way to the two children's home. I said to them, I will help you find the mean man and get your books back.  The scale showed us the way.  It pointed cross, my friend called Gita told me "look, there is a hieroglyphics pyramid". I said to her, "Maybe the hieroglyphics will show us the way to the mean man's cave".

Hieroglyphics

We rushed to the pyramid and I looked through a magic glass and saw the hieroglyphics.  The hieroglyphics said that you have to cross the big Obelisk, then you have to cross the big great Sphinx, and then you will find the mean man's cave.

But how could we get there, it is so far away, I wondered.  My friends said, "maybe we can go with the magic".  "Great Idea", I said. I said the magic word to the magic scale, and a car appeared. We climbed aboard the car.  When I said the magic word, the car drove by itself without anyone driving it.  

I said "There is the obelisk. My friend wondered how are we going to get through the obelisk.  I put in a magic word again, the car changed into an aeroplane and started flying over the obelisk.

CloseUpGreatSphinx

Then we saw the great sphinx.  We then crossed the great Spinx.  Then, we got to the mean man's cave.  The mean man said "What? Why have you come here" in a grunty voice.  I said, I will fight with you, if you won't give me back the children's book.  The mean man was so angry that he took out his magic wand and started to fight with me.

I had magic peas that I put in my head and washed it away, I became very fast.  Then, I put a magic spell on him, that the wind blew him away and he fell into a river. 

I got the children's books and gave it to them.  The children said "thank you" and went home happily.  

We came out of the book and we were very happy to save them.

That's all.

[[This is a story that I took down long hand as my five year old daughter dictated as she made it up impromptu.]]

Give the digital camera to a five year old to keep her out of your hair for half-an-hour and what do we have?

Even in such randomness, there were some really nice ones.  The lighting was conducive, I guess.

Painting

Office room

Window

2 comments

I visited my daughter's teacher's house for some reason today.  I was pleasantly surprised to see the painting that V made for the teacher displayed prominently in the living room.  The teacher introduced me to her kin as "this is the mother of my student Vasundara who painted this picture".

I realised that Valluvar was indeed right when he said this:

Kural