Couldn't give it a tittle

जीवन से इतना प्रेम भी नही,
की मरने का डार हो,
जीवन में इतना ज्ञान भी नही,
की जीवित होने का आभास हो!

जहाँ गया खामोशी, शांति को ढूंढ़ते हूऐ,
आंतरिक शोर को भूल गया मैं,
भूला नही हूं,
बस भूलने की चाह में घूमता हूं मैं!

इतना कुछ पढ़ता हूं, गुरु से,
विवाद कर सकता हूं मैं,
ख़ुद से विवाद और अज्ञानता में,
हर रोज़ हारता हूं मैं !

Trying my hand at Poetry

Wrote these poems a couple of months back, thought of putting them on blog in the new year!
व्यक्ति
===============
हर व्यक्ति अपने व्यक्तित्व
के गहरे और उथले पन से
औरों के व्यक्तित्व को
आंकता है!

हर शब्द, हर वाक्य को
तोल मोल के
अपने ही मस्तिक्ष मैं एक अर्थ एक पराया देकर
उसे कटाक्ष और टिपण्णी का रूप दे देता है!

हर व्यक्ति अपने व्यक्तित्व
के गहरे और उथले पन से
औरों के व्यक्तित्व को
आंकता है!

किसी रिश्ते को जीवन
जीने का कारण बनाता है
कुछ और रिश्तों की श्रंकला को तोड़ कर,
उन्ही रिश्तों मे
अपने को ढूँढता और खो देता है !

हर व्यक्ति अपने व्यक्तित्व
के गहरे और उथले पन से
औरों के व्यक्तित्व को
आंकता है!

ऐश्वर्य, अहम्,अहंकार और सम्मान
के पीछे सारा जीवन व्यतीत करके
जीवन संध्या मे
क्या खोया क्या पाया हिसाब करता है !

हर व्यक्ति अपने व्यक्तित्व
के गहरे और उथले पन से
औरों के व्यक्तित्व को
आंकता है!

=====================
विचार
उसने कहा समय के गर्भ में,
पनपते हैं विचार , अविष्कार,
मेरे उदासीन देमाग ने एक नज़र नज़र उसकी ओर देख कर सोचा,
क्यूँ अभी तक इतनी उतेजना है इसमें!



विचारों का क्या, हर रोज़ चले आते हैं,
क्या मिला है इन विचारों से मुझे,
विचारों का क्या, रोज़ ले जाते हैं मुझे,
हर उस जगह जहाँ जाना नहीं है मुझे!

विचारों का क्या, हर रोज़ एक नयी उमंग से,
लाते हैं एक नयी उम्मीद एक नयी सम्भावन,
विचारों का क्या, शोर माचाते हैं,
मस्तिष्क की दीवारों से टकरा कर चूर जो जाते हैं!

अचानक एक आवाज़ दूर नहीं पास कहीं से बोली ,
विचारों का नहीं है शोर,
शोर तो तुम मचा रहे हो ,
विचारों से युद्ध लढ़ के!


उदासीन देमाग नहीं है तुम्हरा,
उदासीन विचोअरों को पाल रहे हो तुम आपने समय में
उसने फिर कहा , समय के गर्भ में
पनपते हैं विचार , अविष्कार !

=============================

Goa 2010 Trip

Travelogues are difficult piece to write, since if not written properly they either sound ramblings or become uninteresting to the reader. The use of word “then” too often is a sure way of making it close to rambling of sorts. This is an attempt to steer clear of these two pitfalls. Plus more than a travelogue it’s a narration of our holiday at the Varca resort.

Everyone has been to Goa, or has heard from their friends about Goa. God’s own country is far by any standards to go to, but almost everyone can make it to Goa. So there is not much new that one can write. However, Goa took a new meaning if one looks at it from the eyes of a two year old.

On being asked where he went for the holiday, the little one replies as a matter of fact, BIG JUNGLE. For a kid who is just touching 3 feet, the tall trees, bushes, and wide stretches of grass was surely a jungle. We were housed at Club Mahindra Varca beach resort, and for once decide to just stay put at the resort and enjoy the beach and resort facilities without venturing out to other beaches or churches. We have seen all those on our previous visit and the kid is too young to understand. This meant three days of unadulterated leisure. For a coastal area the weather was at its best with a few rain showers, sunny days and breezy evening.

The first night by the time we all got dressed and refreshed for the dinner, it had started raining cats and dogs. I was in no mood to opt for a room service. Rain or no rain I wanted to be out of the room, it also doesn’t help that our kid is never at his best behavior in confined space. Thanks to the resort arrangements, we had two sturdy umbrellas in the rooms. For Rohan this itself was a thrilling adventure. Bundled up in his father’s arm, with rain pouring around him, and the umbrella towering over his little head, we walked to the dinning section, which was a good 10 minutes walk from our studio apartment.

The food at the resort was a decent spread, though nothing special. However our need for simple food, which we could enjoy and also feed our son, was met. The desserts were surely nice with a new kind of mousse for each meal, and the hot jalebis in the lunch spread for the last day of our stay sealed the deal. The breakfast spread was sumptuous and offered something for everyone. South Indian dishes idll, dosa, wadda and pongal. Paratha, puri and potato curries from north. English breakfast if you may please with bread, omelet, juice and pancakes. All these fit our bill to the T, and the pancakes with honey seemed to have the hit the bull’s eye with the kiddo. Rohan had a special fancy to the wide stairs in the dinning area, and would inform loud and clear for all to hear , “Mummy , Daddy I am sitting here”, and plunk himself in the middle of the stairs , oblivious of the danger of someone tripping and dropping food on him. However the Saxophone sling musician didn’t amuse him , rather left him with a quivering lip which mummy had to fix with tons of kisses and assurance that it was just a trumpet!!!

The rains on the first night of our arrival, were followed by a light shower in the afternoon the next day, however since we had by then retired for a siesta by then it only helped in making the evenings extremely pleasant.

Neither of us know how to swim, however Rohan’s excitement to go “swimming pool”, made us venture to the pool. The little one’s excitement vanished as soon as the cool water of the pool touched his feet. He squealed, but refused to even sit on my lap. The only way to make him enjoy was to carry him in my arms and suddenly sit down in the pool so he too got drenched. Though he did enjoy and refused to go back, but he refused to get down my arms too. We ventured into the pool only in the morning on the second day of the visit. However other guests used to be in the pool the whole day long, playing water sports, having fun with water spouts which were some sort of pool Jacuzzi.

The resort with its beautifully laid garden and cottages was a delight. Rohan had a field day running across the resort behind the butterflies, stopping to research each caterpillar, each dead or alive crawling insect. The only way to make him move from these hot spots was to call for him again after having left him there for a few minutes. On being asked, “Are you coming”, he would judge if we really had walked away too far, or were not visible to him, he would reply “want to come”. Thanks to the rains, Rohan got to observe a frog at close quarters for good fifteen minutes before we ran out of patience.

The resort is situated on the Varca beach. A ten-minute walk through the property leads one to a small bridge over a narrow brook like water body, and beyond the bridge is vast sand filled beach and the beautiful ocean. The sand of this beach is as smooth as wheat flour, and very fine grained. Though I can’t swim but I just adore the sea, and can spend hours walking on the beach with the waves lapping against my legs. However the enormity of the sea, and the sound of the waves didn’t humor the little one. He just refused to get down. On being cajoled he just hid his head in my neck and closed his eyes.

We saw no point in pushing him. He was extremely happy playing in sand, making dunes with his little hands, and filling small holes with help of the seashells I had picked for him. We let him do that , and ventured into the sea one at a time.

The beach was clean, and the pleasant weather added to the fun. By evening, all the resort guests would end up at the beach. There were certain water sports like water scooter, boats and para sailing, however other than the water scooter ride, we didn’t indulge in any of these. I saw no fun, in the little one stressing out while I went for scooter ride. He was wailing his heart out if I waded in too far into the sea from the beach where he was sitting.

The mornings on the resort were the complete “me” time for myself. With the father and the son tucked cozily, snuggling into each other. I would wake up by six, make my self a good coffee and sit on the sit out with my steaming cup. For the caffeine addicted me, the coffee is an essential part of starting the day, and if that can be had in natures lap, the experience is almost exhilarating.

Most of the resorts have a spa or massage center. The two hour massage is a good break from the never ending tasks we otherwise seem to fill our days with. It was an awesome way of spending the birth day, with a spa session booked for me by my husband who is always surprising me with his ability to fix things without me finding out.

Unlike our other trips, this was a complete leisure trip. There was no “next what” moment. We woke up at leisure, would have a leisurely breakfast and then walk around the resort facilities. Rohan had so much to see and it was wonderful to experience the nature through his eyes. A mere chameleon fascinated him so much that he burst into tears when the chameleon climbed up in the tree beyond his vision. Watching him run behind crows just made us watch and smile.

Post spending few hours on the beach, a nice hot water followed by meal was perfect. It was first time that we spent time out in the gardens walking and sitting at various spots; because the little dude would be wide awake till good 10:00 PM in the night. A final stern order to let us sleep and asking him to go out would help to make him close his eyes and eventually drift to sleep.

Much to our chagrin, the excitement of “Gowa”, as Rohan pronounces it was carried too the aircraft too and the little one jumped all the way from Goa to Hyderabad, and fell asleep only few minutes before the landing.

Overall the stay and travel were fun. I do not care if it was real “Goa” or not, but the trip fit my bill to the T.

My Morning with Rohan!

सुबह अख़बार पढने का समय नहीं है अब,
एक छोटा सा चेहरा, नन्हे हाथों से
पलकों को ज़बरदस्ती खोलता है
सुबह सुबह मेरे चेहरे पे अपनी प्यार की स्याही से
एक खूबसूरत कहानी लिख देता है

चाय को टी कह कर पहचानता है
चाय के गरम कप को छु कर खिलखिलके हंस पड़ता है
फीकी भी बनाओ तो चाय मीठी कर देता है

जिद्द पकड़ के रोना, गुस्से मैं ,चीखना
छोटी सी बात पर आंसुओं का झर झर बहना,
"मम्मी ऑफिस नो" कह कर माँ को रोकना,
और कुछ ही पल में खेल में फिर बहल जाना


वक़्त के साथ बदल जाओगे तुम भी,
बदलाव ही एक सची है आज और कल भी,
पर माँ बनने का गौरव दिया है तुमने,
मेरे लिए "नोनन" ही रहोगे तुम सदा, आज और कल भी!

The Toys We Played With!

Watching my son play with his toys always make me think about toys I had as kids. Now that I think of it there few toys and games that are so clearly etched in my memory.

Mona Doll, stands out like a doll would for any girl. I didn’t name the doll Mona. The doll came in a transparent plastic cover with a paper stapled to close the cover mouth and on the paper the name was “Mona Doll”, so Mona it was.
It had blue eyes and big eyelashes. The eyelids used to open and close when the doll was moved horizontally and vertically. Every girl has a doll like that. Clear skin, golden hair ,lips painted pink just parted in a beautiful perfect smile. Oh how I loved her (mind you people love “her” not “it”). She came with a brown frock. With white lace and a flowered brown apron kinds covering the lower half of the frock. She even had a white soft Lycra underwear (Lycra had not been branded as “You Either Have It Or You Don’t” , till then, hence a little girls doll had a Lycra underwear). That was one of the highlight because all other dolls just had frocks and no one bothered to put an underwear. By gods grace no one had done a Barbie like detailing to Mona. So she had a flat plastic body. And thank god for that, our dolls didn’t tell us more than we were required to know at that age.

So Mona was the apple of my eye. I must have made a mess by washing her clothes and then covering her with other clothes by the time this brown frock had dried, that it prompted my mother to stitch a frock for Mona. Ma stitched a blue color frock. What surprises me that in the busy schedule that my doctor mother had she had time for taking out sewing machine and stitch stuff for us. All our white under frocks or slips as we call them now were stitched by her. She ones bought some readymade stuff, but somehow we went back to what she used to stitch. So Mona had two dresses, but one underwear. The zealous but disorganized kid that I was I eventually misplaced the underwear somehow. So here was Mona without an underwear. Must have been the biggest blasphemy of my life then. I must have pestered my parents enough for my father to have taken the project of giving a permanent underwear to Mona.

I clearly remember Baba with a pair of scissors, needle and cloth that ma must have discarded for us to waste. But what a perfect job he did. He gave Mona a blue underwear which made to fit. The little girl in me was happy and my parents were peaceful now that I couldn’t take out the garment and misplace it again!

When and how and where did Mona go, I don’t remember. But I guess we just grow up without realizing.

I don’t have memory of any other Toy per se. But I remember various board games my elder sister and me grew up on.

Scrabble, every kid of our generation has owned it. Played and fought over the words being proper nouns or spelling being checked in dictionary, which was allowed or disallowed depending on how generous the other sibling felt that particular day. Now being the younger one who till today is miserable with spellings, I was the one who had to beg didi to let me check the spelling. And oh! it was so so disallowed to check other words in dictionary other than what you had planned to make. What quarrels would ensue if you broke that rule. Oh my god, it makes me laugh so much now. How important was all that then! Life was so much simple but seemed maha- complex because your sister was on 120 points while you had a paltry 40 points.

Business, or Monopoly, I am not sure if we bought it or someone gifted it. The summer holidays that we have spent playing this game are some of the fond memories I have. The monopoly we had, had paper currency. Most of our friends had plastic coin currency. The plastic currency was easier to manage, then the paper one we had. Plus if you had me as a sister you had the work of threatening her with dire consequences if she tore the paper currency. Oh how I would be careful while playing and year eventually I think I tore a 2000 note. It was red in color. I even remember that 20 was indigo blue, 10 was yellow. You could buy Indore, Delhi and some other cities. Indore I remember cause it was one of the first few cities which if we got the dice right.
Chinese Checkers, we actually had this long wooden board which had Chinese Checkers at one end and the Ludo on other. It had nice pink, blue, red, yellow and green color. The board was very sturdy indeed it survived me. I even remember the texture of the colors on that board. We must have played a zillion set of games of Ludo and CC on this.

Snake and Ladder. We had this folding board made of hard paper which folded in the center. Somehow the snakes hated me. I remember loosing this game almost to all and sundry.

Peg 5. Now this was not a very common game. I have seen different versions of this game with various people. We had a 10 by 10 peg board, with black and red pegs. The players were supposed to create line of 5 pegs horizontally, vertically or diagonally. One could put one at a time and the other user had to prevent this while trying to create his won line. So basically it was tic-tac-toe of 100 squares rather than 9. Ours was plastic board with grooves in which the pegs would fit. The other version I have seen is a vertical board where player has a flat coin that they have to drop in the slot from the opening on the top of the board. I remember this game in so much detail for the reason that while I was bed ridden with jaundice in class 5th, ma played it with me to give me company and keep my spirits. But if I would loose the game, I would burst into tears feeling as miserable as if I was a total looser. A bed ridden child with his / her sibling gone to park to play is any parents nightmare. I remember chiding my mother for giving me all the bland food and giving didi good food, knowing well that in Jaundice I was not allowed oil and all that yummy food.

Carrom. I have no fond memories of this board game. I was pathetic at it. I was so hopeless that my father though taught my sister all tricks of playing the game; he just tolerated my horrible strikes. We had two strikers one white one red, I would keep changing the striker thinking that would help my luck. Once in a blue moon if would be able to get the queen and the cover too, but that was so rare that I would be on cloud 9 whenever I was able to achieve that feat!

We have played hide and seek, badminton, general running and catching each other, and all the other girl games with kitchen set and all. I thank god for giving us a wholesome childhood and all these fond memories!

Add on Didi if I forgot anything here!

Your Mother In Law is your path to Nirvana

To define nirvana is neither the intention nor the capability of this piece of prose. To each to his / her own is what works in most of the issues of moral and theoretical discussions. Unless of course one is a Deepak Chopra or has a few “Sri” associated to ones name. In a simple complicated life of a normal person who is controlled by his/ her job, commuting home, the EMI of that home, maid, kids school fee, multiplexes and malls; nirvana can be that total silence that one gets only for a few second while a cup of tea warms the throat or any other choice of drink or moment. Another aspect of nirvana is where through all these worries or matters of human existence one can smile the benign smile as benign as those of the Buddha idols which endorse a five star hotel lobby to the suite of rich and happening (and featured on the idiot box). It is this smile, this too shall pass smile, this smile that says Oh! This does not bother me, this smile which understands “Only change is permanent”, that is ultimate manifestation of Nirvana which all can see and if there is no one around one can still know that one had it, even if for a few seconds.

The kid or the baby one has produced or helped to produce can never help one to attain this smile. And one is partly responsible for that. They nag, throw tantrums, demand your attention at wrong time, fight food and anything healthy, get into fights, monkey around, well blame yourself. One can trace almost all that is bad in ones progeny to oneself in some or the other form or phase of our lives. So even in the most stoned stupor one cannot smile through any of these annoying and patience testing techniques available to one’s creation. Lets not even think about one’s creations, if you can’t attain it from one a multiple of those will not help either.

However the other way round is true; but one does not think of nirvana in the time frame in which our creators to whom one is non-nirvana enabling progeny are available for attaining nirvana. Though some progenies in the latter year of teens do reach the enlightenment and smile the most benign smile that they can muster or achieve at the tender age while the mother or father is creating a cacophony which neither they understand nor the listener can or care to fathom. But such are few and far between because most of us in teens feel wronged by all and sundry for the tiniest of response in negation.

Humans do not (mostly) choose friends who are inclined to be instruments to nirvana. There exceptions to all rules but as stated earlier in the simple complicated life of a normal human being such occurrence of such exceptions is exceptionally low.

That leaves the spouse or partner. Now being a spouse / partner itself should take us to nirvana, if kamasutra’s real premise were to be understood. Sex in its complete purity and the ultimate climax should and is nirvana. Now if we were to take a count of such attainments, either we will draw a blank look, wolf whistles, nervous titter, disdain or straight answer depending on the demography of the people one posts the question to. Still nirvana would be few and far between.
But again in the much latter years of life with few decades of marriage to boast of some are able to attain the benign smile while the spouse is ranting and nagging. But such is the human nature that women tend to fail in this kind of nirvana. Though they definitely become the instruments to nirvana for their male counterparts.

But there is one being that comes as a package deal. One’s progress in life from a progeny to a creator is incomplete and not possible without this being. Not all are blessed to be bestowed with this being. The mother-in-law is the progression for a woman, which is important, Ekta Kapoor or no Ekta Kapoor. It defines her in her own eyes and that of the world in a light that only a woman can understand and appreciates. If the institution of marriage has survived centuries the mother-in-law has an equally important role to play in this institution. The status of mother-in-law enables the capability of finding an opportunity for “constructive feedback” at all occasions, and the syndrome finds its way so stealthily that most of mother-in-laws are unaware of its presence. And that’s the first step to nirvana itself. If one can smile just to begin with twitch of the facial muscle at such constructive feedback one can assume that one has made that small step towards the giant leap. And mind you, this is for both genders. Mother-In-Law syndrome is applied towards daughter-in-law as well as son-in-law. It is just an irony that when applied to the same gender as that of the Mother-In-Law it gets more attention, airtime and print space. The next level of nirvana becomes easier if one attains the smile at the constructive feedback. Mother-In-Law gives ample opportunities; if one is lucky the opportunities are thrown at every day or hour given one’s proximity to her. Sample some: “my son”, “our family-your family”, “Oh this is so nice BUT”, instructions while she steps out of the town or is visiting. The frequency and verbosity of these and more phrases can help one to practice the benign smile. And once one can flash the benign smile with complete internal peace at these phrases, every time without loosing beat, pat your back, Budhha used a tree, your Nirvana was here right here right now with all the simple complicated life of yours very much around you!

Mummy - Rohan Blog Part 1

Blue text is by Amrit Nonan , and Red text is by my mummy!

There are busy people and lazy people I think my Mummy is both.. partly busy partly “ I don’t have time” syndrome… faltu movies she watches on DVD but writing an account of me the adorable, lovable and oh my god so sweet kid she wont do. Hence again I have decided to let you all be enlightened about what all is happening with me.

Rohan, dude this is my blog. But guess what mommy dear its been ages since you blogged. Still it remains MY blog. Oooooh! All caps.. I am scared mom! Ok lets not fight, lets blog together dear. Now now that sounds like a good idea mummy.. you do have flashes of intelligence. Arrey is that how you should talk to your mom? I am being truthful, right? And that’s what you want from me always! Ok whatever.. lets blog away!

Ladies first mom so you blog first.. I learnt chivalrous behavior from Daddy! I love my daddy.. we both have so much fun. Everyday Daddy lets me comb his hair. Then lets me sit with him in pooja room, give me flowers to mess the pooja room floor. Then after the whole day has gone by , mummy has fed me, I have watched my share of TV, he puts me to sleep. He tries to sing but I have to stop him because his baritone is not made for signing (see this is what this species called parents doesn’t understand.. ki bhai ab sab koi kishore kumar nahi na hota.. to bhaiya mat try karo!). He puts me on my crib bed and switches on the AC and fan and tucks me in! I love my Daddy! Oops mom you were supposed to blog.

Yeah thanks darling! So now a lil info on Rohan’s play school. He had two days of orientation. Last two Saturdays. He loved it. Played with the bat balls they gave. Played on the slide and the blocks. However he didn’t mingle with other kids. Neither did the other kids. Most of them were clinging to their parents. Rohan was one of the few who were not looking for us. This was a group, which had kids from playgroup to KG group. Rohan didn’t like the idea of playing inside a small room the 2nd time and blew his top off. Well I guess once his real playgroup starts in June, they would really have to convince him to play inside a room.

Oh I loved my school.! But now they have asked us to come back only in June! L If my mummy has her way the playschool should be from now itself! :)

Hey Rohan lets see what words you know!
Kangaroo > Gangagoo
Bug > Gub
Doggy > Daggy
Puppy > Pupppy
Lizard > Balli (Telugu)
Hyenna > Hyna
Butterfly > Butterlal
Umbrella > Umbela
Drum > Dham dham Dum
Cat > Meow.. so who does Meow > Cat
Nightingale > Nigale
Tiger > Tigerrrrrr
Red > Ed
Blue > Bue
Green > Grrrrrrnnn
Yellow > ellow
Pink > ink
Ball > Ball

Hey Rohan what do you eat in breakfast > Umpa (Upmma) , Mangi (Maggi) , Dosa and idli. Really? Ok Dosa and Idli I eat with great trouble .. me and mummy reach our individual levels of frustration by the time I eat one idli and ¾ of a small dosa. See I like Breakfast that can just slide down my throat.. but nahi this dosa idli will be stuffed in my mouth and I am expected to chew. Arrey jab dusere options hain to kyun chew karein. Now my mother doesn’t understand this. Imagine me poor fellow. I cry which further angers her.. then Dad pitches in.. let him go hungry! Wah wah.. instead of saying give him Mangi dude says let him go hungry.. kaise kaise ma-baap banata hai bhagwan bhi! Tch! Tch!


And you lil one is god’s boon to earth! Right? Do you even fathom how frustrated we get with maha hungama that you create for this mere act of a breakfast? And uh lets not talk about your habit to wake up at 4 am in morning and fidget and move all over the bed in half sleep!

Oh I sleep just fine… I don’t have any memory of this 4AM thing!

:)ok if you say so!

Hey Rohan lets tell them about how we recite rhymes! I recite the line of the rhyme and Rohan speaks the last word of that sentence!
So it goes like this:
Baba Bab black--- Sheep!
Have u any--- ooowl!
Yes Sir Yes Sir
Three bags--- ul
1 for my master, and 1 for the dame
and 1 for Lil Rohan who lives down the---aaaane!

We also sing song na ma!
Lakdi ki --- Kathi!
Kathi pe--- ghoda!
Ghode ki- dumpe! Jo mara –hoda (hathoda)!
Doad Doda doda ghoda dum utha ke Doda!!!

Mummy I also know door, window, curtain, valene (Vaseline), ghee, tea, bikut, golila, cheetahhh,… oh there are so many.. so you get the picture .. I don’t wanna show off!

Now a days Rohan has become very adventurous. If he sees a dog on the road he runs after it. Cats are also welcome. Lizard on wall is best buddy. The nanny has taught him to do shh shh and then when the lizard moves the glee on his face is awesome. And then lizard goes to cbud.

Mummy opice, daddy opice! I know now. I tell mummy everyday “oddu” (No) don’t go to office. But I know she does. Mary aunty plays with me and tells me that mummy will come.

Over all i a man of simple tastes! I don't need jazzy toys. Give me some sand/ mud, some water, some jhadu, dry leaves, twigs.. i am fine and content. I can play for a long time and bother no one. I even play with dust on road, the dry leaves heap that have been swept into a heap by MCH aunty..... i dont even want clean water i am more than happy to splash my shoes in water puddles in the house after plants are watered. I am even ok withn water lft after washing the cars or the poocha water... you see i am also man of equal opportunities .. so i don't differentiate between waters. But tch tch.. these elders in my family are far from understanding me the nobel soul. You should my mother almost going hysterical if she even sees me near the mopping water. My dad's baritone booms in the house when he sees me playing with the earlier mentioned stuff. Me poor soul gets scared. ... My granma lets me play with all the mud that i want .. the other day when grandma was not watching i put mud in my hair. But now i realise that was not such a good thing to do. Well you see since that day my mother has started giving me bath again after i come back from my 1 hour play time downstairs in the morning. So bath before breakfast and bath again before ma leaves for office. I make faces but she ignores and pours water and cleans and again puts cream / talc and a new pair of clothes. AAAAAAAAAA! my lil body how much dirty can it get?

You all have to see Rohan's hands to beleive me. By the time he comes up after playing in the morning his hands, socks, payjama and shoes are brown with mud. The other day i had to wash his hair after he came back because the mud was stuck in his hair that i had oiled nicely just that morning. I had initial thought that i would be able to brush of the mud but when i pur my hand it turned brown.. i had no choice.. all dressed ready to leave for office i had to again give him bath. Also the poor kid in this heat is getting rash.. we are not sure if its all that he touches so to be on safer side... i rewash him and new pair of clothes before i leave for office!

Ok now there can always be more than one way to look at the same thing.. we shall leave it at that!

I have started learning songs that Kankan (Laxman) plays in the car.. i know dheera dheera , go re go go re (all telugu songs).... i like Hey ya also (K calling K)!

There is so much more to write but then this blog will never get published so for now we both will stop here!