Saying Bye Bye to Singapore All Over Again

Arya tells me that she has a funny, sad feeling in the pit of her stomach. We are leaving for Bangalore tonight. Our 2 week vacation in Singapore has come to an end. She had nightmares 2 nights in a row and she is feeling down and out and vulnerable.

And me - sigh! I am not even starting to describe how I am feeling. At least in my mind, I can rationalize that it's nicer to spend 2 weeks in Singapore and bear the 2 day ordeal of parting pangs rather than not come at all. But for Arya, she doesn't know how to deal with saying Bye Bye to her precious Singapore all over again. She would much rather not come here at all, because she can't bear the depression of saying Bye.

Kushal went to Mumbai on a business trip on Saturday and that was probably what started her downward spiral. She is now reached a point where she is ready to cry at the slightest provocation. Helpless mother that I am, my heart goes out to her of course. Yet at the same time, I wish she was tougher. What with all the hard knocks life has to offer - I worry, I worry a lot!

Junya Athvani - Pathare Prabhu Swapna Sundari

People form associations. They want their children to grow up in communities. They want others to take pride in their children's achievements. My parents are part of the Pathare Prabhu association. As children, we really enjoyed participating in the numerous debates, elocution, drawing competitions and the like.
I was feared and respected in PP circles for my English prowess. Although the PP community tried hard to instill the Marathi-ness of us all into our impressionable minds, secretly they admired English speaking people much more and each one of them broke into English when suitably drunk (in an effort to sound more learned)

So we were growing up with the sense of being a PP somewhere on the periphery of our vision - I would proudly proclaim that we PPs are the Original Inhabitants of Bombay City - (of course I had no clue of how to say that in Marathi)

Then hey presto - Sushmita Sen won the Miss India and went on to be Miss Universe and Aishwarya Rai won the Miss World title in the very same year and the PPs, forward thinking as they are, decided to have their very own beauty contest. They named it Pathare Prabhu Swapna Sundari which roughly translates to PP Dream Girl. My mother was very insistent that I participate and some of the glamor of Ash and Sush had rubbed off on me too, which is why I was very willing.

We had a quest for finding the perfect saree. And then the perfect accessories and then we had to decide who would do my makeup and what I would say on stage. Of course I had loads of people helping me to rehearse my lines. There was excitement backstage and mostly in the minds of my cousins and little brother and sister, who were awaiting my arrival on stage with a lot of anxiety and trepidation.

The magic moment arrived and I did exactly what a headstrong idiot would do. I spoke in impeccable English about my sense of pride in being a PP and how I would make sure that we preserve the culture and the PP-ness of us all. Duh!

Of course I didn't win. A better looking, Marathi speaking, airhostess did. I was very glad for her, but the disappointment of my mother was too much for me to take.

Did she actually expect me to win?

India Reloaded - Vacationing In Singapore

That title sounded funny. After living in Singapore for 8 years, what is the one spot I choose to come and vacation in - Singapore. Duh!

Well it is not so dumb. I think it helped me to respect the place that I had come to take for granted. The safety, the security, the seafood - just the predictability of things.

Besides we have to celebrate Arya's birthday party here with all of her friends. I met up with a few of my friends and I was reassuring them that they are not missing out on anything by not participating in "India shining" The media is just all hype. India still has a long way to go to measure up to Singapore. And truth always hurts.

What are the things I loved about India - The warmth of the people, the kindness and hospitality, the ease with which conversations took place between perfect strangers, the opportunities that I got in my school and college, the places that I could visit, the food that I could eat, all different, all delicious. Most of all, I enjoyed the sense of association, the sense of belongingness.

Now I am different - I no longer find people warm, kind and hospitable - the national greed overwhelms me, at every point, people want to be overpaid or bribed. Schools and Colleges are part of the racket. They spew out venom and take in only kids who's parents can afford Donations - which are cleverly disguised as Admission or Registration fees. Getting from one point to another in Bangalore is such an ordeal, that one simply does not have the strength to go from one city to another. My food preferences have changed - ever since my palate has widened and I no longer find Indian food the most fabulous (although my preference for Indian sweets will live on forever). But the fact is that there are other cuisines which I find delicious and they are simply not available in India. As for the sense of association or the sense of belongingness - it's just not there. I don't belong. Not anymore.
I am starting to sound like Jhumpa Lahiri, so I better cut it out - NOW!

All about Arya - Teaching a lefthander to play Badminton and go Bowling

It's a tough enough job to teach a left-handed child to write when you are right-handed, but since Arya decided to be ambidextrous, I didn't have to worry too much.

But recently I took it upon myself to teach her Badminton and it was a constantly frustrating exercise for both of us. However, we were determined to keep at it day after day and she bravely tried to mirror all my serves and swings and backhands and then after about 20 days there came a day today that she could actually return my serves and serve by herself too. Badminton champ she is not, but I am proud of the way she just wouldn't accept defeat.

I had taken her bowling too some days ago and conveniently forgot that she was left-handed, so I kept showing her the correct position and the correct grip and where to aim and how. She kept throwing gutterball after gutterball and accused the ball of being too heavy. It was only after my friend Candy who was with us that day, asked me - Isn't she left-handed? that it struck me like lightning that I was expecting too much out of her poor sore right hand.

Since then, whenever i visit a bowling alley, I keep a close watch on left-handers to see their technique.

It kind of makes me realize why people force their left-handed kids to use the right-hand instead. Well someone told me that left-handers have a natural advantage in golf - so the next thing that I have to do is start her on golf and who knows, we may just have a Tigress Wood on the way.

All About Arya - You Notti

This was way back when Arya was just 2 years old. She had learned two things - sometimes she was a good girl and at other times she was naughty, or notti (tti pronounced as the word for "her" in marathi)
To our amusement, she would pick herself up when she would fall and call the ground 'notti', when it rained while she was enjoying herself in the playground, she would look at the sky and say 'notti', the TV would be called 'notti' if her fat little fingers weren't able to press the remote power on button, if a biscuit fell out of her hand, she would just look at it with a great deal of frustration and say - you guessed it - notti!

Kushal found this very amusing and so he started teasing her and calling her notti whenever it caught his fancy. This used to make her really angry and she would fly into a rage and say - YOU Notti - to which he would reply with the same fervour - it's you who's notti, only to enrage her further and further till her anger drove her to tears.

Poor thing, she had only a limited vocabulary back then. So everything around her was just notti. Today things range from the mildly crazy to idiotic to horrible, terrible, miserable and extremely bad. She often rolls up her eyes skywards and tells me that the food can't be called bad, it's just tasteless, or tastes awful. Mumma, don't say it's "not good" to touch stray animals - Say that they aren't clean so wash your hands afterwards. Mumma, why do you say your teeth will become 'kharab' if you don't brush, just say that they will decay. The list goes on.

Of course, I miss the fat little cherubic toddler who simply said - You Notti!

India Reloaded - Citibank India Stinky Poo!

Those of you who read my blog and thought that Citibank sucks - think again! It actually STINKS.

Thanks to the original mess-ups I have had my account open in Dec, operational since Feb. I finally got a hold of my internet password and managed to even log in. But when I eagerly went to check out my account statement, it said - Please register to read your statements online. Are they so dumb at Citibank that they have no idea that people who sign up for an internet password would need to access their statement online.

Needless to say, Citibank neither sends me a statement by post, nor by email, and now it wonders whether I want to register to read my statement online. HelllllOoooooo, this is my money we are talking about. Have I no right to know what Citibank is doing with my money without signing up zillions of times and answering gazillions of questions? Is there something wrong with me? Does the rest of the world believe in trust and faith? Will Citibank lend me money based on the same trust and faith that they keep my money without ever bothering to send me a tiny little inkling on what transactions are happening in MY bank account?

Anybody in their right mind, still signing up for a Citibank account???