The soft cry was what made me conscious.
When I looked around and saw only happy faces, I knew every thing was all right, but still, battling anxiety I asked, "All fingers in place?" My mother was so engrossed, she did not hear. For the new dad, it was love at first sight. Even if the baby was born limbless, he perhaps would not have cared. And my brother and the cousins who had gone there to support me, the less said the better. One look at the baby and they forgot all about me.
Ishita's birth was a celebration in my family. She was the first grandchild. To witness her birth, at least 15 members of my family had turned up. Wait a minute,probably there were more. Ask Sujata, she might have the right number. I was drugged out of my mind (thank God) and have no recollection whatsoever. I am not good with numbers even when I am not giving birth anyway.
So, after a while, when I realised there was no help coming from my mom or my dad, I yelled. "Hello, does anyone remember I exist?" My husband came hurriedly to my side and said, "Need the doctor? Will call." And disappeared again.
She was the cutest baby born in the family for a long time. Actually, she was the only baby born in the family for a long time. My brother's son, who was next, came 4 years later. For 4 years, she enjoyed being the only one, pampered and loved, spoiled and cosseted. The initial years, which kind of merge in my mind, were the years of discovery. Witnessing a tiny infant, slowly growing up to be a beautiful girl. Nature's greatest miracle.
Over the years, I have tried to be a teacher, as well as a mother. Teaching her to stand up after she fell. Teaching her to talk. To read and to write. Teaching her to respect every individual, to show love and kindness...but a lot of the time, the roles were reversed. It was she who taught me to be patient. It was she who taught me to be unbiased . To find pleasure in the smallest things. To find laughter in Disney characters. From her I learned that every day was a new day and nothing was commonplace. There was joy to be found even in chasing a butterfly.
She is still teaching me. I have learned lately that my love is not always unconditional. At times I am guilty of loving less.That I am capable of harsh words.That though I am her staunchest ally, I am also her worst critic. From her I learn every day that motherhood is not easy, specially when you are a mother of a teen.
So there are slammed doors and angry tears. Ugly skirmishes and yelling matches. There are hurtful words and lack of understanding.But there is also love, beneath all the overwhelming thoughts.
Over these 14 years I have realised that my daughter is the central point of my life. Though I did not set out to be a full time mother, this is what has made my life rich. She is the motive for everything that I do and being her mother is the identity I have carved out for myself. And when I see her happy, vibrant and smiling, I know I have not done a bad job.
Happy Birthday sweetie-pie.May you get everything that you wish for in life, including that i-pod. But don't wish for a boy friend just yet. There's still some time for that.
Like may be when you are 28?
Showing posts with label Ishita's birthday. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Ishita's birthday. Show all posts
Tuesday, October 27, 2009
Tuesday, November 18, 2008
Girls Just Wanted To Have Fun
We all had been waiting for ages for this day. Finally when the big day arrived, we could barely contain our happiness. After a gap of one and a half years we were going on a vacation. It was definitely a big reason to celebrate.
The bags had been packed. The sun screen lotion had been tucked away. Even the last minute packing had been done much in advance. Goa was calling.
There was a slight problem though. My daughter 's birthday was coming up during the break and she wanted to celebrate in style. After all not everyday a girl turned thirteen! So, after much deliberation, she invited some of her closest friends for lunch. Our train would leave in the evening that day. Surely there would be ample time to celebrate with her friends!
Turning thirteen is a momentous occasion. This was the official entry to the exciting teens. So what would a bunch of thirteen year old do to celebrate? Dress up in style? Watch a movie on DVD? Shop for some exotic jewellery? Dance to the latest hits? If you were my daughter, you would have have ticked all of the above. Life is a party.
So outfits were chosen, CDs were piled up, Pizza Hut number was memorised and the choice of topping for each friend was duly noted. Pepperoni.Mushroom and cheese. Chicken tikka masala; oh! When would the magic hour strike? Well, the clock did strike the magic hour. On October 21, around 10 o'clock, the school called up to say it was closing down. Raj Thakrey had been arrested in the wee hours of the morning and the irate MNS members had decided to go on a rampage. They burnt down public transport, broke window panes of commercial establishments, pelted stones at passersby and forcibly halted the megalopolis to a standstill. Schools and colleges shut down. And so did Galleria- the local hub for exotic jewellery. Planet M- the local music and DVD store and Pizza Hut- the saviour of all the teens celebrating birthdays.
Faces downcast and moods sombre, frantic phone calls were exchanged to salvage the situation. I could only watch with growing horror. We had only a few hours to catch the train. I had closed down my kitchen. I had nothing to offer to these girls and a mother's heart was breaking. The mob had shut down every local shop. Even the local super market had downed its shutters. And my pantry was empty. Even before the party began it had pooped .
I tried to save the day by offering the girls some hot home cooked aloo parathas but could I ever hope to compete with Pizza Hut? The girls decided to stay hungry. I guess aloo parathas did not enjoy a huge fan base. My daughter did try to infuse some cheer to the party by playing some foot tapping numbers on the CD player but no matter what, the fun had clearly gone out of the party.
We left for the station much early fearing road blocks. By then things had calmed down a bit. Markets had opened and the cars, though only few, were back on the roads. We started our much awaited vacation with a heavy heart.
The party did happen though. The five days that we were in Goa, we ate at fifteen different places. From xacuti to oysters we tried everything. My daughter shopped for exotic jewellery to her heart's content. Beads, stones , shells... she bought them all. Though not the latest hits, we did listen to awesome live bands and some groovy music. And the day of her actual birthday,we flew in from Goa to Mumbai and went on to Delhi to continue our vacation. So breakfast in Goa, lunch in Mumbai and dinner in Delhi. Top that MNS members.
So sorry girls, you had to miss out on all that fun. May be we can try this once again when Ishita turns eighteen. We can listen to some music, eat pizza and dance all night long.
Hopefully, a certain Mr. Thakrey would also grow up a bit by then.
The bags had been packed. The sun screen lotion had been tucked away. Even the last minute packing had been done much in advance. Goa was calling.
There was a slight problem though. My daughter 's birthday was coming up during the break and she wanted to celebrate in style. After all not everyday a girl turned thirteen! So, after much deliberation, she invited some of her closest friends for lunch. Our train would leave in the evening that day. Surely there would be ample time to celebrate with her friends!
Turning thirteen is a momentous occasion. This was the official entry to the exciting teens. So what would a bunch of thirteen year old do to celebrate? Dress up in style? Watch a movie on DVD? Shop for some exotic jewellery? Dance to the latest hits? If you were my daughter, you would have have ticked all of the above. Life is a party.
So outfits were chosen, CDs were piled up, Pizza Hut number was memorised and the choice of topping for each friend was duly noted. Pepperoni.Mushroom and cheese. Chicken tikka masala; oh! When would the magic hour strike? Well, the clock did strike the magic hour. On October 21, around 10 o'clock, the school called up to say it was closing down. Raj Thakrey had been arrested in the wee hours of the morning and the irate MNS members had decided to go on a rampage. They burnt down public transport, broke window panes of commercial establishments, pelted stones at passersby and forcibly halted the megalopolis to a standstill. Schools and colleges shut down. And so did Galleria- the local hub for exotic jewellery. Planet M- the local music and DVD store and Pizza Hut- the saviour of all the teens celebrating birthdays.
Faces downcast and moods sombre, frantic phone calls were exchanged to salvage the situation. I could only watch with growing horror. We had only a few hours to catch the train. I had closed down my kitchen. I had nothing to offer to these girls and a mother's heart was breaking. The mob had shut down every local shop. Even the local super market had downed its shutters. And my pantry was empty. Even before the party began it had pooped .
I tried to save the day by offering the girls some hot home cooked aloo parathas but could I ever hope to compete with Pizza Hut? The girls decided to stay hungry. I guess aloo parathas did not enjoy a huge fan base. My daughter did try to infuse some cheer to the party by playing some foot tapping numbers on the CD player but no matter what, the fun had clearly gone out of the party.
We left for the station much early fearing road blocks. By then things had calmed down a bit. Markets had opened and the cars, though only few, were back on the roads. We started our much awaited vacation with a heavy heart.
The party did happen though. The five days that we were in Goa, we ate at fifteen different places. From xacuti to oysters we tried everything. My daughter shopped for exotic jewellery to her heart's content. Beads, stones , shells... she bought them all. Though not the latest hits, we did listen to awesome live bands and some groovy music. And the day of her actual birthday,we flew in from Goa to Mumbai and went on to Delhi to continue our vacation. So breakfast in Goa, lunch in Mumbai and dinner in Delhi. Top that MNS members.
So sorry girls, you had to miss out on all that fun. May be we can try this once again when Ishita turns eighteen. We can listen to some music, eat pizza and dance all night long.
Hopefully, a certain Mr. Thakrey would also grow up a bit by then.
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