Aww, Shucks...

Thank you to Unpredictable for this award. I could never have predicted this from you. But seriously, it's really very sweet. I like the colour, too! In fact, can I make this my template? Okay...down, girl, down.

Yes, now, getting down to business - I pass this on to girl bloggers who I like. And because I like ceremony, I solemnly hold my right hand straight out as I do so (thus, this post is taking all day for me to type out - I hope you appreciate this):

- Rohini - hah! I just told you day before that you rock and now I bung this at you - although you're going to get this bunged at you from all directions. Nevertheless - here, catch!

- Sue -because she's the actual 'girl' around here, maybe still on the right side of 25. And she's opinionated and outspoken.

- Grafxgurl - because she is one person who actually loves what she does, and she also designs awesome templates, and on top of everything, her blog is fun to read.

- Dipali -because she's sweet and finally started her blog and she has four grown up kids but still seems like a 'girl' to me- but mostly because it's going to be fun to watch what this self proclaimed 'techno-dinosaur' does with this award - she is driving me crazy because she still hasn't fixed the links on this post.

Ok, bye!

The Communication Gap

As mentioned earlier, our long-time maid in Delhi, 'the K', is an invaluable member of our home, and brings her own many quirks to add to the general craziness around.

There is a definite communication gap between Vijay and the K because the former tends to mumble a bit-and the latter is absent-minded beyond belief and for some reason, is also a bit timid around him. This timidity results in her inability to look at him or address him directly - she usually addresses the room in general instead, which he blissfully ignores. This makes for an interesting set of conversations.

I was going to write about this some time back, but then discovered that my sister has already done so. So, here I go, presenting my sister's writing here! Thanks, G, keep it up - saves me the trouble! I will focus now instead on writing about the last few days in Jaipur.

The K and V (my brother-in-law) have a hard time understanding each other. Actually she has a hard time understanding anything and especially him.There is some sort of insurmountable barrier there that turns every simple conversation into an involved dialogue often ending in complete misunderstanding - on her part of course.

Once, V wanted an envelope for some reason. In Hindi, this translates into a lifafa. So he asked the K for one.

She turns up a few minutes later with a largish plastic bag. V, who is used to this sort of thing by now, was prepared to elaborate - ‘Nahi, nahi – chhota, kaagaz ka lifafa.’

Now the K can process only one piece of new information at a time (if that). She came in brandishing an even larger paper packet. ‘Yeh?’ she asked hopefully.

V eventually found an envelope himself.

It is incidents like this that drives the K to try and make absolutely certain what it is that Vijay wants her to do. And this further leads to conversations like the following.

V: Chai banaa do.

K (reacting with inexplicable shock): Chai???

V (a bit uncertainly): Haan?

K (shock melting into casual disbelief): Aapko??

V (patiently): Haan

K (making sure that Vijay knows what he wants): Chahiye??

V (torn between impatience and amusement): Haan

K (leaving no room for doubt): De doon??

V (resignedly): HAAN!!!

Finally, the K was satisfied that she had cracked his code. And Vijay got his tea.

I suppose all's well that ends well. But there sure are a LOT of twists and turns getting there.

Well said, G.

There is so much more yet to come in this series...

Tag! Yag!

Again, a Tag, this time from NM. And being the sporty one that I am, can never resist or desist, so here goes:

The Names that Our Baby is called at Home:

1. Peanut (surprise!)
2. Cheeku ( because of the big cheeks)
3. Gulab Jamun, Rasagulla, Puchka, Golgappa (also because of the big cheeks)
4. Bachhda (By me alone - was surprised NM also does this!)
5. Sachin (Because she looks like Tendulkar after her bath -you'll understand after the next post, I have a photo of it)
6. Shoneee (By our maid Kajal)
7. Shona (by my mother, I think it's her Bengali half speaking)
8. 'Bandariya, Meri Bandi Bititya' (sung to her by her father when putting her to sleep)
9. Parul, Charul, Guchu-puchu, Choti Yashu (by her Buas, don't ask me why)
10. Raja-Betu (by her parents, for no particular reason at all)
11. Baby (by me, very imaginatively)
12. And of course, my personal favourite- Potty Queen (by her father, when he is changing her diaper)

Yes, at this rate, I'm pretty sure she's not going to know her own name until she's around 12.

I tag...nobody! If you want to do it, do it and let me know so I can come and laugh at you.

Edited to add: As my darling sister has pointed out, there are also : Babooshka, Bablans, Chubby and Bright Eyes. And I also remembered Ladoo, in fact, she is also called Mishtaan Bhandaar. Ok, that's it!

When Your PC Keyboard Doesn't Work Properly

...and your smartass friend logs into google talk...

horseshoe.dreamworks: hello! how's everything going
me: ggoo
yoo?
horseshoe.dreamworks: is this Y or her baby speaking!

Moving to laptop now for next post.

SMS from Grandma

My grandparents are pretty kicked about Peanut - this has been especially a big deal on the maternal side as they are great-grandparents for the first time.

As my maternal Grandfather Dadu, who wasn't too well at the time, sleepily and gruffly informed Vijay on the phone - when he was supposed to be congratulating him on her birth- 'I am a Great-grandfather. YOU, are only a father'.

Anyway, I thought my maternal Grandmother, Didu, would be the most likely out of my four grandparents, to get a possible kick out of reading my blog. Around half of Vijay's height, she is very fond of him and loves to hear about his antics.

So I took a printout of the last few posts about him and Peanut and had it sent across to her, complete with pictures and all.

Indeed, she was delighted. And she sent me a series of SMS's to convey her delight.

Now, she has had a mobile for some time, but it's taken her a while to learn how to use SMS - and you have to give credit to an 80-something year old to be able to learn it at all.

But the fact is that she does find it a bit difficult and each SMS takes about as long for her to type out, as writing a letter would - and sometimes it still turns out obscure and needing some deciphering. By the way, she has been a teacher of English, and therefore, the following SMS's stand as testament to the effort, in fact, struggle behind each painstakingly typed word.

Her first SMS, and I quote word for word:

'Welcome to Peanut woderful Y love V so much one cant say baming light focussed on Pnut or PAPA One grand news PROUD GGP wanted toannounceto whole world misng'

Fair enough. She likes it, loves Vijay more than she can say, something about whether Vijay or Peanut is the star, its the first time they are great-grandparents and want to announce it to the world.

And then this follow up message two days later:

'Fir$t reading rapid what coming next n next Second relaxing tasteing each word with immense joy V vijayed inner core of the readers' hearts Ys simple btiful natural flow of language depictin the true story must have left something for the young hearts to emulate Pnut is the centre God save her'

Clear. She read it quickly first, breathless with anticipation and is now re-reading it and savouring it. Vijay is winning over the reader's heart and she likes my writing. Something about young readers being encouraged to emulate (us?...Heaven forbid! only a grandmother would be so blinded by love)...and Peanut is the center of it all. God Save Her.

Hang on! God SAVE her? I'm sure she meant God BLESS her. Must clarify on this point.

Hah. Be like that. Et tu, Didu?

(Note to self - leave out this post when printing next instalment of blog for Didu - or risk being denied the pleasure of future cryptic SMS's)

My adorable, adorable grandmother.

What's Your Quirk? Get to Work!

This one is for all those of us who saw the movie 'As Good as it Gets' and said, of Jack Nicholson's many strange quirks - 'Hey, I do that...or something like it'.

Which means basically everyone.

Yep. This is a Tag. And you're IT.Hah! I trapped you! Now, go and reveal the manifestations of your obsessive compulsive disorder on your blog. A minimum of 5 are required. Go on then, get moving. Oh wait, read mine first.

1. I am obsessed with the numbers seven and fourteen. I do my exercises in sets of 7 or 14, for example. In fact, though the steps leading upto my home in Delhi are 6 and 13 in number, I shuffle my feet one extra time to get to my magic numbers. Every time. It started when I was a kid but now it's done subconsciously. I am realizing as I type this that I am sounding like a psycho. Oh well... let us plod on.

2. After the Mango, it is the Grape which is my favourite fruit. Wait, that's not the OCD part... wait for it, will ya? The OCD part is that I have to eat the grape in a particular way to extract maximum enjoyment from it. One bunch of grapes - the delicious green ones, not the odious black ones (and don't even get me started on the ones with bloody seeds) - is taken and each of the grapes is bitten painstakingly in half. And it is only once all the grapes are bitten through in half, that I can eye with great satisfaction my bunch of pretty green half-grapes, and then move on to relishing the remaining halves. Obviously, if you ever meet me, none of you are going offer me grapes at your homes. Sigh. It's just as well, I suppose.

3. When I need to concentrate, I have to pluck thoughtfully at my eyebrow and make a strange sort of pouty fish-lip face. It is impossible for me to type or read or write without this. I caught my sister doing the fish-lip face and realized it runs in the family. I also then realized how incredibly weird it looks. But I'm too old to change now. I really don't know if this qualifies as part of the OCD but I'm on a roll here, so don't stop me.

4. I'm obsessively editorial. I do not claim to be grammatically correct all the time, but obvious glaring errors really bug me. This is an issue in the blogging world where people are just dumping their thoughts in their own space. I have to resist the urge to correct spelling mistakes or point out that their sentences are missing specific words.(I have been an editor for school and college magazines but that's just a poor excuse for being slightly tight-arsed about this) . Still, it just wouldn't do in the comments section to say 'Hi! I really loved your post. You write wonderfully. But could you please edit your post to include a 'The' in the fourth sentence of paragraph two? Thank you.'

A note to all the wise-asses reading this- please don't make a similar comment on this post. It's predictable and not funny. Yes, that means you, Ganju. Anyway, moving on.

5. I am obsessed with trying to cut people's hair. If you have even reasonably nice, dandruff-free hair, I want to cut it. This is not a fetish. I just want to cut hair. I like the snip-snip sound and the hair pile on the floor getting larger...never mind.

Years back, Vijay let me cut his hair to show he loved and trusted me. He has nice soft, smooth hair. I cut it happily. I decided to give him steps in the back. There were 5 steps, not very even, but it felt nice to him when he touched it. He couldn't see it and I knew it looked ghastly but it was only my first attempt. However, after his friend told him 'Lagta hai billi ne noch-noch ke baal nikaale hai', and he spent the next day in office holding his hand over the back of his head, he refused to let me ever cut it again. No one lets me cut their hair so I have to cut mine sometimes. The result is not good. Selfish people, all of you.

(Poor Peanut has a full head of black hair. Here comes Mama!)

6. I cannot, cannot, CANNOT STAND being patted or otherwise touched on the head. Unless I am bending to touch your feet because you are my in-laws, or you are giving me a massage, or a haircut - stay away from touching my head. In school and college, where one is subject to the occasional company of a few immature morons, this used to be a problem. Thankfully, no one has come upto me at work in the last 5 years and touched me on the head. It would have been very difficult to explain to higher authorities why I had bitten off a colleague's fingers.

That's it! There are actually many more but I'll stop here - before the really weird stuff comes to the surface. Wouldn't want you thinking I'm totally nuts.

So go on, then. Call them fetishes, quirks, 'adorable traits', whatever - go and list them NOW.

I tag, in particular:

Ganju ( yes, yes, I know your blog is too tight-arsed for it, just do it in the comments section here)
Shome ( can you please post something to go with your jazzy new template)
Mad Momma (no, this is NOT the revenge tag)
Moppet's Mom
Sue
Dipali
Mahogany

I would tag a couple of more people but that would be more than seven, and I'm too tired to get up to fourteen just now.

But whoever reads this - consider yourself tagged. Don't try and sneak off quietly without fulfilling it. Whoever does that is a rotten egg! Nyah nyah!

Edited to add: Goshdarnit, Dagnabit, Bloody Hell, *%&# and $^&%*!# !!! I just realized I did only SIX quirks for myself...this is going to kill me....yaaaaaaarrrrghhhhhhh....

Tagged...Gah!

Birds do it, and so do the bees,
Our babies are made by acts such as these,

MadMomma's tag is hardly a breeze
It's all that Sue's fault - outspoken piece of cheese,

But if you're a new Mum with stitches from your episiotomy,
And for now, stay in the house of your own loving Mommy,

In a room which is meant for the innocent guest,
With doors oft flung open to North, East and West,

And your husband is obsessed with your new daughter,
Not looking at you as often as he oughter,

And he comes to visit only two days in the week,
Baby sleeps in the middle, and you talk Babyspeak,

All I can say is 'Hah! Big fat chance,
Of any sort of Ardour - forget about Romance.'

Who knows? Maybe after some time, the dam will burst,
But if you don't hear from me on this again - please assume the worst.

Note to MadMomma - are you happy now? Gah! Will soon make up my own tough tag and get you for this...