A ninth anniversary post - borrowed

Not my own. But a beautiful poetry. Someday I aspire to write like this. 

Mouthful of forever by clementine von radics 

 

I am not the first person you loved.
You are not the first person I looked at
with a mouthful of forevers. We
have both known loss like the sharp edges
of a knife. We have both lived with lips
more scar tissue than skin. Our love came
unannounced in the middle of the night.
Our love came when we’d given up
on asking love to come. I think
that has to be part
of its miracle.

This is how we heal.
I will kiss you like forgiveness. You
will hold me like I’m hope. Our arms
will bandage and we will press promises
between us like flowers in a book.
I will write sonnets to the salt of sweat
on your skin. I will write novels to the scar
of your nose. I will write a dictionary
of all the words I have used trying
to describe the way it feels to have finally,
finally found you.

And I will not be afraid
of your scars.

I know sometimes
it’s still hard to let me see you
in all your cracked perfection,
but please know:
whether it’s the days you burn
more brilliant than the sun
or the nights you collapse into my lap
your body broken into a thousand questions,
you are the most beautiful thing I’ve ever seen.
I will love you when you are a still day.
I will love you when you are a hurricane.

 

Letting go

Like every year the much dreaded Diwali safai is upon us. I know most of you have already finished it but people like me are still struggling with it. Like every year skeletons have come out of the closet. For a hoarder like me this is a very difficult time. To decide what is important (everything) what needs to be given away (husbands clothes) and make place for new more relevant stuff. De clutter. Organise. These are words that i run away from. I know how inviting a neat closet is. For a brief 3 days after diwali my closet is clean. and then it piles again. It starts from something as innocent as the bill of the new pants i bought for Arav in case i might have to exchange it and then it extrapolates. Soon my closet starts resembling a refugee camp with unclaimed objects and i have no clue how to stop it.

The upside of this cleaning is nostalgia. I just love to clean the boys closets. always getting amazed by how qucik Arav outgrows his clothes. Neatly folding and storing the ones i want to preserve for Nivaan. Passing along some to other kids i love. Taking out bigger size for Nivaan from the storage. Remembering how Arav used to look in them. Thinking of the places we travelled together. The flights we took. Constantly comparing their childhoods. Reminding myself to not compare them. So on and so forth. Bitter sweet emotions.

There is a red bag under the bed that i look forward to and run away from in equal measures. For last 6 years i have removed its contents mulled over it for few days and then packed it again. This year i knew what needed to be done. This bag contains my new york clothes. My work clothes. My winter clothes. Both of which have vanished from my life since relocating back to bombay. Initially i kept them thinking i am on a maternity leave and its just a matter of time before i join work again. And i didnt want to give them away. It soon became clear im not going back to work atleast not where i will be wearing blazers and trousers. Still i held onto them like a stubborn child. These clothes are pretty much the only connection to that life. The golden period as i think of it now. My short lived career. The corporate life that i had just started to enjoy. The city i had just started to call home. The freedom that i never took for granted.

When i arrived in New york in January of 2006 i was a 22 years old big eyed new bride. I had never lived away from my parents and here i was saat samundar paar playing house house with a man i barely knew. New york was my first everything. It was my first taste of a life as an adult. even though we parted ways amicably ,NY and I, I still cant get myself to write about it.

But those clothes. The white sweater I picked from FCUK. Just coz it was FCUK. The calvin klein shirt that i found in half off aisle. The beanie and gloves i gifted myself from Macys. That red bag was like a time machine. I remember the purple sweater i wore in holiday party of my workplace. I was the brown girl from India who could speak good english who was a vegetarian who was already married at 22 and most importantly who was already a CPA. It was pure chance that i was a tax accountant and very surprising that i was good at it.

I wonder how people work for years and years and then quit it to become full time parents. I worked for a total of 3 years only and i still miss it. I miss my cube. I miss paychecks. I miss my work spouse. I miss dressing up.

Anyway so after a good cry i finally got the courage to empty this bag once and for all. It had to be done.  I tried each and every item one last time and gloated in the pleasure of fitting into some of them. And then with a big heavy heart i gave them away. But not before i smuggled two pants (which still fit and are not those horrible boot cuts)

So yeah. It was such an emotional experience that i have suspended the rest of the cleaning till i get over it. Writing this and may be reading a good book should help.

Happy Diwali everyone

Birthday no.1 of baby no.2

Ready to party

He turned one.Our little blob who still doesnt look like any of us.... (people say he now looks like his dad his brother my nanaji and his daadi) but i cant yet see any resemblance.....We reached that big milestone. Baby turning 1.... No more how many months old? now all i have to say is he is one. As amazing as it sounds its also very nerve wrecking. It was a birthday where nothing went as planned (when does it ever) and yet it was perfect in every way.


I dont believe in a big birthday bash kind of thing. In fact the first birthday party that Arav got was when he was 3 and in love with everything construction related. So we had a nice construction theme party where i went absolutely nuts. Anyway the best way to celebrate first birthday in my opinion is to go away on a trip to a nice relaxing place outdoors. Which is what we had planned but for variety of reasons the plan went bust. 2 days before the birthday. Now i was looking at the prospect of not celebrating Nivaan's first birthday in any way and it was making me gloomy. So after two nights of sitting with Google baba i zeroed down on few things. It was difficult as the list things i wanted to do was way longer than things i could do considering the time constraint. Picking the theme was easy. There always has to be a theme it just makes things more fun i believe.

T-shirt tales

A week before his birthday after making umpteen rounds of the local mall i realised im not going to find that perfect cute thing that i want him to wear on the day he turns one. So i turned to etsy devi and got my head full of cute diy tshirt. Challenge was how to pull this off as i have two left hands when it comes to craft or painting or even cutting a straight line using scissors. But once you are bitten by the diy keeda its hard to let go.

1. The t-shirt that started it all : My phone was full of diy images i saw online. I found myself a white plain tshirt. I knew i will applique number 1 and paint his name. but the major hitch was finding cute fabric to applique from. I had no time to explore stores. so i raided my closet but found nothing. Suddenly i saw a cute "first cinco de mayo tshirt " online and had my own light bulb moment. i had the perfect fabric. So from the back of my dusty cupboard i found the set of dining table mats given to me when i was getting married 8 years ago.I felt a twinge of guilt putting scissors through the perfect mat but it was soon overcome by the excitement of how perfect it looked. I also got myself few paints crayola fabric markers and gel tubes from hobby ideas. And while the little one napped I used my limited art skills to make the tshirt look festive. The effect was amazing i had in my hands a very cute mexican themed tshirt.

2. The inivitation that sealed the deal : I didnt have enough time to make the invitation (i would have loved to do that) So i just sent a text message to the total of four moms that i had planned to invite . It went " Senor Nivaan is turning one so listen up everyone. Come and say hello to our very own burrito" This i thought was very clever because when Niv was a baby swaddled after bath he actually looked like a burrito. In fact for his first halloween i wanted to dress him like a burrito till i remembered i live in New Bombay not New York and we dont celebrate Halloween. Anyway i was just happy to use the burrito reference here. Also this made picking the food menu for party really easy for me.

the high chair kit

a very cute idea

My attempt to copy

3. Decor that should have been : Tissue pom poms. Oh my god the more i read about them the more i was sure i was going to pull it off.....beautiful colorful tissue pom poms with a lovely birthday banner it was very clear in my head. except i couldnt find colorful tissue papers. So pom poms were replaced by bows (little lame) and banner didnt quite come out the way i wanted. Also i ended up buying a high chair kit which is the cutest thing ever.


4. The four letter word : CAKE. Yes i was going to bake. Even though my attempt at icing have always resulted in disaster i still was very much convinced that i will serve nothing but my own creation. So with lot of trepidation i began baking. the spong part was easy. i baked two and let them cool. the challenge came while i was trying to whip the cream. I was doing it with my hands and 20 minutes into the act i was losing all hope and getting a nice cramp in my arms. it was 2 hours before the party and i dreaded that i would only have to serve sponge cake. Add to it Nivaan refused to nap and i was on the verge of tears. Then i had a light bulb moment again. I stuck my hand blender in the cream and prayed that i dont turn it into butter. it whipped beautifully. But in my excitement to ice the cake fast i tore the top sponge. Anyways i kept icing it and prayed that it will stay intact. Which it did. it wasnt very neat or fancy but i was mighty pleased.

my inspiration for the cake banner

the cake that stood up for itself

5. The cake banner because pinterest can make you do crazy things : Seriously. I mean its such a non important thing. But oh my god look how cute. So i had to. And of course i couldnt just write it . So i printed and stuck and bought the long skewers and took a whole hour to do this. At this point i started to realise if im really losing the plot here.

Senor Nivaan

6. Props : the cute moustache that couldnt find its way to the t-shirt got turned into photo props....really easy if you can use scissors. Which i cant so it took me good 30 mintues to get 3 moustache cut out of black card paper . *face palm*

7. Food : This was probably the easiest bit as mexican food makes for good party starters, But of course it wasnt as easy as i thought. the avocado i bought refused to ripen. So there was no guacomole. The neighbouring fine food store which promised me mini taco shells said " sorry madam taco to nathi che, pan tame hai canapies try karo. same-ach che." Same -ach nathi pan i did try canapies and they were not half bad. SO we had nachos with salsa . canapies and mini quesedillas. No guacomole no sour cream. But i dont think anyone complained.

When the party started all of what should have been was forgotten in an instant. Nivaan was in a really happy mood. Other kids were having fun with some blocks and dart games. and the joy on Nivaans face when he smashed the cake all that was pure bliss. It made the two insane nights totally worth it. For next two days he jumped whenever we bought the cake out ready to devour it and thats the biggest compliment.

the king of my world

The downside is Aravs birthday is not too far and riding high on the success of this party im afraid im going to be losing it again very soon.

Hey it atleast gives me stuff to write about so no complaints :)

A lip smacking finish

Happy love day

Happy valentines day everyone….. Its been a real long time since I wrote anything….between the almost 5 year old and the almost 1 year old my blog got royally ignored. But today I want to write something close to my heart. Today being what it is it feels like cupid has puked rainbows and hearts all over my FB wall and whatsapp list. People have changed their DPs and status. Tagged their better halves. Mothers have proclaimed that there is no better valentines than their kids. Someone has tagged their dad (not sure if the said dad knows that he has a FB account). So on and so forth. And while its easy to sit and make fun of all this I for one am trying to enjoy all this PDA.

I mean yes some people can be really cheesy but is it that bad to put up a collage of your favourite pics together. Or if its your anniversary look back at the years spent and write a little something about it. Now every couple has one person who will be the first to update their significant others birthday anniversary or compliment them in social media. While the other act like they are not related. Seldom I see both parties equally excited. And I always end up feeling a little bad for the excited person. Coz that’s me I relate to them. Ever since I remember my birthday has been a big deal for me. Also i am the Subodh of my family. So I remember all dates important or not. Engagement anniversary , first kiss , first fight, first phone call. All of it. So I am the butt of all jokes. Im the dorky one who needs to get a life or grow up. Like remembering a nice event is such a bad thing. Meanwhile the ones who boast of not remembering anything or I don’t care about my birthday or valentines is a western thing or I don’t get why we need to celebrate our love only one day, these people are cool. Its almost like our culture celebrates negative emotion. If you are dark and brooding or reserved you have this mysterious aura. But if you are happy and sun shiny and expressive about your happiness then you are the quintessential dork. Its almost fashionable to diss PDA.

What is wrong in being mainstream? What is wrong in celebrating a day for love? To profess your love on social media or get flowers or bake a cake or write a poem? Its corny its cheesy its done to death but if you feel like than why the hell not? I love all occasions all celebrations. I think we cannot have enough excuses to be happy. Especially after Arav I feel the need to exaggerate all celebrations. Today he came from school and asked me to drive him to the mall. “Because I want to buy you something. Because teacher said its valentines day and you should gift someone you love the most. And its you mamma I love you the most and I want to buy you a nice nail polish. Pink or orange.” And that’s all it took for my heart to melt into a mush. So haters can hate and cynics can roll their eyes. But I love someone who wears their heart on their sleeve.

Happy to be sappy :)

Happy valentines day again