Witty Serendipity

I lie in bed at night and read. I block out the news and the noisy world when I read. I also munch on something spicy or salty or sour when I read. I read fiction, mostly. He plays games on his phone. He watches news and interviews, and gets into long discussions on Facebook chains. If he gets hungry late at night, he eats a sandwich, sometimes with jam. He used to read, now doesn't. And that's one of my life's biggest aims -- to get him to start reading again! And, don't even get me started on mindless games on the phone! (Yes, fine, they aren't mindless, they need strategy and smarts, yada yada yada...) Our reactions to situations differ. I'm great in a crisis, he stresses out. I can be outwardly calm even under stress, he looks as frazzled as his mind feels. I'm judgemental, logical, impatient. He's great with people, both, at reading them and making them comfortable. He doesn't judge, and he has much, much more patience. He spends too ...

How do I even begin to write this post? I've now written and deleted the opening sentence eight times, and none of them seem to be saying what I want to say! Six months ago, as the day dawned on the 26th of March, at around 5:30 AM, I was getting ready to go to a hospital in Trivandrum, and then on to the airport to catch a flight to Delhi, and take our baby home. I'd been up most of the previous night, with a 14-month old with a congested chest who wheezed with discomfort if I tried to lay her down on the bed. So, I sat up against the headboard of the hotel bed, and hummed under my breath each time she moved. Earlier that night, we had been at the hospital to nebulise her. After almost 3 hours and 5 bouts of nebulisation, the doctors had brought out a form for us me to sign if we wanted to take her home against their advice of admitting her. She was active, playful, and naughty; the nebulisation had made her breathing much easier, and we'd started her off on oral ...

...on demand is one of the benefits of having a baby. [From: 'If Animals Kissed Good Night', by Ann Whitford Paul & David Walker] Our almost-21-month old is turning into a compulsive hugger, and comes at you with arms spread wide if you ask her for one. She is also the best kisser-away of hurts. If she even so much as sees an old scar, a healed cut, or even an almost-faded-away bruise, she'll point to it and say "OH-ohhh", and proceed to press her stretched-tight lips to it, and go 'ummmmmmaaaaaaa'. There! You're all good!

One of my favourite parts of the day is waking up a few minutes before my baby does, and waiting for her to open her eyes. She looks at me, and rolls, sometimes crawls, towards me - sometimes with a sleepy smile, sometimes with a demanding grim expression on her peanut face - to be held close and kissed good morning. We cuddle for 5 minutes before she finally sees the dog, and remembers the very important lick she must give Muffin. After falling all over Muffin trying to hug her, she then turns to my left, and in her loud imperious voice, shouts "Da-daaaa", while shaking G awake. Of course, the shaking is pointless, because this man who has wanted multiples of "just 5 minutes more" every morning for the last ten years , is now wide awake the very first time his daughter calls out to him. Though, to be fair, the insistent, loud voice, with a tone of such ownership does demand instant attention. But those five minutes of holding her are just... sigh. What makes ...

[Repost from Facebook; original post dated May 3rd, 2017] Kindle in hand, reading Anuja Chauhan's latest , munching on tapioca chips, sipping chilled mint and lemon flavoured water, in a cool room, while my baby and one of the dogs take a nap next to me; and if I raise my head, I see a large-ish balcony full of tall palms - and I suddenly realise how very glad and thankful I am for having what I have. For having worked hard and well to earn the comfort of now, and knowing that I deserve the break. For having had the crazy stroke of luck (from someone who doesn't believe in fate), to have found Anaaira, and brought her home. And, for having a family like I do, all of whom - in Meerut, London, Boston, Doha, Aurangabad, and Delhi - are waiting even as I type this, for a 'plink' on their WhatsApp with more photos and videos of the imp who's filled our various homes and hearts. And, all of this, and so much more, reminds me of this song .

What a beautiful rainy day it is! The soft constant hush of the falling rain, the heady smell of geeli mitti (hate the sound of ' petrichor '!), and my baby sleeping next to me. Fulfillment came with such serendipity that it blew me away with its sudden whoosh -ness. This blog is to remember the wonderfully serendipitous things that are slowly slipping out of my mind, lulled as it is by happiness and peace.