Once Upon a Diary

Outings - Millenium Centre and Hmuifang Tlang

2011-11-10T18:09:00.002+05:30

Two holidays in a week! What more could anyone ask for?

I always have this compulsion to do 'something' on holidays. So on Monday, which was 'Id', I took Ruatfeli and her cousins to Millennium center. Some enterprising people have set up shop right on the front, with inflatable pools and beanbags and the likes. Feli went bonkers, giggling and laughing and falling all over herself; 'A nuam lutuk! A nuihzathlak e!!' etc.

We bought one, officially for Ruatsanga, his birthday is on the 13th, but unofficially, it's Ruatfeli's. Sanga is lucky if he doesn't get his eyes gouged out.

And today, we went on an impromptu visit to Hmuifang tlang. We asked some other people to come along, but they all declined, so it was just us, with my niece and nephew and Mami.

The road to Hmuifang was pretty decent, but full of turns. Feli puked all over me in the car, white pieces of rice on my clothes and the car seat. We all got out and Rina did his number too, in yellow. We cleaned up as best as we could and finally reached the place, everyone tired and some in a sour mood.Things improved after lunch, and we explored the more accessible areas. Hruaii got a leech on her foot, I was more freaked out than her.

The Restaurant

With Hruaii

With Rina

Wild berries?

Mushrooms, poisonous??

It was a great outing, wide open spaces, grass, trees, tipsy taxi-drivers on a day off (!). And on the way back, Feli bestowed a little more puking on me, this time Kurkure flavoured with a lot of tomato sauce.

It was fun, but no more road trips in the near future, the end does not quite justify the means.

Excerpt from the life of...

2011-10-31T08:38:00.000+05:30

On the way to the toilet, I noticed Ruatfeli has scrawnier verions of my terrible legs.

'Do you want legs like Mummy or beautiful legs?'
'Beautiful legs!'
'Really? Don't you want legs just like mummy's?'
'No, I want beautiful legs, like Barbie's.'

Unsubdued laughter from dad in the bedroom.

The big 'L' and other things.

2011-10-19T17:21:00.002+05:30

I've gone back to learning how to drive again. 'Again' being the operative word. So the silver A-star with a big, red 'L' on it is mine. I'm wondering if I should buy red electrical tapes in dozens, or buy a small can of red paint, either one could be a good investment.

I've improved quite a bit since my last learning episode. But taxis are the bane of my existence. They stop wherever they like, be it at the curve of a steep incline or just before a blind turn, you name it, they do it. And their crazy passengers open car doors whenever it suits them too. Some incessantly honk when I stop, making me even more nervous. Pedestrians make life hard for me too - chatting while walking slowly side by side, while I am haplessly trying to go as slowly as possible without the engine dying on me. A seasoned driver would handle everything with ease, but me, I am definitely a slow learner, and sometimes I wonder why I try at all.

Onto brighter things. Feli can say most anything now. Yesterday she looked me square in the eye, pointed her forefinger at me, and asked me in all seriousness, 'I zun a chhuak em?'. I said 'No'. Then, in the same manner - 'I ek a chhuak em?'. I could hardly control my laugh, I guess she learned it from me. I have to constantly tell her, 'Lem tawh rawh' when she's having her meal. Somedays, I'd take her to the toilet, and she'd take her own sweet time, and I'd keep urging her to go, and I'd catch myself saying 'Lem rawh, lem rawh' at the loo. She'd tell her U Thlatei, 'Thlate, i cho rual ka ni hleinem', from the song 'Ka pi zunah maw..'. She's definitely loveable, but she could be turning out to be a little of a brat.

Malsawmtluanga birthday lawmna

A ngaihsan em em, 'milem' te nen

Ruatsanga, on the other hand, bears the brunt of his sister's ire. She was getting adjusted to him, but now that he can laugh, wave bye bye etc, her jealousy to him has resurfaced, with a vengeance! She swipes at him in passing, and sometimes in a more calculated way. If he is engrossed with a toy, it has to be instantly removed. I lectured her for half an hour one night, and after listening intently about how small and fragile her brother is, she goes, 'Kei chu bauh bauh te, miau miau te ka duat'. He was crawling on the floor one day, and she stepped carefully on his hand. In a hurry, I shouted 'A ke i rap a nia!'. She looked at me, and in all righteousness said, ' A ni lo, a ni lo, a KUT alawm'. Huiham. One day, he too shall have his revenge!

Nui mawi! :)

Joy is Like the Rain

2011-09-11T10:49:00.000+05:30

You probably know this song. I think I learned it in Mary Mount School and sang it in morning assemblies, its meaning unfathomed. Then I forgot all about it, till recently when, out of nowhere, I hummed it to my daughter. I looked up the lyrics on the internet, and found this video which I really like.

The words are simple, but I think I can understand what it says only now.

"I can see clearly now' performed later is also a wonderful song. If you haven't watched it yet, please do! You'll like it, promise.

I saw rain drops on my window, Joy is like the rain.
Laughter runs across my pane, Slips away and comes again.
Joy is like the rain.

I saw clouds upon a mountain, Joy is like a cloud.
Sometimes silver, sometimes gray, Always sun not far away.
Joy is like a cloud.

I saw Christ in wind and thunder, Joy is tried by storm.
Christ asleep within my boat, Whipped by wind, yet still afloat,
Joy is tried by storm.

I saw rain drops on a river, Joy is like the rain,
Bit by bit the river grows, 'til all at once it overflows.
Joy is like the rain.

Science Center, Berawtlang

2011-09-04T11:29:00.001+05:30

We visited the Science center at Berawtlang last Wedenesday. It was thankfully open, unlike the other times when we travel for quite a bit only to realize the place is closed.

It's turning out to be quite a popular place to take kids on holidays. It would be great if they had a contact number where we can ask if they would be open on particular holidays, and also confirm timings of their 3D and planetarium shows.

There are wide open spaces and nicely designed buildings with different exhibits like Mizo utensils, handloom and beautifully constructed model villages. There was a Wildlife section, aptly dimly lit.

Feli deserves an Oscar for this one :)

Feli and Sanga, mnwith his bib and bottle

The actual scientific area had fun stuff, like the different coloured liquids which simply won't mix, fun mirrors, lights and sounds.

The 3D theater was undoubtedly the biggest attraction. Kids were screaming, recoiling from snakes and reaching out for apples and other objects. I spared my kids the excitement of the show, they don't take loud noises and enclosed spaces well. It was a day well spent. Although once we reached home, Sanga was a tired, hungry little boy and Feli passed out in the car :)

2011-06-27T14:10:00.000+05:30

It's been ages since my last post, probably reflects the excitement level of my life:P. It's an endless sequel of kids and work, and kids and work. My social life is zilch, not that I miss it much. I had quite a lot of friends pre-motherhood. I'm still in touch with those friends, but home keeps me well-occupied I suppose. Except for the occasional dinner, mostly with other friends who are also married with kids, it's home, home, home.

Ruatfeli's been sick since the last two days. She has tonsillitis and she won't swallow solids, and can only be persuaded to take in a little juice. Ruatsanga recently recovered from measles too. So we're up to our ears in drops and medicines, and interrupted sleep. These little upsets make us realize again how precious health is. I took the day off today because Feli is a little irritable, hence the time to post :)

Here are some new pictures. Ruatsanga was baptized on 29th May. The pictures in church were taken by a professional photographer, so I don't have a soft copy to upload here. He was a real sport during the ceremony and didn't make a fuss at all.

Here he is with his cousin Ryan, my brother's youngest. He's younger than Sanga by 12 days, but he seems to be slightly bigger. Grrrr.

Feli and Sanga

Sanga adores his sister, he laughs and gurgles whenever she's around. Sadly, the sentiment is not returned by Feli. She snatches toys, dolls, anything that Sanga is playing with. She gives him little slaps and scratches, and poor Sanga, quite oblivious to his punishments, merely stares and bears the blows. One day he too shall have his revenge, vows I, the Omnimother.

Here's the little monster :)

And here she is acting all angelic.

Losing it

2011-04-26T14:54:00.000+05:30

I hate losing anything. I suppose I share that trait with most other people, but I find it hard to accept loss, even of insignificant little things.

I recently misplaced/lost our pendrive, and it's driving me nuts. I remember seeing it in the cupboard as I was leaving. The thing is I can't remember if I took it out of the house or not. So I keep looking through the same cupboard, for several 'last times'.

I looked to Ruatfeli for help. I had 'lost' the same pendrive a few months ago, and she had tucked it neatly under the CPU. And since she can talk a little now, I asked her hopefully, 'Where is the pen drive, the one which we insert in the computer?' (Not in those words, ofcourse, she hardly speaks Mizo itself). She helpfully nods, says, 'E!' and starts patting the mattress, 'Hetah hian, hetah hian.'. So I lift the mattress of our 9 foot bed and start looking, and it's not there. I ask her again and she goes 'E!', and points at the drawer where I keep Ruatsanga's diapers, 'Hetah hian, hetah hian.'. After going through several drawers, and cupboards and no pendrive in sight, I realise my little daughter has no idea where it is. I briefly thought of putting a notice in the local newsletter, but since I had written my name and phone number on the pendrive and no one has called, I figured the finder follows the 'finders, keepers' theology.

So now I've conceded defeat and will have to shell out a few hundreds for a new pen drive. Although the missing pen drive has nothing to do with her, the fact that someone warned me my daily help has a history of lifting things does not ease my mind at all :P

Che chhia

2011-03-26T15:03:00.001+05:30

Hmanni chu ka che chhe ve khawp mai. Pavalai Conference kan veng in kan thleng dawn a. Mikhual kan thlen theih dawn leh dawn loh mi pakhat hian min rawn zawt a. Keini chhangchhia, nula pakhat zawk haw tum bawk, ka huphurh angreng khawp mai a. Rawn riak tur emaw ka ti bawk si, chutia min han zawh takah chuan, 'Aih' tih a rem aniang chu ka tia. Tawngkam thiam vak lo nen, 'Kan chhangchhe em mai, kan thleng ve lo mai dawn em ni?' ka tia. Min zawt tupa lah chuan, 'E, awle', a ti sam ve mai a, a kal leh ta mai a.

A hnuah ka chhungte hnenah ka sawi a, mawl min ti hlawm khawp mai a. An nuih te chu a za phian bawk a. Riak tur chu mi nazawng chuan an lo thleng lo va, chaw ei tur chuan an thleng nual a ni awm e. Engpawhnise, engvakah ka ngai lova, ka theihnghilh zui ve leh mai a. Pathianni chuan H-a hmelhriatte pahnih chuan chaw chu an rawn ei tho ta thova. 10 chaw ei tur a inring kan chhungte ho lah chu an mikhual tur te chuan ngawi rengin an rilru thlak leh a, 3 chiah ten chaw an ei ang lawi a. Rawng an bawl thlawn hlawm nual ni awm tak a ni.

A hnu daihah H-an min hau leh a, Hospitalah veng dang daih a doctor dangten kan mikhual thlen ve loh chu an lo kap a ni awm e. Hrehawm ka ti leh hnuhnawh leh khawp mai a. Pavalai tih vel lo ngaih pawimawh loh mahnak a laiin, thu lah chu darh chak phian a. Hetia kan post phei chuan a darh belh leh nel nual dawn a nih hi :) Keini mi mawl tan chuan Mizo society ah chuan chetchhiat a awl in hmingchhiat a va awl hma dawn ve aw!

Photos

2011-03-15T12:43:00.001+05:30

A pi pangpar bulah

I am lost for words. Whenever I try to post a non-baby related post, nothing comes to mind. So here are some more photographs.

Ke tin mawi mawi.

Ruatsanga on becoming 4 months old

With little red riding hood.

Baby bottle feeding her baby


A u te tih ang zelin.

Update

2011-02-22T13:21:00.002+05:30

It's barely two months since my last post and what a lot of things happened in between!

First off, our maid went home and we went through a stream of maids in a span of a month. We encountered characters you would find in novels. It was mind boggling and distressing and exasperating and it really really made me feel crazy on the bad days. We had 14 year olds happily tossing used diapers out the window and talking with mouth full of 'tuibur'. They would nonchalantly throw their used 'sahdah' under their bed, between almirahs and everywhere else. I would spend most of my free time cleaning after them. They did help, but it was also a huge relief when they left.

Our house was a one and half bedroomed, single bathroomed home. It was fine when we were only three adults and Ruatfeli. With the arrival of Ruatsanga, my aunt came to help us in our maid-less state. Then God gave us two nice and normal new maids, and sleeping and using the toilet became something of a problem. So shifted to a bigger house. And I would be kind and spare you the details of how hectic it was shifting with two babies to take care of.

In the meantime our phone had to be reconnected and since we use BSNL, we did not have internet. The linesmen came a few weeks back but the phone did not work. We kept calling a relative who worked at BSNL and she sent the linesmen again today. The problem was that the wire was not inserted into the phone correctly. I felt like a moron. The internet is working again and I feel like a kid with a new toy.

Ruatfeli turned 2 on Saturday (19th feb) and we celebrated her birthday on Sunday with tea and cakes. She's learning a little Mizo and knows words like 'khawihsuh', 'chhangthawp', tibua', 'sava' etc. But most of the time she reverts to 'e,e,e' and 'aw, aw,aw' and hand gestures. She picks on her brother and marks her jealousy on his face with scratches and once, a bite mark. Then she discovered there are a whole lot of other places she can scratch and now goes around scratching anyone within striking distance. She also growls. She's quite the little fighter, and is an embarrassment a lot of times, totally deviant from her previously sweet nature. People in the know say it's just a phase. I hope she grows out of it soon. Here are some pictures.

Ruatfeli was 1 year and 9 months old when her brother was born. We have people joking with us all the time about the lack of spacing between them. Then there are people who say it's better to be 'chhangchhia'. I don't even know if there is an equivalent word in other languages. Anyhow, I say the people who think it's a joy to be chhangchia are bonkers!, or they have a problem with longterm memory. Because people who recently have come out of chhangchhiatna don't ever recommend it.

Sometimes I feel like I am two-timing the kids, secretly giving one attention while worrying about the other. When you cannot give both babies your whole attention, neither kid is happy and you end up with two kids in the throes of tantrum....if there is such a thing as throes of tantrums. So my advice, if anyone is listening is SPACING :). Even with two maids, 'chhangchhiat' is hardly ever a joy.

Welcome to our world

2010-12-02T14:40:00.000+05:30

Ruatsanga Renthlei was born at 9:30 am on 13th November, 2010, weighing 3.250 kg.

Elder sister Ruatfeli is confused and a little jealous, and being unable to vocalise....she has taken to throwing tantrums every now and then. So we are the perfect example of a 'chhangchhe' family. H distracts one while I put one to sleep. Then the other one has to put lulled to sleep. If one wakes up and wakes the other one, then you have two very sleep deprived parents. Both (the kids) are yet to be toilet-trained and Ruatfeli has five meals a day and two naps. Life is pure bliss!! :)

All posts lead to...

2010-11-12T18:02:00.001+05:30

.....Ruatfeli. She's 1year 9 months now and is the joy of our lives. It's strange to think she didn't even exist before, that we coped and got along fine without her. Now, she's our first thought, first concern, our little joy-maker, who is still so innocent and unaware of the happiness and worry she brings to our lives.

When she's quiet for too long..she's definitely upto some mischief.

She loves all thing pretty and girly.. lipsticks and creams and nailpolishes. First thing she does when she wakes up is look at her newly painted nails :)

Poor little tyke is not even 2 years old and she's going to be a big sister in a few weeks. Everyone is wondering how she will cope, especially me! I hope she's more resilient than I give her credit for.

Do not disturb

2010-10-11T17:50:00.000+05:30

Nobody likes to be disturbed unnecessarily. Although we Mizos are probably much more patient and polite than others, maybe because we ourselves are so social!

What brought this post about is the advertisement I saw today on 'Vanglaini', October 10-11, 2010, Vol XXV, No 235.

While the rest of India has been grappling with the issue of Unsolicited Commercial Communications (UCC) for the last few years, Mizoram continues to be quite oblivious to our rights. Most of the major mobile services in India are available in Mizoram- Airtel, Aircel, Reliance, Vodafone, BSNL, Tata indicom to name a few. Correct me if I'm wrong, but none of them have a helpline where you can talk directly, toll-free, to a personnel who can help you with your problems and queries.

I use Airtel prepaid services, and I hardly get telemarketing calls on my mobile. Their *121# menu is quite useful. I have registered with 'Do not disturb' registry, and although they occasionally start weird services like 'Good morning sms', 'Cricket updates' etc, I can stop these services through the '121' menu.

On the other hand, Aircel has zillions of numbers where robotic, peppy people on prozac talk to you in Hindi and English, and they will call you up anytime of day or night. H has a whole 'vai group' of contacts, vai1 to vai22, vaichhia, vainu, etc who share a subtle ringtone so he doesn't have to pick up the calls. But they come up with new numbers all the time. Most Aircel users I know have the same problem and nobody knows how to stop these maniacal callers.

And let's not even start on BSNL.

And now comes this blatant advertisement on our daily newspaper. I am thinking of calling the numbers on the advertisement and warning them of dire consequences if I get even one unsolicited call.

You can check out the present TRAI guidelines on UCCs at http://ndncregistry.gov.in/ndncregistry/index.jsp.
Some salient points:
-Sms 'START DND' to 1909 to register.
- It takes a whooping 45 days to be registered.
-You can check your DND status by entering your mobile number at the 'DND registration check' on the same site. Mine is :)
-Rs 500/- is payable by the telemarketer to the service provider (not the customer, bleh) for every first UCC.
-Rs 1000/- is payable for every subsequent UCC.
-The telemarketer's phone number may be disconnected if UCC is sent even after levy of Rs 500 and Rs 1000.
-If the service provider does not comply with TRAI regulations, they may pay upto Rs 5000 for the first, and upto Rs 20,000 for subsequent non-compliance, to TRAI I suppose, not the poor customer.

So there you have it. I am hoping my registration with DND will stop the hopeful advertiser from giving away my number. But this is Mizoram, and anything can happen in Mizoram, especially in ways of flaunting laws. We do need more awareness of our rights, and we need to be more vocal, more staunch, so that vais or fellow-Mizos alike stop abusing our rights.

Snippets

2010-09-11T17:01:00.000+05:30

Ruatfeli's hesitance to start walking preyed constantly on my mind, like her failure to become a fat, chubby little baby like her peers. I tried to play it down, and said she will have her whole life to walk on her own, etc. But you see and hear about precocious little hussies walking even before they turn one year old, and the mother in you cannot help but hope she does start walking too.

I guess everything comes in good time. Towards July end, she started standing on her own, but only on the bed. Then she started taking steps, again only on the bed and not on the floor. She's pretty careful, I guess :). Later on, if we gave her something she really likes, like 'vaimim chhum', she would walk all around the house, clutching the vaimim for dear life. She didn't like to walk around empty handed, she'd simply stand till someone gives her a hand, or she'd go back to crawling. At 1 year and 6 months, she was finally walking around confidently, and sometimes she won't hold our hands even when we want her too. I guess she's reveling in her new found independence. Now she goes walking about the house, taking a peek at us sitting in different rooms, and walk away as soon as we call her name. Although we spent so much time worrying about her milestones, I suppose she's finally caught up with most of her peers. Now all we have to do is worry about when she'll start talking, and then her schooling :)

On other news, today is Eid. And I was really looking forward to it because I wanted to browse leisurely through Thakthing tlang secondhand market without worrying about being late for work. Every Saturday, the secondhand people from all over Aizawl come and spread their goods at Thakthing, and you can get real good finds here. I usually don't get beyond vegetable shopping on other days because I'd have to go to work. But like I said, it was a holiday today. So I marched up the hill, pregnant and all (yep, it's a little soon ), bypassing vegetables and meat alike, and started riffling through a pile of baby clothes. I checked my bag to see if my purse was still there, and it was. I finally chose a shirt for Ruatfeli's sibling-to-be, and when I reached for my purse to pay for it, it wasn't there! Someone had picked it, in the twinkling of an eye, and I stood up, mind reeling, and all I could see was would-be pickpockets teeming all around me.

I called up H and told him the bad news. His curt reply was 'So what can we do?'. A little commiseration would have been nice, but he'd always said I was careless with my purse, so his reaction was not unexpected.

My purse was quite new, the most expensive one I'd ever owned, purchased in Kolkata for me by Hlimpuii. I didn't carry a lot of cash, around 900/- of my own, and our department's lunch money in my care, about 500/-. I was more worried about my ATM card, my driving license, my electoral ID, work ID, the key to our almirah, and also....my husband's electoral ID! I am guilty of carrying everything in my wallet. I have to say in my defense I don't usually lose things. I used to be quite proud of myself for not losing cash or mobile phones, unlike some of my hair-brained friends (Padma for one!). Now I feel terrible, I have flashbacks of my fine leathered walllet being manhandled, visions of my poor ATM card getting abused, the thief coming to our house and opening our almirah, the hassle of getting duplicate IDs and license, etc.

A lot of good Eid brought me, I hope you guys had a better holiday.

Bad news, Bad news

2010-07-29T17:12:00.001+05:30

A friend's sister, aged 29, was recently found to have multiple lumps in her liver through ultrasonography. The initial FNAC (fine needle aspiration cytology) showed only blood, so we were hoping the lesion would turn out to be a benign or infective one. But since the family was a little panicky, their doctor immediately referred them to a bigger centre without a repeat FNAC. And now I hear she might be having cancer of the colon which has in fact metastasized to her liver.

And just this week, one of H's close friend's mother was found to have cancer of the colon with metastasis to the liver.

A 22 year old man from Lunglei went to the doctor because the lump in his neck felt 'ugly'. They turned out to be malignant. Biopsy from his nasopharynx showed the cancer started from there.

A 14 year old girl from Saiha has lumps on her neck, which kept growing. Biopsy and CT scan showed she had widespread Lymphoma.

A 9 year old boy has a hugely swollen upper jaw. Investigations proved he has cancer of the maxilla.

We have 360 cases of cancer in Civil hospital, Aizawl so far this year (some duplication possible from FNACs, then biopsies). That is approximately 51 cases per month. The statistics are scary. And the saddest cases are the ones where the patients are still so young!

Homemaker extraordinaire :)

2010-07-19T17:46:00.001+05:30

I spent last weekend trying to develop my homemaking skills. Somebody introduced me to homemade soya mayonnaise and I really loved the taste. So I looked up the recipe on the www and it turned out pretty simple to make.

I. Making the soya milk :

Bought 1 kg of soya seeds from the market. They were mixed with little stones and other debris, so required a good cleaning.
Soaked a little less than half kg overnight in water. This amount proved to be way too much, a quater kg (250gm) would be more appropriate for personal use.
Next day, I blended the soya beans with thrice the volume of water in a blender. Since my mixie jar is small, I had to do it in several batches.
I strained the whole slurry through a muslin (read cotton) cloth and boiled the milk for around 10 minutes.
I got around 2 litres of soya milk.

II. Making the soya mayonnaise:
You need:

1 cup of soya milk
Half a tsp of salt
1 tsp of lime juice
1/4th tsp black pepper powder
2 egg yolks (optional)
1 cup of vegetable oil.

The procedure is simple. Blend 1-5 in a mixer. Add the vegetable oil a few drops at a time and blend till the whole cup is added to the mixture. Adding the oil slowly seems to be the most important part. If you add it too fast, the oil tends to float. I got 2 jars and a half from 2 cups of soy milk. Taste great!! Just like store bought mayonnaise, but better than the Funfood brand. Only problem is you can keep it only for a week or so.

I also made these moist chocolate cakes. I think they taste better than they look :P

And some pictures of Ruatfeli

With her new umbrella...

My take

2010-07-11T11:00:00.001+05:30

It was disturbing for me to read that the Mizoram Law Commission was planning to reduce the age of consent from 16 to 14 years. www.news.outookindia.com/item.aspx?687062

I don't think children at 14 have the required maturity to decide to have sex. Most girls would be undergoing sexual development, with development of breasts, menstruation etc at that age, and full development is said to be at 16 to 18 years. And boys are known to be slightly slower than girls! So even with our changing lifestyle and maybe a slight precocity seen in today's children, 14 is way too young, for males or females, to start having sex.

The argument for the cause is that men who have consensual sex with underaged girls are having to face charges of rape. In my book, serves them right! I don't think any self-respecting, God-fearing, NORMAL man would go around having sex with a 14 or 15 year old even if she happens to be a Lolita. An adult has to show restraint, even the face of great temptation. I don't think it saves him from being labelled as anything more than a pedophile. And if there is sex between two underaged children, I don't think that makes it any more right. We as parents and adults have to simply try to teach children about the right time to have sex, and taking the extreme shortcut of reducing the age of consent is a terrible injustice done to all future generations. Because a law once passed, will be difficult to change, if not impossible.

So what will be the possible consequences if this new age of consent comes to pass?

Much younger children are going to start having early sex. Even with the present age of consent being 16, there are already many underaged children indulging in sex. When it actually becomes legal, we can expect 12 and 13 year olds to start experimenting with sex.
More men are going to beguile and persuade innocent children to have sex, or rape them, and then say it was consensual in defense.
Parents will have to be even more careful and maybe even neurotic, about what their child is upto. I for one will not want to my children to have pre-marital sex, forget about sex at 16. And since even the most careful parents can never completely protect their offsprings, we would be living in constant fear in a world which is growing too fast, too complex for us.
Studies say early sexual encounters lead to delinquency, poor mental health and adversely affect a child's entire future life. I don't think there is a study that says the reverse.

So why encourage and legalise something which we already know to be harmful? Shouldn't we instead make sure the present law is carried out more firmly and stringently? The reason there are so many orphaned children and divorces in our state is that too many kids have sex without proper education, get pregnant, get an easy marriage and get an equally easy divorce.

Chick flicks

2010-07-08T17:00:00.000+05:30

I love movies that make you cry. It is the only masochistic side of me, because anything else that causes pain is abhorrent to me. But put me alone in a dimly lit room, and play a movie that will squeeze my tear ducts dry, and I will be happily wiping my tears away.

We all have so many disappointments in life, inconveniences and little things not going your way. But when you're all grown up, you cannot cry at the minor stuff anymore. So crying at the heartaches and misfortunes of imaginary (or sometimes real) people is a soul cleanser for me.

'My sister's keeper' is a wonderful story about a sick teenage girl, and how she and her family members all respond to her sickness. All so believable performed and heart-wrenchingly told. I loved the little romance she experienced while dying of a terminal disease and all.

'P.S. I love you' is tenderly hopeful, in the terrible scenario of loving someone you love. I've been blessed with not losing a dear one, yet! And just the mere imagination of doing so scares me to death. I've always wanted to die before I lose anyone I love, because I am too cowardly to deal with the pain of losing someone you love. The finally of death and their consequent absence is way too terrible to contemplate.

"The lovely bones" is also beautifully made. The father's anguish and helplessness is something anyone can empathise with, especially if you are a parent. The surreal quality of the entire film, the hopeful desire to see the evil neighbour found out and arrested kept me entranced through the movie. I would only have arranged a more violent end for the bad man than the one he had.

Other tear-jerkers are 'Stepmom', 'Love story', 'Switched at birth', and the rest can't come to mind at present. If you haven't seen these movies, you should go see them. It's therapeutic to have puffy, swollen eyes at someone else's expense.

Arrgghh! etc

2010-06-23T18:35:00.000+05:30

My driving is driving me crazy. I feel like a particularly slow student who can never understand a particular formula.

I can drive forward fine, I am actually beginning to enjoy our early morning rides. But I've been trying to learn how to back and park, and I am doing everything wrong! I have a major directional problem. I can never remember right and left. I have to actually think 'right hand, left hand' whenever a patient tells me he has a lump on his right neck, because I'd otherwise start feeling his left neck for the lump. And when I give directions to autorickshaw/taxi drivers, I always tell them the wrong side. Now when I try to reverse, I go in the opposite direction, always! It's driving me mad! I feel like giving up.

My other recent problem is that I forget things. I would get up to do something and find that I have already done it. I usually don't lose things, I am usually meticulous with where I put stuff so I pride myself in not being one of those harebrained ladies. But age is catching up with me and fast.

Lately I find myself hunting high and low for things I know I kept somewhere. Most of the times, I'd find it neatly tucked away. A neighbour asked to borrow our ration card today, and that made me discover I have no idea where the heck it is. I'll hunt some more, and when I don't find it, H will tell me off a little. And I'll go apply for a duplicate, and once I get the copy, I'll probably find the original safely filed away somewhere. I just know I'm doomed for a miserable old age.

The SAD syndrome

2010-06-18T23:00:00.002+05:30

I hate the rain. I don’t mind the occasional drizzle that cools the earth and cleanses the mind. But the constant downpour of wet, cold rain can make anyone develop some syndrome or the other.

When we were kids, rain never bothered me. It meant mostly splashing in puddles, secretly blocking the water drain on the rooftop and my brother and me having water fights. For mom, it meant wet kids, wet clothes, muddy floors. Now that I am old, with my innate practicality in full bloom, it means canceled outings, wet laundry, wet floors and wet everything.

Nothing can persuade me to get out in this weather. I would like to spend my days reading, or watching the TV or browsing the internet. I get out to work only because I have to. Going to church, to friends or families houses are way down on my list right now. For one, there’s a cousin who just delivered her first baby, and it nags me day and night to go see the little kiddo and the mother. But I keep putting it off because of the rain. The joys of hunting at secondhand markets, the pleasures of bargain sales are dampened by the incessant rain. Nothing tempts, except hot tea and the cozy bed.

God knows that rain is a blessing. Most obviously for the farmers, and even for the whiners like me. It makes me feel slightly guilty that I complain so much about something that is so necessary for life. And if it was sunny for days on end, I'd probably be one with the worst heat-stroke. But then again, the wet-cold state of affairs does do something to me. It makes me irritable, melancholic and a little crazy. Some smart alec went and described a condition - Seasonal Affective Disorder, aptly SAD for short. This is probably not even a proper syndrome, more likely just a manifestation of a worse mood in moody people brought on by bad weather. But it does make one feel better. 'Oh, there's such a syndrome that describes my symptoms exactly. I'm not just grumpy, I actually have a syndrome!'.And you are no longer a psychotic going around the bend, but just another poor old sod with a fancy syndrome.

Update

2010-06-12T14:37:00.001+05:30

So what happened during my five month long hiatus? Nothing much really. I still work at the same job, and do mostly the same thing everyday.

Ruatfeli did turn 1 though. She's now 1 year old and 3 months old. Here's a picture of her with all the presents her well-wishers gave her.

She continues to thrive and amaze us, but refuses to walk....on her own at least. Maybe we should enjoy her dependency on us a little longer, because once she can walk, she will be running and we'd probably be spending all our time chasing her. There is a lovely 8 year old neighbour whose parents say began her walk only at 1 year 8 months. That gives us a lot of reassurance. Who cares if there are precocious little babies who can walk at 7 months?

In the meantime, I've gone back to learning how to drive a car. This is really my 4th attempt, and my final attempt. When I mention that I'm taking lessons to mom, her reply is "Again?!". Anyway, I roped in a kindly neighbour to teach me, and he is patient and persevering, and I'm learning a lot of things I didn't get to before. I've mastered the starting and the stopping, and can change gears without hitting anything. But I am somehow inclined to veer towards the opposite direction when I reverse. I manage to pass other cars on blind turns, and almost hit a car only once. I've developed a new-found respect for all drivers, including taxi-drivers. I'm hopeful that I would finally drive alone in traffic before year end. So finger's crossed that I don't hit you or anyone else!

Filler

2010-01-25T19:59:00.000+05:30

What good is a blog if you have no idea what to post on it? Nothing much seems to happen in my life these days, which is also a good thing, but does nothing to my post list.

The only thing that I can think of are gripes, all negative and angry about minor upsets that happen all the time. For example, the perfectly horrible time I had with SBI. I could go on and on about it. My request for a new ATM PIN took 4 months, and the staff's helpful reply to my query - 'How can you lose your ATM PIN?'. (According to them, I shouldn't have torn up the letter telling me my PIN, even though it was their firm instruction to do so.) But who wants to listen to just another nobody ranting uselessly against the world?

So the only solution in these wordless days are pictures, and who's a better candidate than Ruatfeli?

With some of her cousins.

2010

2010-01-05T14:53:00.001+05:30

The maid went home for New Year and I reminded myself how terribly ill-tempered I am. Thank God she's back now.

Mizoram, full of meat-enthusiastic Mizos, is once again threatened by 'Food and Mouth' disease. Our locality, for one, had to go without beef on our Christmas and New Year feasts. It was just two meals but I did miss the beef. H does not take it, so an opportunity to have the dish is always looked forward to.

The Director of the Veterinary world said on the local news last night that eating meat of FMD-infected animals is not advised for many reasons, although he didn't (couldn't?) go into details. On curiosity's sake I looked it up on the net, FMDinfo.org clearly says......
Food Safety While the FMD virus may be present in the uncooked meat and some types of milk products from contaminated animals, it would be destroyed when these products are cooked. The virus does not affect humans and the primary risk of raw products is transmission of the virus to susceptible animals.

So we could merely be overreacting to the epidemic, although obviously the butchers and the meat-handlers could be at some risk.

Anywhichway, it's a new year, and most of us haven't gotten used to writing the date yet. The future is full of hope, and it's a mystery what this year is going to bring us. I hope the happy times will far outweigh the sad ones, and that you'll spend more time laughing than worrying.

Read this little speech by Chetan Bhagat, who is currently big in the news for mostly the wrong reasons.

Speech by Chetan Bhagat at Symbiosis

Don't just have career or academic goals. Set goals to give you a balanced, successful life. I use the word balanced before successful. Balanced means ensuring your health, relationships, mental peace are all in good order.

There is no point of getting a promotion on the day of your breakup. There is no fun in driving a car if your back hurts. Shopping is not enjoyable if your mind is full of tensions.

"Life is one of those races in nursery school where you have to run with a marble in a spoon kept in your mouth. If the marble falls, there is no point coming first. Same is with life where health and relationships are the marble. Your striving is only worth it if there is harmony in your life. Else, you may achieve the success, but this spark, this feeling of being excited and alive, will start to die. ....................

One thing about nurturing the spark - don't take life seriously. Life is not meant to be taken seriously, as we are really temporary here. We are like a pre-paid card with limited validity. If we are lucky, we may last another 50 years. And 50 years is just 2,500 weekends. Do we really need to get so worked up? ................

It's ok, bunk a few classes, scoring low in couple of papers, goof up a few interviews, take leave from work, fall in love, little fights with your spouse. We are people, not programmed devices........." :)

"Don't be serious, be sincere."!!

Merry Christmas Everyone!

2009-12-26T12:07:00.000+05:30

It's Christmas once again. Decorations are out, and everyone is decked up in their finest. So let's all be glad that we are still here, alive and healthy this joyous season.

Let not our determination to be merry bring sadness or pain to our loved ones.

May Peace and Joy reign supreme this Christmas and New year.

Travails of a travelling baby

2009-12-15T18:37:00.001+05:30

It all started with the maid. She informed me one day that she would have to go home because her family was laying a foundation on her father's grave. I couldn't say no.

With her away, I would have to get another maid to help me and take leave the whole time she was gone. I mentioned my problem to my mother, and we mulled over it and the idea of going on a journey was born. This was in October, and we thought Ruatfeli would be big enough to travel by December. So tickets were booked, first only to Kolkata and back, then later to Delhi too because everyone thought there would be nothing to do in Kolkata for 4 days.

It was to be a large group - my parents, my brother and his wife with their two kids, and three of us, 9 in all with infant. As the time drew nearer the doubts grew bigger. How do I cope with the multiple feeding and naps? What if Feli gets sick? What if it was very cold in Delhi? What about Swine and other animal flus? Stupid me for getting nonrefundable tickets. And damn me, for ever conceiving the idea in the first place.

I made a lists of all the things that I could possibly need, and packed for four days:

6 tupperware boxes.
6 spoons
A hot flask
An electric kettle
Diapers
Half of Feli's wardrobe
Most of her medications
Oranges, diced papaya, Cerelac, dexolac, MamMam, marie biscuits
Bips and wipes.

Dad spared us his 'travel light' speech because he knew how tense I was. Not much could be done, besides canceling and losing thousands of rupees. So with fear and trepidation, 10th December came, and we left for Lengpui Airport. Feli slept on the way. So far so good. Our flight was delayed for 2 and half hours. Not so good, but somehow we could finally board the plane.

I could read fear in the Airhostesses' eyes. And loathing in the passenger who was seated next to us. In his slightly accented Mizo, he said he didn't mind the baby screaming and kicking in abandon. But it was evident in his mannerisms. We all heaved a sigh of relief when the air hostess led us to empty seats in the executive class. Feli finally breastfed and fell asleep. Now all we had to endure was 3 hours in Kolkata airport and 2 hours on the next flight.

We fed and changed Feli, she napped for several hours, but still she didn't like the next flight either. We reached Delhi, safe and slightly unsound at 12ish, and poor Feli could finally sleep on a bed.

We had loads of lists, friends and relatives requested us to get this or that for them. Everybody knows about the huge price differences. But shopping with a baby was next to impossible. We did visit my college, met my friends and got my certificates and other things. And doing that much was quite tiring enough for Feli.

(with Padma and Monisha)

(Dusserah park near Mizoram House, Delhi)

(Waiting lounge at Delhi Airport with Marilyn)
Mom offered to babysit for a day, and we managed to get some presents for other people, and several pairs of shoes for Feli, and nothing at all for H and I. But we did visit Nicco park in Kolkata....

An ugly black crow pooped on Feli and me right before the last picture. Was I mad! My kingdom for a gun.

It was wonderful to be back in Aizawl. Feli is resilient, and although she must have had a pretty tough time, she seems to be not much worse for wear, and she has settled back into her routine quite easily. And the one thing I have learnt from this trip is 'Do not travel with an infant'...atleast till they can walk, talk, eat adult food, or do the cha-cha.

Picnic break

2009-11-12T16:08:00.000+05:30

It's hard to take time off. With a six day work schedule, we wait for Sunday with baited breath, and all too soon it's Monday again.

But last Monday was different, we got invited to belatedly celebrate my brother's birthday and wedding anniversary. So we all packed off to Zote huan, baby included. By the way, Ruatfeli is not new to picnics, this is her second time. The first one was a Departmental picnic at Park Eden, which is a pretty dismal place in my book.

Zote was much better. The weather cooperated, being wonderfully sunny and clear. The spot itself was clean, and the amenities were not that bad. The pool was supposed to be drained that day, so the water couldn't help being a little on the dirty side. The utensils provided were huge! Making Ruatfeli's food was difficult on their huge burners, but probably babies were not expected at picnics. I don't really have anything negative to say about the place, but since I am no frequenter of picnic spots, nobody should take my word for it.

Health, definitely Wealth

2009-10-19T13:26:00.004+05:30

Ruatfeli is down with fever since Saturday. If she could talk, she'd probably tell me how her head hurts, how bad everything tastes, and how stuffy her nose is. Instead, she expresses her illness by being irritable and fussy.

Since she tends to puke out all medicinal things, giving her even paracetamol is an ordeal. Seeing your little one suffering is the one of the worst things you would ever have to face.

The only silver lining is I'm reminded again of the value of health. What I take for granted everyday, to be alive and healthy, is worth much more than wealth. It is the most precious of God's gift. What good is wealth if you are too sick to enjoy it? The unluckiest people in the world are the diabetics and the hypertensives, especially if they have a sweet tooth to boot.

I remember other times when people would tell me their little one is sick, and after a while, hear that the baby is well again. It seems to us only like a fleeting disruption in their lives. But a sick baby means sleepless nights, struggling with feeds, the smell of medicated syrups, and their vomited versions. Your shiny little bundle of joy becomes an irritable, hot little bundle of unvocalized pain. You're stuck in a helpless abyss, unsure of what to do, wishing you could ease her suffering or bear her pain. You remember the times when your baby gave you the brightest smile in the world, or amazed you with a new trick she learnt. And you also remember with guilt, the times when you would feel bored, or resentful of the restrictions a baby places on you. And you know you would do anything, spend any amount, be bored a thousand times, just to have her well again.

Familiar faces

2009-10-07T14:26:00.007+05:30

I went to a friend's wedding with some friends recently, and there was this guy who looked extremely familiar. I asked my friend who he was, and she said he does look really familiar, but she couldn't place him either.

So we racked our brains, maybe he worked at where we worked. Maybe he studied where we studied. Naah. But he looked so familiar. If we didn't say 'Hi', he might probably be offended. Could he be a relative?

And the answer finally struck my friend. He was a newsreader on one of the local channels. Thank heavens she remembered before we went and blabbered at him. I wonder if he ever gets total strangers talking to him familiarly.

The pleasure of being cheap

A neighbour sold me these shoes at Rs 200 a pair. I fell in love with the price.

It seems like a minor achievement to find wearable shoes at these prices when shoes cost Rs 1000 upwards at the Millennium centre. At the workplace, I learnt you can get them for Rs 150 at the market :) But I still think I got them at a bargain. I know they're going to be worn out in a hurry, but they satisfy the thrifty Girl Guide spirit in me.

With everything being so darn expensive in Aizawl, it's fun to buy anything at a bargain. It's as though you were outwitting the enemy. You could get yards of cloth at the secondhand market, get them stitched at a local tailor, and have instant 'designer' clothes, which nobody else will have.

I can never bring myself to buy a blouse at 1800/- which everyone is wearing anyway. You can never have the most expensive shoes, or the most beautiful clothes, someone will beat you to it anyway. It's better (or atleast I think so) to be presentably turned-out and save your money for more concrete things...whatever those are!

Baptised by Holy water

2009-09-27T19:25:00.006+05:30

Ruatfeli, along with 13 other babies, got baptised today. I feel a load off my mind. One, because for Christians, baptism is one of the most important milestones for a person. Two, because the ceremony itself is finally over!

I was a little worried that she would cry or fuss, since she's now 7 months. But Ruatfeli, being Ruatfeli, never made a fuss during the whole service. We had missed two prior baptisms before, once while we were in the hospital, and the other one because everyone forgot to tell us about it (and because we must have slept through the announcements at church). But all's well that ends well!

Youth and Cancer

2009-09-13T10:47:00.005+05:30

When I first read the statistics on cancer in Mizoram, I was a little skeptical. I thought they must be a little skewed. To have the highest number of oral cancer in the world is a dubious honor.

But after working in Aizawl for barely a year, I can see first-hand that we do indeed have tremendous number of cancer cases. Cancer is usually a disease of the old, and not to seem crude, it is less shocking to hear that an elderly person has cancer than a healthy-seeming youth. But the young are not spared this deadly disease.

Cancer of the cervix is usually seen in women above 45 years. But you can hear of 24 year olds dying of this disease. Younger women seem to be more prone to this cancer than the old women here. Promiscuity(with HPV infection), poor personal hygiene and pure bad luck are probably the cause.

Breast cancer is another scary disease. We have seen many cases of unmarried women in their early thirties who had to have their breasts removed due to cancer. I cannot even guess how traumatic it is for a girl to have cancer, and have to remove one breast.

I have a rather gruesome picture of a 27 year old girl with cancer of the rectum. The surgeons had to remove her uterus, cervix and ovaries too, because the tumour was invading into her vagina.

Likewise, we have cases of 20 year old male with Nasopharyngeal carcinoma, a 30 year old male with stomach cancer, a 28 year old with bladder cancer. And so on. The cancers I mentioned are all commoner in the old, unlike Blood cancer (Acute Leukemias), some lymphomas, and some Germ cell tumours of the ovaries/testes, which are more common in the young.

So what can we do? Tobacco seems to be the favourite scapegoat. But there are many who totally abstain, and yet get diagnosed with cancer. So even when you are symptom-free, it's a good idea to have routine check-ups. Do self-breast examination, get your papsmear done, if your female. And for everyone, do an endoscopy if you have chronic gastritis, especially if you're above 40 years.

Sweet child of ours

2009-08-05T17:28:00.003+05:30

My blog is turning out to be a diary of sorts of Ruatfeli. I am otherwise totally uninspired.

She's 5 months now, and she can turn over by herself. She wants to grasp everything, within or out of her reach. And whatever she can grab is instantly subjected to vigorous chewing. She recently learnt how to blow bubbles, and now it's her new passion.

She's changing all the time, this little baby of ours.

Sign of the Times

2009-06-30T14:40:00.002+05:30

Of Babies and bottles

2009-06-19T17:16:00.005+05:30

Being a mother has totally changed me, I can only ever blog about babies now. Ruatfeli turned 4 months today. But as a zealous relative told me, I should minus her premature entry and say she's only 3 months :)

I am supposed to return to work early next month, and I am dreading it! What makes matters scarier is that Ruatfeli doesn't seem to know how to bottle feed. She tries sucking it a few times, then she just bites the teat, and if I am persistent with the bottle, she cries :( She looks at me with wide eyes as though she's asking why the hell are we doing this, and I end up feeling so sorry for her. She obviously has to learn otherwise we are all in a big soup. So, as usual, I turned to the internet for help, and there are lots of mothers with the same problem. I hear terms like nipple confusion and bottle carries and learn much more horrible things that can happen to a wee baby. And it looked so easy when my nieces and nephews were sucking on their bottles! I've tried most of their tips and sadly, not a lot of progress so far. I have got the bottle-blues.

Anyway here are some pictures to brighten up the gloomy post.

She has the mohawk-hair style, and ends up being mistaken for a boy all the time. When the weather is colder, we quickly get out a hat for her. She looks more feminine and it's instant weight gain!

Crabs, anyone?

2009-05-14T17:21:00.004+05:30

Crabs are one of my favourite food. I love their succulence, their taste, their aroma when they are cooked.

But everyone has heard horror stories of how they are caught by unscrupulous means, with poison or chemicals. But if you ask the seller how they were caught, she'd tell you they were caught with bait. So you are never sure unless you buy from someone you know. That's why we eat crabs so rarely, even though we prefer it to other meat.

Last week, the vendor gave me a brilliant sales pitch, telling me how fat her crabs were, how honest the catchers are, and how she eats them herself. After making her almost swear on the Bible, I bought some, overriding my better judgement.

Well, the crabs were not very fat as claimed, and the worst thing was- they had worms! So we threw the lot. And the worms were really hard to discern among the crabs innards.

Why do tiny things like crabs have to have worms? They are a known hazard with pork and other meat, but crabs? Anyway, for the uninitiated, crab worms can cause a disease with the really fancy name of paragonimiasis. It usually affects the lungs, causing fever,cough, blood in sputum, and other tuberculosis and pneumonia-like symptoms, though it may also affect the brain.

But if you cook your crabs well, you probably won't get the disease. That's why paragonimiasis not that common among Mizos, and is seen more in the Chakmas and other tribes who eat crabs raw, or undercooked.

So, love your crabs, but for me, they've rather lost their appeal.

More pictures

2009-05-09T16:26:00.000+05:30

~It's hot.

~A truck put a major dent on our parked car.

~Ruatfeli won't let me sleep nights.

~I am still fat.

So here are some more pictures. They won't make the weather any cooler, the dent won't go away. Ruatfeli probably won't sleep any better, and nothing seems to help me lose weight. But here are some more pictures.Her God-mothers Padma and Monisha sent her a bunch of new clothes and the teddy (named Dolu by Padma). Ruatfeli modelling one of her night-suits.

She's tiny, but she can roll sideways already. And when she's had a good sleep and a full tummy, she brings out her social smile.

Helping her dad out with his work.

She's become chubby now. The before piture was taken when she was still in the hospital. She was a little over 2 kg, now she's a hefty 4.3 kgs :)

To dos

2009-05-04T14:59:00.008+05:30

Since I've become a stay-at-home mom, I thought I should put the free time I have to good use. I just have 3 simple goals.

Lose weight

Study

Learn something new.

Losing weight is not as simple as I thought it would be. I put on quite a lot of weight during my pregnancy, and once the baby was out, the extra weight was much more obvious. I get corny comments all the time, like 'When are you having the baby?' or 'Do you have another one hiding in your tummy?', or 'Now you look like your mom'. Well, hahaha!, but it's funny only the first time round, so I thought I'd better do something about it. And like I said, it's not easy. Since I started staying at home, I mostly spend my day watching TV or surfing the net, and eating, ofcourse. The trouble is I like watching cooking shows, Nigella feasts on travelandliving is a favourite. I sit there gaining weight while she mixes cream and chocolate, and butter and brown sugar and whatnot, and I get crazy ideas in my head and end up baking cakes and roasting things. Arghh.

So I thought I'd try some light stretching exercises. I did a session of lunges once, and when I started to huff and puff, I looked at the clock and only 7 minutes had passed! I called up a cousin and asked (begged) her to lend me her treadmill. She kindly let me borrow it, I climbed on and immediately felt pain in my knees. How fit am I, eh? I talked about my problem to my mom, and she told me to simply go for a walk while the baby sleeps. How simple! So I've gone on walks, exactly 4 times, and combining the walks with the treadmill, I'm starting to feel slightly fitter. I hope I can lose enough weight to get back into my pre-pregnancy jeans. That's all I want.

Studying is not my forte, you'd know if you've read one of my previous post. But like I wrote in JOBS, incase the MPSC decide to employ doctors through exams, I want to be ready for it. That said, it's really, really tough reading text books. One can easily watch TV for hours but reading even a few pages take so much effort. I still want USB ports in my head.

Learning something new, or doing anything new is the only way to grow in life. When one was younger, one has more chances of doing something new. There are more new places to see, more new things to try, but as one ages, you get caught up doing the same thing everyday. I thought of trying my hand at knitting baby booties etc but I would need someone to teach me every step, and both my moms are too busy to do that. Learning to drive is also on the agenda. But the only time H and I got up early, we had visitors. Yesterday, we went out for a drive (risking another run in, as it was sunday), and in the middle of nowhere, he stops the car and tells me to drive. I protested, I was sleep-deprived, hungry, mentally unprepared, we had the baby with us in the car, I've forgotten all about gears and clutches, and to top it, it was raining! But he insisted, and it wasn't that hard at all! But I was rounding a turn and a taxi suddenly loomed. I managed to stop, got out of the car and that was the end of my lesson :). I badly want to learn driving, I've tried several times but failed miserably (worth another post). I don't think I have the heart for it. I will try again though.

Under The Influence

2009-04-24T11:17:00.006+05:30

H and I saved, scraped, and bought ourselves a new car last December (with a little help from a Chennai brother).

People do buy cars everyday of the week, but buying your first car with your hard-earned money is a sweet experience. Because of the traffic and parking problems, we preferred our trusty bike for work and mainly used the car on Sundays and at night. So the car must have clocked a mere 500 kms even after 4 months.

Anywhichway, this post is about the lousy luck we have with the car.

Barely a month into ownership, we took it out on a Sunday night in January to visit family. We were rounding the corner at Sikulpuikawn, towards Khatla, when a white, hardtopped speeding Gypsy, driving on the wrong lane, hit the side of our car. The Gypsy did not stop for a second. I clambered out of the car, pregnant and all, but it was almost out of view already. We couldn't get the license number, and had only a broken part of its muddy bumper, and a nasty dent on our bumper and along the back door. We were advised by the police and other people not to claim insurance so we spent Rs 6,000/- to get it fixed. We could only assume the driver of the gypsy to be a drunk kid driving his dad's jeep. For days, we eyed all white-topped Gypsy's with suspicion, and looked for missing parts of their bumper. But with time, we got over our first mishap.

Last night, we were on our way to meet some people from work, when a Karizma bike came rounding the corner on the wrong lane. .H braked, the bike swerved, but he managed to hit the driver side of the car door. The biker was drunk, head lolling and speech slurring. H got out of the car but he didn't see the dent immediately. The taxi which had stopped behind the bike pointed out the dent on the car door, at which the biker immediately sped off again. You can see the dent for yourself.

We noted down the Licence plate number this time, and we are going to talk to the owner this time. I am sick and tired of being other people's casualty, especially drunk drivers. We didn't get hurt, but most people in road traffic accidents are either victims of drunk drivers, or are drunk themselves. So, overwhelmed by this impotent rage, here I am blogging about it to let off steam.

I had always thought getting a life membership (of Bible Society of India) on cars and other inanimate objects was frivolous and unnecessary. But after so many mishaps (many, considering the number of times the car's been on the road; and unwarranted, because we were never speeding, or on the wrong side), I am considering the idea of getting a life membership for the car. ..atleast The Society will be using the money to spread the Good Word!

Picture post

2009-04-07T18:01:00.008+05:30

This is going to be a jumble of a post.

First, a picture of the newborn star. She looks good even with the tube in her nose.

A more recent picture of her, after gaining around 800gm more. Check out the chubby cheeks.

Last sunday, my cousin brought her daughter, born just 22 days before Ruatfeli. Look at the size difference though. Her head is almost twice the size of Ruatfeli's :( It's a small consolation Ruatfeli was supposed to be born 2 months after her cousin.

A shot of my naughty nephew, Rinzuala.

His older sister, Hruaizeli. She's a really sweet kid, bears her brother's punches silently.. till she loses her temper and just as silently pinches him!

Another naughty nephew, Lawmsanga/Mapuia. This kid is smart as well as sweet.

P.C.Girl's School.... this used to be my playground. I don't know why, of the many schools I went to, this school makes such an impression on my memory. I don't really remember what they taught me academically but I learnt all my cross-stiching, knitting, weaving skills from this school.
You can see they have modernised the main building, it used to be an Assam type when I studied here. I remember standing in lines for Assembly as the teachers checked the length of our nails and our fringe (the eyebrows and earlobes must be visible. Go figure). Then we used to troop inside for a prayer meeting. We used to have missionaries from ramthim as guest speakers. All of us wanted to be missionaries when we grow up. I wonder how many of us actually became one.
The building above remains the same, the tree is also the same. It used to be the classroom for fifth standard kids (the building, not the tree). I remember Pi Saptawni (RIP), the then headmistress, always throwing me out of her scripture classes. I still don't know why, I wasn't that naughty a student!The 'A pawl' and 'B pawl' classes used to be held where this green building once stood. I used to throw a tantrum every morning in 'A pawl'. My mom used to drag me screaming and kicking my legs to school. I had the rather apt nickname of 'tahbelhi' then. Ick!

The heavenly-looking house below is the 'Banglapui' of Synod. I took a picture of it on my morning walk because it looked so idyllic and perfect for morning tea.

Lastly...a picture of my roast chicken. When we moved into our new home, we used to have family and friends over for dinner quite a lot. I was hugely pregnant then and had no maid. So I used to simply roast a chicken for the main dish. The guests used to love it, but I was so sick of it I hardly used to taste it at all.

Told you it was going to be a jumble.

Baby whisperer

2009-04-06T14:34:00.005+05:30

Ruatfeli has been acting up lately.

She sleeps through the whole day, and only wakes up to feed. Even if you shake her, she goes on sleeping. My dad asked me if she ever opens her eyes. But come 11 pm, she's wide awake and starts to take an interest in the world. By the time we lie down to sleep, she starts her whimpers. So I nurse her, she falls asleep. I lay her down on the bed, she blinks twice and let's loose a loud cry. The surprising thing about her is that, for such a tiny body, she has the vocals of a heavymetal singer. No one can ignore that cry. So I pick her up, hold her till she falls asleep, lay her down and the whole scenario replays. By 3 am, nothing is amusing anymore, and when she finally seems to tire of the game, she sleeps, and so do I.

This had been happening for the last three nights, so I was feeling pretty tired. I browsed the internet for information and realised it's a worldwide problem. In Japan, they even have a name for nighttime crying - 'yonaki'. Knowing that Ruatfeli had yonaki didn't really make it better but I did read the tips and suggestions. The best point was ' Your baby is not trying to manipulate you, it has no idea what it's doing to you'. I really was starting to wonder if she was doing it on purpose.

H has somehow been relegated to parent number 2, mainly because, you know, I have the milk supply, and also because H has to go to work while I can stay at home and wake up late. So I try let him sleep through Ruatfeli's performances. He's brilliant with kids, he's a favourite uncle to all nieces and nephews, I just never thought he'd know what to do with a screaming infant.

Well, last night, I was dead tired, it was 2 am, I had tried nursing the baby, tried burping it, checked her nappy, rubbed her tummy, but Ruatfeli continued her orchestra. Finally, H picked her up, and I told him I was going to nap for a minute and immediately dozzed off. The next thing I knew, he was laying her down to sleep. The next morning, I woke up refreshed at 7 am. We had slept through the entire night!! This was incredible because we usually have feeds at 1 or 2 intervals throughout the night. I asked H how he did it, he just shrugged and said nothing much.

Guess who's going to put the baby to sleep tonight? :)

Motherhood

2009-03-23T13:32:00.006+05:30

Me, 2 weeks before motherhood.

It has been a long month, and I can't believe how the days passed. Let me clue you in.

We were expecting our baby to make its entrance around the end of March, but we realised that the baby had its 'cord around the neck', and with reduced fetal movements, the docs decided to do an emergency Caeserian Section on me. So our baby girl was born at 7 months and 3 weeks on 19th February, weighing all of 2.5 kg.

The operation itself was uneventful, I suffered no real pain, during or after the surgery. But our dear little baby had to take on a whole lot of stuff way before it was ready. So, we were hospitalised for almost a month at Civil Hospital, baby getting oxygen on some days, turning a deep yellow on other days and getting phototherapy, developing fever, not gaining weight, etcetera.

Baby was kept in the Neonatal ICU (NICU) where other preterm babies and sick neonates were kept. I have to say this about the NICU of Civil Hospital, things may not be perfect there, but they do things much better than could be expected. For one, the nurses there are terrific. They are efficient, friendly, helpful and they genuinely care. I say this not only because as an employee there, they were super-nice to me, but they are equally helpful and caring to all the other patients.

They have a strict system in the NICU, nurses wear surgical-type uniforms, caps, mask and special slippers. Doctors on rounds wear the masks and slippers too. And we mothers take off our shoes, wear masks, wash hands, and no males or other visitors are allowed inside the NICU. These are all to secure optimal sterility for the babies. And believe me, they're quite strict with their rules!

Nurse tending to one o the pretermees in a warmer.

They have several warmers, which are really bl**dy expensive, with inbuilt heaters, a temperature probe to attach to the baby, automatic temperature regulation, O2 facility, suction, etc etc. Only 3 of the 6 work, but again the nurses improvise by providing hot water bags for the non-working sets.

There are also several phototherapy units, which are the best treatment options for reducing bilirubin levels in babies (high bilirubin=jaundice/yellowing). These phototherapy units have blue lights which convert the non-excretable bilirubin into an excretable form. Our baby's bilirubin level went down from 19 mg% to 6.9% (normal 1.2mg%) in 2 days. But we were the lucky ones, other babies have to be kept for 1-2 weeks sometimes. The unlucky ones have to get their blood replaced to prevent bilirubin from causing brain damage. Babies in phototherapy have to lie naked (except for diapers) inside these units and they have to wear 'sunglasses' to protect their eyes. They look quite funny really, somewhat like little old men sunbathing :)

Baby inside a phototherapy unit. Tube in the nose is for direct nose to stomach feeds.

Our babies were fed at 2 hour intervals, some babies get as much as 50 ml of either expressed breast milk or Dexolac, some get 5 ml. Tiny stomachs, you see. The healthier babies get to breastfeed. Again the nurses boil all the bowls, spoons and measuring units before each feed. And at night, after 12 am, the single nurse on duty let the mothers sleep and feed all the babies for us, which could sometimes be 15 babies. They also change the babies' diapers for us during this time, also throughout much of the day. Despite all these, the nurses remain cheerful and are never rude - they must be angels or atleast semi-angels. The doctors are great too, but we only see them on rounds as they have their OPDs and other work, so we don't really have a chance to build up much of a rapport with them.

Other moms tending to respective babies. We mothers developed a good relationship - advising, consoling, encouraging each other, and laughing uproariously sometimes. Some babies died, but most were discharged healthy.

A big thing for us pretermers is weight. All babies lose weight upto 10 days post delivery, but pretermers tend to lose more, and when your weight is a little over a kilo or less, every gram counts. Every day, before the daily rounds, babies' faces are cleaned, umbilical stumps sterilized and babies weighed. Our fellow inmates included babies born at 6 months, babies weighing 1.3 kg etc. So before each weighing, you can hear mothers encouraging babies, 'Don't do your potty before they weigh you', 'Intisek rawh' etc. Hilarious really, but their potties can weigh a good 20 gm easily. And we mothers all try to feed the baby before they are weighed. The nurses are so strict, babies are weighed naked, even tiny gloves are removed. We weighed a pair of gloves and they were 10 gms, so being strict was rational.

Our baby lost weighed steadily, despite regular breastfeeds, nasal feeds and spoon feeds. She went down to a minimum of 2.045 kg. Thankfully she never went below 2 kg. If the babes had no other medical problems, they could be discharged at 1.8kg, so you can see why 5 grams mattered so much for patients who have been in the hospital for 2 months.

Weight was the least, and the last of our problems. Our baby has respiratory distress at birth and put on oxygen.Meanwhile, I had all tubes and things going inside and outside of me so I was confined to bed for the first two days (sans food too, I must add). On day 3, they removed some of the tubes so I could finally see my baby and breastfeed her. And believe me, seeing your baby for the first time is an unforgettable moment. But when your poor baby has to be given O2, and has all tubes inserted into tiny veins and even her little nostril, life seems black. She gradually improved, and the O2 was removed. She had two other episodes when she needed O2. Looking at her lying in her cot, her monitors giving off loud alarms really scared me. I wondered at these times if she would survive. I wanted to go to sleep, let someone else take care of her till she was alright. I thought about how we give cars or computers or other things for servicing and people took care of them and we took them out when the job was done. I wished something like that could be done with our baby. I was constantly at the point of tears, and everything seemed hopeless and tragic.

After a month stay in the hospital, she finally started to gain weight, sometimes 5 grams, sometimes even 50 grams a day. When she finally regained her birthweight, the doctors deemed her fit to go home. I was happy, but at the same time apprehensive of taking care of her alone. But we've been home more than a week now, and she's fine so far, by God's grace. But I'm wary of taking anything for granted, and I will probably be a neurotic mother, till she is atleast a year old :)

Prepaid mobile services in Mizoram

2009-01-21T09:18:00.004+05:30

With the recent hula-bula created by the MZP about prepaid services in Mizoram and other parts of the north east, let me add my two cents.

When we came back to Aizawl last year, we needed new mobile connections. H went and got a SIM card for both of us. It was done within a day, and he paid some 250 bucks for each. I didn't look that closely at the packet of the SIM card. Some months later, we needed another connection, and this time I went to an Airtel outlet. The lady gave me a SIM card which was again priced at Rs.250. This time I happened to look at the MRP, which was Rs.45. This was more than 5 times the company price. So I asked her why this was so.

The lady explained to me that this card was pre-activated, with someone else's name, that if I wanted a SIM card in my own name, then I would have to go to alot of trouble of submitting a xerox copy of my ID etc. I said I was fine with doing all that, and so to her consternation, I didn't buy her 'ready-made' SIM card.

We went to various outlets, and several places rejected us. We finally found a place in Chanmari where a sweet old couple took our necessary papers and got the SIM ready for us in less than a week.

What I am trying to say is that more than 90% of prepaid cellular subscribers in Mizoram get their SIM card from the 'black' market, using cards issued in God knows whose name. And the worst part is that I'm sure more than 90% of these people are probably unaware that they are paying 5 times the asking price, that they even have an option of getting cards issued in their names, that what they're doing is illegal. The most interesting bit is what part the service providers themselves, AIRTEL, AIRCEL, RELIANCE etc are playing in issueing such large numbers of activated SIM cards into the market. I think this is something the public should be aware of, and what the government should look into. If the authorities from the central government do stop prepaid mobile services in Mizoram, I think we will only have ourselves, our greed and our ignorance to blame.

Chivalry, Manners, etcetera in the local bus

2009-01-08T14:57:00.005+05:30

I once read an article by an Englishman about manners. He said that in England, for most things, people queue-up, and wait patiently for their turn. In India too, he said, people do queue up, and wait for their turns. The difference between the two countries is when some rude person breaks the queue. In India, a righteous person in queue would loudly admonish the line-breaker, and the rude person would hopefully slink back in line without creating further ruckus. In England, if someone breaks the line, the other people would most likely let the rude person be. And if someone would admonish the offender, the rest of the people would most likely feel embarrassed and shuffle their feet.

I don't know if the England example is true, but I know the Indian story is. Since I've started working, I take the local bus quite regularly as taxi fares are exhorbitant in Aizawl. The buses here are tiny, barely seating 10 to 15 people. And since all buses are private owned, the enterprising bus conductors stuff people like sardines in tin cans. So obviously, there are always people standing throughout the ride.

In other parts of India, the buses have seats allocated for women-folk. Men can sit on these seats as long as all women in the bus have seats. However, a lady without a seat can always ask a guy sitting in the women's row to get up. Besides this concession, hardly anyone ever gets up to offer their seats, whether it is for the old, the infirm or the fairer sex. And we Mizos would wistfully remember how back home, no senior citizen would stand while there were young men sitting.

Things have changed back home. You see school kids, young abled men and ladies sitting while old men with gray hair stand, hanging on to the railings with their gnarled hands. I know everyone pays for their bus ride, whether they get a seat or whether they are standing. And it's their prerogative if they want to give up their seats. But it used to be a wonderful example of our Mizo chivalry to see younger people showing their consideration for the older generation. As a pregnant commuter, I do get offered seats sometimes, and I have to add that it's mostly by other women. It's true, chivalry is quite dead, and especially among our men-folk. And we shouldn't really complain, because like the English, we probably should just let the unmannered be .

Pictures

2008-12-27T14:00:00.011+05:30

Here are some pictures taken in Manali earlier this year. I never got around to posting any of them, I thought I should put them up before the year ends.

Manali is a beautiful place, one which I wouldn't mind visiting again. Located in Himachal Pradesh, it took us around 16 hours from Delhi by bus. The route took a scenic turn once we neared Manali. I couldn't go back to sleep and started taking pictures from the bus, they turned out pretty decent.

We wanted to be a little adventurous, and we tried paragliding. They have a valley for it, I've forgotten what it was called. It had a beautiful backdrop of the Himalaya though. Paragliding was a heady experience. I have a fear of heights; and once I was up in the air, I really, really regretted trying something which involved being several hundred feet above the ground. And the close up pictures of me showed how scared I was, so I am not putting those up. H seemed to enjoy his ride though.

We also visited Zero point, which is at the foot of Rohtang Pass, they hadn't opened the pass yet even though it was May, because of heavy snowfall. It was my first time seeing snow, and it was yet another nice experience.

This pic was taken in one of their many parks. Aizawl should have just one of their parks.

Taken on the bus trip back to Delhi. The river Beas. People go white rafting here, they camp along the river bank, eat grilled meat etc and have loads of fun. But we didn't really have that much time or the inclination, so we missed that oportunity.

And here is our home, sweet home. The sitting room is obviously the most decorated room in the house.

Well, I hope everyone had a wonderful Christmas, and I wish everyone a Happy New Year.

New stuff

2008-12-03T09:05:00.003+05:30

I cast my vote for the first time yesterday. It wasn't really an epiphanic moment, but it felt good to think I had some role in the making of a government, and I came away with ugly blue marks on two fingernails.

Besides that piece of news, H and I moved into a 'new' house last week. It's a lot of fun, cooking, and cleaning, making up recipes and feeding them to a non-commentative husband. I will one day post pictures of the house, when we have an internet connection at home, after we have a phone connection, that is.

My waistline is also rapidly increasing, which I know is not of national interest, but which I am still talking about nonetheless. Mainly because this is my blog, and I can bore people with personal things :). Back to the waistline, it's huge because H and I are expecting. And I am so far lucky because I was never plaqued by the nausea and morning sickness that to most ladies. Instead, I eat like a certain species of the animal world, and my only worry is I shall remain forever fat, my bottoms forever resembling my mother's backside. But God has been so good, and if we are blessed with a healthy baby, then I guess I can live with a little extra fat.

JOBS

2008-10-09T18:09:00.003+05:30

It's raining jobs in Mizoram. One might say it's the election windfall. Anywhichway, this is when your political prowess and your knowledge comes in. Not your knowledge of your subject, but WHO you know.

Recently, the government took 66 contract doctors as Medical Officers through 3f. Now 3F was a new word for most of us. It is actually a regulation by which the govt, citing the people's welfare, can give jobs while bypassing the MPSC, so that nobody has to write boring exams or go through sweaty interviews. These 66 people's only reason for being given jobs was that they were contract doctors, no matter if you were not a contract doctor because you were slogging away preparing for a PG degree, or for an entrance exam, or working as a missionary in Timbuktu. They were simply picked up on the basis of how long they worked as contract doctors. These officers are then officially on the MPSC panel list and will be almost 100% guaranteed permanent jobs. When the list did come out, it was based on their seniority, but their place of posting, ofcourse depended again, on who they knew.

Now I know I bored everyone with my sad tale of how I hate exams and all, but since everybody who was not a contract doctor was denied the chance of EVER being on the 3F list, it kind of irked me. I craved to give exams, to be given atleast a chance. I remember how my friends from Sikkim, Meghalaya etc all rushed home from Delhi to give exams, interviews, whenever a handful of government jobs were being given in their states. I was kind of hoping for the same thing, that postgraduation degrees would count, etc. But here in Mizoram, when 66 jobs were being handed out, even people in Aizawl were exempted, forget the Mizo docs in other parts of India and the world.

Anyhow, after that, relatives ran helter skelter, trying to put a good word for me here and there. My dad, for one, is a staunch disapprover of favours, but I've come to finally realise that in this world, atleast in Mizoram, it's not what you know, but who you know. It's just sad that all of us have to conform to the unwritten rule in the end :( I'm just hoping the MPSC is made of members of Iron and steel etc, and that they'll demand exams, otherwise, it's goombye to a permanent job for me, and many others.

Aizawl

2008-09-15T15:13:00.000+05:30

We've been in Izol since may and i cant say i miss Delhi. Except when i go to the markets, everythng is overpricd here, including veggies. If nt 4 the secondhand marts i 4 one wud have no new clothes. Anyhow i pasd that terible xam i lamentd abt n startd workin here. The medical world in Izol is one big biznes. But the public doesnt seem 2 mind,so why shud we? Besides dis little rants, i hav gaind a lot of weight,only aces the net by gprs,hence d short forms, & totaly enjoyin life n expectin better things!

Ho hum

2008-03-09T14:19:00.011+05:30

Studying for exams makes me sick. On particularly bad days, I abhor and detest it, while on better days, it simply bores me. I could be allergic to it, I don't know if there are confirmatory tests, but I do know my mind breaks out in hives when I have to study for exams.

People sit in the library, their fertile minds probably absorbing information like a sponge, while I am dreaming of ways to copy-paste the same thing on my brain, or wondering why God did not make me with an usb port in my skull. I admit it, I am tired of studying. Cramming frivolous details like molecular basis of an obscure disease has done something to the circuits in my head. Like a cousin puts it, 'She's bonkers, almost 30, and she still studies...even in the daytime!'. If I pass this exam, the only exam I am ever going to appear for is Sunday School exam....which I can gloriously flunk, and nobody be the wiser. And there are no practicals and viva voce!

Studying is such a passive-active job. The body has to be passive and the mind active. But my body I fear, is wired in the opposite direction. Sitting still was never my strong point. As I child, I never earned the tenner I was promised to sit still for five minutes, why change now?

Anyway, not to paint a totally hopeless picture, I do drag my butt to the library everyday to study. It is the best place for people like me, who find scrubbing the floor, washing clean clothes, reading the classifieds, the business news, all utterly fascinating than to sit and study. So, I go there, pick a seat next to a harmless looking nerd, who eventually takes off his shoes and blasts me with a 2000 kilowatt of smelly feet. It makes me wonder if all that studying has totally fried his sense of smell while I try not to gag.

Then there are the 'chips crunchers'. Every once in a while, you get to sit next to a person who loudly opens a packet of chips and inundate your senses with spices. All you can do is wait while they loudly eat their chips. 'Crunch, crunch, krrunchhh'. It kills me. Go outside and crackle, okay? I once sat next to this sadistic senior. She opened a packet of Kurkure, ate every piece very slowly and when she finally finished them, she started picking up the masala with her fingers. But that's not all, she folded the packet into tiny little squares, all the while with this funny smile on her face. A b*#@h of the higher pedigree I guess. If I wasn't a typical docile Khiangte, she'd get it on the nose.

But the best ones are the snorers. They put aside their books for a break, put their heads down on the table, and before you know it, they snore! Loudly and gloriously, their nasal appertures and throat acting in perfect harmony to give you a nice preview of what they do in their beds. Everyone starts giggling till a brave soul goes and wakes them up. It provides a wonderful break I think, maybe we could all take turns snoring and cheering people up. I wish we'd get one who sleep-talks once in a while. But that's probably wishing for the moon. Also kudos to other break-givers, like the ones who forget to mute their cellphones, especially the ones with a particularly raucous ringtone.

H has given me the dubious honour of being 'The laziest person I have ever known in my 30+ years'. I accept the title with heartfelt thanks to my family, who did everything they could to make me study, including corporal punishment. I couldn't have done this without you.

(PS: Why isn't Blogger putting spaces between my paragraphs? Editting this blog for the upteenth time, I admit defeat and gladly will look like a paragraph-phobic blogger. I have increased the font size though, which doesn't help much. Anyone knows what to do about this problem?)

It's Christmas!

2007-12-22T23:26:00.000+05:30

It's Christmas, and it seems almost sacrilegious to talk about anything else except Christmas. But this year, it's just me and H, in our tiny, albeit cosy hostel room. We have two Christmas cards between us, and the room is so far devoid of any decorations. H thinks it's folly to buy more stuff when we already have so much to take home next year. And I suppose he's right.

Everywhere you go in Delhi, it's Christmas big time. The newspapers are full of it, recipes for cakes and goodies, what gifts to buy, etcetera. In the markets, it's the same. Shops are decorated in red, white, greens; even petrol station attendants are wearing Santa suits. The non-Christians overwhelm us with their fervour for the Christmas season. I guess everyone is cashing in on Christmas.

So as it is every year, and as it will probably be every coming year, we have to yet again make a conscious effort to remember what Christmas is about. It's easy to get caught up in the lights and the Christmas sales, the cakes and the glitter and the songs, but all Christmas signifies is the birth of Jesus after all. I'm a fine one to talk, but here's a poem from Gerrard Kelly...

The gift
We were so glad to welcome him
On Christmas day;
It was like having a new member
Of the family.
He looked so small and helpless,
It made you want to pick him up
And cuddle him.
We made promises, ofcourse,
Said we'd make room for him in our house,
Said we'd alter our routines
To fit him in,
Said we'd take a walk with him
Each day.

But the novelty
Soon began to wear off.
By New Year,
We mentioned him less often.
Daily chores were less of a thrill,
More of a reluctant duty.
By February he was unwanted.
By March we had abandoned him.

We should have read the warnings,
We should have counted the cost.
A God is for life,
Not just for Christmas.

Oh well, Merry Christmas and Happy New Year, everyone!!

Christmas past

2007-12-22T13:56:00.001+05:30

Christmas had flavour then, it had an aroma, a magical essence of festivity. It had something to do with the smell of baking cakes in mom's rusted oven. The ornaments were simple, ribbons of coloured paper strung along the ceiling, a few clusters of balloons at strategic corners. My mother's fir tree in an old tin pot stood in the corner, brightly done up with gold and silver strings, a big star ceremoniously stuck at the top of the tree. Christmas cards arrived daily, from relatives and friends and well-wishers. My brother and I would collect the ones bearing our names, a childish competition to see who receives more.

I was, as a child, even more gullible, lead hither thither by an elder brother. I believed fervently in Santa Claus, but my brother put an end to that. 'There is no Santa Claus, it's only mom and dad pretending' . And before I could recover, 'Let's look for the gifts while they are gone'. And so my innocence ended at the tender age of 5 years. I learnt to deceive too. 'Look, mother! Santa got me exactly what I wanted'.

I did not know those Christmases represented phases of my life. Because every year, there were changes. Some were subtle, some struck closer to home. You could tell from the decorations how progress was happening. Cards are passe, real trees replaced by bigger, greener plastics. You could see how dear ones slowly disappeared from Christmases, some died of diseases, some in accidents. I remember a new year's eve spent mourning an uncle. The elders cried, we children huddled together, uncertain what to do when New Year arrived.

Every year, a little more numb,a little more pain, a little more smarter, a little more cynical, a little more adult. I mourn the death of childhood, the glee of being alive. Our worries were so small then, and our joys were so simple. Everyday was an occasion, Christmas and New Year were only the icing on the cake.

(Lungleng thut, inspired by Caliopia's post).

When words fail

2007-11-05T17:46:00.001+05:30

A slighlty overstated title. Just a few pics to keep the old blog running:)

It was our institute's golden anniversary recently, so our campus got a major makeover, including putting up an Amul kiosk, complete with swings and garden chairs.

The already existing Nescafe too got a facelift, with a pretty red roof. Just a tiny picture, it's too blurry to be any bigger.

And I went for a seminar in Ludhiana, Christian Medical College last month. The Christian-ness of the college was always vividly palpable, the conference being started with a benediction and a choir. They had a bookshop on campus, I got a Bible as a souvenir. Overall, the college seemed to be well-run, no frantic patients etc. But I could be biased too :p Anyhow the place looked mighty clean.

At dinner, some undergrads entertained us with songs and dances. This pic was for the guy in yellow satin lungi (lungi not v visible tho).

Lastly, a pic of a humungous mutton leg. We had dinner at Karim's near Jamma Masjid. The area left a lot to desire, but the restaurant is top rated in Delhi. But Too much meat will kill you, me thinks.

It's time

2007-10-16T21:43:00.000+05:30

It's time..

To take out the blankets, to dryclean the unworthy, to snuggle with the clean. It's time to bugger the caretaker, 'Fix the old geyser, or else........' Or else I shall suffer a minor a heart attack, when the cold jets of water fall, or else, I shall simply stop having my baths. The latter is easier, but my colleagues may have something to say.

It's time to restock on body lotions. 'Body cocoon' sounds so inviting, tho I'd never buy it in summer. It's time to hybernate, atleast till 9 in the morning. It's okay to say you're down with the flu, because it's that time of year again. It's time to snuggle, switch off the alarm. Because this year, you're not flying home, come rain or shine, on rickety planes nor on reindeer sleighs.

This year, you're stuck here, with the cold, with your books, with your frowning turbanated gods. This year is the last year, this time, it's going to be a blue, blue christmas.

And it's time to close the old blogger, because I never had that much to say, and it was anyway mostly just a lot of yarn. And I need the yarn for a nice old sweater. It's time I hit the books, because, time, my friend, is ticking away.

(pic from landscapedpic.com)

Happy Birthday to H !!!

2007-10-16T21:30:00.001+05:30

October 16th, Happy birthday, dear H!!

Music

2007-10-14T22:40:00.000+05:30

My single female friend was telling me about her romantic escapades, and she said,'...we even have the same taste in music'.

That made me think of two things. One is how mature and practical I imagine myself all of a sudden. I used to like guys with the same music taste as mine, in fact, it was almost a vital criteria. But if we're talking of ingredients for a good match, similar music taste probably would not be in the top three. Although totally opposite music preferences could probably play havoc in married life too; a constant barrage of rap music would possibly turn me into a knife-wielding lunatic. The same friend and I had once made a list of all the things we would like in a guy, and I remember some of the things I wrote:

same taste in music.
must be a smoker.
preferably have long hair.
can watch endless movies.
should hate cricket.

....and more juvenile things. The list now reads more like a guy I would avoid at all cost, except for the movies part of it. hehe. More important are trust, respect, similar ideals and principles, and the really, really liking each other aspect of it that can make you bear each other for long.

Another thought was, what has happened to my music taste? I remember when I was into Alanis Morissette, Oasis, the Cranberries, the Beatles, Cake, Travis, Fiona Apple and the like and I kind of 'adopted' them and even felt sort of possessive about them. Now I listen mainly to country music, Tracy Chapman and other mellow songs. I am totally unaware of new hits, and I'm quite happy without them. Someone once lambasted me for liking country music. He said people who like country music are all complacent dolts. He could be right, but what's wrong with being a dolt if you are complacent about it ? :)

@#$# !! Monkey

2007-10-02T11:34:00.000+05:30

October 2nd, Gandhiji's birthday, and H and I were enjoying a sleep-in, alarm being subjected to multiple snoozes. There was a loud noise from the balcony, I thought it was our neighbour dropping something. But then it happened again and it sounded suspiciously like it was coming from our balcony. My first thought was that it would be a monkey, having had one creep into my room before.

I opened the door a fraction, and there it was, perched on top of the AC. I quickly closed it again and banged on the door and window. But I could still hear it moving about :( I woke up H, he went to the loo, grabbed a stick, and the monkey was gone (before H could wield the stick, ofcourse).

We use the balcony as a kitchen and so there were raw potatoes and onions scattered around and bitten into. It must not have liked the taste much because it spat out everything, but it tried quite a number of them. It had tried opening the jars too, but he gets zero for dexterity. We already had a net in place covering the whole of the balcony, but the furry thing had managed to creep in from the top. I have a feeling it'll be back:(

I hate monkeys. I dislike them because of a number of reasons.

They are just so smart and human-like. In my previous hostel, the monkeys used to knock on closed doors, and get inside as soon as the door is opened. They know how to open jars, they even take tablets out of blister packets and eat them. God knows why.
They can tell the difference between male and female humans. When I tried to shoo away one, it actually charged towards me, making me run faster than fast. There were recent reports in the news about how monkeys specifically bother female workers in the fields. Chauvinistic little things.
They are just not cute and cuddly like the rest of the small animals, like dogs, or cats.
They don't seem to know when they're not wanted. I wonder if they ever go bother Maneka Gandhi.
They have really sharp teeth. They can harbour rabies, simian virus 40. But mostly, they have sharp teeth.

According to my friend, there is a monkey in Sikkim who hitches rides on jeeps and buys food with money. It does not know the denomination of the money but it shoves the money towards the shopkeeper and takes what it likes in return. I don't know how much truth is in the story, my friend likes to tell me stories sometimes :P

Complaints of monkey menace are usually dealt with in a nonsensical way. The authorities either ignore the complaints, or they station a langoor (pic) where monkeys abound. But when they go all out and catch them, they stuff them in cages and maltreat them, so that the animal activists are up in arms breathing fire and venom. We can't seem to win.

Change

2007-09-27T17:22:00.000+05:30

Nothing is carved in stone. Even if it was, there is no guarantee that something stronger than stone would not break it. The Iron Curtain crumbled, Myanmar may yet be free.

But when it comes to little things, for people like me, who take comfort in the familiar, changes are always regarded with a certain dread. I prefer the tried and tested restaurants, the old familiar songs, the company of old friends, the same flow-chart to life’s tests, and I like the well-trodden roads. I like the certainty of knowing what I can and cannot do, and to a certain extent, I appreciate the restrictions that society puts on us, so that we cannot do everything that we want to do. This could sound extremely restrictive and could very well be the antithesis to progress. But in things that don’t have serious repercussions, I like being stuck in my well-loved rut. Listen to Keane’s ‘Everbody’s changing’.

You say you wander your own land
But when I think about it
I don't see how you can

You're aching, you're breaking
And I can see the pain in your eyes
It's as (if) everybody's changing
And I don't know why.

So little time
Try to understand that
I'mTrying to make a move just to stay in the game
I try to stay awake and remember my name
But everybody's changing
And I don't feel the same.

You're gone from here
Soon you will disappear
Fading into beautiful light
'cause everybody's changing
And I don't feel right.
Everybody's changing, And I don't feel the same……

Postscript: I wrote the post trying to focus on the changes in language, the use of short forms, the vowel-less words, the now-validated obsolence of the hyphen, even some Mizos wanting to replace 'T' with 'Tr' etc(My dad should have taught me how to type it). I wanted to protest about it, but I sounded so feeble, and I got distrated by Keane's song, so none of the original thoughts went into the post. Just so you know :)

Gerard Kelly- poet

2007-09-22T23:03:00.000+05:30

I know very little of his work.. I just read one book of his "Rebel without Applause", but I thought he was rather fantastic.Here's one of his:

Cocktail Conversation

If I pretend

That you're noble,

Will you agree

That I am kind?

If I act as if

I'm talking about you

But talk about me,

Would you mind?

If I take up your bait

About a fascinating job

And don't challenge what you do,

Will you fall for my line

About noisy colored neighbours

And say

That you'd have moved too?

Will you confirm

All my convictions

If I don't notice

Your assumptions are absurd?

If so

We can talk like this for hours

Without meaning

A single word.

Right now...

2007-09-15T00:19:00.000+05:30

Right now...

I'd like to be a silent spectator, watching old men enjoing each other's company. Maybe something like this.I'd love to have a cup of great coffee, made with real coffee beans and everything.

It would be lovely to re-read a favourite book.

Definely not doing this....
Because I am not doing this!!

(Pics stolen from all over the net. Don't sue me, I'm stressed)

Latest craving

2007-09-03T16:38:00.000+05:30

I am an unlikely gadget freak. I love obssessing about a particular gadget, read endless reviews and finally buy something I think is best. After all the research though, I don't always make the best choices. For example the Olympus Fe 190 I bought was just mindbogglingly disappointing. The 6 mp camera had a lousy lens, is all I can say.

Z550i was so-so. I was bemused with clam shell phones at that particular phase. Some beautiful actress in some movie could have flipped her phone and made a lasting impression on my feeble brain, maybe. I 'lost' that phone when I went home last, supposedly at Lengpui airport. I thought it was a particularly pushy fellow traveller who was the culprit, against whom I bore a silent grudge all these months. Only to be informed recently by my wonderful brother-in-law that he found the phone in the back of their car. (They're wondering how the phone got to be in the back seat, when H and I obviously sat in the front seats. I blame gravity, traffic movements, but it's not whatever else it is they are thinking. hahaha). The phone had a terrible 1.3mp camera anyway. My mom or someone else will probably end up using it.

To get back to the original train of thought, after the last two months of using my old trusty Nokia 1600 (great battery life, supports nothing, not even a torchlight), I've been looking at the k550i. Its camera is probably not as good as k750, its keypad supposedly sucks, some people positively hate it. But there are reviewers who are all praises (you get all kinds). I am just not inclined towards nokia, samsung or motorola. If anyone reads my posts, and if anyone has any idea about k550, or if there's a better phone with better camera at the same price range, please let me know. Am planning to buy a phone before the month is out. Thank you!

(Update: Without much input from anybody, I bought the phone 2 days back. It seems to be a good buy. )

2007-09-01T09:44:00.000+05:30

I am one of a million people who acutely dislikes being woken up. I can't help it, it's probably in my genes, encoded in the short arm of some obscure chromosome. So I was on 24 hrs duty yesterday, and one thing leading to another, I managed to fall asleep at 2.30 am. 15 mins later, there was a very confident, loud knocking on my door. I opened the door and there was this brain-deficient security guard asking me if I sleep in room no 8. Brain-deficient I say because Room no 8 has '8' painted on its door, and I sleep across from it in an unmarked door. I told him 'No' in my very elegant Hindi and crawled back to bed. That's when tragedy struck, I couldn't sleep till 4, only to be woken by my mom on the phone at 6. * Sigh *

But I am post duty today so I shall be sleeping the day away, except to cook. Because my cousin arrived yesterday, laden with goodies like mai an, behlawi, bekang ro, tumbu pickle and even the dried version of them. So I shall make use of my cullinary skills and make mai an bai. It will be quite an occasion because, for the last 2 months, I have been feeding my husband nothing but fried potatoes, dal and a stew of cabbage, eggplant and beans. H has been stalwart and stoical and has not complained even once ( I don't take his suggestions of dining out as complaints). I think he really deserves the change, I think I may even add a dash of butter for good measure :)

Talking of cooking, I have been cooking for the last 3 months or so on a regular basis (alternative days I suppose), and I have burnt food only twice. That works out to be approximately 4% of total cooking episodes. I say the statistics are very encouraging. I will try my best to remember to simmer.

Wedded Bliss

2007-08-24T11:31:00.001+05:30

I used to think I might never get married, living forever with your parents and being a bossy aunt to nieces and nephews is not a bad option. But tying the knot with someone you can't live without is the better option :)

Niece and nephew on the wedding day.

H and I?

Cars et al

2007-08-22T23:34:00.000+05:30

Have you ever noticed how many people have 'Ram', 'Om' and the like written on their car windows? Or whenever they get a new vehicle they do 'pujas' and they have that ribbony thing on their car hood for a few months?

I just wondered, we Mizos are supposedly very strong about our religion, but how many of us in Mizoram have 'Jesus' or 'Isua' etc written on our cars? How many of us hand over our cars, houses and other possessions to God even by a small prayer? Many Christians here in Delhi (and other places) have 'Jesus saves' or some such pasted on their cars. I know it's probably not a very important issue, but it's just a thought, are our material possessions kept separately from our spiritual side? Maybe we are just not too showy about how we feel, maybe it's not a very cool thing to do, maybe we don't think it's all that necessary. But for some reason, it feels kind of nice when I see Jesus' name anywhere, even on the back of a car. It's just a thought :)

Transformers

2007-08-22T23:11:00.000+05:30

Pic www.movieweb.com

Just got back from a movie with H. Read the rave reviews of 'Transformers', and since H is a big fan of action movies, we decided to watch it. Definely worth the 2 and a half hours spent. It's amazing what Hollywood churns out, it must be all computer graphics and stuff I suppose, but it's pretty mindboggling what they can do with it.

Came out of the movie hall at 10 pm and all the cars outside with their blinking red lights looked pretty robotic to me. Hell, even the autorickshaw we came home in felt like it was going to turn into an autobot. That's how inspired I am. The movie really tickled my fancy.

It started out very well, but the second half turned into too much of a mob fight for my liking. The movie has got it all, humour, a little bit of romance, fast cars, everything except horror and tragedy. The heroine was hot (forgot her name), the hero was suitably bit of a nerd, just not unattractive to be unworthy of his part. Anyhow, the movie's definetely worth a watch.

And the pic of Megatron (I think?) goes very well with the pic of the wedding cake :)

Dear Diary

2007-08-20T17:09:00.000+05:30

Dear diary, what is wrong with me?
Cause I'm fine between the lines.
Be not afraid, help is on its way
A sentence suspended in air way over there
Dear diary, what else could it be?
As nightshade descends like a veil under the sail of my heart
Be still don't stop until the end.

Melancholy lines of Travis, sung in their beautiful melancholy way. I like the way the sentences are written, in a vague helpless kind of way. Not their most memorable song but I loved it nonetheless.

I used to keep diaries before, frantically noting down stupid emotions on handmade papers :) It was kind of nice to exaggerate feelings and events in your own personal novel. Even if not much ever happens, it makes for a good reading later on. I remember in school though, I had to pay my brother everyday to keep my secrets. Those little heartshaped locks did not offer much protection against naughty little boys.

I loved reading as a kid, and I was quite delusional for a while that I could be a writer too. (I was also once delusional that I could sing, but my dad rid me of the notion before I tried it in public). Even after being told quite clearly by two palm readers that I don't have an artistic bone in my body, I continued to churn out so called poems, they mostly had no rhyme or reason. Thank God I grew out of it.

Anyway, after undergraduate days, with all the shifting around, it became kind of difficult deciding which diaries to throw and which ones to keep. And getting rid of a diary meant shredding whole lots of pages manually, and disposing of the bits in godforsaken places. On retrospect, I think I stopped keeping diaries when things actually started happening. When my life was oh-so-boring, I guess I compensated by making my diaries more interesting. But diaries are still a girl's best friend, where you can write about your deepest feelings and thoughts, because thoughts are fleeting sometimes and you forget, and the moment is forever lost.

Escape

2007-04-27T00:59:00.000+05:30

I wish I didn't need to have a blog. But I suppose it can't be helped :P