Giving birth is easy, I learnt

“Relax,” said the surgeon, as my wet palms grabbed his wrist the fourth time.

I idled. Half-lying, half-sitting, gaping at the roof attempting to pray for it to be all over without my knowledge and all the same petrified I would pass out, so much so I mumbled: “How long will this take.”

“Few minutes more.” He waited for me to chill as I counted deep breaths, when I heard. “What you are feeling is pressure. Not pain. Relax. We are almost there…”

The last time I laid helplessly listening to these words was in the delivery room. But then, I vividly remember the feeling was pressure and that pressure was pain.

“Let loose”, he said, pulling my cheek apart as if gutting a fish and I felt the hammer come down on my wisdom tooth. I shut my eyes tight, fooling my hyper-working brain that if I don’t see the armoury over my head, it would not hurt. But my hands once again attacked him. 

He stopped for the third break in the 15-min procedure, trying to pacify me. “You are numb. I cut your jaw bone. Did you feel?” I grunted. I drilled around. Did you even know?” I grunted again. “It’s not pain. It’s just a sensation you are feeling. Nothing to fear. All I need to do is extract it out. The major part is over…”

Two days after the procedure...a 'swollen' selfie

Yeah, I thought to myself. The major part was, indeed, over. It had all begun the previous day, with a casual visit to our dentist to clean my teeth, when I mentioned that one of my wisdom teeth acts up once a while. After examination, he revealed that half of that tooth is still embedded inside and has no space to pop out. “It's better to remove it.”

And before I knew, a wire with a black square peg went on rampage inside my mouth clicking X-Ray. “Let the tongue loose. I need to place this beside the tooth", the dentist said, thrusting the peg almost into the epiglottis and I wrenched. “Don’t do that, you’ll hurt yourself,” he cautioned.  

"Let me place it," I volunteered. Graciously he agreed and waited patiently checking the monitor screen. “No. I need your tooth,” he said, pulling at my cheek, maneuvering the wire back and pushing it deep within…all at once and I jumped up. "Please! I’m petrified of puking." He smiled, "okay, we'll make do with this." 

What a gem of a dentist! 

"So, we'll fix it tomorrow. How about 2pm?"

"Fine by me."

"Good.  I'll pass on the X-Ray to the surgeon..."

"Surgeon!!!"

“This is not a normal procedure. Your jaw bone needs to be operated upon to extract the tooth…” 

What did I get myself into! 

“Now I felt my alive cheek being slapped. Relax,” I heard the surgeon say the nth time, when my gem-of-a-dentist said, “Maybe she’s in pain, it’s not numb...”

“No way. I’ve injected the [some name I can’t remember now] nerve. This is phobia, doctor…” Then he turned to me, “the only other option is to give you general anesthesia. But why go for such a step, when we have come this far. It’s almost over.”

I gripped the armrest with both hands and squeezed my eyelids tighter, as I felt the jaw almost rip apart from my face. Tapping me again, he stopped: “Open your eyes. Now I'm going to try moving the tooth. You'll feel the pressure. Okay. It's just pressure.” I took a deep breath. "Relax. Keep your eyes open. Just a couple of minutes more."

Was he afraid I'll pass out?

Forced to keep my eyes open, I saw a heavy-looking tool go inside my mouth and I tensed. "Relax" he said and I decided to look elsewhere. That's when for the first time that noon I looked at him.

Damn it! Thick shapely brows, unusual for a man, set on light skin above dark eyes shaded inside long lashes…His gelled hair gleaming under the surgical light, with two thick strands hopping over to the side brushing his broad clear forehead made me trace his chiselled nose from under the mask. His fingers were long within the off-white glove going to and fro from inside my mouth to the assistant to his right. The coffee-brown button on the carelessly-rolled-up white linen sleeves, made me squint down to check and lo! he was in denims!

“It’s over!” he said, dropping the mask down on his neck. 

"Really?"  Tall men in white-denim combination have always distracted me.

"Yes ma'am" 

Me, ma’am!! Why… 

“I’ll prescribe a painkiller. Don’t worry, You’ll be fine.” 

Uh! Fine!! That night, I tossed in bed popping painkillers. I was on baby food for the next few days. A month later, I’m still cautious on using my right molars… And I thought giving birth was the most traumatic experience.

However, am yet to figure out the consequences of the two experiences… The other day my baby said, “You know what mamma, now you should stop advising me because your average wisdom is less than mine!”

Shamelessly I requested invited guests...

This weekend I slept with my feet wrapped in hot water bags, thanks to my lineage I am conscious about.

On Friday, I stood for over 7 hours in the kitchen, followed by entertaining guests. But before cracking down, I did stand upright for the record.

After a tiring yet exciting day... one for the album 

"Do you really want to do this?" asked my girl when I requested her to click our pic. 

"It's not everyday I drape a saree and your papa a mundu. Come on, quick." 

"Honestly, mamma. You are so obsessed with yourself," she replied adjusting the lens.

We had our Onam celebration and I was determined to have the banana leaf filled from tip to edge. Managed to layout 18 items for each of the 13 invited guests. Now, that's not a big deal as Onasadhya means the more the merrier.

The problem was that I was on my feet, paranoid, cooking second round of most of the dishes afraid it would not suffice. Pots of rice were boiling even when the guests were at the dining table, which will now last me the whole week after distributing it to my houseboy, car cleaner and watchman.

After cooking, re-cooking, topping up... finally

“Why don’t you sit with the stuff at the building entrance and give it all those who walk in," quipped my in-house grandma, before threatening me, “Don’t give this when I return from school on Sunday. One more day I’ll manage.”

"Well, my dear. I have no intention of dumping these. Why do you think I packed food for the guests when they left..."

"Oh my God, exactly. That was so shameless, honestly mamma... 'take whatever you like'..." she mimicked me.

I blame this paranoia to serve on my genes. My mom’s family are generous servers. You can gather your entire neighbourhood [no exaggeration] and visit any of my maternal aunts unannounced and you will be sumptuously served. In fact, force-fed. For them feeding guests is the way to peoples' hearts. And my mom’s always fed the best to guests, while my brother and I only got the left-overs.

My dad’s family, on the other hand, are stingy givers. My paternal aunts reserved the best for their families and offered the remaining to guests. One day, I saw one of my aunts place a banana bunch comprising over 20 bananas on the table before three guests. “Please take. It’s from our farm.” Neither of them took any. What a trick!

On another occasion, another aunt of mine fed just fish gravy and yoghurt to two guests who had arrived uninvited during lunch hour, saying, “How sad. We just finished lunch and no fish these days. Please manage with this.” One of these guests returned to collect something that she had left behind only to find the family having a lavish lunch, including two varieties of fish!

An acquaintance of mine waits until we take leave and at the door says, "you should have waited for dinner". This has been her staple statement every time I visit. I guess, the fault is mine. Next time I’ll drop in during the day.

I caught another one serve three dates on a plate before a group of five guests, saying "please help yourself". When I gave her the head count, she replied, “others are diabetic”.

I love tracing problems to their roots. So, while my lack of confidence in cooking and kitchen judgement may have resulted in my sore feet, upon peeling the layers I discovered that I'm overtly jittery when it comes to serving guests, only because am petrified lest my lineage force-feeds confused genes into me!

Seriously, am not cooking this up… I was wide wake on Friday night, despite retiring to bed early, wondering how I can make space in the fridge!

Keep your undies on, I was told and I...

This morning while I was busy lazying in the varenda enjoying the rain, my mom hurriedly came and sat beside me. “What is that book Appu is reading. Have you seen her, she talks to herself, laughs loudly and sits thinking and smiling to herself. Go look. She’s still in bed, not brushed as yet, not had her milk, she’s talking to her book.”

Standing by the door, I saw my girl fall over the pillow and laugh. Shaking her head and exclaiming “Oh! my Goodness!” Catching me notice her, she sat up and said, “Can you believe this Mamma, Thomas is asking Brenda to keep her undies on!”

It was a glue-in-my-throat moment. Utterly confused, I blurted, “Who’s that naughty character in there?”

“Oh Mamma, you are so funny,” she replied as she got up to give me her customary hug before heading to the washroom with her toothbrush.

“She’s gone to brush? At last. What craze is this?” My mother walked in pouring fuel to the blaze inside me.

I rushed to my bedroom. The husband was on his mobile. Clueless, I paced the room.

He raised his brows, in query.

“What is she reading?” I thundered.

“Who”, he asked perplexed.

“Your daughter.”

“How will I know. You are the one buying her books…”

“Yeah, I’m the one...”

 “What’s bothering you,” he asked picking up his laptop now and checking his report sheets, making me completely lose it.

“Keep your undies on, she says.”

“So.” He was as cool as only he can be, concentrating on the papers before him.

“What so? Do you even know what it means!!” I didn’t know why I was annoyed.

Now he looked up. Totally with me, with that mischevious smile in his eyes.

“Shut up!”

He simply threw his palms wide and shrug. “Okay. Your command your wish.”

“What?”

“Whatever that phrase is.”

“We have an issue on hand…” I attempted again, annoyed with his approach, when he gestured me to sit down. “See, he said pointing to the screen. He had Googled, meanwhile. “Keep your panties on; Keep your undergarments on…” 

He read aloud, “It’s slang usage. It means composure. It means keep your calm.”

“Okay now?” he asked, getting back to his work. “I have to send an urgent report. Until then keep your’s on.”

Like a deflated tyre, I shriveled in shame.  

“Hope you didn’t say anything unwanted to her,” he asked throwing a side glance.

“I think I did but then…” before I could complete our li’l girl walked in and stopped in her tracks, “What happened Mamma? Why do you look like you have klunk on your face?”

“Wh…w..at on my face?”

“Poop! Don’t you know that?”

“Can you please speak normal English.”

“Oh my Goodness! This is normal English in ‘MazeRunner’.

The books that kept my girl busy during the holidays

“Stop reading those crap books of yours. Don’t you have anything better…”

“Okayies, okayies, chill Mamma, keep your undies on!”

“I said stop it, will you”

“Papa,” she whispered, “What happened?” she asked snuggling beside him.

“Mamma got up with a migraine. Leave her alone!” He whispered back.

... a contraceptive that got people into overdrive

 

The government does it again. Portrays taking a U-turn on porn ban following public shaming. However, ISPs continue with the ban until they hear the order loud and clear. Blaming rapes on such websites was a lame and foolish excuse… they might be considering the latest UN population report to shade their morality, instead. 

So let’s have some action, please. Let’s protest against those who helped the government ban 850 sites. As for the banned content, there always has been ways around. Bans are like contraceptives, they make users go into a reckless overdrive [pun intended]. 

How can we let such a conscious step initiated by our sacrosanct government fizzle away. So for purely moral reasons, legal procedures must be initiated against those who short-listed these websites. How could they have zeroed in on selected sites without having poured over thousands of porn websites to decide which among them are the worst! 

Bans are like contraceptives, they make users go into reckless overdrive

And as if on cue to demonstrate the idea of the governments’ decision, leaders expose their dirty minds. Bharati’s sexist remark about Delhi becoming safe for ‘beautiful women’ to walk at night is sad. If we can take solace that he represents the average filth of just a party or a certain section of society, I fret to think of what to make of PM Modi’s ‘despite-being-a-woman’ comment, and that, too, on a foreign land. Now, that's crossing the boundaries! 

To term these as ‘gaffes’, ‘slips’, or merely ‘irresponsible’ is gross ignorance. Such expressions are toxic fumes emanating from the growling reaction of the mirth of their deep-set conditioning that begin frothing on the slightest trigger. 

We are a nation that looks ahead so we will let bygones be bygones… we will not mention MPs watching porn in the House, but henceforth we will not tolerate laymen exercising their choice within their own homes. Phew! 

Internet censorship is a terrain that needs to be handled with care

Generalising judicial orders to accommodate selfish motives and applying it on parallel grounds should be contempt of court and punishable. By using child pornography as a bait to buckle in ulterior motives is missing wood for the trees – to be modest – and rudimentary at the least. 

Again, it’s not only about people’s freedom of expression that is curtailed here, rather it’s about what such holier-than-thou attitude can lead to. Internet censorship is a terrain that needs to be handled with care.

Isn’t the government aware of erotica forwarded on mobile groups for a laugh or that instant stress-busting pleasure? WhatsApp debauchery is also appalling, if we consider the fact that mere words can set minds ablaze. Will the government screen through the varied lexicons to ban words? Mere gestures can arouse people. Will the government appoint moral polices on streets? From Kamasutra and Ajanta and Eloro caves to 50 Shades of Grey, Indians have lapped it all up. But now, websites that portray the same are blamed for rapes and pervasive males’ sickening traits.

Mere words can set minds ablaze 

A progressive government’s regressive act! But then, knowing what an ambitious leader we have in our PM and his record-breaking vision, would it be far-fetched if the government considered the UN report stating India will overtake China by 2022 in population, seriously.

Modiji can begin re-arranging his brimming plumes of records, to use 850 sites for another first-time act. Seven years later headlines will scream: "This is first time in India’s history a Prime Minister has defied UN prediction by banning porn sites.” Whoa!

When the husband went footloose with lady friends... I took selfies

Okay, so here's how I was stranded in the car park...

The husband's lady friends planned to hit a pub this weekend. And I decided to tango, only because I've been wanting to check out Dubai's night life since long. Now that our li’l girl is holidaying back home, I considered it the opportune time.

As run-up to the night, the frenzied WhatsApp messages made me wonder why these ladies are so excited about a pub outing. But then, they’ve been such - a bunch of lively, chirpy souls loud as only they can be. So I let him and them be. By 11.45pm, all of us [with our respective spouses] collected at the car park and began greeting one another.

I felt like the ugly duckling trying to fit into a quaking brood 

One friend, in a shimmering black top standing on almost 5-inch stiletto, lips painted cherry red, gave me an up-close 'hello'. If I felt stripped, I only had to wait for the next couple. Their men were fine. But the ladies were clearly overboard... or so I thought. Each outdoing the other figure-atively! I suddenly felt like the ugly duckling trying to fit into a quaking brood. I looked around for support... the husband was already in his elements walking ahead, even cars whizzing past seemed cockily gleaming. So I told myself, "What the heck, I'm here to see what happens inside." And strutted ahead.

Walking towards the entrance flanked by - whom I thought then - were over-dressed friends

"You can't go in", said the security screening eager-beavers. "You need to wear closed shoes."

I was in flats. For the life of me I can't stand on heels, forget walking on one. Am I insane to strap myself on to one when I went to have 'fun'? Well, one friend's husband attempted to reason it out with the security. I don't know what they spoke. But the security turned to me and said with more sternness than earlier, "Jeans also not allowed. It's rules."   

Like an endangered animal I was let loose into the wild!

Honestly feeling bad for spoiling it for others, I volunteered to wait outside. I guess that did the trick. I told the officer, "I understand. Rules are rules. No worries, I'll stay in the lobby."

"This time, we will allow," he said pointing to the hoarding that mentioned dress code.

Pub Rule No. 1 Learnt: No casuals.

Thus I was stamped on the wrist and allowed in...like an endangered animal inserted with a tracking chip and let loose into the wild. 

Clarity dull because I clicked this the following morning

The din, jarring music, smoke, lights, drinks... I saw couples molly-coddling, a few silently sipping their drinks and one in serious conversation. I envied the power of their eardrums! Not only did I turn deaf, I had lost my sensation, too. People had to tug at me to call my attention. All I felt was my heart thumping with each beat. I decided to make the most of the uncomfortable night, though.

I began video shooting. Suddenly, a fluorescent green beam of light blinded my eye. I moved to shake it off and continued, when the sharp light danced all over my face. The security personnel came over, "No taking pictures inside. Mobile off please."

At 1:15am I stepped out into the almost-empty car park 

Now what do I do? I looked around and lo! I see a tennis moment. This woman was unstrapping her sandals and she took an eternity doing so. Was she so drunk that she couldn't find the buckle or was that a rented shoe, she wasn’t familiar with? Well, I quickly looked away. Her's was a shame to womenfolk. And I caught two men gawking - one swallowing the smoke. Interestingly, their women were also giving them company. And, yes, I counted four girls kick their heels off before stepping on the dance floor. So much for rules!

Pub Rule No. 2 Learnt: No recording on mobiles. Capture it all in your eyes.

Well, half-an-hour into the wild, I called it quits. I left the husband with his lady friends and returned to our car and switched on the music. Ah! I can’ describe the peace I felt.

I noticed two women strategically poised, measuredly smiling to no one in particular and yet to all.

Okay, since my aim was to check out the night life, I decided to do some  research on what exactly transpires. So at 1.15am, I stepped out into the almost empty car park and strolled around at hearing distance from the two women. But when the second man who stopped by them also sneaked a look my way, I walked away and stood on the opposite pavement far away, where I could still figure out their conversation.

Racked my brains for a sensible action after an idiotic move

A little later, I noticed a person who hastily walked by, phone glued to his ear, slowing down and turning to look back. This gentleman-looking male walked back, this time slower and clearly looking at me. I ignored. He took about 15 steps and returned again, this time walking closer to the pavement I was standing on and staring at me. At that point, I thought it was better to end my night-life research and walked back to my car.

He followed and stood leaning on the car parked opposite mine. Idiot! [He or me?] Cursing myself as I racked my brains for a sensible action, my phone rang. The husband: "Did you lock the door?" Like to a child, he explained, "Lock it from the driver's side. I'll be there in say 20 min.."

Was it his common sense or sixth sense? But he's an over-protective husband - at my rescue always without me having to even utter a word.

After that quick distraction, when I looked in front, I saw him walking towards me. I did miss more than a few heartbeats. But he got into the Lexus to my left and drove away. Yes, he did give me one last close look while reversing.

Well, I had to capture the night. So took a few selfies until my man came. From there  we headed to a sheesha hangout. Food and gossip followed until the wee hours!

The sheesha hang-out gossip demands another dedicated post... so for now this spread should suffice

The next morning, I was late in calling our li’l girl. "Why are you so late, mama?"

"We returned late. Had been to a pub with all aunties from Papa's office..."

"What exactly do you do in a pub, but?" She wanted to know.

"Well darling, nothing just booze and dance and songs..." She cut me short, "So what the hell were you doing there?"

PS: If the title is misleading, then blame it on your reading!

In memory of APJ – let unsung heroes break News henceforth

Appeared in today's Hitavada edition...

Nothing that can be possibly said or written can ever even adequately express the persona Dr APJ Abdul Kalam was. But would he have wanted his people to write and speak for days about him? A person who lived tall until his last breath, would rather we get about and be productive instead. I guess, he would be happy if people understood the essence of his words that is now being voraciously circulated.

The right way of paying tribute to the People’s President would be by ‘celebrating’ his life. In a way, that’s being done at the moment and will continue for the next 7 days and then… annually.

He was worried about the Punjab terrorist attack during his last few hours, according to his aide Ssrijan Pal Singh. Corruption and negativity disturbed him. So the only way to celebrate his life would be by eradicating and staying away from all that is detrimental to the progress of the nation and its people.

Possible?

If this touching farewell can arouse and help change at least a fraction of the population! He wanted to be remembered as a ‘teacher’ and not by any of the many credentials he earned in his illustrious life - his simple life. I don’t think he’d approve of the word ‘illustrious’.

Having said that, why do we wait to sing praises of good noble souls until they depart. Let’s celebrate people who make a difference to others while they are among us. Doing so after they’ve left remains just that – a mockery of a condolence show.

Hailing great  people who live for the betterment of others while they are in the act should be made a practice. Can’t Indian media unite on this? Rising above political quotients and professional race. Can’t we reach a consensus on stopping to play up disasters as News? Why should bloodshed, rape, political banter, corruption, economic index, prices, celebrity gossip…et al make it to opening headlines, every single hour of every single day round the year? How does such negativity contribute to the betterment of human race or nation at large?

Let’s spread hope. Let’s have a policy, a law in place [if that is what it takes to have new initiatives], which will require media - newspapers, TV channels, radio stations, online portals – to portray one good deed by a common man as their ‘Lead News’ no matter what’s trending in the world.

Let an unsung hero ‘break the News’ across India every day henceforth - as a tribute to Dr APJ Kalam who gave us hope and taught us to dream of a better tomorrow.

WhatsApp suckers

The word ‘troll’ I assumed was only associated with fishing. As in fishing in the waters for those aquatic creatures, until I discovered nothing-worthwhile-to-do vertebrates who fish for celebrity slips in the virtual world are also called trolls.

Bollywood’s very own Alia Bhatt introduced me to the word through her infamous faux pas recently. Am I a late bloomer? Possibly. Am not too high on matters of tech. Now, I consciously have stopped forwarding Alia jokes that come my way. Enough of passive trolling!

Pls do not respond if you do not have anything to add of value 

My action is thus, also because I’ve had enough of another similar breed that’s usurped my mobile - WhatsApp pleasers! Someone please name them!

This is the number of messages that waited my attention in 12 hours

They are more prevalent in professional groups, than friendly or family groups. In common parlance on any given day you may want to call them arselickers.

I’m a member of at least five such groups. In my best moods, I find it hilarious. Their activity starts long before sunrise, replying to ‘Good Morning’ thought-of-the-day posters. From icons of varied sorts to folded hands, thumps-up of left thumb, right thumb, claps, victory sign… smileys and hands-up of one hand, two hands… So far so good. It doesn’t stop there, they key in – ‘Well said’. Good thought’….

And if anyone in the group were to share a hot news or an opinion piece [that doesn’t pertain to the group’s normal activity], then I mute my mobile. “Thanks for the info XX”; “XX thanks for sharing”; “XX very informative,”; “wow, wow, woo captivating XX”; “XX appreciate your thought about sharing” [what the !!!!  they think about his thought, too].

If the person forwarding is a senior, then every single member in the group will post their acknowledgement.

Now, this takes the cake. I read this the other day in one of my groups. “Will surely find time to read it XX, Tks. It’s fab”! Without reading the person knows it’s fab. MORON!

It doesn’t stop there. The original forwarder replies to this with hugs, tears, kisses, lols… And each time the mobile alerts you.

However, when a controversial news is posted on professional groups, reactions are guarded… “Oh”; “Um”. Yet they cannot hold from reacting.  

The least you could do is stop the round-robin 

This is one of the banes of social media. Of course, the worst being moral policing and virtual arraignment. But then, that’s serious stuff that the community and world media trolls on.

I’m more concerned about the trolling that creeps into my bedroom. I’ve missed many important calls and delayed replying to numerous messages because of these Whatsapp arselickers. I’m forced to RIP my device during peak hours.

Well, requesting 'pleasers' to stop their virtual activity will take a lot more effort. The least you could do is stop the round-robin. Old posts, which had collected its share of smileys and hugs and thanks, again being forwarded a few days later by someone from the same group and the same chain of reaction continuing all over again. PLEASE! somebody throw them in the ocean!

At least check before you forward. Have you read it before, have you forwarded the same? And for Pete’s sake do not respond if you do not have anything to add of value.

Can’t wait for Whattsapp to begin charging for the service, at least such suckers will think twice before reacting.

Meanwhile, someone please name them! 

BTW...adjectives overflow, too. Here's a classic one..."Xcelent msg XX, worth emulating, reproductive... 

Isn't this the hottest news ever...You may blame WhatsApp for surprise pregnancies! 

Don't tear your hair out yet.