Restarting this blog (Again!)

This is another 'About-me' post to mark the new reboot attempt.
As you can see (read), I’m trying to pick up the threads and continue the stories in this blog after a long break.
I need your help in the form of feedback-on the content, layout, structure, format, well on everything. I am especially weak on the technology, platform side of blogging. Thanks to those of you who responded immediately to my call for suggestions-taking out the time to go through my ramblings in spite of your schedules and coming back with your much valued inputs. Please bear with me as I try to categorize and arrange my posts in a coherent order.  Or should I just junk the effort and move to a new WordPress platform? Please keep the feedback flowing.
Having awesome friends has been my biggest strength in life and you’ll find that evidence scattered through my blog posts. It has helped my getting over so much more than technology issues and writing blocks: the insanity in the crazy-busy days of being a h…

Travel Diary

(This is a very old post, got published again in my attempt at classifying the posts; the journal is still at the 'intentions' stage, let's see how it goes)

Elena’s first trip was a trip to her grandparents’ house for her “Annaprasana” ceremony at the age of five months. At nine months she traveled to Dehradun and Mussoorie. ..

Then came Aurora, and ever since we’ve been traveling across the country with these two in tow.

I’ve been planning to update my travel journal ever since. Yes I had one ever since I was in school. I would take the time out to retreat to a quiet corner, or the topmost bunk and scribble down the experience as it happened. But then in those days, I have traveled without bookings, without a budget, and even without luggage (yes, at times without my toothbrush).And now, before the trips I am psyched about making lists, booking tickets and hotels, and packing almost everything they might possible need. During the trips it is about keeping them entertained, r…

My Story: The High School Trauma

(This post is a continuation of my story from the earlier post
This happened a generation ago. I have tried very hard not to repeat my parents’ mistakes. But I am sure; I have made plenty of different ones. I just hope that my daughters deal with them in a better way than I did. )

Mummy meant well. Being a teacher, she  was well-informed about the benefits of CBSE over the archaic state board syllabus and so she changed my school in 11th standard. Yes she also wanted me to be away from the strong peer pressure, my existing group of friends, and begin again as a focused student.
I did not want to be a focused student. Getting better marks on subjects I anyway didn’t want to study didn’t make much sense. As a teenager who drew on the company of her friends for oxygen, it felt like the end of life to be forced to cope without them.
(My imagination and my emotions were always dramatic (rather melodramatic) as per conventional norms. But that’s how I think and feel. Yeah, even now J.)
I did try…

A Birthday Party with Fairies

Birthdays were one huge annual task for me. They were two huge annual tasks to be precise, and that too within a span of five days in February.
They were like this and this and this.
The budget sheets and estimate sheets I used for annual planning at work were child’s play compared to the bday.xls file I had created over the years. It had master-lists for guests, party-item suppliers,  invitation formats, party themes, ideas for return gifts, menu planning, ideas for games, entertainments, pick-and-drop logistics, cleaning-up, start-be-end-by dates for tasks  etc. etc.
And when they went off to boarding school this became another way to miss them; another vacuum to fill.
The first time one of them was not here for her birthday, I felt like calling her friends over and celebrating just the same way. But it would have not made sense. Not doing anything also did not feel correct.  It was such a special day for us, I still wanted to celebrate. Celebrating just by ourselves also didn’t s…

My Story: How the High School subjects chose me/us

I am starting to write my own story here.First, because my primary source of inspiration-my conversations (aka tirades, rants, clashes, slugfests) are so few and far between with the girls moving to boarding school.Second (or maybe this is the primary reason) because as formal studies are taking over their life in a stronger grip (my last post);, I feel as if I am re-living that trauma again. I wrote this part of the story first on a post for mycity4kids.Reposting here..At fifteen, Elena had to decide on her ‘subject-combination’.It took me back to the time when I had to make my choice. I had been  for waiting for months for the time where we get to choose which subjects to study.
I loved History and Literature and Geography. The combination wasn’t ‘available’ in our school so I had to pick the nearest available package. I think it was History, English and Home Science.
My parents were aghast. Their well-wishers (extended family, neighbors, friends, friends of friends, families and all)…

As they enter a new world

Kids grow up fast. I too had heard the cliché so many times. But sentences become clichés only because we use them so many times; live them so many times.
My daughters are in 8th and 11th grade now. Their world is so different from the one I used to blog about. It is beautiful in many ways, scary in many others.
Earlier I used to worry about day-care, maids, PTMs, sports days, birthday parties etc. etc. Now I worry about the world outside, social media, their career decisions and higher education. In fact education is the biggest worry on my mind right now.
We were extremely lucky to find a school which imparts the kind of education we believed in. The girls grew up exploring, experiencing, and enjoying (well, most of the time) their education. But now the long tentacles of the formal education system, the ‘board exams’, the subject-package choices, and the college entrance systems are closing in. I find it particularly scary because I remember what the system almost did to me.  It’…

A New Story

Yes. I spent a whole year, maybe more, trying to come back, move ahead...

Just doesn't make sense why coming to this blog, my own story is so difficult. Maybe it is because the story has changed.

The two litlle babies are now on their own wings. One is an official teenager with all the accompanying drama. The other is a couple of years short of the milestome but is scripting all the more drama to make up for it. My husband and I have resigned from direction and are mere spectators now (maybe we always were-but have been forced to accept it finally).

And so I am no longer a HyperMom, just a wary, watchful one.

Oh Really!! I can hear Elena exclaim. We may have grown out of our roles, but can you stop being Loverna?

"Yes," says the younger one, who has moved on from Barbie movies to following Once Upon a Time. "She has become Cora."

More subtle, more dangerous.

Will I be more regular with writing also?

Really don't know. We'll have to keep watching.
It’s been a long time. It’s been like losing touch with an old friend. You think of her, but then you realize you don’t know her new numbers. You think of asking for it, someday. Life keeps happening, tasks keep getting added onto the to-do list faster than you can tick them off and someday gets postponed, again.
You still think of her, you know it is not too difficult to call, but don’t know what to talk.
Maybe, it’s better leaving some moments only for the memory. Maybe, it’ll be more disappointing to talk and find we have nothing much to say to each other anymore. But maybe, I’ll regret having not made the call even more.
Had it been a mythical friend I was talking about-I could have even added ‘waiting for her to make the first move’ to my list of excuses. I was thinking of my old mommy blog-which feels like a friend I have ignored for a long time, but have never been able to forget completely. It feels strange to log in again. I am actually nervous. What if I make a start again…

I don't think I can do it

I don’t want to be strong anymore. I want to break down and howl. I want to be irrational, emotional.
I want to go back on all the wise, thoughtful, logical decisions. I just want to keep my child close to me.
So many years ago, the doctor cut off a cord, so that she could become her own self. It hurts just like that today; Cutting off yet another cord, and I can’t even cry out with pain because I have to be a mother first. Can I do it? Maybe yes, because she needs me to smile.

Fly High my birdie.

As you get ready to fly on your own, I want you to know the real answer which I never gave to all those questions on: Why are you sending your daughter to a boarding school?
It’s not because:
I am too busy with my jobs and want to hive-off the responsibility (you know how I love to irritate you all the time!!)
Or because it is the latest fad (Along with Smart-Phones and FB, I hate all the latest fads related to soon-to-be-teen girls)
Or because you are not ‘doing well in school’ (I do admit, here in writing, that I am proud or all your prizes, and your performance in the Choir, and Kathak, and badminton, and your painting too..)
Or because you are giving me any “trouble” (I will miss arguing with a worthwhile partner)
Or because we do not have decent schools in our city(Yes, your school is a Great one)
I am just letting go, so that you have more horizons to explore, more opportunities to grow, to learn, to flower and to bloom.
I am letting you go even though I'll miss you every moment, be…