Am I doing the right thing being a homemaker???

Sometimes I stop and think, what's  the use of a college degree and MBA, 
When a pile of dishes in the kitchen sink at me stare.
I wonder at times if I'm doing the right thing by being a stay at home mum, a home maker,
Where I could have had a ten hour or twelve hour job as a  banker.
I cook, I clean, I mop, I potter with utensils, plates and pans,
If this is what I was set out to do, what is the use of doing an MBA in finance!
Sometimes I feel, people come to Dubai to make tax free dough,
Then what am I doing here, happy scrubbing my bathroom floors!
I can easily keep a nanny, a cook and a cleaner and poshly dress and go to work,
What am I doing at home dressed in jeans and tees, where I get no pay, no holidays and no perks!!

But then I realise, looking after my home and my family gives me a great feeling of happiness, peace and satisfaction,
I remember my days of work at the bank were always filled with stress and tension.
I am happy and know I made the right decision of being a stay at home mum,
And I am happiest taking care of my little one.
I love taking care of my toddler, watching him grow,
Cooking for him his favourite food and happy when he hungrily asks for more.
Yes, I could have made pots of money and we would have saved a lot.
Maybe instead of driving a Toyota, a Porsche or Jaguar we would have bought.
But these precious moments, no money can buy or compensate,
I don't want to have regrets later and feel it's too late.
These days with Mikhail will pass and will never come back,
And these 14 months have made me realise I make a great homemaker, a quality which once I thought I always lacked.

Bandra ka Bulawa...missing home...

Yesterday was reminiscing about Mumbai city,
Today reminiscing about the quaint little suburb, Bandra, 
it's memories keep haunting me.
Bandra or the new name "Vandre", thanks to the name change by the politicians,
Meant "port" or "harbour" in Urdu and Persian.
But I am not here to write about Bandra's history,
I'm blogging on what I miss about it and what it meant to me.
Bandra, my birthplace, where I spent 30 years,
Brings back a lot of happy memories and nostalgic tears.
Memories of my school on Hill road, Apostolic Carmel Convent,
Where I'd rather walk with my friends or cycle than travel by car with the parents.
I still remember school lunch sometimes, Hearsch's chilli chicken croissants and A1bakery's mince rolls,
20 years back they were just Rs. 2 or 3, now I'm sure they cost 10 fold.
American express bakery famous for their sliced bread and apple pies,
Perfect with a cuppa coffe on a wet, rainy day Of July.
In the bylanes, near St. Andrew's school, Cafe Andora, famous for their chicken rotis and endless savouries,
And how can I forget the famous Candies, one at Reclamation and two at Pali.
You get  lovely rolls and puffs in Dubai and other parts of the world, 
a scrumptious variety from France, Italy or Turkey,
But they don't have the Bandra taste and aren't that tasty or yummy.
Joggers park at Carter road, filled with serious walkers,
I remember my friends and I would check out the handsome guys, who'd pass by,
Luckily they didn't mistake us for stalkers.
Sizzling bhutta (corn) and hot dosas from the roadside stalls
Especially during the monsoons, they're far tastier than what you get in restaurants or posh malls.
Walks up and down Kane road with my childhood buddy,
And then end the walks with icy golas and Yadav's Bhel puri.
Bandstand promenade, also filled with walkers and joggers,
But the rocks of bandstand filled with college goers, office goers and all types of lovers.
Cafe Seaside a favourite for those in love and the young and old,
Enjoying the lovely scenes of the sea, the Chinese and the milkshakes ice cold.
The bandstand fort, a beautiful structure and also famous for it's "Celebrate Bandra Amphitheater.
People standing for hours outside Mannat, Shahrukh Khans palatial home,
And people waiting impatiently outside Salman's Galaxee apartments,
To catch a glimpse of the actor, hoping bare bodied he'd roam.
The bakeries and butcheries in nearly ever corner and street,
The vada pav stalls, Bhel Puriwallas, you can't make up your mind where to eat.
The beautiful churches, St. Peters, St. Andrews, Mount Carmels, St. Francis of Assissi,
and our heritage structure, the Basilica of Mount Mary,
Where people flock day and night,
Hoping Mother Mary will answer their plight.
Especially the octave week during September,
The Bandra fair which I fondly remember,
the giant wheel rides and candy floss and popcorn,
the crowds, the rush, the noise from people incessantly blowing those paper horns.
People dressed with zari saris and gold especially on September eight,
Its very rare to see such devotion such blind faith.
Turner Road, Linking Road, Hill road filled with hawkers selling everything from shoes to books,
There's no place to walk, no chance to glance or even give a second look.
The Famous cinema halls, Galaxy, Gemini and Gaiety,
Hindi movies are enjoyed best with their samosas and the whistling front row taporis.
Bandra formerly filled with Savios and Sandras,
Now also a home to Alis, Rustoms, Rajendras and even foreign "goras"!
The mosque and the mandirs and the famous Agiarys,
Bandra is very cosmopolitan, a home to Christians, Hindus, Muslims and the Parsis.
Talking about Parsis, how can I forget apro RTI,
Their dal na poris, chocolate tarts, patra ni machi and chicken fry.
Bandra is surely the queen of the suburbs,
A melting pot of food, people and superstars from the film industry.
But no matter where I go, Bandra will always remind me of home and happy memories!

Mumbai Calling....

It's six months since I've seen my Mumbai,
I still do miss it, though I love Dubai.
Mumbai has it's own charm and it's own musings,
A city which never sleeps, always lively and bubbling.
The overcrowded trains, with people literally hanging out,
The mad rush at railway stations of office goers, 
gulping down Dabelis at Churchgate station, the best without a doubt.
The Heritage Gateway of India, the smoky motor boat rides,
the old majestic Taj Mahal hotel, which all Mumbaikars look on with pride.
The Jehangir Art Gallery, Khyber and Cafe Samovar at Kala Ghoda,
And my favourite shopping haunts Westside and Fab India.
Colaba Causeway with hawkers selling paintings, scarfs to fake antiques,
Talking in accented broken English to the "goras", sounds funny but also sweet.
Aga brothers Chicken Frankies and Delhi Darbars Daba Gosht, 
There's a Delhi Darbar in Dubai too, but no juicy Frankies, something which I miss the most.
The Bombay Stock Exchange at the Bombay Samachar Marg,
Brings back fond memories of my first job.
Walks on Marine Drive, enjoying the sprinkles of water on my face from the Arabian Sea,
The icy golas, kulfis and chaats from Chowpatty.
The mixed fruit ice-cream topped with whipped cream from Bachelors,
Sipping chilled juices in the car from Haji Ali Juice Center.
The Old lady's shoe at the Kamala Nehru Park, Hanging Garden,
Reminds me of our school picnics when I was a student.
The beautiful structure of the Siddhi Vinayak temple at Prabhadevi,
Our own Burj Khalifa, the TV tower at Worli.
St. Michael's church packed to the fullest, especially on Wednesdays,
Of devotees praying and chanting Novena prayers.
The Mysore Cafe, the Madras cafe, 
Reminds me of my MBA days.
Bandra, my birthplace, filled with innumerable childhood memories
Strolls on Bandstand promenade, Mount Mary's church,
followed by kala khatta golas and Yadav's Bhel Puri.
The auto rickshaws which are able to take you to your destination in break neck speed,
Taxi drivers driving their old broken down fiats, 
even though the customer is sitting at the edge of his seat.
How can I forget my two years of married life at Andheri.
Frankies from Tibbs and Sai Punjab's Tandoori and Aloo Gobhi,
Sacred Heart Church, Mahakali Caves, the pump house road,
Packed with people and cars 7 x 24.
Our lovely neighbours, the Nayars and Sharmas,
Sadly in Dubai, don't know my neighbours, if they're from India, Pakistan, Lebanon or Burma.
Though I'm lucky to have one of my closest friends,
Staying on a floor below me, on whom I can always depend.
So this is just a bit of what I miss about amchi Mumbai,
It's not the cleanest or the best city to live in,
but it has a special place in my heart, 
which can never be replaced by my new home, Dubai.

My Funny First Date ...

Our wedding picture of the two of us is staring down at me,
And funny memories of our first date come back suddenly.
So let me relate to you in the form of poetry,
The very beginning of our love story.

Ours was an office love affair,
It was pretty hush hush as we didn't want our colleagues to giggle at us or stare,
So we decided to meet outside the gate of Sacred Heart Church Santacruz, West,
Sacred Heart Church, such a huge structure who could miss or even forget.
But we both didn't know that this church had two entrances
And of all the days I left my cell phone at home, I cursed my absentmindedness.
I was there at sharp 7.30 pm waiting outside the gate as planned,
But there seemed to be no sign of this tall, handsome man.
I waited and waited, half an hour passed, it was eight,
I thought to myself what an unpunctual man , how could he be late on our very first date!
So I walked to the nearest phone booth and called home,
To get Nigel's cell number and check if he had phoned.
I called Nigel on his cell, asking him his whereabouts,
Trying really hard not to lose my cool and raise my voice and shout,
And he replies coolly, " I am at Sacred Heart Church, from 7.30 waiting for you",
Now how could that be possible,
Since I've been waiting at the gate, since 7.30 too.
With all the madness, I accidentally put the phone receiver on another customer's phone,
He gave me an angry look, wishing I had turned to stone.
I walked back hurriedly in a huff and a puff, 
This first date drama was really too much.
I reached the gate where I had first stood and waited,
I still didn't see Nigel, my breath was all bated.
I moved a bit further and near a bus stop saw the other gate,
And then I saw Nigel, he was telling the truth, he wasn't late.
We met and laughed at our, sorry, my madness,
Of leaving my cell phone at home, such rare forgetfulness.
But if I didn't leave my phone at home, I wouldn't have such a wonderful memory,
Of our very first date and the rest as you know is history!!

Mikhail - The Picky Eater...

Mikhail at times drives me round the bend,
His picky eating habits trouble me to no end,
He wants chocolate for breakfast instead of scrambled egg,
To make him eat it, I have to run around, plead and beg.
He loves custards and kheers and anything sweet,
I'm afraid it's not the best thing for a toddler to eat.
On the sight of cookies, ice creams and juices, he gives a wide-eyed smile,
But gulping down veggies and meats does take the little imp a while.
If I utter the word "soup", he mopes and whines,
I'm the afraid the next door neighbour will think, I'm torturing my well-behaved child!!
But who cares what people say or think, 
they are not going to feed my lil fella nor wash the pile of dishes in the kitchen sink.

I'm tired and I think I'm going to droop,
But I need to ask this question to some mommies out there too!
Is it true that the first born is always fussy?
And they don't like getting dirty or anything messy!!
Do your kids wail and wallow at times like mine?
Am I doing things wrong or is it fine.

But hey, I remember being a fuss pot too, I disliked eggs especially the yolk,
And my hatred for curds, well that's another joke.
Unfortunately, times change and I am a foodaholic now,
And my mouth moves pretty deftly, like a cud chewing cow.
I wish Mikhail could be a foodaholic like me too,
Though I think I'm expecting too much from my toddler of two.
But on a positive note, I guess his fussiness for me is a free work out,
Who needs to join a gym and exercise, when he makes me dance about!

Reminiscing the good ole school days ...

Apostolic Carmel batch of 1994,
This post is for all of you, to bring back happy memories galore.
Let's start with our uniforms in literally different shades of grey,
Some greenish grey, bluish grey, grayish grey ;) , if I may say,
White shirt, red tie, school badge, Blue and white keds and different shades of steel grey socks,
You had to keep your hair tied, if you had those long Rapunzel's locks.
If not, you were given, those " Drop down Dead" looks by Bernadette or Ursulla, 
Three rounds, round the Basketball court, you know you'd be in for.
Luckily for me, I didn't have to worry,
My hair had never reached my neck, so no tying or plaits or anything for me ;).

Talking about Bernadette and Ursulla, how could we forget their hilarious " Lept and Right" pronunciations,
Their reference to our monthly cycles as "Happy Birthday" would make us burst into girlish giggles.
And then, when we think of the Basketball court, the games of kho kho and Atti Patti,
Or memories of running into the basketball post, falling in excitement and scraping many a knee.

Memories of so many teachers, Tr. Maryann, Tr. Sherry, Tr. Natty, Tr. Nancy, Tr. Joyce,
Bernadette's lectures and firings of "I'll shoot you" at the mere mention or glance at boys.
Tr. Hamida's " Babols" and her funny mimicry and explanation,
Of the reproduction and birth of a tadpole creation.

Tr. Iyer such a fine teacher, no one can replicate,
Her whole heart and soul to teaching Algebra and Geometry to us, she did dedicate.
I still remember the day she fired us, new council members of division A, standard 9
she referred to our badges as "pieces of metal", though gleamingly they did shine.
I was punished, standing sheepishly out of class,
What a day to forget my Algebra book and the book of graphs!
Memories of standard 10, with class teachers, Joyce, Iyer and Mercy,
How can I forget the incident of the intercom, accidentally falling on me,
The entire class being made to stand in the corridor by Sr. Fabiola,
And then called to the principal's office, by our quiet docile Sr. Theodimira.

In our batch, we had many class mates who had  " Namesakes"
Like two Sharons, Shabnams, Nahids, Poojas, two Namrathas, 
one only with the "t" and one with the"h",
Two Tanyas and two Sonalis , one with "I" instead of "y",
Both Sonalis healthy as they were, have pulled my leg and the one with the 'h' has even made me cry!

Memories of children's day come to my mind, 
where we'd dress up in colourful "frocks" of the funniest kind,
And the teachers would enact on stage and entertain us too,
And at the end of all the fun and frolic, we were given one bright yellow ladoo!

I still remember the one act plays,
The march past, long jump, high jump, God knows what other jumps on Sports day,
And remember Ruby house losing to Sapphires just because my Red flag flew the other way!!
Memories of the last days of school, traditional days with us dressed in velvet suits, salwars or zari saris,
Sobbing tears of sadness and writing on autograph books " don't forget me"!

Those were the days my friends,
Sadly, our school days did come to an end.
18 years have passed and these memories still remain fresh,
For me school life was fun and those days were one of my best.

Memories of old and new friends, many of us are great friends even till today,
but even if we are not, just being a Carmelite, binds us in every way.
We may be in different cities or in different continents too,
But my heartfelt wish to each and every classmate is
May "God be your strength" and may he shower his blessings always, 
on each and everyone of you!!

Funny side of Hindi Soaps.....

When I watch our Hindi soaps, I realise between all, there are many similarities,
A woman protagonist, a vamp and the hero caught between these two ladies.
The ladies adorned with heavy jewellery and heavy saris or salwar suits throughout the day,
At night they sleep with their heavy make up too, 
That's the way they sleep in India, portrayed in such a funny way!
These Hindi soaps are so stereotypical in their characters and stories,
Portraying the great big  quintessential "Khandaani" Indian family.

There'll be a protagonist from a middle class family or she may be extremely poor,
And the vamp, the hero's mother or step mother or sister-in-law will be super rich,
flashing her diamonds galore.
There'll be an evil tune when the vamp acts nasty and mean
And a sad tune playing in the background for a sob sob, melodramatic scene.
And there'll be drama, romance and Rhona Dhona, 
But we Indians are so engrossed and raptured in all this madness,
Where some saas and bahus forget to eat their raat ya din ka khana.

Our soap queen Ekta Kapoor has surely glued us to the "Idiot Dabha" (box)
With serials like "Bade Ache Lagte Hain" and "Kya hua Tera vadaa",
She has surely changed the face of Indian television, if that was her "Iraada"
With the Priyas, Niharikas, Anushkas, Monas, 
Indian women are portrayed in a very different light,
They are no longer shown as tortured or troubled poor souls,
Where we viewers pity their sorry, helpless plight.

All Hindi soaps show women fighting back,
And the poor heroes, left dumbfounded, it seems, tongues they lack.
These soaps are surely watchable and cannot be entirely criticised,
As it has been proved, that in some Indian villages, their good values have imbibed,
Where social evils like infanticide of the female foetus has been discouraged,
And educating the girl child has been greatly encouraged.

So watching Hindi soaps and their quirky similarities ain't all that bad and weird
after all it's pure entertainment and good versus evil,
Though these soaps could go on and on and on, and suddenly the heroine is made to look a hundred years!

Happy Birthday Tendlya....

The cricketing God turns thirty nine today,
This is indeed for him a very memorable birthday,
A year before he hits the big four zero (40)
Yes, I'm talking about Sachin Ramesh Tendulkar, our cricketing hero.
Born in Mumbai on 24 April 1973 to Ramesh and Rajni,
Little would they know their son would hold the world record for scoring in international cricket, a hundred centuries,
He has changed the face of modern cricket,
Besides batting, he has also taken over 44 test match wickets.
Sachin also known as "Tendlya" or "Little master"
Is indeed a super master blaster,
His batting, his bowling, his straight drives, his classic style,
indeed the most "wholesome batsman of his time"
He  is our very own Indian Donald Bradman,
Luckily, the Australian legend is able to see his copy apna Sachin, in his life span.
Many who achieve greatness, do change with time,
But Sachin Tendulkar still remains down to earth, temperamental and has a philantrophic side.
He has come a long way since his debut against Pakistan in 1989,
So let's wish him a very Happy Birthday and pray that in cricket he hits more centuries, 
India wins and he always shines!!

Does God exist?????

Sometimes bad things happen to good people and you often wonder why!
Even though they have done only good and never harmed a fly.
And then we question God and ask him, does he really exist!
If he does, why do tensions and troubles and trauma in the world persist.
Why doesn't he shower on those we love only endless blessings
Why does he give problems and sadness which are quite depressing.
Yes, I do believe in God, but sometimes  wonder why,
Why can't he be a little more considerate, show himself to the human eye,
If he does exist, why is there so much worldly pain,
Why can't peace and happiness exists, across all global terrains.
why do criminals walk away scot free, whereas innocent people suffer,
and for various people, at times, why does God's judgement differ.
God, if you do exist and I really believe you do,
Please give strength to those who need you most, 
Especially to those who've been good and always true to you.

I wish I was a baby......

Sometimes I wish I was a baby who could sleep all day,
Lay in my cradle, twiddle my thumbs and while my time away.
No worries, no problems, no tensions,
Life would be o simple, no making decisions , no apprehensions
Someone to bathe me, someone to feed me, someone to even wipe me clean,
No tension of putting on weight or remaining thin,  skinny and lean.
I would only whine when I want my food on time
Or cry and sulk when I'm covered in grime.

I look at Mikhail, my toddler of two,
And envy him, wishing I could be in his place too.
But one day he will finally grow,
Hounded by study tensions, job tensions, girlfriend worries, God knows what more,
and then one day he will look at a baby and wish he was a baby too,
Wishing he could escape his adult life, sometimes, just like me and you!

Shifting homes.....

Shifting to a new house, think again!!
It is exciting but indeed a big pain..
The movers and packers have shifted all to flat 806 from flat 101
But now the real work for me has begun.
The drawing room has to be set up, the curtains, the Television,the dining table and chairs,
The kitchen with it's utensils, crockery, cutlery and silverware.
The thought itself has made me disheartened and tired,
But I've got to pep myself up, got to get myself wired!
There's still so much more work to do,
Set up our bedroom and Mikhail's room too!!
His car bed and wardrobe and toys to be put in his little car cupboard
Hope at the end of the day, I don't turn into grumpy old Mother Hubbard.
The soaps, shampoos and towels have to be placed in the bathrooms,
And after clearing all the mess, the floors have to be vacuumed.
Thank God the Tv and Internet connection were set up pretty quickly,
Else I wouldn't be able to write this blog so very swiftly.
But once everything is set and all is clean and put in place,
I can feel a satisfied smile creeping up on my face.
On hindsight, moving to a new home seems to be fun,
Lucky to have husband helping, as two hands always better than one!! 

Our Obsession with fair skin...

When Mikhail was born, I remember a neighbour said to me,
Oh Mikhail doesn't have your fair skin, he's got the Wheatish complexion of his daddy!
Thats when I  realised we Indians are obsessed with fair skin,
Even matrimonial ads read " want homely girl with FAIR complexion"

Why are we so obsessed with the white colour?
Is it because of the once upon a time, colonial dominance, British era!
There are 100s of creams available to make one fair,
Besides the various bleaches to lighten our facial hair.
we have "Fair And lovely" for women and  now "fair and handsome" for men,
Gone are the days where men wanted to be "tall, handsome and darkened"!
Poor women are rejected because of the colour of their skin,
Can't prospective bachelors be a little less superfluous and see what's within.

Even the media shows dark skinned people sometimes in poor light,
Privileges are given to the fair skinned or those who are pale white.
The funniest of all is when the parents are dark and dusky,
They expect the child they give birth to, to be fair, blue eyed and milky.
When our Indian Gods are depicted in browns, Blues and greys
Why are we so obsessed with the colour white and being fair.
Beauty lies in the eyes of the beholder and is found skin deep,
Beauty is not defined by our colour, but by the goodness we reap.
It's sad that Michael Jackson though he sang " it doesn't matter if you're black or white"
didn't practice what he preached and made himself light.
So I guess it's not just an Indian obsession but also global,
Why did God make some of us black or some of us white,
Why couldn't he just make us all purple!

One month with The In-Laws....

One month has passed and we are back from being five to three,
The house feels quiet and a wee bit empty.
Living with the in-laws was indeed an experience, a memorable one
I am sure they enjoyed every moment with us three, especially their grandson!
Mikhail and I had wonderful company when Nigel went off to work,
Having family at home at times, in a foreign country, is an added perk.
What I enjoyed most was the long chats after our lunch and tea,
The lovely Mangalorean food cooked by mom-in-law which we relished with glee.
Our morning and afternoon sessions of Hindi programs,
Where mom-in-law and I would curse "Anushka" and "Niharika"
The Hindi soap vamps.
The wonderful prayer at night father-in-law recited,
Which made us feel at peace and indeed blessed.

They too enjoyed every bit of their stay,
We ensured that they were comfortable, in every single way.
They enjoyed the food, the malls, the Dolphinarium,
The metro, the masses at St. Mary's church and the Dubai Aquarium...
Time flies and one month has passed,
Didn't expect these days with the in-laws to pass so fast.
But these days have created wonderful memories in my heart and mind,
Living with the in-laws ....the first of many more memorable times!