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Dear Son, I want you to be the Man, I always wanted to be!!

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It would easily be the Hypocrisy of the highest order, if I deny my secret dream or wish, that I was born a Boy.

More than once, I have had this secret wish.

When I was a child, maybe around 10yrs, when my brother was given the privilege to roam around and I was told I belonged to the house.

When I was a teenager, when I did not understand multiple happenings around me, and when my brother did not bother to be bothered about anything, and still roamed around the streets.

When I couldn’t wear shorts to the Theme Park.

When I couldn’t talk standing at street corners with friends.

When I couldn’t leave the house whenever I wanted and came in as I pleased.

When I couldn’t be least worried about how long my skirt was and when my brother loitered around the house topless.

Probably there were so many other things I was denied as a Girl Child, and when I look back, these things hardly matter to me now. They were passing emotions.

But there are some moments that are adamantly sitting on my memory lane. Those moments I really wished I was a Boy.

Like the one instance, I was (eve) teased by random school boys, I couldn’t do anything but run as fast as I can. I would have been an Olympian if only I had put in more effort.

Like the other day in bus, when I was still 12 yrs old, and a couple of classmates with me, and we were again (eve) teased. yet again silenced by fear.

Like that moment when my relative told my Appa, why would you need to spend so much on (just) a Girl’s education.

Like that, annoying rule, when everyone agrees that, girls need to talk  slowly and keep opinions to themselves.

Like that Embarrassing TV Ad, where only ‘fair’ girls got good jobs and ‘Fair’ boyfriends.

So many more, that I have lost count of them.

But yeah, I still wish I was Born a Boy, not just for walking around topless, but for many more. I did promise myself, that one day when I have a Boy Baby, I will impose my ‘Dream Boy’ dream in him.

Like, I want this boy in my lap,

To step aside and let his female companion board the bus first.

To open door for her.

To resist the thought of abusing or teasing a woman and to run hundred yards away from that scene instead of making her run.

To tell his mom, that no one cares, if she wears short skirts 😀

To assure his mom, that he is not the nightmare in a teenager girl’s life.

To say NO to racism of any form.

To think he does not belong to the Stronger Sex.

To embrace the victory of his Lady.

To ‘not’ post inappropriate content in social media.

To fight hard the urge to be a bully.

To be ignorant to the thoughts of shaming woman and her body.

So much more, so many more.

The future belongs to the Mothers of Boys to make this world a better place.

Being a mother to a boy has made me discover so many untouched layers of my soul.

Boys are not always a Bully; They are what their mother’s create them to be. Tiny Gentlemen !!

The calling is for Mothers with Boys.

Mother’s of tiny Baby Girls, a wise word for you “Just relax”.

You will know very soon that, Boys are sweet, Boys are Kind, Boys are Strong, Boys are Humane, Boys are Angels.

Pris,

A little boy’s Amma.

 

 

 

 

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Friends Forever ?? ~ A reality check !!

At least once in your life, little Ved, you are going to meet that one person, who will prick you right through your eyes and laugh at you, that, Friendship was one big joke – But don’t believe him yet !!

More than once, little Ved, you will come across that one person, who will stand by you through thick and thin and restore your Faith in Friendship – Call him your Best Friend !!

There will also be a person, who hugged you during good times and vanished during tough ones – Don’t forget the painful lessons he left behind !!

And then will come a friend, who will hang around until money lasts – Run 10 steps away from him !!

Followed by another, who will show up until the last day of your life, until the memories last – Cherish Him !!

Another will walk in and pose as your bestest friend, but don’t fall for him yet, he will be there only till your Popularity lasts – don’t entertain him !!

Then will come this guy, who will be right beside your sick bed, breathing new Promises for the Future – don’t let him go !!

When your parents fail you, this little lad will cry together with you as if he lost his own – Call him Brother !!

He will not have any money, he will not look glamourous, but he will give his life for you – In gratitude, give your life back to him !!

And then she will walk beside you, like a Beautiful Poem, making heads turn and gossip mills spinning – Just ignore all of that, for I, your mother knows, she is your Best friend !!

And then this friend, who before your even realised, snatched away your girlfriend, don’t cry over them – sit a couple of minutes in silence and let her go !!

A friend can make you or break you beyond repair.

Your mom has been very lucky to have very few friends, who have literally spent half their lifetime with her in a constructive way. as I close my eyes, all I can see is a life well spent with them.

Then a negligible few, who have taught the uglier side of life.

And I will also admit that I have not reciprocated many of the friendship invites that came my way.

But you Baby Ved, be wise in choosing your circle. I pray that you end up with people who will shape you and not crush you.

Be around with people who don’t always have to agree with you, with a different opinion, else you will never know the other side of life.

Having said all this, if once in your Lifetime, you meet people, who have robbed you off your Friendship, Surprised you with their ugliness, and scarred your tender heart beyond words, I plead with you, don’t lay there disappointed.

Bounce Back Ved !!

For you always have a Friend for life, who does not always understand your Boyish stuff, who is not as pleasant as your father, who says more don’ts than anyone, who stalks you each second and keeps a tab on your communications, who pokes her nose and wants to know all about your relationships, because she cares for you.

And you call her Amma. We have been together from day 0. And we were born together, you as a son and I as a mother. And I promise to be there for you, forever.

Pris,

A little boy’s Amma.

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Saving the girl child is not the need of the hour – Trust me !!

Pretty curls & bright yellow ribbons, Butterfly frocks and fluttering eyes with infectious smile, I always knew and believed, Baby girls were a slice of Heaven on earth.

I did not know a Boy’s world.

They wore the same boring trousers. Cars & Bikes were not my favourite. I dreaded at the fact of having a Boy Baby until this happened.

It did not just happen, but heard and read and everywhere I looked, I stared at this insane atrocities of Men (Boys) towards its most Precious Gender.

Throughout my pregnancy, I was sure of one thing, I did not want a Baby Girl.

I did not want creepy looking men to drool at my 10yr old Innocent daughter.

I did not want some random funny looking guy to advise her on ‘How not to look funny’

I did not want that ticket collector, that strange man walking on the road, to hit and push and rob her off her innocence.

I freaked at the thought that, that guy whom I always feared all my life, would walk up to her and swear and stain her dignity.

These are just some of the many ‘I don’t wants”. Some of which I don’t find appropriate words to write. Some of which might be very raw, and to refrain from writing them could be the best thing I can do for myself.

Although I had many a “I don’t wants”, I also have a million “I want’s”

For example,

I want to give birth to a tiny baby boy, who would respect and love a girl, knowing that, she is as precious as he is. Her parents too rejoiced the same way, his parents did.

I want to raise a little boy, who knows that, She is equal to him not in ‘many’ ways, but in ‘All’ ways.

I want to bring up this tiny gentleman in such a way that,

He lets her get into the lift first.

He opens the door for her.

He does not let her walk behind him, but beside him.

He does not smoke on her face.

He fights hard the feeling of not to touch her without her consent.

He who does not treat his wife as the “better half”, but as the “best half”

He who points to his daughter and says, be like mom. And to son, bring a girl like mom.

He who is a little generous to her flaws.

He who listens to her.

He who fights for her.

‘Her’ can be his best friend, his classmate, his wife or could be any random girl.

The more I think about the boy, the more I understand the world.

Saving the girl child is not the need of the hour, but Raising you Boys to be Wonderful Gentlemen is the cry of the hour.

Leave the girls alone, watch the boys.

Watch them, watch yourself. What you talk to them, what you let them see.

After all bad boys are not born, they are created.

Take care of your boys, and girls will take care of themselves and the rest will fall in place and the world will fix its women problems altogether and once and for all.

I promise to take are of BabyVed; and yes your Girl is safe 🙂

Pris

A little boy’s Amma.

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Here’s to you, My Beloved Son ~ A Toast !!

 

Grandparents:

They pampered me, spoiled me with their love, loved me more than my parents, taught me to laugh and live and explained about the greatness of our forefathers. The well spent time of my life was definitely with them.

I was my Grandparents Favorite. So was my brother, little cousin Sister and the ones that followed.

In short, they had many favourites, and I was just one among them.

Dad;

He made sure I grew up like a Princess in our Modest Home in Chennai during my growing years.

I had everything I wanted under the Sun, or at least he promised he would get them for me.

He wiped those petty tears, Laughed at the nonsense talks, always acted as the missing puzzle and swallowed my poor Self-Esteem and moulded an utterly useless pack of mud into a woman. Whatever I have today or iam today, its only because of my Dad.

He loved me beyond measure, he believed in me, the biggest gift he gave as a dad.

But then, he loved and believed my brother too. He had another child to love. To embrace. He lavishly shared himself and again I was 1 in 2.

I always used to tell him, “Appa, if something happens to me, you have another Child. But if something happens to you, I don’t have another Dad”.

Mom;

She gave birth to me, nursed me, taught me everything right from eating to spitting. She worked hard inside and outside the house. She spent her young days caring for this little girl but so did she for the little boy too. My brother.

Infact she loved him more than me. After all I was just the 2nd tenant in her little womb.

Yet again I was 2nd to everything.

There was love; there was joy; there was wantedness. But then, I was either tagging behind someone or was one among the many privileged.

Then came my Son, and I knew I have never felt this loved, until he loved me.

He loved me and loves just me at this moment.

I know his heart is full of me.

He told me so, while he looked intensely into my eyes and pierced my soul innocently.

I knew, I always knew, I was just another woman in this world until my Son popped out to tell me that iam his World.

Its not the way he smiles, but the way he cries out for me are the moments that stand out and make me a Champion.

The imperishable moments are those I have failed to capture in my camera. But they are imprinted deep in my heart, so deep that it will not fade away and live long after my heart stops beating or memory fails.

Here’s to you my beloved Ved, My Boy, who made me so wanted and special and a Superwoman.

Life suddenly feels so fresh and blemish-less like your babysoft face.

Come here my little one, let me hug you a little longer for tomorrow might be the day, you will fall crazily in love with your Superhero Dad and once again I take the backseat.

Pris,

A little boy’s amma.

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This Boy !!

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He Changed my World,

And added meaning to it !!

He Painted my Scars,

And added Colours to it !!

He filled my Empty Heart,

And added loads of Memories to it !!

He robbed off every Tear,

And made Rainbows out of it!!

He wiped away all the Dark Nights

And added Uncountable Twinkle Stars to it !!

He laughed away every Fear of Future,

And filled it with Bright Promises for tomorrow!!

He chased away the heartache of the past,

And filled it with his Baby Cuddles!!

He made sure my life was never the same,

And added Sugar & Spice to it!!

He overturned my Fortunes,

And added Priceless Little Moments to it !!

He kissed my Invisible Wounds

And made Treasures out of it!!

He bought home tiny Rainbows, little hugs, lovable cries and soulful laughter. And my life was never the same.

Pris,

A Little Boy’s Amma.

 

 

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Baby Ved ~ Like A Girl !!

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I’m just keeping you aware, that when you visit our home, high chances you might catch a glimpse of Baby Ved cooking his Mom’s favourite dish or watching a Cookery Show.

At that moment, please don’t frown, “OMG Baby Ved, Like a Girl???”

Because I am going to teach him that, when it comes to household chores, there are no gender specific roles.

I admit, I am a very poor cook myself. But Baby Ved is not going to get away with that.

He is going to learn to cook, not just cook but do everything related to cooking.

No. It’s not a girl’s job. To cook is hers and to eat is his, is a ridiculous theory.

He can cook and she can eat. That’s fine.

Cooking, will be my first step in grooming Baby Ved as an Independent Child.

He will cook, Not like a girl, But LIKE A BOSS !!

Also, Wanted to add that, during your visit, you might be taken by surprise seeing Baby Ved sweep and clean the house.

Because his mom has told him that cleanliness is not gender specific. It’s not a choice.

Being a Boy, he has to be more cautious.

I bet, he can do all the household chores , not like a girl, but LIKE A BOSS !!

Please help yourself not rolling your eyes, when you spot Baby Ved suggesting his grandmoms on the latest shopping destination.

For Baby Ved loves shopping. For the moment he loves shopping, so that he can pull the dresses down while sitting comfortably in his baby sling.

Being fashionable and a shopaholic is not a girl thing. Whoever has told you so was just fooling you.

Being able to look your best and striving towards it is a form of creativity.

So yea, Baby Ved will shop with you, not like a girl, BUT LIKE A BOSS !!

I’m raising my little boy to be independent not just to help himself but to save the trouble for everyone around him. An independent boy/Man is a pleasure to be around with.

Who knows, tomorrow he might end up with your daughter and you can thank me at that time 🙂 Seriously !!

For worse, society has filled our minds with gender specific roles and to do otherwise, you will be criticised as “like a girl” or “like a boy”.

If God blesses me with a Girl, I would like to teach her to ride a Bike, Climb Mountains and break every negativity or stereotyping. She can do anything she wants to and not sit and burn in the Kitchen.

Next generation is going to turn the tables for Good. Time to positively enforce your dreams of freedom on your little ones to help them live life to fullest and not be a prisoner of dreams.

It’s going to be a sight to watch.

Not like a Girl, Not Like a Boy, But LIKE A BOSS !!

Pris,

A little Boy’s Amma.

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‘Those’ 37 Weeks:

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The Ignorant 1st 4 weeks:

Never had the faintest idea that I was going to be a Mother. Life was business as usual. Random thoughts like “What if this is the month” to weird thoughts like “No way”. I kept brushing off the Angel voice that kept whispering “Good News on the way”. I eventually found out that I was 4 weeks through and took some time to sit down and let the feeling to sink in “yes I am actually pregnant” and did not understand how far I was.

The Indecisive 5+ weeks:

With positive tests and a lot of blood work, I started the journey of “Road Less Travelled”. More blood work and uncontrollable excitement marked my days and anxious nights. Cautiously walking, eating slowly so that not even a crumb of bread hurts the tiny one in my tummy. It sure was an exhausting experience for a first timer.

Almost felt light like I always felt, sceptic dreams gave me chills, fearing the worse, what if all this was just an illusion.

The non-existent 8 – 20 weeks:

As I was excited to go through the procedures to hear the Heartbeat of my co-occupant on a set date, I was informed of another heartbeat that stopped. I was told that my Dad breathed his last as I went through the crucial ‘make or break’ week of pregnancy. My world blacked out at that very same moment I knew my little one had a heartbeat and a rhythm to it. I wanted to be unaware of what happened around me.

For a thousand moments I wanted to give-up. Because that will help me to cry out loud the least. But this bothering little thing inside my tummy, did not even give me the freedom to do my basic right. I was angry. I was frustrated. But least did I know that my very reason to breathe another second and live another day was this little ball like foetus. I would time and again, gently lean over and say “Baby, please hang on and don’t give up like Granpa”. That incident bought down my human existence and pride to nothing. Life and death not in my hands. Here I am holding my dad’s mere lifeless body in my arms and same time I have a little life developing inside of me. I am not sure, if I should be proud of this moment, of my strength to endure this moment. Here I am welcoming a new life and bidding adieu to another. When I look back I am so thankful to God for creating me a woman to experience this.

Though I wouldn’t have wished a slow and painful death to dad or to anyone, the least a daughter can ask is a ‘good-bye’ and not a humiliating disappearance. I froze, time froze, days froze, dreams froze, my future froze, I crashed into the moment and held on to the little hero in my tummy as I travelled back to my in-laws place all alone to resume back, what people called ‘normal’ life.

20+ weeks:

Heartbeat – check; Nausea – check; stupidity – check, more nausea – check, heartburn – check, sleepless days and nights – check; swollen feet – check; growing tummy – check; Somersaults -check . But every nausea and vomiting and hospital admissions for Hyperemesis was a sign that I was carrying a Hyper- active bundle of Joy. No regrets whatsoever. Worth every little discomfort.

25+ weeks I regained some sense and lost a little with Bed rest:

Baby V had always kept me on my toes, not just running for nausea, but frantic hospital trips for ‘Slow movement’ to ‘no movement’ & counting kicks per hour, days just flew by. Confined in bed, I never felt alone. Moments I wanted to give up, nights I sat up & sobbed, my tiny unformed baby would gently nudge me inspiring in ways I cannot imagine. It was like, “mom I am there”. I dared not give-up and that marked the beginning of my maternity leave.

The reassuring 30+ weeks:

Anytime, anyhow, I was prepared for labour for I knew from now on I will carry my baby to birth. Yes you read it right. I admit that I had my own fears about it. Oh every momma has it. For I know as premature as he may look, we can save him. Yes again you read it right. I had a strong feeling it was going to be a baby boy. A Happy Christmas weekend it was with the people I loved the most. Every second anxiously waiting for the so called ‘labour pain’ or the much hyped about “false labour pain”. None came. I still walked around with a tummy full of baby 🙂

The 37th week – I knew it was today or tomorrow:

For I know the most memorable and the day I will cherish forever will be this week. Not because I am a fortune teller but my gyneac told me so. It was a planned delivery. The day came as fancy as it can be 15.1.15 and out came baby Ved, crying with a heavenly tone which I was sadistically happy about and wanted to hear it over and over. He looked like my dad. He looked like my future.

I admired him, I adored him for countless milliseconds before he was gently tucked away.

My dad was right, he dint lie, when he promised me, that he will be there with me forever and ever. Yesterday as a dad, for today and forever as my Son.

Dreams, dreams and nothing but dreams:

Dreams of how beautiful my baby would look. The long locks of baby hair he would have. I imagined and painted infinite pictures of my baby. Of how tall he will look like my granpa, and those funny ears like his dad. All said and done, I negotiated with God big time for baby V to have the same Angelic smile my dad had. I dreamt on setting no limit for myself.

But the moment I saw baby Ved for the very first time, I was hit hard and filled with shame for all my dreams and the below quote aptly defines it,

“God’s Blessing will put you Best Dreams to Shame”

Truly Ashamed.

Baby Ved looked nothing of what I Imagined, but everything of God wanted him to be.

Fashioned by the Master’s loving hands.

 

 

A word of Thanks to people who don’t expect it:

To my docs, to the kind hospital support staff, to my best friend Mr K, to that colleague who let me take that window seat, who gave me way and offered to carry my laptop bag, My managers, to that kind bus driver who waited till I crossed the road and the warm smiles the strangers gave me when they saw me struggling with a big tummy. For everyone who prayed for me, encouraged me, my friends who kept me sane, My brother my greatest pillar of strength and finally my family and extended family for pitching in and providing that amazing support. And yea this note would be incomplete without mention of Baby V’s Daddy Cool who chose to keep quiet during my anxious moments. Trust me it helped a lot. He is one amazing personality who can make a lot of difference by just sitting around and not saying a word. Amazing presence.

2 important lessons I learned during pregnancy:

  1. The world is full of kind people. Just that they take time to reveal it. They reveal it when they see a pregnant woman. A sign that they acknowledge the tiny human and keep that mother in the highest respect possible.
  2. And if God has brought you to it, He will definitely take you through it. A very encouraging act by Almighty himself to keep you and your dreams as his highest priority. He chose to take my dad, and gave me my son and reminded me, when he closes one door he will definitely open another. Moments like I knew for sure that it’s not me but Jesus carrying Baby V in his arms, are encouraging me even today. He is for sure a Miracle Working God.

Through many dangers, toils and snares we have already come, this Grace that’s bought us safe thus far and Grace will lead us home.

Pris,

A little boy’s amma.