Oh, The Joy of being Judged #WorkingMother !!

Random Stranger: Hey Hi, where is your Son studying ?

Single Child ? Anyone? I always wanted to be one !!

I always wished all of my Childhood, that I was a Single Child.

Or I wanted an elder sister.

But my Big Brother irritated me like hell and I made sure I irritated him twice as much.

I wished I was a Single Child so that I got my parents undivided love, and lots of chocolates that I dint have to share.

Oh yea, so, he was my brother. So what ?? what else does he mean to me?

I’ve had lucky friends with brothers who were extremely sweet like angels.

But my brother, was so terrifying. His hyperactive soul played pranks with me every other second, he laughed at my falls, never picked me up, never hugged me, never patted me, never asked me how my day was.

He never walked me to school, never helped with homework or help me choose a dress. Never complemented how I looked.

Our mother has to 1^st whisper and then shout loudly ordering him to wish me happy birthday.

He made a formality Christmas wish and a disappearing New year wish and a no wish Easter.

He walked 10 steps away from me; Disowned me every opportunity he got.

Of all these, the most irritating thing he ever did was, to call me names I never liked. Not just in house, but middle of the streets.

I used to runaway from him.

Who wants a brother like this. You might, but not me definitely not me. I even wrote anonymous letters to some Christian Preachers to pray for my brother to like me 🙂

That was probably I did not see what was coming.

Days flew, and years rolled by, but for one particular day, when my whole world was shaking beneath my feet and I was being chewed by the jaws of fate, there stood my irritating and unlovable brother wiping tears like a 5yr old standing at the feet of my Father.

He still dint hug me, he still dint wipe my tears, he just let me sob as we both soaked not just in tears but unexplainable love for the very first time beside our Dad’s coffin.

He sat right across Dad’s coffin in the Church, comforted by his beautiful wife, I looked at him rather stared at him to realise what was born that minute.

It was not really our Dad who died that day, But love was born after 30yrs of being mere siblings.

What if I did not have a brother. I would have been standing there right in the middle like an orphan, begging around with pitiful eyes, to carry my Dad for his final journey.

No I did not need anyone. None of you. For I have all of the worlds Strength & Love put together in one Soul called ‘Asir’, my beloved Anna.

every time I saw his face that day, the more convinced I was , that dad did not ‘just’ die yet !!

He stood tall that day, on that very important day and virtually hugged me and my baby as we held on to hope like a thin rope. He was my SuperHero.

I can even go a step further and feel its sometimes my dad that just spoke to me through my brother. that’s him, that’s him.

Hey he was just a brother in the past, now and forever a father.

I still have some friends who have brothers who don’t even give a second look after marriage, who have parted ways after the death of their parents.

I know of some siblings turned strangers turned foes for the love of so called “wealth’.

As I think back, all I can remember is, I have never hugged my brother, I have never asked him about his Sports Day, I have never complimented him, I have never tried to understand his world.

I was so selfish all along my childhood.

If I had taken the effort to move closer to him and made friends with him, my life would have been less dramatic. Yes ofcourse I would have broken a few bones in that process 🙂

I wish I could travel back in time and make up for every lost minute with you Anna. But yes, life would have been less interesting that way 🙂

For each of us, there needs to be a sibling standing tall shoulder to shoulder. Not just for hugging and kissing but also to hold on tight when everything else crashes down.

When I get old, when my parents die and my kids fly away, I would like to sit in peace and sip that hot cup of coffee and rewind all the good old memories with my brother. Our beautiful home, our grandparents, our parents, the amazing legacy they have left behind.

When I look at Baby Ved, I feel this gentle nudge to get him a sibling.

When I am gone and his dad becomes a sweet memory, the only other person who will pick up his pieces and strengthen him will be his sibling.

We all need a sibling to laugh, love, care, share memories, fight, get hurt, get back on track, to cherish memories and to walk hand in hand as one body one soul.

Many friends may come and go, parents may die one day and children go far away, but my Brother you will stand with me forever in memories after all we shared something so special, our Mother’s Womb.

For me this can be the Bestest relationship for anyone.

Pris,

A little boy’s amma.

 

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.

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 2^nd tenant in her little womb.

Yet again I was 2^nd 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.

This Boy !!

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.

 

 

Baby Ved ~ Like A Girl !!

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.