Oh, The Joy of being Judged #WorkingMother !!

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

Ok. I Will talk to my Son; Can you also talk to your Daughter Pls !!

‘Teach your Sons’ seems to be the next big tagline. Much hyped, much exaggerated, much-needed, much abused.

What do I dedicate to thee, Dear Appa ?!

“Margarita Mamun dedicating her Olympic Gold to her Father who died just days after her Glory” was one of the best videos I saw today.

The emotions of Ms Mamun warmed my heart. It felt good. Her dad in heaven sure must have rejoiced.

I can never complain that I did not have enough time to dedicate a glory to my father.

I spent full 30 years with him, enough time to make him feel proud of me a hundred times. But I never did. He never complained. But I never did. But again he never expected.

I never studied well, to dedicate Scholarships to my Appa.

I never fared in Sports to dedicate Gold Medals to my Appa.

I never ever did anything that would bring him any glory.

For all that I did to him, he graced me with such love and faith , that will shame me to my grave. Yes, that’s the word. He gave me the greatest gift a Dad could ever give. He believed in me.

He loved me so much, that even after his passing away, I live only for his love.

His love is interwoven in my nerves, in the core of my heart. Such extraordinary love for a commoner like me. I was a commoner in my eyes, but for Appa I was his world.

If not for my Father. If not for that love and faith that did not expect any dedications or honours or the least a mention of his Child’s greatness, I would have been nothing today.

But I will Appa, I will dedicate.

Dedicate, few moments of Kindness that you always inspired me to.

Dedicate few hours of Prayers of Thankfulness that you always practised.

Dedicate some forgiveness that you would love to see me do.

Dedicate a lifetime of humbleness that defined you.

For you were a Father who accumulated a lot of wealth for me. Wealth called Love,  simplicity and Education.

You took pride in a very simple disorganised little girl for her imperfections.

You picked up the broken pieces of your failed daughter and moulded her to be the woman she is today. You did not give a chance to look out for Inspiration. You were the Inspiration within me.

You looked through an Imperfect Soul and rejoiced in it instead of ridicule.

I was just a little Glorified Nothingness, that you adored.

Probably that’s all I needed to survive.

And that gave me a little more confidence to live and succeed.

Finally, I will dedicate my Motherhood to you. I will try and be the father like you.

And will leave footprints in Ved’s life, just as you did in mine, Footprints of love and grace.

We will make every small moment count in glory and dedicate our well spent life to you.

Pris,

A little Boy’s Amma.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

There are only very few ‘Genuine’ mothers in this world ~ Sadly !!

 

I happened to hear a bizarre statement a couple of weeks back, rather I was told that,

Mothers who had Natural Childbirth or the so called ‘Normal’ delivery are the ones who love their children most.

Seems like only ‘those’ women knew what ‘Real’ pain is !!

Astonishingly this declaration came from a Woman… who further added that the labour is the most intense pain ever and you will know the value of the baby only if you delivered naturally.

I was like, Uhh !! Umm!! well not really .. I had a C-Section, and I love my Son, more than all of the love put together in this world.

This is not just one Bizarre Statement, that float around… there is more to this, like,

You are a ‘Divine’ mother if you had a Normal delivery.

You are a ‘Not-so-Divine’ mother if you had a Caesarean.

You are a ‘Lucky’ mother if you’re firstborn is a Boy.

You are a ‘burdened’ mother is you’re firstborn is a Girl.

You are a ‘Nice’ mother if you breastfed you’re child.

You are a ‘Selfish’ mother if you did not breastfeed.

You are a ‘Blessed’ mother if you had a child within 1 yr of marriage.

But, let me tell you, which ever type of mother you are, you are the best.

You have gone through weird emotions, unpleasant days, public embarrassment and strange happenings all through pregnancy.

It is such a real struggle, that goes so unnoticed, only because you decided not to make a big deal out of it.

More than the time, effort, love and money, you have invested a lot of you’re health for this little being.

You may not realise, you may not believe, if I tell you that, your child thinks that, you are the bestest thing that has ever happened to Her/Him.

You are the Superhero in their hearts today. it may change tomorrow, that’s inevitable. But today, you are the SuperHero, and you mean the world to them.

Don’t let anyone describe how much more or less you love you’re child, just on the basis on how and when you delivered.

Always remember, when God called you to be a Mother, he did not ask for perfection or normal delivery. He chose you for the highest order of blessing.

And yes, There are only very few ‘Genuine’ mothers in this world ~ and YOU are one of them !!

Pris,

A little boy’s Amma.

 

 

 

 

 

 

The ‘Un-Lovable’ Mother-in-law !!

How to poison Mother-In-Law !!

 

A long time ago in China, a girl named Li-Li got married and went to live with her husband and mother-in-law.

In a very short time, Li-Li found that she couldn’t get along with her mother-in-law at all. Their personalities were very different, and Li-Li was angered by many of her mother-in-law’s habits. In addition, she criticized Li-Li constantly.

Days passed days, and weeks passed weeks. Li-Li and her mother-in-law never stopped arguing and fighting. But what made the situation even worse was that, according to ancient Chinese tradition, Li-Li had to bow to her mother-in-law and obey her every wish. All the anger and unhappiness in the house was causing the poor husband great distress.

Finally, Li-Li could not stand her mother-in-law’s bad temper and dictatorship any longer, and she decided to do something about it.

Li-Li went to see her father’s good friend, Mr. Huang, who sold herbs. She told him the situation and asked if he would give her some poison so that she could solve the problem once and for all. Mr. Huang thought for a while, and finally said, “Li-Li, I will help you solve your problem, but you must listen to me and obey what I tell you.”

Li-Li said, “Yes, Mr. Huang, I will do whatever you tell me to do.” Mr. Huang went into the back room, and returned in a few minutes with a package of herbs.

He told Li-Li, “You can’t use a quick-acting poison to get rid of your mother-in-law, because that would cause people to become suspicious. Therefore, I have given you a number of herbs that will slowly build up poison in her body. Every other day prepare some delicious meal and put a little of these herbs in her serving. Now, in order to make sure that nobody suspects you when she dies, you must be very careful to act very friendly towards her. Don’t argue with her, obey her every wish, and treat her like a queen.”

Li-Li was so happy. She thanked Mr. Huang and hurried home to start her plot of murdering her mother-in-law.

Weeks went by, months went by, and every other day, Li-Li served the specially treated food to her mother-in-law. She remembered what Mr. Huang had said about avoiding suspicion, so she controlled her temper, obeyed her mother-in-law, and treated her like her own mother. After six months had passed, the whole household had changed.

Li-Li had practiced controlling her temper so much that she found that she almost never got mad or upset. She hadn’t had an argument in six months with her mother-in-law, who now seemed much kinder and easier to get along with.

The mother-in-law’s attitude toward Li-Li changed, and she began to love Li-Li like her own daughter. She kept telling friends and relatives that Li-Li was the best daughter-in-law one could ever find. Li-Li and her mother-in-law were now treating each other like a real mother and daughter.

Li-Li’s husband was very happy to see what was happening.

One day, Li-Li came to see Mr. Huang and asked for his help again. She said, “Mr. Huang, please help me to stop the poison from killing my mother-in-law! She’s changed into such a nice woman, and I love her like my own mother. I do not want her to die because of the poison I gave her.”

Mr. Huang smiled and nodded his head. “Li-Li, there’s nothing to worry about. I never gave you any poison. The herbs I gave you were vitamins to improve her health. The only poison was in your mind and your attitude toward her, but that has been all washed away by the love which you gave to her.”

– Author Unknown !!

I am sure that story touched a few hearts like it did for mine.

I often think about stories that float around about that ‘Un Lovable’ Mother-in-law.

But just imagine,

She has already lived twice as much as you did.

She has seen the best and worst of her life.

She has dreams (just like you) for her children.

She was the queen of the house. Suddenly you come in and start advising her. Put yourself in her place and visualize how it feels.

She is sharing her precious child with you.

She is proud of you. but she never confesses it.

She actually is more proud of you that her son, but she never ever will say it.

Probably she was a single mother and gave more than her life to bring up that one life, who now calls you his life.

She may feel left behind with all you’re sudden high funda discussions. there is a gap, she feels lost in it.

She is probably smiling to herself and saying, he is my Son, I know him before you, he does not like that Green colour shirt !!

She is loud, noisy, cranky for reasons known only to her.

She will annoy you, pester you, make you question you’re existence and force you to think of storming out of the house and never to return.

Believe me, she has gone through all those days, a minute by minute of you’re anguish she knows. She has survived it. So will you.

Remember a gem cannot be polished without friction, nor a Woman perfected without trials.

Probably if there was no mother-in-law, you would have never been perfected.

Her ageing soul is probably crying out to you for some help, again silently, again for reasons unknown to her.

She knows deep in her soul, you will be the person in all probability to feed her the last food.

She knows its possible to love the Man whom she raised and hate her.

She is dying a bit on the inside each time you fight with her son. And no denying she is way too possessive of him. Like you don’t.

As a young bride herself, she has faced it all, much worse in fact, and she knows exactly how you feel. But she can’t help herself.

Maybe she is not all that bad. maybe she is much sweeter than you.

Once a while sit and think about the dreams you have for you’re child.

And how you would want to breathe you’re last in his arms without a third person in between you.

Of course I am not denying the exceptions of Mean Mother-in-laws.

But hang in there ..

This one woman, spent her energy, time, money and memories to make the man you are living with now. If at all he is any good, it is because of the mould his mother made and the sacrifices she did selflessly.

I would like to finish this post off with a Beautiful Quote from Ayelet Waldman,

“I went from resenting my mother-in-law to accepting her, finally to appreciating her. What appeared to be her diffidence when I was first married, I now value as serenity.”

Pris,

A little boy’s Amma.

 

 

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

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.

 

 

 

 

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.

‘Those’ 37 Weeks:

The Ignorant 1^st 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 37^th 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.

Oh !! The Joys of a Working Mother !!

He bursts into tiny baby tears the moment he sees me after 10hrs and that second makes me feel like the most luckiest mother in the world. I feel wanted, I feel loved, I feel special with the truth that finally someone has taken me so seriously and that is my Son, my Baby Ved.

He has been waiting for me; Every second past 10hours.

For he knows I will definitely return,

I will return to Hug and Squeeze him and wipe away the miserable heartache of separation.

I let him pull my hair with his babysoft fingers

And that gentle pain is the best medicine for my aching soul.

He clings to me like a Baby Kangaroo and I walk around the house with me, even to the restroom sometimes.

He gives the “My amma has come yayyyyyy” kind of look to his Grandparents.

And what happens next is the most treasured moments of my life.

We cuddle, we fight, we laugh, we let go off silent tears and look into each others eyes and whisper in sync “I wish I never let go of you”.

We crash in each others arms.

And soon as he drifts into  a peaceful sleep in my lap, I read him in detail.

His nails have grown big, his golden anklets have grown small, some tiny particles in his rosy nose and few strands of dark silky hairs entangled in his baby fingers.

And as I hold his tender body close to mine, I hear the most stunning melody of all in this world, His Heartbeat.

Oh what a Bliss, That I am Woman, I am a Mother and you are my Son.

Now that I know he has fallen into deep sleep, I quietly pull him away from me and carefully place him in his baby bed.

I turn my head and that’s not even a second of leaving him and all I hear is inconsolable sobs. It gets louder and heavier by the second. In split second I grab him again and hold him close to me and the cries disappear. I repeat this process a couple of times just to hear his cry and comfort. What a Heavenly experience !!

I chose to be a Career Woman:

• To support my parents. they have given me my biggest and strongest wings called education. They invested in me and I want to do justice to it. They have not asked me for anything and when the need comes I don’t want them to ask anyone else other than my brother and me.

• To help my Husband: I want him to take a week off or a month break and spend time with Baby Ved. to help his parents, to go on that much needed vacation with his “Boy” friends, of course. All this without worrying about finance, for I will step up for him.

• For my Son, for I know his dreams will be as high as the sky and wide as the ocean. I have taught him to dream big and I don’t want to be a showstopper.

• Finally for myself. help myself buy gifts for my nephews and nieces without having to think much. Help buy my own clothes and that expensive hair serum :-). Help myself enjoy the freedom of giving when I want to give and to whom I want to give.

Having blabbered all of these, there has not been a single night I have slept without shedding the guilt tear.

If only I could, I will trade everything in this world just to sit and watch my son crawl and change diapers and feed him Cerelac.

I’ve missed my parents during my Childhood. I used to sit alone in front of our locked house until mom came from work.

I promised myself that I will never leave my child alone and will be a witness to every milestone.

But History has repeated itself.

We are a working class.

There’s bread on the table because of the job.

And I like to stay it this way.

I love the fruits of my labour.

I love the tired me. I love picking up my broken pieces, I love to strengthen myself, and when I lose my brain I look up to the brightest star where my dad shines as a memory and I regain all that is lost.

I consciously take the effort to dust all the negativity gathered through the day at the door step. Baby Ved doesn’t need them.

For now let me get back to cuddling my precious for whom I will live the rest of my life.

Pris,

A little boy’s Amma.

PS: I am grateful to God, for Ved’s lovely grandparents who have been such a strong support system.