Shed!

All other kids posed for their parents in front of the school sign, in the parking lot, at the door to the school, in their classroom, everywhere. Mine, well, did not. She refused to smile for the camera and kept looking away every time I begged her for a pose. I was that miserable parent you see running around with her phone ready to snap a shot and missing completely. G stood smirking at my "typical" mom behavior. Both him and S laughed at me while I was not looking. Oh! Well!

As I was about to head out I saw another parent, S's friend's mom, standing teary eyed at the door to their classroom. She was gushing to another mom saying how the kid has grown up and she was not ready for this. I literally touched my cheeks...nothing...no moisture. "Bad Mom" moment...I looked around and saw several other moms doing the same thing...shedding tears...and me...dry like a desert.

I walked away wondering why I did not feel these emotions. I was sad to see her start her next grade but not really sad to see her grow up. As long as she is growing up positively and healthily, who am I to complain? I justified it in my head and walked to the car. I still could not get over it.

I kept mulling about it over and over in my head, am I a bad mom because I did not feel any sadness enough to cry? I thought about it hard and realized that I have never cried at good bye's. The one time I was close to crying was when I left my parents house after a really wonderful summer break. I did not cry during my kinder drop off, or when I left my home country to come to another country. It dawned on me that I lack the emotion and just like me so did G. The image of S shooing me away and going to her desk begging me not to embarrass her came to my head. She sat down at her assigned spot and never once looked back. This was her, from kinder to now...just like mom and dad...she was one of us, the kind that does not look back after saying bye.

Thanks for reading!
A-non-Shedding ART

Dressing Down...

I enjoyed dressing up, looking beautiful, putting in the effort...well, I enjoyed it when it happened that once in a while moment. The rest of the time, it only reminded me of the effort to do it and undo it. I remember the times as a high school kid when I decided that I would dress up plain and simple to stand out in the over made up crowd. My strategy did not work.

I remember the time this guy wanted to go dancing with me and I walked into the club (aka known as disc's in the '90s India) wearing salwar and pony'd up hair. I failed miserably but I have to give kudos to the guy who did not bat an eye (in front of me at least) when I showed up tired and bored. This was my style. I did revenge dress up. If I had to go meet someone I had once had a crush on, then I took the effort, else it was casual jeans and tee.

I even remember the days I would walk into a 5 star hotel quite under dressed and be stared at. I told myself that people who go to luxury places every day (not that this was my daily thing) did not have to dress up to show that they belonged, I assumed I carried some sort of air around me...failed assumption.

When I finally got a chance to go on a date with this (then) cute guy I dressed up. Wore a really cute denim short dungarees borrowed from my friend and my cute boots. All my friends noted that I looked cute. One of them also said that they never knew I had such nice legs (Ahem!).

Then I grew up and got a job. My first job required me to wear jeans and tee as I had to be on site and it was dusty and dirty. This fell well within my realm of wardrobe and comfort zone. I owned 2 formal wear. When we had to go to a facility for the opening ceremony I showed up to work dressed up and people failed to recognize me. Everyone noted, "You clean up really well..."

My next job started off well. I updated my wardrobe and had a full set of formal wear. The first two months went off well until I noticed that not everyone dressed up. The company was very dry on their style. Some really annoying people around me made comments on the fact that I was over dressed...so I fell back into my comfort zone. A few times I dressed up people around me made similar comments like, "You clean up really well..."

I walked into a bar last night after a tired day and realized that I was there in my house tee, old jeans and Hawaii chappals. No, I am not a regular there. Yes, I was supremely under dressed. There was no one to take revenge on, no great occasion. Husband and I got the rare chance to grab a drink and eat a snack on our own. I was complacent in my attire. I realized that this is me, the under dresser. I never cared for it before to start now. I enjoy the one off compliment from my friends or acquaintances. I enjoy dressing up for the special occasions. I enjoy feeling special sometimes. There is more spice to it this way for me than to be made up all the time. This is me! A very comfy me.


With love,
The Under Dressed ART

Oh God! Why Me?

It was 12.30 in the noon and my friend and I ran frantically between one bus to another bus to get a seat aboard some decent A/C bus to take me to Chennai. I had finished my TOEFL exam in Bangalore and had spent an extra day in Bangalore thereby loosing my reservation on train and the only way to get back seemed to be on road. Which, of course was completely booked. We finally got a set on a Karnataka State Transportation bus which I think was the cheapest fare I had traveled in my entire life between Bangalore and Chennai. And I have done that trip a million times.

My friend who dropped me in the bus was hesitant and asked me many times if I could postpone my ticket for a couple of days. I wished I could but I had to be in Chennai that night so I could take my GRE exam the following day. I walked inside the bus dreading the journey but to my surprise I saw this girl who was my brother's classmate's cousin. We had met at a party and for some odd reason, we knew her parents well and her own brother was my junior in college. The minute I sat down next to her she said, "please don't tell my dad or brother or my cousin that you saw me on this bus." I promised her wondering what her secret was. Which I eventually found out through another friend. At least I had nothing to hide so I saw down feeling a bit better that I had company with me on a bus which had maybe another woman on board.

We chatted a while before each of us got absorbed in our silence, she was not like my best friend or very close to me. We obviously lived different lives, one in which I told my parents everything, well almost and never traveled away from home without informing my family. The journey seemed painless and we assumed that we would reach home early before sunset and I started to relax. I told myself that this was not as bad as it seemed and for Rs.30 I could not have asked for more.

When we got close to Tamilnadu-Karnataka (Hosur) border we heard a lot of noise outside and the bus came to a sudden halt. I did not think it was much to worry for a few seconds before a handful of men walked into the bus with such propriety you would think they owned the bus. They had heavy logs of wood in their hand and the famous South-Indian Veecharuva (sickle). They walked into the bus looking high and low and screaming, "if you are in here come out, you are not going to escape alive." They walked past us and then stopped by us for a few seconds, we were the only two young girls in the entire bus. The two of us bent down looking at our bags intently and did not dare look up till the bus moved again. I think my legs were jelly and my stomach was running at a higher rate than my heart. My friend and I held hands and did not let go for a few minutes. 

The entire bus heaved a sigh of relief but I can bet no one would have come to save us had they wanted to walk away with us. Phew! Thank God! 

When we got to Chennai, my friend reminded me one more time not to tell her family about seeing me. I don't think I met her after that day but I still remember the events so clearly...of course things happened in slow motion freaking the daylights out of me...so much for a non-exciting Rs.30 travel day!

So anyway, I write after reading https://www.facebook.com/GurgaonPolice/posts/511992945549788

I can imagine to a certain extent what each of them might have gone through. Fear is the same when you feel overpowered and unsafe in any situation. It takes a lot for anyone to put aside their life and stand up for anyone else. 

Anyways...thought I will share!

Love

ART

Summer Cleaning...

My plans to clean the house took a backseat when compared to my Korean drama. My love for Korean drama has changed into my love for Korea and everything Korean. There are days when I look at my insufferable Samsung phone and still feel happy that I am at least owning one Korean product...similar to what my favorite actors hold in their hand in my favorite shows...I also regret not buying a Korean car...but that is not about to change now...I am just crazy...crazy for Korea. So any how, now I am back to cleaning the house and I made so much space. There is a lot more space available than before but strangely I have not gotten rid of many things, just displaced them and relocated a few. I am slightly freaking out that I might forget where I kept what but that it for the day when I will be searching for something. In the next couple of days, if you do come to my house, ask me to give you a tour of my closets :) I also started a knitting project. I wanted to knit a skirt for Babs but that took a wrong turn and got twice the size of what it needed to be, so I had to undo everything and re-start...should be done before next week took. I hope I get to do some painting too, that is one thing I have not done since Sanjana was born other than random ones here and there. The past long weekend, we vegetated in the house. Babs said something that sounded so like G, "I want to stay at home and relax, don't want to go out." Scared me and G...she also reminded G to take his own dishes away as she was not his servant (something she picked up from me). We also saw Chillar Party together and really liked it, now Babs wants to see it everyday... Today after picking Babs up from school, we waited in the pick up lane at pharmacy when Babs said, "ahhh, chincha." That means ,"ahhh, really" in Korean. And she also said, "ne, majeyo, (yes, that is right)" when I asked her if she did not nap in the noon. Makes me happy that my daughter loves to learn languages as much as I do. Right now, so smitten by Korean (hanguko)... And today when my car showed that it was 99 outside, I know for sure that it is officially summer, a little late but thanks for the most awesomest spring ever. I really hope that in contrast to last year, this summer is beautiful. Hopefully I start blogging and tweeting more often...I need to

Shoes!

Last year in summer I mentioned to an ex-colleague of mine that I had close to 25 or 30 pairs of shoes and I never wear all of them. This colleague without mincing words said, "I really don't think you have as many pairs. I have never seen you wear anything but these black ones." Which is a lie because I have been complimented by this same person for my different footwear and of course it is all forgotten because I really abused my black heels. They were comfy, easy to find among my shoe mess, and just plain comfy to carry me around for a whole day.

Now that I am relaxing and enjoying my time at home, I decided to clean my shoe rack first. And to my surprise I found out that I have over 40 pairs of shoes including my boots, and sneakers. I am really hoping that this colleague reads my blog so that she can see the photo evidence. The fact that I still don't wear all of them remains to prove that I am a comfort junkie and as much as I like to dress up, I hate being uncomfortable. So the black shoe stays!

Consolidation of the majority shoes/sandals that I own.

My most favorite shoes and sandals. I wear them at any given opportunity.

The snake skin print is my fav stiletto. It rarely hurts but always looks good.

The one next to it in white, was in brand new condition when this photo was shot.

Now I have worn it once and I had owed this pair for a year before I wore it out. 

I am sad...I need help sometimes.

These three are my next most comfy shoes/sandals. I love the turquoise with brown stilettos. 

The light brown one with flower is so comfy that I can wear it for days without complaining.

The strapped heels make me happy.

In love with this Steve Madden that is so comfy but also a wedge. I normally hate

Wedges but this one is not so high and so easy to wear. 

Last but not the least my wedding sandals. They are gold, with gold rhinestones. 

What is not to love about it. I have it worn it so many times that it looks like this now.

Now after all these years I finally organized them into the over the door shoe rack. They sit there easy for me to wear and I am trying my best to wear different shoe each day and not to repeat them. I feel so bad for all the money that I have spent and not using the shoes. It also sucks that there are some sandals that I have never even wore once. I am going to change that this year. Looking forward for a shoe filled year.

I want to thank that ex-colleague of mine for motivating me to clean up the shoe closet and also for giving me a topic to write about.

Love
ART

Unabashed

The word unabashed is described as someone who is shameless.

In our daily life we walk past a lot of people who are super annoying and shamelessly draw attention to them self. These people when in close contact ruin your day for you. As much as you try it is difficult to keep them away. I know of one person who is unabashed and annoying. This person is the kind who will "fall into poop but come out smelling like a rose (as said by Megha)." They are the ones that make everything about themselves. And then they frustrate me into wasting precious words to make a post about them...see somehow it is always about them.

But without your existence my life would be boring...and for that I thank you!

Love
ART

Region Matters?

The other day I was having this discussion about cancer with my friend. She went on to tell about a friend of hers who got a type of cancer and told me, "I cannot believe, this guy, he is a non-smoker, a SOUTH INDIAN, a vegetarian got cancer."

I wondered how important was the regional reference? Is that how cancer chooses it's target?

Love
ART

My first ever project in my first year in Architecture school was to design a Children’s bedroom. We were given a room dimension and we had to add architectural as well as interior elements to make the room as kid friendly as possible. I chose to design a bed for the child that was built-in but slightly raised off the ground making it cozy while being adventurous. I don’t remember many other details now, fifteen years later, but I remember one thing. I wanted to add fluorescent stars and a moon stuck on the ceiling which would glow in the night when the lights are off. Seriously this was fifteen plus years ago when getting your hands on anything fluorescent in India was impossible. I loved that idea, to feel like you are sleeping under the sky. I don’t know if Babs will ever know what that is like, the feeling, the soft wind wiping your face now and then, the rays of the sun literally waking you up, ethereal, but I wanted to simulate that feel…when I was in school.

Yesterday as I lay in the room staring at the room with Babs tugging on my ear it came back to me. I saw the ceilings lit up, with stars. Stars that took over every surface in the room, small and big, constellation, it was the night sky in her room. My first year in architecture school came back to me. I went through college life in the few minutes I lay there waiting for her to drift away. Simple things in life trigger powerful emotions and hidden away memories, like an odd tune, or a color, a smell and this time for me it was seeing the stars on the ceiling. Something I had wanted to do so long ago and I had completely forgotten about it in the mad rush to make a life. It made me happy that at least one of my ideas have happened and my daughter was enjoying it, with me.

Unlike my fluorescent stars  These stars came out a turtle that projected stars in your room in the dark. I had used it for her first year and somehow it had gotten hidden behind the amount of toys that she had collected. Randomly a couple of weeks ago Babs had pulled it out her box and she wanted to know what it was. Together we played with it, changing colors, projecting it inside the comforter to have all the stars within our hands and then out into the room. It was fun and now has become a part of our daily "lying down with Babs before she sleeps" routine. I am loving it.

Love

Starry ART

Thank You

Friday evening both G and I were home from work at 5.10pm. We had no plans for the evening and nothing scheduled. Babs was with Pinki, her baby sitter and had plans to go swimming with them. We were asked to pick her up after 7.00pm. G and I sat down wondering what to do with the free time. His tennis plans got shelved as his partner had other plans.

So guess what we did? We went and played tennis. The last time I played any tennis was more than two years ago. I was just so happy to be on the court. G indulged me and I had a ball but I could not stand under the Texan sun for more than 40 minutes. I retired-tired. It was about 102F that day and I am sure standing on the concrete court it was more than that. We were both sweaty and nasty when we got out and drove straight to a Starbucks. Another thing we had not done in maybe five years.

G and I sat down, had a cold coffee each chatting about our life so far, politics, Babs, future, random stuff and we finally got the call from Pinki letting us know that they were back home. We had finally spent some alone time together, it was about three hours in all but enough to charge us up for the rest of the year.

There are lots of things we learn from becoming a parent, one of those is appreciating the small ways in people around us help. If not for people like Pinki, Pooja, and Anitha then raising Babs while still working in a country where G and I have to do everything (cook, clean, fold clothes, etc) and with G falling sick as well would have been a nightmare. So, I want to thank everyone, my baby sitter's, my friends and family for making my life fun.

Thank You,

ART

Fifth of July 2000

I landed in Kansas. I was so tired after travelling around half the world on empty stomach that I was ready to crash anywhere and everywhere. I had thrown up pretty much everything I had eaten in installments. I was one of those annoying co-passengers holding a vomit bag to my mouth. So anyway, I had met Ashok and Santy at my Port of Entry in Chicago Airport and spent a couple of hours with them before heading to Kansas and I was ready to meet my brother. After I landed I was busy fighting with the cart machine not reading the instructions that asked me to deposit a dollar bill. I reasoned to myself that if it was free in Chicago it should be in Kansas too right? When I looked up I saw my brother intently looking around the baggage claim area trying to spot me. The two of us quickly hugged, picked bags, he made fun of me, and we were off in his convertible Pontiac to his bachelor pad.

Two minutes into the drive I asked my brother, "So this is America? This it is? That's all?" My brother nodded excited. I looked around at the empty land on either side of I-435 and a tear came down my cheek. "Can I go back to India? I know it is expensive but I will pay it all back once I start earning," I begged my brother. My brother freaked out. He had no idea how to handle a crying sister who was hit by home sickness already. I had barely stepped off the flight. And the more I saw of Kansas City the more I wanted to cry. I missed Chennai, my family, my friends, my house, my car, my everything, I wanted to go back to all of them and I was not sure I wanted to be in America any more.

We got to his apartment and for the first time in my life I was locked in an elevator car with a couple making out next to us. Both me and my brother were super uncomfortable waiting for the elevator to reach the tenth floor. After I saw my brother's studio apartment I was even more disappointed. I wanted my house and my room!!!! My brother assured me that in a few days we would drive to South Dakota, pick up my SIL and then move into a bigger apartment but that did not help much because my brother sucked at cooking. The food he had cooked for me made me cry for mother even harder.

For no reason (well actually there was) or rhyme, I cried for more than two weeks. I would go to my brother's school, chat online with my friends in Chennai sobbing non-stop. Then my brother took me on my first long distance drive from Kansas to South Dakota and things changed from there. We had a great time. The drive was fun and meeting my SIL and eating good food helped me a lot. Following that trip my brother and I visited Kansas State Univ. my Alma-Mater to be and I got excited. I think about this time my tears were all dried up and I was ready to start school and my new life. And by this time I had also seen my future-husband so everything was in place, life was in motion.

That was ten years ago and today I am ashamed to confess that I have been back to India only twice in the last ten years. My memories are of a Chennai that only me and people from my generation will remember and I can never forget them! Ever! They are mine for keeps!

Kick!

And I want to write something down. I am tired. Babs is sick again. I have a dentist appointment and life goes on.

I made breakfast this morning for work. It was my turn for the breakfast club at work. I made a frittata and a huge fruit bowl. I will put the recipe for the frittata on the girlsgonecookin.wordpress.com website soon. I made one mid-size tray and two mini ones. I sent one with G for his work, kept one for safety and the mid-size one and fruit bowl came to work with me. All is well.

I almost took the day off this morning because Babs had a fever the whole night but both her baby sitter and G told me not to worry about it unless the temperature runs high. AG, my colleague picked up the breakfast for me from home while I dropped Babs and came to work.

Like everyone wants to know how sucky my day was.

Anyways, I am watching the Telugu movie Kick, finally. I say finally because there is a funny story.

I do not know to read or write Telugu. I can only speak the language and I love the language but cannot write it. Dad tried three times to teach me and all three times I did not go past A and Aa. Learning to write Tamil was a necessity because I lived in Chennai but Telugu was just a luxury which I could live without happily.

Anyway, coming back to my story. I went to the store, asked for Kick, the guy handed me a DVD that said Kick written on it. Came home, saw the movie, it was decent, time pass and I was happy that I had seen the very popular movie.

Next day, I am talking to another Telugu friend to whom I proudly mentioned that I saw Kick and it was decent. He asked me, "so you like Ravi Teja?"

"No, I think he is ugly and old. But how does that matter, Kick has Allu Arjun in it."

He laughed and said, "nope, Kick has RT in it and Illeana."

I argued saying that he saw the wrong movie, "I should know, I saw the movie."

"What is the story."

I told him the synopsis.

"That movie is Parugu."

I was stunned. I had seen an entire movie thinking it was another movie. Had only I known to read Telugu, this mistake could have been averted, although I always fast forward the first 10 minutes. I was super embarrassed. I went to the store and demanded a return.

So, I am half way through watching Kick. I still cannot stand Ravi Teja. He is way too ugly, and old and Illeana is cute and such a mismatch for him. So when I finish it off, I will write more on the movie.

I have few other movies to watch over the weekend and hopefully I will have enough time. This is the first weekend in many when I have absolutely no plans and hopefully I will make the best use of it. Also, I pray and hope that Babs will get better soon and that I can take her out tomorrow if the weather permits.

With all that said.

I am signing off

ART

Compliments and Me!

I suck at receiving compliments. I know some people who are really in control of the situation when someone throws a compliment their way and handle it all poised and nice...and then there is me. I say that because everytime I get a compliment I do one of the following or worse:

• I blush, smile and avoid the person the rest of the day lest I burst the bubble that the person saw me through.
• I say, "me? really? no way...you are not looking right, I actually have a flat nose"
• or I say, "ya, but yours is better." and then get into an argument as to why I suck and go about proving it.
• or I am surprised, shocked and look embarassed that someone noticed and complimented.
• or I do something silly to make the person wonder why they ever told me anything at all.

Do any of you have that problem? Or is it just me??!!!

Love

ART