I am back! Mummy Returns or Terminator 2 whatever you want to call it.

Mummy Returns or Terminator 2 whatever you want to call it, but I am back. And I am here to stay this time, hopefully.

I am bored of sounding all professional, smart and right all the time on other platforms and want a place to vent out. So, time to rethink about my poor abandoned blog.

So, one might ask what have I been busy with? I started a small content management startup with a small team and we are taking small projects to write big words for small startups and try to make them sound and look bigger than they really are. See, I did it again! Started selling and saying wise words again. But, will get better as I write more here.

Writing for money is a vicious circle. You start writing for clients and brands and the next thing you know is that everything you write should add to your portfolio. It should have a way of taking you somewhere in the rat race. It should mean something to the audience, add value to the brand and write boring, mindless even mind-numbing crap. (I hope none of my clients are in my circle here and I hope this article doesn’t go viral for them to be able to reach and chuck me). 

Everything you write should be a marketing tool, but very subtle, ofcourse. You should not be blasting on the loudspeaker with your words for clients, but at the end of everything you write should include a link to where they buy what you just promoted, subtly. Everything around us is marketing. It caught your eye because it was marketed well and secondly because it was good. But marketing all it is. Brands might not have money to research more, but they want to market.

I can make a whole separate blog, not just one article about how marketing is subconsciously washing us. And it starts from the very top, our Govt parties are getting bigger by the claims they make on marketing and media platforms. So I’ll leave that for another time, maybe for some other accha din.

Lot has happened, family-vise since. No, not one more born, by the grace of God. But, Brownie has turned into a Bundt cake and Oreo has turned into a Cookie monster. So that’s what we will call them now on. When I reflect at the names that I had given them initially, brownie and cookie, it is like I saw this coming. Their personalities had casted a shadow long back.

Why bundt cake, you ask! Because it has no centre. It is whole, but with a hole. It is sugar coated on the top, but with a hole. Something is missing, the hole, I think is with her friends. That is what everything is about, now-a-days, Friends. They are always right. They are omnipresent. And they have more friends.

And the cookie monster, wouldn’t even spare digestive biscuits or Threptin at home. No matter how many boxes of new ones you get, food you make, fruits you buy and healthy snack you yell, the cookie just crumbles. He wipes his mouth, burps loudly and smiles with the empty box at me.

And the one that I married to, is not improving!  

I have been itching to make a comeback, but didn’t get any good script so far. I have been reading scripts for a while now, but nothing seems to be good enough when you are gone for 3 years. So I decided to just write about why and where I was gone. And then be able to vent meaningless and angry stuff here.  

The Diwali ki Safai

I was sitting on the sofa with my laptop, catching up on my latest social media notifications and stories, when my phone rang. With my eyes still fixed on my laptop, I stretched my hands to pick up the phone.

It started with the basic niceties of a typical call from close relative, without the slightest hint of how this routine call would drift to become the dreaded call of the season.

“Have you started off with the Diwali safai?”

“Hain”, my eyes popped out and jaw dropped. Is it that time of the year again? So soon?

I placed a hand on my heart and said “All is well. All is well”.

I had almost forgotten the call until that day. One of the whatsapp groups forwarded a pic displaying hundreds of gold bars, silver crockery , bundles of notes lying on the ground and a message saying that we have just started with the diwali clean up. And the idea of diwali cleaning came back to haunt me.

I had to come with a fake yet original answer quickly to satisfy all the soon-to-come calls of concerned family members, asking me the status of my “safai abhiyaan”.

Diwali clean up is a serious social issue. The weaker sections of the society, not capable of spotting a single spider web, hint of dust behind the doors and aliens residing in the kitchen cabinets feel the sudden pressure from the maid-equipped, calendar minding and bragging sections of the society.

If you are brave, you might answer, “No, I shall not.”

But the weak hearted like me, hide behind the excuses like, kids exam time, or we just moved in here, or we are about to move out of this house or I will start later because I am fast.

I know I need to be more creative and less repetitive. I want to rather say, “Why don’t you ask the husband?” or “I’ll do it when its off-season for the maids and they are relieved from other houses?” or maybe “The forecast says it will not be sunny this whole week, so why bother giving everything up in the sunshine?” or “By the time I finish the herculean task, the first thing I finished cleaning will be the same as it was when I started. Don’t you think so?” or maybe “I finished everything already when the PM launched the Swachh Bharat Abhiyan. Under his mantra “Na gandgi karenge aur na karnedenge”, my home is ever so clean.”

You can dodge every question unless your mom is on the other end of the line. Every season, I tell her that you should ask me this question when there is enough time for me to finish what I start. And every season she answers that she was busy cleaning up and a homemaker should know better. I have to tell her the truth. I confess and beg her to come down after she has rushed up with hers. Maybe that’s the reason she never tells me well in advance, or I’ll make her come down to my place in real. I tell her it’s hard. It’s unfair for a single person to clean up what has been messed by the whole family. It’s unending. Its cruel.

And she tells me all over again, how cleaning up will bring good luck. She tells me, how this is a way to clean up atleast once a year. And how it is a way to make sure you give up what you haven’t used for the whole year. It’s her way of telling me to go through all my stuff once and avoid pressing the panic button when something is to be quickly located.

Its remarkable how firm the roots of safai are in the hearts of moms and how they struggle and stumble in imbibing the same in their children every year.

Yet every next call that I get, the pressure mounts as the frequency of being asked and bragging gains momentum. Next month or two, feels just like the exam preparatory days in school. Remember those days when the smarter ones used to call to tease the hardworking yet slow ones.

“How much course have you finished yet, my dear” asks the one friend who enjoys others pain.

“I don’t know yaar. I haven’t touched most of it yet. And what ever I had finished seems like a new chapter to me now.” I reply wiping my forehead and sit down as I lose the ground under me.

“Haha. You’re funny. Don’t worry you will be fine. Don’t go by my standards”, come the words that stabbing-friend for who this call is more like a stress buster and entertainment.

The only difference between now and then, is that I used to take the insult to heart and buckle up to work harder. But now, I think.

Happy Dussehra!

Classification of WhatsApp Groups

Whatsapp is officially as much a part of our lives as the morning newspaper. It might not serve the purpose as much as twitter and facebook, taking a sneak peek into others lives, but it surely connects you to people you call your loved ones, at least you call them loved ones on their faces.

But not all the groups get your attention in the same way as others. You have a hierarchy in which you choose to check your messages and that tells the priority of that group in your life. Agree?

So here is my classification of Whatsapp groups according to my degree of love-hate relationship with them, not particularly in the same order though-

1. Relatives aka Happy Bday group – Now what would you write in a group that you know that your uncles and aunts are part of too. So all I do in these groups is either wish Happy Bday, Anniversary, Congratulations, Best wishes after being reminded 50 times by other members. Or forward some religion specific forwards to tell them that I too am religiously involved and active (even if that means actively forwarding and being forwarded religious stuff in other groups).

2. Kids School Moms aka Guilt Trip group – Oh this one is a scary group and never ever fails to remind me how scrappy I am as a mom. Most of the moms here are super active at all times. If the kid is late from school by 5 min, they start questioning and reporting about the traffic status on the roads these days. If the kid was absent from school that day, they start inquiring about the homework right from when the other kids start for school and are a good 10 hours away from returning back home. Everything from school toilets to tips and tricks for raising kids well, is discussed every day, every minute here. I know they mean well and are great moms, but they never cease to surprise me. And you haven’t heard the worst yet. The exam time is when the moms are most nervous and they make sure it reflects in the number of messages they send on this group. Question paper, model test papers, number of pages in the question paper, who finished the paper first, which apps to download for educational play time, how many mosquitoes were there in school, how many leaves teacher takes and post pictures of completed home work is all well covered and under control here. Oh gosh, I feel better venting that out.

3. Siblings’ aka Most Beloved group – Now this is the group that I can never miss being part of any conversation. We might not message on a daily basis, but know that if I message in distress it will be heard immediately and I won’t be left alone until I feel better. We make fun of each other and then suddenly say the exact same words when it concerns our parents. Its because we connect at a different level and always know that we will never be misunderstood. Love you guys!

  

4. Out of touch Friends aka Forwards group – What is the best way to keep in touch when you don’t have anything to say? Its simple, you forward messages. You can still show that you care, by forwarding the relevant and newest forwards. If you don’t overdo the forwarding, chances are you will always stay in touch with even your school friends. I do have my doubts if this kind of staying in touch does good to anyone, but then again what’s there to lose. The worst that might happen is that they might decide to walk out of the group and your link will be dead (again), but then you were already out of touch, remember.

5. Crib Friends group aka unloading – There are times when you just want to hear “Yes, Me Too!”, “Stay calm, this too shall pass!” or “You need a coffee, come home”. This is the group where I text just to hear these words, not any advice, no side effects but just for them to raise their hands to mark their presence that we are sailing in the same boat and hold hands.

6. Stupid Marketing groups aka Ignore – 99% of the times I don’t want to be a part of these groups. But that 1% of the time, when I really want to buy some stuff and have nowhere to go and have no clue what’s trending, they come right to the rescue. You sometime can’t exit from the group because you even know the person often and want to just avoid that awkward moment when you meet again in person.

Do you agree with me? 

Freelancing - Art of earning without stressing! Tips and Secrets Revealed

So like me, you were duped by the fake term too - Freelancing!

Well, I only tricked you into reading this post with a catchy title when I was tricked into leaving behind my glorious corporate career (not that I really had one in years, but atleast had a chance).

The word Freelancing means different things to different people. But to me, as a freelancer, what it meant earlier is quite different from what it means now.

I saw it as a fancy word for contractors, working on and off while still adding numbers to their years of experience. But once you work as a freelancer yourself, you realize that you have not been missing out on something sane in life.you aya young heartperience and xperience and erring t door library to tely help you feel good about your

What my mom thinks- My Mom is the really innocent. She thinks I am the best multi-tasking, new age, oh-so talented person, whom people want to employ even when I deny coming to office. Every time she calls me, she says, “I hope you were not busy or I can call later. Nothing so important that can’t wait.” And I reply honestly, “I have all the time in the world for you Mom”.

What my husband thinks – Mr husband thinks, there is no work pressure. Really? I think he gets it from here -

no peers = no peer pressure = no work pressure – logic

And if I am saving a lot of time on travel, I can invest that time in either making the house into home and devote more time to other funny things like, cleaning up the collar better, hand wash the new t-shirts that become not-so-soft and wrinkly after machine spin and wash (when he can simply invest in teddy bears and wear them to office in different colours) or make projects for kids before he returns from home or kids return from school. Night is the time for best undivided concentration, and so I should be putting on my eye glasses and owl night suit to work on office stuff without yelling to lower down the volume of TV.

What my friends think – My friends and well wishers think I am absolutely out of work. No in-business corporate will hire me and I am too insecure to label myself as un-employed. So what do I do, I go and change the title of my resume from Full-Time Employee to Freelancer. Not only that, if someone asks, what is my CTC, I have no one-word or a five digit number. Freelancer is a way to complicate your status gracefully. While trying to mislead the new generation of get-back-to-work-moms I tell them that Freelancing is the glorified form of part-time-work-from-home crap. While actually all I do is ask people to trust me that I will work honestly, not charge them unduly, will be available to talk and meet as need be and yes I have a Linked-In profile too.

What my kids think – My kids think freelancing job(not that they understand the term , but the way I work) gives me the an earned right to Facebooking at any time. Dad goes to office, so when he comes back from office we all need to ask him, how was your day, what did you bring back for us and why you don’t have enough leaves to take us out on a vacation? But me, me they ask, can we have some more of the ice-cream? Why can’t you work later and go to the park with us now? Can you make aaloo parantha for dinner today? Why did you forget to send my textbook to school today? Can you take a picture of my blocks rocket that I made?

So what I actually think – Freelancing work may sound all fancy and an alternate world with freedom from suffocating cubicles and flexibility to enjoy healthy work-life balance. But that is just day 1.

Freelancing comes with its own set of trouble. You may not be answerable to your boss, true. But you are actually juggling clients, who can more often than not just pain in the neck.

Discipline is hard, especially it is self imposed. Believe me, it is easier to wear formals with office ID around your neck and swipe card to maintain the 9 hour office duty. But if you are struggling to maintain a routine and if things can be postponed to later, chances are, they will be postponed to later.

I am always on the look out for a client which also means I am always negotiating. As if negotiating with kids over healthy eating and taking bath daily wasn’t enough to make my life exciting.

And if by chance, you add the word “remote” to the word “freelancer”, it makes the perfect recipe for insanity. When you are talking to a potential client about the possibility of working together, you happen to mention the word, “remote”. It changes the whole equation. “Oh you are a freelancer (to be interpreted as, “good! We won’t have to pay for your insurance”). Sure we are up for it.” Somewhere at the end of a sentence, I add “remote”, so that it can be easily go unnoticed. But the word always gets the due attention, “Oh you mean, we will not know whether you are working or not? But we wanted someone who sits close to the manager. We are sorry, we don’t do that.”

It’s a tiring job to manage yourself, when you are someone who doesn’t listen to your head all the time. Being in control and bossing yourself, is more difficult.

You haven’t heard the best yet. After all this, asking the client to clear your bills, over and over again makes me sometimes wonder who’s money is it that I am asking for, anyway? You asked for creativity, I did it. You asked for re-edits, I did it. You asked for plagiarism free, I did it. You asked for proof-reading, I did it. So why can’t you pay me the money I asked for. I said freelancer not volunteer.

In all this I forgot to mention, I still love freelancing and would highly recommend it. Because I am the boss and enjoying the best of both worlds, It sure is difficult, but who said difficult can't be fun.

Happy Freelancing!

5 Reasons Why I love Driving in India

If you drive in India and make a statement like this, people are surely going to doubt your sanity. You either have to be a crazy I-love-traffic-kind-of-person they show in Ads these days. Or probably are in college and have a girlfriend to sit behind/besides you.

But I have my reasons for validating it - 

1. Honk at will. Everyone here thinks, only they see the red light turn green and shoulder the responsibility of informing of all other lazy heads. Honk to wake all other drivers to green signal. Sometimes, or rather at most times, if someone has honked it means they are in a hurry, assume they have an invisible red light mounted on their car and thus should be given the right to jump ahead of you magically. But mind you, like dogs barking, honking can have different meanings in different contexts and you should apply common sense, not logic to decode it. If an autowala honks at you incessantly, it does not always mean he is trying to make a pass at you. It sometime also means that he might just be asking you what time of hour it is or informing you that your dupatta is stuck in the car door. So caution is advised to understand the meaning of honk before applying your vocal skills and abusive language to god use

.

2. Yellow traffic light means, don’t slow down yet. You see a yellow light somewhere, it feels like there is an opportunity, it has a small window, and if you don’t hurry up, you will lose it. You feel the sense of urgency, the need to act fast instead of slowing down. Accept the challenge and drive faster.

3. If you are a girl and know how to say “Please Bhaiya” correctly, chances are people will even park your vehicle for you. People are kind enough to offer you free tips, “thoda left, thoda left”, “nahin nahin thoda aur kaato”. Unless there is an emergency and your life depends on it, you can get most work done with those two magic words.

4. GPS or no GPS you will find your way. People go out of their way to make sure you have understood where you need to go. There are hundreds of videos and news articles of how people ignore someone needing medical attention on the road. But if you need to get your directions right, there is no need to panic and consume your mobile data pack by putting the navigation on. They might not really know the correct directions, but they will ask someone for you or give you incorrect directions, but they will not let your hope die.

5. You rule the roads here. In true words, mere baap ki road hai. You see someone is trying to cross the roads, without getting to the zebra crossing (ofcourse there are no zebra crossing, but you are on the other side of the table and are driving). What do you do? You drive faster. Because its your right of way and no-one, not even that little angel on the shoulder can take it from you (except the traffic policeman ofcourse). So if you see someone trying to cross the roads and mock at your speed, you need to teach them a lesson by speeding up and scaring the hell out of them.

I Eat and Cheat! I Lie and Deep Fry!

This time I was determined that I will follow the diet strictly and lose weight.

“I have had enough with the excess weight”, I said to myself. I have been carrying around the baby weight with love, years after delivering. The younger offspring is 3.5 years old and I still haven’t thrown the maternity jeans away.

This was a proof enough to jolt me out, but what really served as a wake up call were incidents like when my FB pics stopped getting as many likes, the kids teacher stopped taking notice of what I am wearing and found myself constantly bitching about the friend who had miraculously lost weight overnight.

I always take serious note when people tell me about their weight loss journey and secretly follow the most trending diet plans online. So I had found myself a diet that works (theoretically or on other people) and decided to give it a try. Losing weight cannot be so hard, I keep telling myself.

But after the first day, the logical thinking seems to question the motivation. And the weighing machine seems to be taking revenge because it has been overworked and doesn’t seem to reflect the weight change.

So here are the after-effects and after-thoughts of 2 days of dieting and mental toll –

1. I am always hungry and I tell you, its not a pleasant feeling. Why doesn’t eating just veggies and fruits make you full? Not a difficult question now is it?

2. It gave me a sense of understanding why there are so many foods and recipes around. They all have a meaning and a reason in life. (I think I see the deeper meaning of every food with empty stomach). Pakodas are meant to keep you warm on the rainy days and soups can’t replace it. Just like paav bhaji is meant to clean up all the left over veggies in the fridge and the same veggies will not make a good salad because they are mostly rotten.

3. Now I know exactly what thy neighbors cook, whether they add curry leaves or onion in the tadka or how deep frying potatoes smell different from frying poories.

4. I have officially become the veggie terminator/ “veggienasur” of the house. If I am not eating, you can find me shopping for the veggies/ fruits or chopping them. It definitely takes a lot of buying and a fridge weight to lose weight.

5. Weekend binging. What would you do if you are at a buffet table and the waiter keeps asking, would you like to try this kebab, and some kachori, with a sugary drink, after some paneer tikka. Would you like to try our signature dish? Should I say no and break his heart? I look around the table and everyone is munching and gobbling in peace. Nobody cares about the bloody oil and calories here. Why should I be left alone in the struggle? I too am going to have a good time and try every piece of sweet on the buffet, I thought. After all I am paying for the complete thali, so why not try the shrikhand, gulab jamun, ice-cream, some barfi and cake. It can’t change my fate, now can it?

6. I have a new perspective towards everything. Anything and everything can be measured in calories. If you see a little healthy person on the road, you calculate. If the husband is putting some extra bhujia over poha, it is being looked down upon. If I have to go and pick up kid from bus bay, I put the fitness app on to calculate the steps I have taken and how far away I am from my goal. Everything can now be quantified and takes you closer or farther from your goal.

7. Can you really prepare a nice meal for the family and then go eat your soup? I sniff and sob in a quiet corner with my bowl of soup. A husband once vowed that we are in together for better or for worse. But the truth is that, you are alone. Only you can burn your calories and no arguments can ever convince him to support and workout together.

What is better – a little cheating or giving up? This is a big question, I know. But I think a little cheating does less damage than giving up. (Don’t ask me the same question and expect the same answer in my kid’s presence.) So over and above the diet plan, I had 2 cups of tea, eat a little breakfast, eat cookies and tell everyone, no I am not dieting.

One fine day, when someone will ask me how I managed to lose so much weight, I will get a chance to speak out the rehearsed answer, “Oh really! Have I lost weight? It must have just melted away from taking care of family and working hard.”

So what do you think? I would love to hear back your experience and thoughts. 

"Working From home" Not "Working For Home"

 

Once upon a time I dared to tell my maid that you are late. She replied while still checking whatsapp messages on her mobile, “The other madam was getting late for office, so she asked me to finish work at her place first.” I almost crushed the tea cup with my clenched fists like Singham in anger, pain and shock. I didn’t know I was capable of reflecting so many emotions at one point of time. What caused the emotional overflow was that, not even my own maid considers my working from home as actually working and the work flexibility cascades down even to her, without my consent, ofcourse.

Its not about the maid (only), it’s the general attitude. If I am working from home, I am working for home, that’s what THEY think.

It takes a lot of discipline, concentration and letting go, to sit down and work when the circus activities of the home never cease to carry you along. It’s a mad house and its easy to get weighed down by it at times. But I chose this.

I chose a different work style, this is the choice I made for myself and my family. Everyone is different, their priorities are different, their family requirements are different and so are there opinions about work. But does this give anyone the right to question someone’s career or look down upon them?

I have to myself, some short intervals to work with full focus i.e. from 10am -12 noon and thereafter from 1pm – 4pm. If I miss that, I have to put on horse blinkers and some ear plugs to get back to work with a lot of motivation from husband and threatening from the clients.

It’s a constant struggle to strike a balance between work and home. My brain is overworking all the time. Its like, let me soak the daal now, so that it can sit for a while before I finish writing the client mail. Why is that LPG delivery guy not here yet? Just one call will not harm anything and then get back to work with a single track mind.

I agree that you do have a domestic mind working behind the professional mind all the time. But does that mean I am not doing justice to each one of them? Does that give you the right to think any less of me or my working style? Should I care about what you think? Or am I just seeking some respect from both the worlds?

Here is a glimpse of my daily struggle, challenges and conflicts while WFH–

1. I am always in my PJs – The iron-man (not that iron-man, silly, the press-waala guy) thinks I am saving on precious money. The neighbors think I am always sleeping. My kids ask me, “Are we going out”, if I am dressed otherwise. “Is someone coming”, husband remarks. And me, I think, they are most comfortable, no fuss, wrinkle-free and all season wear.

  There is not motivation to dress better. Forget the husband; he has absolutely no clue if I am wearing a Chanel or Jockey, i.e. if I do.

2. People come and go and I am always working – It just never ends. When you do not have any strict working hours, you don’t need to swipe in and out of office, you are playing every possible role at the same time, there is no one monitoring your screen from behind, you get little distracted at times. But then you work overtime to makeup for the loss.
3. No meal but always snacking - Eating has become a way to take a break. I am always opening the kitchen cabinets, looking for that one last thing to eat. I eat on the sofa, work on the bed and listen to music on the dining table while keeping a watch on the maid from the corner of my eye.
4. Panic if I need to get out in the middle of the day- No, its true. There is a checklist that I need to tick off, before stepping out. Bath – check. Change of clothes – check. Sniff test for clothes I am wearing– check. Comb hair – check. Kids disarmed – check. Call husband to tell him about my will if I don’t return, ever – check. Mobile Data working – check. House keys – check. I am cutting the list short here, for the sake of brevity.
5. Forget free office parties, say goodbye to good feedback reviews and RIP pay hikes.
6. Flexibility is a universal thing – Flexibility as a freelancer to work anytime anywhere means a lot of things to a lot of people. Some people, like one husband, Day 1 (of 5 working days in a week) – Can you please renew car insurance? Day 2 – Can you check on that plumber? Day 3 – Can you drop by at school for Parent-Teacher meet. Day 4 – Can you give directions to the delivery guy that is coming to drop by some office package? Day 5- Can you research online about which is the best mobile in market these days?
7. Network issues when office calls. This is a serious problem. Whenever some client or office tries to reach me, I am unreachable. So they assume that I am backpacking on the trails of Kerala or watching a movie in some remote theater. But if I am in the bathroom or missed the ring, the kids are the first to jump up and answer the phone. Not only they say that mom is taking a loo break, but they take turns to talk to the other person and cutely engage them for over 20 min or until the client disconnects. It is not just embarrassing and so unprofessional. It re-establishes the boss’s faith in you forever.

Its awesome and terrible!

Reflections of turning 35! Its about celebration and not age

I turned 35 recently. Calls, messages, gifts, bouquets, hugs and dinner, every cue I had subtly (yet loudly) dropped had been picked up to satisfy my birthday greed and I completely enjoyed it. Oreo and Brownie might not have been very happy with the adult ways of birthday celebration with no return gifts, magician, balloons or games, but what do they know.

But after the birthday celebrations were over, the reality of moving towards the late 30’s struck me. There are times when I tend to forget how old I am, like reciting Twinkle Twinkle when rolling chapatti (because that’s what I hear most often) or applying Barbie nail paint that Brownie sometimes allows me to borrow. But when I am asked over and over again with each birthday blessing call (disguised as an age reminder call), it is difficult to ignore the big number.

Did I say ignore, how can I ignore when my offsprings have a no-snooze-age-reminder setup loaded for me. They keep running back from park, yelling

“Sorry, how old are you, you said?” Oreo said, back from a discussion with friends and all-ears-moms around.

“35”, I am yelling again.

“Its easy to remember you know Oreo. You are 3, I was 5 until recently and so Mom is 3 and 5 together. That is 35. Its easy”, said an over excited Brownie.

Voila, what an impromptu trick. I should have appreciated it but the number carried me away. Number that keeps ticking in my head like a time bomb. 35! 35! 35! I keep reminding myself its just a number. But when I try remembering what I did in those 35 years that just poofed away, all I see is grey hair, extra kilos and stretch marks that stand as a testimony to something wise I must have done.

So here I am taking a retrospective look at the past years, in a typical Now and Then table format -

Who I was 20 years back – Ancient history	Now
I weighed 44kgs, loved the mirror and fitted clothes	I might have been fighting a losing battle with the weighing scale but I am proud of all the stretch marks, the bulges, the flab, the double chin and the ever-pregnant belly. I carry it with pride like an injured soldier with his scars (whatever that means)
Never a topper in class or sports	Always a topper in class and every other field for that matter, if you ask my kids
Love (as misled by movies) meant, being good friends, romantic dinners, hand holding, surprise gifts and late night chats.	Now I love to swipe the credit card, call him for OTP and later end up paying cash on delivery for the purchase husband made for himself. I also ask him to save receipts of rare gifts he gets me so I can shamelessly exchange them later.
My Mom is a little drama queen when she said, 4 kids are too much, so I thought	Managing 2 small and 1 adult kid with tantrum throwing maids, can give you 5 grey hair everyday.
Good day meant a bowl of ice-cream	Good day means good bowel and a novel
Best food is found in expensive restaurants	My Mom’s food is the best. My kids have been not so lucky but then they have their Nani to look up to.
Oh how I wished for a TV or PC in the bedroom	A separate entertainment room with a lock where I can sit with my invisibility cloak on.
30 minutes in the bathroom were never enough	Bath, afternoon nap and combing hair, you can’t have it all in one day
Periods were the bad days of the month	They are good days when you actually have a reason to say no to lot of things
Outsourcing meant, job opportunities	Now it means a way to get away with boring and repetitive house chores
Shopping was for the ones with the luxury of money	Shopping is a necessity and meant for the ones with the luxury of time.
Track pants meant night wear	They are all day comfort wear and easily available in all shapes and sizes
All I ever wanted was 20,000 bank balance and small low maintenance apartment	I wish I can have a big villa, where I can grow my own weed and live happily ever after
Hated school	Love school as it means time away from kids and memories of good old days
TV meant MTV	TV means answering Dora’s dumb questions

You might think I am materialistic, mean and rather 53 years old. But the truth is that I now know, better than ever, what I want to be and who I am. My mantra for life has changed. One short life, forgive, let go and live it. Don't hold everything so tightly, let go! 

Somethings in me haven’t changed at all, like I still keep hinting everyone about the upcoming birthday and mandatory gifts. I am still greedy and super excited about my birthday, even though husband would keep trying to pull me back to reality and insists it is only meant for kids.

But there are times when I surprise myself like how I slow down around my kids, how I end up calling my mom everyday and enjoy a hot cup of tea with newspaper on Sundays.  I don’t feel like I am missing anything if I am not going out on the weekends. I never knew how well I could yell until I became a mom. I can also act well now, when the moment after yelling I turn around and beg my maid to do some more work at barely audible pitch and folded hands.  

There are lots of things that I still want to learn like salsa dancing, surf boarding and patience. But not everything anymore. I expected too much and gave back too little. I have finally understood that husband and I are at opposite end of the lover’s spectrum and deeds speak louder than words or gifts (views and opinions are my own, believe me).