Tuesday, 17 January 2012

To my son as he turns 1 and a 1/2

Dear Son,

I sit and sip my second hazelnut delight. I have run away from home for a while because you were driving me insane. I feel like a horrible mother. But there are things I need you to know.

I am going to try my damnedest, hardest best to do right by you. To give you a stable, secure present and future. To give you love and understanding. To be a friend and a mother. To teach you the right things. To help you achieve your immense potential.

I will always try to keep you happy. And I will always, always no matter what, love you. You need to know and remember that.

But there will be times when I will fail you. I may not be there when you need me. I may not be there in the way you need me to be. I may shout at you. I may not understand you. I may hurt your feelings. I may be more mother and less friend.

Those times my son, my love, be patient with me. Know that I may be your mother but I am also fallible.

I am overwhelmed at times by the responsibility I have undertaken. I don't know whether I can give you everything I want to, everything you deserve. Sometimes I want to run away. To not have to worry about you every moment of every day.

But I can't. I won't. You are a part of me sweetheart, as no one else ever will be. You make me a better person. You push me to be my best. You make me who I am.

So let's take this journey together baby. Let's lean on each other and be the best we can be.

I wish you happiness, love and peace. You are my truest love, my life.

Always, always yours


A letter to my husband

Our son played 'our' song on my mobile today morning. As I heard Kailash Kher sing I realized I hadn't thought about you in a while.

It's been more than a month since you left. I had thought it'll be terribly difficult but it isn't. My world hasn't stopped. I still go out. I still eat. I still work. I function. I don't need you anymore. And that scares me. I'm used to needing you. I'm used to my life being incomplete without you. But it isn't. Where does that leave us?

I thought I would miss you terribly. Pine away counting the days to your return as I did every other time, even when I knew you were with someone else. But I don't miss you anymore. I don't think of you every time I watch a romantic movie. I don't think of you when I need a hug. I don't picture you when I envision my future. So, where does that leave us?

I always thought of us. I planned for us. But I don't anymore. I think of me. I plan for me. So is there still an us?

I have no answers and I'm not looking anymore for the answers to that question.

I want to know about me now. Who I am. Where I'm going. What makes me happy.

I am learning to take care of myself. To say that I have a right to be happy. I'm not just a wife. I'm a woman. An intelligent, generous, kind, confused one. I'm working my ass off to earn my freedom.

It's overwhelming. And I feel alone. I often feel like a bad mother. But I'll figure it out. I know I have it within me. I will carry on and I will do it with panache.

So, I release you. Thank you for teaching me, touching me, changing me. Some of who I am today is because of you. Go in peace and happiness. I hope you find love, for yourself and another. And I hope the same for myself.

Goodbye my husband.

Wednesday, 11 January 2012

I wouldn't mind being rich

I come from humble roots. My great-grandfather was a station master. The future generations mostly civil servants. I grew up being told that money didn't matter, happiness was important. There was a big premium on being a good person. A good person being defined as someone who thought of others, did more for others than for themselves etc etc. To the extent that we were told not to fraternise with the "business community" because they had no scruples or values.

I married a 'baniya'. Now any Indian worth his salt knows this community doesn't part easily with money. So the facts that clothes don't matter, we must rough it out on trips, expensive restaurants are a waste of money and gifts are unnecessary were reinforced for me.

So I lived thinking that the 'good' people or the 'cool' people didn't bother with money. It was a tool of the devil.

Today I went for my first spa/massage experience. Driving there in my not-so-new UVA, which requires much coaxing to get into first gear I thought of a friend who recently told me of his family's newly acquired Mercedes. It apparently has individual butt-warmers in each seat. It seemed an outrageous luxury when I first heard of it but sitting there humming my muchly loved Bollywood songs it didn't seem like such a bad idea. And then I reached the spa.

This had to be a contender for the top five experiences of my life slot. It was pure luxury. The massage in itself was excellent but I just loved the steam and multiple jet shower in the room. I felt like a princess! I was in heaven. I never wanted it to stop.

As I drove back I calculated how often I would be able to afford this and suddenly I realised that this would not be the kind of expense my family would approve of. And I realised that I didn't care. I loved it. I loved eating good food at fancy restaurants. I wanted to visit exotic foreign locales. And hell ya I wanted to wear funky clothes! Throw in a good car to boot.

Happiness may be a lot better than money, but my friends money goes a long way in making you happy! So cheers to the moolah coming my way.