Chez Moi

Thanks to some cosmic guidance, I chanced upon this absolutely HILARIOUS blog on Surviving Chennai!! This random bloke from somewhere up north has given the world his take on living in Chennai and boy is he funny or what? I mean, where else would you find someone grumbling cos the people of Chennai speak Tamil and not Hindi? I don’t expect to go to Delhi, for example, and think I can wing your way by speaking in Tamil, do I - well, not if I want M.U.G written across my forehead! He even writes a whole post dedicated to the Music Season and in the first sentence, states “also known as Margali (whatever that means)”. Er, right.

Though he has waffled for pages and pages, I found comments to just two of his posts, restoring my faith in humanity. I so don’t want to drive traffic his way but feel a bit guilty about not sharing this barrel of laughs with my loyal readers so have provided the link. All you tams, especially, do see the funny side and do not give him any credence by being offended.

or one week before my EDD. How scary does that sound? Let me answer: very! Though it is the second time around, the little bit of knowledge I have about the process is making it even more of a scary prospect than ever. Plus, factors like am much older this time and the fact that I have heard of some unfortunate news re newborns in the recent past all going around in circles in my head. Not to mention the thesis hanging like the proverbial sword over my head - unable to buckle down, concentrate and get it out of the way but unable to relax until I do so. sigh.

Please wish me and the Bun luck, people! I shall see you all on the other side - armed with a Master’s (well, thesis submitted at least!) and another baby. Whenever The Bun chooses to put in an appearance, the news will be announced in any one of these three laydees’ blogs: Mad Momma, SilentOneinLondon or Ceekay’s 2 cents.

In other words, am at week 37 now. Full term! Whoopeee!! Also, ACK! EDD, September 15 is within touching distance and am trying not to panic big time. I mean, I have been through this once before, right? Like Dottie said, it all comes back to me but I am not too sure that it is a good thing! Last time, I was way too naive and went into the whole delivery lark knowing next to nothing. Had a short but brutal labour. And virtually no support group, save the hubby and the mater and gran who joined us for the final fortnight before P was born.

This time, thankfully, things cannot be more different. The unparalleled Shower Gang is there, cheering me and The Bun every step of the way. I have doulas and proof readers coming out of my ears. Umpteen requests for visits and kisses from The Bun! 

But still, am terrified. Also, a bit teary at the thought of P, my baby, who is not a baby any longer. And it is time I stop kidding myself that he is. He is a big boy now, soon to become a big brother. He is spending his first night away from me on a sleepover at a friend’s. All day I have been looking at his comfort blanket and getting all weepy. He didn’t want to take it with him in case he forgot it over there. I, for one, am glad cos it is going to comfort me tonight! 

ps: Them doulas I was mentioning? The ones that are coming out of my ears? Well, there are three of them - SilentOne, Ceekay and of course, the mad person. I haven’t got a clue how they are going to divvy up their doula duties - there might be a chick fight!! Front row, centre - people! 

Read the Mad Momma’s post on others’ take on the changing face of India. Made me feel something indescribable. Cos I have been guilty of some of the things listed there, especially the ones about the treatment meted out to people in a lower station of life. Whilst most people I know label the house help as “servant”, my family always made sure none of us used it. They were always “the helpers”. They were never treated like dirt, as they were elsewhere. I have always heard them speak to the older maid we had at our place using the respectful “neega” rather than “nee”, in deference to the old ayah’s age. 

But I have also seen that few of the maids appreciate the difference. I have often seen the guy who has his mobile ironing station outside our house treat my folks with contempt, though he comes to them palms outstretched for handouts, loans etc while being deferential to those who barely even glance at him and boss him around. Go figure! 

Anyways, the point of this post is something the mater said to me on the phone today. She was telling me about the new dog walker they’ve got, one who arrives in a gleaming Yamaha motorbike, with the ubiquitous cell phone clipped to the waistband of his bermuda shorts. He parks it outside the walls, calls out a cheery “hello aunty” to my mum, takes Robin for his walk and on his return, hops onto his bike and disappears in a trail of dust. He hardly looks any different to my brother, save for the sunnier disposition! 

Likewise, the two men from the Blue Cross clinic that come to bathe the dogs every fortnight. Smartly dressed, they finish their jobs professionally, are courteous, polite and well-mannered, provide value-added services like checking the dogs’ coat for any signs of fleas etc and holding off an outbreak at the start by coming armed with a ready supply of basic creams and lotions. And yes, they are of the motorbike-cell phones group too. 

That might not seem too much to you but it gladdened my heart to hear these. Especially after reading about the gated communities in Gurgaon and the shantytown outside and the disparity of the situation, these little things like the dog walker looking no different to any other person gives me hope that him and others like him will not be left out in these boom times. 

Small steps? Maybe. Too little too late? Possibly. But a positive, nonetheless. 

Edited to add: A chance comment by Mallika of Eve’s Lungs reminded me of two ‘cases’ similar to the ones she listed. One is that of an auto wallah near my parents’, who sends his kiddies to a regular CBSE school - not the corporation school but a proper English medium one, so they can have a shot at the good things in life. The Indians among us know what a massive deal that is! And how did I forget the leather / shoe repair guy up the road who put both his boys through Engineering college! I was gobsmacked when I took my leather jacket to the guy to repair the faulty zipper and learnt the chap who fixed it has a BTech and was due to start a job with Infy a fortnight later!! 

Breaking my thesis-induced blog silence to preen that I my blog has been awarded the ‘Brilliant Weblog’ award by the Mad Momma. Thank you, o kind mad person! The Brilliant Weblog Award’s a prize given to sites and blogs that are smart and brilliant both in their content and their design. The purpose of the prize is to promote as many blogs as possible in the blogsphere. Here are the rules to follow:

1. When you receive the prize you must write a post showing it, together with the name of who has given it to you, and link back to them.
2. Choose a minimum of 7 blogs (or even more) that you find brilliant in content or design.
3. Show their names and links and leave them a comment informing them that they have been awarded with the ‘Brilliant Weblog’ award.
4. Show a picture of those who awarded you and those you give the prize (optional) to.
5. I pass the sunshine on to:

• 1. Amrita of Indiequill
• 2. Deepti Lamba’s Swinging Puss
• 3. Apu’s World
• 4. Krish Ashok’s Doing Jalsa and Showing Jilpa
• 5. Nandita’s Saffron Trail
• 6. Indira’s Mahanandi
• 7. Poppy’s Babies Anonymous