Laryngitis Inflicted Peace

Two days since I lost my voice to laryngitis and life has never felt more peaceful. 48 hours of not uttering a single word out of my mouth. That's when you truly evolve into a good communicator. You're forced to listen and simply blink in response. 

Two days of vegetating in my parental home and I understand the restlessness of retired folks. It's peaceful yet boring. No deadlines to meet, no documents to work on and definitely no 7 year old boy to fight with. Complete and total silence, almost blissful.

I say almost blissful because how much OTT content can a human being watch in a day? After a point that becomes monotonous and dull too.

Hats off to stay at home mums, retired folks and anyone else who chooses to voluntarily stay at home. It's harder than it looks.

I can probably pull off one more day of silence and sleep, after that my fingers and brain will definitely begin to twitch again.

Strange how we feel guilty for taking a day off even when when we fall sick, it's probably the conditioning of the great Indian rat race that we've been told to keep running in, until the day we die. 

Hardly A Victim

Definitely not a victim to circumstances,

Strong my stance,

After a period of spiralling out,

It's crucial to let it all out,

Than to have those negative emotions fester,

And incessantly pester,

It's good to be a drama queen,

Let all your feelings be felt and seen,

Speak out your worst fears,

Maybe let out a few tears,

And then take charge of your life,

Get down to sorting out yet another strife,

Drown out the white noise,

Work towards the solution calmly and rejoice. 

Trust Yourself

Trust yourself,

Even if life or people make you feel like a helpless elf,

Trust yourself,

Even if the circumstances make you want to run away and vegetate on the shelf,

Trust yourself,

To overcome any challenge however big or small to resolve itself,

Trust yourself,

With all of your flaws, to withstand any storm all by yourself,

Trust yourself,

To rise up above all that white noise, showing up is a feat in itself,

Trust yourself,

To make every hard day, easy, keep your sorrows to yourself,

Trust yourself,

To resolve every hardship, as you always have, all by yourself.

The Importance of Stretching

I got ghosted by my lower back this morning, along with some other muscles that I didn't know existed. This is what happens when you pretend to be a flexible 20 year old at almost 40.

I indulged in a gorgeous hour long circuit training workout with my enthusiastic Gen-z personal trainer last morning. The more she said "good job", the more I pushed myself like wonder woman. 

Wonderful things, circuit training exercises. You feel light as a feather, almost like you're floating on a cloud for hours, at the end of the workout of course. During the routine, you'll find yourself panting like a Labrador who hasn't had enough water.

It's crazy how we take our bodies for granted and just push ourselves to try and look younger and skinnier, even if our entire system protests.

I suppose this is my mid-life crisis - to workout until I can't move. I'm definitely broken on the inside today - literally speaking. 

Never take for granted stretches post a workout and resting. Give yourself grace on the days your back hurts and maybe pop a few extra sugar-free goodies, so that your ego doens't feel so battered. 

Strange this Demon called Parenting

Strange this demon called parenting, where you want space from your little minions. And when you get that space, you wonder what they're upto. Your days are suddenly filled with no purpose, when they no longer live with you.

The free time brings both relief and loneliness. How do I explain this strange thing called parenting? You want them to find their own voice and personality and yet you fear whether you're doing enough to equip them with the right skills for them to fly away.

You want them to fly away and yet you fear what you'll do with all that free time. You want them to be carefree and wild, yet you worry whether they're keeping up with the rest of the class.

So you push them a little harder to study better and instantly feel guilty watching their tiny face filled with stress. It's a tight rope act, this journey called parenting. You can never slip-up, because tiny beings are watching you closely, following in your footsteps. 

You want them to grow up, yet your heart aches listening to their baby voices disappear along with their baby features. 

You want them to run wild in the world, yet fear what would happen if they take bad decisions. You have to let go even if you don't want to. And you have to accept that they will do and say things that don't align with you.

I think that answers my question. Acceptance and keeping an open mind is what parenting is all about. Expect them to shock you, scare you and scandalise you and all you can do is accept them and love them even harder on difficult days. Especially on the difficult days.

Rat Attack

It all began a week ago, in the middle of a busy working day. I heard the distinct pitter-pattering of tiny feet above my head. Since Chota Chetan and Chathanmar exist only in the movies, I was sure it wasn't anything supernatural. 

I shuddered concluding it's most likely a sly little rat. My doubts were confirmed this morning at 5am by the distinct scrambling of tiny footsteps right next to my bed. I quickly turned on my phone torch and saw a big fat tail sliding back into my air conditioner. 

I screamed so loudly, that another glass window on the sunken Titanic most likely shattered despite the weight of the cold ocean around it. Next, I called home and left multiple voice notes.

I couldn't sleep. The next attack was at 6am. And this time I saw it's face, the tiny predator trying to invade my home. My scream was even louder this time and I switched on all the bedroom lights and played nasty Bollywood songs on the telly, hoping to scare it away with modern  music.

The bold little thing, kept dancing over my head though, almost daring me to catch him or her. Finally, both my parents arrived by 6.30am and told me to grow up. 

Next, my father climbed up the step ladder and stuffed the hole under the a/c with some thick cardboard. I couldn't sleep, I couldn't eat, all I could do was get to work by 7.30am with a stick in one hand and my laptop in the other. Every half an hour, I stood up and poked my a/c twice just to check if the tiny nuisance had bolted.

Finally, the a/c technician or in this case my knight in shining armour, troddled in with his big belly and disinterested facial expression. He heard me ramble for a good two minutes with a semi-yawn and proceeded to close the hole with white cement.

The exhaustion of the day finally caught up with me by 3pm and I had a good 40 minute nap. What a day and night! 

In the battle between man v/s nature, nature won today and how! That small being had me petrified for over a week. I'm hoping to not hear any more scrambling feet tonight.

Every noise at home scares me now and my Spidey senses are tingling more than ever. Never take for granted tiny holes all around your house. Unexpected guests can arrive at any minute. Keep your guard up and your throat in good order. I'm convinced my screams did half the job this morning. 

Stranger Things

Half way through the latest season of Stranger Things and it got me teary eyed for all sorts of reasons. To begin with, the kids have all grown up. And they're still trying to save the world in their unique, unintentionally hilarious way. 

Stranger Things was the only series, my late husband and I watched in competition with each other. These are probably the only children in the world, that he ever truly loved after his own son. 

I felt like a proud mother, a grieving widow and like I'd taken a capsule back in time as I binge watched episode after episode. In the midst of all that, I abruptly burst into tears and my 6 year old quickly took 5 steps back. 

"Why are you crying?", he asked, to which I replied, "This series reminds me a lot of your late father." 

"Then stop thinking about him", he replied without blinking an eyelid. Still crying, I wondered where I'd gone wrong as a parent. My Demogorgan mode of screaming and disciplining, he had made peace with. But he couldn't handle tears of love. I stared at the little robot I had created and wondered why he couldn't process grief or anything remotely complex, that was running in my mind. 

And then I realised I had never really cried in front of him until that point. In his mind, he had just moved two cities, moved to two different schools in 4 years and could no longer physically see the nice man who played with him every weekend.

He had no idea what he'd lost and in that moment all I could feel for him was more heartbreak. How could I ever make him understand marriage and love and what a father really is. 

Will could control Demogorgens now and only I witnessed it. Time and story lines keep moving cruelly forward, as if my son and my world never collapsed around us. 

While I definitely don't miss staying up beyond 10pm or eating chicken wings until midnight, I definitely do miss the man who made me do all those questionable things. 

Slave To The Grind

A slave to the grind,

And a slave to my baby's mind,

The hours fly by,

In the blink of an eye,

Take today for example, the promise of a peaceful weekend,

Yet from the crack of dawn, the chores seem to have no end,

Multiple snacks,

Each one fresh and attractive looking, that my brain has to hack,

For my picky eater,

Who talks a mile a meter,

Squeezed in a little workout and some clothes to be washed,

I'm already feeling squashed,

Is it time for my afternoon siesta yet?

This weekend it seems to be under threat,

With my hyperactive mini,

Whose unending requests are making my head giddy.