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Almost famous - the life of the Desi Divorced Diva

Amy Poehler  pretty much nails the post-divorce life for women like me, i.e. women who are smart, intelligent, pretty, and divorced. Yes, you heard right. I just said some nice things about myself, and you will soon realize that we say such things in abundance. It helps with our self-esteem and prevents us from being “broken.” I know. It’s unbelievable and freakin’ fantastic!

Truly ladies, I don’t want anything to do with your husbands. Firstly, and I hate to be brutally honest (but you’ve really not left me much choice here), they are just not my type.  Just because I enjoy a conversation, smile, take selfies, and have a way of hugging friends when I say hi, does not mean I’m flirting. That’s just me being me – confident and comfortable in my own skin (see I did it again). But you wouldn’t know anything about that, would you? You could not for the life of you have an ounce of confidence if you had to always be so insecure about the man you live your life with. I finally get it. It’s not me. It’s you, or maybe him. (See? I said I was smart AND intelligent)

I don’t blame you. I feel sorry and would like to let you know I am here to help. I am divorced, and no, it’s not infectious. Husbands - you don’t really need to worry. I will not suggest they leave you because you don’t load the dishwasher or do the laundry. In fact, I just brought the romance back in your life. You see, you are now so scared your wife might leave you, you actually try to put an effort in your relationship. I told you I would help.

As for the other genre of husbands who now think I'm vulnerable and feeling lost, and somehow in your weird, sickening imagination think I might be the right person to help you spruce up your life while your wife is away - get the hell away from me. I cannot be that helpful either.

Thanks to my new status (not so new anymore), I’ve made lots of friends and am used to random calls, emails and text from friends, who I have not been in touch with for ages, asking me if I would talk to one of their friends. I am not complaining about this at all. I have loved to help out a few women who had no one to turn to through the process who would understand them. And I’m quite aware that there aren’t too many desi divorced divas in this region. So, I just want to let you know that I’m here. I just charge $140/hour.

These days, any party I go to, I know the women are dying to ask me the million dollar question – “are you dating someone?” Most recently, they want to ask me, “who was the guy you visited in New York? Is he single? Did you sleep with him?”  Yes, divorced women can have absolutely normal platonic relationships with single men. And not every single man in my life I have to date or sleep with or marry. Rest assured, I will change my relationship status on Facebook as soon as I start dating so you can sleep better. For now, the friend I just visited I’ve known for 15 years. So there is nothing of that sort there, you can now move on to the next guy you see me with on Facebook.

Being divorced is not easy on many levels. But being a young (yes, I’m sticking to it) Indian divorced woman takes matters to a whole new level of crazy eye-rolls and exasperated sighs. But most of all it made the prediction of that astrologer come true from many years ago, at least part of it. I became famous - the talk of the town. How many of you can add that to your resume? Now all I can hope for is that the second prediction will come true and somehow this is all going to lead to that enormous fortune. Till then, I'll remain single and almost famous and enjoy every bit of it.

-- Your's truly DDD (no you pervs - that's not my size!)

Women in Rape

Recently media has been flooded with news of rape in India. Having gone through sexual abuse at a very early age, I cannot even begin to imagine what rape victims go through, no matter what their age. When I was finally brave enough to talk about what happened to me, I realized it was not only our men who needed to be educated, and in some cases have their penises chopped off, but the women were equally part of this disastrous mindset that plague our society and culture.

If you know me well enough, you will know that I always say, a country that cannot respect its women, is far from being developed. But where women don't respect other women, is a society that will breed evil far worse than we can imagine.

I think the problem is far deep-rooted than what we'd like to see or believe. When I first talked about what happened to me as a child, one of the first reactions from an elderly woman, who I had previously loved and looked up to, was, "Why did you not say anything earlier? Did you enjoy it?" As an 8th grader, one thing I was sure of. I would probably never enjoy "it" and if I could bring justice down on the person who did that to me, I equally wanted justice for this woman who had asked me this horrific question.

These are the women who give birth to sons and set examples of how to respect other women. And this is the reason it is not all the men's fault. As mothers, we have shown our kids it is okay for the men in our families to treat us a certain way. We have reminded our sons over and over again, they are superior over their sisters and have taught them how to mistreat their wives, because as mother-in-laws we have done exactly the same. We have prayed every night in order to conceive this superior being in our wombs and have been a part of destryoing the girl child. As mothers we taught our daughters to cover up and avoid men and be introverts. We've asked them not to wear pretty clothes or use makeup or do anything that might enhance their beauty and warned them over and over again of the evil that presides and put the fear of rape in them whenever they got ready to leave the house. Sadly we never put the fear of rape in our sons when it came time for them to venture out. Thus rape happens in our streets, schools, police stations and even in our homes.

We've been this way for centuries. And no matter how modern or developed as a country we think we get, we always end up in the news as a country with the largest number of rape cases. Yes, I agree we also make the news with some brilliant achievements worldwide hidden between coverage of corruption charges, film stars and cricketers, but these are the things that keep us awake at night, make us switch the channel or close our screens when our kids walk past.

I sit here in California, by the poolside of my apartment where majority of the resident population are Indians due to the proximity of my apartment to a hi-tech company. We are inevitably the smart race. But here too, I see the difference between our sons and daughters, husbands and wives. And even though we are writing code and building systems that will shape the future of the world, we are also establishing the stepping stones of how these boys and girls will perceive our gender moving forward. It is as much the responsibility of our men, as it is our women, to bring change. And by change, I mean, to revert back to our scriptures and worship our women rather than abuse them.

And just as an FYI, I definitely did not enjoy "it."

You Know You Need a Life When...

• You go to get your nails done and realize this is the ONLY male touch you have experienced in over a year. Your heart flutters till you look up and see his face.
• Your first week night off, you station your ass on the couch for 6 straight hours and watch TV.
• Your second week night off, you spend drinking with your boss who is also a priest.
• Your ex-boss keeps texting you videos of all the renditions of "let it go" he comes across.
• You decide to start working out, but end up eating 4 dosas along with other meat related stuff and washing all that down with some wine.
• You look forward to Monday nights when you can watch the recorded Devious Maids episode.
• You originate from India, but get really upset when Brazil gets their asses whooped at the World Cup semi-finals, which results in all-day moronic Facebook updates.
• Your daughter rolls her eyes and says, "Mommy, are you listening to love songs AGAIN?"
• The rare Friday you get off work early, you decide to schedule dance practise.
• You make up for 13 years of good driving record with your first ticket which is a red light violation you got trying to make a right turn.
• Your Facebook page gets flooded with photos of you wearing sarees and posing with the same people every weekend, weekend after weekend and getting tagged in the same photos taken by everyone at the event.
• You get home and write stupid blog posts.

When Moms Take the Night Off!

Its almost noon. I have barely moved an inch. I desperately need a shower, my armpit smells like Kolkata's waste disposal area. For all of you who have cringed each time you passed Dhapa while driving through the Eastern Bypass, you know exactly what I mean. But I continue to lounge on my couch and look at the clock. My brain is probably waiting for a sign when the clock tells me it is now the right time for me to move my ass.

This is what happens when three moms decide to go out one night and paint the town red. We forget our kids have sucked up every ounce of our energy. After one drink we forget we have no energy left. So we move on to the second one. The conversation starts to get really interesting. We are actually beginning to have fun. Time for the third drink. This makes us laugh a lot and we start talking to strangers. We begin to think we are finally living our lives. Everything feels so good. I am in reality talking to adults and not putting up animal shows with imaginary animals who live with us. What better could I want from life? I of course don't want this moment to stop. Not surprisingly, the cosmos keep coming.

By the end of our fourth or fifth (who's counting?) the inevitable happens. The moms are ready to shake some mommy booty. Right at that moment it sounds like a brilliant idea. None of us can remember when we were out dancing last. So we haul our asses to a nightclub and somehow manage to take whoever was in the restaurant bar with us. It seems the cosmos have made us social butterflies and I feel I can conquer the world.

What follows is a few more hours of crazy dance moves and lots of laughter. We forget kids, husbands, work and we live in the tiny moment we have allowed ourselves amidst our absolutely crazy lives and schedules. And we do the craziest thing of all - stay on till the club closes and we are actually asked to leave. Mommy Night Out mission accomplished!!!

Sad thing is, I'm not really hung over this morning (wait, noon). I'm just plain tired, which tells me I'm getting too old for this. Which also makes me make the point - no matter whether I am being a mom or not - I'm ending up tired. What the hell??? As I write, I have a group text going on with a few friends trying to plan a weekend getaway which will consist a lot more of what I just talked about. Why does that make me want to crawl back into bed and do nothing substantial today?

Well, there is laundry I need to take care of and groceries I need to get. Also, the clock is finally sending its signals. Wait no! My armpits are the ones sending me the final signals this time. No time to waste!

Thanks dear girlfriends for the much needed night out. All of the above states what a fun time was had. Just that, I probably need a whole month (might even be a year) to recover from it - LOL!

The Goddess in Me

You have insulted me. You have unfriended me. You have held me and said, “you are like a daughter to me”,  just to backstab me. You have spread rumors about me. You have scandalized me. You have spoken about me. You have not spoken to me.

“You” are some of the respected members of the Bengali community in Sacramento. Some of you have now known me for over a decade. Some of you barely know me. But you are all somehow united in your judgment about a personal life decision I made two years ago.

I think it is now time I thanked you for your contribution in my life.

Why, you ask?

Because it is “you” who unleashed the goddess in me. Each time you tried to crush my soul and make me your scapegoat, you helped me rise. Each time you ignored me and my daughter, you helped me become stronger. Each time you tried to prove your own lame existence, you made me live.

I have often been questioned why I still choose to attend certain functions and gatherings knowing you will be there.  You see, I am not like you. I don’t have to hide and crawl. I have not done anything to you that makes me feel that way. In fact I quite enjoy you trying to do the avoiding and disappearing act. That is exactly how you should live - in fear. Because its time you realized, the goddess lives in me. Not in the ones sitting in your cabinets, that you pray to every day.

The Sound of Music

When dark clouds overtake the normally sunny blue skies of where I live, I’m usually transported back to my school days. This transportation also stems from several old photo albums I found, while packing last night.

As of this morning, I’m a bit nostalgic and listening to songs that are not quite helping my situation to concentrate on the present task at hand.

While I listen to my playlist, I realize, there are quite a few songs that are so intertwined with a specific person or memory I have. So much so, it seems like it was just the other day.

Whenever I hear the song “Bahon ki Darmiya”, I cannot help but think of my “boyfriend” from 11th grade. All the lame excuses to run out of the house to see him, hold hands and feel like we were in “love”. I almost killed my best friend of a heart attack when she realized I was dating this guy. It all went downhill after I saw his dad in a “lungi” smoking “bidi”.

Songs from the movie “Pukar” most definitely remind me of my dating days in Bahrain. With hopes of a romantic evening, I had trotted along with my date to the theater, to watch said movie, hand-in-hand, head resting in his shoulder. Eventually his head ended up in my shoulder, his loud snores muffling the filmy dialogues. He had made a request prior to dozing off - to wake him up when Madhuri Dixit came on the big screen, clad in her blue chiffon saree, standing on the glaciers somewhere in Alaska and for just that  tiny moment, there was romance in the air. I cannot help smile to this date when I hear the song “Kismat se tum”

The women of Bollywood should protest to this nonsense. While women are expected to be skimpily clad in the snow, the men are cuddled up in warm clothes AND gets to snuggle with the actress. In olden days they made babies this way in movies such as “Aradhana”.  Another movie with great songs. But I digress.

The song, “Jab koi baat bigar jaye”, I think has the same effect on women of my generation, no matter which state or school you come from. This song just reminds me of my group of friends and all things school.

“Tum aye to aya mujhe yaad” takes me back to my friend’s flat in Jodhpur park. The endless adda sessions while sipping Old Monk and Coke and smoking packets of Wills, trying to forget my battles with dad at home. My induction to Bangla Band music was at this very sanctuary of the Sen residence. The red cover of Mohiner Ghoraguli’s audio cassette will never leave my memory. Amidst the endless cups of chai, some random Presidency students, and swirls of smoke, we would blast “Prithibi” and feel one with the universe.

Going back even farther, songs from “Qyamant se Qyamat Tak” takes me back to that day that went down in the history of Gokhale hostel - we had coerced our Matron to take us on a field trip to watch this movie in a theater. Watching Aamir’s sweet face light up the big screen lit up our tiny hearts and made it the best day of our lives, in times when all we had was a lousy radio to keep us entertained.

“Dil hai Chota Sa” transports me back to the Ambassador Taxi that held ten of us girls. We had the driver take us to Esplanade to watch that year’s biggest Bollywood blockbuster - “Roja”. Since we decided to bunk Madhyamik PT practice, we were in our school uniforms - probably the dumbest thing we ever did. The school got a call from someone of authority at the theater, notifying them ten of their schoolgirls were missing. The icecream we shared that day was the best icecream I will ever taste. I just wish I could savor it more - thanks to you - Sapto - our’s was the first one to be gone. Learned life’s biggest lesson that very day -NEVER to share my food.

“Que Sera, Sera,” will always remind me of you - Sapto. You were the ONLY crazy person in school who wanted to hear me sing, that too this song of all songs. Sumana - every time I hear Cliff Richards or Carpenters, even WHAM, I think of you and those weekend afternoons of “Band Box” on the radio - the segment that would play English songs. I knew, if not anyone, you would be listening with me. And I would feel very “cool” the next day in class when I could join in with your English music conversations.

Gone are those days. But the songs still remain with these special memories etched into each one of them, never to leave my heart. And in this day and age of gadgets and electronics, whenever I see clouds, my mind still wanders back to that junior dorm black box radio and its sounds. Little did I know then, that the music coming out of it would shape my life forever.

Being your Mother

Every single day I teach you to become more and more independent. Mainly because I think you need these skills to do well in life. Every night as part of that process, I encourage and most times force you to sleep on your own bed, and tell you, you are not alone, you have your glow pets and princess dolls to give you company. I tell you that all other kids your age sleep this way and you should be like one of them. Deep down, I want you in my bed, and even though I don’t sleep well with all your kicking, I sleep better than when you are not in bed with me.

You turned 7 today, and while I said my goodbyes at school, I realized very soon you won’t need me to drop you off at school. You won’t need those last minute hugs and kisses and most definitely will prefer to hang out with your friends than with your mommy. I look around at the other kids who couldn’t care less if their parents were in the room, and even though there are moments I am jealous that those kids are so hands off, I know you are special and cherish each of those moments you don’t want to let go of me.

This past year I’ve seen you work very hard, both at home and at school. I’ve felt your struggles to fit in socially, to try and perform in ways that is expected out of you.  I have experienced your transformation every single day and all I can say is I am very proud of you.

I am also very sorry, because I wish you lived in a world that was less judgmental, that did not require you to be a certain way. Which is why it was absolutely phenomenal to see you at school this morning wearing the outfit you had picked for your special day. It was a complete disaster – but it was YOU. And even though my first reaction was that of shock and a need to tell the world I had nothing to do with it, I couldn’t help but see how happy you were, and laugh about whatever other people might be thinking of the way you were dressed in school today. I did not have my camera with me, but this image will never leave my memory.

I know I am your hardest critic and push you every single day to be a well-behaved girl. But what I don’t tell you more often that it is okay to let go and be yourself and pursue things you love in any way or form. Today, on your birthday, I promise to do that more - to listen to your heart and mine, to value your opinions and personality, and to thrive in the glory of who you are and who you are meant to be.

That’s what being your mother is all about and I want to cherish ALL our moments together.

I Have a Dream!

I honestly don't know why people are making such a big deal about NSA surveillance and the storage of phone metadata. I mean, I really have no issues with NSA listening to my phone conversations. In fact, I pity whoever has to listen to them. I mean, imagine having to listen to the phone conversations I have with my ex. I won't be surprised if they send over a terrorist to blow us out. And boy, if they are reading our emails - that might require chemical weapons. So, if they need to really go through our personal information to stop a terrorist attack, I say - go for it! In fact, I think NSA deserves a medal for going through all that crap.

I have never really talked about my divorce in my blog. Mainly because I didn't think it was anyone's business. But I was wrong and the esteemed Bengali community of Sacramento thought otherwise. And even though this deserves a whole post dedicated to the topic, I would just like to tell all of you who have shown extreme concern regarding my daughter's well-being, it would be nice for you to actually try and find out how she's doing and help out once in a while. So, take a chill pill and worry about what's happening in your home, not mine. And if you really do have that perfect family, then please try to devote your time to world peace. And remember, each time you judge me when I walk into the room, know, I'm feeling sorry for you - truly.

In other news, today is day three of my Jillian Michael's Ripped in 30 workout challenge. All I can say is that, apart from discovering muscles that I did not know existed, I should have also been serious about my kegel exercises while I was pregnant. The fact that at my age I am even thinking of adult diapers makes me depressed. And that makes me eat a whole bag of chips. And that makes my workout quite meaningless. Moral of story - working out at home is depressing! I think I need a nap.

It took me a while, but I discovered the secret to being a perfect parent - alcohol and TV! Today is also day three of my little one being sick and we have not left the house so far. If you're not a parent, you will probably not understand the gravity of this situation. Remember the airline safety videos where they ask you to wear your oxygen mask first and then help your child? You have to apply that same rule when your kid is sick and stuck at home. You reach for the wine first and then the cough syrup - I am serious! And TV time is the ONLY time the coughing and whining recedes. One of these days I will find that post where I proclaimed, being a parent was the best thing that happened to me and delete that remark.

If you've been feeling jealous that I had MLK day off - this post should now put your mind at ease. And this quote couldn't me more appropriate in my life right now: "I say to you today, my friends, so even though we face the difficulties of today and tomorrow, I still have a dream." Just that my dream involves a beach and a private jet.

Jokes apart, I pay respect today to the remarkable man who touched the lives of many ordinary citizens.

The New Year Post

When your year ends with having to dump your child’s Christmas presents in a trash bag or having to deal with the year’s worst temper tantrum right before heading out to the NYE bash, you can’t help but think you’ve had the worst year of your life. And I can’t help but wonder, whether everywhere in the world people are drinking themselves silly for similar reasons that very special night. (I think they ARE!)

But today, the very first day of 2014, was right out of a fairytale. My daughter seemed like she could be Cinderella instead of one of her stepsisters, which made me wait in anticipation all day for the bubble to pop. Only after I tucked her in bed, I realized I had the perfect day with the perfect daughter. But the day wasn’t perfect because of this one reason. The day was perfect because we were also both very sad to have said goodbye to our best friends, so sad, that my almost seven year old sat down to write a letter to her friend saying how much she was missing him and wish he had never left. That was real. That was life. And that made it such a perfect day to start the year with.

2013 was the same. It was real. It was life – complete with shitty moments and incredible ones, but most of all, a year of endurance. Today, I shamelessly pat myself on the back and shout out loud that I did really good. And I did it with grace, and dignity, and for the very first time, I am proud of myself.

I am also incredibly proud of my daughter who continually struggles to be the perfect child we all want her to be and makes me revisit the word "endurance" on a daily basis.

So, I start this new year with no resolutions or goals, but with everyday life that me and my child will truly LIVE!

Wishing all of you a year full of crazy laughs!

 

You know you are a single mom when...

• You are ready to call it a day at 8:30am
• You really feel like telling your kid that she can hunt for her own food at lunch
• You are tired of hearing, “you look really tired today” 
• But then you smile politely and say, “this IS how I look”
• From the moment your kid wakes up, you wait eagerly for her bedtime
• Shower times can play with your mind. You don’t want it to end (for either kid or you) but stress out thinking of the water bill next month
• Every morning you tell yourself you will go to bed early tonight
• But you never go to bed till midnight because that is the ONLY time you will get to yourself
  You use that very precious time very constructively, and instead of preparing lunch for the next day, you get caught up on Devious Maids and Mistresses (remember, kid can hunt for own food at school?)
• You find yourself constantly making lists
• You are incapable of taking naps (IF the moment ever arose) 
• You live in constant fear of forgetting something very important
• Your kid is the only child in school to wear the same dress to picture day as the previous year
• The person you want MOST in your life is a live-in maid who can also do your hair every morning
• Wine is your biggest expense
• You don’t read books anymore - they are too taxing for your brain
• You do not have the space for other people’s shit
• You stop watching the news, chemical weapons don’t seem to a big problem anymore
• Every free moment you get, you find yourself in the grocery store or scrubbing something
• The only time you might be able to go out on a date would be Saturday brunch
• But you would look too tired for that
• And your date might mistake you for a bear because you have not had time to shave (just be glad I shower every day)
• Or he might think this is the first time you’ve been to a restaurant because you are more interested in the dining experience than him
• And then he will dump you on that first date realizing he cannot afford your wine bill
• Did I already mention that wine is your biggest expense?

In Love...

Lately, I received quite a few messages from my friends that they love seeing my Facebook posts, especially the photos. They want to know the secret to my glow and love my zest for life. Now, granted, everything on Facebook should be taken with a grain of salt, and I post only the "happy" moments, and I definitely do not glow without filters - I do love life. And the only reason I share it is because there is nothing like sharing a bit of happiness with friends and family. I've always shared happiness, even during the days we did not have Facebook.

What makes me happy?
Falling in love...

I fall in love almost every day. In fact I fell in love just last night with this couple at the airport. When you're traveling for business or with kids, you are always in a rush - how fast can I get out of that plane? How fast can I walk to the baggage claim? Does my child need to go potty? I better check my emails while I wait for those damned bags. Why did I check bags in the first place? Oh, I remember, it was for the shoes! I need a pair for the outfit I wanted to wear for that dinner, only to realize none of the 5 pairs I took with me matched.

So, last night, after I landed, I decided not to rush. And surprisingly, I got my bags as soon as I reached baggage claim. I strolled outside and waited for my friend to come pick me up and while I waited, I decided not to play with my phone. As I sat there inhaling fresh air and exhaling toxic airplane air, I was startled by a squeal from this lady who was so excited to see her partner. They both hugged, kissed and her partner held her tight and reminded her how much he missed her. I fell in love instantly.

I'm also in love with Sam. Our six year old neighbor who is honestly the most loving child I've ever met. I'm in love with the fact my daughter loves him as much as I do and that all three of us share the same love for Tom and Jerry.

When it comes to falling in love, I fall in love with my friends in San Diego over and over again. I'm a firm believer that God gives special kids to special parents and they are truly special. I'm in love with their strength, courage and most importantly their constantly smiling faces.

I fall in love easily with people who smile and make others smile. The greatest feeling in this whole world is putting a smile on someone's face. I'm in love with beautiful people - both from inside and out.

I am of course head over heels in love with my six year old - her morning breath, her crazy hair, her wiggling tooth, her crazy sense of fashion, our evening walks to watch the sun set, our pretend parties and dance shows.

So remember, if you are one of those people who find it hard to smile, complain about how things are not going your way, afraid others might judge you, or even worse, following your heart might throw things off balance - you need to wake up and fall in love, over and over again.

The Sparkly Shoe Fund

Lately I have not been feeling creative at all. That is kind of stressful for me, especially since my livelihood depends on being creative every single day. I think I am finally succumbing to that pressure. The last thing I want to do when I come home, is be creative. There are walls in my apartment that I want to decorate with photos, there are even photos available to put up, but the sheer thought of coordinating and buying frames, and coming up with creative ways to not make my walls look like any other walls, makes me give up on the project each and every time.

However, what I cannot get away with, is being a parent.  That is THE most creative job on the planet. So if you are a parent, and if you tell yourself you are not the creative type, you are lying to yourself. You might not be lying when you say you don’t have a sense of color or coordination – but a creative you are. How would you be raising kids or else? Imagine the answers you have to come up with, the solutions you need to invent, the endless stories you have to weave and the manipulation you have to resort to, to just get your child to brush her teeth.

Born from such creativity is “The Sparkly Shoe Fund”.

Last weekend, at a play date, my daughter saw these sparkly sneakers that were not only super colorful, but also lit up when you walked. Of course, she wanted them. She even promised to wear these shoes to school EVERY day. Now the “wearing it EVERY day” part was what caught my attention. As a parent, who is late to work every single morning due to shoe drama, this would be a blessing (we’ll talk about the clothes drama at a later post when I’ve had enough wine).

Even though it was an interesting solution, I had forgotten all about it (as usual) till it came up last night amidst a lot of whining. I was just coming out of a play/pool/dinner date with three girls and hearing my daughter whine was not at the top of my list. I had to make it stop. She did not need shoes and I didn’t want to say yes. But I couldn’t let go of my morning visions of no shoe drama. That’s when I saw the light and gave birth to the said fund.

I explained to her that she will have to create a fund for her shoes. I laid out the rules. The shoes cost $30 (I sure hope they are not $100 designer shoes). I would pick out chores for her and add dollar amounts to them based on level of difficulty. She could earn the money my completing the chores. If she needed my help in completing any of them, her earnings would be reduced for said task. Her first task last night was to vacuum a cobweb with a spider in it. Since she is really fearful of spiders, this task was a big ticket item set for $5. She could not muster up the courage to do it herself and requested my help. That brought it down to $2. Her first earnings.

A few other things she can earn money for her shoes, is by way of overcoming a few challenges we deal with on a daily basis. Staying awake in the car on her way home from school every evening, eating well at three meals and cleaning up her room will earn her $1. Sleeping in her own room will earn her a whopping $5. As of this moment she is sleeping in her bed, at her own wish, sans any drama – I feel like I’ve won already. In case of any kind of bad behavior, depending on the extent, she will have to pay me back from her fund.

As of last night, this girl is on a mission and so am I.

And of course, a girl has to have a sparkly shoe box for the cause!

I knew these jewels would one day solve a bigger purpose :)

Just doing it! Because that is what you sometimes have to do.

Only $27 to go...our drawing skills have a longer road ahead though ;)

Mommy is currently receiving contributions in the name of a Sparkly Flask Fund – oh wait, I already have that!

Random Rants of the Aging

So now my eyebrows are turning gray? WTH??? I feel like I woke up one day and turned old. I am not ready yet. But I have to face said fact – after all its not just my hair anymore – its my freakin’ eyebrows as well. I mean, seriously???

So what do you do to your eyebrows when they turn gray? I’m sure there are pins in Pinterest on eyebrow makeovers. Who can guide me to that fountain of youth again? Anyone?

Honestly, I don’t “feel” old. Okay, maybe there was just this one day when I threw my back off somehow and could barely walk all day. How did that happen? Well, I’d like you all to believe I was practicing moves from the Kama Sutra, but I think it was from tying my shoelaces. Let’s just go back to the Kama Sutra version here – shall we?

I’ve never had a problem acknowledging my age and realizing I’m getting older. But the other day when I came across someone celebrating their 26th on FB, I almost cried. I blamed it on my hormones and the time of the month of course. Some of my 40+ friends are rolling their eyes saying, “Gawd, you’re still young!” I would like to remind them again that my eyebrows are graying. As you can tell, this really has me freaked out.

I think it’s stress. I think it’s the damned stressful lives we lead. I cannot imagine what my parents would have done if they had to deal with kindergarten graduation ceremonies.

My brain doesn’t work anymore. It has been proven by my six year old who wrote me this beautiful note saying, “ I love mommy because she does not use her brains.” I think my brain has checked out and is eternally vacationing in some tropical island. But somehow even there I constantly here the words – “hungry”, “poop”, “mommy”, “dessert”, “why”, “but WHY?????”

I have to admit – my daughter has some serious skills. Some of the stuff she can do blows my mind. She can talk non-stop while brushing her teeth. She can also do a balancing act while on the potty. She can do cartwheels and hand stands right after dinner without throwing up. She can say “mommy” in EVERY sentence.

But at the end of the day, she thinks Mommy is 18. I think Mommy is 24. And there is always tweezers for those damned eyebrows and mascara for when you realize there will be no more eyebrows left for tweezing.

The Sensory Child

“ You would never get way for this kind of behavior with me. Your mother is too nice.”

I have heard my daughter being told this too many times now and as a mother I’ve cringed inside every single time and wanted to explain myself that I wasn’t spoiling her a bit. In fact, I was really hard on her. But at all instances I kept silent knowing I would never be able to explain our challenges and the other person would not understand. I just distanced us from them as much as I could.

There have been too many occasions, where my friends thought I was too uptight when I wanted to return home with my daughter at a decent time from a get-together or wanted to stick to our regular week day meal times on weekends knowing the aftermath I would have to face for breaking schedule. Friends and family would walk over eggshells around my daughter not knowing what’s going to spark an outburst from her. As a result, they all somehow ended up treating her a bit differently than the other kids in the room.

I’ve also always wondered if these other parents judged me when I didn’t make too big of a deal if my daughter wouldn’t smile, say hi, thank you or goodbye knowing the result of putting her on the spot would be far worse than the current situation, if I did. She, however, was constantly reminded that she does need to say those things and be polite. But it wouldn’t happen right then and there, no matter how hard I tried.

By the time my daughter was three, I knew something was out of sync. I knew that, because I am not one of those parents who will be blind to all my child’s antics.  I had unfortunately been one of those judgmental parents myself before I had my own kid. And I had promised myself that my kid would never get away with most of the stuff I see other kids doing or saying.

So when after years and years of not giving in, being consistent with discipline, and not taking any crap, we continued to have the same problems, I realized something was off. She seemed to have been born with a switch that toggled between an extremely happy and an extremely unhappy/mad kid with no middle ground. Sometimes the reasons were not clear to us as parents, let alone other people we socialized with and our family members who just thought she was spoilt.

A few years ago, I was determined I was going wrong somewhere with this whole parenting gig. The world around me sure made me feel that way. It was time I sought help. After my counselor heard the challenges I was having, she advised I get my daughter evaluated by an Occupational Therapist. To her, it seemed like my daughter had some sensory issues. I had no idea what that meant at the time. So I started reading.

The more I read, the more I began to understand why getting dressed, brushing teeth, taking a shower, going to school, riding in the car, socializing – almost everything with her was such a challenge and a constant battle. Mostly all her senses, especially that of touch and sound, are extremely heightened and they bother her to no extent. As her therapist later had explained to me – imagine being pricked by a 1,000 needles all at once – that’s how she feels when she wears certain clothing. And she cannot explain that to you and you have no way of understanding why she is throwing such a tantrum. Not because she is spoilt – she wants to be in something that comforts her.

Comfort and security is something she seeks at all times. Kids with sensory issues are uncomfortable most of the time. Being unable to express their discomfort, these kids tend to become very insecure, irritable, frustrated, afraid and rigid. They need extreme structure and operate well within a consistent schedule.

Doctors will not recognize sensory integration as a medical problem and will not refer you for therapy. Once a pediatrician told me – your daughter does not need any occupational therapy. She’s just being a kid and you just need to stay consistent with discipline. Some have told me I am overreacting and of course there were those who will constantly harp on the fact that I spoil her and am responsible for all ill actions. Lately, of course, there is the divorce and most all her reactions are believed to be because of our “situation”.

I am done with crap people throw at me constantly. I am done with those who are not there to help but can only point fingers and be judgmental. I have a beautiful, extremely smart, creative and loving daughter and all I want, is to provide her with skills and tools to be able to grow up in to this wonderful human being in her own right. The past six years have not been an easy ride of any sort – not for any one of us – but this year is the year of hope and the year of building our futures – and build we shall.

Why do I write about this you ask? Knowing very well most people might start thinking my child has a “problem” and be judgmental anyways? I write about this because I am a changed person. I write about my experiences because I would like you to change your thoughts as well – to have more patience, to understand, recognize, be aware, love, and most importantly take an extra step whenever you get a chance, because, who I see here is a child who can sparkle up your life as much as she sparkles mine.

Beaches, Friendship and much more...

Growing up I was always surrounded by friends. Till date, some of my closest friends are the ones I made when I was very very young. I've known my best friend since fifth grade. We are more like sisters now. I think E shares my sentiments when it comes to friendship. She loves hanging out with her friends, having them over and visiting them. She also shares my love for the ocean and sprawling beaches. So nothing could have been more fun and meaningful to us both than visiting our friends in San Diego for Spring Break. Its been almost a year since our friends moved out here and we miss them a lot. 

Here are a few moments from my "Beach Series". These photos were taken with an iphone and I am not a photographer. So even though they are not technically the best photos - each of them tell me a story and are very close to my heart.

Along with my childhood friends, I have also made some incredible friends in the recent years. One of them I have the pleasure of working with at my current job. Being the native OC girl, imagine her excitement when we had to go on a business trip to Orange County recently. Brought up in Laguna Beach, she took me down memory lane with her to the house she grew up in, the school she went to and of course the beach she so terribly misses now. I could not resist taking a few shots of her reminiscing about her childhood. I'm honored she took me on this journey with her and I cherish our newly found friendship to no end.

Heart Day

You knew this post was coming - right? How can one help it when there is so much love all around, especially on the internet. Hopefully our economy did well and people did not delete all the red and pink promotions they received in their inbox like I did. My inbox was flooded with hearts in the subject lines offering some sort of sale. Sadly this time there was none for penis enlargements, for if there were I would totally go for it -LOL!  I was VERY tempted with one offer for liposuction though. I still feel some geek should come up with an app that if you slide the phone across your problem areas it will melt all the fat in those regions. Now, if and when you do come up with that app, please make sure you give me credits and half of your earnings please. After all it was my idea.

So here are a few facts I learned this Valentines day:

• When you say “Olive Juice” your lips move exactly the way if you were to say “I Love You”. Talk about useless information to fill your brain. But now I do posses this piece of information which will never leave my brain even while I forget to pick up my daughter from school.
• If you tell your coworker a sad enough story about yourself right before you head out to lunch together, you earn a free meal. She feels so sorry for you that she buys you lunch which you end up telling her was the highlight of your day and you might just be invited to dinner now - SCORE! (I have to admit this coworker is a dear freind of mine and I know she would have bought me that lunch anyways, it was just how the events took place that made us laugh hard about the way it turned out. I love you Ms B!)
• Less than 3 (because using the symbol jacks up my post due to some HTML crap): According to Urban Dictionary, some people use this as a heart, but those people are wrong. It is clearly a ballsack. Don’t blame me for ruining the "heart" for you - I would have never thought of that.

Jokes apart, hope everyone had a great time with people they loved, doing the things that they love and spreading some love to folks who need them. I know I did, especially since it involved Lamb Biriyani and Kababs and NO ballsacks. :)

Party Planning Jitters

I finally won over my urge to constantly be in the know of everything that was happening in everyone's lives. Its been almost three weeks that I've not been on Facebook and I must say it feels pretty good. My head is not full of useless information anymore - well, for the most part - when I'm not trying to answer questions like "mommy, how can Mary Poppins sit on a cloud?"

The chatterbox is turning six and she wants a party. If she could, she would invite 100 kids and I'm not kidding. I'm sure she even mentioned something to that effect in one of her conversations while driving home back from school. So far she has almost 40 kids on her invite list. I'm just amazed she even knows 40 kids. Yes, I know I'm crazy to have said yes to it. But I'm happy she considers that many her friends and wants to include them in her celebrations. I, however, have starting laying rules for next year already - limiting her to 10-15 friends she can invite. She sighs, throws her arms in the air, rolls her eyes and says, "mommy, but that's not even a party!" Dear God, SAVE ME!!!

So, I was chatting with a friend today and we were talking about how we cannot remember anything these days. Apparently her mom tells her the same thing that my dad constantly tells me - "if you forget everything at this age, what will you do when you are my age?" I tell my dad it was easy for them. They weren't as forgetful when they were younger because they were not as stressed as we are these days - they did not have Google searches and most importantly they did not have Pinterest. Yes, its official - Pinterest stresses me out beyond belief. So when I did a Google search on the upcoming birthday party theme(s), I was led on several instances to Pinterest boards and one particular blog and I realized there was a whole new world out there of moms with money, lots of it, and something even more precious - TIME. Well, yes, they are creative too and with the resources available to them, their creativity knows no bounds. This knowledge stresses me out why? Because somehow it makes me look like a loser and I don't feel creative anymore and realize my party planning ideas stink - I stink. The realization dawns that however much I try, I will not be able to make my daughter's 6th birthday party look like a wedding on the beach. Beat that dad!

One idea I am taking from all my party planning research though - a bottle of Bombay Sapphire will go very well with the party theme. But a disclaimer to all parents invited - that's only for ME. :)

Keeping it Simple

Look who’s back! I know how much you’ve been missing me and my tidbits on my delightfully interesting life.

It’s that darned Facebook that doesn’t make me want to write anymore. I’d rather just hit the “like” button on other people’s shit (Oops! I meant posts. No offense please. As you keep reading you'll realize I'm using the word a lot). It is almost like the freakin’ Staples “easy button” - somehow makes life that much more simpler.

Talking about simple, that’s what I’m all about in 2013 - being simply simplistic. Who knew in my quest for simplicity I would eventually find true love. You heard that right! He’s slim, he’s sexy, he’s powerful and goes places I’ve never dreamed of before. Introducing to you, ladies & gentlemen, "Mr. D" aka Dyson Digital Slim.

If you are jumping into conclusions that this girl has NO life - you’re just jealous I have a cleaner house than you could ever imagine - I mean SERIOUSLY! This thing is so cleverly designed that I would like to drop everything and enroll myself for a design internship at Dyson - the ultimate in user experience design. I cannot remember the last time I bought a product and was this much in love with it. I vacuum almost every day now. Trashing my ten year old Hoover (which took quite the bodily strength to do) was the most liberating experience in a while. My first step to a simpler life - check.

Topping my list of new year’s resolution though is to not take shit from people, both in my personal and professional life. Just when I make the resolution, shit hits the roof from many different angles. Sometimes it’s hard to react, but I’ve been working hard. So recently when I get an email from someone of importance at work saying, “I’m disappointed in you”  -  I reply back saying “I’m MORE disappointed in YOU for not checking your facts and assuming I failed without asking me what happened first.” I still have my job and there is no stopping me now. So if you are one of those people who have potential of throwing shit my way - be very careful. That stuff will hit you right back. (Wow! I’ve not used the word “shit” so many times. This feels liberating too.)

So for many of you who know me really well, know I don’t bake. You also know that my philosophy is if you can find something that good at a store, why bother to make it? Lately though, thanks to some over-achieving moms at my daughter’s school who bring home-baked goodies for class snacks, I thought I should give it a shot. So during the winter break when my daughter had a playdate, I decided to engage the kids in some baking activity. Off to the store I went with my list of ingredients to make brownies. As I stood at the baking aisle, I had a brilliant idea. Why not start simple? So I picked up a brownie mix and a baking pan instead. The next day, in the event of baking brownies with the kids, not only did I have the gooey chocolate mix smeared on my table and carpet and extensive clean up after, my daughter would not eat rest of those brownies the next day. That says a lot considering the sweet tooth she has. I should just stick to my smart choices. I buy healthier snacks for my daughter's class anyways - score! Keeping it simple is actually simple.

Yesterday my almost six year old daughter asked me "Mommy, what does it mean when two people are dating?" Life doesn't seem simple anymore - Oy vey Oy!

Pujo Shopping, Pandal Hopping & Much More...

Oh, how I wish we kids had cameras back then. I tried going through all my old photos and am bummed to find out I have absolutely no pictures of us friends in our famous pujo attires of yesteryears. Those pictures would be priceless based on our sense of fashion back then.

Pujo fashion in Kolkata was of course dominated by the latest Bollywood styles. I think it was 1990 - the year of Maine Pyar Kiya - pujo shopping in Gariahat, the street vendors crying out loud, “didi, come take a look at the kabutar ja salwa kameez” - the one Bhagyashree wore while singing that famous song. No, I DID NOT purchase that. I cannot remember if it was my choice to not buy it or I wasn’t allowed to. But whatever the reason was - thank God!

That definitely did not stop us from trying to pick up some of that fashion when it came to our hair and makeup. I have specific images of those big hair bows with nets at the bottom to hold your hair into a bun. I think that rage started with Divya Bharti in the early 90’s as well. Anyone remember her? I also remember sporting that hairdo at the Golf Green pujo pandal one year - got a non-facebook “friend request” from one of the senior dada’s there - SCORE! I wonder if it was the hair or those big button-style (for lack of better words) earrings that did the trick - LOL!

Now I cannot remember who started the whole matte lipstick phase paired with a darker shade of lip liners - but boy oh boy - we were all over that one, especially me. I had every shade of brown matte lipstick there could ever be. Followed by those pastel, short-sleeved churidar kameez from Dil to Pagal Hain.

I was surprised to see the same trend after I moved to Sacramento a decade ago. The year of Kabhi Khushi Kabhi Gam  - Jaya Bhaduri sarees selling like hot cakes at the Berkely saree stores for aunties and the Kareena Kapoor outfit for the youngsters. Now, now, aunties - please don’t get mad at me for calling you an auntie. If its any consolation to you - I think I’m one now as well.

So, its that time of the year and I miss all the craziness. I have no idea what’s “IN” these days anymore. I mean, based on the recent Bollywood movies I’ve watched there is no way on earth I can sport some of those outfits worn by Kareena Kapoor or Deepika Paudokone. I miss those days when Bollywood actresses had some meat on their bodies and wore clothes maybe some of us could carry off. I guess I really AM an auntie now.

If you haven’t already guessed, the first thing pujo is all about amongst many other things  is fashion. The crazy shopping and planning of new outfits to be worn all 5 days of Durga Pujo -  that includes separate morning and evening wears. As kids, we used to keep a tally amongst friends as to who had the most number of new outfits that year. Ronita almost always won.

As much as pujo was a time to spend with family, our friends always got precedence. Our group of friends had a schedule down for those few days. Mornings were to be spent with family and anything remotely religious that was expected out of any of us. Evenings were reserved for friends and pandal hopping with them. As we grew older, we convinced our parents to have sleepovers and were out all night in the city going from one pandal to the other with expectations to out number last year’s count as well as to determine which locality had the most number of good looking males.

Pujo was also about relationships. Extended families came together and it was a time to reunite with cousins you would normally not meet the whole year. It was about friendships – both old and new. It was also a time for romance. I think the last one took precedence over the rest. It was a time for folks to fall in love – time for the guys to muster up the courage to finally tell a girl they liked them. It was a time to feel giddy with excitement knowing someone had the hots for you, a time to openly check out and be checked out without being judged. 

Bengali’s are foodies. So it comes as no surprise pujo was also all about food. I still wonder how the “bhog” always tasted as heavenly as it did, without fail, each and every time, year after year. But what was most delectable were the rolls and fuchkas being sold on the streets. You can never go hungry those five days of pujo since street food is available all night long. 

Apart from these pujo to me was waiting for baba to arrive along with waiting for Durga’s face to be unveiled,  Thamma's crisp white sarees with red borders, going to see the new protima at mamoni’s house in Tallygunge, Dadubhai’s ear plugs, those blaring loudspeakers, narkeler naaru, maangsehr jhol on nabami, the beating of dhaaks and dhunuchi naach, the friendships, the lights and sounds, Jodhpur park, Babubagan, Golpark, Ekdalia, Mudiali, Maddox square - the heartbeat of my most favorite city – Kolkata. 

I wonder if I could ever explain to my daughter what these few days meant to us. Starting this year, mainly because she is beginning to understand things better and has opinions (how did that happen? She’s still 5!), I plan to introduce some of my pujo experiences from back home. It will of course not be the same, pandal hopping will have to be substituted by pujo parikrama on the internet – but we can start our own new traditions and it will be as much fun for her as it was for me growing up.

I guess its time to start with shopping…

Disclaimer: Photos have been randomly picked from the web