Flying, crying and sighing..

Maybe it was a bad idea to publish my 'Circle of Pressure' post - the number of people asking about when I plan to get myself pregnant has increased alarmingly. There's some sort of formula I'm sure. With every year that you say "I'll pass" on Motherhood, the curiosity, criticism and general concern increases exponentially.

Friends and family that entered the holy portal of marriage before and after me have since done the responsible thing and started a family, or are getting there really quick, or are talking about taking positive action in that direction. I was always told that when one is with child, people cannot give you enough attention. I wonder how many married (I am Indian after all) and non-pregnant women were questioned before such grossly erroneous conclusions were reached. I think all the attention is on those of us who aren't.

It's probably because I'm at the age where my peers are pushing tiny-tots out by the bushel around me..but I certainly pay more attention to kids now. Especially on flights. Maybe the universe has decided to teach me a lesson for my insubordination - every, and I mean every single flight I have taken in the past year has been miserable for me. There is always at least one, if not multiple angry, ear-splittingly loud little people complaining without compunction about the Lord knows what. The sheer lung power of these things is amazing. I've seen kids that start at the airport in the US, and cry incessantly - give or take a few minutes, all the way to India. We're talking 25+ hours for the most part. Incredible. I would drop from exhaustion if I cried and screamed like that in an hour! I wait with desperation for the transit airport so I can go hide in a bathroom..only to realize someone needs a diaper change or a poopy break. There's no respite I tell you.

My personal favourites are the ones that discover the kick-seat-in-front game. For some reason, this seems to be a very entertaining and amusing activity for a child. Once they know it's driving you nuts, they do it and then laugh. I'm sure I could think of a few counter "games" that would make me laugh a heck of a lot too.

My most recent experience involved a little boy of maybe 3, extremely pissed off with his parent for trying to contain his movement for 2 hours. You know, I saw him and his Mum at the gate and I prayed for them to not be next to me. God was pointing and laughing :(. The boy's methods of protest involved kicking (me), spitting up milk (on me and 3 other people - the spray was fascinating to watch), and screaming at the top of his lungs like there's no tomorrow. I understand children are uncomfortable on flights - air pressure, the constrained atmosphere and all that jazz. But what about the discomfort of other people? I mean, are we to be punished simply because we're adults and forbidden from speaking a word against badly behaved brats? I am extremely motion sick and irritable on an aircraft. I'm tempted to try protesting in the same manner about my discomfort. I doubt that would fly. And that sanctimonious flight attendant who recently divested a parent of her child for daring to try and discipline it. I mean, who is she to intervene? People like that should be thrown in a room full of the world's worst behaved hellions and left there for a day. Let's see how kindly she feels after 24 hours of that.

I had one awesome flight attendant on an international flight where I was stuck next to a kid that hit me, undid my shoelaces, tried to pull my blanket off, and alternately laughed and cried equally loudly through the duration of my flight. The FA gave me chocolate, and said to me as I was stepping off the flight - "Makes you love birth control, dunnit love?" I could have kissed that woman.

As I watch the disapproving looks and mounting irritation in the seats around me, all I can think about is the plight of the poor parents on these trips. People are so quick to say that bad kids has to mean bad parenting. Maybe you just had shitty luck of the draw in the baby department, or are a first time parent who is still learning the ropes, or are just tired of dealing with this on an everyday basis and simply cannot muster up the energy. I don't believe I ever want to be the woman that the whole plane hates and wishes was never let on the flight because I'm having a bad child day.

I wonder why there cannot be an infants and children section on flights, with toys and other things to keep these kids occupied..like a mile-high play date with lots of other kids, oh and soundproof that section of the cabin while you're at it, will you?

A Distant Relationship

A wooden puppet in her master's hand

Emotions of his, she can't understand

Caught between the strings all tangled

Hanging in mid air, her feelings mangled

A mound of clay on the potter's wheel

Molded, shaped and adjusting to his ideals

Her thoughts stretched to extremes,

From happy, sad, now all just a dream!

A snake trapped in a charmer's basket of jute

Hypnotized, she danced to tunes of his gourd flute

Tongue-tied, harmless, she swayed to his many moods

An abrupt pause... the melody now concludes

A red gas balloon on a hawker's stand

Now just a toy in a child's hands

Bobbing and swaying, light as air

The glint of a pin, and she is no longer there

A forgotten treasure chest

On an ocean bed, she was laid to rest

What lies beneath is still a mystery

Yet unsolved, hopeful for discovery

eat, love BUT PRAY!

...that I never come across a more complete man than him
"Hi I m SK* and i m living in toronto canada.I saw ur profile in the tamilmatrimony well I m interested in ur profile If u feel the same pls contact to me at xyz@yahoo.ca u are so beautiful Is there any fastening that can shut in love? Tears of the affectionate will publish the love that is within.And is there bar that can even love restrain?The tiny tear shall make the lover's secret plain.If possible,be certain that you'll do a thing before you promise to do it.Be true to your word,always When out walking,be aware that the energy of the universe is manifested in your body.the more conscious you become of that energy,the more inexhaustible your supply of it will be." Eat light foods more frequently than heavy ones.Drink at least two quarts of liquid a day. The lighter your food,the lighter also will be your consciousness."be willing,when occasion permits,to give others the last word." I would like talk to u lot but u are not mine yet If u don't like me pls before speaking,weigh your words but not too heavily." atleast we could be good friends shall we be friends ahtakecare bye miss SK*"


*For my sanity and security reasons the name has been modified and I've reported him as SPAM.

Unsettled

image credit - http://foresting.tumblr.com/

It's been days since I heard your voice
Lost and disconnected I feel not by choice
You take your time much like the tortoise
I am the hare in this race, not all that wise?

I jump to conclusions rather quick
Often, to analyze and over think
Conversations stagnate as time tick ticks
Distances apart, toughens us to click

Calm and composed, qualities, unlike you I lack
Emotions you keep in check as I keep looking back
I proceed with caution not to fumble
Don't want no repeats so as to stumble

Too closed, I find you holding back
Not sure what you think or how you react
Stubborn and indecisive about your life choices
I try to weed my mind of those many voices

Confrontations I know you dislike,
I hate to be the one to go on this strike
Being direct is a part of what makes me, ME
I can't help it, it's the only way I know to be

It hurts me more that you don't yet know
I much rather you called it quits, and said, "No!"
I am at the cross roads of Uncertainty and False Hope
Confused and wondering if there is any scope

I like you only too well to let go
It's been months too long to say no
Patient and tolerant, the being I am
It ain't fair, cos I do care a damn!
............................................................
Funny these feelings, now of the past
To think back..what made me steadfast?
One more down and a few more to go...
So long, farewell, until then I stay solo!

 

The Circle of Pressure

I've been thinking..and I've made what I'd like to assume is a stunning discovery, prompted in part by a discussion I had with a good friend recently.

From the moment one shows some signs of comprehension as an infant, one starts being persuaded. The English language brilliantly separates this phenomenon as coaxing, cajoling, pushing, forcing etc..depending on the intensity of persuasion. I'd like to simply think of it classified as - barely there, ok I can feel it, that sort of hurts and OMG stop!

It all begins when you utter your first sound. The second that happens, people are coaxing you to learn words. And when you learn them they are cajoling you to show off in front of other people. Then comes the formal alphabet, followed by numbers, nursery rhymes, a new language, the whole host of subjects in the school syllabus, an art form (martial or otherwise), a sport if possible - should be easy right? And before you forget, nothing less than being the best at everything will suffice.

How many marks did you get? What rank are you in class? Did you win a prize? Were you selected to participate in the school day function? This is only until middle school, mind you. If you grew up in India, the pressure to be good enough to study Science in high school and other related "professional" subjects in your undergraduate degree begins once you hit 10th standard. God forbid if you can't do (23458 x 456.25) / 22.57 in your head or postulate a new Law of Motion. Are you really going to study Economics?..why that's almost as bad as Fine Arts! You can't be serious...you'll come to your senses eventually and B.E. something useful.

Of course, the average child tackles all this with the ease of a veteran, having had tons of practice with deflecting pressure by this point. Collapsed, panting in your college classroom, hoping that this will take you out of the rat race for a bit, you couldn't be more mistaken. We're still in India, and if you're female, the cloud of marriage looms dark on the horizon. This will only be postponed if you have the sense to pursue a post graduate degree, or like most kids, leave to go to school in another country where phone calls can easily be avoided if you so wish. If you're one of those good children that can't possibly ignore the parents, you can always cry student poverty and avoid returning for fear of being met at the airport with a suitable match.

Armed with a formidable list of accomplishments - academic and non, with a steady job in hand, and a partner in tow a few years later, you're heaving a sigh of relief, not accounting for competition at work and the need to outperform everyone else on your team in order to have somewhat of a steady career graph. Just to make things challenging - What about children? You mean you haven't thought about that? That's not acceptable..the only thing in question is the number, we think two is perfect.

Out come the offspring sooner or later, and when they display the first sign of comprehension, it begins again. I think Tim Rice sums it up perfectly - 

"From the day we arrive on the planet, And blinking, step into the sun 

There's more to see than can ever be seen, more to do than can ever be done.

There's far too much to take in here, more to find than can ever be found."

- The Circle of Life, Lion King

It fits, it fits, it fits!!

My skirt is done, it fits and it doesn't look like rubbish! HALLELUJAH!!! I should have probably ironed it before I took a picture, but can you blame me for getting carried away??

To celebrate this coup, I am off on a trip to Seattle and Vancouver, and I couldn't be leaving with a lighter heart! The last month has been rather wearing, and hopefully tasks ending smoothly will be the trend from now on. :)

Sharpening My Needle

You know how there's that one thing you will always muck up, no matter how much practice you've had? No? Well, I have that one thing, and that thing is threading a needle. I've done all kinds of other things that are much more complicated..like Yoga-Asanas, learning how to cook, repairing broken furniture (you get the general idea..). You'd think threading a needle should be a breeze. It's not. And to all those of you who can sew, I don't care for your eye-rolls, and I certainly don't care to acknowledge the fact that you find this thing simple. I will ignore you for the rest of this post. (But don't stop reading!!!)

Way back in middle school (circa 1994) we'd have this slot every week called 'Work Experience'. Looking back, I don't think people would've been lining up to give us jobs on the strength of this. All of us would eagerly look forward to these classes because it meant being able to put away the boring textbooks, and basically faff as much as you could possibly manage for two whole hours.

That is, everyone except me. Because you see, while there were such cool things as gardening, textile dyeing and baking, I got drafted into needlework! WTF!? I mean seriously..I blame my genes for this. I've always been told I look like a "good girl", so I guess I just seemed like one of those girls that would take well towards domestication and such harmless, housewifely activities as sewing a button and darning a hole in my future husbands Lungis.

In any case, I accepted my lot, and channeled my resentment into dreams of being the 'Mistress of Seams'. I only managed 'Mistress of Screams' from nearly sewing my fingers into the damn cloth, time and time again. And this was only after I managed to thread the needle - which meant I "sewed" for about 10 minutes total every class.

Considerably injured, and insulted relentlessly by the teacher, who had rubbished me in every way from my femininity to my general human worth, I reached a point where I wanted to learn how to sew just so I could seal that mouth shut.

Thanks to some of my talented peers, we were all compulsorily enrolled into an embroidery contest at the end of the term, and I was given a handkerchief with a pre-drawn design of flowers. I had helped my Mum do one of those cross-stitch art things, and I was a little less intimidated about this contest than my classes. I finished before time, and took my work to the teacher, who was wide-eyed with surprise as she told me I'd done a brilliant job.

Then it all went to shit. She turned the hankie over and her expression changed to one of utter disgust while she showed the whole class what I had done. The sight of the massive multi-coloured bunch of knotted threads haunts me to this day. No one told me the back mattered.

I managed to whine and beg my mother to do my class assignments for me, and I scraped through with a non-fail grade. I vowed then that I would never, ever pick up a needle again.

Cut to 2010. I'm tired of explaining my designs to tailors, and I am fed up of them botching my grand plans consistently. In light of these distressing developments, I decided to suck up the residual self pity and enrolled myself in a sewing class. Shockingly, I have not been thrown out, and I will admit under extreme blackmail to actually enjoying it. *GULP* They say admission is the first step to recovery..so hopefully my classes will continue to be injury less, and while I still struggle with the needle threading part..it sure feels good to plan my comeback - which will involve shoving a wonderfully finished garment in the face of my middle school teacher.