Dear 2022, be kind!

It is the last day of year 2021. Morning routine was no different than any other Friday morning of the past year. The good part about last week of December is the block leave that leads to org wide downtime. After breakfast, I was generally reading articles and new year resolution posts doing rounds on the internet. It was natural to reflect on how my year went by. While it came with many ups and downs at work, in personal relationships, in living up to the cadre of being a mother, a daughter, a wife, I think 2021 was by far the hardest year for me professionally. Just sending the vibes out there in the universe, 2022, please be KIND!

It was just a wish...

I am the older of the two siblings. I am a girl, by god's grace born in privilege. Let me explain how. It was an ovarian lottery that I had lucked out on to be born in a family that did not differentiate. My parents gave me everything they gave to their son - best education, equal opportunities, similar beliefs and values, comparable freedom to do anything and everything. I also had the liberty to pick my groom. Sounds normal? Not really, if you are a girl child born in suburban small town of Rajasthan, it's more of an exception than a norm. Many of my own class mates who attended the best convent school in town and belonged to the richest marwari families were denied this basic right - the right of being treated as equal. I am slightly more grateful than most of my peers because I was lucky more than anything else to deserve the family I was born in.

While, I cherished being a girl child all the way until I became a woman, I always wanted a son when I embraced motherhood - not for any patriarchal reasons. I just wanted one. It was just as natural an instinct as having a girl child. It did not have any personal traumatic deep roots into being treated unfairly as a girl child. It was just a desire to have a baby boy. Simple, period. But I kept that desire to myself because I knew I would be brutally rebuked for expressing it. More so, because of being on the receiving end of the privilege I described above, I had no reasons whatsoever to be worried about raising a girl child.

While many friends and family members proudly vocalized and declared their desire to have or adopt a baby girl, I was always fearful that my desire for a baby boy will be frowned upon and will be judged to no end. And boy where my fears baseless? Hell no. I was bang on. My own husband doubted my mentality and progressive upbringing. Then my in-laws and finally when my parents came to know about it, it hurt them a lot. Everyone that mattered in life was ashamed and disappointed in me to no end knowing that I had wished for a baby boy all along.

But my point is WHY? Why is a personal opinion or simple desire under a scanner every time it is expressed? Why is someone judged so easily on multiple dimensions if their opinion is different than what majority thinks is "right". Are we being tolerant if opinions and point of views of others when expressed are different than our beliefs? I simply wonder why can't "wanting a baby boy" be as natural as "wanting a baby girl"? Aren't we being unfair to our sons in the quest to establish equal rights for girls? Why can't a mother be vocal about expressing love for wanting a son? For god sake, I wasn't going to indulge in female foeticide in the wish for having a son or would have treated my girl child badly. It wasn't going to be the case that if I had a girl child I would have felt terrible or would have felt " just settled". I would have been equally happy. It's just about speaking out a preference.  My mother is a feminist. I am a feminist. I am all for equal opportunities for both genders and wouldn't hesitate to support upliftment of women. My desire for wanting a son is not wrong. It's as natural a desire as someone secretly wishing for a daughter. Sons are mothers blood and flesh too.

The world has progressed to making choices between wanting to have "babies" and adopting "dogs". And we as a society are still stuck in judging people who desire to have a boy vs girl! "Tolerance", "respect" and "giving benefit of doubt" for opinions different than ours is the key in sensitive and highly subjective matters such as these.

And, if daughters are precious, sons are angels too - remember all Archangels Michael, Gabriel, Raphael?

It is the little things that you do...

...that make me fall in love with you, all over again! I may not have said a thank you every time I should have, but what makes it worthwhile is that you understood every time I meant it.

• Putting a blanket over me when I had gone off to sleep working on my laptop
• Bringing me water in the middle of the night when I was too tired to get it on my own
• Sending an I love you text just before entering the house in the evening
• Asking me to call you before I boarded a flight
• Letting me sleep to my hearts content on Sunday's even though you secretly wished I would get up to have that morning tea with you at 7
• Never sleeping over an argument;  

...are few of the many things that I am thankful for! 

You have your quirks and I have mine, but I am glad to live with them for we push each other to make our lives better every day.

shabdkosh and vyapaar

One of the best things about moving to India has been that I have been able to spend my weekend with the people I love the most....and doing things that I have always wanted to.... Good Friday and Easter weekend was spent playing rounds and rounds of Monopoly and Scrabble with bro and N....

Scheming against each other, falling off the bed while laughing uncontrollably, eating the early morning snack at 3 AM with lots of Thumbs Up, fighting for every dice throw - Bliss....I had missed this and so much more in the last few years....

They give us the roots, and they give us the wings...

......and then...we fly away!

His father stood outside the house, gazing in the dark, waiting for him to make a generous visit of 22 hours, 22 minutes and 22 seconds.

I am not sure if he noticed it or not, but I certainly did. At 40 something, he was still his parents little one. As he devoured on home made idlis, dosa & sambhar rice, fondly prepared by his mother, his parents stood on either side of the table, watching him eat. While his mother served him some more rice and curd, his father made sure that he had pickle to go with it. The satisfaction that reflected on their face was a sight to capture...

Never had I missed my camera so much as I did yesterday when I visited parents of this most revered  teacher and mentor of mine - Prof. RV. A traditional south Indian dinner and a wonderful conversation with 3 generations of his family gathered in the same room, made my first visit to Chennai, worth remembering.