Remember my last post in which I wrote about either being pregnant or having worms crawling inside me? As it turns out, we are pregnant. So, yeah, life is indeed taking shape in my belly. I 'saw' the heartbeat today, and cannot believe there's actually someone, a person (OK, a tadpole-like thing, which will most definitely grow up to be a cute, healthy baby) inside me. Pregnancy, however, has not been all that kind to me. Morning sickness (which BTW lasts ALL day) and shortness of breath make me want to kill myself every few hours. And why do women not talk about scans more often? The least they can do is hang banners in each city warning new moms about the scans, and also the fact that an ulrascan is actually carried out in TWO parts, external (the kind we all know about) AND internal! Moms...you owe it to new moms and women planning a family.
Love Hubby even more when he sits with me helplessly, watching me fight the urge to throw up. Love him for all the smallest things he does to ensure I'm feeling ok. Makes me want to give him hickeys all over his face.
So people, I didn't digress today. Am I going to be an obssessed mother?
Monday, 6 October 2008
Sunday, 7 September 2008
Random thoughts
I had forgotten how it feels to laze around doing nothing. Love the feeling
I've been eating like a maniac for a week. Either I’m pregnant or I have worms in my tummy. In any case, there's life taking shape in my belly. Cheers!
People I can ask to make tea for me any time of the day: Hubby, Ma, Li'l (but she started obeying my commands only after got married; marriage is good!), Older
Wasn't I supposed to start working on my CV last weekend? And create an account with naukri etc? Why have I not done it? Am I really taken in by a comfy work life and a handsome package? What's wrong with me? Get your ass (actually the keys on your keyboard) moving, Babe.
Moment on Truth is a great show.
I miss Delhi. Sigh. Maybe I should find a job in Delhi.
That's it people. Can't think of more things. My mind keeps digressing.
I've been eating like a maniac for a week. Either I’m pregnant or I have worms in my tummy. In any case, there's life taking shape in my belly. Cheers!
People I can ask to make tea for me any time of the day: Hubby, Ma, Li'l (but she started obeying my commands only after got married; marriage is good!), Older
Wasn't I supposed to start working on my CV last weekend? And create an account with naukri etc? Why have I not done it? Am I really taken in by a comfy work life and a handsome package? What's wrong with me? Get your ass (actually the keys on your keyboard) moving, Babe.
Moment on Truth is a great show.
I miss Delhi. Sigh. Maybe I should find a job in Delhi.
That's it people. Can't think of more things. My mind keeps digressing.
Thursday, 21 August 2008
Tuesday, 19 August 2008
Back after months (only to digress maybe)
It's been a long time since I was here the last time. A lot has happened. Lots of holidays. Lots of happy memories. Lots of work. Not much reading for pleasure, but a few new recipes. Hubby's been much more busy these past weeks than ever and I'm not really liking it. Who will? I'm in this strange, ugly, uninteresting city, with only work-friends for company. Duh. My real friends, M Y O W N friends, are in Delhi, Australia and Mumbai. And one of them doesn't even talk to me.
I bought a copy of My Three Mistakes in Life last weekend, but I wanted You are here. The store didn't have a copy of the latter, so I picked up the former. Hubby's in Kolkata, and has picked up a copy for me. One more reason to miss him. Not that any was needed. I miss him any way.
Leaving now, but will be back soon. Miss me babies.
I bought a copy of My Three Mistakes in Life last weekend, but I wanted You are here. The store didn't have a copy of the latter, so I picked up the former. Hubby's in Kolkata, and has picked up a copy for me. One more reason to miss him. Not that any was needed. I miss him any way.
Leaving now, but will be back soon. Miss me babies.
Wednesday, 21 November 2007
Nostalgia oh dear
Written on 20 November 2007. Posted the next day
I’ve gone into a nostalgic mode since Sunday. It was sheer impulse that made me open my journal last night. (Yeah, I maintained one for a few weeks last year.) I was surprised at how many pages I had filled up and how much space Hubby (then a crush) had occupied (half of it by scale). My writing style too surprised me a bit. Maybe one day I'll post some of it here.
Life was so different then. I spent almost all my weekends travelling and catching up with friends. To fill my week, I commissioned authors for a prominent (smug look) publishing house. Wow! Ever noticed how talking in past tense about an ex-office renders it an aura of glory. The office wasn’t all that great when I worked there. But hey it did give me enough fodder for my online chats with Hubby. God bless my ex-boss for torturing me :) I used to look forward to our chats. God bless G-Talk guys as well. Our daily chats always left me feeling happy and unhappy at the same time. Happy for having spent so-and-so-many hours chatting up with him and knowing him better, and unhappy for having to end it. These chats normally started around 7pm and ended at well 10pm, then 11, then 12 and then even later. (Can you see a correlation of the ‘closing time’ with how our equation developed?) OK guys more later. I have this immense urge to digress.
It’s 20th November again. Papa would have been 60 today. S I X T Y! That’s a lot many years older than what he was the last time I saw him. On his pyre. Or was it at Har Ki Paudi in Haridwar a few days later when the priest said the ceremony was over, but I refused to leave until I saw all traces of him washed away be the strong current of the Ganges, and when a part of him got stuck between two stones, I edged forward and ensured it broke free and flowed to I-don’t-know-where.
I’ll always remember that cold winter morning. Not just because that was my last physical contact with him, but also because we had let him down by saying goodbye in a typical Hindu ritualistic manner, the one he avoided, in fact shunned, all his life. I wish there were rituals to say goodbye to non-believers. Come to think of it, one doesn’t really need rituals. They are just ways of spending money on pundits and feeling smug at having fulfilled religious (really? Or psychological?) responsibility. As Papa used to say, the real responsibility is when people are alive and you can look after them, especially in their old age. “No point crying over your dead who-ever-is-dead if you were not around when he/she was ill or happy. You didn’t share that then. So don’t show your crocodile tears now.” I almost hear him say.
Happy b’day Papa
I’ve gone into a nostalgic mode since Sunday. It was sheer impulse that made me open my journal last night. (Yeah, I maintained one for a few weeks last year.) I was surprised at how many pages I had filled up and how much space Hubby (then a crush) had occupied (half of it by scale). My writing style too surprised me a bit. Maybe one day I'll post some of it here.
Life was so different then. I spent almost all my weekends travelling and catching up with friends. To fill my week, I commissioned authors for a prominent (smug look) publishing house. Wow! Ever noticed how talking in past tense about an ex-office renders it an aura of glory. The office wasn’t all that great when I worked there. But hey it did give me enough fodder for my online chats with Hubby. God bless my ex-boss for torturing me :) I used to look forward to our chats. God bless G-Talk guys as well. Our daily chats always left me feeling happy and unhappy at the same time. Happy for having spent so-and-so-many hours chatting up with him and knowing him better, and unhappy for having to end it. These chats normally started around 7pm and ended at well 10pm, then 11, then 12 and then even later. (Can you see a correlation of the ‘closing time’ with how our equation developed?) OK guys more later. I have this immense urge to digress.
It’s 20th November again. Papa would have been 60 today. S I X T Y! That’s a lot many years older than what he was the last time I saw him. On his pyre. Or was it at Har Ki Paudi in Haridwar a few days later when the priest said the ceremony was over, but I refused to leave until I saw all traces of him washed away be the strong current of the Ganges, and when a part of him got stuck between two stones, I edged forward and ensured it broke free and flowed to I-don’t-know-where.
I’ll always remember that cold winter morning. Not just because that was my last physical contact with him, but also because we had let him down by saying goodbye in a typical Hindu ritualistic manner, the one he avoided, in fact shunned, all his life. I wish there were rituals to say goodbye to non-believers. Come to think of it, one doesn’t really need rituals. They are just ways of spending money on pundits and feeling smug at having fulfilled religious (really? Or psychological?) responsibility. As Papa used to say, the real responsibility is when people are alive and you can look after them, especially in their old age. “No point crying over your dead who-ever-is-dead if you were not around when he/she was ill or happy. You didn’t share that then. So don’t show your crocodile tears now.” I almost hear him say.
Happy b’day Papa
Monday, 19 November 2007
Thoughts crossing my mind right now:
I have acidity…that chicken must have been dead for a day before it went to the wok
Paashu, I know you are upset with me, but hope you understand that my life has changed a lot
My passport…will apply in December
That weighing machine on the fourth floor is definitely messed up because I’m not that light
I want to go to sleep right now and wake up tomorrow at noon and I don’t mind taking days off from work for that. But I have no days of leave left, but what the heck, I’ll go on leave without pay
Will I ever get rid of this substandard skin that I was born with?
I miss Ankur, my bestest friend ever. Ever. And life had to mess it up this badly.
Who describes her birth (walls covered in dark red velvet and lots of books around, I think) vividly in her book…? Simone de Beauvoir? Memoirs of a Dutiful Daughter? Why does she call herself dutiful? Was she? Hey where’s it? Mom’s place? In Delhi? Another planet? Or just a different age? Ohhhh I want to sleep
No groundnut at home
I don’t want to play the who-does-more-(avoidable)work-and-wastes-more-time-in-kitchen game
Why can’t all people have a sense of self and stop living for others?
I have to edit her CV…oh poor girl…not even 25 and a forced housewife in a joint family! Sigh! Hope you get a job. Soon
The weather’s really nice
Mmmm…those heavenly handmade chocolates in kitchen…must polish off a few tonight
I have acidity…that chicken must have been dead for a day before it went to the wok
Paashu, I know you are upset with me, but hope you understand that my life has changed a lot
My passport…will apply in December
That weighing machine on the fourth floor is definitely messed up because I’m not that light
I want to go to sleep right now and wake up tomorrow at noon and I don’t mind taking days off from work for that. But I have no days of leave left, but what the heck, I’ll go on leave without pay
Will I ever get rid of this substandard skin that I was born with?
I miss Ankur, my bestest friend ever. Ever. And life had to mess it up this badly.
Who describes her birth (walls covered in dark red velvet and lots of books around, I think) vividly in her book…? Simone de Beauvoir? Memoirs of a Dutiful Daughter? Why does she call herself dutiful? Was she? Hey where’s it? Mom’s place? In Delhi? Another planet? Or just a different age? Ohhhh I want to sleep
No groundnut at home
I don’t want to play the who-does-more-(avoidable)work-and-wastes-more-time-in-kitchen game
Why can’t all people have a sense of self and stop living for others?
I have to edit her CV…oh poor girl…not even 25 and a forced housewife in a joint family! Sigh! Hope you get a job. Soon
The weather’s really nice
Mmmm…those heavenly handmade chocolates in kitchen…must polish off a few tonight
Sunday, 18 November 2007
I used to be myself
I used to be myself...not long ago. I know I'll be back one day. Just don't know when. Hope some time soon. or even a bit late, but hope not too late. At least not late enough to not feel like myself. Confused eh? I'll be back.
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