The Chase

She looked at me with her innocent eyes

And asked me what I kept searching for

I looked around yet again searching for what lies

Behind a huge closed door

I tell myself happiness is right behind

I may have to follow it just a few more miles

I can’t help but notice what is always on my mind

It is to follow the happiness till it is mine

Sometimes it is getting an object or two 

Other times it is achieving a goal I may have set

But if I look inside to see if it is true

I find that it has nothing to do with what I will get

What if I got everything I had ever wished for

What if I had achieved every milestone and every target

What if I don't find happiness in spite of all the downpour

Of things and objects and materials I could ever get

What does it mean to have everything yet nothing

What does it mean to feel abundant yet empty

Does it amount all my desires to something

Or does it leave me with more wants and envy

It feels more natural to search outside in this endless sky

Than to take a peek within

This eternal chase to find happiness makes the time fly by

And I lose the sight that it is not about the win

It is about finding the spark inside of me

And not looking for the next big thing to achieve

It is about finding the small things that set me free

A tiny smile that makes me want to believe

A little gaze that is wider than the sea

It is about giving up the chase and time to receive 

The world of happiness that is inside me

I know now I am the key.

The balance

At first when Samaira was born, I went into a full blown over-protective mode. I wanted to save her from the world. Make this world better so I could remove obstacles from her course. But I learned rather quickly, or not so quickly, that she does not need that level of protection from me. Rehan does not need that level of protection from me. 

In fact, sometimes I feel like I need to protect others from them. We all know that the world knows no fury like the fury of a toddler whose wishes are not granted.

They may, and most likely will, face bullying in their lives. I want to be there to support them. To face it. To combat it. To be strong. To emerge winners out of a hopeless situation. In fact I have had the conversation in my head several times. People who bully are unhappy and insecure people. They try to find happiness in other people’s misery. They try to find easy targets to find their own happiness. When someone bullies you, they want you to be sad so that they can be happy. If someone bullies you, look them in their eyes and tell them “I feel sorry for you. I hope you will find a way to happy by not hurting someone one day.”  Definitely don't stand and watch if someone hurts you physically. Fight back. Protect yourself. But people who fight with words are deeply insecure people and don't let their words hurt you. Words hurt in that moment. But when you look someone in their eye, you will see beyond their words. And don’t ever let someone like that hurt you too much. Just a little bit, maybe. Nothing that cakes or good music or good company can’t fix. Obviously, easier said than done. But I have had this conversation so many times in my head. 

But a part of me is also worried about my kids hurting other people. I know it is all about parenting, but what if it is not. I will try my best to raise Samaira and Rehan as humble and empathetic individuals. But it is possible that they will not always be the victims. At some point in life I will have to stand by a victim and tell my kids that they made a mistake and that they need to fix it. I know I am willing to do that. But I am not quite sure what that conversation would look like. I don’t have to know it already. I am perfectly fine being spontaneous. But for an over thinker like me, I surprise myself that I am not able to concoct a conversation I have pictured a scenario for. 

But in the meantime I continue my journey to resolve Samaira and Rehan’s innumerable struggles for blocks, dolls, blankets, forks, plates, and so on. And dote on their evident display of affection, love and care. They balance their own actions and they balance each other out. I do believe that all kids are like that. They are all sweet angels, feisty monkeys, innocent charmers, naive thinkers, straight forward go-getters. They are capable of deeper thoughts than we expect of them, fighting over the most inconsequential things so much so that we have to pinch ourselves if it is for real, displaying the most loving gestures, and the most helpless temper-tantrums than this universe can comprehend. 

In all honesty I wish this world was a bed of roses. No one, including my kids, would ever be the victims or the bullies. We will just have a happy bouncy earth. In which everyone is good. Happy. Content. But that’s not life. I think and rethink. And as much as I love happy and bliss, what makes it so precious is the opposite of happy and bliss. I am not sure if I will appreciate the good in the same way in the absence of bad. For example, I appreciate good toddler behavior because I have seen really really bad toddler behavior. The very synonyms of life include love, hurt, heal, health, disaster, happy, sad, differences, kind, sad, lousy, hope, and, phoenix-like-something - unstoppable and eternal. It is that balance. We don’t always achieve it. 

But it keeps everything in perspective. 

Reflection

Rehan has found a new obsession. One among his many obsessions. Shadows. He looks at his shadow. He gets excited when he sees shadows. He chases his shadow in an effort to catch it. I remember when Sammy was obsessed with shadows. There is something very fascinating about seeing your own shadow. Even now I find my shadow fascinating. The tall and the short of it. The dark and the light of it. It looks nothing like me. Sometimes I find it hard to believe it is my shadow. But that is the very function of shadow. Shadow is my reflection, yet very different.

The thing about shadow is that it lets you see your reflection as another person. You see it for what it is. You don’t see it is as yourself. You see it as a slightly different entity. So it is easier to be objective about it. 

The thing about reflection is that when we reflect on our past, our actions, our words, our thoughts, it is not always possible to be objective. Not for me, anyway. I am biased for me. Even when I am trying to be objective. I am able to see my shadow as another object. But when I am reflecting on me, I can’t separate it from me. I have shades of gray. Not sure how many. Wink. No pun intended. The point is that I have positives and negatives. There are some people who have seen my good side and believe in my good side. There are some who have seen my bad side and believe in my bad side. Same is true for how I view other people. More often than not, I categorize people and things in “I like them” and “I don't like them” as opposed to “good” and “bad.” I understand that there might be huge overlap in all these quadrants if a venn diagram were to be made. But that makes the whole reflection and being-objective thing so tricky. Reflection is a recursive exercise with the self that never ends.

It is so much easier to see someone else yell or shout and think “Oh, what a jerk. I will never be that person. I will never behave that way with anyone.”  But the reality is that the actions we condone of others are the ones we do ourselves. Several times a day. We don’t judge ourselves the way we judge others. That is because we reflect poorly. It is difficult. I can’t truly reflect on my actions as long as I am seeing myself as me. I need some distance from myself if I want to reflect. This is the reason why I find it difficult to reflect objectively on my actions as they are happening. It is so difficult to distance us from the current. It takes us days, weeks, sometimes years to really understand what happened. What we did wrong.

That said, it is important to reflect. Reflecting is important to grow. As a person. As a human. It allows us to hope for a better tomorrow than today. It empowers us to not repeat our mistakes, or repeat them knowingly. It tries to fight ignorance of the self. There are different levels of ignorance and I think the ignorance of self is the most dangerous. Lack of reflection does not change the reality. And knowing the real you is important. You may or may not want to do anything once you have the knowledge of the real you. You may just want to embrace your positives and negatives in all their glory. But that awareness gives us the perspective to know that each one of us has various facets to our personality. There is no single good or bad. Your good could be my bad, and vice versa. It allows us to accept us for who we are. It gives us the chance to be a better version of us. If we want to be, of course. Or just skip to the next step if we don’t want to change.

The point of this super abstract thought process is, that reflection allows us to acknowledge and accept ourselves in the present. It allows us the opportunity to potentially be better. It allows people around us to learn and grow with us. It is one of the most important things I do in my subconscious mind. Obviously non-scientifically speaking.

I just wish I could view it like a shadow. Mine. But not quite me.

Kids reflect differently, I think.

10

10 sounds like a lot. But it doesn't feel like a lot. In fact, it is shocking how big a number it sounds to how short the actual time period feels. Yesterday we celebrated 10 years of being together as a husband and wife. June 30th. One of the most important days of our lives. Siddharth and I are far from perfect. As far away as you can possibly imagine. As individuals. As a couple. As parents. As a lot of different things. Siddharth actually makes an effort to be a better person everyday. It is typically a non-goal for me. He talks a lot in terms of “that is the right thing to do” and “that is wrong on our part, we shouldn't do this.” I entertain my greed and selfish side plenty. The point is, we are not perfect. But we love each other that way. We prefer each other that way. In fact, we really like each other. I don't have a lot more to say or add to it. We are a team. A solid team. And I can’t imagine, not for one day, my life without him. 

We did celebrate our anniversary in Vegas this past weekend....sans kids...thanks to our super amazing friends!!

My Men

My brother, my sister or I could have done the absolute worst thing on this planet, but we know if we were to go to our Dad and tell him that, his very first reaction will be to give us a hug and say “I love you.” And then he will get to the point and tell us whatever it is that we need to be told. It is unreal how much patience he has when it comes to us. The comfort in knowing that you can go to your Dad with any problem and in any situation is a cushion that is unparalleled. My Dad is my absolute first love and the most special man in my life. Dads are special beings that way. 

Siddharth is the next special man in my life. I could count endless reasons for why he is so special. He is my best friend. He has stood by me through all the good and the bad times. He has always made me a priority. He knows me way too well. I love who he is with Sammy and Rehan. He is as integral part of their routine and life, just as I am. I am so so proud of Siddharth for being the way he is. 

I have never complained to Siddharth about the stereotypical stuff. Like pick up your socks. Pick up your towel. Help with the laundry or the dishes. Help with the kids. Help with cleaning the house. Etc. On the contrary, he does most of these things before I can get to it. So I never ever complain to Siddharth about any of it. Most of the times I end up saying “Thanks, Siddhu. For everything.” Even the kids are quite aware of this phenomena in our house. Anytime they see Siddharth walking in the pantry, they know out will come a broom or a vacuum. So when Siddharth enters the pantry, Rehan says “Daddy, are you cleaning?” Yes. That’s our dynamic. I am not saying this to prove that I am the lazy one. Oh, God no ;). The point is that if I am busy doing something else, Siddharth will be finishing some or the other task without even mentioning it. Without making any deal about it at all. It is a whole different story that Siddharth is way more particular about household stuff than I am. I remember in our initial years together, I used to fold the laundry and Siddharth would re-fold it. Most of it anyway. My reaction was often “Whaaat? Why?” And he would go on to show the right way to fold shirts, pants, towels and even underwears. No joke. He has a method to it all. Anyway, the point is, he is a true partner for me. In every possible way. I don’t know where Siddharth gets all his energy from. At the end of the day, he rarely complains about being tired. He knows that Sammy and Rehan will come to him for all the mad fun. They just know who to go to. 

These are the two most special men in my life. There are obviously more men in my life - but these two are my first and long lasting loves. So on this non-Father’s day, because Father’s day has come and gone, I want to acknowledge how lucky I am to have these two men in my life. My Dad, and the Dad of my children. I do not take them for granted even for a single day.

The thing about being a parent

A friend asked me a long time ago “Why should I have kids? I have a perfect life. I can travel when I want, where I want. I can lay under the stars in the middle of the night and enjoy it with my husband, in peace. I don’t have to tend to any crying babies and poopie diapers. My time is at my disposal. Why would I give that up to have a child and lose my freedom?” I gave her a text book answer of “They change your life. It is a mind-blowing experience in spite of the middle-of-the-night feedings and poopie diapers. Trust me.” But over the years I have realized that I don’t really have a good answer for her question. If someone is really hesitant to give up their freedom to have a child, there is no convincing required to how awesome a child can be. At the end of the day it is a personal choice and there is no right or wrong. These are just different experiences and people choose the experience they want to live. I can only talk about my experience. Only somewhat. I am limited by my vocabulary and what words can convey.

What a child brings to your life can only and only be felt after the child is born. Maybe you were born with a maternal instinct and always knew you would make a great mom. But if you weren’t, which I wasn’t, then there is no outside force, discussion, argument, reasoning or logic that would have convinced me to have a child. I had a child because I wanted to, for no specific reason except I felt more ready than ever at that point in time. That’s it. There wasn’t more thought into it. There wasn’t any less thought. It was that exact amount of “I’m ready, I think.” 

The moment when Sammy was put on my bare chest within 5 seconds of being born is really when my maternal instinct hit me for the very first time. That’s when she went from being a sort of an unreal-reality, who was mostly real via the ultrasound pictures and in-tummy-hiccups, to being a real flesh and blood person lying on me, 5 inches away from my eyes. Seeing is believing, they say. And that’s what made it real for me. I felt tears rolling down my cheeks and I couldn’t frikkin’ stop it. It was uncontrollable. It must be love, I thought. I was relieved to know I could love a child. Little did I know how much. It is nuts. Everything around me was suddenly brighter, happier, clearer. I clearly remember when Rehan was born, I had this sudden rush of joy and love. It was a slightly familiar territory for me. I held Rehan and I had the instant and uncontrollable urge to be a better person. In that moment of intimacy with him, I felt like I could be standing in front of anyone and I would shower love on them. I could forgive anyone. I felt like he made me a better person in an instant. It is extremely strange and I have no idea how to explain it. But holding him for the first time made me want to be a better person. That thought of being a better person stayed with me for a bit before I went back to being myself. Oh, well. 

I must also point out that unlike the popular notion, new borns aren’t the cutest thing in the world. They are often times quite the opposite. Their skin in wrinkled, their nose is somewhat squished from being born, they look nothing like what they would look like in just a few months. To top it, labor and birthing are hard. Really really incredibly hard. If it is possible to fall in love with a new born in a state of extreme frenzy, then it is a kind of feeling that can only be felt and cannot be explained. It is mere impossible. Up until having Sammy I thought I knew love inside out. I have always been crazy in love with my family, my dogs and thought I could get an honorary doctorate in love if there was one. But I was so wrong. The birth of my children showed me I didn't know a thing about love. I didn’t even know the “U” of unconditional. I get it now. I get it more every day.

The point is, having a child is life changing. It is unsurmountable joy and love that weirds you out because of the sheer intensity of it. It is a rush. It is a change in priorities. It brings back the innocence you lost, a little bit at least. So to say that anyone could have told me what a child would do to my life, before I had a child, is a fallacy. No words, no person, no song, no empathy could have really told me how I would feel after being a mom. I could only feel it one way. The only way. It required no convincing. That’s the thing about being a parent - you have to want to get there on your own, without any convincing. 

So I don’t really have any words for someone who wouldn’t want to give up their freedom by having a child. If you ever go through it, you will see it for yourself. Or else, you will continue to enjoy your freedom. No words of wisdom there.

At this point, I can’t imagine what I did with my time before Sammy and Rehan were born. I love myself more now that they are in my life. I love who they are. They are fascinating little creatures and small things they do can turn my rotten day into a feeling that can only be compared to being high. Not that I know what being high feels like. But I have heard and I can relate. 

Don’t get me wrong. Kids are a full time job. They are exhausting. They are tiring. They are testy. They can make you testy. They throw tantrums at the most critical times and places. They embarrass you, although the concept of embarrassment does not exist for them. They don’t want to eat when its time to eat. But they might wake up in the middle of the night hungry and starving. Everyone has a different take on parenting. Not a right or a wrong take. Just a different take. Siddharth and I are relatively easy going - with kids’ learning, their eating, their almost everything. We don’t fill our days trying to teach our kids new things. We spend most times playing with them and singing to them. We eat together. There are days when they don’t want to eat and I am ok with that. I don’t fret about it, I don’t feel bad about, and I don’t feel guilty about it either. I got that from my mom and sister, I think. My nieces are picky eaters but I never saw my sister or mom running behind them trying to feed them. I do mimic my sister and mom a lot when it comes to being a parent. I don’t wait for my kids to finish eating to eat my own food. I take care of myself plenty. I make myself a priority. I do love my kids to the moon and back. They are my world and my universe. But there are more things in my world and the universe. I love that Sammy and Rehan are as obsessed with Siddharth as they are with me. I love that they need him as much as they need me. The only thing we build into our agenda for sure is running around the house for 20-30 min. Everything else is up in the air. It happens to be Sammy and Rehan’s favorite game. “Daddy, I want to catch you.” “Daddy, run.” They say. This is our parenting style. It sounds really adorable sometimes, selfish some other times, and borderline careless some of the times when I read it out loud. But that’s me. That’s us. 

Being a parent is hard. Most of the times you are second guessing yourself. “Did I break my child?” “Did I do something wrong?” The other half of the times other people judge you. It is a tricky territory to be in. I do admire mom’s and dad’s with all different parenting styles. It is quite amazing to see the uniqueness that is there in every parent-child relationship. Sometimes we learn from them. Sometimes we choose not to learn. In either case, it is admirable. There is nothing more precious than seeing a mom or dad hug their child with all the love in the world irrespective of their parenting style. That’s the thing about parenting. There are so many ways to bring up a child. I think any and all approaches are fine as long as there is love. The rest falls into the bucket of individual family dynamic, which is, like it sounds - individual. 

These  crazies...is why I know love better!

I Wonder

So here is my excuse. I think I have changed. Not exactly. But kind of sort of. Or maybe I have not changed at all. Instead, I have hit a realization. I have always written. I have been blogging since 2003. I used to blog in another location back then. So I am familiar with this territory. But over the last few months, every thing I wrote had a hint of __ in it. I don’t have the exact word for it, just yet. So let me come back and fill it in later. But when I read my own writing, it felt like I was pretending. Like I am standing on some higher ground and everyone should come and read what I write. Because, hey, I am that good (sarcasm). I am not a preacher in my attitude. I am not a teacher by profession. I am no expert in my caliber. And yet when I write I say “Listen to my words of wisdom.”  Not in those exact words, but in some shape or form. And I hated the smell of it in my writing. I realize that it comes with the territory of writing a blog. The fact that I have a placeholder where I write and it is available for public consumption implies that I am writing with the knowledge that people will read. There is an air of presumptuousness in that assumption. And I dislike being associated with that air. So even though I wrote, I didn’t feel like posting anything. I just wasn't happy with the content and the quality and it left me not wanting to share what I wrote. I myself love to read other blogs. I realize that I gravitate more toward humble writing. I find that more attractive and entertaining. Anyway, I clearly overcame that reservation. Not because I stopped being preachy. Neither because I am ok with being preachy. It is just that I am slowly coming to terms with the perils of this platform and accepting it. The fact of the matter is, I missed writing a blog. I just wonder how honest and true I can stay to myself when I write. The answer is, I don't know. I will continue to wonder about it without stifling my creative instinct to write. So, I think I will resume writing for now.

And now, people, listen up. I have something very important to say. Totally kidding.

Since I am writing a blog after a long time, I figured I’d start easy. Something that I won’t have to think too much about. Something that will start, flow, finish and I won’t even know it. Something that will be a result of me tying non-stop without any pause. 

So I decided to write about a few random things I wonder about.

Just the other day I was watching a video of a man under water, in a half-cage (open from top), surrounded by fishes and a shark. The shark came close to the man, that man petted it, and in a few seconds the shark went around him and around the rope that was holding the cage in the water and vanished. Maybe to appear again. I don’t know. Then there were these other small fishes swimming around the man, around the boat, around the rope. And I wondered, what is that shark thinking? What are these fishes thinking? Are they happy? Sad? Angry? Curious? Upset? Excited? Nervous? I really really wanted to get in their heads and know what was going on inside. Do they like human company? Do they gossip about us? I wonder what would happen if I could read animal minds? I will have so much more empathy for the world. Maybe. Wouldn’t that be nice? I wonder.

Rehan has this sweater with a green colored teeny-tiny dinosaur on it. For some reason I kept calling it a crocodile. In my defense it is too small to really tell the difference. Rehan came to me one day, pointed to the creature and asked “Mumma, what is this?” He likes to test his mum’s general knowledge from time to time. I responded “I don't know. What is it?” He said “It is croco-dinosaur.”  How does he come up with stuff like that? I wonder what will happen if I were to leave his imagination alone and not interfere with his thoughts. Kids are creative. They have no bias and prejudices. They think pure. They talk pure. They think the unthinkable and they speak the unspeakable. They are fearless about failing. The more we interfere with this natural tendency, the more they lose this ability. I wonder when and how to stop interfering and just let them be.

Sammy has taken on the big sister role quite effortlessly. She is constantly telling Rehan what to do and what not to do. “Rehan, walk here.” “Rehan, hold my hand.” “Rehan, don’t kick.” “Rehan, I don’t like it, ok?”  She is three and half already. She grew up to this point rather quickly. It feels like yesterday when Rehan was born and Samaira was super excited to play with the new baby in town. At some point she even wondered when this new baby was going back to his home. Eventually she settled with the idea that he is here to stay. Now, after having shared a two year camaraderie with her brother, she knows she is the big sister. And she knows how to be one. I wonder when that transition happened in her mind. She didn't even let me know of this metamorphosis. My little girl is growing up.

Sometimes I wonder why growing up takes so long. I spent my teens trying to get people’s attention. In my 20s I realized attention isn't everything. There is college, friends, family, food, nature and so much more to look forward to than mere attention. I spent my 20s being insecure about myself. In my 30s, I am finally realizing that I have no one else to please but myself. The person I need to love first and foremost is me. The way I love me is how others will love me. I don’t know why I couldn't get it in my 20s? Like, really-really get it. Why did I have to be in my 30s to feel so secure about myself? I would have spent my 20s with so much more confidence and flare had I figured it out then. I am spending my 30s learning to forgive and forget and not be angry about stupid stuff other people do. But why is it so hard to do? I think I will be somewhere in my 40s when I will ultimately get it. Sometimes I tell myself “grow up already!” But sometimes I wonder if growing up is such a good thing after all. On one hand it gives you stability and peace. But on the other hand it takes some bit of innocence away. I wonder which one is better.

Last few days I have been cooking my childhood non-favorites. All the vegetables and curries I didn’t like growing up. I like them now. I am obsessed with them now. I remember I absolutely disliked these vegetables and curries. I would be upset the day my mom would cook one of these items. I have always been emotionally attached to food. But several years down the road, and I am loving the same things I detested early on. How did that happen? When did it begin? I wonder.

I wonder how Siddharth is the man he is. He will be considered an Inhuman in the world of Marvel comics. No, it is not the same inhuman as we refer to in the English language. Inhuman have special powers in Marvel’s world and Siddharth’s special power will be being a nice person. If I point out something I don’t like about someone, his immediate response is something that indicates understanding of what the other person might be going through. How? How is the world so black and white, and mostly white, for him? Why do people never have bad intentions in his world? How do people’s not so positive words have something fundamentally positive behind them? This one, I will probably wonder for the rest of my life. I just don't get it.

I wonder what miracles look and feel like. Not “life is a miracle” kind of miracle. A real life miracle in which a genie appears or something disappears or some real life magic happens. I know, I wonder about this kind of stuff too. For real. I wonder about my reaction to such a miracle. Will I freak out? Or will I be like “I knew miracles are possible!”? I guess I will never know.

I wonder why more people don't wonder more. It is quite rejuvenating and empowering.

What did you wonder about today?

These two are as close it comes to miracles as I have seen...

3.21

My favorite part of the day happens at noon. I pick Sammy up from her day care and drop her off to her afternoon pre-school at that time. All the kids in her day care get done with their lunch and are winding down, about ready to take a nap. Some are reading books. Some are singing together.  Some are walking around. Some are taking care of their pee-pee and poo-poo business. Samaira could be doing any of the above activities when I reach there to pick her up. As soon as I enter the class, Samaira comes running to me and says “I love you, mumma,” patting my back as she says that. As if saying “I will take care of you, mum.” My sweet kid. Just as we are about to leave, Sammy’s best friend ‘C’ comes running to her saying “Sammy, no no no no.” Sammy responds with “Come here ‘C’. Give me a hug.” This starts an eternal hug routine in her class in which most of her classmates hug her before she leaves. All the kids in her class are so generous, so nice, so sweet. 

My day is made pretty much everyday at noon.

It is nice to see that my kid is so loved and so loving. It is one of the proud moments for any parent - to see your child form bonds outside of immediate family. We want a strong family foundation. But the world around us is just as important, if not more. 

Word Down Syndrome Day is celebrated on March 21st every year. It signifies 3 copies of the 21st chromosome in each cell. All together 47 chromosomes, as opposed to the typical 46 chromosomes. Chromosome 21 is the smallest human chromosome and it represents about 1.5 - 2% of total DNA in cells. This chromosome contains about 200 to 300 genes that provide instructions for making proteins, performing variety of roles in the body. It is these extra copies of genes on chromosome 21 that disrupt the course of normal development and cause the characteristic features of down syndrome. It is also associated with increased risk of certain health problems.

These, and several others, are medical facts about down syndrome. We, as parents, learn more about it. We absorb it. We try to understand it. We try to monitor it. We aren’t naive about it, just because we have an incentive to get hypothetical PHDs in all related medical aspects. We are not in denial about it either. It’s not like it won’t happen if we don’t think about it (unless of course you believe in that kind of stuff, which I do, but I understand its limitations too). So, it is there at the back of our minds. Always. Not taking any significant real estate until there is a reason to. It doesn’t blur our vision either. We don’t view her issues with a lens of its-because-of-down-syndrome. But we are aware. We aren’t pessimistic about it either. There is the belief, the faith that every challenge needs to met with an equal and opposite resolve of the will. Some battles we will win, and some we won’t. That’s alright. Fighting that battle is important. Not giving up is important. Seeing your child suffer is hard. At first you want to take the suffering away, because it is so unfair. Then you want your kid to make it through. Be strong. Be resilient. Survive it. Even if it is something as simple as a cough or a congestion. Health is important and we realize it all too well.

Samaira needs more effort and time in completing her tasks, so she does ask for patience. But as far as attitude and expectations are concerned, they are no different. Our expectations are that both our kids are nice people, give their 100%, not give up, learn to rise from ashes, find the meaning of life - you know, the simple business as usual kind of stuff. No biggie. Jokes aside. We are not living our lives with any mission. There isn't a mission to do something or achieve something. We are attempting to live happy lives. It really is that simple.

We are so blessed to be surrounded with so many lovely people. I say it a lot. I will say it a lot more in future. Our ecosystem is kind of mind blowing. Our family and friends rock our world by being such nice and loving people. It sounds quite basic but that’s all you need. That’s all you sometimes cannot find. So we don’t take it for granted. Not at all. We appreciate and value every ounce of that goodness. Everyone around us has a very yes-you-can attitude toward Samaira. Everyone around us loves her unconditionally. It almost gives me a heartache to see how good everyone is. It has spoiled us so much that sometimes we don’t remember that there is a world outside of our world, and it may not be so kind. I honestly don’t know how to prepare for it. But for now, we are basking in the warmth and the company of the people we know.

I remember reading every article, every journal, every blog, every newsletter related to down syndrome in the first year and half of Sammy’s life. We wanted to make sure we were doing everything. We didn’t want to miss an opportunity. It thankfully did not lead us to forgetting to live her childhood. Sammy made sure we enjoyed her every mood, her every look, her every babble, her every toddle. But we are not as crazy into read-everything-out-there mode anymore. We have learned to relax a little. We have realized that the big ocean of information is endless. We will never know it all. We don’t have to know it all. All we have to try to know is Sammy. So we do that.

We only have three years worth of information about down syndrome. We know nothing more. Everything else is a speculation. All our fears, all our optimism, all our planning - is that for an absolute unknown that cannot be predicted. We fear nonetheless. We are optimistic nonetheless. We plan, only somewhat. But on this day, on the world down syndrome day, as I think about spreading awareness about down syndrome - I struggle a little. I am not sure what to tell. We know only so much. So little.

We know of this three year old girl.

Who has beautiful eyes.

Who loves food. Mostly carbs.

Who hates vegetables, from the bottom of her heart.

Who loves to sing lullabies to dolls\bears\people\invisible objects.

Who is on the shorter side, and so are her parents, and brother. 

Who has a hole in her heart that can hopefully heal itself, but we aren't really sure.

Who had sleep apnea.

Who had an adenoidectomy and tonsillectomy. 

Who has started stuttering over the last few months. It does worry us.

Who makes friends in a heart beat.

Who wins hearts in a heartbeat too.

Who deeply cares for her younger brother and also bosses him around plenty.

Who screams nooooooooo anytime we want her to do something she doesn't want, or sometimes screams for no good reason.

Who dances like no one is watching.

Who is averse to public restrooms and it can take up to 20 minutes of waiting and convincing her to go pee-pee in a public potty seat. We have even delayed a flight take off by 10 minutes because Sammy and I were in the restroom on the plane and not ready for takeoff. I am not proud of it. But it definitely makes me chuckle now.

Who loves to sing.

Who starts all her stories with “Once upon a time, there was a …” It could be a lion, a monkey, a table, a blanket. Whatever she feels like.

Who started going to preschool 4 times a week.

Who gets OT\PT and Adaptive therapy a couple of times a week.

Who has a best friend at day care called, ‘C’.

Who has parents, brother, grandparents, uncles, aunts, teachers, friends - who care for her very dearly. 

So this is what we know about down syndrome. This is what we can spread awareness about. This is one angle of down syndrome. I wouldn’t say it is all fairies and lilies and rainbows. But it sure is a whole lot of fun. 


If ever, ever, at all, you have any questions about down syndrome - please ask us. We may not know everything, but we may know some things. For the things we don’t know, we could find the answers together. The world will be a better place if we ask the right questions, have the right attitude, harbor the right vibes. I can’t take all the problems out of Samaira’s life. I don’t want to, anymore. I just hope that she will be stronger and people will be more aware. 

Happy World Down Syndrome Day!

A whole lot of random

It’s been too darn long. I wrote a bunch. But it didn’t flow. So I didn’t post. If it doesn’t flow, it ain’t so. You know what I am sayin’. By the way, when I hear people pronounce a word by skipping the last ‘g’, I add that last ‘g’ in my head. I have to. I can’t take it. I don’t know why. I need that last ‘g’. Except for my name. I almost un-pronounce the last ‘g’ in my name. So weird. Anyway, now that we have this out of the way, I can think of the other important things in life.

The thing is that I like writing when I don’t have to think too much. Too much thinking is a sign of an unsatisfactory writing experience for me. Not that writing is a mindless act. My mind is very much present when I write. Nor is it a thoughtless act. Because it very much reflects my thinking. But there is a fine (or wide?) line between too much thinking and free flowing thinking. 

Anyway. 

It has been way too long.

My mind is all over the place right now. So there will most likely not be a beginning or an end to this post. In fact each paragraph could be its own thing. Like short stories. Really really short stories. I will allow that at the cost of my thoughts flowing freely, because we have established how important it is for my writing experience. There will be no continuity in this post. Disclaimer: Any continuity from one paragraph to the next is purely coincidental.

So what’s new at our end, anyway? 

Siddharth and I have decided to not fight. Ever. It is our new-March resolution. If that is a thing. This resolution lasted for about 5 hours before one of us fought. Key phrase being one of us. In our arguments, we really have just one person fighting. And that is typically me. So in our couples fight, I am normally leading a one person fight. That is because while Siddharth thinks we are having a discussion, I feel like we are having an argument. Our thresholds are so different that more often than not we can’t even agree if we are having a fight. Anyway. Then we re-resolved to not fight. Until we fought again. The point is, we realized that kids are growing up. And our discussions (which could very well be about whether or not we are having a fight) impact our kids more than they impact us. So we are trying this thing called patience. How fancy? Siddharth is not new to it. I am not either. But we are not best of friends - patience and I. We have our differences. In any case, Siddharth and I are trying to not fight. We are succeeding until we fail. Not bad, I say. Funny thing is that now I sometimes try to remember what we used to fight about so much. And I must admit that I don’t even remember. Most of our arguments are silly. They are almost never about the content, and almost always about the tone. Ah, that tone. Siddharth obviously has none of these issues. He is a very simple person. No complicated onion layers to peel. What you see is really what you get. I, on the other hand, need a lot of understanding and a lot of to-be-understood aspect to my personality. I keep thinking of the saying “Understand before you want to be understood.” It is such a powerful statement. I really think this statement makes me a better person. No joke. Sammy & Rehan are turning me into a more cordial person. Whaat !!? Whaaat ?!

Siddharth is really strange because he has a clear definition or standard of what is acceptable and what is not - in life, in general, for himself, for others. But even when people or circumstances don’t comply with his standard, he does not reject them. He accepts them without questioning. I, on the other hand, have a very post-modern view of the world. I am all about subjectivity. Individuality. Respect. There isn’t a right or a wrong. People do what they can, what they want. It is not for us to judge. But in spite of this seemingly liberal point of view, I can’t accept everyone into my teeny-tiny circle with open arms. I take time to build my circle. I don’t have a big circle, because I can’t accept without questioning. Or, at all, sometimes. I don't currently feel the need to cultivate this aspect of my personality. Not just yet, anyway. If I have to work on something, there will be a whole pandora’s box of things I could work on to better myself. I don’t think I will be prioritizing unconditional-acceptance-for-a-whole-bunch-of-people on that list. But I do, hugely, admire Siddharth for having this quality in him. In fact every time he displays this quality, I stare at him with my mouth wide open and a reaction of “Are you sure you are a human? From Earth?” - in the most positive way possible. I respect this quality in him so so much. It is one of the qualities that make him one of the best human beings I have ever come across.

I would be lying if I say that Samaira and Rehan are the sweet angels who are a result of a new born unicorn fart. Because they are not. They can be extremely mischievous and wicked. These days I am a constant complaint-machine about Rehan sleeping at mid-night every night (please don’t judge us). He spends 3 hours going-to-sleep. But boy do these kids melt my heart or what !? I thank my stars that aligned so perfectly to give us these two kids. Specifically these ones. Not slightly different. This exact set. They bring so much joy in our lives. As much as I love to complain about them, I can’t imagine my life without them. Sammy gives hugs that are to die for. No, really. She could kill with her hugs. Rehan has the sweetest voice possible. So just when he has done something wrong, something that might result in me being mad times 10 and him basically being screwed, he will say “Mumma, IIIuvuuuu.” And my heart turns into an ice cream that has been out for too long - cold but totally melted.

I like to see Sammy and Rehan interact. It is one of my favorite things about siblings. Interaction. They want the exact same thing, at the exact same time, for the exact same duration. Even though they don’t really want that thing. In other words, they fight a lot. In fact, every night I am thankful that they have survived each other. In one piece. But somehow Siddharth and I find so much happiness in just observing the kids doing what they do. Without interference. Unless one of them is going to seriously injure the other person, or themselves. We have a pretty high tolerance for such things. I would say that Siddharth and I are quite relaxed (totally a relative term, I get that) as parents. Not as a positive or a negative thing. More as a fact though. Unlike most parents, it doesn’t occur to us to discipline our kids when they are jumping on the couch. In some cases, we might actually join them in this monkey exercise. We do have boundaries. But the point is that our boundaries are somewhat stretched. And they are a moving target. So when our kids interact, and sometimes when it manifests as a chaotic its-mine-its-mine song, Siddharth and I look at each other and smile. Again, don’t judge. Of course there are times when Sammy will baby Rehan in the most adorable way humanly possible. There are times when Rehan is more concerned about Sammy than either of us. He wants Sammy’s attention, he wants to play with her. And it becomes cheesy-cheese overload in our household. I live for that. I would die for that.

Samaira’s latest thing is being a teacher. She acts like this worldly person who knows everything and it is her duty to teach, especially Rehan. So you can always spot her holding a book and asking Rehan “Rehan - can you point at the umbrella buddy?” And when he does, she makes sure to follow it up with “Good job, buddy. I am proud of you.”  Sure Miss Sammy. Anything for you. Rehan’s favorite thing these days is finding out who is happy and who is sad. And why. So he is on a repeat of “Mumma, are you happy?” “Is Elsa happy?” “Where is Anna?” “Is Anna happy?” You get the idea. 

These days it is a thing to diss the princess phenomena. I have been trying to figure out my point of view on it. So I wondered, why are super heroes ok and princesses not? I personally like Ironman just as much as I like Snow White. Well, maybe I like Ironman a tad bit more. I think it might be because of the opposites-attract phenomena. But that is besides the point. I personally am not against the princess phenomena, just like I am not against the superhero phenomena. I don’t take any specific pride in saying that Samaira likes Hulk. Just like I don’t feel the need to hide the fact that Rehan likes Elsa. The problem is not with princesses. Or with superheroes. The problem is that pink is for girls only and blue is for boys only. The problem is that princesses are for girls and superheroes are for boys. Which has now led to another problem. That princesses are not for girls. I really think both are for both. I personally don't want to decide or influence who my kids’ favorite should be. Equal opportunity. Equal privilege. In my mind it works both ways. I do understand parents trying to ensure their kids’ identity as being separate from any princess or superhero. It is one thing to like someone and another thing to want to be someone. Like really be that person. The only person I ever want Rehan to be is Rehan. The only person I ever want Sammy to be is Sammy. But if they want to pretend play with Hulk or Elsa - they can do whatever they want and I will be just as happy. Heck, they can make their own story in which Elsa is best friends with Hulk. Like say, Elsa froze Hulk when she first saw him because she was mad at him. Which made Hulk even more mad and he turned into this giant green man. Which scared Elsa. Until they learned more about each other and found out that they are more alike than different. And they became best friends forever. Not bad, huh. At this point, I will accept royalty cheques. 

Oh man, how I missed writing!

Distracted kids in front of the camera. So typical!

My Positivity

Scribbling on my laptop again. About time.